#but at least I’m definitely getting a better grade in therapy

[philsmeatylegss]

fascinated by you saying you have a license but shouldn't. i would love to hear that story

Oh I love this story.

So I waited until my seventeenth birthday to take my driving test (in America you can take it at 16, I was just lazy). But my seventeenth birthday fell in May 2020. Idk in other places, but in my state, the DMV shut down for months and cancelled all driving tests from march 2020 to like September 2020. So the problem was that when the DMV reopened, they had to keep up with the tests that were already scheduled to happen on top of making sure everyone whose tests were cancelled also were able to take a test (it was promised that if your test was cancelled you would reschedule for free). So that’s keeping up with one day’s worth of tests as well as one day from the month before and before and before if you get what I’m saying.

So the genius idea at least my state came up with was quiet literally shortening the test to nothing. I remember every single aspect of the test. I am not leaving out a single second when I say this is what I did:

Put your seatbelt on

Drive forward

Stop at a stop sign

Drive forward

Have the test Procter guide me into parallel parking

Have the test Procter guide me into pulling out of parallel parking

Drive straight

Turn the car

Drive straight

Stop car

Pass the test

That was dead ass it

And I mean it in the nicest way when I tell you my brother (who I have mentioned quite a lot is autistic) had a friend who, for lack of a better way to describe him, took an actual IQ test and scored a 74. He failed his test three times prior to when he also scheduled his fourth test for May 2020.

He also passed and as far as I know still has a license

I drove sporadically from when I got my license in September 2020 until June 2021 where I was pulling out of a parking space in my school parking lot and up until this point I had been parking in a lot with three other cars because it was 2021 and our school set it up so only half the grade had the choice of coming in on certain days, so I was used to having my space. But then it was June 2021 and the entire graduating class including me had to meet and it was all jammed and when I pull out of the parking lot after the meeting I definitely can feel and hear impact made with the car next to me. There was definitely a bit of friction, but I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad. So I just drove away.

The next day I’m awoken to the news of a big ass dent in my poor father’s car and our town’s police force coming after me for a hit and run. 

It wasn’t that serious it was all on camera and obviously just an accident that I didn’t know any better and paperwork was all filled out and everything was fine but now it’s been over three years and I haven’t driven since

Point is the reason I hit that car was because I did not know how to drive a car with other cars within like a five foot radius. No clue how to parallel park. Idk how to get on highways. I went once, didn’t know how to look behind me, a car beeped, I pulled into a nearby Panera, and I called my mom crying who was on vacation in florida and my brother and dad had to drive in one car so one of them could drop me off at therapy and the other could drive the car I took home.

So basically I should not have a license and it’s likely anyone who got their license in 2020 after march 2020 shouldn’t have it either

[floradesu]

My BL Rating Scale

So, I rate my manga based on a letter grade scale, F and DNF being the absolute worst, and S being the best of the best. I also use pluses and minuses occasionally, so it’s not uncommon for something to be a C+ or some other variation. I didn’t start my form until I was like 200 titles deep, so I’ve been playing catchup for a while, rereading them and rating as I go.

I have no strict rubric, although I do think I approach each manga with a C baseline and then consider some key things that will increase or decrease a given title’s rating. These things include:

1. Publishing Quality - This includes the translation, typesetting/lettering, editing, and overall scan quality (since basically all of these are ebooks). I don’t have specific ratings for these on my form yet, but I think I will if I ever revise it. I think this is pretty self explanatory, so I won’t elaborate much.

2. Spice Level - I am a grown ass adult and, to be honest, I love to see these boys get down. I give spice ratings from 1 (Mild/PG) to 5 (Whoa!/XXX), a 1 being for suggestive manga or only including kissing (think Sasaki and Miyano), and a 5 being for explicit uncensored/censored smut (think Black or White). Achieving a proper balance is important though, so given an individual manga’s needs, it can add or detract. Am I reading a slow burn oneshot where our boys don’t get together til the end? Then I better see them AT LEAST kiss, or I’m gonna consider this an affront to ME, a homosexual, who wanted to see boys kiss in my gay manga. Am I reading a smutty oneshot, whose plot is held together by wishes and wet dreams? Then the couple had BOTH better show some enjoyment in their activity, regardless of how dubious the setup is. And speaking of dubious setups…

3. Consent Level - I rate consent from a 1 (Consent is just a suggestion.) to a 5 (Hooray! Consent abounds!), 1 being for manga with explicit depictions of ass*ult or r*pe (think Finder) and 5 being for manga where partners are fully conscious and enthusiastic every time (think Therapy Game: Restart). BL and yaoi are notorious for dubcon and noncon setups. While I know this can be some folks’ kink, it is for sure a problem for me; however, I am happy to report that of the 133 manga I have input in my form so far, 72.2% are a 4 or 5, which is pretty dang good imho. I will say, consent ratings are on a somewhat sliding scale, depending on the ratio of consensual to nonconsensual encounters, as well as the severity of noncon encounters, and how they play with the other elements of stories I consider. It’s definitely a fraught rating area, and the one that I lose the most sleep over when I’m making decisions about a given manga’s grade.

4. Love Level - This area is straightforward: how in love are the main pair? Does their relationship make sense to me? Do I understand how they could develop an attraction and why they want to be together? Do I think their love is lasting? If so, they get a 5 (Eternal devotion ♡). If not, they get a 1 (Why are they together?). This rating carries a surprising amount of weight in relation to a manga’s overall grade, meaning I can forgive a lot of shady shit if I believe in these boys’ love lol.

5. Art Level - Out of all of these, this is probably the most subjective element of my rating system. I rate mangas’ art from 1 (Ugly) to 5 (Beautiful), and it is based solely on my personal taste. Also, I’m a bit of a demi hoe (lol), so if I grow to love a story, I will sometimes grow to love the art too, regardless. Nonetheless, beautiful art will raise the rating of manga that have problematic story elements (I’m looking at you again, Finder) and it’ll keep me hooked on a ridiculous/cringy story (I’m looking at you, Dick Fight Island, I’m looking at you).

6. Gay Acceptance - You would think this would be straightforward in a genre about boys bein’ in love, but sadly, it is not. Is one of the partners always referred to as “straight”? Does the story engage in LGBTQ+ issues in an affirming way, or a torturous or regressive way? Do characters fully acknowledge their queerness? Is queerness celebrated? These are some of the questions I consider when I look at BL through this lens. I know that BL is, largely, a genre written by cis straight women for cis straight women. However, it is ultimately about queer people. Whether or not that is acknowledged at all, or how that is or is not acknowledged, impacts the way I feel about the BL I read.

7. Plot and Story Elements - I don’t give specific ratings for plot or story in my form, but I might include a section for that upon revision. While this includes consideration for things like potential triggers and specific events, savory or not, this can also be boiled down to whether or not I think the story is told well. How is the pacing? Is the mangaka trying to communicate something larger? Do they succeed when they try to do so? Is it just a fluffy li’l story; sweet, like candy? Both the heavy and light stuff has its place, but at the end of the day, it all comes to…

8. Readability and Enjoyment - It’s a simple question: was this manga a fun read? Will I enjoy reading it again? All of the previously listed things impact this last and most important consideration. You can have some crazy shit go down in these manga, things that could make them totally unreadable and unenjoyable. Triggering, awful stuff. BUT. If a mangaka puts in the work to balance the good and the bad, depending on how well the traumatic is weighed against comfort and intimacy, a manga rating can overcome seemingly insurmountable odds and be given quite a good grade (like my beloved, Haru wo Daiteita). Likewise, a manga can be totally normal—nothing to complain about at surface level—but if I don’t enjoy it, for whatever reason, it will get a lower rating. Sometimes this will be because I’m annoyed by the protagonist, other times one of my personal triggers may have been hit; and still other times, an affront will have been committed against ME, a HOMOSEXUAL, and these DAMN BOYS DON’T KISS!

Anyhoo, every single one of these elements is totally subjective and personal, as are all of my ratings (^ ^) everyone has different standards, and I just wanted to shed a little light on the thought processes going into mine. I hope you enjoy! <3

[blood-loving-leech]

uh, big tw for a rant abt my sui attempt and like complete detail so definitely don’t read it unless you’re in a good state of mind please ily all maybe don’t read it at all actually idk i just needed to get it out and pretend someone actually cares

also it’s very long

today last year i went back to school after a fantasy dream trip to California with my dad for sailing

i sat down in my math class and i realized i hated my school, i was failing at everything i used to be good at, i had lost all my friends, my ex had ghosted me for a week and a half, my teachers thought i was weird for bringing a teddy bear to school in 10th grade, and my parents were always dissapointed,

i was worth nothing to nobody, and i had pills in my backpack

so i sat through my math class, and my chemistry class, and then i went and sat in my hallway for lunch, alone

i sat there with my pills in one hand and my bear in my lap and i stared at them, and i stared at them, and i held my bear, but before i could let myself chicken out i swallowed em without even taking a sip of water and then my hand was empty

and i panicked for a minute

i thought about going to the bathroom and purging

but then i calmed down, i just sat there with my bear for lunch, and felt numb, id have cried maybe if i could, but i couldn’t

tbh i didn’t think there were enough pills to kill me actually i just was kinda hoping they would anyway but two periods later i could feel it

it was really cold, like ice, like slowing down, and i started thinking about my childhood, i wrote a story for my english class that day, 5th period, about a person drowning in an icy lake, remembering all the warm days they’d lived, and my tablemates loved it, they were asking question about like, what it was about, and i just told them i didn’t know

i spent 6th period trying not to pass out and failing, it was so cold even with all my sweaters, from the pills and all the weight i’d been losing, my hair was greasy and my clothes were dirty and i was slumped over in my seat in the very back of spanish thinking “maybe ill actually really die after all”

i went to drama club after school and sat in the crappy auditorium chairs and wrote two letters, one to my parents telling them i didn’t expect the pills to kill me and one to my ex, one i never sent, it’s still sitting in my room sealed in an envelope with two of his favorite teas, im too scared to read my desperation but i can’t throw it out either

i went home and i set everything up on my desk in case i really did die and i finished the day and went to bed not really expecting or at least kind of hoping i wouldn’t wake up, i didn’t even say goodbye to my ex, or anyone else, there wasn’t anyone else to say goodbye to anyway

but i woke up the next morning and on the walk to my bus stop i was furious, i was miserable, and i was numb, i watched the pine needles pass under my feet and i could only think about how fucking stupid it was that i was still alive, and i learned nothing from the previous days fear because i told myself that after school, after therapy, i was going to take the rest of my bottle that was in my room

and yeah

idk

i’ll make another post about the hospital cuz fuck

but like

that was a whole year ago now

i remember all of it

and now it’s this year

and i’m still alive but like

nothing has really changed and honestly? what the fuck

why does nothing change

why does nothing get better

why didn’t i get help? was i not sick enough? why have i had to try and fail over and over again to pull myself out of that hole with only a therapist who got fired and a therapist who quit and a doctor who said im too fat for an eating disorder?

i mean what’s the fucking point

[annnaanya]

through goes 2024.

If there’s one thing I learned this year, it is to hold on to the little things. The little hopes, the little dreams and the little gestures that make you realize that you are in fact happy that you’re still here. I always say that if it makes you want to stay, then it is no small feat. The thin string of hope that you feel like is about to snap anytime can withstand just about anything if it is joined with other thin strings of hope.

Battling yourself is never easy. I questioned myself multiple times if I was good enough, if I deserved the good and the bad things. I was angry and belittled myself more than many times, it’s ridiculous—because on every occasion that I did, I managed to come out of it alive. The pain of failures sometimes gets the best of us, and that is completely valid. Sabi nga nila, “At least tapos na.” It’s going to feel weird at first but the world is what it is. All will be well. It’s cliche, I know but it gets better—the tear stains on my therapy journal is a testament to that.

It’s the first time I’m going to do  this, but in the last hour of this year I am going to try and write about all the little things and the big feats that I have gone through this year.

First, we managed to make it out alive out of our thesis 1 and our pre-oral defense. The hell that our group and I, especially as the neurotic person that I am, is truly a wonder that I will never stop talking about. In this moment of my life, I realized that while working hard, it may seem like an unless cycle of failures, but it all pays off in the end. If I had not stayed until 2AM e-mailing possible authors overseas if they can help us in our thesis project, we wouldn’t have made the deadline. If we all did not spend day in and day out trying our very best to perfect our presentation for our defense then we wouldn't have defended it successfully. The universe was on our side that day. The author of our research instrument responded to my email just when we were told the night before that we would not be allowed to defend our unfinished paper the following week. Someone’s lucky stars aligned for us that day and I will never stop yapping about the timing of it all. Eunice, Elaisha, Hazel and Monica, my girliepops na laging cause ng pagtaas ng altapresyon ko, we all did great.

Second, hearing our respondents experiences about being spinsters for our qualitative research. I had strong opinions about how I wanted my life to be before hearing about how their lives turned out. They all live respectable lives, but honestly, I did not think it would be that hard. I was given a perspective that I never had before and I will forever cherish my groupmates, Eunice, Hazel and Monica for going through HOURS of transcribing and coding with me just to see this research through. In my eyes, though someone else’s grades would be always be higher, we did the best (kasi hindi ko naman sila nakitang mahirapan at hindi ko naman sila kagrupo)

Third, going to therapy. No small feat, indeed. The mental health journey was a trainwreck and I definitely went through a lot more than was necessary by being too afraid to ask for help. I was on medications last year and to be quite honest, while it worked wonders to other people, it was not much help for me. I did not feel like myself and it took me an entire year to come into terms that maybe the meds are not working and that I should approach it differently. I got formally diagnosed with clinical depression this year and went to therapy, which worked for me (I gained back my confidence when all those goddamn medication-caused acne went away). I have never felt better than ever and have never felt more urge to go about things the healthy way than before. I am glad I asked for help. I hope that whoever is reading this, if you think you need it, may you never find fear in reaching out and getting the help that you think you need. 

Fourth, OJT. From learning how to take the bus from home to Manila and Manila to home on my own during my pre-requirements era to taking the LRT to my ninang’s home to the office and back—the office experience may not be for me, but on a deeper level, I would say that a part of me was healed when I was stuck in traffic or in standing inside of a cramped train. The Manila dream that was once crushed had its short lived moment during that era. And though most of the experiences that I could share would come off as a whine, I don’t regret anything. I loved the Manila pollution.

Fifth, writing. From getting a small bit of recognition for my writing to getting paid for the first time for writing—the author dreams… that I am so fucking glad I did not let go after all of my setbacks, has finally done its course. I intend to achieve more. 

Sixth, getting my student driver’s permit and learning how to drive. After pestering my dad for YEARS AND YEARS to teach me how to drive, at the big age of 21, I was finally able to sit on that driver’s seat and drive my own car for the first time. Still a terrible driver (ANTAYIN NYO TALAGA AKO MAGDDRIVE NG SASAKYAN NA MAY DALA NG KABAONG NYO NG 90 ANG TAKBO)

Seventh, passing the CHRA Examination. Fuck. I don’t even know how I did it. After weeks of procrastination and cramming everything in the last 2 weeks, I can’t believe I made it! Anya (not my real name, lol), CHRA is a real thing guys. WTF.

Eighth, finding interest in F1. Having something to look forward to every weekend really does wonders to get me through every passing hour of the weekdays. Who cares if I have to stay up until midnight to watch the goddamn race? Who cares if people think I only watch it for the ABSOLUTELY INSANELY ATTRACTIVE Drivers? I am enjoying myself and loving the thrill of watching rich men drive in funny circles. No one can take that away from me.

Ninth, surviving. There’s a bunch of people that I want to credit for helping me survive this year. Khenj, our other highschool friends, my college (former) roommates: Pangkeng, Marian, Ems, and Shiela, my thesismates (Eunice, Hazelz, Monicakes, Elaishagirl), my co-intern (Trisha), JC, Tristan, Sandy and Xyki. On multiple accounts, I called some of them up on a random Tuesday, asking for chika, but really it was my way of asking for help because I was getting too over my head again and I don’t know if I can survive it. But with the help of these people (not everyone is mentioned, sorry, I will edit this and add more people if I must) I made it out alive. 

And just like that, through goes 2024. This season is over. I’ll see you again, next year. Hopefully with R.Pm after my last name and when I can finally call myself a psychology graduate.

