#i'm trying my best with wikipedia
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I have failed to give you updates on my other stories as I took a break from them, as my brain skipped tracks onto another story I had to get down. So here is an expert in an early-ish part of that one.
It is set in 1908 norther Japan. This is a small excerpt a while after the characters have already been introduced. I hope you all enjoy it. It is called :
The Monk and the Traveller
“I shall come with you to the next town then, I have some letters to send among other things,” he declared, moving to collect all of his belongings back into his rucksack. Cherry spun round to look at Collier, a flustered expression on his face.
“W-why?!” Cherry managed to force out, at a near total loss for words. Collier swung the now packed rucksack back over his shoulder, next to his Lee Speed and Type 35, taking a moment to adjust them then strode forward, ahead of the monk.
“Not everything needs a reason my good sir! Often just being mildly interesting is enough!” he called back in a boisterous yet sagely tone, Cherry staring after the whirlwind that had just blew past him. He took a second to grumble then stormed forward to the man. Even if his company could be… interesting, he was more likely to get a bed and a meal. Collier marched forward at a confident pace, not a single item on his person rattling, near silent as he strode forward a talent he had learned on his travels. It unnerved the monk. Cherry regarded the man oddly, like one would a spirit that had sat beside you for a meal.
“By they way, Cherry,” Collier began in a curious tone, thinning rain pattering off his bucket hat, “why do you dress like a Shinto priest despite being Buddhist?” Cherry looked up at him with a plain expression, less surprised the foreigner knew the difference than he might’ve been before.
“My-the leader of my temple decided to change our vestments and some our rituals to more closely match Shinto traditions around the time the government began to favour it over Buddhism. He thought it would make our temple more appealing to officials and the locals… He was right for the most part, annoyingly,” Cherry explained drolly, a note of annoyance in his voice as he begrudgingly acknowledged the plans’ success. Or more accurately that that man’s plan succeeded. Collier looked at him with an interested but respectful expression, deciding not to pry in his acquaintances life so soon.
“What about you?” Cherry queried in a sober tone, Collier looking back at him with an enquiring expression, “How do you know so much about Buddhism and Shintoism? You are a foreigner after all,” he finished bluntly, glancing back at the man as the rain finally died away, abandoning the light breeze that had accompanied it.
Collier wore an easy expression, one that seemed to say ‘oh is that all’, “I often spend time in the Raj for hunting and other things. I spent a while at some of the old Buddhist temples and monasteries to learn their teachings. Though I went to other ones as well, I spent some time with Islamists for about a year and two with the Sikhs up in the North-west frontier. I cannot encourage you enough to travel there. Beauty beyond dreams…” Collier trailed off wistfully, staring out ahead of him as he walked, holding his hands behind his back as Cherry looked at the traveller with a stunned expression. “As for Shintoism,” he brusquely resumed, “I came here to Japan a while ago, just after your war with Russia. I mostly stayed in Hokkaido and southern Karafuto[1] hunting with the Ainu, but I also learnt a bit about the Shinto faith from a temple further north. Though I should add that I learn most of Japanese before the trip, just enough to get by,” he added flippantly taking a long stride to get past a small stream that had cut across the path, its source likely having flooded due to the rain. Cherry looked at Collier with a bewildered expression as the hunter outpaced him, leaving the monk to watch the back of his head, or more aptly his hat.
He was strange. That was what Cherry decided, influenced by his sour disposition against the man. He followed on nonetheless, he saw no reason to put much effort in avoiding the man. The journey was not long now, and having traveling companion with loose purse strings could be helpful. Especially considering how the monk was nearly always skint. The sky was grey for a while, exhausted rainclouds lingering in the sky like a now silent orchestra. When the sky broke out into sun, around quarter to eleven, the forest glowed with beauty. Though, it had been so before as well.
Collier’s eyes would dance between flowers and trees glittering from the dew like a child in a sweetshop, grinning as he saw animals busy past. He stopped every so often to pull out a book to jot something down or sketch as he observed some odd bit of flora or fauna. Cherry would begrudgingly wait nearby, taking a moment to pray, occasionally hearing the other man mumble to himself in English as he worked, along with one or two other languages he couldn’t identify. Other times he would walk while he jotted down shorthand notes, not that Cherry could read them.
He spoke in long, drawn out tangents about various animals or other things, denoting how he had seen them when he was out hunting or had gone out specifically for them. He rambled about this that and otherwise while the monk occasionally chimed in, mostly tuning the man out when he spoke. And yet, so much of the journey was silent, the golden atmosphere shining under the summer sun. It was in this silence that Cherry noticed another thing about Collier, how he seemed a presence near you. Distinct and clear. Yet, he walked silently, indeed none of his equipment rattled or made a distinct noise, bar from the swish of fabric or his deliberate steps, somehow light despite his heavy boots and height. He had the presence of a hunter, even as he stood by you smiling like you were a decades old companion, he felt like a hare watched by a kitsune.[2]
They walked for a long while until they came close to the town, encountering a pair of young men with nets draped over their shoulders, one walking barefoot while the other wore sandals. Both wore plain yukata’s the one who wore sandals having his much more finely adjusted.
“Good morning my dear sirs,” Cherry declared, bowing to them as he offered a prayer to them, Collier smiling at them as he tipped his hat to the two men, who bowed in response, the barefooted man ducking out of it before the other and staring at Collier curiously. “I am currently traveling in hope to bring aid and enlightenment to myself and any I may meet. I am looking for Aisuge, am I correct in assuming it is this way?” gesturing with his staff as he smiled at the men, a wide Cheshire cat grin once again fixed on his face.
The man in sandals nodded, pointing down the path before he spoke, “yes, if you just follow this path, you will find it shortly,” he instructed, his words stilted as if he had trouble talking, though his face seemed quite intelligent.
“Thank you for your kindness, may the Buddha bless your endeavours,” Cherry bade them, a grace like that of a priest surrounding him as he did, bowing as he offered them a prayer. He spun and continued down the path determinedly while Collier stopped to talk to the, as he discovered, fisherman. Cherry walked on while Collier chatted to the two men about fishing spots, and what they recommended as certain baits for the area or where waterfowl tended to be. The town was much larger than the last one, the streets being paved and a few western style buildings rising out of construction sites, though not many. He smiled and waived at a few people as he passed, offering brusque but sincere prayers to them as he dashed to the post office, near single minded in his search.
He found it after a while, a rather small building made of wood constructed in a western style, comparatively new compared to the buildings that pressed against it on either side. A post man was walking out of the entrance as Cherry approached, tipping his hat to greet the Monk, rushing off to his deliveries. He pushed open the door and walked in, the clerk looking up from the newspaper he was reading with a surprised expression. He was a young man dressed in a postman’s uniform, a dark blue hakama with white kanji characters on it denoting his job, a white scarf pattered with flowers at the tips wrapped around his neck seemingly his own personal touch. His hair was done in a bowl-cut but with a trimmed back fringe, pitch black like ink. “Good afternoon,” he muttered weakly, offering a nervous smile to Cherry.
“Good afternoon,” Cherry replied kindly, smiling at the man with a look of zen on his face, “do you have any mail for a Nekomata Sakuranbou?”[3] He leaned over the man as he asked, a pensive smile pulled over his features.
The clerk seemed to settle down, and nodded jerkily, “yes, I do believe we have some mail for that name. I was wondering why the address was so strange,” he replied, rifling through a assortment of letters then picking one out, “but I suppose a wandering monk wouldn’t have one would he…?” he trailed off weakly, smiling at his own joke. His voice was frail, thin, seemingly straining just to be audible though he smiled at Cherry. His face then shifted into a harder expressions he pulled the letter away, almost shielding it with his person, “you are Nekomata-san? Aren’t you?” he questioned sternly squinting at the monk.
Cherry smiled at him still, rolling his eyes underneath his eyelids, “yes, I am, why else would I ask for that name?” Cherry responded, forcing his words to sound sweet, cocking his head at the man while he gripped his hands together, balancing his staff in the crook of his arm.
“You could want to know his information so that you could rob him,” the clerk offered innocently, Cherry cursing that the man didn’t get that the question was rhetorical, “or you could be trying to steal his identity, or wanting to curse him for despoiling the shrine you work at… Or you could be a yokai!” the young man cried excitedly, smiling giddily.
“I am not a yokai! I am a monk!” Cherry snapped indignantly, waiving his staff at the young man, who flinched back in response.
“A tanuki then? Though you being a Nekomata would be more obvious…” he again muttered weakly, still recoiled like a frightened cat, his arms splayed ahead of him.
“No!” Cherry again snapped, then calming down and sighing, “I’m just here for my mail please, I’m not a yokai, I am the Nekomata the letter is mean for,” he droned exhaustedly, wanting to move past the charade quickly.
The young man blinked then relaxed, “oh, yeah sure,” holding the letter out for the monk who quickly snatched it from his hands and tore it open, pouring over it quickly, panic in his eyes. Then he saw a specific line on the letter and visible slackened, his face relaxing significantly as he read on at a more leisurely pace. When he finished the letter he lowered it, a relived expression on his face as he tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.
“They’re alright,” he muttered serenely, smiling to himself as he turned back around to the clerk, now back by his desk. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper? I need to send a reply,” Cherry asked levelly, smiling slightly at the man.
The clerk flustered for a moment, “oh, yes, sure,” he babbled quickly, sifting through shelves to grab a piece of writing paper and an envelope before shoving the former towards the holy man.
“Thank you,” Cherry replied dignifiedly, drawing the piece of paper closer while he pulled out a yatate[4] from his belt, a beautiful piece made of shakudō[5], the metal having darkened into a deep black-indigo colour. He opened it and withdrew the brush from it, the smoking-pipe shaped piece holding it in its neck, and snapped open the lid of the ink box with his little finger before he pressed the brush’s bristles into the oil-damp cotton that was sat inside it. He pulled the genkō yōshi[6] paper under his pen and began writing.Cherry’s witing was somewhat scruffy, often taking liberties in how he would form kanji or katanaka where he assumed the letters recipient would know what he meant. His prose, however, was not lacking. The words he wrote were quite eloquent, though he flip-flopped between formality and closeness depending on who he mentioned in the letter. He finished after a moment, washing and drying the brush before slotting it back into its compartment and snapping shut the ink box before hiding it back around his belt.
“Please may you deliver this,” pressing the paper towards the clerk who was ready with an envelope, “to Nekomata __ , they live at the Buddhist temple near Yamagata. If you can’t find it, give the letter to Akisei Makoto, he’ll get it to her,” he instructed dully, seemingly used to giving these orders.
The clerk flashed a cheeky smile at his customer, “a letter to a fiancé or wife?” he asked slyly, but received a look of horror and disgust from the monk in response.
“It’s for my Onee-san[7],” he responded insulted, seeming to cringe away from the clerk.
“Ah, sorry,” the clerk blurted out flustered, looking somewhat hurt at his won joke reception regardless. He sealed the letter in an envelope and pulled stamp from a drawer in his desk, “Alright, that’ll be six yen,” the clerk declared, moving the stamp and letter towards Cherry, though keeping his hands on both. The skint monk looked at him silently for a moment, before shifting his staff to his other hand.
