#it's more to train for logical questions in interviews

[tired-and-unjellied]

I got a daily enigma calendar for chrismas

I opened it once on the january 8th, then never opened it again

life sucks 😩 (/j)

[razorblade180]

For a lifetime

Hu Tao:You’re thinking about proposing to Ke- *mouth covered*

Aether:Shhhh! Don’t yell so loudly. Yes, I am. *removes hand* I was hoping you can tell me about proposals in Liyue.

Hu Tao:Aww, how sweet. I could but…this feels more like Zhongli’s expertise. Why ask a funeral director of all people for wedding advice?

Aether:Because you’re unorthodox and Keqing is many ways is unconventional. A modern can bring a modern perspective.

Hu Tao:Ooo I like the logic, though it’s really not that complex of a situation. This may be the new age of mortals but as you know, Liyue revels in lots of traditional practices. Many people still offer gifts between the two families as a proposal, or a special tea ceremony.

Aether:Any jewelry?

Hu Tao:Certain cuts of gold carved into betrothal symbols or in some cases, unique pieces. They could be earrings, a specific necklace ornament, hair piece, rings are gaining popularity. Keqing is on the move so I’d recommend something that doesn’t get in the way.

Aether:Hmmm. I see.

Hu Tao:Hehe, I think you’re overthinking things. I’m positive she’d like whatever you did.

Aether:Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. I’ve read a little about those ceremonies, but it’s not like I have a household or parents.

Hu Tao:Hmm, that is true. Now that you mention it, Keqing’s family members are few and far between.

Aether:..What would you want?

Hu Tao:Huh? Me?

Aether:Yeah. We’re in a bit of similar situation. The member of your household is you, but you’re fond of traditions when it calls for them. How would you handle a tea ceremony?

Hu Tao:Oh, I wouldn’t. Same with the gift exchange. It’s not all that necessary in my case. Even if my grandpa and dad were around, I probably wouldn’t want such a grand fuss; even I get embarrassed. Though I might go through with it to see their eyes water with joy.

Aether:That sounds about right.

Hu Tao:Haha! What can I say? You’re right about me being unorthodox. *rubs chin* A proposal fit for me isn’t as crazy as you might be assuming. Honestly…*smiles gently* If I were to dream for a moment, all I would really want would be…

xxxxxxxx

At the top of Mt. Aocang, Chongyun revels in the crisp night air against his skin as he meditates near Cloud Retainers abode, striving for a strong and balanced connection with himself to become a better exor-

Hu Tao:Chongyun!!! Yooohooo! Are you here~

Chongyun:…*opens eyes*

Hu Tao:*slides into view* Aha! Found you. Training with your aunt again?

Chongyun:We finished a while ago. I was calming down more than anything. Something wrong?

Hu Tao:Nope! I have a secret I must share with at least one person or else I’ll explode! Xiangling folds under pressure and Xingqui isn’t as subtle as he pretends to be. That leave my ever reliable exorcist.

Chongyun:Is Zhongli getting married?

Hu Tao:Nope! But Aether is gonna propose to Keqing!

Chongyun:He- wow I was kinda close. Hope it goes well. *stands up* Hold on. Let me get my hood and belongings inside the abode, then we can walk while we talk. *walks away*

Hu Tao:An excellent idea! I’ll even throw in a dinner. Remember, tell no one! You should’ve seen him! He looked so nervous asking questions!

Chongyun:He asked you for wedding advice?

Hu Tao:Pfft, okay. I get why it’s weird but you don’t have to ask surprised. *looks at the water* He was looking for an unconventional touch. *sits down*

Chongyun:What was your unconventional answer?

Hu Tao:I told him to schedule an interview to be her assistant! She’d be so confused but it’ll allow time where she’s technically free. Instead of a résumé’ for office qualifications, it’s for a husband! Knowing her sense of humor, Keqing will smile ear to ear!

Chongyun:…

Hu Tao:*turns head* Hey, I can’t see you but I know judgment when it’s happening.

Chongyun:You really one of a kind. That’s all.

Hu Tao: We both know Keqing doesn’t do vacations and is incredibly smart. You got to catch her by surprise!

Chongyun:Should I be taking notes?

Hu Tao:Ha! You could try, but wouldn’t that be a little obvious in my case? You’re so routine I knew where to find you. If you switch up, I’d notice.

Chongyun:Yeah I guess it would be a little difficult getting the right flowers under your nose.

Hu Tao:Exactly! Wait, flowers? How did you-

Her question was interrupted as Chongyun walked out fully dressed and blushing as he held holding a large bouquet of Glaze Lilies mixed with Spider Lilies. Hu Tao immediately stands up, speechless as a thousand thoughts show on her face with half smiles and eyes unsure to settle on shock or tears while her heart suddenly felt loud.

Chongyun:Y’know when Aether came back and told, I couldn’t help but want to kick myself a little. Not only is this so obviously you, these flowers perfectly describe my feelings towards you.

Hu Tao:*twirls thumbs* I uhhh. A-Aether isn’t proposing to Keqing, is he?

Chongyun:No, at least not tonight if anything. Me however… Hu Tao, these flowers say it best. I love you to the end, and want a lifetime of memories with you. All the ones we already have, they make it all but impossible to only say “we’re dating” or “my girlfriend.” You’re so much more than that for me. We don’t have to rush to the official day, but if you feel like I do, will you let me be all yours? Can I call you my-

Wings fluttered around him; the family warmth of fluttering butterflies graced his presence while warm lips pressed against his. Shaky, but loving hands took the flowers before wrapping around his body. As Hu Tao leaned deeper into her answer, Chongyun could feel her tears kiss his face. When she was satisfied with the kiss, he saw the biggest and most beautiful eyes overflowing.

Hu Tao:Looks like I’ve rubbed off on you, hehe. Chongyun, this is…are you sure? Latern Rite was a good example of how crazy things can get with me.

Chongyun:Things have always been crazy with you. Hasn’t stopped me before. *holds her closer* You’re stuck with me.

His forehead pressed gently against her own, making her heart swell and lips lean in for another kiss. Hu Tao didn’t like to admit it, but she had forgotten the possibility of once again being apart of a family bigger than herself long ago. Now here was this boy she teased about his job, now asking her to be in the family tree. A household bigger than herself. It was terrifying, yet such a relief deep down. He didn’t want to leave her alone, and that dispelled more negativity than any rite or yang energy ever could.

Hu Tao: Hehehe.

Chongyun:What’s so funny?

Hu Tao:It’s just that knowing you, you’ve put so much thought into this that I bet there’s something you didn’t consider. Did you tell your parents you were doing this?

Chongyun:…I mean they love completely. What’s one less tea ceremony?

Hu Tao:Oh boy. You truly are a perfect mess. My adorable fiancé. Yes, the answer is yes.

She watched his eyes light up before spinning her. Chongyun pulled out a small present from his inner pocket. It was too long be a ring box. Instead, it opened to be a golden version of the blossoms on her cherished hat.

Hu Tao:There’s no way you got this made today!

Chongyun:Correct. It’s one of the few things I was certain about. You like your rings and I didn’t want to mess with that or add something you weren’t used to.

Hu Tao:I would’ve replaced a ring in a heartbeat. As you can see, unorthodox clearly doesn’t mean I’m no romantic.

Chongyun:May I do the honors?

Hu Tao nodded eagerly before keeping her head low enough for him to place the ornament. She couldn’t help but go over to the water and admire the new addition to her cherished gift. Eyes began watering again and her giggles slipped out easily. The moment Chongyun joined her at the pond, Hu Tao jumped right back into his arms with fever joy that brought laughter to both of them.

Shenhe:*behind a tree* It appears things turned out rather well. That’s good. I fear offering emotional support for this would be beyond me; even with your help. Good job on the breeze, master.

Xianyun:*sniffling*

Shenhe:Master?

Xianyun:Look away Shenhe! One does not wish to be seen like this! *covers face*

xxxxxx

Aether:*sipping tea*

Keqing:Sorry I’m a little late! * sits down* Work got a little busy as usual.

Aether:Your fine. Food is on its way. I ordered your favorite.

Keqing:Thanks. So, anything crazy happen today?

Aether:*smiles* Nah, not really. You know me, always helping around.

[planetkiimchi]

sixth time's the charm | w.jh

no. 1 of my 100 followers event (requested)

featuring: coworker!jun x gn!reader

word count: 8832 words

summary — your coworker jun is naturally friendly and a little chaotic, but he also mistakenly thinks you like his crush. this love rivalry persists despite the two of you being friends, at least until he realises that the one he likes is you.

author’s note: thank you to @fairyhaos for beta-ing this, your comments are so appreciated. especially knowing now that you have such high standards for fics, i’m so honoured to receive any sort of compliment from you <3 thank you ara for the request and i hope you enjoy!

Your first day of work was in January, at the tail end of winter. People were trading their thick winter coats for thinner wool sweaters and cotton hoodies, slowly switching back to sneakers instead of the chunky boots they donned in the winter.

The temperature was still cold in the mornings, especially when people were heading to work. The streets were filled with people walking briskly, as staying idle for too long would let the chill seep into one’s bones.

You were no different, a long coat wrapped tightly around your work attire, the most formal you could get. You cracked your knuckles nervously as you came to a hesitant stop in front of an office building, indistinguishable from the surrounding buildings save for the large “JH Corporations” displayed across the front.

Inhaling deeply, you stepped inside.

You were greeted by the warm air of the heated building, and you took in your surroundings as subtly as you could, taking small steps towards the reception desk while your gaze wandered about.

Everyone there seemed to be in a hurry, impatiently bustling past with briefcases, holding onto their laptop cases and thick folders. The constant clicking sound of high heels against the floor seemed to match your heart rate, going tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

You made your way over to the reception desk.

“Good morning!” A cheery voice broke your train of thought, interrupting your anxiously racing thoughts and preventing you from spiralling.

Turning around to face the owner of the voice, you came face to face with a familiar face.

“Wen Junhui?”

The man in question grinned back at you. “Hi!”

So it was him. Junhui—”Call me Jun,” he’d said—had been there at your job interview, which had been done in a group, so both of you were probably starting at a similar level. Logically speaking, that day should also be his first day at work. However, unlike you, he looked a lot more at ease in this large building.

“Excuse me?” The receptionist tried to get your attention, and you blinked quickly before nodding.

“Yes, hi.”

You gave her your name and waited as she searched for your employee pass, before handing it to you, along with directions on how to get to your level.

You thanked her and turned to leave.

“I’m going to level three too, would you like me to show you there?”

Your heart, which had been beating painfully fast ever since you stepped foot into the building, slowed to a reasonable pace as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. Then, turning to face Jun, you smiled slightly.

“That would be great.”

Jun didn’t shut up the entire way to your desk. He looked tidy and well-kept, brown hair parted slightly off-centre, a tie around his neck. His smart black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked, and you noticed his fingernails were trimmed when he reached out to press the lift button.

“Y/n, right?” You nodded absently as Jun talked about this job, how his boss was rather friendly and how excited he was to be able to work in this team setting. Everyone was welcoming so far, and no one had belittled him as of yet.

During the elevator ride, you didn’t manage to get a single word in. Jun just kept on talking, somehow finding ways to fill the silence without you having to say a single thing. When he finally took a breath, you seized the opportunity to ask, “When did you start?”

“Last week! They asked me to come at the beginning of the new year, but I requested to start a week earlier instead, just after the winter solstice, so I could get acquainted a little earlier.”

Oh. That made sense. You briefly wondered why you hadn’t thought to do that yourself, stepping out of the elevator as the door opened onto the third floor.

You followed Jun through what felt like a winding maze of desks, all grey with some attempts at personalisation in the form of white mugs with “I ❤️ DAD” and “This is my fifth cup of coffee” printed across them, and cushions propped up on chairs for comfort.

“... And here’s your desk! Mine’s right across, so you can come over and ask me for help at any time. Just wave, and I’ll come over!” Jun smiled at you expectantly.

“Thanks?” you replied hesitantly.

“No problem!”

Smiling cheerily at you, Jun walked over and took a seat at his desk.

Breathe. You inhaled deeply, taking in your surroundings once more. This time, it felt a lot less scary. Each team had a semi-secluded area, with partitions sectioning off different teams, and your section was a little quiet but very conducive for working in.

The other people in the office had looked up briefly when you walked in, disrupted by Jun’s voice, waving politely at you before looking back down at their computers.

It didn’t seem like much, but you weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting in the first place. Setting your things down, you went over to find your team manager so you could officially start working.

—

Time passed too quickly. Soon enough, the project that the team had just undertaken was already almost half completed, and your working hours grew longer as the daylight stretched longer as well.

The sun set just after six, and you often got off work before then, so you would be home in time for dinner. Upon graduating from university, one of the first things you’d done was rent a house on the outskirts of the central business district.

It wasn’t the cheapest option, but luck was on your side, and the marketing job you had secured was enough to pay your rent.

Life wasn’t particularly luxurious; your flat was small and your meals were simple, but it was comfortable enough. On top of that, your transport fees were lower, since the office was located very close to where you lived.

That day, you were staying in the office a bit longer, staring blankly at the design drawn up on your computer and trying to figure out exactly what was off about it.

There was something about the design that didn’t work, and you intuitively knew that it had to do with the layout and the contrast in the colours of the background and the elements, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

As the graphic designer on the marketing team, your workload was manageable, so this was your first time staying in the office past your stipulated working hours.

You rolled your neck around, hearing it crack, and fought the urge to rub your eyes. You turned the computer off and got up from your seat to take a bathroom break.

When you returned, there was a box of fried rice next to your keyboard.

Picking the box up, you looked around the section to see who had gotten the food. There were three people in the team still present; besides you and Jun, Yueyue was also working overtime that evening.

