#I was so close to fitting everything

[sparkedblaze]

My favorite 92sies things 2: Electric Boogaloo

Part 1

Same T/W: violence, cursing, etc

Sarah stop hiding behind that curtain it's see through and also ur gay

Jack fighting the socks

"I'm just not used to whether I stay or whether I go matter to nobody." He says, with an army of children marching at his heels because he wanted to start a strike

"Got no legal cause" "Legal cause!" *point*

"The a l i a s o f J a a c k K e l l l y"

Pulitzer totally not blackmailing the mayor into doing what he wants

Flapflapflapflapflap

CCKCK Hurst

Spot being a hype man for no reason

"My pAl David"

"Whatarewespostadotothabumskissem"

"They're gonna be playin' with my hands alright"

"Nobodyain'tgonlistentousunlesswemakem!"

"TELLEM JACK!"

"I say that what you say is what I say"

Blink hanging off the balcony like a heathen

"Hello newsies! What's new!" *assorted simp noises*

HIGH TIMES HARD TIMES IDK HOW PEOPLE DON'T LOVE THIS SONG IT'S A FUCKING BANGER

Every single newsie sticking their chest out when they sing 'and I stick out my chest!'

Blink and Racer dancing with Medda

Jack dancing with Medda

Snitch's continuity errors

"That's Snider, as in 'snide'? Smile sir"

*Pulls Jack in by his jacket* IT'S SNYDER

"HE'S JUST A CHILD CAN'T YOU SEE THAT RACET R A C K"

David picking up the swing and then several newsies coming up to protect him bc they think of him as a friend now

"JACK you alright?!"

ALL OF THEM PROTECTING JACK WITH EVERYTHING THEY HAVE BC THEY KNOW THAT IF HE'S ARRESTED THE STRIKE COULD VERY WELL END BC THEY AREN'T SURE PEOPLE WILL CONTINUE WITHOUT HIM

KID BLINK TACKLING A FUCKING COP

ACAB BABYYY

Davey fighting to try and help Jack

"On the grounds of Brooklyn, your Honor."

Everyone dying laughing at that

Racer's 'old man trying to read a fast food menu look'

"We ain't got five bucks We don't even got five cents"

"How bout I roll ya for it? Double or nothin'?"

Dying laughing again

"HEY COWBOY NICE SHINA" ckckckckcckl

David's look when Denton tells Jack that the papers didn't print the story

David's utter disappointment when he finds out the truth about Jack and his family

"Remember Snyder? Remember me and Teddy Roosevelt and the carriage? Remember Roosevelt and the carriage?!"

"So ordered" "NO"

"Whaddya mean it never happened you were there?!"

Denton looking crushed when David finds out he's being transferred

Les stuffing his face, not giving a single fuck about what Denton is talking about. This kid has 0 chill and I love him

David crumbling the story before Denton's even gone

Les: *sees David throw a paper on the table* Les: Perfect I needed something to wrap my mf sandwich in

No one noticing the very visible David riding on the back of the carriage

"Sometimes I read 'em"

"I tell this city how to vote" *thinks to livesies 'And guess what he got elected.'* U sure bout that buddy?

Poke Pokepokepoke

"I must have you scared pretty bad old man."

The guy who gets thrown from the carriage

The very intimate moment they have when Jack presses David against the wall

"You don't know nothin' about jail"

"Guess what I done to his sauerkraut"

Stop the World! No more papes!

That redhead who I always think of as Albert

"Hey-heyhey Race C'mere Tell me I'm just seein' things Just tell me I'm seein' things-"

Every. Single. Reaction. To. Jack. Scabbing.

Blink's anger. Mush's desperation. Race's indignation.

SPOT'S ANGER. HAVING TO LITERALLY BE PULLED AWAY BECAUSE HE PUT HIMSELF AND HIS BOYS ON THE LINE FOR HIM AND HE FUCKING SCABBED.

"YOU'RE A LIAR." and the entire following statement

David Moscow's curls He's such a cutie

"WE DON'T NEED YOU"

DAVID ALMOST GETTING VIOLENT FOR THE FIRST TIME, BUT IT'S ONLY AFTER HE LOOKS AT THE OTHERS. HE'S TRYING TO GET VIOLENT ON THEIR BEHALF. BECAUSE THEY CAN'T DO IT THEMSELVES. IT'S TERRIFYING AND I LOVE IT

"Seize the day huh Jack?!" "He's foolin' em!" the desperation in Les's voice to believe this breaks my heart every time 😭

David: *climbs through window* David: *slams it closed* David: *walks in front of open window*

YOU'RE GAY AND DRAMATIC WE GET IT DAVID

"Are you gonna be requiring anything else this evening? No? Ah... tsk tsk."

