#Bear Totem Pole

[rabbitcruiser]

Teddy Day

Teddy Day is an annual event held every February 10. We are ecstatic to be celebrating love and companionship via one fluffy friend that is always there no matter what — Teddies! Teddy bears, as the name implies, are stuffed toys often made to resemble a bear, and bears are known for their hugs, although fatal. But ours is one of love which is what this day is all about.

History of Teddy Day

Stuffed toys have been children’s best toys since ancient times. They are soft, squishy, and a good companion for all. In the Roman Empire, the children of the rich had wooden carved toys in the shape of animals and humans they played with, and it was such that only the children of the rich could afford and get them. So the children of the low class and peasants developed ragdolls made from clothes and straws, and over the years, they evolved into stuffed toys as we know them in the world today.

Teddy bears are soft fluffy toys in the shape of bears that evoke feelings of love and warmth when we hold and hug them. They come in different sizes; small, medium, large, and even plus size. Like all other stuffed toys, Teddy bears have evolved from being toys for children to being toys for everyone, including men and women. So during the cold, lonely nights and when we��re feeling emotionally down or happy, teddy bears serve as a great cuddle companion.

Teddy bears got their name in 1902 after President Theodore Roosevelt in a series of events that happened when he went on a hunting trip. During hunting, they happened upon a bear, and President Roosevelt refused to shoot it. The story soon spread all over, and the first stuffed bears were developed by toymakers Morris Michtom in the U.S, and Richard Steiff in Germany, and they were named ‘Teddy bears,’ after President Roosevelt’s pet name.

Teddy Day is a time to show love to our special persons and significant others by gifting them teddy bears. It shows how special they are to us and the warm and lovable feelings they bring to us, just like teddies.

Teddy Day timeline

1880 First Stuffed Toy

The first modern stuffed toy in the shape of an elephant is sold as a pincushion by the German Steiff Company.

1902 The Inception of Teddy Bears

After the incident with President Roosevelt where he refused to shoot a bear on a hunting trip, stuffed teddy bears are developed and become popular.

1906 Bear Book

A book on bears is written by Seymour Eaton, a children’s books series called “The Roosevelt Bears.”

1984 Teddy Museum

The first Teddy Bear Museum is set up in England.

Teddy Day FAQs

Why are Teddies so comforting?

Their fluffiness and softness possess a calming ability that eases the mind and emotions. Research has found that cuddling them releases oxytocin which calms the body.

At what age should a child stop sleeping with Teddies?

There is no specific age limit to sleeping with or having teddies. More than just being toys, they are also tools of convenience.

Can a baby sleep with a teddy?

It had been advised not to put stuffed toys beside children below 12 months because of the risks of death by strangulation or suffocation.

Teddy Day Activities

Gift a Teddy

Buy a Teddy

Become a Teddy

How can you observe Teddy Day without a Teddy? Gift your special someone a teddy bear and tell them how much you love them.

Other than giving teddies to your special someone, this is also a good time to get one for yourself. Visit your favorite stores and get yourself a fluffy teddy companion on this day.

Your partner might have lots of teddies already, putting you at a fix, but not to worry. Instead, rent a teddy bear costume to entertain your partner and make their day.

5 Important Facts About Teddies

Winnie the Pooh

Spacefarer bear

Teddy Magazine

Teddy Guinness record

World biggest Teddy

The most famous teddy in the world, Winnie the Pooh, created by author A. A Milne is named after a female bear named Winnipeg in the London zoo he frequented with his son.

The first teddy bear to journey into space is named Magellan T. Bear, which joined the NASA shuttle mission in 1995.

There is a magazine dedicated to teddy bears that has more than 40,000 subscribers called “Teddy Bears and Friends.”

The largest teddy bear collection in the world is 20,367, owned by Istvánné Arnóczki in Hungary on April 27, 2019.

The biggest Teddy bear in the world is located in Estado de Mexico, at 63 feet and eight inches.

Why We Love Teddy Day

Teddies are lovable toys

Helps on cold lonely nights

Teddies can be therapeutic

The fluffiness and cute appearance of teddy bears make us easily fall in love with them. Many manufacturers make them have wide beautiful eyes and innocent-like looks, which warms the heart and sends warm feelings always.

Some nights can be very terrible without a cuddle companion nearby. Teddies are one cuddle companions we can always count on to help us through the cold, lonely nights.

Research has found that cuddling a Teddy bear can be calming. Police, medical and fire officials reiterate the fact that giving a child a teddy during a crisis has calming effects on them.

Source

[zal-cryptid]

SCP-5520 | SCP-5977 | SCP-7056

[pumpkinstep]

yeah I'm Alaskan native , im like kinda a big deal

[atlaculture]

Cultural Architecture: NWT Totem Poles - The Specifics Pt. 2

Among most of the totem poles we see throughout the Northern Water Tribe (NWT), four representations appear consistently throughout. For this post, I will be covering the final two.

Koi Fish

The third totem is clearly a koi fish with long whiskers and a marking on its forehead. In other words, it's a reference to the physical forms of the moon and ocean spirit. I can't help but wonder if Aang's realization of Tui and La's true forms was unconsciously informed by the all the koi head totems omnipresent throughout the NWT.

Culturally, koi fish are yet another example of the Chinese influence in the NWT. In Chinese culture, koi represent fame, family harmony and wealth. There's also a famous Chinese folktale about koi fish and other carp:

Along the Yellow River, there is a legendary waterfall that cascades from a magical mountain top known as Longmen (登龍門), meaning the Dragon's Gate. If a carp can swim upstream against the currents and hop over the waterfall into Longmen, the fish will transform into a dragon.

Thus, koi fish can also represent determination, courage, and perseverance. The connection between koi and dragons also strengthens the fan theory that the dragons Ran and Shaw might be the Fire Nation's equivalent to Tui and La. Perhaps the dragons are the spirit of Sun and Fire respectively?

Wolf

The totem beneath the koi depicts a wolf. The wolf head totem also bares a striking resemblance to the headdress that Sokka wears in "Day of the Black Sun" (Season 3, Episode 11). Wolves are prominent figures in the mythologies of many Indigenous American cultures, particularly those whose societies were oriented around hunting.

Within different Inuit groups, wolves are called amarok (multiple groups), amagok (Inuvialuit), and amaguk (Inupiat). These names refer both to normal wolves and to the gigantic, supernatural wolf of Inuit religion. There are two Amarok-focused tales that I'd like to detail in this post:

A persecuted and physically stunted boy seeks to increase his strength. When he calls out to the lord of strength, Amarok appears and wrestles him to the ground with its tail. This causes a number of small bones to fall from the boy's body. The Amarok tells the boy that the bones had prevented his growth; he instructs the boy to return daily in order to develop his strength. After several days of wrestling with the Amarok, the boy is strong enough to overcome three large bears, thus gaining him the esteem of his village.

The land was once full of caribou; the people lived well and were happy. But the hunters only killed those caribou that were big and strong. Soon all that was left were the weak and the sick. The people began to starve. And so they called upon Amorak, the spirit of the wolf, to winnow out the weak and the sick, so that the herd would once again be strong. The people realized that the caribou and the wolf were one, for although the caribou feeds the wolf, it is the wolf that keeps the caribou strong.

From these two stories, we get quite a nuanced conception of what the wolf represents in Inuit culture. While wolves represent strength in many cultures, these tales really emphasize the wolf as a creature that strengthens those around it. Through this worldview, we understand strength not as an innate or individualistic quality, but one that's nurtured through mentorship and interdependence.

This makes Sokka's adoption of wolf imagery during "Day of Black Sun" all the more appropriate. Sokka is certainly not the most powerful character in the show, but his role as the leader strengthens the group as a whole.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

[bonaesperanza]

Padmé is Load Bearing for Anakin, and by late RotS she is the only thing that is helping him maintain his sense of self.

Let me explain ^^.

a) Anakin grew up in an environment where people could beat him, and punish him, and deprive him of anything they wanted, and order him around, simply because they were powerful, and he wasn't, and there was nothing he could do about it except make himself useful as best he can. The only things he can rely on is his own competence and his own usefulness. This probably instilled in him some ideas about How The World Works.

b) The counterpoint to this, obviously, is Shmi, with her philosophy of kindness and helping each other out - emotionally, this rings true, and Shmi fulfills Anakin's psychological needs in a way nobody else does, and he wants to make her happy and proud. But Shmi too is powerless to stop anything that's happening to her.

Then the Jedi come, and they take him on. Why? Because he is good at things. Because he is powerful. He won the podrace. He is strong in the Force. Shmi, who is not powerful, is left behind.

The Jedi philosophy preaches b), but the shape of the events surrounding Anakin's acceptance into the Order, from Anakin's POV, screams a). Obviously there is more nuance to it, but not nuance that Anakin would be able to perceive or understand.

This creates a kind of inherent tension in the way Anakin approaches the world, because over and over again he is in situations where, to gain the approval and affection of his loved ones, Anakin should be b), but what's effective, what gets him where he wants to be, is a). Except, unlike with Shmi and the slavers, the Jedi are kind of both sides simultaneously, in his eyes.

Except there's also Padmé. Padmé, when she meets Anakin, is nobody to him, and he is nobody to her. She is obviously high up on the societal totem pole (though he doesn't yet know how high), and she has little obvious use for him, she has nothing to do with the Jedi or midichlorian counts or strength in the Force, but she is still nice, and caring, and kind.

