#sorry this is Literally my field of study from undergrad

[janeways-coffees]

So I actually work in this field (Laser Ablation ICP-MS my beloved) and while this is deeply troubling, only some of the pods studied had insane levels of Lead. This is (like a lot of commericial toxicology studies) a way to highlight a lack of quality control and how different contamination will vary incredibly across different brands. Like yes obviously vaping things with lead in them will be bad for you (as will the antimony and nickel risks the paper discusses)

For example

(Fig 5 from Salazar et al 2025)

We see that the Esco Bar brands tended to have higher levels of antimony than Elf brands, and higher levels of led. But they all had relatively high levels of nickel.

I guess the point I want to make is that these studies get sensationalized into "dont ever vape" when in reality the point of a lot of this research is "we need to fucking regulate and study e-cigs before they hit the market". And that a study like this is often key in that regulation. People will always vape or smoke in some way. Science like this is determining how legislation can make it safer.

Awesome that we brought back mass lead poisoning. Everything that’s old is new again.

[sleepymccoy]

Hi! This might be a bit out of the blue but I saw that you work as a dementia specialist and I was really curious about how people get into that job? I'm an (Australian) undergrad psych student and I also work in aged care (home care mostly doing cleaning) so I've worked with people with dementia before and it's a field I could definitely find myself interested in. Hope you don't mind me asking!

Yeah all good! Sorry it's taken a little while to respond

I have a master's degree in dementia, but not many of my colleagues do so it's def not required. I'm not a clinical specialist, and I want to keep my job role a bit vague publicly since it's pretty unique tbh. But yeah, my office has a mix of nurses, people who managed aged care homes, physios and other specialists who got involved in dementia specifically and stepped into this company

In terms of getting a job, I literally applied on seek. So, they advertise. There's three main companies to look for, and you can just go on their website if you want to keep the research pretty limited

Dementia Australia has an expression of interest thing, so if you want to work for them but don't know what role would suit you you can just tell them that. They do a lot of lobbying, helping people recently diagnosed with dementia to access supports, and research

Dementia Support Australia is the behavioral support people, they go to care homes and try to improve things on a resident by resident level. They also have a 24/7 helpline that I hear is good

Dementia Training Australia do research and education in a lot of forms. They have people who go out to homes to educate, they run classes, they run conferences

In terms of getting job experience, you'll have an easier time convincing people you know what you're doing if you've cared for someone living with dementia. That can be in a hospital setting or care home or in community. Under grad in psych, I'd be looking at the geri psych units near you and seeing if you can get involved there. Geri psych is pretty full on, it's where the people the care home can't manage go. You usually see a lot more chemical restraint than in the rest of the aged care sector, but it might have an open door for you with your psych study

I did my masters through UTAS, they offer dementia study at diploma, bachelor, or masters level. You might be able to slip in one of the neurobiology of dementia subjects from utas as part of your current study, depending on how well it all blends together. Otherwise, I recommend the Wicking Centre's MOOC on understanding dementia to everyone. It's free, it's aimed at nok, but has good info

Oh yeah, if you happen to live in Tasmania the wicking is also a good place to work. Ground breaking research and solid state wide support services

Anyway good luck!!! If you want to talk specifics DM me ❤️

[redfacedpalindrome]

i think it's so cool that you're a biology researcher! if i may ask, how did you find yourself in that path and how did you know you wanted to go to med school? i'm not in college yet but i've been considering the possibility of clinical practice in the future but i am not too sure 🥹

hi!! omg that's so exciting i remember trying to figure it out as well. this is LONG because i have a lot of advice so i am vv sorry in advance!

so i spent most of my time in high school thinking i was going to be an engineer. i'm talking 4 courses of physics, multivariable calculus and self-taught diffEq, statistics, more calculus, two years of computer science, and I did a physics program at Fermi Lab. I was always interested in biology and medicine though, so in my head the best overlap was going to be biomedical engineering.

but when i started actually applying to biomedical engineering programs, i started to realize that if i went into bme, i'd end up just inches away from the job i actually wanted. like, i'd be developing the tools but i wanted to be at the physician-patient interface. and that kind of made up my mind for me, that i at least wanted to try to be in medicine.

so i hail mary'd and i applied to a direct-med program-

(sidebar, i don't actually know if this has come up so much as it has been sign-posted by my linguistic preferences but i'm american and studying medicine in america is one triple mega xl shitshow. in a direct-med program, rather than applying to undergrad, finishing, maybe taking gap years to build a cv?, and applying out to medical schools, then residency + fellowship which is a grand total of like 1 trillion years, you apply to med school and undergrad at the end of high school and then you kinda have a conditional admission to med school as long as you complete the pre-med requirements and it shortens the process to a conservative 0.8 trillion years.)

i've done an unfortunate job here of making this process seem horrible, but i will say two things: this process is long and difficult. you know what the interesting thing is though? life is usually both long and difficult. there are easier ways to make money, there will always be easier ways to make money – but if you love medicine and you love biology, the fulfillment you will have practically every day as you make your way through this process outweighs everything. i have spent twelve hour days in lab, come in on weekends, left at ungodly late hours all for minimum wage and felt blinding satisfaction that is rare to find in a lot of roles. and i've heard similar things from a lot of my friends. i will never pretend it's easy, but something being hard doesn't make it not FUN.

-and i got in! even then, i wasn't sure if locking myself into a med program was the best idea since literally months before that i was so committed to engineering. but i knew that if i put myself into that program, i would come out the other end a physician and i wouldn't regret it. and honestly, i'm extremely grateful for this because it surrounded me with a cohort of peers who all delusionally committed to medicine at the age of 17. they're the best :) and they were the biggest influences on my love for my intended career.

if you're from literally any other country (most do medical education differently), it will be a little bit of a different experience but i think broadly surrounding yourself with peers who can encourage you and inspire you to find ways to be fulfilled within the healthcare field and help you not second guess your decision is super important. i also think if you're interested in maybe being in clinical practice, taking a look at studying medical humanities (bioethics, medical sociology, health policy, the history of medicine) could also be an interesting exploration because it will get you in touch with both the art and science of medicine. the humanistic components are understudied by a lot of aspiring physicians but if you root your passions there i swear you never lose it.

when it comes to medical/biological science (and my now position as a vascular biology researcher), i started with bench science research in undergrad! i cold emailed a bunch of principal investigators to find if they had room for an undergraduate research assistant, and i found a lab that studies blood vessel growth and became insanely attached to the subject matter. i get to do a cool combination of hands-on science and data analysis, and they give me a lot of room to take charge of the project and present its findings.

i always thought i'd wanna do research 'curing' something, like research that specifically impacts a disease. my research, however, is basic science research – so i'm basically trying to figure out how a set of genes work and what they do because we don't know it yet! i never thought i'd fall in love with this project but i did! so my advice on research is to reach out to whoever you can, try to find good mentors, and keep on open mind. you never ever know what you'll end up with a passion for.

let me know if there are any other questions i can answer! but you're early in the process yet – you have a lot of time to explore :) i'm not sure all of this was actually useful advice cos the path i took was kind of a niche path, but i swear i can give better more applicable advice.

[irish-urn]

Hi! So I’ve been reading some LWD fanfics and it’s always weird whenever some stories make Abby as this cruel mom who abandoned her children and is never in their lives. Like if you watch the episode “Adios Derek” it is clearly said that she comes by almost every weekend from Toronto to see her kids (that’s more than Dennis does and he is seen in better lights than Abby). And in that episode you could see how much Derek and Marti loves their mom (We don’t see much of Edwin and Abby though since he has his own plot going), so it’s kind of disheartening to see people write Derek as if he hates or thinks of Abby as a stranger, Nora said it clearly “the kids misses you a lot but they’re even prouder of you”.

ALSO, as a science student, I could tell you first hand HOW DIFFICULT it is doing an undergrad in that field, so I can’t understand the difficulty of a doctorate, I have a professor who told us that with a thesis paper there’s an oral exam where the examiner can literally ask you the wildest question about your subject and YOU HAVE TO KNOW IT BY HEART AT THAT MOMENT and if you don’t the examiner will fail you. So with all that pressure, studying, lab work and seeing her kids every weekend (the back and forth driving), it must take such a toll on her.

I don’t blame her for her absence and neither do the kids (obviously), but some writers seem to hate her guts for following her dream and being a weekend mom. I think it’s admirable that they went this route, usually they either make the divorced mom devoted to her kids or a horrible person who doesn’t like her kids, but here you have a mom doing her studies and being a mom.

