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squishmallow36 · 2 years

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Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Fifty-eight

Word count: 2.7k

Tw: Dex's social anxiety

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @never-mourn-the-good @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @cherryberrybitch @blossomsxgalorex

On Ao3 or below the cut!

“Dexter,” Fitz says, in an attempt to get my attention, which has been lost in a game of Geometry Dash.

I crash into a spike and reply, “Yes?”

“The Forklenator is calling a meeting.”

“Okay…?” I run into the side of a platform.

“You’re being taken to the meeting. Get yourself a copy of the specs and we’re going to Havenfield.”

I reluctantly close my Geometry Dash tab and forward Gisela’s most recent email to my personal account.

“Okay, I’m good.”

“Where’s the Leapmaster?”

“There wasn’t a need for one. Tinker didn’t leave the house. I guess that means we’ve gotta hit Rimeshire first and then to Havenfield. Unless you’ve started carrying around a pathfinder.”

“You’re the regent here. You can apply for one.”

“You are a Vacker. I don’t think they are capable of telling you no.”

“Hey, I was banished with you and Sophie that one time, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I’m sure they’ve conveniently forgotten that.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”

With that, I hold up my home crystal to leap to Rimeshire, and we step into the light.

At home, we pick up Mom in full Squall disguise, then get ourselves over to Havenfield.

At Havenfield, there are many, many adults pacing, including but probably not limited to the entire collective, Uncle Grady, Aunt Edaline, and Della. I’m sure more people are hiding inside.

We push our way into the front room to find Sophie, Biana, Tam, Linh, Marella, Maruca, and Stina, bodyguards on high alert, just chilling on the sofas because we’ve all been through this routine enough times by now that it’s not even worth arguing with the adults.

Forkle waddles up to Fitz and I, saying, “Mr. Dizznee, I’m going to give it five more minutes for everyone to get over here. I’d like you to explain all of the Technical details, as our resident Technopath.”

I nod before he waddles away, and a wave of irrational nausea engulfs me.

Fitz notices me falter, like he always has to do, and gently holds my shaking hand. “You okay? ‘Cause you’re greener than a T-rex.”

I nod, not trusting my voice at all right now.

“Sure? You know, I could talk to them for you, techy details and all. Your boyfriend is a Telepath.”

I don’t even melt into a gay puddle when he calls me that, I’m so preoccupied with the idea of talking to this many people. “You don’t have to--.”

“Let me be useful. For once.”

I don’t tell him no immediately, so he continues, “Please. I’ve sat around useless while you’ve done that programming thing for so long. Let me do this for you.”

“...fine.” With that one tiny word, the pit in my stomach fills, although I do still feel a bit warm.

Fitz smiles, and my heart decides that this is a good moment to flutter. Oh my stars, he’s gorgeous. Control your thoughts, Dex. For once in your life, don’t get distracted by the Fitz in front of you.

“I’m going to need access to your thoughts. Technical reference.”

The pit in my stomach caves in a bit, but that’s normal enough by now that I can ignore it.

“Yep. I apologize in advance for the things you’ll inevitably find in there.”

“I’m not going to poke around inside your head. Just fyi. As much as I want to know how all of it works.”

“The problem is all of the things that will rise to the top. Or the trains of thought that drive off their tracks.”

“You just have to explain the technical things that no one understands. You’re good at that. You’ve taught me a nonzero amount of things.”

“I go off on tangents very easily.”

“I’ll try to steer you back.” Fitz smiles. He doesn’t understand that he’s one of the many things that drives the train off the tracks. “I can still yell at you. Mentally.”

“Lovely,” I reply, and I immediately hear how that sounds like something he would say. Not sure that’s a bad thing. That accent is glorious.

This apparently took the whole five minutes, as Mr. Forkle is wadding back towards us. “You’re up, Mr. Dizznee.”

Fitz smiles again at me. I don’t know why he’s so smiley today but I’m not going to question it. “I got it.”

When he stands up, I can see his face tighten subtly, presumably because of his knee. I wish I could do something more to help. Hobbling around with the cane I built isn’t good enough.

Forkle clearly doesn’t want to question this, as he continues herding the adults into the room. It’s almost as bad as herding mercats.

Fitz stands up in the front, which is just the island in the Ruewens’ kitchen, and I pull up the email for quick reference.

