#class 12 computer book

[bibleofficial]

i just think it’s funny that raspberry pi seems to plan their releases around that of apple’s

[sagarrachnagrp]

CBSE 2023 Question Bank Class 12 Computer Science for Board Exam Preparation

‘Together with’ CBSE 2023 Question Bank Class 12 Computer Science includes chapter wise important questions with important terms & definitions. Guidelines for project work and step wise programs codes have been included within the Best Reference Book for 2024 Board Examination. Practice Papers included within CBSE Question Bank Class 12 Computer Science brings learning at a prominent base for best results.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in the quiet section

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, established relationship, college!au, smut, p in v sex, semi public sex, caught, unprotected sex

“i didn't even know this part of the library existed.” rafe looks around at the tall bookshelves holding various very large textbooks.

“it's all the polisci books, hence why no one is over here.” you say as you move deeper into the section, to the isolated grouping of tables. you knew you already got lucky convincing your boyfriend to study, you don't want to push your luck by having him get annoyed with other students watching him.

rafe sets his computer bag down and pulls out his laptop, putting his back to the windows so he can keep an eye down the aisles of books, just in case anyone comes wandering by.

“okay.” you sit down next to him, pulling your chair closer. “i know your physics class is hard, but i also suck at physics so i don't know how much help studying im gonna be.”

“just having you here…” rafe trails off. you feel a flush come to your cheeks, rafe always managing to give you butterflies even though you've been together on and off since high school.

“okay.” you clear your throat, knowing you don't really need to be quiet with no one around. only the top floor of the library ever manages to stay silent, all the serious studiers know to immediately take the elevator up. “let's get started on the study guide i got from tiffy.”

your friend had a friend who had a friend who took the same physics class rafe is taking, and of course you convinced them to give you some study materials. it's not like you had to work hard, with rafes reputation on campus being what it is.

rafe nods and turns his attention to the crisp stapled together papers. you work with him through the questions, learning yourself as well for when you have to eventually take the class, wishing you chose a degree that didn't require so much natural science.

your focus shifts between sneaking looks at rafe and helping him, his brow furrowed and jaw hard set as he studies, making him look even more handsome than you thought possible.

“baby-” rafe groans, resorting to a pet name to get your full attention as you blink harshly. “you're distracting me.”

“you're the one being distracting.” you argue back, placing your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand, admiring your boyfriend unabashedly now that you've been caught.

“you're the one sitting there with that look on your face.”

“what look?” you hum out, lost in the thought of ripping rafes pants down and-

“that look.” rafe groans. “that fuck me look.”

“well i do want you to fuck me.” you smirk. “i always do.”

“shit.” rafe leans back in his chair, and your eyes naturally move down his defined body, his loose shirt falling into his muscles, his jeans already starting to tent at the crotch.

you move your chair even closer, pressing your lips against rafes jaw. “i want you.”

you place a hand on his thigh, leaving it still for mere seconds before moving up, rubbing over his hardness, feeling ever inch of his length as it grows.

you know he needs relief from pressing against the zipper, undoing the button and pushing the two sides of his jeans further open so you can reach in, gripping his cock over the fabric.

“you're so naughty.” rafe tsks. 

“you're just too hot to resist.” you kiss rafes jaw again, knowing you can't be too obvious above the table, just in case.

your hand moves under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as your palm presses against his cock, watching with fascination as rafes eyes flutter closed.

“god you can't even go 24 hours without needing me.” rafe smirks, his voice dripping with cockiness.

truth is, it's been less than 12 hours since you spread your legs for rafe last night, moaning and holding back screams as he pumped into you in your shared dorm room, having paid off the university to get you on the married couples floor despite not having a ring on your finger.

you ignore the urge to pull rafes cock out and drop your mouth around him and slurp and suck for anyone to hear.

you stand up suddenly, making rafes body physically jerk as he loses the sensation of your touch.

you move around the table, humming softly to yourself as you make your way down the aisle directly in front of rafe, bending down, feigning looking for a book on the bottom shelf.

you know damn well your short skirt is putting your underwear on display for rafe as you grab a book with one hand while pulling your underwear down with the other, revealing your already wet pussy.

you let your panties fall to the ground as you stand up, book in hand. you snatch them off the ground and make your way back to rafe, whose mouth might as well be watering with the intense look of hunger and need on his face.

you drop the book onto the table, letting it clatter as you stuff your underwear into rafes jean pocket.

“cock out.” you hum.

rafe listens quickly, not usually one to follow yours or anyone else's orders, but he certainly won't push back against this one as he shoves his underwear down to underneath his balls, his cock standing at attention and ready for you.

you step between him and the table, rafes hands coming to grab your hips and stop you from sitting down too quickly. he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your cheeks over your skirt, hard enough to leave a bite mark and have you swallowing a moan.

rafe tugs you down, retaking control of the situation as he pushes you onto his cock in one smooth motion, and this time you can't help the sound that escapes your mouth, a whine of pleasure and pain as your walls are instantly stretched.

“you think you'd be used to me by now.” rafe chuckles in your ear, pushing you forward to rest your elbows against the table.

to anyone walking by, it would look like you were studying while sat on your boyfriends lap, and with your boyfriend being rafe, most people would scurry quickly away, not paying enough attention to realize your hips are moving up and down and rafe is gripping one of your thighs tightly while his other arm is wrapped around your waist.

“shit.” rafe moans quietly. “you're so warm.”

the air whooshing over your behind every time your skirt flounces as you move up and down adds to the shiver that runs down your spine.

“this is why-” you gasp as you sit up a little straighter to make it easier to bounce on his cock, feeling your pussy swallow him in with every movement inwards before gripping like your body doesn't want to be apart when you try to move. “this is why we never get any studying done.”

“because you're a whore for my cock?” rafe chuckles, his voice quiet as footsteps are heard, but they continue up the stairs to a different floor.

“because you always look too fucking good to not let you fuck me.”

rafes hips begin to snap upwards with the compliment. he's never had a problem getting girls, and experimented with other women during your breaks, but nobody moves him the way you do, you're the only one he can stand being with for any time longer than a night, the only one whose opinion he really cares about.

you're no longer being so subtle as your fingers dig into the wood grain of the table as rafes hands grip your hips, helping you move up and down in time to his hips raising up off the chair.

“you're gonna walk out of here filled with my cum.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk on his face, knowing how much he loves marking his territory and leaving his claim on you.

“and you're gonna walk out of here with my wetness covering your cock.” you also smile, just as territorial as rafe is. you knew he was the one for you when no other cock could satisfy you, always wishing it was rafe until you got back together, your very last time apart.

“damn right.” rafe hums, hands fisting and gathering bunches of your skirt up so he can watch your ass as it moves, jiggling every time you sit fully down on his length.

“fuck.” you groan, body drooping forward as the elevator dings. you can hear the doors open as someone gets off on your floor.

you sit up straighter as rafe leans in, letting your skirt fall back around you, hiding the fact that he's inside of you at this very moment.

you listen closely as whoever it is walks down an aisle before getting a book off the shelf. you hope they'll walk away, but instead they continue towards your table until you see a college kid with headphones on you've never seen before.

you hope he'll see the two of you and flee, but he doesn't seem to notice as he sets his bag down on a chair before pulling out the one next to it.

“rafe…” you whisper as you feel his hips start to rock back and forth. “ssss… stop.”

you're not really concerned about a student seeing you, but you really don't want anyone to report you to the library.

“hey, kid.” rafe calls out, making the student jolt in surprise and look up, eyes widening as he realizes who he's looking at, but hopefully not what.

“fuck out of here.” rafe says, and the kid runs away and down the stairs faster than you thought possible.

“such a dick.” you chuckle, immediately beginning to move.

“says the one bouncing on my dick right now.” rafe chuckles. “you wanted him gone too.”

you place your hands on the table, ignoring rafes teasing as he starts to push up into you, putting all the strength you have left in your tired legs into your movements.

rafe reaches around your front and presses two fingertips against your clit, rubbing harshly knowing he can't last much longer and needs to get you there too, wanting to cum together.

“f-fuck.” you whine out, voice turning high pitched. “please. close.” you manage to say.

rafes cock swells inside of you and you can tell that he's not far either as he delivers a few finishing thrusts into your wet pussy before he bursts with a moan of your name, cum pumping into you as his fingers continue at the same pace.

you smack your ass down against his lap as you cum, his cock pushing so far inside of you that you swear he's in your womb.

his fingers play with your pulsing clit as you ride out your highs together until you suddenly become sensitive, having to shove his hand away to keep from crying out.

you are both breathing heavily, you slumped forward against the tabletop while rafe is slack against the back of the chair.

“shit.” rafe chuckles. “i completely forgot everything we just studied.”

you clench your pussy to keep from leaking as you pull off his cock, moving quickly to the seat next to you as your thighs almost immediately give out.

“well.” you lean back, both looking exhausted. “i'm gonna need a while before i can walk, so get back to it.”

rafe redoes his pants and leans forward to look back at the study guide, resigning to his fate as your eyes droop closed.

[crownofgildedlilies]

late nights

pairing: aizawa x reader summary: Shouta really ought to expel whoever told Eri that Santa comes every night in December... wc: 3.7k event masterlist

Rarely did you ever see Shouta Aizawa after dark.

It wasn’t that he was an extrovert to begin with, you knew, but somehow it became even harder for you or Hizashi Yamada to drag your friend out to pretend to be social after he took on the caretaker role of little Eri. You were pretty sure it wasn’t healthy for someone to spend such little time with who he probably considered his best and only friends, or maybe he was drowning in responsibilities attached to teaching Class A and training Eri. 

You were honestly a little worried about him.

Or maybe you were just overly sensitive to the number of times you saw Shouta in a day because of your embarrassingly immense feelings for your fellow UA teacher.

Nights were a struggle. They were long, and cold, and lonely—they let your mind wander to unimportant things, like whether or not Shouta was joining everyone for dinner the following night to celebrate Yamada’s successful launch of a school-wide news broadcast—and you had tried every trick in the book to calm your mind enough to finally fall asleep. 

