#The second building is I think just for the engineering students and/or nursing Students

[apollolewis]

I've Registered for my fall semester and they really do shove all of the history Classes in one room, and the room that every single history class is in never has the wifi working properly, or the ac/heating working properly.

[bonetrousled]

VILLAINMOTEL BACKSTORY MASTERPOST idk if i’ll update this if i change anything but here’s everyone’s bullshit. spoilers i guess if it ever becomes anything

the city of NEW NEW JERSEY is the hottest superhero and tech hub in the entire country! housed in the state of the same, most heroes (and villains) who travel here want to make it big, and for the state’s original residents, that’s no exception, either.

one group of self-proclaimed supervillains lives together in the formerly-bustling verbena motel, a bed and breakfast that scrapes by using the New New Jersey Supervillain Education Clause which states that a villain cannot be arrested in an educational building (which the motel technically counts as since it houses a library).

MOTEL RESIDENTS

nurse hurtem: medschool drop out who became an underground boxer. originally started boxing to make money for student loans, but found out she liked it more than becoming a doctor. grew up with absent business-minded parents who tossed her into various schools for troubled youth since she would act out for attention. unofficial leader of the verbena motel villain team! sarcastic, snarky, and quick to anger, but sisterly at heart

trajothaddeus “traj” captio: nepobaby alien crashing here to hide from intergalactic authorities on fraud charges. heir to the throne of a vast scrapping empire (but unwilling to get his hands dirty), he was taught from a young age to let others do the work for him. talks big game about receiving checks from his father, but refuses to reveal that he’s been excommunicated. surprisingly good inventor and engineer! currently running influencer scams despite having three followers. stuck-up, dramatic, and organized

misery: psychic delinquent teen child of famous abstract fashion designer parents. sent to a school for troubled youth after an incident where they exploded a salad bar with their mind at school. has the ability to speak to spirits and manipulate shadows, along with telekinesis. weirdgirl supreme. always staring at people. usually has bugs in pocket. doesn’t talk often or emote outwardly, but their intentions are in the right place. offputting, genuine, and quiet

KEVIN LASTNAME: amnesiac deity of ultimate destruction. during an incident roughly a year ago where a group of teens summoned him on accident and he was attacked out of fear in his fragile, freshly-formed state, he was injured severely and staggered in the night until he came across the motel. knocking on the door and seeking refuge, he was then concussed a second time at the door because hurtem saw a twelve foot tall skeleton thing and was scared. on coming to, he had no idea of any aspect of his past or where he came from. scared of modern technology. too strong for his own good, resulting in being the muscle of the team. incredibly loud, blunt, and frankly stupid as rocks, but he tries his best. powers include whatever i think is funny

the lobotomizer: co-founder of the motel with her mafioso wife, betty bundtcake. used to date big tech mogul franka richter, but was murdered by her after seeing something she shouldn’t have. she qaunlived out of sheer spite, piecing herself together until she was whole again- at the price of her sanity. she and her wife made the motel out of necessity for those needing a little help hiding from the law (or anyone really) or just a place to stay. means well and cares for those she loves, but can be (always is) unethical in her studies and experiments. good-natured, humorous, and slightly off-kilter. has a zombie wiener-ish dog named frankie.

NNJ JUNOR HERO LEAGUE

secret admirer: a programming and engineering whiz, along with having healing powers and enhanced speed, she's a shoe in for the NNJ junior hero league. cares deeply about her teammates and hopes they're able to stick together once they all graduate into the big league. caring, passionate, but tends to be too modest for her own good

high roller: has the power of supernaturally high luck. originally put this to use at the big casino in the city, but was caught and recruited to the junior league as an alternative to legal punishment. found out she likes the attention from hero work more than the pay (which is still rather decent) and has been on the right side of the law ever since. a little bit of a show off, good-spirited, and witty

screwloose: former quantum physicist permanently altered after an experiment gone wrong. now abides by toon logic and physics and has gone completely insane. loose cannon of the group, forcibly entered into the league by the hero council of the city due to the potential danger they could put the city in with their powers. they only stay because it's entertaining. unpredictable, snarky, and irresponsible

phenomenon: also entered the league willingly. general generic superstrength type hero, though he's got a huge heart, for better or for worse. along with this he's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always lifts all of his teammates up and to victory! kind, sensitive, loyal, and a little oblivious

adam "the intern" subtract: who is this guy?? whatever. he can make more or less of certain objects. kind of sucks ngl

MISC. CHARACTERS

wilbur "riff" captio: older brother to traj. got the short end of the stick nepotism-wise and received poor treatment on the job and all through life in general. his father tested a workplace-boosting energy drink on him that left him permanently scarred and prone to transforming into a giant beast, so he packed his shit and left. was hunted by traj for years on a mission from their father to drag him back to work, but has managed to evade capture since traj was exiled. currently working as a con-man selling bullshit outside of casinos and in those little kiosks in the middle of mall aisles

megabyte: vampire computer virus supervillain, and 1/6 of the NNJ Official Villain Council (which is not legally recognized by the government). feeds by draining electricity and data from machinery, and can infect other mechanical beings or devices to sap energy for her for limited periods of time. has a little lightbulb themed cronie named wattson. incredibly cheesy, snooty, and not actually that evil

franka richter: born without powers, she had to scrape to the top through will alone, all while battling the unexpected heart failure of her young adult love, laura albrecht. current founder and CEO of PHYSM, a company that makes basically everything in the area and sponsors the hero league- though they're most famous for smartphones and home assistants a la google. known publicly as a major philanthropist and community pillar, though that couldn't be farther from the truth. retired heroes keep going missing or being found dead. nobody is investigating. everything is fine.

[miekasa]

speaking of college boys, what do the college au aot babies study??

Okay, okay, I think I’ve talked about this in an ask before but I can’t find it 😭😭 but it’s okay, I love college aus, so I’ll talk about it again! Plus, now I’ve got more thoughts for more characters, so here we go

Levi — neuroscience and psychology of human behavior

He started out on track to do a bachelor of arts in psychology, but when they touched on the anatomy and biological parts of it during his first year lecture, he switched to a bachelor of science.

The focus is still psychology, but through a more clinical lens. Essentially, he gets the best of both worlds this way. He’s intuitive and analytical, so clinical and mental diagnosis is easy to dissect for him. He’s also canonically good at math, so the calculus and stats parts aren’t too bad, either.

This major also leaves him with a few options post-grad, which is a nice bonus for him. He’s likely going to medical school, but that’s not the only route open to him: law school, therapy, lab work, medicine and pharmacy, even teaching are all viable options without going to grad school.

Do not talk to him about Freud unless you wanna get punted off a building.

Be careful with him, because with a single glance he’s already got scarily accurate predictions about your parental and emotional attachment styles, your behavior in social settings, and the onset (or seemingly lack thereof) of your frontal lobe development.

He thinks he’s so smart making comments like, “I see those synaptic connections aren’t working so well for you today,” like mf come here let me lobotomize you and see how well your synaptic connects are working after that🙄

Eren — general health sciences

He’s interested in science and the discovery aspects of it, but picking a specific field of focus right now feels too final. He likes it this way, because his schedule and requirements are less restrictive, and he has more room to find out what really interests him.

He does best when he’s doing something he loves, so picking a major with a bunch of reqs that he couldn’t care less about would have sucked big time for him. It also would have affected his grades. There are still some classes he has to take that he’s not fond of (see: chemistry), but that’s to be expected. Science in general is cool to him and he hopes to make his own discovery some day, even if it’s microscopic.

He also plays a lot of sports, keeping his schedule flexible is important. The sports end up helping him excel academically, which is a nice bonus. Honestly, Eren uses his time at university to learn more about himself than anything, so having control and freedom to do what he likes the majority of the time was important to him. 

He uses his elective credits to take philosophy or history courses of his interest, or maybe even a course that you’re in just to spend time with you. He also uses you as a live model for his homework bye, congrats on being patient number one to him.

Armin — astronomy and physics

He’s still interested in marine biology, but unless he attended a school near a coast, or with a specialized integrated program for that, it’s unlikely he’d major in it during undergrad.

Space and ocean exploration aren’t all that different. Both are vast, largely unexplored domains that reel-in Armin’s interest for discovery. So, while studying astronomy, he still gets to study evolution and make his own predictions about what could be out there because there’s so much to know.

Physics comes with the territory of learning about planetary science, and he’s mathematically inclined, so it works out for him. Learning about the different physical properties of other planets and space masses is honestly pretty sick to him. Because math isn’t a struggle, he actually considered aeronautical engineering, but he didn’t want to be a part of the college to military pipeline; that is, he didn’t want any potential design of his to be weaponized. 

He still gets to study animal biology through his elective courses, and might even find a few focused on marine animals to satiate him. Plant and cell biology are also of interest to him, and are just further applications of his primary study anyway, so he’s got plenty of room to work with.

This boy is interning at NASA and still, with his whole chest out is like, “I don’t need to discover a new planet, you’re my whole world.” Armin, go check on the Mars rover or something please.

Mikasa — anthropology + minor in japanese language studies

Anthropology is virtually interdisciplinary in nature, and Mikasa is a pretty well rounded student, so she’s able to excel in a program like this. She gets to study history, science, cultural studies, and even a bit of art all at once.

She’s still debating between going to law school vs med school, so anthro this is a good in-betweener. She gets a taste of science through her anatomy and kin courses; and lots of practice with reading and dissecting texts through the historical and cultural lectures. So, when the time comes to decide, she’ll have some experience with both.

Don’t know whether it’s confirmed that she’s (part) Japanese or not, but either way I headcanon that she speaks/spoke some second language at home. She wanted to delve more into it, and courses were offered at the university so why not?

Cultural studies courses end up being her favorite. She likes learning about the history of people and their cultures, and it encourages her to learn more about her own family history and culture. It also propels her to apply for a study abroad opportunity, so she spends at least one semester doing an exchange program and absolutely loves it.

She would also encourage you to apply and go, too. You guys might not be in the same program, but if there’s an applicable program in the same country she’s going to, then she’d definitely want you to apply. Spending the semester away with you would be a dream come true.

Hange — bioengineering + minor in political philosophy and law

It’s almost self-sabotage to be in an engineering program and have a minor; the coursework for engineering alone is backbreaking, and bioengineering has the added weight of human intricacies, but of course Hange makes it possible. 

They’re nothing short of a genius, so of course they have time to work a completely unrelated minor into their schedule. It doesn’t surprise anyone that they go on to complete an MD-PhD after undergrad. Insane. 

Bioengineering is essentially the synthesis of chemical engineering and health sciences; Hange spends their time exploring biological sciences and applies the engineering aspects of their coursework to their understanding of (and interest in creating) medicine. Truly a one of a kind mind. 

They also have an interest in philosophy and justice, so when they found out they only needed a measly nine or ten courses to minor in, they went for it, of course. In honesty, they don’t find the studies all that opposing: both law making and medicine making both have some kind of philosophy or method to them in their eyes. 

Hange has... little to no free time pls. They don’t mind it, because they love their coursework, but this means you are essentially ducking into their labs or scrambling to find them in-between their classes during your time in undergrad. They appreciate every second spent with you tho, and will gladly rope you into long discussions about their work. 

Jean — biochemistry + minor in art sustainability

He was undeclared his first year, and took a little bit of everything: art, science, history, anthropology, english. Basically, anything that fit into his schedule. It was hard for him to pick one thing—he liked the science and lab applications of STEM courses, but not the math; and the obvious painting and creativity of art, but hated the pretentious air about art history.

What he wants to do is make a difference, which is how he ends up knowing that he wants to go to med school after, so he picks a science-heavy major, but uses his elective spaces to take art courses. When he mixes the two, he ends up on sustainability—and the complexities about it that are applicable to both science and art are what really reels him in.

Interdisciplinary studies end up being his forte. He can approach sustainability from a science perspective which impacts his art style and materials; and tuning into his creative side allows him to think about science not just from a purely clinical perspective, but from a human one, too—patients are people after all.

He believes that everything is connected somehow, even things as seemingly opposite as art and biochemistry. And he works towards finding the unique intersection where everything overlaps. His studies are pretty cool, and he’s very passionate about them, so ask him about it 😌

The art he makes is pretty sick, too, and often commentary about science; he’s proving they’re not so opposite. You also heavily influence his studies in both areas: caring about you so much inspires him to take the healthcare focus seriously, and your very nature is inspiration to his art. 

Sasha — nursing

She’s friendly and good at working with people, so nursing was an easy choice for her. She accredits most of her motivation to being around her younger family members, and learns that she finds a simple kind of joy in helping to take care of others.

She struggles a bit her first year when it’s mostly all grades and standardized testing, but when she starts getting clinical experience and working in the hospital on campus, things round out for her.

Patient care is her strongest point. A lot of people often forget that knowing everything isn’t everything; if you don’t know how to calm or even just talk to your patient, you’re not that great of a healthcare professional.

Pretty certain that she wants to work with kids in the future, but she’s open to public health and even being a travel nurse if she finds opportunity there!

Of course, she’s pretty doting when it comes to you and all her friends. She might want to go into pediatrics, but the basics of nursing and health care extend to everyone, so you’re guaranteed to be well taken care of with Sasha around. You might even have to switch roles and take care of her sometimes, because her coursework can get pretty out of hand.

Connie — computer engineering with a focus on game design

He might not look it, but Connie has a brain under that shaved head of his. Computer engineering is cool to him because he basically learns about how simple things he uses every day (ie: phone, computer, microwave) works.

Systems and coding are actually the easy part for him, especially when they get into the application of it and aren’t just stuck looking at examples. That’s how he gets into game design.

The part about math and electricity and magnetic fields… well let’s just say he needed to make friends with someone who likes math and hardware his first year to get through it. But the struggle was worth it, because by his junior year he’s found a professor willing to mentor/supervise him as he works on his game and other projects, so life is good.

His school work is definitely hard, which is why the lives by the mantra of “work hard, party harder.” It’s only fair. 

He makes you a little avatar so you can test out his games for him <33 best boyfriend things <33 He’d also… build a game about your relationship. Every level is a different date you guys went on, and he definitely includes something cheesy, like “There are unlimited lives because I love you forever babe <3”

Porco — kinesiology + maybe mechanical engineering

He’s pretty into athletics and working out, but didn’t wanna go down the sports psychology route; he wanted something that left him with a few more options, so he ended up in kinesiology.

He was surprisingly pretty good at biology in high school, so something stem-oriented works out in his favor, and it turns out he’s pretty damn good at anatomy, too. He’ll probably end up in physical therapy after graduation.

He’s also got a knack for cars, which is where the engineering comes in, but he doesn’t care so much for the math part of it (he doesn’t care for it at all actually, fuck that); he just wants the hands on experience of building/fixing things and working with his hands. So, if he can get a minor in it and not struggle through 4 years of math, then he’d do that. If not, he’d take a few workshop-like classes.

Because he wants to go into physical therapy, you are essentially his practice patient. Your back hurts? Not a problem, he’s basically a professional masseuse. Muscle aches? He’s got a remedy and understanding of why it’s happening. Don’t let him catch you hunting over your desk grinding away at your homework, because he will poke your neck and correct your posture (he’ll also massage your shoulders, but after the scolding).

Pieck — classics + minor in philosophy

Ancient studies interest her, but more than that, the language of ancient Greek and Roman culture fascinates her, so classics is the way to go.

Because her focus within Classics ends up being Greek and Latin language studies, she is essentially learning both languages at the same time. She gets farther with Latin that she does with Greek. For whatever reason, the former comes almost naturally to her, so her written and translated work is more complex in Latin.

However, she finds cultural studies relation to Greece more interesting than that of Rome, so it’s a give and take with both; better at languages for Roman studies, better at culture and history for Greek studies.

Her minor is a natural evolution from her primary coursework. Ancient Romans and Greeks set the foundation for a lot of modern day philosophy, so it comes up in her major classes, but she wanted to delve further into the philosophy, and not just look at it historically, so she takes more courses to fulfill the minor.

Can be found laying on a blanket in the quad on a hot day, with her books spread out all around her, highlighter in hand as she works through her reading. You’re always invited to sit with her, and more often than not, it ends up with Pieck’s head in your lap, a book in her hands, and your own schoolwork in yours as you both read in each other’s company.

Bertholdt — computer science and coding

He’s level headed, good at planning, and above all, patient, so he’s cut out for this. He doesn’t consider himself to be particularly creative, which is why he doesn’t pick a speciality with lots of design; but he’s good at streamlining and ideas to life.

The patience really comes in when his code doesn’t run. It’s frustrating to scroll for two hours just to find out that the issue is a missing semi-colon in line 273 that he overlooked, but Berty will sit there until he finds it.

He’s also good at fixing issues. That’s not limited to issues in the code itself; it can mean finding shorter ways to produce the same function or loop, or integrating new aspects into existing code.

Also, he’d just be so cute, coding away on his computer. Just imagine: Berty working on his homework in the library, he’s got his signature crewneck + collared shirt look going for him, his blue-light glasses, a cup of coffee nearly as tall as him sitting at the corner of his desk. Adorable.

