#gcse physics teacher

[mirpkechi]

hi chat take my notes on getting to oxford and this dumb doodle of akiren

[origami-butterfly]

It still hasn't fully sunk in that I only have one exam left...

[scribbling-dragon]

Juno, respectfully, what the fuck is up with your bio teacher

to be completely honest with you i don't actually know hdsjhjkd

sometimes he can almost pass as a relatively normal science teacher but then he just does SOMETHING that reminds you of why he's the little freak of the science department (affectionate)

i do love having him though hjdshjk he bought all of us hot chocolates from the upper school cafe for christmas. he also chats w one of the people in my class about the witcher. and puts minecraft music on to help us relax (he has a gamer chair. he showed us photos of it bc he was so happy when he got it)

[darkeyedghost]

I got my gcse results today and I got a bagel and the sun was shining and things are good!

[gayness-and-mayhem]

I'm in the middle of my dissertation and it's due like, next week but I can't stop thinking about Laura Hobson.

[thronk]

My friend did Physics at A-level. He had this one teacher we'll call mr.bro. mr.bro was a fucking legend apparently. See, he taught in the secondary school next to the sixth form. He used to do all the fun experiments with the static electricity and getting people to shock each other and stuff because why not, he made lessons fun, we all liked him (I got sick of it at the end of 10 because our class were cunts so he couldn't let us do experiments.)

Anyway, mr.bro was very good at his job, my friend had him for A-level physics. He was apparently cool as shit because he knew how to make classes fun, how did he do that at A-level? Top Gear!

Apparently he just used to put on the non-studio parts of Top Gear:

(This sort of shit)

And he'd just say "Right, we did energy transfers today, show me what energy transfers take place in the episode and see how many you get right."

Now, lazy? Maybe he was. But smart? Absolutely. What he did was allow people to actually apply the shit they've learned in a fun way that still pertained to the curriculum he was made to do.

I am so fucking mad that I haven't had a teacher as good as that.

[snifferz]

no genuinely i fucking quit writing novels bc my english teacher always gave me a grade under everyone else bc the plotline was too complex or it was too much

my writing was decent AT LEAST like i poured my heart out into that shit and it was usually a form of allegory for something that i went through

shoutout to miss ayub /s

[studying-space-of-annie]

Crying I don't ynderstand science at all I'm gonna fail it tmr :(

[thoughtofadumbteenprotagonist]

okay, science teachers do not get to make fun of the humanities until they learn what an Oxford comma is and the difference between using “which” and “that”

[brtutors]

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What does one mention with a personal tutor?

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[totally-italy]

Wherefore dost motivation hold deep hatred for me?

As the heading probably implies, I am currently lacking a lot of motivation, which is truly sub-optimal because I literally have my Italian GCSEs this week and I literally have not revised. Moreover, my End of Years are fast approaching and I have my French GCSEs in three week's time. Help.

Consequentially, even though my history teacher still refuses to believe that it is a word, I have decided to turn this into one of those posts where my dopamine literally just relies on the number of notes that I recieve. As promised, @the-red-planet-mars, the floor is yours you have been tagged.

Rules:

Please don't spam the comment section.

You can tag a maximum of 5 people.

Please don't spam reblog.

10 notes: I will actually plan my English homework so that I can then do it without having to ask for an extension. It is due on the day on which I have two of my Italian papers.

15 notes: I will update my 'Aeneid' notes so that my virtual document is up to date with the translations that we have done in class. I should technically also revise the themes and how Juno is portrayed, but we don't talk about that right now.

20 notes: If I haven't done this yet, I will create both a Spanish Quizlet with all the vocabulary I need to learn and I will create a Latin one for all the vocabulary from 'The Aeneid' that I need to know.

25 notes: I will plan, in English, different things that I could say for the picture for my French IGCSE oral. Also, this is a picture I will be using for my Spanish End of Years, so that is doubly helpful.

30 notes: I will do an Italian listening paper though I will listen to it at a faster speed than what is asked because otherwise I will literally get so bored and lose all will to live.

45 notes: I will finish researching Virgil and the historical context.

60 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 10 minutes each day for each language.

75 notes: I really need to do this. I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in Italian.

100 notes: I will do an Italian Writing practice paper. This is going to cause me so much suffering. Help me.

120 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my French IGCSE oral.

130 notes: I will make physics notes on energy.

140 notes: I will make notes on quantitative chemistry.

150 notes: I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in French.

155 notes: I will watch the AQA videos on the Cold War and make notes on them.

170 notes: I will do a practice Spanish listening paper.

200 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 30 minutes each day for each language, including a written vocabulary test.

230 notes: I will do a practice Spanish reading and writing paper.

250 notes: I will do a practice Latin translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.

270 notes: I will do a practice Greek translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.

300 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Crime and Punishment.

350 notes: I finish my Biology notes on reproduction.

380 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Religion and Life.

430 notes: I will look through my history notes on Germany and finish them in accordance to the AQA book.

520 notes: I will do a practice Greek language paper.

530 notes: I will do a practice Latin language paper.

605 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my Spanish End of Year oral.

720 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Buddhism.

850 notes: I will make full notes on the Cold War.

Honestly, if you have even bothered to read through all of these, you have absolutely earned more respect that I thought I was capable of giving to a single human being. I technically have a lot more things I should do, including re-reading Things Fall Apart and actually making complete maths notes, as well as notes for the sciences, but I doubt I will never get this many tags anyway.

Edit: It has been five minutes and I already got 14 notes. I am actually terrified of this site. What in Tartarus? Y'all are crazy and I love you so much.

[qc-wiggles]

they say write what you know and what i know is academic stress and yearbook pain. so anyways it's a yearbook club au!!!!

