#so I had to decide the grading system before A's death - the activities - what kids are accepted (age 5 and up) and so on

[eretzyisrael]

by Christopher Rufo

Portland, Oregon, has earned its reputation as America’s most radical city. Its public school system was an early proponent of left-wing racialism and has long pushed students toward political activism. As with the death of George Floyd four years ago, the irruption of Hamas terrorism in Israel has provided Portland’s public school revolutionaries with another cause du jour: now they’ve ditched the raised fist of Black Lives Matter and traded it in for the black-and-white keffiyeh of Palestinian militants.

I have obtained a collection of publicly accessible documents produced by the Portland Association of Teachers, an affiliate of the state teachers’ union that encourages its more than 4,500 members to “Teach Palestine!” (The union did not respond to a request for comment.)

The lesson plans are steeped in radicalism, and they begin teaching the principles of “decolonization” to students as young as four and five years old. For prekindergarten kids, the union promotes a workbook from the Palestinian Feminist Collective, which tells the story of a fictional Palestinian boy named Handala. “When I was only ten years old, I had to flee my home in Palestine,” the boy tells readers. “A group of bullies called Zionists wanted our land so they stole it by force and hurt many people.” Students are encouraged to come up with a slogan that they can chant at a protest and complete a maze so that Handala can “get back home to Palestine”—represented as a map of Israel.

Other pre-K resources include a video that repeats left-wing mantras, including “I feel safe when there are no police,” and a slideshow that glorifies the Palestinian intifada, or violent resistance against Israel. The recommended resource list also includes a “sensory guide for kids” on attending protests. It teaches children what they might see, hear, taste, touch, and smell at protests, and promotes photographs of slogans such as “Abolish Prisons” and “From the River to the Sea.”

In kindergarten through second grade, the ideologies intensify. The teachers’ union recommends a lesson, “Art and Action for Palestine,” that teaches students that Israel, like America, is an oppressor. The objective is to “connect histories of settler colonialism from Palestine to the United States” and to “celebrate Palestinian culture and resistance throughout history and in the present, with a focus on Palestinian children’s resistance.”

The lesson suggests that teachers should gather the kindergarteners into a circle and teach them a history of Palestine: “75 years ago, a lot of decision makers around the world decided to take away Palestinian land to make a country called Israel. Israel would be a country where rules were mostly fair for Jewish people with White skin,” the lesson reads. “There’s a BIG word for when Indigenous land gets taken away to make a country, that’s called settler colonialism.”

Before snack time, the teacher is encouraged to share “keffiyehs, flags, and protest signs” with the children, and have them create their own agitprop material, with slogans such as “FREE PALESTINE, LET GAZA LIVE, [and] PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.” The intention, according to the lesson, is to move students toward “taking collective action in support of Palestinian liberation.”

The recommended curriculum also includes a pamphlet titled “All Out for Palestine.” The pamphlet is explicitly political, with a sub-headline blaring in all capital letters: “STOP THE GENOCIDE! END U.S. AID TO IRSAEL! FREE PALESTINE!” The authors denounce “Zionism’s long genocidal war on Palestinian life” and encourage students to support “boycott, divestment, and sanctions” policies against Israel.

The pamphlet includes chants that teachers can adopt in the classroom. Some imply support for militancy and political violence: “Resistance is justified when people are occupied!”; “We salute all our martyrs! mothers, fathers, sons and daughters!”; “Justice is our demand! No peace on stolen land!”

It’s not immediately clear to what extent the “Teach Palestine!” lessons have been adopted in Portland public school classrooms. But the teachers’ union claims that the district has been “actively censoring teachers” for promoting pro-Palestine ideologies; in response, it has assembled a legal guide for how teachers can keep promoting the lessons under the guise of meeting state curriculum standards.

[buttacake80]

Gotta ask, you’re a lawyer, social worker, writer, NHL fan who’s been to many many games, you hold two degrees across various fields and universities, etc etc…how did you manage to do it all??? What is your life story??? Genuinely asking bc it is very admirable.

Black girl magic.

Genuinely.

When I was 4, I was sexually abused by a relative, then abused again at 6 by a neighbor. Around that same age, I was called nigger for the first time.

My dad was a military officer. I attended 6 different schools between K-8.

Through my dad, I am Black & Native. Through my mom, I am Black & Irish. My paternal grandfather was the product of rape, so he never knew his Native family. My maternal grandfather was a white Irish-American man who grew up in a sundown and attended lynchings as a young man. We learned about his racist past when my aunt went through his chest and found momentos & photos from the lynchings.

When I was a teenager, this same grandfather developed Alsheimers & would call me nigger, tar-baby, and porch monkey when I went to visit my grandma. Other times, when he didn't recognize me, he would approach me with just in his eyes. He would comb down his blond hair, adjust his clothes, then approach flirtatiously. I would have to avoid his hands.

We called him "Mr. Howard" and not grandpa.

In high school, my parents divorced, and we moved to my mother's hometown, where I befriended Black kids who were members of GD, VL, and LK. I got in trouble for fighting and was suspended and expelled from school activities for a semester.

Within a two year period, I lost 6 classmates to car accidents, including my senior year locker buddy.

In high school, I met a junior hockey player who had a crush on my best friend. He invited us to a game where he got in a fight & knocked a dude's tooth out. Thus, I fell in love with hockey.

I attended a PWI on a merit scholarship. I befriended mostly white girls, so that's how I learned about their inner group dynamics.

Got into law school. Did bad my first year. I never learned how to study. I have an excellent memory, so I would read something and retain it. That worked well in undergrad but not so well in law school. I turned my grades around by my final year, but in that same year, I lost my paternal grandfather and my roommate. My roommate died at her computer. They did multiple autopsies but never determined the cause of death. Marta just exhaled and died.

I was interviewing for a prosecutor role in Chicago when I started to have nightly visits from an old hag. I would be in lecture and have an impulse to jump from my seat and shred my clothes with my nails. I was representing a DV victim in her employment case when I had a panic attack and missed an administrative hearing. That was when I decided not to become an attorney.

After law school, I got a job at Amazon.com during its early days. I was there before the Kindle launched, and Jeff B was in my chain of command. I would get 3am emails from him. Had to leave when I found one of my coworkers sleeping under their desk.

So I moved to Ireland and got another degree. Wrote my dissertation on White Men, then returned to Amazon for a few months before jumping to work in government.

I have worked in the court system. I have been a child welfare social worker. I was hand selected to serve as a discharge social worker, working at an inpatient & FORENSIC hospital where I worked with pedophiles, murderers, and rapists. I was assaulted and left brain-injured by such a person.

I had to relearn how to walk and talk properly. I have lost jobs due to my disability and fought off abusive landlords who tried to evict me when I refused to sleep with him.

I have faced legitimate moments when I thought about ending my life, but I have such a strong desire to live. Tomorrow always brings a new day with new opportunities. I know every hardship & every trauma had only made me stronger.

Thank you for asking.

[starksvixen]

(LTI) Chapter 1: We Meet Again

Summary: An old alumni convinces you to return to UA. Your job? Train the next generation of heroes. But on your first day, old demons resurface.

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa (Eraserhead) x Fem!Reader (Illusionaire)

Quirk: Telepathic Illusions, Memory and Conscious Manipulation

Warnings: Hard angst to fluff, death, traumatic past, happy ending

A/N: This is a short chapter compared to some of my other work so I apologize! The next chapter will be a lot better, pinkie swear.

You lean against the rubble as the sound of sirens and soft chatter breaks up the dusty air. The pounding in your head is persistent, the burn of leather against the calluses of your hands intensifying the aches.

"This isn't the last you'll see of me! I'll make sure of it!"

Glaring at the villain being hauled off into the back of a cop car, you shakily stand up and walk over to the group of heroes that aided you in the attack. Of course, Number One was there, his flames radiating off of him, your hood from your suit trapping the heat in your face. Hawks kept chatting his ear off, seemingly still full of energy. But one young man caught your eye. Green hair and a nervous smile, a power that reminded you of only one person.

All Might.

"I see you've met my protege, Midoriya,"

Turning around, you can't help the smile forming on your face. Even in his weakened state, the arms that quickly wrapped around you were still as strong.

"Long time no see, Toshinori," you say with a grin.

"Likewise. It's not easy to track down Illusionaire now is it?"

"Well, that makes sense since after she graduated UA she spent time in the mountains learning samurai-like skills to aid her in battle since her quirk isn't strong like All Might's or Endeavour's. That's how she's the fifth top hero and the new leader of Nighteye's agency." Midoriya mumbles to himself.

Both you and Toshinori stare at the young one in shock at his knowledge, you more than the retired pro. However, at the mention of Nighteye, your head bows low in grief, the spunk keeping your shoulders up causing them to drop dramatically. He walks away, embarrassed by his actions, choosing to talk to what looked like one of his classmates.

"It looks like the villain attacks are getting closer and closer to UA," you mumble as you slowly look up again.

"You're right. While our security systems are strong, one day they won't be able to protect our students."

"Well, thankfully most of the teachers are retired or active pros. They're in good hands."

"We could use the element of surprise. A pro hero in our walls that can hear dangerous thoughts before the acts happen."

You whip your hood off and look at All Might with wide eyes.

"You want me to work at UA?!"

He laughs hard at your reaction, his hand ghosting over his wound as he slowly calms down.

"Yes. You could help train the students. They need to be strong both mentally and physically on the field. We need you, (Y/N)."

A sigh tickles your lips as you look at the destruction around you. So many heroes who began teaching disappeared from the field, good ones too. Some that would have ended this battle before it even started. Plus, you had the agency to think about now. Sure you had many within its walls that could keep it running, but the pressure was still there as the leader. With a moral tug of war playing between your head and heart, a firm hand grasps your shoulder.

"You know, not all pros who choose to teach leave the field. I mean Ai-"

You tense up immediately, your jaw automatically clenching.

"Don't say his name..."

"Sorry, certain pro heroes protect the city at night and help with major battles while also teaching. You don't have to leave what you love."

Looking at young Midoriya, you knew you had already decided. The next generation of heroes needed you.

"When do I start?"

-~-

Quietly perched hidden in the rafters of the training arena, you cock your head softly to one side as you listen to Class 1A begin to shuffle in.

"I remember meeting Ms. (L/N) on the battlefield before but she may have other tricks up her sleeve. I need to watch her closely, make sure to only use 5% so I can learn more about her fighting style."

"When will these extras shut up?! And where even is this teacher so I can kick her ass?! Not like she can beat the most powerful person in this stupid class?"

"I wonder if I should try that new cold soba place down the street..."

"Mr. Aizawa is not going to be happy if we continue to act like this in a new teacher's class. But how do I rally them?"

The name sends shivers up your spine, your head tilting more to one side as your jaw clenches tight. Slowly you push your head into a normal position, looking for the boy who claimed to be the strongest. As you see him enter the room, you tiptoe across the rafters until you stand directly above him.

Letting gravity take control, you drop from the rafters, landing on the top part of your feet to stay quiet. A cocky grin etches its way across the kid's face. But before he can make a sound, you lay your hand on his head, completely taking control of his brain.

He put up a good fight, that's for sure. However, it didn't take much push from you until his brain was like putty in your hands.

"So this is your strongest classmate?"

Everyone jumps up, a few students screaming out of fright including a certain purple shortie.

Looking towards the young man with red and white hair, you cock your head, prodding at his subconscious. His duel-coloured eyes glare into yours, mental walls being built just as fast as you take them down. With a smirk, you retreat.

"You show promise," you roll your neck as you lift your hand off the other boy, him falling to the ground a drooling mess.

"Um, Ms. (L/N)? Will he be okay?" a purple-haired young man asks.

"Besides a hurt ego? Yes, he will be,"

Pulling your hood off, you smirk at the rest of the class as their eyes go wide in shock.

"Illuminaire?!"

"Damn..."

Clenching your jaw at the familiar voice in your head, you quickly turn and glare at the raven-haired sensei.

"Don't forget who you're around and keep your thoughts to yourself."

He keeps his disinterested face as per usual, but you know if you went poking in Aizawa's head you would find nerves engulfing him.

"Don't forget, you're only a trainer. I'm the teacher here."

"Well, what a great job you're doing Aizawa! I could take your class down in seconds."

"You're a pro and they're still kids-"

"Kids training to be pros, Eraserhead!"

He swallows just a bit, shoving his hands into his pockets as he returns a disinterested stare to your glare.

"Now...if you'll excuse me, I have training to do. Go back to grading papers, teach."

A few ooos echoed throughout the crowd, a crimson glare of the kid you had under your control amongst them.

"Alright, class! The first lesson," you slowly pull out your katanas and roll your shoulders, slowly tilting your head to the side. "How to keep a telepath out."

[viastro]

the truth untold | choi seungcheol

ミ★ synopsis: you’re the smartest person in your grade, and choi seungcheol is the track star of the school that everyone has an infatuation with. that’s why your relationship has been a secret to the entire school for the past year.

ミ★ genre: highschool!au, hidden relationship, humor, fluff

ミ★ warnings: small fight :p

ミ★ word count: 4,484 

ミ★ pairings: seungcheol x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi ! This is a rather hefty oneshot I wrote lol uhhh I was planning to actually split it up into three parts but I was like, let’s treat the gang today HAHA I hope you guys like this one! also !!! this is dedicated to @babiesanshine​ cause she biases cheol <3

“Cheol, can you hand me the almond flour?” You ask as you prepare the bowl of ingredients for the macarons. “Here you go yn.” He says, placing it on the counter beside you.

“Thanks baby.” You say and he gives you a warm smile, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before he goes back to the dining table to work on his homework.

You’re currently making macarons for the national honor society’s club fundraiser tomorrow. Your friends always rave about your different flavored macarons whenever you bring some, so the club decided it’d be a good idea for you to make some to sell at the bake sale tomorrow.

“What flavors are you making this time?” Seungcheol asks from the kitchen table. You pause the measuring of the powdered sugar to think for a second, because honestly.... you did not think that far ahead yet.

“Uh..”

“You didn’t think that far ahead yet, huh?” He says, taking the words straight out of your mouth. You turn around and give him a big smile making him laugh.

“I might make cotton candy flavored ones, and chocolate mocha ones? We’ll see how I’m feeling in a second.” You tell him and he nods, turning back to work on homework again.

You and Seungcheol have been dating for over a year now, but have been friends for a lot longer since your parents are close. You are your grade’s valedictorian, the girl in both Key Club and National Honors Society. You’re not really an allrounder though because you dislike sports and exercise with a passion. You like to watch sports and support your school’s teams, but you don’t like to participate in them whatsoever.

However, your boyfriend Seungcheol is the exact opposite when it comes to sports and physical activity. He’s on the track team and likes to workout in his spare time. He’s practically the track star, and you’re the smartest kid in school. The both of you are in two different ranks, but you’re each excelling in your own ways.

You’re pretty well known among the school due to your intelligence, but you’re also rather outgoing. While there’s Seungcheol, the guy every girl in each grade has a massive crush on. His friend group, which consists of twelve other handsome guys, Jesus Christ, are the eye candy of your high school.

That is why no one knows that you two are together. Except your guys’ families, as well as the friend group, literally none of the student body knows that the valedictorian and the most handsome jock in school have been dating for over a year. You both decided that this was for the best, mainly for your sake because you knew the girls were vicious when it came to your boyfriend. You can’t really blame them though, he’s literally the best possible man ever.

There was one time when you were both sophomores, where a rumor spread around that Seungcheol was dating this one girl a grade above you guys. The next day, she literally had so many sticky notes placed inside her locker with harmful messages from the jealous girls who had a crush on Seungcheol. It only stopped once he confirmed that it was just a rumor.

You didn’t think that those types of things happened in real life, but good fucking lord were you wrong. Now that’s why you guys kept it a secret, for your sake. It was a rather good system you had going, you both only gave each other small glances at school, other than that you guys hardly spoke. The only thing that’s a bit annoying, is to see so many girls try and attempt to flirt with Seungcheol. You’re lucky that he never plays along with it though, he only has his eyes on you.

“Alright, I finished my homework. Let me help you baby.” Seungcheol announces from the dining table, packing up his laptop and placing it into his backpack. You’re practically done with the cotton candy macarons, now you just need to work on the chocolate ones.

“Okay! Can you start piping the cotton candy batter onto that baking sheet please? Then put it in the oven for me once you’re done?” You ask and he nods as he raises his arms above his head to stretch. You lowkey eye the sliver of skin that appears when his shirt rides up, taking notice of his v-line, before he lowers his arms. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you immediately turn away.

“You’re silly yn, you make it so obvious when you check me out.” Seungcheol teases, wrapping his arms around your middle as you start putting the chocolate batter into another piping bag. You giggle, “Whatever. You were stretching like that to get my attention anyways.”

“Perhaps. Good thing it worked.” He says, nipping at your ear before he lets go to wash his hands. You feel your cheeks warm as you recall what just happened, almost giggling to yourself like a little girl. Cute.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“These taste so good!” A freshman tells you excitedly as she takes the first bite of one of the macarons you made. You smile widely, “Thank you so much! I hope you have a good day!” She waves as she walks off with her friends, and you let out a content sigh.

“Wow yn, your macarons are the real star here at this bake sale. You’ve given us the majority of the profit so far!” Your best friend, Hyejin, squeals, giving you a big hug and you laugh, reaching around to hug her back. You and her have been best friends since freshman year, and she’s the only one outside of Seungcheol’s friend group who knows of you and him dating.

“You’re so sweet Hyejin, I’ll be sure to make some more later this week and bring you some.” You promise and she smiles, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as she is rather affectionate with you.

“Back to register!” She says, giving you finger guns as she walks back over.

You start organizing your small paper containers, keeping busy as you wait for some more customers. You only have about thirty macarons left, and the students typically buy four to six when they come, so you’ll be running out pretty quickly.

“Wow, these look good.” You look up immediately at that familiar voice, only to lock eyes with Seungcheol. He gives you a small smile and you reciprocate it. “Thank you. This is cotton candy flavored, and this one is chocolate with a mocha filling.” You tell him and he grins knowingly, because he damn well helped make these.

“Hm, can I have two of the cotton candy and two of the chocolate please?” Seungcheol asks you and you nod your head, grabbing a paper container and neatly placing four inside.

“That will be six dollars over at the register. There’s a sign pointing to Hyejin over there.” You tell him and he nods, looking amused at you. You hand him the container, and he makes sure to brush his hands against yours as he takes it from you. You raise your eyebrow slightly and he lets out one of his cute giggles.

“Thank you yn. I’m excited to eat these.” He tells you, giving you a big smile as he walks off towards Hyejin. He pays, laughing with your friend before making his way out the door. He gives you a small smile and a wave, and you wave back at him with a big smile on your face. Once he leaves, you take notice of the girls who followed him into the room, and they’re split between staring harshly at you or turning around to follow Seungcheol out of the room. You feel your heartbeat quicken for a moment, choosing to look down at the table and start reorganizing once again.

“Who the hell do you think you are yn?” One girl asks, and you glance up to see that it’s Jieun, the girls soccer captain in front of your table. She’s really a pretty girl, but she’s one of Seungcheol’s biggest admirers. She took part in bullying that one junior from a couple years back. She’s glaring at you, hands placed on your table.

“What do you mean?” You ask quietly, trying to keep your cool as you continue to organize your stand.

“I saw you flirting with Cheol, you know him and I have something going on, don’t you?” She asks, venom dripping from her voice. You pause, knowing that she’s lying and being delusional. You look back up at her, giving her a sweet smile.

“I wasn’t flirting with him, Jieun, I was simply selling some of my macarons. By the way, the cotton candy ones are really good-” She cuts you off by slamming her fist on the table, making you jump back and almost everyone else in the room stop to look at the both of you.

“I don’t give a fuck about your goddamn macarons. I only came in here to see what Cheol would wanna do at the stupid NHS bake sale, and he made his way right to your table without looking at the other goods. Stay away from him yn, I mean it.” She threatens, and you look around the room to see Hyejin looking at you with concern. You try and give her a look inconspicuously, and she immediately understands.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave Jieun.” Hyejin says as she makes her way over, arms crossed over her chest. Jieun rolls her eyes, turning and giving you one last death glare, before walking out with the rest of her friends.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and Hyejin immediately pulls you into a hug. “Did she find out?” She asks you quietly and you shake your head, closing your eyes as Hyejin holds you, finding comfort in your best friend.

“No, but I think she has a feeling something’s going on.” You whisper and Hyejin lets out a sigh. She pulls away and makes you look her in the eyes, “If she continues to try and attack you, let me know.” You nod, feeling tired suddenly.

“Hi, can I have six macarons?” You and Hyejin turn your heads to see another customer staring at the both of you with tentative smiles. “That’s my cue to leave and start manning the register again! Let me know if you want me to take over, you can head home if you want.” Hyejin tells you, giving you one last hug before she walks off. You take in a deep breath, turning to look back at the student with a smile.

“Yeah of course! How many of each do you want?”

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“Do I have to go?” You ask Hyejin as you lay in your bed, frowning up at the ceiling.

“Yes! Cheol’s 4x1 relay team got first in state! You know that Jun’s parties are always really chill and fun. Plus, I don’t wanna go alone. I promise I’ll stay right beside you, I always do.” She tells you, throwing a dress over your face, blocking your view of the ceiling.

“I know… but I’m scared of Jieun hehe.” You respond and you can feel Hyejin’s anger grow at the thought of the soccer captain. “She stinks! She fucking STINKS! But she’s also part of the reason we’re going to the party tonight.”

You sit up immediately at this newfound information, removing the dress from your face and throwing it beside you. You stare at Hyejin with wide eyes, and she gives you a small smile, “Uh… surprise?”

