#or it was other students from the humanities faculty which is also...

[hobgirl]

getting funnier with age is great but sometimes it sucks also. had the thought today that every time in uni somebody asked me "but what can you even do with a film & lit degree?" i could have responded "evil" and now i'll never get the chance

[kenzdolls]

SHOTA AIZAWA RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS .

⌗ pairing: shota aizawa x gn! ua teacher! reader

⌗ tags: eraserhead x reader, shota aizawa x gn! reader, mha x reader, bnha x reader

⌗ side note: i’m so deep into writer’s block it’s not funny. (◞‸◟,)

FIRST TIME MEETING:

▹ he first notices you when you're efficiently handling a crisis situation without breaking a sweat - competence is attractive to him, and also you didn't scream when that villain's quirk made everything explode into glittery chaos which was honestly more disturbing than the actual danger

▹probably officially meets you in the faculty lounge at 3 am when you're both grading papers and surviving on coffee, and you're the first person who doesn't give him weird looks for having his sleeping bag draped over his shoulders like some kind of comfort-seeking burrito

▹ initially thinks you're "too energetic" but secretly appreciates that you actually get your work done instead of spending meetings talking about "synergy" and "student engagement metrics" kill him now

▹ makes a mental note when you don't try to make small talk during meetings - respects people who value efficiency over asking him how his weekend was (it was spent sleeping and grading, actually, it's always sleeping and grading)

▹ notices you carry around a thermos of coffee that's somehow always full and warm, and he's 67% convinced you have some kind of coffee-related quirk because that's not humanly possible

▹ gets mildly annoyed when you organize his desk without asking, but keeps it that way because it's actually helpful and maybe he likes that someone cares enough to touch his stuff without wanting something

▹ observes you from across the room during faculty meetings, noting how you handle difficult conversations without resorting to present mic's volume levels or all might's aggressive optimism

▹ appreciates that you don't flinch when his eyes glow red during quirk demonstrations, unlike half the new teachers who still think he's going to murder them (he's only thought about it twice)

▹ finds it oddly comforting when you work in comfortable silence together during late-night patrol prep, because you understand that 2 am is not the time for philosophical discussions about hero work

▹ realizes you're one of the few people who doesn't take his bluntness personally and actually seems to prefer it over fake pleasantries - finally, someone with sense.

HIM FALLING IN LOVE:

▹ starts leaving his capture weapon in slightly more organized coils when he knows you'll be in the same room because apparently he has some kind of basic human dignity left

▹finds excuses to patrol the same routes as you "for efficiency purposes" and definitely not because he wants to make sure you don't get yourself killed by being too reckless (you're not reckless, he's just paranoid)

▹ actually starts drinking the fancy coffee you recommended instead of just whatever's cheapest, and pretends the taste difference doesn't matter even though it's obviously superior - he's not becoming bougie, it's just logical

▹ catches himself staring when you're concentrated on work and immediately looks away while mentally cursing himself for being unprofessional

▹ begins to hate when other teachers interrupt conversations between you two, especially mic who has the worst timing in human history and zero understanding of social cues

▹ starts remembering little details about your schedule and preferences without consciously trying, like how you always grade villain analysis essays on thursdays and prefer the blue pens over black ones

▹ gets irrationally annoyed when other pro heroes flirt with you during joint missions and has to resist the urge to use his quirk to make them stop mid-pickup line it would be for the greater good

▹ finds himself staying awake longer when you're both doing late-night paperwork, claiming it's because he's more productive with ambient noise (not because he's enjoying your company, obviously)

▹ unconsciously positions himself between you and potential threats during dangerous situations, then acts like it's just tactical positioning and not protective instincts

▹ actually considers buying new clothes that aren't just "whatever's comfortable and black" before realizing he has no idea what looks good and gives up

▹ starts timing his coffee breaks to coincide with yours and pretends it's a coincidence even though he's literally checking his watch

▹ gets secretly pleased when you laugh at his dry, sarcastic comments because most people just think he's being mean - he is being mean, but like, affectionately

▹ begins to worry more about your safety during missions than he logically should, doing unnecessary risk assessments about your patrol routes (he's not obsessing, it's just thorough planning)

▹ catches himself almost smiling when you successfully handle difficult students, then immediately schools his expression back to neutral too late, mic saw

▹ realizes he's memorized the way you organize your classroom and desk supplies and could probably recreate your filing system from memory - this is definitely normal behavior

HIM AS A S/O:

▹ shows affection through practical gestures - brings you coffee exactly how you like it, leaves snacks on your desk, and pretends he's not keeping track of when you last ate because someone has to make sure you don't die of malnutrition

▹ uses his capture weapon to pull you closer when you're within range, especially if you're being "inefficient" by walking over to him when he could just gently retrieve you

▹ shares his sleeping bag during outdoor missions and training camps, claiming it's for "optimal body heat distribution" and not because he wants to cuddle he wants to cuddle so bad it's embarrassing

▹ remembers every detail about your quirk's limitations and actively works to cover your weaknesses during fights, like some kind of strategically-minded partner

▹ lets you play with his hair when he's too tired to protest, and secretly loves it but will never admit it because that would require acknowledging he has feelings

▹actually starts going to bed at reasonable hours because you've convinced him proper sleep improves his quirk efficiency (and not because you worry about his health, definitely not)

▹ gives you one of his spare capture weapons "for practical purposes" but really because he wants you to have his protection even when he's not around

▹ shows rare moments of softness by pressing his forehead against yours when you're both exhausted after long days, pretending it's just because he's too tired to hold his head up properly

▹ starts eating actual meals instead of just coffee and nutrition bars because you worry about his health, and discovers food actually tastes good when it's not from a vending machine - revolutionary

▹ uses his quirk to stop your alarm clock on weekends so you can sleep in together, then acts innocent when you realize what happened ("did i do that? weird.")

▹ lets you be the only person who can interrupt his naps without getting death glares, though you still get grumpy mumbling and attempts to pull you into the sleeping bag

▹ actually smiles (small ones) when you successfully coordinate combo moves with his erasure quirk, proud of your teamwork and maybe a little turned on by your competence

▹ wraps you in his capture weapon when you're cold instead of offering his jacket like a normal person, because why be conventional when you can be efficient

▹ defends your teaching methods to other faculty members with surprising passion, shutting down criticism with cold logic and barely-concealed threats - no one talks about his partner like that

▹starts keeping a spare hair tie on his wrist for you after noticing you always lose yours, and pretends it's not because he pays attention to every little thing about you

▹ uses his underground hero connections to make sure you're safe even when he's not around, running background checks on suspicious people in your area (totally normal boyfriend behavior)

▹ actually takes days off when you're sick to take care of you, claiming it's logical since he'd be distracted anyway and not because seeing you miserable makes his chest hurt

▹ lets you reorganize his entire living space because "you're more efficient at domestic tasks" and definitely not because he likes evidence that you exist in his space

▹gets genuinely upset when you're injured, even minor cuts, and hovers while pretending he's not hovering ("i'm not hovering, i'm strategically positioning myself for optimal medical assistance")

▹ learns your coffee order at six different places and has backup plans for when your favorite cafe is closed because proper caffeine intake is serious business

▹actually starts taking pictures to "document important moments" and (definitely doesn't have a folder on his phone labeled with your name)

⌗ taglist: [open] ⌗ mutuals: @haikyuubby @va-3 @tulippanes @luvseraphh @gh0st-g1rll

© property of kenzdolls 2025 — do not copy, steal, or plagiarize my work onto other media platforms.

[exquisink]

The Helpless -- G. Suguru X Fem! Non Sorcerer Reader

Summary:

You, a passionate graduate student, encourage the priest Suguru Geto to appear as a guest lecturer to one of the classes you assist teaching. Little do you know, that small, seemingly unimportant decision changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Word Count: 13.2K

Warnings: Yandere, Yandere Getou Suguru, cunnilingus, a reader who can see curses, a reader who is a graduate student, hands free orgasm, dubious consent

AO3

It’s one thing to be a regular-degular everyday gal slaving away in academics.

It’s a whole other beast when you’re a regular-degular gal who, not only takes up an ungodly workload for your last Master’s semester, but you also decide to TA a few classes as well. But that’s not all! Did you mention you have other burdens you’re certain no one else in your world carries? Being able to…see things.

You’ve come to accept that seeing things is just as natural as breathing, at least, for someone like you. It’s why you’ve come to develop a sense of empathy for those unaware they’ve been afflicted, especially fellow students or the faculty around here. Or people you just pass by on your commute to class. There’s not much you can do, except give them some reassurance. There’s nothing more you can do, than to be a bit more lenient with students on their grades when their performance is has slipped. Whether from the things they’ve been afflicted by that only you can see, or for some other humane reason, like family problems, or personal problems.

You don’t remember when this curse of sight began. You’re not aware of anyone else in your family who struggles with this particular unique issue, either. While many take the old adage “fighting your inner demons” as just that, a figure of speech, you’ve come to learn that it’s a quite literal thing.

Humans manifest their own troubles.

It’s an early day for you. 7AM you’re lecturing one of your previous courses, Philosophy and Contemporary Thought. It’s nothing new for you, but it will be new to this new set of students, and you hope you shed some light on the topic in today’s lecture to these bright minds. It’s what you live to do now. You’re certain after you graduate that you’ll pursue a PHD in Philosophy.

While you still have another hour until the lecture begins, you have been writing on the whiteboard a high-level overview of the topic. Absurdism, Nihilism, and Existentialism. All fantastic topics in their own rights, and you might have a little too much passion when discussing them to the professor which typically lectures this class. In fact, at one point, you even bring up the idea of bringing in some guest lecturers, which the professor is delighted to do for you.

When you bring up who you want as the next guest lecturer, the professor is understandably a little uncertain given the organization’s ambiguous reputation. You suggest the leader of the Star Religious Group, Suguru Geto, a priest infamous for preaching about the current state of society to his followers and devotees. You think it might be an eye-opening experience for young minds. Not that you agree with a lot of his ideologies, but it is always good to go in with an open mind. Even if such ideologies might seem completely out there.

What’s more shocking to you is a new e-mail notification which is from the devil you know, Suguru Geto, you see when you toss your head over your shoulder in the middle of writing another bullet point on the board; the marker squeaking against it from the force. You dash back to your desk and podium, scanning the reply’s contents. Your eyes light up with delight! He’s pleased with the invitation and is happy to engage young minds, just as you are!

You crack your knuckles and draft a reply before hitting send. You then glance at the clock which reads 7:45AM. You have 15 more minutes to prepare the class and also make such a delightful announcement!

His reply is as quick as yours. Your eyes widen in shock from the last line.

‘Would it be bold of me to request to discuss this over some coffee or dinner? I’d like to meet you sometime before the day I’m scheduled to lecture.

Best Wishes,

Suguru Geto’

He doesn’t have to ask you twice! You grin as your hands spring back to life drafting another reply. All you can say is yes, yes, yes! If that means the possibility of more opportunities for exposure to other ideologies, then what’s the issue? You don’t see any!

Your pinky hits enter when you shoot the response back. And just in time, some of your students pour into the large seminar room. You don’t ignore the little curses latched onto some of them, ignoring the twinge of sympathy in your chest. You can deal with that later, however you can. You just know to remember the names attached to those faces when you go to grade their assignments.

They don’t need added stress. While you aren’t sure what to do with the curse of sight, it at least makes it easier for you to be kind.

And sometimes, that’s the hardest thing to be in a world like this. Where humans are the cause of their own suffering.

“Good morning,” you greet with a little pep in your voice, hoping to wake up those dreary faces. Yes, it’s early. Yes, there’s probably a million things these students would rather be doing than attend an 8AM 90-minute lecture. But these young minds are troopers for showing up, anyway; you always remind them it’s easier to do nothing.

Some students who have entered the class acknowledge you with a nod or a strained smile. Some of them with the curses latching onto them. They seem so tired. Only you can see that but to everyone else, they seem normal.

More of your students begin to pour into the grand lecture hall, and you grin. 5 more minutes.

“Take a glance and what’s on the board, and let me just turn on the big screens…” you trail off as you do just as you promise. The two huge overhead screens project your computer screen with the PowerPoint you prepared at the ready. “…I’m lecturing today in place of the professor who is away for the week.”

You do hear some students murmuring amongst themselves before the clock strikes 8AM, thus having you begin. The murmurs quiet down as you gesture for the students to direct their focus on you as you begin rambling away on some of your favorite topics ever.

And perhaps the greatest gift of all for you, is the fact that they still seem engaged in spite of their exhaustion. You have to give yourself a pat on the back for that one. It means you’re doing something right!

After the lecture ends, you return to your dorm and pull up your email for any other responses from Geto. To your delight, he has responded with more of his contact information. Instead of his professional phone number, he provides his personal. It’s still a bright beautiful day for you to conquer but you have some evening lectures to attend. You take advantage of the time to catch up on your own assignments and grading work from other classes you TA.

You do seem a bit desperate, but hey! It’s all for the sake of education, after all!

Dialing the number, you wait. You hear the other line click.

“Yes?” comes a smooth voice over the line. You exhale, calming your nerves the best you can in that moment. You can’t help it! All of this anticipation is killing you, but in a good way and not the undesirable way.

“Hello,” you begin, still a bit nervous (and, duh, excited) at the prospect of meeting such a famed priest. Even if he is a nutjob, that somehow makes him even more fascinating. “Am I speaking with Suguru Geto?”

“Yes. Are you the TA at Tokyo University, that I’ve spoken to just a bit ago?”

You answer with a bit too much enthusiasm in your voice. “Yes, that’s me! Thank you for your time with my students. I’m sure they’ll love to hear your perspective in class.”

“Of course,” he replies in a low murmur. “I am more than happy to provide my insights for the sake of furthering education. So, I’m set to lecture next week? Would you like to grab some dinner before then?”

“I’d love to,” you breathe, your heartrate increasing by the passing second. Why are you acting like this? You’re acting like a shriveling schoolgirl trying to impress your senpai! This can’t be real. “What days are you free?”

“I can free up my schedule, but yours is far more rigid than mine, I expect. So what day works best for you?”

“Hm…how does Sunday evening sound?” That’s the only day you’re ever truly free. It’s usually the day you use to reset your week, but you can get all of that out of the way before the evening, anyway! It’ll be a nice way to cap it all off.

“Excellent. I’ll give you the details to this restaurant my family likes to go to. I’ll come pick you up that day.”

Oh, you can feel the excitement seeping into your bones and searing them like acid. You can’t help it—anything that expands your knowledge, anything that gets your gears moving in that huge noggin’ of yours? That’s worth being excited about, for sure!

Though you have to admit, it feels a little too easy. You doubt he wants to discuss anything beyond the lectures and what kind of tidbits to feed to students, You don’t claim yourself to be a mind-reader, either, but judging from the tone of his voice…he seems just as eager as you to meet. Unless you’re just playing on some wishful thinking, because you’re just that damn naïve sometimes and you can’t help but let your imagination run a little wild.

You don’t realize you’ve not responded until you hear Geto clearing his throat over the line.

“Miss?” you hear him inquire, concern laden in his tone. You flush a bit, embarrassed by how long you kept him in this call when he has his own agenda to follow after this. You shouldn’t waste his time any more than you already have.

“Sorry, got lost in thought for a moment,” you chuckle, as your eyes roll upward. “Yes, that sounds perfect. I can’t wait to meet with you.”

A long, reflective silence stretches over the two of you, and then:

“And I, you. Until then.”

Click.

Oh, the anticipation! And it’s already Friday, so you have to make sure you give your best foot forward and the greatest first impression. After all, you don’t want someone like him to think that you neglect yourself in favor of furthering your students’ education? Even if in some cases that might be admirable, you don’t want to seem like you don’t take care of yourself.

Especially since you’ve caught wind of quite a bit of gossip around Suguru Geto. That he’s the handsomest devil people have ever seen, and that people join his organization for the sole reason that he’s beautiful eye candy. You wonder how that’s going to turn out for you. You can’t help it; you get as excited over men as you do over education, and you’re not exempt from desiring some kind of connection. You’re only human in the end.

It's simply human nature to desire connectedness. Heh. It’s part of why humans strive to join communities, who share similar values, mindsets…isn’t that why he’s lead Star Religious Group over the years? Isn’t that why you decided to pursue a degree on Philosophy, to seek an understanding on the human condition?

“Great, now I have to figure out what to wear…” you muse out loud as your gaze flits to your tiny ass closet. With hardly anything too fancy because you strive for comfort sitting through long, long, looooong lectures and instructing them. Nobody cares about fashion sense in higher education, anyway, at least on schoolgrounds.

