#also had to discuss a paper at a lab meeting and have been doing SO much data plotting..... paper discussion was rough (i dont think any of

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 2 224

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: First meeting and training discussions Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

Duke was running out of fumes to run on. Last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it of during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they need to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two ours left.

Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too...

Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.

It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.

When loud screech of timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.

"Oh, you're awake," white haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross legged just few feets away from him. She wore something that could only be described as an unholy mix of lab safety hazmat and skintight workout jumpsuit, white and black. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante? "Good, I just returned from snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.

"What?"

Girl shrugged, take out from BatBurger in her hand.

"You look like you have a bad day if not few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries," as she spoke, second take out bag, 1 quart bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of same size and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.

"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. Noone else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.

"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to speed of sound," So, clearly a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has bad few days he often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."

Duke was not going to look gift horse in teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.

"Thank you..." he trailed off, hoping that girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.

"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has different purpose," she explained instead, slightly muffled because of fries in her mouth, "This" she gestured towards fast food meal "is to sooth your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to sooth your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised bottle of juice, "is to sooth your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to sooth your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that," she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?

"No, I'm not," he confessed bewildered.

"Good"

For a long moment they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.

He was finishing his part of brownies when girl spoke up again.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah" he was a little surprised to realize that it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"

"Don't mention it," she shrugged with general gesture of dismissal, "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote, "she did honest to God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't only one. Anyway as he said 'As only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has celebrity crush on you," she slurped more juice, unbothered.

Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took split second to consider addressing... this whole situation and choose not to. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.

"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.

"Dani" she corrected" with an I"

"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I," She giggled, nodding her head slightly.

"It's nice to meet you too Signal"

Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.

"I have to get back to my patrol"

"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.

"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him," she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before," she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature and other waves she excluded but for regular people she would be no different than surrounding air.

"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."

She popped back to visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.

"I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."

It was ten god damn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop mugging in such a short time?!

Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.

"I haven't seen it-" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity energy he could muster "-so I don't know how you fight or even what powers do you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare faced lie, Bat training made sure of that but he knew for fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.

Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?

Oh no.

Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration she nodded with a defeated sigh.

Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.

"Wha-"

She just shushed, raising finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quietened.

"I have enhanced hearing," she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."

"Let's go then," he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.

"After this you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"

"Okay"

It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.

And afterwards he was going to lock himself in his room until sky falls down or he was well rested.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

********

"Hey kid," Signal started, dropping from fire escape to cuff weirdo in clown mask who Dani just fought. He did it deliberately slowly to show her how to do it like he always did. She choose to not be to annoyed at being called kid again and noted to herself to come up with good codename later. All her previous ideas apparently weren't cutting it and she couldn't keep going by Dani because reasons.

"Yes?"

"Who gave you a combat training?" he asked getting up from a crouch and gesturing towards roof. So it's going to be longer talk, okay.

"My cousin," well, Flashes in Central taught her some stuff but it was more rescue and reassure type of deal not punch and kick, Sam tried to get her through basics of psychological warfare in activism, Tucker sweared he would teach her some programming and hacking but never got around to it, Jazz did some emotional training and Val offered to teach her Red Huntress skills when she got back, but yeah, all in all, Danny was the one to show her how to punch people. Even though it was more of 'shit we have to fight, observe maybe, idk' most of the time. She picked some tricks from Vlad too now that she thought about it, not that she planned to give him any credit for it, like, ever. "Why?"

"I have a bone to pick with him," vigilante announced, melting with the shadows. Dani sped as much as she could to beat him to the roof. She was competitive spirit like that.

Unfortunately he was first. She made another note to herself (she was so going to forget them in next five to ten minutes) to train her speed a bit more. She got tips from the guy with the title of The Fastest Man Alive for crying out loud, she shouldn't loose with the person who technically doesn't even have superspeed!

Signal sat cross legged on the gravel and tossed her a healthy granola bar. He kept doing it for some reason.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but almost everything in your fighting technique is horrible. Your cousin did shitty job as a teacher" he started in warm slightly teasing tone. Dani felt attacked anyway.

"It's not like he has any sort of training either," she started, trying to sound nonchalant, rolling her eyes. "Cut him some slack," She bit a snack in attempt to cover her furry. It had chocolate and raspberries, was quite tasty and she was kinda hungry anyway. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how Signal knew it though "Everything he learned is from the trial and error by crashing through a few walls. Quite hard to care about 'technique'. I at least got his mistakes to learn from so don't you dare to speak about him like that!" alright, she lost it, she can admit it. But, Signal might be cool and Danny may or may not like him (she hoped he didn't, Val was much better option) but Gotham's hero had no right to say anything bad about her template. He didn't know anything. He didn't understand.

Signal looked like he was going to say something so she put her ghostly vocal cords to use and growled.

Don't-harm-family/will-fight/ protect-mine/don't-you-dare

She didn't stop to consider how unlikely it was for him to understand her. She crossed her hands on her chest, glaring.

Turned out, growl was enough of the warning. He carefully picked his next words.

"Sorry, it's not the way I should've phrase it," he started, his mouth doing the thing it did when people were embarrassed with themselves but in an uncomfortable, a bit angry way. He understood his mistake, good. She calmed her glare a bit. "I wasn't aware of you circumstances. If you want, I can show you some tricks, Batman is very throughout with his training"

"No, thank you, I'm good" she was still mad. So mad. And she was not pouting.

"Of course you're good but you can be better, more efficient."

"No." Whatever Signal would propose to her, she wouldn't agree. He said mean things about Danny not even a minute before. She couldn't let him have it on a principle!

"I'll give you a cookie after every training," he pleaded "The homemade, tasty one"

Well, that changed things. A lot of things.

"Yes please!"

He apologized anyway.

********************

Second part

I know democratic winner in poll for now is "publish all at once" and believe me, I respect democracy, especially now that I finally have rights to do things, but Tumblr wouldn't let me. Too long or something. So, it'll be in parts, sorry guys. I'll try to post all of the parts this weekend though (or one each day, I'll see).

Yes, I didn't have a name for this fic until five minutes ago, how did you know? It's quite alright though, I think. If you have better idea I may reconsider

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he doesn't even know it yet #not fully at least #Dani: I'm going Goth(am) #Danny: Maybe don't? #Dani: Nah #Danny: Stay safe? #Dani: Alright *imprints on the first hero she sees* #this random mugger Dani stopped: Last thing I saw was feral racoon child #police officer: what? #almost mugging victim: I was saved by said feral racoon child #police officer: What?! #Dani: Alright. Good deed for today done. They're calling my name in BatBurger to get my stuff. See ya! #Dani: I hope I can make it back before Signal wakes up #Police guy&mugger&victim: Did she kidnap our hero??? #Dani: *fights* #Duke: With all due respect. How did you survive this long?! *died inside a little bit from stress* #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

[tanzdoesthings]

Birthdays

for the Ancient AU. Five Pebbles and Seven Red Suns celebrates a birthday.

a gift for @ardienothesieno !

“I thought you didn’t do birth-cycles?” Pebbles said as he tilted his head and looked to Suns. His cup clinked against the smooth table, drink sloshing a bit, letting the ice clink against the straw. The room was filled with the low hum of conversation, casual and yet refined. Suns fit in better than Pebbles ever did.

They sipped their drink, as poised as the cycle they met, embodying a silent holiness that Pebbles could never dream of achieving. “No, it is not my usual style,” they reply, “but it seemed valuable to celebrate.”

Void below. What is he supposed to say to… this? All of this! Seven Red Suns taking time out of their busy schedule just to take him out to lunch? He’s an artist and lab tech, for wyrm’s sake, and yet they continue to meet, discussing anything under the sun, and then lower as well. Religion, philosophy, paintings, life, their work on the lifeblood of their civilization. Turning Spires is activating soon, and they’re here. Celebrating his birthcycle.

“Pebbles?” they prompt, bringing him back to the moment. “Is everything alright?”

He nods, taking another sip of his drink. “Just thinking about all that’s happened.”

They raise their glass in agreement, tipping it towards him and then taking another sip. “It’s incredible, really. We always wonder if the cycle has us trapped, and here we are, celebrating it.”

“Tradition, I suppose,” he contemplates, holding the cup on the table.

Suns seems to have noticed the oddities, to his dismay. “We don’t have to celebrate here, you know. I thought it would be nice to take you up here, but you seem… uncomfortable.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious, Suns,” he bites back, harder than he really meant to.

Smoothly, always elegantly, in a single motion, Suns sets their cup on the table, taking Pebbles by the arm and pulling. He almost falls, but manages to keep step with his friend. They travel down the elevator, out onto the street, moving between the flowing crowd.

It takes until they are standing in front of the rolling door to Pebble’s workshop that he realizes what Suns is doing. “Hey- I thought you said no work today!”

Suns unlocks the door. They’ve known the code for many cycles now. “Where do you keep your paints? And an apron, preferably.”

Little Pebbles, standing in the doorway where he was left, stares. “You want to paint?”

“It’s your birthday, yes? You enjoy doing this. I want you to show me.”

It takes another moment before Pebbles snaps back into action, collecting two aprons and moving to hang his mask on the hook- until he remembered Suns was also there. Should he take off his mask-? It would be more difficult to paint with it on- would it be weird?

Maybe it would, except Suns had moved behind him, taking an apron in one hand and holding their own mask in the other, hanging it. Oh. He tries to stop thinking, pulling off his own mask and hanging it side by side. They are smiling at him- have they always been? Their eyes are so vibrant- focus. Paint. Cans are pulled from the cabinet, nozzles fitted and set in front of a blank wall in the workshop.

“It will take some getting used to,” he says, picking up a red can and shaking. “Keep your hand moving, or else the paint will pool and drip.” A piece of paper is handed to Suns, and they reach down to pick up another can. Purple.

They shake it as well, trying a few sprays across the paper. The first two drip, but the third is relatively even. Pebbles watches, and void below is it different having Suns in this workshop. They’re tall, he’s always known this, but even without the mask Suns towers over him. He nods at the test sprays, pointing to the wall.

“We start with a sketch. This will get covered up later, but it’s good reference.” He takes a deep breath, stepping up to the wall. Scholar symbol. That will do. It’s bubbly and big, and Suns moves to add some pearls in around the character.

“Is this good?”

He’s always painted alone, this is so different. It’s good. “Yes, very. I like the way it frames the subject.”

Five Pebbles gets into the rhythm of painting. Shake-shake-shake, spray. Step back, see the big picture. Next color. Repeat. Suns works on the pearls, and they almost glow on the wall, colors weaving together. They’re picking this up well.

“You’re quick,” Suns observes, adding gold to one of the pearls.

“I’ve done this for a long time,” he replies.

More painting. Outlines are added, highlights giving emphasis to the shapes. Suns steps back at this point, letting their friend finish the work.

He steps back, dropping the near-empty canister on the ground. “Well. We did it.”

“Thank you Pebbles.”

“Oh-“ He really had needed to get something on this wall, this had just been a good excuse to-

Suns puts their hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

He nods. It was still so surreal to see Suns without their mask, but there they went, picking the cans up off his floor. He hastily followed, putting caps back on and throwing out the empty ones. It all cleaned up quickly, and they both returned to the cabinet to put away the cans and aprons.

“It’s a shame we must wear these bulky masks and not be able to properly appreciate all the artwork on the walls.” Suns states as they pick up their mask, inspecting it before putting it back on.

“Yeah.”

Suns glances to Pebbles. “Let’s get home. It’s been a long day. Oh- send Moon my regards! I’m still writing a response to her last message,” they laugh, standing and walking to the door.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure she knows.” He follows suit, closing the door behind the two and locking it.

Many cycles later, when he’s running for his life, he’s going to come in this workshop, looking for supplies. He’s going to see the mural, made with the one who set him up to fail. The burns on his hands, his face, all from the void fluid that Suns gave him. And he is going to swallow his despair, and run.

Run far away.

#rain world #rw ancients au #five pebbles #seven red suns #rw five pebbles #rw seven red suns #rw sunstone #five pebbles x seven red suns #rw shipping #tanz talks #i have said this before. i’m not a maassive shipper but this is fun to explore #tanz art #writings #if i need to tag this let me know

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova and her father. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

SUMMARY: Bellova gets her revenge, but also comes to a heart-wrenching realization.

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, a good amount of angst

A/n: Buckle up y’all ;) Also, I recommend listening to Vigilante Shit, I Did Something Bad, and/or get him back! while reading this chapter.

“Come in.”

Bellova opened the door to Dean Highbottom’s office, swiftly shutting it behind her. 

“Ah, Miss Reginelle,” he said, setting down his papers. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the rest of the students?”

She smiled dryly. “I’ve come to speak with you about a very important matter. I believe that the integrity of the Games have been tainted by cheating.”

He raised an eyebrow, folding his hands on his desk. “Go on.”

