#no because. because its always 'you need to try more' or 'ur jot trying hard enough'

[plant-flwrs]

i just read house unity and i am in tears!! it's so beautifully written, you must be an author bc that is pure TALENT 😭✨ if you don't mind can i request george x soft hufflepuff reader? she's kinda pure and george is like ily let's be together. thx!!

budding romance // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: um UR TOO NICE!!! thank you so much!!! I do not mind in the slightest, so I hope you like it hehe! um i also love hufflepuffs so much they are like the best house (coming from a ravenclaw) my sister is a hufflepuff and like three of my good friends are hufflepuffs so y’all are the best and i have a major soft spot for u. 

i’ve always found something about botany and plants incredibly romantic, so if this just sounds like a fanfiction for plants, you know why lol. I also made George a bit soft in this so i hope you don’t mind that either <3 n e ways, i hope you enjoy this! thanks for requesting! also sorry this took so long :( i had a bit of a hard time finding a solid idea but i think it worked out :) like, reblog, or leave any feedback if you’d like!

summary: George needs a tutor for Herbology, but has no plans on learning.

(3k)

--------

The back of your neck was particularly warm, and you hadn’t decided if it was because of the blazing sun shining through the Herbology classroom glass ceiling, or the fact that George Weasley was staring at the back of your head.

Your delicate fingers traced the back of the Dittany plant, feeling the bumps and lines of the veins that trailed to the stem. You wrote down some observations in your worn notebook, before glancing back at the plant. You picked up a pair of garden scissors, prepared to cut the plant at the stem.

“George Weasley is looking over here,” your friend whispered to you, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“I know, he does it often,” you replied, using a pair of tweezers to pull apart the Dittany.

“Do you think he needs something?” she asked, returning back to her own plant.

“I just figured he was copying what I was doing,” you wiped a bit of moisture off of your hand and onto your apron, taking the opportunity to look over your shoulder.

George’s eyes met yours, and his face flushed with an embarrassed blush. You offered him a kind smile, your eyes falling down to his mangled Dittany plant. You looked back up to his eyes, this time sympathetically smiling at him.

You returned to your own plant, jotting down a few more notes in the stained journal next to you.

Herbology was a strong suit of yours, you had always found it relaxing and simple. The plants offered so much to people, and all you had to do was understand how to care for them properly.

After your eventual dismissal, you rubbed the back of your neck and felt a sunburn, cursing yourself for not bringing some sort of sunscreen in your bag.

You heard an awkward cough from behind you, followed by a weak “hello”. You turned to face the noise and was a little surprised to see the tall redhead it came from.

“Hello,” you said kindly, closing your bag.

“Hi,” he repeated, and you waited for him to continue.

An awkward amount of time passed before he realized he had already said hello.

“Oh, right, um” he coughed again, clearing his throat, “well, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

He paused, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I know who you are, George,” you replied before he had the chance, smiling at his sentiment, “we’ve gone to school together for 6 years.”

“Yeah, I just usually say it formally,” he retracted his hand after he held onto yours for what he felt was too long, “you know, with an identical brother and all.”

You nodded your head, still smiling at the nervous boy.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hands gripping the leather straps of his bag nervously.

“In addition to the introduction?” you said, trying to make him less nervous.

He laughed lightly, shifting from one leg to the other.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, finding it impossible to wipe the smile off your face.

“I was wondering, since you seem so good at it, if you would help me out in Herbology?” he spoke fast, and you nearly missed what he said.

“Oh,” you were surprised by his question. He and his brother had a bit of a reputation at this school, and tutoring didn’t seem to align with it.

“I get if you can’t or something, I know you must be busy with your own studies,” he began, but you waved your hands, cutting him off.

“No, no, I don’t mind,” your smile widened as he let out a relieved breath of air, his chest deflating.

“So you’ll tutor me?” he asked, a crooked smile dawning upon his lips.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you replied easily, nodding your head.

There were many reasons not to tutor George, you found later. For one, you fell in love with him. Not that you could be blamed, he was incredibly charming and adorable. The other reason was that he actually had very little interest in the plants, and his efforts seemed more geared towards you.

You had asked Professor Sprout if you and George could meet in the Herbology room every Wednesday after her classes. She was skeptical, but she trusted you and allowed you access as long as you promised to keep George in line.

This particular Wednesday seemed no different than the others, besides the growing crush you had formed on George. You waited for him at a stool by the door, a textbook open in front of you, along with your Herbology journal, a few quills, your apron, your gardening equipment, and a dying Dittany plant you planned on showing George how to save. You had been waiting for a while, but George was usually late. You had pulled some Arithmancy homework from your bag and worked on it in the meantime.

“Sorry!” George burst through the door of the greenhouse, a book falling from his fumbling hands, “Sorry, I got caught up with Fred, I’m sorry I’m late.”

More and more apologies flooded from his mouth, like they did most days, as he made his way to the stool next to you.

“It’s alright,” you put away your homework and pulled your textbook to rest on the table between the two of you.

You stood from your stool and began putting on your apron, and moved over to the cabinet with the spare aprons. You got one for George and his hands fumbled behind his back, his focus on you. He watched the side of your face as you peered into the textbook, your fingers tracing the words as you read. You lightly tapped it, pointing it out to George.

“We’ll start here,” you said, sitting back down in your stool.

Your wand hovered over a watering jug on the table, and you cast the Aguamenti charm. Water poured from your wand, filling the jug.

George watched you, nervously turning his fingers over in his lap. He glanced down, noticing the habit, and smoothed his hands over his legs. He brought his hands to his hair and raked them through the red locks, rolling his shoulders back, trying to relax in your presence. He never was able to, and he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

George couldn’t care any less than he already did about Herbology. He thought it was boring and useless. Not many of his pranks required extensive knowledge about plants, and when they did, the plants were already in use. But, when he saw you from across the room, your glasses teetering on the edge of your nose, your fingers tracing over the lettering in the textbook, hair falling into your face, and that wonderfully sweet smile etched onto your beautiful face, he had to talk to you.

It took him a week or two of staring at the back of your head before you even noticed him. The first time that beautiful smile was for him, he could only think of you for the rest of the day. Fred was tired of it, honestly, George was desperately infatuated with you. George had worked up the tutoring plan with Fred, with the promise that he wouldn’t actually study anything. “We have a reputation to uphold, Georgie!”

