#literally solved so many things in minutes that no one else could because they know Rook

[moon-mage]

Okay so this reminds me that me and my sibling have verbally came up with a fanfic where Rook has been a double agent this whole time and is now trying to kidnap all the overblots.

Let me tell you…Rook Hunt knows WAAAAY TOO MUCH. Every single idea we had as to how the gang would face against this man or getting the upper hand was immediately thwarted because he would be like 100 steps ahead of the game. Most of the story was Rook just “I already did that 30 minutes ago” or “I knew that. That’s why-”

It was hilarious as hell and we used up so much brain power for it. We spent like HOURS making up this story together and like the only people who got any sort of upper hand was Azul for like 7 minutes tops and Idia for like 46 minutes (they then realized Rook has very pettily used his signature spell on him).

Making Rook the antagonist is WORK when he is the plot hole duct tape.

My favorite thing in twisted wonderland fanfic is when the author can’t explain how a character got information without creating a plot hole, so they just blame it on Rook

Like they’ll be like “How did [character] know that reader broke their foot? Rook told him.”

It’s genuinely so funny pls don’t stop

[kriegermeanswarrior11]

So Ashlyn basically confirmed what I've been saying for more than an year: she's a selfish narcissist who needs to be the center of attention all the time. When that didn't happen for all the reasons we already know, Ashlyn ran off to someone else.

Ali is not an affectionate person.

She knows it. Ashlyn knows it. We all know it.

Ali is super focused on her career.

She knows it. Ashlyn knows it. We all know it.

So what happened? Kids and retirement.

All the affection that Ali previously gave to Ashlyn has been poured onto the kids (as any mother of two infants would do). Plus Ashlyn found herself outside of a world she had been a part of for 20 years.

A world she shared with her wife.

A world Ali was still a part of.

A mature person would have tried to solve the problem, to step forward and take responsibility.

Maybe asking questions. Maybe putting aside the ego for 5 minutes. Maybe having patience.

But not Ashlyn Harris ladies and gentlemen.

The solution that her brilliant and empathetic mind gave birth to was: open marriage. 😒

So put yourself in Ali's shoes for a second: you're wrapping up a stellar career, you have two young children, a dying father, and a wife who keeps telling you that she feels special, that she needs sleep, and that if you're not willing to give it to her, she'll suggest an open marriage.

Because the only thing she really cares about is herself. And she's doing it now!

She literally said that in Sophia's place there could have been anyone: she just wanted attention and intimacy, Sophia was there and so...

As I was reading this part I was like, "Do I have to feel sorry for Sophia Bush now?!" 😅😂

And this is the biggest reason, among many, why their relationship is extremely unhealthy.

I find it disgusting what she has done and said.

I find it disgusting that she never takes responsibility, that she always blames others.

And I find this belief that she is special truly pathetic.

Who the hell do you think you are Ashlyn Harris?!

You were so keen to prove that gay couples are equal to straight ones, that you behaved like the worst husband.

But most of all, you are the worst human being.

[itsjustrosee]

hii. i was wondering if you’d be okay with posting boyfriend headcanons? for minho mostly. if not it’s totally fine!!

have a nice day!

yes, I've actually been meaning to write some so yes definitely!

Minho headcanons

Warnings: Sexual inferences and stuff like that ig

(this is for fem!reader btw)

-At first, Alby tried to stop you from dating his best runner. He thought it would distract him, and even though Minho did drift off while on the job thinking of you, you made him even more productive. You made him even more determined to find a way out of the glade for you and for everyone else.

-Alby forbade you and Minho from dating, but of course, you both did it anyway in secret. But straight away, Minho's drastic increase in mood was visible and the runners couldn't help but notice it. After days of prodding and poking Minho, trying to figure out what it was that had him being so nice and lenient, he finally caved and told them how he was dating you. Obviously, the other runners were supportive of it if it meant that Minho was in a good mood all the time, so they all ran to Alby and BEGGED him to let you and Minho date so you no longer had to do it in secret. Alby eventually gave in and allowed it and hasn't had too much of a reason to regret it since.

-Minho was quite the protective man. He cared about you more than life itself and it pained him every day to run into the maze and not be able to look after you in the glade. He always trusted you and never thought you would do anything with anyone else, but he was scared about how some of the other boys in the glade would treat you. That's why he made sure that he got as many of his friends in the glade to look after you until he got back.

-He would always be sure to spend the most time with you as possible as he could when he got back out from the maze. That included him eating dinner with you, showering with you, literally doing anything with you.

-Even though no gladers other than him and Alby are allowed in the maze room he would let you in anyways. You had no idea about how to help him figure out how to solve the maze, but you'd always be there to calm him down once he got frustrated.

-You guys share a hammock with each other because you both always fall asleep quicker when you're next to each other. It also means that whenever either one of you wakes up suddenly bc of a nightmare, the other person is there to calm them down.

-Minho tries his best to not wake you in the mornings when he gets up early to go into the maze and to yk do his job, but since you're such a light sleeper you always end up waking up. You'll end up walking to the maze doors to wave and kiss him goodbye, then head back to bed for a couple hours until you have to go to work.

-Whenever Minho takes a break in the maze with the other runners, while he eats food or drinks water, he always mentions you in conversations. He'll say things like "I wonder what (Y/N)'s up to", and "Do you think she's eating lunch right now too?" Because he's constantly thinking about you and he can't help but ask.

-After the first few times of Minho saying stuff like this, the other runners thought that it was cute that he liked you so much, but now, they just roll their eyes whenever he brings you up and they'll say, "Okay Minho we get it" because after the number of times he talks about you on a day to day basis, yes, they definitely do get it.

-After a certain amount of time in the glade, you've memorized when the maze doors close and open without needing a watch. Because of this, you always head to the maze doors a couple minutes before they're supposed to close to greet Minho right when he steps back into the glade. Whenever he comes back you greet him with the tightest hug known to man because the maze is incredibly dangerous, you know that any day Minho could die in there, which is why it's such a relieving feeling when you see him again.

-Sometimes you guys will go out later at night and just lay on the grass together and talk for however long you both feel like. Minho always makes sure he spends time with you whenever he can, and you both appreciate having these long conversations with each other. Even though sometimes you both just lay on the ground and stay silent, it never feels awkward. Being in each other's presence is enough, and the silence between you can actually feel quite comforting.

-Whenever a new greenie pops up from the box and there's a bonfire, you and Minho make sure to spend all the possible quality time with each other. Sometimes you'll sit on his lap (which never fails to get him a bit flustered), or you'll sit right next to him while his arm is around your shoulder. You've never really been one to drink so you'll often fall asleep on Minho before the night is over, and he'll always leave a little early to carry you back to your hammock.

-You and Minho have come to realize that using each other in certain ways really helps relieve stress. Whether that is by talking and venting to the other person or through being more intimate with each other.

-Minho likes bringing you into the maze room and doing it there because he knows that only he and Alby are allowed in there so he doesn't have to worry about people walking in on you both. He also likes doing it in the showers because being the only girl means that you're the only one allowed to shower during a certain time, and Alby made sure that there would be consequences to whoever tried to intrude on you showering. But that also just happened to make it the perfect time for you and Minho to be in there alone.

-Minho has two different sides to him when you and he are both doing it, which depends on his mood. He's either gentle and kind, or dominant and controlling. Both of them are a total turn-on for you regardless, you're happy to help him in any way you can.

-You love to tease him, and he loves to put you in your place. He always makes sure your needs are met. Even though he loves to please you, you love pleasing him even more, so eventually he gives in and lets you make him feel good. While you're doing it, he always wants to make sure that you know that he loves you, and he loves to praise you.

-Even if he gets more dominant with you, he always makes sure he's never too harsh, and he makes sure that he's never crossing any boundaries. Afterwards, he'll make it clear that he loves you and he'll thank you for letting him take out some of his stress and frustrations with you. He also heavily believes in aftercare so he'll always bring you back to your hammock and because whenever you do it, it's at night, so he'll cuddle you to sleep while you wear his shirt.

Alrighty yallllllllllllllllllll heres another Minho related post. I'm on such a roll omg. By the way I see your guys requests and I'm working on them I promise!! I just have an insane amount of school work I need to do but trust I will get to everything.

anyways, this was so fun to write, thank you for the request!! I hope you liked it

[kappuccinostudies]

I know this is a long read but I believe this might help if you’re going through a burnout.

Last week I was so drained I couldn’t do anything. Let alone studying 11 hours a day as I planned, some days I couldn’t even pick up my pen and solve just one question.

Each day I said to myself “It will be better tomorrow. I will wake up and finish the things I need to do.” but every day proved to be worse than the other. My tutor was out of the city for a conference so I was on my own and needed to finish everything before he arrived. (I am a person who scolds herself if I don’t finish my tasks on time, even if sometimes my teachers don’t care, I do.) But I couldn’t finish most of them. Today is literally my last chance. I had to wake up at 5am and rarely take any breaks if I wanted to complete everything.

But I couldn’t. I woke up at 9, and just getting out of bed took all my energy. I went into the living room and fell asleep on the couch. For three hours, no matter how many times my mum tried to annoy me into waking up, I laid there without even once uttering a word.

And by my 1682597th dream, I had an epiphany.

This is my journey. This is me, working towards my own dream. People around me obviously care and feel for me, that’s why they worry when I fall behind. But if they had to give in the energy I give in each day, they couldn’t do it.

Because I wake up every day to my goals. Every morning I choose to keep going. Every second I am choosing to not give up on my dreams of becoming a successful person. I could easily change my mind any minute, choose another major, and I wouldn’t have to study as hard.

