#//this was also sent to the plus ones as well :)
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lady-menrva · 2 days ago
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Can we take a moment to talk about the recurring “it’s not problematic / offensive, it’s quirky” theme throughout all the three series? The entire discussion would get too long so I’ll just split it into parts and throw the spotlight on PJO here:
• ADHD and Dyslexia as superpowers: Just no. This has always rubbed me the wrong way. Want to include representation? Be real and sensitive about it. He barely even portrayed or talked about it in detail. A lot of the time, it just seemed plain derogatory and tokenist.
• Artemis and her “badass” hunt: In hindsight it seems straight up predatory and objectionable. What do you mean she mostly recruits young girls who don’t even have well-developed decision making skills. People have come out and talked about how it also seems to mirror unethical recruitment of young children in real life.
• World War II as a plot point: This has been talked about before, and I’ll throw in my two cents- the Second World War was one of the most tragic and impactful events in contemporary history, with a complicated background and multiple sides at fault. Watering it down to some conflict between demigods is unacceptable and disgusting.
• Camp halfblood in general : Camp halfblood is also just child soldier central, just like Camp Jupiter. Children were sent out to die on a routine basis in the name of heroism long before the conflicts with Kronos. The fact that this is never acknowledged or changed is just horrid. They could stay safely in the camp atleast for some time but what is the need to send them on quests? And please don't come to me babbling about how Percy challenged the gods about this, when he himself was a puppet for the next 5 books and counting (plus, even in trials of Apollo the child soldier system doesn't change). Or about how gods can't intervene, when they in fact, can.
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onlygenxhere · 20 hours ago
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A conversation between me, @innytoes, @missjoolee, @floating-in-the-blue, and @jatp-spinsb about that grindr post that went around a while ago about needing a screwdriver and not a hookup has led to a Juke version of that prompt. (I didn't think there was one) I'm not sure what to call it.
It was a lazy Saturday morning and Julie was cooking herself some bacon and eggs scrolling through the dating app Flynn had talked her into installing last night after her third glass of wine.
When the talk had turned to how long it had been since she’d been laid her best friend had insisted this new app was the way to break her dry spell. It was marketed as a dating app but was more popular for being the hetero version of grinder. On the plus side the men couldn’t message the women till they messaged them first. It was sexist as hell but when it came to a possible hookup Julie appreciated it.
She sighed as she swiped left on a guy that listed sky diving as one of his favorite hobbies. “Hell to the no.” She muttered under her breath.
She’d actually forgotten all about the app until her do not disturb turned off at nine and her phone started pinging that there were a few matches within the default radius of two miles.
She paused on a pretty cute guy that seemed to be a little too fond of his admittedly nice arms when the smell of her bacon burning finally pulled her attention back to her breakfast that was about to be ruined.
“Shit!” She dropped her phone on the table and only halfway noticed Dahlia, her cat, jumping up as she moved to save her bacon from ruin.
“Dahlia down!” She scolded over her shoulder as she turned the stove off and pulled the bacon out, laying it on a paper towel.
The cat ignored her of course, continuing to sniff at her phone, as she went about making herself a sandwich with her eggs and bacon.
She took a bite and moaned happily as she sat back down, pushing Dahlia’s nose away from her still open screen and froze.
Apparently the cat had sent the guy with the arms a message and he had replied.
Several times….
Me Ooo kiiiop
Luke Oh thank god Hi Hey I’m not actually looking for a date or hook up right this moment Not that your picture isn’t gorgeous But my bathroom sink is currently overflowing and what I really need is a flat head screwdriver I’m not sure if I have enough towels to keep my apartment from flooding. Hello?
Well shit. If his apartment was anything like hers there wasn’t a universal cut off so he’d have to wait for maintenance to get there and, again, if it was like hers, he could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few days showing up.
She checked his location and saw he was literally on the next block over and sighed. Guess she was going to get her good deed out of the way for the day.
Me Be there in five
She wolfed down her sandwich as she pulled out her little tool kit her tia had gifted her when she moved in, grabbed an armful of towels and her keys and was out the door in record time jogging down the block in her bare feet.
She was headed up the steps of Mr. arms, sorry, Luke’s building when her phone pinged twice.
Luke You’re a life saver Apartment 3C
“Of course you live on the third floor.” She grumbled as she started to climb. Realizing halfway up she didn’t have a bra on. At least her tank wasn’t white.
She banged at 3C’s door with her elbow three times as she tried to catch her breath before it was jerked open and she nearly fell in.
Her first thought was maybe he had a right to be proud of those arms because his profile picture hadn’t done them justice.
He also hadn’t been soaking wet in that picture.
Floppy brown hair curling around his forehead and dripping down his face, pajama pants hanging low on narrow hips and a sleeveless t-shirt plastered to an equally impressive torso.
“Oh thank god!” He grabbed the towels and the toolbox out of her hands and rushed down the hall. “Come on in!”
She took a steadying breath as she stepped inside the apartment. It looked much like her own with only a small sofa, books and a decent sized tv in the small living room. But where she had her piano by her balcony door, he had an amp and guitar.
Julie shook her head and moved down the hall to the bathroom curious how bad the situation was.
She tried not to laugh as she peaked around the corner. There were wet towels everywhere and a literal spray of water coming out from under one of the faucets. Luke was on the floor with her screwdriver turning something she couldn’t see.
Whatever he was doing seemed to be working because the deluge of water started to slow and then stop.
He sat up with a sigh, pushing his wet hair off his face and smiled at her. “All better.”
She felt a throb between her legs and her nipples tighten. Fuck, that smile should come with a warning label.
“Glad I could help.” She smiled back at him as she casually crossed her arms over her chest.
He stood up, that smile never wavering and placed her screwdriver back in the little tool kit. He clicked it closed and passed it to her. “Can I buy you breakfast or something?” He seemed to finally be looking at her, probably noticing her lack of shoes, her flannel shorts and her tank top that she definitely had a bra on under. “Or can I make you breakfast?”
She shrugged. “Do you have a dryer?”
“What?” He laughed.
She waved at the mountain of wet towels all over the floor.
“Ah, no.” He sighed. “I’ll have to take them to the laundromat later.”
