#been having exams and presentations basically every week

[iamhellborn]

Seen a lot of MarlonKong post lately and somehow they remind me of PhayuRain from the Thai BL “Love in the air”

I actually have no reason why they remind me of MarlonKong. Personality wise they’re not even that similar. I guess Phayu (on the right) is a bit similar to Kong in the way that he’s hard towards everyone except for Rain, just like Kong has a soft spot for Marlon. Marlon, however, has no similarities to Rain (who’s basically a dumber version of Raban lol). I guess the reason they I find them similar is because the way PhayuRain show affection towards each other is pretty MarlonKong coded.

I think this edit proves my point (not mine btw)

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[qqueenofhades]

hi I hope you don't mind but I would love to hear your long tired historian rant you mentioned in your tags on that one post, if you feel in the mood to share? (no pressure!)

(also thank you for existing, you do wonderful work and the world is a better place for you being in it)

Aha. Well. For context, the mention of said rant was in relation to this post:

Basically, this post struck a nerve because of how it exactly encapsulates the anti-intellectual, anti-academia, anti-historical, anti-reality thinking that is absolutely rampant in social media spaces, even and especially spaces that identify as leftist, liberal, or otherwise "superior" to the right wing when it comes to identifying fake news or misinformation. (Example A: anything ever written by a self-proclaimed leftist on Twitter.) We all know that there are huge problems with the American public school system (and the people writing this are almost always American) and the American practice of education in general, and that yes, there are many things that happened in the past (or y'know, the present!) that are not taught very well, or at all. But because the American public school system is so decentralized and largely autonomous, incredibly dependent on the temperament of local superintendents and/or school boards, taxation and funding, availability of teachers, requirement of useless standardized tests, etc., it is very difficult (if not outright impossible) to claim that this is the result of a Unified Grand Conspiracy To Not Teach Real History To The Youth In Order To Make Them Mindlessly Support Capitalism. That is the exact sort of deranged conspiratorial thinking that the right wing does and fits everything into a sinister narrative about how "They" are planning to keep you ignorant and therefore nothing harmful that you ever think or do is really your fault. It's not good.

(Whoosh. That was very calm and reasonable of me. For the rest of this post, please just picture Captain Holt "apparently that's a trigger for me" dot gif.)

Also: even in public school, and despite the Republicans' best efforts, there are plenty of opportunities to study complex or "controversial" subjects. For example, I spend a week every June grading AP Euro History exams with a lot of other educators in a giant windowless steel box (woo-hoo, fun times!) Every year, there are questions on the exam about women's rights, imperialism and exploitation, slavery/race relations, the development of capitalism and the current economic model, religion and science, the history of labor, and other topics that would be considered "controversial" if you're an idiot. This is an exam taken by high school students in all grades from across the country, and there are also AP World History and APUSH (US history) exams every year which are doubtless making an effort to address similar themes. This is an advanced program, yes, but it's widely available to many schools and is not a result of a sinister plot to keep the youth from discovering the truth. Also: you live in an era of absolutely unprecedented access to information. Put down the ChatGPT bullshit generator and visit a goddamn public library. Or even open Wikipedia. The tools are there for you to start educating yourself and they are so easy to find!!!!!

The "Historians Are Hiding The Truth!!!" narrative becomes even more ridiculous in university-level or professional academic historical-study spaces, especially when historical educators and associations (such as the American Historical Association) have been at the forefront of pushing back against right-wing efforts to censor history, punish teachers, and remove culture-war subjects from classrooms. Also as someone who has advanced degrees in history, has taught/worked in several universities in different countries, writes and publishes historical research, and otherwise participates professionally in the field: trust me, we aren't "hiding" shit. There are vigorous debates and disagreements on various bogglingly obscure subjects and points of clarification and so forth, but that doesn't mean we're not talking about them (trust me, we're often talking about them too much). If you're issuing confident blanket statements about how "historians are conspiring to hide x," you're an idiot.

This also has dangerous repercussions in the field of, say, politics and civics, where a lot of absolutely braindead Online Leftists have spent the last four years posting deranged nonsense on social media and then, whenever they're called out on it for that not actually being how anything works at all, whining that "I was never taught this!!!" (And yet, it somehow never actually changes their perspective or their theories....) They whine about how "they didn't know this" and it was someone else's fault, they make up total fantasy about what the Biden administration did or should have done and now are still happy about Trump coming back because "It will teach the Democrats a lesson!!!" and otherwise accelerating us oh-so-quickly down that slippery slippery fascism slope. Their weaponized ignorance and their magical fantasies about what "should" have happened often come back to this same learned helplessness, where it's everyone else's fault (especially Capitalism's) that they're total wankers. Look: I'm not a goddamn fan of capitalism either. But we all grew up in this same system, and some of us aren't raving idiots, so at some point, you have to take the tiniest modicum of personal responsibility for the information you seek out, the content you consume, the opinions you propagate, and the people you surround yourself with. Shocking.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, Online Leftists are actively and unrepentantly enabling American fascism and should be treated in the same way as we treat MAGA when it comes to deciding what is good or worthwhile information. This is because their entire political philosophy (insofar as their beliefs can be dignified with the term) is based on the "make shit up and remove it from any basic empirical references, grounding in reality, or 'should I run the most basic Google search and see if I'm completely talking out of my ass in a distorted social media echo chamber? Nah I'm good' " technique. This is, as the original tweet above references, trying to retcon sheer malicious laziness and stupidity into grand ideological theories about how it's actually "better" that they don't know a damn thing and won't shut up. It's your evil history teacher's fault, or "academics are all rich and elitist" (ask any academic-precariat person like me and we will laugh hollowly and then throw monkey poop at you), or "They" wouldn't let you learn this, or on and on. Even in our terrible, awful, no-good very-bad timeline, there are still ample tools to educate yourself, to learn how to filter out bad information and junk news, and otherwise gird yourself even a little for the even-more-massive assault on empirical reality that we are about to experience in the next four years (ugh). I suggest you take advantage of them.

[sehunniepotwrites]

WITH YOU | MK.L | THREE

SYNOPSIS. There are many things Mark Lee wants to do with you. He wants to walk you home. He wants to dive into the deep blue sea with you. He wants to go on a drive with you at his side. But mostly, this crazy, head over heels in love boy just wants to make it with you.

PAIRING. mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE. college!au, friends-to-lovers!au, tooth-rotting fluff, humor WARNINGS. profanity, sulky!mark because he failed his exam and lost a game, mention of (non-alcoholic) drinks, mentions of creeper guy that doesn't get a damn hint

WORD COUNT. 1.2k+

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters or concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work. © sehunniepotwrites, 2023

I. WALK YOU HOME | II. DIVE INTO YOU | III. DRIVE | IV. MAKE IT WITH YOU

Mark Lee having a bad day was a rare commodity. The athlete was seldom seen with his brown eyes aimed to the floor and a frown stitched onto his face. No, he was usually spotted with a bright sparkle in his irises, a grin that was way too wide for his small and handsome face, his hockey gear tucked in under his arm, and most importantly, you. 

Maybe that was the stark difference between Mark’s drastic moods. You weren’t present at the home game that just finished. On top of it being midterms week, an ultimate stressor on its own, you skipped out on today’s game in favor of finishing a midterm project with a partner that may or may not have been putting some moves on you. Hearing that news after basically bombing his Biology exam that was worth twenty perfect of his grade just added onto his sullen behavior. Instead of focusing on the game, Mark’s mind was void of the strategized plays and off the ice, floating all the way down to the campus library–where you were.

Mark really shouldn’t be upset. He should’ve been proud that you put your grades first instead of a game. After all, you weren’t a student athlete; this game shouldn’t mean a thing to you.  But it was his game. You were his lucky charm. You always have been and you always will be. 

Sure, others showed up to the games with his number painted onto their cheeks in their university colors and poster boards that displayed his name but they weren’t you. You weren’t the one in the crowd with the pretty, mismatched ribbons in their hair or screaming his name as he scored a goal. You weren’t there, drowning in his away game jersey like you usually were. You were drowning in school work with a guy that would not leave you alone. 

“It’s fine,” you said. “I just have to stick it out until the end of the week and it’ll be okay. I notified my professor and we’re meeting up in their office so I’m not left alone with the guy.”

“Yeah but–”

“Go and score a goal for me,” you hushed Mark, pressing a manicured finger to his lips when he tried to push back. “Promise?”

Mark’s frown grew. “But–”

“Ah,” you replied, adding more pressure to his lips. Raising your free hand, you brought your pinky towards him. “Promise?”

Mark sighed in defeat, linking his pinky with yours. He shook your intertwined hands. “Promise.”

Knowing you won, you grinned. “That’s my Marky. Now, go! I’ll see you tomorrow! You’ll be fine without me.”

But he wasn’t. 

And it’s sad how reliant on you Mark became. Before you, he could fully function on his own. Now? Mark was seen with you more often than not. You were like an extension of him, something he couldn’t live without. His teammates and friends noticed it; Haechan wouldn’t let Mark go a day without teasing him on the ice. Johnny, who wasn’t on the team, often made a lot of noise during games to let Mark know exactly where the two of you sat. And Jaehyun, bless his soul, always explained the technicalities of the sport so you understood each and every play-by-play in order to cheer Mark on.

He wasn’t fine before, during, or after the game and all he could think about was you. Nothing else mattered but you. 

To top off this horrible day, they lost the game. There were definitely other factors that contributed to the loss but the most defining one was that Mark’s head wasn’t in it. He tried taking your mind off of you but quickly deemed it impossible. Even after he showered, lugged his sorry ass out of the hockey arena and into his car, his mind was still glued to the thought of you. Driving aimlessly around campus didn’t help and before he knew it, Mark’s hands fiddled with his dashboard screen until your number was dialed.

Two rings later and he heard your voice. “Hey,” you greeted, voice booming from the speakers. Your voice was soft unlike the other times you answered the phone–a lot gentler, like he needed to be approached with caution.

“Hi,” Mark mustered out before going silent again. All the two of you could hear were the sounds on the road.

“What’s going on?” you asked with that same soothing voice. 

You knew what happened. You weren’t there to witness the losing game but word travels fast. Johnny and Jaehyun called you shortly after the game, relaying an abbreviated version of the game while escaping the disappointed crowd. They made it known that Mark was off his game the entire time. Your friends made a light joke, saying it was because you weren’t there, and pointing out how he seemed different whenever you were in attendance. You brushed off their teasing but assured them you would check on your best friend. 

But despite knowing, you wanted the news to come from Mark. If he didn’t want to talk about it, that was okay with you too. You could practically hear him shrugging as he replied, “Dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

Noticing that Mark was so close to shutting down completely, you answered, “Well, I’m always down to see you. Care for a drive, Marky?”

He caught the sound of rustling from your ride and figured you were rushing to get ready before he arrived. The arena was a mere seven minute drive from your housing complex, not giving you much time to get yourself together at all. Prior to him calling, you were most likely nestled up under your comforter, adorning your favorite pair of sweats and oversized hoodie to keep you warm. Mark wanted to say that you didn’t have to change, but knowing his best friend, you’d probably ignore whatever he said. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I need.”

“I’ll see you in a few then,” you said with finality before hanging up the phone.

A few minutes later, Mark pulled up to your complex, only to find you already downstairs. You didn’t come empty handed, the drink tumbler he always used when he was over at your place in one hand and your tumbler in the other. He reached over the console to open the passenger door for you and you immediately slid in, handing him his cup. 

“Hey you,” you smiled at him before pressing a short kiss to his cheek. Whereas he caught you off guard the last time you went to the beach, his soft lips grazing against your cheek, it was your turn to surprise him. The action shocked him so much, he almost dropped the steaming drink in hand.

“H-hey,” Mark stuttered a bit pathetically, swiftly turning his attention to his tumbler. Bringing it up to his lips, he tasted his favorite comfort drink–hot cocoa with whip cream and marshmallows. The temperature was a bit too hot, the liquid burning his tongue after having a lick of melted whip cream, but he didn’t dare complain. He took another sip of it before putting it down and shifting the gear to drive. 

The drive itself wasn’t necessary to Mark, he already felt a bit better in your presence as you buckled your seatbelt. 

