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fanficimagery · 5 years

Text

Mimic.

Relationship: Peter/Reader Words: 5, 287 Warnings: none. just a cuss word or two. Tags: Fluff and humor.

Imagine working alongside the Avengers and finding out your schoolmate is SpiderMan. The friendship quickly blossoms and you even wrangle Peter and Ned into matching costumes for Halloween.

Sitting in your last class of the day, you work easily as you piece together a video for an upcoming project Mr. Berman had assigned the class. He had preferred that his students piece together clips of their personal lives, but you weren't keen to let any of your fellow peers get that close of a look at your private life. So after a brief, yet tense, conversation with the teacher after class one day, he agreed to let you piece together whatever video you could come up with.

Immediately you knew what you wanted to do, downloading certain clips of your favorite movies and TV shows, and setting them to a song that you knew would hit people in the feels. The teacher had been skeptical at first, but when you showed him what you had so far one day, he was surprised to see the emotional aspect that even left his chest aching and wanting to see more.

It's while you're working on the video that your phone vibrates against your thigh, you glancing around to see where the teacher is at before pulling your phone out. And seeing that he's engrossed in his own computer at the front of the class, you slip your phone out to check the text.

From Nat to Y/N: Meet me out front 15 min after the final bell. To Nat from Y/N: Copy that.

Wondering why Nat is picking you up, your mind starts going off in different directions. So knowing you're not going to get any more work done, you download your project to your portable USB drive to work on over the weekend at home or wherever it is Nat and the others decide to take you.

The final bell soon rings to signify the end of the school day and you take your precious time getting to your locker. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone other than your locker neighbor, Ned smiling at you and nodding in greeting.

"Hi, Ned."

"Hey, Y/N. Excited for the weekend?"

You shrug as you put in your combination. "Eh. I'll probably watch Disney films and order in Chinese food."

He smiles. "That sounds like a good time."

"The best." Ned's friend walks up to him and you subtly straighten, friendly smile in place. "Hey, Parker."

"Y/N," Peter grins. "Excited for the weekend?" You and Ned both laugh as Peter frowns. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing, man. Anyways, lets go. I got that new Lego set we need to start putting together."

Peter's eyes widen as he glances between Ned and you. "W-What? Lego set? Pfft."

You chuckle as you put your backpack inside your locker and make sure your USB drive is safely in your front jean's pocket. "Calm down, Petey. I'm not Flash. I won't think you're a loser if you and your best friend still play with Legos."

Peter looks as if he's going to say something, but his phone pinging stalls him. He reads something on the screen, his smile falling, and Ned sighs. "Postponed until tomorrow?"

Peter smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, Ned."

"No, it's cool." He then turns to you. "Well I guess I'll see you Monday, Y/N."

"Mhm. Laters, Leeds."

Peter scampers off just as you shut your locker, you smiling one last time at Ned as you make your way towards the bathroom. You waste what's left of your time in the bathroom, fixing yourself to look like school hadn't mussed you up. And then when your phone pings yet again with a message from Nat to tell you she's waiting out front, you exit the bathroom.

There are still a handful of students lingering outside and they're all staring at the shiny black car parked by the curb. The windows are tinted too dark to see through, but the car screams money so everyone is interested to see who gets in or out of it.

Groaning quietly, you duck your head and quickly climb inside the car. Then exhaling dramatically once hidden behind the dark tint, you look over to the grinning blonde. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Whatever. What's up?"

"Mission came up. James suggested you."

You sigh. "Fine." You settle back into your seat, frowning when Natasha drives in the opposite direction of the Tower. "Umm, where are we going?"

Switching lanes and then picking up speed, the blonde grins. "Airport. We need a private jet, not a quinjet. We need to be as inconspicuous as possible."

"Ahh. Okay."

The ride isn't terribly long and by the time they pull into the airport, you and Nat are giggling about the boy you currently have a crush on.

"I don't see why you don't just make a move," she says, handing off her keys to some individual who's going to park her car. "You're cute and this kid sounds adorable. Go for it!"

"It's not- I can't," you grin, chuckling softly. "I might hang out with superheroes, but I am not confident whatsoever when it comes to boys my age."

"Mhm. Sure."

You nudge her as you walk towards the jet, Nat walking up the stairs before you. Then plopping down on the seat closest to the door, you ask, "Can someone please explain to me, in small words, why I'm being assigned to this mission?"

"...Y/N?"

Your heads whips in the direction of the all too familiar voice, eyes widening. "Petey?!"

"Petey?"

"Shut up, Tony," you're quick to grumble, cheeks tinting red as you nervously cross your arms over your chest. The dawning, smug realization on Tony's face is enough to make you gulp. Then looking back at a completely flabbergasted Peter, you ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

You and Peter continue to stare at one another, Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky glancing between the two of you with amused expressions.

"Are they blushing?" Bucky quietly muses.

Natasha grins. "Totally blushing."

"Quiet, Natalia," you snap, narrowing your eyes at the blonde.

"As hilarious as I'm suddenly finding you two, lets get down to business," Tony says. "Peter is Spiderman and Y/N is Mimic."

"What?!"

"Mimic?"

You glance at Peter's confused expression, briefly concentrating and willing your appearance to shift right before his eyes. Feeling the rippling complete, you grin at your friend. "Mimic." Your voice is now deeper, yet still very much feminine as you take on the appearance of Natasha.

Peter's eyes are wide. "O-oh."

"Yeah." Exhaling softly, you change back to your normal appearance and glance at the other adults on the jet. "So what's up? Who's gonna debrief me?"

"It's fairly easy," Steve says. "We need a fresh face, someone our enemies have no knowledge of, to blend in. We've landed you an invitation to a party, so we need you to slip into the main office and download some programming onto the computer in there."

"Okay. Is there a possibility of combat?"

Bucky shrugs. "Only if you get caught, but you've got this, kid. You've trained with the best in both hand-to-hand combat and weapons."

"Yeah. I know." You plop down on one of the benches along the wall of the jet. "What else should I know?" You can't help but glance at Peter, smiling softly when you realize he's still staring at you. He hesitantly smiles back.

"Just in case things go sideways, Natasha, Peter, Bucky, and I will be on standby," Steve says.

Glancing at Tony then, he winks. "I'm just going along for the ride since it is one of my jets they're using. I'm too recognizable to be out there with you all. That and because it was my idea to bring in the other kid."

"Okay, well what about Nat, Steve, and Bucky? They're all recognizable too."

"We'll have photostatic veils." Natasha shrugs. "But us with the veils can't be seen acting suspiciously. You and Peter are the only ones with fresh faces."

"Whoa, wait, what? I can't show my face!"

"Sure you can," Tony says. "Don't worry about it. It'll be fine."

Peter looks like he wants to argue some more, but you speak up and cut him off. "Where's my folder? I need to read what's expected me while we fly."

"Sure." Steve walks over and hands you one of the files detailing the mission. "Don't read too fast. We're flying overseas. You have a long night ahead of you."

"Awesome," you deadpan.

- X - X - X - X - X -

Having read over the file front to back and speaking to Steve about what you're to do in case things go sideways, you end up towards the back of the jet with one of Tony's spare laptops sitting on the table in front of you as you work on your class video project.

So engrossed on the screen in front of you, you don't realize someone's taken a seat next to you until your arm is nudged. Turning to your right, you grin softly at a clearly tired Peter and take out the left cordless earbud. "What's up?" You mumble quietly.

"What are you working on?"

"Class project. We were originally supposed to piece together home videos," you say, gesturing to the screen, "but I didn't want people to have that close of a look at what goes on in my life outside of school."

He smirks. "Like the fact that you hang out with Avengers? Or about Mimic?"

"Exactly. So instead I took clips from my favorite movies and TV shows, and placed a song to the scenes."

"Ooh. What song?"

You hand him the earbud you'd taken out with a grin and restart your half finished video for him to watch. "It's called Find You by Ruelle."

Peter settles in and watches what you currently have, and when it's done he glances at you in surprise. "That song is kind of.. hauntingly beautiful?"

"Right?"

"Are you trying to make your classmates cry?"

"Eh. It wasn't my attention, but if they cry at least I know I did a good job."

"Don't worry. You've done an awesome job so far."

Smiling at Peter, you can't help but nudge him in retaliation when his words of praise bring a heat to your cheeks. He knows the effect his words have had you if his twinkling eyes are anything to go by. "Knock it off, Spiderboy."

"Man. SpiderMan."

"Whatever. Wanna watch a movie?"

Peter chuckles and nods. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well since Halloween is just about a week away.." you trail off, saving the progress on your project before closing it out and bringing up your all time favorite Halloween movie.

"Hocus Pocus?" Peter muses. "Aunt May loves this movie."

"Yeah? Well settle in, Petey. We're watching it."

As the opening credits start, you arrange the screen so the both of you can see it perfectly as you lean back in your seat. Then seated back you realize just how close Peter is to you as your biceps are pressed together. He smiles as you lean against each other, earbud in place to hear the movie.

Fifteen minutes in and Peter's gone completely relaxed, his head on your shoulder. You continue to mumble along to the movie- word for word- and lightly smack Peter when he pokes fun at you for knowing the words by heart.

Forty minutes in and your head falls against the top of Peter's. He snuggles in and you smile at the adorableness of it all, and the two of you continue to watch the movie in peace.

You don't know when your eyes slip shut, but they do, and you're only woken back up when a blanket is being tucked around your left shoulder. Sleepily blinking open your eyes, you frown at Natasha. "What-"

"Shh," she quiets you. "We're still en-route. Go back to sleep."

"Okay." You glance to your right and are surprised to find Peter sleeping against you.

Smiling, you let your eyes slip shut once more. "It's him, isn't it?" Your eyes blink back open at Natasha's words. "The boy you like?"

"I-" She grins knowingly and you exhale softly. "It doesn't matter. He's.. Petey. And now that I know he's Spiderman? He's even more out of my league."

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N." Smiling sadly, you shrug off Nat's words and try not to hurt your own feelings too much by realizing again that you don't have a chance with the cute boy asleep on your shoulder. "And for what it's worth, we're pretty sure he likes you back."

"Why do you say that?"

"Boys with crushes talk. And apparently Peter's talked to Tony. A lot."

"Whatever you say, Nat. Wake me up when we get there."

The next time Cap tells you a mission is going to be easy as pie, you're going to remind him of this particular mission. Everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong, and you're the one who walked away with the most damage. You're grateful your identity will forever remain a secret, but it sucks that you don't have any nifty powers that allow you to heal faster. Instead, you're stuck with your average human healing abilities.

"I hate you guys," you mumble as Bucky carefully lowers you onto the jet bench. "I think my shoulder is dislocated."

"I'll take a look." As Bucky carefully cuts the strap to your dress to leave your left shoulder bare, he tuts at what he sees. "Want me to fix it?"

"If you can. Just give me a moment." Bucky hums, but just as you attempt to calm your breathing he's shoving your arm back into its socket. "SON OF A MOTHERFUCKER!" Tony and Peter enter the jet just as the words leave your mouth, Tony smirking and Peter gaping. "You're such an asshole, Barnes!"

"Language."

"Fuck you, Rogers. I'm a measly human. I heal slowly. I'm allowed all the curse words in the world."

Natasha enters behind Steve, smirking. "Cheer up, buttercup. You held your own perfectly."

"Yeah? Tell that to my shoulder, my stomach, and my face."

Steve hands you an ice pack for your face and you take it with a tight smile. "I'm just gonna head back into the bedroom and change. Do you guys need anything else from me?"

"No. You're good," Steve says. "Good job out there, Mimic."

"Thanks, Cap."

Limping back towards the bedroom, you toss the ice pack down while opening up one of the fancy closets built into the wall. You pull out a sports bra, a racerback tank top, and some cotton shorts. Then quickly changing, hissing through the pain, you settle onto the bed and lay down while icing down the side of your face.

Some time later, after you've managed to sit up and settle against the mountain of pillows, there's a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Peter pokes his head in. "Want some company? The adults are a bore."

Smiling tiredly, you beckon him in. "Sure. Come on in, Petey."

As he enters the room, you perk up when you see he's brought the laptop with him. "Mind if I sit? Mr. Barnes also said to give you these. Said that they're your favorite," he says as he reaches behind him into his pocket.

"Not at all." Peter pulls a package from the back pocket of his jeans and your eyes light up at the Strawberry Sour Punch straws he has. "Oh my god. Bucky might have given you the idea, but since you brought me the candy you're officially my favorite, Parker."

He crawls onto the bed with you, settling at your side with the laptop in his lap and hands you the candy. His fingers drum against the closed lid as he asks, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better. I can't wait to get home and soak in an ice bath."

"I bet," he chuckles quietly. Silence briefly settles between the two of you before he's talking again. "So.. Mimic, huh?"

"Mhm. And Spiderman. How did that happen?"

"Believe it or not, it was a radioactive spider." You laugh in disbelief, but he assures you it's true. "What about you? Is it only people you can change into or animals too?"

"Just people," you tell him. "I can shift into another person to match them identically or, as you saw for the mission, change my features to whatever is needed and make up a completely new person."

"That's an awesome super power."

You shrug, blushing lightly. "It has its perks."

Peter grins at you and then clears his throat, opening the laptop up in his lap. "So since we saw your Halloween movie, it's only fair we watch mine."

"That's fair." You open the candy, pulling free a sugar coated gummy straw and bite into it. "Want some?"

"In a moment." Peter searches through the movies on the laptop and you're excited to see what he's going to choose. "Okay. Here we go."

He settles back and gets comfortable, reaching to grab a candy from the little plastic tray they came in. "Casper?" You muse. "Nice choice, Petey."

The two of you fall quiet as the movie starts, you immediately leaning against one another. The candy is quickly eaten and brief laughter is heard throughout the room. The part where Kat is on the verge of sleep when Casper is hovering over her, asking quietly can I keep you? comes to pass and you awe out loud.

Hooking your arm through Peter's, you lay your head on his shoulder. "I don't care if he's a ghost. That's so goddamn adorable."

"You're adorable."

Your heart beats triple, but you keep your cheek pressed to Peter's shoulder to avoid looking at him. "Shush, you."

He chuckles quietly, but does as he's told.

Casper gets turned into a real boy for the final dance of the Halloween party inside Kat's home and Peter smiles as you quietly squeal. The infamous words, can I keep you?, are spoken yet again and Peter can't help but laugh out loud at your reaction.

"Don't shame me. It's so freakin' cute!"

"If you say so."

You and Peter keep the movies Halloween themed up until the fourth movie, you switching it up and putting on UP.

"I love this movie so much."

By now you're laying down, practically draped over Peter's chest. You had originally thought it'd be weird, but Peter went with the flow and tucked one arm behind his head while the other traced random patterns on your back.

"It's great, but the beginning is just so sad for an animated movie."

You sigh softly. "Agreed." You watch Carl and Ellie through the years, your heart aching for the animated couple. "I need more friends," you mumble. "Someone I can strong-arm into dressing up as Mr. Fredricksen to my Ellie. Maybe even get a Russell."

"And Mr. Fredricksen can walk around with a bouquet of balloons." You gasp as you pause the movie, pushing up onto the palms of your hands and hovering over Peter as you stare at him in realization. His smile slowly falls and he quickly shakes his head. "No."

"Please?"

"No, Y/N."

"Come on," you pout. "It's perfect. We can even wrangle Ned into being Russell."

Against his better judgement, Peter laughs. "No. Besides, it's too close to Halloween. We won't find costumes."

"Uh, hello." You swat at him. "We have Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff on our side. And I'm sure your aunt May would just love to help out after we pitch the costume idea."

"Y/N.."

"Peter, please?"

He continues to stare at you until his gaze softens. "Fine."

"Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you." You beam, quickly falling back down on him before you can do something stupid (like kiss his cheek), and press play on the movie again.

With one arm draped across his abdomen and your ear resting over his heart, you can't wipe the smile from your face as you hear his rapidly beating heart thump away.

- X - X - X - X - X -

"Rise and shine, kiddos. It's time to get up." Nothing. You hear the feminine voice, but you choose to ignore it. The arm around you tightens and you turn your face into Peter's chest. "Seriously, guys, get up. As adorable as this is, we've landed."

"Nat," you whine. "Get out."

"Like I said- adorable. You guys have ten minutes."

The door is shut and you sigh, pinching Peter's side when you feel him laughing. "M'sorry I fell asleep on you."

"I'm not. That was the best sleep I've had in awhile." As Peter starts to stretch, you roll over onto your back and do the same. "You always this grumpy?"

"Only when I'm still tired." You whimper and wince at the pain still lingering in your shoulder, and sigh and you sit up. "How's my face?"

Facing Peter, you close your eyes and let him inspect you. "I honestly thought it was going to be a lot worse than what it is. Your split lip is the worst of it."

"Awesome," you deadpan as he scoots out of bed. Then yawning, you gesture for him to go on. "I'll catch up with you later. We'll discuss costumes Monday at school."

"Alright." He lingers by the door and you smile softly at him as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. His face seems flushed, but you've no idea why. "Yeah. I'll just- I'll see you later."

Peter exits the room and you allow yourself a brief laugh. Then making sure your hair isn't a mess, you exit the room where everyone but Peter is lingering around still, smirks on every face there. "I don't want to hear it."

"Adorable," Natasha muses.

"We had to keep Stevie from marching in there and separating you two," Bucky then says.