She bit her lip. This was probably a bad idea, or a really really good one. “I have a dryer.”
“Yeah?” He took a step toward her, his eyes twinkling in interest. “I already owe you for the screwdriver and now you’re offering the use of your dryer too. I’m gonna have to take you to dinner or something.”
She could swear his eyes dropped to her lips as she licked them. “Or something.”
He took another step toward her, forcing her to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.
She let her arms drop to her sides as he slid a hand around her waist ever so slowly, giving her all the time in the world to back up or say something.
Talking was not on her mind right now. All she could think about was that wet torso pressing against her thin tank top as he pulled her tight against his chest, and how she owed Dahlia a saucer of milk for her accidental text.
“Hi.” He breathed across her lips. “I’m Luke.”
“Julie.” She whispered as he closed the distance between them.
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dustysalmon · 2 days ago
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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 1
Pairing: Silco x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: graphic depiction of violence; slow burn; enemies to lovers Word count: 4,500
Summary: After a chain of unexpected events, Jinx is arrested, and you find yourself in possession of the gemstone. On top of it all, you are forced into a reluctant alliance with Silco. What else could possibly go wrong?
Takes up at the end of episode 7.
Read on ao3
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It is not the first time your unit has been called to assist at the borders, although it’s been years since topside ordered a complete blockade.
The panic had been evident on the councillors faces during the meeting that preceded your affectation. They fear the escalation of violence after the bombing in the city center as well as the murder of several enforcers earlier this week. There have even been rumours of an organised rebellion rising from the undercity, ready to strike multiple strategic places in Piltover. But those are just that, rumours. You have heard other rumours. Apparently, whoever killed those enforcers also decided to drop by the safe holds of the Council and steal something. The authorities have been suspiciously secretive about the ordeal, but you have a feeling it has to do with hextech. And the Council, usually quick to shy away from firm countermeasures, has made the decision to take a stand a little too rashly for your taste. This, plus the sudden removal of Heimerdinger’s seat at the table… No, there is something else at stake here, something bigger and perhaps more preoccupying than they are letting on.
And so here you are, on the south east bridge, among dozens of other enforcers. They don’t seem too aware or concerned about the actual reason for their presence, but they certainly appear to enjoy roughing up a couple Zaunites just for the thrill of it. Within the span of two days, you have already sent eight of your officers home. Young hot shots, mostly here to see some action and prove themselves in front of their comrades. People who shouldn’t be in the force to begin with, but the enforcers’ body always has and will continue to accept just about anybody within their ranks. It was a cesspool of violent and morally lacking folks long before you arrived and will remain exactly that for years to come. 
The majority of the officers mobilised for the Council’s big display of power isn’t trained to handle riots anyway, that much is obvious, and the entire situation is bound to turn to shit eventually. Regardless, you have traded your rifle for a good old baton, and encouraged your men to do the same. The firearm is tightly secured at your back— you’re lenient, not stupid—but the rioters have been fairly docile since the first barricades were installed, armed with nothing more than cardboard signs and harmless smoke bombs. Hardly a challenge at all, not to mention, you would like to avoid needless mayhem if you can help it. Your superior, Warren, strongly disagrees. Well, superior in name only; the man barely has any field experience, hardly ever steps out of the comfort of Piltover; a textbook office rat. If you had to guess, you would say this is the first time he’s actually come face to face with Zaunites. He has never hidden his utter repulsion for the latter— he usually refers to them as trenchers— and this new assignment is a godsend. He would drown them all in the gutter if he had his way. Halas, the Sheriff’s position was swept right from under his nose by Marcus, equally hateful and ambitious at the time. The years have tamed him for sure, although you still find it hard to explain his complete one-eighty when it comes to dealing with the undercity. Once, he was determined to give them hell, back when he was just a rookie, always babbling on about how he would handle the "Zaunite problem", and offering solutions (if you can call them that) that would have met quite the success among the most monstrous tyrants. 
When his impromptu promotion was announced, you had expected him to take full advantage of his new position and act on his threats. In fact, you had expected something very much like the events unfolding before you right now: blockades, raids, random inspections, an obnoxious display of strength—the whole circus. But instead, most of the troops had retreated completely from Zaun, leaving the undercity in a situation reminiscent of when Vander was in charge. The streets had been left completely unmonitored, allowing numerous gangs to rise and breed terror in the underground. Any sense of community ceased to exist in the blink of an eye, quickly replaced with defiance, greed and violence. Funny thing, that it took one man, one figure to hold a whole city together. Take him out of the equation, and an entire city is lost. And then came Shimmer, the final step that made all hell break loose. 
You had often wondered whether a complete occupation would have made a difference. In a way, you had your answer now. It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. The economy down there was frozen, leaving the poorest Zaunites in even worse conditions than before, if that was possible. Controlled chaos, that’s all this is. And the Council is probably looking at the current state of things and congratulating themselves on their good work. It has become routine lately, but once more you wonder what it is you’re doing here exactly.
In the cacophony you hear your name being called from the crowd and recognise a familiar face. Without a second thought, you strut towards the noisy crowd.
"I wouldn’t get too close if I were you." Warren says from behind you, eyeing the mob suspiciously. You offer him a snarky grin.
"What’s the matter, Warren, afraid of a couple sticks and stones?" You relish in the laughter that emanates from the group of enforcers surrounding him before Warren silences them with a death glare, his face red with both anger and embarrassment. When he turns back, probably to reprimand you, you’re already on the other side of the bridge. 
You walk past the last line of enforcers, the big ones, hidden behind their goggles and masks. Not necessarily the best intermediary for parlay or negotiations. You come face to face with an elder man, a fisherman’s hat screwed low on his head, just above his tired blue eyes. He hunches over the barricade towards you.
"How long is this gonna last? They just suspended all exportation of goods. We’re suffocating down here." He shouts, hands gesticulating in the air, but you can barely hear him over the racket.
"I know that, but my hands are tied here, Lou." You say apologetically. 
The economies of the upper and undercity are very much interdependent, even if that is mostly true one way more than the other, of course. Numerous Zaunites work on the other side of the stream, some fortunate and gifted kids have the opportunity to study in the University district. And while it is true that Piltovians prefer to rely on their own supplies and food, they import daily from the undercity, whether it be fish, brews, or local foodstuffs. 
