#most of it are all stuff and academic writing usually want new stuff and its fucking annoying

[collecting--stardust]

Ended up trying to be productive by researching info for my o&g assignment instead of rewatching that Austria race and it ends up making me more stressed out. So my group's topic is molar pregnancy and I'm in charge for complications and health education part and the lack of proper and recent research is astonishing

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[myntrose]

Hi!!! Its me again ✨ anon, sorry i havent been active in a while, but i have a request if you dont mind platonic nahida x reader, where reader is the reincarnation of the flower goddess and is self-aware of that, and was like "wonder how the lesser lord is doing???" and then finds out the the sages did, marches over to the sanctuary, and then has like a custody battle over nahida, which reader wins! you can add any implied or hint at character x reader, i dont mind! Anyways, how are you doing? I got back into genshin a bit ago, and now im a nahida main(she is precious bebe) -✨

✨ OMG I MISS YOU AHHH ! (i haven't done this archon quest yet, just watched streams of it lol) i hope you enjoy!

❀Flower Power!❀

ft: Nahida x platonic! gender neutral! Reader, implied Traveler x gender neutral! Reader

cn: chapter 3 archon quest spoilers, fluff, reader travels with Traveler :D, reader is very protective, i haven't actually gone this far into the quest so very out of cannon LOL, a bit shorter than other fics D:

a/n: i've been alright ✨! a lot of academic stuff, work stuff etcetc D: but i'm slowing coming back! (i tried my best to write this, i'm purposely saving up my archon quests lol)

word count: 325

song on replay: until I found you (em behihold version)

"I want you in my arms, Oh, let me hold you

After dozens of adventures with the world renowned Traveler, many would think that you've seen it all. In some cases, yes, you've gotten to see all sorts of places in Teyvat that you didn't even know existed. All these travels allowed you to meet many new people, as well as old friends from lifetimes ago. Some reuinons were, nicer than others (tea with Zhongli will always beat running away from Ei in Inazuma)

The next destination for the Traveler was Sumeru, with the goal of meeting the the dendro archon. Perhaps it was the perfect compatibility of your abilites and that of the archon of Dendro herself, but you were always closer to her than the other archons. She was kinder than most gods, and definitely smarter. Several times along the journey to Sumeru the Traveler had to make sure you were alright, with the all your excitement constantly bubbling.

While your powers weren't as strong as they were in your past life, you knew something felt of the moment you stepped into Gandharva Village. And, as per the usual, the whole visit of Sumeru was filled with adventures, commissions, and saving a whole population due to the fatui's escapades. When it came to escaping the Sabzeruz Festival, it was only then that you realized where the goddess you were looking for was.

The whole fiasco of rescuing Nahida went better than it played out in your head. When it came to saving her, you specifically requested to stay back and fight all those who locked her up in the first place. And so, once the Traveler finds Nahida, they both are met with the sights of you scolding (and threating) several sages.

Seeing the familiar white haired archon, you immediately sprint over to her and scoop her into a hug, which was lifetimes overdue.

"Lesser Lord! Archons, I've missed you so much!"

"It's really good to see you too, I hope you've been well"

[malicious-compliance-esq]

Thanks @jopkey for tagging me in this fun "getting to know you" game!

Name: Malicious Compliance

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Where do you call home?: Florida, United States

Favorite Animal: Constrictor snakes! My mother also tells me I like "all the weird animals" because of my fondness for spiders, beetles, etc.

Cereal of Choice: I always keep granola around as an easy snack! Especially like when it has almonds, raisins, and dates in the mix.

Visual, auditory, or kinesthetic learner?: I favor a combination of first reading and viewing foundational resources, and then trying a skill myself from that self-teaching above all other methods. If I had to pick one pillar that tends to matter most for me, it would be language across both the written and spoken domains. But things have never been so black and white for me; and being raised by neuroscientists makes me automatically skeptical of rigid thinking about how humans learn.

First Pet: Alison, a goldfish with a nasty habit of eating their tankmates' fins.

Favorite Scent: For general smells, nothing better than a freshly blown-out candle spreading its signature aroma through the surrounding air! For cologne, I've worn Yves Saint Laurent Opium for Men since I was in high school.

Do you believe in astrology?: Depends on what you mean. Do I believe birth timing substantially determines the progression of a person's life or the core traits of their personality? No. Do I think astrology can be a helpful framework for thinking creatively about who we are and why we feel as we do? Yes.

How many playlists do you have on your music service of choice?: On Spotify, which I use for fandom stuff, I maintain playlists for each of my fic continuities. I also have some playlists saved that @i-dwell-in-darkness made for the BJR fandom. On Apple Music I have no playlists whatsoever! I just choose what specific song or album I'd like to listen to if I'm in "specific content" mode; sometimes I also enjoy finding new-to-me artists by exploring Apple's playlists for different genres and eras.

Sharpies or highlighters?: This seems like an "apples or oranges" sort of juxtaposition. I use them for very different purposes, but I do use Sharpies far more frequently and for more diverse functions than highlighters.

Song that makes you cry?: "Dead of Winter" by the Eels can reliably make my eyes tear up. Notable achievement, given I'm not prone to crying. Just the whole Electro-Shock Blues album gets me on a very deep personal level, but this one especially hits hard.

Song that makes you happy?: Playing any of Alice Cooper's music is guaranteed to bring me instant joy. Especially his 70s stuff and anything from his later releases that goes heavy on incorporating those style elements! If I have one "theme song" in life, it's his "Be My Lover" track off 1971's Killer.

And finally, do you write/draw/create?: Yes, absolutely. Both fanworks and many other things, from academic publications to magazine articles to poetry and original prose. Writing is a huge part of both my leisure and my vocation. It feels like breathing to me and I do some form of writing every single day. Usually multiple forms! The one exception is those rare occasions when I'm so profoundly ill physically that I have to stay in bed and spend the day mostly sleeping. I am very stubborn, so that is not a lot of days. If I can sit up, I can write on my laptop or phone in bed. I also used to draw, mostly portraits in charcoal. Sadly my disease did take that from me because of how it has destroyed the blood vessels in my hands. Gripping small objects for any prolonged period of time is horribly painful and will cause lasting issues with my hand function. Even filling out a card by hand creates consequences for the remainder of that day. It's tough, but I don't dwell on this. Too much other joy in the world. If I lost the ability to write by any means, though? That would absolutely be the point where I stopped wanting to live at all.

I'm really curious to see responses from @tucsonhorse and @blindbeholder if y'all feel like joining in!

[lostacelonnie]

Now uh. I must apologize it's been about a hell of a month a lot happened at once & I was havin a not so great time. Oh shit really? How was Croatia whats it like there? I hope school is goin well for you. It sounds like you had a lot of fun with it & that's what matters I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with the festival. Oh! Its doin a lot better I need to make an appointment for detail finishing I almost forgot. It's like. A forest at night lit up with a rainbow aurora. Best way I got to describe it. Me yelling at the weather when it rained 2 days ago & is warmer again today. Hot & cloudy sucks that feels like betrayal. I need to call the doctor again & see if they have openings yet that reminds me. Need to get on meds myself. May you one day get seele & sparkle. I too am saving as much as possible for firefly & I hope I can grab ruan mei too. Which happy firefly release day! Im sad it's the last penacony patch from what ive heard. Right!? Hearing she is mei was so cool penacony story is 10/10. Wait did you get through domincus round 2? Ahh I didn't get robin but I got topaz on a lucky pull. So re run time for robin. Boothill is fun but maybe later. I hope they add more ice units that department feels lacking. Did you get pela & bailu done? I still haven't. I'm gonna get clara for my 300. Thanks I did manage to get arlecchino & clorinde too really quick. Gold & gears is great & now new su mode via screwllum too. Also! New march 7th form soon. So that's cool. Clockie event kept up the good stuff & legend of the galactic baseballer too. Somnium files is a mystery detective game that was. Kinda fun. Weird as hell mystery with a lot goin on. Sorry again my life turned to madness hopefully I'll keep up a bit better now

HI HI HI!!! apologies for taking so goddamn long to respond, my already nonexistent sense of time is even WORSE during the vacations. damn i hope its better on ur side now!! i luckily have been Pretty Okay, with the school year ending and all. CROATIA WAS VERY FUN!! it was actually an academic trip for my mother so we did Marginally less exploring as usual but still! my moms colleague took us to a bunch of cool places. no sea trips tho since we were in zagreb which is quite a bit away from the coastline. but ohhh the mountains and the FOOD!! the food was SO good. theres this little [but very popular] place in zagreb called heritage with the best fucking food ive eaten in my LIFE. genuinely. school finally freed me from its grasp the last 2 weeks [altho i Did have to write some random short tests to get my red stripe] [oh wait you dont know what a red stripe is. basically the grading system in poland is from 1-6, with 1 being the worst. if your average grade at the end of the year is 4.75 or more, you get a little stripe of the polish flag on ur diploma, but we just call it the red stripe. im on a 100% streak since i even entered the education system!] so other than all that i just kind of fucked around with the entire 2 other people who even came to school. that is not an exaggeration like there were genuine 2 other people there. but i digress! the festival WAS a lot of fun. unfortunately the people from younger grades pretty often dont want to participate [i mean, i dont blame them, they just got here] so were pretty much Always short on manpower to the point we might not be able to organize one next year but thats just speculation that i hope doesnt come true ahsjfgh. OH AND THAT SOUNDS SO COOOOOOL......... and YEAH god its been a while since we started this topic and the weather STILL doesnt want to make up its mind. literally had one day ~27-30 celsius and the next around 15. annoying. and hey good luck with getting on your meds!! i got my stash covered for the next 2 months so im Chilling. god how good it is to be medicated. i feel like a deflated balloon when im not. and to think i lived most of my life like that...... AND YAYY THANK YOU!!! ALSO HOW DID YOUR PULLS GO?? i managed to get firefly and ruan meis lightcone hehehehe [50/50 won both times!]..... i was torn between rm's and firefly's but i decided i use rm in more teams AND shes like. My favorite character. so she got lightcone privileges this time. god im gonna miss penacony...... i mean were probably gonna come back here on some trailblaze continuance or whatever just like what happened with belobog and now the xianzhou but still. i Will miss it. such a well written arc. also actually im curious, whats ur fav sub-area of penacony? im a dreams edge girlie but i wonder if thats a common sentiment. the VIBE there is immaculate. AND GOD YEAHHH THAT REVEAL WAS SOOOOO GOOD. especially since it had so so many honkai references so it was basically tailored for me to like it hehehe. i DID eventually get through yeah! with slight pain but i Did. very fun bossfight although it was slightly annoying that we couldnt use our own team both times since it wouldve been much easier. CONGRATS ON THE TOPAZ!! and good luck getting robin in the future!!! i Have finally built pela and bailu (well, bailu is Still missing one good artifact but yknow she does her job even with what she has). now onto firefly and harmony tb.... god my relic AND planar ornament luck is terrible for both of them. pain and suffering but at least automated grinding is, as always, saving my sanity. ALSO WELT SINCE I FINALLY HIT 300 AND GOT HIM. IM FREE. JESUS. and WOO CONGRATS ON THE GENSHIN GIRLIES!!! i actually managed to get my laptop to cooperate with me so im also back to genshin. not playing too often since i also got into friday night funkin and its very fun But i will try to save for arle's rerun. about time i got a good elemental dps. THE NEW SU MODE IS SO FUNNNN I LOVE IT A LOT. and yeah new march looks very very cool!!! probs not gonna get her immediately but she will be mine Eventually.

wow i hit character-per-block limit. Coming Back. i Still havent played the clockie event since i heard it fixes acherons slash and i wanna keep it around a while longer..... but legend of the galactic baseballer Was fun i agree. and ooh that sounds cool!! also dont worry about it AT ALL like genuinely nbd. i personally might reply to your Next message slightly later than i already do (sorry...) bc im going on a summer camp for two weeks this sunday... pretty excited And the grass-touching is something i deeply need...

[denimbex1986]

'In filmmaking there’s a fine line between elegance and pretension, and Christopher Nolan, a citizen of both nations, criss-crosses the border freely. His dedication to craft is always right there on the screen, even in films you may not like; for better or worse, you can usually feel the thought vibrations that went into his decisions about where to put the camera, or how to move the actors around. He knows his stuff, and he makes sure we know that he knows. His expertise gleams like a family crest, looking great when it’s discreetly stamped on a piece of silver, though you really wouldn’t want it on a beach towel.

There may be times in Oppenheimer when you look at the screen and think, Oh brother! as Nolan razzle-dazzles us with impressionistic inset shots of psychotically whirling stars and billowing plumes of what looks like molten lava, all while the lead character expounds in voiceover on the nature of matter, the universe, and other stuff. But either despite its intense craft or because of it, Oppenheimer works. In telling the story of genius theoretical physicist and atomic-bomb architect J. Robert Oppenheimer—played, with an almost otherworldly luminosity, by Cillian Murphy—Nolan blurs the distinction between grandeur and grandiosity. Both his subject and his lead actor can stand up to the outsize scale of his approach, so why shouldn’t he go for broke? So few filmmakers know how to make, or are able to make, pictures this big, about grown-up subjects. Nolan shapes Oppenheimer’s story into something like an epic poem, focusing not just on his most famous achievement, but on everything that happened to him afterward; Nolan is maybe even more interested in Oppenheimer as a complicated, questioning patriot.