YEARBOOK CLUB MEMBERS:

supervising teachers: gertrude and leitner. they become uncontactable like a week into the project (do they die? do they resign? tim has a running theory that they eloped.)

elias: head of yearbook club. dips unexpectedly in the middle of the entire thing (something about an optical surgery) and forces jon to take over. his dad paid for the adobe subscription they’re using 

rosie: treasurer, she’s very efficient, they’ve probably exchanged like 3 emails in total and she’s gotten everything funded. knows well enough to stay out of the dumpster fire that is yearbook production otherwise

jon: de facto head of yearbook club. thinks it should have gone to sasha instead. hes a bit incompetent but plans like it’s doomsday the next week so they are always in a wealth of excel sheets. writer, editor

tim: joined partly because he wanted an excuse to get out of football fixtures. also because he is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked him. he has a tiktok. marketing, editor

sasha: joined partly to impress gertrude (she’s looking for her to write her letter of recommendation as head girl in sixth form). also because she is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked her. she still uses livejournal. designer, writer

gerry: sixth form, occasionally helps out with networking at gertrude’s behest. tim is a bit starstruck over him. he saves their asses many, many times

melanie and georgie: got unofficially roped in as photographers. why you ask? manuela dominguez may have the cutting edge cameras but she is simply too scary to approach. melanie has a youtube channel that all the girls and tim are apparently subscribed to. 

martin: there is not one single picture of him. apparently he didn’t turn up for photo day, neither was he involved in any school events. even the people who have shared half-remembered facts about him seem to forget about him when questioned a second time. where did he go?

PLOT:

it’s the month before the yearbook is due to be sent in for production, and the team have discovered numerous issues with the draft: pictures of random people keep getting swapped over like they’ve been photoshopped, some pages are illegible and distorted unless they are physically written out in hand and scanned, one paragraph is a leitner. and nobody can find martin blackwood so they can get his picture in the yearbook. what will they do.

SIDE CHARACTERS:

annabelle cane: current head girl

mikaele salesa: somehow knows literally everyone, involved in the funding of yearbook production

mike crew: uneasy alliance with gerry in their pursuit of jurgen leitner 

oliver banks: had a mental breakdown sometime during his gcses but hes fine now

david from research: nobody says it to his face but he has genuinely the most atrocious clothing choice in the entire school apart from michael shelley, and even then michael shelley makes work

grifter’s bone: the band of the school, except no one actually knows anyone who’s part of it. their shows are legendarily terrible. manuela says ambulances were phoned. 

daisy and basira: prefects, currently invested in making sure yearbook club remains LEGAL and not STALKING ANY STAFF OR STUDENTS, JON

jmag: principal. boo. what a creep

julia montauk: apparently her dad went to jail. but who is she living with now? i don’t know, manuela told me. how does manuela know? julia told her in a sleepover during year 6. and she’s telling other people? wow. that’s messed up. is that old guy her grandpa? why does he carry a rifle around

jared hopworth: prejudiced gymbro, but importantly, NOT a homophobe.

the admiral: what else needs to be said

FAMOUS ALUMNI:

agnes montague (campus celebrity from literally decades ago) (her relationship with jack barnabas is mythicised)

jude perry (allegedly caused some fire-related, agnes-related events)

edwin burroughs (allegedly commited atrocities during one year’s christmas dinner)

jane prentiss (left for uni a year ago, allegedly brought many live organisms onto campus) (keeps talking about this guy called jordan)

eric delano (he did WHAT to his eyes)

MISCELLANEOUS POINTS:

daedalus crew is astronomy club

breekon and hope are the manufacturers for much of the schools equipment and stationery

jon keeps finding notes from gertrude stashed in random places about yearbook difficulties its like a fun cool treasure hunt

they cant figure out where a computer they were initially using for yearbook club is from. it says ‘ushanka’ on the bottom of the display and the keys are slightly crusty

what the hell are the drama students actually up to 

[eastwindmlk]

That little nudge helped loads! Here we are with the august @jilychallenge

My partner is the lovely @aeligsido

Our prompt:

“I’m a Disney face character and you’re my canon movie counterpart but the mutual attraction is real and it’s becoming harder and harder not to call you by your real name instead of stage name.

There are 3k of Disney fluff under the cut!

As many a morning James and Sirius strolled into the crew area arm in arm, laughing back and forth about something the other had said. Both cast a glance at their lockers, only to find that they, in fact, did not pick up wardrobe yesterday.

“So, any idea what we’re up to today?” Sirius asked, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth while the pair of them tried to figure out where their assignments would take them for the morning.

James made a questioning sound in the back of his throat trying to recall his schedule for the day and drawing a blank. “I think I am in Magic Kingdom today. But… Yeah, no. That is all I got,” he answered eventually. The two of them impatiently waited to look at the shift roster on the wall.

Sirius shouldered him out of the way, just as they got to it. His fingers walked down the list of names. “Fucking shitballs, I’m up for Gaston, again,” he complained.

James snorted, schooling his features into a mask of mock seriousness. “Padfoot, not in front of the mouse!” he scolded, his head jerking to Peter passing by, the giant mouse head in his arms. The three of them locked eyes for one long, silent moment before dissolving into side-splitting giggles and a firm back slap from Remus, who passed looking awfully comfortable in his steward gear.

The four of them met at the summer selection program and later moved into a flat together, where they split the outrageous Paris rent into a more comfortable number. It was nice having friends at the job when the days were long and more physically demanding than he had ever imagined they could be.

“I…” James turned his attention back to the stained printout, following the slightly faded ink of the perpetually low ink printer to his name. “Eric!” He finally concluded, rather relieved to not be stuck in something too warm. The heat had been stifling the past few days and Kristoff had been absolute murder. By the time he was backstage he practically had to peel the costume off his body. His under layer completely drenched.

He was utterly and completely content with his assignment when Sirius had to go and ruin it all. “Who is your redhead?” The phrasing was deliberate and not appreciated, the eyebrow wriggle was downright insulting.

James made very sure that his mate knew just how he felt about his question by mustering his sharpest, most unimpressed look. Which was mostly inspired by his GCSE English teacher, who did not share the same fondness for exploring the boundaries of creative, yet school-appropriate, smartassery. “I know what you’re trying to make me say,” he pointed out tiredly as he scanned the list once more. Looking at the character names, his fingers slowly follow the line marked ‘Ariel’ back to the names, praying that it is literally anyone but-

“Lily Evans,” he groans, his shoulders sagging as he resigns himself to a shift of psychological torment and a night of relentless teasing. “Fuck me.”

