#shoogling
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autistics stay winning
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Okay, not to be all "you can see the age of this user base rising" but when I say I GASPED
It's smaller than a hand luggage case!
It has a HAND LUGAGE HANDLE TO PULL IT ABOUT
It is A CUTE TIGER 🐅
#Reader I bought it#I'm so old#But this is so clever#Good design#I'm so excited for my fancy pram#Cosatto#Also!#You can open it ONE HANDED#You just shoogle that clasp loose
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the vacciliation btw the two bad positions of “haha stupid straight women” and “ouughhh poor wibble helpless straight women” just seems like an elaborate ongoing proxy war to prevent anyone online from ever arriving at a normal opinion abt bisexuality or by extension even gender
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Where did she get all those fucking candles?????
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posted like two pics of them before but I wanna make a post by itself cause I maybe wanna bring em back; failwife vampire streamer
previously they got a lil bit of a comic in collaberation with @shoogles but I'm really bad at comics so they're kinda rubbish
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Tekno outfits (+ one stolen from the girlfriend)
The second (super cute) outfit design belongs to @nanadouken
Side doodle I did while @shoogles Shorty design (on the left) was staring at me while looking at the Tekno reference
#sonic the comic#fleetway#fleetway comics#tekno the canary#teknamy#stc#shortfuse the cybernik#shorty the squirrel
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im not saying it on the post for respect of op but i think sometimes we as people who make art or write have gotten a bit too cocky with going "what if this bad thing was good instead", thats not to say media cant have problems or legit be badly written but i think a lot of us on the internet dont or may not have experience in the industry
which isnt to say we cant write good. no. its just that sometimes bad writing comes from a million different meddling hands of higher-ups, or two different writers not seeing eye-to-eye, or miscommunication, stuff like that, cos sometimes we'll roll up our sleeves and go 'heres my redesign or rewrite of something, i FIXED it' and like i love doing that but i dont think i like the wording of it. its so snide and presumptive when a large process behind the scenes can be a mystery to us. especially when its just one person making these redesigns and rewrites as opposed to an entire team of people that have to work together and coordinate and reach a very specific deadline and budget
(this train of thinking i got reminded of because im watching shoogles' 11 hour brilliant diamond retrospective, the way he goes about debunking common pitfalls in pokemon criticism and media criticism at large is literally incredible)
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I'm shoogles, née ShayMay.
I'm a comic writer and artist from Scotland.
I also stream and do overlong videos on games from time to time - check the bio if you'd like to see those!
I'm mainly known, though, for doing this:
youtu.be/kFC6mDKF-0c
Sorry.
I'm working on another one on Brilliant Diamond right now.
Sorry.
#intro post#art#artwork#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#pokemon#rodela#pi#engelbaum#sonic the comic#uhhh idk sorry if this is like... not how this works
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A BIRD IN THE HAND 🕊
[Brian Fraser and Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser are hiding out on one of the battlements of Castle Leoch, where they’ve sneaked in to take part in the funeral festivities for the recently deceased Chief, Red Jacob MacKenzie. Brian would be worse than unwelcome, if anyone recognizes him as the Old Fox’s son, illegitimate or not, and the two young men are keeping out of the way while they figure things out. There are several doves sitting in the sun on the wall near them, and Brian very slowly inches close to them. He’s just inveigled one into sitting on his hand (he’s done this trick before), when a tall young woman comes striding out of a doorway at the end of the battlement near them, but comes to an abrupt stop when she sees what’s up.]
Brian saw her from the corner of his eye—a braw lass, tall—very tall—square-shouldered and looking well able to mind herself should things come to blows. From the corner of one eye, he caught sight of fluttering red hair, loosened for mourning, he supposed. She’d stopped when she saw them, but now came toward them, stepping slow and careful.
He could feel the dove’s heart, beating in his palm, soft and rapid. His own blood pulsed in his ears, not much slower. The young woman came to a halt, three paces from him; he didn’t look at her, but heard the rustle of her petticoats and felt his heart speed up to match the dove’s.
