#check with a professional what needs to be worked on and what needs to be prioritised

[stellardeer]

I feel like a lot of people in various reblog chains of this post have kinda lost the plot, so I'm reblogging this version to bring the emphasis back on the AI "detectors".

Whether something like Grammarly is considered AI or not is a little irrelevant, but most people consider using a spelling/grammar checker to not "count" as AI (despite the fact that you may be able to write out a bunch of nonsense and have Grammarly correct it over and over until it passes as a sentence)

And what a teacher will generally use an AI detector for is to check if the student wrote the paper or prompted an AI to give them a paper. As far as I know, Grammarly can't finish your entire document for you based on prompts (but I haven't used it so feel free to correct me) so I feel like a lot of the notes trying to argue whether it counts as AI or whether auto correct is useless now are just getting away from the point this point was supposed to be making:

You can't trust an AI detection software to accurately predict whether something was AI generated.

And part of the reason for that is that AI-detection software could ALSO be considered a form of AI. It is limited both by the dataset being fed to it to determine whether something is or isn't AI, and by any biases of the human who programmed it. If the programmer writes a program that says "look for anything that isn't perfect English and flag it as AI", they are showing that they don't trust anything written in broken English. I'm not sure why it might flag a word like "devoid", but if the AI detector is looking for patterns amongst known AI samples and the word "devoid" comes up a lot, it might just assume that any text using the word "devoid" has a higher chance of being AI generated.

Let's go back to the Both Of These Are Bad part.

It shouldn't need explaining why AI detectors falsely flagging ESL writers' works as AI is just bad and just contributing to systemic racism, so let's talk about the ways in which it can be harmful to native English speakers.

As stated above, it's interesting that an AI detector might flag words that seem "complex", while much of mainstream writing is trending towards simplification, for better or for worse. It could mean that since a lot of non-AI writing is so simplistic, anything that deviates from that is considered abnormal. Or it could, again, just be a programmed bias of the author of the program. I think this is more the point that thebibliosphere might have been trying to make, not that Grammarly specifically is evil AI that's making everyone write bad, but that a larger cultural shift to more simplistic language is happening and when things like Grammarly tell you to simplify your phrases or an AI detector tells you that your essay was AI generated because you used a big word, it's encouraging this simplification at a much faster rate than if human editors and teachers were directing their writers/students to do so.

Grammar software is perfectly optional for professionals, of course, but if a student is going to fail a class because their essay can't pass an AI detector, well, they can't really opt out of that. They have to change their wording to something that might not be as vibrant as what they originally wrote, or risk failing and potentially worse action depending on a school's plagiarism policies. It's essentially going to train kids to write in specific ways to get around it, and they might not understand why their paper was flagged or what AI even is yet, they're just going to assume that their writing was wrong and needs to be fixed. And let's not assume that only the kids writing their own essays are doing this, either. If kids can write a whole paper using AI and then change a couple of words so that it passes the detector, they're going to do that too!

Again, the point here is that the AI detectors are not infallible, often make racist assumptions, and cannot be the only method used to check whether something was AI generated.

I don't really have a good conclusion because I don't have the answer to this problem, because it goes beyond students in a classroom and you won't always get a document history to check. I just felt like this post was losing it's direction and I needed to clarify it for my own sanity.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- when you're injured

SCOUPS:

he's speeding you to the hospital no matter how small the injury is. will lowkey make a big deal out of something as tiny as a cut. scolds you for not telling him sooner and for putting yourself in harms way. coddles you once you're home, refusing to let you touch a single piece of housework. he'll mother hen over you for at least a couple days before he accepts you're ready to be independent once again.

JEONGHAN:

laughs. (im so sorry) he will 100% start cackling first before he asks if you're okay. makes fun of you as he takes care of you and reenacts the moment for your viewing pleasure. scolds you for being so clumsy and will baby you as you recover.

JOSHUA:

the type of immediately jump into action. the moment you cry out in pain or he sees you falling, he's by your side as if he's teleported. holds you as he checks your injury, fussing over it and asking if you need to go to the hospital. will take you anyways even if you say no. holds your hand the whole time. tells you to be more careful cause he doesn't like seeing you in any sort of pain.

JUN:

if it's a particularly funny way you injury yourself, he'll eat that shit up. is too busy laughing to check if you're okay until you start crying and he'll be like oh shit it's real okay let me lock in. extra attentive once he realizes its serious.

HOSHI:

the type to let out a loud scream when he sees you go down with an injury - you'd think he was the one in pain. he wants to help, he swears - but he's just as lost as you are. the only thing he knows is to take you to the hospital for professionals to help you since he can't.

WONWOO:

is immediately playing doctor with the random bits of knowledge he's gained on the medical side of tiktok (why he's on the medical side of tiktok idk). he's meticulous and precise with it, taking care of you like it's his profession. will crack a few jokes (albeit quite poor jokes) to try and cheer you up. reads to you as you try to fall asleep, his attempt at distracting you from the pain.

WOOZI:

realistically, woozi hears about your injury over the phone. he's at work in his studio cooking up another massive banger, and isn't fazed when he picks up your call. you tend to call him at least twice to make sure he's eating anyways. worried when you tell him what happened and asks if you need him there with you. either way, he's packing up to leave asap, no longer in the mindset to work knowing you're in pain.

MINGHAO:

if your injury was your own fault, he'll look at you like: (¬_¬") he's sighing at your clumsiness and you can hear the disappointment as he tends to your injury, all the while nagging about how you've got to be more careful. calls his mom to ask which herbal medicine will fix you faster - jokingly comes back with ginseng tea, telling you its to fix your clumsy ass brain.

DK:

screeches when he sees you drop. gags at the sight of blood. he approaches you slowly, hands shaking to check if you're okay. he's inwardly very panicked and lowkey not hiding it well. this wasn't in the boyfriend handbook! he's ready to be there for you though, cheering you up with funny anecdotes about him and the boys, doing his best to make you laugh through the pain. he will do anything you need him to during recovery -- just far from blood and anything icky that might come with it.

MINGYU:

lowkey probably the cause of the injury (sorry gyu stans, yk i'm right tho) he apologizes profusely, stating that he is 'just a clumsy big boy' and cannot help that he just has a rougher hand with things. makes it up to you with snacks, cooking and cuddles. allows you to use this incident against him till the end of time, although he gets sulky every time you bring it up.

