#fucking piedmont

[lyracreek]

Hi yes obsessed with these tags from @abyssalzones because I hadn’t fully thought it through but yes yes yes

Image description: [Screenshot of tags from @abyssalzones “#I know I talk about this fucking show all the time know but re-examining gravity falls remembering alex hirsch grew up in piedmont #california was so eye opening for me. that is one of the richest parts of california #and a massive part of the plot hinges on the stans having grown up worrying about being breadwinners for their family #but the thing about this. is that Alex fundamentally cannot understand ford’s motivations to escape his home life and go to college #because in all likelihood he didn’t have to worry about getting into calarts #he didn’t have to worry about getting a job making a show at disney #so he literally has no reference point for ford OR stan’s situation financially #like no wonder he thinks ford is selfish. he literally has never had to fight tooth and nail for success #autism rant over”]

I think one of the most important parts about film and tv analysis is never forgetting that no matter the genre or setting, the story is probably being filtered through the perspective of a person who lives in California

[imrisah]

My fiancée is Portuguese which means he has never seen snow and it's always so funny to see the pure childlike glee on his face when it snows. I already love snow but it makes it so much better

[devildarlindumbass]

shoutout Bertrum Piedmont we don't talk about that mf enough I think we SHOULD

[solitary-sir]

what pets does everyone like?

Joey: None (heresy)

Henry: Dogs

Sammy: Cats

Norman: Dogs and birds

Wally: Any, he owns multiple cats and dogs

Jack: Dogs

Susie: Cats (Despises dogs)

Allison: Cats and dogs

Tom: Dogs (no shit???) Grant: Cats (and shawn. he counts. he's like a lap dog.)

Shawn: Dogs

Bertrum: Birds

yall thought we were done no, we have an oc: Karynn she adores small dogs and birds

[pearlyscribbles]

Skrungly large headed man

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

LISTENING TO BOYFEEL

EEEEEEEEK

yes those are exactly the emotions

[faggotstump]

PATRICK STUMP WAS ON THE BOBBY BONES SHOW IN 2011????

[skautism]

oh god its all fucking hopeless

[trecciolinoooooo]

I had to do it too bc I'm fucking sick of people that associate north Italy with m1l4no so here you Miku from Piedmont (Piemonte)

I dressed her like Giacometta and she has a gianduiotto in her hand

[yandere--stuck]

AGH. Familial!yandere!Stan

Stanley “Stanford” Pines is far from a good person. He's heavily aware of this, as is most everyone else. He's a liar, a cheat, he's broken innumerable laws and can count on both hands the number of states he's been banned from. Hell, his main source of income comes from con artistry.

He's a hardened man. But, having Mabel and Dipper around... It's making him into a softie, but it's... Nice. Like what he'd imagine having a couple kids would be like, when he was a younger, better man. And now, it's hard to imagine the shack without the sounds of their squabbling or them running around doing who knows what.

He feels that, by now, they're like his kids, too. And sometimes, he allows himself to believe it's true.

But, it's not. He's too old and, hell, he's not even their grandfather. Just a grand uncle.

He doesn't want them to leave. Well, he will. When summer ends and the kids’ time with him is up, he'll send them on a bus to their real home.

But, he can't help but imagine a reality in which he didn't. A reality in which, against all odds, Mabel and Dipper want to stay with their Grunkle Stan forever. A world where they readily toss aside their parents, their friends in Piedmont, their school, everything they'd known, just to stay with him.

A foolish, selfish dream. One that's too unrealistic for Stan to consider for too long. If the kids were to stay, it'd have to be for a good reason. Like, say, their parents for some reason not being able to take care of them.

Ideas like that wash guilt over Stan in waves. Of course he'd imagine something like that. He'd already ruined Stanford's life (killed him, even, depending on what was on the other side of that portal.) Now what? He was going after Shermie's kid, too? Shermie's kid and the kid's wife. Just because he was too selfish to let go.

But… It's not like he wanted them to die or anything! Just, maybe, for both of them to go into simultaneous comas so the kids couldn't leave? A car accident, maybe. Maybe they'd be too injured for the kids to come back. It'd be convenient, really. The kids were already with a family member. They could just stay with him. Stan would enroll them into school for the time they had to stay. They'd get used to it. And if either of the parents’ conditions were to deteriorate…

The kids would be so lost. They'd need him to be there for them. They'd need to turn to him for comfort. And he would. Stan would do anything. He'd be their hero.

