#class at a school I pay thousands of dollars to attend

[wlntrsldler]

hii, could you maybe maybe do like luke x reader human au and their eachothers gym crush and their always asking one another to spot eachother?? preferably fluff????

you promised yourself that you'd start going to the gym again once the new year and spring semester started. you'd been feeling bogged down by the responsibilities and workload of fall semester and it left you unmotivated to go work out. but one thing about you, if you were going to pay thousands of dollars to attend your college, you were going to use every. single. amenity.

which is how you found yourself at your school community gym ending your ten-minute, intense warmup on the stair master. you severely overestimated your stamina. you were hunched over, gripping the hand rail as you tried to catch your breath. you took a sip of water, wiping the sweat off your brow as you made your way to the weights.

you scanned the room, taking mental note that not having noon classes was a good thing because the gym was virtually empty with many students in class. there were a few people in the gym but not enough to have to wait for people to finish up on the machines. your eyes landed on a boy doing arm curls in the mirror. he grunted after every pump, scrunching his face in exhaustion as his muscles constricted under his tank top. his curls were stuck on his skin, sweat dripping down the side of his face. you were glad his eyes were closed because the way you were staring at him was borderline creepy.

you couldn't help it. he was insanely attractive.

you blinked, shaking your head as you looked down at your feet. you walked by in front of him, trying to get to the weight racks. his eyes fluttered open at the sound of you shuffling in front of him. you met his eyes on the mirror in front of you, sending him a shy smile. he stopped his actions, dumb struck as he watched your lips curl into a smile. it took him a minute to return your actions, but then he smiled, and your knees almost buckled. he was so handsome.

you picked up the ten pound weights, which seemed silly compared to the fifty he was lifting, and waddled to the empty bench two spots away from him. you could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the bench to the correct position. you tried to tell yourself that the flush on your cheeks was due to your workout and not because of the boy shamelessly staring at you.

eventually, he peeled his eyes away from you, but he still snuck glances at you. there were a few instances where your eyes met and you'd both blush furiously before looking away, embarrassed that you were both caught. when he finished his reps, he stacked the weights where they belonged and made his way to the machine in the corner of the room, where you had a perfect view of him.

he seemed to know exactly what to do. it seems like he was in the gym often, which was unsurprising given his build. it was clear he worked out or played a sport, at the very least. you re-racked your weights and walked over to the leg press. you tried out a few weights before finding the right level for you. you breezed past the first two sets of your workout, but found yourself struggling on your third and final set.

"shit," you mumbled, straining your legs. note to self: start out slow. don't get cocky or else you'll put yourself in a position where your legs might snap off.

you were pushing the leg press with all your might, hand fumbling to find the emergency lever on the machine, but to no avail. and then the pressure disappeared. and when you opened your eyes, the cute gym boy was hovering over you, a concerned look on his face.

"you okay?" he asked, offering you a hand to get up from the machine.

you accepted his hand and cringed, "yeah, i haven't done this in a while and i pushed myself too hard, i think."

"pushing yourself is fine, but you gotta be careful," he said, voice still laced with concern. "wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"thanks," you replied, reaching for your water bottle on the floor to take a sip.

"i'm uh-- luke," he introduced himself, a timid smile on his lips. up close, he was even more gorgeous, which felt a little unfair. he had a scar on the side of his face that made him look rugged. you wanted to reach over and trace the raised flesh with your thumb.

"y/n, nice to meet you."

"do you need a spot?" luke questioned, a shade of red creeping up his neck. he was looking down, scruffing the bottom of his converses on the gym floor.

"oh, i don't wanna take time away from your workout," you waved off.

"no, it's fine. i'm almost done, anyway." this was a lie. he wasn't even half-way through his workout, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to spend time with the pretty girl at the gym. he'd been watching you since he saw you, waiting for the right time to strike a conversation. it was unfortunate that an almost-injury was the opening he got. "i don't mind, i swear."

"well, then, yes. i'd really appreciate it," you smiled, getting back on the machine. luke's heart was hammering in his chest as you smiled up at him. "thanks, luke."

he gulped, blushing when his name left your lips, "don't mention it."

luke stayed glued to your side for the rest of your workout. he corrected your form, partly to have an excuse to touch you, and whispered praises in your ear that made your shiver. good job, y/n. one more, you got it. that's what i'm talking about.

after every set, luke would beam at you and raise his hands in a double high-five. you spotted him for his workouts, which deemed unnecessary because he didn't need a spotter, but he liked having you so close to him. he also hit some new prs because of it, but you didn't need to know that.

at the end of your impromptu gym session, luke asked for your phone number (for gym and spotting purposes, of course) which you gladly gave him. he waited for you outside the women's locker room as you grabbed your gym bag and walked out of the gym with you.

luke hesitated before he started walking to his dorm on the opposite side of campus from yours, "so, same time tomorrow?"

"it's a date," you teased, biting your bottom lip.

"can't wait."

you had a feeling you were going to stick it out for this new year's resolution.

#frances writes #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke with a crush is my kryptonite!

[11queensupreme11]

Didn't the Jacksons get out of being poor by selling Gabe's petrified body?

From the fandom page,

"After Percy's return and her rescue, Sally finally has enough of Gabe's abuse and uses Medusa's Head to turn him to stone. The money Sally gets from selling Gabe's statue allows her and her son to start a new life."

Apparently Gabe's statue was a huge step forward in super-ugly realism 😭 And Sally used the money for a new apartment and her and Percy's education.

i think it depends on the amount???

if it earned her millions, then it'd probably help get them to lower-mid to mid-mid-class but not higher than that cuz new york is EXPENSIVE. (the rent of single room apartment can cost over a million 💀) college is also expensive and i know she used the money to help her get back to school, not to mention there's also percy's schooling too (tho i don't remember if he ever attended private school after that?? if it was all public school, then she doesn't have to pay).

they wouldn't be living paycheck to paycheck anymore, but they're definitely not considered "wealthy". especially since this was just a one-time thing. those millions of dollars she earned are gonna drain away eventually if she isn't consistently depositing just as much money to her bank account so i doubt her income can make up for it

if it were thousands.... yeah, that's dwindling fast 💀

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

[chaifootsteps]

In response to that one anon who wanted to go to SVA, this is coming from someone who attended SVA who took art and animation classes, and I can tell you from looking back, after spending roughly two years there and going into debt because of it, that I still have yet to fully pay off, I learned that it wasn't worth it.

Instead of paying tens of thousands of dollars or even hundreds of thousands (depending on how long you want to attend) to go there and attend classes, you can learn most of the same things from watching YouTube tutorials for free, experimenting with free programs in your free time, and buying cheap books that cover those same subjects from Thriftbookstores.

Also, and this is something I learned later on, most of the time, attending schools like SVA or CalArts doesn't give you a leg up over anyone else. Also worth pointing out that most companies who have jobs in those fields (art and animation) can and will pick whoever looks the cheapest and even then, they might pick someone off the internet who hasn't attending schools like SVA or CalArts over someone who has attended.

For example, there's a funny story that later became public knowledge that during the time when the cartoon and card game Chaotic (2006-2010) came out, the people behind the company picked random people off of DeviantArt to make the cards.

This isn't to say that you should give up on yours or anyone's dreams of becoming an animator or an artist or creative, but that with the power of the internet, you really don't need to attend schools like SVA.

Shit, Anon...I didn't go to SVA or particularly want to and this is reassuring to me. Thanks for this insight.

#Anonymous #actual blog post

[adventuresofanoverachiever]

Student Loan Debt Is Not Just Useless Degrees

Student loan debt has been a hot topic in the news lately, and many people are vocal with their thoughts.  I wanted to use this post as a way to counter some of the negative comments I see about student loans using my own personal experience with my $200+ in student loan debt.

1.) “They learned absolutely nothing in college and obtained worthless degrees with absolutely no future.“

Many of those with my current education combo are nearing retirement age, and I’ve heard from several different employers (in different sectors) that it’s a growing concern that more younger veterinarians need to enter my particular field of study (related to research).  I had no issues finding a job after graduation.  Throughout my studies, I had several job offers, and I’ve still received the occasional verbal offer (”You’re a vet, our clinic needs more help.”)

2.) “Maybe they should be saving their Starbucks latte money to pay off their loans.”

I don’t drink coffee, and I don’t drink alcohol.  Yes, I will occasionally get a fancy frappe (or bubble tea), but not often and usually when I hung out with friends.  I was guilty of eating a ton of fast food during school, but I ordered things mainly off the dollar menu.  I also skipped breakfast.  Although I’d occasionally do a weekend trip (once or twice a year), I haven’t had a major vacation in many years (brought work with me if I did travel with family/friends), and I traveled cheaply.  I do have dogs, but what’s a veterinarian without a pet?  Veterinary care was cheap while I was in school since I got discounts on everything.

3.) “You signed the loan papers, you owe the debt!”

I did agree to take on the debt, and it’s my burden to carry.  I was also counseled on loan repayment options too, and I knew that income-based plans (which forgive loans after 20 or 25 years of payments) were an option.  I was also informed on the Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program.  I knew going into my debts that forgiveness programs existed and would be a viable option for my career goals.

4.) “If you don’t like the high cost of tuition, There are plenty other options that don’t require you to go to college and pay that much”

I came from a low-income family, and I am a first-generation college graduate.  If it wasn’t for student loans, I would not have been able to obtain my degrees in the first place. College isn’t for everyone.  Sure, there are high-paying jobs that don’t require a college education, but college definitely was for me.  Is it fair to deny me the opportunity to attend veterinary school because I was born into a family that couldn’t financially support my education?

5.) “These students who owe hundreds of thousands of dollars b/c they went to an expensive college...it's on them to pay for it. “

For my undergraduate education, I went to an in-state public university.  I was forced to attend veterinary school at an out-of-state school because my home state does not have a veterinary school.  Veterinary school is expensive, and many students are only accepted into one or two schools if they receive an acceptance at all.  Veterinarians are not paid enough for the debt they incur.  While I may qualify for PSLF, the majority of my classmates will not.

6.) “I went to school with a full scholarship.”

I had a full tuition scholarship for my undergraduate education and a partial scholarship for living costs.  It’s extremely difficult to get a full ride scholarship for veterinary school.  I don’t know anyone in my class that had one.  A lot of scholarships are geared towards undergraduate students, and the scholarships for veterinary students are limited and highly competitive.  I had a partial tuition waiver and scholarship for my veterinary school education due to my specific program, but it only partially covered my tuition.  My living expenses were 100% covered by loans during veterinary school.   I received a graduate stipend and tuition waiver during my grad school years (except my last semester), but it was not nearly enough to cover all costs (especially medical - student health insurance was awful). 7.) “I worked 4 jobs to put myself through college”

I held a few jobs with variable hours to earn a little extra income during undergrad; however, in order to remain competitive for veterinary school, I spent a majority of my time outside classes volunteering and shadowing.  This is all while pursuing a double-major and minor.  Holding a job during vet school is not feasible for most, although I did make some funds during the summer between my first and second year of school.  There was also a period of time in the lab where I was not paid, but I had to be in the lab when I was not in class.

8.) “further education is free if you join the military”

A few of my classmates did go into the army after their 1st year of veterinary school, but that program is ultra-selective and only accepts a few people a year (usually 0-2 per school).  Yes, I could consider applying for it now that I've finished schooling, but I’m personally pursuing a different avenue for loan repayment.  It’s also not a decision to be taken lightly, and it doesn’t work for everyone.

9.) “My son worked 3 jobs to pay his student loans off. If he can do it, so can everyone else. It's called responsibility “

At my current income-based payment plan, the interest I would incur is more than my payments.  I could take on a second job, but even with that, I’d barely be making much progress and would burn myself out.  I’m in a higher income bracket than I was growing up, but it definitely doesn’t feel like it.  My loan payments are on pause, but I’ve got a higher cost of living and have been working to pay off some other debts.  For many veterinarians, they are already working well past the normal 40 hours a week.  There’s no way they could take on a second job, and many veterinarians are already burnt-out from the spike in pandemic pets.

10.) “If the government wants to jump in and help with outrageous student loans, then cancel the interest. The banks still get their money, the student will still learn responsibility, and the taxpayer won't be saddled with even more debt they didn't accumulate.”

Canceling $10,000 of my student loan debt would only partially erase some interest on my student loans, so it’s not placing my educational burden on the taxpayers. Canceling all interest on my student loans would erase well over the proposed $10,000 loan forgiveness, so that would be a better deal for me personally.

And the most recent one I’ve seen: 

“So the people that have become doctors, lawyers we’re gonna cancel their debt?“

Veterinarians don’t make much for the debt they incur.  I know individuals with only an undergraduate degree in engineering that make well over my salary.  Some of them have been out of school for a while and are experienced in the real world, so I’m sure that contributes.  However, my point here is that it’s not fair to single out individuals with a professional degree.  A professional degree does not equate to a high salary in all cases.

I’m not looking for sympathy from the Tumblr world, and I know there are many who are in a much worse situation than me.  There are people who are struggling to live with their student loans.  Some of them made bad decisions in their education, but that’s not the case for everyone with student loan debt. The main purpose of my post was to point out that there are quite a few misconceptions about individuals with student loan debt. 

 I may be in crippling student loan debt, but I have a plan to tackle it.  I can handle it, and I’m not personally asking the government to forgive my student loans without me doing something to earn it.  I do, however, think student loans are in need of an overhaul (lower interest rates, revamped forgiveness programs, etc).  