You wrinkle your nose. "We slept. Well we watched movies and then slept. Nothing scandalous went on."

Tony waffles his eyebrows. "So you gonna ask him out?"

"Ugh. Don't make it weird. We're hanging out on Halloween and I rather not be a stuttering, flustered mess."

"Aw. No horror movie marathon this year?" Steve frowns.

"Sorry, bub." Then looking between Nat and Tony, you ask, "Do either of you know someone in the makeup department who can make latex wrinkles for the face? I need to age up Peter for his costume. And probably a seamstress who can tailor our outfits once we find them."

Natasha immediately shrugs. "Sure. What are you going as?"

Smiling, you tell them. "Mr. Fredricksen and Ellie from that animated movie UP. I'm going to try and rope our friend Ned into being Russell, so we'll also need someone who can make an adult Boy Scout outfit for him."

"That.. is the most adorable thing I've ever heard." Tony says. "Don't worry about a thing. You and your friends stop by the tower after you convince your Russell to join you and we'll get everything squared away. The only payment I'll require is pictures. Pepper loves that movie."

"Done and done. Thanks, Tony."

As it turns out, Ned didn't need any convincing at all after hearing the costume idea. He was immediately game for it all, much to Peter's amusement. And then to make the deal even sweeter, the boys were relieved to learn that Tony Stark himself was taking care of everything they needed under the supervision of the Black Widow. Ned, of course, knew all about Peter's identity, so he didn't really bat an eye about the Avengers doing this stuff for them, but he was curious as to how you fit in. So after a couple days of dealing with Ned's suspicious behavior, you thought it only fair you come clean to him about Mimic.

Needless to say, Ned was super stoked to have two enhanced individuals that he could call friends.

Then in the days leading up to Halloween, Ned and Peter would not leave you be. You were friends to begin with, though you mostly spoke between classes, but now they purposely sought you out- Ned to make sure you guys wanted him to be Russell and Peter because.. well you weren't really sure. He was always smiling, flushed, and kept sheepishly ducking his head when you laughed at something he said.

Halloween was then here and the three of you rushed to Tony's tower to change. Peter was the only one who needed a professional makeup artist to age him up, and then later had a white substance sprayed into his hair and eyebrows for the elderly man look. You easily shifted your features and hair color, aging yourself up and then adding some glasses to match the age you made Peter portray as Mr. Fredricksen.

When Peter steps out in black framed glasses, a white button up, suspenders, and brown corduroy pants, your heart melts. "Oh my god," you gush. "Petey!"

He chuckles. "Looking good, Ellie."

You're wearing a green pant suit and flats, your blazer cinched at the waist with a brown belt, and a purple flower pinned to the right side of your chest. "Right back at 'ya, Carl."

"Alright, Alright. I will admit this is cute," Sam says as he leans against the wall. Mostly everyone had come to the tower to hand out candy down in the main lobby. "You did good, kids."

"Wait for it," Tony smirks. "It gets better."

Another door opens and Natasha walks out, chuckling. "This was seriously the cutest idea ever."

Ned walks out then, a book in hand with a miniaturized version of the movie poster for UP plastered on the front. He fixes his sash- which bears badges for every Avenger, Spiderman, Mimic, Stark Industries, and the logo for their high school- across his chest, beaming. Then walking up to Tony, he opens the book and pretends to read from it. "Good afternoon! My name is Russell and I am a Wilderness Explorer. Are you in need of any assistance today, sir?"

"No."

The group gathered around all laugh and Tony claps Ned in the shoulder. "When Pepper walks in, please say that to her. She's going to love it, kid."

"Goddammit," Sam then grumbles. "You kids gather around. My momma needs to see this," he says while taking his phone out.

"Not yet!" You're quick to say. "Our costumes aren't complete yet."

"No? What the hell else is there? If you got someone to dress up as a bird and squawk at random people, I'm done."

Peter and Ned snicker, shaking their heads. The elevator then dings, and out walk Steve and Bucky with an insane amount of helium filled balloons of every color.

"There. Now you can take our picture."

The balloons get handed to Peter as you and Ned flank him. Bucky also hands over a cane, chuckling while muttering about Peter being the old man now, and the trio have to endure picture after picture.

The elevator dings yet again, this time Pepper being let off. "Tony? What was so important that you made me come down as soon as possible?"

Tony coughs and nudges Ned. "You're on."

Stumbling forward, Ned fumbles with the book. He stops in front of Pepper and nervously clears his throat. "Good afternoon! My name is Russell and I am a Wilderness Explorer. Are you in need of any assistance today, ma'am?"

Pepper's eyes actually tear up as her laugh resonates around the room. "You guys! You're so adorable!"

"Thank you, Miss Potts," Peter says.

"Yes, thank you, Pepper," you smile, waving at her.

Her eyes widen. "Y/N?"

"In the flesh."

"Oh, Tony. Please tell me you got pictures."

"We did. Lots of them."

"While we'd love to stay and chat, we really should go," Peter then says. "We'll walk around for about an hour before coming back here to greet the kids with you guys."

"Sounds good. Have fun, you three," Steve says.

- X - X - X - X - X -

Trick-or-Treating for your own candy is a bit hard when everyone really loves your costume. You have no idea how many times you've been stopped and asked to have a picture taken- either just you, Peter, and Ned, or you three with a child who'd been a fan of the movie- but it's still a fun night nonetheless.

When you return to the tower, it's a full blown mad house. Everyone seems to want to take advantage and enter the tower to meet the Avengers, but Tony and the others had made it clear the candy was for children and those with special needs when it became too much. The overzealous, adult fans had to be turned away and in the end the line outside was cut down a significant amount.

"Has it been like this the entire time?" You ask, sidling up next to Bucky. He nods. "Damn."

"Excuse me, miss? Do you think my kids can get a picture with you and the others in costume from the movie UP?"

Bucky grins. "Looks like you're up, kid."

You turn to the mother who'd asked the question and smile. "Sure thing. Let me just go get them."

So as the Avengers pass out candy to overeager children, you, Peter, and Ned pose for pictures with even more children. Halfway through, however, a familiar tune starts to play throughout the lobby. It's the Married Life tune from UP, the song that plays while the movie flash forwards from Carl and Ellie's wedding up until her death. You giggle, swaying back and forth in place, as the music gets louder. Everyone starts to take notice, oohhing and awwing.

"Would you- would you like to dance?" Peter nervously asks.

You glance at him, eyebrows raising in surprise. "What?"

"Dance. With me," Peter says, gulping. "I'm not the best, but we can keep it simple."

Slowly smiling, you laugh with a nod. "Sure. Lets do this."

Peter takes your hand and leads you out into the middle of the crowd, and you nervously laugh. "Oh my god. Is it weird that I'm nervous?"

"No. I am too."

Meeting his gaze, you furrow your brow as you seem just how nervous he actually is. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah! Yeah. I'm just- excited."

You chuckle. "Okay. If you say so."

With your right hand encased in Peter's left and raised out, near shoulder level, your left hand lays on his shoulder while his free hand goes to your waist. The steps are rather simple, Peter leading you in a box step before turning and then doing it all over again. Every now and then he twirls you, much to everyone's ooh's and aww's, and you always come back to him with a laugh.

"Natasha was right, you know?" He suddenly blurts. "That day on the plane."

"What?"

W-We fell asleep watching movies. Or at least you thought I fell asleep, but I was awake. Natasha figured out it was me who you liked."

Your smile falls. "Peter.."

"I like you too." His eyes subtly widen at his quick admission and you can't help it. You snort and that seems to put him at ease once more. "If anyone is out of anyone's league, it's you. You are so far out of my league. Even Ned makes jokes-"

"Peter?" You cut him off.

"Yeah?"

"Just kiss me already."

He smiles wide before hesitantly leaning in to press his lips to yours, but the moment is ruined when Tony's voice resonates around the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Fredricksen, keep it PG. There are children still here."

You and Peter jerk back from one another, blushing, and you narrow your eyes when you see Sam reluctantly handing over money to a smirking Bucky.

Of course they'd make a bet on you and Peter.

#fanficimagery #imagine #marvel imagine #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter x reader #peter x you #peter parker #marvel #avengers #natasha romanoff #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #ned leeds #pepper potts #sam wilson

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holidaywishes · 4 years

Text

Embers IX

Chapter IX: you and I

Summary of series: Katie moves from Peachtree, Georgia, to L.A. with her son, Alex to start fresh after the death of her husband. When she meets Evan Buckley, a young firefighter, she falls fast but will her son be so quick to accept Evan into his life?

Summary of chapter: Evan starts to realize how “invested” Big Jeff is getting in Katie and her relationship with you, leading Evan to confront Jeff at a concert.

Warning: a little bit of drama but hopefully some fluff throughout

Author’s Note: Alright my loves! How did everyone enjoy the series finale last week? I’ve decided to re-watch all three seasons of 9-1-1 and I’ll keep posting chapters every Monday to make it feel like the show is still going; since we’re not sure when Season 4 will start filming yet. I hope you continue to read these chapters and that you enjoy them! Cheers, xx! 😘

masterlist

the other masterlist

Katie’s P.O.V

“So,” Nick asked from behind you as you attempted to sort out the details of Amber’s concert before she left for her tour, “can I go with her?”

“Go with her?” you laughed, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Wouldn’t that be good for the PR?”

“Nick,” you turned to him, “I want you to think about what you’re saying. I know you. I’ve worked with you long enough to see when you’re being honest and when you’re playing it up for the camera. There’s no camera here, it’s just me.”

“So you know I’m not playing it up...”

“No,” you admitted, “but I do know that I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her. That this isn’t just a PR relationship to you anymore”

“Well...” he stammered

“Well...” you added

“Well, so what? So I like her. So I’m with her for real. What’s the big deal?”

“You need to think about this. Logically. I think the two of you are adorable together and I can see how much you care about her. But I’m not sure she’s as invested in the relationship as you are. At least, not outside of the PR arrangement.”

“I don’t believe that” he argued

“Talk to her about it. Without anyone around. No cameras. No publicists. No fans. No bodyguards. Just you and her. If she says she doesn’t think it’s a PR relationship then, sure, go for it. Ask her if you can join her on tour.”

“Awesome!” he smiled

“But Nicky,” you stopped him before he could walk too far, “don’t get your hopes up too high. I don’t want you getting your heart broken.”

“Thanks, mom” he joked

“You’re welcome kid.” You replied as Nick bumped into Evan when he walked through the door

“Sorry, bro” Nick smiled

“All good, bro,” Evan replied, laughing at Nick’s energy as he bounced away, “he’s in a good mood huh?”

“He’s in love” you confessed, giving Evan a quick peck before returning to work

“I guess that makes two of us” he said, pulling you close to him hoping to get more than a peck

“Three..” you smiled, losing yourself in his lips for a minute before you had to focus on work. “Mmm.. Evan,” you groaned, “I have to finish up this stuff. Amber’s gonna be here in like 10 minutes for her sound check and she’s gotta go over this stuff.”

“10 minutes is plenty of time..” he winked at you

“Evan, please,” you giggled, “just let me finish this. It won’t take long. Maybe two minutes.”

“Can I just stay here and hold you while you do your work?”

“Not if you’re just gonna try to get me to kiss you the whole time”

“What if I just kiss your neck and you can kiss when you’re finished working?”

“Cute,” you laughed, “you’re too distracting. Go sit down.” Evan sighed as he sat down on the couch just to the side of the room while you continued to make sure everything was set up and where it was supposed to be

“I didn’t think you did all this stuff” he asked from where he sat

“What do you mean?” you answered, checking a list that was handed to her

“Like all this tech stuff. I thought you said you just handled all the publicity?”

“Uhh,” you hummed distractedly, “I do. I’m a publicist, so that’s the main part of my job. But Amber is very particular about her sound check so she gives me a list to make sure everything is the way she likes it. So, once the sound engineers and their team set up the boards, I go back and make sure everything on the list is checked off.”

“She always so...” he started, making you look back for him to finish his question, “difficult?”

“Shh,” you joked, putting your index finger in front of your lips, “someone could hear you.” You exchanged a smile before Nick and Jeff came back into the room

“Ah Buck, you’re still here,” Nick said and Evan stood up, “you know Big Jeff right?”

“We met once, yeah. How’s it going?” Evan outstretched his hand to shake Jeff’s, who just huffed at him and headed straight for you.

“The girl here yet?” Jeff said

“Ookayy..” Evan mumbled to himself under his breath, putting his hand down as he sat back on the couch

“No, she should be here soon though” you replied

“The kid really wants to go on her tour. But he wants me to stay back...”

“Nick,” you forcibly corrected, “hasn’t even asked her if she wants him to go. But if she says yes, you’ll have to go.”

“I work for him, not for her. Not for you,” he challenged, “if he tells me to stay back, I stay back.”

“If he gets mobbed or hurt in anyway, it’s on you. Because you were hired to protect him. Hired, I might add, by my boss. Which means you work for her.”

“Okay, okay,” he scoffed, moving closer to you to watch you work, “should he really be back here?” Jeff whispered, referring to Evan

“He’s not bothering anyone.” You said

“He’s bothering me”

“I want him here, deal with it Shrek.” He laughed, making Evan look up to see what was going on, just in time to watch Jeff move his hand to the small of your back; you pushed Jeff away before Evan could say anything

“Everything okay?” Evan asked, walking over to you as Jeff walked away

“Yeah,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him, “it’s just Jeff being Jeff.”

“He doesn’t seem like a super friendly guy,” he added, “he really doesn’t like me.”

“That’s new for you isn’t it?” you joked

“What?”

“People not liking you?”

“I mean... what’s not to like?” he teased

“It’s just his nature I think,” you sighed, “he’s got a military background. So he’s all like ‘programmed’ to be suspicious of everyone. It’s one of the reasons why Raquel hired him as Nick’s Security Detail.” Evan nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist

“You finished yet?”

“Yes. Amber should be here soon, so let’s go out to the stage...”

Evan’s P.O.V.

You didn’t like seeing ‘Big Jeff’ stand so close to Katie but she seemed to be able to handle herself enough for you to respect her space. You watched her take care of her two young clients without losing her temper while they practically fought her every decision; you felt a source of pride watching her that you didn’t expect. When the crowds started piling into the arena and Amber prepared to start her set, Katie took you away from everyone before she had to stand in the wings.

“Hey,” you chuckled, “what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you all day” she said, wrapping her arms around your neck

“You’ve been working”

“Yeah but I got mad at you for blowing me off for work and now I’m doing the same thing...”

“I like watching you work,” you smiled, “it’s very sexy.”

“Oh yeah?” she teased, pushing the two of you into the empty green room at the end of the hall

“Yeah” you hummed against her throat while you began leaving kissing along your neck. You moved your hand up her waist until it reached her neck, cupping her face gently before kissing her deeply; slow and intense. You were trying to make the moment last, to make the most of it, but when someone called out for Katie to come back, you knew that the moment was gone.

“I’m sorry” she apologized, letting her head fall onto your chest

“It’s okay,” you smiled, whispering in her ear as you both left the room, “we can finish this later.” You followed her to the side of the stage just as Amber walked on, greeting the loud crowd of people waiting for her to perform and you had to admit, it was a pretty cool feeling to see the behind the scenes of it all. When the music started and Amber began to sing, you couldn’t help but watch Katie and the smile that grew on her face as she watched the performance, “I thought you didn’t like her?” you asked, yelling over the music

“I never--” she started, “she’s difficult sometimes. But she’s talented. And the people love her. And I’m just.. I’m happy she’s happy!”

“She does look really happy”

“Right?!” she peered over at you before catching a glimpse of Nick on the other side of the stage, “and him,” she pointed to Nick, “I’ve never really considered him the relationship type but he’s so happy with her. I just hope he doesn’t get hurt. He’s a little fragile.” She admitted, telling you she was going to talk to him for a second and kissing your cheek before she floated away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Jeff walked up beside you,

“What are your intentions with her?” Jeff pushed

“Who are you trying to be? Her dad?” you chided

“Just looking out for her,” he countered, “I care about her. And I’m not sure that a relationship with ‘someone like you’ is good for her.”

“Because being in a relationship with someone like you is better?”

“Being with her husband would’ve been ideal but he died,” he said, rather callously, “so obviously she can’t be with him. I just think she needs time to heal, to grieve. You’re not letting her do that.”

“She’s an adult. She can make her own decisions,” you argued, turning your body to face Jeff, who kept his body forward, “I’m not making her do anything she doesn’t want to.”

“You keep telling yourself that” Jeff scoffed

“You think you’ve got her fooled don’t you?” you narrowed your eyes as you spoke to Jeff, “acting like the protective big brother to her favourite client. Looking out for her on his behalf. Playing this role of ex-military guy who’s just ‘doing his job’”

“I am just doing my job” Jeff finally turned to face you, not liking what you were insinuating

“I’ve seen the way you look at her,” you sneered, “the way you touch her and get close to her when you think no one’s around. And the way you talk to her about our relationship, the way you talk to me about our relationship, it feels incredibly... stalkerish”

“You think I’m stalking her?”

“I think you’re overstepping your bounds”

“I think you need to calm down,” he scoffed, “check your ego”

“This isn’t about ego. This is about you needing to respect her and her space. She’s not yours. She doesn’t belong to you. You don’t work for her and she doesn’t work for you.”