Thank you for hanging around.

[otstudentwithalife]

Community, Occupational Therapy and the Art of Teaching people to fish ( or at least trying)

Being an Occupational Therapist (OT) in a community is like being handed a rusty car with no engine and being told to make it work. I know how dramatic this may sound, forgive me but after our tutorial last Wednesday, I realized how vast the challenges can be in making a meaningful impact in different communities—and honestly, sometimes it feels like we’re pushing that engine-less car uphill with the handbrake on.

At Cato Manor the people there are lovely, warm, and welcoming, but if you've ever tried to introduce a project and then watched it fizzle out as soon as you step away, you know the frustration I’m talking about. It's not that they don’t want the help or the resources—oh, they definitely want something from you—but the spark to keep things running on their own seems to flicker out as soon as we’re gone. Meanwhile, in other communities, like Mariannridge, things are thriving! Projects seem to run on autopilot, and the community is fully invested. What gives? How did they get halfway and we are still at the bottom of the hill ? Having an engine that’s the answer!

Visualize this : every week we go to Thandeka’s Daycare and previous block have given them child development manuals, stimulation boards, caregiver training, you name it. Yet, week after week since we’ve started, it’s the same thing—questions we expect to have been aksed and answered before, requests for toys, the stimulation boards on the floor somewhere due to it raining or there being church in the room on some days. So, what’s happening? Where’s the initiative? Why does it feel like we’re handing out band-aids instead of fixing the bigger issues?

Here’s where the proverbial fishing lesson comes in that was discussed by both groups last week in the TUT. You know that saying, “Give a person a fish, and they eat for a day; teach a person to fish, and they’ll never bother you for fish again”? Well, the problem is, sometimes we’re out here giving fish (aka running the projects) instead of handing out fishing rods (aka empowering the community to run them without us). And it’s not just me coming to this conclusion because I’m being delulu. Research supports this too! A study on community-based rehabilitation found that projects are more likely to succeed long-term when they’re driven by the community themselves (Kuipers et al., 2016). Makes sense, right? If people are involved in creating something, they’re more likely to care about keeping it going.

Now, let’s talk about schools. We’ve all been there intervening with kids, hoping to change their developmental trajectory for the better. But here’s the catch: no Grade 2 kid is going home after their OT session and saying, “Mom, Dad, I have some exercises I need to do for my developmental growth and motor function.” Nope. Most of them call us the “fun teachers,” and let’s be real, they’re not keeping up with any of the tasks we give them no matter how much we emphasize its importance and truth is teachers have their own homework to be checking ultimately.So, why aren’t these interventions sticking? It’s simple. The parents often have no idea what we’re doing with their kids. Because we don’t meet them. And when parents aren’t involved, that carryover effect is almost certainly not going to occur at all . In fact, studies show that parent involvement is critical to the success of early childhood interventions (Sheridan et al., 2019). And it’s not just about following up after appointments. I mean, how many follow-ups can we really do? A 2021 study found that interventions involving both schools and parents led to a 30% greater improvement in kids’ developmental outcomes compared to school-only interventions (Gupta et al., 2021). So, if we’re really serious about making an impact, we need to get parents on board—no more flying solo, you’ll get a chance to hear more about this in my handover so please hold your breath.

The Engine-Less Car (Or Why Community Involvement is Key)

Here’s the thing: not all communities are the same. Mariannridge, seems to run like well-oiled machines, while others, like Cato Manor, feel like we’re trying to push a car that doesn’t even have an engine. And what’s that engine, It’s community pride and involvement. Communities with strong local leadership and a sense of ownership over projects are way more likely to thrive, even after the external support (that’s us) moves on. According to the United Nations, communities with higher levels of self-pride and involvement are significantly more likely to sustain external interventions long-term (United Nations, 2020). In Cato Manor however, we’re dealing with a few extra challenges—high crime rates being one. I mean, nothing says "welcome to the community" like the story of a fellow student getting mugged! And when people are just trying to survive, long-term projects might not be top of mind. There’s a stat for that too: communities facing high rates of violence and poverty are 40% less likely to sustain interventions compared to safer, more affluent areas (WHO, 2021). No wonder things are tough. But here’s where it really starts becoming muddy waters. Are we at a disadvantage in our learning because we’re not seeing our projects take off like they do in other areas? Or is this actually an advantage? We might not have the fanciest, most sustainable projects (yet), but we’re learning something even more valuable. We are learning what it takes to build those projects from scratch. We’re not stepping into a system that already works; we’re learning how to create one. And that’s a skill that’s worth its weight in gold. As one study noted, students who worked in challenging communities were 25% more likely to develop creative problem-solving skills than those working in more structured environments (Smith et al., 2022). 

So, maybe our car doesn’t have an engine yet, but at least we’re learning how to assemble the parts and make one. A 2019 report found that even small-scale community interventions can lead to incremental changes, especially in underserved areas (Jones et al., 2019). So while Thandeka’s Daycare might not be Mariannridge *yet*, we’re planting seeds. And sometimes, those seeds take longer to grow. Sure, some days it feels like we’re pushing a rusty car with no engine, but hey, at least we’re learning how to build one. And who knows? Maybe one day, that car will be cruising down the highway on its own.

References:

Gupta, P., Kumar, D., & Sharma, A. (2021). Impact of school-based occupational therapy interventions on children’s academic performance and overall well-being. *Indian Journal of Pediatrics*, 88(4), 355-359.

Jones, M., Harris, L., & Clark, S. (2019). Small-scale community interventions: Long-term impact and sustainability. *Journal of Community Health*, 44(3), 450-461.

Kuipers, P., Kendall, M., & Hancock, T. (2016). Community-based rehabilitation: inclusive development and health. *Disability and Rehabilitation*, 38(1), 33-41.

Sheridan, S. M., Knoche, L. L., & Clarke, B. L. (2019). Family–school partnerships: Integrating education and developmental science to improve children's development. *Developmental Psychology*, 55(5), 1105-1113.

Smith, J., Rogers, T., & Elmer, G. (2022). Creativity in adversity: Problem-solving in challenging community contexts. *Journal of Occupational Therapy Education*, 2(1), 24-38.

United Nations. (2020). *Sustainable Development Goals Report 2020*. United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs.

World Health Organization. (2021). *Community-based rehabilitation: CBR guidelines*. WHO Press.

[mental-health-advice]

Hi I hope you're well. Idk who else to talk to and I haven't actually gone to a therapist yet but I know I have some sort of social anxiety because it affects my daily life. I barely participate in discussions during my classes and when I do, I overthink what I'm going to say and end up going off topic, not like how I rehearsed it in my head. I start to hate myself after I talk in class because I hate the way I speak (I'm really really bad at thinking on the spot and mumble a lot so it makes me self conscious). Sometimes the prof tells me she can't hear me and it makes me even more anxious and I feel guilty because I'm not contributing to the class well, while my classmates can contribute freely, without any worries, and are able to articulate their ideas perfectly. I feel like it'll just be a downward spiral from here because I'm only continuing my studies because my parents have high expectations for me. They think I'm capable of getting a great job because of my education and my organization skills but I get anxious just thinking about it because I know for a fact that I'd never do well in a job interview no matter how much I practice (even if I practice it still wouldn't go how I planned). They think I'm their only hope because my two elder brothers didn't finish their studies, and one also has some mental health issues (he speak to a therapist on the phone for help). I on the other hand, I know I need to go to therapy but I don't think my parents think anything is wrong with me. Plus, I feel like I'd just be a burden on them because they're already struggling as it is (we're not really that well off) and I've seen how my family treats my brother as a burden as well for having mental health issues) so I don't think I'll ever get the help I want. I also feel like a burden on my close friends because some of them also have some mental health issues and so bringing up my own struggles will make it seem as though I'm disregarding theirs. It's just too much and it's gotten to the point where I have trouble sleeping because my brain doesn't stay quiet and I have too many thoughts running through my head :(

Hey there,

I too had struggles when I was at uni with actively participating in class discussions and sharing my own thoughts and ideas on topics that were brought up, so you are definitely not alone in that aspect.

I think when it comes to speaking up and contributing to class discussions, it’s more of a confidence thing and so the more you do it, the better and more comfortable you will feel in doing it. You did mention though that you try to talk in class but that you are never satisfied or happy in the way you talk/ feeling as though you don’t get your point across well enough despite practicing and rehearsing it in your head first. Firstly, I think it’s great that you are at least giving it a go and trying, you would be surprised at how many people will just sit back in the background and stay quiet.

I am wondering if before talking in class you can first write down points that you want to talk about and next to each point writing a bit about each. Doing this may help you to stay on point and remind yourself what you are trying to discuss and get out talking wise in your classes. Just an idea! Something else you could try is speaking to your professor and letting them know that you struggling with talking in class and that it makes you feel really self-conscious when they say they cannot hear you. You never know but they may also have some pointers on how you can talk more in classes! I’m sure that they have had past students who have struggled with the same or similar things as you when it comes to speaking in class.

I also want to quickly mentioned that it’s not really fair on your parents to put all this pressure on you for being the only one out of your siblings to get into uni and continue in your studies. I too can relate to this as my eldest sister wanted to be a paramedic but didn’t get the grades to go to uni to further in her studies and my brother chose a trade and so again didn’t go to uni but then somehow, shy me got accepted? Yes it’s super cool that you got in and get to study in your chosen fields but at the same time it has to be because you want to do this, not others wanting this for you but because you want it for yourself. And whilst it’s true that you may get a better job from going to uni, you can still get a decent job of your choice without a degree. My sister is a great example of this as she never made it to uni but now has a great job at an emergency services call centre where she is able to directly help others still (just not in the field). And me, well I had to drop out of uni due to my mental health impacting on my studies but I again am doing what I love even though it’s mostly volunteer based stuff. So for example I love both working with animals and helping others and offering them support where I can. I now volunteer for an animal rescue group with getting funding and am also a foster carer for cats/ kittens and to help me fulfill my desires to help others, I volunteer when I can here at MHA. I guess what I am trying to say is that getting a degree isn’t everything. You need to be happy and really want this, even if what you really want isn’t following your parent’s dreams for you.

And in regards to feeling as though you won’t be any good at job interviews, just try to focus on the here and now right now. We never know what the future may have in store for us so there is no point in worrying or stressing about all the what ifs when they haven’t even happened as yet!

I know it can be really hard in confiding in friends about your own struggles when you know they have their own stuff going on as well. It’s more than OK to let friends into your world though and they may even be able to offer you some advice and support themselves. You will not be disregarding their own mental health stuff, actually, one thing that I have found helpful in my own mental health recovery is that sometimes it can really help to help others or even just to listen to them when times are tough or just for things in general. It can help give the other person a break from their own struggles and head and that can be really helpful at times for both you and them! And if you are worried about saying too much to your friends about your own situation, then just let them know to tell you if it’s getting to be too much. It’s OK for them to say stop, just like it’s OK for you to tell them to stop if them talking to you is becoming too overwhelming.

It can be really tough when we know we need that extra help and support but feel as though by speaking up we will be a burden to others. And whilst I do not know your family’s personal situation there are ways that you can receive the help and support and at a low cost or for free. For example, you can always speak to a counsellor from either a helpline or on web counselling which is free, or you can check out your local community mental health services and see if they can help you and support you in any way or even just referring you on to someone else. There is hope out there and yes, your parents may not be accepting that you need help and support too, but even the most successful people need help and support sometimes!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

[namelesssweat]

update: they weren’t even just Facebook posts, they were Instagram posts that got cross-posted to Twitter and Facebook

(had him muted on all of them but my curiosity got the best of me)

will someone tell this man that

a) the pictures he takes of himself are uh, not good and

b) no amount of selfies and toxic positivity about cats (that I named!) and vegan babka will fix his attachment issues

ah and just like that it’s been a month since i last saw the crumpled man, he who shall not be named, that pathetic motherfucker, my sworn nemesis, whatever the hell we are calling him

I’m feeding myself better than I have in years and I dyed my hair and I got a kick-ass tattoo and in theory I am thriving

he uhhh *checks notes* has started posting truly horrifying and mega cringe selfies on Facebook

seems like i’m winning the split but i don’t feel like i’m winning??? somebody pls advise

[bella-studyblr]

Task Management:

Creating + Maintaining a Schoolwork Schedule

Key elements

Your schedule suits your individual time/task management preferences.

It is flexible enough to accommodate sudden changes, plus fluctuating energy levels, states of concentration, symptoms and moods.

Daily tasks are not over-whelming; they are small enough that they are achievable.

You do not get “burned out.”

It allows you to be consistent.

Steps to create your schedule

Decide if you want your planner to be paper or digital

Find an “order” that’s logical and achievable for you (more on this later)

Refer to your addendum/syllabus and write down all the assignments, tests and other events taking place that week/month (and their due-dates).

Then break these down, assigning tasks to each day of the week (more on this later).

Break down your tasks even further (more on this later).

Decide if you want to follow a simple daily to-do list or a timed schedule (more on this later).

Find your “order(s)”

Mandatory: Schedule assignments around other commitments (work, social, hobbies, etc.).

Do the hardest task first to get it out of the way (so that the rest of your tasks are less daunting, and because your smaller tasks require less energy therefore can be done even after completing the hard task).

Do the easiest task first to build momentum (give yourself a feeling of accomplishment which will motivate you to continue, and boost your self-confidence early in the day to establish a positive mindset for the rest of the day).

Do the task that’s due first to minimize deadline stress, and so your assignments don’t fall through the cracks (causing you to get discouraged and lose momentum).

Plan according to your energy level throughout the day and week: Do you have Pilates once a week? Maybe you can reserve that day for easier assignments. If you know you’re going to be tired for whatever reason, account for that in your planning.

Consider your state of concentration: If you know you’re too groggy or spaced out for the first hour of your day, you can either schedule easy tasks in that time, or none at all. If you take a medication in the afternoon/evening that makes you tired, schedule easier tasks or none, and get harder tasks done earlier/later in the day. If you have ADHD and crowded places mess with your concentration, but you like studying at a café, go when it’s not busy.

Be mindful of your emotions and symptoms: If you have depression, or are prone to depressive episodes, you’ll need to consider that when scheduling. You might have to rework your entire schedule when you get into a depressive episode (like adding lots of breaks). If suddenly you’re going through a big life event (like a breakup), you need to account for that when scheduling. For instance, if you can’t stand to be alone, maybe you can go out instead of staying in, and if your motivation is low, you may need to up your reward-system or break down your tasks even more.

Break down this week/month’s tasks

Refer to your addendum/syllabus and write down all your due dates for the time period you’re scheduling for.

Based on due dates, outside commitments, predictions of energy/mood/symptoms, assign assignments to the days of the week/month that make most sense for you.

Break down daily tasks into sub-tasks

You can do this (in advance) for your full week/month’s assignments, or do it every morning/evening.

Generally, your assignments will follow a variation of this formula: brainstorm, create an outline, research, write rough draft, edit and revise. Test/exam prep will look something like: check to see what the test is based on, pinpoint important sections, review to see how well you know the material, create a list of items to study, rewrite select notes, make flash cards, study topic 1, study topic 2, etc.

What are the individual components of these steps? Here are some examples. Brainstorm: what should my topic be, what should my thesis be, what points can support my thesis, what do I need to research, what questions do I need to ask my prof? Outline: topic, thesis, points, conclusion. Research: write down all the important parts from each source (separately), then sift through to sort into Supporting Point 1, Supporting Point 2, etc. Rough draft: opening statement(s), intro, point 1, point 2, etc., conclusion, closing statement(s). Edit/revise: read and check for grammar only, then read again and check for spelling only, read again and check for cohesiveness only, etc. Topic 1: Part A, Part B, etc.

Each of these small components can be individual items on your to-do list. Big tasks like, “write essay” are too big for most people. Even “write rough draft” is daunting. If you start with something specific and small like brainstorming, and work your way up, it’s a lot easier to approach. Plus, being able to check off tasks more often and more easily will boost your confidence and your sense of competence, thus building momentum.

Here is a sample to-do list: Research X for Point 1 of Literary Essay, create outline for History Essay, Edit/Revise Assignment 1, study Topic 1 and Topic 2 for Test 1.

To-do list or time-based schedule?