Stan actually made a face at his own thoughts. Disgusting. They were family. He couldn't pray for their downfall just because he was selfish. Just because he could already feel the encroaching dread of loneliness.

Maybe he could just lie, lie about what Dipper and Mabel couldn't leave. Like the buses would all be down for the next, say, six years? And his car had broken down. And there were no taxis. And no, they definitely couldn't drive down to pick up their own children because, er… The apocalypse was coming?

Or he could just run away with them. Because they'd definitely want to flee the state or country or continent just because their Grunkle couldn't let go. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally make the Stan O’ War II, with his grand niece and nephew as co-captains.

Now, that was funny. Utterly hilarious to even think about, even imagine.

No, when the summer was over, the kids would go home, and maybe, just maybe, they'd visit again next summer. But Stan couldn't help but indulge himself in imagined ways in which he doesn't have to let go ever again. And no one ever leaves him. And he is loved and he's important and he's not a fuck up.

That probably makes him a bad person. He certainly feels like one. But, then again, he always has.

[bunchofdoodlesinspace]

Fuck it, Mystery Twins Hcs:

[specifically post-show hcs]

It takes them a bit to readjust to being at home again. Everything is so aggressively average and normal it's almost mind-boggling.

There is unfortunately an argument about keeping the pig. But Mabel is stubborn and Dipper defends her. And Waddles is also just extremely adorable and hard to say no to. They keep the pig.

What they went through doesn't really start to Sink In until probably a week or so after getting back home. As soon as they're settled fully and back into a routine, it sort of slowly dawns on them that,,,yeah, that really did happen, huh. Some of it results in laughter at the absurdity, some of it fond reminiscing, and some of it...quiet, tense recognition.

Of course, they both get nightmares. Mabel starts getting such vivid ones about being trapped in Mabeland that she actually develops some level of claustrophobia. Dipper, on the other hand, gets horrid sleep paralysis, in which he'll be stuck, unable to move, while his own body stares down at him, wide-eyed and grinning manically.

They do their best to comfort each other. Deep down they know at some point they probably should bite the bullet and try to seek out something more professional, but there's no way to explain any of what they've experienced in a way that makes sense. So they rely on each other, at least for now.

They're still in contact with both Stan and Ford ofc! At first, they started out just having a walkie-talkie type situation, but eventually the kids convince their grunkles to get a tablet of some sort, so they can video call and actually see some of the stuff they uncover.

Trigonometry inexplicably becomes the funniest subject to both of them and no one understands why (it's humour to cope with the horrors)

Another way to cope with the horrors: making a game out of crossing out the "eye" in as many potential Bill peepholes as possible and turning the act into a competition (Mabel is currently winning)

Their parents are absolutely shocked when they both practically beg to go back to Oregon for the summer the following year, after being so reluctant the first year. It becomes the highlight of every year after that.

Mabel goes through like 5 different style phases over the next several years. Every summer post-show she looks different, up until she's like, 18-20. She never stops making her own clothes and stuff though.

They're the first ones to find the statue. Neither of them dares to go near it until they talk to Ford and Stan. And even after they can confirm it's most likely Just A Statue, they all try to avoid that section of the woods. Just in case.

The first summer following the events of the show, Stan and Ford notice the two of them carrying a book around with them. It's a thick notebook, clearly a fairly cheap one bought at some stationary store chain. On the front is a makeshift cover obviously put together by Mabel, with two symbols drawn on paper and taped to the front: a star and a pine tree. Between them sits the number 1, written in sharpie. Upon further questioning the twins explain that it sort of served as a way to handle all the weirdness in the world they were suddenly aware of. Sure, Piedmont is pretty normal. But every place has its mysteries.

Ford is mildly surprised to see Mabel so invested in the journal, given that seemed like Dipper's thing. And in a way, it is. Dipper writes most of the entries and Mabel mostly just adds doodles and pictures and whatever stickers she decides are appropriate. But the journal is just a log of their adventures, and those they always do together. Their first summer made it pretty clear to them: they each have their strengths, but when it comes down to it, they work best as a team. :)

[starsfic]

Grandpa and Great-Uncle AU: The Beginning

Summary: An hour after Shermie agrees to go to Gravity Falls, his son asks him to take his grandchildren.

