#i think this could belong on science tumblr

[hopefullyandrogynousartist]

so I don't know if anyone else had this thing when they were a kid, but did anyone else see a definitive man or woman in the future they would imagine?

I will explain. You're five again, and you're imagining your ideal life when you're an adult. Did you imagine a spouse? If you did, was it definitely a man or woman?

I never imagined a definitive man or woman, and the best to describe it was a blob that was definitely human, but with no real distinct features. Maybe I'd imagine a more feminine or more masculine human shape, but that was the extent of it. Currently, I identify as a lesbian. Not sure how much that has to do with it, but you never know!

Please reblog/comment with details, I'm genuinely super curious.

#lesbian #imagine #polls #science tumblr #i think this could belong on science tumblr #tumblr polls #partner #ideal partner #nostalgia #sorta nostalgia #childhood #like this could just have been a me thing #but i dont think so

[spacedace]

Reluctant War AU Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol

Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol

Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha

Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do

---

It lived beneath his skin.

For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.

It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.

It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.

A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.

Except.

Except.

Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

Lived.

Not existed. Not contained. Lived.

He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.

He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.

It lived beneath his skin.

Until it didn’t.

He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.

He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.

To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.

He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.

He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.

It had been different, recently.

His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.

He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.

In the dream, he was in a room.

Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.

The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.

In the dream he felt like he was dying.

In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.

That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.

He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.

Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.

He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.

It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.

He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.

She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.

Or JL light, for that matter.

Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.

A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -

He tried not to think about the or.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.

The world burned back to life in sharp relief.

The dream.

The room.

Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.

It looked larger on the screen.

Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.

She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -

Looking at him.

The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.

But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.

The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.

She lived beneath his skin.

He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.

Not as felt as she used to be.

The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.

It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.

Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:

Run.

Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.

All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.

He wasn’t alone.

Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.

They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.

Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.

The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #barry allen #justice league #flashfam #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #ancient of the speedforce elle #ever onward elle #amanda waller #eldritch speedforce #kinda #unsettling speedforce at the very least #cut to 20 minutes later to all of the speedsters & Elle at a waffle house having the world's most awkward family reunion #Dick gets a call from his bank about his card being used to buy several thousand dollars worth of breakfast food in another state #& immediate calls Wally like #Dick: YOU TOOK OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF A FULL ON WAR IN GOTHAM TO GO GET WAFFLES? #(because of course he gave Wally his card - he's bought Wally a god damn expensive ass apartment they're basically married) #Dick: I THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING MIND CONTROLLED #Wally: ....sorta? But like...in a good way? #Dick: How can there POSSIBLY be a good way of being mind controlled?! #Wally: you know what actually I'm gonna make our new mom explain this one #Dick: ...WHAT DOES THAT *MEAN*???

[sunrise-imagines]

I have a big fat crush on Simon and Finn would you please do some hcs for either of them

Since I’ve already done some for Finn, I think now is a good time to write a little for Simon! Watching him become the latest Tumblr Sexyman™️ has been a dream come true.

*Ending contains spoilers for the last two episodes of Fionna and Cake*

TW: Trauma (this is Simon “‘My fiancé turned into a cosmic deity’ ‘That’s rough buddy’” Petrikov we’re dealing with), mentions of Depression, hurt/comfort

Simon Petrikov x Reader General Relationship Headcanons

• Oh boy, this one’s a doozy.

• Please be patient with him. He is a mess of a person currently, still dealing with the grief of losing Betty and feeling like he doesn’t belong in Ooo no longer being magic. He gets so wrapped up in his sadness that he can neglect the relationships he has in the present. This gets much better after the ending though.

• Self care days are a must, please just pamper this man with a nice hot bath and a massage every once in a while.

• Really good cook, he loves making food for you and it makes him feel like he can actually take care of you.

• He worries about you a lot, especially if you’re someone that likes to take risks and do dangerous stuff.

• He’s a big nerd so he gets excited if you share interests in stuff like science and literature.

• Although he doesn’t like to go on life-threatening adventures (Finn), he still loves the exploring the outdoors and the two of you regularly go for hikes around the safer parts of Ooo.

• Will be very happy if you also have a good friendship with Marceline, seeing his partner and adoptive daughter interact touches his heart.

• Such a simp for you, like if you ask him for anything he will make it his mission to fulfill your request

• His love language is definitely words of affirmation. He needs you to tell him how much you care about him and he loves saying the same to you. He could go on for hours about every little thing he loves about you.

• Marcy and Bonnie will come over for dinner a few times a week, sometimes joined by Finn and HW as well.

• He hates celebrating his own birthday (he’s turning 60) but he loves yours and will definitely bake you a cake and throw small birthday party for you. The party only consists of a few close friends but if you don’t like parties he’s perfectly fine with it being just the two of you.

• At first he wasn’t sure if you would even want to date an old man like him, but as time went on he became more confident in himself and that he deserves love just as much as anyone else, and he’s more than happy to share that love with you.

Bonus!

• Despite her current state, GolBetty is immensely happy seeing Simon finally able to move on and be happy.

• Even if they never got their happy ending, the fact that you and him are able to live happily together brings her peace, and she trusts you to take care of him.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time imagines #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #adventure time fanfic #adventure time #simon petrikov x reader #simon x reader #ice king x reader #sfw #sfw headcanons #fionna and cake

[cauliplea]

YANDERE!RATIO HEADCANONS!

Authors Note: Starting this off with an apology because I have lost the request for this. (I'm not good with Tumblr.) I also apologize for being away for so long; I just didn't feel like writing. As the name suggests, this is all the headcanons me and my beta reader (Dandelion) have come up with. Please enjoy. 

I do love yandere stuff; however, the anon requested Angst headcanons, but I'm not sure how to make this angsty since they're headcanons, so here are some general headcanons:

☆──────────────────────☆

☆ At first he'd be confused about his feelings; the man knows the textbook definition of love, not the actual emotion, especially not when it's the unhealthy kind. 

☆ After the initial shock, the next stage is denial. No matter how much he tries to reject his feelings, he can't help the way his eyes follow you every time and how his thoughts are filled with you. 

☆ his obsession would start off small, just watching your every move and keeping mental notes of your schedule, but soon the mental thoughts manifested themselves into an actual book only for his eyes to see. 

☆  He finds it cute but also so frustrating how oblivious you are to his advances; he could gauge out his heart and hand it to you, yet you'd still look at him in a dumbfounded way. 

☆ This man is obsessed with knowledge; he knows you better than you know yourself. your friends? He has already researched all of them and made sure they wouldn't get in his way. You have to go somewhere? He's already following you from behind and making sure you don't get into any accidents.

☆ However, if you did get in an accident, he's the type of person to scold you while bandaging your wounds. Outside, his brows might be furrowed and his voice might be sharp, but inside, his heart is racing at the opportunity of feeling your skin. 

☆ He is very possessive; he doesn't like people touching his belongings, and that includes you. literally. If anyone ever tried taking you away from him, he would immediately get them in trouble. He won't do it directly; oh no, he can't risk his reputation like that. The man might be head over heels for you, but he still cares about his image. 

☆ He wouldn't kill or injure people. 

Unless it's absolutely necessary, it's a waste of time, and he doesn't want to dirty his hands. The method he uses to get them out of the picture is to get them expelled or suspended. (Bad comparison, I know, but it's like the expelling method in yandere simulator.) The teachers trust him, so they take his words as fact.

☆ if that doesn't work, he'd dig up dirt on the person and badmouth them until you subconsciously start avoiding them, or belittle the person to the point of insecurity until they leave you alone. cruel, I know, but that's how yanderes are. 

☆ if he had to result in violence, then he wouldn't have to do much; just one hit with his book is enough to knock a man down. With his knowledge of science, he wouldn't leave any evidence behind either. 

☆ he'd insult your intelligence in classes and then propose the idea of letting him tutor you, begging himself in his head that you'd agree. And in those said tutoring lessons, you can practically count how many times he "accidentally" touched your hand while correcting your mistakes.