He’d make little codes/programs for you, too, even if it’s silly. A simple code that helps you decide what to eat for dinner or where to go on a date, one that shuffles different reminders for you, hell he’ll even forgo the torture of design engineering just to build you a little robot that says “I love you” to you.

Reiner — english + minor in justice & political philosophy

Everyone expects Reiner, star quarterback of the university’s rugby team, to be a business student or communications student; but no, he’s an English major, and he loves it.

Just imagine a guy as huge as Reiner absolutely manhandling someone on the field, just to show up in his lectures with a tiny paperback of The Great Gatsby tucked between his fingers with his reading glasses on. It’s so precious.

He’s always running a bit late to class—either coming from the gym, or practice, or oversleeping from exhaustion—but he’s so sweet to his professors and genuinely interested in the literature that they don’t give him a hard time about it. They can tell that balancing school and sports is difficult, and they just appreciate that he takes his studies seriously.

Yeah he’s in a book club and he dog-ears his books. What about it. They’re doing poetry this month and Reiner actually likes Edgar Allen Poe. Who said jocks can’t be sentimental.

He also reads a lot outside of his classes, and has a soft spot for coming of age stories. He usually empathizes with the main character somehow. His ideal weekend plans after a week of grueling games and essays is taking a long, relaxing shower at your place, while you both share a bottle of wine, and maybe even get you to read a chapter or two of his current book out loud to him.

Annie — clinical psychology/neuroscience

Almost scarily analytical and methodic, so this major was calling her name. Localizing brain legions is… insanely intuitive to her it’s incredible. She’ll be an insanely impressive doctor someday, even if she doesn’t end up working with patients directly. 

She doesn’t care too much for the more philosophical/reading heavy parts of psychology. Even experiments and research closer to the social end of the spectrum aren’t all that interesting to her; but the brain science behind it it.

Nobody should be good at cellular biology. Nobody should be able to ace cell bio and neuro and calc and work towards their thesis proposal in the same semester, but Annie proves it’s possible.

Ends up working in one of her professor’s labs by her junior year. She was offered three TA positions working with first year students, but she swiftly turned them down. Teaching isn’t her thing.

She doesn’t bring up her studies to you unprompted, but if you ask her about them she’ll explain it to you. Her notes are color coded and it’s super neat, and very cute; coloring them is somewhat relaxing for her. She usually saves the coloring part for when you guys study together; there’s extra comfort in doing it with you around.

[tomtenadia]

My knight in shining armour

Rowaelin month Day 2 - University AU

I literally just finished this. I wasn’t going to write for this prompt but then an idea finally hit me.

The title as usual is bad... sorry

2k words

-----

Aelin had days in which she hated men. That was one of those days. 

After finishing high school she decided to took a challenging course at the University of Terrasen. Her dad, before he retired, had been an airforce pilot. She had grown up going around his base, visiting him when he was back. In doing so, she had become obsessed with planes. As she grew up, her dad had let her get friendly with his engineer and the man had started teaching her all she needed to know about aircrafts. From the basic physics to the more obscure detail of how the jet worked. Aelin had been fascinated. She had started reading all the possible books, and as she got older, her dad’s engineer had also started having her to actually help her in the hangar. In the summer when school was out, she would actually get a part-time job as an apprentice at the base and she had loved every moment of it. She had also become very close with the two female pilots and together they had spent time talking about the life of a woman in a boys club. The two women had become her role models very quickly.

Terrasen was quite and open minded country but some ideas were still quite obsolete.

In high school at the question “what you want to be when you grow up?” She always answered an aircraft engineer for the airforce. She never faltered or never doubted. That’s what she wanted to, that was her path.

But when time for uni arrived and she applied for a degree in aeronautical engineering, that’s when she realised that the boys club extended far more than she expected.

She was basically the only woman in the class. None of the guys had approached her and on the first day she had walked in the classroom, one of them had the guts to tell her that the humanities department was in the annex c. She ignored the bastard and sat down at the front. She belonged in that room and she would prove it to every single one of them.

Day after day she had shown her knowledge and surprised her professor who was amazed at the fact that she could answer such in depth questions. Last time it happened, she had turned to Chaol - the asshole who had told her about the annex c, and gave him a smirk. That had removed his stupid grin from his face. It felt amazing.

During a private one-to-one with her professor she had confessed to him she had been working at the airbase as an apprentice during the past three summers. Her teacher had luckily been very supportive and encouraged her to keep up the good work.

Now, six months in, she still hated with a vengeance the arseholes she had to study with. Some of them even had the guts to ask her for some help after they realised she was actually good. She had answered that surely they didn’t want the help of a woman, and walked away.

After another class it was finally lunch time and she was meeting Rowan down at their spot on the grass. They were a couple. He had asked her out in the summer after high school was over and they had been together ever since. He was a med student and he knew her pain about choosing a challenging degree. Both their degrees were very intense and required a lot of time so they would just try and spend as much time together as they could. They had a flat together but the public library was were they spent most of their time.

And when their schedules allowed it, they would enjoy lunch together, venting about their academical choices.

“I fucking hate that bastard.” She raged, dropping her bag on the grass and sitting at his side, depositing a kiss on his lips. She felt better almost immediately, being in his arms was all she needed to feel okay again.

“What did he do now?” Asked Rowan knowing of her struggles in her classes.

Aelin grabbed her bag and pulled out her food, the dinner that Rowan had prepared the previous night and then packed away for both of them.

“The teacher gave us an exercise where we had to design an aircraft with what we had learned so far.” She told him, while munching away her food “He was up first and his project was a effing disaster. Seriously, I’d wouldn’t want to fly on a plane designed by him.” She took a sip of her water “the teacher asked us to say what was wrong and it took me ten minutes to stop. I mean, a two year old would have done a better job with lego bricks.”

Rowan giggled at her side “then my turn came and the bastard had the guts to tell me that the aerodynamics of my plane were off and that my ailerons where wrong as well and would not allow the plane to function properly. I took my laptop and shoved it in his face and told him to find the error in my math. He had no clue.” Her face turned smug “then the teacher took over and said that actually my project was, among all, the only one that could actually fly. I felt smug as fuck.”

Rowan pulled an arm around Aelin’s shoulder and pulled her to him. He was proud of her. Every damn day.

“Then after class, he threw me a paper plane and inside it had a message saying this is the only plane you will ever build or work on. I swear, the guy is still alive only because I am not looking forward to finishing my degree via distance learning from a prison.”

She calmed down “how was your day?”

Rowan leaned back against the tree “I had anatomy and physiology. Today we covered the endocrine system and it must be one most boring of them all.”

“Well,” she added with a big smile “when you cover the reproductive system you are welcome to practice with me…”

He laughed and squished her to her chest “I am a very big fan of your… bits.” She kissed him deeply not caring that they were in public, she wanted him and hated that they had more classes before being able to go home and then alas, study more. Maybe for one evening they could study something different.

“Aelin?”

“Yes, buzzard?”

His tongue gently teased her and she opened for him while his hand brushed off a rebel strand of hair.

He pulled back “Nothing, you had tomato sauce on you lips. I was just wiping it off. Did you think I wanted to kiss you?” 

Aelin gently punched him on the shoulder, in return he gave her a massive grin. Rowan was a very reserved man who struggled with stranger, but she had her own version, the goofy one, the one who made jokes and loved to cuddle with her. She would treasure that version forever. That was just for her.

They were busy chatting away and she was showing him on her laptop the exercise she had been working on and her plane prototype and although what she was saying was greek to him, he still listened to her in fascination.

She was telling him how a plane flew and the four forces when a figure stopped in front of them.

“It must be exciting to brag with your boyfriend about your hopeless projects.” Said the man.

Rowan raised his eyes and finally saw the face of the man that had been making Aelin’s life miserable.

“What did you just say?” Rowan stood and towered on the brown-haired man by twenty centimetres. Chaol also looked frail compared to Rowan’s muscular frame.

“Chaol, you’d better go.” Not that she cared about the man, she just didn’t want Rowan to get into trouble for a petty man.

“You’d better give up while you still can, Galathynius. Aeronautical engineering is not a field for a woman.” He crossed his arms at his chest trying to look intimidating but the look in Rowan’s eyes told her it was a useless attempt. Her boyfriend was ready to attack. She knew he had never hit anyone, but had a feeling that if Chaol didn’t stop it could be a first for Rowan.

“Chaol,” she stood as well and growled his name in warning.

“Oh, so you are one of those arseholes who believes that certain jobs can be done only by those who were born with a penis. It’s the fucking 21st century. Grow up, idiot.”

Rowan swore, alarm bells rang in Aelin’s head. He only swore when he was extremely mad, something that her unflappable boyfriend rarely was.

“Oh look, Galathynius, you have a knight in shining armour.”

Aelin moved between Rowan and Chaol, trying to separate them when her boyfriend moved a step closer to the other guy.

Chaol chuckled “Did you sleep with every professor—” but Chaol never finished his sentence. She saw the scene develop in slow motion in front of her. At those words Rowan’s face had turned feral and as on instinct his arm moved and a second later his fist found its target in Chaol’s face. 

Rowan then grabbed Chaol by the collar and lifted him up slightly “You take it back, immediately or I’ll smash all the twenty two bones in your skull.”

“Go on,” said Chaol, nursing a broken lips.

Aelin stopped in between and grasped Rowan’s hand gently “Put him down, Ro, he is not worth it.”

Her gaze then turned to Chaol “now you go back to whatever shithole you came from and perhaps go back working on your project and design a real aircraft.” She moved closer to him “I know what the fuck I am doing. And I know I will have a job in the airforce after this. You will just go back being daddy’s little spoiled boy.”

Chaol glared at her and Rowan finally let go of him, bur before he fully released him he pulled the man close enough that his mouth was near his ear “you disrespect her like that one more time and you’ll finish your degree from a hospital bed while sipping your food from a straw.” Rowan flashed his teeth in a threatening gesture “you leave her alone, because if I hear you have been a bastard to her one more time, I will make your life a living hell.” And eventually released him. Chaol shrugged his t-shirt back into place and walked away without adding another word.

Rowan sighed and then turned to her, his expression back being soft as soon as she looked back at him.

“You didn’t have to punch him,” she said while snuggling against his chest. His arms quickly around her.

“Yes I had to. What he said….” She felt him tense up again “he made me so mad, fireheart.”

“Seeing you thump him was very sexy,” she kissed him gently on the lips “my knight in shining armour.”

Rowan chuckled and looked into he blue eyes “you don’t need a knight. You are fierce, brave and strong and do not need any protection,” he added, his lips on her head. Nesting under his chin was her favourite position. They fit perfectly “I, on the other hand, as a male who is hopelessly in love with you, felt the desperate need to avenge the sullied honour of my amazing other half.”

Aelin giggled hard “you really sound like a knight.”

“Come on, Sir Rowan Whitethorn of Wendlyn, let’s finish our lunch, I have an hour of mechanics of flight coming up and I need sustenance.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said kneeling in front of her.

Aelin laughed and kissed him deeply “maybe I can be your queen tonight in bed as well.”

His smirk grew wider and Aelin felt heat pool at her core at his expression.

“Whatever m’lady commands.”

They finished their lunch in peace without any more interruptions and eventually they parted ways, going to their respective classes.

Chaol did not bothered her anymore. He didn’t even met her gaze and him ignoring her was all she asked. She was there to learn, he could just go and sulk in the afterburner of a jet, perhaps while on, for all she cared.

Aelin texted Rowan a thank you and his reply was a simple To whatever end.

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

✾T.I- You Deserve It ☼✶

Master list

Words: 2388

Warnings/kinks: pegging, use of sex toys, blowjob, handjob, restraints, praise

Pairing: Iida Tenya x Reader

:: I’m editing and posting on mobile, so sorry if the format is messed ::

@yatransmanz

==NSFW under the cut==

You loved getting on his nerves, and you didn't need to do too much to set him on-edge. In fact, Tenya hasn't even realized that you were flustering him on purpose. He was getting all worked up over your feather light touches and innocent calls of his name. You did slow it down a bit after training— Tenya had broken one of his pipes, and was limping back from the nurses office.

"Hey lovely," he huffed, hopping on one foot towards you.

"Hey baby," you replied, getting up from the common room couch to help him.

You took Tenya's crutch from him, and gently sat him down. You cuddled into him, and he nuzzled his head on yours. Your hand laid on his thigh, gently swirling your fingertips. A content sigh left Tenya's lips, but you knew that was a front. He had been hard on-and-off all day because of you, and now that you two were this close, he couldn't help but get hard again.

"C-can we cuddle in one of our rooms instead? I-it's disrespectful to the other students' free time," your boyfriend muttered, his glasses fogging.

"Of course, Tenya-chan~" you dragged, helping him up again. Your room was the closest, so you headed there.

"But um, I was wondering, I-if after cuddling, we could— um," Tenya struggled. He always had a difficult time initiating sexual intimacy.

"If we could fuck?" You smiled cheekily at his flushed cheeks.

"W-well, I mean, I won't be at peak performance because of my injury, b-but essentially, yes," Tenya's heart was in his throat, he hated asking for you to take care of him, and this was the best at hinting he could get.

"Don't worry baby," you cooed, "I'll look after you. You've been working so hard, and you deserve it."

"Thank you, y/n," he whispered, glad that you caught his silent plea.

You told Tenya to wait for you on the bed as you locked the door and grabbed your lube. He gulped as he watched you pick out a bullet vibrator, wondering if you would use that on him or on yourself. He started to take off his tie as you walked over.

"Here, let me do it," you offered, sitting on his lap. Your nimble fingers slipped the knot down, and you lifted the fabric over his head. His head buzzed once you carefully undid the buttons on his white shirt, "you've been working so hard lately, Tenya~"

He couldn't help the buck of his hips, and he apologized profusely for being so impatient. You accepted his apology with a quick kiss to his lips, and went back to pulling off his shirt. Once it was on the floor, you ran the palms of your hands down his torso, making sure to graze his nipples.

"You're so strong Tenya~ So much muscle~" you praised, outlining his abs with your finger. He squirmed in his seat, desperately trying not to buck up with his hips.

"Oh—" Tenya moaned once you got to his pants, embarrassed by how hard he was.

"I think you've been needing this, hmm?" You purred, softly cupping his budge. He threw his head back with another moan, and looked back down to you.

"Y-yes," he breathed, holding the sheets beneath him in a death-grip.

You deliberately pulled his zipper, enjoying how flustered he was. After you popped his button through the hole, you ran your hands up his chest again, letting your palms sit on his pecks for a moment before going back down to his belt. Tenya was practically urging you to hurry up with how staggered his breathing was.

You dragged the belt out of the pant loops, and gently set it beside his shirt and tie on the floor. Tenya's cock was staining his boxers with pre-cum, and you could see the delicious outline of his bulge twitching. What a needy boy. You grabbed the waistband of his slacks and leniently shimmied them down his legs, carefully avoiding his injured engine. You heard Tenya let out a sigh, and you looked up to smile at him.

"Give me a kiss," you said lowly, grasping his knees as leverage. You were on his lap again, lips attached to his. You loved the way he gently held your waist, not wanting you to leave, but also not wanting to hurt you. You let your tongue roll on Tenya's bottom lip, and he let you in. You sucked on his pink muscle, eliciting a groan from him.

When you pulled away his glasses were much foggier than before, so you pulled them off and wiped them clean with your shirt. Speaking of, you pulled your shirt over your head and let it fall. You fell back to the floor, spreading Tenya's knees apart so you could get closer. You kissed his cock through the fabric of his boxers, licking your way up before teething his waistband, gripping it with your hands and pulling them off, a gasp leaving Tenya's throat.

You pulled off your own pants, showcasing a pair of Tenya's favourite panties; light blue bikini with a little bow on the front, matching your bra. You sunk back onto your knees and scooted closer so you could get a good grip.

"So hard for me, baby~ leaking all this cum~" you teased, lightly rubbing a finger over the head of his cock. Tenya nodded lazily, wishing for you to really touch him.

"S-shit," he gasped once you gripped the base, playing with his tip using your other hand. His fingers were itching to run through your hair, but he didn't want to change your mind about pleasing him.

"So much self control, Tenya~ I bet you're wanting more?" You said softly.

"Y-yes, please," he squirmed, desperate for your mouth.

"Such good asking. Tell me what you want, baby," you instructed, loosely training a finger around the head of his dick.

"P-please," Tenya whimpered, "your mouth, please."

"Mmm, look at you asking so nicely, baby. You deserve to have my mouth around your cock~" you praised, ghosting your tongue along the bottom vein of his shaft.

The groan that Tenya let out was magical once your wet tongue lapped at his head. You gingerly sucked on it, slowly inching down to the base.

"Thank you," Tenya said in a barely audible whisper.

Your tongue played with him a little longer before you indulged yourself with his length, letting your throat gulp around him. You grasped one of his clenched hands and guided it to your head, giving him permission to lead your movements.