#vet med #student loans #cost of vet school #VetMed #student loan debt #veterinary school #vet school

[protectbrowngirls]

hi, so i need advice. throughout hs i didn't really realize how badly i needed to prep for college, and when it came to applying my senior year, i got rejected from all of them except for two; i chose the one i liked due to being able to dorm, since i have abusive parents and am also a closeted lesbian. however, my father forced me to commit to another school here & stay at home? i tried my hardest to fight him but i just... gave in, i guess. but i am still planning to transfer to another college asap, i just don't know if i should continue being committed to this college or opt for the community college here instead and go to a four-year college after two years there (they guarantee you a spot at whatever college you'd like if you meet some requirements). or i might just run away, i don't know. i'm eighteen, but my parents don't treat me as such; i just figured i would ask for advice and see what you have to say, because i fear that if i don't leave now, i'll never be able to.

It sounds like you're in a really frustrating and scary situation right now. I'm sorry you're stuck living with abusive parents and unable to live the life you want to. I completely understand the fear of being stuck forever; it's hard not knowing what the right choice is and when freedom will be yours.

Transferring colleges is a good way to potentially put some distance between you and your parents. And a lot of people often have better chances of getting into their preferred schools as transfer students instead of applying as incoming freshmen. However, are your parents paying for your schooling, and would they continue to pay if you transfer to the other school? Are you willing and able to take out student loans? In this situation, it may make more sense to stay at home while you finish school so that you aren't immediately thrown into thousands of dollars of debt. You could also try to graduate earlier, or take study abroad options, so you don't have to spend 4 full years at home.

Community college is also a good option, and I'm glad you're thinking about it. I feel like a lot of brown families stigmatize community college unfairly. Taking classes at a community college may allow you the time to pick up a job, which can not only help you build up savings but also spend longer outside your home. These savings could help you transfer to the 4-year school of your choice in the future, or move out from your parents' home now. Additionally, an associate's degree will strengthen your college application and could help you get your bachelor's from a school you like more.

I also want to raise the possibility of taking a gap year from school to work. If you don't like the school you're attending now, it may be worthwhile to take a break, build your savings, strengthen your application, and then re-apply to schools that are farther from home and that you'd be more excited about attending.

Finally, I know things might seem now-or-never right now. When you live in a stifling environment, and that's all you've ever known, your whole life gets boiled down to the short term. But I promise you that there will always be an opportunity to leave. There are natural time points - the start of each school year, graduation, your first job - but you can also just...leave when you want to. This won't be forever. You'll be able to build a life where you are treated with respect and love. I believe in you.

#advice #anon #independence #education

[horce-divorce]

just thinking about that time i was going to uw oshkosh,and they had done a real bang-up job of letting me "fall thru the cracks" during my transfer, so i had no advisor to speak to and had never been given an orientation or anything of the sort and had to figure out EVERYthing, from campus maps to their fucked up nonexistent parking (that was also under construction at the time, and I was commuting!) to titanweb, on my OWN. like, alone. i never even got an ID.

and THEN i had the GALL and AUDACITY to get sick midway thru the semester, and when i went to medically withdraw the dean of students' office did NOT inform me of the ramifications and fees, did NOT refer me to the head of financial aid for a consult as was standard, and in fact did not refer me to anyone else or any other materials/resources that could help. he just tried to talk me into signing up for different classes and got annoyed when i kept saying "i'll still be sick even if I change my major." he handed me the paperwork begrudgingly and without additional comment.

so anyway i go thru all of that and then immediately get a notice from uwo, during my first ever 2 weeks of homelessness, that i owe them about $1700 for withdrawing after the deadline and if i don't pay it asap i'm going to court. that was a really normal amount of stress to be under for a guy who had just withdrawn from school for being too sick to stay awake in class anymore and then immediately got kicked out for it. good times, good times

i've never paid it and they did eventually send me to the DOR, who put a lien on my bank account (for all the good it did, I've never had any income coming in, anyway). but also, my transcripts will be forever withheld as long as i owe this balance, and i'm gonna die drowning in student loan debt for... what! nothing! an education i was not able to complete. resources i was never given, connections i never even had the chance to make. I paid tens of thousands of dollars for the privilege of having UWO fuck up my life for me. I could've done that on my own, for free!

oh, also, just thinking about how, yknow, years after all this went down, we found out two heads of administration were fucking embezzling from the uwo foundation. they 'were never accused of personally profiting' from this theft, despite the fact that NO ONE can seem to answer as to why they used uwo funds to help renovate things like an off-campus hotel. (I also heard rumors- like, actual IRL hearsay, nothing I can link to- that they bought a house or two during that time. idk how substantiated that gossip is, though.)

they took upwards of $11 million, bankrupted the foundation, and were sentenced to pay back $70k each in restitution. UWO's reputation has been forever and even further damaged, which is hilarious to me because it already wasn't great before this, at least not with anyone millennial age or younger, and not with anyone marginalized who's attended for even a few weeks. everyone my age knows it's one of the most physically unsafe UW campuses; a bunch of us also found out that hard way that they are financially unsafe, as well!

i'm FAR from the only person who had issues like this btw. in addition to the above, they did all kinds of unprofessional shit CONSTANTLY, like repeatedly "losing" my financial aid paperwork, and then magically finding it all of a sudden when my dad would call and get stern with them about having made/sent in copies in triplicate. My old roommate went to UWO briefly and they outright LOST something like $7,000 of his tuition. I don't remember exactly how it went down but I think it was at the beginning of the semester they kept telling him he still owed a bunch when his loans had already gone through, and they kept having similar "issues" of "losing" his documentation. (yes, this WAS, coincidentally, I'm sure, also during the time that the foundation was being ~improperly managed~)

I'm looking into the borrower defense loan discharge in the hopes that I can at least get my loans from UWO discharged. The time I wasted at UW-FDL and Milwaukee was my mistake, but I think I have a lot of grounds here to say that UWO misled me in multiple ways, especially about the nature of the money I owed and the withdrawal deadline I was supposed to know about. maybe if I had ever been assigned an advisor or given an orientation that wouldn't have happened?

unfortunately, the "judgement" subheader doesn't apply here, I don't think-- the criminal charges and judgement that were issues were against the former chancellor and cbo as individuals, not against the university, and I don't think university students were listed as victims here, somehow. in fact, I think uwo itself as an entity is the primary victim listed, as again, their foundation was bankrupt and it damaged their reputation so much etc etc.

Hilarious btw. I always hoped someone would pull a Papas Fritas on UWO, but if I got to see them die slowly that might be just as good. I'm not anti-university or anti-education or any of that. I've just been eagerly awaiting this particular school's downfall for over a decade. they ruined my fucking life, embezzled from me, told me to my FACE "whoopsies!! oohh sorry that shouldnt have happened to you ;( anyway, pay up," and have been holding my transcripts hostage while demanding I pay them back for the privilege ever since :) 👍

yknow just. having my little morning thinky thoughts!!! tee hee!!!

#me #prsnl #uwo

[paypant]

[blooblooded]

Yancey's Plans

LEE

“You should probably do something about your glasses,” Yancey told him dismissively and out of nowhere one afternoon. “It’s starting to distract me.”

Lee rolled over. He wasn’t wearing any clothes and already felt self conscious about the way he looked. There wasn’t anything special about him, it was why he took so much care in the way he dressed. His hair was mousy brown and his eyes were bad. His teeth were crooked. His body was OK but his stomach was too soft. “What’s wrong with my glasses?” he asked.

Yancey was already at his desk, going through his homework. He was 26 and in his second year of Grad School, on the chemistry track, so he always had a lot of work to do. Lee was only a Junior in college but he was behind, he had started two years late. “I don’t understand why you don’t just get the surgery to get your eyes fixed. You could always make yourself better.”

“I don’t need them all the time.” He only wore them to see things up close or to read. Most of the time he kept them folded up in his front pocket. It was also embarrassing, they were broken and he had to glue them back together all the time. “And uh, that surgery costs thousands of dollars that I don’t have.”

He must have said something wrong because Yancey started ignoring him. It wasn’t like he was all that good looking either. Yancey Gallo had a bland, forgettable face, he was pale, his black eyes always looked dead. He didn’t understand fashion and wore the same khaki trousers and white button ups every day. He cut his own hair, he didn’t moisturize. It was like he didn’t care about what he looked like at all.

Still, all Lee wanted was for him to pay attention to him and tell him he was doing a good job. He had never met anyone so smart. He felt small and stupid in comparison. They had met when he was 17 and had just been released from the Youth Detention Center and immediately he had been transfixed. Obsessed. Yancey would talk to him all the time and it had excited him, Lee would feel a little thrill every time he sent him nudes while he was still living at his foster parents’ house. He was everything Lee wasn’t. He was smart and likable. He did well in school without even trying. He was so driven and never took any breaks. There was something special about him, he acted like he didn’t care about rules or what was right or wrong. He only cared about what was in front of him.

It was time to get work done. Lee looked around for his clothes. When he found his shirt, he saw that there was blood on the collar. He put a hand up to his neck and winced. Yancey had bitten him. He always did that. He liked to leave marks and there was something else too, he liked to make him bleed and then lick up the blood. Oh well. At least that was better than when he told Lee to pretend like he was dead and just lie there.

He pulled on his clothes and pushed back his hair. It took him a long time to cuff his pants at the ankles in just the right way. Maybe Yancey wanted him to leave. If he started making fun of him, that was usually a sign to leave.

“Are we having a UPLF meeting tonight?” He asked. The meetings were what got him through the monotonous weeks and crushing poverty. They gave him hope for a better life, a life where he didn’t have to be poor and looked down on. The rich people, the Artificials of the intelligentsia class looked at Lee like he was trash. Even his appearance marked him as different from them. They lived their comfortable, happy lives while people like him slaved working 3 jobs just to get by. Only radical action could change Eden, and the United People’s Liberation Front made him believe that could happen.

Soon all of them would be sorry.

Yancey typed on his tablet and didn’t look up. “You and Omo have the meeting covered. I have to go to my internship at the Capitol.”

He wanted him to be proud of him. Just one little word of praise would be enough. “Kip Nguyen’s still attending the meetings. He’s really getting involved. Reads Marx and everything.”

“The Police Commissioner’s kid?” Yancey scoffed. “You get the access codes to the School District yet, buddy?”

“I’m working on it. I don’t want to scare him off.” In reality, part of Lee liked slowly working on Kip and breaking down his defenses. Kip trusted him. He didn’t want to hurt him, he didn’t want to push him too far. Kip was…well, he was sensitive. If he realized that he was only using him to get the access codes it would obliterate his self-esteem. “He’ll give them to me.”

Then Yancey did look up. He raised his eyebrows. “So why’s it taking so long? We need those codes by the time Malena gives his speech in April. What are you fucking around for? Don’t you have your creepy little psychic Ability that forces people to want to like you?”

Lee froze. Was he angry at him? He was doing everything that he asked. Last week he and Brently had stolen a couple hundred pounds of fertilizer in order to start assembling the bombs. He put his own life in danger. “I’m working on it,” he said again, lamely.

“Maybe you should work harder. Are you fucking him yet? Usually teenagers do whatever you want if you take their virginity.”

It wasn’t that Lee didn’t want that. He liked Kip. Kip was bright and funny, he liked the way he smiled and laughed. Hugging him felt good, he always squeezed as tight as he could. He would probably be good in bed too, considering how thoughtful and attentive he was. He definitely wouldn’t bite him. It would be nice to be on top for once, between Yancey and Ajax Gutierrez, it had been a while since he had done that. But truth be told, Lee was a little scared of what might happen if he took it any further. Kip’s mean little friend Marty had it out for him, and if Marty ever found out that he was banging an 18 year old– a perfectly legal 18 year old– he would undoubtedly inform the Police Commissioner.

So that was the thing. As he broke down Kip’s defenses, he had to break down Marty’s too. That was easier to do. Marty was already isolated.

Lee laughed awkwardly to lighten the mood. “Is that what you were thinking when you first slept with me?” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” Yancey’s face was blank. 

There was no way of telling if he was being sarcastic or not.

He didn’t have class that afternoon, and the UPLF meeting wasn’t until 5:00, so Lee pulled out his tablet and started to work on his own homework. A paper on ethics was due 3 days from then. He hadn’t even started. Between his job at the student paper, his responsibilities in the UPLF, and his socialization with Kip Nguyen and his friends, his academic life was falling by the wayside.

At this point was he even going to graduate? Did it matter? If they set the bombs and changed the very fabric of society in April, then why would a college degree even matter?

After 30 minutes, Yancey went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. It smelled good, like frying meat. Lee hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Usually he suppressed it by drinking coffee or vaping. 

It was too much to ask for that he shared. Yancey never shared. 

He came back with a plate of what looked like roasted pork and set it down at the desk he was working at. The way Yancey ate was like a man who was starving. It seemed like he was always hungry.

“How do you even afford that?” asked Lee. He could not remember the last time he had eaten real meat. Prosperity Inc was the only distributor of animal products in Eden, and their prices were so exorbitant that the working poor were unable to buy it. Another unfairness. 

“It’s human flesh,” said Yancey with his mouth full. “There’s a woman’s body in my deep freezer.”

Lee laughed. He liked his dry, sarcastic sense of humor. Just as long as he wasn’t making fun of him. “Yeah? Is that why you’re always biting me? Tasting me before you eat me?” It seemed like a funny joke. He wanted him to laugh. You like me, you like me. You think I’m really funny.

