#i went to the library w my friend to work on my portfolio

[axiliern]

tim drake + bonus rotating tim ..........

[youreonlylow]

Hey ! Can you do a continuation of the story w Lucas borrowing Elliot’s jacket and Elliot is acting a bit odd ! Idk if you’ve already done it so I’m sorry if that’s the case ! ❣️

Hey! I haven’t done one yet but even if I had it’s no reason to apologize! I would have just linked it to you💕

It gets a little r rated in the end I hope you dont mind! It will be after the cut so you dont have to read it if you dont want to!

I’m planning on writing a third part to this later. Sorry if there are stupid mistakes I wrote this on my phone because I had a lot of time on public transport lol.

Part 1 

When Lucas returned home after a long day, he found Eliott’s apartment empty. Well, it was theirs now. Technically. They had moved in together a few months after getting together. Which was fast and stupid but after Manon permanently moved into the coloc he had offered her his room, he would move in with Eliott.

Normally Lucas wouldn’t think too much of it. Eliott often went to cafes or the library to work on assignments or meet up with his old friends he had reunited with.

Even the atelier was frequented when he had big art projects that took up a lot of space and time.

But Eliott had seemed a little off when Lucas had left him this morning. He quickly texted Eliott about where he was and if he would be home for dinner.

Lucas situated himself on the couch to relax before starting his homework or dinner. He hadn’t decided yet.

A few episodes of Rick and Morty later, Eliott still hadn’t responded. He decided to call him. The dial tone continued for a while and Lucas grew more and more worried. Finally, Eliott picked up.

“Hey, babe! Sorry I didn’t hear the phone I have music playing,” Eliott said the second he picked up, “Why are you calling me? I miss you!”

“I just wanted to know where you were… If you were going to be back for dinner?” Lucas replied cautiously.

“Yeah! What’s the time? I haven’t look at my phone since I got here, I am at the atelier!”

“It’s almost seven. When will you be finished for today?”

“I am almost done! Wait till you see this! The sketch I did this morning was nothing compared to how this painting will be!”

“Okay… Let me know when you leave, then I will cook something. Love you,” Lucas said.

“Yeah, definitely! I will! I love you, so much! Bye!” Eliott hung up.

Lucas looked at his phone as if it held the answers. He had gone through a manic episode with Eliott only once before since he found out about his bipolar disorder. He didn’t feel comfortable assuming that was what was happening since Eliott could just be in a good mood just like anyone else could. He wouldn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place, not really.

He waited an hour without any information from Eliott. He wanted to call him again but he also didn't want to smother Eliott. He knew where Eliott was and he was safe.

Twenty minutes later a text from Eliott came through.

I lost track of time and now I am so far I might as well finish it. Can’t wait for you to see it!

Lucas looked at the message and replied. He got up and made some easy dinner for himself and got started on his homework.

It got late and Lucas was really tired from school and a bunch of homework. The final year was draining him more than he liked to admit. He decided to go to bed and wait for Eliott there. A little nap was fine.

When he woke again the other side of the bed remained empty. He checked his phone. 00:36 it read. He was worried about Eliott. Sure, Eliott had a portfolio assignment but he wouldn’t stay that late would he? Lucas sent a text to Eliott but he got no reply. He decided to just go back to sleep since he had school in the morning.

He was woken up a few hours later by Eliott’s arms wrapping around him. Eliott kissed the nape of his neck. Lucas hummed but he was barely awake.

“Why are you back so late?” He mumbled out.

“I was working but I’m here now. With you.” Eliott whispered, his hands wandering, one down to the edge of Lucas’s boxers the other up under his t-shirt to his chest.

“Eliott… It’s late… I am tired,” Lucas said halfheartedly.

Lucas couldn’t help but react to Eliott’s touch. He knew he should just sleep since he had school tomorrow. But he had missed Eliott and he couldn’t deny that he wanted Eliott as well.

“But we haven’t seen each other all day… And seeing you in my jacket left me all excited…”

Eliott’s fingers danced around the edge oh Lucas’s boxers right were the leg meets the hip, knowing it’s a soft spot for Lucas.

Silently asking for permission. A small gasp left Lucas’s lips. Fuck it. He will just be tired tomorrow it’s fine.

“Okay.”

As soon as Lucas gave Eliott the green light his hand dived down.

“You know how many times I have had to get off today because of this morning? I can’t get it out of my head.”

Lucas moaned and let out a little laugh along with, “What? Do you want me to wear it next time?”

Eliott moaned loudly and bucked his hips against Lucas searching for some friction.

Lucas giggled at the reaction and Eliott let out a little chuckle as well.

Eliott’s hand disappeared and Lucas let out what was going to be a whine but it was smushed as Eliott reached over Lucas, pushing his body into the mattress, trying to grab the bottle of lube.

“Eliott. I am too tired for that. I don’t think my body can take it. Literally.”

“That is fine, that wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Lucas turned his head around to look at Eliott now that he had returned behind him. A question on his face. He could barely make out Eliott’s face but he was grinning. Probably.

To answer Lucas’s question Eliott simply slid a flat hand in between Lucas’s thighs. Looking Lucas in his eyes to get permission.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine.” Lucas smiled at Eliott who sent that sun-like smile back at him. It was gonna be messy and gross because Lucas knew he’d be too tired to shower after. He would just deal with it in the morning.

Eliott dragged down their boxers and started rubbing some lube between Lucas’s thighs. When he was done he put a bit more on his hand and wrapped it around Lucas. A steady pace building.

Eliott moaned as he slipped in between Lucas’s thighs. He matched the pace he had on Lucas.

Eliott was loud and Lucas not much better. It had been a while due to school work and their uneven schedules.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Eliott muttered out.

Lucas chuckled, “Yeah, I think I do if that thing between my thighs is anything to go off of.”

Eliott laughed a little, “I’m close,” he picked up the speed.

“Me too.”

The room filled with their moans and soon Eliott picked up the pace again.

A loud moan and the warmth that pooled between Lucas’s thighs let him know that Eliott had finished. Eliott then turned his attention fully to Lucas urging him on and Lucas soon followed.

After they finished, Lucas was exhausted. He could feel how sticky it was between his thighs and on the sheets in front of him, but he was too tired to do anything.

But Eliott got up and went into the bathroom. He returned with a hot damp towel and a fresh pair of underwear.

“Let me clean you up. It can’t be nice sleeping like that.”

Lucas opened his eyes and turned on his back. Eliott lifted off the covers and bent Lucas knees so he could get better access. The hot towel felt nice and once he was somewhat cleaned off, Eliott pushed a pair of boxers onto him.

“You okay?” Lucas asked, looking at the boy in front of him. Eliott crossed his arms and put them on Lucas’s knee, resting his head on them. A curious look on his face.

“I am great. Now sleep, you have school tomorrow.”

