#or anything like that. growing up

[moomeecore]

Hey guys. So I know we've all gotten some very bad news, and anyone with a conscience is deeply upset. But one of the things this means is that the situation in Palestine is even more urgent, because we know that while Kamala might have, Trump isn't going to listen to any calls to lessen America's support of violence in Palestine. So, I'm putting out my next fundraiser post a bit earlier than expected - I really, really encourage you all to read these and try to match at least one of my donations, and reblog if you can't. I wish you all the best.

Waleed Ayman Alanqar and family - vetted (#107) - The fundraiser is for Waleed, his wife Areej Haniyyeh, and their 3 year old son, Ayman. They were forced from their home almost a year ago. The fundraiser is to help them raise the money needed for the family of 3 to evacuate to Egypt. They have €1,606 raised of their €20,000 goal - only 8%! - so I'm donating a little more than the usual €5 (€7). Waleed's tumblr account is @ayman-waleed, if you want more info.

Alaa and family - vetted - Alaa and her husband were displaced from their home on October 7, while Alaa was pregnant. Alaa's husband died before their daughter was even born, and now Alaa is raising her baby without him, after having to give birth without the needed medical care. Because of the poor conditions, her daughter has been suffering from illness, including a viral stomach infection and histolytica worms. Alaa needs to pay for her daughter's medical treatments, and for milk and diapers which are very expensive in Palestine right now. They have $14,280 raised out of their $30,000 goal. Alaa's account(s), for more information: @alaa-gaza / @alaa-gaza223

Wafaa Abdul Karim Abu Al-Rish and family - vetted / vetted - The fundraiser is for Wafaa (@wafaaresh3) and her family, which includes her mother, her brother Mohi (@mohiy-gaza), her sister Fidaa (@fidaa-family2), and Fidaa's two children (Sila, who is two years old, and Mohamed, who is 6 months old). They also have a cat. They have been displaced more than 10 times. Wafaa's mother has chronic illness (hypertension), and is unable to access her medicine, which means her health is getting increasingly worse over time. The main goal of the fundraiser is to help the family evacuate to Egypt. Wafaa's fundraiser has $74,018 raised out of her $85,000 goal.

I'm going to post a second part with three more fundraisers soon!

Here's my previous fundraiser posts: Post 1, post 2, post 3

[ivytea]

raspberry tortoise tea

[rongzhi]

Sex ed from a douyin account

English added by me :)

[artsekey]

Thinking about the time I lost a game of Overwatch and I was so mad about it that I genuinely considered getting into shit with the other team in chat and then realized that it was a colossal waste of my living breathing Human Time and uninstalled Overwatch instead because it was only making me angry.

And then thought about the OTHER time when I was on TikTok and realized I was Not Enjoying Myself and was, in fact, seeing so many sad videos and fake influencer ads that I felt Truly Despondent and then just…Deleted it.

Imo I want my social media /general media experience to be a pleasant break from real world and I get to decide what I get to cull to make that a reality for myself. I highly reccomended it! Life has improved considerably!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Maybe we never had a chance.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nocek]

Wade doesn't realize how very, very, VERY task oriented Miguel is (and absolutely not jealous about Logan's claws size) ;P

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 7/?

I'm so sorry for the delay. I struggled...

_________________________________________

"Jazz?" Blaster calls just loud enough for his mer to hear him. Now that the initial meeting was over, he wanted to take advantage of the break. 

While understanding that the human was calling him over, Jazz was a bit hesitant that moving might start up the whole confrontation again. He glanced over to the other orca still floating a little ways away, •၊||၊၊၊ had his eyes closed and it looked like he was focused on dealing with the repercussions of his actions. His expression was twisted lightly in a restrained grimace with his right arm holding his side.  

Slowly Jazz pushed himself further away, before turning over and swimming to the pier.  

"Are you okay?" Blaster asked as he knelt at the edge. 

With an uneasy look, he shamefully admitted, "it could have gone better…" 

The chief vet speaks up before Blaster can, but not to Jazz, but into the radio. "Has anyone seen signs of reopening or blood?" 