Then, he learns that she's the fucking Queen of Naboo. Can you imagine how he feels about that? In his eyes, she really is an angel. Unlike Shmi, she's not a fellow disenfranchised person, she is so high up he really can't be of any use to her at all, and she still took the time to comfort him and treat him as a person.

Now Anakin knows that there is a person - outside of his immediate family - who will care about him even if he's not useful or powerful. It's no wonder he keeps thinking about her for years - he's struggling with being a good Jedi, with reconciling the abovementioned a) and b), with his emotions and self-control, with the fear that the Jedi will turn him out if he's not good enough (Obi Wan says he cares - but would he still care if Anakin disappointed him?), so of course he'll mentally escape into the fantasy of boundless, unconditional love from a beautiful, genteel woman.

And then - and this is the crux of my argument - the Tusken massacre happens.

It happens because, in that moment, the stark apparent uselessness of approach b) is particularly salient to Anakin: Shmi had been kind her whole life, she always insisted on Anakin being kind and selfless and helpful, and this is what she got from it, it got her nowhere, it got her tortured and killed with nobody to stop it. So approach a) - a massive show of ruthless strength, PUNISH!! - becomes the only possible reaction for him.

BUT STILL, he knows that this would have immensely disappointed her, and more importantly he knows that this would immensely disappoint the Jedi if they knew about it, he knows that he could suffer rejection and casting out and, well, serious legal consequences if they found out.

From this point on, Anakin's fate with the Jedi is sealed. There's nothing they can do to help him, any validation they give him will not reach him in any way that matters, because he is presenting a facade to them and he knows it in his bones that who he truly is would be fundamentally unlovable for the Jedi (I don't know whether this would truly be the case, but the important part is that Anakin is sure it is). Ultimate imposter syndrome baybeee.

BUT there's Padmé. Padmé understands. Padmé is still willing to see him as a good man. In a world that seems cleaved in two in such a way that he can either be cruel and unlovable and completely defined by his power and competence and alone, or roll over and be kind and let people hurt him (he knows no option c), while his identity is unraveling because he has built it on a foundation of others' approval and he knows that approval is not coming or deserved, Padmé is once again the only true thing in his life, the only oasis in a sea of conflicting expectations. She has seen the worst of him, and she is still there, in a way the Jedi would never be. She IS option c). She is stability. She is something outside of himself that holds together the fractured pieces of his self-image and his conflicting worldviews. Without her he'll fall apart.

This is why he functions so much better during the Clone Wars. This is how he gets to be a good master for Ahsoka.

But as far as he's concerned, the relationship between him and Ahsoka is a one-way street, because Ahsoka doesn't really know him. He has molded himself into what Ahsoka needs, as he has tried to mold himself into what his slavers or the Jedi needed, but the face he presents to her is ultimately a kind of facade, a splitting of the "good parts" of him and the suppressed parts that would bring him to do horrible things like massacre the Tusken raiders. This is where his perception of "Anakin" and "Vader" as two different people originates. For him to heal this split, he would need to see that he is accepted by others despite his genocide, and to reveal what he did is too great a risk because... well, fucking genocide.

And this is, essentially, why Ahsoka can leave and Padmé can't. He cares for her, he wants to do good by her, but knows that the foundation is false with Ahsoka. He knows (or "knows") that she, like Obi-Wan, would turn on him in an instant if she really saw who he was. It's not that he has "attachment issues" that severe across the board, it's that Padmé is the only thing maintaining his sense of self, his psychological integrity.

And this is, in the end, why Ahsoka can die, why she is basically sacrificed for Padmé. It's not Ahsoka vs. Padmé, it's Ahsoka vs. Anakin, because he can't live without Padmé, and OTOH he knows that Ahsoka doesn't truly love him as he is. Ahsoka would abandon him if she knew, so it's okay if he does so first.

Same goes for Obi-Wan: Anakin is so defensive on Mustafar because he is already expecting Obi-Wan to hate him, he knows he did wrong things and he is already expecting Obi-Wan to disapprove and try to stop him, and he is defending himself by striking first so he doesn't feel the sting of Obi-Wan's rejection as badly.

Same goes for Padmé - the presence of Obi-Wan implies that she agrees with him, and that she will leave him, and because he is so codependent, because she is the only truly Load Bearing thing for him, Padmé's removal from his life is a direct attack on his integrity, on his capacity to function, on the only possibility of him being happy and safe and loved. So he ends up attacking her, because her possibly leaving is so threatening that it's equivalent to an attack.

Once Padmé is gone (and once Obi-Wan attacks him and proves what Anakin has always suspected), there is nothing to prop up option b). Option b) has become associated with Anakin Skywalker. There is only option a) - become as powerful as you can, please your master: Darth Vader. Until Luke comes along and extends his hand and shows him again that option b) is possible, no, actually, that option c) is possible because Luke, too, has seen him be awful over and over again and cares anyway.

Anyway, I think this is why it's important to see Anakin insist that he is both a) and b) in the Ahsoka WBW scenes, to see Vader and Anakin integrated, because it's his way of acknowledging that what they had WAS real, that what she saw in him wasn't a facade but something that he had genuinely wanted to give to her, but that the realness of their connection made him all the guiltier for hurting her.

[subjectnamemissing]

The first set of duels all involve seeking a return to a comfortable stagnation or projection. The character has left a state that they wish to return to. The second set all involve seeking to reject the current surrounding world for one that matches their desires. The third set of duels is finally closest to the truth of what 'Revolutionizing the world' is - seeking to prove a change exists in the perception of the duelists - that a level of maturity has been reached and the duelist has grown up - but this change only occurs upon the duelist losing the duel. Without the loss all the third duel accomplishes is the completion of a Rotation on the Revolution. The duelists seek ‘adulthood’ in the belief that doing so will grant them the power to continue to exist unchanged even in new circumstances. Revolution has two meanings within the narrative - a break from stagnant conditions or states, and the completion of a cycle that returns to the start - like a carousel’s spin.

I think that the power to Revolutionize the World that all the characters fight for in Revolutionary Girl Utena is primarily a power to change oneself and break free of the eternal revolution offered by Ohtari and embodied by Akio. Part 1/2 - Mikage & the Black Rose Duelists, Saoinji, Miki, and Juri.

Nanami post link

Black Rose

Mikage in the Black Rose arc keeps trying to kill the Rose Bride and win the power of Dios, but he fails every time since every duelist he chooses is attempting to Reject the world and revolutionize it based upon changing other people. A miracle achieved though sacrificing other people - they pull their swords from others and bear the rose crests of others.

Mikage and the duelists are working on an entirely flawed premise - so each duel ends with another corpse in the crematorium and another chick that failed to break their shell and a return to status quo. Each person dueling is attempting to seek a revolution entirely defined by the perceptions or actions of others - Kaene wants Anthy’s judgement of her (perceived or not) gone. Wakaba wants others to look at her as special (especially Saionji). Kozue wants to protect Miki's innocence, but she also keeps wanting to taint it - her sweet love towards her sibling has turned curdled and she also wants to return to the 'Sunlit Garden'- so everyone who can taint it needs to go. Shiori wants to 'Win' over Juri because she can't believe in Juri's feelings in their clash with her abysmal self-worth and she can't accept her own feelings towards Juri. Tsuwabuki wants to be perceived as an adult and grow up already - though he isn't sure what it entails. Keiko wants to know Touga, and perhaps it is a plain desire common to most of Ohtori, but it’s not one that can be fulfilled while she is the lowest girl on the totem pole and Nanomi is in the way. Mikage himself seeks connection but the person he wants to connect to is terminally ill - so in the ultimate conclusion of this theme of rejecting the world he is seeking Eternity in these memories and reliving the past literally - he is a trapped ghost in a burned down building. The one person rejected is the Onion Prince boy whose basal confession is that he believes the problem is in him - not others.

Saionji

Saionji wants his status symbol back and to have something special that his 'friend' Touga doesn't have and Utena confronts him in revenge for her friend Wakaba first and revenge for Anthy's treatment once she is already committed - later episodes make it clear Wakaba still loves Saionji so it is doubtful that she would have wanted the duel in her honor. As Saoinji scoffingly points out - Utena is the archetypical prince protecting the honor of princesses here. Saionji's 'revolution' is related primarily to his status in the system - without Anthy as his rose bride he is no longer special - just an average upperclassman. His second duel is much the same because despite his belief that he has changed - he utterly fails to articulate 'how' and no other character can even notice how or if he is different. He still seeks to possess the Rose Bride as a status symbol of being 'an Adult' and gaining something that designates him as special - most specifically in regard to Touga. He is the only 2nd time duelist that comes without their own Rose Bride. He's not fighting with his own power/strength of will at all. He's repeating lines said by Touga in the first set of duels, Saioinji is an imitation of an imitation, and it's not very surprising he missed the memo on the change in duel format.

But he seems to have found the route start for the process of growing anyways after being beaten again. Refuting Touga in his desire to be like Akio and accurately pointing out the central premise of Ohtari. He repeats with Touga there is no such thing as True Friendship- but it is still evident that his relationship with Touga only improves again after they fail to complete their revolutions on Akio’s stage.