“Back off”

“Stay away from her.” You stated bluntly, face to face with Jeff, eyes locked on each other and faces so close that when Katie came back she had to pull the two of you apart away just to get in between you

“You need to watch yourself, Kid,” Jeff added, pointing his finger at you, “you don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“Enough testosterone. Okay” Katie huffed

“Katie,” Jeff grabbed her arm before she left with you, “be careful with him. I think he’s reckless. I don’t think it’s safe for him to be around Alex”

“Stop,” she shook her head as her forehead creased, “just.. stay here and make sure Nick and Amber are okay. I’m done for the night and I have to get home to my son.”

“I’m serious Katie,” he called as she walked back to you, “he’s going to get you in trouble!”

“Just ignore him” she said as she wrapped her arm around your waist. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeff was going to find some way to come between your and Katie but, because you had no proof that he would, you didn’t bring it up to her. You figured that if something needed to be brought up, you’d have to wait until you had something more concrete to bring to the discussion. So, that’s what he did.

#Evan Buckley #Evan Buck Buckley #911 #911 on fox #daily 911 #9-1-1 #9-1-1 on Fox #daily 9-1-1 #masterlist #the other masterlist #tag list #embers tag list

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bewareofchris · 5 years

Text

Public Relations 19/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch. They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev | Part 1

a/n: I just wanted to say that even though I generally am a failure at responding to any sort of comments, I do read them. I just want to say thank you to anyone that has ever left me a comment, you’re lovely and I appreciate you.

Bill must have loved his wife. At some point, he must have loved her. He couldn’t have been enough of a bastard to marry a woman just because she checked a box that he needed checked.

Sure, he was enough of a bastard to realize that he’d simply gotten bored of her. He’d built up a tolerance to the comfort of a well-kept home; he’d grown resentful of her attempts to make him happy. He’d blamed her for wanting more of his attention than he wanted to give; he’d punished her for his own guilt.

But before all that, when she was fresh, and new, and not yet resigned to the limited life he’d been willing to offer, he must have loved her. He must have looked forward to seeing her face in the morning. He must have slid his arm around her back, and leaned into her body in the kitchen. They must have kissed like newlyweds over cups of steaming coffee. He must have listened to her plans for the day; she must have told him to have a good day and that she’d miss him.

(It was just, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember that giddy, electric feeling of falling in love.)

Bill didn’t have a wife to kiss in the kitchen, but he had a hot cup of coffee from the new machine he’d finally purchased for himself. His house was quiet as an empty church but he had his phone, and Alec’s early-morning-thoughts waiting for a response.

Alec said:

What are grits?

They don’t pleasant to eat.

Who thought of that name? Grits?

Is that description of the texture?

I get to go to work today. At least for a few hours.

There must have been a name for the sort of smile that reading those nonsense texts brought to his face. Bill knew there was something ticklish, and dangerous wrapped up in the way he had started looking forward to waking up. He didn’t want to put any words to anything; he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

Bill sent back:

If you’re set on insulting grits, I’ll be forced to bring up blood pudding.

Or really anything that you might call pudding.

And then we’ll have to talk about haggis.

The anticipation of a future response kept a smile on his face all through getting dressed, and morning traffic. It filled up his voice when he said hello to Betty and accepted his schedule for the morning. It kept him company in his office, standing by the window, thinking that he really should get a plant sooner or later.

He really should be doing a good deal of things. He should be looking for a new partner to fill the vacant role. He should be interviewing divorce lawyers. He should be coming up with a reasonable custody arrangement regarding his children, one that he was going to fight for. (Because, removed of his own selfishness he did love his children.)

His phone chimed from his pocket. He was smiling even before he made it e through the lock screen to see the text waiting for him. The conversation with Alec was still open on the screen, but the new message wasn’t from him.

No.

The message was from a phone number he’d memorized, but never programmed into his phone. It sent a spike of something that felt like joy, and anger, and fear coursing straight through his body. It left his hands clenching and his knees feeling just a bit wobbly, just for a matter of milliseconds.

Bill didn’t open it. He spun in a circle like the person that had sent it would be standing behind him. He could imagine exactly what her expression would be, how neutral her smile would be. How perfectly parted her hair always was. He could almost smell the scent of her perfume-and-laundry soap. There was the phantom ache of wanting that was so sudden and so sharp that he could convince himself nothing had changed at all.

But he was alone in the room.

It smelled like yesterday’s vacuuming and a fine layer of dust.

Bill lifted the phone again. He steeled himself against hope-and-disappointment, and he opened the message.

I’ll be back to work next Monday. I’d appreciate the chance to meet with you regarding a few necessary changes.

Oh hell. If he’d been given a thousand years, Bill would never have been prepared to hear from Virginia ever again.

Are you alright?

The text had been sitting in place for nearly a full forty-eight hours. Hardy consoled himself that, should this be the end of something, he hadn’t lost much. A great flurry of texts, and a bit less boredom in his day was all he’d gotten from this ongoing situation.

(But something had changed for Bill. And maybe Hardy had sat like a silly old man and scrolled through everything he’d sent to the man in the past few days. Maybe he’d tried to work out if poking fun at grits was something that couldn’t be forgiven.)

The long-long stretch of silence had left him restless. It had aggravated a condition that he’d been ignoring. While Broadchurch had been able to start the healing process (at least until the trial began), Sandbrook was still an ugly red wound in Hardy’s past.

The Latimers knew what happened to their son; they knew who had done it. They were able to bury their child with some idea that justice would be served. And where justice wouldn’t do, they had enacted vengeance. (Against Miller, who deserved it least.)

Sandbrook was an unanswered insult.

Sandbrook was a quickening of his tired heart.

He sat on his front porch, with his elbows digging into his knees, listening to the sound of the waves. He kept his eyes closed, and his mouth hanging open to draw in the thick wet air. He concentrated on clearing his mind of terrible memory of a little girl’s corpse left to rot in water.

He tried to unwind it from the memory of his wife, standing by a car, whispering: ‘you’ll kill yourself over this.’

Because Hardy wasn’t going to die before he’d finished. If he kept his eyes closed, and he thought about it very hard, he could remember the details. He sorted them out in his mind, rearranging them into familiar patterns. There was an answer in the jumble, if he shook it enough times it would have to make sense.

The chime of his phone, left sitting inside on the counter, dragged him back out of the fog. Hardy squinted out at the brightness of the sun sparkling on the water; he flexed his fingers to work off the chill.

Maybe he told himself that he wasn’t going to run inside to see if he’d finally gotten a response. He told himself that he could make whoever was bothering him wait. (He told himself that regardless of who it was, they deserved to wait.)

But Hardy was already getting to his feet, dragging himself up the few steps and through his door. He found the phone in the kitchen and opened the screen to find that Bill had finally sent a response.

(And Hardy thought, he almost wished Bill hadn’t.)

The woman with whom I had an affair is coming back to work.

I loved her.

Yes, well. Hardy had loved his wife and look how that had turned out. Sometimes it wasn’t enough to love something; sometimes it just didn’t work. Hardy was still trying to figure out how Bill felt about things when the phone chimed again.

I think I was happy before. I haven’t been happy since I got her text.

Hardy frowned at his phone. There was nothing to say, and still he had to say something.

He sent: You don’t have to let her come back.

Bill said: It’s not her fault.

It’s not always about whose fault it is.

It’ll be fine. We’re both adults, and I needed to hire new staff members for a while. I’ll hire one, and she can hire one.

That was the plan of a desperate man. There was no telling if Bill wanted her back or didn’t. There was no telling if he was trying to protect himself from her, or protect her from him. Maybe it was the same thing between them.

All settled then. Hardy sent. So, I believe you still owe me an explanation about grits.

next >>

@it-is-ineffable, @marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @jiffry6969, @stardust-andwine

#public relations: the fic #illogical husbands #alec hardy #bill masters #grouchy bastards in love

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youthincare · 5 years

Link

The report — A Critical Time: A Special Report on Emerging Adults Leaving Children’s Services Care — spotlights the fact that all those affected had been receiving services through a Support and Financial Assistance Agreement (SFAA).

In addition to the six young adults who died in those nine months, the Office of the Child and Youth Advocate (OCYA) responded to 102 young adults who “requested advocacy assistance for difficulties related to SFAAs.” Many of their difficulties were similar to those of the six individuals who died: identified in the report with the pseudonyms Star, Joel, Alex, Morgan, Ian and Jenny.

SFAAs are offered by children’s services to young adults between 18 and 24 years old and provides help with living expenses, accommodations, training, education, medical coverage and other services.

Child and youth advocate Del Graff examined the supports and services available to those entering adulthood. The office travelled throughout the province to listen to young adults and those who work with them, says the report, made public Monday.

Six dead

The report details the lives of Star, Joel, Alex, Morgan, Ian and Jenny and how the system failed the young adults during the nine-month period in 2018.

Four of the six young adults were identified in the report as Indigenous. Each of the six individuals were diagnosed with mental health issues that worsened as they entered emerging adulthood. Many struggled to find supports to address their mental health and substance use.

All six struggled with belonging, isolation and maintaining healthy, safe connections and were impacted by family violence. Many were sexually abused or exploited by people they knew — several belonged to gangs.

Most of the six young adults had periods where they did not know where they would live or find their next meal. Some of them survived by committing crimes or were sexually exploited.

Star, Alex and Morgan died from drug poisoning. Jenny was involved in a collision where she died at the scene. Ian died from suicide, while Joel’s death could not be determined as intentional or accidental.

Recommendations

The age of 18 to 24 years old is a critical period of development, stresses the report. Young adults exiting children’s services may not have the same supports and natural family connections as someone who has not been through the system.

“In 2014, legislation was changed to extend SFAA age eligibility from 22 to 24 years old. This change was the result of the recognition that there was a gap in service provision for this age group,” the report states.

“There are significant milestones and developmental tasks that need to occur for young people during this critical period. They need support and guidance to help them become successful adults.”

The report states there are minimal policy and practice guidelines for how to support young people in this age range.

“Emerging adults need the professionals involved with them to understand the unique characteristics of this stage of development and how early exposure to trauma makes it even more difficult to be successful.”

The first recommendation the report makes is for the department of children’s services to improve policy and practise guidelines, and to provide training and time for staff to support young adults as they move through emerging adulthood.

The second is to have children’s services clearly outline the supports and services young adults are entitled to receive under a SFAA and they should be connected to adult services, as required, before their SFAAs end.

The third recommendation is for the department to provide young adults with access to adequate and safe housing options.

“Supporting young people as they enter adulthood is essential because this developmental stage lays the foundation for the rest of their lives,” stated Graff.

“For this reason, they must be supported to learn the skills they need to be healthy, contributing members of society.”

Changes coming to SFAA program

The report comes at a time when the government has decided to lower the age of qualification to 22 from 24 for the SFAA program. About 480 people in the program will age out when the rule changes next April. Graff alludes to this change in his report.

“I understand there will be changes to SFAA legislation in the upcoming year. Effective support is critical for young people as they move through transitions in early adulthood,” Graff stated.

“I expect my recommendations in this report, along with relevant recommendations made in other reports, will be acted on to improve services for Alberta’s young adults.”

Children’s Services Minister Rebecca Schulz said the government’s data showed there was a “natural drop off” of young adults accessing SFAA at the age of 22 and her government will be reviewing the program as a whole to determine if there are any needed policy shifts.

“No matter what age that transition happens, what we have to look at is whether or not that transition is happening smoothly,” said Schulz.

Schulz said she agrees with the intent of the recommendations and the ministry will meet with OYCA to learn what those changes will look like.

The Opposition NDP called on the government to reverse its decision to drop the age requirement.

Opposition critic for Children Services Rakhi Pancholi said she had learned through the government’s website two young people had died by suicide in the last 11 days as they were transitioning out of government care.

“We believe that this speaks to the vulnerability of the young people who are transitioning out of care and into adulthood” said Pancholi.

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gray-autumn-sky · 5 years

Text

Sleepless in Seattle, Chapter 15

October 9, 1993- Seattle, Washington:

Roland’s eyes widen as he pulls a letter from Connecticut from the mailbox. His smile is immediate and his first impulse is to run inside and make his dad open it--and then, his smile fades. His dad hasn’t even opened that first and perfect letter; he probably wouldn’t open this one.

Forgetting about the rest of the mail, he examines the envelope. It’s not as nice as the first one--the envelope is just plain white--and the handwriting on the front looks very different. He flips it over, again, checking the return address and he notices the same apple stamp as the first--and that detail makes him grin again.

Chewing at his lip, he debates what he should do, and with a groan, he examines it again--and this time, he realizes that the envelope isn’t addressed to Robin Locksley, it’s addressed to him, to Roland Locksley.

A tight but excited grin stretches over his lips as he stares down at it, and he can barely contain himself. It’s rare that he ever gets mail, and even rarer that he gets something this exciting.

He looks at it one last time before he shoves it into his back pocket and reaches for the rest of the mail, knowing that his dad will be suspicious if he comes back empty handed.

“Dad! Dad, I got the--”

He stops, listening as his dad and Belle talk in low, whispery voices.

“No, we’re not going out again,” he says with a little sigh. “It just… didn’t feel right.”

“I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon,” Belle says, her voice calm and soothing as she talks to his dad the way she talks to him whenever he gets a bad grade at school or has a dream that makes him uncomfortable. “There are tons of women out there.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, tip-toeing closer to the living room and peering around the wall. “Like Regina.”

“I know,” Robin says, chuckling softly. “I just forgot how exhausting dating was.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

Robin’s eyes roll. “You and Ruby have been together for years.”

“That doesn't mean finding her was easy.”

Robin grins. “I seem to remember you coming over from your very first date with her and proclaiming to me and Marian that you’d found the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with.”

“Details,” Belle says, shrugging dismissively. “Still doesn't mean finding her wasn’t rough.”

“I got the mail,” Roland announces a bit too loudly as Robin’s eyes roll. “Nothing exciting,” he says grinning as he drops down the stack. “Just bills and coupons and stuff.”

“Oh--”

“Nothing worth reading.”

Robin’s eyes narrow.

“Well, I’ve got homework to do. So, um… I should, uh… get on that.”

“Yeah, you… should,” Robin calls, watching as he runs off, taking the stairs two at a time.

He gets to his room and shuts the door, pressing his back to it and sliding down, so that if anyone tries to open it, the door will get stuck and he’ll have time to hide the letter.

Grinning, he pulls it out of the envelope. It’s thicker than the last time, he realizes as he tears it open.

And the first thing he notices is that there are three parts. The first--and the one he reads first--has a yellow post it note on it that says “For Sleepless in Seattle.”

Dear Sleepless in Seattle,

My name is Henry. I am Regina’s son.

Roland grins--responding to this letter will be much easier. He won’t need Gus or the thesaurus to look up big, impressive words like he did the last time.

My mom is a journalist and she’s been working on this story for a really long time. It’s on you.

Well, not you exactly, but the radio program you called into on Christmas. She recorded it for the article and she listens to it all of the time. I know that sounds a little creepy, but I swear, it’s not. She just really likes you and really likes your story, and when she listens to it, something happens. I can’t quite tell what it is, but it means a lot to her, and I think she’d like to meet you.

“Of course she does!” Roland says to himself, the excitement in his voice more than evident. “We wanna meet her too… even if my dad doesn’t know it yet.”

My mom’s best friend, Mal, is always talking about signs and fate and people being destined for each other. She’s pretty sappy about stuff like that, but my mom has never bought into it. It’s just not her thing. She’s always been super practical about stuff, even love.

Roland grins at the word love.

“The reason I am writing is because I think my mom really likes you. I like this could love you even.

“I knew it,” Roland whispers to himself. “I knew it.”

He reads a bit more, flipping over to a separate paper that looks like it could be part of a newspaper--and this too is meant for his dad. He doesn't understand most of it, but he gets enough to know that Regina Mills is really into his dad--and given the conversation he overheard between his dad and aunt, his dad is looking for someone really special--someone like Regina.

Then, he gets to the part that has a yellow post-it with his own name written on it.

This might sound crazy, but my friend Lily is really into this sappy old movies. One of her favorites is An Affair to Remember. It’s pretty boring, but there’s one cool part that I think could work perfectly to get your dad to come and meet my mom. We just gotta work on ‘em and convince them to do it.

“This guy is brilliant,” Roland says, reading over Henry’s plan to have their parents meet on the top of the Empire State Building on Christmas Eve. Henry isn’t sure of the details--and truthfully, neither is he--but Henry is confident they can work something out, and whoever Lily is sounds like she’s going to help them.

Tucking the letter back into the envelope, Roland gets up, opening his door and running down the hall to the phone by his dad’s room. Picking it up, he waits to hear a dial tone, and then punches in Gus’s phone number. He taps his foot as it rings and squirms as Gus’s mom goes to get him, and when he finally hears Gus’s voice on the other end of the line, he grins.

“You gotta come over now.”

“I have math homework. My mom probably won’t let me”

“I don’t care,” Roland says impatiently. “Tell her you’re coming over to do it here. We’re in the same class and all. She’ll buy it.”

“That is true and you are pretty good at subtraction.”

“Yeah, I am, but we are not doing subtraction. We have something way more important to do. We’ve got another letter to write.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Roland tells him, grinning. “I’ll fill you in when you get here.” He glances toward the stairs; his dad and aunt are still talking--and he hopes they’ll be too distracted to talk to Gus’s mom when she walks him over. “And hurry! I wanna put this thing in the mail tomorrow.”