"We're gonna go fix your pal Davey Fix him so he can't walk" *Morris disappointed head shakes* "Shut up"

Les swordfighting behind Sarah without a care in the world

Les taking roughly eight years to realize what's happening with Sarah

SARAH PUNCHING MORRIS

David throwing his hat off before trying to beat up the Delanceys

Morris's dumb little laugh😭

"Remember Crutchy?" *bonk*

"I can't be somethin' I ain't" "A scab?" "No, smart"

At least he knows

"I don't write anything I don't mean."

"But our man Denton-" "But I think our man Denton. Has something more important to do. I mean, he's gonna be an ace war correspondent. Right Denton?"

THE SASS

I LOVE DAVID JACOBS

WHOEVER DECIDED TO LEAVE LES ALONE WITH THE CAMERA WITHOUT SUPERVISION

Denton teaching David how to typeset

Once and For All

The entire thing

Can anyone explain to me how the printing press works?

Mush coming to the window twice. My mans is dedicated.

"Awfully nice of Mr. Pulitzer to let us use his press"

Boots throwing the papers from the roof into a square with like four kids

THERE'S MY LIL RAT BOY AGAIN HIIIII

"Hey kid. Can you read?"

The newsies (Skittery, Pie Eater, and someone else) taking their hats off when a lady opens the door

DIS-GRACE-FUL DENTY (read: Roosevelt and Denton have absolutely.... *clears throat* and that's his nickname for him)

"C'mon Jack" "Have hope Jack"

"When the circulation bell starts ringin', will we hear it?" "Nah"

Max Casella

Pap (this time with hat)

"B R O O K L Y N"

We aynt slavs

Not-Albert standing on the statue

Jack carrying Les on his shoulders

Bumlets carrying Boots on theirs

"It's like the end of the world- OhdearIdidn'tsaythat"

"Extrey extrey Joe Read all about it"

"Whatdoesthatmakeyou?"

"The walkin mouth" David: 😒

*Jack opens windows* Pulitzer: lalalalalalalala I can't hear you

DAVID MOSCOW'S EYES

"Well, we only used the best, Joe."

"We beat 'em" "We beat 'em!!"

Gio and Skittery spit-shaking

Skittery: Hiya Weas 😜

The newsies death glaring Denton when he tries to stop them from hiding Jack

"Make friends with the rats Share whatcha got in common" ^^

WHY DOES ROOSEVELT LOOK LIKE AN ANIMATRONIC?!

Race looks like he calls Roosevelt daddy and I can't stop seeing it someone help

Everyone pretending to be okay with Jack leaving, further proving that the newsies are not okay emotionally

The Jacobs crying

Blush leaning against the streetlight together

Them using the same sound byte of the little redhead from the beginning while David is buying his papes

"Attaboy Davey"

Jack's return

"HE'S BACK!"

Jack putting his hat on Les

"How's the headline today?" "Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes"

David's first spit-shake

Our little boy is all grown up

[hoofpeet]

The gender thing ever <3 she has so many complexes

[wyvernity]

sss day my favorite national holiday WOOOOHHHH

bonus

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bingqiu ponies (Happy Birthday @Piosplayhouse!)

[kaisollisto]

“Are you here?" Ava barely breathes it, there's a tension in the air that she can't recognize, an energy that squashes her. Her throat feels scratchy and she can feel the Halo slotted between her shoulders. Ava's flat on her back head turned to look over at Beatrice. She feels wimpy like a stomped flower, her left arm dangles dangerously close to Beatrice-territory. She wants to reach out, to touch Beatrice to confirm that she's here but something stops her. She feels so silly, she could easily shift over to touch Beatrice, shake her gently and - 

Beatrice slides over, a firm sleepy sister warrior knife wielding badass with frumpy hair poofing from what remains of her low bun. She moves towards Ava, inches away from her but moves to answer her. It’s rare for Ava to see her like this. Beatrice is clearly fighting sleep, rubbing her eyes and doing her best to move in hopes that it’ll shake the sleepy spell. 