AO3/ Ko-Fi

-_-

An hour after he hung up the phone, it rang again.

"Hello?" Shermie said. He wondered if it was Stanley, wanting to hammer out some last details or canceling the plans. "This is Shermie-"

"Uh, hey dad," Mark didn't sound as steady as he usually did. In fact, he sounded on the verge of tears. Shermie straightened up, concern rising. Mark calling upset was so common by now that his back didn't hurt after two years. "Uh, it's Mark... something happened..."

Ah, shit. With the state of his son's marriage, Shermie had to guess. "Did you or Ariel leave with the kids?"

"No," His daughter-in-law spoke up, her voice muffled. There was a sob in her voice that made Shermie want to hang up and drive over. However, it was ten in the evening and Piedmont was an hour away. "I fucked up and I said something really nasty to Mark and Mason..." There was the faint sound of her blowing her nose. "Mason overheard me saying something nasty about him and Mabel to Mark."

Oh. Oh boy.

"This is why I told you-"

"I know, Dad," Mark said before Shermie could start on again about marriage counseling and divorce. Everyone in the family knew that this relationship was a ticking bomb that would hurt the twins. "We know. That's why we called."

"We were hoping that you could take them for the summer," Ariel said, sounding much calmer now. "We don't want them to get caught up in the middle of us being shitty about each other." The foul language made Shermie raise a brow, but he stayed silent. At least they were taking responsibility and getting the twins out of the blast radius. "I- We know it's a lot to ask..."

"But, I would say yes," Shermie had to interrupt. "But I'm actually staying the summer with Uncle Stanley."

There was a pause. "Really?" Mark said, sounding baffled. "I thought he didn't want any of us visiting because of how dangerous the supernatural stuff could be." That decision had been made after the one and only visit to Gravity Falls that Mark had when he was three and nearly got abducted by fairies. It hadn't solely been Stan's decision, but Shermie had agreed.

"He...He said he needed backup because of how old he's getting and how busy the Shack is, plus how the portal's coming along," Shermie tried not to tremble at the memory of Stanley's voice, thick with so much regret and anguish that he was tempted to drive to where Filbrick was buried and smash his gravestone. "But, he's not doing well mentally. He didn't say it, but I know he's having a hard time, especially with how long it's been." It would be thirty years tomorrow. "I'm going to go to see what I can do, if I can maybe talk him into walking away."

Probably not, but he had to try. Stanford Pines wasn't worth this.

"Maybe the twins might help?" Ariel said, interrupting his thoughts. "You know how excited he got when he visited them in the hospital."

Oh, yeah. At the memory of Stan's elbow in his face, his nose ached.

But Stan had been delighted when he realized that there was a second pair of twins in the family. Shermie's favorite picture was of him holding the twins, their mom hugging him.

"I'll have to ask him. Give me a second." He hung up and his fingers trembled as he typed in Stan's number. Shermie wasn't sure if it was hope or anxiety, but he held his breath as it rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stanley, um...Here's the thing. Mark and Ariel want Mason and Mabel out of the house during the summer," Shermie said, trying not to panic as he said it all in one breath. "I told them that I was going to be visiting you and Ariel suggested I take them with me to-"

SMASH.

Shermie jolted at the noise, dropping the phone. He scrambled to grab it, his heart racing at an uncomfortable rate. "Stanley?!"

"Sure, bring them!" There was another smash. "I've missed the little gremlins. I can take them fishing." Another smash. "I didn't really get to do that with Mark when he visited."

"What are you smashing?"

"Oh, my beer." There was a thump. "Anyway, let me know when you guys are coming. I have to set up the attic and find the spare bedroom and find my cigars." And with that, the line went dead. Shermie blinked before he started dialling Mark's number.

Well, that was a hell of a yes.

"Hello? Dad?"

"He said yes."

[ckret2]

The Shermie thing feels more convoluted than just having him be a teen parent tbh

haha yeah it sure does. :) it's convoluted as fuck.

... i was gonna leave it at that but I just couldn't.

however, "the teen parent child of a teen parent with very poor & very strict parents is making the kind of money to afford a 2 story house in Piedmont Fucking California" is pretty damn improbable.