_____

October 11, 1993- - Greenwich, Connecticut:

Henry grins as Lily comes into the living room with an armful of snacks—and his eye catches a big, unopened bag of Doritos.

“Okay, kid, I‘ve got all the stuff our moms would say we shouldn’t have for dinner—popcorn, two kinds of chips, rice crispy treats and—“

“You should get the ice cream to go with that bag of marshmallows.”

A grin pulls onto Lily’s lips. “I like the way you think.”

Henry giggles as she drops the snacks she's already collected down onto the coffee table, and as she runs back to the kitchen, he grabs the bag of Doritos and pulls it open.

He loves when Lily gets to babysit.

It’s a rare occurrence, but when she is allowed to, they always have a blast, filling up on junk food and falling asleep after playing video games until way past his bedtime.

The only time Lily ever gets to babysit on her own is when their moms have girls nights—and while he’s not sure what they do when they go out, he doesn't really care because he and Lily always have so much fun together.

But tonight, they won’t be playing video games or watching movies until they fall asleep—tonight, they have bigger plans.

“Okay, so, your mom had two kinds—chocolate and this cinnamon—“

“They’re sooo good together!”

“yeah?”

He nods as Lily shrugs. “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”

“You won’t regret it,” Henry says. “You scoop both kinds of ice cream into the same bowl then add marshmallow and—-“

“We aren’t using bowls.” Lily grins as Henry’s brow furrows. “I don't want to have to do the dishes so we are going to eat straight out of the carton. Not only do I hate doing dishes, you have no idea the lengths I went to to make my mom need a girls night out on a Monday.”

Henry’s grin brightens as Lily hands him a spoon. “Cheers,” she says, clanking her spoon against his before they open up the ice cream. “Dig in.”

Henry grins and does as he’s told, and for a while, the two of them just sit there, at the coffee table, gorging on snacks.

“You know,” Henry begins as he dips a dorito until his ice cream. “You wouldn't think that nacho cheese chips would be good with chocolate ice cream but, it totally is.”

“Everything is good with chocolate.”

“So true.”

Taking a large scoop of ice cream, Lily shoves her spoon into her mouth. “Okay, we have a lot of work to do.” Henry watches as she reaches for her back back, dragging it to the coffee table. “I got some books on New York from the library at school.”

“Cool.”

“Okay, so, the Empire State Building is open until two in the morning on most days—“

“That's plenty of time!”

“Yeah, but you’re going on Christmas Eve, so the hours are going to be different. Unless—“

“Don’t say we should pick another day!” Henry cuts in. “I already told Roland Christmas Eve, and this is already going to be hard enough.”

“You really think this Roland kid is going to be able to get all the way to New York from Seattle with his dad in tow on a major holiday, like Christmas?”

Henry nods and takes another dorito, dipping it into his ice cream. “Uh huh,” he nods. “He says he can. He’s got some guy named Gus helping him. He sounds like an uncle or something.”

“Okay, good,” Lily says. “At least he has an adult helping him plan this.”

“Yeah.”

“So, can I just assume that Roland and Gus are going to figure out a way to get his dad to New York? I don't have to figure something out for him?”

Henry nods. “He says they’ve got it covered.”

“Good.”

Henry nods, looking out at the stacks of books on the coffee table. Planning their part alone is overwhelming, so he can’t imagine having to plan Roland’s part, too. “Hey, Lily,” he murmurs, looking up. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“What do they do when they go out, anyway?” Lily looks up. “I mean, are you sure we have enough time? What if they come home and--”

Lily shrugs. “Right now, they’re getting drunk off their asses, then they’re going to eat a bunch of bad, greasy food and drink a lot of crappy diner coffee to try and sober up before they come home to us. We have the whole night. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Henry blinks, frowning as he considers it--usually his mom eats so healthily and likes to be in bed by ten, especially when she has to go to work in the morning, and her outing with Mal wasn’t exactly something she planned for. “Oh. I hope they’re okay.”

Lily grins. “It’s good. They’re having fun. Promise.”

“Guess that explains why she’s so grumpy the day after they go out,” Henry sighs, shrugging as he takes another bite of his ice cream. “She gets bad indigestion from greasy food.”

A tight grin pulls onto Lily’s lip and her eyes roll. “Yeah. That's it. Indigestion, not a hangover.”

“What’s that?”

“A hangover?” Henry nods and Lily laughs. “It’s like a bad headache after you drink too much.”

“Have you ever had one?”

Lily blinks and for a moment she just stares at him. “This isn’t about me. It’s about your mother and how we’re going to get her on top of the Empire State Building on Christmas Eve.”

Henry nods. “We could ask to go,” he suggests. “I bet you can see the Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center from the top. That would be really cool to see!”

“Yeah, it would be,” Lily agrees. “But what if she says no. New York isn't exactly around the block.”

“Yeah,” Henry says, growing. “That's a good point.”

“Luckily, you have me.” Henry grins and nods. “So, I think we should start planting seeds now, and make your mom thing going to New York for Christmas is her idea.”

Henry blinks. “Have you ever met my mom? There’s no way—“

“What if my mom thought it was a good idea.”

Henry’s brow furrows. “This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?”

Lily grins and shrugs—and then, for the next several hours, they hatch out a plan.

Lily starts by calling around to some of the the theatres on Broadway, asking about what shows they have playing on Christmas. She and Henry settle on a performance of The Nutcracker, and to Henry’s surprise, Lily pulls out one of Mal’s credit cards and purchases four tickets on the spot. His eyes widen and he asks why she has one of Mal’s credit cards, Lily shrugs and tells him it’s not her fault that Mal forgot to ask to have it back after allowing her to take it to the mall to get a new pair of winter boots.

Henry’s eyes narrow, not quite believable, he also doesn't care.

After they secure the tickets to the show, they plan out the rest of the day, culminating with ice-skating at Rockefeller Center.

“Now, here is where it’s going to get tough,” Lily says, biting down on her lip. “You’re going to have to do something kind of extreme.”

“I expected that,” he says, looking down at a map of New York City. “And I completely expect that if this doesn’t work out, my Mom is going to murder me.”

“No, she won’t,” Lily insists. “But… my mom might murder me for helping you runaway in New York City.”

Henry grins and shrugs. “Unless, she’s so happy for my mom, all is forgiven.”

For a moment, Lily considers then scrunches her nose. “I don’t know. I’m literally sending you off into one of the most dangerous cities in the country, to meet some strange guy so you can score your mom a date she doesn't want.”

Henry frowns. “I don’t care what she says. She wants to do this. She just doesn't know it.”

“Or maybe she does and she’s just scared to admit it.” Lily beams, reaching over and nudging him. “Hey, I’m really proud of you, kid. This is really sweet of you, you know that?”

Henry shrugs, focusing at a subway map in one of the guidebooks, trying to figure out the best way to get from Rockefeller Center to the Empire State Building.

“Seriously,” Lily says, nudging him again. “ Even if it doesn’t work out—“

“It will,” Henry interjects, still not looking up from the confusing map. “It has to.”

“But even if it doesn’t, it’ll be worth getting grounded until the end of the century for.”

Looking up, Henry giggles, grabbing another chip from the bag and popping it into his mouth, feeling quite satisfied with himself. “And lucky for us, that’s only six years.”

Lily’s eyes roll as she grabs one of the hide books and he giggles again, crossing his fingers as he again tries to figure out the subway map.

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stunudo · 6 years

Text

BAU Prep School AU: Class of 18

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link)

2016- 2017 Class of 2018 Previous Chapter: Adjustments

Sidelines

February 14, 2018 4:08pm

The daycare was just North of their place, but it also happened to be the opposite direction of the Institute. JJ had insisted on driving separate since soccer season was coming up and she didn’t want to start a routine to have to adjust it in two weeks’ time. Which left Emily with pick up duty. It was a brisk afternoon, winter lingered, and she made her way in towards the infant pick up desk. Emily hadn’t told JJ, but the staff were always rather short with her. Perhaps because she wasn’t Henry’s biological mom or because she wasn’t a semi-famous athletic model type, either reason she chose to kill them with kindness in return. Let them deal with their own baggage; she had a baby to snuggle into his seat.

It was Valentine’s Day, a milestone that hadn’t escaped her radar, despite having had a rather romantic weekend at home with JJ. This was their first Valentine’s after everything that happened last year, and Emily had a few tricks up her sleeve. Henry would just have to accompany her for the final details.

JJ had been itching to get the field prepped and try out exercises nailed down, but the weather was not cooperating. She ran sprints in the gymnasium, using the bleachers for extra resistance. She was excited about the coming season, knowing her veteran players would be solid leaders for however many new faces made their way onto the roster. She had stayed in her capris, sports bra and over-sized tank top from her eighth period Yoga class. Something she never thought she would be enjoying teaching, reiterating that self-discovery is a never-ending process.

When she had scribbled enough notes on her clipboard and her own stink started to overwhelm her, she headed home. Windows open and music loud, she invited the chilly winter air as she thumped her palms against the steering wheel in time with the drumbeat. Her sweat had frozen in against her forehead by the time she got home, the bags and clothes slung over her shoulders as she stomped up the steps to their home. Emily’s car was already in the driveway, JJ silently begged she had cooked. She was assaulted with heady scents and spices; the kitchen was filled with food. A tired, yet appreciative smile grew on her face as she spotted Henry in his high chair.

“Hey! You’re early!” Emily accused, but smirked as JJ snaked an arm around her waist.

“Pretend I’m not here, I need a shower, but it smells fantastic.” JJ kissed Emily’s cheek before slipping away from her girlfriend at the stovetop.

A half hour later and they were seated at the table with wine in hand and easy smiles. Henry had fallen asleep in his spot between them, but they didn’t want to move him and risk waking him, yet.

“So, you cooked?” JJ raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, well… Yes, I did the heating, but it was from one of those prep stores.”

“I would have settled for leftovers, Em. Thank you, it was a good idea.”

“We’re going to see each other a lot less soon,” Emily mused. “And since it is Valentine’s Day, we figured we’d surprise you.”

JJ laughed at Emily using Henry as a co-conspirator. Their eyes locked across the table, bright and playful, yet feelings that ran so deeply just below the surface.

“We should clean up,” JJ sighed.

“We should, but not now,” Emily stood, pulling JJ from her seat and walking her upstairs. As soon as their mouths broke apart, she reassured JJ, “I left the baby monitor on, he’s fine, love.”

Monday Feb 19 7:25am

Hotch opened the door to his office to an unexpected visitor, “Good morning, Alex.”

“You’re usually early, Aaron,” she didn’t get up or seem upset. Her large lips full, holding back an immeasurable amount of ammunition. His guard was raised, but she didn’t strike, she sat quietly as he settled in for his morning, sipping her coffee from home. He sat down, her eyebrows were ticking upwards, the impatience no longer masked.

“What brings you by, first thing, Monday morning?” He bit back a smile, knowing she was not amused with his overt friendliness.

“Why did you keep Simmons on staff after Coach Jareau came back?” She came out of left field, but it wasn’t aggressive, it was as if she were a prying psychologist or a detective. The bell rang out across the grounds, the school day at begun, but she had no class this period.

“The Board and I agreed we need to continue to expand our courses, Matt Simmons has a breadth of knowledge that is crucial to building future leaders. Is there a reason his permanence upsets you?” Hotch countered, cool and thorough.

“I was curious, he seemed kind of like a dark horse of a hire in the first place. Not like Luke, stable,” Alex was saying more than the words she used.

“It’s been a while since a new position was created, but that probably wasn’t wise on our parts. Are the students questioning the changes, I know you hear more than they think you do” Hotch asked, genuinely concerned now.

She gave him a half smile, “More than anyone thinks I do.” She sighed, placing her empty cup upright into her bag that leaned against the leg of her chair. “I have not heard any negative comments from students on the changes or on his placement.”

“So, these are personal reservations?” Hotch leaned forward, eyebrows cinched.

“Perhaps.” Alex popped the p’s, face indifferent and calm. They regarded each other, her a vintage beauty with untapped mental capacities and he a golden boy champion of underdogs. The uncertainty in her motivation left him searching, she stood and grabbed her things.

“Staff meeting still three weeks out?”

“Yup, have a good one,” Hotch replied, sitting back in his chair, amused by and questioning her mercurial nature.

Tuesday, March 6, 4:01pm

The fields were hard, and the grass was a dull blanket across the grounds. Their breaths clung to the frigid air, layers insolating, to be discarded the longer their bodies burned. The girls came in every color and shape, their voices distinct on the carrying breeze. He never got tired of watching a pass connect from seeming impossible gaps in space and time, Jareau ran her team with unwavering support and structure. Luke Alvez stood mesmerized, watching girls that usually refused to answer a question aloud dive for the sidelines, charge the defenders and spin around to do it over again, never stopping or backing down. The playing field was an entirely different universe and he was proud to be part of a program that brought out the fighters in the students. The tough-as-nails tenacity that the world would test over and over again, alive and thriving in pure competition.

He wore a fleece zip up and his pair of uniform pants from the boys’ season, he felt naked without shin guards on, but warm. He knew Grant hated how early she insisted on using the pitch, as the seasonal weather hadn’t let him get it up to standard. He smirked at the distressed expression he had been given when he told his boyfriend that he was going down to check out the lady Submariners. It was the cusp of Grant’s busiest stretch of the year, so Luke knew not to linger when Grant would have dinner waiting for them.

Hannah was the clear leader both on and off the field, her midfield position perfect for mediating and observing. They were running passing drills, weaving in and out of each other in twos and threes to help navigate their lanes and ball handling without looking down, too often. He heard more enthusiasm than he thought a bitter afternoon could muster in those usually prim and coiffed teenagers. Cissy helped Maya and another freshman by explaining the drill on the sidelines before their turn in the rotation.

A terse whistle blast sent the group sprinting to the top of the slight hill, Jareau’s voice carrying as they got their rhythm down. Luke shuffled back towards the pathway towards the main buildings and away from the football field. A well aimed ball hit him between his shoulders as he strolled off, he tensed but turned with a big grin.

“Hey, walking here,” he teased, tapping the ball back to Coach Jareau.

“Yeah, like what you see or just miss the action?” she volleyed, juggling the ball as the team continued behind the adults.

“A little of column A, a little of column B. Why?” Luke’s chin jutted out, sensing a reason for her pursuit.

“Can I ask you a favor?” JJ’s eyes melted into hopeful groveling.

“Shoot.” They talked and passed the ball between them as the plans began to solidify. The team bored with the drill started on a new activity without their Coach or teacher noticing. Hannah and Cissy guiding the girls into groups and worked on headers and controlling the ball with other parts of the body.

Friday March 9 3:13pm

Elle answered the phone with a quick apology to the clients in front of her.

“Tell me again, we’re doing the right thing,” Spencer’s voice croaked in a rushed whisper. She smiled into the mouth piece, rolling her eyes gently.

“Spence-,” Elle began, but was quickly cut off.

“No, I know it’s the right thing for us and I like to think it is the right thing for her too, but, ignore me. Only child guilt slipping through, it will pass, and come back eventually in passive aggressive banter and indigestion.” Spencer looked out across his A.P. Physics glass, watching their faces contorted in misery at the equations in front of them. Pencils and erasers rustling against the quiz sheets.

“If you’re having second thoughts, we don’t have to do it this weekend,” She also whispered, not wanting to pressure him, yet slightly worried he would back out of their plans.

“It’s more like five hundredth thoughts, but no, rethinking hasn’t done anything to change my decision. I just seek reassurance because I don’t want to become my father.” Spencer swallowed, trusting Elle like he had no one before.

“None of that. Two different circumstances entirely. I have clients, but I will call you on my way?” Elle gave the people waiting on her an apologetic glance, their half hour appointment slipping away with each minute of her conversation.

“Sounds good, love you.” Spencer hung up the old phone on the wall.

“Back at you.” Elle sighed, bringing up the case file and applications back to the center of her desk. “Gracias por esperar. Su reunión con el abogado está programada para la próxima semana. Continúa como has estado y tu solicitud se procesará en dos o tres meses.”

The rest of her day was a paperwork and following up for clients’ services. She hurried out of the small office building as the Friday night commuter traffic groaned to a halt on the overhead interchange. Elle sat in her car and dialed Spencer’s new cell phone number.

“I’m going to be late, backroads will be quicker, but I wanted to warn you.”

Spencer paused, checking his watch, though he knew the time from both the phone’s screen and his innate internal clock. “Take your time, we have all weekend to get her settled, I just thought she would like to ease her way in.”

“How are you holding up?” Elle put her keys in the ignition and let the car’s warning bells whistle as she waited to put on her seat belt.

“Better, thanks.”

“And Diana?” Elle followed, listening to his breaths and hesitations as scrutinous as his words.

“She’s watching Jeopardy and laughing, it’s like it doesn’t faze her or she hasn’t realized its happening.”

“Spencer, stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” Diana’s voice jeered from the background, he squinted his eyes, he hadn’t realized she had heard him.

“Maybe you should listen to her,” Elle taunted.

“It will be so much easier when you don’t gang up on me all the time.” Spencer muttered. “Drive safe.”

Elle hung up and got settled, mirrors and belt in place before creeping into the soul-sucking reality of bumper to bumper traffic. Just two more days and she and Spencer would be living alone, the last thing she had hoped for during the past year of recovery. Sometimes miracles do happen.

