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Miami Hurricanes 2023 Ncaa Men’S Basketball March Madness Final Four shirt I remember a Miami Hurricanes 2023 Ncaa Men’S Basketball March Madness Final Four shirt memoir — Beasts, Men, and Gods — by Ferdinand Ossendowski, a White Pole who fled the Bolshevik revolution through Siberia. He served in General Kolchak’s All-Russian Government before escaping through the Steppes north of Mongolia, and then participated in the government of that most notorious adventurer, the “Mad Baron” Ungern-Sternberg, who attempted to take over Mongolia to restore an imperial Khaganate as part of an imagined reactionary restoration of the Great Mongol, Chinese, and Russian monarchies in the interests of the “warrior races” of Germans and Mongols (a Baltic German, he considered the old Russian ruling class to represent Germandom over and against Jews and Slavs). Some of the things – the acts of desperation and madness, in which he himself was no disinterested observer – Ossendowski relates are harrowing. But this part struck me as very much making a point about what people think of the Steppe peoples, and of what (German-trained) nationalists like Ungern-Sternberg did (and would do again) to the Mongols. And, other things:
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A fundamental premise of physics is that the 2023 Ncaa Blue 84 Red Fau Owls Men’s Basketball Tournament March Madness Final Four T Shirt are the same everywhere. That implies whatever initial conditions led to life as we know it will almost certainly occur elsewhere. Only a few years ago, we had no evidence there were even extrasolar planets. Now we know there are thousands relatively nearby, so it looks like our solar system is somewhat typical for stars like ours and that our star is for better or worse, utterly typical. Ergo there are billions of planets out there in our galaxy alone. The argument that we are the only sentient beings because we haven’t heard from any others is (of course) theoretically possible, but highly unlikely. Given the argument above, it’s far more likely the universe is literally teeming with life at various stages of evolution. But even in our little corner of the Milky Way, we don’t hear from them because they are just too damn far away. One light year is 9.46×10^15 meters. None of our own random EM radiation so far would be more than (say) a thousand watts/m^2 at its origin and most of it far less than that. A fraction of that would actually make it out into space where it would just spread out in a spherical wave front. Let’s assume for giggles that it all does and that our alien buddies are also shouting randomly at the cosmos at roughly the same volume (power output).
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#adidas#russia#rusija#slav#squatting#squat#tracksuit#slav squat#slav stuff#three stripes#hair#haircut#amazing#fashion#sweatshirt#gosha#rubchinskiy#gosha rubchinskiy
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I have no self control so here are some underrated matteo outfits
i’m so sad that he only wore this sweater once, i love it.... peak lesbian grandpa fashion. also you can see the BELT (for all you non-believers out there who were surprised on saturday).
i’m not gonna diss his baggy pants but i have to admit that these pants look better on him (and he wore them again today! rights) plus the gray shirt and his slav sweatshirt? this is A Look!
again, why did he only wear this shirt once?? it’s so iconic and the palms are a clear reference to the song “palm dreams” by hayley kiyoko aka lesbian jesus so again matteo said lesbian rights
+ my least favorite matteo outfit
I’m sorry but matteo... it’s absolutely quiet it’s crickets....
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hear me out.. david in matteo's slav sweatshirt
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Сука Блять Suka Blyat
Slav Meme Design by mareescatharsis @teepublic
For funs and giggles. Cursing can be fun and relieving.
T-Shirt
Crewneck Sweatshirt
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"Final count...
... 42." 🧝💖
Okay, 35, I had to eat one, 'cause I won't give Sis anything that is yucky. But I couldn't help but legolas the f out of this. So, 36.
For this amount of Sequilhos I used (now brace yourselves Americans and your CuPs, this is how Slavs cook 🤗🔥):
3/4 of a 394g tin of condensed milk (I used Salko),
3/4 of a 125g stalk of unsalted butter,
enough of c*rnstarch to make the mix of condensed milk and butter into a non-sticky dough (Dr. Oetker's Gustin had my back)
+ a baking paper sheet (there're non-stick ones out there, good stuff).