Dipper & Mabel give off "comfortably middle class" vibes; not "shocked and relieved to find themselves unexpectedly middle class" vibes. they reached their social class somehow.

they don't give off the vibes of children whose mother may have been knocked up in eighth grade. They don't feel like they were learning to walk and talk while their parents were still minors and their grandfather was not yet 30. They don't feel like they grew up in a household that had the strain of finding a way to make enough money and get a proper education and get a job that can support a family of 4 before even graduating high school.

If Mabel were the product of two generations of teen parents, I feel like the family around her would be a LOT more alarmed at how eager she is to get a boyfriend the minute she hits puberty. If their parents were 15 when Dipper & Mabel were born, Mabel's potentially less than a year and a half away from the age her mom was when she got pregnant with twins. Do you not think that would be reflected in how her brother & uncle view her crushes and how they talk to her about it.

Dipper's crush on Wendy would be more worrying. Never mind a whole road trip around being taught the art of picking up as many chicks as possible as fast as possible.

Even as loose a caretaker as Stan is, for their own sakes he'd be a lot more concerned about budding crushes if his baby brother & niece/nephew had suffered the consequences of starting families in ninth fucking grade.

Mabel's dad got the t-shirt she currently sleeps in at a conference he went to because of his computer job in the 90s. So, the computer job he had when he was, what, 14??

'Teen parents' was never part of the show's authorial intent and it FEELS it.

I can and will accept a whole lot of silly bullshit out of a cartoon's magic, especially the Silly Bullshit Magic Cartoon. I'm not gonna accept something that makes the characters' behaviors and personalities ring hollow.

in conclusion: I don't give a shit how convoluted a silly magical aging explanation invented solely as an excuse to dismiss the "how old is Shermie" problem is. The explanation exists for two reasons:

to communicate that no we're not going to invent a never-seen mystery elder brother, yes the baby is Shermie, and no we're not going to shove in a double teen pregnancy plotline that wreaks havoc with the intended vibe the family gives off.

to clown around a little with the absurdity, because the writers' not paying attention to the timeline created a situation where there is no non-absurd solution.

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 PAVIA - "sleeping dogs"

Pavia x Reader. 2k words. fluff Pavia's eye bags keep getting bigger and bigger, so you take matters into your own hands and force him to take a nap with you.

starting the sleepytime saga about blorbos getting some good fucking rest and writing a oneshot about it everytime i get sleepy because the world could do with better naps and more zzz's

this was all self-indulgent fluffy mess to make up for the constant FMN bullying in other posts

"You'll get sleepy in no time, trust me on this."

"Like hell I will," despite his protests, Pavia dutifully follows after you. Once you two reach the edge of the bed, he makes a show out of kicking off his shoes while pouting the whole time, if only to continue rebelling against you and your ideas. "What am I? A kid?"

"You're a grown ass man, Pavia - so act like it."

That gets a snicker out of him, and he instantly seethes about it - he's meant to be mad at you for suggesting something stupid. What follows is a long groan and a roll of the eyes, but he knows you're pretending not to hear him as you climb into the mess of pillows and blankets that he calls a bed. As usual, his room is a damn mess.

"It's just a nap, it won't kill you. Promise!"

It only takes a moment for you to get comfortable, rambling about the "golden hour" for naps - according to you, it was good to leave the curtains partially drawn to allow a small amount of sunlight into the room.

You're so convinced of this that Pavia can't bring himself to remind you: he doesn't need any type of light to see, his eyes having long adjusted to being shrouded in darkness. Instead, he lets you ramble as he makes his way to close the door.

Before he can do so, however, a few dark figures stumble and slide inside, all of them a little more eager and curious at the prospect of napping than their master.

Andrea sniffs around you while Tonika and Leon claim their spots under the bed, their snouts and goofy smiles partially visible. Peter makes an attempt to hop onto the mattress, but slips off and settles for laying down at his master's feet.

Pavia, of course, glares at them as if betrayed. The only one who stands by his side is Maleficent, imitating his expression to the best of her ability.

"Are you seeing this shit, Maleficent? Traitors, all of 'em."

The wolf in question huffs in agreement, and Pavia reluctantly sits down next to you, waiting for your permission.

