#I had to Google that term

[doctortoothless]

Why does that plastic bag in my room look like a dragon?

[scarletkaoru]

[ros-sauce]

Y'know the longer I think about it, the more I think "To me, Mizuki is just Mizuki" or whatever it is that Ena said was Also a thinly veiled way of her saying "Ok well you're still a girl". Like I think the most glaringly obvious, not-behind-a-curtain-in-the-slightest line was when she pointed directly at "So are you like a guy too?" and correctly described that statement as an insult, but surprisingly, that line that pissed me off so bad, that line that really annoying people with limited ability to read have been parroting since the game dropped, might... actually be goated? A little?

Like. I don't know. Ena spent her whole friendship with Mizuki up to this point correctly assuming she was a girl, all she had wrong was the "cis" modifier. (And Cis Modifier isn't necessarily something she consciously thought of, because of the whole cis privilege makes you assume cis as the default and thus that modifier fades into the background thing.) Additionally, a hot fucking minute passed between Mizu5 and Ena5, long enough for Ena to ruin her skin with tears for her dead wife... And during that hot fuckin minute, the Ena5 4koma took place, where she straight up drew a lost girl while stressing about Mizuki. That whole gap between the events and what took place in the gap is very special to me... because the Girl Drawing combined with the Accurately Recognizing The Transmisogynistic Bullying As Exactly That really helps to make clear that Ena was confronting her "cis as default" way of thinking, and not anything else. I don't think she questioned Mizuki's girlhood even once, aside from maybe thinking "what the fuck are they on about" during her run-in with the bullies in Mizu5

[savage-rhi]

...some other pink variant but within the magenta category

[sadcatjae]

Okay so I've come out of my cave to put this term out there: Androsadism. The desire of and enjoyment in the concept of male suffering. I like this term a lot, so this is me letting y'all know. Yeah. This thing. It's the thing I like the most.

[dramas-vs-novels]

Granny, it's okay.

He's the Seme.

[bibleofficial]

this is so fucking funny like ONLY DFW WOULD REELECT THIS 😭😭😭

[certifiedcoffeeaddict]

is this anything

[kipperlillycopperkettle]

what if google docs stopped trying to autocorrect haymitch to gay Mitch. what then.

[doueverwonder]

seeing @louis--wifey talk about their texicali kids so much made me think about my indibama kids again so i'm posting them lol (mom is indy bc I am a femIndiana truther)

Mobile, 'Billy', 17, (he/him)

Typically very warm and friendly, and the top offender when it comes to passive-aggressively making people take care of themselves. Currently going through an aloof phase, he’ll get over it though. Has and has had, a lot of nonconventional pets over the years snakes, turtles, frogs, salamanders, a couple ant farms (fire ants once though he made sure his parents didn’t find out about that…). Locked in a lifelong feud with New Orleans over Mardis Gras (he also has a crush on her but the feud is more important >:[) 

Fort Wayne, 'Winnie', 14, (she/her)

Personality much like her namesake General “mad” Anthony Wayne. Her passion for just about everything she’s into isn’t always bad but she is very easy to rile up, very short fuse, regular in both the nurses and principals offices. Really much like Alabama, but somehow worse. Very passionate about the environment but in a very 14 yr old way, out here scolding her family members for things like not recycling and leaving the sink on while they brush their teeth. 

Huntsville, 'Hunt', 13, (she/her)

Loudest of the kids no competition, the child can scream and will not hesitate to do so. Usually just because she’s just so excited and can’t keep it all bottled up or she feels like she’s going to burst. Got her passion for mechanics from Indiana, but instead of getting into cars and developing a bordering unhealthy obsession with NASCAR like mom and dad went “you know what’s cooler than race cars? Spaceships!!” and it all was downhill from there. Definitely a Mathlete. 

Evansville, 'Evan', 12, (she/her)

The most mild of all the kids, not really loud and angry like dad, not really quiet and passive-aggressive like mom. She’s the mild salsa of people, and she is definitely happy that way. Very interested in medical fields, particularly the ones most people find the grossest, knows a lot of medicine history though mostly civil war and ww1. Walk away now if you don’t want to hear about the history of amputations and prosthetics. 

