Anonymous asked: SAY, WHAT IS YOUR THESIS ABOUT? IF YOU DONT MIND.
FOR ALL MY BITCHING, I REALLY DO LOVE MY THESIS, SO.
I’m a pre-med major, but I discovered over the summer that I really, really hate research. Which I pretty much knew already but now I have proof, so. But the point is that when I picked my thesis topic I said flat out that I would do an experimental thesis when Satan built a snow fort, and the guy in charge of the pre-medical studies division was my Orgo teacher so he knew not to fuck with me. (Teachers tend to fall into one of two categories with me: they get angry about butting heads with me nonstop OR they come to terms with the fact that it’s kind of like trying to corral a hurricane and thereupon give up.)
So I thought about what I could stand doing for a full year and decided that things I like include:
- Medicine
- History
- Military history
- Weird facts about old battle tactics
- Things that make other people’s eyes bug out when I tell them
- The Princess Bride
- Being a fucking smart-ass
And subsequently I am writing my thesis on the development of battlefield medicine through American history and I’m gonna title that bitch Only Mostly Dead.
Anonymous asked: WILL WE BE SEEING ANY MORE OF THE ALL IN ONE SPOT AU
YES WE WILL, I ACTUALLY HAVE LIKE FOUR PROMPTS BUT UNFORTUNATELY I HAVE ZERO BANDWIDTH TO, LIKE, FUNCTION.
SENIOR YEAR, KIDDIES, DON’T DO THIS TO YOURSELVES.
BUT REST ASSURED, I DEARLY LOVE THE AIOS AU AND WILL BE WRITING ALL THE PROMPTS ONCE I’M NOT EXHAUSTING MYSELF WITH MY THESIS ALL THE TIME.
Seriously, though, I’m going to try to get at least one more installment out before I go back to school, and I WILL get to the rest of the prompts.
Anonymous asked: Ego sum perlaetus ti lectito "Secrete Historium"! Est unum mi gratus libri. Loquor de libri, ego habeo duo libri de "Winnie Il Pu." Mi finis est ut lego illis.
Habebatis tu adipisci mi ultimus nuntius? Ego empticius verus Latine dictionarium nunc. Est a MCMXLVIII! Ego spes mi Latine emendo.
Corculum! Nuntium ultimum tui accipiebam, sed occupatissima sum–thesem scribo. Aliquando ultra lassa sum, Latineque laboriosus est. Et librum tuum optimum esse puto! Aliqua in domo mea, “Harry Potter et Philosopi Lapis” Latine habeo, sed lego non diu.
Si vis, modicum Latinum te docere possum? Ego etiam discipula sum, sed scriptos Ciceronis Virgilisque legere possum, et grammaticam Latini scio.
Anonymous asked: So far 2017 has been the worst. My dad is in the hospital and has a ripped kidney my dog ran away and she is a tiny dog and we dont even know if shes alive and I haven't slept since the first and I have the worst headache and I dont know what to do
Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix it for you. At the very least, I can offer some tricks that work for me when I have a migraine, try and fix at least part of it?
- Take a Benadryl with some caffeine, if both of those things interact well with your system. Benadryl is an antihistamine and caffeine is a vasoconstrictor, so they help with swelling. This might be the only time I recommend someone mixing an upper and a downer.
- Put on a tight hat. I have no science to support this, but it works.
- Sit somewhere dark and quiet (obviously), but if you’re like me and you don’t like silence, some familiar music can help because you know the rhythm well enough not to startle yourself.
- I know some people recommend, like, peppermint oil dabbed at the points where the pain is worst? I’ve never tried this, but hey.
I can also tell you that, if you’ve gotta damage an organ, the reason for having two kidneys is because they get damaged a lot. The hospital is the best possible place for your dad, but on the other hand I know that’s not helpful, because it’s still your dad who’s hurt and that’s so, so hard.
As for the rest of it…God, it’s so terrible when everything is falling apart around you. When things are going to shit because you made a mistake or a bad decision, at least you can pinpoint the why, you know? When it’s just because everything is going wrong all at once, it’s like everything spinning apart around you with no ground left to stand on. You’re gonna live through this, baby, even though I know it might not seem like it, and you can totally feel free to come into my inbox whenever you want to talk, okay?
Anonymous asked: TALK TO ME ABOUT FURIOSA I LOVE HER SO MUCH
So I’ve been planning a fic for a while and I
was gonna just write it here but then I realized that HA this is an ask and you
seem too nice for me to dump a few (like maybe ten) thousand words in
here. So instead here are some
headcanons for the fic I am writing where Max is the immortal unaging fey
avatar of the desert who fetches up at people’s doorsteps and loses himself in
months and lonely years without water or company, and is delighted to find
Furiosa, who is growing into the immortal unaging fey avatar of green places
and oases.
- Max doesn’t stay places, he leaves
places, and Furiosa knows someone who leaves when she sees them. So it shocks the hell out of her when she
gets a Fury Boy (the name wasn’t her idea, it was the Dag and, well, they had
to call them something other than War
Boys) rushing up to her and insisting that there’s a bike coming toward them,
and it’s the road warrior who fought on their side. And she meets Max when he pulls up through
the Wretched—not Wretched anymore, just people, people who look better than
ever with Capable and Cheedo piecing together a cistern for the water—and he
offers her the faint shadow-smile she remembers as he brings his (wrecked) bike
to a halt. He’s loaded down with a small
bag of seeds, an assortment of weapons, and a sheepish expression.