It's only once you pat the empty space next to you - his spot, for him and the pack only - that Pavia plops down. Unlike you, he rests over the blankets and casually clasps his hands over his stomach, idly looking at the ceiling. With his schedule being all over the place and his unusual reservations, sleep is something Pavia does out of immediate necessity. Only allowing himself to sleep for a handful of hours when his body is at the brink of collapse, and so he finds himself wondering what to do now that you're forcing him to sleep recreationally.

Even so, his body language is relaxed and comfortable, that casual and lazy air he only has whenever he's around you. This is his home, after all.

Pavia doesn't think about the basement in Piedmont, but he sure holds his breath on instinct for a second. It's an old, nasty habit - the aftermath of all of his constant screaming and begging, as there was nothing else to do but sit and wait for someone to let him out. In the stillness of the room, he can hear everything: your breathing and his own, faint voices outside in the wilderness, someone passing by in the hallway - it's that kid with the balloons, judging by sound of her skipping around. The darkness cannot hurt him, not when he's reclaimed power over it, not when he's with you and the pack.

Something shifts in his peripheral. It's you, propped on your elbows and leaning over him.

"Don't tell me you're going to sleep with your glasses on." You don't wait for an answer and reach out to gently take them off, placing them neatly on the nightstand. For some reason, Pavia feels a little naked without them. "There, much better! Is that how you wanna sleep, then?"

Your question gives him pause, and he immediately defaults to his usual antics. "Now you're gonna tell me how to lay down? What's this, some dumb pop quiz I didn't prepare for? Next thing, you'll be telling me how to snore properly."

"Alright, fine, damn! But it's sooo cozy and toasty under the blankets." To prove your point, you slide down and sink deeper into the mattress, humming with that content expression. The blankets cover half of your face, and your big, dumb, bright eyes look up at him with mischief and amusement. "You're missing out."

"And you're going to start hogging the blankets the second you fall asleep, so what's the point?"

This isn't the first and it won't be the last time you two sleep together in the same bed, he knows your sleeping habits like the back of his hand by now. Pavia makes sure to pay attention to each and every little detail when it comes to you, after all.

"Oh my god, Pavia - just get in. It's easier this way." Pavia does as told, only because you're the one asking so nicely, and he lays on his side to face you. "Perfect, now come here."

"You're awfully bossy today, did you notice?"

He leans in once your hands reach out to cradle his face, rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs and coaxing him, ever so slowly, into resting his head on the space between your shoulder and your neck. There is no resistance from Pavia's part, the way his body melts with yours is automatic - like old pieces of a well-loved puzzle that simply click together time and time again.

Pavia's arms wrap around your torso and he brings you even closer, impossibly so, as if wanting to merge with you. The content sigh gives him away, and he wishes he could see your expression once he smiles into your skin. You were right, it is much better this way. There's no way Pavia could ever get tired of touching you like this.

"Getting sleepy?"

"Not yet," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, wondering whether to leave kisses or start biting you. He settles for the latter, a way to get back at you - it's a gentle nip that catches you off-guard, if that small gasp of protest is anything to go by. "If you want me to fall asleep, you're doing a really shitty job."

For a moment, he thinks you're mad at him when no answer comes, usually you'd pinch his back or bite him back. Instead, he feels your fingers softly carding through his hair, your nails on his scalp, moving in slow sweeping motions. Okay, maybe he spoke a little too soon. Being surrounded by you felt like heaven.

Pavia shifts, now burying his face in your chest. Like this, he can hear your heartbeat loud and clear, and he closes his eyes to take in the sound, committing it to memory.

While he's far from falling asleep any time soon, the weight and stress of the daily routine has certainly left his shoulders. Everything about you is soft and welcoming, and he has to restrain himself from biting you again once he feels you lean in, just to kiss the top of his head.

Fuck it, he bites the nearest spot, unable to contain his affection for you. The way he shows love might be unorthodox, but what matters to Pavia is that you understand the thought behind each action and word - he loves with an open mouth, greedy and full of love. A big bad wolf, one hair away from eating you up. And even then, he never bites hard enough to leave any marks nor to hurt you, not unless you ask him to.

Your laugh resonates in your throat and he keeps you from squirming away just to feel it vibrate in your neck.

Between this and your heartbeat, he doesn't know which one to pick as his favorite sound. The way you say his name behind closed doors, so softly and so gently just for him to hear, is definitely up there with the others in his personal ranking.

