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defectivevillain · 6 months ago

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this winding labyrinth, chapter 13

chapter thirteen: confrontation

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors or pronouns are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 13, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapters 1-12, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

author's notes: this is a bit of a shorter chapter (more dialogue heavy) but i still think you’ll enjoy 😏

A few notes before that, though. First, we’re nearing the end! Woop woop! I plan to write a few more chapters (2+) and two endings. Second, on that note, a friendly reminder that this story will not have nsfw. I think I put that in the notes of this fic over on AO3, but not over here... Oops.

Anyways, on to our regularly scheduled programming! Typical warnings apply.

It’s a miracle you survived the Red Dragon. At least, that’s what everyone’s saying. There are nearly countless theories going around the FBI now, ranging from you simply being lucky to the killer second-guessing himself. As time passes, the rumors only grow more ludicrous—and you’re almost happy when you can finally return to work and dispel them once and for all. You return to holding occasional guest lectures in recruit classrooms (in the advent of your frequent fieldwork, you had fallen away from regular instruction). Things slowly return back to normal, to your relief.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take Jack Crawford long to find you upon your return. The two of you had kept somewhat regular communication throughout your hospitalization, with Jack calling you from Quantico. It’s nice to see him in-person again. He looks composed and professional as always, wearing his typical suit and a focused expression on his face as he stands in the doorway of your office. “Agent,” he nods, moving to take a seat across from you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks,” you say, a tired smile rising on your lips. “It’s good to be back.”

Jack nods in acknowledgement, before continuing to speak. The two of you have never been much for pleasantries, so it’s no surprise that he is eager to move things along. “Now, on to business…” he trails off. Then an interesting, uncharacteristic expression falls onto his face. It’s hesitation, you realize.

“What is it?” you hear yourself ask. Jack rarely ever hesitates. Apprehension is not in his vocabulary.

He takes a slow breath. “Since your hospitalization, Hannibal has reportedly been acting a bit… difficult,” Jack says carefully. There’s something he’s not telling you. He’s not giving you all the details. But why? Jack and you have always been honest with one another, even when (especially when) it concerns your work. It’s strange, and a bit unsettling, to see your boss being so cautious with his words.

“Difficult?” you question, after a tense silence descends across your office. You cross one leg over the other and tap your fingers against the arm of your chair, feeling restless all of a sudden.

A pause. “He has been asking for you,” Jack then confesses. Something lurches in your stomach. “I refused to pass along information, which supposedly distressed him.” That doesn’t seem right. Hannibal isn’t distressed by anything—least of all your momentary absence.

Your thoughts must show on your face, because Jack nods. “You know I’m not fond of this arrangement with Lecter,” he sighs. Yet he continues. “But it may benefit us.” His ambiguity isn’t giving you any confidence.

“What are you suggesting?” you ask. You fear you already know the answer.

“I’m suggesting we visit him,” Jack answers, confirming your suspicions. “Wear something that conceals those bruises on your neck. It may do us well for him to see you in good health,” he advises, a brief flicker of frustration passing across his face as he glances at the marks the killer left behind. You self-consciously grab at your collar, despite knowing it’s a futile effort.

“We should tell him about the interaction between you and the Dragon,” Jack muses. “Lecter values knowledge above little else. It is quite likely that he has been unsettled by your unexplained absence.”

You mull over that statement for longer than you should. “Hannibal doesn’t get unsettled,” you then frown.

“Perhaps not in front of you,” Jack says, an echo of a wry smile on his lips. There’s that feeling again—the sense that he knows something you don't. “But I’ve been told his behavior was rather ‘uncharacteristic.’”

“I will be accompanying you, of course,” Jack continues, after you can’t seem to find the words to say. “The doctors would not be happy with me, if I were to let you strain your voice too much. All I ask is that you remain at my side. I can handle the talking.” You blink at him in surprise, before a strange sense of gratitude washes over him. He’s not sending you by yourself. You will not have to face him alone.

There’s a question that’s been lingering on your tongue for minutes now. Jack looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to voice your concerns. “Do you think he knows anything else?” you ask halfheartedly. You suspect Hannibal may grow uncooperative soon, if he hasn’t already. Besides, there’s a limit to his knowledge—what with his confinement.

“Hannibal may very well be reaching the end of his utility,” Jack admits. You nod, trying to fight off the stewing feeling in your chest that’s been accumulating since the beginning of the conversation. “We will have to see.” He leaves you with that ominous remark, promising to return soon upon securing visiting hours.

The drive to Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane is far quicker than you’d like it to be. 90 minutes pass in what feels like a blink of an eye. And of course, the sight of the building is enough to bring back all the negative thoughts you’ve been suppressing. In light of Frederick Chilton’s death, the building has fallen under new administration. The security detail has grown a bit lax, which you pretend not to notice to save yourself stress. Even the building itself looks a bit… grimier than normal. Jack and you don’t end up meeting the person who took on Chilton’s role, instead being swiped in at the security desk and then taken through the halls immediately.

Jack leads the way and you follow after him like a shadow. You’d like to think that you can go relatively unnoticed, but the thought is exceedingly unrealistic. You can only hope Hannibal has miraculously lost interest. Upon entering the space, you find the killer in question sitting at his writing desk, reading a book. Jack closes the door after you enter, impatiently staring at the man until he decides to break the silence. “Hannibal.”

Hannibal blinks and looks up, seeming surprised. “Ah, Jack,” he says. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you. It’s been some time.” He places his book down and gets to his feet, standing across from Jack.

“I suppose it has been,” Jack responds amicably. In a less stressful situation, you’d be amused at how unenthusiastic he sounds. But you can’t quite get yourself to forget your anxiety. It’s not just your imagination: the air is incredibly tense, almost charged.

It is only inevitable that Hannibal’s gaze drifts to you. You’ve shoved your hands in your pockets, a false notion of security beneath these blinding fluorescent lights. You’re not sure how long you stand there, a mere subject to Hannibal’s fervent attention, before he finally speaks. “It is nice to see you.” Hannibal is looking at you when he speaks. You get the inexplicable urge to smoke again, despite quitting months ago. It must be the uneasiness brewing in your chest.

“You too.” You can’t summon more than a tired quirk to the edge of your lips and a brief nod.

He regards you for a moment, a thin but knowing smile on his face. “You are unusually quiet today.” How he’s able to conclude that based on one sentence is beyond you.

“Apologies,” you murmur. The sentiment feels slimy and wrong on your lips. Your voice is audibly raspy and you can virtually see Hannibal digesting that information, puzzling it out in his mind. He needs more.

You helplessly glance at Jack, who sighs. “Yes, well,” Jack breaks off, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “There was an unforeseen complication.”