☆ he'd love taking photos of you; the book he had of you would contain a lot of them, but he doesn't stop at photos, he'd make an entire statue of you to admire it. 

☆ personal opinion, but I think this many would be into body worship; he recognizes beauty, and he'd be on his knees for you, but he also wants the same treatment for himself. 

☆ the way he'd confess would be perfect— too perfect, actually. He has done so much research that he knows exactly how you'd want to get asked out and where. He'd play out your fantasies as if it were a stage play to make sure you'd fall in love with him even if you weren't earlier. 

☆ His obsession wouldn't waver at all when you two got into a relationship— quite the opposite. He loves the idea that he could now take photos of you freely and admire your actual body rather than a mere stone replacement of you. 

☆ his jealousy would worsen too, but he would never dare to hurt you in any way; he'd rather bang his head against the wall repeatedly than lay a hand on you. He rather takes his jealousy out in more tame ways, like wrapping his arm around your waist or standing ominously behind you and glaring at the person, even though he hates PDA. 

☆──────────────────────☆

Author's note (again): I feel like I might turn this into a series. I do deeply apologize if this wasn't what you wanted, Anon. Please feel free to submit again. <3

P.S: Is it obvious in starting to get rid of doing the whole "eye-pleasing aesthetic" thing?

★──────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────────★

Cauliplea On Ao3.

#honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr dr ratio #hsr x reader #hsr #dr. ratio x you #honkai star rail smut #dr ratio #cross posted on ao3 #not beta read #they died

[roach-works]

I’m always a bit nervous to talk about being Jewish on the internet. In part, I’m afraid of getting outright antisemitic harassment, and in part it’s because a lot of positive discussion of Judaism ends up getting hijacked by oblivious goyim who turn the discussion sour, no matter how well-meaning they might be.

So, it makes me really happy to see you writing openly and unabashedly about being jewish. Whether you’re writing from a place of celebration, social-media-exasperation, sorrow, joy, education, frustration, or any of them at once, it’s always good to see people talking openly. I’m starting to think that I could follow your example, and be a bit less anxious.

I know I’m just a tumblr stranger, but I want say thank you. Even the little things help! :)

aw, thanks for the sweet ask! being jewish was definitely the least and most 'minor' piece of my identity until uhhhh yknow. nazis started being real again. but i remember slamming into this weird realization a couple years ago that i had put a lot of effort into learning to respectfully depict black people, because i wanted to be a thoughtful and conscientious ally, and because i firmly believed that fantasy and science fiction should belong to everyone... but i had never even once thought of drawing a man that looked like my family.

like, i thought i was white. and then i thought, i'm white and jewish. and then i thought, what if i drew this podcast character as jewish? what if i drew him as if he looked like my uncle or my dad or my brother? and then i felt, immediately, reflexively: absolute terror.

generational trauma, growing up in the shadow of the holocaust, living and working in the midwest, you just... you hide that part of yourself. you survive. you don't get loud and proud and angry. you live like a mouse, in the corners, in what space you gnaw out for yourself.

i still don't wear a star of david. so many of my coworkers wear crosses but so many of my coworkers have guns. i think of wearing a gold star around the people who i've already cheerfully told i was gay, and my hands sweat. i think everyone who goes outside with that kind of target on their chest is phenomenally brave.

there is a bone deep terror in me of my own jewishness, of when i'll have to pay for it, of what the bill will be, of what i might do or say that's a little too loud or clumsy or obvious or true, and thus sign my own warrant. jews are so brave and so strong to keep living through all this but like have you seen the midrash? have you seen how many generations of our sages left behind the distilled wisdom of a lifetime and it boiled down to be secret, be safe.

jewish representation is so fucking fraught! the theif, the banker, the pedophile, the goblin, the bones in the oven. we don't often get to tell our own stories, or wear our own faces. and even when we have the opportunity, it's terrifying. we flinch. how jewish is superman, really? our hero, our ubermench, the most famous converso. we joke around, we make coded allusions, we minimize.

it's hard to walk into the spotlight and smile when you don't know if you're in a theater or a prison yard, you know?

so. i don't know. i don't know! sorry to explode on you! i'm going to a christmas party at a bar tomorrow. i live in indiana and work a blue collar job with guys who think trump was a whole lot of fun but invited me specifically and promised to buy me a pint. there'll be ax throwing and free drinks and i'm probably going to have to explain hannukah for the fifty millionth time. second verse, same as the first, a little bit louder and a whole lot worse.

the sages write: be secret, be safe. survive. but even with all that weight, you've got to be brave, you know? i think you know. you can't live your life in the dark. you can't make art from the fetal position.

even the mouse deserves a day out.

#maus #jewish blogging #nightblogging #roach's kawaii life

[bitchesgetriches]

I've been thinking for a few weeks now since I read your article about how you shouldn't go to grad school. And I've been thinking about how much I disagree... for certain instances. To be clear, I am working on my PhD in a material science program in a low cost "city" in the United States, just entering my third year. I went to grad school because I knew from I wanted to do research. I want to (in ~2 years) be working in a national lab. I want to do research. I knew this from the first time I used a sputtering tool in undergrad (~4 years ago) (yes I can straight to PhD from undergrad).

As I was reading your article, I was sad. Now I know, not all grad school is research and I believe your experience wasn't research. But I feel like you could have added the positives of going to grad school, the people that it's good for. If you want to do research, grad school is probably a great place for you to be. Yeah, the pay sucks (but you can make it work) and the hours sometimes suck too (why does everyone want to use the TEM, let me use it not at 5pm on Saturday someday please), but you can really love what you do. I love doing research, I belong here. I would be miserable working a desk job.

I hope I'm getting my point across, I usually love what you do (I've been following since 2016, but went away from Tumblr for a few years). When I moved into my first apartment, I looked to you for advise. Same with starting my emergency savings and just recently a IRA (pay sucks, took a bit to get there). I'm just do glad I didn't read your article before I started grad school because it can be great and just what I needed.

No matter what though, I still love you and what you do! <3

Hey, thanks for writing in, honey! And you know what? We agree.

We mention a couple times in the article that there are exceptions. If you're going to be a working scientist for example (medical doctors, biologists, archaeologists, astrophysicists, researchers of all stripes, etc)... you absolutely must go to grad school! And get your PhD!

But for people who aren't working in a specialized or scientific field? That's where our hard stance on grad school applies.

Sorry we didn't make that more clear. We're always happy to go back and update stuff, so I've gone ahead and edited the article to make it clear that there are exceptions. If you see something else we've screwed up, tell us and we'll fix it.

22-Year-Olds Don't Belong in Grad School 

If you found this helpful, consider joining our Patreon.

#grad school #careers #higher education #careers in science

[1-1sundial]

just realized tumblr finally gives me a place to share my hlvrai conspiracy theory.

first of all, let's examine this diagram:

i think there's no debate that Dr. Coomer belongs in the top left here.

Gordon also definitely belongs in the bottom right. he is the most normal one in the group, and the only weird thing that happens with him is his arm turns into a gun via potion.

Bubby is in the top because of his cybernetics, and him being created by black mesa. he is in the right because frankly, i think he's acting the same as anyone in his position would be acting. everything he says that's strange is just him being familiar with the weirdness of the science team.

Tommy on the left makes sense, but i need to explain why Tommy definitely belongs in the bottom.

Tommy is the G-man's son, yes, but presumably he's the G-man's adopted son, given he says he's an orphan.

Tommy knows how to make a magical dog, and knows the intricacies of the black mesa sweet voice, but that's all stuff that you can probably just learn.

Tommy never mentions he has clones or prototypes or anything; Gordon notices one such scientist who looks like Tommy, but when he asks Tommy if he has clones, Tommy ignores the question and it never comes up again.

most importantly, however, Tommy is not immortal.