And not to mention, the episodes are a snapshot of some days, it doesn’t show everything, so there’s most likely days where Derek, Edwin and Marti spends days with their mom (ex: Fright Night) and we don’t see it because then we’ll be missing key characters on the show. I hate how some writers act like Nora is more their mom than Abby is, like??? It’s such a disrespect to Abby and the kids like the kids NEVER called Nora “mom” and I don’t think they ever will since they clearly see her only as their step-mom and Abby as their mom (ex: Fright Night where Derek and Edwin clearly don’t see her as an authoritarian figure they have to listen to (unless their dad is there) unlike when Derek had to break the news to his mom that he doesn’t want to go to Spain (he was so scared to disappoint her) or when George yelled at him in S1).

Most times I feel like nobody watched Abby’s appearance (she is such a cool character, you can clearly see why George fell in love with her and how Nora and her became friends), they just saw the scenes between Dasey and called it a day. I’m sorry this is such a rant, but I feel like moms are always so discouraged to follow their dreams because they have kids (whereas if the men does it it’s empowering 🙄), my mom also had to sacrifice her dream because of her marriage and kids, so when I saw Abby following her career and still being there for her kids, it was so refreshing and then seeing all the hate she gets for it…really disgusted me.

Hiiii!!! Yay let's talk about Abby and the parents and Derek (because he's my blorbo and therefore everything spirals back to him *anyways*).

First of all: yes. I think you've summed up Abby and how she's actually portrayed in the show MUCH better than I ever could (I tend to ramble, as I think everyone knows). She's a really cool, good mom; and actually, I think you made something spark in me which is going to change how I write her in my kick at the darkness series — I've always been really torn on whether she stayed in Spain/Europe or moved back to Canada, because the show never really says, but now I think I know what I wanna do with her...

Secondly: regarding your frustrations about characterization within the fandom — the most interesting thing to me about LWD is that it's marketed as a sitcom, but it's actually far messier than that. Most sitcoms put a lot of stock into tropes, both plot AND character tropes. Just look at FRIENDS or Seinfeld or B99. Although the characters are more than just their tropes, viewers (and writers) do tend to fall back on "character types" when it comes to sitcoms.

Now, what does that mean for the 4 parents: Well, we have to divide them up into pre-determined tropes, right? And if we already have a "devoted good mom" in Nora... That means Abby has to be her foil, right? I think this is a trap that a lot of writers fall into, and it's easy to do.

LWD is cool though, because they do play with these tropes. Because Nora is a devoted mom, but she also compromises for the good of her marriage, parentfies the HELL out of Casey, and has severe self-esteem issues. George is the well-meaning but absent-minded father, but he's also extremely lax and inconsistent with his discipline, a lawyer who seems to coast more on his charm than his debating skills, and the kind of dad who likes all the fun parts about raising a child while being really bad at all of the less-fun (and arguably far more important parts).

Now, we see this because George and Nora are part of the main cast, so we get a chance to see them develop these characters. Abby, unfortunately, gets very little screen time, and most of her character is told us by what other characters say about her. The fun/interesting/dangerous thing about that is characters are extremely biased and Derek is RIPE for biased perspective.

(Here's where I bring in my blorbo; apologies, but you knew what would happen)

Since Derek is our MMC, we see a lot of the world through his eyes; and I think Derek has a lot of mixed feelings about his parents. A good chunk of that is because of the divorce — I don't care how necessary or right a divorce is, it's gonna be traumatic for the kids. And even if Abby and George have a good relationship post-divorce, Derek (and Edwin and Marti) still had to go through watching their parents separate and their lives change forever. Judging by the (incredibly wack) timeline of the show, I think it's safe to say that Derek was probably 11/12 when his parents were divorcing. That's a BIG AGE. He's starting puberty. He has a new baby sister. He has a new school. He's trying to figure out who he is. And on top of all that, his parents are splitting up? The boy has feelings and scars.

Also, we need to keep in mind that Derek is a TEENAGER. They feel first and rationalize later. So if we pick up on any resentment or negative feelings from Derek regarding EITHER Abby or George, that doesn't mean they're bad people. It just means Derek has BIG FEELINGS and he's 16-18 and trying to figure out the world.

For instance, I'm writing the kick at the darkness series (I assume anyone who is on my blog for LWD content knows this series). I have two scenes of Derek&Abby planned for it: one is set in Derek's first year of Queen's, and one is set during his third year. ABBY AND HIS INTERACTIONS ARE TOTALLY DIFFERENT IN THESE SCENES and 80% of that is because of Derek and where he is mentally. The difference between Derek at 19 and 21 is VAST. He's also just not in a good mindset in his first year and so he's not nearly as understanding of Abby as he could be; his interaction with his mom in his third year is really good though because his mental health and maturity has grown A LOT.

Both of these scenes and interactions can exist without either of them being OOC because people are complicated. I also suspect that Abby and Derek's relationship would get better over time as Derek matures, because he's gonna get a better appreciation of how difficult her choices were and how she did the best she could.

Slightly off-topic, but in the same vein: some people say that I'm harsh when I write George; but I actually find him hilarious and sweet most of the time. But what I'm playing with is Derek's growing pains and his changing view of his dad (also: the George&Derek relationship is MESSY AS HELL). Writing complicated characters and relationships is really difficult, and I struggle with it all the time. How do you balance all of people's flaws and strengths? Especially when, in fiction, there's almost always a conflict that's pushing the plot forwards that usually doesn't give people the chance to be their best selves (unlike life which is a cycle of peace and conflict). So, that might also be some of the explanation as to why Abby's writing in fandom is usually one-sided: a complicated character is difficult to write well; and if their main focus is Dasey, well... other characters may not be given as much effort to full flesh out. It's unfortunate, but understandable.

I also think that something that people might pick up on but might not recognize the complexities of is Derek's perception of himself. There's a scene in LWD when Derek tells George, "Do you have any idea how difficult it is being your son?" (or very close to it).

(Stay with me, I have a point)

George is a lawyer. Abby is a marine biologist. What do those two things have in common? A lot of education and focus and a clear career goal in mind. What are Derek's biggest weaknesses?

...His schooling, his focus, and a clear life goal.

What are the chances that a lot of Derek's mixed feelings about his parents come from HIS perception that they think he's dumber than they are? Do you think Derek sees his Ds and C-minuses and Fs, and then listens to his dad talk about his law cases, and his mom talk about her marine research, and he feels ashamed and stupid? I bet he does. I bet it makes him feel really small. And I bet it makes him lash out because that's what people do.

So, I know I went off on a bit of a tangent, and my thoughts went more in the realm of Derek's relationship WITH Abby, but I hope it was a good talk anyways? I ALWAYS HC that Derek and Abby have a really good relationship by the time he's, like, 21; and one that just gets stronger over time. I think she's cool.

[foggieststars]

wait can i ask what your undergrad and masters were (sweats in about to move back to the uk to do a masters program) and what made them difficult

rambling about uni under the cut!!

i did history undergrad and comparative social policy for my masters! the thing that made my undergrad difficult is just that i went to cambridge for it and the workload is extremely demanding for undergraduates, much moreso than for masters students (i did my masters at oxford and i know for a fact i was doing much less work than undergrads were!!)

so for undergrad what made it difficult: we had a 2000-2500 word essay due every week which professors expected you to read a minimum of 10-15 sources (chapters in books/essays) for, depending on the professor! (this is in addition to hundreds of pages of assigned reading for different classes) and then once you submitted your essay you'd have to go and have a one-to-one hour long discussion with the professor about your essay and defend your argument to someone who was very often a leading expert in their field, and watch and listen and nod as they shredded your argument to pieces... every week... for three years.

side anecdote: once i spent an entire essay absolutely BLASTING this one author for his take on a certain subject. i think i literally called him a misogynist in my essay. and when i sat down to discuss it with my professor she looked me dead in the eyes and said 'so i see you didn't enjoy my husband's book?' i am dying just thinking about it

so yeah undergrad was very tough and it's designed to be that way - oxbridge has an extremely 'sink or swim' attitude to education when it comes to their undergrads and they're very much of the opinion that if you can't cope with the workload, oxbridge isn't for you and you should leave and go somewhere else. i know several people who did! like they literally tell you that they make the kitchens cramped and uncomfortable to use in order to force students to buy dinner from their colleges and have more time for studying. lol

as for my masters, i found it MUCH easier to balance work and life! i didn't find the subject matter that much more challenging than my undergrad and in general i found that there was a much less demanding workload. probably because the course is only a year and is basically oriented around you writing your thesis! so i only had 2 essays to submit the whole year, and then weekly reading for seminars and lectures.