But I am not.

For 454 straight days, I woke up with this dream and there wasn’t a single day I didn’t want it. Not a single day where I said “Oh you know what, fuck it. I don’t want this.”

I had my days where I cried, screamed, even hit myself. I had my days where I was so exhausted that I kept looking at other majors I could get into but I never felt the same connection so I just stood up and kept working.

I am the one who might lose what I want, not others. I am the only one who is putting in the effort to make it happen because nobody else’s effort could make it possible for me.

So if I say “I did not have the energy for this.” they have to believe me.

If I am honestly EXHAUSTED, to a point where I don’t want to see my favorite pencil, it’s okay for me to fall behind a few weeks.

Now I will just get up. Once again. And do what I can. No rush, I have 145 days to go, and it’s better to actually learn the material than to have to come back to it later.

Keep trying. Even if it’s reading one sentence a day. Your dreams are yours for a reason.

[bibibbon]

Now it's not about one of my wips. So ...I stumble a post here talking how Dabi was this close to became a Nomu, how dabi knows what Nomu are (maybe he is not well versed but it's not out of pocket he would know what is a Nomu) and ...how he may know how afo doesn't give a shit about shig(the last one is just common sense) and it makes me think...

Dabi has so many reasons to hate shig. Shig who gives nomus uncaring and willy nilly and use them as a weapon ...could make dabi think of endy (oooh no one would ever think that, but think this way Toya is a toy/project Endy created and tossed aside...shig does the same with the nomus)

I love them as frenemies....but Dabi has legit reasons to not like Shig...and I dont even think, in shipping sense, a hate sex situation would cut out.

If dabi wasn't suicidal...I think he could steal shig's position, kick him to the curb and...maybe killing the remain nomus as a mercy killing ( the last one is just an idea. Dabi is a villain, but before hori made him "the lil devil" to justify Endy...I think it was possible for him...to do that)

So ...imagine an au where Dabi does that. Shiga lost everything, and Dabi wins bc he is smarter.

This is not motivated by any bashing feelings. I like shig but possum doesn't give a shit to nomus, Kuro or anything else...he is a npc ...so maybe if he had to struggle and pull himself on his feet, without any plot device ...maybe the character could grow.

Hi @mikeellee 👋

It is true that dabi was incredibly close to becoming a nomu, considering that AFO literally retrieved his dying body and put him in one of the controlled hospitals where they kept kids there to turn them into another shigaraki puppet or a nomu.

From what we get in chapter 350 from Dr garaki, I don't think Dabi fully knew the inner workings of how Nomu's are made but I do think that he knew that Nomu's were once humans that were experimented on. Personally, I believe that the first time Dabi heard about Nomu's was probably rumours from the street of people commenting on how the ruler of the underground has created living puppets.

Dr garaki admits that Dabi by the time he left the hospital knew more than he let on, he knew what the hospital was for, knew what the hospital meant what they were selling to him, what they wanted to make him become and he rejected that. I believe that a part of him rejected that because he wanted to go back, he wanted to prove that touya is indeed alive, he wanted to reach for his family's embrace, to apologise to his mother, to earn validation from his father yet all of that crumbles the minute he sees what enji is doing to shoto. Touya dies, and dabi is born living only through sheer hate and determination for revenge.

Ultimately, I believe that the moment dabi meets Dr. garaki a second time, he is now fully aware of the origins of the nomu and has completely understood and solved the hospital case. He realises that everything is connected and he hates it.

By extension, he would hate shigaraki or completely dislike him for his ignorance. After a while he would also figure out that shigaraki is just a pawn in the grand scheme of things and I think (due to dabi's already toxic beliefs like victim blaming) he would grow to hate shigaraki even more. However, I do imagine that other emotions would grow something akin to pity as he sees shigaraki trying to break out of the mould just to fully fall into AFO's trap. Maybe dabi grows to hold a tiny ounce of care, trying to indirectly deter shigaraki from doom, but again, that's neither here nor there.

Also, I agree heavily with you that if Dabi wasn't suicidal then he would probably rebel on a larger scale, taking over and becoming a new leader. However, dabi is a man full of hate. That's the only reason he is alive. He is a man out of time, a man who is slowly dying with one goal in mind : revenge.

[anticmiscellaney]

I absolutely adore your work! What's your process been like for writing NewOldRare and developing Neil and Louis? Your art and character writing feel so genuine and realistic to me, so I'm really curious how you go about it!

Thank you! I've always been obsessed with character-driven stories and interaction, so I guess this is the result of years of practice and observation, and dismantling stories that do and don't work to see why.

Unfortunately, there isn't a clear way to explain it. It's one of those "you know when you get it right" things, requiring an eye developed over a long time. I will redraw things if I don't feel like I've captured the nuance I wanted to, and a few months later I'll look at it and see where I could have done better. Same with writing. I'm obsessed with pacing and page design, I had a moment of "that's how I think about it too" when Will Eisner described comic panels like music.

The technical approach is I make notes about stories I want to write, then I expand that into outlines, then scripts, then thumbnails, then I draw the comics and colour them and finalise the dialogue. At every stage I'm asking myself if it feels right, if I'm getting across what I want to. That's not to say there aren't surprises and things don't develop organically, but every stage is an attempt to solve as many problems as I can before the next stage. My thumbnails are quite detailed because it makes pencils easier, and I spend a while on them.

I have total aphantasia so I am operating off feeling rather than any mental images. I have no idea how it works and no idea why I pursue this when I'm missing what many visual artists describe as a crucial component. I just do it and I have better things to do (art) than wonder about something I can't change. I don't think it's made me a better or worse artist, though I think it has given me different ways of approaching/developing things. But also, literally everything about you makes your work different to everyone else's work.

You need to care. If your character is into music, listen to that music. If they have an old car that keeps breaking down, read up on common problems for that model. If they work as a film projectionist, watch a training film about using the machine. The characters care about things, have things in their lives that matter, have skills and interests and challenges. If I don't care enough to understand them, why should anyone reading it care, and also why am I writing it if I don't care?

So I do, and in caring I understand them better. This helps me develop characters/story but it also gives me so much more to write/draw. Understanding how things work and how they are done from a physical standpoint makes writing/drawing them easier too. The more you put into your head, the more you can get out later. I'll do way less for a 12 page short than for a 300 page graphic novel, obviously. Pick your battles, a little can go a long way.

They tell artists to collect visual references - solid advice - but you should collect substance too. If you pay attention, you will hear and see things you could never in a million years make up.

I find online socialising difficult, so I go out regularly and talk to people, or just hang around and observe. Chatting with strangers mostly involves listening to them. No one in gay spaces is interested in flirting with me (I'm rather homely and queer men assume I'm straight) but I think an audience is just as appealing sometimes, and maybe even harder to find. You'd be amazed what people will tell you if you're genuinely interested and listening. I once spent forty minutes at a sci-fi con talking to a guy who'd recently gotten into fisting. While I have zero personal desire to partake in that activity (and he had no interest in being fisted by me), I'm engaged, I'm invested, I'm asking questions, spare no detail.

I collect behavior and movement and the ways people interact too. Reading stories on reddit or whatever is one thing, but the words might not be as interesting as the way they're standing, the way their hands move, the way they respond. A guy in a bar once literally humped my leg like a dog because he felt I wasn't paying enough attention to him. I would never think of that as a response to that situation, but he did, and he followed through. Fortunately my friend had just tried to drunkenly sit down and missed the chair, otherwise I would never hear the end of it.

I see the leghumper around sometimes, he's got a boyfriend and avoids making eye contact with me, thank god.

[diy-fire-water-pups]

Heya, guys! Just an ask for you guys, especially for Rocky. What do you guys feel about those cyber trucks? To me, I get salty because people drive a frickin TRAPEZOID!! it looks like an oversized microwave with four wheels! Even raccoons are attacking those trucks because they think they are dumpsters. But hey, that’s just me. What do you guys think?

If only the problem would be ONLY that this truck looks like a trapezoid… Someone once joked it’s Lara Croft in her first game - I had to look that up - but to be very honest, I think she has more polygons than a Cybertruck. And that’s saying something for sure.

As the Paw Patrol’s pup who’s specialized in medicine, I'd like to say that this truck is literally a menace on wheels for both passengers and pedestrians. Have you seen the crash tests? The truck doesn’t crush when colliding with something! It’s supposed to crush so the force of impact won’t go fully on the passengers inside. Without it, if it hits against something full force at top speed, people’s organs will practically become puree against their ribcage. And if it hits a pedestrian, even at lower speeds, the chances of major injuries is insanely high because it doesn’t have any smooth lines on its frame to soften the impact against the person! Only sharp edges! It’s absolutely deadly!