She’s dressed in one of Ava’s ugly loose white shirts, a huge bass clashing with faded big blocky lettering that just reads “FISH”. Beatrice had looked at her weirdly when Ava had dug it out of the bins at a thrift store disheveled and ecstatic. 

Ava had spent hours coaxing her into it doing her damn best to hide Beatrice’s laundry when she wasn’t looking. It fills a warm feeling in her chest and Ava wants to burrow further into it. It was a fool proof plan. 

Ava found her shortness made it exhausting to reach up towards the Beatrice-level-cabinets. The halo pulls at her pinching and knotting up the muscles in her back after a long day of training. She feels it alive within her, an uncomfortable reminder sealed inside her back. 

At the end of the day Ava settled on hinging at the waist. She had slowly started integrating Beatrice’s sleep shirts in cabinets that Beatrice had to bend down to reach. Ava always tried to situate herself at the scene of the crime doing her best to seem inconspicuous while she leaned over hungry for Beatrice’s reaction. Ava thumbed her findings down in the recess of her mind, her finger tracing over it in a hurried desperation. The time would pass and she did not want to forget. 

(It helped, the imagery of Bea’s furrow when she would find her sleepwear underneath the sink when Ava would have to tuck her spine into the halo as she placed the shirt somewhere clean.) 

Thanks to her genius planning Beatrice had finally caved and worn Ava’s huge “FISH” t-shirt after weeks of her persistence. She looked adorable, she was drowning in it and constantly tugging at it. She had found Beatrice loved to tuck it into the band of her sleep shorts creating puffy funny creases distorting the text even further to say “FSH”. It looked so ugly and old and endearing. 

She looked out of her depth and it made Ava’s heart thump funny. Beatrice with her weird posh mannerisms combined with the peaceful unguarded look when she slumbered made her feel hot all over. 

It was the prospect of the future, a glimpse into her life with Beatrice, of when they would grow old together. It shakes her, the idea that Beatrice will get wrinkles with her. She takes it seriously, a study that she isn’t well versed in but preparing for. It is a long hard internal debate flipping between what wrinkles will show first. Ava selfishly hopes it’s smile lines, that Beatrice will smile at her as much as she does in secret. She’s happy to be wrong, Beatrice’s forehead crinkles have always been cute. She hopes that Beatrice never stops looking at her, thinking of her. She wants to spend a long time being the source of her wrinkles. And just for right now she can handle the role of being just her friend. 

Beatrice blinks one eye open, the other pressed against the pillow as she stifles a yawn. Her hand blocks her mouth in a delicate way and Ava can see her nails are short and uneven in places. Ava wishes she could touch them, study them in a way no one has done before. She wants to press against Beatrice hard enough to watch her skin fold around hers. Some sort of truth that she was here, that she is here. 

Beatrice scoots over slowly, her elbow tucked under the pillow. She stops inches away from Ava, a frown set in her jaw. Ava mirrors her position albeit more awkwardly and more wiggling than Beatrice’s but she finds a place where the Halo won’t bite her back. 

“I’m here,” Beatrice murmurs it, a quiet thing between them. 

Ava closes her eyes hoping Beatrice won’t notice her shakiness. She blinks a few times before she presses closer, the arm she’s laying on moving to support her head underneath the pillow. 

There’s so much to tell her, anything and nothing at all and Ava doesn’t know where to start. It constricts her throat, the constant stream of consciousness from inside of her heart. It’s horrible and she can’t stop it as the feeling balloons inside of her lungs. Ava wants help, she so desperately wants to feel okay again, to feel anything other than the stupid fucking halo. It grates on her nerves and muscles, a burning hot metal ring poking and prodding at the entirety of her upper torso. It leaves her reeling, a sort of anger that beckons for her to hurt (hurt something, hurt someone, hurt), disregarding the aftermath of tears and shame. 

Ava is sure she’s shaking, a layer of sweat gathers between the space of her shoulder blades as the Halo lights up with her inner turmoil. It’s a faint pitiful thing that Ava would be ashamed of if not for the bone aching tiredness. 

She wants to say she’s sorry the words clawing their way up her throat and it feels wrong to feel anything but that. There’s a sort of unspoken shame that haunts her with the Halo. It’s a thing she’s known long before any of this. 

