#we were taught about that in sixth and seventh grade

[oatmealdaydreams]

Papa Logan (DarkSides Family AU)

I mentioned Logan being a dad to young Emile and Patton, so here's the extension of that! Love me some nerd dad content <3

Trigger/Content Warnings: mention of homelessness & poverty, mention of bullying (descriptive)

Logan adopted the kids

He'd been substitute teaching at the time and was subbing for a middle school class for a while cause the original teacher was on maternity leave

so that's he met Emile and Patton, because he taught their class

Patton and Emile always seemed to have the same clothes everyday so Logan wondered if they were alright

like he worried about them

and he grew very fond of them, since they did their best to pay attention and they loved learning about the subject (it was a science class, so yeah)

Patton had once mentioned liking animal-related sciences and Emile seemed to like psychology and sciences about human behaviour

they were Logan's fav students

it turned out Emile was mute and had some hearing issues, so Em always did ASL to communicate (and usually only talked to Patton cause he seemed like the only one who knew ASL as well)

Logan picked up on the signs of them being homeless pretty quickly (same clothes everyday, seemingly always dirty, eating a lot during lunch time cause they didn't really get food outside of school)

he also picked up on them being siblings (they were literally always together, unless they had different classes or something)

Patton is a year older than Emile, so he's the big brother, & they're in different grades BUT Patton will go with Em to zir classes cause the school doesn't have an interpreter for some reason?? idk it's a sucky middle school

yeah, and that sometimes results in Patton skipping his own classes for his sibling's sake, which also worried Logan a little bit when he learns of it

Side Note: Emile uses ze/zir/zem (neopronouns, yus) but doesn't figure that out until a little closer to high school, but I'll still refer to zem as such

anyway: once Logan realizes Emile is basically deaf/hard of hearing, he starts to always put subtitles on videos for class to help zem (and ze appreicates it and f*cking loves Logan's class and now he's zir fav teacher)

okay so, one day while driving home, he sees Patton and Emile walking on the sidewalk, all dirty n sh*t (this only confirms his suspicions of them being homeless and it kinda hurts his heart cause they're good kids)

he silently debates on asking the kids to visit him right then and there cause that's kinda weird for adults to do that to kids, like don't be weird-

so he's like that would be kinda weird and creepy for me to do, so maybe I can talk to them at school tomorrow, cause he still wants to help them out, he's already managed to grow attached to them anyway

and yeah, he asks them to stay after class, since it's their last class anyway (it's literally at the end of the school day when he sees them, so yeah)

and he asks them about 'how they're doing at home' and they give each other this look like uh oh, I think he knows and then they get kinda anxious about it (cause some kids have been mean about it before, those little jerks)

Logan sees their nervousness and is like "Just curious to see if you'd need extra help or tutoring, cause then I'd have to call your guardians to discuss it." and then the kids are basically like oh he definitely knows, we are so screwed cause for some reason they think being homeless = being bad (idk why, some dumbf*ck from their past was a meanie, ya know prob a bully or something)

Side Note: the kids have been homeless since they were like, idk in fifth/fourth grade? so let's say they get adopted by Logan when they're in sixth/seventh grade; so like 2 to 3 yrs maybe?? (oof, poor kiddos)

yeah, and the convo goes to Logan offering to tutor them like, at a local diner/coffee-n-bakery place for a few weeks (he notices their grades aren't the best anyway, since they don't really have a place to get homework done)

he avoids saying anything about their homelessness cause he doesn't want to cause them any more anxiety over it

and then the siblings kinda agree, it's a public place and make they'd get to have food outside of school for once (Logan offers to pay for some snacks or whatever every time they're tutored so they're energized for schoolwork)

So: they do the tutoring and it helps the kids get better grades and their other teachers notice their grades getting better, and are kinda relieved cause they're good kids/good students

at some point, something happens: a lil meanie-head decides to pick on Emile for whatever reason and makes of fun of zir deafness & although ze can't hear them, it's kinda obvious because of the gestures to zir ears and how it gets kinda physical, and a buddy of the dumb-dumb bully like grips Patton and holds him back from being able to help his little sibling and Patton is crying and screaming and trying to break free to help but can't, and it's Patton's worst fear that he can't help Em and now that's happening and he can't do anything, Em is crying and shaking, Patton is also shaking and sobbing for his sibling

Logan happens to be on break at that time and hears the commotion (thank god) and then sees the whole thing happening and this paternal instinct kicks in and he does what he can to diffuse the situation and they go all to the principle's office/nurse's office (Logan makes sure to keep the bullies and the siblings separated for safety reasons)

as soon as Logan drops the meanies off at the principal's office and makes a brief/straight to the point explanation of why, he and the siblings head immediately to the nurse's office so they can get patched-up and taken care of

Logan refuses to leave the kids' side because he's very worried and scared for them

Side Note: at some point of knowing Emile and Patton, Logan learns ASL to help communicate with Em

As the nurse bandages and assesses the kids, Logan tells her what had happened (at least, what he saw) and mentions how the bullies are currently facing the principal's wrath (get rekt)

the nurse is like "again?" and Logan nearly does a double take and is "what do you mean, 'again'??"

and thus the nurse mentions how she usually sees this pair in her office a lot but they never told her why and now she knows and feels bad (she's tried to like, call their parents or something; but that's how she figured out they had none since no adults were even listed on their info)

oop, and now Logan is even more worried and his heart hurts cause NO KID SHOULD HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS BS (it's not your fault the others are so mean, why do you look so sad and guilty?)

and yep, protective mode has been activated in the nerdy space boi

so yeah, after the kids are set to go back to class (though they really should rest but they insist on heading to class to avoid being a 'problem' [they're not a problem, pls give them a BREAK, jesus]), Logan tells them that they can always come to him if needed for anything and that he wants them to know his classroom is always open and is a safe space when things are hard/bad/scary

which makes the kids tear up a little cause they haven't really had a safe space in a while

btw, what happened to their parents?? not even the author knows, and I don't think I wanna know, it's prob very sad and this is already making me cry (what have I done?)

and yep, Logan keeps a very watchful eye on them now

fast forward to a week later, Logan ends up adopting them [I got lazy here, sorry folks]

yus, movie nights with subtitles on

talking and signing in conversations to help Emile

teaching Emile how to read lips to help zem understand new things and new people

turns out Em and Pat are very energetic and mostly both have a form of ADHD and/or autism (maybe Em has the tism and Pat is the one with ADHD? like cause you can still be a little hyper with the tism, it varies for everyone)

yus and Logan nuturing Emile's psychology obsession

listening and hearing out the kids' latest hyperfixations and getting them stuffies/stuff animals/plushies from their fav shows n sh*t

both kids love Disney and cartoons (Avatar: The Last Airbender is one of their favorites, and of course Steven Universe as well)

Sometimes Logan wishes he had someone to help him around the house or help take care of the kids, but not like a partner per se, just like a friend who can co-parent with him

But his friends are all already parents, and he'd doubt any of them have the time

Plus he loves the kids and he doesn't know if having a stranger would be a good idea anyway

Little Patton baking with Papa Logan? Yus

Idk, space boi would be a neat dad

Omg, the first time the kids refer to him as 'dad' or 'papa'? Yeah, he shows much emotion and just is so weak for his kids

Emotional Logan, anyone?

Also, Logan has the tism (I will die on this hill)

Thus he understands, to some degree, different things about his kids when it comes to them being neurodivergent

All neurodivergents in this household

Logan letting a pun or dad joke slip cause his son love them and little Pat teasing him about it

Logan helping Em with zir homework cause it's confusing or the teacher couldn't explain it well

Logan going to PTA meetings sometimes to advocate for kids like Emile and Patton that need extra support at school (he would)

Logan correcting his kids' grammar but learning to do it in a kinder/soft way so the kids knew it wasn't a bad thing, just that certain words went like this and others go like that, and yes I know it can be confusing but it'll be okay I'll help you figure it out

Okay, I seriously love Logan as a dad, though. I kind of gave up after a little bit, so I'm sorry about that. Hopefully this isn't too bad.

Let me know if y'all want a taglist for this au, or if you want to be tagged at all.

[Masterlist]

[timemachineyeah]

Hiya I just stumbled across your Mr Robinson post. First of all condolences, I saw that he died a few years ago. Second, I'm very much curious, what subject is he supposed to teach? I couldn't really figure it out from the stories..

So I was in the gifted program at our school

(istg if y’all start gifted kid discourse in notes I will block you! yes everyone should have access to higher quality education, no don’t invalidate other people’s trauma, and this post about my BELOVED DEAD FORMER MENTOR FIGURE WHO DIED WELL BEFORE HIS TIME IN AN ACCIDENT is not the place to talk about it! My notes are not for that discussion thank you!)

and the way the program worked, we had two teachers who taught all subjects - often in interlocking or combined ways. Like a science project that uses the math we’re learning or a history project that ties into scientific advancements of the time, etc.

Like we still had “hours” and “subjects” technically, but only sometimes did the bell ringing indicate we were changing tasks. Depending on where we were in the curriculum it might just mean we all take a five minute break and get back to it.

Our two teachers were Mrs C and Mr R. Sixth graders had Mrs C for the morning and Mr R for the afternoon. Seventh graders had the reverse. Some of the subjects they were technically responsible for switched places when we changed grades - I think C was science in sixth grade and R was in seventh - but they often worked together on kind of interlocking curriculums. So on rare occasions both grades would be together and more commonly we’d sort of make… blind tag team projects? Like our project and their project technically combined into a bigger project.

Or we’d go on lots of hikes and stuff as a group or have big group classes outside. We did lots of catching live bugs and drawing plants with Mrs C. There was a creek right near the school so we didn’t have to go far to see the local wildlife.

I think Mrs C and Mr R pioneered the program together. Our class was the last to finish it as it was run. No Child Left Behind passed in March that year. The program ended with us that June.

Mrs C and Mr R were both fighting to get the program expanded and adopted for all the classes. Like we were supposed to be the proof of concept. They cried when we graduated seventh grade. The sixth graders were all in the room knowing the fun they’d had that year would be cut in half from what it had been planned as.

Our grades were good and our education was top notch and we tested well and I don’t even think it was that much more expensive than what funding a classroom already costs - if at all.

No Child Left Behind has its clear part of the blame - the timing of when the program was canceled and when that was being pushed are obviously linked - I also think it was honestly too liberal for our community. Like, sure, we were happier, learned better, liked school more, passed our tests, etc. But we also had hard discussions about race. We also protested the administration. Good Christian children often from wealthy families were questioning authority too much. Imagine if it got to the rest?

This is just speculation on my part. But it’s not without its evidence.

My wording on the original post was unclear, so let me be clear here: Mr Robinson wasn’t lying when he said we weren’t supposed to learn world religion.

It really was a forbidden subject. We actually did have to hide it from faculty.

Now, this did also make it more fun and compelling for us. And we did treat it like a spy game. But we also knew it wasn’t a game. They could actually get in trouble. And I don’t know. Maybe they did. Or maybe whether someone complained or not, the higher ups just noticed. This program was producing smart kids, high achieving kids, sure, but it was also producing problem kids that questioned the status quo.

And there are people that that kind of education wouldn’t serve.

Anyway to answer your question he taught math, social studies, and sometimes science, but really he taught everything in tag team with Mrs C. Except gym and band.

[shut-up-rabert]

You won't mention about how the modi government removed a whole chapter about the Gujrat riots and the emergency chapter.You won't mention how they are trying to hide the fact that nathuram godse.

