#I’m not doing research on a topic I picked out per se

[on-stolen-sunbeams]

.

PI prof just sent me a grant application thing that I should fill out bc undergrad in research! It me! and I’ve already been doing a ton of writing for the actual paper but this makes it real like really real outside of the safe bubble of the lab and given the lab will be closed over next summer (probably) I gotta start figuring out what I’ll be doing bc I want to do research. Might be kind of freaking out a ton.

on the upside, multivariable prof is a wicked fast grader and I did better than I assumed (still not good but passable) so that’s nice :)

[yinyuedijun]

i dont know if this is an unusual thing to ask (or if it has been asked before), but i’ve always immensely admired the effort you put in your fics with how well-researched they all are, especially when it comes to cultural details of the story/concept (it’s very immersive because it feels like i’m learning as i read further, not only about the character/s but about the culture the story is set in as well)

and so im curious, how do you start or how do you go about the research when starting a fic?

aw thank you anon!!! I'm so glad you find the fics interesting from a learning perspective, I'm always so happy to hear when people appreciate the research I've done for my fics 🥹

I don't really have a set method for research, but here are some basic tips:

for topics that I don't know a lot about, I usually start by skimming the wikipedia article on the topic, picking out key points of interest that are relevant to the story, and then googling to find academic pages or books on that topic. then I usually try to stick to those sources for my writing, both because they go into more depth and because I know they'll be more reliable than other sources on the web

ALSO when I was writing the yakuza au, which is a topic I knew close to nothing about - for the first time, I tried to begin my research by watching documentaries and video essays on youtube, and it also worked CRAZY well. super digestible and way less labour intensive than googling and trying to find academic sources.

if you're trying to get a sense of everyday life for something, or how a regular person might view/act on the subject rather than an academic or journalist perspective, I find video blogs and reddit threads to be a really informative source. for instance, I've never been to any hostess bars in japan so I tried to look for AMAs from hostesses and was quite successful in that regard (especially for things like terminology/slang that people use)

this final tip is not really a research method per se, but helps with it. in my real life I'm always on the lookout for subjects that I find extremely interesting, and I try to retain as much info about it as I can in case the opportunity ever comes up to write about it. so for example, in my feudal japan au, I came up with those inari shrine plot points because I visited fushimi inari shrine once and got super obsessed with all the fox statues LOL. naturally when I was writing about a fox spirit character, that came back to mind, and I already had a reference point for my research, which helped.

I hope this helps!

[coinandcandle]

Hi! I’m a baby witch and I can never get myself to actually do anything in my practice. Is there anything simple that I could do regularly?

Hey!!

There are actually a lot of things you can do regularly that are super simple! These are my personal favorite:

If cartomancy is part of your practice, try pulling a card a day, there are websites and apps that will help you do this if you don't have a physical deck.

Learn something new. I don't mean to do a deep research dive. Find something you want to learn about and take even just 5 minutes to learn about it.

Practice mindfulness. Hot word today, it seems! While mindfulness isn't inherently witchy, I would personally suggest trying some simple mindfulness exercises to help you get in tune with yourself and the world around you. This may help you connect to the magic around you as well. Speaking of which...

Realize that there is magic everywhere! Walk outside or take a look out your window and see how the world moves. You don't have to literally see it or even feel it per se, just remind yourself that it's there.

Try 7-day spell creation. Think of a spell you want to do and then once a day for 7 days set time aside to answer one of these sections:

What…

ingredients will you need?

vessel or objects are needed for the spell?

Who…

is it for?

is needed? (Other people, deities, spirits, etc)

When…

is the spell going to take place?

Where…

will the spell take place?

will you dispose of the remains (if needed)?

will you place the vessel (if applicable)?

Why…

are you doing the spell?

How…

will you anchor and contain the spell?

power it?

and on the 7th day, you can gather up your resources and do your spell! Or not! You can just use this as practice for spell creation and you can choose to actually do the spell on a later day.

Some other tips:

Set alarms, reminders in your calendar, or even just put post-it notes up. Anything that can remind you to do the witchy activity that you want to do.

Create a short list of things you want to learn about so that you can pick one topic every day that you choose to learn about it.

Focus on one thing at a time. You don't need to learn everything all at once, doing so will only clutter your mind and likely overwhelm you.

Don't stress if you miss a day or two, just promise yourself that you'll get back on the grind when you are able to!

These are based on my opinion and experience but I still hope they can work for you!

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (5/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: SFW, T+

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage

Word Count: 1998

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: My only note is that the characters in this fanfiction do some questionable things. This does not at all reflect my personal morals or anything I would do (and certainly hope you would not do). Please don’t read this story if you can’t separate fiction from reality. Fanfiction is for entertainment and should not be something that teaches you to be or act a certain way. Thanks!

Enjoy

***

Regulus is met with silence when (y/n) climbs into their bed after the fight and more silence when she doesn't acknowledge him in the morning, dressing silently before sitting on the balcony with her book.

He glances out of the glass door, watching her devour the words on the worn book. Sighing loudly, he looks back towards the parchment on the desk. He didn't exactly know what to say to Sirius. He knew he wanted his older brother to know about the developments his life had taken in the past month, but how do you complain without sounding entirely pathetic? Especially when your complaining was truly aimed at your own actions and attitudes. Sirius would love (y/n); he was sure he would. In a way, (y/n) sort of reminded Regulus of his brother. She was so adamant about not following the rules that people like them followed. Obviously, she hadn't been able to escape Pureblood society the way Sirius had... He doubted, though (y/n) would have tried. It had to be harder to be a woman in the circles they found themselves in. He honestly couldn't imagine living at the level she was expected to.

It's not like he had any special freedom from the constricting nature of their society, but he could do many things she couldn't while still maintaining his reputation. He could have affairs, he could (but personally wouldn't) abuse his spouse, he could even live separate from her without causing a stir. All these things happened within marriages like their own, and only the women seemed to be ruined by their actions and the actions of their husbands and fathers. 

Regulus picks up his quill, intending to finally start this blasted letter. Where does he even begin?

 Sirius,

I do not have any great excuses for my lack of communication, other than the last month, which has been one of the most hectic of my life. I am unsure what you have heard. I doubt you have a full picture of what my life has become, as I would hope you would reach out to congratulate your younger brother on his recent nuptials if you had heard. 

My new wife, (y/n) Black née (y/ln), apparently checked off the boxes our parents found necessary for the next Mistress Black. Funnily enough, though, I'm not sure they did much research into who she is as (y/n) could hardly be considered the traditional Pureblood bride.

But that is hardly a bad thing; if anything, I find her refreshing, if not a bit maddening at times. I had been somewhat afraid to have a meek and mild wife who would cower under my gaze. (y/n), despite being brought up similarly to us, she seems to have developed her own personality outside of Pureblood society. She isn't bitter or greedy like the other girls. The only piece of jewelry I have been able to give her without argument has been that horrible engagement ring-- you know, the one from mum's side. She doesn't want the things most of these Pureblood girls want. Jewelry and expensive things don't seem to make her happy the way mother said they would.

Even as she is different, I have this ever-increasing fear that I might drive her towards the other's level of bitterness and unhappiness. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what I am doing with women; this fact has not changed in my marriage. It's become even more apparent that I haven't a clue how I should behave as I've been forced into this relationship.

It has also become clear that Mother's advice has been shit, as every attempt I've made with my bride has been met with annoyance from her. I can't seem to give her what she truly wants. Embarrassingly enough, what she talks of-- craves from me is some sort of romantic connection. This is something I hadn't planned on in an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure if I will be able to indulge her without a bit of deceit. 

Which I would feel horrible for doing-- pretending. 

Last night, like many nights in recent weeks, I found myself in an argument with my wife over this exact topic. Something she said triggered a memory, hopefully, a memory that you have a recollection of as well.

Do you, brother, have any memories of our dear mother when she was-- well, motherly, to say the least. Warm and loving, as a mother should be. When she would admit to us in hushed tones that the love we showed her was the replacement for the lack of love between Orion and herself?

During the heated exchange with my wife, I was struck with that strange memory, and I realized deeply and uncomfortably that I was in the early stages of pushing my own wife towards becoming our mother. Something, I realize now, I cannot allow to happen.

Pushing this girl towards unhappiness when she was forced into marrying me by her parents is unacceptable on my part. I'm completely aware that it is me who is making us miserable. I should be happy, or at least satisfied enough in the marriage to indulge her, to try. (y/n) is beautiful, everything a man could want in a wife. And I do want her. 

Yet, I do not know how to want her the way she is expecting me to. And, I have to reiterate that I don't know how to even-- fall in love, I suppose.

Through my woeful letter, I hope you see a solution to my dilemma. Or at least can offer advice as I have no idea which direction I should go at this time.

Sincerely,

Regulus places his quill to the side, reading over the content of his letter. At times, he sounds like a pathetic child whining, but he hopes his brother can see he sincerely wants his advice.

Very much requires any advice Sirius may have.

None of Sirius's advice could be helpful on the trials and tribulations of marriage per se, but if anyone had experience in relationships, it was Sirius Black. Sirius, who wooed and flirted his way through life, would know exactly how he would be able to win (y/n) over and hopefully form a romantic relationship with her.

Slowly, Regulus gets up from the desk, taking his time to cross the room. Opening the glass door to the balcony, he pokes his head out. When (y/n) doesn't look up, he clears his throat.

She freezes, slowly lowering the book enough for their eyes to meet, but doesn't say a word.

"I'm going to go to the lobby to have this posted." Regulus feels the light pink of embarrassment on the tops of his cheeks.

(y/n) nods once before giving her attention back to the blasted book. Regulus's lips pinch before he shuts the door a bit louder than necessary.

Much to his annoyance, the banging noise doesn't seem to faze his wife. 

He stalks down to the library in a mood, the letter to Sirius gripped tightly in his right hand.

A young witch greets him, asking if he needed any assistance with anything.

"I require an owl. I have a very urgent letter that needs to arrive as soon as possible."

"Okay, if you'll follow me, we can get your letter sent." The witch leads him up to the rooftop, showing him the hotel's fastest owl.

***

A sharp knock on their suite's door startles Regulus, who had been reading the Prophet to pass the time. He gets up off of the room's couch, opening the door to an older gentleman.

"Mail delivery, Master Black." The old man hands him a hastily folded piece of parchment addressed to him in Sirius's messy excuse for handwriting.

"Uh-- thank you." Regulus digs in his pocket, pulling out money to tip the man. They exchange the items, and Regulus hurries over to the desk. Hurriedly, he breaks the wax seal and opens the letter.

 You got married?

Ah, yes. His ever eloquent brother didn't even bother to address the letter, jumping right to the point.

Regulus reads on...

You got married? And I didn't even get an invitation? I'm sort of hurt, but yet again, mum would've been pissed if I showed up. How fun would that have been, though? Me crashing your wedding in my Docs and my worn Led Zeppelin shirt. Mum would've freaked.

We really missed an opportunity, Reggie.

But, wow. You married. That's wild. And she's a bit wild as well? How did you manage to end up in an arranged marriage with what seems like the most unique of the Pureblood lot? Besides me, of course.

I'll have to meet this fascinating (y/n) (y/ln)-- or should I say (y/n) Black? Weird-- I have a sister-in-law. That feels too grown-up and stuffy.

Maybe it feels wrong, mostly because you never dated anyone, or at least anyone I knew of.

The point you made about you knowing absolutely nothing about women is incredibly accurate, I'm afraid, Reggie. The poor girl, I hope you haven't been ignoring her like Orion does to Walburga. But, I'm almost certain that you have been sort of an ass to her by your letter.

You want advice though, do you now, little brother. Here is my advice to you:

I have dated plenty of people in my days-- plenty. If you truly wish to make your wife (what the hell that is so odd to write!) happy, Regulus, you need to get to know her. 

Ask her questions about her likes, her dislikes. What her childhood was like, who her friends are. Even silly things such as how she takes her tea or what she grew up wanting to be as an adult. But you must be prepared to be vulnerable and answer questions she has for you as well. If you can't open up and be vulnerable, you will never be successful in 

A) forming a "romantic connection" with (y/n) and 

B) falling in love with your wife. 

I hope that I have been helpful. My advice is simple, but knowing the woman you promised to spend eternity with is necessary to live a peaceful life. Maybe the whole "happy wife happy life" saying is accurate. Not like I would know, but still.

As for the memory of Walburga you brought up, I do remember instances like that. I hadn't thought about those instances in a very long time. I hope you are successful in your attempts with (y/n). I would hate to see another woman turn out like our mother.

Your brother,

 P.S. Take your wife out somewhere romantic! For Merlin's sake, Regulus. You have to have some romance somewhere hidden within you!

 ***

Regulus decides there's no better time than the present to follow Sirius's advice. Unfortunately, he already used up his one "romantic" idea (really Orion's, but still) with their disastrous dinner the previous night.

His only option would be to find a local who would know of spots he might take his wife to. He reckons the logical locals to ask where these locations would be are the hotel's staff.

The same witch that helped him with the owl still sits at the hotel's lobby desk. She grins widely when she notices he's walking towards her, "Oh! You're back!"

Regulus controls his mild annoyance with the woman as she bats her eyelashes foolishly.

"I wonder if you know any places around the city that you recommend for honeymooners?"

The girl's face falls slightly before she's grinning again, "You're on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, you've probably seen my wife with me," he says, asserting that he does have a wife and that the girl shouldn't get her hopes up, "I'd like to take her out this afternoon, but I'm afraid I know little of the spots couple's usually visit around here."

The witch thinks for a moment, "I think I have a perfect place in mind."

[crybabykiko]

hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞

I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.

*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE

NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei

Gn!reader focused

Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.

For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Lmfao no.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:

Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.

Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.

Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”

Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”

Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.

He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.

Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!

He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.

He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

[lassostark]

So yeah, I got carried away. As usual. *facepalm* Anyway, Happy Birthday, Wolfie @jaskierswolf!!! I hope you enjoy reading this long-ass fic, lovely. 😀💙 

(Edited) Word Count: 9k (I have a problem, I know)

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Tags: AU: College/University, Professor!Jaskier, Professor!Geralt, Soulmates, Rated M for Language, Jaskier!Whump, Miscommunication, Enemies to Lovers (ish, can’t find the right tag sorry), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending

Read on AO3 here

--------

The Other Half

“Do I have a class to teach here or are all of you going to be focused on your phones?”

Jaskier is standing in front of his desk, hands on his hips as he gives his Creative Writing class students a stern look. Several of them look up from their phones with guilty expressions, and if Jaskier wasn’t in the middle of a lecture about storytelling in poetry, he would’ve laughed at their almost identical expressions.

“Sorry, Professor,” Rebecca, one of his favorite students, says. Jaskier raises an eyebrow at her, and the brunette blushes faintly as she reluctantly turns off her phone.

“Care to share what has everyone’s attention glued to their phones instead of me?” Jaskier smirks, injecting a bit of humor into his query. He notes how half of his students chuckle as others follow Rebecca’s lead in turning off their phones.

