#im a star nerd

[starmaker-astral]

Good Omens made my obsession with stars worse, and now I'm looking for a telescope......My banker already hates me

(Now watch me buy a ~600€ Skywatcher Telescope around january because im a crazy girl with a lovely hyperfixation)

[redcallisto]

A really big post of just my star rail doodles (more below)

[koiukiy-o]

orphic; (adj.) mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding. ─── 008 (II). the disquiet.

-> summary: when you, a final-year student at the grove, get assigned to study under anaxagoras—one of the legendary seven sages—you know things are about to get interesting. but as the weeks go by, the line between correlation and causation starts to blur, and the more time you spend with professor anaxagoras, the more drawn to him you become in ways you never expected. the rules of the academy are clear, and the risks are an unfortunate possibility, but curiosity is a dangerous thing. and maybe, just maybe, some risks are worth taking. after all, isn’t every great discovery just a leap of faith? -> pairing: anaxa x gn!reader. -> tropes: professor x student, slow burn, forbidden romance. -> wc: 1.2k -> warnings: potential hsr spoilers from TB mission: "Light Slips the Gate, Shadow Greets the Throne" (3.1 update). main character is written to be 21+ years of age, at the very least. (anaxa is written to be around 26-27 years of age.) swearing, mature themes, suggestive content.

-> a/n: um... surprise anaxa pov? mini update once again bc i couldnt help myself. hes a loser and i have no self control i fear... welcome home professor and fuck you very much for ruining my LIFE. i hope you guys like it! <3 next update NOT coming soon bc its going to need a LOT OF RESEARCH !! but it will come, hehe. -> prev. || next. -> orphic; the masterlist.

Anaxagoras sits unnaturally still, save for the occasional, minute twitch of his finger against the trackpad. The inbox is open again—has been, for the last thirty-seven minutes. He’s refreshed it thirteen times. Fourteen. He does not look at the time.

The email remains unread.

No reply.

Of course not.

He closes the tab. Opens another. Reopens the inbox. As if that would change the outcome.

He leans back, then forward, spine stiff and aching with tension he refuses to acknowledge. His other hand flexes once against the armrest, fingers curling in tight, rhythmic spasms. He imagines, absurdly, that he can will the message into existence by the precise calibration of his breathing: inhale, two beats, exhale, one. Inhale. Exhale.

Footsteps behind him. Soft. Familiar. The cadence of someone who does not knock.

“I thought you only hovered when you were revising a grant proposal,” says a voice, dry as old paper.

Cerces.

Anaxagoras doesn’t turn. “You’re early.”

She shrugs. He hears it in her voice. “You’re transparent.”

He ignores that. She crosses the office anyway, folds herself into the spare chair without invitation, like she’s amused by how much it bothers him.

“You know,” she says, glancing toward the screen, “for someone who claims to detest inefficiency, you’re wasting an awful lot of neural bandwidth watching that inbox not blink.”

He keeps his tone level. “I’m waiting for a reply.”

“Oh, I gathered.” Her smile is all teeth. “From the little prodigy, yes?”

“Pathetic,” she says lightly. “You’ve hit refresh so many times, the poor thing’s going to short-circuit.”

“I’m expecting–”

Cerces glides in, unimpressed. “You’re brooding. Badly. Honestly, it’s unbecoming. You usually pace.”

Cerces taps her nail idly against the edge of the desk. “Sent them my paper on subjective structure, did you?” She lifts a brow. “Bold.”

“It was relevant.”

“To their project, or to you?” she asks, with mock-innocence. “Can’t tell anymore. You sent out less reading than usual this term. Except to them.”

Anaxagoras does not dignify that with a response.

Cerces hums, leaning back in the chair like a cat preparing to nap on his thesis notes. “No wonder you’ve been unbearable all day,” she muses. He closes the inbox.

Cerces, satisfied, stands. “Just admit it’s getting to you.”

“It isn’t.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely getting to you.” She adjusts her coat. “You know what I think? I think you’ve finally found a student who doesn’t need your approval to be brilliant, and it’s making you—” she lifts a hand, gesturing vaguely at his expression—“like this.”

She’s halfway to the door when she adds, lightly: “It’d be romantic, if it weren’t so predictable.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

Anaxagoras stares at the inbox again.

Then he clicks refresh.

