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bemusedlybespectacled · 5 months

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Hi! I'm in law school rn and having a lot feelings and thoughts about it. Would ou share some thoughts and positivity? Am I in the right path? Cries and panics in finals are coming and I don't know if this is for me

IMO there are two potential reasons for these kinds of feelings:

You don't feel like this is the right path for you because you feel incapable/incompetent and lawyers are supposed to be Very Very Smart And Capable And Good At Shit All The Time.

You don't feel this is the right path for you because you just genuinely don't like law: you don't like compiling big piles of data into neat bins that match the elements of a particular statute or a specific holding or a coherent argument.

(The third potential reason is for later in your career, in which case it might be that you don't like certain elements of the practice of law: dealing with needy clients, meeting a billable hours requirement, working long hours, etc. In that case, you can always try changing the type of law you're doing - like, if you hate litigating in courtrooms, you might prefer going in-house, or becoming a law librarian, or being a clerk.)

If it's that you don't like law, you do not have to keep doing it. You are allowed to find something else that you like better. A couple of people in my law school class dropped out to be teachers; my clinic partner has a law degree and a PhD and has only ever taught as a professor; you do not have to throw good money after bad on a career that you don't like.

If it's that you feel incompetent and stupid and not like A Lawyer™ because lawyers are geniuses: first of all, I bet you are perfectly fine and can totally do this, because you got all the way here and that's pretty fucking hard already. But let's pretend that fear is actually true and you really are that bad (I doubt it): I promise you, I promise you that there are people practicing law right now who have no idea what the fuck they are doing. Not even in a cutesy "we all get imposter syndrome sometimes" way, I mean "holy fuck how are you still practicing" way.

The CPS attorney I worked across from in my old job did not know any of the rules of evidence, had no legal writing skills whatsoever, and couldn't handle making or defending objections to save her fucking life. She was the attorney for the entire fucking county.

I once got a response to a multi-page motion (like four pages of argument and another 25 or so of exhibits) that was two pages with enormous fucking margins and paragraph spacing, spelling errors, and no actual argument from a guy who had been practicing longer than I've been alive. I actually saved his reply (and the judgement with the footnote that says "as Attorney Bespectacled correctly notes in her brief") as a pick-me-up for when I'm feeling like a fucking idiot.

There are lawyers with a shitload of experience, who make millions of dollars taking on high profile cases, who fucking suck at it. Seriously, watch either of the Sandy Hook trials on the Law and Crime Youtube channel (or listen to any of the depositions that get covered on the Knowledge Fight podcast - they're all titled "Formulaic Objections") if you want to see just how bad a person has to be at being a lawyer in order to get sanctioned.

At one point when I was studying for the bar exam and panicking over it, my partner said, "Michael Cohen passed the bar exam, and I know you're smarter than him, so if he can pass it, so can you." I'm certain you're both smarter and a better person than, like, any of Trump's lawyers, or even a good chunk of my law school classmates (like the entirety of FedSoc cough cough).

But even if you're not, remember: there's only ever one CALI winner per class, so most people aren't going to ever get one. Most people who graduate law school and pass the bar and practice law are just incredibly fucking average. Like, that's just math. You're not a failure if you aren't the best, because most people aren't the best. You can still do very well in life as a lawyer even if you're just Some Person, because that's what most lawyers are.

(Also, sidenote: law school and actual law are very different environments. How you do in one has very little bearing on how you do in the other.)

tl;dr: You're going to be fine no matter what you end up deciding.

#eloonie #lawblr #real lawblr #law school #askbox #personal #bb is a lawyer

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neurodiversebones · 1 year

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I'm so attached to Cam it's unreal 🙈 I've been thinking of a couple of random headcanons for her that I may one day incorporate into a fic:

-Her parents wanted her to be proper and ladylike and enrolled her in piano lessons. She hated them, but she was very gifted at it, and to this day can sit in front of a piano and play a tune. She does this while out with the team and everyone is shocked.

-We all know she's very intelligent. I think it would be interesting if she was absolutely terrible at math. (Autistic imbalance of abilities.) When someone on the team asks her a "simple" math problem, she gets very flustered and defensive because she's embarrased.

If you have any of your own, I'd love to hear them! :3

CAM PIANO PLAYER I AM SOOO IN LOVE ??? i am so attracted to everyone who can play piano bc i play ten fucking instruments and yet i cannot play anything other than very simple chords on the piano LMAO

in extension to piano playing cam . she can read music very well but she just prefers to memorize it, and can do so very quickly. after practicing a piece a few times, she moves onto just doing it from muscle memory because it's easier to not have to focus on the page. autistic music girlies rise up !

BAD AT MATH CAM IS MY NEW FAV !!! she was really good at math as a kid until like partway through highschool when she just hit a wall and could not do it anymore and was so frustrated. it really impacted her self esteem because things like this had never been hard for her but it seemed impossible for some reason. she's still really insecure about it especially since she is by all accounts, a genius, and she works with other geniuses who are all so fast with math and numbers but she always trips over them and gets confused.

other random cam headcanons:

she cannot cook to save her life. cannot be bothered to learn because she is genuinely terrible at it and hates doing anything she's bad at. arastoo comes to her house and is like . why are your cupboards full of takeout menus and like ,,, four ingredients what the fuck 😭 she doesn't give a fuck though and is like . "why would i learn to cook when we live in dc i can literally get any food i want in under an hour" . he just stares at her like ,,, how are you ALIVE

she DOES own a pair of crocs but they are only house shoes and arastoo is sworn to secrecy that he will NEVER tell ANYONE. they are comfortable and she is pro shoes in the house but NEVER outside shoes so they're perfect. she literally hides them when people come over.

speaking of shoes/clothes. cam absolutely has a walk in closet it was a Need when she was finding a place

fashion is a special interest of hers 💪 she got teased a lot for it when she was younger and even as an adult because what do you MEAN you're smart AND interested in "girly" things that doesn't work !! people sometimes judge her based on her appearance sometimes but she loves proving them wrong

#my mom and i had a long discussion about the bones characters and their Croc Opinions the other day LMAO #cam headcanons #cam saroyan

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justsome-di · 1 year

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Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 9

Summary: Alex’s co-workers set him up on a date, and he is under the impression it’s the real deal. A real blind date–the first he’s had in over a decade. But Damián thinks he’s meeting a normal client. He thinks he’ll meet Alex for dinner, flirt a little, flatter him, and then pull him into a hotel room for a pre-paid hour of sex.

Turns out, they were set up for a cruel prank. Shaken, they piece it together over a bottle of wine in the hotel. After a little cry and reassurance that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants a little pay back.

Their revenge? Use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week fake dating scheme with a big finale at a Halloween party that all of Alex’s co-workers will attend. But, this is a romance novel, so you know the plan won’t go that smoothly.

You can also read this on AO3, or Patreon (patrons also get chapters a week early along with bonus content). If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, I do have a ko-fi! Or consider dropping me a message in my inbox!

The apartment was dim when Leo walked in. He flipped on the hallway light, instantly feeling better with the place a little brighter. The sun had begun setting earlier, and the dreadful melancholy that came with the darkness was settling in. It could be chased away by a well-lit apartment for the moment, but soon it would be impossible to escape the bone-deep fatigue and anxiety.

Damián was sprawled out on the rug, on his back, holding his phone above his face.

“What are you doing?” Leo asked.

“Watching you walk into the apartment.”

Their location sharing went two ways. The same way Leo panicked at the little dot when it wasn’t moving soon enough after an appointment, Damián watched Leo’s dot move across the city when it was dark out.

Damián motioned for him to sit down next to him. Leo did so because he almost always did what Damián asked of him. For so many years, he was a devoted little brother. Old habits were hard to shake.

“Where’ve you been?” Damián asked. It didn’t feel like an interrogation, but Damián had the clipped tone of a parent a little upset their child hadn’t called to say they would be late to dinner.

“There’s this girl on campus who’s flunking a class, and she can only be tutored in the evenings. Academic Resources told me I could get extra hours if I stay late with her.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I’m only doing it for the extra money. It’s kinda hard to get through to her. I was trying to get her to tell me what she didn’t understand about her midterm, and she just kept saying she didn’t know anything. And I was like, you have to tell me what you don’t get so I can go through the steps. And she still didn’t tell me anything.”

Damián laid his phone down. He still had the haunted, tired look on his face that he had had for the past two days.

“Some people aren’t that great at math. They’re not all little geniuses like you.”

Damián reached up and laid his hand on Leo’s cheek. His fingers were cold. They felt invasive. Before Leo could pull away, Damián slapped his cheek. It wasn’t hard. It would be called a “love tap” later. Leo hated how much Damián reminded him of their mother.

They had both grown up getting little swats. Even Damián, who was such a momma’s boy and always hugging and cuddling their mother, would get his bottom and back smacked when he was particularly ornery. He would whine, but their mother always told him they came from a place to love.

Leo remembered getting swatted a little too hard for it to be called a “swat.” The way that his father’s wide, heavy hand came down on his bottom made his flesh sting for minutes after a spanking. Again and again, his father would hit him with one hand while the other held him firm on his knee.

Damián’s swats were more dignified and less rough and almost even joking sometimes. Damián was always too old to get spanked. His mother would knock the back of her hand against his back more like it was a reflex than an actual hit. On some occasions, it would come across his butt, and he would whine and complain that she was embarrassing him.

Embarrassing. Not hurting.

Leo was always a little jealous that their father never seemed to discipline Damián the same way. Leo had wanted to see Damián, at 14, sprawled across their father’s lap.

But, it was always Damián who immediately went to comfort Leo when his bottom stung and sobs wracked his tiny body. And Leo couldn’t be angry at him when he was wiping Leo’s chubby cheeks with his own sleeves.

“Be nice to this girl,” Damián scolded.

“I am.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

Damián began sitting up. He winced when he lifted his shoulders off the floor. Leo got to his feet and bent over to offer Damián his hands to help him up. Leo didn’t know why he was laying on the floor with a rug burn across his back anyway.

How he got the rug burn, Damián never said. But Leo had walked in on him in the bathroom and saw the angry patch of raw skin. He was fine, Damián insisted. He was just being dumb. Really, he was fine, and Leo wouldn’t want the details about his occupational hazards.

“Do you want to order food?” Leo asked.

Damián was already dressed for the night. He wore an old SUNY sweatshirt that was frayed at the cuffs and neckline. The white letters across the chest—EMPIRE STATE—had cracked and some of it had crumbled off in many dryers over the years. It was the oldest piece of clothing Damián owned. Considering he rotated through wardrobes so often, it was impressive that he kept a ten-year-old sweatshirt.

He wore it with sweatpants tucked into wool socks. It was an ensemble Leo was sure he would have looked silly in if he tried to wear it. But on Damián, it looked intentionally frumpy. His thin frame pulled it off. It worked for him. Very Rachel Green.

“What were you thinking about getting?” Damián asked.

“Chinese.”