You almost wish you’ve packed some nicer things for occasions such as these, though. It’s important to make a great first impression.

The dorms at Tokyo University aren’t the most pleasant. They’re all cramped up and feel isolating, even—more like especially—the single dorms. You’re lucky enough to nab one yourself. All you’re provided is a closet, a bathroom that connects to the neighbor’s, and a small bed. And a desk. Just standard, cramped up, uncomfy at best. Even if you give it a touch that shows off your sparkling personality, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s…just small.

Not in a cozy way. So far from a cozy way.

“What to wear, what to wear…” you muse out loud again, sliding open your bamboo closet to reveal…a very dull set of capsule clothes. You wish you didn’t listen to those influencers online, because how the hell are you going to style any of these basic, boring clothes? And why are you deciding upon this two nights before meeting with Geto? Oh, right. You’re hoping to get his attention somehow.

Because you’re a lonely piece of shit.

You don’t even know what he’s like. Not really. You have seen some pictures, and the rumors hold true: he’s jaw-droppingly handsome. Like, holy hell, you want to take his pants off right then and there and show him a good time on the fucking spot type of handsome. Those long thick luscious locks of black hair cascading down his back. Those striking, intense violet eyes that remind you of amethysts.

And that jawline. Oh, that fucking jawline. A sharp jawline that’s so, so damn rideable too.

Everything you want in a man, and he’s a damn lunatic and you know it.

Maybe you’re a little too into it.

“Ugh! Are you serious?” You sift through your tiny capsule wardrobe and also find that it’s completely void of any color. No pop of color to spice up a dull wardrobe…does this mean you have to go shopping? Do you even have the funds for that right now? A satin black blouse with faux pearl buttons catches your eye and you hum as you consider how to style it. It’s not the fanciest getup, but it’ll do.

“Now I have to settle on a makeup look and hair…ugh! And the right perfume? Did I even pack any with me this term!?” You practically tug and pull at your hair as you rack your mind for ideas; you don’t have the greatest sense of style, but you can always seek some trusted sources for ideas. You kind of wish you had time to make more girl friends during your time as a graduate here. You need second opinions, and you have access to none.

Curse you for being more of a loner! Curse you!

This might be something you have to settle until after your evening lectures…

Sunday night approaches sooner than you expect. Geto sets the time for 6PM on the dot and you expect to meet him at the back of your dormitory. The sun has dipped over the horizon, leaving behind a sky in hues of soft pinks, lavender, and indigo, dusted with bright stars. Tonight’s a waning crescent moon.

The parking lot is barely full, with other students likely out and about and enjoying their weekend. You should have enjoyed it a little more, too, but your schedule left almost no room for such luxuries.

You unlock your phone to check the clock a few times, but it’s only a few minutes until he arrives. You sigh as a gust of wind rushes through your hair, and you don’t bother to try to adjust it. You’ve given up on making a good first impression because you can’t seem to make anything work out. You hope you look presentable, at the very least. Like a dignified, distinguished woman—the way you should be.

Who can’t seem to wait much longer because you sooooo hate to be left waiting! You’re huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf to yourself. It’s not even like he’s stalling because you’re the one who decided to wait outside! Out here, in the crisp and chilly evening autumn air. You want to take a moment to appreciate the array of colors on the leaves of the trees lining the parking lot but you are far too eager to meet someone interesting.

Finally, a dark, smaller limousine pulls in front of you. You’re stunned. You know the guy must be loaded, but you don’t expect something so fancy like this for some reason. The driver steps out and opens one of the back doors for you, and you offer her a smile. The lady with the pretty, wavy pink hair only huffs in response, which has you perking an eyebrow at the animosity (eh, women can be catty with each other for sure, but you aren’t interested in engaging in that sort of behavior, and never will be interested in such) and you slide into the vehicle. There, on the opposite seat, is the man of the hour. Suguru Geto.

The pink haired lady shuts the door after you enter, and you adjust your skirt a bit because suddenly you’re too aware of how high it hikes up your legs when you sit. You feel a little exposed, without meaning to. You probably have forgotten how to dress like you’re 22 and cute, ready to mingle and to party like it’s 1999.

You don’t remember what that’s like, actually. You idly wonder if you’ve forgotten how to be a girl, sprucing herself up for a potential suitor. Getting swept off of her feet, getting asked out on dates…when’s the last time that’s even happened to you?

You are about to part your lips to speak, but then you notice something floating overhead. Your eyes widen in panic, before glancing at Suguru, who seems composed and collected with a little grin playing on his lips, complementing the rest of his handsome features.

Gosh, is it illegal to be that ethereal? It should actually be a crime.

“It’s nice to meet you officially,” Geto begins in that smooth voice of his, like a jazz singer between speaking parts of their piece. Your heart flutters at the sight of him and you reprimand yourself in your mind.

Get a grip! You think. This is just for business! He addresses your name, and you confirm he’s pronouncing it correctly.

But something else catches your attention, a chill dancing down your spine.

You don’t ignore the disgusting, grotesque, hairy, indigo worm-like creature hovering just above Geto. Its eyes look like narrow slits, and it has a tiny mouth. It’s an overgrown, nasty ass caterpillar to you. You try not to grimace when you see little bits of drool dribbling out of its tiny mouth. You try your best not to make it seem obvious that you see it.

Is he aware of its presence? Does he know about…seeing things? Much like you?

But unfortunately for you, he seems to catch onto your shift in demeanor, quirking an eyebrow. He gestures to the grotesque creature, making your hairs stand on end. “I take it you can see my little friend here.”

“I…yes,” you swallow, eyes glancing down at your lap while you fiddle with the fabric of your skirt.

A stretch of silence falls between you two, and those sharp violet eyes of his are assessing you. As if trying to understand your dilemma…not like he’s much different in that regard here, but you’re about to find out how wrong you are about that soon enough.

“From what I gather, you don’t appear to know how to get rid of them. Have you only been able to see them?”

You nod grimly, digging your fingers into your skirt. “Yes, all my life. For as long as I can remember.”

“I see,” he replies, “It’s quite a burden to take on, isn’t it? Able to see the evil humans create, but unable to stop it.”

“…Yes,” you admit, chewing on your bottom lip. So just what is he getting at? “I’ve always been…sensitive to these things, I guess. I can’t tell you exactly when it all started. I think sometime after my grandfather passed away as a child.”

Geto hums in acknowledgement. “Often, the only time someone without the innate ability to sense curses see them at a time of tragedy, or even before their own deaths.”

He adjusts his shirt. He’s not wearing his priest garb; instead wearing a casual deep navy top and dark wash pants. You notice he paints his nails to match.

You find yourself swallowing. Why do you find that so damn attractive?

“There is a way for you to rid the world of these curses,” he says, tone calm, even. Soothing on your nerves…has he ever considered hosting a podcast? He has a voice you can listen to all day, just for the comfort. “I can help you in that regard, but of course, that’s not why we’re here tonight, isn’t it? I look forward to next week with you.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” you reply, voice meek, a flush creeping onto your features. “I-I’d like to know what more I can do about this curse of mine. The sight, I mean. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude, but does it always…hang around you like that?”

“Not always,” he chuckles, waving his hand and in a split second, the spirit above him vanishes. “That was just a test. I’ve been watching your lectures since your professor reached out to me, just to get an idea of what to expect from you.”

“How did you know I could see them through the lectures posted online?” you tilt your head, curiosity piqued. It’s not often that students are asked to come up to the class to demonstrate knowledge, but perhaps there’s been some instances where you acknowledge the presence of a curse in the classroom that goes unnoticed by the standard human eye. You have no choice but to elect to ignore the presence in the middle of class, but sometimes you can’t hide your own reactions, perhaps. He must have caught on one way or another.

“I’m sure you can put two and two together,” he answers with that smug little grin still on his face, but you can tell in spite of that, he’s being a bit playful with you. You shake your head, grinning in spite of the anxiety spiking in your mind.

“Of course,” you say with a smile tugging at your glossy lips, as a laugh escapes your lips in uneven breaths. Your eyes flit around the secluded area of the limo, as if unsure how to proceed from here. You twist the edge of the sleeves of your blouse.

What are you supposed to do with this information then? A sheen of sweat glistens on your face, and you hope your setting spray is doing the trick to hold that soft glam look you worked so hard to make perfect for the night.

It’s supposed to be freakin’ sweat and transfer proof… you think in your mind, your lips twitching ever so slightly. God, you try so hard and where does It get you?

“Is something on your mind?” Geto’s voice snags your attention back to the immediate reality. Oh, right. You’re supposed to be discussing work stuff. What you want him to bring up in his guest lecture. And if he wants to make that a regular thing for the students this term.

“Sorry,” you reply in a wistful tone, fiddling with a stray strand of hair. “It’s been a while since I went out like this, I guess. Been all work and no play, and this still involves work!”

A gasp slips from your lips as he takes your hands in his, and you admire how soft his skin feels against yours. When you meet his eyes, they’re not hardened but soft, glittering like the gemstones those violet eyes resemble.

“It doesn’t have to be.” He runs the pads of his fingers across your knuckles in a soothing gesture. You feel your guard melt away. He seems like such a kind person in spite of the sort of things he preaches to his followers or devotees. You have done a little digging on him too for the purpose of your studies. The man before you doesn’t seem like someone who holds so much disdain for the current state of society. Even if you do agree with some of his views to a certain degree, a lot of his ideals do seem a bit…impractical.

But then again, most religious priests do believe in many impractical things. You’re beginning to understand the origins, considering the things you’re able to see that the standard human eye cannot. Most of these spirits are manifested from humans’ negative emotions. If only humans can understand how to control and harness that.

Unfortunately, it’s not like people can turn their emotions off unless they’re robots.

You can feel the flush on your face deepen and the sweat dampening your face a bit. You dig into your purse for a wipe to dab some of that off. You are definitely leaving a scathing review on that setting spray falsely advertising its benefits. Geto doesn’t make any comments. He doesn’t seem all that concerned, even. He can tell you’re a bit unnerved and is being kind and patient with you.

It’s a kind enough gesture from him.

You arrive at the restaurant and rather than the driver, it’s Geto who escorts you out like a gentleman, hooking his arm around yours. Though you can’t see through the driver’s tinted window, you just know that the driver’s probably seething at you from the display of affection and you’ve only just met the man. Are you going to get lucky with him? Maybe not on the first date, but he does seem interested in you for other reasons than just business.

Geto definitely does look far more godly in person than in pictures—which already make him look like an ethereal being, blessed by the Heavens. You can’t believe this is even happening.

Maybe it’s been a while since he’s encountered someone else with the curse of the sight, too. Maybe he finds some comfort in knowing someone like you is out there.

You feel the same way about him. You both share that curse, of the sight of these spirits, but at least he can do something about it. And he can help you do something about it.

As you’re escorted to your table—a more secluded corner of the restaurant, which has you quirk an eyebrow, but you figure it’s to discuss the elephant in the room—you’re handed your menus and left to ponder your orders. As you open yours, he speaks up again, and your eyes glance up from your menu as you’re drinking in the sight of those delicious udon noodles that you’ve been craving for some time now.

“So your class,” he starts, taking a sip out of his iced water. “Tell me about it. What else should I expect and what would you like me to expand upon?”

“Well, that all depends on you. Since you’ve kept up with the recent lectures, I’d guess you know we’re covering the topics of nihilism, existentialism, and absurdism. I’m sure you have plenty of valuable insight about that. You can tie that into your work as well. Of course, minus the seeing things part,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “The guest lecture is just a fun bonus for students. They get bonus points to their final grade if they attend as well as an incentive. It’s something to keep them engaged and interested in the material they’re absorbing.”

He nods along as you speak, resting his glass back on the table as his eyes scan the menu below him. “Ah. So I have free reign, then?”

“Don’t speak about the…obvious stuff between us; I don’t need to tell you that,” you respond, voice wavering. “I’d guess as long as it ties into the topics we’ve discussed in past lectures, it’s fair game. I’m sure they’d love to hear insights on what you do at Star Religious Group as well.”

“I see,” he expresses. Soon enough the waitress returns requesting your orders before taking the menus. After she leaves, he continues: “So what had you interested in me, specifically? I can’t help but be curious.”

“Oh. Well,” you trail off, racking your mind over what to say. You obviously can’t tell him it’s for more personal reasons. Though you have reason to believe that he already has picked up on that part. You can at least try to sound honest and not like you’re desperate for some action in your life? What makes you think you even have a chance with this guy, anyway? Pure, unadulterated delusion? Perhaps! You dare to meet his eyes as you try to muster up some kind of coherent answer. “Honestly, it’s just good for the students to get exposure to other ideologies. It’s all part of expanding their horizons and teaching them to keep an open mind. The whole purpose of attending university is to enrich the mind. Plus, you are a famed figure here. It just seems…you know, natural.”

He stares at you, brows furrowing as he takes in what you said. He seems…almost flattered by the answer you’ve given him. Even if you pull a lot of it right out of your bum, you’re pleased with the fact that you can save yourself from some level of humiliation in that moment.

Before he reacts, your orders are set on the table. Once again, he waits for the waitress to leave.

“Well, I’m happy to be there whenever you so desire,” he finally tells you as he pried his chopsticks apart. You join him in indulging in a meal. “Tonight is on me, by the way.”

“Oh, pish posh,” you quip with a dismissive wave of your free hand, grinning wide. “Let me handle the check this time. It’s the least I can do, since you’re taking time out of your busy schedule for this.”

A genuine smile tugs at his lips from that. It makes you perk up a bit; he does seem so guarded around you—or is he just like that in general?—for some reason.

“Such generosity is rare these days,” he comments, “I can’t remember the last time I encountered a character so authentic like yours.”

“Eh, I’m not all that,” you retort with an amused huff while taking a huge heaping of udon. You ignore some of the broth hitting your chin as you talk through chewing. “It’s a natural way to act, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he seems amused by your erratic antics. Even his beautiful violet eyes are twinkling because he seems like he’s enjoying himself.

A win is a win! You find yourself beaming, heart swelling with pride. Does this mean you have a shot?

“I beg to differ,” he quips, “It’s…rare these days, to find such authenticity in humans.”

Well, you think, he’s not exactly wrong there…

Things grow quiet for a moment as you’re slurping up your udon, and in the middle of another particularly long thick noodle, you catch him staring at you. Tilting your head, you finish your bite and gesture to him.

“What’s up?” you question with a confused puppy expression.

“Nothing,” he declares easily, helping himself to another roll of sushi. “You remind me of someone, is all.”

You almost want him to elaborate on that observation, but then ultimately decide against it. It’s not all that important to you right then. For the rest of dinner, the two of you begin to discuss more mundane topics until you’re done. You follow through on your promise in taking care of the check, which he graciously thanks you for (and you of course brush off because why? It’s not a big deal to you). He escorts you back to the limo and helps you back inside.

The ride back to your dorm is pleasant. You two continue to talk about things that interest you both, whether about the future lectures or about the curse of sight. It’s something to discuss later, but you do appreciate when he tells you he’s happy to help you where he can.

“Would it be inappropriate of me to ask you if I could walk you back to your dorm?” he inquires, “Just to make sure. As you know, schools are breeding grounds for curses. Manifested from stress, anxiety, fear…”

“I’ll be alright,” you promise, “I haven’t encountered too many issues since I stayed here. I’ll be sure to give you a call if I do need anything.”

“I’d like that very much,” he states, but then stops you before you begin walking away, grasping your elbow, his touch gentle. “I meant to ask you before, but time slipped past me. Are you aware of the existence of sorcerers?”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead.

 “Sorcerers?”  you echo. He nods.

“It’s what I am,” he explains further, but it clearly doesn’t make things simpler for you. “I’m granted abilities where I can exorcise those spirits from humans. It’s part of why I took over that organization. As much as I’d like to explain further, I’m sure you’re pressed for time as well. This is something to discuss over a coffee date, if you’re so inclined to meet more with me beyond business?”

Your heart skips a beat at the idea. You nod.

“Yes,” you concede, practically breathless. “I’d really like that.”

He smiles, releasing your arm and almost appearing bashful from the proximity. “I’ll wait for you to enter your dormitory before I head off. You have a good night.”

You match his smile. “You too.”

You twist on your heel and can still feel his intense gaze on your back as you enter the building. You don’t turn back, but you can still feel his stare. You don’t sense any malice. More curiosity concerning you.

You are curious about him, too.