but i also found that i had to do less weekly reading than i was doing in my undergrad, because they expect you to be doing more in your free time to focus on your thesis and the classes are more of a framework for that. this is also HIGHLY dependent on where you go for your masters - oxford is still a pretty heavy workload for a uk masters. lots of my friends who did masters degrees elsewhere had a comparatively very chill time and a lesser courseload than i did, and i didn't even feel overworked! it always felt very manageable and a lot more adult

sorry i rambled a LOT but either way. i think you'll have an amazing time during your masters and please feel free to ask me any questions about masters in the uk etc, i'll try my best to answer them if i can!! <33

[threetransgressionsofmeow]

ok I am so sorry to be doing this, but I am asking this question sincerely. I was going through the comments of the post “as a ___ student”, full of people getting Big Mad about something, and you made a very reasonable comment. I am just genuinely confused by what you meant by “you’d trust someone with a degree in literature over philosophy or advanced physics” and I am… very confused ?? I am not offended (I also do not trust physicists for MANY things and I am one), but I desperately have to know what we did to be grouped with philosophy majors 😭 I am so sorry if this is weird, I am just so so curious.

im a philosophy major lol it wasn’t an insult dw. philosophy students are very likely to overestimate how much they know about a given philosopher if they haven’t studied them in depth, since it’s such a big field with such varied ideas it’s really easy to dunning krueger yourself(I could probably talk at length about certain writers but i couldn’t really give you a good comprehensive take on Kierkegaard, i haven’t read him past the very basics). I’m not very well versed in STEM but from what i can tell undergrad STEM majors in certain areas fall into similar traps. please correct me if i’m wrong because it was a pretty superficial judgement on my part based on what is essentially hearsay. this is literally a take based out of my own spite because i’ve found lit majors much more likely to admit they don’t know(although there are DEFINITELY. Exceptions)

keep in mind. im an undergrad and will probably regret these petty opinion in a few years when i get to grad school

[the-prophecy]

im literally so so frustrated.

i don't know if I should study for the upcoming pre uni exams to qualify for admission into a master's program. or should I try to earn money with my limited knowledge in the subject of my career which I learned in my undergrad. I see everyone doing different things and im so freaking confused right now. on one hand I want to study and learn more and develop more skills (promising myself I won't let anxiety take over this time) and on the other hand my brother keeps telling me what i "should" be doing. which basically is start earning money. i literally didn't learn enough in undergrad to actually work effectively in my field. so as a fresher it's terrifying out there

what are you studying? what grade are you in?/which course are you pursuing diti?

sorry for such a random rant in your ask box

the heaviness in my chest doubles every time i feel like im doing the wrong thing. which I always am, I guess?

Ok bestie bestie i get you it's totally normal to feel that way I've myself been up a few nights thinking this as I'm legit in last semester and like so one thing that everyone has told me to always complete masters like bachelor's mean really less and like you can do masters with an internship so you'll start earning a Lil bit with studying too also your brother isn't the one who decides what you need to do, you have to make the decision for your own good bestie, I'd suggest to do masters bc even my prof told me a bachelor's degree has no value compared to masters and this one's for the long run we know that right

I'm in third year college bachelor's of biochem and biotech (it's double degree) and like have 4-5 more months left then I'll do masters bc yeah as I mentioned before and I'll do internship which atleast gives me 10-15k a month

It's your decision bestie but from my side I'm advising to do masters bc we don't want to regret having a less earning job in future do we ? And it's ok we all go through the phase I've been there too at the end we need to chose one path and make sure we don't regret it, do whatever feels right to you not ur brother or ur fam. Hope you'll figure it out and if u need any help you can DM me anytime ���

[1d1195]

Hi bestie!! I fear I’ve made a decision that I’m going to regret. Decided to retake diff eq this term so my GPA will raise… IT’LL BE GOOD AND BAD AND I’M HOPING MORE GOOD

Last time I took it, I had never met the instructor (via class or work) so I didn’t feel the pressure to do the imposter syndrome thing. BUT the way they formatted the homework grading in Bb was VERY misleading and ended up fucking me. Actually really upset me bc it ultimately cost me like two letters😭and they didn’t even make notes on my third exam!!! just marked off points so I didn’t even know what to study from that unit for the final that was two days later😃

But, this term, the instructor is one that used to work in my department. They switched from science to math a few years ago, but I still worked with them for like a year and a half. So I’m afraid I’ll do that thing where I think “omg they’re gonna be so disappointed and think I’m incompetent and stupid and that I should be in a different field, so I must drive myself into the ground to succeed!” Bc I took a couple science classes for fun after I started working in my department, and that’s what I did🤣 like if they see me struggle, they aren’t going to trust me and they’ll hate me 😭

I know for a fact that the diff eq instructor this year would never think that (a literal angel, 10/10 the world does NOT deserve such a pure human), but the feeling is still there!!! Silver lining: We do quarters, and summer term is only eight weeks so the pain won’t last too long LMAO and I still have all my notes and hw so that’s nice

I was also a dumbass and bought the textbook, completely forgetting that I literally already had one💀

Sorry that was super long lol Anyways term starts Monday so I’ll find out 🙃 I hope you’re doing well!!!♥️

-👩🏻‍🔬

I think you're going to do tremendously. I really do. I don't fully understand the imposter syndrome part of things because I don't experience it, but I would imagine just recognizing the signs of it in yourself is huge. I know you've talked about it before and maybe I'm just reading into it, but I think just knowing the signs ahead of time will set you up for more success. From a teacher standpoint (and I know it's pretty different than a professor) but at the heart of it, I really believe your professor wants you to be successful as much as you do. I'm sure there will be days where you feel like you don't know what's going on and that's okay. No one expects you to know everything. While I don't know exactly what you're going through, I do know I don't give myself a lot of grace sometimes and get frustrated when I don't do everything perfectly or don't know everything on the first go of it. I think it's great you decided to retake the class (whether out of necessity or just because you wanted to improve) I wish I had done that with a couple of my undergrad classes. But regardless, I believe in you 💕 If you need a pep talk over the next 8 weeks, let me know. I'm you're girl.

Let me know how Monday goes! I believe in you 💕

xoxo

[classicslesbianopinions]

Hi, I am an undergrad classics student in my 6th year. Had lots of failings and barely making it atm. I want to get better and I really want to engage with the subjects and everything but I didn't have a good high school education so basically have no clue about the general outline of studying and being a student. My profs aren't any help and my uni is the only one with a classics major in my country. How does one become a better classicist? What do I do? I feel very lost.

oh nooo i’m sorry anon. classics can be really inaccessible sometimes, and i will say like i had a great high school education but i have never spent more time studying for anything than i spent studying for greek tests in undergrad. i don’t know what it’s like in your country/at your uni but like. it can be a really brutal field and it is even harder if you don’t have a background in latin or greek going in or if you’ve got any kind of societal disadvantage or if literally any extenuating circumstances come up while you’re doing your degree.

so i guess first i’d say that it’s okay that you’re struggling, it’s not your fault the field is super inaccessible, and don’t let anyone make you feel inadequate. a lot of people have a lot of advantages going in that it sounds like you didn’t have, and you’re truly doing your best with what you’ve got. which is amazing in itself.

i am honestly myself absolutely terrible at studying, but what works for me is often using quizlet or memrise to make flash cards and really drilling with those. sometimes you can find a set someone else has made too. another good strategy is copying out the stuff you need to study onto another sheet of paper— writing stuff helps it stick in your brain. and then challenging yourself to summarize the material without looking can help too.

and learning to take my time reading and really look for details etc was something that really helped me in high school! i usually underline in my texts which works if you own yours and don’t mind writing in books, but you can also take notes on a separate sheet of paper or use sticky notes inside the book.

if you’ve got the sort of language test where you have to sight translate a random passage of a work, unfortunately the best way i know of to study is just to translate the whole section the test might cover, which honestly always took me an unreasonable amount of time (but again i’m awful at studying so it might be a very normal amount of time and i just am not good at time management in general). my professor would tell me to translate it once with the dictionary and once without but i never had time for that second translation. but also the first translation with the dictionary helped a LOT when it came to the test!

and my strategy to keep myself doing stuff is to set a timer for half an hour or so and work non stop for that half hour— something about having a timer going overrides the part of my brain that would rather die than concentrate for five minutes.

the other good thing to know is that writing papers is literally just about writing down whatever you think. like you’ve got to give it a bit of structure eventually but the best place to start is by typing out whatever your opinion is like you’re talking to a friend, and then you can refine and organize it from there into something that looks academic and polished. i think it can be easy to be intimidated by papers in general but like every academic paper is just someone going on about their opinion. and your opinion is important and legitimate and don’t be afraid to state it! especially if you can back it up with sources! like it’s 50% about confidence sometimes. you may be struggling but you do belong and you have to act like you know you belong even if you don’t feel like you do. (this applies to everything but it helps me a lot with papers.)

so i don’t know if any of this helps but those are my thoughts. if anyone else has advice for anon with the studying or with anything else in classics please put it in the reblogs or replies! i feel like our followers probably have some good wisdom here. some of them have probably been in similar situations. and i feel like i don’t have that much help but i really feel for you anon and i want you to be successful. classics is hard to break into but it is possible for someone like you to do well.