“My dear sir,” he began darkly bowing his back to he was closer to eye-level with the man, “I have neglected to inform you until now, but I believe you may be possessed by a spirit,” he fabricated, though the other man seemed to twitch at that, his scarf fluttering from the movement longer than it should’ve, though Cherry decided to put it aside for the moment. “But, I am more than willing and qualified to aid you. I simply need six yen to begin the exorcism,” he finished grandly, again his eyes being caught by the scarf around the clerk’s neck, now seemingly tighter than before. The clerk tugged at the scarf with one finger nervously while he smiled at Cherry, and uneasy smile on his face.
“N-no, I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, stammering slightly.
“Are you sure?” Cherry replied in slight surprise. Though how much of it was a show was anyone’s guess.
“Yes! I’m quite fine, but I don’t mind paying for your stamp! It’ll be delivered as soon as the postman comes back,” he babbled out nervously, squirming in his own clothes under the monk’s gaze. Cherry looked slightly perturbed in response, narrowing his eyes at the man to study him further.
“Very well… But, I must insist that you call for me if you need help with spirits or if you simply wish to talk,” the monk offered sincerely, a stern faced look on his face.
“Thank you for the offer, Nekomata-san,” he called back nervously as the monk moved to leave, chuckling slightly, “I’ll, uh, keep it in mind.”
“Thank you…” Cherry began to say as he left, trailing off as he came to the unknown of the clerks name.
“Okade,” the clerk blurted out, trying to rush out the monk.
“Okade-san, again I am more than willing to help. May you find great fortune,” he called as he spun to leave, waving to Okade with one hand as he gave his blessing. Okade stared out after the Buddhist as he left, placing a shaking hand on his scarf which shifted under his touch.
Cherry strode calmly out of the post office, glancing down at a cluster of young children who were playing near the patio’s edge. When the first one spotted him his face twisted into the shock horror of a student seeing their teacher outside of class, turning tale and running before he even considered telling his friends. A few other boys looked up, taking on similar looks and dashing away like petty thieves who spotted a policeman. They abandoned the rest.
“Children seem to take after sparrows”, Cherry muttered to himself, sauntering over to the remaining boys, along with one girl who had not been warned. He loomed over them watching what game they were playing. Marbles, it seemed. They had quite a few, ranging from dull clay to beautiful pattered glass. After a moment, the girl seemed to notice the shadow that now hung over them and looked up at Cherry, the other boys looking up as well. They all again stiffened, worried they would be told off or cursed.
“Who’s winning?” Cherry asked simply, a deadpan expression on his face, bar a slight smile at the corner of his lips. They looked perplexed at first but seemed to brighten up once they realized he was not there to scold them.
“I am!” the girl piped up in a boisterous tone, smiling a widely, revealing a pair of missing teeth, one on the left of her top jaw, the other on the right of her bottom jaw. One of the other boys, this one with shirt cropped hair, turned to her with an irate expression.
“That’s because you’re cheating! I’m winning really!” the boy accused her, looking up confidently as he finished his retort.
“No I am not!” the girl snapped shoving her face into the boys with a snarling expression.
“Yes you are!” the boy disputed. They continued on returning shots to each other as if passing a ball while the other boys looked at them boredly, likely having seen the performance multiple times before.
[1] Japanese name for Sakhalin, an island to the North of the Japanese Island of Hokkaido and to the East of the Russian region of Siberia around Vladivostok. Fully controlled by Russia after the Second World War.
[2] Kitsune, a type of Japanese Yokai (Spirit or monster), that looks like a fox. Some may have multiple tails.
[3] Cherry’s full name. Sakuranbou, his given name, means Cherry, which he prefers to be called. But, in Kanji it literally means ‘a deranged monk’. Nekomata, his family name, means ‘Cat Spirit’.
[4] A portable Japanese writing implement
[5]
[6]
[7] A Japanese honorific used to refer to ones older sister, or a female friend you are friendly with, with their permission.
@thewormsheep @ninety-s-kid @mimigoey @https-true-egoist @httpghostface @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @sleepy-gry
@shax-lied @shandzii @shark-smuggler
#creative writing#writeblr#writing#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#fiction#japan#i'm not japanese#if i make errors please god do advise me#i'm trying my best with wikipedia#google maps#and some documents#HMAD#the monk and the traveller#Elisah P Collier#Nekomata 'Cherry' Sakuranbou
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Alright you little shits open your ears it’s time for the pope
A couple things for clarification:
This is about the 2007 Sweeney Todd movie. There are enough differences that I am going to be largely disregarding the musical. Also I have not seen the musical, only the film.
Under no circumstances is any of this reasonable. Get used to it. There are no gods here, only wikipedia pages and a probably neurodivergent teenager.
I cannot read roman numerals. Unfortunately, those are kind of essential for the pope. Spare me some patience here, I am but a fucking idiot.
I understand that Pirelli lied about literally everything. I do not care.
Okay get a warm drink and a cat because this is long
So in Sweeney Todd there is a scene where Mrs. Lovett takes her local emo(one Sweeney Todd) out for a nice walk. They run into a cart where a small child(Toby) starts yelling at the crowd about a magical elixir that made his hair grow and how he’s selling it with this dude named Pirelli(remember that name) now. He tosses a few bottles out into the crowd to check out and a bottle makes its way to our coveted cannibalistic couple. Sweeney smells it and realizes that it’s not, in fact, magical and is instead made out of piss and ink. He kindly lets the crowd know and then this fuckin man bursts through the curtain and starts screaming.
Look at him. Look at him and tell me that god exists.
Anyway his name is Adolfo Pirelli and he brags a bunch about being a really good barber(see the sign behind him that I didn’t actually realize existed before taking that screenshot for this). Sweeney calls him out and says that he could shave a face better than Pirelli could and you can’t really back down from a challenge like that (actually Sweeney put him in a really tough spot there where he couldn’t say yes or no without destroying his reputation, it’s neat) so Pirelli flips his cape because his hair has so much gel in it that it’s basically made of stone at this point and agrees. Thus, the Pirelli Shaving Contest. They get two random dudes to be shaved and this dude named Beadle agrees to be the judge.
Pirelli does a shit job and loses but we don’t care about that right now because while he is singing about how good at shaving he is he says, and I quote(without writing out the horrible italian accent because I hold myself to a higher standard than that)
“Signorini, signori, you look at a man who have had the glory to shave the Pope! ‘Mister Sweeney-Whoever’, I beg your pardon, you’ll probably say it was only a cardinal no nope! It was the pope!”
Now this was a mistake on Pirelli’s part because he didn’t know that I have had a long-time obsession with learning about popes. I don’t even know how this started but I decided I would find out if he did(spoiler alert: he didn’t but this rant devolves into time travel so hear me out)
Luckily for me, Pirelli shows a picture of the Pope that he supposedly shaved.
Now this further cements that no. his ass did not shave the Pope. Infuriatingly, the pope only signed his name as “The Pope” and did not disclose which pope he actually was, so I was not told exactly which pope this could have been. I started my research.
First step in my descent into madness: Find out when Sweeney Todd takes place. Sounds simple right? Wrong, nothing is ever simple. I will spare you the anguish of trying to figure out when the movie takes place and tell you that it takes place in 1846. The Pope at the time was Pope Pius IX. He looked like this.
This could reasonably be the dude that Pirelli shaved. But in 1846, a fascinating event happened. The Pope changed. Now this doesn’t happen a lot because it is custom that when somebody becomes pope, they’re pope until they die. Technically, popes can retire but only two ever did: Pope Benedict XVI who retired back in 2013, and Pope Celestine V(one of my personal favorite popes, which is a totally normal thing to have), who retired in 1294.
Back to the topic at hand, the previous pope was Pope Gregory XVI. He looked like this:
Now, along with having all of the characteristics of one of God's least favorite creatures, he does not look like the pope that Pirelli claimed to have shaved. He died on June 1st, 1846 and Pope Pius IX promptly became pope afterward.
So Pope Pius IX became pope in June. Neat. That raises the horrible question: When in the year does Sweeney Todd take place?
Throughout the movie, it’s seems to be getting warmer, though true to london weather, it’s never actually sunny unless you’re in Mrs. Lovett's weird beach-dream-thing. As far as I know, it’s never stated what month(s) it is, though feel free to fact check me on that. I’m guessing it’s somewhere in March-May.
Now, time to put all of this together.
Pirelli claims to have shaved the Pope, showing a picture of future Pope Pius IX when the pope at the time would have been Pope Gregory XVI. Even if the Pirelli Shaving Contest happened after Pius became pope, he would not have had the credibility yet that shaving him would have meant much of anything.
The conclusion I have reached? Pirelli is a time traveler from a future time, possibly even being an older version of Toby himself, who, when he looked up who the pope was in 1846, found a technically correct answer and was lazy enough to run with it.
Alright I’m done. Technically there are a few more details to this that I found and a whole other story with the dates, but they aren’t actually as relevant as I would like and were removed for the sake of my sanity as I am writing this when I should be sleeping.
If anybody does want to hear my explanation of the plot of Sweeney Todd I would be happy to give it, it’s genuinely one of my favorite musicals. I’m sure my friends/boyfriend are getting sick of it at this point.
#sweeney todd#popes#im trying my best#Fun Fact! I was going to write and post this last week but the morning after I first talked about it I was struck down with a sickness#I couldn't even put on my glasses to see things or i would throw up#I can only assume that the world decided this did not deserve to exist#Fortunately I'm a dumbass who has never listened to anyone ever#frothing at the mouth:h.hey who wants to hear about my stupid little ideas#one of my hobbies is reading entire wikipedia pages#I've read the entire page on soup before
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hi, im doing some pokemon esque monster designs for fun (game concept design, not serious, more just "hehe funny amnimals") and all of them have alt designs/species. i would like jellyfish reccomendations!!!
In honour of the
compass jellyfish
I just posted about, I'd like to talk about it in a more coherent fashion!
It's a type of "sea nettle," which has the distinct shape most people think of when they think of jellyfish.
Other than those cool looking stripes, it's pretty normal except for the fact that it's a sequential hermaphrodite (which, despite some opinions I've seen online, is quite rare for a Schyzophoan jellyfish). After maturing into a medusa, it is a male- but eventually, as they grow older, it will develop female gametes.
Females will also provide shelter to the planula, rather than simply leaving them behind like other species of jellyfish.
I think the stripes could potentially be a fun design choice, by the off chance you decide to use this.
It seems to be one of the kinder species (despite having a nasty sting), so I could see this being a fairy type :).
Next up we have the “Egg Yolk Jellyfish,” similar to such species like the “Lion’s Mane” and such.
It’s cute :), but it also mainly predates on other sea jellies (or so the Monterey Bay Aquarium leads me to believe).
It also has a symbiotic relationship with larval crabs, offering some food/protection/mobility in return for the crabs eating the parasites :). I imagine this species could be like mantine and remoraid (also the idea of crabs being on top of/inside of jellyfish is absolutely adorable to me hehehe), perhaps a flying type in reference to this? Mobility stuff
There isn’t much information on this jellyfish (at least, not individually)- but I’d like to present to you the “Brown Banded Moon Jelly”:
It is pretty much similar to the A. aurita, minus the distinctive brown band lining the bottom of its bell (and usually prefers the colder seas).
In principle alone, it’s almost like a variant of what we consider “normal” moon jellies to be. Perhaps a ground/water type just for the mental image the brown might conjure?
Next up is “Nomura’s Jellyfish”, or echizen kurage, as it’s known in Japan.
Not only is it considered the largest cnidarian (growing up to 2 meters tall and weighing over 400 kg), but it’s also a bit of a menace- replicating in immense numbers and being an overall menace to the japanese fishing industry.