Bellova walked towards him, making sure to maintain her flawless posture and calm expression. “I know for a fact that Coriolanus Snow visited Dr. Gaul’s laboratory right before the snake mutations were released to attack the tributes. And I am almost certain that they were held there before being sent to the arena.”

Dean Highbottom nodded. “They were indeed.”

“See, being one of Dr. Gaul’s most favored students, she had discussed this particular breed of mutated snakes with me before. She told me that they would not attack any being who’s scent they have been introduced to before. Because of his…conveniently timed visit to her office, I believe Coriolanus slipped something with Lucy Gray’s scent into the snake enclosure before they were sent off. That is why she was able to survive their attack.” 

There was silence for a moment as the dean processed her accusation.

“I see,” he said. “I will look into it, for you have given me plausible reasoning to investigate. Is there anything else you think I should know?”

Bellova grinned. 

‘Sorry, Coryo,’ she thought. ‘Say goodbye to your temporary glory.’ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coriolanus was puzzled when he was torn away from the celebration and told to report to Dr. Gaul’s lab to meet Dean Highbottom. Perhaps the idiotic old man had finally come to his senses and wanted to apologize for his constant harassment. 

As he walked through the Academy accompanied by two Peacekeepers, he smiled at the thought of the dean begging for forgiveness. How he would love to see him grovel like a pathetic fool.

Then, he heard footsteps up ahead. Bellova was walking towards him, her ruby-red lips curled into a cruel smile.

As she passed by him, she murmured something so quietly that Coriolanus almost missed it. But when he processed what she’d said, he knew he’d never forget it.

“I hope you know you brought this on yourself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bellova arrived home, she went straight to her room. She felt nauseous and dizzy, climbing up the grand staircase clumsily and almost slipping several times. She stumbled into her bedroom, and collapsed onto her luxurious canopy bed. 

The full weight of what she’d done hit her like a pile of bricks. 

She ruined Coriolanus’s life. 

He would never recover from this. Who knows where he’s end up? Maybe in prison, maybe an Avox if Highbottom was harsh enough, or maybe somewhere in one of the least powerful districts. Either way, she was sure he would never set foot in the Capitol again.

Maybe she should’ve waited a few days before going to Highbottom to expose him. It was hasty to snitch on him right away, but at the time, it felt right. But now, she wasn’t so sure.

She buried her face in her crimson red pillow, resisting the urge to scream. 

Why had Coriolanus done what he had done? He was never sympathetic towards the districts like Sejanus Plinth. What made Lucy Gray so special? She was just another district animal, and yet Coriolanus had done everything in his power to ensure her survival. She knew he wanted to win the Plinth Prize, which required that the recipient was the mentor of the winning tribute, but stooping as low as cheating? It was such a desperate move that Bellova briefly wondered if he had gone mad.

‘No,’ she thought. ‘Not mad. Utterly insane.’ 

As the hours passed, she slowly came to accept the truth: 

Coriolanus Snow had fallen in love with Lucy Gray Baird. 

A single tear slipped down her cheek. There was a stabbing pain in her chest, which grew worse as she began to sob. 

What did a no-name district runt have that she, a Capitol heiress, did not? 

What made him fall in love with her instead?

There was no use in continuing to lie to herself, not with him gone forever. 

She loved Coriolanus Snow. 

She always had. And she thought he would eventually grow to love her too. But she was foolish to believe that. It was childish to believe they were meant for each other.

Her miserable thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on her door gently. Hastily wiping her tears and fixing her messy hair, she croaked, “Come in.”

She expected it to be her maid, or maybe even one of her friends. Instead, her father walked through the door, holding a tray that held her favorite foods. 

Bellova instantly burst into tears again. 

Julio Reginelle frowned as he saw his normally composed daughter shaking, her knees pulled to her chest. “I heard that you haven’t emerged from your room since arriving home. What happened?”

He placed the tray on her bedside table and sat at the foot of her bed. 

She sniffled. “I don’t know if I should tell you. You’ll be angry at me.” 

He placed a hand on her shoulder gently. “I promise I won’t. It is more important for you to be honest with me.”

Bellova internally winced at the thought of discussing feelings of love with her father. Especially because of exactly who she loved. 

Her father raised an eyebrow, gesturing for her to speak. 

With a trembling voice, she confessed what had happened earlier that day. She told him how she’d turned Coriolanus in to the dean, therefore ruining his future career and aspirations. Finally, she told him about her recently realized romantic feelings towards the young Snow heir. 

Her father sighed. “I am not angry at you, Bellova. You are a young woman, feelings are inevitable. I can see why you are angry Coriolanus. He chose someone over you.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry to say this, but no-one with the surname Snow should ever be trusted. His father was a snake too.”

Bellova cocked her head. “How so?”

“Crassus was an arrogant, overconfident fool. He was the most insufferable student at the Academy while we were attending together. If he didn’t have the top score on something, we would hear about it for weeks on end.”

Bellova laughed. That sounded just like Coriolanus. 

“And…” her father paused. “He was the original creator of the Hunger Games.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Casca Highbottom was distraught when Crassus, his closest friend at the time, took his drunken joke to Dr. Gaul, who embraced the idea immediately. Casca never forgave Crassus, and their friendship was destroyed.”

“How do you know about this? This has got to be one of the most well-kept secrets in Panem.”

Her father gave her a wry smile. “I overheard Crassus bragging about it to his eventual wife. She didn’t seem pleased, but never spoke up against it. I think she was too afraid to.”

Bellova grimaced. She would never let any future husband of hers walk all over her in that way.

“Now, as for you turning Snow in, you did the right thing. Cheating should never go unpunished, especially in something as important as the Hunger Games.”

Bellova leaned back against her pillows. “I know. But in telling the dean, I’ve sent him away forever. I’ll never see him again.”

Her father hummed. “Maybe that’s for the better.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s out of your life now. You can focus on other things: your career, your friends, your other aspirations. He will never be a hindrance to you again.”

Bellova sighed. “You’re right. There’s more to life than a pathetic boy who gave up his future for a district girl.”

Her father smiled. “Exactly right.” He looked over at the tray of food. “Please make sure to eat tonight, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow. I’m permitting you to skip school, because I plan to bring you with me to a conference in the Jubilee Convention Center.”

Bellova smiled. “That sounds lovely, thank you.” 

He stood up, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll leave you to rest now, my dear. Sweet dreams.” 

As soon as her father left, she placed the tray on her lap and began to eat. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until right then. 

After a relaxing evening of self-care, Bellova laid in bed, staring up at her chandelier that twinkled in the moonlight. 

Her love for Coriolanus would die eventually, she was sure of it. It was already starting to fade, slowly being replaced by contempt. He really wasn’t good enough for her. He was no real gentlemen, despite him parading around pretending to be one with his roses and faux charming smile. And he was too sensitive to make it in the world of politics. Sure, he put up a cold facade, but she knew that hurtful words got under his skin easily. 

No matter how handsome or intelligent he was, he’d never be a good match for her. If they were ever to marry, they would fight far too often, and ultimately, it would be a failure. 

Bellova closed her eyes, pulling her soft covers over her body and finally allowing herself to truly relax.

As she slipped into sleep, a quote from one of her favorite novels crossed her mind, making her smile.

“It is snow’s destiny to fall: that is what it is made for.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This is the end of Part 1, but there will be at least two more parts in the series! Stay tuned for the first installation of Part 2!

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow x oc #original character #thg prequel #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dean highbottom

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Paper Rings

James Wilson x peds!reader

description - there's never a break when you're a doctor, someone is always in need. No matter what you have planned for the evening.

Or

Wilson has a ring but y/n has a patient.

requested - yes

word count - 1.5k

authors note - obviously inspired by 'Paper Rings' by Taylor Swift. I am just falling in love with this story of this pair and I am looking forward to writing even more. But I would love to know how much viewership my fics are getting so please if you read it and like it - interact!

Masterlist

Requests open - here

-x-x-x-x-x-

*wilsons pov*

My hands just couldn’t stay still and felt the need to flick each finger constantly. Maybe they were nervous for what they knew they would be holding in a few minutes. I brought my hand down to my pocket, confirming the square shape that could be felt from outside the fabric.

I’d planned it all perfectly. Her favourite restaurant, the flowers. Even the new dress and shoes she currently adorned. She sat across from me looking as beautiful as ever. Her lips moved as she passionately discussed the recent case she’d been consulting on, but I couldn’t register any sound that escaped as I got lost in her eyes. I was mesmerised by her lips and the way they seemed to kiss each word that escaped them. Her hair looked unbelievably soft and I knew the subtle coconut smell that seeped through each lock. She was perfect. And she was mine.

“I’m so glad were doing this. As much as I love takeout and cuddling on the couch in sweats, it’s nice to dress up once in a while. Well, anything is better than scrubs.” She laugh melodiously.

“Well, you look very beautiful.”

“You think I look beautiful in scrubs.” She laughed incredulously.

“Well, you do, and super sexy.” I bit my lip thinking about my girl in those scrubs that fit her body like a glove. Hair scraped back, too focused on saving lives to worry about how it looks. It’s like knowing my girl is a superhero and seeing her in her costume; just so powerful and unbelievably sexy.

I’m knocked out of my thoughts when she leans over to caress my hand. “You need to stop that or we won’t make it to dessert.”

“I’m actually in the mood for something hot and sweet tonight.” She winked like the minx she is.

“I do have an ulterior motive for tonight.”

“If House walks in, I’m leaving right now-“

“No, he’s at a monster truck rally. I bought the tickets especially.”

“Good, we don’t need a repeat of last time. It’s like having a toddler with the humour of a 12-year-old boy.”

“Anyways as I was saying—”

A crashing sound reverberates around the whole restaurant and both our heads snap towards a table where a young boy had collapsed, pulling the table cloth with him. His mother jumps up to catch her son as he falls. She shrieks at the events that just transpired in front of her eyes. The mum yells and the dad announces to the restaurant…

“IS ANYONE HERE A DOCTOR?”

In perfect synchronisation, y/n and I rise to attention and both announce.

“We’re doctors.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Y/n has just finished talking to the boy as the morphine takes him to sleep. She is still wearing her sleek black dress and red pumps, only now they’re covered by her lab coat. Is she trying to kill me. I join her, having also given up my dress coat for a lab coat. I couldn’t deny, we looked powerful together. Dressed to the nines, whilst saving a boy’s life.

“Simple allergic reaction.”

“Peanuts?”

“No, egg. I’ve never seen it develop this late.”

“Well, the parents are vegetarians so there’s a chance he’d never been exposed to it until now.”

“Thank god we were there.”

“No. Thank god you were there.” I lean down to kiss her nose as she scrunches it up. I love when she does that, she’s like a little bunny.

We walk towards the parents who have not stopped pacing since they entered the hospital. The mother hurriedly approaches us to meet us in the middle, whilst the father’s head remains hanging low.

“Mr and Mrs Carmichael, there is nothing to worry about, your son is fine now. He had an allergic reaction to egg. I’m going to write you a prescription for an epi pen but I recommend staying away from eggs altogether. Ooh I actually have an amazing birthday cake recipe that doesn’t use eggs in my office, I’ll go get it now.” I look on lovingly as she teeters down the corridor as fast as her heels could take her.

Mrs Carmichael laughs whilst wiping away the tears that fell in relief. Mr Carmichael shakes my hand whilst his wife composes herself once again.

“Thank you so much. Seriously, I mean I dread to think what would have happened if you and your wife hadn’t been there.”

“Oh she’s not my wife, but I’d really like her to be.”

“Well, we may have only known you guys for a few hours but I highly doubt she’d say no.” He patted me on the back and went to follow his wife who was slowly gravitating towards her sons room. I suddenly remembered that I was a doctor and had a patient.

“Oh yes, we want to keep your son in overnight for observation but you can take him home tomorrow.”

“Can I stay with him? I don’t want him to be alone when he wakes up.” his mother asked, her eyes never leaving her boy.

I soften my voice to reply. “Of course. I’ll set you up a makeshift bed.”

Mr Carmichael rubs his wifes back soothingly and guides her into the room.

“I’ll go home and make up a bag for you and him. I’ll be an hour tops.” He kisses her head and leaves her to sit down next to her son.

In that moment, I had never been more sure of what I was about to do.

-x-x-x-x-x-

I stand in the door of her office and I just watch on as she is standing on her desk trying to look amongst the multitude of toys and pictures on her shelves.

“I swear I saw the recipe just last week!”

“Honey, as much as I love this sight you’re gonna hurt yourself.” I make my way over and grip her waist to lift her down from the dangerous position. She grumbled but let me lift her anyway. I think she just likes it when I hold her, especially around her waist. She turns around in my arms.

“How are they?”

“The mum is gonna stay overnight and the dad went home to pack a bag for her.”

“We should get some sheets and pillows for her, she’s gonna be so uncomfortable.”

“Already done. She said it was comfy but I think she was just being nice.”