[the-modernmary]

you’ll always know me || aaron hotchner x reader

Summary: "I would have stayed... If you asked me to.

After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you're back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

Warnings: mentions of weed

A/N: I really wanted some soft Hotch content in my life after all the angst in my best habit, and this is about as soft as I can get. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "dorothea". Honestly, I was listening to evermore, blacked out for about three hours, and this is what came from that. There is no other explanation for this. It's written differently than my usual style, but I hope y'all like it still!

read on ao3 || masterlist

~~~~~~~

“What’s got you in such a rush?”

  Rossi eyes Aaron carefully as the latter circles around his office, double and triple-checking that he didn’t forget anything. The last thing he wants is to have to come back to the office and cut his day short.

  Aaron shoves a few case files in his briefcase. “An old friend from high school is in town and I’m meeting up with her.”

  Rossi perks up at the word ‘her’ and he leans against the door frame. Aaron notices this, too, because he shakes his head quickly. “It’s not like that. We both got sent to boarding school for being problem children and we became quick friends. I haven’t talked to her since graduation. She just packed up her stuff and left the very next day.”

“You sound bitter,” Rossi points out.

  “Not at all,” he lies, trying to forget the hurt of running to your dorm for your weekly breakfast together, only to be met with an empty room and a singular polaroid. “I knew she hated it there and her goal was to travel and see as many places as she could. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s back stateside at all. Last I heard, she was doing some art apprenticeship in Italy, but that was years ago.”

  “You sound like you have a long evening ahead of you, so I’ll get out of your hair. And have some fun tonight, Aaron. You deserve it,” Rossi adds on as an afterthought. 

  The corners of Aaron's mouth lift slightly. “I will. Try not to let the building burn down while I’m gone. Reid is back on his physics magic kick, and I think I heard something about a lighter.”

  Rossi gives Aaron a two-finger, half-hearted salute in acknowledgment, which is all it takes for Aaron to shut his office door and head towards the elevator. Knowing that you’re just outside, he has to make a conscious effort to slow his pace from an excited jog to just an anxious speed walk. The elevator ride is slow, seemingly stopping at every single floor on the way down, which gives his mind ample time to wander and think back to graduation day.

  “There you are!” Aaron shouts from across the football field as he runs up to you, shoving through bustling groups of families trying to take pictures. He has so many stoles and cords and leis around his neck that you can barely see the suit he’s wearing underneath his gown. It’s a stark contrast to you, with only a singular chord for academic achievement, although a 3.2 wasn’t much of an achievement in the eyes of most people at boarding school.

  “Here I am!” you laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

  “Where’re your parents? Didn’t they come?”

  “Of course they didn’t. They’re not ones for celebrating something as trivial as high school graduation, not when it’s just expected of me.” You roll your eyes. “What about you? I thought you and Haley were going to do the whole ‘meet the family’ thing today?”

  Aaron is oblivious to the bitterness in your voice, although that’s nothing new. “We are, but I just wanted to give these to you.” It’s then that you notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand, although it’s now being pressed into your arms. “As a congrats. And a thank you for being there for me this whole time. You’re my best friend.”

  You try to ignore the ache in your chest at his words. “Thank you, Aaron. I… I didn’t get you anything, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he waves it off. “If you want to get me something, breakfast is your treat tomorrow.”

  “Okay, deal,” you agree, the smile coming back to your face. Selfishly, you don’t want him to go back to Haley or his family just yet. You want him to stay there with you so you don’t feel so lonely in the crowd of happy graduates. “God, I can’t believe you’re staying in D.C. for college. We always talked about getting out, seeing the world and never coming back.”

  Aaron shrugs, and you watch as he brushes away a piece of his hair that falls into his face. “I’m hoping that going to GW for undergrad will make it easier to get into law school there.”

  “And Haley Brooks is still here for another year,” you point out, half accusatory.

  “Yeah, that, too.” Aaron chuckles uncomfortably before quickly switching the conversation. “What about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “There’s an art school in Glasgow I’m thinking of going to. But, you know… George Washington also has an art program. It’s pretty nice, too. I’m still deciding.” You trail off, looking straight into Aaron’s eyes, giving him every chance in the world to make the decision for you.

  Aaron hesitates, fighting an internal battle. “Go to Glasgow!” he says, fake enthusiasm in his voice, but your disappointment blocks out anything but his actual words. “Then I’ll have an excuse to visit Scotland.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was leaning towards, too,” you lie. “Aaron, I—”

  You’re cut off by a voice calling his name. You both turn around to see Haley Brooks waving him over, her other hand holding 7-year-old Sean’s hand. She looks like spring personified, her blonde hair in bouncy curls and her pink sundress swishing around her long, slender legs. Her smile is so big that it could have parted storm clouds, and you want nothing more than to hate her with every single fiber of your being.

  But then you see Aaron, returning her megawatt smile with his own, one you rarely ever saw, and how can you hate somebody who makes him so happy?

  “I have to go, I’m sorry,” he says, although there’s not even a hint of regret in his voice. “But I’ll see you for one last Sunday breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I’ll see you then,” you lied.

  How Aaron could have missed the signs of your unhappiness, he’ll never know. At that time, all he knew was that you left without ever saying goodbye, leaving behind only a polaroid of the two of you from your weekend trip to Virginia Beach, both of you drunk and laughing with your arms wrapped around each other. He still has it, buried in his nightstand somewhere, but he hasn’t had the courage to look at it for a few years now.

  As Aaron steps out of the FBI building, he recognizes you instantly, even though it’s only the back of your head, and it causes his breath to catch in his throat. He calls your name and watches as you turn around, your hair whipping around you, and the fact that you still have that same mischievous glint in your eyes is enough to make him feel like he’s sixteen again and nervously skipping class with you holding his hand and pulling him towards the school gates.

  “Aaron!” You jog up to him and throw your arms around him in a hug, which he happily reciprocates. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away, and Aaron’s entire face burns.

  You keep your hands on his biceps, holding him at arm’s length, as you study him. He looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago, with soft hair and the slightest bit of stubble, but he looks less carefree. He seems more mature, like life had aged him 100 years. Still, as cute as high school Aaron was, it had nothing on how good he looks now. “Look at you, Mr. FBI, all suit and corporate-looking! I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Yeah, I guess I’ve changed quite a bit,” he admits, and the sight of his dimples makes you want to melt right there into the sidewalk. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you barely thought about me,” you joke, but hurt flashes through your eyes.

  Aaron wants to argue, to tell you that he thinks about you all the time, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to spend the precious few hours he has with you bringing up old issues. “Are you hungry? Because there’s this diner a few blocks down with giant milkshakes.”

  “Why are we still standing here, then? All you had to say was milkshakes, they’re my favorite.”

  “I know. I remember,” he says, and that all-too-familiar pang in your heart comes back like it had never left. “Come on, we can walk and cut through a park.”

  The two of you start your walk in comfortable silence, listening to the bustling city around you. Every once in a while, your hands would bump into his, and you were doing everything you could to ignore it.

  “So did you ever go to that art school?” he asks suddenly, looking over at you.

  You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. “I did. You were right, I loved Scotland.”

  “Where did you go after that? Nobody heard from you.”

  Your eyes sparkle as memories of your life the past few years flash through your mind. “Everywhere. Literally. I took a bunch of odd jobs and spent my time traveling,” you admitted. “I taught English in Vietnam for a year, worked on a cruise ship that went around South America, was an au pair for a French ambassador, went on research expeditions… Even dated a pilot for all of six months. Anything I could do that would let me see the world.” You laugh to yourself, shaking your head fondly. “I really put that private boarding school tuition to good use, huh? My parents were pissed.”

  “It sounds like you were living the life you dreamed of,” Aaron says softly, looking down at you.

  “It was,” you agree, your voice a little sad.

  “So then why are you back here in DC?”

  You shrug, your hands clasped behind your back, and you step down on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I’m just passing through. I’ve been going around the US and looking for a place to settle down. Finally. Figured I might as well put that art degree to good use. Maybe I’ll open a gallery or something.”

  Aaron nods slowly as the chill of autumn runs through his bones. It’s nice, though, in a weird way. He’s always preferred the fall over spring. “Where have you looked so far?”

  “Lots of places. San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Atlanta, San Antonio, Miami… I’m heading up to New York next. Nothing’s felt right so far. But enough about me, how are you? I heard you married Haley Brooks.”

  That same bitterness you felt in high school when you talked about Haley comes back with a vengeance. It’s unfair, and you know that. How was Aaron supposed to know that you were practically in love with him in high school if you never told him? Even now, you’re sure that he hasn’t put together the pieces.

  You watch as his gaze falls slightly. “I did. She died a few years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you reach out to give his hand a small squeeze.

