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tkingfisher · 2 years

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Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

#crayfish #crawfish #crustaceans #nature

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 8 months

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along for the ride

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count:

summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.

author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕

warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!

“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.

“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”

“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”

“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”

Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”

“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.

“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items.

“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.

“What do you mean?”

seeking valentine

36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email [email protected] with a pic and bio for consideration.

[img01.jpg]

You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.

Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.

Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you.

Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.

Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns.

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme.

“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him.

He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.

“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."

"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."

Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"

"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"

"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."

Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"

"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink.

As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.

"I had a really nice time, Joel.”

"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"

"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?

“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He chuckles. “You want me to?”

“Please.”

Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—

“Get a room!”

You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”

“I took a cab, actually.”

Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?”

Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.

Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher.

The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.

His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”

You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core.

“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.

He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.

The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”

You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”

You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.

Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body.

Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”

“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.

Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.

His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.

He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.

“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch.

“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him.

You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there.

“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”

You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.

When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure.

“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”

You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck.

He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”

After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”

“You can stay…if you want.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”

Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”

“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”

“What now?” Joel asks.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”

Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 7 months

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Cân i Gymru 2024

It has just occurred to me that I can actually recreate Cân i Gymru for you all through the power of the Internet and Tumblr and such like. Given that Eurovision is out this year, please enjoy the Eurovision of my people.

The artists are much less important to us than the songwriters. Sometimes those are the same people, but sometimes not. The winners of this contest are the songwriters, though, the artists are just a necessary evil.

So! The entries!

youtube

First up! Heno, meaning 'tonight'. The songwriters wanted to write something that would make everyone want to dance :). The artists are therefore a sexy Eurovision-style singer who hits notes I previously have only heard autotuned in Crypt of the Necrodancer, and a funky DJ man. This is the most Eurovision-y song, probably.

youtube

Yr Un Fath (The Same Thing), by Jacob Howells! He wrote this one himself. Lovely lad, from Llanelli. A gentle ballad.

youtube

Again, singing their own song! These are the songwriters! Exciting. This is Cymru yn y Cymylau (Wales in the Clouds), which is a very nice song about how no matter where they go in the world, they see Wales - and by extension their Welshness - in the clouds, staying with them. A route back home.

youtube

Mêl (Honey). Same again, they wrote their own song. This is a song about late stage capitalism and the environment and having hope for the future told through the metaphor of bees. Slight funk/soul vibe. The stage backdrop was increasingly filled with clipart bees.

youtube

Cysgod Coed (The trees' shadow). A ballad about lost love and broken promises. The songwriter is teenage girl Efa Rowlands, the singer is classmate Gwion Phillips.

youtube

This one felt the most like a Swedish Eurovision entry. The singer is half of Welsh band Lofi Jones, but no one even mentioned that, because he didn't write the song, so it's not about him. The song Pethau Yn Newid (Things Are Changing) instead is about how life is moving too fast and we should appreciate the time we have more, because he's aging and everything is changing and he can't keep up. They probably should have gotten someone older to sing it.

youtube

Absolute vocal powerhouse ballad, Ti (You) is part-written and all-performed by music teacher Sara Davies. The lyrics were a love letter her grandfather wrote to her grandmother before he died; Sara then wrote the music for it. The background photos are her grandparents. Her grandmother was actually in the live audience on the night.

youtube

And the last one! Goleuni (Lights) is by a pair of songwriters (one music teacher and one West End star) who wanted to write a song of hope for the dark times, because the world is shit but Still We Persist. They're both talented and established songwriters. The performer is a seventeen year old schoolgirl in the class of one of the songwriters.

~~~~

So!

Anyway I disagreed with the first second and third placings of the Welsh public so hmu Tumblrs who are we choosing

#wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #welsh musics #Youtube

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callmemaeverick · 1 month

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Good Cop, Bad Boy Part II: Scary Dog Privileges - A. Aretas

Pairing: Armando x f!Reader Summary: You learn what scary dog privilege is and who better to give it to you than Armando. WC: 2.2k [I went overboard, I can't seem to end a story it seems] TW: men being slightly creepy

Ps: pics are not mine, they are sourced from the internet. If these are urs, lemme know and Ill credit where credit is due or take it down

Photo credits @yeahnohoneybye (bottom left)

~~~~

You didn’t notice it at first. In fact, you were the second to last person to realize it and when you did, you couldn’t un-notice it.

According to the people around you, it was so obvious, they had known for months. It was only you and Armando who hadn’t caught up yet. And when you finally did catch up, you did not know whether to laugh and punch someone. And the best thing was, the person who had to break it to you was none other than 15-year-old Callie.