“Or 3 hours of pure stress worrying about her child meant hospital chairs and a few pillows did sound inviting.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I scanned every inch of her face to commit it to memory, as if it was the last time I’d ever see her face. She giggled, feeling bashful under my gaze.

“What did you want to say? At the restaurant, you were about to say something.”

“Oh yeah,” I was jerked back into reality. “I wanted to say that I never in my life thought I would meet anyone like you. As sweet as you, as kind as you, as smart as you. And, even when I met you, I never in a million years thought I deserved you. I know my history doesn’t exactly give me a stellar record, but I think on some level I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. For you. So—” As I finished, I began to feel around my pockets. The less I found, the quicker I checked. Damn it! My jacket was still at the restaurant.

A lightbulb went off and I sprinted away to look in her craft boxes. After a few minutes I turned back towards her. I got down on one knee.

“Dr y/n y/l/n, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” I presented to her a ring made out of two pink and red pipe cleaners twisted together.

Tears fell down her face and mixed in with her soft giggles.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!” She threw herself down onto me so we both tumbled to the floor. She was on top of me, and we both scrambled to fit the pipe cleaner ring on her finger.

“I’m sorry it’s not a proper ring. It was in my jacket that I left at the restaurant, but I couldn’t wait a second longer without asking you-“ She met my lips in a deep kiss.

She pulled away ever so softly and whispered.

“You could have asked me with paper rings, and I would still marry you Dr James Wilson.”

“So, about dessert?” I raised my eyebrows suggestively.

-x-x-x-x-x-

We were cuddled up on her office couch, our bodies covered up with a single sheet. She admired the ring that still sat on her finger despite our activities.

“Just think soon we’ll no longer be Dr y/n y/l/n and Dr James Wilson and we will become Dr y/n y/l/n and Dr James Wilson.”

“No Wilson?” I laughed whilst stroking the smooth skin of her arm.

“That MD and PHD is mine, you’ve got your own.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

#dr james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #house md #james wilson #dr james wilson x peds!reader #house x wilson #dr house #dr house x reader #house x reader #james wilson x peds!reader #robert sean leonard is an amazing an underrated actor #robert sean leonard imagine #robert sean leonard x reader #robert sean leonard #neil perry #neil perry x reader #dps #house x cameron #house x cuddy #Youtube

[maxybabyy]

It’s almost half past eight when the door opens and breaks Max’s focus.

Usually, people don’t come into this room. It’s too noisy, too hot when it isn’t completely freezing outside.

Lewis comes by occasionally, uses the nanodrop for his DNA samples. But his project is on the tail-end, and he’s too deep in the writing phase to even be on the lab cleaning rota. Max knows he was meant to stay, that Toto wanted to build a part of the group around him and his expertise. But funding runs out quickly; what was hot five years ago, may as well be old news today.

But it’s Daniel who pokes his head in, smile wide as he spots Max in the corner.

“There you are, Maxy.” He says, pushes the chair closer to Max before sitting down. “Alex said you’d left, but your stuff was still in the office, so.”

He doesn’t have a lab coat on, but always he doesn’t wear it. Max doesn’t know still if it’s an Australian thing, or because he is a pharmacist maybe, but also Oscar does it.

“But I have my gloves on today, Maxy.” Daniel said yesterday when Max had commented on it, trying not to stare at the lovely white tee shirt Daniel had been wearing. He wiggled his fingers as a tease, the bright pink gloves Seb had brought as a joke. He would have to at least be a large to escape the bright blue nitrile hell Max and the other mediums were saddled with. “Don’t get used to it though, just Oscar’s apparently shit at aliquoting piss I’ve learnt.”

“So what are we doing tonight, Max?” Daniel asks now. He is sitting on the chair the wrong way; elbows on the back of it with his chin in his hand. He couldn’t sit like that, Max thinks, at least not for very long. Not like Daniel can, like he does in their shared meetings when Christian and Zak remember they have a grant together.

“The university said the power would be out for a while tomorrow, so I of course have to shut down the MS,” Max says, huffs when he has to turn back to the computer.

The email had come Wednesday night, barely any information except for the notice of a power outage within eighty hours. Max had used the reply-all function to tell them to go suck an egg, turned off his phone and gone for a run.

Checo should of course be the one to do this, senior to Max in every way but one. But last time Sergio had been in charge of shutting down the systems, Max had come in the next day unable to complete calibration, and they had to replace two different parts.

It’s a new instrument too, and always he can be – the mass spectrometer can be a bit fussy when you have to shut it down. But Max has been working with mass spec since undergrad, was the second author on GP’s Nature Communications paper. Had come to Christian’s lab for this very instrument, so he of course knows it best.

“Always they say we are a part of a core facility, and still, they do this,” Max says. He’s already discussed it with GP and Jonathan how it isn’t okay, with the facility manager who hasn’t touched probably a mass spectrometer in his life. 

Daniel also hasn’t worked with MS by himself before, but he would of course understand, would know it isn’t okay to do this.

“Was the Friday bar alright?” Max asks. He had gone too for a bit, shared the last dregs of gin with Charles, pouring the tonic directly into the bottle to get the most of it. “George said he made a quiz, but to me it sounded very boring. There was a part, I think, where you had to spell out chemicals’ names.”

Daniel laughs, and it sounds so loud in their tiny room for two. Daniel has of course always had a very lovely laugh, but it sounds even better like this. The two of them only. Max likes it like that the best.

“Yeah ah, George kinda went to town on the goon sack instead,” he says. “I reckon Alex had to carry him home.”

“George drank the wine?” Max asks. “No! But that is so old, it’s been in the fridge since Liam graduated.”

“He went for the sangria too, it wasn’t even good fresh.”

“Always George should not be in charge of this, of drinking and parties,” Max says, remembers the nightmare his grad party had been. “You are of course very good at it, how to make it a good night.”

“You think so?” Daniel says, soft, hesitant. Max looks up from the instrument with a frown, touches Daniel’s hand where it’s been hovering in the air, like he didn’t know if he could touch him. Always he can. Max should tell him this, maybe.

“Yes, Daniel.”

“Then, would you go somewhere with me tonight?” He asks, closes his hand around Max’s. It’s different to work like this, one-handed and typing slow. But Max doesn’t want to pull away, keeps his hand in the warmth of Daniel’s.

“I think I am too tired for the club, Daniel.” Max says softly. He has gone before, after the Friday bar. But he cannot do it tonight, his body is too tired. He doesn’t think he would survive if he did, considers already if he should take the bus home and leave his bike behind.

But to his surprise, Daniel laughs, squeezes their hands together. “Nah, I was thinking we could maybe go get some food? You said you’ve been craving like, tacos, and I’ve found a place down by one of the bridges that I thought we could try. If you wanna, of course.” 

Daniel has only been in the city for five months, but already he has made friends in high places, in the low ones too. 

“I would love to, but always I don’t know how -“

“Hey, we’ll just leave whenever you’re done, no rush, Maxy.” Daniel says. 

Max nods, “Then it of course sounds very lovely. It will not be that much longer, I think.” 

“I’ll be here,” Daniel says softly. 

He pulls his hand from Max’s, the loss of touch, of warmth is sudden, but Max knew it would happen. But Daniel doesn’t leave. 

He doesn’t go back to the office to work on the paper Max knows has to be sent back with major revisions, doesn’t go over the postdoc application Zak isn’t supposed to know about. He pulls out his phone instead, plays one of those indie rock albums that Max has come to like. 

It’s very nice, Max thinks, his own earphones still dead in his ears. 

The MS does finally shut down, leaves the room almost quiet except for the music.  

They’re in the basement to get their bikes, Daniel will go in front because he knows where they’re going. He wears a helmet now too, one of those fancy Hövding airbags that will inflate if he crashes. 

“So I won’t mess up my hair, baby,” he had said, the collar loose around his neck when he came into the office to show it off. Max doesn’t care, thinks he looked cute in Max’s borrowed helmet, but this is good also. 

“Hey Maxy,” Daniel says now, one leg swung over the bike. “Would it be cool with you if this was a date instead?” 

Max almost stumbles over the pedals, but he doesn’t, corrects himself so he’s upright and staring at Daniel, who watches him back almost shyly. 

“It would of course be very lovely, I think, if this was a date,” he says, faint. 

Daniel's lips stretch into a wide grin, and Max cannot help but return it. 

“Cool, let’s do that then.”

#maxiel #max/daniel #maxiel fic #my fic #my writing #fic

[holewithinahole]

The Spirit’s in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [3/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: angst, non-native writer, non-beta’d

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

And here’s the end. I apologise in advance. It's funny despite how aromantic I am how I'm the best at romanticising relationships lmao. I wanted to explore how romantic relationsips are inherently different for neurodivergent people, especially ppl on the autism spectrum. Yeah...

The end is pretty cliché and I kinda hate it but hey, I live for the tropes. I'm gone, bye! Thank for reading this to its end!

At first, you haven’t been able to swing by the Ghostbusters headquarters as much as you would’ve liked, too busy assisting students for future exams. As Egon predicted, psychokinetic energy has kept rising in New York, meaning the three of them were called all the time to assist here and there. Their secretary – Janine Melnitz you learned when Egon introduced you, has been looking more and more like a ghost herself, and you were sincerely impressed by how much energy she still managed to conjure to send people away. All of that resulted in the hiring of a new member of the team, Winston Zeddmore, a gentle soul of a man who took the place of Egon on the field. It’s often easy to read: ‘I didn’t sign up for this bullshit’ on his face, but he’s resilient and hardworking which is everything the Ghostbusters could have needed and more.

A week after your fresh new meeting, you ended up telling Egon and Dr. Stantz about their research papers stored at your place. The latter had been delighted and thanked you profusely. The retrieval had gone without any incident, although you did notice the baffled look that passed between the two of them when they saw the several towers of boxes. (There had been a discreet comment from Egon questioning humans’ propensity to stack things.)  

Why you ended up at Egon’s place you have no idea. Well, you do know how – most of the files were his after all and you couldn’t let Dr. Stantz handle the walking up five flights of stairs on his own. Plus, Egon wanted to look back at some old papers of his; something about a new plan of approach concerning the storage facility issue. So, there you stood, looking around awkwardly as Dr. Stantz retrieved the last box downstairs. It was a simple apartment, messy and not intended to be anything more than an occasional place to sleep – or, surprisingly, a fungus breeding farm.

Your questioning gaze certainly didn’t go unnoticed. “I collect spores and fungi,” he explained.

“Neat.” You didn’t really think before you carried on, “Is that why you studied microbiology?”

“…amongst other things,” Egon said, looking slightly surprised. “I didn’t realize you knew.”

“Uh,” you trailed off. “I’ve read your papers.”

“All of them?”

Can it get any more embarrassing than that? “…might have.”

He didn’t answer and you thanked him internally for it. The visit was short and to the point, Egon clearly looking uncomfortable having other people trespass into his space. That’s what you kept telling yourself anyway, not especially fond of diving back into the whole ‘I’m an embarrassment to myself, him, and society’ spiral.

In itself, routine didn’t change much. You kept doing most of your research at the university, exchanging with the different professors of the lab, giving your opinions on the students’ ongoing thesis and avoiding Dean Yaeger. Then, you’d meet with the doctors after work to discuss the improvements of the containment facility. But the more the days went by, the more Egon’s temper seemed to flare. Not in the usual, explosive or passive-aggressive nature but in the dwindling of words, and the psychosomatic tremor of his eyelid. You hadn’t been truly able to understand why, when, or how.

Which led you to your actual predicament.

“I don’t think it’ll work, Egon.”

Sitting at a desk, you scratch an equation, staring dejectedly at the example of ‘ionization radiation decay meter’ Egon sketched. The man himself has taken his glasses off and pressed his eyes to alleviate his migraine. “We’ll have to include the system later,” he concedes, looking crossed. “I have to analyze today’s samples.”

After downing the cup of cold coffee you forgot on the desk with a disgusted grimace, you slouch on your chair. You watch Egon from the corner of your eye, busy staring and typing on his computer. He lets out an uncharacteristic annoyed noise.

“Not good?” you ask.

“Like I thought, it’s exponential.” He sighs. “Two days ago, PKE was three times less important than today.”

“Something big on the horizon.”

“Yes,” he says.

This tense atmosphere has you overly cautious as if one wrong word could make this artificial veil of normalcy shatter. It makes your skin crawl, inadequately feeling like your mere presence is making things worse. Leaving his computer behind to sit on the couch, he browses through the results he printed. His tiredness is noticeable even from where you are. You’re about to say something when Venkman comes waltzing in, his energy clashing with the general atmosphere of the room, which he notices immediately.

“Well, well,” he says in a singsong tone. “Who are we burying today?”

Egon doesn’t grace him with an answer, only with a glare before looking back at his results.

“It’s been a long day, I guess,” you answer truthfully to loosen the tension.

Venkman, always in theatrics, opens his arms wide. “Look who we’ve got here! Hello there.” He has his usual smirk on. “You’ve been hanging ‘round here more often.”