Naturally, it also has a nasty sting. Because of course it does. The japanese have tried to find uses for it by trying to make it commercially available as food, though that venture didn’t work (it’s still sold as ice cream tho :>, take that Vanillite!)
I’m not sure what kind of variant this could be, but I’m sure it would make a fine inspiration for a jellyfish pokemon :) (and honestly it kinda reminds me of Jellicent thanks to its size)
I’d love to ramble more about different jellies (I’ve only touched the surface on the various shapes that they can come in) but
I’ve definitely taken too much time on this so I think I’ll just end it off with a jellyfish that I used to revisit a lot but haven’t really talked about much, the “Cannonball Jellyfish” (Or the cabbage head jellyfish)
It’s pretty closely related to the likes of the Palau jelly and the Australian spotted jelly- though one aspect of this jellyfish really stood out to me:
It’s VERY big in the commercial jellyfish industry (for food, at least haha)- this one, at least, being Georgia’s 3rd largest seafood export (most of it going to Eastern and South Eastern Asia).
The name invokes the idea of grass type to me- so I feel like it could be one of those pokemon that happens to grow delicious food on it (like tropius or appletun). Perhaps a grass/water variant?
#long post#i hope i didn't get too rambly haha I don't really know much about your pokemon#currently in a rut when it came to working on my own jellyfish dating sim so I thought this would be a nice breather#tbh I still found myself rushing on this ask even tho I didn't really need to haha.#if you need some clarification or want some help researching different species- I'll try to help you to the best of my ability ^v^#most of my research is swiped straight from the internet until I get my jellyfish book next month but I think I'm quite good at finding-#-stuff about jellyfish in wikipedia :).#ask#mun rambles#jellyfish#good luck with your pokemon design btw! ik those are always fun :>
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Had a dream this morning that Archive of our Own had a Random button which would simply take you to a random fanfic, like Wikipedia has. (AO3 does not appear to really have this, I checked and couldn't find one, but I kinda wish they did.) Someone had started a game where whatever fic you got, that was your new fandom, which is very fun! I would love this meme in real life.
The problem came in where so many people used the button that it broke and just started sending everyone to Stealing Harry, and like...I have fond memories of Stealing Harry but it's not my best work and nobody should be assigned to be a Harry Potter fan in this day and age.
So I decide to go off and find Astolat and demand she fix this but when I finally did (there was a whole quest) she turned to me like the baddie in a horror flick and said, "But that's the most random story there is" in a dark voice and I was terrified and woke up.
In the cold light of day I know there are more random stories by me on the archive, let alone by others, but I'm not going to try to get back there to argue my case. Pretty sure whatever I spoke to was actually the demon specifically assigned to plague fandom and not Astolat at all.
I'd say "get thee behind me, demon" but I know just how many porny fics on AO3 begin with that premise. (I've written some.) Begone foul spirit, and take your Satanic Panic with you!
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Anybody know how to request updates on wikipedia pages? Like, the real-life pages, not the fandom ones.
#peanut’s college adventures#i'm TRYING to write a PAPER about it#and guess what?#the page for the thaynes formation has NOTHING#it's just like 'oh yeah this formation exists i guess' and has one source#ONE. SOURCE.#and it's not even about who first described and named it!#i've been doing a LOT of reading about it lately for my research project and I can tell you a lot more than wiki could#driving me a little batty tbh#like i know wikipedia's not the best place to go for scientific/college research. i get it. but the references are where it's at#and this page has none#it doesn't even list the full extent of the formation smh. 'oh uhh it's in idaho and montana'#THIS IS GREAT BASIN ERASURE#do i have the time to edit the wiki page? no. does it bug me anyway? yes#all my time is spent studying/looking through a microscope/goofing off playing minecraft bc it's too late in the day for an instant release#someday i'm gonna have some free time and just go ham with it#with permission ofc#so they don't just remove all my additions. that would suck#edit: LMAO just about every source i'm finding mentions utah or nevada#hardly montana or wyoming or idaho hahahaha
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hi hello! i recall you talking about how you used to have an unhealthy dependence on attention you got from the internet a while ago, and was wondering if you had any tips on how to help with that? i recently found myself sorta relying too much on the affirmation i get from Numbers Going Up and i wanna nip it in the bud before it becomes a Thing. thank you! ^^
i found that the best way to curb the addiction was to wean myself off it bit by bit. start with something small and achievable, like setting a time limit for how long you spend online in one sitting (set a timer to help you if necessary), or setting aside specific free periods in the day when you can check your notifications or whatever, then gradually limit it further until you've reached a point you're comfortable with. you'll find that the more you stick to the goals you've set for yourself, the more it'll start to feel like a reward and substitute for the affirmation you get from number go up (and you'll start to pay more attention to how you spend your limited time and what are the best ways to do so).
place your phone or laptop or whatever device you use for social media out of sight while doing other activities, so that you have to make the conscious effort to seek them out (and thus consider whether you really want to do it) (if i'm trying to concentrate on something, for example, i'll put my phone in a drawer or in my bag/pocket, and make sure i can't hear or see any notification messages). if you feel you can, turn off or temporarily mute your notifications - that works wonders for me.
use the free time you've created for yourself to seek out things you've always wanted to do but never felt like you had the time for. read the book you've been putting off, write something, draw something, get into that crafting hobby, or go for a walk and feed some birds at the pond, go out and challenge yourself to take a photo of something eyecatching to share with your friends, go to a cafe, meet up with a friend, try out that recipe you saved because you thought it sounded nice, look into social groups, events and clubs that cater to your interests/hobbies in your local area - even make use of the time you'd normally spend on social media to do something else online, like wikipedia deep diving, watching a show, or replying to that person you forgot to get back to.
above all, don't beat yourself up along the way. take each day as it comes and each relapse as motivation to keep pushing forwards and make it a little longer between the next one. don't blame yourself for what you can't change (the past) but try to focus on what you can (the future).
#hope this helps!#recognising you need to change something is a great first step so youre on the right path
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Hello from the other side of the world. Could you share a little about hiraeth? It's okay if not, I know you said it was hard to explain, but I'm guessing the Wikipedia article is, ah, very simplistic.
What was the feeling that made it silent like a church? Introspection? Was it because of the specific music of tha song, or is the subject of hiraeth always this impactful?
Sorry if this is dumb or insensitive or something, I really know next to nothing about Welsh culture (my country wasn't even invaded by the British Empire, if you can believe it), but that part of the story really stood out to me, and the way you explained it so casually to your friend and he seems to have just understood makes me feel like I'm missing a very big piece of context.
Anyway, thanks for sharing your adventures and shenanigans with us, and it's okay if this is too complicated for right now.
The number of places Britain didn't try to colonise is so low that makes you a unicorn, I think. Congrats!
Happy to explain though, no worries. Part of it is the song itself, which is worth a listen to get the vibe; I do mean a bit of a hush fell over the moderately busy restaurant. It's got hella vibes.
But yes, hiraeth is a very important concept in Welsh. The best translation is 'homesickness', or maybe 'yearning', but it's more complex and nuanced than that. Sort of hard to explain. I've seen it used to describe the urge Welsh people get, when they've been away from Wales for too long, to reconnect; to journey back and climb a mountain and look down into the valley and let your soul heal. I've seen it described as the feeling of bone-deep belonging, the sense of coming home that some people feel who visit Wales for the first time, and find it speaks to them. The land reaching out for the soul, the mountains into the mind. That's hiraeth.
(There's a poem that turns up on Welsh tourist tea towels a lot, no idea where from, but it sums it up as: "To be born Welsh is to be born privileged. Not with a silver spoon in your mouth, but with music in your blood and poetry in your soul.")
I've also seen it described in internet memes as "longing for a home you can never return to", which in typical Anglophone fashion, is almost right while fundamentally misunderstanding and stripping away the most important part. Because it's the longing for a Wales we can never return to. The version of our past, without English occupation, that can never exist again. Thanks to Wales having had a fairly complex cultural and historical makeup, we were not unified as a single country until after English occupation; plenty of unified elements existed before that (uniting under a dragon to drive out the invading Saxons, for example), but not what in the modern day we'd understand as a country. But we ARE a country now; so it's a sort of shared dream. The country we could have been, should have been, can never be. The lost version of us.
That's hiraeth. It's all hiraeth. And it's all specifically Wales.
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porch swing angel
i literally stalked quinn's wikipedia page for this because i wasn't entirely sure about when he moved and where he played and stuff but hopefully this information is all correct
i was planning on writing this for someone else but decided to change it to quinn and then it worked out perfectly because someone sent me a request that helped me make the fic longer and so much cuter and i was going to release it in celebration because quinny is captain but…
quinn hughes x reader
words: 4,290
masterlist
quinn had known for a long time that he loved you. it seemed like a dumb schoolboy crush on his classmate and next-door neighbor at first, but as he grew older, he realized the depth of his feelings. of course, he was fourteen when the realization came to him, so he kept the emotions to himself, too scared to let you find out how he truly felt. by that time, your families had become too intertwined, taking vacations together, often having dinner together, you and quinn were best friends and so were luke and your brother. he couldn't stand the fact of you rejecting him and him being forced to still constantly see you, knowing he couldn't have you.
when quinn told you that he would be moving to michigan, he was nervous. he didn't want to lose contact with you, but he was moving to a different country and would be busy focusing on furthering his hockey skill. but he knew he couldn't hold off on telling you forever, so he took a deep breath and knocked on your front door. your mom answered it, pulling him into a hug and offering her congratulations. of course ellen had told her the news, but made sure she knew that quinn wanted to tell you himself. she seemed to take in his nervous state, knowing exactly why he was here.
"she's in her room. don't worry, she'll be so proud of you." quinn gave a little nod, making his way down the hallway toward your room. your mom watched with a small smile on her face. her and ellen always joked that they wouldn't be surprised if you and quinn ended up together, but they weren't the type of moms that would ever tell you or quinn that. well, not unless it actually happened.
you looked up when quinn entered your room, smiling for a moment until you took in his expression. your face immediately fell into a concerned expression, sitting up from where you had been laid on your stomach doing homework.
"quinny, what's wrong?" you could tell he was trying to avoid eye contact, and it was starting to make you nervous as well.
"um, i need to tell you something."
"you can always tell me anything," you urged. he nodded, but stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out if he should sugarcoat it or just blurt it out. he thought he had figured out what he was going to say before he came over, but all thoughts had left his head.
"i'm moving," he finally said, causing you to pout slightly.
"you aren't gonna be next door anymore?"
"i'm, uh, not going to be in the country anymore." he watched your body tense and you went silent. normally quinn could read you like a book, but now he had no idea what the expression on your face was conveying.
"what?"
"i'm moving to michigan," he said softly. you still didn't move, so he kept talking, trying to alleviate the situation. "the rest of my family is staying here though so you still have them that you'll see every day. i'm just moving because i'm joining this hockey development team and it'll be really good for me. a lot of the players have been drafted and dad said-" he stopped talking when you stood from the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. he slowly let his arms wrap around your back, hugging you back.
"you're gonna do amazing," you whispered to him, though he could hear the shake in your voice and knew you were tearing up.
"maybe you can come to a game once with my parents," he whispered back. you pulled away just enough to smile at him, your eyes watery.