Lucas accepted the answer for now. If this continued he’d talk to Eliott. For now, he’d just let him be happy. He didn’t seem like he would do something irrational and potentially dangerous. At least not yet.

“You get some sleep too, it’s late.”

Eliott flipped the sheets, they would be washed in the morning.

He lied down next to Lucas, turning on his side to look at him. Lucas was already falling asleep. What a beautiful boy.

[jetbootcollection]

A Hero’s Vacation, Ch.2

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Characters: Marinette/Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir, Alya, Nino, OC(s)

Summary: Reuniting with an old friend goes about as wrong as it could.

Tags: Fluff, Self-Indulgent Fluff, Angst, No Romance (for canon characters), Gratuitous use of OCs, Headcanons Abound

Words: 7975

Chapters: 2/?

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

Nino liked hearing Alya talk. She had that perfect level of sass in everything she said and could make anything sound interesting. But this was getting ridiculous. Ever since that foreign hero had arrived in Paris, Alya had been scouring the internet for info on more heroes. And boy, did she find it.

By now Nino knew that there were heroes in Tokyo, Cairo, and Seattle, probably more he didn’t care to remember, along with then names of a dozen such heroes. For three solid days, Alya did nothing but info-dump about some new hero she had found. No one was safe from her overflowing knowledge, having even cornered Chloe into listening.

Marinette, usually the one to reign her in when she got going on about Ladybug, had done nothing to stop her. If anything, she had encouraged Alya to research Eagle and his teammates in the beginning stages. But now she was suffering alongside Nino and the rest of the school.

“The school should just hire her to teach a class. At least then we would have an excuse to not care.” Nino said while leaning back boneless in a library chair. The librarian had kicked Alya out enough times that this had become the official safe zone.

“Be careful what you wish for. I saw her carry a portfolio into the headmaster’s office, so she may have already asked.” Adrien said from across the table, trying to at least look busy reading a book to justify taking up a seat in the crowded library. Looking up to make sure his friend was not going to break his headphones in frustration at the news, he sees Amoux coming towards them.

“Sorry to overhear, but I agree. Alya needs to chill out.” His French was getting better and he was starting to pick up phrases. He sat down in the last remaining chair and began taking out his own work to do.

“Bro, I am so sorry for you. She’s been on you all day. How did you get away?” Nino asked, genuinely curious but trying to be subtle. Alya’s international superhero stint had started with Amoux, so of course she wanted to know more from the only person she knew with firsthand experience.

Amoux smirked as he explained his escape.

“It was not hard once I say ‘I do not know the words to describe him.’ I start talking in English and she lost interest. I was like, ‘Oh Alya you must understand, [Eagle is handsome and courageous like you wouldn’t believe. And huggable! Just look at those feathers and tell me you don’t want a piece of that.]’ She didn’t want to waste time translating, so she moved on.”

The boy seemed quite pleased with himself, making his English sound as close to Alya’s ramblings as possible. Adrien and Nino had caught on to his impression of her and found it hilarious. Not enough to laugh, because that would get them kicked out and put them at risk of another Alya lecture.

“Sounds to me like you have quite a lofty opinion of Eagle.” Marinette turned around in her chair behind Amoux. She too was hiding from Alya and, though she would never admit to it, had found a seat as close to Adrien as possible.

Amoux’s checks took on a pinker shade as he realized the girl had understood what he had said. Good thing he hadn’t said anything too revealing, or he wouldn’t be able to play it off so easily.

“W-Well, I do. He was the best Seattle hero.” He said, trying hard to not panic when he turned around to face her. This school’s English class was rudimentary but well balanced, so she would have the basics down if she paid attention. During his visit to her home he had noticed a pair of framed degrees from a baking school in London, so she might get some of it at home. Just how much English did she know?

Marinette read his face to mean something completely different.

“Don’t worry about it, Amoux. Thinking about your favorite hero that way is completely normal. I’m sure half of Paris would jump at the chance to steal a kiss from Ladybug.” Marinette assured him, her own checks darkening a bit. She only had eyes for Adrien, but her fans could be very passionate and she would be lying if she said she didn’t get anything out of the attention.

“Don’t forget Chat Noir. He’s quite the catch too.” Adrien offered. Compared to Labybug, he had fewer fans that were bold enough to make a pass at him. But when they did, they went all out. Too bad he only had eyes for Ladybug or he would be the most eligible bachelor in town.

“I hear you, dude. I wouldn’t mind a date with the Chat.” Nino said without thinking. The surprised looks from his friends made him quickly amend his statement. This was not how he wanted to come out as bi.

“He’s the coolest dude I know. A friendly date with a guy like that would be dope.” Nino tried not to shy away from it but failed. If the nervous look on Adrien’s face was anything to go by, he had weirded him out.

“E-Excuse me a minute.” Adrien said and he pushed out his chair and marched off to the library bathroom. Nino was decimated. He didn’t have feelings for his best friend. He didn’t want to lose him either.

“Oh man. I didn’t think he would be that much of a ‘phobe.” He said as he flopped onto the table, popping his hat off and nearly cracking his glasses. Marinette wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. Her parents might as well be saints, so she had grown up learning that people who rejected love based solely on gender were toxic and wrong. Adrien deserved the benefit of the doubt, but Nino deserved better than this.

“I do not believe that. Adrien is a very accepting person who respects the feeling of others, no matter what form they take. Him running away was likely because he thought you were expressing interest in him directly. It’s possible he was thinking of the clothing line he modeled recently, called ‘The Chat,’ which was inspired by Chat Noir himself, and made the association. Once he realizes his mistake he will return to apologize, happy that you no longer carry the burden of keeping that side of yourself a secret.” Amoux spoke calmly, almost hypnotically. There had been no pauses of thought. His French was impeccable.

The library was a quiet place by design, but the silence had deepened. Everyone within earshot had been listening in since halfway through the speech. Slowly but surely, they all went back to what they were doing but remained in stunned silence.

Adrien came back from the bathroom not a second later. He raised an eye brow at the sudden silent focus in the room. The librarian must have put her foot down.

“Man, it’s quiet in here.” Adrien whispered as he approached, unaware that he had indirectly caused it.

“Nino, listen. I’m sorry I bailed like that. There was this fashion line I modeled and-“ He didn’t get to finish before Nino got up to give his best friend a bro hug.

“Dude, it’s cool. Amoux explained it.”

“Explained what?” Adrien asked. Amoux had gone back to his book to not pull any more attention to himself. He looked a bit sheepish.

“I do not like doing that in public. But emergency times call for emergency measures.”

Being Eagle for so long meant that some of his powers came through even as a civilian, which meant he saw things that most people could not. It went beyond how people held themselves, eye movements, eating habits, stress responses. With a good memory and long enough observation, he could predict how people would react and know their reasoning.

