#that was the tittle of my thesis

[conspirartist]

Revisiting the character designs I did for my barchelor thesis (part 1/3). The older version is bellow the cut. I tried to stay as close as possible to the original designs, as I still think they work very well...

Anyway, meet Peter, a silver-tongued ghost punished to work as a bartender in his after-life.

[un-father]

My brother has been working on his thesis, is about the effect of alternative diabetes treatments on older men (50+).

Working tittle:

Effect of alternative treatments on Sugar daddies.

[banannabethchase]

That Jeff Goldblum one...how do we think Lucha would react to Nick's thirsting?

1) Watching Jurassic Park and discussing Jeff Goldblum and that specific shirt he wears (we all know the one)

(you are THE WORST for this one HOW DID IT COME TO THIS IT WAS A JOKE)

~

In His DNA - also on AO3

~

Luchasaurus, it turns out, is a little jealous of the way Nick is lusting after Jeff Goldblum in That Shirt as they watch Jurassic Park.

~

You know the funny thing is I technically did this to myself by creating this prompt for Sarah.

Disclaimer: I don't know what Luchasaurus wrote his undergraduate thesis on, and I doubt it was on monastic same-sex intimacy, but mine was on gender presentation and the methods by which gender roles and expectations were subverted both in action and in the literature of the time, so we're pretending he did the same thing for the sake of authenticity.

Tittle from DNA by Little Mix.

~

It happens first when Jeff Goldblum shows up on the screen in the helicopter, Nick thinks. He shifts in his seat.

"Not into the movie?" Lucha asks, throwing his arm around Nick's shoulders again.

"I am," Nick says, almost too quickly. "Gonna see some of your relatives?"

Lucha laughs, almost darkly, and pulls Nick practically in his lap. Nick expects nudity within seconds, but Lucha turns his face back to the screen, focused. "Not quite," he says with a sigh. He moves Nick around on his lap like he weighs nothing, something that sends an interesting spark down into Nick's dick, but still, Lucha does nothing. Doesn't even try to cop a feel.

So Nick turns back to the screen. Lucha lets out a wistful sigh as the first dinosaur appears. Nick thinks, maybe, he understands it. He felt a similar way the first time he watched The Wrestler.

He squirms again when Jeff Goldblum starts saying, “Life, uh. Finds a way.”

“Jesus,” Lucha growls.

“Are you mad that I find Dr. Malcolm hot?!” Nick asks, incredulous. “Everyone thinks he’s hot!”

“He’s arrogant and his shirt is ridiculous.”

“He’s smart, not arrogant,” Nick says, settling back against Lucha’s chest. “And he looks good. With a chest like that, who wouldn’t show it off.”

“I like your chest,” Lucha says, nuzzling into Nick’s neck. Nick finds himself pulled down against Lucha, nothing but two tee shirts between skin, and he wants to grind down into Lucha’s lap, just a little, just to remind himself of what he might get later, if he’s nice. “And he’s nothing special, my little bird.”

“Oh, come on,” Nick says, because he will not stand for this Dr. Malcolm slander. “He’s the only one standing up to this rich guy! All of his arguments are right.”

"What, you think that's interesting?" Lucha asks. He grabs Nick's thigh and spins him so Nick has his back to the TV, thighs splayed across Luchasaurus' lap. "You like a man with his priorities in order and the guts to say what he means?”

"He's smart and hot," Nick says, trailing a fingertip down Lucha's face, down the mask. "What can I say, I have a type." He's sure to lick his lips, nice and slowly. "Intelligence turns me on."

"Want me to turn you on by talking about the imagery of Ganymede in 16th century monasteries as a representation of male-male intimacy?" Luchasaurus asks. "Or would you rather me talk about the archaeological progress made in the discoveries of dinosaur mating habits." He leans in, bites at Nick's neck.

"I think I know a whole lot about dinosaur mating habits," Nick manages, gasps caught in his throat as Lucha’s hand slides up his neck, circling him like a necklace. “Mm, like – like how some dinosaurs like to fuck their boyfriends over side of the couch.”

Lucha stills. “Boyfriends, huh?”

Nick processes what he’d just said. “Oh. Um.”

“Sure,” Lucha says. “I’ll be your boyfriend,” he laughs a little. “Long as you’ll still call me ‘Daddy’.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Nick says automatically. “Of course.”

Lucha hauls Nick up and throws him on his back onto the couch. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it, little bird,” he growls.

“No, I really do like Jeff -”

Lucha dives down and kisses Nick so hard his brain spins, tongue in his mouth with single-minded determination. Nick keeps his legs hooked around Lucha’s waist, a thrill up his spine as he can feel Lucha’s hard cock rub up against his thigh. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

Nick barely gets a chance to blink before Lucha pulls his shirt off over his head then wraps a hand around Nick’s. He looks up to meet Nick’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Nick says, breathless, “yeah, I hate this shirt.”

Luchasaurus rips the shirt down the middle, and the rush of cold air on Nick’s bare skin is immediately quelled by the raging heat as Luchasaurus presses the two of them together. Nick’s hands fly to his Lucha’s belt and he pulls it out of the loops, pressing the heel of his palm to Luchasaurus’ erection.

Nick grins at the animal sound from Lucha’s lips.

“You be careful, or you’re gonna get more than you’re hoping for,” he says, leaning down and sucking a devastating bruise into Nick’s neck. He arches into it, desperate to connect their bodies in more places.

“Not possible, Daddy,” Nick says with a wink.

Lucha pulls away. Nick’s miserable for a second, then elated as Lucha grabs him by the hips and yanks him off the couch, turning him so he’s half draped over the arm.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you,” Lucha growls. He yanks Nick’s pants down without a warning. “Wait right there. Don’t move.”

“I – what?”

Nick turns his head to see Luchasaurus staring him down. “I said don’t move.”

“S-sorry, Daddy,” Nick stammers, but he does everything he can not to grin. “I’ll be good.”

“I doubt that.”