Damián made a big show of sighing and throwing his head back. He hummed obnoxiously, loudly. Leo pressed his lips together to stop himself from giggling like he did when he was a child and Damián made faces at him.

“Yeah, I’ll get some with you,” he finally said and moved towards the kitchenette to rifle through old menus stashed between cookbooks that had hardly been opened. “What are you tutoring this girl in?”

“Calc. She’s a comp sci major. Apparently, a bunch of them struggle through their first calc class every year.”

“Maybe they should get a better calc professor.”

“Dr. Felner is fine. He’s great at what he does. It’s not his fault a bunch of wannabe Elon Musks can’t handle calc I.”

“Be nice.”

“People only get into computer science because they know there’s money in it. Then they freak out when they realize it’s hard.”

“It’s not your job to judge them.” Damián stared at the seven-year-old menu, either half-ignoring Leo or focusing way too much on the unchanged items. “Do you think this girl is in it only for the money?”

Leo leaned against the counter. “I don’t know.”

He didn’t know. Eve didn’t give off the entitled air that other students did. A lot of guys sat down across from Leo with their blond hair slicked up. They tried charming him with their blue eyes and perfect teeth and Nike pullovers, tried getting him to essentially do their homework for them. But Leo was immune. He didn’t care. He was 21 and jaded. He wasn’t going to do some rich white kid’s homework.

Eve seemed almost desperate to understand her own mistakes. She wasn’t anything like the brats he usually tutored. And considering she had to get special accommodations because she worked during office hours, Leo could safely assume she wasn’t swimming in mommy and daddy’s money.

If she was in computer science only for the money, then Leo supposed it would be different. She would be coveting stability. Not greed. Damián, annoyingly, had a point. But Leo didn’t want him to know he was agreeing.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Leo said.

“There you go,” Damián said. He pushed the menu to Leo. “Tell me what you want. I’ll order.”

“I can pay. It was my idea.”

“No.”

“Damián—“

“I’m getting an extra client this month. Let me treat you.”

Damián always “treated” Leo. When he was 18, he appreciated it. But now that he was older, desperate for a little recognition as an adult, he wanted to pay for at least his share of dinner.

But also.

“What client?” Leo asked.

“I’m doing a whole thing,” Damián said. “I have a guy booked through the whole month. He’s paying after Halloween.”

“You’re only asking for the payment at the end of a month-long gig?”

“Yeah.”

“When you usually ask for payment upfront?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“No. No. No. This guy is fine. I trust him.”

“Why?”

Damián tapped the menu. “Pick something. I’m hungry.”

“Lo mein. Tell me about this guy.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so, and I’m older.”

Damián rarely played the older card. Sometimes, it worked. Lately, Leo didn’t fall for it. What did it matter that Damián was older? Leo was an adult. He should have been allowed to do what he wanted and push for whatever conversation he wanted to have.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “It doesn’t matter how old you are.”

“It does.”

Leo scoffed. He wasn’t sure if he was upset about Damián’s bad business decision or him brushing off the conversation. “What if he never pays?”

Damián dialed the number to the restaurant and turned away from Leo to hold his cell phone to his ear. He ordered quickly, thanked the person on the other end of the line, and hung up. He did it all so smoothly, declaring an end to his and Leo’s argument when he didn’t say anything more.

“What if he never pays?” Leo repeated when Damián put down the phone.

“He’ll pay.”

“How do you know?”

“Leo.” Damián had never used such a stern tone with him. Leo froze. That reminded him of their father. “Drop it, okay? I’m not in the mood to talk about this. And it doesn’t even concern you.”

Fine. Leo wouldn’t press further.

Leo retreated to the couch with his schoolbag, his face burning. Damián stayed in the kitchen, tidying up little things that didn’t really need tidying. At least, he did it quietly. He didn’t set mugs in the cabinet with too much force or slam the doors. He didn’t throw the dishwasher open or yank the racks out. He did everything with a calm hand. Leo didn’t have to hold his breath and wait for the next loud jolt of noise.

Leo opened his laptop and pulled up his school email. At the very top of his inbox, he had pinned an email from his adviser. It contained a list of grad schools she thought Leo should apply to. Of course, at the top, was SUNY. She said there were benefits to staying at one school. He believed her.

He looked at the list. He had applied to the first three schools, all in New York. But further down the list, his adviser had listed out-of-state schools. He had ignored them at first, but as more time passed, he found fewer reasons to not apply.

The only thing that was holding him back was that he didn’t want to be so far away from Damián. And he still didn’t want to be far away, but he was losing confidence in himself to get into any of his top choices. Or get in and get offered an assistantship that would pay for his tuition.

He just didn’t know how to break the news to Damián. But maybe after the argument, Damián wouldn’t mind having his space back to himself. They had never really argued before, and Leo could feel that the air was getting tense with both of them cooped up together. Neither of them went out much anymore. Damián had moaned that his friends had taken his ex-boyfriend’s side in the breakup. Leo had never really had anyone since starting college.

Leo looked to Damián. He was tucking the menu back between the cookbooks and when he turned back around, he held Leo’s gaze. Neither of them said anything. They just frowned at each other.

The takeout arrived, and Damián disappeared down the hallway. Leo closed his laptop before he came back just in case he saw the website page for a school in Michigan.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” Damián said when he was handing Leo his little takeout container.

The white box was loaded down. The thin metal handle was barely holding on. The corners had oil splotches soaked into them. Leo was careful when he took it, using both hands and setting it gently on the coffee table.

“It’s okay,” Leo said.

He figured he should have apologized, too, but he couldn’t get the words out. Damián tapped his fist against the top of Leo’s head and said he was going to his room for “shame eating.”

Leo never knew what “shame eating” meant, but he figured it was something like a binge after Damián went on a short, intense diet. Damián wasn’t as subtle as he thought. It was like how often he bleached his teeth. He was willing to strip all of the enamel off if it meant his teeth looked good to himself. He was willing to adopt a cycle of unhealthy eating patterns if he thought it kept him thin.

Or in control of something. Leo had shallow knowledge of eating disorders from middle school health where a textbook from the 1990s told him that eating disorders were about control rather than looking thin.

But Leo wasn’t sure about that. If that were always the case, then why was it such a big deal that models were photoshopped? And he had caught Damián looking at himself a few times in the mirror. He cared about how he looked.

Especially for all of the extra appointments he was booking. There had hardly been a break in his appointments, and Leo knew it was all for him. For his application fees, for the fees to get his transcript delivered, and for the future fees to sign up for classes. And the cost of a new laptop as his current one was dying on him. And textbooks.

Damián wouldn’t stop helping him no matter how much Leo insisted he wanted to take care of himself (even if Leo had no idea how he would pay for it all on his own). Damián would probably be a lot better if Leo weren’t around.

It’d be okay if Leo left. He’d just be terribly alone. He wouldn’t have a place to crash or someone to buy him dinners. But it wasn’t as though he wasn’t lonely all the time anyway. At least Damián wouldn’t have to worry so much over him, and that was worth it.

#nobody ends up dead #writeblr #writblr #queer fiction

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chinesegal · 1 year

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Hello, I would like to preface by saying I'm not Asian (I'm black), but I have a question about Asian female characters: So the obedient Asian and Dragon Lady are both controversial, but two things I wanted to know: Firstly, in anime and manga you can find plenty of femme fatales who are in fact Asian, and in historical anime, you find traditional women, yet there's never criticism when they do it. I know when westerners use those ideas it's automatically assumed to be used for hateful reasons because of history, but what makes Japan (or any other Asian media that might have characters like that) critic-proof?

Secondly, I have a few stories I'm thinking of writing. One of them features a Korean woman. The thing is that she's a rival to the Finnish main character, and is a femme fatale, who sometimes wears more revealing clothing. However, she's not the only one like that or even the only Asian (The main character has an Asian friend portrayed as a normal woman).

The second is a story set in ancient Japan, when samurai were around. The thing, again, is that the main female character is traditionally feminine and dainty, and often gets in danger. Would either of these characters be considered offensive or am I okay? If not, what would I need to change (or add)?

PS: Considering the online cancellation of everything, and how a lot of people are touchy and get mad when you disagree or question race related things, I feel like I have to ask people to be nice when responding, so sorry about this extra thing, I'm just nervous that I'll insult you.

Hi, I can't speak for all asians, but I feel like you're OK. The important thing in my opinion is to treat every character as a person first; they have dreams, doubts, flaws and positive qualities. A character with one or a few stereotypical traits aren't necessarily a caricature, because for one thing people in real life can have these traits. There are asian math geniuses, suave, passionate latinos and black people good at sports. But as long as they have other things going on then I think you are safe.

#asks #thedisneytardblr

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cthulhubert · 2 years

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Finally finished Perhaps the Stars, and thus, Terra Ignota.

My favorite book of the series, and a good close on the tale. The final message, the choice of paths to resolve the war, it’s the sort of thing that makes me appreciate otherwise alien-to-me theology.

It’s been a very... enriching experience. The writing itself is excellent, and the series is packed with novel ideas. But it also had major elements (those revealed at the end of book 1) that....

So I’ve read plenty of books with unpleasant subject matter, right? Abuse, torture; the vile rewarded and people who sacrificed for the sake of others given only unending misery and dissatisfaction. It can be difficult, but sometimes the world is bad and stories should include bad things to reflect that reality. But Terra Ignota’s treatment of these things wasn’t just unpleasant, it was impossible to ignore, and prevented that sort of immersion that I think is the goal of any fiction. I had to read it with mental tongs, if that makes sense. Which is not something I’ve had to do with an otherwise good book before, which is what I mean when I say it was enriching.

Spoilers:

Perhaps the Stars did finally address one of those wallbanger moments, where at the culmination they talk about using their magical super math for things other than killing.

But that’s still my central point of rejection of the story: if you discover magical Hari Seldon style math, and your immediate and only plan is to use it to find people to murder in order to “help society”, you don’t really want to help society, you want to kill people. (NB: I do wonder if the Foundation Series parallels were intentional.)

If some people use the magic math to predict there’s going to be a war in the future and they can make it less bad by making there be a war sooner, they’re maybe less clear-eyed sages making a hard choice than they are people obsessed with war, who see it as some kind of... essential, platonic concept rather than an emergent property of conflicting needs of individual humans. (NB: I know this isn’t a book about real futurology or socio-cultural design, but it’s still a serious lacuna that not once did any of these super geniuses consider “a different approach to property rights” as a solution to the issues, except, in a very particular fashion, at the very end of the last book.)

If you find out about these people planning to make war happen, and decide you should torture, rape, and cannibalize them and this will somehow avert the war, averting war sounds mostly like a flimsy excuse for the torture and cannibalism!

You know, I could almost kind of understand people failing to treat Canner with the disdain that seems meet if only his crimes had at least, even a little bit, worked. The fact that even still the only one that seems to actually hate him is Caesar (who is also implied to do so not because of the torture murders, but because one of the specific victims was his lover!!!) feels like it should be a point about how the worst, most vile people do a great job of cultivating good opinions and relationships for purely practical reasons, and have no qualms against manipulation; though I didn’t spot any real textual support for that.

