#LITERALLY ALMOST WORD FOR WORD

[valtsv]

[tjjamess]

To YOU he’s just a 192 year old dead revolutionary medical student who represented the logic of the revolution who lived much more normal than his counterpart, who was more human than man, the homo to vir, who liked the word citizen but preferred the word man and would gladly say hombre, who read everything, did theatres, followed lectures, explained the functions of artery’s, followed science, deciphered hieroglyphics, broke stones to look inside them, drew silk moths from memory, corrected the dictionary, both asserted and denied nothing, daydreamed, who was involved in issues of education, wanted society to raise intellectual and moral standards, believed that the narrowness of teachings and the scholastic prejudice would turn collages into artificial oyster farms, who was well-read, a purist, precise, polytechnical, hardworking, imaginative, who dreamed of trains and better surgical operations and fixing cameras and electric telegraphs and steering hot air balloons, who was the guide to the leader, who was not incapable of fighting but would rather be gentle, who wanted neither halt nor haste, who would rather let progress take its course rather than worship and incite revolutionary adventures, coolheaded but pure, methodical but irreproachable, phlegmatic but imperturbable, and who believed ‘good must be innocent’

To ME he’s everything

[cto10121]

Book Fiyero: *immediately recognizes Elphaba and stations himself at the backdoor to prevent her from evading him, stalks her halfway across town to her aerie (even though at that point in time she was only a college friend he hadn’t seen in five years), insists on seeing her again, instinctively goes to comfort her when she first cries, gets sucked into increasingly deep and fraught conversations with her about collateral damage and freedom fighter terrorism, calls her the “most individual, the most separate, the most real” DURING AN ARGUMENT, says he adores Elphaba’s looks IN THAT SAME ARGUMENT, doesn’t understand Elphaba’s “being born with a talent or an inclination for goodness is the aberration” comment because (implied) he sincerely believes Elphaba isn’t evil, changes his mind about the plight of the Animals all by himself but doesn’t mention it to Elphaba because he is afraid she would distance himself from him, buys scarves for both his wife and Elphaba even though only Elphaba likes scarves, is so concerned for Elphaba and her dangerous Lurlinemas Eve mission that he stalks her instead of staying at his club or just leaving town altogether, and is so worried about her that he returns to the aerie just to see her*

Also Book Fiyero: Am I in love with Elphaba?

[peacockrulz]

N tries to tell another joke (gone wrong)

Sequel to This

[mysticruinedme]

ANYWAY.

LOOK AT THEMMMMM…………….. LOOK AT HOW HE IS LOOKING AT SONIC……. knuckles’ eyes did not leave sonic that entire time TwT aaaggghhhhhhhhhh

[fratboykate]

Yelena doesn’t pack.

She sits there, fists clenched on her thighs, jaw tight, every muscle in her body screaming at her to follow Kate and fix this before it spirals further out of control.

But she’s tired. God, she’s so fucking tired.

For once, she wants to be the one walked toward instead of always being the one doing the chasing.

But the minutes stretch. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. The silence outside Kate’s office is oppressive, settling into Yelena’s bones like lead. No footsteps. No hesitation. No coming back.

And she knows...Kate’s not easing up.

That realization sends something sharp and dangerous slicing through her chest. Fine. If Kate wants to be stubborn, then Yelena can match her.

She heads to the door, grabs her keys out of the bowl, and heads out. She doesn’t rush. If Kate is listening, she wants her to hear every deliberate footstep, the soft click of the lock as she pulls the door closed behind her.

Let her know that Yelena isn’t bluffing.

She makes it as far as the car. Keys in hand, fingers curled around the driver’s side door handle. And then she just…stops.

Her pulse is a dull, steady thud in her ears. The weight of the night...the fight, the accusations, the sheer exhaustion of being caught in this cycle...presses in on her.

She should go. She said she was going. And Yelena isn’t the type to walk back on something once she’s put it out into the universe. She’s stubborn like that. Always has been.

But she's still here.

Kate is right here.

And maybe maybe this is the moment. The test.

If Yelena gets in the car and drives off, does Kate let her? Does she come outside, bang on the window, demand she come back inside? Does she call in ten minutes, or an hour, or tomorrow morning when she wakes up and realizes Yelena actually left?