- She takes herself by surprise as much as him,
when she strides forward without a pause and presses their foreheads
together. His eyes are as blue and
burnished as the scorched sky overhead.
- He comes back…not often, but not rarely,
never gone for more than a year or so.
Furiosa flatters herself that he’s glad to see her, when he returns, and
her heart tightens when he begins to initiate the gentle forehead-touch of the
Vuvalini. (The third time he comes back,
they have found another underground current, and they have enough water for a public
bath. She worries that Max might have
drowned himself, after the third hour of him sitting in the water, but he’s
still breathing. He tells her, in his quiet,
stilted way, that it’s the first time he hasn’t been thirsty in he doesn’t know
how long, and she wonders about that.
She wonders how he’d known that, a hundred and sixty days out, there was
nothing but salt.)
- People start to trickle in, drawn by the
siren-call of water and food, because
with the Wives—the Sisters, now—in charge, there is more than enough. And Furiosa begins to hear stories, about how
the Road Warrior saved people or killed tyrants or, more often than not, was
dragged into a fight not his, quite against his will, and did the right thing
anyway. Here’s the thing, though. Some of the stories are recent, just months
or years past. Others…well. She talks to a child, who claims that her
grandfather was a child when he knew Max.
But Max can’t possibly be much older than she is, and she’s…Furiosa
doesn’t really know. She tries to count
back in her head, but… The Dag’s
daughter Angharad is walking well, talking well, maybe seven years old. When did that happen? Shouldn’t Furiosa be greying, shouldn’t there
be lines at her eyes and aches in her joints?
- The next time Max comes to the Citadel, she
asks him how old he is. He tells her, in
his quiet way, less stilted now than when they met because he’s more at ease
with her, that he doesn’t know. But he tells her that
he had a child, once, and they played in grass, and he and his wife had all the
sweet clear water anyone could want.
- Furiosa goes out on a mission. She runs out of water in a sandstorm, and she
waits to die.
- She strides back into the Citadel two weeks
later, and her throat is not even dry.
She drinks, and it’s good, but not necessary. Max is there, and while everyone else marvels
over the fact that she’s alive,
little Radi—Angharad who is not so little, who is thirteen now and as mad and
gifted as her mother—touching her unlined face in wonder, Max watches her and
nods. He doesn’t need to marvel, doesn’t
need to question, because he has stood in her place and felt time trickle by
like water, like sand in a clenched fist.
- Furiosa remembers being a little girl,
screaming for the loss of her mother and her arm and her innocence, and wishing
that, if nothing else, she might live to see victory. She has.
And it seems she will live to see a good deal more. She leaves the Citadel more and more, and she
never grows thirsty, never grows tired.
She has an impossible talent for finding water, for finding places where
seeds will take root, and Max trails after her like a desert wraith. (She’s not sure how long it’s been since they
met, when she kisses him. But his breath
is as hot and dry as the wind under the sun, and she is growth and water and
life to his desert, and he melts under her touch.)
- She leaves for good, when Radi is old enough
to take her place as Fury, the Citadel’s Road Warrior, and she and Max
wander. They will not die. The desert has been fed for too long to be
taken by the green places, but life is tenacious and neither will Max’s desert
swallow Furiosa’s green places whole. It’s
an uneasy truce, between his and hers, but it stands.
Anonymous asked: Ti non opus est tibi scio Latine legere "Secrete Historium" Est cur ego sum doctrina Latine, vel saltem temptabundus ut. Et ego sum usus Google Translate ET Latine dictionarii.
Eeep, corculum, tibi gloria est! Latine amo valde, semperque aliquem Latine discere laetissima sum! “Historiam Secretem” certus legem, album “Libri Lege” addo.
Anonymous asked: Habeo tu pellego "The Secret History"? Est ego novi "cubitum eamus."
Non legi! Bene est? Optime est? “Historiarum Secretum” legere cogiti, sed valde occupata sum. Si mihi commendare vis, non necesse Latine dicis–itane aliquis legere velle possunt?
Anonymous asked: Hello!! Not the previous anon, but also a huge follower of your Les Mis fics! Just want to say thank you for still continuing your fics, but really, take your time okay? School is nuts and life gets in the way, so don't feel pressured and lose your mind trying to get updates on time for us! xx
Oh, babe, you’re so sweet! And trust me, I genuinely love writing this fic, it’s a delight, and no one is more exasperated than me with the necessary delay of school. But also I want to pass all my classes and this is my senior year, it would be a fucking whirlwind regardless. BUT FOR REAL, I’M SO GLAD YOU DON’T HOLD IT AGAINST ME. (Also, WHAT, I have people who actually follow my fics, W H A T, that’s some weird shit, THAT’S GONNA TAKE ME SOME TIME TO ADJUST.)
Anonymous asked: AHHHHH THE NEW CHAPTER WAS FUCKING AMAZING. I was that anon (sorry) and i just have to say... that fight between R and E made the wait #fuckingworthit. It was beautiful and you are beautiful and I love this fic.
OH AND I FORGOT GAV AND R GIVE ME LIFE👌👌 EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS WAS JUST BEAUTIFUL
MY DUDE I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT. And trust me, no one is more exasperated than me with the delays, I would be 100x happier if I could say ‘fuck this noise’ and just write all day every day.
ALSO I’M GLAD THE FIGHT WAS WORTH IT BECAUSE I PROCRASTINATED MY THESIS ALL DAY.
Anonymous asked: Cubitum eamus?
Awww, corculum meum, urbanissimum es. Con me futuere vis? Lectus commodus habeo. Te alligam, si vis.