Tuscaloosa, 'Lucy', 11, (he/him) (twin)

The rough and tumble kid, much like Alabama when he was young. Stubborn and very opinionated. Wishes he was still the capital, often jealous that Montgomery gets to be it. Football is already his entire personality, wears nothing but Crimson Tide merch, and has played youth football since he was four. Regular in urgent care, not always for football related injuries because he is also just has dumbass as a personality trait. 

Montgomery, 'Monty', 11, (he/him) (twin)

Most quiet and anxious of the kids, much like Indiana when she was young, and also like his namesake General Richard Montgomery. Even already often wishes Tuscaloosa was still the capital just to not have to deal with the responsibility of it. Absolute history nerd, “did ya know-” could be his catchphrase with how often he walks up to any available family member to go on his latest ramble. Plays football too, but really hates it, too nervous to tell Alabama he doesn’t like it. 

Indianapolis, 'IJ', 11, (he/him) (Irish triplet)

How to kindly call an eleven year old a snobby, self-important, prick. Genuinely thinks he’s the center of the universe, not helped by the fact that he is in the dead center of Indiana. Has that previously mentioned bordering unhealthy obsession with NASCAR. He's also just so... annoyingly patriotic, but doesn't show it until you're too far in to the conversation to just walk away.

South Bend, 'Joey', 9, (they/them)

I mean this affectionately, they’re weird. You either die a weird little boy or live to see yourself become a weird nonbinary teenager. Car enthusiasts, but not specifically NASCAR like the majority of the family, just generally likes cars. While you studied the blade they were at antique car shows. Really close with good ol’ Uncle Michigan. 

Birmingham, 'Bee', 8, (he/him)

Greco-Roman myths nerd over here, never going to leave his PJO phase. That baby of the family privileges really make up half this guys personality, gets whatever he wants bc he's mamas baby boy. Not really relevant to his personality but he is a solid kid, v dense.

[itsalwaysforyou]

the black sky and all those lights

a silly little something i wrote for jalentines!!

When Mal opens the dormitory door, Jay is standing in the hallway in his workout gear, hair tied up in a bun. He’s already grinning in that way he does when he wins a fight. Mal rolls her eyes at him. Grabbing her bag, she says bye to Evie, and joins Jay in the corridor. 

She scowls as they walk, her workout clothes tight on her skin. Jay had insisted they’d do things properly, and not in their usual leather. 

The hallways are decorated for Valentine’s Day, making Auradon Prep even more gaudy and colourful as usual. Pink and red hearts plastered across the walls, boasting the abundance of love here in Auradon. Jay’s had a thousand notes in his locker. Mal’s had none. Every morning, she watches Jay approach his locker like he would a target on the Isle. Weight forward, shoulders squared; ready to fight if needs be. And the paper falls to the floor like blood, only sickly pastel. Scrawled glittery gel pen. Words confessing passionate love, or asking him on dates, or doodles of hearts. Jay smiles the whole time. Greets and winks at girls. Scrunches those notes up in a fist. 

“Everywhere looks disgusting,” Mal says as they approach the sports hall. Heart-shaped bunting crests the doors.

Jay holds the door open for her. “It’s fun.”

“You would think that.”

The sports hall is mercifully free of décor. They drop their bags in the corner and begin to warm up, another stupid practice Jay insists on. His top rides up as he side-stretches. Isle rule: never show skin, especially to the enemy. Except, Jay loved to parade around in those stupid sleeveless vests. She’s yelled at him plenty of times about it—Are you insane? You’re a walking target. He would just grin and say, they’ll have to catch me first.

Jay laughs as he grabs the practice swords from their stands. “Here.” 

He throws it, and Mal catches. The weight in her hand is familiar. Already, her pulse is thrumming faster, and maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll be back on the docks, with the wind ripping at her hair, and the salt stinging her nose, and half a dozen of Uma’s crew jeering over the clanging of swords. 

Jay chucks her a mask too, before attaching one to his own face. The mesh turns her vision slightly hazy.

“Ready?” Jay asks.

Mal’s watched fencing practise a few times, mostly as an excuse not to do homework and instead watch her boys wipe the floor with all those prissy Auradon princes. Coach Jenkins appointed Jay captain of the team a few months ago, a role he takes more seriously than she’s ever seen him take anything. 

“Rassembler! Salute! Lower the point. Masks down. En guarde!”