Like there’s a certain point past which, “A person’s present behavior is more important than their past actions for deciding how you treat them,” doesn’t hold much water! (Not on the scale of a human life span, anyways.)

At least it does make it explicit that Canner has been completely magically replaced with a different person with some shared memories (more completely and explicitly magically than JEDD Mason’s “I thought I’d finally found a free human” transformation). A small relief.

#terra ignota

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hopeymchope · 3 years

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Godzilla Singular Point

I came into Singular Point with some trepidation because Godzilla’s history in anime is both very recent and extremely bad. The three anime movies released between 2017 and 2019 are easily the worst work of famed writer Gen Urobuchi and honestly contain more bullshit than I can even get into here. Those movies and this series were both Godzilla anime properties commissioned by Netflix, which didn’t get my hopes up very much. Thankfully, Singular Point is a very different beast from the anime trilogy. One could argue it’s very different from most Godzilla media, actually — at least from my perspective. And I’m still a pretty entry-level fan of Toho’s Big G, all things considered.

Let me just warn you right up front: This smartphone-based virtual assistant is basically the breakout star of the series.

When you think “Godzilla,” you probably don’t think “incredibly dense sci-fi concepts,” but with the big G’s first-ever anime series, the writers clearly set out to change that perception. Before the first kaiju even appears, the lead characters are plucked from obscurity and dropped into a mystery that involves fourth-dimensional time travel, physical objects that look different from all sides, theoretical math concepts, self-propagating A.I., and a whole lot more. And it’s NEVER made clear how all of it connects to the rampaging kaiju! Although we spend a lot of time investigating a red dust or sand that is very obviously tied to the monsters in SOME way, no one ever makes a connection that explains the relationship. Maybe we’re supposed to wait for a later season to connect the threads... but let’s get into the idea of “another season” later.

I like to think of myself as someone who typically enjoys hard sci-fi, but even with the characters spending loads of time trying to explain the high concepts driving the story, I was never able to fully wrap my head around what was going on in the mystery at the center of GSP. I rewound and rewatched a few explanations, but I still walked away feeling lost. I eventually settled on some vague, loose understandings of most of the ideas mentioned, but those understandings were subject to being ripped apart in subsequent scenes when I was shown or told something completely at odds with what I thought I knew. I can’t say I was ever bored with the thick, dense scientific concepts on offer — trying to find purchase with these far-out ideas kept me glued to the screen — but damn, I sure wish I was able to comprehend them.

What do we want?! DENSE SCIENTIFIC DISCUSSION AND DEBATE! When do we want it?! AFTER THOROUGH RESEARCH, TESTING, AND PEER REVIEW!

Another weird thing about this show is that the lead characters remain in separate locations and on separate tracks for the entire duration. We have Yun — a mechanical engineer and programmer who has an amazing grasp on physics and human behavior. And we have Mei — a grad student who is deeply invested in theoretical science, UMAs, cryptids and other far-flung concepts. Both of them are basically geniuses in their fields, and even though they take opposing views of just how flexible reality is, their shared ability to think “outside the box” becomes the crucial component in solving the mystery at the core of the series. Because they don’t even know one another (despite being separated by like, ONE degree), they only ever interact via text messages and behind screen names, which feels pretty damn weird. At least I immediately liked both of them, with Yun being the standout to me because of how his lowkey reactions to crazy shit generates a lot of humor.

This soundtrack cover LIES; you will never see these characters in a room together like this.

Alas, we don’t get to know the characters a whole lot beyond what we learned of them in the first two episodes. It’s not long before they’re trapped in a series of complicated exposition dumps, endlessly attempting to explain the high concepts of the show to other characters as well as my dumb ass in the audience. The fact that I liked them in the first couple of episodes carried me through more than half of the show, but I was always hoping to see them share more of themselves or just display more emotion. Anime as a medium excels at emotional storytelling. But despite the major, world-altering events the characters are constantly warning us about, none of them seem to have many emotions about said events.

Further complicating matters is how, when major events finally occur in this show, they are often kept off-screen. One character shockingly dies, but the portrayal of that death is so piss-poor that I didn’t even realize it’d happened until someone mentioned their death in the next episode. After that vague death, I was particularly sensitive to anything that looked like it might possibly be lethal. Yet a later event that is played up as a tragic, fatal occurrence ends up... fine, somehow? It’s not clear how the character survives, because — even after one of our heroes is left screaming their name in despair as they seemingly die — nobody ever talks about or explains how he’s just fine a couple of scenes later. And near the end of the series, there’s a major transformation that occurs for one of the characters, and we never see it happen nor do we understand HOW it happened. It’s just that suddenly, this character is extremely different due to off-screen reasons that are only vaguely verbalized.

I guess these two really bonded at some point for some reason? And what you are seeing here is literally the height of emotion shown in the entire show.

Even though the overarching story of the series so far pretty clearly wraps up in episode 13, we then get a post-credits tease for a potential second season. So the question becomes: Would I watch that?

Well... Godzilla Singular Point is a series with a lot of issues that kept me at arms’ length from it — tons of extremely confusing dialogue, highly frustrating choices in direction that lead to baffling storytelling, characters who are mostly exposition-dumping — and yet there’s still some foundational work here that I appreciated a lot. When the action occurs, it’s pretty cool/fun. And when urban destruction occurs, it can be awe-inspiring. The human characters, though little-explored, have likable and interesting foundations to them that could be expanded upon. And I didn’t even mention the soundtrack, which features a variety of musical styles combined with the classic Ifukube theme music and an OP that is an absolute banger. (I have a weakness when it comes to music; a good soundtrack can carry me through even the blandest series sometimes.) Even the core idea of centering a Godzilla series around hard science and mathematical concepts is a compelling one, I think! I just hated the execution of it; they went waaaaay too far on poorly explaining incredibly complex, mind-bending concepts for my pea brain to handle it. They spend so much time trying to explain things, yet somehow they never succeeded for me.

Ultimately, I’d probably give the show another chance. But if I do give another season a chance, it’ll be on probation. I wouldn’t watch the entire season unless I could see within four episodes that they’d definitely improved things.

Would I recommend that anyone watch the series as it currently stands? I mean... not really? I guess if you really dig complex math, hard theoretical science, and/or Toho’s stable of monsters, then maaaaaaaaaaybe give it a shot. But otherwise? Naaaahh. It’s not good enough at anything to make it stand out from the anime crowd. I didn’t hate it like I hated the Godzilla anime films, but Singular Point is still something that both casual viewers and most fans can comfortably ignore for the time being. It’s not a complete disaster, and it’s not without its highlights... but it’s definitely disappointing in my opinion.

OKAYOKAYOKAY, so let’s talk about the kaiju for a bit!

Below will be SPOILERS revealing all of the kaiju that appear in Godzilla Singular Point and giving my feelings on them.

Godzilla — It’s interesting to see a version of Godzilla that borrows some ideas from Shin Godzilla. Shin G has been incredibly unique until now, but this Godzilla manages to fold some of Shin’s distinctive aspects in with the more classic/typical versions to build a fun new depiction. Be forewarned that Godzilla doesn’t show up until the series is halfway over, and he doesn’t get a ton of screen time, either. He’s used quite sparingly and kept in hazy settings, often framed from the neck-up when they show him. It’s a little frustrating that they felt the need to shroud him so much, but I respect the fact that whenever Godzilla is shown, the destruction he causes is on a scale far beyond anything that the rest of the kaiju ever do. He is pure devastation.

Rodan — He’s easily the biological kaiju with the most screen time in Singular Point. Rodan is first introduced as one gigantic pterosaur, but if you’ve seen ANY trailers for this show then you already know that his depiction transitions into an asston of smaller pterosaurs, all of whom are also called “Rodan.” (Apparently the word Rodan is both singular and plural, like the word “buffalo.”) Although he looks kind of cool at first, pretty soon Rodan showing up isn’t special or threatening anymore. Rodan appearances go from “a big goddamn deal” to “some bland background noise” before the series is even 1/3 finished. The design might be a little too far removed from the original for my own taste, but even if I didn’t think that, I wouldn’t be able to care for this Rodan simply because he’s rendered so unimportant and unimpressive.

If you go out in the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise...

Anguirus — Now check this guy out! Anguirus gets one of the coolest fights in the show and also demonstrates some powers that are well beyond anything we’ve seen him do before. Because he sticks to unpopulated areas, we never see him do much damage to Japan, but he is definitely holding all the attention when he’s on-screen. He’s a highlight for me — a total badass who is very unique in his abilities. And the stated origin for his name is goddamn adorable.

Manda — Yup, Manda is in this series... but I don’t have much to say for him. It seems like the creators of the anime didn’t have much to say about him either. His role amounts to little more than a repeated cameo, and in most of those cameos you only ever see his tail. When we finally see his full body, it’s done so briefly and kept at a distance, leaving me with no real impression. I had to look up his design online and... yup, that sure looks like Manda. Final score: MEEEEHH.

Kumonga — I definitely did not see this appearance coming! Kumonga is much smaller here than you may be used to, but she gets to star in the most suspenseful sequence in the series and easily earns the most exciting cliffhanger moment at the end of an episode. I was utterly glued to the show during her screen time, which comes with a lot of icky twists. Good ones! I honestly like Kumonga here more than I ever have previously.

NEW PHONE WHO DIS

Salunga — Uh, who? This is the one monster that isn’t based on a classic Toho kaiju but instead is a brand-new creation. I suppose that everybody who touches the Toho Kaiju franchise wants to make their own mark on it in some regard. But a big part of the fun of this series for me personally was the anticipation of seeing new interpretations and designs of classic Toho monsters. And so, given that he kind of resembles both Baragon and Gabara, I never stopped wishing they’d just used one of those guys as the basis and namesake. Taken on his own, however? He’s... pretty neat. Not unique or exciting, but solidly above par. He resembles a cross between a lizard/dinosaur and an ape, plus his head has some nifty coloration.

Our Jaguar!

Jet Jaguar — I guess Jet Jaguar isn’t exactly a kaiju in the traditional sense because he’s a Giant Robot. However, if you want to consider him one, then I wager he probably gets even more screen time than Rodan! We meet him almost immediately when the series begins. Initially an odd pilot-driven robot that was constructed at the whim of a quirky old factory-owner with too much disposable income, Jet Jaguar grows and changes over the course of the show, ultimately undergoing a transition in episode 7 that makes him pretty damn impossible to dislike. In fact, I utterly adored him by then. This is definitely the best Jet Jaguar I’ve ever seen. His design is recognizably similar to the original yet utterly distinct, too. Like many of the other kaiju here, he’s not nearly as big as he was when he was first introduced to the movies, but his size is ideal for battling the smaller-scale monsters that we spend most of the series on.

#godzilla #godzilla singular point #anime #anime reviews #kaiju

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ad1thi · 4 years

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@starklysteve me?? spamming you w recs because i love talking about my ships?? more likely than you think :)) (here’s some rhodeytony to get you started on what is objectively the best tony ship)

i place your hands around my neck: @fanfictiongreenirises

"Rhodey could practically feel his lungs getting heavier again, weighed down by roots of plants that he’d thought would never take hold in him again."