“WHY!?!?”

“BECAUSE! I heard she’s gonna try and make a move on Cheol tonight, we have to keep watch over the skank!” Hyejin tells you, walking over to you from your closet and placing the dress back on your lap.

“Now go change into that so I can do your makeup!” You let out a loud groan, getting off your bed and obliging by Hyejin’s wishes.

partially because you wanna go to the track teams celebration party now to make sure that Jieun won’t jump your boyfriend.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“I hate it here.” is the first thing that slips out of your mouth as soon as you and Hyejin walk in.

There’s LED lights wrapped around the living room, radiating a bright blue. There’s people grinding on each other in the middle of the living room where the main speakers are, and those that are playing beer pong to your left. You see Seungcheol and the rest of the friend group heading in the direction of the kitchen, and you raise an eyebrow at the sight of Jieun and her friends following after them.

“There they are.” Hyejin mutters, grabbing your hand and making your way through the crowd to keep a close eye on Jieun. You both enter the large kitchen, noticing the boys beginning to make a red solo cup tower. Jun is laughing loudly at Mingyu’s focused expression of trying to make the cups stand on each other at just the right position. Seungcheol is taking a sip of soju as he watches Seungkwan try and take over on making the tower.

He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt with tight ripped blue jeans. His hair is fluffy, as if it just dried from a shower. You find yourself getting too caught up in checking out your boyfriend, that you fail to notice that Soonyoung has noticed you.

“Oh! Yn and Hyejin here!” He announces, making Seungcheol immediately lookup and find you. He looks around the kitchen for a moment before locking eyes with you, and his eyes widen at your attire because sweet baby jesus.

Hyejin chose the form fitting satin dress from your closet. It’s a royal blue with pink flowers printed on it, accentuating your body. You’re wearing short heels because you can’t walk in heels for the life of you, you only have minimal makeup on. Brown eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss.

“Holy shit.” Seungcheol mutters, wanting to reach out and take you into his arms but he can’t. Minghao looks at him and lets out a small giggle, knowing that the poor guy is struggling.

“Hi guys!” You greet cheerfully, and the guys abandon their solo cup tower to give you and Hyejin a big group hug. Minghao, and Jeonghan stay beside Seungcheol to make sure those in the kitchen don’t notice that Seungcheol was the only one who didn’t hug you.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Jun says, giving you a pat on the head. Hyejin walks over to Seungkwan and Mingyu who are back to working on the tower.

“Hyejin practically dragged me here honestly. By the way, do you have water?” You ask him and he nods, pointing over to where Seungcheol is. You notice the pack of water bottles beside Seungcheol on the counter he’s leaning on. “Nice, I’ll come help with that tower in a second.” You tell him and he chuckles.

You walk over to where Seungcheol is, and he’s staring at you over the bottle of soju he’s holding in his hands. You smirk at him and he raises an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me Seungcheol.” You tell him as you reach over to grab a water bottle.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He mutters, so quiet that you almost didn’t catch it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You whisper back, turning around and facing him, giving him a smile.

What you fail to notice is Jieun glaring at your interaction with Seungcheol from the kitchen island. However, Hyejin sees it, and she walks over to you to let you know.

“Jieun is glaring at the both of you.” She says once she’s in front of the both of you, and Seungcheol bites the inside of his cheek, turning away from you as soon as it’s mentioned.

“I haven’t even- I just- I didn’t-”

“She’s crazy for Cheol yn, anyone who smiles at him gets the fattest death glare she could muster.” Jeonghan tells you and Hyejin nods in agreement.

“Damn. I hate it here.” You say and you feel Seungcheol giggle at that to your left. You grin as you take a sip of water, almost spitting it out when Soonyoung accidentally knocks half of the tower over.

“You know what, I hate it here too!” Seungkwan exclaims, throwing a solo cup at Soonyoung’s head and storming out of the kitchen. You and Hyejin start laughing as Soonyoung runs after him to apologize.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“Tell me why they think beer pong is so fun?” You ask Chan and he shrugs along with Hyejin. It’s been about an hour and the boys decided to play beer pong. Currently, it’s Seungcheol and Jeonghan against Seungkwan and Seokmin.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan are winning though, as expected.

“I don’t know, but the horny people sure are getting a show.” Chan says, taking a sip of soda as the three of you scan the room, taking notice of all the girls (and a few guys) who are practically salivating at the sight of the four handsome men playing an intense game of beer pong.

Especially Jieun, who is taking a video of Seungcheol specifically. You let out a sigh, standing up from the couch to stretch. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You announce and they nod. You head off to the restroom, only for Seungcheol to raise his arms up in victory at getting the ball into a cup, making you take a couple steps back in shock at how close he was to hitting you.

You’re clumsy in these heels though, so you trip backwards mid-step. Seungcheol notices and his eyes widen, reaching out and wrapping his arms around you before you fall on your ass. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, asking if you’re okay, but your focus is only on the hush that fell over the beer pong audience.

“I-I’m okay Cheol. Thank you.” You say and he nods, only then realizing how quiet the room is. He stands up straight, releasing his arms from around your waist. “Of course yn.” He responds. The boys begin to make an attempt at a joke, and it makes the quietness of the crowd disappear.

You walk off in the direction of the bathroom, feeling eyes on your back. You cross your arms, walking faster. You make it to the restroom, immediately closing and locking the door. You let out a sigh, checking behind the shower curtain to make sure you didn’t walk in on anyone. You relax once you realize you’re alone in the restroom, going to the toilet so that you can finally fucking pee.

Meanwhile, Hyejin is looking around the room, trying to find Jieun, only to not find her. She lets Chan and Jun know, and the three of them start their search around the house to figure out where they went. Hyejin finds Jieun’s friends on the dance floor, but no Jieun in sight. She bites her lip, making her way to the kitchen.

You step out of the restroom after washing your hands, and you make your way back to the living room where the guys are playing beer pong. You push a strand of hair behind your ear as you step back into the living room, catching sight of your boyfriend.

Only for your vision to disappear once a cup of beer gets thrown directly into your face. You scream, covering your eyes, feeling the coldness of the alcohol seep through your dress. Seungcheol immediately turns around at the sound of your scream, eyes widening at the sight.

“What the fuck did I tell you bitch?” You hear Jieun’s harsh voice, and you tentatively uncover your eyes, blinking a few times to regain your vision. She’s literally fuming as she glares at you, crumpling the now empty solo cup in her hand.

“I didn’t do anything.” You say and she scoffs.

“Didn’t do anything? Are you that dumb? I thought you were valedictorian. It’s fucking obvious that you’re flirting with Seungcheol you fucking whore.” She seethes, grabbing a leftover bottle of soju and starting to pour it over your head, causing you to scream and grab the bottle from her hand, directing it away from you.

“The fuck?! Let go, yn!”

“No! You’re being mean for no fucking reason!” You yell, managing to get the bottle out of her grasp. You pour the rest onto the hardwood floor, rolling the bottle away once it’s empty. You look back up at her, then realize everyone is staring at you.

Seungcheol looks ready to throw Jieun away, his veins bulging from his arms. If looks could kill, Jieun would be six feet under right now. The only thing that’s holding him back is Jeonghan, who has a hand resting on his shoulder.

“For no reason?! You’re flirting with Seungcheol! The guy I have a thing with!” She yells, raising her hand up to slap you in the face, to which you grab it, stopping her in her tracks.

“You don’t have a thing with Seungcheol.” You state confidently, looking up at her with an open-mouthed smirk. She glares even harder at you, “What the fuck did you just say? Like you’d know anything outside of fucking school you kissass.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, your hold on her wrist getting tighter and she winces slightly.

“Let go of me!”

“I know you don’t have a thing with Cheol.” You say louder, glancing over at Seungcheol to see him glaring holes into the back of Jieun’s head.

“Because Seungcheol is my boyfriend.” You announce, and you hear a collective gasp from those who are watching this whole thing unfold. Jieun cocks her head to the side, finally ripping her hand out of your grip.

“No fucking way-”

“Yes fucking way you bitch. We’ve been dating for over a year now. We kept it a secret because of people like you,” You spit, poking Jieun right in the chest and she takes a step back, glaring back at you with fire in her eyes. “who think they get a say in whatever the fuck my boyfriend decides to do, and that’s not okay! He’s a fucking human being! Not your toy!” You yell, and you glance down, taking notice of her clenched fists.

“You lying whore!” Jieun raises her hand up to slap you in the face, and before you can grab her arm to stop her,

Seungcheol already has his grip around her wrist. She turns her head, seeing Seungcheol holding her back and she immediately pouts to try and win his favor.

“Cheollie! Can you tell yn she’s being delusional-”

“Are you okay baby?” Seungcheol asks you instead, concern temporarily taking over his once angry features as his eyes rake your figure to assess the damage. You hear the crowd do another collective gasp at the term of endearment.

You grab a hold of your now beer and soju soaked dress, raising up a bit of it to see the alcohol drip onto the floor. You let out a shrug, “I smell like beer and soju, and my body is sticky. It’s kinda gross.” he lets out a small smile.

“Y-you guys are actually t-together?” Jieun asks, and Seungcheol turns his attention back to her, his expression turning steely.

“Yes. We are in fact, together. And I don’t appreciate those that dare lay a hand on my girlfriend.” He says, voice dripping in anger.

“I suggest you take your friends and leave the party while I’m still being nice.” Seungcheol threatens, aggressively dropping her hand. She nods, turning around and walking away.

Seungcheol pulls you into his arms, giving you a tight, warm hug. He apologizes into your ear, rubbing your back as he hugs you tightly. He only lets go once you both hear a screech. You both turn to see Hyejin and the rest of the guys holding now empty solo cups.

“Cheol may have decided to be nice to you, but we aren’t that nice!” They yell and you let out a small chuckle.

“Don’t ever mess with our girl!” Jihoon shouts and Jieun nods frantically, running out of the house with her friends, a trail of beer droplets following after her.

“Can we go home? I need a shower.” You ask Seungcheol and he smiles, kissing your head.

“Of course baby, let’s go home.”

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“I’m kinda nervous.” You say and Seokmin gives you a look. “Why would you be nervous? We’re all here to protect you yn!”

The fifteen of you are all standing by Seungcheol’s car in the school parking lot, trying to help psych you up. It’s basically one giant group huddle where your friends make sure you feel comfortable and ready to enter the school now that you and Seungcheol’s secret is out.

“You have like five of us in your class, it’ll be okay! We got your back yn.” Jeonghan reassures you, and you nod, taking a deep breath. Seungcheol squeezes your hand, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “It’ll be okay, yn. I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt you okay? So will the rest of the guys, especially Hyejin.”

“Hell yeah I will!”

“Alright… let’s do this.” You say determinedly, and everyone cheers. You and Seungcheol walk into the school, the rest of the guys and Hyejin right behind you. Everyone widens their eyes at this, staring specifically at you and Seungcheol’s intertwined hands. Some of the girls are glaring at you, others are smiling happily at the newfound couple of the school.

“Oh my god, the rumors are true!”

“No way…”

“They look so cute together! They’re literally the two stars of the school.”

“He can do so much bette-” Seungcheol shoots a glare at the girl, immediately making her shutdown mid-sentence and look down at the floor.

You guys joke around for a bit before you get put to a stop in front of your classroom, and Seungcheol smiles down at you.

“I’ll see you at lunch yn, stay close to the boys in class okay?” You nod your head. He rests his hand on your cheek, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“EW!!” Wonwoo yells, and you and Seungcheol jump apart, making the rest of the group laugh.

“I’m just kidding, I wanted to scare you both. We’ll save you a seat yn!” Wonwoo says with a chuckle, walking into the classroom with Hyejin, Jeonghan, Mingyu and Jihoon. The rest of the guys wave goodbye as they make their way to their own classrooms, leaving you and Seungcheol alone.

“I’ll see you at lunch Cheollie, I love you.” You tell him with a smile, and he lays a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too, yn.”

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did not sign up for this part 9

so not as polished but it wouldn't shut up. enjoy!

first part here previous part here ao3 here

--

            Ladybug focused on talking to Bunnix first. Why? Bunnix would get the information she needed—one way or another. Perks of time traveler family on your side—a few questions and you get a lot of answers quickly.

            “Bunnix, you saw what was happening to Chat’s suit, right?”

            “Yeah, and uh… might want to restrain him or something until your threat level goes down.”

            Ladybug froze at that. “Explain—now.”

            Bunnix rubbed the back of her neck, looking away from the screen and Ladybug’s gaze. “okay, so long story short, Chat isn’t working with all his abilities.”

             Ladybug sighed as she knew where this was going. “Just like how my suit is too similar to Bridgette’s to be mine, not hers.”

             Bunnix nodded. “I’m not sure if it’s a holdover from the old timeline, or just a Black Cat miraculous thing—family was out of the loop for a gen or two before Grand-père—but if his stories are right, then this won’t calm down until after you’re safe from whatever life-and-death thing sent him off AND he believes it…”

             “Bunnix.” She needed more than that. “What’s happening?”

             “Uh, you know how he’s the only one with a color as part of his name?”

             Ladybug nodded.

              “There’s a reason for it. I don’t know how, timeline hopping side effects and all, but I’m pretty sure that he’s controlling condensed destruction for his Cataclysm, and it’s either leaking—which is bad—or he has some shadow ability. The Chat Noir from Grand-père’s timeline was after his Ladybug to free him from a curse his shadows… well Grandpère changed the timeline a lot for a reason. Whatever happened, haunted him.”

              Ladybug took a deep breath. High threat coming from her partner… “Chat Blanc bad?”

              “Honestly? Chat Blanc is a walk in the park by comparison.”

              Ladybug felt sick.

              “Got it. So what set him off—Murder Robin situation escalating?”

              Bunnix sighed. “Probably when the guy showed up.”

              The building rocked.

              “Gotta go, Bug out!”

              Ladybug snapped her compact shut and ran to where she could feel Chat—another perk of being Ladybug. Always knowing where your other half is when transformed—and sighed in relief when she saw he was hit by Miss Sting before he got anyone.

              Murder Robin was not doing good. Probably. She couldn’t read him.

              “Get him back to Paris and leave him at the museum—secret passage.”

              Miss Sting nodded, grabbing Chat Noir and throwing his frozen form over her shoulder as she ran.

              Green Lantern ran to the room only to see a paralyzed Chat Noir carried by Miss Sting.

              “Should I be worried?’

              Ladybug rubbed her temples.

              “Voyage!”

              “Stay in the library, I’ll fix this.”

              “But—”

              “Please.” Ladybug wanted to scream or cry or something because this is more than too much and overwhelmed would be a welcome change from how she felt at the moment. She was far beyond overwhelmed, in over her head, and whatever other way someone could think up to describe her current situation.

             Green Lantern closed the door for her, walking off.

             “Lucky charm.”

            Why was she given knitting needles? (she missed how Damian’s eyes went wide at the sight of them, something clicking.)

             “Miraculous Ladybug!”

             Ladybugs filled the room, undoing whatever Chat’s cataclysm did to it. it was an old training room, one she hadn’t fixed all the way before…

             A series of training dummies, wooden ‘blades’ (swords, knifes, spear staffs) and a few staffs appeared.

             Ladybug didn’t even say spots off before her timer ran out. Tikki blinked curiously at where they were.

            “Marinette…”

            “Not now Tikki, just, please?”

            Marinette took out a macron from her purse and gave it to the tiny goddess. Tikki took it with a sigh. “Do you want me here for this?”

           Marinette glanced at Murder Robin. Who was tied up, and she could feel had words to say but was going to butcher probably.

           “Private conversation this time. He came after me as me, not Ladybug.”

            Tikki nodded, finishing her cookie in one go.

            “You know how to call me if you want,” Tikki said before phasing through the floor. She likes to check on the plants on the lower levels.

            Marinette took a deep breath. “So, I get the whole rival heir thing and how off-ing rivals is a big thing in history, but uh…” and she forgot where she was going with this. Great.

            “Is it safe to say the flowers were not an adequate apology?”

            Marinette blinked. “What.”

            That was what those were for? Really?

            “The flowers, my teachers said the language of flowers was an important consideration when apologizing, and given your residence I assumed you were not familiar with Arabic, and I doubted your intelligence in English given your grades…”

            Marinette rolled her eyes. “You try being the main hero on-call 24-7 and see how well you do learning your non-sense language. Why didn’t you just say it in French?”

            “That is…” she had a feeling this had backstory he wasn’t wiling to share. “A fair judgment.”

            Marinette took a deep breath, trying to incorporate this tid-bit. Murder Robin was apologizing with the flowers. Which… many levels of ‘who raised this kid?’ and ‘I am assuming child custody’ warring in the back of her mind. He did try to kill her once…

            “And given your lack of defensive abilities, I assumed you would require weapons more suited to your frame, stature, activity level given your social media—”

            “Are you social media stalking me too?”

            “And your boutique. But that’s not the point—I wanted to ensure your safety once better understood that certain things taught to me were wrong. That I was wrong, and I needed to apologize for it.”

            Marinette was seriously debating if this kid was from another timeline. She wouldn’t put it past one of the Kubdels to do it either—the whole family could randomly have a ‘cousin’ appear for a bit to fix something later down the road and no one would be able to tell the difference…

            “So why the daggers?”

            “Mother favored them, I assumed it would be a good weapon of choice for you. I misunderstood your preferences… I hope the rapier is making a fine decoration to your liking at least.”

            “Used it in a few akuma attacks at home actually, so good call there, awkward explanation to Maman and Papa as to why I had one and why I was hiding it.”

            Robin’s face soured a bit. “Yes, Agreste’s… gift.”

            Marinette decided that was a sore spot to examine another time.

            “Yeah, big weapons aren’t my thing.”

            “My mistake. I hope the knives and throwing stars have been to your liking at least.”

            Marinette felt awkward about her (very reasonable) reaction as the (still foreign) information began to shift the picture. Insecure kid with a questionable home life that is in desperate need of socialization… “The ball point pen was a good call—had to add a few decorations to it so I stopped mixing it up. The Swiss army knife is really useful on the days I knew there was going to be too much going on to remember where I put my backup tiny tool kits.”

            Robin nodded at that. “And the throwing stars?”

            “Uh, may have turned a one or two into hair accessories, but haven’t really had the time to test them out with everything.”

            Robin nodded, mulling something over. “Okhti Al Kobra?”

            Marinette looked at him when he spoke, trying to get his meaning(s) and not just the surface. If Alya was there, she’d use her gut. But Marinette’s gut is an overacting jerkface that she refuses to trust at the moment…

            She might ask to borrow Wonder Woman’s lasso later.

            Or see if Alya has leveled up as a Fox enough yet to sense what Marinette needs her to. Maybe she could just borrow Trixx?

            “I haven’t told the others who you are.”

            Marinette paused at that. “But it’s the Ghosts of Gotham, you guys kind of know everything.” And are unofficially the ‘check’ to the superhero community if anyone goes rogue. At least for who the bats met. Crap—is there a file on her too? Maybe she’d ask the LoS if they could destroy hers…

            “I assumed the same. Apparently Father didn’t know about you until Aquaman confronted him on the matter.”

            Oh… oh. Oh! She… she outted herself. great. Wonderful.

            Marinette sighed. “That’s… good. I think.”

            “I doubt they’ve realized who you are yet. If my memory serves, Grandfather said only those most trusted by the God-touched could figure out their secret identities.”

            Marinette was grateful for Trixx’s twist to all miraculous magic, she really is.

            “So safe on that front, for now.”

            “Correct.”

            Marinette had a feeling he had more to say on the matter, and let him find what he had to say.

            “I know your identity, and that compromises you… You may compromise my own. I am Damian Al-Ghul Wayne.”

            Marinette’s brain shorted for a moment and needed time to reboot. And proof… and time to understand what just happened (and get the urge to kidnap this child out of her system. That was. No. Bad. She thinks. Maybe… he’s tiny and doesn’t even have magic protecting him! probably.)

            “Do you mind if I…”

            Robin—Damian. Damian lifted his head and nodded quickly.

            Marinette took off the mask and memorized his face. Shape is congruent with what she remembers of the latest Wayne Heir in a picture when Adrien and Kagami got at the Wayne Galas last year. It was the first time either family was invited.

            She had a feeling Ro—Damian. Damian was behind that… He could have been gathering information, but why? to learn about her, or Kagami who she knows he’s fenced against.

            Kagami who might have put things together and she needs to damage control there next. Great. (What is she the guardian of again? Lately its felt like miraculous wielders and not the kwami.)

            Marinette could sense Rena getting close.

            She put Robin’s mask back on and transformed wordlessly. Tikki must have returned at some point.

            “Can I come in?”

            Ladybug and Robin were in place then. both behind more comfortable masks.

            Ladybug went to the door and slipped into Gaurdian. The chances anyone besides her team knew it were slim… and she’d rather not ask Wonder Woman for her lasso… just in case.

            “Can you do me a favor?”

            “Yeah girl, what do you need?”

            “Just… let me know how you feel about his next answer.”

            At Rena’s nod, Ladybug turned to Robin as she let Rena in.

            “Have you answered my questions truthfully?”

            “Yes.”

            “Did you withhold information you believe to be important?”

            “Not consciously.”

            Ladybug looked at Rena.

            “I…” Rena kept scanning him, looking for something. “Why the…” she trailed off as her eyes went wide. “oh. Oh That happened.”

            Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “Uh, those were very loud whoosh with a bell. I think that means truth, just, wow.”

            And Rena’s ability to sense lies has a new manifestation, good. Downside—Alya will probably have it too and she may have been trying to delay this…Trixx will be happy at least, and no need for lasso of truth.