"i wouldn't miss it for the world."
you kept good on your word, accompanying the hughes family to quinn's first game with the team, making sure he knew just how proud of him that you were. he wanted to tell you then and there that he loved you. seeing you in his jersey, standing with his family, eyes full of tears because he was in front of you again instead of on a screen, he could've sworn he had never seen anyone more beautiful. but then he shook his head, shaking away the thoughts and reminding himself that tomorrow you would be going back to toronto.
the school year was rough, both of you adjusting to not having the other just a short walk away. but being able to watch quinn's games and call him whenever you were both free gave a sense of security. however, you were nearly vibrating with excitement when your dad turned the car into the neighborhood you spent every summer in, the neighborhood that was home to the hughes' lake house. you were bolting out of the car as soon as it was put in park, barrelling in through the front door and only stopping to look around and locate him. quinn was sat on the couch, looking up with wide eyes at the intruder. before he could realize it was you, you were running at him, throwing yourself into his lap and pulling him into a tight hug.
"you're here," he stated, almost as if he didn't believe it.
"i missed you."
"i missed you too."
"can i move in with you in michigan this year? don't want to let you leave again." quinn let out a breathy laugh, knowing you were slightly serious but also knowing you both knew it wasn't possible.
"yeah, don't worry, y/n. we'll just get all your bags for you!" your bother called out, dragging your bag through the front door and hitting the table that sat in the entryway.
"thanks, mikey!" you shouted back, your grip on quinn still not letting up.
you and quinn spent the whole summer practically attached at the hip. you both had so much time to make up for and time to cram in before you had to part again. your moms thought it was adorable, and frequently wondered how long it would take for you two to get together. they couldn't help but awe and take pictures when they found the two of you tangled up on the couch asleep or when you made quinn put on more sunscreen when out on the boat. however, you both spent most of your time out on the front porch, side by side on the swing that hung there. you would read or color sometimes, and sometimes quinn would join you or he’d just sit in silence. but usually, it was just the two of you catching up and talking. if the conversation would slow, it was never an uncomfortable silence, both of you happy to just sit with the other until another topic appeared. quinn often thought about confessing his feelings during the lulls in conversation, but he always pushed them back, still too afraid to ruin everything and lose you.
it was a tearful goodbye at the end of the summer, but you both promised to stay in touch, and for you to come to any games you were able to when his family came to visit him. he came home for holidays and you went to three of his games. one of his games happened to fall on your birthday, and ellen and jim's present to you was flying you to michigan so you were able to celebrate together. unfortunately, after that weekend in march, you didn't see each other again until your family arrived at the lake house in june.
your entrance wasn't as quick as it was the year before, as you were nervous. you had news to tell quinn, and even though it was exciting, you still had your anxieties about breaking it to him. you were sure his parents already knew, considering they knew anything your parents did and vice versa, so once you put your bags in your room, you took off to quinn's room to find him.
"you're here!" he cheered, standing up from the bed and pulling you into a hug. despite your nerves, you had a huge smile on your face and quinn's lips mirrored it. he only pulled away once he had hugged you long enough to make up for all of the times he wanted to hug you over the past few months, and when he noticed your outfit, his smile turned into a small smirk. he pulled at the hem of the crewneck you wore, navy with yellow lettering across the chest that advertised for the university of michigan. "already trying to support me, i see."
it was common knowledge that quinn was going to be playing for the hockey team at the university. he had verbally committed there before he even left to play for the development team. your smile turned sheepish though as you knew this was the perfect time to tell him your news.
"well, yes, but i also have to support my college too." quinn paused, as if he was taking in the information.
"wait. your college?"
"quinn, i have to tell you something," you said, repeating the same words he had said to you two years ago.
"you're moving to michigan?" he asked, almost as if he was out of breath.
"you'll show me around, right?" he was immediately pulling you back into his arms, a laugh escaping him.
"oh my god, you're moving to michigan." you spent the rest of the day talking about dorm assignments, classes, and things to do near campus with quinn and all of your parents. and not even your dad, the most oblivious person in the world, could miss the way that quinn was beaming at you the whole time.
quinn found you the next morning out on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket to combat the chilly morning air. he sat down silently, not wanting to disturb your peace or make you lose focus on the book you were reading. previously, the swing had been still, as your legs were curled up underneath you. now, quinn rocked you back and forth slowly. he winced at the creaking of the chain links moving against each other, but when you just smiled softly instead of wincing at the noise, he continued without a worry. you finished your chapter, then slid your bookmark into place and let the book rest on the small table placed next to the swing.
"do you want to go get some breakfast at the diner? i think it might be a while before anyone else wakes up." truthfully, quinn wanted nothing more than to stay here with you by his side. but his stomach was starting to growl and you would be going with him, so he nodded.
"yeah, that sounds good."
"let me go put on some makeup and then we can go." quinn groaned as you stood up, so you stopped and turned back around to face him. "what?"
"how many times do i have to tell you that you look perfectly fine without it?" you sighed, knowing he told you that all the time. "plus we're going out on the boat later, you're just gonna have to take it back off before we go out." you rolled your eyes, shaking your head.
"fine, let me get my keys." you walked into the house, returning a moment later with no blanket and quinns keys. "actually, i've decided that you're driving." quinn took the keys that you held out to him, grumbling as he stood up and followed you to his car.
it was later that night that you both found yourselves on the swing again. your hair was still wet from the shower you had taken after getting off the water, and quinn's shoulders and face were slightly pink from the sun. you scooted into his side and let your head fall onto his shoulder as you watched the sky turn hues of pink and orange, the sun slowly disappearing behind the houses across the street.
"are you excited to play for michigan this fall?" you asked softly, tired from the day you had spent under the sun.
"i'm more excited that you're gonna be there with me," he said, a smile growing on both of your faces.
"i'm excited to be there with you, too." you yawned, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, and then you slowly stood and stretched. "i think it's time for bed." you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "see you in the morning, quinny." quinn watched you walk inside, sighing when he door closed behind you. the fact that he couldn't call you his was killing him, but it would hurt him even worse if he ruined everything between you two by telling you the truth. he sat on the swing for a while, just listening to the crickets and the frogs and the sounds of the night as he thought about what it would be like to officially be yours.
the rest of the summer flew by, the time out on the boat, big family dinners, and nights out on the porch swing passing too quickly for anyone’s liking. on your last night before you’d have to go back and pack everything to move, you found yourself cuddled into quinn’s side on the porch swing once again. he had been gently rocking the both of you as you watched the sun set, but it was long gone by now and the stars were shining bright overhead.
“can’t believe that i’m gonna see you again in a week,” you admitted, causing quinn to smile.
“it’ll be just like old times.”
“well, you’ll be on the next floor instead of next door but… better than the next country i guess.” quinn let out a little laugh. it fell silent again for a bit until quinn was speaking up.
“i need to tell you something.” you looked up at him, letting him know you were listening, but quinn started to panic. he hadn’t really meant to say that out loud, but he knew you would just urge him to tell if he tried to play it off. “um…” you scooted away a bit so you could look at him easier.
“don’t tell me you’re changing your mind about college,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood and hopefully ease his visible nerves. he let out a small laugh.
“no, i’ll still be a floor above you.”
“good.” he glanced over your face, taking in all of your features as if he would never get to see them again. and maybe he wouldn’t after he told you the truth. maybe you would decide that you wanted nothing to do with him and ask your parents to leave tonight instead of tomorrow morning. you reach out, lacing your fingers with his. “you can tell me anything, quinn,” you reminded him softly. he gave a small nod, looking down at your intertwined hands for a moment and then back at you. you gave him a soft smile, and he swore that was what gave him the confidence to finally say the words.
“i love you, so fucking much. it kills me to have to sit here and pretend that i don’t, to continue on with us being friends. i want more than that. i want to be able to wake up next to you in the morning and fall asleep holding you at night. i want to be able to tell everyone that you’re my girlfriend and watch them get jealous because they’ve realized they don’t have a chance with the most amazing girl in the world because she’s already taken. i want you to be in the stands of all of my games, wearing my last name and number on your back and i want to be able to publicly dedicate all my goals to you.” he stopped, taking a few breaths since he hadn’t taken many during his rambling. you took that as your opportunity to speak up without interrupting him.
“do you want to kiss me?”
“what?” he asked, not expecting you to say anything, let alone that.
“right now. do you want to kiss me?”
“i’ve wanted to kiss you since i was fourteen,” quinn admitted.
“then i think it’s long overdue, don’t you?” he nodded, but didn’t make a move. he had too many thoughts running through his head to really process what was happening. so with a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you cupped his cheek and pulled his lips to yours, finally fulfilling a dream the both of you had had for years. you pulled away with a smile, one that quinn was mirroring.
“does this mean you’re officially mine?” he asked, and you laughed as you nodded.
“i’ve always been yours, quinn hughes. you just didn’t know it.” he pulled you back into another kiss, but it was broken up a few seconds later by a scream of “it happened!” coming faintly from inside. you noticed the curtain in the window behind you both move slightly from the corner of your eye and quinn looked at you.
“was that my mom?”
“i believe so, yeah,” you responded, before both of you burst into laughter.
the school year flew by almost as fast as the previous summer had. but now quinn didn’t have to fret over his feelings, you knew he loved you and he knew you loved him. you both spent too much time in the others dorm room when you were free from classes and hockey, making your friends and roommates fake gag at how the two of you acted. you made sure to go to every home hockey game, though you only wore quinn’s jersey once or twice and not every game, and quinn made sure to find you in the stands after every goal he scored. you had to admit, your life seemed so much better with quinn in it again, which is why you were so nervous for summer to roll around.
while summer had been the time of year you had looked forward to for the past two years, this year was a bit different. this year, summer was kicking off with a trip to dallas for the draft. quinn was projected to go early, and as proud of him as you were, you knew that meant you would be losing him again. you had just gotten him and now he would be going to some random city that wanted him to play for them? the chance that he would go to detroit and stay close to you was slim, but you silently and selfishly hoped it would happen. or maybe he would go to toronto. you wouldn’t mind following him back to your hometown. quinn could tell you were nervous as you sat next to him. your hands had a death grip on the armrests of your seat. he silently reached over and let his hand fall to your thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. you knew he was struggling with the thought of moving again too. his family had just moved to michigan, you were in michigan, why would he want to leave? but the excitement overpowered the nerves as his name was announced, even if it was a team on the other side of the continent. you stood, waiting for him to turn to you after hugging his mom before wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.
“i’m so proud of you,” you said, trying to hold back happy tears. “seventh overall!” you pulled away, knowing he needed to get going onto stage, and watched as he gave a few more hugs before going up and getting his jersey and hat. ellen scooted over into quinn’s empty seat so she was now beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“back to canada he goes,” she said softly, pulling you into her side.
“back to canada he goes,” you repeated, though your tone was slightly sadder. you didn’t get to see quinn again until later that night, but you were glad you got to see some of his friends and former teammates walk onto stage and get their jerseys as well. when you all finally met up with quinn, you let him have his time with his family first, hanging back so you were out of the way. when he finally made his way to you though, you couldn’t help the tears that lined your eyes again when he pulled you into another hug.
“don’t cry,” he whispered, hearing you try to softly sniffle.
“you’re going to vancouver,” you said as quietly as possible, not wanting everyone around you to know just how upset you were. he pulled away enough to wipe the stray tears from your cheeks and shake his head.
“i’ll be in michigan for at least another year, baby. i’m not leaving right away.”
“you’re not?”