To do list: Write down all your assignments for the day. Put them in the order you want to do them, or go through them intuitively (based on what you feel like doing, or what’s most practical at the time/place you’re at).

Timed-based: Write down all your assignments, then write down the time you’re going to do each of them. You could set reminders or alarms if you want, or simply refer to the list. There’s an awesome app I recommend if this is your thing. It’s called Structured (iOS only).

Curate your study environment for maximum focus

Eliminate distractions such as uncomfortable clothing, sounds (or silence), phone and computer notifications, clutter in the room and on your desk, people who may try to talk to you (shut your door and/or inform them that you’re busy).

Designate a space to doing homework only and avoid spaces that you associate with other things (do not study in bed, as you will want to relax or sleep, and/or you will mess with your sleep by weakening the bed’s association with sleep).

Build associations: Incorporate other events and items into your study/homework routine that you only use while doing that, so that you associate those things with studying/homework (examples: specific playlists, pencils/pens, cups/bottles, scents, rituals, decor, etc.).

Ensure good lighting (preferably including daylight).

Get dressed in clothes that make you feel good about yourself. They don’t have to be “professional” and they should definitely be comfortable. Do not stay in your pyjamas. Believe me, I know this can be hard, and I love PJ’s. But they are not good for productivity.

Don’t “multi-task.” It may feel like you’re getting more done this way, but by splitting your focus, not only do tasks take longer, they also diminish in quality. Commit to the task you’re doing.

Meditate: You can even meditate for just 1-5 mins right before studying, homework and/or classes.

Practice self care (daily!)

Sleep (enough, well, and regularly).

Daylight: Get outside, work by windows, use a light therapy box. These can help regulate your sleep, improve and maintain mental health, and boost energy.

Fresh air: Getting outside even for a couple minutes can help you refresh and reset, and feel good about yourself and your life. Fresh oxygen can help you wake up and is great for your health. Even just opening your window can do a lot for your mood, energy and motivation.

Movement: Try to move at least once per day. The benefits of exercise are numerous and immense.

Healthy and consistent eating: Avoid spikes in insulin levels by eating regularly so you don’t have extreme dips in your energy level. Also, brain power uses calories too, so make sure you’re eating consistently, and try to eat healthy. There are so many other reasons eating consistently is good for your health (and by extension, your productivity).

Relaxation and leisure: Make time for fun and socializing, as well as intentional relaxation. Hobbies, movies/tv, time with friends/family, meditation, baths, progressive muscle relaxation, etc.

Therapy: Your therapy sessions are not daily, but you can do 5 minutes of inner-work per day based on what you and your therapist are currently working on. Working with a therapist is a great way to stay on track with your goals, and develop the skills and positive mindset required for success in school.

Reward yourself

Track progress: Reflect on all the assignments you’ve completed and your grades to remind yourself that you’re capable!

Completing to-do lists daily maintains a sense of accomplishment which keeps your momentum going. Check those items off! Or give yourself gold stars! ⭐️

Treat yourself with non-food rewards: Tie completed school work with fun tasks like video games, or take yourself out for coffee, or some other small (non-food) outing. What I’m trying to do right now is not do my leisure activities until my daily tasks are done.

Develop a positive mindset

Take promises you make to yourself seriously. The more you break promises to yourself, the easier it will get to continue breaking promises. You will lose respect for yourself which lowers motivation, and you will lose trust in yourself which can become debilitating as well. The more you keep promises, the easier it will get, the more motivated you’ll become, and the more you’ll trust and respect yourself. Your confidence will improve, and you’ll feel better about yourself. Productivity is choosing yourself. Discipline is choosing what’s best for you instead of what you feel like doing in the moment. Discipline is a muscle, and like any muscle, it can be strengthened, and it can atrophy.

Remember your “why.” What is the end goal of being in school? What’s your career path, and why did you choose it? What will your life be like when you have that career? What would your life be like if you gave up and didn’t make it to your goal? Aiming for your dream while running from your nightmare is a great strategy for maintaining motivation. Lighting a fire under your *** can be a huge motivator.

Remember how good you feel when you get schoolwork done, and let this motivate you to stay consistent. You can also remember how you feel when you don’t get work done, but definitely focus more on the positive!

Go to therapy and/or hire a coach. There are SO many benefits to therapy and I’d honestly need a whole other post to get into it. You don’t need to be depressed or mentally ill at all in order to benefit from talking to a therapist. They can even help you with time management, procrastination, motivation and more! If you can afford it, please do it. It’s such a worthwhile investment.

Be consistent

No “zero days.” Do at least a bit of homework or studying every day so you don’t slip into vacation mode. Make schoolwork a daily part of your life, so it just becomes the norm.

Build productivity momentum (track progress, check items off your to-do list daily, treat yourself, keep promises to yourself, remember your “why,” remember how success feels).

Stay on top of projects. Your assignments are made up of smaller tasks you assign yourself across time. “Success is the sum of small efforts repeated day in and day out.” - Robert Collier

Avoid burnout (more on this later).

Keep it interesting (more on this later).

Avoid burnout

Self-care: shower and/or bathe regularly, maintain proper sleep habits, stay hydrated, take care of your skin, do relaxation activities like meditation and reading, do fun activities, pamper yourself every now and then with face masks or foot baths, take your meds as prescribed, eat well and regularly, get outside often, move daily, etc.

Break up study/homework sessions into small, manageable chunks of time, with constructive (refreshing) breaks in between.

Break assignments down into even smaller tasks so that you aren’t over-working yourself during the course of a day, and so that you don’t overwhelm yourself (the stress can lead to burnout).

School-life balance: Keep up with your social life as best as you can, make time for your hobbies, maintain self-care, say no to things that don’t serve you, etc. Try to follow through with scheduled schoolwork 100% of the time, but know that you won’t. Sometimes you’ll need to prioritize mental health over schoolwork (be careful though, this is a very fine line, and a slippery slope). Sometimes things will come up and it’ll be out of your control. But more than anything else, there will be times when you just decide to prioritize something else like fun and socializing over schoolwork. This is why your schedule needs to be flexible: to accommodate sudden invites to hang out and random decisions to skip a homework/study session, but more importantly, flexibility will reduce the odds that you’ll skip in the first place. If your schedule includes hobbies and socializing, and anything else that’s important to you, then you won’t feel deprived. If you have school-life balance, you’ll have more of yourself to devote to schoolwork when it’s time to.

Keep it interesting

Romanticize your life by putting effort into making all of your daily tasks a special occasion.

Make meals and drinks special by using your favourite dinnerware and cutlery. Perhaps even incorporate extra elements such as: a beautiful tablecloth, napkins, candles and/or dim lighting, music, wearing your favourite clothing, etc.

Pretend you’re the main character in a movie about a successful, productive student (because you are the main character in your life).

Make games out of studying if this is something that interests you (the Forest app comes to mind).

Use lots of colours in your notes and buy colourful stationary! 🌈

Vary your approach/methods if needed to avoid boredom.

Study with friends (online or in person).

Reward yourself often.

Remember your “why.”

[hardestgrove]

A thought I had for how to use Billy in season 4 if you wanted to have him around for the Hawkins plotline.

For starters— Max is still vecna’d. There’s enough shittiness in her life without Billy’s death to make her a target so I’m not gonna worry about juggling changes to this.

Personally, I’m of the opinion that Billy was in the same grade as Steve because the gym scenes read to me as PE class and not basketball practice (how the hell could Billy join mid/late season? etc) and PE is not usually a multi grade affair. So he’s working somewhere in Hawkins, say a mechanic shop or a record store. If you’re adamant he’s still in school then he’s on the basketball team with Lucas and Jason. I will admit this is more juicy narratively.

I’m aggressively ignoring how fucked up Billy’s body would be and how long it would take to get through physical therapy and how he’d likely be impaired for life by his injures because it’s television and the rule of god  in television writing that everyone knows, is when someone is injured — even critically — it heals in time for the next season and they’re as mobile and strong as the plot demands.

Lucas over the course of his like year+ dating Max has gotten a better sense of the Vibes in the Hargrove-Mayfield home and either knows or suspects that Billy is being abused by his dad. Him and Billy have a tense relationship that is slowly crawling towards tolerable solely because of exposure to each other because of Max/Sports. For Lucas the knowledge that Billy is being abused makes him conflicted. He doesn’t like the idea of ANYONE being hurt like that but Billy has also been dogshit to him so he doesn’t know how to feel about this. Because like, Fuck Billy right? The question “how much of our beef is because of your dad hurting you?” colors all their interactions for him now. There’s no clear stance or message or anything about how Lucas should or does feel about Billy, knowing he’s abused doesn’t make him instantly forgive him. We just know that it’s strain and he’s conflicted.

Billy is friends with Eddie from the start of the season. It’s a 60k weed deals to besties situation. Met because Eddie’s a dealer and Billy works at the record shop to they see each other around and when your drug deal becomes an Event because you two can’t shut up about Dio then congrats you’re just friends now. Billy is IMMEDIATELY invested in the Eddie manhunt plotline and doesn’t need to be convinced he’s innocent. Probably says something like “Munson couldn’t win a fight against a 5yo like fuck he’d kill a chick”. Might’ve even been someone Eddie turned to when he fled the trailer. Was definitely there when they found him. Billy also very early on pits himself against Jason, starting off a a Whole Thing there.

Billy and Jason are narrative foils. Jason seems like a nice guy, a bit of a jerk jock but hey, he’s 18. But over the course of the season we see him devolve into his worst self and it’s frankly shocking. Billy comes off as an abrasive asshole but we’ve seen with the s3 flashbacks, his constant internal battle against his possession, and his saving Eleven that he’s actually a good dude at heart. The similarities and differences between him and Jason are made more apparent over the season and are a highlighted part of their arcs.

Billy along with Lucas are originally more focused on the Jason-Eddie plotline. But Billy INSTANTLY focuses on the Max plotline the SECOND he finds out she’s about to be the next victim, even more so than Lucas who’s thinking more logically. Like, full blown meltdown, throwing things, hitting stuff, screaming, season 2 Billy wrecking shop in the Byers house levels of unhinged. Some combo of people manage to calm him down to the point he’s at least not an active detriment. Likely some combo of Max, Steve and Robin since I don’t feature others being very effective lol. But it’s extremely jarring for everyone, including Max, because it really does go a long way to show them how much Billy really does care about her. Which isn’t all ways obvious because of his bullshit.

Around here my thoughts on this get a little more fuzzy. the two most obvious ways to use him at this point are that he’s glued to Max’s side and is part of this timeline’s dear billy grave scene. Lots of sibling emotional shit, likely some with Lucas too as they’re the most invested in Max. Also maybe some bonding with Steve since Steve’s a good guy and can see Billy’s a wreck worrying for Max which sets them up to like, Actually Be Friends. I can also see him being put on Eddie/Jason duty. Basically being pitted against the basketball team and all that to slow them down and make sure Eddie’s safe because we all know that Billy could deliver a smackdown on Jason on every level. This plays well into the Billy/Jason foils idea. Having Billy somehow at the townhall when Jason’s trying to incite a lynch mob would be a genuinely epic showdown I would pay to see. Also having Billy pitted against Jason and the team gives us an opportunity to see Billy using all his rage and toxicity and bad behavior in a more constructive way. Like he can really unload onto these guys because what they’re doing is blatantly fucked up and it would likely be a bit cathartic for him. Billy’s likely been trying to choke down all his rage and violence to “be a better person” but now he’s getting to use it for a good cause instead of just hurting the people around him. You could also likely mix these two up and move him between the two plotlines as needed. Though I admit I find it hard to see him leaving Max’s side but maybe she convinced him to help Eddie who knows.

The whole season is filled with the unspoken tension between Billy and Lucas and while that tension has been wearing down with more speed than ever given their mutual love and fear for Max it’s still there and it’s still looming over every scene they’re in together. When we get to the final mission more likely than not Billy refuses to leave Max’s side and doesn’t join the attack on Vecna.Which yeah is bonkers because Billy??? Not in a Fight??? Seems fake. But I stand by this because he’s nothing if not an overly extreme emotional fucko. If she’s going to let herself be bait you KNOW he’s not leaving her. He just cannot do it. So it’s him and Lucas out here being tense as fuck. Billy having to listen to Max talk about the ugliest shit she’s thought about him as she lures Vecna and we get to see how it effects him. Knowing Dacre, there is a single perfect tear™.

When Jason shows up Lucas still gets to have his “i wanted to be just like you except not bc jfc you’re insane” moment but instead of it being Lucas and Jason fighting, it’s Billy and Jason. Because the culmination of the 2 season journey of squashing the Billy-Lucas beef is that Billy takes on the same role that Steve had when it was Billy rocking up acting psycho. Lucas being brave enough to say that shit while having a gun pointed at him cements a lot of things for Billy. Because however you portray Billy or what kinda dude you think he is, he’s had months to work on his shit AND I always stand by the concept that his long term issues with Lucas would always be more around the fact that Lucas is dating Max and to Billy, all men are dangerous. It’s his responsibility to look after Max and her dating just fucking sets him off. To him the threat of a new Neil is ever present, any man could secretly be a Neil and if Max ever got hurt by a Neil and he couldn’t stop it he’d fucking implode. But right here at this moment he’s getting his wake up call that Not All Men Are Neil and that Lucas is good person who loves his sister.

So Billy puts himself between Lucas and the gun and it’s the second time Billy’s put himself between Lucas as a threat but it’s the first time it’s explicitly for Lucas. Which understandably is A Lot for Lucas. These two don’t get on, Billy terrorized him, threatened him and tried to hurt him. They’ve basically only tolerated each other because they’re in each other’s spheres because of the Upside Down nonsense and Max (and basketball if Billy’s in school). Even with a better idea of what Billy’s life actually looks like Lucas has still not been a real fan and has been very conflicted about how much he feels it really matters to him. But now Billy’s taking on a dude who’s got a loaded gun pointed at them, physically shielding Lucas from possibly being shot and going to town on him to keep Lucas safe. So uh, it goes a long way to heal the rift. A bonus is that since Billy is fighting Jason instead you can have Lucas focus on Max and the walkman isn’t necessarily destroyed. Depends on how much drama you want for the finale.

If you keep Eddie dying Billy goes off the rails with grief. If Max and Eddie get got-- Literally no words. You’d be lucky if he didn’t wrap his car around a pole. Literally the only two people he cared about and who cared about him are dead or effectively so and they were the two who he was “in charge” of protecting. It’s ugly. If both are alive he and Eddie talk about being roommates since Eddie’s trailer is gone and shit. Billy makes a smart ass remark to Max and Lucas that’s basically his way of saying he’s cool with them as a couple and with Lucas. Probably has a scene with Lucas where they explicitly talk about the squashing of the beef. Also I want some Billy-El interactions because I just think they’re neat.

okay WOW this is WAY LONGER THAN I’D THOUGHT IT BE. why under estimate my length? i’ve literally been doing this for years lol but YES this is a very rough first draft/brainstorm of how you could’ve written an arc for Billy in season 4 if the desire was to have him in the Hawkins plot and not say the Russia one.

[trainsinanime]

This is a nice video that may or may not tell you anything new, but I definitely recommend it if you’re into that sort of thing. However, there’s one problem, and that’s the comment section. That is always a problem on Youtube, of course, but in this case it’s very particular: It’s full of people “well actually”-ing the part about the Liège-Aachen-Cologne rail link, and they’re all wrong. Some very wrong, some are a little wrong, at least one person has invented a new rail line out of thin air.

So as a rail nerd who lives on this line, let me set the record straight. I’m going to do it once here instead of as a reply to every comment. Yes, that means the people who are wrong won’t see it, but this is really more therapy for me anyway.

Belgium has excellent rail connections to both France and the Netherlands: A direct high speed rail link each, where you can cross the border in trains going 300 km/h (240 mph). It’s not entirely flawless, ticket prices and service levels could be even better, and there’s the issue of AnsaldoBreda that still lingers on, but in a global context, still excellent and world-leading.

When it comes to Germany, Belgium has a high speed rail line from Liège, the HSL 3, that heads east and… stops right at the German border (to be precise: two kilometres from the border line).