It looks like something you'd see in an Atari game, of course there are people who would be a fan of it but that's a very small percentage of a specific public; as Marshall said, the very frame design makes it extremely dangerous; I absolutely DO NOT trust anything that's entirely dependant on a touchscreen to function, once the screen is out, you won't be able to do anything anymore; If you need to look away from the road for more than 5 seconds to do something on that tablet, it should be considered already a failure of programming and danger inducing; a lot of them came out of the factory with already rusty components so THAT SHOULD SAY SOMETHING; oh yeah, you can't even take it to a car wash or it'll come out a huge useless brick on the other side and if you can't wash it, you'd at least want to coat it but guess what, you can't do that either; a bunch of the panels are literally GLUED to the frame...?; every time you go recharge it you need to do it as correctly as possible to not risk the charger getting stuck and eventually breaking it; if you drive in the rain, water will leak in through the edges; you can't even haul stuff or help another car because you'll be risking to snap the back frame - it's not in one piece with the chassis, but connected by a sort of plastic piece to it...???? I swear I've seen Chase's cruiser hold and tow heavier stuff with its winch than what a Cybertruck can ever dream of doing; if anything happens to the back of this truck, you can kiss goodbye to its bed, even though it's not as big as they promised either; they basically made a fool of a lot of people by making them pay a lot more for a "Foundation Series" promising a full self driving feature that, as far as I know as of now, is still not available; the truck just has so many problems someone drove it out of the factory and not even two minutes later it bricked completely and has been at a repair shop ever since; the list goes on and on...

Some Tesla vehicles at least look good and have decent features, though they also have a lot more problems than they should, which could have been solved already by now, but they don't even try, all because the company owner is just... A bad person, let's put it like that. He's got a temper worse than Sweetie's, he thinks he's above everyone else and won't ever take a "no" or "don't". I've heard a lot of other EV companies are making better AND affordable EVs literally by looking at what's wrong with Tesla cars to not repeat the same errors on theirs.

Oh, and one last thing! This guy also went against regulation laws against hate speech in our Mod's country, which resulted on his social media website and app getting banned there. Not satisfied with that, he double-crossed the ban to make it available there again although totally illegally, by using the same IP servers that hospitals, public services and even the very Brazilian government websites use, so... Triple crime? Not gonna lie, it's funny to follow how it's going down there.

[loremaster]

CHAPTER 0: Stampede on the Amaterasu Express

(fitting that this should be posted on Zilch's birthday! EDIT: it was not in fact fitting because it was not in fact Zilch's birthday. whoever started posting Zilch stuff got me good T_T EDIT AGAIN: It WAS Zilch's birthday - the real one! I was right all along!)

Everything starts out pretty much the same.

A teeny little guy wakes up in a room full of umbrellas and is delighted to learn that his name is Yuma Kokohead. He catches his train at the last minute, but turns out there's an impostor in the room. Uh oh! Who could it be?

Aphex and Pucci use their Quirks Fortes to find out if there's anyone else aboard, and there isn't... but then Pucci hears something. Footsteps. Lots of footsteps, actually. Gaining speed on the Amaterasu Express. Yuma tries to look out a window, but there are none.* Tensions rise.

Aphex wants to head to the control room and stop the train. "So what if we don't know who's out there? I can take 'em!" Zilch disagrees. "You idiot! That's exactly what they want us to think. We're far safer in here. Do you want us to reach our destination alive or not?" Melami sides with Aphex. "This is too suspicious to ignore. I think we should see what the matter is. What if there's someone out there who needs our help? What if... it's a real fashion disaster?" Pucci agrees with Zilch. "If we keep the train running forward, we can wait to confront whatever's out there until the local law enforcement can help us... It's too loud to be any regular person..." Zange remains staunchly neutral. "We wouldn't even be having this discussion if this train had any windows! Damn Amaterasu, trying to show off this pointless automated technology... I bet this whole thing is a trap anyway!"

Meanwhile, Yuma is having an invisible crisis.

And then, from Yuma's perspective:

MYSTERY LABYRINTH TIME!!!!! Yuma explores the train cars with the detectives' belongings here in the ML instead of IRL. After gathering evidence, he is able to deduce that the many footsteps approaching the train are actually not humans, but a stampede of animals, presumably controlled by the real Zilch Alexander. He unmasks the hitman within the Labyrinth and they have a pose-off.

And the true culprit's soul is reaped in dazzling fashion!

But from the other detectives' perspectives...

Zilch literally just drops dead in the middle of an argument.

Melami: "Gasp! Aphex, you killed him!" Aphex: "What the--! I did not!! He fell forward!" Pucci: "...there's no heartbeat... He's... actually dead..." Zange: "That didn't look like heart failure to me." (sending the video footage to his phone)

Now with Aphex's rival out of the way, he, Melami, and Yuma can stop the train and finally see what awaits them outside!

Ohhh yeahhh, that's right. The hitman stole all of Zilch's clothes.

After Zilch strips a corpse and gets his clothes back, they are met at the station by Swank and the Peacekeepers, who are pissed that their boy is dead and also naked. Yakou intervenes as usual, and the whole crew goes to get boba!!!! Yayyyy!!!

*This post was written before I checked a screenshot of the game and realized the dining car DID have windows. Oops. So, either this AU there's no windows, or this is how it goes down instead:

I think even Shinigami could solve this one.

NEXT: PROLOGUE

[fvckw4d]

In the US we have many types of doctors offices. If you have insurance, there's a Primary Care Doctor, who can't treat anything that isn't a cold. Their job for most people, especially the chronically ill, is to run blood tests and refer you to a specialist. A specialist is a doctor who went to extra school so they could only solve one specific issue at a time and their wait lists are usually months long because most people don't go to their doctors for colds or anything else you can solve in 15 minutes - the typical amount of time each patient is alloted with their doctor before they become "problem patients" - because doctors are expensive, so they get referred out. These doctors might be next door from your PCP or they might be hours long drives away.

If you don't have insurance or dont have months to wait, there's a Urgent Care, which is an oxymoron because you will not be seen urgently, but more like between 1 and 8 hours depending on your luck. They mostly exist to bridge the gap of PCPs and ERs, to make sure you can be medically neglected no matter what day of the week it is.* They can't prescribe most medications and don't have most equipment that a specialist or ER has, or even that your PCP has, because their real purpose is to prevent the poor or inconveintly-timed sick from clogging up the ER. There are versions of these in some of the bigger pharmacy franchises because making a lot of money selling drugs means you're basically qualified to be a doctors office.

(*most doctors offices are closed on the weekends and before 5pm.)

The ER, or emergency room, is a last resort doctor. Anyone will tell you that, it's for dying people didn't you know, which is why wait times are typically 8 hours. Yes we all know that it's the only place thats open all hours of the day and every day of the week, or has equipment that most doctors dont, or is legally required to see you no matter how insured you are. But if you go there without an emergency, it's because you're selfish and stealing time away from literal dying people, which will be the excuse used whenever you receive subpar care no matter why you went there or who is talking to you. The ER is a really good place to be diagnosed with anxiety and drug addiction by a doctor who isn't a psychiatrist or addiction specialist, no matter what your symptoms are. ERs also cost 10x the amount a PCP or Urgent Care does, but there's not much they can do to make you pay the bill, so this is a common choice for the absolutely destitute.

If you are poor, especially if you have "specialized needs" because you are queer or not white or homeless or have limited transportation, you might go to a wellness center or walk in clinic or what have you. They have a lot of names, but they're basically the same thing. This is the only publically funded healthcare in the US and the only place that will give you free or sliding scale healthcare, one of the only places you can go without needing an appointment (if you are fortunate), and one of the only places that you get care for things like HIV prevention or birth control or HRT. They don't have most of the equipment of even an Urgent Care. Every doctor there is severely overworked and most secretly think you're a junkie. It's a good place to get diagnosed with being high.

If all of this sounds bad to you, you might consider having enough money enough to afford a concierge doctor, which is a pet doctor rich people buy. They work much like how family doctors used to work about 50+ years ago, meaning they are on call at all times and will treat you at home. They're known for being willing to write any prescription you want, no more having to beg and plead and prove you aren't going to abuse your pills and aren't just a little anxious, which is how it works for everyone else.

And that's pretty much it. So many options, right? Tune in next week to hear about the state of mental healthcare in the good ol' US of A.

[vikings-til-valhalla]

One of my best friends felt stupid for being a slow reader. Having been there multiple times myself, and battling those types of thoughts on a daily basis for my whole life as well, I decided to write this to her:

You're not alone in that... In school, my teachers would all constantly say, "You should be able to read one page per minute!" Or something like that, it may have been 1 page per 30 seconds for all I remember. But it took me, regardless of the size, regardless of the number of words, minimum 2 minutes per page, sometimes even more. Taking any test that was timed and required me to read, I was panicked knowing I'd never finish the text in time to answer the questions. And that was often the case. I felt like a failure, stupid, and it was reflected in test scores. I'd get the answers right! But I didn't have the time to finish them all, and that's where I got penalized. However, when I took an untimed test for literacy comprehension, I was told I had a college reading level while in middle school. I didn't believe them. I was literally failing English classes left and right. Then, for college, there was another untimed test for the same thing. I scored so high that they literally did not have classes that could challenge me, and just threw me into the hardest English course they had even though I was determined to not need it. I aced those courses for 2 years straight with A+ in both, because rather than focusing on how fast someone can read and answer questions, it focused on how well you understood the texts as a whole. My one professor gave me 105% because she was so impressed. So all that to basically say, regardless of how slow you read, no matter how many times you have to reread the text to understand it fully, as long as you understand it that's what matters, and shows how intelligent you are. Schools pressure you to be fast at everything because in the working world, time and money are one in the same. You have to cut corners and make the top dollar or else corporations see you as a failure. And what is traditional schooling in America but a pipeline to the working capitalism world??

I've met dyslexic people who published bestselling books. I've heard of authors who failed all of K-12 schooling and published well known books by the dozen. And I myself am a very slow reader who struggled all through school, failed most every class for being slow enough that I couldn't finish any tests, but I've been given untimed tests and proved to be highly intelligent in every subject, several languages, countless forms of comprehension, and I published 2 books by the age of 23.