Dr. Coomer and Bubby both have the bit where they take lethal damage and temporarily turn into a corpse and then a few seconds later they come back and they're fine. but at no point during the main hlvrai series does Tommy die on screen. presumably he, like Gordon, manages to simply survive everything that black mesa throws at him. he gets blood on him all the time but there's healing stations, and most of it is probably not his own blood.

there's only two possible exceptions to this. the first possible exception is when Tommy falls down a pit during a parkour section, but reappears at the end. he justifies this by saying that it was actually just a big slide, and he looped around and came back up. honestly i believe him.

the second exception is the literal last thing that happens in the series, after the credits roll, but before Dr. Coomer's parting message. Tommy is talking about how much he loves his dog, Sunkist, before he gets punched in the back of the head by Bubby and ragdolls forward. this is the last time that Tommy appears (not including the ACAB stream or the commentary but that stuff might not be canon) and my conspiracy theory is that this might have killed Tommy, because Tommy was never confirmed to be immortal.

he's just a normal human guy! a 36 year old child! how could he survive a sudden unexpected punch to the back of the head from a cybernetically augmented resonance cascade survivor? that punch might have killed him. you could hear him flatlining. he might be dead. anyways bye thank you for reading.

#hlvrai #tommy coolatta #half life vr but the ai is self aware #silly

[krsnaradhika]

What do you think is the best quality of Indian Muslims? Do you think they are better?

I have had quite a few family friends who practice Islam, a few classmates and friends too. I'll be honest, I'm not very social— almost aloof at times because I believe starting a convo with someone you have not spoken to ever = annoying them. Even when we are talking, the discussion never gets political. It remains between casual family stuff and academics. So yeah, I'm not entirely sure what could be the best quality of an entire community because every single person is built different?

I think many of them have done significant contributions in the fields of Indian classical music, science, history, politics and all like literally every religion? There are many soldiers belonging to the Muslim community fighting for us on the borders so they deserve our deference and gratitude? I think in general they are very normal people? Common folks like you and me? See, as long as a person isn't prejudicial on the basis of another one's caste/ creed/ religion/ gender/ sexuality/ nationality/ literally anything that isn't in their control, doesn't impose their own beliefs, is not disrespectful and does not monger baseless hate for anyone, they're a good one. Our homies.

Better than whom, tho? Like- from Muslims of other countries or people of other communities? Again, can you stereotype? There are good and bad people in every faith. Saudi Arabia is an ally, so are many other Islamic states. Everyone is chill, anon, there are just a few pseudo-liberals with free net and no job here on Tumblr who like to project hindublr blogs as Islamophobic and casteist. I have problems with people who think all the secular logic only applies in the favor of minorites in India, Hindus live in an utopian world while launching hell on others and have been 100% unscathed since the beginning of time. As if our ancestors haven't suffered enough and crimes aren't happening against us still, to this date. You chant 'Jai Shri Ram' and you're a saffron terrorist. Please touch some grass y'all. Lol.

#hindublr #answered #hinduism #the ask and the anon were very confusing to me tbh #like what did you expect me to say? #is there any correct answer to these questions or something?

[make-your-own-evil]

may I request the different riddlers with a s/o who's a video game developer?

Also unesscary fun fact that I thought was cute and wanted to share:

A group of bunnies is scientifically called a fluffle

no, i think that fact was very necessary, thank you science side of tumblr

also im assuming you want some headcanons :) p.s. you didnt specify which riddlers you wanted so i just chose four <3 i hope thats okay!

note: feel free to reblog! just please give credit where credit is due :)

Riddlers w/ a GameDeveloper!S/O

BTAS!Riddler:

youre a game dev?! he is too!

....or rather he was.

ideally hes the best riddler to be with if youre a game developer. equal parts knowledgeable, helpful and caring

at first, he may see you as perhaps a rival, but if youre together, hes all for helping you out with whatever you need!

he unfortunately never got to see his own game "the riddle of the minotaur" come to fruition, so he may want to be more involved than what you would like

that game belongs to the both of you now, sorry

he adores that you have the same passions as him. but unlike his own past, he will see to it that NOTHING stops you from developing your game

just say the word and he will have your game downloaded onto every computer in all of gotham, the big simp 💕

Arkham!Riddler:

what would you like to know?

this man was the head of the GCPD's cyber crime unit, im sure he would be able to answer ANY question you could possibly have

these days he comes off as a guy who couldnt be bothered to help you create a childish game... buy hey, he loves you and isnt that what he technically does all day anyways? you just have to add in the possibility of actually dying to his games

he ends up helping you in his free time ❤

how could he resist? his darling needs his help coding and coding is his second language!

he acts very "put out" with you at first. throwing in the occasional insult because thats just how he talks when hes trying to explain something to someone

he is proud though! never will you ever hear him say it but he truly is. maybe you and he could incorporate some of his malware for the good people of gotham...

Dano!Riddler:

helping you with your game is his second job now! even if hes not getting paid

its no secret that this riddler would be a giant simp, so anything you ask of him, he will deliver 😍

in between his job as a forensics accountant and also being the riddler, he will always find time to check in on your progress. do you need help? do you need him to check your code? do you want something to drink? okay! hell just be over your shoulder if you need anything 😊

he will patiently explain to you how to do something the best he can. computers are really just a second nature to him, so having to explain it isnt exactly a familiar thing to him. bear with him!

he will be the first one to play your game!

no matter how easy your game is to him, he sees it as his obligation to support you in any way he can. whether your game is for a phone, pc or whatever, hes keeping it on his device forever

he would give you lots of praise and he also makes sure you know how amazing he thinks you are

Capullo!Riddler:

this asshole may not care at first that youre working on a game... that is until he realizes you could join forces to bring gotham to its knees

sure! he loves you! but this eddie is a narcissist and a control freak (more than the other riddlers)

he is right there with you in developing your game

he insists that you make him your partner in all of this. he also insists that he create the basic premise of the challenges your game has.

your game is required to be intellectually challenging! its a must! no S/O of his will create something that caters to the simple-minded!

and maybe you could also let him install a few viruses and malware?

he doesnt mean to sabotage your game! hes just thinking of your common goals. why not create a game that also eradicates those who are unworthy to live in your city?

he calls the game "our baby" 😊

#riddler #the riddler #capullo riddler #dano riddler #arkham riddler #bats riddler #riddler x reader #the riddler x reader #riddler headcanons #the riddler headcanons #zero year riddler #zero year riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #btas riddler x reader #arkham riddler x reader #edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader

[laulo821]

to clarify my opinion on "proper" english, idfc how people write in their personal lives/to friends or family/etc, but in professional/published works- or anything that is meant to be understood by a wider audience i think the clarity provided by adhering to certain grammatical rules and structure is veeerrry important eheheh. for the sake of ease of communication!

i try to be pretty careful about my word choice and order allll the time for that reason, even if i drop a lot of proper spelling/capitalization/punctuation for casual dialogue.