"Oh fuck~" Tenya groaned harshly, gently pulling at your hair.

"Close already, baby?" You pulled away for a second, recognizing his tell signs.

"S-so close," he whimpered, "it's embarrassing—"

"Nonsense, Ten," you cooed, continuing to jerk him. "We have plenty of time."

Warmth filled Tenya's chest; he loved being overstimulated, and how much you praised him on how good he was. How strong he was for being able to withstand the sensation.

"You don't have to ask to cum tonight, baby. Just tell me when you're close," you reassured, softly kissing the head of his cock.

"—close!" He yelled, holding the sides of your head.

You hummed as you bobbed your head, making sure to lick the underside vein. You carefully massaged Tenya's balls, cupping them lovingly. You sucked intently on his tip, tonguing his sensitive spot. You reached your other hand downwards, and found his uninjured engine. You fiddled a little bit before slowly circling a finger around one pipe.

"Shit," Tenya choked, throwing off his glasses and wiping his sweaty hair out of his face.

"Mmm so good baby," you moaned on his cock; "want your cum so bad. Please."

That sent him over the edge, and he gripped your hair like reins, pushing you down until all of him fit in your mouth. You sputtered a little, his semen going down your throat. You squeezed your throat, milking out the rest of his orgasm.

"S-sorry if I hurt you," Tenya said, gently pulling your mouth off of him.

"Not at all, baby. You taste so good," you showed him the cum you didn't swallow on your tongue, and made a show of gulping it down. Tenya's dick twitched at the sight, refusing to go flaccid just yet.

You picked up the lube and slowly applied it to his cock, rubbing his head with extra care because you wanted to hear his sweet cries. The sloppy sound of you pumping his cock made him harder, and he began to slightly thrust upwards. You took your bullet vibe, and turned it on to the lowest setting.

"You're so good, Tenya. So patient waiting for your reward," you lauded, teasingly placing the vibe on the very base of his cock. You grinned encouragingly at your boyfriend, watching him loose his grip on reality, "you work so hard, you need to be cared for now, hmm?"

Tenya nodded weakly, uttering nonsense beneath his breath, "please, more."

"Just because you asked so nicely," you turned the vibration up a level, and you slowly dragged it up his shaft. The tip of his cock was so full of blood that it was almost purple, and when the vibrator touched the very tip he nearly cried out.

"Sensitive, aren't you, baby?" You taunted, switching up another notch.

"Ahhh~" Tenya yelled, arching his back and nearly shutting his legs, "very."

You gripped the base of his cock, continuously rubbing his head with the vibrator. You could tell he was trying really hard not to squirm and whither away, "do you want the restraints, Tenya?"

"Please. I-I can't stay still for much longer," he gasped, laying his forearms behind him.

You gave him the bullet, allowing him to tease himself while you got the silk ropes. You flaunted them in your hands, and sat on his lap, "lay down, baby. Let me do all the work. You've been so good~"

Tenya let his back touch the mattress, and spread out his arms to await the soft rope.

"Mm-mm, baby," you shook your head, "ass up."

Tenya rolled over and stuffed his face into a pillow, folding his arms behind his back. He felt your warm fingers gently tie the fabric around his wrists, shuddering at the excitement building in him.

"How does that feel?" You asked, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"G-good," Tenya sighed.

You raked your hands gently from his waist, down to his hips, giving his ass a firm squeeze. You took the vibrator that was still in his hands and pressed the side against Tenya's puckered hole. You slid a plump pillow under his stomach to help him stay up.

"I'm gonna strap the bullet on your cock, ok baby? It's gonna be on the lowest setting," you warned, slipping the cockring attachment on the silver vibe.

"Yes please," Tenya moaned, gripping his restraints.

You flicked open the cap of the lube, and squirted a small dollop on your fingers. You reached down and gently pumped his length and attached the vibe on the underside of his dick. You grinned at the noises Tenya was making. So cute. You collected some more lube on your forefinger and traced his tight hole, teasing it open.

"Feels good," Tenya muttered, arching his back a bit more.

You carefully slipped in your finger, massaging his walls thoroughly. You felt him squeeze around you before relaxing some more. More lube was applied, and you slipped in a second finger. You poked around until you found his prostate, teasingly rubbing it with your fingers.

"Oh~" Tenya whimpered, bucking his hips.

"I bet that feels good, baby. Your body is so vulnerable for me, ready to be taken care of and rewarded~" you extolled, beginning to scissor, and twist your fingers.

Tenya didn't even realize that you had the blue strap-on buckled around your hips until he felt the cool tip on his puckering hole.

"Please," he encouraged, craving the feeling of being filled.

"Here we go, Ten," you murmured, slowly pushing your way into his ass until you bottomed out, "you're taking it so well."

All Tenya did was moan in reply, relishing the vibration on his cock, and the strap filling him so good. He swayed forwards and back, trying to match your slow thrusts. You could tell he was getting impatient, so you started to go a little harder.

"Feel good, baby?" You asked, grabbing his thighs for leverage.

"Hhuuggh," he griped, "yes, oh shit yes!"

You continued to pound into him, admiring the way the plastic dildo stretched his hole. Tenya's cock continuously slid against the pillow underneath him from your pace. He was in heaven, and he was so grateful that you could make him feel like this.

"You're shaking, baby. Do you need a break?" You asked, slowing your movements.

"No! Oh fuck I'm so close," Tenya cried, desperately rutting his hips.

You gripped onto his restrained wrists, and propelled into him harder. You could just see how Tenya's face contorted in pleasure, strings of saliva gathering in his mouth. You used one of your hands to reach down and stroke the head of his cock in tune with your thrusts.

"C-cum," he whined, "m' gonna cum."

"Cum for me, baby," you moaned with him, "you work so hard; you deserve it."

"Gghg," Tenya choked, and you felt his cum on your fingers. You turned off the bullet vibrator and continued to pump into him. You only stopped when you heard a muffled, "too much."

"Oh fuck, you're such a good boy," you applauded, slowly pulling out of him. You carefully removed the bullet from Tenya's cock, and slowly untied his silk binds.

Tenya flipped onto his back, holding the spoiled pillow case out to you. You took it and threw it into your laundry basket. You used a tissue to wipe away most of the lube-cum combo, and set a kiss on your boyfriend's forehead.

"Thanks love," Tenya grinned, sliding an arm around your waist.

"Of course, baby. I love you," you smiled at him, gazing into his eyes.

"Bath?" He suggested, kissing your cheek.

"Definitely."

[andypantsx3]

conspire | 2 | first date

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

The next morning, your classmates wouldn’t shut up about it.

The rumor of your rendezvous with Shouto had spread like wildfire through the school, and you were assaulted by a wave of questions the second you turned up to modern lit. “Is it true?”, “Is he your boyfriend?”, “How do you know him?”, “Is he a good kisser?”, all blended into a cacophony of sound that nearly bowled you over as you stepped through the door.

You felt your face grow hot under their scrutiny and quickly stuffed yourself into your desk. “Yes, we’re dating. No, I won’t answer other questions about it.”

“Come on,” Miko--the girl in the desk closest to you--begged. “You’re dating Shouto Todoroki, the cutest boy in school, and you won’t even tell us how you know him?”

You wracked your brain for something close to the truth. “We, um, got along really well on that support item project last month. It’s nothing special.”

Miko’s mouth opened to fire off another question, but Mr. Cementoss cut her off with his arrival, launching immediately into his lesson plan. You sent up a silent thank you to whichever patron saint of fake dating had been listening.

The rest of the school day passed much the same way, and you wondered several times if the price of your senior project was perhaps too high.

You’d known that Shouto was something of a celebrity due to his parentage, supreme good looks, and incredible power--even outside the walls of UA--but you hadn’t really thought through how that would affect the people who stood closest to him. Knowing what celebrity looked like and actually experiencing it for yourself were two very different things, you found. You’d never been subjected to attention like this before and you weren’t sure that you liked it.

By the time Saturday rolled around, you’d started to wonder if you shouldn’t just call this whole thing off.

The sight of him that morning, however, immediately robbed you of your resolve.

He’d asked you to meet in front of your dorm mid-morning, and he showed up looking unfairly handsome in well-fitted jeans, a grey scarf, and a dark jacket with a high collar that framed his sharp jaw. He looked good, way too good for this early in the morning. You felt a shiver go through you, and not just because of the cold.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted you, the corner of his mouth curling. He gestured with something in his hands and you found your eyes drawn to two takeout coffee cups from the cafe just outside the school gates.

Okay, he was a literal angel and forgiven for everything you had been through this week.

“I didn’t know how you liked yours, so I got all the extras,” he said, handing a cup over to you and turning out a pocket to unveil a mound of sugar packets and tiny creamer containers.

You smiled, feeling warm. “Thanks, Shouto. Pretty sure every support engineer has bypassed the need for modifications at this point and just mainlines straight from the coffee pot. Black is perfect.”

He grinned down at you. “Too many late nights?”

You groaned at the tidal wave of memories. “Support items should just build themselves.”

He laughed and gestured you to follow him, leading you out of school grounds and to the nearby train station.

“Where are we going?” you wondered as he ushered you onto the train. He herded you into a corner and stationed himself in front of you, one arm extended to hold the bar over your head. You wondered if it was something like a natural instinct at this point for hero students to assume a protective position, as Shouto’s choice had the effect of shielding you from the rest of the train car.

“I...asked around about you,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed. “I’ve been told that your interest in quirks and support items doesn’t just end at the classroom door.”

You flushed. You were kind of a nerd, he had your number.

“I’m taking you somewhere I think you might like,” he said. He took a sip of his own coffee, varicolored eyes glinting down at you over the rim of his cup.

You nursed your own coffee as the train rolled into the city, resisting the urge to close your eyes and lean into him. It was something you might do with an actual boyfriend, and as cute as it was that he was taking you out on a real life fake date, you didn’t think he would appreciate you putting the moves on him.

He led you out of the train at the city center and down a few blocks, finally pulling you into a building with a very modern glass facade. You recognized it at once.

“The Support Museum!” you chirped happily, your interest picking up. They had an interactive exhibit going on right now that you and some classmates had talked about coming to see. Your fingers suddenly itched with the need to test out some of the items.

Shouto looked at you from the corner of his eye, a flash of curious blue. “This is okay?”

“Hell yeah,” you intoned, picking up the pace to get in front of him. “If you’re cool with being bored to death for the next six hours while I have a great time, then this is perfect.”

He gave you a dry look. “I care about support items.”

You scoffed. “You have like, one.”

A slow smirk overtook his features. “Maybe you could convince me to add more.”

Something hot flashed through you and you gave yourself a hard pinch through the fabric of your jeans. His tone seemed laced with insinuation, but you knew better than to buy into it. It was just hard when he was looking at you the way he was.

Damn him for having a face like that.

“Careful,” you said, trying to reroute your brain, “you’re signing yourself up for a whole lot of wild rambling and weird tangents.”

That soft smile pulled at the edge of his mouth again. “I’m used to it. Midoriya, my best friend, is a lot like that.”

You’d been in the room with Izuku Midoriya before and didn’t doubt it. The boy could certainly give you a run for your money. If he wasn’t equipped with the wildest quirk you’d ever seen, he would have made one hell of a support engineer -- you were probably lucky you didn’t have to compete for grades with a mind like that.

“Treat me like white noise,” you said as he shouldered past you to pay for tickets.

You let out a noise of protest when you noticed what he was doing, but he pressed you back from the ticket counter with a strong arm you couldn’t get around. It seemed only too easy for him to hold you off and pay for tickets at the same time, and it was slightly offensive. Maybe you needed to put in more time in the support course gym.

“I asked you out,” he said by way of explanation after you complained all the way through coat check, only shutting up when you were distracted by the sight of him in a soft tee shirt and blue button up. “I should pay.”

You made a dismissive noise. “It’s not the nineteen thirties anymore, dude. I can pay for my own stuff.”

He turned to you with a wry look. “Are we fighting about money already? Not something I’d thought we’d get to at this stage, to be honest.”

You laughed. “Our first fight as a couple.”

He pinned you with an interested look, something in his gaze growing hot. “Should we kiss and make up?”

Your face instantly went up in flames, like he’d lit you up with his quirk. Jesus Christ, he was a teaser? You’d thought he was just the quiet and thoughtful type -- who knew that he hid an ironic sense of humor underneath all that? This was going to be bad for your health.

“Cute,” you quipped for something to say, marching in front of him quickly so he couldn’t see your face. “Uh, where to first?”

He let you lead the way around the museum, and in minutes you’d pretty much calmed down from the heat of the moment, distracted by the halls filled with the forefront of quirk theory and the corresponding support equipment.

As someone who’d been born without a quirk of their own, the concept had always been fascinating to you, leading you into the support track at UA in your efforts to study quirks and their applications. It was incredible how genetics determined which people had none, and whose ranged from benign improvements like seeing slightly better through fog to more deadly power that roiled just beneath the surface of one’s skin like Shouto.

The deviations in power manifestation stretched the genetics of each human further from one another than they had ever gone before -- sometimes by a full 0.1-0.2% of their DNA structure -- and it was crazy cool. While your speciality was more applied science, you couldn’t deny the biology of it was equally as interesting.

At the rate it was going, people like you could share more genetic similarity with a banana at some point than someone like Shouto. Well, after a couple more millennia of evolution.

Shouto chuckled and you realized with some alarm that you had been babbling all of that out loud.

“Should I be concerned that our children might come out as bananas?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You gave him a sour look. “You know that’s not how it works.”

He flashed you a cheeky grin and followed you easily as you led the way through the other exhibits.

He listened attentively as you oohed and ahhed over the different displays, asking very pointed follow up questions like he was actually interested in what you had to say. You fell into a very involved discussion about most of the displays, and you realized with some surprise that plenty of time had passed without you realizing it, and that you were having an incredibly good time.

Shouto paid for lunch at the museum cafe as well, affecting hearing loss over the sounds of your protests, and kept up the easy conversation all the way through the meal.

After lunch, you two queued up for the interactive exhibit that you’d initially wanted to see, eventually being let into the exhibit hall in a small group. You immediately lit up like a kid on Christmas.

The hall was studded with actual support items that had been developed for the top twenty heros, ranging from real costume pieces that had been retired to replicas of items currently in use, supplied by the same companies as had built them. The items were free for testing with the caveat that the user had to be careful.

You spent a fair amount of time over pieces of Edgeshot’s costume that had been made from strands of his own hair, allowing it to fold and reshape with the changes to his body, and more time over Ryukyu’s size-changing suit that mechanically adapted to her dragon form.

Shouto stopped over a flame-resistant gauntlet from his father’s previous costume.

“Think you can melt it?” you asked with interest. You wondered how fast they’d eject you from the museum if he succeeded.

Shouto shook his head. “My flames are hot but I doubt it.”

You perked up. “How hot?”

“I haven’t actually measured,” he admitted and you groaned.

“Your super cool quirk is totally wasted on you,” you said. “You have to let me do tests.”

His mouth twitched again. “What kind of tests?”

“Anything you’ll let me,” you said. “Temperature gauges, cryogenic structure analysis, body scans when you use both energy sources. I have my theories as to how your quirk is actually scientifically possible but I need more data.”

“Body scans, huh?” he asked.

Of course he’d seized on that one. God, he was such a boy.

“Yes. We’ll get you all strapped up in wires and those little sticky nodules. It’ll be super sexy, trust me.”

He chuckled, and set a hand to one of his father’s boots that was also on display. “Fine, but later. Want to test this out now?”

You leaned in, nodding, and he let a flame grow in his hand, pressing it to the fabric of the boot. The cloth activated instantly, channeling the flame across the surface of the boot in the customary style of Endeavor’s flaming costume.

“Fuck, that’s so cool,” you breathed, leaning over to read the description of how it worked. “You need something just as obnoxiously showy on your costume. You’re letting your own dad upstage you.”

He laughed again and let the flame die down.

You wandered companionably through the rest of the exhibit, thrilled when it ended in an arcade-like simulation of Wash’s quirk that let you rig up and shoot water around at various targets. Shouto immediately targeted you instead.

“You're supposed to be a hero,” you whined, whipping around to aim your water cannon at him in revenge. “How could you target a civilian like this?”

His hero training had clearly paid off, as he was too skilled at dodging to get caught up in any of your attacks. Your time was called without you able to catch him once, but you left the exhibit with your own shirt sticking wetly to your body. You tried not to wince, thinking of the wintry weather that would no doubt invade the confines of your jacket once you made it outside.

Shouto immediately pulled you to the side of the coat check, however, his eyes trailing down your shirt where it clung to you. You tried not to feel self conscious.

“Let me,” he said quietly, placing a hand against your shoulder. Searing warmth washed over your skin under his hand and you tried not to arch up into the pleasant heat. You stood incredibly still, hardly daring to breathe as he passed his hand lightly over your shirt, taking care not to touch you anywhere too scandalous, though some traitorous part of your mind almost wished he would. This close, you could catch the scent of some light cologne, minty and fresh, and the smell of it made your head spin.