Miki

Miki wants to recapture his “sunlight garden” through Anthy. He is seeking a return to a state which was simple and joyful for him and believes if he can possess Anthy then he can return to that state. Of course, this simple state in his memory doesn't exist. He loses the duels both times because his illusion of how things were was shattered - first by realizing Anthy was cheering for Utena - she was not an empty vessel for his fantasy, second by realizing that both his sister and Anthy had elements of 'adulthood' - he thinks that he is ready to 'get dirty to get what he wants' in regards to maturing his relationship with Anthy and finally the stability and strength to make his place in the world secure. Both he and Kozue wants to have the strength to return to the Sunlight Garden, but only Kozue seems prepared to grab the power to hold the illusion together - in which case she chose an excellent model. Akio is a professional in the art of maintaining an illusion.

Miki ultimately seeks to return to simpler times because he feels estranged in the present - a chick without a home.

The problem is that his Sunlight Garden is a fragile thing since it is only a facade. Kozue seeks to grant her brother the power of 'Revolution' and take him to the 'world of adulthood' but his sword is still a 'child's sword'. Realizing that he can't return to the past he sought the ability to create a comfortable present - but he can't follow-through with the 'adulthood' embodied by Akio and complete his revolution on the carousel. Perhaps his Revolution requires him to stop trying to fit himself to the dichotomy of either a powerful prince ‘who takes what he want’ or an innocent and pure child ‘who has what’s his taken’ since no such thing as a 'pure prince' who exists without subjecting others or getting subjugated. Perhaps hope exists, he does know a friend or two who also don't fit comfortably into the defined archetypes of princess or prince.

Juri

I understand Juri's issue in regard to her personal coffin - but I'm not actually sure the motivations behind her duels with Utena or what she is hoping to achieve. Juri's issue is that she doesn't believe in miracles (Shiori returning her feelings) but she really wants to believe in miracles (She can't give up her feelings for Shiori anyways). Her issue with miracles is "Believe in miracles and they will know your feelings" In this context, her duel with Utena is triggered by Utena telling how her Rose Crest links her to her 'Prince'. The parallel between miracles is the power to bring about connections - Juri challenges Utena to show her proof that her miracle - she will be led to her prince through her ring - is real while the camera focuses straight on Juri's locket - linking the two symbols. Juri believes there is no hope of her feelings or her being accepted if she communicates them to Shiori.

If she wins, she can continue to deny miracles exist while secretly hoping they exist - being engaged to the Rose Bride who is said to grant miracles - quietly locked into believing her feelings can’t be expressed. Losing - she still refuses to say out loud she believes in miracles - but it is still clear she is less hostile to the idea they can happen.

Juri's second duel starts with coercion - her anguish on seeing Shiori's humiliation and obsession with Ruka/Juri is outweighing her anguish on the uncrossable distance between Juri's feelings and Shiori despite their reciprocity. Ruka seems to love Juri and knows Juri loves Shiori and that Shiori can't and won't reciprocate with her issues, Juri loves Shiori but will neither reach out nor give up, Shiori loves Juri but refuses to believe that she is worthy so she must make Juri hate her. Juri and Ruka seem to share the idea - it's fine if they hate me as long as they are free from this toxic debasement that they are trapped in. Juri's growth hinges on accepting she shouldn't sacrifice herself for the sake of Shiori's miracle - love doesn't justify abuse. It is only by losing Shiori’s locket and letting her feelings (and fears) lay bare that Juri can break away in a new direction from the interruption into her cycle instead of a repeat of her past misfortune with Shiori.

It seems that Ruka succeeds in his goal of letting Juri move on from her obsession with Shiori - though to what degree he intended anything is ambiguous since he goes and dies afterwards. Juri can accept letting Shiori leave her locket and accept it doesn’t need to require her suffering to love Shiori. Unrequited (or believed to be) love can be left to grow wistful - instead of a constant thorn in the heart. Juri has been given a direction to go for when she is ready to Revolutionize her world. She can still love Shiori, but she can't keep letting the rose parasite use its venom.

[hooked-on-elvis]

Elvis: chokers and suits, 1975

It's odd to me that not many people seem interested specifically on Elvis' choker pieces. I didn't find a website or any article (until now) on his 1975 chokers, naming them or something... just the jumpsuits and his jewelry pieces (rings and crosses and so on). Anyway, they are so essencial parts to his 1975 look!

I'll never get tired of those 1975 pictures. Elvis looked like a baby, a teddy bear, a little boy in 1975, specially wearing chokers. He's just SO cute I wanna cry! ♥ 🥹 ♥

On the two pictures above, EP's wearing chokers with the ✨ Silver Phoenix (White/Silver Eagle) jumpsuit ✨ with the Black Phoenix belt. There were at least two different "Zebra Belts"; both designed for this suit.

Above, from Summer tour from July 8 to July 24, 1975: Elvis Presley is pictured performing in the ✨ Chicken Bone suit ✨ (other names: Chicken Rib, Bear Claw, Black/Dark Blue Aztec).  Black jumpsuit with light blue puffy sleeves (no, even tho some picture make the shirt look white, it was light blue). Elvis also used this suit a few times in 1976 with an alternative belt.

And my favorite one, the ✨Totem Pole (Gypsy) jumpsuit ✨ with the Red Armadillo Belt. This suit made its debut during the 1975 July tour, but when Elvis first wore it, he didn't wear it with the original belt. He wore it with a belt that was originally designed for the "Navy Blue Two-piece with Red armadillo", also a 1975 jumpsuit. The original belt was worn with this suit during his 1975 December Las Vegas engagement.

This very same choker Elvis used with the Gypsy suit he also wore the day those pictures below were taken:

Smoking a cigar at JFK airport on July 19, 1975.

Anyway, Elvis wearing chokers is one of his best looks. ⚡

FOR MORE ACCURATE INFO ON ELVIS' JUMPSUITS: https://www.elvisconcerts.com/jumpsuits/index.htm

[hexjulia]

reading more about atomic gardening and this is so much fun. to read about that is. it also seems fun to do, but. you know. anyway:

"The story of these citizen-pioneers of mutagenesis (the technical term for creating genetic change through the application of chemical, physical, and biological agents) is full of fantastic details, from Muriel Howorth’s propagandising ballet-mime, Isotopia, which involved a cast of Knowledge, Electron, Proton, Neutron, Rat, and Cow, as well as a working geiger counter, to Tennessee-based atomic entrepreneur C.J. Speas irradiating trays of seedlings into his backyard bunker.

IMAGE: C.J. Speas giving a tour of his radioactive bunker to high school students, photo by Grey Villet for Life, via Pruned.

Perhaps the most bizarre detail in the interview, however, is the news that these gamma gardens are still in operation, relatively unchanged in design since the 50s, in the grounds of national laboratories today. Their circular form, which, as Johnson notes, bears more than a passing resemblance to the atomic danger symbol, “was simply based upon the need to arrange the plants in concentric circles around the radiation source which stood like a totem in the center of the field.”

It was basically a slug of radioactive material within a pole; when workers needed to enter the field it was lowered below ground into a lead lined chamber. There were a series of fences and alarms to keep people from entering the field when the source was above ground. The amount of radiation received by the plants naturally varied according to how close they were to the pole. So usually a single variety would be arranged as a ‘wedge’ leading away from the pole, so that the effects of a range of radiation levels could be evaluated. Most of the plants close to the pole simply died. A little further away, they would be so genetically altered that they were riddled with tumors and other growth abnormalities. It was generally the rows where the plants ‘looked’ normal, but still had genetic alterations, that were of the most interest, that were ‘just right’ as far as mutation breeding was concerned!

Over at GOOD, Peter Smith recently described a similar layout at the still-active Institute of Radiation Breeding, in Hitachiohmiya, Japan, which has “has a 88.8 Terabecquerel Cobalt-60 source, ringed by a 3,608-foot radius Gamma field (the world’s largest), and a 28-foot high shield dike around the perimeter.”

IMAGE: A gamma garden at Brookhaven National Labs, New York, c. 1958; image provided by Paige Johnson, via Pruned.

IMAGE: Aerial view of the Institute of Radiation Breeding, Hitachiohmiya, Japan.

As it turns out, far from being a fantastic fossil from the future that never was, along with jetpacks and flying cars, atomic gardening is alive and well today. According to a 2007 New York Times story, which quotes Dr. Pierre Lagoda, head of plant breeding and genetics at the International Atomic Energy Agency, radiation breeding is actually experiencing a renaissance, due to the introduction of “new methods that speed up the identification of mutants.”

IMAGE: Mutant crop varieties mapped by The New York Times.

What’s more, the Times adds, nearly 2,000 gamma radiation-induced mutant crop varieties have been registered around the world, including Calrose 76, a dwarf varietal that accounts for about half the rice grown in California, and the popular Star Ruby and Rio Red grapefruits, whose deep colour is a mutation produced through radiation breeding in the 1970s. Similarly, Johnson tells Pruned that “most of the global production of mint oil,” with an annual market value estimated at $930 million, is extracted from the “wilt-resistant ‘Todd’s Mitcham’ cultivar, a product of thermal neutron irradiation.” She adds that “the exact nature of the genetic changes that cause it to be wilt-resistant remain unknown.”

IMAGE: “Pierre Lagoda, the head of plant breeding and genetics at the International Atomic Energy Agency, showing mutated plants at a greenhouse in Austria,” photo by Herwig Prammer for The New York Times."

[acmeoop]

Totem Pole Models “Yogi Bear Sunday Strip” (1968)

[skateironicallycantskate]

Does anyone remember these games I played as a kid?