“course not. i couldn’t just pack up and leave you alone.” you gave him a smile and a quick peck. maybe this summer wasn’t as bad as you originally thought it would be. sure, quinn had to leave for development camp and his dad was pushing the training with his brothers and their friends a little harder, but he wasn’t completely gone just yet, so you didn’t mind the short absences. then the school year started and it was like everything was back to normal. you had an apartment and quinn had a house but you still spent way too much time at each others places. everyone knew you as quinn’s girl and those who didn’t were, in fact, jealous when they found out. but then march rolled around and quinn had to break the news.
“you’re what?”
“as soon as our season is done.” you gasped at him, not expecting this information.
“what about your foot? how can you play like that? what if you fuck it up permanently just because you’re trying to push your debut?” you were grasping at straws, knowing fully well the league wouldn’t let him debut if he wasn’t in perfect shape.
“babe-“
“quinn, i don’t want to say goodbye again!” you said defeated, tears starting to roll down your cheeks.
“i don’t either, i promise. but i have to go. we knew this was coming.” you stood from your spot on the bed, wrapping your arms and holding him tightly as you sobbed. the sounds made tears spring to quinn’s eyes as well but he did his best to hold himself together. he knew this was going to be hard but he wasn’t even officially saying goodbye yet and he was hurting worse than he ever had before. he supposed it was because he knew he was breaking your heart and there wasn’t anything he could do to fix it.
“are we breaking up?” you asked softly, your voice rough from the crying. quinn’s body tensed at the thought.
“do you want to break up?”
“i don’t want to lose you at all,” you admitted, squeezing him tighter.
“i don’t want to lose you either.” so you stayed together, the actually goodbye being much more tearful and heartbreaking than when he broke the news. it was especially hard knowing you couldn’t be there for his first game, as it fell right in the middle of midterms. you watched from your living room, forcing your roommates to watch with you. you made sure to call him after, commenting on every little thing he had done and making sure he remembered how proud of him you were. that was how it went for the rest of the season, you watching him from home and calling him after the game, talking about how they played and counting down the days until you would see each other. suddenly, summer was your favorite season again.
your entrance to the lake house was much like it was that first summer you were able to reunite with quinn. you sprinted out of the car, only stopping long enough to locate your boyfriend, before you were running over to where he stood in the kitchen and jumping into his arms. you didn’t care that jack was stood next to you both, you pulled quinn into a long, passionate kiss that had jack pretending to vomit and then leave the area. you were out of breath when you pulled away, but you didn’t let that stop you from breaking your news.
“im transferring to ubc. i’m moving to vancouver.” he looked at you in shock for a moment, not expecting that to be the first thing you said to him, but then he gave a small smile.
“you don’t have transfer just to follow me. if you want to be at michigan-“
“i feel like i just got you quinny. i’m not letting you go again.”
“you’ve been dating for almost two years!” jack shouted from the living room, but you both ignored him.
“you really want to move to vancouver for me?” he asked, and you nodded.
“i love you.”
“move in with me.” now it was your turn to be shocked.
“what?”
“it’ll save you some money. rent money and gas money because we both know you’ll always be at my place anyway.” you smiled widely, nodding your head. “yeah? you wanna live together?”
“yeah, i wanna live together.” now quinn was the one pulling you into a long kiss. “i have one condition though,” you said, once again out of breath.
“what’s that?” you smiled widely, knowing he wouldn’t be able to disagree with you.
“we have to have a porch swing.”
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i love the carlos theory, but is there evidence??
we must see - for scientific purposes, of course 👀
Apologies at how long it has taken me to prove my theory, but I come bearing proof of Carlos' twinkishness!
Firstly, we must consider the definition of twink. This is what wikipedia describes a twink as:
So how does this apply to Carlos? First, let's focus on having a slim physique. Carlos definitely fits this descriptor. I know a lot of you will think I am crazy. 'But Carlos is buff!' You will say. However, this is a misconception. Consider the following;
See how skinny his upper body is compared to his race suit? In the bottom image you can see its like a centimetre or two thick fabric which pads him out a bit. I think the video of him walking to the podium after Miami 2022 really exemplifies this:
I think because we usually see Carlos in a race suit, we perceive him as bulkier. Not convinced by this alone? Lets actually compare him to an F1 driver usually called a twink, Charles.
See how they're actually about the same size and body shape? If anything, Carlos has a slimmer waist than Charles, and both are about the same in terms of muscle. Lets compare him with an F1 driver not considered a twink by the masses, Pierre in terms of muscle:
Carlos is pretty bulky arm wise, but just look at how crazy huge and defined Pierre's muscles are. If you look at more pictures of Pierre he's much bigger than Carlos or Charles in size. Look at this guy!
So if Carlos is closer to Charles, a known twink, than Pierre, i think its safe to say he is much more twinkish than we give him credit for. But i'm not even done. Carlos has in fact been DECEIVING you by being an athlete and having muscles, under all that he is built like a twig. You can see this when he was younger. Look at this. If you're willing to do some digging back to his karting days, you can see before he started lifting he was weirdly long and built fairly skinny.
So that completes the 'slim' part. Next is youthful appearance/age. Carlos is nearly 30, but as Wikipedia states you don't have to be an older teen or in your early twenties to be a twink. It's about the presentation, and Carlos certainly fits that youthful vibe with his always messy hair, toothy smile, and big eyes. He also likes to rough house and push people around as a sign of affection, which just screams young guy to me lol.
Next is body hair. I admit my theory hits a slight snag here, as we all know Carlos is hairy af. However, we also all know he's dedicated to waxing every last piece of chest hair off. It's harder to find a picture of a hairy Carlos compared to the many pictures of him with no body hair at all. So I think we can say he's pushing himself towards a twink vibe with this. (below picture isn't the best to illustrate how much he shaves his chest i just think its funny)
Finally, flamboyancy. Defined as 'tending to attract attention because of their exuberance, confidence, and stylishness.' This is Carlos to a T. He's always confident, perhaps not super 'stylish' but he does have a good dress sense and seems to know what clothes suit him, and he's been proven to be quite excitable and exuberant when hanging out with friends. I think his hypercompetitiveness shows this as well. Is this picture not the epitome of careless confidence and flamboyance?
So. There is my evidence. Agree or disagree as you will. I will say he is probably more a twunk than all out twink, but he for sure has some twink in him. Here's a few last pictures to really try and convince you, but for now, ciao.
#the fact that i spent like 40 minutes proving why Carlos is a twink and not studying is probably why i failed one of my exams#f1#formula 1#carlos sainz#carlos sainz jr#f1blr#charles leclerc#pierre gasly
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Now, why would you dare me to embarrass you and your pals like that?
I appreciate how you wanted my attention so bad you posted me to not one, but two subreddits.
Makes a girl feel special! 🤣
I have actually never seen Wikipedia cited as a source about endogenic plurality. Though I do see anti-endos all the time, when asked for sources, telling people to just Google things.
Anyway, here's @guardianssystem's document filled with academic papers about endogenic plurality:
I've compiled my own, but honestly, theirs is better organized than mine.
And in the interest of fairness, here are all the anti-endo papers debunking endogenic plurality:
Sorry, I forgot. Those don't exist. Oops. 🤷♀️
Echo chamber? LOL!
Weren't you the one spouting a bunch of lies on Tumblr, got totally debunked, posted the people who debunked you to r/systemscringe to have a hugbox where fakeclaimers could assure you how the people who contradicted you are all fakers, and then blocked everyone who disagreed with you?
Weren't you also the one who, when shown a quote from an expert in dissociative disorders who worked on the DSM-5 saying that a disorder isn't a disorder if it doesn't cause distress, argued that the people who defined what disorder are must be wrong about that definition?
You're a misinformation machine who can only find support when huddled in cringe subreddits. Don't try to talk about people in echo chambers.
Also, you know most of psychology is just... listening to people? That's how it's been as long as the field existed. DID (or MPD at the time) was a recognized disorder since long before the first brain scans were conducted on DID patients. It's saying something though when basically every single scientist who has ever researched endogenic plurality has said they believe it's a real thing, or that it could be. While absolutely zero academic papers have expressed that it's fake.
There is also an fMRI study into tulpa systems that's been in the works, but results have yet to be published.
Sure, if that's what you'd like me to call you, Crazy. 😊
Anyway, Crazy, you should know that just because you personally find something scary doesn't mean everyone will or that the thing is bad. Personal preferences are a thing.
In a study of tulpamancers though, most generally reported their lives becoming better after the practice.
78% reported improvements in their mental health, and 91% on overall life.
There are many out there who would jump at the chance to have someone there with them that knows them intimately, and to never have to be alone again.
If it's not for you, then so be it.
But it's certainly not something to be afraid of.
And maybe, for those who are willing to commit to the practice while America struggles with an epidemic of loneliness, it's something worth being open to.
This is actually pretty fair.
But that's now, and I'm looking at course of history and trends of plural acceptance.
300 years ago, any plural would be viewed as demon possessed and end up tortured or killed for their plurality.
70 years ago, all plurality was seen as a mental illness, and it was common to force plurals, as well as anyone else associated with mental illnesses, into asylums.
30 years ago, the first real plural communities were able to connect on the internet and form in small numbers.
8 years ago, the first studies into endogenic plurality started being conducted. 4 years ago, the ICD-11 acknowledged that you could have multiple distinct personality states without a disorder. 2023 marked the first, but certainly not the last, time a system used their system name as an author of an academic paper.
Recently, new plural resources have been designed and put into use. More servers than ever are using Pluralkit. And Simply Plural went from 100k users at the end of 2021 to 210k at the end of 2022.
Progress is happening far more rapidly than you realize. And you had best be ready for it.
BOO! 👻
Oh, hey, I just realized... this is literal pluralphobia!
Liberté!
Egalité!
Fraternité!
And yes, The Future is Plural! 😜
#syscourse#plural#plurality#pro endo#pro endogenic#endogenic#systems#multiplicity#plural system#endogenic system#system stuff#plural community#systemscringe#fake disorder cringe#r/systemscringe#sysblr#system things#actually plural#actually a system#the future is plural#I dare you to post this to your hate subs! 😝
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A lot of spelling mistakes, the plot is all over the place ngl.
Keep in mind English is not my first language!
Danny was immortal, he couldn't die. Well, he couldn't die by old age. His human form won't die naturally and it won't age either.
So, when all of his family, friends and just quite everyone he knew died, he was left alone. But his family and his two best friends still haven't moved on, Danny was their unfinished business. So, like a good normal family, they decided to haunt Danny! Which is cute, but also can be seen as something horrifying if you don't know the context.
So, 85 years later, Danny still changes last name everytime he needs to (so about every 4 years), jumping from foster family to foster family. He moved to state to state, never staying in the same state for too long.
And in 85 years, a lot has happened.
Here's what changed with the world :
Superheroes and metahumans/non-humans are way way more accepted in society.
A lot of big city appeared such as, Gotham and Blüdhaven in Jersey, Central City in Missouri, Metropolis in Illinois, Amnesty Bay in Maine, Blue Valley in Nevada, Coast City in California, Dakota City in well...Dakota. Fawcett City, Star City..etc..etc..
All of these have also something particular, they're home to a hero and said hero works for the JL, known as the Justice League.
Danny wasn't really interested in hero-ing anymore, after all, there was people literally paid by the government to do that, so why would he do charity work? Of course he'll help if there's a catastrophe, but he'll just help the civilians get to safety, that's all.
Life kind of sucked for Danny. He couldn't get attached by people too much because he'll know he's going to outlive all of them, so why even bother trying?
Danny needed to find a new place to stay, preferably a big city, and in a state he didn't appear this year.