This time, Amoux could not shake the feeling he had gotten lucky. Something about Adrien just didn’t make sense. There was an invisible wall in his mind pushing him back as he tried to look deeper. Despite his drive to develop his talents and desire to be able to read anyone right down to the core, something, some force, prevented him from wanting to pry into the matter.

Thinking about it, only one other person shared that trait. And she was sitting right behind him.

Sophia sat on a bench in whatever random art gallery Alex had dragged her to. In another life they would both have been artists, but Sophia enjoyed the creation process far more than the presentation. It was an overcast day in Paris with the clouds threatening to rain, so they had planned a day of indoor tourist activities. The two needed to fill time while their kwamis recovered from swimming and sprinting halfway around the world, so here they were.

Alex came back from wherever wing of the gallery she had wandered off to and sat down. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that her partner was on her phone in such a beautiful place.

“[Some pretty neat pieces in here. Makes me wish I had brought my sketch pad.]” Alex said wistfully.

“[It would have gotten warped from being in a backpack for so long. But check this out. The local superteam has a really great blog dedicated to them.]” She handed Alex the phone, which had done a decent job of translating the blog into English. Scrolling, she found an article that piqued her interest.

“[‘Heroes of the World’ huh? We might be featured in that.]”

Sophia leaned in to see. The article had a lot of slang that did not translate well, but was surprisingly well put together and researched for a fan-made article. Each hero had an expertly trimmed photo of them in an action pose at the top of a four-paragraph description of their powers and achievements. Finding her own, she liked what she saw.

“[‘Salmon becomes more powerful in water, making her a gift of god to America’s wettest city.’ I wouldn’t mind replacing my wiki page with this. Mine’s so stuffy and rigid compared to yours.]” Alex whined.

“[That’s the point of a wiki page, babe. Straight to the point and dense as hell.]” She did little gestures to emphasize her point, earning a giggle from her partner.

Alex went back to the main page of the blog and finds Eagle in all the thumbnails for the video posts that week. After watching a few, she hands the phone back to Sophia.

“[He’s been in two fights so far. One before we saw him on the news, and one last night.]”

“[Too bad we couldn’t make it to that one. I really want to see those kids fight in person. That Ladybug girl looks like she’s got a lot of spunk.]”

“[We need to find Eagle soon before we run out of money. Too bad we can’t predict when or where their next fight will be…]” Her voice slowed to a trickle as she realized what she was saying. Alex prayed that Sophia had not gotten the same terrible thought she had. Snapping to face her partner confirmed the presence of The Planning Smirk.

“[No. Nope. Nuh-uh. We are NOT going to stage an attack on Paris just to find Eagle.]” But it was too late. Sophia was already looking into her backpack to check up on her kwami. The Planning Smirk had grown to face-splitting proportions as she started giggling menacingly and hurrying to the exit.

“[Don’t you dare! Our visas don’t cover terrorism! Sophia! Stop! Come back here! SOPHIA!]” Alex shouted with growing worry as she chased her partner out of the gallery and onto the street, drawing concerned looks from the tourists they passed.

Sophia knew it was a bad idea. But she was planning to just knock over some small trees, maybe pop a gate off its hinges, make as small a mess as possible as dramatically as possible. She could hear her partner crying hysterics behind her as she ran. As she rounded a corner looking for a rundown park to vandalize, she caught a momentary glimpse of a black butterfly with purple highlights fluttering past.

“[Oncoor! Surf’s up!]” Out of everything her partner had yelled, this is what stopped Sophia in her tracks. She knew Alex was upset with her for charging into her plan without thinking it through, but surely not enough to transform in the middle of the street just to chase her down.

An inhuman roar of rage, followed by panicked screams, was as clear an answer as she had ever received in her live. Her partner was pissed.

Alex stomped around the corner, eyes engulfed in hot blue fire. Her transformation’s usual silver scales were now a vibrant white with orange patches, both tipped with black. Instead of her trident, she carried a pair of oversized fishhooks with some nasty looking barbs.

“[Salmon? Fishy Cakes? Look, I know you’re mad-]” Sophia took a few steps back.

“I’VE HAD IT WITH YOU! ALWAYS RUNNING AHEAD LIKE NOTHING COULD GO WRONG! LET’S SEE YOU RUN ONCE I GET MY HOOKS INTO YOU!”

“[Salmon? What are you saying!?]” She cried, instinctively turning to run.

“I’M KILLER KOI NOW! AND YOU! ARE! FISH FOOD!”

Sophia broke into a full-on sprint, thankful that her many years holding a Miraculous meant that some of her powers had started leaking into her civilian form. While not superhuman, she could out pace and out last Olympians. Her angry partner was no match for her speed normally, but was now keeping pace with some effort.

“[Help!]”

“This Eutectic Point, circled on the graph on page sixty-seven, is the point at which the mixed liquid phase and both the alpha and beta solid phases have the same energy. If we modulate the concentration of the beta phase, we can force all of the alpha phase into liquid form by keeping the temp-“ Ms. Mendeleiev was interrupted by the sound of a crumbling building in the distance and no less than seven phones getting an akuma alert.

Marinette took a deep breath and began her escape.

“Oh my gosh an akuma this close to the school! I gotta hide!” She screamed with a well-rehearsed look of panic plastered on her face. She didn’t care if her classmates thought she was a coward. With as many close calls she had experienced in her civilian form, she felt more than justified given the circumstances and would defend herself as such.

Alya didn’t even bother making an excuse and ran off. Adrien took advantage of her predictable behavior.

“Alya! You can’t just run off like that.” He said just loud enough that she would not hear as he ran after her. Another collapsing building echoed nearby, which got the rest of the class moving.

Some quick transformations later and Chat Noir was running along the rooftops with Ladybug swinging up from the street below. It didn’t take them long to find the akuma and the woman she was chasing.

“Wow, she can run.” Chat said as Ladybug threw her yoyo to swing down to save the woman. Grabbing her, she recognized the woman as one of the tourists they had helped.

“[I need a place to hide!]” She pleaded.

Ladybug could barely understand her through her distressed tone but swung back up to the rooftops.

“Chat!” Ladybug called to her partner while she pointed to a stairwell door, not wanting to verbally give away her plan. They got to the door at the same time and closed in behind them as softly as they could to not draw the attention of the akuma. The tourist put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“[Do you know why the…um, monster, attacked you?]” Ladybug asked, searching for a word to use for ‘akuma.’

“[She…was mad…that I left her behind.]” She said between panting. Ladybug quickly translated for Chat.

“That seems like a lame reason to get akumatized.” He said with suspicion. This tourist was recovering surprisingly fast from having just set a land speed record, he noticed. Ladybug elected not to translate it back.

“[Alright, I’m ready. Let me just get my work clothes on.]” She said to a confused Ladybug. Surly she had misheard.

