#AND EVEN THEN. EVEN THEN DATA CAN BE FOUND

[fanfic-reading-challenge]

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge

Welcome to another year of the Fanfic Reading Challenge (FRC)!

I won't bore you with the history of the challenge, this year, but I will welcome you to check out past posts that do explain some of it, as well as include a brief overview of what, exactly, this challenge is, though it does change year to year. (Essentially you read fics to complete goals and win bragging points and an artsy badge.)

This year is especially different, as I had the extreme pleasure of having @noxsoulmate as a partner in crime in keeping me hostage on track to completing this year's FRC. Another valued member of the mod team is @jandjsalmon and speaks for all of us if you need questions answered!

As for the challenge....

This is, indeed, a challenge. Of course.

First of all... you must obviously read fanfiction. As if you don't already!

You also need to download and make your own copy of the spreadsheet, which can be found here, as well as below in the important links section.

To participate in the challenge, you read fics that match the tasks in the challenge. An example of a task can be: "read a fic with a title containing the word purple in it." Should be easy! Of course, there are harder ones.

Which is why there are different modes of challenge to the FRC. These are as follows:

Participation (Complete 1 task)

Regular Mode (Complete 80 tasks)

Hard Mode (Complete 150 tasks)

Extreme Mode (Complete 220 tasks)

Complete (Complete 250 tasks)

The challenge lasts from January 1st, 2025, to December 31st, 2025.

There are badges that go with the modes completed, and even a secret 6th badge that will be fairly obvious if you look at the spreadsheet! Doesn't mean it'll be easy to complete though. *smirks* (Blame Noxy)

Most important of all: this challenge operates on the honour system. We don't check your work, or your reading logs (see below), so I mean, I guess if you want to be slippery with the rules, you do you, and that's on your conscience, but honestly it's so much fun to see how much you can get done by following the letter of the law/tasks! You can be slippery even with following the tasks fully. It's great fun. ;D

I think that's enough for an intro, really, maybe too much.

Important Links and Reading Logs/Trackers

As there is a component of the FRC that includes tracking numbers of words read, most of us use a reading log/tracker to keep count of how many fics we read, including data such as words, of course, chapters, month completed, ship, author, title, fandom, link to the fic, and such. It's a great place to mark what fics you want to read in the future as well!

This year we have FOUR trackers on offer, quite different from one another, so take a look, play around with them and check out their "intros", and choose according to what you think will work best for you!

Fic Tracking Sheets

Juulna's 2025 Reading Log

Noxy's 2025 Reading Log

2025 Jandy's Fic Tracker

Taru's Fic Tracker 2025

Discord

We have a blast on Discord. From general chatter to sharing pet pics to being there for each other during the tough times to forming lasting friendships and making friendships you’d never make in a ship- or fandom-specific Discord, to asking for help ‘rolling the dice’ (pick a number between 1-10!) to choose the next fic to read, to finding some of the really challenging task fills in fandoms people might not have ever read but are willing to try, or finding fandoms someone has never read and is very tentative about stepping out of their box, but they’re being 100% supported and know they don’t need to complete the fic for it to count for the task, stepping out of their comfort zone… we’ve formed a very odd group of, if not friends, then companions (but there are definite friendships that have formed!! Just ask the people who have started watching NHL and NFL together in our off topic channel!).

In any case, our Discord is not necessary, but it is a worthy and tactical element to completing many of the tasks of this challenge. 💙

And.... without further ado....!

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge! (link)

There is an info/rules page as the first sheet on the spreadsheet that should fill in any further questions you have. It also has more contact info than just this page if you have any further questions and perhaps need a more immediate answer for your needs.

*Occasionally you will run into something that looks like an error, and it may in fact be one! Let us know if you see it. It's hard not to make a mistake on as large a spreadsheet as this.*

Please, first of all, have fun and just read fanfiction that you enjoy! I (Juulna) did that last year and didn't even come close to completing the entire challenge, and I still had a blast because I was enjoying what I was reading and rereading. Others took the challenge right to the completed end. Others forgot about it halfway through but still had fun, and some even went back and filled in the sheet for a really good showing! The challenge is what you make of it, what you want from it. So... just have fun. Read fic. Smile. Enjoy. :)

Second of all... well, we would love if you signal boost this post!!!!