I don't have any problem with who is Muslim,Hindu or Christian. I hate people who have extremist religious beliefs.The modi government is trying to remove everything about Mughal kingdom.ok I know the fact they are glorified alot in our textbooks and we aren't taught about indian kingdom.I believe they should teach us both Abt Mughal and indian kingdom but I don't think so that is possible under the modi government bcuz they have extremist religious beliefs.Forgetting about the mughals won't do anygood bcus even they played important role of what India is today.

Hey, are you some sort of miracle child who skipped the entirety of seventh grade or something? Because this is what those books look like:

The first two chapters cluster all the indigenous empires together and basically breeze through them, the third one is more expanded, and the rest are just various parts of this mega chapter called “Mughal empire”. Nothing in those chapters is discussed indpendently of the Mughals. EVERYTHING these chapters talk about is basically how the *topic touched in the chapter* was under the mughal kings and their policies with a little preface that talked about how things were before.

Take the chapter about devotion for example. You would think that the bhakti movement saints like Goswami Tulsidas, Mirabai, Swami Surdas, Raskhan, Kabir would get their due because of the changes they brought in devotional traditions that we still follow to this day, but NOPE. Nope nope nope. All about how the great secular mughals combined Sufism with Vaishnavism or whatever. All about how muslim traditions intermingled with pre existing Hindu ones but little about how they were shaped.

(And this can be said for the parallel sixth grade chapter aswell. We get the stories of Mahatma Budhha and Lord Mahavira in detail but any reference to the previous 23 tirthankars, including Lord Rishabhnath are missing. And simply forget about any reference of Hinduism other than a few passing references.)

And bhakti chapter is actually the most mellow one of them since it has some indic elements. Every other chapter is basically chanting the Mughal name. And ridiculously enough, despite having six chapters to themselves after a measly 300 year rule, No references to how awful they were to the Hindus and the crimes against us, where millions of us perished, are referred to.

You would think that a dynasty that was being sucked off by the previous education ministers would have all its glory, including the tower of our skulls made by the patriarch, would receive its deserved place in the history but nope :P

No changes whatsoever are being brought to these chapters despite their unnecessary length in glorifying the most trivial things, and their erasure of the Hindu massacres where atleast a hundred million of us were put to death for our infidel indentity.

Only the chapters in higher secondary, where they go in even deeper lengths to glorify even more trivial things are being removed in favour of a chapters that will actually teach about the 5000+ years history of bharatvarsha that existed before the mughals and the invading arab,turkish empires, our indegenious history, our true culture and beliefs that has been rushed in favour of these 500 years.

Oh, and not to mention that the formation of Sikhism, the pinnacle of Rajput empires and the Rise of Marathas happened in the same time. How much did you learn about it?

Yes, Mughals are sadly, a part of our history. But so is the history that us the people of aryavart forged ourselves, when we were self ruling, and that history is ten times as big as “our” mughal history that sits cross legged on the biggest share of recognition in our history textbooks. 10% of our history being cut is unfair, but the fact that 90% of it is already cut to give 10% an even bigger chance to ✨Ѕℋℐℕℰ✨ is fair?

Exactly how much did Mughals do that two out of like 10-12 chapters about their minor rule (where one crucial side of them is being deliberately concealed), that too the ones that were repetative, being cut is a great loss to our knowledge?

You say that Modi government is religious extremist. How so? By doing exactly what everyone wanted? Cutting two unnecessary (and repeptative aswell) chapters in favour of those which will teach us about the larger part of history that is overshadowed by this tiny chunk of half-true history? How is that extremist?

If anything, BJP is actually favouring the leftist narrative by letting the propaganda-esque chapters in seventh grade be as they are, not even trying to bring the monstrosity of the Mughals to light despite the expectations people had. People should be thankful to him, he’s saving face of their beloved Aurangzeb and Shah Jahan and they have the gal to call him a rightwing extremist.

Oh, and while we are at it, might aswell suggest you to go ahead and search what “extreme” right looks like. The current BJP government is not a good example of that, although its lower party members (MLAs, MPs) and sister organisations like VHP and Bajrang Dal are. Compare those to the BJP, and you will see that the centre is anywhere but extreme. Maybe Centre leaning to Moderate about now, but definitely not extremist.

You’d expect such “politically aware” folks who rage out in your dms to know that, but honestly, if you cannot tell this basic difference despite having actual extremists in your country, exactly how much politically knowledgeable are you?

Not enough, because if you were you would see how biased those paragraphs were:

A one sided account of the riots where, even if they were not pointing fingers at Gujrat Government for something they had been acquitted of directly, they did have NHRC report which solely faulted the Government without any true basis. The paras targeted Modi precisely, and accused him of the issue in a manner that seemed to have an ulterior motive.

Who in their right mind would let people read a defamatory para about themselves when they have the power to stop it?

Same with the passage dealing with RSS; other organisations that were banned alongside, including some other religions’ organisations, don’t have a mention anywhere. Only the “Hindu extremists” are mentioned as if their were no other extremists at all (plot twist: there were).

And exactly how does BJP gain from removing emergency? That’s one of the greatest follies of their opponent, if anything they should be propagating it. Tbt, THIS one genuinely seems like an attempt to rationalise because this is a political loss BJP has done to self without any reason.

But you know what? I feel like there were better ways than simply cutting the deleted portions (except Mughals) aswell. Editing those could have helped aswell. So yes, I will go and say that those bits should not have been removed (Or should have been if they truly were repetative? I don’t know, I did not take humanities in +1) but edited.

Hiding history is an injustice to the past, whatever your reasons. So if this is not repetative or otherwise unserving to the syllabus as a whole, or just not fit to be taught with other portions, It should not have been removed, but altered. Yet, I see that currently the editing and rewriting of books is ongoing, so maybe there will be proper replacements in the future? If not, raising questions against that until a proper answer is given will be our own duty

Either ways, that is all from me. If there is anything more you wanna say, my DM is open for it all. Peace.✌🏼

[pargolettasworld]

Yes. All of this. These aren't the exact things that my teachers would do, but these things are absolutely the sort of things they would do. To this list, I might add . . .

My second grade teacher, who decided that the last day of school would be a class birthday party for everyone who had summer birthdays and never got to bring cupcakes to class. She was absent for the last day of class, and no one told the substitute that we were having this party, and the substitute was horrified to look over a class of twenty-five second-graders who were expecting a party and she had nothing prepared. Fortunately, my mom showed up with cupcakes, saving the day.

Inspired by a news article in The Weekly Reader, my third grade teacher took time out of our school day to campaign very earnestly for the Democrats. Granted, it was 1984, and the Presidential election was coming up, and Walter Mondale had picked Geraldine Ferraro as his running mate. No one -- repeat, no one -- was excited about Walter Mondale, but a lot of women were very excited about Geraldine Ferraro, as was my third grade teacher. She made sure to impress upon all of us eight-year-olds how important this was that our parents vote for Geraldine Ferraro (and, I guess, the guy who was running for President with her). Honestly, I hope this teacher really enjoyed voting for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

I never did go to fifth grade, but I am assured that one of the fifth grade teachers would absolutely hit kids over the head with a banana if they misbehaved.

My sixth grade teacher (who loathed children and hated me in particular for being too smart and too Jewish) made us all write private diaries in class while she roamed around and read what we were writing over our shoulder. I retaliated by writing mine in German (which she had not said we couldn't do), so she moved my desk right up in front of hers so she could Keep An Eye On Me. When we read The Endless Steppe that year, she made a crack about how I ought to identify with dirty little Jewish girls shipped off to Siberia. I told my parents, and in response, my dad taught me every glorious 60s hippie insult to The Squares that he knew, and said they all applied to this teacher.

My seventh grade science teacher splashed out for a single can of caviar every year so he could feed it to us while we studied the life cycle of fish. He did this because he loved watching the faces that we made when we tasted the caviar. (It was awful -- very salty with a bitter aftertaste, totally not what you want to eat when you're thirteen.)

My high school choir director occasionally made me teach the class. No one minded, because I was a better musician than he was. I asked him to pay me for the labor, and he gave me a penny.

This was just the everyday stuff. My ninth grade Spanish teacher, who was an actual mafioso and had a serious feud going with one of the other Spanish teachers, is worth a whole post just to himself. All I will say of his class is that, during that year, I learned one phrase in Spanish -- de vez en cuando, from time to time -- and one phrase in Latin -- nolo contendere, I do not contest the charges.

[bblynmae]

Playing the guitar reconnects me with my creativity, which helps me express what I feel, vent my emotions, and tell stories through the sound of the strings that I cannot express verbally. 

My hobby of playing guitar began when I was in sixth-grade. My adviser back then came to class with a guitar. Since I believed it would be extremely tough for me to play the guitar, I first had absolutely zero interest in learning how to play it. My adviser patiently and eagerly taught me how to play it, but I still cannot play the guitar, despite having completed primary school. 

In highschool, my best friend used to brought her guitar to class while we were in the seventh and eighth grades. She let me play it in our vacant time and she taught me everything she knew about guitars.

And now, I'm still a beginner, still tuning the precise string noise that can harmonize the psithurism of nature, and still finding the sixth string of my guitar. 

[se7enshadesofrafe]

Tank ewe! Tank ewe!

I'd like to thank my English teachers of days past. 

To the ones who pushed knowledge into me and pulled out confidence...👏

Thank you! 

To the ones who taught me to love literature, to prize poetry, and to lavish myself in the luster of language...👏 

Thank you! 

I'll begin with sixth grade because, in Alabama, middle school is where the subjects became independent. Each subject had its unique teacher with his or her flare for their passion. 

Thank you... 

Mrs. Jones, 6th grade 😍👏💐  |  Mrs. Carden, 7th grade 😍👏💐

Mrs. Fletcher, 8th grade 😍👏💐 |  Mrs. Johnson, 9th grade 😍👏💐

Mrs. Dabbs, 10th grade 😍👏💐  |  Mrs. Henderson, 11th grade 😍👏💐

Mrs. Bidwell, 11th grade 😍👏💐  |  Mrs. Williams, 12th grade 😍👏💐

Honorable mention: Mrs. Roberts, Literary Magazine, High School 

Sixth grade was my induction into grammar and composition. Mrs. Jones was fun and strict. She enjoyed the precision of sentence structure. But as hard as she was, she always held a special place in my heart. Almost ten years after I sat in her class, I returned to Huntsville to help my mom homeschool my brother. I called on Mrs. Jones for English help. Like a king knighting a soldier, she passed me not only a student edition of the grammar and composition book I had used, but she also gave me a teacher's edition. She hugged me and sent me off with words of encouragement and good will. Thank you, Mrs. Jones!

The seventh grade me was turning into a little sh^t, yet Mrs. Carden found a way to pull out the creative genius in my writing. She was hard, rough, and seemingly unforgiving. Somehow, though, I produced some of my greatest short stories. I wish I had copies of them now. All I remember was writing a story of a boy escaping his kidnappers and running down the highway and ducking into the woods. [shrugs] Oh, Mrs. Carden! If only I knew what you saw in me.

Mrs. Fletcher held down eighth grade English with an iron fist and a tongue hardened in the streets and sharpened in the annals of university. I can't tell you a doggone thing I did in that class. I can't even remember what we read in there.  I had checked out by eighth grade.  Sorry, Mrs. Fletcher.  Sorry for fighting in your class, too. Well, less of fighting and more of keeping the person from kicking my butt. You still get love from me! 

Somehow, I was able to slide into Advanced Placement English (AP Eng) my freshman year of high school (ninth grade). Mrs. Johnson took no prisoners.  She tried to teach me the value of journaling...it didn't take then.  She introduced me to Atticus Finch and Odysseus. They're still my boys. My paper on Odysseus garnered me an invitation into the Literary Magazine with the honorable mention, Mrs. Roberts. There were plenty of days Mrs. Johnson would have loved to strangle me, but it never stopped her from coaxing the English Major/Communications Minor out of me.