Mon, March 12, 7:28pm

They really didn’t have much to go over, Hotch just kept talking. He did this sometimes, drawing out the agenda until people’s minds wandered enough to bring up tangential concerns or frustrations. Once the teachers relaxed, he could really gauge how their semester was going. Call it a calculated observation or an interrogation technique, but it worked, nine out of ten attempts.

“Plans for Alumni Association Gala have started, and I think it is going to be quite a surprise for everyone, really,” Penelope offered. “Besides that, I am not really working on much, personally.”

“Let us know what you need and when, Penelope,” Headmaster Hotchner offered, giving her a supportive nod. “Stephen how is everything on the entertainment end of the Gala?”

“Good, yeah, the kids really don’t start their numbers until after Spring Break. But we have a good assortment this year. Should be another fun night.” Stephen’s deep voice replied, “I don’t know about you, but I am just looking forward to the food.”

Everyone laughed, agreeing in various exclamations. “Lord, keep that man from retiring for as long as possible.” Jordan Kyle added, drawing everyone’s attention to a shared look between her and the Band Teacher.

“Uh, you can’t say something like that out of the blue.” JJ tisked.

“I mean, in general,” Jordan tried to down play it. “Look, if anyone is due for retirement around here, it’s me. But that is not happening anytime soon, these kids aren’t getting off that easy.”

Stephen cleared his throat as the speculative stares bounced around the room. “Anyway, the Gala is gonna be lit, as the kids say.”

The moment passed with patchy relief laughter, Hotch making mental notes to follow up with more than a few of his staff for one-on-ones.

March 15th 12:48pm

The muted clacking of fingers on a keyboard wafted through the half-open door. Michel knew that meant she was there and willing to see anyone, especially them, but they lingered just outside of the guidance office during sixth period lunch. There were four unopened letters in Michel’s backpack, from places near and far. Places that meant so much more than D.C. suburb of white bread snobs and politician spawn; places that meant escape. That was why they had waited, because the possibilities were scarier than Michel had imagined. Now that the answers had arrived, decisions would have to be made and the inevitable fork in the road would be taken.

“I can see your blazer, just get in here already,” Penelope snarked. Michel sighed, a soft huff of a laugh burst through their lips as they turned around, dramatically entering with their head held high. Penelope snickered, “Why were you being all creepy out there? On your phone? You know Hotch would snatch it if you took too many selfies in one of his blessed hallways.”

“Selfies need better lighting than this school provides,” Michel replied, falling into their usual spot on the couch of contemplation. “Guess what happens to be torturing me at this very moment. I will give you some hints: Ivy, Beach, Paris and Apple.”

Ms. Garcia’s face twitched with each word, until realization dawned on her contoured features, “You got your acceptance letters?!”

“Well I got letters, I haven’t opened them yet. I have been stalling, but should I?” Michel looked to their dear confidant and inspiration.

“Of course, you should, but don’t you want to do it with your parents, at home?” Penelope gaped, exhilaration getting the better of her composure.

“Nope, don’t need their opinions clouding my mind, thank you very much,” Michel held up a hand as if to block the imagery.

“Well?!”

In a tizzy, Michel tore open all four envelopes without looking at them, eyes scrunched shut until Ms. Garcia came over to take one at a time, like the final puzzle prize envelope on Wheel of Fortune. Four letters, four acceptances, four shredded envelopes littering her office floor.

“I am so proud of you! You can go anywhere! I need pictures, no matter what.” Penelope demanded, holding their sweaty thin hands in hers.

“Of course, oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Sweet freedom is coming, I can feel it!” Michel stood up, clutching the papers to their chest like a favorite stuffed animal. “I don’t think I am going to ever throw these away, they will be buried with me.”

Penelope stood and hugged Michel, swaying slightly until the bell broke their revelry. In a flurry the letters were tucked back in Michel’s messenger bag and they waved a brisk farewell. Penelope watched wistfully as her favorite student, though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone but Derek or Michel, headed to Emily’s class with a bright future at their feet. She squirmed on the spot as it began to eat away at her. She shuffled over to her desk and dialed Kate’s office on the internal phone lines.

“Kate? Can you be my shoulder because I am kind of having a moment and I don’t want to bug Derek and Hotch will question my professional stability?”

Wed. March 21 4:12pm

Midterms were right around the corner, sending the weekly tutoring sessions into a near panic. Spencer and Derek were fielding questions for a half hour before they got some unexpected help. Sr. Alvez stopped by because he had wanted to see if his students that were hovering at the low end of the grade borderline had taken his advice. They had not, but that didn’t stop one half of the foreign language department from sticking around.

“You guys do this every week?” He asked impressed, yet slightly pitying.

“Uh, yeah, how do you think I manage to have a full roster every season? This is a year-round effort.” Derek explained slyly.

“It’s nice to see you, Luke, though I do wish Simmons would stop by, Korean is not my best language and that’s the biggest concern for half of the new faces this month.” Spencer nodded to the table that was obviously housing everyone but athletes.

“Wait, you speak Korean?” Luke ducked closer to watch Spencer’s eyes spark and eyebrows hitch.

“Barely.”

“And Russian.”

“I read Russian, I haven’t spoken it aloud in four years.”

“Quomodo ergo tu Latine?” Luke bated the science teacher.

“Honestum,” Spencer didn’t miss a beat.

Derek eyed the subtle yet star-eyed soccer coach and the bean pole Brainiac. Suddenly, he somehow felt like a dumb jock in this scenario and he didn’t like it. He decided he was being petty, and walked it off, ducking down to overhear students while he paced the library. He caught the librarian smiling briefly at him behind a shelf, but she was gone before he could even return the gesture. Something weird was going around.

Next Chapter: The Scavenger Hunt

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theinvisiblespoon · 6 years

Text

So here’s the thing:

(Just personal dilemma and my thoughts; trigger warning for mental illness including ADHD, anxiety, and especially depression; gun mention, school shooting mention, suicide mention (it’s pretty brief).)

I’m beginning to choose my classes for my next year of high school.

Context:

I have three mental illnesses: ADHD, depression, and anxiety. I have only been taking ADHD meds since late 2017 and started antidepressants at the lowest dose about five-ish weeks ago. It was just bumped up recently.

I’ve been living with mental illness for a while. It’s alright, last year was really tough, but I’m managing and getting the help I need. I now have a therapist and a psychiatrist.

A week or so ago, I talked with my dad. We’ve started to grow closer than we ever have been; communication has always been an issue. I said something along the lines of “it’s hard when I’m not feeling well to do simple things, like getting out of bed.” My dad and I talked about that for a little, but I could tell he didn’t quite get what it is like to have this. One rarely knows about anything unless they have gone through it themselves, and even then it is debatable. He was trying to understand, though, and that meant a lot.

I am very lucky to be in such a diverse and accepting area where race, sexual orientation, gender identity, etc. is understood. If not understood, respected. If not respected, accepted. I can go by the name and pronouns I choose, not the ones I’m born with. It’s awesome.

My parents were divorced...wow, a while ago. I was young enough to vaguely remember and old enough to understand what it meant. My parents, while still disagreeing on many things, both care for me and respect that the other cares for me. The divorce was good; I didn’t have to go to court or have to decide which parent to live with. I have split time, switching on Mondays, and my parents have begun to date others again but still work through issues with each other because they know it is the right thing for all of us.

My mom particularly has found an awesome guy. They are stupidly in love and probably won’t get married. When they argue, it is only arguing, and usually about something stupid. Before the end of the night, they are saying that it is their fault to the other. They grow and learn from each other, and work to improve. They are both there for each other, and it’s awesome to see that stupid smile on both of their faces when talking about the other. They most likely won’t get married because they don’t feel they need to.

Getting a psychiatrist (someone who prescribes meds for mental illness) took a long time, and I didn’t understand why until a couple days ago. My mom and I were talking, and when we talk, my mom tends to ramble and it leads to other and sometimes deeper conversations. I asked if my mother’s boyfriend had a mental illness, and she answered that he has depression. But, because of bad psychiatrists and bad doctors in general, he has lost faith in doctors.

I was surprised to hear this; the psychiatrist I have is awesome. She doesn’t just ask if I’m okay, she asks how I’ve been feeling, how the meds are affecting me, what is common in people with these mental illnesses, how the meds work, how the mental illnesses work, and has given advice on how to deal with anxiety and depression when it gets bad. She recommended the 504 plan, which is a plan at the school that helps people with mental illness succeed in school. For example: longer test times, extended due dates, being able to walk out of class if it is too much. She even takes my blood pressure at the beginning of each meeting we have.

My dad has ADHD, and my mom has ADHD, PTSD, and one or more things, I think. They both have experiences with many types of psychiatrists. During this conversation, she talked about how many psychiatrists will just ask if you are okay and prescribe meds.

Now I know why getting a psychiatrist took a long time; they were looking for a good one.

This struck me as odd. It shouldn’t be so difficult to get a good doctor to help you with mental health, but it is.

With people I know well enough, I am very open about mental illness. When I first got on antidepressants, I told my friends the news happily. The reason why I don’t tell everyone (because I totally would) is because of this whole stigma against mental illness. I honestly don’t understand it; according to the World Health Organization (WHO), 350 million people worldwide suffer from depression. It is a leading cause of disability. One in six U.S. adults lives with a mental illness (44.7 million in 2016), and an estimated 49.5% of adolescents [have] any mental disorder. We should be having discussions about this. It should not be one of those topics most people feel uncomfortable talking about at Thanksgiving, like politics or sex.

However, even in the rather open community where I live, it is still very difficult to talk about.

Trying to explain this to my dad, for instance, took a lot of effort and deep-thinking, and then the message didn’t quite get across. All the while, even I felt a little uncomfortable.

Society in its entirety has this view of mental illness that damages a lot of people to the point where many don’t seek help.

Theo Bennet says, “If we don’t recognize mental illnesses as physical health issues, then we will never get people the treatment that they need. One of the few certainties that I have learned from living with a father with bipolar disorder is that mental health is just as important as physical health. In fact, mental health is physical health; the two are inseparable. It baffles me that many people continue to make a distinction between the two.” I have had to stay out of school some days because my mental state was so bad, but you can’t easily get a doctor’s note for that, so it was rarely excused.

Especially with the tragedy in Florida, many people are focusing on the fact that many shooters have mental illnesses. While the Trump Administration is giving money to certain departments-- 8.6 billion to the Department of Veteran Affairs and one million to the Children’s Mental Health Services program-- the budget blueprint also slashes spending for the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration by $665 million. Additionally, the National Institute of Mental Health would see a 30 percent reduction in funding — a half a billion dollar decrease — in 2019. In a statement Trump gave soon after the Florida shooting, he talked about mental illness but made no mention of guns. Earlier in his presidency, he repealed a regulation that made it so people with mental illnesses could buy guns more easily.

This is not what we should be focusing on. Many school shooters have mental illnesses, but most people struggling with mental illness are not school shooters.

Even in things like domestic abuse, people think first of physical abuse. But, the research indicates that [psychological abuse] is just as bad and, in some cases, may be worse.

What I’m trying to say is; mental illness is very real. It can be a monster to the people who have one, but the people who have one are not monsters.

It is important to talk about this. It is important to talk about everything we don’t talk about just because it is uncomfortable to do so; especially because it is uncomfortable to do so. Whether it be mental illness, sex, rape, abuse, or anything else.

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), in my case, makes it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything. When one multitasks with a lot of things, the brain jumps around from thing to thing, making it difficult to focus and remember; this is the best example I can give for what it is like to have ADHD. My thoughts are incredibly scattered. Doing things like homework is a nightmare. At the same time, I can get hyperfocused. The best example of this is reading. I’ll start reading a book and realize that I finished it, and when I look up it has been several hours since I’ve moved. My teachers often say that I am bright and intelligent, but I need to “apply myself.” I haven’t studied for anything for years but still get As on quizzes and tests. It’s a myth that ADHD drugs make you smarter; what they do is help compensate for the lack of certain hormones one has and brings it up to a normal level. It helps people with ADHD with concentration, not intelligence. I am on ADHD meds now; it is going pretty well.

Anxiety (General Anxiety Disorder or GAD). That anxiousness you feel before you take a test is the type of anxiety I feel a lot of the time, for seemingly no reason. It has spiked in class a lot of times, and that panic just becomes overwhelming. Quick tip: a good breathing exercise that helps me is in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. I don’t rely solely on it, but it does tend to ground me. When it does spike, my throat feels weird and it is difficult to breathe (hence the breathing exercises) because my whole body is actually tensing up, and it is literally difficult to breathe because my throat is tighter. I play music or do something to distract myself because for now, that is all I know how to do. This disorder sometimes leads to panic attacks, and it has a lot in the past.

Depression is one of those big ones, where the media often portrays it as someone looking out the window on a rainy day. This, particularly, is difficult to talk about for me, because last year it was really bad. The details I will keep to myself, but I will, of course, still discuss it. Depression isn’t just feeling sad, it’s more of an absence of emotion over a long period of time. I didn’t see the point in getting up in the morning, and my lates rose dramatically. In this absence of emotion, at least for me, it becomes an ache and a constant longing for something I can’t reach. Last year, I began to isolate myself. I didn’t take care of myself because I did not see the point in it. It wasn’t healthy in any capacity. (I’m a lot better than I was then, don’t worry.)

So, now that you have context: I’m beginning to choose my classes for my next year of high school.

I’m smart enough to take AP courses, but because of the way my brain works, I know I absolutely cannot handle the workload. I understand all the material for this year, I pick up on it immediately, but the workload is always what kills me.

While yes, I hate school, it sucks, I want to learn about math and science in higher level courses, and I want to do more with my electives in performing arts. The school district I am in has a lot of opportunities; I want to take music theory, creating music with technology, acting studio, choir, band, be in improv club and the play in the fall and the musical in the spring but I just can’t handle all of it. And it sucks that I can’t do what I love.

I only have one elective this year, and will only have one next year. I also am required to take only two years of history and three years of math and science. If I can not take history and/or math next year and push it over to Junior/Senior year, I might be able to have two or three electives, but this is only if this is allowed.

I want to be able to come to a compromise. Doing what I like for homework is easier than doing what I don’t like for homework, even with mental health issues. I would still fulfill all of my requirements and do what I love while accomplishing more at school if they allow me to push back a class or two a year.

I feel like this is a fitting analogy for how society should deal with mental illness-- understanding and compromise. Helping people with their mental health to succeed at what they want to do instead of pointing at mental illness as “the problem.” If we can come to this as a society, a lot more people can succeed, the suicide rate would go down because more people would feel like they have somewhere to turn-- overall, those with mental health issues would be helped instead of being blamed for something they cannot control and have no one to help them with.

Please, stop the stigma against mental illness. It’s not helping anything.

#update #trigger warning #mental illness #adhd #anxiety #depression #gun mention #school shooting #suicide mention #this is a pretty personal topic #i share a lot about myself #and my opinions on mental illness #so buckle up #i hate essays but i think i just wrote one #whoops

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epacer · 4 years

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Education

Grades Can Only Go Up: New Details on San Diego Unified’s Online Learning Plan

As officials are rushing to gear up for the “soft launch” of San Diego Unified School District’s online learning plan by Monday, key details are starting to emerge:

● Students grades can only go up, not down, depending on the amount of work they accomplish, said board vice president Richard Barrera.

● Teachers will be able to choose from one of three levels, depending on whether they are beginners or advanced, to deliver an online curriculum, according to emails obtained by Voice of San Diego.

● District officials will create new learning objectives, which are significantly reduced compared with traditional common core standards.

● Officials also hope they will be able to expand the school year by several weeks or at least be able to offer an expanded version of summer school.

● Special education services will not be delivered to the same extent they were before schools shut down.

The new online learning system will officially launch on April 27. That’s when graded work will begin. Until then, educators are expected to be learning the new systems and working with their students to the extent they are able, Barrera said.

“This is really building the plane as you are trying to fly it,” said Mark Schwarz, a fifth-grade teacher at Alice Birney Elementary. “Our No. 1 concern is our students and making sure they get some modicum of instruction.”

Like other teachers, Schwarz is watching online trainings and working to create virtual classrooms on Zoom and Google Classroom. The district will also lean heavily on Canvas and Seesaw, two other online learning platforms.

Minjuan Wang, a professor who studies online learning at San Diego State University, said those are some of the best platforms currently available for online learning. Wang teaches all of her classes online and uses Zoom, among other programs. SDSU will also soon move to using Canvas, which is one of the best learning management systems available, she said.

San Diego Unified is currently in the process of running professional development seminars to help teachers get up to speed on teaching online. But Schwarz said he is also turning to his peers at school for support and feedback.

An email sent to teachers referred to three different models of online learning that will be available to teachers, depending on their experience level with online teaching.

The first level is “recommended for schools and educators at the emerging stage of delivering instruction through distance learning.” Educators at the first level will receive “district-provided instructional materials.” There is also an advanced level for “educator-led blended instruction” and a middle level for “hybrid instruction.”

It’s unclear how much online interaction beginner-level teachers might have with their students and exactly what district-provided materials will be given to those teachers.

District spokeswoman Maureen Magee did not respond to a detailed list of questions about the district’s online learning model. Wendy Rank-Buhr and Tavga Bustani, two administrators heading up the development of the new program, also did not respond to requests for comment.

“I think even Level 1, in order to do this in a meaningful way, is going to require some investment” from teachers, said Schwarz, who is in his 21st year of teaching.