I feel like they were made by Nick Jr but I haven’t found anything about either so I’m not sure

The first game was set on a train. You could go onto different carts and do different educational games. I remember some carts would have a video where you could just watch an episode of any cartoon from whatever company that made this. I also remember it going from daytime to nighttime, no clue if it depended on the actual time of day

The second one was either a game by itself or a game based off a cartoon (If it was a cartoon then I wanna say 2010s) It was a school full of different animals who all looked very shapey. I don’t remember all of them but I remember one student was a rino and the teacher was a bear. (He’s not. Oopsies) There was a bunch of different games you could do but I only remember two. One was just coloring and the other you could make a totem pole. And there was a little animation of the kids going home at the end of the day

If anyone remembers these, let me know 😭

Edit: the second one has been found. It’s Hey Duggee! :3

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 5: Sabotage]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: With the completion of Chapter 5, we are officially 1/3 of the way done with this fic series! In my opinion, things start to get really interesting in Chapter 6 so I am sooooo excited to have reached this little milestone. Thank you so so so much for reading and for your enthusiasm, questions, rants, analyses, theories, memes, and general emotional investment in NTTF. I go back to re-read your comments/tags ALL the time and they help keep me motivated to get new chapters out asap. 🥰💜

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, veterinary medicine, discussions of sex, questionable decisions, Kimmie-related chaos, Trent flexing his athletic skills.

Word count: 5.6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario​ @meadowofsinfulthoughts​ @ladylannisterxo​ @doingfondue​ @tclegane​ @quartzs-posts​ @liathelioness​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @thelittleswanao3​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @b1gb3anz​ @hinata7346​ @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ @eddies-bat-tattoos​ @minttea07​​​

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It’s November 29th, the Monday after Thanksgiving. It’s also your lunch hour.

You yank open the glass front door of Caribou Crossings, the souvenir shop where Heather works. It’s mostly abandoned now that tourist season has ended, and the unloved relics stare at you with cold, oddly sentient eyes: the owls carved out of cedar wood, bears carved out of jade, Russian dolls, miniature totem poles, plushie salmons. You climb over the counter and sit on the floor behind the cash register, your back pressed to the wall and your arms linked around your knees. Heather is breaking open rolls of coins to restock the register, probably unnecessarily; you are the only two people in the store.

She asks, wrestling to get quarters out of a particularly stubborn wrapper: “How’s it going?”

“Not great.”

“Have you fucked British Kurt Cobain yet?”

“We’re not speaking.”

She puts down the roll of quarters and looks at you. “What happened?”

You shrug, trying to act casual, trying to not let your voice crack. You don’t think there’s any threat of tears; you’ve cried so much in the past four days that you seem to be out of them. Your eyes are perpetually pinkish, puffy, exhausted. Despite your herculean efforts to remain hydrated, you have a constant low-grade tension headache that throbs like a bruise, misery trapped beneath the skin like blue-violet blood. “It’s a long story. He came over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Okay.” Heather is perplexed. “And then he, what, drunkenly dropped the turkey on the floor? Tried to hook up with your mom? Offered to show you his collection of murder supplies?”

You smile wearily. “No. I told him that he had to get sober. And he freaked out, he was yelling, he was saying I don’t have any right to try to control him because he’s not mine and never will be. He said I was trying to use him to bail myself out of my spineless, unfulfilling life.”

She scoffs. “Well that’s not true.” Then she observes your face. “Is it…?”

You shrug again, feeling like you’re back in high school, petulant and powerless. “There are a lot of things I want to experience, a lot of places I want to go. But I haven’t done anything yet. Because I can’t tell my parents that I don’t want to stay in Juneau forever and run the vet clinic.”

This must shock Heather, but she doesn’t show it. “I can’t imagine that they would want you to stay if it made you unhappy.”

“No, they wouldn’t try to stop me. But it would break their hearts.”

There is a long, uneasy silence. At last, Heather says: “I think you should come to Ursa Minor tonight.”

“I don’t want to see Aegon.”

“I mean, Dale would probably kick him out if we asked.”

“No!” you shout, too quickly. If he doesn’t have his preferred place to drink his demons away, he might leave Juneau long before the six month deadline.

Heather raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to see him or do you not want to see him?”

You glower at the wall strewn with large, framed photographs of the Northern Lights. “I want him to apologize.”

“I have many talents, but I can’t make that happen for you,” she says. “Look, is it possible that Aegon will be at Ursa Minor? Yeah, totally. But other people are going to be there too. Me, and Joyce, and Kimmie, and Trent and all his dimwitted muscley friends…there are going to be people who care about you. There are going to be people who can help you through this. We can comfort you. We can distract you. We can curb stomp that Greek boy in the parking lot if he doesn’t behave himself. There are a lot of options.”

Lyrics from The Distance, unexpected and unwelcome, spin around in your mind like a vinyl record: She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade. “I’ll think about it.”

“Can I interest you in a complementary Juneau-themed trinket? Glacial mud mask? Moose nuggets? Birch syrup? A slightly sinister-looking stuffed salmon?”

“No. I’m good.”

Heather asks with a straight face: “Do you want me to kill him?”

You laugh, your first real laugh since Thanksgiving. “No, thank you very much, but no.”

“Seriously. I could make it look like the Ice Fisher did it. No one would ever know.”

You gaze up at her from where you sit on the floor. “I love you.”

“I know, bitch.” Heather grins. “Wear something slutty this time.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve spent a lot of time in your bedroom since Thanksgiving; you don’t want your parents to see you upset. They know something, of course, but they don’t interrogate you. They don’t intrude. They probably assume that you’ve broken up with Aegon—not that we were ever dating to begin with, you think sullenly—and, furthermore, that this is a painful yet indisputably wise course of action. It is a productive sort of pain, a necessary pain; it is like the deep maroon ache of a healing bone. It hurts less now than it would if you had stayed with him, married him, had children with him, attempted to build a life with him like a sandcastle razed again and again at high tide. It hurts less than if you had let yourself fall in love with him.

Oh, but didn’t I?

Alaska was purchased from Russia in 1867, just two years after the American Civil War ended, and was soon widely regarded by the still-recovering nation as a hopelessly remote and burdensome error. This impression was reversed only by the discovery of gold and the subsequent mass migration of miners to the territory beginning in the 1890s. After the booming gold industry came fishing and logging and oil and military bases, but gold was Alaska’s first saving grace. This is what you are thinking as you pencil on your black eyeliner, dust your eyelids with sheer gold glitter, paint your lips a vivid, glossy crimson. You stare at your reflection in the bedroom mirror, surrounded by photographs of your family and your friends, high school and college and vet school. There’s one image that doesn’t quite belong. It’s a cutout from one of those infinite travel magazines, a Ford Mustang convertible soaring down the Pacific Coast Highway in Southern California. The man behind the wheel—tan, beaming, carefree—is wearing sunglasses and a neon green tank top. The convertible is bright red; it is nearly the same shade as your lips.

You slip into a dress you haven’t worn in years: black, short, off-the-shoulder sleeves. Ever-practical, you opt for black boots instead of heels. When you arrive at Ursa Minor, Heather is wearing a sequined hot pink tube top and white leather pants. Joyce is wearing—to Heather’s abject horror—overalls, a rainbow striped T-shirt, and a massive mustard yellow scarf that nearly swallows her into oblivion. By a pure and unfortunate coincidence, you and Aegon match. He is sitting at the bar in all black: black turtleneck sweater, black jeans, black combat boots, black sleepless shadows under both of his eyes, a black mood that sweats out of his pores like a fever. Randomly, you remember the gold chain necklace he was wearing on Thanksgiving. It didn’t look fake, and it didn’t look cheap. To your knowledge, it is the only thing of significant value that he owns. It is a peculiar luxury for him to possess.

So what? Maybe he stole it. Maybe he traded drugs for it. Maybe he got it off a corpse that he strangled and then sank into cold, silent darkness beneath an ice-covered lake.

But no, you don’t believe that. You never did, and you still don’t.

Heather slurps down her Sex On The Beach. “Is this your revenge dress? Are you invoking the spirit of Princess Diana in this fine establishment tonight?”

You gaze miserably at Aegon. He is peering down into the caramel-colored bubbles of his rum and Coke. The stereo is playing Shania Twain’s Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under? “He told me he’s an awful person. That’s the worst part. Like he told me over and over again exactly what to expect and I didn’t believe him, because I was just…just…I don’t know.” Infatuated. In love. Blind. Naïve. Hopeful. “Stupid, I guess.”

“I hate men.” Heather glances to the bar. “Except Dale, he’s okay.”

“The fictional ones aren’t all bad,” Joyce says, flipping a page in her newest fantasy novel. This one has a pirate on the front, his billowing white shirt mostly unbuttoned and his long hair flowing in the wind like a hero’s cape.

“I’ve had a horrendous fucking day,” you moan. “There’s the Aegon thing, there’s the I’m never going to get out of Alaska thing, there’s the I’m going to die alone thing, and then on top of all that, I had to euthanize Ms. Ruland’s cat right before we closed.”

“Sylvester Stallone?!” Heather cries. “Sylvester died? That black and white homicidal little maniac? With the super long whiskers? Jesus, that’s tragic. I’m sorry.”

“In all fairness, he was like a gazillion years old. He probably remembered when dinosaurs roamed America. But it was still awful. Ms. Ruland was a mess. I felt totally unprepared, totally useless. I’d practiced in vet school, of course, but I’d never euthanized an animal I knew before. It was horrible trying to comfort Ms. Ruland. It was horrible seeing someone walk into the clinic with someone they loved and then walk out alone.”