On the day of Geto’s guest lecture, there’s a lot of excited chattering amongst your students, with beaming smiles and wide doe eyes as they glance down at the enigma of the man at the front of the room. Many people are aware of his reputation—however they receive his perspectives. You see many of your female students snapping a few photos of Geto, with your male students shooting envious glares at him, which has you shaking your head to yourself as you pull up Geto’s presentation he’s set up for the class. Of course you’re no stranger to the fact that he’s popular to the ladies, because you’re not immune to his objective good looks, either.

This is surely to get your students interested in the material.

Before the class begins, Geto pulls you aside for a moment.

“Were you able to take a look at the presentation before today?” he asks, “I did my best to adhere to what you asked of me.”

You give him a nod. “Everything looks perfect and ties in well with the course material. I really appreciate all your effort, Geto.”

“Suguru,” he interjects, “No need to be formal with me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You like to think so. You give him a reassuring grin.

“Go ahead,” you push as your grin widens. “All those curious eyes are on you now.”

The lecture, as you expect because you don’t expect anything less, is a whopping success. You have never seen your students more involved before. Maybe Geto’s good looks help in that regard, but you hope to yourself that they actually pay attention to the things he’s said about his own ideologies in correspondence to the course material discussed. Even your typical troublemaking students are engaged, with their mouths agape and their notebooks open as they scribble furiously down on their papers.

Geto carries his words with authority like he always does; it captures the attention of everyone in the room.

“Society often asks the strong and fortunate ones to protect what is weak, but at what cost?”

You watch as his eyes scan through the room, inviting his students to challenge the ideology. “There is a natural order to the universe, and disruption of that order comes at a greater price than humanity is willing to accept or acknowledge. Why protect those incapable of willing to contribute? It risks stagnation. It risks evolution. Not to go back to the roots of Darwinism and the survival of the fittest, but strength and progress are ultimately what drive the world forward.”

A few of your students exchange confused glances, unsure of how to react, but their curiosity still keeps them engaged. Many other students are sitting with their mouths agape, pencils still poised above their notebooks. There are others nodding along, but maybe not necessarily in agreement with Geto’s ideals.

Geto proceeds, his words woven into the course material as you wish for him to, in ways that challenge the status quo.

“Let’s consider the history of human advancement,” he goes on, as he changes the slides on the projector with the device you’ve given him. “We see how often significant change has been driven by only the strongest and most adept of minds. Society romanticizes the idea of protecting the weak, but in doing so, we are forsaking the future for the sake of the present—for the sake of preventing the inevitable. True progress demands necessary sacrifice.”

What a nutjob, you sigh, but you keep an eye on your students, who are as open minded as they come if they’re taking a philosophy class. They’re enthralled by him, by the way he connects these broader concepts with the subjects they’ve covered in this class and classes similar. While they don’t agree with his worldviews (and frankly, neither do you), it still has their gears shifting in their minds. They’re engaged. They’re eager to enrich themselves. That’s the ultimate goal for you.

By the time the lecture concludes, you see even the usual skeptics in your class are caught off-guard, mesmerized by his words, their pens still furiously scribbling across the page after Geto completes his presentation. You are in absolute awe of this man. You don’t know how you can repay him for such an intense lecture.

You do treat him to coffee and pastries at a café on campus, thanking him profusely for everything and you do hope that he continues to come back for the rest of the semester.

That’s definitely one of the better lectures you’ve seen since you’ve begun pursuing higher education.

He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he settles back into his chair, relaxed as if he’s conquered the world today. Which he may as well have in your eyes.

“I’m glad I was able to make a lasting impression on them,” he boasts, “Are they normally this intrigued by the material?”

You shake your head at that.

“Oh, not to such a degree like today,” you respond earnestly. “I was impressed. The professor seemed very pleased as well, so he’s definitely hoping you come by more often.”

His eyes flicker with something unreadable before he leans forward, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper.

“I did notice many of your students haunted by spirits,” he confesses, “I can do something about it, you know.”

“That would be great. It’d give you more of a reason to frequent the university,” you reply, “You said you can teach me how to get rid of the problem?”

“I can,” he assures you with a hum. “I’m more than happy to demonstrate one day.”

“How soon can that be for you?” you ask a little too eagerly. “If I can do the things you can do…even a little bit, I want to be able to help people in a way that I can too.”

He smiles at that, his face brightened as he does, and your heart does backflips.

“You truly are a good person,” he remarks, his tone almost reverent.

You glance away, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Receiving compliments have always made you feel awkward, and coming from someone like him, who seems so genuine, so sincere…it’s both off-putting yet flattering to you. You shrug the compliments off with a noncommittal hum, sipping your latte as a form of distraction. “Eh. That’s up for debate.”

“No, believe me, I mean what I say,” he insists, his gaze unyielding. “It’s…great to meet someone like you.”

You freeze in place. Damn, this guy…is he trying to kill you with kindness, or something? It’s definitely working because you swear you lost all the feeling in your legs; your body threatening to turn to mush.

“So,” your voice peters out as you try to continue the conversation before it lulls into another awkward stretch of silence. “Why don’t we meet more often this week about the exorcisms?”

“Sure,” he replies, “Do you know where my temple is?”

“No,” you tell him. He hands you his business card with the address on it.

“You can come there tonight, if you wish,” he utters, adjusting his collar as a slow, teasing smile graces his features. “Or, you know. Whenever you have some free time to learn more about what it is I do behind closed doors. Obviously, this kind of thing isn’t known to the public. As you might have guessed, the religious group is a bit more of a…coverup.”

You nod. “I’m honesty not surprised that this kind of thing is legit.”

“Of course you’re not,” he retaliates, his features darkening which nearly has you jump in your seat from the sudden shift in his demeanor. “You’re not blind like the rest. You see what lurks between our worlds.”

An eyebrow raises at the way he phrases that statement. Maybe it’s his nutjob side of him coming out, which you’re willing to ignore. You obviously don’t think he’s a nutjob for being able to see things like you can, and to rid the world of the issue. No, no, in fact, you see him as a saint for carrying such a burden. Even if it’s not one he’s wanted, maybe. More than likely, actually.

You just find some of his preachings to be impractical, is all. But like you have said before, many priests preach impractical things. It’s ultimately what appeals to the masses, isn’t it?

“Well,” you start, as you get up to leave. You have some more classes to attend yourself before you can think about anything to do with spirits. “Thanks for today, Suguru. It’s really been an eye-opening experience for my students. I know!”

“Of course,” he replies smoothly, getting out of his seat as well and pushing his chair under the table. “Thank you for treating me to coffee. Next time, you must allow me to get the bill. I can’t imagine this is easy on your finances as a student yourself.”

“Aw, fine,” you reply with a huff—your stubbornness is more playful than anything else, meant to lighten the mood a bit because you crack under too much tension.

“Next time.”

You’re definitely lying through your teeth. You know you won’t; he probably knows you won’t.

“And next time,” he goes on to say, without skipping a beat. “I’d like it to be a proper date.”

You almost drop the nearly empty cup of coffee in your hands from that statement, which encourages a hearty laugh out of Geto. Your blush deepens, and you place your hands on your hips, indignant, but he doesn’t stop laughing so you can’t help but join him and laugh at your own ridiculous antics. His laughter seems so pure, untouched. Raw.

It knocks the wind out of you, you find yourself admitting. You have never seen a more beautiful man in your life.

A part of you wonders the last time he’s ever felt so alight and carefree like this.

Later that week, you find your schedule easing up so you decide to make a quick detour to the temple. You give him a heads up that Friday evening, and he gets a ride ready for you at the same time you met before. He must be a creature of habit, or he just doesn’t want you to feel scattered. Either way, you’re looking forward to this demonstration he has for you. Maybe you might meet a client in need that night. As you’re picked up and driven there, by that same, snarky driver as last time, you can’t help but let the anticipation kill you inside a little. You do bring some of your supplies with you tonight, since time waits for no one and you have piles upon piles of assignments to grade, regardless of what happens tonight. You doubt Suguru will mind.

When you arrive, you’re greeted by the Star Religious Group’s temple which screams opulence the moment you step out of the limousine. Your mouth is slightly agape, taking in the sight. The building stands tall, grand, majestic. The religious group’s crest is on the center of the double doors which you enter after the driver, who is escorting you to Suguru’s exorcism room. The halls seem to stretch for miles, but you aren’t allowed time to explore as the pink-haired snooty driver shoves you into the room where Suguru waits, expecting you.

“Sheesh, your driver has got quite the attitude with me,” you remark, dusting off any particles in your clothes. You set your schoolbag aside as you approach Suguru, who is sitting in the middle of the room on a raised platform. “Thanks for having me tonight.”

“I’m happy you can make it,” he answers as he adjusts himself in his seat. He’s back in his typical priest garb, and you wonder if that was a personal choice because you have to admit; it’s not the most flattering on him. Not that religious garb is ever flattering…

“So,” you begin, seating yourself in the center of the room. “The demonstration. What does that entail?”

Geto casts a veil by chanting an incantation you have never heard of before. Then again, you have never even heard of sorcerers until now, so everything is new to you. Then you witness a few curses lurking about, ones he likely released for the sake of the demonstration. You watch, wide eyed, as the amalgamations are absorbed into a black orb that can fit into his hand. He smirks as you before you watch him ingest it with a look of disgust etched on his face, and from the way he arches his back to force it down.

You’re in awe. That’s his personal method for exorcising spirits? He’s discussed it in the past, but you have never seen it in person until now. You’re not sure what to think. He’s mentioned there are other methods other sorcerers have, and this is the one he, in his words, has been cursed with as a sorcerer. You idly wonder if he ever wanted to be one from the start.

“And that’s that,” he finishes, “I’m already their host, and exorcisms are usually much tougher than this, at times. The next time a client shows up, I can show you a more proper exorcism.”

He lifts the veil.

“And you say this is your unique method?”

He nods. “Yes. I consume them to exorcise them.”

“Your body holds all of those demons? Like a vessel?” you whisper, eyes shimmering from concern. Doesn’t that…not seem unfair to him? He has to hold all of those curses in his body. He has to make sure they don’t roam freely. He has been granted a power that seems to eat away at him, chip away at bits and pieces of his own agency.

That’s monumentally unfair in your eyes. You wish you can lift that weight on his shoulders.

He nods again, expression grim.

“Suguru,” you start after a period of reflection. You chew a bit on your lip. “Doesn’t it ever feel like too much?”

The resounding silence you get is response is all the answer you need to understand.

Suguru finally takes you on that proper date sometime later. Which eventually expands to more dates. Seeing each other more often. And as a man of his word, he even follows through on his promise and returns back to your university for a few more guest lectures all throughout the semester.

You feel like you’re floating; you never expect for anything to evolve with Suguru, but you’re definitely not complaining about the development.

It’s late one evening when Suguru requests your presence for another demonstration of an exorcism. It’s one of your students, he mentions to you, and you recognize her immediately upon entering the exorcism chamber. She’s a bright, ambitious girl who’s been thriving in your class in spite of the curses surrounding her that you’ve been able to notice. It’s why you’ve been a little more lenient with some students than with others. Is it unethical? Perhaps… but sometimes it’s necessary to give them a little grace here and there.

She’s approached you several times between class and during lectures, her eyes wide and thrilled to learn in spite of clearly cracking under the weight of the torment the curse spirits have put her through. The young lady has mentioned in passing that she’s felt a weight on her shoulders, an overwhelming amount of exhaustion that she can’t seem to shake off no matter how much medication she takes to stay alert. You know the reason why. And Suguru has noticed her. That’s why he’s suggested the student to visit his temple.

“She understands she’s cursed after I explained to her,” Suguru instructs you, his tone colder than what you’re used to all of a sudden. “I’ve noticed these curses are particularly stubborn with her.”

Now, as you stand beside Suguru on his raised platform, looking at the young, bright bubbly student in question, cowering in her spot. You can’t help shuddering from the tension. You’re never great with it. Suguru maintains his sharp gaze on the poor girl, his violet eyes reflecting a darkness you’ve never seen before in him. The student stands trembling at her spot, her hands clutching the hem of her shirt. Her gaze flits to you, fear pooling in her eyes, and your breath hitches—you’ve never seen her more desperate for relief from her torment. Even the strong ones break.

“Watch closely,” Suguru instructs, resting a hand on your shoulder.

He raises his free hand, weaving no gestures, nothing. Just instructing the girl coldly to hold still. You watch in awe as you watch the disgusting, grotesque curse spirits clinging onto the poor girl vanish into that same black orb. Some of the lights in the room flicker. The temperature drops and you rub your arms, seeking some kind of friction, some warmth. You can see your breath when you breathe out.

“Suguru…” you murmur, beady eyes glancing up at him.

“Shush,” he chides, his tone commanding and almost dismissive, not meeting your gaze.

The student’s body jolts as if struck by an invisible force, her eyes wide in terror as her breath comes in ragged gasps. You feel an instinct to rush to her, to offer some comfort, but Suguru holds you in place. He has told you to come here to watch, not to act.

“Those blasted curses, they cling to the weakness in humans,” Suguru mutters, his lips barely moving as he brings the orb to his lips. “Humans…they don’t understand the forces they impose on themselves.”

You don’t rip your gaze from him, a strange knot twisting in your gut. He addresses humanity with such disdain that it makes your skin crawl. It’s almost as if he wants to distance himself from the very essence of humanity.

He swallows the orb whole, arching his back as he grimaces at the strong taste (they can’t taste good). Your student collapses forward, her body quivering from relief. She’s smiling as she feels weightless and carefree again. You finally rush to her side, your heart hammering as you rest your hands on her shoulders, offering her comfort. Now she’s safe…but seeing the way Suguru’s attitude has shifted…something is not settling right in your soul about him.

“You helped her,” you whisper, bewildered eyes flitting to his. “Thank you. Thank you, Suguru.”

Suguru’s expression remains cold, calculating, still looking at the student with a hint of disdain. “Of course. It’s what I do. These blasted things thrive off of the pathetic weaknesses of humans.”

Your eyebrows furrow at that statement. He’s cold. You know the gist of the ideologies he preaches, of course, but you never thought it ran so much deeper in his soul. His gaze finally softens the longer he stares at you. For a moment, you’re not sure you really know the sort of person Suguru Geto is. It can’t just be the public persona he displays. And it can’t just be the sides he shows to you one on one. It’s true; humans are both simple and complex, multi-faceted…You can never truly know someone, even if you’re in close proximity to them.

“Are these the things you wish to learn?” he inquires, approaching you and helping you to your feet. He acknowledges the student before she makes her exit. Not before thanking Suguru profusely for his help. She’s never felt better. You can’t help but feel a sense of happiness for her. That torment has finally ended.

“I want to do the things you can do,” you reply, “I want to help others. I don’t want to be helpless anymore.”

His gaze softens even more at that, and your heart flutters.

“Then I’ll show you. There are workarounds for those who lack cursed energy. Tools imbued with cursed energy will be beneficial to you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “If you want to be the change you want to see in the world, then let me be your guide.”

“Teach me everything, Suguru,” you yelp a bit as he goes in for a dip kiss, leaning you backward as your lips meet. You return the passion, lips melding against his as if you can’t think of anything else you’d rather do in that moment. “I want to help you.”

He hoists you up by your bottom, hooking your legs around his waist as he continues to kiss you deep, leading you back to the raised platform and settling you on the cushions and not once breaking the kiss.

You don’t even stop him when he begins to unbutton your top. Or when he slips off your pants.

He trails little kisses and bites between your thighs, and you let out a dreamy sigh. You don’t even care that you’re practically out in the open here. But by now, the temple’s off the clock, isn’t it? Besides, it’s not like you haven’t already done riskier things with Suguru already in your own damn classroom.

Next thing you know, you’re already debauched and fucked out of your mind and he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet. He’s just taking you apart with his mouth, probably in an effort to wash away that curse taste he’s ingested not too long ago.

You do like to toy with the idea of being his stress ball. Carrying such a burden like his…he must need that escape. That little time of respite from his role in the world that has been thrust upon him against his will.

You can’t blame him.

If that escape is hours crushed between your thighs? Well, who are you to deny him?

Your lips part as you gasp when you feel his tongue twist around your little bud of nerves. He really has shown he can do this for hours. He’s even creamed untouched like a hormonal schoolboy before a handful of times just doing this and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed. There’s even been another time where he’s been so aroused by you that he’s creamed inside as soon as he entered you, which at first he found embarrassing but you insisted to him that it was the highest compliment in the world to you.

You wonder if that’s going to happen again tonight.

