#than ''we must use the Pythagorean Theorem''

[theoneandonlysun]

Sun and Dusk are consistently referred to as “Goddess”. While being a deity or close to one isn’t that huge of a deal in a digital-fictional universe like this one, it’s still notable. We have many characters who could be argued to be a deity/god of some kind, like Bob or Verie (I only mention Verie because Icia considered calling her one) or Nightmare (she was enough of one to qualify for the Pythagorean Theorem achievement) or even Jessy post-ascension.

But only Dusk and Sun are OUTRIGHT called Goddess. So that gives them some implied powers and default authority. And yet, despite being given the same title, they act and are treated very differently by both the narrative and the characters in the narrative.

Why?

Because they’re two completely different kinds of Goddess.

Sun is a classical Goddess. Think of the Greco-Roman pantheon. As any fellow Percy Jackson fan can attest, the Greco-Roman gods and goddesses were very human, even too human. They were flawed as humans are flawed, and were not treated as perfect. Sun would be considered more amicable and personal than most Classical Pantheon members, seeing as she doesn’t smite people on a dime. Thus, the narrative and characters treat Sun as one of them, as a flawed, human goddess. As a reflection of the best and worst a human is capable. When given this kind of power and this kind of responsibility, Sun reacts how a human would react. Sun is loving and personal and human, but that comes at a steep cost, because no human was meant to bear the burden of a goddess. The consequences of Sun’s actions, spreading from the infinite human potential for harm, carry even more weight than a normal human’s.

Now look at Dusk.

I’ll be honest, she is just as flawed as Sun is. She has just as many shortcomings, just as many fatal mistakes. But the narrative and characters treat her very differently. At first it was just because I put effort into using specific titles, language, and rhetoric in reference to Dusk. But over time people have done that independent of me. Dusk is a Lovecraftian, modern goddess. She is deliberately written to be at least partially beyond the comprehension of the average character. She breaks the fourth wall and can function as a minor mod if need be. She’s an Eldritch goddess, and she acts like it. She’s a Bloodborne goddess, and her dominion specifically being emotion is a very key element of this part of her character. She has control over a major element of everyday life here, and the level of insanity and emotional turmoil these guys go through only goes to amplify how much sheer power the ability to control and manipulate emotions has here. But consider this. If it weren’t for her status as “Agape”, she would probably be very impersonal and ethereal, the kind of detached, distant goddess who cares not for mortal minds or lives. She is as personal as Sun, able to love and live like anyone else, just with a lot more power at her disposal when she needs it, just like sun.

Both are personal, but Sun is personal by default. Her title as “Goddess” intrinsically has that built it. Dusk doesn’t. Dusk’s title as “Goddess” belongs to those who must become impersonal and incomprehensible to deal with their knowledge and responsibilities. Thankfully, Dusk has that personal nature built in as a function of being DUSK, not being a “Goddess”. The narrative, though, understands the difference between the two seemingly similar titles, and it shows in descriptions and such, even if the titles and power levels are equally matched.

Funnily enough, they treat themselves as if they had the opposite titles. Sun throws around her power and perceived deityhood consistently and deliberately, placing herself in positions of authority. Dusk does not often “throw around” her power, instead showing it mostly in her appearance. She also deliberately makes herself equals with those she cares about, like shrinking herself down to Jessy’s size when they have an important conversation.

This is somewhat reflected in the people and dynamics they surround themselves with. Sun’s family is made of spouse and children, with her as head of a family with many under her. Dusk’s “family” is made of spouse and siblings, of many by her side. Both of the units function, and generally adhere to the titles and function of their roles. Sun disowns bob, and it has actual meaning, for example.

…Idk, there’s your rant.

DING DING DING DING DING DING DINGGGG

CORRECT!!!

this analysis is AMAZING elsie lemme tell you why

"As a reflection of the best and worst a human is capable. When given this kind of power and this kind of responsibility, Sun reacts how a human would react. Sun is loving and personal and human, but that comes at a steep cost, because no human was meant to bear the burden of a goddess. The consequences of Sun’s actions, spreading from the infinite human potential for harm, carry even more weight than a normal human’s."

EXACTLY. FOR ALL THIS TIME THISSSS IS WHAT IVE BEEN TRYING TO CONVEY YOU GUYS!!!! SHES FLAWED AND FRANTIC AND HORRIBLE AND MEAN AND SHES DOING HER FUCKING BEST BECAUSE ANYONE IN HER SITUATION WHO HAS HAD AS MUCH HURT AS HER WOULD DO THE EXACT SAME THING!!!

THEY JUST WOULDNT SUCCEED!!!

CAUSE SHES A GODDESS AND THAT PERSON IN QUESTION IS A HUMAN!!! THEY CANT DO SHIT!!!!

NOT TO MENTION HOW YOU JUST. SUDDENLY ANALYZED DUSK TOO??? LIKE. I GET HOW YOU MEAN "MODERN" AND STUFF YOU MADE DUSK SO FUCKING WELLL IT EXPLAINS SO MUUUCHHHH

POINTS. ELSIE. THIS IS THE BEST ANALYSIS EVER. LOVE YOU

[hoursofreading]

Many thinkers shared the ideas of the Radical Enlightenment, but it was Spinoza who forced Europe to reckon with them, by rooting them in a new philosophical system of formidable scope and rigor. When Spinoza writes that democracy is “of all forms of government the most natural, and the most consonant with individual liberty,” and that the best antidote to superstition is the study of science, “since the less men know of nature the more easily can they coin fictitious ideas,” he isn’t simply stating opinions. The title page of his magnum opus, the “Ethics,” promises that his ideas will be “ordine geometrico demonstrata,” “demonstrated in the manner of geometry,” and, like Euclid, he presents his arguments in the form of numbered axioms and propositions. Once you accept Spinoza’s basic assumptions about God and the universe, his political and social ideas are supposed to be as self-evident as the Pythagorean theorem. At the center of Spinoza’s thought is a new way of understanding God. Indeed, his God was so different from the one worshipped in churches and synagogues that almost everyone who read him believed he was an atheist. But Spinoza indignantly rejected the charge of atheism, and nowhere in the “Ethics” does he deny the existence of God. What he denies is that God exists as a being or intelligence separate from the rest of the universe, as he is conceived of in Judaism and Christianity. Spinoza’s argument is disconcertingly simple. God is “a being absolutely infinite,” and the idea of infinity “involves no negation”: it would be contradictory to say that there is some quality an infinite being does not possess or some space it does not occupy. It is therefore impossible for God to be somewhere—up in Heaven, perhaps—but not here, where we are. If God exists, then he must be absolutely everywhere; not even our own bodies and minds can be separate from him. As Proposition XV of the “Ethics” famously states, “Whatsoever is, is in God, and without God nothing can be, or be conceived.” This idea is known as pantheism, from the Greek for “all” and “God.” One way of looking at pantheism is that it brings us closer to God than conventional religious belief ever could; in the nineteenth century, Romantic writers considered Spinoza a “God-intoxicated man.” But, if there is no difference or distance between God and the rest of the universe, then he cannot do any of the things that we ordinarily think of God as doing: hearing prayers, working miracles, creating the world with a “Let there be light.” Really, there is no compelling reason to call Spinoza’s infinite substance God in the first place. We might as well call it Being, or Everything, or Nature. In Part IV of the “Ethics,” Spinoza refers to “the eternal and infinite Being, which we call God or Nature”—in Latin, Deus sive natura. In closing the gap between humanity, God, and nature, Spinoza also does away with any space for free will. The infinite substance that is God appears to be constantly changing, yet always in accordance with what Spinoza calls “the necessity of his nature,” or what a scientist would call natural laws. The ancient Greek engineer Archimedes said that with a lever and a place to stand he could move the Earth, but in Spinoza’s universe there is no place outside nature where we can stand in order to exert force on it, since we ourselves are part of nature. This might sound like a fatalistic view of the world, and for later thinkers the idea that the universe is nothing but a mechanism in motion, constantly changing but never going anywhere, was a recipe for nihilism and despair. But one of the things that draws people to Spinoza, and makes him perhaps the most beloved philosopher since Socrates, is his confident equanimity. He argues that the highest happiness of which human beings are capable is seeing the universe “under the aspect of eternity,” which means understanding that everything is as it must be. When he writes that “blessedness is nothing else but the contentment of spirit, which arises from the intuitive knowledge of God,” he might sound like a mystic, but for him knowing God is not a supernatural experience but a rational one. It simply means knowing “the actions which follow from the necessity of his nature,” in the same way that knowing the law of gravity allows us to understand why an object thrown with a certain force will follow a certain trajectory. It is because Spinoza sees true understanding as the key to happiness that he insists on freedom of thought. When religious authorities tell people what to believe, they make it harder to achieve a correct idea of God, and thus block the road to blessedness. Spinoza advocated for democratic government because he thought that it was more likely than monarchy or aristocracy to preserve libertas philosophandi, and thus to make it possible for human beings to become happy. As he writes in the “Tractatus,” “The basis and aim of a democracy is to avoid the desires as irrational, and to bring men as far as possible under the control of reason, so that they may live in peace and harmony.”

Baruch Spinoza and the Art of Thinking in Dangerous Times

[cristythedestroyer]

Ma.Cristel Mercado

2nd Year

Methods of Teaching Grammar

1. Diagramming sentences

Diagramming sentences is visualizing how to fit together the dilferent parts of a sentence. The subject of a clause goes in one slot, the verb in another, and so on. Words that modify another word are attached to the word they modify.

It helps students understand how a sentence works by breaking it down to the component pieces. It is like a puzzle which is not solved until all the parts are in the right place, and none are left over However, there has been a shift in the practice of diagramming.

3. Inductive Teaching

The main goal of he inductive teaching method is the retention of grarmmar concepts, with teachers using techniques that aro known to work cognitively and make an impression on students' contextual memory.

Scenario: A 5th-grade science class is learning about ecosystems and the relationships between living organisms and their environments. Instead of starting with definitions and theories, the teacher uses an inductive teaching approach to guide students toward understanding the concept of ecosystems.

4. Deductive Teaching

This type of teaching has many people rethink such methods, as more post-secondary level students are revealing sub-par literacy skills in adulthood. Deductive teaching melhods drive many students away from writing because of the tediousness of rote learning and teacher-centered approach.

Present the General Rule:

The teacher explains that this theorem applies to right-angled triangles, where (a) and (b) are the lengths of the two legs, and (c) is the length of the hypotenuse.

The teacher begins the lesson by writing the Pythagorean theorem on the board:

5. Interactive Teaching

This method allows teachers to tailor their lessons to the different learning styles of students. For instance, each student can be given a large flashcard with a word on it and the students, themselves, must physically arrange these into a proper sentence. Other games can include word puzzles or fun online quizzes.

Ask students to think about what they have learned.

Encourage them to make connections by answering these questions:

"How does evaporation occur in our environment?"

"What happens to water when it rains?"

"How can we conserve water in our daily lives?"

6. Functional-notional approach

When designing a lesson, teachers often choose real-world situation as their "notion, and choose corresponding functions to teach to prepare students to communicate in that situation in the lesson.

A lesson might be about how to buy something at a shop, in which case its notion is shopping and one of its functions might be asking prices. Functions often lend themselves naturally to specific grammatical patterns or common expressions.

7. Situational contexts

Fromkín, Rodman and Hyams (2011) sald context can be lingulstic and situational. Linguistic content is about the information that was formally written or spoken and situatlonal context is the general knowledge that a person has of the worid.

Someone is giving a speech in front of their entire school. They might rush their words more than they would in front of just their close friends because they are nervous about public speaking.

8. Using texts, stories, songs, and rhymes

There are different ways of using songs in the classroom. The level of the students, the interests and the age of the leamers, the grammar point to be studied and the song itself have determinant roles on the procedure. Apart from them, it mainly doponds on the creativity of the teacher. At the primary level of singing the song, the prosodic features of the language is emphasized. At the higher levels, where the practice of grammar points is at the foreground songs can be used with several techniques.

1. Text:

Book Chosen: Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin Jr. and Eric Carle.

Activity: The librarian reads the story aloud, showing the colorful illustrations. After each page, she asks the children, “What do you see?” encouraging them to predict the next animal.

2. Story: Short Storytelling

Story Chosen: An original short story about a friendly rabbit who goes on an adventure to find his missing carrot.

Activity: The librarian tells the story interactively, asking the children to make rabbit sounds whenever the rabbit is mentioned. She incorporates actions they can mimic, such as hopping.

3. Song: Sing-Along

Song Chosen: "Five Little Ducks."

Activity: The librarian leads the children in a sing-along, using hand motions to depict the ducks going out and the mother duck calling. After singing, she discusses the concept of counting and numbers.

4. Rhyme:

Rhyme Chosen: “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

Activity: The librarian introduces the rhyme using finger movements to illustrate the spider climbing up the spout. She encourages the children to join in, reinforcing vocabulary and movement.

9. PPP

A deductive approach often fits into a lesson structure known as PPP (Presentation, Practice,Production). The teacher presents the target language and then gives students the opportunity to practice it through very controlled activities. Presentation involves building a situation that requiresa natural and logical use of a new language. It is in the presentation stage that students krnow what they will learn and why. Practice involves testing the procedure so students can be familiar with the language. In this stage, students will be provided with activities that can make them use the new language. The production stage, being the most important stage, students here shall have made the transition from "learners" to becoming the presentation to help student communicate meaning using the new language.

Presentation

Introduce the Past Simple tense.

Activity: Begin with a brief explanation of the Past Simple tense using examples. You might present sentences like:

"I visited my grandparents last weekend."

"She watched a movie yesterday."

Practice: Provide gap-fill exercises where students complete sentences with the correct past tense form of the verb.

Example: "Last summer, we ______ (go) to the beach."

Production: Ask students to write a short paragraph about what they did last holiday. Encourage them to use as many past tense verbs as possible.

Modes of Teaching Grammar

1. Linguistic Mode

Students must be familar about the use of structures so that they will understand. Larsen-Freeman (2002, 2014) maintained that students must knaw about the use of structures that they will understand the consequences of thoir cholces because the grammatical system offers its users choices in how they wish to realize meanings and positions themselves ideologicaly and socially. Therefore, grammar teaching should not only for understanding the rules but also for inducing the of different sentence formations in different contexts.

A student enthusiastically presents their project on renewable energy to a group of judges and peers. They use clear speech, gestures, and visual aids to explain their findings and answer questions.

2. Story-telling mode

A grammar lesson is not completo without an application stage. Applicatlion is believed to require volume and repeition; that is, learners need to be given adequate opportunities to use the itens to be learnt as much as possible. Teachers should help learmers make he leap from form-focused accuracy to meaning-focused fluency after explicit ínstructions by providíng a variety of practice activities that will familiarize the learners with structure in contexts, giving practice both in form and communicate meaning.

The Monomyth method

During the journey, the lion cub finds some craxy friends and, in the end, he kicks the bad ones and marries a beautiful lioness. That here is an example of the Monomyth method - the hero leaves his home, he faces the unknown and after some adventures he has a good ending.

[alto-tenure]

The Physics of Bridge to the Turnabout

This is an extreme departure from my usual analysis, but I have my physics final on Monday, and this is helping me review.

Misty Fey's body being moved in BTTT is sometimes regarded as "really implausible". I agree! The purpose of this math is to explore whether it would have been possible for anyone to exert the necessary force to move the body over. This is NOT about the knot on the rope coming undone at the perfect time to cause Misty to not have the rope around her waist where she was found.

First, let's establish what's canon:

The rope is a suspension cable from the bridge.

The rope was tied around Misty's waist and then swung across the bridge to the other side.

Dusky Bridge is 40 feet above the bottom of the gorge, and the supporting cables are latched five feet above the base.

The bridge is 60 feet long.

Misty fell a distance of 10 feet.

Some assumptions that have to be made for the sake of making my life easier:

The mass of the rope is negligible.

Misty Fey has the same mass as an average adult woman, 61.14kg.

The suspension cables are latched to the center of the bridge, which makes them 46.098 feet long by way of the Pythagorean theorem.

To make the above work: the bridge is perpendicular to the cliff.

The height of one side of the cliff is the same as the height on the other side.

The actual length of the rope when it was swinging was 40 feet. The other six feet were either burnt off or tied around the body. This is important because otherwise Misty's body would have fallen into the river, which is not canon.

A diagram, for reader reference:

Since Misty's body ends up higher than it started, it must have been pushed rather than just let go of.

First, I had to calculate the initial velocity of the body. There had to be some additional energy besides the potential energy of gravity. As is established, the body was pushed with a force. Since we have the initial velocity of the body when it started to fly, we can also assume that it started from rest before that, and as such the velocity here is equivalent to the acceleration (a = 7.73 m/s).

From here, we can calculate the force used to shove the body.

I converted the force to pounds because no one really knows what a newton feels like. 106.25 pounds of force is a lot, admittedly, but it's not an implausible amount of force.

So while it is possible that the body of Misty Fey could have been pushed over the edge, swung 10 feet above the ground, and landed. I know nothing about knots, of course, so I can't say anything about the plausibility of the situation with the rope -- but one thing I can say is that if Misty Fey's body was pushed with 106.25 pounds of force she would probably be bruised from that, not just the fall.

In conclusion:

The cable was long enough to swing the body across, but the length had to be just right to avoid the body falling into the river by accident.

The force taken to get a 10 foot fall probably would have just left more bruising.

The rope probably still should have been around Misty's waist, but fuck if I know anything about knots.

I'm going to do mediocre on my physics exam.

Bonus calculation: It would have probably taken around 8 seconds for the body to fly, accounting for the fall.

[elle-writes-things]

Motives

Queen of Hearts: Part 5

Queen of Hearts Masterlist

Summary: Ophelia acts as Marcus’ babysitter for the first part of the day. In hand-to-hand combat, the pair discuss why he returned.

Warnings: brief (canon-typical) violence

Word Count: 2674

Master Lin taught AP Black Arts, which was the girls’ first class that day. Despite their concerns about arriving on time, the headmaster was over twenty minutes late.

“You know,” Violet began from her seat next to Ophelia, “If we were in a normal school, we would be allowed to leave.”

“Normal is overrated,” Ophelia scoffed. “You really want to sit in a moldy classroom and learn the Pythagorean theorem, or why Sam Adams threw a bunch of tea into a harbor?” Violet made a face. “Exactly,” Ophelia said. “Here we learn things that we can use in real life.”

“Yes,” Violet drawled. “Because I am going to need to know how to murder my boss with only a paper clip.”

“You never know,” Ophelia smiled. Without warning, the door threw itself open and kids scrambled to their desks. Everybody relaxed once they realized it was just Marcus that stood in the doorway. He had changed into a clean uniform, his chestnut curls damp from a shower.

“This is AP Black Arts,” Violet spoke up, looking at Marcus with disdain. He stared blankly at her. “A. P.,” she repeated slowly. “As in advanced placement.”

“I know,” he said, holding out his schedule. “This is where I’m supposed to be.” Ophelia stood up and snatched the schedule from his hand, her eyes scanning over the table. The paper was a mirror copy of her’s. Every. Single. Class.

“Lin must think he’s hilarious,” Ophelia spat, not caring to see who else had entered the room.

“I am under no illusions Ms. Henderson,” Master Lin interrupted, walking to his desk at the front of the class. “I have many talents, but, unfortunately, my humor is not one of them.” Ophelia felt her heart leap into her throat.

“My apologies Master Lin,” she said, lowering her gaze to the floor.

“Sit down Ms. Henderson,” Lin ordered. Ophelia moved to her usual seat next to Violet, but Lin stopped her. “Next to Mr. Lopez-Arguello please.” Ophelia felt the blood boil underneath her skin. It seemed that Lin had decided she was nothing more than an over glorified babysitter. Ophelia grabbed her books and stomped over to the middle row where Marcus had taken a seat. Slamming her books down on the desk, she dropped into the chair next to the boy.

“Bad morning?” Marcus asked, a grin on his face.

“Only because of you,” Ophelia hissed, fishing a pencil out of her bag.

“Today’s lesson is on motives,” Lin began cryptically. His lessons were always abstract, revealing the deepest of truths within his students. Ophelia had no intention of taking notes. Lin’s words were too captivating to be forgotten. But, the presence of a notebook and pencil gave her some semblance of control over her mind during this class, and for that Ophelia was grateful.

“World War I was started by a teenager with a pistol,” Lin spoke, pacing down the aisle. “A Serbian peasant who chose to assassinate Archduke Franz Ferdinand, setting in motion the chain reaction culminating in two world wars and todays’ Cold War.” When Lin’s back was turned, Brandy Lynn, a southern white supremacist and leader of the Cheer Death Squad, tossed a note onto Marcus’ book. He shot Ophelia a questioning look to which she gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Character is revealed through choice,” Lin said as Marcus moved to open the note. “Consider for a moment,” Lin suggested, slamming the tip of his cane onto the folded piece of paper. Marcus stammered out an apology as Lin scanned the room. Without warning, he swung his cane into Brandy’s nose, splattering droplets of blood across Marcus’ face.

“Jesus!” Marcus shouted as the girl whimpered. Her hands flew to her bleeding face, eyes blinking rapidly with reflex tears. The other students muffled their chuckles. Even Ophelia couldn’t contain her smile.

“Who would be the recipient of your rage?” Lin asked, as if nothing unusual had occurred. “A thief? A child molestor? A world leader?” Brandy smeared the blood collecting on her upper lip and ran her fingers over her tongue, all the while maintaining eye contact with Marcus. Ophelia snickered at the boy’s obvious discomfort and turned to look at Master Lin who was now at the front of the classroom. 

“Ask yourself, on that dark ledge, poised to strike with clean opportunity, who would you kill?” Murmurs broke out across the classroom as kids whispered names to their friends. “Your homework tonight, half your semester grade, will tell me who you really are,” Lin continued. “Use your training and search the city for a worthy target. Someone you think deserves to die, and kill them.” Nobody spoke, all awed by Lin’s words. The abrupt dismissal of a bell broke the spell and the students began to pack up. 

“Discard the body and hide all evidence,” Lin ordered. “Bring me proof.” Ophelia tossed her books in her bag and moved to leave, only to notice that Marcus was frozen in his seat.

“Should be no problem for a killer like you,” Willie spat as he walked by the boy. That seemed to shake Marcus out of his trance and he quickly grabbed his stuff. Ophelia rolled her eyes at the boy’s antics and moved to leave.

“Wait,” Marcus called out behind her. Ophelia stopped mid step and sighed.

“Yes,” she asked, turning around with an emotionless smile painted on her face.

“What class do we have next?” Marcus asked, his eyes pleading.

“I don’t know your schedule,” Ophelia lied, “but I have hand-to-hand combat next.”

“Really,” Marcus asked in surprise. “So do I.”

“No. Way,” Ophelia muttered under her breath.

“Listen,” Marcus started. “I know you don’t like me but I have no idea where my classes are and the longest conversation I’ve had today has been with you.” Ophelia arched a dark eyebrow and held Marcus’ gaze. He squirmed uncomfortably, shifting his feet. While deciding whether or not to pity the boy, she caught a glance of Demetrius over Marcus’ shoulder. A devilish thought came to mind and without further ado, Ophelia linked her arm with Marcus’. 