It never worked.

Yancey’s dead black eyes slid over him. He swallowed. “Scared meat ruins the taste. You’re too thin to even bother.” For a moment he just sat there with his fork and knife in his hands. A glimmer passed across him in the confusing way it sometimes did. “You wanna try it?”

Were they playing a game now or something? Truth be told, Lee did not fully understand Yancey. He could be weird sometimes. If they were playing a game, joking or roleplaying or something, it meant that he wanted him to stay. Sometimes he could be so mean and abrupt. It shouldn’t matter, it wasn’t like they were dating or something. When they first met, it had seemed like Yancey really liked him and was interested in teaching him. They used to spend a lot of time together. Now he was dismissive and made fun of him. They spent less time together, less than even friends would. He only wanted him around to discuss the UPLF’s plans to bomb the bourgouisie or to do weird stuff during sex.

Well, if Yancey was playing a game, Lee wanted to play too. And he was hungry. He pulled himself off the bed and crossed to the desk. When he reached for the fork, Yancey curled his lip like he was a dog who had done something embarrassing. Instead of just handing him the silverware like a normal person, he cut a piece of meat himself and lifted the fork to Lee’s mouth.

Why was he so weird? Lee ate it anyway. It had been a long time since he had eaten real meat. Fucking Prospases, they were starving Eden. He hated them. Even looking at Rome made him want to bully him, but Marty really got angry whenever he went near the yellow-eyed freak. The meat Yancey fed him tasted good even though it had been cooked hastily and slightly burned. He could not remember the taste of pork. 

“You like it?” 

Play along. You like me, you like me. Lee wiped his hand over his mouth on the off chance that any grease had gotten into his carefully groomed beard. “Pretty good. Uh, so what cut of meat is it?” Saying that out loud made him realize he didn’t like playing this game. It wasn’t sexy, it sounded stupid.

“It’s from the rump. Looks like you do like eating ass after all, huh bud?”

Ouch. Why did he have to be such a prick sometimes? It was only funny when it was directed at someone who was not him. Lee pulled out his phone.

Yancey continued his meal. He had no table manners and the way he held his fork was the way that someone who is unaccustomed to using one does. “Do you wanna hear a story about eating people?”

No matter what he said, he was going to tell him anyway. Yancey was full of weird stories.  Lee sent a couple smiley face emojis to Kip and asked him how his day was going. Kip replied immediately. He had probably been waiting all day. “Sure.”

“The rate of cannibalism increases in nutritionally poor environments. A way of ensuring survival and decreasing a population. Any animal will do it.” Yancey extended a bite of meat on the fork again. Lee took it.  A bubble of hard fat burst between his teeth. “Once there was a place where hundreds of people were trapped in the darkness. There was nothing to eat other than squirming salamanders and roots. What do you think happened to those desperate, starving people?”

“They ate each other.” Was this some kinky new thing he was into? Lee hoped that it wouldn’t lead to more biting. He liked looking a certain way and didn’t like having to cover up the marks.

“Right. The problem with that is that there was never enough. A body weighs what, 150 pounds? There could never be enough. Hunger makes people do crazy things. Sometimes they would cut off parts of their own bodies and eat their own flesh. There was a monster that lived in the darkness that looked like a man but was empty on the inside. Something that came from beyond the stars used to live inside of it. It would drag people away and open up their bellies with its teeth. They worshiped it as a god anyways. They never tried to leave and they never did anything to fight back.”

Maybe Yancey was the one who should be the writer.

“One day a boy got so hungry that he decided that he would try to kill and eat the monster. He tried to crush its head with a rock. It cut his throat with its claws and left him to die. But the boy didn’t die. He got older and hungrier and every day he thought about killing the monster. He did everything he could to make himself better, and when the opportunity to leave came, he took it. But he never forgot the taste of flesh.”

“Sounds like the people were the monsters too,” commented Lee. Kip sent him a picture of himself licking a vanilla ice cream cone. Some of it was smeared on his lips and his tongue was out all the way. He smiled. So desperate. Kip was practically throwing himself at him. “What a creepy story.”

Yancey finished his meal and set the fork down. “So do you understand why I think you should fix your eyes?” he asked. He shrugged dismissively. “People who don’t try to make themselves better are no different than the ones in that story. Like starving animals, doing nothing to improve their circumstances, waiting around to be eaten up by monsters.”

Sometimes Lee wondered if he hated him. He put a hand to his neck.

Maybe he had already been eaten up by a monster.

ECHO

It sounded like Eden was crumbling into pieces. The bombing had started almost 24 hours ago and the sound was still constant. It wasn’t explosions, not anymore. It was buildings that were collapsing in on themselves, their structure weakened by powerful explosives. Buildings and metro lines, maybe even the foundation of Eden itself was falling in on itself. Echo didn’t know. They were locked inside of a windowless bathroom located on the Residential District of the Mid Levels and had been since 10am the previous morning.

They knew that the situation outside was dire though and understood this because when they turned the sink on, it ran brown. Some of the pipes must have busted, or wastewater was draining into the system from some kind of hole. So they hadn’t been able to have anything to drink. Not that it mattered. They figured they were going to die soon, for no other reason than their own bad luck.

When the bombs had started going off at 7:45 am the previous day, every Internal Operations secret police agent had been sent out to the different districts. None of them had brought weapons, which looking back on it, had been very stupid. Their purpose had been to help rescue people who needed rescuing, who had been crushed or injured by the explosions, and to evacuate the Residential Districts to the metro stations which acted as make-shift bomb shelters. Echo had moved quickly and effectively through a very normal looking apartment building, knocking on doors, yelling at people to get out and telling them where to go. It had been fine, it had been just fine, there had been no bombs anywhere near the section of city they had been ordered to go so Echo had been safe.

Until they reached apartment 405, on the 4th floor.

They didn’t know who lived there, but he had to be some kind of crazy person or serial killer. Echo had banged on his door, just like they had banged on every other door in the building. The man had taken one look at them in their uniform, his eyes had blazed with something akin to fury, and he had hit them hard enough in the face to knock them down onto the floor, then dragged them kicking and screaming inside and wouldn’t let them leave.

That’s when Echo had known that they were in real trouble. The man had looked perfectly normal, perfectly unremarkable, but his black eyes had been fever-bright and he had acted crazed. When they tried to fight back he had overpowered them with ease, impossibly strong and fast, fighting in a method they had never seen. He had knocked their helmet off and started to strangle them, it had seemed like he was going to kill them up until the point that Echo had duplicated themself to try and even the odds. The man had looked at the duplicate, laughed like he couldn’t believe what was happening, then hit Echo in the stomach until they dropped the dupe and started to cry.

They should have tried harder to fight back. But they were only 14 years old and very small and scared. And now they were locked in a bathroom, waiting for...who knew what.

Crying was no good. Crying didn’t help. They had pulled the lid off the toilet tank and were ready to use it to hit the man who had kidnapped them whenever he came back. If Echo was just able to get out of the bathroom, they would be able to get out of the apartment, and if they were able to get out of the apartment, they would be able to get back to the dorms.

Hopefully they wouldn’t get in trouble. Hopefully the staff would understand.

Something far below them rumbled and crashed. Echo held onto the lid and waited for the door to open.

They did not have to wait long.

The man who had trapped them unlocked the door and stood at the threshold. He was white, maybe in his mid-twenties, with dark hair, a bland face, and a relaxed posture. He had an average body that should not have been capable of the monstrous strength and reflexes he had exerted the day before. What was he? Not an Artificial, he looked too plain and ordinary, too poor. He stood with his hands in his pockets. When the crashing below them intensified, shaking the entire building, he did not even react.

“You better not try to hit me with that, buddy,” he said casually, as if he was not talking to a scared teenager he had trapped in a bathroom. “Put that thing down.”

Echo did not put down the toilet tank lid. They gripped it tighter and shifted their weight.

The man kept his hands in his pockets. “Sorry I hurt you. I thought that you people had figured it out and had come to kill me— I’d heard that Omo and Brently were already dead. But they got caught with the bombs. You were just trying to get people out of the building, huh? You were just trying to help?”

It didn’t make any sense. Echo didn’t waste time thinking about what they were hearing. It was all a distraction.

Serial killers weren’t unheard of in Eden. 6 months ago some guy had been caught with the bodies of eight young women decaying in his crawl space. He had been doing weird sex stuff with the corpses. From what Echo had seen of this man’s house, it seemed pretty normal and un-serial killer-y. But they couldn’t think of any other reason some guy would trap someone in a room unless he was planning on doing something bad to them.

They weren’t about to die like that. The months they had spent in Internal Operations hadn’t been ideal but it was better than that.

“Can we start over?” asked the man with the dark eyes. Why wasn’t he scared? Everyone else in Eden had to be living in terror, cowering in the metro stations and mourning their dead. This man practically ignored the noises coming from all around them. “My name’s Yancey. You wanna tell me your name?”

Echo shook their head and did not let go of the toilet lid that they were planning on smashing down on him.

“You don’t wanna talk?”

The problem wasn’t that Echo didn’t want to talk; they wanted to yell at this man, Yancey, who had trapped them. They wanted to cuss him out and ask him why he had done this to them when they had only been trying to make sure that he was safe. But there was something wrong and there always had been. Some kind of fear or awkwardness that made it impossible for them to get any words out, especially when they weren’t comfortable. Sometimes they could when they really had to, when it was serious, like when they had been yelling at people to evacuate. When Echo had first been Recruited, right after their memories had been wiped, the handlers had made them go to the Infirmary, where the nurses had said that they had some sort of anxiety thing that would get better over time.

Yancey had his hands in his pockets. When he saw them looking, he kept smiling and took out his hands, empty. “See? I’m not gonna hurt you again. I just wanna talk. I know you can talk, I heard you scream.”

Something very bad was about to happen, but Echo wasn’t sure what.

Then, Yancey took a step back so that he was no longer blocking the door. “Are you thirsty? There’s something wrong with the pipes, Omo set off a bomb by the water treatment center. That was stupid, but I wasn’t thinking. I can get you something to drink if you want?”

They were thirsty. Their mouth was dry and after 18 hours, dehydration was beginning to set in. Echo hesitated, wondering how stupid it would be for them to accept a small kindness from a man who was keeping them locked up against their will.

But then, weren’t they being kept in the Program against their will? Hadn’t they already been kidnapped? Hadn’t they already been harmed? This was only different because it lacked the clear structure of IODE. 

And Echo was very thirsty. They nodded. Yancey nodded back. He walked away but left the door open.

After a moment, Echo walked out of the bathroom. They left the heavy toilet lid behind. Stupid. So stupid. But they did not want to have to carry the heavy thing around, especially if they intended to make a break for it.

It was a studio apartment, an oversized square. A bed in one corner. A small kitchenette in the other. There were no windows; this was the kind of place where the poorest of the poor lived-- a concrete box, almost completely unfurnished. Yancey was opening the fridge and pulling something out. He did not appear to be paying attention.

Echo crossed the small apartment as fast as they could and tried to open the door. It was stuck. They tugged on it again, undid the deadlock. It would still not open. Locked. Of course it was locked. Nothing was as easy as that. Still, they kept yanking on the door, as if that would somehow allow them to escape.

“Yeah,” said Yancey from the kitchen, as he poured a carton of juice into two glasses. He didn’t look up. “It’s rigged. I’m not as dumb as I look.”

Something very nearby crashed with deafening power. Echo flinched and covered their head as the apartment shook and dust fell from the ceiling. What if the whole thing came down on them? Would that be better? Would it be better to be squashed by a falling building than stuck in a locked apartment with a man who almost certainly had bad intentions?

They wondered if they were going to start crying again, tears were already pricking at the corners of their eyes. They were scared. They were just a kid. This wasn’t fair. 

Even though it was pointless, they yanked on the door again.

Yancey took a sip from one of the glasses of juice, cool as anything. How was he not panicking? He picked up a remote from the kitchen counter and pointed it at the television on the opposite wall, almost as if he was bored. 

On the TV, a trembling blonde reporter gazed into the camera, glistening with sweat and dust. She shared the screen with visuals of the smoldering, battered remains of Eden’s Central bank. “Center right now is just beginning to work on this story, o-obviously calling our sources and trying to figure out exactly what happened. But clearly, something d-devastating happened yesterday morning all across the Colony. And again, there are unconfirmed reports that more explosives have gone off throughout the night and into this morning. We are trying to provide more information on the subject as it becomes available to us.”

The bank had been completely destroyed. Once it had stood 10 stories tall in the center of the Mid Levels and unlike the majority of buildings in Eden, had been made of white stone. The crumbled chunks of stone on the screen had been burned black and smoke still rose up from beneath them. 

“Cool, huh?” Yancey commented, without looking away from the TV. He had a wide, almost sensual and hungry mouth, and now it curved up into a wry smile. “Nobody here realizes how quickly everything can just fall apart. Hopefully all this pain and chaos accomplishes what I intended.”

Echo began to shiver and shake again. They were still unaware of just how bad the damage done to their Colony had been, but the images on the TV frightened them. A terrible thought now occurred in their mind: what would they do if the Capitol building had been destroyed? What would they do if the dorms had been blown up, if many of the other Internal Operations agents were dead? If they were able to get out of this apartment, where would they even go?

The reporter sniffled and wiped her eyes. “W-we take you now to Mayor Jay Malena, and his address to the surviving people of Eden.”