She watched with interest, still as a nesting quail herself, so as not to startle the dove. Brian moved his other hand slowly into the fold of his plaid, broke off a corner of the lump of bread he’d put away in case of sudden hunger, and moving still more slowly, brought it up and placed it delicately between his lips. The dove shoogled its head a bit, nervous at this novel development, but its eyes were bright and fixed on the bread.
He made a faint “_tchi, tchi, tchi_,’ between his teeth and the bird drew itself up, interested. He turned his hand, little by little, to cause the dove to change its footing in order to stay upright, and ended with her on the back of his hand, her sharp wee claws digging in a bit. Smooth and slow, he brought her up to his face, still making the shooshing noise, so she wouldn’t be startled by his breath.
One second….two seconds…the dove turned her head, one way and then the other, fixing one eye at a time on the desired crumb. Three seconds….f-- The dove darted out her neck like a snake and pecked the crumb neatly from his lips, launching herself off his hand in the same movement.
“Mother of God!” Brian and the lass both said, startled. They looked at each other and laughed. They were still looking a moment later, when a high female voice raised in exasperation from a window above jerked the lassie’s attention upward and away.
“_Tha mi direach a’ tighinn_!” she shouted, adding—in a lower tone and with lowering brow—“Take care ye dinna swallow your own spit and die, ye wee besom.”
He laughed again, and she looked at him again, deep blue eyes still creased into triangles of amusement.
“Do that wi’ a raven, _a charadh_,” she said. “And I’ll be truly impressed.”
And then she was gone in a flurry of skirts, loose hair flying like a shower of gold, hot from the forge.
He stood still for a moment, staring into the empty doorway as though he could make her reappear there. Instead, Murtagh came out of the shelter of a nook where he had tactfully receded.
“I should ha’ paid more attention when ye did that the first time,” he said, nodding at Brian’s hand, where the dove’s claws had left small red scratches. “But I’m of that braw lassie’s opinion, _a bhalaich_—ye’ll have to do it with a raven. And then move on to owls, maybe. Did ye ken who she is?” he asked, dropping his mocking.
“She lives in the castle,” Brian said, lifting his chin toward the tower above, “or yon female coo up there wouldna have been bawling for her. And given what I’ve heard of Red Jacob MacKenzie’s looks, I’ll wager ye a quart o’ beer that’s the eldest daughter. Ellen, is it—her name?”
“Aye, Ellen.” Now Murtagh was peering into the dark doorway, too. “And aye, that was her. I was down in the courtyard a wee while ago and someone pointed her out to me; she’d come down to welcome a tacksman come in wi’ his henchmen. She was dressed that wee bit better, mind, but no mistaking a lass that size for anyone else. Christ, she’s as tall as me!”
“Taller,” Brian said, laughing. He glanced at Murtagh’s spindly shanks. “And likely weighs twice as much.” He felt like he’d already drunk the quart of beer—too fast. His head seemed light and slightly foamy.
Murtagh shrugged. “If ye’re on top, what does it matter?”
“And what if ye’re not?”
“Aye, well, she might crush me, that’s true. But I’d die happy.”
“Let’s be going,” Brian said, as the sounds of multiple feet and men’s voices announced the imminent advent of a large party. “Anyone sees us who kens us, we’ll just die.”
“Well, aye, _you_ will. My Auntie Glenna willna let ‘em kill _me_.”
“How long is it since ye last saw her?”
Och, ten years, maybe twelve…”
“Ye didna even have a beard, twelve years ago. She willna ken ye from a hole in the ground. And ye willna be having much conversation wi’ her, either, wi’ your teeth knocked out. Come on!” He grasped Murtagh’s upper arm and yanked him toward the door at the other end of the battlement.