Which earned him two very distinct responses simultaneously.

“Not in front of the mouse!” From Remus.

“It would be about fucking time.” From Peter, who was the only one that withered at Remus’ glare. - It simply did not hold the same sort of heat that the other two were used to. Private school privileges, they’d once called it.

Sirius draped an arm over his shoulder, making use of the half an inch height difference. - they’d measured – his silver eyes glancing around as a smile curled onto his lips. “If you need a moment to… relieve yourself before your shift, I’ll collect wardrobe,” he teased with a wink, earning himself a firm elbow in the ribs, which did nothing to stop him from laughing loudly at his friend’s predicament.

“Very funny,” James repined, his hand jumping to his hair, trying to smooth out the frizz, inwardly cursing the humidity for making it untameable. Well, more untameable than it usually was. “She just…”

There was a collective groan. Remus ducked out with just awkward finger guns to announce his departure. “Yeah, I need to get to Studios, Kingsley is always early. So… imma dip too,” Peter announced, glancing down at the head his his arms before hurrying off.

James peered after them a slight hurt look fading in his eyes, his lips pressing together into a thin line. “I think I scared them off,” he said with a disappointed huff.

Sirius just nodded slowly, placing a wet kiss on his cheek. “You’ve been mooning pretty hardcore over Evans the past few weeks.” This information was new to James, who had been certain that he had contained himself. He knew for a fact that he more than once, or twenty times, stopped himself from mentioning her.

He pushed his hand under his glasses and groaned. “I am such a goner, am I not?”

“That is not the word I’d have chosen, but yet.”

“What-”

“Canard.”

James peered out from over his hand with a deadly glare which only resulted in Sirius shuddering dramatically and grasping his chest for his amusement. “Maybe you make a point. I resent the point because I am not just blindly waddling after her, but I guess. Maybe. Have you seen her, though?”

Sirius’s tongue darted out of his mouth the way it always did when he was stalling and he did not have the patience for it today. “Just spit it out!” James grumbled, letting out a sharp breath before adding a reluctant “Please.”

“Well, she is lovely. I really cannot disagree with you there,” Sirius started and James could just feel a ‘but’ coming up. He sunk his hands into his pockets, waiting for his friend’s judgement. Trying to look as casual as he could as he strolled alongside him. “However,” -There it was. - “You’ve been down bad and she’s clearly not reciprocating your advances. We’re worried.”

James’ eyebrows slid upward in surprise. “There is a ‘we’?”

Sirius nodded, shoulders putting up nonchalantly. “Basically just the gang. Since we’re subjected to your endless lionising-”

“Lionising? Nice one, Pads,” he interjected, offering a half-mocking, half-exparated look.

“-Merci, anyway. Your endless lionising over this, albeit, lovely woman that does not even give you the bloody time of day. Is she still ignoring that drink's invitation?” James laughed, a single, awkward bark as his hand jumped to his hair and his lips pressed together into a slightly pained smile. “Yeah…” he started to say, his eyes not quite meeting his friend’s when he rushed through the rest of that answer. “That might be because I never actually sent that text.”

He met Sirius’s glare with an apologetic grin and let his shoulders sag when Sirius groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I suppose that does the trick. Just so you know, I turned down tickets to a really good cabaret singer in solidarity and I am miffed, maybe even a little peeved”

This time. James did actually shrink away from him, genuinely feeling bad for not actually having worked up the nerve to ask her out. “I did ask her in person, sort of,” he said, his tone doubtful.

“Care to define ‘sort of’?”

James pushed his tongue against the back of his teeth for a moment, clicking his tongue as he nodded slowly. The more he considered it, the stupider it sounded. But Sirius was not the type to let this go. So, he kept his eyes on his shoes. Scuffing his converse on the linoleum floor of the backstage while admitted. “I asked her, in passing, if she wanted to come for drinks,” he muttered, risking a glance up at Sirius. “She…uh. Asked for a rain cheque because she had a jujitsu class.”

Sirius’ expression went from expecting to unamused. “So, you asked again, right?” His head tilted forward, wordlessly pressing the question. “Right?” Sirius repeated, this time a little louder and a little firmer.

“Right…” James repeated his voice sliding through half an octave, which should be telling enough. And sure enough, he could hear the impact of his friend’s palm against his forehead and the frustrated exhale.

They fell silent for a moment, the only sound between them was the sliding of metal hangers of the clothes rack, trying to find their costumes for the day. The tension mounted while garment bags were pulled and styrofoam heads with wigs were clamped under arms.

“It’s not like I intended to never ask again, but she also didn’t bring it up herself either.” James continued their conversation once they were out of earshot of the biggest gossip on property. Rita, their dedicated wardrobe attendant and custodian of their personnel paper. Which was gossip disguised as noteworthy crew news.

They knew better than to give her even the smallest of sound bites if they wanted her to stay out of their business.

“Look, mate. I know that she makes you nervous-”

“-Terrified, really.”

“Alright, terrified then. That has never stopped you from doing anything before. Still doesn’t-” Sirius paused to give a warning to James not to interrupt as they sat down at their stations. “So, why can’t you relocate some of that courage to ask out a girl who is actually into you.”

James’ eyes narrowed for a moment, trying to gauge how much of Sirius’s words were bullshit. Or rather, encouragement. He did not really see the difference in this case. Before heaving a dramatic sigh. “You can’t know that,” he accused, his voice nothing more than a mutter.

Sirius leaned over, an arm wrapping around his shoulders as he squeezed him close. “James, my dear, clueless friend. I know. I have been her prince too. She sure as hell does not look at me that way.” His shoulder received a shove and when James looked at Sirius again his back was turned, silver eyes gazing over his shoulder. “Now, be a darling and braid my hair?”