Heather and Joyce nod with sad, sympathetic eyes, wanting to help but not knowing what else to say. You gulp down your pineapple-flavored Bacardi Breezer. Aegon must have complained about the Shania Twain music; Dale switches out the CD and the opening notes of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys rockets out of the stereo.

Kimmie throws open the front door and blusters into Ursa Minor, shaking the snowflakes out of her hair and wearing a sleek, skin-tight, metallic silver dress and matching platform heels. She looks like a disco ball; she looks like a mirror. She canters to the bar like a racehorse and orders herself a Miller Lite. She says something to Aegon. He mumbles back, still peering into his rum and Coke. She tries again. He shrugs and downs the rest of his drink. He glances at you—almost glaring, almost sad—and then orders another rum and Coke.

“Oh no,” Heather mutters. “Oh no, oh no, Kimmie, no.”

The front door opens again, and Trent and his friends spill inside in a loud, riotous swarm. They order beers at the bar—Trent fist-bumping Aegon, several of the other guys descending upon Kimmie to make bungling attempts at seduction—and then they migrate over to the pool table like a honking, brainless flock of geese. Trent breaks off to make a pit stop at your booth.

“Hi,” he says, smiling as he sips his Heineken.

“Hi,” you reply. Heather and Joyce’s eyes dart between you and Trent.

He points to the spot beside you, which is presently vacant. “Do you mind if I hang out for a while?”

“I think you’ll regret it. I am currently extremely depressed and boring.”

To your surprise, Trent doesn’t act like a dumbass. His voice goes gentle. His face collapses into soft, attentive pity. “What’s there to be depressed about?”

Well, you see, I accidentally fell in love with your maybe-murderer alcoholic homeless friend and in a completely unforeseeable turn of events he ruined my life. “I had to euthanize a cat today.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Trent says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my job. I should get over it.”

“No, seriously, I’m sorry.” Trent tosses his hair off his forehead in his patented horse-like maneuver, and then his gaze comes back to you. “Your job is to help animals, so I get that not being able to fix one would be really tough. But I know you’re still great at your job. I know you did everything you could.”

You stare up at Trent. Heather stares up at Trent. Joyce, having completely forgotten about her fantasy novel (a rare occurrence), stares up at Trent. Trent swallows a mouthful of Heineken; stray beads of it drip down his full lips and stubbled chin.

I couldn’t fix the cat. I couldn’t fix Aegon. I can’t fix myself.

“You can hang out if you want to,” you tell Trent, scooting over to give him space. He grins and slides into the booth, tall and broad-shouldered and tossing his hair around again, looking like goddamn Seabiscuit. You steal a glimpse of the bar. Aegon’s jaw has fallen open; he’s gaping at you with scandalized disbelief, with something like horror. You move a little closer to Trent. And Aegon, at last, turns his attention to the dramatic, irritating, captivating Kimberly Barbieri.

“So, Trent,” Heather begins slowly, apprehensively, then picks up steam. Beside her, Joyce picks up her book. “How is the salmon genocide business going?”

As you half-listen to Trent talk about fishing, which somehow—as all topics seem to do with him—leads back to football and his high school glory days, you drink your Bacardi Breezer and watch Aegon with sharp, narrowed eyes. He has relocated to the barstool next to Kimmie. He appears to be asking her questions—tentative, stilted questions—and she replies with animated laughter and calculated little touches: her fingertips grazing his wrist, her palm briefly pressed to his shoulder. You hate the way Aegon talks with his hands, those gestures which had been becoming so familiar to you. They put an ache in your chest like a nest of barbed wire.

“Bro!” one of Trent’s friends is calling from the pool table. Others are waving encouragingly. “Bro, come play! Come play! Broooooo!”

“Looks like you’re being summoned,” Heather says.

“Oh, wow, I guess so.” Trent turns to you, nervous. “Do you…uh…would you…maybe…like to join me?”

“What, playing pool?”

“Yeah.”

You try to consider this in earnest; your mind is so tangled up in Kimmie and Aegon and everything that’s transpired over the past week that the words barely sound like English. Playing. Pool. With Trent. “I don’t think I know how.”

“I’ll teach you,” he offers, quite willingly.

“Okay, maybe. Give me a few minutes, I need another drink first.”

“Want me to grab a Bacardi Breezer for you?”

“Thanks, but I’ll do it. I haven’t decided which flavor I want next yet.”

“Cool,” Trent says. He slips out of the booth and gives you one final, mock-stern, smiling warning. “Remember, I’m going to teach you how to play. Meet me at the pool table. Don’t forget. Don’t disappear.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise. He departs. You say to Heather: “I probably won’t be there.”

“Why not?” Heather asks. “You’re hot. You’ll be even hotter when you’re bent over a pool table lining up your shots. The Greek boy is already sad, but I want to see him devastated.”

“I don’t think I have that power.”

Heather smirks and wiggles her slender eyebrows. “I disagree.”

Across Ursa Minor, Kimmie leaps off her barstool and leaves Aegon to guzzle his rum and Coke in peace. She approaches your booth sheepishly, like a dog that knows he’s chewed a considerable hole in his owner’s favorite La-Z-Boy recliner. “So,” Kimmie says to you, nervously kneading her glass bottle of Miller Lite. She’s so fucking cool, you think mournfully. Cool girls drink beer, cool girls are lighthearted and fun, cool girls don’t take guys too seriously, cool girls never ask about the future. “You and Aegon.”

You drink the last of your Bacardi Breezer moodily. “What about us?”

“You aren’t…like…together, are you?”

“No. No way. I’d rather date O.J. Simpson.”

“Well…” Heather begins, and you kick her under the table. Bitch! she mouths, rubbing her shin.

“Okay,” Kimmie sighs in relief, a smile breaking across her face. The Christmas lights reflect off her silver dress; she glows, she radiates. “Good. I was hoping he wasn’t off-limits, but I wanted to check with you first. You know, in accordance with Girl Code.”

“How courteous,” you note.

Kimmie marvels dreamily: “He looked so freaking good strumming that guitar.”

“Um, Kimmie…” Heather begins again. You glare at her ferociously. Heather pivots. “He’s probably the Ice Fisher, so you should keep your distance.”

Kimmie laughs. “Aegon? The Ice Fisher?! I don’t think so. You have to be sober to meticulously kidnap and murder people. Besides, from what I’ve heard he’s slept his way through like half the souvenir shop cashiers, and none of them ended up dead.”

You stare down at the table despondently. Heather, floundering, puts her fist through the figurative In Case Of Emergency Break Glass box. “He has syphilis.”

Kimmie gasps. “Really?!”

Heather deflates. “No. Well, actually, I don’t know. Maybe. It’s certainly possible. We should assume the worst.”

Kimmie, for once fully in on the joke, winks. “I’ll let you know once I’ve investigated.” She strolls back to the bar in her short mirrorball dress, shimmering and lithe like a snake’s skin.

“To be clear,” Heather tells you. “I was not in the half of the souvenir shop cashiers that Aegon boned.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?! Why didn’t you tell her that…that…?!”

“That what?” you snap. “She asked if we’re together. We’re not. We never were. He made that crystal clear. And if he’s not going to get sober, I’m not going to get involved with someone like that.” Someone like Jesse. Someone like the man my mom still carries scars and bruises from, not in the flesh but in the soul.

“But…but…” Heather frowns at you with pained, condoling eyes. “You…you love him. Don’t you? You look like you love him. You look…and I mean this in the most compassionate way possible…you look fucking terrible. You look like someone died, and I’m not talking about Sylvester Stallone the geriatric cat. Joyce?”

Joyce gives you an evaluative glance. “Yeah, you look terrible.”

At the bar, Kimmie is leaning all over Aegon and giggling about a story he’s telling. His hands move in dramatic, expressive gestures. He is, for the first time tonight, smiling. There’s a jolt like knuckles jabbed beneath your ribs. There’s a profound, inky despair. Kimmie grabs Aegon’s hand—he has callouses on his fingertips, you think randomly—and leads him over to the pool table. As soon as they have vacated the area, Heather drags you to the bar.

“Dale?” she says. “My good bitch needs a Bacardi Breezer. Maybe two Bacardi Breezers. Maybe three. I think I’ll be driving her home tonight.” She turns to you. “What flavors do you want?”

“Apple,” you reply morosely.

“Okay, one apple, what about the rest?”

“All apple.”

“Goddamn, you really are fucked up about this. Dale, three apple Bacardi Breezers, please.”

He lines them up on the counter. Heather sits with you as you drink them one after the other, gradually feeling warm again, feeling a little lighter. When you peek back at the booth, Rob has appeared there and is discussing—politely this time—the plot of Joyce’s fantasy novel with her. She looks almost vaguely interested in his existence.

“Hey Dale,” Heather prompts. “What’s the secret to everlasting love?”

Dale chuckles huskily and runs a hand over his thick, wiry beard. “You’re asking the wrong person. My wife ran off with a cruise ship singer, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Heather says apologetically. That was around six months ago, at the start of tourist season; the guy was an Elvis impersonator. “My bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m better off, I think. Now I don’t have to pretend to like her soap operas anymore. Or her tuna casserole.” He guffaws and ambles away to serve a pair of middle-aged locals seated at the other end of the bar.

When you’ve finished your last Bacardi Breezer, Heather slaps your shoulder encouragingly. “Alright, you ready?”