Or does she do nothing?

That last thought sinks claws into Yelena’s chest. It sits there, heavy and festering, refusing to let her go.

She releases the car handle and pivots on her heel, marching back toward the garage elevator before she can talk herself out of it.

Inside, the lights in the hallway are dim. The office door is still wide open, her chair pushed back from the desk exactly how she left it. The fight sits in the air, thick and suffocating, but the house is quiet.

Uncomfortably so.

Yelena makes her way down the hall. There’s a sliver of light coming from the guest room at the end of it.

She hesitates, foot hovering over the carpet leading there, then she moves past it entirely. Instead, she veers toward the kids’ rooms. She’s not sure what she’s looking for. Some reassurance, maybe, something to anchor her in the mess of tonight.

She stops outside Alexia's door first, pressing her palm against the wood for a second before carefully pushing it open just enough to peek inside.

The room is dark, save for the faint glow of the nightlight in the corner. Alexia is curled on their side, one arm flung over the stuffed owl Kate bought her last Christmas. Yelena watches her chest rise and fall, slow and even.

She should’ve been here earlier. Should’ve said goodnight, should’ve been the one to tuck the kids in instead of leaving it to Kate again.

She shuts the door as quietly as possible and crosses the hall to the little one's room.

Maks is sprawled across the mattress in the most chaotic sleeping position imaginable, tangled in the sheets, one sock barely clinging to his foot. In the crib, Sonny is neatly tucked in, her tiny hand curled under his cheek.

Yelena lingers in the doorway for a long time.

She loves them. Of course, she does. That was never up for debate. But it still stings, the way Kate threw it at her earlier, like Yelena being a good mother was somehow optional.

Like Kate thinks she’s failing.

Like she thinks she’s failing.

She swallows hard, backing out of the room.

When she reaches the guest bedroom, the door is cracked open. A lamp is still on inside, and Yelena can just make out the shape of Kate sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked up, fingers pressed to her forehead.

She doesn’t knock, just pushes the door open wider and steps inside.

Kate doesn’t look up. Doesn’t say anything.

Yelena exhales slowly, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t leave.”

Kate snorts, the sound dry, unimpressed.

“Want a medal?”

Yelena clenches her jaw.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

That makes Kate lift her head. Her eyes are red, tired, but sharp.

“Do what?”

“This. Fighting. This stupid back and forth. I don’t want to keep hurting you.”

Kate watches her carefully, searching for something. Then, with a quiet scoff, she shakes her head.

“That’s nice. Really. But you don’t get to say ‘I don’t want to fight’ like that fixes everything. You did hurt me. You keep doing it.”

“I know.” It’s the only honest thing Yelena can say. She shifts on her feet. “But you’re hurting me too.”

That seems to land. Kate’s jaw tightens, and she looks away.

Yelena takes a careful step forward.

“We can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to lose you.”

Kate laughs, but it’s hollow.

“You sure about that? Because every time shit gets hard, you disappear.”

Yelena shakes her head. “I don’t...”

“Yes, you do.” Kate cuts in sharply. “Physically. Emotionally. Take your pick.” She lifts her hands, then lets them fall limply onto her lap. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re fucking drowning? I do. Every single day. But I don’t get to check out. I don’t get to decide it’s too much and just…step back.”

“I don’t decide to do it.” Yelena’s voice is quiet now. “It’s not…it’s not something I want.”

“But it’s what happens,” Kate mutters, shaking her head.

Silence stretches between them.

Then, Kate exhales and leans forward, pressing her face into her hands for a moment before lifting her gaze again. Her voice is softer when she speaks next.

“What are we to you?”

"What?”

“Its a simple question,” Kate says, watching her. “If this...” she gestures vaguely between them “...is something you’re only holding onto because it’s familiar, or because leaving would be too hard, then we need to stop pretending.”

Yelena doesn’t answer right away. Because wanting something and knowing how to make it work are two different things. She exhales, crossing the room until she’s close enough to kneel in front of Kate, resting her hands lightly against her knees. Kate doesn’t pull away.

“You and them are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you,” Yelena says, voice steady. “And I don’t want to stop trying.”