“Oh?” Despite his attentive response, Hannibal’s eyes still haven’t left your face. From there, Jack recounts your conversation to him. Hannibal nods along during the appropriate moments, but it almost seems as if he isn’t paying attention. He’s practically tearing you apart with his eyes—his gaze extremely scrutinizing. You just barely manage to keep still, instead of fidgeting restlessly. “We decided it would be worthwhile to see the painting in-person—to meet with someone and discern its significance,” Jack finishes.

“The Brooklyn Museum,” Hannibal recalls. Jack nods, not appearing surprised that Hannibal knew where the painting was being kept. Then his gaze slides to you. “What delayed your return?”

“We encountered some unexpected opposition,” Jack answers. It’s vague, but it answers the question nonetheless.

“We?” Hannibal hums lightly. “Forgive the discourtesy, but you seem unscathed, Jack.”

A tick in Jack’s jaw is the only visible sign of his irritation. Hannibal should know that Jack’s position requires him to be at headquarters virtually every day. It is exceedingly rare for him to leave the office, since he supervises the entire Behavioral Analysis Unit in addition to many other recruits. You struggle to fight off a frown at Hannibal’s unusually acerbic remark. He almost seems angry. The source of that anger is exceedingly unclear.

You’re ready to diffuse the tension by giving him an explanation, until you find Jack firmly shaking his head at you. You frown. Wasn’t that the entire point of this excursion—to taunt Hannibal with the information you gained and see if he revealed anything else in its wake? Why is Jack changing his mind now?

Hannibal does look rather impatient and irritated. This may be the first time you’ve seen his emotions written so plainly across his face. He’s staring at you hard enough to melt your skin off.

“If you wish to waste time, I can make an educated guess,” Hannibal offers. His eyes are dark, his smile is overwhelmingly fake, and there’s a noticeable venom to his voice. Jack stiffens at your side, before taking a slow breath. It’s clear he’s accepted the futility of the situation. You can’t waltz into a lions’ den with fresh prey, only to deny them the meal.

“Very well,” Jack says. He turns to look at you; you’re not sure what your expression is, but it must betray some of your confusion, because Jack’s lips only fall into a tighter line. Is there something he’s not telling you, here? “We—or, more accurately, my agent here—came across the killer.”

Hannibal is silent. He’s waiting for more detail. Jack won’t give it to him. You stifle a sigh. “He consumed the painting, like you said he would,” you add.

“Ah,” Hannibal says. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised, nor does he seem satisfied by your answer. “I’m afraid that doesn’t explain your silence, dear.” The pet name is an unwelcome jolt in your chest, even when used sarcastically. Jack’s expression darkens as he glares at Hannibal. Hannibal doesn’t care to notice. It’s as if the two of you are the only ones in the room.

“And I can’t help but notice you’ve fastened the top button of your shirt today,” Hannibal continues. It’s a casual comment, nothing more than a harmless observation. Or, at least, it would be—if you weren’t hiding your wounds from the Red Dragon. “A rather uncharacteristic choice for you. I’m curious as to why you would make that decision.”

You want to keep quiet, knowing anything you say will betray you. But Hannibal’s gaze is insistent and expectant. There’s an ugly feeling rolling through your body. Every fiber of your being is telling you to run, to escape this trap he’s sprung.

“Agent—” Jack warns you, suddenly breaking his static posture and turning to look at you. There’s a wary expression on his face and it’s clear he doesn’t want you to reveal anything more. But it’s too late. As if possessed by a foreign urge, your hand has already met the edge of your collar. You’re forced to watch as you pull the material down from your neck, wincing as the effort drags the fabric along your still-healing wound. If Hannibal’s attention was intense before, it’s utterly ravenous now. You’re not sure why you’re so compelled to tell him the truth. All you know is the rapid drumming of your heart in your chest, pushing you to take action.

You’re sure the achingly bright fluorescent lighting does nothing to aid the yellow-brown bruises scattered across your throat. Hannibal’s eyes trace the marks with clinical scrutiny; your heart steadily pounds in your chest as he resumes his silent investigation. For a while, there is only quiet as he examines you. The glass wall between you is rendered obsolete. You can feel the weight of his gaze over the dull headache you’ve been sporting; in the goosebumps along your skin; and across your shoulders.

When Hannibal finally tears his eyes away, you’re fooled into thinking his inspection is over. But somehow, he seems to know you hid the bite mark from him. “There is more,” he states with deceptive composure. There is nothing composed about the look in his eyes or the tension firmly pulling his shoulders. Hannibal is standing closer now, steadily approaching and rendering the barrier between you entirely inconsequential. “At the edge of your neck.”

Jack seems to feel just as overwhelmed and helpless as you do. Because although he looks at you and fiercely shakes his head, there’s a perplexed fear glimmering in his eyes. Both of you are unsure about this course of action—and about Hannibal’s uncharacteristic mood swing.

“Show me,” Hannibal demands. There is no politeness in his voice. There is no pretense written across his face. This is not a request—this is a demand, an order.

You obey and tug the material over with a shaking hand, revealing the base of your neck and the edge of your shoulder. His eyes leave no stone unturned, as he follows the teeth marks scattered across your collarbone and crawling up your shoulder. Otherwise, Hannibal doesn’t verbally react: he is frighteningly silent. You can’t even hear him breathe. He never displays his emotions—you know that. And yet, there is no sign of his characteristic restraint now. There is only violence in the lines of his clenched fists; anger in the firm pull of his lips; tension in the furrow of his brows; and something far darker glittering in his eyes.

You lock eyes with Hannibal Lecter and, for the first time in several months, you remember to be afraid of him. His sudden presence at the very edge of the glass is all you need to take a cautious step backwards and enforce the distance between the two of you. And he latches onto that fear with frightening speed. It almost feels as if the walls around you are caving in; in the blink of an eye, you can see Hannibal swiftly stepping out of his transparent prison and reaching out towards you—

Jack’s hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. You just vaguely hear him say something to Hannibal, before whispering to you as he leads you out of the space. He’s speaking, but you haven’t the faintest idea what he’s saying. You don’t have the energy or wherewithal to resist, instead remaining pliant in his grip as he ushers you through the hall. You expect Hannibal’s voice to travel across the hall, but he remains silent. And your heart begins to calm, with the distance you gain on him.

A stiff breeze greets you upon exiting the building. Jack takes you to the car, and the two of you drive back to headquarters in complete silence. It isn’t until you arrive at the headquarters parking lot under the cover of night that Jack sighs, before rounding the car and coming to a stop near you. You can hardly understand what’s happening, forced to watch in confusion as he brings a hand to rest on your uninjured shoulder. There’s a quiet fury in his eyes—not unlike Hannibal’s rage. You feel slightly sickened and ashamed that you’re the cause of this emotion, that your weakness is provoking such a reaction from those around you.