“Yup,” you say, swaying a little as you hop off the barstool. You stumble and bump into Heather, laughing. She steadies you with a massive grin. She’s delighted; she’s relieved.

“Good. Now get your ass over to the pool table and do your best impression of Demi Moore in Striptease.”

You have no intention of doing that. But you do—with Heather’s stabilizing grip on your waist—make your way to the pool table. There is a crowd pulsing around it: Trent, Trent’s assorted jock friends, Aegon, Kimmie. Aegon is standing in the background and nursing his—fourth? fifth? tenth?—rum and Coke. His face is vague and his eyes groggy. Still, he is beautiful. He’s so beautiful you almost blurt it out before stopping yourself. Kimmie is lining up a shot to break the balls out of their triangular configuration. Her silver hoop earrings glint under the Christmas lights. She is covered in male gazes like the sheen of ice on a lake. The white cue ball collides with the pyramid-shaped conglomeration; the balls go flying in every direction. The solid green ball—number 6—disappears into a pocket.

“Booyah!” Kimmie cheers. There are claps and whistles. Aegon just stares blankly, gnawing on his lower lip, that chronically disobedient lock of hair resting on his cheek.

“You’re majorly talented,” Trent’s friend Gary swoons. Kimmie bats her eyelashes at him and then checks to see if Aegon noticed. He didn’t. Kimmie, flustered but trying to hide it, takes another turn but doesn’t manage to sink a single ball.

“Hey!” Trent welcomes you warmly. He slings an arm across your shoulders, which ordinarily you would shy away from. Now, you lean into him, your body melding with his, your muscles loose and sinuous. Aegon does notice this. His eyes are a dark, dangerous blue: riptides, maelstroms, trenches miles deep. Good, you think. Maybe I can get him jealous enough to reconsider. Maybe I can make him want to change. “Want to shoot for me? I’ll show you how.”

You smile up at Trent. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He passes you a cue stick with large, rugged hands. “So you’ll need one of these…and then you have to chalk it…” He presses a tiny blue cube into your palm. You rub chalk onto the tip of the cue stick, feeling ridiculous.

“And what’s the purpose of this part? Superstition? To give me false confidence?”

Trent chuckles. “To help the stick get better contact with the cue ball.”

“So you’re an expert, huh?”

“I am athletically gifted.”

“Does pool count as a sport? I’m skeptical.”

“Pay attention,” he teases, flipping his hair out of his face. Seabiscuit strikes again. “Now Kimmie sunk a solid ball, so the solids are all hers. Ours are the striped ones. If we can sink all the striped ones before Kimmie sinks all the solid ones, we win. And you don’t want to sink the black 8 ball until all our balls are already gone. That’s the very last step.”

“Sink striped balls. Don’t sink solid balls or the 8 ball. Okay. Got it.” You take aim, your sights set on the striped blue ball, number 10. This is somewhat difficult; thanks to your plentiful Bacardi Breezers, the pool table feels like it’s listing like a ship. The tapered shaft of the stick is balanced awkwardly on the back of your hand. “Am I doing this right…?”

“Here,” Trent says, and then he gets to work repositioning you. He touches you without asking, which you don’t object to under the circumstances; Aegon’s face is flushing a gory, wrathful red. Trent spreads your fingers farther apart, adjusts the angle of your elbow, pushes you between the shoulder blades to lean a bit lower over the pool table. The hem of your black dress creeps up your bare thighs, fluttering like a whisper. Aegon aggressively chugs the rest of his rum and Coke, the ice cubes clanging in the glass.

You take your shot, and the white cue ball whizzes across the pool table. It ploughs into the number 10 ball and sends it down into the abyss-like pocket closest to where Aegon stands.

“Yes!” Trent roars. He swoops in, picks you up with startling ease, whirls you around once before setting your unsteady feet back down on the floor and accepting thunderous back-slapping from his hoard of friends.

“Wow,” Heather murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Ugh, you whore!” Kimmie jeers, but she’s clapping and giggling too. She’s still the main character tonight, and she always will be, and she knows this like she knows the lines in her own palms. She’s just that kind of girl.

“Another round, another round!” Trent’s friends are chanting, and then they stampede together off to the bar to procure more beer. Kimmie, tottering in her silvery platform heels, moves to join them.

Abruptly, Aegon catches Kimmie’s forearm and pulls her to him. He whispers in her ear; her eyes go wide, her breath hitches, her glossy lips split into an exhilarated smile. And then they dash out of Ursa Minor together, stopping just long enough to grab their parkas off the coatrack by the door. They’re gone. They’re both gone.

You sputter to Heather: “What…? How…? No, they can’t! They can’t—!”

“What do you want me to do?!” she hisses back. “Tackle them before they can make it off the premises? Tie Kimmie to a chair? Force her to take a vow of celibacy? You didn’t tell her that he was off-limits when you had the chance. This is the consequence that we all have to live with.”

“Oh my god.” The room is spiraling around you. You feel nauseous; you feel ice cold. He wasn’t supposed to leave with her. He wasn’t supposed to…

“Uh, are you okay?” Heather asks.

“No,” you choke out. Aegon and Kimmie! Aegon and Kimmie!!! “I have to get out of here.”

“Well you can’t drive home like this—”

“I know. I’ll be back.” You push by her, snatch your parka off the coatrack, dive out into the starless, frigid night.

There’s no one in the parking lot, no one on the street. You make a hard left and walk with no particular plan down towards the harbor, your shaking hands jammed into your parka pockets, tears streaming down your face. The wind whips at you, howling and old, older than the creaking wooden planks of the dock beneath your boots, older than all of humanity. You pass bobbing sailboats and fishing vessels until you come to the end of the pier, sit there cross-legged and sobbing, gaze out through blurred vision over the Gastineau Channel. It separates mainland Juneau from Douglas Island, which began—like so much of Alaska did—as a gold mining settlement. You remember the sparkling gold eyeshadow that you applied in your bedroom just a few hours ago. You don’t feel very valuable at the moment. You feel unworthy. You feel alone.

It is silent except for the waves and the wind. It is very dark; the sky is clouded, and the illuminations of Ursa Minor and the streetlights are faraway. When you hear the footsteps behind you on the pier, your stomach drops; they’re too heavy to be Heather’s or Joyce’s. But when you twist around, it is Trent that you see in the dim, shadowy light.

“Hi,” he says, raising a hand. “Heather told me that you ran away.”

“Hi. I guess I did.”

He hesitates, flips his hair, drops down beside you at the edge of the pier. “You okay?”

You sigh heavily and swipe the tears from your cheeks. “Yeah. I’m just having a really bad day.” Like an absurdly, phenomenally, exponentially bad day.

“I know what that’s like.”

I doubt it, Trent. I really do.

You sit there together in the quiet, watching the sparce light flick off the crests of waves, staring at the bright dots of houses and shops across the channel on Douglas Island. Trent puts his arm around you. You let him, and—partially for the warmth, partially for the healing sensation of being desired, being cared for—lean your head against his chest.

After a very long time, you ask dully: “What do you like about working on a salmon boat?” It’s almost enough to make you wince. It’s the kind of pedestrian, unimaginative question that Aegon would make fun of. But Trent seems to consider it carefully.

“I like being outside,” he says. “I like the fresh air, I like the scenery. And I like how working with my hands helps me get all my frustrations out. I’m a better person when I stay busy. Commercial fishing can be intense sometimes, don’t get me wrong, that’s why I’m trying to get into the Forest Service. But I like it enough.”

“What do you like about me?”

You can hear the awe in his voice. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. There was a time when I didn’t care so much about things like that. But now that I’m older and I’ve started to think about settling down…I feel like you’re the right kind of girl to do that with.”

You look up at him. He beams down at you like a full moon. And then he kisses you. He’s warm and strong and handsome in that obvious sort of way, but he’s something else, too: a little forceful, a little rough. Rough isn’t always a bad thing. But it’s like you can glimpse the silhouette of someone else beneath the surface, stars veiled by clouds, the shadows of fish under ice. He doesn’t feel anything like Aegon. He doesn’t patch the wound that Aegon left in you at all.

I wonder where Aegon is right now. I wonder what he’s doing to Kimmie.

When Trent breaks the kiss, you tell him that you have to go. He walks you back to Ursa Minor, his mighty palm on the small of your back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Heather drives you home, shellshocked. She asks, in reference to your confession about the kiss on the pier: “So…uh…do you want to talk about it, or…?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“Are you and Trent…like…a thing…?!”

“I don’t know. He seems to think we are.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god.” She rubs her forehead with one hand, her astonished eyes on the indigo-black horizon.

When you get home, your dad is already asleep. Your mom is straightening up the kitchen, wiping off countertops and scrubbing dishes in the bubble-filled sink. When you ask if she needs any help, she bursts out laughing.

“You’re the one who looks like she needs help,” she says. “What happened at the bar?”

You grimace down at the floor. “A lot of things. A lot of things.”

“Nothing you feel the desire to share?”

“No. Not quite yet. Can you drive me back to pick up my Jeep tomorrow?”

“Sure. Why don’t you take a nice bubble bath and then go to bed?” she suggests. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Do you need a snack? I could make pancakes. Or a grilled cheese.”

“That’s really kind of you, but no thanks, Mom.” I’ve completely lost my appetite.

