#and i was in my three week practicum

[chicken-fifi]

🥲 u are actually so sweet i will cry fr

ig i’ll hit the dms if i ever get the cojones (sorry in adv, multilingual queens RISE)

i’ll only write exclusively for him tho so i guess the third worst thing is cricket noises?

anyways, i hope u have a great weekend and spring break coming out to say we are the same age and i’m also a shortie 🫶🏻

- hugs

what spanish variation do you speak? i speak a mexican (specifically jalisco) variation

felt that though, the crickets get to me sometimes

i hope you have an amazing weekend as well! my university gives us two weeks of spring break and my body knows it's coming

21 and short gang!

[visionsofmagic]

⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆

DAY THREE: robert pattinson x f!reader

previous | masterlist | next  

• summary: robert and you go for the met gala and when he sees you, he just realizes you are the prettiest girl once again. | wc: 1.3k | tags&warnings: fluff (believe me when I say it), a slight nsfw content too, before!met gala event, kissing, girlfriend!reader, robert is such a good boyfriend, gentle!rob, touching, dirty talk, playful!rob and reader, teasing, enjoy! [also, so sorry for the wait because I had to change my phone, going to practicum process and doing my finals, so, hope this chap will be good! thank u!

Robert knows you are so pretty – the prettiest girl alive he can see and feel. He is sure he is lucky to have you, as he always tells, believing you are his miracle, giving him happiness and affection his soul seeks for. However, he realizes these facts once again when he sees you in a dress that covers your body so beautifully that he fears that his vision go blind because of the light you are spreading with the dress he never seen before on you and your smile – oh, that gorgeous smile, he thinks, the one he can give his life for to see. 

“Oh, love,” He tries to say as he makes his way to you, arms half open to hug you when he reaches his destination, “My love, you look –“ He can’t find any word enough to say how beautiful you look – even more than just a beauty. He can swear if you say you are an angel, he will believe right away because you look so much like an angel – with pureness and light only he sees thanks to being your boyfriend, the one you give your heart and soul to with body as well. 

“You look so good that even if I use hundreds of words to describe it, it will not be enough.” He says in a genuine tone. He always tells truth to you – you don’t deserve lie, no one does, and he likes to be sure that he doesn’t say even white lies because lie is a lie, without matter of the color of it. 

Smiling to him, you feel wonderful because you know how he means it when he says it. He is gentle with you – a perfect boyfriend you have, making every day of your life bearable, worth to live and happy. 

“You are making me blush, honey.” You say as he stays in front of you, opening his arms wider enough for you to get his gesture and hug his neck tightly, feeling softness of the fabric of his suit. His hands find their places on your waist, pulling you closer, putting a few kisses on your hair and spends a moment to smell your hair, saying ‘hmm’ in a low voice – he is happy, so happy, to have you like this, in his arms, kissing freely and seeing your smile, hearing your little chuckles when he says, “You look like the sun on earth, you know that right?” 

Breaking the hug a little, you look at his eyes, smirking playfully, “When you become the moon, I decided that I should be your sun.” I say, referring to his role as The Batman and how the character is belong to nights – to the moon of the nights. Robert is opposite to the Batman with all his gentleness, smiles – oh, those cute little smiles, light golden brown hair and blue eyes with full of sparkles, but, when you have a chance to tease him, you take it.

Chuckling, he puts a kiss on your nose, “You are always my sun, darling, even before I play that role,” He kisses your forehead, “My sun – the light of my life,” He kisses your cheeks one by one, “My love – the one I love from the deepest part of my heart and soul.” Lastly, he puts a kiss on your lips, warmness flowing from his to yours for a moment before he gets back and wait for your action. Oh, such a tease, you think but you play with his little game still.

Firstly, you kiss his nose like he did, “And you are my moon – making my night lighten up with your own gleam.” Then, I kiss his forehead, raising on my tiptoes as he lowers his head down a little with a chuckle, and I hit his shoulder gently with a smile, “My beloved who I want see as the first thing in the morning and the last thing in the night.” I kiss both of his cheeks that have light blushes on, “The one who has my heart and soul within my body,” Lastly, I kiss his lips, longer than his, wanting to feel him closer. Getting my gist, he hugs me tightly, closing the gap between our bodies, making them crash into each other as my hands on his neck travel into his hair, then to his shoulder, ending on his chest. The kiss take longer than I expect but I feel like he needs it – he needs to feel me long enough to let me go, and I agree to his idea because I want to have him too. 

Between the kisses we share, I feel one of his hand goes up to my neck as the other one lowers down to my ass and I chuckle, saying, “Robert, I th –” I moan when he bites my lower lip, closing my eyes because of the feeling, unable to speak more and this makes him laugh playfully, knowing his own effect on me.

“You were saying something, sweetheart?” He asks but he doesn’t wait for my answer when he walks towards me, making me taking steps backwards and when my back find the surface of the nearest wall, I say, “We should go before it is too late.”

I want to stay though, letting him have his way with me and taking all the pleasure he can give but we can’t stay any longer before it is too late to go for the gala which he needs to go as his manager says.

“Just a few minutes, believe me,” He says, hands go under your long skirt as he pulls it up, making your thighs and legs be exposed to his eyes and when his hands touch your ass, he stops for a moment, eyes wide open as he asks in disbelief, “No underwear?” He almost sounds like he enjoys this too much.

