#I only remember relearning it so

[venerablehoney]

What are you using to learn German? Or do you have anything you recommend using?

I dug out my old german workbooks and I'm watching some german tv shows! My recommendation for learning a new language is find people who already fluent to talk with and do things you already enjoy (reading, listening to music/podcasts, shows) in that language

[junespriince]

Little Chickadee meet little Sparkle au

8yo Dick, picks up 3yo Wally: so this baby kid flash?

Barry: yeah, this is apparently him at three years old according to Iris.

Dick, looks at the tiny boy in his arms: and his dad hated him!? Adults are useless.

Bruce, sighed: can't wait for Constantine and zatanna to fix this... Alfred where's the leash? *Leaves*

Dick, gives Barry, Wally back: I will make sure nobody hurts him again.

Barry: aw, that's so sweet of you.

A few hours later

Bruce: I told you to watch him, how could you let him get away!?

Barry: he said he went to the bathroom, how was i supposed to know he would leave, the time I knew him he listened in Central!

Wally, fussy because people are yelling:

Bruce: where could he have gone to, all his usual hits are protected.

Barry: ... Oh my god, OH MY GOD HE'S AFTER RUDY!

Bruce: Rudy?

Barry, grabbing his things: Wally's shitty bio dad, he read Canary's file on Wally and asked me questions.

Bruce: AND YOU GAVE THEM TO HIM, FREELY!?

Barry: I'm sorry I forgot he was blood thirsty as a child, okay!

Jason, holding a now crying Wally: hush it dipshits, and he's like eight how far on foot could he have gone.

Tim: he knows about the zeta tubes.

Jason: oooo, yeah that mother fucker dead dead.

Cass: I also saw him grabbed Barry's phone and called up Iris.

Barry: SHIT MY WIFE GONNA GO TO PRISON! I GOTTA GO!

[zprite-x]

Yeah sure ill post this stupid lineart test doodle

[randaccidents]

Lost Memory-Dream #00

One of many half-remembered dreams of memories that Heart has. This one might be his oldest memory ever.

(Hi! First Tangled Wisteria fic :3. Doing a small set of random memories half remembered in dreams. And a little hint to how Heart might see the world now, freshly amnesiatic.)

(ALSO this fic is unfortunately not reader tool friendly, because I'm trying to give the feeling of words being roughly scratched out of memory. I AM going to include a translated transcript in a reblog though, so look out for that if you're wondering what they are saying!)

(also I went crazy in my tags whoops)

-------------------------------------

He is standing in a space of white and grey and black. Standing in the white and in the grey are two cut-out figures, the same color as the space they stood in, yet clearly separate from the background. He himself stood in the black.

["W██ ███ █ou ███?"] He furrowed his eyebrows. The voice is blotted out and fuzzed, he couldn't clearly make out what it was saying. He tried to open his mouth, but found that he couldn't. Hm. Something told him that it was simply not his turn to speak yet.

{"███ am I? I ███ld ███ y██ ███ █ame."} This voice was the same, static-filled and words missing his ears entirely. He knew it was not meant to be that way, but he didn't know what should fill the gap. He felt the figures turn towards him, and his mouth opened on instinct.

("Don't look at me? I don't know who either of you are!") He is confused. He could tell he is dreaming, but where is this? What is this? At least this dream-him has the same thoughts that he does.

{"I ██ow ███ I ██. I'm ██e ████."} The cut out of grey had moved, a hand on its presumed chin. He tilted his head, examining the cut-out and finding nothing he could use to identify it. Who was that?

["██gi███ly, ██ ██ ████ to ██████ es█████sh██ na████ con███ti██, ██ ██████ ████ ro███ ███ na███."] There's a deepness to the few letters that ungarble themselves from the white cut-outs words. It almost sounds.... familiar?

Familiar. Nothing about this dream has felt familiar, yet he knows it is a memory. Why is his memory made of static and cut-out figures? He can't find it in himself to worry too much about it, the roots of panic strangled at the source. There is a sweet scent in the air.

