Last Season Of The Agents Of Shield Is What Last Season Of The 100 Wish To Be

i started demon slayer thinking it would be nothing like attack on titan and yet here i am crying over a character that appeared in manga only about ten times

april fools….???

I can’t believe that agents of shield did what Star Wars of all things couldn’t, that saving the day in the end is about love and empathy and compassion and not a level up to blow up the big bad baddie. Take notes, every show movie ever.

arthur is adorable and hot af and their first love thing with nimue was cute but that’s it and nothing more

i wish writers could give nimue more character. i really want to like her, but for now she is just okay to me, cause there is almost nothing interesting about her character.

i have hopes for second season and some character development.

all my love, seokmin

so

are we not going to talk about this?

really?

I see a lot of dark academia aesthetic involving the classics fields, literature and languages and theater and music, but can the STEM kids get in on this too? Where’s my dark science aesthetic at? where’s my STEM gothic?

•  It has to be a mistake, on the syllabus your professor e-mailed over yesterday. The lab class can’t possibly start at 8pm. Not that you’d notice the time of night anyway, considering that for some reason it’s held in a basement of the STEM buildings that you were sure was closed off. You’ve never seen anyone emerging from its depths, and honestly you’re not even sure how to get down there. But not to worry, your professor assures you when you reply with your concerns. He’ll send his TA to pick you up. Just try not to stare at their hand. Especially if it sparks. They’re still working out the kinks.

• The transparent lightboard you use in your apartment building for working out math equations that require more room is the only illumination piercing your otherwise dim living room. You’ve been working for hours, and haven’t noticed how late it’s become, mostly because you’re pretty sure that you accidentally just determined exactly when the world is going to end. Before you can grab your phone to tell everyone, there’s a knock at your door. “Well done,” the man and woman in dark clothes and glasses that reflect even the minor light so that you can’t see your eyes as they enter your apartment. “A little too well done, we think. You’ll be coming with us now.”

•   H2 = H 2 0 [ Ωm(1+z) 3 +ΩDEexp {3 Z/z 0 dz 1+z [1+w(z)]}

•  “We are doctors,” in heart if not yet in degree,” the neurologist teaching your afternoon class says, laughing. “We are the ones who stand between that looming reaper Death and all of our patients, scalpels and syringes in hand, and say “not today, old friend. Not this one.” But then the mirth fades from his voice, and his gaze drifts to the left of the lecture hall for some odd reason, fixed on some dark corner. “That’s why it hates us, you know. Death. All of us. We as doctors must be very, very careful in our everyday lives, because Death despises us for stalling its work time and time again, and it constantly has its eyes on us. Waiting for us to relax, to look away. There are rituals, as we get older and Death steps closer every day…” but then they come back to themselves, shaking their heads and laughing. “Not enough coffee for me today, apparently!” Shadows in the corner where no one sits seem to be shifting.

•  The chemistry majors always seem to know something that no one else does. They all keep tiny glass bottles of clove oil in their backpacks at all times, for some reason. You’re starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be smart for you to do the same.

•  The engineering majors know exactly what the chem majors think only they know, and they laugh when you mention the clove oil. “They really think that will protect them,” one future robotics pioneer says to you, shaking his head. “They really think they can stop what’s coming.”

•  Something in the forensics lab whispers at night, but only when a lone student is working down there alone. One of them snags you in the halls one morning and says, “I know you’re not forensics and you’ve never heard it before, but last night I was working on a paper down there and, well. It knows your name.”

• Your roommate is a biogenetics student. She keeps beakers brimming with bubbling fluids in the fridge, and she often seems restless and distracted. You’ve caught her stealing hair off of your brush before, and one night as you watch her mixing and stirring and taking notes as she’s hunched over her desk, you realize that a single blinking eyeball is staring back at you from the green fluid surrounding it in her glass tube.

•  The mathematics students have figured out what the chemistry students know, and what the engineering students have known for years. They all look anxious now, walking around campus and constantly looking over their shoulders. One of them suggests to you that maybe you should start stockpiling bottled water. Just in case.

•  An astronomy major comes barreling into one of your classes one dim and dying afternoon, slapping a star chart down onto a desk in front of a newly enlightened mathematics student, sweating and furious. “You weren’t even going to tell us, you bastard?! You were just going to let it happen while we sat around unprepared?!”

•  A week later. You sit up in bed and your roommate is gone. Their things are gone. Campus is still and quiet, the chem and engineering and astronomy and mathematics students having all cleared out save for you. The bio, forensics, and med students are left blinking, dazed. Clearly you’ve all missed something important, but your roommate responds to your text with assurance that it’s fine. You’ll all know soon enough.

:^D

tag yourself — you make my dawn

good to me: playful nudges to the shoulder, dancing on the streets, humming tunes, knowing looks, subtle grazing of skin, butterflies in your chest, long phone conversations, playing hard to get

home: nostalgia, longing looks, dying to be loved, dimly lit spaces, hopeful wishing, concealed sadness, bottled up feelings, walking alone at night

hug: tender gazes, sleepy smiles, falling asleep in someone’s arms, singing lullabies, gentle touches, forehead kisses, rain, silent i love you’s

chilli: neon lights, not minding the flow of time, laidback parties with close friends, staying up at night, goofy smiles, bopping to lowkey music, game nights, fever dreams

shhh: sneaking out at night, passionate gazes, sensual dancing in the middle of the club, sloppy kisses, tempting whispers, drunken nights, messy hair, ‘do you trust me?’

getting closer: sacrificing to satan, no sense of reality, ripped clothes, leather and chains, intense gazes, lip biting, multiple piercings, mood swings