Jack seems about ready to pull you into a reassuring hug, but he stops himself. You’re both brutally aware of your roles as employer and employee, mentor and mentee. Jack looks torn, his eyes searching your face as if waiting for you to give him a clue as to how you’re feeling. His right hand falls to his pocket, a restless tell that you almost never see from him.

“This won’t happen again.” The stormy expression on his face suggests that Jack will ensure it. Maybe the sincerity in his eyes should alarm you… but you only feel grateful. You nod jerkily, pushing your tears back and swallowing past the burning feeling in your throat. It’s the best the two of you can do. Neither of you can promise a happy ending, but you can strive to do better in the future.

Then Jack nods and the moment is mercifully terminated. He glances up at the flickering streetlight across the lot and seems to come to a decision. “I’ll take you home,” he says. You try to object, but your protests fall on unwilling ears. You soon find yourself in Jack’s car once more, relegated to that tense silence once more. You’ll leave him with a word of gratitude as you exit the car, before heading up to your front door as your fingers restlessly trace the outline of your key. You’ll spend the rest of the night subconsciously tracing the marks along your throat, remembering how they provoked such a visceral reaction in Hannibal. It will be hard to sleep that night, as you toss and turn under the covers with an unfounded conviction that you’re being stifled and subdued.

Meanwhile, Jack will remain parked in your driveway until he’s certain you’ve gotten inside safely. Then he’ll wait until he’s down the street to clench the steering wheel in a tight-knuckled grip that betrays his frustration.

next chapter

thanks for reading! <3

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raidermomma · 4 months ago

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So... I probably don't need to say this but I'm gonna say it anyway, because I've been seeing some things in other fandoms (not Red Dwarf) and it made me slightly uncomfortable.

Do I love Chris Barrie? Yes, with every fibre of my being. Would I marry him if he asked? Without hesitation. In fact he wouldn't even have to finish the question.

HOWEVER...

I am fully aware that he is an actor. As in, the roles we see him in and the way he acts in public is only a small part of who he is. Actors are still people, with their own lives and families and stuff going on that fans aren't aware of and don't need to be aware of. As fans we aren't owed anything from our favourite actors/singers/performers. If they engage with fans great, if they don't that's entirely their choice. People are entitled to their personal lives, they are entitled to their privacy regardless of what they do for a living.

For this reason I would like to make it plain that I do not condone pestering celebrities for anything, expecting anything from them beyond enjoying their work or assuming that because you love them you are somehow entitled to comment on their personal lives or families. Nor have I, or will I ever, knowingly look for, download or share any photos that are not show stills, publicity shots, or were taken without his knowledge or before he became well-known. (If anyone knows of any pics on this blog that were, please let me know and I will remove them.)

If you want to indulge in a fantasy involving a celebrity, absolutely go at it. I'm half delusional most of the time anyway. But DO NOT attempt to actually involve the person in your delusion. That's the line that gives fandoms a bad name and makes celebrities wary of interacting with fans that are, for the most part, just there to appreciate and enjoy something.

And now, back to our regular scheduled programming.

#small rant #sorry about that #red dwarf #arnold rimmer #rimmer red dwarf #red dwarf rimmer #arnold j rimmer #rimmer #arnold judas rimmer #chris barrie

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theflagscene · 6 months ago

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Oh, this is where the kicking scene is gonna happen. Bison gonna swing out of one of those cubicles and knock the pervert teacher on his ass.

It’s so fun to see FirstKhao getting to do action scenes together! Kick ass, boys! Because they aren’t really the ‘action star’ types, so this is fun to get to watch. They’re really stepping out of their comfort zones in this series, thank you Jojo!!!

Omg! Is that… that is so heavy handed Jojo, I respect you so much!!!

For those unaware, for a very long time there has been discourse in the LGBTQ community because of pedophiles claiming that they cannot help that they’re attracted to children, that they are born with that sexual predisposition the same way queer people are born queer. Basically pedophiles are claiming they have no choice in it, just like queer people. For decades the LGBTQ community has been like: fuck you, that is not the case at all. Studies have shown that paedophilia is in fact a psychiatric illness, there is medication that can help control the intrusive thoughts and people with that type of illness can actually live a perfectly normal life without ever hurting any child. The ones who indulge in their sexual perversions do it not out of a need, but instead simply put, because they want to. Which makes them criminals, because they make the choice to hurt a child. Whereas historically, you can’t turn a gay person straight. And they’ve been trying, for centuries. Being queer is in your genetic makeup, being a pedophile is a chemical imbalance or trauma response in your brain, which is also why so many of these people who touch children also beat them, kill them, etc. For a few decades now, really since the rise of social media, pedophiles have been trying to claim sanctuary in LGBTQ spaces. Claiming that they are part of the community, which they absolutely are not. So having the teacher say to Kant and Bison that he is ‘just like them’ simply because he likes boys and not girls, is a very heavy handed allegory on Jojo’s part about queer spaces being invaded by the worst type of people, how they’re trying to use the LGBTQ community in a way to attempt to normalize their criminal behaviour.

Anyway, yeah, that was just a little queer history lesson for the younger queers out there. Now back to the regular scheduled programming.

#Lynn watches things #tw paedophilia #lgbtq history #the heart killers the series #jojo tichakorn #in Jojo we trust #kantbison

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lalune9x · 9 months ago

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SCTIR Translation - Chapter 464: I'm a Fan! (4)

[NOVEL SPOILERS] Story context: Han Gyeol is the name of the pink fairy dragon previously called 'Changeling' that Han Yoojin, uh, gave birth to. Yoojin named him in an earlier chapter after getting input from the other dad slash magical essence donor(?).

"Also, you barely know her. I’m not against you dating outright." "Ajussi, that’s one hundred percent a lie,” Yerim cut in.

Chapter translation under the cut.

---

“I’m telling you, I’ll get rejected,” I said. I was organizing the details of the monsters I had cared for on my laptop.

Han Gyeol, who was sitting beside the laptop and glaring at Sung Hyunje, grumbled, ‘Why would Dad get rejected?’ Then he said more loudly:

— If Dad likes someone, then I’ll like them too.

“That’s sweet of you, Gyeol-ah. But you know, Dad actually sort of likes Sung Hyunje, too.”

— Except for that one. Except the ones dangerous to Dad.

It seemed like Han Gyeol had developed a particular dislike for Sung Hyunje after I’d been threatened by him a few times. There was that time during the dungeon break, and when he’d tried to mess with me on the cruise.

“So, is this going to be your office, Director Han?” Moon Hyuna asked, looking around the room. We were in one of the empty rooms on the first floor of the rearing facility.