“Of course you can walk me to class,” she said loudly, holding her brother’s gaze.

“Oh. I um—I didn’t mean—” Marcus stammered.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ophelia hissed under her breath. “You’re helping me piss off my brother.”

“I don’t know if I want to piss off anymore people today,” Marcus said as they made their way down the hallway.

“You can’t piss off anybody worse than Chico,” Ophelia told him, stopping at the entrance of the boys’ locker room. Marcus looked up at the sign and chuckled.

“At least buy me dinner first,” he joked. Ophelia just glared and shoved him towards the door. 

“Change into your robes and meet me out here,” she told him.

“Yes mam,” Marcus replied, walking into the locker room. Ophelia went to the girls’ locker room on the other side of the hallway and was met with a round of cheers.

“That’s my girl!” Violet shouted. “Is he a good kisser?”

“I don’t know,” Ophelia admitted. A chorus of groans went up. “Yet,” she added with a smile, going to her locker. Maria was right beside her, tying the sash on her robe.

“You like him?” she asked. Ophelia managed to contain her smile at the girl’s obvious jealousy.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she told Maria.

“Well,” Maria huffed, “You shouldn’t lead him on.” Ophelia barked out a laugh.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Ophelia scoffed, tying her robe. “Why do you care? You have Chico.”

“Right,” Maria said bitterly. “Because Chico’s such a catch.” Ophelia felt her heart break a little for the girl who had no way out of her toxic relationship.

“Maria—” Ophelia started.

“Don’t,” Maria said, slamming her locker. “I can see the looks everybody gives me. I can take care of myself. I’m not some damsel in distress.” Ophelia figured Maria’s words were more to convince herself than Ophelia but she let the matter go. Closing her locker, she made her way into the hall where Marcus was waiting with his robe poorly tied. Ophelia laughed at the boy’s hopelessness.

“Here,” she said, yanking the boy to her by his belt. “Let me help you with that.” With deft moves she re-tied his belt around his toned waist. The boy turned bright red and took a large step back as soon as she finished.

“Relax Marcus,” Ophelia said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. “I’m not a nun, and you’re not the first boy I’ve helped dress.”

“Alri—O-Ok then,” Marcus said, at a loss for words.

“Let’s go,” Ophelia told him, grabbing his wrist and starting down the hallway. When they got inside the classroom she dropped his arm. “Have fun,” she told him, making her way over to Violet and Charlotte, who wore matching smirks on their faces. Before she could reach her friends, Demetrius stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“Trying to get to my friends,” Ophelia said, trying to step around him. Demetrius grabbed her wrist stopping her.

“If you think this is funny—” Demetrius threatened.

“I think this is hilarious,” Ophelia said, struggling to contain her laughter. “You are so easy to rile up.” Demetrius narrowed his eyes at her.”

“Don’t worry,” Ophelia teased. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.

“That’s exactly why I am worried,” Demetrius sighed, releasing her arm. He stepped out of her path and walked to the other side of the classroom while Ophelia made her way to Violet and Charlotte.

“You sly little minx,” Violet accused.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this,” Charlotte complained. “She does this all the time.”

“Yes,” Violet agreed. “But the other boys weren’t nearly as attractive.”

“Attention class,” Ms. DeLuca called out, effectively silencing the students. “When the Republic of Texas openly declared genocide, which Indian tribe survived for another forty years?” Ms. DeLuca’s lessons were always like that. Abrupt and no-nonsense.

“Well they all got done in the end,” Willie joked, turning his laugh into an awkward cough when Ms. DeLuca gave him an unimpressed look. “Sorry Ms. DeLuca.”

“The fierce Comanche survived due only to strength and cunning,” Ms. DeLuca told the class. “Remember, hand-wringing liberal ideas won’t keep you safe. The world respects those who can protect themselves. Every opponent has a weakness. Pick a partner and find theirs.” Ophelia grabbed Violet’s arm while Charlotte went to a prep she had sunk her  claws into during AP Black Arts.

“I’m surprised you don’t want Marcus,” Violet said, looking back at the body who was without a partner. 

“I thought I’d give Maria a fighting chance,” Ophelia said, nodding her head toward the girl who was making her way over to Marcus.

“How generous of you,” Violet said, before swinging  a fist at Ophelia’s head. Ophelia stepped back and caught the limb, driving her knee towards Violet’s stomach. Before long, the girls were in a familiar dance of strikes and both of their chests heaved with the effort. Marcus watched the girls spar, awed at the fluidity of their motions. It was clear that they were not like him, a random rat dragged off the street. They had been groomed for this.

“Hey,” someone said, breaking his thoughts. Marcus looked up to see Maria holding a hand out to him.

“No, no. I’m good,” he protested, waving his hands.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing his arm and leading him to an empty mat.

“Dude, I know you got me in this leg shear, but your boner’s digging into my chest cavity,” Billie said from across the room where Viktor was straddling him. “I get it, soft and warm. I use lotion.”

“Hey, sorry about Chico,” Maria said, drawing his attention back to her. “I know you’re crazy or whatever, but you shouldn’t mess with him.”

“You shouldn’t date such an asshole,” Marcus countered, looking over Maria’s shoulder where Ophelia and  her friend were still sparring. The flurry of punches and kicks resembled a dance more than a fight, and Marcus found himself hypnotized by their movements once more. Maria turned around to see what he was looking at and narrowed her eyes.

“Guys always go for girls they can’t have,” she snapped. Without warning, a clear snap echoed through the room. Maria and Marcus turned to look at Billie who was laying on the floor. He slapped the floor with one arm while the other laid limp by his side.

“Is anybody going to help him?” Marcus asked.

“Bogus move,” Maria told him. “He should have elbow knee escaped into a triangle. Besides, size doesn’t matter.” Marcus looked at her in disbelief. Viktor was twice Billie’s size. There was no way that was a fair fight.

“It’s okay,” Maria said, placing his hands on her waist. “Let me show you.” Marcus learned that it was very much not ‘okay’ when Maria flipped him over her shoulder with a grunt. His landing knocked the wind out of him and he rolled over on his side, gasping for air. Once he was able to breathe again, he took the hand Maria offered and pulled himself up. 

“Now you try to do that to me,” Maria told him, placing her hands on his waist. Marcus tried to mimic her movements but only succeeded in making her stumble.

“It’s alright,” she told him. “That’s not bad for your first try.” 

“Really?” Marcus asked hopefully.

“No. It was pretty terrible,” Maria admitted. “It’s just physics. Try again, but this time use your core and legs. Step into it.” She placed her hands on his waist again and gave him an encouraging smile. This time, Marcus was able to throw her over his hip. Instead of landing on her back like Marcus had, Maria sprung off of her hands and crouched with her hand raised up. Propelling herself upward, she launched a foot at Marcus' head. He was able to dodge the limb but stumbled to the ground. Maria launched herself at him and he found himself pinned to the mat by the Mexican girl.

“Find a new partner!” Ms. DeLuca ordered from the front of the room. Maria climbed off of Marcus and gave him a hand up.

“You’re learning,” she told him.

“Thanks.”

“Mind if I step in?” someone asked the two. Marcus turned to see Ophelia looking at Maria expectedly.

“Don’t you usually partner with Willie?” Maria asked skeptically.

“He’s still mad at me for dislocating his shoulder last time,” Ophelia explained. The two girls stared at each other, and a tense challenge hung in the air.

“Maria!” Ms. DeLuca shouted. “Find a new partner.” Maria stomped off with a huff and Ophelia turned to Marcus.

“Please don’t kill me,” Marcus pleaded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry,” Ophelia said with a laugh. “You were working on flips with Maria?”

“I mean,” Marcus shrugged, “If you can really call it that.”

“It’s alright,” Ophelia told him, gently grabbing his wrist. “Let me show you. Hand here, and here.” Marcus looked down at the girl, trying to predict her next move.

“Why did you really come back?” Ophelia asked him.

“I needed a place to hide from the pigs,” Marcus said. Ophelia wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I think you need a better reason,” she told him. Then, without warning, she twisted his arm and hooked a foot around his neck. Within seconds, Marcus was laying on his stomach with Ophelia’s legs wrapped around his neck.

“Think of any?” she asked him, a grin spreading across her face. Her grip on his neck loosened and Marcus took the chance to launch himself forward. Ophelia’s legs fell open so that she was straddling his waist, and Marcus pinned her hands on either side of his head. Both teenagers took deep breaths, trying to distract themselves from their proximity. Marcus allowed a cheeky grin to spread across his face. 

“I think I’ve found one.”

[hiddenlife-manager]

𝓟𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓶𝓮, 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮!

Prompt: Y/n fell in love in with the one and only Rintaro Suna the middle blocker at her High School the problem was is that she lived in the Shadow of everyone else. Yet she was the main shadow of her best friend who as well gained a crush on the Middle Blocker. 

IMPORTANT: HIYA, I want to address this here. For Aran Ojiro there is this line that said he is 'darker than average ' totally did not mean to come out like that and I changed it by removing it because the entire line was a bit insulting because it seriously comes out wrong. I addressed it on a post and should say this is not edited and if something else comes out wrong please tell me I want to make a safe space. I myself am Dominican and I consider myself a black Hispanic so I don't want any wrong sayings to offend any one. Love to all!!

Extra: Female pronouns. I want to add that it was my first ever tumblr fanfic that I wrote on tumblr. I wanted to rush so the end isn't what I planned. At the end you'll be getting the song that I listened the most when writing this. Hope you liked it. As well as there isn't much romance but angst for the character so uh sorry I might do head cannon's for Inarizaki.

" You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. " - Mr. Darcy

“ Y/n! " A loud voice could be heard from behind. Raising my head up I turn to look behind me to see the one and only girl. " Y/n-chan! " The loud voice echoed through the area. A sudden shush could be heard towards us. The both of us turn our head to the shush to see the librarian looking at us both. " Sorry Mrs. Ayako! " The bubbly voice yelled out bowing her head. Yet with her yelling she was shushed once again. " Sorry again Mrs. Ayako. " She whispers. The librarian hums and turns her head. She quickly grabs a chair and sits down next to me. " Hello Y/n-chan. What book are you reading? " She whispers.

" Hello, Maeko. I am reading the English book called Little Women. " I answered her as she looks over my shoulder to see what page I was on.

" Why are you so good at reading in English I have a 53% in English literature. " She complains as she quickly leans back in her seat. " Anyway I have a really exciting story to tell you so uh where do I start? " She mutters as she taps her chin. She hums as she grabs my book out of my hands shutting it as she pushes it across the very table were sitting at. " I want all of your attention. Please! We are friends. " She begs giving me a pouting face.

" All right. Go ahead and tell me what happened to make the story so exciting. " I spoke out turning my chair to face her. She smiles.

" I was in Geometry and I saw him. " I tilt my head wanting her to specify who him is. " Well you know, Picture. " I nod knowing what the word Picture meant. " I was working on the Pythagorean theorem because teach wanted us to review it. " I raise a hand up after taking in the first words she said to start the story.

" Wait back track a but you were in Geometry isn't that your third class. He should have been in your class from the beginning of the day. Did you not notice him at all? " I asked as she shakes her head rapidly.

" Well uh he skipped our first two class and entered in Geometry. " She responded while I him nodding my head. " Well anyway there I was working on the review when he walked in. He was on his phone doing something the moment he entered he stood at the door as the teacher looked at him annoyed he puts his phone in his pocket and says ' Sorry Professor I woke up late so I'll be heading to my- ' He pauses as he saw that his seat was taken by the school bully. I could see it all because I have the window seat in the far back. So he walked up to the school bully and the bully told him ' Aw am I in your seat Volleyball boy well you got to fight me for it. ' Can you believe it him fighting such a loser. Anyway Picture rolled his eyes and can you guess what happened next? " She asked as blush started to go up to her cheeks.

" Huh I have no clue I mean you know him more than me I only go to the practice matches for you nothing more. " I answered. She nods and opens her mouth to sigh. She raises her hand up placing the back of her hand on her forehead.

" He walks over to the empty seat in front of me. IN FRONT OF ME! " She screams the last part and the librarian looks at the both of us shushing us. I mutter a sorry and faced her to see that her face was completely red. " I just can't believe it. I forgot to mention when he rolled his eyes it was so hot that I practically almost passed out. But what made closer to blacking out was him pulling a chair from the desk right in front of me. He places his bag on his chair and sits down. The professor walks up to him and tells him what page we were working on before he interrupted the class. Like how rude is our Professor he hums and gets to work. " She shines me a smile that lit up the dark library.

" I guess this was an exciting story worth my time. Well Maeko I enjoy our time together but I have to head home early. " I said getting up from my chair as I grabbed the bag hanging on the chair and placed it on the table. A little half a heart charm shone seeing the red heart brightly look at me.

" Aw I would walk with you if it wasn't for the fact that I have soccer practice. " She pouts and gets up from her seat.

" Oh it's fine I can handle the walk home. You probably should head to soccer practice now. Be an early bird. " She hums and grabs her bag she reaches the book she slid and slid it back to me I got it placing it in my bag.

" Y/n I was wondering if you could let me copy your English Literature notes. I know you are taking college classes but I bet you have good notes to help me for my next test. " She compliments me as she leans towards me her long brown hair falling in front of her eyes covering her beautiful hazel eyes that shines in the sun.

" Uh yeah here. " I dug my hand into the bag my eyes looked inside. My hands pushed notebooks aside while I looked for my English Literature notes, once my eyes caught the dull navy blue notebook I pulled it out. I looked at the words in the front to see English Literature. " I need this back by tomorrow morning so keep it safe. " I specified for her to understand.

" It's like you don't trust me I'll keep it safe no matter what I promise. You are such a great Friend. " I nod smiling back to her bright self. " Well I'm heading out thanks again. " I him as she swings her bag over her shoulder while she jogs gently out of the Library, the moment my eyes couldn't see her with a low sigh I swing my bag over my shoulder pushing in the two chairs in. I start to head towards the librarian. Pulling my phone out of my pocket I start to look for my music app, lowering my phone down to face the one person who seemed to understand me I smile towards the old lady. " Bye Mrs. Ayako sorry about Maeko being a bit loud. " I spoke out while I leaned on her check out desk.

" Oh it's nothing just tell her to be a bit more quieter next time. " She calmly said while she picked up a pen and started to write on a piece of paper. I wave as I turn around raising my phone up. " Y/n wait. " I turn around to see her turning around as she heads to her private office. I walked towards her desk once more looking through the glass of her office I could see she was shuffling around in her office. " Here it is! " She yelled out walking back to the desk walking back she held a large packet of paper and slid it on the table. " I did promise to edit your story. I don't read scripts at all unless I edit it but this script idea is quite amazing. The love story between them made me tear up a bit maybe one day you will be able to direct a movie or show for once. Their romance made me feel young again. Besides that I know I said I will try to get it done when I am free I got it down in three days. Whatever inspired you to write such a story, a script continue following it. " I smile bowing.

" Thank you so much. I will read your notes and things you want me to do and change and will bring you back the final product of it. " I grabbed the packet placing it in my bag and bowing once more. She waves me a good bye as I head out of the library. Walking out I reached in to my bags front pockets grabbing a pair of earbuds so I could listen to music. I headed towards my cubby that held my outside shoes. While walking I thought of the plot of my script.

" A girl who lives in the shadow unknown by everyone else except for her best friend who grew up with her. Together they were considered the Yin Yang. The main girl Yin the darkness. Her best friend Yang the heavens. Though the Yang is mainly thought of as manly. The two helped each other the more they grew up her best friend or should I say Yang gained looks, money, more friends, and known by all while the main girl or Yin got deeper into the shadows the shadows of being forgotten. Though Yang was well known Yang never forgot who her real best friend was, Yin. Yet they never seemed to drift apart ever even if they both were put in different situation. Until Yin one day saw a boy a boy who grabbed her attention because for once he wasn't like all the others who cares about Yang, he cared about himself at most. Wanting to announce her findings to her best friend she rushed Yang to announce it but for her luck Yang was looking for her too. "

I paused as I made it to my cubby quickly unlocking it with my key I looked inside to see my skateboard and my shoes slipping my school shoes off I quickly placed them inside pulling my outside shoes out of the cubby. I slip them on and fix the back of the shoes once they were firmly on I reached out for my skateboard holding it in my arms. I start heading towards the volleyball gym as it is my way to head home behind the gym is a trail and the trail is the only way to enter the forest where our neighborhood lays. While heading the gym I go back to the script wanting to finish the simple recap.

" The Yin of the friendship ran to the Yang of the friendship. The moment Yang saw Yin she yelled our wanting to tell Yin her big news. Once the both stood in front of each other Yang announced first that she had something huge. With Yang's announcement Yin put aside her's for her friend. Yin will forever think about the moment. Yang announced that she had a crush bringing Yin's interest even more Yin thought that if they both had a crush the both of them could work hard to ask them out but when Yin asked who her answer shocked Yin. Yang announced that she gained a crush on the boy who Yin saw. Yin smiled brightly towards her best friend but inside Yin's heart cracked yet stayed together with just band aids. Yin knew what she had to do, to give up on the one thing that made her feel different. Yang meant so much for her that Yin knew what she had to do. "

I glance up to see the gym I quickly wanted to walk past it as Picture was there. But inside I wanted to see if they all were doing anything really interesting. I looked at the time on my phone to see that I had spare time to at least check if they were doing anything. They wouldn't notice me at all because well I live in the shadows behind Maeko. With a deep breath in I quickly jog towards the gym door. With a quick skip over the outside shoes I slid towards the door peaking my head out to see what is happening in the gym.

As my eyes examined the area I saw what they were doing. The team seemed to be setting up the net. The most popular one in the team Atsumu was holding onto one end of the one volleyball pole, on the other end was his twin the second most popular one Osamu they both were twins and we'll I always thought that maybe Maeko would have a crush on one of them because they seemed to be in the same level of popularity as the both but you can never judge a book by its cover. I never talked to the twins even if they were the same year as me. Osamu is in my class but we never held a conversation. Atsumu and I have not once been put in a situation to talk to each other.

With a shake of my head I glance towards Ojiro many found him quite interesting as a player. Ojiro-san was running across the gym back and forth with a broom to sweep up whatever was left by classes throughout the day. Ojiro-san a third year he tends to not want to stick out do he disappears through the day. Free time which isn't so common he disappears to be only found when classes begin. Only once did I ever accidently talk to him I was heading home when he was taking a jog down the trail. Long story short I was riding my skateboard and a rock was in front I flung forward while my board was flung behind me hitting Ojiro who was running behind me. I apologized but I have a feeling he still hates me for it.

With glance around once more I saw Kita-san handing water bottles out to the entire team. Kita a year above me seemed to interest me in a way but not in a crush way more of a mentor. I barely knew anything about him except for the fact that we both tend to volunteer to water the flowers in our school garden. Kita barely ever talks and if he does it is only to pass things between us. He cares about flowers and is the reason why I have my own garden in front of my window. But there was nothing between us the only thing that seemed important was that we both volunteer when lunch comes to water the garden.

With another glance I noticed some weren't there at all. Including Picture who I thought would be there. But with his habit of being a bit late to events I guess you couldn't ever blame him. After all he was such a good Middle blocker he makes up for being a bit unenergized to do anything. He wasn't anywhere in the gym and even the Libero was a bit late. I sigh feeling like I wasted my time being here if Picture wasn't here. Inside maybe I wanted him to be there so I could see him play without having to act as if I wasn't interested around Maeko. So I could admire and take in the unique sport. Sure on the outside it seemed as if I didn't want him there but in reality I wanted him there.

" If you are here to confess to Atsumu just leave he'll reject you. " I jump screaming out loud in fear as I walk back after my feet hit the ground. I recognized the voice the voice of Picture, I turn around to see him standing there with his hands in his pocket he looked so uninterested. Someone runs up from behind him noticing that it was the Libero of the team.

" Woah aren't you Maeko's friend. Uh what's your name uh Mina, Mana, Mio, Mini Misaki something with a M. Or is it something else? Whatever but you are one of her friends right? " He asked and I stood there blinking as I took in what he said. Maeko's Friend.

" Y/n's my name. " I muttered noticing that I got quiet.

" Can I just call you Maeko's friend it is just so much easier? " The Libero asked. I shrug use to the nickname Maeko's Friend it was something that I grew up.

" Is it the Maeko in my class right? " Suna asked the Libero nods and he hums. " She is good looking I guess. Pretty smart as well if I remember correctly I sat in front of her in class today. " Suna spoke out. The Libero looks at Suna and gasps.

" Cool wish I was you! " He spoke out turning to look at me " Maeko's friend on a scale of 1 to 10 how close are you to her? " He asked. We are best friends but no one knows it because they think Kikyo is her best friend because they hang out a whole bunch in public.

" A 9 we are best friends. " I mutter the Libero laughs out loud and places a hand on my shoulder.

" You are so funny it is obvious anyone who take a 9 and 10 is Kikyo. I mean Maeko and Kikyo are both popular they are obviously closer. We would have known you if you were her best friend. Suna do you recognize this girl? " He asks.

" Not at all. What hear are you in even? " He asked and I froze he didn't even know the year I am in the same year he is in. I- I- I- sat next to him in the beginning of the year in the auditorium. Maeko sat next to me. " Now that I think about it Maeko was sitting next to me in the beginning of the year in the auditorium. " My heart that was held with Band-Aids felt as if it had a part crash on the ground. He sat directly next to me and he didn't even noticed me but the bright Maeko next to me the one a seat away he noticed her.

" You are so lucky she is in your year and class I'm a third year she'll probably only go for guys I'm her year. Anyway Maeko's friend you can believe what you want we won't stop you. But Suna's is right if you are here to ask Atsumu you will be rejected and placed on the wall of rejection. Suna takes photos of the girls who are rejected by Atsumu. " I shake my head and grip my skateboard.

" I just came to see if I left anything in Gym nothing more nothing less. " I turn around and jog away wanting to leave that whole situation. The last words yelled towards me made me want to cry bringing reality to me.

" HEY MAEKO'S FRIEND! " I ran away seeing the trail I quickly turned and dropped my skateboard onto the ground as I hopped onto it riding it down the trail while my thoughts swirled. I kept mumbling the same two words over and over.

" Maeko's Friend

Maeko's Friend

Maeko's Friend

Maeko's Friend

Maeko's Friend! "

" I'm only Maeko's Friend. I am nothing more all I am is in her shadow. Because that is the best I can do Maeko has perfect grades and all I have is 100% in all of my classes while Maeko succeeds with almost 109% in all of her classes except for English Literature. She helps teachers so much she gets extra credit. " I could feel tears going down my cheek as I stood on my board that moved down the trail.