Third of all, we do have our pinned post that includes a link to this page and that will include a link to our Discord and all our trackers as well, including past links for memento and informative purposes.

Thank you, and a blessed 2025 to all!

[marimayscarlett]

I seem to be haunted a bit by bad luck on here - prepared an answer for an ask yesterday, but instead of posting it, Tumblr swallowed the ask and it's nowhere to be found. Since I always type my answers in a Word document, I still have it and answer it in a proper post. The ask was signed with "RZK obsessor", so if that's you, here's your answer to your ask 🔎 which was something along the lines of:

Anon: Can you confirm the existence of RZK?

Hi 👋

Now ☝ Getting to the bottom of this kind of fundamental question does require a bit of a planned approach and care. So, at the start of the research process, one should ask which approach and research path to take when tackling this question: the philosophical route, the one of scientific research, or perhaps one's own wealth of experience? I’d say, let’s just go with all three.

Philosophical thoughts on the existence of our beloved Richard

From a philosophical standpoint, one must first ask - are we dealing with Richard as a tangible, real entity, or is this a collection of idealized versions of fundamental concepts? Wishful and idealistic projections designed to show just how diverse a single individual can be? Included in this are the epitome of confident presence on stage:

the audaciously good looks in every kind of stage outfit, be it leather, dramatic coats, feathers or questionable sleeves (wet or not):

and the efortless serving of rock star attitude, no matter how tight the clothing:

as well as exuding the most cozy vibes in rather eyebrow-raise-inducing attire:

Richard embodies so many concepts in one person that it’s hard to believe such traits can coexist in a single individual - perhaps Richard is Schrödinger's guitarist? Simultaneously existing and not existing, until you see him live and promptly lose all sense of composure...

2. Scientific research and evaluation of existing data on the topic of the existence of Richard

Like any good scientist, one must disclose the sources used and where one has gained knowledge and insights in order to report on their research in a credible manner.

To get to the bottom of the question of Richard’s existence, I have spent nearly the last 10 years meticulously studying every music video and their corresponding making ofs to the point where I can recite every line by heart (even the ones that make me want to sink into the ground out of secondhand embarrassment - "so ein Gesäuge", I’m looking at you). I went to the cinema three times to analyze Richard's presence on the big screen, absorbed recordings of live performances to examine and cross-reference his alluring movements on stage, and created a seven-page long table in Word to organize his interviews by date and topic, tracking his statements and quotes - I mean, quotes like the following have to be proof that this man exist, who else could express things like that so calmly, right?:

Every fur frog tastes different. Pure question of taste. There is no judgment in the text. We’re not saying it stinks.

I believe the music itself must be the king, but I want to be the queen.

The result of this research so far: Things are looking pretty good that Richard actually exists! But I understand what you mean - sometimes it’s hard to believe that this person truly walks, no, struts among us on this earth.

That’s why I had no choice this year but to take my research to the active side of things. Which brings us to:

3. The fan experience as a way to proof his existence once and for all - with my own two eyes

Even though we have countless recordings at concerts of him, from the 90's:

to the 2000s:

all the way into the 2010's:

to today:

it’s still hard to truly grasp that he exists in flesh and blood. Even I sometimes catch myself looking at pictures of him and thinking, “Wow… he actually exists! He’s real!”, fascinated anew every single time.