The teacher’s dormitories at UA were more like individual apartment units, with a common area furnished with couches, a television, and several computers for when you couldn’t separate yourself from your work. 

Deciding that if you were going to be awake, you might as well be productive, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and shuffled out of your unit and into the common area. Once in the hallway, you heard the faint sounds of a television playing softly in the otherwise silent night. 

Must be Vlad, you reasoned as your slippered feet padded towards the couches. He had a similar habit to you of staying up far later than he should, and the blinking 12:01 on your alarm clock you checked before retreating from bed told you that he was likely to be the only one you were going to run into. 

“Santa?” A tired, tiny voice called out through the darkness.

Eyes adjusting to the darkness and minimal light coming from the television—an old Christmas special you remember watching a few times as a child—you spotted the source of the voice. Small head peeking out from over the back of the couch, little Eri was staring at you with wide eyes. 

“I told you,” A gruff voice you’d recognize anywhere replied to the small girl before you had finished processing what you were looking at. “Santa comes one night in December. The twenty-fourth.”

Shouta.

“Not true!” Eri, as sweet a child as she was, was still only a child. Which meant she grew more whiny the more tired she got. And from the exasperated sigh Shouta let out, you realized both of them were probably very tired.

“Sorry, honey,” You cooed, moving closer towards the couch and trying to avoid looking at Shouta, who dropped his head back against the cushions at the sound of your voice. “But Mr. Aizawa is right. Santa only comes once a month.”

“But Deku’s friend said—!”

“And when I find out which of Midoriya’s friends told you Santa comes every night, I’ll have one less student on my roster.” As you rounded the couch to stand in front, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the stressed out look on Shouta’s face, the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers. 

“Stop it.” The command left you in a snort, and you settled gently onto the couch opposite Eri while still wrapped in your blanket. You’d known Shouta long enough to know he was just talking tough, but he’d never expel a student for anything less than their own good. “You adore those kids.”

“This is the fourth night in a row she has refused to sleep because she’s been so excited.” His voice was even as he finally turned to face you overtop Eri’s head, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. At least, more pronounced than usual. “Trust me, I don’t adore them that much.”

You snorted a laugh, and Eri giggled, though you were certain that she didn’t know what was so funny.

“Right, well, grumpy—” You sent a playfully teasing look to Shouta in an attempt to make the young girl sitting between the two of you smile. A personal goal of yours from the moment you had met her. “Eri is probably just overtired at this point. C’mere, sweet girl.”

Opening your arms, you gestured for her to climb into your lap. In the months she had been at UA, you’d spent a considerable amount of time watching over her when Shouta had classes or other business he couldn’t bring a child too, which meant you had earned her trust—something you very much valued. 

Eri let out a yawn as she settled into your arms, sitting sideways in your lap and resting her head against your chest. You could feel Shouta’s eyes watching your every movement, but you pushed aside the threat of a blush and focused on slowly rocking her from side to side. 

“Turn it off, will you?” You hummed quietly, nodding your head in the direction of the television still playing the holiday movie. When Aizawa made no move to reach for the remote, you lifted your gaze from Eri’s face to see what was holding his attention and found that he was already watching you. “Shouta?”

“Right,” He snapped out of his trance, leaning forward to snatch the remote off of the coffee table and turn the television off without further distraction. 

Silence finally settled over the room, and it only took a few minutes longer for Eri to finally fall asleep in your arms. Even still, you waited an extra moment before nodding to Shouta that you had accomplished his goal of getting her to rest despite her excitement. 

“Thank you,” He breathed, scrubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion. You offered him a smile and tried to think about anything other than how warm your face felt in the dim room. “I know I shouldn’t indulge her in staying up so late, but after everything she’s been through…”

“I get what you mean,” You murmured, and with the hand that wasn’t supporting Eri’s back, you reached out and squeezed his arm. “I did a lot of the paperwork regarding Overhaul, remember?”

You had been sick to your stomach for weeks after you found out just what the young yakuza head had put the poor girl through, and you hadn’t even been part of the team that took part in the raid to rescue her. You understood what Shouta meant when he said he couldn’t bear to take the excitement she felt away.

Even if it meant she was staying up until midnight every day in December, falsely waiting for a Santa Claus that would only come once a year. 

“I should get her to bed, finally.” Shouta stood from his end of the couch, and you carefully sat up taller to transfer the slumbering girl from your arms to his. 

“Next time you can’t get her to sleep,” You start in a soft voice so as not to wake Eri, and Shouta pauses in his retreat to his rooms to turn and look at you. It takes a moment to remember what you planned to say, your focus briefly knocked off kilter by the full force of his attention. “Knock on my door so I can help.”

“Are you sure?” There was an edge of hesitation in his voice, though you could tell he didn’t like the idea of bothering you so late at night. But he was too rational to think he could do it all himself, especially with all the responsibilities he took on. 

“Of course,” Smiling as bright as you could, you tried to assure him that you were fine with possibly being woken up at midnight. But if it was to help Eri, help him, then you would suffer a few late nights. Despite his initial reluctance, you watched more of the fight leave him in the subtle sag of his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I hadn’t meant it.”

“Alright,” He agreed, adjusting Eri in her arms so that her head laid more comfortably on his shoulder. “Goodnight, then.”

“Night, Shouta.”

And if your eyes followed his retreating figure longer than what was probably polite, it was no one’s business but your own.

Despite your worrying the previous night, Shouta had shown up to Mic’s celebration dinner the following day. 

Eri had been in tow, though she had been the one tugging Shouta into the restaurant by the hand, excitedly cheering that she wanted to sit between you and Zawa. You had readily accepted Eri’s request to sit beside you, and spent the dinner fluidly entertaining the young girl and holding conversations with your friends around the table. 

And maybe it was your imagination, but you could have sworn you felt Shouta’s attention falling to the side of your face on more than one occasion in the evening. 

“You look like a little family!” Mic teased towards the end of the night, clearly having over indulged in the wine on the table. 

“You look like you’re going to need a cab home,” You had fired back, sipping the water in an attempt to cover the heat threatening to warm your face. Your comment distracted the table, earning you laughter and good natured jeers towards Mic, but Shouta remained quiet. 

And you knew you weren’t making things up when he seemed determined to look anywhere but you for the remainder of the night.

You were still throwing a pity party for yourself hours later, back on campus and in the safety of your assigned room. It was nearing midnight, your clock told you, but your eyes were far from heavy and your mind was still running wild with ideas for the next day. 

Then came the knock. 

Two knocks. 

You hated how quickly you grinned, knowing what those two knocks meant. You hadn’t expected him to use the deal you had created so soon, but you weren’t going to back out of it as you padded softly through your apartment towards the door. 

Swinging it open, you were wholly unsurprised to see a wide awake Eri cradled in Shouta’s arms, his face darkened with exhaustion. 

“Happy Christmas!” Eri cheered once she saw you, and despite the late hour and her refusal to sleep on time, you couldn’t help but smile at her excitement. So unfamiliar for her. 

“Merry Christmas, and you should be asleep by now.” You gave her a pointed look, though any reprimanding you attempted was far overshadowed by the smile on your face. Shifting your attention to Shouta, you gave yourself a moment to take in his appearance on your doorstep. Dark hair disheveled from trying to put Eri to bed, tired eyes laden with exhaustion to the point that you worried he might pass out standing. “You should be asleep, too.”

“She’s refusing, again.” He explained, shifting his attention from you briefly to glare playfully, lovingly, at Eri. The sight made your chest warm, and your smile softened from one of amusement into one of adoration. “I wouldn’t ask, but I have training with Shinsou early in the morning, and I can’t stay up with her.” 

“You don’t need to give me an explanation, Shou,” You rolled your eyes with a tease, reaching out to take Eri from him. She came easily, and though she clearly was forcing herself to stay awake, you could tell by the way her head fell to your shoulder that she only needed some gentle urging and she’d fall asleep. 

You looked back to Shouta, expecting him to be preparing to leave with Eri settled in your arms, but you found him looking at you instead. 

Eyes slightly wide, hands clenched in fists at his sides, mouth pressed into a firm line. The expression could be misconstrued for annoyance, but you knew Shouta better than that. He was watching you, holding Eri, with an expression that was entirely too familiar.

You could have sworn he was looking at you the same way you usually looked at him. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Shouta, seeming to regain his focus again, cleared his throat and dropped his stare from you. “Thank you for this.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” You reminded him, but he only pinned you with a final look, like he was trying to chastise you for not accepting his gratitude the same way he tried chastising Eri. 

Not that it really worked on either of you. You both knew how much of a softie he really was. 

Eri shifting around in your arms brought you back to reality, and with a final glance at Shouta’s retreating figure, you closed your apartment door behind you. With a pointed look, you frowned at the young girl.

“Time for bed. Santa isn’t coming tonight.” You reminded her, and she sighed like she knew her games would only work on Shouta—not you. Like the previous night, you settled on the couch with her in your arms, rocking side to side gently. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Her tiny, tired voice replied, and though you considered that it might only be a distraction to stay up a bit later, you relented. 

“Only if I can ask you one after.” 

“Why did Zawa’s face get all red when he said I was coming here?” 

“I’m not sure,” You fight the flush threatening to climb up your own neck at her innocent words. You didn’t think that Shouta had it in him to blush, but hearing that he so obviously did—to the point where Eri noticed—was hard to comprehend. You needed to change the topic. “My turn. Which of Deku’s friends told you about Santa coming each night?”

“The lightning one.” She replied through a yawn, rubbing at her eyes. 

Denki Kaminari. 

“Ah,” Your lips curved up into a grin. If you had guessed, you probably would have thought it was him. “For his sake, don’t tell Mr. Aizawa that.”

“Okay.” Eri smiled sleepily before snuggling into your shoulder. You knew you needed to get her into the spare bed she was taking over for the evening, but you were enjoying her sweet company. “I like spending time with you. And Mr. Mic told Zawa he’s not as grumpy when you’re around. I think so too.”