But I am VERY slow at all of that. It takes me hours at a time to solve a small math problem. It takes me weeks to read a children's book. I usually have to hear something twice or more to understand it, unless I have subtitles to read so I can back up what my mind processes hearing, with something visual.

It doesn't matter how slow or fast you are. Intelligence is intelligence regardless. Capitalism just makes it seem like speed is the end all be all of everything, because if you're slow, you're not doing it right/well enough, and you're not making enough profit for anyone to value you.

What's important to remember is to value yourself and what you've accomplished, no matter how long you took to do it, how many tries it took to succeed, or who approves of the things you achieved besides yourself. Your best is good enough, you are good enough, and your worth is not determined by production quotas of any sort in any capacity. Worth is inherent, and also built upon at your own pace by accomplishing things within your personal scope.

[pinkvaquita]

Sooooo @thelittleblubie and @peppermintstarsonamintyway and anyone else that wanted to see this thing

I HAVE FINISHED :D

This shit is long, hold tight.

scrub. scrub. scrub.

The sound of the soap and the sponge was surprisingly loud for only being some simple cleaning objects. Maybe the silence was helping it, the only thing similar to noise filling that empty space was that alongside the grunts and irregular breathing. Or who knows, maybe the sound was only loud on Grape Ade’s head. Her attention was completely fixated on those gloves after all.

scrub. scrub. scrub.

yeah. That was the thing ringing in her ears right now, never stopping or slowing down. The foam and water was splashing everywhere, even making small puddles on the floor under the sink. And even if that made the red mess under her boots only bigger, her eyes didn’t even care to look down. But how could she? How could she even start to care about the problem going around her, if she couldn’t solve the one that was already (and literally) between her hands?

scrub. scrub. scrub.

“fuck…” She cursed in a whisper as she finally let go of the gloves. It wasn’t because of how much pain her knuckles felt from how hard she was gripping them, nor from the fact she erratically moved the sponge. It was because those stains refused to disappear.

scrub. scrub. scrub.

She already grabbed every soap, detergent, cleaning supply and even the fucking dishwasher. Sometimes the thought that letting it rest could help the situation crossed her mind, and she waited for what it felt like ages (which in reality was only two minutes if she was able to contain herself.) before returning to impulsively try once again.

scrub. scrub. scrub.

Yet it remained. Jam was surprisingly easy to spot in black cloth (it wasn’t). And it also was surprisingly difficult to get rid of. Could it be that destiny made it like that, so you couldn’t escape from the reasons it was there, even if you tried?

scrub. scrub. scrub.

Maybe this was the price to pay for what she did?

It felt already like enough torture dealing with cleaning some simple gloves. With the reddish water, the foam everywhere, the soap almost already dissolved on her hands. And Grape Ade was already going crazy by thinking how was she gonna manage with the rest of things she was supposed to do.

What was she gonna do? What was she gonna fucking do?

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.

“Please come off. Please. Please, fucking come off already.” Her voice was still in whispers that got mixed with all the other sounds. She didn’t realize how ridiculous she looked, as if begging to the nothing would help her get out of the consequences of her actions.

“Please.”

Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.

Begging and scrubbing. What an interesting combination of sounds that slipped through the door, leaking in direction to the hallways and dying there. Soft, yet loud enough to be caught by the curious ears of someone that was walking close by.

The sound of the door opening made her dough cold, almost hypothermic. She was really hoping it was just some breeze.

“Grape?”

That defenetly wasn't a fucking breeze.

• • •

Butter roll was slightly tired from staying more than he should in the lab, but his five senses were still functioning well and fast.

That was clear for him. If he were walking half-asleep to his dorm, he wouldn't have caught the distant sound of a distressed distant voice alongside of hands moving desperately in what he could only imagine was water.

That was… odd. If the clock he checked before heading out was correct, it was 2 AM. Why was someone washing clothes at this hour? And why did they sound so distressed and unsettled?

Maybe it is someone from the other Cookies of Darkness doing something for Dark Enchantress. Maybe it was that half-baked cookie planning something again. Or maybe the lack of sleep was finally getting to him. There were many reasons he should have just brushed it up and went to his dorm.

But he was a curious cookie. A curious man that couldn’t stop a nagging feeling on his chest that was telling him to go where the sound was coming.

He didn’t know what to expect as his steps led him closer to the laundry room. But it definitely wasn’t the picture he found when he slowly opened that door, adding unintentionally more tetricness to what anyone would catalog out of a horror movie or a true crime documentary.

“...Grape Ade?”

The biggest reason for that was Grape Ade cookie herself.

The way she was standing in the middle of crimson puddles. How the stains of jam were slightly visible on her clothes and even leaving the tips of her hair with the characteristic red color of that liquid.

When she turned to look at him (with the same expression a wet cat would have if it was caught by a dog in an alleyway), he also was able to see some drops were still on the corners of her face. Mostly on her right cheek, detail he didn’t catch at the instant he saw her thanks to being opposite to where he was standing.

“B-butter Roll…” The carbonated cookie said his name in a trembling whisper. While the feeling of freezing in panic quickly starts affecting her.

As her now also shaking hands dropped the soap and gloves in an instant, some half-thinked excuses started to escape from her. “I can explain it-, I swear. I can explain it!”

She couldn't. She didn't had any idea of how to explain this in a reasonable way. And seeing Butter roll walk closer to her didn't help at all in making something out of the mess her mind was.

His steps were firm even if he stepped on slippery floors thanks to the puddles. Surprising because his eyes looked at her and not a second down. Grape didn’t had a second to think about how impressive his balance and walking was because of how soon he was now standing in front of her. Taking a better look at her face and her despair filled eyes as he suddenly grabs her by the sides of her head and lifts off her face. A simple action that was only his way to study her emotions, but for her, it felt like she was judging her with every hatred a cookie as sweet as him could hide.

The tangled words and attempts to make an excuse didn’t stop at all, “I-, Butter roll I-”. It was so out of character to see her like this, with nothing to say to cover herself. He never thought he would see her in a state even similar to this. She was shaking, begging, stuttering…

“It was an accident, a f-fucking accident… I swear!”

The view of the first tears peeking from the corners of her eyes was enough to make Grape Ade start to crumble in his hands. And for him to take action.

Suddenly, a smell of buttery dough invades her nostrils. In one blink of an eye, he made a swift move and now got her closer to him, resting some of her weight on his chest. Yet her hands remain firm on her cheeks

“Shhh… Hey, don't cry… “ He softly says, his fingers slowly clean her tears as they fall, with a touch more careful that nothing she could think of. Not even in her dreams she could have guessed his hands, as much hard-work they endure, were going to be so soft.

The stuttering from Grape Ade stops, as same as the turmoil on her mind, the thousands of thoughts crying and going insane in worry about what is gonna be of her quiet down as soon as her face looks up at him. To his eyes that because of being always cheerful and full of optimism, were a thing that could captivate her in any circumstance. But seeing that now he was worried? For her? Showing the most tiny bit of worry to her alongside his “everything is going to be fine” attitude?

Oh, that was enough to make a soft sizzling and bubbling from her hair start to be heard. A signal for both of them that the beating of her heart was turning quicker and quicker. Signal that Grape Ade ignored this time out of being too mentally and emotionally overwhelmed. And Butter roll because he kept thinking that this woman was someone that blushed with the most simple things.

“It w-wasn't on purpose“ She said.

“it wasn't on purpose “ He assured, his voice was a whisper the same as hers

“I s-swear it wasn't on purpose… “.

Even if the tears no longer were coming out and left only sobs, his hands continued to caress her cheeks. Butter roll kept going his soft sushing words as he tried to calm down the emotional breakdown that she was going through.

For several minutes they stayed like this. Butter roll didn't care that she was getting jam on him, he even decided to hug her so she could ground herself with the warmth of his body. One hand going to her hair, slightly brushing it with his fingers. The other on her back, rubbing in circles since he supposed that would help her.

How could he be mad at her for some little stains? It wasn't the first time he had to wash something like this at all. Not to mention that even if he was worried about if she was hurt or too shocked to talk, a part of him couldn't stop thinking that if it wasn't for her scared expression her face with jam stains was a really… interesting view.

“You are a bit more calm now?” The softness in his voice was clear in the way he asked. As returned one hand again, to softly raise her face by the chin. Letting her nod to him.

He did the same gesture of nodding. And step back so Grape Ade could have her personal space again. The cold air hit her body more hard than usual, maybe because it was already missing being held by his strong arms.

A silence prevailed for some seconds. As he made in his mind a plan of what to do, Grape Ade nervously pulled a strand of her hair because of finally noticing she had been letting that bubbling sound exist during the whole hug.

“Go take a shower.” Butter roll finally said. As he looked down to his hand and finally noticed the little reddish spots on it left from holding her face.* “I think you need it.”

“...but what about-?”

“It's fine, I’m gonna help you.” He didn't even let her protest or stutter. His kindness was more strong than her nerves and he knew it.

Grape Ade took a deep breath. Knowing this too.

• • •

The shower indeed helped her have the final push to calm down . A warm shower at three in the morning was something she didn't expect to feel so comforting. It couldn't compared to how it felt to being hugged and consoled by the director, but she could call it a decent replacement.

Decent, but not good. A good one would have made her follow his advice and go to bed after that.

Or maybe not even a good one would have been enough. Butter roll himself told her to not worry about it when he accompanied her to her room, so he could take her jammy clothes and boots, and yet, there she was.

“Hey… “ She didn't try to hide as she entered the laundry room. Her voice wasn't as strong as how she naturally acts, but it was better than the last time he saw her.

