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#adventures of a phd student
galculus · 2 years
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I defend my dissertation tomorrow
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icekingsimon · 10 months
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So I was reading The Enchiridion and Marcy's scrapbook, and this stood out to me...
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Not just that Simon was attending a Russian university (odd choice given that this university hasn't existed under that name since 1924. weird!), but also that he's a graduate student! Simon didn't get the chance to finish his degree.
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Who let this student travel the world doing field research on magic
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thatfrenchacademic · 1 year
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On my viva I'm just going to pull a reverse Uno on my jury at start asking them to defend their work. Like, sure, maybe my thesis is not great, but also, what was YOUR case selection strategy for your 2003 APSR article, Mr Tenured Professor ? What about the endogeneity in YOUR research?
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tchaikovskym · 2 months
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So far my phd experiences have been very varying. I'm going to list them.
Cons:
- no funding => had to call in favors for my research (like I need a guy to collect blood bc I can't do that)
- no clear organization structure => not clear what I have to do when I'm just wating for emails at this point, because so far all the emails I've sent with questions where answered with "sorry, we don't know, will notify when do"
- going to conferences paid by uni is another form of torment that I didn't know existed (getting all the formalities checked)
- not having a class/group, you're basically on your own. There is a group chat with news and job ads, but that's about it.
- it's asked to do some teaching/supervising, which is okay if you are employed by the uni, but basically an unpaid work if you're not
- no summer break (well there is a month technically but like. Lol. Nope)
- people think im stupid and wasting my time
- in data collection period I basically have no free time. At all. Like there was a point I woke up at 5:30am and was home at like 23:30 bc I had research scheduled 7-11 and 19-23 with my other job in between
Pros:
- I get to do research and department support for that
- I have a reason to keep up with latest research in my field
- Taking courses with other phd students who are really really smart
- going to conferences abroad
- free schedule that I can plan myself; also uni knows most phd students are employed and offers activities in the evenings
- feeling like I'm breaking the role society has put on me. I was born in a rather poor (or like lower lower middle class) family. I'm a woman. The highest degree in my family before me is a bachelor’s degree. A lot of odds against me!
- my advisor thinks I have the qualities for getting a phd and I want to prove her right. I like our little department and I want to be with them a little longer
- I believe I'll have better job opportunities if I get my degree and want to yeet myself north
- it's free. (Even better now - I get paid a little from the government for being a good student lol. This could change in september if other folks are better than me lol)
- I like research and I like learning new laboratory methods and I even like doing data analysis and I like drawing conclusions
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thelibraryiscool · 9 months
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in theory i fully support the whole 'between christmas and new year's do nothing at all'
in practice i have been grading all this time and will be doing other work every single day, probably
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exoentomologist · 1 year
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i am rubbing my evil hands together because it sounds like i’ll be able to add a third supervisor to my phd and get an ID card for the NHM so i can go to the archives on days that aren’t tuesday
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shmothman · 2 years
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Late night nobody’s looking post self insert bullshit ft clavell
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iliketangerines · 5 months
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Ok but the idea of Johnny having a thing for a waitress/server but being too nervous to do anything about it directly except come in all the time and make up excuses to talk sounds so adorable
excuses excuses
a/n: ohh, this was a cute one
pairing: johnny cage x gn!reader
warnings: none :)
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Johnny bounces his leg underneath the table, waiting for you to come out from the back and come and take his order
he shouldn’t be nervous, no way, he was Johnny Cage, he was getting his PhD in quantum physics and was a master at fighting
and he was scheduled to film for some indie film as the romantic interest, no way he should be nervous right now to talk to a waiter at some small local restaurant
and yet, here he was, fingers twitching impatiently and leg bouncing rapidly, nervous as the day he saw you several months ago
he always asks for your section, and sometimes he gets his timing wrong or you veer off your normal schedule, and he has to eat when the waiter isn’t you
but that was fine, especially when he saw how your face lit up when he gave you a big tip
he was a broke college student but that was fine if he got to see you smile because of him
Johnny fiddles with his fingers and straightens his back as he sees you approaching his table, tying the apron behind your back as you walk straight towards him
you pull out your notepad and greet him with a wide smile, calling him by name and asking if he wants his usual order
he gives you a dopey smile and asks actually if you can give him a recommendation for something you really like on the menu
you tuck your hair behind your ear as you bend over and look at the menu before him, eyes flitting between the different options
he wishes he could tuck your ear behind your ear for you, to ask you on dates and treat you to the best places, hold your hand, kiss you, dance with you
your finger underlines something on the menu, and you say that’s your favorite