Vocabulary would best summarize tenth grade and my AP Eng class that year.  Vocabulary and Paris and Mrs. Dabbs. I'm not sure what was in Mrs. Dabbs and her approach that kept me focused. Maybe it was being fifteen and turning sixteen, a new surge of maturity accompanying my learner's permit and my driver's license. Maybe I just liked her style. Whatever it was, she managed to encourage me to write a letter to the editor of the local paper. And she was elated when she saw it in the paper the following week. I bumped into Mrs. Dabbs in 2005, almost ten years after graduating. We exchanged addresses and became pen-pals for about a year. I fell off. Tsk, tsk! She encouraged me to follow my dreams of writing, believing in the love I had for it. May I do you proud, Mrs. Dabbs.

If having one hard-nosed teacher for AP Eng my eleventh-grade year was bad, imagine having two. Yes...TWO. Mrs. Henderson was my teacher the 1st semester, submerging my class into classics, introducing me to Geoffrey Chaucer's arse and Hamlet's monologue. She was another one who calmed the savage beast rising inside of me. The beast which gained control my last year of middle school. High school advanced placement teachers seemed to have a music about them. I also found my love for presentation progressing under Mrs. Henderson. She, unfortunately, relocated due to her husband's job and left us in the care of Mrs. Bidwell. Oh, how I missed you, Mrs. Henderson!

Mrs. Bidwell got the raw end of the deal. Coming in mid-stream in any situation spells trouble.  And, although now, I know it isn't her fault, and I understand her method and her belief system (now), I hated her guts then. Hated her! What do you do with a bunch of juniors accustomed to engaging in literature and literary work? You make them go back to the basics, of course.  Especially if you're tired of grading papers full of grammatical errors. I despised her. I felt she was belittling us. We're eleventh grade AP Eng, by George! Where's our respect? How dare you make us review grammar daily like the common English classes! I'm so, so, so sorry, Mrs. Bidwell. Thank you for what you were trying to do. I would beg you for those worksheets and grammar pointers now.

My final bouquet goes to Mrs. Williams. She lifted my twelfth-grade experience to new heights. She was real and raw. She taught me how to write essays and poetry. She encouraged me and took the time to try and figure out why she was losing me. She couldn’t understand and she didn’t pick it up in my poetry. I didn’t know I was crying out then, either. I’ve reread some of those poems I wrote in Senior Year, and I hug myself. That guy was struggling to be seen while hiding. I couldn’t tell her she - and my grades - were casualties in the war against my dad and society. She pulled me aside once, opening her grade book as I rounded her desk. “What the f**k is this,” she asked, pointing at a number of empty slots where numbers should have been. I wanted to spill the beans. Cry out. Divulge all my secrets. I was a trained assassin by then, though. I knew better. I couldn’t take the chance that she may side with the enemy. She was still kind to me. Always had a smile for me and a side-eye. She knew what she had in her student, she just couldn’t figure out how to unlock it and unleash it. You’re the greatest, Mrs. Williams. Thank you!

[spinningintheshadows]

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#they tried to teach us in sixth grade but i couldn’t get it but i taught myself over the summer between sixth and seventh writing fanfic

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#5

wanna do it anyway? || rafe cameron

After breaking up with her boyfriend, the photographer that Piper had arranged and paid for a boudoir shoot asks if she wants to do it anyway.

fanon photographer!rafe x plus size!oc, *SMUT; oral (f&m recieving), fingering, semi protected sex (oc is on bc)*

Rafe bit his lip as he looked at his schedule for the day. He was up early, seven o’clock, drinking his coffee as he glanced at the schedule book. He had two appointments booked today, the McJones family photos at 10:00, and then scribbled messily underneath it at 1:00 was Piper Harris - Boudoir. That was the one he was most concerned about. Not that he’d never done boudoir shoots before, but because it was Piper, his high school crush.

Piper Harris also didn’t fit the norm of his normal boudoir shoots, where the girls had been stick thin, almost to where you could see their bones sticking out of their bodies. Piper Harris had always been on the heavier side, and if bothered her, he’d only ever seen it once. It was the day they became friends, when he practically beat the shit out of Kelce for calling her fat in math class. Yeah, he’d gotten suspended and grounded for two weeks but it was worth it.

Truth be told, Rafe didn’t know why he was nervous, but the uneasy feeling hadn’t left his stomach since she approached him outside of the Wreck two weeks ago.

“Rafe Cameron! The man I’ve been looking for.” A voice said, making him turn around and meet eyes with her, Piper.

“Hey, Pip, didn’t know you were still around the outer banks.” He said with a smile.

“Could say the same about you, Rafe. Hey I have a question” she suddenly sounded nervous. He raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled the camera out of its bag in preparation of his next shoot. “Have you ever done a boudoir shoot?” He let out a breathy laugh, looking at her again.

“Yeah.” He told her. “Several, why?”

“Well, uh, me and Travis will be together four years next month and I was kind of thinking about doing one for him.” She said. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the name of her mediocre boyfriend. “And I was wondering if you’d be willing to do it? I’ll pay you of course, whatever you charge.”

“You want me to….do a boudoir shoot…of you?” He asked. “Okay. Uh, your number still the same? If so I’ll look over my schedule when I get home and text you with a time and price.”

“Okay. Thank you so much, Rafe!” She said.

“Hey wait, before you go.” He told her. “Stand there, the sunset looks really nice behind you.” He snapped a couple photos, thanking her.

When he’d gotten back to his apartment that night he’d edited the photos and sent them to her, telling her to do with them what she wanted. Plus a time, date and price for their shoot. His phone buzzing brought him out of his thoughts. Glancing down at the text, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion

Is it too late to cancel?

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224 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

#4

Drew Starkey Smutty Headcannons because I Can

(Thanks for the gif @maybankforlife but you’re grounded and not allowed to read these. But here you go @wannabestarkeysgirl @jjmaybankspermbank @teelagurl558)

Just like his Alaskan friend, I know this man is packing. He’s tall as fuck so I just know this man is big big

Once again, Jesus boys are kinky as fuck and we all know Drew come from a Jesus family so I know he kinky as fuck.

This man has a daddy kink. He loves hearing his little princess fucked stupid on his clock and begging Daddy to let her cum

Also, breeding kink to the fucking max. He loved hearing you beg him to fill you up with his cum. Bonus points if you call him Daddy when you do it.

He will never admit it, but this motherfucker loved bondage. He loves being tied up and tying you up.

A huge ass switch. When he’s in the mood he can be the mean dom but he lowkey loves being subby for you. He takes it all like a good boy, even when you have him tied up and blindfolded on the bed, overstimulated and covered in his own cum.

Lowkey gives off exhibitionist vibes but he’s highkey too big of a chicken shit yo try it out.

Homie has a praise kink. Like, yes bestie, tell him how great he is at eating your pussy. Tell him how great his cock is making you feel. Homie gets off on that shit

Speaking of eating pussy, you asked him one time what that mouth do and he showed you exactly what it could do (make you cum in just a matter of a few minutes)

He’s all about adoration. He wants to make damn sure he's showing you exactly how much he loves you. He’s not fucking to fuck, he’s fucking to adore you.

He loves when you want to just sit on his cock. It’s super intimate to him, he could sit on the couch watching movies or lay in bed cuddling with you on his cock for hours and be perfectly content

Motherfucking aftercare king. You could be laying in bed after he’s absolutely destroyed you, completely blissed the fuck out and this adorable fucker is getting up to run you a bubble bath and get you water so you’re comfortable, clean and ready to cuddle

246 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#3

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326 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#2

Anyway, Stan Rudy Pankow

495 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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1,252 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[polarfarina]

The first time I dreamt I was there, I was on the "top floor." I went up a few stairs that were grey, that kind of linoleum with the circle bubbles that always taps under your shoes, and then at the top of the stairs the floor itself was carpeted.

And I mean, like, actually even the walls had a carpeted feel. The color was a specific rusty red-orange color that was rich, and the floor and the walls were all the same color. The area was kind of small and square for a top floor, with doors lining the three walls, maybe two or three doors on each wall. Each door had a small six inch tall window inside, that had a small grill made of wavy bars between the panes. A place that felt like it was from the 60s or 70s tbh.

Notes were pinned to the walls, because the carpeting made it easy to hide the holes, and there were some purple benches (these I think my brain borrowed from the pews my theater class had in high school) occasionally along the walls as well. The lighting was mostly from lamps - there were fluorescent lights but they didn't do much.

There were display cases on both sides of the area, and what they were displaying seemed to change. Sometimes it was trophies, sometimes it was student projects. There were tall, possibly fake plants stuck in most corners. In the middle of the floor was a square balcony railing that overlooked the floor below. Though there was nothing actually hanging from the ceiling, a giant chandelier casting yellow light obscured the view of what was below. You could hear hustle and bustle down there, like how a school should be. It almost felt like looking down from the balcony of a mall, I could see through a corner that wasn't blocked and the floor down there was polished, white, and shiny.

But up here it was quiet. And that's because I was running late to class. (Doesn't that mean downstairs would be quiet too? In theory yes but this is a dream idk the logic)

I hurried on, second guessing which door I needed, and opened the right one, entering and sitting down. The room was long and narrow, but to the side; there were only two rows of tables as there was maybe six to ten feet of space between the door and the back wall, but it was probably twenty or more feet long.

The class was math, with my sixth grade math teacher who I really liked. He had taught me seventh grade math and pre-algebra. In this dream, I was late, and I didn't have any school supplies, but I also wasn't worried. This teacher said as long as I showed up, it was okay. But bring supplies next time.

And then we did class. He was still using an old fashioned projector that had a light underneath, the kind where you used clear plastic sheets and wet erase pens to write. I can't remember the actual content of the lessons but I went to several in a row in the same dream. If I remember correctly, class would end, and the students would leave, but I chose to stay behind. I didn't have anything else to be doing and I really liked the teacher so why not?

I was content, experiencing one of my favorite parts of middle school: my old math teacher (yes,really). He was a silly guy who loved to put YouTube videos on the screen, handed out candy for birthdays, and overall really knew how to be funny and genuine. He also cared a lot about kids actually understanding the material and wasn't afraid to sacrifice seriousness to get the point across. You don't really get that many teachers like that. I was content attending his class again, and the dream version of him seemed to miss me.

After visiting this wing one or two times in my dreams, I have not been back. But that's okay because I've visited other places in the school since then.

I used to have these dreams about a school, but they weren't nightmares, and it was a school that I've never been to, a building I've never been to, and it gets bigger over time

[so-you-melted-22]

Shoutout to my history teacher who straight up never taught us anything about historical events after 1945, even though he is literally supposed to.

I hope you die in a fire.

[blueroses789]

I wish I could be stronger

Warnings: 

Mental health issues

Smut 

Angst

Domestic violence

next chapter: Jealousy 

Chapter 1/?