“[Itippa! Full steam!]” A brown streak flew from her backpack to her ear and she erupted into light. A second later, the tourist had been replaced with a masked hero much like themselves. She wore a skin-tight suit made of brown velvet, over which she wore a crop top leather jacket and a wide belt that was buckled with a large brass cog. Old fashioned welding goggles sat on her forehead in front of the stubby beginnings of antlers. Attached to her wrists were a pair of brass hooves that could flip down to cover her hands.

“Much better. We need to be careful with this fight. She’s pissed, but she’s still my partner. I’m Moose, by the way.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir stared in shock at how openly another Miraculous holder had just transformed in front of them and seemed to instantly learn their language.

“You kids alright? All I did was…ooooh. Right. Should probably explain that.” The French heroes nodded, wanting to know more.

“I don’t mind transforming in front of you guys. You don’t know my name and only know I’m from America. Go ahead and try guessing my identity. As for how you can understand me, active Miraculous holders can always understand each other. Learned that one on a trip to Mexico City. I’m actually still speaking English.”

She sure was talkative and it was a lot to take in, but they were used to weird things happening around them. When you fight people that use powers ranging from anti-love to pigeons, strange becomes the new normal.

“So that means Eagle doesn’t actually speak French.” Chat concluded.

“No, Eagle was French to begin with. You would think his suit was meant to be all patriotic, but it’s actually the French flag. How is my little fledgling, anyway? He’s why we came to Paris and…and why Salmon got mad at me…” She deflated a bit.

“I wanted to fake an attack to draw out Eagle. Just big enough to raise the alarm, then put everything back when he arrived. I didn’t think Salmon would get mad enough to corrupt her Miraculous.” Moose apologized. She absently rubbed her hands together, clinking her hoof guards occasionally.  

“It was Hawkmoth that did it. He sends out evil butterflies to make people his minions by amplifying their negative emotions. All we have to do is find what object the akuma is hiding in and break it.” Ladybug explained. It felt weird having to explain it after so much time dealing with akumas. But here she was, explaining for the second time this week.

“Do you know of anything that she was holding that would be important to her?” Chat continued where Ladybug had left off.

“The earring on her left ear is fake. I made to match her Miraculous to even out her look so she wouldn’t have to take it off all the time to not look lopsided. It was an anniversary gift, so I’d say that’s pretty important.” Moose said while stepping back out onto the roof, boots clinking as the brass hoofprint on her heels met the surface. Killer Koi was nowhere in sight, but the angry roar being carried on the wind pointed them in the right direction.

Chat Noir’s ears had perked up, interested in the implied relationship.

“Anniversary? Are you two…“ He could not help but ask as he built up momentum to cross to the next roof.

“We’re married, yes. The superhero program is legally a scholarship for a university that doesn’t exist, so we get more money if we’re married. Might as well elope, right? So we did what any pair of dishonest scholarship elopers would do and played along with the pet names, hugs, backrubs, little kisses, stuff like that. A couple months in we realized it was real and we never looked back.” It was clearly a story she liked to tell.

Ladybug could practically hear the wheels spinning in Chat’s head, even over the sound of her yoyo chord. She knew full well that he was going to redouble his flirting now that he had evidence of partners-in-justice becoming more.

Chat Noir, to his credit, did not immediately launch into a flurry of pickup lines.

Amoux had a hard time finding a place to transform. His classmates had so much more experience finding the nooks and crannies in the school building that he gave up and found an alley way instead. Scanning for any open doors or windows, he opened his bag to poke at a snoring ball of feathers.

“[Avees, wake up.]”

“[Hero time? Bit early. Sun’s still up.]” Avees stretched with a tiny yawn.

“[New city, new hours. Now get it in gear and let’s go.]” With that little pep talk, the tiny eagle lazily floated out of his bag on outstretched wings. One more yawn and Avees nodded that he was ready.

“[Avees! Wings up!]” He whisper-yelled, lifting his arms as if taking his own command. The kwami became a black streak as it shot towards his collar.

Unlike any other hero he had met, Amoux had found his Miraculous at a young age. He and Avees were coming up on their tenth year together. The kwami had explained to him that transformations become more and more complete over time, with total transformation into an eagle taking a lifetime to happen. Changes in form happened in stages, and he was on the third stage. While each stage became more powerful, most Miraculous holders freaked out and/or retired before they got too far. Learning how to shoot his bow using heavily modified feet had been tricky but worth it for the magical accuracy that came with it.

As Amoux became Eagle, his arms melted away to become wings. He flapped to get off the ground before his feet became talons. Not long after, he knees bent backwards. The familiar sensation of feathers growing all over his body was accompanied by the sudden weight of a quiver on his hip. Taking a moment to adjust to his altered anatomy, he hears the telltale sounds of destruction becoming more distant.

Eagle gives an almighty flap of his wings to shoot out of the alley way and into the air. He surveyes the damage done by the latest akuma victim, flying wide circles over the destruction. Following the warpath carved through Paris, he quickly finds a university aged woman wearing a competition swimsuit with white fish scales running a quarter of the length of each limb. The glint off the sharp point of one of her fishhooks nearly blinds his sensitive eyes.

Remembering the unfortunate habit of his old teammate’s trident doing the same thing gave him a rattling thought.

“I guess all super powered fish like to make my eyes sizzle.” He said to himself with closed eyes, dreading the idea of having to fight someone with Salmon’s powers. His quiver vibrated to signify an incoming call, saving him from the terrible thought. But wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous belonged to a completely different set. How could they be calling him?

Kicking the bottom of the quiver to accept the call, a screen extended on a telescoping rod to give him a better angle on it.

“Hey, Eagle. Long time no see.” Moose said through the phone, the background of the video call a rapidly bobbing horizon. Her voice was bright but her nervousness was palpable. Eagle flinched hard enough to send himself into a tailspin.

“What are you doing here?! Whose covering Seattle?”

“Earthquakes don’t happen every day, you know. We can go on vacation without the city falling into the sea…again.” The gasp behind Moose told him that she at least had Ladybug with her. But there was no ‘the second time wasn’t my fault’ in the background. Salmon took every opportunity to defend her honor whenever the Great Floods came up in conversation.

“…Moose, where’s Salmon?” He squinted at the screen. Not to read her face, but to convey his suspicion.

“About that…You got eyes on the fish monster thing?”

Eagle turned to confirm he had not lost his target. He did not like where this conversation was going.

“That’s Salmon.”

Moose closed the phone built into her hoof guards to the sound of a continues string of colorful curses. She knew that Eagle was going to give her a stern lecture once this all blew over.

“You get the location from him?” Chat asked.

“No, but I can practically hear him splitting quills from here. Hang a right.” She kicked off a chimney to make the turn, knocking off a layer of loose mortar.