It took just under a minute for him to fully dry out your shirt, each second passing like a small eternity.

You were able to gather your wits just enough to laugh about his bright future in steam cleaning as you tucked back into your coat, then followed him to the train back to campus.

It was nearly dark by the time he walked you back to your dorm, the sun dipping low to kiss the horizon, sunset orange fading into the deep blue of an evening sky. You realized that you’d spent all day with him and had hardly noted the time passing -- he was a very, very good date. Some girl in the months after graduation was going to find herself very lucky with him.

The dorm was quiet as you approached, which was unusual for a Saturday evening, and you realized with a growing sense of horror that your classmates must be waiting quietly, watching for your arrival from inside to see what he’d do. Shouto must have realized the same thing almost the same time that you did, as he stepped into your space at the doorway, catching the sleeve of your coat to pull you close to him.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, face dipping close to yours. His features were somehow even more symmetrical up close and it was overwhelming to look at. “I quite liked today, so I thought…”

Your heartbeat kicked up in your chest and the tips of your ears went hot as you panicked, tangling your own fingers in his dark jacket like a lifeline. “Y-yeah,” you answered. “This is g-great.”

He smirked, leaning in even closer to you. You held carefully still as you had in front of the coat check, all the nerves in your body straining with anticipation. Then a hot mouth pressed softly to yours, and every neuron in your brain misfired.

The next thing you registered, your arms were around his neck and he was pressing you gently up against the door, his tongue in your mouth and his large hands on your waist. You arched up into his touch, desperate to get closer, twining your fingers in his soft hair.

He gave a low groan and pressed you harder into the door, a hand coming up to cup your face as he did something absolutely criminal with his tongue. So much for his career as a hero.

A muffled shout came from within your dorm and you jerked apart, panting. Your face flamed in embarrassment.

“Wow,” you said dumbly, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Wow indeed,” he teased, stepping back from you.

You shook yourself as he did. Right, fake dating. The kiss had been hot but it was only for show--and the show had been successfully executed. You had to resist the urge to drag him back for another.

“I’ll text you?” you squeaked out and he agreed, looking weirdly satisfied as he bid you good night.

You watched him for a long moment as he trudged back down the path to campus, heart beating a frantic staccato in your chest.

Shouto Todoroki was the most dangerous boy alive and it finally dawned on you just what you had agreed to for the next few months. You were so absolutely fucked.

[theewritingroomm]

Fast Paced

Summary: Jax and Y/N have been pining after each other for years, and as friends neither have wanted to tell the other. But one fast paced night, one fast paced situation may have the possibility of changing that. Pairing: Jax Teller x Reader Word Count: 1,452 Warnings: mutual pining, swearing, guns, shooting, A/N: Text divider by: @firefly-graphics​ 

                                                             --- 

Jax was nursing a beer, the party raging on around him when she walked in. her black shorts barely covered her butt, her shirt (which Jax was convinced had been his at one point) was slipping down her shoulder revealing the strap of a red lacy bralette. She looked hot, Jax couldn’t deny it; but he could see the others in the clubhouse appreciating the outfit Y/N had chosen to wear. It caused a bit of jealousy to grow in the pit of his stomach. Jax kept an eye on Y/N as she moved throughout the clubhouse, his jealousy growing with each new set of eyes that watched her. Finally, he had had enough of watching when Tig crowded her around the pool table.

Jax took one last swig from his beer before he was moving away from the bar and towards the pool tables.

“Hey man,” Jax bit out towards Tig as he placed a hand on Tig’s shoulder. “Don’t ya’ have a croweater to be entertaining?”

Tig looked at the blonde man, his mouth open like he was going to respond. But Tig stopped when he noticed the intense look in Jax’s blue eyes. He’d seen it before, when Jax was a teenager and someone would make a remark towards Tara. Tig also remembers the having to patch up Jax’s knuckles after those incidents. So in an attempt to stay out of the ring Tig walked away, going to find someone else to hit on.

Once Tig was out of earshot Y/N turned to Jax and smacked him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. Jax let out a surprised yelp before looking down at her.

“What the hell was that for?” he asked, a smirk creeping onto his lips the longer he looked at Y/N.

“For running Tig off,” she replied simply, “He’s harmless.”

Jax shook his head with a smile on his face, “If you wanna believe that.”

It was Y/N’s turn to shake her head at her best friend. “He’s just being friend Jax.”

Jax scoffed, picking up a pool stick. “Tig is never just being friendly.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend, simply thinking that he was being overprotective as always. But frankly Y/N was getting tired of it. She was never going to get the chance to get over this silly crush of hers if Jax was going to run off every man that gave her the time of day. She was certain Jax only did it because he didn’t want to see her hurt, but it hurt her more to see Jax go home with a new girl after every party.

“Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to pick up a stick?” Jax teased, a slight twinkle in his blue eyes.

As the night went on the SAMCRO party dies down but Jax and Y/N didn’t leave. The pair didn’t leave the pool table until they were the only two left with the ability to stand.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since we’ve had a night like this.” Y/N said as Jax sunk the eight-ball.

“And whose fault id that Ms. College graduate?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled, “I’m sorry that I’m not as wild as I used to be.”

Jax laughed, a full bellied, eye crinkling laugh, “I’m sure Hale would disagree. He’s still pissed about New Year’s.”

“That’s his own damn fault,” Y/N argued, laying her pool stick down, “He should’ve listened to you and Opie.”

As she turned back around to face Jax she caught him staring, the look in his eyes almost unrecognizable. She couldn’t tell if it was because she was the only one there or if she was simply seeing things, but it still made Y/N’s hear flip.

“Jax,” she started, making the man look her in the eye.

Once her e/c eyes connected with his she could feel the tension shift. She was very aware of how his eyes wandered down to her cleavage, and the way he licked his lips. She was also very aware of how much she wished he would close the space between them and kiss her.

Y/N was sure that he would have, if Tig hadn’t come stumbling out of his dorm room.

“You wanna get out of here?” Jax asked, a slight gravel in his voice that matched the look in his eyes.

Y/N simply nodded, not trusting her own voice. But that was all Jax needed to grab her by the hand and pull her out of the club house and onto his bike.

The two were driving through Charming, heading to Y/N’s house when they heard another bike’s engine coming up behind them. Y/N knew that it wasn’t a Son as a majority of them were still passed out at the clubhouse. So both her and Jax sneaked a quick glance behind them, trying to see who it was. They quickly realized that it was a rival MC member when they were looking down the barrel of his pistol.

“Jax he’s got a—” Y/N began.

“I know.” He cut her off, turning his bike sharply to the left down the first side road that he could. The man behind them turned shortly after, causing Jax to let out a string of swears under his breath. Y/N didn’t dare move from her spot tucked tightly against Jax as he maneuvered the bike to avoid the bullets coming at them. But Y/N felt useless. That was until Jax took another sharp turn and Y/N felt the handle of Jax’s gun press into her thigh.

Y/N pulled the side of Jax’s shirt up just enough to reveal the handle to her. Y/N wrapped her fingers around the handle, pulling it from his waistband and flipping the safety off as she pointed the gun behind them. She wrapped her pointer finger around the trigger, squeezing it to fire off one shot. She knew she has missed when the man behind them didn’t react. So she fired off two more. The first one missed, but the second one hit the man in the shoulder, sending both the man and his bike to the pavement.

Turning into Y/N’s driveway Jax barely had time to cut the engine before Y/N was jumping off the back to open her garage door.

“Pull it in here.” Y/N instructed as she keyed in the code to open the garage door. Allowing Jax to push his bike in.

“Who the fuck was that?” Y/N asked, turning towards Jax as the garage door closed behind him.

“Mayan if I had to guess,” He replied, running a hand through his hair. “but that was quick thinking back there.”

“Just barely.” She said.

“Nah, you had it. Most women that ride with me wouldn’t have handled a gun like that.”

“Speaking of,” Y/N laughed, holding the handle out for Jax to take. “This belongs to you.”

Jax laughed as he took it from her hand.

The next afternoon Jax was waiting outside of Abel’s elementary school, waiting to pick up his son, and waiting for the chance to see Y/N for a moment. His mind was still reeling from the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N and how attractive she has looked holding her own. It made him proud in a sense, knowing how strong she was. It is also what made him so attracted to her.

But Jax was ripped from his thoughts when the final bell rang, and students came pouring out of the building. Jax watched the older children run to their parents and to the busses that would take them home. A moment later the younger students were led to the doors by their teachers, grabbing his full attention. He watched her stop just outside the door and crouch down to the children’s level. She smiled as she held her hand out for a high five from each of the students as the kids walked out to meet their parents. Jax watched Abel give her the hardest high-five the little boy could before running out to his father.         

“Daddy,” the young boy exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around Jax’s legs.

“Did you have a good day at school?” Jax asked as he grabbed his son’s hand.

“Oh yeah, Ms. L/N is the coolest!”

“Yeah she is” Jax agreed, sneaking a look back to Y/N who was still standing in the doorway, talking to another teacher.

Y/N noticed him staring at her, causing a blush to heat up her cheeks. But she didn’t look away. Instead she sent him a wink, watching his face split into a smile as she did so.

[demoutd2511]

Engineering Research Presentations

Of all the events at the Research and Innovation Week Conference, I attended the Undergraduate Student Conference Oral Presentations - Session 3. The hour-long session was composed of 4 presentations and was focused on Engineering projects.

The first presentation was about the structure of a two-story building and how it handles different loads. In their research, the loads they considered included snow, wind, and crane load. Wind is one of the only horizontal loads they had to consider. Wind also is a large factor for all buildings, not just tall buildings like the CN tower or the ATAC. They explain how all these different loads would affect the building they were designing. They used something called Etabs to create their design.

The second presentation started with statistics about car-bridge collisions and the fatality rates. Their project was about designing bridge support that would not collapse if it was hit by a car or truck. They explained their research process and all the factors they had to consider. One cool thing they shared was how the car creates vibrations after hitting the supports, similar to earthquakes, and that is what causes all the damage. They also explained the method and systems they used in their design and process. I think this was a good idea, as many people watching might not have known what they were talking about.

The third presentation was on the Slope Stability of the Nipigon River. They started their presentation by defining what a landslide is and then talked about the landslide that occurred along the Nipigon River in the 1990s. They explained the possible causes for that landslide and provided recommendations for each. They think if there had been a Cantilever Retaining Wall that that landslide would haven't occurred. For their project, they designed a retaining wall and picked a good spot farther up the river to place it.

The fourth and final presentation was about a sensor system that could detect when someone had fallen or had a fever. I knew one of the speakers in this presentation; Chris Silver is another RA. Their sensor is located in a room, such as a hospital or nursing home room, or something similar to that size; they programmed the sensor for a room around that size.

One challenge they had to overcome was the technology they were using. Their sensor would send the data to a PSW or nurse, but there was a time delay; so, they are hoping with a better sensor they could get real-time data to help the fallen people faster. They also think with a better sensor, they could program it to ID faces, which would provide better fever readings, along with not signaling on a warm cup of tea, for example. They also showed a video where they demonstrated how their current sensor works and the information the PSWs and nurses would be emailed.

The four projects I saw and learned about were very interesting, but very confusing at points, as I don’t know a lot about engineering. I think all the groups had amazing ideas, designs, and clearly showed their research methods and the time they put into their projects.

References:

LU Engineering Students (2022). Undergraduate Student Conference Oral Presentations - Session 3. Presentation, Lakehead University Research and Innovation Week.

[ourimpavidheroine]

I’ve gotta say, I’m really enjoying these stories. Also, your late father sounds like an amazing man. I can really see the inspiration for LoLo come out in your mentions of him.

When my mother got pregnant with me - a planned pregnancy, they were young when they married but I was born 16 months later - my father knew from the get-go that he wanted a girl.

This was (and, I am sad to say, still is) an unusual thing for a father to wish for. Most fathers wish for a son. My Dad, however, was raised by a drunken, abusive, narcissistic man and he was afraid that if he had a son he’d just turn into his father. He thought a daughter would help him break that cycle of abuse. 

When I was born he told the nurse who brought me out to him in the waiting room that I was an angel, and Angel was the nickname that he alone called me.

He and I were very, very close, something that made my mother and younger brother jealous. (I didn’t really see or understand that until after he died when I was 26.)  There was nothing whatsoever or remotely sexual about it, which is what people usually assume when a father and daughter are very close. As my girlhood best friend said to me a few months ago, my father thought the sun rose and set on me, thought that I was his fairy princess. All of my odd, Autistic/ADHD weirdness was something he loved. I always knew he loved me not just despite my weirdness but because of it. (Something that my late wife did as well.)

My father was a brilliant man. He graduated high school at 15 and went into university to study architecture. Academically he handled it, but he was way too young to handle the social aspects as well as the responsibility of it and so he dropped out a year later. Things were apparently hellish with my grandfather and my Dad enlisted in the Army on his 18th birthday. This was 1965 and the US started sending soldiers to Vietnam. Not my Dad, though. He took some tests the military gave him and after boot camp spent his entire three years on a Nike missle base in the middle of Milwaukee, working on one of those huge old mainframe computers (you know, the kind with punch cards). I’m guessing they didn’t send the really smart ones off to be killed.

He taught himself how to be an architect through reading books at the library, including textbooks that he would sit and read at UC Berkeley’s library, even though he wasn’t a student there any longer. Then, after he had learned that, he read through engineering and physics textbooks. Then he read through every single book he could find that taught him how to actually build the structures he had learned to draw. He was completely self-taught, and the man not only designed and built complicated, Broadway-worthy theater sets he also designed and built houses from the ground up. He wanted to build a rock retaining wall at our house (which was located at the base of a hill and was on an incline) and so he went to the library and got a book about how Romans built walls and spent three years going to the local river to source variously-sized river rocks to build that retaining wall, which he did completely without any kind of mortar, just balancing the rocks perfectly. It’s still standing, 40 years later.

He always worked at very menial jobs - he was a line cook, a stocker in a supermarket produce department, an RV park manager, etc. He was terrible with money, didn’t understand it at all. We lived right on top of the poverty line. He had zero executive functioning and that caused a lot of problems for all of us and meant a lot of broken promises, too.

I am completely sure that like me, like both of his grandchildren, he had Autism and ADHD. Not diagnosed of course, they weren’t in those days, But he had them nevertheless.

He was a voracious reader and introduced me to sci fi and fantasy. On my eighth birthday he gave me his copies of The Lord of the Rings and had me read them. (This was 1977, trust me when I tell you those books were not a household name at that point.)  He’d wake me up at 3:30 am and we’d go fishing together, him with a thermos of black coffee, me with a bottle of orange juice and a box of Entenmann’s mixed donuts and we’d sit there in happy silence together, fishing and enjoying each other’s company. He was a wonderful storyteller and only once did he get angry with me. He never laid a hand on me or my brother but the one time he got angry with me he slapped me across the face and then the both of us cried.

He taught me many useful skills, like how to jimmy locks and how to walk through people unseen and how to learn on my own how to do things and how to make the world’s best pie. He always told me that I could absolutely anything I put my mind to. When I asked him once if that meant I could be a father - I was joking - he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I actually wanted to be a father. When I told him no he responded that he had said if I had put my mind to it, and he wasn’t vouching for anything I pulled when I didn’t care.

He also told me that I was the strongest person he’d ever met and when I scoffed at that he shook his head and said, “Angel, most people see you and they have no idea at all what’s inside of you and what you are capable of. There is nothing in this life you won’t overcome. Someday, when we’re both dead, you come find me and tell me I’m wrong.” (So far, he has not been wrong.)

He was a functioning drunk; he only drank after 8 at night, however. Just enough to make sure he’d not be hungover in the morning. He was a night person and all his life only needed about 4 hours of sleep to be completely rested.

He loved movies but he hated to go alone and usually took me. Not all of these movies were appropriate for kids my age but there it was. When I was eleven he took me with him to see The Elephant Man and I broke down completely, devastated and sobbing, horrified at how cruel people were to the lead character, just because he was different. After the movie we sat in the car and he held me until I was done crying and when I was all done he told me to never forget how the movie had made me feel and to remember that no matter how different people were from me they were all human and deserved kindness, compassion and understanding. This was a lesson I have tried very hard to live throughout my life. He took people at face value, and that included everyone. I don’t think he was particularly woke based on 2021 sentiments but he tried very hard to treat people equally and that included queer people during the AIDS crisis, too.

He was a feminist and believed women should be equal to men. He walked the walk, too: he cooked, he cleaned, he changed diapers, etc. And by that I mean he did them as par for the course, as part of his daily life. He did not rely on my mother’s emotional labor to remind him to do shit. He just did it because things needed doing and he was a grownass man, not a man-child. He did not consider caring for his children as babysitting, either.

He liked to sing. My mother and brother have opera-quality singing voices - for real, both of them are quite gifted - but his wasn’t like that, it was just a perfectly ordinary, passable baritone, just like mine is a perfectly ordinary, passable alto. He sang and he whistled when he was happy and I do the same. He used to make up funny little songs and rhymes on the spot, he had a gift for improvisation that way. I wish I had inherited that but alas! No.