            “Well, I’ll be back in a bit. Rena, feel free to go home for a bit and rest up.”

            --

            Marinette almost screamed when she got home. She’d only be in her room for fifteen minutes tops—but still.

            Maman and Papa told her they’d be at a catering gig tonight, so she didn’t have to worry about them checking up on her once they left.

            No, she had to worry about the pics she was checking from her feed a year ago… which included Damian’s face for the Wayne Gala.

            She could have been a Wayne.

            She’s not, and she’s not mad just… wow. (Gotham/bullet dodged?)

            Which meant Bruce Wayne is likely Batman, and by order of appearance… Nightwing must be Dick Grayson-Wayne, Red Hood (who makes zombie jokes, like, a lot according to Gotham’s #Batwatch #OnlyinGotham twitter accounts) is probably Jason Todd, who died. Timelines match and she has questions. Many. But then there are more horrible realizations to make. Like Red Robin is probably Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne (does he have a not-first name anywhere in his name?) who she consulted as Marinette and designed a suit for two days ago. And his blonde friend (who was in her bakery. She debated her. just. Fuck.) was probably Spoiler who is the current Batgirl, and if she bothered to check his friends’ list, she’d probably find the girl’s real name. Cass was obviously black bat (only one who doesn’t mouth off in every fight, gave very short responses during their debate but agreed with Marinette so is probably smarter than the rest). Oracle is a mystery (thankfully. She’s certain she’d lose her tech forever if she found out who the woman was and it wasn’t on said woman’s terms).

            Just… a lot to take in.

            Once her parents were gone and Marinette had her brain (mostly) back, she texted Adrien that “latest situation was handled, talk tomorrow.” In response to him trying to make her phone explode with the sheer volume of texts he sent her.

            Not even five minutes later Chat made his way into her room, shadows still rolling. “What happened?”

            “I… long story short? I’m pretty sure he’s been brainwashed or something and Fox’s seal of approval on him telling the truth—he was leaving flowers and weapons as apologies and ‘here, to protect yourself’ things which is kind of sweet in a really, really messed up way that I do not have the capacity to process. He won’t be a problem—I have his secret identity and he has mine—apparently the other Bats haven’t figured it out, and didn’t know about me until I blew up.”

            Chat’s shadows settled on his suit. Returning to the familiar leather pattern. “Really?”

            Marinette nodded. “Really. Its to the point I have to remind myself not to adopt him—he needs help, and I doubt letting tiny child fight is a good thing.”

            “Anything on Bat-threat?”

            A smile twitched on Marinette’s face. “We both know you already checked.”

            Chat grinned at that. “Yeah. Wonder Woman took out four bodies and threw them into those tube thing-ies.”

            Marinette shook her head. “Oh, and you have a new thing that I have to watch for.”

            “Oh, I do?” Chat looked around, examining himself.

            Marinette shook her head at him fondly. “Shadow suit.” Once she had Chat’s attention, she continued. “You were a little…”

            “I’m going to guess not me?”

            “Miss Sting said paranoid in her messages, extra aggressive and then you almost killed brainwashed murder bird.”

            “Are we changing the nickname now?”

            “… honestly I’m debating just calling him a crow at this point. Maybe fix his suit to match so there’s less awful traffic light.”

            “It would be a great public service,” Chat added as he wrinkled his nose. “who makes a child a traffic light.”

            “Apparently the donor.”

            “Donor needs fashion advice.”

            “Can’t, he’d try to ruin mine with a god-awful color scheme, and I refuse.”

            Chat snorted at that. “So, these guys… where do we stand?”

            Marinette hummed. “Sent the ‘not trusting them at all’ back already… I say we keep Robin for now and figure out what the hell made him think murder is okay and if its still encouraged then…”

            “Then we do a ‘this is my many times removed relative who lives here now?’”

            “No. I tell Gina, she gets the documents ready, and then I introduce him as my bio mom’s cousin’s kid and tell them he’s staying in paris and wants to connect.”

            “You do realize his mother probably has a stance on this.”

            “Shhh, cousins.”

            “Shhh, someone is bound to notice.” Chat countered, shaking his head.

            Okay, would gotham notice a Wayne missing? Probably. Would they really try to look for him is the question… and how easy would it be to fool them if they did find him? Maybe have Trixx help with Markov?

            “I doubt he uses social media, so low chance there. He thought everyone knew the language of flowers… I think either he was taken from a cult, the bats are a cult, or both.”

            “I’m leaning to both, why else would he be that level of offensive to fashion?”

            Marinette snorted at that. She has met many fashion disasters that never needed a cult as an excuse.

            --

            Batman was… nervous.

            Wonder Woman was giving him and his kids (minus Damian. Who has not made contact with them yet…) a series of looks that he knew meant trouble.

            “In our defense,” Dick began.

            “There is a baby bat in danger, what were you expecting?” Stephanie continued.

            “And you were the one that thought we should be ready for any contingency,” Tim added while clinging to some unholy combination of energy drinks.

            “Little sister. Needs help.” Cass tacked on. “We help.”

            When eyes turned to Jason, he only gave one explanation: “Kid facing city-wide drownings regularly, brainwashed buddies daily, and superpowers, and extra overt terrorist targeting the kid. What were you expecting?”

            Tim snorted at that. “Me thinks he forgets he taught us how to bend and break rules.”

            Stephanie nodded from her location. “We weren’t told it was no bats, just no Batman.”

            Diana glared at Bruce.

            “By the time I checked their trackers, they were turned off and no longer responding to their communicators.” he had a feeling Agent A or Oracle may have helped them… but no proof.

            Jason rolled his eyes. as they did have a ‘Bat-free’ set of comms—a set of phones they changed just enough that Bruce couldn’t keep track of them and relented to a ‘civilian only’ cells that he would not track, tap, or try to under threat of Babs.

            “We are very independent,” Tim added as he drank his questionable concoction. Bruce didn’t even ask where he got it from at this point.

            Wonder Woman narrowed her eyes. “I am making this clear now—you are not to approach, contact, or even look into Ladybug, her identity or her city’s issues without her explicit permission. Am I clear?”

            There was grumbling from his kids.

            “Crystal,” Batman answered. Once Diana seemed satisfied for the moment, he decided to ask. “Have you heard anything about Robin?”

            Diana paused. “Not yet. When Ladybug has what she needs, she will likely send him back, or ask to keep him in a location she deems secure until this matter has blown over.”

            Bruce didn’t like that. At all.

            His kids didn’t either, each readying for a fight.

            Diana could tell what they were thinking. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Given Ladybug’s age, and that now two of you,” she cast a glare at Jason, “Have threatened her and her team in the mask, I doubt she will be very trusting. Nearly being killed by fellow heroes is not something one gets over very quickly.”

            Tim rolled his eyes. “She’s a bat, give her like, two, three weeks tops. You get over it.”

            Diana shot Bruce, not Batman, but Bruce a look.

            “I was lost in the time stream when that happened.”

            Diana rolled her eyes.

            “To be fair,” Dick added, “Damian has tried to kill most of us at first, me included, but you get used to him.” At Diana’s eyes getting wider, he backtracked. “He’s gotten a lot better since we worked on the Robin code and he’s working on his own. Top of his list was apologizing to those he wronged just… didn’t do it the best way.”

            Tim snorted. “Speak for yourself.” He got a lot of photography equipment and Redbird back… plus a few other things as Damian’s form of apology. The only one he wasn’t that big on was the ‘I will invade your hideout to ensure you are resting properly’ no matter how many times he said he was on black out. It didn’t help that Dick encouraged it and Jason had already been doing that. The only ones who gave him breathing room was Stephanie and Cass, which is why they are his favorites.

            Dick sighed. “He used flowers and weapons on the girl for two years.”

            Diana twitched at that. Ladybug had been twitchy because she thought she was being watched. That… didn’t bode well.

            Bruce made a pained sound. “Please tell me he left a note.”

            “He didn’t.”

            The bats did what they have a habit of doing during these situations. Look at each other, sigh, and maybe drop their head into their hands in shame. Mentally of course. Externally they can’t—gotta keep up appearances and all.

            Jason broke the silence. “So, who’s turn is it to fix it, because not it.”

            “You were disqualified before this started.”

            “Not it!” Stephanie said quicklying.

            “Not it,” Cass agreed.

            “I got it the last time, not it.” Tim added.

            “Batman you were already disqualified,” Diana stated before Dick could avoid being it.

            “Why is it always me?” Dick wanted someone to explain why he’s in charge of every other Bat’s problems. He loves them, he loves helping them, and Damian is his Robin (Bruce can fight him on that, he knows that was Bruce is for himself, he is to Damian).  But it would be great if someone else did this too. “Can’t Babs help?”

            “Who’s taking care of Gotham again?” A voice said over the intercom. “My birds.”

            Dick sighed. “I get it. But I can’t do much from this end.”

            Diana whistled to get the bats to stop. “He will handle this himself.”

            The group shot each other looks. In theory he could, in practice… they wanted their contingencies, okay?

            --

            Marinette transformed and went into the portal, this time with Chat at her side. she noticed the shadows started to move once they got in the temple… she’d need more information on that another time.

            “Behave.”

            Chat rolled his eyes. “Don’t I always?”

            Marinette narrowed her eyes.

            Chat looked away and went into the room from before. Green Lantern had taken to checking up on Robin while they were gone.

            “Should I be worried?” Green Lantern asked.

            Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Chat. “Probably not.”

            She could feel Green Lantern look at her.

            “This isn’t going to stop until he thinks the threat is gone…”

            “Ah.”

            Ladybug glanced between Chat and Mur—Damian. Damian. Damian who had the worst murder apology tactic in history. (Seriously, flowers and weapons. What the hell?)

            Chat walked up to him. “Not going to apologize for protecting my Lady.”

            Robin didn’t seem insulted. “I would have to remove you as her partner if you did.”

            Ladybug almost choked. Shadows were moving more.

            Green Lantern sighed.

            Chat glared. “Well you can’t.”

            “I will not as you have proved to at least have a functional brain. Your skills leave much to be desired, but you are at least capable of adequately protecting my sister.”

            The shadows were settled at least… for now.

            “Why you little!”

            “Robin!”

            “Chat!”

            “What—he started this!”

            Ladybug sighed. She had a feeling these two weren’t going to get along anytime soon.

            “Is that enough for you to get he doesn’t want me dead or anything?” Ladybug asked Chat, keeping an eye on the shadows.

            “For now.”

            “Chat.”

            “Well we don’t have any leverage.”

            “She knows who I am.”

            “What.”

            “I checked.” Ladybug admitted. “He is who he said and I’m sticking with ignoring the implications for another time.” Robin was smiling a bit. and not the murder-y one that haunted her nightmares sometimes. Good. What was she saying? “Oh, and I may have figured out Hawkmoth, but uh, consequences to that reveal would hurt a lot of people if we go in how we wanted to initially. So, I need to work out that plot since telling you may set off the shadows.”

            Chat crossed his arms. “And who is it?”

            Ladybug wanted to rub her temples. But Professional Time. “We both know you and Bunnix have your own things you don’t tell me about things that would be good to know but not good for me specifically. And that’s fine, it keeps Paris safe and our team from having internal issues. So trust me on this kitty. I’ll tell you before it happens. But it will be a lot closer to it happening than you’d like. Just like our usual.”

            Chat… wasn’t happy about that.

            “…fine.”

            Robin watched the exchange. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to offer at the moment, but…

            “Would it be acceptable if my family offered to help?”

            Green Lantern gave him a look.

            “You have seen our credentials.”

            Ladybug wanted to scream again. just a bit.

            “I have a way, probably, and am not in the mood for American take-overs.”

            Robin thought for a moment. “I could ask mother. She won’t tell father if I ask.”

            “And we trust that why?” Chat asked, shadows not dancing off his suit... but not still either. Interesting… she’d really have to look into this with the scrolls when she gets a chance.

            “Mother and Father have… fundamental disagreements.”

            Chat and her looked at each other, then Damian. They had a feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

            “And how do we,” Chat gestured at himself and Ladybug, “know we can trust her. I barely trust you.”

            Robin was quiet.

            Ladybug was tired. “Look, I can see if maybe the League is a good fit for this.”

            Green Lantern looked up at that. “Batman would find a way to access it.”

            Ladybug took a deep breath. “Not that one, uh, League of Shadows. Old branch that went rogue, but leader is an immortal and was supposedly a top choice for Black Cat for a while.” Until his partner got caught in a trap on a mission and sort of ended up becoming some death cheat. Ladybugs and Black cats are always trained in pairs. One is unfit, the other can’t continue with training. Not that the Green Lanterns needed to know that…

            Robin was staring at her, and seemed… no felt nervous. Not showing it though. “Then you’d be meeting mother or Grandfather then... They go by the League of Assassins now.”

            What even is her luck at this point? (Probably his first cult, and ancient overzealous ally of the Order… she was beginning to think it’s a good thing its going to be rebuilt from the ground up as yikes.)

            “Is it acceptable if I accompany you? They’re not,” Robin was struggling to find the right word. “good with heroes or non-adults.”

            Ladybug sighed. Chat narrowed his eyes, but his shadows were staying put.

            “You can stay until after the meeting and plan is hashed out, but no passing it on to Batman, okay?”

            “Understood.”

            Why did it feel like she had a million things to do still? This would be much easier if she had her team, well, whole, instead of missing two miraculous. One of which she still had to fix… she hopes Sparrow is okay with helping on that still…

            And she has a damn test tomorrow… Maybe Mandeliev will give her extra time since she was made news as Marinette being stalked by Robin?

            ---

DONE! This was a long update, and Damian and Marinette are awkwardly trying but uh, understandably, Marinette still has a lot going on and no time to process since her life is a mess with or without the Bats invading. Lets not forget, she still has tests at school because life on top of the crazy that’s been tacked on recently.

Oh. And apparently Talia wants to be involved, so that’s a Thing. Rah may or may not want to show up, I kind of just roll with it. feel free to add to insanity as always, since the group decided to tie up somethings... but not everything.

Marinette may know, but batfam doesn't. only damian does. who is still not back.

Also, thanks to those noticing plot hole fixes and tags are basically open until its a wall of tags.

again, if anyone find out how to insert/add a readmore, feel free to message or leave a comment.

TAGS:  @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace@jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack

[csnews]

Innovative New Whale Detection System Aims to Prevent Ships From Striking Animals

Alex Fox, September 17, 2020

Southern California is home to the busiest port complex in the U.S. Nearly 500 ships passed through the 24-mile-wide Santa Barbara Channel en route to the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach in August alone. The same strip of water also hosts droves of giant whales. In summer, over the course of a single day, whale watching outfits routinely spot as many as 15 blue whales, many nearly 100 feet long, feeding in the channel alongside humpback whales and thousands of dolphins. This overlap creates an environment where ships sometimes strike and kill endangered blue, humpback and fin whales. The last two years have set successive records for the most whales killed by ship strikes off the California coast, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), with 21 whales dying by the hulls of ships in 2018 and 2019 combined.

And researchers say that’s likely to be just a fraction of the true death toll. A 2017 paper published in the journal PLOS One estimated that more than 80 endangered whales are killed by ships each year along the U.S. West Coast. The same paper suggests NOAA and whale researchers may only find between 5 and 17 percent of the whales whose bodies have been broken by the bow of a ship, because their corpses tend to sink to the bottom rather than washing ashore. The fatal collisions scientists do record are often grisly. Many times a vessel will coast into port unaware of the pulverized whale draped across its bow. The ships are so large, many are 15 stories tall and more than 1,000 feet long, that they typically have no idea what’s happened until they reach port.

“I’ve seen the damage that a ship strike can do and it’s massive and traumatic,” says Nick Pyenson, the Curator of Fossil Marine Mammals at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History and author of the book Spying on Whales. “I’ve seen fractures that run clear across a 20-foot skull, jaw bones that have been snapped and cracked. If it’s not immediate death it’s horrific suffering that typically ends in death.”

Now, a team of researchers is launching an innovative new whale detection system called Whale Safe in Southern California waters to help mariners avoid collisions with the marine mammals and to grade shipping companies on their whale safety. The system produces daily alerts informing subscribers how likely ships are to encounter whales in the Santa Barbara Channel as well as a web-based interactive map showing the locations of individual whale detections. The team has shared the tool with key shipping companies, and officials at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach who are expected to share news of the launch.

The goal of Whale Safe is to provide mariners with the best, most up-to-date information available and to create more awareness, says Doug McCauley, a marine scientist at the University of California Santa Barbara (UCSB) and director of its Benioff Ocean Initiative, which is launching and funding the project in collaboration with other research institutions. “These are 100-year-old animals that are ecosystem engineers carrying around thousands of trees worth of carbon and they’re being run over out there,” he says. “We want to help incentivize the people and companies who want to do the right thing to actually do it and be recognized for it.”

Whale Safe creates a near real-time map of where whales are swimming and how likely ships are to encounter them using data from three cutting-edge sources. First, a buoy equipped with an underwater microphone listens for whale songs in the Santa Barbara Channel and uses an algorithm to automatically identify the calls of humpback, fin and blue whales before beaming the detection to a satellite. Second, trained observers and citizen scientists use a smartphone app to report whale sightings from boats. Third, a newly developed mathematical model uses information gleaned from years of blue whale tagging studies and the latest oceanographic data (such as sea surface temperature and ocean currents) to predict where blue whales are most likely to be.

These three streams of data are all integrated in a single streamlined platform accessible via the web. “The combination of methods is ideal,” says Jaime Jahncke, a marine scientist at Point Blue Conservation Science who was not involved in the Whale Safe project. “Acoustic detection alone is not perfect and modelling alone is not perfect but the combination makes it much more robust. The multiple layers of data help give mariners the clearest picture of where whales are and could make Whale Safe very effective if mariners use it.”

In their preliminary conversations with shipping companies, McCauley says the Whale Safe team has gotten a lot of interest, but no commitments to use the platform right out of the box. Most companies want to take a look at the website and the alerts and see how the whole thing works before taking it on board.

“Nobody wants to hit a whale so whatever we can do to mitigate that we’re excited to pursue,” says John Berge, a vice president with the Pacific Merchant Shipping Association. “More and better data is always an improvement. Having a better idea of where whales are and their concentrations at certain times of year will allow ships to make more dynamic speed and routing decisions.”

Following its launch today, Whale Safe could see a wide range of user groups, says Morgan Visalli, a marine scientist at UCSB who led the Whale Safe project. Curious scientists or members of the public might peruse the locations of whales off their coast, while port officials or the U.S. Coast Guard may decide to push out alerts to ships in their area based on whale detections made by the system. In the case of the shipping industry, Visalli says some companies have indicated it would work best for them if an operations manager on shore signs up to receive the data, and then disseminates it amongst their fleet. Visalli adds that the Whale Safe team is anxious for feedback once more mariners are able to interact with the system.

Some parts of the Whale Safe are already in use in other parts of the world. Acoustic whale detection systems are in use on the East Coast of the U.S. and an app called Whale Alert has been mapping the locations of sightings by humans on the West Coast since 2014. But Whale Safe is the first platform to bring all the best available, near real-time data on whales under one digital roof. Sean Hastings, the resource protection coordinator for NOAA’s Channel Islands National Marine Sanctuary, says Whale Safe combines layers of data in a matter of hours that might have once taken his team up to a month to merge.

In the Santa Barbara Channel, where Whale Safe’s efforts are concentrated, shipping lanes have been shifted to avoid whales and what’s known as a voluntary speed reduction zone was put into effect in 2007 in response to the deaths of five blue whales killed by ship strikes in just a few months. These voluntary speed limits currently request that ships slow down to 10 knots during whale season, which usually runs from May to November. But even after a more than a decade on the books and various incentive programs only 44 percent of ships slowed down on their way into the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach in 2019. Near San Francisco Bay, cooperation is only slightly better at around 50 percent.

Berge says the ships that don’t slow down may be more concerned with adhering to a strict schedule, may be unfamiliar with local regulations or may in fact be slowing down, just not all the way to 10 knots. “I like to think that continual outreach on this topic will continue to boost the compliance,” he says.

Scientists say slowing down makes the impacts that do occur less deadly and may give the whales and the ships a better opportunity to avoid the collision in the first place. “I think of whales as being like giant kids,” says McCauley. “If they’re wrapped up in feeding and socializing, they’re not focused on looking out for ships. We ask cars to slow down around schools to keep kids safe, and these speed restrictions for whales are the same idea.”

Research suggests mandatory slow down zones aimed at protecting the critically endangered North Atlantic right whale have had some positive results. A forthcoming paper by researchers with Point Blue estimates that if 95 percent of ships slowed down in the voluntary speed reduction zones off San Francisco it could decrease humpback and blue whale deaths by as much as 30 percent.

Many whale species have made historic recoveries after being nearly exterminated by human hunting, but those recoveries aren’t bulletproof. When it comes to endangered blue whales in the eastern Pacific, even one whale is significant. “NOAA’s most recent assessment for blue whales says that if we lose more than one animal each year, which we do, then we’re not meeting our population growth targets,” says Hastings.

Whale Safe will be issuing report cards for shipping companies based on their vessels’ cooperation with the voluntary speed reduction zone that NOAA seasonally activates in the Santa Barbara Channel in hopes of reducing fatal ship strikes. Whale Safe uses public location data transmitted by special transponders on ships to calculate their speeds and judge whether they slow down when they’re steaming through the whales’ dining room.