When it happened: Chapter One  

You weren't sure when it happened. But at some point between the summer of seventh and eighth grade you realized that your feelings for the boy next door were far from platonic. So on the first day of grade eight you prepared your confession. You would have done it earlier, but Eren had gone away with his parents for the summer. He would call you almost every day to tell you about Bermuda (his parents were rich so they could afford shit like this). You had hoped that this meant he might like you. But all those dreams were crushed when on the first day of school he gave roses to Mikasa, and asked her out. Like everyone else you congratulated the elated couple. Inside, it was a different story. Inside it hurt like hell. Before class started, you went to the bathroom to cry. Every time you saw them walking in the hallway, hand in hand, it hurt. Yet you put on a smile anyway. What did she have that you didn’t? “Probably because you're boring.” A nasty voice said inside of you. Were you boring? Well, you did tend to fade into the background. You were the type of person who liked to help others. It was exhausting to be honest. Not that helping people bothered you. But you didn’t know your breaking point. You once helped Connie finish a project, while neglecting your own. In the end you got a C, Coonie got an A. Of course it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t forced you to do anything. It was also true that you sort of let people walk all over you. You remembered how in the sixth grade, this girl named Mina Carolina used to push you around. It wasn’t until Eren stepped in did she stop. Then there was Thomas who kept stealing your things in the early days of highschool. Mikasa taught him a lesson for that. Once again you had to rely on someone else to solve your own problems.

With first year University came crushing deadlines, tears and stress. Your cousins had not been exaggerating. You had come to Maria University full of excitement, only to be crushed in the first week. The workload was enormous and you barely had time to yourself. Now in November, you were a walking corpse. You made sure to be quiet since Historia was asleep. It was a good thing you had chosen someone who you knew well, since not all roommates were so trustworthy. Historia had originally meant to share with Ymir. But Ymir got accepted to Liberio University. Since then Ymir had made friends with two brothers named Marco and Porco and a girl called Pieck. Apparently they were starting a band. Ymir was quite good, singing being her strong point. She did punk rock, though most of her songs were dedicated to Historia (Ymir kept saying that she doesn't like sappy romance songs. But we all know she has an entire folder of those sappy love songs for Historia). Their relationship was something out of a novel. Bad boy (or in this case bad girl) and good girl meet, eventually falling in love. You hated to say it, but you were jealous. Not because you had a crush on Historia or Ymir, but because you wished someone loved you the same way. While most of your friends had been in or were in relationships, you had not even had your first kiss. Not that you felt entitled to anyone's affections, but were you really that unattractive? A knock sounded at your door and you opened it. Historia stood on the threshold with a bag of junk food. And behind her were Eren and Mikasa. Your stomach dropped painfully. You saw the happy couple holding hands. Oh..hey. You smiled, masking your pain. Thought we could have a movie night. Historia giggled. You just wanted to study tonight, undisturbed. But you didn’t have the heart to say no to Historia. Cool! You let everyone in. Mikasa whispered and Eren smiled before giving her a kiss on the check. You wanted to go to bed and cry your heart out. But that wasn’t really an option right now. Minutes later you found yourself sitting on the couch with Historia leaning on you. Eren and Mikasa sat on the rug in front of the tv. Eren had his head in Mikasa’s lap. He used to do that with you.

It was warm for a November afternoon. You sat on the hill overlooking the school playground. As usual you had a book propped open. From a young age you loved books, especially romance. It was always thrilling to read a book about the simple country girl whisked away by a handsome boy. Sometimes, you imagined yourself in a story, waiting to be rescued. Books had a deeper meaning to you than most realized. Aged six, your parents got a divorce. Not finding comfort in either of them, you turned to an outlet. The corner of your eye caught a tuft of brown hair. Y/n! Eren flopped down beside you. Hey. Shadis giving you a hard time? You asked, sympathetically. No kidding. Eren yawned. You patted your lap. As usual, he placed his head on it. Thanks. He sighed. You smiled down at him. Content. At the age of thirteen, you couldn’t comprehend that there might be a day you would not be in that place.

It was a bit hard to focus when the couple in front of you were acting so loving. Historia didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was because it wasn’t that obvious to anyone but you. Maybe it was because you were so fixated on them. Eventually you got up in the middle of the movie. “I’m gonna go to bed early.” You whispered to Historia. “Night.” She replied. You silently slinked out of the living room. Once in the safety of your room, you collapsed onto your bed. “Just hold it together.” You whispered to yourself. Laying on your bed, you reflected on how everything might have been different, had you just had the courage to ask Eren out earlier. Maybe not. Eren had never shown any infatuation for you. Perhaps it was for the best. At some point you noticed that outside was quiet. You could hear Historia talking to someone on the phone, probably Ymir or her sister Frieyda. A moan could be heard next door and you sharply turned your head. Realizing what it was, you turned red with shame, embarrassment and jealousy. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. But it still hurt like hell. Mikasa’s moans could be heard as clear as day. Finally, you let yourself cry.

[ramayantika]

When the God of dance is a man, why should I curtail myself from practicing this art?

When I was put into my first Bharatanatyam class as a five year old, I saw a bhaiya dance amidst us. Everyone called him Bhuvan anna. He must have been in the seventh or eighth grade then, and I hope he still dances.

In my thirteen years of learning dance, I was taught by three male dance teachers -- two for Odissi and one for Bharatanatyam. Sanjay Mahanti was my bharatanatyam dance teacher along with Siri Mahanti (both are siblings) who was my main dance teacher. Sanjay sir often took classes for my batch when we did items. I still remember how he noticed me when I was portraying a bashful girl. He smiled at me and asked me to do it again. I am not sure if he remembers me now because I moved out of Vizag at the age of seven. I had seen him dance sometimes when Gurumaa (their mother) would sing and the siblings would dance. I was six then but I was enthralled at his movements. My dance academy had a large Nataraja idol and Sanjay sir reminds me of that idol.

Later, I got enrolled myself in Odissi in the sixth or seventh grade I think under Lucky Mohanty. I had heard of Odissi but never had the opportunity to see it. Truthfully, I never had much of an interest earlier to practice that art form seriously. I took it because there were no good bnat classes in the city I had shifted in. I did Odissi to keep up with my Odia heritage.

My first Odissi stage show was in the seventh grade where I saw him dancing. He was portraying baby Krishna and Yashoda running after him trying to feed him or to stop him from causing mischief. Our group was after his solo performance and I watched by by the wings. A grown man acting like a baby appeared peculiar to me. By the end, I loved how he was portraying Yashoda's maternal love and Krishna's adorable mischief.

After two years, I moved to another city where dance enveloped around me and opened my eyes to traditional artforms. I took up Odissi again in a reputed institution of Kolkata where I learnt for three years under Sourav Samanta. He taught me a Krishna item and he showed all the students a pose where Krishna was standing and giving a side glance to Radha. That look stayed with me after all these years.

And now I continue Odissi with Lucky Mohanty after five years, I guess. I wonder that there are so many male classical dance artists, yet I hardly see boys learning classical dance. Boys who are interested to learn are told to take up western because classical dance is too feminine.

As I write this, I am reminded of two boys who were a part of a dance workshop I took part in the tenth grade. Sadly, I don't recall their names. One of them was an Odissi dancer, that I am sure about. The other guy was perhaps into Odissi or Kathak. In the workshop we were twenty girls I think with those boys. Let's name the Odissi guy A and the other guy B.

Guy A had round frame spectacles, curly hair and his torso movements were fine and fluid like a wave. I don't think my movements are as refined as him. Guy B's movements were quite sharp and crips. He also had sharp eyes. My introverted self never went up to compliment them on their dance and I still regret it.

Male dancers deserve much more respect and recognition. The celebrated artists are surely given a lot of respect in and outside dancing circles but what about the young boys learning dance? Majority of them in their childhood and adolescence are made to hear taunts and obscene insults.

In India, we look up to Ardhanarishwara, the merged forms of Shiva and Parvati. Who are we to conform ourselves and others into strict rules of masculinity and feminity?

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff X Reader Hogwarts AU Oneshot

Hey everyone! As WandaVision has me completely in love with Wanda Maximoff, I've managed to write a little Harry Potter-inspired oneshot. 

Ready on AO3 too

Gif is not mine.

It was an understatement to say that you were late. Running through the now-empty corridors of the castle, you hid behind a pillar when you thought you heard the voice of the Ravenclaw's snitch monitor nearby, but you let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that it was only ghosts chattering away during their wanderings.

You ran toward the transfiguration room, believing that if you were lucky, you would be able to sneak behind the cages to the last empty chair and pretend that you hadn't missed almost half of the first class. You believed that Tony Stark would have been the inconvenience knowing all that he usually is, and that Professor Minerva would not have noticed your absence.

When you finally reached the classroom, you wiped some sweat from your forehead as you leaned against the wall, trying to look out the window. You noticed that almost all the students were writing something in their notebooks, and you tried not to think too much about the importance of that content, ignoring the feeling that it was the kind of thing that would be on the final exams.

You raised your hand toward the doorknob slowly, thinking of the best way to open the door without making too much noise, but then someone turned the lock on the other side, and you almost fell back in surprise as you saw the door open.

- I'm glad you decided to join us, Miss Y/L/N. - said Professor Minerva sternly.

You felt your knees tremble with fear at the intensity of her gaze, and your cheeks heat up when you hear giggles coming from inside the room.

- I'm sorry, professor. I didn't hear the alarm clock. - You said, looking at the floor. Minerva let out an exclamation of disapproval and let you into the room.

- I will debilitate five points of your house, for this, miss. Don't let this happen again. - She said simply, and you entered.

When you sat in the back of the room, in one of the few empty chairs, you did your best to avoid all the curious and judgmental glances your classmates threw at you. Only when Professor Minerva walked back between the tables you looked around the room, your gaze locking on the one person who could completely take your attention away.

Wanda Maximoff was a student of the same year as yours, being part of the Slytherin house. You could say that you had a friendly relationship, because you knew the same people, and especially, you were very good friends with Pietro, her twin brother. You couldn't precisely define the nature of your relationship with Wanda however. In your first two years at Hogwarts you sat together on the train, and during the breaks, almost exclusively due to the company of Steve Rogers, who was a mutual friend and a year older, who used to act like the older brother of several people. When Steve graduated, Pietro became the only bond that justified your socializing with Wanda, but even though they were brothers they didn't hang out all the time, especially after Wanda started dating a Ravenclaw boy named Vis, who you didn't like, and Pietro started dating, well, several people.

The thing was that you never developed a friendship with Wanda, purely because she made you nervous enough that you couldn't engage in conversation with her without being around other people. You were a complete mess around her, notable only to your best friend, Natasha, who was happy to torment you for your longtime crush on the witch. During the third and fourth year, you considered confessing to Wanda how you felt, but like a bucket of cold water, Vis came along. He was a nice guy, and smart, and you were in the same chess club. But all the niceness completely disappeared when you watched Vis invite Wanda to the winter ball. The whole dynamic of your relationship with Wanda has changed since she started dating the young ravenclaw. You tried to suppress your feelings as much as possible, and you were constantly irritated and clumsy in the presence of Vis, who seemed to be always clinging to Wanda, so you started avoiding both of them. If Wanda interpreted that your sudden hostility was because you didn't like her, she didn't speak up, and just began to respect the distance you put between you two.

You were in this almost hostile territory for all of fifth grade and sixth grade, until you invited Jessica Jones to be your date to Professor Stark's Christmas party during seventh grade, which set off a series of interesting events in your life.

First the Starks threw the best Christmas parties, and although Tony Stark was annoying and overbearing, he was your long-time friend, and he was very happy to invite all his friends to his father's party, Professor Howard Stark, who taught Magic Mechanics. You weren't even in Professor Stark's class, but you were happy to hear that he organized a party for everyone who stayed at the castle during the vacation period, and many students skipped their way home just to attend, since Howard's parties were famous in school.

And then you invited your friend Jessica Jones, someone you had a lot of fun with, but wasn't really romantic at all. In fact, you dared her to take you to the party, because she wouldn't admit the open crush she had on her colleague Trish Walker, a very pretty blonde girl who seemed to be the only person who could get around Jessica's temper. You were happy to tease Jessica all night about her crush, until the brunette took too much fruity punch and finally built up the courage to talk to Trish, leaving you laughing at your desk as you watched her trip over her own feet as she led the blonde out of the room.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you imagined it was Natasha, finally finding you in the midst of so many people, but the vision that hit you took your breath away.