SEUNGKWAN:

complains that he's got to take care of you but does it lovingly anyways. "i'm doing this cause i love you. you're lucky i love you or i would've left you suffering ages ago." gives you that signature seungkwan side eye if the injury was your fault. chides you to be more careful.

VERNON:

his first instinct is to ease the pain with bad jokes. will ask you if you'd wanted it to happen 'is this the result you wanted, baby?' and will quickly stfu when you glare at him. follows your orders on how to take care of you cause he's lowkey very lost. puts on a movie once everything is done to help you relax and to take your mind off the pain.

DINO:

ya'll 100% were doing something stupid and got injured together. dino has that 'you say jump, i say how high' energy, and you're definitely both in pain because one of you was doing something for jokes and the other joined for fun. takes care of you while complaining about his own pain. is a big baby when its your turn to take care of him. tells you to never bring this up to his hyungs or else he will never hear the end of it.

[newrochellechallenger2019]

i need a fic where patrick gets a crush on one of art’s smart stanford friends 😭😭 like an english major girl or something 😭

*forehead kiss* (as promised)

omg yes did you crawl into my brain and see the english student inside me???

you first meet patrick zweig when you knock on art's dorm door and the door swings open to reveal the tall, curly haired brunette staring back at you instead.

he leans against the doorframe, his eyes looking you up down, unsubtly checking you out. 'hey' he says, voice dripping with flirtation.

your brow furrows, jostling the paperback under your arm. 'is art in?', turned off by his cockiness.

there's a rustling of bedcovers from inside the dorm and art appears by the door. 'yes- hi- uh- this is patrick, we went to school together and uh-.' he says, tone apologetic.

'i'm a professional tennis player.' says patrick suavely, extending his hand out for you to shake.

you nod, shaking his hand politely. 'nice to meet you patrick.' you say formally and he smirks, seemingly victorious. 'anyway, i just wanted to drop off my book, i've put all the notes in so you can look over it before the next lecture.' you smile at art, handing the copy over.

his face lights up 'seriously? oh you're a lifesaver!' the blonde says warmly and your smile grows. 'it's no problem really.' and he shakes his head 'nah i owe you one, thanks.'

you wave goodbye and the door closes, art turns on patrick 'no.' the blonde says quickly. 'what? i wasn't even-' protests the brunette, feigning innocence. 'no way, she's way out of your league dude.' art says firmly 'that hurts man.' patrick mock pouts.

despite art's protests, patrick was unperturbed and started to take more trips down to stanford to 'visit art'.

the second time you meet patrick is in the library, you'd been pouring over your essay for half the day when patrick stopped at your table.

'thought that was you' he grins, and even though it hardly been a month since you last saw him, his charm felt familiar somehow.

you look up from your laptop 'what brings you here? this is for students.' you say coolly.

he barks out a laugh 'yeah i know that, art dragged me here to look for some textbook for his presentation.' he waves in a direction dismissively and slides into the seat next to you.

'what are you working on?' he says, peering over your shoulder and as your shoulders brush, you feel a jolt of electricity.

'essay. you wouldn't get it.' you say shortly, trying to ignore the way his body feels against yours.

he clutched his chest dramatically, feigning hurt and you roll your eyes. he nudges ever close, practically pushing you out of your chair as he reads. '...prevelance of...american colonisation...' 'yeah okay.' you interrupt, turning to him. 'thank you.' you say with finality, staring at him as a signal to leave you alone.

he leans back in his chair and eyes you with a wry grin, 'you're right, it's too smart, i don't get it.' and you shake you head, turning back to your laptop.

'patrick!' interrupts art, and you both look over at him. 'there you are, you left me talking to myself by the shelf like an idiot' and patrick hardly stifles a snigger at art's put-out face. 'sorry.' he manages, not a trace of apology in his tone.

'come on.' art says to patrick, before turning to you. 'sorry, good luck with your essay!' you nod in acknowledgement and patrick stands up with a groan, 'spoilsport.' he hisses to art, 'never going to happen.' retorts art and they leave the library.

it'd been a couple months since you last saw patrick, art had said that the tour was too far out for him to travel easily so you'd forgotten all about the sparks that had flown between you that day in the library.

it was the early hours of the morning and you were browsing the aisles of the college supermarket, looking for a final caffeine fix to cram before your exam that day.

you hear a rustling behind you and a hiccup, 'i like the...caramel ones...' slurs a voice and you turn around. patrick is stood behind you, staring at you, eyes slightly glassy, his arms filled with an array of snacks. you blink at him, 'are you-' and he waves his arm to cut you off, 'art got some drinks.' and you nod 'right.'

you turn back and grab a coffee from the fridge, a caramel one and his face brightens, 'good onesss....yes?' he grins wide, 'sure', you reply with a tight lipped smile.

you walk down the aisle toward the cashier and patrick follows, wobbling slightly, 'hey- come back with- hic- me.' he says and you shake your head, 'i'm okay, i've gotta study.' art should be too but you don't say that part and the footsteps behind you pause and you turn around, patrick's staring at you like you just said the most outrageous thing in the world, 'study?!... study study study, is that all you do?'.

'no!' you say defensively, bristling with hurt as you reach the cashier. patrick slides alongside you and hands over cash to pay for your coffee before you can stop him, unceremoniously dumping his own purchases on the counter.

'i'm sorry...i didn't mean that' he says with about as much sincerity as a drunk man can, 'it's okay.' you say quickly, grabbing your coffee and starting to leave.

his heart breaks, the alcohol coursing through his veins making him more dramatic than usual, 'wait! don't go!' his voice breaks, and you look at him a bewildered expression, 'what? why not?', looking at him expectantly.

'i'm in love with you' he blurts out and your eyes widen, and he catches sight of your expression 'no- hic- i have a crush on you- i mean.' and his face is so serious, you have to press your lips together to fight a smile at how endearing he's being, 'i figured.' you say quietly and his mouth falls open. 'and do you-.' and you pause, taking him in, he was handsome, that much was obvious and when he wasn't being an ass, which was seemingly all of the time, he was sweet.

you step closer towards him, your smile growing, 'i don't know yet' you say flirtatiously and his eyes light up, 'kiss...' he slurs leaning in and you lean back, 'outside.' you redirect, taking his hand and leading him outside of the shop, leaning against the wall.

you slowly cup his face with your hands and lean in, his lips meet yours gently as you kiss but it doesn't take long for the kiss to grow sloppy, his hands going to your hips and lifting you up against the wall, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

he breaks the kisses, forehead against yours as he pants heavily, 'best...kiss...ever.' he mumbles, 'you're drunk' you laughingly respond and he shakes his head dramatically, before putting you down, 'gonna go back to- hic- art.' he says dazily and you stifle a laugh 'good idea.'

you watch him walk off, heart warmed by the brief makeout session you'd shared even if it was outside a college supermarket in the middle of the night.

he turns around, 'come see me on tour baby!' he calls and you grin 'will do!' and he looks overjoyed, half-running, half-stumbling in the direction of art's dorm.

hope you enjoy love <3

[uniquelyuninspired]

NOTE: I may or may not be absolutely in love with the below Thomfield fanart by @raihyeon, and felt the need to write a short little piece inspired by it. I hope you don't mind!