Mal lunges first, which Jay clearly anticipates, parrying her blow. He circles. Strikes. Mal blocks it. He’s quick. Reflexes honed to a sword’s point; learned by practise and theory. Mal lashes out again, just catching his free arm before he jerks away. She grins underneath her mask. Her breath comes quicker. Jay’s blade arcs down, hitting her chest. Mal swats his blade away. She hears him laugh. She growls. Strike. Parry. Strike. Block. Strike. Jay lands another hit. Their shoes squeak against the linoleum floor. 

“Come on, Mal,” Jay teases. 

Mal lunges like a cat on its prey. Jay’s blade grates against hers like steel against flint. Jay may be quick but Mal’s smaller, and she weaves her way through Jay’s blade until they both have the sword’s point angled at each other’s chests. 

They’re both panting. Jay lowers his sword first. Takes off his mask. 

“You came in clutch at the end,” he says. 

Mal huffs, wiggling the mask off her face and wiping her forehead with a sleeve. “You actually get training.”

“And now I’m training you!” 

His hair has loosened during the sparring, spilling out at the seams. He unties the bun; flips his hair down and shakes it out. In this late-afternoon light, his hair could be made of gold. Hair longer than Mal’s ever had. 

He pulls his hair back into its bun, deft fingers making quick work. When he straightens back up again, his face is slightly flushed from the match. 

And Mal looks at this boy she’s known most of her life; this face and these hands; a boy that has held her at the end of the world and the start of a new one. And she snatches back down her mask. 

“Again,” she says, lifting up her sword. 

She’s swinging before Jay’s even had the chance to pull his own mask back down. Her blade slices against his chest, and she hears the breath escape from his lungs. 

“Fuck!’

Jay’s blocking her hits in no time. Mal grits her teeth. A boy who’s inhabited every place she’s ever been. The shadow along the street; a fixed point on the rooftops. Those long, quick fingers that know their way around bandage; around open flesh; around her own hands. Like a comet to Earth. Like an eclipse. Totally consuming. 

And here, where the sun shines brighter than they could have ever dreamed, she is left blistering. Those girls that fawn over Jay, professing their love with the same ease that Mal can hold a dagger to a throat. Jay’s clicking tongue, and that low fry to his voice when he’s chatting someone up. Everything is always so easy to him. He can wrap anyone around his finger with a wink. 

His blade slams into her stomach. Mal pants, the budding pain in her side clearing her head. Jay’s standing above her like some heavenly deity. 

“Best of four?” he offers.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“C’mon. Let’s take a break.”

Jay drops his sword and grabs his water bottle from his bag. Mal joins him, still gripping her sword, gulping down her water like a man in a desert. 

“We should do this again soon,” Jay says. 

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s the Valentine’s Ball tomorrow.”

Mal snorts. “Yeah, and?”

“I was gonna go.”

His words are coming too slow; too considered. Like when he used to talk about his dad, or a particularly bad Barge Day. Rehearsed. A guard dog who’s smelled danger, prowling at the sidelines. 

Mal presents her blade. “En guarde!” she shouts, and Jay ducks her swing before scrambling over to his own sword. 

“Really, Mal? Another sneak attack?”

“I’m keeping you on your toes.”

They waltz around the sports hall, the blades clashing and slicing and singing.

“We all agreed we weren’t going to go to the Ball,” Mal says, jabbing at Jay.

“We never agreed anything.”

Jay lands a blow. They are at the dockyard, with its rotting wooden pier and dead fish stench. The screeching of metal; the shouting; Mal’s heart hammering like the tide. Blood, and life. The roar in her ears. A dragon’s call. Body moving without a thought, as quick as a lightning strike. Not having to look behind her because she knows Jay is there.

“Exactly!” she says. “Why would we want to go to some stuffy Auradon ball?” Jay tries to say something but she ignores him. “Why would we care about Valentine’s Day? It’s corny, and over-commercialised, and a stupid excuse to make everything about love.”

Jay has her backed up against a wall. With no time to mount his mask, his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is escaping from his bun again. He looks just like he did on the Isle; none of his perfect prince act that fools Auradon. His sword hovers above her throat. 

“Do you yield?” His voice is low.

Mal stares at him. Those eyes that have seen every part of her. All the blood; every smile; her pale skin in the dark Isle nights. The boy that has beheld her every action; weighed it all against his own understanding of the world, and decided that they slot together as easily as a bullet in a pistol.