Suddenly, any attempt you were making to not freak out over what the sweet girl was saying became nearly impossible. You just hoped she wouldn’t go back to Shouta and tell him how red your face had gotten.

“I like spending time with you, too.” You decided on answering with, hoping that it was enough to settle her curiosity.

You’d have to yell at Yamada for putting ideas in Eri’s head later. 

And Denki Kaminari, too. 

After a week of Eri staying up far too late, you and Shouta decided you needed to put a stop to it. The sweet girl had been so tired even Mirio had mentioned that she seemed grumpy and out of character. Eri needed to go to sleep at a reasonable time and in her own bed. 

Which brought you to your current predicament—trying to convince yourself that your heart wasn’t going to beat out of your chest as you sat on the edge of Eri’s bed and twisted to face her, Shouta standing directly behind you. 

Mic had teased you and Shouta about playing house on more than one occasion. If he had seen you then, both tucking Eri into bed, you wouldn’t be able to convince him that you weren’t. 

“Santa only visits good girls who go to bed on time. Do you want me to tell him you haven’t been listening?” Shouta tries to use ration against Eri, and if it weren’t for the look of horror on the young girl’s face, you would have laughed. Instead, you jammed your elbow back and into the muscle of his thigh in reprimand.

“I’ll be good! I’ll go to sleep!” Eri hurries to clamber under the covers, and while she’s distracted, you shoot a glare over your shoulder at Shouta. 

You nearly do a double take when you find him grinning down at you, arms crossed and clearly amused at the situation. 

“Remember what we talked about, Eri.” You try to hide your grin at Shouta’s teasing by turning back to the child you’re supposed to be tucking into bed. Adorably, she has the covers pulled up to her nose and her eyes screwed shut so tight her face is scrunched up. “Santa comes once a year, and only when you’re asleep.”

She keeps her eyes shut, and nods stiffly. 

“Good girl,” Shouta hums, clearly satisfied that she isn’t refusing to even get in bed like she had for the entire month so far. “Now, sleep.”

She nods again, and you press a palm over your mouth to keep from laughing. You stand as gently as you can before slipping out of the room silently. 

Suddenly, you’re standing in front of Shouta as he closes the door soundlessly. You’re too close, or maybe not close enough, in the cramped hallway with only a few inches separating you. It’s a little exhilarating, having to tilt your head to look up at him while he studies you just as closely. 

You think, distantly, that you’d like to kiss him. 

“Stay for a drink?” He murmurs, and you’re not sure if it’s to keep Eri from overhearing or to not burst the quiet bubble surrounding the two of you, but you’re positive that you don’t care either way as long as he keeps looking at you as intensely as he currently was. 

“Yeah, okay.” You agree, hating how you sound a little breathless. 

It’s not your first time being alone with Shouta, but in all the years you’ve known him, it’s never felt so intimate before. Maybe it was because it was the evening, or that you had worked as a team to tuck Eri into bed, but something had shifted between the two of you.

Something had been shifting. 

You followed him into the kitchen where you climbed onto one of the stools sitting at the island counter. It was silent as he opened the fridge to pull out two beers, and it was still silent as he opened one of the cans and handed it to you. 

“Thank you for this.” His words carried through the kitchen as he settled onto the stool beside you, and you knew he meant more than just staying for the drinks. 

You twisted on the stool to face him, your knees pressing into his thigh and head propped on your fist. He didn’t turn to face you, but you could tell he felt the weight of your stare in the way he held his can between his hands, how he pushed his thigh back against your knees in both acknowledgement and acceptance of their presence. 

“You take care of so many, Shouta. Who takes care of you?”

You hadn’t meant to ask that question. Not really. But it had always been on your mind. He gave his all to those around him; Yamada, his students, Eri. 

He took care of you, too. Offering to stay late to help you grade or plan, helping brainstorm ways to push your students to the absolute maximum of what they were capable of. 

“I guess I’ve never thought about that.” He answered over a sip of his beer, and the honesty in his voice nearly cracked your heart open. 

You wanted to take care of him.

“Shouta,” The call of his name finally earned you the prize of his attention, and you didn’t hesitate as you leaned forward to press your lips against his gently. 

At first, it was only a desperate need for him to know how much you cared for him that had you acting. Kissing him was the only logical conclusion to those feelings, a final attempt to show him how much he meant to you without tripping over the words you had never been able to force out. But when you felt Shouta kiss you back? When you felt the fervent press of his lips just as urgent against yours?

His hand, cold from the can he had been clutching so carefully a second before, curved to the side of your neck with his thumb notching just under the side of your jaw. A possessive touch, and one you absolutely could get used to. Leaning even further into him, you set a hand on his leg to balance yourself between the two stools. 

But somewhere between Shouta pulling you even closer by the hand on your neck and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip, you managed to hear tiny, sock-clad feet pad into the room. 

“I thought I heard bells!” 

You shot away from Shouta like he electrocuted you, one hand shoving at his chest to separate the both of you despite the act being seemingly impossible only seconds before. Your chest rose and fell quickly, out of breath from both the shock of seeing Eri standing in the kitchen and what had just transpired with Shouta. 

“What did I say about getting out of bed?” Despite having been shoved from his stool, Shouta himself seemed relatively relaxed about the whole situation, and for the first time, you cursed his rational head. 

Except, in the dim lighting, you managed to spot the faint blush creeping up his neck. 

“No Santa!” Eri gasped, hands slapping over her mouth like she was in shock she had forgotten before she turned and ran back down the hallway towards her bedroom. 

Shouta shook his head in amusement, then turned towards you, a determined look in his eyes that almost made you shiver. 

“I’ll put her back down.” He promised. “Then we can talk.”

About the kiss. You flushed brightly just thinking about it, and you watched as the hint of a smile twitched in the corner of his lips. 

“I’d like that.” You murmured sincerely, and with a final glance to make sure you weren’t running off, he followed Eri down the hall at a much more relaxed pace. 

You pressed the tips of your fingers against your lips, still tingling even with Shouta in a different room. And for a moment, you considered that maybe Kaminari was right, after all. 

Maybe Santa came more than one night a year.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

NLRB rules that any union busting triggers automatic union recognition

Tonight (September 6) at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

American support for unions is at its highest level in generations, from 70% (general population) to 88% (Millenials) – and yet, American unionization rates are pathetic.

That's about to change.

The National Labor Relations Board just handed down a landmark ruling – the Cemex case – that "brought worker rights back from the dead."

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-08-28-bidens-nlrb-brings-workers-rights-back/

At issue in Cemex was what the NLRB should do about employers that violate labor law during union drives. For decades, even the most flagrantly illegal union-busting was met with a wrist-slap. For example, if a boss threatened or fired an employee for participating in a union drive, the NLRB would typically issue a small fine and order the employer to re-hire the worker and provide back-pay.

Everyone knows that "a fine is a price." The NLRB's toothless response to cheating presented an easily solved equation for corrupt, union-hating bosses: if the fine amounts to less than the total, lifetime costs of paying a fair wage and offering fair labor conditions, you should cheat – hell, it's practically a fiduciary duty:

https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1086/468061

Enter the Cemex ruling: once a majority of workers have signed a union card, any Unfair Labor Practice by their employer triggers immediate, automatic recognition of the union. In other words, the NLRB has fitted a tilt sensor in the American labor pinball machine, and if the boss tries to cheat, they automatically lose.

Cemex is a complete 180, a radical transformation of the American labor regulator from a figleaf that legitimized union busting to an actual enforcer, upholding the law that Congress passed, rather than the law that America's oligarchs wish Congress had passed. It represents a turning point in the system of lawless impunity for American plutocracy.

In the words of Frank Wilhoit, it is is a repudiation of the conservative dogma: "There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect":

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

It's also a stunning example of what regulatory competence looks like. The Biden administration is a decidedly mixed bag. On the one hand there are empty suits masquerading as technocrats, champions of the party's centrist wing (slogan: "Everything is fine and change is impossible"):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

But the progressive, Sanders/Warren wing of the party installed some fantastically competent, hard-charging, principled fighters, who are chapter-and-verse on their regulatory authority and have the courage to use that authority:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/18/administrative-competence/#i-know-stuff

They embody the old joke about the photocopier technician who charges "$1 to kick the photocopier and $79 to know where to kick it." The best Biden appointees have their boots firmly laced, and they're kicking that mother:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

One such expert kicker is NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo. Abruzzo has taken a series of muscular, bold moves to protect American workers, turning the tide in the class war that the 1% has waged on workers since the Reagan administration. For example, Abruzzo is working to turn worker misclassification – the fiction that an employee is a small business contracting with their boss, a staple of the "gig economy" – into an Unfair Labor Practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/10/see-you-in-the-funny-papers/bidens-legacy

She's also waging war on robo-scab companies: app-based employment "platforms" like Instawork that are used to recruit workers to cross picket lines, under threat of being blocked from the app and blackballed by hundreds of local employers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

With Cemex, Abruzzo is restoring a century-old labor principle that has been gathering dust for generations: the idea that workers have the right to organize workplace gemocracies without fear of retaliation, harassment, or reprisals.

But as Harold Meyerson writes for The American Prospect, the Cemex ruling has its limits. Even if the NLRB forces and employer to recognize a union, they can't force the employer to bargain in good faith for a union contract. The National Labor Relations Act prohibits the Board from imposing a contract.

That's created a loophole that corrupt bosses have driven entire fleets of trucks through. Workers who attain union recognition face years-long struggles to win a contract, as their bosses walk away from negotiations or offer farcical "bargaining positions" in the expectation that they'll be rejected, prolonging the delay.

Democrats have been trying to fix this loophole since the LBJ years, but they've been repeatedly blocked in the senate. But Abruzzo is a consummate photocopier kicker, and she's taking aim. In Thrive Pet Healthcare, Abruzzo has argued that failing to bargain in good faith for a contract is itself an Unfair Labor Practice. That means the NLRB has the authority to act to correct it – they can't order a contract, but they can order the employer to give workers "wages, benefits, hours, and such that are comparable to those provided by comparable unionized companies in their field."

