#like it's part of the core curriculum

[the-music-keeper]

Objective #10 is done. While most of the requirements look vague on paper (like most seminar classes do, to be honest), Dr. Clark's bio has a wonderful list of topics he's led seminars on -- including flamenco and tango.

[asaxophony]

i wish my fucking grad school would like formalize how the profs are allowed to give lesson plan assignments. my prof last semester was like hell yeah you only need to loosely follow this format meanwhile this one is like im going to fucking kill you myself if you dont use this specific thing that is extremely over detailed and will take you forever thanks.

[pseudowho]

Professor Higuruma: Part One, Star-Crossed

Leaving your job behind to study Law, you fall into the gravity of Professor Higuruma Hiromi. Soon, you find yourselves entwined in an affair so deep and alluring, you cannot see where Hiromi ends and you begin.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut from Part One, age-gap relationship (20s to 40s), 'thread of fate', tw- leaving an emotionally neglectful relationship, tw- alcohol use, wet dreams and daydreams

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The bottle would not draft his timetable, and as such, it remained corked. Hiromi's thirst extended past wine and warm bodies, to something altogether more elusive; an alleviation of his crippling loneliness-- that which ground him down to dirt.

Hiromi sat on his sofa, picking up the claret, rolling it in his hands, putting it down, running his fingers through his hair, clenching white knuckles against jittering thighs.

The week had been long. His Department was undergoing fresh demands for classes and time and curriculums and more, that Hiromi had not the staff to facilitate. With the new term about to start, and fewer professors than ever, Hiromi felt like the wick in the middle of a candle burning at both ends.

From the heated sneers that set to flame in the room around him, Hiromi wasn't the only one already balancing on a knife edge. He felt the frost crisp the earth around Nanami Kento, his Literature department already at the end of their tether.

If the rampant deep-seated loathing for the world in which he lived didn't kill him first, the stress would. The loneliness would. The drink would. The pressure would. The late nights would. The loneliness the loneliness the loneliness the loneliness--

Hiromi threw his bottle and responsibilities to the sofa. Too touch-starved for solitude, but too burned out for company, Hiromi grabbed his jacket and keys, and headed for his favourite bar.

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See you later? At the bar across the street.

Let me know when you'll be here.

Are you still coming?

Not dressed up, sorry. On your way?

Got you a drink. See you soon?

???

The Spring evening was too crisp for such chilly rejection. The sun had seemed hopeful, earlier in the day, and you hadn't brought a jacket. You felt the bite upon your exposed arms, a nipping punishment for your optimism. Whether he was here, or not, made no great difference; he had not given you his jacket in a long time.

He would come, you reassured yourself. You'd buy him his favourite drink, and he'd arrive late, all I'm so sorry baby, you know how it is, c'mere, I'll warm you up, with twinkles in his eyes like you'd hung his stars and his hand in yours and the life you had lived and shit don't cry you stupid bitch pull yourself together.

You scurried into the bar, embraced by your own arms, before ordering his favourite drink and yours, as if a summoning ritual. The bar had a happy thrum, warm with love and life, and you saw cherry blossoms drift across the torch lit balcony. It beckoned you. You remained, waiting for your spell to work, with your eyes on the door.

The torches dwindled. A barman went to refill them with oil. Your fiancé had not arrived. The ice in his drink had almost melted, and you sank into a sigh that shredded down to the very core of you. The first time you saw the man in the black suit, arriving on a thundercloud, and sitting a few barstools down from you, you registered him only briefly, past the knife in your gut.

Then, a pair of coal-dark eyes met yours. The torches on the balcony reignited with a whoomph, setting drifting blossoms to pink-spark ember on the Tokyo backdrop. Your breath caught halfway, the scent of smoky petals and spiced cologne on the sides of your tongue. The barest clink of ice cubes settling in the glass, cracked through the moment that time had paused.

The man in the suit opened his mouth, offering only the other half of the breath he had stolen. His hangdog eyes were so curiously expressive. A smile wrinkled his nose. You stumbled across yourself, pressing your fiancé's undrunk drink across the bar to the black-suit man.

"Would you like this? It's in need of appreciation." The black-suit man laughed, a breathy rumble.

"Is it indeed?" He took the glass with long fingers, and you followed the trail of a trickle of the glass's condensation, dripping down his finger's inner length, to pool at the junction between. "Will it taste bitter in the mouth of someone for whom it was not intended?"

You smiled, your eyes narrowing in tease. "It is a gift."

"Oh!" He uttered, laced with small joy. "Then it will be sweet." He took a sip, a vermouth-honeyed tongue darting across his lips with an appreciative hum. "Yes, quite. Welcome, little drink. There is joy to be found amongst the unwanted." You laughed, and Hiromi felt a curious yank upon his finger. He had fallen into your company, and could not get back up.

"I must be old," he laughed again, swiping commas of grey-streaked Inky hair from his temples, "because I've forgotten my manners. I'm sorry for pressing conversation upon you. Thank you for the drink."

You shook your head, without the appropriate words to express how a stranger had warmed you more in moments than you had been in years. Your black-suit man bowed his head, standing, and turning away before pausing. Fate rolled a dice.

"The balcony looks lovely. And, empty." Hovering on one footstep, his gait then steadied, and brogued black shoes clipped across the polished floor. You felt something fine and golden tug within your chest, as torchlight rolled across the black-suit man's disappearing shoulders. Another diceroll raised Fate's eyebrows.

You stood, hesitating between the balcony and the bar. The barman buried a scoop into some ice, watching two strangers interact with an oddly burgeoning certainty. He never interfered. Fate flipped a coin; how readily the stars did align.

"He likes red wine." The barman offered, nodding between your stuttering gape, and the void the black-suit man left in the doorway. You frowned, biting your bottom lip, unaware that your path had been decided before the words left your mouth.

"Then I like red wine, too." The barman smiled. He reached to a row of dusty wine racks above his head, pulling out a bottle with a glassy clink.

"Do you trust me?" The barman asked, placing the bottle before you with a muted thud. You felt a bubble of joy up your nose.

"I do, actually." You replied, awash with certainty as you paid, took two glasses, and headed towards the balcony. As you walked through the doorway, and firelight uncovered the gems hidden within your hair and eyes, your black-suit man smiled, and gestured to the rattan sofa opposite him.

As you sat, strangely comfortable under his gaze, in your state of plain dress, your black-suit man smiled over at you. He looked awkward for a moment, not trusting himself in his own shoes.

"...all this and I wasn't actually prepared for company." You both laughed. Your black-suit man watched you with a glimmer in his eyes, fingers plaited and clasped under his nose, leaning forwards on propped elbows. You struggled to open the wine. He huffed through his nose, your fingers brushing as you handed the bottle over with a scoff.

The man's eyes narrowed as the bottle opened with a brittle schtick; "Loosened it for me--" you laughed again, pinching your nose bridge, "--no no I mean it, I'm really very weak--" You rolled in your laughter together, with him babbling smiling reassurance, while he poured your wine.

"I have one condition to this rendezvous-- please can we not talk about work?" He groaned, clinking your two glasses together in his own hands before passing one to you, still warmed by fading laughter.

"Absolutely. I promise. No work talk."

He was older than you, by an uncertain amount, though you were no girl. You leaned on one palm, in easy silence as you smelled the petal-burst flames. He watched the aurora cast upon your cheeks, feeling his chest fill in a way he couldn't describe.

"...Hiromi." He offered. "My name's Hiromi."

"And it suits you. Should I remain a great mystery?" You gasped, melodramatic with one hand over your mouth.

"Appalling manners!" Hiromi shot. "You owe me a name."

"I gave you a drink! And a bottle of wine."

"Bullshit."

"I don't owe you a thing, in fact--"

The evening trailed away, all warm banter, easy laughter and lingering looks. The conversation grew sloppier, uninhibited, lubricated by wine, of which the bottles nestled, one, two, two and a half. Hiromi had laughed, as deep and rich and mature as the grapes, positively Dionysian, his laughter dying on his lips to catch you mid-shiver. He huffed into his glass, the scent of fermentation rolling back over his own face.

"Here." He dropped, lackadaisical as he sloped past on the way to the bathroom. You blushed to feel his jacket nestle, warm and homely, around your shoulders. He did not appreciate the enormity of the gesture, to you, as he walked away. On his return, you appeared muted, holding onto his jacket around with with two chilly hands. Hiromi felt a stutter in his chest, and sat down beside you.

"...are you alright?" He whispered, soft under the torchlight. Your head drooped onto his shoulder, your neck softened by wine, and he puffed his surprise, short and sharp across your cheek.

"I've had such a lovely time." You sniffed, feeling the clock tick far too late, and you had a busy day ahead, with the start of your new course, and you had to get home and prepare your mind for the beginning of a new life and--

"It...doesn't have to be over." Hiromi intoned, and your belly clenched as his voice rumbled through your core. Your head turned on his shoulder, your nose brushing his. Hiromi spoke again, stroking your nose with his until your eyes fluttered closed, having never felt more certain of anything in his life. "I...I've never done this, but...come home with me, just tonight, and--"

Your phone rang, shrill and piercing and you cried out, jolting away from Hiromi's touch. He chased your lips, his face twisting in a pain you didn't see, as you looked down at your phone screen, slurring.

"Shit...my fiancé..."

Hiromi's belly tumbled, sick with disappointment-- with something altogether more possessive-- and feeling that yank upon his finger, more insistent as he spoke, low and slow.

"Your...fiancé?" The words tasted rotten. Hiromi felt sick, bitter with the sudden loss, hobbled by the brutality of having gained the stars and lost them all at once. He watched you swallow, watched the flash of a wound reopening, piecing the puzzle together so fast now.

"The one who stood you up?" Hiromi toned, venomous with the injustice of the theft. You mistook the direction of his anger, and looked up, your face tight with apology. Hiromi shook his head, raising a hand. Your phone stopped ringing. A few moments passed before your phone buzzed. You read a message as Hiromi stood, turning on the spot, his hands cupped over his nose and mouth.

"You...shouldn't worry. I assume he's coming to pick you up, and I...thank you for such a lovely evening, it's been--"

You laughed without humour, eyes brimming with tears. You shook your head, and nodded, and shook your head again. Hiromi watched you, uncertain.

"I'll walk myself home. He's gone to bed." Hiromi paused, then scoffed.

"You're not walking home alone. Not a chance. Not like this."

He extended a hand to you. You took it, as if tied by the fingers. He held you, like this, all the way home to your cold bed.

You took each others' breath with you as you parted at the door. Hiromi was sure that his loneliness would not kill him first; the drink would not kill him first; the stress would not kill him first; the late nights would not kill him first; the pressure would not kill him first. Being taken to great heights, and then dropped in a dizzying fall, would.

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"Thank you for inviting me in." You whispered, smiling against the shell of his ear. In his bed, soft and open against his body, Hiromi sighed into your touch, your fingernails trailing across his scalp as he groaned. His cock throbbed, thick with promise.

"Couldn't leave you out there, naked." He mumbled against your lips, reaching under the covers to feel you and meeting only the cloth resistance of the mattress, but you were there because he could taste the wine on you, and you were opening yourself to him, he knew somehow.

"You're the one who undressed me." You said, your voice above him, but he was climbing above you, bracketing you to the bed while your voice whispered all around him. Hiromi felt his cock grasped, bucking forwards into the warmth and softness of it, chasing warmer and softer, and he begged you.

"Please you...never told me your name...let me in please, please--" He couldn't see your face with his eyes closed in this odd black moonlight, somehow within you and outside of you all at once. One more rock of his hips seated him within you, plush walls pillowy and smooth and all for him.

He groaned, low and desperate, rocking his cock inside you and he longed for you to welcome him with your arms, but any time he tried to draw them round him they flopped, useless, absent, so he urged you with his hips rutting faster, to pleasure you into holding him. Was it you crying out, or him? He couldn't tell, his pleasure mounting, pulsing through him in waves and why wasn't he trying to stop himself, he hadn't done anything for you--

Hiromi woke with a gasp, his pillow clutched between taut arms as he fucked involuntarily into the mattress, groaning into the mess of cum spurting between his sheets and belly. Hiromi's voice cracked, still lost in his dream, still spilling himself inside you in his mind. The blissful contractions of his cock dizzied him, surely the wettest dream he'd ever had.

Coming back to earth, Hiromi panted, face down in his pillow and a pool of his own sticky seed. His phone alarm rang. He groaned, feeling the catastrophic disappointment of the night before wash over him anew. Seeing the date on his phone in fumbling hands, sent another groan through him, and he buried his hooked nose in the pillow.

The new academic year began today.

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"Higuruma." More statement than question, Hiromi accepted Nanami Kento's proffered coffee as if being reminded of his own name. Hiromi took it, weary and silent, slouched at his desk beneath the crushing weight of having been scooped out in the middle.