Or: the one where Rhodey's been pining over Tony for much longer than either of them realised and develops the Hanahaki disease

Pretend We’re In Love (The Heartache Still Hurts): @marvelingjules

Rhodey's dad is dying, and what he's always wanted is for Rhodey to be happily married. Tony and Rhodey were best friends, and haven't spoken in years. But after a chance meeting at the airport, and a desperate, insane idea on Rhodey's part, they end up pretending to be engaged.

But how much of it is really pretend?

i can’t seem to get a grip, no matter how i live with it: @psikeval

Tony knows he's got no business being a father.

A Million Shades of Blue: @notfknapplicable

“I just know that if I could get to wherever he is, I could find him. Dead or alive, I'd bring him back to us.”

James Rhodes will never stop searching for Tony Stark.

Twenty Five Years: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

Nobody knows how long this has actually been going on. (Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)

Leave The Light On: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

He was never doing this for fun. He'd just wanted to stay awake. And whatever you do, please don't tell that guy he's been fucking. He kinda likes him.

coloured in sun: @heleus

The one in which Anthony Edward Stark, having just reached the warm age of seventeen, realizes that he's in love with his best friend.

(The idea is terrifying.)

the planets that bend us: @deathsweetqueen

When Antonia Margaret Stark wakes up on her sixth birthday, it’s to the words: I didn’t get any sleep last night after that fucking lawn mower decided that 7 in the morning would be a perfect time for him to start his day, right outside my room.

She runs a thumb over the long string of words, wrapping around her wrist like a thick leather band.

She smiles.

She’s fourteen when she meets James Rupert Rhodes for the first time.

Written for the "more than a partner" square (S3) for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019 and the "soulmate" square for the Iron Husbands Bingo 2019

we rattle together in a bed of honey: @deathsweetqueen

Toni first met James Rhodes in Cellular Neurophysiology and Computing, when she was fourteen and trying very hard to stay in the shadows. She stumbles into the classroom, clutching her books and binders and pencil case close to her chest, as she stares at everything, wide-eyed and hungry and terrified. She seizes on the contempt, the confusion, the incredulity of the other freshman who look at her like she’s an incongruity – she’s used to that look, all that hate and derision.

She eats it up like chocolate cake.

Much to her luck, all the seats are filled, all except for one towards the middle of the row, a table shared only by a tall, handsome black boy, sleeping on top of the counter.

a winding road that stretches to the truth: @/coulddaughter (this author ostensibly has a tumblr but im unable to locate it -- so if anyone knows what their tumblr is please let me know so i can tag them!)

“Why do you need a date? Also, no offence, but why did you come to me? I stole, like, four of your girlfriends and at least two boyfriends, remember.”

“I do remember that, Tony,” said Jim, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I need you to come on a date with me.”

Love in the Eyes: @child-of-sunshine

The moment each of the Avengers realized Tony and Rhodey were in love.

The Curious Case Of The Discarded Condom: @/AssvengersArsemble

Natasha, Clint and Steve get just a little nosy about Tony's love life. Tony finds it extremely amusing they can't see what's right under their noses.

takes a lot of love and compliance: @gyzym

She's born breech, feet kicking out before the rest of her screams free; she's born breech, and never stops running. (Rule 63!Tony)

Targeted Persuasion: @galwednesday

Jim opened Tony's most formal closet and started pulling out tuxedos. "Put one of these on.”

"Why?"

"We're getting married."

Tony froze. "No, we're not."

"Oh yes we are." Jim tossed three tuxedos onto the bed. Three was a good number of options, enough for Tony to make a choice, but not so many that he'd get lost analyzing the ramifications of navy pinstripes vs. charcoal paisley. Tony did best with clear, specific expectations rather than an unlimited universe of possibilities that he would inevitably filter through his neuroses and obsess over, and Jim was really kicking himself for not considering that, oh, ten years ago when they’d first started this, but there was no point in beating himself up about it now when he could put that energy towards solving the problem instead. "You brought this on yourself, Tones. Pick a damn tux."

Five thousand roses: @/forestgreen

She is broken and all the more dangerous for it. The world should tread carefully around the shards of her former self lest they cut themselves on Antonia Stark's sharp edges.

A Guide to Handling the Unhandleable Tony Stark: @/nightrider101 (this is ab a/b/o verse)

Written for the following prompt on the Avengers Kink meme: The rest of the Avengers assume Tony is an unbound Omega by the way he acts. He's reckless and carefree and does what he wants. Imagine their surprise when they find out that Rhodey is Tony's Alpha. They're all confused at the way Rhodey lets Tony act and how they can be away from each other for long periods of time and Rhodey's just like 'He didn't want to give up his career and I didn't want to give up mine. And I gave up trying to tell Tony what to do years ago.'

It’s Not Bacon Until It Ceases To Be Bacon: @sobebold

Tony has lived with his best friend Rhodey for fifteen years, and everything is perfect.

Until Rhodey finally gets a boyfriend, and Tony's world gets turned upside down.

by any name: @machi-kun

Tony calls him ‘mine’, sometimes.

And he also calls him platypus, honeybear, sugarplum, all those stupid nicknames; but James’ favorite will always be ‘mine’.

Tutor Me: @wisiaden

Tony really wants James Rhodes to be his math tutor. The guy was hot, and if he had to play dumb, well, he can say he hates math.

run and hide: @/starksrhodey

Tony may or may not have a crush on football captain James Rhodes.

Or, Tony is extremely insecure, Pepper knows best, Steve likes to bake, Bucky loves red heads, and Rhodey keeps trying to talk to Tony.

This Is The Real Life: @blancheludis

It takes doing the laundry for Tony to realize he is completely, irrevocably in love with Rhodey. Who knew that the way to Tony Stark's heart is to teach him how to wash his clothes.

Anything For You Darling: @areiton

Tony is sitting on the balcony of his palace in Malibu, and Rhodey hates it, more than he's ever hated anything, watching his best friend stare at the water, limmed by the sun and utterly alone.

"She's dead," Tony says, before Rhodey can ask and he feels his breath catch, his heart stumble.

There's--

Grief. For pretty, troubled Maya with her big eyes.

Heartbreak. For a sweet infant who will never know the mother who gave him up, whose life will never be exposed, now.

Relief. Because Harley is safe. Safe. Gods, he's safe.

Rhodey helps Tony raise his son.

it goes like this (just like heroin): @quandongcrumble

He’s twenty-six and you’re twenty-eight and you get a midnight phone call from Obadiah and between the two of you, you manage to beg and bully until you can fly back to the States and sit beside the white hospital bed while they say words like heroin and accidental overdose and that Tony should pull through but Tiberius might not wake up.

It goes like this—for almost sixteen years Tony’s addiction problems are a blight on Rhodey’s relationship with him. Friendships crack and trust is shattered, over and over again.

motor oil and coconut oil: @/halfasgoodasanything

James loves his best friend. He's entirely supportive of his friendship and his almost relationship with Steve Rogers. He is! He is. Carol and Pepper seem to think otherwise, but he's cool. Loving Tony doesn't mean no one else can. Even if he wanted to.

lost and found: @starkslovemail

“Are you lost?”

Tony jumped at the voice cutting into his thoughts. Turning around, he saw another teen, maybe a year or two older than him, decked out in Team USA gear. He shook his head, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Nope.”

“Are you sure about that?” The athlete raised a disbelieving brow as he stared down at Tony. “You’ve been walking up and down this hallway for the past ten minutes, and the least embarrassing reason why is being lost.”

The blunt honesty startled a laugh out of Tony. He grinned cheekily, rocking back on his heels, “Guess I’m lost then.”

Written for the RhodeyTony Mini-Bang! Art can be seen on twitter here!

two boy geniuses walk into one frat house: @starkslovemail (part of a series)

There were too many white people at this damn party.

The Other 'Mr Stark': Iron Man’s Mysterious Paramour: @presidentrhodes

Clint leans over to Tony and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re dating Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker.“(Based on this prompt: Tony keeps telling the avengers how awesome his husband is but they don't believe he exists because it has been months and they still haven't met him yet and then finally, Rhodey comes home.)

#adi's rec list #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #james rhodes/tony stark #james rhodes x tony stark #this got long 😳#but all of these fics are so worth it #twenty seven recs #I HOPE YOU ENJOY THEM RHAE

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

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ok back up, bestie. i'm gonna need you to explain that last name thing

Woo okay, storytime kids. tw racism I guess?

I mentioned in the tags of this post that I have had two different last names even though I've never been married. I'm half-Hispanic. My father is a first-generation American and my grandparents are from Spain and Mexico.

Something to know about my dad: he's a genius. A literal genius. Everyone thinks their dads are really smart, but mine actually is. He has 3 degrees and he got 4.0s for all of them (bachelor's in architecture, bachelor's in structural engineering, and masters in business). The man can do calculus in his head. He knows the answers to questions before everyone else is even done reading them. He's not just good at math either. He speaks multiple languages, can read really fast, is a talented artist and all that. I'm smart, but not like him. I'm talented, but not like him. It's a lot to live up to honestly.

He hates people because they all bore him to death. He's not social, he's not affectionate, he's not friendly, but he is an exceptionally hard worker. He grew up with nothing. His family was very poor. He had to learn English in elementary school. There was no money. Sometimes he would go days without eating anything from the time he was a kid into his time in college. His genius got him into college, not his money. He is deserving. He is hardworking. And he is Hispanic.

After he graduated from college, he immediately was hired at an engineering firm. Naturally, he excelled. He was promoted quickly and over men who had been there much longer than some 20-something Mexican kid. He was relentlessly tormented, primarily over his race. The thing that was often repeated was "he only got here because of affirmative action" and "he's the diversity hire."

Another thing about my dad. He is white passing. His hair and eyes are dark and he tans easily, but if he doesn't get too much sun, he becomes very racially ambiguous. Knowing this, my father made a decision.

When my mother became pregnant with my little sister, my father decided to change our last name. He changed it to a white last name. A common last name. A strong last name. (No it's not Smith, and no, I'm not going to tell you what it is). He decided he would not teach me or my sister Spanish. We are Americans, he would say. Americans speak English, he would say. He shrugged off his Catholocisim. He always had a hard time believing, as geniuses often do. It was not difficult for him to let go of that. He decided his daughters would never be the diversity hire. He did not want us to have our achievements discounted because of our race. Everything we did, we would earn ourselves and there would be no room for argument over it.

I was three when my sister was born, so I had my hispanic last name for three years before it was changed legally on my behalf. My birth certificate is three years younger than me.

My sister is white passing now. Her skin became less tan after puberty. But when we were younger, she had brown skin and her hair has always been a dark brunette and her eyes have always been so dark they are almost black. Nowadays, she is white passing, but in her youth, she was definitely treated differently than I was.