The camera cut to Eden’s Mayor, a tall thin man with gray hair and a severe face. Echo had seen him before on TV, and usually he was all smiles, always flashing his big square teeth. Now though, he did not look scared or weak, only sad and a little angry.

“Good morning,” said Mayor Malena. “Today all of us, our homes, and way of life came under attack in a series of deliberate and deadly terrorist acts. The victims were our friends and neighbors, coworkers and leaders, children, moms and dads. Thousands of lives were suddenly ended by despicable acts of terror. The images of buildings exploding, fires burning huge-- huge structures collapsing have filled us with disbelief, sadness, and unyielding anger. These acts of mass murder were meant to frighten us, but they have failed. Our Colony is strong.”

He continued to talk but Echo zoned it out. They did not have time for this, no time to sit around watching TV. They had to get out of this apartment.

If they tried to get the jump on Yancey, he would only hurt them again. Echo knew this now. Maybe if they played nice, tried to acquiesce, did whatever he wanted from them, they would be able to wait it out and figure out how to escape.

Yancey nodded his head at the TV. “Did you know his son Harper died 8 months ago? Weird, right?”

Echo did not know. They stared at Yancey and tried to imagine all the horrible things that he could do to them.

“‘Cuz you’re his spitting image, bright eyes.”

This was stupid. Echo tried the door again. Yancey laughed. He had a mean laugh, like he was making fun of them and how scared they were.

In the background, the Mayor droned on and on about how Eden would rebuild better and stronger. 

Yancey picked up the other glass of juice, then walked over and held it out to them. Echo considered it for a moment, took it and had a cautious sip. It didn’t taste weird. Something logical in the back of their mind told them how stupid they were being, but the whole world was falling apart around them and they hadn’t had anything to drink in nearly a day. They drank the rest.

“I’ve never seen anyone make a copy of their own body,” said Yancey, watching them drink. He seemed almost bored when he said it, but there was a small spark of curiosity in his face. “Is that common in the secret police or are you the only one?”

It wasn’t like Echo was going to answer him, but they were the only one, as far as they knew. Their Ability was the only reason they were A-Class; they weren’t as strong or as smart as everyone else, but they could create clones of their own body. It was difficult though, and sometimes it didn’t work. Sometimes the duplicates came out...wrong, with crippled arms and legs or with features that were in the wrong places. It could be useful, just not as useful as being a powerful psychic or telekinetic.

“Still don’t wanna talk?” Yancey’s mouth tightened. “That’s not very helpful. I’m gonna start feeling annoyed if you don’t answer me.”

“Fellow citizens,” said the Mayor on TV, “We’ll meet this violence with patient justice, assured of the rightness of our cause and confident of the victories to come.”

Echo wished that they hadn’t been stupid enough to leave the bathroom, to leave the heavy toilet tank lid. At least then they might have a weapon.

A weird glimmer seemed to pass over Yancey’s face and the bland banality of it dropped away, leaving him appearing sharper, paler, and more cruel. An illusion? The blackness of his eyes changed to a milky, filmed-over pink and an old purple scar was visible on his throat. Psychic, of course he was a psychic. There was one psychic who worked with illusions in the Program, but Echo had never known Wicker to apply those Abilities to change his own appearance.

“You know, I just got an internship in Research and Development,” said Yancey. He no longer appeared human. “So I know. I know all about how it works. I could make sure you get back safely. I could make sure you don’t get in trouble for running away. I know they don’t like it when you IODE kids don’t come back. Don’t they hurt you guys when you act up?”

They hadn’t run away. They had been kidnapped. This wasn’t fair.

“Do it again,” Yancey told them. His filmy-pale eyes were terrible and unsettling, the eyes of something that has lived in the dark for a long time. “Duplicate yourself.”

Echo shook their head. Their vision was blurring and becoming fuzzy and their body felt foreign to them. Everything started to numb. Suddenly their hands were no longer worked and they dropped the glass. It fell and shattered on the floor. Stupid. So stupid. That’s what they got for being trusting. Of course the juice had something in it. So stupid! That’s what they got for believing that this might turn out OK.

They stumbled a little and struggled to stand up straight. When they tried the door again, their fingers could not grasp the handle.

“Yeah,” said Yancey, watching. Something in a level far above them crashed and more dust fell from the ceiling. He didn’t even flinch.“That must be frustrating. Don’t worry, it’s just an anxiolytic. I find that it helps people act more obedient.”

All of their thoughts were becoming disorganized, slow, like each synapse was moving through oatmeal. Even the panic was fading away, and that panic was what they needed to hold on to in order to stay alive. Fear was good in certain situations. Fear keeps you sharp. Echo stumbled again, then fell down, hitting their knees and hands hard. When they tried to rise up again, their body wouldn’t listen to the signals their mind was sending.

“Woah, careful.” Yancey crouched down beside them. “Are you gonna listen to me or am I gonna have to motivate you?” He flicked their forehead, which was probably meant to be playful, but seemed intimidating.

“Stop!” Echo begged. The drugs had cut through the crippling anxiety that made it so difficult for them to speak. Their nose was starting to run and they kept blinking away tears. “Let me leave! I don’t understand!”

“So you can talk, huh?”

“Why are you doing this?!”

Yancey flicked their forehead again. There was something wrong with the way he looked and moved now. It was furtive and jerky. His illusory Abilities had been covering it up. More animal than man. The purple scar on his throat stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin.

Something inside of Echo told them that this person was not from Eden.

“Duplicate,” he told them again. 

“No!” They didn’t know why he was so interested in their Ability, but understood that it may have been the only reason he hadn’t killed them when they had first met. The interest they saw in him was unnatural and they knew that whatever the reasons behind that interest were, they couldn’t be good. At this point they didn’t know whether he intended to murder or sexually assault them, or something worse, but they didn’t want to play along. 

Far away, probably in the street outside the apartment, a woman was wailing like her heart was broken. Grief and loss and fear permeated the very air. How many people had already died, crushed by falling buildings or torn apart by explosions? And all Echo could think about was how they didn’t want to be next.

Then Yancey sighed, like this was taking up too much of his time. “Whatever. OK, Harper.” He grabbed them by the front of their uniform and hauled them up to their feet. Despite being a man of average build, he was able to do it without much effort. When Echo tried to push him away, he popped them in the nose. “Quit that.” He started to pull them back across the tiny, square studio towards the bathroom.

“Stop!” 

“Will you calm down?” Yancey hauled them into the bathroom but didn’t shut the door. When he dropped them, Echo was unable to pull themselves back up, it was like their body and their mind were completely disconnected. Had it not been for the anxiolytic, they knew that they would be hyperventilating, but every process in their body had slowed significantly. Ignoring them now, Yancey twisted the stopper in the bottom of the tub and turned on the faucet. “You know, I listened to grown ups when I was your age. I would have been eaten if I didn’t.”

Water rushed into the tub, filling it. Echo listened to it rush, listened to their own blood rush through their body. Everything felt heavy and even breathing was difficult; maybe they were too numb to even cry or do much more than blink.

They didn’t know what was happening, only that it was bad. Echo had endured bad things before, they had endured psychics hurting them inside of their own mind, they had endured humiliation and mistreatment from dormitory staff. But at least there had been reasons for that! At least Echo had known that they were being punished for stepping out of line or doing something bad. Here there was no reason. Here there was only this man, Yancey, who made no sense.

“Please don’t hurt me!” begged Echo, trying one last time, their tongue numb and heavy in their mouth. 

“Why would I hurt you?” asked Yancey, looking down at them with his filmy eyes. He sounded genuinely curious, it showed itself in a weird lilt of his voice. “I think I was supposed to find you. Why would I hurt you? This day has been a real disaster, you know? I made the mistake of working with some real idiots. Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. Then you showed up, you and your gift of a replicated body. I’m lucky like that. Duplicate yourself, I want to see it.”

The only reason Echo could comprehend someone would be so interested in endless repetitions of one body was a sexual one, and they did not want to give this stranger the satisfaction.

Yancey turned the water off. He sniffed. “Be like that,” he said, then hauled them up again and shoved them rag doll-like into the bathtub.

The water was cold, gray and foul from the contamination of the wastewater pipes. Some of it got into Echo’s nose and mouth as they struggled with the weakness of their body to keep their head up. As they started to spit and cough, Yancey shoved their head down beneath the dirty water and held them there for 15 seconds, maybe 20. When he pulled them back up again, Echo used the last of their strength to splutter and wheeze and panic, their body reacting against the desires of their mind. They could not fight him. They couldn’t even get out of the tub.

It went beyond what they had imagined. Yancey appeared less bored now, as if having someone’s life literally in his hands provided him with some kind of sick amusement. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Echo fight for breath. “Gonna keep dunking you until you cooperate with me,” he said.

Echo wanted to cry but couldn’t even do that. Couldn’t even do anything but try to breathe. They were able to suck in a couple gasps of air before Yancey pushed them underwater again. This time he held them down for almost a minute. When he pulled their head up, they swallowed a mouthful of filthy water and started to choke.

Was Yancey the type of person who would be willing to drown a kid with his own hands? Echo’s gut told them that he was. Those filmy, subterranean eyes held no empathy.

Water had gotten into their lungs, chilling them. Were they going to die? Were they going to die here?! “Stop!” they wailed. “Stop, stop, I’ll–”

Yancey pushed them under for a 3rd time. It seemed like a long time. Long enough for it to hurt. Long enough for them to get really scared. 

When he pulled them up, weakly struggling and splashing, they looked up into his face. Beyond the bored cruelty, Yancey’s face had the kind of driven determination Echo had never seen before. It was clear already that he had something to do with the bombings. A man who was willing to do that was willing to do anything. A man who was willing to do that was the kind to set morals aside in order to achieve his goals.

Whatever those were.

Echo did the only thing they could.

They duplicated.

The process did not hurt. It was as painless as cutting your own hair, and took about as much concentration. A second body, nearly identical to them in every aspect, split wetly from them. Arms and legs, a torso and a head, simply grew out from the original parts and separated. Sometimes, if Echo did not pay attention, parts would get stuck. The arms or fingers would not come out correctly and would just stay connected to them. This was not one of those times. The duplicate splashed out into the tub beside them, tangled up with their own legs. It didn’t move. It couldn’t do anything on its own, of course it didn’t move.

Immediately, Yancey took his hands away from Echo. He crossed his arms and gazed at the duplicate. “Good job,” he said. “Good job, Harper. Do you think it has a soul like you?”

Echo just tried to breathe. The water that they had swallowed made them cough and hack. They wanted to pull themselves up out of the tub but were too scared to, settling on pushing the dupe away instead to make more room. Its body wasn’t right, soft and gummy to the touch. When they pushed it, it just flopped to the side limply. To answer the man’s question, they just shrugged.

“When I first saw them, I didn’t think Artificials had souls.” Yancey’s voice became thoughtful and contemplative. Something about his eyes softened, the glimmer passed over him again and they returned to the dull black they had been before. His flesh softened. Once more, he became the bland, normal looking man he had once been, no longer a monster. He leaned over the tub and placed a hand on the duplicate’s chest. “I didn’t understand how a person can be grown in a lab. You know? But they do. If you take them apart, they have the same spark as me or you.”

Take them apart? There was only one thing that could mean. He was talking about killing people. He was talking about cutting people up. Echo trembled more violently, more out of terror than because of the cold. They wished they had died. They wished they had died during the bombings instead of being stuck here with him.

“Something without a soul can be a vessel for something else,” said Yancey. He gave the duplicate a little push and watched as it looked up at him blankly with a face that was the same as Echo’s. “You think that’s true?”

“Please let me go,” said Echo.

“It is true. I used to see an empty, soulless body all the time when I was a boy. It used to host something my mother told me came from beyond the stars. Maybe from beyond the universe. Can you imagine that? We used to let it pick us off one by one, in the darkness. I told myself I couldn’t let that happen again. I told myself I had to kill it— but how am I supposed to kill something that’s formless?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll do what you want, just please let me go!”

“Gas is without form too, but what happens if you trap it inside of a balloon? You can touch it. You can move it around. The shell gives you power over what’s inside.” Yancey gave the duplicate another little push, then put one hand on the toilet tank cover. “I can figure it out. I can learn how to trap it, I can learn how to kill the demon, or send it back to where it came. It’s here, you know? Formless, bodiless, whatever. I can sense its presence.”

Echo cringed down lower into the tub as if the water would somehow protect them. They did not understand what this man was talking about. It was beyond them. The intensity, the cadence of his speech was quasi-religious and fanatical. They were aware of things that were inhuman in Eden, the crawling creatures of black slime that only people with Abilities could see. But this? Whatever he was talking about was beyond any of it. “I don’t understand,” they said.

Yancey lifted the toilet tank cover in both hands, then brought it down into the duplicate’s face hard. The force crushed its head like an egg  in an instant and the false body Echo had created collapsed into masses of black jelly. The bodies were fragile and lacked any real bones or nervous systems, but there was no way Yancey could know that. Slime splashed onto Echo, getting into their eyes and mouth. The pain they felt was brief but just as agonizing as if it was their own brain matter getting splattered. Screaming would have taken too much effort, they could only whimper.

In that moment, they did understand. For reasons that were beyond them, this man was filled with a single-minded conviction that what he was doing was right. Whether that meant participating in the destruction of Eden or kidnapping and hurting a teenager, he would do whatever he had to in order to follow the path he had set for himself. You can’t persuade a person with an indomitable spirit. You couldn’t even argue.

Whatever was in store for Echo, they knew that it was worse, much worse than this.