This year, as part of my research, I was fortunate enough to practice my research in the Feuerzone three times, and I must say: the moment Richard stepped onto the stage, I was often left speechless. He has an incredibly majestic presence, very focused and fully immersed in his role as the serious rock star - with moments of warmth (towards his band mates) and small glimpses into his thoughts (the annoyed look he gave in Dresden when he forgot his pyro arm for DRSG was so expressive; he rolled his eyes so hard, he surely could see into his brain). I was utterly captivated and thoroughly enjoyed watching him play and use iconic gestures (like during Du hast 👆☝✋👉), and to witness his presence and mannerism live on stage really was a highlight for me. Here's some of my research footage (grainy and shaky, and please be aware of me screaming, but all in the name of science):

After this intense period of dedicated research, I can confidently say: You don't confirm Richard's existence - you witness and experience it 😌

[lxndonorris]

games - Franco Colapinto

Y/N x Franco Colapinto Theme: Smutty, Teasing, Touching playing teasing games with Franco word count: 3520+ taglist: @game-set-canet @cloud-55 open for requests :)

The hum of the paddock was always the same. Mechanics bustled between the garages, engineers huddled over laptops, and the faint smell of burnt rubber and motor oil lingered in the air. 

It was race weekend, and as a member of Williams' strategy department, your mind was consumed with tire degradation rates, fuel calculations, and weather forecasts.

This weekend was different, though; Franco Colapinto had been brought in as a replacement for the remainder of the season. It wasn't uncommon for drivers to shuffle in and out, but his arrival left you with mixed feelings.

While his talent was undeniable, his presence also underscored the volatility of the sport. 

One moment you're on top; the next, you're replaced.

You tried to keep your head down and focus on your work, but Franco had other ideas.

From the moment he stepped into the Williams garage, he exuded confidence—maybe too much. His charming smile seemed to disarm everyone around him, and his jokes quickly won over the mechanics. 

You wanted to be immune to it. After all, you weren't here to be dazzled by a driver; you were here to perform as best as possible. 

Still, there was something about his energy that made him hard to ignore.

Friday morning was spent poring over practice session data. By the time the clock struck noon, you were desperate for a break. Slipping away from the chaos, you found a quiet corner of the hospitality area. The cool breeze and a cup of coffee were all you needed to reset your mind.

But, of course, that peace was short-lived.

"Found you," came a smooth voice from behind.

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Franco had a knack for making his presence known.

"What do you want, Colapinto?" You asked, keeping your tone neutral as you sipped your coffee.

"Is that how you greet all our teammates?" He teased, sliding into the chair across from you. 

He didn't wait for an invitation, naturally.

"I'm not sure we're teammates," you countered, setting your cup down. "You're here to drive; I'm here to strategize."

"Semantics," he said with a shrug. "We're both here for the same goal, aren't we?"

His casual confidence was maddening, but you refused to let it get under your skin.

"Did you need something, or are you just here to disrupt my break?"

He grinned, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better. You seem... interesting."

"Interesting?" You echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's vague."

"Charming, sharp, beautiful. Should I go on?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"Flattery doesn't work on me."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second," he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. "But if it doesn't, I'll just have to try harder."

It was infuriating how effortlessly he pushed your buttons. And yet, you couldn't deny the thrill of it. 

If he wanted to play this game, you'd make sure you won.

Careful, Franco," you said, letting your fingers brush over his arm as you stood. "You don't want to bite off more than you can chew."

His breath hitched just barely—a subtle reaction, but one you didn't miss. He tilted his head, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. 

"I think I can handle it."

"Good luck, then," you said, walking away before he could respond.

---

The day went on, and you managed to avoid Franco for the most part. But by the time the evening rolled around, you found yourself thinking about your brief encounter. 

He was charming, funny, and annoyingly attractive. And yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that getting involved with him was a bad idea. He was a temporary replacement, after all. What was the point in letting yourself get tangled up in something that might not last?

But Franco wasn't the type to give up easily.

---

Saturday morning brought more practice sessions and strategy meetings. You were buried in data when Franco strolled into the engineering office, his helmet tucked under one arm.

"You look busy," he said, leaning casually against the desk.

"I am," you replied without looking up.

"Maybe I can help," he offered, his tone playful.

"Unless you've suddenly become an expert in race strategy, I doubt it."

"I might surprise you," he said, stepping closer.