"Stop biting and start sleeping, idiot." There's a happy tone in your voice, one that urges him to continue bothering you.

"Easier said than done, stupid."

Taking your free hand, the one that tried so rudely to push him away in protest, Pavia presses his lips against your knuckles, one by one. You seem to like that, as hinted by the way your legs tangle up with his, locking him in place.

"I swear I'm doing my best here to get you to stop moving. Try counting sheep? Or wolves, I guess. Speaking of..."

You make an attempt to look for the pack, only for Pavia to pull you back down. He doesn't need to count the wolves, he knows exactly where they are - nestled together under the bed, laying down in the middle of the room with their soft, fluffy bellies on display, so drowsy and happy to exist in the same time and space as you. It's no mystery that each and every wolf is an extension of himself, a shameless display of his own thoughts and feelings, and even though this is something you're fully aware of, Pavia would rather save himself the embarrassment of admitting any of this.

"Now you're the one moving around, interrupting my precious sleep. What do you have to say for yourself?" He teases, hoping you'll indulge him and keep bantering back and forth - but you press a gentle kiss to his forehead instead.

"My bad..." Pavia knows you're not gonna last any longer the moment a yawn interrupts your words, and he's right - you don't speak anymore after this.

Your grip on him loosens gradually. First, it's the hand that kept playing with his hair, now gently petting him until it slowly comes to rest on the back of his neck. It's warm, so very warm. Next is your breathing, slow and steady, along with the rise and fall of your chest. Pavia nuzzles into it, feeling himself breathe in perfect harmony with you. And finally, your legs - he feels you kicking around, curling up and clumsily drawing the blankets towards you until his legs are exposed to the cold.

There it is, he thinks to himself, smitten and endeared by your sleepy crimes. It doesn't matter though, soon enough the whole pack comes climbing into the bed, forming a soft, black mass at the edge and near your feet. All of them unable to stay away from you, just like him.

Silence settles in and the world grows loud once again.

The soft panting from the pack, the voices outside, the constant stream of steps and life all over the house. Someone is in the kitchen, there's the telltale sound of glass against wood. Somewhere else, a door closes and another creaks open.

Pavia knows that you would never dare to ask the reason behind his awful sleep habits, and there's no way he could ever explain the totality of it- yet here you are, trying to help him nonetheless. It's annoying to have you constantly point out the bags under his eyes, but he respects you for it, for having the nerve to call him out and set him straight when needed. Part of him revels in the undivided attention and scrutiny, to have you all to himself whenever you scold him, examining his tired eyes.

He wonders if you know the power you hold over him, how impossible it is for him to tear his eyes from you. Even now as you sleep, Pavia feels himself slowly forget about the outside world in favour of your soft murmurs, those dumb little sounds you make that he can't get enough of.

You're doing so much for him, perhaps it's about time for him to meet you halfway. From his spot, he looks up at you one last time - he wants this view to be the last thing he sees before he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

"Night, vita mia. Don't let the bed wolves bite."

[bendyredrawn]

BERTRUM PIEDMONT BERTURM PIEDMOND WHERE IS MY FUCKED UP CAROSEL BOIIIII

sorry but.. berturm and bendy land don’t really exist in this au

it’s been replaced by a run down city area which like various cartoons in the 30’s, represents the state of America at the time (during the Great Depression). The streets of the town are stalked by the butcher gang which play a similar role to their cartoon counterparts as criminal/mobster guys.

Maybe I’ll include Berturm as one of the residents here but idk you’ll have to wait and see

[hyenaswine]

there are tons of white people in oakland! they are in no way a minority! but people from the foothills had created this terrifying spectre for themselves of what it must be like living Down There with all those *whispers* black people. & they'd try to code-switch with me because they assumed that all white people wanted to live in the foothills or the city or piedmont & only lived in oakland because they were poor, & that they must be terrified for their lives all the time. so they tried to show me sympathy & open a window for me to voice this utter terror that they were CONVINCED i must be hiding. buddy i'm a white person living in grand lake, i am perfectly safe, i have nothing to be afraid of.

living in oakland as a white person was wild because whenever i told a white person from the foothills where i lived they'd get the most pained, pitying, terrified expression on their face & they'd say "oh my god, what's it like?" uh. normal??????? it's normal. are you okay?