“It’s Sole Mate, sir,” a student from the back answers.

Jaskier frowns slightly. “Soulmate? Did another celebrity couple split up because they met their other half?”

There’s a ripple of laughter in the classroom while others shake their head. Thankfully, it’s Rebecca who gives him a proper answer.

“Er, no, sir,” she begins. “Sole Mate. The new app that’s been circulating lately? Everyone said it’s loads better than Tinder because instead of just random hook-ups -- um, I mean dates -- Sole Mate allows you to find your, well, soulmate.”

By the end of her explanation, Jaskier’s eyebrows are nearly reaching his hairline. He’s no stranger to social media and technology, so Jaskier knows what Rebecca is talking about. In fact, he’s noticed that aside from the students in the campus, he’s heard his fellow colleagues talking about it every now and then. Which is odd, to be honest, because for one, professors like Jaskier aren’t really that open about the whole soulmate thing. It’s not a taboo, per se, but more like a personal thing because not everyone has met their soulmate yet.

So while he’s aware that people are talking about the topic, Jaskier didn’t think that it was this big of a deal.

“I… see.” Jaskier nods, giving himself a few extra seconds to come up with a follow-up question. He coughs lightly before clearing his throat. “I’ve heard about that app, but I’m afraid I’m not familiar with its algorithm. What makes it so special, hm?”

Another student, Marcus, raises his ring-laden hand in the air. Jaskier gestures for him to speak.

“Well, sir, Sole Mate gives you the option to upload a photo of your soulmark. The photo is never made public, of course, but rather it’s an added feature that’ll help the app. Once it’s in the system, Sole Mate narrows down the scope of the search to people who have a similar look to your mark. It’s broken into groups which the app refers to as Sole Groups. Then you just chat with the people who are in those groups that meet the criteria until you meet the one whose mark matches yours.”

“I read an article from CNN yesterday,” Arif pipes in. “Since the app launched three months ago, there’s been a 95% increase of people finding their soulmates compared to the last ten years. And just yesterday, I found out my great-aunt found her match!”

“I’m going on a date tonight and I think they’re my match!”

Jaskier looks on in befuddlement as his students start to whisper excitedly to one another about the prospect of meeting their soulmate. He blinks and shakes his head before calling their attention once more.

“Alright, alright!” Jaskier calls over their chattering. “Enough now, please. Midterms are a month from now and we still have much ground to cover.”

“How about you, sir? Have you found your Sole Group yet?”

Jaskier hides his amusement at how eager his students look at him. Instead, he shakes his head and smirks at them as he moves around his desk to pick up his chalk.

“No, Damian,” he says mildly. “I don’t see a need for me to do so.”

“But why not?” Rebecca asks, sounding both curious and confused. “Don’t you want to meet your soulmate, sir?”

Fortunate that he’s facing the blackboard so his students can’t see his conflicted expression, Jaskier writes a few notes on the board as he flippantly replies, “I’m happy on my own and don’t see myself settling down, Ms. Haywood.” Before his students can pry further, he adds in a sterner tone, “Now, please pay attention to the lecture because there will be a quiz before the end of this class.”

There’s a collective groan behind him which Jaskier happily ignores as he launches into his lecture once more.

~

“‘I’m happy on my own and don’t see myself settling down’?” Essi repeats to Jaskier later when they’re on their lunch break. “That’s a load of bollocks, love.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes as he pops a grape in his mouth.

“Obviously,” he says after swallowing his food. “My students don’t need to know I already met my soulmate, Essi.”

“I know that,” Essi replies. “And I respect your privacy for saying that. But you don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

“What the hell are you on about now?”

“I mean that you don’t have to lie to yourself, Jask.”

“I’m not lying!”

Essi scoffs at him. “Oh, please. We’ve known each other for nearly ten years. I know when you’re lying, Jask. You do that thing with your lips; it’s subtle but don’t think I didn’t see it earlier.”

Jaskier scowls at his friend, who’s one of the best and strictest Marketing professors in Redania University. So instead of replying, he decides to take a huge bite out of his ham and egg sandwich.

She’s lucky I love her, Jaskier thinks moodily.

“Still haven’t spoken to him?” Essi asks him after several minutes of comfortable silence pass.

‘Him’ being Jaskier’s soulmate, obviously.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Are you ever going to speak to him?”

“Once he has his head out of his arse, maybe I’ll contemplate breathing the same air as him.”

Essi whistles low. “Damn, was the confrontation really that bad, Jask?”

Jaskier pointedly stares at her.

“Essi, darling, I’ve told you about it a hundred times in various states of inebriation and sobriety. Of course it was bad. It was horrendous for both parties.”

And honestly, Jaskier doesn’t want to talk about it. Hell, he doesn’t even want to think about it because every time he does, he feels nothing but disappointment and anger and hurt. Goddamn it, it’s been three years and it still fucking hurts. It’s a constant phantom pain in his chest that Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with, and he’s been living with that kind of pain for years with no hopes for resolution in sight.

He thinks of that day, the confrontation as Essi puts it, and all Jaskier can think of are golden eyes filled with apathy. An inscrutable expression on his soulmate’s chiseled features after Jaskier told him that they’re meant to be together.

Well, Jaskier didn’t say it like that, exactly, because he was nervous. He was rambling and sweating in places he didn’t know he could sweat, and he had just met his soulmate for fuck’s sake!

Alas, like the idealist he is, his expectations didn’t meet his reality.

“Oh shit,” Essi suddenly says, breaking Jaskier from his glum thoughts. “Don’t look. Your three o’clock.”

Because Jaskier has an issue with impulse control, he looks.

And he freezes.

There, dressed in tight-fitting grey slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, is Jaskier’s soulmate.

Geralt Rivia.

His hair is fixed into a man bun, and Jaskier feels his chest constrict at the wisps of silver hair framing his jawline. Geralt hasn’t seen them, thankfully, because he’s busy chatting with Yennefer Vengerberg, the gorgeous yet cutthroat International Relations professor who’s notorious for failing 40% of her students.

Jaskier is about to look away when Geralt turns his head and meets his eyes.

Fuck.

He notes the deep furrow between Geralt’s brows, the Anthropology professor’s hold on his lunch tray tightening when their gazes meet across the room. As much as Jaskier talks about being alright on his own, he can’t help but secretly admit to himself that he likes the shiver of pleasure that runs down his spine when their eyes meet. Jaskier read somewhere that researchers called it The Spark. It’s cheesy, yes, but it’s exactly that. An electrifying feeling shared between two halves of a whole finding each other.

Then reality comes crashing down and Jaskier remembers what Geralt told him that day and he thinks: Fuck this.

Appetite gone, Jaskier clears his throat and looks away. He deliberately ignores Essi’s sympathetic gaze as he packs up the rest of his uneaten food. He stands up and slings his shoulder bag before daring to look at his friend.

“I just remembered I have papers to grade. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Essi nods her head. Jaskier doesn’t wait for a reply and turns to make his escape, but not before he catches Geralt still staring at him.

For the life of him, Jaskier is still unable to read the man’s facial expressions. It’s just so… inscrutable. Like staring into a slab of brick wall with no hopes of breaking through it. Jaskier doesn’t know why he still finds himself caring at this point.

Who is he kidding? He’s always cared.

“Professor Pankratz.”

Jaskier averts his eyes from Geralt to meet Yennefer’s violet eyes, a smirk on her ruby lips. They’re not close, and though he finds the woman equally terrifying and beautiful, Jaskier can’t help but be a little fond of her.

“Professor Vengerberg,” he acknowledges her haughty look with a faint smile.

From his peripheral gaze, Geralt looks like he’s opening his mouth to address him. But Jaskier thinks it’s probably a trick of the light, so he walks away and forces himself not to look back.

No matter how painful it is. No matter how his soulmark feels like it’s going to burn a hole through his shirt.

~

3 years ago

“Is that the new Anthropology professor?” Essi whispers to Jaskier excitedly.

Jaskier gazes across the spacious meeting room to find the person his friend is referring to. It’s about damn time the university hired someone to replace Mousesack. The elderly scholar looked like ready to drop if he stayed for another semester.

“I don’t see-- oh.”

Oh, indeed. Jaskier shamelessly eyes the silver-haired Adonis dressed in grey slacks and a tight-fitting dress shirt. He notes with mild amusement how the newcomer looks a little awkward standing beside the drinks table, drink in hand as he silently eyes his surroundings with a guarded expression.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Jaskier says under his breath.

“The hair isn’t doing it for me, but yeah he’s gorgeous,” Essi agrees with a hum.

“I’m gonna introduce myself. Be right back.”

Jaskier doesn’t wait for Essi’s response as he quickly crosses the room to approach the brooding man. Like a lone wolf eyeing his prey, he thinks with an inward chuckle.

“Hello, there,” Jaskier greets the man with a friendly smile once he’s standing a respectable distance from him. He quickly takes note of their height difference. Well, more like a lack of it as Jaskier surmises the burly man is only an inch or two taller than him. “You must be the new Anthropology professor. I’m Julian Pankratz, but everyone here calls me Jaskier. I teach Introduction to Creative Writing and Advanced Creative Writing.”

Jaskier feels his smile start to falter as the silver-haired Adonis initially doesn’t accept his handshake. He’s about to bring down his arm when he feels a warm, calloused hand curl around his.

That’s when he feels it: the spark. Jaskier is unable to hide a gasp when he feels an electrifying feeling trail down his spine. He blinks owlishly at the other man who looks just as shocked as him.

“Geralt Rivia,” the man introduces himself after a few seconds of awkward silence pass. Jaskier feels another shiver down his spine upon hearing the low, growly voice.

“N-nice to meet you, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

Instead of feeling annoyed, Jaskier feels endeared at the non-verbal reply. He finds his gaze falling on their clasped hands, and he’s about to let go when something catches his eye and he freezes on the spot.

Geralt has his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, so Jaskier can see the veins and light dusting of hair on his arm. But that’s not what he’s focusing on, no. He finds himself drawn to Geralt’s forearm, where a familiar-looking mark resides. A mark that Jaskier can draw in his sleep because he bears the same mark since he was born.

Holy shit, Jaskier thinks as he looks up to meet Geralt’s puzzled frown with a slackened expression. I just met my soulmate.

~

Present day

“Hang on, you bloody cat,” Jaskier grumbles under his breath as he enters his one-bedroom apartment later that evening. Mister Fuzzball meows and curls his orange tail around his calf while Jaskier locks the door. “Yes, yes, you will get your meal in a bit. Just let me put down my bag, darling.”

Mister Fuzzball meows again as the tabby cat trails after him.

Jaskier goes through the motions of his nighttime routine like clockwork. Change into his home clothes, feed Mister Fuzzball, prepare his own dinner, and then eat his dinner on the couch while watching a rerun episode of The Office.

Afterwards, he leaves the dirty dishes on the sink to sit on the small dining table to grade more papers. He works silently for a couple of hours while nursing a glass of wine, and when Jaskier finds that he can no longer find the energy to constructively criticize his students’ writing, he turns in for the night. He cuddles Mister Fuzzball for a few minutes before going to the loo to brush his teeth and do his extensive skincare routine.

By eleven o’clock, Jaskier is in bed with the lights turned off. He lets out a sigh as he stares aimlessly at his ceiling and wonders how his life has come to this. Just going through the motions of a routine well-established whilst trying his best to ignore the ache in his chest.

Lost in his thoughts, Jaskier finds himself stroking his left collarbone, tracing the lines that are slightly raised as he hums a nameless tune under his breath.

Rebirth. That’s what his soulmark symbolizes. But all Jaskier feels these days is the opposite.

He doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

~

“- so I told mum that I’ll spend Christmas with them and then go to Scotland for New Year’s with Edmund. What about you?”

Belatedly, Jaskier notices the silence has stretched on, so he looks up from staring at the painting of Philippa Eilhart to meet Essi’s worried gaze.

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you alright, Jask?” Essi asks. “You don’t look too well, love.”

Jaskier bats off her hands as his friend tries to feel his forehead for a fever.

“I’m fine, Essi. Just tired.”

“Not sleeping well?”

He shakes his head. He can’t explain it, but he’s feeling more lethargic than usual.

“No, I’m sleeping fine. I’m just tired, s’all.”

Essi doesn’t look convinced, so Jaskier musters what strength he has left to smile at her.

“I’m fine, mother. There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“If you say so, Jask,” Essi replies with an eye roll. Then teasingly, she adds, “Better apply concealer, though. I can see your bags from here.”

Jaskier gasps and tosses the crumpled wrapper of his sandwich at her.

~

3 years ago

“Geralt! Hey, hi. Do you have a minute?”

Jaskier smiles nervously at the hot Anthropology professor who is about to exit the break room. Geralt turns to look at Jaskier with a puzzled frown before he grunts and nods his head. Relieved, Jaskier tilts his head and gestures for the other man to follow him to a somewhat secluded corner of the room. Although standing beside the painting of Philippa Eilhart, one of the founders of Redania University, isn’t such a good idea. But Jaskier is out of good ideas at this point because he’s nearly bursting at the seams to do something he’s been meaning to do for the past three months since he met Geralt Rivia.

“What did you want to talk about?” Geralt asks him, looking curiously at Jaskier now.

Jaskier clears his throat and wipes his sweaty palms on his slim corduroy pants as he works up the nerve to just… do it.

“Yes, um, so,” he begins eloquently. Oh gods, this was easier in his head. “So we’ve known each for a few months now and I like to think we’ve reached a certain understanding of one another. One might, er, even say that we’re casual friends at this point.”

Geralt blinks at him but doesn’t say anything. If Jaskier looks closely, which he is, he thinks there’s something akin to amusement dancing in the other man’s golden eyes. Could be a trick of the light, but Jaskier has high hopes.

“Geralt, um,” Jaskier continues. He tries his best to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his belly as he focuses on what he’s going to say next. “I don’t know how to say this, exactly, because it’s never happened to me before. But, um. Well, the university is singing your praise and you’re an unexpected hit with the students. No surprise there, if you ask me, you’re an incredibly beautiful man and, oh god.”

“You’re rambling,” Geralt notes with a slight upwards quirk of his mouth.

Jaskier scratches the back of his head. “Yes, I’m well aware, thank you.”

Geralt snorts, looking amused now.

“Just spit it out, Jask,” he says not unkindly.

And, well. That ought to do the trick.

“We’re soulmates,” Jaskier blurts out. He doesn’t notice Geralt stiffen, too preoccupied with getting the words out now that he’s finally said it. “And before you say anything, I saw your mark. On the first day we met - well, I introduced myself. We shook hands and you had sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and that’s when I noticed the mark etched on your forearm.” When Geralt doesn’t say anything, Jaskier hurriedly adds, “I have the same mark, you see. Right here.”

Then and there, Jaskier unbuttons his white dress shirt and yanks the collar of his undershirt down to show Geralt the same dandelion tattoo across his left collarbone.