nonetheless, i think when people act intentionally obtuse just to shame people for speaking casually/colloquially/with slang/whatever thats stupid and evil etc. hate when people do that. i might not understand a lot of it, but it has the right to exist yk! it is just as worthy of respect ^_^

anyways i think this topic is very interesting as well its something i enjoy talking about :33

once again i dare ask, where does the professional/private begins and stops? thats a big debate we had in termonology class (terminology , the science of terms aka specialised & professional words). some terminologists argue that terms are only employed in the field by top-notch experts to top-notch experts and nothing else qualifies as a term. other terminologists argue that funk that: "spoonful" is a term because it belongs to the professional sector of cooking, disregarding how common/unspecialised it may be (they dont actually disregard it but yknow). also some guy who goes fishing as a hobby every week and starts talking about the components of his rod to his friends: not an expert (meaning doesn't work as a fisherman)! but using specialised words! should they count as terms or common words? should that be considered professional discussion cuz the terms or private discussion cuz he's talking to a friend? anyways it's just to say that the gap between professional and private discussions may not be so clear

on a same note, what is a wider audience? we're on the internet literally everyone could read that post, making it, by its nature, designed for a wide audience. should every tumblr post thus should have proper english? likewise, works that were only notes and scribbles, like Les Pensées by Pascal that were published post-mortem... it was not meant for a wider audience in that state and is not always using proper French. due to this, are thus Les Pensées not a piece of literature anymore? (kinda teasing w this paragraph hehe but you see the issue i'm poking)

like you said the most important task of a language is not to be proper. it is to be spoken but also to be effective. to enable communication. we could also go all in and dare say, funk the rules as long as a message or piece or literature is understandable, it is proper english!! arguably, every broken rule of proper english creates a new variation of english that could be its own proper variation english (like UK english, US english, NZ english, etc, coexist together as proper englishes)

also youre soso true about the shaming stuff. dawg that pisses me OFF. that's why fuck the Académie Française i wish i could dismember that bullshit of an institution. they are the ones "making the rules" of French but NONE OF THOSE FUCKERS ARE LINGUISTS AND ALSO ARE ALL 109 YEARS OLD HOW CAN THEY im cool im cool [insert the hades calming down gif]. anyways. language belongs to the people so whatever they do with it it's fine as long as they have fun and are themselves <3

on a final note i'm heavily arguing against you here but i think you're overall right nonetheless :p rigor may not always be needed in a language but languages need a strong basis and grammatical rules to exist and actually make the communication efficient!! i perfectly see your points and they are very legit

#rambling #ask #i'm a very laissez-faire kinda linguist if you hadnt noticed #maybe cuz neologism is my favourite subscience of linguistics #linguistics #sorry if some parts arent clear . unlike you i don't think much about the order of the words im using which . i should #happens to me all the time in french too #anyways soso interesting topic i love to talk about it hehe <3<3 #thamks zapirn-bru <3 #frens

[hopefullyandrogynousartist]

HELLO CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHY MIGRAINES HAPPEN.

#i think this could belong on science tumblr #science tumblr #migranes #my head hurts and my leds are turned as low as possible i dont know how im going to pull off showering tonight

[izukuwus]

Edible Arrangements 37

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: someone remind me to revamp the tumblr formatting for literally all of these chapters both for consistency and so that the titles are actually a thing on tumblr rather than just ao3

Summary: Some pieces are picked up. Some are put back together. Some fall back apart.

Warnings: sad kitten :(

Word Count: 3700 words

This big house holds more empty space in it than space it holds.

Izuku has held onto it, all these years, out of love, out of respect. He has held onto it because he must. He has held onto it because of the memories it doesn't hold.

His mother never made a meal in this kitchen. Never stocked the freezer with emergency cookie dough in case someone had a bad day. Yagi's car never entered the driveway, and Yagi never paused at the door to kiss his mother and ask how her day went. When he showed up for the first time, he wondered if it was worse that they had never gotten the chance to make memories here. His childhood home had become a teenaged apartment had been thrown mercilessly back onto the market the day after he’d come to collect all the boxes, everything already packed for a move that never came.

This house had only ever been his, and then it had been his and yours, and now it didn’t feel like anyone’s. He’d rot in there for days if only Sbeve would let him, the silence settling thick around him like fog.

And then there had come the knock on the door, followed soon after by the door creaking open. He hadn’t bothered fixing it.

Part of him wants to imagine the footsteps belong to you. Wants to imagine you’re coming home, that he’d done something wrong and you’d remembered and you’re coming back to him.

And then he’s sick to his stomach with worry at the idea of you being here and knowing who he was when he inevitably died, and he hoped instead that it was his sire, returning after all these years to finally just kill him already. It’d be a fitting end for a monster who deserved to be alone.

Sbeve was meowing downstairs, getting closer. Whoever had entered this haunted house was following him further in—across the living room, up the stairs, down the hall. Footsteps stopped at his door, and a plaintive meow urged the intruder inside.

Maybe it really was you, come home.

The door creaked as it opened. Izuku nearly hisses as the light from the hall falls on his face. The sound that meets his ears is not your voice, worrying for him, nor even a gasp.

It’s a long-suffering sigh. Honestly, too long-suffering to match with its owner.

“You look horrible.”

He doesn’t reply. A single green eye is all that peeks out from among the blankets and mass of fluff atop his head, watching the silhouette stare at him from the doorway.

“You need to drink something.”

Izuku simply stares at him, hoping he’ll get the message. Besides, by now, he’s sluggish enough that movement is hardly an option. Maybe he’ll get to find out whether vampires hibernate soon. It’s science he’s doing, not depression. Really. He might even write it down.

Tenya strides across the room, flicking on the light as he goes. “This isn’t negotiable. Stay alive at least long enough for us to kill him, and then I can take the cat and you can do whatever you want.” He sets a blood bag carelessly on the bed, right in front of Izuku’s face. It sloshes with a warmth of life that has Izuku’s stomach somersaulting.

If vampires can get sick, he is sick, and the thought of drinking that… that stuff has it worsening by the moment.

“Drink it or I’ll make you. I’m not going to kill him alone.”

“You could.”

“You and I both know that if one person alone could kill him, he’d be dead already.”

He sighs. He turns his face away from the light.

“I hope you know that I’m not joking about forcing you to drink it.”

He grumbles in return.

There’s a pause where he thinks maybe Tenya is about to leave. Then, he’s being manhandled until his face is accessible, and dammit, he doesn’t have the strength left to do much more than yell about it until the blood bag is pierced onto his fangs. Tenya has him held down, unable to do anything but nearly drown in the blood now flooding his mouth until his assailant brings up a hand to help control the flow.

And shit, it’s good. He drinks like he’s spent days walking through the desert, and to be fair, he has been depriving himself, so the comparison isn’t completely outlandish. Sbeve has had him to sip off of; he has had no one.

Tenya squeezes the bag with some force, and sparks fly off Izuku in retaliation. He has to force himself to dial back his quirk before he breaks furniture, the ceiling, or bones as he chokes on the blood, and then, he’s sitting up and snatching the bag from Tenya.

“Fuck you,” he mutters.

Tenya merely rolls his eyes. “I’m not letting you decide to back out now that you’ve done the first part, and you’re not the only person who [name]’s forgotten. You’re going to pull yourself together long enough to kill this man, and then you can do whatever you want. In the meantime, I am not going to be the only person gathering information on him, and you’re going to get out of this house.”

“Since when were you in charge of me? I do what I want.”

“You don’t want to do anything right now. And in case me shoving a bag into your mouth wasn’t clear enough, I don’t care what you want. Do you want the Death Adder dead?”

“Of course I—“

“Then get the hell out of here and work for it. We need information, and you need to not rot in bed while I do all the work.”

He glares, but he doesn’t protest. Tenya wrinkles his nose. “The first thing you’re doing is finishing that blood and taking a shower.”

Izuku snorts. “What, going to force me to do that, too?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

He has the unfortunate sense that Tenya will, in fact, manhandle him into the shower fully clothed if he must. Or, given the way the past few minutes has gone, he’s going to throw him out on the lawn and blast him with the garden hose. Best not to tempt it. “Whatever.” He throws his head back and finishes his meal. If he doesn’t have a choice, he supposes he’ll just have to force himself to keep moving.

~

from: [email protected]

Subject: Hakamada’s course

March 7th, 2051

Dr. Midoriya,

I hope this email finds you well. There has been an incident with one of the professors in your department. Dr. Hakamada has been hospitalized and will be receiving medical attention until further notice. I am unable to divulge further details at this time. Until his recovery, I am hoping that you will agree to take over his summer session courses. Please respond and let me know at your earliest convenience. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.

Regards,

Shouto Todoroki

Chancellor

~

Despite Tenya’s best efforts, Izuku spends his time wandering the house in a haze, although he does allow himself the luxuries of drinking, showering, and maybe even seeing the sunlight when he’s not worrying about his classes. The email certainly hasn’t helped matters—he can’t say for certain, but it does sound like his bastard sire may have been involved with it.