You glance up at him, your lips curving into a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure you're full of surprises."

His eyes flickered to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to crackle. Then, just as quickly, you returned your focus to the laptop in front of you, leaving him standing there.

But Franco wasn't one to be ignored. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear.

"You know, if you keep teasing me like this, I might start to think you enjoy it."

You turned to face him, your faces inches apart. 

"And if I do?"

His grin widened. "Then I'd say we're going to have a lot of fun."

With that, he straightened up and walked away, leaving you to wonder what exactly you'd gotten yourself into.

---

A few hours later, the buzz of post-qualifying energy filled the air as team members analyzed data and discussed strategies for the race.

The car had shown steady performance, and Franco had managed to secure P13—a good result considering the car's limitations this season and his inexperience with it all.

You sat in the corner of the engineering office, reviewing telemetry and tire degradation patterns when the door swung open, revealing Franco. His white racing suit clung to him, the logos proudly displayed on his chest. His hair was damp, slightly tousled from the helmet, and a faint sheen of sweat made him look effortlessly rugged.

"P13," he announced with a grin, his voice bright as he strode into the room. "Not bad for the new guy, huh?"

You glance up from your screen and nodded.

"Not bad at all. You might even be worth keeping around."

His grin widened as he leaned against the desk beside you.

"High praise coming from you. I was beginning to think I'd never win you over."

"You still haven't," you said, letting your lips curve into a smirk. "But you're off to a decent start."

He chuckled, his dark eyes locked on yours.

"I'll take that as a challenge."

As the room cleared out, people heading off to dinner or more meetings, Franco lingered. His teasing continued, lighthearted at first, but his words grew bolder with each exchange.

"You know," he said, his voice low, "I think you like having me around more than you let on."

"And why would you think that?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because you're still here talking to me instead of running off like everyone else," he said, his tone smug. "Admit it—you’re intrigued."

You leaned back in your chair, studying him.

"Intrigued? Maybe, impressed? Not quite."

His laugh was soft, and he leaned in closer, his arms crossed as he rested them on the desk. 

"You're tough to crack, you know that?"

"Maybe you're just not trying hard enough," you shot back, your tone playful.

Beneath the table, an idea crossed your mind.

Without a word, you let your foot drift toward him. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged the tip of your shoe along his calf. You felt him tense ever so slightly, his smirk faltering for just a fraction of a second before returning, sharper than before.

His eyes darkened, but he played it cool.

"Oh, so that's how you want to play?" he murmured.

You didn't respond, instead letting your foot continue its slow journey up his leg, brushing over his knee and toward his thigh. His breathing quickened, though he did his best to hide it. When your foot reached just beneath the edge of his suit, you stopped, withdrawing just enough to leave him wanting more.

"You were saying?" you asked, your voice innocent.

He cleared his throat, his grin never fading.

"I think you're enjoying this even more than I am."

You tilted your head, feigning indifference. 

"Maybe. Maybe not."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"How about we find out?"

Your heart skipped, but you kept your composure.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Meet me later," he said, his words deliberate. "My motorhome."

For a moment, you let the suggestion hang in the air, the weight of it pressing down on both of you. Then, with a coy smile, you leaned back in your chair.

"We'll see."

He laughed softly, shaking his head as he stood. In one swift motion, he unzipped his suit just enough to grant you a glimpse of the blue fireproofs beneath.

"You're going to drive me crazy, aren't you?"

"Only if you're lucky," you replied, watching as he walked away.

As the door closed behind him, you exhaled deeply, your mind racing. You didn't want to admit it, but the thought of meeting him sent a thrill through you that was impossible to ignore.

---

An hour later, you found yourself standing outside Franco's motorhome, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. Your heart was pounding. Was this the right decision? Yet, something about him—his charm, his confidence, his maddening ability to make you second-guess everything—had drawn you here.

You knocked, the sound feeling louder than it should in the quiet paddock. A moment later, the door opened, and there he was.

