#and if we add to this the whole situation with my biology teacher (which is a separate case bc that man's incredible and not in a good way)

[mrsbrookegillespie]

+Homework+ Luke x Fem!Reader

(Not My Gif)

Description:When Y/N’s progress report comes out it seems as though their mom isn’t happy with the letters that follow each subject. So when they have to cancel on her friends band rehearsal to do their assignments it leads to an interesting encounter with the brunette guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms.

Warning: Stress, school, bad grades, mild angst, mostly fluff. 

+Homework+

Luke is not someone to judge another for having bad grades, considering what his report cards looked like, and the fact he dropped out of high school at seventeen. But, Y/N has two more years left in school, despite her age, and frankly… She’s struggling. “What’s this?” her mother asks, showing her an email.

“Those are… My grades?” Y/N shrugs, avoiding the small letters that labeled her as dumb, and lazy.

“Y/N! You need to start getting serious about this. You’re going to flunk out!” Y/N internally winces at her mother shouting at her. “I’m very disappointed about this…”

“Well,” Y/N starts. “I’ll do it!” She bites her lip, sliding away from her desk. “Tomorrow,” she adds, looking at the time. “I promised Julie I’d watch band practice today.” Her mom gives her a blank stare.

“Y/N! We’ve been very laid back with you, you’ve never been grounded or anything, but right now I want you to stay at home, and get your missing work done.” 

“But--”

“No!” 

Her mom closes the door on the way out, leaving Y/N feeling the stress of school. She grabs her phone, clicking Julie’s contact. “Hey! Are you almost here?” Julie asks.

“I can’t make it…” Y/N breathes out.

“What?!” Julie exclaims. “But, you promised to be here today, we’re performing tomorrow, you know?” The disappointment radiates through the phone.

“I know! And I will be there for that, because that’s really important, but I just can’t make it today.” Y/N is too embarrassed to say the reason why. Julie has amazing grades, and is insanely talented, and she might be a little jealous of that, mostly because she gets to spend extra time with Luke who Y/N has heart eyes for. But, his eyes are for someone else. Julie.

“No, she’s not coming,” she answers the muffled voice in the background. “I don’t know!” she groans. “The boys wanted me to ask you if you’re okay, which are you?” 

“Yes! I’m fine, just go rehearse, even though you guys don’t really need it, I know you’ll rock tomorrow--” Y/N gets cut off by her door swinging open.

“Y/N! Homework! Now!” her mom orders.

“I’m just telling Julie I can’t make it,” Y/N argues. “I gotta go.” 

“Oh, okay, well, we all miss you over here,” she affirms.

“Yeah, I miss you all too, but we did see each other today, so… I miss the boys.” 

Julie laughs. “I’ll tell them that, especially you know who.” Y/N can sense Julie’s smirk when she speaks. 

Y/N chokes on a bit of her saliva. “Julie! I-I have to go.” She hangs up. “Why me?” she asks whatever higher power could possibly be listening to the teenage girl. 

She plops down on her desk chair.

“What to start with?” Her eyes scan her To-Do List she’s already made, it’s not as much as she thought, but it’s definitely time consuming and very boring. Some of her teachers have already reached out to her, but she chooses to ignore their offers of help. She’s scared she’ll say something they’ll find stupid, or won’t understand. 

And so she has to skip her favorite part of the day, to do Algebra, and History and Biology, and…

“So, why couldn’t she come today?” Luke asks, tuning his guitar on the couch.

“Eh, I didn’t ask her,” Julie admits. 

“Why not?” Luke gives her a pointed look, his movements faltering.

“She would’ve told me if it was that important,” she claims. She looks off, before seeing him go back to his previous state. “Luke, you've been tuning that guitar for half an hour, I think it’s good.” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“So, Y/N really can’t come today?” Reggie asks, saddened over the news. “But, she never misses a rehearsal unless it’s family, or school related.” 

Luke finally stops, setting down his guitar. “Wait,” he starts. “Didn’t progress reports come out today?” 

Everyone looks at him weirdly. “How do you know that?” Alex questions, spinning his drumstick.

“Oh--uh.” He scratches the back of his head. “When I visited Julie at school the other day, I heard something about it.” 

Julie turns his head towards him. “Are you talking about when Y/N said something about it to Flynn? A couple feet away from us? Yeah I heard her too, because I was facing her.” She crosses her arms. “I think someone has a crush,” she teases, smiling widely.

“What?!” A subtle blush paints over his cheeks. “I don’t like Y/N like that, she’s--she’s just a good friend.”

“Oh come on!” Alex joins. “It’s so obvious, don’t think I don’t notice when you stare at her.” He sends a wink to Luke.

“Or when you talk about her,” Reggie adds. “Which is all the time.” 

“Just tell her,” Julie advises. 

“Tell her?” Luke repeats, giving her a look of disbelief. “I don’t think you’ve guys noticed, but I’m dead, and she’s very much alive.” 

“So?! Everyone knows you two are completely in love with each other, so give it a shot,” Julie urges, also knowing her friend's infatuation with the guitarist.

Luke chuckles. “She doesn’t like me, she rarely talks to me, to be honest I think she hates me.” 

“You rarely talk to her,” Julie points out. “And ‘to be honest’ I think she thinks you hate her.” Luke’s posture caves hearing Julie’s words. “Are we going to get started now?” 

Everyone nods. 

Throughout practice Luke found his mind wandering back to the previous conversations the band had. A warm feeling would build in his stomach for a movement when he would think about the fact that Y/N likes him, or at least his friends think so. “Luke!” Alex shouts, snapping Luke out of his thoughts. “Practice is over,” he informs.

"It is?!” His eyes widened when an idea popped into his mind. “Well, won’t you look at that, it is over, and I completely forgot I made plans, bye!” Luke poofs out, landing in a girly room, but has a certain vibe to it.

“Luke!” Y/N shrieks, putting a hand over her heart. “What are you doing here?” she whisper-yells.

“T-the--” he snaps his fingers. “The guys wanted someone to check in on you, and Alex is hanging out with Willie, and Reggie is Reggie so… I volunteered.” He sways back and forth against his ankles. “Sooo… How are you doing?” He strolls up to her smoothly, placing an arm on the back of her chair.

“Luke… You are a terrible liar,” she asserts. “But, if you really want to know. I’m not doing too well.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“School,” she sighs. “We got our progress reports, and I’m not doing too well.” She tries to hide the paper from Luke.

“Y/N, don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He plucks the paper from under her arm. His reassuring smile slowly faded. “There’s… Room for improvement?” He shrugs.

“Get out,” Y/N mutters. 

Luke’s heart plummeted. “What?” 

“I said get out,” she repeats, harshly. “I get it, I’m dumb, and I’m lazy, and I don’t do my work. I get it. So, just leave.” Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. “I’m serious Luke.” Her voice cracks a little.

Guilt washed over him when he saw the effect his words take on her. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He reaches out to hug her, but he instead goes straight through her.

Y/N doesn’t notice his attempt of this action, instead boring her eyes at the paper in front of her. “Luke, I said just go.” She rubs her forehead.

He didn’t move though, he instead started looking over the paper she hadn't touched. “Twenty-three,” he answers.

“What?” she chokes out.

“The answer, it’s twenty-three.” He looks at her, a little self-conscious. “Look, just because I didn’t have the best grades, or didn’t do work, didn’t mean I was dumb, so stop telling yourself that. We’re not so different you know.” 

She scrunches her face. “How’d you get that?” she asks. “The answer to the question.”

His eyes light up when she accepts his explanation, not asking him to leave again. “So… I just did…” 

He talks through the problem, asking Y/N if she understands when her eyes widen. He noticed she does that when she’s getting confused, or is not fully processing the words. As they go through each subject, him helping her, or giving his opinion on things. She started to find herself smiling, and having fun? “Wow,” he whispers, reading a poem. “You just wrote this?” 

She nods. “Yeah, I know, it’s not that great.” 

“No! It’s really good for something you wrote in five minutes,” he compliments, rereading the poem in his head. “Who knew you were such a romantic?” he teases.

Y/N feels her cheeks warm up. “That’s actually the first time I’ve heard that.”

“So, who’d you write it about?” he asks. He partially dreaded asking the questions. He didn’t want to picture her ever describing someone that wasn’t him in such a beautiful context. “C’mon, you can tell me, what am I going to do? Tell my ghost friends.” 

Y/N giggles. “I--uh… Someone?” It comes out more as a question.

“Name?” 

“Why you want to know so bad, huh?” she blurts, with a smirk. “Why? You jealous?” She knew he wasn’t, but the thought made her whole body catch on fire.

Luke, surprised by her sudden cockiness, sends her a smirk right back. “Well, what if I am?” 

She scoffs. “Yeah, right,” she murmurs.

He tilts his head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She gives him a ‘really’ look. “Luke, c’mon…” She waits for him to say something like ‘you’re right, I’m joking’, or anything along those lines, but he just stares back with the same intensity she has.

“What do you want me to say?”

The question lingers in Y/N’s mind. I want you to say you like me. That’s what she wanted to tell him, that’s what she wanted to hear. “Nothing,” she mumbles. “Absolutely nothing.” 

He cracks a smile. “Just tell me!” After that he keeps repeating it over and over again.

“I want you to say you like me!” she shouts. 

His eyes widened, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable, he seemed in awe of the situation. “Why are you shouting?” Y/N’s mom asks, rushing in.

“Because I’ve gotten ten assignments turned in!” Y/N cheers trying to ignore Luke giving her a big smile, seriously, it’s scary how wide it is. 

“I like you too,” he whispers, her heart dropping. It’s like he couldn’t contain his little secret for any longer, but now it leaves Y/N impatient as her mom stares down at her on the bed. 

“That’s good! she assures. “Though it would’ve been better if you turned them in on time, but at least they’re in.” Y/N nods at her mom's backhanded compliment. “Anyways, dinners ready.” 

“Ah, yes.” Y/N shuts her laptop. “I forgot humans have to eat.” 

“Can I stay?” Luke asks.

“In my room,” she answers.

“You’re going to eat in your room?” her mom asks.

“Can you?” Luke perks up, hearing it. “Just say you want to finish your work, because you’re already in the groove, or something!” His eyes are pleading Y/N to stay with him, leaving her almost speechless.

“Y-yeah,” she stutters. “There’s a few more things I want to do before I call it a night, and I’m kind of in… ‘The Groove’,” she discreetly ridicules the boy next to her that’s invisible to her mom's eyes.

“Okay, just come down when you’re ready.” 

Y/N sighs of relief when she hears the door shut quietly. “So, you like me?” She was slightly breathless from the beautiful boy so close to her.

“Yeah,” he responds. His eyes didn’t meet hers though.

“You don’t seem sure,” she judges. 

His gaze locks with her. “I’m just nervous,” he reveals. “You make me really nervous. I thought you hated me just an hour ago, and now…”

She gapes at him. “I thought you hated me!” 

“That’s what Julie said,” he adds, pointing towards her.

Y/N jolts her body away from him. “You spoke about me with Julie?” As if she summoned her, Julie’s contact lights up her phone. “Hello,” she answers.

“Is Luke over there?” she asks. “Sorry! Hi, it’s just the boys were worried.” Y/N sneaks a glimpse towards Luke who can’t seem to take his eyes off of her, it’s like he’s trying to memorize every single part of her body. 

“He’s not, but I had a question for you.” Luke looks at Y/N confused as to why she lied. “Did you guys talk about anything earlier? He was acting weird, and you know with you being good friends with him, and us being the best of friends, I wanted to know.” 

“Oh my God!” she exclaims. “He was out of it the entire rehearsal after we told him you weren’t going to be there, and he was all worried, and concerned, it was adorable. Dude is so in love with you it’s insane. I mean even Reggie and Alex were talking about how he talks about you, and how he stares at you, and how he’s so invested in you. I’d say he’s obsessed.” 

Y/N lets out a victorious hum. “Good to know, well, I’ll let you know if I see him--oh wait, he’s right next to me, thanks for the info.” Y/N hangs up.

“She told you about rehearsal didn’t she?” He plays with the rings on his fingers, a nervous habit he picked up.

“Yep.” Y/N pops the ‘p’. “She said you’re obsessed with me.”

“Not true!” he argues. “Sort of…” He pouts. “Not in a creepy way though!” He tries to grab her hand, but it goes straight through. “This will be interesting.” 

“Yeah,” Y/N agrees. “But, we’ll get through it…” 

Luke then learned one thing about himself that night. He was touched-starved.

[jetzelda]

How Deku Became Something to be Feared

A Crossover between the Magnus Archives and My Hero Academia Centered Mostly around The Distortion Michael and Midoriya Izuku May possibly continue spoilers for anyone not through we Season 3 of the Magnus Archives or not to the Hosu Incident in My Hero Academia. Also filled with some World Building Liberties/Headcanons. Apologies for any and all grammar mistakes and and spelling errors, this ended being a binge write. There is some swearing towards the end.

Midoriya Izuku was not a stupid child by any means. Nearly every adult he had ever interacted with would agree with that assessment. But every account by any adult was always followed by an annoying add on. “For a quirkless child.” “But he’s quirkless.” “If he wasn’t quirkless.”

Midoriya Izuku learned very early on in life that “quirkless” was a label; a diagnosis that would follow him his whole life, and define every aspect of it, whether he liked it or not.

It was the label that would keep him from his dream of being a hero that saved everyone with a smile. It was a label that would ultimately lead him to the end of his life as Midoriya Izuku.

Despite his general understanding of his situation, he could not understand the Why. He fundamentally understood that anything with a description had a Who, a What, a When, a Where, and a Why. And perhaps sometimes even a How. The Who was Midoriya Izuku. The What, a Quirkless little boy. The When and Where was six years old and Musutafu respectively. The How was a little more fluid, but probably the easiest answer was born to Midoriya Inko, or one could look up a book on human reproduction if they were feeling particularly scientific or randy. But the Why was the question that haunted Izuku’s life. Why was he a quirkless little boy? Why him? WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWHY?

It echoed in his head like a song with no melody. Growing in frequency every waking day. Every hit he endured, every well meaning but ill worded question or comment, Every step he took, Every breathe he took. It got to the point teachers reprimanded him for his lack of attention. He was so bothered by this why he could think of nothing but WHY? Clearly this question needed an answer, lest it utterly consumed him. So he began to research.

He started philosophically. Izuku would argue he was a good little boy. He did everything his mother and teachers told him too. He even did everything Kaachan told him too (Walk behind me!), well, unless it involved bullying other children. If Izuku was a good boy, this couldn’t be punishment, right? But why?

Then he shifted to biology. Genetically speaking, both his mother and father had a quirk, a minor telekinesis and fire breathing quirk respectively. Both sets of grandparents, may they rest in peace, had variations of these quirks, also minor in nature. He had a healthy genetic tree of quirks. But he did not have a quirk. Science would argue the answer was mutation. He was a mutation. But then why was he a mutation? Not a single book would answer Why?

Research of a more unorthodox nature would led him towards the origin of quirks, genetic mutations, even mutations via external sources, such as radiation. When he was getting desperate, he stretched his research into religion, past lives, sins. Not a one satisfactorily answered. WHY?

Izuku was so single-mindedly focused on his research, he was unaware of the dominoes falling around him. Bakugou Katsuki immediately noticed the boy he had proclaimed his quirkless nerd drifting away. It was subtle at first, merely Deku sitting out of their games, face obscured by textbooks nearly larger than his head. On principle alone, Katsuki would never be the one to invite him to play. It was the nerd’s job to ask Katsuki if he could join, not the other way around. So Katsuki never asked, but he did keep an eye on the nerd, because he was a quirkless nerd who would always need Katsuki to look out for him. Katsuki was reassured that the nerd was fine, though he was drifting, because Deku continued to smile. He smiled when he read, when he walked, when he talked to, well, anyone really. That stupid, bright (possibly somewhat adorable) smile. To another six-year-old that had trouble articulating his own feelings, it looked normal. Katsuki didn’t realize at the time that it was that disarming smile that made him turn his back and allowed Deku to drift away.

Midoriya Inko was a loving mother. She loved her son, Midoriya Izuku, very much. He was an absolute angel, always on his best behavior. The only thing she didn’t know how to do, was take care of her brilliant child who was deemed born with a handicap. Fundamentally she knew being quirkless was not actually a handicap. There were plenty of quirkless jobs in the world, or rather, jobs that didn’t require a quirk in any capacity to complete them. But to society, quirkless was somehow a devastating handicap. She was next to Izuku nearly every time someone spoke one of those well meaning, but ill worded comments. “For a quirkless child.” “But he’s quirkless.” “If he wasn’t quirkless.” For what was essentially a single mother raising a handicapped child in a bigoted society, she was doing what she believed was her best. And perhaps in another universe, it would be her best, with the best possible outcomes. In this universe, she read all the signs wrong. When Izuku started spending less and less time at home, she assumed he was spending it with friends. When he continued to bring home large books from the library, she thought he must be a clever boy, trying to make up for his lack of quirk. She believed her baby was adapting to his situation better than she was. So, she threw herself into her work, ensuring she would have the money to support them, and anything he could possibly need. She of course, made time for him for dinner every weekend night, a ritual he took part of with a smile. She never realized this was not the kind of support he needed. So further he drifted.

As for his school, well, the less said about them the better. The students were young and ignorant, and the staff wholly unhelpful towards a child different from all the others.

So further did the little quirkless boy drift from everything that could define his life. And the further he did drift, the more attention he did draw, but not from any mortal eyes.

The little, lonely, clever quirkless child had potential. So much potential. Surely he would transition quite nicely. However, as time went on, a few slid their interest off him. The boy seemed to have no interest is enclosed spaces, any kind of filth, or meat. And the other child drove him far from chasing, destruction, or flame. The other interested parties maintained a continued surveillance, before slowly peeling off one by one. The boy’s continued fixation twisted into a hungry desire to Know marked where he belonged quite clearly.

 Midoriya Izuku never found his Why. It was confounding and disappointing and utterly frustrating. It left him feeling hollow. Like all his will and drive had been depleted in his search and without the answer he could not recharge. It was noticeable enough to his Mother that she took a couple days off work spend time with him. It was on one of these days with his mother, out on a shopping trip, he happened to pass a television with a commercial of All Might. It was a rerunning the scene he played on repeat when he first learned he was quirkless. A hero, shouldering the weight of the world with a smile. It gave Izuku pause. He may never truly know Why. But watching All Might flaunt his quirk with a smile, sparked a new desire in Izuku. Did he need to have a quirk, if he Knew everything there was about quirks?

Thus, started Izuku’s chronicling of quirks.

It was simple at first. Quite easy to mistake for hero fanboying. Notebooks neatly lined a shelf in his room, each meticulously labelled. His handwriting improved far beyond that of a six-year-old with his constant writing. It became the new normal to see Midoriya Izuku with a notebook or two tucked under his arm and an equal number of writing utensils tucked behind his ears. If there was a Hero fight within a reasonable amount of distance for a small child to travel, he would be there. He wrote, and recorded, and theorized and discerned. He filled that hollow feeling with as much knowledge of quirks he could funnel into himself.

But somehow, it wasn’t quite enough. He couldn’t put his finger on his, but it just wasn’t what he sought. Somehow, just observing, and recording, and connecting the dots in his own head, which were all skills he became quite good at, were not enough. That hollow feeling remained. And for every bit of knowledge he attempted to fill it with, it continued to grow.

It was a mundane Saturday evening, at his place of quiet for his scribbling among the towers of garbage on Dagobah Beach, when he realized that his was not just hollowness. He had visited a hero fight every day that week, with little satisfaction. Class dragged on each day like drying paint, with him opting to make notes and theories instead of listening. He sat alone in class. He left class alone. He did everything alone these days. It was that Saturday, during one of these lonely walks, that he passed the playground. It was during his passing that he overheard a conversation from two children. They were likely preschool age given that their topic of discussion was their quirks. Both had just recently manifested their quirk. One had the ability to change the color of their body’s cells, and demonstrated it by vividly cycling through the color wheel. The other had a quirk that allowed them to grow their teeth at a rapid pace, forcing each to sharpen and enlarge, until finally falling out of the child’s head, only to be quickly replaced, much like a shark. Izuku remembered all those details quite precisely, and only those details because the conversation quite suddenly stopped. It took Izuku moments to realize it had ceased because they were staring at him. He had no memory of crossing the playground to the children, but there he was, hovering behind them and fixated quite attentively on the children, or more accurately their subject of conversation. When he actually focused on them, he observed that their wide eyes were locked on his form, slightly larger than theirs, with what he easily recognized as fear. And while he logically knew he should feel guilty or concerned in some manner, he merely felt satisfied.