“We need to keep her out of the river. Call the police and have them set up a two-block perimeter along the north bank. I’d do it myself, but they would probably prefer a hero they know speaking actual French.”  Moose continued. Ladybug rolls her eyes as she pulls up the one cop on her contacts list she was on a first name basis with. So much for the ground rules.

“Officer Roger, it’s Ladybug. I need a huge favor…” She didn’t seem confident it would happen.

“Local police that bad, huh?” Moose asked Chat.

“It’s more like we don’t have the authority. The police set up barricades how they want, usually to protect landmarks.”

“Europe is weird.” That was all Moose had to say about that.

“I know, right? Ladybug can fix anything once the fight is over, so I don’t see why they bother.”

“I take it back. Europe is awesome!” She had been wondering how Paris repaired things so fast.  

A few rooftops later, Ladybug had finished her call. It was only then she realized how far ahead she was. Moose was dragging behind, with Chat keeping her pace to be a gentleman.

“Something wrong? I get it if you don’t want to fight your wife, but we need to get going.” She could see Eagle circling in the distance. The akuma must have traveled halfway across Paris by now.

“She needs me. You couldn’t keep me out of this fight if you tried. I’m just not used to these super even rooftops. I usually use the kickplates mounted on the sides of skyscrapers to get around. Or run on the street in the bus lane. Whichever’s faster.” Moose hid her jealousy of the tools at the French heroes’ disposal. All she could so was punch, kick, and headbutt things real hard. Great for sending stuff into orbit, not so great for getting around town.

“Well, isn’t this interesting. I’ve never had the pleasure of bringing a Miraculous holder under my wing.” Hawkmoth said to Killer Koi through the pink laser mask that appeared in front of her face. It had taken far too long to establish a link with his newest minion.

“Shut up, old man. I’m not here to go your dirty work for you.”

He pecked through her surface memories, looking for something to use. Alone in his lair, he grimaced when he found that she was gay. Hawkmoth chose his words carefully.

“It seems you’ve had a bit of a lover’s quarrel. She will surely have enlisted Ladybug and Chat Noir to her side by now. You will need to disable them by removing their Miraculous if you want to level the playing field.” He offered as advise, exerting as much of his control through the link as he could without resorting to inflicting pain. Miraculous holders were resistant and strong willed, it seemed, and could not be outright commanded to do his bidding.

“…Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.” The laser mask faded as she went back to raining havoc upon the city.

She had lost sight of Sophia ages ago. That girl could be anywhere by now with that super speed she liked to brag about so much. Might as well keep destroying stuff to draw her out. She was about to leap up to smash an out of place red windmill when the cavalry arrived.

“If you wanted to see the Moulin Rouge that badly, all you had to do is ask.” Moose flirted as she did a perfect three point landing across the street. Despite the serious atmosphere, Ladybug couldn’t help but groan. Chat was taking mental notes, she just knew it.

“Just you and two shoobies? You really think you can stop me?!” Killer Koi challenged as she threw a fishhook at Moose. Thinking fast, Moose flicked her hoof guards into place and punched the hook. The hook was heavier than she thought it would be, stopping dead with a deafening metallic clang instead of being rebounded. And the force behind it just kept coming.

Maintaining the punch meant she was vulnerable to the leaping overhead smash coming down on her. She would have taken the hit had Chat Noir not extended his staff to knock Killer Koi out of the air.

Furious at the interference, she threw her other hook into a vicious spin along the ground to swipe Chat’s feet. The terrible sound of metal scraping pavement shot through his sensitive ears that were already ringing from the sound of the first hook, paralyzing him. Ladybug tackled him out of the way, landing on top of him in an all too familiar position.

“Oh, My Lady, how the tables have turned.” He said more out of habit than flirting. Seeing the spinning hook boomeranging back at them, he flipped Ladybug over his head to swap their positions to dodge.

“That’s better.” This cat never knew when to stop.

Ladybug heard Moose say something about how smooth he was under her breath as she sidestepped out of fending off the hook, sending it careening into a storefront before returning to its master. Pushing Chat off of her by his chin, Ladybug stood up to assess their strategy. There was no reason to drag out this fight.

Killer Koi wound up another attack but her balance was thrown off by two arrows clinking against her hooks. Up above, Eagle nocked another arrow but was hesitant to fire again.

“It’s unlike you to hold your shots.” Moose called up to him.

“Let’s see you shoot at a friend.” He answered in frustration, making Moose flinch.

Ladybug could tell that the longer the fight went on the more emotional damage would be done. This needed to end now, for the sake of their friendship.

“Lucky Charm!” Throwing her yoyo into the air to summon a helpful tool, she was caught off guard when a simple plank of red and black spotted wood appeared about her. Catching it as it fell into her arms she nearly dropped the cooked fillet of fish on top of it. It smelled heavenly.

Moose recognized the fillet for what it was. Depending on how badly her partner had been corrupted, it would either serve as the perfect bait or enrage her into a blind charge. Either way, it would make for the perfect trap. Stepping over to Ladybug, she took the fillet before the younger girl could find a way to use it.

“I’m gonna lead her into a trap with this. Be ready to hold her.” Before the French heroes could react, she was already down half way down the street. At least this time she had a plan.

“Honey! Look at this delicious grilled salmon I’ve got! I’m gonna eat it. All. By. My. Self.” She held the plank above her head as she taunted Killer Koi with it.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!” The flames burning from her eyes went from blue to white, doubling in size. Embedding her hooks in the pavement, she charged.

Moose nodded back to the younger heroes, who had taken up positions to grab the akuma. She ran back to them, fillet held high, in a wide arc to keep Killer Koi from seeing the trap until it was ready to be sprung. Depositing the plank on the ground between Ladybug and Chat Noir, Moose jumped high so she would land behind her partner.

Killer Koi ungracefully dove to grab the fish, clamoring to her knees to begin eating like a starved animal. Chat grabbed an elbow and Ladybug followed suit.

“Hey! I was eating that! It’s mine!” She struggled against them but the held firm. Realizing she had no safe way of breaking the earring without giving her partner a super powered love tap to the side of the head, Moose went with the only alternative she could think of. Grabbing Killer Koi’s head from behind, she twisted to present the left ear to the sky.

“Eagle! The earring!”

“I can’t do that! It’ll take her whole ear off!” His arrows were larger than the target. Collateral damage was inevitable.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” It was taking all her might to hold her partner still.

Eagle steeled himself for what he had to do.

“Eagle Eye!” Activating his ability, the arrow nocked on his bow glowed as he drew the string.

Chat blinked. Something warm splattered on his gloved hand. An arrow was sunk into the street up to the fletching, a black butterfly fluttering out of the small crater. The woman he was restraining went limp as dark purple smoke rolled over her.

Ladybug made quick work of purifying the akuma.

“Pssh ow ow ow ow ow.” Alex held the icepack to her ear. She had fainted after the fight and was only now waking up after several hours. Her memory of her time as Killer Koi was foggy, but she remembered enough.