“Who are you going with to the Ball?” Mal asks. She’s still clutching her sword. She could claim the upper hand, if she really wanted.

A grin creeps across Jay’s face. All those notes and heart-shaped lollipops. The giggling girls at his locker. He could pick any one of them. All of them so beautiful, in their sunset-coloured dresses. He could have anything he wanted.

“Well,” Jay says. “I was going to ask you.”

The sword’s point makes sure they keep their distance. Never too close. All touches so light; so fleeting, as if you could’ve mistaken them for a dream. As if you could’ve imagined the whole thing. All those nights in the hideout where the barrier of the body seemed thin, and the world became so small: just two kids who wouldn’t even dare knock knees. 

So Mal shakes it all away with a laugh. “I’m not going to the Valentine’s Ball.”

Jay lowers his blade. Neither of them move. “Not even with me?” 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls who actually want to go with you.”

“I want to go with you.”

His words echo through the empty hall. His word is as steadfast as ever, the only opinion Mal will ever trust. Compass, anchor: Jay does it all. 

Heralded here, Mal as real as the vast sky outside. Here, in his gaze, held aloft by trust where there shouldn’t be and compassion where there shouldn’t be and understanding where there shouldn’t be. A home for all her broken bones. 

Mal’s lips unfurl into a smile. This ache in her chest. In her throat. Jay always being able to disarm her. Jay in every place she’s ever been. Jay as her shadow; her skin; her second self. A reflection in the mirror. The line of separation is nonexistent. Like the sun, like the moon: one cannot exist without the other.

[taviokapudding]

Simon's joke of "soup of theseus" is so damn good & way more layered than most people think.

Okay so first- what is the ship of Theseus?

So amongst his many misadventures and legends the ship of theseus was a ship the Athenians believed connected them to the divine living person that was Theseus. The thing is, he was maybe Poseidon's adopted kid/the King if Athen's son and probably not real (or at least if he did his misadventures were super exaggerated as royals = divity stories are) but the fate the Athenians had for him & Apollo (the 6 labors is a fun legend that explains their connection and what the original ship may have been) was so intense, they would constantly give maintence as a form of religious worship to said ship on the island of Delos (where Apollo's most sacred sancutary is) every year it would dock to pay respects.

Btw we don't need to know the specifics of Theseus but he did infamously slay a minotar and Finn did have a good exchange with the Mannish Man to get the enchiridion aka the book that sets Betty & Simon on the paths they are on now so that's neat af

So if you've ever heard about the ship of Theseus being paradox- it comes from the critique that's always existed about that ship's maintenance & religious practices tldr if you are constantly replacing each rotted and borken part of a ship, is it still the same ship?

The soup is a paradox like the ship

That paradox exists in many many scifi and adventure stories like the Nier series & Ghost in the Shell but in this instance we got to first look at the joke literally. Farm world's Finn's wife's soup is the same as the ship. The original soup farm world HW made no longer exists on a technicality, but the way Finn and his kids continue to add on and consume the soup is exactly like the Athenians. It's about the intent of carrying on the memory and keeping the soup around to honor the dead rather than the soup's original recipe {which also is incredibly sad & imples that farmworld Finn is both coping and never learned the original soup recipe}. It's a beautiful way to honor their dead mom/wife and it makes you wonder if that Finn did die if his kids will continue the practice.

But the paradox goes beyond the soup & into our reality

A lot of people have noticed that Fionna's last name is Campbell and Campbells is a real soup brand that would've been around before the great mushroom war. When Marceline gets sick as a kid, Simon goes great lenghts to get her chicken soup- that only worked out because the primordial version of the Mother Gum assisting {which is extreme Bubbeline foreshadowing}. And in that scene the can low key is a campbell design. But what if I told you there's more?

In Cheers, the tv show Simon is seen constantly watching and referencing throughout the original run of Adventure Time & in the recent Fionna and Cake had Carla Tortelli work at a Canpbell's Factory.

Neat references aside the soup ends the moment the main trio hit the remote button and I have a BA in psychology & interest in childrens media and entertainment that I want to milk for once. Metaphorical intention is beyond relevant episode specifics but actually the foundation of Fionna and Cake when it comes to the paradox.

Simon making the soup of Theseus joke is the main problem Fionna and Cake has to address

If Simon can summon his & Prismo's au from his head without proper MMS (Magic, Madness, and Sadness) where does Simon the human start and Ice King end?

As viewers who grew up alongside the series, the majority of 25+ watchers are finding Simon, older Finn, and Fionna painfully relatable because good fucking god we are all traumatized because of the ongoing pandemic.

If you want to focus on the main topic you can skip this part. But if you want to get very serious for a minute, please stay. The majority of people wont to accept what I just said about the pandemic being ongoing because global governments pretending the pandemic is over, the rise of depression and escapism in real time at a social level at a global level but especially in the US where the series is being made, and the daily interactions we have with most people refusing to mask up {with a violent reaction} when there still isn't a cure for COVID has created the perfect enviroment for most people to not accept change or crave extreme change. Fionna and Cake tackles these 2 very common forms of how depression tends to manifest when it's not fully manic to be displayed through Simon (self isolation from poor coping due to loss, detachment from society, dwelling on the past to the point it effects social interactions, extreme forms of religious practice, etc.) and Fionna/Finn (pretending everything is fine, avoidance, going through the bare minimum motions to survive, escapsim and dream of grandure, not caring about sel preservation, no/lack of self control with sweets/coffee, etc.). And I've noted there's a subset of AT viewers who don't relate or find the depections too real to the point they're upset the show's tone isn't as light hearted as AT. The thing is when a global disabling event happens, unless you were under 10 when it happened and even then it's a 50/50 because you probably did lose or know somebody who did die these last several years, you will have some kind of trauma response to it whether you like it or not. Hell, some of you unknowlingly have a gap in your memory about 2020 specifically due to inconsistent sleep schedules that have nothing to do with the shrinking of the brain mass COVID causes that we all call "brain fog" and now that I pointed it out you're probably going to go stare at a wall for 5 mins {sorry btw, doubly if you have long COVID and this is how you found out what brain fog partially is}. As someone who's been dealing with depression since I was a child, it's okay to be not okay given the last several years and doubly if you've been conscious long enough to see the US freefall into fascism too {which I hope encourages those who weren't aware that's been happening to go look into that because we can't get into it right now}. Because I unfortunately know what manic depression can look like - if you find yourself relating to Simon a little too much during ep 3, please talk to somebody who is licensed and trained to do so {not me, I haven't done suicide prevention work since 2017 and am not licensed- I genuienly won't be enough of a resource} okay? Don't throw away yourself nor change yourself for others only. You need to work to accept the past, move on to live in the present, and change yourself for yourself. It won't be easy and resources are out there to not do it alone, alright?

Becuase of how paradoxial and fluid mental health (espeically undiagnosed depression) can be and how AT has it's own version with MMS, could Simon have unconscious MMS still because of Betty's with without a battery but can't tap into it because of his mental state? And could Ice King as we once knew him even be considered a proper person Simon could return too?

The original wish of why Ice King's appearance & abilities is the way it is IS because of Evergreen's impression on Gunter {Evergreen was one of the ice elementals of the past btw- go watch the original Adventure Time for that context}. So Ice King isn't even an original character, just the crown building off the wishes and manifestations of each bearer by emulating a warped version of Evergreen. And that's the main reason why I speculate Ice Thing aka Gunter the Penguin is chill af to the point he got married and can exist with less gems. His wish didn't build off of power to protect Marceline (Simon) nor the power to copy Evergreen (Original Gunter).

As the main trio jump from connected universe to connected universe, more Simons and crowns will appear that are even more removed from our Ooo's crown and it's version of Ice King or Ice Prince or Winter King will only manifest because of the prior and current wishes made. So if Simon does get a crown that isn't the Ooo crown, will the Ice King that once existed even be THE Ice King he wants to be? And will Simon want to be Ice King or an Ice King when the trio do return to his Ooo?

The crown and it's many versions is a paradox that can only be resolved if Simon and Fionna can work together but also set aside their depression to address what they both really want and what that wish's intention will do to themselves and those around them. In short, shit's deep

I applaud the team for Fionna and Cake for tackling such a layered problem and I'm excited to see how Simon's soup of emotions, Fionna's growth, & magic crown of Theseus is addressed.

[nabaath-areng]

Whenever I feel bad about symptoms from my illnesses, I think of my sibling's horse growing up, whose name was Batman and who was so allergic to grass he had to be wrapped up like a christmas present every summer to prevent rashes. I don't know if that makes me feel better exactly, but if Batman could cope and continue to mosey around like the gentle old man he was, then maybe I can cope with being completely bedridden certain days.