Kento sat in Hiromi's visitor chair, regarding Hiromi with cool impassivity. He read the usefulness of any comments he could make, and set them aside for business.

"How do you plan on handling your evening classes? The high-school ones." Hiromi scoffed.

"Nanami, it is 8am on the first day of term, you cannot surely have a plan--"

"We'll offer assistant wages to one or two new First Years." Nanami said, before continuing, sniping and bitter. "If we must lose our Graduate Professors, and if we must host the accessibility courses ourselves, then at least the First Years can gain some income and some experience through teaching."

Hiromi rested his cheek on one palm. He stared Kento down.

"That...that's not a bad idea, actually, Nanami. I shall use that, I think." Kento and Hiromi inclined coffees and heads to each other, an easy camaraderie. Kento let the silence hang as Hiromi scribbled in his diary.

"I don't actually know how we'll do it, Nanami." Hiromi groaned, his face in his hands. "They make staffing cuts as if I can knit a new professor to take some of these classes. How much more 'self-directed learning' can I give these students? It's barbaric. They're being bled dry for this degree, and for what? So they can teach themselves? Shit."

Kento did not disagree, frosty again as the University Chancellors' departmental meeting montaged before his eyes.

"They're paying for a library, and the pleasure of our limited company." Kento sneered, as bitter as his coffee dregs. Hiromi sighed, trying to rub the alcohol away with his fingertips on his temples. Kento's eyes narrowed in cool regard, again.

"Home, or bar?" Hiromi grumbled, steepling his fingertips across his nose.

"Am I so fucking transparent?"

The faintest quirk lifted the corner of Kento's lips. He awaited an answer. Hiromi's head swam with the memory of you, interspersed with the false memories from the dream of being nestled between your thighs, and he felt his cock twitch. Hiromi shook himself out of it, sitting up and shaking his hands out with a huff.

"Bar, if you must know. It was...a late one." Kento hummed again. Hiromi did not elaborate.

"You should try harder to rest, before a work day. It is...irresponsible of you." Hiromi glowered over at Kento, Hiromi's junior by a good few years, quacking after him.

"Yes mother." Kento scowled.

"I could report you." Stony silence. Two chuckles in the office.

"No. You won't do that. You're my best friend."

"I don't have friends--"

"Shush."

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You recalled taking a day off work, on your fiancé's first day at University. You ironed his shirt the night before. You made him lunch, with notes and flourishes. You enjoyed a hot breakfast together, brimming over like the coffee pot about his future, while you worked to support him, and then your future, while he worked to support you. You had opened your arms to release him, and closed them around him on his return.

And god, you had worked, gruelling long hours for three gruelling long years, but despite the great chasm he had dug between you, you had brimmed over again when he landed his new job. A lucrative career. More than enough to pave your way, while he worked to secure your future--

He stayed in bed as your alarm went off. He accepted your affectionate nuzzles, before rolling away into the embrace of bed. Your fingers closed around nothing. You ate cereal. You packed your bag. You bubbled, low and alone. You wondered if he'd mind you slipping a banknote out of his wallet for your lunch. Your belly clenched with anxiety, and you packed a microwave meal instead.

You rocked, rhythmic with the clatter-back-and-forth of the train. Your eyes closed. Your music was soft. Though, not as soft as those coal-soft eyes, the gentle, brushing aquiline nose against yours, of the night before. Not as soft as the bittersweet ache of loss, of failing to know him better. The ghost of his touch soothed the stinging guilt, of wishing you had spent the night in his arms, instead.

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Hiromi was early to his first class, his nerves too frayed and electric to be anything other than hypervigilant. The lecture hall stretched up around him, an amphitheatre where he would slowly watch the soul and enthusiasm be sucked out of those wishing to learn Law.

He had held some optimism, years prior, that his own fractured soul (from years of systemic self-abuse in the Criminal Defense system) could be soothed by teaching the next generation of lawyers, solicitors, and barristers.

Alas, second to idealism, feckless optimism had oft been Hiromi's failing. Alas, the decaying state of education and academia could provide no such balm to his soul while it crumbled itself, and expected its professors to use their bodies and bones to prop up the teetering institution. The grind was different, but just as potent. Hiromi felt the crushing responsibility of leading his department through this storm, and wondered how many would remain on the ship once the rain cleared from his vision.

He resigned himself to filling his chalice with the immeasurable optimism of the fresh and uninitiated. Though under-subscribed compared to prior years, he was still excited to receive his first batch of students for the term. He hoped their passion could bounce off of him, and multiply, exponential.

While preparing his slides for the day, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, Hiromi heard the steady fill of the lecture theatre behind him.

He could not shake the ghost of your head upon his shoulder. He could not shake the taste of your skin from his dreams. He could not shake his regret, for not shaking you by the shoulders and insisting you deserved better, instead of delivering you back to the bed of a man who didn't appreciate the treasure within his grasp.

"I'll be with you in a moment!" Hiromi called behind him, waving one white-sleeved arm in a vague gesture. "Please be seated! I shan't be long."

The chatter crescendoed behind Hiromi, and he turned, clapping his hands together and affecting a smile and speech, gazing into the sea of new faces.

"Good morning everyone! Welcome to your first class. I'm delighted you have all chosen to study the Law-- it means the flow of the insane into our noble professions remains, as ever, consistent." A few smattered laughs from the audience. Hiromi grabbed his clicker, a slide slow flicking onto the great screen behind him.

"My name is Professor Higuruma, and while I will only be teaching you Case Law this year, today we shall talk about what to expect from your course, and--and..."

Oh, god. Those eyes, that haunted him. The body he had made love to while he slept. The shock, mirrored in your own eyes back at him, a participant in his new audience.

Hiromi's arm and mouth drooped, with the tug of the fine gold thread that you, too, felt. The night you had almost shared together passed across two pairs of distant, breathless lips. You felt every pulse, every nerve, every fibre of yourself skip a beat.

How readily had the stars aligned.

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Part Two, Interpretation, coming soon!

[mistydeyes]

a panacea

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pan·a·ce·a noun

a solution or remedy for all difficulties or diseases.

summary: In pharmacy school, patient interaction was a core part of the curriculum. You tirelessly remember long, coffee-fueled nights going over your notes for each Professional Practice Skills class. The 141 boys make sure you can exercise these communication skills daily.

141's medical file reference

pairing: Task Force 141 x pharmacist!Reader

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds and needles, fluff, flirting, and mutual crushes

a/n: i'm an american pharmacy student so sorry for some inaccuracies about how pharmacy across the pond

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As you walked into the pharmacy and began your shift, you paged through a few recent scripts and checked in with your technicians. Your graduation from university, years of clinical experience, and now your more recent military training seemed like a distant memory. You would constantly see a variety of service men and women every day without much thought. Yes, there were some repeat individuals but overall everything seemed to blend. 

Despite this, you still attempted to form a meaningful interaction with each patient regardless of what they’d be picking up. Doctors were constantly bothersome with questions about the recommended treatment and asking for a drug not listed on the formulary. Patients were different though, you would always try to have a friendly conversation and wonder what missions they would be deployed on once they left the queue. As you prepared to work through today’s prescriptions and tackle a new medication supply, you reminded yourself that today was filled with a new set of faces to meet.

price

The members of 141 were all too familiar with a distant employment in a foreign country. It was part of the job description, something you do without question. However, some countries had the luxury of also having medication to take for the duration of the trip. Malaria is no joke and you always had to ensure you ordered an abundant supply of antimalarials for the soldiers constantly going around the world.

Today was no exception, your new order had literally been flying off the shelves. It was the post-breakfast rush and you had a few boxes left of atovaquone/proguanil (Malarone). Although the frequency of taking these was a pain, you loved the easy verification and packaging of the box.

As you continued to provide the queue with their prescriptions, a familiar face and hat made its way to the front.

"Ah Captain Price, back again?" you grinned as he approached the counter.

"Back too soon," the man chuckled, the deep baritone of his laugh bouncing across the walls. "I believe I have a couple of things to pick up from you, love."

With that, you pulled his file up and confirmed his array of medications. Generally, nothing out of the ordinary you noted and acknowledged the new addition of Malarone.

"Yes just give me a moment," you replied as you went to grab his bag.

As the bottles rattled around in the bag, you took a peek and counted the correct number of bottles/boxes, and verified their appearance.

"Now are you going for leisure or work? I saw the newest order for an antimalarial." Secretly you knew the answer but there was always the possibility that the Captain was going on leave.

He let out another small chuckle, "I think you know the answer to that one, doll. Duty calls."

You smiled back, the small inclusion of pet names brightening your day. "Alright then, and I'm assuming you know the regimen. This isn't your first rodeo."

"Yeah, take one for the next day, every day there, and for the week when I get back." You hummed in agreement with his response and he gave you a quick thanks before turning to go.

"Oh but while you're here, any interest in some smoking cessation recommendations!" Like before, you knew the answer. This man was loyal to his country and even more loyal to his cigars. The air filled with the fragrance of musk and cigar smoke whenever he came in definitely made an impression on you.

With this last comment, he let out a final, breathy laugh before responding, "You are many things, Captain, but that's a fucking miracle I don't believe you can pull off."

soap

Infections were no surprise to you. Especially working in the military, there was plenty of incidence for it. Most of the time and even after the doctor patched them up and directed them on proper care, there would still be a select few that would return with an infection.

The rest of the morning was quiet, you were able to catch up on some documentation and had time to pop into the medical wing to provide your pharmacist expertise. That's why when everyone's favorite Scot came by to pick up his antibiotic you didn't mind the company.

"Hi gorgeous, I'm here because of some doc's slipshod job stitching me up." He beamed as he raised his forearm to reveal new stitches and a clearly red, inflamed area. You quickly pulled up his file and your suspicions of an infection were confirmed.

"Sure, MacTavish. I completely believe that the medic specifically botched yours out of the whole team," you sarcastically replied. You served multiple tours with the "guilty" medic and knew they were of equal expertise to you. There was a reason they were performing surgeries while you provided insight and the medication. "I also trust you managed to keep the wound clean and didn't do anything stupid like, I don't know, training instead of resting," you finished as you raised an eyebrow.

He looked like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Ah good one, Doc, I guess nothing is getting past you."

"Mhmm, I'll make you think twice about negatively referring to my colleagues. And again, you know I'm not a doctor. If I were, you know I wouldn't be so willing to stitch you up and send you on your way" you jokingly threatened. He shuddered slightly, he wouldn't want to imagine a world where you were his medic on the battlefield. But then again, his constant injuries would mean frequent visits.

"But I would get to see that gorgeous face of yours more," he joked and you could feel your face flush. His flirty antics and your eye rolls were a staple of this relationship.

"Do you talk to everyone this way?" you countered, "I bet your superiors love the constant flow of compliments and just blush at your tone."

"Oh yes, they do. My Lieutenant turns into a giggling mess underneath his mask. Do you know he's bloody handsome under that? You should try flooding him with pet names and admiration to see for yourself." He responded, a clear sarcasm in his voice evident even with his familiar accent.

"Will do, MacTavish. Now will you let me get your medication so I can return you to your loverboy?"

"Of course, Captain" he saluted exaggeratedly as you walked to the rows of shelves.

You opened the bag and then placed the verified medication into his hand. "You know the routine and for the love of God, please finish the amount in here. I don't want to be seeing another order for Augmentin from you any time soon!"

"Yes, love, but nothing can stop this machine from gathering more illnesses and wounds requiring your expert care." You rolled your eyes as he explained and gave a cocky gesture showcasing his chiseled injured body.

"Don't mess with me, you know I can easily sneak my way into the med ward and make sure you go nighty-night." You were bluffing, the Hippocratic oath painfully engraved in your mind. But it didn't hurt to joke back.

"Oh I'll be sure to watch out for you, scary legal drug dealer." With this last jab, he walked out and left you chuckling to yourself at his antics.

gaz

The flowers and trees were in full bloom around the base. It reminded you of the days studying outside and crying over learning your Year 2 immunology coursework. However, just like immunology, pollen just made your job more difficult. It seemed like the scripts for nasal sprays and allergy medication were endless. Day after day you would go to work with your technician as you helped their workload by filling the myriad of prescriptions.

Following the quiet lunch hour, the pharmacy quickly became flooded with people. As a younger soldier presented to your counter, you could immediately guess what they were here for.

Although he was not one of your repeat offenders, his watery eyes and the constant flow of sniffles made it clear that he was another victim of the unrelenting pollen.

“Garrick, Kyle,” he said and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him as he stood there a sniffling mess. You typed his name in and checked his credentials as he turned to sneeze.

“Ah yes, you have a nasal spray and another prescription here. Just give me a moment.” You walked away from the counter as you heard him chuckle and call out, “You wouldn’t happen to have a panacea back there would you?”