A shriek escapes your lips as he closes his mouth over your gooey folds and suckled hard, gulping down some of that heavy slick while rolling his tongue between them. Your back arches against the floor, hips grinding up into his mouth and he growls, low and menacing, like he’s in that mood—only interested in pleasing you on his terms.

“Suguru…” his name slips from your lips in a dreamy moan, legs constricting around his neck as you desire to knock him closer into you. His breath fans against your sex, and you buck your hips upward, craving more friction.

All you’re craving is more.

Already you can see a hint of a wet spot in his robe, meaning he’s already strained, already fully erect and leaking of arousal just doing this, just tearing you apart. You want to return the pleasure but this is another instance where he doesn’t need to be touched. He looks flushed himself, fucked out of his mind and delirious, eyes half mast as he locks his gaze on yours, his lips and chin sheen from your slick, while suckling and licking and slurping at your sopping gooey glistening cunt like he’s honored to do it.

He growls low again, and that wet spot in his pants spreads. He’s creamed himself untouched again and you mewl from the thought. Yet he doesn’t seem satisfied. He never is after just one orgasm or three out of you. You come soon after him, clenching helplessly around the wet muscle. He only chuckles, passing his tongue from your entrance back up to your clit. Where the tip of his tongue teases it with a few flicks before plunging it into your twitching, fluttering, soppy hole. You moan, hands gripping his head, clawing at his hair. He approves with another twist of his tongue inside your gummy walls.

In these moods of his, he doesn’t plan to stop. And you don’t mind. This indulges you as much as this indulges him.

During finals week, Suguru decides to hang back while you’re proctoring the exams for your class. He’s able to exorcise any spirits while there in a blink of an eye, lifting the weights off of numerous distressed students. You can’t help but smile. He does excuse himself a few times to ingest the curses, returning the third time with a cup of coffee for you both.

He sneakily brushes his fingers over your hand as you scan the classroom for any suspicious activity—meaning cheating, not curses—and you cast a sidelong glance at him with a little smile on your face.

As the students turn in their exams at the end of the period, Suguru speaks up and catches your attention as you’re stacking the papers neatly on your desk.

“So, is this the last exam for you?” he asks, hovering over your desk.

“No,” you answer with a defeated sigh. You’re so over the term. Your final term is going to be your lightest workload, which you’re looking forward to; it’s the little things. “I still have my own exams to take for the rest of this week.”

“Oh. Perhaps afterward, we can celebrate then. Nanako and Mimiko have been nagging me about going overseas somewhere for the winter. Will you join us?”

You tilt your head as he moves to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“Who will look after the temple?”

“Ah,” he quips with a sigh. “Manami can handle it while we’re gone.”

“Oh, well, if you really would like me to, then of course I’d love to go. Where are you guys thinking?” You’re in the middle of putting away your laptop and the files full of exams tucked away in a manilla folder.

“Bali,” he answers with a grin.

Your jaw hangs open and your entire face lights up. “No way.”

He leans in to give you a chaste kiss. “Of course. We have all the money and the time now and the girls have always wanted to go. They’ve come to adore you. They’d love you there.”

Pinch me, I’m dreaming. How did I get so lucky?

Little do you know that luck of yours is going to be tested.

You squeal in delight as you steal a kiss from him. Before you know it that kiss melds into a quick succession of heated kisses, and he grips you by your waist, hoisting you over your desk and pulling you flush into him.

“Can we lock the doors now,” he breathes between slobbery, biting kisses and though delirious you still manage to nod, as he reluctantly pulls away to do just that along with closing all the blinds.

He returns to you, shoving your things out of the way on your desk as he presses your back against the cool wood. He locks your lips in a frenzied kiss, desperate, soon trailing down to the juncture between your neck and shoulder where he bites down hard.

“Suguru—!” you hiss, your nails digging into his shoulders. He responds with an amused chuckle, licking the hickey now blooming on that area as his expert hands yank your work slacks off.

“The cameras are all off, yeah? Or if they are—let’s give them a show then—!”

“Nasty,” you playfully chide while whacking his shoulder. “They’re off now. No more lectures in this room today.”

“What a shame,” he laments, as he pries your legs as far apart as they can go before plunging his tongue into your sex. You squeal like a pig again, for an entirely different reason, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Ah ah,” he admonishes with a frown as he twirls his tongue between your already soaked folds, groaning low and guttural at your natural taste. “I want you to enjoy it, baby.”

You feel the flat of his tongue lap over your sex, smooth and languid, and you flush harder from the goopy, gooey squelching noises from the combination of your juices and his saliva. He’s devouring you like he always enjoys, taking his time in taking you apart.

You yelp as he inserts his large pink tongue inside, and he chuckles again, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. You squirm under him, and he holds you down in place, his grip unyielding.

It’s all so lewd, but you should be used to this by now, feeling his tongue plunge in and out of your gummy, spongy insides. But your head falls back, nearly slamming itself against the desk as your eyes cross.

The sloshing of your juices and his saliva is so…so embarrassing, and in a lecture hall too? Not as if you haven’t done this many times before with him, but why is it as thrilling as the first time whenever it’s with him? No one’s ever made you feel the things he did. No one’s ever understood you like the way he did and you want to give him everything.

You come in a hot flash, and he pulls off your sex, but not before a few long, dramatic slurps and gulps of your gushing slick that makes you squeak in embarrassment again. You basically are livestock to Suguru. He’s not even going to deny it either.

You whine pitifully as you feel him pull away, feeling sorely empty. But you’re not whining for all that long when you hear the light wisp of him pulling his pants and taking out his fully erect cock. He’s prepared, as usual, taking out a condom to wrap around his absurdly huge length that you’re surprised you can even handle taking even with enough prep. He lines himself to your entrance and pushes just the tip inside first, waiting for you to adjust with a little grunt of his own. You love it when he gets vocal; it’s often the only time you ever see him completely raw and uncomposed. He lets himself go completely with you, and he plunges more of his length inside and you utter a little strained gasp, gripping tighter onto his shoulders if it’s even humanely possible at this point.

He hoists you up from the desk, securing you in his arms as he begins to move you up and down on his cock. You cling helplessly to him, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his natural musk. It’s crazy to you that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever been with any partner you’ve ever had and he makes you feel so secure in allowing it. He must feel the same way. Doesn’t he?

His hands rake down your sides, stopping at your waist where he rests them. He purrs, his thrusts growing more erratic with need, and you can still hear some sloshing of your juices from your previous orgasm and it’s lewd and so embarrassing but it’s so hot because it’s him doing this to you. Not many people can get away with this in a dignified way…ever, really, but for some reason, with him, he makes you feel on top of the world.

And you are on top of at least his world right now.

Not much longer, and you find him releasing with you soon following suit, your gummy, gooey, slick walls clenching desperately around his cock. You stay like that for a few moments, still secured tightly in his arms and his cock still inside. Sometimes he likes to let it just sit in there for a few minutes, maybe longer, savoring the comfort of being inside you before fully pulling out and disposing of the used condom (in a much more discreet manner, considering they’re still in a public lecture hall).

He's always prepared. You appreciate that about him. He brings in supplies for a quick cleanup and suggests going to the nearest restroom for that before he escorts you back to your dorm. It’s your final week there until the semester ends. You ask him to stay and to join you in the shower.

Of course he won’t say no to such an inviting request.

Lucky for you, the shower you share with your neighbor is vacant, and you lock either side before stripping down. Geto follows soon after, slipping inside with you after you wait for the water to preheat.

“When do you graduate?” he murmurs as he kisses your shoulder. You lean into him, sighing in relief. You have never felt more at ease with anyone than like with Suguru. He makes you feel things no one else in your life ever has before. It’s why you have so few in your life; nobody ever truly ‘got’ you.

“Um, from the Master’s program next term,” you reply in a whisper. “But I think I might aim for my PhD…”

He secures his hold around your waist as the scalding water showers over your bodies. Steam begins to fog the area around you.

“Being on school grounds where curse spirits are everywhere…are you sure you want to be around that for a few more years?”

“Curse spirits are everywhere, in general, Suguru,” you counter, craning your neck as he kisses up to your ear. “It’s just…a fact. I can’t let that stop me from pursuing my goals.”

“That’s a fair point,” he mutters into your skin before reaching for your shampoo. “May I?”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckle, snatching the shampoo bottle from his hand. “But why don’t you let me take care of you, for once, Suguru?”

His eyes widen at the idea, but he gives you a soft smile. For a moment, you catch a glimpse of how tired he seems from the burden he’s forced to carry—nothing he’s ever wanted for himself from the start. The more you learn of his role of a sorcerer, the things he’s faced…you can’t help but want to give back. You want to make him feel cherished, loved. Because he is cherished and loved.

His lips move to your forehead where he peppers soft kisses as you begin to emulsify the shampoo he’s handed to you between your hands before working into his luscious locks of hair. You can’t help but admire how long it is, how well he takes care of it. He says he allows his twin girls to brush through it from time to time since they enjoy things like that.

You feel him pull you closer into him, so close that you can feel your synced heartbeats. You’re in the middle of washing down the middle of his hair and you chuckle.

“What’s up?” you whisper, as he hides his face into your neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, his voice almost like a pained whimper, catching you off guard. He has never been this open with you before. “Thank you.”

You think you hear him sniffling, at first thinking it’s because the steam is catching up to him. The steam from a shower can really do wonders on clearing out those sinuses. But no. It’s not from that at all, you realize as you hug him closer, drawing soothing circles on his back.

Suguru’s…crying.

He decides to stay a bit longer with you in your dormitory, snuggling you close into his body as you’re grading the exams.

You don’t comment on the crying, because it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, anyway. Why make a comment? He is free to feel everything and anything around you. It’s the greatest compliment of all to you.

He’s safe here with you, just like you feel safe with him.

You brush your fingers through his hair, inhaling the fresh cleanly scent of it. Fruity. Citrusy. It’s calming as you try not to make any snide comments on some students’ work, because higher education doesn’t necessarily mean you get a lot of bright students. It’s still a mixed bag.

“How the hell does a Master’s student not know how to spell mitigate?” you sigh, tapping your red ink pen against your forehead. “Or criticism? Seriously?”

Suguru chuckles at that, resting his chin on your shoulder, and meeting your eyes. The bags under his eyes are clearer now up close. He can’t mask his exhaustion. From whatever it is. You can only make speculations from what he’s shown you already. You aren’t here to judge him; what right do you have to do that? You can only be here for him.

“I love you,” you hear him say and your bewildered eyes meet his. But you come down from the temporary shock, kissing the bridge of his nose.

“I love you too,” you reply, meaning it, as you resume grading before groaning again. You just may rip all of these exams apart on the professor’s behalf! “Another misspelling of criticism?! These students need to go back to grade school because how the hell have they gotten this far in life?! Gosh, so much of their stupid is showing…”

You hear Suguru chuckle again and you beam at him, knowing you achieved your goal. Just to pull him out of that dark space he’s trapped himself in—whatever it is. You’re here for him. You want him to understand he’s not alone.

You press another kiss to the crown of his head. When’s the last time Suguru ever felt relaxed? Or actually happy? In a world like this and a technique like his, can he ever relax or feel happy?

You feel him slump against you as he drifts to sleep, snoring soundly. He’s more than welcome to stay, as long as he needs to. His duties back at the temple can wait. He needs to allow himself to rest.

When the semester ends, you take up Suguru’s suggestion to live with him at the temple. You don’t have plans to go back to the countryside, and your trip with them is in another week, anyway. Over time, it’s clear to you how deep his disdain for humanity runs from the way he treats his clients behind closed doors. He makes flippant remarks, and at first you wanted to believe it’s just some strange quirk of his.

An incident proves how wrong you are.

You aren’t supposed to be there. It’s your fault. But you enter the exorcism chamber seeking Suguru concerning the upcoming trip to Bali—you can’t even remember what about specifically anymore—and that’s where you see him at his most cold and heartless toward a client.

There, in the middle of the room, is an elder man cowering on his hands and knees before Suguru who possesses that hardened expression like he has other clients. Except something about this seems off. More off than usual.

“Please, Geto, I’m so sorry. I have no more money to give you, but please, please help me. I can’t take it anymore!” the man begs, and Suguru only chuckles coldly in response. He hasn’t realized you’ve entered the room yet. Or maybe he has, and he’s just begun to show you his unhinged side.

“If you have no more money for me, then I have no more use for you,” he sneers and though you can’t understand what’s happening, he snaps his fingers and some of his devotees go to retrieve the man to drag him out of the room. His eyes follow them with that hardened stare, which softens as soon as he sees his followers brush past you.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he apologizes as he approaches you. “Did you need something, baby?”

“Suguru, who was that just now?” you stammer as you clutch onto your phone, your lips pressed together as you try to make sense of what you just witnessed. Suguru doesn’t look like the man you’ve come to know to that man but now he seems to behave as if that’s nothing out of the ordinary for him.

Which maybe it isn’t, but it is out of the ordinary for you.

It just goes to show—you never really know who someone is behind closed doors, after all. You still don’t want to judge Suguru. Everyone is multifaceted. Everyone is complex. Everyone has layers. Why should you judge him, especially if you still don’t know the full story? You don’t feel like you have the agency to do so. You’ve come here on your own prerogative, because you want to help the helpless. You don’t want to be helpless yourself anymore.

Something dark flashes in his expression again and you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ah, he’s no longer a concern to the organization,” he explains, “He’s just been hoarding money he’s owed from us and then he comes to claim he has none left. So we cut business with him.”

You need to leave, you hear yourself say. You need to leave him. You need to escape. He’s not who he claims he is to you, isn’t he?

Run. An urgent voice reverberates through your head like a gong struck.

“It looked like he was…begging for your help,” you breathe, eyes downcast. “And you didn’t help him. Isn’t that what you do here?”

“We help those who are helpless themselves,” he answers with a sigh, taking your hands in his and drawing patterns into the palm which didn’t hold your phone. “And he isn’t helpless. He’s just run out of luck.”

Run. The voice repeats.

“I see,” you mutter.

“Now, what is it did you want to ask me about?” he asks with that wide smile of his that seems unsettling all of a sudden the longer you stare.

“Oh, um, nothing, I just wanted to ask you about the hotels we were staying at on our trip,” you reply, surprising yourself that you keep your voice even in spite of your heartbeat rapidly increasing and your brain screaming at you to stay away.

RUN! It roars now. You can’t ignore it. You can’t ignore your gut.

“That’s something we can discuss later.” He kisses along your knuckles. “I’ve been called to a few more meetings today. I’ll see you tonight.”

You gulp on a hard lump of nothing, but manage to nod.

“Okay,” you squeak, exiting the exorcism chamber and dashing toward your shared bedroom with Suguru. You don’t even look behind you. You’re just letting your legs carry you to your destination while your mind conjures an escape route.

You need to run. You need to get out. Before things get worse.

You burst through the door of the bedroom, seeking your suitcase which has already been set aside for the trip. You don’t want to think about that anymore. This is the perfect setup; he won’t think you’re leaving, just packing ahead for the trip, right? You doubt he’s that careless, but you can’t be careless, either. You can weasel your way out of here somehow.

You start with the small things. Then rummage through your belongings, tossing them into the suitcase as quick as you can. You freeze when you hear foot falls approaching the room, and you quickly zip up your suitcase, setting it aside.

“I doubt you’re packing ahead. You didn’t pack enough clothes for that here.” Your hairs stand on end as you hear his voice address you. “Are you planning on staying elsewhere?”

“N-no!” You lie through your teeth, whipping around to meet his calculating gaze. “I just wanted to figure out what to pack for the trip, I swear!”

“Then why did you stuff half your wardrobe in your suitcase?” His gaze flits to your backpack. “And your backpack is full of your supplies. I’m not a fool, my love, so don’t take me for one.”

“A-are you upset with me?” you stammer, twiddling your fingers.

“If you ever try to leave me, I’ll break every bone in your body and lock you away so you can’t escape,” he sneers, approaching you in a few long strides until he’s barely inches away from you. He clutches your arms in a tight, vice grip, and you yelp in shock. “Or perhaps I’ll keep you lodged in the throat of that worm curse you saw when we first met. Its useful for storing valuables like my cursed tools…or you.”

“Suguru?” Tears prick the corners of your eyes as now you’re the one cowering. What has happened? You’ve seen some signs and elected to ignore it in favor of giving him the benefit of the doubt, like everyone deserves. And look where that’s got you.

He twists one of your arms so far you can hear a few cracks and pops, and you howl in pain. “You won’t leave me.”

His grip around your arms constricts even more as he releases some of the curses he’s exorcised, surrounding you.