“Okay,” your sweet voice pulled George from his thoughts, and his eyes flickered from your face to your hands on the book, “so this is a Dittany.”

Your hands moved from the book to the dying plant. Its previously green leaves were now brown and wilting. Your fingertips moved over the delicate leaves, to the stems, and you raked your fingers through the dry dirt.

George leaned forward on the table, putting his chin to rest in his palm. He listened to you talk about the plant, describing just about everything there was to know. He wondered how you knew all of this from memory, and admired you even more than he thought possible.

You reached over the table to grab the garden scissors, but they were just out of your grasp. George leaned forwards and picked them up, turning them to you. You hadn’t retracted your hand, so when he pulled them from the table, they slid open and you felt a sharp pain on your fingertip.

You pulled your hand away and nursed it in your lap. A red stain appeared on your apron, and soon it spread as your fingertip was flowing with blood. You heard the scissors clatter on the table and George turned to you, already spouting apologies.

“Shit!” he cursed, his body turning towards you and he slouched to become eye level with you in your seat, “I’m so sorry!”

You whimpered involuntarily, bringing your finger to your mouth to suck away some of the blood. You removed your finger and wiped it on your apron, only for the blood to continue flowing.

George was panicking, he felt absolutely awful.

“Can I see it?” you looked up to see his creased brow and guilt- flooded eyes.

You swallowed hard and nodded, offering him your hand timidly.

He gently placed his hands over yours, they were so large they nearly covered them completely. His hands were warm and calloused on the palms from years of gripping his Beater bat. He brought your hand to him, holding it close to his chest as he looked at the small cut.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated, and he rubbed his thumb soothingly on our palm.

He pulled out his wand and looked at you for wordless permission, which you granted him curiously. He hovered over your finger and mumbled a spell you hadn’t heard before. The broken skin on your finger began to mend together, and the stinging had been replaced with an odd numbness. There was still the remains of blood, but George brought his apron to your finger and wiped it away. He still held your hand, looking at your face.

“How did you know that spell?” you asked, surprised when your voice came out as a whisper.

“You learn a lot when you have siblings like mine,” George responded in a whisper, looking at you sheepishly.

His hand was tightening around yours, and his palm rested against the back of your hand. You wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

George’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and it was so fast you had thought you might have imagined it. Your eyes moved to his lips, noticing that his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth.

“Well, it’s the least I could do,” he responded coolly, dropping your hand back into your lap and straightening his tie as if it had become too tight.

You looked down at your aprons, each stained with small drops of your blood.

“Ew,” you said, trying to wipe off the dried red stain, “Sprout will kill me!”

Pulling his wand back out, he placed it on the table.

“Here,” he moved close to you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, breathing in deeply as his mouth was inches away from your ear. You felt him fumbling with the bow that tied your apron, and his hands grazed your lower back.

Soon the bow was untied, and George hovered for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile as he smelled your wonderful perfume.

Your apron became lose and he pulled back, his hands moving to your neck as he pulled it off. He did the same with his own and laid them both on the table.

“Tergeo,” he said, pointing his wand at the aprons.

Your apron was as good as new, and so was his, all the dirt and blood removed from the cloth.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the moment of intimacy from your brain. You forced a smile at him, thanking him as you took the apron from him.

“You’re a much better student than you let on, George,” you said, holding the apron loosely in your lap.

He made a scoffing noise, but a genuine and flushed smile fell on his face.

Neither of you felt inclined to nurse a dead plant back to life, in fact, you had no idea what to do. George just stared at you, as if he were waiting for something.

“Um-” George spoke at the same time as you, and you closed your lips.

“No, you go ahead,” he said, bowing his head to you slightly.

You laughed and insisted that you weren’t going to say anything important.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to take a walk around the grounds,” he said, already standing from his stool, “it’s awfully warm in here.”

George was right, the greenhouses seemed to be particularly warm. You thought some fresh air would be nice.

“Not very interested in the Dittany?” you teased, standing from your stool and moving to clear the table.

“Oh no!” George said nervously, hoping he didn’t offend you, “No, its wonderful-”

“I’m only teasing George, I know Herbology can be boring,” you smiled at him and laughed to yourself when you saw him visibly relax.

He was always so nervous around you, no matter how hard you tried to make him comfortable.

The two of you put away all the supplies, cleaning the table off for Professor Sprout. You had used the water left in the watering jug on any dry looking plants. George watched you going around the greenhouse, the sunshine making you seem like you were glowing. You held your hair behind your shoulder, peering into each pot.

“Alright,” you dusted your hands and tucked away your apron, “let’s go.”

George held the door open for you, and you ducked beneath his outstretched arm as you crossed the threshold. You followed his lead as he led you down a hallway.

“So you like Herbology a lot, right?” George asked you, casting a glance down at your side profile.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“There’s a boy in my house, Neville, he’s great at Herbology,” George spoke fondly, his eyes turning to look out the tall windows.

“Sprout has talked about him,” you said, looking at George’s side profile, “says he’s quite talented.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” George said awkwardly, feeling quite uncertain in your presence.

“What’s your favorite class?” you asked, still trying to make some conversation.

George raked his mind, trying to decide if he should make up an answer to sound smart or be honest. He decided to be honest.

“I quite like lunch,” he said, casting a smile down at you.

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully. He bumped his shoulder against yours, and you giggled even more.

You were eventually able to fall into a comfortable conversation, walking around the castle with ease. His hands tucked themselves into his pockets, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You eventually stopped in the courtyard, and George led you over to a bench under a large tree.

You sat close to each other, and he was painfully aware of the way your leg rubbed against his. He looked down at the spot where your skirt ended and your tights began, a lump forming in his throat. He looked at the side of your face, you seemed wonderfully content. Your eyes scanned the array of plants in front of you, looking at each of the vibrant flowers that were beginning to bloom.

“I really am sorry about your hand,” he said, partly as an excuse to pick up your hand and pretend to look at the healed cut.

Your felt tingles shoot down your arm at the unexpected touch. You looked at the hair that fell over his forehead as he peered down at your hand, holding it delicately.

“Oh, it’s alright,” you said reassuringly, “accidents happen.”

He smiled at your kindness, your eyes meeting. This time, you were sure he was looking at your lips. Your eyes danced around his face, and you felt your lips curling into a smile as he watched them.