“Unfortunately I do not,” you said and frowned upon your return, “But just take these once a day with water and use the nasal spray as needed. One puff in each nose should do the trick and don’t forget to shake it!” You explained. Holding the small container of pills you noted, "Plus this is Piriteze, so you won't feel tired after taking but I usually recommend taking a half hour before you know you're going outside or having any interaction with pollen."

He nodded in agreement and took out a tissue to blow his nose for the hundredth time today. This action didn't relieve his congestion. Allergies were really the bane of everyone's existence and you felt for him as he let out a couple of sneezes and apologized.

As he took the bag you gently said, “Sometimes something spicy really clears everything out. Spice has the benefit of being both delicious and working as a decongestant. You’ll definitely need some tissues but it’s worth it in my opinion.” With that, you offered a wink and sent him on his way.

"You're truly an angel. I'll be sure to update you, love," he beamed at you with a dashing smile. You would be flattered if it had not been for his subsequent barrage of sneezes.

A few days later, a pleased Gaz returned to you and explained your life hack had worked. One half bottle of hot sauce later and he had been congestion free. Brushing your astonishment at his spice tolerance aside, you explained that it had been just the medicine. However, Gaz would soon be giving everyone an earful of your non-conventional methods. Although his mates constantly joked about the image of him drowning in snot (a picture gracefully captured by Soap), he was thankful for you, the pretty pharmacist, and the help.

ghost

You could feel the headache forming from the fluorescent lights and the busy day you were currently having. This morning new missions called for you to enforce the regimen of taking antimalarials and in the afternoon, returning soldiers required pain medication and antibiotics (although you were thankful these were tablets and not through IVs). However, this was no challenge to you and you were further encouraged by the recent positive interactions you’d been having.

Just as you stepped away for a water break, your desktop notified you of a patient awaiting their prescription. You sighed and walked over to see the patient file as well as what medication they’d be receiving today.

You read the name carefully and slowly, partially because of your tiredness as well as your irrational fear of giving the patient the wrong medication.

“Riley, Simon” you mumbled and kept repeating the name as you walked amongst the rows of bags to retrieve the medication.

Just some routine painkillers. You examined the container to verify the oval, white pills of paracetamol.

As you notified the waiting soldier, your computer showed a reminder that they were due for a flu shot. You smiled, immunizations were often done routinely through a clinic but sometimes, you would get a break from your day and be able to administer one.

You acknowledged the reminder just as the soldier walked up. Tall, brooding, and donning a unique balaclava, you presumed this was Simon Riley. Your earlier conversation with Soap made you realize that this was the man who put up with all of his antics. You wondered if the paracetamol was for an injury or his raging headache from his Sergeant.

Recognizing his rank, you greeted him warmly and went to verify his patient credentials. He was a quiet man, only replying to your necessary prompts. This further added evidence that the medication was because of Soap, the chatterbox that he is. As you handed over his prescription, you let him know the bad news.

“Unfortunately, you are due for a flu shot but I can have you out of here in less than 15 minutes if you’d like?” you smiled, "or you could always just have me refer you out to get it while you're on leave."

"I'll do it now, don't know the next time I'd be returning," he spoke lowly. You wondered where he would be off to next as he pocketed the medication and nodded in agreement.

You motioned for him to sit in the designated area and prepared the necessary materials. As you walked over to the vaccine area now occupied by the large man, you positioned yourself to the side of him. You performed your typical routine of verifying the prescription and noting the necessary numbers before you felt the need to break the silence.

“You know, I used to be terrified of these as a child. I hope you didn’t have the same experience, Lieutenant,” you chuckled as you began to clean his bicep. You admired the tattoo on his right arm, so intricate and beautiful.

“I’ve had much worse, trust me,” he replied and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. Well, I guess the man of few words has a sense of humor.

“That’s good to hear! You wouldn’t imagine the number of recruits that squirm even before I’ve begun to prep their arm. I thought all that training taught you guys to be tough.” With this, you both laughed and you began to position your hand ensuring the needle was going into the proper area.

You felt him slightly tense under your touch but you gave him a reassuring pat on the hand. You knew as a child that the best way was to finish the vaccine before they even had time to react.

“You can hold my hand if you’d like,” you joked, not realizing that he was pink under his mask. "Or you could be a good little soldier and I might give you a lolly" you continued further, teasing the man. He was so glad to have the safety of concealment as you were really rubbing it in. He waved you off with his other hand and you went about a quick administration.

“See that’s not so bad,” you smiled and you went to apply a bandage. Unfortunately, you realized you were out of your typical issued bandaids and quickly grabbed a colorful, neon star one.

He glanced down and responded with a low, “What the hell is that?”

“I’m sorry it’s the only one I have at the moment, but you should be able to take it off before bed tonight!” you apologized and you fastened it onto his strong bicep.

Little did you know that your small talk and neon bandage had endeared you to the Lieutenant. Your reassuring touch and soft actions made him believe you’d be a better fit for a position in pediatrics than here. Although he would have to explain the ridiculous stars, he found himself wanting to get all of his vaccines from you.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

first time writing and posting here in like forever! hope you enjoyed this mw2 content :)

[artistsonthelam]

TBT to the late 00s when I was an undergrad at Columbia. It was a time when political activism and student protests saw a renaissance on campus; every year, for all 4 years I attended, there were protests—a resurgence of the spirit of '68. (I remember a meme going around comparing Ivy League schools with "How many students does it take to change a lightbulb at <insert Ivy here>?" The one for Columbia went something like "61. 1 to change the lightbulb, 30 to protest it, and 30 to counter-protest." I couldn't be more pleased, especially since the stereotypes for other Ivies were far less flattering.)

In 2007, then-President of the university Lee C. Bollinger, who was also a Free Speech scholar, invited then-President of Iran Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to speak on campus. There were protests against Ahmadinejad's arrival, and there were counter-protests, the latter calling out George W. Bush and US imperialism and upholding an anti-war message. Here are some photos I took the day of the event:

1 - Counter-protesters

3 - Protesters

4 - Students watching the event

5 - Flyers from protesters and counter-protesters

6 - Media outside the gates on Broadway

That same semester, there was a student hunger strike, calling for a reform of the Core Curriculum and expansion of the Ethnic Studies program and protesting the university's gentrification of Harlem. (I didn't take photos; this time I personally knew the protesters.) Students camped out in tents on the Lawn. And you know what? They weren't evicted. They weren't suspended. The cops weren't called. In fact, the university administration negotiated with them and agreed to meet some of their demands—the strikers won a new Major Cultures seminar requirement as part of the Core.

In 2008, on a panel commemorating the 40th anniversary of the 1968 uprising, Bollinger said, “You simply do not bring police onto a campus. All the assurances in the world cannot be kept” that police presence on campus will not result in violence.

Etc.

To the current student protestors, you are continuing Columbia tradition, and I am proud of CU students for sparking a nationwide movement. (The occupation of Hamilton Hall also harkens back to '68, when students seized control of the building to protest the Vietnam War and the proposal of a gymnasium in Morningside Park with separate entrances for students vs. the community. The spirit lives on indeed.)

To the current administration under Minouche Shafik... Sending in an armed and militarized NYPD as a response to kids peacefully protesting? How does that keep anyone safe? I can't imagine Bollinger would've been OK with how you're handling the situation. We alumni are watching.

// (c) Jenny Lam 2007

[janeyseymour]

personal and professional 1-3 was soooooo good it gave me an idea!

a mel x work crush reader story in which cute shy fem reader has a sleeper build. usually wearing regular lose fit clothing until one day they have to wear a fancy skirt and heels bringing attention to readers muscular legs. abbott crew starts asking reader questions about her workout routine leading a jealous melissa to make a snarky comment about reader skipping arm day to which reader says something like don’t let the outfit fool you i could bench you right now heels and all. melissa keeps pushing readers buttons until reader grabs melissa and starts overhead pressing with absolutely no issue to prove their point leaving melissa stunned. idk maybe it ends with melissa asking reader on a date that day after school?

Press You (Up Against a Wall)

WC: 3.3k

You were hired as the long term substitute gym teacher at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School in January, but when the teacher who was out on maternity leave decided to leave the position permanently- that she can’t even believe she stayed there throughout her pregnancy in the first place- you were brought on for the full-time position. So, now you’re Abbott’s official gym teacher, and you couldn’t be more thrilled.

Really, any physical education teacher position is a score in your mind because showing up to school in sweatpants or joggers everyday is any teacher’s dream come true. But Abbott is so nice because you can pretty much do whatever you want with the kids- including dodgeball, which is banned at most schools. 

Under all of your gym clothes, you have a nice body- you’ll be the first one to admit that. Working out six days a week along with having a well balanced diet doesn’t go to waste. None of the teachers, or Ava for that matter, know that you’re a bit of a gym rat- okay, a really big gym rat. Sure, they know you’re athletic and that you’re slim, but they haven’t seen your legs- probably the best part about your body. You’re thankful for that because up until now, you’ve evaded the principal’s flirtatious personality and comments. 

The only person who knows how in shape you are is Mr. Johnson because you help him move things or fix things when necessary. He’s immensely grateful and has promised to keep your hidden figure a secret- he knows how you don’t want to be hit on like Gregory is.

But now, you’re being forced to go to PECSA, and you really don’t know why you have to go, but the school is paying for your hotel room, and you don’t have to attend any of the seminars based on curriculum because you don’t teach any of the core subjects (you had thoughts on that title… physical education was one of the most important for those kids to be participating in if they wanted to grow to be strong and healthy adults).

So while everyone else is supposed to be at their seminars, you sleep in before heading down to the gym to get your daily workout in.

After you’re finished, you head back up to your hotel room and shower before changing into an old band t-shirt, a light sweatshirt, and a pair of joggers. Deciding that you have enough time to explore and just soak everything in, you exit your hotel room.

As you go to back away from your door, so is Melissa Schemmenti- donned in a bathing suit as opposed to the clothes that she should be clad in to attend different seminars.

“Hey, Schemmenti,” you look her up and down. 

“Y/N,” Melissa looks you up and down too. “Don’t tell anyone, but Barb ’n’ I haven’t gone to a single one of those dumb jawns. All for the newbies.”

You mime zipping your lips before letting out a chuckle. “You’ll be at the big party though, right?”

“Hell yeah I will be. I have a math-o-rita chugging champion title to maintain,” she smirks.

“Good. I don’t think I could survive the Abbott crew without you to keep me company,” you blush as you tell her that. “Not that I don’t like the others, but… you know what I mean.”

“I gotchu,” she smiles. “Just stick with me and Barb, and you’ll be fine.”

You nod. “You mind if I join you now?”

“If you can get changed in the next few-”

“Nah, I don’t wanna swim, I just wanna relax in the presence of others,” you lie a little. You really just want to be in her presence.

You and her meet the kindergarten teacher down by the pool, and Barb’s eyes widen just slightly when she sees that Melissa brought you.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she still greets you kindly. “Decided to ditch the seminars?”

“I don’t have to go to most of them,” you laugh softly as you tuck a hair behind your ear. “Just the ones that have to do with PBIS and all of that. Other than that, I’ve just been kind of wandering. Saw Melissa, and I tagged along.”

“And she didn’t tell you to beat it?” Barbara raises a brow.

Melissa shrugs. “She looked like a lost puppy dog, so I took her under my wing.”

Little do you or Barbara know, she has had quite the thing for you since you first walked into the building and greeted her while she was bringing her kids down to special. And then when you spoke to her so shyly, but then she could hear you command the gymnasium to gain control of her class- it really struck a chord with her, and she was taken with you. She would never tell you that, and actually was a bit tougher on you than she was with others, but you have her figured out. She seems to be a bit tougher on those she likes rather than just ignore the ones who she tolerates or just genuinely doesn’t enjoy the presence of. 

“I can go if-”

“You’re with us now. Don’t be an idiot,” Melissa rolls her eyes. 

You bite your bottom lip nervously. “Okay, okay.”

You relax in the lounge chair next to her, and you have to admit it’s a little warmer than you were anticipating it being in here (foolishly… it’s an indoor pool area, what we’re you expecting?). So you shrug off your jacket, tie your hair up, and hike your sweatpants up to your knees.

If Barbara and Melissa notice your calves, they don’t say anything.

You end up falling asleep with your arms protectively wrapped around yourself, and you don’t wake until you feel someone gently shaking you.

“Hun, it’s time to get up.” You jolt awake, clearly terrified as your eyes go wide and your breathing gets deeper for a second. But then you look up, and there’s… well, there’s Melissa’s cleavage in your face, and then a bit further up are her emerald eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s ‘kay,” you mumble as you yawn and stretch a bit. “Sorry I fell asleep on youse.”

“Aye, no problem at all,” she smiles down at you. “Just didn’t wanna leave you down here to think Barb and I abandoned ship, but we’re gonna start getting ready for the party.”