And yet, he needs to come up with an answer. And teaching classes in-person has never been his answer. And yet…

He doesn’t know what to do. He wanders the halls of his empty house, wondering when last he saw Sbeve was. Yesterday? Two days ago? The days pass in a blur. He can barely tell anyone what day it is at all—his only point of reference is that damned email.

“Sbeve?” he calls out into the halls. His voice is raw with disuse. Tenya’s the only one he’s spoken to in a while. “Where are you, buddy?”

No meow responds. A twinge of panic buds within him. Did Sbeve escape? Outdoor cats are already disastrous for the environment, let alone thirsty outdoor vampire cats who are somehow even better suited to killing than before, and it’s not like he’s gone out of his way to get his door fixed. Actually, he’s pretty sure it’s still just barely on the hinges.

So now, rather than wander aimlessly, he’s wandering with a purpose, listening out closely for the sound of his kitten.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he finds Sbeve. The relief doesn’t last long. There he is, sleeping curled against your bedroom door, which has remained closed since the day he enthralled you. He's stuck. Sbeve is sitting there, missing you, mournfully staring up at the closed door, and Izuku did this to him.

He's awful. He's so, so awful.

He did this. He got rid of you. You're safe now, he has to tell himself that. No matter what Hitoshi or any of the others tells him. Even Tenya supported his decision, so he has to be in the right here. Sbeve will just have to understand.

Still, as he sits there, crumpled on the carpet, crying (really crying) for the first time since you left (since he made you leave) Sbeve walks up to him. The kitten sits, and stares, and tilts his head. Then, he's crawling into Izuku's lap and curling up there with one tiny mew.

"Do you think I should try getting out of this place, too?" Izuku asks him.

Sbeve purrs in his lap, but doesn't lift his head. Izuku brings a hand up to gently pet him.

"Yeah. Maybe I should. Staying in here all day just reminds me of them."

That earns him another meow. Sbeve presses his head into Izuku's hand. He lets out a bitter laugh. "Maybe I should get the front door fixed, first."

Another meow, this time with a blank stare that reads, at least to Izuku, as: 'you think?'

He scoops up Sbeve, rolls his shoulders, and turns to look over the banister at the broken door. "Well, let's get to work, Sbeve. Think my summer semester students would like to meet you? Think you could handle meeting them without biting anyone?"

As Izuku parades him around on the search for his no-doubt dead cell phone, Sbeve lets out one final meow.

~

from: [email protected]

Subject: re: Hakamada's course

March 9th, 2051

Dr. Todoroki,

I'm sorry to hear about Dr. Hakamada! I'll gladly take over his summer semester courses. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to assist with the transition or if there's any files I can glance over to aid me in taking over his courses. I am, of course, curious to learn what happened to Dr. Hakamada, but I trust that that information will be divulged as it becomes necessary. Regardless, I can take over all needed courses while he recovers!

Regards,

Dr. Izuku Midoriya (he/him/his)

Department of Quirk Studies

University of Ossenfelder

~

"Where do you want me to put this?" Hitoshi asks.

"[name]'s stuff, right?" Mina shouts after him. "Back room's fine!"

Hitoshi sets down the box, and then they're both heading back out to gather more boxes. On the way down the stairs, Mina sighs. "Thank you for all your help, Hitoshi. You didn't have to come help us move."

"Nah, it's the least I can do. How're they doing?"

"At the main office with Tsuyu, signing stuff with the landlord and sorting out rent. Tsuyu and I are going to split their rent until they're back on their feet. ...Whenever that is."

The apartment had been a good investment. Mina, Tsuyu, and [name] had talked about it before, when the three of them had good jobs and were striking out of college dorms and all that. The only reason it hadn't worked out before had been [name]'s financial troubles, and with those only worsening now that Dr. Izuku Midoriya had come along to fuck up their life, the two who weren't catatonic had decided they'd just have to make it work. [name] couldn't sleep on Hitoshi's couch forever, after all.

The place itself was nice. Almost too nice, actually. It was right next to campus, with good parking, decent space, and no furnishings, which really meant no ugly furnishings to put up with for the next year.

"Well, they've been getting a lot better. I don't even have to brainwash them to get them to eat anymore."

"That's true. Thank you for all that, by the way. I don't know where we'd be without you."

"No, I'm just glad to help. Sucks that I can't do anything more."

She shakes her head as they arrive at the car. "You shouldn't have to. Honestly, you're already being a kickass friend just by being here. Better than someone I know."

He rolls his eyes. "Which over-financed vampire are you talking about?"

"Neito has an excuse. He's got some big family thing to deal with, and at least he's been helping. I don't think we could have found a place this good on our own. The other two, though? Don't get me started."

"Yeah. I get why Izuku's too cowardly to show his face, but Tenya?"

"He doesn't trust other vampires. I think because of what he did to [name]."

Another box, heaved onto the floor. Hitoshi places his own down, pausing to catch his breath. "How are you not out of breath right now?”

"What, because of the boxes? I dance. This is nothing."

"Yeah, but that's not exactly weight lifting!"

"No, but it is dancing."

"Great. Thanks for clearing that up."

"Anyways, I just hope that all of this helps. The crisis counseling and school psych and the aide and all that sound great, but... I don't know. I'm not sure anything can bring back the [name] we know except breaking the thrall those idiots put on them."

"No, but they're barely in a place for us to try it right now. At the very least, this keeps them moving a bit until they get to where we can break it."

She sighs. "Yeah... do you think this Ochako girl's going to be much help? I haven't met her yet."

"If nothing else, they'll be able to get back to taking classes."

Yeah. That was the goal. Preparing [name] for some bullshit professional life while they were only just regaining use of their arm and showing only the barest minimums of emotion on a good day.

"One summer semester's a good trial run, too. Give them the chance to ease back into being a real person."

"They're real now."

"You know what I mean. It's a victory if they eat when reminded to at this point."

"I know." She sighs. "I do."

The next trip up the stairs is taken in silence. At the top, they find [name] and Tsuyu, just opening the door.

"Hey, you two!" Mina greets, putting on her more usual cheery tone. "How was the office?"

[name] has a hint of confusion on their face. "Weird."

"Weird how? Did something happen?"

"Someone prepaid all of [name]'s rent for the next year," Tsuyu answers. "Apparently the landlord received a check from the university. The 'excessive hardship scholarship fund' for students facing undue hardship."

"Are my issues excessive...?" [name] mumbles softly.

"No, babe," Mina says. "But that's good! If nothing else, at least you get some financial compensation for everything."

"Um, yeah. I guess it is."

"And tomorrow, you get to meet with your aide for the summer semester! I've heard she's really nice. She should be great!"

"Yeah."

[name] brushes past her. In the absence of a couch for the time being, they find a spot on the floor and sit, fiddling with their cell phone. They haven't yet been cleared for things like unpacking, not with the state of their shoulder.

Mina tries not to sigh too audibly. "I really hope this works. I miss my best friend."

~

from: [email protected]

Subject: A message from the Chancellor

March 16th, 2051

Fellow Ravens,

I am deeply saddened to inform you about the loss of one of our faculty members, Dr. Tsunagu Hakamada of the Quirk Studies department.

Dr. Hakamada was an exceptional professor who took plenty of time to work closely with his students. Aside from the courses he taught, he was active in aiding students via the tutoring center in a number of subjects, and his passion for education took many of the students he mentored farther than they imagined. Dr. Hakamada also aided in the creation and perpetuation of the Consumer Apparel and Design course's semi-annual fashion show, as a mentor, sponsor, and friend.

Our thoughts rest with Dr. Hakamada's friends and family, those who cared for and loved him, and any Ravens touched by the loss of this bright mind.

Visitation for Dr. Hakamada will be held from 6:00-8:00 PM on Saturday, March 18th, at Respite Funeral Home, 48th Street. A memorial celebration will additionally take place at 5:30 PM Monday, March 19th, in front of the Kevin University Center.