Kate studies her for a long, tense moment. Then, finally, she sighs.

“We have to try differently then,” she says. “Because whatever this is? It’s not working.”

"We'll figure it out. All we have to do is choose not to give up."

///

The next morning is quiet. Too quiet.

Yelena wakes to the sound of muffled voices. The house is awake without her. The kids are up. Kate is up. And Yelena is still in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like she’s an outsider in her own home.

She drags herself up, pulling on a sweatshirt over her sleep shirt as she pads barefoot toward the door. Their bedroom feels wrong when Kate doesn't sleep in it. Foreign. Without Kate in here, Yelena feels she’s intruding. The space between her and Kate has never felt this wide.

Hearing them out there...it feels like they're already moving on without her.

Yelena makes her way to the kitchen. Kate must have said something hilarious because she hears Alexia and Maks cackle. She turns and corner and, the second she steps inside, she knows she’s walked in on something.

Kate, who stands by the sink, tenses the moment her and Yelena make eye contact. A few feet away, Alexia sits at the table with Maks and Sonny. Sonny is in just her diaper, swinging her legs under her chair, oblivious to the tension that just thickened the air. Maks is staring down at his half-eaten cereal like it might give him an answer to whatever the hell just happened here. Alexia, however, is bristling.

“You should have woken me up,” Yelena says, voice rough with sleep.

Kate doesn't say anything.

Alexia glances up, eyes flicking between them, and suddenly, Yelena realizes what this looks like. Kate slept in the guest room. She wasn’t here when they woke up. She walked in late.

Like a stranger.

“Mama, are you living with Deda and Babu now?” Maks asks, tilting his head.

Yelena’s stomach twists. “What? No. Why would you...”

Yelena glares at Kate. Before she knows it's happening, she's crossing the kitchen and walking straight to Kate.

“What did you tell them?” Yelena asks barely above a whisper.

"The truth." Kate turns, leveling her with a stare. “What was I supposed to do? Pretend like nothing is happening? They’re not stupid.”

“They’re also kids.”

Kate scoffs, dropping a spoon into the sink with a clatter.

“Right. And what do you think is worse? Talking to them about it or letting them figure it out on their own while we keep playing house?”

“This isn’t something they should have to deal...”

“They already deal with it,” Kate snaps. “Every single time you put your work first. Every time you miss a recital or a game or a school meeting. Every time I have to make excuses for you...they already know. So maybe, just maybe, don’t act so fucking surprised.”

Alexia chair scrapes backwards and she storms off.

"Alex..." Yelena pleads after her daughter.

But she's already gone, storming down the hallway and up the stairs. Maks looks like he wants to follow, but he stays put, chewing his lip. Sonny, blissfully unaware, bangs her little hands on the high chair and gurgles.

Kate sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is exactly why I told you to fix your priorities.”

Yelena sets her jaw. “You told me? This isn’t just on me, Kate.”

“Really? Because I’m not the one who’s always gone.”

The words slam into her, harder than she’s willing to admit.

Before she can respond, Maks slides off his chair and follows after his big sister, leaving only Sonny at the table.

Kate watches them go, then turns back to the sink, gripping the edge of the counter like she’s holding herself together.

“I don’t want to fight in front of them,” Yelena mutters.

“Then don’t start shit at breakfast.”

Yelena's eyes flash. “Start shit? You told them I was going to stay with my parents.”

“That's what YOU said,” Kate hisses, stepping closer.

“I came back.”

“And you want me to give you points for that?”

“No. I want you to stop acting like I’m the only one responsible for all of this falling apart.”

Kate laughs, but it’s sharp, humorless.

“You’re really going to stand here and act like you’re not?”

“This isn’t fair...”

“What’s not fair is that I have to be the reliable one while you get to be at work. You get to show up when it’s convenient for you. You get to skip the hard parts. You get to waltz in late because you’re Yelena Belova, the brilliant scientist who’s too important and too busy to actually show up.”

“That’s not...” Yelena pauses. "Why did you call me that?"

"Call you what?"

"Yelena Belova."

"That's your name."

"It hasn't been for A LONG time."