Yueyue had a reusable lunchbox by her side, and she took a mouthful of noodles into her mouth every once in a while, in between typing furiously on her keyboard.

Her clicks and the sound of her slurping the noodles were the only things disrupting the silence.

Jun was sitting directly opposite you, and he too had an open lunchbox beside him, along with a spoon, and he shovelled rice into his mouth every ten seconds or so. It was a bit strange that both of them had brought food from home, and yet there was takeout on your desk. It was especially strange because you knew you hadn’t ordered it.

As if sensing your confusion—or perhaps due to the fact that you had been standing in front of him for a good few minutes—Jun looked up.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to sit down soon? You’re kind of putting me off by just standing there.”

Oh. Embarrassed, you hurriedly sat down, but not before leaning over and asking, “Do you know who bought this?”, pointing at your own food.

“I did.” He looked back at his screen for a few moments, typed something out quickly, then moved his chair over so his view of you was no longer blocked by the screen.

“Minghao usually buys us food when we work overtime, but his mother’s health isn’t the best, so he took leave today to visit her in the hospital. Yueyue brings her own food, and I’ve started that habit too, but I noticed you hadn’t eaten so I got you something. I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I don’t. Thanks. I’ll pay you back, how much was it?”

Jun reached over to push your phone away. “It’s on me. Minghao even sent me money earlier on to make sure everyone in the team was fed, look.”

He showed you his screen, as if he felt the need to prove it to you, and you scanned Minghao’s texts.

Minghao (Team Manager): Make sure everyone eats well. Minghao (Team Manager): Tell them to go home before 7, it’s dark and cold outside, don’t want anyone falling sick. Minghao (Team Manager): Oh, also, tell Y/n to send me the draft of the advertisement by tonight. Minghao (Team Manager): Thanks.

“Say thank you to Minghao for me.”

Jun shrugged and put his phone away, “Already did.”

As you ate the fried rice, wrist cramping up from drawing the animations for the advertisement on your tablet, your heart felt extremely warm.

—

Becoming more comfortable with the members in your team also translated to becoming careless, it seemed.

One fine spring day, you awoke at eight-thirty to the sound of your ringtone blaring obnoxiously loudly in your ear.

"Please pick up, please pick up–"

"Hello?" you mumbled, voice a little raspy.

"Y/n! We have a meeting in an hour, where are you?"

Shit. You'd completely forgotten to set your alarm for that morning, having turned it off the day before for the Qingming Festival. You hadn't wanted it to ring while you were visiting the cemetery, which coincided with the time you normally woke up at.

To top it all off, after the long day, you'd had to take a long ride back to your flat from your hometown, which was a long way from Beijing.

You must have been so tired that night that you had forgotten to set your alarm.

"I'm still at home, is Minghao there?"

"Yes, and he's getting ready for the meeting already. He looks a bit pissed, you might want to hurry."

"Shit, yeah, okay. If he starts the meeting early, help me stall or come up with an excuse," you said.

Jun muttered something in acknowledgement.

"I'll hang up first, I've got to get ready and hopefully I'll reach on time."

"Hurry!" was the last word you heard Jun say before you hung up the call.

By some miracle, you ended up reaching the office 5 minutes before the meeting, wisps of hair falling into your eyes. You irritatedly pushed them away, taking the time to catch your breath as you turned your laptop on and tried to pull up your documents.

"Come into the meeting room now," Minghao ordered, and the team filed into the meeting room and took their respective seats.

You glared at the loading screen on your laptop, willing it to work more quickly. As Minghao said something about following the timeline and how the team was lagging behind and the client was beginning to get impatient, you did your best to listen and pull up the designs you'd done over the past couple of weeks.

However, luck was not on your side, because Minghao called upon you to present what you had done the moment he finished speaking.

You stood up hesitantly, eyes scanning your screen in a hurry, breathing still a little uneven. “Well…”

Jun let out a soft snort. You stole a glance at him, just in time to see him rolling his eyes before angling his laptop screen towards you.

“This is our advertisement video.”

Minghao took your cue to start playing the video, and you watched as your hard work came to life before your eyes. You’d watched it so many times, rewinding the animations over and over again until it was perfect, that it was no longer shocking to you how smooth the transitions were.

But seeing the video play in its entirety, not stopping every two seconds for you to fix something, you realised that you’d actually done well.

As the video came to an end, you launched into your spiel behind the technical aspect of the design elements, and Jun nodded attentively from his seat. Satisfied with your presentation, Minghao went on to the next person.

“Junhui, since you’re already prepared, tell us about the rest of the campaign and how you plan to manage the small budget we’re working with for this project.”

When Jun finished, Minghao raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Not bad, the two of you are a real match. Always good at thinking on your feet,” he said softly, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“A good match?” Jun fought to keep his volume down.

“I’m just saying, you’ve never called me when I was late.”

“Hao, when have you ever arrived any later than 8.30am?”

“It’s just a comparison.”

“I-” Jun threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Minghao shrugged and pointed at Jing Xuan, motioning for her to go next. You squinted at your team manager, then back at Jun, trying to figure out what their exchange could possibly have meant.

Yueyue went last, looking for you for help when she couldn’t recall the right word in Mandarin, and a couple of times you had to correct her pronunciation softly. She took it all in her stride, successfully completing her presentation of the segment she was in charge of.

Minghao ended the meeting with a short briefing on the development of the project and the client’s requirements, and gave updated instructions to each individual on the team.

Once he had finished speaking, the meeting was adjourned. Without hesitation, Jun grabbed Minghao’s hand and all but dragged him out of the meeting room, muttering something that sounded like “We seriously need to talk” as he strode away.

Curious, you did your best to subtly close your laptop and place it on your desk, before walking to the coffee lounge in what you hoped was an innocuous manner and casually inching closer towards the duo.

They were speaking in hushed tones, Jun’s brows furrowed and his tone of voice anxious, while Minghao was as relaxed as ever. In times like that, it was difficult to believe that Jun was a year older than Minghao.

You were a couple of years younger than Minghao, but you had changed jobs a few times, just like Jun, so Minghao was more senior than both of you.

However, Jun never really treated Minghao like a senior, although you could tell Minghao definitely treated Jun like a junior.

“What do you mean we’re a good match?” Jun hissed.

“I mean what I said,” Minghao replied, sipping his coffee.

“They like the girl I like, how could we be a good match?”

Too stunned to process Minghao’s reply, your mind blanked out as you heard Jun’s whispered words. In fact, you were lucky the cup in your hand didn’t shatter to the ground with how shocked you were feeling.

He liked Yueyue?

Yueyue’s English name was Luna, and she had joined the team at the same time that spring began. With her limited Mandarin, she struggled to communicate with the others, mostly electing to keep to herself and using Google Translate to send emails.

Having come from Singapore, your English was as good as Yueyue’s, and you were able to communicate effectively in Mandarin after your four years at university.

As such, for the time being, you basically acted as Yueyue’s translator, often helping her with her conversational Mandarin. Yueyue was a fast learner, and though sometimes she struggled with active recall, she was able to understand most conversations now without having to look the words up.

You hadn’t realised Jun liked her, but thinking back on it, you did remember Jun often looking at her while working, casting her glances when he thought no one else was looking. You recalled the way Jun hesitated before speaking to her, as if he had to gather his courage before speaking to her.

At the time, you’d simply thought it was because Jun’s English was extremely subpar, and the same could be said of Yueyue’s Mandarin, but now you knew it was more than that.

Even that time that Jun bought you dinner, you were fairly certain that he had gotten it for Yueyue, because it had come with a post-it note that was coming off the side, saying, “Enjoy your meal :)”. Jun must have been unsuccessful in removing it after he realised that Yueyue had brought her own food.

The puzzle pieces were all clicking in place, and your mouth invariably formed an ‘O’ shape as it all started to make sense.

Minghao elbowed Jun, jerking his head slightly in your direction. “Y/n’s staring.”

“Can you stop it, please, I—” Jun’s voice cut off as he turned to look at you. You were still deep in thought, and your unfocused gaze just happened to be facing Jun’s direction. “Oh.”

Minghao nodded. “Go on.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “And remember what I said.”

Jun glared at him before standing up straight, leaving Minghao leaning against the counter with his mug of forgotten coffee, walking towards you.

He called your name, and you jerked your hand in surprise, spilling coffee on a stunned Jun.

He looked down at his white shirt in shock, frozen to the spot, and you covered your hand with your mouth. You hurriedly set the mug down, grabbing a bunch of tissue paper and pressing it against his shirt to dry it.

“I’m so sorry, you shocked me, I didn’t mean to stain your shirt. You can pass it to me, I’ll wash it, I’m really sorry—”

Jun called your name again, effectively stopping the flow of words that would have otherwise continued to stream from your mouth.

“Stop, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt, I can wash it myself.”

You opened your mouth in protest, and Jun’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “Didn’t know this shirt mattered so much to you. If you want to wash it so badly, I’ll pass it to you after I’ve changed out of it.”

You could only stare in shock at his retreating back as he turned and left, mouth agape. What had Minghao said to him? It felt like the tectonic plates of your dynamics had shifted, but you wouldn’t quite be able to understand it until much, much later.

The first time.

There was a work party coming up, and you originally intended to ask Yueyue to go with you, if not as your date then as your friend.

Lo and behold, just as you opened your mouth to say “Yue”, Jun beat you to it.

“Y/n, would you do me a favour and be my work spouse for a night?” You furrowed your brows at his strange wording, glancing at Yueyue. The latter looked up, caught your eye, and shrugged helplessly.

“No,” you replied flatly. “Yueyue—”

“Pretty please?” Jun latched onto your wrist, tugging onto it like a little child would.

“No!” You pulled your hand away, shaking it in irritation. “Yueyue, will you please—” Before you could finish your sentence, Jun slapped his hand over your mouth, his other hand clutching your wrist again, preventing you from moving away or speaking.

When you finally struggled out of his grasp, you glared at him, beckoning him closer. As he leaned in, you stood on your tiptoes and hissed into his ear, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to go to the party with Yueyue,” he said simply.

“Who I go with is none of your business.”

“Well, both you and Yueyue are my coworkers, so it kind of is.” Then, before you could reply, he said loudly, “Anyway, we’re going together and that’s the end of it. If any of you try to steal my plus-one, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

You whipped your head around to see Yueyue’s reaction, and saw her sinking into her chair, the smile on her face dissipating faster than you could blink. Jing Xuan hid her smile behind her hand, calming herself before removing her hand and continuing to work. Minghao had no visible reaction, but his deliberate ignorance was enough.

You were well and truly alone in this struggle with Jun. You took one glance at your gleeful colleague, sighing in defeat.

—

By the time the work party rolled around, it was already summer. You decided to pack your outfit, leaving it hanging by your desk throughout the workday. Sometime early in the afternoon, Jun got up from his seat, collected the suit he’d hung next to the coffee machine, and glanced at Yueyue.

She was too absorbed in her work to notice. Jun scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you subtly cleared your throat. “Yueyue,” you called softly.

She finally looked up, raising both her eyebrows at you. “Yes?”

You looked pointedly at Jun and jerked your head slightly in his direction. “He’s trying to talk to you.”

“Oh,” she replied, sounding surprised.

Jun smiled hesitantly at Yueyue, “Do you want to go get changed? Then we can take a taxi to the hotel together.” As he spoke, he moved his hands, pointing first at himself, then at Yueyue. His limbs felt longer than they usually seemed, and he looked like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

Before Yueyue could reply, you cleared your throat again, causing both of them to turn towards you.

“Are you not inviting me to hitch a ride?”

Jun’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Then, he and Yueyue spoke at the same time:

“No.”

“Yes.”

The two glanced at each other, and turned back to you.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Jun caved first, hissing in irritation, saying, “Whatever. As long as Yueyue’s fine with it.”

The person in question smiled warmly at you, and nodded in reassurance. “Sure, you can come with us.”

As Yueyue stood up, you locked gazes with Jun, smiling triumphantly at him.

—

The ride there was tense. Not entirely because you’d figuratively shoved your way into the car, although you suspected that might be a big part of the reason. No, for some reason unbeknownst to you, the typically outspoken Jun had turned silent, nervously glancing at Yueyue from time to time.

Seated in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the two behind you from time to time, and yet nothing changed throughout the entire ride.

Jun kept looking down at his hands, playing with his fingers, and Yueyue stared out the window mindlessly.

You debated trying to strike up a conversation, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the taxi came to a halt. Looking out the window, you noticed that the hotel that had been booked for this party was much, much fancier than you had imagined.

The imposing building stood apart from the plain buildings around it, the stairs leading up to the entrance all lit up. The evening had just begun, and the sun was beginning to set, and the lights drew attention to the hotel.

Inwardly, you sighed in relief that you had chosen one of the more elegant items of clothing in your wardrobe to wear that night, because you were sure that being underdressed would have ruined your whole night.

Too caught up in admiring the grandness of the hotel, you didn’t make a move to step out of the car until Jun opened the door for you, and you stepped out. It seemed only natural to take his hand, although the moment your hand was in Jun’s, you realised that it might be overstepping slightly.

Jun’s hand was warm, enveloping your smaller hand in it completely. Yueyue came to stand behind you, amazed by the scale of the event.

“Let’s go in,” Jun suggested, and you nodded dumbly, following him inside.

Seeing Minghao eased everyone’s nerves a little, and soon there was a small congregation of five near the entrance, all keeping a close watch on the rest of your colleagues.

Since you often came to work in a sectioned-off area, and only worked closely with your teammates, you didn’t recognise any of your other colleagues. However, you couldn’t say the same for Jun.