Danny decides to pick Metropolis, it's one of the safest option after all, Superman does his work pretty well, and casualties and crimes rate are really really low there..plus, Sam kept pestering him asking him to meet Lois Lane. (Danny needed to do an essay about journalism for some reason, and he stumbled across Lois Lane Wikipedia page, she was quite the character.)
Sam instantly took a liking to her, she's everything she aspires to be.
Tucker, him, seemed interested in Lex corp, not in a “Oh, I'm so so fan of him!” kind of way, but more in a “His technology is one of the best in the world, he could easily rival against WE.” kind of way.
His parents and Jazz were guiding him, telling him what to not do, and what to do, sometimes they argue, sometimes they stay quiet, sometimes Danny tune them out, can't blame him honestly, if a psychologist was always nagging me, telling me what to say, and doing some unnecessary rant about whoever's is talking to Danny body language I would want to tune them out too.
But they're mostly trying their best..and Danny can't blame them for that.
His parents always did a “ability checkup test ” and it's basically Danny just flying around, shooting his blasts, doing a ectoplasm shield, duplicating...just testing all of his powers to see if they're all okay.
Which, they always are but his parents keep pushing him to do it, and he always agree just to make them shut up.
Danny found a new ability, something he deemed impossible to do, he can fly, he has his strength, his speed, his stamina and his reflexes but, with his human form.
But everything else that works with ectoplasm or his ghost core he didn't have.
So he was basically a less powerful version of him, which, sucks, but it's kinda cool.
His family were ecstatic and so was he! Plain old Danny could be more..but no, he has to stay low. Otherwise he's going to get found by Vlad, or worse.
Danny does something, extremely stupid, but fun for him.
He decides to fly in Metropolis, but just high enough so no one could see him! Even though Danny has the same powers when he's Danny Phantom, it's different, it's weird, he has his core to help him concentrate, hearing the frost in there soothe his nerves, and help him get focused.
But, it's different, he has his slow beating of his heart, which is quiet, really really quiet, it's drowning against the noises of the city
He can't focus he can't focus he can't-
Danny starts falling, which is okay because he can just turn into Danny Phantom and easily get out of this shitty situation, but noo, Danny had, and still has the shittiest luck ever.
Superman catch him, of fucking course.
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Any tips on how to correctly credit clips used in YTP? I'm very lost when it comes to finding copyright info and stuff like that.
The stakes are pretty low for YouTube Poop and crediting clips in the video/description is not standard practice - but it's a good thing to do! That said I am not an authority on this and even my method has some blind spots. These are just some generally good ideas for being a slightly-more-courteous-than-average shitposter.
The acknowledgement is the most important part, stating outright what the names of the sources are. Pay attention to the official titles of what you use and try to trace them to their original form - for example in The Price is Rice COMPLETE I wanted to credit the gamer-themed Dust-Off commercial I used in The Price is Rice Jr. Usually ads are more difficult to track down than other kinds of televised media, so often "___ TV Spot" does the job, but a quick peek at the official YouTube channel reveals that the ad's actual name was How to properly clean your gaming computer.
Then there's an acknowledgement of the owner. I try to list composers for music, directors for film, and of course artists for art. You aren't required to give an exhaustive list of every single contributor to the art you've sampled, but make sure you credit the person/company it belongs to at the very least. Going back to the Dust-Off example, the YouTube video contained a link to dust-off . com which now redirects to falconsafety . com - I lucked out because the top of the page indicates clearly that Dust-Off is a product owned by Falcon Safety Products Inc. but this info is often in the About section of a website or at the bottom of the page.
I like to throw the year on each YTP credit as well. Academic citations usually require a more precise publication date if available. Among other benefits it helps distinguish between things with the same name/owner that were rebooted later - for example there are multiple games called Sonic the Hedgehog owned by SEGA from different years (In fact in this example there are two games from 1991 so it's also important to note what system the game is for!) Generally your source credits should communicate to a viewer where to start looking for a specific thing or who to ask.
You can use Wikipedia to orient yourself if you need a lead on where to start tracking down copyright information for popular media, but make sure you cross-reference what's there with other sources. For Movies/TV I usually just look at the very end of their credits which usually has the copyright info. For music I use Discogs. Sometimes for more obscure or less-documented things I have to do some search-engine sleuthing.
If you're stuck, ask a friend for help! It can be fun and rewarding to track down something that isn't answered by a quick google search, and like most things turning it into a collaborative effort makes it less of a slog.
Copyright acknowledgement is tricky to do correctly and not every Best Practice applies to each situation. There may come a day when MLA-style citations become normal or required even for shitposts and your due diligence will become greater. Do your best, give credit where it's due, and you'll be fine :)
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but this is getting good now (j.h.s.)
a/n: i have slowly but surely been working on this and I have to say, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out
summary: Almost and assumptions, until there is nothing but proof.
second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning) masterlist
folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891
warnings: insecurities, alcohol but everyone is of age, kissing
word count: 4k
You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair.
“Do you really want my honest opinion?”
His eyes are a cautious hopeful as he bites his bottom lip. “…Yes?”
“Jake, this is shit.”
He groans, sliding down in his chair. “I know.”
The two of you sit in silence for a moment as you both look at the paper, contemplating how to not make it shit.
“Hey, do you uh, do you wanna-”
Jake never finishes his sentence as the door to the Center opens, Bradley popping his head in. “Hey, you done?”
You miss the sour look that settles on Jake’s face at the sight of him as your eyes flicker over the clock. “Another half an hour?”
He groans, stumbling into the room. “I’m stealing candy then.”
You shake your head, a smile growing on your face. “Go right ahead.”
“Dude, Seresin, you practically live here.” Bradley says through a mouthful of M&Ms. You roll your eyes at the words, despite the nugget of truth in them.
Over the course of the last few weeks, Jake had spent more time in the Center than not, bringing multiple drafts of any and every assignment to you. It’d gotten to the point that if any of Jake’s buddies from the football team needed him, they’d come looking for him in the Center before they checked the field.
“Shut up Bradshaw.” Jake says, eyes trained on his computer.
Bradley shrugs. “Just saying. Do you want to come over for dinner on Sunday? Mom’s asking about you.”
It takes you a minute to realize Bradley is talking to you and you glance over at him. “Yeah, I guess. Jake, you can not cite Wikipedia.”
He groans again. “It was the only thing I could find!”
“This is our mid-term Jake. This is important.”
-
“Are you really doing homework on a Sunday?” Nick says, coming into the kitchen, arms full of groceries.
“This thesis isn’t going to finish itself, unfortunately.” You mutter, deleting a sentence on the screen. Bradley picks up one of the articles you have laid out on the Bradshaw’s kitchen island, squinting at the title.
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” You groan, dropping your pen to press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know and I think Jeff is trying to kill me.”
“You know what would make you feel better?”
“What?”
He lets out a little laugh, trying to contain his teasing grin. “Making out with your new football buddy.”
You narrow your eyes, taking the article out of his hands. “Would you cut that shit out? Jake doesn’t like me like that. I’m just his tutor.”
Bradley scoffs. “Yeah, sure, okay.”
“I’m being serious!”
“So am I!” Bradley protests. “Seresin has like… the fattest crush on you.”
“Shut up, Bradshaw.” You mutter, turning your eyes back to the computer.
Tom lets out a throaty laugh, prompting you to raise your head to catch Pete’s pained look.
“Something you’d like to share with the class, Pete?” Carole teases.
He gives a jerky shake of his head. “Nope. Nothing. I know nothing.”
The adults let out a round of laughter as Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, collecting some of your articles.
“I saw your Mom at the store with Dad.”
You pause, the cursor on the screen blinking back at you. His words are soft, unable to be heard by the adults who have since moved on in the conversation.
“Apparently, she’s got a boyfriend.” He mutters.
“Good for her.”
“When’s the last time you talked to her?”
You give a shrug of your shoulders. “Don’t remember honestly.”
He sighs. “Maybe it’s for the best. She didn’t have anything nice to say.”
“She never does.”
-
Jake sighs three separate times before Javy shuts the lid of his laptop, a bit aggressively.
“Alright, I’ll bite. What is up?”
“I fucking hate that guy.” Jake says with a shake of his head, looking back down at his statistics notebook.
“Who?”
“Stupid curly hair. Stupid charming smile. Stupid baseball player.”
“Who, Jacob? Who?”
“You know Bradley Bradshaw?”
Javy raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. “‘Course I know Brad, he’s one of Nat’s best friends.”
“Yeah, well he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.”
“What the hell did he ever do to you?”
Jake can’t bring himself to say anything, scribbling angrily in the margins of his notebook. Unfortunately, his best friend knows him too well.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your pretty tutor you seem to be spending a lot of time with lately… would it?”
He can hear the smirk in Javy’s voice, even without looking at the boy.
“Fuck off, Machado.” He says with a groan, leaning back in the booth as he crosses his arms. He waits a beat, Javy looking at him expectantly before crumbling. “Can you blame me Javy? He fucking picks her up after all her shifts, has Sunday dinners with her… I fucking hate him for getting her before I even had a chance.”
“They’re not… they’re not dating, you know that right?”
Jake snorts. “Save my pride Javy.”
“No, no I’m serious, they aren’t.” He says with a shake of his head. “She lives next door to Bradley. Nat said they went to high school together and grew up across the street from him or something. That’s why she goes over there sometimes.”
“Huh.”
He’s incapable of saying anything else, mentally reviewing all the interactions he’s seen you have with Bradshaw. They’d never been more than platonic, but he would admit that Bradshaw already pissed him off enough as it was and his jealosuy flared whenever you were around him.
“You should just ask her out on a date man, you clearly have a thing for her.” Javy says, shaking his head as he types out numbers into his calculator.
“I can’t do that.” He says with such certainty Javy has to pause and take a deep breath through his nose.
“And why not?”
“Because there’s no way in hell she’d say yes.”
Javy lets out a chuckle, looking up at him. “You’ve never had any problems before now.”
“This is different.” Jake hisses. “She’s really kind, and sweet, and smart, and I- she’s so far out of my league.”
Javy rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself Seresin. But don’t come moaning and moping to me about it. You dug this hole for yourself..” The words carry no real weight, both knopwing Javy would always listen. “What did you get for number 8?”
-
“Thought you’d be on a beach somewhere.”
You look up, catching sight of Jake. “Hey.”
“What’re you doing in the library over fall break? Shouldn’t you be somewhere tropical with your phone turned off?”
“I have Pete’s paper I have to finish. He gave me an extension and I’m pushing my extension deadline as it stands.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t done?”
You shake your head. “Almost though. I just have to proofread it and then submit it. Why are you here?”
“Have to return a book I used for our mid-term. Plus, I was already here for an extra weight lifting session, so thought I’d come by.”
It’s the first time you take a minute to recognize what Jake is wearing. He’s a bit sweaty, muscle tank damp.
Even then, you can help but eye the way his biceps look, imagining the way he must’ve looked while-
No.
You shake your head, clearing the thought as you meet his eye again.
“Well, it was good to see you Jake.” You say with a quick smile, looking back to your computer.
It was beyond inappropriate to think of someone you tutored like that. Absolutely not.
“Hey, uh…”
You look back up to him, watching him fiddle with his gym bag.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of break?”
You shake your head. “No. I’m technically not working but if there’s something you need me to look at, I’m ha-”
“No!” Jake protests quickly. “No, no, no. No, I was going to uh- ask if you wanted to do something.”