With a sudden shy that hit me, I lower my head down, shrugging, I smile, “I – I wanted to tease you with it when we arrive the gala.”

He smirks, feeling shy like you do too but he is better for hiding it than you – always. “You are such a tease! I love it,” He kisses your neck; “You have no idea how much I want to tear this dress up and have you right here.” He speaks with no hesitation – only truth and lust can be heard in his attractive voice. You know how he can be a playboy so easily when it comes to you – only you.

“But we should go,” you say, taking his hands back from your ass even if you want him so much right now. “However, I can give you a promise though,” You say, smirking, making him furrow with curiosity on his face expression.

“And what is that?” He asks; hands stop on the wall, right beside your waist, caging you inside his body.

You put your hands on his neck, still having a smirk, “When we come back to the house, I will let you having your way with me – without no disapproval.”

He only laughs at your deal. Holding your chin with his fingers, he says, “My pretty girl – oh, I will take you with my way, you can be sure about that,” He lowers his head down, whispering into your ear intensely, “But who said I would not have you in the gala?”

It makes your legs shake in excitement because deep down, you know Robert will hold his promise, finding a way to give pleasure both to you and to him and only the idea enough to make you give him all.

Smiling, he puts a kiss on your cheek as he holds you from the waist. Then, he fixes your dress like a gentleman, asking you whether you are ready or not. When you nod, he takes you by the hand and smile widely, “Let’s go and make the whole world see how beautiful you are and that you are my beloved.”

The end. 💕

[wolfiemcwolferson]

“I wanna get better”

Ok, this is more sad. Piarles. (I went cuckoo. sorry) CW for mental health stuff

Pierre in the midwest going to university while living at home - commuting 45 minutes to campus three days a week, driving to their research facility one day, and working on his dad's farm the other three.

Spending late nights when he can't sleep wandering through a pasture with a headlamp and his dog while he thinks about living on a coast - somewhere he can stand on a beach and feel small in a really different way - thinking about that time he was eight and his parents drove them all to the Californian coast and he knew what happiness was.

He goes to parties with his friends and he wants to feel something, but the girl he was dating for 2.5 years dumped him last year when he started anti-depressants because she couldn't get it and he can't get himself to ask out the girl in his physics class that has made it really clear that she likes him and he's like, trying really hard to make it work.

He starts his third year and his dad is asking him when he starts his practicum for his teacher's exam and Pierre doesn't know how to tell him he's been thinking about applying to grad school or that he's been seeing the therapist at university or that he's having those discount medical cards sent to his friends dorm room mailing address so he can pay cash for anti-depressants without his parents finding out, but he's making it, you know? He's making it.

And then he's sitting in the library right before his 21st birthday and he's got like 15 open tabs for colleges on the coast that offer master's degrees in biology and that's when Charles flops down in front of him, laughing and asking if he can sit with him. "Sorry if this is weird, but everywhere else is full and I just...really have to try and figure this shit out or I will fail this biology exam."

Pierre is entranced by him and obviously offers to help. Clears his throat a little and asks, "who's the professor?" and slides the textbook over to him, to highlight the important information, but he slides his computer away and Charles is laughing again. "Are you transferring to South Carolina?" before squinting. "Oh god, tell me I haven't managed to find the only other person from South Carolina?"

Pierre shakes his head. Explains he's thinking about going to grad school there and instead of him helping him with Biology, he's slowly being told about all the best places to hang out and all the spots that Charles loves and how he's really actually cold and miserable and he's been flirting with the idea that he will transfer and finally Pierre is like, "I'm so sorry, but I have to go to class, but I will help you with this. Give me your number and we can set something up." And Charles is so shameless like "God, I didn't even have to work to get you to ask me for my number." and obviously Pierre can't take it back, just blushes and laughs it off, but god. It sits heavy in his heart.

He sees Charles two days later and helps him with his biology, but he also looks at his dimples and watches the way he drags his vowels and he waits and waits and waits while he tells long and rambly stories that don't mean anything. And so when he says into the abyss of his car on his drive home that night, "I think I might be gay" and it doesn't scare him the way he thinks it will, he texts Charles and asks if he wants to go grab lunch with him - no biology homework this time.

It's a very fast and mad descent into being in love for the first time.

Pierre is so incredibly busy, but he's lying to his parents about school work and he's driving into town to spend whole days in Charles' dorm room, licking up his neck and explaining biology homework to him in great detail and learning about himself and about Charles in return and it's a bit like standing in the ocean again for the first time.

Charles understands loss and he understands that Pierre feels like he's trapped in a box and he makes him laugh and he makes him feel like he's on top of the world and they're sneaking around and it's everything young love should be.

Charles tells him he's staying for May-mester too because there's this class he needs and it's only offered in the summer and so Pierre knows they have four months together and he plans on making every single day count.

It's just that...he maybe gets so wrapped up in Charles, in thinking this was the thing missing from his life that he stops...filling his prescription and he...goes a bit wobbly in May.

Charles has class four days a week and Pierre doesn't have class at all and his dad finds out that he's been seeing someone from school and he kind of goes to the dark place and I think they have a really nasty fight the last week of May and Pierre accuses Charles of not giving him enough time and Charles is like, I can't go anywhere with you I can't go home I can't go to restaurants I can't do anything so how?

He goes to see Charles the night before his flight back to SC and Charles says, "I love you, but I think you need to...figure some stuff out."