Nick watches as Luchasaurus leaves the room, and he waits. And waits. It feels like hours, though, logically, he knows it’s no more than a few minutes. He feels vulnerable, jeans down by his ankles, as the anticipation builds. All he wants to do is call out, check in with Luchasaurus.

But Nick was told to be good. And, even if he can’t do it, he’ll try.

Finally, Luchasaurus walks back in the room, looking like a Greek god as he stands, naked, in the doorway. Nick’s mouth begins to water as he gets an eyeful of Lucha’s cock.

“Look at you, little bird,” Lucha says, walking to him slowly. Nick almost feels hunted, like the characters on the screen. “You did as you were told.” He reaches out and slides his hand into Nick’s hair, pulling it back, just a little. “Good boy.”

Nick lets out a wanton moan at that, unable to keep up the act anymore. He wants Lucha and he wants him now, and anything but that might tear him to pieces.

“So pretty,” Lucha says, and Nick feels Lucha’s cock slap against his ass. He wiggles back against it. “Oh, no, that’s not what I want to see right now.” He palms Nick’s ass. “Don’t rush, baby, wait.”

“Please?” Nick whimpers. “I don’t wanna wait.”

Luchasaurus laughs, directly in Nick’s ear. “You don’t want to,” he says, “but you will.”

Nick whimpers again, but he says nothing more, knowing he’ll get what he wants if he just waits. It feels impossible.

There’s a wet, slippery sound, then Nick feels thick, blunt fingers slide between his cheeks, and something damned near relief washes over him as he realizes what’s happening.

“Can I, little bird?” Lucha asks in Nick’s ear. “You don’t know how badly I want to be inside you right now.”

“Yes,” Nick hisses, pressing back against the fingers. “Please, yes. Fuck.”

“Oh,” Lucha says, amused. “You do swear.”

He slides his fingertip along the rim of Nick’s hole, then slowly works Nick open with slow pumps of his hand, adding another finger, then another, all while Nick wails in desperation.

“Please,” Nick gasps. “God, please, fuck me, Lucha, I need it.”

“Who do you want to fuck you?” Luchasaurus asks.

“Daddy, please,” Nick practically sobs.

“Okay,” Lucha murmurs, “because you asked so nicely.”

Nick falls against the couch as Lucha ever so gently pushes his way in, as he finds himself filled in the way he’s been aching for ever since he get to Lucha’s house. “Thank you,” he hears himself saying. He doesn’t mean to, but, then again, he never meant to fuck AEW’s resident dinosaur, but here he is.

“You’re so welcome, baby,” Luchasaurus says.

His thrusts are slow and deliberate, and pick up once Nick gets some of his bearings back, like Lucha knows when Nick needs to be taken apart.

Nick forgets how words work for a while, wanting to speak but not sure how, and sinks into the feeling, into the mind numbing bliss of getting railed into oblivion by – by his boyfriend.

He turns his head to see Jeff Goldblum, sweaty and shirt open, and laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just,” Nick gasps, “Dr. Malcolm looks hot in this scene, you know?”

Lucha gets rougher, harder, slides a hand into Nick’s hair and pulls him back, just enough to get that kind of ache in Nick’s spine. “Yeah? You want him? You wish he was fucking you?”

“No,” Nick says, eyes fluttering shut. “Only – only you, Daddy, only want you.”

“Yeah,” Lucha mutters, gently lowering Nick back down so he can lean on his arms. “Only me.”

Nick’s close already, but the way Luchasaurus gently runs his hand down the middle of his back, a touch so tender it feels like a promise, gets him seconds away so fast it’s dizzying.

“Can – can I, Daddy?” Nick begs. “I need to.”

Luchasaurus pulls Nick’s hips back, pulls Nick so Lucha’s cock sinks so much deeper into him, then wraps a hand around Nick’s cock. Two strokes, that’s all it takes for Nick to come all over the couch with a cry so loud he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t in heaven.

“Mine,” Luchasaurus growls, and he pulls Nick onto his cock and comes, deep inside Nick. He can feel it filling him up, and he twitches, overstimulated.

“Yours,” Nick promises.

Lucha’s always so gentle as he pulls out, as he scoops Nick up and settles him on the couch. “Hey, little bird,” Lucha says, caressing Nick’s face. “How are you?”

“Great,” Nick says, a little laugh following his words. “So great. I – yeah.” He beams at Luchasaurus. “You’re kinda hot when you’re jealous, you know that?”

“Jesus, you don’t learn, do you.” He leans in and kisses Nick forehead, though, so Nick thinks he’s probably not in trouble.

“Look, Dr. Malcolm is lounging all slutty,” Nick says with a grin.

“You’re insufferable.”

Nick shrugs. “Yeah, you said that already. Do you want to tell me more about that monastery thing?”

Luchasaurus pauses from where he was about to walk into the kitchen, probably to grab Nick a warm towel like always. “You – are you serious?”

Nick nods. “Yeah, that sounds kind of interesting, you know?”

Luchasaurus lights up. “Yeah!” he says. “I wrote my undergraduate these on the same-sex desire present in the architecture and literature around monasteries.”

Thus begins the weirdest pillow talk Nick’s ever experienced. Lucha takes Nick’s hand and walks him to the shower, and washes Nick’s hair with surprising zeal as he says words like Ganymede and Hellenistic and oblation. Nick shuts his eyes, letting it wash over him, and makes affirming noises whenever Luchasaurus pauses.

“I love the enthusiasm,” he mumbles as he starts to feel the exhaustion wash over him, “but I want to remind you I was homeschooled and wrestled instead of college.”

“That’s okay,” Luchasaurus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Nick’s wet and clean head, “thanks for listening.”

“I always like listening to you,” Nick says, and he leans back against Lucha with a giant yawn. “Maybe you can tell it like a bedtime story.”

“Yeah, little bird,” Lucha says, turning him. He leans down and kisses Nick so gently Nick nearly swoons. “I’ll tell it to you like a bedtime story.”

~

Mini Playlist DNA - Little Mix Animal - The Cab Inside of You - Hoobastank ...and the Jurassic Park Main Title - John Williams

Working titles: Jurassic Pork Life, Uh, Finds a Way Hold Onto (Nick's) Butt!

[highestfloor29]

Hello tumblr, it's been so long. It's been a very hard days.

This past few days, weeks, and month i've realize that life's no longer going well and mostly unexpected. One of the unexpected things happen from my beloved Profesor which also my Thesis Advisor. Lately i've been thinking WHY is She not correcting all the wrong things i did in my thesis. I was expected that she's going to ripped up all of my paper, cause i know that everything i wrote down there were bullshit. I litteraly want her to mocking at my topic and expect me to change my thesis tittle, but the thing is She didn't do much. Yet she read all of the things i wrote but she didn't said it was wrong while i know it was totally a piece of trash. She didn't accept and i always have to change even just for few words. I just thought that this revision doesn't make any sense. I saw all of my colleague's paper and all of their revision were all make sense and thoughtfull. I am so confused right now and i litteraly don't know what to do. I really need a second advisor but it's not happening in my major now. I guess i have to be the advisor for myself. We're going to get through this phase. I wish there will be an alternative that could recognize this whole thing. All this time I always think that if it's not her then who will be my advisor, i really couldn't think of somebody else. Actually there is someone that i could probably think of and maybe this will do but i'm too afraid to face him.

12-10-2023

[hopeheartfilia]

me picking the logical problem about emotions that has spock in the tittle: ah yes, star trek and neurotransmiters, sounds like my sort of theme

Im. not a big fan of the authour and I think its kinda a silly work to be doing a logical analysis on because the thesis is so meandering that frankly its hard to pinpoint what exactly it is or the point of the spock reference being there in the first place! Outside of capturing the readers attention and engaging their interest via a familiar charater of course, but thats not really making an argument in favour of a point. ah. hate it when people try analysing works of fiction without acknowledging them as such and instead treating them like a thought experiment.

First of all spock is half human, so half the questions posed frankly dont say shit about anything. also the major point the authour seems to be making is that aiming for rationale with a lack of emotions above all else is kinda dumb, basically. Like yes i agree with this. however idk spock has never been emotionless. spock being peak stoicism just immediately sounds like an incorrect premise to me. hes emotional!

idk i mostly remember star trek by my mom watching it a lot when i was younger and also whatever ive consumed via osmosis but like. why would you even need to prove spock has the capacity for emotions? obviously he does???

[oopsoulmates]

okay so i’m officially a graduate and done with uni!!!

[silent-redemption]

5th Arc Update

Hello, Mod Infinite here!

Last time I make a post was in August, I expected to start the 5th Arc there too since we have almost everything ready (the introduction post is lined and flat colored, and the chunk of info we have to tell is ready so we can adapt with the upcoming asks), however things got busy-er for both mods and that lead me to think about making this post.

By the time Mod Gadget and I make the Silent Redemption AU we were both in college, and as time went we begin to finish that cycle.

Last year was my last year of college, I (Mod Infinite) had to concentrate on my thesis project and put a lot of things aside, my number one priority was graduate and get my tittle. My thesis got approved and my graduation delayed because of the pandemy and riots- but I did it and I have that weight out of my shoulders now.

This year is Mod Gadget’s turn to go through that, this is her final semester at college and all her concentration and energy is directed to her thesis presentation right now. It is a stresfull time to go through, specially during this difficult times (pandemy being one of them).

We work on Silent Redemption together, dedicate our time and energy to organizate and tell this story in chronological order (which is very hard to me), and I dont want to give Mod Gadget more weight and responsabilities to take care of when she is already full. 

So we decided to push the start of the 5th Arc to after she is done with it. That being by the end of November or December (depending of how much the thesis will drain her, I personally had to take 3 days out to rest)

We will keep working on our things and come back stronger as ever! I promise to not let this too abandonated as we wait for the 5th arc

Thank you for your patience and support

-Mod Infinite

[rahenning]

A Clockwork Orange

      A Clockwork Orange is a 1971 Stanley Kubrick ultraviolent masterpiece that tells the story of the criminal young man Alex DeLarge (Malcom McDowell). Alex is the leader of a gang of delinquents who kill, rob and rape in London –UK. Alex falls into the hands of the police and in jail gets an opportunity to reduce his time in prison. He began to be studied and participating in experiments focused on curbing destructive impulses of the human being. Alex developed a reaction to the stimulus he was subjected to but also became powerless to deal with the violence that surrounded him. The film is an adaptation of Anthony’s Burgess’s 1962 novel of the same name. The film has a different ending than the original book.

When talking “A Clockwork Orange” it is a must to talk about its director Stanley Kubrick, his aesthetic, photography and music in film. Kubrick is considered by many one of the biggest genius in the history of film. He dominated all the possible genres in film creating real masterpieces. Stanley was very interested in the human being and theirs falls, desires and secrets. One of his biggest desires with his films was to be provoking and controversy but in high quality. His films are easy identified. His film’s aesthetic were always built after an extensive research based on books, documentaries, and thesis. Kubrick wanted to make sure he was the biggest authority in its themes once he stepped in the film set. The director was also known by never having the scrips ready and sometimes making alterations right before filming it. He was constantly writing and changing lines. Prior to beginning his path as a director, Kubrick was a photographer, it helped him to have all the knowledge to know how to get to the results that he intended. He had a very technical knowledge and worked with his own camera and lenses. But his equipment was minor compared to his eye. The vanish point is one of his most important characteristics in film. All was seeing in image, the architecture, the position of the actors, colors and all the details were well thought by the director. He liked to give the audience all the information possible in the scene but without telling where the information is. All the camera movements and actions had a reason to happen working in a subjective way giving the audience a chance to interpret by themselves without having an explanation connected in the film. His films works like a puzzle to the audience.

Another piece of Kubrick’s puzzle movies is the music. Stanley knew the power of music and how it could be used to build the films premise. He liked to use classic and often create it. In “Eyes Wide Shut” for example, the music is one of the main elements to create the tone of the film. Kubrick’s have done allegory about our society in his films, in the desire, in the violence, in war, in secrets and insanity. When “A Clockwork Orange” film was released a wave of violence and crimes began to surge in England with young people saying they got influenced by the movie. Kubrick not just took the film off the cinemas but also prohibited it in England for 25 years. “The Shinning”, “2001: A Space in Odissey” and “Dr.Strangelove” are great examples of Stanley Kubrick’s works.

       The aesthetic of “A Clockwork Orange” is full of neobaroque references. Baroque is a lot more than just a period in history of culture. Baroque it is also an aesthetic term and stylistic concept. The blaring, shining and plastic colors. Everything is colorfully aggressive and exuberant. The furniture and decorations are grotesque and often sexual with naked white woman elements on it. The characters clothing also follow this premise. Alex’s mother (Sheila Raynor) is a strange motherly figure who wears nylon and fluorescent wigs. Her clothing contrasts the father (Phillip Stone) which clothing tries to bring a more conservative idea to the audience. His attitude and attire contradicts with the exaggeration of the elements in his house.

     The camera movement, editing, slow motion or fast forward effects also adds to create this cinematography experience to the audience. A good scene to amplify this matter is the scene when Alex have sex with two women in his room. As mentioned before, music plays an important role in Kubrick’s films. In “A Clockwork Orange” the audience listen to a mix of electronic synthetic and classic music with Beethoven 9th Symphony and the well-known Gene Kelly’s song “Singing in the rain”. The soundtrack of film was done by Wendy Carlos. One of the most known scenes in the movie is the one that Alex and his gang invades a house and in a performance way while singing “Singing in the rain” begins to assault, terrorizes and sexually abuse Mr. and Mrs. Alexander (Patrick Magee and Adrienne Corri)  . His movements are slow and sudden to the point that each time that he suddenly hurts them, the audience can feel how much more painful it is not just because of the actual physical assault but the psychological terror created by him.

         One of the screenplay’s scene that brings more discomfort to the audience is when Alex begins his treatment and experiments with the doctors in the prison. Alex was subjected to a series of treatments focused on the Ludovico radical behaviorist method. A fictional aversion therapy. With this technique, Alex had to be strapped into a chair with his eyes wide forcedly open, drugged and to watch ultra-violent videos that could trigger his violent self. This way each time the videos trigger his emotions, he develops a stomach and mental discomfort causing him nausea and vomit. The doctors also played a video with his favorite song, the 9th Symphony. Every time Alex listen to this song he would have the exact same reaction as if he was experiencing a violent act. Alex treatment is successful in the eyes of the doctors and society. Although it transformed him in an individual incapable to defend himself when the violence was being directed to him.

     The author of the original book once said “If he can only perform good or only perform evil, then he is a clockwork orange—meaning that he has the appearance of an organism lovely with color and juice but is in fact only a clockwork toy to be wound up by God or the Devil.” – Anthony Burgess.

    The tittle of the film explains a lot about the screenplay. The organic and natural of the orange and the engineering and mechanic of the inside of the clock. Alex experiences this transformation from an organic human being with the good and very bad in him and shifts to this programed mind person. His mind begins to work conditionally and mechanically.

      “A Clockwork Orange” does not deserve less than 5 stars. It is a true masterpiece, full of controversy, hard to watch elements and a lot of culture behind it. My personal and only negative opinion is on the age of the main character. Alex is living a high school delinquent student on his 17 years old. The actor was 27 years old at the time and it shows. His gang friends also did not look like a 15-17 years olds young boys. It bothers me a little and does not give me an idea of a high school student. Overall this film is very important in the history of film, such as most of Kubrick’s works.

[silverxcristal]

Today it was my Thesis Defense’s day, I work on my Thesis Project all year, I felt proud, I felt frustrated, but I learn from my mistakes and did my best to create the Illustrated Book I wanted. 

Today I presented the project to my teachers, who would decide if my project was worth to gave me the Illustrator tittle. They liked the idea, they were impressed by how much I grow as an artist and saw potential in my idea, I manage to tell a story with my art.

Today, after 4 years studying I finish being a Illustrator Student, today im a Professional Illustrator.

My degree is in process (my diploma) but thats coming this 2020! As for now, I am done, and I couldnt be happier!!

I am so thankfull for this! And I want to give a special thank you to YOU, my followers! I’ve posting my art on Tumblr since the begining of the decade, you have been following me and see how my art had grown and develop with time, I’ve grown as a person too and I owe a lot of it to you and your feedback! Your likes, your reblogs, replays and follows have motivated me to keep going, to want to make my hobbie my passion!

[stainandscribble]

Mocha

Pairing: Jongdae (EXO Chen) X Reader feat. EXO

Genre: Coffee Shop AU, fluff, one shot, 

Summary: Two years ago you published your first poetry anthology, and since then your publisher and editor have been pestering you for another one. Forced to work towards a deadline, you find a nice little coffee shop, and just as you set off to write your second masterpiece, a certain barista catches your eye, or rather the book he is reading does. Will inspiration find you among the coffee foam?

A/N: Excuse my poor attempts at poetry. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4426

You sat in front of the desk in the cluttered office, your editor’s work space littered with manuscripts and unsigned contracts.

The editor sat at the desk, looking through her computer, ready to whine about your lack of submissions recently.

The publishing company had asked for you to complete another anthology after the first one had turned out to be a hit. But that was two years ago, and they were rather impatient for your second book. You wanted to give them another anthology. Truly. But there was just one problem. You had no idea what to write about. You had finished your literature degree last year and proceeded to work full time as a journalist, reviewing books and reporting on other writers. Your name had faded from the spotlight shortly after the first book. Now you worked behind the scenes, pushing forward other writers, helping them to not fade the way you did.