“Hello, Dr. Venkman.” You smile. “Just trying to help Egon.”

“And why aren’t we on a first-name basis?”

You certainly don’t voice aloud that you don’t want to give him any ideas, which he gets well enough on his own. Egon, for its part, is frowning so hard his eyebrows have merged with the frame of his glasses. You can almost imagine a big molten hole where his eyes are boring through the paper.

“Egon kindly proposed,” you explain.

“Wow, you guys,” Venkman exclaims. You frown at him, confused. “Congrats, Spengie! Don’t forget the invitation.”

This snaps Egon out of his sulking trance, face hardening at Venkman’s inappropriate comment.

“He kindly offered,” you interject, trying your best to look unfazed at the innuendo and to avoid an act of crime against humanity. “You, however, take everything for granted.”

Venkman whistles – which makes you want to strangle him – but at least Egon doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at his throat from across the room anymore.

“Damn, snarky today, uh? Let’s start over then.” Despite his mocking tone, he walks near you and extends a hand that you look at dubiously. “Hi, the name’s Peter.”

A small part of you doesn’t want to shake his hand, just to rile him up but you still do. Strangely enough, there’s an endearing quality to his man, when he wants to.

“Nice to meet you, Peter.”

The man lets out a pleased chuckle. “Now, now, I’m not trying to get you two to leave but this man–” He tugs at his collar. “–has a date tonight and he will be singing in the shower. So, if you want some peace and quiet, now would be a good time to go play in the basement.”

You scoff. “You’ve got a date.”

Venkman seems either completely oblivious or completely disinterested in your tone. “With a sweet creature called Dana Barrett.”

“Don’t forget to ask her about Zuul, Peter,” Egon says, snapping out of his good ten minutes of selective mutism.

Venkman disappears into their common room. “Did I say date?” he shouts. “I meant work meeting.”

True to his words, he starts singing a bad rendition of Queen of Hearts, making sure to annoy the whole building. Even if it grates on your nerves, it’s fascinating to witness this clutter of a place, with such different personas stacked on top of each other. You’ve never heard the story of how the three of them ended up being best buddies and judging by Egon’s closed-up face, today wouldn’t be the day you ask.

After five minutes of excruciating vocalizations, he puts down his results, standing up from the couch. You eye him curiously. “Where’ you going?”

“The basement.”

You frown, standing up. “You know; I don’t think he was serious.”

“I have readings to do downstairs,” he answers shortly.

He walks towards the stairs but stops, pivoting slightly towards you without meeting your eyes. The prickling sensation at the back of your brain is back. You can’t wrap your head around the contrast between his high-strung demeanor and his unspoken invitation to follow him. The confusion suddenly feels too heavy.

“Egon.” He looks up and you’re not expecting the flatness of his expression, how detached he’s looking. “Are you angry?”

It sounds stupid in your own ears, a ridiculous childish question but it’s out of your mouth before you can think about it. Words are wonderful incentives, you think, but sometimes, they just end up pushing people away.

Egon frowns, still not entirely facing you. “No.”

“Then–”

Venkman comes back into the room, whistling loudly. “Still there, lovebirds?”

You turn to answer him but you’re cut off by the loud steps of Egon hurtling down the stairs, leaving you staring dumbly at the invisible trail he left behind. There’s an uncomfortable silence as you frown, heart beating loudly for a reason you can’t really pinpoint. Venkman stands there, undoubtedly conscious of having said the wrong thing.

“Don’t worry, he’s cranky when he doesn’t have his nap.”

You decide to simply gather your belongings and leave. “I’ll come back in a few days.”

Even if Venkman offers to buy you a taxi, you decide to use the subway and as you stare without seeing at the dirty walls of New York’s underground tunnels, you realize that perhaps you’re starting to care a little too much.

Just a tad too much.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Awakening of Gozer

Perhaps you shouldn’t have gone home that day.

For when you heard that in less than twenty-four hours, the Ghostbusters headquarters exploded and that a cloud of psychokinetic energy appeared above Manhattan, you felt that ‘are you angry’ were stupid words to say to somehow you might never see again.

You stand in front of your TV as journalists follow the Ghostbusters’ car through the streets of New York, crowd in a standing ovation. You feel restless as you look through your window, watching the sky turning dark and the full-blown light show the ghosts seem to be throwing downtown. Even when the black clouds dissipate – reminding everyone that it was barely three in the afternoon, you stare, left leg bouncy, at the screen for the final cry of the crowd, hoping, praying, that it’d be of joy.

You’re not truly sure of the feelings rushing through you when they leave this building, dirtied but alive. As soon as you see their proud faces, you turn off the TV, and lay down on the couch, breathing deeply. You close your eyes and contemplate the labyrinth of paths life could have taken in the last two hours. When ten p.m. rolls out, you stand up, driven by some unknown force out of your apartment. Somehow, the sky still holds the purple hues of the paranormal manifestation that plagued New York this evening, ribbons of ghost energy glowing like winter lights and casting discreet colors on the buildings. Tomorrow, you’ll look back at the usual grayish streaks of pollution and everything will feel like a long fever dream.

It’s silly the way the heart and the brain latch on to these human connections like they’re starving. It’s unfortunate, truly. Unfortunate how walking through the chill of the busy streets leads you to his place; a sanctum at the top of a dirty building. And it’s scary how unable you are to stay away, – now and every day – especially when emotions are all over the place; fear in your stomach, anxiety in your loins, need – this unshakable need — in your heart: terrible, voracious, heavy in your limbs as you drag your exhausted body up the stairs. Knocking on the door is, weirdly enough, more nerve-wracking than having witnessed their improbable excursion on television. Egon opens the door, all intrigued eyes and furrowed brows; dressed so casually it seems unreal.

“I know it’s not the time, and that you don’t like people in your space,” you mumble. “But I was— “

Egon steps away from the doorway, inviting you in silently, and it’s almost reluctantly that you step inside. It’s dimly lit but you notice opened notebooks on his table next to three empty mugs.

“Was I interrupting?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Egon answers to your surprise. “I was only writing down what happened tonight.”

You hum. “I saw it on TV.”

He gestures to you to take a seat. From your chair, you can see Egon busying himself with his small fungus farm, touching the caps of his mushrooms with the tips of his fingers. “You know; I think you deserve a rest, after saving the city and all.”

“I believe we saved the world.”

The emphasis doesn’t go unnoticed. You chuckle nervously, having found a deep interest in a stain on the floor. “I wonder if your Sumerian God would have been able to conquer the world as a hundred-foot-tall marshmallow man.”

“Gozer is a powerful entity,” he says. “They would have brought the apocalypse on our world.”

“But now it’s gone, eh?” The unusual silence makes you look up at him.  

“We’ve only destroyed a vessel and a portal. There might be more somewhere.”

“Well…” You try to rationalize. “Good thing the Ghostbusters will always be there.”

Egon stills, staring without looking as if he’s debating inside: is it true? Will it be true? Will I do anything to honor this promise? You decide to drop the subject.

“So, how does one destroy the portal of a God? ’Sounds like a lot of molecular bounds to break.”

“We crossed the streams.”

You freeze.

“…I thought you shouldn’t do that, like ever.” It’s easier to fake some lightheartedness in your tone than to face how a simple slip of fate could have made this improvised late-night meeting impossible.

“It did work.”

It’s harder to swallow as if he could suddenly vanish in front of your very eyes, taken away by some dark entity; as if every single particle of his being could disappear forever as they annihilate their counterpart. A total protonic reversal, that’s what Dr. Stantz had said. You unwillingly explore this possibility: how you, safely at home, wouldn’t have known about their utter and complete destruction until the ridiculous vessel of a Sumerian God turned on the city and brought the apocalypse upon the world. Perhaps after a few hours, perhaps after a day, you would have accepted the fact that they had lost. Or you’d have watched an explosion of unimaginable scale, staring blindly at the death of thousands of people and the loss of what became a constant in your life.

You stand up, trying to get rid of the restless energy that has been buzzing underneath your skin for two days now.

“Oh yes, proton-antiproton collisions are usually effective at killing everything around.” You sigh, trying to squash down the trembling in your voice, leaning against his desk. “Even if you weren’t already dead by the annihilation of your own molecules, the explosion would have finished the job.”

But it’s pointless to remind him of what he already knows. Egon still faces his farm but his mechanical movements have stopped. You say, “You’re more of a jackass than I thought.”

“The chances of surviving were low, I’ll admit.”

“No shit,” you mutter lowly. “Bless the uncertainty principle.”

His small cocky smile is an unexpected but welcomed sight. “Quantum theory has never been truly challenging for me.”

It startles a laugh out of you. “You might want to revise your judgment, then.”

Putting down whatever kind of instrument he has been using, he walks closer and leans on the spot next to you; an unusual decision, perhaps even an unspoken attempt at consolation. It’s funny because you’ve never stood this close, ever. There’s always been something between you: a room, a desk, Venkman, your apprehension, his awkwardness… As his shoulder brushes against yours, your heart soars with uneasiness but as soon as you let your bubble of comfort merge with his, it becomes the most natural thing in the world. Only then, at this very instant, does your heartbeat finally slow down, does the gnawing sensation at the pit of your stomach dissipate… leaving you to wonder when it’ll all pop.

“You haven’t told me the purpose of your visit,” Egon says after some time, always traveling the universe at the speed of light.

“Ah yes.” There it is. “I was restless.” He looks at you intently. “It just occurred to me that our last meeting hasn’t been entirely— agreeable.”

You stare at the ground. “I would have preferred not to have left on bad terms.”

“You were worried I wouldn’t come back.” It sounds like an epiphany.

He says ‘I’ and not ‘we’, and you would have liked for his social ineptitude to take a step forward for once, and not his ridiculously sharp sense of observation.

“Well… It’s normal, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer. You wish for the world to be ‘normal’ again, or at least the isolated system of your mental landscape. The disruption in the former entity of your thoughts morphs your behaviors, your habits, making you a slave to the random bursts of emotions you’d like to see buried. This energy stays right there, bound by thermodynamics and your fixations. Perhaps this PKE, this conscience energy is the reason for it all.

“I’m afraid that all of this–” You make a half-hearted movement of the arm. “–will disappear.”

“The world?” He asks.

“No. Yes. I mean…“ You swallow. “Here, right now. I’m afraid I’ll wake up in the morning to realize that it’s all gone.”

“I don’t think reality will end during the night.”

You don’t feel like expanding on those uncomfortable feelings so you entertain the idea. “We were about to be wiped out by a God from distant times. If ghosts are proof of anything, it’s that time is meaningless. It could very well end in a few hours.”

Egon doesn’t answer. You let out a sigh. “It’s irrational.”

“Perhaps,” he says after some time. “But fears usually are.”

“People usually fear tangible things, like, I don’t know, ghosts.”

“Ghosts aren’t material per se–”

You chuckle, looking at him. “I knew you’d say that.”

It’s complicated, this situation; how his literal words comfort you in unsuspected ways. It should be annoying, saddening even, to harbor such feelings for someone who lives miles away in his own head of equations, schematics and paranormal theories. You question your behavior, wondering if, in the end, he’s not just another new thing to fixate upon, if he’s not just another unanswered question on your long list of interrogations about life, the universe and everything. If that’s the case then, you can just move on.

“It’s late,” he states.

Perhaps, you can move on. “Yes, I’m gonna go.”

You gather your bag, breaking the fallacy of closeness you had. If the painful torpor your heart is in is any indication, is that it – whatever it is – goes beyond a fixation, but you don't want to confront any of this...

“Goodbye, Egon.”

…unless it’s to run away.

It’s a goodbye, you convince yourself, pushed closer by a disillusioned thought and a hint of desperation. On his face, you can read a plethora of interrogations, each for one flicker of a lid, for one shift of an eye; unique movements as his body stays right in place. It spurs you on, makes you cross the remaining distance between you. And as you place your hand on his arm to not buckle under the pressure, you give a single kiss; a furtive indulgence at the corner of his lips. Something that could be more, something that could be nothing.

You haven’t meant to meet his eyes, but it all seemed inescapable when he didn’t even close them in the first place while you hid safely behind the opaque screen of your lids. It’s confusion, likely a little bit of recoil… You burn brighter from a single kiss, a torch shining a little light on him too, but as adrenaline slips away, you’re faced with darkness again. There’s nothing you can fault him for as it’s your own two legs that took you there in the first place. It’s your own weak heart that pushed you up those stairs as everything else was dragged down by gravity.

You’re out of his apartment as quickly as you can. You know that if you abuse this kindness, your wider smile and warmer face will be the devil’s work; the consequence of pillaging of benevolence you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to stop. Even with genuine motions, his telltale beat will never follow yours, and even the strongest, wildest embers won’t alienate it faster. You will be a parched man facing a mirage, a moth to an ephemeral flame that will love everything until it’s consumed. But a flame doesn’t love back and love is a sin for the ones that feel it the most.