Mitch McConnell is a piece of shit, but he's no slouch at kicking photocopiers himself. For a whole year, McConnell has blocked senate confirmation hearings to fill a vacant seat on the NLRB. In the short term, this meant that the three Dems on the board were able to hand down these bold rulings without worrying about their GOP colleagues.

But McConnell was playing a long game. Board member Gwynne Wilcox's term is about to expire. If her seat remains vacant, the three remaining board members won't be able to form a quorum, and the NLRB won't be able to do anything.

As Meyerson writes, centrist Dems have refused to push McConnell on this, hoping for comity and not wanting to violate decorum. But Chuck Schumer has finally bestirred himself to fight this issue, and Alaska GOP senator Lisa Murkowski has already broken with her party to move Wilcox's confirmation to a floor vote.

The work of enforcers like DoJ Antitrust Division boss Jonathan Kanter, FTC chair Lina Khan, and SEC chair Gary Gensler is at the heart of Bidenomics: the muscular, fearless deployment of existing regulatory authority to make life better for everyday Americans.

But of course, "existing regulatory authority" isn't the last word. The judges filling stolen seats on the illegitimate Supreme Court had invented the "major questions doctrine" and have used it as a club to attack Biden's photocopier-kickers. There's real danger that Cemex – and other key actions – will get fast-tracked to SCOTUS so the dotards in robes can shatter our dreams for a better America.

Meyerson is cautiously optimistic here. At 40% (!), the Court's approval rating is at a low not seen since the New Deal showdowns. The Supremes don't have an army, they don't have cops, they just have legitimacy. If Americans refuse to acknowledge their decisions, all they can do it sit and stew:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/26/mint-the-coin-etc-etc/#blitz-em

The Court knows this. That's why they fume so publicly about attacks on their legitimacy. Without legitimacy, they're nothing. With the Supremes' support at 40% and union support at 70%, any judicial attack on Cemex could trigger term-limits, court-packing, and other doomsday scenarios that will haunt the relatively young judges for decades, as the seats they stole dwindle into irrelevance. Meyerson predicts that this will weigh on them, and may stay their hands.

Meyerson might be wrong, of course. No one ever lost money betting on the self-destructive hubris of Federalist Society judges. But even if he's wrong, his point is important. If the Supremes frustrate the democratic will of the American people, we have to smash the Supremes. Term limits, court-packing, whatever it takes:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court

And the more we talk about this – the more we make this consequence explicit – the more it will weigh on them, and the better the chance that they'll surprise us. That's already happening! The Supremes just crushed the Sackler opioid crime-family's dream of keeping their billions in blood-money:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/11/justice-delayed/#justice-redeemed

But if it doesn't stop them? If they crush this dream, too? Pack the court. Impose term limits. Make it the issue. Don't apologize, don't shrug it off, don't succumb to learned helplessness. Make it our demand. Make it a litmus test: "If elected, will you vote to pack the court and clear the way for democratic legitimacy?"

Meanwhile, Cemex is already bearing fruit. After an NYC Trader Joe's violated the law to keep Trader Joe's United from organizing a store, the workers there have petitioned to have their union automatically recognized under the Cemex rule:

https://truthout.org/articles/trader-joes-union-files-to-force-company-to-recognize-union-under-new-nlrb-rule/

With the NLRB clearing the regulatory obstacles to union recognition, America's largest unions are awakening from their own long slumbers. For decades, unions have spent a desultory 3% of their budgets on organizing workers into new locals. But a leadership upset in the AFL-CIO has unions ready to catch a wave with the young workers and their 88% approval rating, with a massive planned organizing drive:

https://prospect.org/labor/labors-john-l-lewis-moment/

Meyerson calls on other large unions to follow suit, and the unions seem ready to do so, with new leaders and new militancy at the Teamsters and UAW, and with SEIU members at unionized Starbucks waiting for their first contracts.

Turning union-supporting workers into unionized workers is key to fighting Supreme Court sabotage. Organized labor will give fighters like Abruzzo the political cover she needs to Get Shit Done. A better America is possible. It's within our grasp. Though there is a long way to go, we are winning crucial victories all the time.

The centrist message that everything is fine and change is impossible is designed to demoralize you, to win the fight in your mind so they don't have to win it in the streets and in the jobsite. We don't have to give them that victory. It's ours for the taking.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks

[georgemilesirl]

Zero Day headcanons

These are really stupid and scattered!!!

Andre

He HATES changing his clothes. Or even just talking off/adding a layer. He sleeps FULLY clothed and in whatever he was wearing during the day, even if it’s a suit or something.

He was a huge Alanis Morissette and Fiona Apple fan but this was a secret he took to his grave because he thought it was embarrassingly girly.

He loved bullshit long songs. He put The End by The Doors on every mix CD he and Cal made together and insisted it should count as one song even though it’s 12 minutes long.

Had very few family members in his age group and felt super outcast cuz of it.

Went for a run every day and would usually eat a weird combination of foods after. Like pregnancy cravings level weird. Wouldn’t eat at any other point in the day without being reminded because he would just forget.

Was huge on the Battle of Britpop when he first got a computer. Went in the SHITTIEST forums ever.

Very poor hand-eye coordination (especially when he was young) and gets very easily frustrated when he can’t do something because of it.

When he was too upset to pay attention in class, he would write out his feelings in his notebook, but he would do it in German so no one could read them.

Cal

Always wakes up late if he doesn’t have an alarm

Considered going through Zero Day on his own on several occasions for the spontaneity of it. Couldn’t because he didn’t have access to guns without Andre.

Went through a very bad depression during junior year. As soon as his parents started to be concerned about it, he seemed to be okay again (because he and Andre started planning Zero Day).

Had a large collection of knives which he had to hide from his parents because they didn’t approve. Kept out only a few of them which had been given to him but were very dull.

Was a huge comic book fan as a kid, gave the collection to his brother.

Wrote a lot of songs which he would play in his room but never show anyone.

Rachel

Her favorite book is always whichever one she read last

Loves fruit flavored mentos

Stayed home on Zero Day because she was hungover. Everyone assumed Cal had told her the plan and that was the real reason she stayed home. Some went as far as to say she probably helped them make the plan, but she never got seriously considered by the cops.

Summer camp counselor

Was originally planning to go to college for English but pivoted to social work in hopes of being able to help people like Cal.

Family

Cal’s brother sometimes considered shooting up the school as he grew up because everyone compared him to Cal anyway. He never actually did it, but he often thought he might as well. When he told his parents this, they moved to a new town where less people realized who they were.

Andre’s brother was already a teenager when he was born and had multiple kids by the time he’d finished elementary school. He blamed himself for Zero Day because he was so distant and living his own life.

Andre’s parents invited Cal’s to a family reunion about five years after Zero Day happened but Cal’s parents threw away the invite as soon as they even saw the name Kriegman on it.

Interactions

Andre’s parents trusted him to be home alone, so sometimes they would leave town for a week or so. He would have Cal stay over for some of it and they would pretend the house was only theirs and do stupid domestic shit. Cal was banned from cooking because he couldn’t even make toast without burning it.

Andre and Rachel went to Hebrew school together for a few months after Andre moved to town. He was CONVINCED Rachel hated him and would tell her off even though she wasn’t even doing anything.

Andre’s family would bring Cal on trips with them because they went on much more vacations than Cal’s family ever had. They were planning a tour of Europe as a graduation gift, but Cal and Andre never actually thought about it because of Zero Day.

Cal tried to teach Andre guitar but gave up when Andre got so frustrated, he threw the guitar hard enough to break it. He bought him a new one within days but wasn’t allowed to touch it after.

Cal and Rachel fake dated in middle school to try to get people to stop teasing Cal for being gay. It didn’t work.

These were really fun to write so feel free to give me requests for more!!!

[bunniebubbleswrites]

Nightmares

Larissa Weems x F! Reader Request: Hiya bunnie how are you? I hope your well..I was wondering if I could request a Larissa x FemReader where reader has a lot of nightmares that keep her up so she doesn’t sleep well, really ever..so therefore our beloved principle catches her awake at extremely late hours of the night? Thank you!! Much love ❤️ A/N: I am doing great! This was actually super fun to write! I also have trouble sleeping so I thought this request was kind of funny! Warnings: None it's just pure fluff Words: 1905

5:30 am

You laid awake in your bed staring at the dark ceiling, every time you closed your eyes it was just nightmare after nightmare. You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually gotten a good night's sleep. It was always a few hours here and a few hours there. You sighed and pulled the comforter off yourself. You sat on the edge of your bed staring down into the darkness. 

You glanced up at the digital alarm clock, the glowing numbers read 5:30. You had to be up in half an hour anyways. You leaned over your nightstand and turned your light on. 

You walked over towards your wardrobe and pulled out a long sleeve dress that went down to your ankles. You slipped it on over your head and grabbed your tennis shoes and put them by the door before heading into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and the dark bags under your eyes were more evident than ever. You grabbed your makeup bag from the counter and dug through it looking for your concealer. You would hide the fact that you had trouble sleeping forever if you had to. You skillfully applied the concealer under your eyes and blended it out with your finger. 

5:50 am

You walked back into your bedroom and walked over to your nightstand and grabbed your watch off your nightstand and slipped it onto your wrist adjusting it to make sure it stayed in its place. You looked down at your watch, checking the time. You walked over the door and slipped on your shoes and looked through your bag making sure you had everything for your classes that day. 

“The Picture of Dorian Gray, notebook, pencil case, computer, keys. Ok I have everything.” You mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your cardigan off of the trunk at the end of your bed and slipped it on. Grabbing your bag you slipped out of your room and checked your watch once again. 

6:01 am

You had plenty of time to go set up your classroom and make your way back to the staff room to get coffee. You made your way out of the hall where all the teacher’s sleeping quarters were and started for your classroom. 