“They told me I needed a director’s office. Up until now, I’ve just been working from home, but now that I have employees, I figured it’s time to do things properly.”

It was about time I had a more regular work schedule. I had been living too erratically. For now, I had just set up a desk, table, and sofa. I didn’t even have a nameplate yet. Come to think of it, I should get a new business card too.

“Anyway, I’m just going to confess and be done with it.”

“How’s that going to work? What if Chloe says okay?”

“Do you really think that’s likely? I mean assuming she has no ulterior motives,” I replied.

Moon Hyuna scratched the back of her head. “You are cute, Hyung-nim, but...” She plopped down onto the sofa and continued, “If you’re asking if Chloe would find you attractive, I’m honestly not sure I can give a positive answer.”

“Of course not. After all, I’m pretty much a stranger to her. It would be hard to claim love at first sight, too. No matter what people say about first impressions, looks matter, and in that department, I’m at a disadvantage.”

As if it weren’t hard enough being on my own, I had to contend with Yoohyun, Sung Hyunje, and even Song Taewon as my companions. Who would even notice my face? Getting rejected was the most likely outcome, assuming there were no ulterior motives involved.

“You’re speaking very rationally. Weren’t you all flustered yesterday? Did your feelings cool off overnight?”

“I still like Chloe-ssi. I’d like to keep liking her, if possible.”

Chloe didn’t know it, but her programs had been a source of comfort to me during some tough times. I wasn’t the only one she’d helped. While those moments had been erased due to my regression, I still remembered them clearly.

“…You’re acting a bit suspicious.” Hyuna-ssi seemed to have caught on that my attitude wasn’t normal.

“In support of Han Yoojin-gun’s first love.” Sung Hyunje approached and perched on the desk, then handed me a USB drive. Gyeol bared his teeth as if he would chomp on Sung Hyunje’s hand at any moment. Calm down, Gyeol-ah.

“It’s not my first love. I already got rejected by my first love a long time ago,” I said.

I plugged the USB into my laptop. It contained detailed information on Chloe Alger. “You got that ready fast.”

I said I would contact him in a few days, but he had brought the information in just one day. The data included not only personal details but also recent activities in detail. After reading through it, I let out a deep sigh. There wasn’t anything particularly suspicious in the data itself. However…

‘One centimeter.’

She was 1 cm taller than she had been before my regression. It was a small difference, but the problem was that Chloe at this point should be at a lower level than the Chloe I knew. Taking that into account, the difference might be closer to 2 cm.

‘...It’s likely that her rank increased, after all.’

Or she might have acquired a skill that affected her body. That was also possible. Ranks can go up. Skills can be gained. After all, I had changed, and so had the people around me. It wasn’t unreasonable to think others could change too.

But change wasn’t that easy. If I didn't have my memories, if my skills remained the same and I had simply regressed—how much would I have changed compared to before the regression? It's never easy to change without external interference.

“Han Yoojin-gun,” Sung Hyunje said, leaning forward. “It seems some information differs from what you remember.”

“…Yes.”

"Why are you two having a conversation only you understand," Moon Hyuna grumbled, annoyed at being left out.

Explaining it fully would mean bringing up my life before the regression. I rubbed my face as if washing it and pushed my hair back.

“It’s not certain,” I said, feeling a weight in my chest. “But there’s a possibility that Hunter Chloe is connected to Park Hayul or to the person who recently carried out the attack on the Association.”

“…Chloe is?” Moon Hyuna looked surprised.

“Yes. That's why, to confirm, I need to be rejected by her."

Moon Hyuna loosely crossed her arms. Gyeol used his tail to slap away Sung Hyunje’s hand, which had been reaching towards me.

“Don’t be too disappointed. People aren’t always what they seem,” Sung Hyunje consoled me.

“We don’t know for certain yet.”

“Hold on, Hyung-nim. So you pretended to like Chloe?”

“…I’m not pretending. I do like her, not romantically but as a person. I’m genuinely a fan."

“Yeah, you didn’t seem like you were acting. But confessing just to see if there’s something fishy… isn’t that a strange approach?"

"Everyone already thinks I have a crush on Chloe-ssi, so I’m playing along with the situation."

I couldn’t explain about the keyword. If the keyword failed to work, it would mean she was connected to Park Hayul. If it worked but she started making moves to get closer to me or try something else, then she’d likely be linked to the Pious. If neither happened, then maybe I could relax a little. But I’d still need to ask her about her rank.

“I don’t think Chloe-ssi is the kind of person who would date me just for my status. Don’t you agree?"

"From what I know, yeah. Chloe is, how should I put it, a bit like Director Song."

“Like Director Song?”

“I told you that she’s unusual. She’s not as extreme in suppressing herself, but for a high-ranking hunter, she cares a lot about the public good. She also dislikes hunters who abuse their power.”

“…She sounds like a good person.”

“Well, there’s still a lot of discrimination where she’s from, right? Even though it’s lessened over time, you still hear things like, ‘America’s heroes are always white.’"

Though not all, most of the famous and popular hunters in the U.S. were indeed white. There had been discussions about how similarly skilled or even weaker hunters received preferential treatment if they were white.

“Her ethics are fairly strict, so it’s hard to imagine her being involved with the people who kidnapped you and shot at you, Director Han. Still, as Sung Hyunje said, people aren’t always what they seem. Some folks are completely different on the inside.”

"The Breaker Guild Leader got tricked once, too. That’s why—"

“Shut your mouth, Sung Hyunje, before I stitch it closed,” Moon Hyuna growled, her brow furrowing. Hyuna-ssi had also been deceived at some point?

“It could just be my misunderstanding,” I said.

“Well anyway, Hyung-nim, if you’re rejected cleanly, then she probably doesn’t have any ulterior motives. Right?”

“Basically, yes. If she were targeting me, it’d be an opportunity she wouldn’t want to pass up."

Even though we were technically in a ceasefire with the Pious, both sides were allowed to maintain contact. There was no reason for them to refuse an opportunity to get closer to me.

"She might suspect it's a trap, but I think my behavior has been quite natural."

"It was good enough to fool me, so I’d say that’s a safe bet,” Hyuna said.

"I’m telling you, it’s real."

Besides, given how loudly I’d been declaring my supposed feelings and confessing, it’d be hard for anyone to believe this was all staged. And all I’d done was mention the idea of confessing.

"It seems the rumors have spread quite a bit.”

“Yeah, it’s all over our guild,” Hyuna replied.

“Sooyoung said she wants to catch the bouquet,” Sung Hyunje chimed in.

“Ah, Liette mentioned she might try to make a move before it’s too late, so be careful. Lock your doors at night.”