" If I was Maeko maybe Suna would accept my confession. " I muttered. I shake my head knowing I could never be her because I am me. I am a shadow I am Maeko's shadow. " Nothing more. I could be less at least I am a shadow. " I muttered wiping the tears off of my cheek as I kick off the ground to be pushed more forward and a bit faster. Maeko is an amazing person I have nothing against her we are best friends. Right? " Are we really. "

" We are friends. "

" You are such a great Friend. " I muttered remembering her saying that. Not once did I ever hear her call me best friend since the beginning of High School. I'll just ask her tonight.

I take a deep breath in as I place my earbuds in while I stood on my skateboard. All I wanted to escape this world in some way if music was the safest it was the only way to distract myself from the world and what Rintaro said about me back there. As the jazz music started to play I let my body relay a bit placing my phone in my bags pocket I stared forward occasionally pushing the ground to move forward faster. The trail even if it now isn’t a trail and is a sidewalk next to a road was smooth letting me not worry about tripping on any stones like last year that caused that whole Ojiro incident. 

I bopped my head back and forth enjoying the music played through my earbuds. It was calm nothing so electric like Maeko’s pop music she listens to. The wind blew on my face I felt it feeling refreshing the wind made me feel free for once. I felt as if I was flying away from my problems. In school I felt as if I was a shadow I am a shadow but when writing scripts to movies or shows I want to direct helps me move on. 

After a bit of skating I was able to make it home the moment I saw my home I quickly hit the back of skateboard as I flew up I grabbed my board in my arms. I head to my house by foot. Noticing my mother’s car I knew that she finished work early. Walking up to the door I lean over taking my shoes off of my feet. I quickly opened the door walking in as the smell of sweets hit you right in the face. Placing my shoes on our little rack for shoes I walk into the living room to see my dog laying on the couch. I walk over to her petting her head lightly as I head over to the kitchen to see my mother in her apron as she starts to take cake layers out of the oven. Hearing me placing my board on the side she turned. 

" Ah you are home I thought you were kidnapped I was hoping for the kidnapping. " I chuckle lightly knowing that I couldn’t tell my mom about Maeko. Sure she knew about the situation with her crush being my crush but me overthinking our relationship would concern her. Pulling my earbuds out as I pause my music and placing the very phone in a pocket with the earbuds I lightly said.

" Maybe I should get kidnapped so I won’t have to help B/n with his homework. Anyway I am just cleaning my hands so I can work on editing the script. " I explained wanting to quickly get into my room and work. She hums and lets me pass to the sink. I clean my hand in the sink. 

" So your teacher finished editing amazing if you want you can always use the home computer and printer to print a new script. After all your father did get it from America so we want to use it as much as we can. " She spoke out and I hum. 

" I will use it after I edit it on paper but for today I won’t be using it. Got to go love. " I kiss her cheek and head out of the kitchen. Grabbing my skateboard. I rush towards my bed room. seeing my door I grab the door sliding to the side and shutting it behind me. I looked around my room to see it clean with posters of art pieces. Books laid around everywhere on my bed the only part that isn’t neat. My study table and pillow on the floor with a pencil holder in the middle of the table. Far in the corner a collection of skateboards. 