Franco stood in the doorway, still in his racing gear, the upper half loosely hanging down around his waist. The tight blue Nomex undershirt clung to his chest and arms, highlighting every contour. His hair was still slightly damp, and his grin was as infuriatingly cocky as ever.

"You came," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, his voice laced with amusement.

"You invited me," you replied, your tone light but guarded.

"And I didn't think you'd actually show up," he admitted, stepping aside to let you in. "Come on, make yourself comfortable."

You hesitated for only a second before stepping into the motorhome. It was cozy, the space designed for function but with enough personal touches to make it feel lived-in. A small table and couch sat to one side, a kitchenette on the other. The faint scent of something fresh—maybe soap—lingered in the air.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you turned to find Franco watching you, his arms crossed and that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not bad," you said, glancing around. "I expected it to be messier."

He chuckled, stepping closer.

"What can I say? I like to keep things in order. Well, most things."

You raised an eyebrow. "And the things you don't?"

"Those tend to be more fun," he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken again.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

"You're relentless, you know that?"

"And you're impossible to ignore," he countered, closing the distance between you.

The teasing back-and-forth began almost immediately. His fingers brushed against your back as he passed you, a casual touch that sent shivers down your spine. 

You retaliated by letting your hand linger on his arm, tracing the toned muscle beneath the fabric. His grin only widened.

"You're not making this easy," he said, his voice low.

"Good," you replied, leaning against the small table. "I wouldn't want to."

He moved closer, his eyes searching yours as he rested his hands on either side of you, caging you in without actually touching you.

"You're going to drive me insane," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You tilted your head, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Maybe that's the point."

His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension. Slowly, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. Your heart raced, your breath catching as his fingers brushed against your back again, this time more deliberate, more lingering.

You let your hand slide up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Your fingers drifted to his shoulders, then down his arms, before finally brushing over his thigh.

His breath hitched, his composure faltering ever so slightly, and you knew you had him.

But just as his lips were about to meet yours, you pulled away, stepping aside with a teasing smile.

"Not so fast," you said, your voice light and playful.

His eyes darkened, and he let out a low laugh, shaking his head. 

"You're cruel, you know that?"

"Am I?" You ask innocently, though the gleam in your eyes betrayed you.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mingled with amusement.

"You're going to be the death of me."

You shrugged, moving toward the couch and sitting down, crossing one leg over the other. 

"Maybe. But you'll enjoy every second of it."

Franco stood there for a moment, his hands on his hips, as if deciding whether to let you win this round. Finally, he let out a breath, his smirk returning.

"You're trouble," he said, joining you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours. "And I like it."

You lean closer, your voice a whisper. 

"You have no idea."

The air between you felt electric, the tension thick as you leaned in just enough to close the distance without actually touching him. 

Franco stayed still, watching you with a mix of amusement and anticipation. His restraint was admirable, but you could see the flicker of desire in his eyes. 

He knew you were playing with him, and yet he let you—whether it was curiosity, confidence, or sheer temptation, you couldn't tell.

You let your hands roam over his chest, your fingers trailing along the lines of his toned muscles beneath the fabric of his Nomex shirt. His breath grew shallow, his chest rising and falling in time with the slow, deliberate movements of your hands.

You lingered at his collarbone, letting your fingers drift upward to his neck, where you caressed the sharp line of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the faintest hint of a stubble grazing your fingertips.

With your other hand, you let your fingers slide down to his thigh, brushing over the firm muscle just barely. The touch was light, teasing, a mere whisper of contact that made him shift slightly under your hand.

His lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just watched you, his gaze dark and intense, as if daring you to push him further.

"You're quiet," you said softly, your thumb brushing over the edge of his jaw.

"You're in control," he replied, his voice rougher than usual, a low hum that sent a thrill down your spine. "For now."

The confidence in his tone made you smirk. 

You let your fingers on his thigh press down a little more, moving in slow circles that barely grazed where you knew he wanted them. He shifted again, his composure slipping just enough to make your teasing worth it.

"Franco," you murmured, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his ear. "You're enjoying this too much."