Yancey’s dull black eyes were like holes in the very fabric of the universe. “You don’t have to understand,” he said, watching liters of slime float upon the surface of the water. “You just have to do what I tell you.”

ESTHER AND ROSIE

“Here’s an idea,” Esther told Rosaline, as they made their way through the Upper Levels Industrial District towards the building that had once been her mother’s laboratory. “We kill him. He’ll never see it coming. We can just kill him and nobody will even care.”

Rosie looked tired. Her wavy brown hair was still damp from the shower she had taken to try and wake up. They had only been married for a year and some change and she seemed more exhausted every day.  “Stop saying that, Babes. Nobody is killing Lee. I don’t think it’s even possible. And like, we need him.”

“We really don’t need him. I don’t even know why we decided to keep him around. He can talk about how he’s grown and changed all he wants, but he hasn’t. Ayda agrees with me.”

“That’s fine but we can’t just try to murder someone for making us a little uncomfortable.”

Esther didn’t agree with that at all. She didn’t forgive and she didn’t forget. She would never forget how Lee had tricked all of them when they were just teenagers. Why had they been so stupid back then? It made her so angry! He had hung out with them alone for months and none of them had even realized how much danger they were in. He had given them alcohol, he had given her little brother and sister alcohol and they had only been 14 years old! She had thought Kip had died because of him! And now Kip was back, he was finally back, and he was so...broken.

She knew whose fault that was.

When Lee had driven up to save them all while they were wandering and starving in the wilderness, they had needed him. Now they didn’t need him. Now she wanted him to die. 

“I want to hurt him.” Esther stuck her hands into her pockets. The prosthetic arm was clumsy. After an Internal Operations agent who happened to be Kip had crushed her arm from the elbow down with an energy bubble while they were trying to escape Eden, she didn’t think she would ever get used to it. Now it was just as much a part of her life as Rosie was. 

“Hurting him isn’t gonna change what happened. It’s not gonna make Kip better.”

Why did she always have to be so good? She was right, but it brought Esther no satisfaction.

They continued walking. Most of the people who worked in the Industrial Districts didn’t even look at them, all they cared about was their work. The one on the Upper Levels was nothing like the ones down below, there were no stinking, noisy factories here. There were labs and research companies, all run by members of the intelligentsia class, mostly Artificials. Esther had always assumed she would end up working here. Now she didn’t fit in.

Well, it didn’t matter that she didn’t fit in. Breaking herself down to become the best that she could be just wasn’t worth it. She was happier that way. She had never been able to be her Mother’s perfect little doll. Since the day she met the Nguyens as a kid, she had wanted something else.

A late-stage Artifical with an eerily perfect face passed by them, tightening his lips as his eyes passed over Rosie. Esther was not the only one who did not belong here. The strictly enforced class system in Eden separated them all. With the constantly rising popularity of genetically modified children in the Upper Class, people’s differences were all out in the open. It only took one glance to know whether or not someone came from money. It only took one glance to pass judgment.

Esther took her hand, her flesh and blood hand, out of her pocket and held Rosie’s as they walked.

It didn’t take long to reach Mom’s lab from the subway terminal. Compared to some of the other buildings in the District, it was of a modest size, only two stories. It was built from gray concrete in the same sharp, Brutalist style that dominated the architecture in Eden and had green vines growing up a trellis on one side. Esther felt a chill when she looked at it. Some of her worst childhood memories came from inside of that building.

Part of her was glad that Mom had died while she and the others were gone. It was easier that way. It was easier that she didn’t have to see Dad’s grief. But part of her, the part that was just as harsh and cold as her mother wished that she was still around. If she was still around, maybe she could help Rosie understand the changes that had been made to her body. There was so much that they didn’t know.

“Is Evangeline already there?”

“She’s been there since 5.” Ever since returning to Eden last month, a new fear had overcome Esther. This place and its expectations were breaking her little brother and sister. They weren’t even out of Grad School yet but it seemed like the pressure of high achievement was making them crack. 

Mom’s lab had no security, not even an access code to get in the door. What kind of idiot would break into a place where the wealthy paid to genetically engineer their embryos? In the past, anti-Artificial fanatics from the Weil Church had protested outside, and Mom had called the police to shoot them with rubber bullets. But the technology inside, the bodies inside were worth more than anything in Eden. If Esther was a thief, this was where she would start. Imagine kidnapping something that had not yet taken its first breath.

The glass doors slid open, leading to a long white hallway that smelled of chemicals. A crew of cleaners came twice a day. It was imperative that no outside pollutants affect the growing embryos. Mom used to make Esther and the twins scrub their hands before coming inside.

For some reason she felt comforted by this place. How strange. It used to scare her. Now it felt normal. Compared to all the strange and terrifying places she had been, compared to the wilderness, the Northern Territories, the Lost Colony, it was normal.

There were a few techs scurrying around the halls. They didn’t even look at them. Too busy. Esther did not recognize any of them. A lot had changed since her mother ran Evophene. 

“4th door on the left,” said Esther.

“I’ve been here before, you know,” said Rosaline.

Esther knew that. She didn’t like to think about it. She held her wife’s hand a little tighter.

The lab was a big white room full of glass and metal. The back wall was lined with shelves that held the little globes containing genetic material and  embryos at their first stages of development. After the appropriate modifications were made in the lab, the embryos would either be taken to the vats on the second floor, or be destroyed. In the middle of the room was a long metal table covered with computers, beakers, syringes, and chemical compounds.

Evangeline sat at the table, pushing a needle into something gooey inside of a Petri dish. She looked up when her sister and Rosie walked into the room. She wore her red hair clipped back from her face and plastic goggles over her eyes. For a moment she looked exactly like Mom. “You’re late,”she said. That sounded exactly like Mom. “Nobody followed you here, right?”

“Anyone who would follow us has bigger things to worry about right now.” Yesterday the blood magic cult known as People’s Heaven had killed two young women and left the disemboweled bodies in front of the Central Bank. It was all over the news. 

Things were getting worse in Eden. Things did not feel safe. Fear and discontent were bubbling up everywhere. Crime was on the rise and it went hand in hand with brutality from both the police and Internal Operations. The government could not control itself, the economy was in shambles. Months ago, when the Northern ambassadors had arrived in Eden, Florence Gauthier had been shot. Now there was talk of flat out war. It would be easy for chaos to overtake the Colony.

Riots kept breaking out. Ever since Valentine Prospas’s interview on AGA news about what really went on in Internal Operations, people were on the edge of all out revolt. Of course they were. They wanted to keep their own children safe and could no longer trust the government to do that.

Things were really bad. But at least she had Rosie. That’s why they were doing this.

“Were you able to find Yancey Gallo’s research?” asked Rosie. She walked towards the table. She was hiding her discomfort with this place but Esther could see it in her.

“He still comes here, you know,” Evangeline said nervously. “I don’t know why Mom even hired him on as a contractor. He doesn’t even have a PHD, he’s just a chemist. But I can’t get rid of him.”

Can’t or won’t? It was no secret that the company was in shambles. Its stock had lost half its value and a handful of competitors had sprung up during the time Esther was gone. But she didn’t have any say. The twins were the majority shareholders, not her. Once they finished school, they would run it themselves.

Not that she wanted anything to do with this place. It seemed evil to her now.

“Do you know when he comes in?”

“On the weekends. I think he teaches chemistry part time up in the School District.”

He did. Ayda had recognized his name, even though she worked with middle schoolers and he worked in the high school. She hadn’t remembered much about him other than that he was quiet and kept to himself. Rosie and Lee had different perspectives.

That was the other reason they kept Lee Harlan around. His body had been violated in the same way Rosie’s had. They had been injected with the same otherworldly substance. Why then were they so different? Rosaline’s changes were external, she could twist and change her body, growing stronger, larger. It made her look like a monster. Lee’s changes were hidden. He could not be killed and when he slept his mind went to the Void. Was it because he was psychic? What was the difference between them?

There were others too. Esther had seen them in the Lost Colony and that was almost too horrible to remember. In the North, Olive Vernier had told them about the North’s dead Princess, whose body had been changed by the blood magic cult of Blagodat. It seemed as if this knowledge had originated outside of Eden. So where had it come from?

Too many questions. It was frustrating. Maybe here they could find some of the answers.

Evangeline pushed aside her petri dish and peeled off her gloves. She typed something on the keyboard beside her and turned the screen towards Esther and Rosie. “Go ahead and look at his records. He’s not great at documentation, I already read through it all. There’s nothing you guys would be interested in. Most of his work is on chemistry-to-gene screens in the family ichneumonidae.”

“Ichneumonidae?”

“Parasitoid wasps.” She pushed her goggles up to her forehead. Red indentations ran across her nose and cheeks. “You know, the things that made Darwin question his belief in God.”

Esther scanned through a couple of Yancey’s abstracts. There was a lot of terminology she did not understand. He seemed most interested in the chemical aspects of the ichneumonoid’s reproductive cycle, where the insect injected its eggs into a still living host. There was a difference between the kind that paralyzed the hosts and the kind that allowed them to continue to move as the eggs grew inside of them. In both cases, the ichneumonid larva fed on the bodies of the still living hosts before pupating. 

“Doesn’t that sound like the Book?” said Rosie nervously.

“There’s no way this guy knows about all that. The only people in Eden who know about the Book are us and Cihad Tariq.” said Esther, frowning. As she continued to read, the coincidences grew more and more evident.

In addition to general host quality, ichneumonid females are able to differentiate between parasitized and non-parasitized hosts and are even able to distinguish hosts pre-parasitized from those previously parasitized. In general, pre-parasitized hosts are rejected more often. If females decide to oviposit nonetheless, fewer offspring and higher relative numbers of males are produced. The means by which ovipositing females assess the parasitization status of hosts has not been identified yet, but chemical messengers are likely involved. Watkins(AR 865) hypothesized that female venom injected into the caterpillar during oviposition might act as a cue and Harvell and Goodman (AR 867) recognized changes in the hosts' hemolymph composition after the injection of venom.

The image of a wasp penetrating a caterpillar to lay its eggs inside was vivid and disturbing in her brain. It did remind her of the Book. When it was inside of Kassidy, it sapped her energy and wasted her from the inside out. In the Lost Colony it had tried to pass from her and into Tony, claiming that he was its ideal host, he was the body that it needed. Esther scrolled through the rest of the abstracts. “Is this all there is?”

“Creepy,” said Rosaline.

It didn’t make any sense. “Mom was letting him use her CRISPR all these years to study insects?”

“Well I’m pretty sure they were having an affair, so there’s that,” Evangeline said stiffly. She pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and picked up the needle to begin prodding at her Petri dish again. “It’s not just insects. A couple weeks ago he brought in some genetic material and registered to start creating viable embryos. I had to sign off on it and everything.”

“Yancey doesn’t seem very parental,” said Rosaline. She gestured at the computer. “More like an insect.”

“It’s not like we can afford to properly vet potential parents anymore.” Esther’s sister pulled down her goggles. She was so brittle now. Overworked. Too much pressure. She was only 24 and had been forced to take over the company. Did she even want it? “Anyways, he’s not even paying to modify the embryos. Says the genes are already good.”

Something about that gave Esther a chill. She thought about the ichneumonid wasps and their similarities to the Book, the similarities between what they did to caterpillars and what it wanted to do to Tony. Was it even possible for Yancey to be aware of that? There was no connection between that and what he had done to Rosaline, to Lee.

No connection apart from the invasion of another person’s body.

It was so weird that a person like that wanted to be a teacher, even part time. It seemed a little predatory.

“So this was pointless,” said Rosie. “There’s nothing here about what he did to me. Or the others. I mean, there have to be records.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry, I guess. He’s a contractor, he’s probably working out of half a dozen different labs. He used to talk about going into Research and Development too.”

“There’s no way for us to even get close to that place. It’s crawling with secret police.” Rosie’s frustration was palpable. Her eyes had gone from brown to amber.

Esther clicked out of Yancey’s files and accessed the embryo request form database. There were hundreds of requests there. Hundreds more children just like her would be created that year. Every year Artificials were becoming more and more unnatural. She was starting to feel like it was wrong. ‘G’ for Gallo. She clicked on the request.

“He’s using his own sample?” She grimaced. 

“What, like it’s hard to jerk off into a cup?”

Rosaline rested her arms on the table. She pushed a microscope away from her. “Yancey didn’t seem like the jerking off type. I always felt like he was dead.”

That wasn’t true either. Lee had told them otherwise. Probably to shock them, maybe to try and squeeze some pity out of Marty. He had told them all about exactly what had happened to him when he met Yancey Gallo at 17. It got no pity out of her. He made it seem like Yancey didn’t care about or understand Eden’s laws surrounding that kind of thing. Maybe that was why Lee had turned out the way he did. 

Egg retrieval was more difficult than semen collection because a large needle had to be inserted through the abdomen, all the way to the ovaries. From there, the eggs were gently suctioned out. Because of the pain, the donor was always put under sedation. Sometimes there were complications, mostly air getting trapped inside the body. None were noted here though. Her eyes passed over the donor name and she froze. She read it again.

The name of the donor was Cynthia Tariq.

Esther felt her back stiffen and her breath go shallow. She read the name a 3rd time, just to be sure. There was no other information listed in the request, no date of birth, not even blood type. How common was that name in Eden? Another coincidence? Another connection? She had to stay calm.

Her mind returned to the parasitoid wasps and their hosts. The unrelenting and violating ovipositor. The squirming caterpillars. 