But that was not satisfactory for your editor, who had encouraged you several times to pick up the pen. You just could not make yourself do it. No words spilled from your fingers. This time, the inkwell had run out, and you were in desperate need of inspiration and motivation.

Ironic, since you had spent every waking moment focused on writers and writing.

“Y/N,” Susan looked at you pointedly, “Just thirty poems.” She was practically begging, but you knew that she was your biggest support right now, so you kept quiet.

“Don’t you have anything at all?” She asked once more, and you cowered slightly under her intense gaze. The problem was not that you didn’t have anything, it was that you didn’t have anything that was appropriate for publication. Sure, poets are supposed to bare their soul for everyone to see in their work, but you wanted to be comfortable with what you put out. After two years, you wanted to come back like a breath of fresh air, the cool yet fragrant breeze of spring.

“I have a few.” You finally surrendered, thinking about the three poems that were acceptable enough to be made public.

“We can make those work. Just make up the number.” Susan’s mood instantly brightened at the news.

“How much time would you give me?” You asked, much more positive than when your editor was glaring daggers at you from the other side of the desk. Sometimes vising Susan’s office was on par with visiting the headmaster, if not worse. 

“Four months. That is the most I can offer you.” The dark-haired woman looked at you over her specs, her whole body showing she was back to talking business.

“I can try.” You reassured her, but it felt more like reassuring yourself. It had been two years. You sincerely doubted any one who once liked your poetry had long since moved on and would not even recognise your name on the book cover.

“Fine. Go.” Susan stood up and urged you out of her office. “Go. Find some inspiration while you’re at it. Go out, get drunk. Do something.” She insisted, waving goodbye as you disappeared down the corridor.

“Can I get a cappuccino?” You asked the smiling barista, who happened to be incredibly handsome, with soft features, full cheeks and cat-like eyes. His eyes were shining brightly when he saw you.

“Sure.” He smiled a bright smile before he turned to his work station.  The café was quiet, the only noises were the soft instrumental music in the background and the tinkering of the barista.

“Thanks.” You muttered when the barista set the coffee in front of you. You managed to get a look at his nametag and made the conscious effort to remember his name: Minseok.  

You took it to an empty table and sat down in one of the plush sofas, surrounding yourself with the variety of cushions. Everything in this coffee shop had a beige-brown aesthetic going on, broken at times by the lush green of the plants the baristas were cultivating. You could see various ferns, a few Christmas cactuses were in fool bloom, as well as a couple of azaleas. Despite the cold and harsh winter outside, the flowering plants had made the inside of the quiet coffee shop feel like spring, and you felt right at home in the calm and inviting atmosphere. After sipping on some of the coffee you ordered, you got to work, bringing out your laptop and a scrap notebook you used for ideas.

Three coffees later, you had gotten about two poems in, and they weren’t even that good. Mostly, your time in Black Pearl had consisted of staring at a blank notebook and stealing glances at the other patron sitting in the coffee table next to yours.

“Are you okay? You have sat here for five hours now.” He turned to you, breaking you out of your own thoughts.

“Is that a problem?” You asked, and your voice held a little too much attitude.

“No. It’s just a little unusual.” He answered, smiling, the corners of his lips turning upwards. His straight brows accentuated the unwavering gaze that rested on you. This man looked like he could have sonnets silently calling out his name, whatever it was. His golden skin reminded you of all the poems you have read about the sun, golden and glistening.

“What is that, a thesis?” He pointed out the blank word file on your laptop, one of his eyebrows had risen to accentuate the question that fell from his lips.

“No. I’m not a student.” You answered, his voice cutting your thoughts short.

“Work?” The handsome stranger leaned a little closer towards you. To be quite honest, you were enjoying the break he was giving you from ogling at the blank screen in a feeble attempt to come up with some ideas.

“Yeah. Second job.” You told him, and his demeanour changed from playfulness to pity. He looked at you apologetically, probably thinking that this job was a nightmare, since you were sitting, working for a solid five hours on a Sunday. He would not be far off. With the deadline looming over you, it felt like you were a part of some thriller.

“Tough” He shook his head, looking at you in disbelief, with a hint of awe in his warm brown eyes, glistening in the soft light. All you could do is compare them to the bindings of old books, the kind you hold gently in your hands, the kind you run the tips of your fingers over, feeling the soft material that has preserved the words inside for far longer than you had been on this blue little planet.

“You have no idea.” You muttered, still lost in the depths of his eyes, found again only when he looked away.

He returned to his book, and as you turned to your coffee cup, you almost did a double take. There, this handsome man had hidden himself behind a book you were far too familiar with.

“Leaving and Returning” The tittle read, and your name screamed at you like a painful reminder of the blue ink that had once stained your fingers. Your first anthology.  

“Hey Jongdae! Want another coffee?” You watch as Minseok calls out into the almost empty shop, and the man that had just spoken to you lifts his eyes from the pages and smiles brightly at the barista.

“Make me a mocha!” he calls out, and the two exchange smiles before returning to their tasks.

A few more hours pass by, and its has long since turned dark outside. You gather your things, ready to return to your home and call it quits for today.

“You’re leaving?” The man, Jongdae, has asked, rising one eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, I have to catch the bus home. Bye.” You give him a little wave and a small smile, which he reciprocates with a grin.

“Bye!” he calls out behind you just before the door closes.

Jongdae watches as you leave, smiling to himself. Today had been a nice day. There were very few customers that passed through the shop today, and he had the pleasure of reading his favourite book whilst sipping on Minseok’s coffee, which by all means could be called divine. There was only one thing that puzzled him about you; the way you had sneaked glances at the book he was reading, and the fact that he could swear he saw you scowl at it at one point. Did you really hate the poet so much? What did the poor college student do to you? 

It has been about a week since you had visited the coffee shop, and within that time you had allowed your publishing company to announce that you were writing again.

“Fine. Announce that I am writing another one.” You had told Susan during one of your visits to her office. You were ten poems in, and you had scrutinised every word you had put down at least thrice. It was a good time to announce your come back into the poetry scene.

And so, your publishing had put out a statement saying you were coming out with a new anthology, and that more information would be announced at the beginning of April, still four months away. This meant that your deadline had shortened slightly, but that was good enough for you.

It was another slow day at the Black Pearl, and around lunch time the guys had gathered around the empty tables, huddling over steaming cups of tea and coffee with various snacks sprawled between them. Jongdae was checking his phone, smiling to himself.

“What are you so happy about?” Minseok asked, looking at him over his coffee cup.

“His favourite poet is writing another anthology.” Jongin answered for him, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder at his phone screen, where the publishing company had announced that Y/N is writing another anthology, and that more information should come out in early April. Jongdae himself was grinning from ear to ear at the news. He had read all the poems Y/N had put out, including the anthology, as well as the various poems that had been published as parts of collections and in writing magazines. He had kept all the excerpts safe in a notebook.

“That’s the big deal?” Chanyeol asked, his mouth full of food.

“This is her second anthology. And it took her two years to announce she is writing again.” Jongdae had answered, looking up from his phone, and reaching over to grab another handful of crisps.

“Why do you think she stopped?” Kyungsoo sips on his coffee, pulling the stained copy of the first anthology towards him. He flicks through the pages, stopping from time to time to scan over the black inky print.

“She wrote it in college.” Jongdae responds, and the guys nod in understanding, fully aware of how hard and demanding degrees are, and just how drained student can be. They used to be students themselves after all, and they had seen students in their café, sitting for hours on end, writing up assignments and essays and reports, fuelled only by coffee and desperation.

“She probably had other things to worry about than some rhymes.” Kyungsoo concludes, putting the book back on the table.

“So, I guess the Chalkboard will have poetry verses again.” Baekhyun mutters, shoving forkfuls of strawberry cake into his mouth, washing it all down with some sweet tea.

The next morning, Chanyeol and Junmyeon find Jongdae slouched over the blackboard with a chalk pen, making sure his calligraphy looks perfect.

“I will bloom,

In the most unexpected places,

My roots will break through into the soil

You cannot be rid of me.”

The white chalk read, and the guys leaned over Jongdae to see better.

“Nice.” Junmyeon commented, tying the black apron around his waist as Chanyeol started setting up for the day. Today just happened to be the day before new year’s, and many people had come to the town for the night life. This meant that soon their coffee shop would be busy again with people coming in for morning coffee.

“Let’s decorate the shop with some flowers while we are at it.” Chanyeol called out from behind the counter, holding up some vases that they had stashed away in a spare cupboard.

“Get Yixing to do it.” Jongdae tells them as he places the blackboard in its designated spot.

“I’ll call him.” Junmyeon pulls out his phone. It would be the most convenient to ask Yixing seeing as he was still on the way here and could get the flowers on the way. 

“Make sure he gets at least three bouquets!”  Chanyeol calls out before he disappears in the storage room. 

“Oh No.” You muttered. It was nine thirty in the morning and you were already fed up.

“My youth still haunts me.” You mumbled bitterly at the chalkboard sign at the entrance of the Black Pearl, that had become like your second home over the last few weeks. There, written beautifully in white chalk, was your poem, glaring at you, silently judging you gawked at it.

“Do you know the poet?” The barista looks at you with a smile on his face, clearly happy that you had recognised the poem.

“Yeah. I’ve read a few of her poems.” You mutter, hoping that he will not try to continue this conversation. You were not in the mood to talk about your past writing. Especially not this early in the day.

“She recently announced she is writing again.” The barista continued, attempting to lure you into the conversation.

“Jongdae over here is having a breakdown over the announcement.” He pointed at another barista. And to your surprise, it just so happened to be the man that had silently accompanied you from a few seats away for the last few weeks you had been visiting the café. You smiled awkwardly, acknowledging them both, before the barista motioned for you to give him your order.

“One mocha please.” You told him, still a little awkward. Jongdae got to work, and after waiting a few minutes, you received your coffee. You thanked him, before going to sit in your usual spot, which was thankfully vacant. Since it was just before New Year’s, the town was bustling with people, and so was the café that had been practically empty for the few weeks you have been here.  Once you were seated, you look at your coffee, and to your astonishment, the milk foam had a snowflake pattern on top. It looked very pretty, and you thanked Jongdae silently for drawing it for you.

The snowflake, jogs your memory, takes you back to the time when you were a child, and the snow was magic. You remember joy, and weightlessness, and your grandmother putting your clothes to dry on the radiator. You remember the simple joys of childhood, the ones that you pushed away when writing the first time. But this time, you won’t make the same mistake. So, you write, frantic not lose your thoughts to slow moving hands. You write about the softness of the snow, and you write about love, warm and gentle, taking you back into her arms again and again.

“Hello.” Jongdae broke you out of your frantic train of thought, smiling at you brightly, his teeth showing.

“Hi.” You told him, a soft smile spreading on your lips.

“How is the work going.” He asked, but instead of looking at your notebook, he looks over at your untouched coffee.

“It’s going well.” You told him, happy about the progress. He flashed you another smile, before it fades away.

“Do you not like the coffee?” he asked, concern thick in his voice. You wanted to laugh. You look over to the untouched cup, and know that it is probably strange to him, that you had not taken even a sip yet.

“It’s been an hour.” He informed you as you stared at the cup.

Sheepish, you gave him a little smile. “I got lost in my work.”

“I’ll make you a fresh one.” He smiled, before picking up the cup and walking behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You smiled when he brought you a fresh cup, Jongdae flashed you a grin in return, before settling at the table beside yours, and pick up his book. This time, it was not your anthology. The white cover read “The Sun and her Flowers” and you smiled excitedly. It was one of your favourite anthologies. Jongdae noticed and sat at your table, discussing it with you over fresh coffee. You stayed like that until it was time for you to catch the bus home. 

The boys were closing up Black Pearl, sitting around the cleared tables, this time they had devoured a pumpkin pie, and only a slice remained for Junmyeon, who had left to sort out things with their accountant.