Because that’s how Germany does things; that’s just the country we are. The biggest most important European rail link country in both north-south and east-west direction, and a major source and sink of international traffic in its own right, and the government just doesn’t care. For every single German border, I can name you at least one rail project where our neighbours are building better infrastructure or want to run better services, or are planning that or have done that recently, and the German side just drags its feet and doesn't care. Every single border. Yes, including Luxembourg. But that’s a whole other post, so, eh…

From the end of the HSL 3, trains to Cologne follow the old Aachen-Liège line, which is according to some sources the oldest international rail line in the world (definitely the oldest in Germany). There are some odd fun facts due to that, for example that trains from Belgium to Germany run through the oldest still existing German rail tunnel (there were earlier ones but they got replaced by new tunnels or cuttings), or that part of the line used to be cable hauled initially, so it’s still incredibly straight.

The important part is that this is just a conventional rail line. The line has been upgraded recently, but not to high speed standards, just to normal standards after it was in a very sorry state for decades. It now has 160 km/h top speed and is electrified at Belgian 3 kV DC (the tracks in Aachen central station can be switched). There are plans to rearrange what voltage gets used and switched to where in the future, which has implications for regional trains that nobody is dealing with yet, but it’s unclear when this will actually happen.

The line east from Aachen is very heavily used, by high speed, regional and local trains and by freight trains, mostly international ones to Belgium. Freight trains use a different line into Belgium, which starts at a different station in Aachen and is strictly freight-only, but if they’re coming from Cologne, which is frequent, then they’re also going to run through Aachen central station. 

(Fun fact: There are two active rail border crossings between Germany and Belgium, and one that is technically open but only used sometimes by a museum railroad at the moment. All of these border crossings are in Aachen.)

This line section has been officially declared as overloaded, which should in theory release some funds to start some plans to maybe increase capacity. There are a number of useful proposals at various stages, but the only thing currently under construction are some new passing tracks.

The line is fully grade separated (since very recently, 2020, when they replaced the last level crossing with a bridge! Woohoo!), but the first part is still a conventional line with conventional 160 km/h speed limits and some relatively tight turns with even lower limits, in particular one outside of Eschweiler. That is until we come to Düren, roughly halfway between Aachen and Cologne. If you’ve seen my Bördebahn post, you may remember Düren from that.

Between Düren and Cologne, the line has been upgraded. High-speed trains can run at 250 km/h (though I’ve heard some sources say that only ICEs reach that, and Thalys trains only reach 200 km/h). In addition, there are separate S-Bahn tracks for local services from there to Cologne. I’d advise against using them unless you have to because the seats are terrible. Regional and freight trains still share the same tracks as the high speed lines.

(For bonus points, there is actually a mining railway that runs parallel for a short section after Düren. It’s exclusively used to bring lignite from massive open-pit mines to power plants in the region. If you heard about "Ende Gelände”, protests against open-pit mining and lignite burning in Germany, e.g. from the Philosophy Tube video on violence, this is actually the area where this is all going down. I think this line may be what someone in those Youtube comments meant when they talked about “an extra bulk freight line that gets freight trains out of the way”. But that would be wrong; the line is not a public railway and is not compatible with normal electric freight trains. It’s functionally just a lignite conveyor belt that looks funny.)

So that’s the situation: Half of the line from the Belgian border to Cologne has been upgraded to high speed standards; specifically the half that is closer to Cologne. There are no dedicated high speed tracks anywhere on the German side; while parts have dedicated local tracks, the regional and freight trains are all still there, competing for very limited line capacity. Compared to the completely new lines on the Belgian sides, it’s really not much.

Service levels are also not great. Between the German ICEs (which run from Frankfurt via Cologne to Brussels) and the French-belgian-dutch Thalys (which run from Paris via Brussels to Cologne and these days further to Düsseldorf), there is just one high speed train per hour per direction. All of them are only 200 meter long units as well. This isn’t because of lack of demand; these trains are full and the Thalys, which requires advance booking, is frequently booked out days and even weeks in advance. And by the way, ticketing between ICE and Thalys is not integrated at all, for extra confusion and annoyance.

What does this tell us? Well… don’t be Germany, I guess, at least in the specific case of cross-border travel. The 160 km/h from the Belgian border to Aachen central is not great, but probably fine, since it’s only a small section. Beyond that, I would argue that the biggest problem of that section isn’t even the top speed, but the line capacity. Upgrading the line between Aachen and Düren to 250 km/h would sound great on paper and could probably cut travel times by 10 minutes on the entire line, down from 36 minutes in an ICE at the moment (regional trains take roughly an hour). But there isn’t really any room to run more high speed trains here, even though they are sorely needed, and plans to add another regional train line on the same tracks aren’t helping any.

I’ve read idea collections that propose building an entirely new line from Düren to the Belgian high speed line, bypassing Aachen central station entirely (Aachen would get a new stop somewhere to the south of the city). This would probably help a lot with travel times, and the capacity constraints between Düren and Cologne aren’t quite as severe as the ones around Aachen yet. But it would also be really expensive. It’s not an official plan, it’s just what someone wrote in a rail magazine as “this would be a good idea”, and I think it is going to remain that for several decades at least, but most likely forever.

So that’s the situation: The German extension of the eastern branch of the Belgian high speed rail network is a partially upgraded conventional line that is actually a bit quicker than people give it credit for, but manages to be both underserved and over capacity at the same time.

[i-rationality]

Mathematical Olympiad Journey

The end of an era ;-;

I’m actually quite sad it’s over, the shot that I move on to the next phase is kind of slim but I honestly had so much fun and feel so proud of myself.

The olympiads used to be a very big source of anxiety, I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life doing an olympiad exam, I completely froze up, barely wrote anything on the page. I had to go to therapy because I have anxiety not only socially but also in terms of putting huge pressure on myself academically, associating my worth to my accomplishments.

The fact that I walked in there and, not only did I not freeze but I also, calmed myself down by doing the breathing exercises my therapist taught me and managed to answer most of the questions is absolutely astonishing. Remember to celebrate these types of accomplishments! Celebrate your bravery, celebrate your growth! 

Now I’m going to tell you what I did the morning before and what I did during the exam + “my regrets”:

10/11/2021

 - morning:

In the morning before I looked through some exercises I had gotten wrong, the ones I wasn’t able to look over before and saw what the problems were. I especially payed attention to where I felt the least secure over my knowledge. This wasn’t a very loaded effort, it was a very soft revision. After that I just rested and did some brething exercises here and there, when I could feel my anxiety creeping in. Also cleaned up my room and stuff, you know just activities to take my mind off of it.

I was priviledged enough to have friends go with me and their mere presence made it all a lot more wholesome and less pressuring, it definitely added perspective.

 - exam:

During the exam I’d say the only thing I would’ve changed was having different perspectives on the exercises. It is easy in exams like this to focus immediately on the details without looking at the bigger picture first. So yea, if I could rectify something I’d tell a few hours ago Inês to focus on the bigger picture first and then focus on the details!

 - after:

My biggest problem after the exam was really realizing some mistakes and realizing how a problem I wasn’t able to solve was supposed to be solved. It is very frustrating and can feel a bit depressing, knowing you could’ve done something and not having done it feels like shit. The answer is really stoicism lmao, don’t worry, or even care, about things you aren’t able to change. The person you are now isn’t the person who was solving that exam but I can absolutely tell you that both those people are doing their best, give yourself grace and empathy, there’s nothing you can do now.

11/11/2021

It was worth it, going in there and proving to myself that I put in the work to better my mental and can now see direct results of it. Proving to myself that I put in the work and developed some critical thinking/problem solving skills. Realizing things I could’ve done differently or more efficiently will be endlessly frustrating but it is so worth knowing I did my absolute best in those conditions and in those two hours.

It’s definitely the end of this series, I don’t know what other people answered and how well it went for them, I know it’s pretty likely a girl in grade 10 passes and I hope she does. Idk it’s just a reminder that passion for mathematics carries on existing and that there will always be kids who have this spirit within them. I hope she has a bright future, I bet she deserves it.

It would be a great feeling to pass and to write more of these posts, which is something I wasn’t expectting to miss as much, and to continue studying and feeling that euphoria of getting something particularly challenging correct.

I hope this encourages someone to try out for the olympiads, if you’re able to get over yourself and realize that this isn’t that big of a deal in the grand scope of things, I promise you will have a lot of fun and it will be an extremely rewarding experience.

Take care, remember to love freely.

[plaidbooks]

Guardian Angel

A/N: Hey y’all! This has been an idea for weeks (just ask @witches-unruly-heart​) and I finally wrote it! It’s Sonny Carisi x reader, and is just a short little thing. This is also the first time I mostly stay in Sonny’s pov rather than reader’s.

Tags: mentions of insomnia/medication, fire, smoke inhalation, mentions of death/dying, spiritualism and talks for angels/guardian angels

Words: 1651

Taglist: @beccabarba​ @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​  @ben-c-group-therapy​ @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​  @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​ @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​  @redlipstickandplaid​  @reading--mermaid​ @averyhotchner​ @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

Sonny yawned, his eyelids drooping. It had been a hellish time the past month or two, and Sonny’s insomnia had been keeping him up most nights, even with medication. Nothing seemed to be able to help him sleep; he normally just passed out somewhere in the middle of the night, then jolt awake when his alarm went off.

It was already getting late in the day, but because of his exhaustion, Sonny was behind on paperwork. It had been like he was working in slow motion, his brain not able to focus. He didn’t think he could stay super late but was trying to at least finish the motion he was writing. He let out another yawn, then blinked a couple of times, trying to shake the sleep away.

 ****************************

Sonny awoke coughing. He was slouched over his desk, and his throat was burning. He blinked his eyes open, shocked to find his vision obscured by heavy smoke, his eyes instantly tearing up. The fire alarm was muffled outside his office door, and Sonny’s exhausted mind put the pieces together; the building was on fire. He rolled out of his chair and onto the floor, hoping to find less smoke there. But he already felt so weak; how long had he been breathing in smoke? With how much his throat—and lungs—burned, he figured for a while.

He crawled towards his door, remembering what he learned in grade school. Taking off his jacket, he wrapped it around the doorknob, and tried to open it. But it was futile, and his strength was failing him. In a last-ditch effort to be of some use, he moved out of the way of the door, hoping that his body wouldn’t be blocking it when the firefighters found him. He knew they would; you were a firefighter. His last conscious thoughts were about you, and the ring he was going to propose to you with…if he survived.

 **************************

Sonny woke up, but kept his eyes closed—even so, he felt the tears streaming down his face. There was someone touching him, feeling for a pulse at his neck. But his throat hurt so bad, and he couldn’t draw in a fresh breath. It was like he was drowning, but instead of water filling his lungs, it was smoke. He blinked his eyes open, and found a dark figure leaning over him. They were silhouetted with light, and Sonny figured that it was an angel coming to take him to the next life. That was the only explanation—after this long without oxygen, there was no way he lived. For a moment, he was struck with a terrible sadness; he never got to say goodbye to you, the love of his life. Surely, you would be heartbroken over losing him, and he felt guilty for dying in such a stupid way. But as the angel scooped him into their arms, he was filled with a sense of love and peace, ready to let this wonderful being bring him to an even better place—a place with no pain, no stress.

The angel touched their own face before reaching down and touching his, and suddenly, Sonny could breathe again. His throat and lungs burned, but he knew that once he left his body, all his pain and fear would leave him. He closed his eyes against the smoke, letting the angel shepherd his body to Heaven. With his last remaining strength, he thought about you, willing you to accept his death and to move on, find love again. He swore he could feel a part of his spirit resonate with yours, and he knew you’d be okay without him.

***

It was completely against protocol, but you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when you found Sonny passed out on the floor in his office. Once you found a pulse and lifted him, you took off your oxygen mask and strapped it to his face.

You carried him back out of his office, heading for the stairs—he was on the eighth floor, and this was going to take all your strength. You had radioed down when you found your boyfriend, and you knew more firefighters were coming to help you carry him out. As expected, on the fifth-floor landing, your team appeared. You were panting, your throat burning from the smoke, and you were insanely thankful for the help.

“Where’s your mask?” one of them—Jones—yelled over the blaze.

“On the civ; he was barely breathing,” you called back. He nodded before taking Sonny’s legs—his face had to stay near you since he was connected to the oxygen tank—and helping you carry him down and out.

Once outside, you quickly found a gurney, laying Sonny on it. You took the oxygen mask off him, letting the medics slip their own on his face. His eyelids fluttered, and you made out his glassy pupils, blearily looking at you. He gave you a small smile.

“Th-thank you,” he muttered, voice raw. You could feel your heart straining, and then he was unconscious again, the medics wheeling him away. As you watched him go, you let out a rough cough, hacking out the smoke you inhaled while carrying Sonny.

“Go get checked by the medics,” Jones ordered. You were about to argue when you started a coughing fit again. “Go!”

Huffing, you went to the back of an ambulance.

***

Sonny woke up on a soft bed, his lungs and throat still burning. The hospital lights were bright, and he squinted against them. The same figure from before was leaning over him, and Sonny was confused. How could he be in so much pain if his angel was right there next to him? The room was a blinding white, and his first thought was that it was Heaven. But as his eyes focused, he saw that it was just a normal hospital room. Turning to look at his angel, his vision cleared, and he gasped as he recognized your face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a series of coughs. You grabbed a glass of water off his bedside table, and held it up to his mouth, letting him drink.

“Relax, Sonny. You breathed in a lot of smoke,” you said softly.

Once done drinking, you put the glass back down. “I—what happened?” he asked, voice strained.

“I was hoping you could tell me; when I arrived on the scene, I didn’t see you outside with the others evacuated. So, I hurried to your office and found you passed out by your door,” you explained.

Sonny closed his eyes to think about it. “I…think I fell asleep at my desk.” He ducked his head sheepishly, wondering how exhausted he must’ve been to sleep through an alarm like that. “I crawled to my door—I remembered that smoke rises—and tried the knob. But it was stuck, and I was already so weak…” he trailed off, feeling foolish.

“Okay…well, it’s a good thing I’ve already talked to Hadid and got you time off. You need to sleep more, babe; maybe we can talk to your doctor—”

“That’s not all,” Sonny said suddenly, as if you hadn’t said anything. You could see his eyes light up with a thought, and you leaned forward to listen. “I was woken by an angel. They—they lifted me, gave me a breath of fresh air. They carried me to safety, doll.”

You blinked at him. “Sonny, my love,” you took his hand in yours. “That was me.”

He furrowed his brow at you; that couldn’t be right…. There must’ve been divine intervention—he wouldn’t be alive without it. “B-but I was choking, drowning in smoke, and they gave me air—”

“I took off my oxygen mask and put it on you. I-I’m sorry if I’m somehow damaging your faith, but that was definitely me, lifting you and carrying you out of your office.”

Sonny thought about this; it all made sense, what you were saying. Suddenly, everything clicked together; it all made sense! You watched as he sat up straighter, his smile blinding.

“So, it was an angel who saved me!” he said triumphantly. You opened your mouth to softly counter, but he continued. “You’re my guardian angel, love. You saved me, gave me your air.”

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, goosebumps running down your arms. “Y-yeah…I guess I did—” “Oh my god! You gave me your air on the eighth floor! Are you okay? Did you inhale a lot of smoke?”

You chuckled which turned into a cough. “Just a little bit; nothing compared to you.”

“I-I love you,” he muttered in awe. “You risked your life for me.”

You tried to shrug nonchalantly. “I-it’s part of the job—”

“Not taking off your mask for a civilian. That was all you, doll.”

You gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hand gently. “Well, I couldn’t let you die on me, Sonny. I love you too much.”

He returned your smile, squeezing your hand back. “I love you, too.”

“And the good news out of all this; both of us are on bedrest for a little while. And I intend to make you sleep.”

Sonny chuckled, coughing a little bit. “I’m not gonna fight you on it, my love.”

You smiled, glad for some time off. But Sonny had other thoughts; like when he was on the floor of his office, his mind traveled back to the engagement ring, nestled safely in his sock drawer. He pictured himself kneeling in front of you, looking up into your face. In his mind’s eye, you were smiling softly, angelic, the sun haloing around your head.

“Whatcha thinking about, Sonny?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him.

His grin got wider. “Nothing…just about how much I love you.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

No, It's Definitely Funny

Prompt: Can I request a second part to "Let's Call It Funny" where Bucky, Sam, Steve, and Peter unite forces to confuse and concern all the other avengers (with at least one instance where two or all of them respond to something by pretending to jump off a building?) Love you! -Auggie

Does it count as being back on my bullshit if I never left?

