#internet-connection

[morganbritton132]

Steve is unknowingly popular in teacher spaces online despite not having social media because his students keep posting videos of him on Tiktok.

Every now and again, a video will break containment and reach a wider audience - like the time one of his students used ‘girl math’ to justify their wrong answer and Steve responded with an exhausted ‘math is non-binary’ - but it’s always a flash-in-the-pan kinda thing. The lasting power isn’t there.

Or well, it wasn’t before famed rockstar Eddie Munson started randomly quoting some of the dorky shit ‘Teacher Steve’ says in those videos.

Someone puts together a compilation of Eddie quoting videos that have less than one hundred views. Now Eddie has to admit that he’s kinda obsessed with the guy and suddenly Steve is famous everywhere online (still doesn’t know about it though).

Things may have died down but then one of his students post a video of them asking Steve if he knows Eddie, and Steve is just like, “Munson? Eddie Munson from high school?”

They’re married btw.

[blackpearlblast]

a video call for help from @haya-orouq19 who is in gaza

[Transcript: Please don't scroll if you want to help a family in Gaza. Hey everyone, this is Haya Orouq, I am 18 years old from Gaza City. Today is the 167th day of the war in Gaza City. And through this war we lost our house, my university was bombed. My whole childhood neighborhood area was completely damaged. We have been displaced to three different places in search of a safer place but unfortunately there's no safer place in Gaza. Everywhere there's bombing, everywhere is dangerous, so we are now displaced in Deir al-Balah. And me and my family lost everything, we have nothing left here in Gaza.

And my mom is very sick also, she is suffering from Lupus and because she has Lupus, she is a kidney failure patient in need of an urgent treatment and care outside of Gaza. The hospitals here is so poor and bad and the quality of her treatment is getting worse and worse because the quality of the hospitals is bad, because of the conditions of the war. So please guys, help my family, we deserve to- we deserve a decent life, we deserve to start a new beginning and deserve a new life.

So, here's the link in the bio and you can help me by sharing the video, repost, comment, like, whatever you can do can help. Every one dollar can make a difference. You can make life-changing difference to my family, you can save my family, you can save my mom. I am also trying to reach out to as many celebrities who are interested in helping people like me by making videos about the family that needs help in Gaza, like me. So I will mention them in the comment and please go to them, ask them to share my videos, and to make a video about my campaign and ask them to share my link. This is so urgent, I need your help guys because my account is prevented from receiving and sending messages so I can't reach out with them. I will mention them so please help me, and help my family.

I can't bear seeing my mom struggling with death because she has a dangerous disease which is Lupus and she is a kidney failure patient and I can't bear seeing my older sister suffering from hunger. So please guys, you can do it and please make #HelpHayasFamily. Share this video, whatever you can do can help. You can share the link as widely as possible, you can share the video. End of transcript.]

you can donate to her campaign here!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

"hear me out" but tryana to convince your muturals that no really, "babygirl" absolutely applies to the devious entity in question

[inkskinned]

these days when you close your eyes, what else do you want but to be loved in a warm and permanent way. the open soft hand, the lowered voice, the blanket around your shoulders. you want to be loved like hot chocolate, like spring flowers, like dawn. you want to go to sleep protected and wake up fully rested. you want the wounds in you to matter, you want someone who is patient around your scars.

how greedy. these days when you look around, how many little ways are you assaulted by the notion that it's wrong to need others. individualism! capitalism! bootstraps! every time you try to language it, you need to cover up your desire into a carefully-worded soundbite: of course no single person can fulfill every need and we must invest in communities and i must be responsible for my own mental health and

but the yawning in you doesn't understand logic or sound or reason. it only sees sundays, only sees what you do-not-have, only sees the look others share and that you so desire. sick with dread at it, sick at how it makes you want, how you yearn in no direction.

no matter how many people you take with you to bed, no matter how many hands touch the tattoo you share with your sibling, no matter how many times you kneel with your knees bleeding. always, the ache that never stops chewing, the desperate sick loneliness that never quite abates. it never stops humming, i need i need i need. you burn your inner child for warmth and scatter the ashes into your morning coffee.

so you shut up and you load your life like shotgun shells and you try to make yourself whole in the way that others are whole. you let your father's words spill out of your mouth. you make a quick joke rather than tear your heart open. you sing into the mic and go home with stars in your eyes. your life is beautiful and you're lucky! you have everything a person can need!

but it would be nice, is the thing. to have a love that feels like peace.