It’s you—you’re what he needed. You’re what he wanted. And you’re the one person that would always bring a smile to his face. It didn’t feel right to admit it to you now, not when he was just sulking in all of his sorrows. Maybe another time or place. But for now, Mark was content with you in his passenger seat and his hands on the wheel, ready to go anywhere as long as you were at his side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hi, it's been a while, hasn't it? i'm slowly writing again, starting with finishing all the drafts that have been sitting in my docs for a hot second! my writing style's change a bit so don't mind the stylistic changes (if you even notice it). i apologize it's short but i didn't have much planned for this one. it's just marky sitting in his thoughts.

TAGLIST. @johtenrecs @bat-shark-repellant  @bebsky @donutswithjaminthemiddle @suhnnyskhies @baekhyuns-lipchain @emmybyeakitty  @sokkigarden @iwishiwasthemoontonight @stvrrynight @ppangjae @luvenshiti @ferxanda @jenosuh​ @mxrcayong-main @lebrookestore​ @the-universe-in-you-jjh @planetkiimchi @hannie-dul-set @kdyism @lovesuhng

reply to this post or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

© sehunniepotwrites, 2023

[maraudersmrz]

FANTASIST

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

smut, smut anddd more smut

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Hey Guys !! This is my first post in a long long while BUT I was thinking of a scenario and I have to share it 🤭

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W/A: Mature Content, Use Of Objects

Summary: Remus Lupin and you were mundane, boring and ordinary in bed. That was until a silly game sparked something.

-

You wouldn’t call yourself a fantasist, not in any sense of the word. It had never even occurred to you that maybe you lack something in the bedroom until a silly game of ‘honest truths’ in this Gryfindor common room last week. This was a game in which one person would start by selecting a ‘victim’ in the circle and asking them an absurd question in which they had to answer honestly. Failure to do so resulted in a harsh shot of fire whiskey. Unfortunately for you, James picked on you during this game, keen to discover more about his roommate Lupin’s new girlfriend. It’s to James that you exposed you’d never had a wild bedroom fantasy.

Sure there were things that crossed your mind or you’d considered trying out but there was never a craving for something, never something you itched to do. Since that night, you have been hyper aware that you’re rather quite boring and prefer the mundane when it comes to sex. It’s easier to navigate that way. Usually this wouldn’t be an issue for you but you weren’t only fretting for your pleasure but your boyfriends. Remus Lupin. He also was not a fantasist and preferred the basics in the bed. He is not a ‘freak in the sheets’ as James referred to him but you did wonder if there was something he wanted to do. An itch he couldn’t scratch because of you.

You were sat in bed, a beaten herbology book resting skillfully on your lap as you were accompanied by Remus. You had exams in a few weeks and you really needed to knuckle down and study or there was no chance you’d pass and that meant being held behind a year, you couldn’t fall victim to that again. Remus truly is an angel as he offered to help you out, he’s skilled in the herbology department and teaches you well. He’s gentle and understanding and something about that gets you a certain way. The way his glasses sit askew on his pretty nose and his slender fingers occasionally appearing from beneath the pages of his book to push his glasses up. It wasn’t a fantasy of course, just mere fleeting thoughts.

These fleeting thoughts were causing you trouble. A deep discomfort stirred in your stomach and a wetness appeared in your panties, thighs clenching to cover the wet patch you knew was visible from Remus’s angle on the bed. You couldn’t have him knowing you were wet over some silly thoughts at a study session. He’d think you silly. Your nipples pressed through your thin white shirt, the lack of bra you were wearing now prominent. The brushing of the fabric against the flushed skin was ethereal.

“Monkey, you invited me over to your dorm to study and yet I’ve not seen you write a single word on that parchment of yours” his lips slightly curl as he says it, almost mocking you for the thoughts you were having. Not that he was aware of them.

“Sorry Rem, mind was in the gutter, I’m listening ‘promise” your cheeks began to flush at the thought of Remus watching your every facial expression as you imagine his- no let’s not go there again.

“Doesn’t seem that way doll. You seem distracted, what’s bothering you sweetheart?” His tone of voice was velvet soft, comforting and warm like a mother’s warm embrace but yet you sensed something in it, something different.

You decided there was no better time than the present to speak to Remus about what was bothering you, that way you could gather your reassurance and leave it in the past.

“I’ve been thinking recently about that game in the common room, James exposing me for being a boring bastard just can’t leave my head. I can’t help but feel I’m stopping you from something. It’s silly I know” You don’t look at him as you spill your mind, eye contact with Remus is intense and you aren’t ready to entertain that just yet. Remus stays silent, he stares at your expression a while, picking apart your features to determine what route he should take. Reassure you first or speak his mind?

“Sweetheart, you’ve never stopped me from doing anything. Ive been stopping myself, in all honesty there’s things I’ve wanted and I haven’t asked. I’ve been too scared because I know we often fall into the basics. I don’t want to ruin what we have already going for the sake of trying something foreign”. Your ears perk up at this, eyes finding Remus’s as you stare at each other, neither knowing what to say next.

“I want to try new things” you mutter. This is all he needs to hear before he’s pushing his book off the bed, ink and quill falling with it to land on the wooden floor somewhere beneath you. That’s a problem for later. Remus pulls at the skin on your hips rather harshly promoting you to come towards him. You clamber onto his lap facing him as your lips interlock in a hurried kiss. No words are spoken as his dainty fingers reach for the hem of your fraying top that he pulls over your head. Only breaking the kiss to get it off before he’s hungrily chasing your lips again.

“Lay down and wait for me” he whispers hurriedly and you do without question, pushing yourself off of his lap and onto the plush mattress beneath as Remus leaves the four poster bed to retrieve something from the corner by the door. He turns around, wand in hand and locks eyes with you as he stalks towards your vulnerable body. His eyes are hungry, starving almost and white rings adorn his knuckles as he grips his wand. You expected him to place a silencing spell around the bed as he had done many times before but he doesn’t lift his wand. He stands at the base of the bed, pupils trailing over your form as you lay on the bed, awaiting his next move.

Your eyes brush over his body, the tent in his pants and strain in his forearms. He turns his wand around, handle now facing you and crawls onto the bed until he reaches you. His hands are quick, pulling down the skirt you’re wearing leaving only your thigh high socks on.

“You ready sweetheart? You gonna let me take control?” His voice was husky, almost strangled. A mere nod from you was consent enough for Remus as he takes the handle of his wand and brushes between your lips with it. He teases your clit, using the bulb at the end of his wand to cause some friction. You jerk at the feeling of the polished, cold wood. Remus smirks at this and continues driving it up and down your folds in a gentle and teasing manner. He applied just enough pressure to feel it but not enough for you to feel it.

Eventually he grows bored, the teasing only drew exasperated whines from you causing him to push his edge of his wand more towards your throbbing hole. He inches it in, just a few centimeters, just enough to get a taste before withdrawing it again.

“Rem, please” you had never begged Remus before, you never needed to. He gave you whatever you asked for. He said he felt horrible depriving you of something but all that seemed to fly out of the window as he’s on your bed, teasing you so slowly with his fucking wand. He pressed it to your hole again, only he doesn’t go in. He finds the skin between your hole and ass and presses it there instead. This draws a long moan from you.

He finally pulls the wand up and enters your sopping hole. He pushes an inch in, observes your reaction and tries another.

This doesn’t satisfy you.

7 inches of Remus Lupins wand is now buried in your pussy, occasionally being ripped away so Remus can taste what he’s collected on his wand before plummeting it right back in. You have never felt anything like this. Where on earth did Remus drag this out from? You’d never seen such a side of him. He was power hungry. He watched your pussy like a starving man and moaned desperately at the squelching sounds filling the room. He was enjoying this and yet his cock was untouched.

Remus was absolutely feral. You could get used to this.

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A/N: I have absolutely no idea what to do with this and it’s probably NASTY but idk 😭

[heylittleriotact]

WIP Whenever

@razildor @pseudospaceship @xxnashiraxx have tagged me over the past few days, and I've been so busy/tired that I haven't been able to sit down and actually work on anything, which is weird for me. I'm sad my output has dwindled and will for the next little bit due to work stuff, but c'est la vie - it's better to not have time to write than to have time to do it and be plagued with writer's block so I'll take what I can get.

It seems like springtime has brought out the horny in many of us in the Emmrook fandom, and I'm over here writing intensely emotional conversations about death and grief, but if you know me, that comes as no surprise.

Anyway, here's a little bit of what I'm working on for the next chapter of i heard people are dying to get in here. I've got more smut prompts I need to work on too (thanks for sending them in if you did - I will get to them... it's just gonna take some time.)

No tags: if you see this, please post your wip and tag me so I can snoop it <3

Wintersend Eve

The holiday season wasn't particularly relaxing when you worked at a funeral home, as it turned out. In fact, it was statistically the busiest time of the year: the frail and elderly were more likely to succumb to death's call when the conditions were cold and bleak. Inclement weather made for icy roads and parking lots, so there were more fatal car accidents and falls. The worst part of all was the notable uptick in suicides and overdoses around this time of year: the holidays really seemed to be a breaking point some people, and every time during the week leading up to Wintersend when a new call came in where the decedent was resting at the medical examiner, Rook felt sad.

Sad for the person who had left. Sad for their family who would forever have to navigate this time of year while being reminded of the tragedy associated with it.

Taking vacation time around Wintersend was basically unheard of at McDermott & Rafferty: in order to keep up with the higher than normal call volume, only a certain number of staff were permitted time off over the entire month, and those available dates were snatched up within hours of the calendar rolling over in the new year.

Rook was fortunate that due to the rotation of her schedule and sheer luck, she'd manage to swing an extra day off after Wintersend, which then rolled into her normal weekend off, so she ended up with four glorious days off in a row.

McDermott & Rafferty was open three-hundred and sixty-four days of the year, open for all other statutory holidays, with the only exception being the day of Wintersend. Even then, it operated on a skeleton crew of staff: one person in the call centre, two transfer drivers to be available to remove any decedents from where they passed away, and two funeral directors on call, each taking one half of the day, should anyone urgently wish to speak with a funeral director.

Emmrich had graciously offered to cover the first half of Wintersend until noon. After that, Leigh Ernesto would take over, and the regular on-call schedule would resume.

Rook wasn't crazy about the fact that their first Wintersend morning together would be soberly spent within arm's reach of Emmrich's cellphone, rather than wrapped around each other and indulging in mimosas and sweet rolls while thick fluffy snowflakes fell outside, but it was the nature of the profession, and she was grateful to be spending it with him at all. Besides, once he was no longer on call, he had the same days off as Rook.

“Joan asked me yesterday if you’d met my parents.” She mentioned from her place at the end of the couch where she was scrolling her phone, half reading through key studying points for her upcoming final exam, half-watching the TV where black and white re-runs of Alfred Hitchcock Presents flickered on the screen.

“Did she?” He mused, flipping the page of his book and returning to massaging her feet in his lap.

“Yeah - I told her you got in a huge fight with them and kicked my dad’s ass.”

Emmrich tutted, “I really wish you wouldn’t tell our colleagues such outlandish things, darling - wasn’t it awkward enough to have to sit down with Perry and sign that Consensual Relationship Agreement last week?”

By the time they both arrived at work on Monday after the party - separately - it became rapidly apparent that everyone at McDermott & Rafferty had learned of their relationship somehow over the course of the weekend.

‘Spotted leaving the party together and looking very cozy while doing so’ was the rumour that had circulated the ranks of all hundred-odd staff members in less time than it took for an Amazon delivery.

The source of the rumour was unclear - it had travelled so quickly through so many channels that getting to the root of it proved nearly impossible - not like it mattered: they had left the party together and they were very cozy. Denying it would only open the door to further embellishments and outright fabrications: the last thing Rook wanted to be doing was damage control on some bullshit nonsense about she and Emmrich fucking in a hearse or something.

“I mean if people want to keep asking me questions about my personal, off-the-clock life, they’re welcome to,” Rook snorted, “That doesn’t mean I have to tell them the truth - it’s none of their fucking business. I’ll keep making up increasingly insane shit until they get the point.”