What nonsense was that? Does that mean Liette wouldn't touch someone who has a partner? I thought she wouldn't care about things like that, so it was a bit surprising.

“…I really feel bad for Chloe-ssi, though. If this turns out to be a misunderstanding, I’ll need to apologize properly."

"You said your behavior wasn't fake, right? Besides, you’re F-rank and younger than her, so it’s not a big deal. If Chloe were a low-rank hunter or your genders were reversed, I’d tell you to keep quiet, but this is just a harmless incident.”

Moon Hyuna waved her hand dismissively, assuring me that this situation would blow over as a minor incident. She even suggested Chloe might find it amusing.

“Please keep this a secret from others. From Yoohyun and Yerim, of course, but also from Director Song,” I requested.

If Yoohyun and Yerim found out, they’d give away the ruse immediately. And Director Song wasn’t great at acting either.

“Don’t worry. So, which hotel? Should I call in an orchestra?” Moon Hyuna was still excited, insisting that a confession was still a confession, after all.

“Fine, fine. Chloe-ssi probably knows what you’re like, Hyuna-ssi, so do as you please. I’ll just go along with the two of you and let you push me into confessing."

There was something else I hesitated to mention but felt I should, just in case.

“It seems Chloe-ssi’s stats are higher than what’s publicly known. She might actually be S-rank, not A-rank.”

“What?” Moon Hyuna’s eyes widened in surprise. It seemed even Sung Hyunje hadn’t anticipated that.

"The current Chloe Alger is about 2cm taller than the A-rank Chloe Alger."

"So that's why you were sure after seeing the data,” Sung Hyunje remarked.

“What are you two talking about?”

“The Chloe Alger I knew was 1 cm shorter, even five years from now.”

“…Five years from now?”

“I’m actually from five years in the future.”

“What Han Yoojin-gun says is true,” Sung Hyunje backed me up.

Moon Hyuna leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, staring at us. There was a moment of silence.

“…Well, fine. I guess a lot of strange things have happened since the dungeons appeared, so why not. We’ve been to other worlds, so time travel doesn’t seem too far-fetched. The bottom line is that you know what’ll happen over the next five years?”

“It’s changed a lot. Originally, I couldn't raise monsters. There was no rearing facility. S-rank mounts didn’t exist even five years later.”

"Things are much better then! That's all that matters." Moon Hyuna sat up and stretched her back, before sinking deep into the sofa. “Got any advice for me?”

“Not really. Just be cautious with the media, I guess? You can imagine why I would have known about that incident,” I said.

“Got it.”

She didn’t pry for more details. Just like in Achates, Hyuna-ssi lived in the present. She focused on the here and now, without lingering on a future that had disappeared. Even after the Breaker Guild collapsed prior to my regression, she would have continued on her own path. And that would be the same in this present.

“So, Chloe changed a lot physically from A-rank to S-rank, which is suspicious. Can those guys turn A-ranks into S-ranks? What about making S-ranks into SS-ranks?” Hyuna asked.

“That would be difficult. I did help Hunter Kim Sunghan grow into an S-rank, but that was different.”

“Oh, right, you did.”

“I only managed it because I figured out his growth conditions, but it still wasn’t easy. The requirements were strict.”

I also shared the exact date I had regressed. Moon Hyuna cheerfully left first, saying she’d prepare everything nicely. Gyeol glared at Sung Hyunje, as if urging him to leave quickly too.

"Will you send everyone away when you confess?" Sung Hyunje asked.

“Yes. The skill on me hasn’t lifted yet, so I’ll deactivate my Fear Resistance just in case. That should also make things more convincing.”

If Chloe were connected to Park Hayul, she might try to control me. Confessing to an S-rank I supposedly liked without Fear Resistance… it was going to look pretty pathetic. Honestly, it would be more surprising if she didn’t reject me. Just thinking about it made me a little sad. Honestly, it’s not like I had no desire for a normal relationship.

“Even if, by some miracle, she says yes, I’d still turn her down.”

Yerim, who had been supportive, told me to brush it off and stay strong in advance.

Yoohyun, however, still didn’t seem to believe I could be rejected. Sure, maybe on paper my qualifications were appealing…

"You know my situation well, but you’re acting like this?" I asked.

“…Yeah.”

"Didn't you say before that you'd step aside if I got married?"

“Really? Did Han Yoohyun really say that?” Yerim asked, looking between Yoohyun and me in disbelief.

“At the time, I thought it would be fine as long as Hyung was happy.”

"And now you don’t want to do that?"

“…No, I don’t,” Yoohyun shook his head apologetically. It was better for him to admit it than forcing himself to accept it. "Also, you barely know her. I’m not against you dating outright."

"Ajussi, that’s one hundred percent a lie,” Yerim cut in.

"I mean, if she were trustworthy, I’d be okay with it."

“Is there even anyone like that? By your standards, the only one who could pass is probably Peace,” Yerim pointed out.

“Yeah, Peace would be fine.”

Yerim and I both stared at Yoohyun. Oh… he seemed serious.

“Wow… Han Yoohyun," Yerim said slowly.

“Yoohyun-ah, at least consider the fact that Peace is a different species.”

Of course, I trusted Peace too, especially since I’d raised him myself.

“At least Peace would never hurt you, Hyung.”

“Right, right.”

As we talked, the car arrived at the hotel. Even though I was expecting to be rejected, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.

#sctir #the s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised #my s class hunters #내가 키운 s급들 #novel translation #han gyeol

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awrkive · 21 days ago

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Hi dee! i know you said you hate talking about your major, but im going to college this year and I'm scared to go to architecture school 🥲 I want it really bad, but the way people talk about it makes it very unappealing 🥲

hi anon!!!!!!!!! ok ok so this probs going to be a long post, and I advise u to read every single sentencejzhsksb (under the cut)

ok so first of all, where i live, architecture school is 5 years + 2 years of internship = min of 7 years, then licensure exam. that is a VERY, VERY and i repeat VERY long time. and thats only undergrad.

architecture is a creative program, meaning u dont necessarily "study" to get by. there are a lot of theoretical courses ofc, and technically, u still need to study (and read a TON of books to know about design principles and standards and laws) but application takes up 90% of it. in archi school, u need not only to be creative, but u have to be strategic, technical, and be purposeful in everything u do bcs its a fusion of science+arts after all (im not kidding. instructors would cook u to hell when ur design is "perfectly technical" but NOT creative, but they will also stone you if it's "too pretty" but u cant provide a clear cut answer to a certain something's mechanism).