He chuckled, the sound soft but strained.

"You don't know half of it."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still exploring his jawline while your other hand continued its slow, deliberate movements on his thigh.

His eyes were locked on yours, his restraint remarkable given the circumstances. 

It was a game now—one you weren't sure either of you wanted to win.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, you leaned in, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was soft but purposeful. He hesitated yet gave in, his hand moving to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss, his restraint giving way to the desire he'd been holding back.

The moment felt charged, every touch, every movement heightened by the tension that had been building between you.

Your hand on his thigh moved slightly, your fingers brushing against him just enough to draw a sharp intake of breath from him. 

You smiled against his lips, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted. You let your touch linger, a faint stroke that sent a shiver through him.

When you finally pull back, his eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath shallow as he looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and frustration.

"Was that what you wanted?" you asked, your voice low, teasing.

He smirked, running a hand through his tousled hair. 

"It's a start."

Your fingers, still on his thigh, pressed down a little more deliberately, tracing slow, deliberate circles over the firm muscle. He tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching just barely, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, a challenge glinting in the dark depths.

"Patience," you murmured, letting your fingers drift a little higher, teasingly brushing along the edge of where he wanted them most.

His jaw tightened, and you could feel the restraint it took for him to let you lead, to let you play this game.

"You're relentless," he whispered, his voice rough and low.

"Only because it's fun," you replied, your lips curving into a mischievous smile.

You leaned in again, letting your lips hover just over his, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against yours. At the same time, you let your fingers slide up his thigh once more, giving him the faintest, gentlest squeeze. 

His breath hitched again, sharper this time, and you couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped you.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice tight, his control fraying at the edges.

You didn't answer, instead letting your hand linger, your touch slow and deliberate as you felt the tension coiling in him, the way his body reacted to every subtle movement. 

Your other hand moved back to his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the tight, slightly damp fabric of his shirt, before sliding upward to cup his jaw.

His eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, and you took the opportunity to lean in, pressing your lips to his in another slow, lingering kiss. 

This time, he didn't hold back. 

His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer as he kissed you with a hunger that made your heart race. His other hand cupped your face, his fingers warm and steady against your skin.

But just as he was beginning to take control, you pulled back, breaking the kiss and pulling away from his touch. Your fingers trailed down his chest one last time before sliding back to his thigh, giving him one final squeeze. 

You smirked as his eyes opened, dark and heavy with frustration and need.

"So much trouble. You're impossible," he said, his voice husky.

"Maybe," you replied, standing up slowly, letting your fingers linger on his thigh until the last possible moment. "But you're still letting me win."

He laughed softly, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch. 

At first, he exhaled and raised an arm, stroking the back of his head. The movement made his toned chest stand out even more, the fabric of his undershirt clinging to him as he stretched slightly, trying to shake off the tension you'd left behind.

"I'm letting you think you're winning."

You turned back to him, raising an eyebrow, watching him closely.

As he leaned back against the sofa, his head resting against the cushions, he let out a long, steadying breath. His hand moved almost instinctively to his chest, following the path your fingers had traced moments before.

His fingers slid over the fabric of his nomex shirt, pressing lightly against his chest as though trying to capture the sensations you'd left behind.

His other hand drifted lower, brushing over his stomach and coming to rest near the visible strain inside his suit. His bulge was unmistakable, the tension evident even through the tightly fitted material. 

"Oh, is that what you're telling yourself?"

He smirked, the heat in his eyes unwavering.

"You'll see."

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw tightening as he let his hand hover over his bulge, his fingers flexing slightly.

It was as though he was chasing the lingering heat of your touch, replaying every teasing stroke, every deliberate squeeze in his mind.

The ghost of your fingers on his thigh, the press of your hand against his jaw, the softness of your lips—all of it hung in the air between you, even though you stood up.

He exhaled sharply, his hand brushing against the strain, his body responding to the memory of the game you'd just played. A low chuckle escaped his lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Next time, I'll make sure to win."