“Would you mind if-” he croaked out, but the words seemed to be caught in his throat.

You giggled, and he dropped your hand, his head rolling back as a bought of laughter came from him. He suddenly seemed the most relaxed he had ever been.

Suddenly, when his head came to face yours again, his hands snaked up to hold your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and your smile did too. He brought your face to his, and you had realized what he was going to ask you just a second ago.

His hands were warm, and the callouses felt nice against your soft cheeks. His kiss was soft and gentle, and he waited for you to reciprocate. Your hands traveled up to wrap around his neck, and the second your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, his kiss intensified.

One of his hands traveled down to your neck, and his thumb grazed your jaw. The other slithered to your hair, and he lightly pushed your face even closer to his. Your nose pressed into his cheek and you leaned closer, your shoulder bumping into his. His tongue trailed over your bottom lip, and you sighed, opening your mouth to his.

“Ew! Get a room!”

You heard two voices shouting towards you. You pulled away, much to George’s dismay, who stayed in the same place with his eyes closed.

You looked over George’s shoulder and saw his brother and his friend.

“George,” you nudged him, casting your blushing cheeks and sheepish smile down at your lap, “I think you’re needed.”

George groaned, opening his eyes slowly. His hand was still tangled in your hair, and he slowly removed it. You felt chills as his hand raked over your neck and down your yellow tie, attempting to keep your close.

“What?” he said so poisonously, that your eyes widened.

“Keep it in your pants!” the younger redhead called out, shoving his shoulder against his friends, laughing.

“I swear to-” you heard George mumbled, already moving from his seat next to you and off to his brother.

The smaller redhead shoved his books into Harry’s chest, setting off in a run. Harry laughed loudly as George chased after his younger brother. George pulled his wand from his waistband, pointing it at Ron and easily casting a spell that bound a rope at Ron’s feet. Ron fell to the ground with a thud and George stood over him, smiling evilly.

He looked back at you, watching as you covered an entertained laugh with your hand. His face melted into pure admiration, and he abandoned Ron, leaving him tied up in the grass. George broke out in a jog, determined to hear your sweet laugh.

[meruz]

any advice for comic layouts?? i really like the way you do ur comics

this is a really interesting question!! and it took me a lot of thinking as to how to answer.... I don’t know if I can give advice per se because I feel like I’m still figuring out a comics process myself, but I can try to walk you through what I’ve done thus far

Lets take this one page comic..

my comic process tends to be 2 tiered. once I have an idea of what I want to draw, I have a brainstorming/sketch phase where I will essentially just jot down whatever layouts and images first come to mind and experiment with them, making a bunch of drawings that have minor tweaks (shown above as Draft 1).You can see I really wanted to sell the deadpan expression in the last panel so I sketched out a couple different iterations. And I wanted to explore what the latte art would look like and how it would transform. A lot of this is not very well drafted, just ugly shorthand just to see what resonates with me visually. I generally do this on paper (often with pen) so I don’t feel the compulsion to fiddle with any particular drawing too much. less focus on perfecting and more focus on iterating.

Once I think I’ve got a good idea of the visuals, I’ll bring it into the computer where I can copy paste and move things around with transform tools in order to come up with a rough layout. My thought process kind of goes like this

I know I want the 1st and 4th panel to hit hard so I prioritize them in the layout and make them break the gutters. the other panels I keep contained and focus on pacing/contrast to tell their story. I think a comic page can generally have only one or two big moments before it becomes cluttered so it’s important for me to establish those first and work around it.

Similar goes for a slightly longer comic.

The process remains pretty much the same. This one is a scene adapted from a videogame cutscene so I’m working from a bit of a script and a bit of the cutscene compositions. I spend a bunch of time at my sketchbook brainstorming and I figure out pretty early on I’ll probably need two pages between the dialogue I want to fit in, the set up of the threat, and the big line drop. I know I want a panel where asch is standing in the middle of the room surrounded by enemies so I do some sketches to test out his silhouette and try to figure out if I want him to be half turned to the camera or fully turned when he says his big line. By the end of it I’m starting to piece together a layout.

Thought process is as follows:

Every piece of art has to be planned around the format through which its consumed and for comics on the internet its either a scroll or a click. I’m posting this comic in two pages so I want to plan for my impact to be made on clicking from one page to the next which spurs me to put the close-up at the head of the 2nd page. Since I want to build tension up to that reveal I consciously decide to make most of the panels on the first page small and obscure stuff like faces so things feel rushed and uncertain. for comics small panel = fast and big panel = slow. in terms of how the reader processes the information. I save the single big panel on the 1st page for the establishing shot of the conflict and add in a panel at the bottom to start the proverbial drum beat for the 2nd pg reveal.

I make the 2nd panel on the 2nd page a big one to let the page turn line ring in the air and also to solidly establish how the perspective of the battle turns when you realize the character’s resolve.

Of course, I didn’t think any of that stuff to myself as I was making it. I think a common misconception I want to dispel is that, contrary to how it appears when people break down comic pages, few artists will explicitly plan out the way your eye is supposed to move across the page. I think more likely is that if you read a lot of comics and you draw a lot of comics you form a visual (non-verbal! often unconscious) understanding of what has impact and what will create tension and which speechbubbles to read first. And putting it to paper is just trial and error coming off of that instinct. Maybe. I don’t know.

Sorry this is really rambly. And I don’t really have any advice... I guess if I had to sum it up... be aware of what you want the reader to focus on, where you want the reader to gasp and where you want them to laugh. what you want the reader to know vs not know. this sort of stuff should inform your decision making the most.

Also don’t take my advice. There’s a lot of people who are way better at this stuff than me. I recommend reading comics you like and studying them! And heres some resources also I guess

- Understanding Comics/Reinventing Comics/Making Comics by Scott Mccloud

I specifically had Making Comics on my shelf (one of my RISD classes forced me to buy it lol) but the others are great too. I think some may look at the Scott Mccloud books and call them basic but that’s just another way to say /fundamental/. They’re great at explaining the bare bones of comics and entertaining to boot so always worth at least a look, I think.

- Framed Ink by Marcos Mateu-Menstre

This book is less about comics and more about general visual storytelling... iirc Mateu-menstre mainly does storyboarding professionaly. But it’s a great overview of the composition of visual storytelling. This guy is also like a perspective extraordinaire.