Even when he was a boy all of the neighborhood kids would come to him with broken toys to be fixed. He quite genuinely liked kids and even teenagers and spent a lot of time working with the local high school drama department, building the sets, working as the stage manager and setting up and working the lights and soundboard (he taught himself to do that as well) and even directing some of the plays when the drama teacher was out on maternity leave. To this day I still get contacted by people who were in school with me or my brother who tell me what an influence my father was on them, the special things he did for them to make sure they knew he was paying attention and cared. One guy a couple of years ago contacted me on Facebook and told me that he got into some trouble after high school, even got imprisoned for a few months. My father visited him in prison and afterwards took him to AA with him, became his sponsor, helped keep on the straight and narrow. He named his oldest son after my father, in fact. I hear a lot of those stories.

He loved books and he loved music and he taught me to love those things as well. He fell in love with my mother when he was seventeen and married her five years later and came to regret it - like his father, his wife was an abusive, narcissistic person. He stayed with her, though, until my second year of university, when he abruptly walked out on her, went to AA and quit drinking. I asked him about it later; he told me that he had wanted to leave her for years but knew that if he did he’d never see me or my younger brother again. The courts in those days automatically gave kids to the mother and my mother was an accomplished liar and would have told the courts anything and they would have believed her. Once I was out of the house and secure, then he was done. (The fact that my brother was only fifteen and left to fend for himself with my mother was...not good. Not good at all. My father was not perfect and he was not a saint and that was a mistake that still has repercussions today.) He did not do enough to protect me from my mother while I was growing up, however. He regretted it, he told me later. I understand now that he was constantly walking a knife’s edge, trying to keep her satisfied enough so she wouldn’t try to take me away from him, but it took therapy long after he died for me to really understand that.

His special interest was model railroading and he built these amazing, intricate landscapes, all by hand and by scratch. The man took latex molds off the sides of rocks to build mountains with and built buildings out of tiny pieces of wood and such. I spent many hours with him as he built, listening to music and reading or just laying there, thinking my thinks, or sometimes chattering nonstop to him.

He called me, every single Friday night, right after the X-Files ended, right after the child’s voice said “I made this.” My phone would ring and we’d chat for hours, talking about the show (we both loved it) and whatever else. He lived about 5 hours away from me at the time and we did talk at other times during the week but that was our standard date. He died in the middle of Season 2 and to this very goddamn fucking day whenever I hear that “I made this” I wait for my phone to ring. And I cry every single time because he will never call me again.

I absolutely think that meeting my late wife via the X-Files was my father, watching out for me. When my twins were newborn and pretty much all I did 24x7 was breastfeed them I re-watched the entirety of X-Files on the DVDs I had and I’d talk to my father in my head, telling him about his grandchildren.

He’d always buy the new Stephen King books in hardcover and read them and then give them to me to keep. He especially loved the Dark Tower series but I haven’t finished the ones that were published after he died. I bought them myself but they are still sitting on my bookshelf, unread. I just can’t.

He died in the hospital after being in a coma for a week. The ICU nurses were very kind and showed me how I could turn off the life support machine if I wanted to and told me that I could be in there with him as long as I needed. They very considerately closed all of the curtains and closed the door to the room. I was alone with him in there and I turned off the machine and I held his hand and I sang to him as he died. I didn’t want him to be alone. 

He was right. I was strong enough to do that. It hurt, though. It still hurts.

He’s buried in California with a free military headstone because my comfortably upper middle class grandfather refused to shell out for a headstone and I was flat broke. Many years later I had a regular stone engraved with the words, “Go then, there are other worlds than these” and I placed it at our summer cottage here in Finland for him. I like to think that he and my late wife are keeping company. They never met here, but they would have liked each other very much, that I do know.

[eroticcannibal]

One of the worst additions to law in american history was the systematic banning of reading the law, which, basically ended self education as a way to become an expert. At the founding of our country, reading the law was a process by which, anyone that couldnt afford law school, could just study on their own and take the same exams that the law students got, with the only cost to them being the books, which, because they could be ANY law books, were much cheaper than modern textbooks, our PRESIDENTS were educated under this system, it was a sign of pride to teach yourself this! But people led a campaign rallying against it, making it so it only exists in a few states and.. noone seems to care, law school is a hellish environment where studwnts burn each others textbooks to get ahead because everyone fails their exams and who passes is determined by who failed the least compared to other students in the room. Its awful, and obviously there are WAY worse aspects of america, but I think this is like, one of the biggest attacks on our supposed values and kinda fits into your argument in favor of home education

Ok first off that is horrifying and second off what an EXCELLENT point. Certainly the restriction of recognition of education to only those that attend institutions is a detriment. Both systems of education have their pros and cons but neither is inherently unworthy of recognition. And this applies in so many areas. A smaller example being I have a fair bit of first aid knowledge by being raised by a nurse. I have zero qualifications tho. If someone is bleeding, does my lack of qualification matter when it comes to slowing that bleeding until an ambulance arrives? (Honestly I have been straight up criticised for carrying a first aid kit without being qualified despite carrying nothing that I was not confident using!)

Another example that comes to mind is those in less wealthy areas finding ways to build quite advanced technologies via only self education and the resources available. And u know full well no matter what those people achieve, they could never hold the position a qualified engineer could, even while demonstrating far more ingenuity and resourcefulness.

And specifically regarding law, their is the fact that restricting education in such a way greatly helps efforts to oppress. Kinda hard to fight your own corner if the state restricts your right to even understand your rights and the laws you live under while legal representation is out of the reach of many ppl financially.

[curewhimsy]

Symphony Saga World info dump

For a friend to read.

In Symphony Saga: Resonate, the main characters are all around the teenage years, and some OCs will show up as UTAU characters. For example, Reisei will be Reisei Kiyone. Rhona Aequor, who already has an UTAU voice, will be a character as well.

Ok so the Haku and Neru part starts out really jarring but I like stories where characters escape an awful life to find happiness. And this part symbolizes escaping turmoil and finding peace.

———

HAKU AND NERU’S STORY

December 1st.

Haku and Neru are two misunderstood, troubled 16-year-old students who meet at lunch. They both have autism and are ostracized for it. Haku shows Neru her stuffed kitten Snowbell, and they bond and talk about nice things.

There was pizza for lunch, but it ran out because the bullies pushed Haku and Neru to the end of the line. Haku and Neru had to eat nasty asparagus coleslaw casserole.

Everyone starts talking about Haku and Neru and teasing them.

Bullies start sticking Neru with needles during her walk to gym class.

In gym class, Neru can’t walk far because the lunch upset her stomach. During the 5-mile marathon outside that the boot camp teacher made the class do, Neru lags behind in the rain.

The rain turns into a thunderstorm while Neru is outside. The entire school loses electricity during this time. Meanwhile, Haku has a breakdown in math class because she thinks about her grandmother’s death, and has to go to the counselor’s office alone in the dark. And the school is big and even scarier in the dark. Haku then trips and falls down the stairs.

Neru ends her school day in the nurse’s office, and getting painful rubbing alcohol being put in where bullies sticked her with needles. The counselor’s office is nearby, and they see each other there.

Haku and Neru meet again after school, and decide to run away. Haku’s mother is always late home from work, and Haku’s dad is nowhere to be found. Haku’s mother is very neglectful and Haku is convinced her mother wouldn’t miss her. Meanwhile, Neru is an orphan and lives with her mean grandmother.

Haku and Neru pack away their important things and run away to the mall where they find a secret room with a magical mirror that transports them to the magical world of Whimsica, in the town of Speckle Town. After stepping through the mirror, Haku’s plush cat Snowbell comes to life.

They are sent out through another mirror that is in Whimsica. This portal is a one-way portal, meaning they cannot go back through the mirror to get back to Earth.

The mirror is located in a wooded area in Speckle Town.

Snowbell, who is now alive, jumps from Haku’s arms and begins to wander off.

Haku and Neru follow after Snowbell and notice a very magical feel about the woods. They eventually make their way out of the forest and into Teto’s bakery.

But I literally cannot think about what happens next.

———

MORE DETAILS

Haku remembers her older half brother Dell from when she was a toddler. Dell would always comfort Haku when she cried, and was warm and kind. Dell would protect Haku when her parents fought. One day, Haku’s parents went through a bitter divorce. Her father took Dell with him and left Haku alone with her mother. Haku was 6 years old, and Dell was 7. Haku never saw Dell again.

Now in Whimsica, 10 years later, 16-year-old Haku finds out that Dell, now 17, is part of the evil organization on planet Monochrome, along with his father. Dell is now cold-hearted, sinister, and malicious. Everyone hates him. Haku is heartbroken at how her brother changed. However, she feels inside that this is not the real Dell. Haku feels that their awful father must’ve pressured Dell to turn to the dark side.

When Haku was 7 years old, she was introduced to her 5-year-old cousin, Miku Hatsune, to heal from the pain of losing her father and Dell. Haku and Miku got along and played together until Haku was 10 and Miku was 8. Then, Miku and her mother mysteriously moved away, vanishing without a trace...

6 years later, the two reunite in Whimsica.

———

THE UTAU CREW’S ADVENTURES

Uta Utane (AKA Defoko,) 14 years old, is an artificial humanoid from a dystopian planet where music is banned and kept a secret by the government. This planet mass-produces androids. This planet is at war with another dystopian planet and they both produce androids for the purpose for fighting the war. Due to a manufacturing error, the one of the “Default female-1” (codenamed “Defoko”) androids ended up significantly more sentient. She hated the war and fighting, so she rebelled. Defoko feels very depressed and empty about her life, and hates being a machine. She uses her advanced aerospace engineering intellect to build a spacecraft that can flee from the planet unnoticed, and arrives at the magical world of Whimsica where things are better on December 3rd. She changes her name to Uta Utane, after some kanji she saw on the sign of a karaoke cafe around her new home.

(*Uta chose to name herself after kanji from the cafe, because the musical sounds coming from the building made her feel something “warm and poignant.” The night when she visited the cafe, Taya and his friend Ritsu were inside, having a session of singing karaoke. Taya was singing a solo in attempt to get over his shyness. The sound Uta fell in love with was actually Taya’s singing voice.)

Uta begins living alone in a small, worn-down apartment. She gets a part-time job repairing computers to make ends meet.

Uta describes herself as being self-aware, but lacking the ability to feel euphoria. (Think of it as a sort of depression.) She wishes she were a “real girl” so she could feel this emotion. Despite this, Uta is a very kind, considerate, wisecracking, and compassionate spirit.

Uta enrolls herself in the local magical high school. It is a very, very strange school.

On her first day at school, Uta‘s first period class is cooking class. She ends up making everything explode. She doesn’t feel like she fits in. On her way to her second-period class, Uta ends up meeting Taya Soune, her shy 15-year-old classmate.

Taya is very late to class because a mean girl named Tei threw his monocle in the big wishing well and ran off, leaving Taya having to change into his wetsuit, dive in the well and find his monocle, and then go back to the dressing room and change back into his suit and tie outfit. Uta meanwhile is wandering the chaotic hallways of the school, completely lost.

Sometimes in Adventure Academy, when class is in session and students are supposed to be in class, there is a small chance of a monster spawning in the hallways. If a student needs to visit the bathroom or walk down the hall for any reason during a class session, a hall pass can protect students from these monsters.

A monster ends up spawning in the hall as Uta and Taya cross paths. It’s six feet tall and looks like a cross between a penguin, bear, and snake. And it has lots of neon spikes. Neither Taya or Uta have a hall pass on them, so it attacks them!

In Whimsica, monsters are creatures with no souls that typically do nothing but cause destruction. They are mostly made of negative emotions.

Taya may have some magic, but isn’t very good at fighting, so Uta uses her epic android powers to defeat the monster.

When monsters in Whimsica are defeated, they sometimes drop various kinds of items. The monster drops game tickets to use in the arcade. Uta doesn’t know what they are.

Taya thanks Uta profusely for defeating the monster. He is in awe of the new student’s powers and asks where she is from. Uta is very shy, which Taya doesn’t expect since she is so good in battle. She has a quiet voice that sounds monotone and a bit artificial. Uta finally spits out that she is an android from space. Taya realizes Uta may be sensitive about this, so he vows to try and keep this secret.

Taya tells Uta his name and begins to get to know her. He guides Uta on her way to her second period class, magic class, which they have together. After school, Taya says he will go to the mall with Uta and show her the arcade, and use the game tickets they acquired from the monster.

Uta’s third period is math class, which Taya isn’t in.

In math class, Uta meets two new friends named Teto and Momo. Taya’s third period class is music class. He has this class with with Ritsu, along with Ritsu’s other good friend, Ruko.

After third period class, is lunch break, and everyone meets up together.

Fourth period, Uta has computer coding with Ritsu. Taya has cooking class with Teto and Momo, and Ruko is alone in language arts.

Fifth period, everyone has gym class together.

Finally, in sixth period, Uta and Taya have Whimsica Geography class together. Everyone else is together in dance class.

Uta starts opening up to Taya when she feels she can trust him. By the end of the school day, they are friends.

“I want to be a real girl.” Uta tells him then. “I want to have a soul. As an android, I cannot truly feel joy.”

However, Taya believes that Uta is already a real girl, and that she has a beautiful soul. He is determined on his quest to help Uta feel true happiness.

After school, Taya takes Uta to the arcade, and Uta hears all kinds of music. Taya has never seen Uta so entranced before. Uta asks Taya why these sounds make her feel so alive. Taya tells Uta that they are more than just sounds, they have feelings and soul, and are called “music.” Uta falls in love with music. When she hears it, she becomes indescribably enthralled.

At the arcade, Taya plays a dance game and gets a pretty high score. Apparently, it’s Taya’s favorite game at the arcade and he has had a lot of practice every chance he could get. Uta is mesmerized as she watches Taya dance to the music. Uta is a bit shy to dance herself, but a spacecraft piloting game catches her attention. Uta plays the game and gets an incredibly high score, and ends up attracting a crowd of people in awe of her skills. Uta ends up getting a huge output of coins to exchange for prizes. When Uta and Taya put their coins together, they have enough to buy a brand-new karaoke machine that even comes with three karaoke albums to sing to!

Music had awoken something deep in Uta’s soul. It’s a feeling of excitement, thrill, and comfort, but also immense yearning. Uta feels she wouldn’t be truly happy unless she would be able to compose music and sing. Taya sees Uta staring longingly at the karaoke machine.

“Oh, would you like the karaoke machine?” Taya asks Uta. “If so, it can be all yours. I already have something like it. I think it would be great for you. You want to sing, don’t you? You’ll get to experience music even more!”

“Thank you.” Uta says. “But... I’m afraid I can’t.”

Uta looks incredibly forlorn.

“Why?” Taya asks softly. “What do you mean?”

Uta explains that she feels she wouldn’t be able to sing or compose music, since one needs a heart to be able to make music. Uta is convinced she doesn’t have one. Also, can a being with an artificial voice really sing?

Taya can tell how much Uta longs to create music. He hugs her gently and tells her that he’ll help her however he can, and that she shouldn’t give up.

Taya ends getting a bit emotional. Uta ends up getting emotional too. They end up holding up the line. Merli, a snobby girl from school, is next in line. She rolls her eyes and says “Oh PLEASE.”

Taya ends up developing feelings for Uta. Her story and dream pulls at his heartstrings. He feels very sincerely for her.

They end up buying the karaoke machine and go back to Uta’s apartment. Taya calls his parents and tell them he is at a friend’s house. Taya supports Uta with her dream and teaches her the first steps to singing. They have their first singing lesson.

Taya is a bit shy with singing, but he is determined to be a good vocal coach to Uta. He looks back to the exercises he did with Ritsu in attempt to get over his shyness. As Taya sings, Uta recognizes his voice as “the sound that awakened her soul” back when she first came to Whimsica, but she keeps quiet about it due to being bashful.

It takes a while, but Uta finally figures out how to match pitch. She is able to vocalize simple tunes, but still has a long ways to go...

Taya soon hears Uta practicing her singing by herself a lot. At first Uta is very upset and discouraged because she just can’t seem to control her voice well. Eventually, Tei Sukone, who bullies Uta and Taya, says Uta should just give up. “She’s just a robot, right?” Tei says. “Robots don’t have souls. They don’t have what it takes to sing.”

Uta feels deeply hurt and discouraged by this comment and considers maybe she wasn’t meant to sing. Afterwards, Ritsu becomes very angry with Tei... but he also has things to say to Uta as well. “Are you really going to give up just like that?” Ritsu criticizes Uta. “Don’t be so weak-willed!” Uta begins crying. Taya comforts Uta and tells Ritsu he was a bit harsh. Uta was already feeling hurt enough.