And the laundry room also looked better. The disaster on the floor titles was gone, she correctly supposed Butter rollos took in his hands to also clean that mess from her.

“Hey, “ Butter roll turned to look at her, now in a clean lab coat. A gentle smile on his mouth as her presence seemed more calm, like he hoped to be.

She carefully walked close to him. Face down but not from shame, just checking how clean everything looks. From not so far she could hear a washing machine working.

“You sure are fast… How did you even manage to clean everything?”

“Oh you know. Experimenting sometimes is messy and things with similar results as this can happen.” His answer was calm. For him it wasn't weird admitting he has dealt with disasters like this one.

And for Grape, it wasn't that much weird at this point. After all, his knowledge about questionable stuff was something usual in him, and also helpful in this situstions.

“Honestly I wanted to teach you how to do this by yourself,” Butter roll said. As his mind remembered that he still didn't clean those gloves just for that idea.

But it was the middle of the night. And even if he could hold himself together a bit longer, he knew Grape Ade needed to sleep. She usually was already sleeping two hours ago, and missing that by too far made her cranky in the mornings. (No need to question why he knows the exact hour she goes to sleep.)

He didn't pointed out that he knew she was here because of being scared. Neither guilt her about it. “You think you are going to be able to sleep now?”

“I guess… Fuck, sorry, I should have listen to you.” She grumbled. The stress wearing down and the lack of rest was getting to her finally.

When she turned around to walk out, Butter roll stared to walk with her. Probably trying to make small talk and have an excuse to be closer to her one more minute. For the sake of ressuring her more, of course. “Is alright.”

“The first time is always scary after all”

[xmimi89er]

I MADE IT! It had been two days or so since the news, but I made it!

Goodness, I only had 42, if not less, time left and there was absolutely nothing. It was impossible to fix it, especially on a ridiculous amount of time. So, I prayed for a miracle. I asked for one because only a miracle could fix this—there was no way to get around it or over it and it just did not seem possible at all. AT ALL. But then, the miracle came!

A whole seven years worth of stress trying to get things together and fixed, it was done for in the matter of a press of a button. Or so I thought, for a little bit. You know when anger blinds you? Happiness did me, and I didn’t read what was sent to me that well that I forgot the last step in the whole thing.

And when did we realize that? Less than 16 hours (counting the night too) before I would have to sign up my leave.

And even crazier? I only had half an hour to get to the nearest machine before it closes to get my fingerprint done so I could get a digital ID. We reached the place and there was only a 20 minutes left. Logically, I could try to (maybe) wait until tomorrow very early in the morning, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like I was on a very short period of time, and I had to hurry.

So many things stopped us on our way, funnily enough, but we made it.

I managed to sign myself up before the system closes by an only six minutes to spare.

Regardless of all of that, and how mind-blowing things could be and how I felt like I was going to burst a vein in me, we made it. We stopped the people that are fucking cruel.

This isn’t over, and I supposedly, as they worded it, “ran away from home” despite the fact I am no minor (and will be coming back). Not to mention what those people would do when they realize I have stopped them. They might just have a stroke and die—they will get angry, and while they cannot hurt me, it will still be a struggle to live with such an environment until I get a job. But that doesn’t matter, not that much.

What matters is that the impossible-to-fix, the threat over my head, is over. I will still have to endure things, but the worst is over, and that fills me to continue even more than before.

Look how the tables have turned. Funnily enough, I have fought with them the night before, and they swore that I will never get my way because, supposedly, I am the cruel one here. But no. Consequences exist. You don’t have to believe in heaven and hell and all of that, but the fact that the world spins is real, and every action has consequences. I will happily watch them fall apart piece by piece and, while I would heavily prefer being somewhere else, I will wait.

I remember writing the chapter “(Please!) A Miracle” from My Baby and thinking that, oh Sunny, I am asking for one too. Hehe.

A seven years problem is solved. Things may backfire and things normally change and never stay the same, but it is over. It stops now at 28 October, and hopefully it will be completed over soon after that.

Thank you to everyone who stayed around to check on me. To those online and in real life. It literally feels like nearing the end of a drama series, and ya all were the viewers. Good to have come to an end and to announce it. It would still take a bit before it gets all better, but it is nearing its death. I have won the key and no one can take it, now all I have to do is unlock the chains. Ain’t that cliché? But I am a writer I CANNOT HELP IT HEHE.

Anyway. Thank you so much, and I will keep updating this series of a life of mine! Take care >:D

[writer-of-various]

ꜰᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ

War isn't simple, people aren't simple, nothing is simple. There's always hidden secrets, hidden feelings, hidden meanings, and hidden solutions.

[William Pierson/Robert Zussman]

Things couldn't be simple. War wasn't simple, and even if it started out simple, some dumbass would turn it into a puzzle only the smartest man in the world can solve, and that guy is dead. Zussman heard the stories about the Pacific Theater, he even had comrades and patients that fought some battles on land and sea and air, and how they thought Europe would be a better choice. Both theaters sucked and they couldn't wait for the war to end. Sometimes, though, Zussman doubted the war would end.

He may not know how many American men were being imprisoned by the enemy, but he knows the pain and the emotional rollercoaster all too well and when he was given a chance to be the medic on a top secret mission to liberate a prison camp on some small island no one knew about until yesterday, he signed up quicker than he did when the war started. He couldn't let another soul go through months of pain, of the fear of never being found or being forgotten or abandoned– because the lies that the enemy tells you seem to become real every passing day. They get under your skin, sometime literally with a dirty blade, and they sneer and cackle and are just fucking bullies. And Zussman hates bullies.

While his leadership were wary, especially since he's only five months off bedrest and the rumors of what he went through as a POW in Europe, he had an unexpected protector and louder voice that got him whatever he wanted. The relationship between him and Pierson got better, especially after that one night, and after being reunited Pierson rarely let him out of his sight. It's a partial reason why Pierson stayed in the Army, and vice versa with Zussman. He always wanted to be a real medic, not some assigned position in a platoon; so during his two months on bedrest, he studied and became certified and after those two months, Pierson swooped him in and took him as his second and his personal medic. The whole Army and the whole military simply stepped out of the way and let them, because you just have to give the Bloody First some lookaways with how they did a great job in Europe.

Speaking of Europe, no matter how hard it got, and no matter how many times things were far from simple, things got done efficiently. Here, in the Pacific...well your plan Z needs a backup and you just have to resort to numbering the plans.

They made it to the island in the darkness of midnight, undetected thankfully, but having a long and hazardous trip through jungle and mountains before they reached the camp. It's an estimated 32 hour walk that needs to be done before dawn. While some complained, Zussman knew he could handle himself well. Death marches were a common activity, especially since he had to switch from one camp to another to another. If hungry and near dropping dead soldiers can do the march, so can anyone else. It's midnight, leadership reasoned, it's a higher chance of being undetected.

How fucking wrong they were.

The Japs set up wire and traps and had scouts in the trees and bushes and they were ambushed 15 minutes into the mission. It was raining like hell and freezing cold from a storm crossing.

Zussman was targeted mainly, like they had a grudge against him, and a soldier ran over to his cover and pointed at his head and arm.

"Your medic insignia! Remove it, they go for you guys first!" The soldier yelled over the gunfire and Zussman quickly threw off his helmet and ripped the patch off his arm. No head protection, but it increases his chances of survival slightly since he won't be target number one. As if reading his thoughts, Pierson appears behind him suddenly and a heavy weight is put on his head, the metal cold and dripping wet. He turns his head to see Pierson giving him a firm look and he shakes his head, his features settling into a fierce glare.

"Take your helmet back, sir!" He shouts, about to remove the other man's equipment from his head when Pierson leans closer and grabs his wrist in a tight but not bruising grip, his eyes warning him to be quiet. Zussman takes it and pushes himself away from his...whatever their relationship was, and continues to shoot at the enemy that seems to keep coming and coming.

"Fuck!" A soldier yelps and Zussman watches as the man falls on his back, his hands trying to apply pressure to his abdomen. Zussman curses under his breath, laying completely on the muddy ground and dragging himself over to the soldier, trying to ignore the gunfire and the yells and the overall situation he was in. He had one focus and that was getting his boy out of this hell, alive.

His arms ache by the time he reaches the soldier but adrenaline is pumping through his body so he starts to drag the soldier to a better cover before performing his miracle. He grabs his kit and injects morphine into the soldier, getting the man to relax before grabbing his tool kit and getting to work.

"Cover me!" He shouts, and he feels Pierson's presence beside him as their guys advance forward, suddenly gaining an advantage as the enemy begins to fall back.

"I-is it bad, doc?" The soldier mumbles shakily, trying to give a smile but it comes out a wince and Zussman gives the soldier the best fake grin he can muster up. The wound won't stop bleeding and he only has limited supplies.

"You're going to be fine, Haddon. Pierson, put your hands over his wound like this." He guides the older man in the task and when he deems it good enough, he takes off his equipment before removing his blouse, ripping a strip off and using it as a bigger gauze to help stop the bleeding. The weather is both cold and mucky, an unpleasant feeling, the sweat coating his body cold and his gut churning he feels like he is going to pass out. His heart beats echoed in his ears and it threatened to beat out of his chest, but his hands never once shook and his demeanor never once faltered. The soldier is stable for now and Zussman wraps his blouse around his waist and puts his equipment back on before rejoining the fight. They advance forward with ease, and Zussman nudges Pierson and shakes his head.