“I guess I should too,” you sigh softly as you stand.

You and the redhead head up to your rooms and start to get ready.

It doesn’t take you long to get ready. You really just throw on the dress you brought- one that accentuates your legs- before applying a light amount of makeup. You run your fingers through your hair as you glance in the mirror. You look good. Deciding that you would rather not kill your feet just yet though, you wait to put on your heels.

A bit later, you hear a knock on your door as you’re laying in bed and scrolling through Instagram. You stand and make your way to the door before looking out the peephole. It’s Melissa, and she looks… stunning. Her hair is in big curls, and she has a beautiful green dress on that only makes her eyes pop even more.

“Hey,” you breathe out softly. “You look… wow.”

She gives you a once over. “I could say the same things about you.”

Your cheeks turn red at her compliment and her lingering eyes on your body.

“You ready? I want a math-o-rita in my hand, and the lines will get ridiculous later on,” she tells you. “And this way we can save a table for our group.”

“Y-yeah,” you say softly as you continue to stare at her. “Just let me put on my shoes.”

She nods as she leans against the doorframe and watches. Then, you give her a nod, make sure you have your lipgloss and keycard, and head out.

When you get down there, she immediately heads towards the bar and quickly returns with two drinks in hand. She hands one to you, and the two of you clink your glasses together. You take a nice swig of it in hopes of relaxing. By the time the rest of your group joins you, both of you are on your second drink.

“You two are here early,” Barbara notes as she looks between the two of you. “Are we interrupting something?”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “We got here a little early to get a table.”

“You both look so nice!” Janine grins from next to her work mother.

You smile at her politely. “You as well.”

“I never really took you for a gym rat, although I suppose I should’ve,” Gregory chuckles. “Damn.”

“Seriously,” Jacob eyes you. “In the most gay way possible, I am looking respectfully.”

“What’s your workout routine?” Gregory asks you.

Happy to talk about anything other than work, you begin to list off the various leg exercises you do. Almost everyone is hanging onto your every word. At least that’s what it looks like. They’re all looking at you like you’re a star- all except the one you want to be looking at you: Melissa. She instead picking at her nails and sipping at her drink. The truth of it is, she is also listening to every word, and she’s beginning to get jealous of the way that everyone is ogling you and your legs. She doesn’t want that to show.

When you’re finished, she bites back a laugh. “Guess we skip arm days?”

“Don’t let the outfit fool you,” you chuckle. “My arms may look small, but they’re defined.”

“Compared to your legs,” she rolls her eyes.

“I could bench you,” you laugh back. “Heels and all.”

“Now that is something that I would love to see,” Barbara chuckles. She ignores the death glare your redheaded coworker sends her way.

“You will not,” Melissa states. “Not in this dress.”

“Maybe I’ll just do some bicep curls with you in my arms then,” you challenge her.

“I doubt you could,” she bites out. “Not with those chicken arms.”

You roll your eyes. “One of these days, you’ll see.”

“Sure I will.”

She continues to push your buttons throughout the night, and with the alcohol that you’ve taken in, she teases you.

“Couldn’t press me now, could you?”

“I could press you up against a wall,” you flirt shamelessly, liquid courage acting as your friend.

Her cheeks turn a violent shade of pink, and you grin.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you smirk. “I meant that I could squat against the wall and lift you up over my head.”

“That is not what you meant, and you know it,” she scolds you.

You shrug your shoulders innocently. “You’ll never know what I meant, now will you?”

After another round of drinks, she’s still teasing you. You finally decide that you want to put her incessant comments to and end. So, you sweep her off of her feet, heels and all. You make sure that her dress is appropriate before doing a few bicep curls with her in your arms.

She’s stunned, to say the least.

And then, with one little jerk, she’s up over your head. You bring her back down to your arms and hold her there.

“You ready to shut up yet?” you tease her, looking down at her lips.

Her eyes are wide and clearly impressed. She can’t even find the words right now.

“You ready?” you ask again.

She just nods her head, and you set her back down on her feet. You keep an arm around her until she’s found her footing again.

“That was really hot,” Jacob states. You jump slightly, not realizing he was there. “In the least creepy way possible. I had no idea you were that strong.”

“Most people don’t,” you chuckle as you down the rest of your drink. You wink at Melissa as you make your way over to the bar. “I got the next round. Another math-o-rita?”

She nods again as she makes her way back to your table. Barbara is sitting there with a smirk. “She put on quite the show.”

The redhead’s eyes linger on you as you stand at the bar and try to get the attention of the bartender. “Yeah,” she hums noncommittally.

“Girl, when are you just going to ask her out?” the kindergarten teacher asks.

That pulls Melissa out of her trance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve seen the way you stare at her and the pep in your step when your kids have gym,” Barbara snorts. “Even in just her joggers and Abbott sweatshirt. You like her.”

“I mean, yeah… she’s a nice woman,” the second grade teacher tries to brush off her friend’s assumption.

“No, you like her.”

“So what if I do?” Melissa asks as she folds her arms over her chest. “There ain’t no way she would ever like me back.”

“She’s been practically drooling over you since she saw you in your swimsuit earlier today, and she’s currently buying you a drink,” Barbara laughs.

“We’ve bought each other drinks before.”

“But I don’t drool over you in a bathing suit, and I know you don’t drool over me,” the kindergarten teacher snorts. “Just ask her out.”

“Maybe when I’m sober,” Melissa rolls her eyes. 

You start to make your way back over, and the redhead can’t help the way that she watches your hips sway.

“You’re drooling,” Barbara nudges her friend.

“Shut up,” Melissa laughs. She takes the drink that you offer her with a grin. The two of you raise your glasses in a toast before you link arms and chug.

You wipe the liquid that had made its way around your mouth with a chuckle. “Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll still be able to lift ya, no problem.”

You wrap your arm around her waist and squeeze her hip gently, the liquid courage once again taking over.

She blushes, but she quickly gets swept away by Derek, challenging her to yet another math-o-rita chugging challenge.

That leaves you and Barbara sitting at the table together.

“So,” the kindergarten teacher nudges you. “When are you gonna make a move on that redhead you were curling earlier?”

You raise a brow. “What do you mean?”

“When are you gonna ask her out? I heard you tell her you could press her up against a wall, and you and I both know you didn’t mean that in an innocent way,” she chuckles.

You shrug. “Maybe when I’m positive she likes me. I ain’t about to make a fool out of myself and then have to work with her.”

“I think she made it pretty clear she likes you with the way she’s been practically undressing you with her eyes all night,” the kindergarten teacher tells you. 

You laugh. “No she hasn’t.” When she raises a brow and hits you with the trademarked Barbara Howard look, you sigh. “Okay, maybe when we’re both sober… if I can ever work up the nerve.”

“Just give it some thought, sweetheart,” Barb tells you. “Melissa… she’s a tough cookie, but she’s got the biggest heart I know of, and as much as she tries not to, she wears it on her sleeve.”

You nod thoughtfully before smiling. “You think she’d say yes to a date with me?”

“No question,” your colleague tells you.

You think on it for a second, and you go to speak again- to tell Barbara that you might just ask her tonight- when you hear Melissa loudly calling your name.

“Hun! I need a cheerleader so I can absolutely kick Derek’s ass again!”

You look over in her direction and raise a brow, questionably.

“Please, babe!”

Oh, you know she’s so drunk. You can’t ask her out on a date, a serious one, when she’s as hammered as she is. You roll your eyes playfully but saunter over.

She slings an arm around your waist before she gets another drink. Without any hesitation, she chugs the entirety of it before Derek can finish even half of his. You’re impressed to say the least. After she slams down the empty glass to prove she’s finished, she kisses your cheek in celebration.

Not that either of you know it, but Barbara has a video of it.

It’s a bit longer before the two of you finally decide to retire to your rooms for the night… you’re both quite a bit intoxicated, and the redhead practically hangs off of you as you help her down the hall.

Of course, when you go to turn to your own room, she grabs your arm. “Come in?”

“Yeah, I can,” you tell her gently. “Just let me change, and I’ll be over.”

She gives you her best puppy dog eyes, but you insist. “Mel, I really don’t want to be in this dress longer than I have to be.”

“But you look… stunning.”

“While I appreciate the compliment, I would like to get comfortable.”

She relents and turns into her own room. When you knock on her door again, she’s still in her dress though, with the sweetest frown on her face.

“I can’t get out of this,” she tells you. “Stupid zipper.”

You enter her room before spinning her around gently. You unzip it with ease.

“Jeez, take me out on a date before you start undressing me,” she quips teasingly.

You see the opportunity in front of you, and you take it. “How about tomorrow at seven?”

“Only if you show up with those legs out again,” she flirts back.

“It’s a date.”

The two of you spend a few hours chatting and having a few more drinks in her room- beers she brought with her to pre-game before your really do head back to your room to get some much needed sleep.

As you pull the blankets around you, you smile to yourself. You know that she isn’t going to remember you asked her out tonight, but you think that you have the courage to do it again sober now.

The next morning comes, and Melissa comes out of her room with her hood up, sunglasses over her eyes, and she’s drinking Pedialyte through a straw as she wheels her luggage out.

You roll your eyes at her fondly. “Hey there,” you greet her, entirely too perky for her liking at this hour and in her state.

“How are you not dying?” she asks.

You smirk. “I didn’t have a chugging challenge with Derek last night.”

“Eh, worth it to keep my title,” she shrugs.

“You better rally for tonight. You have a date.”

“What?” she lowers her sunglasses so you can see the shock in her eyes.

You smirk. “You have a date… with me.”

The smiles that she breaks out into could light up all of Philly alone. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

With that, you leave her to continue to nurse the hangover for the car ride home with Barbara as you race off to check out of the hotel and head home. You have a date to plan.

Melissa waits down in the lobby for Barbara to finish packing up her weekend bags. When the kindergarten teacher comes over, the redhead, although clearly hungover, is deep in her own thoughts. 

“What’s got you looking like smoke is about to come out of your head this early in the morning?”

“I have a date with Y/N tonight.”

“About damn time,” Barbara smiles. “Let’s get you home so you can nurse that hangover and be ready for her.”

[dovesdreaming]

Hi, Dove! Could you, please, write some Todd Anderson fluff? ♥ Maybe something about sunshine!female reader, she's also kinda shy, but not quite like Todd. She's really academically gifted, writes poems, but is unsure of herself. They know each other from school, but have never really spoken before, and then they accidentally run into each other during free period at the woods (where they like to spend some time alone and just read or write) and they bond.

It doesn't have to be about this, just any Todd fluff would be great! There is not enough dps content out here

𖤓She’s like being bathed in sunlight𖤓

I LOVED THIS REQUEST!!!! it was perfect. I loved Todd so much and I find him so relatable. This type of reader is my favourite to write aswell!!! Please send more Dps requests people I love them! Hope you enjoy <3

Note: Thank you so much for 100 followers ♥️😘🥰

Word count: 1k

Warnings: none

Welton had recently allowed girls to attend and your parents being the stuck up people they are, wanted their daughter to attend the best school possible. It hadn’t been so bad, you had made a few friends with the other girls who had started attending and some of the boys who you found the most tolerable. You found making friends hard at the best of times but being somewhere like Welton made it that much harder.

You found your favourite lesson to be English and it wasn’t necessarily because of the subject but more so the teacher. Mr keating managed to make even the most boring parts of the curriculum exciting. Before him you found poetry to be a wasted subject on yourself yet mr keating had turned you into a poet. He brought the writer out of you and showed you just how fun it could be. A subject you used to hate had turned into a hobby of yours, you found yourself writing down poetry and inspiration for poems all the time. Your poems had recently taken a more romantic turn as you had found a muse.

It started when mr keating drew the whole classes attention to a boy who sat in the top corner of the class, usually just out of sight from you, blocked by many students heads. He had encouraged the boy to read aloud a poem from the top of his head. You had never taken note of him before yet him and his poem entranced you. It tugged a core deep inside you that ‘the truth is a blanket that always left your feet cold’. He became the subject from all your poems then on. You always kept your feelings to your self in your notebook, never being sure of yourself enough to ever act on your feelings.

You didn’t know much about him apart from that he hung out with Neil, someone you spoke to occasionally to compare homework answers with. You wrote about how he made you feel. Your favourite spot to write poetry was just on the outskirts of the woods. There was a big willow tree back from the edge of the lake that provided shelter from direct sun yet still allowed it to feel like a summers day. You sat down in your usual spot and let your eyes rest on the moving water to think of your next poem.

Unbeknownst to you todd had knew about you since your first day of attendance. How could he not notice you, you were like a sunray leaving warmth and happiness everywhere you went. He admired you from afar and noticed how many people were attracted to your presence like people wanted to bathe in your light. What really caught his eye though was your smile. He had never seen one as bright and beautiful as yours.