Barrera was unable to provide detailed information on the three models available to teachers. He did say, however, that the district plans to only allow students’ grades to go up from where they were when schools closed. State guidelines include that approach as an option for educators to consider, although it’s unclear if mandating that plan would violate state laws indicating teachers have the final say over student grades.

“The general idea is that no students are harmed, but students can improve,” said Barrera. If a student had a “B” in geometry before the shutdown, for instance, that student would maintain a “B” regardless of how much work they complete, once official online learning begins.

That means seniors whose grades might be slightly below what’s needed to graduate, will have the opportunity to raise their grades enough to get a high school diploma.

Barrera said district officials anticipate fewer students will participate in online learning than generally show up to class every day during normal circumstances. District officials are working on a plan to distribute computer devices with internet to students who need one beginning Monday and continuing in the following weeks. Unlike some other districts, San Diego Unified already has student devices available paid for by past local bond measures. Barrera said the district will provide free internet to all students who need it, but no deal has been struck with providers yet.

The state’s Common Core standards lay out what a student is supposed to learn in a given course during the school year. But it would be impossible to try to achieve the same standards through online learning, said Barrera. District administrators are accordingly working to whittle down the standards to their most essential elements for online learning.

Wang, the online learning expert, agrees this is the correct path to take.

“Online learning is perfect for adults and graduate students,” she said. “But for high school and elementary school students it is too early for them to be completely online.”

Kindergarten through 12th grade students are usually captives to the educational experience, Wang said. Now, they will likely be presented with more opportunities to get out of their work. She juxtaposed that with graduate students and adult learners, who are usually taking online courses because they want to.

Barrera said non-classroom teachers will bear much of the burden of trying to track down students who aren’t logging on.

Teachers still have lots of questions about how online learning will work, said Kisha Borden, president of the local teacher’s union, the San Diego Education Association.

“We are not going to be spending an entire school day on a computer, so what is that going to look like? What are the expectations of time spent?” she asked.

Barrera was not able to provide a detailed answer to that question, but he did say the amount of time spent on the computer will vary significantly between grade levels and the kinds of lessons teachers design. Some teachers might offer full classroom Zoom meetings, while others might assign projects.

“Right now, we are hearing a lot from parents with varying levels of stress, frankly,” Borden said. “I think we have to be cognizant of the impact this is going to have on families as well. Some families are very lucky and have the means to support their children.”

Parents at home and not working “have a lot more time to sit down and support children at home,” said Borden. While “parents doing full-time jobs, working from home, or are not at home and are going out of the house working are not able to help, so that’s going to be very difficult for a lot of people, or people with three to four of their own children.”

How to provide special education for students with physical and learning disabilities will also be a huge problem for educators to figure out. Borden said teachers have not yet received guidance about how they are supposed to handle Individual Education Programs, or IEPs, for students who require special services.

“It’s a matter of figuring out how to provide those services at a distance,” she said.

Barrera acknowledged special education services would be diminished from their usual standard.

“We know for students with disabilities in particular and English learners and a lot of other students, the best of what we can do online will never be good enough,” he said.

Doing nothing, however, would have created even bigger equity issues, said Barrera. Had the district not moved to some form of official online learning, many students who lack resources would have been left behind, as more well-heeled parents found ways to continue their children’s education.

The “ideal” would be for state officials to pay for an extended school year, Barrera said. San Diego Unified would like to extend the school year by five weeks, he said, or at bare minimum be able to offer an extended version of summer school. Barrera said this would give the district the maximum opportunity to make sure no students fall massively behind while California schools and businesses remain closed prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus.

But that will certainly cost more money, he said. The biggest cost for school districts is people, by far. And paying to keep staff on for an extra five weeks would be costly. San Diego Unified and Los Angeles Unified have asked the state for an additional $500 per student for districts all across the state. For San Diego Unified, that adds up to about $50 million, and Barrera says it would likely be enough to extend the school year.

Without an extension, it’s possible new costs to transition to purely online learning will be offset by some savings from classroom closures and allow the district to break even in the final months of the year, Barrera said. Utility costs, for instance, will not be as high, and finance staff is analyzing those savings, he said.

So far, state officials have only agreed to increase funding due to COVID-19 closures by roughly $17 per student, according the San Diego Union-Tribune. *Reposted article from the VOSD by Will Huntsberry and Ashly McGlone of April 2, 2020

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yesthatssadirichardslove · 4 years

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As crisis deepens, congressional rescue deal teeters WASHINGTON

Top-level negotiations between Congress and the White House teetered Sunday on a nearly $1.4 trillion economic rescue package, as the coronavirus crisis deepened and President Donald Trump called for a deal to steady a shuttered nation.

Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin indicated an agreement was within reach. But faced with mounting opposition from Democrats who call the package insufficient, Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell postponed a planned procedural vote Sunday, resetting it for 6 p.m.

With a population on edge, societal norms rewritten and financial markets shell shocked, all sides were hoping for an agreement that would provide some relief against the pandemic's twin health and economic crises, now believed likely to stretch for several months.

“Americans don't need to see us haggling endlessly,” McConnell warned, his voice rising on the Senate floor. He wants passage of the package by Monday.

But Democrats say the package does not go far enough to provide health care and unemployment aid for Americans, and caters too much to big business.

“We’re continuing to talk,” said Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, while House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said Democrats would be putting forward their own draft bill.

This as the first senator, Republican Rand Paul of Kentucky, announced he tested positive for COVID-19, the infection caused by the virus. Paul, who is a doctor and close ally of the president, said in a tweet he was not showing symptoms and was in quarantine.

A growing list of lawmakers have cycled in and out of isolation after exposure, and two members of the House have said they tested positive in recent days.

Earlier Sunday, Mnuchin express optimism a deal could be reached with Congress.

“It will get done," he said on “Fox News Sunday, saying the plan was meant to prop up the nation's weakened economy for the next 10 to 12 weeks.

“I think the president has every expectation that this is going to look a lot better four or eight weeks from now,” Mnuchin said. “If for any reason, 10 weeks from now with this virus we haven’t won this, we’ll go back to Congress again.”

Yet while the congressional leaders worked to send help, alarms were being sounded from coast to coast about the wave of coronavirus cases about to crash onto the nation's health system. New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio had dire, urgent news from the pandemic’s U.S. epicenter: It’s bad and only getting worse.

“April and May are going to be a lot worse,” de Blasio said on NBC’s “Meet the Press,” begging for Washington to help procure ventilators and other medical supplies. De Blasio accused the president of “not lifting a finger” to help his hometown.

“If the president doesn’t act, people will die who could have lived otherwise,” he said.

Trump has defiantly pushed back against criticism he was slow to respond to the crisis, though he continues to send mixed messages as to what, exactly, the federal government is doing.

In recent days, he invoked the Defense Protection Act, a rarely used, decades-old measure that allows the president to marshal the private sector, but officials said Sunday that it has not actually been used to compel the private sector to manufacture supplies like masks and ventilators. The president tweeted Sunday that automakers General Motors and Tesla were given “the go ahead” to make ventilators and other products.

Trump lashed out at the Illinois governor and "a very small group of certain other Governors" for being critical of the response. He tweeted that they should not be “blaming the federal government for their own shortcomings.” He added: “We are there to back you up should you fail, and always will be!”

Federal Emergency Management Agency Administrator Peter Gaynor said on ABC's “This Week” that masks are being shipped from the national stockpile but he could not provide details on a concrete timeline. Gaynor could not say, despite being pressed repeatedly, how many masks would be shipped and when they would arrive.

“I mean, there's hundreds of thousands of — millions of things that we're shipping from the stockpile," Gaynor said. “Will we ever have enough? I’m not sure.”

The urgency to act is mounting, as jobless claims skyrocket, businesses shutter and the financial markets are set to re-open Monday eager for signs that Washington can soften the blow of the healthcare crisis and what experts say is a looming recession.

At issue is how best to keep paychecks flowing for millions of workers abruptly sidelined by the crisis. Talks also narrowed on a so-called Marshall Plan for U.S. hospitals — evoking the postwar effort to rebuild Western Europe — as well as loans to airlines and other industries all but grounded by the national shutdown. Gov Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan said Sunday the auto industry would also likely need government assistance.

Officials put the price tag at nearly $1.4 trillion and said that with other measures from the Federal Reserve it could pump $2 trillion into the U.S. economy.

Mnuchin said Sunday that workers and businesses will get assistance to help cover payrolls for the next 10 weeks; unemployment insurance; and a one-time “bridge payment” of about $3,000 for a family of four.

The treasury secretary said a significant part of the package will involve working with the Federal Reserve for up to $4 trillion of liquidity to support the economy with “broad-based lending programs.”

Hospitals, Mnuchin said, will get approximately $110 billion for the expected influx of sick patients.

But Democrats have pushed for add-ons, including food security aid, small business loans and other measures for workers — including jobless aid for those in the so-called “gig” economy not traditionally eligible for unemployment checks.

A senior Democratic aide unauthorized to discuss the talks and speaking on condition of anonymity said the package provides only three months of unemployment benefits, does not provide eviction protections and creates a $500 billion “corporate slush fund” that does not put enough restraints on how big business will spend the money.

There is also a $242 billion proposal for emergency supplemental food, hospital and public health needs, including for the Centers for Disease Control.

The details are coming from drafts of both bills circulating among lobbyists but not yet released to the public. They were obtained by The Associated Press.

Trump has said companies should not be able to use federal assistance to buy back stock in an effort to increase profits. However, the buyback provisions are "weak" in the draft text, according to a person unauthorized to discuss the emerging package and granted anonymity. The restrictions on buybacks could be waived by the treasury secretary, the person said.

The draft also suggests a two-year ban on executive pay hikes, while some lawmakers want stronger limits.

For most people, the new coronavirus causes only mild or moderate symptoms, such as fever and cough. For some, especially older adults and people with existing health problems, it can cause more severe illness, including pneumonia.

The vast majority of people recover from the new virus. According to the World Health Organization, people with mild illness recover in about two weeks, while those with more severe illness may take three to six weeks to recover.

#yesthatssadirichardslove

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faithfulnews · 4 years

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Enroute Romania-bound

For Manda Pidgeon, the journey to bring the hope of Jesus to Rroma people in Romania began quite unexpectedly in 2006 on a mission trip to Papua New Guinea, when she audibly heard God speak the word Romania.

‘I’d been praying God would use me for his purposes, but until this time, I didn’t know the direction he would lead me. When this happened, I didn’t even know Romania was a country! I kept the experience to myself and continued to pray.’

The following day, God placed another piece in the puzzle.

‘My half of our team departed Milne Bay Province to reconnect with the rest of our group in Port Moresby. Upon arriving, I hadn’t yet jumped out of the back of the ute when a girl from the other half of our group ran up to meet us.’

“Manda!” she said. “I’ve been praying about this, and I think you’d be good in the orphanages in Romania.”

“So, it’s a place then?” Manda asked.

She is the first to laugh about just how far she’s come by trusting God to bring about his purposes in her life. Thirteen years later, Manda, her husband, Josh, and their daughter, Isla, are in the exact sweet spot God always intended for them in this time of their lives. They are now moving to Romania to follow the desire God’s placed in their hearts.

God began preparing Josh’s heart to care about Romanian people and culture before he’d met Manda. But when the couple discovered God had given them both this common interest, they felt God had not only blessed each of them in being united with the other, but also for a future of working together for his purposes.

Manda and Josh Pidgeon, with daughter, Isla

God has prepared Manda in his time, slowly helping her place each puzzle piece as he revealed it, so that Manda and Josh are now ready to be vessels, pouring out God’s love onto Rroma communities; Romania’s most isolated and misunderstood people.

With a background in childcare, Manda’s heart was initially captured by the need to bring God’s love to children in Romania’s orphanages. She learned about orphan numbers so high that children were being denied the simple gesture of regular human touch – with tragically detrimental consequences on their development. However, while Manda knew she could step into this role and felt God was patiently continuing to bring Romania into sharper focus, she lacked certainty about making such a big decision to go.

“OK, God,” Manda said. “I think I really need you to convince me that you want me to go. If you want me to go, I’ll go, even if I don’t yet know what you want me to do there.”

Soon after, a church friend recommended a book to Manda for her encouragement. But when Manda popped into Koorong after work to buy it, was disappointed to hear it was out of print. Thinking she ought to also start investigating the Romanian language, Manda asked if they stocked Romanian Bibles. Again, the cashier broke the sad news that she would have to source one elsewhere.

A little dejected, Manda thanked the cashier anyway and turned to leave.

“Excuse me,” said a lady over Manda’s left shoulder. “This might be a coincidence, but my husband and I work with a Romanian church in Spain. We’re returning from home assignment on Monday. Would you like us to send you a Romanian/English bible when we get back?”

“Um, sure, that would be great, thank you!”

Manda gratefully exchanged details with the lady and explained why she was enquiring about Romanian bibles.

Then Manda noticed a man hovering nearby her right side. He said something out loud in another language, but Manda wasn’t sure if he’d been talking to her. There was no one else around so she bravely decided to check.

“Sorry, excuse me?” she said.

“It means ‘God Bless You’ in Romanian,” he said.

“Oh, so you’re Romanian?”

“No, I’m Brazilian. But my wife’s parents are missionaries in Romania. Just a minute, I’ll get her.”

The man returned with his wife and son. How strange it felt, that there were now five people standing at the counter, none of them Romanian, but all with a shared connection of God’s heart to bring the hope of the gospel message to Romanian people.

“OK God!” Manda said. “I asked for confirmation. I think you’ve made it clear. I’ll go.”

Manda discovered online that International Teams were already present in Romania. She applied and was accepted as an International Teams Australia worker to serve as a member of the team in Timisoara. On 20th May 2008, she landed in Timisoara, Romania, ready to do God’s work.

Former communist leader, Ceausescu’s ideology had left a devastating legacy on the country. During his dictatorship, he’d instructed the population to have as many children as possible to create an army for himself. Sadly, whilst over 100,000 babies were born, there now remains almost an entire generation of people with varying disabilities and trauma because of the severe lack of care, love and value placed on them since birth.

For the next two and a half years, Manda obediently brought love to abandoned babies, including those who had developed physical and mental disabilities due to a lack of stimulation and interaction. She helped bring wellbeing and therapy for teenagers and young adults living with disabilities in one of Romania’s many institutions.

Manda participated in running English camps for Romania and Serbia’s youth. Her first real exposure to Rroma people was during such a camp in southern Serbia. She was intrigued by how different their community structure was. In Australia, children are brought to a central location for an experience run by a specialist group. Here, the lack of trust meant that opportunities had to be brought to the Rroma, so the whole community had awareness and a level of control over what outsiders introduced.

The Rroma community felt foreign to Manda and was overwhelming at first. Compounded by warnings from others that she was entering Gypsy communities and not to take anything of value lest it be stolen, Manda was initially uncomfortable. But God soon opened her eyes to the love he had for the youth who attended the workshops.

“It very quickly became apparent these youth presented no threat. They wanted love like any child does. They didn’t want what was in my pockets, they wanted to know that they were of value, that they had worth and that they could belong in some form or other. When we presented the gospel to them, several of them came to Christ because they realised you can be part of God’s family without changing your nationality or personality; that a Rroma person can become a Christian without becoming a western Christian.”

So it was that Manda’s passion for bringing the hope of Jesus to the Rroma people was sparked. God continued to grow Manda’s heart for the Rroma. She returned to Australia, attended Sydney Missionary Bible College (SMBC) and prepared herself for further time on the mission field.

There are an estimated 12 million Rroma living across Europe, with up to 3 million of those in Romania. Exact numbers remain a mystery for these almost-invisible people, many of whom are born at home and have no official identifying paperwork, and therefore no access to education, employment, health care and other things we take for granted.

But Manda also learned there were already many Christian workers around Romania seeking to reach the Rroma across a broad range of ministries. Some had been there for thirty or more years, had seen the country go through communism and the struggles that ensued thereafter. Their long-term experience, by God’s grace, led to some wonderfully effective ministries.

However, there was nothing in place for wisdom gained through service to be shared, or for cooperation to be promoted. Although every Christian worker Manda learned about served with a humble heart and earnest desire to reap fruit for God’s Kingdom, the isolated nature in which many worked often hampered their effectiveness and increased the difficulty of their ministry.

In one village, a young couple started an after-school program for the local Rroma children, but lacked the resources and support needed to effectively bring God’s love to the children and their families. Manda also became aware of a project begun by Christian workers to translate the Gospel of John into one of the Rromani dialects. They didn’t know their hard work was a duplicate of work already in progress by another missionary group in another part of the country. Manda recognised that Christian workers faced unique challenges in working with Rroma communities, created by hundreds of years of stigmatisation and marginalisation from mainstream society.

Thus, in 2014, God inspired Manda’s vision to create the Rroma-Workers Network (RWN) to Encourage, Equip and Empower Rroma workers to reach Rroma communities with the gospel. With support, guidance and facilitation from International Teams Australia, the RWN purpose crystallised to become a platform through which Rroma workers could access tools, knowledge and resources already available, seek support and offer it to others. It would build bridges between needs and the means to fulfil them.

Fellow Christian Rroma Workers gather in support of one another at the 2018 RWN conference.

The last four years have seen Manda and Josh steadily build a life together and strengthen the outworking of the RWN vision. With Josh’s support, Manda continued to build the RWN website. In 2016, she ran the first biennial RWN conference; so workers connected through the RWN could meet and encourage one another, enjoy respite from the daily demands of their ministries, learn and be equipped to return to their ministries with enthusiasm and renewed purpose.