FANART LINK BELOW, DON'T MISS OUT ON CHECKING IT OUT!

• • • • •

Laying back on her handmade quilt, completely relaxed, face directed up to the calm blue skies, eyes closed; Amanda didn’t think that she had ever felt so joyfully at peace. She inhaled deeply to take in the blooming nature around the expanse of grass between Hellerton House and the lake where she had dragged Max to enjoy a small last-minute makeshift picnic in order to get the artist some sun for once. Of course, it still wasn’t technically getting her away from the campus like Amanda had wished for, but she took her victories where she could, well aware that Max currently had a fairly busy schedule with spring break quickly approaching.

After having – like always – absolutely devoured the food that Amanda had brought her, Max had slipped off to take a couple shots of the newly grown flowers and coloring trees around the area, muttering in amazement about having never expected the campus to be so beautiful in the spring. Amanda had teased her about the fact that she had said the same exact thing about the campus with every season shift, but Max had only offered her one of those heart-fluttering crooked smiles that were far too adorable for Amanda’s health, before sticking her tongue out at her and making her way closer to the water. Amanda had watched her wander around looking for perfect angles on anything that caught her eye, wondering if she ever professionally published her more lively work or if that was a part of her art that she kept to herself.

When the sun had moved out from behind a cloud and shined off the lake water at just the wrong angle, however, Amanda had been forced to look away, and so she had chosen to lay back on the quilt and relax while she gave her girlfriend longer with her camera.

The now incredibly familiar sound of a polaroid camera snapping close-by caught Amanda’s attention, causing her to open her eyes and look in the direction she had heard the sound float over from. This damn girl, she thought as she admired the smile gracing beautiful features, Max too busy easing the polaroid from its slot once ready to notice that Amanda was watching her.

Propping herself up on her forearms, Amanda stretched her legs out in front of her as she smiled up at her girlfriend. “You know, you still owe me that modeling fee.”

Deep-blue eyes lifted from the camera to find dark-brown, and Max lifted her eyebrows as she set her camera and the new pictures down on the quilt beside her bag. Now kneeling beside Amanda, she playfully said, “Oh, really? And here I thought I’d already paid all my dues.”

“Hey, my pockets are no more lined than they were before we started this arrangement,” Amanda teased, nudging Max gently with her knee.

Max moved over her and Amanda immediately made room for the woman between her legs, completely entranced by blue and unable to avert her eyes from Max’s gaze as the younger woman settled down against her. Resting her chin down on Amanda’s chest, Max stared up at her adoringly.

“I thought I was paying by means of other commodities?” Max spoke quietly now, as if she were sharing a secret that no one else could ever know.

If the lowered seductive tone hadn’t been enough to give away exactly what she had meant, the way her hands slid underneath her shirt and up Amanda’s sides, fingernails delicately scratching over skin, definitely erased any doubt. Immediately, Amanda felt the burning in her cheeks that indicated that she was blushing.

Still balancing on her forearms, she lifted her hands just enough to grab hold of Max’s arms. “I don’t recall ever having that conversation. I would never agree to such a thing.”

“It’s too late now,” Max said, sticking her tongue out at her as she pulled her hands from her shirt to instead slide them down her arms until she was playing mindlessly with Amanda’s fingers. “Not my fault you don’t remember. Shoulda signed a contract.”

Bringing one of her hands up to brush the hair back from Max’s eyes before settling against her face, Amanda slid the pad of her thumb over an irresistible bottom-lip. “Perhaps you can show me how this supposedly agreed upon ‘commodity’ is better than money?”

Max’s smile brightened, and she lifted up just enough to bring her lips over Amanda’s, teasing a kiss as she whispered, “I think I could manage that.”

[caught-tumbling]

I've been hospitalized and I've worked in mental health so I have some suggestions

1) You will see things that you don't understand. That's ok. As long as the behavior isn't harmful its fine. Unusual sentence structure, unusual requests, unusual movements, unusual associations, etc are just how some people function. So if you don't understand why someone is doing something try to just take it in stride, try not to laugh, stare, or look disgusted. When I was hospitalized a patient had a compulsion (I think) to shout their full name whenever someone said their first name, then they always looked embarrassed. So the best staff members just pretended it didn't happen which didn't stop the behavior but at least the patient was more at ease because they weren't being shamed.

2) People in psych wards often have a very dark sense of humor. Gallows humor gets us through. People will casually throw out the most upsetting and traumatic anecdotes as "funny" stories. You don't have to laugh along, just don't be too surprised. One benefit to being in a psych ward is a level of understanding most people don't have outside. People can drop a joke about the most horrifying shit they've survived and no one freaks out, they just laugh and share something equally messed up. That dark comradery was a weirdly healing part of my recovery. Sometimes as a staff member you'll have to intervene if people start looking uncomfortable but in general you just gotta shrug and move on.

3) Compassion, compassion, compassion. The difference between a good stay and a bad stay is compassion. Treat every patient as if they were a loved one. My worst stay the staff treated us like dangerous cattle. They didn't speak to us except to give orders, they ignored people in pain and distress, they refused every request just because they could. My best stay the staff ate with us, they played card games with us, they offered a hand to hold when someone was scared, they treated us like human beings. Just sitting with someone for a while can be huge.

4) Please report things. PLEASE REPORT THINGS. If a patient is harassing another patient, report it. If a patient is harassing an employee, report it. If a coworker is being cruel or neglectful towards patients, report it. If your reports do nothing then escalate it. I've reported patients, nurses, doctors, teams, even organizations both as a patient and as a professional. I've called the police. I've gotten people fired. You will need to do that sometimes. It sucks and is a little nerve wracking but you need to advocate for people's safety. The reports I made as a professional were taken way more seriously than the reports I made as a patient. The system is set up to dismiss patients so employees need to be more proactive. Please be an advocate. Some of the people you'll work with don't have any support outside the hospital, those are the most vulnerable people you'll probably ever meet and you won't always know who's in that group.