His friends had quickly caught on to his gazing at you and they teased him relentlessly. They made sure to encourage him to speak to you aswell but Todd could never do that. He couldn’t, you were well.. you. You would never go for someone like him. So instead he wrote his feelings into his notebook and carried it everywhere for when inspiration may strike.

His favourite spot to write poetry was down by the lake. There was a tree on the edge of the wood line just set back from the water. He found no one disturbed him there and he could let his mind wander.

Today was like any other Saturday for you. You were heading down to your spot to write some poetry yet when you wandered towards the tree you noticed a figure already sitting in your spot. You froze with slight shock, no one ever came down here. You slowly stepped towards the tree, curious as to who had found your spot. You found no other than your muse. You stepped backwards to try and turn away before he could see you, you weren’t ready to face him yet. However you stepped on a branch which made quite a loud crack for its size. You cursed whoever wasn’t on your side today as you knew todd was now looking at you. You quickly threw on your best smile and reapproached him, trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating and how your palms clammed up. He looked like a deer caught in headlights which slightly calmed your nerves, you didn’t want him to feel like that around you. To try and calm both your nerves you tried to break the tension that built by greeting him “I hope I’m not interrupting the sweaty toothed madman’s writing but this is usually where I write as well. Do you mind if I join you?”. You regretted your attempt at humour and cringed internally yet Todd didn’t seem to notice still a bit frozen in place, he just about mustered a nod and with that you tentatively sat down next to him. For awhile you sat together in silence until you turned to him with a rush of adrenaline to try to get to know him. He was hesitant to talk and mumbled and tripped over his words but you were patient and never interrupted him. You listened to everything he had to say and Todd was grateful for it even if he couldn’t say it out loud. You spoke about poems and your favourite poets. You enjoyed his company and he enjoyed yours, he could feel himself relaxing around you something that was rare for him to do at Welton. You parted ways when it grew darker and he found himself craving your presence. You both longed to see each other again yet didn’t know if it would ever occur again, both still too afraid to make the move.

However when the next Saturday rolled around and you approached your spot again to find a figure already there you knew you wouldn’t ever have to worry about missing Todd’s presence again.

Yet as many Saturdays passed and you grew closer, neither of you realised the love you both shared for each other. As you both sat under the tree writing poetry about your muses who were sat right next to each other, you both remained clueless and would do for many more Saturdays until you finally read your poetry aloud to each other and discovered many similarities in the muses of the poems.

Thank you for reading! <3

[gaypuppiboi2]

In the late 21st century, the world underwent a dramatic shift as the Arab world, fueled by a powerful resurgence in cultural, economic, and political influence, began to shape the global landscape in an unprecedented process of Arabization. This was not a conquest by force, but rather a sweeping cultural and intellectual movement that redefined the global order, spreading Arab values, language, and traditions across continents.

### The Rise of the Arab World

The foundation for this global Arabization was laid during a period of rapid transformation in the Arab world, often referred to as the Second Arab Renaissance. This era was marked by significant advancements in technology, renewable energy, education, and governance, positioning the region as a leader in the post-industrial world.

Oil wealth, once the cornerstone of the Arab economy, was strategically reinvested into sectors such as clean energy, technology, and education. The Gulf states, in particular, became hubs for innovation and global finance, attracting talent and investment from around the world. As the Arab world modernized, it also began to export its culture, language, and values, using soft power to extend its influence far beyond its traditional borders.

### Cultural Influence and Language Expansion

Arabic, which had long been a language of religious and literary significance, began to gain prominence as a global language of commerce, science, and diplomacy. The spread of Arabic was driven by the region’s economic clout, with Arabic becoming a required language in international business, diplomacy, and academia. Leading universities around the world introduced Arabic as a core part of their curriculum, and Arabic-language media became dominant sources of news and entertainment.

The cultural influence of the Arab world extended into everyday life. Islamic architecture, art, and fashion gained widespread popularity, influencing global design trends. Traditional Arab music and cuisine also became staples in cities around the world, with fusion genres and dishes integrating into the global mainstream. Festivals celebrating Arab culture began to spring up across major global cities, attended by millions who embraced the rich traditions of the Arab world.

### The Global Spread of Islamic Values

Parallel to the cultural influence was the rise of Islamic values and ethics in global governance and societal norms. The emphasis on community, charity, and social justice inherent in Islamic teachings resonated with populations worldwide, especially in regions facing economic disparity and social unrest. As a result, many nations began to adopt aspects of Sharia-inspired legal frameworks, particularly in areas related to finance, family law, and social welfare.

The global financial system saw a shift towards Islamic banking, which emphasizes ethical investments and the prohibition of interest. This model attracted countries seeking more sustainable and equitable financial systems, leading to the widespread adoption of Islamic finance principles across Europe, Asia, and Africa.

### The Arab World as a Global Leader

As the Arabization of the world progressed, the Arab world took on a leadership role in global institutions. Organizations like the United Nations and the World Bank saw a significant increase in Arab leadership and influence. The Arab League, once focused primarily on regional issues, evolved into a powerful global alliance that set the agenda on key international issues, from climate change to global trade.

The political model of the Arab world, blending aspects of traditional governance with modern democracy, became a blueprint for nations seeking stability and prosperity. This hybrid model emphasized the role of wise leadership, community consultation, and religious guidance, offering an alternative to Western-style democracy that appealed to many countries, particularly in the Global South.

### Resistance and Integration

The Arabization of the world was not without its challenges. In some regions, there was resistance to the spread of Arabic language and Islamic values, driven by concerns over cultural homogenization and the erosion of local traditions. However, the Arab world, through a combination of diplomacy, economic incentives, and cultural exchange, was largely successful in addressing these concerns.

Integration into the Arabized global order often involved a blending of local and Arab cultures, creating new, hybrid identities that celebrated diversity while acknowledging the influence of Arab civilization. This cultural synthesis became a hallmark of the 22nd century, leading to a more interconnected and culturally rich global society.

### A New World Order

By the end of the 22nd century, the Arab world had succeeded in Arabizing much of the globe, not through conquest, but through the power of its culture, language, and ideas. The world had become a place where Arabic was spoken in boardrooms and classrooms from New York to Tokyo, where Islamic values shaped the ethical foundations of society, and where the architectural, artistic, and culinary traditions of the Arab world were celebrated as global heritage.

This new world order, shaped by the principles of the Arab Renaissance, was one of cultural exchange, mutual respect, and shared prosperity. The Arabization of the world had not erased other cultures, but rather enriched them, creating a global civilization that drew strength from its diverse roots and its shared future.

[yams-here]

So I like thinking about franchises that disappointed me in some way

and after watching too many reviews I redesigned the High guardian spice characters (and thought of how the plot could work way too much)

Rose in this version isn't a complete idiot, and may not be so book smart, but she is very good in combat because she's kind of a fangirl. Like, "she studies attacks and can probably name pretty much every guardian" fangirling. While she is still kind of a dumbass, she's the one that always brings Sage down to earth whenever she gets too stressed. Although she is mostly the source of that stress. Her mom was taken by the rot, but she isn't really sure what it is, so when Thyme mentions it devastating her home she's like "!" so they can actually have something that might bring them together. She decides to take on forging and weapon enchantments so she can have a moment where she steps out of her mom's shadow to do her own thing teehee Sage here is still kind of an ass (her sexist discourse to snap was NOT a Girlboss Moment) but here I think it would be interesting if it was something that other characters think its weird too. Like its a belief ingrained into her together with the more traditional upbringing by her family (thus her only knowing old magic) so it can be part of her character development learning how those thoughts should be changed and that not everyone thinks like that, But she still tries her best to be respectful and kind. (also, her parents sent her to the academy because new magic is VERY new, so the fact that it was being implemented in the curriculum was not widespread, specially in a small town like where she was raised in.) she's an overthinker to the core, so sometimes she needs her friends to calm her down, although sometimes that anxiety is what prepares them for something they weren't even expecting.

Parsley is honestly well written enough in the original show, so the only things I would change is that the progress with the conflict with her parents is stretched a little through episodes, and the conflict is that while her parents want her to be a blacksmith and take on the family business (and help take care of her three thousand simblings) she wishes to go out and do something for herself as a warrior, because she wanting to go to school to become a blacksmith and her parents fighting her on it because they want her to become a blacksmith is kinda dumb. also her short ass hammer feels so weird to watch in the series, so I think that a longer handle would make it a little better. also tiny irony of her weapon being taller than her. Thyme feels like she should be written better because shes the only one that actually has any correlation to the plot, but she kind of... isn't?? I like her backstory of being ran out of the woods she lived in because the rot was devastating it and her dad staying behind to try to solve it, but I think it would be more dramatic if her dad was killed in the conflict but she doesn't know so dramatic moment when she finds something that belonged to him (maybe a little charm she made? for protection? in the way children do that stuff for their parents) and she connects the dots. Also the rot here is because the overuse of the power new magic is able to draw out without the control of old magic is taking too much energy from the earth, and woodsy areas thrive on it, thus the root like structures of the rot. The trees are basically oysters for the magic energy of the world. When its bad, they turn bad too. Also make her more of a "expresses affection through favors and actions, not words" person. She, Rose and Sage took wayy too long to become friends. Amaryllis stays the same because she is perfect and I love her and if you disagree to talk to the wall I personally think Snapdragon is good too but I would make him genderfluid instead. I think that the idea of Caraway THINKING he might be a trans girl but that ending up not the correct answer would reinforce his "there's always more options than you think" speech. And someone needs to point out how he's drawn to women that scream at him. Also we need a better arc with his dad instead of the raw carrot that was the canonical "his dad reinforces toxic masculinity hurr durr" thing we got (that wasn't even well made btw) NOW TO THE SIDIES

Slime boy is now named Slime boy because of an accident he had in potions class the previous year (he's one year older than the main cast) which caused him to continuously produce a slime like substance instead of stuff like spit and sweat. It doesn't inconvenience him a lot other than him making bubbles when he speaks every now and then. He's just an assistant in the terrasphere shop, and the owners are Alloe and Anise (wow they actually do something else in the story!!) but he's mainly just a more experienced student that sometimes knows things the main cast doesn't like secret entrances and cool rooms and stuff. He's a full on bard because that was barely explored in canon and music based attacks are cool. He has the tiniest little crush on parnelle cuz I thought that would be fun Parnelle is ENBY because I SAID SO (and cuz cal is stablished as transphobic and I like payoffs) and since whatever they're doing at the academy is never really clarified, I made them kind of an animal whisperer, like they call on animals to assist them in battle and other stuff. (Maybe then we actually get to see the trixies again after their prolongued mating dance that lead to literally nothing in episode 1) being an animal whisperer is a very rare "old magic" hability thus why they entered the academy one year earlier than expected. They sew their own clothes and are still the generally weird little guy they are in canon, except this time its explained as them preferring to communicate with animals ever since they were a child. They are still very polite and friendly tho, always happy to help. Cal is (his full name is calamagrostis and like if I was named that I'd be an asshole too) still parnelle's cousin, but he doesn't outright bullies them. in fact, he isn't an outright bully, he just tends to look down on other people that don't follow what he believes in, which is a more traditional view on the world, kind of like sage, so I thought of him maybe being a catalyst to her being like "wow I can see why my way of thinking may be bad now, I don't want to be like him" which pushes her to grow and stuff. And I want him to grow as well, so I thought, maybe he and Snapdragon used to be friends, but recently they drifted apart and he started to kind of resent him after he came out as genderfluid, but deep down he still misses his friend, so maybe that pushes his character development. And other people saying that hes kind of a prick. idk I just really hate the trope of a bully character just being there to be the mc's punching bag instead of getting development.

In general, the lore would be (I think, I'm not the best at lore) that Guardians are generally like soldiers, but in a more captain america type of way. they're more like beacons of hope and symbols or power and peace than soldiers are, (thus rosemary knowing a bunch of them as they're usually famous) but they are still required to know combat. High Guardian Academy is known as a guarantee to become a good soldier, and a high chance to become a guardian. They VERY recently implemented new magic in the curriculum, but are experimenting with mixing its high power output with old magic's control of it, (thus why caraway knows how but why none of the students are being thaught it. It's a fairly new tecnique they'd rather get a good grasp on before teaching a bunch of children how to use it) because since they're expertly trained guardians they can tell that a terrasphere takes too much energy above what would be considered okay. They just aren't aware of how much tho, the extent of the rot is a secret held close to their chests by witch country, which is where the terraspheres come from, which has brought them tons of profit and advancements. So when someone knows about the extent, or tries to stop it, they are eliminated, (thus why thyme's dad died. People that stayed in the fairy woods and knew how bad new magic could be were all "silenced" so they could keep profiting out of it.) (Any letters or research about the rot, or from the people that knew, were burned and interfered with, thats why no one else knew about it.) idk what else to talk about cuz this show had such little things to explore but there's so much filler that almost none of it got explored but I think it had potential, even if I prefer to focus on character interactions and how they change eachother. Again, I'm not very good with lore. and plot.