[the-phantom-peach]

modern link and zelda because they’re cute and i can do what i want <3

[beheeyemite]

"Just a quick doodle" <- FAMOUS LAST WORDS

[gotchibam]

Shiny Masquerain & Shiny Aggron ko-fi doodle for cyrus!

[ddejavvu]

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

request: The BAU going to interview a witness in the hospital, only whenever Spencer is in the room, or speaks to reader in his soft voice, or touches them, their heart monitor starts beeping extremely loudly. Much to the amusement of the rest of the team. And to your sheer mortification. Spencer hypothesises maybe he looks like the unsub, poor guy has to get explained to him why he's wrong for once. And why they all keep sending him in to talk to you ;)

"Guys, I don't think I should go in there." Spencer's face is pinched in a concerned frown, and his teammates eye him with the same worry.

Derek claps a hand on Spencer's shoulder, "Why not, Reid? You're the only one she'll talk to."

"I think it's because she's afraid of me," Spencer admits, shoulders hunched uncomfortably inwards, "I think she's only talking because she's worried I'll hurt her, or something. I must look like the unsub."

"You think she's afraid of you?" Rossi questions, a paper cup of coffee in his hands that is entirely too empty for him to be having this conversation, "Reid, I don't think that's true."

Spencer presses onwards undeterred, shaking his head, sending his curls flying, "Every time I go in there I make her nervous. Her heart monitor starts going haywire, like she's having a flashback or something. I mean, one time I put my hand on her arm and the nurses flocked into the room because they thought the medication they'd given her was causing a seizure. I think I must remind her of the unsub somehow, and we can use that in the profile, but I don't want to keep tormenting her."

There's far too many seconds of prolonged, awkward silence. The team glances at Reid, at each other, at the floor, anything that will keep them from having to open their mouths. Eventually, Hotch steps into his role as leader, and moves through the cramped hallway towards Spencer's nervous, guilt-ridden trame.

"Reid, she's not nervous because you look like the unsub. She- squirms, and stutters, and you're the only one she'll talk to about what happened to her. If she were really negatively affected by your presence, she'd ask us not to send you in anymore. But she practically looks disappointed whenever anyone else tries talking to her. I don't think her heart rate increases because she's afraid of you."

Spencer's silent, his brows creased in thought, but perhaps even his genius brain can't parse this one out in a timely manner. Emily pipes up, "Reid, she's got a crush on you. And if that's what it takes to get this guy, then that's what we'll have to use. You're kind to her, and she's receptive to that. Now it doesn't matter the reason, but you can at least take solace in the fact that she's not afraid of you, okay? Not at all. That's why you have to go back in there, because you make her feel safe."

"No, I- I don't think that's what it is." Spencer's cheeks warm, pinkening beneath the hallway's fluorescent lighting, "I don't think she'd be able to form that sort of connection so soon after experiencing such a traumatic experience."

"That's exactly why she likes you," Derek insists, "You saved her. You swooped in and carried her to safety and now you're her knight in shining armor. And even if she won't feel this way forever, she feels it now, and you're the one she wants to talk to. You're the one that makes her feel safe. So go in there, and make her feel comfortable enough to help us catch this guy. Okay?"

Spencer's mouth tightens in a displeased frown for just a second, "I don't think you guys are right. I- I think it's something else. But I'll talk to her again."

"That's all we're asking." Hotch nods, pushing his shoulder gently towards the door of your room, "Now, go in there, and work your magic, Reid. We need more details."

Spencer turns the doorknob to your room with clammy hands, and finds you sleeping inside. He debates whether or not he should back out and let you rest, but for every minute he delays, their unsub walks free. He presses onwards, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him is enough to rouse your frayed nerves from sleep.

You jolt awake, eyes flying wide open and hands clenching the bedsheets like they're weapons you could use. Your eyes lock onto Spencer, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you stare at him like he'll attack you. But you drink in the curve of his nose, the puff of his lips, the messy ringlets of honey-colored hair that fall around his face, and your breathing evens out.

Your heart monitor, though, does not. Reid watches as your heartbeat stays frantic, and he moves slowly towards a chair by your bed in hopes of not spooking you any further.