Izuku apologized, and left the children on the playground. Which brings us to the beach. His notebook lay at his side with his pencil neatly on top. He was mentally sorting through this new information. The beach was not as silent as it usually was. He could hear teenagers practicing quirks on the piles of garbage in the distance. He paid them no true mind though. They were irrelevant when compared to his thoughts. Somehow that verbal communication had filled his hollow feeling more than his quirk observations and notes ever had. Yet, as he also contemplated it, he felt a deeper pang in that hollowness. Something that wasn’t just hollow, but also aching, with want, with need. Something only verbal information directly from the source satisfied.

And, as Izuku’s head turned to track the sound of a teenager stumbling into his solitude, laughing up until the moment he spotted Izuku, the feeling identified itself. Izuku slowly rose to his feet with a grace he never had before. He could feel the smile curling upon his lips as he approached the teenager with feral, instinctive purpose. A sickly green light began to cast over the garbage around him, and upon the face of the teenager, replacing the color that face was rapidly losing. The wide eyes, the slight tremble of limbs, and the cold sweat on his brow was a sweet taste, but Izuku wanted to satisfy the Hunger.

His many Eyes were fixed upon his prey, and that cherub smile of his spoke. “Tell me about your quirk.”

 The first was an appetizer.

The second was satisfying.

The other three? They were a scientific method.

The last one was interrupted. “A Baby.”

 Time is both a simple, linear concept while also an infuriating mystery that confounds the mind. Humanity tacks as many number and concepts and labels upon what they perceive time to be to soothe their need to harness and understand it. But it never brings them any closer to understanding time.  Why time feels longer to children than adults, or why doing nothing drags on but doing everything speeds up. For all they attempt, they always, in the end, admit defeat by tacking on the white flag of ‘It’s all in your head’. Which always and inevitably brings it into the domain of the Spiral and its Avatars.

The purpose of that blurb about time, is to bring some understanding to the Spiral and its Avatars’ abilities to manipulate, confound, and utterly ignore human concepts of time. It is why one Avatar of the Spiral, who was once known as Michael Shelly but continues to be known as Michael for the ease of explanation upon inferior minds, could be over one hundred years in the future slinking through the streets of Japan when merely yesterday he had been threatening the life of the Archivist. If he so desired, he could at this moment go back to yesterday and follow through with his threat a mere hour after making it, or perhaps even minutes prior to making it. But he did not desire to do either of those things.

Even if he was an avatar of insanity, insane weaving of his thread through his own timeline would likely have consequences upon his own existence. Nor did he desire to kill the Archivist, currently. Plus, the Spiral seems to desires the continued existence of the Archivist, enough to punt this particular Avatar of its out of the limelight and replace him with the Avatar formerly known as Helen Richardson.

If there were any human emotions left in this being that wears the name Michael, it may have been offended by the conclusion that it was distracted (ARCHIVISTGERTRDEJONLOOKATME). But fine. It would do as expected. It would continue on as it once had, luring prey through its doors to feed, while what wore the name of Helen got to play with the Institute.

Which explained why the Avatar wearing the name Michael stalked through this future of human evolution, in a small country foreign to what was once Michael, and hunted, for lack of a word not associated with another Entity, seeking to satiate its hunger. And also where it discovered, well, something new.

It very nearly passed the beach, dismissing it as Filth’s territory, when it felt something most decidedly not Filth. It made a hum, of what could be considered interest. A step through the yellow door, opening out of a mound of trash brought it closer. There was quite literally a trail of bodies. Adolescent human males, pale, wide eyed, and gazeless. The only sign of life was their quivering. It followed the trail to just around another pile of garbage, where he found “A Baby.”

The head of green haired whipped its direction so fast, if it were another the head may have snapped right off. Luminescent green Eyes covered the skin like glowing freckles, each fixated upon the Avatar of the Spiral. The Baby dropped its prey, another human adolescent, in the same state of the one Michael walked over. A smile was fixed upon its face, similar in nature to the Distortion’s, but obviously less unnatural on a human face. But that was all that was on the face, the smile and the eyes. It (or perhaps it was still currently a he?) very slowly tilted its head to the side, reminding the Spiral’s Avatar of a curious animal. A cat, or perhaps a puppy.

The Spiral didn’t particularly like the Eye, what with its interfering Avatars. Yet nor did it hate it though, for hating what one is connected to usually proves fruitless in the end. What was once Michael, if it still had human emotions, perhaps would admit to a fondness to the Eye’s previous Avatars, perhaps like a dog being fond of its toy, or a human infant pulling another’s hair.

But this was a new Avatar. A brand new, hardly marked Avatar that seemed to skip the indecisive, “should I human or should I become?” stage straight into Becoming. A Baby Avatar that was utterly unafraid of the Avatar of the Spiral before it.

The smile upon the distortion’s face twisted and curled. “HoW InTErestING.”

 The interruption distortion was frankly hard to describe. Izuku? could both see exactly what it was, yet could not see it beyond its human suit, for if heit attempted to focus, it would shift and twitch before hisits eyes, as if heit was looking at a glitched program, or perhaps a fuzzy video that attempted to rewind and fast-forward simultaneously. It was painful, both on hisits eyes trying to perceive it, and hisits mind trying to comprehend it. What heit could make out of its human suit was what appeared to be a very tall man, towering over him, with long hair that looped and curled like spirals. The body was too thin though, too angular, with too many joints and too many bones, especially in the hands; Long, thin hands that were almost the same length of his torso, but ended in points. At least, that’s how it looked when heit looked at it when heit focused. When heit didn’t it looked quite normal.

Hisits hands released the face it was cradlinggripping holding. The teenager foodpreyknowledge collapsed to the ground. Heit tilted its head in an unconscious human motion as it analyzed the not human before himit. Heit Knew it to not be human, in the same way heit knew that heit was also not human. Not anymore. Which probably explain why hisits mind was still trying differentiate correct perceptions.

The other’s face, which was a perfectly mundane face, though perhaps with a smile that didn’t fit it when heit didn’t focused upon it, seemed to blur and morph. The eyes were sickening colors that clashed and seemed to swirl into an endless spiral. The mouth twisted and cracked and curved into a jagged, dangerous looking shape, that heit recognized to also be a smile. “HoW InTErestING.”

Even the voice grated on hisits ears and mind, somehow sounding wrong or false, yet clearly being heard and processed.

Hisits smile never faltered. “How so?”

Laughter that sounded less real than the voice echoed in and out of hisits head. “i HaVe NOt beeN prESenT foR tHe bIRth of a BABY AVATAR beForE. MereLY PerIpheRAllY pReSent DurING theiR BeCoMINg. BuT YOu Are quiTE pOsSiBLY the mOSt BABY i HavE EVer WiTnEssED.”

The way it called himit a baby was neither seductive nor condescending. It was factual. Whatever Heit was now, was in fact, the most juvenile form. A baby.

“An Avatar.” Hisits attention drifted to the many glowing green eyes upon hisits arms, and chest. Heit could perceive more than see that every inch of hisits uncovered skin was covered in the eyes, like glowing, swarming freckles. Or possibly more like Fireflies swarming under his skin. Except that would be the wrong domain, wouldn’t it? “An Avatar of the Eye.” HEIT KNEW. He tilted his head the other way, allowing his smile to stretch. “An Eye to your Spiral, yes?” Heit offered with a bit of cheek.

The air around himit shrieked and screamed with that distorted laughter. The smile upon hisits face was a near match to the one on the Distortion’s face.

“i AM quiTE cErTain I wiLL lIKe YOU.”

 He decided, for the purpose of his current identity, that he would remain a He for the time being, and that he would also continue to wear the name Midoriya Izuku until it no longer suited him.

For the purposes of feeding though, he preferred to think of himself as Deku. The once cruel moniker felt more comfortable to him now than it did before. The Distortion, that offered him the name Michael, found it amusing.

He instinctively knew that he was juvenile and vulnerable currently, and that other Avatars might find him more akin to food or easy prey rather than another acknowledge him as Avatar. Michael, however seemed to deem Deku under his wing, so to speak. After introductions and a long talk, half of which Izuku spent Knowing (Because apparently that word had a whole new meaning) which were lies or truths, Michael seemed to find him utterly delightful, claiming him to be far more clever and aesthetically pleasing than previous Avatars of the Eye. Izuku believed that was Its roundabout way of calling him cute? They talked beyond nightfall, and it delivered him home through a twisted yellow door just as he Knew his mother was going to phone the police. It left with a promise to take him hunting again soon.

It felt far more mundane than it probably should have, all things considered.

He soothed Midoriya Inko’s concerns with an incomplete set of truths: he was at the beach, became hungry, and lost track of time. And that was that.

Life continued on in a manner similar to that of before (Was there ever a before?). He went to school and avoided everyone that was not his mother. And he smiled. He seemed to suddenly fall off everyone’s radars. No teachers called on him. No classmates bothered him. Every single one seemed to stop looking at him. Not even Bakugou Katsuki. Izuku was uncertain if this was his own abilities, or Michael’s. Either way, he didn’t really mind. It was almost a week later when he felt Hungry again. He was deciding what to do about it at the end of the school day when he spotted the twisted yellow door, sitting next to his classroom door as if it belonged there. But he Knew better. His classmates passed it as they exited the room, but not a single one of their eyes strayed to it. It made it much simpler for him to exit it through it unseen.

The hallways beyond the door were nauseating. They couldn’t decide what colors to settle on around him, nor were they sure if they should be lined with pictures of infinite images or endlessly reflecting mirrors. The hallways seemed quite confounded by him. Michael stood in the center, with a spiraling smile and giggles that sounded like glass shards rubbing.

“i Am UNcerTain iF anYonE hAs pASsEd THroUgh UnAfRAId beFOre.” It revealed like a child unveiling an important secret. It offered one of those long, spindly hands to him

Izuku hummed thoughtfully, carefully wrapping his small hand around three of Michael’s long, dangerous fingers. “That seems unlikely doesn’t it, with us being what we are. However, to say something like that is impossible seems equally as unlikely. I hardly think I’m the first other Avatar to pass through. Certainly a former Archivist has. I Know that. I Know a lot of things lately. But he wasn’t quite as finished as I am, probably he had more ties to humanity than he thought while I had less ties than I thought. Which is a tangent conversation really, what I’m trying to say-“ Izuku babbled as if his words were rushing out of a faucet. Michael smiled that spiraling smile, and listened to the fascinating new Baby as it guided him through the twisting halls through another door. Certainly an odd friendship by standards of avatars of fear, and yet one that worked.

Little 8-year-old Izuku the Baby Avatar of the eye, thrived under the twisted care and guidance, from the Avatar of the Spiral. They had a routine they both enjoyed. Whenever Izuku grew Hungry, he would allow Michael to spirit him away through a twisted yellow door. Their destination? Literally anywhere. Izuku got to see nearly every city in Japan, and at least the capital of every country in the world. Izuku could understand and replicate every known language after those visits, at least, every known language used in the cities. Izuku would draw them in with his baby face. Singles or couples, but never groups more than three anymore. Too much attention directed towards missing groups. It took several failures, to the great amusement of Michael, for him to figure out how to Feed in shorter bursts instead of completely emptying a head (Only one of those teenagers from Dagobah Beach woke up). He found that not emptying his prey was less filling and required more frequent Feedings. When Izuku was done Feeding, he would lure them into the Twisted doors for Michael. It was very effective and satisfying.

Over the years, they made more games of it. Who could usually lure someone to the door first (Usually Michael, because he’s had more experience and he cheats by moving the doors)? What secrets did that shifty woman over there hide? What would happen if these two men who hated each other were forced through the doors? Or how much chaos could this new information wreak? (The last two were usually Izuku’s favorites). Izuku knew logically that as Avatars, especially Distortion, they had little use for emotions anymore. But Izuku would observe himself and Michael to be very happy with their arrangements, and whenever Izuku suggested something particularly deranged or chaotic, he Knew Michael was proud, thought It would never identify that.

The crossed trails of other Avatars before. Izuku had never seen one in person yet, Michael got odd when they crossed the trails, spider web lined alleys, smoldering ruins of buildings. It would guide Izuku in the opposite directions. Izuku Knew It was wary of allowing Its Baby to meet another Avatar yet. Izuku felt a burst of warmth in his chest when he Knew Michael saw him as Its instead of just another Avatar.

When Izuku’s body finally reached 13 years old, Michael deemed him old enough to feed alone. Izuku might have found that disappointing, if he didn’t Know that Michael did have other interests. He Knew Michael had a connection that was not of the here and now, despite Michael never explaining it. He smiled at Michael and wished it luck on its closure. He had never seen Michael flee before, and laughed himself silly when the slam of the Yellow Twisted door nearly shook his room into ruins.

These were the events that led to Izuku wandering alone in Yokohama. More specifically, he was following a shifty looking man through the back alleys of Kamino Ward. Shifty looking humans usually held the best secrets, crimes, attempted-villainy, the like. True villains were aloof or confident, no need to fear discovery of their secrets because they were fully devoted. The shifty-looking were the best because they constantly looked over their shoulders in fear of discovery. This man was doing just that, and every time, he saw Izuku smiling at him.

Izuku Knew he was being led to a hideout. The man was planning on getting someone more important to deal with Izuku before the brat ratted them all out. He believed Izuku to have some kind of mind reading quirk. It was really very amusing. Michael would get a kick out of the paranoia too.

It was two more alleys before Izuku grew bored of the stalking. It was less fun without Michael. “Don’t you want to talk to me?” The compulsion forced the man to freeze. He stiffly turned towards the Avatar, a mingled look of comprehension and terror washing over his features as Izuku stepped closer. The many glowing Eyes opened, bathing the space in their sickly green light. At 13 he was taller now, but he still reached up to grasp the man’s face and pull the man’s eyes down to his own level. He smiled. “Don’t you want to tell me all your dirty little secrets?”

The man sobbed as he spoke, but it was still perfectly clear to Izuku. This man was the lowest of the food chain. He provided quite a lot of money to the organization claiming the name The League of Villains, and in return a great number of his business competitors dropped off the grid. The man was thoroughly boring really. However, the League sounded interesting. Perhaps a cult? Izuku Knew some other Avatars hung around cults, mostly for entertainment, but sometimes for food.

Both being quite young and the Avatar for the Eye made Izuku infinitely curious. And Michael’s continued redirection from the existence of other Avatars only served to compound that curiosity.

Izuku forced the location of the League from the driveling man, and dropped what was left in the alley, feeling full and Knowing the man was going to drive himself mad with the knowledge he spilled the League’s secrets, and take his own life before they could retaliate. Izuku’s Eyes closed and he walked away.

Izuku quite easily navigated his way to the side alley where the bar was nestled. He opened the heavy door silently. It was a bar, simple and plain. With tables, and a bar, and barstools. Izuku was somewhat disappointed at the mediocrity of the League’s supposed hideout. He stepped up to the bar and took a seat on the stool. No one was around. He hummed and knocked on the counter. “Hello?”

A portal of pure inky darkness wavered into existence behind the bar. A person stepped out, wearing a suit that seemed to imply masculine over feminine. The body though, was completely comprised of an inky, amorphous smoke with two glowing yellow slits for eyes.

Izuku was fascinated.

The smoke blinked at him. He smiled widely back. “The…ah, bar is not opened yet.” The smoke’s voice was definitely masculine. The smoke continued its billowing, with no indication of a mouth anywhere upon it. “I am also quite certain you are too young to partake in drink here.”

Izuku hummed, drumming his fingers on the bar rapidly. His foot tapped against the bar as well. He still smiled. He Knew it was confusing and making the other uncomfortable.

Stomping flickered his attention briefly to the stairs as an older boy tromped down them. Pale hair, scars, wrinkles, cracked lips, dark clothes. Odd gloves that only covered some fingers, likely a touch-based quirk requiring full five finger contact for activation. All catalogued in seconds and pushed to the side. The smoke infinitely more fascinating currently.

Was he perhaps the Dark’s? Izuku didn’t Know immediately, which wasn’t always unusual. He had also only met Michael, so he was uncertain how another Avatar would affect his Knowing.

“The fuck is a brat doing here?” The teen grunted in a cross voice, stomping over to a barstool. “Oi kid, beat it. You don’t belong here.”

The smoke almost sighed. “Shigaraki, I was attempting-“

“You’re interesting.” Izuku interrupted them both, uninterested in their dynamic together. His Eyes opened, illuminating the bar in a sickly green glow. “What the fu-!” “Tell me about yourself mister.” Izuku smiled.

And the smoke did, his body fluctuating in a manner that portrayed discomfort. With wide, glowing yellow eyes, the smoke poured its Knowledge out to Izuku. His alias was Kurogiri, he worked for the League of Villains, serving an all-powerful man by the alias of Sensei, acting as a caretaker and mediator for Shigaraki and anyone they meet. His quirk was his ability to create portals. On and on he went about facts, none of which were what Izuku really wanted.

Izuku was visibly put-out, lips pursed. “You’re not an Avatar then?”

Kurogiri’s head shakily jerked out a ‘no.’

“Mmm.” Izuku’s Eyes closed. Kurogiri slumped, nearly falling to his knees if he hadn’t caught himself on the bar. How dull. Izuku tried not to look as disappointed as he felt. He didn’t realize he was pouting quite openly. “I’d like a soda please.”

“i…W-What..?” Kurogiri stuttered out, voice trembling.

“I would like a soda please.” Izuku enunciated, as if Kurogiri had done something wrong instead having what could be considered a traumatic event. Annoyance may have bled into his voice.

“R-Right.” Kurogiri moved quickly, clumsily knocking things together, favoring haste over composure in completing the politely worded command.

Izuku stared silently ahead at nothing. His Hunger was satiated, but not his interest. He supposed the likelihood of another Avatar so close to him was slim. Their trails had always been few and far in between. Still disappointing thought. Michael was brilliant. But Izuku craved to meet another.

The stool beside him filled with a body, drawing his gaze. “That’s a freaky quirk you got there.” The teenager commented. His red eyes were trained upon Izuku with interest.

Izuku hummed, but didn’t correct his assumption.

“My name is Shigaraki Tomura.”

“I Know.” Izuku acknowledged. He took the drink immediately after Kurogiri set it down, startling the smoke man away. He always liked the carbonation, a burning, fuzzy feeling in his mouth.

Shigaraki laughed, a wheezing twisted sound. It was easier on his ears, and yet somewhst reminded him of Michael. Izuku turned his head slightly to give Shigaraki more attention. It seemed to please the teenager. “Is that another part of your quirk? Knowing things?” He probed.

Oh, Shigaraki was clever. Possibly more interesting than Izuku’s initial assumption. “Perhaps.” He alluded. “You seem interested in quirks.”

“Clearly not as much as you.” The teen countered. “You asked a lot of questions. Half I’ve never even thought of, but I think I’ll have Kurogiri test if closing a portal on a limb will sever it.”

“Did I ask that?” Izuku tilted his head. The information was in his head, so perhaps he did. Getting the information was usually point A straight to point B for him. He never paid attention how the line between the points look. “Perhaps I should record myself sometime.” He decided.

Shigaraki just laughed again. Then he grinned, with all his teeth on display and his cracked lips and deep facial lines distorting the smile. It wasn’t quite as sharp, but it was something that would look quite at home on Michael’s face. “I like you, kid.”

Izuku smiled back. “I like you too, Shigaraki Tomura.” He raised his glass.

“Kurogiri, bring our guest some food.” The teen decided. “I think he should stay for dinner and we should chat about a business arrangement.”