As you know if you’ve seen even just one Nolan film—it could be Memento, or Interstellar—he likes to scramble the signals in his storytelling. Oppenheimer is a story told in dots and dashes, demanding that you keep up with its shifts in time and space. But even if you know nothing about Oppenheimer’s story, following along is not that hard—Nolan pulls it all together at the end, and from that vantage point, the landscape of where he’s taken us looks pretty grand. We get some background on Oppenheimer’s time as a young student at Cambridge, homesick for America (he was born in New York) and tormented, as he tells us in those voiceovers, by the secrets of an “alien universe.” (Here’s where those visions of blasting stars and looping ribbons of light, accompanied by jarring, staticky noises, come in.) An early encounter with one of his heroes, Danish physicist Niels Bohr (a half-jaunty, half-regal Kenneth Branagh), recalibrates his thinking. He goes to museums, stares at paintings by Braque and Picasso, and something clicks. The music of the universe begins to make more sense. Oppenheimer begins to think and feel more furiously. There’s some writing on a chalkboard—in scientist movies, there always is—but Nolan uses the conceit sparingly and with some delicacy. He knows, as we do, that the scritch of chalk is a lot more romantic than the squeak of a Dry Erase marker.

Nolan toggles between the distant past and the less-distant past, shifting between black-and-white film stock to muted color as he focuses on three central episodes in Oppenheimer’s story. (The movie’s source is Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin’s 2006 biography American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer.) One of these is the 1954 hearing that ultimately led to the revocation of Oppenheimer’s security clearance, ending his career in government and eroding his status as an academic. Jason Clarke’s Roger Robb oversees the proceedings, wearing a carved-stone face that’s decided “guilty” long before he’s even heard any of Oppenheimer’s own testimony, or that of his witnesses.

The problem was that after Oppenheimer had pulled off the achievement, both extraordinary and tragic, of developing the bomb that would end World War II, his government, which no longer really needed him, decided it was time to question his loyalty—though the FBI had already been dogging him for years, collecting possible evidence against him. After the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Oppenheimer had also expressed moral qualms about the horrors that he’d helped unleash upon the world, and worried about the misuse of nuclear weapons in the future. Nolan balances that 1954 security hearing with another set of hearings before the Senate, convened to confirm—or not, as it turned out—Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.), a founding member of the Atomic Energy Commission, to the position of Secretary of Commerce under Dwight D. Eisenhower. Downey’s performance, equal parts subtly scented aftershave and snake oil, is a double-dealing marvel.

By now, you may have figured that there a lot of men swirling around Oppenheimer, and we haven’t even gotten to the sections of the movie set in Los Alamos, where Oppenheimer led a team of scientists in the top-secret activities of the Manhattan Project. (They’re played by actors including, but not limited to, Benny Safdie, David Krumholtz, and Josh Harnett, plus the sole woman, Olivia Thirlby.) When they test their super-duper bomb in the desert, they put on little goggles and avert their eyes during the blast—their self-protective measures are both comical and horrifying.

There’s a lot going on in Oppenheimer, and it can leave your brain a little scrambled. But Nolan never loses sight of Oppenheimer the man. We get a sense of Oppenheimer’s early adjacency to the Communist Party (though he never officially joined), another convenient strike against him during that 1954 hearing. There’s also a grievous and, for Oppenheimer, heartbreaking affair with a 1930s cool-girl party member, Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh)—the love scenes between the two involve some tastefully lit but not-unaffecting nudity, as well as the reading of Sanskrit. (Always interesting to imagine how great scientists do it.)

Nolan is working with so many moving parts here that it would be logical to wonder: does Murphy, his star, even get enough screen time? But Nolan ensures that the movie belongs to him. It’s a wonderful performance, somber without being deadening, and ultimately haunting. What’s it like to be married to a hot genius? (One of the accusations often flung at Oppenheimer was that he was a “womanizer,” though that word has differing meanings depending on who’s applying them, and how.) Emily Blunt gives us a sense of that in her portrayal of Oppenheimer’s wife, Kitty, also the mother of his two children. There’s no single scene that brings this complex and not particularly blissful marriage to life; it’s only late in the film, when Oppenheimer asserts that these two have “walked through fire” together, that you get a sense of the ironclad bond between them. Murphy doesn’t play Oppenheimer as the distracted-genius husband; it’s more that he accepts that his life must unfold on numerous shifting planes, each distinct from but affecting the others. You can’t apply quantum mechanics to human behavior.

Most important of all, Nolan doesn’t disguise or downplay his sympathy for Oppenheimer the man and the scientist. In that sense, his movie is bracingly honest. He also doesn’t try to oversimplify Oppenheimer’s crises of conscience—they were anything but simple, as Nolan and Murphy show in several scenes underscoring the fact that World War II had to end sooner rather than later, to save the lives of both American and Japanese troops—the casualties on both sides were mounting astronomically day by day and week by week. Yet how could anyone involved in the creation of that bomb not question his or her role after the fact, especially with the benefit of hindsight? Murphy, like Oppenheimer, has a frame that looks to be built from matchsticks, almost too fragile-seeming to support that big brain on top. And his skin has a papery, translucent quality; there are moments when you feel you can almost see his nerve endings quivering beneath. That’s acting for the big screen. And it’s what a great actor can do when a filmmaker hands him a very big story, played out on a canvas designed for great leaps of imagination.'

[rebrandedbard]

Good morning, I had an idea and I wanted to share (could be a prompt if you want): So, Jaskier definitely, absolutely wants to learn Geralts potions and which to give when. But they aren't labelled at all and you've got to discern by shapes and colours. I firmly believe Jaskier writes a little ditty for that and maybe it spreads or maybe Geralt wakes up after a hunt with vague memories of that song after Jaskier saved him...

Jessi you know exactly what to say to get a fic out of me. Invoke my musicality! Just for you, not one, but two songs Jaskier uses for Geralt's potions!

-

Witcher's Brew

wc - 2476

Geralt wakes up after a hunt gone wrong and finds himself patched up in bed. He waits for Jaskier to arrive and overhears him singing a strange song to himself as he fusses with Geralt's potion supplies.

-

Rabbit stew, warm and fresh from the pot. It was the first thing Geralt could remember upon waking. They’d had rabbit stew at midday, just before the hunt. He almost imagined he could taste it on his dry, cut lip, but the lingering bitter taste of White Raffard’s Decoction chased the last of the memory away. He could not recall taking any potions. In fact, he had trouble remembering what it was he’d been fighting. His head was vague, all the details swirling at the edges in a haze. Someone had been speaking to him, he thought. Was it the chanting of a kitchen maid, timing her baking with a prayer? Or was it a song?

A song.

Geralt sat up with a grunt. “Jaskier,” he called, voice rough and catching in his throat. He looked around the darkness of the room, but he was alone. He scented the air. Jaskier had been near in the last hour or so, his smell not yet faded. It tasted bitter on his tongue, like the decoction: bitter like the musk of fear. The tang of salt hung in the air as well. Tears. But there was more. From the table at his side came an earthy scent and he discovered a bowl of mushrooms upon it. Sewant mushrooms.

That’s right. They’d been in the caves. The vision of the beast rose to the forefront of his mind and he remembered that they’d been fighting not a wyvern as hired, but a slyzard. It had been a deadly miscalculation, for the beast could breathe fire over a great distance. Geralt felt the fresh burns on the back of his neck, smelled the poultice pasted there. He remembered pulling Jaskier behind cover. He’d not had the chance to see whether he’d been burned as well. There had been too much to distract him; he did not even know if he’d slain the beast.

There had been mushrooms in the cave. Someone had to have brought them. Jaskier would be foolish enough to return to the caves, even if the beast still lived. But for mushrooms? Geralt could not imagine why.

“Sewant from the sewer caves, crows’ eyes, fang of beasts; blood from all the nasty things, and myrtle pure as priests.”

Geralt turned to the sound of Jaskier’s singing beyond the door. It cracked open and there the bard stood, arms hidden beneath a mass of white flowers. He had, too, a leather pouch dangling from around his wrist. Unloading his burden upon the table, he flipped through the open bestiary, still singing under his breath. It was not his usual kind of song; it was lifeless, simple rhyme and meter without passion. He did not even glance Geralt’s way as he set to work, grinding ingredients together in a mortar.

“Mistletoe and mutagen, aloe leaf of wolf; green mold, han, and celandine, then in the flame engulf.”

Jaskier poured the concoction into a potion bottle and hurried to the fire. He bent to light it, cursing as the matches failed beneath his shaking hand. He cursed louder, his hand slipping again. His voice began to shake as he continued his chant.

“Remember Raffard’s recipe and count it by this rhyme; be ye neither quick nor slow to measure out the time. Once the brew has bubbled and its color turns to red, let cool and cork then brew again to raise him from—”

Jaskier’s voice caught in his throat as he failed to light the match once more. He gripped the potion bottle in his hand and wiped at his eyes, unable to finish the line. “To raise him—”

“From the dead,” Geralt concluded.

Jaskier whirled around, dropping the bottle upon the floor. It shattered, spilling its contents into the hearth and over his boots. But he didn’t pay it any mind. He ran to Geralt’s side and knelt before the bed. His hands were everywhere at once, prodding gently, examining him.

“Geralt,” he breathed. Then everything came out in one great rush, each new thought interrupting the last. “Oh fuck, I was—! You weren’t moving. You just dropped to the ground the minute your sword—! I had to carry you back, and you only had one vial left. I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to make more before …”

“One vial is enough,” Geralt said. He nodded toward the supplies on the table. “Is that White Raffard’s?” he asked, knowing it could be nothing else.

Jaskier nodded, silent.

“What was that song just now?”

Jaskier bit his lip, looking guilty. “I … didn’t meant to pry,” he murmured. “I promise never to share trade secrets but … I had to know how it was made. It’s one of your most important potions. If you couldn’t make one, and if we were ever in a situation where we couldn’t find a healer, I needed to know that I could save you. So I watched, and I wrote it to remember.”

“You wrote a song to remember how to brew a potion?” Geralt asked. He looked at the ingredients. They were all correct, and well-measured from the look of it. Jaskier had prepared three bottles, two still sat empty on the table. Before them, their ingredients lay in even piles, waiting to be ground in the mortar.

Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his, pressing his forehead to it. “I can brew Raffard’s, White Honey, and Swallow. I know you need Swallow with Raffard’s, for the toxicity. And … if I ever brewed a faulty potion, I would have the Honey.”

“You know what potions to take,” Geralt said. It was less of a question, more an expression of awe. He’d never taught Jaskier about the potions, merely asking for them as needed if Jaskier were in reach to fetch them. And from that, Jaskier had learned what was needed when.

“I wrote a song for that, too. All of them: what they’re for, the ones to take before a battle, and the ones to take after.”

Geralt blinked.

“All of them?” he asked.

Jaskier looked up. He once more turned his head away in shame. Witchers’ potions were not for men to know, let alone theirs to brew. But he nodded. There was no denying it now.

“Sing it to me.”

The look on Jaskier’s face was nothing short of complete and total astonishment. Geralt never requested songs. “You … right now? You want me to sing the song?” Jaskier faltered.

When Geralt gestured toward the lute, Jaskier smiled.

“It hasn’t got music,” Jaskier said. “It isn’t meant to be sung, really. Not in that way at least.”

“But you could put it to music, I bet.”

Jaskier flushed. There was a bit of praise in there somewhere—an admission of skill. At Geralt’s request, he stood and fetched the lute. “You seem to be doing much better,” he said, sitting at his side on the bed.

“Raffard,” Geralt replied. “Are you in tune?”

Jaskier strummed the lute slowly, emphasizing each open note with pride. “Always am.”

“Sing, then.”

It only took a minute of experimental plucking before Jaskier had a set of chords prepared. He strummed them twice in succession, then began his song:

Before one fights vampiric beasts

Drink Black Blood down to spoil their feasts

And if there’s acid on the rise

First taking Bindweed would be wise

When fighting something swift and cruel

Down Blizzard quick before the duel

And if the brawl takes place at night

Take Cat to see in dimmest light

Geralt watched with open admiration as he listened. Jaskier had learned it all on his own. He’d made a careful study of the potions without any help, and what Geralt heard was thus far correct. There were trainees who’d not kept such simple things in order, even with proper instruction.

When fighting wraiths one cannot spy

De Vries’ Extract evolves the eye

And wolves will howl in perfect tune

When given life by the Full Moon

At the play on wolves, Geralt rolled his eyes. Even so, he was impressed. He’d only encountered two wraiths with Jaskier at his side. He would’ve had to pay very close attention to remember De Vries’ Extract’s purpose.

The bit about the wolves did not escape his notice either. There was a little crook in the corner of Jaskier’s mouth as he sang the words. Of course the potion made for jokes among the witchers of the school of the wolf, but they weren’t the only ones who used them.

But if one’s poisoned first, let’s say

Oriole takes the sting away

And when one bleeds, to stop the aches

A simple Kiss is all it takes

If long the task you must endure

Then take a dose of Maribor

And if one’s signs aren’t up to snuff

Then Petri’s Philter is the stuff

If one cannot avoid a hit

The vengeful Shrike takes care of it

And if you’ve time while under cover

Swallow aids a slow recover

If the battle leaves you tired

Tawny Owl may be required

And while weak one cannot parry

Thunderbolt will make foes wary

When hope is lost and at its end

White Raffard’s revives your friend

And if while brawling stunned you be

Then Willow is the remedy

For power in your every blow

Take Wolf to strike against your foe

And though it makes one wobble blind

With Wolverine their fate is signed

Remember this what else you do

White Gull is base for every brew

And when the potions start to strain

White Honey lets you start again

“You ended with White Honey,” Geralt remarked.

Jaskier lay a hand over the strings of his lute, quieting them. “It lets you start again, does it not? Once you swallow a dose of White Honey, it nullifies the effects of all potions,” he said in his most academic voice. “I thought it would be fitting to end the song there; it certainly helps to remember the purpose.”

“And you know how to brew it.”

“I find it ironic that there’s not a trace of honey in it whatsoever. In fact, far too many of your potions involve the use of vinegar, the very opposite of honey. Would it ruin the potions beyond use if I were to add a bit? A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, they say.”

