#honestly midwesterners say ope all the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butmakeitgayblog · 8 months

Note

Hey babe, first, wanted to let you know that it hasn’t stopped raining in my town you know since when? since you posted that midwestern Clexa fight, coincidence? Don’t think so 🤨

Second, been bombarded with that ops show too and I agree 100% with you, both in the copaganda aspect (they lost me at the mention of marine’s and middle east terrorism)and the thing about this new ships. I want to stop a moment in the answer you gave me a time ago about this wn comeback, so, even if they write them well (at first), never forget who’s behind these shows and suddenly this thing we haven’t heard about gets popular cos it has a wlw couple with amazing chemistry, they get increase in viewers so they explote it to promote their next season and then what? Sound familiar? We just can’t trust them anymore.

Third, I super totally agree with you on the Clexa lightning in a bottle. As one of the newer Clexa fans (next week will make one year since I saw the second season and told my sister “I’m sensing a little bit of the gay vibe in here, wonder who of the two will die”) I’ve seen already most of the shows one sees named in the conversation about wlw couples and let me tell you, only this one got me hooked both from the beggining and way long after its ending (hell it got me into tumblr and twitter, things I’ve never done before and I even bought a book about it “El legado de Lexa” to know more about this shitstorm her death caused). Whatever IT is, they have IT. I honestly prefer reading fics about them than get invested in a new show.

Fourth, do you really wouldn’t recommend Clexa to new fans? I mean, yeah we got hurt but they’re more than their sad story, they’re this whole community and I think that’s a beautiful thing. Personally? I wouldn’t recommend the loo but I’d tell them about Clexa warning them beforehand so they can decide for themselves? There’s this dialogue on a media fic comparing someone with a really good book that you can’t put down or let go, that even if it made you suffer and you know the ending, the feeling you got reading its unique and you just wanna keep back to it, and that’s this thing to me.

Finally, I love how you apologize beforehand if your opinion that you posted in your personal blog offends the people who asked for it and came to said blog willingly and with the intention to read it. You humble polite kiddo *pats you in the head affectionately*

Sorry about the long rant 😬, en resumen, this new show? not sure I’ll watch it, Clexa is the “el que no conoce a dios a cualquier santo le reza” of ships, I’m leaning more into the recommed Clexa side of things, we love you and your opinions.

And we need the reconciliation so the sun can come up in my town again.

There's a lot here 😅 not complaining tho!

Ok so the first real thing I gotta answer is about would I rec theloo and Clexa to people who haven't heard of it. My honest answer is would I rec Clexa fic? Yes. The show? Maybe, but it'd come with A Lot of caveats 🥴. Because the thing is, and I may be alone in this thinking idk, but I'm not really sure if someone can appreciate the entirely of Clexa and Lexa, and Clarke in particular, as characters or why their dynamics and eventual love story were so amazing if they didn't watch the show. While the Clexa movie is fantastic at showing their chemistry, there's things that happen within the show that effect them and speak on who they are as individual characters that aren't ever really included in the supercuts because they aren't together in them. Which I agree with! The thing is already 3+hrs long lol. But it does matter for context and it does hold weight in their story, both together and individually, so I would have to say to really get them you have to watch the show at least up until 307. I know there's people who write fic who haven't watched the show at all and I just... no shade! But I can usually tell. Cuz it shows.

But in that same breath the show got so fucking stupid and nonsensical I, in good conscience, have a very difficult time telling people that they should watch that hunk'a shit 😒 Season 2 was its best, let's just be honest, and season 3 was JRot's bullshit Frankenstein creation that he used as a way to shoehorn in this fucking AI plot from a movie or show (I can't remember which) that didn't get picked up but he was just convinced it was brilliant. He wanted to be GoT meets Star Trek or some shit so badly I just know he was pissing himself watching dailies. So overall it's such a double edged sword because yes I want more people to love Clexa, but at the same time the show overall is so gd bad I don't wanna put them through it.

About the Ops show, someone said it is copaganda which I expected, and not even actually enemies to lovers?? Which baffled me but apparently one of them is undercover and using the other one to get to their father or something? That's not enemies to lovers 🤨 that's manipulation. Which ok fine I'm down with that in fiction but if one party is unaware of your nefarious ways and is just interested in you then that's not... that's not EtL. That's just I was trying to trick you and caught feelings/I had feelings and then found out you were a liar. False. Advertising. 😤

Lastly, I'm a midwesterner we apologize for everything 🥺👉👈 knocked into a chair with my knee today ans accidentally apologized to it before realizing myself 😔. But really it's mainly because I know how easy it is online for people to think everything is a personal attack on them or their tastes when it's not, so I find it's just safer and more pleasant to remind people that I am just a person stating their own personal opinion, and it's really not ever anything to get upset about 😅

#gabywithoutthedollhouse #and also I'm writing the midwestern make up now I'm sorry I was... busy

4 notes · View notes

inwintersolitude · 10 months

Text

- July 17th 2023 -

What's on your to-do list for today? Not much. Just some housework - I need to load/run the dishwasher, vacuum, and get caught up on my expense tracking spreadsheet.

Do you ever watch movies or TV in bed? Do you use a laptop or do you have a TV? Nope.

What's your favourite thing to cook for house guests? Creamy Tuscan chicken, or penne pasta with roasted zucchini and tomato sauce.

What sort of music did you grow up listening to? Did your parents have a big influence on your music taste today? My mom is a classical pianist so I grew up listening to mostly classical, and also some jazz because my parents took a liking to it when we lived in the New Orleans area in the early 90s. And my dad likes classic prog rock so I listened to a bit of that as well. Classical and classic prog/psychedelic rock are still some of my favorite genres.

Do you remember your dreams? Usually.

Are you at home right now? Yep. I'm in the downstairs bedroom that we use as a bird room. I have a mini portable/collapsible desk that I set up when I want to bring my laptop in here from my study and chill with my birds.

When was the last time it rained where you live? About 10 minutes ago. A thunderstorm just passed through.

Do you think you have a diverse vocabulary? Yes, I'd say so.