  “We got divorced a little while before it happened,” he explains, unsure why it’s so important to him that you know that. “I blamed myself for it for a long time. But I’ve, uh… I’ve made peace with it now.”

  You give him a comforting smile, fully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. “Aaron Hotchner, making peace with something in his life? I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Aaron chuckles and bumps his shoulder to yours. “I’ve been known to do it a few times. But only a few. Haley and I have a son, though. His name is Jack. He’s 8 now.”

  You shake your head in disbelief, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “And you’re a father? Wow, you really have changed.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asks, and you shake your head wordlessly.

  “I like every version of Aaron Hotchner,” you promise. “Besides, change is a good thing. Especially since this city hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Aaron looks around, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s seeing DC for the very first time. “It’s actually changed quite a bit. But it’s subtle. Only people who have been here as long as I have would even notice it, probably.”

  The words cut through you both as a painful reminder of your abrupt departure from DC, and the silence settles over the two of you like a thick fog. This conversation was going to have to happen no matter what, you knew that going into this meeting with Aaron, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

  “I would have stayed,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “If you asked me to.”

  Aaron shakes his head as his Adam’s apple bobs. “I thought about it. But I couldn’t do that to you. I knew you wanted to see the world, and you said it yourself. This city had nothing left to offer you.”

  You pause, rubbing your thumb over your fingertips with your freehand. “It had you,” you reply, and Aaron feels like he was just stabbed in the heart. “That would have been enough.” Seeing Aaron’s dejected face, you quickly keep talking. “But I get it, don’t worry. You were head over heels for Haley Brooks. Everybody knew you two were meant to be together.””

  “What does that have to do with you leaving?” he asks, more accusatory than he intended.

  “Everything.”

  Aaron breathes out your name, unsure of what to say until he settles on: “I’m sorry.”

  You wave him off, forcing a laugh. “Don’t be. I was 17 years old with a crush. We do stupid things, like want to stay at home for a boy. I’m glad I left. Besides, Haley Brooks was clearly the love of your life, and far be it from me to try and break up the golden couple.”

  The two of you stop in front of the diner and you drop Aaron’s hand, much to his disappointment, although you’re still close enough to him to see your reflection in his brown eyes. “I didn’t know you felt like that about me,” he says.

  “Which is surprising, because everybody else definitely knew. But you’ve always been a little clueless when it comes to stuff like that,” you tease, flashing him a toothy smile. “But it’s in the past. So come on, I want to hear about this FBI stuff and drink a milkshake so big it makes my stomach hurt.”

  Twenty minutes later, you and Aaron find yourselves smushed together in a corner booth covered in cheap vinyl, splitting a chocolate milkshake and laughing as you stroll down memory lane. 

  “You know, I ran into Stephen yesterday! A little coffee shop not too far from here,” you tell Aaron.

  Aaron almost drops the fry he was about to eat. “Do you mean Stoner Stephen? What is he doing back here?”

  You take a sip of the milkshake, and Aaron’s gaze is intense as you wrap your lips around the straw. When you pull back, he’s still staring at the soft pink your lipstick leaves behind. “Apparently, he’s lived here for years. Also, did you know he’s crazy smart? Like… graduated 4th in our class, went to Brown undergrad and Columbia graduate, smart.”

  Aaron’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “And this is the same guy who, completely sober, tried putting his mattress in the pool so that he didn’t have to sleep in his own dorm?”

  “The very same one. He’s like a lobbyist now or something for some activist group.”

  “Wow, I did not expect that. Do you remember when he got so high that he thought his joint was going to catch the dorms on fire?” Aaron asks, the words barely discernible through his laughter. “So he warned campus police that the whole school was going to burn down.”

  “Yes!” you giggle, your head thrown back in laughter. “They thought it was an arson threat and they had to evacuate the whole school. I was taking an English final during that.”

  Aaron’s shoulder pressing against yours makes a shiver run down your spine. You idly wonder how much closer he can get to you if he really tried.

  As if reading your mind, Aaron turns towards you a little more so that your knees are touching and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. “We went to the beach that weekend,” he says quietly, unwilling to break eye contact with you. “Drank cheap beer. You got stung by a jellyfish. I had to carry you back to the car.”

  No, no. You were not about to fall for Aaron Hotchner’s charm again that easily. Not again. It took you too long to get over him the first time. Still, you were leaning closer to Aaron, and Aaron was leaning in towards you, and your noses brushed as you tilt your head to the side ever so slightly and—

  And his phone rings. Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips one last time before pulling away, giving you an apologetic look.

  “Hotchner,” he answers, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself as realization sinks into you. You feel like you’re 17 again, desperately waiting for Aaron to ask you to prom, only to hide in your dorm for days on end when he asked Haley Brooks.

  When Aaron hangs up, he immediately reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet, setting enough cash on the table to cover the tab and tip. “That was work. We have to fly out to Arizona. I’m sorry.”

  You nod understandingly. “Gotta catch the bad guys. When do you leave?”

  It’s silent for a few torturous moments before he finally answers. “An hour, at most. We brief at the office and then get on the plane.”

  “Wow,” you breathe. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you live out of your suitcase. Can I walk back with you, at least?”

  Aaron smiles, a small smile that makes you wonder how often he actually smiles now. It used to be a lot, but from what he’s told you, it seems like he’s had a rough go of it the last couple of years, and has a lot less to smile about. It makes you sad because when you were traveling the world, his smile was the one thing you missed the most.

  “I’d really like that.”

  The two of you make small talk on the way back, swapping stories about Jack and your various adventures around the globe. The autumn air is crisp with leaves falling all around you. At one point, there was a big gust of wind, and leaves and pine needles got blown onto the two of you, and you took your sweet time running your fingers through his hair, bushing it all off him. 

  When you get to the entrance of the FBI building, neither one of you says anything. You just stand there, both unwilling to say goodbye. You turn to face each other, just as close as you were in the diner booth.

  “Oh, you have a…” Aaron delicately reaches his hand to your hair. His fingers in your hair make your stomach do flips, and you’re almost positive he can hear your racing heartbeat. His eyes stay trained on yours the entire time, never blinking. “Pine needle,” he whispers, holding the offending object between his fingers.

  “Thanks,” you breathe, and you’re not sure if it’s the autumn chill or his hand reaching to cup your cheek that sends goosebumps throughout your body.

  As if he were magnetic, you rise onto your toes, bringing yourself closer to him, and you press your lips against his. Aaron deepens the kiss and runs his thumb across your cheekbone. His other hand wraps itself around your waist. The kiss is slow and sensual and better than anything you could have dreamed of — and you dream of Aaron kissing you more often than you’d like to admit.

  All too soon, the two of you pull away from each other, both wearing matching smiles.

  “I should probably… get in there… before my team sends out a search party,” Aaron says reluctantly, pointing towards the entrance. 

  You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Go save lives. I’ll probably be around for a few more days before heading up to New York. If you’re back by then.”

  Aaron purses his lips, deep in thought. “You’re definitely settling down somewhere? Done with seeing the world?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Have you… Do you think…” Aaron takes a grounding breath, trying to gather the words he was too afraid to ask back at graduation. “Have you ever considered settling down here? There’s a pretty big art community here.”

  You shrug, ignoring excitement building in your chest. “I think my work is a little too experimental for the people of the capitol.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he chuckles.

  You bring your lower lip between your teeth, chewing nervously at it. “I don’t know… I left for a reason. I just don’t know what DC has to offer me anymore.”

  Aaron spreads his arms out at his side, palms facing you in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. “There’s me,” he offers, and, when your eyes go wide, he adds, “And Stoner Stephen, if I’m not enough.”

  A laugh bursts out of you uncontrollably, which seems to put both you and Aaron at ease. “That makes it a very tempting offer,” you tease.

  “And I have a coworker who flips houses. He’ll be able to tell you where to get the best deal on an apartment,” Aaron presses as if you need any more convincing. As if your mind isn’t already made up.

  “First, I need to know that there’s more than one good place to get milkshakes,” you point out, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “You’ll have to show me around when you get back.”

  Aaron’s lips quirk up in a hopeful smile. “It’s a date.”

  He makes his way towards the entrance of the Hoover Building, but you call out his name, stopping him once more. “We’ll also need a new Sunday breakfast place. Since our old one is closed down.”

  Now, his smile is one of pure joy, and his eyes are sparkling in a way you haven’t seen in years. “I know just the place. As long as you don’t up and leave without telling me again.”

  “Never again,” you promise, and for once, the idea of staying doesn’t terrify you.

  “Then we’ll get breakfast together as soon as I get back.”

  You smile at him, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. “I’ll see you then.”

[theringers]

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

[theveil-and-thepath]

Hi.

Idk if you are taking asks. If you aren't then feel free to ignore this.

The thing is, I started my Master's course and I suck at everything. Literally everything. Except maybe English as a language.