The Vet Chief wanted to fully isolate them from you, to keep them in a transfer-crate, at least until the injuries had a low risk of reopening. 

Blaster shoots them an offended side-eye, as Jazz is literally right here. However, he pushed it aside, half listening to the radio chatter – all good from the sounds of it – and turned to what was more important. "Did he hurt ya?" 

They'll take him away. 

"I'm fine," he whispered, looking down as he placed a hand on his chest. It still stung, as the first hit was made with intent – he had gotten mad when it happened, did it show on my face, did they see it – and the rest, warning shots. "Just a bruise… it was more dizzying trying to keep away from him than anything."  

–if the team reports you showing signs of aggression, they'll… remove him. 

He hums in thought, eyes drifting momentarily as •၊||၊၊၊ disappeared from the surface. Blaster was a little nervous about that as he looked back at Jazz. "Do you think that you'll be okay, the two of you, I mean. Do you need us to separate–" 

They'll take him away. 

"No." Jazz insisted quickly, fighting to keep his voice low – behave – and shaking his head. "We should be fine now." 

Blaster knew there was more going on, seeing as Jazz was soft spoken and avoiding eye contact; an old habit of hiding himself when speaking to staff, but it would have to be a talk for later. When Jazz felt safe enough to open up. So instead, Blaster smiled and said, "Alright. But me and a few others will be keeping an eye on you both throughout the day. Just to make sure you're both comfortable as you can be. It might be a bit rocky for the first few days, but that's okay, we were expecting that." 

Jazz didn't respond, his attention had been captured by the other mer at the bottom of the pool, beneath him. He had been somewhat keeping an eye on him with his sonar, watching •၊||၊၊၊ slowly explore the tank.  

Though, Blaster was just barely able to spot the other orca from the surface, and honestly wouldn't have noticed if not for Jazz. Pressing the call button on his radio, Blaster looked to the staff, "we've passed the first hurdle, everyone. We'll move onto doing rotation monitoring. Fred and Josh, you'll remain for the first shift. Everyone else, business as usual till I get a schedule in order." 

"I've adjusted the medications and sedatives." The chief vet told Blaster, though didn't even look at him, as they were currently preoccupied sending messages on their phone. Not even a second later, Blaster's own was going off in his pocket.  

"I'll look over your recommendations after." He sneered at them, though the vet had already turned to leave.  

Then while folks celebrated the success and steadily wondered off to their main duties, Blaster's second brought up the mers breakfast from the kitchen. They set Jazz's down next to him, but held on to the other while they eyed the water with extreme caution.  

"Ah, ya, no." Blaster spoke up before they even began to wind up, holding his hands out for the food. "Give it here, we are not chucking anything at him."  

They snapped to him with wide, frightened eyes. Like Blaster hadn't been here to see the speeds that the wild mer had gone after Jazz. "You cannot be serious– you're going to attempt to pole feed him? Now–here? When they have the space to jump!?" 

"No." He said with rising irritation towards their attitude and their poor handling of the situation. "I'm going to treat him the same as Jazz."  

His second now looked flabbergasted, glancing between Jazz, him, out over the pool, and then back at him. "But–!" 

Blaster pointed at both Jazz and up at the pair watching on the viewing deck. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't being reckless, he had been taking everything into account. And honestly, if he wasn't so mad about how the wild mer had been treated – and was just about to be treated – during meals, he'd probably be shaking in anxiety right about now. With a heavy sigh, he then carefully pulled the bucket from their hands to set it with the other, "look… I'm not trying to force you to do something you don't feel comfortable with. You're welcome to leave, I'll handle the meals and hopefully by the week's end, everyone will be feeling comfortable when it's time for food." 

They took one last nervous glance at Jazz, before whispering – pointless, he could hear it clearly – "I don't think you can – or should rely on him to protect you… especially with how–"  

"You're right," Blaster said deliberately louder than a normal speaking volume, "I am responsible for my own choices and actions. Thank you, for your concern. We'll talk in more detail later." 