Though the results are only now available to the public, Whale Safe has already produced some assessments for shipping companies’ adherence to the slow-down zones in 2020. The world’s second largest shipping company, Mediterranean Shipping Company, gets an “A.” Its vessels slowed down to the requested ten knots in the voluntary speed reduction zones 94 percent of the time. Meanwhile, Ocean Network Express, the sixth largest shipping company in the world, gets a “D” for only backing off on the throttle for whales 35 percent of the time.

McCauley points out that if the system helps motivate more vessels to slow down for whales, humans will reap benefits too. When ships slow down they burn less fuel, which cuts down on their planet-warming greenhouse gas emissions and the release of pollutants like nitrogen and sulphur oxides.

Hastings says Whale Safe could also help inform other interventions like amending the paths of the shipping lanes themselves or extending the envelope of speed reduction zones. If Whale Safe proves effective during its first year of deployment, the Bay Area could be its next stop. But the biggest question surrounding the project’s ability to make an initial impact is whether it results in more ships reducing their speed when whales are present.

“I’m hopeful that the added confidence that Whale Safe will bring to say ‘Hey there really are whales here today’ will encourage more shipping companies to slow down,” says Hastings. “But it also provides resource managers like myself with amazing data to assess whether these speed reductions should become mandatory. Because while we’re grateful for the cooperation we’ve gotten with the voluntary speed reduction program so far, it’s not good enough.”

[n7inky-fanfics]

One Day at a Time

The destruction of the Reapers did not mean galactic peace. While the treaties Shepard had brokered during the war remain mostly intact, there is no shortage of pirates, criminals, gangs, and terroristic organizations bent on creating chaos and destruction. The Council began directing their Spectres towards overseeing and protecting reconstruction efforts and maintaining peace. Now that scientists are close to unlocking the key to repairing the mass relays, the galaxy has settled into unease. No one knows if crime will get better or worse with the relays back online. All factions are getting agitated, and more fighting is breaking out.

Sometimes, Kaidan pities the poor soul on the wrong end of Shepard's gun. More than once, he has heard all sorts of people shout something along the lines of "Oh shit, it's Shepard!" as they realized they were about to die. Shepard is a skilled soldier who dominates the battlefield with equal parts strength and grace. Fighting alongside her can be almost beautiful in an odd and violent sort of way, especially when she used her biotics. It took her almost a year of practice fighting on her military grade prosthetic leg, but she has now found that grace on the battlefield again. In the end, her skills and her career could not be taken by the Reaper War. The galaxy kept its greatest protector.

Today, they are both back on Mars, of all places, fighting a remnant of Cerberus that is attempting to steal more data from the archives. If intel is correct, their goal is to find weapons they can use "for the betterment of humanity", which is their way of saying anti-alien terrorism. Kaidan does have to admit that some part of him enjoys taking down pieces of Cerberus. After all the horrible things he's seen them do, including all that they have put Shepard through, he's glad to eliminate every last cell in the galaxy. It's a worthy career goal.

As the smoke clears, Shepard begins checking the bodies for data pads, hoping to find anything to indicate how many of them are at the archives and what their exact plans are. After all, if this was just an outdoor lookout team, there's bound to be more already inside. She freezes as she reads one of the data pads. Kaidan can barely see her face through her helmet, but her reaction to the data pad can't be good. "Shepard, what is it?"

She clears her throat and says calmly "It's not pertinent to the mission. Let's move on." She drops the data pad and continues towards the entrance. Kaidan trusts Shepard, but curiosity gets the better of him and he glances down at the data pad as he passes by. It currently displays the owner's profile. He can see an image that he guesses matches the body they found it on and a name. "Andrew Mason".

As they enter the archive, they happily find a distinct lack of civilian and scientist casualties. This time, intel learned of the plan early and decided to evacuate the scientists and ship in more soldiers. Unfortunately, Cerberus still puts up a good fight and many of the Alliance soldiers were injured or killed before the Spectres arrived (travel between systems takes more time now that the relays are gone). Shepard hops on to the nearest terminal and accesses the system logs. "Ah, here it is. Someone opened an archive five minutes ago. We can take the tram there."

"Perfect. Maybe this time we'll make it through without getting shot at." Immediately after making the joke, Kaidan winces at the realization that bringing up their last mission on Mars might not be a good idea. Sure, they've worked everything out, but it still could be a touchy subject. He was pretty cruel to her last time, before he almost died in front of her.

"Doubtful." Shepard laughs lightly as they board the tram.

They ride quietly for a moment before Kaidan asks "So, will I get to know who Andrew Mason is?"

"Maybe later. Now's not the time."

"Fair." Kaidan says. He smiles at her, hoping she can see it through the helmet. His is much more open and visually blocks less of the face. Shepard's preferred gear usually allows less visibility, but it also has fewer structural weak points. He noticed a change in her treatment of her armor not too long after he got back on the Normandy, but he's never said anything. Without asking, he already knows why Shepard chooses armor with the most reinforced environment system, and why she carefully and almost obsessively maintains it. He would, too, in her shoes.

He refocuses himself on the task at hand as they begin approaching their destination. They've almost made it when a Cerberus soldier begins firing at the car. They both take cover behind the wall and the dance begins yet again. As the car docks, Shepard throws up a barrier and runs out, shooting at several men in a row as she charges to cover. Kaidan focuses on the heavy trooper slowly approaching from a distance and Reaves. Together, they feed off each other's energy. The can move in sync, watching each other's sixes and supporting each other throughout the entire battle. Before long, the docking zone falls silent as the battle ends.

They take turns clearing doors until they finally get to the archive. They take cover on either side of the door. He opens it carefully, and Shepard immediately swings around to cover him with her pistol. The immediate entryway is surprisingly empty. Shepard gestures for him to follow, then slowly and quietly moves inside the room until they reach a sharp turn. She takes cover against the wall and peers around the corner, gun at the ready. As soon as she does, she is thrown backwards by a large biotic force. Her gun fires before she even hits the wall. Kaidan swings around and unleashes a singularity that pulls the target into the air. Shepard fires again, making several headshots that eventually pierce the armor and hit their mark.

"Thanks for the cover, Alenko." She says, her smile coming through in the sound of her voice. She pats him on the back and pushes further into the room, where the target had been collecting data onto a drive. She plugs the data into her omnitool and runs it through analysis softwares. Liara would be able to tell them more, but it appears that intel was correct. They had been here for advanced weapons blueprints. Shepard begins forwarding the information back to the Normandy, then turns to head back to the LZ. Kaidan follows her.

Getting back to the Normandy and conferencing with Admiral Hackett is no big deal. After the verbal debriefing, they retire to her cabin to write their mission reports. Kaidan's ship, the SSV London (named for the Battle of London that ended the Reaper War), is still getting it's final touches before he'll be able to take it out on a shakedown run, so he rode along with Shepard for this mission and their last several. As they settle into the couch with their tea and data pads, he can't help but smile. This is a good life, one he hadn't expected to attain. Every day, sometimes several times a day, he still finds himself thankful that they had found Shepard after the Crucible. When the Alliance had formally declared her missing in action, with the caveat that she was most likely dead, Kaidan refused to lay down and wait for them to declare her death. He contacted Hackett with an emergency QEC on the Normandy and told him that until they found a body, Shepard was to be considered alive and in need of assistance. They all owed that to her. Seeing her here and now, living her life with him, is something he is grateful for every day.

As Kaidan is putting the final touches on his report, Shepard sets her data pad on the table and walks to her shower, stripping off articles of clothing as she goes. He fumbles over the keyboard, leaving a line of text that reads "ghdhshgdg" as he watches her go. Knowing that he's watching, she calls "finish your report first, and then you can join me." He deletes the line of typos, hurriedly wraps up the report, and follows her for an enjoyable interlude.

Their activities eventually end with them cuddling in her bed. She lay with her head resting gently on his chest, her hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on through his chest hair. He has one arm around her back and gently brushing strokes down her upper arm. He can feel her back subtly rise and fall with her breath. They lay this way for a while before he feels a slight dampness on his chest, where her head is. "Hazel, are you okay?" he asks, looking down at her. Her face is buried in him. She stifles a sob, and he feels the shift in her breathing as she forces herself to cry silently. He wraps his arms around her tighter. "Sweetheart, whatever it is, I've got you." Slowly, she pulls herself back and looks at him. He reaches up to her and gently wipes the tears from her cheeks. She pulls herself into a sitting position against the headboard, and he follows so that they are sitting side by side.

She leans her head on his shoulder and quietly says "You asked about Andrew Mason?"

"Yeah. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I knew him... from before the Alliance." she ends the sentence at barely a whisper. Her shoulders tense and she looks down at the floor. "He was one of the younger kids in the Reds before I left." He gently reaches for her hand and takes it in his as she continues. "I heard he'd gotten out, that he'd joined the Alliance some time after my death. I had hoped he'd do well and go far, but it didn't work that way. I checked his records when we got back to the ship. His team got ambushed by some pirates about seven months before the Reapers invaded. He was discharged honorably for medical reasons, for PTSD. I guess that's when Cerberus got to him."

"Hazel, I'm so sorry." he says.

"The hell of it is that I can see myself in that kid. In what he came from, in his escape. What if I somehow influenced his decision to leave like that? How many kids joined after hearing fantastical stories about my life, only to be swooped up by Cerberus when the Alliance didn't live up to their expectations or to die in battle before they got the chance to reconsider?"

"Hey, stop that. It's not your fault, Hazel."

"How many people died because of me? Will continue to die because of me? Because I failed?" Her voice cracks and she lets out a shuddering breath.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Backup. Failed at what?"

"I couldn't save them all. I can never save them all."

"Hazel, stop. Look at me." He gently places his hand under her chin and guides her to look at him. "You are not responsible for every person in the galaxy. You've spent far too much of your life fighting galactic wars practically on your own. Enough is enough. We stopped the Reapers. Now, we just do what we can to make things a little better. One day at a time, okay?"

She nods and he pulls her into a tight embrace. "One day at a time." She sniffles.

[arolla-pine]

I, Marinette - p.2

(2) – Physics

I left the Dupain-Cheng bakery in a hurry. Of course, I had to hug Tom who gave me some pastries for brunch. I thought he’d crushed all my bones while he hugged me but surprisingly I was OK. I suspected I was protected by one of the rules of this unreal universe.

Traffic lights stopped me for good, so I had to run as fast as I could to get the school on time. Somehow, I managed to enter the François Dupont courtyard at the moment of the school bell ringing.

“Here you are!” I heard somewhere around.

Alya.

Of course.

How could it be otherwise?

“Hi…” I breathed.

“We’d better hurry up, because I’d prefer not to be examined in physics.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s better not to be noticed…” I nodded and reminded myself to sit quiet and not to put Marinette into trouble.

Alya ran towards the class, and I followed her astonished with her red hair which was quite impressive. If we were to stage “Harry Potter, she should get Hermione’s part. Wait a minute! Had I just thought “if we were…”? It looked like I got into character too seriously…

When we entered the classroom, the teacher wasn’t there yet. Lucky me! I forgot to feel relief, because I was too shocked. Sweet mother! The Mrs. Mendeleiev classroom! A real laboratory – if you could use the word “real” in relation to a cartoon… I could see students sitting at desks – all Miraculous characters with Chloe Bourgeois in a front row. She was watching me with a wry smile on her face. What a masterpiece of pride and disgust! I felt like writing a story with her as a main character! I checked the rest of students and when I noticed lack of Lila Rossi, I sighed with relief. She was the only one that I would be afraid of.

I saw Nino and Adrien smiling. Right…

“Marinette…” Alya whispered significantly.

Oh, God! I was standing in the centre of the classroom and staring at people! What a blunder! I felt that my cheeks became red, so I lowered my head and rushed to my place. I couldn’t miss Chloe’s snort:

“Clumsy-Cheng…”

I should definitely write a story about Chloe. And that would be my first angst ever! With the main character’s death. That perspective helped me right away.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it!” Nino started, because Mrs. Mendeleiev hadn’t come yet.

“I was waiting for Marinette…” Alya explained. “You have to leave home earlier, girl! You’re always late!”

“I couldn’t get rid of my parents…” I muttered. “Too much hugs…”

Alya looked at me astonished, Nino cleared his throat uncomfortable. I kicked myself virtually. Marinette was never mocking, especially when it came to her parents!

“I think your parents are the best!” Adrien said, glancing at me with a smile.

So, here he was! A golden boy with green sparkles in his eyes. And with a loving smile for his “just a friend”… Riiight…

At first, I was surprised that I didn’t faint or something like that. Oh, come on! I was looking at the love interest of half of school. Forget a school! Of half of the city! And I felt nothing. Zero. Then I remembered that I’m older than them. And my heart was already taken for good. So, there was nothing weird in me not falling for him. Yet, I realised that if I stayed here for long I could unintentionally ruin Adrienette ship. Actually, I could ruin the whole LoveSquare…

“They’re the best!” I replied to Adrien, hoping that my friends would forget my previous comment. I had to be more careful!

The teacher finally entered the classroom, so we had to end our conversation. I felt relief and stress at the same time. On one hand, I could relax because pretending Marinette in front of her best friends wasn’t easy at all. On the other hand, I became anxious about the classes because I was unprepared.

“Today we’re going to talk about the Solar System!” Mrs. Mendeleiev announced.

I couldn’t believe how lucky I was! I always loved tv programmes about the space, I had some books about it at home. When I had been at school I took part in some contests. So, even if I was questioned I should be able to answer correctly and Marinette wouldn’t get a bad grade. I could relax…

Too early… The teacher began her lecture in so boring way, that after five minutes half of students fell asleep. How could she kill such an interesting topic?! I’d bet I’d be better! But I stayed quiet, because I remembered to stay invisible. I needed to be extra patient because Mendeleiev’s lecture frustrated me more and more…

Finally, the teacher realised that her students didn’t listen to her at all, so she changed the tactics. She decided to start asking questions to activate the students.

“Who knows which planet of the Solar System has a rotation in the opposite direction to the rest of planets?” she asked with a smile like she found some extra news for us.

“Venus…” I mumbled, knowing the answer before she finished her question.

“Very well, Miss Dupain-Cheng!” the teacher was impressed.

I caught Alya’s surprised glance and heard some whispers behind my back. I remembered that Marinette wasn’t good in physics. My bad… I liked this subject.

“Venus is a very interesting planet because Venusian year is shorter than Venusian day.” Ms. Mendeleiev continued.

I focused on staying quiet and on keeping my knowledge for myself. I still forgot that I was older than the rest of students (and a nerd by the way)… Thankfully, I heard Chloe’s snort that reminded me that fact:

“Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! A year shorter than a day?!”

‘Poor girl…’ I sighed to myself. ‘Do you have any idea what means a year or a day?’

“Who knows what means a year and a day for a planet?” Mrs. Mendeleiev asked.

Geez! I wanted to start chewing my desk! Suddenly, I understood why Hermione Granger had to answer every teachers’ question. ‘Please, let someone say something…” I prayed. I was too old for school!

“A day is time needed to rotate about its axis, and a year is time needed to orbit the Sun.” Adrien answered and I could relax.

“Perfect, Mr. Agreste!” the teacher was satisfied. “So, Venus rotates about its axis longer than it orbits the Sun. As you can see, this planet is unusual among the Solar System planets. Do you know how many planets we have in the Solar System?”

I thought I couldn’t be more frustrated, but I was wrong. I started drawing the Solar System in my tablet just to stay quiet. This lesson was like a nightmare!

“Eight.”

Adrien. Again. Thank goodness, this boy had some extra classes after school. The teacher had a partner for a discussion. And I didn’t eat myself…

“For many years the scientists believed that there were nine planets in the Solar System.” Mrs. Mendeleiev continued. “However, after some research they decided to exclude one from this list. Does anyone know…?”

“Pluto…” came out from me, before I realised. ‘That’s what happens when I’m frustrated…’

“Perfect!” The teacher didn’t try to hide her surprise, and I could congratulate myself on being an idiot.

At that moment we heard a school bell. No one stood up nor collected their belongings. Apparently, Mrs. Mendeleiev – not a school bell – announced the end of classes.

“For the next time all of you will prepare a paper about one of the Solar System planets. Miss Dupain-Cheng and Mr. Agreste don’t have to write anything because they proved their knowledge during the lesson. The class is dismissed!”

After this announcement everyone began gathering their tablets. I followed the example. By the way, I heard Chloe complaining to Sabrina:

“It’s not fair that Dupain-Cheng doesn’t have to write the paper! She didn’t answer any question only mumbled something under her breath. Besides, how did she know that? I’m sure she was cheating! Or Adrien told her! Why didn’t you prompt me, Adrikins?” she asked the boy.

“I didn’t prompt Marinette.” Adrien replied and turned to me: “I didn’t know you like astronomy.”

Damn it. I was sure that Marinette knew as much about the Solar System as about Cat Noir’s identity! Why hadn’t I sat quiet?! Come on, Lena! Say something! You’re intelligent, I heard…

“I don’t know… Recently I’ve seen a programme about the space. So, probably I remembered something…”

“That’s what I call being lucky!” Nino commented when we left the classroom. “You don’t have to write anything… Alya? Do you know what planet you want to write about?”

“I suggest Venus and Mars for you two.” I said, before I bit my tongue.

“Why those?” Alya asked surprised.

“W-well… it’s been said that women are from Venus and men are from Mars…” I stuttered.

“Who’s said that?”

“I don’t know… Some people?”

“I’m taking Mars!” Nino yelled. “Which one is it?”

Geez! What did they teach those kids?! I focused on being silent, because Marinette couldn’t become an expert in physics overnight.

“Maybe you should check in books?” I suggested.

“Google is faster.” Alya ignored my stupid comment. “The question is if Professor Mendeleiev will accept a paper about Venus. You know, we talked a lot about it today, so… Yeah… I should take something else. What planets are there?”

“Earth…” I mumbled.

The three friends froze and stared at me in amazement. I felt uncomfortable. I looked around and noticed that luckily there was no one next to us.

“I… I mean… You know… Earth is one of the Solar System planets, isn’t it?” I explained uneasy.

“You’re so right, Marinette!” Adrien laughed and broke the spell. “How’s it possible I didn’t thing about the same?!”

“But you don’t have to write a paper…” I reminded.

“Nevertheless… I’ve started thinking about which planet I would choose. And I didn’t think about Earth at all! Brilliant, Marinette!”

“Thanks…” I mumbled and smiled embarrassed.

Adrien’s words only made me aware how far from my plan of being invisible I was. Instead of sitting quiet I turned Marinette into a physics genius! I could sum up the first lesson as Miss Dupain-Cheng with one word: a failure.

—

I, Marinette - p.1  <-  Previous part  |  Next part ->  I, Marinette - p.3

[teeforhee]

Fuck, I'm not sure I'll ever get over how much CAMHS (child and adolescent mental health service, it's the under-18s mental health service in Scotland) let me down as a kid.

It's like this. You're 11 and you're traumatised but you're scared of using that word, you don't know if you're allowed it, but you are traumatised. And you're so anxious you can't breathe most of the time, you can't sit down and speak to any of your friends, you can do your school work but you keep falling apart and everything feels like it's getting worse all the time. You don't fit in, you're weird and awkward but your schoolwork is good so you aren't worrying about your grades, you're not even sure why you feel this way (it's unprocessed trauma, but again, you don't feel like you're allowed that word). You're s/hing and struggling with suicidal ideation, and you're lucky enough to still trust authority figures, so you do what everyone says you should. You trust an adult. And she calls your GP, who is another adult you choose to trust, who you bare your heart to with all of these symptoms that make your feel sick to even acknowledge, and then they make you an appointment with CAMHS. You came in asking for treatment. They referred you to CAMHS. They did not explain what CAMHS was other than what the letters stood for. That's okay - it's treatment, right? They're gonna help. You can talk this through and they'll help- just gotta be careful you don't get institutionalised. You don't want that, yet.

You talk to a CAMHS worker. She's a psychologist. She says it's very likely you have autism to your mother after your first session. Your mother broaches the topic gently. You are overjoyed: there's an answer! oh fuck, this explains so much! but it's not treatment. It's a word. The psychologist puts you on a waiting list and you have 22 sessions of CBT with her, trying to unpack your trauma and trying to build up coping skills. So many of them feel like just denying the truth, so many of them feed into your magical thinking ("the one thing you can control is your thoughts, you must always control your thoughts, good things will happen when you control your thoughts and stop thinking the bad thoughts"), but it's treatment, mostly. You stop seeing her twice- once because you are trying to develop an eating disorder and having a mental health professional who wants to hear how you're doing is totally cramping your style (I wasn't actually trying to develop an ED really, I was trying to cope in ways other than s/h, in ways that felt honest to the situation and real and gave me a sense of control that "controling my thoughts" just wasn't doing). You come back for recovery. You tell her you want an eating plan. By the time she even considers an appointment with a nutritionist, you've moved past that stage in your recovery on your own. You stop seeing her again because you get into an abusive relationship who doesn't really like you having contact with people who aren't him, and he super super doesn't like you not being able to talk to him for a whole hour every week. That part isn't their fault: no one could be gotten me out of that until I decided to; believe me, everyone around me tried, and it didn't work until I wanted I to, the third time.

But I left, again, I was without support for 6 months, and when I came back it was after my father (the earliest source of my trauma) had died. They take 4 sessions compiling evidence as to what treatment i needed going forward, without telling me that was what they were doing (I was trying to build trust with an adult again after 6 months of constant reinforcing that I couldn't trust anyone but my abuser), and then an appointment with a psychiatrist and your mother and a new psychologist. They dismiss and justify the symptoms that most worry me, they have at this point turned down my request to be institutionalised multiple times (including after an aborted suicide attempt, I presume they thought that was fine because made it clear that I did want to live), and they say at the end of the meeting that they are going to give me an official diagnosis of autism and that after that CAMHS has nothing more to offer me.