“That’s polite of you, but Kurogiri already Fed me.”

Izuku found, since his sudden Becoming, he quite liked Horror films. Especially Monster Movies or Creature Features. They didn’t satiate his Hunger by any means, nor was any of the information really useful from a factual stand point. He mostly enjoyed the first half, watching the monster slowly feed or torment. His favorite point, though, was always the moment where comprehension dawned on the protagonists, when they truly realized that what they were up against.

Izuku watched that comprehension dawn upon Shigaraki and Kurogiri. And while it seemed to shake Kurogiri more, having experienced it first had, it seemed to excite Shigaraki. Which in turn, excited Izuku.

“Were you feeding on Kurogiri?” The older teen sounded giddy, like a child with a new present. “Using your quirk on him-extracting that information, was that feeding you?” Izuku could sense that while Shigaraki understood the fundamentals, he didn’t truly Know that Izuku was Feeding instead of feeding, or What he was Feeding on. But the Avatar smiled and nodded.

Shigaraki broke into hysterical laughter, the kind that had him slumped over the counter, gripping it tightly, enough to make it creak. It was maniacal and beautiful. And while Shigaraki clearly Knew nothing of what swam under the surface of reality , Izuku thought the Spiral might like Shigaraki for an Avatar one day.

Shigaraki didn’t so much as compose himself as he reeled his hysterics back into his body. But Izuku could still see the hysteria upon his face when he leaned into Izuku’s space, grinning that twisted grin with that insane cleverness glittering in those ruby eyes. “I have a proposition for you, kid.”

 Deku became somewhat of an ally to the League of Villains. He allowed them the name Midoriya Izuku, but told them quite plainly that he’d rather be known as Deku, as he still had use of the home of Midoriya Inko for now, and would rather not draw attention there. He did still have leftover fondness for the woman, as he was once the Izuku Midoriya that was her son, and would rather allow her blissful ignorance for as long as he possibly could, but he did not relay that to the League. The almost clinic way he explained his position to them seemed to convince them that Inko and her apartment were a cover, not a home.

Their current arrangement was one of symbiosis. The League provided him with meals, and Izuku’s meals provided them with information. Izuku was quite fine with this set-up. He was an Avatar to the Eye after all, not the Hunt.

They would text him from a number he labeled in his phone as LV bar. Their texts were simple “we’ve got a meal for you.” They were possibly being a little over cautious, but if anyone looked through his phone, they were more likely to deduce he was meal testing for some kind of Love Bar, rather than an extracting information for the League of Villains.

Michael found it all very amusing when he popped into his room to check on him some nights later. After Izuku explained his new situation, Michael wiped a fake tear from his swirling eyes and proclaimed. “mY BABY iS gROwinG uP!” Neither commented on its use of the word My instead of The, but Izuku did press closer against Michael’s side for their trip for a meal.

The League didn’t actually call on Izuku that often. They decided he would make just as good of a ghost story as he would an extractor. They used him on the unlucky heroes they managed to capture, or on anyone they caught crossing the League. It typically ended up being 3-5 times a month, depending if they were lucky or if their victims were stupid, or even sometimes both. Kurogiri made himself as scarce as possibly during the feedings. Shigaraki watched every time.

Izuku decided to eventually introduced Michael and Shigaraki.

Izuku had yet to meet Sensei. Shigaraki explained, quite angrily, that Sensei had been severely wounded by Heroes, and kept himself remote and aloof, giving only orders and observing the Leagues proceeds from afar. Izuku would think him an Avatar of the Eye, if he did not Know that this Sensei was definitely not the Eye’s. So, he dismissed the matter of Sensei, for now.

Life carried on.

Izuku decided, for dramatic irony and why not, to apply to UA’s General Education course. He got in with no problems. He did, however, get a bit of entertainment when his homeroom teacher observed aloud with some befuddlement, that both Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku were vying for UA, for the Hero and General Education courses respectively. The entirety of the class, the teacher, and even Bakugou looked at Izuku, as if noticing him for the first time. Izuku almost laughed, but managed to just smile instead.

His graduation from middle school went almost exactly the same. The teacher read through the names, and seemed surprised to read Midoriya Izuku, as if forgetting he was also in the class. The only person unsurprised was Midoriya Inko, of course. Call it sentiment, but he could never find it in himself to abandon her. He did replace her son (Or was he what was left of him? He wasn’t sure). He continued to fill the role with a smile, and subtly shielded her from the part of reality he now existed in. He told her exactly as much as she needed to, to continue her belief that she had a perfectly functioning quirkless son. It was a little sad, but that wasn’t his problem.

And life carried on, only slightly more interesting than before.

He supposed the next truly interesting milestone, for him really, wasn’t until the Hero Course’s internships. The League attacking USJ was amusing, but unrelated to him as he had yet to inform the League which Highschool he chose. The Sports Festival was too loud for his tastes, and not nearly as interesting televised. No, for him, it wasn’t until the day he dropped in on the League unannounced, secretly hoping to unnerve Kurogiri. Tormenting the bartender may have become somewhat of a new game for him.

The day he entered the bar, it was empty, save for Kurogiri and Shigaraki. This was not an unusual occurrence, seeing as how it was a front for their hideout. Their reactions weren’t unusual either. Kurogiri shifted to the furthest end of the bar from Izuku. Shigraki’s face split into that manic grin, though hidden today by that severed hand he did enjoy wearing.

“Ahhh, Deku. Is this good timing? Or bad timing?” Shigaraki mused aloud.

Izuku tilted his head slightly while the rhetorical query processed. “You are expecting other company.” He Knew, as he took his usual place at the bar. Kurogiri was quick to serve him a soda before retreating once more.

Shigaraki laughed. “That never gets old. Yeah, we got company. Sensei wants us to invite Hero Killer to the League.”

Izuku absorbed the information with a detached interest. He never found serial murderers all that interesting. Maybe because they didn’t make very good meals. Too confident or psychotic for real fear. He sipped his soda and stared at Kurogiri, his more recent method of torment. Shigaraki snorted, but had learned this to be one of Deku’s signs that wasn’t interested in chatting. The elder teen left him be.

Exactly 20 minute later the door opened and shut once more. Izuku politely turned his attention away from Kurogiri and to the wall, to allow the League to Conduct his business. He was not at all interested in the Hero Killer.

However, no one in the bar spoke a word. Minutes passed, far longer than needed for people to size each other up. Izuku might have chalked it up to them all being over dramatic, if he hadn’t recognized the very distinct feeling of being stared at.

“Do you-“ Shigaraki tried to break the silence, but was interrupted with- “A Baby.”

Izuku’s entire body spun to face the other, not unlike the reaction he had to Michael many years ago. Izuku drank in the sight of the other man and instantly Knew. He was skinny but muscled. Black clothes that were well layered, yet still greatly exposed his arms and face with meager bandages for coverage. Izuku counted five visible blades, but Knew more hid on his person, in his clothes, his boots. The red scarfe and headband offset the ensemble ominously. He had mangled dark hair that was pushed far out of his face. So many features to catalogue, But all were irrelevant when compared to the crimson eyes fixed acutely upon Izuku in curiosity.

Izuku’s Eyes opened. He leaned forward with that wide smile upon his face. “Hello!” He chirped.  “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve only met one other before! I hope you don’t kill me immediately; I’d like to get to know you.”

 The last thing the man known as Chizome Akaguro, or the Hero Killer Stain, expected during this meeting with the League was to run across another Avatar. Much less a literal freaking BABY AVATAR.

And the Baby, like some kind of demented puppy, gave itself away by opening its fucking thousands of eyes(real mystery what fucking Entity this belonged to) like it was wagging its goddamn tail, and actually fucking smiled at him, like he wasn’t the Avatar of Hunt. Which he clearly fucking Knew, seeing as how he asked Stain to not immediately kill him.

The Hunt had no fucking lost love for most other Entities. In fact, it took pride in being the only Entity with having Avatars adept in the killing of other Entities Avatars. It was twisted. It was fucked up. And Stain was a part of it.

That said, Stain hadn’t actually killed any other Avatars yet. He was relatively young, by Avatar standards. Japan had nothing big brewing besides Heroes and Villains. At least, nothing Stain was aware of it.

He would, however, like to have been aware of the fucking Baby Avatar that sprouted somewhere in his fucking lawn.

Said Baby Avatar was fucking rocking on his stool, with the full attention of his wide glowing eyes on Stain. Eager like the goddamn puppy he resembled. Stain was proud to say he didn’t sigh. Or glare. Or anything outright rude. Stain crossed his arms. “How old are you?

The Baby Avatar hummed and cocked his head. “Midoriya Izuku is currently 15 years old, with his date of birth in two months.” He cocked his head to the other side. “I myself am approximately 7 years old, but all things considered that may be rather skewed.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Stain groused. “Aren’t you supposed to be exact with that fancy Knowledge and all knowing schtick?”

The Baby fucking giggled at him, like some kind of sneezing kitten. “I’m still rather new to this. I haven’t reached any kind of omniscience yet.” He reassured, as if his Eyes couldn’t fucking see his thoughts right now. “Annnnnnd, well, time through the Doors doesn’t really follow the rules, so who knows how many minutes could have been days for me?”

Wait. “Fucking doors?” Stain growled. “You’ve met a fucking spiral?” He was not jealous he wasn’t the Baby’s first meeting. Not. At. All.

The Baby’s fucking head bobbed. “Yeah, the Distortion, well, A Distortion found me, exactly 17 minutes after my Becoming.” His brow furrowed, somehow a little ‘v’ crease between those infinite eyes on his face. And somehow it was still fucking cute. “Well, maybe not exactly. I end up losing time when I’m feeding.”

There was so much he could unpack there. But he was mainly interested in- “Wait, so you’re fully realized?” He asked. He’d admit his tone was eager. It’s not everyday an Avatar skips the annoying toddler stage (The whiny am I human or monster stage) straight into the fully realized stage.

The Baby giggled again. “Not sure if I ever wasn’t. Or maybe Izuku spent his whole life Becoming. But regardless of befores of afters, I most certainly AM now.”

There was almost a vindictive certainty to the final bit that had Stain grinning now. He’d heard most the other of the Eye’s avatars were weak willed, dithering between Feeding, or other entities, or just down right annoying. This Baby was Feeding and reaching out to his betters. Who was he to deny a Baby that wanted to know better.

“You Hungry kid?”

The baby giggled “I could Feed.” He said, finally closing his Eyes. That smile stayed still. Stain wasn’t sure if that was a quirk from being Midoriya, or if the Spiral’s Avatar rubbed off on the kid. Either way, Stain didn’t mind much. It suited the demented baby puppy.

“C’mon, I’ve been itching for a Hunt.” The Baby hopped off the stool eagerly, and allowed Stain to loop an arm around his shoulders and guide him towards the door.

“Uhhh..” The brat with the hand on his face ruined his fucking moment with the Baby. “What about our meeting?”

“We’ll fucking meet after We fucking Feed.” Stain shot back on their way out. The villain brat wisely chose not to argue. Ta Daaaaaa. Might add to this prompt if my brain doesn’t shut up about it.

[avillainousmagician]

Speaking of fish, at the end of Primary School you always (pretty much) get a residential trip away at the end of the year as a last hurrah kind of thing. At my school, the P7s always went to York in May. The joys of living in a country made up of four countries. You can go to the next one down and it counts as exotic.

Anyway, obvs you have a lot of visits while there to various museums (my absolute fucking ELEMENT) one football stadium (Old Trafford - the boringest shit in the entire goddamn world) and we also went to the Sea-Life Centre.

Now, the bullying nickname that I had in Primary School was 'The Animal Department.' Because I was an undiagnosed Aspie so my being very knowledgeable about animals was seen to be an open invitation for harrassment. But that was from peers. Teachers pretty much always loved me. The odd one out was my P6 teacher who LOATHED me and my pals. As in, the top three pupils in the class. And she essentially told us that the reason was because we were the best in the class. It was ridiculous. (Maybe she'd like me now as the Least Successful Gifted Person from our year nowadays. Now I'm someone who needs to engage with Learning Support and everything!)

Now, the teachers who came on the trip were our class teachers, except one of the P7 teachers always had that P6 teacher go in her place. (I think because of her alopecia?) And during the trip said P6 teacher was weirdly overly nice to me and my above mentioned pals. She would come and tuck us in which I will always find Wrong given her handsiness with me in the changing rooms at swimming in P6, both of which really make my skin crawl now. Add to that the trauma of how she was to us the previous year - not an exaggeration, she had it out for us and it was a whole Thing that has a whole Story attached to it - and it was super duper uncomfortable.

So, on the day we went to the Sea-Life Centre, I was doing my usual thing of being The Best Mini Museum Guide that I usually am in most situations because I'm a human encyclopædia. There I was, telling my mates about the types of Reef Sharks when I here sniggering behind me. And who was it? Our fucking P6 teacher. Sniggering away because apparently a 12 year old girl knowing about animals is a hilarious novelty, /s.

At the end of the week, at the last end-of-day meeting-thing, the teachers gave everyone nicknames based on things that had happened during the week. And what did I get? Miss Sea-Life. I got a name from TEACHERS that was Far Too Close to the name people teased me with. And when it was announced my P6 teacher continued to laugh at me, telling me that it was funny. Funny that I was clever.

Now, if I had got that name purely because I knew what I was talking about, as in, if it had been as praise (à la how my wonderful secondary school Biology teacher was to me because I knew so much without having been taught it - he was always so happy with that whether it was In Class or on a walk or whatevs, plus he had no problem with the fact I was aiming for Art School rather than for a Bio Degree because he was The Best. Other teachers took you not wanting to do their subject posr-school Far Too Seriously) I would have been fine with it. I would have liked it, as the arrogant wee fuck I was. But no. It was, in essence, a 'HAH HAH, YOU AUTIST!!!!' type of ridicule. A joke because I knew things beyond my years, apparently. A joke because I was being supplemental to the info cards at the tanks.

And if there is something I hate from anyone, it's being laughed at for Knowing A Lot.

So, yeah, it's 16 years on from that. And it will always bug me. Because anything to do with that teacher will forever bother me. There are plenty things from childhood and adolescence that I don't give a shit about now. But all things to do with her I will forever be annoyed by. And creeped out by.

TL;DR people thought it was hilarious that I knew a lot about animals as a child and bullied me with nicknames that reflected that and it was extremely annoying then and makes me angry on behalf of child me now, looking back.

[elektra121]

Dear Yuletide Writer!

Dear Yuletide Writer!

It is this time of the year again and I’m very happy we both take part in Yuletide - and that I have you as my assigned author (or, as a pinch hitter)! You seem to be a talented writer and very giving person, and also to have quite good taste in fandoms - otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this, would you?

Now, here are some things about me: I am German (so feel absolutely free to write in German if you are able and want to!). I work as a teacher for biology and German literature and I love all things artsy and crafty. Which, of course, includes fanfiction, since it is both artsy and crafty. In order to help you find some inspiration and ideas for the story you’re about to write, I’d like to tell you some things about what I like and dislike and what I love about my fandoms. Here we go:

Likes: I like Happy Endings! :) Yay! Especially at Christmas. Really, I do. I honestly believe Happy Endings to be one of the things that made mankind tell stories in the first place. This world can be scary and mean and unfair and hard - so why not use our creative mind to create a different world that is peaceful and good and fair (in the end)? Don’t get me wrong, a Happy Ending need not be all sweet sunshine and sugary cupcakes and unicorns. From time to time, I enjoy a good darkfic, but especially at Christmas time I prefer something at least optimistic in tone. I hereby confess that I’m a hopeless idealist and romantic. (Although, I think, the Nibelungenlied may be a story that really is not made for a happy ending, so you absolutely can go darker with this fandom.)

While I appreciate some good humor, yet for some reason plain comedy isn’t really my cup of tea.

I like the characters in my fandoms! Very much. They are the cause I chose those fandoms for yuletide! And likely you like them, too. So show to me what makes them special, what they can do that no other person could, what drove their authors to tell us about them in the first place, and most of all, what you love about them! I’d love to read about the lesser known sides of characters - but that does not mean I won’t enjoy their established traits very much, too. It is both that makes them complex and life-like. I should add that I really am much more interested in the “good guys”, who - in my eyes, too often get disregarded in favour of “the interesting wicked guys”. It is my sincere opinion that the goodies can be at least as interesting.

What about porn? Yes, please - if you feel like it. Personally, I’m not so much into the technical details as in the feelings for the participants, the intimacy, the thrill, the thoughts, the small things, a touch of realism. And I much rather would have a story without any sexytimes than one with a scene that does not stick true to the overall vibe or has make you feel uncomfortable in writing. In case of kinkyness - if you can justify it in-character and in-story, this is absolutely fine! Maybe a little festish may work wonders to symbolize some deep-rooted feelings or wishes? (I believe, this could work quite well for the Kudrunlied…) Of course, if you do not like any of it, that’s completely fine, too! 

Speaking of which… Dislikes: As I’m sure you may have guessed from what I said already, I don’t like fics that include character death(s) and accurately described cruelty (physically or otherwise). I’d prefer the (main) characters to stay alive. At least at Christmas. Please  - do not let anyone die and please don’t make atrocities the point of your story. Otherwise I don’t think I’d be able to enjoy it.

What I like about the fandoms: Charité (TV, 2017) There is so much I like about this series - somehow it seemed to be a dream come true: all the loving research that went into the tiniest nerdiest details of medicine history (Virchow’s bureau, the notion that not everyone instantly bought the “illness is caused by little animals”-idea of Koch, injections being given into the shoulder, Behring using his own horse for research purposes etc. etc.), the charming aesthetics, the overall idea of a series about an important moment in medicine history, the nod to the crucial part deaconesses (women!) and Diakonie (the idea of Christian charity!) at whole played in the establishing of modern medicine! Being a biology teacher, I knew about most of the persons shown, yet had never had a chance to see and show them to my pupils this lifelike, even if of course the series is fictional! Also, it is great how so many diverse life styles of the Wilhelminian Era were shown… I’ve never seen anything the like before.

Here are some plot bunnies that you may or may not use: I'd love to have a "Chrismassy" fic - Advent and Christmas time at the Charité. How do the people we love from the series celebrate? How do they prepare for the season? Do the give or receive gifts? What do they love (or dread) about Christmas? Does it bring back memories or do they make new ones? Would like the mood to be light and warmhearted and festive in general, even if darker tones are inevitable, I think, given the time period and it being a hospital. Obviously, my greatest love is for Therese/Ida or Therese&Ida, but feel free to include as many people from the series as you like. I'm sure Matron Martha and Nurse Edith for example would lend themselves nicely to this. Or: Sister Therese is sent to a sanatorium - maybe there she comes to terms with herself, gets visited by Ida or meets another love interest – more or less a more optimistic, feminist version of the MagicMountain ;) Or solely some little getaway of her with Ida on a Sunday leave in Berlin.

Feel free to use as many characters from the series and make up as many OCs as you like! I would be especially delighted if Matron Martha makes an appearance.

Kudrunlied I really like the dynamics between the women of this epic. Especially Gerlint - Kudrun - Ortrun.

Gerlint  could have been shown so easily as simply the evil queen, but isn’t. The author calls her “she-wolf” and tells of her cruel deeds and plans on Kudrun, yet in the same instance, shows her as competent queen, dutiful wife and loving mother who may have deserved death, but not like this and not what happened to her body. I love the complexity in this! The relationship between Gerlint and Kudrun seems to have something of a hate-love, with not so little sexual undertones in the scene, where Gerlint plans to whip Kudrun by herself, with no one around. If you want to elaborate on this impression (not neccessarily this scene!),

And think of Ortrun, who seems to be the nicest person who ever lived! Caught between two stools, with her duty and love for her mother and brother - and on the other hand side her loyality and friendship (or is there even more?) for Kudrun. Comparing her to the other two women, she seems the weak one - but is she? She was the only one who dared to protest Kudrun’s ill treatment - even if only by crying in public.