And Pierre is...still at home. Watching Charles have the summer of his life in South Carolina before Charles posts a really vague thing at the beginning of August about being home and then he calls that night - for the first time all summer and Pierre gets really excited. Thinks he's coming back.

"I'm transferring, Pierre." Charles tells him quietly. "I just...I need to get my shit together. I was barely going to class last semester and I just...I can't be the only thing you have in your life. It's not good for either of us."

Pierre has half a dozen half finished applications and two letters of recommendation and an expired anti-depressant prescription and he decides that he can't do this. He can't be the person who has half a life because he's scared or can't get his shit together.

The next year is really really hard and it goes something like this: He tells his parents about the anti-depressants and he comes out and he tells them he wants to go to grad school and his dad is furious, but his mom holds him and cries and helps him make a list of what he needs to do. He applies to six grad programs. He takes his anti-depressants everyday and he goes to therapy and he tries really hard. He graduates with two acceptances and he has a text from Charles congratulations on graduating and it's the first contact they've had in months since Pierre unfollowed him on Instagram and it doesn't feel like it's going to kill him and he texts him back and thanks him and tells him he hopes he's happy. Charles reads it but doesn't respond. Pierre goes on a couple of dates with a guy he met online that summer, but he tells him he's going to grad school in the fall and so they remain friends and that's really it.

The fic ends with Pierre moving into his new apartment right off campus, meeting his roommates in person for the first time and they ask if he wants to go out that night as a welcome dinner and he's like, SURE.

They all walk into this place with garage sides that roll up and foamy beer and it's just so...Pierre can almost smell the ocean from here and he feels alive - just like he did when he was eight and just like he did when he fell in love with Charles and just like he did when his therapist hugged him during their last session and told him she was proud of him.

He's being introduced to one of his roommate's friends from his grad program and Pierre hears him - Charles.

He turns around and he's there. Talking to a group of people, laughing and talking too loudly like he's prone to doing, but he turns immediately when Pierre says his name. "Charles."

His eyes go wide and Pierre thinks he's pissed but then he's throwing himself across the group of people and Pierre almost tips backwards catching him and Charles is laughing. "What are you doing here? What are you doing here? Oh my god. Are you starting school here?"

And Pierre laughs, telling him that he is. he's starting his grad program next week - is Charles on vacation or?

"I transferred in. I finished my associate's at the junior college back home and I - this was my number one pick." Charles laughs and pulls his phone out. "I think I'm gonna need a lot of biology help this semester."

Pierre puts his number in. "Why the hell are you taking biology? Don't tell me you're trying to -"

"Pierre." Charles laughs, "It's a line. I'm never taking another biology class in my life. I'm just getting your number."

"Oh," PIerre smiles before handing the phone back.

"Listen, I do have to get back to my friends because they will lock me out of the apartment tonight, but I will text you okay? And we'll get together and talk, yeah? I know it's shit of me to say, but I've thought about you like, every single day and this is...kismet or something."

Pierre nods and accepts the hug and when he turns back to his roommates, he shrugs and says, "It's my ex." and they all laugh.

He doesn't stay his ex, and Pierre goes to therapy and takes his anti-depressants and he and Charles sit on the beach for hours and they talk about everything and nothing and Pierre reminds himself that he always wants to get better.

[wufflesvetinari]

i need to convince myself i'm making SOME progress with this godforsaken short story so i'm going to post a bit of the draft here. just to say it exists, three friggin weeks later

-

Red smoke like a sunrise, the air of this strange planet choked in the soot of our victory. The battlefield bright with mech debris: fertilizer drones commandeered from our home colony, reprogrammed, weaponized. Sent with us in the forward dropships; keyed to our command. 

We would not have bombs, otherwise. We would not have poison.

We are farmers. We are a gentle people.

Our organic-glass tubing spreads like strawberry runners over the scorched alien terrain, its density determined by algorithm. At home, this latticework would have delivered nutrients and treated the soil. It would have brought life to barren ground, a resource available to all by sacred human right. Enshrined in our charter and constitution: life. The right to it.

But the dose makes the poison. My new compound spreads quickly; contaminates enemy soil.

Some of us have fallen. Our exosuits, designed for solar satellite repair work, apply coagulant and brace bones. Our respirators, meant for deep-sea environmental preservation missions, work to filter out the blight we’ve brought. In this way our fragile psyches are insulated from the shocking scent of death. 

But not the topography of it. Not its shape.

We’ve pulled the enemy out by the root. The General told us we didn’t have a choice. They’d tortured our ambassador, destroyed our lunar seed vaults, attempted a blockade. They were coming for us. We had to. 

We had to.

The General strides across ruined plains, his body like a scar against the sun. A sharp and sudden light reflects from some piece of him: his exo, his command glove, the clasp of his cape. The light of him drives straight through me.

He is a colossus. He saved us. He needs me and he saved us and I want to go to him, but I can’t even stand. 

Smoke plumes rise like distant grain silos. I vomit into my respirator, trapped with the scent of myself; the scum. I fade.

-

“Can I ask what you’re making, sir?” Lieutenant █████ asks, sitting in the patient bed next to mine. Since the surgeons woke her an hour ago, she’s done nothing but yank on her fingers like she wants them removed: first the right hand, then the left.

“A gown for a newborn,” I croak past a damaged throat. “My wife’s in the third trimester back home.”

 “Oh. Is this your first?”