The next day, the sky is back to its usual color.

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters reader insert #ghostbusters #non binary reader

[stillalittlelostngl]

Academic Rivals to Lovers(ish) - Gojo/Reader HCs

Inspired by the below tweet - didn't mention reader crying here but ya that probably ended up happening at some point lol. Are these HCs or just the outline of a story? Is there really a difference?

Also - I only had one lab in college that I always skipped so idk how those things go down and i only have the stories my friends would tell me to go off of. so there's that disclaimer. Also gojo is kinda classist

Being a first gen college student meant that you probably took your just a tad more seriously than your peers. You had your family counting on you to do well after all - for as long as you could remember your family had stressed the importance of academic success. They had been obsessed with the idea of you being the first in the family of blue collar working class folk to get into university and become a doctor or a lawyer or some paper pusher in an office. Hell they didn’t even complain when you said you might be interested in majoring in studio art or theater. They didn’t particularly care what you decided to study when you got there - they were just concerned with you getting in and doing well in whatever you studied. You didn’t entirely understand their insistence but it meant a lot to them and so it meant a lot to you by extension and you’d do your best to make them proud. 

You first noticed Gojo at orientation. You hadn’t learned much about him outside of him being some spoiled legacy student who had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and a family who had sent him to the best boarding schools money could buy. The jealousy had stung ngl - how was it fair that everything in life was handed to him while you and your parents were working double shifts to pay your tuition because the scholarships would never cover as much as the university was asking for

You didn’t think much of him. He came off as a loud and haughty air head and you just didn’t have time to entertain that sorta thing. 

Truthfully Gojo probably doesn’t even remember this first meeting - your face blended in with the rest of the incoming freshman class so easily and he’d never seen or heard your name before in his circle so you must not have been all that important 

Ultimately you decided to major in a pretty competitive field. The upperclassmen had told you horror stories about students fighting over internships and jobs in the labs, trying to sabotage each other's grades, cheating, etc. etc. It was a dog eat dog world you were entering but you had faith you could survive 4 years. They’d be over and done before you noticed.

Boy had you been wrong. The upperclassmen had been very tame with their description of what the next few years of your life would look like tbh. Countless sleepless nights filled with study sessions, researching and writing essays along with the cattiness of the student body that was constantly at each other’s throats and kissing professors’ asses to try and get ahead. You had put a target on your back after the first test was handed back - your peers had been pissed because by getting a perfect score on the test the teacher decided to not curve it. The one who seemed the most annoyed by this had been Gojo and he never let you forget it.

Honestly Gojo was pissed that someone was better than him at something - even if it was just one test during his first semester of uni. He was used to being on top and to be bested by someone like you left a sour taste in his mouth.

He couldn’t understand how you did it. Half the stuff on that test hadn’t even been discussed in class - this teacher was notorious for being difficult and not that good of a teacher so the class always relied on there being a curve. When he got his piss poor grade back he had been furious. It wasn’t as bad as some of his other classmates but it wasn’t the best. When he learned it was your fault he had that grade he became a man obsessed.

He had begun asking others about you that day and learned everything he could. Your background, your schedule, your study habits, what dorm you stayed in - he wanted to know all of it in hopes of cracking the code of how you bested him.

When he still couldn’t figure it out he tried approaching you - maybe you had an older student give you answers to all the tests for that class and perhaps you’d be generous enough to share.

“Oh well something the professor said during the lecture got me thinking so I kinda fell down a google rabbit hole to see what I could find. Just got lucky that it was on the test i guess”

And Gojo was pissed. Of course it had just been luck that allowed you to get the better of him. He wanted to laugh at himself for ever thinking differently. When you grades continued to go head to head with his each time assignments and tests came back he had to accept that maybe it wasn’t just luck 

The two of you became a source of entertainment to your classmates. They would make bets on which one of you would score higher. Gojo would do nothing but encourage it. Anytime he managed to get the top score he’d make sure to shoot you an irritating smirk and offer some faux condolences with a “maybe next time”. It never failed to get under your skin.

It was like everything he did was to try and annoy you. Hell even his appearance was enough to piss you off. Of course he's the type to wear sunglasses indoors - what a pretentious asshole. You usually didn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he bothered you but your friends would sure hear an earful of whatever it did that got you wound up on any given day. 

When the both of you had been paired as lab partners you were convinced you must've pissed off some deity in a past life or something. You couldn't imagine a worse fate than having to sit next to him for at least an hour every week. The lab required cooperation and while initially you had tried to spearhead the whole operation Gojo wasn’t about to take that sitting down.

It all came to a head one day when he was trying to tell you what you were doing wrong for an experiment (you weren’t doing anything wrong tbh he just wanted to see you get worked up)

“Look, if you have such an issue with me I can just ask the professor to assign us different partners. I’m not going to keep going back and forth with you like this.”

“I don’t have an issue with you - who said I had an issue with you?” 

“Please, since day one you judged me and have been acting like I’m too stupid to be here - you think I don’t hear what you and your little friends have been saying?”

Gojo wanted to deny it but knew you were right on the money. After that first test came back he had been so wrapped up in his anger that he said some…less than savory things about you to his friends and a few others who had been hanging around them. He knew folks talked but hadn’t expected it to get back to you. He isn’t sure why it felt like his stomach dropped when he found out you knew though. 

“Despite all your efforts to look down on me from your little pedestal I’m still doing just as good as you are. You being an asshole isn’t going to change that.” 

You left shortly after - uncaring if it meant you’d do poorly on the graded lab but you couldn’t stand to be there around him anymore. He could have this win if it meant you wouldn’t have to be stuck in his presence for a moment longer. 

Gojo’s a pretty out of touch guy so you confronting him kinda sparked some introspection on his end (or about as much introspection as he’s capable of). The following days had him acting differently - a bit quieter than normal and he would discourage classmates from making bets or egging you on with the little competition the two of you had going. You almost felt bad - maybe calling him an asshole was taking it too far? It’s not like you hadn’t spoken shit about him to your friends either after all. 

You were dreading the next lab. In all your other classes you could avoid him and sit on opposite sides of the lecture hall. The lab would have you forced to interact for at least 60 minutes and you could only imagine how awful that was going to go. 

You were surprised when he started the lab off with an apology - in the few years you had somewhat known him you’d never known him to be one to apologize to anyone and you’d never dream he’d be apologizing to you of all people. 

He doesn’t go into heavy detail any you don’t ask him to but you learn that he’s also under a lot of pressure from his family. Everyone in his immediate and extended family have gone on to do great things and his family is constantly pressing him to do even better than they did - he got caught up and ended up taking his frustration out on you. 

You find yourself apologizing too. You had been judgemental of him from the start too and played into the competition more than you’d like to admit. 

The lab had gone on pretty smoothly after that - you two were one of the first groups done since you weren’t bickering between each other. As you were packing up to leave Gojo asked if you’d like to study with him sometime for an upcoming final. You were a bit nervous about it but accepted anyways, excited that the two of you were turning over a new leaf and wondering where exactly this would go 

______

in thee nsfw version y'all fucked in the study room like the depraved folks y'all are idk

#gojo hc #gojo headcanons #gojo x you #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jjk hcs #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #gojo saturo/you #gojo saturo x you #gojo saturo/reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo/reader #gojo x reader #gojo/you #saturo/reader #saturo x reader #saturo/you #saturo x you #saturo gojo/you #saturo gojo/reader #saturo gojo x reader #saturo gojo x you #gojo satoru/reader #gojo satoru/you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader

[666writingcafe]

Welcome Back

If it weren't for the fact that Luke was with us, I would have cursed loudly. You see, when the four of us went through the gate that would take us to the Devildom, I winded up landing hard on my butt.

"Sorry about that, MC," Solomon states as he helps me up. "I really should've warned you to be careful where you land."

"We didn't have this issue in the Celestial Realm," I tell him.

"That's because Solomon's magic is, shall we say, more chaotic than mine," Simeon replies. "Thankfully, it shouldn't have interfered with where we landed."

"Which is where, exactly?" Luke asks rather impatiently. Simeon gently takes Luke's hand and starts walking forward, leaving Solomon and I with no choice but to follow. Our walk doesn't take long, and soon we're looking at the back of one of the RAD buildings. Solomon takes out his D.D.D., and I'm close enough to see that he's texting Barbatos about our arrival. Seconds after he hits send, the demon butler literally appears out of thin air.

"Dah!" Luke shouts, latching onto me. "Don't do that, Barbatos!"

"I apologize, Luke. It was the quickest way I could get to you." Barbatos briefly glances at each of us, as if doing a mental headcount. "I'm glad everyone arrived safely."

"I wish I wasn't here," Luke grumbles. Faintly smiling, Barbatos reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key, which he hands to Simeon.

"That is for Purgatory Hall," he explains. "It is best if the two of you get settled in."

"What about Solomon?" Luke asks.

"There are some things that I need to discuss with him and MC before I send him over. Everything has been prepared for your stay." Before Luke can question Barbatos any more, Simeon calmly leads him away, and soon it's just me, Solomon, and Barbatos.

"If you will follow me," Barbatos instructs. The three of us walk silently inside the nearest RAD building. We end up walking past the student council room, where there appears to be a meeting in session. I manage to catch Diavolo mention something about a witches' sabbath before Barbatos quickly ushers Solomon and me into an office. Closing the door behind him, he gestures us towards a office desk. Solomon and I sit on one side, and Barbatos sits on the other.

"First things first: MC, may I have your notebooks, please?" Barbatos asks. Unzipping my backpack, I pull them out and set them on the desk. Barbatos grabs the one on top and quickly flips through the pages.

"It appears as though Michael has made some notes," he states as he sets the notebook back down. "Lord Diavolo and I will have to look at them more closely when the time comes." He leans down, opens a drawer, and sticks the notebooks inside. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tightly folded piece of paper. He sets it in front of me.

"We need to test the extent of your magical abilities," he explains as I unfold the paper. "These classes will determine where your strengths and weaknesses lie." He allows me a moment to look at my schedule:

M: Advanced Potions -Lecture: 9:00-1:00 -Lab: 2:00-6:00 W: Advanced Curses and Hexes -Lecture: 9:00-1:00 -Lab: 2:00-6:00 F: Advanced Speechcraft -Lecture: 9:00-1:00 -Lab: 2:00-6:00

"I thought that students had classes during all five days of the week," I state.

"They do," Barbatos replies. "In your case, you will receive all day tutoring on Tuesdays and Thursdays." He looks over at Solomon. "Have you decided what day you want?"

"Thursday," he answers.

"Wonderful. Then I will take Tuesday."

"You two are going to tutor me?" Barbatos nods his head.

"Lord Diavolo's orders. We want to ensure that you retain everything you learn in these classes, both in a mental and magical capacity. He has also made the decision that you will be graded on the same scale as your fellow classmates, which means that you will be critiqued much harder than you were the last time you were here. We know you can't do it alone, so the two of us will help you complete any assignments you require our assistance with.

"Do you have any questions, MC?" I shake my head, too stunned to speak. Barbatos reaches in another pocket and pulls out another key.

"This is for the House of Lamentation. Your room has been prepared for your arrival." He hands the key to me. "Solomon, if you will be kind enough to walk MC there. I have to return to the student council meeting."

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke

[dragonsarecool]

Febwhump Day 23 - Presumed Dead

A/N: Returning home permanently without Doc means Marty has trouble coping with his new world. Set prior to Episode I - It’s About Time.

Settling back into 1985 hadn’t been as smooth as he’d anticipated, considering he’d only spent two weeks in other time periods. 

It wasn’t that he felt out of place. On the contrary; he was so relieved to see modern plumbing and his electric guitar that he could’ve cried. Being able to have a proper shower to scrub away the dirt and strum out some chords did more for his mental health was, he decided, better than any therapist could’ve offered him.

It took a few days before he realised what was making it difficult to resettle: he was lonely.

Yes, he did have his family, but the more time he spent with them and learnt just exactly what changes had resulted from his actions in 1955, the more he began to feel like a stranger. This was a family that had been raised by a confident George and supportive Lorraine. Dave was in a high-paying executive position, sporting flashy suits and drinking coffee beans from countries Marty couldn’t begin to pronounce, while Linda was a secretary and halfway through planning an extravagant wedding.

Marty also hadn’t appreciated until now exactly how much time he would spent at Doc’s house. It wasn’t until he was around the corner from the lab that he realised he’d been skating from the school on autopilot, and hesitantly turned away to head home. He couldn’t bring himself to actually lay eyes on his favourite place in the whole world; even thinking about how the place was now abandoned and rotting away was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

On nights when he would have been tinkering with Doc’s latest inventions and sharing a Burger King feast with him, he now lay despondently on his bed, staring at the ceiling with unshed tears. This was worse than death, he thought. At least with death, he knew that someone had no chance of coming back. Yet Doc wasn’t dead, but it seemed almost certain that they would ever meet again.