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for gen z humor

Pairings: it's still found family hours

Word Count: 2259

Peter’s gonna be honest, he may or may not have some competition for the funniest person in the Tower right now.

Because let’s look at the list here:

Traumatized? Everybody and their private jet’s worth of vintage and designer baggage needs therapy.

Queer? If you think Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, or Sam Wilson is straight, you need to tell them everything they’ve ever done to make you think they’re straight so they can stop doing it immediately.

Superhero? Yeah, okay, shush, now you’re being stupid.

Neurodivergent? Have you seen the way these men behave? Definitely the model of Perfectly Normal Person™, what on earth are you talking about, absolutely 100% Normal™.

The only things he’s still got going for him that the others don’t are high-schooler and trans. That’s not a lot when it comes to the fact that hey, two of them are from the Great Depression—let’s be honest, they’re the OGs when it comes to fatalistic humor—and they’ve all got years of practice.

Sure, Peter’s got some trauma-given raw talent, but it’s not refined by years and years of throwing yourself off of buildings and out of planes to avoid having conversations about your emotions.

The day Aunt Nat dropped all of SHIELD’s files on the Internet and Peter found out that Steve yeeted himself out of a plane—without a parachute!—to avoid Nat’s prodding about getting a date was the best day of his fucking life.

“Don’t you go stealing my moves there, kid,” Steve had scolded playfully, winking over the rim of his mug.

“Try and stop me, I dare you.”

“And this is why,” Tony had sighed, looking every bit his 79 years—“Hey!”—as he watches this interaction go down, “you have a parachute built into your suit.”

“I’ll just wear my old one, don’t worry about it.”

“That heinous thing that’s just a cut-up old hoodie and goggles? Peter, no, that thing is being held together with safety pins and hope!”

“I mean, me too, so it’s fine.”

“Peter!”

“Also, like, it’s the one I almost got crushed to death in, so it’s got the emotional trauma seasoning already.”

“Wait—“ Bucky had sat up— “you almost got crushed to death by a building? Sheesh, kid, you’re really flirting with the reaper, huh.”

“It wasn’t so bad, I had training from the years and years of carrying the weight of my sins crawling on my back.”

“At least ask Death for his number next time, he’s not returning my calls.”

“Sergeant, I swear to God—“

“Actually, Death uses they/them pronouns, I asked when I met them last weekend.”

“What the fuck did you do last weekend?”

“Really? Oh cool, well, can you get their number for me? We had a date back in ’45 that they missed.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“Tony, why are you screaming? Not keeping dates is a very serious matter.”

“Trust me, I speak from experience, Tony, it’s not a good habit to get into.”

“You should respect your elders and not scream while we’re talking to you, mister.”

“All of you shut the fuck up.”

See? On one hand, it’s great to have more partners in this venture of making Tony’s hair turn grey—he’s that age, it’s bound to happen any time soon now— “One more crack about my age, kid, I swear.” — but on the other hand, Peter is seriously losing his massive lead on funniest person in the Tower.

The other thing he’s worried about is Sam’s ability to make it so the others can’t actually worry about him.

Because—listen, Sam Wilson is a fucking national treasure and all you fuckers better acknowledge that. It’s no secret that the Captains take turns going out with the shield, all of them answer to ‘Captain America’ because that’s what they are, but no one—and Peter will never say this under threat of death because he does not need any more of the Steve Rogers’ Puppy Dog Eyes™, thank you very much—no one does it better than Sam.

And that means that Sam fucking Wilson can turn a fatalistic, self-deprecating joke into a motivational speech that doesn’t feel disingenuous or cliché at all and everyone is too busy processing the philosophical revelations they’re having to scold him for his, frankly, outstanding sense of humor.

It’s not fair and Peter can’t do it.

He tried. Once.

Didn’t go very well.

No, he’s not gonna talk about it, let’s just move on.

Sam has offered to catch him a couple of times when he gets himself a little too deep into the Mamma Spider™ or Iron Dad™ trap of feeeelings, and he gratefully scoots out of the way when Sam sits down next to him and just makes another joke.

Sam is also a fantastic role model for the brand of ‘I’m going to the store and only have twenty bucks, stop asking for your will to live back’ jokes.

“Hey, Pete!”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go, bodega run.”

“Can we pick up some hopes and dreams, too, all of those got scribbled out in fat red Sharpie yesterday.”

“I said bodega run, not Court of Miracles run.”

“But Sam~”

“Listen, kid, if you manage to find your hopes and dreams in this bodega, keep an eye out for your childhood innocence, that might be on the next shelf over.”

“Deal.”

“Do you two need some more therapy appointments?”

“Only got fifteen bucks, man.”

“I’m literally a billionaire!”

Peter eagerly studies under this pinnacle of humor and keeps his worries to himself.

Because if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and Peter’s sense of humor is wonderful, but he is a tad intimidated by the amount of variety the others have got going for them.

“You’re a fucking terror, Spider-ling, that’s what you are.”

“Not true! I was ‘a pleasure to have in class.’”

“Oh, is that why you’re taking ‘Little Shit’ lessons from Barnes and Rogers?”

“And Sam! Don’t forget Captain Wilson, he is an invaluable part of this team. I’m surprised at your ignorance.”

“Pete—no, that’s not—“

“I’m ashamed for you, Mr. Stark.”

“Listen here you little shit—“

Anyway…

Steve and Bucky have a habit of telling these like, really awful jokes that have Peter in stitches for half an hour. It’s not fair and he doesn’t get why they’re so funny because they aren’t, and yet here he is, laughing anyway.

It’s probably some combination of Steve’s perfected innocent face that he wears when he has to do interviews and Bucky’s habit of not giving a single solitary fuck. But they’re able to make the worst jokes with completely serious expressions and it’s not fair.

“Hey, can you guys come help me with something?”

“Sure, Peter,” Steve says instantly, bounding over with his 95-year-old Golden Retriever energy as Bucky trails behind him like a cat that’s sitting in your lap because he wants to, not because he likes you or anything, “what’s up?”

“I have a history project on WWII due tomorrow and I haven’t started it yet.”

Bucky snorts, taking a swig of coffee and sitting down on the floor. Which, same. “You got your eulogy planned?”

“Drafted, sighed, notarized, but Aunt May said no so I gotta do this.”

“Well, if Aunt May says no then I guess that’s that.”

Tony, from far away in another part of the Tower, has a sickening feeling that May Parker has once again proven that she is the most powerful parent and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I, um,” Peter mumbles, fidgeting with his pen, “I want to be respectful of your boundaries, and if you don’t want to talk about anything then—“

Because it’s one thing for someone to make jokes about their trauma and another for someone else to go poking and prodding at it.

“Hey,” Steve interrupts softly, nudging him with his knee, “first off, thank you for saying that and we appreciate your respect, but we got you. You worry about enough, sweetheart, let us take care of ourselves.”

Peter gives him a look.

“When it comes to this,” Steve amends, having the decency to look a little sheepish, “we’ll take care of ourselves.”

Bucky scoffs. “Uh-huh.”

“We will, Buck.”

“My therapist will be real happy to hear that.” He looks up at Peter and winks. “Besides, what good is our trauma if we don’t pin it up and display it for good grades?”

Peter huffs, the joke undercut a little by the way Bucky knocks his foot against Peter’s and Steve’s arm stretches over the couch behind him.

Peter has to resist the urge to lean his head onto Steve’s shoulder, because then Steve’s hand will come up and ruffle his hair and Peter’s eyes will droop slowly closed as he loses himself in the warmth and safety of Steve’s embrace and then Steve will lean down to press a kiss to his temple and—

Right. Homework.

“What’s it on specifically,” Bucky asks, clearly spotting the temptation on Peter’s end, “home front? Overseas? Time period?”

“Uh, it’s an analysis of total war.”

“Like, how much of the country was devoted to the war effort?”

“Yeah, basically. It’s talking about how the Nazi War Machine made their war total and how that extends to a lot of other countries, but also about the reasons why the war was fought—“

They delve into a conversation about total war, Peter pointing out how Italy’s motivation for territory keeps it from being a total war on their part, Bucky speaking to how the different dynamics worked in various countries and the fallout, Steve bringing up how much of the home front was devoted to bringing attention to the war being fought overseas. Then, of course, as is inevitable, they devolve into storytelling.

Peter’s notebook—with notes! He did his job!—is set aside as he gives in to the need to let Steve cuddle him on the couch. Come on, the man is warm and big and gives good hugs, how is he supposed to not? Bucky sprawls out on the floor, leaning back on his hands as he smiles fondly.

“You know,” he remarks casually, “I fought a Nazi in my pajamas once.”

Peter blinks sleepily. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, though how he got in my pajamas, I have no idea.”

Peter snorts. Then he giggles. Then he’s collapsing into Steve’s side, positively sobbing with laughter.

It’s not funny.

It’s really not that funny.

But here he is, fucking dying, and he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to welcome the sweet embrace of oblivion.

“Okay, note to self,” Bucky murmurs when he’s calmed down a little, wiping away tears, “sleepy spider likes corny jokes.”

“Just don’t break our baby spider, Buck, Momma Spider would kill you in cold blood.”

“Listen, if Natasha Romanoff kills me, don’t prosecute. That’s on me.”

Peter can’t do corny jokes. He really can’t. He just sounds like he’s a recording so old it’s unintelligible and it’s bad. He has a reputation to maintain here!

However, there is one sense of humor that Peter is very eager to learn and adopt, and hey, it might actually be Iron Dad™ Approved!

It’s a rookie mistake, asking Bucky Barnes for a hand, but in his defense, Peter was left unsupervised and was distracted.

“Hey, Bucky, can you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, Peter.”

Something nudges his arm and he looks down. It’s Bucky’s metal arm, bumping up against his elbow.

It’s a cheap joke. It’s bad. It does not deserve Peter’s laughter.

He snorts anyway.

“That’s on me,” he says after a second, “you know what, that’s my fault.”

“What, is this not what you meant?”

“No, no, you’re fine.” Peter scruffs a hand through his hair. He looks down at the prosthetic again. “Well, that’s disarming.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to snort. “You gotta hand it to me, though, it’s a good joke.”

Oh, it’s on.

“No, no, of course, I understand. You really can’t let an opportunity like that slip through your fingers.”

Steve chokes on his next sip of coffee. “Stop making the kid shoulder the burden of making puns with you.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Don’t palm this off on someone else, Steve, you’re as bad as he is.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Peter shrugs. “You just gotta knuckle-down and find the right one.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to reach for puns?” Bucky hefts his arm.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say a lot.”

“Jeez, Pete, good one.”

“What, are you not finding them humerus?”

Sam’s gone, Steve shortly after. Bucky just grins proudly at him.

Then there’s a massive thunk from behind them. Peter turns around to see Tony slamming his forehead into the counter.

“You are all going to kill me,” he mutters, glaring up at them, “all three of you.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. Stark, Captain Barnes would never hurt you.”

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“After all,” Peter grins, gesturing to Bucky who is doing a very good innocent face—he must’ve been taking notes from Steve— “look at him, he’s completely armless.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker—“

Okay, so maybe it’s not Iron Dad™ Approved.

Oh, well.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Seventeen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Exams, pizza, board games... what more could a girl ask for?

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

 “That was a lot of chess,” Emily complained, nearly chugging her latte as she and Spencer left the coffee shop. 

She pulled her beanie onto her head and braced herself for the snow as the taller boy held the door open for her. Emily almost slipped on the slushy tile floor on her way out but managed to keep her balance. 

“Fifteen of the multiple-choice questions to be precise,” Spencer replied. The salted sidewalk crunched under their feet as they made their way across campus. 

“I’m so glad it’s finally over,” she admitted. “I think I’ve had enough philosophy to last me a lifetime.” 

“I’m enrolled in ‘Minds and Machines’ next semester,” he said. “I think I might try and get a double minor this time around.”

“What’s the goal? Three PhDs by the time you’re 24?” Emily quipped. 

He was well on his way, having completed his engineering degree before she managed to graduate high school. He was 17, only two years younger than her, but somehow seemed like a kid. A kid with more education crammed into his brain than she could ever master in her life.

“Something like that,” he replied with a smile. His hair was getting long and he had tied it back during the exam. With last names starting with P and R, they were seated near each other in the large exam hall, and she glanced over at him as he fussed with his hair. 

They stopped at the red light, watching as the cars and busses wooshed past them, sending the slush flying into the snowbanks. It had been a fairly sunny day, but bitterly cold. Now, the sun was setting and the campus was bathed in a warm golden glow. The snow had fallen the night before, leaving fluffy white snow covering their campus. 

Emily had spent most of the day holed up in the library with Spencer, with him quizzing her on fallacies and philosophers. With his eidetic memory, he only really needed to read the material once. Earlier in the semester, she did feel useful when it came to editing each other’s essays. He always got bogged down with detail, word vomiting everything he knew, and she helped him with his structure and argumentation. 

More studying awaited her back in her room. She rubbed at the back of her neck as she thought about the upcoming evening spent hunched over her desk studying criminal justice, a subject that left her questioning her degree half the time as she was forced to learn about the muddled ethics of justice. 

That week, she had survived on minimal sleep, eating mostly bagels and coffee to sustain her. Her body was protesting with each step, and she had suffered from a constant tension headache for as long as she remembered. At least her college had that golden retriever walk around at the library yesterday, she thought to herself, sarcastically. Animal therapy definitely relieved all her stress. As if petting a dog for five minutes would fix the anxiety of finals season. 

Two more exams, she reminded herself. You’ll make it. 

Despite this mantra, Emily was conflicted. While finals were killing her, the end of the semester also meant winter break. Emily would be forced to go “home” for the holidays. For most college students, that meant going back to their respective towns and being surrounded by their loved ones. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t have anywhere she called home. Last winter break, her mom had at least been in DC, and Emily was able to catch up with some of her international school friends who were in the city. This time, her mom was stationed in London, and Emily knew she’d be roped back into her old life. She didn’t know anyone there and knew most of her break would be spent alone. 

The last place she had called home was Rome, and now that was tarnished by her complicated past with that city. 

Emily was good at being alone. Being an only child of a workaholic single mom meant she learned to keep her own company. She read a lot. She got good at running away, escaping her nannies, and skirting security in order to roam free. She’d be fine. 

The problem was that Emily had gotten used to this. She rarely spent a moment alone these days. Whether it was walking to class with Spencer, or Hotch, or Derek, getting lunch with the team, surprise coffee dates with Penelope and spending almost every evening with her girlfriend, she hadn’t been left alone in ages. She didn’t miss it. 

Their residence building had a warm yellow light shining out of the windows and a soft red brick facade. In the summer, ivy grew up the south facing side but in the winter, the ledges were covered in snow and the stone steps were slippery. She trudged forward, excited for the warm embrace of the dorm. 

Spencer had other plans. He reached into the garish yellow plastic newspaper box that was stationed next to their doorway and retrieved this week’s newspaper. 

“Come on Reid,” Emily said. “Just subscribe to the newsletter or something like the rest of us.”

He held up the cover to her in surprise. Usually it reported the news of a recent sports victory, or a change of policy announced by the administrators, or even a fun event held on campus. Sometimes there was even a dramatic protest or an important speaker coming to campus. But this week, the headline surprised her. In large font printed across the page read: “Multiple student politicians fired amid financial scandal.” 

“That sounds bad,” Emily said. It did seem way more dramatic on newsprint than on a website, so maybe Spencer was onto something with his affinity for the printed word. 

Grabbing a copy for herself, she then walked inside to escape the cold. Warm air greeted them as they entered their residence hall, and both students kicked the snow off their boots before trudging up the stairs. They read as they walked, but the route to their rooms was already muscle memory, so neither worried about stumbling on their way. 

Normally, Emily wouldn’t willingly touch this sort of student politics with a ten foot pole. Sure, she was involved with the Criminology council, but there was a difference between the kind of person interested in petitioning for better accessibility to faculty events or running a bake sale, and the kind of students to embezzle thousands of student dollars like what the current student government executive seemed to be accused of doing. 

She quickly ran her eyes down the page, the contents jogging a memory from Halloween, of Hotch and JJ discussing the early stirrings of said scandal. 