now heres the biggest con to me: in order to survive it you will genuinely have to give up a lot of time. deadlines are given to u upon deadlines. ur only lucky enough if ur prof is one of those angels from heavens above whos considerate enough, but theyre very rare (per my experience). drawing = solving problems, and in this program you NEVER stop solving problems. its very draining tbh, bcs every week is a 7-day stay in the deepest pits of hell of ✨conceptualization✨ . i know no one, and i mean no one in my program who has a regular sleeping schedule, and even the most excellent time manager will sacrifice sleep in deadline week (which is every week 🤩) you will get to miss out on hangs with friends, family vacays and the likes bcs submissions just wouldnt stop. also, college is the reason why i started drinking coffee and energy drink. its unhealthy asf but i gen cant function without it now when i have my exams season. i also discovered i can go on full 48 hrs without a wink of sleep which is. AGAIN. unhealthy as fawk. , you will really have to toughen up your heart bcs the profs will always be honest and wouldnt hesitate to tell u to revise your work, no matter how much u think it's ok enough. they will keep telling u to revise until theyre satisfied lol.

another con is that its expensive as HELL. im very lucky im getting by on scholarships and i get allowances from them BUT i literally cannot imagine spending my familys money on all the things ive lent to this program 😭 when ur in first year u will still have to go manual so if u do not have the art supplies necessary, you'll have to buy them and again. THEY ARE EXPENSIVE AS HELL. and it doesnt end there bcs scale modeling goes on forever and its no joke. the materials are hard to fine (at least here) and their prices are ridiculous. then during higher years, you'll have to invest in a high-spec laptop (like gaming laptops) that will not give up on u under heavy use nvs ull be using a lot of software (that ur prods dont even teach you to work with 🤩 theyll jsut drop an instruction saying do this project in archicad and boom ur deep on 456 youtube tutorials which makes u question their existence in the first place but ANYWAY.

on the brightside tho.... its very very fulfilling, this major. architecture plays such an important role in our daily lives and it would feel really rad if we can be a part of that #beautiful thing. seeing the end of every project also pays back by teaching u handful of things. i also enjoy it when we get the chance to explore different building types like for instance my fave project i ever did was when we designed a physical rehabilitation center. ive never been in one before that but we got to explore it thanks to the project. also, you get to know people bcs u have and u WILL want to cater to their needs and wants – and as a girlie who wished she majored in psych thats the thing i love the most about architecture!!! it all boils down to people, how they move within and around space, and how u can help shape a beautiful & nice experience for them. its just a very very very interesting field

thing is, u need to be really dedicated if u want to go to archi school and survive. u have to be passionate abt it to push thru. if ur not really that sure abt it, i advice going against it lol. its just not worth it if its not smth u actually and really want (take that from me plsssjbsjxhsjwh). but if u really want to, then go! but just be really careful with that decision anon :')

anywhoo, good luck on college!!!!!!! may u go with what's in your heart 💗💗💗

#asks

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dailyravi · 3 months ago

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APIRL FOOOOLSSSS!!!!

i was gonna post this at like 12 but it was physically painful to post today lmao. so OF COURSE i am going back to posting ravi.

i could never stop fan girling over ravi even if i tried. i’ve got it bad. but he’s my literal wife and aren’t you supposed to be at least a little obsessed with your wife.

daily ravi here to stay… daily gerrard you won’t be missed

anyways back to regular scheduled programming

#ravi panikkar #911 abc #911 #911 on abc #vincent gerrard

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some-bunniii · 1 year ago

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Hi!!! I hope I’m putting this in the right place (i can never remember where I send these through) but I just wanted to say I absolutely love your Lucifer’s artist reader! You write so well and the romance is romancing. I also wanted to give you credit for how you right the side characters, the part with the egg boys was so cute and your writing style for sir pentious and angel dust was spot on for their speaking. Also loved the part with Charlie confiding in reader too. Anyways! Have a great day and can’t wait to read the next part! 🥳

Thank you 🙏🤍

I really wanted to bring them in without taking away from Lucifer, and i’m glad that you all enjoy the hotel crew :) wouldn’t want to ruin the immersion if they were written like basic side-characters, they deserve the same love they get in my head lmao. and, the egg bois are too cute to forget about em!

Right now i’m taking a lil break and working on a short fic for Alastor, which should be released in the next few days, hopefully by monday!

Then back to our regular scheduled program. That way I won’t get burnt out after writing 30k words about our baby boy luci 😂

have a wonderful day! <3

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raddestrose · 8 days ago

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OK, back to my regular schedule programming

Let’s see how this war goes

Taiju, I love you and everything, but maybe lets not yell when you have a super hearing Ukyo on the premises

why are they all in school uniforms?

they have a Swifty, Superfan Boot Camp arc

does he get in Ukyo next?

I have a feeling that their biggest problem like out of everybody when all I said and done, will be Hyoga and probably Homura too

or you hear me out, and he’s your next target because if he’s on your side, then you can use him to your advantage

Just saying

YOOOO I WAS RIGHT HE WAS A SONAR GUYHYYY

hate to break it to you again, but I think they’re like still there in the same spot. They just moved a LITTLE bit.

or if the smoke is correct, they are shish kebabs right now

What will RIP magma?

Oh my God they just shot him there. Oh

I mean, it’s called fight flight and freeze for a reason

that punk Ukyo’s gonna kill you

you fell for his trap, didn’t you Magma?

Up, He’s probably up

Chrome… why in gods name did you just stuff your hands down your pants?

Was that… your…

you know what we’re just gonna ignore that. We have more presenting concerns right now.

HE BEHIND YOUUUU

brought a little creeper, he sneaky

Oh my God Chrome noooooooooo

hey Ukyo, don’t you know what a white flag means?

I mean like in this case you did exactly what were supposed to do, but I’m still salty about it so I’m gonna be rude

What’s with that little smug grin?

I recognize that voice

oh my gosh wait

He’s a little cutie patootie look at him

Oawwwww

Who does his voice he sounds familiar give me a second

i’ve never heard this man’s voice in a specific recognizable role before, I look like a fool

but anyways, fact, my original point what a little cutie awww look at this guy

hey Ukyo, my guy can I call you my guy? I’m gonna call you my guy. That that’s your prisoner why are you being so kind to him?

Like I know Chromes good, Chromes my Homie we chill like that

But he is literally YOUR prisoner right now

Your sharp Chrome, good on you

I have a question

Is everybody in the Tsukasa Empire just standing in that cave looking menacingly IN CASE they capture somebody?

KOHAKU CHIILLLLL

oh shit, it’s go time

Ginro, or Kinro whichever one you are

You’ve gotta lock in man. This is the big leagues now they got your friend and you gotta go to the end of the Earth to get him back because that’s what friends do.

OOHH A WHEEL

A CAERR

wait

you were 15 when you turned into a statue, I highly doubt you have a license

bro, how are you gonna make a car in half an episode?