His mouth moves again. ("Roles as names you say? Well wouldn't that make you the ████, since you're so logical?") It was disconcerting, hearing his own voice briefly turn to static. There was something important there. What was it?

Words were being spoken at him. The sweet scent from earlier was building. He strained to listen. ["██ ██at ██? ████ you ████ ██ █he-"]

-

-

-

He shot up in bed, mouth forming around a name quickly lost to pruned branches and faded flowers. Furrowing eyebrows under the blindfold that had been given to him, he tests out the shape of his mouth.

The letter H. He tests the letter on his tongue, finding it familiar. Still mouthing the letter, he brings hands up to brush through tangled wisteria vines and feathers alike, calming himself on the sweet scent of the flowers.

That was a memory of his name. He is certain of it. But what name starts with the letter H? And what he said in the dream, roles as names. None of it made sense to him. The bright cut-outs in his memory gave no hints either, pruned and cut out and distorted out of meaning.

What was his name? He squinted eyes he had learnt were sensitive to light down at his hands. Purple had named himself. And now a forgotten memory told him he was named by someone he could not remember.

["Purple? Are you awake? It's late morning already."] Jumping at the deep voice, Purple looked up, tossing a grin at the shadow in his doorway.

("I'm alright Blue, just thinking. Remembering? Dreaming. I'll be out in a second!") He stretches, standing up and missing Blue's reaction to his words. ("I had the weirdest dream last night.")

["Is that so. Care to share?"] Blue has a weird way of being curious. Purple is still getting used to it. He shrugs it off anyways, both Red and Blue were still just strangers with some familiar habits anyways. It's probably normal to be awkward.

("I dreamt that...") The words trail off into burnt ashes that fall from his mouth. His face scrunches up as he tries to remember the memory. Only one thing stands out to him, caught between his teeth. ("...I forgot. All I remember is the letter H.")

A cold, metallic hand gently rests itself on his shoulder, urging him forwards. ["Maybe it will return to you later. Come, breakfast is waiting."]

Perking up at the thought of breakfast, Purple nodded his head, following Blue's lead, the scent of wisterias trailing behind him as he forgot his dream in favor of breakfast. The letter H remains, lodged in the breath between his tongue and palate.

[outlying-hyppocrate]

i love languages. all of them. they're so pretty in their own ways. languages are all a part of us and i think that's something beautiful. even a word as simple as hello. hello, salut, terve, hola, zdravo, salve, every word is lovelywonderful and i only want to know more

[oflgtfol]

quastion. if you were a high schooler looking to take the least stressful lab science would you taking physics or chemistry

i think this is a simpler question of which do you enjoy more? for me i would choose physics over chemistry any day but that’s because i hate chemistry and so all chem labs i took were boring and stressful, and i love physics so the labs were fun and interesting

however if both subjects are equally uninteresting to you, then i do recommend physics! maybe i'm biased, but i think even personal interest aside, my high school chem labs were definitely more involved and complicated than my high school physics labs. physics experiments in lower level classes such as high school (and even introductory college physics to some extent) are pretty simple to set up and conduct, the main understanding comes from doing the math afterwards to get any sort of result out of it, whereas chem was more like, actually mixing stuff and then observing

not only were physics labs easier, simpler, and more engaging, but each lab also was unique and distinct from each other. i really can only recall the same basic setup of like, mixing stuff together as the idea behind every single chem lab i did. the exact way you mixed them together differed of course but that was the main idea

meanwhile some examples of physics labs i recall from high school include:

projectile motion: most likely you will roll a marble down a ramp off the edge of the lab table, measure the horizontal and vertical distances it traveled, maybe time it also or use a photogate to measure the velocity, or something, and then use the kinematic equations to find any missing variables, and then through all that you will probably be to told to find the value of g, what is known as the acceleration due to gravity, aka the rate at which things fall.