Hey Rose,” she said. Her voice sounded as cold and heavy as a stone. “How old is Tony’s daughter?”

“Cynthia? I think she’s in high school, why?”

Her blood went cold. Of course. And Yancey Gallo taught chemistry part time at the high school. Convenient. It was convenient that he had experimented on Rosie and Lee’s bodies, injecting them with an alien substance from the same place as the Book. It was convenient that he was studying parasites and their hosts. It was so convenient that he had collected the genetic material of a girl directly related to a man who the Book wanted to use as a host, whose mother had died as its host.

And he wanted to create a child using his DNA as well. Why? Tony said that Cynthia was different, that her body was changed as well but naturally, that just like Rosie and Lee, she was partially human and partially…other. Esther didn’t know, but it had become instantly apparent that Yancey knew about the Book as well. Where had he come from?

This line of thought was cold and she knew it. At the heart of the matter was a little girl. Best case scenario, she had been stuck with a big needle. Worst case? She didn’t know.

Suddenly the stuff Lee had told them about Yancey messing around with him when he was 17 didn’t seem too funny.

Esther looked down at her hands. The prosthetic one gleamed metal in the harsh light of the laboratory. She stood up like she was in a trance and walked to the shelving on the back wall.

They were labeled alphabetically by the name of the person who had sent the request. Esther went to ‘G’ for Gallo. She slid it open. The air inside was cold, it had to be kept cold to maintain the integrity of the genetic material housed there. Each sample was stored in a small metal canister with liquid nitrogen inside until the fertilization process took place. She looked over dozens of canisters.

“Hey,” said Evangeline sharply. Her pale, pointed face flushed. “Get out of there, those have to stay cold.”

“Babes?” Rosie looked confused.

She picked up the canister with Yancey’s name on it. The cold metal chilled her to the bone. The anger she felt was cold as well. Cynthia was a stranger to her. She had never met her. Despite this, there was the urge to protect her. 

How did Tony not know about this? Had Cynthia learned how to conceal herself from the Sight? Was that even possible? 

She unscrewed the top of the canister. A burst of white condensation puffed out of it.

“Don’t do that!” Evangeline stood up, shocked. She put her hands out. “Seriously, are you crazy? That belongs to someone, that’s going to be someone’s kid!”

No it wasn’t. Not if she had anything to do with it.

Esther looked at Rosaline. “I think Yancey knows about the Book. I think everything he’s been doing has to do with the Book.” She reached inside of the freezing canister with her prosthetic arm and pulled out what was inside. Two little glass vials. One was filled with a white substance and the other one was clear with bloody specks. Holding it made her stomach churn. “Why else would he be trying to make a baby with Tony’s daughter?”

“What?!” Rosie put her hands over her face. “That’s–no, what?”

“Esther, put it back.” Evangeline slowly edged towards her. Her eyes were very wide. “Don’t get me in trouble.”

She didn’t care. This wasn’t something she had to think about. Esther hurled both little glass vials down onto the tile floor. They were fragile and smashed instantly, glass shattering, the liquids inside splattering. She stomped down on them for good measure. It felt good. It felt a little bit like revenge. He had taken something away from Rosie. Now she was taking something away from him.

There would be more time to figure out what he was doing, but she felt like she was on the right track.

“Creepy fucker,” she said, clenching her teeth.

“What’s going on in here?” someone asked mildly. It made Esther jump. She turned toward the laboratory door.

It was as if he had appeared out of nowhere. He was a bland looking white man in sensible, utilitarian clothing. His eyes were black, as was his hair, which looked like he had cut it himself. His posture was relaxed and did not exude any ill will. He was holding a lunch box.

Rosie made a small, scared sound, and stepped back towards Esther.

Static built up in her body. Her hair started to rise.

“Mr. Gallo,” said Evangeline, who had frozen in place. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yeah. I forgot my lunch box.” He held it up, like that was an explanation. His black eyes slid over Esther and Rosie. “I told you to call me Yancey, kiddo. We’re practically family now. Who are your friends?”

Was he fucking with them? There was no way he did not recognize Rosaline. It had only been a couple years. Esther grabbed her wife’s hand. As far as she knew, this man was not a physical threat. If she had to, she could really hurt him.

She might really hurt him even if she didn’t have to.

“Come on,” Rosie told him. Some of her bones cracked. No, no. Not here. Not where people could see.

Yancey shrugged. “I’m bad with faces. My mother used to tell me it would get me into trouble some day.”

“My sister and her wife.” All the blood had drained from Evangeline’s face. “They were just leaving.”

“I thought your sister got shot by Internal Operations a couple years ago.” Yancey squinted down at the floor, at the shattered glass and splattered genetic material. He frowned in the stilted way someone who is not used to emoting does. “Uh. Am I going to get my deposit back for that? I mean if you give me some time and promise not to check my internet history, I could give you another sample right now, but it’s going to be another week or so before my lady friend ovulates again.”

This was too much. Esther wanted to smash something else. “You better stay away from that little girl,” she said, and now her voice sounded like her mother’s. “What do you even want? Why are you doing all this? Is it the Book? You’re working for it, aren’t you?”

Yancey’s eyes were like black holes in his face. A strange glimmer passed over him. Lee had said that he was some kind of illusionary psychic, like Vega Pelanato was. He could control people’s perceptions, appear boring and harmless. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “No need to get so aggressive.”

More of Rosie’s bones cracked. Her arms were slowly lengthening.

“Lee told us all about you.”

“Lee Harlan?” Yancey laughed. It was a short, barking, unnatural sound. He straightened the collar of his shirt. “Ew. I wouldn’t listen to that guy if I was you, Esther. Your name is Esther, right? No, he’s completely insane. Has he told you about what he does at night when his mind wanders to the Void beyond the stars? Nasty stuff. Don’t get yourself so worked up over assumptions. You know what they say about assumptions.”

Now the hair on the back of Rosie’s neck was growing longer. “Was what you did to me an assumption too?”

He frowned again and shifted his lunch box. “I don’t even know who you are. Looks like someone injected you with ichor and you survived it. Good for you. 99% of people don’t.”

This motherfucker.

He just stood there, looking at them. The glimmer passed over his face again. He was so normal. “Anyways, I’d love to stay and chat but I have to teach a class on ionic bonding in an hour, then get back up to Research and Development. I was just here to get my lunch box.” He smiled. It was as unnatural as his frown was and his teeth looked...red. They were stained, just as the survivors in the Lost Colony’s teeth had been stained from chewing on the roots that grew there in the dark. “I’ll see you guys around. Don’t mess with my samples again. I really don’t want to have to create an embryo the old fashioned way.”

And he turned and left, as easy as that.

What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she done something? He had been right there, so polite and disarming. It would have been easy to smash his face into the ground and he deserved it. That was just for the things she knew he had done for sure! His involvement with the bombings, twisting Lee into a monster, hurting Rosaline, and now Cynthia? He hadn’t even denied it!

Seeing him had thrown her off. There was something about him that kept her from wanting to hurt him.

Those teeth. Just like in the Lost Colony. And Tony had said that the old woman there had told him to look for her son…

“Babes?” Rosie was still holding her hand. Her broad face was solemn. “I’m pretty sure he was here the whole time.”

That fucker.

She needed to know more. 

She looked over at her sister. Evangeline was pale and trembling, holding herself. Why was she so scared? She wasn’t the one who needed to be scared. It wasn’t like she knew what was really going on. Esther intended to keep it that way. Her family did not need to know about the Book when there was so much more to worry about. Rosie was the one who needed to be worried. Cynthia was the one who needed to be worried. She sighed, suddenly exhausted.

There was too much to do.

But first she was going to have to call Tony.

#writing

[theroadsofargone]

Am I stupid for wasting time and energy into making it?

Absolutely. 100%

But it’s so ✨pretty✨

This is what happens when I don’t pay attention 😂

#better than paying attention in class #class at a school I pay thousands of dollars to attend #but fuck it #it’s so pretty #no mistakes were made #supernatural #supernatural aesthetic #black and white #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #ios14 #roadysthinks

[clowngremlin]

Once i drop out of art school, im going to make a t shirt that says "i went to art school and all i got was this lousy t shirt (and debilitating depression and anxiety)

#this is my way of telling u all that im dropping out of art school after this semester #had a massive break down over it and told my dad that art school was ruining my ability to enjoy making art #and that it was making me suicidal #so my dad agreed that it is for the best that i drop out after the semester is over #and maybe take some time off school to work #or go back to community college and study psychology or something #i was worried my dad would be upset with me wanting to drop out and force me to stay in art schooo #*school #but he was like I'd rather have an alive son who's happy with his life than a miserable son with a bachelors in visual arts #or worse a dead son #so! im a future art school drop out #and im going to level with u all and tell u that i learned nothing of note at the art school im going to rn #im getting a useless degree that i can't do anything with and i havent learned anything that helped me grow as an artist #i hate to say it but unless ur going into something like graphic design or animated or illustration #going to art school doesnt even matter like its basically useless and ur just paying to say u go #i go to a prestigious art school and im literally paying thousands of dollars just to have the name on my resume #but i havent learned a damn thing since starting there in 2018 #i learned more in the fine arts program at the community college i attended!!!!! #all going to a fancy art school did was make me hate making art and made me insane #like i couldn't take the pressure of it or how the other students treated me in my art classes #like everyone was so fucking mean #and it drove me to cope by self harming again and it worsened my anorexia #and it genuinely made me suicidal #so i am dropping out and i have come to the conclusion that art school is bullshit like my older brother said #u dont need a degree to make art u can just make it as a form of self expression #art school sucks because they are trying to capitalize on self expression and make it academic #its fucking ART!!! its so human and not cold and unfeeling and clinical like school wants to make it #so tldr FUCK ART SCHOOL

[ms-demeanor]

*Peering through my glasses at some discourse on the dash*

Most humanities majors don't actually think they're going to get a dream job lecturing about their special interest at fancy universities for hundreds of thousands of dollars; they are capable of looking at their professors, who are people with PhDs in the subject they're studying who aren't doing that exact thing, and recognize that even getting a tenure-track job at a local school is a pain in the ass. Most humanities majors take easy classes that they enjoy with the understanding that they'll learn project management and research skills that will be useful in a variety of industries while absolutely seething that they are expected to get a 4-year degree for an entry-level job or a temp position.

And the vast, vast majority of humanities majors don't pay $200k for the privilege.

So I get that yeah it's fucked that people are expected to have degrees for all sorts of things that they don't need degrees for but if you're blaming the people studying humanities (or saying that studying the humanities is a luxury and should be treated as such) you're aiming at the wrong target.

For the record, I don't think there's an easy solution to this problem because I think that bullshit hiring requirements are essentially a mechanism to sort by class/neurotypicality/ability level than a tool to actually hire people who have the kinds of skills that a degree in their subject of study would confer. Maybe alongside normalizing talking about salaries we should normalize listing applicable skills and experience on resumes without talking about graduating from college, except that you don't even send resumes anymore, you fill in applications on a company's website where "level of education" is a required field.

It *IS* bullshit, but how many kids who got lit degrees at quarter-million dollar schools actually ARE there? Is this a real concern or is this a popular bogeyman? Isn't the opposite problem - kids graduating with, like, computer science degrees who have no practical experience and no current certification and can't be trusted to babysit a server farm - a bigger issue facing recent grads and hiring managers alike?

The one dude I know with a classics degree is the VP of distribution at a mid-sized seafood plant; he doesn't need that degree to do his job, and he's learned more about his job from his job than he did while signing up for summer digs in athens. That being said: he needed a degree to get the kind of job that would lead to his current job, and knew that, so he figured he might as well study a subject that he liked that gave him the opportunity to do archaeology in a beautiful place for three weeks of the year.

My degree in English Lit is totally unnecessary to my job, but it is why I got the job and it has more than paid for itself as a result (though, again, I'm a huge proponent of state schools and community colleges because I got my diploma for about twelve grand, which is about 7% of the price being cited as the cost of luxury college).

Also: if you feel secure enough in your financial situation to attend a school where a Lit degree DOES cost 50k a year you are already in the group of people who likely don't have to worry about things like 'rent' or 'getting paid a living wage in grad school' and are much more likely to be one of the people who DOES successfully land a cushy job at a nice university because you are *already* the kind of person who has a bunch of connections at USC because you could afford to consider going to USC.

[chichiscloset]

𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫!

A new semester has begun for us, Young ladies! It is important as Divine feminine young ladies, to take pride in taking care of our wellbeing, Appearance, surroundings, Network, & meet like-minded individuals. No matter what program you end up taking!

I just entered my second year of Uni in September, so far it's been going by super fast! I won't lie to you, It's been a bit of a bumpy ride! Managing balancing my school work, running my blog page and extra-curricular activies. Thankfully, I am managing quite well and just finished writing all my midterms! I wanted to share with you girlies some of the few ways I've been able to fully embrace my femininity while in University+ the best ways to mingle with potential bachelors on your campus community.

𝟏. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆!

Yes, I know! This is a bit superficial. But I need to give you the truth! We are all judged by our appearances first in life! so why not start by leaving a good impression! On your classmates, lecturers, and staff on campus. You don't want to be that person, rolling into class with the same PJ's worn last night. Unkept hair & nails.

People address you based on your appearance so always making sure you look well kept and put-together is a must.

My mother always taught me "you dress the way you want to be addressed!". If you look like a princess you'll be treated like one and if you look unkept.. people will treat you as such".