(Also, Hildburg, the quiet, yet totally loyal friend – why is so so steady and persistent when everybody around her is not? From where does she takes her resources – in a situation as bad as hers is?   And how did Hartmuot perceive all this? He seems a knight in shining armour, a good man through and through - and yet he did not gain the one he loved.) Feel free to use as many people from the epic as you like. My favourite, I think, would be Gerlint, though. And I really would enjoy some femslash – although absolutely, this isn’t necessary, especially if it isn’t your coup of tea.

Not a person in the story (or maybe, in some way, it is): I really love how much this story is about the sea! Ships and crashing waves, castles that have windows that look out to the ocean, whole battles on sandbanks, longing for your loved ones on the other side of the great water, standing in the foam with naked feet, freezing and washing and living and loving by the banks of that wonderful, enigmatic, overwhelming, epic force of nature.

DSA – Das Schwarze Auge (The Black Eye – Pen&Paper Roleplaying Game)

If you are not familiar with this fandom (which is highly likely), it is something like „the“ German Dungeons&Dragons. And, sadly, because of its overwhelming mass of fantasy world folklore and history would not make for a good substitute fandom, I’m afraid.

In this world, I always felt most „at home“ in Nostria, one of the two „warring kindoms“. People from the Empire may look down upon that small swathe of land in the North, with its mostly unlettered people, prone to superstition and fatalistic resignation, doomed to war against their neighbor country forever. Yet it is the land of helpful, hard-working, resourceful people at the same time, persevering all strokes of fate.

And the story of „our beloved Queen“ quite touched me. Just imagine being a student learning for exams, then the news of an epidemic in the city – and the next thing you know is the information that everyone of your relatives is dead and – congratulations! you are queen! (And bound forever to this jerkwater country and shark pool of nobility, shattering all dreams of seeing the world and becoming a great magician.) I really liked her depiction in Carolina Möbis‘ „Mehrer der Macht“. And despite me normally not being a big fan of romance (sub)plots in novels, found the one of Yolande and Eilert highly believable… and highly sweet. There is no fiery passion, no brimming-with-desire-underneath, no epic declaration of undying love, no princessy behaviour, no shining armour. They are two adults that happen to share a lot of the same problems and ideals, understanding each other only too well, and their mutual love and fondness for each other stems from deepest respect for the other person. Even if, on the surface, they have so little in common, even if they disagree about a lot of things (or maybe, because of this) their love story was one of the most convincing ones I’ve read in my lifetime. So sad their fate will be some state of constant arguing, since this is Nostria and they are bound to the magic of the land.

I would love to have some happy little refuge for them both – some short time, somewhere, little getaways from the oppressing dutys of everyday politics for a queen and prince consort.  I’d like to see their fondness for each other (and, growing love) fleshed out a little more, sneak a little into how they settle into their private lives as newlyweds or how they stand their ground against the higher nobility and, Rondriane von Sappenstiel? How they negotiate their relationship, in private and in public? What do they love about each other? How do they tackle their quarrels?

Hm… and I think that’s pretty much all I can think of. :)

  May the Muses be grateful! Have fun writing!

Ute (elektra121)

[pennyfynotes]

8.2.18 // 4:30pm // school subjects and AP exams oh my

so i recently (ok not so recently i’m sorry super busy rn) got an ask from an anon about subject specific tips and ap exams. this is the masterpost i told you to look out for ;). there are no ap exams in college, but some of the stuff is still applicable. i did my best to be as comprehensive as possible and dump everything in one place. hope this is helpful! xoxo, m ps. guess where the actual tips are?    if you said “under the cut” then you’re right bc i’m predicable af

tips by subject:

languages (i took spanish): 1. flashcards are your friend. i don’t care if they’re digital (would recommend quizlet or studyblue) or paper, but they help immensely with either vocab or things like remembering literature.

2. charts are also your friend. conjugations giving you a hard time? write out a chart of the different tenses and the conjugations for each subject. put down some of the irregulars too.

3. acronyms/pnemonics are also also your friend. a lot of these already exist, you just have to go find them. i’m pretty sure i still remember what “wedding” stands for for the spanish subjunctive.

4. it’s ok to start over. it’s easy to start a sentence based on what you’d say in english. you’re doing fine until *bam* you hit that word/phrase you really need but you have no clue how to say it. whether it’s an oral or written exam, take a few seconds to think about it and, if you can’t figure it out, just back track. restart the sentence and rework it. better to do that than to lose all your time thinking of one word you may or may not know.

5. skirt around things. if you can’t remember how to say fridge but you really need to say it for something, just say “machine that keeps food cold” or something. it might sound silly,  but it gets the point across and removes the road block.

6. make a list. no, not a to do list. if there’s phrases you find yourself reaching for all the time, but you can never remember, make a list of them and their translations. it might be because its a phrase/part of a sentence structure you use a lot in your native language or whatever. make that list and drill just those few phrases into your head. it’s helpful

english/language arts: 1. proofread. i guarantee you’ll find a mistake, a sentence that makes no sense, or one that just sounds cringy. thank me later.

2. have a damn thesis. its ok if you just need to write and spit words/ideas out for a while to figure it out. but figure it out.

3. conclusion ~= introduction. for those of you who didn’t get the tilde, it means not. yes, they both tie your points to your thesis but they are not to same. do not just reword the same information in the conclusion. push your ideas just a little further. i usually like the push them a little bit outside the realm of what i talked about in my paper. for example, if i focused on the first 5 chapters of the book in the rest of my paper, i’ll expand the ideas to the rest of the book. or if i’m talking about female characters and focus on just one or two, i’ll use the conclusion to potentially connect it to another.

4. have favorites. pick a few fav transitions, sentence structures, and fancy vocab words. basically build a toolbox. this way you won’t have to think as hard when you want to “spice up” your work.

5. summaries only go so far. once you get to higher level english classes, there will be a lot of analysis of specific imagery, or wording, or dialogue. reading cliff notes is only going to give you the plot and none of this. if you don’t have time to read and you’ve been assigned a pretty standard english novel/play/whatever, take the time to look up some famous quotes or symbols. they’ll probably come up in discussion and this will help you look less unprepared.

6. have on question/comment ready. if your teacher/prof is into discussions and grades on participation, it’s handy to write down one (or a few) things. it’s easy to forget what you were going to say while you follow the discussion and it sucks to get docked points for not saying anything. even if it’s just a thoughtful question, jot it down.

history: 1. lol prob my weakest subject, just go see the apush (ap us history) section bc i don’t have much more for you than that.

science: 1. back to basics. i say it all the time, i’ll say it again. really understand basic concepts. they will come back. i’m serious.

2. pattern recognition. science problems are often times about recognizing patterns. once you identify the type of problem it is, even if you’ve never seen the exact one/something similar before, solving it becomes way easier.

3. make a recipe book. tied to the last one, but once you recognize a type of problem, you need steps to solve it. go through any practice problems you’re given to determine all the “types” of problems. once you’ve categorized them, make yourself a step-by-step guide on how to solve.

4. flashcards. you’ll have to know polyatomic ions or random biology facts. see languages tip #1 for more.

5. note your errors in lab. if you do something wrong, don’t just try to brush it under the table and forget about it. not that it’s a big deal, because its not, so don’t freak out. they’re just great opportunities to note sources of error. i mean obviously dont write in your lab report that you weren’t paying attention and mixed the wrong chemicals, but something like “we may not have waited sufficient time for the product to dry” can explain why you got 800% yield.

6. have a toolkit. kinda like a recipe book, but just a collection of straight facts that come up often. knowing common molecular weights and chemical properties (is ammonia acidic or basic?) will make things go faster. like i said earlier, polyatomic ions are also great.

7. brush up on some simple arithmetic. similar to the tool kit, this will just make things go faster. being able to quickly add things and calculate easy percentages (ex: 30%) will make things like hw and exams go faster. i’m of the opinion it’s always good to know how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide w/o a calculator (on paper, not all in your head)

bonus: math #5 and #7

math: 1. see science #1

2. see science #2

3. see science #3

4. see science #4. see a pattern here? you might wonder why you need to flashcard math, but it’s good for learning equations or the names of certain techniques. if the prof asks you to solve something using X technique and you don’t know what that is, that’s gonna pose a problem. also good for the unit circle (don’t get me started)

5. figure out your speed. this is applicable to most everything, but i find it most relevant for math. is it better for you to speed through the whole exam and then do it all again/check it over 2x? or for you to take it slow so you know you got everything right the first time? personally i use the first approach, but i’m a fast taker and prefer to have time to process between repeating problems instead of staring at it forever once and never looking again.

6. science #7. a lot of teachers will expect you to be able to do this.

7. go over the material a couple times. also applicable to everything. i find it’s easier to remember things when i know that concepts are connected. you might have learned X 3 weeks before Y, but if you go back over, you might realize they’re closely related. this will help you if you’re not sure on a test because you can reason through things using the connections you’ve drawn

tips by ap course (obv look at the subject above bc i will be giving *really specific stuff* here that i’ve gathered from experience. they’re also ordered by when i took them, sorry it’s not super logical but i didn’t want to forget one)

general ap course/exam tips: 1. practice exams. you need to be familiar with what will/will not show up. you don’t always need to simulate and real testing situation, but i’d recommend doing at least 1-2 that way. also *know how many questions they’re are you so can pace yourself!!!!*

2. college board is pretty good about giving topic breakdowns. use those. go through and figure out what topics you’re solid on and which need more work. the above tip is to help decipher what the topics actually mean bc it can be confusing.

3. give the free response a quick flip through. do the ones you’re confident on first.

4. make sure you know the policies/what you can bring. don’t want to forget something. also once our test administrator tried to stop us 10 minutes early, but we were on top of our shit and all gave her a death glare bc we knew when we were supposed to finish.

ap chemistry: 1. polyatomic ions and molecular weights. know them

2. chapter/section reviews (in addition to class notes) and how-to guides. my teacher made us make them and let’s just say your girl did *really* well (and i’m damn proud of that one)

3. do a quick skim of the free response. applicable to most exams but, the year i took it, they’d just remade and re-curved the exam and put *way* too many free response. like no one finished them. if that’s still the case, make sure you do the one’s you’re confident on. also, i did not get to like 3 questions and still got a 5. they may have fixed this idk. (sorry this is redundant but i wanted to give this ap chem exam specific info)

ap environmental science: 1. there is a lot of damn information here. i would use chapter outlines and pick out key terms, policies, and events etc. treat this like a history class.

2. for the exam, use common sense. most of the time, the most environmentally friendly answer is the right one. if you just have a general gist of the course and its topics, but don’t know a lot of details, go with your intuition and you should be fine. i didn’t have a lot of time to study for this one and this method worked for me.

ap calc bc: 1. memorize standard derivatives. power rule, sin and cos, chain rule. that’s important.

2. similarly, memorize standard integrals.

3. don’t forget +c for indefinite integrals. just don’t.

4. similarly, if it’s definite, don’t forget to evaluate at the end! super easy thing to do, but also super easy way to lose points if you forget.

5. if the integral looks complicated, that probably means there’s a “trick” involved. u substitution, integration by parts, trig substitution. something like that.

6. memorize some standard series’, operations, and types (arithmetic, geometric etc)

7. if you’re looking at a word problem, understand what is dependent on your variable and what isn’t (in other words, what’s a constant). for example, if it says the water flows into the barrel at 50 mL/s and flows out at 1/5 times the volume, that translate to F = 50 - (1/5)V. don’t make things more complicated by trying to write everything in terms of V (in this example). also, your equation might just be a constant term or just a variable term doesn’t have to be both.

8. know what your derivative is with respect to/what it really means. aka if your problem is talking about flow and volume, how are they related to each other? flow is the change in volume *with respect to time*. so if i differentiate volume with respect to time, i get flow. if i integrate flow with respect to time, i get volume. this also helps you make sense of word problems.

*disclaimer*: it is been 5 years since i took this class and i have taken quite a few math classes after. i apologize if i introduce anything that is a little irrelevant.

ap spanish language: 1. flashcard. like seriously. there’s gonna be vocab involved.

2. understand what’s asked. for the persuasive email. *be persuasive*

3. toolkit. i mentioned this before but this was probably the most useful for this class. our teacher gave us a bunch of fancier words to use instead of causar (to cause) because that was a word we’d need a lot. the one that still sticks with me 4 years later is fomentar. have a few alternatives for these kinds of super common words, a good greeting and closing for your email, and a set of good transitions. *make sure you know how to use them properly*

4. write stuff down during listening. you can either answer questions during the first listen, then take notes the second to catch stuff you missed or vice versa.

5. it’s ok to backtrack in the speaking. don’t let yourself get stuck and just not say anything. it’ll freak you out for the rest of the exam and will rob you from showing off what you know. also take notes of things you want to mention based off cultural knowledge of the situation related to the dialogue.

6. don’t zone out. with everything going on and all the stress, it’s easy to zone out (esp during the conversation). don’t do it or you’ll have a hard time responding and freak yourself out (again)

7. don’t lose your place in the convo! they give you a sheet that shows you how many times the other “person” will talk. i lost track and said goodbye one segment early. it was bad ok. all these conversation tips are from personal experience.

ap statistics: 1. know the different kinds of tests inside and out. know the differences and the conditions. if you’ve got that, you’re like 75% the way there.

2. be familiar with sample vs population. it’s a bit confusing, but take the time to understand.

3. ok sorry i really don’t remember anything else. this exam really isn’t that difficult (in my opinion), you’ll be ok.

ap physics c: 1. free body diagrams. understand how to draw them *and draw them*. they will carry you through mechanics. draw gravitational force, normal if there’s a surface, and then any other given forces.

2. basic equations. you get an equation sheet, but knowing the equations means you know the concepts and the relations between them. big ones are f=ma and the equations relating position (x), velocity (v), and acceleration (a). also friction f=uN.

3. *normal isn’t always the opposite direction of gravity!!!!* gravity is straight down. normal is perpendicular to the surface.

4. vector components. please don’t just add vectors. break them down into components and then add or you are so fucked.

5. get familiar with triangles. this will help with the whole component thing.

6. kirchoffs rules are so helpful. know them.

7. understand the relations between voltage/potential and current in terms of the properties of circuit elements. that means the equations for resistors, capacitors, and inductors.

8. know how to add in parallel and series. it’s important. also! if the circuit is drawn “weird” a good way to know series vs parallel is that parallel elements share two nodes and that series circuits only share 1.

9. sorry i kinda blocked out E+M bc i didn’t know what i was doing (or so i thought). i still got a 4 tho so that curve is generous.

ap us history: 1. chapter outlines. pretty self explanatory.

2. make a timeline. put important events, sentiments, policies, and presidents. if you can associate these things together into time periods it will be easier. most of the time, any one question (esp long response or whatever they’re called) will only focus on 1 time period.

3. sentiments are important. if you know nothing else, know these bc they will help guide you through questions by reasoning even if you know nothing else.

4. gilder lehrman (or similar us history summaries). these are tailor specifically to apush bc they are organized by period (i think that’s what they were called?). i actually fell asleep listening to these bc i didn’t have time to study. they were mildly helpful, but every little bit helps right?

ap psychology: 1. chapter outlines/flashcards. this course is based heavily on key terms and less so on larger concepts.

2. ok sorry i took this online i remember literally nothing except how annoying my teacher was and that the exam was easy. if you know terminology i think you should do fine.

ap biology: 1. there is a lot. go through all the topics and make sure you’re solid. start with the big picture, then think about narrowing down.

2. know how charts work. things like pedigrees, punnet squares, and evolution trees (that’s def not the right term). some of the exam will just be interpretation of this.

3. i am so sorry i remember nothing else.

ap spanish literature: 1. flashcards. title, author, time period, short summary, key elements (a line, character, symbol). this is *so helpful*

2. think about the works in relation to each other. you might be asked to compare them. even if they ask you to compare something on the reading list with something new, you’ll be familiar with the points you might talk about.

3. know the lit terms. more flashcards. associate them with a particular work if you can/need to.

4. don’t freak on the listening. a lot of the recordings are old and shitty quality. take a deep breath and try your best. know that the rest of the test takers (excepting maybe natives) are experiencing the same thing.

5. use that tool box. see general spanish and ap spanish lang.

this is so freaking long and i think the moral of the story is that i blocked out my senior year ap exams. i hope this was helpful and, if you have more questions, or want more stuff like this, let me know!

[hjertetssunnegalskap1]

Hi. For the director's thing, I'd love to know a bit more about the first chapter of Don't Leave Me (Alone) please. What made you decide to write it that way and how the more supernatural elements came about.

Ah, thank you so much for this ask! I ended up writing a far too long post about it. Kudos to anyone that actually reads it.

Don’t leave me (alone) was my very first Skam fic, well, my very first fic ever, so it has a special place in my heart. It’s hard to recall what made me decide to write it. I recall that the idea for the fic started out pretty simple, though. I wanted to write Isak and Even meeting as adults (but realizing that they had met before). I had an idea about Isak coming back to Oslo from his studies in Trondheim (yeah, I’m a psychic, I predicted Andem’s headcanon, lol). 

I wanted to write Isak a little lonely, lost and not knowing what to do next:  

He walks with long, quiet steps. There’s no reason to be quick, and he can decide which hotel to sleep in later. He stares at the pavement in front of him. Things are a bit shitty at the moment, he has to admit. Right now, he has no place to stay, no boyfriend, no job. Well, that isn’t exactly true; he has a possibility to work as a biology teacher at Hartvig Nissen, but he’s not particularly tempted.

Most people his age have jobs, houses and cars, and some even start to have kids. Whereas he has almost everything he owns in the backpack and suitcase. The thought gives him an uneasy feeling in his gut. It hadn’t been his intention to come home like this. He was going to come back with a good education, safe job and a bright future ahead of him. He had been close, too; he had studied at the university, and did well. But he never found a job that he wanted. On top of that, he hadn’t quite managed to make friends in Trondheim. He had made a couple of acquaintances, and had enjoyed some hookups, but still ended up spending most of his time home alone. It was like his whole life was on hold, waiting for something.

Yeah, “not knowing what to do” is a recurring theme in my stories, and I can’t really call it self insert, since I was determined to do what I did after high school (I was pretty sure I couldn’t make a living of writing and painting, so I chose something more reliable).

Anyway. I wanted Isak and Even to meet and have this sort of magical day that set everything in motion between them. Making a sort of one-night-stand to friends to lovers thing. When I tried to figure out where they should meet, I wanted to begin where their story sort of ended in the show, in Sagene church. I imagined that scene pretty clearly from the start, with Isak remembering meeting this unknown boy there, seven years ago, and then suddenly stumbling over the same guy, at the same place. 

For a moment, Isak almost wonders if the guy has materialized from his thoughts. That’s ridiculous, of course. It must just be a weird coincidence. 

Isak can’t look away. He just can’t. It is like those blue eyes hold him, and look right into him. His face burns, his heart races, all kinds of feelings tumble in his belly. His hands feel heavy, like they long to touch the other guy, making sure he is real. Isak struggles to shut his mouth and not look like an idiot.

I also imagined their moment in the church very clearly. I have done just what Isak and Even are doing here, once, crashing a funeral with someone I liked. And I guess that’s why the scene came easily to me.

But then the organ starts playing, and the little group of people in the front starts to sing another psalm. The sound of the melancholy hymn and the thin voices is oddly gripping: To live, it is to love/ the best your soul could reach/ to live it is in work/ searching richer goals. The words hit Isak hard, thinking about the lonely life of the deceased, and how it mirrors his own boring life.  

My translation of the hymn is probably awful, but I’m kinda pleased with how I made that scene come together. Isak has a strong reaction to it all, and leaves. 

The second part of this chapter is in Even’s perspective, and it was really interesting to write things in his point of view, both to explore his experiences of fears and doubts, but also to show his dorky side.

Now Isak turns around, facing him, and Even is forced to drop his hands from his shoulders. His looks still take Even’s breath away, just as they did in the church back when they were kids. Isak is still golden, but far from a boy, even if Even can see he still has sort of a boyish charm. Despite that impression, he is a man, with strong features and dark, green eyes. Even still feels the overwhelming want in his hands, the want to hold him, and the want to sense his skin. He has this excitement in his body and buzzing feeling in his fingers, something that makes him wonder if he is starting to become manic again, so he holds back.