The influx of rapid change was sometimes too much for him, and he found himself clinging to the one thing left that was familiar. Jennifer had gotten used to Marty turning up at her bedroom window at unholy hours, even if it was just for a singular kiss or quick cuddle. She never protested or asked questions, and always held him as tenderly as she did before it all changed.

Yet he continued to cling to the tiniest scrap of hope that he would return. 

He found it easier than accepting the truth.

October turned into November, and November somehow melted into March faster than he would’ve appreciated. He and Jennifer had been idly flipping through the real estate section of the newspaper, discussing what sort of dream first home they wanted to aim for.

When Marty spotted it, a cold shiver came over his body. His grip on the newspaper stiffened as his eyes remained hyper-focused on the paper, ignoring Jennifer’s concerned gaze.

A tiny black and white photograph of a very familiar estate, now decorated with a ‘For Sale’ sign.

For. Sale.

But it’s not for sale. 

He never agreed to it!

“They can’t do that!” Marty cried angrily, throwing the newspaper in a heap. He was surprised at the sudden rage that had come over him. “T-They can’t! He never…he never wanted to sell it!”

“Well what choice do they have, Marty?” Jennifer said softly. “For all they know, he is dead-“

“But he’s NOT!” Marty leapt from his position on the couch, pacing around the living room in anger. “He’s not dead!! What’ll he say when he comes back and sees his house has got someone else living in it?!”

“Who are we to say he is coming back, Marty?”

The young man sighed slowly. He didn’t want to admit Jennifer was right, for it meant he was abandoning his hope. “B-But if he’s not coming back, then he’s as good as dead, Jen! A-and I don’t wanna believe that!”

Not after he’s already died once in front of me.

Jennifer rose to her feet, squeezing Marty’s shoulders in the exact spots she knew would make him relax. She allowed a brief silence to pass before proposing an idea. “Would it help if we go and see the house?”

Marty was puzzled. “What do-“

“I mean if you see that sign yourself. See how run-down and ruined it is,” Jennifer nuzzled into his neck. “Do you think it would help make it more real for you?”

Part of Marty wanted to say no. To yell and scream about how he already brought his friend back from death once. To say how he couldn’t bear the thought of living without him.

But Doc’s final words kept coming to mind in moments like this. The future is whatever I make it. 

Is this what I’m destined to do now? To whinge and moan about how shitty I feel? I know Doc would tell me off for it…

I guess I should try to make it a good one and not wallow like a pitiful son of a bitch.

Marty nodded. “Let’s give it a try.”

#bttf #fanfiction #back to the future #whump #febwhump #febwhump24 #febwhump2024

[studywithanoodle]

Weeks 3 and 4

It's been a bit since my last post! My bio midterm was Wednesday, so my time was taken up by that as well as my mental health problems that came up again last week. That will be discussed more in the next section of my post. I also got my midterm score at midnight on Friday, so I will reflect on that as well.

A View Into My Week of Work and Studying

I found out that I have to take the final for Calculus 2 at my school so that I can take Calculus 3 next semester, which slightly concerns me because of how it'll fit in my schedule at this point in registration. I registered for classes on November 1st, and my schedule looks pretty good other than my long day on Wednesdays. It pretty much has everything that I need, including Monday mornings free when I travel back to school from home and Friday afternoons free before peak time for the train back home so that my commute is cheaper. Because of this, I created a calendar to space out my review of Calculus 2 topics so that I can be prepared in time for finals week.

I found out that I can't take Physics 2 next semester since it would be technically re-enrollment due to my transfer credits from high school and would require a whole process, so I decided that I would audit the class. I like this option a lot better because I won't have to do labs LOL but I get access to the subject material and can practice my skills. On this note, I'm unable to tutor in the Learning Resource Center this semester, but next semester I should have a spot.

Now, for my review of my bio midterm! I studied a lot for it in the two weeks leading up to it, which resulted in me finishing it in around 15-20 minutes. In the days leading up to the release of grades, I kept hearing people discuss the answers to certain questions that were hard, and I started get nervous about my score.

I ended up getting an 86, so if I had gotten one more question right, I would've gotten an A, which I'm slightly upset about. I aimed for an A, so I'm not the happiest, but it's definitely advantageous considering the curving and the fact that the median score was a 59 like the last midterm. I'm really trying to figure out how to study better so I can get an A+, which is obviously possible considering someone got a 96. If anyone has any extremely obscure tips, let me know ahaha I feel like I've seen everything!

I'm currently working on my application to a neurosurgery summer program, so I requested a letter of recommendation from my mentor. The acceptance rate is around 3%, which I'm concerned about, so I'm looking at other summer research programs. Even if they don't end up being for neurosurgery, I can gain a lot from doing clinical neuroscience research at a major institution somewhere. I just really hope I get into the program of my choice, though.

Concerns

This is where I discuss the mental health episode that I had last week (not this week that just passed). I think that it's important to discuss mental health when it comes to being a student and a productive individual outside of academics. My depression (which for now is undiagnosed but I'm on the road to treatment for it) affects my life in many facets, as it would for anyone else. I definitely would categorize it as high-functioning, but I've had really bad depressive episodes a few times, with them occurring only in 2022. This is most likely because my condition went untreated for a while, so that kind of stress builds up. This episode in particular delayed my submission of my paper for my writing class, which was the second one that I unfortunately submitted late already this semester.

Part of the stress comes from not really feeling comfortable with the community since my class in my program is small, so I don't have any friends in it. I started meeting with a study group, and we helped each other with doing better on the midterm for bio, but it's not really like I would hang out with them normally? I don't really know. Well, there's our vulnerability statement for this week lol.

Hobby Analysis

Yesterday, I took out time to watch youtube videos and crochet a bit, which was really fun. I missed watching tiktok compilations on youtube and crocheting at the same time, which was something I did on the weekends often during my senior year in high school. I really enjoy it because I usually learn a lot since they're social justice videos.

Hopes for Next Week

I hope that in the upcoming week, I get more on track with my calculus studying since this week was kind of wild considering I had to travel home. I'm starting mentoring, so that's going to be an enjoyable experience, as well. I hope that I start doing my research proposal for my writing class in a timely manner as to prevent a situation like the one from last week. Finally, I hope that I can finalize my list of summer research programs and be more diligent with work on my clinical research.

Until next week!

#studyblr #studyspo #study aesthetic #study space #studysthetics #dark academia #academia #study blog #study notes #books #music #reading #college #university #sunlight #writing #scienceblr #medblr #study inspo #home #study desk #medical school #productivity

[dadbodfanatic-x]

Paper rings; part 10

Jim Hopper x original female character

A/N: lots of fluff, lots of angst I live for it. I love it. Mentions of some rough shit, experiments and thing. General cussing.

Trying to explain to Joyce what you all saw inside that lab was difficult because it still didn’t make sense to you. You were sat on the couch trying to make sense of everything while her and hopper were at the table discussing some of the things he saw.

“A drawing? You didn’t say there was a drawing” you heard the tone in Joyces voice change and you knew she was concerned that’s where her son was being held.

“It wasn’t Wills drawing…” that was the first clue to you that it wasn’t a cell for Will. He could really draw and you knew if he was being held somewhere and given the option to draw his would be very detailed.

“Are you sure? Just maybe look at these” Joyce went into another room to grab something

“I promise it wasn’t Joyce. My whole glovebox is filled with drawings from Will, he drew me something at Bennys every time we went. I could spot it, I promise”

The gears in Hoppers head were turning and it’s almost like you could see the lightbulb go off before he jumped up and ran over to the coffee table “earl said he saw some kid with Benny the night he died right?”

You sat up to follow his train of thought “yeah he wanted me to bring clothes remember?” You watched as he pulled out the article about Terry Ives missing daughter Jane and how she sued Brenner but nothing ever came of it.

“What if this whole time we thought we were after Will but we’ve been chasing the wrong kid?”

You stood quickly beginning to pace the room “I mean it’s possible. you know Will, he’s the sweetest kid in town. Maybe he ran into Brenners missing kid on his way home and tried to help them?”

A few more theories were passed around before everyone decided to part ways. The Drive home was a somber one, giving Joyce the news that Wills body was fake and she was right really felt great but not being able to tell her where her son was made things tense and you felt like your head was still spinning trying to grasp what you and Hopper saw in the basement of Hawkins lab.

When Hopper made the turn onto your street dread began to seep into your bones, after everything you saw and what the lab did to you both and also knowing someone had been in your home at some point to plant a bug made you feel so unsafe in your own home. “Hey Jim…” you asked so quietly it was almost a whisper

“Yeah…” he looked up at you with tired eyes as he put the car in park in front of your house.

You began fiddling with your hands “do you think that you could maybe stay with me tonight?” You finally looked up to meet his gaze “I don’t really feel safe being by myself…”

He reached out to grab your hand “of course doll” and you released the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

When you stepped into your front door both of you just stopped, you left so quickly for Joyce’s today that you completely forgot the mess that was made looking for the bug. You looked at Hopper and groaned “I’m too tired to deal with this right now…” and he chuckled “as long as the couch is clear, I’m good”

You turned abruptly when he said that “wait, no…” and he turned to you confused “I uhhh I was kinda hoping you would stay with me in my room tonight…” and he shook his head yes as he rubbed the back of his neck “yeah…yeah that’s fine if you’re okay with that”

You led the way into your room before you realized his flannel was laying right in the middle of your bed. You snatched it up quickly but you could tell by the look on his face you were already caught “is that my shirt?” He was smiling and your face was turning a bright shade of red “I mean, I might have grabbed a flannel on my way out the morning after we got drunk and I stayed over. It’s fine I’m just gonna change real quick.” And you made a beeline for your dresser but you could still feel his eyes glued to you as he sat down on the bed to take his boots off.

You stood in front of your dresser for a long time, you normally slept in a long shirt and underwear but didn’t know if that was acceptable right now but you were exhausted and couldn’t think much of it so you just grabbed what your normally slept in a made your way to the bathroom. When you came back you actually had to take a minute to stand at your door. Hopper had always been giant but something about him laying in your bed made him look extra huge, he was laying on his back with his eyes closed and his arm up behind his head. He must have sensed you staring “you good?” He groaned, eyes still shut.

You stammered a little at him catching you but tried to play it off “you gonna sleep in jeans?”

“ I uhh didn’t know if I should or not” he finally opened his eyes and sat up.

You laughed as you came around on your side of the bed “take your damn pants off Hop” and you lifted the covers to get in and face your back to him giving him some privacy. Although you’re certain you hear a “yes ma’am” under his breath.

You feel the bed dip down beside you and try not to smile at the thought of Hopper in your bed. When he’s finally settled behind you just a little too far away for your liking but still close enough to feel the heat radiating off him you can almost hear how hard he’s thinking before he says it “can I…” and you cut him off quickly “please” you feel his large arm come to rest over your hip before he pulls you back into his chest and between being encased by his warmth and his scent and finally feeling safe sleep takes you quickly.

When the sun finally starts to peak its way into your curtains you groan at the intrusion and snuggle farther into your pillow, except you realize that it’s not in fact your pillow. At some point in the night you must have rolled over because now you’re cuddled into hoppers chest, his large arm wrapped around you, his hand squeezed over your hip and your leg thrown over his hip. You almost feel bad being awake and still laying like this but it’s the best you’ve slept in a very long time and you feel warm and safe and you lose track of your thoughts when he groans and pulls you into his side tighter before rolling to face you and wrapping his other arm around you too.

“Can I shower?” He groans into your hair and kisses your forehead. Never moving from his current position.

You’re ashamed at how taken aback you are by his sleepy morning voice. It’s octaves lower than normal and strikes a chord somewhere deep inside your core “yes…yeah of course” you finally answer into his chest before you hear him chuckle and feel it vibrate through your whole body.

When he finally releases you to get up and shower you actually whimper at the loss of warmth, and him of course. “I’ll make it quick” he says before exiting the bedroom. You know he plans on meeting Terry Ives today so you jump up and head into the kitchen, you start a pot of coffee and throw some eggos into the toaster before you head into your room again to get ready. Luckily your second day curls weren’t terrible so you throw them up into a clip and let some frame your face before you throw on an outfit and do a quick rush of your makeup.

You had just finished frying some bacon and throwing it on a plate when you hear the bathroom door open, you had already finished eating and were working on your coffee when he rounded the corner and saw you. He came over and picked up his cup of coffee before leaning over and planting a kiss in your hair “thanks doll but I gotta take this on the road. We gotta get moving” you just nodded for fear of your voice letting it slip just how lovely this domesticated morning in the middle of chaos was. He snatched up one waffle before putting a handful of bacon on top and sandwiching it between the other waffle. He took a giant bite and let it hang in his mouth while he had his coffee in one hand and his other was on your lower back ushering you out.