🔥Expendable🔥 ingredients were:
a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, a winter parka, floor, a table and a chair to unintentionally dust c*rnstarch on,
Slavic patience (non-existent),
a pair of quick legs and keen eyes (for foraging for c*rnstarch),
Spotify 🎧🎵,
prayers from mutuals (I hope 👀)
and a younger sibling with an upcoming birthday.
I baked all Sequilhos batches for 14 minutes (42 mins 👀👀👀🧝 total), the oven was set on 160 °C (I'll be nice now, it's around 320-5 °F 😘).
Here are the links of websites/vids I used for insp and info 🍪 🏳️🌈 🔥, obrigado to all Brazilians for the Sequilhos themselves and all mutuals who followed me on this baking journey!!!
THOUGH!!! 👀
I'll let you all know whether I succeeded or naught TOMORROW... wish me luck!!! 😘🍪
Guys, pray for me...
... 'cause I'm making 🇧🇷✨Sequilhos✨🇧🇷 for Sis' birthday tomorrow in our dorm kitchen; disclaimer: I'm not a baker at all. And I'm scared.
Will keep you updated. 😁
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Talks and Changes
Ch. 7 of Altea High
”Ji-ji! Stop!”
“Payton get out of here!”
Keith wakes up, startled. He can still hear the roar of the fire and the sharp shnick shnick of blades in his ears. He wasn’t there when it happened but his mind can fill in the blanks. As good of a video as it can be some details are better left unacknowledged, too bad his brain didn’t get that memo. Groaning, he buried his face further into his flattened pillow, ignoring the sun peeking out from under the blinds.
Before he fell back to sleep he flipped his pillow over, something he read on the Internet, to change dreams or something. He wished he didn’t dream at all but he needs more sleep. Mr. Kelly or Coran, his Civilian Life teacher, warned them of a big project starting the beginning of the week. In the class so far he has made a birdhouse, came up with three ways to make mac n’ cheese with only three ingredients, and learned how to indicate North. Who knows what the man has come up with.
He breathed in the scent of the detergent that Scarlet used on his bed sheets. He pushed back the past and thought of something that was so far different and off topic and had absolutely no connection to his parents or childhood. He thought of… flowers. Yes, flowers, pretty colorful flowers that his mom used to carefully press between book pages.
Nope. Okay, change of subject.
He thought of… TV, no, no, no, no screens. Okay, cake? Hunk said he would bring fresh baked cupcakes next week. He still hasn’t answered the other boy’s question on what flavor he’d prefer. He replied he’d be fine with anything but he secretly hoped for chocolate. His mom used to make him this chocolate cake for his birthday that was somehow crunchy but still good.
“Gaaaahhhhh,” he groaned into the pillow. He scrunched his legs under him and stretched his arms out in a cat-like stretch. He pulled down his hoodie from when it slid up his torso. He doesn’t have to worry so much about catching on fire when he’s sleeping, thankfully, but now he’s awake and has to be more cautious.
He sat up on his knees, the sleeves long and in his lap, fingers barely poking out of the fabric. He looked to his alarm clock on his nightstand, 7:47 blinked at him in neon green. He reached over and gingerly swept up the nonchalant envelope where he left it. He swallowed and smoothed his fingers over the crumpled paper. It didn’t become wrinkled because of him or Scarlet; he knew that if it was anything of his she treated it with care. It wasn’t well taken care of when it was delivered to the house. Who knows how the letter inside looked.
He moved his legs to sit crisscross, the cotton of his baggy sweatpants catching under him. He felt strangely cool at the moment. Very calm. Years since he had heard from her and suddenly he gets a letter out of the blue. The flap was securely fastened to the pocket, only the barest corner of the envelope wasn’t glued down. Carefully, Keith picked at the corner. It tore, just a little bit but instead of following the crisp line it was predestined to, the tear arced so only a tiny little flap was loose.
He slipped his thumb in the bigger opening, prepared for the odd tearing and uneven scalloping, when there was a knock on the door. His head flew up, bangs in his eyes, as he covered the envelope with his pillow like it was a bad secret.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes?”
Scarlet opened the door just enough to poke her head through. “Keith, you have that meeting with Shiro today remember? Did you forget?”
Eyes widening, Keith ditched the pillow and the letter underneath it and flew to the mound of clothes on his desk chair. “Shit! I forgot!”
“Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought. You’re meeting him at that café in town, call me when you get there and when you’re done!” With that statement she closed the door.
He starts to put on layers of clothes from the pile and saw the letter peeking out from under the pillow. He paused his harried dressing. After a minute or two he slipped it into his new hoodie.
Minutes later he’s down in his extra layers and a non-sleep sweatshirt. He adjusted his undershirts to line up as he shoved his feet into his shoes. He was adjusting the heel when a firm hand grabbed onto his sweatshirt. He looked up to see Scarlet with her brow furrowed and downturned mouth. “Keith, I know you haven’t opened the note from your mother yet but I just wanted to say that no matter what’s inside you don’t have to do anything it says. It doesn’t have to change you, okay?”
Change me? What—what does that mean? He looked at her, puzzled, a little pebble dropped in his stomach. “S-sure, Scar. Whatever you say.”
She smiled at him but the little creases around her eyes were still there. She nodded. “Okay, I just wanted to let you know. You’re your own person, and I think you’re a very brave young man.” She let go of his sleeve.
Kind words but each dropped little pebbles into his stomach, plopping in and churning the stomach acid and making him vaguely sick.
He left and caught the bus that would leave him kitty-corner to the Just Beans Here.
A short ride later he spotted Shiro with his conspicuous white tuft of hair at one of the outside tables, a cup of coffee still steaming.
The older man looked up from his menu as the metal chair scrapped against the concrete. “Hi, Keith. Get here alright?”
Stomach still unsettled but calm despite the rocky bus ride he nodded. “It was fine. Yours?”
“Well enough, not a lot of traffic at this time.”
The waitress came up then. After getting his order of iced tea she let them have a moment or two to decide on what they’d like. As she weaved between the tables Shiro put on his “working smile” as Keith called it. Polite and friendly but slightly distant. In this moment he was not his cousin but a professional liaison for the small part of the government that dealt with kids who had the unfortunate side effect of having a villainous parent or parents.
“Keith, how have things been so far?”
Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. The pretending always annoyed him. That smile annoyed him. The “I’m you’re friend” annoyed him. Because they didn’t. They didn’t care, he was just either another case or something to be monitored. But this caseworker isn’t like the others; this is Shiro. And he knew Shiro cared about him. It took him a while to realize that but that knowledge was cemented in him.
He hated this part of the routine but knew it was necessary. “Everything is fine with Scarlet. I’ve only melted a few things since last month.” He rubbed the envelope in his pocket between his fingers, debating. “Pretty much it.”
The waitress came back with their drinks. Shiro asked for a Cobb salad because he was prepared that way and Keith panicked and asked for a BLT. Conveniently forgetting he didn’t like tomatoes.
Shiro’s brows furrowed. “I thought you didn’t like tomatoes.”
Keith crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t, I—I just felt like bacon today.”
The guidance counselor didn’t comment, merely nodded his head. “Okay. So,” He folded his hands on the table. “How’s school?”
Keith’s eyes drifted, taking in small details before answering. The couple eating brunch together, giggling and cooing. Someone typing furiously on their laptop with papers strewn about, taking over the table next to them. A girl with a magazine with a blond man on the cover leaning against nothing, the new CEO of some company or a celebrity he doesn’t know. A woman with a darker skin tone than the young woman behind the magazine bustled around the metal fence, waving.
“Keith.”
Said young man snapped his attention back to the person he was meeting. “Sorry,” His eyes darted back to the young woman who was waving back at the older woman. The girl from the elevator? “School’s fine. As you know.”
Shiro broke character for a minute by rolling his eyes. “I do, but I want to know how you feel. Is it working? How’re classes? Do you have friends?”
Keith leaned his arms on the table. “It’s fine. Classes are fine; the teacher’s are weird. Coran is the weirdest, he keeps giving us random assignments for what’s supposedly a Life Skills class. I don’t know how many birdhouses he expects us to make. My bio teacher is going on maternity leave, I think she would still try to work if it wasn’t for her wife; she called during class to make sure she wasn’t working too hard. It was cute. Slav is…interesting. He spends most of the class going through other world scenarios probabilities. Lance doesn’t help because he keeps asking stupid questions during class.”