After the brightness of the day, the dark of the stairway was like having a snuffer clapped over your head. Hearing the men still behind them, they hurtled down the invisible steps, bouncing off the stone walls and arriving in a breathless heap at the bottom.
“Damn, they’re coming this way!” Voices, laughing and joking, echoed on the stairway above, and Murtagh scrambled to his feet, groping for his dirk by instinct.
“Dinna be daft, eejit!” Brian hissed in his ear. “Run!”
“No.” Murtagh had stopped, suddenly, and put out a hand to still Brian’s impatience. “Nay, listen. They’re Englishmen!”
Despite a continuing urge to flee, Brian did listen.
“Well, there’s _one_ Englishman,” he said dubiously. “But there’s someone speakin’ French, too, and maybe someone from…the Borders, ye think?”
“Ye’re right, we should go,” Murtagh said, straightening his plaid and brushing his fingers through his hair. Curiosity stayed Brian’s feet, though, and moments later, the dark maw at the bottom of the stairs spewed out a motley group.
“Ach,” Brian said softly. “No, I dinna ken the Englishman. But him in the wig, wi’ the long nebbit? That’s him they call Bobbin’ John—the Earl of Mar. And the other one, dressed up like a dog’s breakfast—that’s Curdie MacNeill. One of Auld Jacob’s tacksmen. I’ve seen him before, at Beauly.”
Absorbed in conversation and laughter, the men gave Murtagh and Brian no more than an indifferent glance, and passed them by in a moment.
Back still pressed against the wall, Brian leaned out a bit to watch the last of them disappear around the corner.
“Maybe it’s true, what they say about _Sheumas Ruadh_.”
“Which part? That he could still run down a deer at his age, or that he could eat the whole thing when he caught it?”
“That he has—had—to do wi’ folk in what ye might call…higher places.” He wasn’t going to risk saying the word “Jacobite” out loud. Not here.
Murtagh shrugged, impatient, and tightened his belt a notch.
“Mmphm. Let’s go have a keek at the woods, then. I can hear them bangin’ away, building towers for the _tynchal_ already.”
[end section]
[Excerpt from Untitled Outlander Prequel, Copyright 2024 Diana Gabaldon]
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can you do something about daughter!reader coming out as bi to dad!sirius and him being supportive as all hell??
I need to tell you something...
Sirius Black x daughter! reader
Summary: Sirius' daughter comes out as bi to him
Warnings: fluff, Sirius being the greatest dad, mentions of food
A/n: 1k words, I love this request and I hope it did a good job with it, I feel like this was the perfect piece for the first of June, thanks so much for requesting, enjoy x
Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist
You played with the leftovers scattered across your plate while everyone else conversed around you. Barely listening as you were planning a speech in your head, a speech you had been practicing for a while now, telling your dad you were bisexual.
It terrified you, maybe more than it should have, you knew your dad loved you, but you had only just gotten him back, and moving into Grimmauld place with the Weasleys, your godbrother, among others, you held off. Everything was perfect and you didn’t want it to risk ruining it
“You should have seen her last year when my brother came off the pitch” Ginny says “Thought she was going to key over, eh y/n?” she wiggles her eyebrows at you
You look up, eyes going wide eyed as you registered her words, turning to your father who just chuckles “Which twin would that be? Need to keep an eye on him, bit young for a boyfriend yet” he says half joking, half serious, making the others laugh
You chuckle nervously as you started to feel a little sick. Fred was handsome and you did have a minor crush on the boy but that wasn’t the reason you got so flustered that day. Sure, shirtless Fred was a sight to behold but just behind him was Angelina. She looked like a goddess, her skin glistening in the sun, her hair though wet from sweat framing her face perfectly, the way vest underneath rode up her taking off her jersey, that was the day you were certain you were also attracted to girls
You weren’t sure if people would get it though, if they would judge you for ‘not being able to choose’, when really you would fall for who you fell for, regardless of their gender, a cute boy was a cute boy and a pretty girl was a pretty girl.