Seconds, and then minutes, pass by and Geralt remains stoic, an unreadable expression on his chiseled features. Jaskier’s smile falters as he self-consciously buttons up his shirt once more, feeling naked and seen under the stoic gaze of his colleague.

“Geralt? What, um. Please say something.”

It takes several seconds before Geralt reacts. The older man breathes in deep through his nose and slowly exhales through his mouth. He blinks at Jaskier, golden eyes swiftly glancing at his covered soulmark.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier nearly balks at the response. Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that!

“Geralt?”

When Geralt meets his hopeful stare, Jaskier knows his answer from the lack of emotion in the other man’s eyes. Something in him cracks at that very moment.

“I don’t know what to say,” Geralt begins haltingly.

Jaskier’s voice is hoarse when he answers, “The truth would be nice.”

Geralt hums but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. He looks at the painting to his left, and Jaskier silently observes him as he works up the nerve to share his thoughts.

Eventually, Geralt settles upon saying, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

A part of Jaskier was already expecting it, based on Geralt’s initial reaction, but it still hurts, holy shit.

“Can you…” Jaskier clears his throat. “Can you tell me why? Maybe, maybe we can compromise?”

His voice trails off when Geralt shakes his head.

“I’m not… available. The whole soulmate thing is… hmm. It’s not my thing. I don’t believe in that whole destiny crap. I’m sorry.”

Not his thing? Doesn’t believe in the “whole destiny crap”?

What?

“But, but Geralt,” Jaskier protests weakly. “You’re my other half. And I’m your--”

“I said I’m not interested,” Geralt reiterates firmly, golden eyes determinedly not meeting Jaskier. “I’m sorry, Jaskier.”

Then without waiting for a response, Geralt shoulders past him and leaves the break room like he’s being chased by a pack of wolves.

Jaskier stares at the spot where Geralt was standing just moments ago, feeling like he lost the one thing he never had in the first place.

~

Present day

“Remind me again why Valentine’s Day is not considered a proper holiday?”

Essi is looking through the books that line up the shelves of Jaskier’s office as he rummages the piles of paper scattered on his desk.

“Because Valentine’s Day is not a proper holiday, Essi,” Jaskier answers somewhat distractedly. He continues searching for one of the papers he remembers grading the night before, but he can’t find. It. Here. “It’s just a big, fat scheme for companies to capitalize on lovesick fools. Now where the bloody fuck is that paper?!”

Essi ignores his grumbling.

“Hmm, true, but they should. I mean, any business big or small can develop a strong value proposition aimed at lovesick couples. Of course, the competition would be ghastly, but considering that Sole Mate has matched 5,000 couples in the UK alone, I think they missed an opportunity there.”

“Whatever you--” Jaskier starts to say, only to immediately cut himself off when he starts coughing. And it’s not the good kind of cough, either.

He spends almost a minute coughing up a lung, and he ultimately accepts the tissues Essi hands him. He thanks her with a thumbs up before he spits out the phlegm on it. Jaskier crumples it up before tossing it in the bin under his desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Are you okay?” Essi asks him, sounding worried.

Jaskier nods as he clears his throat before speaking.

“Yes yes, I’m fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Jask, you don’t look fine.”

Jaskier waves off his friend’s concern as he pushes a book out of the way. He makes a triumphant sound when he finally finds the missing paper. Jaskier quickly shoves it into his messenger bag as he picks up his blazer to shrug into it.

He meets Essi’s worried gaze, and Jaskier tries to appease her with a dimpled smile.

“Turn that frown upside down. I’m perfectly fine, Essi.”

Essi still doesn’t look convinced. “Have you been to the doctor? You should go for a check-up.”

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m still recovering from the flu last week but I’m regularly drinking that herbal tea you recommended to me. It’s working wonders on my throat. I’ll be right as rain in no time, don’t you worry.”

~

Rejected soulbonds are few and far between as far as Jaskier is aware. There’s not much study material available on the Internet, but what he’s found out so far doesn’t help ease the anxiety that’s been building up for months now.

Lethargy. A decrease in the immune system. Difficulty with sleeping. Shortness of breath.

They’re a few of the symptoms that researchers from Kerack Institute compiled a few years ago from studying broken, or rejected, soulbonds. According to their study, it’s not a life-threatening situation. People who experience this usually end up recovering after a period of time. Broken or rejected soulbonds usually occur if the person’s soulmate is deceased before they meet, or if their other half is already in a committed relationship with someone else.

In Jaskier’s case, it’s neither. Geralt’s rejection still stings after all these years, and Jaskier doesn’t understand why he still feels like it happened yesterday. The ache in his chest is not dissipating at all. In fact, it’s worsening as days go by. He’s been to see a cardiologist, and the scans showed that his heart is perfectly fine. So whatever Jaskier is going through right now is not physical, but more… psychological? Emotional?

He’s not certain about that since there’s not enough material about his case. But one thing does stand out from what Jaskier read about rejected soulbonds.

Proximity is what makes or breaks the affected party.

Unfortunately, Jaskier and Geralt are employed in the same university. They attend the same weekly meeting, attend the university’s functions when required, and they usually see each other during their breaks. It’s not often, but it happens frequently.

So the more he sees Geralt, the worse Jaskier feels. And over time, it could literally be his life on the line.

And therein lies the problem.

Well, there’s only one thing left to do.

~

“You want to go on sabbatical?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“I believe that’s what I just said, yes.”

Vesemir Morhen, the president of Redania University, looks at Jaskier with a perplexed expression.

“Jaskier, may I know why you’re requesting to go on leave in the middle of the semester?”

Jaskier hesitates for a second before replying, “I just think it’s the right time to do so, sir. I talked to Priscilla, and she’s willing to shoulder my classes for the rest of term. There’s not much ground to cover--”

“Jaskier, Priscilla is going on maternity leave starting next month,” Vesemir interrupts him, eyebrow raised.

“Well, um, I’m aware of that.”

“Then why--”

“That’s why I talked to Coën to cover for her, well, for me, next--”

“No.”

Jaskier snaps his mouth shut mid-tirade at Vesemir’s stern gaze.

“Sir, please, I--”

Vesemir shakes his head.

“No, Jaskier. If you really want to take a sabbatical, you can do so after the term ends. At this moment, I can’t allow you to go on leave. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“Very well, sir,” Jaskier answers stiffly, knowing that once Vesemir has made his mind up there’s no chance of him changing his decision.

So he’s stuck for another three months here.

Fuck, he curses to himself. Damn it.

~

It’s a little late in the evening and Jaskier is just about to leave his office. After hours of hunching over his desk marking papers from his Advanced Creative Writing class, Jaskier is more than ready to eat leftovers for dinner and binge-watch a few episodes of Anne With An E. Fortunately, he doesn’t have a scheduled class until tomorrow afternoon so he can sleep in a little bit later.

Jaskier locks his office, pockets his key, and turns to walk down the hallway towards the parking lot when he finds himself meeting Geralt’s gaze across the corridor. A jolt runs down his spine as he staggers in his steps, and Jaskier is momentarily nonplussed at the peculiar look on the burly man’s face.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says eventually when he doesn’t speak up.

Jaskier swallows inaudibly, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth.

“Geralt.”

Jaskier waits patiently as he eyes the Anthropology professor who looks like he’s working up the courage to say something. It’s certainly a first, and Jaskier is not sure what Destiny has up her - his? Their? - sleeve this time.

He’s fucking exhausted, damn it.

“Yennefer told me you were planning to go on sabbatical,” Geralt finally blurts out in his typical gruff voice.

Jaskier blinks. Well, he was certainly not expecting that.

“What? I mean, how in the world did Yennefer find out? I never spoke to anyone about this except Vesemir.”

He notes with awe as Geralt shuffles his feet on the hardwood floors, and for a moment, something akin to fondness wells up in Jaskier’s chest before he tamps it down. This is not the time to feel anything remotely positive towards Geralt Rivia when he’s the source of Jaskier’s misery.

“Hmm, well,” he hears Geralt reply. “She told me she heard it from someone who overheard Vesemir’s assistant talking to Tissaia after you left. So it could be anyone.”

Jaskier is unable to hide a groan of frustration. He runs a hand through his already disheveled chestnut locks as he thinks, Great, they’re definitely going to bring this up at the meeting on Friday. Nosy little witches.

“Yes, well, it’s not happening,” Jaskier says with a shrug. He finds himself taking a step, and another, and another, before he’s walking down the corridor to narrow the distance between him and Geralt. And he doesn’t stop when he reaches the other man’s side. “Vesemir said I can’t go on leave right now, so I’ll still be here until the end of term.”

He hears footsteps behind him, and Jaskier inwardly curses when Geralt picks up the pace to follow him.

Just his luck. And why the fuck now?

“Is everything okay?”

Puzzled at the non-sequitur, Jaskier doesn’t break his stride, but he does look over his shoulder to see the closest thing to concern written over Geralt’s face. A part of Jaskier finds it endearing before he swats that thought away with a scowl.

“Everything’s fucking peachy, Geralt,” he answers waspishly before turning his attention ahead of him. “And why are you following me?”

“I’m not, I’m going to the parking lot,” Geralt says simply. This time, Jaskier detects a hint of amusement in his tone, which only serves to piss him off. “Where did you plan on going, then?”

“None of your business,” Jaskier says through gritted teeth. He thrusts open the double doors and quickly descends the stone steps two at a time.

“What’s gotten into you?” he hears Geralt ask, and that’s it.

They reach the parking lot, but instead of marching over to his blue Volkswagen Beetle, Jaskier whirls around to face Geralt. He distantly notes with satisfaction how the other man quickly takes a step back.

“Nothing has gotten into me,” Jaskier says, aggravated beyond comprehension in that moment. “I just wanted some goddamn space, but apparently that’s really fucking hard to come by these days. So for the love of god, take your curiosity and fake sincerity and leave me the fuck alone.”

Geralt’s brows furrow as he meets Jaskier’s glare with perplexity.

“I… it’s not--” he protests haltingly before he shakes his head and tries again. “I only wanted to know--”

Jaskier swiftly cuts him off.

“Well, you lost that right the day you rejected me,” he spits out. Distantly, he knows he’s being too harsh, but Jaskier can’t bring himself to care right now because nothing in his life makes sense anymore. He misses the flicker of emotion that passes over Geralt’s face, too busy turning around to unlock his car. “Just… just leave me alone, Geralt.”

If Geralt responds, Jaskier doesn’t hear it. He starts the ignition and doesn’t bother to warm up the car. He quickly reverses from his parking space and presses his foot on the gas, wanting to get as far away as he can from the one person his soul is aching to be close to.

~

“Damn, Jask,” Essi says after Jaskier relays to her what happened that night over the phone. “You really tore him a new one, huh?”

“Serves him right,” Jaskier grumbles. He takes another bite of leftover orange chicken as he listens to his friend whistle on the other end. “I know that kind of whistle. That’s your disapproving whistle.”

“Yes, well,” Essi starts. Jaskier frowns, so he pauses the show he’s watching, cutting off Anne mid-tirade as she talks to Gilbert Blythe.

“What is it?”

Essi hesitates for another second before eventually saying, “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him, though?” Before Jaskier can respond, she continues. “Don’t get me wrong. Geralt should’ve seen it coming and I understand where you’re coming from, Jask. But I don’t know, something doesn’t add up to the confrontation. Like, I feel like your reaction wasn’t justified enough?”

Jaskier sighs.

“What do you want me to say, Essi? He was being nosy and I didn’t like it. We barely exchanged a word in three years and of all the occasions, he chooses now to do so? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either.”

Essi is silent for a while.

“Something’s up with you, Jask.”

Jaskier is lucky that they’re not talking over FaceTime because he would’ve been caught in that moment.

“Nothing’s up with me,” he says with an eye roll. He knows Essi doesn’t believe him, so he adds, “I swear, Essi. I just want a break, and I think not seeing Geralt’s face for a year is the first step.”

~

Weeks pass, and spring slowly introduces itself in hues of green and yellow. Jaskier is able to breathe a little easier when he notices the distinct lack of one Geralt Rivia. Sure, they still see each other during faculty meetings, but that’s a given. Outside of that weekly assembly, Jaskier doesn’t see neither hide nor hair of the silver-haired Adonis. A part of him sighs in relief because at least his one wish was granted. But another part of him, the bigger part, can’t help but feel melancholy at no longer seeing or bumping into his soulmate.

After all, it’s for Jaskier’s benefit that it has to be this way until the end of term. Less than three months to go and he can finally go on sabbatical. He doesn’t know where he’s going yet, but Jaskier finds the idea of starting in New Zealand to visit Hobbiton very appealing.

He’s going to miss his students, of course. He’s going to miss Essi and Priscilla, and the other faculty members he’s gotten close to over the years. He’s obviously going to miss Mister Fuzzball, his orange tabby purring and constantly requesting for cuddles and treats. He hates to admit it, even to himself, but Jaskier knows he’s going to miss Geralt. Fuck, he misses the man right this moment, and the idea of not seeing his soulmate for a year makes him feel… antsy.

“No, we’re doing this,” Jaskier shakes his head. Mister Fuzzball meows and he looks down to see his cat playfully nipping at his fingers. Jaskier chuckles and cuddles Mister Fuzzball closer to his chest. “You’re right, Mister Fuzzball. This is for the best. Distance is what will heal this rejected bond, that’s for certain. What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

Mister Fuzzball meows and boops his nose to Jaskier’s chin.

Yes. Easier said than done.

~

It all comes to a head in late May.

Finals week is looming closer so Jaskier and the rest of the faculty at Redania University are working overtime. After a tiring week of preparing exams and preparing his handover to the Literature Department before he goes on sabbatical, Jaskier elects to pamper himself once the weekend rolls around.

He wakes up after eleven on a Saturday morning and decides to have brunch at his favorite pub. He calls Essi, who agrees to meet him at Rosemary & Thyme in half an hour, before he gets up from bed and starts getting ready for a relaxing day outside. Maybe he’ll try and coax Essi to go shopping with him. Retail therapy has worked wonders on his mental state before.

But Jaskier never managed to do any of those things.

Instead of taking his car, he elects to take the subway instead because finding a parking space is always a pain in the arse on the weekend. Jaskier is only a few blocks away from reaching Rosemary & Thyme when he hears the commotion before he sees it.

Several vehicles’s horns start blaring while people from the sidewalks shout in alarm. Jaskier turns at the noise, and he feels his heart leap to his throat when he sees a small blonde girl running to the middle of the road to pick up a round, furry stuffed toy she likely dropped.

“Ciri!”

The voice who yells the child’s name is somewhat familiar, but Jaskier ignores it for the moment because a child is in danger. He doesn’t know how it happens or why, but something clicks in Jaskier that makes him act on instinct. He pushes past the other onlookers staring in horror and sprints to the middle of the busy street.