“The first I haven’t carried myself.” I wrap homespun wool around my hook, offered by our neighbors in exchange for my help reprogramming their fertilizer lattice during the last dry season. I brought skeins of it with me in the forward fleet; an entire basket in my quarters. “I owe my older boys new sweaters. They need clothes whether there’s a war on or not.”

█████ giggles, a little manic, as though I’ve told a joke. 

Her hemp bag boasts the emblem of the Weather Shaper’s Syndicate: a civilian expertise that earned her a hasty officer rank in my Specialist Corps. Her leg ends just above the knee, but she’ll be fitted with a biosynth soon. The doctors probably completed a full vitamin rebalance when she was under. Probably countered a genetic susceptibility or two, just because they could. 

“At least there isn’t anymore,” she says. When I look at her, she clarifies: “A war. We ended it? Just now? Or at least once the talks end.”

When I give her no answer, she goes back to pulling at her fingers. Her sunken eyes dart from my bandaged ribs to the baby’s sleeve taking form under my hands. 

The medi-ship’s plant wall generates a cocktail of pristine air and corticosteroids. Beneath us, the wreckage of a planet turns.

She tries again: “It—it was terrible. As inhuman as they tell you in the ethics practicums as a kid, like something out of the old world. I saw—but the General said it was worth it. To protect everyone. Back home?”

Her gaze asks for my authority as a substitute for forgiveness. She looks very young, and I become very angry.

“What was worth it?” I say it calmly. I don’t know why I say it at all. 

“I…the General said—”

“Which part do you mean? Specifically.”

Her smile trembles; she presses the button for pain reliever. She doesn’t fully understand it yet, the scale of what we’ve done, but her body feels it like a fever. 

I make my voice bright and effusive. “No need to be so modest. Your team did well punching holes in their ionosphere. Between that and the typhoon seeding, how many did you take down before the dropships even landed?”

“Sir?”

“Let’s talk in planetary percentages. Let’s talk in long-term damage.”

Our founding charter, the General’s steel voice says in my head—like he’d said to the Colony Council, two years ago—allows for militia muster in self-defense. It allows for the ethical deployment of minimum effective force. If you grant me the authority—

I smell my own vomit again, its own kind of ghost.

“Sir—Commander ██████,” the weather shaper says faintly. “I carried out your orders.”

“You did.” I rip back a row to fix a dropped stitch. My sheets are hand-sown and clean. “You’re right. He’s right. We had to protect ourselves.”

A gift box looms at the foot of my bed. It had taken me some hours to work up the courage to open it. Inside sits a bottle of wine from my home syndicate—the General knows I like good wine—and some kind of complicated artisan decanter, constructed as a tangle of glass roots as tall as my forearm. 

The decanter leans by design, like a lurching soldier. It casts sharp-twisted shadows. It traps the light.

Swift recovery, my friend, the letter says, his cursive a series of slashes across the page. My heart races like a north-rabbit in flight. Like lying in the melting snow of a battlefield, watching his presence eat up the horizon like an Alexander of our own making. Like the line between love and fear.

I ask a nurse to decant the wine for his team as my thanks. The liquid works through branching blown-glass roots. A maze of red, like the fertilizer lattice I programmed to poison a hundred thousand miles of enemy farmland. Like strawberry runners.

-

I do not want the decanter. 

Its complex and scarless surface speaks to the work of a master artisan. At home I would have had to trade a lattice designed from scratch in return for a product so fine. But people—people who meet him, understand him—give the General things for free.

I visit the General’s quarters on the Plethora, my ribs still aching, planning to explain that my dogs would just knock his gift from its shelf. That my boys play rowdy. That the house my great-grandfather built in the first days of the Colony is small, each space designed for function (solar power and a heat pump and green-growing walls). The better to keep to the Charter; give back to the land.

Instead, I stand at his doorway and fail to knock. I’ve found I can’t picture his face anymore, not outside of that one half-conscious moment: the battlefield, the hard red horizon. 

A superimposition of my other memories. An invasion.

The door slides open and I jump. His shadow swallows mine. His massive shoulders fill the doorway.

He looks at me and I’m wrung out clean, a piece of fabric on the line. His eyes are deepest green. 

“██████,” he greets me softly, and invites me in.

[greenhouse-studies]

Day 59 • 100 Days of Productivity

(no pictures today, sorry!)

i am absolutely exhausted. i had three classes today starting at 11am and ending at 5pm.

i had precalculus 2 from 11-12:15 and my professor talks FAST like oof trying to get the notes down before he moves on is rough!

then i had my 2-3:15pm college composition 2 class, and i got to analyze a poem and it was a REALLY GOOD poem! i also signed up to be the discussion leader for shirley jackson’s the lottery when that’s our assigned reading later this semester which is going to be amazing! it’s one of my favorite short stories so i’m excited to lead a group discussion about it.

finally i had my foundations of education class, and out of the whole 12 of us, i am THE ONLY GUY in a class full of women. the only other man is my professor. it’s kinda weird, especially being a trans man but none of them know im trans bc i’m stealth at college and everyone thinks i’m a cis guy. but anyway! i’ll be getting my practicum placement in a couple weeks and i may be doing it at my old high school which would be so fun and also i could actually be out because everyone knew i was trans because i was literally in the process of my transition when i was in high school. i also just kinda miss my teachers and wanna go back to them.

i also worked a bit on my modern western history class when i had down time.

anyway! i’m exhausted and in pain (yay chronic pain and chronic illness…) but i had a great day!