- Wally Wood’s 22 panels that always work

This is just this one cheat sheet image but it’s worth studying. Wally Wood was a Silver Age american comics artist who made this page with his assistant in part to coach younger Marvel comics artists.

OK IM DONE TALKING :’ ) happy october everyone

[tokyoteddywolf]

An Armful Of Feelings, A Shance One-Shot

*wheezes* okay, this grew way over what i originally planned, but i also kind of like how it turned out, so here, have a Shance one shot with a lot of fluff, a splash of angst, and a bit of a surprise. :)

keep in mind: Lance is 22, Shiro is 26, Pidge is 20, Hunk is 22, and Keith is 23.

Enjoy! (This is 5,000+ words that got way out of hand....)

Prompt: “it seems we’re the only two people in this class that actually know what the fuck is going on want to team up for this project and ruin everybody’s lives” au

Lance yawned as the teacher droned on and on about some cellular structure, and sleepily scribbled down the notes. Even if he was twenty two, college could still make you feel like you were back in middle school. He took this Human Based Technology class mainly because he was a top student when it came to human anatomy and specialized in nerves and muscles, and planned to go into neurology. He figured it would be an easy class to pass, and boy was he right. His friend Pidge, who was an actual certified genius, flicked a small paper ball at him to get his attention. He looked over at her and snorted at the dead look on her face. Yup, she was bored too.

“Alright class! As you know, the Fall Semester is ending soon in a little over a month. Therefore, your final assignments shall be given out today so that you may have the entire month to work on your projects.” Lance perked up at this information. Final assignment? A month? Why would they need a month to work on a project? “The reason you have the rest of the semester to work on this, is because it is a contest as well. You must take some form of human based technology and either produce a study on it or improve it so as to better improve the lives of those who use it. If you decide to do a study paper, you are excused from the contest as everything is graded based on presentation. If you decide to improve the technology you've decided on, you must bring a model, blueprints, a speech on how it works, and a demonstration or slide. You may work in pairs for this project, and everything is due before the final day of class.”

Lance and Pidge slowly turned to each other and grinned like a pair of wicked Cheshire Cats. “Wanna team up since we're the only ones who know anything in this class?” Pidge asked, smirking. Lance's face matched her own. “Fuck yes, let's wreck these losers.” He purred, the two friends chuckling evilly as the rest of the class realized that there was no way in hell they would beat these two at their best subject.

“So, what should we try first? Wheelchairs? We could attempt hover technology...” Pidge said, idly nibbling the end of her pencil as she lay on her bed with a notepad in front of her, Lance eagle spread on the floor staring at the ceiling. “Nah, hover technology hasn't been researched enough yet, and people are already working on improving it.” The Cuban male huffed, waving his hand in dismissal. Pidge hummed thoughtfully, wracking her brain for any more ideas, and blinked as her phone dinged and lit up with a notification.

She unlocked her phone and checked the message, noting that it was from her brother's friend Shiro. Shiro went to the same college as her and Lance, actually. He was working on a Masters degree in veterinary practice after his break in the Military. He was four years older than Lance, six older than her. She glanced over to her bored meme loving pal, smirking slightly. Lance and Shiro actually knew each other through Shiro's younger brother Keith, though Shiro hadn't really talked with Lance much, and Lance had the biggest fucking crush on the Japanese-American she'd ever seen. It was admittedly kind of cute yet frustrating because when Lance pines, he pines hard.

Sighing, she read the message.

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

hey pidge my arm is acting up again, can you come over to take a look at it real quick?

Pidgeotto The Great

yeah sure give me a while tho im busy thinking of a project to work on for a class.

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

okay thanks. :)

Pidgeotto The Great

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

why are you like this

Pidge laughed and shook her head, grinning. Lance sat up. “What's so funny?” He asked, raising a perfect eyebrow. Pidge shrugged. “Just Shiro. He needs some help with his prosthetic. It's probably the inner joints again, probably just flexed something wrong and the attachment slipped.” She explained, blinking at the sudden thoughtful look on Lance's face. “I know that look. What idea do you have this time?” She asked, sitting up properly as Lance got to his feet and grabbed the notepad and pencil, scribbling something down and mumbling to himself.

Pidge knew better than to interrupt him while he was in Thinking Mode, so she settled against the wall lining her bed and watched him pace back and forth while he jotted down notes and was muttering something that sounded like calculations. When he finally turned to Pidge, she blinked in surprise as he suddenly shoved the notepad into her lap. “We can do this for the project! It's perfect!” Lance chirped as his small genius friend read over the notes with a critical eye. A huge grin split her face as she looked from the notepad to her beaming pal. “Okay, but if we do this, we're gonna have to ask Shiro for help. You gonna be able to control your awkward crush self around him enough to get any work done?” She teased, noting how he got a little red cheeked and shuffled in place.

“Yeah, as long as I focus on the project and not Shiro himself...” Lance explained, still a little flustered. “I'll give him a quick text and have him come over so we can chat about this in person!” Pidge cheered, picking up her phone and quickly typing out a message to the source of the project's idea.

Pidgeotto The Great

actually, do u think u can come over to my dorm real quick??? I need to talk to you about smth and id rather do it in person than over the phone. I'll fix ur arm while ur here, since I keep my tools with me.

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

Yeah, sure, I can do that :) What exactly do you want to talk about?

Pidgeotto The Great

u'll see when you get here, its nothing bad. I have smth to show you as well, so hurry up and get ur ass over here!

Absolutely Shiro-Done With Life

Language, Katie. But sure, i'll be there in a few minutes.

Pidgeotto The Great

ur not my dad (=^=) but yeah see you soon!

Lance was the one to open the door and let Shiro in, since Pidge was busy working on the blueprints Lance had roughly sketched out. “Hey Shiro! Glad you got here so fast, me and Pidge really need your help on this.” The skinny man said, grinning and thanking everything holy that he'd taken all those drama and acting classes back in high school, appearing as his normal, aloof self while Shiro smiled back. “Hey, been a while since we've talked, huh? So, what do you two want to talk to me about?” Shiro asked as Lance let him inside, shutting the door behind him and moving over to where Pidge was working at her desk.

Pidge looked up at the sound of Shiro's voice and grinned. “Well, you know how me and Lance have that Human Based Technology class? There's a big project we have to do, and me and Lance got to team up for it!” The small girl explained cheerfully, though the light malice in her smile had Shiro shuddering a little. Pidge had no mercy in competitions, she was a terrifying opponent in a battle of technology and wills. “And I'm supposed to help you how?” Shiro asked with a raised eyebrow, curious.