Johnny immediately places the order, and you jot it down and ask if he needs anything else
he wants to make a move, to ask you out, to take you on a date, to let im pick you up in his shitty car on an adventure, but he chickens out and says no he doesn’t need anything else
you walk away, going off to the next table, and Johnny deflates in his seat, mentally scolding himself for not taking the chance and growing a pair
he goes over the plan in his head one more time to ask you out, he’ll just do it when he’s paying the bill
you bring over the food, warn him that it’s hot, before you go off and service another table, and Johnny unwraps the utensils folded neatly in the napkins and digs into the food
you have great taste in food as well, and Johnny has to struggle to not shovel the food into his mouth to try and seem somewhat gentlemanly in front of you
every time you come around, Johnny straightens his back, fixes his posture, wipes his mouth, and he can’t tell whether or not you’re glancing at him and smiling
finally, he calls for the check, unable to finish the rest of his food, and you kindly bring over a leftover box and a paper bag to hold the meal
he hands you over a wad of cash, enough to pay for the meal and still have a hefty tip, and you smile at him and blush slightly and leave with a small wave goodbye
packing away his meal, Johnny curses at himself for not being bolder, for not asking you out on a date, for not doing anything except be another customer in your day
he brings the meal home and digs the box out of the bag to put it in the fridge
his fingers crumple up something inside of the box, and he frowns, not remembering whether or not he had put something else in there or not
pulling out a napkin he definitely didn’t put in there, he flips it over and nearly has a heart attack when he sees a number on there with your name signed on the bottom
he nearly drops the food on the ground in a rush to get his phone out of his pocket and type in your number
leaving his food on the counter, he types and deletes messages, unsure of what to send and furrows his brows as his fingers fumble and become sticky with sweat
after what feels like an eternity, he decides on a simple but straightforward text, just saying it was him and when you were free this weekend, that he’d love to take you out on a date
he tosses his phone to the side, too nervous to see if you’ll text back, and he goes and puts his food away and takes a shower, trying to wash away the nerves
making his way back to his phone, he stares at it for a few seconds before finally picking it up and unlocking it, nearly having another heart attack when he sees you’ve responded back so quickly
you tell him when you’re free and your address with a small smiley face, telling him to surprise you, and Johnny immediately hops over to his dying laptop to look up date places
he was not missing this chance with you
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askinkiskarma · 2 years
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Illicit Affairs | Chapter I: Willow
Pairing: Neteyam x f!Human!Reader
Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death and disease
WC: 3,4k words
A/N: Sooo.. I kinda did something. This is the first fanfic I have written that will actually see the light of day, and also the first piece of writing (outside of master's dissertations, papers, scientific essays etc) that I have done since probably high school, which is longer ago than I'd like to admit. Anyway, I have been hyperfixated on Avatar recently, ATWOW fully bringing back my love and obsession for Pandora that I have had since 2009. I adore the new movie and the Sully kids, but I have a special place in my heart for Neteyam, so here we go. Let me know what you guys think. I work full time as a PhD student, so I'll try my best to write in my spare time and hopefully I can get this done the way I truly want to. This story is also loosely inspired by the incredible @forever--darling and her "One of Us" Neteyam fanfic, which I adore and have probably memorised by now with the amount of times I have read it.
I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine
“Wake up, Ace. It’s late already and there’s so much to do today, remember?” Norm’s voice pulled you out of a beautiful dream, one where you were flying on your chosen Ikran, high above the clouds, the worries…this lab. Albeit hard to swallow, you were almost relieved to be woken up, as feeding out-of-reach fantasies and dreams could lead to no good, anyhow. 
“I’m up… Jesus, Norm.” You felt yourself rise from your warm and comfortable bed and the feeling of your bare feet touching the cold, hard floor of the living quarters of the lab made you swallow a curse. 
“We left you some breakfast, get ready and meet us in the lab in 30, okay? We have the samples ready for you and you can run them after we’ve talked it through.” 
“Aye, aye, captain.” 
This was your life. You, among a few other people, were one of the only humans left on Pandora after the war took them back to Earth more than 17 years ago. Unlike the others, though, you were born here, on this foreign planet, the only home you’ve ever known. There was one more, a beautiful, feisty young man with a dark heritage, who liked to think that he is as much Pandoran as the actual natives. His name was Spider, and although you grew up together, there was not much you could say you had in common. He was wild and adventurous, has been his whole life; fully willing to immerse himself in the Na’vi ways and almost demanding a place amongst the people.
Although you have your doubts, he says the people were accepting of him, as he managed to befriend the most important family of the nearby Omatikaya tribe: the Sullys. Jake Sully, a former dream walker, rose to prominence as Toruk Makto, rider of Last Shadow. He brought multiple clans together to defeat the Sky People in their brutal quest for wealth and colonisation. He succeeded, after which he became Olo’yektan, leader of the Omatikaya. He is now fully Na’vi, after completing a consciousness transfer that allowed him to leave behind his human form and forever live as one of the people. It had never been done before. Jake was a great man, who became a mediator between the Na’vi and the humans left on Earth. His children, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, were brought up to know English and be accepting of everyone, regardless where they came from, as long as they had pure intentions and a strong heart. Spider was considered one of them. And, surprisingly, you were, too. 