[racefortheironthrone]

I understand that knights normally followed a fairly set career path: start as a page, get taken on as a squire, and then if they merit it and have resources, knighthood. How did it work for other classes of soldier? How would one go about becoming say, a man at arms, or a specialist like a long bowman or a crossbowman or a pikeman for example?

Ah, excellent question!

One preliminary thing, you do have to be mindful of the distinction between actual training and social organization. Let's take your "career path" for knights, for example - at its heart, the whole page/squire thing was essentially a two-stage apprenticeship, but there was both a mix of actual martial training (I'll get into the curriculum in a bit) and what we would think of as socialization into the noble class - things like music, dancing, literacy, manners, and so forth aren't really directly related to the job of an armored heavy cavalryman, after all.

Importantly, when it comes to the distinction between various ranks, we have to keep in mind the importance of both material resources and sociocultural status. As you note, the difference between a squire and a knight was really about whether the squire could afford the full complement of arms, armor, and a horse, and there were more than a few grown men who were squires their whole lives (this is the inspiration for characters like Squire Dalbridge) because they just didn't have the money to advance to knighthood.

At the same time, the difference between a knight and a man-at-arms came down to social class - in order to be a man-at-arms, you had to have the same training as a knight and own the same equipment (arms, armor, and horse), which is why a lot of the written sources simply call all such men men-at-arms whether they were knights or not - although some sources took more pains to distinguish between the milites gregarii (the plain man-at-arms) and the milites nobiles (which, as you probably have guessed, refers to actual knights).

The former tended to be from the gentry rather than the nobility, and as a result of their lower status, they were usually paid half the wage rate of knights despite doing the same work and taking on the significant risk of providing their own equipment. (The fact that they were cheaper also explains why the proportion of actual knights on the campaign rolls dropped rather rapidly between the 13th and 14th centuries - knights were more expensive, so hiring men-at-arms instead meant you could stretch the budget for heavy cavalry.)

The Knightly Curriculum

As I suggested above, the training for knights was essentially an apprentice system where the page and then the squire provided service to their master in exchange for education. When it comes to the actual content of this training, the curriculum was actually pretty ecletic:

As you might expect, training in arms was an important part of the program. However, this training included a lot more than just swordsmanship. While the sword was very culturally important, when it came to the actual military function of a heavy cavalryman, the lance was arguably of greater importance. Training also tended to include other sidearms - axes, maces, and the like. In later periods, as armor got a lot better and mounted frontal charges tended to be de-emphasized in favor of having men-at-arms fight as dismounted heavy infantry, the curriculum expanded to include new weapons like the poleaxe and other polearms that Gary Gygax was obsessed with.

Training in horsesmanship was also a core part of the curriculum. GRRM is not wrong when he says that "jousting was three-quarters horesemanship," and this is why pages and squires were not only taught formal equestrian lessons, but were also taught how to hawk and hunt as part of their training. Hawking and hunting were the past-times of the nobility in no small part because they involved riding horses very fast through difficult terrain while simultaneously handling either a dangerous animal or weaponry, and were thus were considered good training for future cavalrymen. As Hillary Mantel puts it, "la chasse...we usually say, we gentlemen, that the chase prepares us for war."

Training in armor tends to get downplayed or overlooked, but it was considered so important that a major portion of what pages and squires did was deal with armor - carrying it, maintaining it (scrubbing with abrasives to prevent rust, oiling the straps to keep the leather straps supple, polishing - it was really endless labor), repairing it, putting it on their master and taking it off, and so on and so forth - so that they would understand every step of the process and be able to fend for themselves later on if they didn't have attendants of their own. The famous French knight, Jean "Boucicaut" le Maingre, was held up as an example to pages and squires for constantly wearing full armor while undertaking exercise:

What About the Man-at-Arms?

As you may have noticed, I've been mostly talking about how knights trained rather than men-at-arms. So how did your gentry-born homme d'armes train? Essentially the same as a knight, but with less of the aristocratic bells and whistles of ritualized service and socialization to the nobility. So a son of the gentry would probably be training under the tutelage of their father or other male relative - and given that we're talking about a society in which the overwhelming majority of people did the same jobs as their parents, often being legally bound to do so, this was a very common phenomenon all the way from peasants upwards - or perhaps from a professional tutor who would most likely be a veteran in working retirement.

Towards the later Middle Ages, as literacy rates increased and book production expanded to match supply to demand, your more traditional systems of apprenticeship and one-on-one tutoring became supplemented with written manuals of arms. While this genre of military literature goes all the way back to classical antiquity - and indeed, Roman manuals like De re militari were very popular in the Middle Ages, as were translations of Byzantine manuals - these lavishly illustrated manuscripts were both practical teaching tools and status objects for the families who owned them.

Specialists: Longbowmen, Crossbowmen, and Pikemen

Ok, enough about the upper classes, what about the commoners who served as specialist infantry in Medieval and Renaissance armies?

Well, I've already written a bit about longbow training, but the gist of it is that what started out as a (Welsh) hunting tool was recognized by the English royal government as a vital aspect of military readiness, so laws were promulgated that required essentially all but the poorest to own a longbow and that "that every man in the same country, if he be able-bodied, shall, upon holidays, make use, in his games, of bows and arrows… and so learn and practise archery." This training started at a fairly early age and lasted at least a decade, because it involved both the acquisition of technique and the development of the body (not just the arms, but also crucially the back muscles, as the "special sauce" of the English longbowman was his ability to "lay my body in my bow" rather than relying solely on the arms) - such that archeologists can identify longbowmen from the over-development of the shoulder and arm bones.

What about crossbowmen? Well, as I've already written a bit about, one of the major advantages of the crossbow over the longbow is that you could train someone to be a crossbowman in as little as four months, compared to the decade at minimum for a longbowman, because most of what you were teaching them was accuracy in shooting (hence why the recruitment process often involved eye exams) and the procedures for loading and cocking the crossbow - which required a certain amount of physical strength to pull back the string to the nut that would hold it in place, or to work the winch or the lever or the gaffe or the windlass if you were using a heavier crossbow, but nothing like the physical conditioning required for a longbow.

One of the reasons why the term "Genoese" is so often associated with the crossbow is that the Republic of Genoa established a corps of crossbowmen to serve both in the army and as marines in the navy and these experienced soldiers in turn provided a ready supply of labor for mercenary companies. While the captains who recruited on behalf of the great companies might have to put in the up-front investment of equipment (the crossbow and its accessories, pavise shields, armor,and sidearms), they were able to essentially outsource the training costs to the Republic.

When it comes to training, pikemen were somewhere in the middle between the longbowman and the crossbowman. Because pikemen have to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with lots of other pikemen without stabbing one another accidentally or getting their polearms tangled up, coordinating movement and action was vitally important. Hence, pikemen learned a series of quite complicated drills to teach them how to move in formation in different directions, how to change formations from line to square and back, how to switch from pike to sidearm and back, how to work with missile infantry, and so forth.

As I've talked about before, a big part of the reason why Swiss pikemen were so feared on the battlefield is that, because they were very well-drilled and disciplined due to the policies of universal military service adopted by the Swiss cantons, they could execute these drills very quickly, which meant that the Swiss pikemen could turn on a dime from an impenetrable defensive pike square to a shockingly fast and aggressive deep column which beat the ever-loving shit out of the Burgundians, the Hapsburgs, the Italians, the French, and pretty much everyone - until the Swiss ran up against a nasty combination of the German Landsknecht and the Spanish tercio.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Music

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Useful for bards and priests, one assumes. I had to look up so many songs I'd never heard of to have a clue what half the comparisons were...

Musical education in the Realms (plus what the core Colleges (Lore and Valor) translate to in the Realms (where they aren't called that))

Musical vocabulary

Instruments

Music itself, including: operatic, 'symphonic'-ish, renaissance-style, hymns, 70s folk bands, and 70s rock music. [Popular music | Hymns | Opera | Demihuman traditions] (we got music that sounds like Leonard Cohen, Sinéad O'Connor, 70s folk music, 50s folk music, ELO, Genesis...)

Education

The majority of trained musicians, including bards, start off being apprenticed to accomplished bards willing to tutor, and some seek out Bardic Colleges. The exact focus, quality and curriculum varies by the institution.

To be admitted one must have some experience performing, and be able to pass an audition. They will perform before one of the master bards of the college, as well as one 'invisible' listener they're unaware of. Both masters must agree that the candidate is worth teaching or not for admission, if they don't agree further auditions will follow until they do agree on a verdict.

'Low-order' colleges generally concentrate on mastery of pitch, timbre and nuance. Students are taught to sing scales and perfectly duplicate overheard notes and tunes with their voice, as well as memorizing a set of tunes on a range of instruments to familiarise themselves with different keys and methods. The crafting and repair of one form of instrument is also part of the training.

'High-order' colleges offer a wider range of instruments and repertoire, teaching the history behind the music and lyrics, as well as some language tutoring - not necessarily to speak the language, but to be able to sing such songs perfectly.

New students to any college will be taught the basics in classes at first, but very soon will be passed onto a tutor for one-on-one tutoring.

Pretty much all official colleges in the Realms would make you a College of Lore bard in core DnD terms.

What is called The College of Valor does not actually involve colleges, and is found amongst warrior cultures like Orcs or the Illuskan Northmen, Uthgardt and Reghed: skalds - warrior poets, lorekeepers and clan storytellers.

The most prestigious colleges are the College of Fochlucan in Silverymoon, an ancient bardic tradition which I assume from the name is supposed to be from Ffolk tradition (the Moonshaes). This college has close ties to the Harpers, though most members will stress that their mission and activities are separate to avoid being targeted by the Harpers' enemies.

The College of the Herald is also found in Silverymoon and was founded by a Harper in 922 DR to preserve history. The college maintains a strict neutrality towards the conflicts of the world, and its focus is on preservation of history, folklore and legend over music.

The College of New Olamn, once Ollamh, another ancient bardic tradition, is in Waterdeep, established in 1366 by wealthy patrons of the arts.

On a less formal level, priests of Milil are charged with spreading music and teaching as many as possible to play and sing, and followers of EIlistraee are to 'nurture beauty, music, the craft of making musical instruments, and song wherever they find it.'

Vernacular

'Minstrelsy' is a term for live music, not including hymns and holy music. Recorded music does exist, though mostly in the form of spells that exist to capture and play the song back on command. People like to use them for study, meditation, fun, etc. If you don't have access to magic, due to cost or general mistrust of the stuff, the Gondians have invented music boxes. You can also get those jewellery boxes with the spinning dancer that play music when they open.

A 'song' is monophonic performance or piece, consisting pof a single vocalist with no instrumental accompaniment.

'Allsong' is the term for polyphonic pieces; covering vocals with instrumental accompaniment, multiple singers such as choirs, and orchestras.

'Newclang' is recent music that starts playing with or breaking conventions. May be viewed as a brilliant invention or modern pop garbage, depending on your tastes.

'song-cycles': 'extended stories told by ballads being sung in a particular sequence. Most of these are 'later inventions,' concocted by a minstrel or bard stringing together their personal favourites (or tunes that they could perform well, and that were popular with paying audiences) into a story of sorts, and then knitting them together with altered lyrics, additional linking songs, and sometimes short spoken-word orations, into the tale of one hero's life, or a romance, or the reign of a villainous king, or the saga of a fearsome dragon or other predatory monster (and its eventual defeat).'

If the performance is 'wordless' then there are no sung lyrics. There might be vocalisations along with the music, but as per the name, no words.

The concept of sorting music into genres apparently hasn't much occurred to anybody yet; music is music in most people's eyes. Historical music trends are named after popular artists of the time. Still you have lammuer (slow waltzes), whirls (reels) and tonsets (courtly formal dances).

There is no standard agreed upon scale that is used by the whole of the Realms.

-

Instruments

The instruments most frequently seen in the hands of common minstrels are lutes and harps. Bells, clapping or stamping one's feet, rhythm sticks and a small wooden pipe akin to a penny whistle serve as accompaniment, and for major percussion instruments you have hand drums and 'great drums' (kettle drums).

Ocarinas, kazoos and mouth harps are pretty common.

Yarting: An acoustic guitar, basically, with origins in Amn and Calimshan, but variations exist everywhere.

Songhorn: Recorders

Straele: A violin-like instrument, shaped a bit like a metronome and played cradled in one arm (preferably while sitting).

Great staele: Cellos and basses

Drone: A large, stationary double-reed instrument with a bladder and several mouthpieces, played by multiple musicians and sounding either like the drones of a bagpipe or an organ or synthesizer.

Jassaran: a crude 'keyboard-and-wires' instrument invented in Sembia that sounds something like a harpsichord.