Have you ever eaten pawpaw? I've had papaya (I've read that some parts of the world call that pawpaw, I'm not sure if that's what you meant), but I've never eaten what people in the U.S./Canada call pawpaw, that's a different type of tree fruit that's really obscure and not usually cultivated/eaten.

What was the last art or crafts project you worked on? Macro nature photography.

Do you know anyone who's been bitten by a snake? Nope, not that I know of.

What's a slang word or term that's specific to your neck of the woods? For me, in Australia, I would say "old mate" or "frothing" :D Ope! It's the most Midwestern word ever lol. It's an exclamation of mild surprise, and in some uses it's also kind of politely apologetic. Sort of like a mashup of ''oops'' and ''woah!'' and ''pardon me.'' Like if I accidentally bumped into someone I'd say ''Ope, sorry, I didn't see you there!'' Or if I had misplaced something and then suddenly found it I'd say ''Ope, there it is!''

Do you know how to ice skate? When was the last time you went, if ever? Barely. I think the last time I went was in 2008-ish? I vaguely remember going to my university's ice area with some friends but I can't remember if I joined them in skating or not. If not, then the last time actually skated was at my 10th birthday party.

Dogs or cats? You must pick one! I honestly can't decide! So much of it depends on the individual animal and its temperament. I like well-behaved and calm dogs more than most cats, but I like most cats more than neurotic/needy/high-strung dogs.

Are there any animals or creatures that scare you? Just spiders and centipedes. And scorpions but I've never seen one in real life.

Do you like watermelon? Yes I love watermelon.

Is your backyard or outdoor year tidy or messy? It's tidy, except for the garden hose in the back yard that's just kind of laying there rather than on a reel.

Have you ever played organised team sports, like in a league? Yep, all throughout my childhood. I played soccer from ages 5-10, and softball from ages 5-13.

What are you insecure about? My teeth, sort of. My tooth enamel didn't develop properly, it was a side effect of antibiotics I had to be on as a baby, because of a birth defect that caused frequent kidney/bladder infections. I want to get veneers but I need to get my TMJ issues and slight overbite fixed first. I had orthodontics when I was growing up but the orthodontist failed to address my malocclusion and made it worse.

Okay, what are you secure about then? Who I am. My personality and sense of self.

What's your favourite kind of puzzle? Sudoku puzzles, or nonogram puzzles.

Do you ever use the bathroom with the door open? Yep. I usually only use the en suite bathroom in my bedroom (so that I can keep the downstairs guest bathroom cleaner for longer), so it's no biggie if I keep the door open.

When was the last time you took an elevator, and where were you? A few months ago, at my doctor's office.

What last made you feel sad? Seeing my Granddad deal with dementia. And seeing how it affects my Granny.

Have you ever received a gift hamper? What did it contain? I have, but it's been so long since I got one of those that I don't remember what was in it.

Are you using a phone, laptop, desktop or tablet right now? Maybe something else entirely? Laptop.

What sort of movies do you tend to watch? I don't watch movies super often, but I like science fiction, psychological thrillers, and historical dramas.

What colours are you wearing today? Navy blue, black, and white.

How often do you use your microwave? What did you last put in it? Not very often, maybe like once a week? I think the last thing I put in there were some of the leftovers that I brought back from dinner at my parent's house last Wednesday.

Who's the last person you messaged and what did you say? My husband. I sent ''You're sweet 🥰"

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal blog

1 note · View note

stormkrigeren · 4 years

Conversation

Clark: *returns home with Darcie, the only other survivor of their species*

Martha, externally: Oh, hello, nice to meet you

Martha, internally: (ﾉ＾◡＾)ﾉ baaaaaabeeeeyyyy daughter!!!!

[versus]

Clark: *returns home with Lois, the literal light of his life and one of the few humans who Gets Him*

Martha, externally: Oh, good morning, nice to meet you

Martha, internally: (ﾉ＾◡＾)ﾉ (ﾉ＾◡＾)ﾉ twoooooo baaaaaabeeeeyyyyy daughters!!!!! (ﾉ＾◡＾)ﾉ (ﾉ＾◡＾)ﾉ

#martha kent #farmer momma #clark kent #kal-el #superman #man of steel #mommas boy #smallville #lois lane #badass reporter #clois #clark kent x lois lane #darcie kent #superwoman #two kryptonians #totes confusion #i'm writing rn #honestly midwesterners say ope all the time #this is literally what happened

22 notes · View notes

internalsealpanic · 4 years

Text

Explosive Chemistry

Summary: Chemistry labs can be a bit tedious. Nothing laser vision can’t fix though.

A/n: You can all blame @birdy-bat-writes for this fluff and @knightfall05x for the amazing mood board. This might feel a little rushed so apologies and Clark is kind of hard to write (ope). Anyway, here is your regularly scheduled comedy. Thanks again to @knightfall05x for proof reading!

warning: swearing, reader’s terrible moral compass, and some injury

masterlist

You met Clark- Well, ‘met’ might be too formal a word for what happened.

You discovered Clark during a mundane Metropolis afternoon. Taking a break from your studies (read: a group project that had not been going smoothly), you hopped on to a trail car to go to your favorite sandwich shop right across from your favorite diner.

The sandwich shop itself was nothing too special, not in a good way at least. It was even what your delicately paletted father had politely described as ‘subpar’ which as far as you knew was the worst insult he could give. Frank- the owner- was, of course, inclined to disagree. You were, on the other hand, inclined to agree with the opinion especially after biting into a raw piece of chicken in one of their “famous” chicken sandwiches. But it was cheap and it offered the best view of the diner across the street.

In truth, you liked the food at the diner better. Their blueberry pancakes were absolutely delightful, at least, on Mondays. But more than anything you found more delight in watching its contained chaos. You’ve watched people propose, get divorced, have fights, and everything else in between. The sheer absurd theatrics of it all captivated you. It was people-watching at its finest. Frank just thought it was creepy to which you simply nodded and nibbled at your sandwich.