"Hi, Dr. Reid." You murmur, your voice soft as you settle back against your pillow, "Is there any news on the investigation?"

"No, nothing new." Spencer admits, watching as you turn to face him. You angle your body entirely towards him, and you even scoot your head a centimeter closer on your pillow. Your face twists in displeasure at Spencer's admission, but you don't move away.

"Oh." You lay your cheek in your palm, "Did you want to talk to me more? I told you everything I know."

"I believe you." Spencer nods, "But l'm here to coach you through a memory exercise. You can stay laying down, but- take my hands?"

There's a slight blip in your heart rate, a missing beat where there should have been two. Then it kicks back up wilder than ever, and you take the hands Spencer's offering to you.

"Close your eyes," Spencer instructs, his own flitting towards your heart monitor where it beeps wildly.

"Think back to when he moved you. What sort of terrain was it? Did he go over any hills? Did it smell like animals?"

You squeeze Spencer's hands, nervous, and he squeezes yours back, "Just- remember, I'm here with you, l'll be here with you the whole time." You breathe deeply, and nestle closer to Spencer on the bed. Your hands are sweating in his own, which is a symptom Spencer knows all too well. You're leaning into him, begging for contact as you angle yourself towards him like a flower to the sun, and your heart rate steadily beeps at a mildly concerning level. Spencer keeps his voice steady as he leads you through the memory retrieval exercise, but nothing convinces him more that his team was correct than when it's over, and your eyes snap open, wildly, desperately searching for him.

"I'm here." Spencer hums comfortingly, and he knows that you're taking solace in him when you squeeze his hands, keeping him close instead of letting him go.

[redmountain]

Regions of Morrowind S K Y W I N D 2024: The Road So Far

[darkbluetennessee]

I suddenly have the urge to know how all of you became swifties....what was the first taylor song you ever heard, but also how did you become invested? why did you dig deeper than a casual fan would?

[xagave]

Mmmmm candy [muffled crunching as I eat these] I made some tiny 1 inch acrylic pins

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side

The Arcane brainrot remains strong, and is apparently strong enough to make me write a fic twice as long as usual. Dammit Silco

Summary: Silco receives reports of an enforcer in Zaun beating the chem-barons at their own game and goes to investigate. He doesn't expect to see a ghost of his past.

It's always on the bridge that his life-changing moments happen. First it was Felicia's death, then Vander's betrayal. Now…now it was you, trading your life for his, pushing him away as enforcers moved towards the both of you.

Go, your lips mouth as your dagger sinks into the throat of the enforcer closest to him. You rip the blade out, causing blood to spurt from the wound and whirl around to face the others, shouting a challenge to draw their attention away.

His feet remain rooted to the ground, throat dry as he watches enforcers crowd around you, hears your war cries as you turn into a deadly whirlwind of steel and suddenly Sevika is dragging him away, eyes hard. Your cries get softer as Sevika hauls him further and further away from you, until he can no longer hear you anymore, nor see you.

No, he can't lose you too. Not after everything, not after what he's promised you. Not when the reality of Zaun is so close at hand —

"—co! Silco!" He blinks slowly, raising his head. Sevika stands before him, her flesh hand on the table supporting her as she leans forward, staring right at him.

"What is it, Sevika?" He groans, noticing the fallen pieces of paper that he will have to reorganise later.

"There have been reports of an enforcer single-handedly cutting their way through Zaun. All the chaos has been affecting business and the chem-barons have been complaining."

"Are they all that useless? One enforcer is giving them so much trouble?" Silco rubs his temple. As if the chem-barons themselves aren't enough of a problem already, now they're handing him more problems to deal with.

"The enforcer apparently knows all the ins and outs of Zaun or something," Jinx chimes in from her perch atop the rafters. She lazily rolls over to look at Silco, playing around with her latest grenade, grinning down at him. "Disappearing into the alleys only to pop out again when everyone least expects it and kills everyone."

Silco frowns, how would an enforcer know Zaun's streets well enough to trick chem-barons? The only plausible explanation he can think of is that someone had given the enforcer a map, and a traitor in their midst was an thorn he had to remove with haste.

"I suppose I will have to clean up after them once again," he sighs. "Sevika, track this enforcer down. Follow their movements, take note of anyone they meet and report back."