Geralt smiled. He waved his hand, gesturing for Jaskier to come closer. He put a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “I think whatever potions you brew for me in the future will be made sweet enough by that sentiment,” he said. “So don’t fuck up my recipes, bard.”

Jaskier stammered, then laughed and batted Geralt’s face. “You cheeky thing! For a moment, I thought you actually intended to compliment me.”

“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Geralt asked. “I did.”

“Not a compliment if you insult my cooking right after. Or—well, eh—brewing, as it were.”

“Alchemy.”

“Oh, yes, that’s much more flattering. Assistant Alchemist! I do like the sound of it.”

Geralt chuckled. “You’re my assistant now, are you?”

“But of course,” Jaskier replied, waving a dramatic arm in the air. “Always have been. I only needed a proper title.

“Then tell me, assistant: what became of the slyzard?”

Jaskier grinned and leaned over to grab the leather pouch from the table. He tossed it for show and caught it with one hand before emptying its contents. A collection of sharp, bloody teeth fell onto the sheets, some with bits of pink gum still attached to the yellow base.

“I believe Raffard’s called for fang of beasts in the list of ingredients,” he said. “And there was no other beast nearby to take from. Your sword was still lodged in its back; all I had to do was give it one last thrust through the heart.”

Jaskier winked and produced another bag from his doublet, heavy with coin. “Needed proof anyway,” he said, setting it alongside the teeth. “I needed some distraction while you were out, so I checked off the list: put you on the mend, finish the hunt, get the pay, replenish supplies.”

For a moment, his cocky expression faltered. “I was just finishing up when I got a little …” he trailed, bundling up the teeth once more. “Well, it’s easier to get lost in worrisome thoughts when doing quiet tasks like foraging. But you woke up, and now there’s nothing left to fear. I’ll have a new set of potions ready for you by the time you’re well enough to get out of bed.”

“… You … killed the slyzard?” Geralt said.

“You did most of it. I just gave it the last push. It barely twitched. Honestly, its innards made more of a fuss when I went to bottle them. I think you’ll be well stocked for some time.”

Jaskier killed the slyzard. He stooped to rummaging in its bleeding corpse for the most vile and disgusting of ingredients. For his potions. Which Jaskier brewed. Which he knew how to brew by merely observing, putting it all together in simple songs to remember. And still he’d found time to collect his pay.

“Fuck me,” Geralt said in wonder.

“Maybe once you’re healed,” Jaskier laughed, ears a touch pink.

“Then kiss me,” Geralt amended. He lay his hand over Jaskier’s arm, leaning forward, enraptured. It was a simple revelation and he wondered just how long the idea had been bubbling in the back of his brain. “Kiss me,” he said. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Jaskier blinked twice, his cheeks flushing as he took in the seriousness of Geralt’s tone. “Did … you put too much White Gull in that last batch of Raffard’s?”

Geralt shook his head, his eyes never leaving Jaskier’s. “Will you kiss me?” he asked again.

“I …”

“You killed a slyzard for me.”

“Yes.”

“And you memorized my potions. In case I needed them.”

Jaskier nodded.

“You love me,” Geralt concluded. His heart gave a leap at the notion. Yes. Yes, this was something he never knew he wanted. No, not wanted—this was something he needed. If all that didn’t add up to love, he didn’t know what would. It was such a simple thing, and he was a very simple man in every meaning of the word.

“Love me, Jaskier,” he said. “Love me and kiss me, please.”

But Jaskier already did. And before the final plea could escape Geralt’s lips, Jaskier did.

I’m going to take care of you, Geralt thought. He would take care of Jaskier just as Jaskier had always taken care of him. Good care.

“I do love you,” Geralt corrected.

Jaskier chuckled. “Don’t need to think about it?”

“I don’t think I ever really did.”

[whimsical-ness]

a lil life update

its been a while...but im back! some explanations, new milestones, and yes, fic updates (!!) under the cut:

I’ve logged in for the first time in a few very hectic months, but I think I owe you all a proper post explaining where I’ve been, what I’m doing, and what I want to do next.

First things first: I’m officially done with graduate school! It’s crazy to think I first started writing on here as an 18 year old high school student, and now I’ve completed not just an undergraduate degree, but also a masters in marketing to finally be DONE with academics?? its been a wild ride and I still can’t believe it.

Not being a student anymore is definitely a scary and intimidating experience, but I’ve been extremely fortunate to have actually found *cue confetti* a job🎉🎉 it’s something I really enjoy and it means I get to stay in my favourite city in the world atleast for the foreseeable future!

This brings me now, to what’s next. Since I finally have no academic deadlines and constant pressure, and since for the most part work life is usually restricted to 5 days a week, I suddenly have a bunch of free time that I am very eager to fill with things that bring me joy.

And one of those is writing fanfic. As you might have noticed already, I’m currently venturing into writing bts fics, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about my ongoing exo stuff, or that I don’t plan to write for some of the members again! And so, (fingers crossed) you’ll be seeing me on here more often, and I already have a plan for fics and updates that take up the rest of 2022. I think this is what most of you probably care about so here it is:

currently working on: yoongi arranged marriage au

next: jungkook fake dating/enemies to lovers au

after that: felon part 13!!

before 2022 ends: felon part 14 (probably the finale), and broken part 3 (the final part)

officially on hiatus for now: illicit and shadows 

I do have to stress that it’s not a promise that I can get all of these done, but it’s an intention, and a solid one.

And to everyone who’s still here, or who have been checking up on me and leaving comments and asks and reblogs...thank you. It means so much to me that my fics are still being appreciated by you wonderful people even 5 years on, and it makes me want to keep doing this, and has been the driving force in me pushing myself to come back and get started again :)

[anxious2dsimp]

General Dating Headcanons | Sero, Todoroki & Bakugou

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Sero x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Headcanons​

Warnings: Cursing bc Bakugou 🙄 (as if I wasn’t the one who picked him lmao)

Request: :))) hellooooo :D hmmmm may i get general dating headcanons for sero, todoroki, and [insert your favorite character]? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 @smexy-goose

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Hi again!! Omg yes, I’ll gladly write some hcs for the best bois! I had a hard time picking a fave, but since I have written for Kami and Kiri in the last request I decided to go with blasty boy❤️ (Also, I’m trying a new way to post requests, I hope it works!)

Sero Hanta

I feel like Sero is genuinely so fun to date, just like he said in that one dorm episode, he’s always the wild card.

He’s a goofball, so he adores making you laugh and smile as much as he can. I love him omg😭

Will definitely take advantage of his height (he’s among the taller ones in the class) and give you surprise hugs from behind and rest his head on yours.

He’ll also use his quirk on you for everything from pranks to just randomly pulling you to him to give you a quick peck or a hug :’)

He’s pretty standard with PDA, so he won’t go around making out with you in public but he will do little gestures like those <3

In private I feel like he’s definitely cuddly, he’s just so happy to be with you!

He loves having you over at his room to just chill or be in each other’s presence, even if you’re doing stuff individually.

Speaking of, the bakusquad definitely complains about you having privilege in using the hammock in Hanta’s room. 

Denki will whine like; “why does y/n always get to use the hammock? You said it was out of bounds!”

“That’s on pretty privilege, sorry! And you’re just jealous you don’t have a cool s/o like mine,” Sero will say and poke his tongue out from the hammock where you’re swinging togehter :’) 

I’m warning you now, if you had a healthy sleep schedule before going out with him, you can kiss it goodbye.

Sero will absolutely be up till like 3 am sending you memes and tiktoks that remind him of you.

And with him blowing up your phone you’ll most likely end up talking into ungodly hours of the night, the *sleep deprivation* only causing funnier conversations.

Those will end up becoming inside jokes that he’ll bring up to make you laugh while the rest of the class is like ???

That also results in some weird ass nicknames sorry not sorry

So he’ll sometimes call you regular stuff like babe and other times... he’ll call you things like “Bert” (FOR NO REASON??) or “Candied Blood Pumping Organ” instead of sweetheart lmao

Overall you two are just THE chaotic couple (and if you’re not generally that way he will bring out that side of you)

Pranking your classmates? Pranking each other? Random ass adventures? Trying weird food together? Dancing in the kitchen at midnight while sharing late night snacks? By going out with him you said yes to all of the above.

From sneaking out of the dorms for late night food runs to occasionally skipping class to go to the arcade or the beach, you usually can’t go a week without doing something fun togehter.

This one time you two were out with the Bakusquad and y’all stopped by a supermarket to get food. 

So you had to ask Bakugou to buy you something bc you and Sero had to stay outside and just hand him the money.

He was like “tf?? why? Just buy your shit yourselves!” You had to explain you two were banned from the store because Hanta had accidentally crashed a cart he was driving you around in into a display of cereal boxes.

Ah yes, good times.

Todoroki Shoto

I feel like he’ll definitely need a small push when it comes to relationships bc of his past, but once you’re with him he’ll care deeply about you and will try to make you as happy as you make him :’)

I’m begging you, please give this boy some luv and affection!! For the most part you’d probably initiate PDA because he’s too nervous to do it himself

At the beginning he wouldn’t even be comfy cuddling, solely because he’d be afraid of hurting you somehow :(

But once you’ve reassured him he complies, and from then on out you just have to open your arms and he’ll instantly know it’s *cuddle time*

It’a one of his favorite pastimes bc he just feels so safe and loved <3 he also just loves the feeling of you playing with his hair

Luckily you get to do it year round since you cuddle his hot side in the winter and cold side during the summer

I feel like he’s secretly insecure, so the fact that you trust him and love him for who he is makes him feel like he could melt <3

Because of that you’re the only one he truly opens up to and shows his real feelings to, not to mention the only one who can touch his scar

And though he isn’t great with words, one look at him during one of these personal moments when its just you two, and you can just see it in his eyes.

Especially if you kiss his scar, his eyes might even get teary this sweet boy I 😭

That’s also probably why he shares his precious cold soba with you

Since you’ve been together, Shoto has just been so much happier, so his siblings and mother LOVE you.

They’re constantly inviting you over for dinner when Endevour is working (bc he’s a huge buzzkill to say the least), and his mom adores when you come with Shoto to visit her :)

Todoroki really enjoys seeing you get along with the people he cares the most about...

 BUT what he hates is THE EMBARRASING STORIES HIS FAMILY TELLS YOU OMG (you live for them, but I wouldn’t tell him that if I were you)

“Fuyumi remember when Shoto-” “Natsuo, no💙“ your bf will say as he unconsciously squeezes your hand, both of the siblings laughing at Shoto’s glare.

You had to hold in your laughter so hard omg

Though he isn’t that talkative, you guys definitely have that kind of relationship where you two could be silent and still feel completely comfortable (oh I’m so jealous of that but nvm)

He’s definitely observant, so expect the most considerate gifts and the most assertive observations, he’ll always know what you need.

The type of observant that gives you a water bottle before you even notice you’re thristy during training, or switches sides while walking so you loop your arm with his on his warm side when you’re cold.

Also the type to gift you that one thing you really wanted but mentioned once like months ago along with your favorite snacks/drink (you best believe he has them all memorized bc he’s just that attentive)

Over all, just a really soothing relationship were you can be comfortable with each other and feel at home when you’re together.

Bakugou Katsuki

Ok so, I feel like you’d be a competitive couple, turning anything into a competition in an endearingly annoying way.

You’re definitely the type of couple to go to laser tag, an escape room, an arcade, etc, as dates >:) but the competitions don’t end there:

Who can plan the best date? Who can make the other blush first? Who can get the other the better gift? Who’s the better kisser? Who gets the higher score in class? Or wins at sparring?

Especially when it comes to productive stuff like training or academics, although he won’t admit it, he’s just pushing you to be your best because he knows how amazing you are :’)

All the bakusquad knows about your shenanigans and at this point they’ve learnt to stay out of it & go get the Advil just in case bless their souls lmao

I’m sorry but he definitely calls you nicknames that purposely piss you off (with no ill intentions ofc), like “gremlin”, “dumbass” or “booger”

I suggest you also call him stuff like that back, like “angry pom” or “blasty” to get on his nerves >:)

You guys also definitely friendly bicker all the time, knowing that you take it lightly (though strangers won’t, resulting in some hilariously awkward situations)

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he’ll say rolling his eyes as he messes up your hair.

Just watch his smirk dissapears when you reply, “no, u❤️″ It gets on his nerves, I just know it.

So he’ll chase you around as you call each other random stuff. While the other people at the convenience store are just like  👁👄👁

He never means it tho, keep in mind if you’re dating the self proclaimed future no. 1 hero he thinks highly of you :)

So he’d definitely be protective while simultaneously showing you off <3

Will always greet you with a kiss and keep his hand on your back or waist so ppl know you’re with him

RIP anyone who tries to hurt or flirt with you, I say try bc Bakugou will be exploding them even before they get the chance😅

Denki’s definitely almost gotten his brows blown off his face bc of that lol

Speaking of, the bakusquad still can’t get over the fact that THE lord explosion murder has a soft spot for you,

You mean you take care of his injuries, scold him when he burns himself out, touch his hair, and hug him when his moody... and you DON’T get cussed out and blown up? Shooketh

However they don’t see what happens behind closed doors, & how you’ve helped him with all the trauma he has experienced

You’re the only one who he is vulnerable with, you’ve seen him cry and he tells you about his nightmares and fears

You do the same with him, and you promise each other to get through anything together, which you’ve done so far :’)

Bc of that his parents love you, and his mom’s always going on about how she’s so glad you “stand” his son😂

Why can’t he be real ughhh

[ceramicdove]

DEAR DOVE (explodes u in a mircowave) i was reading a nonfiction collection of articles on psychiatry and i was wondering if u liked reading nonfiction urself!

personally i love writing nonfiction the most because its easy to write about the world and argue about things but fiction requires a lot more of u thinking and having to unpack stuff! in fact as a child i rlly enjoyed reading encyclopedias, although i rarely absorbed it proper.

anyways enough of me,, do u have a favourite non fiction topic of interest or whatever!