Uta doesn’t give up, runs off somewhere, and sings all day with bad technique and without any breaks until she passes out alone. Taya searches around town for Uta and finds her unconscious. Everyone is extremely worried. Ritsu gets a chance to apologize to Uta and says he just wanted to see her fulfill her dream and would’ve been as crushed as Uta if she were to have given up. He didn’t mean to be so harsh. Ritsu and the rest of Uta’s friends reassure her and recommend her to take breaks and exercise better technique.

Uta’s friends help her the best they can, and Uta begins practicing singing nearly every chance she gets, but this time with breaks and good technique. Taya can tell that Uta really loves music and is truly determined. Eventually he’s impressed and blown away by how far she gets. Even though Uta was never programmed to be able to sing, she eventually begins to develop a unique singing voice through hours upon hours of practicing painstakingly.

Eventually there is a part where Taya, along with the rest of the group of Uta’s good friends (Teto, Momo, Ritsu, and Ruko) are captured because they were accused of stealing “Defoko” away from the planet that produced her. Uta is taken back there as well, but she uses the combat powers she kept hidden for a long time to bust out.

Uta then fights her own creators with a power that is foreign (and deadly) to them.... The power of song! The power of love, and passion, and heart, and... joy! The evil aliens do not stand a chance against the power of Uta’s magical song and voice.

“Defoko! When the heck did you learn to produce a singing voice? This isn’t what you were programmed to do! Stop this madness, right this instant!” They tell her.

Uta does not give them mercy. They took her precious friends. They continue to manufacture androids that cannot feel joy. This needs to stop right now!

Uta ends up destroying the entire sinister operation, and also starts both of the dystopian planets down their paths to peace.

After this feat, and rescuing her dear friends, Uta fulfills herself and unlocks her magical girl transformation. In Whimsica, magical transformations are unlocked when the user “fulfills” themself, symbolizing that they’ve overcome a difficult hurdle, accomplished a wonderful goal, or opened the door to their true self.

Now that Uta is fulfilled, she unlocked the power herself to be able to experience euphoria. All the other androids that were produced by her shady manufacturer also gained the ability to feel joy as well.

Uta had slain the chains in her heart and will live on happily with Taya and the rest of her friends.

Uta’s three siblings are also androids created by the same planet who admire her and want to be her siblings after she ends up saving them. They are related in a sense since they were created by the same “company.”

But this is not the end of the story with everyone.

Now it’s time for Taya’s story.

Taya hasn’t seen Saya for years... He is beginning to lose hope that she’s still alive...

Taya Soune and Saya Toune were childhood best friends who grew up someplace else. However, one day when they were both 12, Saya became depressed, and it was hard for Taya to watch his friend suffer. Some time afterwards, an earthquake hit the area and everyone had to take only their most important items and evacuate rapidly before a tsunami were to hit. Taya had to move to his current location, and had to leave Saya without saying goodbye. He never saw Saya again.

After this incident, Taya never got a phone call from Saya, or a letter or any hint she might’ve still been alive and out there. It wouldn’t have been unlikely that Saya and her family had died tragically in the earthquake or aftermath tsunami.

Taya is now left with a heavy, broken heart, and an intense fear of earthquakes. He is most torn apart that the fact that Saya had depression and the last few months before her departure to be so sad.

One day in the present, Uta, Taya, and the rest of the friend group are out at the mall. A song comes on that reminds Taya of his memories with Saya. He begins fighting back tears, but eventually starts sobbing and splits from the group, telling everyone he needs a moment alone. Everyone is concerned. Uta approaches Taya gently after he calms down. Taya then tells Uta about Saya, their story, and how much he misses his friend.

Uta is the first person Taya tells about Saya since he had moved. None of his other friends knew about the sadness he hid in his heart.

It had been years since Saya’s disappearance. Taya has pretty much lost all hope at this point.

Uta reassures Taya that he still shouldn’t give up hope. Uta’s words uplift Taya with a new hope that he had never before felt.

One day when Taya is feeling useless, Uta consoles him and tells him something she was too shy to say before.

“Taya, your voice was the sound that awoken my soul. When I first came to Whimsica, I walked past the karaoke cafe, and I heard you sing. It was the first time I had ever heard music. You sang so wonderfully, and I felt so warm. I felt then, that music was a truly amazing thing. It was you who changed my life Taya... So please, don’t feel sad.”

Eventually, it turns out that Saya is actually still alive. One fateful day, Taya and Saya reunite. Saya becomes a part of Uta and Taya’s group of friends.

(To he continued!)

———

EVEN MORE DETAIL and brainstorms

How do they search for Saya?

What about Taya’s musical play? -It is called “Fantasia Saga” -He started writing it out of grief of losing Saya. -Leeds Kasumiga, a girl with an illness, becomes a big fan of Taya and his play and acting.

Miscellaneous emotional stuff:

Funny interactions and things: Taya’s incredibly neat majestic handwriting Ritsu’s cursed illegible chicken scratch handwriting

Fluffy interactions:

Happenings:

Drama: -Ritsu is just sad sometimes -Uta still struggles with feeling inadequate and depressed at times, even after her heroic feat... But her friends are there to cheer her up. -Ritsu’s unrequited feelings for Taya... -Tei has a crush on Teto, and really doesn’t like Momo! Momo becomes Tei’s bullying target... -Ritsu used to bully Gumi as an elementary schooler, but now feels deep remorse and longs to apologize -Taya is very set off by a minor earthquake, due to his traumatic memories dealing with a major one in the past. Taya and Uta’s have a minor disagreement... and both of them become very torn up about it -Momo’s goodbye? But in the end, it turns out she can stay... -Ritsu and Ruko have a big fight... but make up and become even closer -Taya and Saya’s tear-jerking reunion... -Saya doesn’t recognize Taya for a split second, because his appearance had changed, and so did his gender identity. But the moment Saya recognizes his heart and sincerity, she knows it is Taya.

Miscellaneous random details

Magical transformations and fantasy things: Monster of the week?

[shy-marker-pliers]

High school AU thingamabob

Dark

17 year old senior

class president and is kinda high and mighty about it tbh

“yes i know student council can’t really make any changes without the input of the superintendent but IM THE PRESIDENT AND YOU’RE NOT SO SUCK MY DI-“

does sound/lights for all the shows the school puts on

dating wilford and no one knows how or why they’re together

had a deep as hell voice and a beard the second he hit puberty

takes every ethics/psychology class he can

wants to be a lawyer

that one kid that everyone fears but is actually kinda chill if not a little surly

wears a collared shirt and tie to school every day and would totally get made fun of for it if he wasn’t terrifying

listens to classical music unironically

“oh my god i’m so going to fail this test” *proceeds to get the highest grade in the class*

protector of the gays™️

person: *says something mean to a student because they’re lgbtq+*

Dark: *teleports in front of said student* omae wa mou shindeiru

Wilford

19 year old senior

Yes he still has the mustache

doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks of him

deadass wore a dress to school after one of his friends got made fun of because she wore a suit to a school dance

b u f f a s h e l l

could bench press a teacher if he really tried

on the cheer team

“no i’m not wearing pants, this miniskirt makes my ass look great!”

everyone’s bodyguard

usually attracts a crowd of nervous underclassmen

has mild dyslexia

tol

gives his friends piggyback rides

president of the drama club

works hard enough in school to pass his classes but that’s pretty much it

sleeps in class

Bim

15 year old freshman

vice president of the drama club

wilfords shadow

first freshman to help run the drama club and shoves it in everyone’s face

shouts his gayness from the rooftops

secretly super insecure

loves plants and helps out in the schools greenhouse

named all of the plants but if you tell anyone he’ll stab you

gets mostly B’s and C’s

has mild ocd but not enough to affect him severely

talks like a game show host cause he thinks it makes him sound attractive

it doesn’t

Google(s)

16 year old juniors

identical quadruplets

they have to wear different colors every day or else no one knows which one is which

they’re called the googles because their backpacks match the colors of the chrome logo and they’re super smart

straight A 4.0 GPA students but Oliver has to try a little harder than his brothers

all of them are in the robotics team except for ollie

Blue works on programming and red and green are on the build team

Ollie is the sweetest day of sunshine to ever exist and everyone loves him

he’s basically adopted Eric as his lil bro

tutors people in the library every tuesday and thursday

the other googles disapprove of his relationship with bing but he makes ollie happy so they don’t do anything about it

they all work in a supermarket and they’re saving up for college

ollie wants to be a vet, red and green want to be engineers, and blue wants to be a web developer

Bing

17 year old junior

mostly A’s, a few B’s.

his full name is zachary bing but people call him bing because he’s always trying to one up the googles

dudebro

was pining after ollie for months before chase finally felt sorry for him and told ollie how he felt

they’re dating now and it’s adorable

so soft for his boyf

a really good skater and wins a lot of local competitions

doesn’t study but still gets p good grades

wears sunglasses all the time because he has light sensitivity

Has ADHD

s t r o n k

always challenges people to arm wrestle him

can sing really well and plays gitaur

shares a youtube channel with chase where they skate and to challenges and stuff

Dr. ipiler

18 year old senior

Everyone calls him doc because he helps the school nurse and takes every single biology and health class there is

all A’s

really wants to be a surgeon

best friends with Schneep

huge star trek/harry potter nerd (ravenclaw if you’re wondering)

almost always at schneep’s house studying or just chillin’

kind of a control freak

thinks he’s charismatic but he’s actually kinda annoying

but annoying in a funny way

has a pet ferret that he sneaks into school

feral

espresso and sugar flows through his veins

“i actually got a good sleep last night.” “oh really?” “yeah bro i got a whole half hour!”

super dark bags under his eyes

Host

17 year old junior

all A’s except for in gym class

he has eyes in this

his real name is Simon Charles Teller (there are specific meanings to those names btw look them up) but he’s called The Host because he does morning announcements every day.

has gold eyes and a lot of people find it unnerving

“hey i have a podcast you should totally listen to it”

nocturnal

spends all of his free time in the library

always reading in class but the teachers don’t really care bc his grades are good and he does his homework

wants to be an english/poetry teacher

crushing on the cute shy kid from his english class

doesn’t talk much but he’ll still be nice to you

that one kid who’s always correcting the teachers

Runs the D&D club (he’s the dungeon master)

Eric Derekson

16 year old junior

Mostly high B’s, a couple of A’s.

lives with his uncle mark after he ran away from his abusive dad and is living a happy life

the guy that always volunteers to take care of the class pets over the weekend

animals love him

has anxiety, mild paranoia and autism.

animals, harry potter, and pokémon are his hyperfixations.

he also really likes gardening

crushing big time on hostioli

spends his entire english class staring at him and blushing

is seriously considering joining D&D club just to be able to talk to him

he’s in the art club

wants to be a vet and maybe do some freelance art stuff on the side

Ollie keeps yelling at him to just ask host out already but he’s too nervous

my poor bb boi

Wears sweaters all the time

wears headphones to block out noise if it ever gets too loud at he goes into sensory overload

disaster bi

Yan

18 year old senior

gets C’s

non-binary

has a makeup tutorial channel on youtube and has a pretty decent following

That one weeb

dyes their hair a new color every week

also has a new crush every week

everyone knows who their newest victim is because they never stop watching them

draws anime or cute animals for every art class

wants to be a a fashion designer

does MMA

everyone kinda stears clear of them

writes their first initial along with their crush’s on every notebook they own

has gotten suspended for beating kids up on multiple occasions

doesn’t really have that many friends but they don’t mind

spends their lunches watching their crush

in the drama club and the art club

Randall Voorhees

18 year old senior

C’s and D’s

Eric’s cousin/bodyguard

they have a lot of the same classes and walk everywhere together

loves animals and has like 10 pet rats

he doesn’t really care about his grades because he knows that he wants to be a woodworker/construction guy

makes little houses out of scrap wood for his rats and Eric thinks it’s adorable

always sneaks his rats to school and lets them have play dates with dr. iplier’s ferret

“nO IM NOT RELATED TO JASON VOORHEES HES NOT EVEN REAL SO SHUT THE HELL UP-“

used to live in nyc in queens and still has a pretty strong accent

completely incomprehensible when he’s excited or angry bc of the accent

everyone is jealous of his hair

spends like 100 dollars on shampoo and conditioner and stuff but it’s worth it

acts like the straightest guy in existence but could not be more gay

his boots are always muddy

Yancy

16 year old sophomore

his name is Yancy Bird

g...get it? like jailbird? ahaha...ok i’ll stop

permanent resident of the detention room

but he gets to just chill out and read for an hour so he doesn’t really mind

mostly gets detention for beating up kids that bully others

fuck the system

always wears a leather jacket and blue jeans

“hey, the 50’s called and they want their-“ SMACK. “shut up.”

takes a lot of criminal justice and psychology classes ironically

in the botany club but if you tell anyone they’ll never find your body

everyone is surprised when they find out he’s friends with Eric and ollie

pan but in denial

“i’m not gay guys, that ain’t me, i’m just comfortable with my sexuality. so i can admit when i see a guy with a handsome face and pretty eyes-“

that song is great btw you should listen to it

anyway

always makes really dark jokes and everyone is like “are you ok?”

except for his friends they just laugh

“lmao wouldn’t it be funny if everyone like...died”

[thedrown]

Interloper Rework!

 Hellooo everyone, sorry for the sporadic doodles been adjusting to the new stylus/tablet and also working on some ref sheets that can be time consuming. Now then as you know I have several comic ideas the main ones being my vigilante comic BLAABR and a Star Wars story set during the Clone Wars called GOTS. While both of these series are pretty fleshed out both story and character wise, my newer series are still developing and as such my Imperial era Star Wars story “Interloper” is getting another rework! Details bellow if interested in how it will affect the fledgling story/art of characters from this series.

 So then, for a quick refresher since it’s been ages since the last upload, Star Wars Interloper is a Star Wars story set during the Imperial era following the small crew of an Imperial Light Cruiser as they engage in counter espionage predominately within the more autonomous zone of the Corporate Sector. The main cast include a young Umbaran pilot of a prototype TIE/Umbaran fighter, a spunky Rodian engineer, a nervous Pyke nurse, a Whiphid bodyguard and her Twilek boss, an Inquisitorus reject turned force adept spy, and the ex-shoretrooper captain of the whole ship. The villains were a cell of highly aggressive rebels separate from the mainline Alliance who were seeking to lay siege to the Corporate Sector to deal a major blow to the Imperial economy via terroristic means as this cadre of diverse victims of the Empire have little to lose and burn with vengeance. That’s really the long and short of it and thinking of a mainline story of these two parties engaging has been difficult to an extent. I eventually added characters from a scrapped Old Republic idea to be in a second arc so to speak with this one focused on an Imperial Moff going rogue with his fleet within Unknown Space seeking to build a true Sith empire that follows his pureblooded ancestry. This story idea held much more weight than the first and has been easier to flesh out yet getting there remained the issue.

 Enter another facet, a character from GOTS named Kanta Cym, who seemingly dies at the end of the series, survives via the dark side of the force and manages to cheat death via cloning but finds herself without any force abilities as a result and continues her studies of the ancient Sith unhindered by the Jedi as the Empire now reigns. Originally this was little more than a character epilogue post GOTS but I’ve taken more and more of an interest in fleshing this idea out thinking of her struggles without the force, survival in the slums of city worlds, and meeting a comrade in a shapeshifting Shiido bounty hunter as they evade the Empire, cartels, and a band of Jedi in hiding all the while she attempts to rekindle her force abilities by donning the mask of Darth Nihilus albeit with detrimental repercussions from overuse.

 So! I intend to essentially merge these stories into one, taking the stronger narrative of Cym’s endeavours during the Imperial era with the colourful cast and look through Imperial eyes of Interloper. Essentially the story now will follow Kanta as the protagonist for a time as we follow her efforts to pursue the dark side alongside her compatriot (whom I may change from a Shiido to a Harch) and the early antagonists being this rogue Jedi group. This portion will be fairly short and culminate with the Jedi being caught by Adaso’s men thus bridging the two stories as Cym is quietly brought into the fold given Adaso’s meager command and leniency brining her and her comrade aboard as a new spy for the crew (though he only knows of her borderline nonexistent force abilities not her past with the Jedi or Dark Side). And from here we enter Interlopers original plot with the Rebel cell albeit now with a more active protagonist as the Umbaran was very inactive as a protag and lacking in character while Kanta will replace the original spy character from Interloper. Kanta being unaligned with or caring about the Empire as well as her highly peculiar personality will give the plot more life and act not as a parallel or counter to the extremist Rebels, but essentially just being another character with neither being the “good” guy and both seeing the other as little more than obstacles which will allow for the characterization of the Interloper crew like originally intended whilst also keeping the central conflict engaging instead of feeling like just another skirmish. Similarly the spy character now being former Jedi and dark side student Kanta over the original spy character will work far greater in the second arc given it’s central plot point of the Sith species and darksiders acting as the primary antagonists. 