Beatrice drags her out of her turmoil with her hand hovering near Ava’s pinky. She has a gracefulness to it, like she has practiced it a hundred times over. It’s weird, to be in a bed, a soft and lumpy bed looking at Beatrice. Beatrice with such plain features and subtle cheekbones that Ava can’t stop looking. It pays off, watching Beatrice, Ava knows it when Bea smiles a grin too wide for polite acknowledgement and Ava can see her dimples pronounced. 

“Can I?” Beatrice’s finger lingers near her hand, a hovering itch that Ava needs scratched. It’s so wholeheartedly Beatrice that Ava can do nothing but nod. Something inside of Ava aches harder than the rest of the organs inside of her. It’s the unwavering crushing thumping feeling that squeezes around her heart. The sincerity of Beatrice. 

She places her hand over Ava’s and squeezes her gently. Beatrice’s hands are firm and soft. She can feel the callouses on her palms prodding at the back of her hand and wonders if Beatrice has ever had them fade away. If she’s had the pleasure of unscathed palms. Her hands are warm but not sweaty, not like Ava’s.

Ava can’t feel Beatrice’s pulse but she tries her best to match it. She imagines it would be a slow melody playing a duet with a classical track. Some sort of tune that spurs comfort or a feeling of nostalgia. She briefly wonders if Beatrice listens to music, if she seeks out music that has spoken to her. If there was a song that shook her to her core so deeply she had to sit down and digest it. There’s so much she still needs to know and so little time. 

“I admit I’m not sure what you need from me.” Beatrice whispers it quietly, she’s hunched awkwardly, hovering close in Ava’s space but too far away for her own comfort. 

Ava clamps her mouth shut, sure that “come closer” will betray her. That she will reach too far into Beatrice and take far too much. 

Beatrice pays no mind to Ava’s silence and slowly caresses her hand, it’s a small little gesture that seems to have no set course. Ava briefly wonders if it’s the start of a massage or if Beatrice is looking for her joints underneath her skin and touching her tendons in apology. 

It should be awkward, Beatrice and Ava orbiting each other in a lopsided manner. A rotational tilt that is unfamiliar to both of them and yet feels intimate. An unknown dance with their eyes closed and their breaths mingling. (It’s easy to follow Beatrice’s lead, Ava knows love.) 

There’s nothing Ava can say to her, she chokes up at the prospect and they both blink at each other. She’s not sure what she needs, only that it’s nice having someone here. 

Beatrice drowsily blinks rapidly and slowly at the same time as Ava watches swallowing the bits of her smile. Her hand has slowed its pathing, opting to curl on the inside of Ava’s fingers. It’s endearing watching one of her favorite bad ass sister warriors lose against sleep. It softens the edges of Beatrice who is always carrying some unseen obligation. (Here it is only the two of them free of their past and future burdens, just two girls sprawled thinly on hopes and dreams). 

She can feel Beatrice’s grip loosen, she’s going to fall back asleep any minute now but Ava doesn’t have the heart to keep her up. Beatrice is no doubt tired, powered by her own sleeping and eating habits unlike Ava who has the artifact to juice her up. 

She isn’t quite unwound but she feels manageable now. It’s weird to be within reach of Beatrice, someone who cares about her. To be in proximity of someone who will look for her, be in step with her, maybe it’s duty but Ava holds it close to her heart regardless. (It’s all the same to her, devotion, loyalty, love). 

She clings to Beatrice afraid to let the moment go, she had called and someone had answered, Bea had answered. Ava can feel her eyes watering, it almost feels like a distant dream. She tucks her chin closer to chest and thinks, how awful to be loved. 

She can feel her throat closing up and she squeezes Bea’s hand just a tiny bit harder. (She answers in the twitch of her hand, clearly on the cusp of sleep). The Halo still thunders in her back throbbing some fatal fate but here in the hush of night grounded by the touch of Beatrice she has some reprieve.  (Part 1)

[accioepiphany]

Mary Oliver, Oxygen // The Bear 1x03 'Brigade' // The Bear 2x02 'Pasta'

[myketheartista]

43??