“What kind of stupid questions?” Shiro asked.
“Stuff like what are the chances of a building falling because of a kid throwing a baseball through the window, or the probability of someone tossing a water bottle a hundred times and having it land perfectly every time.” Keith chuckled. “One time he asked what was the probability of this guy Sean in out class of getting laid and Slav actually answered him.” He covered his mouth with his wrist as he laughed. “Pfft, he said it was less than twenty percent. Maybe thirty in another dimension.”
Shiro chuckled at his story. It was really funny; he didn’t expect the teacher to actually answer! God, best Tuesday ever. Sean Dick didn’t even try to get back at Lance after that, which Keith thought was nothing short of a miracle.
“It sounds like you and Lance are getting along well.”
Keith didn’t answer for a minute or two. “I guess…Sometimes it’s like he barely stands me. But we can handle it for the rest of the year.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t ‘barely stand you’. He’s a nice kid.”
“He’s fine, but I don’t think we could be classified as ‘friends.’” For emphasis he brought his fingers up for the air quotes. He dropped his hands. “Shiro, why can’t I just get a nullifier? Wouldn’t that just be easier?”
Shiro sighed like the world was on his shoulders. “Keith, we’ve discussed this. You won’t learn how to control your powers yourself. What if you lose it? Or what if it breaks? Then where would you be?”
Keith didn’t have an answer for that.
Satisfied his cousin nodded then he smiled as the waitress deposited their food in front of them. Keith merely nodded with what he hoped looked like a smile, when she left he started to pick off his tomatoes and throwing them on top of Shiro’s salad.
Shiro stabbed through the extra tomatoes and greens. “We might be able to get you a nullifier for special occasions, like games or dances. Hopefully you won’t get detention, but everyone’s required for that one, but you have to learn how to do it yourself if you’re still planning to be a civilian.”
Keith flaked off crumbs of crust from his sandwich and bit into his spear pickle. “I highly doubt I’m going to dances,” he mumbled around the bite of food. “And I am still planning to be a civilian. It’s not like I’m planning to turn evil or anything. Why would I change anything in my plan now? Why would I just suddenly turn evil? It’s not like anyone just turns evil over night and I’m not planning to.” He glared at his sandwich; he flicked off a small tomato seed. God, he hated tomatoes.
“Hey, buddy, no one is saying that you’re going to turn evil alright? Is it someone from school? We can talk to them okay?” Shiro set down his fork, looking at him with concern. His non-metal hand was lying on the table, an offer but not an obligation.
“No it’s just…” he looked away. The girl from the elevator was talking excitedly to the woman sitting across from her. The woman was smiling warmly and nodding every so often. “Just because my dad burned down buildings for money people expect me to. Just, the reputation that my parents turned evil makes it really hard to just…blend in. And this,” he took off his glove and held up his hand and allowed a small orange flame flicker to life. “Doesn’t help.” He closed his hand around the small flame, smothering it.
He slipped his other glove off and picked up his food, tomato free. “I’m just having an off day. People are irritating. Let’s just leave it at that.” He took a big bite out of his sandwich and chewed furiously.
“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine.” He resumed eating. Before he took a new bite he asked, “But other than that everything’s fine? You have friends? It seems like you’ve been hanging out with Pidge and Hunk a lot. And of course Lance.”
“Why ask if you already know the question?” Keith quirked an eyebrow at him.
Shiro looked at him, fork paused in midair. Another crack in the professional mask. Keith knew if they weren’t on a ‘business’ lunch he would probably be giving as good as he got. They stared at each other, neither one wanting to give in; Shiro didn’t even blink.
Finally the older man gave in; Keith relished his victory silently. “Just tell me if you’re making friends or not. How about Shay? Are you two getting along?”
“I would say I’m friends with Hunk and Pidge, like school friends, we’re not braiding anyone’s hair or having sleepovers anytime soon. Shay is cool. She’s really cool, like she’s really determined to do her best and improve. I can appreciate that.”
They continue talking about his classes and friends, see how well he’s adjusting in school. All the regular rounds to see if his basic needs are taken care of at Scarlet’s. He doesn’t mention that Scarlet thinks he’s all of a sudden going to turn evil because of getting contact with his mother. Then he would have to discuss his mother and how he felt and why he hadn’t opened the letter yet and he wanted to avoid that inquisition. He’s just out here for his required monthly talk with his cousin.