 Basically, moving forward this new Interloper iteration will be the perfect blend of every small scale Star Wars story I’ve invested in but found unable to turn into a full story. That said, the central themes of Interloper will be unchanged, it will still be a series from an Imperial perspective focusing on Adaso’s crew despite Kanta’s addition to the main cast. The exploration of the Sith and Kanta’s furthering of her efforts to reconnect to the force won’t be lost either as the second arc will provide ample material to do so while the first Rebel arc can instead look more at her relationship with Nihilus and her becoming accustomed to this new era and her new clone body. Now then, expect (much needed) updates to the existing Interloper cast with new backstories where necessary as well as some new characters/new versions of characters and unfortunately the deletion of some characters who won’t make the cut. Thank you and Stay Tuned!

[aemperatrix]

Keats Is Coughing

by Marianne Boruch

Everything is made of everything. — Leonardo da Vinci

I found Rome in the woods.

Fair to admit it’s mostly tundra to the west in the park, past Toklat the Denali I revised, low grasslands engineered to freeze deep by October — this being Alaska — the great

           Tabularium close to the Temple of            Castor and Pollux I rebuilt that same summer —             not superimposed, exact as any scheme

in secret — the Arch of Septimius Severus at the gravel bar        where fox drank from a river turned stream,           a Theater of Marcellus near               the ranger station where one raven,                                                                                    such a brat,   complained of                      my Circus Maximus, Trajan’s Column,                              my Baths of Diocletian, too many spots soaked in unpronounceable Latin.

                   I really did, I shouldered bits of it,      a ruin-hushed haunted business, my brain                                                         a truck bed, a lift, pulleys big as a whale’s heart, expletives of cheap wonder all over                                                                  my woodlot and expanse.                          One self-anoints to embellish day, years, life thus far, and think oneself so...    

                      Then busted — 

by a raven!

Well, that’s memory for you, that’s so-called        civilization for you, to layer up,                         to redo the already done.

I mean it’s a fact, the puny life span we’re allotted.              And proof — Denali in August, fireweed, spunky scrawny first Latinate — Erechtites hieracifolia — 

              giving off flowers to mark               what weeks left, little               time bomber, time traveler, ancient               slips red-flagging the countdown to winter               by climbing its own stalk.

Something perverse about that. Something perfectly fiendishly self-conscious about that.

•

From the start perverse, any premise.      Ask...We can’t know. To be compelled

           makes an occasion. Rome’s grand     past horrific, fire and ash, swamp into bog, lust              and bloodlust — 

The Alaska Range dreams lurid as Rome,                                        the worst way below being fire, summer snow at night      off the highest peaks by noon              as distant from our cabin as the size of a hand if I                         held up the one with                         an eye in the middle

to know how this works. Some have the power to raise from the dead a before, before scary and beautiful           back to mystery cults, in caves, rubble far under a Roman street, the altar to Mithras still slaying his bull, crumbling the stonework.

            All things being equal. But they’re not.                    Agony, it’s older.                      Ask the moose at Denali,                         the snowshoe hare, the lynx,

such a wily courtly lot.                                           Ask Ovid      banished to his hovel on the Black Sea, aching                for Rome’s exalted rude cacophony, each      exiled month a big thick X down

                                  Februarius,                                 Aprilis to home-shattered sick enough

for an undersong. Look it up! Undersong: a strain; a droning; the burden of a song —                                              Maybe that lowest common denominator is contagious. Rome or Denali, a mash-up of lunge and cry out, predator and prey throwing coins to a fountain, footholds made first by a hoof, pickpockets at buses and trains, nuns queuing up their no-nonsense, thorny brambles, raggedy spruce groves,                                           a look, a nod to sell loveless love on the street, a chain of mountains in choral repeat, saints stained to glass, how ice gouged rivers from rock-bound,                                 the one-lung rapturous common-sense Pope all outstretched arms, his little popemobile circling the thrilled at St. Peter’s up on our rickety chairs to see in six, seven languages how radiant —                             Cross my heart, he was. And Keats, Keats is coughing.

•

You find the fossil record everywhere. In woods, tundra, under streets, in cadaver labs.                                 Not those bright transparencies, wistful orderly page after page in biology, a lie, a kind of flip-book romance. It’s the one big mess of us in us, the generous extraordinary dead prove that, signing a paper, giving themselves away                                            to be cut, disembodied for the knowing it, sunk to their chemical depth in some afterlife, opened on a table by kids really,                                             belabored doctors-to-be, our shabby shared wilderness to untangle, bones   joints   arteries   valves,                                                         The Dissector in hand, weirdest how-to book on the planet. For Keats too, 1819, his scribbled roses and sunflowers in margins,                                                                  his training,                                                           his anatomy theatre, looking down and later: still London, then Rome (he who gets it,  body fails, second floor, beside the Spanish Steps).                                           Heart, not my heart anymore.                                     Forgive me. I’m worse than the hopelessly confused misnamed English sparrow, descendant of the great weaver birds of Africa, a finch that lost the gene

      for nest, how to beneath, to across so intricate, precise, bringing bringing sticks and hair and bits of shiny paper. Undersong: the burden of a song.                                                       Poor bird. Poor sweet muddled middle of it. I watched morning after morning, his offering...                                                                           It’s Keats who made claims about beauty and time. His bed at the last                        too low for the window, his must-have                                 tell me, what’s out there — 

I admit: a ridiculous layering, Rome in Denali. Just because? Because I went to both in short order? Two continents, an ocean apart. My mother loved hand-me-down expressions — never the twain shall meet. They do meet.                           To repeat: that’s civilization for you. Happenstance and right now drag along future and past                             and why the hell not the Denali, the Rome in any of us, no two states of being more unalike, worn-out compulsion to collect and harbor, piece together,                                                                    stupid into some remember machine.

  Such fabulous unthinkable inventions we’ve made to merge or unmake: the trash compactor,   the poem, all tragedy and story, pencils sharpened to

a point that keeps breaking, wilderness gone inward as

                  an ocean-going ship’s container,                         a Gatling gun,                                 the AR-15 of the seething deranged,                                         the H-bomb,                                             Roman legions to Canterbury to blood-up fields into legend then dig the first plumbing but

                                            how can you                                             be in two places at once                                             when you’re not anywhere at all!

       (Thank you, Firesign Theatre, brilliant wackos,              old vinyl on a turntable still in the game... )

                     Fine. Fuck it. Start over.

•

See the sheep on high ledges, the arctic squirrels below.

See the way Dante saw, sweeping his arm across Vasari’s great painting as Boccaccio looks off, the plague sealing city after city. Dante

in hell, steady-luminous     those fact-finding trips to service           his worldly Inferno.

Winter sleeps through. August at Denali, bears shovel it down       a razor-edged maw —                                                 twigs! berries! more stems! —  Fate hoards to prepare, sub-zeros, fattens into...   

See the park’s camper bus, 92 miles how most of us jolt and slow, crossing hours more daylight than night all summer, rattling tin can with its exhaust and hissing gravel, the fear landslide                  an undersong just-possible, how we zigzag a mountain. Look!

                 Nearing a bear, the young caribou abruptly                             hesitant, shy as a leaf — 

No! Don’t! Do not! That grizzly huge, bent to his ploy just                                                 these berries around here, his ignore ignore, sure, quiet-tense as a trigger, and we of                      fogged scratched windows so hard to open — 

stop! The bus stopped. Jesus. The thing curious, closer...                          They’re not

that smart anyhow, a stage-whispering drunk from the back      of our imperial realm, mile 62, the Park Road.

What did Venus decree in her temple up whichever narrow street in Rome, the Ancients’                             stink of slops, standing water,           a bear chained to a slave (out of slav, by the way,                             backdrop is horde, human spoils)

both shackled to a grindstone for                                                             a later mob and roar.

Here’s what we saw: the little caribou  in reverse wanders sideways and safe.                                             Our bus one big sigh or like a wheezing asthmatic the brakes unbrake.

Bad dream, bad dream, the undersong start to all fable if                        for real we’d seen that kill back to lions off their continent cornered, bloodied in the great amphitheaters, rearing up, a nail to hammer’s                                   bite and blow. The wilderness in us

is endless. Near the cabin, near evening, a warbler                               in the fireweed                                                    hawk saw or heard,                          his switchblade clicked to —                                                                         I was and I was                      whirling feathers, either bird —    Every hunger                            is first century. Forever-thus   feral cats at the Forum about to leap too.                                                        The Forum, last homage   I shoveled holes and rocks to   remake, mile 82, while the haymouse riddled the meadow   down deep, her catacombs.

•

Time + beauty = ruins. Perfect shapes in the mind       meet my friends Pointless and Threat and Years of       Failure to Meld or Put to Rest. Ruthless                                                                                 is human.

I ask a composer: How to live with this undersong thing                             over and over, how to

                                                                   get rid of it,                                                                        the world of it — 

 He looks at me. What undersong thing? And shrugs       I’ll put it on the test! Let students define it.

     So I dreamt such a test: Go there. To Rome.                    Half-doze against a wall                      two thousand years of

    flesh    sweat    insect wing ago, stone laid by hand, by a boy when a whip, a whip, a welling up, his will not speak.

   Have at it. Please explain. Please fill in this blank.

Grief punctures like ice, moves like a glacier   to flat and slog and myth, low blue and white flowers       we hiked trail-less. The rangers insist. They insist — 

      never follow or lead, never lay down a path.

                                                                       From above the look of us spread out, our seven or eight a band, little stray exhausted figures                                           as over the land bridge from Asia,

circa: prehistory keeps coming, older than Rome, both   both underfoot, understory, underway

        miles below numb, it’s burning.

•

To see at all, you time                                         and this time and time again.

The spirit leans intrigued, the other part bored, then there’s want,                                                                    then there’s wait.

Once a city began with a wolf whose two human pups would      build, would watch it fall, nursing                                              at her milk for centuries               in marble               in bronze.

         She stands there and cries of                                                               that pleasure, by turns a blood-chill. The tundra. At night.

A snake eats its own tail, forever at it on a fresco. A real snake                       leaves his skin near the gravel bar. Some words sting, some are sung. Another life isn’t smaller.

[mychemicalficrecs]

Gerard Works in Comics

A New Design For X and Y by DeadFreddie, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Explicit. Frank Iero is the frontman in a successful band called Leathermouth, and Gerard Way is a comic writer working for DC. When they meet at one of Frank's shows, their mutual respect for the other's work becomes something a lot more personal. Oh and Frank's a trans guy and Gerard's nonbinary because I'm Trans And I Make The Rules.

Mixed Bathing at Home by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, 7k, Teen And Up Audiences. it is a pointless AU where gerard writes comics and frank is in leathermouth, but there is no mcr. gerard gets his toe stuck in a faucet and frank rescues him.

Transatlanticism by tabulaxrasa, Frank/Gerard, 21k, Explicit. Gerard's a comic book writer living in London. Frank works for a record label and has a band in New York. The problem with meeting in the middle is there's a whacking great ocean there.

They Came From Outer Jersey! by thatsfinewithus, Gen, Frank/Gerard, 25k, Rated R. New London Fire is an elite fringe government force assigned the task of protecting the earth from some of its more interesting threats: those from beyond the atmosphere or even the universe. They've handled dangerous cases before, but they've never seen anything like...ZOMBIES FROM SPACE. Vampires, long hunted in lore and legend, are now the earth's only saviors. There is little information as to who sent the creatures until Mikey Way, head of the NLF, finds out more by being abducted. Is it too late for him? Is it too late for the earth? Find out how six vampires, one government general, and one frustrated comic book artist save the earth in...THEY CAME FROM OUTER JERSEY!!

Still Crazy After All These Years by noxeir, Frank/Gerard, 822 words [WIP], Not Rated. Frank doesn’t think it’s crazy. He doesn't know. Maybe he’s crazy. Maybe he’s crazy to still love his English teacher. Former English teacher, he corrects himself. Frank has just resigned himself to the fact that he's hopelessly in love, but with the wrong person when then the local comic shop has a signing with Gerard Way, and Frank can’t not go.

Like sticking a fork in an electrical outlet by aliceboleyn, Frank/Gerard, 6k [WIP], Mature. Gerard is a successful comic writer in desperate search for inspiration and Frank is a dissatisfied 26 year old attempting to express what's inside him. A poem which sounds a lot like a cry for help will tie them together, for, after all, destiny does work in mysterious ways.

Don't Try (Please, please, please try) by semataryeyes, Frank/Gerard, 5k [WIP], Explicit. Gerard is living in New York City working for a company writing comics while nursing a drug habit on the side. He breaks up with his long term boyfriend, Bert, causing him to go to the only person he knows won't refuse him, his brother Mikey. Little does Gerard know that Mikey has a roommate, and he is everything pure in the world bundled up into the enigma that is Frank Iero.

A Pale Galaxy Colliding In Crystal Balls by theloudestgraves, Frank/Gerard, 11k [WIP], Teen And Up Audiences. Frank knew Mikey had an older brother. His name was Gerard, and apparently he was out of art college and working for a comic book company. Frank never expected to meet him, and he guessed he was alright with that. But one day, Mikey said, “I think it’s time you met Gee.”

Get up, get out and be social (Frerard) by Rachel_Carter, Frank/Gerard, 5k, Not Rated. Gerard is working on an art assignment in a coffee shop where he meets Frank, a pre-med student. When Frank gives Gerard his phone number, their relationship develops.

stitched up heart by 10rings, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Mature. Gerard was born unlike most, he doesn't feel entirely normal until he meets the short tattooed cashier at his local grocery store.

It's Raining Men (Hallelujah) by thisishowidisappear, Frank/Gerard, 849 words, General Audiences. Frank is getting sick of being single. Luckily for him, the perfect guy is just around the corner. Or, you know, up a tree

Hold On Tight and Don't Look Back by romanticizingchemicals, Frank/Gerard, 48k, Explicit. The whole concept of "love at first sight" is ridiculous. Absolutely untrue. Blasphemy, Okay, maybe not for Frank and Gerard. Gerard Way is an aspired comic artist, with a desire to do big things. Living with his brother, though, really prohibits him from making much of a change. Frank Iero is a man of many talents; from guitar to singing to working his several jobs, Frank really is a "Jack-of-all-trades". He's just recovered from a very abusive relationship, but hides its effects very well. When the two meet, you have your average love story. But soon enough, that relationship evolves into something more. Hopeless crushes and glimpses of each other turn into something both of them could have never imagined.

Cruise ships and comic books by Leah_Red, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Teen And Up Audiences. Hermit comic book artist Gerard Way decides to finally get away from home and go on a cruise, where he finds that one of the staff has a look that's too amazing to not draw.

Two Dreams Came True that Day and Gerard hadn't even Known about the Second One by wellthisisprettyrisque (collettephinz), Ryan/Brendon, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, 5k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard Way had been one of those types-- One of the few people who had been in complete and utter denial concerning the apparent “death” of Cpt. Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America. Gerard Way had known, without a shadow of a fucking doubt, that Captain America was still (somehow) alive, and then, lo and behold, he was right. Now his brother, Mikey, was dating a robotics engineer that worked in Stark Tower and Mikey had invited Gerard to tag along in an official tour of the building and everything inside and rumor had it that Steve Rogers was actually living in Stark Tower and Gerard was absolutely fucking certain that his dream of meeting Captain America-- alive and in the flesh and not a museum exhibit-- was about to come true. (and let's be real, a celebrity-crush on Steve Rogers has to be the healthiest celebrity crush you could ever have on anyone)

The Hairdressers!AU by messitallup, Frank/Gerard, 11k, Explicit. Gerard really, really didn't need his hair cut okay, it was fine. In his opinion anyway.

Schizophrenia {A Frerard Story} by Shadow_Hunter_8, Frank/Gerard, 14k [WIP], Teen ANd Up Audiences. Gerard Way and Frank Iero have been dating since high school. Their lives seem perfect. Gerard is a comic book artist, while Frank works as a teacher. Their love for each other is so strong, they're sure that nothing can tear down their relationship. Then Gerard gets diagnosed with schizophrenia. Frank, having taken a psychology course in college, is determined to take care of Gerard instead of sending him to an institute. But as Gerard's condition worsens, will Frank be forced to admit that he isn't prepared to care for him?

Trying To Escape The Inevitable by Transboywitcher, Frank/Gerard, 60k [WIP], Mature. Gerard is an absent minded comic artist who looses his daughter in the supermarket. Frank is an over worked check out attendant with too many bands and too little sleep who helps him find her. Somehow idiots fall in love. ~“You know this happens all the time right?” Frank asked, ducking down to check under the produce bins, he’d found a whole group of kids eating a packet of skittles colour by colour under there once, like some kind of weird new age lord of the flies shit. Supermarkets man, you saw fucking everything.~

The one where Frank's a journalist and Gerard's an artist by theghostofvenom, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Teens And Up Audiences. Frank's a journalist and has to interview a Mr. Gerard Way; comic book artist. They fall in love over a cup of coffee.

Like a Fish Out of Water (You Drown in the Air) by art_brutal, 6k, Mature. Gerard's a washed-up comics writer more in thrall to the party circuit than creating art. It's going to take something or someone extraordinary to turn him around.