Mike was hosting his monthly cookout and his expansive yard was teeming with friends, family and every police officer who was off shift. You weren’t really having a bad time, but no one from the station seemed to want to spend time talking to you for more than 5 minutes.

It weirded you out because you don’t consider yourself a boring person. In fact, you were one of the department's top interrogator. You could talk and talk and talk to the point that the suspects would let their guards down and began talking too. But that day, you barely got to make a conversation.

“Whoa, what’s with the face?”

You looked up and smiled at Callie as she took a seat at the vacant table with you.

“It’s nothing. It’s just…” You hesitated but then decided to hell with it. “Do I smell?”

“What?”

“Do I smell? Have I got something in my teeth? Is my eyeliner smudged?”

The kid looked at you like you’d grown a second head. Maybe that’s why, you thought.

“Uhh no. You look great!”

“Then why isn’t anybody talking to me?” Your voice raised a little bit so you quickly reined it in. “There’s like half the department here. My old partner is there but he ran off before I barely finished telling him about Dorn’s stupid accident. That cute new beat cop there could barely meet my eyes when we were chatting at the drinks table.“

The whole time you were ranting, Callie seemed to struggle to fight back a smile. It was an expression you caught and zeroed in on.

“You know something.” When her grin finally broke out, your eyes narrowed. “Spill it!”

The girl you once babysat sighed. “Oh, you have no idea how many girls would kill to be in your position right now.”

“Ostracized by society?” Never it be said that you were not dramatic.

“Privileged!” She exclaimed. “It’s your scary dog privilege.”

A beat passed. Then another.

“My what now?”

The groan Callie let out was something that once came out of your own throat when you were a teenager. "Sheesh, you’re old.”

How dare she. “I’m 29.” You bit back, indignant.

Callie ignored you with a roll of her eyes. “Scary dog privilege. It's like having a guard dog that's so scary, no one wanted to mess with you. Or in your case, talk to you.”

“And you’re saying I have that? That scary dog… privilege?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

You almost snapped. “Notice what?!”

There’s a subtle twitch at Callie’s lips, threatening to become a smirk. She leaned in and you subconsciously did the same.

“He’s been watching you all afternoon.”

“Who?”

“Armando.”

The mention of his name sent a zap of something unidentified down your spine but you had more than enough practice of hiding it.

“What? No, he's not!” You laughed but couldn’t help yourself turning to locate the man.

You found him at the far corner of the yard, having a drink with Dorn and Rafe.

It had take a bit of time and effort from Mike to fight for his son to be exonerated. Especially when Armando had helped with so many cases and after a gruelling and extensive trial, Armando was granted amnesty provided that he worked off his remaining years of incarceration with the MDPD and AMMO. And after the whole thing with McGrath, Dorn, not one to hold a grudge, had warmed up quickly to him. The pair grew amicable, or at least respectful of each other and the skillset they brought to AMMO.

Then, as if he could sense you, Armando turned and met your eyes.

You immediately tore your gaze away and shook your head. “Yeah, no. That’s… that’s ridiculous.”

Callie, who had been watching you the whole time, did indeed smirk. “Suit yourself.”

Stubborn as a mule, you refused to entertain the thought until Monday rolled around.

“C’mon, Mike. It's just a 3 hour drive. I'll be fine!" You sounded like a teenager; but you couldn't help it. Not when one of your superiors insisted on acting like a father.

"No! You're not going alone. Period."

"Then you come with me."

"The fuck I am! I got a wife to get back to."

"Then, I'll go alone."

"The fuck you not!"

You groaned aloud, exasperation lacing your tone. There was no winning against Mike. Especially when you knew he has a point. But this was a once in a lifetime event and you were not going to miss it. A part of you had wanted to nod and agree with Mike and just go anyway, but you had too much respect for the man to do so, even if he was being a little overprotective.

"Dornatello," You swivelled in your chair towards your bestfriend, using his nickname to butter him up. "Please come with me,"

The big man shook his head, not even reacting to the nickname anymore. “No can do, shortstop. It’s my turn to cook tonight.”

When your eyes met Marcus, the man raised his hands up and the question died on your tongue.

It was at that moment you realized how fucking single you were.

The sound of someone descending the stairs to the war room quieted your energy a little. Especially when you saw who it was.

Armando gave his customary head nod to his father in greeting before he quirked an eyebrow at you. In the year working with him, most of you could read him based on his face alone.

“There's gonna be a meteor shower tonight.” You explained. “But you need to go somewhere dark to watch it because there’s too much light in the city." Turning back to Mike, you continued your argument. "I'm a fucking cop, Mike! I can handle myself"

"I know you can. But a female cop, alone in some dark-ass national preserve can still die."

"I'll go."

All at once the room went silent as everyone turned to Armando.

"What?"

"You need someone to go with you, right? I'll go."