Thankfully taking the hint, they left.  

Then the area was silent for a moment, save for the sounds of dawn songbirds being overruled by the sound of the scavenging birds of the morning. Starting to beg or fight for bits of food across the aquarium yard. 

"They're right, you know." Jazz said weakly, still not looking at Blaster.  

There might be other staff up on the deck that oversaw his pool, but one of the perks to being outside was that voices didn't carry as far unless one was intentionally loud. So they might as well have been the only two here.  

It was just enough for words to come tumbling out, like he could talk freely once more. "I messed up, it wasn't his fault, he wants to be peaceful – I'm pretty sure, and I just… I think I ended up challenging him?" 

"Jazz, listen, they misunderstood." He leaned over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not expecting you to come to my rescue, or put yourself between me and him, or anything like that. I know very well that I may be putting myself in a potentially dangerous situation, and I'm ready to face whatever the outcome might be. But what I meant was, that with you here – just like this, with us together. You are showing him with your actions that you don’t see me as a threat. That by willing to be around me and allowing me to touch you, you’re showing trust. Jazz, buddy, you’re a far greater help than those goons posing up there." The last bit was meant to cause him to laugh, or at least smirk. 

But when Jazz still seemed like he didn't believe him, Blaster made a small gesture for Jazz to look. In turning his head to see •၊||၊၊၊, the mer was at the far end with only his head above the water and had a serious gaze fixed on Jazz.  

"It might not seem like it, even with what had just happened, but he's relying on you." He waved at the wild mer and smiled, before reaching for a bucket and held it up in offering. But •၊||၊၊၊ simply scowled further. 

"I don't think Mr. prowl-around-you-like-you're-breakfast relies on anyone." Jazz grumbles in dismay.  

Blaster chuckled and set the bucket back down, "well maybe Prowl, is waiting for you to invite him over for breakfast. He seems to hold some expectations of you." 

"Ya, he sure– wait, Prowl?" Jazz whipped his head back towards Blaster, finally looking at him again. 

"If it fits, it fits." He shrugged with an amused smile, "though, out of anyone here, it should be you that chooses a nickname for him for us to use. I don't want to keep addressing him namelessly or calling him 'the wild' one, and I don't want folks to think that us calling him 'buddy' is his name." Then he laughed as he glanced back out to the sour mer still watching them closely, "I mean, come on, does he look like a Buddy?" 

Jazz tried to stifle his laughter, "n-no." 

Good, good, Blaster was relieved to hear it. Jazz was starting to relax back into his usual self. Coming back up from the depths to the surface to breathe. "So, what will it be?" 

Jazz's smile had slowly begun to return and so did his hopeful enthusiasm, "I think Prowl is good." 

"I'll send out a notice to everyone." And be sure to tear down all those horrible sticky-note suggestions. "But I am going to still try and learn to say his name properly," Blaster then clapped the orca's shoulder before stretching, "so I hope you're ready to have the worst student ever." 

"You're going to learn Mer," Jazz asked in surprise. 

"Heh, I'm shit at learning languages, but I'd be happy if you want to share more of your world with me." He then brought them back to the next part of their day. "But first, breakfast. Want to ask Prowl to join us?" 

"I'll try." He said, before turning around. Though gave a slight pause and adjusted his stance so his side was facing Prowl. When he saw a slight shift in his expression, one that eased some tension in his brow, Jazz gave himself a mental pat on the back. Already a marked improvement.  

{You hungry, Prowler?} Jazz asked. It was sort of funny having a word he understood that could connect to the mer's name. He wasn't sure of the meaning of •၊||၊၊၊ yet, or if it had one. But prowling was something he did, so it still felt like Jazz had gained another tiny piece of who they were.  

{Yes.} He answered, rising enough that his shoulders could be clearly seen, side facing Jazz for a beat, before he slowly began to swim over. Caution or taking it easy due to discomfort, his moments caused only the smallest and softest of ripples. Like a silent hunter.  