“The roast you brought is good.” Minseok complimented Yixing, who was making himself an americano.

“I want an affogato while you are at it.” Baekhyun called out, leaning back in his chair.

“You are a barista why can’t you make it yourself?” Jongdae told him without looking as he continued to water the plants.

“Because food tastes better when someone else makes it for you.” Baekhyun whined, and Jongdae smiled to himself, as an idea popped into his head.

Ten minutes later, him and Kyungsoo were hiding behind the counter, laughing.

“This will be hilarious.” Kyungsoo laughs, his shoulders shaking, as he looked down at the café affogato standing on the counter as Jongdae put a little tub into a cupboard.

Baekhyun picked up the coffee dessert and a spoon, oblivious to the eyes that follow him. 

“What is this?” He whined, spitting the dessert into a napkin. 

Kyungsoo and Jongdae burst out laughing. 

“Shortening.” Jongdae exclaimed, informing his friend gleefully that he got it from Baekhyun’s girlfriend next door. 

“The look on your face is worth wasting the coffee beans.” Kyungsoo told him, as the other guys laughed, Chanyeol going as far as to hit Jongin in the arm.

“You are so mean!” Baekhyun shouted.

You had come back to Black Pearl a week after New Year’s. This time Jongdae had drawn a tulip into your milk foam. It was a pretty little flower, complete with long leaves. When his shift finished, he had sat at your table, the coffee stained anthology under his arm, and throughout the rest of the day you had gotten lost in the scattered papers and various redrafts. That night, Jongdae and his co-workers had invited you to stay with them after closing and had even given you a slice of apple pie they had been given by Baekhyun’s girlfriend. You had stayed so late in fact, that you were about to miss the last bus home. In the rush of goodbyes, and putting your things away, you had lost track of what you had taken, and what had stayed behind on accident.

And fate just had it that you had left something very important.

When Jongdae returned home from work, he found that the copy of Leaving and Returning was not coffee stained like his was. The cover had its original colour, it was a little worn out, and the binding had gone soft after being bent too often. There was not a single stain on it. He did discover, when he had flicked through the pages, that they were not clean.

Jongdae knew this book was yours, since you were the one that stayed behind with them. You had become a regular, and Jongdae had taken a liking to you. You enjoyed the same books, you both liked flowers, and he thought you were lovely over all.  So, when he got your book in his hands, he flicked through it, just out of curiosity. He didn’t really expect to find anything, initially. Plenty of pencil annotations littered every page. Some words and verses had been highlighted with a pastel highlighter.  His warm brown eyes fell on a single line, at the very end of the book.

“I shall return to you like a spring breeze, and you will see me in the blooming flowers, as I, like all else, am born anew.”

That was when it hit him. You were Y/N. The author who wrote the anthology was Y/N Y/L/N.

Jongdae started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. How could he not realise this before?

He had watched you stop and stare at the chalkboard, he had watched you for weeks as you drafted and redrafted work, writing your second anthology. With all this evidence before him, he had just never connected the dots. Who would? 

The next morning Jongdae watched you walk into the shop, eyes searching frantically for something, until they fell on him. He didn’t know why his heart started beating, a little faster, a little stronger than he was used to, or why his usual easy going nature escaped him for a split second, but he did know that when you did walk up to him, a copy of his anthology in your hands and a sheepish smile on your lips, he was braver than when he woke up this morning.

 “Sorry I took your book by accident.” You told him, passing him the worn, think book. He took it from you, smiling happily.

“I took yours, Y/N” He had reached over the counter to give you back your equally worn out copy. Jongdae gave you a knowing smile, his eyes glinting as they looked over your face.

Your eyes widened in realisation that he knew. Jongdae knew who you were. He knew that that book he has read time and time again, the one he stained with coffee and softened with use, was yours. You had written it.

“It’s okay, since we managed to return them to their rightful owners.” You told him, mimicking his knowing smile, noticing that over his shoulder, the other two baristas, Yixing and Chanyeol, were watching your interaction with curious gazes.

“It’s her.” Yixing mumbled.

“I told you!” Chanyeol exclaimed, a little too loudly, but you and Jongdae paid him no mind.

“I was right.” Chanyeol repeated, this time quieter, making the both of you laugh. Sheepish, Chanyeol and Yixing returned to their work, laughing quietly.

“All those scattered papers, they were poems, weren’t they?” Jongdae asked, sitting you both down at an empty table.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, apprehensive about what is to come next.

“Were any of them love poems?” He asked, and you smiled at the unexpected question. Of all the things you thought could be possible, that was not a question you were prepared for.

“A few.” You looked away from him, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

“Who did you write them to?” He asked, a playful smirk graced his lips, as his eyebrow rose, inviting you to answer.

“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” you replied, a smile playing on your lips.

Over the following months, you and Jongdae continued your usual routine. He read beside you, as you wrote. You two drank coffee together, and even went out for food a couple times. From time to time, the guys from Black Pearl invited you out to their get togethers, usually when Baekhyun’s girlfriend came with him. They were all lovely, and not to mention hilarious when left alone without supervision.

Soon enough, the weather warmed up, spring passed, and summer came in full glory, golden rays falling down from the sky as you sat outside of the café, enjoying the affogato without the burden of deadlines looming over your head.

Jongdae had just returned from somewhere, and he stopped by your table before entering the café.

“Here.” You handed him a little package wrapped in light pink paper “It’s a present.”

He smiled at you, unwrapping the gift, before looking back at you. wrapped in the pink paper was your second anthology – Love and Revelation. The off-white cover had an illustration of a bouquet on it, stylised to imitate art on milk foam.

“Turn to page 47” You told him, smiling at the expression of utter awe and adoration painted over his sharp features.

“The Love – Coffee stains” He read aloud, before losing his voice completely at the words, printed in black ink on the page.

“The smell of coffee surrounds me,

And I am reminded of you,

Of how your passion leaves physical stains on books,

I stand astonished

Of your warmth,

Of the colour of your hair,

And the hue of your eyes,

Sparkling amber,

Coffee boy,

Golden man,

Ask me again who the love poems are for.