It's very frustrating. And I don't know if I will be able to do anything. Or build a career. Or earn. Lol.

I'm sorry about the rant. Things have been new and strange and incompetence is not something that I am used to.

@ Anyone who sees this post and has some advice: please rb and add to it, share your experience with the feeling of incompetence in academia. (long reply ahead 2000+ words, the last 4 paragraphs are the reading)

Feedback for this reading

Hi, dear! In undergrad, while other students were struggling to keep their head above water, you were swimming and trying to be the fastest; now, for the first time, you’re afraid you’re going to drown. I’m going to reply with some advice from myself first (tarot below the cut, you can skip and go there) and have in mind that you just started your master’s.

Well, this feeling can come back many times before you earn this degree, so it’s good to learn how to deal with it early on. The first thing is: look for the mental health department of your university and use all of the services they provide. Do it before you freak out. If, during your master’s, you feel you’re just too anxious and can’t deal with it, even with therapy, don’t be hesitant to seek medication. It can be natural things or allopathic medication, together with trying to have the healthiest life you can. Don't hesitate to ask for medication (for real), it can make a huge difference, it can be the difference between lying on the sofa unable to get up for class and being able to at least do the dishes or open your dissertation or being able to open and read your emails. The second thing: make colleagues and ask people more senior than you about professors and supervisors. Don’t go for the super star supervisor who’s in fact an ass**** and will humiliate you or belittle you. It’s rare, but some departments are the home of some really arrogant people who won’t help you at all, so be aware of who these people are, learn the department gossip if you can. The third thing: ask for help. You may feel dumb and less knowledgble than the first year undergrad who just learned a new method or read an author, but if you didn’t and you don’t know what they are talking about, ask for help. Ask for a book to read, google as if you knew nothing, write down and google the concept you didn’t know, ask for how to spell a name (i felt so embarrassed that i barely did that), go around and find out even if this is checking basic maths again. Your undergrad materials are your friends. Go back to your past self because I’m sure they wrote some helpful things in these notebooks. If your master’s is in a different area than your undergrad, go check undergrad textbooks about what you need to learn. In fact, check undergrad textbooks to write your dissertation and make sure you got the basic correct if you want.

Now for the real deal. Not everyone is as smart as they seem. Knowing the right reference, having read the material beforehand, being skilled in speech and writing, all help for someone to seem like the smartest person in the room. You don’t have to be the smartest one in the room. You have to be the one who’s learning the most and making the best use of the input you get and you must be able to do a decent dissertation and graduate. Ultimately, it’s your dissertation and your specific field of study that will get you into a PhD and academic career, if you don’t want an academic career then you should worry even less about any of that stuff, if at all. The day you go teach something you’ll prepare for it, you’ll prepare a class, you won’t know everything. You need to be able to learn and teach in an organised manner, but you won’t know the details beforehand unless you’re teaching your own specific field of study. Students will ask smart questions to which you don’t have the answers, and that improvisation that you once did during an exam with open ended questions you’ll have to do in front of the classroom, and you’ll say what you know, acknowledge what you don’t and come back next week with an answer. Furthermore, not all questions have answers. By now you know that an “answer” can be a long digression of many possible scenarios and approaches from different authors. If you’re in stem, then you’ll do a similar thing, but one thing is common: you need to cover the basics. Now, you may not need to pay attention to every class you’re taking because they may not be useful for your dissertation, but try your best to grasp the basics and learn what you can. You will get used to the classes and learn what you can. Feeling dumb at first (or even in the end if I’m honest) is a sign you found your growth zone. You don’t need to fill it all and be like other people, but expand your knowledge as much as you can without damaging your health. It’s hard because it’s a moment when you feel everyone will point at you and say “oh, but weren’t you a smart ass? ofc you know this! you were the best, if you didn’t learn that then it’s a problem of your university. don’t they teach you this and that? how come you don’t know so and so? how did you get in?oh, don’t worry, you're smart, you’ll learn that with time, just keep working hard.” In a way, it feels like your pride is hurt and the foundation of your being is being destroyed. But you rise up from the ashes, that’s the challenge.

One point I want to make here is that sometimes impostor syndrome has a "real basis". It can happen that when you seek therapy they’ll treat you for this and make you see your potential and skill. But one thing people have failed in my life was recognize that I can be correct when assessing my own limitations and this is not me being a victim of impostor syndrome. Sometimes, you’re EXCELLENT, a GENIUS on your own, but it may still not be enough for what you want to accomplish and you may, in that situation, win as a person and win on the long run, but be defeated in the short run. There’s always a moment of genuine distress when you actually don’t know the thing, you actually don’t think you can do it, or you believe, you study, you manifest, you do your best and it’s not enough. I won’t tell you: work hard and believe in yourself, manifest and it will happen. I won’t fool you, because both of us know that you can do everything right and “fail” nonetheless. Sometimes, you don’t get the funding and you’re just as smart as the one who got it, sometimes you fail even when you do your best. However, sometimes you don’t! If you do nothing you get nothing, if you try your best you’ll get something. You’re into the program already, now you’ll do your best to expand your knowledge and overcome the personal challenge of dealing with growth and challenges and your own weaker spots. This can be painful af, so well I advise you to be close to people who love and support you, even if you don’t believe when they say “the top university will hire you asap” because you know the requirement in terms of publications, you know your limitations, you know you’re not as smart as you look like. BUT YOU’RE SMART AND YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IN THIS, YOU CAN OVERCOME YOUR CHALLENGES AND BE PROUD OF IT, YOU ARE CAPABLE OF DOING YOUR BEST.

There may be a moment in which you may question your very own skill of reading and writing (and spreaking), if you can make two words come together at all! The moment you’ll doubt if you know “english as a language”. Well, what you know will have to serve you and you’ll work your way around that somehow. It’s different for everyone. But one thing I’m sure of is you should have as much support as you can get, from family, friends, therapy, sports, religion, fiction, anything. Because on top of feeling incompetent, sometimes people come and challenge our things, you can feel bad because of the critics during a conference, feel awful at the comments from reviwers, there will be moments when this feeling of incompetence is pushed to the limit. This happens if you don’t go for academic career as well, your boss and colleagues, critics and challenges overall (+ some people have no tact and are rude). So the key now is to learn how to deal with this new feeling of incompetence. You are not incompetent, and you wouldn’t be even if you hadn’t got into that master’s!!!

Will you get a career? Will you earn? Will you get tenure? Will you get into a PhD program just as good as your master’s? Will you ever publish at such and such journal? Will your work ever be recognized? Will you want to go through a PhD after struggling with a masters? Honestly, I don’t know, but very likely you will. These will change after every new book you read, every new topic you learn, every new assignment you do, every presentation, every group assignment, after meeting new people, after going to places, after trying and learning, after being rejected by all reviewers, after failing and getting up again. The more you work, the better your chances, and if you don’t get the spot you dream of, I can say we never know where life is leading us, what people we’re meant to meet, what we can experience. The smart person you are still exists and will never die, you’ll learn how to swim in this new sea, and if you don’t like the water there are plenty of water bodies out there to try. I know this is not the most reassuring message, but there’s never the guarantee of success as you see it. And you need to respect your body and your mind, the time you take to breathe because if you hold your breath for too long you won’t be able to swim and die anyway, even if you didn’t drown. You may get messages like there will be struggles but you’ll get it in the end, but remember that sometimes new routes await you and the knowledge you have will serve you perfectly well.

Now, after I vented myself, I’ll ask tarot: how can you overcome this struggle with this feeling of incompetence?

Your best asset, your challenge, the best approach: three of pentacles, the high priestess, strength.

It seems very fitting, your best asset is working and seeking help from people you know. In a master’s it can be the afternoon you spend preparing with a friend for an exam, you turning on the “learning mode” and reading a book with an open heart without the feeling of incompetence get into the learning, it’s open your mind for new knowledge, it’s have 4 books open on the table, 6 pdfs, one document you’re writing and write two sentences a day, it’s solving part of the equation and stopping to have coffee and feel stuck looking for a way out without panicking. I’m sure there was at least one academic challenge you overcame in undergrad, remember that, summon up that learning and fighting mode because it’s what you have to work around your current challenges. Regardless of the results, you can try to get to that mode again.