Your mum was a medic and researcher, brought here many moons ago to assist the Dr. Grace Augustin and her team in their quest to understand Pandora and its miraculous biology. Your dad, a former Master Sergeant in the US Air Force, joined the RDA for their military purposes. You never met your dad. He died when the Sky People attacked, although no one knows for sure which side he ended up taking. Your mum didn’t even know she was pregnant with you at the time, that’s how new everything was. Your mum loved your dad and she maintained her belief that he ended up doing the right thing in the end. You believed that as a child, but now are not so sure. Nevertheless, you still kept his dog tag, in a drawer at the bottom of your desk, a reminder of where you come from and what mistakes not to repeat. 
Your mum died where you were 10. It was the worst day of your life. The cancer, which slowly spread in the beginning, overtook her being one faithful day, which you will never be able to erase from your memory. There is no chemotherapy, no radiation therapy, no drugs that could have prevented this, not here, not on Pandora. Your mum made a decision to remain on this planet she loved more than her own and it eventually killed her. She had no regrets, she said. She was happy to have lived and loved and died here, among Eywa. The Na’vi loved her. She was good friends and a mentor to Neytiri and Jake, both of whom agreed to give her a Na’vi send off. You were there that day, one of the few times you had visited the Home Tree. You remember the pouring rain, falling so hard it washed away the tears spilling from your eye almost as soon as they emerged. You remember Lo’ak and Kiri, your beautiful friends that have always been there for you, mourning with you. Your mum was their favourite aunt. She introduced them to music and films, and showed all of you her favourite books and painters and made sure you all understood that humans, despite their many flaws, have beauty and love and good in them, that no matter what, will prevail. “It will prevail because of you. Because you will carry it along and share it. You will revel in the beauty and fight to bring it back because what better way is there to live?”
You finished breakfast quickly, some dry toast with some fruit Kiri brought you the last time she visited and made your way back to the lab. You found Norm and Max, alongside two other human scientists, Tim and Claire, sitting on chairs next to the lab benches, discussing plans for the week. 
“There she is, the brightest of us all.” You smirked at the compliment, raising your eyebrows in amusement and sitting down next to Claire. 
“You’ve done great work last week, Ace The ELISAs show promise that Relensa might have some effect against this type of Pandora virus. I need you to now repeat it with the samples we’ve provided and also include a different type of positive control to the experiment, if possible.”
“Will do. How about a combination therapy? I know Relensa is not the only type of anti-viral therapy we have available. Amantidin, maybe? We have to go at this from all angles, you know?” 
“Our Amantidin reserve is running severely short, but give it a try. Try a dose-response? Maybe 100 nano molars to 1 micro molar? Try 1milimolar as a positive control?”
This was your life. Unlike Spider, you avoided the clan. You did not want to be the walking reminder of everything they’ve lost. You were happy to sit back and dedicate your life to helping from the shadows. Your mum was a medic and a researcher, one of the brightest in the world. She wrote the book on Na’vi anatomy and physiology, she wanted to understand the people and hopefully help them mitigate losses brought by disease. You continued that work. Although young, you learned everything there was to learn. Not like you had anything else to do. You worked as a scientist and a nurse and a doctor if needs be. You patched humans up, stitched their wounds, ran experiments on Pandora pathogens and tried to find a cure against viral and bacterial diseases that plagued the Na’vi. You spent your life in the lab, and in the adjacent hub, learning, working out and playing the guitar and piano your mum taught you when you were really young. You couldn’t say you loved it, loved being here all the time, but you were content knowing you were, in your own way, making up for your species’ past mistakes. 
Around lunchtime, you heard commotion from the entryway. A very familiar voice reverberated through the hallways. Your lips raised in a soft smile. Lo’ak. 
Removing your lab coat, goggles and gloves, you made your way towards the origin of the sound. The tall, much-taller-than-you young man picked up a breathing mask from the designated shelf and waved at you with unwavering enthusiasm. You loved this boy. Your brother, for all intents and purposes, your partner-in-crime for all time. He loved you, too, you knew that, and you thought in a different life, in a different universe, you were soulmates, braving life’s tough storms together. 
“Brought you lunch, angel.” Your nickname for you made you roll your eyes. You hated it, but the more you hated it, the more he used it so you remained silent. “I thought you could use a break from the stale excuse you guys call food around here.” 
Lo’ak spoke English with you most of the time. He took to your parents’ (and his dad’s) culture the most out of all the kids. You spent a lot of your childhood together, hunched around a computer with old reruns of shows your mum loved in her youth, shows and movies that were way before even her time. She said she loved seeing what Earth looked like before humans killed their mother. Shows like Gilmore Girls, Friends and Modern Family were some of her favourites. You devoured them as a child, and Lo’ak did so too, with you. You drove her crazy as children, and drove Norm and Max crazy as teenagers, both trying to understand references and sayings, buildings and activities, games and idiosyncrasies. The Earth you grew up watching and reading up was beautiful, a star in the night sky you will never be able to touch. 
Lo’ak made his way to the dining room of the hub, and lay several carefully-packed items on the table. Fresh teylu, cooked over fire and Pandora vegetables, all full of colour and flavour, all much better than anything that could come out of this place. You realise that you are starving as soon as you lay your eyes on them. Before you even sat down, you dug your fingers in and quickly ate some teylu, groaning at the delicious sweet meaty flavour. It was your favourite, and Lo’ak knew. He laughed at your apparent desperation and motioned for you to sit down. You obliged, and you both sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company and the food he provided. 