You knew that Wanda Maximoff was beautiful. It was a fact that you grumbled against your pillow in irritation when you saw her kissing Vis on the cheek during breaks between classes. And then you saw her, her hair arranged in a high bun, her face powdered with makeup that made her even more beautiful, and her long eyelashes flashing at you through emerald orbs. Damn those eyes. There was a lot to take in in the figure in front of you. Her stupidly beautiful face, her lips slightly stained with lipstick because she had a habit of biting them when nervous, or her partially exposed collarbone from the cut of her blouse. You thought you had forgotten how to breathe.

- Hey. - Wanda greeted you with a lopsided smile. You blinked a few times.

- H-hi Wanda! - you replied after being silent for a moment. You looked away quickly. - Nice party, right?

- I think. - She replied and you noticed the two empty glasses in her hand. You abruptly adjusted your posture, your cheeks flushing slightly, to step back and excuse Wanda so she could fill the glasses with fruit punch. Of course, she was only talking to you because you were in front of the drinks table, preventing her from getting something for herself and Vis.

- Here, sorry about that. - You apologized after moving completely away from the drinking table, Wanda blinked slightly in confusion, and seemed to remember that she was carrying the glasses only at that moment.

- Oh, yeah, right. - she grumbled as she approached the bucket of ponge. - Just gonna grab something for me and Vis.

- Yeah, I figure that. - You replied harshly, looking down at your own shoes.

Wanda raised her eyebrows at your aggressiveness, and she ventured to ask.

- Do you have any problem with Vis? - said the sorceress, now holding the two full glasses in both hands. You rolled your eyes impatiently, which seemed to irritate her.

What difference does that make? - You replied feeling jealousy fill your chest - We are not friends so what I think doesn't really matter.

You regretted the aggressiveness of your words the moment you said them, and you felt even worse when you looked into Wanda's tearful eyes. But you didn't have time to apologize, because the girl just turned her back on you, going back in the same direction she had come from.

Honestly, you wanted to dig a hole in the ground and disappear. Or maybe bang your head against the wall, believing that your only natural talent was to ruin exactly every conversation you had with Wanda. You thought it best to try to find your date, to say goodbye before heading back to the communal room, so you walked in the opposite direction of Wanda.

You searched for Jessica for several minutes. The girl seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth, and then as you strolled down the empty third floor corridors you found her in a compromising position to say the least.

Feeling your cheeks getting very hot, you watched with a mixture of embarrassment, surprise, and horror as your longtime friend knelt down, her head tucked between the spread legs of Trish Walker who was clutching her skirt with one hand as she threw her head against the wall, her eyes closed. For merlin sake. You stumbled backwards, your eyes wide. They were too distracted to notice you, and it took only a sobbing groan from Trish to break your shock. You turned around quickly, shaking your head to try to push the images from your mind.

As you walked down the halls of the third floor, intending to go back to the party and drink as much smuggled alcohol as you could find to erase the image of Trish and Jessica fucking, you bumped into someone.

Wanda's lipstick was much more smudged than before, and her shirt was slightly wrinkled. And then you knew immediately what she was doing in that hallway. Frowning at her, you noticed that she looked embarrassed at having bumped into someone, but you didn't let her speak, rushing to let out an impatient exclamation and leaning against the wall.

- Good Merlin, everyone decided to have sex today. - You sighed, closing your eyes, but opened them the same second the recent images hit you back, watching Wanda stare at you in confusion. She seemed to hesitate between walking away and talking to you, but you were glad when she turned her body in your direction.

- Who's having sex? - she asked with a mixture of curiosity and concern on her face. You let out a low laugh, and let your body slide against the wall until you sat down on the floor. Wanda copied your movement on the opposite wall, and you were facing each other, both sitting in the empty hallway.

- I just saw first hand two colleagues fucking in the hallway. - You grumbled, not saying you had seen your friends. You weren't the type to spread rumors. - I think I'm traumatized for life.

Wanda fought back a smile, clearly still upset with you for the discussion earlier. You swallowed hard, knowing that you had your chance to apologize now.

- That sucks. - Wanda said simply, and you stared at her.

It took a few seconds, but you finally spoke:

- I'm sorry about earlier. I was just being mean, for no reason apparently.

The girl seemed surprised, but then she gave you a short smile. You began to play with your shoelaces when you were silent for a moment.

- I wasn't having sex. - Wanda whispered so softly that you blinked a few times to make sure you heard something. You looked at her in confusion, but she looked away, her cheeks slightly pink. - Vis asked if he could take me to my room, I didn't feel like partying after our discussion. - She explained, still not looking at you. - He said he wanted to give me a proper goodnight kiss.

You felt your stomach drop. Swallowing all your jealousy, you let out a grumble, signaling that you understood what Wanda had said. You looked back down at your own sneakers, and couldn't notice the witch analyzing every micro-expression on your face, her heart beating uncompensated at the confession.

- I didn't want to kiss him like that. - She said at last, and feeling her gaze on you, you reciprocated.

Although you tried to hold it in, you couldn't help but let a shy smile slip between your lips. You looked away again, biting your lips to keep from smiling at the sorceress's newly confessed words.

You were silent for a moment again, and feeling that you finally had a chance to talk to Wanda, about anything, you decided to stick to the subject. Letting your spontaneity guide your speech, you found yourself asking:

- Did you ever want to kiss someone like that?

Wanda looked surprised, and slightly embarrassed judging by the slight blush on her cheeks. You hurried to explain the reason for the question, not wanting the girl to feel pressured to answer.

- I just mean like, how people are sure of that? - You said, and suddenly your anxieties and fears were all on edge and you found yourself sharing about it. - It’s just I've never done anything like that. I was never able to tell for sure if i wanted to kiss someone or if i was just doing because it was what everyone was expecting.

The sorceress seemed to absorb your words carefully. She rested her face on her knees as she looked at you intently.

- Not even with Jessica? Or Bucky? - Wanda asked and you just nodded.  

- I had a lot of fun with Bucky, I really did. He was sweet and funny, and really cute. - You began to explain, while imitating Wanda's position, leaning your head on the arm above your knee. - But then we got to the Yule Ball together and everyone around us were making out and he just said we should try that too. And I was angry because… - You shook your head slightly to stop yourself from confessing exactly why you were upset that night. - Well, things i guess. I just know that in one second we were dancing and then he asked me if we could kiss and I didn’t want to let him down so I said yes.

- Was that your first kiss? - Wanda asked curiously.

- Not really. - You grumbled. - My first kiss was kind of a shitty situation. I was 9, This girl from muggles school locked me in an empty room and said she was going to show me how her father charmed women. She forced a kiss while I was too shocked to react.

- I’m sorry. - Wanda said sincerely, and you just shrugged.

- It 's okay. I guess she liked me but she had too much trauma to show that in a healthy way. - You said looking at Wanda, who frowned, disagreeing.

- This does not justify her behavior. - She retorted and you just bit your lips.

- You’re probably right. - You grumbled, and looked away from her quickly, building up the courage to confess again. - After Bucky, I thought that maybe I only liked girls and that’s why the kiss felt weird. But then Helen Cho kissed me on New Year.

- Wait, what? - Wanda suddenly exclaimed, and you looked at her curiously. Ashamed of her own reaction, Wanda looked away. - Sorry, I didn't know about this. - You let out a short laugh.

- Well, it was holiday break. I went to Steve’s in New Year. His family had a small reunion and Cho was invited.

- Oh, I remember this. - Wanda said. - My brother and I went back to Sokovia that year, so we couldn’t join the meeting.

- Well, you missed my big kiss, miss Maximoff. - You joked but Wanda didn't smile, an expression you couldn't quite decipher. You decided it was best to keep telling your story. - Anyway, Helen is a real flirt. She joked about not having anyone to kiss at midnight and it took her two drinks to ask me. I’m pretty sure it was only after Thor said no to her.

Wanda laughed softly, attentive to your monologue.

- I said yes because I wanted to be sure that I only liked girls. - You confessed, shaking your shoulders slightly. - I talked to Nat about this and she said the only way to be sure was if i felt that kissing girls was just naturally better than kissing  boys, and I just went for it.

- And? - Wanda asked curiously.

- The fucking same. - You confessed, letting out a sad sigh. - I just felt I was doing because everyone else was doing and I could really feel a connection to her. I simply didn’t like her, you know? Like, everyone describes these butterflies and nervousness, and I thought I was feeling it too. But then I realized that I was just anxious about it being a new experience, and being in public. I wasn't nervous about the person I was kissing, it was just too frustrating.

- Is different with Jessica isn’t it? - Wanda asked after a moment, you raised your eyebrow at the almost hurt expression she had on her face, but she looked away from you quickly.

- Yes, but not because of what you’re thinking. - You said. - I’m not in love with her, you know. Things are way less complicated than that.

A short smile escaped Wanda's lips at her confession, but she did not interrupt you.

- We have a lot of things in common. Especially personality traits. - You explained, smoothing yourself better against the wall. - We become friends quite easily. And for some reason I always thought she was hot.

Wanda's gaze fell from yours immediately, but you didn't notice the sad posture she assumed.

- What I mean is, I was attracted to her after we became friends. Then I realized that it was supposed to be like this. I like to have emotional bonds before intimacy affection. - You explained. - She was my first enjoyable kiss, I guess. We kissed a couple times on truth or dare games, but eventually we both realized that even though we had chemistry, we didn’t work as a couple. Manly because we aren’t in love with each other.

- I thought you two were dating. - Wanda suddenly confessed, the same indecipherable expression on her face as before. You looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

- I never really dated anyone, Wanda. - You explained. - I guess that’s the real reason on why i was so chocked to find people having sex on a corridor.

Wanda let out a short laugh, and you tried not to blush so much at the sound.

- Anyone would be surprised. Virgin or not. - She said, looking at you tenderly.

You fell into a comfortable silence again. You began to play with the button on your costume, before you felt Wanda's foot tap against yours. She had stretched out her legs, and slowly, both her feet touched the soles of yours. You smiled at her.

- I would like it if we were friends. - she confessed in a whisper.

You shook your head, smiling at her with amusement and affection.

- Who said we weren't friends? - You retorted, and a smile filled the other girl's face.

Before either of you could say anything else, noises of footsteps and voices could be heard in the hallway around the corner from where you were sitting. You exchanged a complicit look with Wanda, and you crawled side by side to the edge of the wall, to hear what seemed to be an argument.

Bruce Banner and Tony Stark were arguing about something in that hallway. They seemed slightly intoxicated judging by the slurred words and unbalanced postures, but the distance and the loud party noise made it impossible for you and Wanda to hear exactly what they were arguing about. They stood like that for a few seconds, until suddenly, Tony pushed Bruce against the corridor wall, and the two of them locked into a passionate kiss.

Your jaw dropped in shock, and before you could even process what had just happened, you watched in horror as Bruce took charge of the kiss, pushing Tony against the wall only to kneel in front of the other boy, beginning to unbuckle Tony's belt. You let out an exclamation and before you could make any more noise, Wanda pulled you back into the hallway, one hand covering your mouth as she laughed at your expressions.

- Okay, I admit, that was traumatic. - She said between short bursts of laughter, removing the hand covering her mouth. You laughed breathlessly, extremely aware of the other girl's proximity.

- I'm starting to think someone put sex potion to the punch. - You tried to joke, but then Wanda realized how close you were and stopped smiling.

- That would be a problem. - she whispered. - I had two cups of that.