Need to stay in control.

Isak meets his gaze for a moment, looking a bit embarrassed, and Even smiles at him.

– Okay, Even says, and tries to sound reassuring. – It seems like you are better now. But if it’s okay, I want to follow you to wherever you are going. Just to be sure you are all right.

Smooth. Even is quite pleased with himself.

I see now that even if the perspectives are altering, I do maybe write Isak’s perspective clearer than Even’s. Or maybe it feels like that in chapter one because Isak has more parts (in the second chapter Even has more). 

In the next part, we’re in Isak’s head again, and they have a stop at Hartvig Nissen. I guess it’s easy to notice that I picked locations from the show and built the story around it. The story more or less starts at the church, and they visit several of the sites, but just in a jumbled order. Of course, I did some changes, the cafeteria turned into a coffee shop and things like that. Also, while the locations are sort jumbled compared to the show, the scenes parallel the show pretty closely. It helped me find a structure for the story.  

As they have a chat in the schoolyard, they talk about before, and I get the opportunity to parallel some of the moments from the show that I love. Like this one:

Isak looks at Even. – Which school did you go to?

– Bakka.        

Even glances at him, and looks ridiculously hot with his swoopy hair and bright, blue eyes.

Isak swallows, but puts on a cocky face. – That figures, he smiles. – Elvebakken is the place to go for hipster movie makers or media wannabes, isn’t it?

– Ha ha. 

Even smiles at Isak, but there is something serious in his eyes. – I almost transferred to Nissen, actually, in my last year. That is, I got delayed for a year, and then I thought about changing schools.

– Really? Why?

Even`s gaze at him is thoughtful. – It’s a long story. I can tell you over a beer some time. 

I can tell you. Some time. Isak likes that little promise. 

– But I decided that I wasn’t that kind of person, Even continues.

Isaks looks at him. – What kind of person?

Even shrugs. – I didn’t want to be that kind of person who quits, I guess.

Sounds familiar, you say? If you have read more than one of my Skam fics, you know that I make parallels to this, over and over again. I just can’t seem to let go of it, for some reason. 

Oh, I must also comment something about the horrible dick jokes. As we know, Isak and Even has this thing where they do a lot of banter, and I knew that banter wasn’t something I wrote easily. So to help myself to add some humor between them, I added some silly dick jokes. I’m not sure about how well it worked, but I guess it helped me get over the fear of writing banter. 

Anyway. In the next part, Isak struggles to find a hotel and Even takes an initiative. And in the next and final part, they go to Even’s flat and things heat up. I don’t know if I should say more about it. I can’t quote everything in this fic, this post is already far too long. Also, I shouldn’t spoil everything. However, I can say that I wanted to write this situation where everything happens a bit too fast, perhaps, and then take it from there. 

So, about the supernatural elements. Right now, I can’t recall exactly which magical scene that started the whole magical realism thing. Maybe it was the one in the church. I think that Isak had a moment where everything got blurry and he felt that he knew Even from before. I had planned to just have just a few moments like that and leave it as a mystery (I’m weak for magical realism and it tends to pop up in my writing from time to time). But my amazing beta reader saw the potential and helped me see more places that I could add more magic. And that magical realism thing became a big part of the whole fic. Actually, it became the most important part of the story. And the most fun part was that it fit surprisingly well with the idea of parallel universes. 

Here’s an example of one of these moments in the church: 

One moment he has this vision, of himself in another life, where he has chosen love, and living for real, where he laughs and cries and lives, and it takes his breath away. It’s bizarre, but he sees himself with Even, with this guy next to him, and they do everything together; they kiss, laugh, fuck, fight and cry and kiss again, and it can’t be right, because it almost feels like memories. Memories from another life that never was.  To live, it is like the ocean, / to mirror the heavens.

What is happening to him? Isak can’t breathe. It is like he is trapped. 

As a result, this chapter changed quite a lot from my first draft, as I added more magic moments and as I knew where the story would go. I guess I learned a lot, writing this thing, about how stories can change and turn into something more than you imagine from the start.

[girlstalkgiris]

VIGILANTE - THREE

SUMMARY: Alia is struggling to deal with the fact that she died and woke up with powers. To add to her problems, she’s put into a situation where she has to use them.

WORDS: 3,787

MASTERLIST

WE MET WHEN WE WERE KIDS. It wasn’t because we’d met in a way that was so spectacularly one-of-a-kind that I remember it to this day, no. To be honest, it was really mundane. Despite that, I still can’t explain what it is that makes me so fond of the particular memory of meeting Peter. My sister, Rosa, and I had just been enrolled into yet another school after being forced into moving cities for what felt like the millionth time due to my mom’s demanding job.

The wind howled as the students arrived through the gates, hustling and bustling down the corridors. Friends were greeting each other with a hug or a playful punch while my sister and I stood separately from the crowd, preparing ourselves to interact with the other kids. We attempted to carry ourselves with a sense of confidence – something we’d learned from switching schools over and over had a habit of attracting the other kids’ attention. Soon enough, my extroverted sister had become friends with half the class and she dragged me along with her to meet them, too. Soon after that, it didn’t take me long to make some new friends. When the bell that signalled recess rung, some of them pulled my sister and I towards the playground and we didn’t hesitate to follow them there, despite the freezing temperature.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a boy with a snow-bitten nose and shy eyes sitting on a bench with his hands folded in his lap as his legs swung back and forth underneath him. He watched the children playing and having fun, but he made no effort to join them due to his lack of confidence. Before I knew it, I had made my way towards him. My hand was outstretched towards him, inviting him to play with me.

“Hey, I don’t really know anyone here that well, and you seem kinda cool, so I was wondering if you wanted to join my sister and I?”

The rest of the day is mostly just a blur to me, but one thing that’s still very clear in my head to this day is the warmth radiating off of him despite the frigid temperature. After that, Peter, Rosa, and I were the bests of friends and we did everything together. Somewhere along the way, we met Ned and he joined our little gang, too. However, our friendship didn’t last as long as the four of us hoped. Naturally, Rosa and I’s friendship is still the same due to the fact that we’re sisters and unfortunately, we have to live in the same house together, but our relationship with Peter and Ned started to become strained in grade ten.

We had been put in different classes that year and my sister, being the social butterfly she’d always been, had not found it difficult to make new friends and she ended up dragging me along with her, yet again – similar to the day I met Peter. Of course, Rosa and I tried to keep contact with each them, but Peter and Ned seemed to be distancing themselves from the both of us. Their shyness and scholastic interests made them social outcasts and, on top of that, their hushed whispers and the secrets they were not-so-subtly keeping from us didn’t help to mend what was left of our slowly withering friendship. So by the end of the tenth grade, we stopped talking all together. Of course, if I ever saw either of them in the halls of school, I’d wave to them and be met with a shy smile in return.

The last interaction I had had with Peter was almost six months ago when he picked up a pencil that I had accidentally dropped onto the ground for me – until the events of two days ago, when my science teacher (who is a rat) had assigned him as my tutor.

And that’s how we got to the position we’re in right now – me, sitting directly across from Peter in his room with my worksheets and notes sprawled haphazardly across his desk still attempting to understand the basic anatomy of the cell. I tried to ignore the dull throbbing in the back of my head and focus on the words coming from Peter’s mouth but my mind kept wandering off elsewhere, something I’d noticed I’d been doing more and more often.

“-and that’s why it forms a phospholipid bilayer.” He paused his explanation to scan my face to see if I understood any of what he’s just explained. Peter jutted out his tongue, licking his lips and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on them for a second. If he noticed, he didn’t do anything to let me know that he did. Peter clenched his jaw before sighing in defeat, falling back onto his black chair. “Were you even listening to anything I just said?”

Embarrassment flooded over me as I shook my head. Peter sat up, his hands moving to collect the papers so he could explain the concepts to me yet again. “Sorry,” I mumbled so quietly I could barely hear it myself, while my cheeks flushed a burning red. He looks so cute I can’t focus. I thought to myself. A familiar feeling had begun to gnaw at my stomach, though I was unsure whether it was caused by the awkwardness of the situation or something else. I felt the goose bumps form on my skin and the temperature in the room waver. My eyes widened for a millisecond before I regained my composure, remembering that I wasn’t alone and that Peter probably felt it too. I quickly made the decision to ignore it and pretend that the temperature fluctuation in the room wasn’t caused by me – not that he’d ever suspect that it was, though. Why would his first thought be that you made his room cold, dumbass? He probably thinks it’s just the window open.

“No, no, no!” Peter rushed out. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, or anything! We just have to go over the concepts one more time, that’s a-” His rambling was cut short when his phone rang.  While he quickly pulled it out from under the pile of papers cluttered on top of his desk, I had a chance to think about our current situation. This is the first time Peter and I had had a proper conversation in what felt like ten million years and it was about biology (ew). I pretended to look over the notes while he said something about needing a second to text Ned, who I assumed was the one who called him. I couldn’t lie, it felt good to be spending time with Peter like this, even if we were forced into it by my teacher (again, a rat.) In the back of my mind, I hoped that eventually we would be able to move past just being a tutor and a student, and go back to the friendship we once had, but if he was still keeping secrets like he used to, I knew it was unlikely.

Soon, we decided that I was done learning for the day and that it was probably best for me to get home so that my mom’s wouldn’t yell at me for coming home late. Peter helped me pack up my things and together, we made our way out of his room and towards the door. On our way there, we were interrupted by an older feminine voice that I recognized belonged to Aunt May.

“Peter, can you d- oh.” She paused, noticing me. It took her a moment to collect herself and when she did, she made her way towards me. “Alia! I haven’t seen you here in a while!” she continued, grinning while she held me tightly in her arms - well as best as she could with her hands full with her papers, keys and some glass tupperware. Peter stood behind us, watching the interaction with a nervous smile on his face. I stood on my toes to hug her back, my height making it difficult for me to return her affection.

“God, I know!” I mumbled into her shoulder before I pulled away.

“So I take it Peter finally told you he’s-” Aunt May started but before she could continue, Peter cut her off by abruptly clearing his throat. Peter not-so-subtly sent her a look that said ‘shut up!’ and Aunt May looked confused for a second before her eyes widened in understanding and she coughed, trying to cover up what she had begun to say.

Told me what? I thought this whole tutoring thing could finally be a chance to give our friendship another try, but it turns out he’s still keeping secrets.

“Told me what?” I voiced my thoughts out loud.

“Nothing! Told you nothing!” He blurted before May could say anything else. I tried my best to conceal the look of hurt that threatened to reveal itself on my face. Of course, I had no actual reason to be hurt over the fact that he was hiding things from me, seeing as we weren’t actual friends - this was the first time we’d actually spoken in six months, for god’s sake! However, some part of me still hoped that Peter hadn’t completely forgotten about the friendship we once had.

Peter’s lips pursed into a thin line and he opened his mouth to say something before closing it again, probably realizing that nothing that he could possibly say would help to diffuse the situation. Damn, this got awkward fast.

“Well, it was nice seeing you two again,” I started. “But I should probably go.” I finished, now looking at the ground awkwardly. May hugged me one last time, saying something about how I should come over again soon. Once she let me go, she looked between Peter and I before saying something along the lines of 'You two probably have some things to talk about, so I’ll leave you to it.’

Peter and I awkwardly stood there for what felt like ten years but was probably only thirty seconds. I opened my mouth to say something - anything - that would relieve the tension that seemed to be so thick I could choke on it, but I was saved by my phone ringing.

Mom told me to pick u up. Wyd at Peter’s house anyways?

Rosa - 9:17 PM

I’m outside btw. Hurry up.

Rosa - 9:17 PM

“That would be my ride,” I said, looking back up at Peter. He nodded, leading me towards the door of the apartment complex. I turned to leave, but he caught my wrist in his, preventing me from doing so. My heart leapt in my chest and I turned to look at his face, which, might I add, was looking as perfect as ever in the soft lighting.

“Wait. I, um-” He paused to clear his throat. “I had fun today.”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. God, has he always been this adorable?

“Me too. Well, as much fun as someone can have studying bio,” I stated, having already forgotten anything Peter taught me. Peter leaned against the doorway with a cute smile adorning his features. Being around Peter made my mind go blank. What was I supposed to do now? Run away? Hug him? Without thinking, I stuck my hand out for a handshake. He gave me a look.

“A handshake? Really, Alia?” Peter questioned. Before I even realized what was happening, he pulled my hand forward, causing my body to tumble into his chest. I stayed there for a minute in shock. A million thoughts swarmed through my head. Oh my god we’re hugging. Where did this confidence come from? And when did Peter get abs? Blushing furiously, I pulled away, but not before noticing the fact that Peter was wincing.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I inquired. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second but he quickly recomposed himself before shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” I pried further.

“It’s nothing to worry about. Flash just elbowed my ribs during gym while we were playing dodgeball.” With the mention of Flash’s name, anger surged within me.

“Nothing to worry about? Peter, you look like you’re about to cry. Let me have a look.” I may not be a doctor, but I was taking sportsmed this semester and I was basically an expert, if I do say so myself. Peter laughed me off, even though it looked like he was in immense pain. How had I not noticed earlier?

He cleared his throat before responding, “No, really, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine.” I searched his face for any sign of him lying to me.

“Alright,” I answered hesitantly, not fully accepting his answer. “But if Flash does anything to hurt you again, come to me, okay? I’ll fight him for you.” I continued. He laughed, a sound so beautiful that it caused my stomach to flip.

“You don’t need to fight him for me, Alia.” I nodded, trying not to let it show that the way he said my name affected me a lot.

“Yeah, I know. But he pisses me off and I’ll do anything for a chance to punch that piece of shit.”  He laughed again, making my stomach do flips for the millionth time that night. Before I could reply, my phone dinged again.

I’ve been waiting for ten yeaaaars can u hurry thot

Rosa - 9:21 PM

“Sorry Peter, Rosa’s been waiting outside for a while and I don’t want to have to put up with her bitching once I get to the car,” I readjusted my school bag that was slipping off my shoulder. “Talk to you at school?” I asked without even realizing. Obviously Peter didn’t want to be seen with me at school, what was I thinking? “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that - I know we’re not best friends or anything, it was just instinc-” he cut me off.

“Of course.” Peter stated with a smile which, obviously, spread to my face too.

Getting into Rosa’s car, I sighed and threw my spine-crushing bag into the back seat. Rosa sat in the driver’s seat, her arm lazily resting a top the wheel. She stared at me expectantly while I sat in the passenger’s seat confused. “So?” She asked. When I gave her a look that said 'What?’ she decided to continue. “What were you doing at Peter’s house?”

“Studying,” I shrugged. I knew how much Rosa disapproved of Peter and Ned after they’d completely separated themselves from us last year. It seemed like she hadn’t taken them distancing themselves from us nearly as personally as I had. She had no problem making new friends and moving on, while I still thought of them once in a while. Don’t get me wrong, of course I was hurt, but it’s not like I was gonna mope for the rest of my life.

“Just studying?” she gave me a look. “Then why are you blushing?” Rosa questioned, immediately causing my hands to cover my cheeks before fumbling out an excuse.

“I’m not! The walk from the building was just really hot and my cheeks got red!” I wasn’t lying, It really was scorching outside.

“See, now I know you’re lying.” I gave her a confused look. “Alia, it’s negative five outside.” She said while starting up the car. No way in hell it is, I thought to myself. It’s so hot outside that I didn’t even need a jacket. Looking out the window, I started to notice the frost slowly forming on the glass. Oh god, not this again.

“Alia, you don’t have to lie to me.” Rosa started. She shivered, moving to turn up the heat in the car before noticing that it was already the highest it could be. “Is the heater broken? It just got really cold really fast.” She wondered out loud before glancing at me, noticing that I wasn’t freezing like her. “You don’t feel that?” I, however, was too busy worrying about the thick fog that was starting to form from my palms. Goosebumps rose on my arms and I tried my best to calm down while hiding the fog from Rosa. Thankfully, I didn’t have to reply, since Rosa kept going.

“Anyways, don’t you think it’s a little weird Peter’s trying to be your best friend? After him and Ned practically ghosted us last year?” Rosa raised her brow, her tone becoming more bitchy as she continued. “What if him and Ned are secretly scheming something?”

“Rosa, it’s not that deep. All we did was study together. And only because he was forced to by my bio teacher, might I add. And you know Peter’s not like that,” I argued.

“Isn’t he though?” She spoke, her frustration getting the better of her and her words coming out harsher and louder than she probably meant for them to. “Did one study session with him already make you forget about what they did to us last year? What they did to you?” I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to listen. I really didn’t want to be in this car with her anymore. To add to my problems, every breath I took was now visible as cold puffs and the frost on the windows had spread to the windshield, hardening into a thick layer of ice. I really had to get out of this car before she realized the temperature was dropping more rapidly than physically possible.

“Pull over.” I stated, my voice as hard and cold as the ice I had managed to create that Rosa had yet to notice.

“What? You’ve gotta be kidding me, Alia. It’s so cold my balls are freezing off, there’s no way I’m going to let you walk alone in the streets of Queen’s all alone just because you’re stubborn.” She scoffed.

“I’m not asking for permission.” The words coming from my mouth didn’t feel like they were coming from me. They seemed foreign. Never had I ever felt this much anger in my life - it felt like any little thing could make me snap. Why was I reacting like this? Over something this small? But it was too late to back down now and Rosa’s expression had only proved it. She clenched her jaw and her hands, which had to be freezing because of my impact on the weather, were gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. She gave me a long, hard look before pulling over.

“If you die, it’s not my fault.” I rolled my eyes before grabbing my bag from the back seat. Been there, done that. I thought to myself.

Almost immediately after my departure from her car, I could see the ice on her windows melting. My stomach twisted now that I had a moment to really think about what just happened. What was wrong with me and why was I being so irrational? Rosa’s car sped away and I pulled out my phone, checking how far I was from my house. Three whole ass miles. Great.

Already regretting my decision, I begrudgingly began the walk home. Not even five minutes into my walk, I could see the silhouette of a big, bulky man with another standing tall with another figure on their knees in front of him, doing what I could only assume was the nasty. Ugh. Only in Queen’s. I thought to myself. Unfortunately, the only other path to my house was blocked off due to construction, so this was the only path available. Maybe if I walked quickly, I could spare my innocence. Now I was really regretting getting out of the car.

I tried my best to walk past the couple quickly, but upon a closer inspection, I could see that the figure on their knees was being held at gunpoint and they weren’t doing the nasty like I had previously assumed. For a second I was relieved that they weren’t doing you-know-what, but not before the reality of the situation settled in. What was I supposed to do in a situation like this? My heart was pounding in my ears and it seemed to be the only thing i could focus on. My stomach twisted and turned and a familiar feeling settled in the pit of it. The feeling spread from my stomach to my hands and suddenly what I needed to do became clear to me. Obviously, I had to help him.

My hands shakily unlocked my phone and I tried to dial 911, but before I could, my phone died. Great timing. If I survive this, I’m suing Apple.

Looking down at my hands, I noticed a dense fog gathering like it had before in the car with Rosa. Except this time, it was different. This time, it felt like it was trying to lead me. I couldn’t be scared of these new found powers anymore. There was a man in front of me who was literally about to die and I had no other option but to at least try to help him. I focused on my hands, attempting to do something, anything, that would help to save the man on his knees in front of me.

From the distance I was standing at, I could vaguely hear him sobbing for his life, making my heart clench even more. The man holding the gun had his back turned towards me. The adrenaline rush helped me concentrate on my hands and I felt a spark fly through me. I could feel some kind of energy gathering my hand and it felt like it was only a few moments away from exploding. I aimed my hands towards the gun in my hand and shut my eyes tightly. The tension gathering in my hand reached its peak and I opened my eyes when I heard a bang!

I was too late and because of me, a man was dead.