“Just wait here, you’re going to have to meet someone.” Shiro says as the waitress takes away their dishes. He leaves a few bills on the table for the check and walks over to the table with the girl and woman. The woman smiles warmly as she stood up to hug him. They chat for a bit and Shiro was talking to the girl, then he tilted his head in his direction. The girl nodded and walked over to him. He met Shiro’s gaze and glared at him, who smirked and shrugged in response.
The girl with teal hair pulled into a high ponytail waved as she sat down in front of him, slinging her purse over the back of her chair. “Hi, Keith!”
He gave her a half-smile. “Hi…”
She stuck her hand out. “Plaxum, from the elevator, but you can call me Plax.”
He almost took her hand but remembered why that would be a very bad idea. He quickly put his gloves back on. “Sorry, no handshakes, but, um, that’s an interesting name.”
“Hey, no worries, I forgot.” She picked up the dessert menu. “Yeah, my mom was, and still is, a bit of a hippy.”
“Does it mean anything?”
She set aside the trifold and shook her head. “Nah, not really.”
He nodded.
They sat in silence. It was awkward silence, at least to him. She didn’t seem to mind that much, playing with the menu. They waved the waitress away when she asked if they wanted anything else. He looked over to the other table where Shiro abandoned him. They were talking amicably but it seemed like a serious conversation.
“I’m meeting with Shiro after he’s done. I think they want to introduce you to Mamá Martinez.”
He looked back over, the appearances clicking into place. The same clear bronzed skin, thick chestnut hair, and sharp facial features that are actually quite soft when smiling. Except for the eyes and height they looked remarkably alike, especially if placed side to side.
He turned back to Plax, who was fiddling with the small braids she put into her ponytail; she smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s a reason she’s called Mamá Martinez, she’s really nice.”
“Thanks but why would I meet her? I mean, why is it so important?”
She tilted her head in confusion. “Well, she’s the one that looks after us, checks in, that stuff. She normally does things in person but Shiro’s her intern or something. They might just want you to finally meet her.”
Why would Shiro be her intern? Looks after them? He knew Shiro checked in on him, he thought it was as a representative for children’s services or something. He didn’t think that there was someone else that was supposed to be doing that job. Looking back though things made a lot more sense, still confusing but maybe more sense. But she said us…”What do you mean by ‘us?’”
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Her left arm wrapped around herself as her other came up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, you don’t know.” Her hand at her mouth dropped to rest on top of the left. Her smile was more subdued. “I forgot that not everyone knows anymore and I kinda thought you already knew.” She met his eyes, brave and a little defiant. “You don’t have her as a teacher but my mother is Luxia. She works at the school and she’s a reformed supervillain.”
He jerked. The table rattled and a glass fell over. He grabbed it right before it fell off the table. “She’s a reformed supervillain?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re her kid?”
“Also, yes.”
“And she’s working at the school?”
“Yes.”
She stared at him, cerulean eyes daring him to say anything bad about her or her mother. When he didn’t follow up with another question she asked, “Isn’t that why you’re here? You’re parents are supervillains like my mom and…” Her head gestured to the adults behind them. “They’re here to help.”
“I—I mean I guess. I’ve never thought about…It’s just…you’re mom works at the school?”
Her brow furrowed and her lips tensed just a little bit more, yet her voice remained level. “Yes. At the school. That can happen, y’know.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just never thought of it before. I never imagined my mom doing… anything outside of prison. I’ve never imagined my mom outside of prison. It just came a shock that that can happen.” He paused and put as much sincerity as he could into what he said. “I’m…really happy that you have this with your mother.” It just occurs to him that the glass was still in his hand. He set it in the middle of the table.
She smiled at him, defenses gone. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She relaxed her posture, arm and elbow resting on the table, fiddling with a braid. “Mamá Martinez could find a job for your mom or dad when or if they get out. She helped with my mom.”
He stared hard at his unused napkin. He took it and folded one corner of the square to the opposite corner. Keeping his hands and eyes busy. “My dad’s dead, it wasn’t released to the public, but he is. And I have no idea when or if my mom is ever getting out.” He thinks about the slight crinkling that’s in his hoodie pocket.