Contrary to popular belief, it is not rare for topsiders to stoop to undercity level, although it is usually for more illicit activities. Shimmer consumption, human trafficking, money laundering, you name it. Needless to say that the blockade doesn’t impact topside nearly as much as it does Zaun. It makes no difference to Piltovians if it lasts for weeks, months, or possibly even years. But the undercity’s days would soon become numbered if the situation doesn’t evolve. 
A huge detonation is heard on the far side of the bridge and leaves your ears whistling for a few seconds. When you come to, there is a thick cloud of smoke rising from the same spot, but you can still make out the enforcers’ silhouettes as they charge into the protesters. Idiots. You barely have the time to turn back to Lou when another loud boom erupts. Then another. It’s really on now. You grab at the old man’s shoulder, a grave look on your face. 
"Go home, Lou. Now!" He doesn’t need to be told twice, still, you follow him with your eyes until he disappears from view. You realise only too late the tear gas canisters that have been thrown all around you. You reach for your mask but the gas is already stinging your nose and  assaulting your senses, it feels like your entire face is burning. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you struggle to pull out your goggles. The gas has settled in your eyes now, and the  eyewear obviously won’t change that, but you can’t think clearly at the moment and put them on regardless as you start to pull back to your squad. In the distance, you can hear Warren shouting hysterically, asking for more gas, more pressure on the line, always more. He calls to you once you are back in the safe perimeter.
"Sticks and stones, huh?" He taunts you, and you can clearly imagine his stupid face mocking you behind the mask. 
"All of this for a bit of smoke?!" You refrain from calling him a dumbass in front of everyone else, although just barely, but you don’t even try to hide the anger and exasperation in your voice. He can launch disciplinary actions if he likes, this whole operation is already a complete disaster, and he will suffer the consequences too. You throw a quick look at the mess happening all around you. Utter panic among the protesters, untrained enforcers, and an incompetent chief. And people will wonder what could possibly have gone wrong. You sigh. On second thought, let Warren drag you in front of the Council if he wishes, you will have a lot of things to say.
You blink the last of the gas from your eyes and gather your thoughts. So the protests have gone up a notch after all, that much is true. But you remain convinced that the blockade is bad news for everyone. You grab the megaphone and clear your irritated throat as best as you can while your colleagues prepare to launch another charge. This will not be a quiet night after all.
Two hours, that’s all the time you get before you are unexpectedly called back for duty. You gulp down a can of hot soup, hop into a fresh blue uniform, and you’re out the door. For the first time, you are stationed on the main bridge, where you’ve heard things tend to be more heated. It is a last minute change, and very little information is given to you about your purpose here tonight, but it must be important if the Sheriff’s presence is any indication. Typically, back-up is hardly ever needed at night fall, most of the protesters leave at around 7 p.m. and come back at midday. So it is without surprise that you find the bridge perfectly calm and silent, with a large group of enforcers standing by. They seem to be waiting for something, or someone. You rapidly go over some procedures with your squad and dispatch them at key locations around the area before finding Marcus. 
"So, what’s this all about, Sheriff?" You truly loathe to call him that, but the man likes having his ego stroked every now and then. Might as well play the good cop card in order to squeeze what you can out of him. You’re met with a suspicious and frankly condescending look. Whatever information it is you’re asking for, it would seem it is above your pay grade.
"We’re meeting someone. Your team is here to make sure it all goes smoothly."
Not much to go with, but the gears are already spinning in your head. Could it be that the person responsible for the attacks and the break-in in Piltover had requested a face to face in order to calm things down; seeing as the situation had escalated today. A request for parlay, perhaps, or a negotiation. You lower your tone as your address Marcus again.
"This whole thing," you gesture at the barricades on the bridge, "it’s about Hextech, isn’t it.?" His eyes grow wide, and the way he freezes all but confirms your suspicions. For all his ability to play the Council like a fiddle, the man had always had always been terrible at concealing his emotions. 
"How’d you figure that out?" He asks seriously. You snort.
"A raid in the Council’s stronghold? Let’s just say I seriously doubt that whoever broke in came for Heimerdinger’s book collection." You say sarcastically.
Suddenly, the spotlights come to life, and a masked enforcer joins the two of you.
"They’re here, sir." Marcus nods and turns to you.
"Get behind the second line, and stay there unless ordered otherwise." You are about to protest but he is already moving forward with a small squad. The audacity, to call you here during your off-hours only to have you hang back and away from the main event. Regardless, you start to back up slowly, keeping attentive eyes fixed before you. In the distance, two figures emerge from the evening mist, progressing towards the roadblock. The enforcers take aim and start walking too, meeting them in the middle with Marcus flanking them. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he seems awfully relaxed despite the nagging tension in the air. 
You end up much further away than you would like, but orders are orders. You squint painfully in order to catch whatever you can from the exchange. The two silhouettes are clearer now, thanks to the powerful lights; a young boy and a woman, unarmed and without backup, at least none that you can see from your position. Your eyes focus on the boy, on his outfit more specifically, and it takes you about a second to connect the dots. The mask dangling from his hip, the bandana tied around his neck, the big flying board strapped to his back. A Firelight. And not just any member of the controversial gang, this one is none other than the leader, Ekko. And next to him is— no, that makes no sense—Kiramman? You blink a few times. Surely your sleep-depraved mind is playing tricks on you. But it is her, Caitlyn Kiramman, daughter of senior councillor Cassandra Kiramman, and a very promising enforcer who suddenly went rogue not even a week ago, or so the Sheriff insisted. 
An enforcer and a Firelight, quite the odd pairing indeed, especially since the latter have recently been designated as the prime suspects of the recent attacks that shook Piltover at the core. Even though as far as you are concerned, the accusation makes no sense. You have yet to see the so-called irrefutable evidence that has been found against them, evidence which has never been officially presented, but led to the blockade of the entire city regardless. 
It had always been your belief that the Enforcement body put too much effort in fighting the Firelights. The only trouble they cause is against the Eye of Zaun’s production of Shimmer, which topside should be grateful for; if anything, the Firelights are doing most of the work for them. True, they had attacked a shipment over the city not that long ago, but it was clear that Piltover was not their target. It is something you have been thinking about for a while now, this obsession with the Firelights, when crime and Shimmer are the true plagues and spreading like never before.