In 2018, with the help of a team working in Romania, the RWN website was launched. Existing and future Christian workers across Romania could now also connect online to network, share ideas and resources, ask questions, inspire others and be inspired.

With their combined skills in administration, organisation and technical development, Manda and Josh continue to listen to God’s leading and work hard on developing the RWN, the fruits of which are already abundant. Workers discouraged in their ministries have been inspired to try something new by learning other pathways to success. They are encouraged to persevere when they realise problems they face are common to working with many different Rroma communities, not just their own. Manda and Josh are pleased to already see challenging burdens lessen and workers gain a better work/family life balance. Ultimately, the greatest encouragement is to see that Rroma people are receiving the hope of Jesus through Christian ministry.

Now, from their base in Ramnicu Valcea, Romania, Manda and Josh, with their daughter, Isla, will continue to facilitate the RWN and provide more effective on-the-ground support for workers. Over the last year they’ve raised awareness of their ministry and feel the blessing of God on their intentions as God has provided many to partner with them in prayer and financial support.

If you would like to help Manda and Josh, they’d love you to visit iteams.org.au/pidgeonjm to join their prayer community and/or to pledge a regular monthly donation to enable this much-needed ministry. Email [email protected] if you’d like more information on other ways to donate.

Return to Winter Journey …

The post Enroute Romania-bound appeared first on International Teams.

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#hopeofjesus #internationalteamsaustralia #christianmission #roma #romania

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wildlyhardphilosopher-blog · 5 years

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fifthhorsewoman-blog · 7 years

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Bra and Panties to Ms. Money in the Bank.

Anyone who knows me knows how much all of the women of WWE and women’s wrestling in general, mean to me. Ever since I was five years old, I have had an emotional connection to them as I’ve grown and they all inspire me in such ways that I have a hard time explaining. The sole reason I was drawn to wrestling at a young age was all due to a lovely lady by the name of Trish Stratus. I specifically remember Trish’s debut on Sunday Night Heat in 2000. It wasn’t until she began valeting for Test & Albert, that I had decided that she was my favorite. I admired her style and her beauty, and although it wasn’t until Fully Loaded 2000 that she had her first match, I always wondered why she was barely on television. Granted, her first match wasn’t her best but something in my six year old self told me to keep watching and keep believing in her and maybe, just maybe, I’d be seeing more of her.

I grew up with Trish from her debut in 2000 to her retirement in 2006 and her Hall of Fame induction in 2013. Although Trish was my favorite and most of what I remember from watching wrestling as a kid was her feud with Lita, it wasn’t long after that I began to love and respect every woman on WWE programming.

As a female wrestling fan, I had no interest in the lingerie pillow fights, or the bikini contests, but instead, all I wanted was to see my favorite wrestlers fight, and that included the women. I remember Wrestlemania 19; Trish Stratus vs Victoria vs Jazz for the WWF Women’s championship. At the time, Trish had been feuding with Victoria who was always escorted to the ring by Steven Richards. During that specific match, Steven Richards got involved which resorted in Trish delivering Stratusfaction to him. That instantly became my favorite part of the match simply because she was standing up for herself against the man.

It’s one of the things I miss most nowadays, especially apart of the Women’s Evolution. I miss the days of intergender tag team matches and Lita delivering a hurricanrana to any man in sight. Granted I couldn’t tell you every last detail of every match because I was so young but going back and watching some of my favorite moments as an adult, the crowd loved and cared about what Trish and Lita were doing and it still brings tears to my eyes til this day. Those were my heroes growing up and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Although Trish and Lita made their mark and have always been given credit where credit is due, it wasn’t until not shortly after where things began to change in a negative way.

The year was 2006 and things like the Diva Search, Extreme Exposè, and Vince’s Devils existed. Remember Candice Michelle’s GoDaddy dance? Despite how over sexualized and pointless most women’s segments became, I still kept true to all of them whether or not they were the next Trish or Lita of the future. This was a strange time to be a women’s wrestling fan because I didn’t quite understand any of it. It was as if what Mae Young, the Fabulous Moolah, Alundra Blaze, Chyna, Sable, Trish and Lita had worked for didn’t matter anymore.

Women such as Michelle McCool, Natalya, Melina, Mickie James, Victoria, and WWE Hall of Famer Beth Phoenix were giving everything they had all for a four minute segment on the show. Then, WWE decides to retire the Women’s Championship in 2010 and keep the Divas championship instead, just to make matters worse.

Things started to become a little more hopeful for me as a fan with the addition of AJ Lee. Say what you will, but AJ made fans begin to care about women’s wrestling again. She was just your average crazy chick who loved wrestling and well, stealing your man. All jokes aside, AJ was a great performer and her character made fans love to hate her. I was personally a fan due to her passion for wrestling growing up because it was very relatable. Her own version of a pipebomb that she dropped in 2013 added to her already impressive repertoire. Her match against Kaitlyn at Payback 2013 to win her first Divas championship reign is one of my favorites and the fact that she got the date tattooed on the back of her neck made me give her even more respect. Despite the credit WWE doesn’t like to give her, I believe that she was the integral start to the “Divas Revolution.”

2013 was also the time of NXT and it’s journey to ongoing success. Women were more notably being acknowledged and given chances unlike those on the main roster. Paige vs Emma at NXT Arrival in February 2014 was what drew me to see what exactly NXT was bringing to the table. Despite not knowing a thing about either woman, those two made me love women’s wrestling even more and I was happy to see Paige win the inaugural NXT Women’s Championship. This also caused me to root for her in excitement when making her debut on RAW the night after Wrestlemania 30 to go on and beat AJ Lee for the WWE Divas championship.

And then there was the Four Horsewomen of NXT. Charlotte, Becky, Bayley, and Sasha. The first time I saw Charlotte in a match was at 2014’s NXT Takeover match against Natalya for Paige’s relinquished NXT Women’s championship. This match had me emotional from start to finish simply due to the passion and storytelling behind it. I had already loved Natalya from watching her on the main roster but I could sense that there was something special about Charlotte, far beyond just being Ric Flair’s daughter. I never kept up with NXT very often, as ashamed as I am to admit that, but I always tuned in to see what the women were up to. In February 2015, I decided to catch Sasha vs Becky vs Bayley vs Charlotte in a Fatal Four Way at NXT Takeover Rival and that was the day everything changed. I had fallen harder than ever before. I tend to cry through most women’s matches but when you can physically feel a rumble, you know things are about to change. In July 2015, Stephanie McMahon came out on WWE Monday Night RAW announcing that “there is a revolution happening within women in sports right now,” this leading into the debut of Sasha Banks, Charlotte, and Becky Lynch to Monday Night RAW. That same year, my sister, my friend Heather, and I had been in Brooklyn solely for the Summerslam meet and greets that weekend and last minute decided to buy resale tickets to NXT Takeover: Brooklyn. And with Brooklyn comes Sasha Banks vs Bayley for the NXT Women’s championship match. A match that I was so honored to be in attendance for. A match that was quickly labeled “Match of the Year” in 2015. Two women did that in a male dominated business and by the end of the bout, my heart was so full of pride. Charlotte and Becky joined Bayley and Sasha in the ring for a group hug and to stand and hold up those four fingers. I remember mumbling to my sister over choked up tears, “I love them so much.” Those four women are the reason I fell in love with wrestling all over again and reminded me why I stayed hopeful through the hard times. 2016 brought the comeback of the WWE Women’s Championship, two women’s matches at Wrestlemania 32, a women’s Hell in a Cell match that main evented the PPV for the first time ever, and Sasha Banks and Charlotte main eventing RAW, something only ever done once before by Trish Stratus and Lita. And this year, the first ever Ms. Money in the Bank was crowned in Carmella. The women of the WWE are my constant source of inspiration and have been since I was a young girl. It has always been important to me to see them given equal opportunity as the men and it is truly only up from here. They are pioneers paving the way for better days within pro wrestling and it has been a bumpy road but an amazing journey nonetheless.

#post

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adriennefrank · 7 years

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The Artist

I'm embarrassed at how few times I have visited the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, the best art museum in the city. I always get caught up in the history of the ancient pieces, the colors of the impressionist paintings, and the humor in the pop art. My favorite gallery contains the photographs. I'm amazed at the crispness, the lines, the perspective, and the easy interpretation. I get confused at some of the art. How are shades of pink and coral and steel gray all woven together to be considered a beautiful work? And yet, each piece was chosen, specially curated to be in the museum. I don't understand it.

One week ago, a series of events led me to find myself in a parking lot with four teenage boys. I was at Cedar's school for his poem recital and had just parked the car. It was finally spring in Minneapolis. The beautiful sun was shining down, warming my bare arms and neck. I felt this pure happiness at pushing my sunglasses on. We pay our dues here in Minnesota, so when we get sunshine, we bask in all its glory. It was only sixty-something degrees, but I'm surprised I didn't see shorts and tank tops walking the streets of the city. I watched the boys out of the corner of my eye, from the behind the safety of my sunglasses. I watched one turn and look at my jaw and neck and turn to his friend.

"She's fucking ugly!" he pronounced and laughed.

I felt as though he had slapped my face with stinging force. Those sharp, painful words cut deep into my tender flesh, hitting a nerve of insecurity running through. I was livid. Furious. I wanted to inflict him in the same way he had hurt me.

"Excuse me?" I responded, the anger bubbling up into my words.

They all took off running, and I lost sight of them, more concerned with finding my son on playground than serving justice. I couldn't spot Cedar on the playground, so I walked along the city sidewalk towards the front of the school building. I entered the lobby and was surprised to see the boy from the parking lot. The one who thought I was so ugly, I deserved to be the butt of a joke. The one who couldn't hide his feelings of uncertainty about my neck. The one who wanted to be liked, so he decided to impress his friends with mockery. That one.

I asked him if he had just been in the parking lot, but he denied it, guilt covering every inch of his face. His classmate gave him away, telling me he had just run in. She was also quick to answer my questions of his name and the name and whereabouts of his teacher.

I marched into the cafeteria to find the aforementioned authority figure. Mrs. Ericson was nowhere to be found, but Mr. Tyler stood in the doorway. The gym teacher. He introduced himself at orientation in August and shared that he had prayed for me and Cedar for years. How quickly we went from strangers to Christian brother and sister. What a relief to find this kind man in my moment of hurt and anger. A man who knows my story, knows my son, knows the students of Minneapolis Academy.

Mr. Tyler offered assistance, and I asked if he would follow me to the lobby. We passed through a sea of students to reach the young man. He still stood in the lobby area, as if his shoes were stuck to the muted carpet below him. If it were me, I would have run. Maybe the fear and guilt weighted his legs down, keeping him from moving.

I pointed him out to Mr. Tyler.

"Daniel, what happened?" his deep voice boomed.

"Nothing! I didn't say anything to her!" the boy responded emphatically.

I'm no lawyer, but I am a mother, and aren't the two the same? I can spot guilt in a child's face, remorse in two brown eyes, and discern unconvincing lies. No one had mentioned words shared in the parking lot. I hadn't described the horrifying incident yet, but still, Daniel knew it was his words that would render him guilty.

"Daniel, I'll deal with you later," Mr. Tyler responded and sent the boy off down the hall. He led me towards the side of the hallway, towards the windows, and into the light streaming in from outside.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.

I told him the story. How I had come to rejoice in my son's hard work. How I was here to see my boy, my shy boy who had blossomed into a more confident boy, get on a stage and recite a poem he had memorized. How I arrived with such pride in my heart. And how the ugly words of this young man had cast a shadow over the afternoon. Now I was angry. And so hurt.

Mr. Tyler listened with compassion. He listened as a man who has been married for years. He listened as a father. He listened as a teacher. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. I can assure you that I will speak with Mrs. Ericson about it. And I want you to know that you are beautiful."

What kind words to soothe my aching heart. No one had ever called me ugly before, but people stare every day. Mostly children, but adults too. Its a unique pain. I'm sure anyone else would have walked away, rolling their eyes at stupid middle school boys being assholes. But it cut me. I know what I look like. I know how I looked the day that I woke up from my surgery in January of 2015 without a jawbone. I remember how every doctor told me I had two options: remove my jawbone or die. Was it even an option? I begged them to take my mandible. I had a four year-old son who needed his mama for as long as God might allow. Take my jawbone, take my leg, take anything if it would buy me another day. I would sacrifice it all for my boy.

I left Mr. Tyler in the hallway and continued on to see my son's performance. What a gift to be there. To be full of pride for my child and his hard word. I'm not sure much else could have numbed the pain in the way that he did.

Bekah came to the program, and I shared the story with her. As a previous teacher at Minneapolis Academy, these types of stories were not foreign to her. She had held her own share of court cases during her tenure.

"What do you think will happen?" I asked her.

"I'm sure the teacher will be told about it. I don't know after that." she responded.

I felt justice knowing that it wouldn't just be dropped. I had faith in Mr. Tyler, but I felt even more confidence when Bekah promised that the teacher would be notified. I wasn't sure if the teacher would do anything, but it felt like the justice I wanted and needed.

Three days later, on Monday afternoon, I was lying on my couch when I received a phone call. The number was identified as a called from Cedar's school. Oh gosh. He's sick again. It seems that this early spring has carried nothing but germs and bacteria into our struggling bodies. We just couldn't seem to get on the right side of things.

"Hello, Miss Frank," the caller began. "My name is Brian, and I am the high school principal at Minneapolis Academy."

I immediately grew nervous. Maybe it was because he was the principal? I certainly never went to the principal's office in my twelve years of schooling. I would have melted into a puddle of fear and tears on the floor. My experience with principals is extremely limited, and I hope to continue through Cedar's education.

"Could you tell me about what happened on Friday?" he requested. I explained the situation again, making sure not to leave out any detail. Part of me was concerned, had I identified the right person? I was 99.9% sure. And I was 100% sure about the words I heard come out of his mouth.

"Thank you, Miss Frank," he ended the call. "I will follow up once I meet with the student."

I breathed a deep sigh. I was grateful that I had told my story truthfully. I was thankful that I hadn't exploded upon hearing the child's words. Lord knows I would have probably been called to the principal's office too. Now it was in the administrations hands for justice.

I felt better. The words still stung, but I was happy that they were seeking out the truth. And I am horrified to admit it, but I felt glad that the student was being confronted with his words. I didn't want him to get in trouble, I just wanted his ugly words exposed. Out in the open for the teachers and principal to hear. I wanted them to see how awful he behaved towards a disabled mother.

My cell phone rang later that day, Monday evening. Brian had pulled Daniel into his office to discuss the situation. The eighth grader admitted to being in the parking lot and then running inside, but denied speaking any words to me, much less the words that I was accusing.

"I'm going to meet with Daniel and his father tomorrow. I'm guessing you will probably not be interested, but I wonder if you might come in and share your story with them. Feel free to think about it and let me know later. I expect it would be pretty powerful for Daniel to hear your story, and it may help him."

My heart pounded as it usually does when I need to step out of my comfortable routine.

"Yes, I will do it. I don't need to think about it." I immediately responded.

"Great! Thank you. Could you come by at 10AM tomorrow?" he asked.

"Of course."

And so I found myself walking into a conference room that Tuesday morning, a little after 10AM. I shared my story with Daniel and his father, explaining why those words were so painful. I explained how I was happy to sacrifice my jaw in order to continue being a mother. And then I shared that Bekah aka Miss Johnson was one of my closest friends. Over the years, she has asked for (what seems like!) most of the school to pray for me and Cedar. I told Daniel that he may have even prayed for me before he knew me.

It was powerful. For all of us.

Daniel and his father both apologized. The principal suggested that this might be one of those lessons that Daneil remembers his whole life. I hope it is. If we could all be a bit more empathetic, how beautiful might this world be? It felt like good closure. The whole bruised and battered package had been tied up with a ribbon. It was over.

Until I saw my therapist that afternoon.

I always enter his office, unsure about what might bubble up out of my mind and soul. Often times unsure about why I am truly frustrated or hurting. I knew that Daniel had made me feel ugly and that hurt, but I felt like there had been justice. I had told him I forgave him, hadn't I?

"How are you?" my therapist began.

"Well, I spent the morning in the principal's office!" I responded, half jokingly.

And then the tears welled up in my eyes. Until my eyes couldn't contain them any longer and they fell down my cheeks. I grabbed kleenex after kleenex and still couldn't catch them all. I had so many tissues balled up in my hands that I couldn't fit another one in. My whole body ached.

I grieved for myself and the face I once had. I grieved over my new appearance. But mostly I grieved for Cedar. What will happen one day when kids begin to tease him rather than make nasty comments to me? Why does it feel like I keep pouring out pain, heavy and horrible, on his little shoulders?

"I'm hate that I have paved this awful path for him," I sobbed. "It isn't fair! Why does his life need to be so hard?"

"Well," my therapist responded. "If anyone is the perfect example of how to persevere through the hardships of life, it is you."

The most encouraging words I could have hoped for. Even so, I cried for the entire hour and left with an excruciating headache.

I texted my sister about it, wondering if I would ever finish grieving the after effects of cancer in my life.

"Probably not," she responded.

Somehow that feels hopeful. It allows me freedom in my heartache and not failed expectations. I can continue to heal from the horrors I have faced at my own pace. Even if the scars, physical and emotional, will always be there.