But what if you told them and then Fred asked you out, would they call you a liar? Or if you ended up dating a girl, like Angelina, would you be labelled as gay instead? It was confusing and you hadn't fully figured it all out but keeping it hidden was slowly starting to eat away at you, you needed to tell someone
Later that night you were sat up in the kitchen, sitting on the counter by the window, feet fiddling with one of the tea bag boxes between them.
You heard some footsteps approaching, turning you saw your dad “Hey pup” he smiles at you running himself a glass of water “Can’t sleep?” he asks taking a sip
You nod “Thinking” you sigh bringing your legs to your chest resting your chin upon them
He puts down the glass, hopping up onto the counter next to you “What about?” he inquires softly
You shift closer to your father, moving into a cross legged position, perpendicular to him “I need to tell you something...” you begin, taking a deep breath as your leg begins to shoogle
His hand comes to rest on your knee, calming the shakes “You can tell me anything” he assures you with a warm smile, a smile reserved for very few people “Does this have anything to do with dinner?”
You bob your head “Sort of” you say quietly, still unsure of how to bring it up
“If you and Fred are together that’s okay pup, he’s a good lad…still think you’re a bit young to have a boyfriend though” he says in a way intended to make you laugh but you didn't
What about a girlfriend? you wanted to ask, the comedian in you wanted to say that like those sitcoms you watched, but in reality, you felt a bit crushed. You shouldn’t have felt bad he assumed, you had never given any indicators that you liked women too, but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the worry of him not accepting you
“Me and Freddie aren't together” you confess “What I wanted to...umm tell you" you sigh, closing your eyes for a second to gather all of your courage "That day I wasn’t just flustered from him…you see there’s was this other umm…” you hesitate “…girl in my year and she was…was...what I'm trying to say is...” you were cut off as you father pulled you in for a hug, arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace
After the initial shock you melted into it, clutching on to him as your heart stopped aching “Sorry” he says with a small chuckle pulling back “Please finish, I may have jumped the gun a bit but I couldn't stop myself”
You giggle at him before you take a second, building the confidence to say it out loud, something you hadn’t even done on your own to yourself “I think…I know I’m bisexual” you start shaky from ending firmly, feeling a weight off of your shoulders, as your uncle Remus would say ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’
He just smiles at you “I’m so proud of you pup” he says truly, hands on the sides of your shoulders “You’re a lot braver than your ol da”
Your eyes widen “Your?” you say a little surprised
He nods “yeah” he confirms verbally before lifting your legs lightly, motioning for you to let your legs dangle off the counter “Come here” he wraps his arm around you
You lean into him, turning your body so you could wrap your arms around his torso “When did you know?” you ask peering up at him
“Think I always knew, took me a very long time before I admitted it, too long” he admits a sad tone in his voice “So I completely understand why you were nervous” he holds you a little tighter “I love you so much pup, that will never ever change” he kisses your forehead
“I love you too dad” you smile up at him, you were still nervous about what it all meant but your dad’s overwhelming support made it a lot less scary
He let you talk, listening to everything you had to say, the good and bad thoughts that swirled in your head, your insecurities, first crushes, everything. He helped ease your worries and was more supportive than you could have ever dreamed, letting you know that you didn't have to prove anything to anyone, not to mention if anyone ever gave you shit he would kick their ass
“Did you ever date any boys?” you ask, wanting to know more about your fathers experiences
He smiles slyly “There was one boy…” he starts before proceeding to tell you one of the cutest love stories you had ever heard, a love story that was still active to this day
Thank you for reading and happy pride everyone 💛
#sirius black and reader#sirius black and you#sirius and daughter#sirius x reader#sirius black#dad sirius black#dad sirius#sirius black x you#sirius black x reader#golden era#lgbtq#robynsasks#sirius and reader#marauders#sirius x y/n#siriusblack
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🎶 well I think I'm gonna burn in hell 🎶
#not over it#never going to be over it#the head shoogle at 'we've got innocence for days'? kill me#mcr
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Digging in a new tub of powder for the little scoop is the closest I can get to recapturing the joy of shoogling in a new box of cereal for the toy
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One of the things I really love about Pokémon, especially the older titles, is how going through the game feels like checking off items on a to-do list. YouTuber @shoogles talks about this in his latest video, "An Exhaustive Look at Pokemon Brilliant Diamond," and he put into words marvelously what I've been feeling for years. I think FRLG is the ultimate expression of this; most of the game is clearing through routes at your own pace, and it's pretty open for a game that's so old, so you get to decide exactly how to move through the game. It's so satisfying to finish an area and move on to the next one.