She brushed the ball of her free foot over the front of Emmrich’s pants, pleased when his relaxed frame stiffened at the feeling of her toes on his flaccid cock: she knew exactly what she was doing with the flippant little movement.

“Besides—” she continued, “Joan knows you well enough to know that a bare-knuckle brawl with your girlfriend’s dad is the last thing you’d be pulled into: it was just my special, polite little way of telling her to fuck off.”

"I admit I do feel better not having to be quite so secretive about things." He drank from his cup of tea, and Rook reached for her glass of wine on the coffee table next to her: red, intense, and pricier than anything she could ever justify buying. "I just worry that some see it as..." he hesitated.

"Inappropriate?" Rook finished for him before taking sip and setting her glass back down. "The cradle-robbing creeper used his position of power and authority over the young doe-eyed nymph and seduced her while continuing to exercise that position of power in a way that puts her at a disadvantage?"

Emmrich's cheeks reddened, "I wouldn't put it quite so bluntly, but–"

"But what? You're hardly in any 'powerful' position: you're not my boss or my supervisor - as far as hierarchy flowcharts go at McDermott & Rafferty we're basically on the same level, the only difference is you get paid more and deal with more bullshit. The only real power imbalance that anyone could point out would be the fact that you teach one of my embalming classes–"

"Precisely, and–"

"– and I won't even have the prerequisite course completed so I can sign up for that one until later next year," Rook forged on. "We've already chatted about it: you'll go on leave for that semester, and someone else will fill in for you while I'm taking the course so there's no conflict of interest. You've already talked to the program director about it, and been forthcoming, so there's literally no reason for anyone to act fucking weird about it."

He got tangled up like this some times, she had learned: left to sit with his own thoughts for too long, he'd get lost in hypotheticals and 'what ifs' and outcomes that were well beyond his control: they had talked about this - at least three times - each time leading to the same outcome: it was going to be alright and no one was going to put him on a registry that precluded him from being within five-hundred yards of a school. He hadn't done anything wrong: Rook was a consenting adult who was interested in bouncing on his cock because she enjoyed it, not because he had somehow tricked her into it.

"Rook..." he began solemnly, closing the book and setting it down.

"Emmrich," she retorted.

Something was bothering him - she could tell by the slight knit of his brow, and the way his mouth turned down at the corners, his eyes introspective and searching for something unseen.

"What's actually on your mind?" She prodded. "We've been over this so many times, I'm beginning to think you're using it as a front for something else."

His eyes drifted to his lap: her feet across it and his book. His palm whispered over the cover as if trying to soothe the inanimate object made of wood-pulp and ink.

"It's a personal question for many of us, so I don't ask it lightly: what inspired you to pursue the funeral profession, darling?"

[nevertheless-moving]

stormlight au number 35 (help me i'm lost in the sauce)

Jasnah, Dalinar, and Renarin (surviving Kholin Radiants) travel from End of World all the way to right after Gavilar's death.

Vengeance pact still happens, but plays out very differently. We don't need absolutely every man in the kingdom to join the army, alright Elhokar? And we're making sure Dalinar is there to accept their surrender, actually win in reasonable time frame and 'conquer' them (no Alethi want to live out there anyway, and as long as they send gemhearts in tribute we won't enslave them. actually elhokar, your sister wanted to talk to you about slavery—).

Honestly, just an excuse for:

A) Adolin to have a breakdown that his entire family has been replaced by voidbringers, before eventually accepting with relief that they're still his family, they've just become voidbringers, but its ok because he loves them and will protect their increasingly heretical actions with his life. Hugs his glowing red and green eyed little brother a lot.

Adolin: do I — should I also learn to read?

Jasnah: do you want to?

Adolin: not really, no.

Renarin: to be honest, it's probably for the best if you just focus on being, well, a good Vorin Alethi. One of us probably should be, if we don't have a desolation as a distraction.

Adolin: ok! sure! I can do that. Also thought id mention that if possible, I would personally appreciate *not* having a desolation.

Jasnah: it may prove necessary.

Adolin: I know, i know. Just thought I'd put my feelings out there.

Dalinar: and we'll need you to produce Kholin heirs. Neither Renarin or Jasnah are likely to, and I'm not remarrying a younger woman.

Adolin: Sounds good!

B) Kholin family to have way too strong a reaction to this random darkeyed surgeon in training when they visit Kharbranth, scaring the absolute shit out of said darkeyed surgeon. Adolin walks into a wall when he sees Kaladin. He doesn't even know about the Radiant thing, it's just that

C) Kaladin dresses really hot in this au. Ok. I lied. this is actually the main reason for this au. It — there's a whole chain of events. I – don't look at me like that. The character development works, alright?

A lot of it boils down to distracting people from groping the female medical trainees.

He realizes that breathing in a certain way, while it makes you focus better and move faster, it also makes you more...present somehow? people pay attention to you, for better or worse. Some of the ladies teach him that there are different ways to channel people's focus on you, if they're looking anyway.

And apparently, for the first few years Kharbranth medical students, light and dark eyed alike, have basically no protections from wealthy patients or Lighteyed chief's of staff who are a bit too interested in teaching you to use your safehand, and its not like Kaladin can challenge them to a duel - he doesnt know how to fight, and it would get him and the person hes trying to protect kicked out of the program. So much for honorable lighteyes being real.

But I mean. If wearing some eyeliner, and a gemstone in your hair, if taking your right glove off first after an exam, conspicuously leaving the left on while talking, if bending over to pick his clipboard up in a certain way... if it gets people to not focus on his friends...

...one could probably get pretty angsty with this concept, ngl.

The Stormlight understanding and oaths come in time. There might also be some Radiant Disguise Superhero hijinks, havent fully decided but it's not really a major stretch from canon to say that Kharbranth struggles with violent crime. Also Kaladin gets to learn about institutional racism in school. It's great. I have a lot of Kaladin thoughts but so does everyone in this au so its ok.

Kholins visit Kharbranth:

Jasnah: you've been moping for days. Is your new fixation of the week not responding to your advances?

Adolin: I don't want to talk about it

Dalinar: son, you've clearly been in a mood—

Adolin: look, I'm not — the individual is not suitable for my station, alright? I'm not courting someone I could never actually marry, because that would be stupid.

Jasnah: while it would complicate matters, you know your brother and I have plans to alter the alethi codes around eye color, considering they're clearly a crude derivative of radiant mythologization

Dalinar: I thought we agreed that was low on the priority list

Jasnah: You said that uncle, Renarin most certainly did not agree, and his arguments are sound

Adolin: He's just some surgeon, alright! He's not just darkeyed, he's a darkeyed man. I said I'll get over it! I always do.

Dalinar: ah.

Jasnah: ...did you say surgeon?

Adolin: Yes? Why?

Dalinar: why does it —

Jasnah: how did you meet?

Adolin: He was — he was with this group of women at a winebar, and he was dressed like – but it turned out he just goes to protect them from - and it was so — why are you asking me about this?

Dalinar: Oh! A darkeyed surgeon. Protecting, you say? He sounds...honorable.

Jasnah: Very honorable.

Adolin: He is! He volunteers at this house for injured soldiers, and you wouldn't believe he'd never been to war, I mean his spear Katas — he's – it's like he was born for it —

Dalinar: He sounds like a fine young man. Perhaps you should bring him to meet us.

Adolin: I — while I appreciate that father, I really do, I thought I was the one who was supposed to well. I mean my role in...all of this is to produce heirs and look proper, right?

Jasnah: Hm. when you put it it that way...

Dalinar: I mean, Navani and I might be able to...

Jasnah: Don't be ridiculous. I'm perfectly capable of producing a child, should it prove absolutely necessary,

Adolin: Jasnah?

Jasnah: Provided the man you're courting is of worthy quality.

Adolin: We're not — I haven't been courting! I didn't think it was an option! I don't even know if he's interested! From what I can tell he has people throwing themselves at his feet all the time!

Jasnah: An abnormally honorable darkeyed surgeon, natural warrior, magnetically charismatic personality...yes that might make a worthwhile addition to the family.

Dalinar: I can write to Elhokar at once, recommend that he and Aseuden —

Jasnah: Uncle we've been over this — this is exactly the sort of thing that led to me insisting you come with me on this trip! If we cripple his ability to lead—

Adolin: Are we — are we moving into the discussing the future part of the evening, because I can go guard the door—

Dalinar: wait, when you say produce a child, you don't mean through soulcasting, right?

Jasnah: I don't see why I should answer that question.

Adolin: Yeah, i'm just going to go guard the door now

[the-fiction-witch]

Favourite Patient

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet

Requested I don't exactly know how to leave a request but I'm assuming I'm just supposed to comment. I was wondering if you could do one about Y/n being a patient at the hospital. I don't know what would happen but I just think it would be cool. ❤️

I sat on the bed, pouting. 

I wanted to go home, I thought all of this was stupid. 

Merely an overreaction. 

"This is dumb."

"Y/n!" My mother snapped at me across the room, 

"It is!"

"Will you please just let the doctor look over you,"

"Can I go home when he tells you there's nothing wrong with me?"

"If he says so then yes." 

"Fine." I rolled my eyes, 

Soon enough the door opened to one of the doctors, the younger one, I hadn't met him yet, and frankly I didn't want to. 

"Good Afternoon, you must be Miss Y/l/n," He smiled at me, 

"Umm." 

"Alright, well going on then?" He asked sitting on the bed, 

I glared a little and moved my leg to put some space between us "Nothing,"

"Nothing?"

"Y/n!" My mother snapped, "Tell the doctor." 

"There's nothing wrong with me, I'm not wasting his time."

"That's very sweet of you," He smiled, "But tell me anyway, I'd rather you waste five minutes of my time to tell me you have a tummy ache than not tell me it's something serious." 

"It's nothing." I sighed,

"Oh for-" My mother began before she simply told him what was wrong with me, 

"Ah... that is serious." He said sounding concerned, 

"Oh for no! it's not that serious really." I complained 

"If you wouldn't mind waiting outside Mrs Y/l/n,"

"Yes doctor" She nodded as she took her bag and left, leaving me alone with this doctor. 

For a moment neither of us spoke merely engaging in a staring contest, which I had to look away from first. Which only made him smirk. 

"Is that true?"

"No, I-"

"Is it. true?"

"Yes." I sighed,

"Alright, I'll need to keep you in for a week under observation we haven't had any change in that time then I'll give you a full exam-"

"No, you bloody well will not."

"Yes. I will. and if I find what I'm gonna be honest I'm already suspecting then you'll need surgery."

"Ohh for- It's not that bad really." 

"If you do. and you don't have surgery you'll die."

"and if I don't? If I don't and you being overly cautious put me through a surgery I do not need."

"Miss Y/l/n. Surgery is expensive, time-consuming, dangerous, I'm not going to put you through a surgery you don't need." He said, "But as a doctor, I can't let you walk out of here with the knowledge there could be a literal bomb inside you waiting to go off." He snapped, "Now. Miss Y/l/n, Let me investigate. Please." 

"Fine." I snapped,

"Good girl," he smiled, he took some tools and did a very basic check of things "Yes as I suspected. But we still need to keep you in to be sure." He said 

"And if I don't want to stay?"

He glared a little as he moved away, "Then legally speaking I can handcuff you to the bed, so are you staying willingly or am I getting the keys?"

"Fine."

"Good girl," he smiled, "I get this feeling you're very quickly going to become my favourite patient" He winked, "Name for the paperwork?"

"Y/n."

"A very beautiful name, Dr Dawkins. I'll be checking in on you daily and I'll make sure the nurse gives you lots of fluids and a comfy pillow" He smiled, "I'll see you later y/n." 

He took his things and left the room to explain things to my mother, I just huffed and pouted angrily. 

I had been here for three days and already I was bored out of my mind, every day Dr. Dawkins would pop in and check up on me sometimes even more than that but still I was just pouting and complaining wanting to go home, 

"Aww, There's my favourite patient." He smiled as he arrived at my room, "Hi Y/n."

"Hello Dr Dawkins,"

"I brought you a present?" 

"What?" I rolled my eyes,

"Ah ah. No. you don't get your present until you smile."

I sighed and forced a smile, "Good girl," He smiled coming fully inside my room, "Extra jelly," he enticed setting an extra jelly cup on my table, 

"I thought it was one a day that's the rules?"