I thought of this hurt as I walked the halls of the art museum. Such beauty, both understood and misunderstood.

Would an observer ever tell an artist that his creation, his heart and soul fleshed out into a painting or sculpture or photograph, was "fucking ugly"? Would the artist feel sorrow over the pronouncement? Would he grieve over the critique? And how can you call something put together with such care, "ugly"? How did God feel, as my creator, the one who knit me together both in 1982 and 2015, when those words were said about his piece of art? There is a sweetness in thinking that He grieved with me.

I intend to make another trip back to the art museum soon. I will walk the halls slowly, taking time to view each creation. I wonder if it may take me weeks to get through the three floors. I want to look at each sculpture and wonder at the perfect shape the artist formed. I will search out the tiniest differences of shade and strokes in the paintings, rejoicing at the painter's precision. And I will breathe a prayer of gratefulness for this beauty.

#beauty #creation #art #artist #cancer

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rivkahstudies · 7 years

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General IB Tips (Part 1, because I have a lot to say on this topic)

Whether you’re just entering the IB program or, like me, you’re almost done with your first year, here are some tips that I have picked up from my experiences as an overwrought but successful student!

For those of you that are unaware, International Baccalaureate is an international standard for education that is employed at schools around the world. It is an extremely rigorous program. More below the cut!

My experience as an IB student:

I am finishing my Junior (Grade 11) year in a Florida, US school on May 24. This is important because my school puts the most work on the Juniors so Seniors can focus on applying for colleges and scholarships and taking exams. They still have a lot of work though.

I am not taking any IB exams this year, all of my classes will be tested for in my senior year.

I am a full IB student, which means all 7 of my hour-long classes are IB.

I have 6 extracurricular activities but I will not get a paying job until next year.

I have generalized anxiety disorder, depression, and insomnia/chronic nightmares that impact my ability to work.

general - the conditions

PLEASE banish the advice that “You’ll be perfectly fine if you don’t procrastinate! IB is so easy if you’re a hard worker!” There are so many other factors, a lot of which I will cover, that will impact your ability to work, and even though IB is standardized across the boards, each school does things slightly differently. There are going to be difficult days. You’re going to have breakdowns and want to quit, and hate yourself and IB. There will be really bad days, or really bad weeks. I have done very little procrastinating and have worked really hard, and I’ve still had difficulty dealing with the workload.

IB does take a lot of discipline and routine. You will have to sacrifice. I chose to sacrifice sleep and my social life, but I’m working harder to take care of myself now that the worst days are clearing out.

IB is not just for the intelligent kids. It’s for the kids willing to be chewed up and spit out. This takes a lot of character beyond book smarts, and if you decide to do the IB Certificate Program (some IB classes) instead of IB Diploma (full IB), or just full on drop out, that is okay. It is always okay. Not everyone is made for a program that expects an inhuman amount of effort and work. If you have complicating circumstances or even just issues with your personal condition with taking IB, there’s no shame in quitting or dropping classes. There are other options past IB if you want to succeed in life. IB is a choice.

Don’t go through this alone. My rule of thumb is to always have 2 kids my age and 1 adult I can rely on to rant to, get advice from, or just cry on the shoulder of when I’m having my hard times. This preserves your mental health and helps people help you if you get to a really bad point.

And despite all the negativity (read: honesty) in these points above... Be excited! Keep an open mind. IB fosters creative and critical thinking, and opens you up to an international mindset useful in all aspects of life. It doesn’t teach all the life skills I would like, but that’s what your mentors and peers are for. If there’s something you want, go for it, and always attempt to find a good side to every adversity. I keep a lil jar called the Good Things Jar where I put in slips of paper of good things that happen to me. I have been neglecting it due to busy schedules lately, but even on bad days I try to put one good thing in. It’s seriously helped my outlook this year.

general - completing assignments

Remember: Extra Credit is your best friend, but your priority is to get the assigned work done. EC is for when something falls through or no amount of studying will get you passing that Thermodynamics test. If your teacher doesn’t give a lot of EC and offers some, jump on it! You won’t regret it.

Always prioritize based on size of the project and the deadline. If it’s a longer deadline but a bigger project, start as soon as possible. No matter what the size, always work on the things due the soonest first in case you can’t get to all of your to do list.

Talk to your teachers. Especially when things come up. Whether it’s extracurriculars, family issues, personal issues, emergencies, etc, if something keeps you from completing an assignment or you aren’t grasping the materials, talk to your teachers. It is very important to have a close relationship with even your disliked IB teachers because you need to be able to get cut breaks. IB teachers know the issues of IB, they’re usually understanding. Chances are, as long as you’re a good and honest student, they’ll take late work or bargain with you, and help you make up work unless they already have a procedure or bulletin for you to reference on your own time.

Don’t always chunk your workload by assignment. I will break up even simpler tasks into certain milestones so that I can cope. I want to rewrite all my math notes? I want chapter 5 done by Monday. I never write my schedule so strictly that I have specific times for each assignment. I see some people say 1:00: Read, 2:00 Eat, 3:00 Take Notes. Even the most organized students can’t conform to that rigid a schedule. Instead, schedule periods for general aspects - the morning is for studying, the afternoon for writing, the evening for relaxing, etc. And make sure you program in breaks, because it’s not healthy to sit for too long, write for too long, etc without proper self-care!

notetaking

Good notetaking skills are very valuable! I don’t have time to make my notes super embellished like a lot of studyblrs, but I still seriously value clean notes and I will retake notes multiple times if necessary. Not only does it help when you need to reference them again for test or exam time, but it helps you cement the knowledge in your mind more.

My notetaking strategy: four pen/marker colors. 1 for titles, 1 for subtitles, 1 for important details (names, dates, key points, etc) and 1 (typically black) for supporting information/regular text. I like to change up the colors so I can remember separate note sets in the same subject/notebook, so you’ll see one of the many taxes that provoked the American revolution in greens and blues, the next in reds, and the next pinks and purples. Diagrams get their own sets of colors depending on complexity and keys.

The reason I like this notetaking strategy is it still allows me neat, color-coded notes without getting overly fancy. I draw only what I absolutely need to, and sometimes I’ll doodle if I need to relax and my hands are itching to draw. But generally I find that aesthetic notetaking just spends time I can use to relax or complete other work, so I refrain! Practicality over aesthetics in IB.

working past mental illness

A lot of us have it. I have firsthand experience, and it’s not fun. Just Wednesday night, I ended off all of my homework at 12 AM and had a mental breakdown until 2 AM. There will be really bad days, and you just can’t avoid them. IB has some flexibility for students, but it still doesn’t have much wriggle room for chronic mental illness.

Be aware of yourself. I know I get sensory overload, I know I have anxiety attacks and that my average resting heartbeat has been 100-120 lately wITHOUT COFFEE and I need to take care of that. I know I have insomnia and nightmares and it’s hard to get to sleep. Use that knowledge to your advantage to prevent procrastination, situations that are triggering or overwhelming, and people that aren’t good for you.

Don’t overdo the extracurriculars. They’re good for the resume and they’re fun, but trust me, it’s not a good idea. I have 6, and at the peak of their work I was so overworked I didn’t sleep for an entire week. I had 8 before I started full IB, and I dropped 2 and still had issues. My advice is 2-3, and devote all your energy to it within reason. As it is, I don’t believe you should join anything you can’t give at least 65% to. Sure you might not be able to attend every meeting or take on extra responsibilities, but you should be attentive and dedicated to it. I love all my extracurriculars dearly and I cope with the stress because it’s rewarding, and by this time of the year most of them have finished for the year anyway.

Don’t bottle it up. As stated earlier, you should have 2 kids your age and 1 adult you can rely on to talk to about one subject at any time. They can be anyone you trust, but people should know what your state is so they can help if things go wrong. I like the magic number of 3 people because it allows you to express yourself multiple times without putting too much energy into one person. They are people with lives too, but you are not a burden and you deserve to be heard and validated. I like to rotate my 3. One time it’ll be my boyfriend (who’s usually in every group anyway because he likes to know that I’m okay and I like to know he is) and my best gal pal and my TOK teacher, next time it’ll be my mom, my classmate in English and my other gal pals. Don’t be afraid to reach out.

If you can’t reach out, be honest with yourself. Talk about what’s bothering you to yourself. Say “I feel mad” or “I have a headache” or “I’m panicking.” Identify the sources and try to ground yourself. There are multiple grounding and breathing techniques I use and I’d be happy to go into more detail if y’all ask about it. If grounding doesn’t work, try other coping methods such as mapping out possible solutions or taking time to self-care and medicate. If you know yourself, you’re a step closer to overcoming whatever mental boundaries you have or, at least, being more comfortable. If I start crying for “no reason” I think about what’s been stressing me out and run through recent events. It helps me rationalize and stop my anxiety from ruling me and blowing things out of proportion. I also view my intrusive thoughts like “you’re nothing, you’re worthless” as a backseat driver. “No, Karen, I’m not, I’m the driver, hush.” It seems foolish, but it really helps me because it’s both humorous and also me being rational.

Anyway! This turned out waaaay longer than I intended it but this is just the tip of the iceberg, so if you guys wants a TL;DR version I will post it tomorrow or Saturday by request and if you want more tips just message me or ask me!! I love getting asked specific questions because it’s easier for me to answer any specific concerns or curiosities you have! If you’d like, my next post can be about suggestions on how to tackle specific aspects of IB like the EE or the CAS project!

Tagging people that specifically wanted this post:

@hunny-studies , @unfortunatelackofaliens

#rivkah talks #rivkahstudies #ib #international baccalaureate #tw mental illness #anxiety #depression #tw panic attacks #just pm if you need me to add any more tws #studyblr #studying #advice #high school

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onceandfutureflyfisherman · 7 years

Text

First 2 Days in TZ

I could tell you about the long flights, the layover in Amsterdam, the delay getting through immigration upon arrival, and the slow drive in darkness to our first hotel in Moshi, but really that was all just typical international travel - i.e, kind of a pain, but necessary to get to a destination. In the long run, forgettable. Midnight dinner was kind of a blur. A few hours sleep, then a new reality. On Monday, I was awakened first by a song-like chanted prayer at about 5 AM and, after another short nap until about 6, by unfamiliar bird cries as dawn crept past my curtains. Upon awakening the second time, I convinced myself that the prayer chant I'd heard earlier was just a vivid jet-lag-induced dream; it had sounded to me like the voice of my friend Dr. Jeff Carithers, who was staying in the room below me, and I found it hard to imagine that Jeff had sung in a foreign tongue at 5 AM. At breakfast I mentioned it to someone who informed me that the song was in fact a chant emanating from a nearby mosque. I was relieved that I hadn't simply hallucinated it, and this revelation reminded me that I was soon to have many previously-unimagined experiences. When I left my room, I noticed a sign that read "Kilimanjaro View" with an arrow pointing down a corridor. I decided to detour down the corridor, not really expecting to be rewarded because I had heard from several people that Mt. Kilimanjaro is generally not visible through cloud cover. To my great surprise, substantial parts of the mountain revealed themselves, and we were much closer to it than I expected. From the hotel balcony, which did in fact offer a fine Kilimanjaro view just as advertised by the sign, the mountain loomed over me with such volcanic mass that I felt vaguely threatened by it. At breakfast I began to become acquainted with several members of our party of ten who had assembled at the hotel, having arrived from various points in Iowa, Virginia, Queensland (Australia) and, in my case, Pennsylvania. There wasn't much time to establish rapport - Jeff had invited me to accompany him to a meeting in Arusha, which he said was "not far" from our hotel. ("Not far" is a phrase used often here, I've learned, and it doesn't exactly mean the same thing as it does in America.) After a two-hour drive in a tightly packed SUV, we arrived at the Tanzania HQ for World Vision, a U.S.-based Christian organization that funds and sponsors substantial charitable activity in Tanzania and many other countries. In the Empower Tanzania ("ET") contingent, besides Jeff and me, were Phil Latessa, the U.S.-based Executive Director, Eli Kisimbo, the Tanzanian developmental director, and Efra Nzota, the manager of the women’s health program. I won't bore you with the details of the meeting; a lot of it was the same rigamarole that characterizes all business meetings. The interesting part of it to me was when Jeff revealed that he had completed ten lengthy educational videos, in Swahili and English, that fully covered a lengthy set of health care topics which World Vision deemed to be important to a network of Tanzanian Community Health Workers (CHWs) it wished to help train. When Jeff began to sense the appreciation and interest of the World Vision representatives, he pulled out a laptop and showed them a brief sample of a video to illustrated the quality of its content and production, and eyes lit up all around the room. ET's partnership with World Vision had gotten off to a halting start in the preceding months, and the meeting had been arranged to get it back on track. ET had completely fulfilled its end of the initial bargain by making these videos, and that made a strong positive impression on World Vision's representatives. The meeting ended well - there was hope on both sides that an agreement for the dissemination of the videos and a plan for ET's role in the process could be worked out. After lunch and a short visit to the wonderful African cultural center and museum in Arusha, we commenced the five-hour drive to our next hotel. As we jolted along the highway in 90+ degree temperatures past our first hotel in Moshi and ultimately to our primary destination - a town of 30,000 or so named Same (SAH-may) - I corralled my discomfort by reminding myself that the detour to Arusha was perceived by the ET representatives as worthwhile and productive. A good beginning, and a good opportunity to witness life along the main road through northeast Tanzania, which is very colorful in ways I hope to describe more in future posts. Those of you who know me probably know little or nothing about ET, in part because I've rarely discussed it, and am only just beginning to understand it myself. Although I'd like to focus a lot of this blog on my impressions of Tanzania and Tanzanians in general, I would be remiss not to highlight what ET is all about and why I came here in the first place. The spark for this trip came entirely from the flame that exudes from my long-time, close friend Jeff whenever he speaks to me about ET, which is often. Over the past eight years or so, Jeff has been coming to Tanzania two or three times a year, usually for periods of two to four weeks at a time. His passion and commitment for it have grown over the years. Because of his enthusiastic and infectious personality, it's impossible not to be intrigued by his stories of Tanzania and its people. So when he invited me to accompany him, how could I not accept? For an overview and some details about what Empower Tanzania does, I refer you to its website - empowertz.org. I'll just give you the overview of the overview. As its name implies, the mission of the organization is to promote self-sufficiency for Tanzanians - i.e., to empower them. The unmet needs of the people, especially in the rural areas such the Same district inhabited by tribes such as the Pare and the Maasai, are legion. Among the many important elements of life that we tend to take for granted in America and other developed nations are access to clean water and a basic understanding of disease prevention, health care, agriculture and economics. These elements are sorely lacking in much of Tanzania. Development in these and many other areas is sorely needed. ET is a small organization with very limited funds; making a big difference in Tanzania by simply giving away money, goods and services is not a viable strategy and would not likely yield sustainable results. ET's goal, therefore, is to enable Tanzanians to help themselves, which it has done by sponsoring a variety of development projects and, perhaps most significantly, by educating Tanzanians, especially women, who in turn educate and serve other Tanzanians. With such an approach, volunteers can leverage their efforts many times over, even with modest funding. What I described may seem abstract, so let me give an example. Within a typical rural village in the Same district, problems such as child mortality and infectious diseases are very common. ET has identified representatives from these villages who serve locally as Community Health Workers (CHWs, who provide basic, hands-on health services because trained doctors and nurses are few and far between), and Community Health Educators (CHEs), who help to educate people in their communities about basic principles of health care, for example. Dr. Jeff Carithers and other volunteers and local staff provide the training and certain simple tools (and a few not-so-simple tools, such as lithium-battery-operated projectors) to enable the CHWs and CHEs to pass on the knowledge to their villages. So for example, participants learn about how to prevent transmission of germs and viruses, and they give presentations on such topics to members of their villages. In a relatively few years and with barely more than a handful of volunteers from the developed world, ET has already made an enormous difference. I'll just give you one statistic. ET monitors its own effectiveness and has determined that, to date, about 700,000 people have attended presentations by ET-trained program participants. That's a lot of people, and we are talking about education that makes a direct and very important difference in their quality of life. I'm sorry if this is all a bit dry, but I needed to give you some context for what I expect to write about in future posts in this blog. I'll leave you with just one little story. Today I met most of the CDEs during a training session in a conference center in Same town. One of them was a warm and bright-eyed woman named Monica. A couple of years ago, Monica was traveling on a remote highway from her village to Same for CDE training. This isn't terribly common, fortunately, but the vehicle Monica was riding in was set upon by robbers, who beat the car's occupants, inluding Monica, senseless. She was severely concussed and had major wounds, but when Monica regained consciousness, her first question was whether her projector and its batteries had been stolen. Although her injuries were severe, Monica recovered and within a few weeks of the attack, she was doing presentations again. She understands her responsibility to her community in a profound way. She and her colleagues in the ET programs have witnessed a lot of progress in their communities - disease is waning, more children are living to be adults, childbirth mortality is down. Monica and people like her are making an enormous difference in the lives of thousands of Tanzanians. Progress is being made. Thanks to Dr. Jeff, Phil, Eli, Efra and all the other ET volunteers who have welcomed me to Africa. I look forward to telling you more about what I'm seeing, hearing, tasting, touching and smelling. Tanzania engages all the senses, and Tanzanians are warm and wonderful people. There's far too much to write about, but I'll try to convey some highlights.

#Tanzania #TZ #women's health

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