You blink at him. “Yeah, sure I guess I’m free. What do you have in mind?”
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, well I kinda need a pumpkin for this carving thing the team is doing. Would you, uh, want to come with me?”
“You… you want me to go to a pumpkin patch with you?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean… yeah okay.” You say a little dumbfounded.
You weren’t a fool, you knew Jake was attractive. You’d be blind not see it.
But you knew that you weren’t the girl Jake would be with. You knew it in the raised eyebrows in silent question his teams mates gave him when he said hi to you in the dining hall, knew it in the smirks girls in your History class would give you when Jake started sitting with you.
You might be Jake’s tutor, and dare you even say friend, but you knew one thing to be true.
You’d never be Jake’s girl.
The smile Jake offers you, though, is worth a weeks worth of dirty looks and snide sneers.
“Great! How does tonight sound? I found a patch about 45 minutes away, has some cute fall stuff we could do if you wanted? I’ll drive.”
“I- yeah.”
You wanted to cringe at the sound of spending hours alone in a pumpkin patch, doing fall activities that you always thought you’d do on a date with someone.
It hurts in the worst way, feeling like you’re watching a life you could’ve had, had you been someone else.
“See you at 6 then, kid.”
-
You shut the door of Jake’s truck behind you as you both step out on to the farm about half an hour outside of San Diego. The evening air is much cooler than it is in the city, offering a bit of a bite as you wrap your coat around you tighter.
“Where’d you find this place Jake?” You ask as you take in the cozy environment, the corn maze not too far away, the the apple bobbing and hay rides that are consumed by giggling children.
“Bradshaw’s Mom told me about it. Apparently, they’ve been coming out here since he was a kid.”
You nod as Jake rounds the truck, stopping next to you. You’re sure Carole has shown you pictures of baby Bradley, rosy cheesks as Nick stands there, both with grins so wide.
The pictures had made your heart ache in the way hearing Carole or Nick talk about Bradley’s childhood always had.
There was so much love and laughter you’d missed out on, so much you never got to have, something you longed for.
Relationships you knew you’d never have with your own parents.
Jake clearing his throat breaks you from your musing, bringing you back to the present.
“So, what should we do first?”
-
“I don’t think your pumpkin is big enough.” You say, a giggle laced through your words as the two of you walk (well, really, Jake is more waddling) to sit down. He heaves a sigh as she sets the rather large pumpkin on the hay.
“I want to win.” He says with a sigh, draping hismelf over the hay bales.
“What do you win?” You ask, sitting down next to him.
He opens his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, just watches you.
“Jake?” He hums, not tearing his eyes away from you. “What do you get if you win?”
He shrugs. “Nothing too crazy, I hope. Reuben is organizing the whole thing which just makes me more concerned for the losers.”
“Well, what would you want as a prize?”
He swallows, eyes gleaming. “Well, I could think of a few things.”
You raise an eyebrow, feeling your cheeks go warm as you realise just how close Jake is to you.
“I-”
“Seresin!” Someone hollers, causing both you and Jake to turn.
There’s a few boys standing a bit away, all grinning. And then there’s Bob, one of Natasha’s friends you’ve gotten to know through Bradley.
Bob serves as an athletic manager for the football team, maybe against his better judgement, given the exasperated look in his eyes as the boys make their way over to where you’re sat with Jake.
“What’re you doing here, Seresin?” One of the boys asks.
“Getting a pumpkin for our carving party?” Another inquires.
Jake coughs, looking over at his pumpkin. “Yeah. Um Kenny, Chad, this is-”
“Shit, are you on a date dude?” Chad asks, eyes growing wide.
“No-” Jake amends, a bit too quickly, but Chad keeps talking.
“Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to interrupt. Don’t let us stop you from letting you hit it-”
Bob cringes as you close your eyes, cheeks aflame in embarrassment. “Actually, we were jst leaving.” You say abruptly, standing up from the hay. “I’ll meet you back at the truck, okay?”
“Wait-” Jake protests as Kenny offers up a botched apology, chuckling his way through the statement.
You reach up, rubbing at your face to make the tingly feeling go away as you blink back hot tears.
You knew this would happen.
-
You adjust your dress nervously as you ring the doorbell, pack of White Claws in your hand.
You didn’t even like White Claws but what is one expected to show up to a party with? Nothing?
You aren’t sure if the noise of the doorbell has been heard over the music that’s so loud you can feel it through the porch and are about to ring it again (or maybe give up and hide in your car) when the door opens.
It’s Jake.
He gives you a blinding smile, ushering you in the house. “You came!” He shouts over the noise.
You nod, eyes flitting over his costume as your hands become sweaty. “Yeah, I- I uh brought this. Wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to show up empty handed.”
He smiles again, taking the box from you. “Nice. Nice costume, by the way.” He winks, disappearing into the crowd as you stand there like a deer in headlights.
There’s a warmth spreading through your cheeks that has nothing to do with the seltzer you’d chugged in your car before ringing Jake’s doorbell.
You spot your friend Maria in a corner, refilling her drink and you begin to push your way through the crowd, each dressed up in a different costume, each wearing less clothes than the last.
You feel more overdressed than you have in your life and that’s saying something considering how short this dress really is.
You tug on her arm, catching her attention as she smiles. “Hey-”
“Give me this.” You say, taking the drink out of her hand. “I need to get drunk.”
“What-”
“Jake dressed up as Peter Pan. Maria, what the hell is in this? It smells like gasoline.” You say as you shove the drink back in her hand. She peers in it, blinking like she’s not really sure what was in it either.
“You wouldn’t have liked it anyways.” She says, before a ghost of a smile appears on her face. “So you and Jake, huh?”
“Shut up.” You mumble, cheeks going red. “I didn’t mean to. Wendy Darling was what I threw together at the last minute.”
Jake had texted you at 3:08pm, asking if you were doing anything tonight.
And you had said no, like a smitten dumbass.
So here you were, against the protest of your judgement and pile of homework, in a skimpy dress in half-assed attempt at Wendy Darling, in the hopes that Jake might notice you.
A pipe dream, really. Especially given the fact you and Jake hadn't really talked since that night at the pumpkin patch over fall break.
“Maria!” You hear Bradley’s voice over the music and you turn just in time to see Bradley squeeze his way through the group of people. “You said you were gonna come play beer pong twenty minutes ago.” She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I know, I know. Got distracted talking to this one.” She points to you and Bradley blinks, looking down at you. It looks like this is the first time he’s realised you’re there, which given how inebriated the boy seems to be, might actually be true.
“Let’s go play!” He shouts with a nod of his head towards the backyard, and with that him and Maria are gone. You glance around, biting your lip as nerves begin to grow in your stomach. There’s no sign of Jake, or really anyone else you might know.
You feel yourself back up further and further into the corner, biting on your fingernails as your eyes flit nervously through the room, wondering what you should do.
Just as you’re wondering if you should leave (and drive away and never come back) a warm hand lands on your shoulder. You jump in surprise, looking up to see Jake towering over you.
“Hey, what’re you doing over here all alone?”
You shrug.
“Well, why don’t you come play some beer pong with me out in the back?”
You give another shrug. “I’ve never played, I doubt I’d be any good.”
He gives you a grin, leaning closer to you. “Well, then you’ll be my good luck charm.”
The sounds of Monster Mash follow you out to the backyard as Jake begins to explain the rules of beer pong to you.
“-and I know you don’t drink a whole ton, so I’ll drink if you’ll throw?”
You startle at Jake’s words. “How did you-”
“Bradshaw!” Jake shouts, clapping the brunette on the shoulders, startling him and botching his throw.
“2 v 2 after this?”
Bradley’s eyes flicker over to you, a grin growing on his face. “On one condition.”
Jake quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Loser has to kiss their partner.”
Your eyes grow wide at Bradley’s words, wanting to reach around Jake and throttle him.
Jake titls his head as Reuben sets up the table again. “You’re on.”
You splutter as Jake tugs you to the other side, a crowd starting to gather around the table. “Jake, the only pong I’ve ever played is of the iMessage kind, I don’t really know how good I’m going to be.”
Jake shrugs. “Yeah, but Bradshaw and Maria are both hammered. I’m counting on their perception being so fuzzy they can’t land a single shot.”
Despite your nerves the whole game, Jake ends up being right, with Bradley and Maria only landing three shots the whole game.
Still, you can’t help the way your stomach flutters in disappointment at the fact that you don’t get to kiss Jake, although you’d never want it to be under these circumstances, where he has to kiss you because of a bet.
Bradley shakes his head ruefully at you before, leaning over pressing a kiss quick peck to Maria’s cheek.
Jake teasingly chastises Bradley that that wasn’t part of their deal as Javy takes your place in the pairing, Natasha replacing Maria.
You get through another round, Mickey taking over Jake’s spot next before you’ve decided enough is enough, and it really had nothing at all to do with Chad’s appearance in the backyard.
“I think I’m gonna go.”
Jake’s head shoots over to you as you lean over, getting closer to his ear so he can hear you over the music.
“Yeah?” He asks.
You nod. “Yeah, I’ve still got homework I need to finish. Thanks for inviting me though.”
He smiles at you softly. “‘Course, I’m glad you came, I know this isn’t exactly your scene.”
“That’s what she said.” Javy coughs into his fist as he walks past.
Jake rolls his eyes. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot. Text me when you get home, okay?”
You nod, ignoring the warmth spreading through you at his words.
-
(1:13am- Did you make it home okay? I never heard from you.
Your heart jumps up into your throat as you peer at the text, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across your face.
Yeah, I did. Thanks for checking
The bubble pops up a few times before a new text appears.
Good to hear.
Get some sleep.
Goodnight.)
-
You squint at the brunette over the top of your laptop, trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth.
“I am not asking Jake out.”
He groan, slumping down on the table in front of you. “Why not?” He whines, causing you to wrinkle your nose.
“Becuase? It’s Jake? He’s a super popular football player who’s not going to be interested in dating his tutor? Get off this, please. You’re starting to piss me off.”
Bradley studies you for a minute before he heaves a sigh. “Fine.” There’s quiet for a minutes as you turn back to your reading before Bradley speaks again. “Are you going to your Mom’s for Thanksgiving?”
You shake your head. “No, she’s driving up north to go see my Grandma with my brother and my sister is spending the holiday at my Dad’s.”
“So… do you wanna come over?”
“For Thanksgiving? Sure.” You say with a shrug.
Bradley smiles. “Wonderful, I’ll text Mom and tell her right now.” He says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You know who else is coming to Thanksgiving?”
“I’d drop it if I were you Bradshaw.”
-
“This is great as always Mrs. Bradshaw.” Natasha says warmly as Jake nudges you. You look up at him from where you’re cutting a piece of apple pie, Nick setting a scoop of ice cream on your plate, Jake nodding his head out to the backyard.
“Let’s go sit.” You nod, grabbing the plate as Jake leads the two of you to sit outside.
It’s still warm enough to dip your feet in the pool as the two of you sit near the edge, Jake having to roll up his jeans.
“I’ll never get over Bradshaw having a pool.”
You let out a little laugh, pulling the fork from your mouth. “You’re telling me. That was always the status symbol of wealth growing up. What?” You ask, realizing Jake hasn’t started to eat his pumpkin pie but is simply just watching you.
“You look really nice today.” You feel a blush crawl up your neck as you glance down at your outfit.
“Thanks.” You say, picking up your plate to eat, unable to meet Jake’s eye.