" Home sweet home for once. " I spoke out walking over to where my skateboards are placing it down in it’s place. I grab my phone from the pocket in the bag. I stop for a second seeing the charm that made me believe. Shaking my head, I walked over to my bed full of books for my enjoyment to study books. I fall back hitting a couple of books as my phone laid on my chest. 

~~~

" Hey Maeko. " I muttered as I held the phone up to my ear.

" Yeah? " She asked while I heard shuffling in her room.

" I know this is weird and all but who is your best friend? " I asked and she giggles.

" Don't be silly it's obvious who my best friend is I hang out with her all the time. " I smiled knowing she would say me. " Kikyo. " The smile dropped and for once felt it. My heart shattering into millions of pieces. " We okay soccer together, she and I go shopping. It's almost like we knew each other for years. I never felt that with anyone else. She even is planning to help me ask Rintaro out this Friday under the Sakura tree. " She spoke out.

" Wow Kikyo is amazing just like you. Makes sense why you two are best friends. " I spoke out putting a fake smile on my face even if she couldn't see it.

" Y/n don't worry sure we known each other for years but we were always more like friends than best friends. I found Kikyo who is so similar to me I can't believe it. Anyway thanks for the notes I am writing them down right at this moment. " She said and I hum. " I have to go Kikyo is calling it's about the plan on asking Rintaro to meet me at the Sakura tree. " I hum one last time not even letting it finish as she hung up. I didn't know what I felt the moment she hung up. I just sat there tears down my cheek, heart shattered completely, and no one to call.

" The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly. " - F. Scout Fitzgerald

With a scratch on my door I get up wiping the tears off of my cheeks I slid the door a bot to see a furry head I sigh letting the dog into the room she quickly runs up onto my leg wanting to be picked up. I sigh picking her up and walked towards the bed laying back down on the bed as my puppy lay there next to me.

" How can you be so cute. Suna would probably accept your confession but mine he doesn’t know who I am at all the only person he does is my best I mean just friend Maeko. Here I was delusional thinking I was her best friend. Of course I should have known I am always picked last! I should change everything about me so I can just get his attention. " I spoke out as I pet my puppy who had an American name. " Marley can you explain why I am never the first choice? " I asked as she yawns. 

" Maeko never cared about you and just used you so just tell her you want to end the friendship.  " I jump hearing a voice. I look down at my puppy to see if it was her who spoke but the door slid open to see my mother who held dumplings in her hand. " Sorry I was listening in it’s just I don’t like how you are so passive. I want to help. " I sigh as she places a plate down on my study table. Walking over to my bed she sits down and Marley ends up running to my mother's licking her hand and going back to me.

" Mom how much did you hear? " I asked. She sighed getting up and walking towards the dumplings she set down. She picks them up turning around to face me. Gently she gives them to me. I held them and looked at her as she sat back down grabbing the puppy so that the puppy wouldn't eat my food.

" Eat up. " I sigh grabbing the chopsticks on the plate. " How do I explain this. Do you remember the last time Maeko's mother and I were in the same room? " She asked and I shrug not remembering the last time. " Well it has been a year we got in an argument when Maeko's mother said that you were nothing compared to Maeko's. As your mother I didn't take it lightly so I gave her a cake full of vegetables for revenge. After that argument I guess I'm the background I noticed how Maeko and you weren't as close the both of you were. I assumed it was just that the both of you were getting older and I didn't want to feel as if it was my revenge that caused it. " She muttered while I ate the dumplings.

" So you practically gave Maeko's mother a cake full of vegetables as revenge. You shouldn't have done that because she's right all I am is... Was Maeko's shadow now I'm just a shadow. " I muttered she glares at me and sighs even more.

" No you aren't sure it might have been my fault but Maeko's mother had no right to say that to the child I gave birth too. Even if it was a pain raising you. Anyway that whole situation with that boy uh Suna if I am right made me think about how I was in that situation as well. " She explained and I stuffed another dumpling in my mouth. " You know how I never mentioned how I met your sister's father. " I nod. " Well one we never got married two he was my highschool crush trust me I love your father but in High School he charmed me just by existing. I was like you I never talked ever, I did things that would let me disappear in school everything about me being quiet was the reason I had trouble getting in contact with him. But I was bullied by these two girls because of being quiet I let it happened. Until one day I snapped and decided to change how I looked and acted. " She sighs.

" You changed because you wanted to grab his attention or was it because you wanted the bullying to stop? " I asked while I chewed on part of a dumpling.

" Both I wanted it to stop make them understand I am better than them in all ways. I also wanted to show off and get his attention. How dumb of me. I grabbed his attention and we started dating. But he never really knew the real me because he wanted to go to parties. Got pregnant when I was 20 and had your daughter I left him that same year because all he cared about was being the center of attention. Long story short I knew he never really cared about the real me when your older sister was 7 I met your father got pregnant when she 9 and married your father. But the thing is is that when I met your father he recognized me for being me. The reason I'm telling you this is that if he doesn't like the real you then what is the point is he really worth your time? " She asked and I look at her as I set the chopsticks down on the plate.

" He didn't even know who I was. I sat next to him in the beginning of the year and yet he only remembered Maeko. Maeko and I aren't best friends anymore all I ever did was help her out this year and listen to her she never listened to my problems. " I muttered as I looked down at the plate feeling tears going down as everything hit me.

" In reality is he worth your time? Is she worth staying friends with? " She asked.

" We are best friends! " The bubbly voice of Maeko as I looked up to her who was building a sand castle out of the sand. " We built this together forever we will rule this land together. " She called out handing me her hand to rule together the castle.

" I can't wait to win the soccer game you will watch me right? We are best friends. " Her voice boomed across the field as I held her board that had her name across of it. I nod as she hugs me.

" Okay everyone Maeko and Akio are team captains Maeko choose first. " The teacher spoke out as Maeko walks up and looks around.

" I PICK MY BEST FRIEND Y/N ! " She yelled out and everyone looked at me. I walked up to stand next to her as she hugged me.

" We are going to Inarizaki right? " She asked out as her hair bounced while we jogged down the trail, nodding to her answer she smiles. " I can't be there without my best friend. " She said while we jumped over a log.

" Ready to enter together. " She raised her hand up as I grabbed her hand holding each other's hand. " I know you are quiet but together we will be the most popular. " I nod and she smiles. " No matter what nothing will stop us from being Best Friends? " I shake my head as she smiles. " 1, 2, 3, 4, 5! " She jogged towards the school.

" It's time to let go for the both of you. " My mother places her hand on my back rubbing my back to comfort me.

" No boy would ruin our friendship. " Maeko spoke out as we roasted marshmallows over our campfire. " Promise. " I turned to look at her and smiled. Opening my mouth I responded.

" I promise. "

" We promised so much back then. " I muttered while tears collected on the plate creating a puddle of tears. " I kept to the promise wanting a boy to never come over our friendship. I kept quiet I was always picked by her. No one ever wanted me. But for once she picked people over me. " I mumbled as I gulped and raised a hand up to my cheek.

" Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one. " – Albert Einstein

Sitting there for the first time ever at the table in which Maeko and her group of friends with her best friend normally would have lunch at. I could tell people's eyes were on me because for once I revealed myself out in the public. I never sat with her at this table because I couldn't fit in like the rest. I ate with the librarian and or I didn't eat and watered the garden in the school. Whispers could be heard as I sat there looking down at the one thing that we shared when we were kids.

" Hey Y/n here is my friendship charm. I made it you can hand it up on anything on your bag or we can make it into a clip like mine. What will you do? " She asked as she handed me a charm that was half of a heart basic but I could tell she meant a lot by it. " I saved up money to buy both I hope you like it? " She looked down and I smiled.

" I love it Maeko see here it is I am clipping it on my bag. The way you put it in a clip is so creative just like you. " I complemented as she ran up to me and hugged me.

I had it hooked on all of my bags that I took to school but it was back in Year one of High School that she stopped wearing the charm. She told me it was childish and I understood but still kept it on my bag because no one would notice it. I wasn't the center of attention like she was so I understood. But maybe that was the first ever clue that we weren't best friends anymore. Or maybe it was her having to put me in a schedule and not with her other friends.

" Y/n what are you doing her at our table you never sit here? " A voice asked I raised my head to see Maeko surrounded by her other friends. I sighed standing up from the seat. " Oh wait I'm sorry I couldn't walk with you to school here is your English Literature notes they helped a lot. " She said I nod. " Is something wrong? " She asked. I take a deep breath in as I look up to her to see her holding my notes.

" I just want to say something if that is fine with you? " I asked and she looks at her friends.

" Yeah definitely make it quick please because we want to eat. " She asked and I sigh.

"Change you for once make time for me to tell you something. " I spurted out and gasp as I covered my mouth everyone's eyes were on us.

" What do you mean Y/n. I make time for you. " She said.

" Do you really? You don't you have to push me to the side now the only time we ever talk is if you want to tell me something and that is through my schedule. You have to go through your own schedule to see if we can plan something but for me when you need someone to talk to you just go up to me like I have nothing to do. " I yelled out. She looked at me shocked.

" I do make time for you. Church we talk when we go to church. " She said.

" You only go to church when you are required normally you skip out. The last time you went to church was a month ago. The most we ever talked about this entire month was about your crush. But when I have to say something you suddenly have to leave. At this point you probably only talk to me because you pity me. BUT WHEN YOU DO TALK TO ME IT IS ABOUT YOUR BOY CRUSH ON SUNA! " I screamed out in anger. " WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I EVER TOLD YOU ABOUT MY CRUSH A YEAR AGO MAYBE IT WAS TWO YEARS AGO! " I yelled out as I felt tears about to fall.

" I- I- I- LET OUR FRIENDSHIP FADE! It's my fault because your are perfect. Everything about you is perfect I was always in your shadow. I never minded it because we were Best Friends. But you picked someone over me. WE GREW UP TOGETHER! YOU GAVE ME THIS CHARM BECAUSE WE WERE BEST FRIENDS! " I held the charm up by it's clip as she stared at it. I saw how she looked down. " You knew I was always picked last so when you could you would pick me. But I'm High School that all ended the moment you gained popularity. You now were someone who would pick me last. " I spoke out as I could heard people whispering.

" YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND REMEMBER WHEN WE WALKED INTO THIS VERY SCHOOL HANDS TOGETHER PROMISING NOTHING WOULD STOP US FROM BEING BEST FRIENDS! " I yelled out as tears started to fa down my cheek. " I KEPT WITH OUR PROMISES FOR TWO YEARS. TWO YEARS!! I kept our promise of not letting a boy get over us. I kept my crush on Suna down for my best friend. I wanted to see you happy. " I mumbled wiping tears off of my cheek.

" I KEPT IT DOWN FOR YOU. I KEPT SO MUCH DOWN FOR YOU. I ACTED LIKE THE NICKNAME MAEKO'S FRIEND DIDN'T BOTHER ME BUT IT DID INSIDE IT WOULD HURT. I KEPT SO MUCH DOWN FOR YOU BECAUSE I THOUGHT WE WERE BEST FRIEND'S. FOR ONCE I WANTED TO IGNORE REALITY! I wanted to ignore reality, I wanted to ignore my crush for you, I wanted ignore so much because it would help you that was what a best friend should do. But inside the moment you said Kikyo is your Best Friend everything I ignored hit me in the face. " I said as all that I could see was nothing but blurry.

" Y- Y- Y/n " I heard her whisper.

" Maeko let me talk please. All I want to say is that I enjoyed our moments as friends. You noticed my cry for help my cry to be picked for once. "

" PICK ME, PLEASE! "

" I just wish you luck when you ask Suna out. For one last time I'll hold back for an ex friend. Give this to Kikyo your best friend. " I walked over to her and grabbed her hand placing the very charm in her hand. I shut it and looked out into the cafeteria as everyone was shock. I sigh grabbing my hair as I tried covering my face. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the cafeteria.

" When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. " -Paulo Coelho

I sighed holding my knees to my chest as I sat there behind the very gym I fell in love with Suna. I placed my head down on my knees and held my breath letting the tears fall down onto my skirt.

" Pretty brave for the quiet girl. " I heard someone say and I sigh wanting to be alone.

" Can I please be alone whoever you are. " I muttered just wanting privacy.

" I would if it wasn't for the fact you are in my sleeping area. " The person spoke out. I heard shuffling and someone sitting down next to me as they leaned there head on the outside wall of the gym. " Inside there you finally became free. How did it feel? " The person asked.

" The worst ever feeling. I had to end a friendship I thought that would last forever. But there was so much leading me to this moment. I just wish for one thing to work for her for her crush to accept her confession. " I whispered resting my head down on my knees as tears continued to pour down.

" Even after all she did to you, you still wish for that to happen. Hell Suna probably would avoid this whole situation. " The person said chuckling.

" She and I grew up together she always would pick me for things she made me feel wanted. No matter what has happened I still thank her for making me feel wanted for once. Maybe I did ruin her chance with Suna and I wish I didn't cause such a commotion so he would accept her. If he doesn't I probably would hate myself even more than now. " I gulped having my eyes shut.

" Pick me, Please. You say that and yet you let her have your crush. " He chuckled, sighing I shrug.

" He knows who she is. He didn't even know who I was he didn't even remember me sitting next to him in the auditorium the beginning of the year. He noticed her she was sitting next to me, they were a seat apart and he noticed her. So of course she and him probably would be for the best. " I spoke out while trying to hold back anymore tears.

" I guess maybe he wasn't looking for you at the moment in his memory. Suna barely ever wants to put energy into anything the only time he does is if he plays volleyball and there isn't a huge point difference. " The person said sighing.

" It's like you talk for him. I just know that I put Maeko through things I want her to be happy. I'll probably be bothered by everyone because of the commotion. I didn't mean to burst like that I never wanted to. " I spoke out.

" You did. I don't think you understand everything you said there it was the real you. The you that you kept hidden for her. Sure you two were friends and it time for you to move on. Lingering on regret will do nothing but make you want to hide even more. I don't like comforting people in total because it's too much work but for once just get up ask him out. " The person said and I nod.

" You are right but I already told her to go for Suna. It would be mean and I follow with my word. " I spoke out I heard the person groan and suddenly I felt hands on my shoulder I was sat up straight to look at the person but my eyes were shut.

" You are such a mess. Here. " I could hear him opening something and suddenly a soft piece of paper perhaps a tissue being wiped on my face. The hand gently wiped my years away. " To be honest this is not what I normally do for anyone I prefer to sleep but you are here so that ruined my plans. " The person said as I sniffle.

" I'm sorry. " I spoke out. " I can leave for you to sleep. " He sighs and wipes away all of my tears.

" Too late you are here and I feel like I have to do something because maybe I hurt your feelings. I don't like feeling guilty. " The person said. " Now I want you to tell me what you will say to Suna when you walk up to him. " I opened my mouth to say but but he sighs. " No buts now. " He spoke out.

" I uh I uh. Um Suna I know you are busy with Volleyball and school but I was hoping if you and I can um go on one date if you don't like me on the date you can uh avoid me. " I muttered and he sighs. " Was it bad? " I asked and just chuckles.

" You give Rintaro away to escape that's nice I guess. Let's see how would he answer? " He paused. " I have it. Y/n I appreciate you saying that and finally becoming who you really are. But you have to promise me on the date you don't hold back and show the real you instead of being the shadow you used to be. " I sigh.

" Well if he really would accept but what would he say if he would reject me? " I asked. I heard another groan and a pair of lips on me. I open my eyes to see what was happening and saw the one person I was practicing to ask out. I push him away and crawl back. " S-S-Suna I- I- I- kissed y-y-you. No Y-Y-You kissed me. " I stuttered in shock.

" Is it that shocking? Anyway when would you like to go on that date? " He asked and I sat there shocked. " I want to get to know you so when are you free? " He asked and I felt like I was in heaven.

" Um I'm free for the rest of the week. " I spoke out and he hums.

" What? I did what you wanted and what I felt was right. I picked you for who you are. " I opened my mouth. " Don't consider it pity because it isn't I wouldn't waste my time on someone I wouldn't want to waste it with. " I nod and fixed myself. " Meet me at the front of the school on Friday. I have an idea for our date. If you want you can bring a pair of clothes to change into. But I don't mind the school uniform. Here's my number if you don't mind I'm going to take a nap. " He leans back and shuts his eyes. As his hand is out with a paper that had a number. I take it gently and blush.

" I guess this chapter is over. I will be back to read the next chapter after my lunch break. " I get up from the rocking chair. I looked out at the crowd to see paparazzi and people listening as they clapped.

" Ma'am what inspired you to write and Autobiography about your so far life? " A women asked.

" Because I wanted to tell people my life story with Rintaro after all the moment I got engaged I knew I had to dedicate it to my future Husband. " I explained while getting my bag.

" What inspired you to put quotes in certain situations? " I smiled.

" I felt like it would fit in. " I saw Suna and smiled. " I have lunch with someone I will be back in an Hour enjoy. " I wave and head towards Suna in the back.

" I was there when you read our first interaction after the whole commotion part. " He spoke out as we head towards the break room.

" One of the most important parts of my life. How was Volleyball practice? " I asked as he opens the break room.

" The team wanted me to get your autograph. After all you directed one of their favorite horror movie. " I nod.

" I wouldn't mind signing autograph's. " He hums as I kiss his cheek.

" I'm glad I decided to comfort you even if I never gave our relationship an office title. " He explained. I shrug.

" The entire time we were so called dating I thought we were just friends in beginning. At least we'll eventually be husband and wife. " I spoke out. He looks down at me and kisses me as I wrap my arms around.

I listened to this song the most when writing so give some love!

[loudlytransparenttrash]

Have you noticed over the years that the SJW stuff is seeping into STEM?

Wow, that sounds like a right-wing conspiracy theory to me that must be dismissed and never spoken of again. As long as you ignore all the following examples of social justice seeping into STEM, there is no evidence of social justice seeping into STEM. 

In a 82-page training manual titled “A Pathway to Equitable Math Instruction: Dismantling Racism in Mathematics Instruction”, the Oregon Department of Education plans to root out “white supremacy” in mathematics, by not asking students to show their work or placing any emphasis on getting the right answer, which will stop white supremacy from “popping up in the classroom.” The racist implication is that non-white students are incapable of “showing their work” or “getting the right answers,” and so teachers must scrap the academic bar altogether. To fight such white supremacy, math teachers are urged to accept TikTok videos from students instead of math work. The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation fund the training.

Seattle public schools created a framework to protect children from racist and “oppressive mathematical practices.” Included in this report, educators and students will learn, “How important is it to be Right? What is Right? Says Who?“, “Who holds power in a mathematical classroom?“, “Can you recognize and name oppressive mathematical practices in your experience?” “Who is doing the oppression?” “Who does the oppression protect?”, “Explain how math and technology and/or science are connected and how technology and/or science have been and continues to be used to oppress and marginalize people and communities of color.” The Seattle school district also put into place a K-12 curriculum that encourages students “to explore how math has been ‘appropriated’ by Western culture and used in systems of power and oppression.”

The Department of Mathematics and Statistics at Wake Forest University now offers a “racist and anti-racist uses of math and statistics” class because “The time has come for us to focus on fighting racism and making plans to create a more equitable educational space.” In addition to the new anti-racism math class, the math department at Wake Forest has placed a declaration at the top of its webpage that affirms Black Lives Matter, pledges to try and hire more faculty of color and launch microaggression trainings, and organize a math/stats colloquium on social justice.

The University of California now require ‘diversity contributions’ and statements from future math professors. Applicants are asked to write a statement in which they explain how they will advance the university’s diversity plans. “The Division of Physical Sciences has a strong interest in ensuring that all candidates hired have the professional skills, experience, and/or willingness to engage in activities that will advance our campus equity, diversity and inclusion goals.” The purpose of the diversity statement as a method of evaluating a candidate’s “awareness of the barriers that exist for groups historically under-represented”, “past efforts in diversity and outreach activities” and “future plans to enhance equity, diversity, and inclusion in higher education.” One math professor at the University of California, Davis, wrote in opposition to the required “diversity statements,” referring to them as “using a political test as a screen for job applicants.”

The Mathematical Association of America released a statement in which it argued that mathematics contains “human biases” that can only be corrected by promoting critical race theory to math educators and students.

A math education professor at the University of Illinois argues that the teaching of math subjects such as Pythagorean Theorem perpetuates white privilege because they were developed by Europeans. “Mathematics itself operates as whiteness and who is seen as part of the mathematical community is generally viewed as white.” He also argued there’s no such thing as objective truths.

A Math Education professor from Brooklyn College argued that the "trope” of “2+2=4 reeks of white supremacist patriarchy.” It was also promoted by several academics at colleges around the nation, with another suggesting math should be reevaluated because it was primarily developed by white men. He also complains that “meritocracy” in math classes is a “tool of whiteness.” Teachers who claim color-blindness - that is, they claim to not notice the race of their students—are, in effect, oppressing them. “By claiming not to notice, the teacher is saying that she is dismissing one of the most salient features of the child’s identity and that she does not account for it in her curricular planning and instruction.” He recommends that math teachers incorporate more social justice issues into math lessons, but warns that even “teaching for social justice” can be a “tool of whiteness” if teachers are not sufficiently sympathetic to minority students.  

A University of Rhode Island professor claimed that science, statistics and technology are inherently racist “because they are developed by racists living in a racist society, whether they identify as racists or not.” The professor also recently came under scrutiny after condoning an Antifa member killing a Trump supporter last year. After a commenter called him out for his position on his post, he replied “He killed a fascist. I see nothing wrong with it, at least from a moral perspective.”

Duke University has a new computer science course that will focus on race, gender, and class within the world of computing, in order to change the “working environment” of the field. “This course explores the diversity, equity, and inclusion challenges in computing through an introduction to and analysis of various social constructs and their impact on not only computing departments and organizations but also the technologies developed. This course also introduces students to cultural competence in the context of computing.” “We have to change the mindset of a workforce that is overwhelmingly white, Asian and male.”

A group of mathematics professors argued in their published book that math teachers must “live out social justice commitments” to fight privilege in the classroom. Math teachers, “must learn how to advocate for students, self-examine for biases, and strategically subvert the system in which they teach to counteract student oppression,” adding that the development of “political knowledge” is key. “Any amount of connection to issues of equity, diversity, social justice, and power is better than none at all.”

Activists persuaded top science journals to stop work for a day and to validate their claims of “white supremacy” throughout the American science sector. The small group of black academics and scientists demanded that science be “reorganized” for black Americans as they pushed the hashtag #ShutDownSTEM. One of their manifestos demanded that the goal of “justice for black Americans” be prioritized above scientific discovery and objective reality. Another manifesto portrayed all scientists who put science first are racists: “Unless you engage directly with eliminating racism, you are perpetuating it.” In response, two of the leading science publications, Science Magazine and Nature, agreed to not talk about science for a day and instead use their Twitter accounts to post the demands and claims by the radicals.

A physicist at the University of Zaragoza is using cross-dressing drag to “empower” minorities in science and technology fields. In an article on the website, Lady Science, he says drag is still uncommon in scientific fields, because “sexism, racism, ableism and LGBTphobia remain very much alive in academia.”

A recent paper published by a team of various college professors makes the case that STEM courses should be made easier for female students. The researchers argue that “gender” inequities in the STEM majored could be lessened by artificially inflating grades. The study claims that the STEM fields would see an 11.3 percent increase in female students if STEM classes practically erased grading.

A Vanderbilt University professor complained in an academic journal article that the field of mathematics is a “white and heteronormatively masculinized space.” In the article titled Unpacking the Male Superiority Myth and Masculinization of Mathematics at the Intersection, he argues that the apparent “gender gap” in mathematical success is socially constructed. He concludes by expressing a hope that future analyses of gender in mathematics take a more “intersectional” approach, after noticing “intersectional considerations of mathematics achievement and participation shaped by whiteness and sexuality” were left out of many of the studies he reviewed. Intersectionality theory from black feminist thought, he adds, can allow for “more nuanced analyses of gender” and its relation to mathematical performance.

Auburn Drive High School in Canada offers a class in “Africentric” mathematics. It incorporates “discussions about the students’ cultural backgrounds, history and their lived experiences,” all the while teaching them math and associated concepts “through an Africentric lens.”

A scientific journal retracted a professor’s article which criticized hiring based on skin color and sex, leading to apologies from both the journal and the professor’s university. The professor had wrote, “The rise and emphasis on hiring practices that suggest or even mandate equality in terms of absolute numbers of people in specific subgroups is counter-productive if it results in discrimination against the most meritorious candidates.” The journal withdrew the article “amid a backlash” and reassured the professor’s “views do not reflect our values of fairness, trustworthiness and social awareness,” and added they “stand against discrimination, injustices and inequity.”

Two national mathematics organizations are on a mission to prove that math education is “unjust and grounded in a legacy of institutional discrimination.” The National Council of Supervisors of Mathematics and TODOS: Mathematics for All, aim to “ratify social justice as a key priority in the access to, engagement with, and advancement in mathematics education for our country’s youth,” the groups declared in a joint statement, elaborating that “a social justice stance interrogates and challenges the roles power, privilege, and oppression play in the current unjust system of mathematics education and in society as a whole.”

Students at the Claremont McKenna Colleges staged a protest to make it known that objective truth is a ‘white supremacist’ myth devised by “white supremacists” to “attempt to silence oppressed peoples.”

Boston Public Schools have suspended their advanced academic program due to racial ‘equity’ concerns. Acceptance to the program was decided on standardized grade test scores and the successful students would be required “to study in greater depth, with more schoolwork and more home study than the traditional curriculum.” Because 70 percent of students in the program were white and Asian, the program was scrapped. A committee member said she was “very disturbed” by the racial statistics and noted they are “just not acceptable.” The superintendent said “There’s a lot of work we have to do in the district to be antiracist.” Advanced programs for gifted students often are targets either for complete abolition or restructuring due to “incorrect” racial and ethnic demographics.

A recent Washington Post article lamented the fact that biology textbooks contain a disproportionate number of “white men.” “They’re all men. They’re all white, and are written from a very white perspective.”