“How’s training going? I haven’t seen you in a few days.” 
“I die a little bit inside every time you make me remember I spend my days training like a little robot. It’s going fine. Tiring, you know? My dad is fully back in his Marine ways. He knows it’s been enough time that the humans are bound to return sooner or later. He says they’d never leave this world, and all its untapped riches alone without a fight. So it’s a lot of military training… if we walk like them, talk like them and fight like them, it might bring us some sort of advantage, you know?” 
“Yeah, I know. I know it’s a pain, but he’s only doing this to protect you guys. He’s right. The humans are bound to return one day and when they do, we have to be prepared.” He doesn’t know this, but you have also been training, learning about guns, going through your dad’s old manuals and whatever else the RDA has left behind that could possibly be of use. You use the guns that are in the hub to learn how to aim, shoot, strip field, reload and clean the weapons, so you too can be prepared when the time comes. You might be stuck in a weak human body, but you will not be weak. 
“Neteyam’s driving me nuts. He used to be fun, remember that? He’s such a killjoy, it’s hard to stomach being around him anymore. He’s always giving out orders, always making sure everything is in order and perfect, like him. He’s been training like crazy, and sticking to my dad like he’s some sort of fungus you can’t get rid of. Drives me crazy.”
“Hey, don’t talk about your brother like that. There’s a line, Lo’ak. Neteyam only wants the best for you guys, and he’s the oldest. He has to carry the burden of being the responsible one while you guy cause mischief all the time.” 
Neteyam, Jake and Neytiri’s oldest, is more Na’vi than all the other children combined, in both looks and personality. Whilst the two middle children, Lo’ak and Kiri have five fingers, eyebrows and a more human appearance, Neteyam is all Neytiri. He’s tall and lean and seems like he was born with a bow in hand. A true warrior, you always found him a tad intimidating. Just like his mum, he has his apprehensions about humans and avatars, and although he used to come to the hub quite often when he was younger, mostly to keep an eye on his siblings, the visits have become a rarity as of recent times. 
You wonder how the young man changed in the time you haven’t seen him. You used to be close as children, or at least that’s what you thought. Whereas Spider took to Lo’ak and Kiri, their mischievous personalities a good match for each other, you took to the oldest Sully boy. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he used to look at you like a puzzle he was trying to solve, but couldn’t. He used to sit in the back as you used to play piano, and his gaze on you used to make your skin blush and your heart race. You tried not to think about the pang of hurt that rose in your chest as you remembered that he essentially abandoned you, without so much as a farewell. 
“Earth to Y/N, are you still there?” Lo’ak interrupted your train of thought and you were half grateful that you didn’t have to think about Neteyam anymore. 
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“I was saying you’re right, I know I should be more understanding, I am happy I don’t have to be the one to carry all of responsibility, but it’s hard not to hold a grudge when it seems my brother was abducted by aliens and replaced with a weird, no-fun replica of himself.” 
You groaned at the young Sully’s ongoing verbal attacks, but said no more. Whatever was going on between the two Sully boys was, at the end of the day, none of your business. 
“Anyway…” Lo’ak started, a mischievous grin appearing on his beautiful face, “I know something you don’t.” 
“Mmm, what is that?”
“I’m not telling you, but let’s just say I think it will make you very happy.” 
“Well that’s just cruel. You know I hate surprises.”
After lunch, Lo’ak joined you in the recreation hub, where you kept a guitar and the piano that the humans left behind. You didn’t feel like going back to work just yet. You sat down on the cold floor and picked up your copy of Pride and Prejudice, your mum’s favourite book. The book was coming apart at the seams, worn down from all the times you have held it in your hands, as if gripping it tighter would bring her back to you, even if for only a split second. You sighed as you passed the book to Lo’ak and motioned for him to put it on the table next to him.
“Sing for me, will you? I missed hearing your voice.” 
You smiled up at him. Nobody knew you like Lo’ak did. Nobody accepted you the way Lo’ak did. Both of you felt out of place in this world, like you didn’t quite belong anywhere. He has spent many an hour confessing how alone he’s felt all his life. You’d like to think you helped. You picked up your guitar and played a familiar song, one you knew he loved.
“Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind , as if you were a mythical thing
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring, and there was one prize I'd cheat to win
The more that you say, the less I know
Wherever you stray, I follow
I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans
That's my man”
You sat like this for hours, laughing and playing and singing. You tried to teach him a couple of chords on the guitar, which looked puny in his massive hands. With a loud thud, the open to the recreation centre swung open, making both of your heads turn in shock. 
“Lo’ak, what the fuck?” 
The harsh tone came from a man, a man you barely recognised anymore. Tall and muscular, he was not the same Neteyam you last saw. He was adorning a carefully crafted neck piece that matched his hunter’s chest piece and the knife holder he kept by his hips. You took a second to adjust to the man in front of you, that you haven’t seen in so long, that will always have a special place in your heart. Your gaze eventually fell on his face, which, like the rest of him, matured so much in all that time apart. He was beautiful. His hair was freshly braided and you couldn’t help but stare at the beaded strands that framed his face. As much as his body and face changed, they didn’t hold a candle to his eyes. The big yellow orbs that always looked at you curiously and intently were now focused on Lo’ak with rage flashed across them. 