As you watched the usual ensemble cast in the diner, you witness a tall, handsome guy with black hair and blue eyes get mugged. Ok, well, almost get mugged. He was a big boi so you weren’t entirely surprised when he was easily able to stop the scrawny knife-wielding assailant. What did surprise you were the proceeding events. To your utter disbelief (and amusement); instead of throwing the guy into the gutter as custom dictates, the buff guy just guided his assailant to the diner and had a chat with him. You chew your sandwich slowly as you watch them talk as if nothing strange had occurred minutes before, digesting the odd comedy unfolding before your eyes.

Moments later and a few tears shed, they parted ways. You frowned thinking that would be the end of it and you were about to whine to Frank about how anticlimactic that was. But then it just kept going.

He got mugged.

Again.

And again.

By the fourth time, Frank sat beside you to watch finally leaving the spot he was polishing alone. Repeated muggings were weird enough but the guy kept inviting them to talk. You choked every time but made no move to intervene, only nibbling at your sandwich and watching with near clinical interest.

After the fifth mugging, Frank raised a challenging brow at you as you continued to chew on your sandwich. You shrug at him as if to say ‘I’m eating what do you want me to do?’. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave you even as another mugger approached the buff guy. You cut him a look and chew a little faster. For a guy running what is most likely a money-laundering scheme, he sure was noble.

Having finally finished your sandwich, you wave your hand halfheartedly to Frank, your middle finger extended skyward. Kicking the shop door open and jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets, you made your way to the other side of the street ignoring the cars driving past you, blowing and whipping the skirt of your dress every which way.

Neither of them pays you any mind as you approach them, which was just as well. You shifted the strap of your backpack on your shoulder deciding whether to use it. Your laptop was in there so probably not. You decide to christen your new flattops by giving the man a good harsh kick in his nether regions. He goes down with a squeak.

“Scram!” You snarl, baring your teeth. In a surprisingly well-coordinated motion, he does, looking honestly scared for his life. You pivot to the guy who you assume is some kind of tourist.

Most people would say that Clark towered over you but the truth was that no matter how tall Clark was he couldn’t really measure up to the height of you. Nothing about you was inherently intimidating, especially as you stand before him in flat tops, hoodie, and short dress, except maybe for your shoulders. But that had less to do with their actual shape and more to do with how uncommonly broad they were compared to the rest of your body. Some people say it made you look like an angry dorito to which you unfailingly replied with something Clark would rather not repeat. At least, not in polite company.

You regard him with a pinched brow which makes Clark straighten as you openly assess him. You memorize the angles of his features, all the sharpness and corners of it not noticeable due to the softness of the way he carries himself in a typical hometown boy kind of way. You note your university’s logo on the edge of his sweatshirt.

You reach your hand out. “Y/n L/n but just call me Y/n”

“Clark Kent” He answers, shaking your hands. You note the distinct midwestern shape of his syllables which explained a lot.

“Yanno muggers aren’t exactly good speed dating partners, right?”

Clark smiled at the, admittedly, terrible joke. By the way, your eyes flash with interest, he’ll be seeing a lot of you.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your foot bounced erratically against the metal bar serving as your stool’s footrest. You watched the thermometer with a pinched face and a ticking brow as the mercury in it remains unmoving. Your mounting frustration amusing Clark making him cover his mouth. You fix him with a look and the door actually whistles “innocently” and looks away, pretending to be intently reading the procedure as if you two haven’t been reading it for the past half hour trying to figure out why your solution wasn’t boiling. His baby blues none-too-subtly flicking in your direction. You give him one last scathing look, which he easily glances off, before turning back to your solution. His eyes have been flickering at you as if he’s been meaning to ask you a question. That question likely being ‘could you possibly stop looking like you’re going to murder the molecules in our solution’. His eyes flicker again to watch you seethe and pout at the liquid and it takes everything in Clark not to tease you about being cute.

Bouncing your leg again, you gently turn the hot plate’s nob until the screen reads 1000 F. Clark makes a choked sound, finally tearing his attention away from what you assumed to be a particularly interesting semicolon. Clark reaches over and turns the damned thing back down to 300 F. You glare at him before, violently, turning it back up to 1000. Clark just as quickly turns it back down.

Click

You two continue on like this for a while ‘til your instructor, pinching his nose, strolls over to your lab bench to politely tell you to knock it off. With a shrug, you two settle on 650 F as your compromise. You, however, continue to glower at the solution while Clark peruses through the next lab distinctly reminding you of someone in the waiting room of a dentist’s office which makes you scrunch your nose and worsen the impatient ticking of your limbs. “Glaring at it won’t make it go faster,” Clark chuckled in his Midwestern sweater voice. You had the urge to pour the hot acid of the flask on to him but you suppressed the urge mainly because it wouldn’t actually hurt and pouring it on him meant starting over and that just sounded tragic.

You place your hands primly on your lap and spin your chair towards Clark. “Not all of us can watch grass grow, Paul Bunyan.” You snip. Clark shakes his head at you, whether it’s from your tone or the nickname you can’t tell. All you could discern was that it irritated him and some petty part of you was satiated the way old gods were when someone made an acceptable sacrifice.

“Is that what you think we do in Kansas?” Your first impulse is to say ‘yes’ even if it wasn’t the truth. You thought better of it though. Picking a fight with Clark Kent was a terrible idea, superstrength or not. You were, of course, familiar with Kansas as a concept the same way you were familiar with Mars. Both seemed equally distant, equally alien, and equally irrelevant as such you never dedicated too much thought to it. The last one might have changed a bit with your chance encounter with Clark. You remember him mentioning going home for Thanksgiving Break. You also distinctly remember wanting to ask if you could come along. After all, you didn’t have much in the way of killing time during holidays seeing as most of your relatives were overseas and the relatives you did have here were indisposed either due to work or due to other families. You felt silly thinking about it now and even sillier contemplating how you would explain the special brand of unpleasantness of being bored over the holidays. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- your eyes flicker to Clark but you shake your head- or a girlfriend or maybe friends who weren’t either foreign exchange students or farm boys from Kansas with laser vision.

You whip your head to Clark who was mumbling something about not staring at the grass. He frowns at you, not finishing his sentence.