Cell, a prominent science journal, published a statement accusing their entire discipline of racism. “Science has a racism problem,” they assert, apparently concluding that underrepresentation of a given ethnic group must equate to a deliberate wrongdoing against that group. “Cell stands with our Black readers, reviewers, authors, and colleagues. We are committed to listening to and amplifying their voices, to educating ourselves, and to finding ways that we can help and do better. We alone cannot fix racism.” They go on to list all of the affirmative action changes they can make.

Fordham University’s Political Science department announced it had voted to adopt a new policy that mandates professors must use a student’s “preferred” name and pronouns. The decision was announced just two weeks after student activist groups demanded that the university publicly “resist transphobic rhetoric.” The activist students were inspired to make these demands after reading an article by the New York Times, which reported that the Trump administration had been considering defining sex as “male or female based on immutable biological traits identifiable by or before birth.”

The National Council of Teachers of Mathematics states on its website that “mathematics teachers should “reflect on their own identity, positions, and beliefs in regards to racist and sorting-based mechanisms” and “notice students, learn about the worlds they live in, and build mathematics that comes from these worlds.” They also hold webinars titled “Developing Social Justice Mathematics Activists in Pre-K-Grade 5,” its description states that “mathematics should become a social justice tool that empowers students to mathematically recognize and address oppression they see in their own world.”

Wayne State University, Detroit, dropped math as a graduation requirement and is replacing it with mandatory “Diversity courses.” UCLA also approved a “diversity graduation requirement,” which stipulates that every student in the College of Letters and Sciences take a course about “inequalities based on race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation and religion, among other factors.”

Radical Math is “a resource for educators interested in integrating issues of social and economic justice into their math classes and curriculum.” Radical Math boasts over 700 lesson plans, articles, charts, books, and websites that cover a wide range of socio-political issues from redistribution of wealth to racial profiling.

A professor at the University of California-Davis has vowed to “challenge the authority of Science” by “rewriting knowledge” through a feminist lens. Science, she worries, has “earned its epistemic authority through its co-constitution with colonization and slavery,” and therefore “relies on a colonial and racialized form of power.” Not only is science rooted in racism, she alleges, it has been used to perpetuate racism and colonial practices. “At the root of the justification for social inequality then is Western science,” she says, claiming that science’s distinction between “humans and non-humans” has allowed “capitalism to be justified as a natural economic system.

The New York Times published an article highlighting several academics who say “Earth Science has a whiteness problem.” One of them, from Columbia University’s Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory, said white geoscientists should help increase a “sense of belonging” among non-white groups by “separating their privilege as a white person from their identity as a good person.” Another, who helped create a book club which fellow geoscientists talk about “race and white privilege,” added that earth science classes could be “enriched” by more Native American voices since “Indigenous people have a unique connection to the land.”

University of Wyoming added a diversity course in geosciences meant to address a lack of diversity within the field. The course was the result of a diversity survey conducted by the university in which 67 percent of faculty responded that diversity, equity, and inclusion classes should be required for all students. “The primary goal of the class is to raise awareness that lack of diversity, equity and inclusivity is a problem in our scientific community and in academia in general. The lectures aim to make students think about implicit bias that we often have and don’t recognize and students have the chance to learn from life experiences of scientists from underrepresented groups. The systemic racism that is present in our society also is present in academia. Black, Hispanic, women and LGBTQ scientists are disproportionally underrepresented in the student and faculty population, and students from underrepresented minorities are often the target of microaggressions on campus.”

The National Science Foundation is paying for a multi-million program at Drexel University to help teachers learn how to work social justice into their classrooms. “This project intends to promote social justice teaching, which emphasizes connecting science, mathematics, and engineering instruction to students’ personal experiences and culture. The long-term and far-reaching benefits to society of this project are the potential to document and share sustainable approaches, steeped in the context of social justice.”

The University of Louisville had an opening in its physics and astronomy department, but it ruled out white and Asian applicants. “University of Louisville is an affirmative action, equal opportunity, Americans with disabilities employer, committed to community engagement and diversity, and in that spirit, seeks applications from a broad variety of candidates. The Department of Physics and Astronomy announces a tenure-track assistant professor position that will be filled by an African-American, Hispanic American or a Native American Indian.”

UC Santa Cruz hosted an event called “Research Justice 101: Tools for Feminist Science” where “Participants will be challenged to apply principles and practices of justice to their own work, interrogating questions such as: Who benefits? Who is harmed? Who is most vulnerable? And ultimately, who do we do science for?” The workshop concludes with practical skills and resources for participants to push their research “to be more inclusive, equitable and attentive to social justice.”

A professor at the University of Illinois-Chicago wants others to teach “math for social justice” to help fight the “oppressive status quo” in the United States. He argues that teaching “critical mathematics” isn’t an option for math teachers, but rather a “responsibility to our future.” “We have a responsibility to our future and our planet, to life and all species. What we do in the classroom matters, for today and tomorrow, and the myriad possibilities for resistance and transformation.” “In my work, I argue that K-12 students need to be prepared through their mathematics education to investigate and critique injustice (such as racism and language discrimination) and to challenge, in words and actions, oppressive structures and acts.”

Central Connecticut State University is running a contest, asking students to "express their personal connection to the Black Lives Matter Movement” and reassures students that it’s lowering the racist grammatical standards for the contest. On the website, the school notes “submissions will not be judged on traditional literary or grammatical standards.”

A science education professor at the University of Arizona believes elementary schoolchildren are being taught “heteronormative” and “limited” ideas in science classrooms, and queer theory curricula is the answer. She explores in her lectures how “inviting sexuality into the elementary science classroom” and “queer theory can be useful tools for re-imagining elementary science education and elementary science teacher preparation.”

An academic journal article suggested appointing a “Safety Officer” and rewarding participation in “diversity programming” to combat “gender inequity” at scientific conferences. “Addressing gender inequity should be a primary consideration for all societies hosting conferences, yet many STEM conferences are struggling with gender biases and the understanding that gender inequity also applies to non-binary gender identities and intersectional diversity/overlapping social identities.” They call for the introduction of a gender-based Code of Conduct for all attendees to abide by, appointing a “safety officer” at each scientific conference to make it easier for people to report if they feel they have been subjected to harassment or discrimination, and paying the cost of travel for women who wish to attend the conference.

The director of libraries at MIT argued that tech workplaces need to ditch “Star Trek” posters and other geeky stuff to be more inclusive and welcoming to women. “Replace the Star Trek posters with travel posters, don’t name your projects or your printers or your domains after only male figures from Greek mythology, and just generally avoid geek references and inside nerd jokes. Those kinds of things reinforce the stereotypes about who does tech.” She is a self-described “butch and queer” cis woman and “the work of libraries and librarians is to support feminist research and agendas. She also complained that “A profession that is 88% white means 5000% agony for people of color, no matter how liberal and enlightened you think you are.” She also said we need to have “a f**king reckoning about the pain we cause, and that we need to do some hard work on decolonizing our organizations and our professions.”

PLUS ignore these hundred other examples.

[ncityislove]

The Jury is Out Ch. 3

➳Pairing: Renjun x Reader x Jeno (ft a few other Dreamies)

➳Genre: Angsty fluff but mostly angst lol basically enemies to lovers

➳Word Count:4.6k

Hiiii guys! It’s been over a year since I started this series and this has taught me so many things. Mainly, how much I can not be trusted to start and finish a series lol. The last two chapters will be out soon. I really mean it this time.

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There's an awful pounding in your head from the looming headache you didn't see going away anytime soon. Your over-bearing thoughts being added into the mix is plain unbearable as you wait for your first class to start and your sour mood only worsens when you recall the unfolding of yesterday's events. The strong sense of shame was overwhelming like a dark cloud hanging over your head. How did you get here? Your biggest mistake was letting your guard down to the likes of Renjun. That's where it all went wrong. You try telling yourself you don't need him as a friend. You have Jeno. But you can't silence the desire in your heart to have something more than a partnership. You'd gotten a taste of what's it like to be under the warm rays of his kindness after being on the receiving end of the endless blizzard of the cold reign he had over you and the entire school. That wasn't something you could just forget.

When Renjun arrives, he takes his place right next to you, unpacking his items as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You don't know why he isn't sitting in his usual seat when you didn't have a lab today. You frown but silently remove your bag from the chair next you, nonetheless.

He sits down eagerly, glancing at you a moment longer than socially acceptable. "I like your hair."

Your hands immediately grip the strands.  After the party, you decided to forgoes the ponytail and headband combo that you'd been sporting for so long. "Oh, um, thanks."

Was that a compliment just now?

"Where were you yesterday, by the way?"

"I was sick, so I missed first period," he states, not even missing a beat.

Unbelievable. He's lying straight to your face. You frown distastefully.

"That's not what Chenle had to say."

"Hm? Chenle? He's always pulling pranks—I wouldn't buy anything that comes out of his mouth," he laughs.

You glare at him for a moment. "You didn't get my texts messages?"

He smiles sheepishly. "Oh...sorry about that. I was...um...busy?"

You turn the other way to discretely roll  your eyes. "Are you okay at least?"

"Yeah, never better!"

You shake your head, not wanting to seem like you actually cared despite the fact that deep down you knew you did. It's crazy that all it took was one little afternoon alone together and suddenly Renjun matters to you. All those years of being at each other's throats out the window. Just like that. It was different now. You were more mindful of each other's feelings and it's even gotten to the point where you're receiving compliments. It was a change that you still hadn't adjusted to but maybe it wasn't as lousy as you made it seem. The horrible excuses and lies weren't something you were fond of but it's not like you were friends so you kept that to yourself. You just wished he'd tell you the truth or even hearing that he didn't want to talk about it would've been fine. You didn't see why he had to lie...

You had to remind yourself that you shouldn't be so concerned with Renjun. It was weirding you out that you were thinking about him so much lately. As much as you hated to admit it, you might've maybe felt something for him in that teeny split second after you made up on the field. You never really noticed how funny he was bc you were always the butt of the joke but it turns out he was pretty hilarious. And his voice was so sweet and calming you could probably listen to it forever. But whatever it was—that moment your heart skipped a beat— was gone. It was crazy to even think—there was no way you'd ever say that out loud. Clearly, Renjun would never reciprocate.

If only Haven could see you now.

Renjun turns his body toward you, giving you his full attention. "Are we meeting at the track after school?"

"I have volleyball practice but we can meet after, if you want."

"Yeah, cool," he says, looking pleased.

"Are you sure you're okay though?"

The question had been on your mind since yesterday. Maybe something happened with his dad and he didn't want to say anything. According to Jeno, he didn't talk about that stuff much but you still wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Huh?" he looks at you strange. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure? I mean, you can tell me if you're not." You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.

He snickers, his face glowing with a big smile. "Are you worried about me?"

You scowl to hide your panic. What was happening  to you? "As if," you scoff.

"Aww, you care about me! Who knew the coldest person in the world had a heart?" he pinches your cheek.

You violently slap his hand away and he jerks back.

"Don't!" you point a finger in his face. "touch me. Never again. Got it?"

"Alright," Renjun chuckles lightly. "My bad. Whatever you say."

When class starts, the teacher pulls up her usual PowerPoint and you begin messily jotting down the first slide. She seems to be in a rush as she breezes over every slide, making it difficult to write down everything in time.

Renjun nudges your arm. You look to see him offering you a piece of gum. You reject it, mouthing a  'no thanks' with a polite smile and scramble to write down the rest of the slide. He purses his lips, taking a piece for himself, leisurely writing his notes.

A few minutes later, he nudges your arm again. "You got any led?"

Your nostrils flare as you let out a sigh, pulling out your pencil pouch for him to find the kind of led he needs. You pick your pencil back up to continue your notes.

"Thanks," he whispers. "Hey, did you get that last slide?"

"Oh my god, no, Renjun!" you whisper-shout at him. "How could I have gotten the last slide when you keep distracting me??"

He starts to giggle and it you get even more heated that he found pleasure in this. You're just to about to curse him out in every language known to man when Mrs. Brookes stops her lesson.

"What's going on back there?" she peers down her bi-focals to stare you down. "__, would you like to tell me what the main parts of the brain are?"

"Umm," you hesitate, your eyes scanning over the board. It must I've been on the last slide--which you didn't get the chance to copy thanks to Renjun.

Mrs. Brooks looks at you impatiently and the class turns to look at you as well when you take too long to answer.

"Cerebellum, frontal lobe, parietal lobe, cerebrum, and the thalamus," Renjun answers, ultimately saving your ass.

"Very good! Thank you, Renjun. Now, as I was saying..." Mrs. Brookes turns back to the whiteboard and continues rambling on about the brain.

"I thought you didn't get the last slide?" you whisper.

"Just because I didn't write it down doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention."

You stare at the side of his face in disbelief and you can tell by the way his cheeks were lifted he was smiling.

Renjun sits with you again in third period. You scoot your stuff over, once again saying nothing. This was getting a little too odd. If you weren't friends why did he keep sitting next to you? You weren't friends, were you? You decide not to ask. Sadie seemed like the right person to confide this type of stuff into.     Your desks were too close together which made Renjun's knee touch yours. You wouldn't have noticed any other time but this time in particular it was hard to not to.

"You should sit with me at lunch from now on."

Definitely getting mixed signals here.

"Why?"

"We're partners. It only makes sense, you know?"

"But we've been partners for years," you interject.

He opens his mouth then closes it. "Well, yeah that's true...but you still should. I won't force you to but I'll be really upset if you don't."

"Upset?" you repeat with a tilt of your head. In what universe would he get upset over anything you did that didn't have to do with you scoring higher than him on an assignment? You didn't understand why he was acting so weird today.

"Yeah and if I get upset, I won't be able to focus on the booth." his tone is sad and it tugs at your heart for some reason.

"Well...if that's the case, I'll do it. For the sake of the booth."

He smiles triumphantly. "Right. For the booth."

The kid who usually sits next to you walks over and stands there awkwardly before he finds an empty seat somewhere else. You try not to laugh at how uncomfortable Renjun looks.     Class goes by smoothly this time, Renjun only bugging you every once in a while to compare answers on your worksheet. When the bell rings, you and Renjun walk to lunch together. He's talking to you about the Pythagorean theorem but you keep getting distracted by the odd looks people keep giving you in the hall.     You weren't used to getting this much attention. You're existence was pretty much irrelevant unless something happened with your rivalry and it was usually only gossip worthy if he had done something incredibly embarrassing to you. Renjun, being the top of the class and being friends with almost all the members in the the school sports teams on the other hand, was very popular. You couldn't begin to imagine the confusion you two were causing just by walking to into the cafeteria together. He was always the center of attention and much like Sadie, he was born likeable. It was easy for him to make friends and juggle the delicate balance of having a social life and performing well academically. You were a nobody compared to him and up until now you were fine with that. It was easier to focus on your studies without the distractions from others and what drama friendships with others would bring but you had to admit having someone to walk to lunch with was strangely nice.     Jisung is the first person to see you coming, a look of recognition crossing his face. Chenle was next; he smiles sending you a friendly wave. You say hello, sitting your tray down next to Jeno and Renjun sits on the other side of you.

"Hey, beautiful, what're you doing here?" Jeno asks.

You flush at the pet name. "I think as Renjun's partner, we should take advantage of the free time we have to work together."

"Oh god, you two are so much alike," Haechan groans.

"I think it's cute," Chenle beams.

Jaemin fake gags and everyone bursts into laughter except for you who didn't find it all that funny.

The laughter dies down.

"Will you be spending all of your free time with Renjun?" Jeno asks.

"Of course not," you wrinkle your nose at the silly question.

"In that case, would you like to go out on a date? How's tonight?"

You drop your carton of milk on the table that thankfully you hadn't opened it yet. You must've misheard him. You know the words he said to you and yet, you couldn't believe they were meant for you. Your stammer for words. Any words. But they don't come and the whole table is staring at you in anticipation.

"I...can't. I have practice after school and then I have to work on the booth. I'm sorry."

The boys "ooh" in unison like a bunch of fifth graders.

"It's not like that!" you scramble to fix your words. "We can go another day?"

Jeno's eyes disappear as he gives you the most heartwarming smile. You can't help but smile back at him.

Chenle clears his throat. "What do you think about that, Renjun?"

Renjun's picking at the edge of his foam tray when he shrugs. "I couldn't care less."

Chenle gives him a glare as if he's trying to convey some message to him but Renjun doesn't meet his eyes so he elbows the crap out of him.

"Argh!" he rubs his arm. "Fine. I admit I don't approve."

The table gets quiet. You and Jeno share the same expression of surprise.

Jeno juts out his chin. "Why not? And don't say she's too good for me."

"Renjun clenches his fists. "It'll distract __ from school and I don't think that's what she wants."

Jeno snorts. "It's just one date. I think she'll be fine. And when we do become a couple—which we will, I'll make sure of that—I won't distract from her school work."

"Yeah, but I don't think—"

"Plus, you used to have a girlfriend—what's the difference?"

The atmosphere tenses at the mention of Haven and Jeno looks sorrowful as the boys send him ferocious looks.

"Shit...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"When does practice end?" Renjun changes the subject.

You're still confused as to what's going on. "Who? Me?"

"Yes, you, dummy," he grins.

You ignore the fact that he just called you a dummy. "It ends at four but I can leave early."

"Mind if I come and watch?" Jeno asks.

"Sure!" you get excited at the thought of Jeno watching you play.

"No fair! I wanna come too!" Jisung exclaims.

Jaemin reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. "Absolutely not. You're not going anywhere near those girls, you pervert."

You crack up at the two, unaware of the concerned look Chenle's giving Renjun as he silently scribbles dark circles in his notebook.

-

You arrive to the school gym, hauling the equipment the coach had you fetch. The girls are all huddled in a circle, gossiping most likely. You set up the net and clear the court of the smelly matts that were left behind from a previous class. You could ask for help but you were sure no one wanted to.

You break up their little party after you get another text of instructions from the coach.

"Ladies, coach says she's not coming until the end of practice so we're starting without her. Let's start stretching, okay?"

The girls spread out and begin to warm up and you join them. Everyone's following instructions except for Haven, who's still standing in the same spot.

"Haven," you say in a warning tone.

"Why can't we just hang out until coach gets here? She doesn't have to know."

Her smile is innocent but you know there's nothing innocent about the girl.

Everyone agrees, the room filling with murmurs.

You already sense anger rising in your body. It seems like every time Haven opened her mouth, it was always to go against you. Maybe her and Renjun were the perfect couple after all.

"Guys, c'mon. If we slack off, we'll throw the next game and lose our winning streak."

"No way, skipping one day of practice won't cost us some measly game. You're being a little dramatic, don't 'ya think?"

"Some measly game?" you repeat.

"You don't even care about winning. Haven, you don't care about this team at all—why should any of us listen to you? I am captain of this team, in case you've forgotten."

"Oh god here we go again," she sighs. "That's just a title. That doesn't make you the boss of me."

"Oh, yes it does. I can get your ass kicked off the team with one word. Coach trusts me, all I have to do is say it. Should I have a chat with her when gets here?"

Haven gets as red as a tomato, her lips poking out in an ugly pout. You almost laugh at how childish she is. It was a mystery how people adore her so much when she's got such an ugly attitude.

"Since you all agree with Haven, let's do ten laps. C'mon."

Everyone gives Haven dirty looks as they get up and start their laps.

"Let's go girls, I'd like to get this over with so we can start practice." you clap your hands to speed them up. "And Haven? You get an extra ten laps."

Haven flips you off before she runs off but you don't really care. At least, she was listening to you for once. You hear a door slam upstairs and Jeno struts in, taking a seat at the back of the bleachers. He's smiling as he waves to you, giving you a thumbs up. You can't help but match his smile as you wave back.

When everyone's finished their laps and done their stretches, you split them into two teams. You're opposing Haven's team and boy, do they suck. They're losing embarrassingly bad and you're not even the one who's hitting the ball. One of your best players, Sana, was dragging the other team through the mud. Mina and Momo always made sure the ball got passed to her and when she swung her fists, the ball connected with the ground every time. Haven hated lots of things but you knew most of all, she hated to lose. This was the only reason you haven't kicked her off yet. She wasn't the best player—not even close—but she did like to win. You don't know what made her join the team in the first place but she did and she always tried to win when it really came down to it.

You switch positions on both sides, you serving the ball this time. You throw the ball up high, spreading your fingers apart as you raise your hand and slam your palm against it so hard, there's a loud thud that echoes through the gym. The other team throws themselves to save the ball but their efforts are in vain. The ball is too fast for them. Applause comes from the top right corner of the room and everyone turns to look at Jeno. You pretend you don't notice him, calling the ball back but your flushed face exposes you anyway.

Jeno whoops and cheers every time you scored a point, and let's be real, with the skills you have, that means it happens a lot. You never had someone who wasn't your parents or your coach cheer you on like this and it was something you found you really enjoy. You could get used to this. For a moment you let yourself imagine him attending your future games. Your stomach fills with butterflies and you could almost hear him calling your name when you dive to save the ball.

"Why's Jeno here?" Haven whispers to to one of her friends. "Since when was __ close to Jeno?"

You smirk, waving Jeno over after letting everyone take a short break. The two of you laugh and talk for a bit, ignoring the cold stare Haven's giving you in the distance. She was in a bitchy mood today and you weren't going to let that ruin your time with Jeno. Her witchy attitude has peaked since the first time Renjun invited you to his table. Maybe she was jealous. She probably was still hurting from the break up you assumed but that had nothing to do with you.

-

Jeno walks you to the track field where you find Renjun, who's already gotten a head start. His jacket is thrown over his bookbag and you take notice for the first time how toned his arms are with his sleeves rolled up. He looks up when hears your footsteps, the smile on his face slowly fading when he notices Jeno next to you.

"Oh great. What are you doing here?"

You laugh at his displeased expression. "He's just leaving, calm down."

"Actually," he interjects. "since I'm here, why don't I stay and help out?" Jeno proposes.

"Oh!" you let out an excited squeal you didn't know you were capable of. "That's great idea! Yes!"

"Absolutely not!" Renjun rolls his eyes. "Go home, Jeno. You'll just get in the way."

Jeno juts his bottom lip out and you have to keep yourself from swooning at how adorable he looks.

"Renjunie!" he whines. "I promise not to get in the way. Let me help?"

You give him pleading eyes behind Jeno's back. Renjun looks at you and grunts, muttering something inaudible as he starting hammering away at a slab of wood a little too hard.

"Yes!" Jeno takes off his jacket and gets to work.

"This is a one-time thing," Renjun declares, his back turned to the both of you.

"Right, right, got it," Jeno quickly agrees. "Let me help you with that," he runs over to carry the bucket of paint you were holding.

You watch him lug the heavy object to the table. "Oh, thanks, but I had it."

Renjun rolls his eyes again.

You find him repeatedly trying to get Jeno to go home as you work. Each and every time Jeno would laugh it off, calling him grumpy. You could tell his mood was off but you didn't want to bother him by asking why. He never told you those kinds of things anyway so why go through the trouble of asking? He never laughs when Jeno makes one of his famous jokes and he doesn't look at you when you speak to him. You wish he wouldn't be such a fun killer but he was almost always like this—even at parties, you've come to find out.

When you start to lose daylight, you decide to call it quits for the day.

"I think we can wrap up for now," you beam. "We're nearly finished thanks to Jeno."

Renjun's bag is already slung over his shoulder by the time you finish your sentence. "See ya."

"Yeah...I'll see you," you trail off as he sprints down the field.

"What's his problem?" Jeno asks aloud.

You shrug just as your phone starts to jingle that annoying ringtone you set it to over a year ago. You dig it out of your back pocket and read the caller ID. It's Sadie.

"Hello?'

"Hey! Listen, I'm so, so, sorry, I totally spaced about picking you up after school. I'm out with Jodie right now."

You can't help the displeased noise that comes from you at the sound of Jodie's name. "That's cool, I guess. I can just walk like I usually do."

"Are you sure? We can come and get you in about twenty minutes."

"We?  Yeah, no thanks. I promise, I'll be fine."

"I promised mom and dad I'd pick you--hold on. Jodie, I'm on the phone...what?"

There's whispering then a short silence on the other line and you give Jeno an awkward smile.

"Um, okay, be safe walking. Sorry again! Bye!"

Click.

"So, you're walking home today."

"Yep. My sister conveniently forgot about my existence, so yeah, I'm walking."

Jeno's eyes light up. "Do you live close by? I can walk you home."

Your chest fills with warmth at the gesture. Lee Jeno. You had Lee Jeno offering to take you home. Renjun's bad attitude had left a nasty taste in your mouth but hanging out with Jeno sweetened your day just like that.

Renjun had a way of hurting you in ways no one else could. You didn't know why what he thought of you was so important to you, or why everything he had to say held such a huge weight. He wasn't exactly someone you were very fond of so who cares what he had to say? But Jeno. Jeno always had kind and encouraging words. He was the safe band-aid you needed after being cut by Renjun's blunt words. His razor sharp tongue and eyes for daggers always stung but Jeno protected you. He defended you.

So you say yes to his offer and you make the bold move of linking your elbows which Jeno reacts with a subtle pink tint in his cheeks. Your pace is slow to lengthen the journey, allowing you a chance to get to know each other a bit more.

As time progresses, you realize you had liked Jeno more than you initially thought you did. School had always kept you from exploring your feelings for him. Now, it was clear as ever how you felt about him. You'd turn into a bashful mess at every single flirty comment he'd make, which would only fuel him to flirt harder. He made good company and you wished you hadn't have waited so long to speak to Jeno. You couldn't remember the last time you were this engaged in a conversation with someone--disregarding the one time with Renjun because he's a jerk.

If this is what it's like to have a friend, you had been missing out all these years. He made you feel warm inside like those cheesy rom-coms Sadie loved so much.

His arm was tucked snugly into yours, your steps matching in pace as you neared the street you lived on. You could smell the pleasant fragrance Jeno wore from the close proximity and it brought you back to the night you were drunkenly dancing together. You still couldn't believe you drank alcohol but then again, who lives by a code of conduct in high school? Who was going to punish you for acting your age for once? On second thought your parents would probably ground you for life but that's not the point. The point is you're starting to learn what fun is. If you can't be the best then what's stopping you from enjoying life while you're still young? Looking at Jeno in the stark red haze the sky is dawning on him made you want to do just that. He made you want to live a normal life.