🎶 flu game - fall out boy 🎶

[stargirlfics]

I just got home from a 13 hour shift on the cardiac floor for my nursing practicum and my legs hurt so much! I just need my feet rubbed, my forehead kissed, and my back rubbed 😩

Bestie I feel you omg, I do three 8 hour shifts in a row as a surgical tech and today was my last day working for the week and my body is…a bit wrecked lmao, our legs and feet go through so much in healthcare don’t they 🥺 you deserve the most relaxing, soothing massage friend!

Also cardiac floor…whew yeah, nursing in cardiac always sounds so intense to me and especially with longgg hours, so I commend you, super proud of you anon!!

[walrusmagazine]

Send the Barbarian in First

Dungeons and Dragons helped me bond with my kids—and now I teach other dads to play

When no one seemed to be stepping in, I said I’d oblige: run them through a few games so they would get a sense of the rules and flow of the game. We’ve played the three Sundays since. The fathers have come each week with their kids, everyone eager and willing to play. I narrate the story but also discuss how the rules work; they take notes and read my handout sheets and take actions that advance the plot or turn it in a new direction. The kids and dads work together to create an awesome memory. It’s like a practicum in cool dadding.

Read more at thewalrus.ca.

[ivansergeyevichturgenev]

my tarot cards said something about my ed program would piss me off this week. they were right. i'm expected to carpool with people to practicums and no i will not be reimbursed for driving not only myself but three other people and they said don't expect them to work around any other schedule other than your courses (including work!! elijah stopped me from writing a passive aggressive comment about how my husband and i do have to work to support ourselves but agreed i should include an acknowledgment that the two of us have to share a car). and then all of my classes are under the assumption that none of us have any sort of disability that we could relate to regarding our students and it's like. part of the reason i want to go into teaching is because of my childhood and how when i was living in filth being neglected living through the aftermath of being sexually assaulted multiple times and not handling it well and my teachers were quite cruel. and i do not want to be that for children at all. i didn't feel safe at home or at school and i want to make my classroom a safe place where EVERYONE is entitled to learn. but yeah just the assumption that i couldn't possibly have any disabilities or struggles. it is actually crazy i've heard people talk about accommodating students and then i just read a syllabus that said we can't make exceptions for one student because it wouldn't be fair to the rest. HUH??? are you just giving examples of how not to be an educator like lol

[isenmatsumotocapstone]

FINAL REFLECTION VID!

Q's + CC:

What were your thoughts about your research topic going into the first week of the semester?

At first, my thoughts regarding my research topic: Censorship and its effects on Media mainly consisted on how I would manage to relate this specifically to film since that is where my idea originated. I noticed how adaptations of certain movies would deliberately edit scenes out of the film which drastically changed the creators overall message. This led me to take on media censorship as my topic. Eventually I realized that relating media censorship to just film is not only limiting but also ignorant of the fact on how censorship affects all facets of media. 

What are your thoughts now about your research topic and your project/practicum?

I now feel great about my research topic. Deciding to conduct my project in the form of a website is what I always had my sights set on and working on it has tested the limits of my creativity. Showcasing media censorship through a “parodied” or “faux” dystopian government has been a ton of fun to do. I have essentially created my own little universe where this government exists. Creating a 2nd website that poses as both the “explainer” website and rebellion movement both immerses the audience and informs them of the censorship practices used in the initial website.

What did you learn about yourself as a creative through this journey?

One aspect that I learned about myself as a creative through this journey was how much I enjoy storytelling and creating worlds for people to experience. I love being able to express my creativity through crafted storylines and immersive experiences that can make learning things feel like watching a good movie or book. I also recently rekindled my passion for editing videos through the process of editing my trailer, I forgot how much satisfaction editing brings once you see that final product that you’ve been working so hard on.

What did you learn about the creative and production process?

One thing that I learned about the creative and production process is (this has probably been said a million times) is important and crucial it is to prioritize your time, goals, and organization. Degree of significance is in that order. Time management skills are a very important factor towards your success and is often the determining factor. In the beginning, I personally struggled a lot with time management as I didn't have a clear vision for what I wanted to do with the technical aspects of my project, this led to a lot of procrastination and moments where I was afraid to do anything since I wanted to have things be exactly how I saw them in my mind. I also struggled with organizational skills which led to me wasting ample amounts of time due to not finding the correct files to work on. That is why I believe that these three factors are extremely crucial towards your success in this capstone project.

What advice would you give new senior capstone students?

One piece of advice I would give to new senior capstone students is everything that I have said in the previous question and to (as corny as it sounds) do something that you enjoy or are passionate about, it can make a world of a difference. I don’t think I would have put in the same amount of effort if I had done a topic or project that I wasn’t interested in.

Where to now?

In all honesty my plan is to keep learning new skills regarding website design and video editing. I want to build my expertise in these fields by signing up for online bootcamps or just learning on my own in my free time. Once I feel confident enough in my skills I want to start a personal freelance business where I can create commissioned websites for clients, I will also provide video editing services as well. I’ll probably also look for creative tech internships where I can lend my skills in design there. Additionally I also have goals in having a career in aviation as I want to one day become an airline pilot one day but in the meantime… I must start saving my money.