His fingers combed through the silky, black locks while he twisted them together in a tight plait. “Are you sure it is affection though? Because watery eyes might just be… allergies? I think she mentioned grass pollen at some point.” James was sure that if he had not had Sirius’s hair in his hands, his friend might have turned around to glare at him.

“She’s into you, I promise!” Sirius vowed while he wound the elastic around the end. Letting it drop between his shoulder blades for Sirius to pin it in place. “Just try it!”

James trusted his best mate, of course, he did. He just could not help but wonder, what if he was wrong? What if it was really just allergies or acting and what if she didn’t really have a jujitsu class? She could just as well have been avoiding him and that is why she never asked again. Clearly, she had no issues asking people if she’d asked Sirius to a show.

Now that he thought about it, maybe she liked Sirius. Which was when he started to spiral. Or spiral worse than he had. Or worse.

By the time that Sirius' flick to the forehead snapped him out of his thoughts, he was fully convinced that she had severe allergies, her main one being a severe aversion to one James Potter. But she humoured him because she was actually in love with his best mate.

“Oi! James protested, rubbing at the spot before shooting Sirius a half-hearted glare which his friend returned with such vigour it made unease crawl down his spine. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Then don’t think stupid things,” Sirius shot back instantly, making James bristle indignantly. How could he even know what he thinking? As if he could hear him, Sirius answered that question too. “Because you’re my best mate.” His expression softened and a hand gripped his shoulder reassuringly. “It is also written all over your face.”

At that James made an attempt at composing his face and wondered if there was any point to it. Sirius just had a way of knowing. Fixing the mark Sirius’s reprimand had made in his make-up, James contemplated. Doing his best to actually consider his friends’ opinions instead of letting himself be tempted by the spiral.

He was fixing the wig, plucking at the synthetic strands to have it sit just right when James finally gave in. “ Fine, I’ll ask her the moment we get backstage, okay? One last try.” It couldn’t hurt, right? His fingers ran nervously along the collar of his shirt, his eyes closing while he took a moment to really feel the character. Mentally preparing himself before the mere sight of his princess would render him completely useless.

“Break a leg!” Sirius encouraged him. From behind his hands grasped him firmly by the shoulders and steered him out of the door to where he knew they would be meeting. His heart thumping against his ribs, his entire body tingling with excitement. Or maybe it was nerves/ He could never really tell.

Regardless of how unhealthy it might be, the sensation was exhilarating. Just what he needed to get him pumped for hours of smiling and interacting with guests. He often joked that this feeling must be the magic of the mouse. Usually, when he said this, his friends would call him a dork. They weren’t wrong.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a swish of sea foam green, a cascade of copper curls and his heart skipped. She was beautiful, she always was. But he could not help but resent the costume. The make-up covered up the light dusting of freckles along her nose. The wig could never quite capture the charm of her natural auburn locks.

His princess was beautiful, but the woman underneath outshone her a thousandfold.

“Lovely of you to show up,” Lily told him teasingly, fluttering her lashes at him. “Ready, my prince?”

James drew in a deep, steadying breath and offered Lily his arm with a brilliant smile. “For you, my princess, any time,” he replied, glad to hear his voice was steady as they walked down the tunnel that would lead them right to the gates of The Magic Kingdom. All the while listening to the easy chatter between her and Sirius.

Normally he would mix himself in, and join the conversation. But normally he was also not working up the courage to ask Lily out. Actually, ask her out this time. No hiding behind after-work drinks or casual hang-outs.

Even though Sirius insisted that Lily liked him, he couldn’t help but wonder if Sirius was just as blind. The way she smiled at him just felt flirtatious and she had asked him on a date. The final nail in the coffin was the way Lily blew him a kiss before they parted ways.

Without Sirius there to stop him from overthinking this, all James could do was focus on the work. Not on the words that spun in his head. ‘Pick me, choose me, love me.’ But he wasn’t some medical drama heroine. He was just… Him. Chances were that he would sound creepy rather than romantic.

The words spun in his head until only the last two remained and every time he looked at her they bubbled up to the tip of his tongue where he had to force them back. Now was not the time or the place. Not to ask her out and certainly not to shout ‘love me!’ at her.

He doubted that it would ever be the right time to do that. Shouting his feelings off the rooftops might just need to stay proverbial.

James was glad for the busy day, with lines of people waiting to meet them. Priding himself on making people blush and fluster as they posed and chatted. Only occasionally falling silent when he would catch a glimpse of Lily, ethereal and charming while she mentioned fins and dinglehoppers. Hugging crying, snotty little boys and girls with the grace of a princess.

It was in one of these moments that someone caught him looking. A boy, maybe twelve, not that he could tell anymore. For all that he knew this boy could be anywhere between eight and seventeen. Regardless, this one was observant. “Are you in love with her?” he asked and completely took James by surprise.

For just a moment, he fell completely out of his role. Hazel eyes lingered on the captivating form of Lily, looking angelic while she pushed her curls over her shoulder. “Very much,” he breathed, a longing smile on his lips. “Lil- She is my princess, after all. I couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.”

His eyes landed back on the boy, who beamed at him. “Do you think everyone gets a princess?” The question coaxed a soft chuckle from his lips. James crouched down, placing a firm hand on his shoulder as he looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I think there is a princess, or prince, out there for everyone. As long as you are brave enough to go and find them,” he said resolutely and watched proudly as the boy nodded. “Just remember to be smarter than me, alright? When you find her, don’t let her go back to the ocean first. Sea witches are rather nasty business. Ask her.”

The boy nodded so eagerly, that James worried he might hurt his neck. “Alright then, you go ask the lovely lady with the mouse pin about the very special necklaces and pick one you think she’ll love.” James winked at him as he nudged the boy towards their steward for directions. Only caught a glimpse of him dragging an adult towards Main Street as the next person stepped forward.

For just a moment, James turned to look at Lily at the same time that she sought his eye. Her smile was almost shy, eyes darting away as if caught. In that moment, James wondered two things. One, if maybe Sirius could be right and two, how insufferable his friend would be when he was forced to admit that.

That was something to deal with later. After he finally asked his princess to the ball.