“You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The bad idea look.”

“I do not”

“Ok, let me rephrase. The let’s do something stupid for science look.”

You huff indignantly. Clark looks unfazed and a little smug. You did not have that kind of look and sue, you’ve asked once or ten times to use his powers to do something ridiculous but this was a matter of importance.

“Use your heat vision”

“Wha-”

“Heat vision. Flask. Go faster.” You punctuate each word with a wild flick or gesticulation of your hands.

Clark moves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his sharp nose.“We’re not going to use my heat vision-”

“-Yes, we are.”

“No, we aren’t. Do you want me to list the ways this could go wrong?”

“Relax, my human shield is invincible.”

“You’re horrible.”

“Yup.”

“I really can’t convince you?”

“Nope.”

“What if I just don’t?”

“Then I dip out and break into a different lab to get a bunsen burner.”

Clark laughs, shaking his head fondness seeping into his smile. It made your heart melt and your face heat. You know you’ve won when Clark moves his seat closer to you. For some reason, Clark always insisted on sitting just a little farther from you no matter the circumstance.

You two lean in. Clark gives you a side glance. “For the record, I said this was a bad idea.”

“Fine, I’ll quote you on that once I’ve won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry.”

Clark snorts. He removes his glasses, the blue of his eyes shifting to an angry red. It makes your breath hitch every time being reminded just how dangerous your sweet, gentle best friend really is.

You watch the liquid in the flask begin to boil and you make a noise of triumph, throwing your arms up in the air in delight. Clark smiles at you and you feel a little embarrassed by your reaction but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. You both lean back and you toss him a smug smile. He huffs at you amused and rolls his eyes.

“Fine, not all of your ideas are-”

Crack.

Shatter.

Shards of glass fly everywhere as the flask shatters. You yelp high and surprised. Clark pulls you into his arms shielding you from the glass and hot acid. You hiss when a shard cuts against the delicate skin of your forehead. You’re numb as you feel the blood trickling staining Clark’s shirt. Your senses were more focused on the way he wraps his arms around you and how safe you feel despite the graze on your forehead.

“Y/n, Clark, are you two ok?”

You hear the frantic footsteps approach you but neither of you pulls away. You just focus on how tightly Clark holds you against himself. You feel the flex of his large muscles as he pulls you closer.

“We’re fine sir but I think Y/n needs to go to the clinic.”

Do you?

Your fingers rise up your forehead and your stomach drops a little when they come away red. You’re aware that you’re bleeding but it takes some time for the knowledge to fully sink in. Your professor is practically shoving you out of the room by the time you even make any move to react.

“Y/n, I-”

“I swear to god if you say I told you so I’ll punch you in the face-” You look into his eyes, your voice amazingly calm. He opens his mouth again. “- and if you say I’m sorry I’ll punch you in the dick.” His mouth closes and you both fall silent even as you go down the hall towards the university’s health office which was just a glorified clinic with the addition of counselors and a waiting room with Rubix cubes instead of magazines. Clark doesn’t loosen his grip on your shoulder even as you wait for the nurse to come out and treat you.

Your mind feels far less frantic than it did a few moments ago.

“I told you it was a bad idea.” Clark jokes offhandedly.

You snort at the remark and glare at him without any real venom. “You really aren’t as nice as people say you are.”

“Nope.”

“Jackass.”

This draws a tired laugh from him. “Well, I’m sorry. Why don’t I make it up to you then?”

“Unless you’ve got a Porsche in your back pocket”

He winces. You snort again.

“How bout coffee?” You blink at him. “Or maybe dinner? This Friday?” He adds with a hopeful lilt.

“Just as long as you don’t invite a mugger to come along.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THANKS FOR READING

taglist: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell

#superman #superman x y/n #superman x reader #my writing #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superfam #kind of #in the future if I continue with this reader

100 notes · View notes

scribbledghost · 4 years

Note

Hi Scribs! I was wondering how the boys ,maybe some modern au's? If you're up for it? How the boys + marcus and max Phillips reacts to their s/o being from the midwest? I'm from Wisconsin (unfortunately) and people are always shocked when I say I'm from the midwest/wisconsin cuz I have only a slight accent (Ope is in my vocabulary) whenever ppl ask me whats in wisco I say snow, alcohol issues, cheese and a good amount of cows?

Note: Oh hey, I’m from the midwest too!! Just a little bit further south in Indiana lol. We just got corn, crows, and weather that changes every 5 minutes lmao. Also I definitely say Ope a lot more often than I am anywhere near okay with

Agent Whiskey:

Being from Kentucky, Whiskey probably knows a fair bit more about midwestern culture and mannerisms than one would think. He rolls along with the phrases, and probably uses a few himself. But that far north of the Midwest is a little new to him, and he’s absolutely delighted whenever some of your accent slips out.

Javier Peña:

“It’s like you’re trying to talk to me, I know it!” Poor guy doesn’t get most of what you’re saying, especially if your accent gets kind of thick. He knows Texas culture, and even though Midwest culture is kind of similar, it’s just those few degrees off to where it seems almost uncanny valley to him. It’s like what he’s used to, just... ever so slightly not.

Din Djarin:

Din is so used to encountering people from different areas of the galaxy, so he doesn’t think much of it. Sure, he may not understand some of your phrases and your accent is different from others whenever it gets more pronounced, but overall it’s a pretty inconsequential thing to him.

Catfish/Frankie Morales:

Honestly? I can kind of see Frankie being a Midwesterner himself. So he doesn’t even bat an eye at anything you say or how you say it, and in fact he’ll probably respond with something equally midwestern. Always utters out an “ope” in various situations without even thinking about it.

Ezra:

Ezra doesn’t even really bat an eye. He’ll definitely give you sideways looks if you pop off with some really midwestern turn of phrase (I’ve been told the terms “railroaded” or “train’d” are like... exclusive to where I am lmao). But overall he won’t think much of it. He’s probably said weirder shit himself, anyway.

Oberyn Martell:

Oberyn is going to be absolutely fascinated, especially during those times when your accent becomes more pronounced. He’s probably used to like, the upper echelons and their mannerisms, so anything other than that is gonna delight him. (He probably describes things as “quaint”. What a nerd.)