Just once more.

Anaxagoras locked the door behind him with a muted click, the old brass deadbolt sliding home with a satisfying weight. He stood there for a moment, coat still draped over one arm, his keys resting loosely in his hand.

The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft, residual glow filtering in from the streetlights outside. Dromas stirred from her place on the windowsill, her feline silhouette stretching languidly, but didn’t bother to cross the room to greet him. She knew his rhythms too well to expect anything different tonight.

He exhaled, low and measured, setting his folio and coat onto the small entry table. His movements were deliberate—almost mechanical. He loosened his cuffs, folded them back neatly, crossed the room to the kitchen only to stop halfway there, hands half-lifted in the faint, aborted gesture of making tea he didn’t really want.

Instead, he turned, leaning back against the counter’s edge, arms crossing over his chest as he stared into the middle distance.

It should have been a straightforward afternoon.

He had predicted the conversation. He had anticipated the questions—sharp, incisive, urgent in a way most students couldn’t muster even on their best days. He had even foreseen the almost inevitable moment when he would have to reveal that he had submitted the symposium application on your behalf weeks ago.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the look you gave him.

Not gratitude—that would have been easier to dismiss. Gratitude was impersonal, clean, academic. He could have tucked it neatly away with every other minor debt and favor exchanged in the endless currency of university life.

No—what unsettled him was that you had looked at him as if you understood. The warmth of it, the raw, unguarded recognition—it lodged under his ribs like a splinter.

Anaxagoras dragged a hand through his hair, the gesture more frustrated than he would have allowed anyone to see.

It wasn’t improper.

It wasn’t wrong.

You were brilliant—deserving. Your mind had already begun to unfurl in ways that few others' ever could. It would have been criminal not to give you the chance to sit in that room with Cerces and the others, to sharpen yourself against the brightest, most dangerous minds the field had ever produced.

And yet—

He pushed off the counter sharply, crossing the room to the bookshelf by the window. His fingers skimmed across the worn spines without truly reading any of the titles.

And yet there was an edge to it he could not name—a precarious, almost gravitational pull that had nothing to do with academics.

He had always prided himself on his ability to compartmentalize. To categorize attachments neatly away from the crisp structures of logic and methodology he demanded of his work.

But when you had stood across from him this afternoon, tablet still glowing faintly in your hands, passion and ambition thrumming just beneath the surface of your carefully controlled demeanor—

He had wanted.

Not just to teach.

Not just to challenge.

He wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t hold back. If you let that mind—the one so few even recognized as extraordinary—unfurl without apology or restraint.

To watch you unmask the depths of yourself, raw and unfiltered, free from the weight of expectation. He longed to see you, not as the student you so often hid behind, but as the person you were when you let go of the barriers you had so carefully constructed. He wasn’t just waiting to be impressed—he wanted to be seen by you, to be part of that unfolding, as if by witnessing it, he could catch a glimpse of something he had only dared to touch in the quiet spaces of his own soul.

He closed his eyes briefly, jaw tightening.

Cowardice isn’t always irrational.

Cerces' words. He understood them now, in a way he hadn’t when she first said them years ago, with that half-smile and a glint in her eye that hinted at the ruins she was quietly accepting.

If he was careful, this would pass. The symposium would come and go. You would find larger horizons to chase. That was the plan. That was the only rational outcome.

Dromas jumped down from the sill, padding over to rub herself against his leg. He bent down, absently running a hand along her back. She purred once, low and approving.

"You," he said softly, as if the cat could understand the accusation laced into the word, "have far fewer complications."

-> next.

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[butchvaderkin]

Anakin Skywalker + Cúchulainn, the Hound of Ulster from Táin Bó Cuailnge // The Cattle Raid of Cooley

Sources: The Cuchullan Saga in Irish Literature, ed. Eleanor Hull (1898). The Ancient Irish Epic Tale Táin Bó Cúalnge, trans. Joseph Dunn (1914). The Tain, trans. Thomas Kinsella (1969).