They say that if after 22 sessions with a psychologist I am still struggling so much (bear in mind that probably close to half of those sessions I was concealing factors that were actively making my mental health worse and which were traumatising me) I clearly can't gain anything more from their service, and anyway, autism isn't a mental illness and CAMHS as a service can only help while waiting for/trying to get a diagnosis, or if you have a diagnosis or a disorder for which they could provide specialist treatment. My very obvious PTSD? nah, no big-T Traumas, and c-ptsd is way too hard to diagnose. I receive a hilarious letter detailing all of the evidence (I mean genuinely insightful but also fucking hilarious and I do want to note down funniest bits and post them hear at some point, stuff like "unusual speech was noted, (exclamations of 'wacky!' while describing his symptoms)") and then they refer me to a charity which, at time of writing, I have had 1 assessment phone call with, and am waiting for a call back for my next and first proper appointment.

They did not inform me when I was first referred that CAMHS is a diagnostic and specialist treatment service and if they did (this was well over two years ago now, I don't remember word-for-word what my GP told me), they did not tell me that meant that they would kick me out to a charity once they figured they couldn't label me with anything requiring specialist treatment. During our last sessions they were unyeildingly focussed on the trauma of my father dying and of the "shock" of my diagnosis (that I had been waiting for for 2 years. yes, very shocking/s) when those were not my biggest problems. My relationship with my father is complex and I won't get into it here, but suffice it to say that his death was the last step on a very, very long journey, and honestly one of the least traumatising.

I let them keep the focus there because I desperately hate talking about the actual, recent, debilitating trauma of being in lockdown with an abusive partner for 6 months. That shit hurts, I can't even say his name, but that is the thing that I need to unpack if I'm ever going to be able to go outside in the sun again.

Repeatedly ignoring the requests I made for specific treatment until past the point where I needed it anymore, not informing me how the service I was going to be working with for 2 years even worked in something so basic as "what is this for? what will happen to me if I get a diagnosis they can't give me specialised care for?", telling an 11 year old child that suicidal ideation is "not that serious", a fundamental misunderstanding of what I needed and wanted to hear ('normal' is not a helpful word. 'normal' tells me 'suck it up, everyone experiences this and they're all fine, you're normal, just think better' why are they all so adamant that I am normal? Not even considering my mental health I am an autistic bisexual gnc trans guy, we went past whatever 'normal' means a long time ago, fucking listen to me), at every single step of the way this system has left me in the same state I was before, the only improvement being through support from my friends, fucking Childline (gd fucking bless Childline volunteers, but still, I shouldn't have been getting so little support that that felt like my only option), mental health masterposts on Tumblr, chats with my (luckily) very nice guidance counselor (they're called pastoral teachers here but I know most folks reading this are American or are most familiar with the American school system) and what amounts to gritting my teeth and getting through it.

It was worth it, of course my life was worth it, of course I say the same thing every person who's attempted suicide says, I'm more grateful than words could possibly express that I survived, that I get to go home in a few minutes and feed my kitten and write and message my friends, but for fucks sake it didn't need to be this hard. And it doesn't need to be this hard. I'm not out of the woods yet, I'm still waiting on that second appointment with this charity, I'm still 3+ months behind at school, and I'm one of the lucky ones. My boyfriend has been hurt worse by CAMHS, left even more isolated than I was, even more traumatised by the way he was treated, and every single person I know who's been in this system agrees that it's deeply, deeply flawed.

I don't want people to have competitions over who's medical experiences are worse, who's country has the worst mental health system, who's been the most traumatised by their psychiatrists or lack thereof, please. Please don't make this the suffering Olympics. I'm just making this post cause I know, I know that other people have had similar experiences, whether with CAMHS or whatever their equivalent is. Mental health services need serious reform that puts patients first, listens to their needs and requests, that is well funded and well staffed by people who care about their patients wellbeing more than they care about controling other people's lives.

Austerity in the UK is a huge reason why this happened the way it did- my first psychologist left the service to go work somewhere that pays better, leaving just one newly-graduated psychologist that clearly had no idea what she was doing and didn't care to sympathise or show compassion for me.

This shit needs to change, because kids need help, and this is not good enough.

[holasraiboo1971]

is that [AVAN JOGIA]? no, that’s just [ERICH TAILOR]. [HE/HIM] is [TWENTY EIGHT] years old and is an [ENGLISH TEACHER]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [THREE MONTHS]. on a good day, they’re [INVENTIVE & OUTGOING]. but watch out! they can also be [PRETENTIOUS & CYNICAL]. [WASTELAND, BABY BY HOZIER] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill! [fry, 22, est, she/her]

hello all! my name is fry! cannot wait to start writing with you all! if you like what you see, go ahead and like and i’ll come to you for some plots :)

ABOUT ERICH.

full name: erich malli tailor.

nickname: er (pronounced like the word air).

height: 5′10.

hometown: portland, oregon.

occupation: english teacher.

birthday: march 10th.

zodiac: pisces.

BACKGROUND.

early childhood.

erich’s therapist said once that sometimes people imagine things so often that they cannot tell if it is a real memory or not. unfortunately, that’s all erich has of his birth parents. fake memories of happier times.

what erich does know is that his mother was a teenager. she wanted to raise him on her own but simply couldn’t. now, as an adult, he doesn’t blame her or hold any resentment. 

growing up in the foster care system was all erich knew. switching from family to family created many longterm issues for him. as a kid, he had zero hope that he would ever be fully adopted. he had hopped in and out of so many different homes that he wouldn’t even unpack. 

erich didn’t have many friends. he liked it that way. he found saying goodbye to friends was harder than making them. so he was alone for the most part. 

adoption day finally arrived at the age of ten. a nice, liberal, lesbian couple who lived in the middle of san diego. they were kind and wanted to open their home to a kid who they wanted to grow to love. lucky erich. 

after his adoption, erich’s longterm issues would begin to rise to the surface. he showed lots of behavioral issues, signs of abandonment issues, and clear commitment issues. his new parents were there for him through every step of therapy. 

teenagedom.

things seemed to be turning around for erich. therapy was really helping him work through his issues, he was beginning to make friends, and his grades were starting to boost. 

his parents really pushed for him to get into the arts. mainly for mental health reasons, but also because they both appreciated the arts and wanted their son too as well.

it wasn’t long until erich’s hobbies and passions only consisted of artistic activities. watercolor painting helped him convey the loneliness and anxiety he felt growing up. creative writing helped him expand his imagination and patience. music was just fun for him.

he submitted short stories and poems into contests in high school and eventually won a couple. it was then that he realized writing was what he wanted to do in his adult years. 

around this time, erich was beginning to grow popular with the ladies at his high school. he had hit a growth spurt, he was beginning to grow into a self of style, and was beginning to grow into a handsome young man! however, erich was not interested in any of them.

to put things simply, it was a different time back then. this was the year lizzie’s iconic “that’s so gay” commercial had aired. there were plenty of developments that still needed to be made for the lgbtq+ community to be where it stood today. so, with this logic, why would erich want to come out as bisexual? he didn’t even know bisexual was a term.

so, erich would date girls publicly and cheat on them with guys behind their backs. things were going as smoothly as possible until one of the guys were outed. they then felt the need to out erich too. 

it was a dark time for erich. he was hated by most females, the males he had been seeing wanted nothing to do with him because of the amount of bullying he had started receiving, and all of his friends turned their backs on him. when things got really tough for him, his moms turned him to the typewriter and encouraged him to write.

erich and his moms ended up moving back to portland his junior year. a smart move and one that was definitely needed for him to grow. 

surprisingly, the culture was completely different in portland. he was able to become his true self in portland. he was surrounded by incredible friends and had an incredible support system.

erich came out as bisexual and finished a novel his senior year.

young adult life up to now.

erich never tried published his novel. he doesn’t think he ever will. it’s incredibly personal and he thinks it needs a ton of work. he’ll probably let you read the first chapter if you ask him though.

erich took a gap year to travel before attending college in oregon. he and his boyfriend from senior year roadtripped across the united states. unfortunately, the two broke up halfway back to oregon.

sadly, erich’s mother died of a car accident during his senior year of college. the two were extremely close and so it hit erich really hard. 

in college, you party. it happens. however, after erich’s mom’s death, the partying picked up for him, and that wasn’t all. erich’s drinking habits started growing to new heights. not only that, but erich had decided to do a couple party drugs in the process.

slowly but surely, erich’s grades began to drop and soon enough he was placed on academic probation. after that, he did the bare minimum to get his degree and that’s what he continued to do.

while erich desperately wants to be a well-known author, he has a feeling he never will be. so, he became an english teacher instead.

extras.

some of erich’s favorite places are when harry met jerry, cloak and stagger, and sunshine diner. he’s probably fucked up on something or working on another never-to-be-released novel. 

yes, erich teaches your high school aged children. sometimes, he shows up to class hungover. he is also an incredibly laid back teacher. there are also rumors going around the school saying erich sleeps with parents sometimes. despite all of this, he creates one of the safest spaces for his students and truly cares about them. 

erich is the sponsor for the high school GSA club.

erich has a puppy despite how much he hates dogs.

if i think of anything else, i’ll update!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

*means capped / taken.

other teacher friends. please. imagine the workplace gossip.

if your muse’s kid is 14-18, they probably have some sort of opinion on erich. let’s plot that out!

in regard to that second one, maybe the two have slept together?

matched on tinder / bumble. they could have slept together or the two just met and became friends that way!

friends w/benefits.

a good ol’ bromance pls.

enemies maybe????!!

if your muse works in at when harry met jerry, cloack and stagger, or sunshine diner, there is a chance that these two are going to see each other a lot. let’s plot that out!

erich has only lived in springhill for three months so most connections are going to be present connections so please keep that in mind!

erich has also cut ties with everyone from his high school / childhood so! none of those please!

maybe our muses went to college in portland together!

i’m pretty much an open book and love plotting ! 

ALRIGHT ! that’s pretty much it ! can’t wait to write with yall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

My Take On What Kind Of Student Each Character Is

minus the ones that we fully know about and the ones i didn’t wanna write for

~

Adela: She’d be the student that’s very prodigious on a certain subject, but not be very good at most others. Like, she needs help in english, or P.E., but once science class hits she becomes coveted as a project partner. Of course, the moment that someone pulls out a game board she either gets in and demolished everyone else, or is actively let out to level the playing field.

Adriana: She’d be a big troublemaker, the type you see getting switched from classes or on detention at least once until the first half of the year’s done. Everyone knows her as THAT kid. She’s the student that shoves an eraser in the outlet to make the classroom lights go out. She’s the student that burns something, but no one knows what, just knows there’s a suspicious burning smell, flustering the teachers and supervisors. Those are both real stories I have from highschool, by the way. Neither were caused by me, though.

Alex: He’s the kid everyone forgets exists. Either because they’re never present in class and eventually become that one name everyone laughs at because “oh hah the teacher hasn’t realized courtney’s NEVER showing up”, or because they just don’t talk much and turn away or bore folks trying to socialize with him.

Arda: He’s the kid that’s really smart, but everyone gets kinda creeped out by him. Someone looks for him as a kid, and finds him looking at the ground far too close to an anthill. They ask him what he’s doing, and he gets on this weird rant on how ants live and how life is precious but fleeting. People often want him to be in their group on group assignments since it guarantees an A, but fully expect the assignment to not go pleasantly.

Aya: The narc. The tattletale. That kid that no one tells anything to. Beloved by teachers and supervisors, but others usually aren’t that fond of her. Probably gets bullied over it, and eventually gets a huge complex over how she can’t actually make them stop by talking to authority figures. 

Barbara: She’s the kid that knows a lot about how to use the computers when it gets to that. She’d be really good at arts and crafts projects, and get good grades, but be secretly utterly bored by literally everything that doesn’t have that sort of physical building-up and get really excited and happy when tech class starts, or the arts teacher makes an assignment where she can make things beyond drawing or writing about old artists she doesn’t care much for.

Bernice: He’s the really depressed, existencial kid. Bummer to be around. Makes a joke about death that makes everyone fall silent. One of his classmates became a psychologist and sent him their card.

Camilo: The one dude that folks either know as the guy that gets with lots of people, or as really self-absorbed. Passing grades but only that, probably.

Cathy: The kid that wants to be a doctor. Always has bandaids and antiseptics ready, gets called on whenever people get hurt pretty bad (presuming the nurse’s office isn’t available or her school doesn’t have one). 

Chiara: The jehovah’s kid that tries to get their friends to go to the church. Type to show up to a friend’s house on a Sunday, and try to get them to go with her to the church. People usually try to just quietly ignore it or try to just be a good influence on her, since they don’t know how they’d decode her from it.

Daniel: Him being the goth kid’s a given, but he’d also be that really artistic kid that folks admire (because dang his art’s so good) but also get kinda weirded out by. Voted Most Likely to Kill Someone.

Echion: He’s that dude that randomly fights people for no reason, actually winds up creating harm, gets suspended, then next day a teacher starts talking about how everyone should’ve been more patient with him despite the fact that he was hurting people. (hoping this isn’t relatable)

Eleven: She’d be that student that’s always letting others borrow their stuff, has a bunch of friends she helps with school stuff when they don’t get it, and is generally too nice for this world. I know her backstory involves her friends all being fake and only there for her dad’s influence but I’m going to willingly ignore that and say folks love her and are her friends without influence from her dad. Shhhhhh.

Eva: The student that makes jokes during classes, either whispering to friends or out loud when the teacher allows it. She probably doesn’t like science.

Emma: You know that kid that would bring a book about magic to school? And do magic tricks for people mid class? That. Except she’d actually commit to it for more than a week. Teachers hate her.

Fiora: Sword lesbian. She’d likely have average grades mostly, but excel in P.E. Probably in the student council, maybe as the president with Jenny being the vice president because Fiora would trust her with that sort of thing.

Hart: She’d be the type to go through school sort of in a “i gotta” type of motivation, then after graduation you find out she made a mixtape.

Hyejin:The kid that would be able to help deprogram Chiara because she’s also religious but knows the line. I feel like she’d be the arts and crafts kid too, maybe have her dream job be psychology.

Isol: The kid that’s causing mischief, but in a sort of quiet sneaky way. The kid that made the school administration make a huge fuss trying to figure out who the fuck made the classroom lights go out, or stole something. A week passes. No one even knows who the fuck did it because he’s that good.

Jackie: Openly wanted to be a doctor. Everyone silently suspects she’s the murder doctor type.

Jan: The kid that’s really nice and chill. Then he does pushups with no effort and everyone realized that he’s actually really strong and could probably break them in half if he wanted to. Someone asked him why he works out so much. He answered “to pick up big dogs easily”. Nadine nodded in understanding.

Jenny: The theater kid. Probably isn’t that interested in most classes until either english or art decides that making a play would be interesting. Fiora would be really supportive of her and show up every rehearsal, and record the plays every time.

JP: Okay, we kinda know how he was in school but i still wanna harp on it? Like, he hacked into the school system to get test answers. He definitely emasculated every other kid that wanted to cause mischief. And whenever someone got angry at him for it he probably just tricked them into a ligma joke. King. Legend. He probably got held back though. 

Lenox: She probably wouldn’t kick too much fuss in school, be kind of generically nice and fun, but nothing special. Until they meet her post graduation years later and find out the path she took and they now have a good ice breaker.

Leon: The only kid that got excited for swimming classes. Probably has stories about times he went to the beach. I think he’d also be the kid that feels REALLY pressured to get good grades and doesn’t feel happy enough with anything under a ten.

Li Dailin: Got caught doing drugs in the bathroom. Probably is the one who’s picked to organize events.

Luke: The kid that gets really annoyed when people touch their things because of cleanliness. Everyone asks him when they need hand sanitizer because he always has it. Also probably is the kid that makes jokes over what the teacher said.

Magnus: The guy that’s always smoking right outside school. Got caught doing drugs in the men’s bathroom.

Mai: The kid that’s known to be kind of snobby and annoying, that people kinda stay away from. Probably has plenty of material but never lets anyone borrow it. Not even the people that she knows won’t try to steal it. 

Nadine: The cause of the dog that keeps showing up into school. If the school had a mascot she’d likely be the one taking care of it. Also the kid that becomes coveted when teams are being made for sports.

Nathapon: Gets in detention because he won’t fucking put away his phone ever and filmed the classes.

Nicky: She’d probably actively look for fights, but only ones where the other person did something to deserve it. For example, she sees someone bullying the teacher, trying to steal their things, and she’d get into a fight with the person to make them stop. (That story was caused by me. ....oh god is that why i like hyunwoo)

Rosalio: Jock, but a jackass.

Rozzi: Voted Most Likely to Kill Someone. Everyone kinda stays away from her because she looks so threatening, but as the year goes on everyone finds out she’s actually kind of a dork and the facade winds up getting undone. She gave the teachers food as a goodbye gift before graduation.

Shoichi: Very first day, the teachers do the ‘what do you want to do when you grow up’ thing and he says he’ll become a business major. The kid that’s kind of annoying, but since they’re smart the teachers don’t care unless they become fully disruptive.

Silvia: She’d be the kid that gets bullied over not being very smart. She asks obvious questions, tends to not pull her weight on group projects, that sort of stuff. Though, I think she wouldn’t be the type to get low self esteem over it, I think she’d let it slide every time and keep her chin up. She’d likely have a lot of friends because of that carefree disposition.

Sissela: Often misses school, does it online, or leaves early because she’s always sick. May or may not take a depression leave at some point. While her getting bullied over her fragileness might be expected, it never happens because if anyone even tried to bully her, half the class would defend her because DUDE SHE’S JUST A SMALL BUT SWEET KID LEAVE HER ALONE

Sua: The kid that LIVES in the library. The moment a book report is needed she winds up having to help everyone get it. Incapable of being teased because she just takes everything as her sweet gentle self and never actually gets hurt from it.

William: Jock. That’s it.

Xiukai: He’s the kid that sneaks in food during class. The food equivalent of the kid that everyone gets candy from. He once ate soup in class and Nadine yelled “I SMELL MEAT! SOMEONE HAS SOUP!”. No one believed her.

Zahir: Another guy who’s pretty smart, but kind of weird. He never gets any meme reference. He rarely tries to reference any memes he does learn about, but when he does everyone thinks that it might be best that he doesn’t use them often.

[monsieur-fancy-hat]

How abt an AU where dazai and chuuya are in the mafia together and atsushi and akutagawa are in the ADA

Send me some characters and an AU for me to write headcanons/prompts for.

Ended up rewriting this like twice but I hope you enjoy!!

Some parts of it were taken from the canon BSD AU light novel, BEAST.

Ages during the backstory:

Akutagawa Ryuunosoke- 11 or 12

Nakajima Atsushi- 8 or 9

Akutagawa Gin- 8 or 9

Dazai Osamu- 16 or 17

Nakahara Chuuya- 16 or 17

Odasaku- 20 or 21

Let’s start with Akutagawa and Atsushi’s backstory!!

Akutagawa and Gin have a mother. She abused them, because she believed that she had to work three times harder to take care of them as she was a single mom. She also hated the kids for looking so eeriely like the fathers (cause half-siblings).

So after a while, Akutagawa and Gin fun away from home. They take as much cash as they feel comfortable with, take important belongings (weapons), a coat given to Akutagawa by his father, and other necessities.

The end up in the slums for a while, before an orphanage takes them in. They’re far away enough from their mother that it’s pretty much safe. But the orphanage learns about the mother and stuff. And they decide that maybe they should go into the foster care system? The orphanage isn’t sure right now, so they just let the kids stay.

So Akutagawa and Gin stay at the orphanage. They’re kinda loners, cause they don’t talk to people besides themselves. Some kids believe that Gin is mute (so they make fun of her) and Akutagawa -even at the delicate age of 12- has a death glare that makes grown adults run. So he uses it o the bullies. And if he’s not around... well, Gin has her way of taking care of things (stabby stabby).

But one day, this mysterious guy talks to Akutagawa. This mysterious man starts talking ‘nonsense’ about special powers and stuff. He also explains that Akutagawa might have some.

Akutagawa doesn’t believe the mysterious guy.

But a week later Gin was cornered in a alley by a college kid, who was trying to do.... non-consenting inappropriate things to her. And Gin, being Gin, had a knife out and was about to stabby stabby, when this random kid jumps on the college dude.

And he starts trying to hang onto the college guy by his neck and yelling for help

And Gin is just stand there wondering what the heck is going on

The orphanage staff rush into the alley to see a white-haired kid biting a college dude (who is still trying to shake him off) and a little girl, who kinda looks like a ninja, slipping what they think looks like a knife into a pocket.

They bring the police to arrest the college dude.

Everyone is wondering why he has cat-like scratches on his back and tiger bites on his neck.

Gin is interested by the white haired kid (which, you know, Atsushi) and brings him to join her tiny friend group.

Akutagawa, not a huge fan of him...

And apparently, neither are the orphanage staff.

Atsushi’s 8 or 9, Gin is 8 or 9, and Akutagawa is around 12.

Akutagawa and Gin get the least abused by the staff, cause they are great at not getting into trouble.

I mean, Gin was scolded a couple times for the incidents (“You shouldn’t have run off on your own! And if you’re gonna run away, then don’t come back!!”). But that’s pretty much it.

Atsushi, on the other hand.... let’s just say that the staff have some problems with him.

Gin (and sometimes Akutagawa) usually patch Atsushi up though, so he’s not alone!

They become decently good friends. Woohoo!