The ride over to pickup Joyce was quiet, you were giving him time to eat his breakfast in peace and honestly giving yourself time to wipe this stupid smile off your face. You were staring out the window when you felt his large hand slide over your thigh “you okay?” He sounded so sincere. You looked at him still sporting this goofy grin “yeah of course…” he smiled back at you “last night was just..” his smile actually grew “yeah…it’s the best I’ve slept in months” and you placed your hand over his and squeezed.

Picking up Joyce was easy and you were on the road again in no time. A small part of you was so surprised when you got back into the car after letting Joyce in the backseat and Hoppers hand was right back on your thigh. Jim had decided to stop at a pay phone on his way out of town to call an old friend Frank to see about getting Terrys address, leaving just you and Joyce in the car.

“So you and Hop huh?” Your head snapped around to Joyce “I don’t…I mean I’m not” you groaned when Joyce began to giggle “Hey, I think it’s great. He’s a good guy, he deserves someone like you” you smile at her unsure of what to say so she grabs your hand “he’s lucky to have you, so am I. Thank you for everything, for believing me and for helping the boys” you grab her hand tight now “you never have to thank me for that, I love those boys to death”

You see Hopper exit the phone booth and Joyce let’s go of your hand to wipe some tears away and when he enters into the car she asks “did you get it?” “Yeah I got it” he responds before pulling back onto the road.

You all crowded onto the porch of the address Frank gave you hoping this was the right place, you took a deep breath as Hopper knocked. A woman answered the door and she was rightfully timid as Hopper explained he was the chief of Hawkins and we needed to speak to Terry. The woman finally agreed to let you in but she mentioned that we were about five years too late to talk to Terry. You admit that confused you because if Terry was dead why would this woman allow you all into her home but as you rounded the corner you somewhat understood.

“This is my son Will, he’s been uhh missing for about a week now” Joyce began explaining to Terry but she never responded and never looked at the picture, Hopper attempted to ask about Brenner but Terry still never made a sound.

“What’s wrong with her?” Hopper asked Terrys sister.

Before the sister explained anything she had you all sit down

“She was a part of some study in college”

“MK ultra?” You asked leaning forward interested in if Terrys family had any idea the type of study she was in.

“Yeah that’s the one! Started in the 50’s it was supposed to be ramping down when Terry Joined but the drugs just got crazier. They gave her LSD and They striped her down naked and put her in isolation tanks. Trying to expand the mind…” After explains the study Hopper asked about the CIA being involved but the sister just blew that idea off “she didn’t know she was pregnant at the time…”

You remembered seeing the story about the daughter “Jane right?” You asked and the sister shook her head yes. Joyce asked about pictures of Jane but she told you all that Terry actually miscarried in the third trimester.

When Terrys sister invited you upstairs to show you the nursery she had created hoping one day Jane would come home your heart broke for her “she says her kid was born with abilities you know telekinesis, shit you can do with your brain”

“Do you think it could have been real? Having the kid?” Joyce asked the sister but you knew the answer before she even said it, you knew what people who didn’t believe anyone looked like and she was it.

When you left Terrys house and got back into the car you couldn’t help but feel guilt, here you all were drumming up old memories for Terry but you also felt hurt. You hurt for all three of them, Joyce, Terry and Jim. They all three had lost children and you’re heart split open when you heard Hopper talk to joyce about a chance, we still had a chance to save Will and he would do anything to just have a chance with his daughter. You reached out your hand for his and pulled it into your lap and squeezed it three times, you’re sure he didn’t know what it meant but you did and that was enough. You were staring into his hurt filled eyes when you heard his radio crackle to life. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought of the station not being able to handle Jim not being there but then you heard it.

“There’s been a fight, it’s Jonathan Byers”

“WHAT?!” You and Joyce both yelled together.

#jim hopper x original female character #jim hopper fanfic #Jim hopper #stranger things #chief hopper fanfic #chief hopper #paper rings #part 10

[truffleandspice]

Venting! About Lab.

Oh my god. Lord KNOWS I am SO, SO SICK AND TIRED of meeting shitty, sexist people in the scientific field. Granted, things were worse in the past--more sexual assault, public (and private) humiliation, sexual and other harassment, bullying, threats, etc. compared to today (at least, one would hope...). But for some reason, I cannot escape bad people in science, specifically in my lab environments.

We have a "postdoc" who is not really a postdoc. He never finished his PhD--he finished his projects, but he neither finished writing his thesis nor did he defend it. He's in some in-between state of lab manager, lab tech, and postdoc. Strictly speaking, his highest educational degree is still his college degree. Also...I'm pretty sure he has a strong case of what, some time ago, would have been called Asperger syndrome, but this term is not as popular with the medical community nowadays due to its history and associations. Nowadays, we would call it an autism spectrum disorder.

You can tell very quickly upon meeting this guy that he's on the spectrum, but what gets me is the mild undercurrent of sexism combined with his continued negativity towards me in both scientific and casual domains.

Regarding the sexism, it'll be random comments which have nothing to do with the experiment or conversation, but just a dig. For example, he has shown us that nail polish is good to use to mark different types of electronic devices for our experiments. He was showing me where he was marking a device when, unrelated to the task, he said "yeah, you ladies who use nail polish each day". I showed him my natural, un-polished nails and said that I wasn't wearing nail polish and that I don't use it each day.

That's the one comment he's said outright that I can recall, although there's a prolific and tonally-weird use of the term "ladies" (the only students in the lab are me, a female, and another female).

But the other stuff that ties into this sexism is how negative he was towards me in the lab...he is so incredibly condescending it's insane. I've experienced horrible treatment (well, abuse) at home and in various labs (yeah, stuff that when I talked about it, it was reported to the institution), and this time I have a wonderful, trustworthy PI. But I don't want to take small things to him. I've learned to try and tiptoe around peoples' bad moods and poor attitudes, esp. if it doesn't interfere with my work. And lately, I've had the gumption to address behavior that crosses what I believe is a reasonable line, and so far my PI agrees with where I've placed this line. But there are some small things you just get so angry about, you just need to write and vent without getting anyone involved. That's how I felt about today.

Overall, I had a pretty solid day. I was able to demonstrate my knowledge and ideas for a novel experiment I'm really interested in during a meeting with collaborators, and the collaborator whose work intertwines with mine seemed legitimately very impressed with my knowledge, summarization of a recent and important paper, and take on the data. My PI is very consistently noting that he really likes and is interested in my project and is genuinely happy and satisfied with everything I've written so far. He even suggested that the work I'm interested in doing is important to the field and will greatly expand it (fingers crossed, I truly wish this would happen...especially with how disappointing all my [extreme] hard work in the past at the direction of abusive/misguided people has been {college specifically, that PI hasn't published in years}).

But before I could get to that idea, this guy was SO negative. I probably suggested about 40 experiments and he downed all of them. Never provided a paper to help me, despite the fact that other lab members at the time (including the PI) all gave me papers, discussed ideas in a constructive fashion, and demonstrated genuine interest in helping (I even have written evidence of this for all of those lab members).

Oh, and he completely dug into me one day, a few months back, in another hint-of-sexism manner. He claimed that I used the phrase "you know" at the end of a sentence at least 30 times...but I hadn't spoken even close to 30 sentences. And he went on a long monologue about how it made clear that I didn't know anything and was hiding it (the other grad student vehemently disagreed and was shocked by the situation...she defended me and my knowledge quite a bit, but he basically ignored her and continued digging), and brought a book and started asking me about minutiae/random facts that, according to the older grad student, were not even relevant to our field. He even admitted that if I didn't know about a certain model he named, then the lab had made a mistake in their training of me, and I had never heard of the model before (turns out I knew it but didn't know it was called a certain name). I said as much and he, of course, ignored that and continued to try and prove his point that I knew nothing. He also brought up my absences that week (which had been cleared by the lab members just before this conversation, and he mentioned to me multiple times that the lab didn't need to know when I was coming, going, or absent, because I was a grad student and an adult...) and was insinuating that I wasn't coming to lab enough.

Obviously, I took all of this to the PI, who apparently roasted him for it because he ate his words in a later conversation (which was iconic bc a member of his previous lab was visiting and as soon as he saw the "postdoc", asked him whether he defended his thesis yet). But it shouldn't have happened in the first place...and is an ongoing pattern of unproductive humiliation I've experienced by, consistently, sexist men and women (other incidents strongly highlighted their sexism) from high school through now. It just never ends. And finally I have a PI who has my back, but that's not gonna stop this fucker from finding other ways, literally any way he can, to be condescending.

This brings me to today. Our PI's father died recently, so the older grad student had the kind idea of giving him a framed picture of his father and some chocolates (our PI loves sweets but insists we eat sweets instead of him...she wanted him to have something for himself). I printed out the picture (as requested by the "postdoc", since I had previously mentioned I had photo paper and a printer) and bought the chocolates (fancy hand-painted alcohol-infused chocolates I got for a decent deal and were certainly an excellent gift). They got a frame from Target or HomeGoods, and certainly spent far less money than I did, but this was for our PI and I really didn't care at the time. But the "postdoc" immediately commented that the chocolates looked like lipsticks (they don't and were marketed as a masculine gift...), and I had to neutrally defend that. Well, when we went to give our PI the gift, he claimed he didn't want to make any speech or say anything, but as soon as our PI saw the chocolates (he loved them), the "postdoc" said that they were lipsticks. Okay...whatever. Our PI was nearly tearing up at the gifts and kept thanking us, and I had never seen him so emotional. Overall, it was a job well done, and my annoyance at the lipstick comment was only very mild at the time...it didn't stay on my mind too much throughout the rest of the day.

Oh, and small other note about the gift before moving on. I actually ordered a couple different beautiful frames when we first discussed getting a gift for our PI, and mentioned that "I ordered frames" to the "postdoc" when we had this discussion. Then, I mentioned that they were a great price and looked very nice (not in a self-righteous way, but as a quiet follow-up). And he immediately said "okay that's not relevant". Coming from the guy who cannot stop fucking talking once he starts and says the most uninteresting shit imaginable. And if you mention your own interests in a conversation, he immediately walks away, or negs them. E.g. I mentioned a list of restaurants I was interested in going to during a conference, and he said "you know we're not here to eat, we're here for the conference". That made me snap in a very professional manner (bc this is the kind of bs I used to hear at home) and I pretty sharply said that mealtimes are separate from conference times and a necessity, so if someone wants to eat something specific during those times, it's within their rights and not interfering with the conference. He shut up after that.

Well, before I left, I wondered whether I could get a ring light for my desk. I had a Zoom meeting late in the afternoon and you could barely see my face. The last time I needed to order something, the "postdoc" did the order, so I was under the impression that I needed to ask him about the order. He first asked (very condescendingly, but this was my fault) if the overhead lights were on in the room (they were, but my fault he asked bc I said that the only extra light coming in was through the window, without mentioning directly the overhead lights). Then he started looking but said a few times "I'm not going to say how I feel about this". He did this before when I had a powerpoint of potential experiments and asked for his feedback and claimed it looked like something someone from college would do (I...I am just starting my PhD? What else do you expect?). Anyway he sent me a link but was overall just so, so condescending during that interaction and I am SO sick of him. SO FUCKING SICK OF HIS FUCKING ASININE BULLSHIT. He's just such a horrible person and he's not even the worst person I've met in science or in my life, but just plain horrible. He's like some sort of sticky adhesive which just gets everywhere and clings onto everything it possibly can, causing problems for absolutely no valid reason aside from that being his nature. I wish he would get what he deserves for this immature, problematic, and lab-environment-wise destructive behavior.

Oh, and he hates our PI and literally yelled at him in front of all of us once :) Over an issue where it was not necessary at all :) Yeah, fuck this guy.

[frankpanioncube]

Obey Me Graduate Studies AU Part 3

Me laughing over my managerial meeting made me just remember that academics are demons probably. We’ll discuss what it says about me later.

Part One: Dia, Luci, Asmo, Satan, Mammon, Levi

Part Two: Beel, Belphie, Siemon, Solomon

Luke: Luke’s nearing finishing his second year of UG and he’s still a bit undecided. This has not gone unnoticed and he’s been pressured to choose a major already. He’s got fine grades in pretty well everything he’s tried but Universties don’t tend to offer the same stuff as trade colleges do and part of the problem is that Siemon is perpetually kind of lightly trying to pry him off his leg and stand up to Michael to let him do culinary school. In the end he does, but at some point, he takes some night classes in Theology. 