circular motion: you may be using a FLYING PIG to demonstrate circular motion!!! figuring out the tension in the string, the idea of centripetal force, centripetal acceleration, rates of revolution, etc.

harmonic motion: push some slinkies around, demonstrate hooke's law and spring force, calculation of frequency and oscillation, maybe observing resonant frequencies and resonant modes

standing waves: using some sort of low tech version of a standing wave generator to observe, well, standing waves. the high school version of this lab i believe was very surface level and was mostly just drawing how different standing waves looked, counting the nodes and antinodes, and predicting it for different frequencies. i think the teacher even got us a giant rope and we had to recreate the lower frequency standing waves together as a class by just oscillating it ourselves

all around, in my experience at least, high school physics labs are so much more involved and engaging than chem ever was. and while the math involved in the physics class was more daunting than chem, it was such a fun and interactive class. and again i may be biased but i think, if both chem and physics are uninteresting to you but you need to choose one anyway, i think having a basic background in physics is a lot more useful and goes a lot further than a basic background in chem does. i truly believe that knowing stuff about the kinematic equations, circular motion, free body diagrams, harmonic motion, etc etc will enrich your life further and change the way you see the world around you. high school physics will not make you an expert but it can certainly make observing patterns in life and how the natural world operates a lot more fun and exciting

[toshidou]

decided to start learning german again (for... no particular reason...), and to say that the last time i was really practising was mid high school, i'm genuinely shocked at how much information i've retained

[fingertipsmp3]

This place I applied for a job at keeps emailing me (automatic emails not a real human being) asking why I haven’t done the tests they asked me to do and I don’t know how to explain to them it’s because their tests feel like psychological warfare

[foldingfittedsheets]

I think something a lot of other people can relate to is the way that you get so conditioned to discomfort that you stop registering it.

I remember sitting at the table with my family, eating dinner as a child. I’d try to eat, because of course I was hungry. But sometimes the flavor or texture was so repugnant that it moved into a category of Not Food.

“Two more bites before you can leave the table.”

“I can’t,” I’d say, trying to explain the impossibility.

But because I was a child they heard, “I won’t,” and made me sit at the table. I’d sit in dull agonized silence, bored and hungry for hours until bedtime when they’d give up. I’d hate myself for not eating and my parents for forcing me to sit there. The few forcefeeding moments ended in vomit.

They’d say, “If you don’t eat this you can’t eat a snack later,” and I moved past trying to communicate my discomfort into accepting that I’d just be hungry.

That state of affairs didn’t last, because my parents realized nothing could force me to eat so they catered to my palate, worrying they’d starve me. But the message stuck. If you can’t do anything about a situation, just accept the suffering.

A few years later my mother called me off the playground to ask, “Are you limping?”

I shrugged. My feet had hurt for a long time, but that was just the way things were now. My mom pulled my socks and shoes off and gasped. The soles of my feet were covered in huge painful planters warts.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” She demanded but I could only shrug at her. I’d learned a long time ago that saying things about my discomfort didn’t matter, so now I had no words. Sometimes things hurt and sometimes they don’t. I simply accepted and did my best.

Now as an adult trying to learn to improve my own conditions can be hard. If I make food that I can’t eat I’ll force myself to sit at the counter still, full of guilt and self loathing, trying to will myself to eat it.

At first I needed my betrothed to gently take it away to present me with something I could eat. Now on my own I can usually admit that it’s not happening before too long and get something else, but I still feel guilty.

Laying in bed at night waiting for my betrothed to finish getting ready I let out a huge sigh of relief when they turned the lights off.

“Why didn’t you turn them off if they bothered you?” they asked the first time it happened.

“I didn’t even know it was bothering me until it was gone.”

Assessing my physical state now to see if I can improve it is something I’m still relearning but I’m relieved to finally have the space and support to do it.