As an elaborately-dressed young man walked past you, Jun seemed to recognise him, waving hello. Minghao could see that Jun was itching to socialise, and urged the rest of you to find people to talk to as well, leaving with a reassuring smile and a pat on your back.

You stuck to Yueyue like glue, the two of you acting like outsiders in this unfamiliar environment that was far out of your comfort zone, until someone Yueyue knew walked by and struck up a conversation with her. Not wishing to be the third wheel, you watched them walk off, standing awkwardly by the side and wishing the time would pass faster.

Fortunately for you, a kind soul noticed you standing on your own and came over, casually asking for your name and which team you were in. The man, Kun, had a warm face and a comforting voice, easily calming you down.

Halfway through a rather engaging conversation about stocks, you felt the need to visit the restroom, and looked around for someone to help you hold your things.

You would have gone to one of your teammates, but Yueyue and Minghao were having a heated discussion with a group of unfamiliar people, and Jing Xuan was nowhere to be found. Of course, there was Jun, but he flitted from group to group without giving you a chance to catch up to him.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, clutching your purse. Before you could leave, Kun reached out and offered to help you hold your things, and you thanked him with an embarrassed smile.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were greeted by an unhappy Jun.

He was standing in the corridor in front of the bathroom, not even on his phone, simply holding your purse and staring at the doorway, waiting for you to emerge. 

You had been expecting to see Kun waiting there, prepared to thank him once more. Instead, the person awaiting you was Jun, and the lack of a smile on his face was disconcerting to say the least.

You couldn’t remember a time you hadn’t seen Jun smile. He had a pleasant disposition and a happy-go-lucky attitude, so seeing him with a poker face was a rare sight.

You reached to take your purse from him without a word, but his grasp on it only tightened as your fingers brushed against his.

“Why didn’t you come find me to help you hold your things?” he asked, volume soft but tone threatening.

You shrugged. “Kun offered to help me before I could go to find you.”

“We’re here together,” Jun insisted. “You’re acting like you hate me.”

You raised your eyebrows, slowly appraising him. “Oh, really? Funny, that’s exactly the same sentiment I received earlier, when you outright refused to let me take the same fucking taxi as you. Is being in my presence such a horrifying thought that you would refuse to take the same car as me after asking me to be your plus-one, deliberately preventing me from getting the date I wanted?”

Stunned, Jun’s grip on your purse loosened, and you shouldered your purse and turned to leave. He grabbed your wrist, and you whipped your head around to glare at him, causing him to immediately let go.

“I’m sorry.”

You stood there, not speaking, but the fact that you weren’t leaving was enough for Jun to continue, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Yes, I wanted to go with Yueyue alone, and yes, I ruined your chance to ask her, and yes, it’s hypocritical of me to expect you to act nicely towards me when I’ve been nothing but an asshole this evening.”

“You left the team first, so anxious to talk to that friend of yours that you didn’t even spare the rest of us a second glance,” you accused.

Jun shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded curtly in acknowledgement, ready to leave, but Jun called out your name before you could take a single step.

“You can join me for the rest of the evening if you want. Since we’re supposed to be together for the night.”

You looked at him slowly, taking in his pose, rocking on his feet, thumbs stashed into his pockets. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and some sadistic part of you felt glad you were making him feel that way.

After a long moment of deliberation, you nodded. “Sure.”

The second time.

Jun introduced you as his work spouse for the rest of the night. The first few times, you raised your eyebrows in shock, meeting his mischievous gaze, and his disarming grin told you to leave it be.

So you did, not even batting an eyelash when he proudly showed you off for the rest of the night, your heated conversation from earlier almost forgotten.

You supposed that was one of his charm points, that he didn’t hold grudges. Jun had a forgiving personality, and it made interacting with him comfortable and easy.

As the night passed, your eyelids started drooping, and it became increasingly difficult to pay attention to the conversation topic at hand. Bidding goodbye to a few of your colleagues, you took some time to stand by the side, hiding your yawn behind your hand.

“Tired?” Jun asked, accompanied by a soft laugh.

You nodded. “I think I’ll head home soon.”

“I’ll send you home.”

You cocked your head at him, then shook your head. “There’s no need, you should stay if you want to.”

At that, Jun scoffed, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not. Besides, it’s not like I would understand what they’re saying without you to translate; their use of technical jargon is way out of my vocabulary range. This entire night, I’ve been piecing together the meaning of their words from your replies.”

You laughed to yourself. “Really?”

Jun nodded. “I’m serious. Anyway, it’s dark outside; you shouldn’t go home alone.”

The corners of your lips lifted, “Didn’t know Wen Junhui was such a gentleman.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You elected to ignore that sentence, turning on your heel to leave, and Jun chased after you, matching your long strides. Outside, you hailed a car, and Jun rushed to open the door for you.

You hesitated just a second before stepping into the car. Earlier that evening, you’d assumed that Jun had opened the door for you out of formality, because Yueyue was present and he was getting into character for having to spend a night with you.

However, with a night so bleak and the dim glow of the streetlights barely lighting up the roads, there was no one to see his actions then, and everything he was doing was just between the two of you.

Perhaps he really was a gentleman, and it was out of habit that he opened the door for you. You wouldn’t know.

Because Jun was right. There was a lot you didn’t know about him.

The third time.

That incident remained at the back of your mind as concerns about the project wrapping up took priority, especially when finishing the tail-end of the promotions. You were often busy working, and had little time to spare to think about other things.

By then it was summer, and it often rained in the afternoons. Sometimes it only drizzled lightly, and sometimes the thunderstorms were so loud that you could feel your eardrums vibrating.

That day it started out drizzling lightly in the morning. At first, you thought nothing of it, expecting it to stop raining by evening. However, an hour or so before you got off work, it was still pouring outside. The rain didn’t seem like it will stop soon, and you sighed in resignation. You'd foolishly hoped that the rain would have stopped after pouring the whole afternoon, so you'd be able to get home without getting soaked.

However, you were almost about to leave, and yet the rain was still pouring ceaselessly down. You rummaged through your bag for an umbrella.

Even though your hands were occupied, something at the back of your mind told you that you'd forgotten to put the umbrella in your bag this morning. Your search proved futile, and you recalled seeing the umbrella resting on the shoe rack that morning, but you had no memory of putting it into your bag.

You ran through the options in your mind. You could make a dash for it—the building wasn’t too far away from the bus stop—but you didn’t particularly feel like taking the bus home while soaking wet. The other option was waiting it out, but you hadn’t had dinner yet and you were absolutely famished.

You inhaled through gritted teeth, mentally preparing yourself to run through the rain, when a voice cut through your thoughts.

"Are you walking to the bus stop?"

You locked eyes with Jun, who'd just asked the question, and nodded.

"I'm walking there too, shall we go together? We could share an umbrella," he said.

Oh. You felt a ripple of warmth spreading through your body. He'd noticed. You swallowed and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."

To be honest, you weren’t sure what to think of the gesture. Jun was nicer to you lately, and whatever odd tension between the two of you that had laced your interactions had died down too. You still talked to Yueyue, but more for work than any other reason. Jun, too, seemed to be taking it easy, reducing his attempts at chasing her.

Jun stood up, closing his laptop, and you kept your things as well. He came over to you, umbrella in hand, which caused Minghao to look up from his seat.

“Leaving so early?” This sentence was directed at Jun.

“Yeah. Gotta send my work spouse home, they forgot to bring an umbrella.”

You rolled your eyes at the term, but Minghao didn’t even flinch. “Okay, don’t get too wet.”

Tilting his head, Jun gestured for you to follow him out.

It was a silent walk to the bus stop, both of you all too aware of your proximity to each other, trying not to step too far out of the umbrella for fear of getting soaked. The sky was dark, covered by clouds, and the floor was slippery, so you had to take great care not to slip.

Jun maintained a small gap between the two of you, tilting the umbrella slightly to your side, but when you finally reached the bus stop, both of you were dry.

“Thanks.”

Jun looked up from the umbrella, smirking when he saw the grudging expression on your face. “No problem.”

The fourth time.

When Minghao said you would be going on a trip together as a team, you weren’t expecting that to entail camping in the middle of the woods—”Nature reserve, Y/n, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said that already”—and definitely not when you realised you’d have to put up your tents by yourselves.

Not that you were incapable of putting up a tent, but you weren’t keen on the idea of sleeping without a mattress. With your terrible posture and the way you kicked in the night, you could already foresee the backache that would result from this wonderful idea.

At least it was summertime, so you wouldn’t have to worry so much about freezing to death. Minghao and Jun were sharing a tent, of course, because there had never been much to debate about that. Yueyue and Jingxuan were sharing the other 2-person tent, which meant you were left with the smallest tent to yourself. Fortunately, you didn’t mind.

Putting up the tents was a two-person job, and you were embarrassed to admit that you needed help doing it. Obviously, stubborn as you were, you’d tried to set it up by yourself, but trying to place the groundsheet on the ground with only two hands was difficult. You could only hold two corners at a time, and the material of the groundsheet made it such that it kept creasing in ways you didn’t expect, so after a few minutes of trying, you eventually gave up.

You helped Yueyue and Jingxuan fit the tent poles through the loops of the tent, the three of you cheering when the tent started to take shape. Once the tent and flysheet were secured, you asked them to help you set up your tent, only to realise Minghao was the only one setting up his and Jun’s tent. Jun was standing behind you, watching the three of you awkwardly, grinning crookedly at Yueyue when she turned to face him.

Rolling your eyes, you went over to help Minghao.

Minghao raised his eyebrows when you came over, starting to speak before your hands even touched the pegs.

“I’m extremely particular about these sorts of things, by the way. That’s why Jun’s not helping me. So if you do something that I don’t like, there’s a high chance I’ll just undo it and redo it myself.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Also, please put the pegs in well, because I’d prefer to not have to wake up in the middle of the night to find my entire tent blown away.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

After a moment of silence, you tugged at the loops at the bottom of the tent, wiggling the tent pegs deeper into the ground. You packed the soil into the holes you’d made, shaking the pegs to check that they were secure, and stood up with a triumphant smile.

Minghao made his rounds, adjusting the flysheet. Hands on his hips, he walked one round around the tent, inspecting every small bit, using his shoes to check that the pegs were secure. Satisfied, he looked to you with grudging approval.

“Not bad.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing that in Minghao’s dictionary, that was a high-level compliment. Turning back to your own tent, you noticed that Jun and Yueyue were almost done setting it up.

You would have gone over to help, but you didn’t want to interrupt. You turned back to Minghao, who was already climbing into his tent and unpacking his luggage.

“Need help?” you asked Yueyue, deliberately choosing to use English because you knew Jun wouldn’t understand.

She shook her head. “We’re good, I think.”

You glanced at Jun, who was biting his lip in concentration as he slotted the bendy tent pole ends into each other until the tent began to take shape.

“Jun? I can take over from here, you should go ahead and unpack.”

Jun’s head whipped up, and he glared at you for a moment before realising Yueyue was watching him. “I don’t have much to unpack,” he replied simply.

“You sure? I saw how big your luggage is.”

“It’s fine, I can help Yueyue for a little longer.”

“Actually…” The two of you turned your attention to Yueyue, who continued, “I think I need to unpack. I’ll leave the two of you to it?”

You smiled warmly at her. “Go ahead.”

“Yue…” Jun’s voice trailed off as she walked away, glaring at you fiercely.

You pretended not to notice as you focused only on getting your tent up, and once it was set up, you finally paid attention to the way Jun was staring at you. He stood on his tiptoes to tie the knot that secured the tent poles to the flysheet, then stalked over to you.

“Y/n, what the fuck—” The moment the curse word left his lips, Jun looked almost apologetic. He pressed his lips together, silent for a moment, before deciding to continue. “Why would you purposely ask her to leave? We were doing fine, we’re literally helping you set up your tent, I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what? I just reminded her that she still had to unpack.”

“It won’t take that long, don’t play dumb. It’s still bright, and we both know Minghao always gives enough time for everything. It wouldn’t kill her to start unpacking later.”

You shrugged, your gaze slanting towards the other tent. “Tell her that yourself, it’s not like I told her to leave.”

“Cut the crap, Y/n. Why are you acting like this? I thought we were friends.”

“Why am I sabotaging your attempts to hit on her, you mean? I'm not trying to. I’d just prefer it if you didn’t do it while setting up my tent.”

“I-” Just then, Minghao tapped both of your shoulders, jerking his head towards the centre of all the tents. He looked pointedly at Jun for a few moments, then left without saying anything.

“I’m going to set up a fire,” Jun said. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Maybe,” you muttered unhappily under your breath.

—

After dinner, which was cooked over the fire—definitely an experience—the five of you sat by the fire, admiring the orange-red sunset. As the sun disappeared on the horizon, the temperature grew colder, and everyone subconsciously shifted their chairs closer to the crackling fire, jackets wrapped tightly around themselves as they extended their fingers towards the glowing flame.

When all the conversation topics had been exhausted, so was Jingxuan, as evidenced by her sudden yawn. Claiming that it was time for her to turn in, she got up. Not wanting to leave her alone, Yueyue took her leave as well. That left you, Minghao and Jun by the fire, moving your chairs so each had a warm spot.

“Y/n?” You glanced at Jun, bracing yourself for the argument you felt was sure to follow. You were naturally argumentative, there was no denying it, and though Jun wasn’t one to start an argument, he always wanted to win them.

You jerked your head in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

“Are we friends?”

You frowned. That wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. “Yes?” you replied tentatively, unsure where this was heading. 

“Do you like Yueyue?”

You almost laughed. “No.” You didn’t and would never like her that way, probably. She was nice enough, but not exactly your type. You weren’t sure where Jun had got that notion from, but he seemed to be clinging on to that thought since you first joined the company all of 8 months before.