Barbatos: Barbatos is the executive assistant to Diavolo’s head of the department. Barbatos has himself several degrees, it’s not unusual for that to happen. He’s even been known to guest-lecture now and then or even do a TED Talk. Mostly though, he orders books for the TA’s, makes sure the Grad Office printer isn’t out of paper, ensures no one books the spare office for TA time on top of eachother and ...oh if you aren’t giving the University money, Dr. Diavolo doesn’t have time for you. (Really he wants to, he misses being a prof and sometimes side-eyes Siemon for resisting it bigtime) but Barbatos is there to ensure that the whole department runs smoothly. It does. But that said, he is quite aware of every time someone downloads or checks out his thesis paper. He also knows every. Single. Horrible. Little Weird bit of nonsense that goes on in day-to-day life in the university. And remains silent, even if Asmo tries to get him to talk. (As an aside: I have done this job, I just basically described doing my own job.) Thirteen:  Thirteen’s the tenured prof you can’t get rid of. No she’s unbelievably good at her job and super knowledgeable but she is 120% aware she’s good at her job, earned her spot and she can do what-ever-she-likes as she’s there now forever and no one can touch her. Now in some cases this is pretty cool. She teaches some fun classes. She’s a bit like Levi in that she kind of comes out with some very out of the box stuff that is very rooted in its’ discipline. On the other hand, she can be as petty, vindictive and horrible as she likes with her grading, she definitely plays favourites and is very fond of trap questions where your only fighting chance is - maybe if you’re an undergrad who couldn’t possibly have read her thesis - being someone who is in agreement with her thought processes...or...if you know the trick, agreeing with her. Sucks to be you if you try to challenge though. Even if you’re right...that’s an unfair advantage. Raphael:  A young, VERY YOUNG Research Assistant and TA and while he’s smart and knowledgeable has had a bit of bad luck with people who’d take advantage of his inexperience. As such he has a hard streak and is very inflexible - you’re not getting a deadline extension from him. It’s not his fault, truly, he needs to learn some things and one of them is a bit of tolerance for the fact that students learn differently. He’s not much for the TA part of his discipline (but could become a little kinder with time) but he’s a wonderful lab and RA. He’s just young - he thinks he needs to be badass. It’ll take time but he’ll mellow. When he does he’ll still be kind of a hard marker but he won’t quite take the ‘I need to BE BADASS AND PROVE IT!’ route so much. 

#obey me #obey me grad studies au #raphael #luke #thirteen #barbatos

[lovepoweredspeed]

Dio called Barry to pay him a visit late at night, mostly because it was the only time he got left in his day, his explanation for the sudden favor wasn't really a list of reasons or a clear response, but he said it was important and of his foster brother's interest.

"Sorry for coming around out of nowhere like this." The blond apologized as he sat on one of those tall chairs in the lab, then unlocked and opened his briefcase over an empty space on the table in front of him, then flicked through some of the folders inside and pulled one to show Barry. "Here. This is for you."

The smile on his lips was genuine, it reached his eyes and softened the lines on his face as he handed the folder to Barry. Inside there were documents and legal requests of many kinds, but the most important was the first paper when he opened the folder, an approved request for Barry's biological father to be out of jail on a special concession so long as he answered to his parole officer once every month for the next four years.

"I wanted to be able to do more. He can't leave the State, okay? But he'll be able to go home, look for a job or start one of his own and get back to a more normal life." Dio lamented that he came short in that regard, but the investigation on the murder of Barry's mom had been re-opened on the blond's vehement argumentation that the proofs were not sufficient to call it an open-and-close case and that it was shown time and again by multiple doctors that Barry's dad wasn't a violent man to kill the one and only woman he loved above all — perhaps a little bit of exaggeration, but it earned the judge's leniency. "I'm still working on the case and your father will still have me for his lawyer for as long as he wants. I'm not quitting until this is all solved, alright? But for now, I think you might want to call in for the night in order to go see him first thing in the morning."

There was no mention of payment too, which, weirdly enough, had been a constant from Dio, he refused to discuss payment from the very moment Barry came to ask for his help. They were foster brothers, but Dio hadn't been all too close to Barry, in fact, for the most part they were almost strangers, since Dio lived most of his time at Italy and only really met Barry a couple of times before Felipe passed away and Emilo's guardianship fell into his own hands — it didn't help that he was also emotionally distant in a weird way for those years. So there wasn't a reason for him to treat him as family, but... Dio tried to convey some of it through his actions. The dedication and refusal to talk money were part of it.

random ask || @goldentemplariumcrow

Barry would never forget the day Felipe first spoke to him at the orphanage, nor would he forget the day he took him in. The boy had gotten pretty close with his foster dad, they had both needed each other in a way. Someone he hadn't gotten close with though was his foster brother, not for lack of trying, but he guessed they were just too different. It did sadden him though. Not even Felipe's death had brought them closer, something that had been a hard blow for them both. If anything, it had driven them further apart. Though, things had gotten better lately, but Barry was still surprised when Dio called him and wanted to meet.

Having told him he needed to work in the lab, it had been decided they would meet there. Barry greeted him, barely holding back the hug he wanted to give the man, before leading him over to a cleared space.

Seeing the smile, an actual smile, on Dio's lips as he handed him a folder made Barry blink in surprise. "I guess it must be something good since you're actually smiling, like really smiling," he said before he could stop himself as he took the folder he was handed. Opening it, he began to read and the froze. Within a second, his mouth hung open and his eyes looked like they could pop out of their sockets at any time and he stood so uncharacteristically still that it seemed like he might not even be breathing. Actually, he wasn't breathing. His entire brain and body had decided to just stop functioning. Barry couldn't believe what he was reading. His dad would be released? The case would be re-opened? Re-examined?

Barry wasn't sure how long he stood like that, but eventually he gulped in some air, feeling a little dizzy, and then tears began to fall. Before he could stop himself, he'd made a very embarrassing sobbing noise. Not just a noise, he was literally sobbing. "I-I never... I-I... th-thanks... I..." He couldn't speak and his entire body was trembling now. When he went to Dio about his dad's case, he never really imagined anything could be done. No one else had been able to, but here it was. Progress. Freedom. He was going to be able to meet his dad without glass between them for the first time in over a decade.

#goldentemplariumcrow #barry is breaking down just a little #but at least it is a good breakdown

[rubywithin]

Who to Trust? 13

I went to the morning meeting and as expected everyone was on edge....this time the provided information was too personal. The pictures could of been a random guess on who we would target for all we knew. (Sora) “Like last time I’m going to go ahead and assume everyone revealing their envelope info is out of the question!”. (Ein) “I’m going to have to say yes...” (Ellie) “Ein...” (Naruma) “Don’t worry about it, it’s common for people to have their secrets”. (Sora) “Then let’s be more vigilant and make sure no one tries attacking anyone...”. (Aurel) “That’s easier said than done” I could feel the anger shift towards Aurel for his outburst. “Face it we can’t observe each other 24 7, even if we get through the 3 day’s I’m sure Hedgy will just give another reason to kill!”. (Gina) “Then we just resist that one too, we can’t just expect ourselves to kill each other!”. She was right but we are trapped here so there is nothing we can do....also what if the one in charge decides to kill us all themselves.......this situation is rough. 

(Ellie) “Guy’s we need to stop arguing, how about we discuss the issue more later!”. (Yuri) “Oh please you will be the first to jump on someone when an issue pops up....Ein I’m sorry”. (Ein) “Yuri please forget about what happened before we need to move on” part of me wonders if this motive would of been as effective if used before? (Enrique) “Yuri let’s go to the pool I’m sure that will help you to relax” relax...does he talk with the puppet when he feels tense? I decided to go to the library, I felt it was time to take the book Aurel mentioned. (Isabelle) “Oh are you already finished your previous book?” wow she popped up out of no where! (Ein) “Nope I just feel I need a new book, reading the previous one will just remind of the day I read that letter with my secret!”. (Isabelle) “Ah I see yeah I get that sometimes too, pst do you need me to set up a camera?”. I did not expect her to ask me that....I nodded.

We set up the camera behind the stage, I felt like I chose this spot as it seemed like a spot someone could try and use for hiding something. After all there isn’t a reason for us to use the performance stage, (Isabelle) “All done I’m guessing I can’t ask for the other camera locations?”. (Ein) “Pretty much, for all I know you could be using me” (Isabelle) “True I guess, just let me know if you need any more help”. As she left I took out the book.....there was some sort of note in between the pages of the chapter Aurel mentioned! It was a map but it has markings for some reason...wait a second one is on the stage. I decided to go over to the library front desk which was also marked. Hmm I see so it looks like the marked areas are points with blind spots from the camera’s. Aurel....have you been checking for these when everyone else thought you were in the lab? But why would he give me the map? Hmm one of these spots has a star on it for some reason, it was in the toilet at the restaurant.

I decided to have a drink first....I can’t let Hedgy see that I’m checking out these spots. After my drink I went into the toilet....I noticed a phial behind a soap bottle it had a note inside....I guess I’m lucky to be the first to notice. I took the note but left the bottle in case any one else has casually seen it. I got a little bit of reading in before the night time meeting, as usual we all signed our names. (Ellie) “Hey um Ein can we hang out tomorrow?” I agreed to this, afterwards we all went back too our rooms. I tried to quickly slip the piece of paper between the pages of the book....(Paper) “To whoever is reading this, I want you to know this is not the first instance of this killing game. I Aurel Varese am a survivor of a previous one, somewhere the mastermind is hiding. My goal is to find and poison them so we can escape!” Aurel....good luck.

[niamhsperformancelab]

Week 8~ Nature and Performance Lab

I didn't make any progress on the soundtrack as intended over the weekend. On the Monday, I spent the day making up for lost time. At this point, I was getting bored of the soundtrack as I aimed to have it 10 minutes long (approximately 2 minutes per scene) and was mainly manipulating samples instead of creating a soundtrack of just musical instruments which is what I am more familiar with. I have never made a soundtrack let alone a full song (using a midi keyboard as well) so I was really pushing myself out of my comfort zone. Since I was working on this remotely as it was easiest to do in a quiet environment where there were no interruptions, it meant the collaborative aspect to this section of the project was removed. Ultimately this was down to not having the time to get constant feedback/ make many alterations to what I was making, it just had to be done in time. I feel as though my group were understanding of this and trusted me to do a good job of this part of our performance. I was also using the storyboard I had made during the first two weeks of this semester as a constant reference to make sure what I was creating related to what was happening within the performance and to make sure it linked back up with all of the other story boards.

(Tuesday)

We were very aware that our Nature Lab outcome was being neglected at this point in time so we decided to use this week to complete as much of it as possible. Upon inspection, the wire we had asked Hemza to buy from hobby craft was on the thinner side and would need reinforcement in order for it to withstand having things attached to it. Our solution to this was twisting each pice of wire around itself to make it double the thickness. Some longer pieces we repeated this process to make them even more sturdy and to make the intended form more secure. It needed this structure as the tubing and the leaves would be attached to the wire frame base. Once we me and Zoe had twisted enough separate pieces of wire, we combined them to make one whole structure:

After dividing the leaves equally, attempting to give a similar amount of blank ones, ones with roots, ones with bark and ones with mushrooms to everyone, I began to fill my own in. While the others selected watercolours as their medium, I opted for pro markers as their leaves started to buckle under the water content of the paper. We chose not to use acrylic paint, oil paint, or anything similar as we were aware that once these had dried, the water would not be able to penetrate the paper in the way that we needed it to. While using pro markers meant I was slightly more limited on my colour choices in comparison to the others, I was still able to use the colour palettes made by Liz on each leaf.

After lunch me and Zoe had our meeting with the head of school. This meeting had been on my mind all throughout grad+ week and while I was nervous about it, I was keen to find a solution to the issues we were having. I felt as though while I could have made more of an effort to repair things with Amie after the meeting, I didn't have the energy to do so and my priority was to make sure everything was completed in time for our hand in. I also like to think that I am a nice person, capable of separating friendships and work so that if we were to work with each other in the future there would be no issues on my end. This whole situation has reminded me of how well I can carry myself. Being polite, articulate, knowing what is appropriate and raising valid concerns to my peers as well as higher authorities.

(friday)

We had group tutorials with Lara and Sarah which was a good way of listing out everything that needed doing in order to be ready for our hand in next Friday. Sarah went through the items she could share with us from her own project meaning we wouldn't have to buy new resources and could recycle her scraps. We also had another discussion of how to get the water throughout the piece which we narrowed down to either buying an Arduino motor pump or buying an IV bag of sorts. Sarah also gave us suggestions for different connectors that would allow us to divert streams of water through the tubes.

As I could paint my leaves at home, I wanted to focus on things I didn't have access to, such as the coding for the Nanopixels. Sarah set me up with the laptopand showed me how to use the libraries and presets/example codes for the lights. These gave me insight into what was possible. My aim was to have the colours blue, green and purple, maybe even red, on a twinkling effect to mimic how when light hits a starling, those first three colours reflect. To begin with I tried getting the blue, purple and green to fade smoothly into one another. This was because at the start, there would be a break in the code causing the lights to switch harshly or briefly turn off. What I found most difficult about this section of code was understanding the whole "i" variable and how the line of code would effect the way the colours fade. I feel as though my knowledge of maths definitely helped me come to terms with the phrases and by the end I understood what each term meant. I stayed at the school of Art until 8:30pm that night as I wanted to have some success from the day of coding. Here are the results: