Jul 24
"I am DC Hodges" AGAIN???
seen from Malaysia
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Norway
seen from Canada
seen from Netherlands
seen from South Africa
seen from Iraq
seen from Kenya
seen from Russia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from Türkiye
seen from Iraq
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
"I am DC Hodges" AGAIN???
WHAT DO U MEAN GH PT 5
Is this anything 😭
Hell Town
April 20, 1989
Mike stood in front of the class in full continental army regalia, complete with a tricorn hat and highwaters. “Life in the garrison city of Philadelphia was anything but restrictive. Many referred to it as a den of sin.”
Will couldn’t believe Mike was giving his final history presentation on “Revolutionary Bawdy Houses,” but he leaned over his desk intently the whole time.
“In closing—and forgive the alliteration, but I couldn’t resist—randyness ran rampant among the rabble.”
“A very eye-opening topic on the oldest profession, Mr. Wheeler,” Ms. Bland said. “Does anyone have any questions?”
Chance leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I got a question. Was it just girl prostitutes or were there, uh, dudes?”
A few people snickered as Mike went on. “Hold on, surprisingly enough that’s not a stupid question at all. In transient, male-dominant military cities, secret meetings down at the wharf were more likely than you think.”
“Oh, I think it’s very likely, Mike Wharfer,” Chance snorted.
“Jesus Christ, really?”
“Shut up, Chance,” Will groaned.
Ms. Bland clapped over the noise. “Alright, alright. Great presentation, Mike. And I love your hat.”
“Thank you, I handmade the cockade.”
History was the last period of the day, so when the bell rang, Mike and Will broke out into the sunshine. “I probably should’ve changed out of this, but oh well.”
“It’s fine,” Will laughed. "In fact, it's actually...y'know. Commanding."
The letterman-clad mouthbreathers weren’t done. “Hey, Wharfer, I’ll give you twenty bucks if you do a pole dance on the flag pole in your Bluebeard getup!”
“Wow. OK. On my wives’ graves, I’m about to make the easiest twenty I’ll ever make.”
“Mike, come on. He’s never gonna actually give it to you,” Will sighed. “I can’t believe they’re still pulling stuff like this two weeks before graduation.”
“No, no, they want a pole dance, they’re gonna get it. Anyone got a boom box?”
One of the jock mouthbreathers—though it was unclear why he had a Debbie Gibson tape—put on “Only In My Dreams” as Mike jumped up on the cement base. He approached the pole seductively, grinding, spinning around and turning upside down until the tricorn hat fell off and his knickers were sliding low on his hips.
Both the jocks’ and Will’s mouths were wide open.
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Ghost Recon: Wildlands with my own ReShade
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deleting tumblr off my phone. probably only gonna come back to post chapters. you can find the ao3 link to the fic in the masterpost, go subscribe to that to get notified when it updates. if you wanna stay in contact with me, DM me and i'll consider giving you my discord if i trust. see y'all later
Writing your own story and feeling there needs to be More added to it
But then you realize in order for there to be More
You have to be the More to add to the More
In order for there to be
More