5) Talk to the patients. Avoid phrases like "I understand what you're going through" and use phrases like "I know this is hard" or "I'm here to help." If someone is having a hallucination or delusion that's upsetting sometimes it's better to work with the delusion than to deny it completely. If someone is worried there's bugs in their food just saying "no, that's ridiculous" won't help. But saying "I'll check to make sure there's no bugs" can help immensely. Some people will be scared of you due to anxiety, medical trauma, other trauma, or paranoia. You can't always change their mind. But you can show signs that you are a safe person. Little stuff like getting them an extra blanket, asking how they're doing, including them in their treatment plans, etc are vital but overlooked.

Help Me Train Nurses About Psych Stuff

I do a presentation at our hospital aimed demystifying mental illness and the people who live with it. The talk is for medical-surgical nurses, so specifically staff that does NOT work psych who feel ignorant about treating that population. A lot of the people I'm talking to are also young and still developing the foundation of their nursing practice.

If you've ever been in the hospital as a psych patient (or a psych patient navigating the medical system in general), what would you want the hospital staff to know based on your experiences? What advice or insight would you give?

I'd especially love anything about positive experiences, things that helped you, what someone did that improved the situation, stuff like that. In addition to saying what not to do, I'd love to give staff actionable things they CAN do instead.

[atskiruma]

Dr. Curly

assigned as the tulpar’s personal secondary mechanic it’s always important to remember that romantical relationships between crew-mates are strictly forbidden

a/n: a curly x reader, pre-collision curly, a little nsfw but nothing goes into detail, reader is 18+, not proof-read, not the biggest fan of this one but ill see everyone elses opinion

second-person POV, no pronouns used

I could feel the excruciating headache I had push against my eyes as I listened to Daisuke attempt to explain new slang to Swansea. The older man simply ignoring the young boy as he read over the manual for a broken part needing new installation in the medical bay.

It felt like the daytime screen in the lobby was brighter than usual, or maybe that was just my headache intensifying my vision. Whatever it was, it hurt. I could feel Anya burning a hole in the front of my skull at the same time, after already declining her offer of medical help when I had first walked through the electronic doors.

“So when you do something awesome, that’s when you’d say-” Daisuke couldn’t finish before Swansea had already slammed his paper onto the table. The sound making me flinch.

“Let’s go, boy,” Swansea said in a flat tone, also rubbing his eyeballs from what I assume was irritation from Daisuke’s voice and exhaustion from having to do his job. I watched the two walk out of the bay and into the hallway, turning back to see Anya still looking at me.

“Anya, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine,” I said, giving her the best apologetic look I could muster at the moment. I could tell she wasn’t going to budge when her brows remained in the same downward position.

“Please, all you need are some painkillers and I could easily retrieve them for you.” She pleaded, just as Jimmy and Curly walked through the door. Curly’s concerned stare was the first thing my eyes caught.

“You need painkillers? Why?” His baby-blue eyes set on me, occasionally flickering to Anya for answers. Jimmy spoke before either of us could answer, “Who wouldn’t on this hell-ship.” His gruff voice spoke as he sat down at the table with almost a ragdoll force. Anya had seemed to seize up, from what, I was unsure.

“Painkillers for a headache, but I’m fine Curly. I’ll ride it out.” I said, looking at him sideways with my hand shading the top of my eyes from the bright fluorescents. Curly almost mimicked Anya’s stare, “Why? Why not take something to get rid of it?” He spoke softly, stepping beside me to grab the top of my upper arm.

“Come on, we can go into the medical bay and get you fixed up,” Curly said as I looked at him from my chair. We kept eye contact for a few more minutes as I pursed my lips in denial, finally, I reluctantly agreed. “Fine.”

The walk to the med-bay was short. Curly still had his large hand wrapped around my arm, keeping a steady pace to lead me.

“Don’t you have important captain duties to do?” I said, my eyes glancing down to his touch and then towards the back of his head. He turned his face to me and smiled, “Of course, keeping my crew in check is one of them, which I’m doing right now.” I stared at his smile and then looked down at our shoes while we kept walking.

When we reached the medical room, Curly hadn’t taken his hand off me until he lightly pushed me to sit on a bed. Daisuke’s head popped out from one of the curtains covering the other side of the bay. “What seems to be the problem, Nurse Curly?” Daisuke spoke with a goofy smile taking over his features. However, it was kept short when Swansea pulled him back to working on the mechanical issue.

Curly breathed a laugh through his nose and stood in front of me. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and spoke, “You could of just handed me the bottle.”

“As a responsible nurse, I need to make sure my patient’s injuries are completely notified to ensure a speedy and professional recovery.” He said, reaching over to grab a clipboard from the wheely table.

I felt my eyelids droop in disappointment as what was going to happen next was clear as day. Curly ran a finger through his fluffy blonde hair as he spoke, “How would you rate your pain on a one to ten scale?”

“Three.” I mumbled.

“How would you describe your injury pain level in one word?” His eyes looked into mine.

“Can I use two?”

“Sure.”

“Mildly irritating.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, as the sound of a pencil scratching paper sounded through the silence. Occasionally a loud tinkering sound would cut through our conversation, followed by Swansea’s swearing and Daisuke’s audible wince. Other than that, a clock ticked in the white noise.

Curly was tall, I had to strain my neck to look up at him as I sat on the medical bed. Not only that, but he was close to me too. Closer than someone would usually stand.

“An awful lot of writing for a patient who only has a headache,” I said, swinging my legs. Curly kept quiet for only a few seconds longer, “I’m prioritizing your care.”

Before he could continue this play, Swansea’s voice cut through the air. “Christ sake, go get me the utility bag near the pods.”

Daisuke responded, “Um, you moved that, remember? I touched it to do that thing and you got all mad so you-”

Swansea’s lack of response was followed by dragging footsteps that carried out of the room, “Let’s go.” Daisuke followed and I watched them both leave. The door closing automatically with more force than it usually had. Curly didn’t seem to notice it but I kept my eyes on it a little longer in confusion.

My glare was forced away when he spoke up again, “Alright, I’ve finished my report.” His blue eyes looked at mine. “You’re suffering from… a headache.”

I stared back at him, “I would have never guessed.”

He smiled his charming smile and laughed his captivating laugh. Turning to get the painkillers from the cabinet. Not hesitating for a moment, he knew where they were the whole time. A breath of annoyance flew from my nose as I took the bottle from his hands, shaking two little white pills into my hand. All I needed now was a glass of water.