DEAR LAB (explodes into a massive pile of glitter and confetti, subsequently setting the countertop on fire)

I do read non-fiction! I generally take more to other types of writing, but I did also grow up perusing encyclopedias, magazines, history books, textbooks, etcetera. so I regard it fondly in one way or another. I sometimes enjoy deep-diving for obscure academic papers when I'm in a brunt and want information on a specific subject, though it usually takes more time to digest due to higher-level technical language that I'm not familiar with as a high-schooler. I still find that it's worth it.

it's almost like a game when I hunt for things sometimes because it's interesting to see how obscure of a topic I can find: I start at something relatively basic and end up at papers specific enough that I'm not even sure how they exist (but I'm grateful). A recent example of this is a paper I found called "Exploring post-irony through narratives of love and suffering in VRChat" and, well, it's exactly what the titles says it is. I've yet to finish reading it, but I went crazy the moment I even saw that somebody would write such a deep article on a Steam VR game where people with 3D anime girl avatars go to scream at each other.

I occasionally dabble in reading self-help, but I interact with academic non-fiction the most.

I'm not sure if I can say I have a particular topic of interest, though in recent times I've been occasionally reading papers on cultural norms, traditions, historical evolutions and differences, and I have taken a liking to it. I also started (and need to continue) reading up on philosophy, death, mourning and other similar concepts (and especially how we as humans have interacted with death across time and space). It's not even just non-fiction, one of the recent books I picked up is a poetry collection about death from a local writer. This is something I made myself do due to two projects I have that both follow death as relevant themes: I wanted to make sure I can cover it in a way that goes beyond the surface level. I don't know if I can call this a Favourite Topic Of Interest, though, because it's actually quite an upsetting and suffocating thing to read about, at least for me, but I know I have to do it. Maybe this is exposure therapy of some sort.

And I like journalism! Before my English exam I actually forced myself to read a lot of British journalists just to pick up new language and get more used to Their Way of writing, since we study British English and therefore have to utilise it during exams (yuck). But it was fun, and I appreciate how certain journalists and researchers have a very fascinating way with words that almost feels narrative.

Regarding actually writing it, it's fun in its own way. I used to do it back when I was doing debate and had to write notes, reports, speeches and case files. It required me to read anything from entry-level articles on Google to more advanced papers and official government documents depending on the motion. It was fun compiling and sourcing all of that information! And it was fun gaining new knowledge. Nowadays a chunk of my classmates rely on me to guide them in writing non-fiction for our classes because they deem me to be good at it and think I have a solid vocabulary, so maybe it paid off a bit.

But ultimately, I'll always lean towards creative forms of writing. I can't sustain writing non-fiction for too long without feeling like my brain is shriveling up into a raisin.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Fred Weasley

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- It’s sort of hard to ignore the Weasley twins, isn’t it? Tall redheads who play on the Quidditch team and are always bringing attention to themselves in one way or another? Little hard to miss.

- Speaking of being on the Quidditch team, that’s how the two of you first meet which, depending on what house you’re in, means that you either met during tryouts for the Gryffindor team or after/during a game against Gryffindor.

- The competitive and teasing Weasleys are going to mess with you either way but how they; mainly Fred, tease you somewhat depends on which house you’re in.

- The teasing which occurs regardless of what team you’re on includes: them playfully telling you not to screw something up, Fred smiling and insisting that you’re doing something wrong, him giving you compliments he jokingly pretends to not want to admit, etc.

- If you’re on the Gryffindor team then he’ll have more of an excuse to be around you and be more touchy, ruffling your hair, picking you up in a hug when you guys win a game, softly pushing/bumping shoulders with you, etc. Him and George are the bane of your existence and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

- It’s after one of your games that he finally asks you out. If you’re on the other team then you’d probably have to lose for him to do so, so sorry about that.

- He comes up to you and cheekily says “good game y/l/n” before asking “think you’d want to celebrate with me at Hogsmeade this weekend?”. This means that you either happily agree or teasingly ask what you’re celebrating, reminding him that your team lost.

“Why, you’re celebrating another great fight against the ultimate victor, of course!” He answers in an exaggerated voice, tossing his hair back while sticking his noise in the air.

“Alright, alright, sure. I’ll go with you to Hogsmeade.” You laugh in reply as the two of you walk towards the school.

- So yes, your first date takes place in the little village near the school. He keeps his arm around you as you walk in the snow together and talk. He also probably drags you to the joke shop which, knowing him, you probably should have anticipated said visit. He’s just as cheeky as always but hey, that’s what you like about him, right?

- The two of you share your first kiss about a week later, right before you go to get ready for another game; or at least before he does. He’d playfully asked for a little good luck kiss and you’d pressed one to his cheek. He hummed, saying that he “might need a little more than that”, giving you a grin as he pulls you in by your collar and presses a kiss to your lips.

“That’s better.” he’d said before sending you a wink and running off to get ready, leaving you standing there flustered yet happy.

- And just like that, the sneaky, secondhand robe wearing redhead had officially stolen your heart.

- Tons of pda. He’s a touchy boy and he loves loving on you; he can never get enough of it. 

- Fred’s used to sharing affection and attention with a bunch of other people so he’s always eager to have yours. Surprise him with a hug or a kiss on the cheek and he’s a happy boy. 

- His hand is constantly on your thigh. Sometimes it’s purposefully placed there, other times he’ll just rest it there without thinking after he pats you on the leg. 

- Hugs from behind. He loves to whisper things in your ear or duck his head down to brush his lips against your neck, making you giggle and squirm as he holds on tight. 

- Temple kisses.

- Teasing words leading into kisses. He likes making playful comments, his face moving closer to yours before he finally connects your lips. 

- Sweet, soft kisses. He’ll just keep going in for another as you’re half distracted, doing so until you finally giggle and softly push him away. 

- Him stealing kisses from you before you can do anything, either on your lips or somewhere else. He likes quickly giving you a peck before running off with George to do something. 

- Lots of snogging.

- He can cuddle you in just about any position and be happy but he has a particular fondness for when you lay in the crook of his arm with his head resting against yours. 

- He always pulls you to sit down next to him whenever you’re in the great hall together; or wherever else you can be together. 

- Him lounging between your legs; especially when you’re with your friends. He likes resting the back of his head on your stomach/chest and feeling you wrapped around him. 

- Soft looks. He acts like this cheeky menace all the time but he’s really a softy when he’s with you. George gives him smug and amused looks when he catches him looking at you like you’re the moon. 

- He likes calling you things like pretty girl, lovely, and sweetheart. 

- Flirting and pick up lines. Usually you flirt with someone when you want to date them but not Fred. No, Fred started really flirting with you after you became a couple. 

- Teasing; in every sense of the word. Poor girl, you’re never left alone. 

- He thinks spooking you is highly amusing. He likes seeing you jump or jolt at his sudden appearance, loving the way you slap his arm and whine at him. 

- Pranks, both getting them played on you and helping him play them on others. 

- Getting roped into things. He’s the ringleader of most of the twins shenanigan's so its only natural. 

- Mini competitions and bets. He’s a competitive boy and he likes that determined look on your face; and bragging to you or watching you brag when one of you wins. 

- Passing notes in class.

- Sneaking around the school together using the marauders map and his sheer knowledge of the school. 

- Getting to keep his old sweaters when he outgrows them. They’re the only piece of clothing that he can really give you, considering everything else can go to his siblings. 

- Sometimes, you’ll get him a little gift and he won’t be able to stop smiling for the rest of the day. He cherishes it; especially when you aren’t there to see. Occasionally, he’ll just hold it in his hands and smile when he’s alone in his room. 

- Snowball fights and snowman building. 

- Being dragged into Zonko’s shop whenever you go to Hogsmeade. 

- Study dates. He usually gets very distracted by you and just tries to persuade you to go do something more entertaining. He’s never been a big fan of academics, not unless he’s trying to mess with you and teasingly not pay you attention when you want it. 

- He probably likes writing stupid stuff on you or your things, stuff like “Fred’s property” or “Gryffindor rules”, etc. 

- Celebrating with him after he wins Quidditch games and being invited to join his family whenever they go to professional ones. 

- Compliments and flattery. “How is my beautiful girlfriend”, “have I told you how amazing you are today”, most of the Weasleys know how to get what they want through flattery and he’s no exception. He also just likes making you flustered. 

- He believes in you more than anyone else. He knows exactly how impressive you are and what you can do. 

- Visiting the burrow whenever you can.

- Molly loves you; especially if you try to keep Fred out of trouble. You’re like another daughter to her once she sees that you’re a good match and a good  influence on her lovely little man. 

- George third wheeling a lot or having double dates with you; when he does manage to get a girlfriend. Although, it’s not really third wheeling when it’s Georgie, is it? He’s just a part of you. 

- Getting to hear all about their new products and how they work, occasionally helping them come up with things or explaining why they wont work/testing them out. He gets sort of shy when you earnestly call him brilliant. 

- Visiting him at the shop and possibly working there if that’s what you want to do.

- Him trying to impress you with his tricks and fishing for your praise. Once again: a bit deprived of attention; though that’s not Molly’s fault. 

- He can certainly be a bit of a jerk but he’s always there to comfort you and make you feel better. It’s what older brothers do best. 

- Jealous boy. He’ll always clench his jaw when he sees you smiling or laughing with someone else. He’ll come over and kiss your head, interrupting the two of you and asking “what’s going on over here?” when he thinks they’re getting a little too comfy. He’ll definitely prank the hell out of someone if he learns they made a move on you. 

- Protective. He’s an older brother to a younger sister, it’s in his blood to watch over little ladies that he cares about; even if he gives you hell from time to time. 

- The two of you don’t really “fight” but you do bicker quite a bit, though that’s usually resolved fairly easily since you’ll pretty much just move on and forget about it. If you do fight fight then he’ll usually try to play it off and insist that the issue isn’t a big deal which doesn’t help his case. 

- If he was in the wrong then he’d give you an “okay, okay, I’m sorry” but it’s usually a bit too late at that point. He’ll give you a little space before he comes around and gives you a proper apologize, acting too cute for you to stay mad at him. 

- If you’re in the wrong then he’ll be serious for once, arguing with you until it’s settled and you apologize/agree to never do it again. Only then will he let out a breath and an “okay” and wait a minute before pulling you into a hug. 

- Lots of I love you’s, usually sung out playfully. He loves hearing you say it to him too; even if he only shows it by failing to stop himself from smiling. 

- The two of you have a long and happy life together. He knows that you’re the one for him and is eager to start a little army of hellraisers with you. 

[wisehq]

Mission Debrief: Chapter 43

...IT’S HAPPENING! IT’S HAPPENING! IT’S HAPPENING-!

Alright, before we get into it- full disclosure; the hivemind is in full swing at the Operation Strix discord server, so pretty much anything I write here is going to be an amalgamation of all the conspiracy theories and reactions we vomited out as soon as the chapter dropped. On that same note, I think writing these the day after will start to be the norm. Just so I have the chance to calm myself before going on a twenty-page tangent about everything Endo may or may not be planning.

Okay [deep breath] let’s get into it.

First, let’s start off with Franky, before we get into the juicy stuff.

When the chapter first started, I thought we were going to get backstory on Franky. Endo seemed to be alluding to this on his twitter page, and I was actually interested in possibly seeing more about his and Twilight’s relationship. Of course that didn’t end up happening; instead we got another side story about Franky trying to get some action by finding a lady’s lost cat, but seeing as how it’s Franky we’re talking about it seemed appropriate. Also, how can I be upset when-

The princess herself arrives! I gotta say, I loved the lightheartedness of most of this chapter. Yor’s always a delight, and pairing her together with Franky was a smart move on Endo’s part. They built off each other’s wackiness and I love this moment with the two of them. Just like with Twilight, we see that Franky genuinely wants to make the world a better place (and also get rich along the way) and Yor’s so impressed with him. I also liked that moment where Franky is surprised to find Yor still playing Loid’s wife even when he isn’t there- much like how he was with Anya while he was babysitting her. Just another little nod to the fact that he sees the Forger girls as being more than players in a game of elaborate house.

Then- just a quick thing before we get into what I know we all want to talk about- it’s interesting to me that Franky isn’t a one-man operation. He has a whole network of informants that he works with, and it makes sense that someone in his line of work has a many ears on the wall as possible. It’s a surefire way to stay plugged into the goings-on of the Ostanian underworld, unless of course...

...They get taken out by Garden.

AGHGHGHGHGH ALRIGHT, OK LET’S GO-

Garden. We finally have a name for Yor’s group now; we thought it was The Shop for the longest time, but apparently that’s only part of it. Yor alluded to this briefly back in ch. 29 when she described The Shop was being in charge of information gathering, and once their job was done it was Yor’s turn to come in and do the actual assassination. In this sense we see The Shop was being more of a support role in the same way that Franky is, though it’s still safe to assume the Shopkeeper is still in charge of both The Shop and Garden. At least for now- until we get more information to say otherwise, anyway.

Of course, the interesting thing is our silhouetted figures standing in this panel- not to mention the fact that Franky states that all the members are capable of taking on a whole troop of soldiers (for reference, a troop ranges between 9 and 100 men, though it usually hovers around 50). We know Yor is capable of doing this, but now that we also know the other assassins of Garden are as well, it begs the question; is Yor’s strength truly a unique thing in this world? And if it isn’t, what could be the source of it?