6:13 am

It was a quick 12 minute walk from the teacher’s sleeping quarters to your classroom. It was a walk you made every day. You knew the path by heart. You pulled out your keys and unlocked your classroom door. Once you walked into the classroom you flicked the lights on setting down your bag in your desk chair. You went over to the windows and opened up the blinds letting some natural light filter into your classroom. 

You walked back over to your desk, pulling out your computer and setting it on your desk along with the book your students were reading, and your notebook and pencil case on the side next to them. 

You set your bag down next to your desk and looked over your classroom and noticed that the floor needed to be swept so you went over to a closet in the back of the room and pulled out a broom and dust pan. Sweeping the floor only took about ten minutes. 

6:45 am

You checked your watch once again and decided your classroom was in good enough shape. The floor had been swept, the desk cleaned off. You grabbed your keys off your desk and locked the room behind you as you left. 

You walked towards the staff room hearing the chatter of your colleagues grow louder as you got closer. You walked into the room and there sat at the table was Larissa, Marilyn and Vlad. You gave them all a small smile and walked over to one of the cupboards that was above the coffee machine. 

You looked up into the cupboard looking for your mug and you found it on a shelf you could not reach. Not wanting to pull anyone away from their conversation, you stood on the tips of your toes trying to reach your mug on the top shelf wondering who put it there in the first place. 

You felt a presence behind you as you saw a pale hand reach for your mug and gently hand it to you, her hand brushing yours. “Thank you Larissa.” 

“It’s not a problem, you could have asked for help earlier.” She smiled at you as she reached for the coffee pot. 

“I don’t know who put it up there.” You laughed slightly, your face flushing just slightly. She offered to pour your coffee for you and you gladly accepted. She took the mug from your hands and poured the rest of what was left in the pot into your mug. 

She handed it back to you and set it on the counter and walked over to the fridge and pulled out the creamer. 

“Hey, guys I'm finishing off the creamer, I'll go out on Saturday and get some more.” You looked at the group sitting at the table. 

You poured the last of the coffee creamer into your mug and threw the container away.  You started another pot of coffee and went to sit down at the table with the other three people in the room. 

“You seem awfully energetic today.” Vlad said as you sat down at the table with a wide smile on your face. You glanced up at the coach and shook your head bashfully. 

“It’s the coffee I guess.” You laughed lightly in response while taking a sip of your coffee. 

8:00 am

You sat at your desk as students filled in for the hour. The bell rang through the classroom and you stood from your desk and addressed the students. 

“Okay class, take out your books and we’ll continue our reading from yesterday, after you all are finished we can have a class discussion about it.” You said giving them a smile and sitting back at your desk to finish grading papers. 

For a lot of your classes it was just the students doing independent work or catching up on things they missed or had not turned in yet. Lunch came and went and then classes resumed. 

4:07 pm

Finally the end of your day. You stood from your desk for the final time that day stretching out your stiff limbs. You closed your computer and packed up your things, running over everything to make sure you wouldn’t have to come back later. 

You slung your cardigan over your arms as you locked up your classroom. You yawned and made your way back to your quarters. Once inside you put everything in its rightful place. You walked over to your wardrobe and pulled out some thin gray sweats and a black tank along with a hoodie you had stolen from your dad a while back. 

You made your way over to the small kitchenette all the teachers had in their room. Of course you could use the big kitchen but this one was just more convenient. You grabbed out a pan from one of the bottom cabinets and filled it with water and waited for it to start boiling. Pasta again tonight. 

10:48 pm

You sat on your bed with a book in your hands, you turned the last page and let out a sigh. That's the third book you’ve finished this week and it was only Tuesday. You closed the book and set it on your night stand. You pulled the comforter over you. You were determined to get at least a good three hours of sleep tonight. 

12:58 am

You had been tossing and turning for hours, or that's what it seemed to be. You sat up, maybe some tea would help. You slipped on your shoes and made your way down to the teachers lounge. You had put your mug in place that you could actually reach this time. 

You pulled your mug out of the cupboard along with the tea and found the kettle to put some water on. You sat at the table in the lounge just scrolling away on your phone before you knew it, it was already 1 am. 

1:30 am

You were sipping on your tea and scrolling through your phone. You hadn’t seen her come in, you hadn't even heard the door open. You only noticed her presence when she had spoken. 

“(Y/N), what are you doing up so late?” Larissa was leaning on the door frame, her hair was down. It was a lot longer than you thought it would be. You shyly smiled at her. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied slightly holding up to show her your mug of tea. She smiled back at you and walked over towards you, sitting across from you. 

“Care to tell me why you couldn’t sleep?” Larissa asked you her blue eyes looking deeply into yours. 

“This might sound kind of silly,” You stopped mid sentence embarrassed. You looked at her as she nodded for you to keep going. “I couldn’t sleep because I was having nightmares.” You let out a pitiful laugh and looked back down to the mug in your hands. 

“No, it’s not silly at all,” Larissa gave you some positive reassurance. “Maybe we could go for a walk, just until you get tired.” 

You nodded and pocketed your phone. The two of you stood from the table in the staff room and walked out, your mug forgotten on the table. 

2:10 am

You and Larissa found yourself sitting in her office on the couch in front of the fireplace. Your head was resting on her shoulder and you just listened to her talk, you weren’ t even sure what she was talking about anymore all you knew was that you were tired. 

“(Y/N), do you want to rest your head on my lap?” 

“Hm?” You looked up at her in a haze of sleep. She let out a small laugh and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

You put your head back on her shoulder and she rested her head on your own, her own hand slipping into yours. 

6:10 am 

You woke up on the couch of Larissa’s office. Your face flushed when the memories from the night before came flooding back into your memory. 

“Oh good, you’re awake. Here I made you some tea.” She hands you a mug and you take it from her. 

“Thank you Larissa, that was the best I've slept in a while.” You smiled up at her as she sat down next to you. 

“The next time you have trouble sleeping, you’re more than welcome to come find me.” 

You nodded letting out a hum letting her know you understood the offer as you set your mug down on the floor. 

You both looked at each other for a moment before you pressed your lips to hers, your hands finding their way to her cheeks. It took a second but Larissa kissed back. 

“Oh my god I- I shouldn’t have-” 

“(Y/N) it’s okay,” Larissa flushed just slightly. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while actually.” 

You let out a small laugh as you took her hands in yours. You were never happier that you had been caught last night.

[stargazerbibi]

🪩🔮👾NEW SEMESTER, NEW PRODUCTIVITY CHALLENGE! 👾🔮🪩

hello again!! the fourth and last year of my bachelor's is starting! it's going to be a tough one, but i really want it to go well so here i am, making this, hoping it will guide and help me finish this degree once and for all!

this semester, i'll be taking:

Differential and Integral Calculus I

Differential and Integral Calculus III

Physics II ☑️

Analysis and Synthesis of Algorithms ☑️

Linear Algebra ☑️

152 DAYS (max.)

for the record, aside from algebra, i don't particularly enjoy any of these subjects, but i'm trying to face them with an open mind. my situation is not ideal, but i'll try to make the most of it. manifesting good things for this year <33

🌪️⛲☄️ GOALS ☄️⛲🌪️

-> pass all my classes: 3/5

-> complete my goodreads challenge: 23/25 ✖️

-> keep my Duolingo streak alive ☑️

🩷🌸🦑 FUN PLANS 🦑🌸🩷

-> re-read jjk: 12/21

-> go to the cinema ☑️

🌆🪸🪼 NOT FUN PLANS 🪼🪸🌆

-> organize my email ☑️

-> organize photos (computer, camera, phone)

-> organize my room after moving ☑️

🌌🎆🗻 COUNTERS 🗻🎆🌌

-> properly study Danish: 0 hours

-> movies watched: 13/10 ☑️ (last watched: The Two Popes, 2019, dir. Fernando Meirelles)

-> series watched: 11/10 ☑️ (last watched: Romantic Killer)

-> books read: 10/10 ☑️ (last read: I'm Glad My Mom Died, by Jennette McCurdy)

[exhaled-spirals]

« In classical antiquity, the upper classes of both Greece and Rome looked down upon standard notions of work. Nearly full-time leisure, otium, was among the entitlements of aristocracy in Rome. [...] In Plato’s Republic, no honor is attributed to business, which, it was understood, was done by vile mercenaries. [...]

Rest has not been a subject that philosophers have shown much interest in, but it has been taken up by the great French belle-lettrists. In A History of Rest, Corbin quotes Montaigne, Pascal, La Rochefoucauld, La Bruyère, Diderot, Joubert, Rousseau, and others on the subject. Pascal is perhaps most trenchant among them, for he understood that human beings both seek and detest rest. [...] The most famous of Pascal’s comments, from the notebooks he called his Pensées, is that “the sole cause of man’s unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.”

For Montaigne, rest was where tranquility was to be found, and tranquility precludes ambition. “Glory and tranquility,” he writes, “cannot dwell in the same lodgings.” For La Rochefoucauld, rest brings on retirement, in which “taste turns then to silent, insensible objects . . . a blissful state of the soul, which comforts it for all its losses, and which acts as a substitute for all good things.” For La Bruyère, “life is short and tedious, and is wholly spent in wishing; we trust to find rest and enjoyment at some future time, often at an age when our blessings, youth and health, have already left us.” Joubert held that “being deprived of rest means much to the soul. Rest is of no small matter to it. It represents a state where the soul is uniquely free to follow its own movement without outside impulses.” 

Most of us simultaneously seek rest and yet are wary of the boredom implicit in it. The contradiction would appear to be irresolvable. Perhaps the only creature known to resolve it is cats. In his Journal, Jules Renard writes that “the ideal of calm exists in a sitting cat.” He notes that “a cat, who sleeps twenty hours out of twenty-four, is God’s most perfect creation,” and goes on to remark on “the vitality of the cat, who appears so lazy,” adding that “laziness is the habit of resting before fatigue sets in.”