Curly was one step ahead of me, “Does my patient need water? Stay here, I’ll get you a glass.”

“Thank you, Doctor Curly,” I said lowly, a smile attempting to break onto my face.

Since the sink in the medical bay broke a while ago and Swansea claimed that it was, “the last thing on his list of things to fix,” it remained broken. As Curly turned and headed to walk out the door, his adventure was left short when he hit the automatic door head-on.

My eyes raised when my concerns from early were confirmed. Curly placed a hand on the door and attempted to slide it with force. “That’s odd,” he mumbled.

“You don’t think Swansea shut off the power because he planned on fixing that busted door next, do you?” it was known the med-bay door wasn’t up to code, but it was known to be shoved down the old mechanic’s list just like the poor sink was.

“That could be a reason..” Curly trailed off as his attention was focused on trying to open it. He seemed to come up with a solution when he turned back to me. “Don’t you handle these sorts of things too?”

I shook my head softly, “I handle lights and pipes, I’ve got no experience with the panel like Swansea. I don’t even know where it is.” My expression turned fearful when Curly looked away, locked in a room with my captain was not on my bucket-list. A slight blush coated my cheeks as I turned my head away from his view to look elsewhere.

Just when it couldn’t get any worse, the lights in the room dimmed as the night-time mode began to slowly start for the ship. I prayed that Swansea would see this and come back to close up his project for the day.

It was silent as Curly turned to think of a solution. All I could do was twiddle my fingers anxiously while my head came up blank for ways to help. I could see in my peripheral that he was occasionally glancing at me.

“Can you use your code scanner for some emergency-open-the-door thing?” I said still looking away from his handsome face. Curly shook his head, “Even if so, I don’t have my code scanner.” He pats his pants pockets. My eyes glanced at the motion and almost immediately looked away.

He sighed and walked over, I followed his every movement. “Mind if I sit next to you? I’ve got a feeling we’ll be here for a while.” Again, I had to crank my head to look up at him.

“Of course,” I responded, watching as Curly sat close next to me on the medical bed. His body causing it to dip slightly from the change of weight. The smell of the captain’s cologne filled my nose as I kept my head low.

“Hows your headache?” He said softly, I turned to see his face was close, only faltering a little bit, I responded, “It’s better, especially with Daisuke not in my ear.” Curly chuckled at my response.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, an apologetic look on his features. “What for?” I asked.

“If I hadn’t roped you into a stupid joke we probably would have left before Swansea and Daisuke. We wouldn't be stuck here.” Curly said.

“It’s okay you didn-” He interuppted me, “I wanted to spend a little more time alone with you, even though we weren't technically alone.”

I didn’t know how to respond, “You wanted to spend time alone with me?” He nodded in response without saying anything. My ears picked up the clock ticking in the background as my senses heightened to his confession.

His hand reached up and the back of it touched my cheek softly, I flinched a little from the sudden contact, our eyes never left each other. It felt like hours waiting for him to say something, but it was only seconds. “Are you oblivious or just hoping it’s not what you think it is?”

“What?” I said, shocked.

“Hm?” He responded, patient.

I blinked, he wasn’t going to elaborate. “What do you mean Captain Curly?” I said softly. He stared at me and rubbed his mouth with his hand. “Come on, you’re gonna make a poor man say it out loud?”

I nodded my head slowly in hopes he’d continue. Curly sighed heavily and looked around. His fingers tapped his knees.

“One could say you’ve grabbed my attention.” He spoke in a soft, low voice. I don’t think I blinked while waiting for him to continue. “I’m just hoping you’ll reciprocate my feelings. Don’t you notice how much I steal you away from others?”

The dimmed light, along with the silence of a quiet ship made this moment even more heavy. I could hear my breathing with how hyperfocused I was.

“I…”

“I didn’t look much into it, Curly, I didn’t believe I was your type.” Was the only thing I could respond with. His face contorted into a confused smile. “What made you believe that?”

We were cut short when a knocking sound broke the moment. Anya’s voice came from outside the door. “Are you guys okay in there? I tried to open the door earlier but I couldn't budge it, I brought Swansea…”

“And me!” Daisuke’s voice murmured through the door.

“And Daisuke…” Her soft voice continued.

“Alright, alright, move it,” Swansea spoke.

Even though my head turned to the door when they spoke, Curly never looked away from me. I frantically looked back into his blue eyes. “Curly…” I couldn’t think of what to say to the sudden confession.

“Can I kiss you before it’s too late?” He asked slowly and hesitantly. My heart picked up in beats as I nodded lightly.

Curly’s face came close to mine before I pushed forward a little and connected our lips. The soft plush of his overpowering mine kept my heart beating a million miles an hour. They moved together in a motion that felt like the last piece of a puzzle. The scruff of his beard scratched against my face as we moved together. Just as quick as it started, it ended, and an audible smack of our lips disconnecting sounded through the air.

I felt breathless as I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape. Curly seemed fine, his eyes droopy as he stared at me, in fact, he looked like he wanted to do it again but was cut short when the door flew open.

My eyes shot to the 3… no, wait, Jimmy was just far in the back. The 4 people standing at the doorway. Anya clasped her hands together while Daisuke beamed a smile.

Swansea gruffed, “Finally, save it for you two to get stuck in here.” I gaped, “You left us here!” The old man would never admit when he’s wrong.

“Curly?” Jimmy spoke, it was then I realized the Captain hadn’t stopped looking at me this whole time. I blushed and stood up.

“Thank you, Swansea,” I said quickly while barreling out of the room and past everyone.

“Oh! Your headache!” Anya said urgently.

“It’s fine!” I yelled down the hallway to my quarters.

Anya, Daisuke, Jimmy, and Swansea all turned to Curly. Only to be met with a big smile on his face. “Thank you, Swansea, you’ve done great work.” Curly said, patting the old man on the shoulder and walking in the same direction to the quarters.

“What’s with the pep in his step?” Jimmy said.

[georgiapeach30513]

Peach! Mrs. Pasta here...checking in for the second time in a few days!

Normally I just lurk in and smile to myself when I see your posts and banters with your followers. But tonight I just couldn't resist...

Ramen, bless him, is getting really good at the non-specific, vague-turnaround, deflective answers to personal questions! I'm impressed.

Also...Nobody keeps their hands more to themselves than Ramen does when he's around a lot of salty things. Is he on a low-sodium diet? Is that why he exercises such great self-control when it comes to these things? TBF, he's very gentlemanly when it comes to being around women, especially costars/colleagues.