You sulk in a bubble bath for a while, drag yourself out, brush your teeth and hair, try to rub the night off every part of you like smoothing rough edges off a gemstone. When you wander out into the hallway, your eyes catch on the door to the attic, a rectangular outline in the white ceiling. You are mostly sober by now, and yet still the idea that strikes you seems ludicrous at first. It’s a muddled, disjointed thought. It might be a dangerous one.

If I can learn more about Jesse, maybe I can understand Aegon too.

The box of journals is up there, you know, dusty and untouched and waiting. The rope hangs invitingly. You pull the door open and unfold the ladder. You climb up into the attic, turn on the single naked lightbulb, and push aside bins of holiday decorations and family heirlooms until you find a small, unlabeled cardboard box that’s sealed shut with duct table. You peel back the tape and peek inside the flaps. The box is filled with thin leather journals in a variety of colors: olive green, navy blue, rust red, earthen brown. You gather the cardboard box into your arms and carry it down to your bedroom, slipping it discretely beneath your bed to live beside childhood stuffed animals and mounds of old yearbooks. You close up the attic and then venture downstairs to get yourself some water to stave off a blossoming hangover.

Your mom is at the kitchen sink, washing a plate with a green Scotch-Brite sponge. “Did I hear you up in the attic, ladybug? Do you need help finding something?”

“No, I got it.”

“Okay.” But she studies you, puzzled. She’s going to worry unless you explain.

“I don’t want to make you talk about it,” you say. “And I don’t want to upset you. I’ll never mention it again. But just so you know, I want to read the journals. For my own reasons. That’s why I was up in the attic. I was bringing the box down to my bedroom.”

“Oh.” She freezes, stares out the window over the sink, goes vacant. “That makes sense. That’s fine.”

“Mom, are you alright?”

“Of course, ladybug.” There is nothing outside but night. You can see her reflection in the glass like a mirror. Long, slow seconds tick by. “It seemed like he was getting better,” your mom says, her voice faint and weightless, an untethered balloon, a feather on waves. “That’s the strange part. At the very end, it seemed like he was getting better.”

Then she lets the plate sink beneath the pearlescent bubbles, wipes her hands dry on a dishtowel, and goes to bed without another word.

[rabbitcruiser]

Teddy Day

Teddy Day is an annual event held every February 10. We are ecstatic to be celebrating love and companionship via one fluffy friend that is always there no matter what — Teddies! Teddy bears, as the name implies, are stuffed toys often made to resemble a bear, and bears are known for their hugs, although fatal. But ours is one of love which is what this day is all about.

History of Teddy Day

Stuffed toys have been children’s best toys since ancient times. They are soft, squishy, and a good companion for all. In the Roman Empire, the children of the rich had wooden carved toys in the shape of animals and humans they played with, and it was such that only the children of the rich could afford and get them. So the children of the low class and peasants developed ragdolls made from clothes and straws, and over the years, they evolved into stuffed toys as we know them in the world today.

Teddy bears are soft fluffy toys in the shape of bears that evoke feelings of love and warmth when we hold and hug them. They come in different sizes; small, medium, large, and even plus size. Like all other stuffed toys, Teddy bears have evolved from being toys for children to being toys for everyone, including men and women. So during the cold, lonely nights and when we’re feeling emotionally down or happy, teddy bears serve as a great cuddle companion.

Teddy bears got their name in 1902 after President Theodore Roosevelt in a series of events that happened when he went on a hunting trip. During hunting, they happened upon a bear, and President Roosevelt refused to shoot it. The story soon spread all over, and the first stuffed bears were developed by toymakers Morris Michtom in the U.S, and Richard Steiff in Germany, and they were named ‘Teddy bears,’ after President Roosevelt’s pet name.

Teddy Day is a time to show love to our special persons and significant others by gifting them teddy bears. It shows how special they are to us and the warm and lovable feelings they bring to us, just like teddies.

Teddy Day timeline

1880 First Stuffed Toy

The first modern stuffed toy in the shape of an elephant is sold as a pincushion by the German Steiff Company.

1902 The Inception of Teddy Bears

After the incident with President Roosevelt where he refused to shoot a bear on a hunting trip, stuffed teddy bears are developed and become popular.

1906 Bear Book

A book on bears is written by Seymour Eaton, a children’s books series called “The Roosevelt Bears.”

1984 Teddy Museum

The first Teddy Bear Museum is set up in England.

Teddy Day FAQs

Why are Teddies so comforting?

Their fluffiness and softness possess a calming ability that eases the mind and emotions. Research has found that cuddling them releases oxytocin which calms the body.

At what age should a child stop sleeping with Teddies?

There is no specific age limit to sleeping with or having teddies. More than just being toys, they are also tools of convenience.

Can a baby sleep with a teddy?

It had been advised not to put stuffed toys beside children below 12 months because of the risks of death by strangulation or suffocation.

Teddy Day Activities

Gift a Teddy

Buy a Teddy

Become a Teddy

How can you observe Teddy Day without a Teddy? Gift your special someone a teddy bear and tell them how much you love them.

Other than giving teddies to your special someone, this is also a good time to get one for yourself. Visit your favorite stores and get yourself a fluffy teddy companion on this day.

Your partner might have lots of teddies already, putting you at a fix, but not to worry. Instead, rent a teddy bear costume to entertain your partner and make their day.

5 Important Facts About Teddies

Winnie the Pooh

Spacefarer bear

Teddy Magazine

Teddy Guinness record

World biggest Teddy

The most famous teddy in the world, Winnie the Pooh, created by author A. A Milne is named after a female bear named Winnipeg in the London zoo he frequented with his son.

The first teddy bear to journey into space is named Magellan T. Bear, which joined the NASA shuttle mission in 1995.

There is a magazine dedicated to teddy bears that has more than 40,000 subscribers called “Teddy Bears and Friends.”

The largest teddy bear collection in the world is 20,367, owned by Istvánné Arnóczki in Hungary on April 27, 2019.

The biggest Teddy bear in the world is located in Estado de Mexico, at 63 feet and eight inches.

Why We Love Teddy Day

Teddies are lovable toys

Helps on cold lonely nights

Teddies can be therapeutic

The fluffiness and cute appearance of teddy bears make us easily fall in love with them. Many manufacturers make them have wide beautiful eyes and innocent-like looks, which warms the heart and sends warm feelings always.

Some nights can be very terrible without a cuddle companion nearby. Teddies are one cuddle companions we can always count on to help us through the cold, lonely nights.

Research has found that cuddling a Teddy bear can be calming. Police, medical and fire officials reiterate the fact that giving a child a teddy during a crisis has calming effects on them.

Source

[soullessjack]

mm ok I have something to talk about finally ! so something I’ve noticed in a lot of discussions/meta around the TFW2.0 family dynamic + cycles of abuse is that it almost always opts to frame jack as a perpetual victim of [sam and] dean’s mistreatment who can’t fight back, and while I don’t mean to say it’s completely without merit, I feel that it does a slight disservice to Jack’s character by always reducing him into a helpless child (even if he is seen as older by the poster) who cannot/should not bear any responsibility in any of his relationships with his fathers.

to start, the cycle of abuse coincides with an imbalanced power dynamic; someone with more or higher power and authority over you (ie parent, boss or teacher) uses that authority to exploit, control, and/or freely mistreat you. i will note that it doesn’t necessarily have to be framed this way to be abuse, like a situation where blackmail grants someone authority over their target; there are also some dynamics that are inherently imbalanced without being inherently abusive (see above examples). the abuse relies on that dynamic being manipulated, not the dynamic itself.

in the majority of posts I’ve seen, the power imbalance between TFW2.0 almost always puts jack at the bottom of the totem pole, in a constant state of victimhood because he’s constantly at the mercy of [sam and] dean [and cas].*boxed these in bc people rarely pick on sam or cas for their transgressions and whether or not they’ll kill him. clarifying again that i understand where this comes from, but I also think it’s a fairly dated perspective on their dynamic that should really be re-examined—especially with Jack’s autonomy more in mind—and i believe @shallowseeker has a post about the exact timeframe of Cas’ death and Dean’s widower arc/mistreatment of Jack that i recommend for it.

but onto my main point, I feel that this representation of their dynamic is inaccurate, and doesn’t really take jack into account beyond the Helpless Child Victim narrative. for the sake of staying on topic let me just summarize a few things:

A) Jack is the most powerful being in the universe and is functionally immortal/unkillable. He is a greater threat to TFW than they are to him, and so he is the one with power in the dynamic, not the other way around. It all hinges on his personal choice to not harm them (because he loves them of course).

B) Jack is and always has been painfully aware of his power, the threat he poses, the dynamic it creates and the underlying tension it constantly causes with his relationships. The majority of his actions and motivations are rooted in his own self-fear, and the determination to prove he’s good/safe.

Another small point I’ll shove in is that Dean canonically never forgave himself for his mistreatment of Jack, and spent almost the entirety of their relationship trying to make up for it (especially in 14x06, 07 & 08). Likewise, Dean’s promise to kill Jack in 13x02 and that scene from Moriah are both often misunderstood as more Textbook Dean Abuse with **Jack’s perspectives (ie: “dean said he’d kill me, and maybe he should,” his admission of guilt and willingness to let Dean shoot him) (also, his choice to forgive dean at some point offscreen) being largely overlooked.

**obviously it’s not healthy or good for Jack to basically consent to being mistreated or killed because he thinks he somehow deserves it, nor does it make Dean’s actions excusable or justified in any way, but i still feel that it’s worth pointing out as examples of Jack’s autonomy and awareness in the aforementioned power dynamic.