The University of Ossenfelder Counseling Center is available to provide support to any students and other members of the campus community affected by the loss of Dr. Hakamada. The Dean of Students Office may also be a useful support resource for students and may be reached during office hours Monday through Friday.

If you are registered for any courses taught by Dr. Hakamada this semester or during the summer or fall sessions, your registration is still valid. Dr. Izuku Midoriya has graciously agreed to take over all of Dr. Hakamada's duties in the Quirk Studies department until further notice while a more permanent replacement is sought. If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out to your academic advisor or department head via the student portal.

Sincerely,

Shouto Todoroki

Chancellor, University of Ossenfelder

~

Up until this exact moment, Izuku had reasoned that this was doable.

Dr. Hakamada's classes had been canceled for a short time, both to give the students a chance to recover and to give Izuku the chance to take over without missing a beat. Not that missing a beat wasn't inevitable—he wasn't exactly the on-campus professor type. In fact, he's pretty sure he looks more like a TA than a professor even on the best of days, although the haggard look he's been sporting lately might add some age to his countenance. When the classes had started up again, he'd done his best, and he's pretty sure he's even doing a good job! It's not that he doesn't know the information, after all. In fact, he's quite sure he could overtake the rest of the department in knowledge, given the chance! He's just not the lecturing type. Especially not when “take over the summer classes” turns into “take over all classes while maintaining your previous workload”.

So he pressed onward, he let himself be persuaded to move into Dr. Hakamada's office after his family collected his personal effects, and he did his best to help his new batch of students adjust to the loss of their professor while not letting his online courses fall too far behind. He already hadn't been sleeping, so not much had changed.

And, in his few moments of spare time, he'd found some information pointing to a cause for  Dr. Hakamada's death. Perfectly legally, of course. For sure.

All he'll reveal is that a mysterious set of bite marks had been found on him when he'd arrived at the hospital, and that he hadn't survived too long after being admitted.

He can't say with any certainty that it was the Death Adder. For one thing, his bastard sire is typically pretty good about killing them completely. It could be a result of Hakamada's quirk, or else the Death Adder made some kind of mistake. In any case, having been the heir to a long line of designers, he fit the usual line of victims perfectly, so Izuku was content to mark it as a sign the Death Adder was hanging out for a while.

That alone was a comfort and a curse. He could handle that soon.

But this?

The papers on his new desk in his new office glare up at him. Most of what he'd received had been standard paperwork. Things to help facilitate him taking over the courses. This particular folder, however, had not been that.

[full name] is the first thing he registers on the page. The rest of it comes in waves as he reads. List of accommodations. Student will have an aide for note-taking and emotional support purposes. A section for a list of triggers, followed only by the words "see attached", implying the list is too long to fit on the eight lines afforded to it. History of being targeted by violent attacks. Traumatic memory loss. Catatonia.

The more he reads it, the worse he feels. And yet, he can't stop reading it.

He had convinced himself that [name]'s friends had been overblowing the whole thing. That, given a day or two, they would be back to their old, perfect selves, and things would be fine, they just wouldn't remember him. He can't imagine that they let them take this course knowingly. No, registration would have been over a month ago. [name] had registered for Dr. Hakamada's course, and now, here he was, taking it over. He hopes, sincerely hopes, that their friends read the email and saw he'd be taking over, that they pushed to get them reassigned to some other course section. Obviously, he can't do anything about this. How would that look? Sorry, Dean of Students, I'm rejecting this student from my course because they are simply not the right fit. No, it has nothing to do with the fact that they're physically disabled due to recovering from a stabbing and emotionally shattered for reasons unknown.

At the end of the page, more words flash up at him in bits and pieces.

Please contact student through aide, Ochako Uraraka, at (xxx) xxx-xxxx to set up meetings prior to summer semester.

God. How is he ever supposed to do this?

~

Izuku to [name] Protection Squad at 10:53 AM

Izuku: you were right.

Izuku was removed from group [name] Protection Squad.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @xxangelpridexx​ @lirinstaalem @izoodles​​ @denise-the-death-goddess @themerpenguin​ @sincerelybubbles​ @fudobaby​ @imabootywarrior​ @chickynn​ @fuc-kingmonkey​​ @the-secret-thief​​ @kc-korra​ @kiliakit​ @hay-leeeah​ @meowkid1000​ @mha-baku-todo-deku-kiri​ @jojo-buttercup​ @starfishlovingbnha​​ @wwwwyamd​ @omiwashere​ @emilytheeggy​ @subwayslander​ @thelittle-witch​ @sparkexplosive​ @shoutaaizawas​ @vanilladyfics​ @stargazerunlimited​ @luigisdivorcelawyer​ @chaoticevilbakugo​ @deeplightgarden @stxrrielle @idonthaveanameideayet @snowymaltese @bnha-babygirl @graywrites20

If your name is on the list but not underlined, I was unable to tag you! If your name is on the list and in bold, this is my second attempt to tag you. You will be removed from the taglist after a third attempt. Please ensure that your blog is set to appear in search results to be able to be tagged on the taglist! If you would like to be added or removed from the taglist, please fill out this form! No hard feelings if you want yourself removed for any reason! <3

NOTE: I was unable to locate/tag a few blogs this time around, so I have removed them from the list if they didn't appear to exist anymore on tumblr at all! If you expected to be on the taglist and have disappeared, please shoot me a message or fill out the form with your new url so I can continue tagging you!

#my fics #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #izuku midoriya reader insert #deku x reader #deku reader insert

[glitter-stained]

Writing tip #1

As a reader, one of my biggest pet peeves is seeing a character introduced as "clever", their intelligence treated as some sort of super power that helped them out of impossible situations off-screen or even worse, they solved basic elementary problems that I remember getting as homework in middle school and everybody is in awe of such a wondrous mind. As a reader, few things irk me more than that kind of characterization.

But as writer, I get it! I understand the appeal of writing smart character, they can be so cool and challenge our traditional perception of strength and pose interesting questions etc... and as I'm not that bright myself either, I end up with the sensation of struggling to write a character much smarter than myself.

But that's okay! Luckily for me, I study developmental and cognitive psychology, which gives me tools to help me write smart characters without having the same skillset, so I thought I would share!

#1: research cognitive psychology, because there is so much more to say than what I know and can fit in a tumblr post, so go look it up- I promise it's worth it.

#2: your IQ number is practically a myth. Unless it helps diagnose and measure a global intellectual deficiency, that number alone is generally worthless as it's nothing but the average between scores of wildly different abilities which belong to the traditional model of intelligence (around which there is no consensus today, so keep in mind that it's incomplete at best.) From that it follows that it's a terrible way to describe a character, as it doesn't refer to any specific skill -and while there is partial correlation between these scores, I can guarantee you nobody is exactly as good in calculus as they are in English as they are in geometry etc. Describe what the character is smart in, what "kind" or smart they are if you wish; the separation between book smart, street smart and people smart is a good start, but still not enough: there are many flavours of booksmart alone, nevermind the others. Again, look it up: an easy background to use is the Wikipedia page for "Theory of Multiple Intelligences". I promise it will help!

#3. Sometimes less is more. Your character doesn't have to be the best student in the country or win every prize. Did you know that Einstein was considered a bad student? Or that the incredible mathematician Euler got second place in the 1727 Paris Academy Science Competition? It's fine for your character to be second place, it's fine not to win every time, even in their own domain of expertise. If you tell me someone got the bronze medal at the Olympics, I'm still gonna assume them a better athlete than the vaste majority of people, and few would disagree with that idea; it's the same with intelligence. Your character should be allowed to fail, and simply to not always be the best -if not because it makes them more humane, because we love to project on smart characters, it strokes our ego. Think of all the stressed out straight A students on the verge of burn-out projecting on your characters: let them know it's okay! A- is still very good! You're doing great!