From the distance you see Marcus ordering his men to stand back as he moves forward to meet with Kiramman and Ekko. No matter how many times you turn the problem over in your head, you can’t make head or tail out of this alliance. Although you have a feeling this little night encounter will clarify a few points. The young boy pulls some sort of protective cylinder from behind him, although he seems reluctant to show what hides inside. He opens it eventually, leading Marcus to inch closer in order to inspect the goods. There’s a pause, the party gauges each other out in apparent uncomfortable silence. Whatever the Firelight boy revealed has definitely caught the Sheriff’s interest, although not enough to conclude a bargain it would seem. Marcus just stands there motionless, as if weighing his options. Kiramman is talking to him now, you can only assume she is pushing for some sort of deal, an exchange perhaps, intel for intel. Money? Surely Marcus wouldn’t… You suddenly stop all conjecture/speculation and watch in complete shock as he pulls out his pistol and fires a single shot, square in the boy’s stomach. The latter collapses, forcefully projected backwards with the power of the point blank shot. 
Silence reigns on the bridge, save for a few crows cawing and flying away, the rest suspended in time, waiting. What the hell. 
Marcus is now aiming at a discomfited Caitlyn, a rare sight, and his men have started to move forward, getting in formation around the woman. They exchange words, but Marcus does most of the talking as Caitlyn looks too petrified to speak. Orders be damned, you leave the line of enforcers who are currently staring incredulously at each other, as shocked as you are. There’s a figure running towards the meeting point, it appears to be a woman, but you can barely make her out through the fog. What you can clearly see, however, is the swarm of small green lights flying at a rapid pace alongside her. Firelights. Hundreds of them, merging to the same location as if they had been summoned there. Then, the cloud of insects lingers above Marcus, Caitlyn and the group of enforcers before descending upon them. A small number reach past the center of the bridge, to you, and you reflexively bat them away. You’ve never liked insects, not from this close anyway, and certainly not in great numbers. Some enforcers hold out their gloved hands to allow the firelights to land, seemingly amused by the situation. Admittedly, it’s quite a pleasant distraction from what usually happens up there— or doesn’t happen. 
A tiny clicking sound emanates from all the bugs at once, like a detonation, and next thing you know, you are violently projected against the bridge’s bannister.
For the next minute or two, the only sound you hear is a numbing and constant whistling in your eardrum. You feel a hot liquid running slowly down the side of your temple, and your head is pounding like a jackhammer. Around you, bodies of enforcers lie limp on the ground in puddles of thick blood. You have seen your share of gruesome and violence, but can’t help the nausea that overtakes you as you scrawl through a sea of freshly detached limbs, the smell of copper filling your lungs. You reach an enforcer, one of the few still conscious. He is moaning in pain, mumbling incoherently as he holds up his arms, both severed at the wrist and forearm. Moans turn to screams as the realisation sinks in, you wonder if he knows his right leg is missing too.
As your hearing gradually comes back, you realise there is something going on at the centre of the bridge, where the explosions did the most damage. Gathering your strength and balance, you rise to your feet and progress towards it. More fighting it would seem. A shot rings in the air and lodges itself in a stone pillar just a couple feet away from you. You march on, unphased, a trembling hand hovering above your holster. You recognise the Firelight leader, who seems to have been untouched by the explosions, and facing him… Those long blue braids, that slender figure. Jinx. And the bombs all make sense now. There’s only one person in this city who would be capable of manufacturing such a weapon, and nobody makes anything go boom like Jinx does, all Enforcers learn that the hard way.
The two teens throw themselves at each other with a speed that makes the fight difficult to follow. Ekko quickly takes the upper hand, pinning the girl down with all his might. One, two, three hard punches square in the face, most people would have been knocked out cold by now, but Jinx struggles as best she can, until her body has nothing left to give. Ekko hovers over her, fist in the air, ready to strike one final blow to her blood-smeared face. But his hand hangs in the air, suspended in time, petrified. 
Your heart sinks at the disturbing spectacle unfolding before you. What leads two children to fight to the death and show such a level of animosity? You don’t have time to answer that question as another large detonation erupts at the exact place where Ekko and Jinx were fighting. 
The boy is the first to emerge, and it appears that the weapon got him good this time. He limps towards you and collapses in your arms. But the second he acknowledges your uniform, he starts struggling weakly against you, moaning in pain against your shoulder. The cries, however, have nothing to do with the physical pain. The stir from utter distress and despair. You don’t insist, and let him go gently, supporting him all the way. 
"You should go." You say as you hear the cavalry starting to make progress from the other side of the bridge. Took them long enough. Ekko, although his head is still pounding, manages a frown.
"Why?" 
"Your work is far from done, kid. Now get going." Your tone is firm enough to get the message across, but warm enough to convey that you care at least a little bit, and Ekko simply nods, peers at you one last time in mild confusion, before limping away through the fog.
A couple feet away, Jinx lies unmoving on the ground, and you pray that she isn’t dead as you approach and crouch beside her. Who knows what King of the underground would do if his protégé was to be taken away from him. The question is what would be obliterated first, Zaun or Piltover. Either way, there would be only ashes left on both sides. You let a sigh of relief escape as you feel a light pulse against the girl’s wrist. However, she needs medical attention, sooner rather than later. Her injuries look severe even to your untrained eyes and she has lost a lot of blood. As you let her arm down, her fingers relax, and a glowing round object rolls from her grasp. You do a double-take as you gape at it. It can’t be. The gemstone. The source of so many turmoils this past month just inches away from you, so shiny and out of place among the debris, as if daring you to take it. 
"Are you alright? Where’s the Sheriff?" You were so taken by the object that you completely missed the hurried footsteps behind you. As quickly and discreetly as possible, you shove the gemstone inside a compartment of your utility belt and turn to face the small group of enforcers gathered at the scene, Warren among them. A sigh of relief escapes you as there’s no trace of the Firelight leader. He had slipped away just in time.
"He did not make it." You say, rising to your feet. The men in uniform exchange incredulous looks. "Help me with the body." They must have missed the urgency in your tone because they remain unmoving, their eyes still taking in the bloodbath. "Come on, Teebo, put those big arms of yours to use." 