OSO-R, the drug used during the Tennis arc, was described as being in its trial stages. I originally chalked up it’s fast development time as just being part of manga logic, although I’m now starting to question that theory. It’s possible the roadmap for OSO-R has been around for much longer than first thought, and may find its traces back to when the war had just ended. Loid describes Garden as having been around for some time. We also know that Yor was just a child when she started up her assassination gig, so it’s possible that she and others like her may be have been exposed to a serum similar to OSO-R a decade or so before. Given Ostania’s track record of human experimentation, the scenario is possible.

Also going back to what Franky describes as “the shadow government”; it’s interesting that we’re hearing rumblings of a government operating outside the public’s view literally one chapter after we were just introduced to the concept of a royal class at some point in Ostania’s past. There’s a lot of things that cab be construed from this (such as Garden serving an authority that doesn’t necessarily align with Donovan and the government) but listing everything would just turn this review into one long-winded mess. So instead, we’re gonna entertain a fun theory- one that may or may not be true, but if it *does* end up being confirmed later on down that road, you heard it here first.

*ahem*

Mr. Green is a part of Garden.

Allow me to state my case.

When ch. 39 came out, I found it very unusual that a brand new character we haven’t seen before got a majority of the panel-time alongside Damian and the boys. It wasn’t very suspicious at the time, given that we’d just been introduced to Becky’s maid Martha, so we all just assumed Endo was building up his side characters a bit. For all intents and purposes, that may very well be the case.

However.

I know one person in particular who latched onto this panel right here, and for good reason; why would a security guard stationed at a school nowhere close to the border know about code words being used by people trying to cross over illegally? Yes, he was supposedly in the navy, but the way he phrases it here heavily implies that these code words are a recent affair, or at the very least are still being used currently. Why would he know that? Even if he was in the military, it’s information that has absolutely nothing to do with being in the navy.

Mr. Green is also very strong; strong enough to make the boys think they were going down rapids when in actuality it was just him rowing so fast. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever paddled a boat before, but it’s hard work- and it’s certainly difficult to the get that boat going at cruising speed, let alone fast enough to cause rapids. Yor’s the only one we’ve seen with strength like that and- yes, Green was supposedly in the navy, but at this point in time we don’t know anything else about him. We don’t know what he did after the war, nor do we know how he wound up in Eden Academy in the first place.

This is where we start going deep down the rabbit hole. Hang on.

This gentleman who we’ve never seen before is clearly aware that Garden exists, or at the very least is privy to Yor’s actual job. Much like how WISE has plants within Loid’s hospital, this man likely works to support Yor in some way. If such is the case, we can likely assume that- because the shadow government is supporting Garden- they would have their assassins posted in key areas for various reasons, likely to keep an eye out for traitors or to keep them spread out to cover a wide area should the need ever arise to deploy them.

We’ve only ever see Yor target traitorous politicians and outright terrorists (I realize this one is just a daydream, but you get my point). It would make sense, seeing as how she works at city hall and it would likely put her in an advantageous position when hunting them down. Of course, politicians aren’t the only people who might catch Garden’s attention. Given the amount of political and economic unrest that is currently going on in the country, there likely would be some people who would be fed up with the state of things. Such people may not be like Franklin Perkin- someone who would take direct action against the government- but instead would rather try to steer others towards a mindset that stands in opposition to Ostania. Such a person may try to target more impressionable people- people who are likely to listen and learn from an authority figure in their lives. People like...small children.

Eden students.

Garden. Eden. I see what you’re doing there, Endo.

Traitorous professors? Renegade academics? It would make sense to have a Garden assassin stationed at the most prestigious school in the country; the amount of information and contacts that are positioned around there are second to none, and what better way to suppress insurrection than at the source, at the very foundations of knowledge itself? Also, for kicks and giggles, let’s not forget that the name Mr. Green certainly fits with the plant motif Endo is going for with his assassin group (Garden. Thorn Princess. Briar. You catch my drift?)

Am I grasping at straws? Probably lol. I’d also like to reiterate that this is in no way all my thinking- a lot of crazy people put their brains together for this one, good or bad. But hey, it’s about all we can do until the next chapter! And at the very least, it’s a lot of fun to wonder what-if!

Also, BONUS

...She’s coming.

[svtskneecaps]

you mean the world to me

(gender neutral) reader x wonwoo

genre: fluff + angst; words: 7k

(i’ve found i write for wonwoo in times of academic panic and if ever there was a time of academic panic, this is it)

You didn’t see Wonwoo at all on the morning everything changed. His side of the bed was empty when you got out of the shower, and your keys were missing from the hook. Maybe that was your first clue that something was up. His set still hung there innocently, the tiny bear charm you’d gotten him on your two year anniversary swinging lightly on the breeze from the AC unit.

You shrugged and picked up the keys. This wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed the wrong set, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

(your second clue was that the door was unlocked)

You called him on your lunch break to tease him about the keys, but it went to voicemail. That in itself wasn’t odd; usually if he was in a frenzy working on some idea he’d forget to check his phone, but it was sort of odd that it didn’t even ring.

You shrugged that off too. Maybe he forgot it at the apartment, and it died. He’d never forgotten it before, but there was a first time for everything.

You finally accepted something was wrong when you stopped by the bookstore with coffee and it was closed. And dark.

He always had the front light on when he was inside.

Hours later, as you paced around the apartment trying to work out whether or not to call the police, you heard the jangle of your keys in the lock. You swung the door open before he’d even unlocked it, heart in your throat.

“There you are! I was worried, where have you been, why weren’t you answering your phone?”

Your questions died in your throat as you looked him over. He looked exhausted.

“Wonwoo,” you said, softly, “are you okay?”

He visibly forced a smile. “Yeah,” he said.

You opened the door wider, and he hesitated before he came in. He hovered in the entryway, like a stranger in his own apartment (the one you picked out together).

You sat down on the couch, and he followed you to the living room, but he sat in the guest chair instead of his usual place beside you. He didn’t speak, just looked around the room as if he’d never been in it before. Finally, you were the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He looked at you, appearing to consider his words carefully (as he does, of course, he’s a songwriter).

“If you woke up in a stranger’s bed, in a life you don’t recognize, what would you do?”

You blinked. “Like those Hallmark movies?”

“Hallmark movies?”

“Yeah, it’s a huge trope in like the Christmas movies? Somebody runs into a Santa character and one way or another they make a wish and then Santa slaps them into an alternate universe where usually they’re married with several children or something, and they learn the true meaning of Christmas.” You made jazz hands.

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think Christmas is involved.”

“Are you saying you weren’t some rich businessman in your past life?” you teased. “I could see it, you know.”

“But if you were in that situation,” he pressed. “What would you do?”

You thought about that. “I guess I’d go with it,” you said. “Try to figure out who I am in the new life and make the most of it.”

“You wouldn’t try to go back?”

“I don’t see how I could figure it out, unless I recognized the Santa character on my initial run to all the places I used to know and talked to them about it.”

He groaned. “Please let’s not call them the Santa.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking until he smiled, and you relaxed.

“Well that’s what they are,” you defended, maybe a little too quickly, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Can they not be wish granters? Or guardian angels or something? Not all of the stories are to do with the true meaning of Christmas.”

You shrugged. “I know you’re the writer here but your storytelling experience pales in comparison to my extensive knowledge of Hallmark movie tropes.”

He leaned forward. “I’m a writer?”

You forced yourself to laugh like he was making a joke even though something in your chest went tight.

(he chose to sleep on the couch that night and even though you were upset that he wasn’t next to you in the bed, some strange part of you was glad for the distance)

You called out of work the next day to walk Wonwoo to the bookstore, citing stress at your significant other going missing for most of a day. Seungcheol was understanding, telling you not to worry, that he’d see you Monday.

Vernon was leaning against the wall by the door when you came up, messing with something on his phone.

“Hey,” he said, glancing at your partner. “I was worried; it’s not like you to be late.”

Wonwoo was quiet for an odd amount of time, long enough that you glanced over at him. He was staring at Vernon with some odd look in his eyes.

“We got a late start,” you finally answered for him. “After yesterday. . .” You coughed. “Anyway, you guys need any help setting up?”

“Probably, yeah, we just got a shipment of that new YA series the other day,” Vernon said. You step to one side, motioning Wonwoo up the steps to unlock the door. “Maybe you shelve those while I blow the dust off the front desk. She’s not used to being unused this long.”

You laughed, too loud. “It was a day.”

“I know, it was ages.”

(you didn’t comment on how Wonwoo had to try three keys from the ring before getting the door open, or how he looked at the inside of his own bookstore like it was a wondrous new place. Vernon didn’t seem to notice)

You dragged the box out to the shelves and started placing the books. Apparently Vernon had forgotten how well voices carried in the quiet space, because you could hear him speaking as if he were next to you when he said, “Hey, man, did you two fight?”

“What?”

You could imagine Vernon’s shrug, heard him fiddling with the crack in his phone case. “I don’t know, it’s just, usually you two are pretty much inseparable, but like, yesterday you totally go off the grid and now today there’s a whole sidewalk between you.” A floorboard creaked. “I know it’s probably not really my business, y’know since I just work the front desk and all, but, I thought I’d ask.”

The pause stretched out so long you found yourself frozen, breath caught in your lungs, hand hovering above the next book, waiting.

“I’m adjusting,” Wonwoo said finally. “I’m a different person than I was two days ago.”

It was an answer and a non-answer all at once and it implied more than it clarified. You picked up the book and slotted it onto its place in the shelf, above the carefully written label. You didn’t mention the conversation when you brought the box back. You made an excuse about going for coffee and bolted out the door.

(usually the bookstore felt welcoming, an extension of your significant other, but the atmosphere was stifling and foreign and you couldn’t stay)

Thankfully, Seokmin had the morning shift, and you arrived during a dead period. He was able to sit with you as you nursed your drink and fretted aloud over everything that happened.

“It’s like I blinked and he was a total stranger,” you said. “I don’t know what I did.”

“Maybe it wasn’t anything you did?” he offered. “Maybe he just changed.”

“It’s just so weird.” You cupped your hands around your drink. “I mean, I know people say that by the end of a long lasting relationship your significant other changes enough to be a bunch of different people, but it happened overnight. Like he went to sleep as a writer, and my--” you choke on boyfriend-- “significant other, and then he woke up and-- I mean aside from him still being named Wonwoo it’s like-- I don’t know who this man is anymore.”

“Maybe not,” Seokmin said agreeably.

“Wow,” you said, sipping your drink. “Stop hanging out with Jeonghan so much, you’re starting to sound like him.”

He laughed and nudged your shoulder. “What I’m saying is, maybe he feels strange and different, but that doesn’t have to matter. What matters is if you’re willing to find the pieces of him that you loved again. He can’t have changed that much underneath.”

He was right, no doubt. The awkward way Wonwoo had held himself the night before reminded you of the first time you’d ever really talked. He wasn’t so different, just undeveloped, like he’d jumped back in time. Like he’d crossed the multiverse from an existence where he’d never met you.

You could handle it. The situation was manageable. You could treat each interaction like you’d just met him for the first time. It could be easy, or it could be the hardest thing you’d ever faced, but you could handle it. Really.

(you texted Wonwoo asking if you should bring anything back for him and Vernon. his coffee order was different than the one you remembered)

You unlocked the door to the apartment that night. Wonwoo lingered in the hallway until you glanced back at him.

“You do anything at work today?” you asked.

He shook his head. “That office is a disaster. How did I ever find anything?”

You laughed, hanging up your keys. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying basically since we bought the place.” You almost nudged his shoulder as you passed him on your way to the kitchen, but stopped the thought before it became a motion. “Keys on the hook,” you directed, “before you forget where you set ‘em.”

It took him two tries to find the right hook, but he got it. “I had to spend most of the morning organizing everything,” he said. “There’s so much stuff in there.”

“Let the record show that I’ve been telling you this was how it was gonna end up for years.”

“That’s the most long-winded way to say ‘I told you so’ I’ve ever heard.”

“What can I say? I like the sound of my own voice.” You pulled ingredients from the cupboards. “You remember where the pans are?”

“No,” he said.

“Neat.”

Making the food was the only easy part. Sitting at the table, you were acutely aware of him, like every one of your senses was waiting for something major to happen. Nothing did, though; you ate dinner in near complete silence. It wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. The air between you felt charged like the static balls at a science fair. You wanted to bridge the gap.

Wonwoo wanted to take the couch again, but you refused.

“Your turn in the bed,” you said, shooing him away. “You and I both know that couch doesn’t do the back any favors, and it’s your apartment too.”

“You don’t have to, I can--”

“Mom said it’s my turn on the couch,” you said in a high pitched, nasal tone, and then snickered, halfheartedly throwing a pillow at him. It flopped on the floor halfway between you. “I’ll be fine.”

He hovered in the doorway a few moments more, but relented in the end. “Goodnight,” he said, and made to close the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, and then, “you mean the world to me.”

The door clicked shut. You scooped up the pillow again and dropped it and yourself on the couch.

(it really is back pain in all forms and you woke up with cramps in muscles you didn’t even know you had, but it was worth it. it was always worth it)

You spent the weekend dancing around him, like planets. Like stars. Like if you got too close it would end in catastrophe.

Sometimes you’d slip into a back and forth with him that felt so familiar you could almost forget that you hardly knew him anymore, until you’d reference an old memory and he’d give you a quizzical look. It would sting, except the old memories felt strange to you now too. You didn’t mind not thinking about them, if it meant he didn’t look at you like that. Like a stranger.

The stranger you were.

You returned to work Monday and Seungcheol swung by your desk.

“How’s your boyfriend?” he asked. “He feeling better?”

You ignored the part of your stomach that twisted hearing boyfriend (that was what he was, after all, or what he had been, before Thursday; it shouldn’t feel so strange).