“You won’t leave me,” he repeats, his tone dripping in venom. “Not after you’ve shown me love I never thought I’d ever experience again.”

Again?

You feel the grimy arms of a large curse snake around your ankles and waist.

“You won’t leave me,” he says again, hie eyes darkening with something sinister. “Ever.”

[mariacallous]

Students and activists from multiple faiths are sounding the alarm over the Trump administration and lawmakers’ efforts to silence dissent on college campuses over issues like Palestinian rights — accusing officials of using allegations of antisemitism as a pretext to crush free speech and exert control over the country’s higher education system.

At a hearing Wednesday, the Senate Judiciary Committee listened to testimony related to the rise in antisemitism in the U.S., particularly after the deadly Hamas attack on Israel in October 2023. With the exception of temporary, fragile ceasefires, Israeli forces have been fighting in Gaza — and destroying infrastructure and killing civilians — ever since.

The U.S. also has seen a rise in Islamophobia since the attack, though Wednesday’s Senate hearing did not include concerns over that issue. Sen. Dick Durbin (D-Ill.), the Republican-controlled committee’s ranking member, stressed that the panel under his leadership had held multiple hearings on hate against all faiths. He added that the mother of Wadee Alfayoumi, the 6-year-old Palestinian American boy murdered by his landlord in Illinois, attended a previous hearing.

“It was clearly a hate crime, and it was based on their religion,” Durbin said. “And the fact that that was part of the hearing did not diminish in any way my strong feelings about antisemitism. It is the same hatred that we’re trying to stamp out today.”

In the spring of 2024, protests erupted on college campuses across the country, with students and faculty of all faiths peacefully demanding that the U.S. government – the Biden administration at the time – stop supporting Israel in its destruction of Gaza and the Palestinian people.

Similar to the students who protested the Vietnam War, participants faced police brutality, far-right agitators, retaliation by their schools and mostly unfounded accusations of being antisemitic. Just Wednesday, Columbia University’s Barnard College expelled a third student for participating in pro-Palestinian activism.

“It is essential we continue working to dismantle real antisemitism while also defending our friends and community members who are falsely accused of antisemitism,” Ellie Baron, a Bryn Mawr College student who is part of this year’s graduating class, said in a statement. “The only [way]forward is through forging greater solidarity with all people who are targeted by fascism and supremacist ideologies, including antisemitism and anti-Palestinian racism.”

President Donald Trump has threatened to essentially sanction universities that allow peaceful protests for Palestinian human rights, and he has even called for revoking the visas of foreign students who participate in those protests. At Wednesday’s hearing, Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Mo.) repeatedly questioned why the government should not enact Trump’s pledge todeport foreign students who commit “an act of violence against a Jewish student.”

“Well, that’s already the law,” civil liberties attorney Jenin Younes posted on X. “So everyone with a brain knows these ‘antisemitism’ related [executive orders] aren’t about prosecuting violent crime or other illegal conduct like harassment and vandalizing property. They’re about suppressing disfavored speech and you’re smart enough to know that this is a grave violation of 1A.”

Despite Trump and his allies’ statements that they care about Jewish safety, the president’s actions have done the opposite. Trump and his billionaire friend Elon Musk are behind the layoffs of at least a dozen government officials from the Education Department’s office of civil rights, which looked into students’ complaints of discrimination — including antisemitism.

The president has a history of objectively antisemitic statements, like saying that any Jewish person who votes for Democrats “hates their religion,” and implying that Jewish Americans have dual loyalty with Israel. On his first day in office this term, Trump issued full pardons to rioters who carried out the insurrection on Jan. 6, 2021, including white nationalists and others who brought antisemitic symbols to the Capitol.

Musk has also come under fire for giving a Nazi-like salute during an event, openly supporting far-right German politics and saying that society should stop paying so much attention to the Holocaust.

“It is reprehensible that MAGA senators who have aligned themselves with white nationalists and antisemites like Elon Musk are putting on this hearing to crack down on the movement for Palestinian rights and for our civil liberties writ large under the guise of fighting antisemitism,” Jewish progressive group IfNotNow said Wednesday. “We refuse to let our Jewish community be the face of the Trump-Musk administration’s attacks on our rights.”

Protecting education and open dialogue is vital to “the ability of Jewish students to succeed and thrive,” Tufts University student Meirav Solomon testified at the Senate hearing on Wednesday.

Some lawmakers support adopting the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s (IHRA) definition of antisemitism, which labels most criticism of the State of Israel as antisemitic. Civil and human rights groups – as well as the definition’s original co-author – have strongly opposed it as “overbroad” and “unconstitutional,” particularly in education spaces.

In November, a federal judge ruled that a state-level executive order threatening funding to Texas colleges and universities who don’t update campus free speech policies to include the IHRA definition of antisemitism likely violates the First Amendment.

“Distorting the meaning of antisemitism and making Jews the face of a campaign to crush free speech is deeply dangerous to Jewish Americans,” Barry Trachtenberg, presidential chair of Jewish history at Wake Forest University, said in a statement, “and all of us who work for collective liberation.”

[timbit-robin-art]

I saw your Mio doodle and now I wonder about a Light Music Club X-Men Edition.. Scott can be on drums he'd be so good at keeping time... whatever Ororo is on (because she'd slay at every instrument) she has to ALSO be on vocals because I believe that's just canon..

maybe Logan can be their roadie

Ah, K-On. My one weakness. I went a little overboard when picturing this, so whoops.

I imagine this being in a universe where there’s still mutants, but Xavier isn’t making them use their powers to fight. Instead, the institute is for learning how to control their powers/providing refuge for mutants who have nowhere else to go, and they go to a mutant/normal human mixed private school for normal education.

Here’s some of my ideas for the club members so far:

Ororo is the bass player and lead vocalist. She’s been inspired to be in a band ever since she lived on the streets as a little kid, where she saw a bass player performing live. Freshmen year of high school, she hears someone absolutely going ham on the drums, and finds Scott playing on his own. It took a while, but she finally convinced Scott to join her. She’s the heart and soul of the group, and main character along with Scott. I don’t see her living at the institute, though Xavier keeps the offer open. Instead, she may live with a 19/20 year old Gambit, who’s living off of the Guild’s money and trying to lay low.

Scott is the drum player. After Xavier picked him off of the streets, he got a bit lost in the mansion and discovered a drum set in the music room (I imagine it used to belong to Erik/Magnus). Xavier sees that the boy has natural rhythm, and decides to find him a teacher. Scott forms a middle school band with the O5, but they had a falling out, causing everyone to go their separate ways. However, Scott is still very passionate about the drums, which is why he eventually joins Ororo. He may be more pessimistic, but his passion for the drums is more than enough to keep him going.

Kurt is the pianist. He’s a transfer student from Germany and has always wanted to be a part of a band like Ororo. It was him that suggested the idea of forming an actual club, and he’s the big idealist/optimist of the group. I can see him not knowing too much on how to play piano, minus the basics he learned from his mother (she taught him how to play despite his three fingers), so when he moves into the institute, Xavier teaches him how to play better. Even though there are some people at school who treat him just as bad as the mobs from his home, he’s still willing to get out there and play with the group.

Hank is the guitarist. He used to be a part of the same group as Scott, but after everyone split a part, he stopped playing entirely. I can see him being intrigued by the talk of a “light music club,” but after seeing Scott was there, he wants nothing to do with it. Eventually, he joins a practice session after Ororo gets through to him, and he realizes just how much he misses playing. Scott and him have the friends-turned-hostile-turned-back-into-friends relationship. Unlike the other three O5 members, his love for music trumps any hostile feelings after the falling out, and he’s willing to give it another go.

Ah, but you can’t have a club without a faculty member as your sponsor;

Mr. Logan was the only available candidate for this. After a lot of begging (and promises that they’d wash his motorcycle every weekend), they eventually get him on board. He pretends to hate it, but it slowly becomes obvious that he has a soft spot for the group. He sees the passion they all have, and it reminds him of when he was younger (hmm… what if Logan was the bass player Ororo saw when she was younger…).

Of course, if we follow K-On, we must have a 5th member that joins later on. I have no idea who that could be. I think there’s a lot of fun ideas depending on who.

[ionlyeatcomfortfood]

First Encounter

The first meeting of Reese Manta and the prefect of Ramshackle

A/N: Is this good? Is it cringe? I can't even tell anymore

Reese belongs to @kokii-omii , Dixie belongs to me

For context in case you get confused, "beastkeeper" is a job I made up for Dixie based on the fact that Crowley calls Yuu a beast keeper in the prologue. Their job is basically being a zookeeper/vet for all of the non-humanoid magical creatures that make their home at NRC. They're technically both a member of the faculty and a student (Crowley makes them do A LOT of things). The beast stable is located a little ways away from the coliseum.

I hope you enjoy <3

---

Reese met the new prefect of the Ramshackle dorm for the first time under the cover of night, both of them out far past curfew. The cool night air was comforting to him, and on the rare occasion when sleep managed to evade him, he would slip out of him room silently and take a walk around campus. He never lingered long in one place, always aware that he could stumble upon someone that could more trouble than he cared to deal with. But on that particular night, he found himself waiting at the edge of the beast stable when he heard a squawk and a hushed human response.

Curiosity got the better of him and he slipped into the stable. His gaze landed on the far pen where a large griffin was flapping its wings and squawking as the prefect held their hands up appeasingly.

"I know, I know. You're being so brave Cupcake," they murmured. "Only a little bit more of the gross medicine and then you're all done."

Reese had heard many things about the prefect since the beginning of the school year. Rumors and speculation followed them around like a shadow, but what was said conflicted so often that it was hard to piece together what was true. There were a couple he knew couldn't possibly be true (there was no way the prefect was already friends with Malleus Draconia), more that seemed unlikely (as foolish as the headmage was, he likely wouldn't assign a new student the position of beastkeeper), and even more that could be possible. But as he watched them pet the griffin—the aforementioned Cupcake, he assumed—and gently feed it the last of its medicine, he quickly disregarded the few mentions of cruelty. This was not someone who was capable of the things he was.

As he considered whether or not to slip out, the prefect turned and noticed him at the door. But instead of yelping in fear like he might have assumed, they simply blinked and smiled at him.

"Good evening! Do you need something?" they asked, walking over to join him.

Now that they were closer, he could take in their appearance more easily. Their light brown hair was messily tied back at the nape of their neck, their face and hands were covered in tiny cuts and bruises that he assumed they got from Cupcake, and the dark eyebags implied many sleepless nights. In addition to the workbag filled with animal feed and brushes hanging off their shoulder, all signs seemed to confirm that the prefect was in fact the new beastkeeper. Intriguing.

He shook his head no, not bothering to hide the amused smirk on his face. When it was clear that he wasn't going to respond anymore, the prefect stuck out their hand. "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Dixie, housewarden of Ramshackle."

Calling themself the housewarden of that old shabby shed was humorous enough to make him laugh. They seemed a little surprised at the response, but not offended.

"Pardon me if I'm wrong, but are you Reese Manta?" they asked, lowering their hand back to their side.

He hadn't realized he was so infamous that they might have heard of him. He nodded, and they seemed to brighten up.

"Oh good! I figured you were one of the twins, but it took me a moment to think of which you might be. Floyd mentioned that you were the quieter of the two, and also some of the other Octavinelle students told me that your brother has a very strict sleeping regimen, so I figured it had to be you!"

Their meaningless chatter was a bit dull, but his attention caught on a peculiar sight in their eyes. The black irises were not uncommon, but the pupils glowed with a faint red hue. Almost like embers in a dying fire. He was so focused on the odd light that he didn't notice that Dixie had finished speaking until they cleared their throat.

"Is there something on my face?" they asked with a nervous chuckle.

He shook his head again.

"Oh good. I was worried I had pegasus feathers all over my face again. Grim let me walk around with them for a full three hours last time before finally telling me why everyone was looking at me so strangely."

Again with the meaningless chatter. Reese was beginning to doubt whether the prefect was all that interesting when the light in their eyes flared up, deepening the red tint. Without thinking, he leaned forward to watch it, seeing if it would do anything else. He barely noticed as Dixie's face started to turn red as well.

"You have lovely eyes," he murmured before turning and walking out. It was getting late, after all. He had plenty of time to unravel that particular mystery.

He chuckled to himself as he heard the sputtering embarrassment of the prefect, walking in the shadows back to his dorm.

[fiercestpurpose]

So you want to go to grad school: An FAQ for people considering a humanities PhD in the US

There’s a lot of qualifiers in the title of this post and that’s because I can really only speak to the specific experience that is humanities PhDs in the US. Science PhDs are different, PhDs in Britain are different, getting a master’s is different.

I’m an English PhD student. I have friends in the comparative literature, Middle Eastern studies, religious studies, classics, history, and art history departments. My information is based on my own experiences as well as theirs but should not be taken as 100% true in all cases.

The following questions are addressed under the cut:

What does getting a PhD involve?

Where should I apply? / How should I decide where to apply?

Should I get a master’s degree first?

What does PhD funding look like?

What kind of jobs can I get with a humanities PhD?

Why should I not get a PhD?

1. What does getting a PhD involve?

Broadly speaking, there are three stages to getting a PhD:

coursework

exams

dissertation

The requirements for these will be different at each university/in each department.

Coursework means taking classes; sometimes these will be grad-only classes and sometimes they will be grad/undergrad combined classes. How many classes and which classes you’re required to take will depend on the program you’re looking at.

Additionally, many programs will have foreign language requirements. They might require that you learn German and French or they might require any three languages; it depends.

The exams are the tests you take to prove that you are ready to be a PhD candidate. These vary from school to school and department to department. (Are you sensing a theme yet?) Exams can be written (whether that’s a standard short-answer exam or a longer series of essays), oral (answering questions posed by faculty or giving a presentation), or a combination.

The dissertation is the long paper that proves you’re ready to do academic work. Typically, this is a book-length document (roughly 200 pages, but again, it depends) that presents a research project. Some departments allow students to do alternative dissertations (video projects, coding projects, creative projects), but that depends on the school and the department. Finishing and defending/presenting your dissertation is typically the last step to getting your PhD.

All requirements vary by school and department, so make sure you check what each school you’re applying to would require of you.

2. Where should I apply? / How should I decide where to apply?

The key here is FIT, not prestige.

The main thing to consider, in my opinion, is what you want to study. If you’re really into Judaism academically, you don’t want to go to a religious studies department that doesn’t have any Jewish studies scholars, even if it’s a really good department! Look at what classes are offered, what the professors are interested in, and what the current grad students are interested in. This should all be on the website.

Also, I recommend talking to your advisor in your field/the person who will be writing your recommendation letters. They probably have some knowledge of the field and what schools are good for what you want to study.

Besides that, some other things to consider:

Location — You have to live there for around five years or more, so you want to make sure it’s somewhere you can tolerate. The political climate of Florida or the literal climate of upstate New York might put you off of those places.

Department size — Small departments can be hotbeds of drama; large departments can make you feel like you’re getting lost in the shuffle. What is going to work best for you?

Vibe — What’s the grad student culture like? Do the graduate students hang out with each other outside of classes? Is it cliquey? Is it cutthroat? The best way to figure this out is to talk to some current grad students in the department.

Degrees — Does the school give you a master’s degree on your way to a PhD? This is important because you might change your mind after three years, and you want to have a master’s degree to show for those three years.

Funding — This one is less for applications and more for picking a school once you have your offers because it’s hard to know about funding ahead of time, but you can ask how funding is typically handled.

I applied to twelve places for undergrad but only five for grad school. The “safety school” logic of undergrad doesn’t really apply to PhD programs, and there’s usually not a point to applying anywhere you feel wouldn’t be a good fit. If circumstances permit, it’s better to take a year off for a job (or to stay in your current job) and apply again next year than to go somewhere that wouldn’t be a good fit.

3. Should I get a master’s degree first?

Ehhhh maybe? It depends on your circumstances.

Pros of getting a master’s first:

It makes you a more competitive candidate for PhD programs.

It’s a good way to feel out the field and get an idea of what you might want your area to be without committing to a full PhD program (which is usually at least a five-year commitment) immediately.

It can help you become more confident in your knowledge and your writing and research skills.

If you find you don’t want to continue with academia, you will still have a master’s degree, and they can be useful.

Cons:

Master’s degrees cost money (usually).

If you do two years of a master’s degree, you might still have to do two years of coursework in your PhD program, so it adds to the overall time until you have your degree.

For me, the extra time and money were really big strikes against the master’s degree, but that was based on my specific circumstances. Your circumstances may be different.

