Before I do anything else, let me say this: I defy you to find anyone else on LJ who actually has and uses a "fractured penis (not mine)" post tag.

I am the worst teacher ever, but that story will never not be funny.

ANYWAY. Onwards. FANFIC.

I wrote this in about an hour last night and polished it up in my few spare minutes this afternoon. I think it will be pretty obvious why the topic of solace was on my mind. Credit for the original idea goes to exuberantself and you may find more information about that in the header notes on the fic.

Title: The Quiet Room
Rating: R
Couplings: (please to note that not all of these are ships) Gwen/Owen, Ianto/Tosh, Ianto/Jack, Ianto/Gwen/Jack
Summary: "Inside this room, no one talks," Ianto said, his voice carefully neutral. "It isn't allowed. What goes on here stays here and, outside of it, never happened. Other than that there are no other rules, in a manner of speaking."

Gather round, my children. This is the story of the Broken Penis. I swear this is not an April Fool's joke; it is entirely true, and it happened to me on April Fool's Day, 2004. (The story, not the broken penis.)

You will have questions. I promise most of them will be answered if you read to the end, including the all important "How do you fracture an appendage which has no bone?" Just...keep reading.

( Let me take you back... )

And if you need another laugh for today, have a blast over at my Omnibus Edition of Student Gems, a compilation of stupid, bizarre, and hilarious things my students said during my two-year tenure as a graduate student and my two-month tenure as a standardised test essay-scorer.

Cast:
L, the Concessions Manager
Nice Boss, the gay Box Office Manager
Yours Truly

Setting:
The Box Office, around 8pm

L: Man. This day is killing me.
Sam: It could be worse.
L: How?
Sam: I just sold tickets to a man with the last name Glasscock.
L: Oh jesus. Can you imagine the family reunion?
Sam: All the little Glasscocks running around...
L: They get bigger all the time!
Sam: "Grandad Glasscock, why are you in a cast?" "Oh, I had a fracture..."
Nice Boss: I officially declare this the gayest conversation I've ever heard.

THANK YOU! GOODNIGHT!

Ten things I've done that you probably haven't:

1. Welded the frame for a door and the housing around it. Backwards.

2. Attended a play from underneath the stage. Not downstairs or in the pit -- underneath the stage.

3. Burned myself on a fog machine.

4. Been in a car accident which involved my body contacting the hood and windshield of a car.

5. Held in my hands a letter from someone giving their eyewitness account of Pearl Harbor.

6. Spent an entire summer, four hours a day, drawing at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.

7. Walked in on two people having sex in a library study room. (Unrelated to #10)

8. Had someone say, to my face, "See, I fractured my penis."

9. Been offered the opportunity to have sex with a dog. (I declined.)

10. Screamed "fuck" in a library. (There were extenuating circumstances, dammit.)

( Comment conservation )

Grades are in. That's one more thing to check off the list...now it's all newspaper and packing tape (kinky!)

Having spent most of my free time lately packing and organising, I've taken a moment to clean out my flist a little; please don't be offended if I've removed you, it's not personal -- I find myself skimming and feeling guilty. My apologies.

I think I'll go home and sleep through Saturday. Sunday I start moving stuff into storage. (Seventy-five dollars a month, holy crap.)

An update on everyone's favourite students:
Liam got an A by two points.
Fractured Boy finally brought in his assignments and a doctor's note. He's getting a B in the course and there's nothing I can do. Grr.
As for the rest, the breakdown went pretty much as stated earlier: 37 As, 20 Bs, 4 Cs. No Ds or failures.

( Comment Conservation )

My portfolio is beautiful, my life plans are acceptable, my thesis is intriguing, my papers are graded.

My exam notes are next to me, my stash of baby carrots is gone, my eye is swelling shut.

*collapses*

Hey you know what? Tomorrow? The full moon. I am going to pull a Lupin and disappear mysteriously.

Won't my students be surprised when Severus Snape shows up to hand back their papers.

"Liam! Your essay was...adequate. Ms. Guiterman, are you aware the protagonist dies at the end? Leaving at intermission again, I see. Mr. Hendrickson, a fractured penis* is no excuse for your blatant misuse of apostrophes..."

One of these days I'm really going to sit down and write that How Hogwarts Professors Mark Student Papers fic. (Not to mention finish the fic based on Remus J. Lupin's Seventh Year Essay on Quidditch and Human Sexuality.)

* Yes, he really exists. Yes, it really happens. Yes, he really told me about it. No, I really don't know how I kept a straight face either. Yes, I really am a bad person.

Commentary post-hack: I have not written either of those fics to date.

I have a student, I believe I've mentioned him, who at this point has not turned in a single assignment save the midterm. To be fair, he did extremely well on said midterm. I've been trying to get ahold of him for ages, and finally he came to see me during office hours today.

I informed him that at this point there was no way he could get higher than a D in the course, which is true, and asked him what was going on, and if I could help. He said he'd suffered a serious injury at the beginning of the school year which was impacting him physically -- lack of mobility plus painkillers -- and emotionally.

"Emotionally?" I asked, thinking perhaps he'd been in a car wreck, and knowing what that's like.

"Yeah," he replied. "See, I fractured my penis."

What's the polite thing to say in that situation? Wow doesn't really seem to cover it...

Commentary post-hack: This story is NOT an april fool's joke, and has since become something of a legend. It is my favourite story to tell at dinner with friends. :D