"It is, but... Between you and me." He winked, "I snagged it for you when I went past the kitchens" He smiled,

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome, anything to cheery that grumpy butt up" He laughed, "Now. any change?"

"Nope."

"Anything at all?"

"Nope."

"Alright, I might have to check you again."

"Again!"

"I need to check. if nothing improves I am going to have to book you in for surgery and you know both of us don't want that,"

"Fine." I sighed letting him check again, for what felt like the tenth time in three days.  

"Alright, rest up I'll come back and see you before bed."

"Alright." I sighed,

"Good girl," he smiled before he left again. 

I had been here now for six days and I was only getting angrier and angrier, I didn't want to be here, but  he knew I had been trying to just walk out so make sure to look my door, I didn't want surgery and I knew he'd make me get it so I was attempting to climb out the window of my room, but just as I got halfway out, He opened the door.

"Are you breaking out?" 

"...no,"

"so what are you doing then?"

"...Yes. I was."

"Go on then." He smirked leaning on my bed, 

"I may have misjudged this."

"You think? attempting to escape out a third-story window?"

"I was going to walk across the ledge and go down the drainpipe."

"And in your condition that would certainly be a marvel,"

"Ohh shut up Doctor."

"You want help getting back in?"

"No. I'm fine."

"climbing out the window is not getting you out of surgery y/n. I know where you live we will just pick you up and bring you back."

"Who said I was going home?"

He rolled his eyes and came over picking me up and putting me back in bed, "stay." He demanded before going and locking my window, "You really are my favourite patient. even if you annoy the hell out of me." He smiled, "Now, get some rest I've booked your surgery in for tomorrow morning." 

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." 

"Do I really have to?"

"Yes." He laughed, "I'll be gentle I promise" he smiled before he headed out again. 

I hated doing this but I had little of a choice, I was taken to the theatre and laid on a table with Dr. Dawkins over me.

"You alright?" He asked,

"Not really..."

"I know it's scary, But I promise I won't hurt my favourite patient." he smiled "Just go to sleep and I promise when you wake up this will all be over." He reassured kissing my forehead before gently resting the mask on my face, I slowly breathed it in and the world darkened until I slipped into sleep. 

I woke in the little hospital bed, tucked up tightly in the covers, with Dr Dawkins sitting in the chair beside my bed watching over me. "Awww, Hello. How's my favourite patient?"

"everything hurts."

"It will for a while," he smiled, "but it's all over. all done. you're all better."

"Really?"

"yeah all done, you can stay here a couple more days to rest up and check for infection."

"Okay," I nodded, 

"Okay? no arguing?"

"No." 

"Good girl," He smiled holding my hand 

"You waited for me to wake up?"

"Of course I did, I have to take care of my favourite patient." He smiled, "I'll be right here until you're all better" he smiled. 

"You mean it?"

"I promise," he smiled kissing my cheek "Get some rest y/n."

"Thank you, Dr. Dawkins."

"you can just call me Jack, y/n."

I blushed a little, "Thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome, Sweetheart." He smiled, 

[prince-liest]

Our usual "one attending per week" schedule on inpatient has been knocked out of wack because one of our attendings had to take a different job recently, but I finally had an attending for a full 7 days this week which means ✨feedback✨!

Every time I go into a little feedback session, I'm constantly overtaken by this fear that they're going to reveal to me that I'm secretly falling behind academically and need to get my shit together. Part of this, recently, has been because we had a really chaotic and rough first week of inpatient, and I had one day when I came to rounds late and genuinely was unprepared in my presentations to the point of borderline not knowing what a liver is. This negative feedback I fear never actually happens (not even on that terrible Friday), yet the fear persists. The bad news is that this attending, who is turning 40 this year, revealed to me that he also still gets imposter syndrome, so possibly we are just stuck like this forever, hahaha.

BUT! Consistently overall and on this occasion as well, I've been told that I'm in a good place in terms of medical knowledge and clinical skills, and that both my curiosity and enthusiasm for learning, as well as my clear enjoyment of my job on both the inpatient and outpatient sides, set me up for success and also make me an enjoyable person to work with, which is definitely something that brings me joy to hear. I also feel much, much better about this inpatient rotation than my last one - medicine is a great deal of fun once you're no longer afraid of accidentally killing someone by giving them a Tylenol!

I think my main actual concern in residency is Level 3, the third board exam I'm taking in March. I'm...not really worried about my actual end-of-residency Family Medicine boards, because those are going to be testing me on the things I am learning and also using in practice. Level 3, on the other hand, often asks delightful things like "Which of the following five gene mutations (which are all named by a random combination of 3-4 numbers and letters) is responsible for this patient's presentation?" which is an Achilles heel for someone like me whose greatest weakness is rote memorization of random, mostly irrelevant facts.

Anyway, it's really reassuring to me that on the front of, like, things that I think are valuable for my career as a physician, I am doing well. My attending actually said with regards to the bi-annual review my advisor is supposed to have with me, "Spoiler, everyone in your meeting pretty much agreed that this is an enthusiastic person who enjoys what they're doing and is great to work with."

So, basically: :)

[bigtreefest]

Hi Essie!

I was just reading your post on your application and this is just a thought -- you don't have to respond at all if you don't like this idea!! this idea is purely my CPH4 brain talking I swear I have nothing to do with this lol

So, a young man (okay maybe not so young he was born four years ahead of you according to his page in the uni website ) with some very serious frowning becomes your thesis supervisor at the end of the term. He taught one lesson that you attended and you didn't know him very well besides his name. He rarely speaks, always listening to your presentation/answer, and very occasionally asking "do you have any questions for me?"

Nevertheless, you have impressive GPA and at the end of that term, you decided to apply for a PhD. You already have two letters of recommendation, one from a professor that you have known for two years during your Master's, one from a professor that supervised your Bachelor thesis and teaching a few courses that you attended.

But this damn Graduate School that you want to get in requires THREE. THREE FUCKING RECOMMENDATION LETTERS. And it specifically requires the letter from your dissertation supervisors.

You ask, not with much hope, your current supervisor, the lecturer with a very serious frowning look on his face, whether he could provide you a letter of recommendation.

To which he responded, texting back in a matter of seconds.

-Ofc. When do you need it? Send your transcripts btw.

NOW, the question is: Is he

or

or

----I just thought it'd be hilarious if he's very serious during class and meetings while he's basically any 20-somethings when texting you and discussing things that he shouldn't be sharing with you (like the content of your recommendation letter, or the fact that three recommendation letters is absolutely worthless even though he's providing one for you, or that because another professor is cranky and possibly stealing work from their students, you def shouldn't be choosing him as your doctor supervisor)

Oh I absolutely adore this ask! Thank you so much for sending this in, I unfortunately know the hierarchy of academia too well which is why I honestly think I would be rolling my eyes at these standards, too. I took the prompt and ran with it. 😂

I wanna talk about the other two options before I get to my choice. All below the cut bc it’s long.

Let’s discuss Ari:

Throughout Ari’s undergrad degree, he played football and was greatly interested in world policies, so everyone thought once his sports career and degree was over, he’d be ready to get out there. Nope. He really wasn’t sure where to start, so instead, he decided to keep going with schooling.

His grades were just good enough for him to get into the program you were applying to now. Varsity athletics looked great on the application and his charm was the extra boost. Now that he’s in it though, it’s been almost seven years instead of the usual four to five. Part of it is him going in without much of a plan, wanting to try every avenue, while the other is him just not caring enough to push further and just finish the degree. He’s getting paid just enough to get by and no one has threatened to kick him out, so he enjoys the coasting and the free time it gives for him to look into his actual passions.

Part of the PhD program is all of the grad students sitting in a room grading exams of undergrads every few weeks, and during this, Ari really shows his personality. They have to sit there for hours on end, and it can get boring, so Ari will tell stories to the kid next to him to pass the time, except the room is so quiet that everyone hears. These will range from the various dates with odd girls, to that time he saw a video of someone cooking salmon in the dishwasher, so he tried it out. “It was pretty decent. I swear it’s Kosher! I would do it again if it didn’t take so long.”

Any time he gets trusted to teach, which is rare since his advisor doesn’t really want it in order to guarantee the kids are being taught correct content, questions are not answered very well. It’s either with a “hell if I know. Use google. That’s how they do it in the real world.” Or “wait for the professor to get back. This isn’t my expertise.” Both technically valid, but not what a younger student wants to hear from someone in a position of authority.

Star Student Steve:

Steve was born for upper-level studies. He’s been ready to graduate essentially since getting into the program, knowing exactly what he wanted to research right off the bat. He knows all the content well and is well-liked by students and professors alike. The undergrads have a habit of ogling him and crowding his office hours, so you never even bothered to go. Pending his early graduation, he’s already been offered a job at the university with a full federal research grant, which he could use to travel or gain equipment for his projects. He’s probably considering this, unless one of the prime companies/agencies gives him a better offer. He can’t wait for the opportunity to make new rules and discoveries in the field, just needs to find the best route to get him there. (Talk about a CPH4 brain, haha)

With all of this going on, though, he doesn’t have time for much else. Sure, he’s very kind, but he’s always on the move. Students are not his first priority right now if he wants everything in place to be successful and make history. When it comes to picking an advisor, everyone wants Steve, but after hearing all that, and the standard he might hold you to without giving you the time of day to reach that level, do you really want him?

My wonderful choice Curtis:

(Even before I saw my options, this description was screaming ‘Curtis’ to me.)

He’s definitely the kind of silent student who puts his head down and does his work because it’s difficult stuff. Some may say it’s even more difficult than Steve’s if they knew what Curtis actually did, but he’s so silent and keeps it to himself unless he’s asked. It’s not because he doesn’t want to share, it’s more because when he’s interacting with students, he understands his job is to help them first and foremost. Although Curtis may have been busy, he never rushed and made sure his full attention was on the task or person at hand.

All the Professors know Curtis and really like him for his work ethic and ability to maintain balance and remain a grounded person, except he’s just not a poster boy like Steve. For this reason, his advisor trusts him enough to teach certain classes since Curtis parses out his time well and not only knows the content, but cares about it deeply. At the end of his lectures, though, when he asks for questions, it’s radio silence. Perhaps it’s because he taught the material so well, but even Steve and Ari get the odd question about their research or last Sunday’s football game. Curtis gets disinterested stares until he dismisses everyone. Office hours are pretty quiet, too, until right around exam time when a few students come to him for help since everywhere else was so full. After seeing how helpful he is, yourself included, they keep going back to him, keeping it to themselves, though, keeping him their hidden secret gem.

The lack of recognition Curtis gets is a shame, though, because he’s so nice. Actually, not just nice, but genuinely kind. When you were assigned with him as your advisor, you weren’t really sure what to do. Not many talked about him and the stoic demeanor was a little intimidating, until you actually spoke with each other. He was so sweet and engaged, asking you questions and providing guidance not only on what he thought might work the best, but how to go about it and how to properly convey ideas to the committee panel members at the end. He gave you his phone number, too, in case you needed any help at all, saying he’d pick up anytime.

When you asked him for your letter of recommendation, he was elated. “No one has ever come to me for that before, but ofc. When do you need it? Send your transcripts btw. And your resume.”

Curtis was right, though, he had never had to be the voice of authority vouching on someone’s behalf since up until this point, he was in your exact shoes. “Don’t be nervous to ask questions, but I also don’t want you to think that I’ve got all the answers and you’re not good enough. The only difference between you and me academically is like four classes content-wise. I just have more hands-on experience.” He said it with a soft, reassuring smile that really put you at ease.

He’s aware of the system, and of course he hates it, because he knows what it’s like to be at the bottom. Throughout his time putting together your recommendation, he’s messaging you with updates. “I’m going to add this because they really like to see it specifically highlighted,” or “I’m not even sure what they’re asking here, but it’s fucking stupid if you ask me. Conventions like this are ridiculous. I hate that these decisions are made by people who aren’t even on the ground. If they actually took part in this program, they’d see you’re more than qualified to get into it. But no, for some reason, all important decisions are made by old people so far removed from actual work.”

That second one was in person, though. It wouldn’t look good to have him saying those things in writing. He rolls his eyes before switching back to his reassuring, charming self.