Gens right I have NEVER seen you this excited before

he REALLY wants that car

I need to Senku bobble head where he’s making that exact face

oh they look TERRIBLE

and they didn’t even use it

no Kohaku that’s just how he gets when he makes stuff

but Senku it’s Chrome…

Like I personally don’t know the guy as well as say you or Kohaku, but from what I know is he runs his mouth like crazy so… Even Kohaku is looking a bit pensive my screen is paused right now so I have no idea what she’s gonna say but she don’t look all that faithful in him either

oh never mind, she said the exact same thing I did never never mind she said TWICE for emphasis

I like how they all realized at the same time how dire the situation has become

CHROME

Shut your trap kid I beg you

chrome stop talking, PLEASE

Do not say that the big scary guy in charge of an army who is territory you are in at this very moment. It needs to be taught a lesson.

why do they all look like that? I am like seconds away from tears look at their faces right now you guys oh my God.

even the music stopped, they are so unimpressed

HELP- TUE CUT TO HIM DANGLING

I like how he’s just dangling like a ragdoll

CHROME THEY ARE NOT BLUFFING

STHAP TALKIN

SHOOIIIIITT HES GONNA DIE

BAAAHHHAAAAAA

nownhes really dangling

HOLY CRAP HE DID THAT WITH HIS BARE HANDS

he just threw a whole ass tree

Like I love Senku and science and stuff, but these guys are cooked cooked

like how was that even physically possible?

Like I mean in anime TV show and movie logic too not real life logic because that would’ve ended in like episode two when they brought him back and he fought a lion head on and WON

Ukyo im counting on you not to rat this guy out, I have faith in you,don’t make it misplaced

I truly deeply thank you

I think he’s starting to realize some things he’s coming up with things in his mind and I wink wink nudge nudge think he may possibly want to join up with you, wink wink, nudge nudge

You’re smart do the math

HE WANTS TO JOIN YOUR SIDE

I just know that if Seku was American, he would’ve KILLED it in the Cub Scouts

Cause like my little brother was in the Cub Scouts and every year we had a roller derby, and all I know is that Senku would CLEAR

actually, that reminded me what sound could you said that they’ve never seen something that moves on their own

So like I am like 99% sure that the manga ends after they’ve built civilization back up again

How would Ishigami village like for lack of a better word, cope or like integrate themselves into society?

Cause everyone who they brought back would’ve lived in the modern world, but these guys haven’t how would they live basically cause i know Senkus slowly Microdosing them with 21st-century technology, but I’m a very simple base level but how would they you know what I mean like I’m really bad at explaining it but like do you guys understand what I mean?

oh heck Gen, yeah oh, you’re looking mighty spiffy there with your nice little hat

I like how Senkus conductor hat has 10 billion on it

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little-shy-virgin · 4 months ago

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I hate when I can't seem to get out of my own head. Like, yea I'm still a Virgin. That's not really a bad thing. Ok, sure I don't have a 10 inch cock. Slightly above average is still fine for most except the whores that have been ran through, and I don't want them anyway. Yea, I'm not the best looking guy ever. But I'm not an obese slob that can't clean up after himself. Yet, I get so fucking lonely that I can't help but have thoughts that just keep me sad for extended periods. Probably some form of manic depression or some shit. Should look into that, maybe find someone to talk to. Kinks aside, mental health is super important. I am still a person after all, regardless of what gets my rocks off.

Ugh, anyway, enough of my venting, back to your regular scheduled program tomorrow. I need sleep.

#sad thoughts #depressing shit #tw depressing thoughts #mental health

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artisticdissillusion · 4 months ago

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Anyways, back to your regular scheduled programming

I can't read fics that aren't c!Tommy centric, I just can't. I've tried, best believe I've tried, but nothing makes me want to keep reading more than the story being from Tommy's perspective.

Is it toxic? Yes. Am I gonna continue doing it? Also yes.

It's not my fault he's such a good main character, his possibilities are just so endless

#c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #characters not creators #tommyinnit #im so toxic about him #i cant help it #he's my son

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physalian · 6 months ago

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Y'all ever heard of "IB"? I'll tell you my tale of woe

So we know the US education system is ass, right? The pressure to get good grades over actually learning anything is detrimental to both learning and the desire to seek knowledge and discover our world.

Well I have a little story, about this exact principle on acid. Idk if anyone on here will ever be in/or is already in something called the “International Baccalaureate” (IB) program. What it is, is an “intensely rigorous” allegedly-standardized method of schooling that’s supposed to be transferrable between countries. Like, if I went to an IB school in America, I could transfer to the equivalent education level in France and not be completely lost. That’s the point.

It's way harder than traditional high school, with zero focus on things like arts and physical education (you know, important shit) and a draconian dedication to STEM… and nothing else.

If it’s not clear, this shit did irreparable damage to my high school career, so this is a warning to anyone considering it: If you are not neurotypical and somebody who’s willing to get hospitalized over how stressed you are (which did happen to a friend of mine) maybe skip the snobbish high school? If you don’t plan on being a lawyer or a doctor, maybe skip this bullshit.

—

So, guess who did not know that they’re neurodivergent back then? Me. Somewhere in the realm of ADHD and Autism, possibly both, who knows? Either way, I’m “high functioning” and you’d never know, or so I’ve been told.

I went to this high school because I wanted to be with all my super smart friends, and bought into the classist bullshit of “traditional high school is for dumb kids” and the whole “honors program” hierarchy—in my middle school, your first year there, you were separated into four groups of students.

Group A was the dumb kids, and everybody knew it. Groups B and C were the average-intelligence kids. Group D were the “honors” kids. First day in 6th grade, you were literally handed a themed t-shirt and compared to every other kid you know and don’t know and implicitly told “you’re not as smart as these kids and we want you to know it”. I was in the B-C group, which absolutely led to “well I’m not smart enough to be in D, but at least I’m not an idiot like A”.

Super healthy shit to teach children.

You did not have classes outside of your group. It wasn’t like elementary school where honors kids split off for a few hours but were still in your class. It was a complete social schism, and you only saw these people during lunch and maybe across the yard in P.E.

Fuck that school.

So anyway, with that damage done, I wanted to go to the fancy high school with all my smart friends, applied, and got in.

When I was younger, I had a massive procrastination problem. The usual stuff, like not starting a project until the night before it was due, forging my parents’ signatures on forms they were supposed to sign as the teacher was collecting them (got super good at that, bet school wishes they hadn’t encouraged it), doing homework in homeroom the morning of, and completely forgetting about readings and such.

Not the case now, but back then it was chronic.

In regular “dumb-dumb” school, one can get away with neglecting a little work.

In IB, if you fuck up in year one, that fuckup will haunt you through your entire high school experience. Everything in IB builds on itself, so if you have a shitty foundation, you are screwed without even realizing it, and there is little fixing it.