[carryon-waywardsnow]

Letters To The Chosen One - Chapter Fourteen

A/N- This chapter is literally 5 months late and I am extremely sorry for that. I got writer's block, and ended up forgetting about the story altogether. I’d remember it occasionally and think “What’s the point. No one reads it anyway”  But today I got a notification that @a-small-gathering-of-mangos liked the fic and idk. Something just clicked and I was like, “shit I need to finish that.” Especially since I know and hate the feeling of reading a fic only to find it’s abandoned.  Soo, sorry for the long wait. And thank you, Mango Pal :) This is probably the last chapter unless I ever get inspiration for an epilogue. (& I’m very very bad at endings and I’m aware the ending is weak so if anyone has advice PLEASE let me know.)

Word Count: ~1,170

Masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Baz

  The book sailing out of the top story window is enough of a sign for me to realize Simon is in danger. I start up the stairs wordlessly, Bunce close behind.

When I reach (my mom’s) the Mage’s office I almost scream at the sight. Simon is unconscious on the ground, the vampire that tried to attack him a few weeks ago has his fangs sunk into the Chosen One. He’s going to kill Simon. I lunge forwards, pushing the vamp off. Penelope and the Mage throw curses at each other nearby.

I conjure a flame into my hand and toss it at the bookcase. The hardcovers and paperbacks are quick to turn to flames.

I focus my eyes on the vampire in front of me, my gaze cold and hard. He’s recoiled away from the blaze. He lurches forward just as I throw my arms out, pushing him into the fire. He burns and glows for a moment before crumpling to ash.

My instinct is to grab Simon and run. But Bunce is slowly losing the fight against the Mage. She’s a talented magician, the best in our class alongside me. But the Mage is one of the strongest. Even I wouldn’t be able to defeat him singlehandedly. We need to work together. Penelope stumbles back and drops her wand as a freeze spell hits her. She’s not permanently hurt, the spell will wear off in about a minute. But that isn’t enough time. The Mage pulls out his sword and starts towards her.

“I wouldn’t let my only son die without good reason,” he snaps. I’m not surprised at all when he calls Simon his son. I probably should be, but it just makes so much sense. I quickly point my wand at him. His attention is focused on Bunce, which gives me a chance to cast “have a great trip.”

What kind of sick bastard attempts to kill their child?

The Mage topples over into the quickly spreading flames. I don’t have much time. One wrong move and I’ll be ashes too.

I cast a counterspell on Bunce, immediately unfreezing her. She looks around the room, aghast. The Mage’s shouts of pain pierce our ears.

“Baz, go! You’re flammable,” I roll my eyes. As if I didn’t know how close to death I am. I lean down and lift Simon into my arms, before shoving Bunce out the door and following behind her.

The whole scene replays in my head the entire way down the stairs.

Seeing Simon unconscious. Still not knowing whether he’s alive or not. It’s terrifying. (I think I can hear his breathing. Shallow enough for only a vampire to hear.)

The vampire didn’t have time to react when I pushed him. He was in ashes within seconds. But, the Mage. I can still hear his screams as I carry Simon down the stairs and outside to safety. I can only be thankful that Simon is passed out, that he doesn’t have to hear his only living parent die. Although, I don’t care what biology says. The Mage was never a real father to Simon.

Before we exit the tower, Bunce casts a “There Is Nothing To See Here” on us. Between the smoke from the flames and the sound of the Mage’s screams, there is sure to be a lot of attention drawn towards the Weeping Tower, and we can’t be seen leaving. If anyone spots us, we will likely be accused of killing the Mage. Especially if I’m seen. My family is known for hating the Mage. We would be the top suspects.  Once the spell deems us hidden, Bunce and I rush towards the turret(?), Simon still unconscious in my arms. Our prediction was right, students and teachers are running from their buildings, watching the Weeping Tower in horror. Teachers are shouting spells at the fire, but the sudden end to the screaming reveals that it’s too late for The Mage.

The two of us carry Simon up the winding stairs and to our (mine and Simon’s) shared room. I gently set Simon on his bed as Penelope casts a reversal on the invisibility spell. Immediately we begin to cast healing spells on Simon. It reminds me all too much of the day I was bitten, only my role in the situation is reversed. Suddenly, Snow stirs and opens his eyes. He’s alive. Bunce is instantly by his side, holding him in a tight hug. I stand at the foot of the bed uncomfortable. If I had just insisted on going up with him, he would be okay right now. My eyes drift to the holes on his neck. I have a matching scar on mine. Simon may be alive, but he’ll never be the same. I sit at the edge of the bed and take Simons hand into mine as he cries into Bunce. It hurts me to see him like this. His palms aren’t as warm and sweaty as usual, and I can’t tell if it’s because of his loss of extra magic or if he’s already turning. I have to bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying with him. I squeeze his hand gently, and my heart skips a beat when he squeezes back. I don’t deserve him.

Once Snow calms down a bit, he pulls away from Penelope and sits cross-legged on the bed. Bunce is next to him, her head on his shoulder. I’m across from the two, my hand still intertwined in Simon’s.

I long to lie with him and hold him until he feels okay, just the two of us. But, I know his relationship with Penelope is just as important, if not more, than his relationship with me.

The three of us sit in silence for quite some time before Simon finally speaks up.

“W-what happened to the Mage,” his voice is barely a whisper. Both Bunce and I freeze and lock eyes. Neither of us wants to be the one to break the news. I decide to be the one to speak up.

“I cast a fire on the room. The Mage didn’t make it,” I whisper. Simon’s face shows no emotion, he only nods to confirm he heard me.

“He was going to hurt you. He would have hurt all of us,” Penelope adds.

“He said he was my father,” Simon whispers.

Penelope and I nod.

“He told us too,” I respond.

“He lied to me my whole life. I should be glad he’s dead but... It feels wrong,” He mumbles.

“It’s okay to be confused. It’s a lot to process,” Bunce reassures him. Simon reaches up and places his fingers over the small holes on his neck, wincing.

I crawl over and sit on the other side of Simon, wrapping my arms around him.

“Don’t worry. We’re going to get through this. I’ll help you.”

I gently place a kiss on his cheek.

“Everything is going to be okay. We will carry on.”

___________ ___________ ___________ ___________

Tagged: @ailecstuff @fleurdelisan

[lightsorigins]

An inefficient world

03 Marckabeth 2010

3:42 pm, Mysticiën,

Lausya, Estery High School

 Squeezed into an uncomfortable wooden chair, Sarasvatî had her arms folded. She had been staring at Madame Bigot, her biology teacher, for a few minutes. After having finished her tirade on a part of the course, this last one also observed Sara during a few seconds. The setting sun was illuminating her short jet hair and her strong gaze. She was imperturbable, yet everything about her indicated a latent irritation.

- Sarasvatî, do you have something to add?

 She sighed at length before answering.

- You send me sorry, but you can't understand anything in a class where you get lost in so many details.

- These details are in Sara's program. If you work harder, you'll understand more.

 At the agreement of his words, his gaze caught fire.

- That I work more? Me? In this room, I'm sure that no one understood a word of what you've just explained. You start to talk to us about how Anima and Menha work, and then you digress about your theories about the most powerful elements to bring down the Anima of our opponents, even though we are not even atmologists. It had nothing to do with the beginning of the session, and we haven't even been given a lecture on the primary elements yet!

- Sara...

- Don't expect me to believe that your assumptions about how things work are part of the program. Everyone here knows that you were not a high school teacher last year.

 Madame Bigot was a red-headed meïlith with very light blue skin. Her big green eyes opened more and more to Sara's insolence. Discreet and kind, she had indeed shown for some sessions difficulties in giving her course in a sufficiently clear manner. Suddenly, she gave a big blow on her desk with the flat of her hand.

- Enough! You will bring me your notebook at the bell. I cannot accept such behavior in this room. Class representative or good student, I don't care!

- Instead, say that you are unable to accept reality and the criticisms that go against your ineffective methods," Sara replied before taking out her notebook and putting it at the end of the table.

- Pardon? exclaimed the professor.

- Nothing. Nothing that you wouldn't be able to hear.

      She was dying to make him swallow her tongue with an atmos. Something that would have made her feel like making a fool of herself in front of all those students, but Laura Bigot would be in big trouble with the Grand Council of Atmology if she did so. However, she could already see herself joining hands, forming a skillful circle and whispering "Totopo lu hodo". A wooden cocoon would then have formed around Sarasvatî, who would have had no choice but to keep quiet. The pupils would then have said to each other "It is not necessary to joke with Mrs. Bigot! ». She would have earned the respect she had hoped for, continued her course and shared her intelligent theories on the functioning of the elements. Yet, instead...

- What's up? Are you going to take this notebook, yes or no? Instead of standing stupidly in front of me staring at me.

- Leave this room immediately Sara. You will have a report that you will remember for a long time. I would have liked to talk with you calmly, but it is obviously not possible.

- Anyway, it's going to ring. I would have liked to avoid this with you, but it seems to me that we have already talked about this problem. I won't be able to get a higher education with your damn theories. You simply have no right to do that. I'll talk to the director about it tomorrow. I'll see you soon.

       Madame Bigot kept talking, but Sara had already moved on. Then the bell rang. It was an unpleasant, strident, repetitive sound that she had never enjoyed hearing. She grabbed her black leather jacket and put it over her long sky-blue dress. Grabbing her bag, she walked towards the exit, expressionless. Her step was heavy, fast and sure. She didn't greet anyone and stopped at the door. Once in the hallway, Sara stretched out her arm and let her diamond shûmberr skin handbag dangle nimbly from her fingertips. Staring down at the large alley, a long sigh of impatience escaped from between her lips. Suddenly, a young sygreliad with long blond hair rushed towards her and grabbed her bag.

- Sorry Sara, I hadn't finished writing everything down. Damn, your bag is heavy today, what did you put in it?

- It's the weight of Madame Bigot's bullshit, did you see how it weighs?

  Annabelle smiled an embarrassed smile at him. Sara mimicked her expression by mimicking a despicable nonsense before continuing.

- Where's Marvin? Is he going to suck up to miss bullshit, or is he going to show up?

  A large wazardin with a tousled coat ran out of the room, jostling Sara and Annabelle as they passed by. He stumbled a few seconds later, knocking over all of his comrade's things in the hallway. His ruby eyes were lost in Sara's, who stared at him without blinking.

- Ah shit, I thought you two had left," he said, laughing and nervously scratching his head.

- Marvin, I think I'm going to destroy you and your whole family," Sara said dryly.

- But you still intend to continue to help me with the merçembuth history presentation?

- Maybe, if you pick up everything you just spilled in less than thirty seconds. After that time, I might purposely insert errors in your homework and insult the teachers to get you kicked out of school.

  Marvin swallowed his saliva and picked it all up, helped by Annabelle, who then picked up Sara's purse. They continued on their way out of the school. Snow was falling in large flakes on Lausya. It was a venckelbuth of the month of jalestar. This year's system was particularly cold. Every day, Sarasvatî, Annabelle and Marvin came home from school together because their homes were on the same road. Since middle school, the three teenagers had spent a lot of time together working on subjects in which they were struggling. Despite her bullying attitude, Sara knew she needed Annabelle's help in math. In return, she would help them out when they had arguments with other students, but also in other subjects where Annabelle and Marvin were not performing as well as she did.

- It took exactly twenty-four seconds to pick up everything," says Annabelle. That's it, you're saved for your homework Marvin!

- No, because you helped him so it doesn't count. So I'm not going to help you, too," Sara replied.

  Annabelle's face decomposed. The young sygreliad gradually slowed down her walk, when Sara suddenly ripped her purse from her hands.

- Oh, but we can't even laugh anymore? It's not possible that! I'll help you anyway, I'm not a monster ! We've known each other for a long time, seriously. You're the only two people I accept to talk to, stop being afraid like that for a little bit, otherwise I won't hang out with you anymore. 

- You'll have to excuse me Sara, but considering how mad you were at Madame Bigot earlier, it doesn't make you want to be more upset than that.

- You have nothing to do with it, I wouldn't be stupid enough to make you pay for miss bigou's incompetence. And what do you think of what I said to her? Did you understand what she was talking about?

- I don't know," Annabelle hesitated. I was interested in her ideas, but she did talk fast. Anyway, it wasn't going to last long. Do you really think that letting her talk a little bit about it from time to time is so bad?

- The problem is there, and you both need to think about it too. Like me, you would like to become good atmologists later on, wouldn't you? Imagine letting all of our teachers knock us out with their unproven hypotheses for five to ten minutes per hour-long class. Imagine, in total, how much time we will have wasted! That would mean that...

  Marvin grabs her by the arm and pulls her onto the road. Sara was so carried away by his explanation that she hadn't seen that it was time to cross.

- That would mean a lot of time would be lost," he added calmly. I know, it's okay. But only Madame Bigot does that. She is new, you said it yourself, and despite that she is still a good teacher!

  Sara stared at him before raising her eyes to the sky.

- How much did you get at his last checkup, Marvin? Honestly?

- I got 8 out of 20, and you know very well that I usually get half in organic classes!

- Marvin, you got 8 and I got 10, whereas in bio I normally go out with at least 16. She's not a good teacher. And I need a record that is relevant to my entry into the top universities in Mysticiën. I have tried to be patient, I have already talked to her about the situation but the very next day she does the same thing to me. I wish she had at least been honest and told me clearly that she would continue to do as she pleased.

- And if she had said that, are you sure you wouldn't have done something, like spilling all her stuff on the floor or yelling at her that she's just incompetent?

  Sara slowed down her walk slightly and began to contemplate the sky for a few seconds as a sign of reflection. Suddenly, her gaze returned to Annabelle.

- Yeah, you have a point. Are we still on for math tomorrow at 4:00?

- Yes, I have notified my parents. I leave you here, see you tomorrow!

  She walked away discreetly. Sara and Marvin watched the silhouette in the small white coat disappear in the distance towards the east of the city, rubbing her arms against herself to warm up before she could go home. Marvin patted Sara on the back before bursting into laughter.

- Hey, Marvin. Really, I'm going to end up killing you if you touch me a third time.

- You're not cool to make Annabelle carry your bag like that! Look how tiny and cute she is in her coat, she still looks like a little girl.

  They went the other way before Sara continued.

- I took advantage of this before she became a school principal. She will eat us all if we don't dominate her first. Look at her, with her little feet and her nice attitudes. She's hiding an evil genius, that's for sure.

- Aren't you projecting your own attitudes onto her?

- No. And you want to carry my bag instead maybe?

- I can't promise I'll never drop it if you let me do it, but we can always try, I guess.

  At the agreement of her words, she jumped up and down to try to slap him on the back of the head. Marvin ducked, and the two teenagers began to chase each other around town. The discussion turned into a brief snowball fight, won by Sarasvatî. In their bickering, they had reached Marvin's family home, which was still lying on the ground. Before he got up, Sara approached him with a huge amount of snow in her arms.

- What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Notorious Criminal? she asked comically.

      Marvin concentrated with all his strength and a pink glow covered him. Sara frowned, wondering what idiocy he was up to. A few seconds later, he had taken on the appearance of Sara herself.

- Nothing. Nothing that you wouldn't be able to hear. "He replied seriously and solemnly, to imitate Sara's phrase when she had argued with their teacher.

  When she understood, she covered her face with snow and started kicking him. Marvin laughed and laughed for a good five minutes before getting up and returning to his original shape.

- Wazardins, you are really dangerous people. I hope you don't take my appearance to do anything in front of others.

- Given the sanctions that await me if I do that, it's better that I avoid. Well, I'm out of here. Get home safe, and don't kill your brother if he's done something stupid, okay?

- Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.

      Sara's home was a few dozen meters from here. All she had to do was cross a few roads, turn a couple of blocks, and she would find the park and then the building where she lived with her brother and mother. As she continued on her way silently, Sara got lost in her thoughts. She was still organizing her future, already imagining herself in a prestigious university, studying atmology as a Creator. The Creators combine the energies of Fire and Plants to fight and explore the world. What seduced Sara in this atmological discipline was the possibility of giving life to living creatures to fight at her side. Federating a team that she would have made entirely with her own hands... nothing could make her dream stronger.

    Suddenly, as she was walking at a brisk pace, her foot stumbled on a thick piece of carjaline, in the middle of a park that she travels home through every day. Intrigued, she stopped to observe it more closely. The thick black debris reflected an intense glow. She recognized the fragments of black tourmaline, through which the last rays of the sun were seeping, then she sighed at length. It was a mechanical arm, and Sara knew exactly where it came from.

- I guess it's not ironic to have one intervention a year since high school by the Guild of Renovators, while the mayor himself leaves his pieces of inventions lying around anywhere...

      She gave a huge kick to the robot arm. The noise resonated through the entire alloy. Sara looked a little further and recognized a hand also made of carjaline. Ecology was a cause that was close to her heart, also because she had become aware early on of the harmful effects that occur when no one pays attention to it. As she walked along the road again, she plunged into her memories. Many alloys and castings like these were not so easily recycled, and ended up impacting not only the fauna and flora, but also the people of Lausanne. As

    far back as she can remember, Oscar Fanghël, the mayor of Lausya, has always considered the town as an experimental field of choice to test his prototypes. No one ever really knew what he was creating so many of them for. No one ever knew why he did not stop despite the numerous requests of the people of Lausya, and even worse: no one ever knew why the GCA (Great Council of Atmosphology), or even the GCM (Great Council of Martial Arts), had never acted in the face of this problem. Still, some members of the Guilde des Rénovateurs came to the aid of the lausois, but with great discretion.

      Sara suspected well-disguised political shenanigans. She and other lausois knew that the ancestry of the Fanghël family was highly respected, had a long arm and could quickly come to grips with any opponent. This disturbing prospect probably kept many people silent. She swore to herself, however, that when she became powerful enough, Sara would make Oscar eat all his prototypes one after the other. She hoped that Annabelle, Marvin and her other friends would join her cause and that one day this city, and others suffering similar injustices, would become more effectively managed.

    She finally reached the square in her neighbourhood: a poorly maintained place, decorated with a few benches and children's games, half of which had been seriously damaged. Buildings rose up around her, as if they were contemplating her with all the coldness of the system. A cold draught suddenly woke her up, awakening a wave of shivers that ran down her spine. She clenched her teeth, cursed and started looking for her keys in her bag before reaching the entrance hall. Then a strange smell tickled her nostrils. She knew that smell well.

- Nanthilia? Seriously, some guys start smoking this early in the day?

      The fragrance was far too close for Sara to resist knowing who, in this neighborhood she knew on the tip of her fingers, was having fun rolling nanthilia joints. The local youth - and the youth from elsewhere - loved it for the fun and soothing psychic effects it provides. Sara then discreetly walked around the large building to the right, surreptitiously walked along the wall and bent down to see if there were people further away. She heard laughter, including one she could recognize from among a thousand. A group of four young boys sat on a bench at the back of the building and laughed loudly. She approached them discreetly. From then on, only a few centimeters separated her from the boys.

      One of them turned around and fell face to face with Sara. With a hiccup of surprise, he jumped up and tripped his butt first on the field of grass. She still had her arms folded and that imperturbable expression that described her so well.

- Oh damn it! cried the young man who had just fallen. Why didn't you say you were there, Sara?

      She didn't answer, then looked at another boy in the group. He was shorter than the others, had a black hair in a battle, big black eyes, and wore a red flannel shirt with white checks. He was the one with the nanthilia joint in his hands. His eyes were red with fatigue. When Sara saw the joint between her fingers, she raised her eyebrows without taking her eyes off it. The young man did not blink.

- Name of a kannidus, Sara. Do you want to become a cop for the GCs now or what's it like? You can shove your witchy eyes up your ass.

- Are you kidding me, Kieran? she replied.

      Sara moved towards him to rip the joint out of his hands, but in response, he backed away. She grabbed him by the arm and eventually ripped it off, threw it to the ground, and crushed it vigorously with the tip of her foot.

- We had an agreement between the two of us. You had to behave better and make an effort because I warned you about the consequences of this thing, and I find you three days later smoking with three idiots from the neighbourhood?

- Oh eh, that's good," replied one of them, ready to defend his cause.