“Then what’s your deal? It feels like you’re doing this on purpose, trying to keep me away from her. If you like her, and she likes you back, fine. I’ll stop pursuing her. But you don’t even like her, so I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

You pursed your lips together, trying to identify the feelings messing up your head, like water after a dirty paintbrush was dipped into it. 

Jun looked at you earnestly, eyes wide as he awaited your reply. After a moment of silence, you shrugged helplessly. “I can’t say what it is. But you’re right, I’m being unreasonable. So, how about this: I’ll leave the two of you be if you don’t flirt right in front of my face, deal?”

Jun stuck out his hand, adding, “You’re still my work spouse, right?”

Taking his hand, you nodded. “Sure.”

Just then, an ear-piercing shriek sounded in the otherwise quiet camping place, and the three of you gathered around the fire stood up simultaneously. Minghao was the fastest to get to Jingxuan and Yueyue’s tent, and the two of them ran out of the tent, Jingxuan’s face white with fear.

“There was a rat!” she cried out. “I swear it bit my fucking toe.”

Upon hearing this, Jun looked rather faint. You moved to help Jingxuan get her shoes, bringing her to the campfire to take a seat first. Yueyue helped Jun to sit down, and you left the three of them to get jackets for Yueyue and Jingxuan.

Meanwhile, Minghao took his phone and turned the flashlight on, inspecting the tent and the area around it.

He came back a couple of minutes later, having ascertained that the rat was gone, but by then everyone had grown comfortable and too tired to move. Jingxuan and Jun were fast asleep, heads propped up on their fists, and you watched Yueyue carefully.

Her hands were shoved into the depths of her pockets, her lips forming a pout absentmindedly, hair tucked behind her ears.

Yueyue tapped Jun’s shoulder to rouse him, and the two of you guided your half-asleep colleagues into their tents before everyone finally fell asleep.

The fifth time.

By then it was autumn, and September was drawing to a close. It was an ordinary work day, a couple of hours before lunch, and Jun suddenly stood up, rummaged through his bag, before procuring a card from his wallet and stalking over to Minghao’s desk.

“You busy?” Minghao nodded without looking up. Jun placed the card on his desk, saying, “I’m using this.” Minghao barely spared the card a second glance before saving his progress and getting up from his seat, gesturing for Jun to follow.

The two of them entered the meeting room, your gaze following them curiously. You met Jingxuan’s eyes, both of you just as confused as each other.

You stood up, walking over to Minghao’s desk, examining the card left behind on the desk. It said, in Minghao’s neat handwriting, “15 minutes of my time. Use whenever.”

You furrowed your brows, placing the card carefully back to where it had been before, heading back to your seat.

Jun and Minghao exited the room not long after, Jun looking conflicted. You followed him with your eyes as subtly as you could, watching as Minghao sat in his seat, looking at the card on the table and furrowing his brows. Looking up, he met your gaze, tilting his head.

Shit. Had you not put the card back properly? How did Minghao know? But to your surprise, your team manager didn’t speak, smirking before returning the card to Jun.

“Team drinks later after work,” he announced, not as a question. The other members of the team looked up briefly, nodded, then returned to their work. You continued to watch Jun sit at his desk, bury his head in his hands, then mess up his hair in frustration.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he opened his laptop and began to work.

—

That evening, the five of you sat at the front of the bar, talking between drinks. After Jingxuan’s story about her landlord drastically inflating the rent when he found out that Jingxuan and her roommate were splitting the costs, you recalled an incident you had just had.

A couple of weeks ago, you’d seen a stray cat on the streets, and decided to take it in. You’d since taken it to the vet for a proper check-up, and had made an appointment for it to get spayed. The only issue was that your landlord didn’t allow tenants to keep pets, and you weren’t sure you could keep it a secret when she came over to check.

“Come stay with me,” Jun said. His tone was teasing, but when you looked at him, his gaze seemed earnest, burning into you with his sincerity. The way he said it, it wasn’t really a question.

“I mean it. If you need a place to stay, come stay with me.”

Normally you would tease him for how serious he was being, but something about the fraught silence and the surrounding atmosphere stopped you from making fun of him. Instead, you watched him carefully, never breaking eye contact, and nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

“Lighten up, my work spouse. You’re acting like we haven’t known each other for a year already,” he said, already back to his old self. You only nodded in reply.

Bonus: the time where he leaves out the “work”.

When you first joined the company, little did you expect that three years down the road, you’d end up waking up next to the man you’d met at your interview, the one with brown hair and dark eyes and a sharp smile.

It had started out with him liking your friend, with tensions here and there due to both of your stubborn tendencies. Your personalities clashed often, resulting in disagreements that turned everyone’s moods sour.

However, you were still mature adults, and after a period of working together, you learned to be more accommodating of his differing opinions and habits and vice versa. Through the shared bonding over working overtime and walking home in the rain, you grew from mere colleagues into friends, growing close enough to talk about more than just the latest project you were working on.

Of course, growing from friends into lovers was slightly more complicated, and you had Minghao to thank for helping you along.

You never realised, but Minghao was the first to notice that you were starting to like Jun. If it weren’t for Minghao subtly helping Jun to grow closer to you, the rivalry may have extended for a far longer period of time than just a few months. Especially with the misguided notion that you liked his crush, Jun would not have been as willing to be your friend without Minghao’s constant nudging.

Almost a year after you had met, before getting drinks together and Jun’s fateful statement that led to the two of you moving in together, Jun had realised that he liked you.

He liked you, not Yueyue. The realisation had been startling, and in a daze, he’d used the card Minghao had given him for his birthday to ask for Minghao’s attention. In those 15 minutes in the meeting room, Jun had voiced out his concerns and desperately asked Minghao for some form of advice.

Jun later told you that Minghao’s answer then had been a simple, “I think you like Y/n.”

Having been in denial for so long, it took Jun a while to realise that his feelings for Yueyue had slowly dissipated over time, and that the lingering sentiments were only platonic, whereas his feelings for you had only grown.

Minghao had offered a simple solution to ease Jun’s heavy heart—drinks with the team. Unbeknownst to him, this action had led to Jun’s implied confession and indirectly caused the two of you to finally get together.

Jun snuggled into your embrace, interrupting your thoughts, nuzzling the underside of your chin and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

”Good morning,” you whispered softly, fingers running through his soft hair. He looked up at you briefly, as if checking over every feature of your face, before nodding in satisfaction and shutting his eyes again.

A peaceful smile came over his face, the blissful expression on his face causing you to smile as well.

”You should marry me,” he mumbled, hands tightening around your waist.

”That’s sudden. Where’s the ring?” You teased.

”Haven’t bought it yet,” he frowned. “But if you don’t say yes, then I wouldn’t have to return it.”

You let out a little laugh. Practical as always. “And if I say yes?”

Eyes still closed, he reached over you to the bedside table, fingertips trailing to the first drawer. He pulled it open, and you turned your head to look. There, sitting on top of your favourite books was a nondescript black velvet box. “Pass it to me,” he said, blinking his eyes slowly open.

You passed it to him without a word and he scrambled to sit up in the bed, both knees tucked under him in a kneeling fashion, opening the box to reveal a ring with a silver band, with a small jewel atop it.

”You said you don’t like fancy things, right?”

Struck speechless, you didn’t protest as he gently took your left hand, slipping the ring onto your fourth finger. He pulled your head in towards his chest, kissing the top of your head.

Just like that, Jun’s proposal to you was as simple and direct as the time when he asked you to move in, less of a question than a request, one that you would gladly agree to.

[vague-humanoid]

Though calling out antisemitism is central to the commissioners’ role, it’s unclear what qualifies these officials to adjudicate anti-Jewish bigotry. Klein, for instance, came to his current position after a stint working as the German government’s representative to Jewish organizations, but prior to that, he spent most of his career in Germany’s foreign service working on unrelated issues, stationed in places like Cameroon and Italy. When I visited him in his office in Berlin last April, only a menorah decal pasted on one of the windows hinted at the nature of his position. Klein told me that there are no standardized training programs for the commissioners or educational requirements that they must fulfill before their appointments. Schüler-Springorum pointed out that, though references to the Holocaust underlie every aspect of Germany’s antisemitism system, many of the commissioners are far from experts on the history in question. “It’s amazing how little they know about National Socialism,” she lamented. None of the antisemitism commissioners for either the German Federal Government or its Bundesländer, or states, is ethnically Jewish—which, according to Klein, is by design. “The fight against antisemitism is a problem for the whole of society. It isn’t a problem for the Jewish community to face by itself,” he told me. “I mean, it’s not as though the most pressing problem with antisemitism in Germany is among Jews.”

Indeed, when Jews interact directly with the system, it is often as its targets: Klein told the Berliner Zeitung in a January 2021 interview that “tendentially left-leaning Israelis in Berlin” should “be sensitive to Germany’s special historical responsibility” when they criticize Israel. In the eyes of the commissioners, this seems to be all the more true of Muslims and Arabs—especially Palestinians—who voice support for the Palestinian cause. “Palestinians are like a thorn in the side of Germany’s memory culture,” Palestinian German lawyer Nadija Samour told Jewish Currents. They’re “disposable,” but also “crucial for the German identity . . . If you really want to prove how civilized you are, and how philosemitic or pro-Israel you are, you get the chance to prove that by throwing Palestinians under the bus.”

This commitment to Israel advocacy—which requires disciplining the state’s Jewish critics as well as suppressing Palestinian speech—has led observers to argue that the system of antisemitism commissioners exists less to ensure the safety of Jews than to placate Germans’ feelings of guilt for the Holocaust. Indeed, last summer, in the course of admonishing Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas for comparing Israel’s crimes to the Holocaust during his visit to Germany, Klein emphasized the way that antisemitism hurts Germans. “By relativizing the Holocaust, President Abbas lacked any sensitivity towards us German hosts,” Klein said. Emily Dische-Becker, a left-wing Jewish curator and journalist in Berlin, told Jewish Currents that German antisemitism efforts are ultimately not driven by a concern for Jews. “It basically is an issue of German identity politics at the end of the day,” she said. Neiman—whose 2019 book Learning from the Germans argues that the nation provides a model for other countries struggling with the weight of collective memory—told me that the creation of the commissioner system, and the passage of the anti-BDS resolution the following year, had caused her to question her previous evaluation. “Things have changed really dramatically since the book came out,” she said. “I still think that Germany did something historically unique by putting its crimes in the center of its national narrative, but I also think it’s gone haywire in the last three years. This system of antisemitism commissioners basically went in all the wrong directions.”

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Is this the end? (part III)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.8k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm and (sexual) abuse (both not detailed) •A/N: The final part!! Sorry it took me over a month to finish... Hope you enjoy! Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

"Another lap! Keep going! Keep going!"

Katya's head still spun from the psychological tests they drowned her in this morning, and now they had her doing a military physical test in the Maryland afternoon rain. She completed the obstacle course in record time—as expected—and was now running laps around a muddy track with her lungs burning in her chest.

"Come on! I've seen kids go faster than that!"

Katya clenched her teeth, refraining from yelling anything back to the stupid woman in the middle of the track, with her stupid stopwatch and her stupid clipboard. There were two intimidating looking SHIELD agents, one at the south gate and one at the north, with pistols strapped to their legs, that wouldn't appreciate an outburst like that. 

She knew for a fact that she was going twenty percent faster than the fastest human being. Twenty percent smarter, twenty percent stronger, twenty percent faster. At least, that's what she was told. Who knows how true that all was. 

There were more things she didn't know about herself than she did know. This morning's tests had proven that once again. 

Besides the puzzles, the riddles, the IQ tests, the personality test, and the lie detector loyalty test—the one SHIELD knew she could beat if she wanted to—there was the shrink, the therapist. Katya hated them. Always pretending to understand what she felt, the sympathetic look, the invasive questions; those people could never help her. She didn't want their help.

But answering their questions was a part of this weird test day that she didn't fully understand, but she felt she had to behave for.

So she acted like nothing the shrink said bothered her, talked around things, and tried to fight off the pit of despair in her stomach when he asked her the most basic questions.

"Where were you born?"

"I don't know."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No idea."

"What are the names of your parents?"

"Couldn't tell you."

Lucky for her, Katya didn't have time to dwell on them like she usually would. She was ordered to put on sports clothes and shoved in the back of a SHIELD van right after the interview ended. And now she was here, trying very hard not to think about them again as all the laps she ran blurred into one.

Instead, she tried to figure out what this testing thing was all about. Because last night, she was still one-hundred percent convinced she would have to leave SHIELD. No doubts. Her bags were packed. She had made peace with it. 

But then they pulled her out of bed at 6 this morning. First to put her in a room with all these tests; figural reasoning, logic-based reasoning, situational judgement. And now to test her physical fitness. All stuff to determine how good of a spy she'd be. 

Why?

Katya mulled over that single question on the journey here, to this SHIELD training facility. 

Why would they be testing her if they were sending her off?

That question spun around and around in her head. It was there as she climbed the rope net, there as she crawled through the mud—inches below barbed wire, there as she dashed across a slim beam, and there as her feet splashed tirelessly in the puddles on the oval track. 

She still didn't have a solid answer. 

She didn't dare to think about the positive answer. 

Nothing in her life had ever turned out good. Her stay at SHIELD—it had felt finite from the start. Too good to be true. She was a tool, one that was meant to work and function. Worthless if it didn't. There was no way SHIELD was going to keep her if she didn't function. The organizations she was a part of before didn't. Why would SHIELD be different? Even here, there must be no space for leniency.

No, they were definitely going to throw her by the side of the road like trash. 

Or—and this possibility started to claw at Katya's heaving chest with terror—they were selling her again. Back to the Russians. Back to whatever party wanted to have her.