Yet, it made Jazz’s smile shift a bit higher. Prowl is prowling.  

But for Blaster, his instincts were starting to claw up his spine, alerting him of a predator. He was forcing himself to relax and keep up his friendly smile by the time Prowl came within five feet of the pier.  

Prowl eyed him up and down as he came to a stop, then gently turned after a moment.  

"Oh, right!" Jazz abruptly speaking up in slight alarm cause Blaster to flinch – which in turn caused a moment of internal panic, because sudden movements are always a bad idea – but Jazz quickly reached up over the pier and grabbed the human by the legs – which caused Prowl to flinch, and oh-boy, was Blaster having flashbacks of close calls – twisting him so he sat with his shoulder turned towards Prowl. "Pretty sure that facing toward him is like telling him you want to challenge them."  

"R-really," Blaster asked, both trying to distract from his thundering heart and focus on the new information. 

"I think so? He kept telling me to stop doing it, before I realized what he was talking about, so it has to be some sort of an aggressive sign." They both looked back to Prowl, who seemed a little tense, but otherwise calm. {You okay, Prowler?} 

{Yes.} His voice firm and serious, but did not look at Jazz when he answered. 

"… Guess we're ready." We’re good, but he must still be uncomfortable with what happened. 

Blaster handed Jazz his bucket first, hoping it would make the next easier. But then Blaster paused, seeing a distant look in his mer's eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing." Jazz fiddled with the bucket in his hands, but Blaster was still holding onto the handle. Not that taking it would be difficult, but it didn't feel like it was worth the effort.  

"Jazz…" he pressed softly. 

And Jazz retreated, "I… I don't feel hungry." 

At least he was being honest about it.  

Blaster had hoped that taking some time to talk would have helped to improve Jazz's current mental state. And it had a little. But his guilt over the misunderstanding with Prowl and the bad history with the chief vet were likely weighing too heavily on him. And as much as Blaster wanted to take the time and work through everything with Jazz, he couldn't right now, or rather Jazz would be unwilling.  

Because Prowl was present. Even with a language barrier, Blaster didn't expect Jazz to feel comfortable having a personal conversation with him so close. But if Jazz didn't eat, then it was likely that Prowl wouldn't either. The trust was thin as it was, and hesitating too long – and not being able to explain why – would only make rebuilding trust harder. So, offering to use the holding pool and close the gate wasn't something they could do at the moment. And he hated it.  

Blaster had to do something now to help restore Jazz's confidence and stop the spiralling of whatever thoughts were holding him back.  

Good thing he was prepared for Jazz possibly becoming stressed.  

"Hang on." Blaster said, his smile impish as he pulled the bucket back to set on the pier. Though, not wanting to risk Prowl backing off from him standing, he flopped back reaching for his bag strap, barely snagging it with the tips of his fingers. But he managed and pulled himself back up with it settling in his lap. "I've brought a little somethin." 

Jazz didn't seem interested but waited none the less. Watching as Blaster pull out a huge plastic food-container – ... okay, he was slightly curious now and a little annoyed, because if he was going to tease him–  

But then Blaster shook it with the biggest grin, and as the contents clunked around softly, Jazz's whole face lit up. Because what Blaster had just offered was the equivalent of a chocolate bar. There weren't many things that Blaster brought for him in a container, but there was only one that made that sound. "Moose jerky!?" 

"Shh! Not so loud." He glanced up at the other staff, like he was doing something that would get him in trouble. But it wasn't a secret that Blaster made these treats for Jazz. And while it still pissed off the chief vet, there was nothing they could do about it.  

It had caused a site wide outrage the first time he had done it. But orcas ate moose – the orca mers more so than the animals – even if it was mostly if there just happened to be one in front of them rather than an active hunting choice. But there was enough history, and with Blaster's dietary knowledge, he had won that battle.  