"She’s right, boys," Warren jumps in, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We’ve been after her for weeks, and now we finally got somethin’ to show for. The council will be pleased." He stands proudly, hands on his hips as two enforcers work to lift Jinx’s inert body of the ground. "Let’s see how the son of a bitch can manage without his prized pupil—" the sentence dies in his throat and he freezes, shoulders stiffening. He might as well have seen a ghost. "Speaking of the devil."
You've never actually met the Eye of Zaun. You've seen the murals of course, heard the stories, and encountered his goons more times than you can count. But most of all, you've witnessed the damage and destruction he’s caused in the undercity over the past few years— shimmer, gang violence, oppression of the chembarons, child labour. Now, he may not be directly responsible for that last one, but the man has hardly done anything to stop it. It's rampant. Spreading like a disease with no cure in sight. You are all too familiar with it.
As you stand a couple paces away from Silco himself, you finally understand the fear and dread he inspires in both zaunites and pilties alike. His entrance feels almost theatrical and dramatic in the mist. It is just him and two large henchmen…against dozens of armed enforcers. There's no chance, no world in which a fight would go his way. And yet, there isn’t a trace of doubt in his one good eye. He's ready to pounce, to fight to the death like a raging animal to retrieve the girl with blue hair. No one has ever looked at you this way before—with such pure, unfiltered hatred. And you’ve just met the guy.
You take one tentative step forward, but that’s as far as you. Silco’s gaze freezes you in place, and whatever you were about to say gets stuck in your throat.
"Let’s grab him too" Warren urges right from behind you, restless. 
"Those aren’t our orders," you say absently, your attention fixed on the one-eyed man.
"Are you kidding me? We could hit two big fucking birds with one stone. Right here! This could be huge for us."
"Don’t push your luck, Warren. We’ve got the girl. That’s the best bargaining chip we could hope for." That seems to get the point across, and Warren backs down.
"Get her back to the truck. This is a good day, gentlemen, a very good day!" He triumphs as he retreats with the rest of the squad. 
Silco takes a step forward, fists clenched at his side. One of his men grips Jinx’s makeshift mini-gun, finger on the trigger, odds be damned. You advance as well, hanging your rifle on your shoulder, hoping so erase any sign of hostility. If a gunfight was to break out now, Zaun would have to find itself a new leader, and the blue-haired girl would no doubt be caught in the crossfire. Silco, despite his anger and desire to kill everyone in sight to get to Jinx, seems to understand that. His shoulders relax, slowly lowering, and he motions for his men to step back. He remains firmly planted there, challenging you with a look—silent, but deadly. Your heart pounds so hard in your chest that you can hear it in your head. As you watch Silco disappear into the fog, just as he had emerged, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve just signed your own death warrant.
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it-one-line-at-a-time · 5 months ago
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[Stan] "...And if you find someone worth holding on to... never, ever, let them go. Follow your own path.
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"Think of this letter as a promise."
[Eddie] "A promise I'm asking you to make."
[Mike] "To me."
[Ben] "To each other."
[Bev] "An oath."
[Stanley] "See, the thing about being a Loser is... you don't have anything to lose. So..."
[Young Richie] "Be true."
[Young Eddie] "Be brave."
[Young Mike] "Stand."
[Young Bev] "Believe."
[Young Bill] "And don't ever forget..."
[Young Stan] "We're Losers... and we always will be."
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blackberry-s0da · 9 months ago
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Gonna make a big post to try to answer this.
My characters are inspired by lots of thing things (and lots of artists), Machete wasn’t an inspiration in particular to be honest, it’s a fully fleshed character with a specific white-black-red aesthetic, catholic imagery, blood, violence, hate, guilt and by the latest posts, love too. Mercy barely has a name for now, I haven’t been able yet to make a story, place him in a specific historical context or do as much as design his clothes.
Regarding physical similarities I actually took most of the poses and general vibes for Mercy from paintings depicting naked women (mainly form renaissance) as i liked how soft and peaceful they looked;
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(Machete lives on that time period if I’m not wrong so there’s also that. Mercy doesn’t have a spot in any timeline yet, but I’ve depicted him in modern clothes once and I think I’ll eventually place him in a modern setting)
Another inspiration was actually the artist Babezord, specifically for Mercy’s color palette and face pattern as seen in the image below. Many characters count with this mask like pattern and I’ve always loved it;
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(funnily enough on this character it is an actual mask)
The similarities on style are due a few factors: I learned to draw dogs mostly from Canisalbus, I’ve been following their work since I was around 13 or 14 I believe? Maybe earlier, and I learned a lot of things from them for the most part. On top of that I also love sighthounds and mostly draw that type of dogs as I’ve been having them as pets since childhood and always found them very pretty. I currently have two greyhounds.
Another artist I’ve leaned from are Lilaira, putrid.hound, canisinfernalis and mischievousdog, amongst others so shoutout to them too.
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I believe that Canisalbus characters are more stylized and fancy looking, they’re more lean and lanky for the most part, their hands are small and delicate, characters are very expressive and culturally rich, the clothing and pieces of background are beautifully detailed, their pieces usually tell a story, Mercy in the other hand was recently picked up from a mental trashcan I had him on as he’s my oldest and probably less used oc (he used to be a she but I decided to keep the name, that’s as much as he has for now, besides two scraped background stories). I designed them when I was a teen for lots of vent art and didn’t like how he looked (plus the negativeness I attached him to) so he’s been pretty much abandoned until September of 2023 when I redesigned them. Also gotta add that, while he isn’t a self insert he’s been used for the most part to reflect things about me and how I feel at the moment.
I believe my art is similar in many aspects to the one of Canisalbus, but not remotely close to being as amazing as theirs, I wouldn’t say were identical but I do take inspiration on them, amongst other artists.