“They didn’t tell you the sentencing?”
He shrugged, folding the edges to meet in the middle. “I didn’t want to know at the time, still kinda don’t.” He finished folding and pulled on the wings to pop up the crane.
Plaxum nodded and thankfully didn’t say anything else. She took the paper-napkin-turned-crane. “That’s cool.” He didn’t know if she was talking about the bird or what he said. She tried to flap the wings but they barely moved. “Isn’t this supposed to flap?”
One side of his lips hitched up. “It’s a traditional crane. They’re not supposed to flap.”
“Hmm, still cool. Can I keep this?”
“Be my guest.”
She carefully folded the crane flat and slid it into her tiny purse. “If you want you can come talk to my mom. She’s typically free after school. And if you need a friend who gets the super villain kid thing you can always come talk to me.”
Keith hopes he kept the wince off his face. “Thanks for the offer but I’m not sure…”
She held up her hands, stopping whatever his excuse would be. “It’s just an offer, but we can still hang if you want.” She twisted her torso until he could hear a series of cracks from the other side of the table. “I think they’re ready to switch off anyway. I’m going to make Shiro get me ice cream for making my partner Flora.” Her face scrunched up in a glare. “Not funny, Shiro, not funny.” He has no idea who Flora is or why it’s bad that Shiro made them her partner and he won’t ask. He looked over her shoulder to see his cousin giving the woman a smile and a hug. Plaxum turned back around. “It was nice to see you Keith, you should seriously think about what I said.” She got up, slung the chain of her purse over her shoulder and looked over said shoulder, teeth gleaming. “See you in school Keith!”
He waves goodbye as she hugs Mrs. Martinez and makes a little hop over to Shiro. After a lot of gesturing and looks of disapproval from Plaxum Keith can see the exact time Shiro gave in. The man looked back at Keith and called out, “See you Monday, Keith! Behave yourself for Mrs. Martinez all right?”
If he could physically roll his eyes out of his head he would. “Goodbye, Shiro.”
Mrs. Martinez chuckled as she sat down where Plaxum left the chair out. “He’s a character that one. Hello, Keith,” She smiled at him, kind brown eyes that seemed very warm. She either did a great job at balancing the caring and professional relationship to the point one couldn’t tell or she just did a shit job of it. The aura she gave off was very…maternal. “I’m Isabella Martinez, you can call me Isabella, Bella, Mrs. Martinez, and some call me Mamá Martinez. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”
He nodded. “Thank you, I think I’ll stick with Mrs. Martinez.”
She smiled at him, her phone buzzed and she shot off a quick text before focusing her attention on him again. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions but long story short: I’m a senior caseworker for the Administration for Children and Families that specializes with supervillains and their children. I’m technically your case manager until you turn eighteen. To make sure you’re getting proper education and that where you live is safe, etcetera etcetera. So far you’ve been dealing with Shiro, your cousin correct?” He nodded. “Now, I normally would be doing it and we’re bending the rules of ethics here by allowing Shiro to be working with you on your case but it’s an exception due to past performance with previous social workers.”
His memories bring up fake friendly adults with too big smiles and too bright voices that wouldn’t even meet his eye. He was so angry and frustrated back then he refused to even try to work with them. For a while he didn’t even speak, which certainly didn’t help when he kept getting kicked out of foster homes for setting shit on fire. He’s not gonna lie and say he didn’t get some satisfaction of being a little shit to them, but he hoped he matured a little since then.
She gave him a look that tells him that she knows exactly what he’s thinking, but the little smile showed that she wasn’t particularly angry. “Do you have any questions, Keith?”
“Why is Shiro on my case? He’s not even a social worker.”
“Well, it’s complicated. About a little over a year ago I contacted him when he was working as Altea’s guidance counselor for a couple of months asking if there was any information about you that could help. He offered to house you and while that would’ve been ideal he was fresh out of graduate school, it was years since you’ve last seen him, and his housing wasn’t exactly fireproof. It didn’t seem like the best situation when I already had Scarlet in mind.