“[That’s it, I’m going to a different salon for piercings.]” She joked as she sat up in the bed she had been deposited in. Sophia was napping with her head in her lap, curled up to where her body had been.

Looking around she saw a sizable and well-furnished room, much fancier than the hotel they had been staying at. The seal of the United States Embassy hung on the wall above the dresser opposite the bed. A set of passports and visas sat on the night stand next to nearly empty bowls of almonds and chocolate.

“[Morning, beautiful.]” A sleepy Sophia said from her lap. She would have leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead if a small gray mermaid had not flown into her face.

“[Girl, don’t scare me like that! You got hurt so bad that I-I…]” Oncoor burst into theatrical tears. Alex pet the mermaid with her free hand.

“[Whole ear’s still here. See? It just stings.]” She pulled away the ice pack momentarily, feeling her cold ear to make sure she wasn’t lying. It was painful, but intact.

“[You can thank Ladybug for that. They should be back to meet us in the lobby soon.]” Sophia said while checking the time.

“[Back from where?]” Alex wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she thought at least one of the French heroes would have stayed.

“[Turns out all three of them still go to school. I’m starting to wonder how old Eagle is.]”

Sophia stretched and wiggled her way to the edge of the bed to stand up.

“[We need to suit up. Ambassador Zeya wanted to talk to you.]”

Two transformations and an escort to the ambassador’s office later, they were informed that they were not in any legal trouble. Zeya made it clear that Salmon was the victim. Once that was settled, they were taken to the lobby to wait for the other heroes to arrive. No less than four guards joined them.

“[Are the bodyguards necessary? I’m pretty sure we can defend ourselves if need be.” Salmon wondered aloud as she sat down.

“[No offence, Agent Salmon, but you just leveled a quarter of Paris. The citizens of this city are quick to forgive, but they’ll need time to feel safe again. You will be under observation for the time being.]” Said the shorter and burlier guard. Salmon wanted to sink through the floor.

“So this is what you look like.” Chat Noir said as he and Ladybug carried Eagle in through the front door and sat him down in a chair, resting his legs on the table. Eagle was used to such treatment, having attended press conferences at indoor venues. Being carried was more dignified than being pushed around on a cart, at least.

“How’s the ear?” Eagle asked once he was situated.

“Stings real bad, but getting better. From what I remember it was not an easy shot. Good to see that you’re not getting rusty in your retirement.” She readjusted her swim cap to stop it from pressuring her ear.

“And you, Little Miss Polka-Dot, deserve a hug for fixing it.” Salmon lifted a startled Ladybug as she stood, spinning the girl around before losing her footing and tumbling over. Her balance was still recovering.

The heroes talked well into the night, sharing stories of daring-do. After a competitive game of ‘My Supervillain Could Beat Up Your Supervillain’ the guards stepped in to ask them to head home.

“Right. I’ve still got an essay to finish. How long will you be in town?” Ladybug asked, getting ready to carry Eagle outside.

“At least a day or two. Need to do some community service to recover Salmon’s PR.” Moose said. They hadn’t checked the news yet but it would take a major, earthshattering headline to overshadow Salmon’s brief conversion to the dark side.

They said their goodbyes before being escorted back to their room by a very confused looking pair of guards.

Agent Dunn had seen more than his fair share of strange occurrences in his time at the embassy. Paris had become rife with oddities in recent years, not to mention the bizarre customs of foreign dignitaries that he was assigned to protect.

This night had been particularly strange. It was unprofessional to do so, but he needed someone to talk about it with.

Once his shift was over, he pulled one of the other guards that had shared his assignment aside. Agent Duncan seemed to share his desire to discuss the matter. They talked in hushed whispers as they made their way home.

“[I never thought I would see the day when keeping tabs on five teenagers in furry getup would be official business.]”

“[No kidding. And what were they speaking, anyway? Sounded like French but it was all English words.]”

“[It sounded like English with French words to me.]”

“[They must have some techo-magic-whatever doing it. Except for that Eagle guy. He stuck with one language at a time.]”

“[But did you see his knees? I get that bird knees are backwards but that has got to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen.]”

They continued on like that all the way to the Metro station.

Marinette was late to class the next morning. Not by much, but enough to get a sideways glance from Miss Bustier. They had come to an informal agreement to let it slide if the lecture had not started yet, allowing for about forty seconds of grace period once the bell rang. Unlike most students with truancy issues, Marinette actually tried to be on time.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, please pass your Voltaire essays to the front.”

Mainette’s throat went dry. The essay was on her desk at home, forgotten in her scramble to make it on time. Miss Bustier read her like a book and sighed.

“Marinette, we can’t keep doing this. If it’s not on my desk by the end of the lunch break, you will have failed the assignment.”

She felt small, wanting nothing more than for the lesson to begin so her classmates were not focused on her failure to remember things. Chloe had other ideas and pounced.

“You might as well give up now, Marinette. No fashion designer would ever hire someone as flaky and incompetent as you.”

She knew that she shouldn’t let Chloe get to her. But those words hurt. It took everything she had to keep herself from crying. Alya rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder but it didn’t help.

The sound of wood scraping tile behind her startled her from the downward spiral she was feeling.

“Adrien. I need your desk.” Amoux commanded as he stomped down the steps. He had watched these girls for some time now, wanting them to sort it out for themselves. But he’d had enough. Adrien had just managed to pull his note pad to the side before he hopped up to sit on the desk, facing Chloe so he was looking down at her.

Amoux closed his eyes and looked upward as he took a long breath. Snapping down to look Chloe right in the face, he opened his eyes and began to read every aspect to Chloe’s being.

It was the most piercing gaze Miss Bustier had ever seen. She knew she should take control of the situation, but a small part of her wanted to see what was about to happen. Rumors of his skill had reached the teacher’s lounge. He was said to work wonders.

Chloe froze, unable to break away from him once he had locked eye. The anticipating silence in the room had become electric, as if lightning could strike any moment. When Amoux spoke, his voice flowed like warm water, washing over everyone listening.

“Why do you do this? What joy do you derive from the despair of others? Has it truly been so long since you have felt loved that this has become your only source of happiness?” His voice was even, calm, and slow, without a hint of the anger that had initiated this forced therapy session.

“I-I don’t know what you mean. Daddy l-l-loves me.” Chloe stammered. Her face ran through a sea of emotions, betraying her racing thoughts. She could feel his eyes bore through her mind. The more she resisted, the more was brought to bear as she tried not to think of certain memories.

“You used to be such a sweet little girl. You lived with your loving mother in a small apartment away from your father, having been too young to remember the divorce. She was your guiding light. If not for her death, she would have become a shining beacon of hope for all of Paris. You were sent to live with your father, who knew nothing of raising children. He showered you with gifts but could do nothing to ease your pain.”