"Somethin' isn't right. Why the hell are they running away?"

Pierson looks conflicted and he squints into the darkness, his breath held as he holds up a hand, halting everyone's movement. It was silent, just the sound of heavy rainfall and the clashing of trees from the gust.

"Watch your backs, they know this terrain better than we do. Advance slowly." Pierson orders and everyone nods, forming pairs that watch the front and back. Zussman inspected everything they walked by, trying to will his paranoia down whenever he thought a shadow moved or there were eyes glinting at him. He glances down at the ground, and it suddenly felt like slow motion when he sees something shining on the floor, right in front of a soldier, and he held up his hand and his mouth fell open but it was too late. A loud explosion rang in their ears, and the soldiers flinched and stood still, heads ducked down, faced away from the horrid scene Zussman was forced to watch with wide eyes.

Blood mixed with rain, body parts shattered and chopped up and torn apart and flying in different directions. The soldier, a young man, only 23 years old, a fine Marine. Jason Gilberts.

"Shit– Zussman!" He can hear Pierson shouting his name but it sounded muffled. He can feel Pierson trying to shake him out of this fucked up trance but the effort wasn't enough. He stood there, jaw dropped and eyes wide, his face splattered with blood since he was the only one not to duck, and he was the one to see the whole ordeal. He would have to report it, he would have to recall every single nanosecond. He walked forward, passing his men as he looked at the ground and the tree branches and he couldn't muster up the feeling to be sick. Shock hit him like a train as he bent down to pick up a bloody piece of clothing and he heard someone gag behind him.

"Zussman," Pierson called out, and the younger man forced himself to drop the piece of wet and sticky cloth and back away, putting on an empty expression to hide the whirlpool of emotions he felt. He returned to his place right beside Pierson and nodded, gun trained as he remained silent. He made a silent vow to come back and collect the remains of the soldier.

"Let's get this mission over with." He mutters and Pierson nods and gives the command. They march forward again, Pierson trying to look ahead but his gaze always ends back on Zussman, concerned for the younger man. But this is war, and nothing is simple.

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the brigadier general gawked at the bloody mess of what are his soldiers, their uniforms not even distinctive, blood and grim coated their faces, and they were beyond exhausted. "You boys are heroes. Saved those guys, got back an hour before dawn."

"Save us the praise, Kendal." Pierson spats, and the general nods and backs away, letting the soldiers walk past so they can go clean up, eat, and get some much needed sleep.

"Sir, we need to send a team back. We have one KIA; Corporal Jason Gilberts." Zussman speaks for the first time in all those horrific hours and Pierson gives him a look before watching the general's reaction.

"No can do, kid, our mission was to get our boys and leave that island for good. We got our boys, we left the island, that's a mission complete." Kendal says and Zussman scoffs, throwing Pierson's helmet down on the ground before Kendal's feet.

"Respectfully, fuck you." He growls, storming off. Pierson glares at the general one more time, a final threat, before following his second in command, grimacing at the bloody footprints they left behind. He barely gets through the door in time before it would have slammed right in his face, shutting it gently and watching with furrowed brows as Zussman behaved like a tornado. He ripped the sheets of his bed, he kicked the nightstand and flung books and clothes and an extra pair of boots; he got his hands on anything he can destroy. When he made a move to slam his gun against the window, Pierson rushed over and grabbed his wrists, dragging him away from the glass.

"Hey– hey, calm the fuck down, Robert. You can break anything else, just not this." Zussman slid himself out of Pierson's stronghold and glared up at him, although the tears brimming against his burning eyelids were so obvious that he couldn't keep up the strong stare.

"Why aren't they sending a team to retrieve that guy? Gilberts, he was only 23 years old! He didn't deserve any of this. Will, it's not fair." Zussman whispers at last, and Pierson sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Rob, I know. But I didn't exactly follow orders when I went to look for you. None of us did, they disobeyed orders to look for you, to save you. And it sucks now, Robert, because we are already on a thin fucking edge with our superiors. We can't go back, and it's going to hurt you more than it hurts any of us. I'm sorry." Almost three months ago, no one would expect such kindness and sympathy from William Pierson, but his and Zussman's relationship was different. They were different. And right now, his best man needed him. So he embraced Zussman tightly and let the younger man sob into his chest, because war wasn't easy or fair or simple. It just wasn't.

—

The end of war called for celebration, but the way war ends affects that celebration. Should people really be hugging and kissing and drinking, when a new and dangerous weapon was dropped on a mainly civilian island that belonged to a country that put another country into war? Or, was it worth another year or five or twenty, and the millions and millions of lives of American soldiers, to island hop and pray for the best?

Maybe it was neither, maybe there was a better way to solve this far from simple puzzle. But that smart guy that can solve the puzzle is dead and the governments of the world are tired and just want the violence to end. By promoting more violence? Yes. But at what cost? Saving the lives of every person out there, regardless if they are American or Japanese or some hidden Native population that is thrown into the mix just for fucking kicks. Who fucking cares. World War II is over, and while everyone is out celebrating or crying, Zussman locked himself in his room of his brand new fucking home that Pierson decided to buy after having a near mental breakdown.

But soldiers (men) don't get shellshock, they don't get emotional, they shouldn't be so upset about the war ending.

Fuck you. Men had to see their buddies be murdered in the most horrific way. Men had to be thrown in labor camps or prisoner of war camps, and had to face atrocities that the enemy inflicted because they couldn't give two shits about the Geneva Conventions. Men were forced to do unspeakable acts because war is all about men and...

"Man, fuck this." Zussman mutters, tossing his pen aside and rubbing his hands against his face aggressively, the tears that so desperately wanted to fall refusing to. He couldn't cry. He couldn't celebrate. He couldn't let go of what happened to him. War was far from simple, and he was once a simple boy, barely a man. The things he had to see, the things he had to do, it fucked him up. And no matter how much Daniels writes to him, no matter how much Stiles or hell even Aiello tries to arrange a get together, Zussman doesn't want to. Sometimes all he can see are the faces of the guys he was supposed to save, his brothers, and how that human light in their eyes would be snuffed out so quickly it left him paranoid for days. A loud noise, such as a door slamming shut, left him jumping up and trying to locate his rifle. Someone accidentally brushing up against him had him reeling back and wanting to curl up in a ball and die. He unconsciously rationed his food and water, and his belongings were all sacred items that he would get defensive whenever Pierson would touch one of his shoes or a shirt. He was losing it and there seemed to be no one that could help and it was unfair.

With a defeated sigh, Zussman slammed his journal shut and hid it under the floorboard under his nightstand. He decides to leave the comfort of his room and walks down the small hallway of this house that would take a while to be called a home. Zussman never had a real home, he and his mom always had to jump from apartment to room to house, and sometimes the streets. He missed his mom dearly, a beautiful and smart woman who did everything she could to protect him. Someone who died too young and someone he lost way too young.

"Glad to see you moving about. Staying locked up in there isn't the way to go, Robert." Pierson's voice knocks him out of his thoughts and he can't help but smile at the older man, because God, who would have thought that they would have a romantic relationship together, nonetheless live together. Maybe all of the good things in his life are dreams and he's going to wake up and be sleeping in a frozen trench, with Aiello to his left and Daniels snuggling close to his right.

"Such wise words from an amazing first lieutenant." Zussman smirks at the rank and Pierson gives him a pointed look, although there is a gleam of pride in his eyes. Finally Pierson got the recognition he needed. Maybe Zussman did too when they gave him the rank of First Sergeant before he left. "What are you cooking?"

"Dinner, but it's burned and going to taste like shit. Nothing new, right?" Pierson throws him that charming smile, his lips quirked up on one side and his eyes darkening in a teasing manner that made Zussman melt.

"Sounds like good ol' trench food. Remember that time Stiles tripped and all his food fell over you?" Zussman leans against the kitchen counter as Pierson gives out an exasperated sigh.

"Yeah, damn kid was fucking clumsy."

Zussman chuckled, "That's the most scared I've seen that boy be. Turner had to swoop in and make sure you didn't punch him." He looks away at the mention of his second most favorite deceased person in the world.

Pierson deflated the slightest, but upon noticing the faraway look in Zussman's eyes, he straightened his posture and tried to think of something else to say. He's lost and about to say the most random shit he can muster when Zussman looks back at him and smiles. The smile is reserved for him and him alone, it's like staring into heaven with how bright it is, or eating a chocolate in the summer with how warm it is, or how it would feel like to be on a cloud with how soft it is. It's perfect in the eyes of Pierson.

"Maybe tonight...we can...you know." Zussman blushes furiously at his sudden lack of confidence, but ever since that one night a year ago, he and Pierson never engaged in sexual activity. Kissing or intense late night make out sessions didn't count, and Zussman was scared that the longer he put off sex, the sooner Pierson was going to give up on him and leave. He wouldn't be able to handle Pierson leaving, it would hurt him more that the butt of a gun slamming against his temple or the intrusive way–

"Yeah, I'll love that." Pierson smiles at him and Zussman shakes away those thoughts because while it's going to be scary to have sex with someone who is caring and gentle and knows he has the consent of the other person, old memories keep bubbling up and he's worried he won't be able to handle it. He has to though, for Pierson.

"Do you wanna head out to that diner? This food is just going to kill the mood," Pierson grimaces to make a point and Zussman laughs, leaning close to peck his lover on the cheek.

"Sure. You're paying though." He quickly walks away before Pierson can complain, but it would have been playful banter. Pierson loved to spoil his strong little soldier.