If you are like me and hate planing out outfits for the day of your classes. Try planning them a day, or two before your actual lecture. So you won't feel like you are pushing yourself. If you wear makeup. Try waking up an hour or two earlier. To pamper yourself & wear put on a light beat of makeup.

Since we wear masks on our campus my time is cut in half! only light concealer, light blush, and mascara (when I don't have lash extensions.)

Since my semester started in September people have just been treating me 100% better. I've had both men and women open doors for me. A random guy paying for my lunch, and had way better feedback from my professors during class time! Trust me you don't want to slack on your presentation! You are your brand and you must treat yourself in the highest regard.

𝟐.𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞-𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬!

Network, Network, Network! Think about it you’ve paid thousands of dollars to attend the college/university you are enrolled in now. As a student, you have access to upcoming doctors, engineers, nurses, business owners, lawyers, etc. You mingle with some of the best people in academia in your city, people with MSC's Ph.D.'s and so much more! This is the PERFECT opportunity, for you to meet other leveled-up feminine women, future associates, bachelors, or even a future spouse 😍. Listen, you only have four years so make it count! Join clubs, societies, sororities (if available)& meet as many people as possible! You’ll never know who might come in handy after graduation.

Getting good grades and a high GPA is important. However, having good connections with people will take you further in life. It holds more weight than your degree alone. So make the best of it while you're still in there.

For the love of all things good! Stay away from Hook-up culture!

I do promote that you date in college. it’s an excellent way to practice how to properly vet the men who seek interest in you. Don't be fooled, some of these guys on your campus are simply looking for “a good time." It is up to you to fish out the serious men, from non-serious men. Find out what their goals are in life, where they see themselves in 5 years? Do they want a family in the future? ask as many vetting questions as you can before and during your date.

Make sure that guy takes you on a PROPER date! “Netflix and chill” IS NOT A DATE! Yes, I know your roommate might be doing it, your classmates are doing it and those hormones are flowing. But, you don't want to be given a bad label! Honestly... it’s not worth it. Need some game when it comes to dating? Check out this post here.

𝟑. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭/𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐦-𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲!

You will be spending A LOT of time in your dorm room/apartment during the semester! Wouldn’t you want your room, to have a “homey” "Calm" welcoming appearance when you walk inside? Your room is a reflection of how you treat yourself both inwardly and outwardly. People will notice! If there is dirty laundry on the floor, dirty dishes & you haven't changed your bedsheets. Take this as a sign to change the way you live ASAP! 

You might be living with someone else. So it's important to learn how to take care of your surroundings! Fill your room with nice things according to your aesthetic! Put flowers in your room, have a candle to add a bit of character or a diffuser turn a plain old dorm room/apartment into your version of what luxury is! If you're looking for some dorm room/apartment ideas check out my Pinterest board for some ideas. 

𝟒. 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲!

Being in Uni/College can be stressful! Especially during midterm and exam season. I can remember myself pulling all-nighters, with a double espresso in my hand, reading old notes & memorizing the terms I needed for my exam. However, please don't overload yourself!

If you haven't already bought yourself a planner or use an Online one ASAP!

Planning your weekly, daily, monthly routines is essential for us college girlies! I'd recommend that you set out at least one day of the week, specifically for working out, self-care, hanging out with friends & Family, and doing extra-curricular. It is important to focus on your studies & pamper yourself. It is essential to reconnect yourself with your divine feminine energy. if you are more interested in "Ways to reconnect with your feminine energy check out my post by clicking here!

𝟓.  𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

Regardless, if you are working a part-time job, taking out a student loan, or getting an allowance from your parents. It is super important to be on top of your finances! Mastering this skill at your young age (18-23) is necessary! This will have an impact on your finances post-college. Like I mentioned above, a planner will become your best friend! Plan out how much you intend to spend on groceries, eating out, shopping, miscellaneous items, rent, etc. 

Take a financial literacy class, invest the money you have, and watch it grow over time, start a 41k account, retirement saving account, life insurance stocks, crypto, Begin building up your credit score, etc. You might be on a tight budget now that you're in school. But once you graduate, you'll be making way more money! With the financial skills you’ve learned, you’ll be able to manage your money 100% better than if you didn't.

Have any lovely tips you’d like to share? Are you currently in college right now? 

Start a discussion in the comments bellow!! Until next time my loves 💛

Chichi xo

Want to see more posts like these? Follow @miss-femme-fatale​ for more!

#femininity #biblical femininity #feminism #black femininity #femme #feminine #black women in femininity #level up #black women in leisure #hypergamy #hyperglam #hypergamous #jewerly #money #college #advertising #advice #ask blog #writer problems #black sugar dating #black girls #black women in luxury #black women #black girl luxury #beautiful black women #black and white #blogger #lifestyle #high maintenance #finance

[ashcrofnovels]

Built For Sin - Chapter 1

Chapter One: Unexpected

C. Ashcrof https://www.patreon.com/Ashcrofnovels

© 2021

 I started flying commercially 5 years ago at the age of 25 and I was lucky enough to land a job as a regional pilot for one of the low-cost European airlines almost immediately after graduating from flight school.

Before I go any further, let me introduce myself. My name is Alex Thomson, I’m 30 years of age and a bit of a gym bunny when I’m not in the skies, and it shows. I’m famed for my piercing blue eyes which match my blond hair very well and a very well-formed physique. I’ve never had any problems picking up little twinks from the nightclubs or from the app, so that has kept me quite busy during the years. 

To be honest, working for the regionals is a tedious job. You might fly 3 short legs a day with hardly any stopovers with an irritable cabin crew in the back as the passengers tend to treat them by how much they pay for the tickets. The pay as well is nothing to write home about, considering that you’ve spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on your flight training, it surely could be better.

On the upside, you weren’t short of young passengers on those cheap flights, so more often than not did I manage to spot a hot little young thing in the cabin, whenever I managed to pop my head out of the cockpit that is.

I lasted with the regionals for about three years before I decided to go for additional training to better my chances to get hired on one of the legacy airlines. You see, once you graduate flight school, you can’t just jump into any old aircraft and set off, you need to get trained on individual aircraft, and usually, the pilot must pay for that training. So as soon as I accrued the set flight hours, I was off to get myself more training.

I managed to get qualified for the main airliners of the day, including the Airbus 380, in two years making me highly employable with the legacy airlines, and managed to get myself a job with the long-haul fleet of the most iconic airlines in the world.

I won’t bore you with more trivia, so this is where our story begins, at Terminal 5 at London’s Heathrow airport.

“There she is,” I thought as I stared out the window at the Boeing 787 Dreamliner which would be my ride for the next 9 hours or so, on our flight for Orlando. My first long haul, overnight stay, in Florida where the sun is shining, surfer boys everywhere flaunting their stuff. It was a dream.

I had been working on bringing the plane to life for about 15 min when I was joined by my captain and relief pilot for the flight. Both were middle-aged men with grey hair and copious bellies. A disappointment in a way as I was hoping to have a bit of eye candy for the flight. “I’m Bill” the captain said and introduced the other as Paul. The two pilots were droning on as we completed our pre-start checks dampening my spirits even further. ‘those 9 hours will be excruciatingly long’ I thought to myself.

“Hi guys” A soft voice came from behind “I’m Liam and I’m the purser for the business class as well as the flight deck today. Can I get you anything before we start boarding?” I turned around and I swear my heart missed a couple of beats. I locked eyes with the gorgeous young flight attendant framed in the door. I couldn’t help but stare as my eyes gazed from his well-combed hair to his caramel eyes, not missing his glowing tanned skin and full-frame.

He had a baffled smile on his face as I realized that both the pilots had already given their orders and were all staring at me. “Uhm… yes. Sorry, I’ll have sparkling water please Liam, if you could”. ‘What has gotten into me’ I thought, ‘It’s just a fucking guy, get your shit together’. But at least this flight would be a bit more interesting than I first thought

“Alright gentlemen” Bill began his pre-flight briefing “Who will begin on their rest, How about you Alex? Take care of the Takeoff and head for the break so you’ll be fresh for landing?”

“Sounds good sir, I’ll take about two hours after take-off then and we’ll switch” which worked out perfectly for me as I could steal a glance at Liam again. I need to gauge his vibe, to see if he… complies with my tastes.

 *        *        *

 “Speedbird 1548, wind is at 020 at 5 knots, gust at 10, cleared for take-off runway 31 Right”

“Cleared for take-off Runway 31R, Speedbird 1548” I heard Bill echo air traffic control

“Alright guys take off checklist complete” I said as I grabbed the throttle and punched it.

I get tired of the feeling as we punched the throttle to max and the engines revved up, thrusting us forward to take off speed, that feeling when your stomach sinks when the aircraft lifts off from the ground and you’ve got nothing else but blue skies and clouds ahead. 

The view never ceased to amaze either. Being weather or city skylines, it always seemd different, you could always spot something new to admire. When it was just you and the aircraft, being in charge of a 245 ton machine, soaring through the air, bending it to your will climbing higher and higher, that’s when I found peace. 

 *        *        *

 “Alright Alex take your break” the captain said as we reached our cruising altitude. That’s the benefit of a long-haul flight. The crew has these quaint sleeping quarters above the passenger cabin, one for the flight crew and the other for the cabin crew, but that was not my destination today.

I noticed him immediately as I entered the cabin. There he was, leaning over to serve one of his business class passengers, an older woman, who looked at him longingly. I can’t blame her, his ass was looking amazing, filling out his uniform nicely and I couldn’t help imagining slipping them off and showing my cock into that hot bubble but.

I could feel my cock growing in my tight uniform which had trouble hiding my bulge even when I was soft, so being faced with a full business class cabin I quickly focused on the pouty older woman to try and tame the beast into submission.

“Oh hello again” I heard him say, startling me somewhat as I didn’t see him coming.

“You’re new in Long-haul aren’t you?” He said as he held out his hand, and I noticed his eyes darting down to my crotch where my bulge was still clearly visible, blushing a bit.

“Yes I am” I said as I took his hand and squeezed it firmly. I felt his heat radiating from him which made my cock twitch again. Oh, how I would love to pin him up against the door in the toilet and split him open with my cock.

‘shit’ I thought as I felt my cock harden again. ‘I need to tame this beast, it’s getting embarrassing’

I noticed that he was no longer glancing but right out staring at my growing bulge now.

“Uh, Listen” Liam started, blushing as he did “When we get to Florida, eh.. would you… maybeliketograbadrinkorsomething” He blurted out the rest of that sentence making it intangible.

“Sorry?” I said questioning

“Erhm, a drink, in Florida…”

“I could show you around, it’s like my second home, I’m always on the Florida route” He said again.

I could do with more than a drink I thought as the image of him spread out on my bed flashed through my mind.

“Yeah, sure… that would be great.” I answered back noting the relief in his caramel eyes.

“Cool, Ok listen, I need to get back to the cabin, and I’m sure you are supposed to be in crew rest, so how about we catch up at the hotel after landing”

“Sounds good” I said as I unlocked the door which lead me up to the crew rest area.

An hour and a half of rest in a comfortable bed is a lifesaver. I slipped my uniform off and slid into the bed.

I felt my cock stretch my Calvin’s as Liam was still on my mind. I could imagine his plump lips wrapped around my cock as he tried to take it all down his throat, his caramel eyes wet with tears as my cock hit the back of his throat. I imagined him gagging as I would push my cock further down, grabbing his well-groomed hair, pushing him further down on my cock, his eyes would now be streaming as he would be gasping for breath.

‘Oh, the benefits of a good imagination’ I thought as I grabbed a hold of my thick meat and started to jack it fast until I sprayed my body with 10 strong squirts of warm cum, wishing I was depositing it down Liam’s willing throat.

‘shit’ I thought as I noticed that there was nothing I could use to clean up the cum with. Another benefit of having a willing mouth to clean my cock. I hate cleaning up my spunk.

*DING* The intercom sounded with the flight deck light illuminated

“yeah” I answered as I picked up the handset

“You have twenty minutes left of your rest” the captain said “just making sure you’re awake”

“Thanks, Bill” I answered, panicking a little. ‘It’ll have to be the underwear then.’ I thought as I started covering my black Calvin’s in cum and sliding them on. It was usually the boys I fucked that I made wear cum soaked underwear, but never me. Come to think of it, it was a bit hot.

As I entered the flight deck, I received my briefing, and off Paul went for his rest.

Not five minutes later I heard the chime of the door attendant and with a hopeful smirk, I looked at the camera but to my disappointment, I was greeted by a busty blond crew member holding some drinks, which I reluctantly let in. A twang of disappointment swept over me as I was hoping to see Liam again.

She started chatting to Bill briefly as she handed us our drinks. It seemed like they had flown together on numerous occasions.

“Hey Alex, are you seeing those vibration numbers from engine one” Bill said as he glanced at the display, momentarily putting his conversation with the attendant on hold.

“That’s odd.” I said as I noticed the engine vibration numbers rising steadily.

“Well. You’re the PF, what do you think” Bill asked again.

“Let’s run an engine diagn…” I couldn’t finish my sentence as I heard a mighty thud and the plane started to shake violently, my breath caught as the flight attendant lost her balance and poured an icy drink over me which she had yet to hand over to Bill. 

“Shit… Ok seatbelt signs on” Bill said as he chimed into the cabin.

“Flight attendants, please be seated” I called on the intercom not wasting any time on further announcements.