“You know,” Spencer said, “I’m surprised they got a lot of this information, it’s notoriously difficult to file FOIAs for student governments, as they’re technically private corporations. So the fact that they got these files means that this is a much bigger scandal than one might assume.”

Corruption, bribery, embezzlement, nepotism. All words that jogged memories of hiding in the corner of political fundraisers, overhearing the worst of politics from too-drunk elites sipping on their wine and munching on charcuterie. 

“I hate politics,” Emily said, stuffing her copy of the paper into her bag. 

“I find it interesting. It’s basically a microcosm of our current political climate. In fact, I have subscribed to the print edition of fifteen student papers in the region,” Spencer said, “I like to keep informed on the coverage of student issues, and compare them to our own.”

“Why?!” Emily said with a laugh. “You know you can just look them up online.”

Spencer gave her a withering look, and she should have known better than asking about his aversion to tech. He loathed having to use his computer, as the LCD screens apparently gave him a headache. Penelope even gave him a pair of blue light glasses to attempt to alleviate the issue.

Then, he began to speak, at length, about the dying printed news industry and why print copies were better for understanding than screens et cetera. She made sure to nod and hum at appropriate points, but her mind kept wandering. 

She wondered if her girlfriend was in her room. Emily missed her any time they were apart and she yearned to hold her in her arms once again. But she shouldn’t. She needed to work. She had too much to do. Her grades had slipped, slightly, this semester. Everyone warned her about how college would be harder than high school, but no one ever warned her how much the expectations were raised in second year. 

Two more exams. She clutched her coffee tighter. She’d rather do anything else besides study at this point. Her body was exhausted, her mind frazzled. She wondered if she could even manage to get through a chapter of revision before conking out on her desk. 

As she said goodbye to Spencer and struggled with her keys that were tangled up in their corresponding university-branded lanyard, JJ’s door opened.  

“Hey girlfriend,” JJ greeted her, sounding way too much like a straight girl greeting her platonic friend for Emily’s taste. She gave her a pass because it sounded cute in her voice. 

“JJ!” Emily said, somehow surprised to see her despite the fact that she lived right across the hall. Her girlfriend was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweater, with her straight hair tucked behind her ears and her face bare of make up. Her face was lit up with a smile, and Emily rushed towards her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“Hi JJ,” Spencer said as Emily and JJ kissed. 

When they pulled apart, JJ gave Spencer a smile as a greeting and asked them how their exam went. 

Spencer babbled about their Logic exams for a minute or two, as Emily basked in JJ’s presence. She grabbed onto her hand and found that it was so much hotter than her own and wasn’t sure if she held on tight because she was cold, or if she had missed her girlfriend. 

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Emily said. “I never want to hear about fallacies again.”

Spencer seemed to want to say something, but fell silent at Emily’s tired expression. 

“Wanna come in for a bit?” JJ whispered in Emily’s ear. Apparently she said so a touch too loud because Spencer replied instead. 

“Sure!” he said, and then walked into JJ and Penelope’s room. 

“I should really study,” Emily tried to argue, but a single glance into JJ’s deep, blue eyes had Emily melting. 

JJ’s room was much messier than Emily had last seen it. Both desks showed clear markers of the ongoing exams, with papers and books piled high. In addition to this was an assortment of pillows strewn all over the floor.

“You guys are back early!” JJ said, after checking her watch, “I thought it was a two hour exam?”

“I finished in an hour,” Spencer said, “and Emily only needed an extra half hour on top of my time.”

Damn straight, Emily thought, feeling somewhat competitive with the boy-genius despite herself. 

She really should study, but the prospect of seeing her girlfriend outweighed the desire to sit hunched over a textbook for another evening. 

Emily and Spencer kicked off their boots, placing them neatly on the mat by the door before peeling their jackets off and hanging them on the back of her door. Emily wasn’t sure if she liked winter. Whenever her mother was stationed in the Middle East she yearned for snow, but now that she was experiencing the Nor’easter for the first time, the desert sounded like a good time. 

“Well there goes my plan,” JJ said, blowing her hair out of her face with a puff of air.

Spencer flopped onto Penelope’s neatly-made bed, collapsing into the assortment of pink pillows while carefully keeping his take-away cup upright. Emily sat down next to JJ on her bed.

“Your plan?” Emily asked. 

“Yeah,” JJ said, sounding a bit shy. “I had this whole plan to make up a blanket fort here for you, and I would surprise you with it when you walked in.’”

JJ gestured with her hands at the mess. Blankets and pillows were strewn about, and a bundle of fairy lights were laying in the middle of the floor. 

“Then you came back early,” JJ concluded. “Spence, I thought you’d keep her occupied longer!”

“You didn’t tell me that,” he replied. Spencer looked quizzically at her, shrugged, then took another sip of his coffee.

“I just wanted us to have a cute date night,” JJ admitted. “I know you’re so stressed, and you deserve a break.” 

Emily grabbed her girlfriend’s moving hands and held them in her own. She felt overwhelmed. JJ was so… thoughtful. Caring. Attentive. So many things that were absolutely foreign to Emily. No one had ever tried to impress her like this. 

“It’s okay,” Emily said. “We don’t need anything special to have a cute date night. You’re cute enough.”

JJ gave Emily a goofy smile in response. 

“Okay,” JJ said. “If you say so.”

“You’re building a blanket fort?” Spencer asked. “I actually have some experience with blanket fort architecture.”

“You do?” JJ asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

“Of course,” he replied, seeming almost offended that she questioned him. “It sparked my interest in engineering. I wanted to overcome the problem of chair-tippage when it came to building the structure, so I devised a system of counter-weights that I found increased the structural integrity by 53%. My mom always told me that I could be an architect, but I thought the sciences better suited my intellect.”

“Oh?” Emily asked, genuinely interested. How would someone measure the structural integrity of a blanket fort? 

“Actually, I have some blueprints. Let me grab them,” he said, standing up and making a move for the door. 

“Of course you have blueprints,” JJ laughed. 

“I should probably go feed Gideon, anyway. I’ll be right back!” Spencer  said. Before closing the door behind him.

“Gideon?” Emily asked. 

“His fish,” JJ said, “the one he won at the fair. It’s named after his professor, I think.”

She shrugged. The kid was weird, they tended to just accept that. 

“I guess Spencer’s joining us on date night,” JJ said. “Sorry. I know you’re stressed and probably want to be studying, but I thought we’d order pizza and just have one night off. Just us. And Spencer.”

JJ planted a firm kiss on Emily’s lips, leaving her dazed and blushing. 

“Relaxing sounds perfect,” Emily said, pulling her girlfriend closer to her. “I can’t believe it’s already exams. This semester has flown by. Soon it’ll be winter break, and I won’t get to see you.”

“I can’t imagine you not being right across the hall,” JJ said. “Who will give me kisses when I want them?”

JJ kissed Emily, sucking on Emily’s bottom lip slightly before pulling apart to look at her. 

“I know you’re joking, but I hope you’re not kissing anybody else, no matter the circumstances.”

With that established, Emily pounced on her girlfriend, pushing her onto her bed and kissing her deeply. She intertwined her fingers in the blonde locks that were splayed out in a golden halo and breathed in deep, taking in the warm scent of the lilac candle that burnt on her night side table. 

All her worries melted away at JJ’s touch. Emily’s brain was filled with the feeling of JJ’s lips on hers, with her lithe form beneath her. Exams, student politics and thoughts of home were wiped away, and her stress faded into background noise. 

JJ’s pliant form writhed under Emily’s, her hands sneaking below Emily’s sweater and dancing over her back. They deepened the kiss until they were making out like teenagers in JJ’s dorm with the door still open a crack. 

This was how Spencer, accompanied by Derek, found them when they pushed open the door with blanket fort blueprints and bags of potato chips in hand. 

Spencer made a surprised noise, which made Emily aware of his return. She jumped up and pulled apart from JJ with a dark red blush gracing her cheeks. 

“Woah there ladies,” Derek said with a laugh. “Keep it in your pants!”

“Guys! I was gone for five minutes!” Spencer whined. 

Emily stood up awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she watched JJ sit up and pat her hair down in a huff.

“Sorry,” Emily grumbled, not really meaning it. She would never be sorry for kissing JJ, but she was sorry for the awkwardness

“Pretty boy dragged me down the hall,” Derek said in explanation. He had Spencer’s rolled-up fort plans in his hand, and lightly smacked Emily’s head with it, making a comedic thwap noise as it made contact. “Hope you weren’t in the middle of something?”

“Only JJ’s legs,” Emily quipped to everyone’s surprise, even her own. JJ hit her jokingly and blushed. 

“Hey!” Derek laughed, “Let’s keep this PG!”

“You called?” The voice of Penelope Garcia—PG if you will—rang out from the hallway, and within seconds JJ’s room was filled with just about all their friends standing around in a slightly awkward silence: JJ, Emily, Spencer and Derek were joined by Penelope with Hotch in tow. 

The latter two of them had grown closer recently and walked into the room with white shopping bags with the walrus logo printed on the side, looking like they had just returned from out in the cold. Penelope and Hotch going thrifting together, that’s new! Emily thought to herself and decided to file the observation for later. The image of Hotch watching Penelope’s customary fashion show was enough to make her laugh under her breath. 

“We’re building a blanket fort,” Spencer announced, changing the subject to the task at hand. “Are you guys helping?”

“Oh you know I will, boy genius,” Penelope said with an excited smile. 

Emily looked over to her girlfriend. So much for date night.

———

Without much questioning about why they were building a blanket fort, the team got to work. In college, sometimes things just happened. Impromptu blanket forts were par the course. In their defense, any excuse to not spend the evening burying their heads in textbooks was a welcome reprieve. 

It started with just a few blankets draped in the space between JJ and Penelope’s beds, but with Spencer’s instruction, a verifiable architectural marvel began to take shape. 

While Emily knew that Penelope would be all gung ho for this sort of project, it was certainly amusing to see Hotch in his khakis and dress shirt crawling around on the floor like a child with the rest of them, tying off blankets and very seriously maneuvering the different parts of the structure. 

Sheets were draped here and there, tied together to form ceilings and walls. Two chairs stolen from the common room, loaded with backpacks on the seat for support acted as the entrance to the fort. 

While it was crawling space only, Emily had to note that there was a sense of awe when you emerged into the open space of the main fort-area. It was surprisingly big, fitting all six of them with ease. The key to the whole design was a curtain rod Hotch had stolen from the boys shower that lifted the roof up. 

The design was strangely reminiscent of Baroque architecture, which she was sure was due to Spencer’s designs. This was a fact that Emily kept to herself. She always tried to rein in the ‘I lived abroad’ conversation points so her childhood could remain under minimal scrutiny.

Emily’s exhaustion transformed into excitement as she relished the time hanging out with her friends. Music played from Penelope’s computer as they worked, they began to work as a cohesive group, each member doing their share. It was nice to do something besides sit at her desk and obsess over memorizing facts and statistics, or figuring out the proper argumentation for an essay on a subject. Making sure that a bunch of blankets didn’t crash onto them was treated with the utmost seriousness, and the whole group was focused with intense concentration at their own tasks. 

Spencer did, in fact, have literal sketches of blanket forts in his notebooks, but the details of which were fairly incomprehensible to her. While she believed that he did the math, his chicken scratch was just about indecipherable, and his drawing was little more than a few shapes on a page. Despite this, it was laid out on the centre of the dorm-room floor for them to reference. 

At one point, as Emily stood on JJ’s wheely chair, she feared that the fort had all come crashing down as she lost her balance and grabbed at the blankets to stop her fall before tumbling onto Derek with a yelp. 

“Sorry,” she muttered as she climbed back onto her feet and fought off the blanket that had wrapped her in a shroud. 

She flinched as she realized she had ruined it all, a pit forming in her stomach. She looked at her friends in concern, but instead of yelling at her for her mistake, or shunning her for ruining it for the rest of them, they smiled at her and helped her up.

“It’s okay!” Spencer said cheerfully. “I know exactly how to reinforce that wall.”

“You okay, Emily?” Hotch asked, righting the wheely chair as JJ fretted over her. 

“I’m good,” she answered, still confused as to why they weren’t mad at her. 

Instead of making a big deal over the set back, they went back to work. Soon, the fort filled out and it returned to its former glory. Arguably, better than it was because they had draped fairy lights throughout the inside, making the space glow with a warm orange light. 

Inside was filled with pillows and big enough for all of them to sit comfortably so it was a comfy lounge space. It was cozy and warm, the antithesis of the bitterly cold night air outside. 

“You know what?” Hotch said. “This is a damned good fort, Reid.” 

The group muttered in consensus. They all had piled into the space, and as the excitement wore off, Emily was wondering what happened next. What does one do in a blanket fort? She had vague memories of building one in her room, but she had just sat inside and read a book. 

“I hear the RA’s storage room has a ton of board games,” Penelope said. “They pull them out for socials and stuff.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re not asking Strauss to let us in,” Derek argued. “I still think she thinks we were responsible for that fire alarm last week. She’s been giving me the evil eye ever since.”

“Who said we had to tell her?” Emily said. “We could just… borrow… them…”

“I mean, they are for us to use, anyway.” JJ’s eyes had a mischievous look in them as she looked at Emily.

“That is true,” Hotch said, the scowl that was usually a fixture on his face turning to a smirk. 

“That’s stealing, guys,” Spencer warned, as if they didn’t already know that. 

“We’ll give them back,” Emily said with a shrug. “Come on!”

Penelope led the way to a dark wooden door on the main floor, it was labelled simply “Storage,” but the computer science student assured them that it was where the RA’s stored all of their supplies.

“It’s locked,” Penelope huffed.

“Do you have a bobby pin?” Emily asked her in a hushed voice. She wouldn’t have gotten this far if she hadn’t learned how to pick simple door locks. She had trouble with deadbolts but a simple latch she could probably do within a couple of minutes.

The blonde pulled a hot pink bobby pin out of her perfectly curled hair. Emily snapped it into two, bending one end into a longer L-shape. Sticking that into the bottom of the lock and holding it in place, she used the other side to feel for the pins that held the lock in place. 

Emily could feel all eyes on her as she confidently knelt in front of the doorknob, the group keeping watch for her as she worked. No one questioned how or why Emily knew how to do this. She had her reasons. 

This definitely broke all sorts of residence rules and if they got caught, they knew they’d get into shit, but no one seemed to care that much. They just wouldn’t get caught. 

After a couple minutes, Emily’s hands began to sweat. What if she couldn’t do this anymore? She tried to centre herself. She had made it through infinitely more stressful situations in the past. It was the eyes of her friends on her that made her nervous. She was finally accepted by a group, and she desperately didn’t want to let them down. 

Then, it clicked, and she was able to turn the brass knob easily. Emily made a noise of excitement, got to her feet and yanked the door open. 

Instead of an empty storage closet, on the other side of the door was Erin Strauss, their RA, in a passionate embrace with David Rossi. Her shirt was unbuttoned and he was in the middle of sucking on her neck. 

“Dave?!” Hotch called out, startling the couple. 

Both groups stood stock-still, neither knowing what to say. While Emily had hid the bobby pins, she wasn’t sure who was in more trouble, them for breaking into the room or their RA for using the space for unofficial purposes. 

The room was small and cramped, with a pile of poster board mostly obscuring the one small window that lit the space. Strauss had been hoisted onto the desk, her legs straddling the other student. Emily could see a shelf filled with the board games stacked on the left side of the room, but they seemed unimportant at the moment. While Emily had known about their illicit love affair, she had never expected to see it in action. 

“Hey guys,” Rossi said after a moment, his unwavering confidence carrying on to this moment as he pulled apart from Strauss, who was furiously buttoning up her shirt and trying to sort herself out. 

“What are you all doing in here?” she demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “This room’s meant for RA’s only.”

“Well,” Emily said, startled by her own audacity, “Dave isn’t an RA so…”

“We just came for some board games,” JJ said in her most diplomatic voice, despite clearly wanting to laugh at the situation, “then we’ll be off.”

“Take them and go,” the RA said in a strangled voice, her face beet-red and as she avoided eye contact like it was the plague. 

Clearly not as embarrassed as Strauss, Rossi simply smirked, collected a few board games into his arms off of the shelf, then deposited them into Emily’s arms. 