You laughed, stepping toward the door.

"Goodnight, Franco."

Goodnight," he called after you, his voice rich with amusement. As you slipped out of the motorhome and into the cool night air, you couldn't stop the smile that tugged at your lips.

This was a game you weren't sure either of you wanted to end.

[stellardeer]

From the article:

Is there a way we can get this number higher, who did they even poll, I feel like this number should be higher 🤔

Wait nvm, I found the results and the polls are all closed, but I feel like they did not get enough data lmfao

https://today.yougov.com/topics/politics/explore/topic/Health_Insurance

To be fair 40% of responses said "don't know" when asked their opinion of him.

Only 1136 responses, again, I feel like this representation could be better, who even are these 1000 people? If you ask 1000 americans on tumblr the same questions you would get wildly different results...

(aka snag the photo opp)

[exoflash]

the only thing that irritates me as badly as new agers is western christians trying to explain away the spiritual with pseudoscience

[ganondoodle]

the company i work for decided that its switching from the german formal "You"(Sie) to the informal "you" (Du) in all of our websites so now we have to scour the entire database to change it and i quite frankly hate that, not just bc the unecessary extra work but especially bc its such a weird and unecessary change

i bet its bc everything here is getting englishfied (both literally and culturally it feels like, when my new boss talks its half in english bc every second german word is just replaced by an english one despite there being perfectly fine words for it in german too, its so annoying) and bc they want to sound more personal in hopes of getting more clients bc 'company is your fwiend uwu!!', i know this here is the amercian tm site so you wouldnt understand really but i do not want to be greeted with 'du' by companies, no, thats too personal, you dont know me and im not giving you my data, stay away!!

i guess thats how i would describe it .. the formal you is like a polite distance, like someone you dont know staying outside your personal space, but when its the informal 'you' it feels invasive unless i told you you can call me that, and that goes double for companies

maybe its a small thing that doesnt seem important but i cant stand it, im just a little part time worker doing data work so i got no say in it but the companies founder also announced hes giving his post to his kids some time ago so ...... since then theres been alot of changes and new projects that solely aim to imitate whats popular and whats done by other companies, despite ours being one that is, or used to be, intentionally different, like, that was the POINT, but i guess chasing trends is just too appealing for CEOs

[therentyoupay]

Hello, Kris! I think I might’ve already gotten the gist of it, but it’s been some time. What exactly IS Academia Mode? Are you still in school, or is this your actual job, and it just happens to be involved in the education system?

Many thanks!

hahah no worries!!! that is a good question 🤣😭😭🙏 for me, academia mode is currently finishing the 5th and final year of my doctoral program and includes (but is not limited to lol):

data collection, analysis, write-ups

writing python programs to support my data cleaning, data coding, stats, and data analysis/visualizations

applying for GRANT MONEYYYY

submitting abstract proposals to conferences (and applying for MORE GRANT MONEYYYY)

reporting research findings (writing journal article manuscripts, preparing conference slides)

writing my actual dissertation manuscript lol

supporting and instructing my research assistants

sharing my research with mainstream public audiences

writing my non-fiction book based on my ongoing dissertation research

teaching classes, grading papers, holding office hours, fielding emails, writing letters of recommendation for all sorts of students' fellowships/grad admissions/grant applications, teaching students how to strategize their personal statements, grant purpose letters, and other aspects of apps, etc.

peer-reviewing others' journal manuscripts, providing feedback to colleagues (blind review or not)

assisting with my advisor's research and textbook manuscripts (proofreading, copy-editing, internet sleuthing, finding more up-to-date citations, occasionally writing rough drafts)

writing chapters for edited volumes on various topics

READING. all the time. reading new literature and research articles constantly. ALL THE TIME. writing 1-pagers and mini-annotated bibs for future lit review use, etc.