Your challenge here is the high priestess. She’s smart, she speaks only when requested, she knows mysteries, she picks her battles. You need to be at peace with yourself alone, master introspection in a way you let emotions flow but don’t let them get the best of you. For me it’s also that moment of deep thought when you stare at a paragraph or an equation, when you look at your code that is not running properly, the spread sheet that has a mistake, and you have to try to stay calm and muster all the knowledge or ask for inspiration on how to crack the mystery, how to get out. This is a specific moment in the learning process, especially important if you need to find a new approach for your dissertation. This is your challenge, learn how to deal with this moment or even get to this moment (when we’re feeling incompetent it’s nearly impossible to even work to the point where you stop and thnk without dispair). Make sure your mental health is in check for this, anxiety won’t help here and this is a serious matter. Learn smart too. If it was a mention of an author or method who made you feel extra dumb, but said author is not very important to you, don’t bother. Go work on what you need to pass and what will help your dissertation and your own particular field. Learn new things obviously, but work as smart as you can because nobody has time to know it all.

The best approach is the strength card. Perseverance. Extra cliché for my liking but true nonetheless. It also speaks about finding balance between mind and heart, your brain taming your emotions, taming your negative thoughts and direct that impulse and strength to what is worth it: learning what you can, one step at a time, and do it smart and pick only what’s most helpful to you. Tame yourself, check your health, practice a sport, go to therapy, read books, keep yourself alive and feeling confident enough to advance. You can’t tame a lion, ever, but you can try to be his friend and let him work with you. Do this with your emotions and it can lead you far in life.

That was it for the reading. I’m sorry if my personal vent was unrequested, but I feel strongly about this topic. I wish you all of the best in this world, that you can feel divine guidance when your life seems lost and find the strength you have within yourself. You need to believe when your friends say good things about you, because you’re much stronger than you think, and life will only make you stronger, dear.

[florenceandthemachine]

hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

“He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

[daddy-socrates]

okay I'm curious Why did you mention salior uranus in your thesis?

THANK you for asking because i love to talk about it hehe >:3c buckle up

back in undergrad, i was invited to do a senior thesis. i wanted to do mine on language and gender because my (problematique fave) professor whose class got me into the field at the start just... wouldn't use my pronouns. she's very bad at using pronouns and frankly i think she does not understand limits. a philosophy of language class does not mean you get to just say ~whatever.~

basically, this project was borne out of "hey! use my fucking pronouns :))" i had (have) pretty severe "i can fix her" disease :// i....... was not a really great student in undergrad. people who have followed me since then can probably attest to that through my personal ramblings. my advisor (a different professor) was disappointed in me like the whole way through and i live in constant fear that she will find this blog and go "oh! thats why you didnt pay attention in class, dumbass :)" (though maybe she would see this post and say "oh.... growth :)" who's to say)

but see, though i struggled to get myself to stay engaged in my advisor's class, both she and that problematique fave had assigned texts that would lend themselves beautifully to my dream project - even though i just..... had a terrible habit of misunderstanding readings to basically an absolute inverse degree. like it's a chronic issue. maybe i should have figured out "this is what im understanding so the opposite is probably more correct." i'm working on it, though, and i'm better at getting it the second time around now that im in grad school. ^^;;

SO this brings me back to my thesis: basically, why does language matter? one of my chapters was about representation. i talked about janet in the good place reminding people every day, "not a girl." i talked about haruhi fujioka from ouran high school host club, "i don't care if people see me as a guy or a girl. it's what's on the inside that's important." i talked about stevonnie from steven universe, being the first fusion to be addressed with they/them pronouns. i talked about jesse and james from pokemon and their frequent "gender swapped" costumes. and, at last, i talked about sailor uranus - tenou haruka - using both masculine and feminine self-referential language and presentation.

the thesis statement of my tragically mediocre thesis paper is basically "when you have access to language, you can better describe your experience and understand the experiences of others." you can come to a stronger self-understanding, form connections with others who share some traits, discover community, come into support, enact change, and so on.

the paper im writing "writing" right now for my epistemology class is pretty much an elevated version of that, though i'm focusing less on gender identity and discussing like.... more like the "concept of identity" itself. one of my first grad classes was hermeneutics - the study of meaning, where it comes from and where it leads - and there is so much ~delicious~ overlap between the texts for that class, those from the undergrad class on language, the undergrad class on gender and intersectionality, and my current class. my current paper is on "epistemic injustice;" that is, lack of access to language (whether deliberately or unconsciously through systems that no single individual person had set up) puts people at disadvantage for the huge sector of life that they otherwise could understand.

ALL THIS to say, i was a snarky asshole in undergrad but i have very real investment in media representation. if i had watched she-ra before i presented my paper, i would have included double trouble (my beloved), and i have yet to watch owl house but i see there's another they/them? we love they/thems <33 i am always thinking back on when korrasami became canon, how that was a huge moment of positive bisexual representation. i think about sophia in orange is the new black, introducing to a more adult audience different layers and kinds of violences that she and other trans women, especially she as a black trans woman, are uniquely at risk for.

my graduate school thesis is going to diverge a bit from the language of justice and of personal and group understanding to an even broader scale, though i am going to have a lengthy chapter on the matter. (literally like one hour ago i emailed my county representatives to say "hey, the training material for my substitute teaching agency Fucking Sucks, how can i help bring appropriate language and subsequent recognition of mentally ill, neurodivergent, and disabled folks to the stage?")

the many forms of the philosophy of language is what sparked my passion for the field, and i want to give language to those who may have difficulty understanding texts like i do. i want to take all that i am learning and share it as best i can with others, or at the very least, use it to aid my interactions with others. that's why i have this stupid tongue-in-cheek blog in the first place! academic shitposts and some current social and political events are so important to share.

i do have a side blog for fandom shit since i wasnt smart enough to make that the main and this the side, so fan artists see @/daddy-socrates liking their posts and i am So Sorry About That but like... i don't want to take everything in life so, so, gravely seriously. OBVIOUSLY there are subjects and scenarios that are not to be joked about, but i think we get so bogged down in the severity of all the global problems that we forget to play around a bit. purposely putting a handful of anime characters into my undergrad thesis was my way of being both playful and highlighting how fun is a critical social learning tool. it may well have been the only really solid thing about that project, honestly. i hope that in the future i can revamp it, using what i have now.

so............. that was WAY more than you asked for, but there you have it, my whole raison d'être. :'^) thanks for asking, hope i made sense

[akathecentimetre]

Hey there, so I really like history as a subject, and I'm pretty good at it. The thing is, I don't know what my career options would be if I studied it, or if I would be able to make money. My parents are heavily discouraging me from taking it as a major. As a 'historian' in training' what's your take? Thank you

Hi there! Sorry for the delay, ‘tis the hectic season…

Oh man, I have so many thoughts for you. Full disclosure: this is something I have worked on a LOT over the course of my graduate career both at my uni and on a national level; most of my advice, however, comes from a PhD candidate’s perspective and may not be directly helpful to an undergraduate, and I should also emphasize that everything I can say on this is very firmly based on the U.S. market only. That being said, a lot of what I can say can be universally applied, so here we go - 

The number of history undergraduates in the U.S. has plummeted in the last decade or so, from it previously being one of the most popular majors. There are many interacting reasons for this: a changeover from older to younger, better-trained, energetic professors who draw in and retain students has been very slow to occur, partly because of a lack of a mandatory retirement age; the humanities have been systematically demonized and minimized in favor of the development of STEM subjects, to the occasional benefit of students of color and women but to the detriment of critical public discourse and historical perspective on current events; with many liberal arts colleges going under financially and the enormous expansion of academic bureaucracy everywhere, resources are definitely being diverted away from social and human studies towards fields which are perceived to pay better or perceived, as mentioned in the article above, as being more ‘practical.’ (We do need a ton more healthcare workers/specialists, but that’s a different conversation to have.) But now I feel like quoting a certain Jedi Master: everything your parents say is wrong. Let’s dive into why being a historian is a positive thing for you both as a person and as a professional - 

You will be a good reader. As you learn to decipher documents and efficiently and thoroughly read secondary literature, you will develop a particular talent for understanding what is important about any piece of writing or evidence (and this can go for visual and aural evidence as well). This will serve you well in any position in which you are collecting/collating information and reporting to colleagues or superiors, and evaluating the worth of resources. Specific example - editorial staff at publishing houses either private or academic, magazines, etc. 