Maxwell Lord:

Maxwell does not understand one bit of what is going on or what you’re saying half the time. He’ll just kind of nod along, and he probably thinks the “ope” you mumble out whenever you almost run into something (or someone) is kind of endearing. But the culture of the Midwest is absolutely lost on him.

Max Phillips:

He probably relates it to somewhere in rural Romania, like the most insufferable study abroad student you’ve ever met. Doesn’t matter if you grew up in Chicago or in the sticks, he still views it as some rural area full of nothing but farms and cows.

Marcus Pike:

He finds it oddly endearing?? He probably views you as some small-town person, regardless of how big the town was that you actually grew up in. He won’t really think much more of it other than that though, he’s definitely encountered people from all over the country through his work.

#Agent whiskey #Javier Peña #din djarin #catfish #frankie morales #ezra #oberyn martell #maxwell lord #max phillips #marcus pike #ghost scribbles

21 notes · View notes

localspacelesbian · 5 years

Text

some midwest-inspired andi mack headcanons no one asked for

none of my friends responded to any of these, so now i’m subjecting you all to them. i came up with them at like 3am last night when i couldn’t sleep.

anyway, andi mack supposedly takes place in the fictional state of Midwest, so here’s some midwestern things the kids do:

(sidenote: i’m not sure if some of these are technically just “midwestern” things, but whatever)

tj is That Guy who puts ranch on everything.

(i was gonna say that this conflicts with my headcanon that he’s lactose intolerant, but honestly, it doesn’t.)

one time, they’re all eating lunch at school, and he just drowns his pizza in ranch, and everyone looks on in horror, and cyrus is like “I think we need to break up.”

also, i saw jalapeno bacon ranch in my fridge this morning, which is horrifying and so midwestern. tj and marty get in arguments regularly about shit like that.

tj, marty, jonah, and buffy all go outside and watch tornadoes, even though jonah is definitely scared but won’t admit it

they also all get super into fireworks for the entire month leading up to the 4th of july

(buffy pretends like she’s there to keep them from doing anything too dumb, but she’s just as into it as the others, especially when she and marty find ways to make it into a competition.)

When/if they move into an actual house, Bowie and Andi start a vegetable garden

because honestly, it’s a crime that he both cares about the environment and is good with plants, but the only gardening we see him do is with flowers

One time, cyrus says “ope, let me just sneak past you there and grab the ranch" and as soon as he realizes he said it, he dies a little inside. No one ever lets him live it down

tj drives a pickup

One time, andi is complaining about the weather, and either bex or bowie says "if you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes and it'll change" and that's the moment they realize they've truly become parents

The good hair crew definitely had lemonade stands every summer as kids

They go on roadtrips a lot in highschool

they play a lot of roadtrip games

buffy, tj, and marty get super competitive about it of course

cyrus has banned the windmill game after the Incident

(Buffy punched tj so hard it left a bruise)

tj almost always won that game, which buffy finds endlessly frustrating

on one of their roadtrips, they definitely go to carhenge (it was andi’s idea)

cyrus is the only one of them who has seen stonehenge. he thinks stonehenge is better

tj, marty, jonah, and andi all find carhenge fascinating

they definitely go to the state and county fairs every year

tj gets fried oreos, and everyone else is slightly horrified, but tries them anyway. they reluctantly admit that they’re actually pretty good

they go tanking (assuming there’s a river near them I guess)

(if you don’t know what that is, google it. sidenote: “nebraska: honestly it’s not for everyone” might be my favorite tourism campaign ever)

they all say pop. you can’t change my mind

also, this happens a lot:

jonah: was that a siren

buffy: oh it’s wednesday. we’re fine

they definitely catch lightning bugs all the time in the summer

in the fall, they go to a corn maze. marty and buffy of course make it a competition. jonah gets lost

#andi mack #midwestern things #andi mack headcanons #tyrus #this got really long im sorry #a lot of this is just me projecting but what else is new

187 notes · View notes

frogsandfries · 4 years

Text

Several thoughts

I'm not allowed to wear any kind of flair at work............... on my clothes hue hue hue. They can't stop me going visual kei and covering my hair in clips. Just kidding, I personally wouldn't go that far. They also can't stop me from decorating my water bottle. I bet if I brought back my Nazi trash badge as a hair clip, or even studs, I'd get asked not to. I was vaguely thinking about that, that I should make some badge-like designs.

I tripped into a discussion about how easy it is to go vegan, of course by being controversial, by pointing out food deserts and getting my ass chewed by a Brit who thinks all Americans can walk to a grocery store where all the veggies are fresh and delicious and then take your fresh produce home to your fridge. I'll be honest, the food industry doesn't give a shit about consumers and the government cares more about the industry of food than the industry of the people being fed. And certainly, you can see a lot of the industrial revolution and World War II in the US food industry. Capitalism is why the US has food deserts, populated places where you may have to travel forty minutes or more to get to a grocery store. I had someone from rural Texas brag about how easy it's been their whole life to be vegan. Looking at the produce sections in each grocery store I've been to here in the town where I currently live, it would be easy to become food fatigued, even if you knew how to use every single different fruit and vegetable. The selection just isn't there, even season to season. Ten different kinds of apple, four different kinds of potato, three kinds of lettuce, seven kinds of onion, a few kinds of citrus. And frozen veggies?? Cauliflower, broccoli, potatoes, carrots, tropical fruit and berries. Food fatigue.

I live in a very White-white community with almost no diversity. One grocery store doesn't offer ANY dairy alternatives. If you want to treat yourself to yogurt, suck a carrot. If you can't tolerate dairy, your options become severely limited.

There are, I'm gonna say three and a half grocery stores in town that I know of--I'm not counting Walmart, or the grocery store that's closing when it sells out of stock. The "half" grocery store is a co-op. It's kind of out of the way, but it's been around forever. One grocery store is the very white grocery store; one is very forward thinking, but still kind of limited. And one is very Nordo-Germanic, with a teensy little flair of Latino and Asian. I don't know how else to say white. Only one of these grocery stores is interested in your desire to be a better consumer; none of them particularly cares about your vegan diet.