WRITING. all the time. professional-speak, academic-speak, insructor-speak.

getting paid to travel to conferences to present my research (GRANT MONEYYYYYY)

by may 2025, i'll be a Ph.D.!!!!!! [screams]

academia mode! ✨🤣🤣🤣😭🤣💕 every day, i think about how lucky i am that i get paid to do what i do 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 hope you are having a magnificent day, and thank you for the ask!!

[ribbitflings]

the absolute fucking letdown when youre excited af about something cool you found that pertains to your interests—thats like a gold mine or candy shop for you—and you try to share it with other people so they can enjoy it too, only to be met with disinterest or feeble attempts at feigning interest

[gamebunny-advance]

Today's NSR Trivia: Rare(?) DJSS + DK West Art

Likely due to being the first proper boss in the game, DJ Subatomic Supernova has a lot of unused/cut content, including a theme for a nonexistent "approach" level (which can be heard in the "NSR Approach Megamix"), cut voice lines, and no debriefing profile.

While the official twitter has shared what this hypothetical debriefing would have entailed, I don't think the unused art for his profile has ever been posted through a first party source or exists in the game's files.

However, it is viewable in a Steam trading card.

Similarly, DK West, who also lacks a proper debriefing, is a part of this set and thus also has unique art only shown in these trading cards.

Whether this art was drawn specifically for the trading cards or if the art existed prior is currently unknown. (Though I personally suspect the latter.)

[hurricanek8art]

Okay, y'know what, instead of dwelling today... I'm posting a little bit of my SWTOR art. I'm sharing something that brings me joy, even if it's scary. The sun yet shines, and I want something good to think about.

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

the way in which this team of apparently highly trained police officers goes about researching their cases is so frustrating. like what do you mean you're only checking whether kao used his phone after he left art's place after you found out he left at all. why did you just. assume. kao died there at the studio. and why has it taken you literal days of thinking of 'hey maybe we should find out if kao has anyone he trusts he can stay with while hiding'. all of these things should be at the top of the list. full phone records, lists of family and friends. you've got a missing person who may or may not be dead and you're just kind of winging the case as you go???

[neonsbian]

deleted tumblr off my phone 😁

[nerdnag]

jfc i am so tired of always having to assume that there's an undisclosed, required app involved whenever i buy something these days

[primrosebitch]

So im still using my iphone 6s, which i got in early 2017, and why, you may ask, am i still using a 7 year old phone? I have 2 reasons for this, 1) i refuse to have a phone without a headphone jack, i will not suffer the indignity of it, and 2) i don't want to deal with learning a new operating system, because stupid apple doesn't sell phones with headphone jacks anymore i will need to get a phone that uses a different operating system

I have many reasons for wanting a headphone jack, i don't want to have to worry about charging my headphones, i have adhd i don't need to add more things to the list of things i need to do but won't remember, i like having the cord and its more convenient to just plug it in to use the headphones than to have to go into settings and bluetooth and all that, and sure in iphones without the jack you can plug it in to the charger part but what if i want to charge my phone and use my headphones at the same time, and like i know there are adapters out there that can make that possible but again i have adhd i will not be able to keep track of it.

So my next phone can't be an iphone, which tbh is good because apple is shit, but the issue with that is that any other phone i get will be using a different operating system, so i'll have to learn and get used to a new operating system, and i don't do well with change, so im going to use this old phone until it ceases to function

[katyspersonal]

Okay, I have Bloodborne gaming question

How TO enter specific dungeons glyphs? I honestly don't know, I keep seeing videos of players just set up a chalice dungeon by entering a glyph, but I do NOT see a field for this. And so far the only even remote explanation I could gather is that I have to be online at least once for data on them to load, is that true?

I've never entered Bloodborne online in my life lmao - physically can't do that because of my location - but I think I am onto a way to walk around this problem recently, so I want to know whether it's worth it? Guys if you can help let me know, I deadass can't find a coherent explanation what to do ANYwhere

[gotchaocha]

Hmm why did I just find about this site of character.AI that allows people to “speak” with famous characters and shit and why do i feel like people are not using it for funsies but to further a parasocial relationship with someone that isn´t real/does not have a relationship with them