[mill3nniumforc3]

When I was in college, I made a list of 10 things I wanted to accomplish by the time I was 30. I turned 30 earlier this month, sooo let's see what I did (or did not).

Have my Bachelors AND Masters Degree in elementary education- NO. I don't even have a Bachelors because I discovered during my practicum semester that elementary education is not what I want. It's probably a blessing in disguise because we saw how teachers were treated during the pandemic. I might not be working a glamorous job right now, but it pays the bills. Tbh, I probably make more at my job than I'd make as a teacher.

Be married to the love of my life and have at least two kids- NO. While I have found the love of my life and we do plan to be married someday, we aren't now because engagement rings and everything wedding is EXPENSIVE. It's also the same reason why we aren't currently trying to get pregnant. I do have six cats and two dogs, plus a nephew (with a niece who will be here very soon!).

Move out of Ohio and to a warmer state (preferably one of the Carolinas, Florida, or Georgia)- YES and YES! I moved to Georgia in 2020, and while the political atmosphere isn't the best (better than Florida, but not as good as some other states), it's REALLY fucking nice to rarely worry about shoveling my driveway, brushing and scraping off my car, and driving on icy roads. Plus, my seasonal affective disorder has improved since moving down here, which is always a win!

Visit all 50 states- NO. While I've been to most of the states east of the Mississippi River, I'm a long ways away from visiting all 50.

Briefly live in another country- NO. I think I wrote this because one of my friends from college went to South Korea for a year and I wanted to do something similar. I spent a week in St. Lucia last year, but that was to vacation, not to live.

Live in a nice house- YES... sort of. When I was in college, my definition of nice was probably a large, clean house with a bedroom for everyone, at least two bathrooms, and good for having company over. Right now, we live in a 3 story townhouse with two bedrooms (which is enough, since my boyfriend's mom lives with us) and three bathrooms (tbh, I don't think I'll ever live in a house with fewer than three again). It's clean for the most part, and I think I wanted emphasis on it being clean because my parents did not care about the house (or us) being clean. The house is not good enough for having company over the way we'd like, but we want to remodel the basement area and redo the deck in the future. We also don't plan to live in this house forever.

Have friends that I see or talk to regularly- NO. I barely have friends at all! There isn't anyone I was friends with in high school who is worth being my friend now (not a single one of them remembered my 30th birthday for fuck's sake! Meanwhile, I remember theirs every year, but whatever...). The college friends aren't much better. I only have one friend from college that I kinda-sorta talk to consistently (we're both very busy women, and most of our conversations are quick ones on Snapchat. Since we don't live in the same state, it's harder to make time for each other. Plus, I'm sure she's busy trying to plan out her wedding). The only person besides my boyfriend that I can sincerely call my friend who lives near me is my coworker.

Drive a nice car- YES... again, sort of. I'm pretty sure college me considered "nice" as a BMW, Mercedes, or Tesla (I REAAALLLY wanted a Tesla when I was in college). I drive a Nissan Kicks, and I fell in love with that car the moment I saw it. Besides, little did college me know that those expensive-name cars aren't much better than the common-name cars ("A Lexus is just a Toyota in disguise" I would often say).

Still write, play the Sims, and maybe restart making Sims videos- YES, EH, and NO. I still write, though the stories I write are not the same stories I wrote in college (I don't remember the last time I wrote about Jannie, Bailee, and Alex, though when I'm feeling nostalgic for it, I'll go back to read and maybe edit/add stuff to the existing stories). I don't play the Sims nearly as often as I used to, mainly because every time I boot up the game, I get bored and don't want to play it (if only I could still play The Sims 2...). With that said, I don't make Sims videos. I haven't made a Sims video since I was 15, and I probably got to thinking about making Sims videos again because I thought people would find the stories I make with my Sims interesting. I think I'll stick to watching Kelsey Impicciche.

BE HAPPY- YES! I am happy. I might have days and times when I'm sad, frustrated, annoyed, and even angry, and sometimes I think the world would be better off without me, but I am generally happy. I'm happier than college me could've imagined, and way happier than high school me thought was possible.

So, I didn't accomplish everything that college me wanted, but I think that's all ok. Some things happen for a reason, and even if the reason isn't obvious. Here's to all the adventures that lie ahead in this new decade of life.

[chicken-fifi]

Coping (pt 3) | Heechul (SuJu) Imagine

Pairing: Kim Heechul x Reader

Requested by @bokkibunny: Hi Fifi, I’d love to request Part 3 of the Heechul car accident reaction, please! I love the way you’re making the story go, so I don’t have any specific requests. Although maybe even though she is waking up, recovery will be long, painful, and difficult, especially because a tube in her throat is preventing her from speaking until she is fully healed, and she can’t communicate and tell Heechul how she feels about him. Thank you!

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 830 words

A/n: unlike the previous part, i did not write this with a headache, but rather the beginnings or ending of a cold (and with the knowledge that it is 9:32pm and i need to be up by 5:50-6:00am to go to my practicum school). please go read part 1 and part 2 first, as well as the reaction!

Tunes: n/a

It took you three days to regain consciousness. Three full agonizing days for your family and Heechul to have to get through. As soon as Heechul had told the doctors what had occurred, they’d been pretty optimistic about the possibility of you fully waking up, yet they were still highly concerned regarding the other effects that the brain injuries you had sustained had and would continue to have on you. So far you were having difficulty breathing on your own, thus the doctors had made the decision to have you remain intubated until you regained enough strength and control to breath on your own or with the help of a different device.