“I think so,” you said, because he’d put his keys on the right hook without you needing to remind him and he knew where all the cooking utensils were without needing to ask you.

Seungcheol rested his arms on the top of your cubicle. “And you? How are you holding up?”

You felt like you were hanging on by a thread. “Fine, I think. Pretty well, all things considered.”

He looked at you with concealed concern, but seemed to understand. You didn’t want to talk about it at work, even if Seungcheol had been one of your closest friends in university.

“Well, give me a call if you ever want to talk about it,” he said, and then left, probably for his own desk.

You bolted the moment time ticked over for your lunch break.

You didn’t know if Wonwoo would want you swinging by. You didn’t know if he’d answer your call. You called anyway, even if your hands shook.

He picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” You wiped your palm on your shirt. “I’m out on lunch break; if you aren’t too busy maybe we could run get Chinese or something?”

There was a pause, and then, “Okay. Just let me make sure Vernon and Chan can handle the store.”

He met you out front, and you walked to the restaurant together.

It wasn’t too cold out, so you got the food to go and found a bench to sit at, watching people as they pass.

“You remember that game, where you pick somebody going by and try to guess what they’re doing?” you asked into the silence.

He hummed. “Maybe. Why, you want to do it now?”

You shrugged. “Might as well.”

Even though he’d seemed apprehensive, he took to the game quickly. He was the one to decide that the woman wearing heels with her paint splattered jeans was a street performer, on her way to meet up with the other members of her busking group. You countered that obviously, the man in the mask waiting impatiently to cross the street was on his way to manage a rambunctious group of idols.

“Can you imagine?” you asked, shaking your head. “Must be rough, having to keep some of those groups under control.”

Something odd tinged the edges of Wonwoo’s expression when you looked back over at him. You couldn’t tell what it was. You hadn’t been able to read his expressions for days. It should have scared you.

It didn’t.

“Must be rough,” he echoed, his voice hollow. You were caught between asking about it and pretending you hadn’t noticed when he pointed across the plaza at the fountain. “Bet that guy’s an idol.”

“Yeah?” You followed his hand to see a man standing by the fountain, staring up at the jets of water, his hands buried in the pockets of the long coat he wore.

“Yeah. He’s taking a break from the practice room to appreciate everything around him,” Wonwoo said. “He’s gonna go home to the other members of his group and they’re going to ask where he’s been and be worried.”

“What’s he going to tell them?”

Wonwoo leans back into the bench, and maybe a little bit into you.

“He’s going to tell them he was getting a new perspective,” he said. “That he’s seen life from a new angle. And. . .”

The silence stretched, but it was comfortable. His arm touched yours, resting there.

“And,” Wonwoo said, and his voice cracked, “that he missed them.”

You tore your gaze from the man at the fountain. Wonwoo stared into nothing, eyes wet.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t look at you as he nodded. Maybe that was for the best. You could feel tears building in your own eyes. You didn’t even know why.

You missed them too.

The alarm on your phone went off.

“Ah,” you said. “I should get back to work.”

You stood, ignoring the chill on your arm where his had been.

“I’ll see you back at the apartment, yeah?” you said.

He looked at you, that time, standing. “Yeah,” he said.

You threw out your trash and offered him your arm gallantly. “Would you allow me to walk you back, sir?”

He laughed and tossed his own trash, taking your arm. “Sure.”

You walked him all the way back to the store, where you swept off an imaginary hat and dipped into a grossly exaggerated bow. You heard him laugh, and when you came back up he was smiling (you would do anything to see him happy).

“Alright, you’ve done your job,” he said.

You place a dramatic hand on your chest. “Are you implying that I did all that out of a sense of moral obligation?”

He snickered. “Well, when you put it that way.”

Whatever expression had made its way onto your face made him laugh, his face lighting up as he reached out for the doorway to steady himself. You broke into a smile, heart beating a little faster.

“Okay, I gotta go before I’m late.” You almost wanted to hug him goodbye, but something stopped you. You settled for a quick wave. “You mean the world to me, okay? I’ll see you after work!”

Friday, Wonwoo came in and barely hung up his keys (on the right hook) before tipping himself over the arm of the couch to flop face first into the cushions with a deep groan. You stared at his limp form from the kitchen, a tiny smile forming on your face.

“So, how was work?” you asked.

He mumbled something into the couch that might’ve been, “Peachy.” He flipped over. “Some woman decided we should be a bookstore and a coffee shop and made sure we knew it.”

You wince. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.” He ground his hands into his eyes. “I spent half my morning making sure she wasn’t taking it out on Vernon or Chan.”

“Well, if she didn’t get the kids then it’s all good.” You set down the spoon and moved into the other room, leaning on the back of the couch. “Shame Seungkwan wasn’t there, he’d have given her a real piece of his mind.”

“I would have let him. Not like I even wanted her to buy anything after she said that.” Wonwoo dropped his hands, one arm falling off the side of the couch. He gazed up at you.

“She can keep her condescending cash to herself,” you agreed, and reached out to mess with his hair.

And drew back just as quickly, your hand hardly brushing his hair before hastily retreating to grip your leg. Why did you do that? It was wrong, it was all wrong. Your face burned. You didn’t know him well enough you’d known him for years he was a stranger you’d played with his hair all the time in university, even before you’d made it official it felt wrong to do it it felt wrong to pull away--

Wonwoo sat up. “Hey, everything okay?”

“--Yeah.” You shook your head. “Just-- head rush.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” You tore yourself away from the couch, making for the counter again and ignoring the sting on your leg where you dug in your nails. You could hear him trailing you.

Wonwoo leaned on the counter as you picked up the spoon. For a moment, you thought he’d press you again.

“So,” he said, “how was work?”

Of course he wouldn’t push. He was Wonwoo.

“Fine,” you said, stirring the ramen in the bowl. “Same old story, really, except everyone was talking about the company dinner party Sunday.”

Wonwoo blinked. “You didn’t tell me there was a dinner Sunday.”

You dashed the spoon through the noodles with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary. “I didn’t want to bother you. You know, since you haven’t been feeling well this week. It didn’t seem worth adding to your plate and it doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“It doesn’t seem like yours either.”

He was right; it wasn’t your scene. You always found yourself walking on eggshells every time, a glass of wine gripped in your hand that you never dared drink from out of fear of making a fool of yourself.

“It’s my job,” you said. Your next stir sent tiny dots of water into the air and you flinched back.

Wonwoo nudged you out of the way, taking up the spoon even as you pouted at him. “Well,” he said, “need a date?”

You blinked. “Are you volunteering?”

“Maybe,” he said. “You work for one of those fancy companies, right? They probably have all kinds of high society foods.”

“They do cover meal costs,” you admitted.

He scoffed. “And you were going to leave me eating ramen alone on my Sunday night?” He reached up and tousled your hair. “If you need moral support I’ll be there.”

Your heart swelled. “Jeon Wonwoo, you mean the world to me you godsend.”

He ducked his head, turning to the ramen again. “Hey, any guy would count himself lucky to be your plus one.” He nudged your elbow. “How about you grab a couple bowls out and we eat this on the couch? We can watch a movie or something.”

(you found your seat on the couch, your bowl nestled in your lap, and when he came to meet you he sat beside you)

Saturday you spent at the bookstore, shelving books, distracting Vernon, and waiting for Wonwoo to get off. Seungkwan stopped by with a deck of cards and in the spare moments between customers you played poker under the desk. Chan threatened to quit after you inexplicably bluffed him out of three rounds in a row. Vernon swore he wasn’t stacking the deck, you were just that good all of a sudden.

“It’s not possible for you to have gotten good at bluffing in under a week, it’s like you’re a totally different person,” Chan said, and he was joking but the sting and the familiarity of the words drained the blood from your face and you barely managed to play it off. The game continued, but without you.

Seokmin was sitting at a table in the coffeeshop flicking idly through a textbook. You ordered a drink and joined him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you said.

“Really? Because you only come in here alone when it isn’t.”

You huffed. “It’s nothing. I just needed an escape.” The bookstore felt more welcoming again, more like Wonwoo (Wonwoo with his arm touching yours on the bench, Wonwoo pressed against your side as you play fight over who gets to cook dinner, Wonwoo with his head on your shoulder as he sleeps through the emotional climax of Finding Dory, his breathing a steady breeze against your neck) but something in Chan’s words. . .

You’d recoiled.

“I’m not--” you gripped your cup, thinking carefully about your words. “I’m not a different person, am I?”

“As far as I know you’re the same person you’ve always been.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I mean-- have I changed, like-- my personality, my little ticks. Any of that?”

Seokmin looked at you (he always looked like he knew more than he said; probably it came from being top of his class all through school but still. . .). “Maybe,” he said. “I’d say you’re the same you, but maybe they knew a different you.”

Your head slipped to meet the table before you could catch it. “Seokmin you know I’m not smart enough for riddles.”

“It doesn’t have to be a riddle.” He laughed. “Everybody has a picture in their mind of everybody else, and it’s never the same as what actually exists.”

“Philosophy is ruining you,” you said. “Stop hanging out with Jeonghan, he’s turning you into a paradox.”

“What I’m saying is, just because someone thinks you’re different than you were, that doesn’t mean you actually are. Maybe you’ve just been different this whole time, and now they finally noticed.”

“Maybe.”

He had a point, once you stripped away the philosophic layers. It was just the phrasing.

It’s like you’re a totally different person. In under a week.

Last week, everything had changed.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but you sipped your coffee anyway. Seokmin asked about the company dinner, and you tried to forget about it.

You went shopping with Wonwoo after he closed up the store, trying to find something business casual for the dinner.

“And nothing in the closet would work for this because?” you asked, flicking through the rack of button ups.

“Because it’s a special occasion,” he said, holding a suit jacket against his chest and then hanging it up again. “We can’t wear anything we’ve already worn.”

You snorted. “What are we, movie stars on the red carpet?”

“No,” he said. “I mean, if you wanted, maybe, but no.” He glanced up. “Anytime is an excuse to treat ourselves.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You trailed your arm across a line of ties, letting the material fall over your finger. Your motion halted over a tie. “Oh, this’ll be impressive.” You held it up for him to see.

“Nice,” he said. “The bundles of bills will surely let your boss know you’re in this for what really matters.”

You pointed at him. “Exactly what I was thinking.” You looped it around your head, fingers pinching it together. “Maybe I could wear it like one of those guys in the post apocalyptic movies, that way they know I’m willing to go all the way.”

“Now you’re talking.” He hung up the jackets and came over, taking another tie off the rack, this one a soft coral pink. “Or maybe, you put this one on. . .”

He looped it around your neck and tied it properly.

“Where’d you learn how to tie a tie?” you asked, a laugh bubbling out of you.

“I felt bad making the stylists do it for me all the time,” he said, offhandedly.

The wrongness niggled at you.

You turned to the mirror nearby, playing with the ends of the tie. “I don’t know,” you said.

“What, you don’t like the color?”

“No, pink is a great color.” You surveyed yourself. “I just think I’d want a little more color to my outfit than a tie.”

“Of course,” Wonwoo said, moving to stand behind you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder as he studied your reflection. “You’re the business one, we want to make sure you pop.” His eyes lit up. “I know.”

He didn’t quite have it the first few times, but finally, after taking over a changing room and trying on enough outfits that the both of you had nearly filled the reject cart, you walked out of the store with your purchases on your arms.

You stopped for takeout on the way back, too tired to cook, and ate dinner in a comfortable silence, leaning against each other and the couch as the TV played the weather forecast. When he dozed off against your neck, you forced yourself up.

“Come on sleepyhead,” you said, pulling him up with you. He made a few affronted noises but didn’t argue as you stole his trash and stowed the leftovers in the fridge and all but carried him into the bedroom.

“Dramatic.” You clicked your tongue, dropping him in the bed and moving to grab your sleepwear and get changed. His hand caught your wrist.

“You don’t have to take the couch tonight,” he said, and his voice was much clearer now.

“Well I’m not about to let you take it,” you said. “It’s my turn.”

“No, I meant--” he cut himself off.

“Oh,” you said.

“If you want,” he said hurriedly. “If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Um-- if you’re okay with it,” you said, and your face burns and he looks kind of like he’s in the same boat and he drops your wrist.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, and made for the bathroom.

He was changed when you finished in the bathroom and you climbed into bed beside him. It was strange, sharing, even though you knew you’d done it before maybe. There was an ocean of bed between you that you didn’t dare cross.

You closed your eyes. “Goodnight, Wonwoo,” you said, the words echoing off the wall you faced instead of him. Then, quieter, “You mean the world to me.”

(it’s the best rest you’ve gotten in what feels like forever; you wake up in a tangle of limbs but neither of you are in a hurry to pull away)

You idled outside the building, picking at the sleeves of the shirt you’d picked out the day before.

“Ready?” Wonwoo asked, making eye contact. You nodded, eyes slipping down to rest on the pink tie, the same pink as you’d chosen your shirt to be. He held out his arm, like a gentleman, and you took it.

The room rented for the dinner is as stuffy as you expected. You made small talk with coworkers you’d only ever seen for five minutes at the printer, and played the people watching game with Wonwoo in hushed tones whenever you got a spare moment. Seungcheol swung by a few times to check in and spill a bit of corporate gossip in a hushed voice, both with and without Joshua by his side.

“It’s a game we play,” Seungcheol explained when Wonwoo asked about it. “We make small talk together, he sends me to ‘get drinks’ and then talks me up behind my back.” Seungcheol glanced over at Joshua, where he was chatting calmly with two members of the board of directors. “He’s really good at it.”

Your social battery died about halfway through, but you forced yourself to soldier on. It probably wouldn’t look good if you left early. Hopefully no one would notice as your responses grew shorter and your smiles more strained.