The small blonde girl -- Ciri -- can’t be more than five years old. She has the furry toy clutched to her chest when Jaskier reaches her side. From his peripheral vision, he glimpses a cab approaching them, and the next several seconds happen in slow-motion.

The cab’s brakes screech as the driver spots them a little too late.

The blonde girl’s emerald eyes lock on Jaskier, a look of awe and confusion on her freckled gaze.

Around them, several bystanders are either frozen on the spot or shouting in alarm.

Geralt stands at the curb with Yennefer and a few other burly men, a look of undisguised terror on his handsome face.

It feels like a lifetime and not, and without giving it much thought, Jaskier finds himself lifting the blonde girl and tossing her in the arms of the one cyclist who had the presence of mind to block the other cars who managed to brake on time.

Except for one.

One second, he has both feet on the ground, and the next Jaskier finds himself on his back on the concrete floor. He feels something sticky trickle down his face, and when he tries to speak, he ends up coughing on the metallic taste of blood.

Oh. So he got hit by the cab, then.

A cacophony of noise permeates through his muddled senses. Sirens and screams and several pairs of feet thudding closer and closer. Jaskier tries to blink but his vision is blurring.

“Jaskier, Jaskier,” the familiar voice says, sounding panicked and choked to his ears. Do they know him? “Jaskier, oh fuck. Hold on, Jaskier. Help’s on the way.”

“Eskel, take Ciri from the cyclist,” another familiar voice filters through. “Geralt, don’t move him. We don’t know what injuries he’s sustained.”

“What injuries-?!” an unfamiliar growly voice interrupts. “He got hit by a fucking car! He’s definitely broken some bones.”

“Lambert, be useful and call a fucking ambulance,” the familiar voice growls back. There’s a gurgling sound before the familiar voice, Geralt, speaks up. “Ssh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“Ngh,” Jaskier slurs. He tries to keep his eyes open but it’s becoming more difficult by the second. “G’rlt.”

“Keep your eyes on me,” the voice repeats, and they sound choked with emotion. “Jask, stay with me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please stay with me.”

It’s the last thing Jaskier hears before he loses consciousness.

~

2 weeks later

“You wonder what he’s thinking when he shivers like that. What can you tell me? What could you possibly tell me? Sure, it’s good to feel things, and if it hurts, we’re doing it to ourselves--”

Someone knocks on the door before it opens, and Jaskier looks up to see the nurse, Jackie, standing on the threshold. Essi, who’s been reading to him his favorite poems for the past hour, stops to look up as well.

Jackie smiles at them before she addresses Jaskier, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but you have another visitor, Jaskier.”

A glance at the clock nailed to the wall in front of him alerts Jaskier that it’s already past three o’clock.

“Shit,” Essi curses beside him, clearly taking note of the time as well. “Sorry, Jask. I lost track of the time. I need to go.”

She looks down apologetically at Jaskier, who shakes his head in understanding and smiles warmly at her.

“Not at all, Essi,” he says, voice still a bit hoarse. “Thank you for visiting me again. I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Essi pockets her phone and slings her messenger bag across her shoulders before leaning down to brush a hand through Jaskier’s unwashed hair and planting a soft kiss on his bandaged forehead.

“Don’t apologize, silly,” she admonishes slightly once she straightens. She smiles crookedly at Jaskier and brushes her fingers on his face, lightly tracing the faint bruises on his cheek. “I’ll drop by again tomorrow before my afternoon lecture. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No, I’m good. But please feed Mister Fuzzball, and cuddle him for me, won’t you?”

Essi rolls her eyes good-naturedly but nods her head. “Of course, Jask. I got Mister Fuzzies under control.”

“It’s Mister Fuzzball!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love you. Take it easy and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

It’s Jaskier’s turn to roll his eyes, but he carefully waves his bandaged wrist at his best friend’s departing figure.

“Love you too. See you later, Daven.”

When Essi disappears around the corner, less than thirty seconds pass before Jaskier’s next visitors come in.

“Jaskier! You’re awake!” a small, blonde girl greets as she dashes inside the room. She stops at the very last second when she reaches Jaskier’s side, careful with his injuries as she climbs up the bed to plant a sloppy but very welcome kiss on his bruised cheek.

“Of course I’m awake, darling,” Jaskier answers with a dimpled grin as he playfully boops Ciri’s nose, causing the child to giggle. “I would never pass up the chance to miss your visit.”

“How are you? Did you finish watching Frozen yesterday? You fell asleep and Papa said I shouldn’t disturb you.”

“I’m feeling better now that you’re here. And no, I didn’t finish Frozen yesterday but I already watched it before so it’s okay. What movie do you want to watch next, hm?”

Jaskier chuckles as he listens to Ciri prattle on for the next few minutes about her favorite scenes in Frozen and how she wants to watch an old Disney film called The Emperor’s New Groove. Jaskier looks up to see the second visitor who silently trailed after the energetic child, making sure to shut the door behind him to give them privacy.

Geralt is already seated on the chair Essi just vacated, the silver-haired man looking at Ciri and Jaskier with undisguised fondness. If someone told Jaskier that he would be the object of Geralt Rivia’s shameless googly eyes, he would tell them where to shove it. But as it is, since his unfortunate accident two weeks ago, it’s like the man did a 180-degree. It’s probably mean of Jaskier to think it, but he can’t help it. If he hadn’t saved Geralt’s daughter, they likely wouldn’t be in this situation.

But Jaskier won’t have it any other way. Daughter or not, Jaskier doesn’t regret saving Ciri. Not at all. He may only know the child for less than a month, but he already loves her like his own, and that notion should terrify Jaskier. It really should, but for some unfathomable reason, it feels completely natural. As easy as breathing.

Although he and Geralt still have so much to talk about - goodness, there’s so much baggage between them that needs to be unpacked and addressed - Jaskier finds that he doesn’t mind spending this time getting to know his soulmate’s family. Aside from Ciri, he’s already met Lambert and Eskel, Geralt’s foster brothers who also drop in to visit him a few times a week. Jaskier likes them, likes their crude sense of humor and enjoys their company even when he doesn’t feel like chatting.

Then there’s Vesemir, who happens to be Geralt’s uncle or whatever, and isn’t that a fucking shock? Jaskier initially didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused when the president of the university he works at visited him to wish him a speedy recovery. In the end, Jaskier takes it in stride and thanks the old man for his well wishes.

How has this become his life now? Will wonders never cease?

“- and Uncle Lambert said I should watch Monsters, Inc. next after The Emperor’s New Groove because he said I remind him of Boo,” Ciri continues to chatter, the adorable five-year-old making herself at home by Jaskier’s uninjured side.

Jaskier listens to her attentively, while looking up every now and then at Geralt, the Anthropology professor currently balancing his laptop on his knees as he slowly types.

It’s the sixth, or probably seventh, time that Jaskier looks up when he meets Geralt’s golden eyes already trained on him. There’s that familiar jolt that runs down his spine when their gazes meet, and Jaskier raises a brow at him.

Geralt’s lips quirk upwards into a semblance of a smile, and Jaskier feels his heart stutter against his chest when his soulmate quietly mouths, “Hi.”

Jaskier tries to fight off a smile but fails rather dismally.

“Hi,” he mouths back before shifting his attention back to Ciri, who’s now chattering about her morning at the daycare.

All at once, it feels like the end and beginning of something new.

~

“Gods, I miss playing my lute,” Jaskier grumbles to himself a few nights later.

Ciri is fast asleep beside him, the adorable child already drooling on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind it in the least bit. They watched two movies and had dinner plus dessert, so Jaskier feels a little spoiled.

“Your what now?” Geralt asks, and Jaskier nearly jolts Ciri awake, almost forgetting that there’s another occupant in the room.

He recovers quickly and leans back against the fluffy pillows.

“My lute,” he repeats. At Geralt’s blank stare, Jaskier huffs out a laugh and continues. “It’s a medieval instrument that bards used to play. I learned to play it back in uni - I minored in Music, by the way - and I just… I just love it. And I miss playing it.”

“Oh,” Geralt says after a while. “I never knew you played.”

If Jaskier’s smile comes off a little bitter, Geralt thankfully doesn’t mention it.

“We both don’t know a lot about each other, I’m afraid,” he says.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier snorts. “Well, except for that.”

Geralt doesn’t say anything after that, so they spend the next several minutes in silence. It’s comfortable, for a change, and Jaskier doesn’t mind breaking the quiet with inane chatter. While he enjoyed watching children’s movies with Ciri, he’s easily exhausted, still in the midst of recuperating from his extensive list of injuries. A major head concussion is no joke, but at least Jaskier can sleep peacefully these days.

He’s staring aimlessly at the ceiling and thinking about what he’ll do first when he’s eventually discharged when he hears Geralt clear his throat.

“I was afraid,” Geralt starts when Jaskier turns his head to meet the older man’s eyes. At Jaskier’s puzzled frown, Geralt clears his throat again and explains. “That day, when you told me we were soulmates… I panicked.”

Oh, so they’re finally going to talk about it now. While his soulmate’s daughter is lightly snoring and drooling on Jaskier?

Okay, then.

“That’s some way to panic,” Jaskier teases, but it falls a little flat. He notices Geralt wince, and Jaskier inwardly curses himself because it’s not the time to make jokes right now. “I’m sorry,” he quickly adds. “I didn’t mean it like that. Please continue, I won’t interrupt.”

Geralt blinks, looking surprised. Jaskier smiles at him and decides to wait patiently for him to speak. It doesn’t take long.

“I don’t have a good track record when it comes to relationships,” Geralt begins, his voice quiet and gruff so as not to wake his daughter. He’s not meeting Jaskier’s gaze. Instead, it’s trained on Jaskier’s fingers that’s carefully playing with Ciri’s blonde curls. “Ask my brothers, ask Yennefer, and they’ll gladly tell you of my failed relationships. Don’t know why, but I was more prone to burning bridges than maintaining them.”

Jaskier feels his heart break, and it takes every ounce in him to not reach out to take Geralt’s hand in his because he’s afraid the other man won’t welcome his touch. So Jaskier bites his cheek and keeps silent, and keeps his hands to himself. He continues to wait in silence, willing to be patient for Geralt because it’s clear to see now that his soulmate is struggling with his words.

And he knows better now, too, that Geralt needs this moment to unpack everything that’s been left unsaid between them all these years.

“When Ciri was born, I felt like I finally had purpose,” Geralt continues. “Her mother didn’t want anything to do with her, so Fiona left her in my care and never looked back. I was fine with it, didn’t mind taking on the responsibility of caring for Ciri. She’s my kid, after all, and it’s an honor to raise her. I thought, since I hadn’t met my soulmate at the time, that everything would be fine. And it was fine for a couple of years. Then I met you.”

At this, Geralt finally looks up from studying Jaskier’s deft fingers to meet his cornflower blue eyes. There’s that oh-so familiar jolt, and for the first time in three years, Jaskier allows himself to bask in the remarkable feeling.

“Then you met me,” Jaskier repeats with a small, sad smile. “And I went and made a fool of myself.”

Geralt emphatically shakes his head.

“No, you didn’t,” he says firmly. “I was an idiot.”

“No, I was the idiot.”

“Let’s agree to disagree, then.”

“In retrospect, I probably made things difficult for you,” Jaskier says with a half-shrug. “So I’m really sorry, Geralt. I think I was pretty tactless with my approach.”

Geralt smiles ruefully at him. “My reaction is what caused us to have a falling out.”

Jaskier opens his mouth then closes it with a thoughtful hum.

“I suppose,” he says, then he glances up from studying Ciri’s peaceful face to look at Geralt with a slight tilt of his head. “Why did you react that way, though? I thought… well, I thought you hated me. Hated the concept of soulmates.”

“I could never hate you,” Geralt cuts him off with a sincere look.

Jaskier gapes at him for a few seconds.

“I, well. You said--”

Geralt swiftly interrupts him once again.

“I remember,” he discloses with a grimace. “I’m not proud of it. I was selfish, Jaskier, and I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” Jaskier says with a patient smile. “You’re sorry, but for what? Telling me the truth? Rejecting me?”

His voice trails off when Geralt shakes his head.

“No, no. None of that.” At Jaskier’s puzzled frown, Geralt sighs and rubs the back of his head. “When I met you, I was terrified at how you made me feel. I felt… wrong-footed, I think? And when you told me we were soulmates, it just made the whole thing more… threatening.”

“Threatening how?”

“Ciri is my number one priority. Sure, she has Vesemir and her uncles, and Yennefer, but I’m her dad. My purpose, my… everything I do is for her, Jask, and you have to understand. Please understand, that when you told me we were soulmates, it felt like everything I worked so hard for would come crashing down. Because here was another person who… matters to me more than I could understand at the time. I was… scared… that if I acknowledged our bond, and accepted you, that it would make Ciri feel like I wasn’t prioritizing her. That she was no longer my number one.”

“Because then you’d have to focus all your time and energy on me,” Jaskier finishes, finally understanding where Geralt is coming from. “And on us. Because it takes a couple of months to solidify the bond.”

“Yes.”

Geralt nods, and he looks like there’s a huge weight that’s lifted from his shoulders. Like he’s been carrying this weight for the past three years or so.

Jaskier breathes in and slowly exhales through his nose. He, too, feels like there’s a huge weight that’s been lifted off his chest. Like he and Geralt are finally on the same page.

Well, almost.

“Geralt, I want you to listen to me closely because I’m going to say this once.”

Geralt nods, golden eyes intense as he waits for Jaskier to continue. This time, Jaskier takes a chance and reaches for his soulmates clasped hands. To his immense surprise, Geralt’s fingers curl around his, as if they’ve been doing it for years instead of for the first time.

“I will never fight for your attention, because Ciri will always be your number one. I’m confident in saying that because, believe it or not, I absolutely adore your daughter to bits.” They exchange smiles at that, each turning to look at Ciri sleeping peacefully between them. Jaskier clears his throat and continues. “I’m sorry that you felt like you had to choose between us. If that was the impression I gave you, then I beg for your forgiveness because it honestly wasn’t. I promise you, Geralt. I promise you that Ciri will also be my top priority.” He shakes his head when Geralt is about to open his mouth. “No. If we’re doing this, Geralt, then I want to be involved. I want to be a part of Ciri’s life, not just yours.”

“I can’t ask you of this, Jaskier,” Geralt professes.

“I know you’re not asking,” Jaskier says with a good-natured eye roll. “That’s why I’m offering, silly.”

Something in Geralt breaks because his shoulders sag. He stares unbelievably softly at Jaskier, golden eyes tender with emotion.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, awe in his tone.

Thinking that he literally has nothing left to lose, Jaskier moves his hand from grasping Geralt’s to cupping his cheek. He feels his soulmate lean into his touch, and Jaskier knows right then and there that they’re going to be alright.

“We both have baggage,” Jaskier tells him once their gazes lock once more. “And we still have so much to talk about. But I’m in this for the long haul, Geralt. You’re my other half, and I’m yours.”