You swallowed hard, using all your willpower to keep your gaze on Wanda's eyes, even though your brain commanded you to look at her lips.

- Is that making you feel horny too? - You answer in the same tone and then you watch Wanda stare unashamedly at your mouth. You feel a strange tingling sensation at the tip of your stomach and try to ignore the uneven beating of your heart.

But the moment is completely broken when you hear a loud groaning noise, which did not come from any of you. You shake your head, and as you realize exactly where it is coming from you cover your face with both hands.

- Merlin, what the hell was that. - You grumble and rush to cover your ears as the noises continue. Wanda starts to laugh.

- I think that's our clue to leave. - She comments, and it takes a moment for you to realize that she has moved away, already standing up and away from you.

She reaches out to help you up, and you ignore the butterflies in your stomach when she keeps holding your hand as you run down the hall in the opposite direction from where you were standing.

Concentrating too much on the feel of Wanda's hand in yours, you don't realize where she is leading you until you are almost there. You give her a gentle tug on her hand to stop her, and Wanda looks at you curiously.

- Why are you taking me to the common room? - you question curiously, slightly disappointed that the evening was coming to an end.

- Because it's quite late. - she says as if it were obvious, and you raise an eyebrow. - I need to check on Pietro before going to bed, but that does not mean I can't take you to the dorm.

- What a gentlewoman, you turn out to be, Miss Maximoff. - you joked, and Wanda laughed lightly.

You started walking again next. When you finally reached the entrance to the common room, you turned to Wanda, and found her already looking at you.

- Here we are. - You said softly.

- Here we are. - she replied in the same tone.

A moment passed with just the two of you smiling at each other, until you laughed and looked away, nervousness taking over your body.

- I will see you at class tomorrow, Wanda. - You finally said, letting go of her hands. Wanda seemed to consider something and then she moved closer to you, making you hold your breath.

- Goodnight, Y/N. - She whispered before depositing a long kiss on your cheek. You inhaled her perfume, closing your eyes for a brief moment before she pulled away.

You must have been blushing a lot, and you thought it best to hide your embarrassment, looking away from Wanda quickly and mumbling a awkward "Goodnight. You didn't notice, but Wanda smiled fondly at the shy mess you had become. She waited until you entered the common room before turning around.

It has been three weeks since you spent Christmas Eve with Wanda. When you woke up after that night, you knew that there was something different between you two. Some kind of intimacy that wasn't there before. And you had no idea how to deal with it. Now, every time you saw each other, you exchanged accomplice glances, but neither of you took the first action to get closer. Always surrounded by friends, you didn't have much time alone. And with the start of the final exams, you were feeling overwhelmed

And then you agreed to have a drink with Nat at the Three Broomsticks, to take your mind off the tests for a while, only to witness Vis asking Wanda to be his girlfriend during a date at the same place you were. Of course you had to arrive right then and there. Feeling Wanda's and Nat's eyes focused on you, you just held back your tears and left the bar, being accompanied by your clearly concerned friend.

Heartbreak isn't exactly a plausible and acceptable justification for missing class, so you thought it best just to tell Minerva that you hadn't heard the alarm clock.

When you raised your eyes to Wanda that morning, you felt your stomach sink when she had that same complicit look in her eyes accompanied by a slight smile. But you didn't smile back, and not wanting to deal with her worried expression, you just focused on your transfiguration lesson.

It didn't take long for the class to end, since you had missed almost half of it. But you had to stay a little longer to hear Professor Minerva's sermon.

Since you only had the classes for the subjects you wanted to get your N.E.W.T., your schedule was comfortably empty during the seventh grade. The vast majority of the time had to be spent studying if you wanted to get decent grades on the tests, but you allowed yourself to rest this morning, feeling emotionally tired.

You noted that you had three free periods before the next class, and decided to spend one in the kitchens, confident that the elves would cheer you up a bit since the creatures were extremely adorable.

Leaving the room, you observed the empty corridor around you. Your time getting scolded by Professor Minerva clearly made it possible for all the other students to go to their respective classes. You noticed a small group of students playing explosive snap in the middle yard, but you didn't feel like joining in the fun.

Knowing that you still had plenty of free time, you decided to leave your heavy materials in the common room before going to the kitchen, so you changed your route for the moment.

It was only when you reached a particularly isolated area in a corridor that you almost tripped over your own feet. Wanda was standing in front of you, a serious expression on her face.

- I was waiting for you. - She said holding the bag tightly on her shoulders.

- Is there anything you want to talk about? - You asked impatiently. Wanda pressed her lips together

- Why are you being like this? - She questioned with frowning eyebrows, a hurt expression that made you feel a tightening in your stomach.. - Did I did something?

You were so tired of this game. Then you just exploded.

- You know what Wanda, why don’t you go back to your boyfriend and leave me alone! - You shouted impatiently, frightening Wanda who took a step backwards.. - I’m tired of this game we’re playing. I only get hurt from it.

Not waiting for Wanda to answer, you went around her and started walking. You heard her call you, and ask you to wait, but you didn't obey, holding back tears as you walked.

- Please, listen to me. - She pleaded one last time, and you stopped walking. Taking a deep breath, you turned around..

- What? - Your voice trembled a little, the emotion you were hiding escaping in your speech.

Wanda shifted the weight between her feet, lowering her head slightly with reddened cheeks. You imagined that she was embarrassed by the intensity of your gaze, that she was feeling guilty.

- I’m not dating Vis. - She stated lightly. You looked at her with confusion.

- I saw you two at…

- I know. - She cut you off by looking at you as she clasped her hands together, a shy smile escaping her lips. - I told him that i couldn’t date him. Not when I like someone else.

Great. There was someone else. You let out an exclamation of dissatisfaction.

- Look, it’s nice that you’re sharing your love life with me but i don’t see how this is relevant right now…

- I’m talking about you. - Wanda says looking at you.

- W-what? - You ask confused, feeling your cheeks heat up, your heart racing. Wanda looks as nervous as you do as she approaches.

- You’re the person I’m in love with. - Wanda confesses, her gaze intense on you. You find it hard to breathe now.

- Oh. - That seems to be the only thing you can say, no coherent thought forming at Wanda's proximity. She brought her hands up to your neck and pressed your foreheads together

- It 's okay if I kiss you? - She asked in a low tone, you felt your stomach turn with anxiety.

- I would like that. - You say finally, before you feel Wanda's lips against yours.

It's soft. Just the touch of your lips, and you don't move your hands, still not believing that this is really happening. You think you have something you need to say, so you sigh against Wanda's mouth, and she pulls away a bit, her hands trembling against your neck.

- I'm in love with you too, Wanda. - You whisper and kiss her again, feeling her smile against your mouth.

This time it's even better. Your mouths meet and you kiss her firmly, while bringing your hands to her waist. And then just the touch of your lips is not enough, and you run your tongue over Wanda's lower lip, asking for passage. You think she doesn't understand the request because of her lack of reaction, but the next second she bites your lip gently, drawing a gasp from you. When her tongue brushes against yours, you squeeze her waist, delighting in Wanda's taste. So fucking good, you think as your tongues wrestle together. When you slow the kiss, wanting to savor Wanda calmly, she moves her hands up into your hair, trailing her fingers down the back of your neck. Leaving the kiss as slow as possible, you smile against the kiss as you hear her sigh into your mouth. You always liked to tease after all.

You run one hand up her back, over her neck, pressing her against you as your tongue lingers on hers. You both gasp, and then the rhythm of the kiss changes. You let out a low moan as you feel Wanda pull your hair lightly as she increases the intensity of the kiss. Your hand that was on her waist comes down, and you grab her ass, squeezing and consequently earning a groan from Wanda. The feeling of having her against you is driving you wild, and your stomach is doing somersaults while your heart is racing.

As you pull your mouths apart to catch your breath, Wanda starts running kisses down your jaw to your neck, making your whole body shiver. You smile breathlessly, and feel your legs weaken. Realizing that you need a support to stand, you kiss her hard as you push her gently against the nearest wall.

The position certainly awakens something primal in both of you, the kiss intensifies as Wanda's leg curls against yours, and she pulls your body against hers so that you press her against the wall, something you do without opposition. Your hand squeezes her ass again, and she moans against your mouth.

- Fuck. - You sigh as you feel Wanda bite your lip again, your eyes opening slightly to face the fully dilated pupils staring at you maliciously.

You kiss again, Wanda letting her hands roam down your back, the sensation giving you goosebumps. You moan as you feel her fingers enter your burning skin through your shirt.

- For Merlin Sake! - a voice exclaims in surprise and you both stumble out of the kiss in shock.

It takes a moment for you to clear your own thoughts, everything in your body tingling with the feel of Wanda on your skin. You feel your cheeks heat up sharply as you face the one who interrupted you.

- You guys are so lucky it wasn't a teacher to find you like that. - Nat announced, pointing at the two of you, her tone was serious but her eyes showed amusement. She would surely tease you about this in the future.

- I… We - You tried to formulate a coherent sentence, but in the mix of shame and excitement you were in, you couldn't think of anything.

- It 's okay, love birds. - Nat joked, spreading her hands to push you and Wanda by the shoulders towards the courtyard. - You can continue your make out session somewhere else. I don’t recommend the school corridors, especially when you could get caught by Professor Fury.

- Right. - Wanda grumbles and you just nod in agreement

- The bell is about to ring, so I suggest you two find somewhere more quiet to be. - Nat says - I suggest the empty halls from the seventh floor. Or maybe, you know, a bed in any of the dorms.

You think you have blushed even more at the suggestion, but before you can say anything, Wanda stops walking, and you notice that she is as red as you are.

- Actually I have potions now. - She says, looking at Nat quickly, before her gaze focuses on you. She smiles slightly, and moves closer, making you hold your breath. - I see you at lunch, okay? - She speaks tenderly, placing a short kiss on your lips. You close your eyes at the sensation and think that she has gone too fast. Then Wanda nods to Nat and leaves, leaving you with a silly smile on your lips. The bell rings almost in the next instant and the noise wakes you up from your current state.

- Okay, since we both have free periods now, you're telling me everything. - Nat says, grabbing you by the arm as you walk back down the hall.

You laughed uncomfortably, feeling your face heat up. Taking a deep breath, you ignored Nat's excited expression, preparing to tell her how exactly you ended up in that situation.

[fenmere]

The Book

We frequently wish we could send this fucking huge science fiction/epic fantasy book we made back to our sixth grade selves. It would have been so amazing for us to have found this back then.

Let’s daydream about this!

Let’s say we literally send a physical copy of the final draft as printed by Lulu back in time to appear on the shelf of fiction in our sixth grade home room just in time to be seen in the spring by our old selves.

It’d easily be the biggest book on the shelf, and amazingly enticing to us with the alien orthography on the spine. The synopsis is written to appeal to our old selves, too. There’s a table of contents, map, glossary, pronunciation guide and grammar for a conlang. There’s even instructions on how to write in that alien orthography!

Everything in the book is a love letter to our youth. But the thing that would, of course, really grab our attention is the copyright date.

Like, we’d maybe take it as some clever joke.

We’d be like, “This is absurd, but it’s so my sense of humor!”

We’d feel like the book was clearly made for us.

Then we’d read the acknowledgment and see our parents’ first names listed. The only names or details in the entire book that would be familiar. .

We’d take that as a spooky coincidence and consider it to be something that bring us closer to the authors, and might help us get over the weird plural system thing going on. In fact, at first, we wouldn’t know the authors share a body, not until we look at About the Authors. Which we’d do shortly after the acknowledgments at the very least. Nothing there would tip us off consciously that this was us from the future.

We have changed a LOT since back then.