“But he wanted to help and now he’s helping me part-time and the school’s liaison. Working with him and Allura has honestly been a godsend. His only cases are you and Plaxum, but it’s more so school focused. Other than you he’s not doing more than what his guidance counseling requires.”
Keith nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. But why are you meeting with me now?”
She smiled at him. A very genuine smile that was very fond but somehow seemed a little sad. “Well, it’s been a couple of years but we have met before. You were still so closed off I’m not surprised you don’t remember, but I heard from Shiro that you’re doing better so I thought this might be a good time.” Her phone buzzed and she quickly texted back, she shook her head fondly, still texting. “I’m sorry, it’s just my youngest son. He’s just being ridiculous.” She put away her phone. “Okay, so Shiro told me that you have some concerns over your control? It looks like you have plenty of control right now, nothing’s on fire and you had that flame under control from before.”
He frowned a little bit, so she was keeping tabs on him. He flexed his fingers. It’s true, he was pretty under control right now but he could still feel the heat swimming just under his skin. “I’m pretty calm right now. And that flame was really small.”
“Well, from previous reports it seemed that even that is an improvement from when you were younger.”
His brow furrowed. “I suppose.”
She held up her hand in a placating gesture, silver bracelets jingling. “I apologize, I just meant is that you do have control. Don’t discredit the work that you made to get here. Isn’t there someone at school that can help you with controlling your powers?”
That’s something that never occurred to him before. He supposed that he did do a lot of work to make sure that he has more control than he did before. He watched as the heat from his hands melt the leftover ice cubes in the glass that didn’t fall. His gloves weren’t smoking but acting like a furnace in eighty-degree weather wasn’t his goal. He set his hands in his lap. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, there’s no harm in asking. The sooner you find a tutor the sooner you learn and the sooner you won’t have to worry about your powers.” She might have a point but he’s been fine up until that point. Like she said he’s made improvements, he’s sure that he can make more. But how long would that take? That annoying voice of Shiro’s slithered its way into his thoughts again. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, alright? I believe under certain circumstances I can use some connections to get a portable nullifier.” She checked her watch and made her way to stand. “I’m sorry, Keith, but I have to go. If you need anything just ask okay? Shiro has my number if you need it.”
He stood up too, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket. The smooth texture of the envelope met his fingers. “Okay, I’ll tell Shiro if I need anything, and I might take you up on the offer for a nullifier.”
She shook a finger at him. “That nullifier is just in special circumstances. Like in crowded contained areas.” Her phone buzzed again continuously. “I’m sorry, it must be my son. I hope to hear from you soon, Keith!”
She rushed off speaking rapidly in Spanish. He didn’t catch much other than a brief squawk of, “Cora did what?!” followed by even more frantic Spanish as she started to jog to her car.
He snorted softly, pulling out two dollars out of his wallet for the tip. Instead of returning it to his pants pocket he clutched it in his hand in his hoodie. The pointy corners of the unopened letter jabbed at his palms. He scowled. He wasn’t evil and he wasn’t going to turn evil either. No matter what others think. Plaxum’s mother might be the exception but he’s not even going to go there.
His fingers rip off the flap on the crease, a neat, straight as an arrow line. He tosses the flap in the small trash on the bus. Foregoing a seat he wraps a hand around a yellow pole and waits out the bumpy ride. His other hand in his pocket slowly tore the rest of the envelope on the crease until he could slip out of the letter. He briefly thought that maybe he should wait until he’s around a source of water.
No matter what’s inside you don’t have to do anything it says. It doesn’t have to change you, okay?
Keith’s mouth pinched at the implication. Steeling his determination he took out the letter and let it unfold on its own. Emotions shoved to that dusty box in the back of his mind he started reading the familiar handwriting.
There’s nothing to change.
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6
Ao3
#Altea High#Sky High AU#keith#Plaxum#Shiro#klance#vld#five fricken thousand words#whyyyy#i couldn't end it until i could#my writing#lex writes#THIS WILL GO ON THE RIGHT BLOG THIS TIME
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johnlockogie replied to your post “alright lads gonna dye my hair!!!!!!!”
dye it like an adidas sweatshirt
for that maximum slav vibe ghfjdkhkjhg
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dolla dolla bill y'all
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