I am white. I have pale skin, strawberry-blonde hair, green eyes, the works. My accent is American. I have a very white name. I will never receive the racism my own blood receives or has received.

For this privilege, my only sacrifice was half of my heritage.

#personal #racism #not sw

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knybits · 4 years

Text

THE HATING GAME — 1

PAIRINGS —

↳ kochou shinobu x reader

SUMMARY —

↳ Geniuses within the same field yet rivals within each other’s eyes, your colleagues wonder when the sexual tension will break so that you two will become the department’s powerhouse couple so that they can enter you two into the couples contest against the other departments. Some things might have to be done by force.

WARNINGS —

↳ cursing, alcohol, smut

AUTHOR NOTE —

↳ look bros,,, i KNOW that it’s supposed to be last name first then first name,,, but the setting here is like idk fucking harvard or oxford lets get crazy. basically youre not in japan and youre a big brain bitch youre welcome. also,,, please drink responsibly and ask for consent. stay safe :,)

[ Navigation ]

—

It’s not like you always hated the genius that is Shinobu Kochou.

Besides yourself, she’s the other shining diamond within the chemistry department. The transfer student from Japan that doesn’t let her language barrier hold her back. In fact, she might even be more fluent in English than you (which is dumb because it’s your mother tongue but hey, she’s the genius here remember?)

Lilac painted nails with no chips and red glossed lips is Shinobu Kochou. Wrinkless lab coat and a face free of goggle imprints after an experiment is Shinobu Kochou. She’s pristine and a league above you (she might even be super rich but you could never find out.)

Sometimes she would slip out Japanese phrases or mumble in Japanese under her breath, so you know that her voice sounds the exact same no matter which language she speaks. It’s sweet like honey- a complete trap- and it intoxicates those around her to do her bidding (she’s a witch and you’d be damned to be proven wrong because this bit of information will go down with you.)

You’ve never spoken to her so you know that your dislike is misplaced. A mature adult would admit that this hate is more so envy, but fuck that.

Shinobu Kochou is perfect, flawless, an angel, and you hate it.

It doesn’t help that she would smile in your direction at times and wave a hand at you with nothing but kindness. You ignore her, of course, and your colleagues can’t fathom why you would walk past the princess without even acknowledging her.

And yet, for some reason, you find half of your department on their knees in front of you.

“Please date Shinobu! You’re our last hope!!” Your friend cries out, shoving a crummy “free beer on me” coupon she literally wrote up on a bright pink sticky note on her way over to you with 16 other people in tow.

“You want me to do what?”

Someone else steps forward to produce a flyer that another random department pasted up around the school. When you snatch the paper from them, the first thing you read is “department couple” and immediately decide to crumple the paper up.

“Wait! You didn’t even read it!”

“I’ve read enough,” you seethe, steam pour from your mouth as everyone cowers in fear of your sleep deprived self.

“C’mon (F/n)!” Your friend whines, draping herself over you and grovelling at your feet. “All the other departments are taking part in it! Each department pitches in $500 per couple and then they compete! Whichever couple wins receives the whole pool of money for their department!”

“Does everyone here even have enough money to pitch in $500??”

Someone else pipes in, “For a chance at over $6,000? We’re willing to take it.” There’s a low murmur of agreement from everyone and you roll your eyes. Everyone begins to throw empty promises at you (about as worthless as the crappy pink sticky note in your hand) before you narrow your eyes into a deathly glare at the crowd.

“There’s no way in hell you idiots will get me to date Shinobu Kochou. I’d rather an experiment blow up in my face than date her,” with those final words you storm away, lab coat fluttering the least bit for stupid dramatic effect and everyone is left speechless.

—

You’re in the middle of heating up your cup ramen when your roommate (the one that “gifted” you a free beer coupon) comes home, shuffling in. She has a guilty look on her face that bleeds “this is just for show.”

Araceli drapes herself across the counter for your attention but you decide not to pay her any mind, instead taking your cup ramen- fork stuck through the lid to keep the hot steam in- to the couch and turning the TV on.

You have three minutes to find a show to watch, but that plan goes to shit when Araceli groans aloud for your attention.

“What,” you snap and Araceli comes crawling over from the counter and into your side on the couch, her arms wrapped around your waist.

“I feel bad-”

“No you don’t.”

She keeps going despite your rude interruption, “But everyone in the department decided to go to the club tonight. I owe you more than just one drink, so pleaaaassseee,” she bats her eyelashes at you (they’re incredibly long and you’re envious them.)

Araceli’s puppy dog face always gets you to cave and you find yourself angrily shoving some half cooked noodles into your mouth. That response is enough for her to cheer, squeezing you even harder than she already is.

“Your wallet better be prepared,” you quip as you resume a show you desperately need to catch up on. You don’t catch the mischievous glint in her eyes, yourself already pinned to the plot of your show as it does its job to empty your head.

��

Clubs aren’t really your scene.

You used to go to them often when you started out as a freshman in college, but it lost its charm by your junior year. Now you prefer drinking in your apartment, every month or so slipping back onto campus to conduct some random experiments to allow Araceli her time with whoever she brought home.

There’s something about a club that lets you (loosely) compare it to a masquerade ball (loosely.) Music plays and alcohol burns so strongly within everyone’s systems that they can’t see the face of the person they’re grinding on. Oh, and within their respective timelines, you have to dress up for both a ball and a club.

In one of your more scandalous outfits, you can’t help but check yourself out in the mirror before dipping because damn do you look HOT and everybody better take some fucking notes. You confidence shoots up when Araceli whistles the second you step out of your room, and the two of you drive to the club a couple blocks from the college.

Before you two step into the booming building, Araceli waves wildly at her boyfriend with a bright smile. They give each other a quick kiss in greeting and a sudden thought crosses your mind.

“Why don’t you two enter the contest?”

Araceli tuts at you, wagging a finger in disappointment before saying, “See? This is why you have to read the whole poster dear roomie. The couple has to be two people from the same department.” Unfortunately, her boyfriend is from the modern literature department (how they met, you have no clue.)

The three of you make your grand entrance and everyone within your department (making up most of the club right now) scream with delight before ushering you over. A shot of tequila is pushed into your hands and you smile before downing your first drink of the night.

With a never ending stream of alcohol being passed into your hands and some good fucking music (the club on the other side of town has some down right god awful music that the math department and social science department likes) you finally let your hair down. Every once in a while, some sad drunk would cry to you, apologizing for asking you to do something you don’t want to do. When they hear your laugh over the loudspeaker they laugh with you, and another drink is passed into your hands.

The bass shakes the room and you jump to the beat, cheering and whooping during every drinking game. Araceli hangs off your shoulders when you both take a shot at the same time, and her boyfriend leads her onto the dance floor.

You’re sober enough- barely- to watch your best friend with fond eyes, her boyfriend and she dancing like idiots to the music and laughing as if they’re little kids. They’re horribly off beat when they jump but watching Araceli have the time of her life is enough to make you happy, and you’re glad you went to the club.

Araceli catches your eye from across the room and she stumbles towards you, taking ahold of your hand before handing you one last shot.

“Down it and let’s dance!!!” She yells and you do as told, throat burning and ears barely picking up her cheers as she drags you onto the dance floor.

By this time you’re actually honest to god shitfaced, but that’s fine. The music shifts and people that recognize the song go apeshit, yelling and jumping all at once at the bass drop. Araceli dances with her boyfriend, but the second you blink she’s gone with the rest of the crowd and you’re left alone to dance on your own.

When a song that you recognize starts to play you begin to sing along, but your voice gets caught when someone backs up into you. What was an innocent bump quickly turns into something more and now you’re one of the blackout drunk idiots that isn’t aware of who is grinding on them.

You can tell it’s a female when your hands move to grip her waist, and her back presses up against your chest. She smells of lavender and sweat, and her jet black hair tickles your nose. You can’t help but smile at this new feeling, and she makes a daring move to take one of your hands and lift it to grope her left breast.

With a hum of delight, you loop your finger around a belt band and twirl her around to face you. All you can see is big amethyst eyes, half lidded and staring pointedly at your lips.

“Can I kiss-!” You try to yell over the music, but that’s enough of an ‘okay’ to this mystery woman before her lips are greedily pressed to your’s.

There’s instant tongue, and you don’t expect anything less from someone so bold. She’s somehow slipped a hand under your shirt, feeling her way up your chest and you move a hand to grip her ass.

That’s the last thing you remember before your mind blanks from the ecstasy that is this mystery woman. There’s the brief flash of stumbling into an Uber, a soft and breathy voice giving directions as you suck on her neck like some teenager.

Then there’s the feeling of silk bed sheets, your fingers dripping wet after fucking her senseless and the look of excitement in her eyes as you lick up all her juices, tongue gliding up your digits.

At some point you have her slammed up against the walls and at another point your tongue explores her pretty little cunt. The constant sound of moaning, pleading, begging and you calling her a “good girl” circles through your head (though the latter is something you find yourself embarrassed about.)

Your eyes open to bright sunlight and a royal bitch of a headache. A low groan rumbles from the back of your throat and you bury your head into the pillows, but the scent throws you off because this is not your pillow.

When you look over the edge of your side of whoever’s bed you’re in, you catch sight of condom wrappers and your clothes scattered across the room. You also see a blindfold, but you decide not to think too hard back on that memory.

Warm arms slide its way around your waist and you freeze in surprise. A sickly sweet giggle fills your ears and when you turn to face the person you spent the night with your face pales considerably.

Shinobu Kochou, the witch herself, smiles at you peacefully. Her lipstick is smeared and there are a plethora of hickies scattered across her neck (you can only assume that there are more under the covers) but the sunlight bounces off her cheekbones so nicely it irritates you.

“Good morning (F/n). Did you sleep well?” Shinobu coos, and your life spirals into hell.

—

[ Next Chapter ]

#shinobu #shinobu kochou #kochou shinobu #kocho shinobu #shinobu x reader #kochou shinobu x reader #kocho shinobu x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #the hating game

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selenesofie · 4 years

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(alisha boe, cis female) have you seen selene sofie betancourt? selene is in her junior year. the mathematics major is 21 years old & is a capricorn. people say she is selfless, observant, aloof, and reserved. rumors say she’s a member of hastings. i heard from the gossip blog that she watched her mother kill her sick father.