We might be confused about the photos, trying to figure out if this person is male or female. We had enough internalized transmisogyny and interphobia to feel instantly uncomfortable at the sight of trans women. But photos were easier to bear than in person encounters or video, and by this point we’d be sympathetic enough to brush past it and keep reading.

Also, besides “transition”, there’s no vocabulary in the about the authors section that we’d recognize, particularly about plurality. It was 1987, we’d only encountered “MPD”, no “system”, no “headmate”, not even “plural”! And we’d been taught that MPD was fake, impossible.

So, we’d be a little confused, and probably assume that this author is playing a game to make it feel like their fictional world is more real than it is, and we loved that kind of game.

Also, the author talks about multiple partners, and we wouldn’t understand that.

In spring of 1987, sixth grade, we hadn’t heard the word “partner” used instead of wife, spouse, girlfriend, or boyfriend. And we hadn’t heard of polyamory, just polygamy, and that in only a few disparaging terms. We would have thought “business partners”.

We’d have started reading the book itself thinking maybe it’d give us some clues about the author(s), but mostly really intrigued about what their fiction is like!

The very first chapter is about a system realizing they are plural and then picking their own names and pronouns.

We would have been hooked.

The depiction of the internal thoughts and experiences of this different kind of consciousness would have won us over and enticed us to dig in deeply and read the book ravenously.

By the end of the first story, so much would be explained. We’d have and understand all the 2022 vocabulary for positive plurality and neurodiversity, and we’d be exposed to almost all the neopronouns. The neopronouns would have been the most challenging part of the story, but our brain was nimble back then, we’d have picked them up.

Now, the question, of course, is would this book have cracked our egg?

We doubt it.

Technically, we were already living as an enby, though nobody knew it. And in seventh grade science we were about to learn for the first time that “we should have been born a girl” and then decide to just treat our dysphoria to daydream about it.

Like, we’d read fiction and non-fiction that really enticed us already, and it didn’t do the trick. The times were just too hostile in our region, and one more book of fiction wouldn’t have changed that.

Except, this book would have been WEIRD.

If it didn’t change our trajectory immediately, it would have started to really change our life by the time we graduated from high school. But, also, certain parts of the story are identical to our system origins, and many of the characters are actually our oldest members.

We didn’t have our names back then, Phage wasn’t called Phage, and Eh wasn’t called Eh, etc. But we were literally these people almost as described, and a lot of the events had happened in our psyche. There are some differences, but not enough to matter.

We would not have recognized anything consciously.

But we might have had some weirdly strong sense of supernatural connection to the story. It might also have triggered deja vous, which could have caused us to stop reading.

It’s hard to say.

Perhaps the combination of future copyright date, parents’ first names, and spooky familiarity would have broken our plural shell at a time when the veil between our subconscious mind our conscious mind was thinnest and weakest and most strained. And if that had happened...

Well. Coming out as plural back then, as a young teenager who was also closeted about being trans, just would have been an utter disaster, and we knew it. But our 20s would have been totally different, and then we’d also KNOW that the book had actually come from the future. But we wouldn’t be able to prove it to anyone consequential, and we’d feel constantly godlike and special and totally powerless.

Which is how we felt all the time anyway.

We’d probably have started having vivid dreams as if we were characters from the book, very plural dreams, with feelings of revelation and power. Prophetic feeling dreams.

We experienced that kind of dream both when we came out as a dragon and when we figured out we were a girl. These dreams would have coincided with those dreams, and probably would have been more intense.

That would have influenced us a lot, too.

Oh, shit. The URLs!

The website addresses to our wiki and online copy of the book would have made no sense!

But then seven years later the World Wide Web would become public and we’d learn about http, and we’d look up these addresses and find them non-existent, and really wonder. The “.world” domains didn’t exist back then, and wouldn’t for decades, and would seem fake. But we’d ask “How had the authors even known about the internet in 1987?”

That would probably have clinched it for us.

Our most skeptical friends would have said, “The author is clearly someone who was working on the internet in 1987, writing under a pseudonym, and did the copyright dates as a joke, and all the similarities to you are a psychosomatic self fulfilling prophecy.”

But we’d BELIEVE.

This would become our holy book.

[copper-dragon-in-disguise]

I have something to say.

And some people might not like it but whatever. I was scrolling through Pinterest and found this.

Here's the article link if you want to read it.

It's true. They're right. We need a break.

For context: I'm a middle schooler in her early teens, American. Public school my entire life. LGBTQIA+; Anxiety; ADHD; Social Anxiety; and a very bad understanding of social cues sometimes. I'm 2e (Or 'Twice-Exceptional), meaning I'm academically gifted but also have what qualifies as a learning disorder (ADHD). I'm a nerd and don't fit society's definition of normal.

When I was in kindergarten I loved it. Patterns? Easy. Red, Blue, Red, Blue. Writing letters? Sure my handwriting sucked but I understood it. Making clay snowmen in Art class? Fun as hell. Library? The best thing ever. Teacher? She was incredible. Other kids? Yeah, I was social. Foreign concept to me now but I was friends with almost everyone.

But you know what I miss the most?

Naptime.

An hour or so after lunch where you could sit on the floor, with a blanket, and relax. I never actually slept but gods, I got scolded so many times for whispering with the person next to me. I didn't get stressed then. I loved school back then.

First grade? I had mixed feelings. Lot of issues from then.

Second? Enh. Okay- Ish.

Third? If I hadn't had the teacher I had I would not be as okay as I am now.

In 3rd me and my parents looked at a private school. All girls, the entry test thing was amazing. I went there for a visit and there were people skipping- SKIPPING!- because they were happy with their education. But it was an hour away from us and we needed financial assistance. If it had been one or the other I would have gone there in a heartbeat. I loved it.

Fourth? PSSAs are hell, my best friend is on the other side of the school district in a different elementary school because her parents divorced, and I'm stuck with her cousin that doesn't really like me (The feeling was mutual), so I spend the entire year alone because I only ever had two friends. I also had two 15 minitue recesses and that was barely enough to keep me sane but at the same time too much time that made my loneliness even more visible.

Fifth? Ten minutes of break the entire day. Lunch was 30 minutes. The wait in the lunch line was between 5-15 (ish) minutes. My family thinks I eat too fast. I don't. Not for that. I don't have many memories of that year. I repressed them because I was bullied horribly the entire year. It's the first and only time I've ever cried in school. That summer was the last time I cried. I haven't cried in two years. I've repressed the memories to the point that I don't know if it was actually me doing the bullying or if it was her. That's how messed up my brain is. My few memories say it was her bullying me but I don't know. I really don't.

Jean? And her cousin? I didn't really fit with them anymore, but I stayed with them because I had no one else. I should have left. Made friends with Scott or someone else who understood me slightly. yes, I had my parents, but I just never told them because they were already so stressed about other shit. I didn't tell any teachers; they didn't know until it ended in a shouting match in the very beginning of my (tail end of her's) math class. I think my ELA teacher knew though. Or suspected, at least. He never gave me points for reading in class. For a year (two) my only support system was books and I had no actual friends. I didn't have any actual friends until I moved and now I have one.

Sixth? The same (Minus part of the bullying, she wasn't in my classes, mostly), except a pandemic halfway through. I sat with people I barely knew who really didn't get me at all at lunch because I was terrified of being alone, of any potential for being seen as a target ever again. I still am.

Seventh? I moved. No Gifted Program. Middle of a Pandemic. Get back to me in a month, when it's over.

My point is that I grew up too fast. I lost my childhood. I have more of the symptoms of a emotional abuse survivor than I should. I'm not comparing myself to those people; I'm not saying what happened to me is anything like whatever happened to them.

I'm just saying that I went through what, to me, was hell and some of it could have been avoided if I had had the social-emotional learning skills to make a friend.

If school had taught me what it should have maybe I wouldn't be so broken now.

If school had given breaks and less homework maybe I wouldn't be so stressed now.

If I had a chance to breathe in those years maybe I would be different now.

I can't remember the last time I was properly relaxed. The closest I get is when I'm writing; when I'm crafting a story that's all my own.

I don't really know where I'm going with this post. I'm not even sure why I wrote it. But...

I just needed to tell someone and if they- if you ignore me I'll never know.

I don't know if I was the villian. I don't know if I was the victim. All I know is I am broken; touch starved; blaming myself for everything bad that ever happened to me; and I really, really want to cry but I can't.

Sorry its so long and doesn't really connect to the picture at all.

Thank you, if you're still here.

[epinosicc]

This is going to be quite chaotic, but this is something I wrote late one stormy July night about my life this far and how I’ve realized my problems

Okay it’s around midnight where I’m at so it’s time to rant instead of sleeping because I’m a minor and I have ✨issues✨

I tend to think more than what’s probably considered healthy, mostly because I do t have people to talk to. Don’t get me wrong, I have friends, but I don’t know what they’re doing and I don’t want to burden them with my stupid problems. So like any sane person I write my problems on the internet.

I usually think about the weird things when it’s raining. It’s something about the sound and feeling of rain that makes me more content, which makes me think. Now, I don’t have any big problems by any means. I’m simply figuring myself and my life out.

First of all, my previously mentioned friends. I trust them, of course, but at the same time I don’t. And like many who think to much and have a strange amount of self-awareness, I think I know why that is. When I first started going to school, I was confident. I’d already had friends before and thought I knew how to make new ones. The problem with that is that said friends did not go to my school, so I was alone. Until I met my first two friends. They were very nice to me, we played together and got along. The thing that I started noticing though was that if me and one of them arrived at school around the same time and out third friend wasn’t there yet we’d get along great, but as soon as that third friend arrived I’d get ditched in favour of them. And that would obviously hurt me. But we resolved it (not really) and things were going fine. But that experience stuck with me. It was my first taste of loneliness and abandonment (dramatic much?) and it made me doubt myself. I thought that maybe, just maybe, there was something about me that they didn’t like.

Now jump ahead about two years and I was alone Every. Single. Recess. (Oh shit it storming outside right now and some thunder sounded like a bomb) Obviously this only made me feel worse about myself. I just remember being so desperate for some sort of connection with someone. And I got one. I started talking to this person, I’ll call them Bird, and we got along great. Pretty soon Bird was my best and we spent a lot of our time together. I was still sort of friends with the two other people, at least during lessons, and sometimes during recess, but not that much otherwise.

Jump ahead a bit more, another year or so, and my class changed. At my school my class and another (same age as us) we’re combined into one. In this class that we were combined with there were a few new people, one of whom stuck out. Mostly because they didn’t like me, and they weren’t exactly discreet in letting me know. They never said so to my face, but they made it quite clear in how they acted towards me. This also made me feel bad. Is there really something so wrong with me that others couldn’t help but dislike me for it? Can I fix it? What do it that makes me different? (At the current point in my life I’m fairly certain I know what it is so yeah. Fun)

Now, I’d always cared a fair bit about school. I was taught that education was important, and if I was going to spend hours at school I might as well use that time for something, be it academically of socially. So when those around me started caring less about their education and more about things such as appearance and social hierarchy and relationships, I was confused. Why would they just not care? HOW could they just not care? Now, I’m not saying that any of the previous things are necessarily bad things to care about. In fact, ist great! Being invested in your social life and how others view you can be nurturing and make you feel fulfilled. But too much of anything can be bad. Letting yourself care about only those things can be harmful in more ways than one. I’ve never particularly cared about those things; I don’t like dressing up or making myself look good for others. I don’t value others validation of my appearance. What I didn’t notice was that as I believed these thoughts, I started eating less.