Wonwoo took your hand after you laughed a little too loud at a coworker’s joke, and then turned to you when they had said their goodbyes to do another sweep around the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “Is it time to go?”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t leave early.”

“We’ve been here more than half the time, I think we’re allowed.” He folded your hand between his, rubbing it soothingly. “We can use me as an excuse, say I got tired. Please don’t force yourself to stay; I can tell something’s wrong.”

You kind of wanted to cry, and you didn’t know if it was the stress of the evening or what. “I don’t deserve you,” you said.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged you in. “You deserve the world,” he said softly into your ear.

And then you left the party.

You stopped at the park, instead of going directly home, sitting at the fountain’s edge.

“You remember when we got takeout?” he asked.

You did. “When we first played the people watching game, right?” you asked, and stopped. That hadn’t been the first time; you’d played it all the time before hadn’t you?

“Yeah,” he said. “You dropped me off.”

“You got really into the game,” you said. “That idol guy’s backstory was impressively complex.”

He laughed, soft and fond, and yet also flat. Like there was a layer of irony you hadn’t caught.

“When you dropped me off at the bookstore, you said that-- you said ‘you mean the world to me’. And-- we’re dating, at least according to Vernon, and, this whole time you never said ‘I love you’.” He looked at you. “Why is that?”

You open your mouth, the answer of a shared back and forth you two had used since university sitting on your tongue, but it didn’t come out. You just closed your mouth.

Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t something you’d said since university. You-- hadn’t known him in university.

“I’m not sure,” you said, bewildered because it was true. Why did you say that?

“It’s just stuck with me,” he said. “Ever since that first day, when I didn’t--” he cut himself off. “It was like I’d been dropped into this world from another one,” he said. “I didn’t know anything, and-- you were a total stranger.”

Another world. Total stranger. The words vibrated against the walls of your skull. You’d thought of him like a stranger too, even though you knew him. At least you thought you did. But you didn’t know him in university, you didn’t know him at all.

“But, as time went by, and I got time to know you, I realized something,” he said, and he took your hand in both of his. “And I don’t think we’re strangers anymore.”

Strangers, you were strangers. What had you thought, that first day? How did you even know it as the first day, beyond Wonwoo’s strange actions? You weren’t thinking of it like the first day of Wonwoo. It was the first day at all. You didn’t know him.

“I guess. . .” he trailed off. “I guess what I want to say, is just that I. . .”

He wasn’t your housemate or your boyfriend or the guy you knew from the frat. He wasn’t-- he was--

Oh god.

You tore your hand from his.

Everything went deathly silent.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Seokmin’s voice rang out.

Your head jerked up.

Time had frozen around you. Wonwoo still sat by the fountain, looking in your direction with an expression of distress, his hand reaching after you. You scrambled back. He didn’t move.

“I guess this means you figured it out?” Seokmin asked.

You looked at him. “What have I done?”

“A wish was made,” he said. “I granted it.”

You blinked. A flash, staring up into the sky from the window; “I wish I could tell him what he means,” you said to the stars, “every night. I wish I could tell him, he means the world to me.”

“You’re Santa.”

Seokmin made a face. “I’m with Wonwoo, let’s not call it that.”

“And Wonwoo knew the whole time that this was wrong?” you asked. He nodded. “Why? Why not me? It was my wish.”

He smiled. “Wishes don’t always work the way you expect them to.”

You shook your head. “Send him back now.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why Seokmin, just do it!”

He blinked at you. “For the record, I’m not actually Seokmin. I’m just borrowing his appearance, to keep an eye on you.”

You dug your fingers into the dirt, like a reminder it was still there. “And Seungcheol? Vernon? Chan?”

“Projections. Every person you’ve met here is a projection.”

“At least you didn’t abduct them.” You stopped. “At least I didn’t.” You shook your head. “But it’s done now. You have to send him back. He didn’t ask to be here, he didn’t want to be here!”

“And if he doesn’t want to go back?”

“Of course he wants to go back!” you shout. “Have you not seen the way he cares for the members? You said you were keeping an eye on us, did you miss that day at the park? He misses them! And I dragged him away!” You shoot to your feet, throat beginning to close up. “You have to fix this-- I have to fix this!”

The thing which was not Seokmin looked at you. “Don’t you wonder what he was going to say to you, before everything clicked?”

You swallowed. “Whatever it was, it was built on a lie. And it’s a lie I refuse to keep living.”

Not-Seokmin shrugged. “Then turn and look him in the eyes and wish everything back,” he said.

You did.

(if you cried when you woke up in a single bed you recognized as truly your own, you were the only one to know)

Wonwoo was oddly quiet in broadcasts from that point on. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk about him anymore. Someone asked you on Twitter if you had something against him.

No, you’d responded, he just reminds me of a recent ex. Every time I see him I think about them and it’s just too painful right now. I don’t hate Wonwoo.

Two days later, the Seventeen Twitter account dmed you.

I need to talk to you.

You sent, I’m sorry.

You deactivated.

You almost gave away your concert tickets, but you’d been planning on going with a friend before everything and you wouldn’t let them down. You went despite all your misgivings. With the stage lights on full blast, there was no way he’d be able to see you in the audience. You were safe, with your seats halfway up the concert hall, half a mile from the stage.

And then Seventeen, in the middle of their set, hopped off the stage, into the audience.

You’d wondered why certain aisles had a security detail around them.

If it wasn’t the middle of a song, you’d ask the people farther down the row to switch with you but you didn’t dare move around; it had been drilled into you that doing so during a performance was disrespectful. You were the seat on the aisle, and Wonwoo was on his way up, his eyes scanning the crowd with a sharp determination even as he continued his verse flawlessly.

Would looking away be more conspicuous than staring?

Should you jump to blend with the energy of the crowd, or freeze so he didn’t look?

It didn’t matter.

He’d seen you.

He took the stairs two, three at a time, stopping on the landing beside you, turning to face the rest of the hall again as his verse finished, and then he glanced at you.

The spotlight shone on his face.

“Please don’t leave,” he mouthed, or maybe said, but the combined roar of the crowd and the blood rushing in your ears drowned it out completely.

And then he turned to complete the performance, leaving a few fans looking at you wistfully.

(several of them came up after the concert to congratulate you, to gush about how lucky you were, to speculate about what happened and laugh about it; blessedly no one was openly rude about it)

You sat on the edge of a fountain, in the plaza a block from the back door of the concert hall, fidgeting with your sleeves. You didn’t know if you were crazy. You probably were crazy, waiting for him. He’d be livid. He had to be livid. He’d never forgive you.

But whatever closure would mean for him, you’d give it to him.

Anything.

The back door of the concert hall slammed open and a figure came bolting out towards you. They skidded to a halt at the edge of the fountain, and you could see Wonwoo’s eyes over the mask.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to stay,” he said.

“I wasn’t either.”

“I’m glad you did.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain. “I really need to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, before he could get upset.

He blinked. “For what?”

“For making the stupid wish and dragging you into an alternate universe, and then not even remembering doing it.” You rubbed your arm, staring at the brickwork. “I mean I was basically gaslighting you the entire time.”

“I know you didn’t mean it,” he said.

You toed the crack between two stones. “What all do you know?”

“How that world worked. How I got there. How I got back.” You saw him move, reaching out like he was going to take your hand, and then stopping himself in the middle. “I’m not upset with you.”

“You should be.” The words dropped out of your mouth. “You should hate me. You-- I basically ruined your life.”

“You didn’t ruin my life, you showed me what I was missing,” he said. “You remember when we played that people watching game? What I said about that man?”

You picked at a loose thread in your sleeve. “He. . . he was taking a break from the practice room.”

You saw him nod from the corner of your eye. “And I said he was getting a new perspective.”

“He’s seeing life from a new angle,” you said.

“It was as much my wish as it was yours,” Wonwoo said. “I felt lost. I didn’t know where to go next or what to focus on, and it wasn’t something the members could help with, but it was something you could help with. And you did.”

You felt numb. A wish was made. Not-Seokmin had given one last riddle, one you were finally understanding.

“You add a dimension to my life that I was missing,” he said. “Just, please-- please don’t leave me again.”

You looked at him, finally, sitting there on the edge of the fountain, his hair a mess from the performance.

“I didn’t want to leave,” you said. “I just-- I had to let you go.”

“You don’t have to here,” he said. “I know I don’t run a bookstore, and we didn’t meet in college, but--”

“I didn’t fall for you because you ran a bookstore,” you said. “The bookstore was window dressing. You’re you no matter what career you have.”

On impulse, you reached out. He met you in the middle and you laced your fingers through his.

“I love you,” you said.

He clasped his other hand around yours and lifted it to his lips, his eyes squeezed up in such overwhelming happiness you thought you’d cry.

“I love you too.”

[messy-does-cosmology]

Astrophysics Tools for Research and Data Analysis!

Hi guys, I've been wanting to make a post about how to use various data analysis and research tools for astrophysics, because I had a pretty hands-off supervisor and had to figure things out myself, with my research partner, or by asking academics I knew (like my friend Will). So, this is going to be a quick rundown of how to find data catalogues, download them, and analyse them (using Topcat), and then also how to use search tools like the SDSS and SIMBAD. There is not going to be anything in here about finding research papers, or search terms for google scholar, because firstly I am a noob with those and secondly because there are already beautiful, detailed posts about that. This is specifically for when you want to get some data, analyse it, and search for sources in other catalogues.

First up: how do I find my data?

Well, we use VizieR.

This is a nice, sexy, unintuitive website where you can search for various data catalogues and download them. For this, you will probably want to already know what catalogue you want by the time you get there, so I would recommend reading around. The simplest way to do that is to search on google: "[instrument name] [source type] catalogue" and read whatever papers come up. For example, you might be looking in radio, at the FIRST survey, and decide you want to look at blazar data. So you should google "FIRST radio survey blazar catalogue" and see what comes up. You are going to want to eventually know as much as possible about your catalogue's selection criteria, and what it's specs are, but for now you can start by just skimming the paper and searching it up in VizieR.

Your next step is actually finding the catalogues.

VizieR looks like this, and you should be able to find your survey by typing in its name into the little search box you see here. Next, when you have searched and been able to find your survey, clicking on it should lead you to a page like this one:

The important thing here, is to switch some stuff under the preferences heading. If you're using Topcat, you want to switch the HTML table to a VOTable, and you want to switch the maximum number of rows from 50 to unlimited. This will allow you to download the full catalogue. I suspect that if you are using Python or RStudio for data analysis, you probably want to keep it in the HTML format.

So once you have your preferences looking like this, you click the "Submit" button in the bottom right of the page, and the table should start downloading.

Great! Now you have your data! How to analyse it though?

Use Topcat!

Topcat is a piece of software developed by Mark Taylor at Nottingham University, purely for the purpose of astrophysics data analysis. As a result of this, it has some really useful features and is in general much easier to use than writing your own code in, for example, Python.

Once you download Topcat, it might take some effort to get your computer to open it, because it is not by a verified developer. That being said, it is safe, so do what you can to get it open.

Loading it up, you should find yourself looking at a grey control panel. On the left will be a blank list of tables, and next to that will be a blank space, and above all of that there will be a toolbar. The first thing you want to do is load your table into Topcat.

So, to do that, you want to click on the left-most button on the toolbar, the one shaped like a file. There, you click "system browser" and go through your files and find the VOTable you downloaded from VizieR (unless you renamed it, it will be called VOTable). This will load your data in. Now, your table list should include your VOTable data. When you have this selected in the main panel, you can use different toolbar buttons to either look at the table itself or visualise the data. Full disclosure, I am not that seasoned with using Topcat's most advanced features, so if you need to know how to use them, I would recommend checking out Mark Taylor's video tutorial here.

For the basics, the first 3 buttons in the toolbar are used to import and export data, the next 6 buttons are used to look at the table, and the following 6 buttons are used to represent the data in graphs. After that, the next 3 buttons are used to: 1- match tables and combine them to make a new table, 2- query remote databases, 3- crossmatch sources against remote tables based on their sky position.

The most important buttons are the 4th one from the left, the 11th button along, and probably the one used for matching tables (it looks like a pair of matchsticks. Get it?). The 4th one allows you to look at and search through your tables, and the 11th one allows you to represent your data on a non-bar graph.

I won't go into a lot of depth here about how to use these 2-3 really important buttons, but if you have questions you can message me and I will try to answer!

Finally, what do you do if you find a source you think you want to investigate further, how do you find out more information about it?

Use SIMBAD, SDSS and other search tools!!

This is my final bit, so hang in there.

There are really convenient search tools for you to look up your sources in, and they all seemingly provide different things. SIMBAD has a bunch of different catalogues loaded into it, including transient catalogues, and you can input the location of your source, and it will either tell you what it thinks it is, or it will tell you what is nearby to your source's location. So firstly, you can find SIMBAD here, and when you go to that link, you should see this:

There are different query methods. You can search by coordinates, criteria, or identifier, so if you have the information for where the source is or what it's called, it should be not too hard to find what you're looking for.

I'm starting with an identifier query for M31, the Andromeda galaxy, just to show you how it works for a well-known, well-defined source:

You can see that SIMBAD has given me data about this source, including a little view of it on the sky, and what it's called and what it is. It has some information about the object's speed and its magnitude in different bands. Andromeda is probably one of the most observed galaxies ever, so there is a lot of information here.

Searching for a more obscure source yields fewer results, with less information about the sources and less certainty that the sources have been correctly identified.

This was a coordinate search for a source I have looked at in WISE data, and it says that there is not an accepted exact match for this source, but that the closest registered object is a white dwarf candidate 0.31 arcseconds away. I can click on that candidate and be provided with a page of information like I was for Andromeda, but with less concrete data. The source I'm searching for is actually an AGN candidate, but it is so un-researched that it simply doesn't show up as anything useful.