THINK: SULA BY TONI MORRISON; MITSKI’S ALBUM “PUBERTY 2″; THE SCENT OF RUBBING ALCOHOL WHEN YOU CLEAN A WOUND; THE COLOR DARK GREEN

SUICIDE MENTION TW. DEATH TW.

the last thing she heard her mother say was that she didn’t like her. she loved her, yes. all mothers love their children. but she didn’t like her. she didn’t have to. why should she, when all she did was stare instead of speak; eat foods that were green but never red; remark that the milk was expired; correct the way her mother said things; stare and stare and stare? why don’t you ever talk? her mother would always yell. selene would close her eyes and focus on the sound of nothing outside. why don’t you like me? she wanted to ask back.

virginia wasn’t for lovers. or, at least, it wasn’t for selene. so at the age of 14 she decided to live in north carolina with her grandmother. it was nice. her grandmother loved her. and, better yet, she liked her. sometimes, she would ask her grandmother what her mother was like. before. before dad and before he got sick and before she crushed the little white pills into powder. except not the last part. because everyone thinks selene’s father committed suicide-- that the cancer festering in his bones was too much to handle. they say bone cancer is worse than dying. she used to hear him cry out in his sleep. selene is also supposed to think that her father committed suicide. but when he would cry out she would pull herself, drowsy, out of bed. peak into his room. and she saw what her mom did. at 8 years old, she didn’t understand. now, selene thinks that her mom thought it was mercy. and maybe it was. and his pain may have ended, but it ruined her mother forever. and it ruined selene too.

so she doesn’t speak too much. she likes to stare instead.

through gritted teeth and the college savings account her dad had set up for her as a baby, she got into yates. she doesn’t like to think of high school. it wasn’t notable. nobody liked her and she was indifferent. nobody liked her but she knew everything about them. it is kind of the same at yates.

these are the perks of staring: she knows that when aurora stares at her brother it is with jealousy; that orpheus likes everything in the color orange; that casper’s teeth aren’t straight, not really; that leo reads shakespeare like a bible; that hero is allergic to peanuts and neve to laundry detergent; and that will knew how to spell fuck even at 6 years old.

selene likes math. she likes things with answers. she likes when things can be solved. she still doesn’t like red foods (this all started because she is allergic to strawberries). she likes wearing earth tones. she doesn’t like authority figures. she likes actions. she likes the evil villains in cartoons who are geniuses with sad backstories (sometimes she thinks this could be her). she likes cats but also big dogs. she doesn’t like to cook but loves to eat. she likes reading about people and staring at people. she likes people. mostly, she’s just scared of them.

(scared that they won’t like her).

her love language is acts of service and words of affirmation. of course.

selene knows how to punch someone to break their nose. she doesn’t like talking too much, but she knows how to bite back. she knows how to use her words carefully. she knows she is probably smarter than einstein. she knows how to fake a moan to make a man think he is pleasing her. she knows how to block that man’s number later. she knows how to hate. most of all, she knows how to love. mostly, she’s just scared to.

wanted connections: ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.

#about #yatesintro #suicide tw #suicide mention tw #death tw #HI IM BACK #TIME FOR DRAMA!

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fluorescentpipedream · 4 years

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“About 11 years ago,” Mike starts as he scans the room “I attended my last Mensa party, I was pushing 18 and had enough of these kinds of things. It was the night some of you will get to experience tomorrow, the sort of ball where all us nerds get to dress up in nice clothes and pretend for a moment that we’re normal…”

He pauses, taking a drink of water and fixes the rather uncomfortable tie around his neck. He hated attending these gatherings, to him they were just a waste of time. But for some of these kids, they were the only chance to get out and realize they weren’t the only ones who were brilliant beyond measure.

As he looks around the room there’s an interesting cross section of people gathered in the auditorium. There are the ones he refers to as the Sheldon Coopers, the kids who are entirely too intelligent for their own good but not only are they that smart, they’re also holier than thou little pricks who believe that because they’re smarter, somehow they’re better than everyone. The parents of the Sheldons don’t help matters much and are often making it worse than their devil spawn has. Next were the kids who have the overly helicopter parents, the ones who judge everything their child does, and try to force them into molds of what the “gold standard” of geniuses are. These kids end up…well probably like the man he was about to start talking about. They were also the ones he noticed were early onset vegans and have very little amusement in their lives. The others were either the brilliant kids who had the terrible parents, which was his case, or they were…wait.

Are those kids playing Pokemon? He leaned forward slightly over the podium, looking at one of the pools of light on the auditorium floor where there was a small group, maybe eight or nine kids gathered together in a small circle with what looked like bags of chips or fruit slices, sharing like good kids and….yep. They were trading Pokemon cards in serious but hushed voices. Mike chuckled and looked back up at the room again, clearing his throat.

“I’m sure everyone in this room has heard of the tragedy of Dayton Foster.”

The gasp and whispers made him nod, somberly.

“I met him…Eleven years ago at the banquet, and I was with him when he suffered his seizure.”

Dayton wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes, with piercing brown eyes, his hair tousled and had an odd, rugged appeal to him. Mike had been enthralled during his speech, it was eloquent, despite the fact that man delivering it looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed, ran water through his hair and somehow managed to pull off a suit without looking like a complete disaster. Mike had approached him with a question, originally it was supposed to be about his theories on the Utopian like drift the United States was heading towards as he’d discussed but when Dayton had turned his attention to him, Mike forgot all that and had instead leaned into him and said he wondered what his kids tasted like. Dayton had stared at him for a moment with a quixotic expression on his face, almost like he hadn’t heard Mike.

There was only a moment of awkward silence before his response came, telling Mike to come to his hotel room at the Hyatt and he could find out. Considering the man had opened the door fresh out of the shower with a towel around his waist, Mike had assumed he hadn’t expected the boy to come, but he’d taken hold of the front of Mike’s shirt and pulled him into the room without a word, only a smirk. When Dayton had kissed him, he tasted of cloves and whiskey, and Mike had been putty in his strong hands. For a moment, his minds’ eye lingered on the taste on his lips, the stubble and the hair in the man’s eyes and he started to realize why he was drawn to Travis in the first place. Damn he wanted to call him…

“Foster, at the time, had an IQ of over 230, which is impressive, especially for the fact that he was also a known alcoholic.” And a lech. But he left that part out. “He and I met in this very room and we spoke at great length, he was a brilliant mind, getting ready to start work in Washington for the FBI as a criminal investigator and serial profiler, which at the time was a pretty big deal, especially since he had…” Mike looks down at his papers, skimming through them to find his place again. “Four degrees and spoke seven languages by the time he was 12. Despite several people warning a very young and naive me not to take too much of what he said to heart, I found myself drawn to him almost like a moth to the flame. It probably had something to do with his outward appearance, I mean…he was hot.”

He chuckled and heard a few others in the back do the same. Ah…so they did know who he was talking about. Good. Mike leaned back from the podium, taking a few steps to the side and turned on the headset, making sure it worked before he moved. His eyes fall again onto the kids who were sorting energy cards off to the side and he smiled. He always wanted to be one of those kids. While still looking at them, he started again. “During our conversation at the ball the next day, he issued an unusual warning that, at the time, I assumed was just him being a little loose lipped but following his seizure, I realized was actually very true. He told me to be careful the kind of things that I used to distract myself. Distractions can be key, he said. But it’s the vices you choose to use that will either be your saving graces or your worst nightmare.”

That conversation had taken place after they’d had sex, he’d been laying beside Dayton as he smoked. It had been Mike’s first time with anyone and at the time he wasn’t listening that closely for what he was being told. In fact, he’d been more interested in moving back under the blankets.

“For me, I wandered down the same road as Mr. Foster for several years, falling into the pitfalls of being exactly what he said I would. I am, like many in this room, smarter than your average bear and when you’re surrounded by everyone else, you sometimes feel like you would give -anything- to just be normal.”

Mike sighed softly and looked down at where his friend Ali was sitting in front row looking up at him with pride in her eyes. After they left this hell, they were going to England to meet her boyfriend’s parents for the first time and find out exactly what being with the Lord would entail. A little over a week ago he had been dancing in a cage in a gay bar in St. Louis, blown out of his mind on ecstasy and cocaine, anything to not deal with his breakup, revenge fucking his way through St. Louis and attempting to not exist for a while. He let out a sigh, realizing the Pokemon Trainers had tuned into the lecture as well.

“I’m going to come right out and say it. Normal is boring. And trying to be like everyone else isn’t worth anything in the world. You are all here because you aren’t normal, you’re geniuses in some way. You stand above the class because it’s how you are, and you know what? That’s okay. It’s taken me another 11 years to realize that what my mentor was trying to warn me about is inevitably something we all end up going through in some degree. Some of you will be up here in ten years thinking back on something that happened to you that changed your life, and some of you might not be with us again ever again. Either you will have realized that, as reassuring as it is for there to be a whole club of other people just like you, they can’t help you in the real world. Or…you may end up like Mr. Foster.” He took a moment to look at the wide-eyed kids in front of him. “And if that is the case, I want to extend my greatest sympathies to you now.”

Mike sighed. “My message actually isn’t for the young ears out there, but rather the people fueling your genius right now. Aside from being awarded with the MacArthur grant, and solving not one but two of the unsolvable math problems in my 28 years,” He had to pause for a moment as the room erupted in applause. Raising his voice an octave, he started again “I also work as a video director for Revolver Records.” And a gay porn director with his drag queen friends, but he left that out too. “I’m outspoken about my identity as a homosexual man and I don’t feel the need to hide behind anything in order to make everyone else more comfortable with my existence but that is because I’ve lived through my mistakes and my slips have luckily been caught by friends who are willing to keep my head above water. I wasn’t always that brave or that strong. I came from a family that wanted me to be smarter than everyone else but never really step out and stand up for myself. Something changed in me when I met Foster, because I began to see for myself that I have control over my own life. In that vein, my message, is to the parents and guardians.”

Mike’s parents weren’t there for him. They tried, endlessly to use him for their own means because he was smarter than everyone else in the room. The same had been true of Dayton Foster, he was in his 30’s when he suffered a seizure and fell to the ground, striking his head on the ground and the resulting brain damage caused him to lose a lot of what had made him the man everyone had respected. Mike had knelt beside him, helping him to roll on his side so he didn’t asphyxiate and had rhythmically run his hand along the man’s back, attempting to soothe him. He was scared that night and realized that while Dayton was wearing a wedding ring, he never actually spoke of his husband and aside from the boy he’d bedded the night before, he had no one with him. Mike shivered and brought himself back to his speech.

“Your children are different than the rest of the world. Some of them may be in college before they can even drive a car and while that’s okay, you need to remember they are still children and they still need you. I see the look of the parents out there who have already forgotten that they still have a child because of how ‘adult’ they seem. My parents weren’t there for me and for the longest time no one else was either. I found friends later in life that kept me from completely imploding but with everything I’ve told you about Mr. Foster, you can probably guess he didn’t have the same luck. He worked for everything he had but it all fell through his fingers as he drank himself to sleep most nights and spent his days trying to make himself not feel anything. Foster lost everything that made him the man he was known for and I don’t want to see that happen to any of you.”

Mike had been punctuating the words ‘any, of and you’ by pointing at the kids in the audience. “It is so easy to fall into the pitfalls of ‘I’m smarter than all of you and I know it so that makes me better than you’ but what you’re going to find when you get out in the real world is people…all those average people who have bullied you for being too smart, they’re going to look down on you -because- of your intelligence and you acting like you’re better than them now is only going to make it worse going forward. Mensa can help you, it looks great on your college admissions, especially when you’re 12 and going to college. But in the end, you must know how to function with the rest of society, and you need someone in your corner. You parents out there, you must be there for your kids. If you aren’t…” He let the words hang in the air in for a moment and could already see the phones coming on in the back and middle rows, the Karens ultimately mad that he called them out for their shitty parenting practices or the ones who were tweeting about how they do everything to make sure their child succeeds but when they leave here, they won’t go where the child wants, they’re going to make them go back to doing ‘smart people things’. He sighed, picking up a bottle of water from a stool near the back of the stage and took a drink. Turning back around again he made a motion for the house lights to come back on.