[cocoatonedcurls]

become an academic weapon 📚🔫✨

hi all !!

with my GCSEs this year, and only a few weeks before back to school, I decided to really lock in yesterday 🫣

so I thought I'd take all the info I've come across while scrolling through studytok and put it into a little post for everyone looking to improve in their studies (& for my benefit as well 🙈)

motivation

this is probably the biggest factor when it comes to locking into your studies, motivation can quite literally make or break your academic achievements (😦)

so, its very important you motivate yourself, and moreover, stay motivated 😭

i've made it sound daunting but motivating yourself is lowkey easier than you think, here's a few ways to do it:

picturing yourself in 10 years, where all your studying and hard work has paid off - you can't be that person without doing the work that they did 😬

you can also do the opposite of the above - imagine how disappointed you'll be if you didn't work as hard as you could have and failed

"revenge studying" - the most toxic yet probably the most widely effective technique - working hard so you can beat than the people who are better than you

make studying aesthetic - create pinterest boards, look at quotes and tiktoks, make success your greatest desire

make it an addiction - if you're bored? study. had a bad day? nothing like setting yourself up for the best future. having a great day? go make it better by making yourself smarter.

get a motivational study app - i LOVE 'Study Bunny' I've been using it for two days now and it genuinely motivates me to be more productive to keep my bunny happy 🙃

resources

obviously, you need some help where you can get it despite all the controversies surrounding studying and the use of the internet, there are some amazing online resources you can use that will actively help you 📚

Quizlet/Anki - both of these flashcard platforms are incredibly useful - Quizlet is a fun platform and you can search for flashcards made by other people - Anki, in my opinion, is better than Quizlet for memorising, and you can import flashcards from Quizlet.

Mindnote - A mindmap making software online, a user-friendly interface + is quick and easy to make them - Great for visual learners

YouTube - the teachers on YouTube are incredibly helpful and can explain any topics you're confused about very quickly and very thoroughly

Spark Notes - great for English literature, with in-depth analysis of your texts and modern translations

Physics & Maths Tutor - free past papers and topic questions for core subjects and a few others, great for active recall

Study Bunny/Flora - helps keep track of your progress and keeps you motivated, I recommend Study Bunny because I can see how much work I've done of each subject and tick off things on my checklist

these are just a few out of many other resources so go do some of your own research, especially if there are websites that help with a specific subject

techniques

different study techniques work best for different people, no technique is a one-size-fits-all, some people are visual learners, others perform best by memorising & etc.

active recall - the only one-size-fits-all method - is a cognitive function that you carry out to remember things in tests, so practising this is a must -> the best way to do this is by completing topic questions and past papers using minimal amounts of notes. basically just testing yourself before the actual test

Spaced-out revision - one of the best ways to make sure things stick in your mind, revise a topic/subject and revisit it every few days, eg. 1, 3, 5, 9, 15, 30; and by the 30-day mark it should be stuck in your mind because your brain believes its something that you need to know in the long run and stores it in your long term memory

Flashcards - great to memorise content for the test, especially subjects that are tested with orals

Scribble method - scribbling on a piece of paper while revising the content in any form, reading, listening, etc. helps your brain store the information you're consuming more effectively

Feynman method - basically just explaining the topic you're revising to someone, this helps you develop your understanding and catches out any areas you're unsure about to revise later

making mindmaps - this is great for visual learners, especially if you use different colours for each section of the map so that you can associate each concept with each colour and recall them easily

again, those are just a few that come to mind. do your own research and find out what works best for you 😇

while studying

knowing how to study effectively is also a crucial aspect of success (obviously) 🤭

here are a few tips:

don't listen to music with lyrics, instead you can listen to lofi tracks, cafe/library asmr, brown noise, jazz music (my favourite)

set yourself a study slot, like 2 hours every day at a specific time & set a focus filter on your phone for the duration of your study time

make an aesthetic/cute study space so you can enjoy your time in that space and it doesn't feel like a chore

get a whiteboard to make learning more interactive & fun

light a specific candle whenever you're studying so your brain knows to associate the scent with working

have regular breaks eg. every half hour for 5-10 mins

reward yourself afterwards, so you associate studying with a good experience

consistency is key, the more you study the easier & more fun it becomes 🙃 the more you study the more you are likely to succeed and fulfil your dreams ✨

remember though, academics is not everyone's thing:

"you cannot judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree"

everyone is good at something, and it doesn't make anyone lesser or greater 🫶

if you try your best, that is all that matters 🫠

- li 🌘

[tf2-bhs]

Meet Jane Doe.

The one unidentified body of the cyclone roller coaster incident

The most patriotic student in the whole of MANN High school and sixth form. This year 10 student is the most loudmouthed and excitable person in the whole school (being lead poisoned does that to a person.) Like most students involved with the 'Team Fortress', he was given the affection nickname of "Soldier" regarding to him being an army cadet outiside of school.

This student is often seen getting into fights with almost anyone that he can, including faculty members. His latest fight resulted in the music teacher (Mr. Jones) being fired, and injured. This was unfortunately in view of the public, as it was open evening at MANN High school and sixth form. Luckily for Jane, a sixth former, who goes by her last name of 'Pauling', managed to sneak him out of there, meaning he didn't get in trouble.

GCSES:

Trilogy Science

Spanish

History

Physical Education

Food Technology

Relationships:

Jeremy 'Scout' Sullivan: Quite good friends, but can often get in fights which Jane starts and Jeremy continues (and lose).

?? 'Pyro' ??: Neither of the pair talk to each other much (Mainly due to the fact that Jane doesn't know ASL), however Dell mentions that 'Pyro' would like to become better friends with Jane.

Tavish 'Demo' Degroot: Close as close can get, two of the greatest friends you will ever find, with a shared affinity for explosions

Mikhail 'Heavy' Ivanov: He was on relatively friendly terms, until the whole dating his younger sister fiasco. But after a short while, Mikhail came to terms with it, and they returned to those relatively friendly terms.