“I’m yours,” Geralt repeats, and he sounds like he’s starting to believe it.

When he leans over to press soft, dry lips to Jaskier’s slightly chapped ones, Jaskier lets himself believe it, too.

They’re going to be alright.

[karahalloway]

6, 10, 12, 31, 42, 49 for writer's asks

Hi Anon!

Thanks so much for the asks! I'm always happy to talk about my writing 😊

I presume you are also a writer (based on the questions you picked, you seem interested more in my writing process), so I tried to answer in a way that hopefully helps you as a fellow scribbler!

So, in response to your questions:

6. how did writing change you?

I'm not sure that writing has changed me per se... But I know I am much happier and more balanced on a personal level since I've started writing again (I did a lot of writing in my last year or two of high school, but then I went off to uni, got a job, got married, had a child, etc. and I didn't have time / interest / headspace to do any writing for over 10 years). Apparently there are words inside me that want to escape 😋

10. how do you do your researches?

On the fly! 😅 I am 100% a seat-of-my-pants writer (i.e. I do little to no planning before I get down to it). If an idea pops into my head, or my characters pull me in a certain direction, then I just go with the flow. That said, I try to make every conversation and situation as realistic as possible, so if something comes up in the process of writing a conversation or a scene that requires some research, then I quickly hop onto Google (e.g. to determine flight times btwn locations, fact-check some bit of info that I want to include, etc.).

There have also been a few situations where I've asked people I know (99% of the time my husband 😅) for help / clarification on topics that are just way out of my area of expertise (i.e. cars, weapons, self-defence, that 'male' kind of stuff).

12. favorite place to write

Depends what mood I'm in, but either at my desk, or on the sofa (we have an AMAZING sofa in our upstairs lounge that provides a perfect view of the river and the valley outside of the city where we live, and I love looking at that when I'm musing about a scene).

Our animals like this window too 😁:

31. easiest part of writing

Dialogue. Which is funny, because I originally started writing fanfiction in an effort to practice writing dialogue (as I used to really suck at it). But practice makes perfect, eh?

42. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

A little bit of both. Like I said above, I'm a pantster, so at most, I'll have a general idea of what I want to include in a chapter. I am very much led by my characters (Harper and Drake totally write themselves when they're together!). But it has happened (more than a few times actually!) that a scene popped almost fully formed into my head and would not leave me alone until I wrote it down (I still ended up tweaking it, but ultimately, very little planning).

49. writing advice

Read. A LOT! I was a voracious bookworm throughout middle school, high school and university. I don't have as much to read now as I would like (too busy writing! 😅) but the more you read, the more of a vocabulary bank you build up in your sub-conscious, and the more styles of writing you are exposed to (my writing is very much influenced by the authors I've read) the more you can play around with your own writing style.

Apart from that, WRITE! As I said above, I've been dabbling with writing since high school. I started off in the romance / fantasy genre (as at the time I was very into those two genres), and looking back at my writing then in comparison to how I write now, there is a world of difference. Part of this is down to writing experience (it's definitely one of those things that improves with practice), and part of it is down to real life experience - I certainly look at the world differently than I did 10 years ago, and I think that shows in my writing as well.

Oh and I should probably add that I re-read my stuff A LOT. Not necessarily because I’m vain (though I do have a few favour chapters that I like to revisit 😅) but to make sure that everything is consistent from a plot, characterisation and flow perspective, as well as to catch little typos. And when I read, I don’t read as the writer, I read as a reader, letting the story carry me to put myself in the shoes of someone reading for the first time so I can ask myself ‘Does this name sense?’ ‘Is this realistic?’ ‘Was that actually funny?’

I hope that answered your questions!

If anyone else is dying to know more about me as a writer, feel free to ask away! List of writer asks available here.

[nade2308]

2020 fic year in review

2020 fic year in review

I was tagged by @silentauroriamthereal. Thank you for the tag!!!

Total number of completed stories: 63 stories posted + 1 finished and in the editing process. Had to go back and count them all.

Total word count: 323 642 words on all the posted stories for this year, and additional 78.2k words on the fic that's finished, but not posted yet.

Fandoms written in: 911 Lone Star, Hawaii Five 0, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and MacGyver (2016)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Definitely more than I expected. I started with a one shot for 911 Lone Star, then wrote a few fics for my bestie as comfort fics and finally I posted my H50 AU. I never thought I'd join another fandom but I did and I haven't regretted it. I took a part in Whumptober and just finished my NaNoWriMo story so there's that. It has been a whirlwind year for sure, and definely wrote more than I expected.

What’s your own favourite story of the year?

I don't want to be picking a story over others, but I do have several I'm very fond of and among those are: Ho'omau, Coming home, Life finds a way, Debts + Bargains, On the rocks, and I'll be watching you, as well as my recently finished NaNoWriMo story that is possibly the one I'm holding the most dear to my heart because of the topic and the time I spent researching and writing on it.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

Yes! In my up coming fic, I am writing about the topic of rape, and the rape afrermath. It was possibly the biggest and the most important topic I have tackled in fic this year.

All of my writing forays into the dark topics and the rape/non-con spectrum have been attempts of rape on my characters, or just touching and implications of it. But I wrote about the completed circuit of what happens right after as well as the aftermath long term. I approached this topic very carefully and I am very proud of how I handled it. I tried to be as considerate as possible and I didn't take it lightly.

I have one more (posted) story with rape/non-con elements as well as several others with the implied bit in them. It was definitely a challenge to write about that, but I think I did it justice. So that's pretty much about risks in my writing this year.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

Nothing that hasn't already been my goal so far. Write as much as I can, zero pressure, and to enjoy writing when it happens. It happens that I'm now dabbling in several fandoms, but atm I'm writing solely MacGyver fics, so the goal could be to write as many of the ideas I had over the better part of this year, but I didn't get to write.

Most popular story of the year?

In 2020, according to the hits, subscriptions and comment threads and word count it's Ho'omau, and Gotta find your own way with kudos as well as bookmarks.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I don't know??? I think all my stories get appreciated in a way, and I don't think any of them should be appreciated more or less. It's a good balance where I let everyone read and take whatever they want from my fics and make do with that. Love all my fics regardless.

Most fun story to write: Oh... This is a tough one. I absolutely had a blast writing each and every story this year... Hmmm maybe Coming home? And my NaNoWriMo story. Not fun for the boys per se, but the whole process...

Most unintentionally telling story:

I think it's my NaNoWriMo story. There are several things that I definitely did nof plan or thought of including and they just came together, and I rolled with them. It tells such a story... No wonder it's my characters controlling me in stead of the other way around.

Biggest disappointment: Weirdly enough, there wasn't any disappointments this year, writing wise.

Biggest surprise: Coming up with the idea for the NaNoWriMo story. I remember talking with @thethistlegirl about it and how we took it to the next level with the brainstorming and our love and passion for it, wanting to see it happen. And coming to life, it has been a moment and after moment of revelations and small surprises. Definitely not expecting it to have so many things come together in a whole and such word count but here we are.

All in all, despite what happened this year and is currently happening, I am very happy and satisfied with how this year turned out writing wise for me. Thanks for sticking with me on it.

I tag: @thethistlegirl @sabbystarlight @82tweeder @commanderbunnbunn @impossiblepluto @panchostokes @erinsworld @thesammykinz @dont-stop-believin-in-klaine @telltaleclerk @orianess @nevcolleil @dixons-mama @kerkerian @catwingsathena @flowingriver24 @nativestarwrites @altschmerzes @the-itzy-bitzy-spider @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @dickgrysvn

[purplesurveys]

1254

Of the many different American accents, which one is your favorite? I don’t really have one. Aside from the few ones that sound pretty distinct, like country accents or the New York accent, nearly all of them sound the same to me.

What was the last thing you watched on Youtube? CM Punk’s comeback promo. That’s something that’s been on repeat throughout the day for sure...I still can’t believe he’s back; I had long accepted that he was done with wrestling so this is definitely a memory for the books :’)

Are your kitchen windows open right now? I don’t think we ever open ours.

What was your favorite job you've ever had? I’ve only had one job so I can’t pick favorites, but so far I am having a blast at my current one.

Do you know anyone who had a kid before they were financially stable? I really don’t want to assume but if I had to guess, my high school classmates who had kids either straight out of high school or in the middle of college. All of them are still sustained by their parents, based on their posts.

What's your phone's wallpaper picture? My lockscreen is V; my home screen are all the boys huddled for a group pic.

When was the last time you saw the person you had your first kiss with? November last year, and I really can’t imagine a situation where we’ll have to be in the same room once more. Of course, I’m sure there would be high school reunions down the line but she’s never been the type to show up for occasions such as those.

Have you read any of Shakespeare's works other than Romeo and Juliet? Yeah, we had to read three more works of his in high school. We were prohibited from relying on the No Fear versions, but I never wanted to spend my time having to decode Shakesperean writing so I just smuggled in my No Fear copies during English class.

Is there anything hanging from the doorknob in your room? Yeah.

Why did you move to where you're living now? Because living with 11 people in a duplex meant for 5 was starting to be too much for my mom. And because it was damn near impossible living with alcoholics and smokers who would also sometimes get violent.

Have you ever kissed someone 3+ years younger than you? I haven’t.

Do you clean your house all at once, or a little bit at a time? My mom is in charge of cleaning and she’s the type who doesn’t care even if you’re only trying to help – she wants things done her way, so she’s been more than alright shouldering every aspect of the house’s cleanliness.

What's your opinion on wearing pajamas in public? Do you yourself do that? I’ve seen people do that and it actually looks pretty fashionable if they’re able to pull it off. But in general, I don’t really care what people want to wear; I’m more particular about other things, like their scent lol. To answer the second question, no I don’t wear PJs out in public. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up? Taking away my laptop and internet privileges and indirectly helping me fail several classes that required me to do research.

Have you ever been to California? No.

If so, when was the last time you were there? Never.

About how many times per month do you eat dinner at a restaurant? Back in college I used to go once, twice a week. I obviously haven’t been able to do this for the last year and a half.

Do you think dreams actually mean anything? Why/why not? I think it can sometimes be a reflection of emotions we’re currently feeling – like how I tend to get nightmares when I’m in a period of depression. It’s not always like that, though, and sometimes my dreams just bunch a random cast of people and dump them in a random scenario for a completely nonsense dream.

What's something you're really bad at compared to others? Creativity.

Do you know anyone who treats retail/restaurant employees poorly? My parents could.

Are most of the books you own hardcover or paperback? I think it’s a healthy balance of both. When was the last time someone betrayed your trust? What happened? Mmmh, I think just that whole period when the breakup took place. My ex had done a full 180 and suddenly wanted nothing to do with me. It was confusing and overall extremely hurtful. How much was gas the last time you filled your car up?  I don’t pay attention, honestly. I already have a preset amount in mind whenever I drop by the gas station and just see how much it would fill my car.

Do you usually fill up at the same gas station?  I have a go-to brand but they have hundreds of branches around the metro, so it’s usual for me to gas up in different cities.

What was the topic of conversation the last time you spoke to a sibling? Nina’s the one handling the photocard trade I mentioned in a past survey since she’s done deliveries and shipping in the past, so I just asked about the status of our booking.

Are you currently looking for a new job?  No, I love mine.

How many times did you move when you were growing up?  3-4? I’m not really sure how many times exactly since my parents had also moved when I was a baby.

Who is the person you are the closest to? (emotionally, not physically)? Angela.

What are some odd habits you have relating to food/eating?  I consume condiments like soup/broth hahaha. If a dish has mayonnaise or ketchup, I mix in a generous amount of mayonnaise or ketchup with my rice. Another habit would be peeling off all the batter from my fried chicken and setting it aside so I can have it as the last part of my meal.

Are any of your relatives musicians?  They’re not musicians per se but a good number are exceptionally skilled at the piano. Still baffles me how I didn’t get to inherit that trait :(

Have you ever been in fear for your life?  Yeah, I always feel unsafe when I have to walk in very public sidewalks.

What was the last caffeinated drink you had? Do you drink this often?  3-in-1 coffee, my go-to type of coffee lol. Yeah, I have it nearly everyday.

Have you ever read any books by John Steinbeck?  No.

When was the last time you painted a room in your house?  I’ve never painted a room.

How has your day been so far?  Pretty uneventful but I’m happy I got to relax and lie in bed a lot. I’m not feeling too anxious for Monday tomorrow since my workplace is having another mental health break day on Friday, so I only have to work four days this week yay :) Then next Monday is a holiday so I’ll be getting a four day weekend!!

[cowgrl]

Bonfire and pumpkin 🤔💖

ahh hello m! hope you’re doing well 💙

bonfire - describe your dream house.

i actually answered this one here BUT for some reason, i started looking at these playhouses for affluent white children and i would probably move into one if i had $7,000 to blow 💀

pumpkin - do you think that humans are inherently good or bad?

maria, i think you’re an undercover journalist. you threw me a softball about 💞dream houses uwu��� and then hit me with a deep, philosophical question that’s been debated for a million years lol

if you forced me to pick strictly one or the other i would say good. but if i can go with a third option, i think that humans are most likely inherently neutral. i’m also a big ‘nurture over nature’ person. socialization plays such a HUGE role in the development of your personality and your behavior and what you consider socially acceptable. 

there are some cultural universals that we all inherently share - community/family, language, belief/value systems, formal and informal norms, art etc. but clearly, even the way we define those varies GREATLY around the world. i don’t think anyone can definitively say that humans are inherently good or bad because we all bring our own biases into it. 

not to get “good and bad is a social construct!” on main, but yeah. your definition of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ isn’t necessarily my ‘good’ and ‘bad’. your background - family, peers, religion, economic standing, social status, culture, ethnicity, education, mental and physical health, career, and more determine how you view and interact with the world. 

obviously, there’s a discussion to be had about biology/genetics, psychopathy and anti-social personality types but even that doesn’t make you inherently bad, per se. i definitely don’t have the research, knowledge, or phd to get into that so i won’t but it’s a factor to consider. and this is all from a semi-sociological standpoint! there are so many other ways to approach this question. e.g. the religious viewpoints of the conscience and predestination/fate could change how you look at the inherent nature of humans. 

i didn’t want to look at what other people have said on this topic because i wanted to give you an honest, unbiased answer but i still have my own biases that play a role in how i’m answering this whether i like it or not so 🙃 is there really such a thing as truly unbiased??? (also LOVE referring to aristotle, hobbes, etc as just ‘other people’. very casual and cool of me. y’know, just that dude freud or whatever.)

the optimistic romantic in me wants to say that ✨deep down everybody wants to be good and do good✨ but sadly, that’s not really logical. and besides, i love the topic of socialization way too much to ever say people can be summed up in broad, black and white terms.

thank you for the ask!!! i’ve been annoying my family with the armchair sociology for a while now but i haven’t had the opportunity to bust out my skillz [pls i don’t actually know ANYTHING do NOT listen to me tysm <3] online >:-)

🍂 send me autumnal asks 🍂

[mojofun]

Where my heart lies (Loki x OC) - Chapter 2

While he is wreaking havoc, Loki runs into a woman that catches his eye, so he takes her with him. She doesn’t seem to mind at all. Will he let her see the darkest side of him though?