I've written ad nauseam about how I spend over an hour getting from work home. In the summer, transporting perishables is almost out of the question, even with an insulated bag. Canned goods get heavy. I don't want to spend an additional hour every day or two going grocery shopping. Midwestern culture simply does not comprehend that time is money. My time is worth money. The time I spend scraping at this register, I really ought to be doing anything else to truly further my career.

There are an assload of things the US could be doing. Honestly, we should just burn it all to the ground and start entirely all over again, based in science, since science doesn't give a shit about your god/s.

I took a nap the other day and as I was coming out of it, I was half-dreaming about being back at my job in Tucson. I thought to myself, certainly, I could just pick up the phone right now and ask if they're looking for help. I would touch down with a job already locked down. I could imagine being there, putting on my apron, running tables, changing the coffee, getting yelled at by the evil bar code lady. I could taste the spectre of happiness on the tip of my tongue.

My current job doesn't make me even remotely happy, but there's nothing even remotely like that in this bland, milquetoast town. I don't know how to live somewhere without a tourist industry.

I'm miserable. I don't even like my job enough to shrug off not being able to keep up with my goals.

All I can do is hold on, and be stubborn in attempting to get my license. I refuse to stay here and continue to be sick and miserable all winter. That's too many months to cling to my creativity for dear life. I can't stay somewhere where I don't feel safe being genuine......

I have a friend who is offering me the position as their caregiver until I get my license...... but this time, I'd be leaving a ton of my crap, for someone who tried to help me, to deal with. That's not fair. I guess I could send it ahead of myself. And there's also the option of sending it ahead.

I'll get through this.

I'm going to get my degree.

And then I'm never living here again.

0 notes

thisdaynews · 4 years

Text

How Frank Bruni put Pete Buttigieg on the map

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/how-frank-bruni-put-pete-buttigieg-on-the-map/

How Frank Bruni put Pete Buttigieg on the map

Nonetheless, Times readers looking for a Democratic savior long before 2024 or 2028 might’ve been swayed by Bruni’s introduction to the mayor of South Bend.

“If you went into some laboratory to concoct a perfect Democratic candidate, you’d be hard pressed to improve on Pete Buttigieg,” Bruni began the column, which noted the mayor’s education at Harvard and Oxford, his military service and Christian faith, and accomplishments when it comes to TEDx talks, half-marathons, speaking Arabic, and playing piano.

Indeed, elements of Buttigieg’s resume — Rhodes scholar, military veteran — have provided fodder for numerous profiles this election cycle. But his decision to come out as gay, which hadn’t happened when he deployed to Afghanistan and got mentioned in “The Fix,” added an unusual element to his unique political ascension that played a significant role in Bruni’s 2016 column.

“Could we look up a dozen or more years from now and see a same-sex couple in the White House?” wondered Bruni, who is also gay. He closed the piece by urging readers to “keep an eye on him.”

At that point, the Midwestern mayor had little footprint in the Times. Buttigieg co-wrote a couple of op-eds during his 20s on political party platforms and Somalia, respectively, and appeared in a two stories from South Bend on fixing abandoned houses and at a Studebaker event.

Bruni and Buttigieg met publicly again in early February 2019, two months before the mayor officially became a presidential candidate.Bruni interviewed Buttigieg at the Brooklyn Public Library upon the publication of his memoir. Bruni and fellow columnist Gail Collins also invited Buttigieg to the Times to meet with some opinion colleagues, an informal discussion that they’ve similarly had this year with candidates such as Sens. Kamala Harrris and Cory Booker and Montana Governor Steve Bullock.

Bruni has interviewed Buttigieg this year for the Times, while also revisiting his 2016 column when arguing in April that Buttigieg is “gay enough” – a response to critics who claimed that Buttigieg’s straight-laced demeanor doesn’t fully embody gay culture. Bruni also cited his 2016 piece in a column last month headlined, “The Agonizing Imperfection of Pete Buttigieg.”

“If I dreamed up an ideal Democratic opponent for President Trump in 2020, I’d locate that candidate in the industrial Midwest,” Bruni wrote. He listed other attributes: “relatively young,” not a Washington insider, fluent on religion, and can “lay claim to being a trailblazer.” Buttigieg met all the criteria.

“But I have the damnedest time imagining him in the White House in 2021, and that’s depressing the hell out of me,” wrote Bruni, who believes Buttigieg’s age, 37, remains a glaring imperfection.

Bruni, who is 55, has held roles at the Times ranging from White House reporter to restaurant critic. He became an opinion writer in 2011. While Bruni has written approvingly of Buttigieg and more harshly of other candidates, such as former Vice President Joe Biden — and once dreamed of a Harris-Buttigieg ticket — he doesn’t see the columnist’s role as telling readers whom to support.

“Even if it was within the tradition and the norm for columnists to say, ‘Here’s who you should vote for,’ I would be stumped,” he said. “The number one consideration is who has the best chance of beating Trump,” said Bruni, adding that anybody who claims to know that answer is guessing.

Bruni hasn’t been alone at the Times in imagining Buttigieg’s name on the ballot in November 2020. Fellow columnist Nicholas Kristoff floated the idea of a Sen. Elizabeth Warren-Buttigieg ticket, or perhaps Buttigieg-Warren.

The candidate has also received praise from conservative columnist Bret Stephens, who called Buttigieg “by far the most politically gifted person in the field.” Columnist David Leonhardt wrote early on that the millennial Buttigieg “deserved a hearing,” and then did just that months later by interviewing him for “The Argument” podcast.

Buttigieg has received unflattering coverage, too, with columnist Charles Blow recently highlighting the candidate’s failure attracting black voters and arguing that homophobia isn’t to blame.

Bruni reiterated that he believes Buttigieg would have a better shot if he were perhaps five years older, though noted the weekend Iowa poll suggested “his age may be less of an obstacle for voters than I would have expected it to be.”