Katya hadn't noticed her rhythmic steps had started to falter until a loud voice called across the field.

"Come on! Don't stop! Keep going!"

But she was heaving now, panic slashing through her body when she couldn't catch her breath. She stumbled clumsily, her heart racing in her chest. The ground rushed towards her. 

They were making her go back to Russia.

"Hey! Petrova!"

She wasn't gonna let them. Another life of abuse, of torture. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it.

"Are you hearing me?!"

She'd die before going back there. If she was going to be handed off, she was going to make a run for it. Either she'd make it out alive, or they'd shoot her dead. A win either way. 

"Are you hearing me? I said: keep going!"

Katya abruptly shot up, her eyes spitting fire as she turned around with newfound energy. "Shut up!" She screamed, so loudly her aching lungs burned. "I'm trying! Can't you see I'm trying!" 

Her supervisor blinked a few times, her thumb frozen on the start/stop button of the old-fashioned stopwatch. She didn't look surprised as Katya glared at her. That must not be a good thing.

Immediately knowing she fucked up, Katya turned around again and ran off as fast as her numb legs could carry her. Through the mud, through the soppy grass, with no real destination in mind. There was no way out of this fenced complex, but she didn't stop until she collapsed against the wall of an electricity cabin, black spots dancing across her vision. 

Tears burned behind her eyes. Her breath came and went in short bursts as she tried to fight off an even intenser panic attack. 

Everything was officially over. Yelling at her supervisor definitely closed the book of a life at SHIELD for good. And it was all her own fault. Her fault for not being good enough, and that was a completely new thing for her. She'd always been the best.

Katya turned her face up to the sky, the cold raindrops refreshing on her burning skin. She used them to ground herself, counting them one by one to gain control of her panicked body.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine.

Strangely enough, she longed for Natasha. The woman had no clue of her panic attacks, but Katya suddenly felt a strong need to have her by her side, helping her through this one.

Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two.

Her chest ached, but not because of her lungs this time. She would have to say goodbye to Natasha again soon. 

Thirty-three, thirty-four.

Her tears mixed with the rain. All her emotions surrounding the redhead were a confusing mess. Where her whole life and future felt unsure and scary, Natasha was the center of calmness. If Katya thought of her, she felt strong, safe, able to do anything.

Thirty-five, thirty-six.

Natasha brought up emotions within her that Katya hadn't felt in ten years. Genuine happiness, affection, purpose, but most of all, that incredibly dangerous four-letter word.

Thirty-seven, thirty-eight.

But there was also fear, and guilt, and anger, and grief. One minute, Katya was confident of what she felt and wanted. The next, she was sure everything was doomed and nobody ever loved her.

Thirty-nine, forty.

"Petrova!" A voice called from the distance. Katya turned her head away from the sky, squinting through the rain. "We're done for today! Let's go! We're leaving!"

Forty-one, forty-two.

This was the end. But her life at SHIELD was doomed to end the day it started, so what did anything still matter?

~~~~

She didn't apologize for her outburst when she got into the car. The concept of a genuine apology was foreign to her. Nobody had ever said sorry to her. Not for touching her, not for beating her up, and not for starving her to death. So she never apologized either.

Rain, sweat, and mud dripped from her body onto the leather seats and the floor mats down below. Katya felt disgustingly gross, if that was even a thing. Her socks were wet, she stank, her skin felt gross, and her nails were black with mud. It only added to her emotional misery. 

She wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Her life had known very deep lows, but this must be one of the most painful moments of all. Right when everything was at the tips of her fingers, it fell out of reach. And that happened while she looked and felt like a drowned rat.

Shivering and shaking, Katya crawled out of the car an hour later, eager to take a shower. 

She decided not to wait any longer. After getting clean, she was going to pack her bags and leave. She had waited long enough. This had dragged out long enough. If they weren't going to make the decision, then she would, walking out of the best thing that ever happened to her.

"Fury wants to see you in this office."

That sentence should have instilled more fear into her than it did, but Katya felt physically nothing as she nodded once, turning to the lifts to freshen up before facing the most important man of the Western world.

"Right now."

She stopped and turned back to her supervisor, raising her eyebrows. Some dried mud cracked on her forehead. "Can't I shower first?"

"Now," the woman ordered, striding off with big steps.

Katya suppressed a scoff, sighing deeply as she dragged her feet to the elevators. What a way to get fired. She didn't blame the people that shuffled away from her in the elevator this time. In the reflection of the doors, she caught sight of herself and completely understood their disgust.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Those were not the first words Katya had expected to hear from her boss when she stepped into his office, but she hadn't missed the hint of amusement in his voice and in the glint of his eye. She couldn't blame him either.

Awkwardly, she pushed her damp hair behind her ears. "Maryland rain, sir," she answered stupidly, too paralyzed to come up with anything better.

Fury scoffed a laugh, rustling through the papers on his desk. "You better not drag any of that on my carpet."

"I'll try not to," Katya answered, standing even more still.

It appeared Fury had no rush, because he kept searching for something in the silence that settled into the room. She hoped he couldn't see her anxiety. Because despite her acceptance of the future, Katya's heart pounded in her chest with nerves. She hated it. There was only one emotion that could persist after all this: 

Hope.

Her mouth opened before she could stop it.

"Before you send me away, sir, I would like to say something, if I can." 

Blankly, Fury looked up. He couldn't be thrilled about an interruption, but Katya took his sudden attention and silence as a yes. She cleared her throat and felt the corners of her mouth turn up.

"I just want to say thank you. I know it wasn't generosity that allowed me to stay. It wasn't pity either. I don't know what it was. But you gave me an opportunity to become better, to turn my life around… and that means more to me than you'll ever know."

Now, she was ready to leave. Thanking him was the last thing on her to-do list before she could peacefully go. He was, after all, the first man who had ever protected her.

"Who said anything about sending you away?" 

Katya blinked—once, twice—trying to grasp the meaning of his words. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the world started to spin.

Fury sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. "I had Romanoff storm into my office on Monday. She's very… protective of you. Said I had no reason to doubt you. That you hadn't lied about anything. Was she wrong?"

"No, sir," Katya answered on autopilot. Her brain was numb, too confused trying to understand what the hell was going on. She was only half aware of what he was saying.

Fury calmly studied her. "I assume she told you that the mission was a test? A test of loyalty."

Katya nodded once. It had felt so unimportant when Natasha told her that. She failed her mission, test or not. End of story.

"See, I can never be certain of the choices someone makes until they are in a life or death situation," Fury continued. "When you joined our fine organization, you were locked up, literally chained to the floor with nowhere to go. It's easy to give up your loyalty that way."

His leather chair squeaked when he sat up straight, folding his hands together on his messy desk. His one eye pierced her skin until it stared straight into her soul. Katya had never felt more like a kid.

"So, I wanted to see if you'd do the same thing again. If choosing to join SHIELD was just a way to save your own ass, or that you really wanted a second chance."

A drop of rain water trickled down Katya's temple and cheek.

"The easy way out would have been to surrender to Hydra, convince them you joined us with the goal to spy on us and report back later. But you didn't. You fought for your freedom, for your return to us."

Part of Katya was hurt and furious that he put her through that. That he emotionally broke her by letting her believe that she messed up. But the bigger, rational part of her completely understood. Fury wasn't the director for nothing. He made smart choices—hard choices—in order to keep his organization safe. 

She wouldn't have trusted herself either if she was in his shoes. She had all the odds against her. Russian, a spy. She'd killed dozens of good guys, grown up brainwashed and indoctrinated. She'd been physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually abused her whole life, making her the most unstable, traumatized person on the planet.

The only reason she was standing here was because of Natasha. And because of that small, tiny spot in Fury's heart that was soft for lost, broken people like her.

Fury picked up the iPad in front of him, swiping and tapping on it until he started to read from it. "See, today, you gave me the best scores I've seen since Romanoff did the same military course. In dry weather." 

Surprised, Katya's lips parted. Her performance today didn't feel like anything special.

"You ran multiple track records forty minutes in. You're stronger than the strongest guy we have, you are more intelligent than most of the scientists we have down at the lab, with zero mistakes on the tests from this morning. Your aim is impeccable, and your situational judgement is excellent." Fury lowered the iPad, pointedly looking at her. "I would be extremely stupid to let a good spy like that walk out of my building."

Katya could hardly hear anything over the pounding in her ears. She was shaking so violently she feared she was spraying drops of water everywhere like a wet dog. "What are you saying?" She asked, suppressing the hope in her voice.

"That I'm taking a big leap—no a huge leap, by making you an official Agent of SHIELD, but I believe that you won't break my trust."

Katya squared her shoulders, ignoring the huge wave of relief that crashed into her. "I'll be the best, most loyal spy you've ever had."

Something flickered behind Fury's eyes. A smile? He reached for the drawer of his desk, pulling something out. "Somehow, I don't doubt that." 

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed something on the far side of his desk. Curious, Katya took a step closer, stretching out to see what it was.

Her own face stared back at her. 

Katariina Alina Petrova. Level 1.

"Welcome to SHIELD, Agent Petrova."

~~~~

Katya pulled her knees tighter to her chest, closing her eyes and enjoying the hot water that cascaded down her body. It wasn't only cleansing her skin, but her heavy soul, slowly washing away all these months of insecurity and tension, revealing the person that she forgot existed underneath. It felt freeing, like a rebirth.

Another violent tremble shook her so badly that her teeth clattered. For this reason, she had to sit down to shower. It started once she realized she was safe, shedding her muddy clothes on the bathroom floor. First, she'd thrown up her lunch in the toilet and nearly fainted, and then the trembles started. It was just her body's way of getting rid of all the tension.

Katya didn't even mind it. She was too ecstatic to be bothered. Her sobs bounced off the tiled walls in relief, in disbelief, in happiness. She sobbed until her lungs hurt. It felt so good.

There was only one person on her mind who she desperately wanted to share the news with. The only reason she hadn't stormed over there immediately after getting her SHIELD ID was because of the way she looked and smelled. And because of the way Katya had been treating her these past few weeks… 

It took an hour for her body to calm down enough that it was safe to stand up. Katya got out of the shower on shaky legs, made herself look presentable, and then snuck to the kitchen. Her stomach felt queasy, her throat raw and dry. She chugged a whole bottle of water and stuffed a sandwich down before stealing something out of the special cabinet.

Even the hallways of SHIELD HQ felt different as she walked through them. She saw things she'd never seen before because she had been too anxious, too focused to see them. She'd never fully taken in all the details, because why would she do that if she wasn't sure that she could get to stay? Like a foster kid that didn't dare unpack their clothes until a few months later because they weren't sure if their foster parents would want to keep them.

Katya sat outside, by the river, on one of the only recreational benches that were placed there. HQ was built on such a small island that there wasn't much space around it. And all the space that was there, was used efficiently. Agents that wanted to go on a stroll in the fresh air had to cross the bridge. 

But Katya wasn't looking for exercise. She was looking for a quiet place to drink. Was that a smart idea on a sensitive stomach? No. Probably a very bad idea. But even though she felt on top of the world, the reality of her actions also came down on her in this sudden clarity of emotions. 

She'd treated Natasha like shit. Avoided her, yelled at her, ignored her. And the redhead had deserved none of those things. 

Katya's heart ached when she thought about it. She couldn't help how dark things got when she fell into a depression like that, but it didn't mean she shouldn't take responsibility for her actions. It wasn't an excuse to behave like she did. 

But it was so, so hard to talk about. Emotions, feelings, they weren't supposed to be spoken about. They were supposed to be hidden. She was supposed to be stronger than those raging feelings in her body. Look where it brought her if she gave in.

Katya shook her head strictly and took another sip of vodka. Those were toxic thoughts. Things they programmed her with. She was human, and humans had feelings, and feelings were meant to be felt. What she was about to do went against everything she was taught.

She was going to apologize to Natasha. 

By the time she managed to muster up the courage to knock on Natasha's apartment door, she'd finished half the bottle of vodka. It had done little to nothing to ease her nerves. Her hands still shook as she pushed her ID deeper into the back pocket of her jeans and fiddled with the cap of the vodka bottle.

Katya was prepared for anything. If Natasha wanted to slam the door in her face and yell mean things at her, then she deserved that. Honestly, she expected it. Anything slightly better than that would be too generous.

Her heart threatened to burst out of her throat when she heard shuffling on the other side of the wooden door. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she should just send a text message. But before she could actually bail, the door swung open.

Natasha froze in place, her eyes widening. "Kat," she breathed in surprise. It must have come out different than she wanted to, because she shifted her weight around and added a more casual, ''Hey.''

She must have seen the difference in Katya's demeanor right away, right when she laid eyes on her. The dark war flag had been taken down for one of surrender. Usually, it was a shame to wave a white flag. But in this case, it was bravery.

"Hey," Katya answered with a trembling half smile, avoiding Natasha's gaze in a way that was meant to be nonchalant. Stupidly, she hadn't thought of what to say. Who the hell came up to give an apology and didn't rehearse what to say first? "I have something for you."

As disoriented as she was, Natasha took the bottle of vodka without thinking. When she held it up to study it, Katya realized what an incredibly stupid gift it was, and how she deserved a slap in the face for this terrible attempt at an apology. It's just as soon as she was in front of Natasha, all the words left her brain.

"Yeah, sorry, I drank half of it," Katya said sheepishly when she saw the odd look on Natasha's face. "I needed some courage to come talk to you.''

Her vulnerable confession came as a surprise to both of them. Natasha's expression visibly softened while Katya fought the urge to run away or make a joke to cover it up. She'd never felt this uncomfortable, but she rooted her boots into the floor and refused to give in to it.

Natasha turned the bottle over in her hand, reading the label on the back. "Where did you get this?" Katya was grateful she didn't comment on her confession.