Jack’s responsibility is also pretty unaccounted for in these dynamics (especially when it comes to Mary’s death) which I think stems equally from the fact that his soullessness—and by extension, his soulless actions—were caused by Sam and Dean’s actions and the general perspective of him as a child [who doesn’t deserve the burden he carries, and should be carefree], so nothing is directly his fault and nobody can get mad at him either or that’s also seen as unfair mistreatment). I also personally just think it’s odd because Jack in canon is very adamant about being able to take and hold responsibility (as it relates to his autonomy and wanting to be seen as a separate person from his parents). and, going back to Mary, Jack not only becomes psychotic with guilt over killing her, but after his soul is restored in S15, he has a complete breakdown from the sheer horror of what he’s done, and because, in his own words, it’s all his fault.

I won’t go into the worm can of people blaming Dean for how he handled reliving to his root trauma, but suffice it to say: he had every right to be angry, he was well within reason to act unreasonably, and stop trying to fix his conflict with jack by parentifying him with an innocent baby when he already has parentification trauma and that baby is merely an excuse to absolve Jack of any responsibility he had in the conflict.

I will always and forever love the meta side of the fandom, and I honestly owe my blog’s existence to it, but I still think we have a long way to go in terms of how jack is represented/portrayed in these discussions, and likewise, how that portrayal frames/reflects on sam, dean and cas ^_^

[honourablejester]

Heart: The City Beneath - Quick Class Impressions

Cleaver: This place is a world of eldritch flesh and eldritch blood, and you’re the sort of person who learns by eating. Quite literally. A methodology that can, if you choose, also be applied to people. Taste the flesh, taste the world. This is a delightfully tactile survivalist class that gains skills and power by getting squishy about it.

Deadwalker: What more perfect dance partner could there be for a thief and a killer than the sentient shadow of their own delayed death? Heaven and hell are mere vaults before the right fingers, and your death loves you, so why not? If you want to play a metaphysical sort of rogue, this is the class for you.

Deep Apiarist: The chaos of this world is a sensory hell, so you drowned it out by allowing eldritch bees to make a living hive of your body. Because that’s a thing sane people do. But you are now glitteringly sane, owing to the order-inducing abilities of said eldritch bees, so … a successful experiment? Honestly, this is my second favourite class.

Heretic: Yours is a heretic faith, a faith that would get you killed in places that are not here, a faith not in the moon above but the moon below, but her silver light guides your hands regardless. There’s a definite inquisitorial, Bloodborne-type hunter sort of vibe to these priests. The damnic virtues are a little bit on the intense side. But I can vibe with that.

Hound: Once upon a time, an unlucky few, three hundred, were sent to die so others wouldn’t have to, and did something dreadful to survive. Now, they can never die, and their curse echoes down to all who bear their standards. But you were always unlucky anyway, and someone still needs to do it so others don’t have to. Do you want to play a cursed WWI soldier possessed by the genius loci of the trenches, forever standing your ground for the sake of others? I love the lore here.

Incarnadine: You were so fucking good at being perpetually in debt that you drew the attention of the god of being in debt, and they wiped your old life clean in psychic balance. Now you bear their mark, and your life is a razored game of balancing costs, but it’s not without its rewards. I’m not entirely sure of the lure of playing a rank on the totem pole of metaphysical loan sharks myself, but you do get to buy and trade in reality while you’re at it?

Junk Mage: You’re a high energy junkie on the bleeding edge of magic, stealing slivers of power from the many eldritch beings that live in the City Beneath. You’re mad, of course, but what’s life without a little madness? I get a lot of PF2e’s thaumaturge from these guys. Also warlocks, obviously. Junkyard magic, begged, borrowed and stolen, but it’ll burn you out eventually. They’re itchy and I like them.

Vermissian Knight: The train system was plugged into the heart of the eldritch beating thing that is this place, and immediately broke reality, and now you, armoured in scraps of eldritch train steel, must explore and stand guard over what remains. Far and away my favourite class. I love them.

Witch: The Heart gets in your blood, oh, so very literally, and courses its power through your body like a disease. Exactly like a disease. But oh, you are a blood-red, beautiful thing in the process. Something between a witch and a werewolf, if you want a class that lets you plug yourself directly and physically into the eldritch vibes of the setting, the witch might be the choice for you!

Overall, the Incarnadine is the one that pings for me the least. My personal top three are Vermissian Knight, the Deep Apiarist, and the Cleaver.

Also, side note, there is so much body horror in this game. I’m vibing with it, but my sister was quite distressed by the Deep Apiarist in general, and a couple of the Cleaver’s abilities as well. This is a squishy, squelching, writhing sort of game. (Or, well, it can be. If you have a party of Heretics, Vermissian Knights and Deadwalkers, it might lean more grey and desolate and technological. But if you’ve got Witches, Apiarists and Cleavers, it’s gonna get messy).

[atlaculture]

Cultural Architecture: NWT Totem Poles - The Specifics Pt. 1

Among most of the totem poles we see throughout the Northern Water Tribe (NWT), four representations appear consistently throughout.

Ocean & Moon

The top section of the pole has wing-like extensions jutting out, with a circle design on the actual totem. I believe that the extensions are actually stylized ocean waves and the circle represents the moon. In short, I believe the top totem represents the moon spirit and ocean spirit; by extension, the top totem also represents waterbending. Given that the NWT's society is especially dependent on bending, it makes sense that this symbolism would be represented at the very top of their totem poles.

Polar Bear

The second totem, with its wide-set face and round ears, is clearly meant to represent a polar bear. As I mentioned in a previous post: In Inuit religion, Nanook (Polar Bears) are considered to be the masters of all bears. Inuit hunters worshiped the Nanook as they believed it was the bear who determined if the hunt would be successful or not. Respect was given to Nanook by the hunter hanging the bear’s hide in a special section of his igloo, where it would stay for several days. Legend says that if a dead polar bear was treated properly by the hunter, its spirit would share the good news with other bears who would allow themselves to be hunted. Bears would stay away from hunters who failed to pay respect.

Through the second totem, we see more of the Water Tribe's Inuit influence. We also get more hints of how important hunting and respect for nature is to the culture of the NWT.

In the next post, I'll cover the significance of the koi and wolf heads.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

[luckyvar]

You know, one time I did a challenge playthrough in Pokémon Sun and Moon. I continue to try again time and again.

The challenge?

Bounty Hunter challenge.

Basically, how it works is that there are some npcs scattered around the game that will give you money if you show them a Pokémon they request you catch.

And let me tell you, the end game of this team is a team you wouldn’t expect a player to be having.

So firstly, ditch that starter you get. That Rowlet you got? Punt that orb into orbit. That Litten you’re wanting to see turn bipedal? Throw it into the sea. No one is gonna choose Popplio (except me and some other people) so just leave that there. And then wait until you can get to the Pokémon center in the Hau’oli City.

That’s right. If you’re attempting to do this challenge, if you’re playing Sun and Moon, you have to first:

Arrive at Alola

Get your hat and read stuff

Meet Professor Kukui

Follow him up to Iki Town

Save Nebby

Get your starter

Defeat Hau

Do the Pokémon ceremony where you defeat Hau again

Go to Professor Kukui’s lab

Get the Rotom Dex

Go through the Pokémon Trainer School

Get the EXP Share (that you can’t turn off, haha, get mad at a game helping it’s targeted audience, a.k.a. Little Timmy over there, progress in the game)

Arrive at Hau’oli City

Use the photo picture that most players blatantly ignore

And arrive at the Hau’oli City Pokemon Center

Oh but that’s not all. Because you will get to talk to the npc to trigger the request of catching a Drifloon (SM) or Abra (USUM) but you will need to:

Meet up with Captain Ilima

Beat up Team Skull

Battle Captain Ilima

And then make your way to catching your Pokémon

Now that you’re fully ready for this Bounty Hunter Challenge, you would already realize that it took you maybe 1.5 hours to start this challenge. And let me tell you, this won’t probably be worth the time to play the games normally.

I say this because if you do this challenge, you literally have 9 Pokémon you can use. Depending on whether you have the base games or ultra, you will either get a team consisting of, in order:

Child Murderer turned blimp or Mr(s). Teleports away (Can’t even get final evolution without trading

An actual fairy or a crab that has a “why” evolution

Don’t be giving this dog a bath or a gem eating gremlin

Sea Landmine or Sexy Lizard

A Weak Fish you can’t evolve if you don’t trade or a piece of coral

A bear to not hug and a slime dragon to give a hug

An ape that’s either a rugby player or lifestyle guru or a bird that’s either a totem pole or just an owl (depending on where you have (ultra) sun or (ultra moon) moon)

The Pikachu clone in the eyes of game freak or a literal asteroid

The actual Pikachu clone the fans deem as one or the Pokémon bane of the Sinnoh Champion

Oh and the Legendary Pokémon you get at the end of the game? Necrozma. Lunala. Solgaleo. Nebby basically. Yeah just boot them into the pc box. Sorry Lillie. I would like to bring Nebby onto my champion team but unfortunately capitalism says otherwise.

So yeah. If you wanna do this challenge to take the vast amount of cool and interesting Pokémon and slim it down to a simple 9 then do this challenge. You’ll make a great profit of 69,000 pokedollars. Real glad you decided to pick your team based of capitalism

tl;dr: Use these nine Pokémon in your Pokémon (Ultra) Sun and Moon playthrough and gain a profit of 69,000 Pokedollars