Anyway I'll probably make more posts about this because there's so much to say but it's probably too long already so I'll stop here. You know how it works, this is just my opinion, I'm not the authority on writing, but I thought it could be helpful so if it doesn't work for you, don't follow this advice! Let me know what you think, and please be kind

#writing advice #writing #academia #dark academia #intelligence #psychology #sherlock holmes #agatha christie #hercules poirot #miss marple #dr house #psychology in writing #cognitive psychology

[yellow-salamander]

something that absolutely gets me about alan becker’s animations is just how much personality each of the stick figures has. To list some examples:

-red is a little bit more reckless that most of his friends. like TSC, he tends to just dive head on into danger, and his method of solving problems is pretty much “beat it up.” He also loves animals, especially noticeable in his absolute epic pet pig. However, he is also quick to trust and generally thinks less before doing things than his friends, especially TSC. He’s also been possessed twice now. I think. Good for him, I suppose.

-TSC also dives right into dangerous situations, and would do absolutely ANYTHING for his friends. He’s a bit more OP than the rest of them, obviously, which you can see whenever they’re in a fight, especially when he fights red in the desert during AVM shorts season 3. He’s quick to forgive and understand, and can see the good and bad sides that make up a whole with little difficulty. However, like with purple in S3 and red a bit later, he can also hold some grudges when someone tries hurt his friends. He’s definitely closest to the leader of the group, simply because he’s got a bit more experience and fighting ability than the rest of them.

-purple, even before we got his really awesome backstory in ep.29, held a distinct need for power and influence that clearly came from a need to belong. He cares for all his friends, but doesn’t know how to balance that with the space left by his past experiences, leading him to abandon green and blue in the void and later join King Orange (do we call him Mango Tango on tumblr? I am pretty new to this side of the fandom and can’t quite figure that one out 😅).

-yellow is kind of the science lover friend. He’s inventive and resourceful, which we can see whenever he digs up some red stone machine or command block to solve a problem, like with the villagers in S3. He also seems to trust pretty easily (especially if they offer him some cool tech like king orange showing him the command block staff) and in ep 30, stands with blue staring rather distrustfully at the reformed MT until he’s offered the command stick. He is a pretty funny guy, if you ask me.

-green is probably the thinker of the group. He hesitates to jump into things, and tries to care for every member of the group, and understand each perspective. He waits for orange before jumping into purple’s parkour portal after fighting the witch, and chooses to go after purple INSTEAD of helping his friends despite yellow telling him not to. All of this after being abandoned by him multiple times and seeing exactly what he could be capable of. He looks for the best in people when he can and never wants to leave anyone behind, which makes for some fun character dynamics!

-blue is the most go-with-the-flow out of all of them. He clicks with all his friends, and has some cool adventures with each of them. He also gets attached to the piglins and bonds with THEM, though he does this while chasing his drug addiction, of all things. This poor stick figure is canonically a drug addict. Poor guy. He is a bit slower to forgive MT in the end, and unsure about purple for a while because of how he left blue and green in the void that one time, but normally likes to just do stuff and worry about things later, and just hang out with his friends. Even if he accidentally sends them on a wild goose chase for him and accidentally creates a chain reaction that nearly destroyed all of minecraft. Because he wanted some more nether wart.

And that’s just the basics. I could talk for hours about some of their relationships, namely red + TSC, blue + green, blue + yellow, and green + purple, but that’s a story for another time. TLDR: Alan Becker gave stick figures personality and I just can’t get over that.

#alan becker #red stick figure #tsc #animation vs minecraft #animation vs animator #tsc animation vs animator #orange stick figure #purple stick figure

[fizzyxcustard]

Wrong Place Wrong Time - Part 2 - Chapter 3

The masterlist to the first part can be found here

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: You find yourself in 1209AD after a science experiment has gone wrong, and you are now making a new life in a small village in France. However, Sir Raymond de Merville has his eye on you and will not take no for an answer. You both embark on a passionate love affair which leads to Raymond’s downfall.

With Raymond dead, you find your way back to 2017. Now heavily pregnant with Raymond’s child, things take a strange turn and you find out that Raymond’s promise to come back to you as crossed many centuries. 

Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017)

Pairings: Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual references, violence, bad language, sexual language. 

Comments/Notes: This fic is being re-uploaded. It was originally written on Tumblr for my old blog and then put on to AO3, so I’m now trying to put all outstanding fics from AO3 on to here. 

As always, if you like the story, please consider a reblog. My tag list is always open to people who wish to be added. Send me a message and let me know. :)

Just to note, this fic is quite an old one now and for anyone who new to my tag list and doesn't know what's going on, part 1 is linked above. Please read that first and just reading this on its own will not make sense.

England, 2017

That night and you slept soundly next to Raymond, never waking and the nightmares not visiting you. It was Raymond’s presence back in your life that forced all the bad things away, and brought back that light which had been missing the last five months you had been without him. 

The next morning and you woke to feel Raymond’s hand brushing down your cheek. He was looking down on you as you woke from your dream; in your dream and you were flying, watching a flock of birds drift through the air in silence beside you. You smiled at your husband and he leaned down, kissing you gently, whilst rubbing your stomach, needing contact with both you and his daughter. 

“They’ve been asking about her at the lab where I work,” you told Raymond. He shifted back, sitting up. His eyes narrowed at the very thought of anyone questioning you in such a manner. 

“What did they say?” he asked. 

You sat up from your lying position, propped up against your pillows, and brushed a hand through your hair. “They wanted to know how and when I got pregnant…and by who,” you replied. “I just told them I was already pregnant when I originally went to your time. But they seemed to know I was lying.” 

“What does this mean for her?” Raymond asked. “I will not have them touch her, or you.” 

Tears began to fall down your cheeks as you pondered such a question. “I…don’t know,” you told Raymond. “There were talks of taking her when she’s born to do tests because of the effects the machine had on my body and on her. I was pregnant when I came back through so they think the machine could have affected her as well as me. They’re bribing me with money to not speak a word but go in for testing. They’re offering me two million.” 

That fierce fire was burning in Raymond’s eyes. You had missed that fire within him so much. “Do not accept such a bribe. If they had their way then they would take her away from us.” 

“This was why I was thinking of adoption. I wanted to try and run away somewhere, have her, and put her up for adoption, so they can’t track us. But I can’t. I’m her mother and should fight for her every step. She belongs with us.” You could feel her moving inside you as if responding to your words, thanking you for your resolution to keep her. “But while we’re here they won’t stop hounding me. They threatened me that if I don’t keep up with the meetings then they’ll find me and make sure I do what they say.” 

Raymond shifted forwards towards you. “We’ll find a way back to where we belong. I’ll make sure you both get back.” 

As he said those words you kissed him and pressed your forehead to his; you knew what he meant by saying ‘both of you’. He was prepared to sacrifice himself again. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. This time I fight to honour you. We all go back together or not at all. I needyou, Raymond, so much more than you realise.” 

You could see tears swimming in his eyes as you told him you needed him. Those words were so poignant for him to be told. Just to be told that he was needed kept him alive, and kept him fighting. 

In bed that morning you both began planning your return to France in the year 1209AD, where you wished to live in peace and raise your baby daughter. 

“I have another meeting tomorrow morning regarding what happens when she’s born. They think that the changing of timelines may have affected the present and need to check our radiation levels,” you told Raymond. 

“I will be beside you,” he insisted. “If I have to force my way into that building, kill every person inside just to get you through and back to France, then I will do it.” 

***

You and Raymond walked hand in hand down the busy street towards the high rise building where you had worked for nearly three years as an assistant technician. Things went on inside that building of which you had been sworn to secrecy, including the very experiment which had sent you through time to France, 1209 AD. You knew that escaping the clutches of this company now that you were back in your present time and pregnant with a man’s child who had died in 1209, was going to be impossible. They wanted to experiment on you and the baby. Bribery may have been their way of sweetening you to comply, but you knew that the money would never get to you and you would become a lab rat for the rest of your life. The company were just waiting for your daughter to be born. 