“I look around this room…And I see so many different types of people and I’m sure you’re all doing exactly what -you- think you should be doing for your kids. When was the last time one of your kids went for the bike ride with their friends? When was the last time they went to an amusement park or even Chuck E Cheese?” He looked down when he heard an ‘ooh!’ off to the side and smiled, seeing a little girl run over to her mom and excitedly motioned with her hands, probably asking about the same thing. And honestly the mom looked like she was thinking about it.

“Kids need to be kids. You can be brilliant and still be a kid. You can go play with your friends, have sugar or play sports for the fun of it. If you’re not able to find something to enjoy in your life, you may find yourself sitting in a window watching the world go by and wondering why you’re still a part of it.”

This wasn’t the lecture he had written and that had been approved when he’d been invited to speak, but for some reason he had been thinking about Foster for the last few days, unable to really get him out of his head, probably because he’d hit the ground a little too hard and realized he was headed in the same direction. That and he’d been thinking about Travis and the two were…a lot alike. When he and Ali had arrived at the banquet the day before he had seen a lot of kids being kept away from the sweets and the snacks, some of them looking the way he used to, bullied and uncomfortable and then there was the Trainers he’d noticed tonight. These were animated, chatting with adults and other kids, wanting to hang out and talking about going to the museums or go to one of the parks in Washington and spend the day playing. All these different personalities had caused him to change his tone a bit.

As he moved back over to the podium again, Mike picked up his papers and shuffled them a bit. He had notes about Dayton because he was just going to mention him as a cautionary tale and for a moment wondered if the man ever gets on Youtube, because this was inevitably going to be on there.

“You know, I realize, your programming card said I was going to talk about how I solved the world’s most complicated math problems and how focus and determination can win you the biggest prize but honestly…I figured out the first one because a mathematics professor in college was annoyed by an impetuous thirteen year old finishing his whole semester in a week and the other one because I was bored and wanted something to challenge myself with.” He chuckled softly before he started speaking again.

“I have another quote from Mr. Foster for you, and it’s one of my favorites from one of his books. “Boredom is a prerequisite for genius, and sometimes for so many other things. Try new things, you’re always going to be learning but sometimes it’s nice to detach your brain and just…Do something considered trivial. Fun should never be criminalized, especially for us smart people. We sometimes forget what it’s like to do something with no other intention but to do it.”

Mike bowed his head, thanking everyone for having him and stepped off the stage, bending down when he stepped on an abandoned Pokemon card. He put his foot over it for a moment as he was bombarded by several people coming up to talk to him. When they left him, he knelt and picked up the card, turning it over in his hands. It looked like a normal card on the back but turning it over it was holographic. Raising his voice, he noticed the Trainers were all gathering again around a taller boy named Isaac and the littler one he’d seen wanting to go to Chuck E Cheese.

“Who lost a Legendary Mew card?”

The little girl was the one who came up and asked for it and he smiled, handing it down to her. He had met her the day before while she was playing with a Nintendo DS and her mother seemed to be fielding off the glares of the other mothers here who thought those things were less than appropriate for smart children. Her brother, Dakota had been playing what seemed to be a never-ending game of tic-tac-toe with their father. He had inadvertently broken her heart when he’d expressed his surprise that she had good parents.

Beatrice, which was a big name for a such a small girl, swished her little dress as she stood there, patiently waiting her turn to talk to him and rolled on the heels of her sneakers. While she waited for him to be done with the adults she turned to talk to Isaac, Mike only caught a couple of words, something about Pokemon Go, something about the Smithsonian and then something about a...soda stream? Whatever...She said said goodbye to her friend, hugging the older boy around the waist before turning back to him again. Once everyone was gone he knelt in front of her so he could watch her eyes.

“So...how bad was I?”

She giggled and started to speak when a woman very rudely interrupted her. Mike held his hand up to silence the woman, telling her he had no intention of talking to her now that she had interrupted their conversation and widened his eyes, looking at Ali over Bea’s shoulder.

“You did great! But...um...What happened to him?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Foster…what happened to him?”

“Oh…” Right. “When I looked him up last night Google said he’s living in a place called Monroe Manor in New Orleans.” It was a type of adult care facility. Mike had been on the website for a while looking at it, the idea was interesting. There was the main hospital building and then on the property there were duplexes where the patients that wanted to try living on their own could try. He paused for a moment before speaking again. Beatrice was probably five, he wasn’t sure about her internet time but decided to mention Dayton’s blog. It was depressing if you read into it too much but there was still something left of the man in there, you could tell by his very long posts. “He’s staying where people can help him, he’s been there for a couple of years, I think.” He watched her eyes widen and she seemed to be thinking about something very serious. Looking up at her mother, Mike smiled. “Um...Dayton has a blog on Tumblr, I don’t know if she could actually get on it, but it’s kind of interesting.”

A quick Google search would also tell you that Dayton Foster had been in and out of jail several times over the last eleven years, from drunk and disorderly to public intoxication and spitting at a cop during an arrest for public urination and ‘lewd’ behavior, whatever that meant. When Mike had looked him up there was also a report about his attempted suicide a few years ago. Someone had found him sitting in Audubon Park with a gun in his mouth, apparently playing a very dangerous game of roulette.

“He’s doing better now.” The look in her big green eyes told him she didn’t believe him. Mike sighed as she looked at him square in the face and said exactly that.

“We’r/e at a Mensa meeting, I’m very smart...just like you. So...how is he doing?”

Mike wondered for a moment how Dayton would react getting a picture from a little girl that said, ‘Get Well Soon’ but all he could really do was shrug.

“He’s not exactly giving TedTalks, but I guess he’s doing okay...I haven’t actually spoken to him.” And now he felt bad about it. He sighed and looked at Bea, earnestly wondering how he was supposed to explain how he used this man to tell a cautionary tale but knew nothing about his health.

“I don’t think he’d remember me, honestly. Uh...you’ve got my e-mail right? If you want to talk, I’m always around.” Plus they live relatively close...for now. Is it weird for him to be friends with a 5 year old? Probably...at least he’s gay.

Another handful of people came up and started asking him questions about what he was doing now, how he’d solved the problems or what he had done with the money from both the problems and the grant and about 100 other things. Mike sighed and slumped against Ali once they’d all left him alone. None of them had actually paid a lot of attention to his speech, instead they focused on something minute or accused him of not knowing what he was talking about because he wasn’t a parent. His dry comeback with ‘no but I am a genius’ hadn’t gone over well. Looking at his friend he sighed.

“The only one that cared was 5....” He cursed.

“Get me out of here…I think I’ve had enough of these kinds of people for a lifetime.” He’d depressed himself and aside from being hungry and ready to be anywhere other than here, he also now wanted to call Travis and tell him he missed him.

Dammit.

#Ben schnetzer #character

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

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the idea of making hc’s of children is sosososo cute. i’ll follow ur steps chloe @akaashit-baeji lolol this is gonna be really self-indulgent buuut my excuse is that it’s my birthday so here it goes... i'm writing the last half of this with a hangover and a bad case of dysmenorrhea... sucks 2 be me

Oikawa Teru (及川輝)

his name “輝“ means “bright”, and this boi lives up to it because, let’s face it, he’s gonna be like his dad. he embodies this “brightness”, in a way that he’s smart, and he makes sure he and his team’s (or whichever team he’s going to be in) will shine on the court

wavy/curly hair and a victim of my and his dad’s astigmatism. always has this cheeky smile, and he gets my brimming energy so he’s really approachable and charming

very good with words; it’s like he always knows what to say

when he plays he also wears contact lenses

but don’t be fooled. in their generation, it’s him who has to put iwaizumi’s son in check. he knows everything about his teammates too, he knows more than what he lets on (which sometimes, they find creepy, but they all know he means well)

anyway, unlike his dad, he doesn’t really mind having geniuses around. instead, he watches them very closely; something like “mutualism”. he knows what he lacks and he knows he can learn from them too, vice versa.

is into horror games. in his free time, he and his sister take turns playing. and they decide it by seeing who can last the longest without flinching/screaming. he’s annoyed because his sister’s better at it

has fans, ngl. i mean look at him. however, the female fans especially, are pretty on guard. he’s approachable, but anytime they see him with his sister... they back out. he doesn’t mind, he loves his sister and it actually amuses him. he’s the same when it comes to the boys who hang around her too!

basically protective siblings who are always there for eo

is very neat. can’t concentrate when something is out of place. he keeps his nails short, has a somewhat flowery scent. yes, he uses female perfumes because he despises strong smells.

bug-catching was his childhood hobby just like mine’s was. used to sneak beetles in iwaizumi’s son’s backpack back then

he will never admit it but he actually asks his sister for fashion tips because his taste sucks ass so bad

basically his major problem or issue in life is getting compared to his father (he’s also a setter). he hates that so much, being hidden in the shadow of his dad, and when people just recognize him for being oikawa tooru’s son.

something he and ushijima’s child relate to so strongly. they’re friendly rivals; might end up being teammates in their career hmm

so when he’s the one stressed, he skips practice for a day just so he could recollect his thoughts. usually stays in the library to read books he picked up based on the titles; might either open up to iwa or his sister later on, it depends. then when he’s okay, he doubles the amount of training

Oikawa Rie (及川麗恵) it’s /ri-ye/ oki

so the kanjis are: "麗" meaning, beautiful and "恵" is blessed. tooru thought of this name obviously

also has curly hair like mine. has that tiny mole below her eye just like i do. actually has lots of moles over her body; one time she fell asleep on the couch her brother drew connecting lines between the moles on her arm and called them constellations. it was nice she thought but still, the next day, teru had to wear a band-aid over his nose bridge.

she’s just a year younger. is less “vibrant” than her brother, a bit more serious. has a resting bitch face and she’s not even sorry about it and i love her for that

she’s actually relieved she looks like that, or else she knows the girls in her class would flock to her just to get in her brother’s pants. usually brushes them off with “ask him, not me” or “do you think that’s any of my concern?”

her tongue her words damn never get to this baby girl’s bad side she’s gonna burn you alive. like fr when she’s angry, oh she’s gonna show you that she’s angry. but tbh she's very sweet, leaves little notes or little gifts to her friends every now and then

she just doesn’t want her brother’s heart to be broken (she’s heard stories from her mom about her dad’s many hs exes), and she knows teru’s struggles

therefore

doesn’t really like volleyball that much. it’s because she didn’t get to grow up with her dad around, she felt like it separated her from him. she’s not mad at him though. she’s very supportive of him and her brother.