         -       I have written all of them thinking of you. “

The warmth that spread through his whole body rivalled the summer heat, and he was set on fire in the gentlest way possible.

“Is that what it feels like to be loved by a poet?” Jongdae murmured, looking from the book to you. You stand up to match him, taking a careful step closer, before whispering against his lips.

“If you allow the poet to love you.”

“Depends.” He answers, his lips softly brushing yours as he speaks.

“Will she accept my love in return?” He wonders, looking you straight in the eyes, and you can see the confidence gleaming in them, warming you up from the inside as your cheeks turn red. You both laughed, and when you are done, you took the first step, confidence matching Jongdae’s as you kissed him, lips pressed firmly against his own. You were unwavering, sure of your love for him, and his love for you.

“Love and Revelation” Jongdae muttered against your lips and were left breathless when he kissed fully.

“What a good title.” He concluded, looking deep into your eyes, seeing the love they held for him, drinking the sight in the same way he drank coffee.

[procrasinator]

[PLAN WITH ME - MARCH]

Lazy version.

Senior student with internship and thesis.

1. Calendar is a must and I note down important things.

2. Information and To-do list. I'm too lazy to do any tittle so I just write capital letters with big gap and highlight them, font difference is a tip to make it less boring.

3. Information about my internship and I have to finish the report this month. I also note down what is important.

4. My Thesis page is just one, thanks to the last 2 months I already have the introduction and conclusion, so now I really have to be logical with the structure. That's the only mission in March.

Spending list next to thesis, I have some plans for my thesis so I need money. I just randomly write a silly title for it.

5. Ideas for my silly things and I also add a page for my plans, like action plan page things and time I have to do, if Idk the time I leave it blank.

How do you think about my bujo this month?

Please let me know :D

Thanks a lot (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

[7iaras]

Several days ago, accidentally I saw this book at the entrance of Gramedia and I was never doubt going there. Then, a guy approached me (as i knew that he was the staff) and said if the book was the #1 best seller at that time. I don't know, once I red the tittle, my intuition said "you need this tir!" as i am over-thingker person. Hmmm. Its been a looong time since I bought a book for my thesis.

So, my intuition guided me to take the book and walk to the cashier. Now this on my hand and lets be my weekend-mate :)

[arachaa]

WHAT SHOULD I DO ?

Whats good ? Been a while since i throw my trash life story in this heavy loaded dump called social media. So these days i've been busy organize my thoughts and heart to be able to start over, before this laziness eat me up alive. Actually i felt so betrayed with my own effort, this is my 2nd times to felt that way. I asked permission from my parents to finish my thesis in Bandung to focus for 3 months but failed. it is hit my heart. I feel like crying, screaming, angry with myself and want to slap myself while shouting "Is that all ? Your life is so useless, isn't it?" I swear to god never in my life i felt this helpless, pain and want to disappear so no one can remember a thing about me.

Ujian pertama kehidupan yang emang gue rasa berat dalam sudut pandang gua. I try my best not to compare my life with others but it is so damn hard to do. I know i should be able to stand up and start all over again since i only have time in my hands dan alu cuma bisa mengandalkan diri sendiri.

Sejak pulang dari bandung, aku belum menyelesaikan skripsiku lagi. Aku rasa akan memulai kembali wish me luck and send a lit of prayers please, may He ease this journey of mine to get the tittle and start to figuring out what i want for life serta terjun dalam work force society. Aamiin

[lobopoetryrec]

Some said that he never laughs

and when he tries to smile, only grimaces.

That’s what a friend told me awhile back. She wasn’t acquainted with him either, I was certain the description was just tittle-tattle. Sure, he was not the friendliest of figures I’ve ever seen but I’m sure he was just busy all the time, after all he was indeed the student who gained a scholarship off his brilliant grades and was already writing his masters thesis along with everything else. I think it suits him. You know? Spending the whole day on the library, the deep scowl he always wears when he’s talking to a teacher and the fact that I’ve never really seen him talking to anyone else – except maybe for the blonde petite girl that always brings him coffee on lunch breaks and stays there with him for a bit, savouring her own drink; and also a tall skinny guy that looks as nerdy as he is and they seem to understand each other fairly well. The last time I tried to sneak into some of their conversations I heard a chat about the properties of phosphor regarding inflammable garments. I must admit I didn’t really pay attention to the topic because shortly after I arrived, he spoke to me for the first time.

I was reading whatever book I caught on the shelf when he said “We should go discuss this somewhere else” looking sideways at me. His friend took the cue and started heading out when I said a little louder than I intended “Please don’t be bothered by me!”. He snorted playfully and replied directly at me this time “It is you who should be bothered by us, my lady”.

After that they left and I just kept standing there with the book hanging unread in my hands. He looked so bright when he said that. At ease. Calm, even. Nothing like the scowly personality I’m used to seeing. The formality at the end was another surprise. He saw me as a lady, he recognized that about me. Not everyone did. I was happy at that – at all of that. I think that was when I fell for him.

[acemywriter]

Preliminary list of sources(literature review)-Climate Policy in Qatar and the MENA region: Success and Failures

Preliminary list of sources(literature review)-Climate Policy in Qatar and the MENA region: Success and Failures

-I’m A Master’s degree student—public Policy major (Environmental and Energy policy). -I’m working on a capstone project(Thesis)—Tittle: climate Policy in Qatar and the MENA Region: Successes and failures. -I will upload a proposal of my capstone project, so you can have an idea about the project. -I want you to help me with the literature review. you already found nine sources, and I would be…

[me-is-turbulent]

the last time i met my advisor she offer me to changed my thesis tittle but really i dont have any idea. i... dont see any point why i should do this. why we must do this to graduate. okelah tridarma perguruan tinggi. tapi mengingat profil lulusan yang selama ini cenderung lebih ke teknis, iyakah relevan dengan bikin "penelitian"