“You were supposed to meet me at the Home Tree a fucking hour ago, Lo’ak. Dad asked you to join the hunting party and pull your weight for once, remember that? Are you physically unable to do anything that is ever asked of you?” 
He is yet to even spare a glance in your direction. You felt your blood pressure rising at the oldest Sully, but you pushed it down to look at Lo’ak, who was staring daggers at his older brother. As he was opening his mouth to undoubtedly say something that would get him in even more trouble than he was already in, you cut him off. 
“It’s my fault.” You say in Na’vi. You doubted Neteyam was in the mood for English, so as to not escalate the tensions further, you opted for your semi-decent Na’vi. “I needed his help with some samples Norm got for me that I couldn’t identify. I’m done now, though. Sorry for taking him from his duties.”
His eyes finally snapped from Lo’ak and laded on your frame. You saw his lips parting in confusion and then settle in a firm line. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe. You changed. A lot. Your hair was now close to reaching your narrow waist, which he hated himself for noticing. You were wearing what the humans called a “top”, that was cut above your abdomen and had the word “Stanford” written across it. He’s sure he’s seen it before, although he couldn’t place where. You were wearing bottoms, short and blue, with cuts in them, which Neteyam didn’t get. Why are your clothes ripped? It’s not like you fought some animal in the wild, you never got out. He couldn’t help noticing how lean you had become, so lean, in fact, he could trace your muscles with precision, something he is rarely able to do with humans. Your species was puny and weak, which is why they needed avatars and exo-suits to survive on Pandora. Realizing he was staring, his eyes moved from you back to Lo’ak, and motioned for him to get up. Although he huffed and puffed, Lo’ak obliged without saying a word. He turned around before exiting the room, giving you one last exasperated look. You winked at him and clicked your tongue in the direction of the forest, a small smile on your face. This skxawng. 
“Hey, you.” You called after Neteyam in English, as soon as Lo’ak disappeared from your line of view. You don’t know what you expected, but you had to try. He turned around and his eyes met yours. It was like looking at a stranger. 
“I really have to go, Y/N.” He said, with a deep voice and slight accent, and his eyes fell on the floor as soon as he noticed the look of hurt that crossed your face. 
“Fine, go.” You said, quickly composing yourself. You refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he can hurt your feelings. You turned around, and busied yourself cleaning up, not sparing a second look in his direction. His gaze shifted back to your frame, and with a sigh, he made his way out of the lab and your life, once more. 
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forwhatiam · 2 months
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Happy 28th! <3 Here's my favorite fics I read this month, organized from longest to shortest. Fics with a * before them found their way into my bookmarks!
*One More Time Again by orphan_account (E, 232.2k)
On the morning of his second sold-out performance at Madison Square Garden, Harry wakes up to find that he's sixteen years old, on The X Factor, and that he has a chance to make things right.
A canon-compliant fix-it fic (sort of).
Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 (NR, 208.5k)
Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.
Half Agony, Half Hope by asphodelknox (E, 132k)
Harry's had enough of his shit year. Had enough of his shit ex and the fact that he graduated from university with no idea what to do next or what to do with the grief. Ed dares him to spend a month at the crumbling Tomlinson manor, and Harry goes cause what else do you do when your life's fallen apart?
It's not really haunted anyway... is it?
*a cycle of recycled revenge by brokenbeaks (E, 103.3k)
In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it.
Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.
Face Your Fears by SadaVeniren (E, 92.2k)
Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.
Gemma's Dad (Could Use a Guy Like Me) by lululawrence (NR, 82.9k)
The summer before Louis and Gemma's senior year of college was supposed to be their last big hurrah before they graduate college and become Real Adults in the workforce. They had it all planned and it was going to be filled with mornings skateboarding, afternoons at the pool, and evenings hanging out with as many of the neighborhood kids they grew up with as they can.
Of course, Louis wasn't planning on getting home and learning that Gemma's dad had gotten the house in the divorce and was dealing with things by focusing on work, the house, and his newly planted garden. It becomes obvious early on that Harry is a bit lost and Gemma is worried about him. To help both of them, Louis is more than happy to help Harry find himself again.
As the summer goes on, the adventures and day to day happenings allow Harry and Louis to spend a lot more time together than either of them ever anticipated and Louis finds it more difficult to keep his growing feelings in check than he ever thought it would be. After all, there wasn't a chance that Harry would ever be interested in Louis... right?
Here's Your Perfect by brightgolden (E, 54.1k)
In the world where mates are assigned to everyone and deposited to their door when an agreeable partner is found for them, Alpha Louis has recently been given his. However, he is nothing like the type of alpha that the omega academy prepares Harry for.
The Space Between by alltheselights (E, 39.9k)
Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.
Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
*everything of mine is yours by blueskiesrry (E, 33k)
With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.