Hello Mel!! I was so, so excited to see you got 43 ^w^ this is one of my favorite songs and it makes me think about Matilda’s family back at home while she’s gone on her journey. There’s a lot of negative emotions that fester during the time she’s away, and the two eldest siblings are left feeling distant from one another as they struggle to find their own paths while taking care of their other four siblings. As scary as it is without Matilda around, Mallory knows she can’t leave Maeson to fend for the family or they’d inevitably fall apart. Thank you for the ask!!

#43: The Chapel - Madilyn Mei

[catboydiiluc]

pyro archon redesign concept sketch

[tethys-the-aquatic-sea-godness]

The worst thing is, Viconia would've fit perfectly in Shadowheart's storyline. From Viconia's (non-romanced) epilogue, we know this:

Viconia does found a cult of Shar in Waterdeep and she is betrayed by one of her followers. She is, not Shar. Shar, in fact, admonishes Viconia for this, showing she clearly never ordered that. And Viconia does not give a damn. This is the woman who left the cult of Lolth and went to the 'lighter' option that was Shar (compared to Lolth). She already deals with agents sent by Lolth, she's not going to let Shar tell her what to do.

The nature of the betrayal Viconia was the subject of is left entirely up to the player. With Viconia and Shadowheart's backstory being what they are, Shar's plot for a Selûnite child could've been perfectly inserted as the reason for Viconia's falling out with Shar.

Viconia left Lolth because of how children were treated, how she was treated herself. She did not turn to Shar to do the same thing. She would reject Shar's plot the moment the order came, and that would be the perfect trigger for one of her follower to turn of her. Shar's cult being what it is, I don't think taking down the whole lot is overkill to avoid further backstabbing. There aren't many who will pick their priestress over their goddess, especially not with how Sharran's faith emphasizes self-effacing. Can't make a decision for yourself when you don't think for yourself.

Shar's reprimends following what Viconia did further proves this wasn't what the goddess wanted. Complete that by adding she's incensed Viconia rejected her order and slaughtered her willing clerics, and you've got the perfect connection between Viconia and Shadowheart.

In BG 3, we could've met Viconia in Baldur's Gate, rather annoyed because she's been getting an influx of Sharran agents after her, and she's tracking the source to put an end to it. A Shar-aligned Shadowheart could've the mission to purge the cloister that failed to kill her, while a Selûne-aligned Shadowheart would work with her to put and end to the cloister, to give them both some peace and quiet.

Epilogue could've them both sharing tips on 'How to best kill an agent of faith sent after you'. They both have sharp tongues and a similar past, they could've had fantastic banter.

Instead we have this mess.

[askthekirbysquad]

hey wait a sec

[necrotic-nephilim]

Hear me out, kiss with a fist

https://youtu.be/ywMD3GLoKG4?si=nAot0594-vKVX3Ww

Make it slightly dead dove brudick

!!!! Florence + The Machine supremacy.

this song is SO them. Bruce and Dick do not know how to love each other without fighting. their violence and anger is intertwined with their kindness. i think it's fun they love each other so much, it's such a deep burning intensity that they can't figure out how to control and it leads to anger. like how do you handle loving someone so much that you want to protect every aspect of them to keep them safe and hidden from the world? because they should be *yours*. how do you handle loving someone so much that you have to get away from them because it's suffocating you that you don't know who you even *are* outside of your love for them? their lives revolved around each others for years and then fractured and all that love just bleeds out into violence.

i truly have a soft spot for Bruce and Dick fighting each other and being willing to turn to violence to try to turn to the other. and it's on both sides, they're both throwing punches and trying to hurt the other. sometimes, they don't even have a reason. they just want to hurt the other to feel the pain under their knuckles. Dick punches Bruce in the face just to finally see Bruce *show* his own pain and crumple, just a little bit. he wants to rip apart Bruce's bedroom because it's full of pieces of him that Bruce shouldn't be allowed to keep.

love the line "your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same, love sticks" bc it's so them. the bruises they leave on each other -both emotional and physical- are never lasting. their bodies were made for this. and they don't *change*. it's just fundamental to Bruce and Dick's dynamic that they're just a *little* fucked up and unable to love each other kindly. they always crawl back bc a kiss with a fist *is* better than none. Bruce would let Dick hit him a thousand times just to feel Dick touching him and showing him attention. if fighting is what it takes to have Dick talking to him, Bruce will eagerly take it and he'll fight right back. i'm feral for this ty <3

[thagoldennugget]

New OC for the RodgerSteward-verse!! Marceau (Mark)

[aria0fgold]

Seared like a songbird flying to the sun

A belated birthday gift for @misty-wisp ! Tried to combine references for both Swan Lake and Cendrillon >:3 (Linked the English cover I took the lyrics from for the title!)