But Akutagawa starts thinking that Atsushi is secretly a tiger. Cause bite marks. Also cause he heard rumors that there was a white tiger around the orphanage grounds.

So he meets up with the mysterious guy, and tries to get some answers. Cause he wouldn’t want Gin to be hanging out with someone who could hurt her. That’s a no-no.

Sadly, mysterious guy hasn’t heard about this either. So... oof.

So one night, Akutagawa gets waken up by something crashing outside.

He puts on his coat and decides to go check it out, correctly thinking it’s the tiger.

Atsushi-tiger (he’s a baby tiger, just so ya know), seeing Akutagawa, goes to attack him.

And Akutagawa hears someone shout “Use your ability!!”

Akutagawa is kinda confused, and kinda angry, so he just says the first thing that comes to mind (He remembers that when he was younger, really really young, his father would show him how he sewed cloth together. How many shades of black you could use, and all the different styles. Mr. Akutagawa showed his son one of his favorite pieces, a black coat. He named it Rashomon. Cause I need this story to make a bit of sense.)

“RASHOUMON!”

Boom

Parts of his coat fly towards the tiger, trapping him.

But it can’t hold him for long, and Atsushi springs right back at him.

But mystery guy comes in the middle of them, and activates his ability.

“No longer human.”

In a flash of white light, Atsushi is found on one side, laying face-down bottom-up on the floor.

Akutagawa was standing on the other side.

Mystery guy offered Akutagawa a place to belong. A place to go home to. He even said Gin & Atsushi could come, if Akutagawa wanted.

And Akutagawa doesn’t know what to think.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to, cause ANOTHER MYSTERY GUY COMES OVER

He has dark red hair, and a beige trench coat.

And he seems to recognize mystery guy #1.

“Dazai, is that you?” “Oh! Hi there Oda! Isn’t this a surprise. I’ll be taking the kids and leaving now, if you don’t mind!”

Yup. It’s Dazai and Oda!

Also, FYI, Oda does mind. Cause Dazai left the A.D.A. a couple months ago and no one has had any contact with him ever since.

Oda is upset and wants Dazai to come back. And Dazai... doesn’t give a damn.

They have a standoff-staredown.

And while they do that, Akutagawa goes over to Atsushi to check if he’s alive and okay.

Dazai and Oda fight, but Dazai can’t bring himself to kill Oda and leaves alone.

Which leaves Oda with an uncounsious Atsushi and a tired Akutagawa.

Oda decides that he should take these kids in. So he goes to the orphanage the next day and adopts Atsushi.

And Atsushi is sad cause he thinks he’ll be separated from Gin and Akutagawa.

Which is oof.

But Oda ends up fostering the Akutagawa’s.

So he just ends up with 3 more kids. Woohoo!! And the other kids too, but they’re all younger than them (3-4 at the time).

So Oda has his hands VERY full. Too nice.

He brings them to the A.D.A.

And Kunikida scolds Oda cause “You were supposed to be looking for that bandaged idiot! Not going around taking in more kids!!”.

But Oda interrupts him and says, “I talked to Dazai.”

And everyone goes quiet for a minute. Cause if Oda spoke to Dazai and he still won’t come back, it’s over.

Dazai has defected from the Armed Dectetive Agency.

Oda spends his time training Atsushi and Akutagawa. They’re both young and a bit confused about what’s going on (“What the... I’M A TIGER?!” “Yes, Jinko, we know.”)

But they all get along quite well, so yay!

The trio grow up together, and they eventually become official members of the A.D.A. Gin is an assistant.

She, Naomi, and Haruno become friends. Gin is still closest to Atsushi though.

And that’s their [back]story.

But now... it’s time for Dazai’s!

So, Dazai & Oda went to school together. Dazai had a not-so-great home life, so moved away at 16.

He lived by himself for a month or two, living off weird part-time jobs. Due to his smarts, he managed to skip two grades. So he’s a freshman in college. I think.

And Oda is in his third year of college.

Dazai lived at the school dorms, cause he got a full-ride scholarship. Cause smart.

Dazai has known about his powers for a while. Some weird doctor guy went to him and tried to get him to join some mafia thing, but Oda advises him to not.

So he doesn’t. But he is interested.

Dazai & Oda end up in the A.D.A.

And Oda has a great time there. He likes the people. He has fun. It’s great.

But Dazai... nope. He hates it. He can’t suicide attempt without someone being there to stop him, he can’t wear bandages without being sent to Yosano to get a check up, he can’t even be gone for a day without being chased down by Kunikida or Oda, wondering where the he’ll he’s been.

Dazai is bored and sick of the A.D.A.

So he leaves.

After a huge argument with Oda, Dazai leaves. And Mori, predicting this would happen, appeared to say “I told you so.”

And so Dazai, at the young age of 16, is taken in by the Port Mafia.

And he’s pretty good at it too!

He loves playing mind games and doing interrogations and killing people who NEVER SEE IT COMING~ (sorry, wrong fandom-) and just being evil~

A couple months later, he’s on track to become a executive. He’s already a sub-executive under Kouyou.

But then, Fifteen (Well, it’s more like Sixteen...) happens

And Dazai meets the cutest redhead he’s ever seen in his life.

Also Dazai is a kinky man has a thing for gloves.

ALSO MOTORCYCLE & CHUUYA

So of course Dazai is in love intrigued by the tiny sixteen year old.

“What the f*ck I’m still growing!!”

“Sureeeeeee-”

“F*ck off.”

“So creative, Chuu~”

“I will torture you until you die from the pain and then I’ll burn you and chop up your ashes and scatter them in the sea so that there’s no way you can come back.”

“Oh. Sounds like fun!! I mean, excluding the pain part, I’d love to die with you~”

“...why are you like this?”

Since Mori is a sadist and Dazai, a masochist, Chuuya and Dazai become partners.

“Please NO.”

“Please yes~”

And they were roommates.

oH mY gOd thEy wEre rOommAteS

[cough cough] ANYWAYS

Chuuya and Dazai become partners. They murder people.

Dazai thinks it’s fun, and Chuuya can’t help but go along with Dazai’s shenanigans. Chuuya is very in love annoyed.

The two become a feared duo, but some who know them personally (Kouyou, Mori, & Hirotsu) know that they’re really just lovestruck teens.

It’s really cute.

And que the next backstory!

So. Chuuya’s backstory. I tried making up a new one for him, but I didn’t want to diverge too much from canon, so his is pretty much the same.

Now, the plot. Well, it’s more somewhat connected headcanons that plot, so... oof. The backstories all happened 10 years ago, so everyone is 10 years older than they were before.

Ages:

Atsushi- 18-19

Akutagawa- 21-22

Gin- 18-19

Dazai- 26-17

Chuuya- 26-27

Oda- 30-31

So. Atsushi is going grocery shopping, yeah?

And Chuuya is also grocery shopping, yeah?

And they bump into each other. And Atsushi doesn’t recognize him, but Chuuya remembers from one of Dazai’s drunk ramblings about trying to recruit some white tiger kid and a black coat?

Either way, Chuuya doesn’t really care. But he decides to tell Dazai once he’s home.

But only after he finished shopping for some fresh, non-canned crab.

But as he’s picking out a crab, the grocery store gets attacked by some ability users.

Oof.

And Chuuya doesn’t want to intervene (and risk his identity/secrecy to the public, who have limited knowledge of ability users).

But white-tiger Atsushi just goes flying towards one of the robbers.

And Chuuya knows.

So obviously, he tells Dazai. And Dazai, being Dazai, pretends he doesn’t remember.

Later, he goes to visit the A.D.A.

To see his ‘replacements’.

But he’s super chill about it.

And by ‘chill’, I mean smiley-evil. Like when he was talking to Mori during the A.D.A. & P.M. meeting (in canon).

Atsushi and Akutagawa are a mix of confused and worried.

And Akutagawa is lowkey wondering why the heck this random guy, who looks suspiciously familiar.

And ohhhh it’s that guy who tried to kidnap him a few years ago!

Wait. It’s the guy who tried to kidnap him a few years ago.

And Akutagawa takes Atsushi and they leave the A.D.A. building.

They end up on a we’re-denying-that-this-is-a-date-but-it-really-is.

But like they’re obviously lowkey dating, so yeah-

Like come on, Gin has been shipping this since she was like 9.

Also Dazai (after getting in a fight with with Oda, again oof), on his way home, he sees Atsushi & Akutagawa on the way back, and thinks of his boyf riend~~

And Dazai ships it SO HARD!!

But he first must go home to Chuu~

And that’s all I can think of right now. Also I really wanna get this posted cause it’s super late. I also gotta start the others. ;-;

HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!! ♥️

[ohnohetaliasues]

Stones to Abbigale {Ch.2}

 (Kat)

I actively want to die.

This book is making me suffer.

It’s terrible and I hate it.

Okay, here’s chapter two.

Also, I’m going to start new paragraphs whenever someone speaks because I find reading it without that formatting insufferable.

The following morning Mr. Hanson approached me in the hall before class started.

Wait, who is this again? The history teacher?

I actually forgot he existed.

"We're supposed to talk," he said in his usual stern voice.

I responded, "I know, but what about?"

He began gesturing with his hands as he often did, I guess it was a habit he developed to trick people into believing he was saying something interesting.

Or he just talks with his hands.

Like me.

"You know you're a smart kid, but you keep showing up late to my classes and it's becoming a problem" he said.

Surprised he showed genuine interest; I replied with a smirk, "I'll do better in the future."

He continued "Alright, well, I also wanted to ask you about a TA opportunity."

I replied, "You don't have a teacher's assistant?"

I’ve never heard of a high school student becoming a TA, but maybe it’s just not a thing at my high school.

I watched a bead of sweat fall down his balding forehead as he responded.

"The last TA moved, and yeah, you're not always on time, but you get your work done honestly and efficiently."

I asked, "Ok Mr. Hanson, next semester?"

He authoritatively replied "No, you can just take an elective class credit and I'll let your current teacher know you'll be working with me from here on."

I crave death.

I immediately thought of the possibility of losing art class and rejected the idea.

"My only elective is art class right now and I don't want to give that up" I said.

He took a step back looking offended and lost his temper, in a disgruntled tone he said "Art? Art class is a joke James! Tell me one person you know who is making a living painting pictures!"

Um.

There are many famous painters alive today who are rich.

Jeff Koons, Gerhard Richter. The list goes on.

All the students nearby in the hall stopped and looked towards the shouting. I looked at Mr. Hanson unaffected, reminding him I would not give it up. I wasn't about to sacrifice the one class I had with Abbi for alone time with a sweaty, anger-prone history teacher.

What-

Why do adults in this book act like petty children?

Mr. Hanson looked at everyone stopped in the hall and screamed "Oh ha ha, everyone look at Mr. Hanson he's such a goof, move along kids!"

Everyone just looked at him as he turned back to me, maintaining his clearly frustrated posture. He then waddled into his classroom to begin class.

My eyes are glazing over.

I reluctantly entered with the remaining students to sit at my desk, which was conveniently placed within broomstick range from Mr. Hanson's desk.

‘Broomstick range��� is now a system of measurement, apparently.

After enduring another useless history lesson revolving around my home state of Washington it was finally time for art class.

What a surprise, that’s also Onion’s home state.

I walked as fast as I could without looking too awkward, in my normal fashion, only to find Abbi wasn't even in the room. I sat down in my new seat and waited, only to see everyone but her fill the room.

Die mad about it.

Mrs. Stanley closed the door to our class trailer and instructed us to begin dismembering the possessions we brought from home. I began cutting the bear with a scalpel Mrs. Stanley provided me

No.

No.

Just no.

Scalpel?

Is your art teacher insane?

but my muscles seemed to work on their own as I found myself consumed with Abbi again, her overwhelming presence on the edge of every thought fragment in my mind. Just a short while into class I found myself looking down at my bear, now cut into 6 pieces. I felt like I was in a science lab dissecting an actual animal, the most noticeable difference being that the cotton stuffing didn't look like or stink of old flesh and death like real animals did.

I don’t know whether to cry, scream, or laugh about this.

Later that day during lunch, due to my mom not being able to afford buying me a cell phone, I used a payphone to call Abbi but got no answer. I didn't feel like eating so the rest of lunch I just sat on a bench outside staring at people interacting with each other. I made a major effort to distract myself knowing that focusing on what could be was mostly a waste considering I was so powerless to influence any change at that point. Even just watching the bushes move around in the wind made more sense to me than letting worry consume me.

More of this pretentious bullshit.

Later that night after I had just finished my shower I placed the one cordless phone we had in my house next to my bed on my windowsill. I would have dialed her but I didn't want to call more than once a day for fear of wearing out my welcome.

Good idea.

That night, a few different calls came in but they were always for my sister Lisa. Her receiving a barrage of phone calls from random guys was nothing new to anyone in the house.

The normal conversation you could expect to hear Lisa take part in, with excessive projection in her voice, would most always revolve around how stupid she thought other girls at school were and how she hates basically everything about Lakewood High.

I mean, who doesn’t hate high school? It kind of sucks.

I didn't want to know what she was talking about, ever,

Even if you just said what she was talking about.

but my TV volume couldn't compete with her voice. It was like she thought she was so important, everyone around her just had to hear everything she had to say no matter how trivial the topic. After a couple hours she finally stopped running her mouth so I turned off my TV and with it my room faded to darkness. I welcomed the silence like a warm blanket on a cold night.

I hate that simile.

I woke up the next morning to see the phone sitting there just like my stupid alarm clock, useless and unbearably annoying to look at. I expected it to sound off at some point but like the clock it failed to deliver.

If the alarm clock is broken, get a new one or throw that one away, or maybe fix it. There are many ways to fix your problem.

It was raining outside; clouds filled the sky in normal Lakewood fashion. I wasn't going to skate to school this time out of fear it would rust my skates and hinder my ability to skate fast if even at all.

If you briefly skate in the rain, it won’t do anything to your skates. That’s just how that works.

Instead I decided to ride the bus, pretending for only moments I really had a choice.

As I climbed up the bus steps, Davis rang out "Hallelujah, James is here to save everyone from the evil clouds!"

I genuinely smiled for the first time that morning thanks to him. As usual I sat next to the window seat that Davis courteously always offered me.

This book just has a way of making me want to die.

The beginning of history class was the same old story. As usual I barely paid attention. I just thought about Abbi and hoped she was ok.

Okay, the way this is written makes it seem like James only has history class and then art and that’s it and then school is over. That seems to be it.

And that bothers me.

Interrupting my thoughts of Abbi came a very rude outburst by Jason. It was odd to hear his voice, as I wasn't supposed to see him till art class. He stood outside our closed class door waving his hands in hopes of disrupting us.

Is he just standing there screaming outside the classroom door? That’s fucking stupid. There is no logical or comedic reason for him to do that.

It was clearly for no real reason more meaningful than a toddler would have in invok- ing chaos around their immediate environment. Some people just want to get an emotional reaction to their behavior so they can feel a sense of power or control.

So he cuts class to scream outside a classroom door?

Have fun in detention, dipshit.

Jason began banging on the door so Mr. Hanson walked over and opened the door and asked "Why aren't you in your class?"

Jason responded saying, "Got kicked out, what's up?"

Okay, so because of that bullshit, I believe Mr. Hanson should have the option to fucking destroy you.

"Go stand outside your class till it's over" Mr. Hanson commanded, Jason rebelliously replied, "Don't tell me what to do fatty."

Okay, so I’m mad about how Onion connected these two pieces of dialogue when he shouldn’t have, but I’m also mad at this fucking 3rd grade insult.

To a teacher.

I could see Mr. Hanson was about to lose it, so I interrupted. "No one wants you here Jason."

Rude but yes, James is right. Fuck right off.

Mr. Hanson looked back at me with a look of surprise. He seemed shock I would say anything on his behalf. Jason became extremely silent, now refusing to look anywhere but at me.

That’s... Alarming imagery.

His glare was intense but it seemed so forced, like he wasn't really offended but didn't want to look weak in front of everyone else.

I cannot imagine that in a way that invokes tension.

Mr. Hanson then closed the door inches away from Jason's nose but that didn't stop him from staring intensely through the vertical window slot in the door.

This literally sounds like a scene from The Office. It sounds like somethig Dwight Schrute would do.

He remained so still and consistent in his stare, it was almost as if he had become a red-faced almost cartoonish portrait hanging on the door.

Literally sounds like Dwight. I’m laughing my ass off.

As class came closer to an end Jason was no longer staring at me and wasn't even visible from my perspective. Knowing Jason had something left to prove, many of the students naturally assumed he was somewhere within the immediate vicinity. I could tell most everyone was concerned as they kept looking back at me, wondering what I was going to do about the clearly unstable and enraged jock that no doubt was still lurking just outside our door.

I can’t-

Is he a caricature? Of a fucking stereotypical jock?

Every kid in there knew I couldn't just hide out in the class. I was sure this was some kind of victory for Mr. Hanson. He knew I wouldn't have this immediate problem had I accepted his offer to TA for him.

It’s petty and stupid not to stop a potential fight between students because you’re mad at one of the students. Why is this asshole acting like a child?

Oh.

Right.

Because Onion regularly acts like a child.

My decisions led me to this; I built a doorway to certain destruction and I knew if I was going to be brave, I had to walk through it.

I don’t care.

Get the shit beat out of you.

You’re annoying.

I didn't have time to deal with hesitating once class was over, seeing Abbi was my real priority. I walked out with the class just like I normally did only this time Jason was following close behind, as I'm sure most everyone assumed he would. I was about to leave the main building to head over to the art trailer only to feel a hand grab my shoulder. The hand slipped as I pulled away, nails scraping along my skin to clamp on my shirt. I was then yanked swiftly back from the main hall door. It began.

I’ve written fight scenes before. This has no buildup like a fight scene should have.

I yanked my shirt aggressively out of his hand and clutched my now scratched up shoulder. I was now facing Jason who immediately lunged at me and threw me into the already half-broken hall door just behind me.

What door? Where is this fight taking place? in front of the school? Where is the main hall?

I’m very confused.

I bounced back from the impact and pushed Jason in the center of his chest to distance him from me so I could continue walking away. Without hesitation he used my response to justify further violence and began throwing punches. I was knocked to the ground within seconds and he began trying to pull off my backpack resulting in me being briefly dragged across the floor like a helpless child.

This... This is very very hard to picture as an actual series of events.

This is not how fight scenes work or how they should be written.

I was now a couple yards away from the door I was trying to leave through.

Oh, so this is inside. I pictured it outside because I wasn’t told that wasn’t where it was.

I twisted away to return to a standing position while simultaneously snatching my backpack back so hard that it flew out my hands and smacked the door behind me, leaving a huge crack in the glass. I could hear glass falling off the door behind me.

????

I cannot picture this happening it’s so strangely written.

People began to gather around us, and like a chemical reaction they began screaming just as they did before. Much of what was happening was a blur, but I remember they would scream every time Jason hit me throughout the irrefutably one-way fight. It quickly got to the point where I didn't even feel the punches, I could only hear them laughing and yelling as Jason swung again and again.

Has Onion only ever seen shitty high school movies? Because nobody acts like this.

I kept falling over and over but every time I would return to stand only to fail at defending myself from further blows. I didn't block a single hit; I didn't even throw one punch at him.

As my nose began to bleed one of the boys my sister was friends with, Matthew, grabbed me and pulled me out of the fight. He was twice my size but was also on Jason's football team so naturally he did nothing to help me win.

Bro he saved you from being punched repeatedly.

The only thing he offered me was an end to the beating I was suffering.

And that’s fine. Because Matthew is stopping the fight instead of continuing it. Which is the good thing to do.

Shortly after the fight ended I found myself sitting on a mattress in the nurses' office, not allowed to leave, not allowed to do anything but think about what happened.

I’d maybe take him to the hospital.

Despite everything in my head feeling scrambled and disorganized, there was Abbi, waiting in the same place, just as she sat in the back of class. She radiated warmly in the back of my mind.

Awesome.

As lunch approached Principal Leeman came into the room I was staying in at the nurses' office and asked me how I was feeling.

Why on earth did the principal come and check on him?

That’s bizarre.

I responded "Well, my tooth is chipped, my chin hurts, my face is bruised and I just got humiliated in front of my peers."

And you know your tooth is chipped without actually checking.

Fun.

Mr. Leeman said, "I've gotten multiple statements saying you pushed him. What's your response?"

James was literally attacked. It was not his fault. I will admit that, even if I hate him.

I replied "I pushed him back after he pushed me first. All I did was push him back once and then he did this to my face." I made a circular motion around my face showing how one-sided the fight way.

That bit of dialogue and the following description didn’t make any fucking sense.

Principal Leeman said in a commanding voice "Well he's suspended for 10 days," he paused and I felt relief assuming the Principal was on my side, but then he continued, "You will be suspended for 2 days."

The bitch didn’t fight back, but sure okay.

I was surprised they would suspend someone for just pushing back when they are pushed. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore being assaulted?

Valid point.

If school is meant to teach us how to survive in the real world, and in the real world you are legally allowed to defend yourself, how could they justify this punishment?

Never mind, shut the fuck up.

Principal Leeman informed me I could finish up the day and not return for the following two days.

I would assume James needs to go home or to the dentist due to his chipped tooth.

"You should be at least grateful for that, Jason was escorted off school grounds entirely," he said.

Principal Leeman stared at me sitting there, helpless and about to break down.

"Ok then, see you again in a few days" he said and quickly walked out.

All I could focus on feeling in that moment was the tacky ice pack on my face and a sinking feeling of worthlessness. It's not something I like to admit but the truth is I cried seconds after Principal Leeman left the room.