[maxfosterstudio]

Two mini zines with similar themes... Both are about houses, but one features their destruction while the other appreciates their beauty.

[rainintheevening]

🍁🍁Comfy-vember🍁🍁

Day 5: Saying their name | Dressing fancy

Daisy Johnson (Skye) & Phil Coulson, Agents of SHIELD, AU

-------

Skye—Daisy—twisted and turned in front of the mirror, biting her lip as she considered the full skirt with its layers of tulle and silk, the little flowers with tiny green leaves worked in glimmering thread around the waist and square neckline, the fluttery short sleeves that showed off the muscles she'd spent the last few years acquiring.

The whole thing made her feel more like a Disney princess than a SHIELD agent, but she actually didn't mind. Not for a night, certainly.

The deep red dress was a Christmas present from Coulson, overwhelming in that it had been custom made for her, with real silk and everything. It had hidden pockets for her phone and anything else she might want. Even the embroidered flowers had pink daisies mixed with red roses.

Just as exciting was that Grant had no idea what she was wearing tonight, other than it being red. The thrill of imagining his reaction, made her suddenly shy, and she turned away from the mirror, pressed the cool backs of her fingers to her flushed cheeks.

A knock at the door of her small bedroom, and she stilled, alert as a rabbit till Coulson's query made her smile.

"Daisy?"

"Come in!" She tried to stand confident and relaxed, but her fingers still twitched, so she clasped her hands behind her back to hide it.

Coulson didn't look up until he was in the room, door mostly shut behind him. When he did, the slow drop of his jaw, the smile that made his face all soft, the murmured, "Wow," made tears spring to Daisy's eyes.

"It's even more beautiful than I thought it would be. You make it beautiful." Coulson passed her a handkerchief, and she tried not to smudge her makeup, suddenly glad she'd gone minimal today.

"Really?" she sniffled.

"Of course." His eyes seemed to be suspiciously shiny too. "My mother had a red dress, something like that. You're just as pretty as she was."

Daisy thought she might melt through the floor at such a compliment, the idea that she might be considered as much a part of Coulson's family as the woman who had been his own blood. She stepped into his arms then, hugged him tight.

"Thanks, AC," she whispered. "Thank you. For all of it."

The dress, the compliments, the hug, his trust in letting her date Grant... She owed him so much.

"My pleasure." He kept his arm around her shoulders as she pulled away, smoothed her skirts back into place, found a watery smile for him.

"You look great too," she said. He was wearing a much nicer suit than usual, black, white shirt, white gloves, and with a red bow tie, as seemed fitting for a chauffeur. "You're sure you don't mind driving us?"

"Are you kidding? You think I'd let some random limo driver take my two best agents anywhere? Someone's gotta be packing for the night. Besides, it's Grant's birthday. It's the least I can do."

Daisy grinned, his chatter lightening the air. "Are you gonna dance too?"

"I'll steal you for one number." Coulson stuck out his hand, smilingly serious. "Deal?"

"Deal." She shook his hand gravely.

"Five minutes?"

She watched him step back out, suddenly noting how much happier she felt, how much more confident. Just like how a dad should make his daughter feel before a big date night. "Should I put my coat on now, or wait till we get to the car?"

He smiled back over his shoulder, quick and amused. "Grant's in the common room. Maybe let him see you first."

"Okay." Again her cheeks warmed, thinking of her boyfriend, hoping his face would light up at seeing her as much as Coulson's had.

"See you at the elevator, Miss Daisy Johnson."

She rarely heard her full name, and sometimes she wasn't totally sure it belonged to her, but the way Coulson said it warmed her down to her toes.

"Thank you, Philip," she answered, giving him what was meant to be a graceful nod of dismissal. "That will be all."

She had to turn away hastily to hide her snort, as the door shut on Coulson's muttered, "Well, I guess chauffeurs usually get called by first names, don't they?"

Nerves now exchanged for elation, Skye hurried to grab the rest of her things, humming Taylor's 'The Best Day' under her breath.

Now I know why the all the trees change in the fall / I know you were on my side / Even when I was wrong / And I love you for giving me your eyes / Staying back and watching me shine...

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.