“Anyway, don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s good.”

And then as he sits down to write, he constantly sends you lines from it. “Does this sound too braggy? Am I hyping up your work too much? I feel like it wouldn’t be fair if I was casual about it, but we’re rocking with a lot of enthusiasm right now and idk where the line is where it’ll seem insincere.😅”

You tend to hang around Curtis a lot while you’re working on finishing up. On small work breaks, he tells you about the weird little things the other PhD students have sent to his email. “I’m what, four years older than you? And so are these other guys, but I swear they act like they’re twelve.” It helps you to laugh at his small little complaints in a time of building stress. He lets you into his life and you see he’s a normal person, just a few years older than you. He’s the whole reason you know about Ari and the dishwasher salmon, and he helps to break down the barriers you feel against everyone in his program that seems to know so much. Half of your conversation is weird everyday things about his life you’re sure no one else has given him the space to talk about. “You texted me while I was watching the hockey game, they were losing anyway so I was grateful to do something else.” He was in the city…at the actual hockey game…drinking a beer and scrolling emails…. Or “my apartment has a no pet policy, but my roommate got a cat, so I hope you don’t mind the little guy joining us today. Just while the landlord does some maintenance so we don’t get kicked out.” He’s half shuffling through the papers on his desk, half giving you an amused smile thinking of the whole situation. Of course, it can’t all be personal, though, so he continues to sprinkle advice in here and there.

“Also, if you wanna keep your sanity around here, keep away from Levinson’s advisor. Not only is he just straight-up a ridiculous man, but he won’t push you if he likes you. And if he hates you, you’ll know it a mile away. That’s why I never chose him for my committee meeting.”

As you prepare to defend your thesis, Curtis is sitting with you in the hallway. He’s been prepping you for this presentation for weeks, but for peace of mind, he asks you potential questions as you wait to be called in. He holds a paper copy of your thesis, saying once again “you’ve got this. Just like the rehearsals. No one knows this stuff better than you. Show them that.” As you stand in front of the small crowd, he gives you a thumbs-up and watches with approving nods as your blow it out of the water.

He gives you a big hug when you pass and an even bigger hug when you stop by the small TA office and visit his desk to tell him about your official spot in the PhD program. “I can’t wait to work together more with you. You’re going to do great things, I know it, and I’m proud to be a part of it.”

[jungkoode]

Heyy

Know I’ve been real absent lately ( blame it on school cus why do all professors suddenly remember all at the same time that we have exams to write like wtf ) but honestly I just couldn’t not write this to kiki rn.

The sheer amount of effort this girl puts in her work is honestly not okay. Sometimes I imagine her late at night researching about guns and literature just so her chapters will be closer to the reality. Or she just has some good amount of basic knowledge in everything, who knows.

She doesn’t just present the meal with a lid and smoke around it. NO. She crumbs up small pieces and aligns it on the floor one after another so we can then taste it bit by bit and savor it. AND HONESTLY that’s wayy better for me, because food represented right in front of you can be forgotten after the last bite but when you work for it little by little, unless you have amnesia you aint gonna forget it for a long period of time.

And her characters, OH MY GAWD HER CHARACTERS !!!!!! The psychological depth is insaaaaannneeeeee, but primer to that I just love how relatable they are. Not trynna make myself look an emotionally ( almost ) unavailable queen that nix is, but i see myself so much in her. : sarcasm as a defense mechanism; feeling like everyone knows the script of how to act and I’m just improvising, trying not to slip up, supportive parents but the expectation pressure 100000000%. Like she is me, I am her. ( I desperately need someone like ro and yoongi in my life )

It’s usually easier to heal from trauma when you actually remember what the actual trauma was but that’s a story for a different time.

Because now is the time to appreciate Kiki’s work and her amazing dictatorship style of ruling kiki nation. Genuinely in love with how big the kiki nation has gotten. I remember like it was yesterday that i used to comment “ and that’s on ( certain amount ) of notes “ but….. OKAY DONT CRY DONT CRY

- Your lowkey ( but not completely ) retired Tactical Chief Of Chapters’ Goal Hitting, N 🩷

NITA. MY OG GENERAL. MY RETIRED TACTICAL CHIEF. DON’T—DO NOT MAKE ME EMOTIONALLY MALFUNCTION THIS EARLY IN THE WEEK. I will cry and then pretend I didn’t.

The second you walked back into Kiki Nation and dropped this letter like a commander reporting from the front lines of academic warfare, I stood up and saluted. Professors really do act like a collective organism with one brain cell they all share to torment us.

Now onto the actual meltdown:

YOU COMPARED MY WRITING TO A TRAIL OF CAREFULLY LAID CRUMBS AND I’M GOING TO HAVE TO UNINSTALL MYSELF. You get it. You see the blueprint. You follow the trauma breadcrumb path like a mouse with a PhD in literature and pain. The way you explained it is so real—me trying to make every moment earned, every reveal felt, every psychological breakdown inevitable but still shocking. It’s like… if the trauma doesn’t marinate, what are we even doing here????

Also?? THE FACT THAT YOU SEE YOURSELF IN NIX??? That means everything. Like genuinely. That’s not just a little “oh I relate”—that’s mirror-glitch-identification level stuff. And I’m honored. If Nix is you, then Ro and Yoongi already are in your life. In some weird parasocial traumatic serotonin-riddled way. Like a comfort folder with bad coping skills and good music taste.

And the line “It’s usually easier to heal from trauma when you actually remember what the trauma was” ??? That’s the entire foundation of FMU’s emotional arc, actually. The way you always pick up on the core of what I’m doing—it humbles me and inflates my ego at the same time. I’m in emotional whiplash.

Thank you. For everything. For being there in the early chaos. For returning like a legendary NPC whose side quest unlocks a crucial part of the main plot. For always being someone I knew understood.

You’re forever a Commander in the Kiki Nation archives, even if you’re sipping wine with Yoongi in semi-retirement now. We don’t demote legends. We build statues of them.

🩷【N. Tactical Chief: Chapter Goals Division. Status: Eternal.】🩷

(Sidenote: I do in fact Google gun parts and literary theory at 2AM. ADHD be like: what if we learned ballistic recoil physics and read Jungian archetype analysis tonight 😀)

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Studying with Aaron [requested]

All photo credits after the tag list.

Hello, loves! I hope you are all having a good day/week so far. This post is for my sweet anon who asked for some Aaron study inspiration. Thank you so much for your request. I had such fun coming up with the mood board, HC's, and a little drabble. I hope you enjoy it and good luck with all of your studying and exams! You've got this! Love Levi -❤️

If you'd like to submit a request of some kind, please see this post, Request Post (linked)

Aaron knows that it gets cold in the library, so he brings an extra sweater or blanket for you to wear while you both study.

Aaron gets you any candy or snacks that you want from the vending machines on the second floor. He also knows that apart from the basics, the machines don’t have everything you like, so he buys a few bags of your favorite chips and salty snacks and has some in his apartment and in his backpack in case you need a change from sugary snacks.

If you're on the quiet floors of the library and a person or group is being loud, he will go and tell them to move and is serious about this request. He will stand and glare at the individual(s) until they are gone.

Aaron will quiz you on formulas and concepts for your math and science exams and has written a detailed list of major dates, people, and events for your history courses. He takes all the time you need to remember the important things for each class. He suggests memory devices and tricks to help you retain the stores of information you need.

Even if he says he’s not a good writer, Aaron is a good editor. He will read over any papers or presentations you must turn in. He will make remarks on the whole paper and major points, but he’ll also correct you on your syntax and grammar. As a prelaw student, he is used to detailed work and he wants you to present your best work.

He doesn’t bother you when you are working. He has his own studies too, but every hour you will both debrief and say one major point that you have both learned in that time. You write them out on a whiteboard next to your table. You and Aaron also both have major goals or assignments listed on the board and when either of you finish one of them you cheer each other on! (This is on a non-quiet floor of the library of course).

The short Hotch drabble is below the cut. 1.2K words.

Pairing Hotch x gender-neutral reader

Category: Fluff/comfort

Word count: 1.2K

Content warnings: None

A/N: Two things. 1. This isn't well edited and 2. I use the slang Diffy Q which stands for differential equations. If you liked this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

_y/n_ = your name

You look at your phone again. It had been nearly half an hour since Aaron had run out to grab a drink. Unless he was getting plastered somewhere off campus then ‘Going to grab a drink’ shouldn’t have taken him more than a few minutes. Just as you were about to shoot him a text asking him where he was, the man in question came walking down the hall and toward your table. He was rather awkwardly holding two 711 Styrofoam cups. He took a sip of one of them to make sure he was giving his partner the right cup. He was right and set the other cup in front of you. You smile at him and in a teasing voice say, “Have you suddenly anthropomorphized into a car and needed some petrol to keep that brain of yours going?” Aaron scoffed and replied, “You know you stop making sense when you’re this tired _y/n_.” You jokingly pouted and said, “What are you talking about, I’m at my peak performance right now.” Just as you finished saying this, you couldn’t stifle a yawn from coming out of your mouth. You hide the betrayal of your body with your mouth. This really had Hotch laughing, and he said, “Well maybe your soda will help you a little bit.” You smiled up at him and grabbed the cup. You take the straw in your mouth. Once you had taken a sip, you smiled even more. Aaron watched you. The little gleam in your eyes at tasting the drink was worth the walk to the convenience store just across from campus. Once you had taken a sip, you said, “You didn’t have to get me root beer Aaron, that was very sweet of you.” Hotch pulled out his chair and sat back down, as he said, “Well you deserved a treat. After all, you finished that twenty-page sociology paper. And I needed to stretch my legs. My eyes were starting to glaze over with this reading.” You looked over to the large textbook in front of Hotch and asked, “Is this still Poli Sci?” Hotch nodded and said, “Mhm.” You reached over and pat his hand as you both slipped back into your respective studying.

A half hour later you ran a hand through your hair and made a sound of frustration. Hotch looked up and asked, “What bothering you _y/n_?” You set down your pencil and said, “This freaking calc review is impossible. I don’t know why my professor decided to include problem types that we’ve never seen before here? I’ve tried working problem seventeen three times and I’m still not getting the answer provided. I’ve checked my stuff and it’s not working.” Hotch nodded and asked, “What concept it is over?” You looked back down at the guide and said, “antiderivatives, which I’m normally good at. But this is something else, let me tell you.” Aaron steepled his fingers under his chin and said, “Why don’t you try writing it out on the board. Maybe seeing it bigger will help you see something differently?” You stand and say, “Well it can’t hurt my chances of figuring it out.” Aaron smiled and said, “That’s the attitude I’m looking for,” as he tossed a green marker at _y/n_. You grabbed the marker and wrote out in neat writing: f(x)=ex−3x2+sinx­

You continued to work on this problem for another few minutes before hearing someone call you and Aaron’s names out. You turn and see Spencer and Penelope walking toward you. You beam and move away from the board; the annoying problem is momentarily forgotten. Garcia rushed forward and gave you a hug, while Aaron gave Reid a strong pat on the shoulder. When Penelope had released you, you and Hotch changed positions as you hugged Spencer and Aaron gave Pen an embrace. ­­As everyone pulled apart, you asked, “What are y’all two here studying for?” Spencer spoke first saying, “Diffy Q and computational engineering.” The thought of Spencer’s highly advanced school load had your head spinning and you were grateful when Penelope said, “And I’m here to write an essay for Brit Lit and remind myself for the seventieth time who Plato was and why his cave is important.” At hearing this, Spencer rolled his eyes as his gaze moved to the whiteboard, he clocked the unfinished calculus problem. The boy genius asked, “You working on calc, _y/n_?” You sighed and said, “Yeah, unsuccessfully.” Reid smiled softly and said, “How about I solve this one for you and then give you another similar problem? I won’t tell you how I’m solving it, but I’ll leave my work and you can reference back to it?” Hearing this, you smile and nod saying, “That sounds great Spence, thanks.” Reid annoyingly quickly solved the problem and provided a new one. Once Reid was back next to Garcia, Hotch asked, “Would you like to join us?” Penelope nodded no and said, “We booked out a room upstairs for the next three hours. I need ultimate silence to write.” You nodded in understanding and asked another question: “We’re still set to meet tomorrow at Commons to work on the speech, right?” Garcia and Spencer nodded, and Pen replied, “We sure are my sweet. Darn was I lucky to be put in a group with all of you. My friend Stacy who’s also in the class said half of her partners hadn’t even started their parts of the presentation.” Aaron chimed in with a “Here, here to that.” The friends spoke for a few more minutes before Spence and Penelope moved up to their booked room. As you turned back to the board to study Spencer’s work, they reflected on how they had met their best friends at school. It was fate or the academic advisors who had thrown the four into the same Intro to Communications class. You had sat next to Penelope and across from Aaron on the first day of class. They had all hit off well. In the second week, Spencer had heard Pen complain about her history class and he joined their group. It was Garia who had told you that she thought Aaron had a thing for them. You hadn’t believed her, but later that week, Hotch had texted you asking if you wanted to grab dinner off campus sometime? And the rest, as they say, was history.