Half Of Something Else by fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone, Frank/Grant/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Frank left New Jersey for LA because of music, and staying was always just a means to an end. He never anticipated that the industry where he'd get his foot in the door would be comics, or that he'd be working as the one and only Grant Morrison's personal assistant. Comic artist Gerard Way is both a reminder of the place he left behind and a chance for something more. Problem is, Frank has started to see Grant as much more than just a boss…

The second one (or: Adventures at JerseyCon) by mwestbelle, Bob/Gerard, 20k, Explicit. Bob is a good personal assistant (the best) and he definitely knows better than to fall in love with his boss. But when your boss is the goth-pop comic master of our time, Gerard Way, there's more to the job than keeping a datebook. There are appearances to shepherd him to, showers to make him take, and deadlines to remind him to meet. And, really, he's so earnest, it's not that surprising that a crush might develop. Just at tiny one.

[sedehaven]

Saving Ophelia Grace’s Toe

Y’all seem to like my stories about being a witch in the Bible Belt, so here’s another one. This is a coming of age story about a young witch (me), a bunch of adults of various degrees of uselessness, and Ophelia Grace’s rotten toe.

This is not a happy story.

Names changed when necessary.

CW: Body squick, graphic injury, incompetent nurse, malevolent nurse, poisoning, bureaucratic nightmares, dark DARK shit ahead

So, in spite of the crushing poverty that I grew up in, I was given the opportunity to attend a very prestigious boarding school for Juniors and Seniors in Klan Kountry, LA. It’s a public school, so it takes kids from all over the state.

My school was run by a dude named Brother Dave.

Brother Dave was so awful that one of our senior pranks (I DID NOT DO THIS) involved a password-protected screensaver on every communal computer in the school (including, I think, Brother Dave’s office computer) of a bouncing, 3-D image of this:

Dude was NOT well-loved. It is important to know that he and I did not get along. When I was still a prospective student, he told us that our mascot was the mighty Eagle, because Eagles Flock Together.

Y’all. Someone watched himself too much Mighty Ducks.

I replied, loud enough for the whole auditorium to hear, “That’s not true, sir. Eaglettes push their smaller and weaker siblings out of the nest as soon as they can.”

He looked to the staff for support, red-faced and embarrassed by this ninety-pound child who stole his thunder.

The biology teacher (who left for greener pastures after my first year--rumored to have been forced out for being too fabulously dykey for the new administration) looked at him and stated, in her very particular and crisp fashion, “Well, she’s right.”

Safe to say, he hated me from the start. So, if you read this and you wonder, “Why didn’t this silly kid just go to the grown-up?” That’s why. He was our grown-up.

Brother Dave started at the school the year before I did. He was brought in by a local Senator, because said local Senator Fucked Up Colossally.

Senator Fuckup was running against Mr. Sketchy Businessman. Mr. Sketchy Businessman was backed by the Ku Klux Klan (a big deal in parts of the world, folks. My school was in David Duke country.)

Senator Fuckup had a fancy name--well-respected all around the state. Like, several statues of one of his relations decorate the state capital. Big name.

Problem is, Senator Fuckup is half-Black.

In Klan Kountry.

Y’all.

So he’s already at a disadvantage. As it turns out, it takes a village to start a magnet school. Senator Fuckup was one of the founding board members, and promised all kinds of benefits if they put the school in HIS district.

Their other offer was in my own hometown, the Hub City, where several of our major state highways cross with two Interstates.A place with art and history and culture. A place with one of the largest outdoor music festivals in the state--a multicultural, international music festival! With art walks and museums and Mardi Gras parades! With a three-story library, a library for French language and culture, and the second-largest university in Louisiana!

Senator Fuckup PROMISED that the school wouldn’t want for anything if they went to Klan Kountry.

So they did.

It was no great secret that this school was Senator Fuckup’s baby. At the time that I attended, the school was number one in the nation. Something to be proud of.

Except.

Except.

Except that in order to keep various forms of funding, the school was required to take in more melanin-blessed individuals than the locals liked.

Enter Mr. Sketchy Businessman, who ran a series of TV and radio ads claiming that our STATE funded school was stealing money from the local school district.

That’s right. He claimed that our school took money away from the poor Whites of Klan Kountry and gave to the diverse and metropolitan school for the gifted.

Senator Fuckup tried to deflect and dismiss, BUT did NOT rebut those claims. He didn’t believe that the school’s funding was THAT MUCH of an issue.

Any reasonable person would understand that the school was funded from the State taxes. Right?

As it turns out, Klan Kountry is not filled with reasonable people.

Senator Fuckup is a member of a particular subgroup in Klan Kounrty--a not-insignificant population of Catholic Creoles. So, after he wins his election--barely--he realizes that Something Must Be Done to help the image of the school that everybody knew as HIS baby.

Enter his old friend, Brother Dave. Brother Dave, who nearly bankrupted his previous school. His brother-in-law was a contractor who got a few really juicy contracts through him.

Protip: Nepotism only works if the person being nepotized is competent.

Spoiler: Brother Dave’s brother-in-law built schools about as well as Brother Dave ran them.

Brother Dave’s old school is attached to an order of monks who build cheap and simple caskets for people who are into that kind of thing.

They bake bread for the poor. These are good people.

Y’all, these people made it KNOWN--statewide--that they had a casket ready for ol’ Dave if he ever stepped foot in their town again.

Still, Senator Fuckup decided that THIS was the man who would lead my school into a glorious future.

Brother Dave took an aggressive stance on admissions. He wanted kids who didn’t have a lot of drama, and kids who looked (WHITE) good on the recruiting materials. He pulled hard from the local Catholic (Segregation) Academies.

Y’all.

Our Black kids were nearly White-passing mixed-race kids, one kid who was ACTUALLY from Africa, a couple of kids from Catholic schools, and one dark-skinned Baptist girl who is bombshell model-gorgeous. (For those glossy brochures.)

So as many White Catholic kids as possible.

Y’all.

I’ve competed with private school fuckwits in academic contests my whole life, up to that point. If it was something that required preparation (science fair, for example), they wiped the floor with us.

Because daddy the petroleum engineer did the project for them.

If it was a you-know-it-or-you-don’t thing (quiz bowl, for example), they lost so brutally that I might have felt bad for them. You know, if they had souls. Which they did not.

So Brother Dave populated our school with what he thought were “good kids”. White, Catholic kids.

Spoiler: My class started with 250 students. We graduated less than half of that, even after he backfilled our class with new kids between junior and senior year. The class after mine was worse.

Why is that?

White Catholic kids at segregation academies in the late 90′s basically did busy-work worksheet stuff all day. They were not ready for 10 page papers and 5 page lab reports and 100+ pages of reading and 20-50 math problems and projects, projects, projects!

Also, if all you do is worksheets and sit-down-and-shut-up, there has to be a certain...chemical element...to cope.

So, yeah. Drugs. So much drugs. And booze.

Brother Dave also hired Nurse Bitchy Fuckface. She was actually his first hire.

Nurse Bitchy was a walking disaster.

I was sixteen when I first met her, and because she didn’t smell like street drugs (I KNOW WHAT THAT SHIT IS), I missed a lot of signs.

Looking back, I think that she might have been a Prozac-and-wine kind of person. But, as the only drugs that I was familiar with came from street pharmacists, I thought she was just evil.

Hateful to the queers, pagans, Goths, and all assorted weirdos.

You know, all the kids who could actually handle the schoolwork and the pressure. *eyeroll*

I’m allergic to Sudafed. Weird, huh?

A senior at my school told me to be careful with Nurse Bitchy. She has a sensitivity to acetaminophen (Tylenol) and couldn’t have it. Nurse Bitchy had given it to her a couple of times.

It was on my senior’s medical chart. If you’re keeping score, that’s felony attempted murder.

Nurse Bitchy gave me Sudafed seventeen times (that I remember) while I was at that school. She very nearly killed me doing it. Some times I knew, and some times I did not.

“But why did you take it, if you knew?”

Well, you innocent dove, if I refused to take the medicine that the Nurse gave me, then I got written up. Enough write-ups and I got kicked out.

My home school in the Hub City? Eh...as bad as Klan Kountry was, I didn’t have someone assaulting me daily. I didn’t have a gang of girls who got away with attempting to rape me with a broom handle. I didn’t have a very big kid who was given liberties with me (BY THE STAFF) because he was special ed.

Or, as my guidance counselor liked to say (after my father was murdered and I was flunking chemistry--not because of dad’s death, but because the chemistry teacher put all the girls and Black boys in the back of the class--which had NO air conditioning on hundred-degree days--after Brother Dave’s brother-in-law “fixed” it that summer), “Stephanie, you know that you’re the poorest student here. Do you really want to go back to THAT?”

No. I did not.

Under pain of going home to poverty, rape, assault, and maybe death, I took her poison. She watched me do it. And she smiled.

I only went to Nurse Bitchy when I was forced to. This happened far more often my Junior year. The teachers would send me because I was sick (I come from a smoker’s home, and I’m an asthmatic who is allergic to tobacco. My family never quit, so I’d end up with smoker’s pneumonia most times that I went home. Thanks for the lung scars, fam.)

Eventually, when I was a Senior, my computer science teacher realized that I was unresponsive with a fever in her class. She was new that year, and didn’t know any better. So she woke me up and sent me along. Nurse Bitchy gave me the usual and sent me back to class.

Very few humans retain the ability to projectile vomit after age seven. Did you know that?

Lucky me, I did. I still can.

I hurled all over my keyboard. I hurled and hurled. My classmates screamed and ran.

My computer science teacher, an ice-cold woman of Indian descent with a very posh English accent, unplugged the vomit-soaked, ruined keyboard. She took it and me to the nurse.

She slammed the keyboard down on her desk and screamed at her to NEVER send a sick child to her class again.

Nurse Bitchy was (shocking, I know) a racist. She feared the angry Indian lady.

My computer science teacher, I believe, spread the word about Nurse Bitchy’s ineffectiveness. Teachers stopped sending students to her.

That left a vacuum. Nobody was being forced to get medical help. But medical help was still needed.

Before going to school in Klan Kountry, I was a veterinary technician. I worked under-the-table from too young. Illegal-child-labor-too-young.

But, I knew my stuff. I had a stocked medicine cabinet and a dissection kit.

I started doing everything up to and including prison surgery in my dorm room.

I could handle most anything. Which was better than worrying that the nurse was going to poison one of my friends into the ground.

I didn’t ask for money or food or anything (food was a commodity at that school because our cafeteria was infested). I worked for the goodwill of my classmates, which is the shiniest coin in the realm.

I’d gotten into witchcraft earlier that year. People trusted the witch over the nurse. That’s where my school was.

I only had one case that I really couldn’t treat.

Y’all.

It was traditional in the girls’ dorms that unless you were asleep or studying, you kept your door open. Mine was open that night. I was writing Sailor Moon fanfiction, procrastinating on one project or another. I don’t remember, it was twenty-two years ago.

Ophelia Grace (not her real name) came to my door in Doc Martens, favoring a foot. Her roommate or a suitemate or maybe another theatre kid was holding her up as she hobbled into my room.

I hadn’t heard that she’d been hurt, but apparently she had been. She was feverish and weak. Her face was bright red. She was babbling.

“I’m sorry,” she said over and over again. She apologized for coming late. She apologized for coming at all. She was shaking.

I sat her and her friend on my roommate’s bed (we’d bunked them, and I had the top bunk). My roommate was out, in the art lab working on a particularly tricky painting. Probably for the best. He was squeamish (my ex-roommate is a transman, so I’m using his preferred pronouns.)

I grabbed a large bowl and a mug, filled both with water (salted the bowl of water), and went down the hall to the microwave.

The water in Klan Kountry was filthy. It smelled bad and tasted worse. Remember Mr. Sketchy Businessman? He wanted to relax EPA regulations for himself and his sketchy business friends.

They were actively dumping into the city reservoir. But Mr. Sketchy Businessman promised to KKKeep KKKlan KKKountry Lily, so he got 49% of the votes.

Racist douche.

I boiled the water in the microwave--first the mug, then the bowl. It was a walk I’d make several times that evening.

Ophelia had a fever, holding steady at “fucking HOT” by the estimate of her friend. My thermometer pegged it at 102. Not good.

I put a teabag and two whole cloves in the cup and let it steep while I took her temperature. I asked her what happened. I don’t remember the specifics of the injury, but I believe that something got dropped on her toe. I think it happened in the theatre.

Ophelia thought she could walk it off. I remember that.

She kept apologizing. I honeyed the tea and shoved it in her hands. The tea helped. She was shivering--hard--from the wracking chills of her fever.

I remember how her febrile shivers made the bunk beds shake.

I remember thinking that I was in over my head.

I remember grabbing my oldest towels, and closing my door.

I remember praying.

And then I took her boot off.

Y’all.

I’ve smelled rot. Some people think that all rot smells the same.

It does not.

Corpse stink has its own bouquet. Blood rot has a distinct stench. Necrotic yeast infections almost smell good--like yeast rolls and something meatier.

I’d smelled Ophelia’s particular rot before.

I was fourteen. A momma dog was brought in, heavily pregnant. She’d been delivering, and the third pup got stuck. There were 11 left. The stuck pup was dead, but we managed to save 4 behind him, plus the first 2, born healthy.

The uterus had begun to rot inside, and several of the pups had been dead for some time.

The spaying that happened after the pups were removed was green and black, with the consistency of pudding. We pulled as much out as we could, but the rest had to be rinsed out.

Thankfully, I’ve smelled that smell very few times after. It smells pungent and strong. Like garlic. Like a cream of garlic stew.

I thought I’d gotten a whiff of THAT smell when Ophelia walked in, and again when she sat down. Pulling her boot off was like the first deep cut into momma dog. Garlic and blood.

The smell of something rotting in someone still alive.

She had on two socks. I peeled off the first one. There was a stain at the toe. The second sock was worse. The smell hung around.

Our windows were screwed shut. I couldn’t do anything about the smell.

Ophelia cried into her tea. She was still apologizing.

The toe was purple and black. There was a lot of yellow pus under the nail, which was leaking out on either side. Red streaks ran up her instep, tracing her veins.

The toe was swollen and needed a lance.

I had no idea how she climbed the stairs to get to me. (I was on the third floor, and she lived below. We had no elevator.)

She started to get loud (peeling those socks off HURT), so I asked her a question. I asked about her history paper. The ten-page history paper was a rite-of-passage at the school, and I knew it was coming due for her. I told her to tell me about her topic and her sources.

She did.

Thank the Lord and Lady.

I got my dissection kit and rubbing alcohol. I made things as sterile as I could.

I told her that it would probably hurt, but that I would work quickly.

Her friend left after the first cut. She didn’t stay gone long, but I heard her vomit in our suite’s toilet.

Ophelia kept talking about her paper. I led her around on that topic, asking questions and asking for clarification. Asking about the books she’d read, and offering a few that I was familiar with on the subject.

This is why doctors and dentists know so many things about so many subjects. Talking keeps the patient calm.

Meanwhile, pus and blood dripped from the slits that I made in her flesh, onto a towel that bore the stains until I donated it to the animal shelter, years later.

I soaked her toe in the bowl of water. The salt burned, but she couldn’t scream.

There was an adult who was supposed to be watching us. If she was alerted to my low-tech medical unit, she would have stopped me and sent Ophelia to the murder nurse.

I filled another bowl, salted it, and microwaved it.

Ophelia’s friend rejoined us, and watched as I squeezed the rest of the pus out of her. Her toenail slipped off in the third bowl. The toenail was cracked. Ophelia kept it.

I wonder if she still has it?

Triple antibiotic ointment and a sterile dressing later, I told her to tell the nurse that she needed a doctor. Nurse Bitchy couldn’t keep us from a doctor if we asked for one. She said that she would.

I gave her a few oral anti-inflammatory pills and some Benadryl to get a good night’s sleep.

She left, with her boot in her hand and a soft smile on her lips. I cleaned my tools, my bowls, the floor where her foot was, and had to do a load of laundry because that one rag smelled so awful.

My roommate came back in time for headcount, and asked if I’d made ramen. Said it smelled pretty good in there.

It did. Rot can do that.

It was hard to sleep that night. I cried quietly until sleep took me.

Ophelia recovered. She became a witch some time later. In college, I think. We’re still friends, in a Facebook kind of way.

Brother Dave is still alive. After working for my school, he ended up helping the Church cover up three decades of sex abuse at a diocese school. Not sure what he’s up to, but probably nothing good. He’s a garbage human.

Nurse Bitchy just retired. She lasted twenty years at that school. God knows how.

Senator Fuckup died in a car crash and the school is being renamed after him. So are the new dorms that are being built.

Klan Kountry cleaned up their water after I left. That’s really good news.

The school continues. Apparently, it got better with Brother Dave’s leavetaking. I hope that’s true.

And me?

I’m still a witch. I’m still here.

And I can still smell that rotten toe on the edge of nightmares half-remembered.

~*~

I don’t want my diploma revoked or to be sued, so disclaimer time.

This is fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead is coincidental.