It’s quiet between the two of you for a little while, the silence comfortable as you eat your slices of pie.
“You know, Bradley keeps telling me the funniest thing.” You say as you finish the last of the pie, setting the plate back down on the ground. Carole really did make a killer apple pie, a wonderful combination of apples and cinnamon, the pastry dough always elevating the dessert.
“What?”
“He keeps telling me… God, it’s so silly.” You say, shaking your head. “He keeps telling me you have a crush on me.”
Jake watches you for a second, and you realise telling Jake this may have been a bad idea, before Jake leans over you, pressing his lips to yours.
It takes a minute for your brain to even realising he’s kissing you, but it’s a minute too long as Jake pulls back, eyes wide.
“I’m- I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what that was like just once.”
You don’t even realize what you’re doing until your doing it, leaning over and returning Jake’s kiss. Jake’s hands are already on your waist to steady you as you cup his cheek, getting to savor the way he tastes of pumpkin pie and the bourbon he had earlier.
Jake cups your cheek as he pulls away, thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbone as he watches you. He’s looking at you in such a way that is making you blush, wanting to duck your head and hide from his gaze.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He whispers.
You swallow, already missing the taste of his lips. “Then why are we waiting any longer?”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#top gun: maverick#top gun: maverick fic#second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)
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So I was checking out Greg Ellis' IMDB page to see if he's been in anything recently. I mainly wanted to know if the whole blowup between him and Mark Darrah 3 years ago that resulted in him making a YouTube video speaking in Cullen's voice while beseeching the Dragon Age fandom to rise up against Cancel Culture affected his career in any way.
This was swiftly forgotten, however, due to the fact that I got really caught up in the wall of text that is his Mini Bio.
It's a lot, right? Usually when I see bios on IMDB they're less than a paragraph. But what got me was the inclusion of all these weird details. How Greg "mastered the Rubik's cube at 12" and that he's "skydived 10,000 feet above the earth" (so? ppl skydive, man, why is this important). But then there's this mention that he has over 20 action figures of characters he's portrayed in film and television. Like... seriously? This is really worth including in your IMDB Bio? Then right at the bottom it says the Bio was written by PR which lol
Anyway, I didn't post on tumblr dot com just to dunk on all the questionable details Greg PR decided to include in his IMDB.
What I wanna talk about is this lil detail here:
Now, I've read his IMDB bio a couple times over the years and have never really questioned whether Greg was truly nominated for an Emmy. Like, who tf would lie about being nominated for an Emmy? But then I started wondering what the Emmy was for (seeing as how he neglects to mention it in his bio) so I decided to do some digging into what he was nominated for.
Doing a general google search turned up nothing so I decided to try his website to see if he supplies more details, and he does.
Again, he neglects to mention what the nomination was for, but says that he was nominated for his role on 24. So naturally I did a search for 24 Emmy nominations.
It is at this point I become aware that the Emmys have not only dedicated pages for shows that have won Emmys, but also a search function.
Guess whose name isn't listed on 24's Emmy Award page?
Guess whose name doesn't reveal any results for even something as basic as an Emmy nomination?
Even under his legal name? Or the other version of his legal name?
Okay, so maybe they just neglected to add him on the 24 page. If Greg was nominated for anything, it would most likely be under "Outstanding Supporting Actor In A Drama Series" as he was a guest actor for 9 episodes of the show (as Michael Amador) between 2003 and 2004.
He's not listed in the nominees for 2003, 2004, or even 2005 (just to be generous). And since I bothered to look it up just to double check, here's a YouTube video for every year in this category: 2003, 2004, 2005.
-------
While all this may seem like a bit much just to emphasize that Greg is lying about an Emmy nomination, I need it to be understood that I did my best trying to verify its existence. On the off chance it turns out the nomination exists somewhere, let it be known I'll delete this post and apologize for misinforming people.
But I just gotta say, if it's not on the Emmy's website or even his own Wikipedia page, then where tf is it? Like, I get that Wikipedia isn't a totally reliable source, but Gregory Itzin, who actually was nominated twice on 24 as a supporting actor, has it not only mentioned on his wikipedia page, but also has one of his nominations sourced (if you click on the link it will download a PDF).
So until proof that he was ever nominated turns up, I'm going to assume he's lying about it. Which is funny when you consider he's not even lying about winning an Emmy, he's lying about being nominated for one. He's lying about losing an Emmy. Like, could you imagine if Tommy Tallarico lied about almost being on MTV Cribs?
Anyway please reblog this post and feel free to steal it because I find this extremely funny and would love it if someone asked Greg why the internet isn't turning up results for his Totally Real Emmy Nomination.
ETA - Adding a link to @aidanchaser pointing out that it seems like Greg is claiming he was nominated under the categories for "outstanding casting in a drama series" and/or "outstanding drama series" based on what he says about the nomination on his website, along with my reply as I was aware of those nominations but didn't make the connection between them and what he says on his website.
I'm only going to add here that his claim to this nomination is a huge stretch because, by similar logic, if 24 actually won either of those nominations, basically anyone who worked on 24 could claim that they're an Emmy award winning guest actor or production designer, which entirely misrepresents the award being given as it hollistically takes into account various parts of the casting and production. Like, there's a reason there's separate categories for this stuff, and the fact that he seems so comfortable making this claim on his IMDB that he's an "Emmy nominated actor" based on those nominations is such a wild stretch.
And it's clear to me this obfuscation was intentional because he could've easily said that he worked on the "Emmy award winning show, 24" because that's more accurate to the truth of his involvement with the production (i.e. that he worked on a show that won muliple awards). But specifically claiming he was "nominated" lends credence to the notion that he was nominated specifically for his work while still technically being true (despite that claim being bullshit).
#greg ellis#greg ellis critical#dragon age#pirates of the caribbean#<- tagging because i know there's peeps in both fandoms that hates his guts and figured y'all would want a laugh at his expense#apologies if this has been pointed out during the time this post has languished in my drafts#eta - added additional context#may add more later but for now i need to stop procrastinating and get shit done lmao
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you've reblogged some posts about how people hide their antisemitism in antizionism. I'm trying to educate myself further, could you please explain how?
It's great that you are reaching out to educate yourself further.
Zionism as an ideology just means that the State of Israel should exist in one form or another in Southern Levant.
Zionism is not an inherently violent ideology. Just like with any ideology, there are those who are violent and those who aren't. Not all zionists are jews and not all jews are zionists.
Zionism also doesn't mean that Palestine can't exist. Palestine isn't even mentioned in the base ideology of Zionism. You can have zionists who believe in Palestine not existing, however that is not zionism. That is an added on opinion to zionism, like a side to a main meal if we are to use a metaphor.
If you believe in a two state solution, you are a zionist as you believe that the state of Israel should exist.
Some people hide their antisemitism behind antizionism. People who do that usually wouldn't have the opinion that they do about Israel for other countries. Whilst not all Israeli citizens are jews, Israel is mostly comprised of jews. The fact that a person is having a certain opinion only about a jew majority country and not any other country is cause for concern. What about that country is different to other countries? The answer is a majority Jewish population.
An example of anti a country when it's really about hating jews, which does not involve Israel is South Africa's immigration policy in the 1930's. SA limited the amount of immigrants from countries with a high Jewish population but did have any limits for low Jewish population countries. On the Wikipedia page about that, it is called antisemitism and I think most people can agree that it is antisemitism as the only reason why those high Jewish population countries are limited is because if their high Jewish population.
So as you can see, before Israel's existence in the modern world, jews have faced antisemitism hid as being against a country.
If the amount of jews a country has is the only difference as to why they are getting special treatment negatively vs other countries, that is antisemitic.
Genuine critiques of the Israeli government is valid and is not antisemitism. Critiques of the Israeli government which you wouldn't have about any other government is antisemitic.
A lot of people will call unvalid critiques antizionism even though it counts as antisemitism.
The best way to know if someone is hiding their antisemitism as antizionism is to go "does this person hold the state of Israel to different standards than other countries" if the answer is yes, then you are seeing antisemitism.
Another form of antisemitism being held as antizionism is if someone views all zionists as being violent and anti Palestine. As I touched on earlier, zionism is not inherently either of those two things. Yes some people can be both of those thing, a zionist and violent/is anti Palestine, however zionism is inherently neither of those things.
If you believe that a state of Israel can't exist without Palestine being destroyed, why? Because it's never been successful as peace? Communism has never been successfully implemented yet a lot of antizionists believe in Communism and don't think doing so is wrong or harmful. Israel has never broken a ceasefire before. So its not like there hasn't been attempts for Israel to exist alongside Palestine from Israel.
If someone believes that all zionists are violent and hate Israel, it also poses the question of why someone believes that an ideology born by jews is inherently violent?
Now getting into my personal opinion to take this as you will.
Antizionism is impossible to implement without harming jews. If you got rid of the state of Israel, what happens to the jew who lived in Israel?
Jews are not allowed to immigrate to Gaza by Hamas. Hamas wants to kill all jews. Do you really think that will stop once Israel no longer exists? What's the other alternative? Forcing all jews to immigrate to other countries? How well do you think that is going to go when over 6 million people need to move to other countries. Think about refugee crises. Those have not been handled well. Do you think that potential crisis of having to rehome 6 million jews will be handled with ease? Wanting either of that is antisemitic not antizionism.
A one state solution for either country will not work and therefore a two state solution needs to be put in place which Israel has wanted since its existence in the modern day.
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my experience with weed has been one (1) singular edible at a college party but ever since seeing stuff about weed has made me feel a little bit anxious (even though my experience with that edible was good and if given the opportunity i would get high again? idk). i was just wondering if you have any advice about getting rid of that knot of anxiety in my chest around weed? because i really don't want to stigmatize it for myself. (weirdly enough i've been around people who've done coke and i don't feel anxious about that. it's literally only weed and mentions of drug use that don't mention the drug)
Recognizing that your fear stems from a singular event is a pretty solid starting point.
Try to break down exactly what about what you experienced made you uncomfortable. Did your senses become too sensitive? Did you not like that your thinking faculties were clouded, so you weren't in full control of yourself? Or maybe it was the party itself that made you anxious. Or maybe the edible was poorly cooked and there was a way higher dosage than a beginner should have taken, or it gave you food poisoning if it was something like a baked good made using bad eggs.
Whatever it is, try to pinpoint the exact reason you distinctly remember disliking the experience. And then, think about how you could control those variables should you ever want to choose to experience weed again.
Like, you can only remember weed in the periphery of your memory. Of course you're scared of it, you can't control the fact that it freaked you out once, and you'll never be able to not have been freaked out by it. The only way to curb its power is to reconcile with it in the present to form new experiences where it doesn't and can't hurt you.
That doesn't mean ya gotta smoke some, but like. Maybe read a wikipedia article about how crossbreeding strains of weed works. Like, how they get the different flavors. Did you know that turpenes, the little crystals that are on the weed, can mimic any flavor profile? It's true!
Or you COULD smoke weed! You could go to your local dispensary and ask the budtender "Hey, I'd like a preroll that's got a really low THC content, something that'll get me a little high but I'm still in control", and that'll get you something really easygoing! And the best part? You don't even have to smoke it! You can just like. Smell it. And look at it. Or like, unravel it and look at the weed. Or you can just flush it down the toilet!
Ah fuck I just reinvented exposure therapy. Fuck my bad.
Anyway, the point is weed is awesome and you'll be cooler if you smoke it.
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