[omegawolverine]

Oh! Yeah it’s the “Fack” song. Lmao 💕

OKAY yeah i thought it might be but i haven't listened to fack in literal ages so the lyrics r very much missing from my brain at this point + it's not a fave tbh 😭😭

[crtkit]

oh my god

[ncthandrake]

i was trying to figure out when the last time i did a speedrun for re2r was and it's apparently been nearly a year....pretty sure i forget most of how i was doing it....😭

[othercrossee]

them being so chummy in the 5 years time skip is so funny cuz i make them so blood thirsty to each other when they both first became leaders

[mikanotes]

teach me ft. eunhyuk x gn!reader

genre: angst/comfort (?) established relationship (?) warnings: sweet home 3 spoilers, nothing much just not my best fic Sorry!!! possibly super ooc eunhyuk author’s note: not much insp so this isn’t my best! the season was pretty good though so. yeah! have this because i love eunhyuk and i missed him a lot.

summary: What do you do when the fight is over? When the person you were looking for comes back with half of his self missing?

“You know I could be of use to you, right?”

“How?”

You groan in annoyance, tilting your head back. The sky is clear and the streets are quiet. This doesn’t quite feel like the ultimate perfect ending, it doesn’t quite feel like peace, but it’s a kind of calm you won’t take for granted. You look back up and continue walking.

“You’re missing tons of emotions. Trust me, there’s no one better than me to help you relearn them.” you say, attempting a dramatic salesman kind-of tone but failing miserably. You hear Eunhyuk scoff and think it was a bit of a victory, anyways.

“That sounds believable.”

“It is!” you insist, jogging up to him, “I swear we were dating before you went off and died.”

“I know.”

“That’s insane. You— I mean, you didn’t forget things, so then you must know this isn’t how you treat the person you’re dating after not seeing them for over a year. Surely.”

Eunhyuk turns to look at you. “The person you’re dating? We’re still together?”

“I mean, it’s not like I ever gave up on you.” you say, crossing your arms. He stares at you blankly for a couple more seconds before looking ahead again.

“Sounds like a waste of time.”

You sigh and let your expression fall for a second before fixing it. When your gaze falls on Eunhyuk again, his own expression has changed ever-so-slightly. There’s a crease between his eyebrows and his eyes are squinting a little, with a familiar tilt of his head. Then he blinks and returns to this neutral expression of his. “Is it not?”

“What else do you have to do with your time?”

“Finding others—”

“—Like you. Sixteenth time you say this, by the way,” you scoff, walking ahead of him. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

Your eyes are burning a little bit. No, none of this feels victorious. To hell with a final battle, with everyone escaping, with everything. Nothing has changed. All that’s good is Eunhyuk being alive and he only feels like half of himself.

The worst part is that he acts the same as he used to. To the detail. It’s so obviously him that it almost hurts— All his actions just miss the hidden emotions he always kept close to his heart. Now it all feels empty.

Eunhyuk says your name and your heart feels like it stops. Just for a moment. You turn to see him catch up to you and slow at your side.

“This thing,” he says, and pulls out a necklace from a pocket inside his coat, “It’s yours.”

You blink. “… Yeah. It is.”

He looks at the piece of jewelry, holding it up by the chain like some kind of random thing he found on the street, before tossing it around his hand and grabbing the pendant in his palm.

“She said to use memories to relearn emotions,” he recalls quietly, then turns to look at you, “What do you think?”

“You tell me. Do your memories help?”

“I remember caring about you.”

You stare at him dead in the eye and barely blink at all for a few seconds. He does, and tilts his head again.

“What is it?”

“Why am I the only one still in love? That’s really unfair.” you huff.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

“I said I remember everything, why are you trying to fool me? You always made this exact same face when you tried to hold back your tears,” he states, “I know this much.”

You heave a deep sigh and crouch down on the ground, covering your face with your hands. He’s right. It’s starting to make you angry. It really is him. It’s as if part of you was still trying to believe it wasn’t really Eunhyuk, that he was pretending not to feel emotions anymore. But it really hits you this time, that he’s simply lost that part of himself. You should be grateful that’s all he lost in the process of his rebirth, but you miss him. You miss him so much it hurts.