            You spent another half hour trying at the problem, but you were getting tired and frustrated. You flopped into your chair and put your head in your hands saying, “I’m gonna fail this exam.” Aaron reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder saying, “Hey, no negative self-talk. This exam isn’t until Wednesday and it's only on Sunday. Reid will help you, and you can meet with your professor if you’re really, really concerned. You’re incredibly smart and capable _y/n_. Don’t let this one problem get you down.” You looked up slightly from your hands and saw how genuine Aaron was being, and how proud he was of you.” Softly you said, “What did I ever do to deserve you, Aaron?” Hotch smiled and said, “Nothing. And you never will, _y/n_. Now, it’s getting late. How about we call it here? I can drive you back to your place.” You agreed. You both packed up and as you walked toward the exit, you were very happy to be at the library at 12:30 a.m. As long as you had Aaron as a cheerleader, you knew you could make it through finals. You were pretty sure you could make it through anything with him by your side.

______________________________________________________________

tag list: @criminalskies @tgskitten @geminitapestry

Want to be added to the tag list? Please see this post, CM tag list (linked)

_____________________________________________________-----------

Photo credits

Top row: Center and Right (@shakespearesdaughters)

Center row: Left (@shakespearesdaughters) Center: (@foldergif

All other photos are mine.

[lizzy-frizzle]

I decided to write up a silly little Operator File, for if my arknights doctor OC was an operator instead

Operator Iremia: Incantation Medic

Basic Info [Code Name] Iremia [Gender] Female [Combat Experience] None [Place of Birth] Victoria [Date of Birth] May 5 [Race] Zalak [Height] 165cm [Infection Status] Medical tests have confirmed that no infection is present.

Physical Exam [Physical Strength] Normal [Mobility] Normal [Physical Resilience] Standard [Tactical Acumen] Standard [Combat Skill] Normal [Originium Arts Assimilation] Outstanding

Profile A contributing member of Rhine Lab’s Originium Art Section, Doctor Valerie decided to join Rhodes Island as operator Iremia due to personal differences with Rhine Lab’s goals. She’s made great strides while working under Dorothy Franks, and numerous life saving devices have been invented in her name. Aside from some memory issues, her knowledge of Originium should prove valuable at Rhodes Island.

Clinical Analysis Imaging tests reveal clear, normal outlines of internal organs, and no abnormal shadows have been detected. Originium granules have not been detected in the circulatory system and there is no sign of infection. At this time, this operator is believed to be uninfected.

[Cell-Originium Assimilation] 0% Operator Iremia shows no signs of Originium infections.

[Blood Originium-Crystal Density] 0.13u/L Operator Iremia deals often with Originium based experiments, but takes unusually excessive amounts of safety precautions. With the frequency and volume of these experiments, she should be monitored more regularly, however at this point we think it's unlikely she will get infected.

Archive File 1 When Iremia first joined Rhodes Island, she struggled to make friends. She’d often find herself eating alone in the cafeteria, or isolated in the labs performing all sorts of experiments. Some operators thought she was standoffish or rude. Though, after operator Dorothy joined, she started opening up more – thanks to Dorothy pulling her into conversations. This led to her befriending a number of other scientist and medical personnel – notably Rhine Lab operators and operator Weedy.

Archive File 2 Other operators have been coming to Iremia to change benign aspects of themselves, resulting in some files being inaccurate. It turns out that Iremia’s arts can alter people’s heights, weight, hair color, and various other physical aspects. Kal’tsit has issued a mandate that operators can no longer bother Iremia for these changes, as it has resulted in requiring to update approx. 200 files.

Kal’tsit, please send out a reminder, I’ve seen over a dozen operators with different -undyed- hair color this week. - Gavial

Archive File 3 Iremia has briefly discussed her desire for a cure to oripathy – chiefly her Mom. Iremia can still be found in her dorm crying over this subject, so please refrain from bringing it up unless she initiates.

Regardless her reasons, she has put more hours in the lab than Silence with regards to experiments and tests to further our understanding of the disease. This has led to infected operators finding Iremia to be genuine, and easy to confide in. However, this has also led to Iremia attending every infected operator’s cremation. This should be noted with regards to her mental health, and perhaps we should limit her access to them.

On top of all of this, Iremia has already found a way to slow minor infection rates to a surprising degree – though not effective against heavier infections. Even if it’s not a cure, this breakthrough has bolstered her confidence and mood substantially.

Archive File 4 Iremia has established several romantic relationships with other operators, so needless to say she’s adjusted to Rhodes Island. She’s been spotted making out with a number of others in hallway corners, and for some reason when this was brought up to Kal’tsit she seemed unsurprised, and unbothered. This has led to some operators starting betting pools on the exact number of partners Iremia has among Rhodes Island. The current highest bet is thirty operators.

Promotion Record ‘Eh? You want to know how I use my arts? Well...I just kinda...do it? I’m not sure what you were expecting...’

…

‘You want to know if I can take Originium out of people? No. I’ve tried...C-can we please drop this subject?’

…

‘My rings? They’re my own design! I made them at Rhine La-Oh, I might not be able to talk about them actually. I think Rhine Lab has the patent...’

[feelingcauliflower]

153 days of survival

50/153

more than 30% of the time has passed. i can make it through the rest. september was me trying to somewhat fix my sleep schedule so basically just sleeping sleeping and sleeping. have not slept so much in such a long, long time. tried to stay as present as possible but did kind of leave my head every 2-3 days. has been quite the journey of doing nothing. have only one day to revise each unit lol honestly at this point i have simply accepted it. yes it makes me sad. but there is not much i can do. i will just have to roll with what my brain gives me. if it’s procrastinating and staring at screens without a single thought in my head, it is what it is. will be scheduling cry days for every 2 days again. have a nice day, week, month. thank u for reading this far, send a good thought and prayer. i am so attached to all of this it is hard to let go and give up but it is so important to know when to give things up. i am just sad and scared.

context: i am simply trying to survive my a2 exams which end on 18th of jan, 2024 and documenting this here to have some kind of responsibility. the frequency of my updates is well evident of my work.

link to previous post: https://www.tumblr.com/feelingcauliflower/728287215250276352/153-days-of-survival

[narvaldetierra]

Sleep is overrated

Summary: Tasha is concerned that Patterson hasn't slept for the past three days. AKA Three nights Patterson didn't sleep and the one she did.

Tags: Established Relationship. Self Sleep Deprivation. Mention of Visual Hallucination. Do not try this at home. Words: 3486 A/N: I came up with this idea a long time ago, after watching episode 3x20 when Reade sends everybody home except for Patterson. And we already saw that Kurt had to tell her to go back to her apartment to rest, so here I am. But this story is settled somewhere in season 3, before the dragonfly tattoo and after they caught Hirst. Acknowledgments: I want to take this space to thank @nachosncheeze for being my beta reader in this work and helping me to improve the translation. Without you, this wouldn't be as beautiful as it is. So thank you 💖

1.

Like every software engineer, Patterson knew two basic truths: coffee is needed to exist and sleep is overrated. She could spend entire nights awake and working, she had done it before and those had turned out to be very productive nights. Like those nights working on her science projects in middle school, or like when it was exam season at college. She had done it for this job before too, especially since Jane had appeared in that bag in the middle of Times Square.

It wasn't something that bothered her. In fact, she really enjoyed working at night, when the lab was almost empty and silence reigned. It was much easier to concentrate that way, with no one rushing her, yelling to type faster on a code she was making up on the spot, in an unprecedented, tense situation. Patterson loved her team, they were her family and she would do anything for them, but when they yelled over her shoulder telling her how to do her work, she wished they would leave.

Thus she wanted to use the silence of the night for better concentration. She could feel the pressure coming from Reade to find Roman's location and couldn't blame him, several weeks had passed since the team had gotten back together and so far they had only done what Roman wanted them to do: racing after every tattoo, like donkeys chasing a carrot. That needed to stop. She needed to find something that would at least help them understand Roman's full plan.

As time went by, she took one and two, and three coffees. She walked around the lab to make sure to keep her circulatory system active and thus ensure that her brain was well-oxygenated and kept her alert. "Come on! You can do it!" she said to herself gesticulating with her hands in the air, "You were part of the three blind mice, you are not hacking illegally again, but you can find something that lead to Roman! You've done this too long to give up." She let out a sigh, grateful that no one had been present to hear her talking to herself, then went back to the search as if nothing had happened. 

When it was 5 am she decided to take a shower before the day shift agents arrived, she was sure it would clear her head. And she wasn't wrong at all. Before getting out of the shower, she turned off the hot water so that only cold, icy water would come out to wake her. It was a trick she had learned in college: the ice water in contact with the skin works as a shock to the body, which, under such stress, increases the heart rate, thus increasing blood circulation and releasing adrenaline. In that precise instant, her mind went blank and that's when she realized how to decode a specific tattoo.

2.

After a new day of work, the team had solved another tattoo. They should have been pleased to have done it in record time, but they weren't closer to catching Roman or Crawford. Patterson was beginning to feel frustrated, like when she found a puzzle that couldn't solve and spent days obsessing over a solution. 

That's why she decided to spend another night in the lab, working in that beautiful silence, which had proved to be quite useful. She was sure it could be again, after a very much-needed coffee. A few hours ago she still had that false extra energy caused by the excess dopamine. Now that feeling had faded away and she felt so cold.

She wasn't planning to stay the whole night, just enough to get a lead. However, when she walked into the lab with her steaming mug, her smile faded away when she saw that Rich was also there.

"Oh! Patty Cakes! Welcome to the night shift. What brings you here?" he asked in his characteristic playful mood.

"What are you doing here Rich?"

"Ah, ah, ah… I asked first."

Patterson rolled her eyes and put the mug down on a table near the terminal she decided to work on. "I wanted to advance some work."

"Oh? Yeah… me too. That's what I was doing here… by no means did I forget to do that absurdly boring paperwork they ask for after every mission. I keep those things up to date. Apparently, it's a big deal. Did you know that?"

"Rich, how long has it been since you submitted your paperwork?"

"Maybe two or three–"

"Days?"

"Weeks."

"Rich!"

"I know, I know. That's why I'm here this late. Jeez! You don't have to give me a lecture about it."

"I– I wasn't– ugh," she didn't care enough to say anything else about it.

For the next five minutes, they remained silent, each one concentrating on their stuff. Until Rich's ADHD appeared.

"Do you mind if I play music?" he asked and, without really waiting for an answer, he pressed play. He didn't really care, he needed the background noise, plus it would make the tedious task of paperwork more entertaining.

"No, I guess–" she covered a yawn that interrupted her, "I guess it's ok," she looked away from the screen for just a second and went back to what she was doing.

The playlist was something without any kind of coherence, the most diverse songs were playing, going from a soft melody to an energetic song that sounded too loud for a workspace. There were just the two of them in the lab, and neither of them should have been in there that late. She was already tired, so Patterson tried not to pay attention and kept working.

"I'm hungry. Have you had dinner yet?" Rich asked after a couple of minutes. 

"Not yet," Patterson replied without even looking up, focused on what she was doing.

"Shall we order pizza?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Oh, wait, I already ate pizza this week," he thought about it for a minute, then he just shrugged "I don't care, I like pizza. Do you want me to order?"

"Rich, I’m trying to concentrate here."