To be clear, master’s degrees don’t always cost money - it’s possible to get fellowships that cover the cost of tuition completely. But, based on what I’ve seen, master’s funding usually happens semester by semester, while PhD funding is based on a contract, so you know ahead of time how many years you’re guaranteed funding for. More about PhD funding in the next question.

4. How does PhD funding work?

It, like everything else, depends on the school and department.

Generally, funding is composed of two parts:

tuition remission — money you don’t have to pay the school for tuition

a stipend — money the school gives you, often in exchange for some labor (teaching or assisting a professor with research)

When you get accepted, you should get an offer letter outlining what your funding looks like and how many years of funding you are guaranteed. Sometimes, the school will guarantee only four or five years of funding even though they know that it takes the average student more time than that to complete their PhD. Sometimes there may be opportunities for post-contract funding (funding beyond what is guaranteed) and sometimes there aren’t.

The advice you’ll hear is that you should not pay for a PhD. You should not have to pay anything in tuition and you should not have to take out loans to cover living expenses.

How feasible this advice is in the modern day is going to depend on your field, but I think it’s a good baseline to work from. Go in with the expectation that you won’t have to pay and then moderate your ideas from there. Personally, I did have to pay for one semester of tuition.

The amount of work you’re expected to do to earn your stipend and how livable a stipend it will be are also factors that depend on where you go. Some places expect you to TA for one class a semester, some places expect you to solo teach two classes a semester, and some places give you the money in exchange for you simply continuing your studies.

The best way to find out about funding at a particular location is to talk to current grad students.

5. What kind of jobs can I get with a humanities PhD?

Great question!

PhDs train you for a very specific job: doing academic research. There are not that many jobs out there that you can get that involve doing academic research. There are, very generally, three categories of jobs:

Faculty positions

Alt-ac positions

Other positions

The ideal job that most PhD students want is a tenure-track faculty job that involves both teaching and research. There are other faculty jobs that are not tenure track, such as short-term appointments like “visiting professor” or “adjunct professor.” There are also positions that are long-term contract positions but not tenured, like teaching positions.

Alt-ac stands for alternative academic positions. This means positions that are in academia but are not teaching or research positions. This includes writing center professionals, administrative positions, and academic advisors.

Other. This is everything else, and I’m not really the best person to speak on this, as I’m not super informed. One option is consulting, as consulting firms like to recruit humanities PhDs for their problem-solving skills, but that’s a very specific option (and in my opinion, a not-very-moral one). Another option is teaching at the high school level, which of course comes with its own problems. There are also field-specific opportunities. Art history PhDs, for instance, often end up working in art museums.

The best way to find out about what your options might be professionally is to talk to people who have recently gotten their PhD in the field or to faculty members who have been keeping tabs on the recent PhD grads.

6. Why should I not get a PhD?

To be honest, you probably didn’t ask this question, but I feel obliged to answer it anyway.

I have a couple of warnings about getting a PhD. First, grad school is hard for many people. Grad school may be difficult for your mental health, especially if you rely on having a set structure, have a history of depression, or suffer from impostor syndrome. This isn’t to say that people who have depression shouldn’t go to grad school (that would be hypocritical!), but just to say that you should be aware that it might present challenges.

The second reason is more practical, and that is that academia is not particularly healthy right now. The job market isn’t good, and funding is getting cut for all disciplines. It may be hard monetarily while you are in grad school, and it may continue to be hard even after you have a PhD. The current presidential administration has definitely made this worse, but we have been seeing trends in this direction for at least twenty years.

Getting a PhD is a lot of work, it can negatively affect your mental health, and it does not guarantee you a job at the end of it. I would encourage you to talk to PhD students in your field or any young professors to get a sense of whether or not getting a PhD is right for you.

If you have any other questions, feel free to ask me and I will answer to the best of my ability. Or ask a grad student or professor in your field!

[gritsandbrits]

The Impostor (Chase Young Selfship)

During a tryst with Chase, my self insert notices something odd about him. Did he really have a makeover as he claims or is there something else sinister brewing behind the scenes? Chase Young x OC/Self Insert. Contains a LOT of Chronicles bashing and creepy behavior. You have been warned.

Moonlight fell upon the temple roofs, a gentle breeze making the trees sway softly as a lullaby. The monks had retired for the evening, all except one. Being a part of faculty she had her own cottage away from the main quarters so she didnt have to worry about disturbing the students. Despite this, she was very careful not to make too much noise, which wasn't easy when she couldn't barely contain her excitement.

Miss Nia sat on her vanity finishing her hairstyle. She had on a deep purple quipao dress with a golden dragon on the skirt. Her face and bare arms shimmered with homemade glitter lotion make her skin glow like polished bronze. She was getting ready to meet a certain someone for their weekly tryst in the forest. They had only started dating a few weeks ago, and had agreed to meet in the forest every week. She even put on her favorite perfume. He said he had liked it after they had faced each other in a showdown.

Nia giggled. To think it was possible to date someone on the opposite side of good, especially someone as infamous as Chase Young.

When they first met they were purely enemies. He'd say something to get under her skin and she responded in kind. She took great pleasure in referring to him as a geezer on magic steroids. In time it became very clear that the differences in morality wasn't immune to the natural instinct of human attraction.

The immortal villain was intrigued by the woman, her quiet strength brimming with a fire that refused to be extinguished. It culminated with Chase capturing her along with Omi to make her his dark bride, this was when he and wuya had very briefly taken over the world, but a soccer game managed to win their freedom.

Since then, and more encounters after that, it became obvious to everyone on both sides that the two had a thing for each other.

Like, liked liked each other.

The flirty looks they'd shoot each other before during and after a scuffle. The time when chase got injured and he let her touch him so she coulf tend to his wounds. The inside jokes about Tai Chi.

There was more than enough proof there being something more than frenemies.

As much as Chase and Nia tried to deny it, eventually they decided that it was better to act on those feelings now then wait until things get too out of hand. So they decided to meet in secret, away from prying eyes and a jealous duo, on the condition that neither bring weapons or shen gong wu. No evil business or attempts to sway him to the light side. Where there was no heylin or xiaolin. Just two adults doing what normal people their age did when they had time to spare.

Once she figured out a style that she felt looked the best (a twist out) she grabbed her phone, a ratty blanket, and headed out of the cottage. She looked around for a moment ttaking sure no one was up before walking into the forest. She had her phone to check the time. She didn't want to wake up to an unwanted search party. A good ten minutes later she made it to the pond she dubbed "swan lake." It was a gorgeous body of water teeming with lotus and waterlilies, the water sparkling under the moon like stained glass in a church. A wooden bridge arched over the water decorated with vines. According to xiaolin legend, it was created by a pair of previous Dragons of Water and Nature as a declaration of their love.

Nia spread the blanket on the grass and waited for her darkhaired lover. It was only the lullaby of the trees and lake that kept her company. She checked the time on her phone and frowned. Usually he would be here popping up beside her or levitating from a perch above. He may be an evil warlord but he was also punctual.

Time passed and after a bout of Dessert Break, Nia was starting to feel frustrated. No way he could've forgotten about their date. "Or  maybe he's too caught up in evil busines," the Xiaolin mistress muttered to herself. For a second she was afraid that he might have ghosted her. Love had no place in the Heylin. Perhaps Chase decided a few weeks of entertaining her fantasies was enough to get it out of his system. He could have at least sent one of his big cats to tell her the news.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard something rustling in the background. Years of training instilled an immediate response to noise. She jumped into a boxing stance. "Chase is that you?"

Suddenly she heard a deep rumbling noise, as if somebody was laughing at her. She wrinkled her nose her frustration glowing. "If your doing this to scare me Chase then you could've brought Wuya without her makeup," she groused. Again the laughter got louder as if getting a sick amusement from seeing her upset.

"Im warning you you'll be wishing you never eaten that godawful soup when I'm done with you," Nia snapped.

"My dear you look so much lovelier when you're... all worked up." Said a deep voice that sounded nothing like the one Chase had.

"Who are you?" Nia asked.

As soon as she spoke a figure stepped out from the shadows. She gasped when she saw who it was.

"Ch-Chase?"

Chase Young, the Heylin Prince of Darkness and her bedtime buddy, stood in full view smiling wickedly at her.

She was like a present on a holiday, catered just for him. And the choice of dress wasn't too bad either. Fit for a Heylin Bride. He licked his lips but forced himself to contain his urges. He didn't want to frighten away his pawn.

Nia stared at Chase, her mouth agape until she took her hand and closed her jaw. "You look different," she stammered as he slithered towards her. Once he got close enough she reached out to trail her fingers down his face. His jawline was slender as if he has gotten plastic surgery from someone who based their knowledge on youtube makeup tutorials.

"I thought... it was time to give myself a makeover, for the new year of course," the draconian warrior purred as he nestled his face into her hands. His tongue peaked out to lick at the tips of her fingers. Nia drew back suddenly. Chase would kiss the back of her hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Im sorry it's just, your new look is gonna take me some time to get used to," she said, leading him to sit down with her on the blanket. He sat down next to her laying back with one arm propping his face. Thanks to the light she got a clear look at him. His armor looked the same except the gold lining were thinner.

"You have nothing to worry about my dear," said Chase as he wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her close. He buried his face into her neck getting a good whiff of her perfume. Jasmine. He poked his tongue out again to lick at her pulse point. Nia shuddered. Chase continued ravishing her neck with kisses, growling at the slight hitches she would make. Nia clung to his shoulder pads. "Since..hah...since when did you get so, bold-ah!"

"Let's just say you are absolutely ravishing tonight my darkeyed beauty," Chase mumbled into her skin. As he continued his feast, Nia couldn't shake of her lingering sense of dread. Maybe he had changed his looks with magic but that still didn't ease her mind. Him getting right into making out wasn't like him, most nights she had to work for it by fighting him in a duel. Or maybe his dragon side was in heat. Still she couldn't really enjoy his kisses as much as she usually does.

When she had enough she asked him to let go, but he refused. His kisses only increased with greater passion. She pawed at his armor notso gently

"Okay stop-hah~" she choked on her sentence as she felt his teeth nipped the area between her neck and shoulder blade. God how was she going to explain this to her kids tomorrow?

"Mhmm, delicious." The green male pulled her closer until her breasts were completely smushed into the metal plating of his chest. He even snaked a hand down her back and pinched her butt!

Nia jumped. "Okay that's enough!" Her shout cutting through the quiet of the forest. Her lover drew back, His amber eyes burning with lust, mouth shimmering faintly from being buried in her neck.

"Oooh somebody is getting feisty," he moaned as he licked traces of body glimmer from his lips. "I can smell your desire for me."

"Can you give a girl a little warning next time?" Nia asked, feebly trying to play off her discomfort with a laugh. Chase started laughibg his deep voice echoing through the forest and sending chills done her spine. Not the good kind of chill but one that made the pit in her stomach worse.

"Forgive me for being so...rough my dear but i could not help but be entranced by your bewitching scent," said the Heylin warrior. He leered over her as if eager for seconds. She leaned away from him. Either she was tripping or did he change more than his looks?

"I think its getting late," she spoke up suddenly. For a second thought she saw a look of disgust on his face before settling into an arrogant grin.

"And why? I've just got here," said the heylin prince.

"I have to get back to the temple, i need to get some sleep or i might fall asleep in the middle of teaching," she said. She adjusted the neckline of her dress before gathering her things. "Besides I don't know if youre in heat and I dont know if we take it too far you might lose control-"

"Darling Im always in control."

Nia fixed him a look before nodding. Maybe this was the real chase and she was just being paranoid. "It was nice being with you again."

Chase leaned back against a tree. "It was good getting a real taste of you. Perhaps next time we can have a full banquet." He licked his lips at the thought of devouring her like a real man should. The Xiaolin teacher blushed at his words and scamper back towards the complex.

As Chase watched her go he began cackling to himself. "Oh yessss, you have nothing to worry about indeed, my new bride," he muttered. He was feeling very pleased with himself. Soon he will have not only full control of the world but a hot babe at his side too! His minion had already taken of those filthy beasts.

At the mountain fortress, a woman with long teal hair and wearing purple and black armor smirked as she looked over the unconscious felines.

"Not so tough now arent ya?" She taunted them. "Oh wait you cant hear me." She cackled. Thanks to the sleeping spell she put them in, the so called army of ferocious warriors were as harmless as kittens. She looked up at the other man sitting in the sphere of yun. He was quiet but eyes were burning with a rage that could melt the glass around him.

"Oh dont give me that look," she mocked, feigning sympathy. "You should be happy we're only sparing your life."

The legitimate prince of the Heylin seethed then calmed himself. Clearly he made an error in judgement when the two scam artists showed up at his door and blindsided him and his army. They might have won this round but he wasn't going to let them enjoy victory either.

"And someone should spare you from the ugly clothing. At least the insect puts an effort to coordinate his outfits." Chase smirked at the look of offense on her face. She hissed at him then turned away with a pout. She hoped her master can get back here soon so they can deal with his other self.

** this ends the first chapter in a story that might not not ever be completed. The idea came from my recent rewatch of the og show, which also brought back my negative feelings for the awful reboot. Seriously Chronicles butchered every single good thing about the original. Espcially my f/o Chase Young. So I will not be kind to it. Plus I was disappointed with the lack of Chase young x OC/reader, and i got tired of seeing Chack all the time, so think of it as my way of filling in the gap. And if anyone says im writing xc!chase and shadow ooc: i am writing then exactly how they are in the show, only now they have their mary sue license revoked, so their creepy relationship is treated like the garbage it really is.**

[alpaca-clouds]

Doing Science in a Solarpunk Future

Yesterday I talked a bit about the ethics of animal testing (just to reiterate: Yes, if it is for medical use, I think it just cannot be circumvented, unless you want people to die of all sorts of preventable and treatable issues). But today I want to talk about science in broader way - and what is going wrong in it right now.

Everyone who follows me who themseves is working in academia knows this, but a lot of other people don't: science is having quite a lot of issues right now. Has been having them for years and years for that matter.

Depending on the country you live in, there are a couple of different approaches to doing science. The most traditional one is obviously doing it at an university or a similar institute for science and learning. However, you can also do science for companies, and you obviously can do science under government contracts (which usually is a nice way of saying: You are doing science for military use). Mind you, university science in some countries get treated as government work - at least if it is a public university. Germany, where I live, thankfully has a provision in our laws about this (basically, the military cannot use any scientific things unless the scientist explicitly allows for it), but other countries don't.

Which brings me to the general problem. You might have heard of it: Science is kinda underfunded. Because for years and years the governments generally have reduced the budgets of universities. This hits the humanities even harder, but the MINT faculties also tend to be hit with budget cuts every so often - while the same time more and more stuff needs to be done by more bureaucratic means. As David Graeber writes in his book Bullshit Jobs: Scientists and teachers are forced to become more and more "box tickers" (so people who do government assigned documentation work, not because it is acutlaly needed, but because it is ordered).

And while we are on it: If you have not tenure (meaning: if you are not a professor), you will be paid shit either way. Which kinda sucks, because it makes fucking as hell sure that only people from rich families - or who have a rich spouse - can afford to do this.

Just as an example: I will start working for my university in a couple months. How ever, the university uses the same contracts for everyone. And those have not changed in a couple of years. Inflation happened. Right now doing the job parttime will not allow me to make enough money to pay for my bare necessities. It will not be enough to pay rent, insurance, and food. Because it is just so low. (About 950€ a month.) This works for folks who have other means of money or family who pays for stuff - but not for an orphan like me.

And while I obviously will start as "student assistent", even other folks - like PhD candidates and stuff - will get paid fairly poorly for the work they do and how important that work is to keep the university running.

Even once you have your masters or even your PhD. If you do not have tenure, universities will pay you worth - especially in MINT - than any other job you could take with that degree. Basically, they are building on the entire idea that the honor of doing science is enough payment. Just that honor does not pay bills.

But lets talk about science itself. Though the problem kinda is still the same: money and bureacracy.

I am not going to argue, that there should be some hurdles for science to make sure that the sciene done ideally is ethical and such. Absolutely. No argument from me. However, right now there is a ton of unnecessary hurdles to try and do a project. And often enough, even if you are at a university, the budget the university has for a single project, will not be enough to pay the scientists and their assistants and whatever material might be needed for it. So a lot of scientists will have to ask at other places for funding. At times you can get funds from groups that just help science for science's sake - but often this means either companies (who will then make money with anything you come up with) or government (who, if your country allows for it, might use anything in the military).