I can see (most) people on here are either tired, upset, tired, over it, or a combination of both. I can understand that, especially for the mods that run these blogs. I notice that for a lot of people, separation of professional and personal for their favorite celebrity can be a difficult task. I don't blame anyone for feeling that way, it can be hard to "not think about THAT" when you just want to enjoy "THIS". I will say this though.

Something I have found time and again to be true, is that IF something/someone/someplace is meant for you, things will fall into place. If something is NOT meant for you, no matter what you do, things tend to fall apart. You can try and put it back together, but then something else falls. This has happened to me personally recently, where I was in a situation where I wanted to make something work because I thought I had no other choice and I didn't really want to rock the boat further and go searching for something else. Unfortunately, the more I tried, the more I compromised and kept on staying, the worse it got. I'd fix one thing, another would break. I'd get over one hurdle, another inconvenience would pop up. Finally, I decided to take matters in my own hands and started actually listening to what the universe was trying to guide me towards. It was very hard for me to do this, as I'm more of a logical/rational person, than a spiritual one (I don't really like reading signs or feeling energies to tell me what to do)...But I tried a different approach, and started asking the universe, "If this isn't right, what should I do?" And I would listen and wait, and then tangible things would happen, and then I started making different decisions and taking different approaches. Almost immediately, things started changing for the better. I'm in a much better place now (figuratively and literally).

Just some food for thought: Let things play out. They will. And hindsight is always 20/20. Think about it. I believe Anne's blog has a library that can be helpful for those interested. If all else fails, keep coming to Jen's blog where she posts stories, baking, and general hilarity to keep everyone's spirits up. You are truly a beautiful soul, Miss GeorgiaPeach! <3

Mrs. Pasta! Welcome back. Clearly, your presence has been much needed this past week. Which I do say that there is a reason one shouldn’t consume too much sodium. I suppose were all bloated, and now need to fast.

Ramen is quite smart. He’s playing it coy and vague, non-definite answers. He’s doing good, despite a quick facial change with some questions. It’s funny to watch.

For someone that is quite a gentleman and claims to love PDA his hands do seem quite to himself. But it is a family movie after all, wouldn’t want to be too obvious, I suppose.

I think a lot of people are tired, and more so tired of ongoing arguments that suck the life out of the fandom, much like an overly salted diet. So maybe it’s just the influx of salt that has everyone red in the face? But this is why I implore anyone to curate the space that you want. Filter tags, block blogs, unfollow blogs, create the space that you watch to see with personalities that jive well with your own.

The universe is quite a tricky lady. She usually makes way for things that are for you. Usually when you try to fit a square peg in a round hole, you’re met with resistance. You can sit there, and smile you’re doing it, but others around you will eventually be able to see that you are in fact creating a bigger problem with an impossible task. I’m glad you were able to get to a better place once you listened, and were aware that what you’re forcing isn’t for you.

I do think that hindsight is 20/20. There always seems to be something poking around that pops up at the last minute. Eventually things either fall into place, or you’ve created a big mess. @anneslibrary is a great well of information. And of course @annislittleshopofhorrors herself is a peach in her own right. You are a beautiful soul from the inside out as well, Mrs. Pasta. Take care, and never feel afraid to pop on by when you can.

[rotzaprachim]

one thing that’s being missed out a lot in everything from the American center to the American left’s election loss nitpicking is that imho if you use the terms “working class” or “class consciousness” to describe America or even Americans in a positive way, YOU are one of them famous elitest out of touch urban professionals that you’re also currently bagging on the right now because, while those terms are extremely established in economics and the global news sphere, they are not that popular or established among the actual trump voting communities you are talking about. you are one of them hated overeducated elites who might have watched a college lecture on YouTube or cracked an Econ 101 textbook from the library! You are one of the elites! Instead you hear a lot of “middle class,” the supposed party of the common man, and “blue collar,” which hasn’t described the whole or even likely majority of the American working class basically forever, or the “working man,” as if the vast majority of the country… doesn’t work. And that’s a loaded distinction. There’s loaded aspects of every one of those terms. America imho suffers from an incredible degree of classism, but it’s also an internalized classicism because of how many people believe there is something fundamentally more honest, hardworking, and real about being middle class then one of them Bad Poors, no matter what their actual income is. The middle class, after all, isn’t the working class- they could never be the people who need to pay for universal school lunch because THEIR child isn’t hungry. And the “blue collar” is fundamentally not the pink collar, the genuinely hated and more highly educated positions more often held by women, like teachers and nurses, and it isn’t the white collar positions like office workers and civil servants and social workers that are more disproportionately held by liberal voting city slickers. And it’s a working man, a real working man, not like those bad poor and illegals who aren’t working and take what’s mine anyway.

And these terms matter, these distinctions matter, because they tell you a lot about why votes for who and why. Key fact: a lot of analysis of the democrats “abandoning the working class,” and while I think it’s a) far more complex than that and b) a genuine problem that the democrats ARE too centrist and should shape themselves into more of a general social welfare liberal party, what’s often being missed is what the actual white working class - I’m sorry, middle class- who is abandoning the Democratic Party wants, and moreover, who they imagine to be “elite.” Because elite, here, is absolutely not in general and absolute class terms, but a miasma of factors that include education level, cultural markers, ethnicity, and some simple factors of straight up geography where cities are disproportionately liberal and where almost the entirety of the actual American left lives as well. If it WAS in absolute class terms Donald trump would not be the face of this discontent. Money is not sole, or even main, issue here.

and furthermore comes this: the hints of even white male working class political sentiment have not been popular when they’ve been tied even a little bit to progressive policy or Other People Getting Things. Check sherrod brown losing his seat, or the fact tim walz’s campaign didn’t pummel trump and vance into the electoral ground. And that comes back to the class distinction: pro-working class policy is not always popular among the conservative regions that went to trump because they believe they are not the working class and that these policies are never things that they could be so poor as to need. We don’t need free school lunch - I work hard enough to provide for my child. We don’t need childcare - our family can scrape through! We don’t need national infrastructure bills - we’re doing just fine! Instead is a mass rage that what people would be paying for is other people, that the working class is other people, who are not then, who are undocumented, who are not working, who are grifters. (A hell of a lot of this kind of sentiment was established in hillbilly elegy. A shit ton of white working class Americans voted for the guy who wrote the book on white working class Americans being dumb and lazy in a way he personally was fundamentally better than.) why should a hardworking middle class voter pay for freeloaders who could do something so embarrassing as be poor? To understand America, you have to understand that there’s a hell of a lot of upper class rage amongst people who are at the bottom of the heap themselves that lights on fire when issues of race, sexuality, and gender are brought into it.