You playfully bump each other, cracking jokes until you reach the driveway of your residence with hesitance. You weren't ready to depart just yet.

"Well," you remove your arm from his. "This is me."

"Aww," he sigh a little. "Well it was nice walking with you."

"Yeah, you too. I'd invite you inside but no one's home and my parents would crucify me if I let you in."

You hadn't realized it but in the few seconds you had looked away, Jeno had gotten closer. Really close. You feel a rapid heat spread all over and you struggle to keep a normal expression.

Jeno smiles before grabbing your elbow to yank you even nearer, his eyes studying yours as he speaks his next words to you carefully.

"Do you wanna kiss me?"

Your mouth goes dry and all you could do is nod, numbly.

He cracks another smile and you were instantly mesmerized by the way his lips curls over his teeth and the thought of how his lips would feel on yours. Your heart stills for a moment. You shut your eyes with baited breath as his lips gets closer to yours.

Slowly, very slowly he kisses you. It was an odd but welcoming feeling, kissing a boy. But you liked it. And you liked Jeno.

Jeno removes himself from you after a few amazing seconds. You're still incredibly close to him and you can tell he's tempted to kiss you again but he holds himself back.

"Text me?"

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you didn't care. The hot temperature of his lips left a lingering impression on you and you had a feeling you won't ever be able to rid yourself of the memory.

He holds up a hand before he jogs off down the pale path of the sidewalk, unintentionally leaving you with a mass of confused and excited thought and a small voice in the back of your brain that wouldn't shut up about Renjun and his recent odd behavior.

[pcfunlab]

Top 10 Contributions of Pythagoras.

01.Mathematics

Pythagoras started the idea of a numerical system, and therefore the beginning of mathematics. To the Pythagoreans, genuine numbers were the most vital thing, and numbers make up the world.

02.Pythagoras’ Theorem

Pythagoras is most famous for his ideas in geometry. He was the first to propose that the square of the hypotenuse (the side of the triangle opposite to the right angle) is equivalent to the sum of the squares of the opposite two sides.Even though this hypothesis was first put forward by the Babylonians, Pythagoras was first to demonstrate it. It is additionally thought that he invented the tetractys, a triangular figure consisting of 10 points arranged in four rows, with one, two, three, and four points in each row. Pythagoras believed that 10 was the ideal number.

03.Pythagoras’ Philosophy

Pythagoras established the mysterious society of the Pythagoreans in southern Italy. The Pythagoreans put forward a hypothesis that stated that everything known to humankind could be clarified with numbers, explicitly entire numbers. This rationale made perfect sense to them, and it is easy to see why. Even today, we use numbers for everything from working out wind speeds in a storm to calculating the speed of a vehicle.

04.Conclusion

Pythagoras made huge contributions in the fields of astronomy, mathematics, philosophy, music and many other areas. He is considered the “father of philosophy,” and this can be seen through his teachings, his theories, and his philosophies. His impact on later philosophers such as Plato cannot be underestimated, and his influence was significant to the point that he could be seen as the most persuasive intellectual of all time.

05.Early Christianity

The historian Eusebius compares Pythagoras to Moses, while Augustine of Hippo (354–430 AD), the early Christian theologian and philosopher, dismissed Pythagoras’ theory of metempsychosis without actually naming him, yet generally communicated profound respect for him. In On the Trinity, Augustine discusses Pythagoras’ modesty in referring to himself as an “admirer of insight” rather than a “sage.”

At around a similar time, Neopythagoreanism started to become more prominent, and the first century Neopythagorean logician Moderatus of Gades was instrumental in developing Pythagorean number philosophy and categorizing the spirit as a “sort of numerical harmony.”

06.Greek Reasoning

Aristotle states that Plato’s reasoning was heavily reliant on the lessons of the Pythagoreans. Plato may also have obtained the idea that mathematical and dynamic ideas are behind logic, science, and morality from Pythagoras. Plato and Pythagoras shared a magical way to deal with the spirit and its place in the material world, and it is likely that both were impacted by Orphism, a set of religious beliefs and practices originating in the ancient Greek world.

07. Religious Lessons

Pythagoras’ religious lessons were based on the principle of metempsychosis, which states that the spirit never dies and is bound to a cycle of reincarnation until it can free itself from this through virtue.

A soul was believed to exist in both animal and vegetable life, even though there is no proof to indicate that Pythagoras thought the spirit could be contained in a plant. It could, however, be contained in the body of a creature, and Pythagoras professed to have heard the voice of a dead companion in the wail of a dog being beaten.

08. Cosmology

Pythagoras was the first person to suggest that the earth was a sphere, but it is not clear what led him to that conclusion. It is possibly connected to his belief that circles were the strongest shape.

His experience of the universe was most likely exceptionally basic: at that time, the earth was still thought to be the focal point of the universe with everything revolving around it. The Pythagorean view of the universe was pretty straightforward and did not take into account any observation of the movements of the planets. They held the belief that the planets all moved in giant circles, and that when they brushed against one another, they made a sound. They believed that these sounds were melodic harmonies, and this music has come to be known as the Music of the Spheres. This music was not audible because it was a constant background noise.

The Pythagoreans also held the belief that the earth, planets, and stars all circled a central flame, and night and day was caused because of this movement. They believed that a “counter earth” existed on the other side of the flame. Since they felt that fire was more important than earth, the focal point of the universe must be fire.

Pythagoras was the first to perceive that Venus at night and Venus toward the beginning of the day were the same planet.

09.Music and Lifestyle

The pursuit of music may have been associated with the love of Apollo. The Pythagoreans believed that music was a purification for the spirit and had a similar effect to that which medicine produced on the body. One of Pythagoras’ stories reports that when he witnessed some inebriated youths attempting to break into a lady’s home, he sang to them, and the young men’s “furious persistence” was silenced.

Pythagoras was the first person to recommend music as a prescription. He connected music to craftsmanship, design, government, raising a family, fellowship, and self-improvement. He thought it was possible to align the souls to their perfect nature, and through music he performed what he called “soul adjustments.” Pythagoras also associated arithmetic with music and believed that music should not be seen as a diversion alone. He believed that music was an outflow of harmonia, the divine rule seeking to banish confusion and conflict in the cosmos. Along these lines, music was seen to have a double function as, like science, it empowered people to see into the structures of nature.

The Pythagoreans also set great store by physical exercise and recommended daily morning walks and sporting activities. Periods of self-examination at the beginning and end of every day were likewise advised.

10.The Public Way of Life

Both Plato and the ancient orator Isocrates suggest that Pythagoras was an advocate for a new way of life. The school, or organization, that Pythagoras established at Croton operated much like a monastery, and its members shared their assets in much the same way. They were also committed to one another to the exclusion of outsiders. One Pythagorean saying was koinà tà phílōn which meant “All things in like manner among friends.”

There were two groups within Pythagoreanism: the mathematikoi (students) and the akousmatikoi (listeners). The akousmatikoi were generally regarded as “old masters” in enchantment, numerology, and religious teachings, while the mathematikoi were recognized as an innovative group which was more progressive, pragmatic, and scientific.

[semperintrepida]

A Cut, Quick and Painless

While Kassandra knew that nothing awaited her in Kyra’s private chamber except for conversation, she’d be damned by the gods if she said she wasn’t hoping for something more. She’d even made a token protest, arguing that discussions of strategy could wait until they’d both recovered from their whirlwind excursion to Delos; but Kyra had dismissed it, saying, “Podarkes will be furious once he finds out we burned his precious weapons, and I want to have a plan in place before he makes his next move.”

Which is how Kassandra found herself sitting at a table in Kyra’s chamber, trying to keep her eyes away from the bed while Kyra used a lamp to light other lamps around the room. As the illumination grew, Kassandra could see that the room was small and roughly circular, with the bed shoved against the stone wall on one side and rough-hewn wooden shelves against the other. The table at which she sat was in the center, and to her left was the hanging cloth that covered the doorway.

The table before her was covered with scrolls. The shelves were stacked with scrolls. Even the bed that Kassandra was trying so decorously to avoid looking at had a scroll peeking out from between its pillows and its brightly colored blankets.

Kyra swept the scrolls from the table and into her arms before she headed for the shelves, but one escaped and fell to the floor at Kassandra’s feet. Kassandra picked it up and read its title. “Antigone.”

Kyra looked over from stacking scrolls into piles. “Surprised to see high art in such a low place?” There was an undercurrent of bitterness beneath those words. Seemed she still expected Kassandra to think the least of her when it came to her skills.

“No. I already know you’re well-educated.” Kassandra handed her the scroll and answered the question already forming on her face. “I don’t get many letters with the word ‘insatiable’ in them.”

“But you understood it.” Kyra placed the scroll with the others, then came and sat across from Kassandra at the table.

“A misthios only needs to know enough to read a bounty and count up the drachmae.”

“And yet: insatiable. Did you learn that word in Sparta too?” She was fishing now, casting her line in search of information.

“My mother taught me to read and write.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned her.”

“Surprised I have one?”

She looked amused at that. “Turnabout is fair play,” she said, to no one in particular. “Perhaps I’m just glad you didn’t spring fully formed from the forehead of Ares.”

“I learned my many skills the hard way.” They traded grins, and Kassandra decided she’d rather trade information than fish for it. “And who taught you how to wield a pen?”

“You don’t know? Not even a guess?”

Kassandra shrugged.

“I learned from mercenaries like you. I was living in the streets. I had nothing. But I realized pretty damn quickly that no one can steal the alphabet from you, so I did whatever I could to get it.” The memory rekindled a determined fire in her eyes. “Letters, words, poems in memory. Then much later, after we found this place, came the scrolls.”

Kyra had rebuilt her life from barren earth, without the head start Kassandra had been given in hers. She looked at Kyra again. The fires were still there in her eyes, hinting at the focus on survival that had consumed her. “You’re far beyond me in such things,” Kassandra said, gesturing at the shelves. “I can’t tell you who wrote that play—”

“Sophokles.”

“—or what the Pythagorean Theorem is about—”

“The relationship between the lengths of the sides of a right triangle.”

Kassandra absorbed that for a moment, then began to laugh. “And you can still hit a target from fifty paces with a bow.”

“Don’t get too down on yourself. You can lift heavy stuff and reach things that are too high for everyone else.”

“And serve as bait for a bear, don’t forget that.” Enough time had passed after yesterday’s excitement that Kassandra could joke about it now.

But instead of smiling, Kyra frowned. “How’s your back?”

Kassandra instinctively twisted around to look at her armor, where the beast’s massive paw had slammed into her and sent her flying across the beach. “A little sore, but tomorrow’s when I’m really going to feel it.”

“That bear was… I’ve never seen a monster like him.” Kyra traced the grain of the tabletop with her finger. “I was actually afraid for a moment there, after I’d gone through half my arrows and he still kept coming after you.”

If that was true, she hadn’t shown it. She’d stood on the broken deck of the beached ship and fired arrow after arrow into the behemoth, seeking the one, vital hit that would bring him down.

“And then he got you with his paw — I thought he was going to kill you.” Her finger drew circles on the woodgrain like a leaf trapped in an eddy.

“He didn’t. And I have you to thank for that.” In hindsight, Kassandra had been overconfident and ill prepared. She should have taken a javelin instead of her sword. She should have scouted the ship from afar instead of running straight for it. She didn’t want to think of what might have happened if Kyra hadn’t been there.

“I just wish we could’ve done something other than kill him.”

“He was a mighty beast. But he did not belong on Delos.”

“Because someone stole him from his home and brought him there! He had no say in the matter.”

“If you believe in the Fates, none of us ever have a say. Everything has been decided for us.”

A long pause. “And is that what you believe, Kassandra?”

“No, I don’t believe my fate is a thread already woven. But there are times when the strand hangs at the mercy of winds outside my control.”

“So if you were a bear, blown onto a strange island by a storm of someone else’s making, what would you do?”

She’d come closer to Kassandra’s truth than she knew. “I’d do exactly what that bear did,” Kassandra said. “Fight until something killed me.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?” Kyra asked, but then she waved the question away before Kassandra could open her mouth. “No, don’t answer that. I shouldn’t pry, though every time you answer one question it makes me want to ask ten more.”

“What would you do if you were that bear?” Kassandra asked. Trading information.

“I’d eat all the smugglers and savor the taste of revenge. And then I’d run to the hills and try to find some peace and quiet.” Her finger stilled on the tabletop. “I may not know what I want to do after Podarkes is gone, but when I dream, I dream of peace.”

“A worthy goal.”

“You think so?” Kyra’s gaze shifted from the table to Kassandra. “Would you ever put down your spear?”

Kassandra considered the question. There were so many people left for her to kill that the idea seemed impossible. “And what would I do? Raise goats?” She rested both hands palm up on the table. “Fighting is all I know.”

“A clever leader wouldn’t need to throw you at the front lines.” Kyra said it like a fact, full of confidence. “They’d ask you questions like this: what will Podarkes do without any spare weapons at hand?”

“He’ll beg Athens for another shipment and double up the guards at all the outposts. But the bigger question is, how long do we have before he starts killing civilians?”

“Knowing his cruelty, not very.”

“Then we should strike him quickly where it’ll hurt him most.”

“Are you saying…” Kyra didn’t finish, instead reaching under the table and pulling a large scroll from a basket. She unrolled it across the table’s surface. “This is Miltiades Fort, where the treasury for the Silver Islands is kept.”

“If we find it and steal it, the soldiers go unpaid, unfed, and unarmed.”

“Leaving Podarkes all alone with no one to defend him.” Kyra smiled. “I like this plan. I’ll have Praxos gather the troops.”

“Wait. It’s best if it’s just you and I. Save your fighters for when we attack Podarkes directly.”

“And here I was hoping you just wanted me all to yourself.”

Kassandra didn’t move, despite her accelerating heartbeat, despite her stomach becoming a bottomless cavern. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to rein herself in would have been too obvious. “I do,” she said eventually, carefully. “I want you up on the ramparts of Miltiades Fort—” ignoring the upward creep of Kyra’s brows “—because I can’t pull this heist off without you.”

“It’s so good to be desired,” Kyra said. “Now, what do you need me to do?”

“I need you to find us some sulfur, false-silver, and quicklime.” Ingredients for a dirty mercenary trick that would make it possible for the two of them to take on an entire fort.

“Oh, is that all?”

“I’m just getting started,” Kassandra said with a smile. “How do you feel about heights?”

.oOo.

Together they’d come up with a plan, and when the flaming tongues of the lamps around them began to sputter, starved of oil, Kassandra realized she’d lost all sense of time. It hadn’t seemed that long, sitting there side by side, Kassandra feeling the heat from Kyra’s leg against her own as they pored over the map and discussed how they’d spirit away the treasury without anyone raising an alarm.

“So it’s settled, then.” Kyra patted the map with her palm, then stood and stretched before she wandered across the room and began refilling the lamps with a small jug of oil.

Kassandra heard footsteps outside the chamber, and Kyra must have also, for she paused between pours, the graceful line of her arm caught in silhouette against the wall. Kassandra tilted her ear towards the doorway, heard the soft clink of armor, and wasn’t surprised when the cloth swept aside to reveal Thaletas.

“I’m glad you're—” He stopped abruptly, looking at Kassandra. “Ah, misthios. Taking a break from causing mayhem?”

“Podarkes won’t execute himself.”

Kyra turned, lifting her chin towards him. “I thought you were waiting on the beach,” she said coolly.

Kassandra didn’t wait for him to answer, and she pushed her seat back from the table and stood. “It’s about time I got going.”

He held up a hand. “Before you leave, Kassandra, there’s a matter I could use your help with — no, not now. Come find me at my camp.”

She nodded very well to him and farewell to Kyra, then walked out of the chamber, and as she heard the faint murmur of their voices beginning to intermingle, she cursed herself for wishing she could listen in on the conversation she’d left behind.

.oOo.

Miltiades Fort squatted above dark, wind-swept cliffs, hunched over like an old guardsman sitting with his back to the sea. Moonlight sheened the rocks with silver, and the air was warm and heavy with the smell of saltwater and smoke. Kassandra jammed her hand inside a crevice in the rocks and canted her body out over empty space, smiling into a breeze that carried with it the distant sound of waves pounding the stones far below. She drank the air in like wine. It was a fine evening for thievery.

But the feeling faded the moment Kyra came into view below her, washed out by a vague unease that grew the longer she watched Kyra ascend. She turned back to the cliff face, adjusted the bundle slung on her back, and resumed climbing, taking extra care not to knock any stones loose with Kyra down below.

The moon was bright and the handholds plentiful, and when she reached the top, she carefully lifted herself past the edge. It wouldn’t do to spill the precious cargo she carried. Along with the bundle, she had her spear, slung in its sheath on a leather shoulder harness she wore over her chiton. No armor. Trading protection for silence and ease of movement had been a deliberate choice — taking on an entire fort’s worth of soldiers in combat was not part of their plan.

She’d lifted herself onto a narrow shelf of rock, a false top to the cliff. To reach the fort, they’d have to clamber over a chest-high lip of more rock, then cross a strip of grass dotted with bushes and wind-stunted trees. They’d be able to stay out of sight of the guards as long as they kept their heads down. On this side, closest to the cliffs, the fort was less a set of walls than a collection of collapsing ruins. With any luck, Podarkes’s lack of spending on upkeep would mean more silver in the treasury.

A short while later, Kyra’s head popped up at the edge, and Kassandra held out a hand and helped Kyra climb up next to her. They crouched there, looking at each other, Kyra’s skin glistening with sweat as she caught her breath, her eyes and hair gleaming silver with Artemis’s gift of moonlight.

Kassandra felt a faint tremor pass through Kyra’s hand, and as it disappeared into warmth and stillness where their skin touched, a matching warmth bloomed deep in her belly. Then Kassandra looked away, looked up at the fort, and reluctantly let Kyra’s hand go.

At their feet, only the bravest of grasses and wildflowers scratched out a living on the exposed stone. Kyra knelt among the tufts and tiny blossoms, untied the bundle slung across her shoulder, set it down carefully, and muttered, “Glad to be done with that climb.”

“I thought you said you weren’t afraid of heights,” Kassandra said, her voice just above a whisper. She untied her own bundle and placed it next to Kyra’s.

“I said that if we had to climb, I would do it. Didn’t mean I’d enjoy it.” Kyra opened her bundle and began pulling out its contents: shawls made from dun-colored fabric, and a few soft-sided flasks sewn from leather. “Of course you turned out to be part mountain goat.” She handed Kassandra one of the shawls. “I guess climbing’s easy when you know a fall won’t kill you.”

“How do you—”

“Did you actually think I didn’t see you jump from the top of the Temple of Artemis the other day?”

They’d had a conversation right after, and Kyra hadn’t given a single sign that she’d just witnessed Kassandra do the impossible. It took skill to hide something like that so deeply. It reminded Kassandra of another woman with the same skill, Aspasia. To convince someone in this house, even your eyes must tell a lie.

“I thought you were going to kill yourself,” Kyra said, “and then you jumped and it… didn’t.” She sat back on her haunches. “I’m just glad I hired you before Podarkes offered you the contract on my head.”

“I wouldn’t have taken it.”

“Are you sure, misthios?” She waited a beat. “Oh, don’t look so serious. I was raised by your kind, remember?”

Kassandra tried to ignore the pang that shot across her chest, and she realized she was twisting the shawl in her hands. Kyra’s image of her was incomplete, but even a fragment still held some truth in it. She couldn’t deny that she’d taken plenty of contracts from vile people.

Kyra’s dark eyes were studying her intently. “Maybe one day you’ll tell me what you need all that drachmae for.”

Now wasn’t the time, and Kassandra didn’t answer. Instead, she flipped the shawl over her shoulder and opened her own bundle, adding the flasks she’d brought with her to Kyra’s collection and sorting them into groups. Four flasks held a mixture of powdered sulfur and false-silver, four held quicklime, and the last flask was filled with water.

Kyra’s eyes never left her. “You look different without armor.”

“Oh?”

“I won’t say you look softer, because you might get offended.”

“But you just… did?”

Kyra grinned. “Are you offended?”

“No.”

“Good.” Kyra reached up and gathered her hair, pulling it off her shoulders and tying it into a loose knot. It exposed the lines of her neck, the hollow under her jaw curving up to her ear…

Kassandra’s mouth went dry.

Kyra pulled a shawl around her shoulders. “How do I look?” she asked.

Beautiful, Kassandra wanted to say, but what came out of her mouth was, “You fit the part.” With her plain, rough-spun chiton and lack of jewelry, Kyra could pass as a servant. She had to pass as a servant, for all their hopes rested on her ability to travel the fort unnoticed.

Kyra collected all the flasks into one large bundle. “I’m ready.”

Kassandra lifted herself up enough to look over the edge. To the left, a guard walked the closest wall, headed away from them. To the far right, two more guards watched the side of the hill that sloped gently down from the fort. Kyra wouldn’t even come close to their sightlines. The path was clear.

Kassandra’s heart squeezed within her chest, cranked tight, as if it were a heavy load being hoisted at the docks, something pulling its ropes, pulling it in perfect tension. “Kyra,” she said. “Stay safe.”

A nod. Kyra’s warmth brushing past and fading quickly. An indentation in the grass where she’d been. Kassandra peered over the edge, intending to watch Kyra pass inside the ruined walls, but what she saw was a transformation: Kyra’s shoulders drooping inwards, her confident gait slowing, her steps dragging. By the time she disappeared between broken heaps of stone, she’d become exactly what anyone in the fort expected to see, another servant girl struggling under the weight of a heavy load.

Still, Kassandra was uneasy. The tightness remained in her chest, a foreign feeling, especially now in the middle of a job, where she expected her heart to beat as steadily as the oarmaster’s drum on a trireme and her breath to come and go as smoothly as the sweep of its oars.

She had asked Kyra to do so much. It was Kyra who would locate the treasury, Kyra who would set the distractions, all because there was no way Kassandra could pass as the kind of servant this job required, the ones who existed in the background, seeing everything, ever present but utterly anonymous. And Kyra would have to do it alone and unarmed, surrounded by a fort full of soldiers.

Kyra had jumped at the chance, despite all the dangers. I said that if we had to climb, I would do it.

Suddenly, Kassandra knew why she was uneasy; why her heart felt tight in her chest; why this feeling felt so foreign. She was afraid. Not for herself, but for Kyra. She could count on one hand the number of times she had truly been afraid in her life, and now her fears had somehow become entwined with this woman she was just beginning to know. The realization made her rock back on her heels.

And now, all she could do was sit in the company of this discovery, and wait.

.oOo.

A quarter hour. A half hour.

The always-turning wagon plodded in the sky overhead.

Three quarters of an hour.

Silence from the fort, and no sign of Kyra.

An hour. More.

Kassandra could deviate from the plan. She could sneak past the guards. She could get inside the walls. She could find—

A rustle of leaves. Grass parted by footsteps. She reached back and wrapped her fingers around the handle of her spear, just in case, but then Kyra was lowering herself gracefully into place beside her.

“Done and done,” Kyra said, with a satisfied smile.

Kassandra’s heart beat freely again.

“I don’t know how long we have before the quicklime ignites. I tried to measure the water out, but— Are you all right?”

Kassandra didn’t answer that question, but another. “It’ll be soon.” Then the sulfur and false-silver would start to burn, producing thick smoke and choking gas and, eventually, fire. “Where’s the treasury?”

Kyra motioned Kassandra beside her, and together they looked at the fort. She pointed to the wall to their left. “That wall. Follow it until it turns a corner to the right. Keep going until it ends at a staircase. The building above you will have the treasury on the second floor.”

“Where will you meet me?”

“At the northeast corner.”

Kassandra adjusted the shawl over her shoulders, making sure it covered her spear. She just needed to be convincing enough to look like a servant from a distance. “Let’s go.”

“Kassandra, wait.” Kyra put her hand on Kassandra’s forearm. “If things look bad, get out of there.”

“You got us this far. I’ll not waste it.”

“No.” Kyra’s fingers dug into her arm. “This drachmae isn’t worth your life.”

She wasn’t going to let the matter drop until Kassandra gave her what she wanted. “Very well.”

Kyra released her grip, and Kassandra lifted herself up and over the edge.

“Look,” Kyra said, pointing towards the fort. There was a plume of stark white smoke to the southwest, and the sound of far-off shouting.

Kassandra looked at Kyra, smiling faintly. “See you soon,” she said, and then she crouched and moved away, through the tall grass and past the trees and bushes. No guards in sight. The shouting was louder now, and there was more of it, and the white column of smoke was sullied by dark streaks — a sign that the fire had grown beyond the powders Kyra had planted and into flammables like wood.

She moved to the wall Kyra had shown her. At this end, it had collapsed into a rough series of steps. She climbed swiftly, and when she reached the top, she was rewarded with the sight of the watchtower on the far side of the fort being attacked by flames.

She picked up her pace, not even bothering to crouch. The wall turned hard to the right, and brought her across the top of the fort’s entrance. She looked down into the courtyard and saw the stables, the horses and wagons, the servants trying to flee and the soldiers trying to stop them. That’s where Kyra was headed, where she’d wait for a chance to steal a wagon.

The wall ended just as Kyra had said it would, at a set of stairs to the left with a large building looming overhead, framed by a second plume of smoke billowing into the sky. She couldn’t tell if the treasury building was on fire, or one of its neighbors.

“Hey! You!” A soldier’s voice, far to her right.

She pretended not to hear him, turned, and hurried up the steps. They brought her to the fort’s upper level, a labyrinth of rooftops and wooden walkways between buildings. Dirty grey smoke hung in the air, acrid and heavy with sulfur, and orange tongues of fire licked out the windows of the building next to the treasury. She ran towards the fire while everyone else was running to get down below, where she could see soldiers and servants crowding the paths. Some carried buckets of water while others milled about in confusion and fear.

The walkway dumped her into the third floor of the treasury, where the smoke wasn’t yet as thick as it was outside. She threw off her shawl, drew her spear, and looked for the way down to the floor below.

She found the hatchway and ladder in the far corner, a portal down into an orange-tinted haze. She couldn’t risk sticking her head through to take a look, so she listened instead and heard movement. A cough. Footsteps. But the noise from the chaos outside was too great for her to be certain of numbers. If she dropped through, she could be facing one soldier — or ten.

She dropped through.

Three. No, four. There were four, and she launched herself at the first, braced her forearm against his chestplate and pushed him back as she stabbed him in the gut with her spear. Everything slowed down, Chronos smiling upon her as he always did in a fight. She grabbed the man in her hands by his armor, spun him around, and hurled him into the next soldier, one who stood there holding a torch. Both went sprawling. The torch flew to the floor, and the room and its smoky haze darkened within its diminished light.

She caught the third man before he’d even finished drawing his sword, whipped her elbow up through his jaw, turned and slid past the thrusting sword of the last soldier, took the arm it belonged to and pulled the body off-balance so she could drive her knee into a groin. Another kick sent him straight into the wall. His body slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Footsteps slapped on wooden planks, a soldier running away, scrabbling up the ladder and out of sight. Then nothing moved, except the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

The treasury awaited, a heavy wooden box banded with iron. She lifted its lid, reached in, and pulled out a heavy bag, untying it and looking inside just to be sure. Drachmae. Four bags in total, containing thousands of coins.

This was going to be one Hades of a load, and she didn’t want to make the trip more than once. The smoke was growing thicker every moment she delayed. She glanced around and spotted a set of scales resting in a bronze tray on a nearby table. She swept the scales aside and took the tray, then picked up two of the bags and headed for the ladder. Climbed high enough to toss them up to the next floor, followed by the tray. Then back down for the last two.

She piled everything onto the tray, squatted and lifted, the muscles in her arms and back and legs pulling tight as anchorlines as they held the weight.