I mean, I would too.

The type of cry you suppress but your eyes still get become red, your body trembles & painfully hot tears still fall. It was the type of sadness that made a person ache to their core but you do your best to hold on, to not lose yourself to your emotions like you would so carelessly do as a child.

 I have read descriptions of trying not to cry before, and this feels like a strange hollow replica of the things I read. I’ve written someone trying not to cry before.

While this does evoke some emotion, it’s very on the surface and not deep enough to make me feel anything heavy.

And it isn’t childish to cry, it’s human, so shut the fuck up, Onion.

I sat in the room alone till I could collect myself. Shortly after I gathered my stuff and proceeded to finishing my classes for the day.

There needs to be a comma after ‘shortly after’ or this reads like an incomplete sentence.

I also asked a couple of my teachers about any work I would miss so I could keep up while I was suspended but didn't have the motivation to stop by every single class before leaving the school entirely.

Have fun with the surprise homework you’ll have.

As I was about to get on the bus home I looked over to see Abbi again in the parking lot with her boyfriend Seth. They were standing by his car. This time they were not showing affection, in fact she seemed like she wasn't even willing to look at him despite him clearly and aggressively speaking to her.

Oh wonderful.

Abuse.

Don’t get me wrong, abuse is terrible and I hope from the bottom of my heart that if any of you are victims of abuse that you get the help you need, but this.

This seems cliché.

Without a second's thought I shifted away from the bus and began walking over to Abbi to see if she was ok. The more I could hear Seth's tone as I approached the more worried I became.

Okay, that’s a rational thing to do.

Seth reacted to me like a guard dog in a ghetto-fenced yard once he realized I was headed towards him.

That’s a little extreme.

He puffed out his shoulders and glared at me in attempts to look intimidating.

How does someone puff out their shoulders? Explain that to me.

Abbi remained upset, it seemed like she was emotionally unable to look any- where but the ground.

Do you mean physically? You can’t use your emotions to move your body. That’s just not a thing that exists. Sorry, Onion.

Now within a fair speaking range, I tried to sound optimistic for the sake of Abbi's emotional state, "Hey Abbi, were you at art class today?"

In.* In art class, I think you mean.

I asked.

Her boyfriend stepped in front of her to block my view and said, "Are you the kid that called her the other night?"

I responded, "Yeah, we're..."

"Just ignore him James" Abbi said mumbled loudly behind Seth.

Seth looked back as if an arrow had just been plunged into his chest.

So... He looked like he’d been shot?

Excuse me, the fuck?

Abbi then walked around him looking only at me and said, "Will you walk me..." but paused when she saw my face.

Abbi's facial expression changed quickly to shock as she asked in an alarmed tone "...what happened?"

Her boyfriend busted out laughing, "Oh, you didn't see this idiot get wrecked by Jason? He didn't even fight back. I would've had that jock prick choking in his own blood in seconds but you just took a beating like a..."

It’s like this guy looked at the viewer and said ‘I’m an asshole and you’re not supposed to like me.’

Abbi interrupted screaming, "Shut up Seth! You sadistic freak!"

Seth's grin turned into a scowl. He rapidly stepped towards her so I blocked his path by stepping in front of him. Seth looked more mortified than I had ever seen a person get. In such a short time knowing him I could see he had a number of mental and emotional issues, more so than I understood.

You just know this?

Again, why is James written like this? In a way that seems like he has psychic powers?

Seth didn't even try to get past me to Abbi; he let his voice reach her with his screams "You have no respect! After what I've done for you?"

Abbi replied, "I'm sick of this Seth, I want nothing to do with you."

Her voice cracked as Seth screamed once more. "If you're ending this again! I..."

He didn't know what to say, but in his eyes I could see a deep intense hatred. When I looked in most people's eyes I saw all kinds of things but in him there was only anger and pain. His hands were shaking furiously, his breathing noticeably irregular, he was losing it.

This is like a lizard person trying to describe how an angry person looks. It doesn’t make sense and it is mechanical.

Abbi still refused to look at Seth as he threw his tantrum. He yelled "Fine! Be with a guy who can't even protect himself! Idiot!"

Fine, be with someone who clearly isn’t abusive who you’ve talked to twice.

Seth got into his car as Abbi tightly grabbed my arm; her eyes remained closed like she was scared, hiding in a shell. She jumped at the sound of Seth slamming his car door.

Yikes.

Recklessly, Seth floored the gas pedal and his car lurched forward, barely missing Abbi and me as he pulled out of the parking lot.

I can’t even.

Abbi stood silently by with her eyes still closed. I didn't know how to act in a situation like this.

Trying not to make things worse I just said, "I will walk you home, to answer your question."

Abbi opened her eyes but remained silent. She nodded.

I am running out of gifs to express how annoyed I am.

We had been walking for a while, every step making us feel like we were slightly further from our problems.

She finally spoke, "So I was in Art Class and I saw your cut up bear."

I responded, "Yeah? Creepy right? Maybe it was a FUBAR idea." She laughed a little.

I forgot that he cut up the bear yesterday and not the same day this is taking place because Onion sucks ass at transitions and I actually forgot that there was a transition because it was forgettable.

"Yeah, I guess we're both kind of weird, I was all game for it." I softly laughed as I began to feel raindrops hitting my arms and neck.

"I hear running is just as bad as walking in the rain" I said.

"You get just as wet?" She replied.

"Yeah, something like that. It's like the harder you try to fix some problems, the worse they get."

I made a face similar to this gif in response to this nonsense.

I impulsively asked to confirm what I had earlier seen

"So your... Seth... is..."

She interrupted "Hopefully soon completely out of my life."

My curiosity overtook me, I asked, "What happened?"

She frowned and said, "Other than what happened in the parking lot?"

I responded "Well, I mean, I donno, don't say anything you don't want to."

Dunno.*

She stared at her feet as we continued to walk. I noticed her makeup was running. Shortly after she noticed too and began to rush us getting home.

Walking faster she said, "I'm sorry, I really don't want you to see me like this."

She continued to rush slightly ahead of me, I stopped walking and said "Hey!"

She slowed down and stopped still facing away from me.

We stood in the rain for only a few seconds before she asked, "Do you think makeup really helps anyone?"

I replied still looking at her back, "I think it helps us forget what we don't want to remember, it let's us pretend we're a little more perfect than we really are."

She laughed sadly and said, "That's one way to put it."

I smiled and replied "Makeup is just makeup, and skin is just skin. It is what it is."

I’d rather knock myself unconscious than read this waxing poetic pretentious bullshit.

You aren’t Walt Whitman, Onion boy. Shut up.

Abbi looked up at the rain for a moment and then down at the ground again. She then turned around with her rain-soaked face revealing what she was hiding under her makeup. Standing before her in the rain, looking at the results of what she had suffered, it broke my heart. Abbi wasn't worried about her makeup running for the reason I thought, she was just afraid of what I would think when I saw the bruises on her face, some just like mine.

You being beat up by someone isn’t as bad as the prolonged abuse Abbi has apparently been suffering.

So shut your fucking mouth you whiny bitch.

"Do you see them?" she asked with a quiver in her voice.

Without restraint I responded with the first thing that came to my mind, "I see beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain."

Despite her face being covered in falling drops of water, I could clearly see tears fall from her eyes.

Okay. You’ve spoken to her twice now.

While this is slightly sweet, both of these characters have given me no reason to like them or grow attached to them, so I really don’t care about this interaction.

Her head fell forward as she began to shake, her tears falling almost in sync with the rain.

Okay.

Um.

Just... Okay.

I walked up to her and put my arm around her side and walked with her the rest of the way home.

As we got to her doorstep I said "I'm just seven letters away, call if you need anything ok?"

She smiled and nodded.

"See you tomorrow?" she asked.

I replied, "I got suspended for two days".

She looked offended "Woooow! Punishing the guy who got beat up, classy!"

She looks offended? Why? James didn’t offend her.

Also, it bothers me so fucking much that Onion puts the dialogue bits after the ‘she said’ part of the sentence. That is not how you write. At all.

Fuck you.

I responded, "Yeah... well, I pushed him back."

She replied "Clearly not hard enough."

I laughed sadly looking down as she unexpectedly wrapped her arms around me.

Despite it being so cold out and her being soaked, it was the warmest hug I had ever received. I hugged her back, said goodbye and walked home with a huge smile on my face, bruises and all.

Hallelujah. Fuck both of you.

Okay, so there are many things wrong with this.

The formatting is absolutely fucked and the characters are actually so deeply bland and flavorless that I cannot bring myself to like them at all.

Also, it romanticizes abuse.

Which is disgusting.

Okay, I’m gonna get on chapter three because I apparently love suffering.

Ugh.

~Kat

[newstfionline]

Headlines

Dueling versions of reality define 1st week of fall campaign (AP) On the campaign trail with President Donald Trump, the pandemic is largely over, the economy is roaring back, and murderous mobs are infiltrating America’s suburbs. With Democrat Joe Biden, the pandemic is raging, the economy isn’t lifting the working class, and systemic racism threatens Black lives across America. The first week of the fall sprint to Election Day crystallized dizzyingly different versions of reality as the Republican incumbent and his Democratic challenger trekked from Washington and Delaware to Wisconsin and Pennsylvania and back, each man on an urgent mission to sell his particular message to anxious voters. All the conflicting messages carry at least a sliver of truth, some much more than others, as the candidates fight to navigate one of the most turbulent election seasons in modern history.

Love or hate them, pandemic learning pods are here to stay (Washington Post) Some love them. Some hate them. But nobody working in education today can escape pandemic learning pods: the increasingly popular phenomenon in which families band together and hire a private tutor to offer in-person learning to a small group of children. Teachers throughout the nation are sketching out schedules and pondering whether they can squeeze in pod tutoring after virtual school. They are weighing health risks, deciding on ground rules—should all pod students wear masks?—and asking parents how much they will pay. (A lot, it turns out.) Sometimes, they are quitting their jobs to lead pods instead. That is what Kendra Newton is doing: The 24-year-old first-grade teacher resigned from her job with Orange County Public Schools in Florida after learning she would have to teach in-person this fall. She is moving across the country to Oregon, where she will lead a pod of eight students—for a higher salary than she earned in Florida. “It gave me a way to feel safe working,” Newton said. “I will have guaranteed money coming in and a stable idea of what my life will be like because there won’t be a school district changing its mind every two seconds. For my mental health, it’s just a better option.”

Americans see skepticism of news media as healthy, say public trust in the institution can improve (Pew Research Center) Many Americans remain skeptical toward the news media, questioning not only the quality of journalists’ work but the intentions behind it. For instance, no more than half of U.S. adults have confidence in journalists to act in the best interests of the public, and Americans are more likely than not to say that news organizations do not care about the people they report on. Yet three-quarters also are open to the possibility that Americans’ trust in the media could improve.

With office life dormant, white-collar Washington is adrift (Washington Post) Greg Crist is a D.C. lobbyist who used to wear suits, and go to lunch, and spend his days taking meetings on the Hill, or in his nicely appointed office at 701 Pennsylvania Ave. Now that his office is closed because of the pandemic, Crist is a man who commutes a few hundred feet from his Alexandria, Va., home to his silver Audi, where he spends much of the day taking calls in the only place where the important people on the other end of the line cannot hear his toddler son scream. Much of white-collar Washington has accepted the reality that it may be a long time before it returns to the office, or the office-adjacent customs of the city’s glad-handing classes: the power lunches, the networking receptions, the comped sports tickets and day trips to New York on the Acela. “Initially I thought, ‘Well, I’ll be back at work by Easter,’ ” says Crist, the chief advocacy officer and head of external affairs at AdvaMed, a medical technology trade association. Easter turned into June, which turned into Labor Day, which turned into a big question mark. The politicos and super-connecters are achy, stuck at home, stranded on the other side of the work-life divide. The lobbyists are without their lobbies. The conference denizens haven’t donned a lanyard in months. That infamous D.C. conversation-starter, “What do you do?,” has a new answer: I sit at home, stare at my screen, fend off my kids, try to keep it together. You?

Mexico states run out of death certificates (AP) The coronavirus pandemic has hit Mexico so hard that the governments of several states ran out of death certificates. Officials said Friday the federal forms started running out about 15 to 20 days ago in at least three states—Baja California, the State of Mexico and Mexico City. Authorities say a million new forms have been printed and are being distributed. The certificates are printed with special characteristics because falsification has been a problem in the past. Mexico has suffered the fourth-highest level of COVID-19 deaths in the world.

Washington firm ran fake Facebook accounts in Venezuela, Bolivia and Mexico, report finds (Washington Post) When Venezuelan opposition leader Juan Guaido declared himself the nation’s legitimate president in January 2019, an Instagram account, @FrenteLibreVzla, posted a video declaring him a “new leader” who would bring freedom to the embattled nation, according to a research report published Friday. Those watching the video had no way of knowing the account was based not in Venezuela’s capital, Caracas, but downtown Washington, managed by a strategic communications firm with clients across Latin America. The firm, CLS Strategies, this week became the latest communications company to be chastised by Facebook for using fake accounts—including on Instagram, a Facebook subsidiary—to secretly manipulate politics in another country, in violation of Facebook’s prohibition on foreign interference. Facebook announced Tuesday it had closed 55 accounts, 42 pages and 36 Instagram accounts linked to CLS Strategies that targeted politics in Venezuela, Bolivia and Mexico. The effort spent $3.6 million in advertising across all three countries, a sum that Facebook executives said was notable for its size and reflective of what happens when actors with deep pockets mount a disinformation operation. The pages had amassed more than 500,000 followers. The operation by the public relations company is an example, the report says, of how Americans sow disinformation in foreign countries.

Coronavirus Crisis Shatters India’s Big Dreams (NYT) The hit that India’s dreams have taken from the coronavirus pandemic can be found in the hushed streets of Surat’s industrial zone. You can see it in textile mills that took generations to build but are now sputtering, eking out about a tenth of the fabric they used to make. You can see it in the lean faces of the families who used to sew the finishing touches on saris but, with so little business, are now cutting back on vegetables and milk. Not so long ago, India’s future looked entirely different. It boasted a sizzling economy that was lifting millions out of poverty, building modern megacities and amassing serious geopolitical firepower. It aimed to give its people a middle-class lifestyle, update its woefully vintage military and become a regional political and economic superpower that could someday rival China, Asia’s biggest success story. But the economic devastation in Surat and across the country is imperiling many of India’s aspirations. The Indian economy has shrunk faster than any other major nation’s. As many as 200 million people could slip back into poverty, according to some estimates. Many of its normally vibrant streets are empty, with people too frightened of the outbreak to venture far.

India and China agree to ease tension on border (Reuters) India and China said on Saturday they had agreed to work towards reducing tensions along their contested border, following a meeting of the defense ministers of the nuclear-armed Asian giants. Both sides deployed additional forces along the frontier running through the western Himalayas after a clash in June, during which 20 Indian soldiers were killed in hand-to-hand fighting. China has not released casualty figures for its troops. In the highest level face-to-face political contact between India and China since tensions first flared along the border in May, defense ministers Rajnath Singh of India and General Wei Fenghe of China met late on Friday on the sidelines of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation meeting in Moscow. Both countries agreed that “neither side should take any further action that could either complicate the situation or escalate matters in the border areas,” India’s defense ministry said in a statement.

Super Typhoon Haishen aims for calamitous strike on Japan, S. Korea (Washington Post) Super Typhoon Haishen is roiling the unusually warm waters of the Western Pacific Ocean. The storm rapidly intensified on Thursday Eastern time, vaulting from Category 2 to super typhoon status with sustained winds of 150 mph or greater in about 24 hours. Super Typhoon Haishen is poised to strike the same areas as Typhoon Maysak, which hit South Korea early Thursday local time, to become the second typhoon to make landfall there and in southwestern Japan in just one week. The back-to-back typhoon strikes may worsen the damage, since infrastructure has been weakened by strong winds, heavy rains and storm-surge flooding, only to be hit again.

Ultra-Orthodox Jews clash with secular Israeli officials over coronavirus measures (Washington Post) Israel’s rapidly escalating coronavirus crisis is aggravating a religious divide in the Jewish state, with ultra-Orthodox leaders accusing mostly secular health officials of discrimination and fostering anti-Semitism by focusing on outbreaks in highly observant communities. As the government struggles to contain the outbreak, ultra-Orthodox Jewish rabbis, cabinet ministers and parliament members have resisted attempts to curtail activities in ultra-Orthodox areas, including many that have emerged as covid-19 hot spots. Facing particular ire has been Ronni Gamzu, the pugnacious former hospital administrator appointed last month as the government’s “corona czar.” Gamzu has clashed with religious leaders over his efforts to impose targeted lockdowns on neighborhoods with high infection rates, block a yearly pilgrimage to the grave of a revered Hasidic rabbi in Ukraine and compel virus testing for thousands of foreign students who have recently arrived to attend religious schools, or yeshivas. Gamzu said last week that 80 percent of the most recent coronavirus cases occurred in ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods. The government expects to enact targeted restrictions Monday in 10 hot spot communities, many of them ultra-Orthodox. The tensions have riven Israel’s coronavirus cabinet, the government body that sets policy. On Friday, one day after Israel recorded 3,141 new cases—the largest single day per capita increase in any country since the pandemic began—cabinet discussions grew heated over proposed lockdowns during the Jewish holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur later this month.

Sudan declares state of emergency over deadly floods (AP) Sudanese authorities declared their country a natural disaster area and imposed a three-month state of emergency across the country after rising floodwaters and heavy rainfall killed around 100 people and inundated over 100,000 houses since late July. Flooding caused by seasonal heavy rainfall, mostly in neighboring Ethiopia, led the Nile River to rise about 17.5 meters late in August, the highest level it has reached in about a century according to the Sudanese Irrigation Ministry.

[jamiebluewind]

Why I'm So Good At Angst

Why The Latest Episode Of Fantasy High Effected Me So Much

I got pretty emotional after the last episode and when combined with recovering from bronchitis... it wasn't a fun night. I decided to write down a bit of my history to help and then I decided to post it because... well who knows? I just felt like it. Let me make it clear; I am okay. I am going to therapy. I moved 1300 miles away from these people. Most of this was years ago. There is NO reason to treat me differently because of this. But it's dark and PTSD is a bitch sometimes. So here are the crib notes on why I'm so good at writing angst. Trigger warnings abound.

Tw: child abuse, neglect, starvation, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, insults, controling, isolation, sexism, racism, homophobia, biphobia, gross imagery, sickness, mention of surgery without consent, dark themes, blood mention, rape mention, death mention, suicide survival mention, animal abuse mention, very minor spider mention (tell me if I missed any!)

Let's start at the beginning. I was born a "mistake". My mother wanted a kid, so she went off birth control and got pregnant. They were late 20/early 30s, VERY broke, not equipped to have a child, he didn't want more kids (he already had 3 from his first marriage), and they were about to break up. Instead they got married so I wouldn't be a "bastard". Turns out, that is a bad foundation for a marriage.

They were expecting a boy when I came out. The doctor said my heartbeat was so strong that I had to be a boy, so they didn't have a name picked out. Thus James became Jamie and my parents became disappointed.

I was mildly intersex so the doctors "fixed" me, but I didn't find out for years. What I did find out was how much money I cost and what a burden I was on my family with shocking regularity. Also, nobody told my mother that babies aren't cute little bundles that you can use to get more attention. They cry, poop, eat, and repeat and they need constant care. So, I started out with the cards stacked against me.

My mother was also... not the sharpest tool in the shed. Case in point, for about the first six months of my life, my mother gave me formula that I was allergic to. My dad (worked extra shifts and odd jobs to make ends meat) only found out when he was watching me when my mother went out of town. There was a substantial amount of blood in my diaper, he called my mother, a day or two later she finally called back to tell him it was normal, he got worried and took me to the doctor, and they told him I was allergic to whey protein.

Thankfully, my dad's parents lived next door. I stayed with them a LOT. Basically lived there. I would visit my parents, say hi, and then run back next door. Mamaw (dad's mother) kept me fed, never made me feel bad for how I saw the world, and was always willing to help. I had dyslexia and every night we would sit and drill my spelling words before she would sing me to sleep. Papaw (dad's father) was great too, but more of the playful one who taught me jokes and how to play poker.

Then Papaw got sick. First cancer and then Alzheimer's. I had to start staying at home a lot. I helped as much as I could. He lived a long life. I was there when he died. Death is not like it is in the movies.

In the meantime, I had school. It was tough, but I had Mamaw helping me and a friend. We hung out on the playground together for a year or two, but my parents found out and threw a fit that the teachers had "allowed" it to happen. Because he was black. Yes. They were also racist. So my friend and I were no longer allowed to be near each other. Mamaw found the whole thing stupid.

In 6th grade, I had a teacher that hated me. Long story short, long before I was born she and her husband owed my grandparents money and they were bitter over eventually having to pay it back. So she "lost" a lot of my homework and treated me like crap.

At the end of the year (after it was already over with), my mother took me out of school and told everyone that she was going to homeschool me. She did not.

Suddenly, I was my mother's maid. I waited on her hand and foot. I did the cleaning, she told my dad that she did it while I sat on my butt, and I would get in trouble for being lazy. She gave me an allowance and then took it back saying she needed it for bills (mind you while saying they were broke because of me). She told all my friends that the number I gave them was wrong and that I had moved away. She bought homeschool books and when I eventually got stuck on every subject, she told me just to forget it and that I could eventually get my GED. She never registered me, so on paper it just looked like I dropped out of school 2 weeks before the end of the 6th grade. Nobody ever checked on me.