so that’s my big take on what’s wrong with Class Politics among Conservative Americans that people are missing the fuck out on, and it’s backed up by both stats and organizing experience, but I would fucking love a lot of people being very loud right now to take their socialism a cake for everyone into some of the famously red regions and see how that actually goes over. I don’t think America has to be this way, forever, but it’s pointless to ignore the way it is. And I think there’s another important irony here to remember: people genuinely feel that there is something immoral and also dumb about voting for democrats, but they use their policies anyway. You think the conservative women who voted against abortion never got one? As if. But the same policy applies more generally - Biden’s infrastructure bills were absolutely used in very red counties. People who voted Republican still use Democratic policies in favour of social security to feed their children. It’s just that, well, on paper they don’t actually need them, because they are middle class.

[tigerincahoots]

WAS THERE EVEN A BETTER PLACE TO CHECK A BONE THAN A GRAVEYARD? It was fun to flirt. Not that Kevin considered what he did flirting – since to him it was more like crossing t’s and dotting i’s in the process. Say things as they were, as he wanted for them to be – leaving very little to the imagination. He had no time to play those silly little games where one party would play coy and the other would pull the veil bit by bit. No one had time for that shit. Instead, it was much better to make his intentions clear from the get-go. No need to leave someone wondering whether or not he was interested. Others would get off with the anticipation of not knowing – but definitely not him.

IF HE WANTED TO FUCK SOMEONE, HE WOULD SAY IT. And he was making his intention of letting Henry know he was very much interested in boning him. Maybe there was a rule somewhere that co-workers probably shouldn’t get involved physically and emotionally – but whoever wrote those rules definitely didn’t have a boner for their co-worker. They were probably the ones wanting for something to happen and ended up denied. But the emotional aspect of the thing… he sort of understood. Once feelings were attained, thinking with a clear head was much more difficult. People would often prioritize the safety of the person they fancied rather than the goal of the mission. There was a reason why he had never been in a relationship before. Sex was easy. It wasn’t complicated.

EMOTIONS?

FUCK THAT.

”YOU LOOK CUTE WHEN YOU BLUSH.” He could see it. The shades of deep pink and red adorning Henry’s face – he probably wasn’t used to having things said so bluntly or maybe he was unlucky in the sex department. But then again, from what he had seen – that was definitely not the case. He was hot. Anyone with half a brain cell would see that. But rather than keeping things tame and proceeding with whatever Henry wanted to do – Kevin had to indulge himself in one last snippet. So he did approach his partner, lips dangerously close to the other detective’s ear as he inhaled his scent. His cologne, his natural smell. As he counted the fast heartbeats inside the detective’s chest within his mind. “Makes me want to fuck you even more once we are done being professional, Detective.”

AND WITH THAT, OFF THEY WENT. Kevin remained behind as he gave Henry the space and time needed, arms folding over his chest as he stayed nearby. He was curious about what Henry was about to do but his ears and other senses were still checking their surroundings. No unknown scents. No other heartbeats but the two of them. They were in the clear. At least, that was what he assumed until he heard Henry talking to someone who wasn’t there. Talking to himself…? No. Something shifted. The tiger caged in the darkest corners of his mind seemed rattled, almost like something was happening that neither of them could see. But Henry was talking to someone. Talking to whoever died? He was hearing him explain what happened, his attention focused on something that only he could see. On something that wasn’t there but also … was?

HE WAS A FUCKING MEDIUM. Kevin’s eyebrows arched upward with renovated interest. Not one of those fake-ass mediums that read your palm and said you’d marry rich or used tarot cards to predict the future. Not one of those pretenders to talk to those who had crossed the veil. Henry Quinn was the real fucking deal. “Uh.” Definitely not common knowledge but that would explain why all the spooky and weird cases would end up on his desk. And that also explained why Henry smelled human. Because he was human. His gifts and talents had not changed his nature. Just a… nice little bonus.

”YOU CAN TALK TO SPIRITS.” Whether or not Henry was expecting him to freak out was irrelevant. He had seen far worse shit than someone communing with the dead and learning what happened. It was unusual in his very own line of work but not something he hadn’t seen or heard about before. “You talked to the dead guy’s spirit to learn what happened and gave him peace, didn’t you?” Spiritualism was not his forte but Kevin had read about things before. It would never hurt to be prepared – even if bullets or feline agility would do nothing against a poltergeist or a ghost. “This explains why all the weird cases end up on your lap.” The corner of his lips turned up in a fraction of a smile. He really couldn’t judge a book by its cover, could he?

”HI HENRY, THE PSYCHIC MEDIUM.” He was still his partner as far as he was concerned. Who gave a fuck if he pulled a ghost whisperer like bloody Melinda Gordon from that TV show? “So, a wolf – uh? And not a normal one? Funny that.”

They won't bother you again. Honestly, Henry could kiss him right now. The sentiment was sweeter than his partner knew. If only he'd known someone like Kevin in high school, that's when he would have been broken and bothered by bullying. "I think you scared the shit out of them, yeah. Thanks, really." He didn't know what else to say, and he was sure Kevin would put him in a grave if Henry went with his impulse to hug him.

Then the tone quickly changed and Henry took a step back from his partner as he eyed him. He then gave Kevin a small, playful shove. "C'mon, knock it off already. You're embarrassing me." Henry broke the oddly intense eye contact. His cheeks burned, his ears tingled. "Not you looking at my bone in the graveyard. We've got work to do, remember?" He cleared his throat, if only Kevin would stop giving him that look. Henry was afraid to ask what was going to happen if they went out for dinner.

He wasn't a strong man when it came to sexual desire. He'd always wait until it was clear, of course, but when a sexy man wanted him, and Henry felt the same, the chances of him saying 'no' flew out the window. He was a slut deep inside, the part of him that lay dormant since his college years when he'd really upped his body count. If they flirted, and things escalated... working relationship be damned, Henry would get his and be on his knees where he felt most comfortable.

All of this was swirling around that head of his, but no, he wasn't erect. "It's just sweet of you, is all. Whether you meant it to be or not."

Henry gave himself a little shake in an attempt to clear his head of the impure thoughts.

"Alright, you can stay, I do trust you. God help me, I don't know why, but I do."