He just chose to mix it up a little, rather than bring in raw meat. Not so different than some sun-dried fish really. And Blaster personally prepared it to make sure it was safe. Seasoning was just sea salt, simple, but tasty.  

Jazz was now buzzing with eager energy. "Can I share with Prowl?" 

"You’d better," Blaster laughed as he opened it and handed Jazz two strips that were almost the size of dinner plates. He could have tried to use it to mend the trust between him and the wild mer. But Blaster knew it would help Jazz foster his relationship with Prowl and that was far more important. 

The whole time Prowl had been watching them and their exchange with intense focus, trying to figure out what was going on. So, when Jazz turned to him with a huge smile and held out what looked to be a piece of thin wood, he was wary.  

{It's good!} Jazz wanted to say it was amazing, but unfortunately 'good', 'okay', 'safe' was all he currently had to work with.  

After Prowl finally gave in and moved in close enough to take the offering, Jazz laid out on the surface. Careful not to get his food wet as he happily began to bite and tear small strips off. Taking delight in the satisfying sensation of the treat ripping and savouring the flavour as he chewed the tough meat.  

Seeing how much Jazz was enjoying himself, Prowl took a tentative bite and immediately understood why. The look of surprise on his face had the other two laughing.  

{Good, yes?}  

{Yes.} Prowl then followed Jazz's lead and relaxed on the surface, enjoying the first piece of decent food since he arrived. 

Blaster chuckled at the sight of the two of them and set aside the container to dig out his own personal stash to nibble on. "I've got more for you two sea otters, but only after you finish your breakfast."  

Smoothing things over by sharing snacks always opened opportunities for bonding. Good ol' comfort food saving the day. 

_________________________________________

Idk, this one felt very clunky to me, but I must move on -lays on the floor in defeat-

I'm now trying to put together a timeline of the all interactions that you share or like on your blog. Like a countdown clock to the flood/jailbreak, hitting all the angsty and fluffy notes, I want to make sure I can include everything. Q~Q

You and so many others have been showering me in praise and encouragement I want to live up to it. ♡(╥︣﹏᷅╥᷅)♡ I love you all, thank you so much!!

Going forward there is going to more Jazz and Prowl, without Blaster, I promise. Please forgive me and my long setups, my brain struggles with keeping things short, everything I write is a 200K+ slow burn. -cries-

-GLC

Previous

OH HELL YEAH GIVE THOSE GUYS A MOOSE THEY DESERVE IT KDDKSHFV

Blaster over there is having battles on all fronts possible alsjfnfjnf

Also I'm happy they can have proper food at least sometimes~ Although I can't help but think that like. Jazz is happy because this poor moose is kind of a rare treat. Nice occasion gift you know. And then Prowl also loves the moose but in more "I was eating nothing but raw potatoes for a while and now there's a properly seasoned and cooked meal again" way. You know. Cause mers have all kinds of different foods in their cities and stuff~ While humans just go "here's your fish".

Anyway haha. The scene is so cute I love itt~

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes

[puppppppppy]

littlest furth shop

@laikascomet

[jadecantcreate]

theyre holding hands……(and being shy about it)

hootsie and gricko doodles (mostly hootsie)

both requested by @nicohasperished !

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[trixxedheart]

It is amazing how the "people that love and uplift transwomen" website will instantly fucking maul a transwoman if she even remotely insinuate that using radfem rhetoric harms trans people

[willowser]

31 year old soggy loser touya that can't drive or stay out after curfew and that was released from prison 7 months ago and has to keep his job at ace hardware and has to go to his meetings and is figuring out how to both apologize and forgive and is so far behind socially among his peers because of all he had to endure during his child/teenagehood my beloved

[caelysiiium]

bearing witness to jean's healing is genuinely the best gift nora has bestowed upon us all these years later and the golden raven made my heart swell three sizes I am so fucking proud of him

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Out of sight, out of - wait.

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[bixels]

Be honest, what are your thoughts on appledash? Do you hate it or its more of not a big deal

Not a big deal to me. I like it, I see all the appeals, I just personally like Rarijack more.