No Surprises by louislittletomlintum (E, 21.8k)
An office AU where Louis is a loveable brat and Harry is working himself out.
your rainbow will come smiling through by hazkaban (T, 17k)
When Harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. When he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the Oxford Hopefuls subreddit. When they decide to meet, he's elated. He finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! When the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than Louis Tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. Now Harry has to decide whether telling Louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie.
Loving You's the Antidote by lululawrence (NR, 11.2k)
The one where Harry and Nick have been able to keep Harry's disorder at bay over the course of their relationship, but when they move to London and away from their support system, they find themselves in desperate need of help.
Normal Thing by sweetlarrybaby (E, 4.2k)
"I don't even know your name," Harry said, puffing difficult breaths in and out.
"Already at the final wishes, are we?" The beautiful man laughed. And, how could he laugh in such situation? They were about to die. The plane was about to crash and it was going to set itself on fire before they'd even hit the ground, and every last one of them would be dead. "I'm Louis, there you go. All your wishes are granted before your imminent death."
Peculiar Ugly Duckling by LadyLondonderry (GA, 3.7k)
Loowee is a fish.
Loowee is a fish born to a family of FOUS fish. You’ve heard of FOUS fish, haven’t you, reader? Yes, of course you have. Fish Of Unusual Size Fish, of course.
(There’s no need to tack the word fish onto the end of FOUS like that, but they simply do. It’s like having an ATM machine).
FOUS fish are all quite big fish, unusually large in size compared to the average fish of the ocean.
Loowee the FOUS fish hates being big.
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galculus · 2 years
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Tomorrow is the first day of my last semester of grad school. Previous semesters have included:
F19: "Was that step because of the Intermediate Value Theorem?"
S20: "We are moving to remote instruction for the next two weeks"
F20: "Is it Christmas?"
S21: "I have discovered it was difficult to move across the country in the middle of the semester, so I am moving back across the country."
F21: "Euler was not a war criminal"
S22: "Do you know about the fatness of a triangle?"
F22: "Did you find your keys?"
Pretty excited (and a little scared) to see what the last semester has in store.
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thatfrenchacademic · 1 year
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Supervisor gave feedback on draft, 1 dead 294 injured.
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tchaikovskym · 4 months
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Well it turns out I forgot to take my phd science exam this semester and I doubt they will let me do it in summer yeehaw
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Character: Indiana Jones
Warnings/Important info: Fem reader, implied English or at least has been to Oxford University. Angsty, miscommunication.
Notes: I watched Indiana Jones the other day and obviously my first crush never leaves because young Harrison Ford as an archaeologist adventurer is just *chefs kisses*
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It's bizarre really, potentially concerning, worrying to a degree, that after 5 years you know the back of his head from a glance. Suffice to say you try not to draw attention to yourself when you recognise who stands mere meters away from you talking to two of his students about antiquarianism.
Maybe you should have expected it, after all Henry Jones seemed to have a way of haunting you. Maybe you should have been prepared to see him, despite assuming that the United States was so vast that your move from the University of Oxford to Marshall College as a newly qualified Doctor of History would certainly not guarantee seeing him. Perhaps, it was the Moirai, the fates, trying to test your resolve or simply coincidence.
But, after five years without a single letter, a single telephone call or telegram, you certainly weren't keen to stick around and have a conversation with the man. Besides, you had lectures to teach, students to help, papers to grade (okay, maybe not the last one considering it was in fact the very first day of the academic year).
It is with a sharp back peddle that has you careering into a pair of students behind you with a clipped apology that you make your daring escape and it is a surprised call of your given name that has you freezing, turning about face and responding with a strangled "It's actually Dr. Y/L/N now."
"What? I'm not allowed to call you by your name anymore? Guess you've already recinded the right to call you Honey Bee too." There are students stopping to watch, what feels like the entire student body eager to watch the new History professor and the most loved Archaeology professor at each other's throats. A mystery arising from their familiarity and a curiosity at what history lay between the two. You certainly weren't eager to put on a show.
With a flick of the wrist you smooth down your skirt, turning on your heels and walk away calling out to him, "It was a pleasure to see you again, Dr Jones." It leaves Indiana gaping in the centre of the quad, watching the sway of your hips and the click of your shoes on the pavement as you leave him behind.
You choose to ignore the bubble of anxiety it puts in the pit of your stomach all day. Your lectures help to distract you at least somewhat from the reality that your former...you're not even sure what to call him...something, is present and working at the same university as you and you briefly wonder if it isn't too late to go back to your job at Oxford. You're sure Professor Haylett would let you come back, you might need to grovel a bit but...perhaps that was preferable to the potential mess that was being in close proximity to Henry again.
The last time you'd see each other, he'd been a 27 year old Archaeology professor. Young, dashing, charming, with every student at the University of London eager to please him and hoping the American would give them extra attention. You had been a 23 year old History PhD student, one of the few women allowed to do so, after much hard graft and determination. You had refused to let anything or anyone distract you from your studies, from your goal...and then you'd been told that he could help you with your PhD, that he had some specific knowledge on the Battle of Syracuse that you could use and...you'd found yourself suitably distracted. You would be being bitter and unfair if you didn't admit that in the year you'd known him he'd helped you with your thesis immensely...but he'd also put your reptuation at risk, broken your heart and made promises that he never would fulfil. Your mother was right...romance was certainly a tricky business.