Hello :)

This is the second chapter of the story. Hope you guys enjoy

I’m tagging @mrsbellablythe​ :)

Weeks passed, or was it months?

Hayley had lost count.

Being trapped in Loki’s hideout, guarded by strange and frightening aliens under his command was taking a toll on her more and more: each day dragged on and on without any change, and she always did the same things, trapped in the same four walls all the time.

What hurt the most, though, was waking up in bed alone after spending the night with him. Every time she knew it wasn’t a dream, if the rumpled sheets and his scent lingering in the air were anything to judge by, and yet… The other side of the mattress was cold and empty every single morning by the time she woke up.

It would be useless to try and catch him in the act: he had enough stealth and magic to simply vanish from her embrace if he wished, and that was exactly what he did.

The thought made her heart bleed, and she threw the covers off for what felt like the umpteenth time, reaching for her clothes.

While she got dressed, her mind made the most of the silence and solitude to berate her venomously

Why are you still here? He’s just using you; the fact that he chose you doesn’t make you anything special.

You are being a fool, falling in love with him while he couldn’t care less about you

The brunette cringed, cursing when, in her distraction, she pierced her skin with one of the dress’s clasps.

Yes, she was falling in love with him.

He intrigued her, he fascinated her, but most of all, he made her feel loved.

It was terribly ironic, considering he treated her like a prostitute or a concubine, but every time he held her in his arms and kissed her, she forgot about all the tears that had fallen from her eyes in his name. Her brain shouted every kind of foul insults at her, calling her all kinds of fool, but she ignored every rational thought inside her head.

Was that what addiction felt like? Probably.

One more high would get her through the pain of waiting for the next one.

Yes, that was an addiction.

The first time they’d been together was absolutely perfect: he was gentle, caring and tender, a far cry from what he’d become: he was never violent, but lately… Lately she felt as though he was building a wall around him, trying to usher her out and make her stay away. Hayley knew very well that letting someone else see the darkest sides of oneself was a challenge like no other -perhaps she wasn’t as damaged as Loki, but she’d been broken and beaten enough in her lifetime.

Nevertheless, after sharing such an intimate moment with him, she began to think that what they had was special… After all he let her see his true form without much fuss, and she was entirely sincere when she told him she found it fascinating.

It had all disappeared like a wonderful dream when the morning comes, like he did before she woke up every day.

Now every time they shared a bed -she couldn’t bring herself to call it anything else anymore- he was distant, locked in a dimension so faraway that nothing she did could ever reach him. If she dared to speak to him or touch him tenderly, he would look at her with a glare so haunted and threatening that it frightened into silence.

As soon as he was done, she cried. For him, for her, for whatever was causing them to drift apart… She could feel there was something wrong with him, and it worried her to no end.

She wanted to be close to him, to help him, but he wouldn’t let her… So she employed her time the only way she could: reading books.

It helped her distract herself from the pain, from the wait and everything else that tormented her. Besides, the topics were actually interesting.

Loki didn’t know that Hayley could read runes, not that he cared at that point: he was truly just using her, much to her dismay. The first time she’d picked up a book of his she wondered if he would be cross with her, but not she did not give a damn: it would still be more of a reaction than the catatonic presence he granted her at night and no more.

Heaving a sigh, the brunette pressed her finger on the small injury for a few seconds; when she removed it, the injury was healed.

During her time alone in her prison cell- the luxury only enhanced this feeling- she’d made quite an interesting discovery: she had powers.

It felt incredible, being able to actually convey the spells and charms described in the musty, enormous old tomes that were piled in her glorified manhole.

The brunette had no idea she was capable of that. Was that why Loki had chosen her?

No, it couldn’t be: he would have asked her to use her powers in the name of whatever twisted revenge he was plotting long ago, if that had been the case.

How was it possible that he failed to sense her magic? There had to be something wrong with him, something very, very wrong…

Of course she was worried, she loved him. And yet…

After undergoing so much pain for so long, she had no strength left to do something about it: caring per se was becoming a titanic effort, since their relationship was clearly one-way.

Perhaps he didn’t trust her; perhaps he thought her affection was circumstantial and false. Wasn’t he supposed to be the god of lies and deceit?

Once more, Hayley had to fight against the anguish of knowing that he was in pain. The frustration stemming from her powerlessness was atrocious, but there was not much she could do: he was not letting her in, no matter how much she begged and pleaded.

Maybe one day she would be strong enough to confront him. That idea motivated her to sharpen her skills.

Hayley was not stupid; far from it, actually.

She took care to master first of all the spells that would help her conceal her newfound abilities, like silencing charms and the creation of clones. Thus, she was able to pore over volume after volume of magic tricks and try them out without her guardians catching her red-handed- who knew what they would do to her if they found out. Yes, Loki was supposed to be in charge of them, but for some reason it didn’t feel like that.

Sighing, the brown-haired girl picked a well-read tome from the closest shelf and plonked herself down on the bed, opening it at the page she’d reached the previous day. Skimming the yellowish paper with her finger, she began to read out loud

<<The darkness allows us to see,

and yet to see,

you have to fight the darkness itself.

Take strength from pain,

convey it in your veins,

let it become one with yourself>>

It was absolutely wonderful; Hayley always loved poetry, and those books were making her discover wonderful stanzas. Even better, the spell gave her the necessary power to release an actual flame from her hand, much brighter and warmer than the one she’d produced last time.

The smile on her face shone almost as bright as the fire on her fingers; she was really getting the hang of it

<<Maybe I can try again… Let’s see…>>

The girl flipped the page to find the opposite spell to the one she’d just cast. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to recite it

<<One without the other is no more,

in equilibrium, there is war

the key is learning to walk the line.

So when flames destroy, pray for ice,

and when ice kills, pay the price

for fire, the horizon’s a rim so fine>>

Once again she felt a surge of power flow right through her. This time, however, the outcome was not fire but ice, as explained by the poem.

Her entire limb grew cold and, when she touched the book again, she spotted crystals of snow on the pages.

The smile on her face somehow got even bigger

 <<One more…>>

After some research, her eyes landed on a spell that intrigued her, so she decided to try her hand with it- literally

<<Every time the world dies

a new era is bestowed by the skies

never be broken, learn to bend.

Like flowing canes in the winds of change

who lie down while the storms rage

and resurrect when they end>>

Hayley got her wish when green vines sprouted from her fingers, twisting around her forearm with grace; a little additional effort gifted her with small white flowers blooming on her skin, and she felt a small tear trickle down her cheek: it was beautiful.

The knowledge that it was her doing amazed her even more.

Finally feeling happy again, she lay her hand on the wall and let the plants colonise her room, bringing some much-needed cheerfulness to the drab cell.

The white flowers even graced her hair, making her giggle and stand up to look in a mirror: she looked pretty like that.

Would Loki notice? Probably not.

Luckily, that thought was not enough to make her sad again.

[jechrealty]

The Case for a 30 Year Mortgage

Disclaimer: I am not a mortgage lender, accountant, or financial advisor. I’m a professional real estate consultant that is passionate about the subject and likes to think outside the box. I, in no way, recommend you make investment or lending decisions based off the content of this writing. It is intended only to open your mind to other possibilities, which I strongly advise discussing with your mortgage, tax and financial professional.

 So you’re shopping for a mortgage. You’ve saved, and researched, and the conventional wisdom says “if you can, get a 15 year mortgage!”

After all, you’ll save thousands in interest via the shorter life of the loan, and you’ll be mortgage free sooner! Plus, interest rates are typically lower for 15 year notes, saving you even more, right?

This advice isn’t necessarily wrong, and, as I often tell my clients, real estate isn’t always black and white. There are many ways to leverage it to your advantage, and this topic is no different. So today, I’m making the case for a 30 year mortgage over its 15 year counterpart. I’ll lay out the reasons I often advise that my clients explore this strategy with their mortgage lenders and financial advisors prior to securing a mortgage loan, along with some real-world examples. I’ll also examine the strategy from the perspective of a typical buyer, as well as a real estate investor.

Let’s dig in. First, let me lay out the typical case FOR the 15 year mortgage, before I examine the alternative:

 Interest Savings

This is the obvious one, and so I’ll start here.

Because interest is paid monthly, for the life of the loan. It stands to reason that when comparing two loans, with the same principal balance and interest rate (more on this in a moment), but with one having half as many payments during its life than the other, the one with the shorter life will net significant interest savings.

For example, let’s say we have two loans with a principal balance of 100K at 3% interest. One is spread over 360 payments (30 years) and the other 180 (15 year). I ran an amortization and below is the summary:

30 Year Note:

Interest paid over life of loan: $51,777

Monthly principal and interest payment: $421

15 Year Note:

Interest paid over life of loan: $24,304

Monthly principal and interest payment: $690

On first examination, you’ll see that with the 15 year note, you are saving $27,473 in interest over the 30 year option, while borrowing the same amount of money, which is excellent. Because you are condensing the principal into a shorter time period, your monthly P&I comes in about $269 higher. Granted, you’re paying off the same principal balance, so this isn’t an added cost per se, but it is a larger monthly obligation (more on that later).

 Lower Interest Rate

Historically, 15 year notes have carried a lower interest rate than their 30 year counterparts. The difference varies, but often this is in the ball park of .5-1%. If we adjusted the interest rate for the 15 year note on the example above to 2.5%, the scenario now looks like this:

15 Year Note:

Interest paid over life of loan: $20,022

Monthly principal and interest payment: $667

Now, you’re saving $31,755 for an increased monthly obligation of only $246 during its repayment period. Nice!

 Shorter Repayment Period

Now I’ll be captain obvious for a moment. 15 years is half as much time as 30 years. Who doesn’t like to be debt free? Aside from saving money, the obvious appeal to a 15 year mortgage is being mortgage free sooner.

OK…. I know what you may be thinking; a 15 year mortgage sounds great – I’m sold! But, wait. Here is where you can get creative. Let’s get to the meat of the topic:

 The Case for a 30 Year Mortgage

 Opportunity Cost

Remember this one from your college finance class? Investopedia defines opportunity cost as “the forgone benefit that would have been derived by an option not chosen.” In the example above, we came to the mathematical conclusion that the 15 year note would save you approximately $31,755 over the loan’s life, with an increased payment obligation of $246 for those 15 years. Imagine you went with the 30 year note and instead invested that $246 monthly at an average rate of return of 7%, which is achievable (remember, the stock market historically averages around 10%). At the end of 15 years, your side investment would be worth approximately $78,000. At this point in your 30 year mortgage, the loan payoff would be approximately $61,000, meaning you could take your investment profits and pay off your 30 year mortgage at year 15, having spent the exact same amount monthly for the past 15 years as the 15 year note, and be left with a profit of $17,000.

Now, of course, I’m generalizing here. There will be some taxes on your investment earnings, reducing that profit some. But, with the right investment, perhaps you achieved a rate of return higher than 7%.

You see where I’m going with this.

You leveraged a 30 year note to achieve a lower total mortgage payment, invested the difference, paid the note off at year 15, and made additional money on your investment, besting the 15 year mortgage by thousands of dollars to your advantage and still becoming mortgage free in the same amount of time. Cool, right?

Yes, this strategy takes discipline, assumes some risk, and is just one simplified example of how you could capitalize on this. Most importantly, it still leaves you with flexibility, should times get tough.

 Payment Flexibility

2020 is a perfect example of why payment flexibility during times of financial stress and uncertainty is worth its weight in gold (or mortgage interest savings). Imagine you bought a house in 2019. Times were good, your job was secure, and the 15 year mortgage seemed like a no brainer for the interest savings over time. Then, the unthinkable happened. Fast forward one year and the COVID-19 pandemic has cost you your job. You picked up new work where you could, but it’s at a fraction of your previous earnings. Suddenly, the last thing on your mind is the potential of savings over decades, or being mortgage free in another 14 years. Your focus is now undoubtedly on paying the mortgage next month, avoiding foreclosure, and keeping a roof over your family’s head. While no one hopes for this situation, it is the sad reality for thousands, if not millions of families affected by the pandemic. That extra $246 a month could be the difference between paying the mortgage at all, or the electric bill, or even groceries and basics, and you might be glad for the lower payment, if you had chosen it.

The 30 year note gives you flexibility to use that money other ways when you need it most. And while we’re on the subject of flexibility, here’s another interesting tidbit to note – if your income recovers and times are better, you can still shorten that 30 year mortgage and save thousands on interest, all without refinancing! How? I’m glad you asked. It’s EASY.

Ever heard of a pre-payment penalty? If you’re a Baby Boomer, or maybe even Generation X, you may have. If you’re a Millennial or Generation Y, you probably haven’t. That’s because they largely don’t exist anymore. A pre-payment penalty is a fee some lenders charge if you pay some or all of mortgage obligation early. It’s supposed to incentivize you to pay the principal back slowly so that the lender doesn’t lose out on collecting all of that glorious interest. The fact that they are largely extinct means you can dial up your principal payments when times are good in order to shorten your mortgage and save on interest.

Bankrate.com has a handy calculator that you can use to see the effect of extra principal payments on your mortgage. You can find it here. Using the example we’ve been referencing throughout this post, if you were to make an extra $100 monthly principal payment, from month one, you would shorten your mortgage loan by 8 years and 2 months and save about $15,000 across the life of the loan. How’s that for flexibility?

 What if you’re an Investor?

So, what if you’re an investor? Well, all the same benefits apply, and there are some additional considerations as well.

Because your tenant is generally covering the debt service, the $246 lower monthly payment for that first 15 years is passed on to you in the form of increased margin. You can do many things with it. Perhaps you could use it to pay down the principal on a higher interest mortgage loan in your portfolio (remember you can shorten your repayment period and save thousands on interest with extra principal payments), or you could invest it, either in financial instruments or additional real estate.

This last point should not be overlooked. If your goal is to continue scaling your real estate portfolio, consider that a 15 year note has a greater impact on your debt-to-income ratio and that lenders may take into account that the cash flow won’t be as strong when considering market rent. Taking this a step further, consider that, in most cases, a 20-25% down payment is required to purchase investment property, and that increased cash-flow may help you acquire more real estate faster, the cumulative effect of which should exceed any interest savings realized by the 15 year note, assuming you make wise selections.

Finally, remember that as an investor, your goal, at a very basic level, is wealth building by having someone else pay the mortgage in exchange for living in the property. If turbulent times were to cause rents to dip significantly, there is always a possibility that rents don’t cover the full debt service (not to mention taxes, insurance, vacancies, etc…) With a 15 year note, there is less margin (literally) for error, at least initially, which can make it higher risk.