—

Dinner was amazing, and despite being in such a cozy place with strangers and loud noises, Zussman had fun. It felt nice to eat out and just be out of the house, and when he and Pierson raced each other to the house, he felt free. Once the door shut, Zussman was already on top of Pierson, their lips slamming against one another's in a beautiful rhythm. Pierson ran his large and calloused hands down Zussman's waist and hips and cupped at his ass, pulling him impossibly closer and grinding against his front with ferocious want.

"Bedroom? Or are we still barbarians?" Zussman says teasingly and Pierson gives the kitchen table a good look before shaking his head, nuzzling his face against the pale column of Zussman's neck and biting at the soft skin there.

"I'll just break it. Bedroom is the safer option, babe." He growls out, picking up Zussman and carrying him to their room. Zussman moans softly at that, kissing Pierson's neck and purposely rubbing his cheek against Pierson's stubble, loving the feeling of it.

"So confident, huh? You better do some heavy work, sir" Zussman whispers hotly against Pierson's ear and he has to suppress a noise of surprise when he's thrown on the bed, his lover immediately crawling on top of him and pinning him down with one strong hand. The other hand got to work ripping the button off his shirt and tearing his trousers off, the cool air sending thousands of little goosebumps spreading across his naked skin.

"It's only you that can make that title sound so dirty yet so innocent." Pierson says as he strips Zussman naked, finally letting go of his wrists so he can undress himself. Zussman smirks and places his hands on the buckle of Pierson's belt, tugging at it teasingly as he slowly starts to go on his knees. He leans up and nibbles lightly on Pierson's earlobe, letting his hands swiftly remove the belt and start getting the other man's trousers off.

"I don't want to think about anything else, baby. I want you to make me forget. I don't even want to walk." Zussman hisses into his ear and that's all the reassurance Pierson needs to slam him right back on the bed and capture his lips in a rough, dominating way. Zussman gasps into the kiss when he feels a finger caressing his hole, his legs defensively bending to push Pierson away and the older man pauses, looking down at him with concern. Zussman forces a smile, letting his shaky legs fall back down and leaning up to kiss Pierson again, tapping his arm to communicate silently. He doesn't trust his words right now, but he wants this. He doesn't want to remember anything else but him and Pierson.

The finger returns and it slowly presses into him, his jaw immediately dropping as a near silent whimper escapes him from the intrusion, the pain stinging him and he's about to jump away when Pierson leans down and sucks on his nipples. Pleasure and pain start to mingle together and the pain becomes a good kind of pain. It leaves Zussman wanting more and he rolls his hips, getting the finger to slip in deeper and deeper.

"Fuck," Pierson growls against his left pec, hickeys left along his wake as he tries to control his libido but holy shit was Zussman hot and tight and practically begging for him. He slips in his middle finger and Zussman moans loudly, a hand almost as quickly reaching up to slap over his mouth. His whole body starts to redden as he freezes up and Pierson chuckles, gently easing the hand away and kissing Zussman softly.

"Be loud, Rob. I need you to be loud." Zussman relaxes at this and nods, his body finally succumbing to the pleasure as Pierson works him open, adding a third finger for good measure. It's not long before the older man slides his fingers out and grabs his impressive erection, about to spit when Zussman hurriedly goes on his knees and guides Pierson further onto the bed, laying him down and crawling on top of him. Pierson lets him, watching with hungry, dark eyes as Zussman lowers his mouth on the standing erection, his hot breath making the older vet shiver and clutch at the thin sheets beneath him. Zussman licks at the head, lathering around the precum dribbling out as he uses his right hand to cup around Pierson's balls, caressing them with his thumb as he licks lower and lower, kissing the sac before licking up and taking half of the hard dick in his mouth. Pierson lets out a breathy moan, grabbing Zussman's hair instead and gently tugging at the short curly strands.

"You're so good at this, baby, taking me so perfectly. This is what you're good for, huh?" Pierson speaks in a lower tone and Zussman moans around his cock, taking more of it in his mouth as he deep throats it, loving how it felt against the walls of his throat. Anyone else would have him freaking out, but he knows Pierson. He loves Pierson and he trusts that he would never hurt him.

Pierson touches anywhere he can on Zussman's body, taking in the soft skin with battle scars that were either soft or hard, the younger man's skin working miracles in preserving as much of Zussman's youth as it can. He reaches as low as he can to grab at his nice ass and leave his other hand pressing into his wide hip, intending on leaving his mark.

Zussman finally lets the dick slide out of his mouth as he gets some much needed hair, drool trailing down his chin as his eyes are half lidded and dark with want and lust and Pierson lays him down and goes back to his original position on top of him.

"You still want this, Robbie?" Pierson lets the endearing nickname slip and Zussman smiles softly at it, nodding his head. "I need words, sweetheart."

"Yes, Will. Please." Zussman whispers and Pierson nods, getting himself positioned right at Zussman's entrance and after one more silent confirmation, he presses the head in and they both moan together in a beautiful melody. He presses in more and more and it's a while until he's buried at the hilt, grunting at how tight his lover is and he needs more of it. He wants to chase it and cherish it.

"You can move, Will." Zussman mumbles, already feeling so full and so close, his hand jerking himself off as he peers up at Pierson and the older man loses control. He slides out before slamming right back in and Zussman yelps, noises becoming stuck in his throat as Pierson fucks him like an animal. The pleasure is suffocating him, it's making his eyes roll back and his toes curl and clench and it's making his stomach feel warm and hot and tight. He comes without a second thought, shivering when Pierson encloses his hand around his and pumps his cock, getting every last bit of his cum out. It's dirty and hot and crazy and both vets cannot get enough of it.

"Fuck, getting close–" Pierson growls, sliding out and moaning lowly as the nice tight warmth disappears. Zussman makes a choked noise of confusion, his eyes widening when Pierson lifts him up and sets him on top of him once he lays down. "Ride me."

Zussman's face goes a bright red as he stutters, "W-what?"

"That was an order, First Sergeant. Ride me, now." Is all Pierson spats out and Zussman is fucking lying if he said that commanding voice didn't turn him on. But he's a cheeky, sly bastard and he leans down, looking at his lover through his eyelashes and he whispers the words innocently, but the tone underneath was far from innocent.

"Yes Lieutenant Pierson." He slid down completely on Pierson's dick once the rank left his mouth and the hands that grasped at his hips made him smirk and lean up, placing his hands flat down on the hard chest and steadying himself as he started to bounce up and down. Pierson throws his head back and moans, watching Zussman fuck himself on his dick making him inch closer to the edge. He holds the younger male by his hips, thrusting his own to meet the steady yet fast pace Zussman is picking up on, and soon he's a full on animal in heat, pleasuring himself so beautifully as he throws his head back and moans like a whore. Pierson's dick hitting his sweet little bundle of pleasure shocking nerves is getting him drunk, he needs that sweet feeling and he chases after it, his legs shaking and turning to jelly when he comes again. His walls clenched tight around Pierson and the man below comes in him with a moan, catching Zussman when he almost topples over to his side. They lay together in comfortable silence, catching their breaths as they try to think of what to say or what to do. Zussman's coming down from a sex high mind speaks first.

"I love you, Will." He says it with so much emotion it almost hurts and Pierson smiles, that smile that Zussman found so endearing and gorgeous.

"I love you too, Robbie. Get some sleep, okay?" It's not meant to be an order, but Zussman follows it like it was one. He cuddles close to his lover's chest and melts when Pierson throws a blanket over them and wraps his strong arms around him, protecting him.

Nothing is simple. They were far from simple.

But that's okay, because if things were simple, Zussman would have never found true happiness.

[prettynhot]

let me tell you some verry exciting things that happened in monday that i couldn’t tell because of my assignments:)

i dressed a bit provocative that day, with business casual pants which hug my body quite tightly and emphasize my curve (especially for the lower part of my body) and a white collared top which also hugs my body very well and is a bit cropped. i even wore a push up bra with it to emphasize my figure lmao. im skinny curvy body type and its a desired type of body where i live so even when i was walking down the streets i could tell the outfit gets good attention, judging by the literal strangers staring at me in awe😭 i actually dont think im so otherworldly pretty but you know some days you just look extraordinarily good? i was having one of those days.

anyway i was a bit late, so he had already started the class when i actually arrived. since i came in late i knocked and walked in, literally everybody went silent and stared at me to admire, EVEN HE STOPPED MID SENTENCE AND LOOKED AT ME LIKE 😯 for a second then he asked why i was late and stuff. then we moved on with the class but this man literally could not take his eyes off of me?? he kept teaching the class with eyes locked on me. and i dont know if it was about me or just random but he had a boner after a few minutes i came in😭 and he gave me soo much attention by teasing me,chatting with me. and he even got playing cards from one of my friends to show me a “magic trick”😭 but guys, there were so many girls by him saying “do me one too” and stuff but he came in front of me, sat down and showed me many tricks😭he got literally so proud of himself every time i actually got shocked lmao. then when he was done with the “magic tricks” he was showing me, he left the classroom saying goodbye to everyone.