“I told you not to cry,” he sighs, and the closeness of his voice indicates he moved to your level, “What’s the point?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

You shake your head.

“…If it’s making you this sad, then alright. Help me relearn them. Emotions,” he says. You take a deep breath and look up slowly. He’s waiting, crouching in front of you, a casual expression on his bloody face. “I’m a quick learner.”

“Okay. I’m bad at teaching though, I totally lied earlier. Promise not to leave me.”

“I have no reason to anymore. Besides…” he trails off, gaze averting. “…”

Lee Eunhyuk is more confused than he’d like to admit. He doesn’t feel emotions anymore, and he doesn’t feel any attachment to them either. There’s little hints of them, however, here and there. He sees you in pain and there’s a slight discomfort in his chest, reminiscent of a time long gone. He sees that necklace and picture and wonders why he bothers carrying them around, still. He sees the road ahead of him and acknowledges that he’s… Just a bit lost.

What now?

“… It’s for the best I stay with you,” he says, blinks, then looks at you again, “I think.”

“You think?”

“That’s the best I can give you.” He smiles, a bit tightly, and the grimace you make in return before scoffing out a laugh tells him he must not be doing a great job at this whole thing. He gives up for now.

“Let’s find somewhere safe to stay first.”

“Anywhere is safe as long as you stay with me.”

You give him an expression of irritation that he doesn’t really understand and get up, immediately beginning to walk away. “Don’t say things like that! You’re making me hope! Shut up!”

He gets up slowly and follows you. “It’s true, though.”

“Shut up!”

[sunsetsimon]

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

mentions of ptsd, abuse, torture, touch aversion, nightmares

always remember, you are loved and cared for. reach out if you need help, i am always here to provide resources. you are not alone, do not go through this alone.

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

☼ jealousy. it wasn't a feeling that simon felt often, and not in the ways most people experienced it, he could care less about any materialistic items. his jealousy would stir in his stomach when he saw people doing to them - normal things. a hug goodbye, holding hands, it was all foreign to him.

he's used to a playful punch from soap or a pat on the shoulder from price, but he never initiates. when you first get together, he's uncomfortable with physical affection and will often unintentionally shut you down. your hand will reach for his but he doesn't move, not even noticing you attempting to touch him. he won't hug you before he leaves, only giving a nod and heading out.

he knows it hurts you but it's hard.

slowly he works on it, giving a loving squeeze and reaching for your hand, but it's a long process before it becomes an unconscious habit.

☼ simon doesn't sleep much to begin with, but when it gets bad, he starts to have nightmares almost every night. they're intense, seeming to last forever, as if he'd lived days in the dream. his sleepy mumbling will turn into physical reactions, his body starting to twitch, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turn white. gasping awake he shoots up, his hand immediately on his gun and ready for combat. he's sweaty, heart beating so fast it seemed like it'd jump out of his chest.

"you okay, si?" you whisper from beside him, snapping him back to reality. simon takes a deep breath, setting his pistol back down on the nightstand, unable to speak. immediately you recognize it was another nightmare, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his back. his head drops into his hands, needing to take time to relearn what his reality is; he's home, he's with you.

but fuck, why doesn't it feel that way then? why is he haunted every time he closes his eyes?

"'m so tired," he mumbles, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, trying not to question what he did to deserve this hell he calls his own mind.

"i know si... i wish i could take it all away," you attempt to comfort him, but know that nothing you do could help him right now, he just needs time. he gives your arm a pat before standing up, leaving to take time for himself. you hear his footsteps trail down the stairs and a door open, simon deciding to retreat to the garage for the next few hours until he feels okay again.

☼ he wouldn’t ever tell you what actually happened to him, just making vague comments here and there when the opportunity arises. he's scared to talk about it, not wanting to remember anything or try to process it.

your soft fingers trail along the pale scars littered across his skin, wondering what must've happened to him, all the pain he's been through. you stop at a small one on his left wrist, "how'd you get this one?"