 Conclusion

The concepts in this article are simplified and quite condensed, which is intentional. As I was writing, I resisted the urge to spinoff on numerous tangents. Of course there are numerous other factors to consider; tax implications, investment strategy, market conditions, risk tolerance, the list goes on. All in a boundless number of combinations, which is what makes real estate both thrilling and complex.

For many, a 15 year mortgage might be an excellent selection, and I don’t want to downplay its direct benefits, but I hope reading this opened your eyes to the exciting possibilities of real estate and how all is not always as straightforward as it seems.

[swimmingnewsie]

Of Coffee and Cookies (Chapter 4)

Hi guys! It’s your local insomniac back with another chapter! This one is a mix of light fluff and soft angst. Thanks for all your support!

Please enjoy!

Link to Chapter 1 Link to Chapter 2 Link to Chapter 3 Link to AO3 

---

It had been a month since their first walk and coffee. As the time passed, coffee dates became more frequent. Usually Maren would grade her students' assignments while Elsa read through research or graded her own students' papers and assessments. It was nice. Elsa would never admit it, but she liked having someone check in on her throughout the day. Anna was great, but having a real friend-

Well she wasn't exactly sure what to call Maren. They were definitely friends, but she wasn't sure if they were more than that. They went out a lot, but did that mean they were dating? But whatever they were, it was nice.

Elsa had cancelled their study session this afternoon, her monthly cycle rendering her useless to anything other than lying on the couch in pain. And yet, here Maren was cuddling next to her while they watched a sitcom on Netflix. Elsa was sure she was an angel, letting her lie against her and holding the heating pad over her cramping stomach. If she did much more for her, Elsa was pretty sure she would cry.

She must have dozed off at some point for she woke up with a blanket covering them both. Maren was singing softly in her ear, while gentle hands ran through her hair. Her head still ached, but the melody made her feel so safe and secure that her pain melted into the background. Elsa slowly opened her eyes, wanting to see the scene for herself.

"Good morning, snowflake," she said brushing a stray hair away. "Have a good nap?"

The nickname made her blush. It was something new, but something right. Elsa nodded slightly enough for Maren to feel against her chest. "How long was I out for?"

"Not long, maybe an hour. I paused our show."

"Thank you," she mumbled, sleep pulling at her eyes.

"You can go back to sleep," she said softly. "It would probably make you feel better. Your stomach still hurting? I could get you another ibuprofen."

Elsa shook her head. It was rude to sleep while a guest was there, even if she wasn't feeling her best. "Stay with you," she said, words slurred with sleep. "Don't wanna be a bad host."

Maren giggled, making Elsa's heart flutter. Why was she feeling like this from just a simple sound? "You're not a bad host. You can't be a bad host when you're sick."

"Not sick," Elsa mumbled, allowing herself to curl closer into Maren.

"Well you certainly don't feel good." Maren continued to stroke her hair, making loose braids as she spoke. "So go back to sleep and ignore mother nature for a bit. She'll still be there when you're ready to be awake."

Elsa hummed against her. "I'm ready to be awake."

Maren huffed a laugh. "Uh huh."

Elsa gave her own small laugh. "Talk to me. I wanna know what's going on in your world."

"My world, huh? Well I've got the most beautiful girl in the world laying against me." That made Elsa poke at her belly- she wanted to know about other things. "Alright alright. Well there was something I wanted to ask you about." Well that certainly perked her interest.

"My cousin is getting married in a few weeks and I was wondering if you would want to go as my plus one."

"As a date?" Was this her sign? Her way of asking her out?

"It's- it's okay if you don't. I know that we haven't been together long and if meeting my family makes you nervous that's okay. You- you don't have to."

Tears pricked in her eyes. "We're together?"

Maren's eyes went wide. "I thought we were? I thought that first day at the coffee shop was our first date?"

Elsa paled. Oh no, she didn't want Maren to think she wasn't interested. She just didn't know that she thought they were together. "I thought that you just wanted to be friends. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you out. But now I think that might be moot."

Maren blushed, then got that little look in her eyes- the same one she saw in Anna's when she was about to be mischievous. "Well I'd hate for those nerves to go to waste. Would you like to ask me out?"

Elsa felt her heart start racing. "Now? But you- you already thought we were together?"

"But you didn't," she grabbed her hand and squeezed it right. "So let's get on the same page."

Elsa rubbed at her eyes with her free hand, smiling softly. "Will you, Honeymaren, go with me to a movie as soon as I am able to get off the couch without crying in pain?"

"Oh, snowflake, I would happily. Pick the time and the day," she said teasingly bringing their hands to her face. She ran a hand through Elsa's hair again, noticing her eyes were getting heavy again. "Go back to sleep. We can talk about our date later. I'm getting you some ibuprofen."

Elsa nodded, letting herself fall back against the soft pillows. "I wanna go with you," she murmured.

"Go where, Els?" Maren asked, tucking the blanket around her sleepy form.

"To the wedding. I wanna go with you."

Maren grinned. "Then I'll send our RSVP tomorrow."

In her fleeting consciousness, Elsa couldn't help but feel happy. Maren wanted to be with her. Maren wanted her to meet her family. And that was something worth feeling happy about.

---

"Oh who's a good boy? You're a good boy. Yes you are."

Ryder couldn't help but smile as Kristoff talked to the small dog in front of him. Volunteering at the animal shelter was something he had done since he was sixteen. Usually it was something he did alone. Sharing it with Kristoff was something different, but something right.

He was so good with the animals. It didn't shock him per se. The one time he had gone over to Kristoff's apartment, he saw how the man treated his dog. He was kind and gentle, a very different demeanor than what he usually saw at the coffeehouse.

But Ryder couldn't help but feel like he was doing something wrong. He saw the way that his sister blushed and got flustered over her girlfriend. She would talk about how her heart fluttered when she talked to Elsa or how she just wanted to be close to the other girl. Ryder was happy, but he didn't feel those kinds of things. If he thought about it, he never really felt that desire in his whole life.

He was happy with Kristoff. He made him smile. He had a little extra kick in his step when he entered Mermaid's Siren knowing the boy would be there. But why didn't he want to kiss Kristoff or touch him the way his sister wanted Elsa?

Ryder sighed. Maybe he was just a really late bloomer. He wanted those feelings, but they just weren't there.

Suddenly he felt a hand run through his messy hair. "Why so glum? We're in dog paradise." Kristoff smiled at him, going to sit next to him.

Ryder shook his head. "Just thinking, that's all."

Kristoff nodded with that knowing look. "Is it something that can be helped by Miss Samantha here?" In his arms was a border collie puppy, cuddling close.

Ryder smiled. "Anything can be fixed with a good girl like Miss Samantha." They petted and rubbed her a while, giving her plenty of love and attention. "The only bad thing about volunteering here is sometimes I just want to take them all home with me. That's how I got Nokk after all."

Kristoff nodded with that understanding look that made him melt. "Sven was a rescue too. But who rescued who is still up for debate."

"Yeah?" he asked, curiosity in his eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded again. "Things were tough for a long while. My biological parents died when I was eight. But one of the last things we did together was get Sven from the shelter. Ma and Pa wanted me to have someone to grow up with, even though they didn't want anymore kids. Pa and I picked him out together, this timid German Shepherd. And when Ma and Pa passed and I went to the system, by a miracle Sven was able to stay with me."

Ryder could tell that the story was a lot for Kristoff. His voice had changed and he kept his eyes down. He reached out a gentle hand. "I'm glad you had each other."

"Me too." Kristoff squeezed his hand back.

They didn't talk for a while after. It was an easy silence, working through the dogs' crates, cleaning them and giving them some love. It was nice.

"Hey, Kris?" Ryder eventually asked after a bit.

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you. My cousin is getting married in a few weeks. I was wondering if you would want to go with me. I know it's really fast and it's okay if you don't want to and my family barely knows I'm gay but-"

Kristoff shut him up with a quick peck on the lips. "I would love to."

Ryder smiled, a bit dazed from the kiss. "Thank you." A kiss didn't feel like he thought it would. It was soft, sure, but it didn't give him that famous spark everyone talked about. He shook his head, willing himself to return to that topic later. "It's a date then."

"It's a date."

---

"You mean you both got invited to a wedding? What are the odds of that?" Anna asked as she worked on breakfast. Sunday breakfast at the sisters' apartment had become a staple since Anna had moved in. It gave a sense of consistency in a time when everything was changing so quickly around them. Because no matter what stress Elsa's lab brought her or how many rude customers Anna and Kristoff dealt with, pancakes and hash browns and homebrewed coffee made everything better.

"It would appear so," Kristoff said setting plates on the table. "Wonder if it's the same wedding."

"It could be," Elsa said, shrugging in her dark blue blanket. "Mine is a local wedding. I wouldn't be surprised if Honeymaren and Ryder had similar friends."

"Still it just seems odd to me." Anna pondered for a minute as she prepared the potatoes. "Do you two even have anything to wear?"

"Jeans and a button down." They both responded in almost perfect unison.

Anna dropped her spatula. "Oh no you're not. You are not going to a wedding in jeans and a flannel. It's not the end all be all of fashion, guys."

"Says the one in Spiderman pajamas," Elsa teased, moving to flick her sister playfully.

"First off, it's breakfast. We always do breakfast in pajamas. And second off, you two are getting nice clothes for this wedding iI swear to God." She hurriedly finished the food, putting it on the table. "Eat up. We're going shopping after breakfast."

Elsa and Kristoff groaned in unison knowing there was no getting out of this one.

---

“Well don’t you look nice?” Anna teased, looking at her best friend and sister. “Didn’t I tell you this would be better than jeans and flannel? You look like someone I’m proud to claim.”

Elsa rolled her eyes, going to give her sister a gentle knock on the head. “Perhaps, but you know I don’t like admitting when you’re right.” She was stunning in a pair of dress slacks and a silk blue top. Her hair was styled in a gorgeous braided updo, something befitting a queen. Between the hair and her delicate makeup, Anna swore she looked like their mother.

“It takes all the fun out of it,” Kristoff teased. He too looked handsome. Anna finally convinced him to get a pair of pants fitted for him instead of the loose fitting pants he usually wore. They looked perfect on him, highlighting assets that Ryder would be more than thrilled to see. He wore a pale green button down with a black tie.

“Oh shush, both of you.” Anna smiled swatting back at her sister. “Can’t I give you guys compliments?”

“You can, but we might be snarky back. Isn’t that right, Elsa?”

“Absolutely.” Elsa leaned down and pressed a kiss to her sister’s head. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine, promise.” Anna stroked Bruni softly where he laid on the couch. “I have three cats and Netflix. I can occupy myself for a night.”

“Just call if you need anything. You know I’ll come home.” It made Anna roll her eyes a bit. She knew her sister was just being protective, but she deserved some fun too.

“I know you will.” Anna gave her sister’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Now get going! You’re going to be late!”

Soon after receiving their invitations, Kristoff and Elsa realized they were in fact going to the same wedding. Maren and Ryder apparently had been friends since they were babies in an odd twist of fate. It was weird, but Elsa took solace in the fact that she would be able to stay with both Maren and Kristoff at the wedding. Her social anxiety was improving, but events like this could still serve as a trigger sometimes.

“Go get yourself a drink. It’ll settle your nerves,” Maren encouraged as they waited around for the bridal party at the reception. The ceremony itself had come and gone without much stress. It was a little long; Elsa didn’t realize they had been pulled into a Catholic wedding, but Maren held her hand the whole time making it a bit easier to bear.

The reception however brought its own set of issues. There were too many people, too much noise. The music wasn’t playing yet, but she knew it would be coming soon. Elsa stammered over to the bar. She usually hated alcohol, but she wanted to get through the night. She wanted to enjoy herself and enjoy herself with Maren, not hiding in the bathroom. Elsa ordered a neat whiskey and prayed it would be enough.

“Better?” Maren asked when she returned.

Elsa kept her head down, but nodded. She wasn’t going to ruin this night for Maren.

“Snowflake, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Elsa bit her lip, head still down. “This is just a lot. It makes it hard to breathe, and I don’t want to ruin your night and I don’t want to leave but I don’t want to be here either and my head is fuzzy and I can’t think and-”

“Elsa.”

Maren took her hands, holding tight. It brought her out of her head and back in the moment. “Let’s go for a walk and see how you feel then okay? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay somewhere that’s making you upset.” Elsa nodded. “Come on.”

The walk helped. Her focus slowly returned and breathing calmed. Maren spoke sweet nothings in her ear, letting her ride the wave of anxiety however she needed to. Elsa was glad she was here, kind and gentle. It wasn’t the first anxiety attack she had in front of Maren, but it was the first when they were alone.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into Maren’s shoulder as they approached the building.

“Anytime.”

The rest of the reception went without much fanfare. Speeches were made, dances were had, and dinner was decent. Elsa found herself having an alright time, alternating between the dance floor and outside for air. It was good.

“Ryder! Maren!” The bride ran up towards their table. “I have to get a picture together with my favorite twins!”

“We’re the only twins you know, Lena,” Ryder teased, coming up and hugging the young woman. “Come on, little sister!”

Maren got up quickly, elbowing him. “Ten minutes doesn’t make that much of a difference.”

Twins? Her girlfriend and her best friend’s boyfriend were twins?

“Kristoff, how-”

“I don’t-”

“Maren never mentioned any siblings.”

“Ryder either.”

“Did they just forget to tell us?”

“Well...” Maren dragged off, rejoining the conversation. “At first yes. But then a few days ago, we realized it should be something to mention. And then someone thought this would be a fun way to find out.”

“Hey! You agreed to it!” Ryder piped in.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Maren got down in front of Elsa holding her hand. “Are you mad at me?”

Elsa shook her head. It was good natured and funny, how could she be mad? It would take a little bit to the idea that Kristoff’s boyfriend was related to her girlfriend. “This just means that Anna isn’t the only trickster in our group. Now go take a picture with your cousin!”

Secrets could hurt sometimes, but they could be fun sometimes too. It was just a little extra quirk.

[unicyclehippo]

Gosh, you’re so inspiring. I’ve been reading your work and following your blog for a while now. You’ve been helping keep me on track for NaNoWriMo with your posts too haha. I was wondering, do you have any tips for writing dialogue? I’ve done research on how to write it and reread my fav books for inspiration but I always feel my characters are so bland at the end? And then the thought of that is so overwhelming lol. Thank you for listening either way. :)

oh hell Yeah nano buddy !!!

uhh dialogue is wildly difficult for me, i find not-dialogue to be so much easier ! that being said, it’s smth im keen to develop so the two things i usually keep in mind is:

a) people very rarely talk to what they actually want to say.

we have secrets & tact & habits & rituals & messy incomplete knowledge & in jokes with people close to us & history & all of that & people say a lot of stuff by bringing up things they “just thought of” or by inching sideways toward a topic or by making pointed digs about someone being untrustworthy/an asshole/etc but never actually saying too much about what they did (rmbr the time they slashed your brothers bicycle tire? - gd, who does that to a nine year old? - he’s genuinely a horrible horrible man).