Art: "Cuchulain in Battle" by J. C. Leyendecker Photo of Emain Macha, ancient seat of Ulster, Armagh, N. Ireland "Cuchulain Desires Arms of the King" by Stephen Reid "Setanta Slays the Hound of Culain" by Stephen Reid "Cúchulainn rebuked by Emer" by H. R. Millar Original brush painting for The Tain by Louis Le Brocquy image descriptions and more info in alt captions

[springheatedwine]

Ratio with a halovian lover? Like he enjoys preening their wings and hearing them coo like a bird(I just like to put bird attitude on halovians lmao)

//first off... I'm such a dumbass cuz I thought you wanted a halovian ratio I CANT READ I CANT 😭😭😭 but uh I hope you like this...

[stardatez3ro]

i love that star trek has so many autistic characters that theyve got the whole fucking spectrum in there .on a scale from worf, odo, spock, data, julian, deanna and wesley to picard what type of 'tism do YOU have ?

[dustykneed]

not a SINGLE day goes by where i don't think about that post with the photo of andrew's death grip on alex's waist. you know the one

(i have, regrettably, once again, lost the damn post. if anyone has any clue as to its whereabouts i would be much obliged if you could drop the link lol. but at the very least i had the presence of mind to download the photo so here yall go xDD:

[stardecahedron]

Ooh Madame Odile i looovvve youuuuu.... (/▽＼)

Do yall have any idea how scared i was to draw her? i was worried id draw her wonky but god she came out so cute... anything for the best woman ever...... (❤ ω ❤)

been doing messier lines lately and im liking them! :) i hope yall are having a happy holidays!

kofi // instagram // artfight // bluesky

[liquidatorbruntfca]

while glaringly obvious plot holes, chasms in logic and painfully missed opportunities are inevitable in any long-running series/franchise, the one star trek plot hole that has kept me up at night more than any other, the one that with each episode, twists the knife further and further, is the fact that Captain Kathryn Janeway did not come up through engineering. like HUH???

i’m only halfway through season 2 and very rarely does an episode go by where Janeway doesn’t find an excuse to make her way to engineering. the second something goes wrong with the ship that woman is SPRINTING to see what’s going on with her own two eyes (and usually her hands too). like in S1 E1 of Voyager, they get flung 70,000 light years from home, and one of the first things she does is run to engineering.

i know i know, she was a science officer, something something captains need to be proficient in all domains aboard a starship, yada yada - yes, Janeway has a reputation for going above and beyond when it comes to knowing her shit, but her level of comfort and familiarity with engineering, her ability (and desire) to run around, ask questions, complete tasks and essentially function as a regular member of the engineering crew indicates to me more than just ‘she’s smart’ (see: “Warp Particles!”)

TLDR: Kathryn Janeway was, is, and always will be an engineering girlie to me and i will die on this hill

[urban-witch101]

Love how Isabeau and Siffrin are just another version of two very smart people walking into the same room and leaving their brain cells at the door to just enjoy each other's company.

[raffa-taff]

I NEVER LOSE GRRAAAAHHHHHHHHHH Steven universe real guys…. It’s fucking real

[batfam-is-a-feeling]

. . . Do you think Jason write dumb vampire stories that are like super famous in wattpad??

Like everything it stars like a joke. A dumb romance novel of a vampire in a relationship with a colleague student and with all the tropes of a vampire novel but managed to be a healthy and beautiful relationship.

It star when he was like 12 (because all the nerds writers star write at 12 in wattpad) then he suffers of the wattpad/ao3 curse (and dies) and when everyone is losing hopes he actually update his story.

Tim and Damian are fans of the book (they don't know is Jason book) because Tim follow the book since his first chapter, and later, he introduced the book to Damian as a joke but ended up been something that both enjoyed.

[butchtateandtackle]

in university, ford introduced fiddleford to star trek properly. fiddleford had watched some of the show before, but rather sporadically, given he didn't really have a TV at home and got his entertainment through making little robot guys. however, he became a big fan very quickly. he and ford made the trekkie club in uni. (subsequently, they were the only two members.)

[niserieblackbeak]

oh save me, 25+ years old nerd guy who loves deep conversations and staying awake at night to play games or movie marathons and loves animals and is romantic and has a hyperfixation on things i will never understand but he is willing to explain in a softest manner while im cooking dinner for us and listen music and and

[spongelll]

saw this insta post a few days ago and I've been thinking about it ever since, so I took it upon myself to do some extensive research

did I go a tad overboard... perhaps.

did I go insane scouring for parallels... 100%.

you are welcome <3

[doctordoombignaturals]