Which also brings us to the problems between MINT and humanities. While this is from Utah, there was this wonderful poster, that I feel sums it up really well:

Mind you, from my experience so far, there are quite a lot of scientists, who would like to have someone from humanities on certain projects. But those are usually not within the budget. And while all in all a lot of folks in science are screaming for more interdisciplinary research... Getting the university to finance that is often a fucking nightmare. Partly, because the different faculties basically get budgeted differently. So if you work together with 5 faculties, how might they ever budget that?

Of course, if you get to do research these days also will largely depend on three things:

Are you already a very well known scientist in your field, who might even have won some accolades? Great, you might go ahead with your project.

Otherwise: Will there be a way to monetize this science later on? If so, well, we will certainly find some way to do this.

Finally: Will it be something super prestigeous which will enhance the name of the university and get you published in one of those very fancy science journals? If so: Amazing, this will work too. But don't you dare to find out that the thing you theorized does not work. Journals do not like "we tried this, and it did not work, because..." papers.

I think you can see the issues coming up, here, right?

In recent years there are again and again scandals of "scientist X faked their results" or "actually everyone at university Y faked their results". And this tends to be bound to the last point.

See, right now, if you get to keep your academic job is largely dependend on whether you publish a lot of papers - ideally in some well known magazine. If you are in natural science, you totally want to get something published in NATURE or SCIENCE. And if you do medicine, you should at some point publish something in the New England Journal of Medicine. You know, to enhance the reputation of the university, who kindly is paying you a bad salary (as long as you do not have tenure).

To make simple: this does not work, and it creates the wrong incentives.

Mind you, most people who are in science right now do indeed do what they do, because they want to do something for science and humanity. They love what they do.

But of course it does not need to be that way.

Which is where we get to the Solarpunk aspect of this all. Because yeah, it is easy to imagine how it could work a whole lot better.

Technically this would already start if we just had a system that took care of everyone's basic needs and a bit extra. Be it because we had communism, or because we had something like UBI. (Reminder: Yes, I am a communist, but I will take UBI over nothing, thank you very much.) In this case, at least the problem of scientists not making enough money to take care of their family would just go away. Because the families would be taken care of.

We also need just more options with folks from different disciplines to work together. We know for a fact, that the best results will happen, if diverse disciplines cooperate, because it creates a mix of ideas that will work a whole lot better for everyone, than just the same nerds with the same focus sitting together.

But of course: While man-hours are the biggest money-sink in a lot of research, we also need a better way to finance equipment. Both those kinda of equipment we already technically have as a society - and those that people want to get to work (I don't know, stuff like CERN, which was obviously a massively expensive project to be built). Because those projects might be needed to push science ahead.

Most people who work at universities indeed do it right now, beause they care about whatever they do. (Let's face it, a lot of folks are undiagnosed in terms of one flavor of one neurodivergency or another.) But this should not mean that they have to do the work in a way that endangers them in terms of allowing their families to thrive or basically forbid them of taking care of their pensions.

And of course... the bureaucracy. It needs to go. Do not make researchers fill out weekly forms for some bullshit that nobody will look at at any point.

I think we could be a lot further in certain areas of research. This goes for humanities either way (the stuff we could have found and researched in history - if you guys only knew how MANY UNTRANSLATED MANUSCRIPTS THERE ARE), but it goes for science, too. Chances are, we could have come with certain solutions to serve environmentalism and such, if folks could just do the research they actually wanted.

[abigailspinach]

Harvard Letter

You’ve likely seen that Harvard officially and publicly refused the Trump White House’s latest set of demands. You can see the letter here. I would say that if you’re going to read only one letter, it should actually be the one the White House (notionally the GSA, HHS and Education) sent to Harvard, which the university published along with its response.

It’s a very clarifying letter. It’s not too much to say it essentially demands operational control over the whole university or perhaps more specifically a kind of receivership of the sort police departments sometimes go into under consent to decrees after they’re caught framing or torturing prisoners. When I first read it I was not … well, certainly not happy to see it but it occurred to me that the demands were not only substantively of an indefensible character but also very tenuous legally. It’s good to have this fight on these grounds because, as I said, they demand to put the entire university under the direct control, down to hiring, curriculum, admissions and more, of MAGA operatives. It’s been suggested to me by one person familiar with the university’s decision-making that waiting for the White House to spell out all its demands on paper may have been by design to put the university’s refusal on the surest legal footing. If that’s the case, it was smart to wait.

I’d really recommend reading the letter. Among other things, it requires the university to hire a cadre of White House-approved commissars to ensure that MAGA conservatives are equally represented, not only at the university level but at each individual department, teaching and research “unit” — both in hiring and admissions. The White House demands that every department and unit be “audited” by the outside commissar group for “viewpoint diversity.” Each department or unit found not to have sufficient MAGA representation (defined as “viewpoint diversity”) “must be reformed by hiring a critical mass of new faculty” to “provide viewpoint diversity.” Same language but with respect to admissions. Any department or unit which lacks MAGA representation must admit a bunch of new, MAGA, “viewpoint diverse” students. Again, it’s just one example.

I’ll also note that, as of today, the university’s webpage has been remade into essentially an advertisement for the societal/human impact of university research. The splash headline is “Research Powers Progress” followed by the tagline line: “Research at Harvard — from medicine to technology to education and business — touches countless lives, moving us closer to disease cures, next-generation technology, and a more secure future for millions of people.”

I don’t want to be too fawning. But this is how you do it.

[mothhball]

Prologue

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary Your mentor is unhappy with your career choices. But her worries only serve to make you more curious.

warnings none! this is just a little prologue

notes a little intro to kick things off. I'll shortly post the first chapter as well haha Also, Potomac is just a name I borrowed from the DC universe. I know it's different in the comics, so don't shoot me please <3

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.1k

“Look… I just don’t get why you wouldn’t want to go back to Potomac. From what I’ve read in your sophomore internship review, Dr. Rabin was genuinely impressed with you and said he’d be excited to have you back for the Senior internship. What happened? I – I would’ve understood anything, really. But Arkham? You really applied there?”

Professor Campbell’s office is a time capsule. A familiar, cozy environment that you’ve been inhabiting for a whole hour per week since the start of the last semester. Decorated with undemanding potted plants and cheesy motivational posters on the walls around you. The smell of paper and hibiscus hangs in the dry air, warmed up to an almost uncomfortable temperature by the ever-running radiator mounted to the wall. Usually, your presence in this room is accompanied by a sense of inner peace. One hour per week during which you’re allowed to fantasize about a glowing future as you sit in front of your academic mentor. But today, the tiny woman with the prominent smile lines is looking at you with thinly-veiled indignation. It’s an ugly expression on her, you decide. People like Campbell are better off smiling and laughing, like the human embodiment of a Golden Retriever.

You shift in your seat, resisting the urge to gesture with your hands to avoid seeming defensive. No, you keep your posture open and inviting on purpose. The body language of a genuine person.

“Potomac Psychiatric Hospital is just not what I want,” you start, speaking gently in an effort to make her emphasize with you. “I need a challenge. I don’t want to hang around rich people with mild cases of burnout all the time.”

Professor Campbell’s face scrunches up with mild displeasure, and you feel the need to quickly correct yourself.

“No offense, of course. But my main interest does lie in… the tough cases. And there are tough cases at Potomac. Jeremiah Arkham himself called his asylum the ‘Ivy League of insanity’. And Dr. Crane used to be a professor here. You knew him, right?”

Campbell flinches, and you could swear you were able to see an expression of genuine fear in her eyes for a fraction of a second. And for that fraction of a second, you were speaking to a prey animal instead of your favorite psychology professor.

“Well… Professor Crane – Doctor Crane was a… well-known member of the faculty. By which I mean everyone knew of him and the kind of seminars he held. Nobody really knew anything about the man aside from his special interest in fear-based disorders and most likely crippling caffeine addiction. Back when I knew him, he was… eccentric to say the least. But he knew what he was teaching about. Students fled his lecture hall as soon as he was done speaking, but he really was a brilliant mind. He was a professor for a reason, after all.”

You nod along to her words, unable to stop that little spark of personal curiosity from growing and festering within you. If everything goes well, you’d be able to witness firsthand how peculiar this man is for the entire summer. Much to her dismay, Campbell’s tales only serve to encourage your decision.

“So, if the two of you knew each other, there’s already a networking opportunity here,” you conclude, folding your hands in your lap.

“Yes but –“

“Also, Arkham is right here in Gotham. I don’t have to rent a new apartment anywhere else, I already know the city, and so on and so forth.” You feel a little bad for cutting her off, but it’s almost ridiculous how much she’s trying to dissuade you from your plans. Campbell doesn’t bother to hide her displeasure anymore, letting out a sigh as she taps a manicured nail against the porcelain of her teacup.

“Listen,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “we’ve had many students apply to Arkham Asylum for an internship over the years. And those whose spirits didn’t get crushed during the interview were worn down by the work itself. Besides, the influx of applications is monumental. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even get invited to the interview. In my humble opinion, you should write Potomac an email and – “

“I already got invited.” Campbell’s eyes widen, and the silence prompts you to continue. It’s a little difficult to not seem smug as you speak, but you manage. “The interview is this Friday.”

“Friday…” Campbell reaches out for her cup of tea, trying to wash away the bitter taste on her tongue with a mouthful of hibiscus and apple. In that moment, you feel a little bad for the professor. She’s always tried to make time for you and dutifully offered help wherever she could. And in return, you’re acting childish, trying to incite a one-sided contest over an internship. You let out a sigh along with her, shifting in your seat; softening up.

“This is… something that’s really important to me,” you offer, trying to apologize without saying it. “Potomac was a huge help for getting into the swing of things. I… learned a lot about the basics. And for anyone else, that hospital is the perfect match. But I don’t want to graduate, secretly doubting whether I’ll ever be ready for the real work. I know Arkham is a baptism by fire. But it’s what I need.”

Campbell hums in response, stirring a third sugar cube into her tea. It’s just a habit to keep her hands busy at this point. You’re pretty sure the crystals don’t even dissolve anymore.

“Besides,” you continue, smiling at her because you know this will give her at least a shred of hope, “even though I got through to the interview, I might not even get an internship spot. So… this entire conversation might be redundant anyway.”

This gets you the response you were hoping for, and the professor nods thoughtfully as the smile you’re used to returns to her face. She sounds relieved when she answers you.

“If that should happen, I’m sure you could still send an application to Dr. Rabin and he’ll have you on his team in no time at all. Oh, why am I even worrying? You’ll figure it out.”

You nod, feeling in real time how your smile relaxes into something more genuine. Suddenly, the warmth in the room doesn’t feel oppressive anymore. As the mood switches to something more cheerful, the two of you talk some more about your final thesis before you decide to end the conversation on a good note. Campbell rises from her seat along with you, and you mirror her smile, relieved to finally be done with this interrogation. Your mentor heads to the door after you, gently patting your shoulder.

“Let me walk with you. At least until the staff lounge. I need a fresh cup of tea.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @seaamonster

@rosiemarieyn @sagepixieswrld

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Wile E. Weston

"The Coyote could stop anytime — if he were not a fanatic. (Repeat: 'A fanatic is one who redoubles his effort when he has forgotten his aim.')." — Chuck Jones' third rule of creating Road Runner cartoons.

For the Prompts: Wes knows that Danny is durable and heals quickly. He decides the best way to reveal Danny's secret is to publicly orchestrate an "accident" that would kill a normal human. [from @maxattax], Iced out [from @faeriekit], and GRAVEYARD PLAYGROUND [from @ashspecter]

Read also on AO3

[Warnings for cartoon violence and obsessive behavior]

The plan was foolproof.

The school was moving a piano out of the upstairs music room using a crane to take it out through the window, rather than trying to get it up the stairs. That whole area was cordoned off for the safety of the students, but of course there were gonna be gawkers wanting to see everything. And Danny had been out fighting a ghost when the announcement was made to steer clear, so he didn't know about it. 

Wes had spent several hours the previous night reading the crane's operation manual, and he had a free period right before lunch, which he used to lure away the workers and remove all the caution tape and warning signs.

Every student knew not to get too close except Danny.

Danny was durable. He didn't get hurt easily, and when he did get hurt, he healed quickly. Wes had observed this phenomenon on multiple occasions, and thoroughly documented it, so he knew exactly how much Danny could handle, and that it was more than enough to kill an ordinary human. So he decided that the best way to expose Danny's secret would be to orchestrate a little "accident" where everyone could see.

They would watch the accident, something that would kill a normal person, and then, they would watch Danny walk away from it completely unharmed.

The bell rang for lunch, and Wes climbed into the cab of the crane, snickering at his own cleverness. As expected, most of the students were giving the crane a wide berth, but Danny didn't seem to notice, and walked right into the danger zone. As soon as he was in range, Wes swung the arm of the crane toward Danny, lined it up, and dropped the piano right on top of him....

Or... it would have landed right on top of him... if it weren't for conservation of momentum. The piano swung on the ropes when the crane's arm moved, and Wes hit the release when it was mid swing, causing it to move a few feet in the air, and land completely clear of Danny.

Danny looked alarmed only for a moment, then looked up to where the piano had fallen from, followed the arm of the crane, and met Wes' eyes through the windshield with a smirk.

Wes could only sit there, turning red with anger, as Danny ran over to him, climbed up into the cab of the crane, and reached for the horn with a shit-eating grin.

Beep beep, sounded the horn.

Danny laughed with abandon as he left Wes to make his escape before school faculty found out what he'd done.

—

Okay, so the piano plan had been a bust, but Wes wasn't gonna give up that easily. He just had to account for things like physics and gravity this time.

It had been snowing lately, and the pond in the park had frozen over with a thin layer of ice. Signs warning that the ice was too thin to walk on were posted all around the pond, but they were easy enough to remove. 

Danny cut through the park on his way home from school, and when the pond was frozen, he never hesitated slide right over it. After school, it was crowded with younger kids playing in the snow, and parents an nannies keeping an eye on them, so there would be ample audience. 

This time, Wes hid in the snow-covered bushes so Danny wouldn't see him and be tipped off to the scheme.

Right on schedule, Danny started through the park. As soon as he saw that the pond was frozen over, he got a running start, jumped right onto the ice, and let himself skid across the slick surface to the other side before continuing on his way home.

Wes shot up out of the bushes, looking aghast. There was no way the ice became thick enough to walk on in the five minutes between pulling the signs and Danny's arrival. Wes trudged over it through the snow and cautiously stepped on the ice.

Not even so much as a crack.

He took a few more steps, still cautious, but increasingly frustrated. Danny had jumped onto this ice full force and slid right across without issue. Wes jumped, angrily, and with a sickening crunch, the ice gave way underneath him. He was quick enough to reach out his arms to keep from falling all the way through, but the shock of the sudden cold was intense.

Danny had apparently noticed him and came his way carrying a bright yellow sign. With a smug grin, Danny pushed the sign into the snow next to the pond.

Thin Ice, it read.

Danny laughed as he walked away, and he left no footprints in the snow.

Wes had, of course, known that ghosts could ignore the pull of gravity, and he was definitely paying for his lapse of consideration now.

Thankfully, someone came to help pull him out a little bit later, and he had to go to the hospital to get preventative treatment for frostbite and hypothermia. Ultimately, nothing was hurt besides his ego, but his ego was badly bruised.

—

Third time was the charm, Wes thought as he set up his latest scheme.

Near the edge of town, there was an elementary school that had been built next door to an old, disused graveyard. When it had first been built, there had been a rotting fence between the two of them, but after a few years, it was gone, leaving nothing between the mossy headstones and the playground in the schoolyard.

The place was, as one might imagine, a hot-spot for minor ghostly activities. Weak ghosts like shades and blob ghosts liked to hang out in death-adjacent places, and they sometimes crossed over to the school to play with the elementary schoolers during recess. It was relatively safe, as long as there didn't get to be too many ghosts gathered there.

The chance to see ghosts with minimal danger, as well as the unique aesthetic, made it a popular tourist spot. 

Danny went there every other Saturday to capture some of the ghosts that hung out there to manage their numbers and keep things safe for the tourists and the school kids. Since it was such a simple operation, he didn't even bother to transform, just went out there with a Fenton Thermos and sucked up the ones that had been hanging around the longest, and any that seemed too unruly. 

It was the perfect place to enact a new scheme to expose Danny with a terrible "accident."

Wes had woken up early and spent his entire Saturday morning setting various traps. He put pressure pads all over the place, covered them in leaves and dirt, and set slings in the nearby trees and bushes to shoot rocks at them when they were set off.