& b) this isn’t advice on writing dialogue per se, it’s just smth i keep in mind: listen to people around you. eavesdrop. go to a cafe & listen to two friends talk, or people on a date, or someone skype calling their mum. listen to urself when u talk - what are u leaving out? what are u talking around? why do u do it?

humans arent perfect or even necessarily good at talking. a lot of people don’t talk perfectly. a lot of people don’t talk in the same way & especially it is dependant on who we are talking to & in what context. we um & ah & forget words & drop words we don’t need & make jokes & over describe things we really like or that we think the other person would like. maybe they have a stutter or are very shy or it’s not their first language, etc

//

so take this conversation:

“hey, you awake?”

“no.”

“hm. didn’t realise you were a sleep talker.”

(yawn) “runs in the family.”

“... you know rachael, from the store?”

“... i do know rachael from the store. she’s very pretty.”

“oh yes, i definitely would talk about how pretty another woman is in my marriage bed, that’s what i always think really makes my wife happy. all i was gonna say is that she’s a sleepwalker.”

“know that from personal experience, do you?”

“jesus fuckin—she told me it stopped when her husband of nine years whom she loves very much sleeps in the same bed with her every night but it still happens every time he goes away on trips. and yknow they got a kid,”

“just got one outta the store.”

“picked up a brand spankin’ new laddy.”

“for the low low price of seventeen ninety five you too can have a bouncing baby boy. they eat, shit, and sleep and with new features appearing randomly on the daily like crawling frighteningly fast and babbling like they’re talking to someone but there’s no one there and it makes you think your place is haunted, you’ll never know what happens next!”

“no two babies are the same! this one comes pre-installed with a sensitivity to bees, nature’s hardest worker, and enjoys mischief mayhem and smearing his mushy food all over the walls.”

(laugh) “ok what about their bundle of poopy joy? rachael’s, I mean”

“Hmm? oh yeah, hes just learned to walk, yknow, and he’s started to sleep walk too. they’ve found him all over the place. bathroom. staircase. now that actually runs in the family.”

“Huh. cool, I guess?”

“...are you going back to sleep?”

“i was going to try but i guess it depends on if you’re gonna let me. ... anna?”

“yeah. yeah, go to sleep. sorry.”

“are you going to sleep?”

“of course, yeah.” (a Look.) “im fine, love. it’s not like last time. i just...there are a lot of thoughts in my head right now.”

“you? an over thinker? never would’ve guessed.”

“well i try to dumb myself down for you, y’see”

“you do an incredible job of it.”

“cheers.”

“like, a real bang up job”

“you can stop at any time”

“sometimes i think oh boy this lady has nothing in her head at all”

“you are such an asshole” (laugh) “go to sleep”

“you gonna join me?”

“i think I’m gonna go to the study, actually. read through a boring case and try to fall asleep on the couch, okay?”

“...okay. i love you”

//

so forgive me bc it’s early & i don’t actually have a story for this but the subtext of the conversation is that she has insomnia maybe or she’s too anxious to sleep & her wife is trying to sleep & trying to help her to sleep. but there’s no point in talking about things like “have u tried counting sheep” etc bc this is clearly (hopefully) smth that has happened before & they already know those things don’t work. gentle teasing in place of advice to let her wife know that she knows what is going on, to let her know that it’s okay. because she doesn’t know how to rly help her or what to do

so yeah hopefully this was fun to read & maybe helped? it’s by no means perfect advice, just some stuff i have heard & that i use for my own stories. i also find it helps sometimes if im stuck in a scene to write a stripped down version where they aren’t talking around their problem or secret & see what they might want to say. it helps for getting character motivation clear in ur head so it comes through in the proper dialogue. for the previous convo it might be smth like:

“I can’t sleep”

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know”

“I can’t help you and I’m sorry. I love you”

“I know. I’m going to go somewhere else to not sleep so I don’t disturb you”

//

anyway! have fun nano buddy!! may your dialogue flow easily ! may your characters not fight Too Much as you set them on the page !

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to a special, post-debate edition of FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Just six candidates made the debate stage on Tuesday night, and with less than three weeks to go before the Iowa caucuses, this was the last time voters will see these candidates gathered on one stage before the voting begins. And the race in Iowa is currently very tight — in fact, best described as a four-way tie in our forecast. So, here’s the first of our five post-debate questions …

Did the debate change how you think about Iowa?

danjhopkins (Dan Hopkins, political science professor at the University of Pennsylvania and FiveThirtyEight contributor): To me — and definitely according to the FiveThirtyEight primary forecast and recent Iowa polls — Iowa is very much up for grabs, and I don’t think that tonight was anything like the game changer needed to fundamentally reshape the race. Basically, all the candidates seemed to have their moments, but if you are an Iowa caucusgoer waiting for something to break the logjam or convince you that someone is more or less competitive versus Trump, I don’t think you saw it.

julia_azari (Julia Azari, political science professor at Marquette University and FiveThirtyEight contributor): Maybe slightly. One thing I was thinking about was that the ideological lanes are now clearer. Amy Klobuchar and Pete Buttigieg are competing in Joe Biden’s moderate/establishment lane, although both are pretty far behind him (Klobuchar even further behind than Buttigieg). Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren are still competing for the “left” lane of the party. The other lanes I thought would emerge have mostly disappeared.

I’m not sure where this leaves Tom Steyer, but I’m not sure it matters.

I guess that’s not specifically about Iowa, per se, but one implication of what I’ve laid out is that those may be the stakes of the contest. Or there may be two winners — one in the moderate lane and one in the liberal one — in the sense that those lanes are still both up for grabs and vying for dominance.

geoffrey.skelley (Geoffrey Skelley, elections analyst): Man, it’s hard to say how much this might have changed things in Iowa. On the one hand, the debate was pretty uneventful outside of a couple moments. However, more people may have been watching than in many previous debates, particularly Iowa caucus-goers who have to vote in less than three weeks. So it’s possible that someone had a good night and moved the numbers.

That might have been Buttigieg, who I thought was generally strong, both when he was making the case that a health care plan doesn’t have to have a huge price tag to represent a big change or when he was openly referencing his faith. Or maybe it was Warren, who had a potentially viral moment about sexism and the “electability” question that has dominated recent news cycles, whether a woman can win the presidency. (Women face a bunch of gender-based hurdles in elections that men do not, including in the 2020 primary. But ultimately the research, and recent history, suggests that it is very, very possible for those hurdles to be overcome.)

sarahf: We’ll have results from our post-debate survey with Ipsos Wednesday afternoon to answer this next question more rigorously, but give me your first impressions …

Who had the best night?

julia_azari: I didn’t feel like anyone really stood out. Warren and Klobuchar both seemed like they took up more space on the debate stage than in the past; for a candidate of Warren’s stature, she’s had relatively few truly memorable moments or confrontations. But that started to change in December with her exchange over fundraising and wine caves with Buttigieg. And as Geoffrey said, this time it was her exchange with Sanders over whether women can win the presidency.

danjhopkins: I don’t think Biden had a great night — there were again, times that I was confused as to precisely what he was talking about. But at the same time, he’s not the most formidable front-runner, and so I think that at this point, anything short of a significant win for an opponent is probably good for him. I could see an argument that Sanders, Buttigieg, Warren or Klobuchar did fine — but this isn’t a case where everyone can win.

julia_azari Klobuchar had some stumbles, but it’s hard to know if these will matter. After all, she’s not really in the top tier, and still pretty far behind the top four.

geoffrey.skelley: I’ll go with Buttigieg and Warren as my picks, though I’m not sure anyone had a truly great or truly bad night.

Buttigieg, I thought, did a good job of incorporating his experiences into some of his answers. For instance, when he talked about avoiding endless military campaigns in the Middle East, he referenced a time in his army service when he watched a fellow soldier leave behind a young child. And I think among the more moderate candidates, Buttigieg did the best job in challenging the progressive premise that something that’s not “huge” on health care is small potatoes. But I also think Warren’s exchange with Sanders over whether women can win the presidency will get talked about a lot, too, including when she pointed out that the men on the stage had lost a lot of elections, and the women hadn’t.

danjhopkins: To me, one of the fundamental challenges here is that Democrats, especially those still looking for a candidate, seem to really care about electability and beating Trump. But how exactly do you perform electability in a debate?

Who failed to make an impression?

danjhopkins: Deval Patrick?

sarahf: Ha! They have to be on stage, Dan.

geoffrey.skelley: I think Steyer best fits this category, at least among those on stage. I’m not sure he gave a particularly good answer to why he’d make a good commander-in-chief — “I worked internationally around the world for decades” in business. That answer could be given by a lot of people.

He also seemed to say “I agree with [insert candidate]” more than the others on stage, so I’m not sure he was really adding all that much.

But then I immediately question those takes because I do think Steyer does a good job of mostly looking directly at the camera when responding, something I recall Trump doing a lot in the 2016 Republican primary. It can be off-putting but may actually be pretty effective.

julia_azari: Steyer did have some good lines about climate change, though, and may have done some to push the other candidates to address it in their remarks.

I also wanted to add a glib line about the lack of candidates of color on that stage, but I also didn’t want to annoy my editor after we’ve all been up too late covering the seventh debate of this primary season.

danjhopkins: But yes, to Julia’s point, I think the debate topics and tenor have shifted a bit as the candidates of color have dropped out, or not met the debate thresholds.

julia_azari: I mean, not to be super-obvious about it, but tonight was a lot less about race.

The moderators did ask Buttigieg about his lack of support among African American voters, and many of the candidates talked about racism and racial justice. In some ways, the fault lines of previous Democratic contests are what failed to make an impression — that is, they didn’t show up as much. There was agreement about changing the approach to foreign policy, curbing executive power, tackling racism. The health care divide remains the most significant policy one.

sarahf: And, to zoom in on the front-runner …

What about Biden?

julia_azari: What about him? I mean, he kinda did what he always does. Talked about his record. Talked about Trump. Talked about how he was Obama’s VP …

geoffrey.skelley: He offered some nice platitudes about fighting to help middle class and working class Americans.

danjhopkins: As I hinted above, one of the issues with electability is that it’s something you show. It can be hard (or at least awkward) to talk about, but Biden was able to point to the breadth of his support as evidence of his electability when he outlined how he was really the only candidate up there who has a coalition that “represent[s] all elements of the party.”

That said, he certainly doesn’t have the witticisms of Klobuchar, the memorable images of Buttigieg, the show-stopping zingers of Warren, or the righteous indignation of Sanders, and so maybe that limits his appeal.

julia_azari: One thing that’s kind of interesting is that the other two candidates vying for his lane (Buttigieg and Klobuchar) weren’t really in a position to attack him. He’s somewhat personally insulated because of his biography, particularly the unimaginable amount of personal loss he’s suffered. But also no one trying to succeed in that lane wants to attack the Obama administration (even Buttigieg when railing against Washington, for instance). And that’s maybe because they’re trying to carve out the same policy area as Biden, or at least a similar one.

geoffrey.skelley: Yes, Julia, I noticed that too. Neither Buttigieg nor Klobuchar really took shots at Biden. I wondered about that pre-debate, as I was assigned to watch Klobuchar. Her attacks on Buttigieg made sense, but she probably needs Biden to slide some, too!

But I don’t know. Biden’s performance was probably the sort of thing where he did well enough to not lose much support, but also didn’t really gain much support, either.

danjhopkins: What’s challenging about handicapping this debate is that the candidates needed very different things from it. Klobuchar likely needed a tremendous performance given where she stands in the race, whereas Biden and Sanders didn’t need to be much more than themselves.

sarahf: OK, and finally …

How did the moderators do?

julia_azari: I was pretty frustrated with questions in the vein of “don’t the voters deserve to know,” and it felt like a few of the moderators were putting words in the candidates mouths with some of the questions they asked, like when Wolf Blitzer compared Klobuchar’s record in the Senate with Buttigieg’s military service.

geoffrey.skelley: I’ve never moderated a debate, and I don’t imagine it’s an easy thing to do, but with fewer candidates on stage, maybe don’t interrupt them as much if a candidate has hit the time limit. Give them another moment or two, then try to enforce the rules.

Also, there was a question about how the impeachment trial might affect the ability of the three U.S. senators on stage to campaign in Iowa. Asking about impeachment makes sense, but asking about how it’s going to affect their ability to campaign accomplishes nothing — voters do not care about that. It tells us nothing except, well, they’re going to do their jobs.

danjhopkins: On the plus side, the moderators raised a range of substantive issues. But I think that politicians make lousy pundits, and don’t like questions about electability. I also wished that there were more questions about actually managing large organizations, as that’s a key thing that presidents, you know, do. Also, rather than asking the candidates to reiterate their health care talking points for the umpteenth time, try a new issue — the candidates’ child care policies was a welcome departure, for instance.

sarahf: Thanks, everyone! Get some sleep! And readers, please check back with us Wednesday afternoon for the update to our “Who Won The January Debate?” poll.

Make sure to check out FiveThirtyEight’s Democratic primary forecast in full; you can also see all the 2020 primary polls we’ve collected, including national polls, Iowa polls, New Hampshire polls, Nevada polls and South Carolina polls.

[goldenpinof]

I think they just don't put much thought into it. Or maybe they're casual viewers. I joined the fandom after watching BIG but even after digging some information I still thought "but why are you so sure that they're together". I don't even remember what I was thinking when saying this stuff because right now there's nothing to convince me that they aren't in a long-term relationship. If we're talking about people in the fandom - I don't think they are homophobic, they love Dan and Phil and (1/2)

spoiler alert: it's not directed at you, i'm just ranting. again.

loving someone doesn't mean you can't be homophobic towards them, just saying. and all the information is available? so before making statements on someone's relationship dare to make some research? no one is talking about people who doesn't know. but there are people who refuse to see and accept that Dan and Phil are together. why? i don't know. it's like they are erasing the whole 2009-2010 per se, 2017-2018 when Dan and Phil returned to be more carefree on camera and shared a lot of things with us during the tour. also those people are picking up Dan's phrases out of context to "prove" thst they broke up, completely ignoring other parts of the video.

it's not about not knowing. if you don't know you can ask or make a research on your own. it's about being stubborn af.

as to your words about people being scared to assume they are together. fun fact, Dan is okay with it, Dan is okay with us wanting to know more about their relationship. but it doesn't mean he will give us details. debating or even doubting their love that's the problem. confusing people only because you think you "know better", that's the problem. being happy for Dan and Phil and supporting them when they share something with us isn't a problem. and those who jump to conclusions about Dan and Phil's relationship after watching only their coming out videos, the videos that weren't about said relationship and had a completely different messages, need to rethink their logic. casual viewers don't know a lot of things and i get it. then they shouldn't act like they do know. there're different kinds of people who are doubting everything and i'm not uniting them into one, just so you all know.

if i came out harsh, and i sure did, like i said it's not at you. this topic is just...😤😪😴