Realizing that given the circumstances, they couldn’t be picky with their choices, the stunned group thanked him then scurried away, back upstairs with their loot. The silence remained until they made it back to their floor, where they all burst into laughter.

“What on earth was that?!” Derek exclaimed. 

“Rossi and Strauss,” Spencer muttered. 

Emily and JJ made eye contact, remembering all those weeks ago when they had caught their friend emerging from the RA’s room down the hall in the middle of the night. They had known that Rossi and Strauss had hooked up that night, but had no idea that it was a whole relationship.

“I see it,” Hotch commented. “I mean, I don’t know your RA too well, but Rossi likes a woman with authority.”

Derek and Emily fake-gagged in an exaggerated manner at the comment. 

“I think I need to bleach my eyeballs after that display,” Emily muttered. 

“Ooo-kay!” JJ said, pointedly changing the subject. “It seems like we have most of the pieces to Clue… I think we could manage a game of that. We also have Scrabble, Yahtzee and Snakes and Ladders. Uh… also a pack of cards.”

“At least it’s not chess,” Emily said, thinking about her seemingly endless exam that afternoon. 

“Agreed,” Spencer said. 

“We do not have chess, no,” JJ said with a quizzical laugh. 

———

After ordering a couple of pizzas to the dorm, they all settled in to play a board game. After a few minutes of debate, they decided to play Clue (or Cluedo as Emily continuously referred to it as). The board was laid out: it was vintage, with a teal and yellow colour scheme and some scuffs and rips showing its age. In their blanket fort, they were seated in a circle, all secretly looking at their Clue cards.

“Can I be Professor Plum?” Spencer asked before they had even gotten the pieces out of the box. 

“Of course pretty boy,” Derek said, “I’ll take Mr. Green.”

“My sculpted god of thunder looks excellent in green,” Penelope flirted, choosing the white piece for herself. 

“Did you know that in the original version of Clue, Mr Green was a Reverend, but they changed his name for American audience because they believed that the American public would object to a parson as a murder suspect?”

“Good thing you’re on our trivia team, Reid,” Hotch replied.  

Emily was Miss Scarlet, of course, and was seated right next to JJ, who had chosen to portray Mrs. Peacock. Hotch claimed the remaining piece: Colonel Mustard.

Emily loved board games. Her nanny in France, who was a kindly elderly woman that Emily only knew as “Madame,” would play with her each Sunday after church. She has hazy memories from that time, but the warm glow of sunlight streaming into their Parisian apartment as she learned how to play Cluedo. Emily would always try to cheat, but knew better than to try to do so with her immensely observant girlfriend seated to her left, JJ’s hand resting casually on Emily’s thigh.

She looked at her cards and grinned. She had been dealt her own character, she noted, as Miss Scarlet’s name was printed in bold on the top of her first card. It felt weirdly validating to know that she herself was innocent. Also in her hands were the cards for the candlestick and pistol, as well as the observatory. She marked these off of her card and tried to gauge her opponents' reactions. 

JJ was checking her phone with her cards face down, tracking the pizza’s arrival. Spencer was sprawled back, his long legs taking up way more room than was necessary, jotting down notes on some scrap paper. Presumably some statistics and probability for the possibilities of the cards that were sealed in the envelope in the centre of the board. Penelope smiled over at Derek and flirtatiously tried to sneak a peek at his hand. 

After the initial rounds being dedicated to moving around the board, Emily finally made it into her first room: the lounge. There, she decided on her first suggestion.

“I suggest,” Emily said, in her most dramatic, formal voice, which was particularly suited to the role of Miss Scarlet, “that Mrs. Peacock committed this heinous crime in the Lounge with-” she hurriedly grabbed the candlestick, “the candlestick!”

She knew that it wasn’t the correct weapon, but using it would narrow it down to someone ruling out either JJ’s character or the lounge as the scene of the crime. 

“Moi?!” JJ said, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “Your own girlfriend?!”

Emily grinned evilly at her, but internally she felt giddy. It was the first time she heard JJ use that word in front of their friends. JJ moved her piece into the Lounge. The others chuckled lightly at their antics.

“You have no alibi for the crime, Mrs. Peacock,” Emily said, “and I am merely making a suggestion.”

JJ glared at her, but said nothing. Emily turned to Derek, who was seated at her left. 

“What do I do?” Derek asked, looking around the room, slightly confused. 

“Do you have any of those cards?” Hotch asked. 

“Yeah-” Derek said, moving to show his hand. 

“No!” Penelope stopped him. “Just show one of your cards to Emily if you can prove her suggestion was wrong.”

He made an “o” with his mouth and sneakily showed Emily the Lounge card. Emily noted that, and that it was Derek’s card. Mrs. Peacock had yet to be proven innocent, and Emily gave JJ a suspicious glance. 

She loved this game. 

As the game progressed, Emily noted a few things about her opponents. A part of Emily was profiling her friends subconsciously, reading each of their strategies like a book. 

Penelope always seemed to luck out on her dice rolls, covering a lot of terrain and gathering information like it was a cup of tea. But, she seemed to take it personally when someone accused Mrs. White of having killed Mr. Boddy and gasped every time someone made that suggestion. 

Hotch seemed to take the game very seriously, and was at it like he was an actual police officer solving crime. But, it didn’t seem that he completely understood all of the rules, and definitely hadn’t played before, so he spent most of his turn grumbling as he skimmed the rule pamphlet. 

Spencer, on the other hand, had memorized the rules, common strategies and probabilities of the different outcomes, so Hotch often looked over to him nervously as the boy wrote longhand equations in the notebook that he pulled out of his bag for the very occasion. 

Derek also had never played before, and regularly made ‘accusations’ rather than ‘suggestions’ when he entered a room, frustrating Spencer to no end. But, Derek was smart and seemed to be picking it up as he went along. That was until he made the same suggestion twice in a row, both times making Hotch show him the exact same card. He asked Reid endless questions about specific rules, and more than once he made the boy double check in the rule book when Derek tried to make a rather unorthodox move. 

JJ seemed to be the only one genuinely trying to have fun. She munched on the Cheetos that she stored in the bottom drawer of her night stand, and made conversation. Her strategy seemed to be exclusively focused on playing the game like it was the 1985 feature film Clue, playing the role of Mrs. Peacock with a fake accent and treating it like an actual murder-filled dinner party.

After a solid twenty minutes of gameplay, the pizza arrived. With minimal grumbling from Hotch, who was apparently on a roll, they took a break to eat. 

“Did you see this?” Spencer said with his mouth full, lifting up the copy of the newspaper that he had grabbed earlier.

“Don’t get me started,” JJ grumbled and took a sip of her pop. 

“What happened?” Hotch asked, the conversation piquing his interest. 

Spencer explained—with the assistance of JJ who apparently knew one of the people involved through soccer—the entire scandal. Apparently, last year there had been very little interest in the leadership roles, so the President of the student government had simply waltzed into his role. He then hired all of his friends, his girlfriend, his roommate, and together they embezzled thousands of dollars of student funds. 

“I can’t believe they’re getting away with this,” JJ muttered. “Is there no oversight?”

“It’s always the same,” Emily replied. “Who’s going to oversee them? The college? They’re corrupt too.”

“This sucks,” Derek said. “Wish someone good would run for government, for once.”

Emily shook her head in frustration. It all just reminded her of her childhood. Embezzlement, corruption and nepotism all were casual topics discussed over family dinner in her home. She had higher hopes for students her own age, would they not break the cycle? Or was it just a microcosm of the outside world? 

“You should run Mr. Lawyer Man,” Penelope teased Hotch. “You could take any of these clowns.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her and went back to his pizza, brushing her off. Emily smiled at him. Penelope was right, he might actually do a good job if he set his mind to it. 

The people that surrounded her now were nothing like her mother’s friends—or the kids she had been forced to hang out with when she was younger—they were genuinely kind, supportive, and seemed to like Emily for Emily. When she told them she was an ambassador’s daughter, they had been more concerned with the cool places that she had been able to travel to than whatever power she had. At college, Emily finally exhaled fully, slowly relaxing more and more into herself. 

But, the topic of politics always set her on edge, especially since the semester was ending soon. Her mother had already begun to leave her voicemails about the galas, fundraisers and events that she was required to attend over Christmas break. She pushed thoughts of the future aside and focused on the warmth that surrounded her. With some music playing softly (a song that JJ liked by Vampire Weekend), the softness of blankets under her, and JJ leaning on her slightly as she ate her dinner, Emily felt at peace. She knew she could handle winter break, because she knew that these friends would be here when she came back. 

After years of leaving a school midway through the year only to show up to some new boarding school or international school each time her mom was reassigned, Emily never had a chance to put down roots. But, with each bite of pizza, Emily felt herself becoming even more firmly rooted. Not to this place, but to these people as their lives became more entwined. 

Once dinner was over, the game continued, and thoughts of politics left their minds. By then, Emily narrowed it down to the weapon (the candlestick), two rooms (the kitchen and the billiard room) and she was pretty sure that it was Colonel Mustard that had committed the crime. 

She had a decision to make: walk all the way from the study to the billiard room, or risk being wrong by making an accusation. She was pretty sure both Hotch and Reid were on the right track, as the younger boy’s scribbling in his notebook had gotten even more intense and the older boy was beginning to look around suspiciously, as if the others were trying to read his notes. 

She had pretty much ruled out Penelope, JJ and Derek as competitors, as the trio spent most of the time talking, and genuinely trying to have fun. Emily, Reid and Hotch were all way too into it, but Emily was competitive and this was her game. She wasn’t going to lose to Hotch, no way. Reid winning she could blame on his boy-genius nature, but Emily decided that Hotch was going down. 

The two boys seemed to have come to the same conclusion, all eyeing each other across the board, the tension palatable between them as their competition became heated. 

She nervously tried to move to the billiards room, deciding to play it safe. Better safe than disqualified. But, as soon as she made that decision, she regretted it as Spencer straightened up on his turn and said: “I’d like to make my accusation.”

“Write it down,” JJ prompted, as per the rules. He jotted it down in his paper. 

Then, with bated breath, they watched as he grabbed the envelope out of the centre of the board, and read the cards. His face fell when he saw one of the cards, so he must have been wrong. He placed them back into their envelope and back onto the board. 

“No dice?” Emily asked. 

He shook his head. 

“Statistically speaking that should have been right,” he grumbled. “My math was wrong.”

“Boy genius isn’t a good detective, huh?” Penelope mused. 

A few turns went by, with Derek, Penelope, and JJ moving around the board or making suggestions. 

Emily rolled the dice, making one square from a room. She sighed. She’d make a suggestion next round. 

On Hotch’s next turn, he made an accusation, which he wrote down on a pink sticky note that Penelope had handed out when the game started. He checked the envelope. 

Emily held her breath. She was sure he had it and that the game was over. She should just call it quits now. She went to bite her nails out of stress, but stopped herself, they were starting to get long and she wanted them to look nice. 

A moment passed as Hotch compared his cards. After he saw the third card in the envelope, his expression revealed that was also wrong. 

Boys, Emily thought. Always so overconfident. 

She made a suggestion instead of risking it: “Miss Scarlet—er myself I guess— in the Billiards Room with the pistol.” 

It was a gamble. If she was right, and the people who knew she had her own card and the pistol caught on, they would also know that it was the Billiard Room, because no one would be able to disprove her theory. If she was wrong, someone would have the card for that room, and she would know that the crime occured in the Kitchen. 

The second seemed to be true, as Derek showed her his card with a small illustrated image of the Billiard Room on it. She was right. She knew what it was. But, she would have to wait until her next turn. She was going to win. 

But, it was she who was overconfident, because as she was too busy preemptively celebrating her win, Derek casually made his accusation. 

“Hey I’m right!” he exclaimed, holding up the cards and his own hot pink sticky note. 

In his semi-cursive scrawl read: “Colonel Mustard, Candlestick, Kitchen.” These guesses matched the cards hidden in the envelope, and Emily’s own deduction that she planned to make on her own turn. 

“You guys really thought I hadn’t played this game before?” Derek laughed. “I’ve got two sisters, board games were everything.”

“Were you hustling us, Morgan?” Spencer demanded. 

He smirked. 

“Should’ve put money on the outcome,” Derek said with a laugh. “I’d be rich.” 

Emily threw her cards onto the table in defeat. JJ shot her an empathetic look, and Emily tried to stuff her frustration down to pat her friend on the back for the surprising win. He deserved it.

———

After the game concluded and the pizza had been completely eaten, the group parted ways, heading to bed, or for more midnight snacks or to finish up some studying, leaving JJ and Emily alone and to start? a game of Scrabble. 

The board was ancient, and quite a few letters were missing, but with music droning on JJ’s laptop, and the soft fairy lights overhead, neither girl minded too much. 

Emily looked at her letters:  O, B, S, O, T, B, W and thought hard, rearranging the wooden pieces to try and formulate a word. After a long day of academia, and investing so heavily into the game of Clue, she probably had only one or two working brain cells and both were telling her to play the word ‘boobs.’  

Her eyes flicked to her girlfriend, who looked absolutely gorgeous in the warm light. Her blonde hair almost glowed, and she had an adorable expression on her face. Emily couldn’t help but glance lower, thinking about the real world examples of her Scrabble word.  

She played the word with a cheeky grin. 

“‘Boobs,’ Emily?” JJ scolded. “Really?”

She sounded angry, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her cheeks and Emily could tell the girl found it funny. 

“I can’t help it,” Emily said. “I haven’t thought of much else since last weekend.”

She raised and lowered her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, making JJ laugh and kick her lightly in protest. 

JJ then played the word ‘throw,’ using the ‘o’ from ‘boobs’ to form her word, earning her thirteen points. 

“I don’t think you can throw boobs, babe,” Emily said. “They’re usually attached.”

JJ rolled her eyes. 

Emily made it her mission to find the funniest words possible, working extra hard (and missing out on some good points) in an effort to make JJ laugh. ‘Armpit,’ ‘meaty,’ ‘hoagie,’ ‘urine,’ ‘joint’ and her piece de resistance: ‘boner.’ All while JJ was playing incredibly normal, and often strategic words like ‘axis,’ ‘snow,’ ‘vain,’ ‘snag’ and ‘writings,’ hitting multiple double- and triple word scores on the way. 

“This is fun,” Emily said, sneaking a handful of JJ’s Cheetos out of the family-sized bag next to the blonde, while she was distracted by playing her turn. 

“I don’t understand how you’re winning,” JJ muttered. 

Emily shrugged, “Guess I’m just a genius.”

“Reid? Is that you?” JJ joked. “Why are you disguised as my girlfriend?” 

“Would Reid do this?” Emily said, leaning over toward her girlfriend and pressing kisses all over her face until she fell back. Then Emily straddled her, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace that left both girls panting. 

“I would hope not!” JJ exclaimed with a laugh, making a face at the thought. 

They laughed and went back to making out, with Emily careful not to disturb the game pieces. JJ sucked onto Emily’s bottom lip, making her weak in the knees and she struggled to support herself over JJ’s shorter frame at the motion. 

“We should-” Emily tried to say between kisses, “finish the game.”

JJ kept deepening the kiss, going so far as to grab onto Emily’s butt to hold her in place on top of her.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Emily chided, “because I’m winning! I see right through your plot.” 

She sat up and went back to her tiles before playing another funny word: ‘suck’ for twenty points. JJ grumbled,fiddling with her own tiles, as Emily collected a few out of the bag. 

Emily was preening as she rearranged her own tiles and didn’t notice as JJ put down her word. When she went to play her next word (‘zap’) and only then did she see what word JJ played. 

‘Love.’ 

It was there. Clear as day. Written vertically and connected to the word ‘snow,’ it was unmistakable. Emily looked at it for a long moment, trying to figure out what it could possibly mean that her girlfriend very intentionally played such a loaded word. Was it the only word that fit? Did she only mean that she loved the snow? Was she also reading into it? 

Emily looked up, making eye contact with JJ. The blonde blushed and looked away, nervously fiddling with the necklace around her neck. Emily smiled faintly at the warmth that flooded through her, but alongside that, was the sharp pang of anxiety. Was she supposed to acknowledge that? Would that make it weird? 

‘Zap’ didn’t feel appropriate when her girlfriend may or may not have confessed her love for her. 