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icewindandboringhorror · 1 month ago
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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summertimemusician · 1 year ago
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Linktober (Shadow) 2023
Spirit
Welp turns out my exam season throughly steam rolled through my general Linktober plans, so you get this VERY late thing for now folks who find this, at least until I decide whether to continue this until I finish it even though it's no longer Linktober or if I'll make whatever other stories come later their own thing after exam season is over (mostly because the original for this one is my preferred draft, and that I feel the one for the Link/Dark Link prompt would be kind of wasted if it just sat there collecting dust cause I worked hard on the tension and horror there lord darn it, along with a few others mainly involving Fae Hyrule, Twilight, Time, First, among other Links like Legend, Sky, Warriors, just all of the boys, I wanted to give them all proper spotlight and still want to do that in any way I can). Welp. *Downs coffee like a shot* Also really need to find out how to make a Masterlist on mobile, figure out how AO3 works and answer asks.
Anyway, not really any warnings this time besides Reader Not Being Okay (par the course really) and angst.
As always can be read as either romantic or platonic, Reader is gender neutral on purpose, technically is meant to be read as either Hero's Shade Time x Reader or First x Reader mainly, but you can interpret it as any Link really lol
Good reading!
This corner of Faron Woods was quiet this time of year.
The woods were solemn in this Hyrule, the sliver of moonlight barely enough of a guide through the mist, it was silent but for the soft padding of animals through the underbrush and the howl of a wolf in the distance (not Wolfie's, not musical enough). The stars were your only company as you were separated from the group, the air was cold agaisnt your skin as you attempted to find your way.
Being alone in the forests of Hyrule never spelled anything good for anyone, but as you felt the brush of a hand tenderly twined in yours, the ghost of leather and the faint clinking of steel, and a faint glow of pale gold and ivory cutting through the veil of the night, mindful of roots you may trip onto and never flickering too far out of sight you couldn't feel safer, even  if instead something like melancholy threatened to lock your throat with the chains of silence, you felt as warm as the soft twilight glow and as frigid as ice, frostburned with the bitter cold of your own warring emotions.
You can't help but chuckle a bit whille holding a old scabbard close to your heart, it's a wry sound, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
There is no answer, of course there isn't, but you don't mind, you know he'll listen, thorns wrap around your heart and crawl up your throat, the smell of lilies and steel coats and sticks in your throat like honey, or maybe blood, "... I didn't think you'd show up, you know? I always considered the possibility but..." You trail off, you feel something brush your side, you can only see him in the corner of your eyes or with a passing glance, there but not, existing but gone, so you keep your eyes on the road and in the flicker of light, so you carefully don't look to your side, you don't think you could contain the shaking in your heart otherwise, to stare at inevitability and prophecy, "... I know, I know you're fine. At least for now, I apologize for all the trouble I gave you."
'It's alright. It could never be a hardship aiding you.', the voice echoes in your ears, and you swallow thickly, breath hitching, the warmth of the sun in the fields of Hyrule, the wind caressing your hair, the song of the animals in Faron Woods, someone holding you carefully, fondly. The warmth of your hand in his. Not really here, but not gone either, more feeling than true echo.
You chuckle, and try to pretend it's not a bit breathless, something like a wounded keen, "... You're too kind. Too, too kind, thank you."
Spirits in Hyrule never spell anything good, in this wild land of light and shadow in a gestalt of divinity. There are some exceptions though, even if it hurts to witness then. So you follow him through the dark, certain that as you've guided his way once, he'll lead you now to where you need to go.
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... The clearing he leads you to is open, but by no means truly quiet among the trees, there is no peace to be found for the armored skeleton here. You choke on sorrow, on unfinished business, on the cruelty of being brought to ruin and being denied peace, and you stumble towards the familiar figure, almost in a trance as your vision blurs, roots and thorny vines wrap over rusted armor and a thorn cape, the skeleton's void sockets piercing through your soul, illuminated by the solemn gaze of the wretched moon and it's uncaring maids of honor in the stars.
You fall to your knees near the decaying skeleton, biting back against the wounded sound that attempts to leave your throat with enough strenght to bleed, you lay the scabbard by his side with a bouquet of lilies and shiver at the gentle, phantom touch, so soft, so loving it almost leads you to ruin all over again.
'... It's foolish to grieve for someone who isn't gone yet.' the thought comes to you, yet you can't help it. You still hurt for him, you still hold onto the fury at the heavens themselves for denying them quietus. For denying them rest over and over and over again. To watch this cycle and be helpless to stop it all due to the will of uncaring gods.
Alive. Dead. Alive. Dead. Denied full rest over and over again, to watch the chance at rest to the kindest of souls found in this world you found yourself in.
You barely register the touch to your cheek, ephemeral as it is, as you can't help but shed tears, can't help but grieve. Because if you don't, who will?
You know by now that some wounds can never heal, some rifts can never be mended. Even with the guarantee of cyclic, eternal rebirth, some things never return to how they were. And reminding yourself of this inevitability to them will never not hurt, even if you know it's futile to blame anyone but the one god who started this, and maybe the goddess who stood complacent to it. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that it'll one day come to this, that the frost of death and the sharpness of pain will leave a mark the sands of time can't scar over.
You reach a trembling hand towards the one in your cheek, try to find catharsis in the remains of decayed, dead yet ever eternal, ever growing love. And you breathe.
'We'll meet again. So do not mourn for me, please.'
You don't think you could deny him if you tried. Not when you know he's trying to soothe you, to thaw your sorrow. To allow your heart's healing to fallow.
"We will, I know. I'm sorry for making you worry." You chuckle, leaning into the cold, trying to brand the memory of the shadowed, but not gone love given to you so you can return it in kind. Just until you meet again, just until you can give all you can to his not yet decomposing self, grasping onto what remains of him, "I love you."
'I love you too. Until we meet again.'
The cold is gone, the echo of love leaves. And you breathe, and pretend you don't feel empty.
(When you see Link again, reuniting with the Chain on the next day's twilight. You hug him as tight as you can, and hope you he doesn't notice the tears in your eyes. And that you don't feel the lingering traces of a frigid embrace.
When no one is looking, you wave goodbye to the shade. And pray he dreams of warmer days until he finds quietus.)