Artang: A dulcimer, though artangs are only plucked or bowed.)

Shawm: A gnomish instrument that's something like an oboe or bassoon in form. There's also a bellows powered variant.

Zulkoon: A Thayan pump organ. Pipe organs also exist.

Tantan: tambourines. Popular with halflings.

Longhorns: flutes

'Birdpipes' or Shalm: pan pipes. Most popular with Lliirans and elves, particularly copper and green elves.

Tocken: carved oval bells set to hang so that they can be lightly struck. Instruments such as this are found in subterranean cultures (Dwarves and goblins, mostly). The sound echoes through the structures.

Glaur: Basically a trumpet (more specifically it sounds like a renaissance instrument called a serpent), shaped something between a cornucopia and a saxophone.

Gloon: Much like a glaur, but lacking in valves and it produces a markedly mournful sound.

'Whistlecanes' or thelarr: The bane of parents. Basically just a cut reed you can whistle with. People like to give them to children, who do as children do and proceed to give everybody ear aches from badly played instruments.

-

Music

With a note that a lot of the following kind of applies to the Sword Caoast, Heartlands, Cormyr, Dalelands and etc. Different regions of Faerûn have different music. The kind of Thayan music you'd hear in alehouses in East Faerûn, for example, apparently sounds like this. (Songs with such tunes are called 'thaeraeden,' or 'life laments', and the lyrics are often melancholy questions and challenges. Usually break up songs and unrequited love, the usual.)

So, switching out more modern instruments like drumkits and electric guitars, this is the kind of music you'd apparently expect to hear from minstrels, street and tavern performers and etc. This is basically turning on the radio:

Popular ballads and songs sound something like:

These: X, X, X, X,

Stuff like Leonard Cohen. X

1970s folk music, like Steeleye Span and Maddie Prior. Like the Prickle Eye Bush X, X.

Tongue-in-cheek songs like the Irish Ballad are popular with the working class. I feel like that one specifically would be popular with drow and Bhaalspawn, personally.

'Easy listening' being played in the background while you're passing the evening at a tavern sounds like standard Renaissance fare like Packington's Pound and My Thing is My Own.

Dance music would sound something like this: X

The kind of music you're likely to hear at an upper class party is going to be bringing in musicians and possibly orchestras and dancing. Stuff like this: X, X, X, X,

Orchestral music doesn't utilise strings very much, and prefers to use vocalisation in its place. You generally get more stuff like this.

-

The Opera

Inasfar as I can tell, the opera is exactly what you expect.

The most famous/popular operas include:

'the War of Three Castles:' Featuring a bunch of kings throwing their sons and daughters off to lead armies against each other. Disaster strikes, two princes and a princess are trapped in a tomb in the Underdark and a love triangle ensues. The princess decides fuck that nonsense, she will have both or neither but she's not having this drama, and they work out a polyamorous relationship, and agree that they will go home and have a 'marriage of three crowns' where they all marry each other, even if their fathers may try to stop them or execute them for it. Then they get back up there, discover that their fathers have been killed turning the entire region into a war torn region. They recover what is left, and they get married and unite their kingdoms in peace and like happily ever after.

'Alvaericknar:' The lovable rogue archetype who shares his name with the title bites off more than he can chew trying to rob a lich - who kills him. But he's prepared for that, and due to ensuring that the lich killed him in a spot that would set of several enchantments he manages to come back as undead, and proceeds to continue his hijinks. 'As an undead, he goes right on being a swindling, fun-loving rascal, only now he doesn’t need food or drink or shelter.'

'Downdragon Harr': An evil sorceress turns a princess into a dragon, uses magic to disguise herself as the princess, murders the king and takes over the kingdom. Her first decree is to have every dragon in the kingdom slain (all dragons are played by bassi profundi). A knight with a magic sword wounds the princess in her dragon form, and the enchantment on the blade breaks the spell on her. They fall in love via duet, and then go to the most ancient wyrm in the land (the titular Harr), wake him from his centuries long slumber and use him as their steed to fly off and challenge the sorceress. 'She sees their approach and uses mighty sorcery, that drains the life from most of her courtiers and all of her guards, to slay the dragon as it dives down on the castle—but in death, it slays her, crashing into the castle and crushing her to pulp under its great bulk as it slides to a (dead) stop. (It sings in death, and so does the queen from somewhere under it.) The princess and the knight begin their happy rule, and wedded bliss, atop the carcass of the great dragon.'

One suspects dragons do not care overmuch for this opera.

-

Hymns:

Religious music is typically plainchant, a form of music that usually consists purely of vocals (typically a solitary singer). There is no set rhythm, as the song consists of singing prayers and religious verse. Sometimes there's the occasional accompaniment from a instrument, such as an organ, or a slow heavy drum beat, in the case of Banite hymns.

They can be more complex: polyphonic hymns involve 'two or more singers or instrumentalists playing independent melodic lines at the same time.'

The hymns of most faiths sound most akin to Gregorian chanting. At its softest and most elaborate, you get something that sounds something like a simplified Enya song.

-

Elves

Ah yes, the mysterious and magic melodies of the Tel'Quessir...

Which apparently sound a lot like, say, Don't Bring Me Down, Land of Confusion, Domino Medley, Mr Blue Sky...

They also have your Enya and Loreena McKennit type stuff.

Replace the guitar with a harp, maybe throw in a flute, that's elven music. It's rock. Elven instruments are the only instruments thus far capable of sustain. The effects on the vocals can be replicated by elves, who have a strange quirk with their vocal chords where they can produce two notes/sounds at once, distorting their voice in a way that's similar. Some have a genetic quirk that allows them to sort of say 'two things at once.' Generally elves prefer softer singing voices.

Elven musical performances feature galadrae - three dimensional illusions depicting scenes to go along with the song, not dissimilar to what one might see at a modern concert. Generally the theme is the history/story behind the piece.

Common elven folk songs are apparently these: Laeryn's Lament My Love Green And Growing Blood of My Sisters The Moondapple Stag Knights On The Ride Thorn Of Rose Winterwillow [an instrumental] Greenhallow Mantle Stone Fall, Tree Rise The Lady Laughing

-

Dwarves

Dwarves like drums and metallic percussion for their music, and vocals tend to be plainsong.

Large clanholds with volcanic vents may build giant complex pipe organs.

'...usually dwarves play piano-like personal instruments (strings hit with hammers; hitting things with hammers is the dwarven way). Most such dwarf instruments look more like an accordion (small portable keyboard) and have metal strings.'

-

Gnomes

Gnomes like drones and oboes (or shawms, I guess). Traditionally, history and lore has been an oral tradition kept by women, so it wouldn't surprise me if some lorekeepers sing it.

-

Halflings

Halflings are apparently known for their comic, and usually bawdy, operas, which are popular with gnomes and dwarves. Titles include 'Ravalar’s Roister In The Cloister; Yeomen, Bowmen, and The Taming Maiden; The Seven Drunken Swordswingers Of Silverymoon; The Haunted Bedpan; The Laughing Statue Of Beltragar; and The Night Six In-Use Beds Fell Into The Castle Moat.'

Outside of that their music overlaps a lot with human music trends.

-

Orcs and goblins

Heavy drumbeats, gongs, warhorns and rhythmic shouting/chanting.

-

Dragonborn

Nothing outside of BG3 that I see, so I'd go with what the game says: throat singing.

[nerdygaymormon]

Letter I sent to BYU about the curriculum of the University Foundations class

If you'd like to send your own email, please send here: rich_osguthorpe@byu.edu, carl_hernandez@byu.edu, julianne_grose@byu.edu, presidentsoffice@byu.edu

————————————————————

I'm an alumnus of BYU, class of '97. I am gay and an active Latter-day Saint. 

When I attended BYU, the Honor Code was written in a way that made me feel I couldn't tell anyone else that I'm gay without possibly being expelled from school. A person undergoes a lot of changes while in university and having a safe gospel-based environment to talk through things is an immense blessing. Except I didn't have that. I had a secret and had to always be on guard. It gets exhausting to never get to truly relax. 

I've experienced a great deal of hope as the Church and BYU both inched their way forward towards greater acceptance and inclusion of LGBTQ+ individuals. BYU has taken steps towards becoming a place where LGBTQ+ students can feel fostered in the church and safe in the gospel, where both the Spirit and love can be present in their lives. 

The speech Elder Holland gave in 2021 to BYU faculty and staff about the unique nature of BYU generated a big backlash from the queer community and those who love them. Given how it hurts a group of vulnerable students, I was shocked to learn this address has been chosen for the incoming Freshmen to read. If the goal is to keep queer students in the closet and not feel safe to express a core part of how they experience the world, just as the Honor Code did to me when I was a student, then this is a great reading to include. 

I'm curious as to why these remarks were chosen. How are these remarks going to be presented so that homophobia and transphobia are not seen as something which is a unique and critical part of the BYU culture and experience? What additional messages will be included so that queer students will feel this is a safe environment for them to be open about their experiences and that they can have hope in the future?

Thank you,

David

[taradiddled]

"Okay," Polly says, stirring her cup of tea. "Stop me if you've heard this one before." She sets her spoon aside on the saucer, then, with all the gravitas of a great orator, she begins:

"A beautiful, proper Goetian lady walks into her first class of the day on her very first official day at university. The class is Fundamentals of Neuroscience by Hell Standards, so this Goetian lady is shouldering the expensive leather strap of a very elegant bag, full of what must have been the HEAVIEST books you can imagine. She has a cup home-brewed tea in a thermos in hand, and is the most formally dressed of all the students in the classroom. Right away, she has the innate sense that will not have the easiest of interactions with her fellow classmates, who see her immediately as an oddity.

"The Goetian lady goes to take a seat up front, as she has been advised by her elders, who are not quite pleased that their daughter has shirked her birthright to delve into the messy business of medicine, but are still paying for the lady's tuition. The lady sees a spot open at the front row, and goes to take a seat, right beside an imp classmate, who scorns the Goetian lady right off, before vacating her seat to sit elsewhere.

"Flustered, the Goetian lady tries focus on preparing her notebook for class, whilst ignoring the stares she's receiving from several of her classmates. She's arrived ten minutes before class will begin, so she finds herself spending those ten minutes staring at her notebook, unable to completely tune out the whispers in the air, most of which concern the lady herself.

"Class begins, and, mercifully, the whispers cease, as the instructor takes to the little podium at the front of the classroom, and begins introductions. Five minutes after class has officially started, the classroom door bangs open, and a banshee comes storming into the room, hefting a rather large, weathered book-bag under her arm. The strap had snapped during the banshee's mad dash to class, as she'd accidentally overslept her alarm, and she was wearing these ghastly camouflage scrubs that she wore to her part-time job as an orderly in the local hospital.

"This banshee was frazzled, clearly, and upon making her entrance to the classroom, all eyes turn on the banshee, and the instructor, a very toadish demon with a gut like an eight-score bachelor...tuts at the banshee! Reprimands her for her tardiness, to which the banshees profusely apologizes, explaining that her bag strap had broken while she had been trying to cross the street to university, and she'd had to bumble through traffic to collect her things.

"The instructor scoffs at the banshee's explanation, and orders her to take a seat so that class can commence. Now, the Fundamentals of Neuroscience by Hell Standards is one of the core classes required in the curriculum, and this particular class is the first scheduled of the day, so the room is PACKED. Seats are full everywhere you look, save, of course, for that one seat open beside the Goetian lady. Ordinarily, the thought of sitting beside a Goetian would fill any ordinary banshee with trepidation, as they would know the history of bad blood between the species. However, this banshee does not care for the tribulations between the two, and takes that very seat beside the Goetian lady.

"The Goetian lady is understandably stunned as this banshee sits down, drops her mangled bookbag on the table in front of her, and begins pulling out her books and pens, as quickly as possible. Class commences, and the Goetian lady is surprised, thirty minutes into the class now, when she realizes that she has been completely IGNORED by the banshee! Not even a glance the Goetian lady's way, or a vocal acknowledgement. This perturbs the Goetian lady, and she waits until the class's brief ten-minute break to address the banshee directly.

"The Goetian lady is about to introduce herself, when the banshees cuts her off! Imagine that! She makes a zipping sound with her mouth, holding up a hand to the Goetian lady -- how rude! -- before saying, 'I have no interest in sharing small talk with a pampered brat, thanks.' The Goetian lady is incensed! How dare this banshee! Flustered, she reprimands the banshee for such rude behavior, and that is when the banshee turns full towards the Goetian lady...and the Goetian lady realizes the banshee is one of the most beautiful creatures the lady has ever seen.

Beside her wife, Moira snorted in derision. "I still think you're just flattering me, Polly," she took a sip from her mug of coffee. "My hair was a fucking mess because I'd forgotten to brush it, and there was a pizza stain on my shirt from the night before, where I'd wiped my fingers after finishing off the leftovers in my fridge."