IB is also structured irregularly compared to traditional American high school. You only have four “blocks” of classes each day, and they switch off every other day. So I’d have Day 1 on M, W, F one week, and then T R the next week, yada yada, with those blocks lasting 90 minutes. As opposed to the 50-ish minute classes with the same schedule daily.

You would think that this would make it easier, as teachers had more time per period to really dive deep into subject matter without being rushed.

You would be wrong.

IB, like with all American schools, focuses on quantity over quality. Quantity in every facet of schooling. I needed a rolling backpack so I didn’t fuck up my spine hauling around my textbooks because the school didn’t have classroom copies/you needed them every goddamn night for homework and in class. The amount of homework, frequency of tests and quizzes, all that, is increased compared to traditional school.

But my very first class, my 1:1, was Algebra 2. Reader: I am awful at algebra. I cannot learn concepts without being able to ground them in realty. Geometry always came easy to me, because you can see and touch geometry. It has practical uses and follows logic. I can use a formula to measure the volume of a box, or I can bust out the tape measure by hand and get the exact same answer.

Algebra is fictitious, it’s not grounded in the tangibility of geometry, and once we hit stuff like quadratic equations, without being able to understand why I was learning what I was learning and how this all fits in to the greater concept of mathematics and why it matters, I not only checked out, but started to feel very, very stupid.

This was my very first class.

I almost failed Algebra 2. I had gone down to a 33%, because my teacher, for this super smart and super fancy high school, taught the same way every other teacher in that godforsaken place taught: Lecture.

If you do not learn through lecture, you’re fucked at an IB school. If you cannot process and retain information simply because someone tells it to you, you’re fucked. If staring at a 70-slide powerpoint presentation is understimulating, you’re fucked.

This teacher’s personality in particular was absolutely nasty. Haughty as the rest of the school, who made jokes at the idea of returning to the “trads” and the “dumb kids” at regular high school if you dropped out, and we had several who were way smarter than me who left by day 3, who were able to understand that this was not for them, while I stuck it out for 2 years.

I brought that 33% up to a 65% and got my first ever D.

But that first class, opening day of my high school career, left an impression that I carried with me for two whole years: Out of absolute terror of being thought of as “dumb” by leaving all my friends to go to traditional high school, I chose to be the dumbest of the “smart kids” instead of the “smartest” of the “dumb” kids.

And I paid for it.

I spent two whole years completely checked out and unwilling to learn because of this one math teacher on my first day of high school. Once I figured out that this man and this institution did not give a single fuck if I passed and would not change their teaching style at all to accommodate me, I could not be bothered.

I still got decent grades, and I did have classes, like geometry and my second year of English, in which I excelled. I had teachers who cared and loved their jobs, but by and large, I spent two whole years suffering because of the social pressure to pretend to be neurotypical, to learn the “normal” way, to pretend to be the only valid definition of “smart”. I had a Spanish teacher who gave me dresscode 3 days before the end of the school year, right after I failed an oral exam, in the back of the class where everyone could hear us. The entire foreign language department of conservative bitches stared at the girls wearing shorts with far more intensity than they should have.

We had this thing for “volunteer” hours that had three groups: community service, creative hours, and one other thing I can’t remember. I do remember desperately approaching my shit guidance councilor, the sole lady responsible for the entire school’s population of IB kids, asking if I could count my builds in Minecraft as part of my creative hours because I needed a certain number of hours to pass.

She I guess heard “video game” and thought I was slacking off killing mobs, when I played the game for the builds. But “creativity” only counts if it’s what they define as “creativity”.

Every step of the way, this education program demanded more. I got humiliated by multiple teachers in front of multiple classes because I did not understand something and got so upset that I cried, and they refused to explain it in any other way except repeating what they’d already said in lecture. I lived 45 minutes away from this school by bus and my parents couldn't come pick me up or drop me off to use office hours or study groups even if I wanted to, and I sure as hell didn't have a car.

So when I left, to go back to my regional high school for my junior and senior year (after getting gaslit and guilted by my parents for “failing to uphold my commitments”) turns out, I’m not an idiot.

Suddenly, I had teachers who gave a shit. I was turning in assignments on time. I was doing my homework the night it was given. I was starting projects in the very next class. I finally got straight-As. I liked learning again.

Turns out, not every “smart” kid I knew went to IB, they were instead very successfully running my regional high school’s SGA. They were doing just fine in getting into the colleges of their dreams and pursuing STEM. They didn’t need IB one bit.

The only good thing IB gave me was that by the time I got to college, it was a breeze.

All these years later, the thing that sticks with me the most was how much of a sham the whole thing is, and this insidious caste system of perceived intelligence. My super fancy IB school was inside of a larger high school built in a rural area, and put there to make that school look smarter.

So you had this institution not only giving these rural kids an enemy to hate, but reinforcing an idea that they’re not as smart as the special IB kids. And in turn, you’re telling the IB kids “you’re better than your peers, look at how dumb they are”.

While then sacrificing absolutely everything in the name of "quality education". Arts and music, physical exercise and sports, free time outside of school now spent doing homework, free time at all to have a mental break from it, and time to go to clubs and school events. You could take those extra classes, sure, but it cost you in time you needed to do all your other non-negotiable homework. You might graduate and get into Harvard Law, but you might get there with a heart condition from stress that you'll have for the rest of your life. Is that degree worth it?

But also how narrow and antiquated this idea of intelligence and learning is. I’m someone who, by and large, does not need to study, so long as I care about the subject matter.

One time in college, I took astronomy. I love astronomy. I ditched a class once and forgot all about a big unit test we had coming up. I walked into the next class to that test, having prepared nothing, and wrote a note on the top of my test before taking it apologizing to my astronomy professor for the F I was about to get.

I got the highest score in the class (a 92 I think), having only paid attention during lecture, because I cared and I wanted to learn and was able to retain everything only from hearing it, seeing it, and writing it down once. So long as something is grounded in the context of why it matters, one lecture is usually all I need, and I am consistently the fastest test-taker I know.

But back in high school, once the “you are not supposed to be here” baked in and solidified within the first week, that was detrimental for two long and stressful years, and, guess what? I’m not friends with any of those people anymore.

I probably could have done it, but the attitude of that pretentious, bullshit program ruined it. The people who stayed all four years? Some ended up at my college anyway, they just got better scholarships.

So to anyone who’s thinking about IB or knows anyone thinking about it or who is already struggling and suffering: Unless you plan on being a doctor or a lawyer, it’s not worth it, and you aren’t “smarter” just because you can learn one very specific way. I left after two years and never went back.

#physh be rambling #american education #international baccalaureate #long post

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