Dell 'Engineer' Conagher: They would talk sometimes before the six weeks, but when Dell disappeared they obviously drifted apart.

Ludwig 'Doc' Koch: They had had some good chats especially during times when Ludwig was patching up Jane after one of his (many) fights

Mun-dee 'Sniper' Mundy: They haven't had many interactions however that's only because Mun-dee has only joined the friend group recently, but the one chat they've had has been positive

?? 'Spy' ??: Spy cannot stand Jane, but Jane insists that the pair of them are friends. The pair of these two has gotten into at least one fight per year.

?? Pauling: You wouldn't expect it, but this pair are close, not as close as Jane and Travish, but still quite close.

Merasmus Madigan: Similar to him and 'Spy' Jane thinks that they’re best friends, even though Merasmus cannot stand him. Jane was the one to start the Merasmus is a wizard thing, because he genuinely believed that Merasmus was a wizard.

Zhanna Ivanova: She and Jane are the purest form of love, meeting each other one second and then immediately dating the next. True soulmates.

[changedmyminditsnicehere]

I finally wrote and posted the rugby smut on AO3 and then was promptly so busy I did not have the time to sit down and put it on tumblr, even though I wrote it for tumblr. Anyway, I have successfully written 3k of mostly meandering about the logistics of post-team-sports showers and a little bit of sex. It's my first ever time trying to write something smutty so please be gentle with me

Inspired by @softest-punk and @janimoon, and their genius thinking on rugby shorts and Hob's thighs, thank you and I hope you don't mind me tagging you!

EDIT: Here's the AO3 link as well!

====

People assumed that, given his fashion and career choices, Morpheus was a chaotically artistic person. The opposite could not have been more true. At all times, Morpheus was meticulously considering and planning how he might respond to any potential situations that might arise. That these situations and his responses might not be what the average person planned for was not his problem. 

However, Gods alone knew how, he had neglected to prepare for his current position. As situations went, it was far from the most complex he had ever considered; nothing quite so difficult as the corners he had written himself out, or dilemmas he had put down on the page which had made many of his readers take to social media to yell at him directly.  It was not that it was even that unusual a situation. If he was being honest with himself, Morpheus had fantasised, repeatedly, about this exact moment for approximately five years, so in truth he could blame nobody but himself for failing to come up with a concrete plan of action.

The situation was thus: Hob had returned from rugby practice. Had returned, having forsaken the communal showers in the club building in favour of his own private shower.

This was not a new state of affairs. It had in fact happened nearly every week for their entire acquaintance. This was, however, the first week that such an event had taken place and Morpheus had had permission, nay, even encouragement to look. And not just to look, but to touch. There was indeed such a wealth of possible actions that Morpheus found himself instead frozen, unable to run through any single plan and its potential pathways before Hob’s continued presence in front of him wiped it from his mind.

Hob was still flushed from exertion, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat. He was breathing heavily from the training and the speed of his walk home. The park was barely two minutes away from their flat. It was the whole reason they had taken the place, though combining a trainee teacher salary and a book deal to cover the rent had been a difficult decision. At the time, Morpheus had struggled over whether the pleasance of the accommodation, and the chance to make Hob happy, was worth the extra money. He was now considering every penny of it considerably well spent. Hob bent to take off his trainers, shirt rising up as he crouched, and a droplet of sweat ran down the narrow of his back. Morpheus was now convinced he had never spent money better.

Hob loved rugby, its focus on strength and speed and physicality, in comparison to the ‘tricksy’ footwork Hob stated was required in football. A blunt force object, he always called himself laughing. Morpheus, having not participated in a team sport since it was no longer a GCSE requirement, could not possibly have commented. 

Morpheus loved rugby for another reason. A reason he was currently looking at. Rugby shorts are… short. Very short. And Hob's arse was breath-taking. It needed no real assistance to be so. Hob looked good in even the most unflattering trousers he refused to throw out because they were not yet utterly inappropriate in public and thus ‘perfectly fine, don’t be precious’. Clad in tight, white shorts, well, Morpheus could write odes to Hob's arse, to its roundness, the way he could see his muscles shifting as Hob moved from unlacing one shoe to the other, how the fabric seemed to cup his arse cheeks in a way that made Morpheus’ palms itch to do the same.

As Hob moved to stand, spinning back towards Morpheus, Morpheus encountered a new problem. Though seeing Hob’s lovely smiling face, flushed with pleasure from a good training session would have been enough to sustain him for decades at any other moment, he was now discovering that the shorts were not only tight but also clearly made of an inferior fabric. In other words, slightly see through. Even once the fabric should have cut in, preventing Morpheus from ogling his flatmate (now boyfriend)’s crotch, the shorts left nothing to the imagination. Morpheus could count the individual hairs on Hob’s thighs.

Hob’s thighs have always been wider than his own. Though they were of a height, sharing trousers could only ever result in Morpheus looking like a toddler in baggy trousers, no matter how well they fit on Hob. Hob wasn't muscular in the permanently dehydrated way Hollywood movies seemed to think people ought to be, and Morpheus was eternally grateful. Rippling six-packs and full body waxing could never achieve the same level of delicious tactility that Morpheus had discovered during their occasional evenings of necking on the couch. Hob’s thighs were warm, plush, with enough weight for Morpheus to really sink his fingers into, to curve his hands around and pull them closer, could feel the roughness of his hair, wind his fingers into it, anchor himself closer and closer to Hob. That thick, dark hair was currently plastered with sweat into swirling patterns which Morpheus wanted to follow with his tongue. 

It slowly dawned on Morpheus that he had not yet greeted his boyfriend. That he had in fact been standing in complete silence, a mug of cooling tea in hand, gawking. He dragged his eyes up from Hob's thighs to his face, saw the laughter in his eyes and felt himself flush. 