“Don’t change the subject,” Kate warns, voice dangerously quiet. “Don’t stand there and pretend like you don’t see it. You have no idea what it’s like to be the one who has to hold it all together.”

Yelena’s chest heaves. “And what do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

“Trying isn’t enough anymore.”

There it is. The final nail in the coffin.

Yelena shakes her head, throat burning. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

Kate doesn’t answer right away. Her gaze flickers, like she wants to take it back. But she doesn’t.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Kate says finally. “Not when nothing ever changes.”

A thick silence swallows the kitchen whole.

Yelena swallows around the knot in her throat. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

Kate exhales slowly, but there’s no satisfaction in it. No relief. Just exhaustion.

“I think I have to be.”

Yelena takes a step back, like she’s been hit. She doesn’t realize she’s shaking her head until Kate sighs and looks away.

“Yelena...”

“No,” Yelena breathes. “No, this isn’t...we aren’t...”She can’t finish it.

Because Kate isn’t stopping her. Kate isn’t walking it back. Kate isn’t saying 'I don’t mean it' or 'I just need space' or 'We’ll figure it out'.

She’s just standing there, watching Yelena unravel.

“When are you moving out?”

And that...That’s the moment it all falls apart.

[nextstopparis]

kilgharrah looking at arthur in 2.13 like he wants to inspect him under a microscope isnsndbsjs

[booasaur]

Special Ops: Lioness - 1x08

[grimalditeuthis]

bit that is stuck in my head and vocabulary for ever and ever. the chainsaw killer

(source)

[clowningcrows]

ngl yall im writing the most insane, filfthy agathario smut with needy but bratty bottom!agatha and gentle but dominating top!rio

[shehatescoffee]

here's a humble drabble request: I love dadjo and suffering, so what about a little something from gojo's pov, let's say, two days prior his fight with sukuna? (yes I will never get over megumi's 16th birthday (ಥ﹏ಥ) )

It's his birthday today.

Satoru hasn't forgotten. Can't forget, maybe.

It's been nearly a month since he and Sukuna agreed to fight, and when he'd suggested the date, just two days away now, he hadn't thought about it. He'd been too overwhelmed, too shocked, at seeing Megumi standing there next to the stitched up corpse of Suguru, hair combed back and dark curse marks marring his skin, to even think to consider it. It was like looking into a funhouse mirror determined to show him his greatest failures, those of the past and those yet to come, so unsettling that for a moment he hadn't believed it to be real—refused to accept that it could be.

So, he hadn't hesitated at spitting out the date, one that follows him like a wretched curse but seemed oddly fitting at the time, and now he's sitting here alone on Megumi's sixteenth birthday, blowing out his candles for him.

Megumi's never been one to make a big deal about his birthday, but Tsumiki loves—loved birthdays, or any reason to celebrate and eat too many sweets, and so Megumi had suffered through them for her sake. When Satoru took them in (took them in is being generous, he thinks; he was barely eighteen, fresh off losing Suguru and entirely incapable of taking proper care of himself, not to mention a pair of abandoned children, one with the weight of a thousand year old familial curse on his shoulders and the other so dedicated to filling the void of their parents that she'd worked herself to the bone to keep them afloat), he'd made it a point to spend their birthdays with them. His parents had never really bothered to make anything important out of his own birthday, other than forcing him to partake in the traditional clan rituals and accept lavish, pointless gifts he never asked for.

He hadn't wanted that for them. For Megumi, in particular. Tsumiki was a lovely child, easy to please, but Megumi was never so simple. His first birthday under Satoru's care was a mess, to say the least (he never made the mistake of inviting all of Megumi's classmates again).

If it was up to Megumi, the day would be like any other. Maybe he'd have some cake, just to appease Tsumiki, but that was hard for Satoru to accept. Coming from a childhood where birthdays were seen as nothing more than a guilded checkmark before he would assume his role as clan head, he simply couldn't understand why any kid wouldn't want what extravagence and attention he was offering them. Cake should be expected, the most basic aspect of a birthday. Why wouldn't Megumi want more? Why wouldn't he trust Satoru enough to ask for it?