“The Right to Be Lazy” is the title of an essay by Paul Lafargue (1842–1911) [...]. Writing at the height of the Industrial Revolution, with workers, many of them children, working a 10-, 12-, sometimes 15-hour day, Lafargue held that such a heavy workload was, on all counts, unnecessary, indeed insufferable. Noting that the English had reduced their factory workday by two hours while the country’s production increased, he suggested eliminating “the fuming madness for work” in France and elsewhere. Evoking the “dizzying effect…limiting the workday to three hours [would] have on French production” Lafargue concludes his essay on this vocative note: “Oh, Laziness, take pity on our long destitution! Oh, Laziness, mother of the arts and noble virtues, be thou balm to human suffering!”

I may have achieved Lafargue’s ideal of the three-hour day. I rarely spent more than that at my computer, attempting to write essays, book reviews, short stories. I put in more time reading for some of this work, but then, I have never been able to consider reading real work. Writing is not an hourly job. Ideas, thoughts, notions, phrases, single words about things I am currently writing come to me at odd, which is to say just about all, times: upon waking, in the shower, when preparing a meal. [...]

Boredom does not worry me. I have been bored only in the company of bores, but never when alone. The world is too interesting, often too amusing, a place to allow for boredom. When not writing, or thinking about what I shall be writing, I find interest in contemplating the richness of life, its comedy, yes, its sadness. »

— Joseph Epstein, "Rest Easy"

[ms-demeanor]

sorry if you've answered this before, and i hope you don't mind me asking, how do you know so much about computers and what seems to me like everything in the world? how did you become so knowledgeable? it's amazing

i just know a little about a lot of things and I probably have a fair number of things that I've dug into more than most people and less than people who actually focus on that stuff! It's kind of an illusion!

I do know a lot about computers and that's because I've worked at a computer company for 12 years and have been deep into a computery subculture for about 20 years - I do genuinely know a lot about consumer computers. That I'll own and that's experience.

I know a fair amount about literature because I've got a degree in it!

I know a fair amount about journalism because I've got most of a degree in it and I worked with journalists for a long time!

I know a fair amount about nutrition because I've got most of a degree in it and because I've been focused on reading a lot about nutrition for more than a decade because of my own food issues!

But mostly I'm just someone who falls down rabbitholes and has a decent ability to recall what I find when I run down them.

Also I get curious about things and will just go. Experience them.

Like at some point i came across a site for people who own and use RealDolls and I got interested in learning more. The site required an application because they didn't want people just trolling so I applied and I ended up reading through the whole site and reading the magazines they sent out for years after because it was just interesting. The way these guys bought clothes or compared repair techniques and cleaning techniques, the way they constructed identities for their dolls - it was all interesting! So now I know about the proper way to store a RealDoll and how their skeletons are put together and the best way to prevent rips or clean inserts.

Now imagine that with everything.

I got interested in quack medicine so I ended up reading the entire back catalogs of quackwatch and science-based medicine.

I got interested in the history of aspartame as a scare-word and I ended up reading a couple of books, SEVERAL entire blogs with decades-long runs, purchasing a military magazine from the 90s, and submitting a FOIA request.

But, like. I don't own a RealDoll or work in that industry. I am not a medical professional. I am not a chemist who works with aspartame. So I get these weird little collections of information where I know what *seems* like a lot to someone who hasn't looked into it but I know a lot less than someone who has taken the time to actually dedicate themselves to that topic.

And sometimes it's a years-long dive and sometimes it's a months-long dive and sometimes it's a few hours of me digging online until I feel satisfied with what I've learned and I never come back to it, but I've got three more talking points than your average joe at a party would.

(Also though I've attended various colleges at various levels for ten-ish years now and I've taken probably more college-level classes on a lot of subjects than most people have because I've now spent several years just kind of kicking around at community colleges and deciding that a cartooning class sounds fun or that a mesoamerican art class fills certain transfer requirements or that I might as well brush up on spanish, french, and german. Access to low-cost college classes in california is a big part of this, and having the time and money to take classes while i'm working is something that I've been very lucky with)

I've also worked pretty much continuously since I was 18, sometimes holding multiple jobs at once, and I know a lot of interesting people who do a lot of interesting things and I ask them about their interesting experiences and if they offer me a chance to go do cool shit with them, like launch a high altitude balloon or blow up some dynamite that's about to expire or join a band, I do it!

I was also one of those kids who had no friends and spent too much time at the library so I'd do things like read through medical textbooks or pull a book of home chemical formulas out of the trash and read it or take it into my head that I was going to read all of Shakespeare before I got to high school so I was a really annoying twelve-year-old and that kind of thing never really let up.

I don't know! I don't think it's that unusual and I think most people do this kind of thing I just happen to have less focus than a lot of people and talk a lot more.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Recently, through Twitter, I have become aware of the fact that modern American parents have been very ignorant of their parental duties when it comes to their children. Parents are banding together to complain about the schools their children attend because their kids are getting bad grades in class, or they're getting detentions for doing bad consistently, or they're being held back because they're just not at the same level as their peers.

There was an entire thread of some woman whining about how the school was failing her kid, because his English class grade was so bad. There were thousands of comments agreeing and various reposts with anecdotes from other parents with similar experiences.

"My 26 y/o son can't even write a check for God's sake!"

And one single person finally replied with, "Do you guys not teach your kids anything at home before they start going to school?" Which then spawned people with actual common sense questioning the level of involvement these people had in the lives of their kids.

This is what led to a large surge of people complaining about how it's the school's job to teach them everything and they did their job just keeping them alive.

Now, I don't want to be mean, but it's gonna come across that way.

Parents are lazy these days.

When I was a child, my Nana and mom had me learning with Hooked on Phonics before I entered pre-K. I was 3 years old and already sounding out words that rhymed. I was practicing how quickly I could say them in under 30 seconds so I could progress to the next lesson.

mat hat sat that cat vat pat bat fat lat rat brat

etc...

When I was in pre-K(4 years old), they had a single, really old computer that had a bunch of Winnie the Pooh CD-ROM games. Because I always got my work done faster than everybody else, they let me use the computer because I could actually read and follow Pooh's instructions, and it kept me busy.

And when I entered kindergarten for the first time, I was really surprised to see that Hooked on Phonics was actually part of my curriculum and I was already very well ahead of everyone else. My mom and Nana took traching me very seriously. They not only read to me, but they would also get me Madeline books and cassette tapes from the children's library downtown. And then I would listen to the cassettes telling the story while reading the book at the same time to get used to the words.

At three years old, I was helping out in the kitchen, learning all of the different kitchen utensils and types of measurement. My mom often went between English, French and American Sign Language at random times so I picked up a lot of stuff that way. We never had a computer in the house for the first 12 years of my life, but I did have an old keyboard to learn how to type. Nana gave me basic piano lessons for a couple years. Mom taught me how to hem my clothes because she would buy me bigger clothes, hem them to size, and then let them out as I grew. Hell, Sperm Donor taught me how to write a check when I was 8. He was also a Financial Adviser, so I got a lot of lessons on money management, investments, and 401Ks and shit.

All these incredibly simple things ended up benefiting me later on, because I was so far ahead of all of the other students that it consistently put me at odds with them. I was better at reading, cooking, sewing, music, languages, etc... I was allowed time to do whatever I wanted while the rest of them had to catch up.

There is a lot more to being a parent than just making sure your kid eats three meals a day and doesn't die in a stupid way. And it seems like a lot of parents these days have completely forgotten that they have a duty to their kids beyond the feeding and clothing thing.

Certain things SHOULD be taught in schools, like how to balance a checkbook. But if it's clear that the school won't cover it, why aren't YOU doing something about that? And why do so many parents have no clue what the hell their kids are even getting up to in school? Why don't y'all get involved in your kid's lives?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Reverse engineers bust sleazy gig work platform

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/23/hack-the-class-war/#robo-boss

A COMPUTER CAN NEVER BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE

THEREFORE A COMPUTER MUST NEVER MAKE A MANAGEMENT DECISION

Supposedly, these lines were included in a 1979 internal presentation at IBM; screenshots of them routinely go viral:

https://twitter.com/SwiftOnSecurity/status/1385565737167724545?lang=en

The reason for their newfound popularity is obvious: the rise and rise of algorithmic management tools, in which your boss is an app. That IBM slide is right: turning an app into your boss allows your actual boss to create an "accountability sink" in which there is no obvious way to blame a human or even a company for your maltreatment:

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

App-based management-by-bossware treats the bug identified by the unknown author of that IBM slide into a feature. When an app is your boss, it can force you to scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Or it can steal your wages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But tech giveth and tech taketh away. Digital technology is infinitely flexible: the program that spies on you can be defeated by another program that defeats spying. Every time your algorithmic boss hacks you, you can hack your boss back:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Technologists and labor organizers need one another. Even the most precarious and abused workers can team up with hackers to disenshittify their robo-bosses:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For every abuse technology brings to the workplace, there is a liberating use of technology that workers unleash by seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/13/solidarity-forever/#tech-unions

One tech-savvy group on the cutting edge of dismantling the Torment Nexus is Algorithms Exposed, a tiny, scrappy group of EU hacker/academics who recruit volunteers to reverse engineer and modify the algorithms that rule our lives as workers and as customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Algorithms Exposed have an admirable supply of seemingly boundless energy. Every time I check in with them, I learn that they've spun out yet another special-purpose subgroup. Today, I learned about Reversing Works, a hacking team that reverse engineers gig work apps, revealing corporate wrongdoing that leads to multimillion euro fines for especially sleazy companies.

One such company is Foodinho, an Italian subsidiary of the Spanish food delivery company Glovo. Foodinho/Glovo has been in the crosshairs of Italian labor enforcers since before the pandemic, racking up millions in fines – first for failing to file the proper privacy paperwork disclosing the nature of the data processing in the app that Foodinho riders use to book jobs. Then, after the Italian data commission investigated Foodinho, the company attracted new, much larger fines for its out-of-control surveillance conduct.