The nomination remains up for grabs, and Buttigieg has so far failed to gain African-American support, a major hurdle in states such as South Carolina. But Axelrod, who recalled meeting Buttigieg a year before recommending him to Bruni, said he’s been impressed.

“I am not surprised that he has exceeded expectations,” he told POLITICO, “but no one could honestly have predicted how well this would come together for him.”

While early pieces in the Post and Times helped put Buttigieg on the national media map, he has also embarked on anambitious media strategyto boost his profile this election cycle, which has included engaging with a wide variety of outlets and fielding questions from reporters for hours during bus tours through Iowa and New Hampshire

Bruni credits Buttigieg’s facility with the news media, which he witnessed up close over two days in South Bend, as a major asset to his candidacy.

“He’s someone who has the mental acuity and the energy and the fluency to be talking all day long and to pretty much always say what he meant to say, and to react to things spontaneously with some precision and eloquence and wit,” said Bruni. “And that’s not easy.”

#Bruni #Buttigieg #Foreign #Politics

0 notes

mrsmiresa · 6 years

Note

Where are you from? Also I love blackholes!! Libby is so down to earth. Thank you for sharing this with us!!!

I’m from the midwest. So I eat ranch with everything, say “ope” every other word, spend my free time floating down the river, and love Cardinals baseball. :P

(that last one is not applicable to all Midwesterns, though it definitely should be).

Thank you SO much for reading black holes!! I honestly can’t tell you how much it means to me!

0 notes

stormkrigeren · 4 years

Conversation

Perry: Lane, where's Kent? His piece was supposed to be on my desk nearly half-an-hour ago.

Lois: I'm sure he's around.

[meanwhile]

Superman, completely lost somewhere over Africa: ope

Superman: this is a pickle, ain't it

#midwestern aesthetic #midwestern boy #farmboy #honestly midwesterners say ope all the time #its like californians calling everything dude #ope #clark kent #kal-el #superman #man of steel #lois lane #perry white #incorrect superman quotes #badass reporter #ope I'm just gonna squeeze right past ya and grab the ranch #its almost a reactionary sound #geralt says hmm #clark says ope #his train of thought is just 'ope we're in a pickle'

17 notes · View notes

giant-spider-boyfriend · 7 years

Text

A Little Personal

Jack was feeling the strain, he’d been at this job now for a Decade, it was getting time to hand this whole business off to younger members. Noticing grey in his hair, and lines on his face only made this more apparent every day. He dropped the papers on his desk, and decided to take a break, he’d earned it. After an allnighter and a desk nap he felt maybe some of these reports could wait. Not like they were going anywhere.

A hop and a skip and he’d ended up in the kitchen. Well more like break room, he glanced around the mostly empty room eyes settling on the rather bulky man hunched over a glass and a bottle. Whiskey? Looked like it, honestly it was only 1 in the afternoon. He furrowed his brow. George had never really been on any of his teams, Jack’d been Army, and George was a Seal. Completely different worlds honestly, he’d heard a few stories second hand about the man’s kill count...and not all of them were Omnics. War wasn’t limited to humans and machines, sometimes men had to duke it out with each other he guessed. If he recalled George was a bit older than him, not by too much. He only really knew the man by his code name, or rather...his other half. Hephaestus...and damned was that guy good at collateral damage. Lucky they only tended to drop him in places already mostly destroyed. What the hell, he might as well sit down with the man, no one should drink alone. Anyway they were both midwestern country kids, maybe that meant they had something in common there. As the commander sat down with his frankly molten microwave food tray George looked up and raised a brow. “Yello, commander;” he greeted with a brief sort of smile. “I think I’m off duty, but don’t tell anyone, call me Jack;” “All due respect, I dunno you well enough for Jack, hows about we go with Morrison, eh?” George replied, god that was thicker accent than the commander had expected. “I honestly forget for a moment where you came from, I betcha I could guess,” Jack mused giving the mush that was macaroni a try. Too hot, and kind of awful. “Oh I suppose,” George accepted. “Michigan, Upper Peninsula,” came the wager. “Alright, ya got me, guess I owe you somethin, eh?” the giant of a man reached into his pants pocket. “Hows about a penny? This ones real shiny.” “Where the hell did you get a penny in this day and age?” “Collect em, found a whole jar of em up north, when my mom passed on; she’d willed me the property,” he said and took a swig as Jack examined the coin.

Morrison watched as the glass drained, curious how much of the bottle had disappeared from this sitting. “No missions coming up?” Jack asked, he couldn’t recall if he’d put together any teams with George in them. “One, but it doesn’t matter how much I drink, don’t get drunk...at this point it’s more for the taste. I pretend it’s doing something,” mused the man. “Sides folks aren’t really sending me out, the big guys who ya want.” He poured a bit more into the glass and took a sip. “Well I mean…” “Look no need to tell me different, without the big guy I’m a washed up spec-ops nobody, with a bum leg and metal arm to boot,” George mused with a dry laugh. “I’m glad, being here anyway…” Jack raised a brow and stopped eating for a moment curiously expecting George to elaborate. Morrison was getting rather tired of being here if he was honest. Though he couldn’t bring himself to hand the reigns over and retire from it all. The big man seemed to pick up that Jack wanted further explanation. “Well, I woulda been out of the field for good; they discharged me with some damned purple heart, just like that...good bye. That mistake at the hospital saved my life, if I’m honest,” he said as he scratched the fuzz onf his chin. “I lost pretty much everything when I came home. Wasn’t really much left to live for.” The commander wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I’m...sorry to hear that…” He cleared his throat. “I...uh…” “You don’t have to apologize, had quite a few years to figure that all on my own,” George said holding up a big hand. It was weird to Jack, sure they’d both served, but from 18 through to now he’d never really known anything else. From what he knew of George’s past he’d lived more of a life than Morrison had. “I guess I just don’t know anything about that...I’ve only ever done...this I guess,” he said with a cough. He didn’t want anymore of this tasteless microwave dinner. George leaned back and cross his arms over his broad chest. Everything about the man had a largeness to it. He wasn’t quite as tall as Reinhardt, but seemed like he’d give him a run in the sheer bulk department. “Nobody’s every walkin the same road, Morrison; my father died in the line of duty, my uncle got off with a shattered hand; how it goes, y’know?” He shrugged.