"Understood." With that, his ever-loyal right-hand exits his office, leaving him alone with Jinx.

"You know," she hops onto his desk, "that enforcer looked rather familiar."

Silco raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks, knowing she has stolen back his attention. "They looked a lot like…someone…what was their name again?"

Silco turns back to his stack of paperwork when she falls silent once more and Jinx rummages through a drawer, only to slam it shut with a loud bang that echoes all around the room. She lunges forward, deft fingers quickly finding the thin chain around his neck and pulls on it, hard.

"They had this hanging around their neck too." She whispers. "Sounds familiar?"

No. No, it couldn't be. You — you were gone, dead, lost to the enforcers that day on the bridge. It couldn't be you, it had to be an imposter, there was no way — he had to see it for himself. He had to know, had to confirm it with his own eye.

"Are you sure?" He asks calmly, careful not to break his facade. He had to remain rational, control his emotions for this could be a trap laid by Piltover, but how would they know about you? Too many questions, not enough answers. He could wait for Sevika's report, he had patience.

Jinx lets go of the chain, sliding off his desk. "I saw it myself. You can't miss it, dangles from their neck like an obnoxious piece of jewellery."

Silco's eye widens slightly. There is no doubt about it, it really is you, but how? How had you survived the fight, the riots, and why didn't you come back to Zaun? To him? His fingers curl around his cup as he searches for the answer in his past. You'd promised to be by his side, and he thought that promise lost when he was separated from you that day, but you were very much alive. Had you lied? Yet another question to ask when he got his hands on you.

Jinx notices the twitching and frowns. Silco was clearly hiding something from her, and she didn't like it when he did that. She leans forward, "who are they to you?"

"Someone I may know," he answers, pushing Jinx away. "Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

"Hmph," Jinx pouts, annoyed that she isn't getting a proper answer. "They're clearly someone you were close to, otherwise they wouldn't have that ugly ring."

Silco sighs, picking up the topmost paper from the pile, "Not anymore. Now go and tinker with something else or make yourself useful and help Sevika track the enforcer down."

Jinx groans but exits the office, leaving Silco alone with his thoughts. Was the enforcer really you? How were you still alive? He plays with the ring hanging around his neck, remembering the day you had presented him with the ring. It hadn't been anything special, fancy or big. Just a simple gesture of shoving a box into his hand and telling him to open it.

"What's this?"

"A surprise gift! Open it!" You grin at him, clearly rather excited about his reaction to whatever that gift is. He frowns, mind cycling through possible pranks you could pull with this 'surprise gift' of yours and stares at it suspiciously.

"I told you it'd backfire," Vander chuckles, cleaning a glass. "You can't escape that reputation of yours."

"Oh come on! I'm not that bad…am I?" You blink owlishly as the two men stare at you incredulously. "…I see. Thank you both for the votes of confidence."

"You're welcome," Silco drawls, suppressing a chuckle of amusement as he pulls the box closer. "You're going to clean up whatever mess comes of me opening this box, understand?"

"I swear there will be no mess!" You pout, slumping onto the table. Vander laughs, ruffling your hair, "I can vouch for her this time, Silco."

"Fine," Silco sighs, but still braces himself as he opens the box — to reveal a simple metal band resting on a cushion.

"So, gonna marry me or —"

"How did you get this?" Silco lifts the ring into the light, studying it. There are carvings set in the metal, your initials and his, bringing a smile to his face as he reads it. "And yes, I am 'going to marry you', don't fret."

"Yes!" You whisper-yell giddily, excitedly bouncing around the bar. Vander pours three drinks, pushing two towards Silco and you while drinking the last one, chuckling. Silco rolls his eyes, taking the cup offered by Vander and throws his pen at you. You yelp as the pen hits you squarely in the forehead and then chuck the pen right back at him.

Silco calmly dodges your terrible aim, taking another sip from his cup, "are you going to answer my question or not?"

"I stole it!"

"I don't believe you."

"What?!" You flop onto the floor dramatically. "The man I love doesn't believe me, it's over."

"Who did you steal this from?" Silco slips the ring onto his finger, then takes it off again. It's far too loose. "I'll need to hang this around my neck."

"Uh…a jewellery merchant I happened across a couple days ago."

"And you didn't even check the ring size."

"I'm supposed to know your ring size?" You snort, moving over to the counter top.