Our next thing is the SDSS, the sloan digital sky survey. This contains a lot of spectra for different sources, and does not tend to tell you about nearby sources. For the SDSS, you have to know the RA and DEC of your source in degrees, which is a little annoying. You can find them usually by looking in your table on Topcat.

The SDSS honestly looks like a kid's dress up game from mathgames dot com, but it's an actual serious tool. Sigh. The most important thing is to NOT USE this page at all, and to instead click the little "explore" link under the DR16 logo. That should look like this:

As you can see, this is a bunch of information about the source it automatically highlighted. It's useful info, but you probably don't want to know about this source. You probably want to find your own source here. So, to do that you have to click "search" on the left hand side, which should add these search boxes to the top of the page:

Here, you put in the RA and Dec, and then press the "Go" button next to it. This should give you an info page, like the one above, but with YOUR source. Otherwise, it will give you an error message saying it doesn't know where your source is and it doesn't have a record of it. That's ok, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist, but it could mean that this source is not documented in other large catalogues.

Well, that's all folks! Good luck!

[stickynotesandstress]

Red Flags in Class Syllabi

Hello, here I am with another post full of advice for university and like most of my posts, it comes from personal experience. A little backstory on this: my first year of university, there was this theatre class I was in where everyone had already become friends or knew each other from high school drama festivals. We always had to do group work where we chose our own groups and I was always alone and did everything in my power to pretend like I wasn’t without the prof noticing. I was miserable and had had multiple panic attacks during or because of that class. However, I was a first year former gifted student who didn’t want to switch classes. I hit a breaking point one night when I was sobbing on the phone to my mom and she made me get up and drop the class. At that point, it was too late to register for one in its place and I am in my third year now, taking 6 courses online during a global pandemic to make up the credits so I can graduate on time. Ever since that experience, if I’ve had any major doubts about a class, I drop it without hesitation as soon as possible so I still have time to register for a new class. In fact, this semester alone, I dropped three classes and switched to new ones. Here are some red flags in course syllabi/things profs say during the first class

1. Group projects. We are in university, everyone, we are paying thousands of dollars for this and we should not be paying that much money for our grades to depend on others. Of course, and this applies to all of the red flags on the list, if the class in necessary for your degree (has happened to me a few times) sometimes you have to suck it up. Still, if you can drop the class without it messing up your degree, I would recommend it, especially right now when most people are fully online because group projects based completely online are even more hellish.

2. If a professor makes a point about how they don’t or hardly ever give As. This one is obvious. These profs like to make shit difficult for no reason and think they’re waaay more important than they really are. Most “I don’t give As” profs that I’ve had have been pretentious assholes.

3. Similarly, if a professor is bragging about how hard their class is/saying that you will likely fail. They are bragging about how bad they are at their job. They are there to teach you and if they advertise that all these people have failed their class, they aren’t trying hard enough. Also usually pretentious as fuck too.

4. If you miss more than two classes, you will fail the class. I’m not talking about profs having attendance policies, that is fine. What I’m referring to is the ones who take it to the extreme. I’ve seen syllabi where profs will fail you, despite all your other hard work, if you miss more than two classes. Like, it’s an automatic fail. It’s not worth the stress.

5. Any class where participation is worth more than 20% (and that’s pushing it). That shit is not fair to the shy students, students with social anxiety, and students who don’t like public speaking. Your work should be the basis for most of your grade, not whatever bullshit answer to class questions you come up with. I’m not a big fan of participation grades in general but to make them worth that much is not ideal (unless you’re not shy and extroverted and don’t have social anxiety, if so, I’m definitely jealous).

6. Workload. I’m not talking about amount of assignments (though if there are a whole lot, you might want to switch, you know what you can handle), I’m talking about readings every week. I dropped a class this semester because the prof said that every week we would have 60+ pages of readings a week which, according to him, wasn’t a lot. These readings for for a polisci class so it was all dense academic articles and government documents (snore) and I didn’t need the class for my degree. When you have a full class load with readings and actual assignments for all of those classes, a class assigning that many pages a week is a red flag especially when the prof doesn’t think it’s a lot. They will pile on the work.

7. Not listing all assignments in the syllabus. This is my pet peeve and I’m in two classes where we don’t know when assignments are due or what they are. This is a red flag as you need to be able to plan assignments and write dates down, especially in university. Surprise assignments and tests are the worst and set students up to fail.

8. Any time a prof/syllabus says “this class will change your life” or some variation of that. These professors are the most obnoxious people and none of the classes I’ve taken that did change my life ever told me so over and over again. 

9. Any class with busywork as homework. By busywork, I mean homework on the online part of the textbook, exercises from the textbook, stuff like that. This is high school level stuff and you don’t learn anything from it. Also because they use the online quizzes that come with the textbook, that means you have to buy a brand new textbook to get that code so there will be no money saving here. I once had to spend $200 on a LOOSE LEAF textbook (they only offered it in that format) just to use the online quizzes. The whole class was like getting in a time machine and going back to high school.

10. If your first class is full of students and your second class has significantly less, that is a warning sign that they might have picked up on something you didn’t. Take another look at that syllabus and pay close attention to the prof that class and make your decision after that. 

11. Check Rate My Professor!!! I cannot stress this enough. Some of the negative reviews are obviously people just mad they got a bad grade, but when students who got high marks are complaining, there is a problem. Take them with a grain of salt until you actually go to the first class, but make sure to read them before class so you know what to look out for. Also, in general, make sure to add your own ratings for profs while you’re there, both positive and negative because it really helps. I go to a really small school so our RMP reviews are limited so I do my best to post about each of my professors to add more. 

12. Know yourself. If you’re first year, this might be more challenging, but you know how you learn best. If all of the assessment methods in a class are things you know you struggle with (multiple choice tests, short answer tests, exams worth 60% of your grade, long papers, research papers, etc.), use your head and make the right decision for you. If you suck at multiple choice tests and force yourself to take a class where that is all you do, it will be hell. If you choose classes based on assessment method, it will help your GPA, I promise you. I get better at selecting courses every year because I learn myself and what I’m best at and I have raised my GPA (not a whole lot, but usually by a decimal point) every semester because I am constantly learning what is best for me. 

[moonlightserenadeeznutz]

luna for the headcanons thing pls pls pls

Yes!!! I love giving Luna headcanons, so here ya go bestie!

(Read under cut)

Luna Lovegood headcanons

First of all, definitely a trans girl, no doubt about that. She lived in a very open environment and was able to explore her gender identity at a young age. Her mother sewed her dresses to wear, long, flowing garments that Luna thought were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Her father taught her how to make flower crowns and crowns of leaves, and she’d wear them with her dresses.

She didn’t have to come out to her parents. Her femininity at a young age simply led to her simply stating that she was a girl, and that her name was Luna. Her parents were very accepting (and Xenophilius is trans himself because fuck you of course he is, so he was super supportive of Luna).

She named herself after the moon because her parents loved astrology and they taught her all the different planets and their moons, and all the different stars in the sky and how to spot the constellations.

The Lovegoods were definitely pagan, I mean they were all about nature and spirituality. They always marked every single holiday, staying up all night on the solstices, lighting huge bonfires, and making wreaths to wear. Pandora played the lyre, Xenophilius sang songs and Luna would act out stories and poems.

Cornish, and they speak the language as well because being bilingual is sexy.

Speaking of pagan, Pandora’s funeral would have also been pagan, obviously.

She’d have a natural burial, and Luna would recite a poem, and the rest of the family would also give eulogies, recite poetry, or thank the Goddess. Four members- including Xenophilius and Luna- would stand at each point on the compass and “invoke” each element (Air in the East, Fire in the South, Water in the West and Earth in the North) and give thanks to them. There would also be music at the wake, played by members of the family. Drums, tambourines, flutes etc. Luna played her mother’s favourite song on her lyre.

When she reached Hogwarts, I don’t think she was drawn to anyone in particular right away, I think she had better relationships with the teachers more than the students. She got on really well with Professor Sprout, and I think Hagrid really liked her too, because they’d talk about all the different magical creatures together, and Luna would tell him about all the creatures her and her father wrote about in the Quibbler.

Academically, she was very smart, and did well in most of her classes, but she didn’t particularly find a lot of them overtly interesting to her, unless she was able to put her own twist to it, which usually she wasn’t. In Potions, she wasn’t able to brew her own stuff, make up recipes, or use a variation of the recipe. Snape was much too strict with her and as a result, she didn’t do very well, which made her more upset than she would let on since she had been really good at potions at home.

She particularly shone in third year, since she was able to take classes more suited to her, like Astrology and Divination. Astrology was her favourite of course, and she’d talk about it all the time with Ginny.

However, in third year she also became particularly interested in DADA, mainly because she formed a strong friendship with Professor Lupin. Remus had been informed that Luna was trans, and since he is as well, they had things in common, and were able to talk about it with each other, Remus sort of taking Luna under his wing a little. They���d sit in his office and drink tea and Luna would give him copies of the Quibbler, which he’d happily read.

Luna was actually the first to figure out that Remus was a werewolf, but she didn’t tell anyone, not even him. She didn’t think it was her secret to share, nor did she think it changed anything. But she did find it fascinating, and read a lot of books on lycanthropy. After Remus had left, Luna told him that she knew and she asked if she could write some articles about it in the Quibbler, to raise awareness, or if he’d like to write any articles. Remus agreed to let her write something, and she wrote a three page article about werewolf inequality (but careful not to mention Remus by name). She did interview him about it, and he said that he was proud of being a werewolf, that it was actually very cool at times, but that it was simply wizarding society that had forced him to be ashamed. She wrote all this down, and it became the most bought copy of the Quibbler, as lots of students at Hogwarts wanted to read it, and they shared it with their friends and parents. So despite Remus not being able to come back to Hogwarts as a teacher, he did receive tons of letters in support of him from parents and students who had read the article and put two and two together.

Friends with Ginny by third year! Luna actually took a while to warm up to Ginny, thinking she was this loud, athletic, snobbish type, but then Luna got to know her and realised that she wasn’t that at all. Ginny was loud, but in a contagious laughter sort of way, and she could be very quiet and calm when she wanted to. She was athletic, but chatted animatedly about Quidditch teams, and Luna couldn’t help but listen. And she wasn’t snobbish, quite the opposite. She was the only person who listened to Luna, and discussed her ideas rather than swat them away impatiently. Luna made Ginny flower crowns, and Ginny stayed up with her all night during solstices. They became very close.

Ginny was the first student at Hogwarts that Luna told about being trans, and Ginny came out to her as being bisexual. And they were very supportive of each other, as well as being great at keeping each other’s secrets. They trusted each other with their lives, and would always stand up for the other. If Luna was getting picked on, Ginny would go feral and start fights. Although she eventually stopped, since it made Luna more upset. So she stuck to just being there for Luna (and maybe slipping a potion into bullies’ morning pumpkin juice that made them cluck like a chicken. But Luna didn’t need to know about that...)

That being said, Luna could get angry too of course. When she heard an older girl make fun of Ginny behind Ginny’s back, Luna wordlessly went up to her turned the girl’s hair blue with a wave of her wand. Ginny laughed her head off when she found out.

It was through Luna’s bond with Ginny, that she realised that she wasn’t interested in either the romantic or sexual side of relationships. At first she assumed that it was because Ginny was a girl, and she may not be attracted to girls, but it got her thinking about boys too, about everyone. And she just didn’t want that sort of relationship with anyone. She loved her platonic relationship with Ginny, and that’s how she wanted all of her relationships to be like.

I feel like she also had a close bond with Neville, and they gave each other plants as birthday gifts.

Projecting a little bit here, but Luna with Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder, spending hours by herself making up fantasies and constructing worlds in her head, making up new characters, and getting so invested in them that she regularly saw herself as her characters. I feel like this started because of the trauma from losing her mother. She didn’t tell anyone about it, or at least nothing in detail, but she tried to explain it a bit to Ginny, who knew to leave her alone when Luna would sit by herself.

MaD also made Luna a little more detached from her gender identity, especially if she was acting as one of her characters (again I’m projecting here) who were either male or genderless. She still identified as female, but in a much more looser, fluid way, and even experimented with she/they pronouns, which she eventually decided she liked. (If this were set in the modern world, I can also imagine her using neopronouns such as xe/xer or fae/faeself, though in the canon world, she may have also tried out it/its).

Doesn’t know much about the muggle world, but Hermione gave them a copy of Alice In Wonderland which they loved. And if I were to headcanon Luna liking a muggle band/artist they’d probably like anything psychedelic or nature-like, maybe the early stuff of Pink Floyd (yes, Dev, I’m thinking about Atom Heart Mother).

Went travelling after Hogwarts, where she met Rolf Scamander, and they hit it off immediately. Very similar to each other, and soon became close friends. I also headcanon Rolf as aro/ace so their relationship basically became like Luna’s and Ginny’s.

Their house was filled with all sorts of plants and animals. Rooms were lined with trees filled with Bowtruckles, and owls flitted in and out of windows, cats slinking about the place, so many frogs. My god, their house was wonderful.

Adopted Lorcan and Lysander because ffs not everyone has to have a nuclear family jkr 🙄. And parents also don’t have to be romantically or sexually involved with each other either; Luna and Rolf had a good relationship, both wanted to be parents, so they raised the twin boys together. And Lorcan and Lysander had a fantastic childhood, can you imAGINE?!

Godmother of Lily Luna, obviously. And Harry and Ginny’s kids loved going round Luna’s place, so more often than not, the house was filled with not only the entire natural world, but also a bunch of children running about the place.

Oh also, Luna has nymph ancestors. They just do, okay?