"The kitchen."

The redhead's head snapped up. "You stole this?" Her eyes flickered left and right into the hallway, the blood draining from her face. She looked afraid. "Kat, one foot wrong and you're out—"

"Yeah, I wouldn't worry about that anymore." With a sly smile, Katya pulled her new SHIELD ID from her pocket and held it up. 

The rest of Natasha's scolding words died in her throat. Her mouth closed, and she slowly raised her free hand to take the ID. It was obvious that Katya had surprised her. So many different emotions crossed over her face but they were gone too quickly to nail down. She was too hard to read. Even for Katya right now.

"When did you get this?'' She asked distractedly, reading the words on the very plain, very boring ID. Katya's headshot wasn't even pretty. They took it right as she came out of the isolation cell, when she had barely seen the sun in weeks. 

''Two hours ago?'' She nervously chewed on her lip. She couldn't tell if Natasha was happy about it. What if she didn't want her to stay anymore after this week? Oh gosh, what then?

But then, right as Katya couldn't take it anymore, a smile broke through on Natasha's face. ''Well, shit.'' She gave a disbelieving chuckle, her green eyes sparkling proudly as she looked her childhood friend in the eye. ''Congrats. I knew you could do it.''

Katya felt tingly all over. The first person to believe in her wasn't herself, it was Natasha. For a long time, it was only Natasha. It made her want to hold her chin up a bit higher, and try a little bit harder. For her. 

''Thank you.'' She ignored the heat in her cheeks as she stuck the ID back in her pocket. Receiving compliments was an art she didn't master, so she covered it up with a joke. "A lot of people aren't going to be happy with this decision."

Natasha scoffed cockily, stepping aside to let Katya into her apartment. "Screw that. You belong with m—us now. I always knew, but now it's on paper too." She shrugged her shoulders after she closed the door, placing the vodka on a cabinet to the side. "Or on plastic, I guess."

Puzzle pieces fell into place. Peace settled over Katya like a warm blanket in the winter as she looked around Natasha's plain apartment. This was her home now. She was officially safe. She had friends who had her back. She belonged somewhere. She could breathe.

The emotions were so overwhelming. The urge to curl up into a ball on the floor and cry happily was so strong. Twenty-three years of living and she finally had a place in this world.

"Natalia.'' 

Natasha was already looking at her, but Katya felt the need to say her name, to make sure she was listening. That she knew something serious was coming. Uneasily, the blonde shuffled in her spot, staring at Natasha's stomach instead of looking into her eyes. She wouldn't be able to say what she wanted to say.

''I'm sorry.'' Her throat felt tight. The words were hard to get out. But Katya pushed them out and threw her heart at Natasha's feet. ''I really thought Fury was going to send me away. I tried to make it easier for myself by distancing myself from you, to try and make the heartbreak hurt less. It was stupid, and unfair, and I hurt you, and I'm really sorry for that."

She sucked in a shallow breath. That was the most open she'd been her whole life. But it felt good to get that off her chest.

"It was stupid," Natasha said. Shocked by her bluntness, Katya forgot her nerves and looked up. "Stupid to think I wouldn't follow you out that door if you left."

Katya quickly shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the weight of those words. "I would never want you to give all this up for me. It's the reason I didn't come to find you in the first place.''

''Looks like I don't have to give up anything now.'' Natasha looked so sure about her decision that Katya didn't even try to argue any more. She just observed the woman standing in front of her. The one she didn't deserve in every lifetime.

"I'm sorry, Talia. Again. I fell into old habits."

"Don't beat yourself up. You're already forgiven,'' Natasha said softly. She glanced at the floor, sliding her hands into her back pockets. ''I also want to say sorry, for the way I reacted when I found you in the shooting range.'' She shook her head, as if she disapproved of herself. ''That could've been done way better. I was just—you scared me.''

Katya mirrored her depressing mood, shame washing over her in waves. She was so far away from that state of mind right now, that it was hard to understand why she wanted to dig that knife into herself to begin with. ''That was the first time somebody was there to stop me,'' she muttered, immediately beating herself up over saying that when Natasha's face saddened further. 

''I'm sorry.''

Katya shook her head. ''I don't want you to feel like you have to keep me alive or something.''

''I don't feel like that,'' Natasha answered with conviction. ''But when you ever feel that urge again, will you come to me?''

''I can try.''

The redhead nodded once, then straightened up and took the vodka from the cabinet. ''Enough of the heavy stuff. We should celebrate. Have you been to the roof?'' She asked mysteriously, a smug sparkle in her bright eyes. And just like that, the conversation was over and they were all good again.

''No…?'' Katya answered warily.

Natasha smiled, swinging the door open. ''Let's go then, Agent Petrova.''

Katya chuckled as she passed through, watching Natasha take a big swig of the liquor as they walked down the hallway. ''You do realize you're going to be stuck with me forever now, right?''

''It's the only way I wanted it.''

[helslastangel]

Blaming my personality on my parents' personal planets

A TRULY random "observation," if you will.

(Not to be taken seriously. If you must be serious, slither off my post before you trip and fall into a sense of humor 🙃)

As a Virgo sun, I (allegedly) aspire to be methodical, organized, and focused.

However, in practice, I am none of those things. People usually think otherwise. Why?

Well.

I'm good at making an art out of imitating life - my parents' normal lives to be exact. Lol.

My default setting is to dance around topics or agree with opposing sides of any conversation until no one knows what I am actually saying or if I am even trying to say anything at all. Libra mercury tings.

Unless, of course, I'm emotionally charged. In which case, may God have mercy on your soul because my dear Cancer Mars won't.

That being said...

My parents' planetary influence on my day to day communication is in the same house that my sun sits in, and that's...well, revealing.

I like to think our guardians help to shape our alternate selves, if nothing else.

Mom

Sun conjunct my Mercury

Sun square my Mars & Ascendant

Mars in my 3H, conjunct my Sun, trine Moon & Lilith

Saturn conjunct my Lilith, trine my Sun & Moon

Lilith in my 3H & opposite my Saturn

My ISFJ mother is one of the most organized and methodical people I know. She actually uses a planner (multiple planners, actually) from January straight to December. You can ask her for a detail from 20 years ago, and she'll go off into another room and come back blowing the dust off some old notebook. Somehow, she's got the answer in there, timestamped and dated.

Meanwhile, my ADHD-riddled ENTP ass could open a refurbished stationary shop with all the unused notebooks and planners I've collected over the years. However, having been infused for 9 months inside and 18 years beside the world's most organized woman, I CAN and often do what my mother does, though only for short periods of time. Long enough to be a means to my own ends, but too short to truly shape my character in any lasting way: e.g., making a good impression in an interview, getting through probation at a new job, attempting to fool professors, and so on.

I-

Dad

Mercury in my 3H & opposite my Saturn

Mars in my 8H, trine my Mercury, & square my Lilith

Saturn in my 12H & square my Saturn

My ENTJ dad is like an anthropomorphic university textbook. Everything he says is laid out in a coherent, well-ordered line. No shortage of words, but all of them are somehow necessary and useful. He can not only think of things to say on the spot in any situation, but he easily makes it sound like he gave it a thousand years of thought before speaking. Always gets to the point (or circles back to it quite quickly).

Mhm, here too, I can imitate my dad's ability to make perfect logical sense. By feigning concise, effective speech for just as long as necessary to swing things in my favor, I also scratch that Virgo sun itch to fit an ideal.

But, really, the only part I embody effortlessly is never being short on words. Everything else is subject to terms and conditions. Me? Get to the point? Naturally? Nyet.

I try to self-edit in real time whenever on the phone or face-to-face with someone who might question my sanity should I default to my Libra mercury + Cancer mars special combo. The one that tries to be amicable and inclusive while tiptoeing over everyone's toes, only to hesitate and end up tripping and falling and landing on all of them.

90% of anything I write has to be picked apart like a roach at a hen party and barely resemble whatever I originally wrote before seeing the light of day. Otherwise, it will read the way I talk - in concentric circles. 🙃 🔁

oop.

Lost my train of thought and found something more interesting to do.

To be continued.

Maybe.

↤ go back to the masterlist

[seraphcelene]

IWTV 2.7: I Could Not Prevent It

I almost hate to keep circling the drain on what this season of IwtV has done, but it's so choice and so intentional and it makes my little writer's heart sing. I love it because I love narrative. Storytelling in all of its nuanced, complex, diverse ways is a thing that fascinates me to no end. An unreliable narrator is arguably one of my favorite things because I already have an almost immediate distrust of the narrative voice. So, when an author does that shit on purpose? 😍

Oh my Fucking Gods! I have a hard on for that shit because who do you trust, what's the truth, how do we understand the story we are being told? I love the act of identifying loosely patched over edges and pulling at loose threads. There's a lie here, someone is playing all up in my face and I want the answers! And a really good writer who implements an unreliable narrator leaves tells all the fuck over the place. After all ....

"You cannot script a hurricane."

Okay, here we are in episode seven, still circling the drain of who has ownership of the story? Louis is the vampire who is being "interviewed" with the occasional footnote offered by Armand. This is in tension with the book in which Louis's is the only voice. What has changed, to make this a richer story, is how introducing Armand's perspective now turns everything on its head. It's an explicit kind of dig at the way that interviews are curated by both the interviewer and the interviewee. What are you willing to discuss? What's on the record? What's off the record? How much external research and material will be introduced? How does the story survive interpretation? What's the fucking goal here?

I'm thinking a little about the Andrew McCarthy documentary about the Brat Pack and how one New York Magazine article in 1985 turned the lives of a group of up and coming actors sideways. David Blum, who wrote the article, had an agenda. He had a point to prove and the article wasn't especially flattering. Watching the doc it becomes clear that Emilio Estevez had a different idea about what that article was supposed to be about. But such is the nature of the interview. In the end, the story shared, in all of its limited, constructed dance of questions and answers is still subject to editing, the perspective of the interviewer, and interpretation by the reader.

Here, Louis has a point to make. Exactly what that is? Who really knows. He does the first interview as a kind of love letter/suicide note to the world before he walks into the sun. This "re-do" might still be such. It also might be his attempt to understand what happened. He has questions, he knows there's holes and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that he can't and doesn't trust Armand. He also could want to, as I think he states in S1E1, provide an accurate accounting of what vampires are like.

Honestly, I'm on the self-discovery train.

I love how when Louis gets angry, and he has been getting angrier and angrier, he snaps hard on people. The way he shushes Daniel, "I am speaking," was delicious. Armand's discomfort was apparent and I had to wonder given this is the season's penultimate episode what we're about to find out about what happened in the past and his part in it. He's been concerned about how this was all going to go and he's only gotten MORE uncomfortable as the series has progressed.

But, and as always, what do we get to really know? Who's story is being remembered?

Louis's true and living history?

A flawed truth that Louis remembers in fragments patched over by imperfect logic? (how memory maybe really works?)

A false truth fed to him by Armand?

How about a messy patchwork of all the fucked up above.

Lestat is back. Out for blood or on the apology tour, not exactly sure. The Brat Prince himself treading the boards of the theater he helped to establish, what a sight. Lestat loves the show, he loves performance. It's definitely one of the characteristics carried over from the book. Lestat is petty and savage and a liar. He makes himself a victim, but why? What is the value of it? The trial is a farce and Lestat feels wronged and wants revenge. He wants to be as important to Louis as Claudia is. He wants to be loved in return because he is a terrible person and he knows it, but also, Lestat de Lioncourt feels incredibly deep. For all of his toxicity, Lestat was written as a character who loves to the detriment of his own best interest. And he loves Louis. I remember them from the books as acknowledging that they are that couple who are meant to be together but never CAN be together because they are too toxic to each other.

"I couldn't force him to love me. I couldn't force him to return my affections … and so … I broke him." TOXIC and PETTY AS FUCK.

Stories told by the heartbroken. What lies do you make up to explain and justify a thing that happened so that you are not culpable?

Lestat in this episode and the next is also prepping us for the shift that must, to some degree, come with Season 3. How do you turn a villain into an anti-hero into a hero? Lestat is the hero of The Vampire Lestat and of The Vampire Chronicles. I think the show runners are starting that redemption arc now. Not the smallest part of which is Lestat as an unknown quantity, uncontrollable if he doesn't want to be.

Daniel's voice is honest and unnervingly direct. He strips the window dressing off of everything, exposing nuance to a critical light that leaves everything sordid and as ugly as reality just is. In that there is, perhaps, the closest we will ever get to the truth.

Arguably, if it weren't for Santiago we might forget that alot of this is bullshit. Angry, jealous, manipulative, Santiago's performance during the trial forces the viewer to confront the reality of a crafted narrative. He knows they're lying and spitting scripted facts skewed for effect. It was brilliant to watch the bounce between his goals and Lestat's constant slide into melancholia. HAHAHA! A hurricane, indeed. That guy was SO. ANNOYED.

Episode 7 continues with the manipulation of the storyline made as clear and explicit as it ever has been. The way the music is used during the trial, Lestat's lies and half-truths, the animation running on the screen. We're being beaten over the head with this blur between performance and reality.

Watching the re-tread of how Claudia became a vampire makes me me feel like I need to go back to watch Season 1. The gaslighting is real! And then Louis' capitulation to the differences in the way he remembers it happened and the way that Lestat says it happens is perfect! Tell it Lestat's way, for the book. Because he DOESN'T REMEMBER. There are, after all, three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth.

Louis' memory has been so tampered with. By time, by Armand's manipulations, by madness, and trauma.

I still maintain that Armand is trash.