Marinette could feel her dark emotions flow out of her. It was as if Amoux’s voice had washed a thick layer of mud off her bones and poured it back into Chloe.

“Months passed. You constructed a mask of money to hide the pain you felt, buying your way out of your problems as your father did. Any friendships you had were twisted into relationships of abuse. You watched yourself become a wretched person and could do nothing to stop it. In time, you came to believe the mask was the true Chloe.”

Chloe faltered under the weight of the critique, a single choked sob escaping her throat. Yet she could not look away, as if held in place by an invisible hand.

For a brief moment, Amoux considered stopping there, leaving Chloe to fend for herself in the bottomless pit of emotions he had hurled her into. But he could see the gentle soul within her, buried under a decade of guilt and loneliness.

“You had nearly forgotten what kindness was until a hero appeared. Ladybug reminded you that it was possible, even pleasant, to give yourself freely to others. Memories of your mother came flooding back to you, taking you back to a time before the money had made you cruel. For the first time in years, the mask slipped. You saw what you had become and hated yourself for it. Not knowing what to do, you put the mask back on and tried to forget. But it kept slipping. Just last night, you cried yourself to sleep from the regret of what you had done.”

Chloe did not know when she started crying, but her tears had washed away the makeup that hid the dark circles under her eyes caused by a restless night.

“You want to be a better person, someone you mother could be proud of. That is why you focus so heavily on Marinette, hoping to learn from her example. You see so much of your mother’s kindness in her that it hurts. Nothing would make you happier than to be her friend. But the mask is not easy to remove. On days you manage to show your true face, you can’t bring yourself to even look at her. You remember how you have tormented her and put the mask back on to save yourself from being crushed by the regret.”

Marinette could feel her heart explode with sympathy. She didn’t know how she was going to forgive Chloe for the last four years, but she was willing to try.

Amoux released his gaze and his hold on Chloe, who fell out of her seat into the aisle. By the time she hits the floor she is bawling. After a few seconds of trying, the first thing she did once she got a leg under her was to throw herself up the steps to Marinette’s bench. Chloe looked up at the girl with wet eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette. I just wanted what you had. That selfless kindness…it was too beautiful to watch.” It was the most genuine thing Marinette had ever heard her say. Seeing Chloe humble herself like that made her heart explode a second time. She slid down to the end of the bench and lifted Chloe into a tentative embrace, letting her cry.

“You have a long way to go before you become the person you want to be. Marinette can show you the way, but only you have the power to change yourself for the better.” Amoux concluded as he walked around the girls to return to his desk. Sabrina made her way over to comfort Chloe, hugging her around her midsection.

Miss Bustier could not believe what she had witnessed. In the span of seven minutes, Chloe had gone from a textbook example of a bully to a sobbing apologetic mess. In the years she had taught this class she had been powerless to do anything about the mayor’s daughter in fear of losing her job, or worse, getting the school shut down. But here was this boy, breaking her down and building her back up with a gentle ferocity.

“…Right, the lesson. Um…Never mind. Please read the next chapter for your homework tonight. Class dismissed.” Amoux was a tough act to follow.

It took a moment for the class to realize that they could leave. It took a moment longer for them to decide if they wanted to leave. Miss Bustier had to motion to the door to get them going. Once most of the students had shuffled out, she got to work dealing with the aftermath.

“Amoux, Chloe. You should come with me to the headmaster’s office. You can come if you want, Marinette. And Alya, I would like you to delete the video you just recorded. I don’t even know if you did or not, just delete it.”

Alya gave no protest as she ended the livestream and deleted the recording.

  Author’s notes:

-So, Alex and Sophia are kinda based on my friends whom I ship IRL. (Don’t worry, they were thrilled when I clued them in about being superheroes. Jury’s still out on the shipping)

-I make no claim of understanding for how embassies work. Like a hotel with more security?

-It felt incredibly good to destroy Chloe like that.

-Chapter 3 is a definite MAYBE. posted.

<<Chapter 1 , Chapter 3>>

[141-point-12]

i miss our foxhound high boys... i just want them to be happy /w\

Ahhh! Me too, anon! I have a little something unfinished in the works, but at the moment I have my hands full with working on the Otasune zine as well as some SURPRISE fun family stuff (everyone is okay, it’s just demanded time and energy). But hopefully I’ll be able to turn my attention back to it and we’ll have a cute little fluff piece to enjoy.

That being said- I hope you don’t mind if I talk a little bit about this HS AU and that kind of AU in general for a bit? 

To be honest, it was a few years ago that I realized not only was there no HS/College/Domestic type AU for MGS- but that overall, there were very few developed AUs in general! (I mean whole AUs as opposed to just ‘what if character X didn’t die’.) I found a few fragments on blogs and stuff, but nothing that I’d consider a whole ‘universe’ or anything. I’m really glad that’s changed now, and that the fandom seems to be enjoying them. After all, when the last entry in a franchise is 2 years old (or closer to 9 if you’re a ‘New Testament’ fan) you have to mix it up a little to keep things fresh! 

Foxhound High has become a favorite ‘pet project’ of mine, because it’s a fun and convenient outlet for a lot of nostalgia. (Because yes, I’m old and I went to high school in the 90′s.) I’m one of those people who had a really positive high school experience (I had the chance to leave for college early, even, but decided it wasn’t the right move for me). This wasn’t because I was particularly popular, or athletic or the darling of any particular club- I just had a tiny group of very good friends who were into the same nerdy crap I was, so whatever was going on in the rest of the school really didn’t matter.

I never went to a high school football game, but I did stay after school in the library making fun of the young adult romance novels. I didn’t win any yearbook superlatives, but while working on my AP art portfolio I did make a giant canvas twister mat and had people play on it with paint on their hands and feet. I never went to a ‘party’ like you see in the movies, but we did celebrate the date of second impact by eating 800% of our daily recommended sodium with an instant ramen party.

I think there are a lot of stories to be told that are unique to a high school setting. High school is sort of that strange in-between time in people’s lives when they’re constantly being told to ‘act like adults’ while often still being treated like children. There is so much structure to the life of a high schooler, between the daily regimen of classes and clubs, to whatever demands come from their parents, to trying to adhere (or reject) social conventions. Once you get to college, pretty much all of that goes out the window (which is usually a refreshing, if bewildering change). But because there is all that structure, I think there are a lot of interesting ways to explore the way characters have to navigate through all these restrictions in order to let their individual personalities express themselves. (Add to that the added confusion that most teenagers are still trying to figure out just what those personalities are, and you have another added level of conflict!)

In the case of things like dealing with topics like prejudice and homophobia etc, the environment is completely different between high school, college, and adult life. Being in an ‘enclosed’ environment with the same student body day after day (often at least partially one you have known since grade school) and having to report routinely to parents makes for a completely different scenario than having a private dorm room at a school you probably had some say in selecting (thereby affecting how conservative/liberal it is). I’m not saying there aren’t stories to be told in that environment, or that high school stories are better, but they are different.