She played it anyway, deciding that making a big deal of it would just complicate matters. Besides, did she love JJ? She didn’t know. It was all so new. She liked JJ a lot. She definitely like-liked her in the traditional sense of the world. But Emily had never been in love before. She’d loved people before, Matthew for one, and her mother in a way, and she loved Derek like a brother. But being in love was a whole ‘nother ball game. 

JJ won the game after playing ‘equinox’ for twenty two points near the end, beating any lead Emily had gained from her silly words. JJ deserved it in the end, as the blonde would sit and stare at her letters until they formed the most complex words that Emily had never even heard of. Emily’s eyes drooped and she was barely able to create three letter words by the end, while JJ was still surprising her with her vocabulary. 

Emily shook JJ’s hand to congratulate her for the win. JJ grinned and kissed her. 

Then, they looked around and realized two things: it was past one in the morning and Penelope hadn’t come back to the room yet and that all of the blankets that JJ owned were currently being used in the blanket fort. 

“Can we sleep in my bed, tonight?” Emily asked. “I’ll help you clean up in the morning.” 

JJ nodded but was in the middle of texting Penelope, wondering where on earth her roommate had wandered off to. Within a minute she got back to JJ saying: with derek! will explain tmrw!! 😘 🧚‍♀️ 😳

JJ showed Emily the message and both girls giggled. Emily saw that coming, but didn’t realize it would be a game of Clue that finally sealed the deal.

Exhausted but happy and relaxed after the game night, Emily and JJ tumbled into Emily’s bed and cuddled up together. Between JJ and Emily, the word ‘love’ was left unsaid that night, but Emily fell asleep that night feeling a new warmth in her chest.

[cabinofimagines]

Failed Exam :(

A/n: I’m such a simp and I’m okay with it. Anyway, here’s this and uhh yeah I didn’t proofread at all :) - Day

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

A n n a b e t h

She hums as she looks over the exam sheet that your teacher returned to you after grading it. She furrows her brow and shakes her head, muttering things like “too vague of a question” and “there could be multiple answers to this”. You huffed from your cross-legged position on her bunk, “Annabeth, it’s no use now. Can I just burn it or something?” 

She looks at you incredulously, “Burn it?” She sets the paper down on the desk and moves over to you, arms crossed. You nod and reach for her hand, holding it loosely, “It’s like therapy, y’know? Burning the thing that caused me so much stress.”

Her face scrunches in a smile, “That sounds unhealthy somehow.” She brushes your cheek with her thumb, “But if you think it’ll help you cope then let’s find a lighter.”

H a z e l

You’re sat at your table in Mess Hall, pushing at whatever you had leftover from the offering. You lost your appetite after hearing your grade on the final you spent so long studying for. It didn’t make sense. 

Someone nudged your shoulder but you didn’t look up, not really in the mood to join the conversation buzzing around the room. The nudge turned into a comforting hand smoothing over your back, “You okay sweetheart? You look a little blue.” 

Your head turned immediately, a small but sad smile on your lips, “I’m fine, just finals y’know?” Hazel hummed in response and sat down beside you, gripping your arm close and leaning her head on your shoulder. A chuckle bubbled in your chest, the gesture was so sudden that you forgot why you were upset for a second.

“I made some brownies if you want one. And they’re still warm!” 

R e y n a

Reyna is sat at her desk looking over some of the new plans for the cafe an older demigod couple wanted to open when she saw the light bleed in from the door. She glanced up just in time to see your vacant expression move quickly over and fling your arms around her. She sputters as her chair squeals back from the sudden movement, “What’s wrong, mi corazón?” 

You let out a deep sigh and nuzzled into her neck, her braid brushing against your cheek. You didn’t want to tell her precisely what made you upset, not yet anyway. You just found out and the only thing that kept you from tearing up on the spot was the thought of Reyna. You just wanted her to hold you for a moment, just long enough to compose yourself. 

Her hand combed through your hair as she whispered into your ear, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

P i p e r

“I could charmspeak your professor into--” you cut her off with a laugh, “Pipes, that wouldn’t make me feel better, but I appreciate the cunning plan.” She grinned at your amusement and wrapped her arms around you. Her hands rubbed smooth circles along your back, coming to rest on your shoulders as you pulled away, “You still kicked ass in every other class, and yeah it sucks right now, but this exam doesn’t define you.”

You nodded in agreement, knowing she was right but still having a hard time getting over it. Piper could tell that it would take a moment to really get over this, so maybe she could distract you until then. “Picture this: you and me, that cute little ice cream shop downtown, and then seeing that new movie that just hit theaters?”

You hummed, your lips twitching upwards, “I can definitely picture that.”

F r a n k

You needed to spar, get your mind off of that stupid stupid exam. You were looking for somebody, anybody to fight with. You didn’t care if you lost, you just wanted to get rid of whatever frustration you had inside of you. 

Frank was warming up on the side right as you caught his attention and gestured him to ready up. He shot a shy smile and hustled over, raising his spear to show he was ready, “Your move--” You lunge forward and take advantage of his dropped guard, swinging your sword down against the base of his spear. He stumbles but catches himself, “Alright, so no friendly banter this time ‘round.”

You two spar for a good while and stop with no clear winner in the end. You’re both breathing heavily and sweating more than you’d care to admit, but regardless you still slump into his large figure. He sputtered, caught off guard again, “Uh…” He was confused as Hades, but hugged you back. He figured you probably needed it.

L e o

“It’s just one exam, babe!” He joked, but his smile dropped when he saw the glare you shot him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and thought that maybe he should try a different, more sensitive approach this time. He watched as your hands ran over your face miserably, you were close to tears at this point, the cause laying beside you on his workbench. 

He moved closer and crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his own calloused ones. You still wouldn’t look up, your eyes trained on his dirty boots. He pursed his lips, “Let me try that again; it’s just one exam. I know you studied really hard for it and I’m proud of you for working so hard on the material.” He pecked your knuckles, letting his lips rest there, “It really sucks right now, but I promise this doesn’t say anything about how smart you are or how hard you worked.”

Some part of what he said stuck, but it didn’t change how shitty you felt about failing. Still, you could tell he was trying to understand at least. You looked up into his big brown eyes, “Thanks, Valdez.”

N i c o

“A happy meal is not going to make me happy, Nico.” You grumbled and chewed on your fries grumpily. He stared at you with a deadpanned expression, “I never said it would make you happy, but you’re not hungry anymore, are you?” Well you couldn’t argue there, he even paid for your meal so you guessed you shouldn’t complain. 

“Y’know next time you have like a history class or something, I could probably get some reliable sources for you. The Underworld is full of interesting characters.” A small smile spread across your face, “Maybe, but I think I need a break from classes right now.”

Nico nodded and you two sat in silence again, just munching on your happy meals.

“Your professor is a dickhead.”

W i l l

“Well hello there, twinkletoes.” Will chimed, wrapping an arm around your waist as you strolled inside the infirmary. You looked a little glum but you moved into his embrace anyway, “Hello, sunspot.” His brows furrowed and he lead you over to his work station, sitting down on a wooden chair and bringing you to sit on his leg. 

His golden curls fell into his eyes, peering up at you curiously as if he was analyzing an injury. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it from him-- and if you did cry, at least you’d have a fantastic reason to steal some candy from his jar. Technically that’s for his younger patients, but you always got away with stealing a few. 

So you spilled. You told him everything that was bothering you, how you felt you didn’t study hard enough, how stupid you felt. He listened silently with his head rested on your shoulder, shooing people away if they looked like they were going to interrupt. 

P e r c y

Percy was napping after a full day of training the newbies at camp. It’s a position he enjoyed, but it was exhausting to fight and teach at the same time. Percy has always had a hard time breaking down the things he does. He just… does it most of the time. 

You snuck in while he was out, drooling on his pillow like he usually does when he’s this tired. All you wanted right now was to snuggle up with Percy and forget about that dumb exam, but you also didn’t want to wake him up accidentally. You moved behind him carefully, snaking an arm around his middle, and pressing into his back. This was already helping, just being close to him served as a sort of safety blanket for you. 

He stirred slightly, making you freeze in place. You could feel him tense up as his hands move to your grip, feeling your familiar hands before relaxing again. He turned to face you, eyes still closed and his lips pouty from sleep. He grumbled something, causing you to let out a questioning hum. “I love you,” he said again, a bit louder this time. You grinned, your heart swelling, “I love you too, Perce.”

J a s o n

“Babe, listen--” He stopped short when he saw you with your head down on your desk. He came to bug you with the new game Leo and him made up to pass the time, but you looked less than enthusiastic at the moment. He approached carefully because he didn’t know what was wrong and if it was something he did, well… he didn’t want a repeat of that incident. 

You looked up suddenly which startled him, “I failed my exam.” You croaked before letting tears of frustration fall. You angrily wiped them away as he moved to wrap his arms around you, bringing you to his chest. You sniffled, “I studied so hard and for what? I didn’t even pass.” He shushed you and kissed your forehead.

“You studied and regardless of what the results were, I’m proud of you for trying at least. It’s not an easy subject, but you still worked hard to understand and do well.” You calmed down slightly, but you still felt horrible, “But I didn’t do well--” 

“You will next time, okay? You’re a smart kid.”

.

.

.

-Day

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Last Chance For Spotting A Rainbow

If you know you know ;)

[ FM ]

The second Friday in school marks the end of the grace period for the first-grade parents where they can accompany their kids all the way to the classroom. From now on, we wait for them in front of the school with the other parents.

It also ends the grace period where I can “casually” bump into Miss Scully in front of her classroom and I’m a little disappointed, to say the least.

This morning though, I get lucky because when we enter the school, we run into her on the way from the teacher’s lounge to the classroom, a stack of books in her arms and a cup of coffee perched perilously on top of them.

Felix is ecstatic. “Good morning, Miss Scully!,” he yells from across the front hall and tugs me towards her.

She stops and waits for us, her coffee cup wobbling. “Good morning, Felix! Mr. Mulder!”

“Good morning! Do you need help with that?” I gesture towards her books but the shakes her head no.

“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. So Felix, you got any big plans for this weekend?” They’re walking in front of me and I’m proud of myself that I steal a glance at her ass only once. Okay and one at her legs. ‘Those heels, oh boy. Another pair to add to my inappropriate fantasies, in most of which she always wears heels. And nothing else.’

“Yeah, we’re going to the farmer’s market tomorrow! Have you ever been there Miss Scully?” Felix swigs his schoolbag along, his gaze never leaving her.

“Actually, me and my friends go there every Saturday, so maybe we’ll run into you guys there!” I somehow get the feeling that if Felix gets any say in this, we’ll be spending the whole day there until we run into her.

When we reach the classrooms, she finally lets me help her out. “Could you get my keys please? They’re in my back pocket. Just pull on the lanyard.” ‘Oh Lord. They’re in the freaking back pocket of her jeans. Of course they are. I just can’t seem to catch a break.’

Biting back a dirty joke – which I’m 100% positive she wouldn’t appreciate – I do as told and tug on the lanyard, unlocking her classroom door and opening the door for her. I briefly wonder if I should just put the keys back where they were, but the thought alone almost gives me a heart attack, so instead, I loop the lanyard with her keys around her neck and she smiles thankfully.

“Thanks. Have a good weekend, Mulder boys!”

After school, I don’t see her again because they’re, as Felix informs me, in the gym already. But I’m treated to a story about her in recess in the car.

“So I was sitting on the teacher’s bench again today and Miss Scully was talking to Miss Anderson and you know how they’re kind of weird and only ever use the first letters of their names? Miss Anderson always calls her “D” and I’ve been wondering forever what it stands for.” Yes I do know, I had to get him the book of first names from our library’s top shelf. Also, a kid’s definition of forever will never cease to amaze me. It’s been a few days, tops. I wait for him to continue.

“… and then, Miss Anderson said it, dad! She said: ‘Dana, I’m not sure this is gonna work!’ Now I finally know! …Dana.”

I nod, but on the inside, I sincerely hope that he hasn’t made the obvious connection, that her name is almost eerily similar to his mother’s first name. Just one letter.

---------

[ DS ]

That night, we order Chinese takeout, none of us particularly interested in cooking and we gather around the kitchen table. Sarah passes out the chopsticks while Holly opens a bottle of Shiraz, our classes clinking together for a toast. “Two weeks down! So girls, how was your week? Any juicy stories?,” Sarah asks, looking around at us expectantly.

“Well… I could tell you about that really awful date I had this week with Mark the banker, on which he made a move 10 minutes into the conversation buuuut I get the feeling someone else might have more interesting stories.” Holly points her chopsticks at me and grins, waggling her eyebrows. My own chopsticks pause halfway to my mouth.

“Me? Why?” I ask innocently, stuffing a piece of spring roll into my mouth.

“Very funny! You wanna tell me why I saw a very handsome dad leave your classroom all smiley faced on Tuesday?” ‘Busted.’

“What?! Mr. Mulder? How did I miss this?” Sarah looks at the both of us incredulously.

“Because your classroom isn’t across from D’s and you didn’t happen to look out through the window to see Dopey McSmileypants leave! So D, spill it, and don’t leave anything out!” I shrug nonchalantly.

“I asked a mom to help with read-alouds but her kid was sick, so since Mr. Mulder happened to stand there, I asked him if he could do it. Of course, the kids were all over him with questions, who are you, what are you doing here, you know how curious they are. He was a big hit with them, though, they absolutely loved him.” ‘They’re not the only ones though’

“Bet they weren’t the only ones who loved him, huh?” Damn Sarah for reading my mind! I laugh uncomfortably, shifting in my seat, but I nod. It was really nice to have him in my classroom. To cover for the fact that I’m not telling them the whole story, I help myself to some Kung-Pao Chicken. Sarah catches on anyway, of course she does.

“Wow, that’s mighty nice of him, to take an hour out of his workday to help you out! But I get the feeling that there’s more to the story, what aren’t you telling us, D?”

“Well… after he left, the kids had even more questions, they practically fell over each other, why are your cheeks so red Miss Scully, is he my boyfriend, or is he my husband? And… I caught myself thinking ‘Ya, I wish!’ …” I trail off, a little embarrassed at my admission.

“Man this is some serious Romeo and Juliet shit that’s going on here, D. So we’ve established that you like him, we suspect that he likes you too, judging by the glazed over look on his face when you walk by and he thinks no-one is watching. What’s the hold-up then?”

“Please don’t tell me we’re still hung up on the people talk – good reputation bs!” If I had hoped that the conversation would not take this turn, Holly quickly extinguishes it.

“I don’t know, guys… it’s not complete bs though, you know how I hate when people gossip about me behind my back, and dating the new guy in town puts me in a spotlight that I’m not particularly comfortable being in. I guess what’s worse however is that I’m scared. Like, terrified, of putting my heart out there again after that 2 year on-again-off-again shitshow with Steve last year.”

“That narcissistic asshole…,” Holly mutters under her breath and the others nod, remembering when I had finally hit emotional rock-bottom last year, after I realized that he’d gaslighted me over and over again, resulting in me having a mental breakdown curled up on the cold bathroom floor.

“My anxiety has been badever since, it’s getting better with therapy, but still… I just know I’ll screw it up. I’m damaged goods.” Alex, who hasn’t said anything yet, listening intently, finally speaks up.

“That’s not true, D. You’re getting help and you know we’re always there for you.” – “Yeah, we’ll kick anybody’s ass who dares to hurt you!” – “Don’t interrupt me, S. If he’d ask you out on a date, do you think you’ll say yes?” I consider this for a moment.

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know anything about him except that he seems to be a great dad and that he believes in aliens…” Holly bursts out laughing at the last part.

“What? Aliens?” I tell them the story that took place with the PTA parents in front of the school and the others join Holly’s laughter and I’m grateful that the conversation has taken a lighter turn.

“That’s too funny... You know, he could really learn a thing or two from his son, he asked us to his and his dad’s birthday party today at recess! It was so sweet, guys, I can’t even… We’re all invited, by the way – I think it’s going to be quite the event!” Felix had come up to Sarah and me today, holding out an official invitation and one that he had made himself, just for us.

“Yay, a party, I love me a good party! So, are we going to go?” Holly looks at us questioningly. Sarah only scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Are you kidding? Of course we’re going to go!”