I thought the title would be a quote from Louis who in admission of his own powerlessness laments Claudia's death as an unavoidable failure on his part. That it is Armand who has ownership of the line changes the story, as always. I could not prevent it suggests that there was nothing that he could do, but the reality, as has so often been the case with Armand, is that he did not want to. The entire sham trial was preventable had he chosen Louis over the coven to begin with. The unfortunate reality is that he, like Lestat, despised Claudia for Louis' adoration of her. He was jealous and would forever be and the only way that he could have exactly what he wanted was to get rid of her. Doing it this way, he gets to blame the coven and Lestat. Arguably, Lestat for all of his machinations and insecurities, his petulant rage, actually loves and was loved by Louis in a way that Armand, despite Louis's modern protestations, never can or will be.

I'm so in love with the way the story is told that I don't talk too much about Claudia. A BOOK could be written about the silencing of marginalized female voices. Claudia, despite her diaries, has no real voice in this. She is an assemblage of half-remembrances and a yellow dress pinned to the wall. It makes it so much more poignant and electric then that she curses every last person sitting in that theater before she burns. There is no need to hide that or shade it. It was not directed at Louis. Armand's willingness to allow Claudia to burn while not doing the same for Louis is tragic. And again, all of this could have been unnecessary. I've said before that I don't think Armand was ever much of an alpha.

[thegalarianchamp]

Francis hasn't really had any formal training with Dragons - he's self-taught. That alone drew a lot of attention when the Galarian press found out his speciality. He was bombarded with interviews and questions for weeks.

Its not really something you see outside of Hammerlocke.

He didn't even know how to properly answer it. He'd found an injured Pokemon - his then-Tyrunt - and simply tried to help her feel better. They bonded, and his interest grew from there as did his desire to learn more about how to take care of her. Taking care of more Dragons just felt logical, after that.

Its not a bloodline/culture thing. Just a nerd thing (also Dragons are fucking cool).

[frances-kafka]

The big thing with Cause-and-Adjacency becoming a dominant social logic, is that we dominantly meet online now, downstream from SEO and marketing algorithms. And there is almost no separation between grass-touch life and the internet anymore. So whatever you do in the 3d world, is going to have a feedback loop with the internet. To extend the dumb example I used again, about "the railroad fandom" being an intersection of WWII Nazis, train autists, New Urbanists (many examples possible, but limiting the field for simplicity's sake): In the 1980s, if you were in a third space dealing with Train Fandom as a topic, it was a *very different experience* from dealing with Train Fandom online.

(I was not part of train fandom, but I was part of other spaces this applies to.) One big thing is that the third space in question may in fact be under Robert's Rules of Order, or have to default to the "house rules" of wherever it's being hosted. And there is a certain amount of stuff that people just weren't going to say right to another person's face. You are also having participants in your space, in an in-person third space, sorted by area. (This has plusses and minuses. It's great if you fit into your area and it's terrible if you don't. But a big thing is that the more extreme people aren't actually going to physical spaces, where I live. Your Mileage May Vary.)

You meet the people you like, you leave with the people you like.

Modern internet interaction *isn't like this.*

Anything within the latent space of a thing you're into, will get spammed into your face. The only real surefire way to avoid Nazis for example is to have a rule about contamination; if Nazis even like this thing, it's not "safe." SEO will drive the Nazis to wherever you are if you like *anything* that shares a latent space with Nazis.

You either have to keep running until you find something they are categorically Not Into or you have to somehow learn to interact in a space that contains Nazis (which can include all kinds of strategies, but none of them will 100% remove Nazis from your existence.) This is downstream of SEO and marketing silos, and is a massive failure mode of most of our life being online. Radicalization pipelines worked differently before the internet.

Web 2 has actually created a public world where nothing can even be engaged.

1980s talk shows' formats of doing hard hitting investigative journalism or interviewing Nazis or what have you, couldn't really exist in this context because we've come to see "sharing latent space" (being in the same room) as a broad social taboo and under the New Social Rules, even arguing is platforming. But I think a chunk of this is downstream of SEO and of internet-first social interaction, because of how much post-Web 2 online interaction *does* require a bit of an eggshell walk. Unfortunately, it means there is a massive amount of stuff that can't really be talked about in the open. And we have lost a half century of work done just to secure that very thing, to get people talking in the open about real problems. And for the most part, now, you just can't talk about anything.

Web 2 has turned every conversation into a contextless public square argument between people that, in the past, you could just... not invite to your space.

[dailycharacteroption]

Hybrid Class Review: Investigator part 3

(art by LaminIllustration on DeviantArt)

Archetypes

The investigator boasts an interesting set of archetypes, so let’s dive right in! I tend to divide these archetypes into four categories.

Perhaps the first group I’d like to go over are those investigators that are still expressly detectives while dropping the alchemy in favor of other specializations. Perhaps none is more iconic here than the sleuth, which feels like it was made specifically to be a non-specialized detective that drops alchemy entirely in favor of having a pool of luck to help them through the day. Meanwhile, the Jinyiwe focuses on divine mandate and gains spells from such a source, while the Psychic Detective instead uses psychic magic and their sensitivity to gain clues and insights as well as defend themselves. Scavengers also exist which use quasi-magical gadgets instead of alchemical potions, and the Questioner augments their interviews with bardic magic. Additionally, Spiritualists (the archetype, not the class) channel the spirits of the dead to gain answers, while Malice Binders turn witchcraft lore against the wicked.

Of course, some investigators keep the alchemy while still having their own specializations as detectives. Bonded Investigators make use of a familiar ally, for example, while Steel Hounds are never without their trusty firearms. Ciphers investigate by being supernaturally unnoticeable by those that would stop them, while Cult Hunters and Infiltrators both finds ways to find and put a stop to secret societies and insular groups. Others specialize in gleaning secrets from the dead, such as Gravediggers and Dread Investigators, though their methods differ. Empiricists use unfailing logic to defeat deception and trickery, while Profilers use psychological profiles to determine suspects. Forensic Physicians are trained to glean secrets from the dead in a more mundane manner, while Skeptics use their keen senses and knowledge of parlor tricks to reveal fake hauntings and deal with the real ones. Meanwhile, Guardians of Immortaility, Lepidstadt Inspectors, and Ruthless Agents are known for their dogged pursuit of their goals. Finally, Hallucinists use mind-altering substances to reveal the truth, while Lamplighters reveal with alchemical light sources.

Of course, there are some so-called “investigators” that actually deserve investigation of their own, notably the Conspirators, who hide their activities and deceive others, and the Masterminds, master manipulators that can coach their allies on plans in advance.

While plenty of investigator characters may not actually be professional detectives, some of these archetypes are expressly not that while still using their brilliant intellect. Some are scholars and archaeological collectors, such as Antiquarians, while others study mysterious beasts like Cryptid Scholars. Meanwhile, Cartographers and Star Watcher, who study their charts for very different effects, are also a possibility. Engineers create inspired devices, while Holomog Demolitionists destroy with shocking precision and cunning. Utterly ignored but shockingly competent is the Majordomo, who serves dutifully and organizes those under them to great effect, while Tekritanin Arbiters put their brilliant minds to resolving conflict. Natural Philosophers meanwhile study nature directly, while Portal Seekers study the realms beyond the natural. Finally, Reckless Epicureans test their experimental formulae on themselves, while Toxin Codexers specialize in understanding poisons even beyond the standard investigator’s knowledge.

As you can see, these archetypes come in all shapes and sizes, but all in the end fall back on the core theme of the investigator, which is finding the truth. That truth may be the mysteries of a crime or misdeed, or they may be more esoteric such as scientific advancement, occult mysteries, and beyond.

That does it for today, but tomorrow I’ll share some thoughts on the class as a whole.

[georgevilliers]

ages ago I did a numerology report on nicholas and it was maybe even before rwrb came out?? I can't remember but anyways I decided to revisit it because I feel like we've learned a lot about him lately and I wanted to see how I felt about it now

(disclaimer that this is not meant to be serious or intrusive on nicholas's life, this is just for fun and interests sake and I am not taking anything here too seriously!)

Starting off really strong with his life path 7 number...WOW. So many things here resonate with ideas he has expressed recently:

Those in life path 7 are curious, analytical, spiritual, attentive, and lone wolves. They enjoy solitude and prefer to work alone. They require time to contemplate ideas without the intrusion of other people’s thoughts.

He very recently expressed how he likes going to out to eat alone because it allows him to process his thoughts and fully enjoy the meal and his surroundings!

When a 7′s life is balanced they are both charming and attractive. They can be the life of a party, and enjoy performing before an audience, and displaying their wit and knowledge. This makes them attractive to others, especially the opposite sex, however they do have distinct limits. They can be generous in social situations, sharing attention and energy freely, they also need to return to the solitude of their privacy. They associate peace with unobtrusive privacy.

I feel like we've seen a lot of this lately! He is very good at going into the spotlight and being very charming in interviews, and he is certainly attracting a huge following. And he recently expressed how he has found himself in need of setting boundaries for fan interactions especially as he feels he owes his fans a great deal but he wants to preserve his privacy and his normal life!

Onto his birth date, 29:

They have fine minds and keen insights, but these do not come as a result of logic or rational thought. They are more likely to direct their lives by inspiration, rather than by calculated reflections.

This to me feels reflective on how Nicholas works, and how he treats acting. In the same article I linked above, he mentions that his acting is very "instinctual" and how he learned a lot about the technicalities from Julianne. Because he has no formal acting training, it makes sense that he would be relying on instinct and "vibes", if you will, rather than logic or technicals.

Despite their sensitivity, they possess leadership abilities. They are modest, diplomatic and polite. Their high sensitivity to others makes them compassionate, kind, and gentle. They have an opportunity for fame and success as long as they look for ways to help others and convey a larger message.

This whole paragraph really speaks to me with regards to Nicholas! His high sensitivity is what likely makes him a great "instinctual" actor, and we have seen his compassion and kindness in many situations. I also feel like he is extremely diplomatic about his answers to many questions.

Onto his Pinnacle Cycle (pinnacle cycles refer to periods of learning in ones life, and Nicholas is in his second phase!)

This is a time of specialization. They will pursue some course of development with fervor and focus.

Their intuition is much more sensitive, making their path a little easier and more direct, since they will know intuitively the appropriate next step.

To me this is speaking to his career! He is definitely focusing in and making really amazing choices with his acting, and it seems to be instinctual for him, much like most things!

Nicholas is also in his second challenge cycle (like the pinnacle, this is a period of ones life and the main challenge they will face in that cycle)

negative aspects of the numerology challenge actually spring in part from positive characteristics they possess, especially their acute awareness and intuition. They are an antennae for other people’s feelings; they know before a word is spoken how they feel. This challenge makes them understanding and compassionate; they tend to have an enormous empathy for the inner turmoil of others and can do much good for people with emotional problems.

This is interesting to me, as he seems to be a very compassionate person, and it feels related to what I said earlier about him having to put up barriers or boundaries in order to protect his peace. I hope that means he is dealing with this period of challenge in a healthy way!

I have to put his whole hidden passion in here because all of it screams Nicholas to me!

Warm, generous, and compassionate. 9′s are often creatively inclined but it may not come out until adulthood because it was repressed as a child. They have a strong desire for insight and knowledge. They are emotional even though their feelings are not always sensible. They can get caught up in dreams. Blessed with oratorical abilities. They are driven to do their own thing and are very independent.

Compassionate again! I also feel like the first part is so true! We know Nicholas grew up in a sports background and that it took him getting injured and falling out of love with rugby to really get into his love of acting and music! I really feel like for the first 16-17ish years of his life, the arts were his hidden passion! And again with the independence lol (check out his podcast interview with Plot Twist for more on this)

There's a few other things in his numerology that I surmise are correct but they are mostly me making assumptions/guesses and are not based in real things we have learned about him so I will leave those out (until we learn more maybe...)

[datasciencewithpythonemexo]

Spring Boot Interview Questions: Prepare for Success

Spring Boot has become one of the most popular frameworks in the Java ecosystem, streamlining robust and scalable web application development. Whether you’re a seasoned developer or just getting started, acing a Spring Boot interview can be a significant milestone in your career. To help you prepare effectively, here are the latest Spring Boot interview questions that will test your knowledge and give you a deeper understanding of how the framework works. These questions will be beneficial if you're pursuing a Spring Boot Certification Training Course at eMexo Technologies, in Electronic City Bangalore.

1. What is Spring Boot, and how is it different from Spring Framework?

This is a fundamental question that often appears in Spring Boot interviews. Spring Boot is an extension of the Spring Framework to simplify the development process. It eliminates the need for extensive XML configuration and provides default configurations to facilitate rapid application development. Spring Framework requires developers to configure components manually, while Spring Boot auto-configures them.

By understanding this, you can highlight how Spring Boot training in Electronic City Bangalore at eMexo Technologies helps developers focus more on writing business logic rather than dealing with complex configurations.

2. What are the main features of Spring Boot?

Spring Boot stands out due to several features:

Auto-Configuration: Automatically configures your application based on the libraries on the classpath.

Embedded Servers: It allows the deployment of web applications on embedded servers like Tomcat, Jetty, and Undertow.

Spring Boot Starters: Pre-configured templates that simplify dependency management.

Spring Boot CLI: A command-line interface that allows you to develop Spring applications quickly.

Actuator: Monitors and manages application performance.

These features make Spring Boot an attractive option for developers, which is why the best Spring Boot training institute in Electronic City Bangalore emphasizes hands-on experience with these functionalities.

3. What is the role of @SpringBootApplication in Spring Boot?

The @SpringBootApplication annotation is a core part of Spring Boot, often referred to as the ‘meta-annotation.’ It is a combination of three annotations:

@Configuration: Marks the class as a configuration class for Spring Beans.

@EnableAutoConfiguration: Enables Spring Boot’s auto-configuration feature.