[sysig]

Destined to lose an eye in every timeline (Patreon)

Bonus alt:

[irrealisms]

having disabilities that are very sharply stress-triggered is....weird. i am hella privileged and so i can live my life basically entirely supported by others (cf #housecat arc) and when im doing this i can basically pass as normal and not have any serious mental breakdowns* . i hang out with friends and i watch videos and i read books both fiction and nonfiction and i play minecraft and i write stories and i go to church on sundays and it's a boring life and i don't always feel like i'm living it very much but i'm not really in crisis. i feel like, basically normal. like i am basically a regular person. i am no longer freaking out about being watched by a mysterious Them who are tormenting me; i can basically live my life as though it is real; my hallucinations are uncommon and not particularly distressing when they happen; i am not suicidal; outside of occasional episodes of speech loss, i am coherent--articulate, even!--in my speech and writing; it's been many years since my last violent meltdown; i eat three meals a day; i am able to get out of bed every day. and then i try to do productive things for like 3 hours and i start banging my head against the wall and crying because i Can't i just Can't. it's incredibly stark. it's a pretty good justification for being a housecat honestly because if i weren't then i would not only be "losing money to groceries rent etc" i would also be "losing money much more quickly to intensive treatments and/or bad decisions" and i think "losing money more quickly" is the opposite of the goal of "trying to have a job" but definitely uh if i were less privileged wrt Ability to housecat indefinitely i would be Fucked. i deteriorate Terrifyingly Fast under Literally Any Stress.

this isn't a new observation or anything--chat message from august of last year--

It’s kind of eternally astounding to me how much my issues are ~stress-mediated? I can basically be fine and normal-passing if I’m not expected to do anything ever; the amount of breakdown i have correlates pretty directly w how much is expected of me. This feels incredibly fake when I’ve been doing nothing for long enough and think i have gotten better but then i am expected to have pretty basic conversations with people irl for like two weekends in a row and i spend 20 minutes pacing my room and hyperventilating and self harming and i would not be surprised if i end up having a [I stop moving] episode before the weekend is up. and this is not very bad or anything on the scale of things but notably also i am not being expected to do very much!!! Idk it’s weird how like. When I am being a house cat I can be— not maximally fulfilled or anything but basically okay and normal. And then I do things for more than one day and it’s like Oh this is why I housecat. not even in a bad way fully just. huh yeah

and it doesn't even surprise me or feel fake to me at this point but it's weird and i don't like it. i don't like how fast i can go from "i am basically doing fine" to near-crisis when i am expected to do very basic everyday life things. it scares me. i'm getting better but it's hard to tell how much of that is just....redefining my goals and expectations, rather than actually having more abilities. even writing my "i'm basically a normal person when not expected to do things" i kept running up against. like. oh yeah. i don't actually shower/clean myself with any sort of regularly. i don't cook for myself. i spend long stretches of time only changing clothes or leaving the house for church on sundays. i could probably make life changes to do better at some of these things but it's all tradeoffs and idk if it'd be. worth it. i keep coming back to this post bc it really is how i feel. i run into my limits drastically less often than i used to and i am doing much much better. this is mostly because i am living my life so very very carefully within those limits. i am like a delicate orchid who does okay in Ideal Conditions but threatens to die at the slightest hint of overwatering. and i am very lucky to be carefully managed by people who love me immensely and have a lot of resources and many people do not have this and i really do not want to understate this!!! but being a very lucky orchid is still ... very different than being a mint plant

*ok in 2024 i did have a few months where i was actively suicidal and regularly self-harming and not really eating much and having nightmares all the time. um. i don't have a defense here that isn't "you should've seen me before i dropped out" or maybe "okay but it wasn't that long". i didn't have to go to IOP and....i would say "i didn't drop out/get fired from anything major" but that's because i already didn't have any responsibilities cf the rest of the post........ummmmmmmmmmmmmm anyway. i didn't do anything drastic (not exclusively a suicide euphemism) despite considering it. does that count for anything

[mc-critical]

1.10 / 1.09