Hob clearly felt no such bashfulness. He grinned at Morpheus, before spinning into what he clearly considered a comical pin-up pose, hips swivelled and arse pushed out, fluttering his eyelashes over his shoulder. Morpheus did not have enough blood going north to find it funny. Gathering the wits to place his mug down on the entrance table first, he found himself striding towards Hob, almost slamming into him as he reached up to tangle his fingers in Hob’s hair and kissed him so forcefully they overbalanced. Hob just caught himself with his arms against the wall. Morpheus barely cared, except for the way the force of it made Hob gasp and open his mouth so Morpheus could lick his way inside. He could feel the heat still coming off Hob’s body and the sweat still sticking through his hair and he wanted more. He wanted Hob sweaty and hot because of him, he wanted to feel the heat of Hob's skin against his own.

Before Hob had the chance to recover and enfold his unexpectedly passionate boyfriend in an embrace, Morpheus was moving. He folded, knees hitting the floor and hands sliding down Hob's body. He looked up at Hob, at his open face, the way his breath was already coming more roughly and smiled. He couldn’t help kissing the backs of Hob’s hands where they hung, still reaching for him. This was all still new. Daily, Morpheus was honoured and overwhelmed by the ease with which Hob reached out to touch him, with which he showed how much he wanted to be near him, to make him feel good. Morpheus wanted to return the favour, to touch Hob with the same confidence Hob touched him. 

He ran his hands up and down Hob’s thighs, delighting in the feeling of hair beneath his hands. He found himself distracted by the sensation of Hob’s wiry hair. Leaning in slowly and deliberately, he breathed in the scent of sweat and grass and Hob. He pushed closer, rubbing his face into the crotch of Hob’s shorts. He could feel the sweat still on Hob’s shorts gathered in the soft join between Hob’s body and his thigh, and found himself rubbing his face in harder, coating himself in that warm, cedar scent that always surrounded Hob. Hob stuttered out “Fuck, Morpheus. That’s a hell of a welcome my love...” 

Hob’s hand came down, cupping Morpheus’ cheek softly. Morpheus looked up through his eyelashes, soft smile turning devilish as he stuck his tongue out just a tiny bit, just to lick  at the crease of his thigh and groin where the scent was the strongest. Absently, he reached a bit further, licking a broad stroke across the growing bulge in Hob’s shorts. Hob jerked at the action, inadvertently crushing Morpheus’ face into his hardening cock.

Mouth still open, Morpheus shocked himself with how loudly he moaned, unexpectedly close just from the strength in Hob’s hand holding him there, trapped in the overwhelming feeling of Hob all around him, his scent, his taste. “Fuck, Morpheus. You liked that, didn’t you baby?” Hob panted. He twisted his grip carefully, holding the back of Morpheus’ head, and used his leverage to push Morpheus more directly into his crotch, rubbing his face directly over his cock as it hardened fully. Hob was gentle at first, keeping his hold light enough that Morpheus could easily jerk out. As Morpheus only whined louder he tightened his grip, smearing his crotch over Morpheus’ face. Morpheus felt his hips jerk without any conscious thought on his part. Hob widened his stance, bending one knee up so he could wedge a beautiful, muscular leg between Morpheus’ knees. Morpheus could only groan, keeping his mouth open, tongue out to taste the sweat and the area where Hob’s sweat mingled with a new dampness. 

Morpheus brought his hands back up, cupping Hob’s cock in his shorts before creeping his fingers up to Hob’s waistband. He pulled his shorts down slowly, nuzzling into hot skin as it was exposed. He somehow hadn’t calculated for the moment when Hob was fully freed and his cock sprung up, nearly slapping him in the face. Morpheus couldn’t help but pull back slightly, eyes darting up to Hob in shock, who looked briefly horrified before his face scrunched up, trying unsuccessfully to hold back giggles. Morpheus glared.

“Oh, don’t look like that duck.”, Hob said, doing a bad job of hiding the laughter in his voice. He brought a hand to Morpheus’s face again, rubbing a thumb against his lower lip where it pouted out in annoyance at his boyfriend’s refusal to be serious in the face of his attempt at seduction. “You just look so affronted.” Hob kept rubbing against Morpheus’ lip, but the amusement was being overtaken by a deeper heat. “You have to tell me if I do anything you don’t like, okay?” Morpheus nodded, the action making Hob pull his lower lip down more, thumb slipping into his mouth. “Good boy.” Hob sounded very out of breath. “If your mouth is too full to talk, tap my thigh? Okay?” Morpheus nodded again, trying to take Hob’s thumb into his mouth so he could suck at it properly. Hob nodded jerkily in response, visibly gathering himself. Morpheus sucked hard on Hob’s thumb and Hob let out another murmured swear.

He didn’t pull Morpheus back into his crotch right away, instead sliding his thumb back out of Morpheus mouth and using the other hand to drag his cock across Morpheus’ lower lip. Morpheus peeked his tongue out as the head of Hob’s cock passed across his lips, mouth falling open as he tasted Hob, warm and salty and promising. Hob cursed as he jerked forwards. His cock slid across Morpheus’ face, as he pushed Morpheus properly into his crotch, grinding his face into the warmest part of himself, where he smelt most strongly of himself. Morpheus took the opportunity to gather mouthfuls of Hob, sucking desperately on the soft warm skin, lathing his tongue against the hair as Hob rutted on his face and he rutted against Hob’s leg. 

“Fuck, Morpheus. So distracting.” Hob wrapped his fingers around Morpheus’ hair just as Morpheus got a good mouthful of flesh and sucked hard. Hob groaned. “One day. One day I should just keep you down there. See if you can get off on my leg while I hold you down, get you really dirty, covered in my sweat, my come.” Morpheus was beginning to wonder why they didn’t just switch do that. If the way he could feel himself shaking was anything to go by, it would be a very successful plan.

But Hob pulled him away, and he obligingly let go of his mouthful and looked up to Hob in anticipation. He had sucked Hob off before, but it hadn’t been like this. They had been in bed, after a long and careful discussion, and Hob had let Morpheus have complete control, holding Hob down by his hips and carefully licking along his length, both still cautious in the newness of their relationship. That had been soft, gentle, adoring. As Morpheus stared up at Hob, feeling the arousal of anticipation make his hips shudder nearly as much as the feeling of Hob’s strong shin against his crotch, he felt no less adored. Looking at the heat in Hob’s eyes, even as his hands carefully wound into his hair, he felt more than that, he felt exalted. He dropped his mouth open, tongue sticking out in readiness. 