“Well, we're supposed to take a human based technology and improve it further, so Lance and I were thinking of doing prosthetics and wanted to ask you if you'd let us modify your arm!” Pidge declared, sitting up and pushing her glasses back into place. Shiro blinked, startled, looking over to Lance, who nodded, then focused back on Pidge. “You… want to make me a new arm?” he asked, a little confused and a slight bit apprehensive. His current prosthetic wasn't all that advanced, and often ached during cold weather or the joints would stick and refuse to bend, and would twinge painfully at the connections sometimes. Lance jumped into the conversation to explain. “No, not a new arm, a better arm, one that should work like it was your old flesh one instead of metal, at least according to my calculations.”

Pidge nodded enthusiastically, and picked up the notebook to show him the detailed layout of the arm Lance had sketched, complicated words and numbers scribbled next to the diagram. Shiro scanned the page, eyebrow raising higher and higher until he looked at both students with a conflicted expression on his face. “If I agree to this, what exactly do you need me to do?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Pidge motioned to Lance.

“Well, all we'd need at first are measurements. Once the prototype is finished, we'd test how the cuff attachment fits on you, then make sure it was comfortable before connecting it to the actual prosthetic. Once everything is done and all the tests are finished, we'd have to take off your old prosthetic to put the new one on. The new arm is supposed to use extremely tiny needles to enter your, ah, stump, and connect to the proper nerves and muscles like how it is for a flesh arm, and connects to your neural pathways so that the electric impulses you use to move your body are used by the prosthetic as well. Basically giving you an arm you use with your brain rather than your muscles.” Lance explained in all seriousness, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to. We can always just do a model and some blueprints and just explain how it works...” He mumbled, scuffing at the carpet with a sock covered foot. Shiro hummed thoughtfully, turning the idea over in his mind for a few minutes.

“Pleeeeaaaaseee Shiro?” Pidge whined, turning big brown puppy eyes to the six-years-her-senior man. “You'd let me and Lance build you a new arm, right? I am the little sister of your best friend after all~!” Shiro wavered, before glancing over to Lance and immediately regretting it as the Cuban male also turned the pleading pout on him, big blue eyes and trembling lips and oh god dammit he was going to agree to this one way or another wasn't he?

Shiro sighed. “Alright then, I'll let you do this. But you better go all out. Anything less than an A and I'm calling Matt.” Pidge whooped and Lance grinned before yelping as he was yanked into a group hug by the excited girl, Shiro getting dragged in and pressing against Lance's side and oh boy he hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt- “Thank you thank you thank you Shiro!!! Me and Lance are gonna build you the best fucking arm this side of the moon!” Pidge declared, arms around both of her taller friends. Shiro laughed and contributed to the group hug, a quick squeeze, before pulling back. Lance missed the heat almost instantly.

“Come back over tomorrow and we should have some blueprint outlines done. I'll take your arm measurements then. For now, let me take a look at your current prosthetic. You said it was acting up, right?”

Lance sat on the bed, fighting down a blush and distracted himself with scribbling out more detailed sketches of the new prosthetic, listening to Pidge and Shiro chat as she fixed up his arm.

A week later, Lance hissed in pain as a piece of the metal arm shell he was working on slipped and cut his palm. Pulling back, he shook his hand, trying to work off the sharp throbbing pain. “Lance, are you okay?” Shiro asked from where Pidge was examining his arm again, the joints having been sticking a lot more than usual recently. “Just peachy. The metal doesn't want to work with me today.” Lance groaned, scrutinizing the blood welling up from the cut. It wasn't very deep, but not shallow enough that he wouldn't bleed.

Concerned, Shiro got up, moved over and took his hand to take a look, not noticing the sudden flush on Lance's cheeks as he clicked his tongue in worry. “That's going to need a bandage for sure… Hey Pidge, where are the bandages?” Shiro asked, turning to where Pidge was watching the exchange with amusement. “Desk drawer, third from the top.” She replied, and Shiro dragged Lance over to sit in Pidge's green swivel chair, rummaging around in the mentioned drawer and pulling out a box of large band-aids, the kind you use for knee scrapes.

“Here, let me see.” The larger man ordered, and Lance swallowed thickly before holding his bloody hand out, palm up. “Here, use this to wipe up the blood before he drips on my floor.” Pidge called, tossing an old towel over to Shiro, who caught it and started cleaning away the red liquid before unwrapping and carefully pressing the band-aid on. Lance was 90% sure his heart was about to jump out of his throat. “There, is that better?” Shiro asked, and released Lance's hand. The Cuban male laughed awkwardly and stepped back to breathe. “Uh, yeah, it does feel better. Thanks, Shiro.” He admitted with a wry grin, Shiro smiling back in relief.

“Okay, tender bro moment over, Shiro get your ass back over here so I can finish up adjusting that joint.” Pidge drawled lazily from her spot on the bed, amused when both men jumped, startled, like they'd forgotten she was there. “Ah, right. Sorry.” Shiro muttered, before moving away to go sit next to Pidge and her array of tools. Lance cleared his throat nervously before going back to working on the model prosthetic he was attempting to build.

To be honest with himself, that was probably the closest he'd ever gotten to holding Shiro's hand…

“No no, Lance, the blue wire connects to this finger, not that one.” Hunk directed his best friend gently, as Lance was working on the hand part of the prosthetic back at his own dorm. It had already been two weeks since the whole bandage incident, and Lance's crush had started to spiral out of control the more time he spent with the older man. Ever since then it just seemed to get worse and Lance had no idea how to fix it. Small encouraging comments as he worked on the wiring, smiles and soft looks, they'd even started trading stories on their families. (Lance had so much blackmail on Keith now, it made even Pidge impressed. And she was the Queen of blackmail.)

Sure Lance was known as the campus flirt, but he never really succeeded in any of his endeavors. He'd dated before, but it's not like he ever had to deal with a crush this bad, and he really didn't want to mess up the current dynamic he shared with Shiro, so confessing was a no go. Sighing, he set the tangled up mess of fingers and wires down and groaned into his hands.