"my dad was a piece of shit," and he leaves it at that. you don't push any further, accepting the curt answer with a nod. you softly kiss the scar, beautiful eyes flickering to his. it's things like this that slowly heal him, and instead of thinking of the pain that came with each scar, he thinks of your lips kissing each one as if that'd make it all better. you make it all better.

[yayll]

~ a little something about you and Dazai working together... or at least trying to ~

"Hold still! God, you really need to be more careful, Dazai, I worr-"

He blinks, and tilts his head, his voice soft yet firm as you both sit on the agency's couch.

"Would you mind looking at me real quick?"

You glance up from disinfecting his wound, and hum.

"Mm, why?"

He sighs, and when he speaks his voice comes out dramatic yet tantalizing, the way he always makes it sound when he knows he's about to say something silly. Something you'll hopefully scold him for! Yum...

"Oh, no reason... Just wanted a little kiss before I inevitably die in your loving embrace~"

You roll your eyes and groan, it makes his stomach do flips. There it is, that adorable shade of pink he loves so much! It matches the one you had on in bed this morning, but that's too naughty to think about now... Dazai hears the way your voice is significantly less strict, and he knows he has you. When does he not?

"Not now, Dazai-"

He interrupts, pouting as he reaches over and twists a lock of your hair in between his slender fingers, twirling it mindlessly while you mend his wound. He gives you a melting expression as his eyes droop enough for you to have no choice but to notice his despair as he whines.

"Mmm, why do you always only call me Dazai when we're at work?"

You sigh as you gently finish dressing his wounds, the fresh bandage mingling with his older ones... He makes a mental note to have you change those later too.

Anything to keep your hands all over him. Desiring him. Always in sight, always on the mind.

"Because we're at work... we're professionals, remember?"

That silly little comment makes him scoff.

"Hmph. Well, everyone knows..."

"Know what?"

"That you and I kiss in the supply closet sometim-"

You fling yourself against his chest and clamp his mouth shut, cheeks burning redder than a tomato. He licks the inside of your palm, causing you to immediately yank your hand away with a small squeak. You can't hold back the way your lips curl into an embarrassed smile as you hiss, and it makes him almost froth at the mouth... Trying to relearn decency is hard when he's this close to you.

"Professionals, Dazai!"

"... We should kiss" He blurts out, face smug.

"No"

"But it huuurtssss!" He's desperate now, resorting to the lowest of the lows so you'll accomodate him against all wishes, not like he has any shame left. He dramatically points at his wrapped up wrist, and slumps back onto the couch as he deflates into deadweight.

Your face softens and you look down, sighing in resignation that your boyfriend might just be a total baby FREAK. His pupils turn into hearts when you speak to him in the way he wants you to.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Who are you referring to?"

"You..?"

He smirks devilishly, and shrugs, feigning ignorance as he looks off to the side, arms crossed. You slowly start to get it, and crack a smirk. You exhale, shaking your head as you give him what he covets for.

"... Where does it hurt, Osamu?"

There it is, the magic word. By the time you're done asking that he's already crawled ontop of you, cornering you on the small loveseat and caging you in between his slender frame. Dazai takes your hand in his, and intertwines your fingers together as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose. His voice is soft, gentle, and talks you through it, just how he did this morning.

"Mmm, I'm not sure anymore... Let's find out together"

Your breath hitches, and you become bashful under him. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, knowing what it does to you, but more importantly what it does to his sick little mind. Leave it to Dazai to turn playful banter into something that will surely leave the two of you a mess... Hopefully you a little more than him. You whisper, a little breathless.

"Oh, now you're just baiting me, huh..."

"Well if I'm bait, then you're biting."

He whispers back, as if sucking the very life force out of you with his eye contact alone. This is how he wins, how he secures heaven for himself every single day, selfishly. He's not hiding anything in his expressions. He wants you for him, and no one else.

You really never stood a chance.