You will be a good writer. This will get you a good job at tons of places; don’t underestimate it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been astonished (not in a punitive way, of course, but definitely with a sense of befuddlement) by how badly some of my Ivy-league students can write. Good writing is hard, good writing is rare, and good writing is a breath of fresh air to any employer who puts a high premium upon it in their staff. History in principle is the study of change; history in practice is presenting information in a logical, interesting, and persuasive manner. Any sort of institution which asks you to write reports, summaries, copy, etc. etc. will appreciate your skills. 

You will be a good researcher. This sounds like a given, but it’s an underappreciated and vital skill. Historians work as consultants. Historians work in government - almost every department has an Office of the Historian - and in companies, writing company histories and maintaining institutional archives. A strong research profile will also serve you well if you want to go on to work in museum studies and in libraries public or private/academic. As a historian, you will know not just where to find information, but what questions you have to ask to get to the answer of how to tackle, deconstruct, and solve a problem. This is relevant to almost any career path. 

You will provide perspective. Historians react to current events in newspapers and online - not just on politics, but culture as well (my favorite article of this week is about the historicity of The Aeronauts). Historians act as expert witnesses in court proceedings. Historians write books, good books, not just meant for academic audiences but for millions upon millions of readers who need thoughtful, intelligent respite from the present. Historians work for thinktanks, providing policy analysis and development (a colleague of mine is an expert on current events of war in Mali and works for multiple thinktanks and organizations because of it). Historians work for nonprofits or lobbying groups on issues of poverty, environmental safety, climate change, and minority and indigenous rights. In a world when Texas school textbooks push the states’ rights narrative, historians remind us that the Civil War was about slavery. Historians remind us that women and people of color have always existed. In this time and world where STEM subjects are (supposedly) flooding the job market, we need careful historical perspective more than ever. We need useful reactions to the 2016 election, to the immigration travesties on display at the southern border, to the strengthening of right-wing parties in Europe - and history classes, or thoughtfully historical classes on philosophy and political science, are one of the few places STEM and business students gain the basic ability to participate in those conversations. [One of my brightest and most wonderful students from last year, just to provide an anecdote, is an astrophysics major who complained to me in a friendly conversation this semester that she never got the chance to talk about ‘deep’ things anymore once she had passed through our uni’s centralized general curriculum, which has a heavy focus on humanities subjects.]

You will be an educator. Teaching is a profession which has myriad challenges in and of itself, but in my experience of working with educators there is a desperate need for secondary-school teachers in particular to have actual content training in history as opposed to simply being pushed into classrooms with degrees which focus only on pedagogical technique. If teaching is a vocation you are actually interested in, getting a history degree is not a bad place to start at all. And elementary/high schools aside, you will be teaching someone something in every interaction you have concerning your subject of choice. Social media is a really important venue now for historians to get their work out into the world and correct misconceptions in the public sphere, and is a place where you can hone a public and instructive voice. You could also be involved in educational policy, assessment/test development (my husband’s field, with a PhD in History from NYU), or educational activism. 

If some of this sounds kind of woolly and abstract, that’s because it is. Putting yourself out there on the job market is literally a marketing game, and it can feel really silly to take your experience of 'Two years of being a Teaching Assistant for European History 1500-1750’ and mutate it to 'Facilitated group discussions, evaluated written work from students [clients], and ran content training sessions on complex subjects.’ But this sort of translation is just another skill - one that can be learned, improved, and manipulated to whatever situation you need it to fit.

Will you make money? That’s a question only you can answer, because only you know what you think is enough money. That being said, many of the types of careers I’ve mentioned already are not low-paying; in my experience expertise is, if you find the right workplace and the rewarding path, usually pretty well-remunerated. 

Specific advice? Hone your craft. Curate an active public presence as a historian, an expert, a patient teacher, and as as person enthusiastic about your subject. Read everything and anything. Acknowledge and insist upon complexity, and celebrate it when you can. 

And finally - will any of what I’ve said here make it easy? No, because no job search and no university experience is easy these days. It’s a crazy world and there are a lot of awful companies, bosses, and projects out there. But I do very firmly believe that you can find something, somewhere, that will suit your skills, and, hopefully, your passions too. 

Resources for you: the American Historical Association has a breakdown of their skills-based approach to the job market, reports on the job market(s) for history PhDs collectively called ‘Where Historians Work,’ and a mentorship program, Career Contacts, which could connect you with professional historians in various workplaces. There is a very active community of historians on Twitter; search for #twitterstorians. For historians who identify as female, Women Also Know History is a newer site which collates #herstorian bios and publications to make it easier for journalists to contact them for expert opinions. ImaginePhD provides career development tools and exercises for graduate students, but could probably be applied to undergrads as well. The Gilder Lehrman Institute is one of the premier nonprofits which develops and promotes historical training for secondary school teachers and classroom resources (U.S. history only). Job listings are available via the AHA, the National Council on Public History, and the IHE, as well as the usual job sites. And there’s an awful lot more out there, of course - anyone who reads or reblogs this post is welcome to add field-specific or resource-specific info. 

I hope this helps, Anon, or at least provides you with a way to argue in favor of it to your parents if it comes to that. Chin up!

[toookish]

hey there!! i’m the anon asking about publishing and i was excited to hear that you have a masters in that field. i’m studying english at school with a focus in creative writing and i’m super interested in the possible fields surrounding what i’m studying (also currently looking at the ma program my school offers in publishing) but have been super discouraged by my advisors recently as they’ve been super unhelpful with questions and helping me find people to connect with.

i do have one professor actually pushing me to get involved with publishing because i do find it really interesting in a lot of ways but i also just don’t think i have a good enough grasp at what the possibilities are in the field, especially as i’m kind of hopelessly searching for internships at the moment in a pretty big city with some ivy adjacent schools -

anyway, sorry this is so long winded and i know this seems like a very education based question lol, but really i would be very grateful for any tips, advice, or experience you are willing to share!

thank you!

hey yeah! sorry i know you sent this a couple hours ago but i was yanked into several meetings. ok so.

i also did my undergrad in creative writing (although it was not part of an english department, but that’s a different story). i spent a not-terribly-fun 8 months trying to find a job after graduating, and eventually started applying to internships at small presses in my city. very few of them got back to me; the ones that did told me that they didn’t take interns who weren’t from the master’s program here.

so, i applied to the master’s program, got in, and started school that fall. it included an internship as a portion of the degree itself, and i think this was super super valuable. i’m now fully employed at the press that i did my internship at.

(there are structural issues with why master’s programs and internships (especially unpaid) should not be required to get into the field, but it’s not like i can do more than say “this sucks, it should change, but it’s also currently the best way to get into the industry.”)

whether or not you decide to do a master’s program also depends on where you live and where you want to start your career. and i’m talking literally what physical location. in my city, i needed it to get my foot in the door, but there are a lot of places where you wouldn’t need that. look at cristina, for example, who has a master’s but not in publishing, and when she was working in publishing did not have more than an undergrad degree. so do consider whether or not you want to live somewhere that’s going to require it. big presses are less likely to require master’s programs - the only reason it is such a big thing where i live is because there is a program and presses can say that they want that kind of experience, and 20-25 people are knocking on their doors every summer looking for work. so why would you bother taking an undergrad, you know what i mean?

maybe you’re wondering about what you don’t know about the industry? i think the biggest thing to note is that you might think you get into a master’s program to do, say, fiction publishing, but likely your program will also cover magazines. one of my classmates thought she was going to learn a lot more about the mechanics of academic journal publishing than she did, so she was a bit disappointed with that.

me? i got an internship at a scholarly press, where i still work. i told my boss a few weeks into my internship that i’d been afraid i was going to be really bored - but i never have been! first of all, it’s still publishing, and just the act of being around books and producing books actually has shockingly little to do with the content. second of all, i actually enjoy the content a lot. i learn tons about all sorts of weird stuff! so i would definitely say that you should be open to trying different kinds of publishing than what you necessarily think you’d want to do (also, one of the reasons i like my work is that it doesn’t drain me creatively, so i still have the capacity to do my own writing).

i hope that answers some of your questions? i’m happy to answer more if you’ve got them though! :)