As all of this was underway, Reversing Works was conducting its own research into Glovo/Foodinho's app, running it on a simulated Android handset inside a PC so they could peer into app's data collection and processing. They discovered a nightmarish world of pervasive, illegal worker surveillance, and published their findings a year ago in November, 2023:

https://www.etui.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/Exercising%20workers%20rights%20in%20algorithmic%20management%20systems_Lessons%20learned%20from%20the%20Glovo-Foodinho%20digital%20labour%20platform%20case_2023.pdf

That report reveals all kinds of extremely illegal behavior. Glovo/Foodinho makes its riders' data accessible across national borders, so Glovo managers outside of Italy can access fine-grained surveillance information and sensitive personal information – a major data protection no-no.

Worse, Glovo's app embeds trackers from a huge number of other tech platforms (for chat, analytics, and more), making it impossible for the company to account for all the ways that its riders' data is collected – again, a requirement under Italian and EU data protection law.

All this data collection continues even when riders have clocked out for the day – its as though your boss followed you home after quitting time and spied on you.

The research also revealed evidence of a secretive worker scoring system that ranked workers based on undisclosed criteria and reserved the best jobs for workers with high scores. This kind of thing is pervasive in algorithmic management, from gig work to Youtube and Tiktok, where performers' videos are routinely suppressed because they crossed some undisclosed line. When an app is your boss, your every paycheck is docked because you violated a policy you're not allowed to know about, because if you knew why your boss was giving you shitty jobs, or refusing to show the video you spent thousands of dollars making to the subscribers who asked to see it, then maybe you could figure out how to keep your boss from detecting your rulebreaking next time.

All this data-collection and processing is bad enough, but what makes it all a thousand times worse is Glovo's data retention policy – they're storing this data on their workers for four years after the worker leaves their employ. That means that mountains of sensitive, potentially ruinous data on gig workers is just lying around, waiting to be stolen by the next hacker that breaks into the company's servers.

Reversing Works's report made quite a splash. A year after its publication, the Italian data protection agency fined Glovo another 5 million euros and ordered them to cut this shit out:

https://reversing.works/posts/2024/11/press-release-reversing.works-investigation-exposes-glovos-data-privacy-violations-marking-a-milestone-for-worker-rights-and-technology-accountability/

As the report points out, Italy is extremely well set up to defend workers' rights from this kind of bossware abuse. Not only do Italian enforcers have all the privacy tools created by the GDPR, the EU's flagship privacy regulation – they also have the benefit of Italy's 1970 Workers' Statute. The Workers Statute is a visionary piece of legislation that protects workers from automated management practices. Combined with later privacy regulation, it gave Italy's data regulators sweeping powers to defend Italian workers, like Glovo's riders.

Italy is also a leader in recognizing gig workers as de facto employees, despite the tissue-thin pretense that adding an app to your employment means that you aren't entitled to any labor protections. In the case of Glovo, the fine-grained surveillance and reputation scoring were deemed proof that Glovo was employer to its riders.

Reversing Works' report is a fascinating read, especially the sections detailing how the researchers recruited a Glovo rider who allowed them to log in to Glovo's platform on their account.

As Reversing Works points out, this bottom-up approach – where apps are subjected to technical analysis – has real potential for labor organizations seeking to protect workers. Their report established multiple grounds on which a union could seek to hold an abusive employer to account.

But this bottom-up approach also holds out the potential for developing direct-action tools that let workers flex their power, by modifying apps, or coordinating their actions to wring concessions out of their bosses.

After all, the whole reason for the gig economy is to slash wage-bills, by transforming workers into contractors, and by eliminating managers in favor of algorithms. This leaves companies extremely vulnerable, because when workers come together to exercise power, their employer can't rely on middle managers to pressure workers, deal with irate customers, or step in to fill the gap themselves:

https://projects.itforchange.net/state-of-big-tech/changing-dynamics-of-labor-and-capital/

Only by seizing the means of computation, workers and organized labor can turn the tables on bossware – both by directly altering the conditions of their employment, and by producing the evidence and tools that regulators can use to force employers to make those alterations permanent.

Image: EFF (modified) https://www.eff.org/files/issues/eu-flag-11_1.png

CC BY 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/us/

[d1sapp01ntm3nt]

What does ggy mean

GGY is the name of a story in one of the fnaf books; Tales from the Pizzaplex #5: The Bobidots Conclusion to be exact.

the story is about a 12 year old boy named Tony Becker who needs to write a nonfiction story for his group project in writing class. He and his friends come up with little nicknames for each other during their project, Tony taking the name Tarbell (after Ida Tarbell, a famous reporter), Ellis taking the name Boots (short for Puss in Boots cause he’s a nerd) and Gregory (yes, that Gregory) taking the name Dr. Rabbit. they head to the Mega Pizzaplex to look for ideas and just hang out. Tony finds the initials GGY on a lot of the arcade games with high scores WAY above anyone else’s. He begins to get curious and decides to dig deeper, trying to figure out if this is just a really good player or a hacker messing with the machines. During his searches of breaking into Pizzaplex security and literally his own school after hours to get more info; he finds out that GGY is a lot more than what he thinks. Apparently GGY has a modified guest pass to the Pizzaplex that acts more like a security badge, allowing them into places normal guests wouldn’t be allowed into. We also get a couple of initials of some of his guests, who turn out to be the missing guidance counselors from Tony’s school that I forgot to mention.

Once Tony finishes his story he hands it to his slacker friends so they can edit and revise and get their credit in this little story. Dr. Rabbit (Gregory) doesn’t seem to have much of a positive opinion on it, returning the next day with the story edited beyond belief. One of the edited lines reads “GGY was the Wizard’s most favored apprentice.” This may sound like I’m going batshit insane but GGY/Dr. Rabbit/Gregory are implied to be the same person and also under Glitchtrap’s control (much like Vanessa with Vanny). Towards the end, Tony’s in the library sorting books for detention because he got caught sneaking into the school and using the library computer to do his research. Greg walks in to try and “make things better” by offering Tony to come with him to the Mega Pizzaplex. It’s implied that Greg is going to lure Tony to the Pizzaplex and kill him off because of his extensive knowledge of GGY’s hacks and implied crimes.

ALSO THIS STORY IS FUCKING CANON LETS GO!!! GREGORY HAS CANONICALLY KILLED PEOPLE!!!!! YAAAAYYYYYY!!!

sorry if this makes no sense I’m very insane about this book and this whole thing I just wrote is too big for me to read over rn because I’m so tired.

[lesbianreginageorgeisreal]

Ask away (I'm bored)

1: Name

2: Age

3: 3 Fears

4: 3 things I love

5: 4 turns on

6: 4 turns off

7: My best friend

8: Sexual orientation

9: My best first date

10: How tall am I

11: What do I miss

12: What time were I born

13: Favorite color

14: Do I have a crush

15: Favorite quote

16: Favorite place

17: Favorite food

18: Do I use sarcasm

19: What am I listening to right now

20: First thing I notice in new person

21: Shoe size

22: Eye color

23: Hair color

24: Favorite style of clothing

25: Ever done a prank call?

27: Meaning behind my URL

28: Favorite movie

29: Favorite song

30: Favorite band

31: How I feel right now

32: Someone I love

33: My current relationship status

34: My relationship with my parents

35: Favorite holiday

36: Tattoos and piercing i have

37: Tattoos and piercing i want

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

42: When did I last hold hands?

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days?

45: Where am I right now?

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

49: Am I excited for anything?

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

55: What is something I disliked about today?

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

57: What do I think about most?

58: What’s my strangest talent?

59: Do I have any strange phobias?

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

61: What was the last lie I told?

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

64: Do I believe in magic?

65: Do I believe in luck?

66: What's the weather like right now?

67: What was the last book I've read?

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

69: Do I have any nicknames?

70: What was the worst injury I've ever had?

71: Do I spend money or save it?

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me?

74: Favorite animal?

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

78: How can you win my heart?

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?

80: What is my favorite word?

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

86: What is my current desktop picture?

87: Had sex?

88: Bought condoms?

89: Gotten pregnant?

90: Failed a class?

91: Kissed a boy?

92: Kissed a girl?

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

94: Had job?

95: Left the house without my wallet?

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

97: Had sex in public?

98: Played on a sports team?

99: Smoked weed?

100: Did drugs?

101: Smoked cigarettes?

102: Drank alcohol?

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

104: Been overweight?

105: Been underweight?

106: Been to a wedding?

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

109: Been outside my home country?

110: Gotten my heart broken?

111: Been to a professional sports game?

112: Broken a bone?

113: Cut myself?

114: Been to prom?

115: Been in airplane?

116: Fly by helicopter?

117: What concerts have I been to?

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

119: Learned another language?

120: Wore make up?

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?

122: Had oral sex?

123: Dyed my hair?

124: Voted in a presidential election?

125: Rode in an ambulance?

126: Had a surgery?

127: Met someone famous?

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

129: Peed outside?

130: Been fishing?

131: Helped with charity?

132: Been rejected by a crush?

133: Broken a mirror?

134: What do I want for birthday?

[respocked]

I'm thinking about work anyway so fuck it

Star Trek Public Primary School AU 🛸 !

Kirk

-the headmaster!

-went into education because of his own unfortunate childhood

-has an uncanny ability to tell which student has a bad home life

-remembers everyone's name, even if you went to his school 5 years ago for 2 months

-misbehaving teenagers send to his office get some candy and a motivational speech that changes the course of their lifetime

-most days can be found hovering suspiciously outside of spock's classroom

-way better with older students, 12-13 - has absolutely 0 idea what to do with young children

-which is awkward when while waiting for spock outside his classroom he tries to make small talk with them (-so... son... read any good books lately? -i can't read!)

Spock

- teaches early education, 6 to 9 year olds

-greatly overqualified for the position, had a human psychology degree, interspecies child development degree, highly regarded in scientific community

-could be teaching university but prefers to spend his time sitting on carpets with children drawing clouds

-his class is extremely nontraditional - no desks, sitting on the floor, tons of meditation, classes in nature

-does not adhere to the program at all but somehow his classes always score the best on all exams

-turned down a position in a trendy montessori school for a public one

-parents either go out his way for their child to attend his class or request someone else - either from homophobic or xeniphobic reasons

Uhura

-the school's cultural assistant!