Polly shook her head, disagreeing firmly. "No," she said, beak clicking. "You were GORGEOUS. And I stand by my recollection of that very special day I met the banshee who would become the love of my life!"

Moira's cheeks flushed pink. "Do you really need to pull out the bard-speak in front of company, Pol?" She gestured to Lucifer and Adam seated across from them on the opposite couch. Lucifer was quite enraptured with Polly's tale, while Adam was polishing off the cucumber sandwich Polly had prepared just for Adam to enjoy.

[susagnon]

To have: Jammingwhey’s social intelligence

"...whaddaya doin', dunce-face?"

Horikoshi referred to Kirishima and Kaminari as class 1-A’s emotional cores. Out of the two of them, Kaminari flies more under the radar, due to lesser screentime.

How does Kaminari function as one of 1-A’s emotional cores?

Let’s start with a perhaps more unconventional example:

“Flaming crap mixed with garbage” is still one of the more creative insults that appeared in MHA. Alongside Asui, Kaminari took over the quite important job of making the shifting power dynamics between Deku and Bakugou visible:

Bakugou's unrestrained violence against Deku during 1-A's first team assignment, was enough to make the class lose respect for him.

While Bakugou is undoubtedly talented and powerful, he was also blind to the fact, that he was only a big fish in a small pond.

At UA, everyone used to be in the top of their middle schools. Some, e.g., Iida, came from much better schools than Bakugou himself.

Meaning, Bakugou had no reason to prance around the way he did - and it was at UA, where he got served his first humble pie ever: Firstly, Deku fighting back. Secondly, a show of Todoroki's power. Lastly, a very sober but cutting assessment of himself by Yaoyorozu.

In contrast to the kids at his old school - and aside from a traumatized Deku - neither Kaminari nor the rest of 1-A are afraid of Bakugou. Kaminari snarking at Bakugou is him letting Bakugou know that.

To repeat: At UA, everyone used to be in the top of their former schools.

I just feel taken back a bit, whenever fanon depicts Kaminari and Ashido as being dumber than bricks. The two of them are the academically lowest ranking students in class 1-A, of UA. Characterizing them as being overall stupid, is like saying the academically lowest ranking freshman at Harvard University is generally stupid.

Don’t get me wrong: At elite schools, there are many intelligent people - and plenty more dumb people, just like anywhere else.

But everyone who gets into the school, must've been smart and talented enough, in order to beat out the dozens of other applicants for one of the coveted spots.

Considering how real-life schools in Japan work, Kaminari too, was most likely in the top of his middle school: He casually references Hemingway, like he reads his stuff for fun... Which actually might be the case, because I don’t think that American author is commonly part of the curriculum in Japanese highschools.

Furthermore, Bakugou (ranked 3rd in the midterms) and Monoma (rated with a 5/5 in intelligence in the official data book) have canonically failed exams before.

In short: Just by themselves, academic scores don't mean jack shit, if you want to have an accurate picture of someone's intelligence and capabilities - not to mention, potential.

Whiny wannabe edge-lord Shinsou should be grateful that there are generously kind people like Kaminari. I wouldn't have the ducking patience.

Aside from letting a peer know that their crappy behaviour is unwelcomed, and next to the example above, Kaminari’s social intelligence also shines in other moments.

The light novels lampshade that trait at least twice:

When he makes sure to include Kouda, making room for the latter to voice his thoughts if he wishes too.  

Another of the stories, narrates something along the lines of, ~he [Bakugou] had the feeling, that as long as Kaminari existed, Bakugou would never be alone.~

Kouda is one of the minor 1-A students. As such, he's often forgotten by the audience. But in-universe? They may not be close, but Kaminari Denki will never let anyone feel left out.

Even 1-A's snappy Pomeranian ends up appreciating him.

I mean, it starts with Kaminari running after Kirishima, who was following Bakugou. After a while, Kirishima and Kaminari trailed after Bakugou together. Since then, Bakugou has dragged Kaminari with him, and told the latter to "leave the rescue to the extras!" Thus, explicitly excluding Kaminari from 'those extras.'

And why wouldn’t you keep a good grip on such an awesome friend?

[mochayoubi]

hello!! how are you? i'm reaching out to you because you're the one i keep seeing my dashboard that's related to japanese learning.

i wanted to ask: how do you suggest a beginner should start studying? like, they're N5, and they know hiragana and katakana, but do not know how to move forward from there because it scares them? (it's me, btw, hi hello how are you how are the kids)

thank you so much!! have a good day!!

omg hi!!! im doing ok (im sick rn but it's fine lol) thanks sm for the ask! :3

i think the best thing you can do for yourself is follow your curiosity! at the early stages of learning curiosity will take you much farther than trying to set hard deadlines for yourself - especially when it sounds like moving forward is a bit intimidating at the moment.

so, i'm going to list out things that might be worth checking out. it takes a while for people to figure out what works for them, and since you mentioned you already know hiragana/katakana you're primed to get out there and really explore your options! embrace the feeling of possibility rather than the fear of the unknown :D i say this bc if you get too caught up in making the "right" choice it might just make learning too stressful to want to continue

anyway here's some things that beginners commonly go for when continuing with japanese learning (under the readmore)

find a textbook and work through it there's a bunch out there, I know Genki I is probably the most well-known, but i'm also familiar with Tobira I, Yookoso, and Minna no Nihongo. textbooks are nice because they're literally designed for learners and offer structure to what order you learn kanji, grammar, etc. and come with lots of practice questions. the difficult part is self-teaching through them since they tend to assume youre also using it with a teacher who can correct you and give advice. however they're still pretty good as references imo! if you google "[textbook name] pdf" they're pretty likely to come up

find an app you can use daily there are also a lot of these, and many of them are designed to be used daily so you can better enforce the habit of studying japanese every day. these tend to be simpler and gamefied to make it more appealing and easier to pick up as well. i would just stay away from duolingo as i've heard their japanese curriculum is bad. some other ones i've heard are helpful are Renshuu and Human Japanese.

find an online guide and follow it by "online guide" i mean websites people have compiled of their own guides to learning japanese, such as Tae Kim. these are more accessible and unlike textbooks tend to assume that you are self-studying, so it's easier to follow independently, but usually don't have any practice questions or ways to test yourself. still good as a reference. you can also check out this website that specifies their philosophy on what makes effective japanese learning and what steps to take as a beginner (imo it's very. long. and winds on for a while. but people have said it helps!)

download and use anki anki is an app (both phone and pc) that uses flashcards and that many learners use to retain vocab. their site has decks other people have created, and you can find decks of "core vocab" for example which has flashcards of common japanese vocab. you can also create your own flashcards of words you encounter in the wild to help practice them even after you've read it. i think anki is super useful, but i would probably suggest using it once you have more of a grasp on basic japanese concepts or else you'll just be rote-memorizing things that don't make sense to you yet. but i'm putting it here in case this appeals to you!

take a class or find an online tutor now this one will most likely cost you money, but it offers the most structure and guidance possible which can be extremely helpful starting out since you're able to ask questions and get feedback. you can look into nearby universities who might offer japanese classes, or you can try one of the many language-learning tutor websites out there. i've had some decent success with italki, and there's also JOI (japanese online institute) that i've heard is very helpful too.

watch japanese-learning videos these can be nice bc you can actually hear the japanese and how it's supposed to sound, and it's typically lower effort and easier to get into than actively starting a textbook or class. miku real japanese, japarrot, and 日本語の森 are channels i've watched before and like, but there's plenty others out there too. i'd just steer away from clickbait-y looking ones like "i learned japanese in 30 days and here's how!!" since they tend to not be that helpful.

read simple stories in japanese reading in japanese tends to be the most intimidating step for people, but there's sites that have stories made for beginners that are easy to follow and only use hiragana/katakana. my go-to for my students is usually tadoku since the stories are short, organized by level, and very beginner friendly. a while ago someone showed me natively which lets you look up japanese books, also by level. if you want some good beginner manga, yotsuba and teasing master takagi-san are what i've recommended before

misc. things you can try!

watch anime but intentionally - try to actively listen and pick up on words they say. a long time ago i used animelon, which puts japanese subtitles that you can adjust to show hiragana only

look up jlpt n5/n4 specific materials. they're geared for an exam so it might not be the most natural feeling, but they do tend to be convenient for lists of vocab and grammar. this website has some helpful resources for that

add an extension on your browser that will let you hover over japanese words and see its definition. i use firefox and have 10ten reader to do this, but rikaikun and yomichan are also similar extensions

when you learn the japanese word for something in your house, put a sticky note on it that has the japanse word. like, for "table" you can put a note on it that says 「テーブル」. i heard this can help with retention (i haven't done it myself tbf)

EDIT: ohh i can't believe i forgot this. but join a japanese-learning community! there's discord servers out there, and if you have a friend willing to study with you you can ask them to be your accountability buddy.

anyway, i know that was a lot but i hope that gives you some direction on where you'd like to go next in your japanese learning journey! ^_^ and again, absolutely no pressure to do all of these. the most important thing is letting curiosity be your guide and fostering a positive relationship with learning japanese rather than being afraid. if i can help out some more lmk!!

[blueberry-pride]

The Vulture Of Pomefiore

Introducing Blueberry Pride's main TWST OC!

Berry: Been planning this for quite a while now and I'm finally satisfied with the lore and look of my darling Rhea of Pomefiore!

Expanding my edits using my own art and I thought what better way to debut my stuff than to draw my TWST OC. Can't really be using the official groovy/art forever so this is me showing you guys what kind of style you can expect from time to time.

Brief Lore Explanation

Rhea comes from a world that's the least magical and as mundane in comparison to Twisted Wonderland. Things started to take a turn from the original path when the dark mirror sorted the unsuspecting grubby girl into the dorm of The Beautiful Queen.

Unbeknownst to Rhea, her features, her habits and to her very purpose in NRC has changed. Taking up the role of the vultures, the very same that were a part of the untimely demise of The Beautiful Queen in the original story.

Grade/Class Predicament

Since our girl is 18 yrs old but still as fresh and as helpless as a newborn in this strange world, she is what Crowley likes to call a 'Floating Student'. She is still originally placed within the first years due to the curriculum and all but she is required to participate in a few classes as well as events that are part of the 2nd and 3rd years. One of the reasons being is to catchup, relearn and 'socialize amongst her age group' (Headmage's words). So all in all, more assignments, make-up classes after school. Rhea's fine...so far.

Her Surname

The last name 'Villanelle' comes from poetry. Originally centered around pastoral scenes and many themes about the countryside. Recently, poets and writers use to talk about all sorts of things like celebration, sadness, love and loss.

I wanted to give her this name to appeal to her artistic and literature side, pretty much giving cottage-core vibes. Mostly her romanticizing certain aspects of her old mundane life before she got isekai'd into TWST. Another reason being is that it sounds like 'villain' and TWST IS based on Disney Villains so I thought it could be funny-

Rhea Trivia

Likes to look for 'junk' and upcycle it into something beautiful and useful. (This was inspired by vultures who are like scavengers and scavengers break down the corpses or leftovers so that it could recycle into the ecosystem and shi-)

Because of this nature, she's good buddies with our hyena boi Ruggie, who helps her find cool stuff around campus and in turn, she would give these crafts for him to sell.

Has a habit of picking stuff up from the ground or in random places that she presumes are unwanted. Especially pretty, peculiar or shiny things. (Inspired by birds' habit and as a part of Rhea's overall curious nature)

With her habit of gathering stuff, her eyes are very keen into finding such items even when they're in the corner of her eye. (Vultures having keen sense like good eyesight and sense of smell)

Whenever she does find something or even someone interesting, she has this weird ass habit of circling around them until she's certain that they're approachable.

Speaking of and ironically, this girl unfortunately wears glasses almost everyday due to astigmatism. However, there were occasions that she could still find things even without them due to her intuition.

With her sense of smell being more sensitive, she gets light headed whenever she's in alchemy/potions class and then gets excused to the nurse's office quite often. (Professor Crewel gives the nurse a heads up every time at this point)

Often gets messy be it intentional or unintentional. often times there's a twig somewhere in her hair for god knows what reason. Tis a good thing she has her trusty hygiene kit with her at all times.

Like the vultures in Snow White, she is always accompanied by someone wherever and whenever she goes out. You'd always find her in a duo or more.

Speaking of, her closest friends are Epel and Jack (her classmates~) Ruggie, Light Music Club (who originally wanted her in their club) and Rook (Whom she looks up to and see as an older brother figure)

With clubs, Crowley thought it would be a fun idea to draw lots of what Rhea's club is going to be (not even telling her beforehand smh). Low and behold the Headmage got Magical Shif/Spelldrive.

Rhea really got into broom flying class as she gets to see the view from up above, she also likes the wind in her but most importantly the rush she gets while up in the air.