You're so frazzled at the end of the day that you don't even recognise that your office has the lights on, if you had, you would have stopped before entering, instead you bulldozer your way in and stumble at the sight of him sat in a chair waiting paitently as if he wasn't phased one bit by your reappearance in his life.
"So, Honey Bee, you gonna tell me why I get such a frosty reception?"
"Yo-The absolute...I cannot...ugh!" You find yourself unable to stutter out a complete sentence as you slam the door shut, it reverberating on its hinges. "You have some nerve, Henry Jones! As if you don't bloody know!" You storm around him, putting the hard wood desk between the two of you and shuffling papers to keep from looking at him knowing he'd melt your anger in a second just with a smile.
He always had the most ridiculous ability to placate you and you wanted to feel angry today, not soothed like a skittish horse or malcontent cat.
"Sweetheart, if I knew I wouldn't have asked!" It's the silky smoothness giving away to frustration that causes you to look up, your bottom lip shuddering under the weight of the sadness that sits in your chest, old feelings that you thought you'd processed and put to bed coming to the surface.
"You promised..." He's silent, confusion deepening as you take a deep breath and begin to pace back and forth behind your desk, agitation growing with each movement. "You promised to write me, to call or send a telegram and you never did. I...I waited to hear from you and I heard nothing. So I am dreadfully sorry, Henry, if I do not feel particularly like pleasentries or intimiate nicknames in front of an entire cohort of students! I have had to earn my place and I am still fighting for respect and no man, one who doesn't even honor his promises, is going to ruin this for me!"
You are breathing heavily, body warm, shoulders rising and falling with every agitated movement of your lungs as he looks down at his lap. Silence falls between you for so long that you turn to look out the window of your office, at the street lamps with their warm glow, the last few students wandering across campus as evening sets in.
"I did...I wrote you." His voice is low, quiet, the sort of quiet that Henry Jones never was, so quiet in fact that you turn to check he actually spoke.
"I wrote every day for three months...half of it was stupid, five lines about my day or a single sentence to say hello. I wrote for three months, sweetheart."
"Three months?"
"Three."
"But, I never...how...if you wrote for three months then how on earth did I not receive a single one!" You're unsure if you believe him, at the same time you never knew Henry to be a liar and it...it boggles your mind. There's an impending sense of your world teetering on it's axis, emotional whiplash as you feel a soaring sense of hope, yet a feeling of disbelief, fear, all rolled into one.
"I don't know, honey, but I wrote for three months to 21 Hanover Street and you never wrote me back so I assumed...I assumed you'd moved on, found yourself a nice, sensible husband and gotten married!" There's an anger that you'd never noticed til now, a sense that he'd been hurt to, that he'd felt like you'd abandoned him. So far removed from the debonair, rakish persona he so often displayed.
"21 Hanover Street? You wrote to 21 Hanover Street?"
"Yes, goddamn it!"
"Henry...I lived at 12 Hanover Street."
"What?"
"I lived at number 12, one two, not two one. 12!" It is so absolutely absurd that you can't help but start laugh rather hysterically. That you felt abanonded all these years, angry, resentful, heartbroken and he'd simply gotten the wrong house number, a stupid, ridiculous mistake that had broken your heart into pieces, only to reforge it again.
"You're telling me that for three months I was writing to the wrong address...?" Henry is out of his chair, rounding the table and closing the distance between you so fast that it makes your head spin...or perhaps that is the effect of the emotional journey you're currently experiencing.
"I'm afraid so..."
"Goddamn it...well, shit, honey..." There's a pregnant pause as your eyes scan his profile, the frustrated set of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the familiar bend of his nose. He's not changed, not really. He's older, more lines around his eyes than last you remember, and a few more grey hairs, but then you're older too. Your first grey hairs finally settling in, the soft baby fat of your face having melted away somewhat over the years. But, he's still Henry and you're still the busy Honey Bee he used to chase around the library to the chagrin of the librarian. Things haven't really changed, you realise. With the removal of the one point of hurt between you, you can acknowledge that you still love him without the weight of anger or heartbreak pushing it down.
"Henry?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"Kiss me." It makes you laugh against his mouth how quickly he follows your request, the scrape of his stubble against your skin an old, familiar sensation that you'd all but forgot. It was like coming home, so familiar that it sent a sharp stabbing sense of yearning into your chest even as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him.
The woodsy smell of his cologne surrounds you, the familiar tweed of his suit jacket scratches your arms, the soft strands of his hair through your fingers, the press of his nose against your cheek. It's like there hasn't been five years since you last kissed, like you hadn't been so angry with him up until five minutes ago that it hurt.
God, and to think, you'd nearly gone your entire life thinking he'd never cared. All because he'd mixed up two simple numbers.