“Sorry, I won’t interrupt you anymore. Just– tell me what kind of pizza you like.” Patterson stared at him in silence, wanting him quiet for once. “Or don’t. Doesn’t matter. I’ll order you a cheese one, everyone likes cheese, or they should.”

Music kept playing, and they went back to work. For a few more minutes Patterson was able to work quietly, although she had a feeling that this was going to be a long, long night with Rich. When her coffee was empty, she looked for a blanket scarf to wear. She had just returned to her terminal when Rich arrived with a few boxes of pizza.

"Dinner is here!"

That was when Patterson understood that she had two options: go back to her apartment or stay the whole night there, dealing with Rich. As tempting as the idea of going to bed was, she couldn't give up so soon. So she stayed, grateful to have more than one change of clothes in her locker.

3.

That day wasn't as exciting as the previous one, but they were able to get some encrypted files that could be of interest in Crawford's case. Thus, the team had a status meeting at the end of the day.

"Patterson, how long do you think it will take you to decode those files?" Reade asked.

"I'm not sure, looks like complex encryption. Maybe a few hours… or maybe all night."

"Alright, get on with it. The rest of you, go home to rest." Then Reade left the lab. He still had paperwork to finish before going home.

Jane and Kurt left as well, talking about dinner. After a long day, they all were tired and, unaware of Patterson's situation, they just wished her a quiet night, so she could solve it quickly enough. One by one, the lab technicians left too, until there was just Patterson and Tasha, who refused to leave her alone.

"It's ok, you don't have to stay, you can go home," Patterson said as she kept typing.

"Perhaps I can't exactly be helpful, but I can keep you company. Besides, you still need to eat and it has been several days since we had dinner together."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's been a long week, with so much work–"

"You don't need to apologize, just pick something to order for dinner."

"Right now, I could use a coffee," Patterson said and covered a yawn with her right hand. She was exhausted and had no idea where she was getting enough energy to keep working.

"Dinner first, coffee later. And don't you dare to say Go-Gurt."

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, but when she reached out to take the menu Tasha was offering, her hand-eye coordination failed. She thought she was grabbing the menu, but her hand closed right next to it, in the air. Patterson ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip nervously and hurriedly grabbed the menu, pretending that nothing had happened, but it wasn't enough to fool Tasha.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" she turned and took a few casual steps as she looked at the menu.

"Wait– Patterson how long have you not slept?"

"So, do you prefer Chinese or Thai?" She attempted to change the conversation and picked up her phone, pretending to look for more options to eat.

"Patterson! You promised you wouldn't do that anymore!" 

"I'm ok, it's nothing I can't handle. Besides, you all need me here at the lab."

"But we need you healthy, rested, lucid."

"I know, I know. It's just– one thing led to another." Those were very poor excuses, she wasn't even trying, was too tired for that. "Look, I'll finish this thing Reade asked me to do, and then I'll go to sleep, ok?"

"You should go to sleep right now." 

"Tash, I mean it, I don't want to argue about it now. We can eat dinner together or we can talk about my sleep schedules, but we can't do both, I need to finish this."

Tasha remained silent for a moment, watching her, unable to believe what she was hearing. "I prefer Indian." She decided that it wasn't the moment to have that conversation, but it wouldn't be something she'd let go of that easily.

"Thanks," was all Patterson had to say. Then she ordered the food and went back to her computer to continue typing.

The next few minutes were spent in silence. Words were only exchanged when Patterson reached an impasse and had to find a new approach to get better results, and only turned away from the screen when Tasha returned with their food.

They ate the first few bites quietly until Tasha said "This isn't urgent enough to go without sleep for–" she realized she didn't know - "I don't even want to know how long."

"What if it is?" she hurried to swallow the food to answer, "What if by not decoding this in time, we miss the opportunity to prevent something bad from happening?"

"Is that what kept you awake?"

"No! Yes. Maybe– I don't know! I just know that what we do here is important, there is no space for mistakes."

"That's why you should sleep. You have a giant team of people trained to get the job done, to help you, and complete the tasks while you rest. You need to trust in them."

"I do!"

"Then learn to delegate." Tasha let out a sigh and set the food aside. She approached Patterson and took her hands in hers. "Honey, I'm not looking for a fight, I just want you to take better care of yourself, and have regular periods of sleep so that you can continue doing what you love to do."

"I know…" she admitted.

"I won't insist anymore this time, let's have dinner in peace, finish with the task assigned to you and I'll take you home to rest. But promise, truly and sincerely, that you will not do it again."

"I promise." A soft smile appeared on Patterson's lips and she moved closer to kiss her. 

"Now… could you tell me how many nights you spent here? I promise I won't get mad."

"Hmm…" she hesitated for a moment, and in a barely audible voice said, "This is the third one."

Tasha had to make a great effort to restrain herself from saying anything about it, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, "Can I try some of your food?" she asked with a smile. Then she preferred to change the conversation to keep her promise.

The rest of the night Tasha focused on helping Patterson in any way she could. She wasn't an expert in coding and she knew little about encryption, but she had some basic knowledge, so she could at least take care of minor tasks. As the hours went by Tasha noticed that the blonde's yawns became more frequent, she even saw her nodding off on one or two occasions. The brunette had to hold back to keep her promise and let Patterson finish the job before taking her home to rest.

+1

By the time the team arrived at the lab, Patterson and Tasha were a continuous yawning machine, although they managed to disguise them quite successfully. In their hands was the third cup of coffee of the day, which no longer seemed to have enough effect on Patterson. The blond felt just as tired but with rapid heartbeats due to the caffeine.

Patterson explained, without much interest, how they were able to decode the files. Then she gave them some coordinates from three places related to the new tattoos on Jane's body.

The team departed with a clear mission, leaving Patterson and Rich. They would assist the team remotely, as they always did, providing additional information about the sites they had been sent.

Stepping out into the hallway, Tasha let Jane and Weller go ahead and took Reade aside so they could talk alone.

“You need to send Patterson home,” she said seriously, steering right into his eyes.

“What? The day is just beginning, we need her here.” 

“No. Reade. You NEED to send Patterson home.” She emphasized each word individually to make it clear how serious she was about it. “I know how much we need her, as much as I know you haven't slept well these past days. But Patterson has been awake for four days now.”

“That's not true, she–”

“She won't say anything because she is a workaholic and is determined to find something that gives us the advantage we need. You won't notice it on her face either because she does magic with her makeup. Still, you have to do something about it.” Both were silent for a moment. Tasha took a deep breath and got closer to him. Softening her voice, she added, “Look, I know you hate being compared with Weller but, when he was in charge, he learned the hard way that he had to watch over Patterson's rest periods. Because when she gets obsessed with something, she forgets about anything else. Even eating and sleep become irrelevant for her.”

Reade stared at her, pondering her words. He knew Patterson used to get obsessed over work, but he hadn't really thought it was that big of a deal. He look at Patterson through the window in the lab door, she was writing some numbers on a glass board. Then he felt bad for ordering her to stay the night to work, though he had no regrets if that had brought them any closer to Roman. 

“Listen, you don't have to send her home right now. But unless you want her to collapse in the middle of the lab, you'll do it as soon as her speech becomes erratic or her hands have a tremor.”

“Ok, I'll keep an eye over her,” he finally agreed. Noticing that Tasha was not pleased he added, “I'll be sure to send her home to rest. And then she'll have two days off.”

With a soft nod and a smile, Tasha thanked her friend for taking her words. He was the boss and call the shots, but she would take care of Patterson, especially when the blond didn't do it herself. Then she left to find Weller and Jane. 

The hours seemed to pass slower than any other day. By noon, Patterson could have sworn it was already 7 pm. She couldn't drink any more coffee, she wasn't hungry either. Everything she tried to do, took her double of time. She was cranky too.

Rich intercepted Tasha as soon as she got to the lab.

"I think something is wrong with Pattycakes."

"What? What happened?" She looked over, worried. Patterson was talking to Afreen.

"She's been a little moody. Not that I complain about it, it was a little fun. But I noticed her hands shaking too. Her handwriting is unreadable today."

"I'll take care of it."

"Is she on drugs?"

"What? Of course not!" She approached Rich to get a confident talk, "Look, she hadn't slept well. Reade is aware of this, there's no need for the lab team to know it too. Ok? You'll have to be in charge for the rest of the day."

Rich's eyes had a sparkle in them that terrified Tasha, but she was sure the team could handle anything he did.

"Hi honey," Tasha said approaching Patterson, "I think it's time."

"Oh, hi. Time for what?"

"To go home."

“I'm fine, you don't have to worry, ok?” 

"I know you think that you are, but I've seen you like this before. I still remember when you collapsed from trying to stop Sandstorm too.” 

“Well, that wasn't because of a lack of sleep, I had a radiotransm–”

“You hadn't even eaten that time,” Tasha insisted. She was sure that Patterson's collapse hadn't been only because of that transmitter. But that wasn't important now. “You are a super genius, but you still need to sleep. So take your stuff, we're leaving.”

Patterson didn't have the energy to keep arguing with Tasha and, although she might never tell her, deep down she liked that she cared for her that much. She left what she was doing in Afreen's hands, grabbed her things, and followed Tasha down the halls.

While they waited for the elevator, Tasha saw Reade in his office and just with signs, she told him that she was leaving with Patterson, as they had agreed earlier.

During the short car ride, the little energy that remained in Patterson's body faded away. It took her a lot of concentration to keep her eyes open. Her yawning became uncontrollable. Patterson's body seemed heavier but her mind couldn't rest yet. Somehow she kept seeing Jane's luminescent tattoos floating in the air around her. She had read about hallucinations caused by sleep deprivation before, but it felt weird to experience them.

“You can take a nap if you want. I'll wake you when we get there.”

The blonde shook her head and turned her gaze away following a floating tattoo with the shape of a flaming rose. Patterson's mind, obsessed with solving puzzles, made a series of theories about the reasons why her subconscious bring up that particular tattoo. But before she was capable to make any logical conclusion, they arrived at Tasha's apartment.

After a failed attempt to get out of the car, Tasha hurried to help Patterson to stand up. It was clear that her coordination was failing. She was sleep-drunk enough that climbing a stairway became a challenge. Tasha was sure she had managed to get Patterson to her apartment, just in the nick of time to prevent her from collapsing.

“I'll find you something more comfortable so you can rest better," Tasha offered when they got to the bedroom. She sat Patterson on the bed and made sure she was safe before leaving for the dressing room.

The blonde leaned back, lying crosswise in the middle of the bed. Her feet were still on the ground. She hadn't even taken off her boots. Resting her back on a soft, cushioned surface seemed like a divine pleasure. Patterson hadn't realized how much her body needed to rest until she did.

Tasha returned with a gray T-shirt and plaid pants for Patterson, only to find her deeply asleep. She shook her head, sighing in resignation. Then she took off Patterson's boots and changed out of her pants for the pajamas. She placed the blond on the bed with her head against the pillow and covered her with a blanket. Tasha closed the curtains to create a better resting environment. Finally, after changing her clothes, she lay down next to Patterson. Tasha hugged her, becoming the big spoon, and stroked her hair until she also fell asleep.

(Read it on AO3 too)

[longroadstonowhere]

so ages back, i started having this idea for a boku no hero fic, which i like to call 'mon academie heroique' (and no i don't care if any of that is real french)

here's a little snippet of something i've written thus far

(featuring: copious amounts of headcanoning about aoyama's background, little a action as a treat, and me suddenly realizing like five years down the line 'wait why did deku need to save ochako at all, she could've just floated the debris away?????')

Yuuga Aoyama folded himself in half, stretching down to his toes to shake off the tension from sitting so long for the written part of the U.A. entrance exam. That part of the exam had been trés facile, but now the practical exam lay ahead of him. This part he had much less confidence about - after all, he'd been training quite hard for months now, but that was nothing compared to his peers. They'd all had their Quirks for years, and he'd only had One For All for a week. Not a good week, at that - the first time he'd tried using the Quirk, he'd felt as though his arms might have snapped clean off his body, and he'd almost broken his legs when he tried to use them for a basic jog. Luckily his parents had pulled some strings and gotten Quirk-suppression gear for him, so he could activate it without breaking every bone in his body, but this was a power he had to use sparingly, barely at all if possible.