Thinking back, that was a common theme for him and Megumi. Misunderstandings, he means. Perhaps he was simply too stuck in his ways to really see Megumi's point of view, or perhaps Megumi was willfully stubborn about it because he enjoyed seeing Satoru get flustered when his attempts at bonding were rebuked. Perhaps, Megumi, with his dark hair and tendency to put Satoru in his place without remorse, just reminded him too much of someone he hadn't given enough attention to, and he's been desperate to avoid following the same path ever since.

He likes to think he did the best he could, but look where all his efforts got them.

The image of Megumi—no, Sukuna, wearing Megumi's skin, grinning with a malice he's never seen on the face that still has hints of baby fat on it, the cheeks he used to pinch and prod when Megumi would get in a mood, the teeth he saw grow in after tying floss to a doorknob to remove the old ones, it will surely haunt him through death.

So, he sits here, alone, slicing up a cake that's not nearly sweet enough for him because he'd ordered it months ahead of time, as usual, with Megumi's tastes in mind.

It's likely that Yuuji would come, if he asked, but Satoru doesn't even know if he's aware of the significance of the date (when do new friends think to mention birthdays?), and if he isn't then Satoru refuses to be the one to tell him. It's not a burden to celebrate Megumi's birthday, it never has been and never will be, but nonetheless it's a responsibility he has to bear alone.

He can't help but chuckle a little bit at his own melodrama. He's even got the lights turned off, for Tengen's sake.

Maybe he'd gone soft at some point, but can anyone blame him? Megumi is just so strong. So strong. He unlocked the capability of opening his domain years before Satoru had, and, with time, Satoru was sure that, no matter what happened to him, Megumi would be able to move forward. He'd be able to do what Satoru never could, surrounded by powerful friends and allies. Hell, eventually Megumi would probably have saved Yuuji from his death sentence out of pure spite, trying to prove he could succeed where Satoru failed.

But, now he can't do any of that, at least not for a while longer yet. And it's Satoru's fault. His fault that Megumi, barely even his own person yet, is spending his sixteenth birthday as the King of Curse's meatsuit.

Chewing on another bite of too-bitter cake, he sighs.

He'll make sure to make Megumi's seventeenth birthday the best one yet.

[rbtlvr]

i feel really normal about this series of portraits from when loop accepts the flower for the first time by the way. if you were wondering

[surelysilly]

just wanna write more for lost in the universe but instead i must make a sock puppet storyboard...

here take this

"Back up," Nightingale says, voice low and hard. Bruce doesn't move. In the dim light of the alley, the other man’s irises almost seem to glow, chips of blistering ice — not a hint of green to be seen. "Daniel Nightingale," Bruce growls, and the squared line of Nightingale’s shoulders tightens further. Then, in League dialect, he continues, “What business do you have here?” Nightingale’s eyes flicker, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Did he understand that? Why would Ra’s send someone to Gotham? Is… The Pits don’t work on the deceased — what does Nightingale know? "Back up," Nightingale repeats, the threat of violence skyrocketing while the temperature of the air around them immediately plummets. "Back the fuck up." What little skin that is bare to the world burns with cold, and Bruce exhales a visible breath. A mean and curling snarl edges in on Nightingale's face, the animosity clear.

[tboynightmare]

rewatching yellowjackets in preparation of s3 and noticing so much symbolism in jackie. like in the beginning we see her talking to coach martinez and we literally get told how she isnt the fastest or the most technically skilled of the girls on the team but she is still the leader because she has the ability to hold them together and the charisma to make them listen to her. we see this when shauna fights with tai and everyone starts in on each other after what happens to allie. when jackie is the one to tell them that enoughs enough and that they need to overcome their differences for the sake of the team. we even see her try to take on this role again when they crash, even though she probably shouldnt have, and she tells shauna to leave van in the plane. luckily, but sort of unluckily for jackie, van is able to escape on her own. though it is good that van didn't die, i believe this was the first straw that starts jackies transition from the fearless, confident leader of the group to the outcast.