-also runs student exchanges with other countries and planets

-speaks every minority language that has representation in the student body

-also a substitute teacher

-she can give a super interesting lessons

-but takes 0 shit from students who won't respect her

-runs an extracurricular activity with spock when she teaches immigrant and refugee students to express their emotions with music

-is the best at pitching a project idea for funding, which is why her office and spock's classrom are the best equipped ones in the school

-spock's bestie, they hang out after work (gay/lesbian solidatity)

-still lives with her parents, they're super close

-wants to date but it's too boring compared to writing another lesson plan

Bones

-the school nurse! & in charge of nutrition

-teenagers are afraid of him

-small children absolutely love him

-takes his daughter to work and lets her draw with crayons on his important papers

-also constantly in spock's classroom, but to complain

-"damnit, spock! give them all the vulcan cuisine you want, but don't send them crying to me after they get an allergic reaction!"

-"meditation? maybe have them meditate on doing some real work for once"

-but when parents with pitchforks come to complain abt spock's methods he defends him like a lion

-he sends them piles after piles of scientific proof of why spock's method are actually the bestest and most efficient

-when kirk thanks him for stepping in he pretends like he doesn't know what he's talking about

Chapel

-teaches sex ed!

-the sweetest teacher ever

-one of those teachers that noone is intimidated by but noone disobeys because noone wants to makes her upset

-uses her Blonde White Straight Pretty Woman priviledge to convince reluctant parents to sign up their kids for sex ed

-goes All Out on halloween tho

-you know she is there, dressed like a witch, running an educational halloween themed activity! paper bats hanging from the ceiling!

-has gluten free and vegan candy in case the winners have a food sensivity!

-has a secret crush on Uhura and Spock both

Chekov

-teaches IT

-burned out miracle kid

-graduated university when he was younger than his current students

-lets students play roblox on the computers

-and teaches them how to torrent

-somehow noone from the faculty knows where he lives

-background check turns up nothing

-"did you know computers were invented in russia?"

-puts 0 effort in but somehow his students love him

-little girls take sneak photos of him to edit in a flower crowns

Scotty

-teaches a woodworking & engineering class and does janitor duties on the side!

-like kirk, absolutely 0 idea on how to treat younger kids

-strict

-has to be, no joking around power tools!

-but you know praise from him hits different

-will tell students he's proud of them when they make theit first little table

-can fix everything

-say "this interactive blackboard is broken!" three times to summon him

-marries to his career, teaching fulfills his paternal calling

Sulu

-teaches biology!

-rule follower

-stressed out about exams 3 years before his students

-not very inventive but everyone wants his class because there is a hamster in the classroom

-classroom full of houseplants

-if you agree to water them when he's away you will receive a 50 page manual on proper misting techniques

-not strict at all but will give a dressing down to a student who is seen treating a living thing badly

-can be bribed with plants

[littleadaline]

Hold Me [P.G8]

Warnings: academic overwhelm, reader isn’t coping well with the stress, Pedri being a (hopefully) helpful partner. Fluuuuuff ✨

A/N: wrote this during my midterms, basically how I felt going through the sleepless nights of studying, keep in mind I have ✨ADHD✨, so my retention can often be resumed to….shit 😽😽

A/N (again): I’m publishing this at 1:12 AM, clearly shouldn’t, but I’ve been too eager lmaoo. Um.. I haven’t written in a year or two, so bear with me. I’ll try to post on a somewhat regular basis, but being a Uni student, my schedule is a bit hectic. Love 😽

———————————————————————

Everything felt dull. The birds had stopped singing, the sky wasn’t as bright, the wind was colder. You huffed as you woke up, not ready to go through another day of this. Pedri had already left for training, leaving you alone in the flat. You sighed, turning over to grab your phone, chuckling as you saw the messages he had sent you while you were asleep.

[Mi amor:]

Thinking of you 😘 Good luck with studying today! I’ll grab us food on the way back xx

You answer his message before making your way to the bathroom, ready to get on with your day. As you take a quick glance in the mirror, you can’t help but notice your sulked face, your tired eyes from hours of staring at your computer, tirelessly trying to understand the concept of your class. You were currently studying for your finals, something that had been consuming your entire life, barely leaving space for extracurricular activities or just, breathing. Pedri had noticed the toll it had taken on you, on your couple, seeing your date nights pushed aside for a quick study attempt. You couldn’t lie, some days you had regretted pursuing a higher education degree. A notification from your phone pulled you away from your thoughts.

[Mi amor:]

Training is done, but I’m gonna go out with the boys for a bit. I should be back in 3 hours. Are you in the mood for a poke bowl, cariño?

You let him know before heading to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. As you bit through your toast, you glanced around the room. Your books and textbooks were splattered across the dining table, your pencils scattered around the room, either having fell down the table or thrown in a fit of rage. You sighed, putting down your coffee mug on the table. You knew you had to clean up your mess, not wanting Pedri to see the flat in this state. But something was preventing you from picking up your books, your scattered pencils, and the hundreds-if not thousands of Post It’s on the floor. In an attempt to pump yourself up, you sat down on the dinner table, a twinkle of hope in your eyes. You opened up your computer, your eyes glancing at the revision document. Word after word, after word, after word. Your brain barely read out the sentences, before you felt a ball in your throat, a feeling of helplessness overcoming you. Overwhelmed, you sat down on the cold floor of the flat, defeated. Why? “Why can’t I pick up after myself? Why am I so shut down?”, you muttered to yourself. You were nervously playing with the hem of your sweater, clenching and unclenching your fists, your breathing rapidly increasing. You found yourself overwhelmed; by the repetitive clinging of the washing machine you had previously started, the neighbours’ crying baby, the children playing in the park below the apartment. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too much. Exhausted, you let the tears out, longing for some sort of relief, more emotional than physical. You rolled yourself into a ball, sobs hidden by the noise of your neighbourhood.

Outside this flat, no one knew about the mental exhaustion you had pushed yourself to. The restless nights, staring at the ceiling while Pedri snored peacefully next to you; the times you silently cried in the shower as your soul broke from the pressure. There was no denying it, the academic pressure had broken your soul, left it torn into shreds, your confidence down the drain. Between the sobs, you didn’t hear the front door open. You quickly wiped down the tears before scurrying to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Cariño, I’m home!”, a soft knock came from the door. You sniffled, rather loudly. “Is everything alright?”, his voice grew concerned.

You looked in the mirror, your eyes widening in horror as you saw how red they were. “Shit, shit shit,” you said dabbing some cold water around your eyes. Pedri knocked a second time, harder. “Open the door please, I’m concerned about you.”

Left without a choice, you reluctantly opened the door. Pedri was standing there, his figure towering over you, his eyebrows were knitted in worry, his lips slightly agape. His hair was slightly stuck to his forehead, most probably due to the sweat from training.

“Nena, what’s going on? Did something happen?”, he said as he took your hand and led you out of the bathroom. “C’mere.”

Settling down on the couch, your body over his, you closed your eyes; for fear of breaking down in front of him. You felt one hand settle on your back, while the other settled on top of your head. In an attempt to soothe you, he began stroking your back. You felt your body relax to his touch, your worries melting away into nothingness. Pedri was your anchor, in all the aspects possible. Whenever you were sick, or tired, overwhelmed or angry, you knew you could find solace in his arms. You don’t remember what exactly happened after sitting on the couch, but you woke up to a different scenery. The sun had set down, leaving Barcelona enveloped by a cold darkness. The apartment had been tidied up, windows closed, blinds drawn, your books neatly packed on the bookshelf, your Post It’s picked up from the floor, your pencils back into their container. All the lights were turned off, the only source of luminosity being the candle Pedri had lit up in the kitchen; almond vanilla, your favorite. Confused, you sat up.

“Pepi?”, you said, rubbing the sleep off from your eyes.

Footsteps made you turn around, a freshly showered Pedri looking at you. You saw him disappear into the bathroom before coming back out again, fully dressed and dried up. Before you were able to say anything, he sat down on the spot next to yours. His hand found yours as he fiddled with your fingers.

“Nena…I think I know what’s going on with you.”, he started.

You held your breath, afraid to hear the truth coming out of his mouth, a truth you had tried so hard to suppress and deny.

“You’ve overworked yourself, haven’t you?”, he said, lovingly stroking your hair. “You’d think all this tossing and turning at night would go unnoticed?”, he chuckled. “I have taken into account how you started biting your nails again, how little time you have to rest. Your water bottle is always sitting empty, unless I refill it for you. The snack basket’s content hasn’t moved either, unless I break your study trance and feed you. You are sitting in front of your computer every waking second you get. I’m worried about you, and your mental health.”, he said in one breath. Pedri was right. Your day was filled with dread, to have to spend hour after hour trying to memorize concepts for your degree, your mind feeling like a hole-filled sponge, never able to retain anything. Exhausted, you let the dam break. Your shoulders shaking with sobs, soaking Pedri’s shirt as well. Pedri tightened his hold on you, bringing you closer to his chest.

“You won’t go through this alone. With the upcoming international break and my injury, I will be home for the next week and a half. I have also booked you an appointment with a therapist, so you can establish coping mechanisms together… also to talk it out. And after all of this is over, I booked us a flight to your hometown.”

You looked at him in confusion.

“I think being away from your family isn’t helping you much either,” he let out. “You’ve been in Barcelona barely a year, and I believe a part of your soul is still in your hometown. I believe the beach and your grandmothers’ cooking is exactly what you need in order to come back stronger.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

You didn’t know what to say, nor how to thank him. Unable to say anything, you just let yourself crawl onto him, your head peacefully resting on his shoulder. His body wash -a mixture of sweet and spice- filled up your nostrils, as you hummed in peace. You would always be grateful for the day Pedri appeared in your life. The relationship you had built was one out of fairytales, a story of love and resilience, considering you had survived doing long distance in the early stages. You balanced out each other in more ways you could think of.

“I love you”, was the only thing you mustered up to say.

“Te quiero también, nena.” He said, leaving a kiss on your forehead.