Can you hear me? I ask, just to make sure Fitz is connected should he need me for anything. But my brain has other ideas and starts playing Imagine Dragons for no good reason. I got a lot that’s on my mind, I cannot breathe. Can you hear it too?

Fitz smiles, subtly glaring at me behind it. I try to rein in my thoughts. “Hello everyone. Can I have your attention please?”

It’s more of a desperate request than a typical greeting, but it gets the job done.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why Mr. Forkle brought you all here, and I do not have a concise answer that will also maintain some semblance of order. Before we begin, I would greatly appreciate it if all questions and comments are held off until the end, as I may answer your question before then.”

The peanut gallery isn’t going to stay quiet for that long.

Fitz ignores me. I’m guessing that means I’m part of the peanut gallery. “Recently, one of our members has taken up a position as a double agent for the Neverseen. Xor parents would not be pleased if they found out, so I will not be disclosing this person’s identity, although it will probably be obvious by the end.”

I scream mentally because he just used xe/xem.

Dex, could you maybe dial it back a few notches for a sec? Scream about your neos later? Thanks. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he cut off our connection entirely.

“This person has recently come into some information about the Neverseen’s possible plans, which happen to include Keefe, because of course they do. Now, knowing him, he is not going to be able to keep himself out of danger.”

Someone snorts, and I can’t be certain, but I have a feeling it’s Uncle Grady.

“This person also has reason to believe there will be an ability amplifier involved. Not much is known, but this combination of Keefe’s new abilities and those abilities being Enhanced is not going to have a favourable outcome.”

“That’s an understatement,” Sophie mutters.

And I’m sure he’ll do anything in his power to make it worse.

Fitz’s face twitches with yet another barely contained smile. “Considering the nature of Keefe’s ability, and the timing of this new information, it is plausible to believe that it may be connected to the reopening of Foxfire next week.”

That is precisely when all Exile breaks loose. All of the adults in the room are talking over each other. Sophie and I just make eye contact.

“If you all yell at the same time no one will hear your questions,” Fitz says, trying to regain control of the room.

Biana sees this and pushes her way to the front. “Everyone! Shut up!”

The room slowly quiets once more.

“Thank you,” Forkle says, pushing them away from the centre of the kitchen. “I’m sure we can figure out the best way to handle all of this.”

“Let me guess,” Sophie calls. “You’re all going to argue for the next week until you don’t have a choice. And then we’re gonna have to handle all of the problems you caused.”

“Kiddo…” Uncle Grady tries to protest.

Sophie snaps, “Don’t ‘kiddo’ me. This is exactly what happened with the Celestial Festival. And Loamnore. We debate until we know what we’re doing backwards and forwards and then we get overconfident and the Neverseen pulls the rug out from beneath us.”

“She’s not wrong,” Maruca mutters,

“Well, what do you propose?” Blur asks.

Marella turns to me, asking, “Dex, have you found Godzilla yet?”

“I would have told you immediately if I had.”

“Exile. What’s taking so long?” Stina asks, with slightly less venom in her tone than usual.

I shrug. “Sometimes technology is like that. I’m sure it’ll come back right after another lead turns up.”

“That would be our luck, wouldn’t it?” Linh mumbles.

“What is happening here?” Granite asks, thoroughly perplexed.

Tam answers simply, “Sapphics.”

“Ah, okay. That makes sense.”

“Not to be a total idiot,” Blur begins. “But why should we be worried about how Keefe’s ability plays into all of this? It’s not as though we know where he is.”

Fitz, Biana, and I make involuntary eye contact, and Uncle Grady knows something is up. “What are you three hiding?”

“Nothing,” we all say in unison, too fast, highly suspicious. I mean there’s so many things but, nope, I’m hiding absolutely nothing.

Forkle demands, “What do you know?”

Fitz looks at Biana and I before saying, “If you won’t tell him, I will.”

“You started this whole mess,” Biana mutters.

“Please, for the love of the stars, just tell us,” Wraith begs.

“Keefe’s been living in my closet--in a literal sense; we don’t need to get into the connotative meaning of that today--for the past couple of weeks.”

The room dissolves into chaeos once again, but this time any and all attempts to regain order are futile.

Sophie wanders over to me, asking, “How long have you been roped into this?”