after van saves herself (which im not mad about btw. i LOVE van) and there is that resentment against jackie in her, it makes it a lot easier for everyone to turn on her. on top of it all, although she is a good leader, jackie isnt able to assume that role because she cant find a purpose. not being able to provide or help the group in any lasting way is just another reason for them to feel like she isnt needed, like they could easily survive without her. we see this building when shauna goes to try to teach her to be a butcher and, as theyre walking away, mari and akilah (?) give her a look. also when shauna outright tells her she cant just go on doing nothing. at least on the soccer team she was doing something, but here, with no tasks shes willing or able to complete, she has no leg to stand on. theres really no reason for anyone to listen to her.

it only gets worse from then on, the tension peaking after doomcoming. regardless of how high and drunk they were, they scared the shit out of jackie and never apologize to her for it. everyone just kind of expects her to get over it. besides, she had tried to "steal" travis in their eyes, despite nat and travis not even being together anymore. not to mention her accidentally and unknowingly causing the break up in the first place. her anger with the girls for not easily forgetting the night before i think is honestly the last straw for all of them. that is why they dont really care when jackie tells them that shaunas baby is jeffs. thats why lottie tells ben not to step in when the fight escalates. thats why they ultimately leave her in the dust. she loses her reliability and trustworthiness in their eyes through her inability to assimilate to life in the wilderness as a whole, meaning she loses her status completely as the head of the team.

despite all this, she is able to hold them together like she did at home in the end. her final act of generosity and love for her team is giving her body, the meat she provides when she is steamed by the pyre and snow. even though for almost all of her stay with them in the wilderness, she hardly did anything to help, in the end, she carries them through one more night, her warmth filling their aching bellies and satisfying their hunger.

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

I keep thinking about how Maki says she joined the assassin cult to protect her childhood friend from being the one to go through it instead, but like... what if they were just manipulating her? Pretending to target the friend and hoping Maki would take the bait, with her being their real target all along? Because if the friend really was as kindhearted and emotional as Maki describes, those aren't good traits for an assassin, regardless of how strong you are, and surely the scouts would know that. They're experts, they'd be able to tell when someone doesn't have the emotional aptitude for a life of killing, never mind if they're athletic.

Also, Maki says that during the training they tried to break her, but her memories of her friend kept her going. What if that was the point? The assassin training was torturous and horrific, and the kids are about 10 or 11 when being put through that -- they would break if they didn't have some reason to hold on. Assassins are an expensive investment, and I doubt the cult would want their kids dying before making it out of training and carrying out some hits. Maki sees it as herself managing to resist somewhat, like a small "win", but perhaps the cult were banking on that, they were using her love for her friend against her to inspire her to survive the training and become a better assassin. Maybe they realised that if there was a way to give these mangled, messed up kids a sliver of positive reinforcement, the tiniest flickers of motivation, but in a way that the cult could fully control, then they'd end up with more resilient assassins. And with Maki this method was a roaring success.

And then what if they were the ones who had the friend killed off once she'd outlived her usefulness, and they needed Maki not to have any distractions from her work now that training was over... And they made it look like an accident, with the friend heroically saving a child, so that Maki would retain those good memories and use it to keep herself going, as opposed to breaking down and giving up now that her entire reason for doing all this was gone. She says it herself: "the memories of her I keep inside me have kept me alive till now." So maybe they were manipulating her and using her all along, letting her believe it, letting her keep this tiny sense of self in order to make sure their star assassin stayed alive and didn't give up entirely... I mean, we already know they're manipulating her by using her care for the orphanage, right? The better she does, the more funding the orphanage gets. They're already using that against her. It is a stretch to believe they'd use the person she loves most in the world against her too?

If that was the case, the worst part is that it happens all over again. She saw her protection of her friend as a personal victory, none the wiser to the fact that it's exactly what the cult wanted... and then here she is in the killing game, seeing her character development as another personal victory... only for that to be exactly what Team Danganronpa wanted, too. She could finally stop hating herself, start accepting that she too deserves happiness, that she can have friends again if she wants, only for none of it to supposedly be real. It's just "good TV". And the entire assassin backstory might not even be real, either. Maybe I'm just falling into the same trap by finding it so interesting and obsessing over it when it was all fake anyway. We'll never really know. Lies within lies, manipulation within manipulation...

But regardless, it DID keep her alive until now. And she does survive in the end. At least that much is real, so does it matter if the rest of it wasn't? Why do I stay up at night thinking about this??

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️