Raymond fingered the kitchen knife in his pocket, prepared to take down whoever got in his path to see you and your baby safe in 1209. 

You had yet another meeting with senior bosses to talk about your pay out, which you ultimately knew you would never get. They would resort to kidnapping you if necessary to run their tests. 

You made your presence known in the reception area downstairs which was brightly lit and had a young, dark haired woman, with plenty of cleavage on show sitting behind the desk. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking you up and down, mentally judging you. You had always hated this woman; sometimes you would see her in the staff canteen upstairs and she would roll her eyes if you tried to be polite. 

Using his stealth, Raymond rushed behind the desk, grabbing the woman around the mouth, and dragged her into a small stockroom which was just behind the desk. The woman hadn’t seemed to have noticed the unauthorised entry of the mysterious man who had accompanied you. 

Raymond tied the woman up using her tights, gritting his teeth in anger as she tried to resist. You darted into the room to help Raymond, holding your hand to her mouth so he could finish the job and make sure she was restrained. 

Next step would be security, having to get through an airport style operation that you had been required to be subject to whenever you entered the building. Usually there were only ever two men at a time at the main checking room, one of them scanning bags and clothing and the other completing body searches. Sometimes there was an armed guard just behind the door, and today was lucky for you. As you made your way into the large room, using the stolen ID pass from the receptionist, where all the scanners and equipment were for detecting weapons or explosives, there was an armed guard sat down reading a magazine, not taking much notice to who was passing by. 

You walked in, faking a smile and nodding your head politely. Obviously you and Raymond had not, as of yet, been detected in the building. 

Raymond moved from behind you, punching the security officer square in the jaw and then nose, knocking him to the ground in a pool of blood from a broken nose. He pulled the gun from the guard’s utility belt and aimed it at the other two men who were standing by the scanning machines. 

You knew that there was a room just to the right of the main security hall and inside it held replacement equipment, and required a pass to get in and out. “Give me your passes!” you ordered, stepping up to the men and reaching out across the belt where the trays moved. “Give me your passes and get in that room.” Raymond kept the gun aimed at the two men, one being a young, fresh faced man, reminding you of Henri, and the other looked around Raymond’s age with shoulder length, shaggy hair. 

Once the two men had complied with your orders, you raced through the winding hallways with Raymond towards the CCTV room. Surely someone would have noticed you by now and raised the alarm. But luck seemed to be on your side so far. When inside the small room which was filled from floor to ceiling with screens, you found the guard asleep who should have been conducting his duties. The man, who was surely near pension age, was snoring away, a cup of cold coffee next to his arm on the desk. 

Raymond dragged him off the chair, watching as he opened his eyes, terrified and confused. You pulled a piece of cord out of your pocket and began tying the man’s hands behind his back whilst Raymond attempted to quieten his protests. 

By the time you had both made it down towards the main, central hub where the machine was held, all the people you had come into contact with had been restrained or locked into rooms of which they had no way out. Surely, however, there was back up and you would both be noticed, acquired and reprimanded. 

As you were about to let yourself and Raymond into the huge lab area, where a few people in white coats were dashing back and forth, you felt him tighten his grip in your hand. He looked at you, smiling weakly and placed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Whatever happens from here, know that I love both you and our daughter,” he said, choking back tears. 

You knew that he truly believed he would not go through with you. In his eyes was the sad truth that his duty was to protect you and your unborn daughter, and if it meant him sacrificing his life and onward years with you, then he would do it to keep you both safe. 

“I’m not going through without you,” you told him. “If it means I have to stay here because this all fails, or I die trying to get through, then so be it. I’m not being parted from you again.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @linasofia @knittastically @luna-xial @meganlpie @quiall321 @asgardianhobbit98 @eunoiaastralwings @msjava1972 @rachel1959 @guardianofrivendell @evenstaredits @catthefearless @lemond57 @missihart23 @mrsdurin @solairewisteria @aliasauthor @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @sazzlep @glassgulls @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse

#Raymond de Merville #Pilgrimage #Pilgrimage (2017) #Richard Armitage #Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader

[semperintrepida]

I’m behind on tumblr but if you’re still taking writing qs, 5&6 please. Also, 15 fascinates me because I have learned recently of myself that absolutely font matters when writing (work) stuff and i get distracted if it’s not “right”, so if you have thoughts on how font affects your (creative) writing process I’d be interested in hearing! Also, not on the list: do you outline with pen & paper or is it all on the computer?

My deepest apologies, I somehow missed this ask in my inbox and found it yesterday while doing that tarot ask meme.

5. What is an image/set of images that you're particularly proud of?

I've been thinking about my older work lately, so I'll highlight a deep cut that only my OG readers will remember: ALL of the formal Japanese garden imagery in Kunoichi. Yeah, I'm proud of that.

They kept walking, until the path rounded back toward the entrance gate, but Britt stopped Santana before she'd gotten too far ahead. "Over here," she said, and she led Santana to a small, unobtrusive path that headed deeper into the corner of the garden, easily missed if one didn't know to look for it. It led them through a grove of green foliage, the air cool with the promise of moisture, and as they walked further the promise was revealed: a small pond with an island, accessible by two narrow stone bridges. Sunlight filtered down through the pines that ringed the pond and cast the space with a milky glow the color of undyed silk. It wasn't quiet, not with the metropolis around them, but it was peaceful, and the light and the feeling of being surrounded by something sacred made it the kind of place where voices automatically lowered to whispers, where possibilities seemed endless. Santana stood like a stone statue, as still as the waters of the pond, taking it all in. She breathed softly and slowly. They stood there for a long time, saying nothing.

In the beginning of Kuno, Britt is a dead woman walking, surrounded by a sterile, hyper-urban world. But every garden in this story is very much alive, and a long-dormant seed, given the right care, can sprout and blossom again.

6. Idea that you always wanted to write but could never make work?

Hoo boy. Yeah, I've got an idea, one I've been kicking around for about a decade now, for an original science fiction book (novelette? novella? who knows?). The protagonist is a woman who's a drill sergeant in a military belonging to an empire involved in an endless war with another empire at a scale where after battles, entire planets are stripped for natural resources, mineral and organic. The protag's recruits are all clones of dead soldiers, who retain traces of their original personality but need to be taught fighting skills, and she forms a connection with one clone soldier, a headstrong woman who has an innate knack for the fighting arts.

The protag trains her clone squad, then sends them off to battle, where they all die and their organic matter is scraped off the barren rocks so it can be used to make more clone soldiers.

Protag is assigned a new squad of clones, same as the first. Forms a connection with the same clone soldier, who is not an exact copy of the previous, but clone personalities never are...

The clones go to battle and die. The cycle repeats, and each time, more of the protag's backstory is revealed, until we find out that the protagonist was once an admiral of the fleet, and the headstrong clone soldier was her wife who died in battle, after which the protag asked to be demoted to the drill sergeant for the clone squad where her (dead) wife's clone would be assigned. It's the only way for them to be together again.

I've never been able to write this thing due to other obsessions getting in the way (*cough*kyssandra*cough*) and the fact that I fucking hate worldbuilding, and unfortunately, expectations around hard science fiction demand worldbuilding to an absurd degree of accuracy. I'm sorry, I'm not going to learn astrophysics so I can write this story.

15. Does font matter to you when you're writing a draft?

Yes, but not in the usual way—at least, not using typical fonts like Times New Roman or Helvetica. I use the same font that I use when writing code: Droid Sans Mono Dotted for Powerline. I've been ruined for anything else.

Bonus Question: do you outline with pen & paper or is it all on the computer?

All on the computer. I used to do a thing where I'd keep track of scenes on bundles of index cards, but these days I find digital notes easier to deal with.

[fic writing questions meme]

#i'm glad you asked #confusedanon #sorry this took so long to answer! #tmi