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Rock Facts: Fun With Faults
I actually had this post in mind a couple of weeks ago, but then I got up on the 9th and decided that it... might be considered in poor taste that particular weekend. So I gave it a little while.
So, when you think of seismically-active regions, you generally think of places like California and Japan; Scotland is not very high on the list of places that spring immediately to mind. In fact, we get quite a lot of earth tremors every year! It's just that fortunately most of them are small enough that nobody who isn't staring intently at a seismograph at the time even notices, and most of the bigger ones are on the scale of 'huh, that must've been a big truck that just went past'.
There are three main fault zones (and a lot of smaller ones) running through Scotland to cause these little quakes, and interestingly you can see them pretty clearly on the satellite picture above.
The first I'll highlight is the Great Glen Fault.
It's a strike-slip fault (goes sideways) like San Andreas in California, though thankfully much less active, and runs from the Isle of Mull in the southwest to the Moray Firth in the northeast. The fault actually extends further in either direction, down through the north of Ireland and up towards Shetland, but those regions have different names so we won't worry about them not.
The fault leaves a particular line of weakness in the bedrock along the Great Glen that's been further scoured out by glacial activity; this is why Loch Ness is as deep as it is. It's not the biggest loch by surface area (that would be Loch Lomond) and it's not the deepest (Loch Morar), but the two combined make it easily the biggest by volume. As in, 'contains more freshwater than all the lakes in England and Wales combined'.
The Kessock Bridge, which you'll cross to drive north out of Inverness, is engineered to account for movement on the fault.
Secondly, the Southern Uplands Fault.
This one cuts across from South Ayrshire in the southeast to Dunbar in East Lothian. I actually don't know very much about it, but it's the divider between the gentle lowlands of the Central Belt and the higher ground of the Southern Uplands. Nice part of the country, actually.
Finally, the one I find most interesting: the Highland Boundary Fault.
Look back up at the unedited sat pic; you can see that it makes a very, very clear line from the Isle of Arran in the southwest, up across the southern end of Loch Lomond and through Perthshire, until it hits the coast again at Stonehaven just south of Aberdeen. The political and cultural dividers between the Highlands and the Lowlands are more complicated and outwith the scope of this post, but geologically? This is the boundary.
On the way, the fault passes through the small town of Comrie to the west of Perth, where it shoogles enough to make Comrie the most seismically-active place in Britain and give it the nickname of the Shaky Toun. It's also the site of the first modern seismometer, which was kept in the small building known as Earthquake House. Earthquake House is still a seismic observatory, though the equipment is a bit better these days.
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should i make a section of my shoogle geet for kin relationships (not necessarily romantic) that are kind of self ship to me
like the narrator being my platonic f/o is already kind of through a lens of me being stanley so
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honestly I think more people should (safely, as is reasonable relating to their physical & mental health, surroundings etc) just trip balls on a regular night for a good ol' brain reset
psychedelics are like the neural equivalent of a dog after a bath having a really good shoogle and I would love to expand on that if I ever figure out how
#dropping acid at a party or bonfire or whatever where you're Expected to be on substances is definitely fun#just Going About A Regulsr Evening while the walls are melting and everything is just a Bit Silly#that's the good brain shit
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