#linked universe x reader#hero's shade x reader#linked universe time x reader#first x reader#hylia's chosen hero x reader#first link x reader#also know as What Happens When Summer Watches Corpse Bride after Playing MJM#I'll never not be emotional about the Hero's Shade and how it's an inevitability that Time will always die relatively young#how First died alone in the surface and likely never got a proper burial#And the fact we never learn what happens to the heroes after the task is done and THE ONE INSTANCE#we do is to learn they died young in some manner (ex Time. The Link before Hyrule. First.#Probably Twilight if we go by the theory Wolfie in BOTW is a spirit sent to help Wild#Technically pre calamity Wild because losing your memories is technically death of identity although that's for another story#and related to Lost#Most of the more effective LoZ games present themselves as either dark fairy tales and I'm running with that concept#Plus it's literally LEGEND of Zelda. Hardly do things end well for protagonists in actual legends and mythology involving gods#I think I have a right to worry#Anyway I'll probably elaborate more later because I'm tired lol#gotta perish to tackle studying and THEN be free to start on the pages long LU/LoZ essays /jk#unless?#we'll see#summer writes linktober 2023#summer writes linktober shadow 2023#summer writes#this short fic was also brought to you by the death holiday we have here in my country because it always makes me sad#and thinking of the Hero's Shade and what happens to First basically made it Depression times 100 lol
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throwawayasoiafaccount · 6 months ago
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god tywin lannister deserved worse
just remembering elias death and i wanna puke and the way tywin talks about elia and what happened is so damn gross
but rip tommen and myrcella we all know what’s about to happen in the next book :/
the cycle of violence just keeps spinning and damn you tywin for beginning it
(i got a bit crazy in the tags 💀)
#rest in peace elia and rhaenys#i’m one of those crazy ppl who thinks jaqen h’ghar is aegon 💀#literally lost the teeny tiny amount of credibility i had#anyways i think doran’s in on it and i think rhaegar switched out asharas child for aegon paralleling the baby swap jon does#the pact made in braavos about viserys and dany marriages is a half truth half lie#and arianne being sent to faegon is simply doran testing his heir. if she messes up then whoever’s spying for doran will correct her#gerold dayne knows too much that’s why doran thinks he’s too dangerous#but this would make the dornish plot sooooo much more interesting and would show that no doran hasn’t been doing nothing#it would also automatically make the daynes more important#jaqen (aegon) was in kings landing to kill robert but got caught by varys. syrio was sent to find him. ned cleared out the black cells tho#saving aegon in the process. fun how we’re actually introduced to this character through lyanna starks mini me arya#aegon was able to kill robert with a boar tho so mission accomplished.#now he’s in old town trying to hatch his dragon egg. the stone beast taking flight in danys vision is aegon being symbolically depicted…#..as a spinx#i’m crazy delusional. but ppl who think faegon is actually aegon are even more delusional than me#plus the real aegon being alive fulfills the suns son part of quaithes warnings#i like this theory bc it makes the dorne plot more interesting and it explains whatever is going on with jaqen h’ghar cause he is sus#yes yes i know i’m delusional 💀 i just think it’d be a very interesting twist#kinda hoping no one sees this post at this point bc i know no one will take this theory well lol#i do think this theory can be supported by the text tho#and cerseis throw away line about ned stealing asharas baby would suddenly become peak foreshadowing#barristan comparign dany to ashara would also be peak foreshadowing bc ashara would take the place of gilly in this parallel and she was dis#dishonored by someone at harrenhall. likely aerys and then she turned to a stark probably brandon for comfort#tbh i think it was ashara who lied to brandon about what happened to lyanna. perhaps she was trying to mess with brandon’s wedding and#was trying to get back at rhaegar for humiliating elia at the tourney. i highly doubt it was baelish who lied to brandon cause brandon#has little reason to believe him and no reason to trust him. ashara tho? arthur daynes sister and elias lady in waiting? also his lover?#anyways varys the spider potentially stealing aegon away (if he did take a child it was the false aegon) is there to parallel the others#who ride ice spiders taking crasters sons. tbh i think it was aegon who decided he wanted to train as a faceless man so he could get revenge#on his own terms. and the sea lord of braavos at the time was in on it and helped aegon with his plans#the unveiling coming up is going to be a lot more important than arya just reclaiming her identity. yes im delusional lmao. rant over
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quietwingsinthesky · 8 months ago
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the human au doctors are all ambiguously from Not Great Home Situations but i think twelve specifically was having a terrible time as a foster kid and decided this little gang of weirdos would be his new family
#he’s also faceblind and can’t tell ten and eleven apart if they’re not talking for like. two months.#that’s unrelated it’s just another thing that’s true#they’re the family twelve wants and they’re the family twelve chose. and besides: he brings with him dinosaur facts.#(also this is the point at which nine realizes this is going to keep happening. like okay. ten? that’s one kid he’s taking under his wing.#and fair is fair. as annoying as ten is. as stubborn and rude as he can be. well. mostly that just reminded nine of himself. not a good#thing necessarily. but he needed someone looking after him when he was younger and ten needs him now. okay then.#but then eleven happens and eleven is Not supposed to happen but the other option is to leave him behind living in secret in amy pond’s shed#where he will inevitably be found and sent back somewhere he Does Not Want To Go Or Talk Or Think About. so nine can’t leave him.#ten and eleven might fight like pissy cats but they also huddle together when they fall asleep while nine is watching over them.#so okay then. eleven is coming too.#BUT TWELVE? this is the third time. you can’t have a coincidence three times in a row. and twelve is the one who chases after them. who#chooses them. how is nine supposed to turn him away. plus he’s got a pragmatic streak that is extremely helpful and he fits. you know?#there’s room in their little family for him. and he fits. he belongs. they see him.#so okay then. twelve is coming too.)#human!sibling!doctors au
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obstinaterixatrix · 6 months ago
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I have a friend whose favorite series is a•t, which, Yknow, I am trying so hard to be polite about having extremely different tastes. but I cherish & support her and when it comes to bday presents I’m either waiting for someone to express a need/want for smth during any time of the year & just buying it & going ‘happy early/late birthday’ OR I’m planning months in advance (& sometimes collaborating w/ folks) for The Perfect Present but I can never bring myself to get something I’m halfhearted on… I’ve been on & off scrolling thru mercari/ebay/amazon/aliexpress and feeling very Eh abt the quality/size/price and was almost close to just getting two small cheap but cute plushies (13 cm & 10 cm :/), then on ebay I saw smth that was 20cm (good size) and actually very cute, but it was like $50 for the plush & $20 for shipping and while I cherish my pal I am not dropping $70 on a plushie (AND ESPECIALLY NOT ON A•T MERCH). so I do a exact match search of the specific brand and find one (1) online store selling it for $20 (incl shipping) (they’re having a 20% off sale). which is suspiciously low so I made sure to look up reviews outside the site & it looks legit, so I’m gonna buy it & hope that even if it’s not legit it’ll be an acceptable quality bootleg, and if it isn’t even that then I still have a month and a half to get one of my backup plans. in a week we’ll see if I get a Perfectionism Win.