[myipscrapbook]

PLAQUE HUNT 2K17

After IPPP w Jennifer metsker, I gathered supplies... Lots of large newsprint sheets, masking tape, and my trusty graphite block, packed up in my portfolio, and went down to central around 2:30pm. It was time to do some plaque hunting.  

Between 2:30pm and 7:00pm, I gathered plaques. First were the two art deco plaques flanking the fountain sculpture besides Burton Tower. Two older men stopped to look at the plaques I was rubbing, whispered to each other and looked at me, but when I said hi, they both grunted and walked off. That was the closest to an interested/concerned reaction I got from anyone the whole rest of the day. 

The next plaque was the Native American Land Gift plaque. This is the plaque whose story really got me interested in plaques on campus, and their significance, and the value in noticing and interrogating what they write about. This plaque in particular relates to the nature of our founding in 1817, and perhaps our original sin as a university, the displacement of native peoples who lived here first. (See: Stumbling Blocks Exhibit)

^Stumbling Blocks exhibit last year. A Plaque for a Plaque. 

After that, I wandered closer to the center of campus. I walked by the diag and down to south university, under the engineering arch. There are quite a few plaques under and around this, but they all sort of said the same thing, and they weren't that interesting to me.

I got coffee and a muffin from espresso royale on south U, and then decided, hey, I'll do the Astronauts plaque right here. (it's not actually called the Astronauts plaque, but that's what it is.) It's amazing how much I catalogued these plaques in my memory over the past 4 years. I already had an intuition as to which plaques I most wanted to record. This one was one of them.

Then I walked back towards the diag. I recorded a strange Anvil plaque, and a Memoriam plaque for a bench.

Then I navigated to the Four Professors Monument... A monument that is tucked behind the library, off the beaten path, in plain sight but always overlooked. It commemorates the lives of 4 professors who died at around the same time, during the early years of the university. Back when the university was very small... Can you imagine 4 faculty deaths in near proximity?

This monument is interesting because the four plaques that grace the sides of it, the ones carved into marble in latin, wearing away... those four plaques each have newer metal plaques beneath them, as translations. These plaques have plaques. These plaques are becoming unreadable both in language and in literal typographic legibility, and so they need new plaques to say what they already say.

( What does it mean to be remembered? What does it mean to fade away despite the effort to be remembered? The scariest thing I learned when working on the Bicentennial Time Capsule is the fact that even digital information erodes away with time. Nothing lasts. Not without maintenance. Can memories receive maintenance? How are plaques like memories? In the way they fade? In their incompletion? How are they not? In the way they are crafted, designed, after the fact?)

Then I went up the steps of Hatcher and laid out two large newsprint sheets over the University of Michigan Seal. The what the seal itself says isn't so interesting; it's what it used to say. You see, this plaque has been EDITED. I only noticed this last week. The date, 1817, is actually a separate piece of metal installed into the original plaque. That's because it originally said 1837. 

These links explain why:

The Sculptor of the Seal: https://www.lib.umich.edu/grad/showcase/art/exterior/seal.html  1817/1837 Backstory: http://michigantoday.umich.edu/wait-when-did-the-university-start Historical Maps: http://umhistory.dc.umich.edu/mort/original/1925/1925.html  Original Old Library: http://www.annarbor.com/neighborhoods/um-campus/all-that-remains-are-the-stacks/ 

Then I made a rubbing of the Tappan Oak plaque. What I love about this plaque is the fact that all 40-something students at the university at the time each planted a tree of their own around Tappan's tree. Can you imagine every student today planting a tree? It would make a FOREST.

This University, that calls itself the leaders and the best, was at one point, scrappy and uncertain of its future. It was in the middle of nowhere, further west than most young college students cared to venture to. It was an experiment.  

Then, I made a rubbing of the circular War Canon monument plaque, behind the museum.

(What was the “War with Spain”??)

After that, I made a rubbing of the Bicentennial Tree Plaque, which I witnessed being planted last year. 

^April 2017

^Today.

Then I made a rubbing of a small circular plaque in the center rear of the Diag– an award for the landscape architecture of this campus.

Then I went over to the Dana Natural Resources Building, to make a rubbing of another plaque I remembered discovering a few months ago. This is the most devastating one. It was a plaque made for a tree, planted in the hope that global warming would one day be a concern of the past. The plaque was placed in 1989. Today, our president claims "The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese in order to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive." Sigh.

All this to say, my favorite plaques are the speculative ones, the ones that take a stab at the future, even when it seems uncertain. The plaque in the Art school foundation falls in this category. The fact that it was placed in the 1970's and their main concern for the future of art was technology and computers is super interesting. Unlike the Global Warming plaque, which was tragically optimistic, this one was vaguely catastrophic, but off-the-mark in a good way. (I could probably do a better job phrasing that...)

After that, I went down to the Union and made a rubbing of the time capsule plaque there, as well as the Peace Corp circular plaque, marking where JFK first mentioned the idea. There were many JFK related plaques around that area, but the small overlooked marker was more interesting to me, and it spoke to a part of JFK's visit that often gets overlooked as well.

Then I made a rubbing of a giant rock placed by the class of '69 (1869? 1969? I forget... I think the latter...)

Then I made a rubbing of a plaque that I never noticed until a few weeks ago. It sat at the foot of a tree that I HAD noticed, since my first year here. It was my favorite tree on campus. I called it the leaning tree, because it leaned at a 45 degree angle. A few weeks ago me and some friends were walking past the tree, and I pointed it out to them, because for whatever reason this weird tree never gets a second glance... but when I did so, I noticed a small plaque at the base of the tree, which I had never noticed before. I can't even remember what it said. But I also noticed that a red ribbon had been tied around the base of the tree. I knew what that meant. Leaning tree's time was up.

Today, I walked by the tree, and it was gone. Replaced by a young sapling. Ugh. But then when I read the plaque, I noted the date it was placed there... 2010. The leaning tree was YOUNG. It left too soon. What's more conflicting to me is this... This plaque was meant to commemorate a tree. Yet the tree has been removed, and a new tree has taken its place. The plaque is no longer 100% truthful. As it stands, this new tree is an impostor, no fault of its own. The plaque needs an amendment. A caveat. The plaque needs a plaque. Much like the Four Professors Monument.

Finally, I made a rubbing of Mark Schlissel's tree. Yes, he got a tree dedicated to him in 2014. No one seems to notice it. Maybe it's not worth noticing. What IS worth noticing?

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

Rotating Tim is my last brain cell trying to write but keeps getting distracted by tumblr and writing stuff thats not my fic

tim drake + bonus rotating tim ..........