“Honestly? No clue. It’s been a while. Fitz has been hiding him for at least a few weeks. He’d say it’s felt like years. I’m not entirely sure. I have no sense of time.”

“Why didn’t you…why didn’t you tell me he was here?”

Please don’t hate me for this answer. “Logistics. One fewer person that knows means there’s one fewer chance it could make its way back to Gisela.”

“You don’t trust me?” The worry crease is here in full force.

“You and I both know that if you knew, Sandor would too. And if he knew, he would sell Keefe out to save you without a second thought. And I know you would protest, but that wouldn’t change Gigantor’s mind.”

“Stop having valid arguments.”

“Don’t worry. That’s the only halfway decent argument I’m allowed to have this week.”

Sophie smiles, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I look out into the yelling crowd we’re collectively choosing to ignore. “They’re gonna keep doing this all this week, right?”

“Yeah. They might stop for food at some point but yeah.”

She and I sit down on the nearest sofa with that, and I wave Fitz over here. Totally because of his knee that I don’t want to have to stand. Totally.

He sees me after a moment, and, while walking over here, says, “I hope I didn’t do a terrible job with the whole presentation.” Fitz sits down next to me.

“Better than I would’ve done.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“You go on believing whatever you want. Even if it is wrong.”

Fitz graces us with a soft smile, and I forget how to breathe a little bit.

Hey Dex… Fitz begins telepathically. What would you say if I maybe told Sophie about us?

I forget how to breathe entirely. Sweet rot, you just referred to our insanity as an ‘us’...Shut up, Dex. Fitz, it’ll inevitably be weird but I think you’ve tolerated me for long enough by now and I guess she should be told eventually. Why not now?

Fitz leans forward, “So, um, Sophie?”

Sophie shifts forward to see him, and I lean back in an attempt to not get in the way. “‘Tis I.”

“So you remember how I told you how I think I’m bi?”

When did that happen?

“Yeah,” Sophie replies.

Fitz looks at me, “Yeah, I told her. We can talk about it later. It was like a week after the incident about which we do not speak.” He turns to Sophie. “Do you remember how, in that conversation, we spoke about someone to whom we only referred as ‘my current hyperfixation’?”

Thanks.

“Yes, of course,” Sophie answers.

“So I took your advice and tried to patch up everything that I messed up. The jury is still out on how effective that was, but we’re dating now. We’ve only gone out officially a few times but I figured now’s as good a time as any to let you know.”

Sophie smiles, having to know, “But who is this mystery boyfriend, may I ask?”

I turn to her and offer my hand in a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

Sophie takes an excruciatingly long second to process before throwing her arms around me so tight that I can’t breathe.

She doesn’t hate me. Thank the stars.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispers in my ear before pulling away just enough to allow me to have a small amount of oxygen. “And you too, Fitz!”

She pulls away completely. “As I am friends with the both of you, please know that if either of you hurts the other, I will hurt you.”

Fitz and I both giggle.

“Not gonna lie, I was kind of convinced you’d hate me. Considering all the Fitzphie drama.”

“We don’t talk about that; I had my chance. And, besides, you two are adorable together. How did I not see this before?”

“Because we are very firmly in the closet,” Fitz mutters.

“And we would greatly appreciate your discretion with this new information,” I say.

“Of course! Is that even a question?”

“Let us be paranoid.” I pause, debating with myself. “While we’re talking about this, I think I’m going to add xe/xem to my pronoun set. But then change the possessive form from xyr to xor. For reasons I don’t think you want to hear me ramble about today.”

“Cool. Let me know if anything changes with regards to your pronoun hoard,” replies Sophie, smiling.

“You don’t know how nice it is to not have to explain these things,” I laugh.

“The Lost Cities are so straight. What else did you expect?” Fitz asks.

“Yes, but the thing is: the Lost Cities aren’t all that straight. The longer I’m gay, the more people I find out are also not straight.”

“Literally like the only one I know is Keefe. He’s pan. He wants me to tell anyone who’s willing to listen,” Fitz says.

“You say that when you learned of two more today,” I add.

“Yes, but I’m not allowed to acknowledge either of them.”

“Do you want another one for the pile?” Sophie asks, blushing fiercely.

Neither of us argue with that offer.

“Fair warning: this has not been totally solved yet. But I know for a fact that I’m not exactly straight.”