Jack furrowed his brow and nodded slowly. “I...suppose.” He wasn’t sure what else to say to that, it was correct. Him and George walked vastly different paths, just odd to meet someone who seemed at peace with what might come. “You a religious man George?”

“God fearing, at the very least I like how the end works with the classic Christian bible…” there was a pause as he considered for a moment. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a man of the church, just someone who’d like to believe, y’know?” “Yeah, my parents were the same way, you remind me of my dad…” Morrison mused. “Not that it’s a bad thing.”

George gave a dry laugh. “Maybe it’s cause I’m a father myself, always was a dream of mine, have kids, settle down...things didn’t work out exactly as I planned…” he said with a sigh as he fondled the glass a bit. He took a long swig, draining most of the glass before he set it back down. Seemed the subject was soar. He put his hand in his pocket again, pulling out a beat up leather wallet. He further dug in that and then place a pair of photos on the table. “I’ve got them backed up and saved to a few different places...so I never lose them, but I like having something to touch.” Morrison slid them over and examined them, a much younger George, with a pair of young children, one was just a baby. The other looked about 4. “Cute, what’re their names?” “My little girls named for her great aunt, Kathryn, and the other is named for my grandfather, Thomas. I’d call my girl Kitty Kat, and Thomas was always Tommy;” the man replied, a distant smile on his face, like he was recalling a better time. The way he talked about it made it sound like they weren’t around anymore. Jack didn’t want to assume anything. “Must be in their 20s now, you keep in touch?” he decided to hazard, that seemed safe, though the lack of pictures of them at an older age made him wonder. George’s brow knit into something like pain. “Naw, their mom took them away, had me sanctioned...said I uh...I’d hurt them. Guess it’s not hard to believe I could but...never. They were all that was left after I was discharged, I guess she didn’t really care for me when I was around all the time...I tried not to fight too much,” he murmured. “Just do what she said to, pretend everything was alright…” He cleared his throat. “Sorry this is a bit too personal, didn’t mean to ruin your lunch.” “Eh, not so hungry anyway,” Jack replied and tried to figure out something else to say, what did that pain feel like? He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to imagine. Never thought of having kids himself, though he supposed it’d happen...how old he was maybe it wouldn’t. “Sorry, George, I don’t know if I could even pretend to know what that’s like…” “No, don’t suppose you could, it was a long time ago, I was told I couldn’t see them and if I did while they were under legal age...then I’d be taken to jail,” George said and shrugged. “How it goes, her word against mine. I don’t blame the system for believing her. But then she took my kids to California, what was I supposed to do? I used my mom as a go between, she said she told them stories about me. Can’t imagine what she’s said, she just didn’t want them thinking I was some kind of monster…”

Jack nodded along, he wasn’t a therapist or a counselor and he should suggest George see one, but he supposed it was something of a man to man? He was the commander after all, he was basically sworn to confidentiality when it came to this kind of thing. “Well, never could keep in touch, but I marked every birthday; I liked to buy something, I wasn’t sure what they’d like when they got older, so I’d get a little of this little of that each time. Figure when I finally met them again they could pick and choose what they liked…” he smiled a bit at that. “Stupid…” The commander gave a snort and shook his head. “Nah, sounds nice; my weird aunt for 10 years straight gave me the same matchbox car, cause she knew I ‘liked race cars’ the last one I got at 25, already in the army, heading for the crisis and this little box shows up from crazy Aunt Harriot, and it’s the same damned car,” he explained and that got a chuckle out of George. “Middle of this war with omnics I get this damned package. I honestly started hollerin’ and almost crying. Nobody understood why it was so funny.” The man’s shoulders loosened up and he looked a bit more open than he had. “Reminds me of the care package I got from Uncle Todd, he’d sent a dime of Marijuana, and a travel bottle of shampoo. And that’s all that was in the package, now you might have thought I’d turn in the contraband and you’d be wrong;” George said looking around tapping his nose. “I tell you what after the 4th throat you start to lose an appetite, passed that around the tent, and I had 6 Seals asking whether it was Dawn or Dusk, because the fire was orange.” Jack looked aghast before he started chuckling along with George. “You didn’t…” “God as my witness, that’s the honest truth…” And Jack could do nothing but believe him. He felt so clean cut hearing that kind of story. “Best part was a tentful of Seals waking up naked because they thought that since it was dusk no one would see them drying their clothes.” “Why did they need to dry their clothes?” “They didn’t, but everyone started saying moist a lot…and I lose track of what happened after that.” Jack had his hand over his mouth as he laughed till his stomach hurt. “We should go out for drinks sometime George, I need to hear more about that…” he mused, happy to have diverted the man from his more painful past. “I can tell you more about weird Aunt Harriot.” “Love to hear about her, nothing like odd family from the Midwest…” “You’re damned right.”

There was a brief pause of quiet as their laughed burned out. Jack stood up and shook George’s hand which frankly seemed to engulf his. “Pleasure really meeting you George, good luck on your mission,” he mused.

“You too, Morrison, and thanks, I’m sure the big guy can handle it.”

“Take care of yourself, we’ll have to find time for drinks.”

“Free when you are, sir;”

And that was that, Jack left the man to the last of his bottle, and headed back for his desk. With all the resources at his disposal surely he could find a pair of civies. But...would that be the correct thing to do? He decided yes, it was. All the years George had given to this organization, he could give something back. Maybe when he arranged drinks, he’d arrange that. “Athena, George Pickford, we’ve got his file yeah?” “Of course, Commander, everything from his military service to his time at Overwatch.”

“I need you to look for a pair of names in our wider database, scan others if you can, Kathryn Pickford, Thomas Pickford;” “Right away, Commander;” Yeah that seemed the right thing to do indeed, Overwatch was about helping people, well this was him helping someone.

#Overwatch Fanfic #Soldier 76 #Overwatch #Jack Morrison #George Pickford #George #Fanfiction #OC

0 notes