But it was power, and it meant that he could become a hero. That was worth nearly anything.

Still, though, it would have been better if this exam didn't pit them against robots - he would have had a much better time facing off against a real person, someone whose motivations and emotions he could intuit. Many fights could be finished before a single punch was thrown, if you knew the right words and how to say them.

… Of course, Yuuga was still working on the latter part. For some reason, there was a large gap between what he meant to say and what his peers heard. Perhaps it was simply a language barrier? He was bilingual, but outside of his mother and father, his family spoke French much more extensively than Japanese. He was always more convincing in French, he felt. The Japanese, they seemed to find him offputting. It was something to work on, at least, and something to focus on after he finished this exam.

Looking around at the other hopeful students, Yuuga hid his thoughts behind a confident smile. It looked as though the last few students were getting off the bus now, so they'd probably be starting soon. He could almost see the feelings in the air around him - the rigid boy with engines in his legs acting officious to offset his anxiety, another boy with an enlarged arm rolling his shoulders calmly. One girl with green, plant-like hair seemed to be praying, and another girl nearby stared at the ground, likely giving herself a mental pep talk. So many people, all gathered together at this time and place for one reason alone - and he might never see any of them again. Only forty students could pass, after all. He might not even be one of them.

Non! Yuuga thought sharply. I cannot give up before we have even started! I know I will be a bright, shining beacon for all to follow, and this is where it begins. I will pass! I will enter U.A.!

The giant doors to the testing site opened, swinging open faster than Yuuga would've thought possible considering their size. Before the doors even finished opening, Present Mic yelled "GO!!!" over the speaker system. Yuuga felt just as confused as those around him, but with Present Mic reminding them that real life didn't have countdowns, he pushed into the false city along with everyone else, desperate to find as many robots as he could.

The one-pointers were prolific to start, and Yuuga relished the chance to test just how much he could hold back One For All while still destroying his foes. By turning it on for just one second, right at the end of a punch or kick, he was able to blow away each robot he faced without any painful consequences. He racked up seven points in less than a minute, quieting the voice in the back of his mind that still thought this would be impossible. With growing confidence, he started looking for better-valued robots.

He saw a two-pointer turning a corner just down the road from him, so he gave chase. Even without activating the Quirk, he could sprint well enough to catch up just in time to see the robot floating in the air along with several others, then all of them crashing down again. Past it, he saw a girl with brown hair running off, clutching her stomach. That little voice starting to grow louder again. He needed to do something, or else he'd fail this exam, and never become a hero shining above them all -

"Aaaaaagh!" Behind him he heard a boy's scream. Turning, another student with purple, ball-like hair bleeding from the scalp was backing away from a three-pointer. A chance! Yuuga rushed forward and jumped into a side kick, reinforcing his legs at the last moment with a half-second activation of One For All. This allowed him to crash straight through the robot's chest, destroying it utterly. A quick tuck-and-roll ensured he took no damage from landing, and he turned at the end to address his fellow test-taker. "Merci for the assist! Now, I will likely not see you again, so adieu!" After all, what were the odds of seeing another student twice in this chaotic cityscape? Better to separate from other students as much as possible in order to maximize the chances of defeating robots without interference, and it seemed unlikely the short boy could keep up with Yuuga's pace. It wouldn't do to simply run off without saying farewell, though - that would be rude and ungracious.

Matching action to word, Yuuga jogged down the road, leaving the purple haired boy behind. Above his head he heard explosions, and he looked up to see a blond boy with a wild grin on his face blasting himself through the sky above the buildings. Best not follow him, he'll take down anything and anyone in his path, Yuuga decided, and deliberately chose a pathway that would lead him away from the explosive student. This led him to a wide thoroughfare, full of other students and robots to take down. Looking over the impromptu battlefield, Yuuga realized he could use his personnel skills after all. There were plenty of students who were fighting more in self-defense than anything else, and with them to serve as distractions, he could easily score plenty of points. There was a student nearby, a boy wearing a bomber jacket fighting a three-pointer, who would do quite nicely. He was dodging his opponent's blows, but not mounting any counterattacks. Yuuga ran towards the pair and timed his blow so that the robot wouldn't collapse directly onto the other student. Turning to look, Yuuga found he had better timing than he'd planned - the other student had apparently tripped over some rubble and would have been unable to dodge the robot's attack. Comme c'est fortuit!

Yuuga offered a hand to the other boy. "If you are uninjured, there is still time to make up for this."

"Yeah, thanks," the student said as he used Yuuga's help to stand up. "I kept trying to find a weak spot, but it just moved too fast for me."

"The one-pointers are easier to face off against - perhaps focus on those, instead of wasting time fighting an opponent you cannot defeat." After all, while they were competing against each other, there was no reason he could not give friendly advice, correct? There were few one-pointers left in this area, as well - this would mean one fewer competitor for points in this area. A beneficial outcome for the both of them!

The other boy sighed. "Think you're right, I just wanted to… well, you get it. Thanks again, stay safe out there!" With that, he jogged away from the crowded thoroughfare as Yuuga had hoped he would. He was more likely to find one-pointers away somewhere else. Looking around, Yuuga sighted his next target and jumped back into the fray. He lost count of how many points he'd racked up - thirty? Forty perhaps? It was hard to tell sometimes what a robot was worth, and who would get final credit for a creature destroyed by several attacks at once. He envied those with long range abilities - if he could have chosen, he would have liked a Quirk like that. Shooting from afar was much more to his liking rather than dashing right into danger. That wasn't the choice he'd been given, though, and any Quirk was better than no Quirk at all.

After some time, Yuuga realized they must be nearing the end of the exam. That was when he heard shouts from the end of the road, and watched with everyone else as a zero-pointer turned the corner and stalked down the road towards them. As one, the crowd started running the opposite direction, Yuuga amongst them. As he ran, he passed the brown-haired girl he'd seen before get caught by debris and fall to the ground. He looked back at the zero pointer, gauging how much time before it reached her. He'd gotten enough points, right? There couldn't be much time left, but he could spare a moment to help another student. Decision made, he approached the girl. "Are you all right, mademoiselle?"

The girl panted, clearly trying to get her breath back. "Wind… knocked out…. just need a sec….."

Yuuga glanced at the rapidly approaching zero-pointer. "Pardon but you may not have that long. Your Quirk, it can float things, yes? Can you float the debris?"

"Pretty heavy… can't do that and move, I think…" She shifted around. "Gotta try, though - Plus Ultra, right?"

Yuuga nodded. "I can pull you free, but we must move quickly!" Instead of replying, the girl slapped her hands on the debris pinning her down, then pushed them up and away from her. Yuuga grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet, pulling her along the road away from the walking natural disaster following them. He heard her mutter "Release" as she did something with her hands, and the debris crashed down loudly behind them. One hand went to her mouth and the other to her stomach, but she did her best to keep pace with Yuuga. The pair rushed as fast as they could, but Yuuga could hear the zero pointer approaching from behind, faster than they could go. For a moment, he considered leaving the girl behind to make his own escape, but he shoved that thought away quickly.

Just in time, Present Mic's voice rang out over the speakers again. "All right listeners, this exam is OVER!" At that, the zero pointer stopped chasing the pair, and they could finally collapse on some nearby rubble. Yuuga felt a deep exhaustion in every part of his body, and a warning twinge in his legs. Had he activated One For All as they tried to outrun the robot? That was terrifying to consider - if he hadn't been careful, even with the support items he could have broken both his legs and doomed himself. His whole body quivered with fatigue and residual fear. Was this what being a hero was like? In the moment, he'd only thought of how to win points and stay alive, but now he could recall the flying debris, the robot strikes that had nearly struck him, and looking around he could see students limping around with swollen ankles, bleeding from cuts across their limbs, or just lying collapsed on the ground trying to get their breath back. This was just the entrance exam - if this was what was expected of them before they even started, what would classes be like?

Yuuga's thoughts were derailed by the sound of his last-minute comrade emptying her stomach. When he looked at her, she was using a handkerchief to wipe her mouth with a matter-of-fact attitude, like this often happened to her. She noticed his look and grimaced. "When I make things float, it turns my stomach if they're too heavy. Happens if I float myself, too."

"Ah, comprends," Yuuga replied. "I also must be careful with my Quirk." He ignored the small voice saying Liar as he called One For All his Quirk. "I have these gauntlets and boots so that I don't crush my bones each time I attempt to use it."

"Whoa!" The girl reeled back. "That is way crazier than just getting a stomachache if I overdo it! Oh, I guess I should introduce myself, huh?" She held out her hand (happily, not the one she'd held her handkerchief with). "I'm Ochako Uraraka, nice to meet you!"

Yuuga took her hand and kissed it. "Enchanté. I am Yuuga Aoyama."

Ochako pulled her hand back quickly, blushing from ear to ear. "Right! Sure! Hi!" Oh right, the Japanese were so fussy about things like that. Perhaps he'd spent too much time with his French relatives during the winter holidays, or with All Might - his American mannerisms were rubbing off on him, perhaps. He'd have to remember to hold himself back in class to avoid offending any classmates. To Ochako, he apologized. "My mother's family is French, and I've spent a great deal of time with them recently, so I forget the proper greetings sometimes. Pardon."

"It's fine," Ochako said, waving her hand rapidly in front of her. She was still blushing, but she seemed calmer, at least. "I mean, you did help me get away from that robot, so you know, bygones are bygones and all that. Oh! Look!" She seemed relieved as she pointed past Yuuga. "I think that's the school nurse, right?"

[delicris]

school vent post MWAH

anywaysss... basically, i'm in my final year of "high school" (in quotation marks because i could go on for hours about the czech school system and how it's different from the rest, but no one needs to listen to all that, so i'm calling it high school just so you get the broad idea of where i'm at in my studies) and we choose four seminars and then we take a school-leaving exam based on those chosen seminars. czech is mandatory, then you choose between maths and a second language and the rest of the four are completely up to you. for those i chose biology and geography... i've just gotten home from my first geography lesson and there's... so. much.

but there's already so much to cover in that bio seminar, people always advise you to NOT take it, if you don't want to study biology, or you don't need it for an entrance exam to uni, but i DO need it, so i had to choose it. and i love geo and i'm not much interested in any of the other seminars, so obviously i chose geo as the second one, but i had no fucking idea it would be just as bad, if not fucking worse

we have to teach three lessons in the entire year, which isn't even a full year, and you have to make three different forty-minute presentations to base the lessons of... for bio, you only do this ONCE.

there are obviously tests on the orientation on the map, but there are sometimes over 200 places you have to learn, sixteen of which are actually on the test. and you get eighteen of these tests in total, but each time it's a different set of places

and then there are the exams from the stuff your classmates have had presentations on + the geo basics, which make up five topics that are covered in these exams, but that's a shit ton of materials to learn for a single fucking exam you take several times in that one year

AND I DON'T EVEN NEED GEOGRAPHY FOR UNI, YES IT DOES TIE INTO BIO, BUT I. DON'T. NEED IT.

and i forgot the tests on orientation in media, where you're quizzed on the news of the week. every week. i hate the news, i hate keeping up with it, i find it so fucking boring etc etc

but that isn't all... i'm so fucking stupid that i decided to take up sing language because it's a program from our school, so i don't have to commute somewhere, i just go into a different building, BUT THAT'S TWO MORE CLASSES, WHY DID I THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA??

+ i tutor every week, i'm trying to finish getting my driver's licence and i need to start going to the gym to prepare for my entrance exam to uni because they test your physical abilities as well...

maybe this sounds pretty tame to someone, but i've always had a lot of free time to just sit down and do whatever i wanted and now i've been thrown into this whirlwind and i don't know what to do, i've never had to consider my timetable to make plans, i've always had enough time to study and prepare for any exam, but still get an opportunity to just exist... but i feel like i won't be able to have that now and i don't think i'll handle it well

every teacher expects us to always be prepared, to care about their subject, to make time to learn it all and manage all this, but i just... i know i won't be able to, i know that at some point it'll get bad because i don't fucking know how to organize shit, how to be productive, social and mindful of my needs while staying fucking sane

this will be a hell of a year and i can't wait for it to be over already