There was no denying that the road to a full recovery would be a long and painful one, mentally and physically for everyone involved.

You and Heechul especially. The man had practically started living at the hospital with you, spending the time when he wasn’t changing or showering by your side, hand holding yours as he adjusted your pillows, helped bathe you, told you all about the day outside. Most importantly, professed his love for you time and time after. Something you so badly wanted to do yourself.

Since you’d heard his voice that day weeks ago confessing to you in tears, you wanted so badly to open your eyes and cup his face whispering the same words back to him. You wanted him to know you loved him just as much. But your body refused to listen to your commands. The one thing you had been able to manage to do was force your hand to squeeze his.

“Do you want to try something with me?” Heechul posed hesitantly. “I think you might like this idea if you’re up for it.”

You managed to nod, sitting up with his help as he moved the tray closer to you and placing a journal and pen on the table.

“I know your strength can vary depending on the day, but I thought we could try and communicate through writing. Work on exercising your mind and your fine motor skills?”

You looked at Heechul in mild shock. There wasn't any question that he was a smart man when he really put himself to the test, but coming up with this not only to communicate but also help with other areas that your doctors had begun to bring up was something truly moving.

As best you could, you lifted your hand from beside you and opened the journal to the first page, picking up the pen with little difficulty. You struggled to find a comfortable grip for a moment before shakily beginning to write down something on the paper. It was far from the usually neat and proper penmanship you normally had, but it was legible. Heechul angled his head to look at what you were writing, only for you to quickly block it with your other hand - an action that surprised you just as much as it did him.

“Well it’s good to see some things don’t change even after being unconscious for three days,” he grumbled before sitting in his designated seat beside you. “You keep writing and I’ll read it once you’re done.”

So you did. Slowly and shakily, you kept writing. Everything that you wanted so desperate to say to him with your voice you wrote onto the paper. You swore to yourself that once the tube that was helping you breathe was taken out - hopefully in a few days given the progress you were making with your breathing according to your doctors - you would be able to say everything written on this page to him aloud.

Setting the pen down, you looked at Heechul, reached out and tapped him - at a much slower speed might you add - and turned the journal for him to read.

You watched as his eyes flickered across the entire page taking in every letter, every word, every sentence, every paragraph with care and conviction. You swore you could see him engraving everything you’re written in his mind, committing it to memory.

You watched as his eyes welled with tears as he reached what you could only assume were the final words you’d written.

I heard everything you said and you won’t lose me. I won’t leave. I’m not going anywhere. I will always be right here by your side until you no longer wish me to be a part of your life. I love you Heechul, just as much, if not more than you love me. I love you.

He gave an airy chuckle, as he looked up from the journal and leaned over pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I’m not letting you go, you realize that right?” he whispered. “Never ever.”I know, you wanted to say in that moment, and you would when given the chance, but for now you would bask in his closeness, closing your eyes as felt his warmth spread across your body. I know.

[teacherlailiatschool]

My 4ourth week

(21 August - 25 August)

One week before the school holiday!! Hehe. So, on Monday, as usual, I went into my relief classes and distributed the exam papers to them, keeping my eyes on them to ensure they were not cheating! Sksks. Even though it was tiring because I needed to walk around the class, I was having fun because I got to see their papers and how they were answering the exam questions. My Monday duty as a teacher ended as usual, and nothing special happened today because school still had an examination day.

On Tuesday, my mentor asked for my help to mark English paper 1 for my class, which is 1 Amal. I was very happy because of her (my mentor). I had the opportunity to experience marking an exam paper even though I was a practicum teacher 🥲. I'm so thankful to my mentor because she trusted me to help her. When I was marking the paper, I found it very challenging because I initially thought I needed to mark the question paper, but I was wrong 😣. There was an answer paper given, which included an OMR paper. I'm glad I noticed before I started marking.

Here it comes, the most tiring day, which is Wednesday. I arrived at school at 9 AM for extracurricular activities. I was assigned to Unit Beruniform Pengakap, and today's activity was to play a crossword game. I helped some of the groups find difficult words in the crossword game. After the students finished, they had to present their answers in front of the teacher.

Next, I entered my class, 2 Aura, at 1.10 PM and did some class activities with them. I asked them to share their answers on the whiteboard.

On Thursday, nothing special happened, but when I entered my relief class, which is PL Amanah, Bernice (one of the students), volunteered to draw my face. While managing the other students, Bernice tried to memorize my face and was very enthusiastic about drawing my face 🤣. Here’s the result of his drawing. I think he did a very good job, and it's not bad, haha. Thank you Bernice, teacher appreciated it!

YAS! The last day before the school holiday! My school organized a Bubur Lambuk Programme. Teachers and students helped each other make the bubur lambuk. There were three types of bubur lambuk: udang, ayam, and daging. Here are some pictures that I took during the program. As you can see, Marzuandy (practicum teacher) is helping pour the bubur lambuk into the tupperware.

[practicum2023]

Renovation and Bio File Suggestions

Friday Sept. 8, 2023 10am - 3pm. / Supervisor: Akiko

Photo caption: The John Henry Faulk Library or the old Central Library next to the Austin History Center or the Austin Public Library as it was called in 1933. Both are currently being renovated.