Hunk, his roommate, best friend and mechanical genius, raised an eyebrow. “You doin' okay buddy? If it's too confusing I can always take a look for you...” He asked, concerned. Lance huffed out a short laugh. “No, it's not that. I'm just having some… problems with my feelings lately, that's all.” Hunk made a soft, drawn out 'oh' sound and smiled sympathetically, patting Lance on the back.

“Ah, I see, you're crushing hard on someone again. Still Shiro or do you have your eye on someone new?” Lance sighed. “Nope, still stuck on Shiro… and now that we're doing this whole new prosthetic thing, we keep spending more time with each other and it's doing bad things to my heart, Hunk! I don't know how many more looks or praises I can take from the guy before my heart decides to give up and die in my throat! I'm dying from love, dude!” he whined, slumping against his pal. Hunk chuckled and ruffled his roommate's hair affectionately.

“You'll live, buddy. Remember how bad I was with Shay before I told her how I felt?” Lance snorted. “Yeah, I remember. You kept baking foods that were a little too salty and binged on chocolate chip cookies. You were afraid of her brother and how he'd react if you tried dating her.” Hunk grinned sheepishly. “Don't get me wrong, he still scares me, but everything ended up just fine once I confessed and I now have the sweetest girlfriend on campus.” “Dude, you and Shay have been the reigning champions of the Cutest Couple title for two years running.” Lance deadpanned, and Hunk laughed. “I think you and Shiro would be cuter than me and Shay, honestly. But, if you're going to confess, you'd better do it in the best way possible.” The engineer said cheerfully. “Oh yeah? How?” Lance grumbled, tilting his head from his pal's shoulder to look at Hunk's smirking face.

“Why, in the most dramatic and Lance-like way possible, of course!”

The two boys didn't stop laughing for hours after that.

“So, exactly how is this supposed to work?” Keith asked the tiny technology expert as she finished adjusting the attachment cuff and corrected the size, looking intrigued by the now mostly formed arm. Pidge sighed.

“Well, this cuff keeps his arm from falling off. All we have to do is slide the inner mechanism parts into the metal casing we made from the mold we made from Shiro's left arm and hand, though we flipped it so it became a right arm and hand, and then we connect it to this cuff that's supposed to fit over Shiro's stump to keep the prosthetic from falling out or disconnecting, which would probably be a little painful. The cuff is designed to hold onto the skin around his arm, tight enough to stay but loose enough to be comfortable and not constricting the blood flow. The arm itself is going to basically use a bunch of tiny, dissolving needles to shoot wires into his body and connect to the proper muscles and nerves you use to move your arm. Everything is going to be secured so that it won't disconnect, and the wires are supposed to also attach to the bone so that tugging on his prosthetic won't make it pop off. The cuff is just an added measure to keep everything from aching, since even though it's lightweight it's still going to ache a little if left hanging for too long. The adjusting nanomachine fabric I added will prevent chafing and will adjust when Shiro flexes or moves his arm. It also covers the scarring, which is an added bonus, since we all know he doesn't like looking at the reminders...” Pidge trailed off, and Keith nodded grimly.

“Yeah… I'm just glad the nightmares have mostly stopped...” Keith muttered, flopping down onto the ground. Shiro had gone to the Military after high school, and had stayed there for a few years before being honorably discharged after losing his arm during his time as a POW. Army life had changed his brother, and Keith was pretty sure most of it was for the worst. Nightmares, PTSD, a lost arm and a changed personality. He wasn't as happy-go-lucky as he used to be, and had lost a few memories too. It took him a long time to go back to college, but Keith was glad he did. He seemed to open up more nowadays, and was much less closed off than before. The young astrology student sighed and tilted his head to look at Pidge with a sudden smirk, and the upside down girl at the desk turned to give him a raised eyebrow look.

“So, how's the plan going?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Pidge laughed. “Stop that you dork. And the plan is working perfectly. It's only a matter of time now~!” The twenty year old woman sang, as her partner in crime gave her a thumbs up. “Soon, my conspiracy theory comrade, soon.” Keith purred sinisterly, and Pidge giggled evilly. “They'll never know what hit them.”

Lance exhaled deeply and rolled his shoulders. Today was the day. The deadline was tomorrow, and they had finally finished building the prosthetic arm and put it through more tests than he'd taken in his junior year of high school. Every single test proved the arm was ready. Now all that was left was actually attaching it to Shiro. He knocked on the door, and when he was let inside, he was faced with Pidge, more serious than he'd ever seen her before. “You ready for this?” The gremlin asked, quirking a brow at him. Lance nodded firmly. “Let's get this show on the road.”

They started setting up everything they needed, like pillows, towels, adjustment tools and double checked the testing checklist they would use once the arm was properly connected to Shiro's body. “Okay, I called Hunk and Keith over as well, because we need to document this and I can't hold a camera while adjusting connections and you can't either since you're the one moving it into place.” Pidge informed him as she prepped the prosthetic for attachment, as Shiro would arrive with Keith. Lance nodded from his spot on the bed, where he was arranging the pillows for Shiro to sit with in order to keep him as still as possible while they put the new arm on.

Sure enough, less than a half hour later, an engineering student, an astrology student and a veterinary student walked through the door like the start to a weird joke with a bad punchline. “You ready for this, Shiro?” Pidge asked as said man settled onto the bed and clutched a pillow with his good arm. “As ready as I'll ever be.” He joked, though it sounded a little strained. “Okay, first things first, we have to take off the old arm. Try not to freak out, okay?” Pidge warned, knowing about his panic attacks and giving fair caution before she tried anything.

Shiro swallowed thickly and nodded. “Don't worry, it's not going to hurt, and I'll stop if it gets too bad.” Pidge soothed before she moved around him to start undoing the latches and connections to his stump. Shiro did really well, at least until she actually pulled off the arm. That's when everything went wrong. Shiro started hyperventilating, eyes darting around frantically and pained noises leaking through his tight-lipped mouth.

“Shiro, calm down, you're okay, it's just me, Pidge, see? I'm not hurting you, you're in my room, and- WOAH!” Pidge tried to calm down the former soldier, but ducked with a short scream when Shiro lashed out at her. Good thing nobody was in the dorms at this time of day. Lance was thankful for the soundproof walls as Shiro panicked through his flashback, the older man wheezing for the people he couldn't see to leave his arm alone.

“Shiro! Snap out of it! You aren't in the enemy camp, you're safe, it's okay!” Keith yelped, attempting to hold down his big brother, and ultimately getting hurled across the room. Hunk stepped in and managed to hook his arms around Shiro's shoulders to restrain him, but his legs still flailed and kicked frantically, and Lance was terrified that he was going to hurt himself like this. So he did a stupid, very Lance thing and stepped closer to the writhing, screeching man, ignoring the sharp flash of pain across his arm when nails sliced into them, and carefully put his hands on Shiro's cheeks to force him to look into ocean blue eyes. Hunk tightened his grip on the man.

Shiro panted and wheezed, chest heaving, his knee drove itself into Lance's gut but Lance was more durable than he looked, so he toughed it out and spoke as calmly as he could. “Shiro, you have to snap out of it, buddy. You are just fine, nobody here is taking your arm. You're okay. It's not real. Look at me, because I am real and whatever you're seeing isn't. Just, focus on me, okay?” He asked, though his stomach ached and was probably gonna bruise and his heart was pounding like crazy. Shiro slowly started to calm down, silver eyes unclouded and looking at him, and Lance could hear the background sound of Pidge helping Keith up.

Less than twenty minutes later had Lance sitting next to a prosthetic-less Shiro, rubbing small circles into his back as his crush quietly sipped a glass of water. Pidge was doing a minor repair to the new prosthetic, since it had gotten knocked over in the struggle, so they had a little while to breathe. Shiro cleared his throat gently. “I uh, I'm sorry for freaking out like that… you were all just trying to help...” He murmured, subdued and solemn.

Lance laughed lightly. “Nah, man, it's okay. I've had worse from my siblings. Plus, we knew you might freak, going in. Nobody blames you for having the reaction you did, it's only natural after what happened to you back then… But, now everything is okay again, and once Pidge finishes up you'll have a new arm!” He reassured, smiling. Shiro huffed, mouth twitching up in a faint smile.

Keith and Hunk were currently in the dorm kitchen working on getting some food after the whole fiasco, so it was just Lance, Shiro and Pidge in the room for now. Pidge piped up from her spot at her desk. “Lance is right, Shiro! Though he still shot down my idea of getting a bulletproof vest.” She sounded like she was pouting, and Shiro blinked. “They only stop projectiles, Pidge, they don't protect you all that great from a kick to the chest. You'd still get tossed and bruised.” Lance defended himself, rolling his eyes. This led to an intense debate between the two on force, inertia, the density of padding versus the strength of a kick, the vulnerability of the human body, and a bunch of other terms that had Shiro feeling like he was in the middle of a scientific lecture on physics.

Luckily, the debate ended with the return of Keith and Hunk with a large plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and various other snacks. Pidge finished checking the wiring and nodded in satisfaction, moving over to Shiro. Hunk held up the camera. “Right, we're rolling!” The big man signaled. “Okay, on three, big guy.” She muttered, Lance getting into position to hold the arm steady. Shiro nodded, keeping as still as possible as Pidge unlatched the cuff and pressed it into place at the edge of his stump, lining up the tiny near-invisible needles to the correct marks Lance had traced onto a diagram earlier.

Lance's sharp eyes and steady hands guided the robot arm into place, and Pidge counted under her breath. “One...two...three!” On three, she and Lance moved and quickly attached the prosthetic, Pidge's quick fingers moving up to lock the cuff over the held position of the arm, which triggered the launching of the needles and wires.

Shiro grunted as a prickling feeling erupted all over his shoulder and stump as the needles did their work, attaching the wires to their assigned places and nerves. The needles were made of condensed nutrients that were absorbed by the body once their job was done. The cuff locked into place, keeping everything still as the tingly feeling faded away and Shiro now had a hunk of metal connected to him.

“Alright, now we just wait a few moments for the nerves to kick in… Shiro, let me know if you start feeling any phantom pains or anything like when you had your actual right arm, because that means it's starting to work.” Lance ordered as he and Pidge moved away to let the arm do it's work. Shiro nodded, his brain getting used to the new attachment, until he suddenly jolted and started staring at the arm in shock.

“Shiro?” Keith asked, worried. Shiro's reply was a near whisper. “I- It's like I can feel the wires like muscles…” Pidge's eyes lit up. “Okay, try telling it to move with your brain!” Shiro nodded and narrowed his eyes, concentrating, and the fingers twitched. A quiet gasp echoed in the room. “Try again, like, give us a wave maybe?” Lance asked, and Shiro complied, the arm twitching and suddenly moving up to wave at the camera. A grin started to spread over Shiro's face. Pidge bounced up and down on the balls of her feet excitedly as she whipped out the testing checklist.

Shiro then proceeded to ace every single test with ease, becoming more and more used to using the arm as each test went by. Soon he didn't even have to focus too hard in order to move it, as it worked just like a real arm. Shiro couldn't stop smiling, and it was honestly the most adorable thing Lance had ever seen. Once the final test had passed, Pidge declared him officially cleared to use it however he liked. The first thing he did was scoop the prosthetic creators up in a huge hug, laughing joyfully and spinning them around, much to  Pidge's loud squawking protest and Lance's surprised yelp.

Shiro actually even kissed the girl on the forehead and Lance on the cheek in gratitude before letting them go and practically bounding over to his brother like an overeager puppy to show off how his new arm moved. Keith had never seen Shiro like this before in his life, so he was a little blinded by the beaming smile on his older brother's face.

Hunk wandered over to Lance, trying not to laugh at how the biologist student was bent over, one hand supporting him on the desk while the other clutched at his heart as he wheezed and sputtered through a blushing face that put the color of a red bell pepper to shame. Hunk gently reminded Lance to breathe while Shiro practically sang praises behind them. Lance couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day, and neither did Shiro. Pidge had new blackmail material on Lance, and quite happily shared it with Keith. Lance also didn't sleep that night, at least not as well as usual.

They got an A+, and the blueprints were actually being sent to the top research facility in prosthetics! Pidge could not stop freaking out over this news, and was currently walking behind Lance and Shiro, babbling to her parents about it. They were on their way back from the last class of the day, as everyone was getting ready for the break between semesters since the last day of school was tomorrow. Pidge waved them ahead as she continued to talk with her brother over the phone, so it was just the two college students as they walked towards the dorm building.