      Feeling the anger rising, Sara turned to them as if to forbid them to dare to speak again. The boys preferred to stay there and walk away, stunned by the effects of the nanthilia. Sara began to feel tired and disappointed. She didn't take her eyes off Kieran, who, on the other hand, was very angry.

- You're really annoying when you get into it. I've already told you that this situation is my business! Why don't you want to get off my back, don't you have classes to study or whatever else you need to do in your corner with your nerdy friends?

      For the umpteenth time today, she sighed.

- We're talking about your future Kieran, I'm not doing this just to annoy you. I'm your sister, it's my job to warn you about the effects of these things! Do you realize that mercenaries and explorers use this to cause psychic disturbances on their opponents? Do you think it's normal to blow your head off with it?

- Yes! because it's my skull and I do what I want with it! I don't want to do mega-studies like you, me.

      She remained silent as Kieran assailed her with all her favorite phrases to express her desire for independence and freedom. Her tirades continued for minutes on end. In the hall, in the elevator, and until they entered the apartment. He slammed the front door with all his might.

- If you're going to sneak up on me like that all the time, I'm just going to end up breaking into someone else's house without telling anyone! I'm tired of having you on my ass, you understand that? You're pissing me off!

- You're not doing what you want here Kieran," she shouted back. You're fourteen years old, you're a minor, you don't have to make these kinds of decisions, let alone talk to me like that! And if you want to run away, I'm going to find you whether you like it or not!

      This time it was the door to Kieran's room that slammed. A few seconds later, he launched a hard rock song at maximum volume. Sara was about to tell him to turn it down, but when she put her hand on the latch, she heard him turn the key in the lock. She put her hands to her hair and growled in irritation before going into the kitchen. The room was dirty, dimly lit with a light that Sara often described as "too white. Tired from work, her mother Naska didn't always have time to clean the apartment. Kieran would never get down to it, and Sara was far too busy working on her lessons.Putting her purse on the floor, she abruptly pulled out one of the chairs and dropped herself on it, taking her head in her hands and closing her eyes. A warm smell of boiled yone permeated the room. Naska, was cooking. Sara hated boiled food. It was the worst day she could have hoped for.

- Then my dear, why did your brother go to his room? Why are you still arguing? she asked softly.

- I've already come out of a class given by a poor incompetent and when I get downstairs, I find him smoking nanthilia with a bunch of jerks from the neighborhood. I had spoken with him not even a week ago, he told me that he understood and that he was going to make an effort, and look what he's doing!

- Don't be hard on your brother, honey.

- But how can I not be hard on him when he literally doesn't care about the world?

- You know that the situation is not easy for Kié. He needs time to act, and he's a young boy. Give him some time.

- If I'm the only one trying to be a little firmer with him, frankly, it's not going to help him. At some point you're going to have to do something serious. Let me remind you that I'm the one who pays for the private lessons that Amaëlle gives him! I work two days a week to help with homework for those in difficulty, but also to pay for her lessons! It's not by getting high on nanthilia every night that he's likely to learn things and use his memory well. I don't want to do that for nothing, it also impacts me, you understand?

      Naska marked a time of silence. Busy with her dish, she grabbed a bowl of spices and poured a tiny part of it into the broth she was preparing. She then drained the fragrant rice before continuing.

- You should relax a little bit Sara. I know you do a lot, but you could ask Amaelle for an advance for the classes.

- No. I'm not going to do that. I just want Kieran to get to work.

- Be patient, there is no reason to get into all these states. You must not push him to leave the house. I will be sad if something happens to him.

- I am already patient. All the time. And so am I...

      Sara felt that no matter what she might say, her mother would remain relaxed, or at least pretend to. Between the loud music played in her brother's room, the smell of boiled yone that was going to make her nauseous, and that incarnation with Madame Bigot earlier, she began to think that spending the evening here would be a bad idea. So she went to her room and made a call to Marvin.

- Hello Mrs. Solenelle?" he answered.

- Marvin, can I come to your house tonight?

- It depends on what for. Like, if it's for the presentation, I'm okay with it.

- Do you have fresh choums? Do you still have your two controllers to play with? Do you have an interesting topic of discussion in mind?

- Wow, we have a real program here, don't we?

- Yes or no?

- Yeah, yeah, it's quiet. Are you sure you're okay, Sara?

- I'll be there in five minutes. I'm sleeping at your place.

- Well, okay. I'll see you in a minute.

[isedoraklopper]

Research that redefine SM

The challenge of finding the literature that is needed seem to present a whole other set of other things that often jump up at me while I do the research to validate what seems to be a need from the community I am part of. Though selective mutism (SM) has been a presence in my life for all or most of my life to some degree or another, I am met with little understanding as to the why.

 So I got into looking in nuero biological studies, looking at how the brain is wired and is affected by the chemicals that make it affect a individual the way it does. What I find is that it is referred to as deficits in the social engagement that would compromise spontanous social behaviour, social awareness and affect the ability to be expressive, modulate the voice and make langauge development difficult (Porges, 2011).

 It as usually worries me, becuase if you weren’t following the full medical jargon in the research, all the interpretation lends itself to is the meidcal diagnostic imperitive data, which is often actually done on lab animals (not the sort that means its animal cruelty though). Trying to map our human brain to a rats, or the make ups of pigs and so on. Theories that underpin how we are looked at differently stem from these experiments.

 As someone who is often and has very frequently been referred to in the past as ‘deficit’, I find the language in this damaging. I find the result questionable, but frustrating realise, it opens the field, especially to SM, to another perpective. What if we allowed those who had lived through it to be the studies, longitudanal studies that reflect more than the medical diagnosis, thought includes it as it seems to be what the rest of the world focuses on.

 Though, I am not a fan of the DSM and all the box ticking that a diagnosis includes, choosing to be eclectic humanistic practioner isntead, I have come to realise there are times when it is actually important, though there are times I wonder in some diagnosis were forced because they could not place a individual in one box.  These inidviduals with sever psychiatric and behavioural disorders are considered to have difficulties in establishing and maintaining relationships. Several of these diagnostic frameworks include expected features of exspressing social behaviour and reading social cues. Obeserved in individuals with the primary psychaitric diagnosis of autism, social anxiety and prost traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) (Porges, 2011).

 As a SM I am aware of the co – mobidiy that comes with this. Though much of what had already been researched had related this to anxiety or being socially challenged. Something that still makes me super socially awkward, but am always worried when anyone is thrown onto other diagnosis, where there is prove, evidence of brian development being different, like autism. It fascinates me how many of the SM community have a autism on their diagnosis, but wont identify with being autistic, but rather SM. Wide generalising statements even in nuero biology is not helping. The above statement seemed pure speculation, as this had not directly been experimented with humans.

 No human CT scan, no stories, no feedback, just a statement. No wonder the rest of world thinks SM is so strange, no wonder the DSM does not place value on what the needs are of any of us ever affected by SM. Maybe with the challenging of the linear causality for the explanations of events or a system within a living individual, it can be argued that it is not possible for practitioners or community to have an appreciation of an objective reality (White & Epston, 1990).

 The quesitons is how?  How do we challenge the dominant beliefs, the dominant research or empirical numbers. Is maybe having individuals volunteer to tell stories, sit in one scan after another while the manner the brain is hardwired can be looked at. It is the lived experience that fall outside of the dominant social ideals and can be viewed as unique, which often is ignored in favour of common social needs which remains deeply interrelated into personal stories. Favouring the notion of dominant story and group people with a specific identity who are situated within the stories (White & Epston, 1990).

 Living the life of a SM, and with co – mobididity of a vartiey of other things, I know my brain was wired the ay it is, I dont ever remember choosing this. Why would anyone choose to not speak when you so desperately want to?  Being one of those that was given more than one test, and fitting several of each possible diagnosis, but not enough for a diagnosis, simply became the non compliant student and child that permantly being humiliated by far too many people around me. I know that these studies are important, especially if it sheds light on so many things. I also know, something is missing.  

 I know I have met students and people, who have all come to tell me that they were autistic, with SM, just to identify themselves later as SM only, feeling as if they had recoverd from autism (which is in all theory, empiracally impossible). Maybe, autism wasn’t what they were, but needed the diagnosis to get the support for what they needed. It astonishes me that no matter who it is, both personally and professionally, we seem to have forgotten what it is like to treat someone with dignity and integrity.

 In the same conversations it became clear that if also was a handful of teachers, tutors, therapists and friends that made the difference in this becoming less of a barrier or stigma. The humanistic factors. Sharing a moment of hanging out with a friend while listening to the radio, or going for drive with another friend in the car.  The little thing that connected people with SM back to being the human beings that we are, though as for most of us, are moments few and far between.

 It is the numbers in research that now matters more the the humanistic factors to which they are supposed to relate. What was and was not an example of the combination quantitative (numbers and data) and qualitative (narratives) research has been problematic, as researches have previously claimed one manner of data collation to be represented, rather than by more than one data collection approach. When in fact the data was based on the analysis of unstructured data like responses to open questions in a questionnaires closer to collecting narratives (Bryman, 2006).

 Personally as a researcher, I have never been hugely fond of statistical research, however, realised if the research I am doing, especially to education or social science fields, will need some numbers. Or I lose the chance to engage many medically based practioners and educators. It draws my attention to being able to create knowledge, that would mean that people living with SM does not feel like they are being boxed into something else or even seen for just their SM, but the whole amazing automous being.  

 It also means that as much as I seem to think that doing a PHD is not something I am considering, I may have stumbled onto the focus, which can add extraordinary value to SM, the physiology and cognition of people living with SM.

 References

1.    Bryman, A. (2006). Integrating quantitative and qualitative research: how is it?. Sage Publications, Vol 6, pp. 97 – 113. University of Leicester: London.

2.    Porges, S.W. (2011). The Polyvagal theory: Neurophysiology foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, self - regulation. Courier Westford, USA.

3.    White, M. & Epston, D. (1990). Narrative Means to Therapuetic ends. Dulwich Centre, USA

[alackofghosts]

i was tagged by @gloriousmonsters in the 11 questions meme - thank you!! these were really fun questions, so here it goes :-)

1. Of all the dreams you’ve had, which one do you recall the most clearly? this is from a couple of years ago: a well known estonian singer was substituting for the biology teacher. he says he doesn't know anything about biology, so he will take us to play golf instead - and i think "oh fuck i have no idea how to play golf! i don't want to play golf!" and i just freak the hell out over my inability to play golf. my solution to this particular problem was to climb a tree on the way, and i woke up just as the well known estonian singer was trying to reason with me that if i managed to climb that tree, i can easily also climb down.

2. Who was the first character you were really drawn to/liked? hard to say, to be honest! the first one i can remember with any real clarity was gaara from naruto? but i was 12 at the time, so it's possible i had had other Big Faves before that, but i don't really remember.

3. What are 3 of your favorite scents? lilac, fresh bread, and coffee

4. What would you put on your gravestone if you knew you were going to return from the dead at some point in the future? a winky face after the date of my death, to add a touch of whimsy and mystery to the situation.

5. What’s your favorite nonfiction topic to read about (currently)? history of aviation has been a favourite of mine for many, many years! though to be honest, i haven't been reading a lot of nonfiction just for the heck of it lately.

6. If you’re a writer, quote 1-2 of the favorite lines you’ve written recently. If you aren’t (or don’t feel like it) quote 1-2 you’ve read. "We stopped at perfect days and got out of the car. The wind glanced at her hair. It was as simple as that. I turned to say something—" it's by richard brautigan - i figured it's appropriate, with part of it being my blog title for such a long time!

7. What song have you listened to way too much recently? wild young hearts by noisettes

8. What’s your favorite __punk genre, at least in theory? Or propose one you think would be neat. dieselpunk! of course it would depend on how it's done, but i adore batman: the animated series and problem sleuth that kinda play into that noir mixed in with more modern aspects and i just think it's really neat. there's also...solar punk, i think it's called? the little i've seen of it, it is so incredibly visually pleasing to me, with all the greenery and bright colours.

assuming we're talking about that kind of -punk! i actually don't have many opinions on it as a music genre haha.

9. What movie most perfectly expresses your aesthetic? i can't think of a movie that got my aesthetic perfectly as a whole, but almost every scene in dunkirk hit some points of it, as far as visuals go! it had exactly the right shades of blue, lots of big open skies and the sea...

10. If you were a Dark Lord, what would your ideal second-in-command be like? level-headed and orderly, if i wanted to actually get anything done as a dark lord haha :'D

11. Would you want to live - not forever, but until the general end of the human race, assuming your brain would cope with it fine? my first instinct is to say yes, tbh. though in the end it i would probably have conditions under which i definitely would not like that!

[fpbaps-blog]

Be A Questioner – Peel Back The Onion Of Society

Be A Questioner – Peel Back The Onion Of Society ​A questioner can be defined as someone who questions all expectations and they will meet those expectations if they can justify, to themselves, that it makes sense to do. I was listening to a podcast where the author, Gretchen Rubin, of the book “The Four Tendencies” coined this phrase and I couldn’t help but notice that it described me. She talks about this tendency when assessing people’s personality to allow an individual to change their own habits faster and more effectively. I look to dive into this a little deeper and evaluate how being a questioner can help any person unveil the inconvenient truth’s around them. George Carlin, one of the best comedians/modern day philosophers, has talked about frequently that we must question everything. It’s something that is for the most part, looked down on. You see it in all aspects of life from politics, religion, all the way through to parenting, and fitness. No one likes to get questioned because it either challenges their authority or at the very least it challenges their intellect. In schools they like to say there isn’t such a thing as a bad question but in reality, kids still don’t ask questions because fear of alienation from there peers or fear of frustrating the teacher. In politics you see it all the time where politicians are questioned about topics that are influenced by them rather then answer questions that are relevant to the sustainability of the society. I digress but the point is that because people fear to ask questions, several dysfunctional patterns have developed in society that prevent the progress of the very things I blog about like sustainability, performance, health, medical, efficiency and the mind. The funny thing about questions is if you ask the right ones, it’s only a matter of time before the lies are unraveled. If someone is telling the truth, it’s only natural that eventually your questioning will lead to truth. Deceit has a way of deceptively hiding under many layers but just like an onion, the way to its core is by peeling those layers back. Ill describe a couple of those dysfunctional patterns in our society to help you become more aware of deception and pick away at those layers people so conveniently rap their lies around. ​When someone or a group becomes too dogmatic then you have a clear indicator that something is up. You might say that the group Functional Patterns (FP) could be considered dogmatic to a degree. I would say it doesn’t because dogmatic is defined as laying down principles that are incontrovertibly true. The principles at FP are linked to facts that connect to our origins and human biology that can be proven with our very eyes and scientific facts. Similar to quantum field theory, discovered by Albert Einstein and connected to our environment and diets by Jack Kruse, is backed with concrete facts. The concepts I blog about known as the inconvenient truths, once peeled all the way down, get to concrete truths not lies and deceptions like you see today. People and the environment change over time so it’s only natural that you grow with that evolution to allow for an effective practice of any kind. Dogmatic behavior rarely changes and if it does, it’s usually just to serve a monetary need to continue its practice of passing along its dogmatic knowledge. Typically you’ll see with groups or people that are very dogmatic is that they will always ask for money and look to keep you as a long time annuity for their cause. I’m not saying you shouldn’t get paid for your services because we all need it to survive in society. There is a price for all services but are the services you’re purchasing sustainable? When you peel the onion back of these dogmatic groups or people, you’ll find they’re looking to indoctrinate you with their beliefs to serve a monetary gain and doesn’t serve to benefit you at all. If these groups or people don’t promote sustainability and efficiency then you have another clear indicator of deception. Add that with dogmatic behavior and monetary gain and you have a compelling argument for a fraudulent group, business or person. ​People become emotionally invested in the investment of time they have to their practice. This is the next behavior you find when you keep peeling back the onion. Any time you see a leakage of emotions specifically the violent ones like anger, frustration, then beware. Society builds this habit of being invested in the time we spend on what we do. It’s like the theory of the American dream; work hard, pay your dues, stay in line and eventually you’ll be successful. Anyone with half a brain or some real world experience knows that the American dream is an illusion and the world doesn’t work in this systematic fashion. This is most prevalent behavior from people who have spent their whole lives working towards degrees, doctorates, certifications you name it. Then the second someone challenges these people, they flash this piece of paper in front of your eyes declaring that, “You don’t know shit, sit down and just let me do my job” I’m paraphrasing but that’s typically how that conversation goes. I’m not saying these people aren’t intellectual, smart or educated in what they do. The problem is that these degrees close the minds of these individuals leaving them unable to grow and see different perspectives. I have known many people who go through these doctorate programs where they cram as much information as possible and rarely retain any of the information. How is that an efficient way to learn? These degrees tend to develop dogmatic behavior in practice and people become overly invested with the time they put in making them unlikely to evolve or change. Another thing you’ll see is that these people will toss all these research and peer reviewed studies at you to support their way. Doesn’t this tactic seem familiar? Tobacco, drug and food industry do the very same thing because they know an overload of information confuses the individual. “Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts” – Sherlock Holmes This information overload is simply an attempt to twist facts to support theories that financial benefit the people in these practices. I’m not saying all people with doctorates and degrees behave this way, I’m just giving an example that illustrates how most people or groups in these situations behave. Some might say I have an investment of time towards what I do and that I would be emotional if I was challenged too. I have of course invested a great deal of time in what I do but when you peel that onion you won’t see deception or financial gain at the end. All you will find is one man, collectively with other like minded individuals, working to uncover the inconvenient truth’s that have been in our blind spots this whole time. But by all means question away I look forward to answering any questions you may have. Now, one great example everyone can understand to illustrate the fraudulent behavior in society. The medical field is a great example deceptive behavior with prescription drugs and diabetic patients. Diabetics get their daily prescription of pills and insulin every month paying these drug companies for their services but over the last decade, diabetes rises. Jack Kruse has shown with the implementation of his leptin prescription (process, not a drug) that you can eliminate or at the very least minimize the devastating affects of diabetes. The cost for this service is a certain amount at the beginning, which leads to a life style change and an education of your own body. Then you’re on your way to grow and explore your new body. No financial annuity for Jack and a sustainable human that has expanded there life without the side effects of drugs and their past disease. However, the indoctrination of the medical field constantly puts out conflicting evidence about how diabetes is developed and makes it clear that without these drugs you won’t live very long. Is that really the case or are they more worried about losing them as an annuity for life? It’s hard to believe they care about curing diabetes when it has increased in America to 24 million cases, which is 8 percent of the population. 90-95 percent of cases are type 2 and cases have increased 90 percent over the last ten years. In a society that is developing innovative technology every year in the medical field it’s hard to believe it’s possible for cases of diabetes to be increasing at this alarming rate. Regardless, people still invest money in these foundations for research for a cure that already exists. Of course that would mean that investment of time would be for nothing after all these years but once again, the indoctrinations of these social structure restricts us from progression. The investment of time shouldn’t matter and you shouldn’t leave the answer to a serious illness to people who only look to make money off of you and increase there bottom lines. A questioner is someone who acts intentionally not habitually (Naudi Aguilar) and looks for reason rather then faith for there actions. Society looks to silent questioners with these deceptive manipulations employed across every industry to keep the status quo. My objective is to open your eyes to the habitual behavior that you have been manipulated to do through these indoctrinations from all these industries. The tools are in your hands to peel the onion back and reveal the deceptive nature of society. Start to understand that being wrong doesn’t mean failure but rather progression and success. I have been wrong numerous times and I understand that it readjusts the course I’m on which is towards truth. Einstein spent 10 years working to just prove his theories to the scientific community because they were so invested and dogmatic. I’ve noticed people are uncomfortable around me because people who know me know I’m always scanning for little details, body language and other things during conversation. The truth is there is enough garbage in the world that I don’t need to subject myself to it anymore then I have too. I think though people aren’t uncomfortable with me but really it’s with them. There vulnerable self is something they have been hiding or don’t accept which makes them uncomfortable. It all comes back to peeling back those layers to find the true meaning of whatever you’re looking into. Ask the right questions and you’ll eventually find your way to the truth. References http://gretchenrubin.com/happiness_project/2015/01/ta-da-the-launch-of-my-quiz-on-the-four-tendencies-learn-about-yourself/ http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2008/11/18/new-diabetes-rate-up-90-percent-in-last-decade.aspx

[raydaug]

Listening when they Speak

I’m not fan of monster girls. They are an incomprehensible fetish to me, and the fact that pretty much every prominent series that has featured them has been harem schlock hasn’t done much to endear me to the idea.