For as long as I been volunteering at the History Center, there was talk of one day being renovated but as you may know, the city moves slowly. Of course the year I decided to do my practicum, construction started... Usually I work out of the Community Archive office at the end of the hall but the noise sounding like a dentist drill came from the floor underneath. I chose to retreat to the Reading Room.

I now understand a good portion of the History Center would be moving to the building across the parking lot. I overheard the last to go would be the cold storage for negatives kept in the top floor in cooler temperature.

Renovations is the main reason I moved to three days a week, five hours a day. By my calculations I should finished half the required 120 hours by October. My supervisor estimated 5-10 hrs a week in October so 20-40 hours and with November, I can do between 2-3 days a week with another 40-60 hours. I'm confident it will all workout.

Photo caption : My workspace at the Reading Room. Transcripts on the left, iPad with keyboard to the right.

Regarding my current project, I realized I might be over doing the summary description of bio files. I'm writing out much longer descriptions than previous summaries. I plan on looking over and edit down my summaries next week.

After spending the week working with the bio files I've come up with some suggestions I will bring up to Akiko next time I see her.

Have future interviewee list their pronouns. I have come across a situation where the unisex name leads to confusion, nor could I infer from the transcript which pronoun to use. When this happens, I default to using their last name such as in "Robertson wrote the book in 1997" instead of "He wrote the book in 1997"

The transcripts should be numbered on the bottom of the page. If a 40 page transcript should fall to the ground it wouldn't be difficult to place back in order.

I plan on working on bio files and Alice Yi Papers later this week.

Total Practicum Hours left ; 95 hours

[kpforpresident]

Glad to hear you're finally free! I have 6 weeks left give or take as a slave to deadlines and assignments (its going as pleasantly as getting wisdom tooth removed). What are you doing for your practicum? Also would love to see some love for your Canon AU 👉👈🥺

I will absolutely try 🥰 three chapters left of that damn thing and it’s hanging over my head 💀💀💀 good luck with your assignments and deadlines love!

[notesandchai]

Winter 2022 (Q2)

01.24.23 | Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday mesh together

Week 9 Day 2 + 1 + 3 + 4

So I had a bit of an epiphany this morning. Just kidding, but was thinking; I am the fool on this journey, I accept this and I undertand that part of the learning curve is to lower my expectations to a novice level. H8 it but it is wot it is m8. I was reviewing the plan I have in place for my courses and practicums and there are exactly twenty-one 5-credit courses that I complete. The first one felt like the orientation of the fool, I learned to experience the wonder and envision what I wanted to down the line. This quarter, the Theories, Techniques, and Ethics feel like the first three figures of the Major Arcana. Theories is the study of how to embody the different aspects of the theoretical approach

Ok so I watched the Fundamentals of Caring for the Ethics Discussion. I want to make sure I am able to put together the PowerPoint presentation and then I can record the audio tomorrow

I am watching the Narrative Family Therapy video -- make sure I connect the video to the post!! Still using the same case for the conceptualization, but each new theory gives me a bit of a headache. It's a bit jarring to comprehend it without any sort of lecture or explanation by the professor. All interactions happen within the Discussion Assignments ~ and I don't know how to process the fact that I hate online class discussions. I knew it would be a challenge with the Online School vibe, but here we are. And why is it so hard to get 10 points? This course has been humbling to say the Least. I am still in Fool Territory here.

Techniques : I have the final mock counseling session with The Client tomorrow (Wednesday) and I want to be able to finish up the worksheet due by Friday? I also want to finish the Skillsetter practice by Saturday.

This week, I want to do nothing on Sunday.... ideal I know. I've been struggling with the timeline of this quarter. I Hope to Howdy next quarter is smoother. But it's hard not to think outside of the present when you're actively pressed in the middle of the 10-week-sandwich.

_______

As of day 4: I got the two discussion posts in, both late, one by a day the other by an hour.

I had my final session with my mock client and so far, it has been the best one. I feel more confident in being able to execute what I want to during a counseling session and being able to get out of my head and stay present and focused on integrating techniques. A game changer.

Now I take a brief break before I actually dive into my techniques worksheet and Mock Counseling Reflection paper...

jeepers yikes eeps

[babyfreakdreamerwombat]

Grad Grad School journey

Grad school journey practicum part three

Well, a'fter having a nice holiday break on Wednesday next week, I will start my spring semester of the 2020 2023 academic year after taking an incomplete for the first attempt at practicum, I went back and tried a second time this fall to try and pass the practicum portion of my cores work, but after having students who were not interested in counseling, even after they had committed to the process and struggling with my own issues with anxiety and PTSD both of which I am being treated for now with the help of antidepressants and anxiety medication and psychological therapy. I still wasn’t able to pass the practicum this fall so I will attempt to again only this time instead of doing practicum remotely via zoom I will do it in person at the University and hopefully the third time is the charm, because like most instances in my life I have to prove to my practicum professor that I can pass the course and become A counselor he has already floated the idea that I Forget about GradSchool and just get a job in human services, but most of the jobs I would be able to get would be in case management and I’ve already held a position like that and I did not like it. I am used to the same song and dance in which people underestimate my abilities which is fine although it gets old, I just must prove individuals wrong I know I will become a counselor it will just take me a little longer to achieve the goal. I’ve already received feedback from my professor on what he is looking for me to pass . Which is allowing my clients the opportunity to Drive their own session instead of me, taking over their session by talking over them or interrupting their thought process which, according to my therapist, that is something that all therapist struggle with. It takes practice.