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y-eontan · 10 days ago
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STOP WITH THE EMAILS
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syxnewt · 6 months ago
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my parents want my little brother, who has had a fever no lower than 100 F for the past 2-3 days, to go to school tomorrow
#status update#i'm gonna try and tell them why that's stupid#they took him to the doctor but the doc just said he had a cold#well I'm concerned with how badly his body is fighting it off!!!#plus they didn't give him any medicine all day#i gave him some before I left for work and after I got home#his fever is still 102#i don't understand their thought process whatsoever#like yeah school is imoortant but so is#A: not spreading illness!!!!!!#B: actually being able to focus in class because you feel good and not like shit#he even said that he'll probably be sent home anyway BECAUSE HE'S SICK#the issue I think is mainly he doesn't have a lot of symptoms#he said his throat felt “gummy” which no one - not even himself - can make heads or tails of#his stomach hurts and he threw up pretty recently#and his vision dimmed a few times but my mom doesn't really believe that one#I tried looking up the symptoms but it just said “eat a turkey sandwich” so thanks for that google#I don't know#i'm just worried about him#and I think it's stupid my parents want him to go to school when even by their standards he has such a bad fever#by the standards bit I mean they consider 100 F to be “low grade” even though 104 is danger territory#and that's just a hop skip and a jump away#AND ALSO HE IS LITERALLY ON THE PRECIPICE OF THAT RIGHT NOW#AND THEY DIDNT GIVE HIM ANY TYLENOL#he was home all day what did they even do#they also didn't give him medicine yesterday until I got home from my ap test#OKAY I'm done ranting I'll be here all night if I keep it up
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keeps-ache · 8 months ago
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today! on the agenda we have [tears paper away to reveal the single word 'do'] ...
#just me hi#today on the agenda i've added the words 'draw' and 'make valiant efforts' so >:3👍#//vv has sent me an ask and the sketching. oo it's sketching alright hfhs#am i going to make full character designs for these? probably i have no control in that aspect Hbfhvsfjs#if there is ONE thing i can consistently go all the way with it's character design. i literally could not tell you why that is lmao :3#there are nights where i design whole casts of characters and then Forget About Them ?????? like dude. why did we do all that hbfvh#really i made a cast of like 10 characters one night they all had their signature colours clothes jobs hobbies dislikes and personal#relationships and then i......... never thought about them again hhhfhsh#[holds them up like a wet cat] does anybody want a strange half-baked story with a cast of about 12 people who are all clones of one guy#who's trying to kill them. cuz man hfhsh#//anyway all the sidings from that i think i'm coming out of the Saute Mode#what's Saute Mode? well you see it's when i've already taken out the ready-made good stuff in my brain and now i need to put in new#ingredients and let them get hot and ready again. Saute Mode :3#sure it might just be artblock but i think i need an artbreak sometimes so loll#plus Saute Mode means i get to play viddy games without feeling guilty so YAY :33#but Saute Mode does Also mean i sort of don't. talk to anybody out of my own volition HH#it's the side of the coinage. you understand hfbvhs#//annnnnnywhoodle back to my sketching :>>#posing my wretched beloved.. you are strange and impossible to understand hbvhfs#/:3 toodles !
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ban-joey · 1 year ago
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sending laser beams to my professor with my mind. kenneth you said midterm grades would b up by this afternoon. it is officially TONIGHT and guess what? kenneth i would love to not be clenching my teeth in my sleep tonight. kenneth i will be sending you a bill in the mail. yes i know its probably a TAs responsibility but i blame you personally. i hate school
#i dont im having a lot of fun (genuinely) but it is often pretty stressful#did find out there are a few folks adjacent to my program doing zoonoses & climate change research so im very excited to chat w them next w#possibly directing my thesis towards one health. social epi gradually becoming less interesting#plus i think my strengths do lie in applying epi to biological concepts so. one health works there#my brain continually trying to get back to lyme disease :( sometimes i really do miss the east coast tbh!#not lying actually i think the number one thing i miss is the amt of vector borne disease research LMFAO#i do unfortunately kind of have a crush on a classmate so that's fine but whatever. grad school. men are nice to me and i lose my mind ig#need to go make out w a hot trans person i think that would solve my problems rn#but also it's nice to be so excited about someone deciding to sit next to me in every class :)#like wow how isolated have i been the last 3 years to be so delighted by like. active signs i have Officially Made Friends.#even if he does live like a block away from my dad and jokes every goddamn day like 'so i saw your dad yesterday' no you DIDNT shut UP#idk yesterday he sat right next to me in a class he usually sits w other people in and it sort of sent my brain off the edge and now im jus#yeah. sitting with this one. it's fine like it's normal. but wowie i do think it's my first time having a Big Ol Crush since (redacted)#a little scary for my animal brain i think but it's okay!#im 25 in like 3 ish weeks and i still get embarrassed about this stuff somehow? stupid.#he's just really nice and always really fun to talk to! i think i had to officially Sit With Myself today bc epi is doing a holiday party#and there's a baking contest and we were talking abt it in class and i was indecisive abt whether i want to participate#and he like fully cut me off and was like oh you should bake something so i can have some :)#and. well fuck now i have to lmao. IM SO EASY IT'S SO EMBARRASSING#good evening everyone. guess this is my journal now. anyway ken rice you owe me twenty dollars and i aim to COLLECT
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im-still-watching-anime · 2 years ago
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absolutely no time for my funky anime thoughts because i have been Very Busy BUT ya girl did just apply for her college graduation!! so!!! i think it’s okay just this once
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capyclub · 1 year ago
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guys i am at my wits end
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