Hob clenched his hands and pulled him forwards, feeding his cock into his mouth ever so slowly. He didn’t stop until Morpheus couldn’t breath, couldn’t focus on anything other than the sensation of Hob’s prick pressing against the back of his throat, the way his mouth watered, the stretch of his lips around Hob’s cock. He looked up, pushing his tongue up, feeling the warm flesh pulse in response. Hob smiled down at him, somehow beautiful even as new droplets of sweat gathered at his hairline and Morpheus could only scrunch his eyes up in response. Hob took a deep breath, “Okay, darling, I’m going to fuck your mouth now. Remember the signal if you need me to stop.” 

He pulled his hips back and snapped in. It was all Morpheus could do to hold himself up, cradled between Hob’s palms, and suck the occasional breath in when Hob pulled back. Saliva dribbled down his chin and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes. Hob kept up a stream of dirty talk even as he panted, clearly nearing his own edge. “Fuck. Look at you. On your knees for me. Covered in my sweat. Going to cover you in my come too, dirty you up. So pristine, you are, all the time. So together. God, who would think it, looking at you now. Filthy, filthy little slut you are. My slut. My darling.” 

Morpheus groaned around Hob’s cock. He could feel heat zinging down his spine, along his ribs. He wasn’t going to last. Hob groaned in response, curving over Morpheus. He was no longer pushing into Morpheus’s throat in long, steady strokes. His hips stuttered as he reached his climax and Morpheus gathered what was left of his wits, pushing his tongue up into Hob’s flesh in an attempt to coax him on. “Oh fuck, Morpheus, I’m going to come. I wanna, fuck, I want to come on your face.” Morpheus let out a whine so desperate he shocked even himself, though Hob managed to interpret it as agreement.

Hob pushed Morpheus down onto his cock one last time before pulling out, holding Morpheus’ back by his hair with one hand as he came, wiping his cock across Morpheus’s face, getting come in his hair, over his eyelids, his nose, his lips. He pushed his still pulsing cock back into Morpheus’ mouth and Morpheus suckled desperately as it let out a last few jets of saltiness. Morpheus’ hands fluttered to his own crotch, desperate for more pressure, body too overwhelmed to rut against Hob’s leg with the coordination he so desperately needed to come. He groaned as he curved his hand around his cock, able to feel how wet he was even through his jeans. 

“Go on darling, get your beautiful cock out for me.” Hob encouraged. Morpheus didn’t have to be told twice. He scrabbled with his fly, pulling his cock out and stripping it desperately as Hob held him by the hair, wiping his face across his crotch, rubbing his come into Morpheus’ skin. “Oh fuck, Morpheus.” Hob dropped to his knees and Morpheus whined at the loss of his warm safe space, hidden in Hob’s crotch. Hob was quick to silence him, diving into a kiss, uncaring of the come and sweat on Morpheus’ face, pushing him down onto the floor and taking over from Morpheus’ uncoordinated hand, pulling his cock roughly. “Come on, my beautiful dream, I want to hear you scream when you come, I want you to get us both dirty.” He stroked Morpheus quickly, roughly and suddenly Morpheus was coming, breathy ahs becoming something like a scream, heat thundering through him as he came all over Hob’s hand and his own t-shirt.

Hob collapsed onto the floor next to him, rolling him on top of himself, uncaring of the come now dirtying both their shirts. Morpheus found the energy to tuck his nose into Hob’s neck, sniffling with the force of his orgasm. Hob stroked his back and murmured low, comforting things. “There you go, there you go dear, my darling.” Morpheus huffed deep breaths of Hob, slowly coming back to himself with the scent of Hob’s cologne and sweat, old and new. His body felt exhausted and his mouth felt used, stretched and salty with the taste of come and, he realised with embarrassment, tears. “Fuck, Morpheus”, Hob pulled him tighter into himself, holding his head into his neck and stroking his back more firmly as he shivered. He fought to control his breathing. "Are you okay? You'd let me know if I did anything you didn’t like, wouldn't you?"

“I am. Okay. That was… a lot.” He croaked, flushing as he realised how clearly his voice bore the marks of what they’ve just done, then flushing further at how ridiculous it feels to be embarrassed by that, as he lies there, cock out, on top of his boyfriend in their hallway, covered in come and sweat and tears. The sudden jolt of arousal was almost painful and only just ignominious.

“A good a lot?” Hob prompted, sounding more unsure than Morpheus thought he had any right to given Morpheus's aforementioned state.

"Mmm. Very good a lot."

"I'm glad. I hope I wasn't too rough. I just, god, the way you look on your knees Morpheus. Makes me want to dirty you up. Make you mine."

Morpheus could not possibly get hard again, and he focused on telling his cock this, firmly.

"I wanted that. Wanted to be covered in you. To make you dirty with me."

"Fuck, Morpheus. I cannot get it up again right now."

Hob sounded like he was in genuine pain. Morpheus snickered into his neck.

"When you came in from rugby, you were… very attractive to me."

"I was a sweaty mess my love."

"Yes.  You were. I liked it. I wanted you to be like that for me. Because of me. I wanted to feel your sweat on my skin, to hear you pant because of me. To know that I was the reason you were so well… exercised. I wanted to taste your sweat, to know what it would feel like to be surrounded by you."

"Fucking hell, you absolute menace." Hob thunked his head on the ground, hips jolting just once. They lay together in silence for a little while longer. 

Just as Morpheus was beginning to consider suggesting they moved, as much because of the feeling of the cooling kitchen air on his exposed cock as because of his consideration for Hob's joints, Hob perked his head up.

"You should come watch me play, next time. See me in action. I think I could put on a good show for you. And.. " he trailed off, eyes sparkling.

"And?" Morpheus prompted. Hob looked far too pleased with himself.

"And, I know where they keep the keys for the locker rooms after."