“Is Biana or Linh causing the gay thoughts?” I ask, smiling.

Sophie laughs. “Yes.”

Surprised she figured that out, considering how oblivious she is about Keefe, Fitz transmits. I barely contain a laugh.

“Also, gender is a very interesting thing.”

“That is a very true fact,” I reply.

“I might try she/he. I don’t totally know. Just to keep you updated with my insanity.”

“My mental dictionary has been updated,” I give him a quick squeeze, smiling.

“Mine too,” Fitz adds. “And I apologise in advance for when I inevitably mess up.”

“As long as you’re trying your best, that’s enough,” Sophie replies. “I’ll probably be just as bad, if not worse.”

#Look it's getting slightly more cisn't #Yeah this is called i knew my plot was winding to a climax so everybody you're getting out of your closets whether you like it or not

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lifeofanycspedteacher1 · 1 year

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Journal #8 12.02.2022 Student Relationships are Rewarding

I have built many great relationships with my students thus far. I have first established a reflective relationship. This relationship is based on listening to my students. I listen to them when they are misbehaving, I listen to them when they are being distracting and disruptive, I listen to them when their heads are down, and I simply listen to them when every day I ask them how they are feeling.

Highlighting my most memorable relationship with my teacher in high school:

I remember in my high school experience that teachers barely took time to build relationships with me – one of the major reasons I was disinterested in all my classes. In 11th grade, I had a changing experience on how I viewed teachers and education. My history teacher for 11th grade and I had a non-existent relationship. When we had our first meeting about my first essay for his class, he wanted to understand why I was struggling with sentence structure and format. He asked who my English teacher was and my English teacher was present in the same room where my meeting took place. She raised her hand with embarrassment. I did not like her as she often would disregard me during our English class. I was struggling in all my content areas except Pre-Calculus because I am an English Language Learner and I find myself trying to translate English to Spanish and vice-versa. I will get confused. I was the quiet child in my classes as well. I did not have an answer for him when he was trying to get to know me academically. But one day, he observed that I like soccer. He started to ask me about my favorite soccer teams and about soccer. He became my favorite teacher. He took time to get to know me. My reading, analytical, and writing comprehension skills improved drastically in his class. I still did not participate in his class, but he was impressed with my love for soccer. He used my interest in soccer to connect with the enduring issues he was teaching in his class. He is the reason I picked up an interest in history. I went from disliking it to loving it.

Why did I share this story? The power of teaching is rooted in the connections you make with your students. Students are children who want to be noticed and heard. Students want to be spoken like they are humans. Students want to be appreciated. My history teacher was culturally responsive enough that in senior year I chose another class of his. I was not interested in World War II – I just really like how he taught and how comfortable I felt as a student and person in his class. I was seen and heard. This is the doctrine I am following on my way.

I have one student in my Geometry class that tends to stress me out – in a good way. He is someone that in the beginning of the semester failed to do work and will always sleep in class. I remember my TAD from the teaching fellowship in the summer stated that the students who give you the most “headaches” are the ones that are going to remember you the most. I was assigned to be his success mentor and IEP teacher. For some reason, I took a kind liking to him, and assumed the total responsibility of making sure he passes his regents next year, his classes, and that I can support him academically by assisting his tutoring sessions to guarantee a one-to-one instruction. This student and I have created a bond where I make sure he knows I am not giving up on him even if he feels he wants to give up on himself. He possesses so many qualities to be in a better position academically despite his disabilities. Following up with his father, I got to know him better as a person and understand the why’s of his behavior. My student told me that he does not like me yelling or scolding the class, but he does miss my presence when I am not in class. This type of sincerity from him created a fondness in our relationship.

Stories like his are not the only ones I hold so dear. I have a couple of students that are deemed “problematic” yet behave well for me. As the year progresses, I create activities to get to know my students a little more. You never stop in getting to know someone and the effort to know someone should not stop. I believe that a little bit of kindness goes a long way. As someone that stresses mental and emotional health, I cannot be a hypocrite. I practice what I preach.

My simple tips for building relationships are:

- Know their name

- Make eye contact when speaking with them

- Have high expectations

- Be reliable and trustworthy

- Set reasonable and realistic goals

- Praise and encourage

- Reward for small successes as well as larger ones- Respond instead of reacting

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