She emerged into heat and smoke so thick she could only see a few paces in front of her. The building next door was a pyre, the lower floors engulfed with flame, and it was only a matter of time before it spread to the rooftops, devouring everything in its path and leaving only scorched stone behind. Its light helped her find her bearings, and she turned to the right, taking lumbering steps across the walkway to the top of the fort’s stone walls, heading to the northeast.

By the time she reached the agreed-upon corner, the smoke had thinned, and she looked over the side of the wall and saw Kyra sitting on the seat of a small wagon, its bed filled with a load of hay. Kassandra whistled a greeting, then began pitching the bags over the side, each one landing in the wagon with a loud bang. Behind her, she heard shouting from somewhere in the smoke. It was time to go.

She swung herself over the side and began climbing down, but at the half-way point she pushed away from the wall and leapt down to the ground. She popped up next to the wagon. From here, she could see the fort’s entrance, and a line of soldiers trying to hold a large crowd of servants back from fleeing.

“None of that blood better be yours,” Kyra said, taking up the reins as Kassandra climbed into the seat beside her. “Ela!”

The wagon lurched into motion.

“It’s not. But it could complicate things if we run into any soldiers.” And there would be soldiers, for she knew that if she turned around, she would see the fort wearing a wreath of fire. Every Athenian camp on Mykonos would know that the fort burned soon enough.

Kyra drove the horses at a steady, unhurried pace. Galloping off at speed would only attract attention. “What do you want to do, then?” she asked.

“Take us to those trees.” Kassandra pointed to a small copse of pines by the road at the foot of the hill.

They drove on in silence.

Then they heard hoofbeats behind them, gaining fast. Men shouting “Make way! Clear the road!” Would they notice the spear on her back? Notice the blood on her hands and chiton?

Kassandra’s fingers twitched, but she kept her hands at her sides and didn’t turn around. Her seat rocked gently as Kyra slowed the horses and pulled the wagon to the side of the road, and moments later, two soldiers on horseback blew past them. Probably off to tell Podarkes the bad news. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

A short while later, Kyra brought the wagon to a halt just outside the stand of trees. Kassandra hopped off the seat. “Meet me at the overlook outside the Temple of Artemis.”

Kyra nodded. “Don’t take too long,” she said. Then she lifted the reins and drove off, headed for the drop-off point where she’d hand the wagon over to a small group of waiting rebels while a few others secured the loot and brought it back to the hideout.

Kassandra stood by the road for several moments, listening to the sound of the wagon’s wheels crunching on the dirt, then she turned, stepped into the trees, and began to run.

.oOo.

Kassandra found Kyra waiting for her at the overlook. She’d cleaned up and changed clothes, just as Kassandra had, and she stood still and quiet in the moonlight, seeming more a carving of ivory than a living being. But at Kassandra’s approach, she turned and was alive again, her eyes gleaming, her lips curving into a smile.

“The treasury is ours,” she said. “Praxos is guarding it personally.”

“How much drachmae was there?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “A lot. But I’ll count it later.” Her eyes settled on Kassandra. “I imagine you’ll be wanting your cut soon enough.”

“I’m in no hurry.” The words slid out before Kassandra had even thought them through. She was supposed to be in a hurry. She was supposed to be searching for her mother, supposed to be hunting down the Cult. All those supposed tos had kept her busy, and busy kept her from facing a truth about her nature that she hadn’t yet figured out how to handle: she was so very good at killing people because she enjoyed it, and she enjoyed it so much she was beginning to crave it. That is, until she’d arrived on Mykonos.

Now she killed without feeling anything at all, and she needed to know why, even if the implications scared her enough that she could no longer say she could count the number of times she’d felt fear in her life on one hand. Now she needed two…

“Chaire, Kassandra.” Kyra’s hand was waving in front of her eyes. “Should I be worried by that look on your face?”

“No. It’s nothing. What matters is that we took Podarkes’s treasury from him, and once the people here realize he’s lost every coin, they’re going to rip him to pieces.”

“He’ll never recover from this,” Kyra said. The realization of what they’d done hit her then, pouring into her like the fabled nectar of the gods, filling her with strength and possibility. She glowed with it, shimmered in the moonlight. Artemis’s favorite.

Kassandra stayed silent, letting Kyra enjoy the moment.

“I burned that fort to the ground.” Her smile was brilliant.

“You did.”

“Surely even Athens will want to be rid of him now. I’m so happy, I could kiss you.”

Kassandra knew Kyra was exaggerating, that she’d said it without meaning it. But Kassandra had never shied away from asking for what she wanted, and Kyra had set her up with a gift on a silver platter. “I don’t see anything holding you back,” she said, holding out her arms to gesture around them. “Hades could take us both tomorrow.”

Kyra’s smile faded. “You breathe life into me,” she said, and Kassandra instantly knew what was coming next: But… She looked away, unwilling to meet Kassandra’s eyes. “If only you’d come here before Thaletas.”

Kassandra had read the situation correctly, but it still hit her like a punch to the heart. And now she had to say something. She considered her words, ran them through her head, and found it easier to play dumb. “You and Thaletas? I didn’t realize.”

“He’s stubborn, arrogant, and hot-headed.” That could describe nearly every Spartan, Kassandra included. “We don’t always agree. But behind all the bronze and brawn, there’s a good man I could see by my side when this is all over. If we survive.”

So Kyra loved him after all. Kassandra would retreat gracefully, then. “The two of you fighting Athenians on the beach sounds romantic. I’d hate to interfere.” But why did it feel like her chest was being crushed in the jaws of some great beast?

Kyra’s face was unreadable, but then she leaned forward, closer and closer, and then Kyra’s hands gently grasped her arms, and Kyra’s breath brushed her ear, and Kyra’s lips touched her cheek.

The kiss lasted just a moment, and like a cut from a sharp knife it had been quick and painless, but what damage it had left behind: gods, she wanted Kyra. It was a terrible, terrible thing, to want someone this much while knowing she couldn’t have them. Another feeling as foreign to her as fear.

Kyra studied her at arm’s length. “Would you even recognize me in the Underworld, I wonder.”

“You introduced yourself by throwing a dagger at my head. You’ll be damn hard to forget.” She smiled, made it look open and affable. No hard feelings here. She’d cope with the bruising longing on her own. She had to.

Kyra stepped back, letting Kassandra go. “I’ve never properly thanked you for coming here. You’ve brought me hope where there was none.”

“Glad to be of service.” Thanks and drachmae would be her consolation prize.

“Come with me to the hideout? I’m sure someone’s cracked open the wine by now.”

She was tempted, bruises and all. She was. “Sounds fun, but I really ought to get back to the Adrestia.” Where she had a bunk and her own stash of wine, as much as she hated drinking alone.

Kyra didn’t push it, a small mercy that Kassandra appreciated as they traded good nights. Then she watched Kyra walk away, Kyra with moonlight in her eyes, moonlight in her hair, walking up the path, disappearing into darkness; and then Kassandra turned, stared out over a city oblivious with slumber, and let her go.

Part of the Elegiad. Go back to the previous story, or on to the next...

[spencescurls]

Informative

Spencer Reid one shot:

Having an early morning at the BAU meant listening to music on the way into the office. Personally, you wouldn’t but you had run out of coffee filters at home so making your morning juice was out of the picture and you had to wake up somehow.

Listening to music was your second resort to waking up but it had to be the wake up playlist, consisting of artists like The Jonas Brothers, Ariana Grande, NSYNC and Harry Styles. Newer music were your favorite.

Garcia had texted the group that we had a case early in the morning, letting us know to get to the station as early as we could. No morning jams in the shower.

Nodding your head to the beat of ‘Sucker’ by The Jonas Brothers, you brushed arms with your lanky coworker who didn’t seem super awake either. Reid didn’t happen to notice he ran into you since there were two had earbuds in his ears, but seemed to be listening to something a lot more calm than you. A podcast maybe? Or a debate on how the world is round.

Who knows anymore with Dr. Spencer Reid.

His wet curls were covering his emerald green eyes which made you smile slightly. Seems like you weren’t the only one who was in a rush this morning. Heading to the small kitchen, you pulled out two mugs, one with the BAU logo and the other was a mug painted by JJ’s son Henry, it was a small hand turkey. Too cute right?

After filling the mugs with coffee, you made your way to the briefing office and nudged your friend’s side, making him jump slightly. He never really was good with personal affection. Your lips curled into a smile as you held out the cup of coffee towards the gentleman in front of you.

Accepting the coffee, the two of you took out your earbuds and placed two of the same color-silver- ipod nanos on the table, not really noticing whose was whose at the time.

It was time for briefing on the case. Garcia warned us it wasn’t going to be an easy case.

The case was rather gruesome to anyone on the team or not. The unsub was kidnapping brown haired women in their mid-thirties with green eyes. Whoever the unsub was, they were smart and had skills beyond a normal human being. They left the women on the streets, dressed up like dolls, with facial changes. It was disturbing really. Their mouths sewn into a smile.

After the briefing, the two friends picked up their ipods and headed out to take on the case. Throughout the day, the team struggled to come up with ideas on how to catch the unsub. Prentiss sent the team home home to get some sleep and to clear their heads.

Spencer Reid walked outside the office, after making sure had everything he had brought with him this morning, his over the shoulder bag, binders filled with cases similar to the one the team was currently stuck on, his tie loosened but still around the slightly hunched over doctor. His ipod slipped into his slim pants pocket.

On the way home, Reid found himself tapping his fingers along to the beat of the song on the steering wheel. It was very unfamiliar to him but at this current moment he didn’t mind. It was something new, and different than the usual podcasts.

He was in his own head, trying to figure out how to set a trap for the unsub..but there had to have been a piece of the puzzle missing. He’d come up with many ideas but something wasn’t adding up.

At the end of the his ride, the tired curly haired boy found himself humming the tune. Reid must have played the song five times before he arrived home trying to figure out the artist or at least the title before finally giving in and checking what he thought was his ipod.

‘Only Angel’ by Harry Styles

-The Next Morning-

On the way into the BAU you turned on your music, sticking the earbuds into your ears. It took a awhile before you realized music wasn’t playing… it was a very very (*YAWN*) very boring podcast on how the Pythagorean theorem became a big deal in colleges and how important it was for every student to know that A squared plus B squared equals C squared. It was the most important tool in Mathematics minus Geometry.

Okay, this can’t be your ipod. It has to be Reid’s. That's the only person who’d listen to this type of stuff. Oh God, what is he listening on my ipod?

After walking into the building, you walked up to Reid, pulling an earbud out of his ear. The doctor was singing. Singing what you ask?

“Spence? What-oh my gosh. What on earth are you singing?” You asked before you heard the lyrics.

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Your mouth fell open at the words that just came out of your coworker, your extremely innocent friend’s mouth. “So you found your time with my ipod interesting, I take?” You asked letting out a short laugh.

Reid’s face turned red as he tried to hide the fact that he had been singing a very provocative, hell for singing even in public. “So that’s whose music taste I’ve been listening to... explains a lot.”

You held your hand up in defense but were at a loss for words. “Says the one who listens to Math podcasts!” You fire back rather quickly.

“It’s informative! It’s helped me figure out how to use Math in the workforce.” The boy replies, pulling his lip between his teeth. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest as he straightened his back, showing the very big height difference.

“Whatever you say, Doctor.” You tease, rolling your eyes as you toss his ipod at him hoping he would catch it. To your luck he did, but barely.

“You’re such an angel for letting me borrow your ipod, (Y/N).” Reid said, handing you the ipod back, giving you a slight smirk.

[procrastinationissensation-blog]

“I am a grade 12 student who has just recently graduated. You might call me accomplished, and in a way, i am, but not in the way you’d think. 12 years of pouring over text books and being lined up to be judged in front of my peers has not made me any more intelligent. I can tell you the first 45 digits of Pi and I can explain to you the difference between an acid and a base, I can recite the Pythagorean Theorem in my sleep, I will recite lines out of a textbook like they are a religion. But I cannot tell you the value of security, or of kindness. The distinct contrast between personal health and personal gain. I can tell you in grade 12 for of my classmates attempted to take their own lives before finals. I can tell you our counsellors office was always booked. I can tell you how when I didn’t understand something in AP Chemistry my teacher asked me to leave if I could not participate in the class. I merely asked him to explain a question. Instead of doing his job and teaching, he told me to leave. Told me I was not good enough to be there. Mistakes are viewed as failure in these hallways. A wrong answer is a sin you must atone to, not a human error, but a flaw so grand it defines your entire life course. There is no “average” here. We all must exceed expectations. Do your parents know that a grade that is considered average is a “C”? When I got a C in fourth grade my parents grounded me for a month. They said I was lazy and stupid an incompetent and that I’d better smarten up and stop fooling around. I never fooled around I am driven by a deep need to impress others. I never fool around. I worked and worked, with a deep hollow of anxiety in my chest. I have never been good at History, but I worked and worked and I attained at best a low B. It was not good enough. It is not said but we are expected to put our education before our personal health. It is not asked of us,but it is what we must to to achieve what we are asked to achieve. Our teachers will tell you “Oh, I only give them one hour of homework each night.” Which is essentially true, each of my five teachers only gives me one to two hours of homework each nigh. Hmm, that adds up to 5-10 hours of homework, and overdue classwork, and projects. Say goodbye to sleep, say goodbye to feeling calm. I’ve developed a deep rooted anxiety disorder due to school and perfectionist tendencies. Even when you get 100 percent on an assignment they still criticise you, it is never good enough. One slip, and you are in deep deep trouble. I can tell you that 90 percent of us try our hardest, and our teachers and parents stand in the sidelines screaming, ‘You can do better than that!’”

- Why I say our education system is flawed (perfect-delusions)

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Nerd 6

Previously on Nerd 

November was all yellows, golds, browns, and auburns.

The entire world was colorful and alive, busy with one final show before the inevitable setting in of winter. Throughout the town, preparations were made for football championships and harvest festivals, while everyone avoided even mentioning that the holidays were right around the corner. It was a time of routines and predictability, of change and finishing.

School spread around the legend of the head cheerleader who tore apart the quarterback to defend the honor of the movie nerd from AP calculus. It was the talk of the week, and it changed things, in a way. People looked at the two of them differently, but only Clarke picked up on it. Still shamefully unaware, Lexa stole her moments that were given to her, and she didn’t ask for more, but rather savored.

Any day though, Lexa thought as she sat at her table and twirled a pen around her fingers. Any day now, she was going to ask Clarke on a date, an honest to goodness, full on, I-like-you kind of date. They’d already kissed. Clarke must like her. She kind of already agreed to a date before, in the grand kind of way. In the, yeah sure maybe one day, kind of way.

The thoughts weren’t convinced, and Lexa couldn’t get over the butterflies as a cheerleader tossed her a wink and smile from behind the counter at the diner.

“So what’s going on with that?” Gus asked, totally nonchalant and not at all eager to hear about Lexa’s weird love life.

His tutor simply shrugged and bit at the straw of her Cherry Coke after taking a sip and purposefully looking back at her notes scattered on the table.

“Where were we? Pythagorean Theorem?”

“You have to just ask her out. This has been going on for two months already.”

There’d been a plan for a date, a hypothetical that got deterred by something coming up at home for Clarke. And she honestly did sound sorry for it, even being extra sweet to Lexa when she had to cancel. Lexa promised that it was alright, though things felt different after it. And now she was as messed up as ever.

“Let’s study. You have midterms next week.”

“I’ll study when you ask her out.”

“This isn’t a debate,” she sighed. “You pay me to help you.”

“Just go do it. Real quick,” he smiled, nudging his head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Trust me. I don’t know trig, but I know ladies.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, Lex. You are already--”

“Hey, how are you guys doing over here?” a sugary sweet, customer service voice interrupted.

Lexa had all but memorized the way Clarke’s uniform shirt clung to her body. She couldn’t help it. It followed her home and crawled in bed with her, keeping her awake with all of those thoughts. But as Clarke crouched down beside the table, Lexa was intimately aware of the curves once again, and eagerly drank most of her drink in a single slurp.

“Great. Fine. Awesome. Never better,” Lexa rushed. “How are you?”

Clarke gave her a look and smiled, though Lexa died inside, avoiding Gus’ amused grin.

“Not too bad. Pretty busy tonight. Lots of studying going on.”

“Yeah, same with us. Lots of studying. We read. A lot. Math too. We’re learning… math things,” Lexa nodded and cleared her throat, looking to her tutee for help, though he had none to give.

“Alright, I think a round of fries are in order for you. Anything else to drink, Gus?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he smiled wider, sharing a look with the embarrassed and flustered girl across the table. “Maybe a date for my friend here.”

“Whenever we get to it, we will. I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke promised, afraid to look at Lexa’s reaction. They kept a pact of not looking at each other, despite the valiant wingmanning that was taking place. “I know I can’t ask anyone out. I’m a cheerleader. We get asked out.”

Gus let out a loud bark of a laugh, and Clarke chuckled along with it, though Lexa remained completely still, not willing to lift her eyes to either of them, but rather staring at one equation on the page of her notebook unfailingly.

“Don’t tease your tutor,” Clarke warned the football player as she grabbed their cups to refill them. “Give you a ride home after my shift?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Lexa nodded, still not looking up. In fact, she actively refused to ever move again. She vowed to melt right into the booth.

“Definitely,” Clarke nodded. “I’ll be right back with some snacks.”

As soon as the waitress escaped ear shot, Lexa turned a stern gaze onto her colleague, pursing her lips and tapping her pen against the table in frustration. She stared and waited for  something, though Gus just had a shit-eating grin on his face and no guilt at all.

“You’re welcome,” he offered.

“I hate you so much. You’re the worst wingman. It’s much more complicated than you even know, and you can’t do stuff like that.”

“I helped. Now you know she’ll say yes to whatever you pick.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You’ll thank me for this one day.”

All the tutor could do was groan and roll her eyes, sinking deep into the bench.

Sorry about that. He’s the worst, Lexa typed out quickly on her phone, tossing it down and not expecting a quick answer. It vibrated ten seconds later.

No apology needed. I was kidding about the whole cheerleader thing. I’d ask you out right now if I didn’t think you’d combust.

Perhaps it was the confidence that Gus gave, perhaps it was just the right moment, perhaps the stars aligned and all of human history waited for this to happen. Lexa would never know what made her type another message, and she’d never tell Gus.

Do you want to go see a movie next week? It’s okay if you’re busy… I just thought a reschedule would be good.

With bated breath she waited, her cheeks turning impossibly more read, as if that was something scientifically possible. But still, they tried.

I’m all yours. I have to make up for bailing last week.

All nerves rushed out of Lexa’s body and she tilted her head just in time to see a waitress smile and bite her lip as she tucked her phone in her back pocket.

“What?” Gus asked.

“Nothing.”

The house was almost always fairly quiet. Sometimes, a basketball game echoed from the living room while her father napped with files and his BlackBerry buzzing beside him. Sometimes, tiny conversations took place between her parents, that Lexa caught the tal end of or she would infer what the rest meant, or better yet, that she would just ignore completely, never even hearing what they mentioned.

But it was a Wednesday, and the rain was pelting the windows while the leaves that were left on the trees dripped and rattled. Soccer practice was cancelled, and debate had been a rip roaring good time. Tutoring cancelled and she couldn’t bring herself to go to the diner without an excuse, for fear of seeming like a stalker, thus leaving Lexa nothing to do but go home.

With the semester winding down, and the homework load less than ever, all that Lexa could do was try not to look at her phone too much. And thus, she ambled around the house with nothing to do and too much on her mind. Things had been different this year. Things were just… she was just… different. That was the only word she had for it. She felt like she was waking up, finally, and she didn’t recognize where she was anymore.

That was how Lexa somehow found herself flopping down on the couch while her mother worked.

“Hey, honey, how was school?”

“Good, fine, yeah, great,” Lexa nodded, crossing and recrossing her legs. She lulled her head and looked toward her mother. “What’s for dinner?”

“Your dad is picking up Thai on his way home. You can make it another hour I hope.”

“Barely.”

“I believe in you.”

Elegant and slender, her mother adjusted her glasses, tilting her head back as she flipped another page in the stack of papers she was sorting and marking up. For the longest, Lexa looked at her, curious if she’d ever actually looked at her before. Suddenly, she was thinking of these things. Suddenly, she was aware of the world, as if she’d been asleep for a long, long time, and now was in control enough to notice. She saw that her mother tilted her head to the side when she read. And she still wore the necklace her husband got her for their second anniversary. And her favorite sweatshirt was older than her oldest daughter, and still getting miles put on it.

Lexa saw her mother differently, and all at once, just like her father was suddenly new again. It was like seeing a stranger and realizing they were an old friend, one that moved away long ago, one that you knew who they once were, and from that tried to construct them again, but came up with a hollow anagram of what they might be.

“Do I have something on my face?” her mother asked with a smile as she adjusted her glasses.

“Mom, I like Clarke.”

“We like her too,” her mother nodded. “Polite and smart. Nice choice in friend.”

“No, no,” Lexa shook her head and took a deep breath. “You’re not understanding me. I need you to understand me. I like Clarke. I like her like… I like her in a kiss each other kind of way.”

Those weren’t the right words, but Lexa hadn’t planned on anything like that. She hadn’t planned on coming out, she never knew she had to do it officially, just that she never told anyone, not even Luna. Anya knew only because she knew everything, so no formalities needed.

She was afraid of meeting her mother’s eyes, because Lexa was afraid of disappointing her. She was afraid of a lot of things, but mostly, changing. And nothing was staying the same anymore for her. She needed to put her foot down and establish a baseline.

“You like Clarke,” her mother repeated, measuring her words. “Thank goodness, because she likes you too, and I thought I was reading it wrong.”

“Wait. What?”

“I don’t want to react too strongly. You don’t tell us things, and I just… I don’t want to scare you from telling me things. I’m very happy though. Clarke is a nice girl.”

“You’re… this is okay?”

“Oh, Lexa,” her mother sighed.

She didn’t care that her daughter wasn’t a hugger. She didn’t care that she was nervous. She just had to show her what all the words would fail to say, and so she wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her tightly, clinging there and not letting go.

Startled by it, Lexa held her breath before letting out a long breath and relaxing into her mother’s embrace. She dug her nose into her shoulder, felt lips kiss her temple while arms squeezed her shoulders. It was only a little while later that she realized she was clinging back to her mother even tighter.

“It’s like we don’t know each other anymore, and I’m sorry for that,” the mother whispered. “But I’m here for you to tell me these things. I’m here to be your biggest fan and support.”

“I want to quit debate club.”

“Okay.”

“And government.”

“What does this--”

“I want to have a life. I will keep soccer and track, and pick up A/V club,” Lexa wagered. “But I want to have time to just… just… think, and see you, and I don’t know. Why are you crying?”

To her credit, Dianne Woods did her best to not appear to be crying. She couldn’t really remember the last time she allowed herself to cry, and yet, when it started, she couldn’t stop it, even though she smiled through it. Her daughter just looked back at her, oddly confused at it and unsure of what she could do or had done.

“When you turned eight, I don’t know what happened. You just got quiet. It wasn’t that you weren’t naturally a quiet kid, I just remember thinking that you were different. Your brain worked different, and I failed because instead of trying harder, I just resigned myself to believing that you were just a quiet kid.”

“All I’ve had are expectations.”

“We expect a lot.” she nodded. “But I saw you with Clarke, and I just realized that I don’t know my own daughter. And that’s how I always felt my mother was, and I don’t want that, and I’m so sorry, Lexa.”

Once again, she was consumed in a hug, and Lexa missed telling her father because there was less hugging and crying. Significantly less, actually.

“We’re fine,” Lexa promised.

“I want to hear everything though. Start to finish.���

“We don’t have to--”

“Come on, just tell me a little,” Dianna smiled and tugged her daughter onto the couch, refusing to let her escape

With a huff, Lexa agreed only because her mother’s eyes were still glassy and it was something they both needed, no matter how much it hurt.

“She’s just so pretty and smart and funny. I can’t think straight near her. It’s exhausting to have a crush on someone. I once spilled my water bottle all over myself at practice because she was watching.”

“I’m sure she gets flustered too.”

“Never!”

Her mother wiped her cheeks again and smiled at the idea of her daughter being bashful near a pretty girl. Lexa gave in, telling her mother everything that happened over the past few months, and for a moment, finally talking about it made it real, and she felt a little more of herself move on from the weight of the past.

It was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing different than what they’d already done a few times already. It was nothing.

Except it was something.

Lexa couldn’t escape that thought as she stood in front of her closet and stared at the clothes that hung there and couldn’t pick the right thing to wear. It was just a movie. It was just hanging out. It was just... everything.

Fall settled neatly outside. The leave fell and left skeletal arms and arthritic fingers for branches, naked and wobbling in the breeze and chill. Halloween decorations remained, despite being a good two weeks removed from the holiday, while it was too early for Christmas lights and festive cheer, leaving a limbo in the neighborhood.

It was getting closer to the end of the semester, and somehow, after just a few months at school, Lexa managed a date with the most beautiful girl she’d ever dreamed possible. Things were different, and for some reason, she felt like she wasn’t stuck or heavy or different. For some reason, she felt normal. It wasn’t all Clarke’s fault or doing, but rather the things that went into Clarke, that helped with everything else. Her parents knew. They talked now, and had dinner, and they listened a bit better than before. It was almost like they’d all pressed paused on their lives, and were slowly starting again, renewed, but not restored.

Without moving at all, Lexa dialed her sister and waited impatiently for her to pick up so that she could full begin her complete and total freak out before her da--

“Six rings is excessive. You always have your phone on you,” Lexa muttered, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Hello, Lexa,” Anya chirped. “How are you doing?”

“What do you wear on a date?”

The clothes taunted her while the clock made her anxious. Every second ticked closer to the date, and she was falling behind quite swiftly.

“Wear what you’d normally wear.”

“I think she likes me platonically, but I want her to like me romantically. I can’t wear friendly clothes. I have to wear date clothes. I don’t own any date clothes.”

“Well, what are you going to do on this date?” Anya grinned to herself, trying not to be too amused at her sister’s troubles. “That should narrow things down a little.”

“Going to see a movie.”

“Ah.”

“What does that mean?” Lexa furrowed and crossed her arm over her stomach as she stared at her clothes without seeing them.

“Nothing, nothing. Just wear something you’ll feel comfortable in, but something she’ll know means you want to kiss her.”

“That’s why I’m calling you!”

“Alright, alright,” she tutted. “Wear those black jeans and that cute sweater, with your boots. It’s casual and comfortable, but you look good in those pants.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you think maybe you’re projecting your worries on your clothes?”

“Yeah, no shit I am,” Lexa grunted as she tugged the items out of her closet and set about putting them on. Arms halfway in her sleeves, she heard the commotion downstairs to indicate someone was at the door, and she panicked. “Fuck, she’s here.”

“Hey, just be yourself. She’ll like--”

“Thanks, Anya,” she interrupted and tossed her phone on the bed as she continued to tug clothes on completely.

Despite the hurry, as soon as she slipped on her boots and stopped in front of the mirror before leaving her room, Lexa took a moment to stare at herself, to really give herself a look. Anya was right, of course, and she’d tell her as much if she survived the night. But Lexa just adjusted her glasses and tried to take a deep breath though it wasn’t easy. She gave herself a once over and tried to fix her hair until she wasn’t sure how she even looked anymore.

She was going on her first official date with Clarke Griffin, and there was no going back.