Not to mention that I find them genuinely kind of terrifying. The opening scene of Monster Musume, which features the main character suffocating to death while a lamia coils him in her sleep, awakened fears in my when I watched it that that I didn’t even know I had.

But as is usually the case, there’s nothing inertly wrong with the idea of monster girls, it’s just that the idea hadn’t been put to good use yet. Interviews with Monster Girls (or Demi/Ajin-chan wants to Speak), a manga and now anime, uses the idea of monster girls to great effect to tell stories about living with disability, illness, and other chronic conditions.

This isn’t a new observation or interpretation of the series. In fact, hearing about it was the whole reason I decided to even check it out in the first place. Still, I think it’s something worth talking about, if only to get the word out to more people. 

Interviews with Monster Girls is about Takahashi, a high school biology teacher who’s always had an interest in ajin, or demi-humans. Demi-humans are widely known, if exceedingly rare. While they did face prejudice and persecution, society has grown to accommodate them over time. Takahashi tried to do research on demi-humans in college, but was unable to arrange any meetings. Now, there are three demi students and a teacher at his school, marking it as the highest concentration of demi. Takahashi gets to know the demi, helping them navigate school life with their conditions while also sating his own curiosity on the subject matter.

Hikari, the vampire, is the demi featured most prominently through the series.  An energetic girl who’s fundamentally good hearted, but who’s need to be the center of attention can sometimes get her into and cause trouble.

Despite her desire to drink blood, Hikari’s day to day life more closely resembles that of someone with diabetes or anemia than it does of a Lord of the Undead. Managing her vampirism on a daily basis mostly involves managing her diet to make sure she’s getting enough iron. Other than her fangs, there’s virtually nothing distinguishing her from a regular human.

Yuki, a yuki-onna, is also outwardly very normal, though her condition is a bit more severe. Her body is perpetually cold, and can occasionally produce ice from bodily fluids. After moving away from her home and support network to go to school, she withdrew from close physical contact to avoid potentially hurting people.

She reads a lot like someone living with chronic diseases, such as HIV. The folk stories about yuki-onna are nearly universally tragic, ending in hurt and sadness. Convinced that she can only end up hurting people, she decides the best thing to do for everyone is to disengage. With some help from Takahashi, she receives some education on her condition and learns that she isn’t a treat to people around her, and is able to go back to living a relatively normal high school life.

The real star of the series, though, is Machi, who upholds Japans fascination with one of the more esoteric fantasy creatures, the dullahan. Machi’s head and body exist independently from one another, though they are still one entity.

Machi’s condition isn’t her primary concern. She and her family have learned that, with come caveats and accommodations, she can live a regular, independent life. Instead, Machi just wants to be accepted socially.

She’s treated nice enough by her classmates, but she can tell that any time that conversation turns to her being a dullahan, her classmates become uncomfortable and try to avoid the topic as much as they can. Instead of ignoring it, Machi wishes that that they could become comfortable enough around her that they could joke about her condition.

When she goes to Takahashi, he explains to her in kind of an incredible scene that she needs to be the one that establishes what is and is not okay for her peers to do. If she demonstrates what kind of jokes are okay to make about her being a dullhan, then her classmates will be more comfortable making jokes themselves.

Unfortuantley, the series falters a bit when it comes to the math teacher and succubus Sakie.

There are two big problems with Sakie. First and possibly the biggest is that, if we want to continue to read this series as a thin metaphor of disability, then succubus are a danger population standing in for a non-dangerous one. Unlike other demi, succubus effect other people directly via their powers of seduction. Direct contact or even enough exposed skin is enough to instill strong lust in someone. Not only that, but they also project erotic dreams when they sleep, meaning that not only does this greatly effect where Sakie can live, but it means that succubus are a problem, socially. The government has even formed a police for dealing specifically with succubus related crimes.

It’s the same problem that The X-Men has. While the intent may be a story about tolerance and acceptance and fighting for equal rights, the fact that the group in question possesses traits that actually make them dangerous to the greater population at large undercuts that theme by making and suspicion and prejudice they face justified because they are actually dangerous.

There are also some uncomfortable undertones with regards to female sexuality. Namely, that it is Sakie’s job to manage other people’s consumption of her sexuality.

Luckily, the series doesn’t lean too hard into either of those angles, and even manages to salvage the situation. Twice, Takahashi is exposed to her seductive powers, once by accident while helping her pick up some stuff, and another time deliberately while they were talking about being a succubus. Both times, Takahashi no-sells the seduction, even though he was definitely feeling it.

It draws a clear line between feeling and behavior. Just because Takahashi felt a certain way, and was even made to feel a certain way, doesn’t give him the right to act on that feeling.

I myself caught myself up with the manga, which is a short, breezy read, but the anime airing now so far (which granted is just two episodes) has so far been one of the better adaptations I’ve seen in a while. Unlike something like Kobayashi-san’s Maid Dragon, which is too faithful to be very interesting, the anime adaptation of Interviews with Monster Girls has taken some great artistic license, adding scenes that contribute greatly to the series. Most notably, the first episode adds a scene with Saikie where she explains to Takahashi how he’s overstepping her personal boundaries and tells him to stop, which he does.  The worst thing I can say about the anime so far is that it’s an A-1 Pictures joint, with all the included baggage.

It may not be a perfect series, but it’s at least trying something different with what I had previously thought to be a pretty worthless genre. Interviews with Monster Girls is totally worth checking out and I highly recommend it.

[statrano]

Learn Smarter, Not Harder: 5 Essential Google Classroom Apps

A few weeks ago, I got an email from Nancy with a great suggestion for an article topic: Google Classroom. She writes from her perspective as a Kansas City teacher who loves teaching and blogging. I think you’ll enjoy her ideas on essential apps for her Google Classroom:

Not much time has passed since Google Classroom first entered K-12 and higher ed classes, outmaneuvering all other classroom software providers with its availability and a great variety of apps.

A well-known fact: A large portion of every teacher’s workflow is actually consumed by the assignment review, collecting the student work, notifying the class about upcoming events, changes in the timetable, revision, and grading.

In Google Classroom many educators like me found a great additional functionality and apps, which allowed managing the workflow efficiently, leaving more time for the teaching.

In our school we started using Google Classroom LMS as a way to collect, review and grade the assignment, now we use it as a basis for creating greater learning opportunities becoming real due to the apps that hugely extend the functional set and diversify the learning.

Questioning the students

Because Google Classroom doesn’t have the functionality for building interactive quizzes I started searching for the app that would make the answering process engaging for my students, that’s when I stumbled upon Quizlet. Sure thing, simple questioning can still be performed in the Google forms, but Quizlet is what helped me to make the whole process engaging and interactive at once. Here the learners use the study cards, play educational games, and take tests that will be graded automatically.

At recess, I usually input the new vocabulary words in Quizlet, with cards and audio files so that students could access them later while doing the homework.

Checking the written assignments

Before we adopted Google Classroom, I used to check all of the essays in my class via Google Search, copying and pasting the written fragments of text into the browser if I had doubts. This kind of quality control of the written assignments appeared to be kind of random and ineffective. Even if I didn’t find the matches on the web, it didn’t certainly guarantee the student wasn’t just recycling brother’s or sister’s essay from the previous year.

  For now, there’s only a one similarity checker available for Google Classroom, and, luckily for me, it solves all problems I mentioned. Unicheck helps to scan the assignments across the internet, open access repositories and private databases, generating the report automatically and landing them on my email. Lately, I discovered they also have a plagiarism checker Google Docs add-on that is very convenient for students as they can pre-check their writing independently.

Helping without interrupting

In general, in Google Classroom you can create announcements, ask something, and get a reply. Using such features, our class formed a thread dedicated to the particular topic, let it be the extra important reminder, a permission form for the trip or the documentary we saw in the class.

It was a good option. Still, reminders serve the purpose in a very limited way. GoGuardian chat helps to communicate important announcements personally so that no one in the class gets interrupted. I send announcements to the particular student or the entire class when needed, for this, the particular class should be in the active mode. Thus, when we have Biology class I’m able to see, read and message the students in the Biology class; with my Cytology students, I’m interacting only when I set the Cytology class as active. No more mess in the classroom.

Making the grading transparent

Grading assignments in Google Classroom is not always an easy thing. Sooner or later you face situations when you have to explain to someone their grade in details, point out the gaps in the knowledge, and light the way to the personal improvement. Now I can’t find the better way to do this than using personalizing grading rubrics in ForAllRubrics. I create the class and put there the names of the students, select the pre-made rubric format or create my own. For example, the essay’s main part should include an argument and at least 2-3 supportive points, if I can trace those in the text the student gets more grading points for each with an understanding that hides behind the final grade.

ForAllRubrics is very convenient as after grading I can get daily class reports and weekly progress reports. The data considering my class’s progress is measurable; basing on it, I can judge where we are going and where we are at the moment regarding the whole program.

Taking virtual trips together

Learning complex concepts in classes can be a struggle. While some students perfectly absorb textual information, the others need real examples to fully imagine how things work. In NearPod, teachers can find the variety of interactive lessons already recorded to apply them in your class, including the virtual field trips. While the lesson is presented on the main screen, the students can also see the presentation on their own devices, asking the questions or giving the responses to the answers.

Being connected to their own devices students don’t have to worry about skipping valuable information. They can always get back to the point missed and catch up.

As well, in NearPod, students can go through the interactive quizzes and polls, actively participating in the classroom’s workflow.

To sum it up

What I found the most compelling about Google Classroom, is that the teacher actually makes an emphasis on growing the problem-solving and teamwork skills of the students rather than focusing on secondary things such as revision and lesson planning routines. If you’re already using Google Classroom, just find the right applications that will help you challenge, engage, and teach your students more effectively.

— Nancy is an enthusiastic teacher, author, editor and blogger based in Kansas City. She earned a Bachelor of Science Degree in Biology at St. Petersburg College and has been educating high schoolers for over seven years. Technology has always been her second lifelong passion. After getting her master’s degree in Technology and Learning at Western Governors University, she participated in “The Impact of Digital Technology on Learning”  research. That’s when she first realized that every teacher can transform the daily classroom routine into engaging and exciting experience.  By this time, she had accumulated many stories, personal teaching tips, and daily workflow lifehacks that she shares through blogging. You can find her articles on ed tech educational sources like teach.com, teacherswithapps.com, students.org, and collegelifestyles.org.

More on Google:

4 Great Alternatives to Google Classroom

How to Use Google Apps

What is Google Keep and Why Use it in Your Classroom?

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 25 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-8 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CAEP reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, and a weekly contributor to TeachHUB. You can find her resources at Structured Learning. Read Jacqui’s tech thriller series, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days

Learn Smarter, Not Harder: 5 Essential Google Classroom Apps published first on https://seminarsacademy.tumblr.com/

[evnoweb]

Learn Smarter, Not Harder: 5 Essential Google Classroom Apps

A few weeks ago, I got an email from Nancy with a great suggestion for an article topic: Google Classroom. She writes from her perspective as a Kansas City teacher who loves teaching and blogging. I think you’ll enjoy her ideas on essential apps for her Google Classroom:

Not much time has passed since Google Classroom first entered K-12 and higher ed classes, outmaneuvering all other classroom software providers with its availability and a great variety of apps.

A well-known fact: A large portion of every teacher’s workflow is actually consumed by the assignment review, collecting the student work, notifying the class about upcoming events, changes in the timetable, revision, and grading.

In Google Classroom many educators like me found a great additional functionality and apps, which allowed managing the workflow efficiently, leaving more time for the teaching.

In our school we started using Google Classroom LMS as a way to collect, review and grade the assignment, now we use it as a basis for creating greater learning opportunities becoming real due to the apps that hugely extend the functional set and diversify the learning.

Questioning the students

Because Google Classroom doesn’t have the functionality for building interactive quizzes I started searching for the app that would make the answering process engaging for my students, that’s when I stumbled upon Quizlet. Sure thing, simple questioning can still be performed in the Google forms, but Quizlet is what helped me to make the whole process engaging and interactive at once. Here the learners use the study cards, play educational games, and take tests that will be graded automatically.

At recess, I usually input the new vocabulary words in Quizlet, with cards and audio files so that students could access them later while doing the homework.

Checking the written assignments

Before we adopted Google Classroom, I used to check all of the essays in my class via Google Search, copying and pasting the written fragments of text into the browser if I had doubts. This kind of quality control of the written assignments appeared to be kind of random and ineffective. Even if I didn’t find the matches on the web, it didn’t certainly guarantee the student wasn’t just recycling brother’s or sister’s essay from the previous year.

  For now, there’s only a one similarity checker available for Google Classroom, and, luckily for me, it solves all problems I mentioned. Unicheck helps to scan the assignments across the internet, open access repositories and private databases, generating the report automatically and landing them on my email. Lately, I discovered they also have a plagiarism checker Google Docs add-on that is very convenient for students as they can pre-check their writing independently.

Helping without interrupting

In general, in Google Classroom you can create announcements, ask something, and get a reply. Using such features, our class formed a thread dedicated to the particular topic, let it be the extra important reminder, a permission form for the trip or the documentary we saw in the class.

It was a good option. Still, reminders serve the purpose in a very limited way. GoGuardian chat helps to communicate important announcements personally so that no one in the class gets interrupted. I send announcements to the particular student or the entire class when needed, for this, the particular class should be in the active mode. Thus, when we have Biology class I’m able to see, read and message the students in the Biology class; with my Cytology students, I’m interacting only when I set the Cytology class as active. No more mess in the classroom.

Making the grading transparent

Grading assignments in Google Classroom is not always an easy thing. Sooner or later you face situations when you have to explain to someone their grade in details, point out the gaps in the knowledge, and light the way to the personal improvement. Now I can’t find the better way to do this than using personalizing grading rubrics in ForAllRubrics. I create the class and put there the names of the students, select the pre-made rubric format or create my own. For example, the essay’s main part should include an argument and at least 2-3 supportive points, if I can trace those in the text the student gets more grading points for each with an understanding that hides behind the final grade.

ForAllRubrics is very convenient as after grading I can get daily class reports and weekly progress reports. The data considering my class’s progress is measurable; basing on it, I can judge where we are going and where we are at the moment regarding the whole program.

Taking virtual trips together

Learning complex concepts in classes can be a struggle. While some students perfectly absorb textual information, the others need real examples to fully imagine how things work. In NearPod, teachers can find the variety of interactive lessons already recorded to apply them in your class, including the virtual field trips. While the lesson is presented on the main screen, the students can also see the presentation on their own devices, asking the questions or giving the responses to the answers.

Being connected to their own devices students don’t have to worry about skipping valuable information. They can always get back to the point missed and catch up.

As well, in NearPod, students can go through the interactive quizzes and polls, actively participating in the classroom’s workflow.

To sum it up

What I found the most compelling about Google Classroom, is that the teacher actually makes an emphasis on growing the problem-solving and teamwork skills of the students rather than focusing on secondary things such as revision and lesson planning routines. If you’re already using Google Classroom, just find the right applications that will help you challenge, engage, and teach your students more effectively.

— Nancy is an enthusiastic teacher, author, editor and blogger based in Kansas City. She earned a Bachelor of Science Degree in Biology at St. Petersburg College and has been educating high schoolers for over seven years. Technology has always been her second lifelong passion. After getting her master’s degree in Technology and Learning at Western Governors University, she participated in “The Impact of Digital Technology on Learning”  research. That’s when she first realized that every teacher can transform the daily classroom routine into engaging and exciting experience.  By this time, she had accumulated many stories, personal teaching tips, and daily workflow lifehacks that she shares through blogging. You can find her articles on ed tech educational sources like teach.com, teacherswithapps.com, students.org, and collegelifestyles.org.

More on Google:

4 Great Alternatives to Google Classroom

How to Use Google Apps

What is Google Keep and Why Use it in Your Classroom?

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 25 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-8 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CAEP reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, and a weekly contributor to TeachHUB. You can find her resources at Structured Learning. Read Jacqui’s tech thriller series, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days

Learn Smarter, Not Harder: 5 Essential Google Classroom Apps published first on https://medium.com/@DigitalDLCourse

[olibiostasis-blog]

KEY STAGE 3 RESEARCH

(SKETCHBOOK 2 PAGES 10-13)

In my folder you’ll be able to find my research on KS3 curriculum and lesson plans regarding the topic of food chains and ecosystems if you want to see specifics of what I found. I think going over the main points I’ve found through my research would be more productive to put on my blog instead of boring you with a load of waffle on everything single thing I’ve found as I think you wouldn’t read this post properly and this is a very integral part of our app. When talking to Adam about our target audience initially he said that our target age was too broad and suggested we targeted a certain Key Stage group, so we decided to target Key Stage 3, which is ages 11-14 because we feel that these ages are when one starts to understand the concept of trophic cascades and food chains. This age group is when people start to understand the concept of taking responsibility for your actions  which is where the idea of the app stemmed from, because when we brainstormed what made us angry in the first semester global warming is something that came up which clicked with Cameron, so he wanted to make something that informs the user the importance of not messing with nature even though this isn’t completely linked to global warming, the story of the trophic cascade in Yellowstone National Park shows the importance of not messing with the natural course of an ecosystem so hopefully this can translate to the students doing what they can to not do anything that can mess with their environment. When we knew the age group I then searched up a load of teaching lesson plans and curriculums to find terms and main objectives when teaching this subject. The whole reason for this app is to be used along side the teacher in the class room so if the mechanics and information is modelled after how and what they teach in Biology and Geography. The main objectives of most lesson plan I’ve looked at is: ⦁ To Spot chains within a food web ⦁ to be able to construct their own food webs and chains ⦁ understand energy transfer and loss within a food web ⦁ explore different habitats’ food webs

These objectives are supported by teaching the kids some key words so they understand what is happening in the context of the situation. These keywords are: ⦁ Habitat ⦁ Producer ⦁ Consumer ⦁ Herbivore ⦁ Omnivore ⦁ Carnivore ⦁ Energy ⦁ Population ⦁ Organism ⦁ Photosynthesis ⦁ Predator ⦁ Prey ⦁ Primary consumer ⦁ Secondary consumer ⦁ Tertiary consumer ⦁ Web ⦁ Chain A couple of these words can be used outside of the info box, for example we want the numbers showing the separate variable’s populations on screen and updating every time something changes, hopefully the user will be able to spot this and make the correlation between the word and what’s happening. I think learning like this will be very effective for the class room because it allows the user to learn in the context they’re exploring instead of being taught it, listening to the teacher first then applying what they’ve been told to a worksheet. Teaching in this interactive way adds an extra aspect of interaction and engagement. The info box will be the main place that teaches the children these key words  for example when something changes within the app to do with the trees then the key word PRODUCER can be bracketed next to it or if the tree population rises then we can say that this could be because of PHOTOSYNTHESIS and so on.   Lesson plans generally structure the lesson from introducing the concepts of food chains and the flow of energy within food web then showing examples of food chains to developing their understandings of it then ends with something that quizzes what they’ve learnt. I honestly think that apps with the same concept of ours/premise as ours could change how teachers teach in the classroom because it allows more active / hands on learners to learn the concept of what’s being taught whilst being able to change/manipulate what’s happening, it adds an aspect of discovery learning where it previously wasn’t there. The main thing that records that the student has learnt from the lesson is that there’s an activity or quiz at the end of the lesson giving them the opportunity to put it all into practise by them by them creating something like a food web or chain, so I think it’d be a good idea to have an activity like that to do whilst they’re still using the app. I’m going to mind map some ideas of what we could do whether that be a food chain, web or even some how integrate energy transfers within that.