@ComponentScan: Scans the components within the specified package.

This annotation is crucial to understanding Spring Boot’s internal architecture and its ability to simplify configuration.

4. What is Spring Boot Starter, and how is it useful?

A Spring Boot Starter is a set of pre-configured dependencies that simplify the inclusion of libraries in your project. For instance, spring-boot-starter-web includes everything you need for web development, like Spring MVC, embedded Tomcat, and validation support.

Starters save a lot of time, as they eliminate the need to find and include individual dependencies manually. When studying at eMexo Technologies, you’ll get an in-depth look at the variety of Spring Boot Starters available and their importance in building scalable applications.

5. What is a Spring Boot Actuator, and how is it used?

Spring Boot Actuator provides production-ready features to help monitor and manage your Spring Boot application. It offers a wide array of tools like health checks, metrics, and auditing endpoints. The actuator allows you to easily monitor application performance, which is a crucial aspect of microservices-based applications.

6. What are Microservices, and how does Spring Boot help in building them?

Microservices are small, independent services that work together in a larger application. Each service is responsible for a specific business functionality and can be developed, deployed, and maintained independently. Spring Boot simplifies the development of microservices by providing tools like Spring Cloud and Spring Boot Actuator.

7. How does Spring Boot handle dependency injection?

Dependency Injection (DI) is a key feature of the Spring Framework, and Spring Boot uses it to manage object creation and relationships between objects automatically. In Spring Boot, DI is usually handled through annotations like @Autowired, @Component, and @Service.

8. How can you configure a Spring Boot application?

Spring Boot applications can be configured in multiple ways:

application.properties or application.yml files.

Using the @Configuration classes.

Via command-line arguments.

Environment variables.

9. What are profiles in Spring Boot, and how are they used?

Profiles in Spring Boot allow developers to create different configurations for different environments. For example, you can have one profile for development, one for testing, and one for production. You can specify which profile to use by setting it in the application.properties file or as a command-line argument.

10. What are the limitations of Spring Boot?

Despite its many benefits, Spring Boot has some limitations:

Lack of control over auto-configuration can sometimes lead to unexpected behaviors.

Increased memory usage due to embedded servers.

Limited flexibility in large-scale applications that require extensive custom configuration.

Addressing these limitations demonstrates that you have a well-rounded understanding of the framework and can make informed decisions about when and where to use it.

11. How does Spring Boot handle security?

Spring Boot simplifies security through Spring Security, which can be easily integrated into your application. By adding the spring-boot-starter-security dependency, you can configure authentication and authorization in a few lines of code. You can also customize login, registration, and session management features.

12. What is the role of the Spring Initializr in Spring Boot?

The Spring Initializr is an online tool used to generate Spring Boot projects. It allows developers to choose the dependencies and configuration options before downloading the skeleton code. This tool speeds up the initial setup phase, saving time and effort.

In conclusion, being well-prepared for Spring Boot interviews is crucial, especially in a competitive job market. Whether you're taking a Spring Boot course in Electronic City Bangalore or aiming for Spring Boot Certification Training, knowing these key concepts will give you the edge you need. At eMexo Technologies, you’ll receive hands-on training, not just theory, preparing you to answer interview questions and excel in your career confidently.

Join Now: https://www.emexotechnologies.com/

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Roland Fryer

Published: May 9, 2024

The anti-Israel protests on college campuses present a puzzle for observers of academic norms and mores. Today, even relatively minor linguistic infractions, like the failure to use someone’s preferred pronouns, are categorized as abuse at many elite institutions, some of which even define potentially offensive speech as “violence.” One need not even speak to run afoul of campus speech codes; I recently participated in a training in which we were warned of the consequences of remaining silent if we heard someone “misgender” someone else.

Definitions of “harmful” speech have become so capacious that one assumes they include antisemitism. In some cases, they surely do: A university wouldn’t take a hands-off approach to a student or faculty member who expressed prejudice against Jews in the manner of Archie Bunker or the Charlottesville marchers. Yet that’s what many of them have done when faced with protesters’ speech that is offensive to Jews, even when it crosses the line into threats, intimidation and harassment.

At a December congressional hearing, the presidents of Harvard, Penn and MIT struggled to answer when Rep. Elise Stefanik (R., N.Y.) asked whether “calling for the genocide of Jews” violates the schools’ “code of conduct or rules regarding bullying and harassment.” Two of the presidents lost their jobs, but the central question remains unresolved: How could it be that the university is zealous about policing pronouns but blasé about the advocacy of hateful violence?

For someone who prides himself on adherence to fact, reason and rationality, trying to follow the logic of university decision-making over the past five years has been a mind-bending experience. But universities are also political entities, where competing interests vie for influence over the function and purpose of the institution. In the case of the protests, two competing interests have made themselves heard most loudly: students and faculty who are hostile to Israel and alumni donors who see the protests as antisemitic. Caught between them are administrators, who must figure out how to balance these interests without entirely losing the faith of either group.

This dynamic can be explained by economic theory. In the early 1970s, economist Michael Spence introduced the concept of signaling, which has since become one of the foundations of information economics and earned Mr. Spence the 2001 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics. This seminal concept helps explain how individuals and organizations communicate their attributes or intentions in situations of information asymmetry.

The best-known application is the job market. Employers and potential employees face a situation in which applicants have more information about their productivity than the employer, since the employer can’t directly observe those qualities before hiring. To overcome this asymmetry, job seekers engage in signaling—taking actions that can credibly convey information about their abilities. Such signals include everything from educational credentials to the way the applicant dresses for an interview.

When I encountered Mr. Spence’s model in graduate school, I was mesmerized. My doctoral dissertation extended his work to understand underinvestment in education in some black communities. The basic economics also seem applicable to what’s going on now on college campuses.

The key idea is that the protests present university administrations with a two-audience signaling quandary: Behaviors that appease students may anger alumni, and vice versa. Like a job applicant’s potential productivity, university administrators’ political preferences are hidden from students and alumni, but they may signal them in various ways. They may choose a liberal commencement speaker rather than a conservative one, they may create programs that emphasize “inclusiveness,” and so on. Students and alumni observe these strategic disclosures of preference, and each group decides whether to accept the decision or agitate against it.

University administrators whose preferences align most closely with their alumni will ignore the students and simply do what they think is best, as the University of Florida’s president did when he banned encampments and declared that the school is “not a daycare.” Those whose views align with the protesting students will do the opposite.

But most top administrators don’t have such strong preferences. They will engage in a high-wire act of trying to appease both students and alumni. If students decide “safety first” is the most important initiative on campus, administrators—even if they disagree—will adopt stances consistent with that and hope the alumni don’t revolt too much. If a few months later students set up encampments and chant anti-Israel slogans, then administrators will also adopt stances consistent with that and, again, hope the alumni don’t complain too much.

The congressional hearings revealed that this signaling strategy was at work. The three presidents would risk alienating students if they disavowed anti-Israel slogans and alumni if they endorsed them. So they offered lawyered-up equivocations that signaled confusion and weakness.

Economic theory can explain why the situation on so many campuses has spiraled out of control and why no interested party—neither students nor donors nor seemingly anybody else—has anything good to say about how administrators are handling the protests. But economics can’t address the more essential issue at play, which is moral. Elite universities decided years ago that they would adopt a basic principle: Any speech act that attacks, questions or even declines to affirm the self-understood identity of another constitutes harm worthy of punishment.

I may not like that principle, but it’s now a fait accompli. And if you’re going to punish one person who violates it, you have to punish everyone who violates it. To permit attacks on one identity group while prohibiting attacks on others is worse than hypocrisy—it is profoundly immoral. If administrators had the courage of their stated convictions, if they had principles rather than merely gestures meant to signal their status as good liberals, the most egregious antisemitism on campus would have been stopped before it could snowball.

Mr. Fryer is a professor of economics at Harvard, a founder of Equal Opportunity Ventures and a senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute.

[acillianproblem]

do you think tommy would be able to survive in the hunger games? Like he'd go through the reaping ceremony get chosen, and then go through the nerve-wrecking interviews, go to training and get a score, then get put in the arena?

(I might've accidentally spoiled some of the earlier book parts, do you think he could get through it?)

Oh yeah definitely.

Here’s my logic:

He spent a portion of WWI digging tunnels under where soldiers were fighting and fought in two of the deadliest battles in that war (Battle of Somme is said to have over 1 million casualties across both sides, roughly 400,000 just on the British side, in 4 months. Battle of Verdun had almost 700,000 casualties in 7 months. Battle of Mons was a little over 6,000 casualties in 1 day). These battles took place in all weather, not to mention being underground and risking those tunnels collapsing on top of them.

So, since he was capable of all that so I think Tommy could realistically survive the Hunger Games. I think he would hate being part of the pageantry and used as a prop; he’d be more interested in becoming a Capitol citizen.

This was a cool question, thank you!

[phvle]

Psychosophy Descriptions — FELV

The bearer of the mental type "Borgia" is an interesting interlocutor and actor, peaceful, charming and conducive to communication, outwardly attractive and often in his youth a very handsome person.

In his youth and in the first half of his life, he is called a "holiday man", an artist, a charming handsome man or a charming beauty (some vulgarity is noted). Pleasures, a feast, material well-being are more important for him than spiritual and social values.

The internal setting of carriers of the "Borgia" type: money, carnal pleasures rule the world. There is no such thing as too much of money; happiness is the amount of money and material objects owned. With all you can agree with the help of cunning and charm.

Features of manifestation in character and behavior: mercantilism, a tendency to hoarding and luxury, to excesses in food, the need to satisfy carnal pleasures; propensity to receive bribes, stinginess, laziness, apathy, "thick-skinned", idleness, solidity in places of permanent residence, the desire to own real estate, expensive cars, jewelry, good-quality clothes, shoes, accessories, etc.; focus on one's own misunderstanding, and caution in conclusions, a permanent dispute with no result; fear of public speaking and arguments; tendency to ask clarifying questions; verbosity, pauses in conversation, use of parasitic words, interjections. Teachers call a student, a carrier of the “Borgia” type, a slowpoke in a class or training group. Instead of a simple solution, he offers several complex ones. Passion for mental activity and at the same time a hidden rebellion against it determine the complexity and originality of the thinking process. Such a person is not easy to speak in public. Sometimes he is jokingly called a chatterbox (if he has the courage to speak in public). He feels insecure in the logical realm, in interviews, discussions, concise formulations, in choosing one solution from several possible ones. It is important for him to have people around him whose advice he can rely on.

In ordinary communication, a person of the “Borgia” type is an excellent conversationalist, verbose, artistic, emotional. He has a simple sense of humor. He is an emotionally uninhibited person. His emotions are free and adequate to the moment of communication. He is a good actor, easy to trust and interested in a variety of issues and problems.

A person of the “Borgia” type is not confident in himself and does not hide it. It is more convenient for him to be led, subordinate, sacrificial in everyday affairs and events.

By vocation, carriers of the “Borgia” type are show business artists, theater and film actors, generous lovers, sellers, realtors, and promoters. They are practically non-existent in the scientific community.

Source: The16Types

[rubykgrant]

(This took ENTIRELY too long to write, I've been struggling with it for a week or two; Andrews' into for her interview with Sarge. he will naturally try to derail all her questions with his own ramblings, but she pushes to keep him on track, revealing some of the depth he doesn't want to admit he has. Sarge is a stubborn soldier, a mad scientist, and the Reddest Red to ever Red! he also kinda sorta cares about all these annoying jerks he's stuck with. I've been re-writing and editing this for a couple days, because I wanted it to give little hints about what the entire interview holds, and cover all the weird layers of Sarge~)

“It is difficult to know where to begin when trying to describe the collection of unlikely heroes known as the Reds and the Blues. However, if given the chance, one member of the group would point out that Red comes first in the title, therefore the place to begin with would be the Reds. This same individual would also insist that when talking about the Reds, the leader should naturally go first. That is, himself. Sarge. It is both his name and reputation, though arguably not his actual rank.

Sarge has been a military man for most of his life, but he was fighting in a war that wasn’t real, leading a team only meant to provide simulation training for other soldiers, who themselves were lied to about the purpose of their missions. That is only the peak of this proverbial iceberg, but through it all, he has certainly lived up to his title. Anybody who has known him for an extended period of time, or even just talked to him for about 20 minutes, could confirm that back in Blood Gulch, Sarge was the only one who took the fight between Red and Blue seriously. It was his purpose, and set the pattern of his behavior during the years that followed.

In his quest for victory, he often overlooks the flaws in his own plans, be they over-complicated or incredibly straight-forward. Sarge tends to live by his own rules and follow his own logic, believing himself to always be right, regardless of any evidence to the contrary. Sarge has also pushed the limits of what can be done with limited resources, from weapons to robotics. Sarge doesn’t let things like mechanical capability or the laws of physics stop his grand aspirations. Despite being a natural instigator who thrives on conflict, Sarge has also proven to be surprisingly adaptive when it comes to working with others for a common goal, even if they were previously considered an enemy.

Sarge’s most impressive qualities as a leader are found in his rare, yet significant, moments of compassion. Although he isn’t always willing to give compliments, he notices the positive traits in others, even when it isn’t clear to themselves. In particular, he has seen the worth of his fellow Reds, and the Blues, at a personal level. More than just appreciating their value as soldiers, he knows their habits and quirks, and has managed to motivate them in the face of dire situations. He trusts them, even if they were insubordinate underlings, even if they were renegade Freelancers out for blood, even if they betrayed him and stole his robot, even if they were the Blues he swore to hate until he died. He trusts them, and he believes in them. This is perhaps what makes Sarge a good example of what to expect from the Reds and Blues- they are unpredictable, and Sarge is proud to be part of that.”