With that finality, she finally made her way toward the stairs, ready to face it head on, or at least as best she could. It might have been easier if she hadn’t had such a crush and then become friends. But that only made it worse. There was no way she’d be able--

“Wow,” Lexa gulped as she found Clarke standing in the foyer, talking to her parents like old friends. She earned a smile and equally appraising eyes. “You look great. Amazing. Really good.”

“Same to you,” Clarke smiled, assuring Lexa that things were alright. It had that effect, while simultaneously making her palms sweat and her shoulders shiver.

The cheerleader knew what to wear on a date. Lexa was fairly certain she didn’t have to call someone to help them pick out something simple like a sweater. There was no way Clarke didn’t already just know how to do those things, and there’s no way she looked that amazing on accident.

Lexa liked Clarke’s lips, now darker red. She liked her eyes. She liked her skirt and jacket and she liked her smile. She spent too long liking those things and not saying anything though, as her father soon let her know with a gentle clearing of his throat.

“We’re going to a movie,” she finally said. “I’ll be home around midnight.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

“That’s my fault,” Clarke offered. “I worked yesterday and cancelled last week.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lexa promised. “I’ll see you later.”

“No later than twelve,” her mother interjected.

Lexa nudged Clarke toward the door.

“Love you, bye,” she nodded.

From the living room, her father gave her a big smile and a thumbs up, making her blush. Quickly, she shut the door and took a deep breath, grateful for the chill in the evening and the fact that Clarke couldn’t see her mortified frown in the dark. Instead, Clarke just sighed and smiled.

“Shall we start this, officially?” Clarke began.

“Please.”

The movie theater was almost empty. Sunday was particularly slow, but still, Lexa was anxious with the enormity of the first date. Her own nerves betrayed themselves in every movement, despite the fact that they’d hung out together. They’d kissed already. It shouldn’t have been so terrible.

“You’re quiet,” Clarke murmured after they settled in their seats.

The auditorium had a few other people in it, but they were alone for a good radius. Lexa bit the straw to the drink they’d share and offered a shy smile.

“I guess I’m still kind of just waiting to say the wrong thing,” she shrugged. “I don’t want to do that.”

“And what might you say that would be wrong?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to find out.”

Whatever it was, Clarke chuckled and shook her head before leaning deeper into the chair, putting her feet up on the one in front of her as she prepared for the feature presentation. She lulled her head to the side and stared at Lexa.

“I am very happy to be here with you. Thanks for waiting around for me,” Clarke offered. “You are really amazing, just so you know.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lexa blushed and cleared her throat.

“I do. Now tell me everything I need to know about this movie.”

That was easy enough, and Lexa began talking until her words and blurred together. They chatted easily, and for some reason, she just had a little confidence. Perhaps it was the topic, perhaps it was the person, perhaps it was the little part of her that actually believed Clarke liked here that sometimes grew and flashed and told her to try.

It didn’t so much  matter why, just that Clarke felt a certain peace in the movie theater with the girl who fixed her car and had a head full of flyaways after soccer practice.

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Lexa took a sip of their drink and after returning it, felt Clarke slip her own hand into her’s. She squeezed, just to make sure it was real, and sure enough, Clarke was holding her hand. On purpose.

She couldn’t remember much else from the film.

There was still time after the movie, and Lexa was not interested in going home just yet. She didn’t want to ever go home. She didn’t want school to come, and she didn’t want things to change. She just wanted this.

“It’s a little cold for ice cream,” Lexa murmured as she shivered and sat on the edge of Clarke’s tailgate, furrowing at her cone that still dripped despite the chill in the autumn air.

“But it’s so good,” Clarke disagreed with a slight pout. “Plus, I like fresh air whenever I get a chance, and I’m sick of Oscar’s food. Our ice cream isn’t this good.”

“I kind of like it.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to risk a future date.”

“No risk in that,” she mumbled before licking her ice cream. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. My mom says my stubborness will keep me toasty.”

Despite her words, Clarke shivered again, and Lexa slid closer to her, without thinking about it, without meaning to at all. Instead, she just got some body heat.

“I can help with keeping warm, too,” Lexa offered, obliviously eating her cone.

It was those moments, those acts and words that left Clarke absolutely flabbergasted. How could someone so absolutely dense and daft be smooth without trying, and a complete nerd about everything else the rest? Mathematically it didn’t make sense, and either Lexa was a complete genius, or really was oblivious. Clarke knew it was the latter, but still questioned it at times.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Woods,” Clarke accused before returning to her snack.

“Huh?”

“Want to trade?”

“What?” Lexa furrowed again.

“I want to try yours. We should swap. We get 2 flavors then,” Clarke explained rationally.

Lexa eyed her date and smiled because naturally she would think of things like that. Without any hesitation, she handed over her cone and accepted Clarke’s, earning a smile.

The porch light was still on when they pulled back into Lexa’s driveway. The house was mostly dark save for some lamp in the living room, which didn’t tell anyone if there were people waiting up inside, but Lexa didn’t want to risk it, and neither did Clarke. So they sat there in the truck and knew that it was over, just not how to end it.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Lexa finally tried, running her hands over her thighs a few times to work up some courage. “We should go out again?”

“We definitely should. Another official date. And maybe hang out more in between?” Clarke offered, with her own level of insecurity wafting in despite her best efforts.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I’d like that. Of course. Yes. Yes, we should.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Clarke fiddled with the steering wheel before looking over at her date and seeing some of the stress slide away from her jaw and cheeks, no longer holding it in so tightly, but rather relaxing into their date and the reciprocated feelings.

“What was your favorite part of the date?” Lexa asked.

“I quite liked the part where you offered to keep me warm. It’s weird, but it was just this nice, good, honest moment that I don’t think you knew you did.” Clarke ducked her head and remembered it. “I think it says a lot about you as a person.”

“I liked the movie.”

Clarke laughed this time and Lexa felt her mouth pull into a smile, though confused.

“That was your favorite part?” she complained half-heartedly. “I took you for ice cream. My secret ice cream spot. And held our hand.”

“It was a really good movie,” she shrugged. “And the other stuff was great too. But my favorite part hasn’t happened yet.”

“Oh?”

“We were sitting in a similar position when you kissed me. I really want to kiss you. That’ll be my favorite part, but we don’t have to, and it still would be the best date of my life. The only one, actually,” Lexa rambled. “But also, I don’t need that. I just was kind of looking forward to it, but it doesn’t matter. The whole date was the best par--”

Clarke made her be quiet the only way she knew how, and that was to kiss Lexa once again. This one took a bit of adjusting, but Clarke slid across the seat a bit and she waited for Lexa to stop talking, but she did it. She kissed her and she felt her heart skip.

It was a good kiss. Hell, it was a great kiss. It was the best kiss, and it did nothing to make Lexa calm down at all. Instead, she grew so excited, it felt like her brain was going to overheat and her lungs were impossible to inflate.

“I just. Hold on,” Lexa mumbled as she pulled away. “I just need a second.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke hurried. “I didn’t mean--”

“No, no that was. Yeah, that was perfect. Great. That was amazing. I just… it was too amazing. I need to come back.”

“Too advanced flirting?”

“Just right,” she corrected. “I just… wow.”

“I’m thinking that we kiss more, like, in general,” Clarke decided, offering the proposition with a manner of business-like confidence. “Not just tonight.”

“You want to kiss me more?”

“I want to kiss you all of the time.”

“Oh,” Lexa nodded to herself and chanced a look at the flushed face of the prettiest cheerleader that she’d ever seen. “We can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Great date,” Clarke grinned and leaned forward slightly, needing Lexa to meet her part of the way.

For a long time, they kissed. Lexa felt hands move to her side and her hip and her neck and she didn't want to ever stop the kissing part. A few times, the ad that popped up in front of her hair was the simple fact that she was making out with Clarke Griffin. That was a fact that kept her very confused and happy.

“You should go inside,” Clarke finally interrupted the kissing to bring back the real world. “I think your parents like me, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But I like this too much,” Lexa disagreed and pushed forward to kiss Clarke back. She felt her hand slip lower on her date’s chest and she wanted to see how far she was going to be allowed to go.

“You have to.”

“Fine.”

“We can date, though. You know? Dating. We’re dating. If you want.”

“I want,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I want it a lot.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great,” Clarke nodded and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Great date,” Lexa decided once again to herself as she slid out of the cab of the truck. “Great date.”

From the driver’ seat in the old truck, Clarke watched her date climb the steps and make her way inside. She couldn’t stop smiling, but as soon as Lexa was out of sight, Clarke leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and said a tiny prayer, that this goodness would stick.

NEXT

[butch-snufkin]

Lesbian Jock/Nerd

For anon~~sorry this is literally so late but I hope you enjoy :)

--

"We won't even be able to fly our hot air balloon if we don't get it finished. And today's the last day, I think," Tess mutters, untangling the hot glue gun cord.

That snaps me out of my daze real quick. "I thought we had tomorrow too."

"Maybe try paying attention for once. But I know how horribly difficult it is for you to listen when the woman of your dreams is close by." Tess snickers, and does a breathy, lovesick impression of my voice. "Oh Kendell, take me away! Kendell, I love it when you use big words like Pythagorean Theorem!"

I scoff. "I happen to know very well what the Pythagorean Theorem is. And besides, I don't even sound like that."

But I did sound like that. I may be daft but I still know that my feelings for Kendell aren't exactly a secret around school. I mean, I've done nothing to hide it, but somehow lots of people don't know, which is so weird. Word usually spreads pretty fast. Kendell probably doesn't know I exist, and if she does then she must hate me. Straight girls get so uncomfortable at the notion that another girl might like them, it's crazy.

Tess hastily blots hot glue onto the tissue paper hot air balloon, accidentally burning her fingers in the process. She yelps and holds out the project for me. "Here, since you're so chattery, you can give this to the teacher."

I'd really rather not, but Tess will just keep blowing on her fingers and pouting until I can't take how annoying she is anymore. I snatch the hot air balloon from her, though not hard enough to tear the paper.

I give her a nasty look over my shoulder and when I turn around, I almost slam straight into-

"Hi Kendell," I blurt immediately, like the idiot I am.

"Hey guys," she nods. Kendell has always been very chill for a geek. Very attractive of her. "Nicole, you play lacrosse, right?"

I nod excitedly, delighted that she knows that about me.

Kendell kicks the heel of her shoe into the ground and gives me a lopsided smile that makes my feel all fluttery. "This is, like, such a weird question, but do you have any of your sticks with you today?"

Before I can answer, she jumps ahead. "Our balloon landed a few streets away in someone's tree and Robbie said he'd give me five bucks if I got it out for him, since he doesn't want to. And you live just up the street, so I was thinking you might be able to help? I don't have a broom or anything but the lacrosse stick would be long enough to get it."

She was right. It is a weird question. It's absurd. But I would bring her as many lacrosse sticks as she wanted.

Tess, who came out of nowhere, slaps me on the back. "Nicole would LOVE to help you."

Kendell smiles again. "Cool." -------------------------------------------- I walk up the hill with my longest lacrosse stick across my shoulders. I don't realize I'm going way faster than Kendell is until I look behind me and see her huffing and puffing 5'6 catch up. I wait for her, embarrassed. What a great first impression.

"Sorry," I say. Earlier we had to trudge through knee-deepsnow and now I'm making her run after me.

"It's fine. You were kinda booking it, though," she says between pants. I must look really guilty, because she laughs and reassures, "Its not you. I just have short legs."

Fantastic legs. Not that I'm, like, checking out her legs or anything, but she really has nice curves on her. And not like mannequin curves, where the hips are wide and the waist is wrist-thin. Kendell fills out her clothes and looks simultaneously every huggable but strong, like a dancer. Man, I must sound like a creep.

She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times, then shuts it off and slides it back in her pocket. Most likely and S.O.S note to let someone know she needs to be rescued from this awkward, skyscraper lesbian.

"This way," Kendell points, starting to walk again, and I can't help but notice she's taking bigger steps.

When we reach the tree, I can already tell this thing isn't coming down in one piece. It's way too tangled in the branches. Kendell watches me as I stand on my toes and reach as high as I can, only to be a foot or two out of reach. I try jumping, which unfortunately does nothing.

Kendell blows a sharp breath and pushes her slipping glasses back up her nose. "Jeez, sorry about all this. Made you come out here in the cold and it doesn't even work."

"Nope. Absolutely not. I came out here to get this balloon and I'm not leaving til we do." It's very brutally honest of me, but I wouldn't feel satisfied without knowing we accomplished something. "Get on my back," I say without thinking.

"You wouldn't be able to lift me," Kendell insists casually. "I'm too heavy." She sounds like she's given this speech a million times and no one has ever believed her.

"Are you even seeing me? I'm like double your size. Come on, I won't drop you." I crouch over for her.

"Oh, please," Kendell protests, but gets on anyway. "Not like there's anything in it for you."

"Your five dollars are very important to me."

She laughs loudly, and I am absolutely thrilled that I did that! I made her laugh! I also love the squeak she makes when I stand back up with no difficulty. 

At this new height, it's almost too easy, and we don't even rip the paper. I kind of don't want to put her down, but I have to. She has this big grin on her face. It matches mine.

"Thanks, that was awesome."

I don't know if she means the balloon or the fact that I just deadlifted her, so I just say "Anytime"

Kendell flattens out the balloon before folding it up, and I laugh at the cartoon logo on it: A drawing of a lobster with a crown, with the words LOBSTER QUEENS in bold Sharpie underneath. 

"Did you draw that?" I ask.

"What gave it away?" 

"I've seen the guys in your group. None of them have good enough handwriting to do something like that." 

Kendell giggles. "True. I'm not better than any of them at science by a long shot. The only reason they want me on their team is because we're getting a grade on design and I'm the only one they're friends with who can draw." 

"I really like it," I say, and I mean it. It's fun, but not over the top. Very Kendell. "And your team did get first place, so it was probably worth it." 

"I guess. I get along better with the guys, anyway. I weird the other girls out, so it works." She stares at the ground.

This is important, I can tell. I want to know more, but I don't want to scare her off. "You don't weird me out." 

She brightens. "Thanks. Figured as much. Straight girls are just like that. Like, 'aww, we'll be your friends, but ONLY if you don't fall in love with us!' Give me a break, you know?" 

My heart kind of stops. "What?" 

"What?" 

"What?" I definitely do not panic. 

"I'm gay," she says, her smile soft and warm. "You seriously didn't know? I thought everyone knew."

"I'm a bit out of the loop," I admit, trying to stay calm while I'm screaming happily inside. 

The walk back is nicer. Less anxiety inducing. There isn't an uncomfortable wall between us. We joke like we're old friends, and at one point our hands brush for a few seconds, and I have no idea what it means but I absolutely love it.

[a-fools-jester]

Hello there! I really love your writing! You capture the characters personalities and interactions very well and I always enjoy your stories. You said you wanted irondad prompts, so maybe something like Peter finds an abandoned kitten one day before going to work ((let’s be honest: just hang)) with Tony and doesn’t know how to tell him/worries he’ll be annoyed so he just tries to hide the cat while he’s with Tony, but Tony notices him fidgeting etc. and is just like “kid wtf?” Until Peter caves

In Peter’s defense, the kitten was alone and obviously abandoned, left in a box next to the garbage bin he used to keep his backpack webbed to while he was out being Spider-Man. The little fella had orange fur and pretty green eyes. “Hey, I’m Peter,” he whispered to the kitten, rubbing him behind the ears. “What’s your name, hmm?” He checked the back of the box for a phone number or a name, but alas, he found nothing but the words FREE TO A GOOD HOME.Problem: he was running late for his Stark Internship. He and Mr. Stark had always met at 4:30 on Tuesdays and Saturdays, an unspoken agreement between the two of them that Peter would come in for “work” that day. Problem number 2: he was most definitely not going to leave the kitten in a box next to some dumpster but he had no time to take it anywhere else. MJ was too far, he wasn’t close enough to home, and Ned was allergic to cats. 

“What am I going to do with you, little guy?” he asked the kitten who did nothing but cling to his shirt with his little paws. Well, that was that then. There was literally no other choice. “Alright, alright. Stay in my backpack for a little while, okay? I’ll leave it open for you so you can breathe but you can’t jump out, okay?”Once little Jam was secure and content, Peter put the backpack on his chest, wrapping his arms around his little secret and running as fast as he could towards the compound. He made it in record time (thank god for being fast) and skipped security, going straight to the elevator. “Alright, it’s 4:37. Not bad, Jam. Not bad at all,” he cooed before he paused. “You’re gonna have to stay in my bag, alright? I’m not sure if Mr. Stark would… well, I’m not sure how he’d feel about having a cat around.”The moment he said it, anxiety filled his stomach with lead. Did Mr. Stark have a cat allergy?Would he be annoyed with Peter for being late and having nothing to show for it except for a small stray kitten?Was this Mr. Stark’s line of everything he was willing to accept? Peter shuffled from foot to foot, putting the backpack behind him. Mr Stark had accepted that he was a teenager with only a little bit of teasing, had accepted the fact that he was a mess and didn’t obey orders while taking down the Vulture with exasperation and mild frustration, but what if he thought this only proved how immature and unready Peter was to be an Avenger? What if he decided Peter wasn’t a good fit to be Spider-Man?Okay, perhaps this wasn’t one of his better ideas.He clutched the straps of his backpack with white-knuckled fists, keeping his head bowed when the elevator opened. The lab was as it always was, and Mr. Stark was hunched over one of the worktables, examining the robot he was working on building. Mr. Stark looked up, meeting his eyes with a nod before he turned back to the robot and gestured for Friday to turn on some of his ‘Brain Stimulating Music’- which, in Peter’s book, meant Old Man Rock.Thankful for Mr. Stark’s distraction Peter took a seat and placed Jam on his lap, opening the zipper a bit to make sure that the little guy didn’t have any trouble breathing. “I need to work on this bot for Pepper, so you go ahead and do your thing for now. I’ll call you when I need you.”Peter nodded, taking out his math book and breathing a small sigh of relief.It can’t be that hard to hide a kitten for a couple hours. Right?The minutes ticked by slowly as Peter did his homework, working on his Pythagorean theorem worksheet for Ms. Benny and studying the scatter plots for Ms. Ann. Some days, he really wished his school didn’t make all the students take math and “advanced math” at the same time, which really didn’t make very much sense. Why didn’t they just teach everything in one class instead of separating things into two subjects?Because now Peter was mentally questioning his existence in two classes instead of one. Smart as he was, he just really didn’t like math. Science was his favorite subject, but math? Torture. Ned would often roll his eyes when Peter let his opinion on the subject be known because even if it was torture, he usually got good marks. But still…Whoever invented math must have been a sadist.As Peter struggled and stared at his textbook with the blank expression of a student going through finals, Tony observed the kid arachnid. He was being weird. Less bubbly and talkative than usual, fidgety, not meeting Tony’s eyes, didn’t ask about what Tony was building. Something was off about him. Tony didn’t like it. It made him feel on edge.Was the kid hurt?  Going through something? Upset?They’ve been in the lab for almost an hour now and the kid hadn’t done anything except sit at one of the worktables and do his homework silently which was so unlike him that it made Tony immediately suspicious. The lack of stories about his day and questions about whatever and quips only made Tony even more suspicious. And the fidgeting…“Alright, out with it,” Tony said after waiting another fifteen minutes for Peter to offer an explanation, eyes narrowing when Peter jumped and met his stern gaze with wide eyes. “What’s going on with you?”“Me?” Peter asked, frowning, trying to not panic as Jam crawled out of the backpack on Peter’s lap. “There’s absolutely nothing- nghhh! Um, nothing wrong with me. Sir.” Peter shifted, wincing in discomfort when little Jam decided on using his shirt as a scratching post. The shirt he was currently wearing. The thin shirt which did not protect the soft flesh underneath it in the slightest. Luckily, the work table was high enough that it kept his lap and lower body hidden from Mr. Stark across the room. Not so luckily, Jam kept on scratching his stomach and it hurt.Tony’s eyes narrowed further, looking almost like he was trying to use X-ray vision on Peter. “You’re being really quiet, you came in late, you’re being all-” he gestured vaguely over Peter as he shifted to try and inconspicuously get Jam to stop. “-this. Tell me what’s wrong. Is it May? Her new boyfriend? Some boy at school bother you?”“What? No!” Peter responded immediately, frowning sourly at the mention of May’s new boyfriend. Jake the Joke was what the name Peter put him down under in his contacts list. Ugh. “It’s got nothing to do with Aunt May or Jake or school. There’s nothing wrong, Mr. Stark!”His wincing was not helping his case.Tony walked forward, putting down the screwdriver and scratching his beard. He had a look on his face that Ned and MJ had once called the Dad Face when they came over and Tony saw the nasty bruise on Peter’s jaw. “Listen, Peter…” Tony began, crossing his arms that he suddenly had no idea what to do with. “I’m not usually a heart-to-heart type of guy, alright? Emotions give me acid reflux. They’re not my forte. But if you need someone to talk to, I am here and I will listen and probably give you advice. I’m not sure how reliable said advice will be but it will be given. You’re my mentee and I take my responsibilities seriously- or, well, seriously for my standards. So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong so we can figure out-”Tony stopped, blinking in bafflement, and Peter’s mind supplied him with a vine he saw that was relevant to his situation- the one with Jessie J going n-n-n-n-n-no no no no NO NO NONO.“Is that a kitten on your lap right now, Peter?” Tony asked, voice torn between being angry and laughing. “What the fuck, kid?”“Mr. Stark, I can explain-”Tony gestured to the cat. “Explain nothing! You’ve been here for an hour being all weird and I thought you had some type of problem and it’s- A cat! You brought a cat to the lab! Jesus. Anxiety issues, remember? I honest-to-god thought there was something wrong.”Peter nodded, shifting and placing Jam on the table now that it was out in the open. “I know, sir, and I’m sorry but Jam was alone and he was next to a garbage can and I was already- I was already running late so I just took him and ran here. I wasn’t sure if you’d let me take a cat in here or get mad so I just… didn’t tell you.”“Jam?” Tony repeated, bending over to look at the little ball of fur closer. “You named it?”“Yes?” Peter responded, looking sheepish, eyes soft in that horrible way that Tony firmly believed should be illegal. That was unfair. Peter using his puppy-dog eyes meant that Tony’s chances of being angry were greatly reduced by 40-50 percent.Jam took Tony’s lack of attention to move forward and nuzzle closer to him and he sighed. Goddammit. He really wanted to be upset about this entire thing but it seemed the universe wasn’t going to allow it. “Alright, maybe he’s not too bad for a little mouser. Are you going to take him home?” He looked up, catching Peter’s shifty eyes with a frown. “Well, actually…”“Oh no! No no no no, sir! Under no conditions is this creature going to stay here with me!” With his record, the thing would be dead within a week. Most things he came into contact with often suffered from that fate. Or maybe the kitten would make Tony fall into a false sense of safety and contentment and then run off with a team of strays, leaving Tony all alone again. Cat-tain Apurrica. “Mr. Stark, please? I’ve always wanted a pet and Aunt May always said no because our apartment complex doesn’t allow them-”“Then move. Easy peasy. I’ll pay for the entire goddamn transition if needed, but this-” “-and- and it would only be for a little while until I can either convince Aunt May or Ned or maybe MJ-”“-cat is not going to stay with me!”“-to let Jam stay with them. Please, Mr. Stark! I promise I’ll be super duper good on missions and I’ll do anything you want. Please.” There was a beat of silence. Tony met Peter’s eyes, which were cranked up to 11 on the puppy-dog scale. Again, unfair, but Tony was also doing his best stern glare so it might be a little bit more acceptable. Tony spent the silence telling himself every reason why he should not let the cat stay in the compound with him.He wasn’t fond of cats. (Not completely true, his mother had one.)He was too busy. (Not busy enough to keep his mind clear.)He was irresponsible. He wasn’t good at taking care of things. (True.)He couldn’t even take care of himself very well. (Also true.)He didn’t care about some stupid cat Peter brought in and wasn’t going to be the sole caretaker of it simply because Peter asked. (Well…)They stood there in a silent staring contest, a battle of wills going on between them. “Please?” Peter said after a few moments of silence, eyes pleading. “Anything?” Tony asked, putting his hands in his front pockets, his expression thoughtful. “Anything.”With a defeated sigh, Tony nodded. “Alright. You’re going to go with Pepper to the upcoming gala. You need some experience being at social events like that anyway, and I definitely do not want to go.”“Isn’t that the one that's… dedicated to you?” Peter responded, perplexed. “You're… not going to attend the party that’s specifically meant to show you how much you mean to the world?”  Tony nodded jerkily. “Having hundreds of thousands of people confess their love to me got tiring after a few years. You’ll be fine.”Peter considered his options. He really, really didn’t like parties that were big and grand, but… “If I go you’ll let Jam stay here?”“You have my word.”Peter bit his lip, nodding. “I’ll go.”Tony flashed him a thumbs up, grabbing a screwdriver and tossing it Peter’s way. Peter caught it easily, not needing to break eye contact with Tony. “Come here, show me what you can do with this bot. Work your magic.” With a grin, Peter walked forward, carrying Jam and taking him to the other worktable so he could be nearby while Peter worked. Tony watched him with an intense look, but it wasn’t awkward like it would be if it was anyone else because it was Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark kept watching him as he attached the two servo ports to the serializer, only humming from time to time in approval or surprise at his choices with the robot. The hours passed quicker after that and when day turned into night, Mr. Stark suggested he stay and give May a text to let her know. They put on a movie and ordered a pizza, sitting in the lounge with Jam laying down between them. Mr. Stark got Happy to buy some cat supplies and the bemused man did so with only a few quips, bringing Jam some food, a bed, toys and a purple collar with a heart nametag that said ‘If lost, return to Spider-Man or Iron Man’. Peter remembered how the compound had been like when he’d first visited, how empty and gray, like the very walls were hungry for light. It felt like a lonely place to stay, let alone live in. There were too many empty spaces, empty rooms, empty silences with nothing but music and one person’s breath to fill it.Peter watched as Jam nuzzled up to Mr. Stark and Mr. Stark had rolled his eyes at that, but Peter saw the way he was smiling at Jam with a fond look in his eyes.Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Sorry this took a while to get done! I hope this is okay because fluff is sorta not my forte hahaha 😅

[precastersblog]

The methods to use distance measures

It is very tough to use standard tape measures also it may provide wrong measurements, so this is where the distance measures come in. With this advanced device, you are assured of accuracy, apart from it also you can do multiple calculations, and much more.

Moreover, this device is great for measuring size and distance and offers more tractability than a ruler. Distance measures are easily available in any marketplace with an effective value.

In this blog, we will discuss numerous and unique functionalities of distance measures.

Guide to using the distance measures

1. How to set up the device

First must check its unit settings as it has measurement units in inches, feet, or meters. Say you are measuring the length of a table, and you fortuitously set the unit at feet when you needed to use meters; you can adjust the measurement unit through and after measuring.

In addition, the users can turn on the backlight in the dark and even set it to take constant measurements, which is seamless for scanning corners. On top of that, it can keep a record of both the maximum and minimum values.

2. Methods to add and subtract numerous distance measurements

When you need to calculate how long two walls are conflicting with each other, usually, you would measure one wall, measure the next one, and then sum them accordingly.

3. How to measure area and volume on a distance measures

In some cases, you may need to measure both the area and the volume. With distances, you can complete this job accurately but it is impossible with standard tape measures.

To get the area, you can find the window's width and length, and your distance measures will compute it.

4. How to measure ancillary measurements on the distance measures

When you want to find the height of a high wall, and you do not have a ladder, the distance measures can hurriedly get the size. It permits you to measure surfaces indirectly through the Pythagorean Theorem that can compute correct angle dimensions.