I rarely left the house and my mother used me to con people out of money. I went hungry a lot. Sometimes she would give me food that I was allergic to which would make me sick. Sometimes she would make me eat rotten stuff (just imagine a cabbage stew that has been sitting in the fridge for weeks and has this waxy film on top and a sour smell ones you break through. I've eaten stuff like that because she said I wasn't allowed to waste food). I snuck food out under my clothes and kept what I could hidden in my room. We had a pantry full of food too, but she said I wasn't allowed to have any of it. Things like panties and bras weren't replaced as I grew and became so tight that I still have a dent around my waist and my chest. However, the shirts she bought for me were in her size (so she could borrow them), so they were just massive on me (she was a plus sized adult).

Still, I felt like a selfish brat for asking for even minor things, so I just... existed. I had a game system in my room that helped me escape. My older half brother moved in with his wife and kid and I babysat my nephew (for free) which was... something. A second nephew came along and the pair were a handful, but I did my best.

I snuck outside as much as I could. I would jump on my trampoline (before it broke). Play with a stray dog or cat. Observe a spider. I saw Mamaw (and Papaw before he died) as much as I could, but I hid what was going on at home. Mamaw was my escape, but then she moved out of her house and into a smaller house in town. That's when it got bad. Nobody was there to notice anymore, so my mother could get away with more. Dad worked too much to see.

I asked to go back to school when I was 12 or 13. My mother told me that they would hold me back three years so I would be in a class filled with children and she would get in trouble for me being lazy. It was my fault. She made me scared to go back. Later in my mid teens, she would tell me that I wasn't allowed to tell anyone what she'd done or she would go to jail, my dad would go to jail, and I would get put in an orphanage and raped every day. At the time, I was getting physical contact so rarely that it hurt when people touched me. I had a panic attack when a doctor told me to undress for an exam. So not only did I want to protect my parents from jail, the possibility of... that... it was enough for me to not only keep quiet, but actively try to keep what she was doing from getting out.

A lot of my teenage years are rather blurry (part due to monotony and part due to the food stuff). Mamaw had a stroke and I volunteered to take care of her (which I did). My mother used me to con people out of more money (unbeknownst to my dad). I got sick a lot and was often not taken to the doctor when I should have been. I waited on my mother. I took care of my mamaw a couple days a week. My mother started taking pills and gambling heavily. I was told later that she bragged to people about being able to do as she pleased as long as she got home before her husband because her daughter was at home doing chores. When I cleaned the toilet, I had to do it barehanded with a washcloth. I'm pretty sure she poisoned me a couple times. It wasn't fun. Did I mention that her favorite book was Flowers In The Attic by V. C. Andrews? She had a copy that was extremely well worn. *shivers*

At one point, I rescued a kitten from stray dogs and got my dad to let me keep him. I got a second kitten less than a year later who was so tiny she had to be bottle fed. Their names were Punkin and Hopee and I kept going because nobody else would take care of them if I was gone. I know my motger wouldn't because they weren't fed when I wasn't there. They are the reason that I fought to survive.

At 16, my mother took me to a urologist and told me that they were going to put me under to take a urine sample from my bladder. I woke up having had a surgery on my genitals to make them more feminine. Yes, I know how messed up that sounds. I had to go to a specialist when I got older for pain and get treatment for it. I'm mostly okay now, but that doesn't change the fact that it was objectively wrong. Please, if you take anything from this, remember that.

A week after my 18th birthday, my mother kicked my dad out. She wanted a divorce. She told me that she couldn't get in trouble for what she did anymore because I was an adult. The few weeks I was totally alone with her were really bad. She got a stereo, put it right next to my door, and blasted country music when I was trying to sleep. Made some excuse as to why it had to be there and that loud. We were in a well insulated house, so there was no one nearby to complain. I was so tired all the time and still had to wait on and cook for her. Til this day, I hate country music and I can sleep through most background noise.

I moved in with my dad. I had a lot of panic attacks. Some seizures. I was scared to be alone. Horded food. I was at one point sitting and wriggling because I had to pee and needed permission. I was a mess.

Dad and I were good for a while. I followed orders and kept the place clean. He insulted me some and was... honestly very harsh. He said he was preparing me for the world. He was nice most of the time though and so much better than my mother.

As time went on, the insults became more frequent. How much I looked like my mother. How I got all my bad traits from my mother. My voice could give people a headache. Useless. Dumbass. On and on. Nothing was off limits. He became so controlling. Taught me to drive, but my curfew was 8 or 9 pm. I had to save money and not waist it because I would need it later and buying anything small for myself was stupid (but he would buy random stuff all the time). In fact, everything I liked that he wasn't into was stupid and a waste of time and energy. He was better than my mother in so many ways. I never went hungry with him. He let me hug him sometimes. He would help me out with things. That was why it was so hard for me to see the verbal and emotional abuse and how much he was controling and gaslighting me. Every favor had a price. I was isolated. When I started going to college, the control became worse. The insults more rapid pace. I was beat down.

Then I met a guy whom I thought loved me. You know how it goes. He seemed better than my dad. Better than my mother. That was the best I deserved... right? He isolated me. He tried to get me away from my friends. He controled my money. He didn't take no for an answer. He used my bisexuality as something to guilt trip me over and like it was some grand thing for him to be as okay with it as he was. He made me feel like nobody else would be with somebody like me. It... wasn't good. I was with him seven years. Multiple break ups, but I always took him back. I survived two suicide attempts (OD for the first and called in before anything happened the second time after he had me go off my antidepressants). After the final breakup, we met up about the money that he owed me and he decided to not take no one more time and then blamed me for it. My best friend was on the phone with me afterward as he was texting me. My ex also said that it would make him happy if I never dated another man again. Then he sent me religious pamphlets. There's so much more, but he's not worth talking about.

I lived with my dad a year. I was broke and broken. I had my dog, my albino sand boa, and a few posessions. I didn't even have mamaw anymore (she had died a couple years prior). My ex threatened me. My dad just told me to ignore it, so I didn't pursue it legally. My dad limited the time I could be on my phone, gave me an 8pm curfew and a 10pm bedtime, and a door with no lock that I was to leave open unless I was changing clothes. He did nice things too like letting me stay with him and getting an old beat up PS3 from a pawn shop so I would have something to do, but he also insulted me constantly. I had made friends online and been friends with them for years (including my best friend mentioned before), but he said they weren't "real" friends and would ditch me the minute they had to be around me for any length of time because I was so annoying. I had too much wrong with me and nobody would put up with that shit. Just a string of insults. Dad even insulted how I laughed! It was hard to realize how bad it was due to the duality of it all.

Dad only "allowed" to date white cis men. He also said that if I ever had or adopted a non-white child, he wouldn't be able to accept it. I was chastised when I did things he considered not feminine and not "allowed" to do or talk about things in his presence that he was fine with my minor nephew doing and saying. He blew up if I mentioned anything LGBTQ+. He went nuclear when I got a tattoo to take back ownership of my body (my avatar), saying he thought I would back out and then said it made me that it was ugly and disgusting and no good man would want me now.

Through all of this, I couldn't even get support from the people in my hometown. It was a very religious area (almost infamously so). The locals considered me weird and "off". I was religious positive and supportive as long as it didn't hurt the individual, others, or society as a whole, but it wasn't for me. People were always trying to get me to go to church and praying for my soul. I was accused (more than once) of being possess by a demon that was blocking god from coming into my heart and slowly turning me half gay. Others tried to convince me that I was confusing apreciation for women with attraction and I couldn't prove that I wasn't straight (with the addition that all bisexual women were sluts and I wasn't one). There wasn't LGBTQ+ resources in town or out people to begin with (I only met two or three my entire life). I couldn't make friends. I was used a lot. Some people worried about having me around their kids. It was a stressful environment. I got pretty decent on arguing with strangers who wouldn't leave me alone (I seriously had someone screaming bible verses at me trying to save my soul while my dog was in emergency surgery so... yup). My only escape was my two best friends online and a few other awesome people I met the same way.

I moved into an apartment, but I was still isolated, alone, and touch starved. I broke my arm (oblique compound fracture of radius and ulna with a crack towards the distal end of my ulna) and my family was there for my dad because he had to take care of me. No hospital visits. I had to hire someone to clean my appartment (despite being broke) because they saw the mess as my fault as well as the injury. Dad dropped me off at home much sooner than I should have been left alone. But my two online best friends? Calling. Texting. Sending things to help. Checking on me often. One got on a plane and flew down to see me and do what they could with the day they had there. That's when I realized. They were my support system. They lived fairly close together. So, despite living in one small town my entire life, I packed up the moment I was able to and moved 1300 miles away to be near people who cared about me.

It wasn't easy. I had so many panic attacks. My one year old ESA cat Danny worked overtime. My dog passed away from kidney failure. My dad drilled it in my head that they would ditch me after a couple months because of how annoying I was and that I would either come back to [state] with my tail between my legs or in a body bag. I had to sell or give away everything that couldn't fit in my friend's small suv. It was hard, but I found a way to push through and do it. One of the last things I did was leave daisies for mamaw at places she liked when she was alive. I like to think she helped me have the strength to walk away.

I've lived here in my new home about 9 months now. I'm happy. I'm loved. I don't regret leaving a second. Sometimes PTSD will rear its ugly head like it did with the latest episode of Fantasy High. It's not something that I can control and honestly? The idea of being trapped after getting away and being stuck with my abuser again terrifies me. Seeing it happen to Adaine? It made me sick and I had an anxiety spike. I'm better today and I intend to eventually rewatch the episode to desensitize myself, but still, it was a lot for me. It's okay to not be okay sometimes and to need a break. It doesn't make me weak or bad or stupid. Another lesson for the person reading this I suppose. If it's not bad for me to ask for help orneed a break, then it's not bad for you either ^_^

I still have depression, anxiety, OCD, PTSD, health problems, and food issues. I think I always will. But I'm finally allowed to be happy. I'm finally allowd to be myself. I'm finally allowed to let myself be cared for and loved. I'm getting help. Learning techniques. Started taking CBD along with my meds. I'm finally as okay as I've ever been in my life and it's amazing.

PS: Just as a side note, remember to use trigger warnings. Even if something doesn’t bother you or most people, doesn’t mean that it wont make someone else have a bad day. Sometimes all we need is a warning to mentally prepare ourselfs. Sometimes we just can’t handle something that day, but can another. So remeber to tag, even if something seems minor to you or canon complient. Your readers will sincerely apreciate it. ^_^

[paroxysmics-blog]

❝ you can’t put the ocean in a box. she will shift, change, and retreat at will. ❞

( danielle campbell. 22. she/her. ) we spotted AIDEN QUINN-WRIGHT  in the wilds today, just another gear in the machine of the apocalypse. i heard she chose to go ROGUE for the end of the world. i guess it fits, seeing as she is known to be + adaptable & + resourceful, as well as - distracted & - suspicious. they often have supposed by james arthur stuck in their head while they hunt. i wonder if they’re prepared for what’s coming ? ( it’s trashcan faye!! )

tw: parent death

Also, this is a LONG ass bio omg you’ve been warned. I can send basics if you’d rather not read it all!!

before the end of the world,

The Kurtzman family teetered the line between working class and poverty, and bringing a child into the world in such a low-income home wasn’t the brightest idea, but they had always wanted to start a family of their own. Born to a young couple with more love than money to give, from birth to childhood: Elizabeth had always been too much to handle. Too loud, hyperactive, lacking the filter and resolve expected of young ladies raised in the South. Her parents, try as they might, had never been able to understand their daughter’s oddities, but boy did they adore her. Her early life was perfectly normal, perfectly happy, and their family seemed like one straight out of a movie. This changes when she gets sick. She is five and running in her grandparents backyard when the first symptoms show, chest tight and breathing labored. Asthma, the doctors tell her parents. Fairly easy to keep under control provided she had the right materials, inhalers and breathing treatments to keep it under control. That’s fine, they assure themselves. They’re living paycheck to pay check as is, but their child’s health is priority. The Kurtzman’s manage the added cost and life goes on as usual.

Until problems arise at school, which results in her teacher recommending she be taken to a family doctor for evaluation. It’s then that she’s diagnosed with ADHD. Another bill, something else tacked onto the long list of expenses for a family barely managing. Desperate times call for desperate measures and this pushes her parents into making a reckless choice. They decide to rise above and provide for their daughter no matter the cost, involving themselves with very shady people as a means to make extra money. The occasional job turns into unrealistic expectations and eventually debts catch up to them. In over their heads and fearing for their lives, they’re given an ultimatum. They swear they’ll pay them back gradually, they’re good for it, but that isn’t enough. Loud banging startles a sleeping Elizabeth awake. Her mother ushers her to the linen closet at the head of the stairs, and before she shuts the door she tells her to cover her ears and not come out until help arrives. “You’ll know it’s them when you hear the sirens, baby girl. I love you.“ Are the last words she speaks to her as she pulls the door shut and rushes to join her husband downstairs. They’re there to collect money they don’t have. Muffled shouts are heard and she can tell they’re arguing with someone. She moves to peek out the door and then — BANG. BANG.

She screams. Heavy feet shuffle through the house to her hiding place, but she’s already taken off down the stairs. The bodies of her mother and father lay in pools of blood in the hallway, staining her bare feet and trailing in her wake. She stops for one horrific moment to look at their lifeless forms before running…and running… until her lungs give way and her legs can’t carry her any longer. Alone and scared, she takes up residence on a park bench overnight. The next morning she wakes to a pair of middle-aged women surrounding her. One dials a number and not long after the police show up. She doesn’t move or speak beyond telling them her name, she just observes as a deputy talks about her like she isn’t there. They discuss how her parents had been found shot at point-blank range in their home the night before. “Suspected gang activity.” He says, beckoning the child to speak, to share any information she may know. She knows nothing, so she says nothing. Not that she would’ve been able to anyways. Once she’s safely collected by child protective services they placed her in the system until such a time as they found a family willing to take her on. ”It is for your protection.” They tell her on a loop, as if the more times they say it the truer it will become. The rest of her life will be spent looking over her shoulder, watching and waiting for the people who killed her parents to find her and finish the job should she ever decide to testify. It’s one spent on edge, constantly wondering who she can trust and whether their intentions are pure. Elizabeth Kurtzman legally became Aiden Quinn, a new name for a girl looking to start a brand new life.

Her saving grace comes in the form the cop assigned to her case, a family looking to adopt the girl they’d bonded with so effortlessly. The family works hard to gain her trust and she eventually caves; they’re kind, they treat her like one of their own, and eventually she thinks maybe she is. Two years pass and she’s started calling them mom and dad, their kids her siblings. The move to Milam, Texas in the middle of her Freshman year came as a surprise, one that she ultimately struggled with, but the girl had nothing keeping her in Florida beyond sentimentality. Her parents had been dead for years, she wasn’t even allowed to visit their graves – her childhood home had likely been sold to someone new and painted over to hide the death. She wonders whether the new family knows what happened there, or if the house had even been left standing period. This doesn’t matter, she reminds herself, as she worked to adjust to another new home, a new town with people she wasn’t sure would accept her as she came.

The three and a half years spent at Buckholts School passed in a haze of fist fights, detentions, and never quite fitting in. She had friends, a handful of them, but actively ostracized herself from her peers so as to keep a healthy distance between them. To them, she was an enigma; one day she was quiet, and kind, the next she was pinning a bully twice her size up against a locker for picking on a defenseless target. If they wanted to take out their anger on someone, they could take it out on her. Loud, spazzy, and sarcastic didn’t exactly make for the ideal friend, most people finding her to be a bit too much to handle. She was never needlessly rude to the people around her though, they just seldom bothered seeing beyond what she presented at face value. Her tendency to talk in class and scarcely pay attention to what the teachers were actually saying painted a pretty obvious picture: Aiden was not smart, and she certainly was not making good grades. She made it by with relative ease, however her scattered attention span and general disregard of her intelligence level downed her confidence to approach school with nothing but a shrug. Even still, she did will enough to go to college if she really wanted to. The thing was, she wasn’t sure she did.

For the first time since she was a child, there were no limitations. She was free to be as reckless as she wanted, all she had to do was wait for the day she turned eighteen. As graduation came and went in a blur of its own, the girl watched on as all her friends went off to college or settled into cozy desk jobs handed to them by their parents. But that wasn’t the life she wanted for herself. Packing nothing but a duffle bag full of clothes and other basic necessities, the first year after High School is spent traveling the country in her beatup pickup. It felt almost like a rite of passage to her; there were no rules, no expectations, only her and the open road. Other than coming home for the holidays, she saw no point in returning. Eventually her parents begin wondering when she’s going to come home for good, to the place she belongs, so she does. Her decision to enroll in the Fire Academy not long after that was met with hesitation from all sides, each person more against it than the last; but she had finally found something she was passionate about. The next three years are spent working under their Fire Department and attending courses in chemistry, communications, and computer science at the local community college.

the end of the world,

News of the spreading outbreak falls on deaf ears, Aiden’s usual amount of sarcasm painting the situation in a humorous light. For someone who had consumed her fair share of zombie media, it just seemed to be a practical joke. A well thought out, deliberate joke. Her parents play the news on loop in the living room, her siblings share stories passed on by friends from school. Things grow more grim as days pass, but she continues her day-to-day, refusing to allow herself to get swept up into the madness like everyone else. Her first encounter with the undead comes that night at work. It’s the standard fare they’re told, a house fire on third. Suited up and on the way, a new alert comes in on her phone: VIRUS SPREADING. TAKE NECESSARY PRECAUTIONS. She never checks it. The woman whose house is on fire is inside, a bite in her neck, the rising flames lapping at her ankles as she reanimates before their eyes. At first they assume she’d passed out from a combination of stress and the fumes, but reality sets in as their questions are answered with groans and a nearly successful attempt at taking a bite out of her colleagues shoulder. The material on their suits is thick enough to keep them from easily being infected, but she doesn’t think twice as she buries the brunt of her axe in the woman’s skull.

It is her refusal to acknowledge that the virus was real that hurt the people she loved the most, the first wave of undead leaving only her, her mother, and two of her siblings in the wake of a disintegrating world. A family of ten turns to a family of four. Aiden’s mother is a proud woman who stops for no one.  Before long, word spreads that groups were forming within their general area, survivors coming together to build a better tomorrow — or at the very least to give themselves a better shot at making it that long. Aiden is the first to suggest they go. She doesn’t want to take the chance that they run out of resources, get trapped within the confines of their own house, etc. but her mother is hesitant. It takes time, weeks even, to convince her, and when she finally agrees they end up setting their sights on the Ailton Tower. While not the safest place to take up residence, her siblings would always be entertained and have a better shot at having a somewhat normal childhood, whatever that may be. They make it about halfway when they’re ambushed by a pair of walkers that’d been tailing them through through the forest. Axe in hand and a determination to protect what’s left of her family, the woman steps up, but falls short. Her mother sacrifices herself for her children and she is left with yet another gaping hole in her heart.

Another loss, another family member taken from her. Believing her mother’s initial refusal to join a group to be a sign, Aiden gathers the kids and they return home without a second glance. There’s no grieving, not when you have two people to look after. Bit by bit she reassembles herself though this responsibility, and with that her will to live. Pushing through the pain, she pulls on the denim jacket her father always used to wear and sets to work fortifying their home. Already fenced and two stories, it makes for a decent place to stay. The only way in and out is over, which comes in handy when faced with people looking to loot their already low supplies. The defense on the property is holding up well enough, but only just, and all it would take was a group big enough coming through to crash through their main source of protection. From that, the majority of her days are spent picking the neighborhood clean, going house by house to take whatever she’s able to find. Most of their former occupants are gone, whether by choice to leave or because the dead got them — she suspects the ones that were foolish enough to leave weren’t much better off.

Beyond the typical issues of someone fighting for survival in the midst of the apocalypse, finding the medication she needs has become increasingly difficult. Adderall isn’t a necessity, no, but it does keep her focused. Lacking the resolve to keep her mind and body from being jittery without it, the woman worries for the day she’s no longer able to get her hands on it. Not to mention that being so active means burning through inhalers, which have become as valuable to her as gold in their new world. If she can’t take care of herself, there’s no hope for her siblings. Most pharmacy’s have been picked dry and very little remains from her own visits Because of this, she’s a frequent barterer among the Toledo Bend residents, mostly paying visits to the saints and camp Serotonin, hoping she’ll be able to get her hands on the things she needs. If this means going without food some days so that her siblings are well provided for, that’s a chance she’s willing to take. At the end of the day it’s her and them against the world, no matter the consequences.

misc,

Her bio was honestly too long, so I’m not gonna put too much in here as of right now, but she’s just!!!! my little trash baby and definitely my favorite character I’ve played to date.

MBTI: ENTP(-T)

MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral

SIN: wrath

CHARACTER INSPO: Nick Miller, Chandler Bing, Rosita Espinosa, April Ludgate, 

CHARACTER TROPES: Pint-sized powerhouse, brilliant, but lazy, defrosting ice queen, hidden heart of gold, sugar-and-ice personality, they’re just a handful lmao.

connections,

Uh, LITERALLY ANYTHING, but like here’s a few potential ideas!!

Friends/unlikely friends

Enemies/ex-friends/rivals

Ex(es)

Fwb or a fling

Good influence, lord knows the girl REALLY needs one

Alternately, a bad influence, someone who brings out the worst parts of her

Someone she just generally cares about, even if she won’t readily admit it to anyone but them 

And honestly, i’d really love someone she trusts wholeheartedly, which in turn extends to her sharing the whereabouts or her twin brothers in the event that something happens to her ( this is a big, big one !!! )

Just anything, pls!!