Wes could recognize that it was probably excessively elaborate, but dropping something on Danny hadn't worked, and dropping Danny into something hadn't worked, so Wes was left to throw everything he had at Danny and hope that worked, even if it cost him a good chunk of his savings.

He had just finished setting everything up when he realized he'd inadvertently cornered himself in a graveyard full of traps, and he... didn't remember where he'd put all of them.

Then he heard Danny approaching, and quickly hid. he could cross that bridge when he came to it. This was gonna work.

Danny bent over to soup a ghost right as the firs rock flew at him, and it missed by a mile. The second one was too heavy and didn't have enough momentum to reach him, and the third was poorly aimed, so that one was on Wes. But the fourth one flew true. Danny wasn't moving and it was heading right for him. Unfortunately Danny noticed and turned intangible before it hit him, so to onlookers it would look like the rock had simply passed behind Danny instead of through him.

Wes stepped out of his hiding place to shout in frustration at Danny, but the words froze in his throat as he felt something move under his foot and his eyes widened in realization just in time for a heavy rock to hit him right in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, and he fell back into the bushes. 

He could hear the quiet beep beep of the Fenton Thermos indicating it was almost at max capacity taunting him. It meant that Danny would be leaving any minute, and Wes was no closer to exposing him than he had been that morning when he'd first set ll these traps. When he caught his breath and sat up, rubbing his sore chest, he was glad he hadn't gone with poison darts, even though an ordinary human could totally survive being hit with a rock or two.

Granted, he had only decided against the poison darts because of budgetary restraints, and laws that restricted the buying and selling of poisonous substances, but that didn't mean he couldn't be grateful for it. Wes sighed, stood up, and started to disassemble the sling mechanisms. Maybe he could still return some of this stuff and get his money back.

—

Wes swore to himself that this would be the last time.

This time, Wes would have to activate the trap manually by pulling a cord. It wouldn't accidentally backfire on him the second he stood in its range. The trap had no gravity powered elements, and he'd triple-checked that all the moving parts were perfectly aligned. There was no way this would fail.

Wes had set everything up downtown on a day he knew Danny would be hanging out there with his friends.

Stealthily, he followed the three of them until they got to the place where he'd laid the trap. Just as planned, Danny volunteered to get the three of them snacks from a food cart. It was go time.

Wes pulled the cord and everything was set in motion.

Ten. Nine. Eight. 

Danny turned around to look at something.

No! Wes wouldn't let himself fail again.

Five. Four. Three.

Wes ran out and shoved Danny hard, pushing him onto the right spot.

Two. One. 

BOOM!

Wes was blown backwards and knocked on his but, but he wasn't hurt this time.

And it had worked! The explosion went off exactly as planned, hit Danny head on, and when the dust settled, Danny was still standing there, a little singed, but no worse for wear. At worst, he looked slightly annoyed, but not the least bit harmed. Any normal human would have been severely injured by an explosion like that.

Excited and triumphant, Wes got to his feet and turned to see all the shocked faces of the people downtown. But no one was looking.

Across the street, Wes could see a stage had been set up, and Ember was putting on an impromptu concert. No one in the square could look away from her mind-controlling music, but he'd been so focused on Danny that he hadn't even noticed her.

He looked back at Danny, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Danny gave him a smug smirk, transformed into his ghost form right in front of Wes' eyes, and still no one else saw! 

There were hundreds of people right across the street. Any one of them could have turned around and seen Danny surviving that explosion, or transforming in broad daylight in the middle of down town, but none of them did.

Danny floated up, and gave Wes a sarcastic salute as he flew off to shut down Ember's concert before anyone—besides himself—got hurt.

Wes could have torn his hair out in frustration. He could have screamed! He didn't care about his promises. This wasn't over!

[ecargmura]

A Terrified Teacher At Ghoul School Episode 7 Review - Uniform Power Overcomes All Hurdles

Never underestimate the power of uniforms. For Haruaki, it can make him into something even more terrifying than a youkai. I’m glad Class 2-3 knew about this and even had to use it as a last resort in order to motivate their teacher. The way he climbed that pole, swam through a pond of alligators and even traversed through hellfire because of them was hilarious. I also love how the faculty and the other classes reacted.

This episode also showcases Haruaki as a character. He’s a kind teacher and he will go out of his way for his students like how he suddenly got superhuman strength to throw logs and carry Sano and then feel bad about it to the point of him becoming a slime. Because he’s someone who cares so much for his students, he even does his best to replace Sano as the anchor for the final course of the relay race despite his huge disadvantage of being a human.

Some of the other students got their fair share of screen time. I adored all of Tamao’s screen time with the way he fell into his feline instincts with the log, but when he learned the log was what hurt Sano, he snapped out of temptation and avenged him. My favorite Tamao part was the abrupt art change that even Marshmallow points out. I also liked Yanagida. If you read the manga, Yanagida is one of the craziest characters because of his penchant for chemical reactions. Glad it’s showcased here a bit. He starts getting more screen time after this  arc, so I can’t wait to see anime-only viewers witness the terror that is the cloth youkai. I felt bad for Maeda for getting puked on. Also, Mouse-sensei getting paid in cheese is the most hilarious revelation I’ve learned so far. I also liked all of the Takahashi screen time. He’s everyone’s favorite freaky doctor for a reason.

Also, I do notice the drop in animation quality towards the end where background characters start becoming gray humans. Satelight isn’t really known for producing high quality television series—look at Cherry Magic—and I do get that there are way too many characters in the show, but at least animate the rest of Class 2-3 and not a select few.

Haruaki’s voice actor, Ryota Osaka, needs to be studied for his lung capacity and the strength of his throat. How can he scream like that? Remember that he voiced Gyutaro from Demon Slayer, where he had to produce a croaky, creaky voice. This man truly has range. I honestly can’t wait to hear him voice Tsubaki from Wind Breaker next year. Another standout voice actor is Tomokazu Sugita as Yanagida. While Yanagida didn’t have much screen time, just the fact that Sugitan is in this anime is crazy in itself.

Now that the Sports Day arc is finished, I do wonder what will be shown next. There are 24 episodes, which means a fourth of the episodes have aired so far. Will they show more arcs? What are your thoughts?

[qqueenofhades]

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/751102464296665088

*Puts on old man costume*

"Back in my day, we used to cheat and procrastinate like real people! With copious amounts of bullshitting and pulling things out of our asses at the last minute! Secretly sneaking in little things written on our hands or in our phones fer tests and shit! Heck, maybe we didn't even NEED to cheat because it turns out we actually knew stuff, we just didn't know we knew stuff until our last minute papers got a good grade anyways because our shit actually had some analytical relevance borne from deep in our psyche, but we just didn't realize it because we had massive cases of imposter syndrome where we thought everyone else was smarter than us, while overlooking our own abilities!

Now these newfangled ChatGPTs are just taking the easy way out of the easy way out! What's up with that!? These new procrastinators and cheaters make us look even worse than we already do, cuz they ain't even doing the work of not doing the work! And y'all can't even say that you can learn from it in the art of bullshittin', cuz that's not even YOUR bullshitting, it's someone else's bullshitting mangled up with hundreds of other peoples' bullshittin'!

Feh, kids these days!"

*Takes off old man costume*

Addendum: old man anon griping about cheating with ChatGPT does not endorse cheating or procrastinating. I'm just being silly.

I mean... at least with regular old-fashioned cheating, also an academic tradition since time immemorial, at least you're engaging with the material somehow. You are putting your own two god-given eyeballs on that and using your own ickle brainikins to do SOMETHING with it, even if that something is morally questionable. We've all seen the elaborate cheat devices where someone managed to engrave all the exam answers onto a pen or a pair of socks or whatever -- at least that person went in and used their initiative to remember information SOMEHOW, and to do it under their own power. Now, yes, it will get you into trouble, and yes, there are plenty of conversations to be had about accessibility and the fact that not everyone learns by sitting in a room and being lectured at and then having to regurgitate it all from memory with no notes in a final exam, which is why there is a whole thriving field of educational pedagogy and best practices and how to accommodate students with different learning styles and etc. etc. I sometimes see AI framed as "uwu accessibility issue :(" and like... cmon. There are educational professionals who spend their whole lives and careers working out how to shake up the traditional learning format and present material in an engaging way and teach students how to think and write and otherwise be academic and rigorous. And like, if you're voluntarily in this space, then we presume you WANT that instruction! Not to just sit around and whine about how we aren't catering enough to you personally and this means you should get to use the Bullshit Plagiarism Nonsense Machine to never ever think at all!

Now, I will say that the naivete around AI is not only limited to students. I was in a department meeting yesterday where the literal associate dean of the college seemed startled to discover that AI might not be a) totally reliable b) able to totally replace lesson planning and evaluation/grading by an actual human professor (after several faculty members pushed back, shall we say, briskly on the idea that it could). Plenty of people still think it can just magically solve Academia (or /insert field here), and those are not just limited to clueless undergraduates. And yes, undergraduates are clueless in different ways and for different reasons in every era of the world; it is likewise an academic rite of passage. But I still cannot for the life of me understand why you, in ye olde benighted 21st century, would pay tens of thousands of dollars and/or accrue it in debt to go to college, to learn nothing, to whine and blame your professors for "not designing assignments well" (when again, every remotely decent educational professional agonizes for eons about how to do a good job of this for all kinds of students), to insist it is your entitled right to use the Bullshit Plagiarism Nonsense Machine, and then presumably be /shocked pikachu face/ when you don't learn anything and spend your time posting idiot takes on the internet. I mean. The state of critical thinking is /waves hand/ Already So Bad, and the AI craze plays directly into that by fulfilling the insidious fantasy that the hard things in life aren't actually hard and don't have to be learned by patient and careful practice. And that is just. Yeah. C'mon.

(I realize this was a funny/lighthearted ask, but yeah, we can consider this one old man turning to another old man on the park bench and making a joke, and the other old man bellowing YOUTH THESE DAYS!!! and scaring all the pigeons and/or passersby. Ahem.)

[eretzyisrael]

by Collin Anderson

When police searched the home of two Students for Justice in Palestine leaders, a pair of sisters at George Mason University, their allies painted a sympathetic picture.

The students were targeted, according to the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), for engaging in "anti-genocide events on campus." The Intercept reported that police found "antique firearms" registered to the students' brother and brought gun-related charges as a result of his family's "pro-Palestine activism."

Excluded from those descriptions was the crime the sisters are suspected of committing. A group of student radicals defaced George Mason’s student center in August, spray painting messages that warned of a "student intifada." In its coverage of the incident, the Washington Post wrote that "activists spray-painted words on Wilkins Plaza outside the university’s Johnson Center."

Those activists caused thousands of dollars in damage, a felony in the state of Virginia, and police suspect the SJP leaders, sisters Jena and Noor Chanaa, led the group of vandals. Weeks after the incident, in November, a county judge granted a warrant—which is under seal until February, according to a Fairfax County court representative—allowing police to seize electronics from the Chanaa family home.

When officers entered the Chanaa family home, they found firearms—modern weapons, not antiques—as well as scores of ammunition and foreign passports, all of which sat in plain view, according to court documents obtained by the Free Beacon and sources familiar with the investigation.

They also found pro-terror materials, including Hamas and Hezbollah flags and signs that read "death to America" and "death to Jews," according to court documents and sources familiar.

Police seized the weapons under Virginia's red flag law, arguing that Mohammad Chanaa, the students' brother and a George Mason alumnus, was "linked to destruction of property in connection with a large group of people with like-minded rhetoric" and posed a danger to others given his possession of "terroristic" materials.

On the day of the search, Nov. 7, law enforcement officials removed "long guns" from the residence, sources say. A day later, Mohammad Chanaa voluntarily relinquished his 9mm handgun and concealed carry permit, according to court records. He was not charged with a crime—Virginia's red flag law gives gun owners 14 days to petition a judge to return their firearms, and Mohammad Chanaa did so on Nov. 21. A Fairfax County circuit court judge granted his request as part of the civil case.

CAIR has denounced the "draconian measures used by law enforcement authorities" to "silence or intimidate those who seek to end the Israeli genocide in Gaza." A faculty group at George Mason, meanwhile, released a statement expressing "deep concern about the apparent targeting of two George Mason students for their advocacy for Palestinian human rights."

The ongoing ordeal—local police are investigating the incident with the FBI's assistance, sources familiar with that investigation tell the Free Beacon—reflects CAIR and SJP's status as driving forces behind the anti-Semitic activism that has plagued college campuses in the wake of Hamas's Oct. 7 terror attack on Israel. It also reflects the radical, pro-terror views that have become synonymous with that activism.

[respocked]

I'm thinking about work anyway so fuck it

Star Trek Public Primary School AU 🛸 !

Kirk

-the headmaster!

-went into education because of his own unfortunate childhood

-has an uncanny ability to tell which student has a bad home life

-remembers everyone's name, even if you went to his school 5 years ago for 2 months

-misbehaving teenagers send to his office get some candy and a motivational speech that changes the course of their lifetime

-most days can be found hovering suspiciously outside of spock's classroom

-way better with older students, 12-13 - has absolutely 0 idea what to do with young children

-which is awkward when while waiting for spock outside his classroom he tries to make small talk with them (-so... son... read any good books lately? -i can't read!)

Spock

- teaches early education, 6 to 9 year olds

-greatly overqualified for the position, had a human psychology degree, interspecies child development degree, highly regarded in scientific community

-could be teaching university but prefers to spend his time sitting on carpets with children drawing clouds

-his class is extremely nontraditional - no desks, sitting on the floor, tons of meditation, classes in nature

-does not adhere to the program at all but somehow his classes always score the best on all exams

-turned down a position in a trendy montessori school for a public one

-parents either go out his way for their child to attend his class or request someone else - either from homophobic or xeniphobic reasons

Uhura

-the school's cultural assistant!

-also runs student exchanges with other countries and planets

-speaks every minority language that has representation in the student body

-also a substitute teacher

-she can give a super interesting lessons

-but takes 0 shit from students who won't respect her

-runs an extracurricular activity with spock when she teaches immigrant and refugee students to express their emotions with music

-is the best at pitching a project idea for funding, which is why her office and spock's classrom are the best equipped ones in the school

-spock's bestie, they hang out after work (gay/lesbian solidatity)

-still lives with her parents, they're super close

-wants to date but it's too boring compared to writing another lesson plan

Bones

-the school nurse! & in charge of nutrition

-teenagers are afraid of him

-small children absolutely love him

-takes his daughter to work and lets her draw with crayons on his important papers

-also constantly in spock's classroom, but to complain

-"damnit, spock! give them all the vulcan cuisine you want, but don't send them crying to me after they get an allergic reaction!"

-"meditation? maybe have them meditate on doing some real work for once"

-but when parents with pitchforks come to complain abt spock's methods he defends him like a lion

-he sends them piles after piles of scientific proof of why spock's method are actually the bestest and most efficient

-when kirk thanks him for stepping in he pretends like he doesn't know what he's talking about

Chapel

-teaches sex ed!

-the sweetest teacher ever

-one of those teachers that noone is intimidated by but noone disobeys because noone wants to makes her upset

-uses her Blonde White Straight Pretty Woman priviledge to convince reluctant parents to sign up their kids for sex ed

-goes All Out on halloween tho

-you know she is there, dressed like a witch, running an educational halloween themed activity! paper bats hanging from the ceiling!

-has gluten free and vegan candy in case the winners have a food sensivity!

-has a secret crush on Uhura and Spock both

Chekov

-teaches IT

-burned out miracle kid

-graduated university when he was younger than his current students

-lets students play roblox on the computers

-and teaches them how to torrent

-somehow noone from the faculty knows where he lives

-background check turns up nothing

-"did you know computers were invented in russia?"

-puts 0 effort in but somehow his students love him

-little girls take sneak photos of him to edit in a flower crowns

Scotty

-teaches a woodworking & engineering class and does janitor duties on the side!

-like kirk, absolutely 0 idea on how to treat younger kids

-strict

-has to be, no joking around power tools!

-but you know praise from him hits different

-will tell students he's proud of them when they make theit first little table

-can fix everything

-say "this interactive blackboard is broken!" three times to summon him

-marries to his career, teaching fulfills his paternal calling

Sulu

-teaches biology!

-rule follower

-stressed out about exams 3 years before his students

-not very inventive but everyone wants his class because there is a hamster in the classroom

-classroom full of houseplants

-if you agree to water them when he's away you will receive a 50 page manual on proper misting techniques

-not strict at all but will give a dressing down to a student who is seen treating a living thing badly

-can be bribed with plants