as the day went on i came by him solving one of my friends questions and i decided to sit with them. he was solving the exam questions for my friend to do better next time. while he was solving them for my friend, i was also recommending ways he could solve the questions which he was also teasing me with and we both were kind of play-fighting on the solutions. then i actually got mad at something he said so i started to completely ignore him and not talk with him while we were there with other students😭he really didn’t like that and he apologized to me in front of everyone so that we could go on our little chat. and i obviously got normal and forgave him after. but the man that he is, he just doesnt know where the teasing ends so i got mad again,i walked up and walked away. while i was walking away he kept repeating “ elle come back, that was the last time i promise, elle do come back i was just joking” like OMG and for context this man is like ice cold to everyone all the time. so i was actually VERY shocked but i kept walking away and sat somewhere else. not even 5 mins go by and he sends a student to get me to sit with him????😭???? excuse-moi???? very flattered obviously i did go with the student and sat with him. once i got up again after that but not to actually go, just to fix my outfit, he immediately went “don’t go, stay with us” I WAS LIKE😳 “okay” and sat back down.

everything was all amazing, some little things also happened but honestly this would take pages if i were tp actually tell them, so thats all for now:)))

[thornswoggled]

Hello! I wanted to share some thoughts and questions and honestly this probably will be really jumbled up but here we go!, okay so I’ve been thinking (wanting) Chise can obviously Do sleeping magic as Angelica had said in one chapter were chises Magic and her Special technique will be more towards sleeping as we know. Which led me to thinking what if Chise sings another song? Not a lullaby maybe her own song Were she accidentally sings someone to sleep and if that happens will she do it Out in a fit if anger finally? What if Her dragon curse (a death curse) triggers in her song and it turns into kinda like a Song of death?,And not just that but what if a type of event happens for example Something goes on With the college maybe it involea that new mage that showed up or something else entirely. As we know Elias does favors and solve problems for the church. and mages will keep there word involving deals and promises and doing tasks for something in return. So I was thinking Elias does something for the college for something in return and it Involves an event. Elias goes to the event and maybe it’s an event only for Mages or entity’s and creatures and Faye so Elias can go. But what if chise comes along as a plus one? Or instead she ends up coming along because. Hold on let me finish that thought in a minute. As we know in the college arc There’s the Houses the sargant house and obviously these are known as the Seven Shields so what if Chise ends up going along to this event with the St. George’s and Elias doesn’t know? What if Elias informs chise he’s going to be out on business you know and he’ll be back in 3 days or something. And Maybe prior It’s brought up that Chise does sing and so maybe this event loses there lead singer or something goes wrong and there’s a spot a performer is supposed to fill. So somehow chise stands on the stage and she sings you know? Elias is there and he’s dumbfounded or something but imagine she’s Singing her sing infront of a bunch of Faye and maybe even that new mage from the latest chapter is there. And chise is now just exposed Maybe her voice is leaking mana and projecting some sort of spell and maybe she gets stage fright and Her dragon curse leaks through you know, her eyes change color and again she’s exposed Faye’s are drooling over her Sleigh Veganess and it’s this whole thing? And maybe Joseph’s Joins Elias (he probably wants out of his Well or something and maybe he knows about the event maybe it’s yearly and he’s been then before maybe he has more of status after all In one of the episodes specifically the graveyard one he says that parts and martial are hard to come by and expensive so that instigates he’s been in the black market and maybe is well known in some fashion) anyway I’m just really wanting and curious to see chise Singing and putting herself in danger in some fashion but i don’t want her singing some sort of Lamb Lullaby about 16272 sheep and NO! I need something more and again with Elias literally not knowing chises taste in music, this will make his curiosity peak and he’ll be like so stiff his red Beaty eyes watching her perform it something. My mind has short circuited so many times typing this it’s probably so all over the place and my thoughts become unfinished leading on to more and more thoughts about tamb. Oh wait I just had this whole Arc idea and speculations about tamb. I’ll come back later

wow you could probably get a pretty lengthy fic out of that idea!

as for why we've never seen chise sing again, i think shes justifiably afraid of messing someone up again - potentially harming elias and being without his guidance for several days seems to have shaken her a little. but also shes still very new to magic, and hasnt found her niche yet... theres her singing, but theres also this depiction of her magic taking the form of plants/vines, and on top of all that she also has a dragons curse so that comes with its own stank. and on TOP of THAT, there are also people who say things like "chise would probably excel at xyz magic if she was taught properly." all of this is to say she has her fingers in a lot of pots. personally i will be fine if we never see her sing again because i get secondhand embarrassment when people sing in fiction... but thats my own hangup

can someone please get chise a ticket to warped tour. oh, well, wait, that was only a north american thing.... can someone please get chise a ticket to wacken open air. she could do a death growl if you let her. i know this

[visorforavisor]

so, the press release for series (we don’t call them seasons my side of the Atlantic) sixteen of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia says Dee “fights for […] women’s athletics”, and FX have said this series is going to “rip into the headlines” and that “a few figures from the past rear their heads”.

so. theory time. prediction time.

Carmen’s back?

what is constantly in the news at the minute (especially in the States), supposedly threatening women’s athletics? trans athletes! I can’t think of anything else, except for the occasional claim that athletes are, ahem, artificially improving their performances, but that’s hardly specific to women’s athletics. the only thing I can think of for this to mean is that Dee wants trans women out of women’s sports. (there might be other things. I just can’t think of them.)

Carmen, of course, is the trans woman whom Mac on-and-off dates for a while early in the show and is generally super rude to, and for whom Dee carries a surrogate pregnancy. (figure from the past.)

my prediction is that Dee and Carmen (or just, you know, some generic trans woman, but it’s way better if it’s Carmen, for reasons I’ll touch on later) are competing in the same athletic event, and Carmen does better than Dee. Dee subsequently wants Carmen eliminated from said event because she’s convinced she, Dee, deserved Carmen’s spot.

of course, we the audience know Carmen’s just… a good sportsperson (series six episode one, Mac Fights Gay Marriage: she is multiple times found working out very hard at the gym), and Dee isn’t particularly, and Dee doing worse than Carmen in a sporting event would be far more down to this than at all to do with Dee being cis and Carmen being trans.

but Dee really, really strikes me as the sort of pseudo-feminist to support trans people (series thirteen episode six, The Gang Solves the Bathroom Problem: she says she’d have no problem sharing a bathroom with a trans woman)… until certain things happen. like doing worse in a sports competition than one. conditional support, right? conditional acceptance? she’d be a really, really good character to represent people who only support the trans rights that are totally and completely convenient to them already.

Dee is repeatedly shown as the type of supposed feminist who actually is only in favour of women like her (White, rich, yadda yadda yadda) and not intersectional rights (series six episode five, Mac and Charlie: White Trash: her support of marginalised people does not extend to working-class people in the cheaper pool; series thirteen episode six, The Gang Solves the Bathroom Problem: she thinks she’s a trans ally but still refers to intersex people as hermaphrodites; series eleven episode nine, The Gang Goes to Hell: Part 1: she’s so non-compassionate to female survivors of assault that she’s willing to pretend to be this in order to coerce consent from men, which is assault; series thirteen episode four, Time’s Up for the Gang: it’s revealed that she assaulted a member of the Gang; series seven episode one, Frank’s Pretty Woman: she’s rude about sex workers).

I expect this type of behaviour includes trans people too.

I have good faith that, if they did do this plot, the show would take Carmen’s side. this is not least because they’ve taken her side literally every time she’s appeared in an episode before, but also because Sunny likes to subvert expectations and I think taking the side of the transphobes would be too obvious for them. they’d want to go against what all of the headlines are saying. they’re pretty good (in general) at not punching down.

I hope this is what that plotline turns out to be, because there are so many things I’d love to see in it. Mac interacting with Carmen again, post-coming-out? could be so fascinating! so many ways that conversation could go! I also think Mac would be pretty likely to try and take the other side to Dee on this and be trans-supportive as he likes to be the righteous one on matters where he can play the gay card (series thirteen episode six, The Gang Solves the Bathroom Problem: he insists he as a gay man deserves a special bathroom, as well as correcting the Gang on terminology for intersex people), despite the clear hypocrisy here because in previous encounters with Carmen he’s been pretty nasty about her being trans. (however, in The Gang Solves the Bathroom Problem, I really love the detail that he talks about trans people while Dennis and Dee talk about transgender people. such a tiny thing that shows Mac has been spending time in the queer community.) I’d also be very interested to see where Dennis, Charlie, and Frank stand on it. (my guesses are that Dennis would probably go against Dee just because, Frank would be very antiquated about the whole thing leading to Mac having to exasperatedly explain it to him, and Charlie honestly wouldn’t give a shit.) I also just miss my girl Carmen! give Mac some queer friends!

as a side note, I (a trans person) actually really love Carmen’s portrayal throughout the show. Mac Fights Gay Marriage is often misinterpreted as calling Mac gay for being with Carmen, but in reality the Gang say this because it’s so completely not true that this would make him gay (he wasn’t being implied as such yet really), in order to point out how nonsensical it is for Mac to call Carmen’s husband gay. it’s a sort of “well, by your absolute bullshit logic, that would make you gay too, dumbass” thing. the only two minor gripes I have are Carmen being played by a cis actor (I totally forgive them; it wasn’t widely known in 2005 that you should use trans performers for trans roles, plus it’s a cis woman rather than a cis man) and her total lack of reaction to being called a certain slur so often (not that I think the Gang wouldn’t use it, more that this pulls me out of the reality, but McElhenney, Day, and Howerton have said they didn’t know this was a slur, so that explains that). Carmen is consistently defended by the plot and writing, and people like Mac are made to look horrific in the way they treat her. I’ll write a whole thing about it one day, probably. I love her. I just love how nice she is.

anyway. this got so long and rambly, but I hadn’t seen anyone else with this theory so I thought I’d post it!

edits: fixed something I mistyped. also, someone pointed out this could be the bowling pictures we’ve seen, which would make total sense!