used to play vb though when they were kids. but that’s all it was for her

she’s the team’s honorary manager lol the occasional “i brought you guys sumn” or “something-kun, a girl from my class says she likes you so do your best” etc

the team’s lil sister how bout that

despite being tolerant of horror games, this girl is vvvv squeamish. she cries at the sight of internal organs or blood. biology lab was the worst time of her life

when she dug up my hs videos she was shook to discover i once did theater. and thus begins her interest in theater too

and??? baby girl is actually???? really really good????

the girls she used to shut down nicknamed her “prima”, short for “prima donna” she hates it. hates it more when her closest theater buddy was the one who spread that around

immediately went to the gym to spike some balls from her brother. baby girl was crying because she was just so pissed.

she was given ice cream and sweets afterwards. ugh it’s so cute idk she’s baby to the team skksksk they protecc

in that upcoming play, her first ever performance, the whole team got front row seats and howled when she came on during curtain call; it was vvv sweet and memorable even if the guys were kinda reprimanded afterwards lmao

which is why, in return, boiis also have a hard time approaching her because damn??? the vb team as your knights???? excuse me???

oh have i mentioned she has a sweet tooth? mygod. she has a stash of sweets in her room. teru has had to sneak some away because she might get tooth aches or diabetes

her pastel nail polish is arranged by shade, her body clock is fucked up lmao she hates the mornings; has succulents by her window which she names after various characters from books/plays etc she’s for sure gonna be a theater actress tho

asks help from iwa’s son for math. even her brother’s 0% help. teru is smart but a terrible teacher. she’s an above-average student and that’s all that matters for her. she can leave the spotlight to her brother because she only craves one type of spotlight

Miya Seiichi (宮聖一) and Miya Seiji (宮聖二)

their names literally mean “聖” sacred then “一” is one, and “二” is two

atsumu thought it was funny. when they were kids, seiichi’s nickname was “juan” and seiji’s was “tutu�� (i gave them the nicknames)

when the twins discovered the meaning behind the nicknames, they hated it. especially seiji, he despises it vvv much

so when they were hs, seiichi = chi, seiji = ji for the people they're close with

as we can see here, the twins unfortunately got my curls. seiichi likes his hair as is. he doesn’t like the thought of dyeing his hair just to be differentiated from his twin. in fact he enjoys twin jokes, enjoys tripping people up about it. seiji on the other hand, grew tired of his brother’s jokes and by the time hs started, he sacrifices his soft hair.

between the two, seiji is the one who has my ugly eyesight. add to the fact that he reads a lot (once he starts he can’t put it down. so he reads in the dark, in a moving car etc)

the piercings was a thing that happened between them, and their cousins (which were also twins wtf)–it was a 2v2 vb thing and they lost

surprisingly, the cousins weren't pleased bc atsumu didn't scold them for getting piercings (but for playing half-heartedly). seiichi wanted the piercings tho tbh it was the perfect excuse. ngl, seiji also wanted them.

first let's talk abt seiichi, aside from the fact he also got my mole (he feels it makes him look cuter tho)

seiichi's into vb, but not a setter. he's the ace. may or may not push through with it as a career. he hasn't decided yet. is actually a bit sad that seiji didn't join the vb club in hs, he wanted them to be like his dad and uncle.

seiichi doesn't have any uh, quirks like shutting the whole cheer squad up like his dad does. but he usually dribbles the ball five times before any serve (this is something i did before) and he likes the 'ooooh hey' thing the crowd does when he goes for a serve

his side of the room doesn't have much stuff going on except workout equipment. he follows what exercise plan i give him as da PT mom that i am, and he is very strict with his diet and with what he eats–he's close to not needing a calorie counter anymore; but not a picky eater. he loves his uncle's cooking very much and he is jealous he can't cook even if he tries

he can do beatboxing, he learned it through youtube lmao his spotify playlists are da bombest; he learns a lot in youtube tho in his free time. his current interest is magic tricks and french (he thinks he can use it to woo that girl from class 4)

he hates insects, and hates mess. he has had to scold his twin about it that it escalated to them having this imaginary line in the middle of the room

anyway, he's straightforward. but not rude. he just doesn't like any pretenses so he says what he thinks or feels is right. may or may not have led to some misunderstandings, but he owns up to his mistakes if he crossed a line

next, seiji

even if he looks like a nerd with his glasses tbh he is not he actually hates studying. you can love reading without having to love studying right? he's that dude

the only time that he regrets dyeing his hair was when he realizes couldn't change identities so his brother could take his exam for him

his side of the room is littered with his sketches, notes from books, pencils everywhere – he drew a bunch of ants one time on a paper and made it look like they're real ass ants and placed it on seiichi's pillow

to solve this problem, atsumu has planned to give him a tablet for his next birthday

quits vb in hs because he kinda lost interest? he still finds it fun but he doesn't wanna be put under the pressure that his dad and uncle left for them lmao

he's in art clubs tho

he designs banners/posters for the team anyway. they use his strategic mind from the shit he's read for any plays and stuff so when he's not drawing, he's thinking

he might look like he has no emotions, but tbh he is more emotional and empathetic than his brother. he cries easily over the simplest things, like those grandparents vids, or rescuing animals and stuff

and thats why he doesn't let people in too much bc he knows he'll be hurt (dw seiichi knows this vvv well, and even if they do have arguments, he loves his lil bro and helps him about this)

has once begged to have a cat at home–seiichi didn't want bc he knows his twin is gonna leave him for clean up lmao

he can cook period.

he's gonna either be an architect or an animator, still hasn't decided.

his music taste sucks lmao. his youtube recents are filled with cooking stuff; in constant conversation with his uncle abt cooking lol it be cute sometimes atsumu is jealous bc he feels his son is closer to his brother than with him

he is forgetful that's why his stuff is messy lol he keeps misplacing stuff, sometimes it's literally in front of him and he's just 'where????'

but remembers dates well, remembers plays well. he's good at nitpicking tiny nearly insignificant details. just anything outside studying? he's good. dw he passes his classes but he hates giving effort for that shit lololol

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #saleeta

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piezein · 4 years

Text

Math and Myself

Not to sound like the stereotypical autistic white cis male, but math is my current special interest.

I think the reason as to why the autistic community views this stereotype as harmful (and it is harmful), is because allistics don’t really grasp the idea of what a special interest is? A special interest isn’t something you’re necessarily good at but it gives that delightful burst of joy and happiness in our lives. It is not an obsession but an escape, a things that is ours personally. So at the risk of sounding like a stereotype, I’m going to reflect on my special interest in math and my tumultuous relationship with it.

Like every other “gifted” child, I was put into a special math program from second until fourth grade. I did have the basic skills, addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, but due to the special math program, I never developed a good foundation in geometry, fractions, decimals and the like. After a while I got lazier and lazier, I understood nothing and our teachers expected us to know everything, like some omnipotent deity. Fifth grade served me no better when our class was given a particularly moody math teacher who would sometimes mock our efforts and take some (I’m not sure if these things are even offensive to neurotypicals, but I was once taken aside because I had written “my dad helped me” on one of my homeworks).

Come high school, I had grown to hate math with such a passion. Our new teacher was sort of on a weird power trip most of the time, but I have to admit I came to have some of the small rush of happiness with the introduction of algebra. Eighth grade came and I went back to treating math indifferently. It was simply another subject to get over with. In fairness to math, I was focused on another recurring special interest, biology.

9th grade was the worst. Our teacher never made math easy to understand, he was difficult to speak to, and constantly did some pretty horrible stuff like gaslighting and group punishment. He convinced me that I was simply not trying hard enough, or d*mb. If I didn’t hate math in my elementary years, I hated it in 9th grade. I not only hated math but I grew scared of it and would just fail my exams. I will not continue writing about my 9th grade experiences in this post. I still get upset when I think about it.

I regained some of that respect for math back in tenth grade, but I was still deeply scarred emotionally. My teacher, who I am very fond of, cultivated some confidence back in me and I came to enjoy math a bit. However, I still viewed it as merely a tool and something to get over with.

I didn’t really take math in senior high school, but I had one general math class which I actually liked, even though our teacher was often absent. I understood the concepts and I had some of that rush sometimes. After that class though, math was nothing to me. In my entrance exams, I would guess the math portion and not even bother reading the questions.

Now comes college. I originally was in biology for premed, but switched to physics after I suddenly lost almost all interest in biology. I made a logical argument with myself. If I did well in my math and physics classes in my first term, I would shift to an actual physics program, if not, I would go back to biology. If I merely survived, i would remain in premed physics.

I didn’t expect to love math. Our professor was a rumored terror of the math department, so I began studying in advance. I recited in class, did the problem sets, and when the first test came, I got a measly 78%. (78% is quite low by Philippine standards. It is a passing grade, but not that good.) I was really disappointed as I was used to inputting a certain amount of effort and getting the expected results for that amount.

So I studied harder, I tried understanding the logic behind trigonometry, inequalities, and functions, and over time, I did. I really really adore my math professor, she was able to teach this kid (me) with almost 0 foundation in mathematics. I started acing tests and I got a rush anytime I did math, (just realising now I sound like I’m on meth hahahha) and I looked forward to my math classes everyday. Damn, I even started stimming so wildly in math class, jumping and hopping and flapping, because I really felt like a bird! In FIlipino, we have a word that describes the fluttery feeling when you see your crush called “kilig” but I get this feeling when i do math. And I love it.

I’m now on my third term of taking college level math, and although the online classes have dampened my happiness with it, I still love it, and I don’t see myself losing interest in the near future. I escape into math lessons when I feel stressed, and although math is difficult, and I do have difficulty with it sometimes, it rewards my efforts and helps me get back into shape. This is also probably why I dislike people interrupting me in the middle of my math homework/lesson.

Here are some things I learned from my journey with math:

1. Special interests don’t mean someone knows everything about it, but that they are so willing to learn about that certain special interest, simply because it is exciting and brings happiness to their life. It gives them something to be assured of, to process at their own time.

2. I have a braincrush type. Slightly sarcastic but understandable in the context because they express their thoughts quite clearly. Also, very passionate about their field of study and love teaching others about it. Ok I’m going to stop.

3. We should not mistake passion for intelligence. The only reason I came to be “good” in math (in the formal, academic sense) is because I learned to love it and so wanted to understand it, and not because I could understand it.

4. Anyone can do math.

(insert Ratatouille reference here)

I am totally against the stereotype of autists automatically being math geniuses, but I am also an advocate for more women in STEM fields. I understand that allistics still exist and they would not have the same experience of autists with special interests in math, but it is good to share knowledge, passion, and love.

In most classes, math teachers are biased against women, or people presenting as female, so these groups are easily discouraged in math. I think teachers should make math more understandable and intuitive instead of using vague and complicated terms on new lessons. Math is wonderful, and not a burden, but a language to be understood and loved.

I’m going to study sequences and series now, but I feel good after writing that down. i’ll write more on this because one post isn’t enough to explain my complex relationship with math.

Please comment your thoughts on math and how it relates to autism!

#autism in stem #stem #math #autism #special interest #my pieze #august 2020 #education

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