Henry turned away from Kevin and faced the open grave crime scene. He had his notebook ready, and closed two eyes to open three. Kevin wouldn't see much on his side, other than Henry in a blank stare with a slight sway. There was no guarantee he would spirit-write either, but he always made sure he was prepared. Kevin would also hear Henry talking.

Henry looked around the cemetery, at first not seeing anyone, but then seeing a tail sticking out from behind a tree. "Hello," Henry said softly, "I'm Henry."

The figure emerged from hiding, looking scared and confused in his werewolf costume. This was not a man, but a child, a teen, no more than 16. "Look man, the weed's not mine, ok? It was my friend's!"

He doesn't know he's dead, Henry thought, and felt the fear and sadness in his bones. "It's not the weed I'm here about."

For the next several minutes Henry explained what had happened. The boy cried, which led to Henry crying, though his face was blank for the most part. Then Henry asked the important questions; who did this? Where did they go? And how did it happen? Once a spirit became aware of their demise, they're energy shifted and things locked into place.

Henry ended his conversation by taking the boy's hand and holding it until he faded away. He was passing over, as was Henry's job to help with. Being stuck terrified in a graveyard was no way to spend eternity.

Henry slow blinked again and came back to his normal senses. He could feel a dull ache in his head and chest, heart and mind, as he always did. To Kevin this must have looked like a mime routine or some other crazy thing. Henry wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

He looked down at his notebook the words wolf and north printed there among a throng of black scribbles that looked insane. He handed the notebook to Kevin. "I've got a general location. And I think you were right." A slight pause, then, "I'm sorry if that freaked you out. Hi, I'm Henry and I'm a psychic medium. Nice to meet you."

[elftwink]

have to work on a project today and an unrelated thing happened that just made me so so so so so mad (just some irl personal stuff), which normally derails my entire day because i find it so hard to come out of the angry/upset state and tend to just circle back and obsess over whatever triggered it but! today after 20 minutes of that i had a council meeting about it (<- what i call my decision making process) the outcome of which was putting it aside (!!!) for later when i could actually talk about it and resolve it (!!!) & in the meantime we could just do other stuff.

local man exuberant and jubilated to achieve feats of basic emotional self-regulation and was seen excitedly telling reporters he "never thought this day would come" and began giving a thank you speech to nobody in particular. more on this story as it develops

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Had an ADHD assessment a few years ago and the fuckwit that assessed me said, as a direct quote, "You're too smart to have ADHD." Like that's not any type of paraphrasing, that stupid fucking statement is burned in my brain forever and has been since I heard it.

I talked to my psychiatrist about getting a referral to a different psychologist for assessment, and she agreed and sent it in.

Today I got a call that said they don't agree that I need reassessment, and I'm welcome to pursue it elsewhere, but they won't provide reassessment. Which is just.

I don't even know where to start with that one. I just needed to get it out. I'm so tired.

[bangcakes]

.

[ninjaliike]

can't believe i missed our 6th birthday here! damn ... time flies, eh? ❤️

[aquarianconstellations]

I'm already stressed about the fact i NEED to get a doctor's appointment tomorrow why do they make it so hard i hate it i hate it i hate it

[minnichan]

Talk to your doctor as this isn't something to be generalised for all cases. A friend's doctor said that this study is actually older, just unpublished until this year (I've seen misleading claims about it being like the hottest new shit).

The tweet by davidjoffe64 cites no studies or examples for Covid-19 specifically, it's based on experience with other viral infections. I'm not saying it's wrong per se, just that it should not be applied to all cases automatically without consulting your doctor first.

Of course if you feel too weak to exercise, don't force yourself! But if you actually feel fine enough to move around and don't experience crashes, talk to your doctor about how much exercise you can do. When you're already moving around and feeling fine, don't let this study stop you. You don't want muscle atrophy to follow after 6-8 weeks of doing nothing when you could in fact handle some movement (differs case by case!)

If you're already suffering from post-covid, find somewhere that offers intermittent hypoxic hyperoxic therapy (IHHT) for post-covid recovery (in combination with other methods like extracorporeal shockwave therapy).

Study on IHT and Covid-19 here (published from 2021 [disclaimer I only skimmed it but it's outlining potential benefits from IHT]):

Short and easy explanation here:

Germans can check here for example:

(The therapy at covivid currently costs €€€€ but they are in the process of trying to get public health insurance to cover it.)

My darlings, my loves, my fellow weirdos, I am begging you all to REST after you have covid.

I know it is very hard, and our society asks you to get back up and running at full speed as soon as possible, before you’re even done testing positive even.

But please my friends, please rest.

If you push too hard too fast you might be sicker for longer, you might be doing long lasting damage to yourself.

So please my beautiful nerds, take care of yourselves and REST.

[flagellant]

Here you all go. Here's the answer to all the questions you never had about soy sauce and a single foreigner's totalitarian influence being a large part in leading to a massive decline in quality and a departure from important cultural traditions. There will never be a 2 hour video essay from me about this. There will never be a book about Blanche Appleton that I write. I had the closest thing I've had to a suicidal episode since I was 13 because of someone harassing me and deciding against literally all evidence that what I had in the end publicized was a racist and insensitive narrative rather than a carefully researched history pieced together with a team of multiple professional archivists internationally and a group of native Japanese speakers and Japanese academics.

I'll give all of you some free advice. Next time you get excited about your special interest on tumblr, don't talk about it.

I cannot fucking believe how much I'm losing my mind right now over soy sauce history. I'll tell all of you about it after I finish this essay because I need to un-distract myself enough to finish it but what the fuck? What the fuck is going on? I'm losing my fucking mind.

EDIT: if this is in your recommended page before you askme any questions about updates or whatever please just check the tag i'm using

EDITx2: this investigation is currently ongoing with live information being added as it is confirmed as relevant; I did not expect the entire internet to give a shit about soy sauce, and so early in the investigation there is quite a lot of outdated information, which has since been corrected, grown more in-depth, and begun to piece together into something more cohesive.

i am currently waiting on a response from the National Archives, a soybean innovation laboratory contact, and a researcher of the works of the Chief Historian of the United States during the occupation. this investigation is not an ARG, and in the real world, actual research takes time on a scale outside of the usual social media expectations. please respect that i cannot speed up the wheels of bureaucracy for you.

please just fucking respect me as a person, y'all, i promise that any of you reading this from recommended pages have absolutely no idea the level of shit that's been thrown my way over fucking soy sauce.