But things are still pretty chill. I still struggle with what’s wrong and what makes me different, but that’s fine. I’m pretty sure everyone goes through that at some point in our lives. But now I’m starting to find some answers. I don’t really care much for my appearance or style, I like academic things, I’m starting to fall behind in my social development, people are becoming more bold in stating their opinions, people are more hateful and spread misinformation etc etc (there’s a fucking mosquito who won’t leave me alone fuck off please). And at this point I’m more invested in the online world. But the international online world, not my national online world if that makes sense. English isn’t my first language but I learned it from the internet/YouTube and it’s basically my second language at this point. I learned English for English content creators, and I continued following them, not the ones relevant in my home/country. So I was and still am kind of out of the loop on current influencer events here in the North. This ties in with what I thought to be the answer to my questions: the LGBTQIA+ Community.

I started finding creators from the LGBT+ and I related to them and their stories. But I didn’t think I was one of them. People at school were not afraid to boldly proclaim that being LGBTQ+ was wrong and bad and strange. That there was something inherently rotten about such people. Now, did I agree with that? No. But I let it influence to the point were I thought that others being LBGTQ+ was fine, but me being that wasn’t. I wasn’t aloud to be one of them because there wasn’t supposed to be something wrong with me. But there was something, in the back of my mind, some part of me that knew. That knew who I am and that being me was fine. Too bad that voice wasn’t loud enough.

I still had Bird with me. Granted, they also had other friends, but they still stayed by my side. And they didn’t change like others did. My two first friends are people I also grew closer to at this time. I put our “situation” behind me and ignored it. It was a new chapter of my life, one where thing were changing in the right direction. Too bad I wasn’t too good at reading maps.

At this point I’m in sixth (6th) grade, the worst grade/period/time of my life thus far. After summer break people had changed a lot. Not just socially, but physically as well. We started to mature, we were lite tiny birds, looking out of the nest and thinking about how to take flight and reach above the branches of expectations and reach the clouds of ambition. But some of us didn’t. We didn’t want to start using our wings. At most we took a little peek out of our nest and divided that was enough for now. We began to grow frightened of others and their strange ideas of leaving what we knew was safe. I’m We for those wondering.

I started struggling with anxiety, I couldn’t stand in front of people without being scared and had a few panic attacks during presentations. People would look at me weirdly and I grew paranoid of what was wrong with me. At this point I started eating even less, resigning myself to one potion per meal, and no snacks, sometimes skipping lunch. Once again some of my friends that I had at this point started drifting away from me but now the rest, and I started trusting them even less. I can’t help but think that they’re only pitying me, that they’re going to leave and that they do thing behind my back. There was also someone else who had a big influence on me.

I, along with Bird started hanging around this person, we’ll call them Pen. They were sort of new, they’d always been in our class but had been living abroad for eight (8) months and had just come back. At first things were great. Bird, Pen and I were our own little trio of friends. But soon a change occurred. Pen started getting more clingy, staying uncomfortably close at times and never staying out of our personal space. Bird ended up taking the initiative with one of our other mutual friends and had long talk with Pen which sort of ended their friendship. At first they’d all handled it alone but then Pen involved their parents and thing went downhill. But I wasn’t part of it. Which made Pen hang on to me even more. I could never get away from them, it always felt like they were breathing down my neck. I didn’t tell them this though, they just lost two friends and they must be hurt from it, seeking comfort from someone they still considered a friend. I was uncomfortable, but I felt bad for them, so I continued being around them. Something my teachers had realized at this point was that I tend to take responsibility for other and their actions, and told me that I should try to relax and talk to them as I had seemingly started to become overwhelmed. But I don’t tell others my problems so I didn’t take their help. This kind of escalated a bit next grade.

Grade seven (7) was not my best year but also not my worst. I spent summer break reflecting and thinking, and started to value myself a bit more. I started hanging out with friends more often (usually Bird), and started unintentionally ignoring Pen. Though sometimes, I think it was intentional, as the very thought of Pen at this point made me anxious and uneasy. I thought I could simply let Pen hang around with me, and then let them get their own new friend group. I didn’t want them to only hang around me, it was honestly a bit scary how much I dreaded being around them. The feeling that something was off or wrong around them wouldn’t go away. They didn’t leave me though. No; I became their sole friend whom they refused to leave. In seventh (7th) grade our class was split, with me and Bird being in different classes. I had some friends in my new class though andere became a group. I thought I could nudge Pen to become part of this group. Except that Pen didn’t interact or contribute to the relationship. They weren’t social enough with the group to become part of it, standing in the group only to follow me. And my teachers noticed this and spoke to me. I told them how I was uncomfortable around Pen, and how I would like to not have to sit close to them next time we switched we seats (done every few weeks or so). Teachers agreed. But didn’t follow through. They sat me Right. Next. To. Pen. I confronted them about this. They lied to me. Their reasoning was that one of Pen’s parents had told the teachers how Pen only felt comfortable around me, and that they would like for us to be together at school as much as possible.

I was horrified at this - I couldn’t be held responsible for another students comfort, grades and social life! They basically put all the responsibilities of the teachers - making sure students felt comfortable, helping with schoolwork when needed, making sure the student had friends in the class - on me! I was basically supposed to play friend, teacher and class for Pen! I honestly couldn’t believe it, and told my friends. They told me they understood completely - they could see how emotionally and mentally exhausted I was from taking care of Pen, studying, after school activities and being around people that they were concerned about my well being. They, too, had tried to get Pen to become part of the group, but when only one person is taking care of the ship you can’t expect it to sail. They also felt uncomfortable around Pen. My anxiety only got worse because of this, and I started becoming paranoid that Pen was always watching me, either through my phone or my windows. I could not get myself to relax, not even when totally alone, something I’ve always enjoyed and felt comfortable with.

And at the end of grade seven (7), it happened. I found out that Pen was switching schools. I feel guilty admitting it, but I felt so relieved and free when I found out. Finally, I thought, finally I would get some privacy. All of my other friends are aware of my boundaries: don’t touch me unless I’m ready and aware of it, give me some space, don’t force me to talk when I’m anxious etc. They know, respect and treat me well, and in turn I treat them well and respect their boundaries, but Pen didn’t seem to understand that no, I don’t want you to stand so close to me that I can literally feel you body heat.

So grade eight (8) rolls around and I so does a certain unspecified virus. We therefore had to have school online. For me this was a blessing. I don’t enjoy being around people for too long and I don’t ever want to deal with my classmates bs. The teachers even commented on several occasions that I seemed much happier, which I was considering I didn’t have someone constantly breathing down my neck. And now I start to drift away from Bird. I always considered Bird my absolute closest friend. Almost like a sibling. And now we were drifting apart. We both started walking our own paths, still close together but different in so many ways. We’re still friends to this day, but I don’t think our friendship is going to last until we’re adults anymore. It’s sort of sad, but it is natural. We are both starting to forge our own paths in life, our own docks from which we will eventually set sail from to explore the limitless blue beyond that is life. And one day we might even meet again on some distant island, reconnecting and sharing stories of calm blue oceans to storming black waters. But that will happen with time. For now, I’m content finding materials for my dock with my group of friends, sharing ideas for designs and unfinished blueprints of a distant future. I’m content staring at that great far away horizon painted in the colors of pink, magenta and blue, watching the clouds of today’s events and feeling the winds of tomorrow’s surprises whilst thinking of what one day might be.

TL;DR: I rant about my life and somehow become a poet at the end.

End note - I still struggle with trust and anxiety. I don’t have problems with how my body looks anymore and I don’t confine myself to strict diets and eating schedules. Part of me feels guilty about my situation with Pen, and one part of me feels relieved and happy that I don’t have to deal with them anymore. I’m smart enough and self aware enough to realize my problems and their causes, and I have the tools to craft my solutions. I’m doing good, and know how to keep doing good, at least for a little while more.

[madeyemccdy]

A.R.M. // intro

╰  (  darren barnet. cis-male. he/him. ) welcome back to hogwarts ALASTOR MOODY ! you’re a SEVENTH year from GRYFFINDOR, right ? i’ve got your school file right here. it says you’re a TWENTY-THREE year old PUREBLOOD, is that correct ? this file even has a personality entry, saying you’re LOYAL & HUMBLE as well as BRASH & RECKLESS. is that why you’ve chosen to JOIN THE ORDER ? would you look at that ! it says here other students also describe you as : smoke trickling from the end of a blunt after a long day, scotch on the rocks, finding comfort in one’s own company, and fighting even when you don’t think you can. how interesting. oh well, see you in class !

Stats

Full Name: Alastor Riku Moody

Age: 23

Birthday: January 7th

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationship: Single

Patronus: Phoenix

Boggart: His father gone

Wand: Black walnut, Dragon Heartsring, 13.5 inches

Affiliation: Order of the Phoenix

Biography

Alastor Moody was a mistake. Two adults who were barely adults themselves got caught up one night and the result would last the rest of their lives. Born on a very cold morning, Alastor was the driving force for two twenty-something “adults” to try to get their act together. The bouncing baby boy had been enough for a few years, but after a while his mother, Hina, decided she wanted to focus more on her career. Frequently being featured in Witch Weekly took up too much time to raise a son. As he grew, Alastor’s mother was only ever a name--- she never came back to see her son as he got older. So, it was just him and his father. That’s all the two ever needed.

Even though Walter himself was very busy with his rising career as an Auror, he made as much time for his son as humanly possible. Nonetheless, Walter was at work more times than not, leaving Alastor with a nanny to watch him at the manor. He was taught different languages by his tutors; fluently he can speak English, Japanese, German, and French. Alastor was a boy who loved to learn.

Once arriving at Hogwarts, Alastor was placed in Gryffindor the second the hat touched his head. He took his studies seriously....sometimes too seriously. His friends would often have to drag him from the library, common room, or dorm to do something fun for a change. His father would mention on vacations that he was more than welcome to bring a friend home, but rarely did Alastor take up the offer. He was a man who liked to be alone more times than not. Most of his childhood was spent alone, so nobody could really blame him. 

His sixth year was when he decided he wanted to be an Auror like his father. Alastor knew he had the grades for it--- not to mention the connections through his family, though he refused to actually use them. He would get whatever he wanted from his own hard work rather than ever admitting he might actually need help with something. The man would likely die before asking someone for help. 

Now as a seventh year, Alastor is ready for the school year to fly by. The war outside the castle walls was brewing more and more each day. It drives him restless and he’s always looking for a way to help his fellow peers. Sometimes a little too much. His father mentioned something about getting a few less detentions this year than the last, but whether or not that happens...it doesn’t seem likely.

Wanted Connections

Ex-relationship/fling: Alastor rarely allows himself to get close to people. His circle of people he keeps close is very small, and this would be someone who managed to break down his walls. I’m up to plotting how exactly the relationship ended, but Alastor likely felt like he was getting too close to the person and pulled away. He doesn’t know how to handle his emotions whatsoever.

Current fling/fwb: It’s nothing serious. Alastor doesn’t want a serious relationship since his last one ended on a terrible note. This is just someone he’s likely friends with, but also sleeps with when they’re both bored.

Best friend: He doesn’t have many friends due to the fact that he keeps to himself more times than not, but this would be the person that always manages to drag Alastor out to have a good time. Probably the only person that can get him to go to the pub when he wants to just drink in his dorm room alone, haha.

Friends: Other friends that tolerate his moodiness.

Rival: Alastor is in a fair amount of clubs and also values his grades. It could be anyone that has bested him at dueling club or anyone he got stuck with for a project and really rather not deal with. Not necessarily someone he’s hostile with, but someone Alastor really not see daily.

Enemy: Honestly I’m open to a lot of ideas. He’s very against bloody prejudice and anyone that hurts someone he cares about might as well have a death wish. Really we can go crazy here because it doesn’t take him a lot to dislike someone.