"I don't know, are you?" Silco leans in close, swiping your drink.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Silco simply smirks at you as he drinks half before handing it back, "too slow."

"Give that ring back! I'm reverting my decision, you drinks thief!"

"It's mine already, I'm afraid I'm not keen on parting with it." Silco quickly glances around, ensuring no one is looking before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "Although I could make it up to you with a return gift."

"Oh? Better not disappoint me then, Sil~" You grin, capturing his lips into a full kiss, which he returns.

"Have I ever, love?"

He tucks the ring away upon hearing his office door open, revealing a scowling Sevika who has a couple of scratches.

"They got away, sorry," she grunts, "but I did find out who they are. It's Y/N. They really are alive."

"How?" Silco growls.

"Don't know, but they don't remember me. Don't know if they'll remember you." She frowns. "Going in alone is stupid, don't you dare think about it."

"I wasn't." Silco sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose. There's a weird ache in his chest, a pull that tries to drag him out of his office but he forces it back down. He can't let his emotions take a hold of him, there is much he doesn't know about your situation, going after you right now is far too risky.

Still, he takes a different turn during his usual nightly routine, entering an alleyway and takes out a cigar, lighting it. He lets the ring around his neck dangle outside his clothes, the silver reflecting what little light exists at this time of day. A ring of smoke floats into the air, disappearing into the cold night sky as footsteps sound from his left.

"About time you showed up, you've always been late whenever I wasn't around to haul you out of bed." Silence greets him, save for the click of a gun and Silco turns to face you. "Silence really doesn't suit you."

The gun lifts, pointing right at him and he simply stares back. A finger curls around the trigger, pressing it down slightly but he remains unfazed.

"Y/N." He can see the ring that hangs around your neck now, a simple gold coloured band hanging from a thin silver chain. He remembers the day he gave it to you, the way you took great care of it every day, but now it hangs tarnished from your neck, stained and rusted. "It's dirty."

He reaches over, pressing his chest against the barrel of the gun and inspects the ring. He can easily get rid of the rust that has set in, scrub away the dirt but returning it to its former shine will be quite impossible. He clicks his tongue, annoyed and lets go of the ring lifting his gaze to meet your empty eyes. "Let's go home."

The gun doesn't go off, your finger falling from the trigger when you see the ring hanging around his neck, images flashing through your mind. Memories that feel familiar and alien at the same time roar in your head, confusion eating away at you and you drop your gun, clutching at your head. Your chest tightens, lungs refusing to inhale the oxygen you need and your heart thunders in your ears.

No no no no no.

"Breathe." A deep voice cuts through the haze. "In and out. Focus on my voice, follow my instructions. I will not lose you again."

You force your lungs to cooperate, following the instructions step by step, encouraged by the gentle deep voice until your vision refocuses.

"Silco," you whisper shakily. "Silco."

"I'm right here," he murmurs, arms wrapping around you.

"I —"

"Hush now, love. Everything's alright."

"No, it's not. I nearly — I — Sevika —" Panic bubbles to the surface but Silco quickly steps in before the situation can spiral.

"Sevika is alright. You held back enough for her to escape with a few scratches." He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You're back, with him, in his arms. Silco tightens his grip, hugging you closer. It can't be a dream, such a dream would be far too cruel.

"They took me, suppressed my memories, Silco I —" You choke out a sob, tears silently flowing down your cheeks. His heart aches at the sight, it always has whenever he saw you cry.

"But they could never take away our love." He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your new scent. You smell like Piltover, a weird freshness, a hint of lavender that doesn't suit you in the slightest, and that disgusting blue clashes with the colour of your eyes. Your hair is no longer as rugged, it's combed neatly and Silco ruffles it, running his fingers through the strands like he used to.

He kisses you until your breath smells like cigars, throws his jacket over your shoulders and bundles you in it until he's satisfied he can't smell the Piltover stink anymore then presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. You smell like ash now, like the smoke that fills Zaun's air and he allows himself a small smile. The only trace of Piltover left now is the blue uniform but that has to wait until the both of you are home.

You're back now, with him, safely in his arms, and that's all that really matters. You, by his side once more, keeping the promise you had made to him years ago.

Don't worry, I'll be by your side, always.

[screwpinecaprice]

A super quick connverse before work!

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Warden (30 min. painting practice)