“Engine one is rolling back” I said as I noticed the engine losing all thrust. Either sweat or sparkling water now dripping from my forehead “Let’s call Paul back here, I’m handing over the aircraft to you Bill” I said, following protocol.

“My aircraft” Bill called back as Paul came rushing into the flight deck

“Let’s see if we can relight the engine quickly” Bill said as we went through the motion of trying to start back the engine.

“It’s not lighting Sir” I said as it was evident that we weren’t getting any juice.

“Right make the mayday call and let’s try and get us down ASAP” Bill said “we have Bravo-India-Kilo-Foxtrot about 60 miles on our right”

Great, I thought. Iceland of all places. A rock in the Atlantic, a freezing tundra. I wasn’t going to be seeing any surfer boys there, let alone any boys, my shirt would probably freeze to my body being this soaking wet.

“Mayday-Mayday-Mayday, Speedbird 1548. We have lost thrust on one engine and are requesting to divert to Keflavik airport immediately”

“Speedbird 1548 We’ve checked your emergency and you are cleared visual approach, runway zero-five. Vectors to the final turn right heading 167, descend and maintain flight level one two zero”

“Speedbird 1548 copy, turn right heading 167, descend and maintain one two thousand, runway zero-five, please roll the equipment for us”

“Rolling the trucks”

We made a successful landing at the airport without further incidents, but I was now stuck in Iceland of all places.

 *        *        *

 “They are setting us up in the airport hotel for the night” Bill said as he got off the phone with the airline, “it’s going to be a tight squeeze as they don’t have separate rooms for us” he continued.

‘great, a night with an old fat pilot, a great end to my first long haul flight’ I thought getting irritated.

 “But let me say one thing, you guys did one hell of a job up there today…” Bill shot in again. “Great coordination, outstanding work by cabin crew, and very good handling in the cockpit, now Alex, you must be keen to get that soaked shirt off your back so let’s go over the room assignments” As Bill said that I could see Liam twitch slightly in his seat and I could’ve sworn I saw him blush slightly.

“Gentlemen…” Bill addressed the crew “these are the keys, at random, Ladies, here are your keys”

I grabbed a random key and stormed off to the lifts. ‘304 would be on the third floor if the Icelanders have some sense’ I thought as I entered the lift, pulling my shirt back from my pecks. It was starting to itch as it was partially drying now.

Most of the crew was down at the bar having a couple of drinks to calm the nerves, as we would be staying here at least 12 hours, it was acceptable, but I was dying for a shower and starting to feel the dried up cum in my underwear as well as the soaked shirt.

Entering the room did nothing to soothe my mood as I noticed that the room had a single king-sized bed as opposed to twins. ‘I am NOT cuddling up to some random pilot or something’ I thought furiously as I phoned reception which informed me that the hotel was fully booked and there were no other rooms available.

Seething I turned on the shower, peeled the soaking shirt off as well as the cum-stained underwear, and stepped under the hot spray of water. I lathered my body with soap, feeling the curves of my abs as I slid my hands up my body, stopping on my perked nipples, stroking them gently. My hand slid back down towards my cock which was now throbbing, more out of irritation than anything else.

“Fuck” I said to myself as I let go of my throbbing shaft “I’m even too irritated to jack off” I mumbled as I turned off the stream of water grabbing one of the fluffy towels and wrapping it around my waist, with the outline of my still throbbing cock showing.

Absentmindedly I walked back into the room and noticed someone sitting by the desk. I froze briefly as Liam looked at me blushing furiously, his eyes darting from my wet hair to my rigid abs and then the outline of my cock underneath the towel.

“oh sorry” he said “I should’ve knocked on the door to let you know you weren’t alone” he continued.

“It’s ok” I said, a bit more intrigued now that I knew I wouldn’t be bunking up with Bill or Paul.

“Ehm.. I’ll give you some privacy” he said blushing, heading for the door

“No stay, It’s fine. As long as you don’t mind me being here in just my towel for a bit” I said with a sly grin. “Can’t really throw on this soaking shirt or these rank boxers” I said nodding my head towards the stained underwear.

“I’d prefer it off” he blurted out and I saw him blush furiously again, and then notice the underwear. I wouldn’t have been surprised if his eyes popped out of his eye sockets as he noticed the white stains littered all over the black Calvin underwear, right there on the floor next to him.

I gave it a quick thought in my mind as I noticed him now staring at me, licking his lips.

“Listen Liam…” I started “You’re incredibly good looking, but I think you’re a bit too innocent for me” I said, forming a plan in my mind

“what do you mean by that!” he said with a bit of hurt in his eyes

“Well… You look like a gentle guy Liam..” I said pausing after saying his name “But I’m far from gentle when it comes to anything sexual. You see, I like my boys to do as I say, and to please me in any way I see fit, and I don’t think you’re quite up for that”

“Your boys huh” he said with a defiant tone, giving me the indication that he was playing right into my trap. “Well, I think I can handle whatever you throw at me” He said again with a defiant tone.

“Oh yeah?” I said as I dropped my towel to the ground giving him his first view of my 11-inch girthy cock.

His mouth dropped as he just sat there and stared at it.

“Well…” I said “are you just going to sit there or put your money where your mouth is”

He dropped to his knees in an instant and started to crawl towards me.

“STOP” I said firmly “Remove your clothes… anything but your underwear” I commanded

He obeyed immediately and started to peel off his uniform slowly. I watched mesmerized as he dropped his shirt to the floor. His body was perfect, although I didn’t like the dusting of hair on his well-formed chest nor his happy trail. I usually like my boys smooth with hardly any hair.

He was back on his knees now looking at me pleadingly with those caramel eyes.

“lean back on your heels” I said and without hesitation he obeyed my command, thrusting his hips forward allowing me a good view of his bulge which was tenting his white briefs by now. A wet spot formed just at the head of the bulge.

“It turns you on to be commanded I see” sounding it as a fact as opposed to a question, walking towards him holding my thick cock in my left hand, and grabbing his face firmly with the other.

“You’ll do as I say?” I whispered listening for his answer

“Yes.” He said without hesitation

He heard the slap before he felt it on his cheek.

“Yes, what?” I said in a smooth voice

“Yes… Sir?” he said in a bit of shock

“Good boy” - “Now open your mouth for me”

He did so without hesitation again. He seemed like a very good and obedient boy indeed. No wonder he was serving in business class.

I slapped my cock hard against his face letting him feel the weight of it. As I did so I saw the longing and lust in his eyes.

“beg for it” I said

He tried to reach my cock with his tongue not daring to move

“Please sir, let me taste your cock” he whimpered like a thirsty puppy.

I quickly reached down grabbing my underwear from the floor and without hesitation, I showed it in his waiting mouth. 

“Here, taste this…” I said as I listened to his moaning. “A couple of hours old load which I shot thinking about you and your hot little ass” 

He couldn’t hide his pleasure as a moan slipped through the fabric and his eyes closed briefly. I could hear him plead for my cock despite his voice being muffled by the underwear and I immediately gave him what he wanted as I presented my dick to him, pulling the underwear out of his mouth. He began to slurp on it vigorously, licking up and down my shaft getting it all wet and nice for him. It felt amazing having those lips on my meat.

I let him get acquainted with my cock for a few minutes, letting him go to town on his own for a while before taking over.

His eyes flashed with shock and I heard him whimper when I grabbed his hair and shoved his face down on my cock. He tried to pull off as I felt his throat muscles spasm around my shaft as I pushed deeper down his throat.

When I let go, he recoiled coughing, gagging, gasping for air as white strings of saliva ran down his chin.

“Did I tell you to fucking stop?” I said in a venomous whisper and quickly he was back on my cock, sucking a bit more gingerly now. I grabbed his hair again and proceeded to scull fuck him, feeling my cock hit the back of his throat and eventually breaking through the resistance and sliding down as far as it could go, nestling my balls on his chin.

His caramel eyes were now full of tears as he tried to control his gag reflex but his eye contact never broke from mine, our eyes were locked as I rocked my cock in and out of his throat.

For about twenty minutes I pounded that boy’s face whilst holding his head in place firmly. He took it like a pro, I must say, not daring to stop.

“I’m about to cum kid” I said as I picked up the pace of the brutal face fucking Liam was receiving. With a final thrust I slid down his throat and started pumping my seed down his throat.

Liam struggled, getting red in the face as he was desperate for a breath, but I held him still as I pumped the last bit of cum down his throat eventually letting him up for air.

“Fuck” He said gasping and coughing. “That was so fucking hot, I thought you were going to drown me” he said.

“Grab a shower” I said smiling “I’m not quite done with you yet”.

#gay #lgbt #fiction #writers on tumblr #gay novel #gay writing #gay story #gay stories

[strangebiology]

How DID you get into the BU program?

Two weird things I’ve learned in journalism and in life are:

If you want to see more, you have to open your eyes wider.

If you want to learn more, you have to ask the same question several times.

Well, this question has been asked several times now, so I guess you deserve an answer.

The story starts during the Persied meteor shower of 2015.

Our pupils were dilated like a camera on a wide aperture setting, the soft depths of the Milky Way so clear and shimmering it looked as though the sky was one giant long-exposure photo. Even through the light pollution of San Francisco, we could see the stars while standing on the beach during my going-away party. A few weeks after that night, I left for the East Coast. I would be gone for 5 years.

I had been accepted to a science writing grad program on the other side of the country, and was planning to ship out at the end of the month, so I invited some friends to say goodbye. Ideally, the grad program would kick-start my writing career and launch me into a financially and spiritually fulfilling employment.

While I received many congratulations under the clear night sky, I wasn’t sure if getting into grad school was something worth congratulating. I mean, higher education is an experience and it can launch you into wonderful opportunities. But it’s also ruining some people’s entire financial lives. Haven’t you read the news?

The question wasn’t whether I could go through the program; that much I was sure of. The question was, would I be a good, gainfully employed science writer at the end of it? I only knew that I had been accepted for some reason and that, and of course I could pay for it: literally anyone with a social security number has the choice to take out loans for tuition and living expenses. My family insisted BU only saw me as a cash cow; why else would this sort of higher-end school accept someone from such a low-prestige undergrad as mine, with no formal training or work in science at all? And not much special about me except an obsession with animals and the fact that I have a science Tumblr?

I wondered this until I was wondered-out. On the beach, my friend “Buck” and I ran into the ocean and held hands. We couldn’t even feel whether the water was cold. “I know you’re worried about the finances,” he told me. “But you’re really gonna do great at this program.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” I replied as stars shot overhead. “But I wonder if that’s the [joy and friendship] talking.”

“No no no,” he insisted. “Look, you do this blog, you’ve done this book, this program is at a prestigious university, and they picked you to be in it. You will definitely kill it and you’re gonna be a science journalist afterwards.”

“Yeah,” I conceded. “I guess my acceptance into the program proves that I can do well afterwards. It’s a small program. They wouldn’t accept just anyone.”

____________________________________________________

The program turns out surprisingly easy for me to hack. My lack of formal science experience puts me at no disadvantage, and I’m getting straight A’s.

For various reasons, I was increasingly curious as to how I had been accepted. Someone had asked me on my blog how they could get accepted too, and of course I had no idea. I had written that blogs are great because I thought that mine helped me get into the program, but again, that was just a guess.

But why guess when you can ask?

I had found that the program directors were somewhat wary of answering questions about the program, but I’m sort of an addict for information, so I’d rather annoy them than be curious for the rest of my life.

So I asked one director. He described me as “nosy” for wanting to know about the program that I had paid fifty thousand dollars to attend.

So I asked another. Because if you want to know something, you have to ask the same question several times.

“How do you pick who gets into the program?” I asked one day before class. I had hardly used any segue. “How does anyone get in? How did I get in?”

The director looked at me with wide eyes, and was speechless for a moment. “You want me to answer that here, in front of everyone?”

I looked around. The only other people in the room were other people in the program. We were at the far end of the table, and no one else was listening. But I was willing to go about this however she wanted, and if she wanted to answer the question privately, we would do so at her office hours. So we scheduled to meet in her office at 2 P.M. Besides, by setting up a time specifically for this discussion, I figured she’d have to give me a solid answer.

When I got to her office I sat on the couch and made a bit of small talk.

And then I asked again: How did I get into this program?

“You’re obviously feeling a bit insecure,” she said. That was incorrect. I was just curious. (Fast forward 5 years, and I’m not as successful as I had hoped, but I am in fact an employed science journalist.) Plus, I assume she’s just gonna give me compliments, and I love compliments! And I don’t want to speculate on these things, I want to know.

She knew.

“Are you sure you want to know?” She asked.

I didn’t walk up two flights of stairs just to decide I wasn’t curious anymore. I put my chin on my palms, and my elbows on the table and stared at her intensely.

Wide-eyed.

 “YES.”

She stood up and slowly closed the office door. “You can never tell anyone.”

“Okay.” (Sorry Prof!)

She talked around the subject for a bit. Said that it was very rare for this to happen.

But you see, once it did happen, it’s rude to take it back.

What was on my application that they liked so much, then? The application that I spent so much time on and was meant to bear my soul, to set me on a lifelong path of science journalism? What’s the secret of the oh-so-mysterious admissions office?

Nothing.

They hadn’t even seen my application.

I might as well have sent a box of worms.

But, fatefully, someone down in some other department, the advisor explained, pressed some wrong button…

…and sent me my acceptance letter by accident.

I decided never to tell anyone.

#How I got into BU #Answer #Ask #Anyone who wants to say she shouldn't have told me #thank you but that's wrong #I literally asked her 3 times