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squeakadeeks · 1 year
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Op i didnt see this till literally this morning but dont mind if i do hop on the Fall for costume prompts, day 1: introduction
My name is Squeaks and I'm a hobbyist cosplayer who makes things in the fractional fleeting moments of spare time I have while crunching out a physics PhD. I'm a huge fan of fire emblem, houseki no kuni, hades, trigun, cookie run, and adventure time. As you might be able to tell from my above work, its dang near impossible for me to recreate a character as is. I'm incredibly prone to adapting canon character designs into more costume-focused styles!
My favorite thing about cosplay is how enriching and novel it is, cosplay encompases so many different crafting styles and each character brings new, fresh experiences from color palettes, fabric textures, garment construction, and so on.
These days I dont attend cons or photoshoots (see above; being a grad student is literal hell) so most of my content is me just standing in my house BUT i try my best to get goofy with it and still present my work in fun ways!
Phos photography by Pedxing
Hypnos, Lif, and Robin photography by Dr. Cosplay Photography
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drdemonprince · 8 months
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Hi Devon,
I'm a recent grad planning to apply to psych PhD programs in the fall with the plan to pursue a career academia (despite how much I know it'll suck I've thought long and hard about it and truly don't think I would be as fulfilled doing anything else). My research experience has been in cognitive development and I keep on being drawn to questions about autism. I am Autistic myself and pretty much think the way we have historically thought about cognitive abilities in autism is garbage. I want to pursue my questions but am honestly terrified about trying to fight my way through the current status quo in autism research.
You're one of very few people I know of in the realm of academia with views on autism that I actually agree with and respect, so I would love your thoughts. Is there hope for actually Autistic individuals pursuing research into autism? Are there any researchers who you've seen building community with Autistic people and listening to Autistic voices? Do you have any advice for surviving in the field as an Autistic person?
Anything you can say to these questions would be much appreciated, thank you!
I'm the type to be brutally honest rather than uplifting and encouraging, so you know, take that into account when adjusting for the skew of my answers.
Any time a person reaches out to me seeking advice on pursuing a graduate degree in psychology of any kind, I advise them against it for the most part. The field desperately needs more research conducted by Autistic people, for Autistic people (and other neurodivergent groups) but I have never known a graduate program to be anything but extremely abusive, exploitative, ableist, and ill-suited to preparing a graduate student today for the reality of academic life as it now is. These mfers are playing by a rulebook that was tired in the 1980s and its downright detached from reality today. My graduate experience was so traumatic and disillusioning that I chose to abandon academic research or any hope of having a tenure track career altogether. Everyone that I know was either completely abused and traumatized by their advisor, or pod personed by them and transformed into exactly the kind of passive aggressive liberal manipulative ghoul that had once mistreated them. Graduate study ravaged my health and my self-concept.
Is there hope for actually Autistic individuals pursuing research into Autism? Well, there is a growing body of research by us and for us. Journals like Autism in Adulthood do give me hope, and help nourish me intellectually and improve my work.
Are there any researchers whom I've seen building community with Autistic people and listening to Autistic voices? All the ones that I've seen actually operating in practice use methods of communication and workflows that are profoundly inaccessible and harmful to us, even if they are incredibly well intentioned and open to the idea of neurodiversity. There is a lot of decent research coming out these days finally, but I don't know how all of that sausage gets made.
Do I have any advice for surviving in the field as an Autistic person? Make sure you have a very robust support system that exists completely independently from academia. Make sure you have a complete and rich life that has nothing to do with academics and do not give up even a SHRED of it, even if it means accomplishing less and taking more time while you are in school. Have hobbies, friends and loved ones you see daily, a spiritual or physical practice that helps you offload stress, vacations or little adventures within your community that renew you, and work that is applied and grounded rather than just basic/theoretical research. (especially needed if you're in cognitive psych land. shit gets so fuckin abstact and divorced from reality).
Read a lot of fiction or practice some art or do something creative that has nothing to do with your graduate studies. Do not sign up for meaningless committees. Poster presentations do not matter and don't help your CV much at all. Most committees don't either. Read the book The Professor Is In and the blog that goes along with it religiously. Do not trust your advisor. Do not expect your dissertation to be perfect and do not make it your most ambitious project, focus on making it something you can get done quickly that is just "good enough." Cultivate skills that will be useful outside of academia. Do not assume you will ever get an academic job. Read the statistics on how many PhDs there are relative to how many professorships. Speak to people who work outside of academia who have the credentials you are getting. Know how to market yourself and get a job outside of academia if you have to -- consulting especially may be a good fit if you are Autistic and not suited for a 9 to 5 in an office.
Grill any potential advisor at any program you are considered for, hard. if they are defensive being asked questions about their working style, their leadership style, their former students, etc, that means they do not like ever being challenged and that is a red flag. Ask to speak to *FORMER* students. Not current ones. Current ones will not feel safe being honest. Ask for job placement data for graduates of their lab. Look up reviews. Do not pay for graduate school, only apply to fully funded programs otherwise they are scamming you. Remember you can leave at any time. good luck.
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