Lance walked next to Shiro, humming idly as his eyes flicked over to the taller male now and then. “So, Lance?” Shiro started, and Lance jumped slightly, not having expected Shiro to start talking. “Uh, yeah? What's up?” He asked, trying not to seem a little panicked. “So, uh, I was wondering… are you free this weekend?” That was not a question Lance was expecting, and he stumbled over a loose chunk of concrete on the sidewalk, falling forwards with a yelp, scrunching his eyes in anticipation for the inevitable crash to the ground.

Which… never came, as two strong arms shot forward and caught him before he hit concrete, one smooth metal and the other firm, warm skin and muscle. “Woah, are you okay?” Shiro asked, concerned, and Lance blinked up at him and offered an awkward smile as he scrambled to stand back on his own two legs. “Yeah, I'm cool, just didn't notice the pothole, haha.” He joked, attempting to cover up his embarrassment. Letting go of his hold on the other, Shiro smiled warmly at him. “Oh good. So, about this weekend… maybe I could treat you to lunch or something?” Oh, they were already at the dorms...

Lance smiled at the slight flush over the taller man's cheeks. “Yeah, I'm free on Saturday, if you'd like...” Shiro's smile widened. “Great! It's a date then. See you around, Lance!” Lance's jaw dropped as Shiro gave him a friendly wave goodbye and started jogging up the stairs to his floor. Lance could practically feel his face turning redder and redder as he processed the words.

“It's a date then!…..It's a date then….a date….”

Later, Hunk came home to find Lance screaming into the thickest pillow they had, and laughed like crazy when he learned the reason why.

That year, there was a new Cutest Couple in the yearbook. Lance had never been happier in his life, and Shiro was just as pleased.

Two college students, finally free from school, sat next to each other on lounge chairs outside a cute little drink store and watched people walk by. Both were wearing clothes more suited for summer, the man in a tank top and shorts, the woman in a t-shirt and jean shorts. Oddly enough, both were wearing sunhats and sunglasses.

The shorter woman sipped her lime green syrupy drink and smirked at her phone where a picture of two men holding hands, laughing, popped up on a Facebook post. The man next to her mirrored the smirk, and reached out his fist to bump against hers while he drank his own cherry red Italian soda.

“What do you think, Keith?”

“Pidge, I do believe that we can proclaim this mission, accomplished.”

The plan had worked, and the two lovebirds were none the wiser.

[shitneytears]

taking stock of where I'm at

long ass ugly ass post but I'm just thinking about a lot of things rn so I'm just gunna vomit it all out here and deal with it………. never

if you know me irl feel free to read this y'all know I'm an open book anyway idc.

I need to go to a dentist p bad now, my teeth have been fine my whole life like pretty straight and healthy jus a lil stained but thats fine whatever I'm not after hollywood white anytime soon; but atm I'm noticing they look like they're slowly moving and starting to misalign and look BAD and i want to deal with it before it gets too bad. I don't mind if i have to have braces (even tho i cant afford that l o l) but i DONT want braces on for next summer because if i have to graduate and have my grad pic taken with braces in i will fuckin end everything i cant i caNT have that. Also i want a hygienist to scrape all the shit off my entire mouth and like, polish and blast it back to neutral bcus even when i am cleaning my teeth atm they're just… they never LOOK clean which is starting to……… get me down??? not rlly but its just another thing I'm thinking about.

my DIET fuck ME. It was fine when i started it and it was a LOT of hard work for me to try some new foods but I've done it and proud of that, like iKNOW thats a huge step for me! but now the initial novelty is worn away I'm very very over it. I've learnt there are some veg i don't mind eating, but they're not \GOOD/ they're just there, and id always rather cook a recipe without them, the things that are new that aren't veg are the only things I've tried that id want to adopt into my actual normal eating habits??? like I'm enjoying sushi, sea bass, and steak too! (yeh I've never had steak before I'm fucking poor we don't buy nice meats so fuck off) couscous is very dependant on what you add to it but hey it is good sometimes! carrots are evil and sweet potato is just not the same as normal potato its nowhere near as good stop pretending sweet potato fries are good they're weird. I like yoghurt lots and should buy it more often tbh. anyway its just another thing I've got to think about and I'm TIRED of having to think about so many things

on a related note to that, it is having good results! i am loosing a lil bit of weight and can see a difference and I'm enjoying seeing my arms and legs looking a little more defined even after just 3 weeks!!!1! but my workouts are starting to have a lot less energy and I'm finding it VERY hard to find the mental and physical energy to drag myself to the gym at the moment. I mean i also do rlly miss going with michael bcus those few weeks were like the gym golden times honestly. so much fun.

i keep just sleeping, then spending like 3 hours slowly dragging myself to the gym nd doing breakfast and stuff and getting back home with my food for the day to cook off. its just. a lot. then i tend to just sit on my phone doing NOTHING until going to bed… I'm just so sleepy and low energy its shiIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTT

The house maintanence is ridiculous too, we are so nearly done, i NEED them to replace that awful carpet and ill be good, its become such a huge mental block for me i cant SETTLE in my own home because its not quite done yet which is yet aNOTEHR task

dont ask me about my dissertation don't ask me about it i want to work on it but i feel like I've got no time even tho i clearly do its just something i cant face when I'm this low on energy truly

men are all evil idiot babies so jot that down

helping nathaniel in london is still fun and even tho it takes a whole day away from my own life I'm really enjoying it and its a positive in this GLOOMY time!

i am SO grateful for the energy I'm getting from rebecca in this time honestlyyyyyy laughing and getting coffee with her so often is getting me THROUGH and my convo with amy last night uhhhhhhhh i miss me graphics buddies

i wanna be back at uni making work again, really bad, and i don't want that to end! and also balancing my work with my studies is gunna be hard but i wanna get back into my roles on the board and hopefully course rep again.

i just wish i wasn't so POOOOOOORRRRRRRRR, honestly its such a real thing being in uni and going through this experience I'm very clearly not from the same place as most of these people and I'm doing the very stereotypical gay thing of having to EXCEL in EVERYTHING to prove I'm worth being here whilst some of the other richer people can just waste away their days and squander the whole degree its so frustrating they have that sense of entitlement to their space here when 100000 working class people would happily take that place and work harder with it.

having to be UR OWN male role model is exhausting but i gotta keep going, even if i need a 4 month break, gotta keep pushing as hard as possible all the time, because i gotta prove to my family that studying art wasn't a waste of money and time and i gotta be the positive male energy my brothers need so bad that i didn't have.