Someone shifted in their seat somewhere behind you and you knew it was a nervous Dorn. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Marcus discreetly pulling on Mike’s pant leg, a giddy smile on his face.

"It's a 3 hour drive and we would be there until early morning." It was a way-out. It was your way of telling him to back out if he was not serious. You won't get your hope up just yet.

But Armando just levelled you a with a look and shrugged.

You fought not to show how warm you felt at the offer, but inside your heart felt like it was about to explode. A small smile of gratitude worked its way to your lips.

"Okay. I'll pick up up at 8?"

"Okay."

A beat passed. None of you looked away.

And then. "Okay. It's a date!" Mike exclaimed, breaking the tension. "Now, can we get to work?"

Blushing slightly, you broke off eye contact and turned to the screens.

xxxx

When you told him you'd pick him up, Armando apparently heard, "You should drive my car.", because the moment you pulled up at his small apartment, he walked over to the drivers side and opened your door.

"What?"

"I'm driving,"

"Excuse me?"

The way he tilted his head and raised an eyebrow made you want to smack him, but you knew that it was an argument you would not win. Besides, if you were honest with yourself, you felt much safer with him driving than driving yourself.

Pretending to be exasperated, you exited the car and let him slide in.

The drive up to Kissimmee Prairie Preserve State Park normally took 3 hours; but with Armando behind the wheel, you arrived earlier than expected. Or it felt that way with how the time seemed to fly when the whole journey consisted of you mostly talking and him mostly listening.

You talked about everything you could think off. Your current watch on Netflix, your new obsession with jigsaw puzzles. And occasionally; you would get some tidbits of info on your partner as well.

In any other situation, with any other man, you would have felt self-conscious with the amount of chatter that came out of you. However with Armando, you felt comfortable enough to tell him things you don't normally reveal.

But then you stepped onto the designated clearing in the park and all words died on your lips.

The place was dark. Very dark and you were some of the only people there. Slightly down the middle, a group of men sat around a small camping lamp. They saw you arrive and almost all at once, their heads turned to you.

Despite being a cop, despite having years of self-defense training, a chill crept down your spine. Maybe Mike has a point.

"You okay?"

His voice could very well have been a weighted blanket with how quickly the feeling of relief washed over you. You turned to Armando who revealed himself from behind you and nodded, moving further inside the clearing to find a spot to sit.

The moment they seemed to realize you were not alone, the men ignored you completely.

That's when you remembered what Callie told you and an amused smile broke out from you as you watched Armando take a seat on the picnic mat you brought.

"What?"

"She was right." When he gave you his signature look, you elaborated. "The scary dog privilege."

"The what?"

Your grin widened and you leaned closer as if sharing a secret. "She told me that you give out this scary dog vibe that makes people stay away from you and anyone you're around. And I think I see it now."

Armando scoffed but turned away from you. "Fuck outta here,"

"You do! Now that I realized it, you truly do!"

"How?"

"My interrogations went easier when I have you in the room with me." You started a count. "Remember? That perp practically spelled everything out for us last week and I barely said a word. We went to that shady bar looking for that fence the other day, and the bartender cooperated like that." You snapped your fingers.

Beside you, Armando rolled his eyes, but you were on a roll.

“And on Saturday Callie said you scared some of the guys from the precinct because you were…”You realized what you were about to say and trailed off.

“I was what?”

This time, it was you who averted your eyes. “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Silence draped over you both and the darkness began to lift a little. People around you were more visible but most importantly, the sky above.

Millions of stars dotted the black above you and not for the first time, you realize how insignificant you are in this universe. For that moment in time, your work did not matter, your problems did not matter, you did not matter. You are a speck. Nothing more.

About an hour or so later, the first streaks of light appeared across the sky and you gasped, clutching Armando’s arm.

“Holy shit!” The view was breathtaking.

Your mouth fell open as you watched the small debris of matter that flew into your earth’s atmosphere, zooming past you at lightning speed. Every now and then, their light illuminated the clearing, giving you an ethereal glimpse of the national park and the people around you.

You turned to the man beside you and grinned wider when you saw the small smile on his face. People around you oohed and aahed and you joined them with abandon.

You had seen plenty of solar and lunar eclipses, even experienced an Aurora Borealis once. But this was the one that was the hardest for you to experience. This was the last one on your bucket list.

When the first flight died down, you finally felt the soreness of your cheeks. That's what you got for smiling so hard but goddammit it was worth it.

You turned to the man beside you.

"Thanks," You said and waited for him to properly turn to you before you sincerely added. "Thanks for doing this with me.”

Armando looked back at you but there was a softness in his gaze. Under the glow of starlight, he looked positively gorgeous. Gone was the hard lines of his face, the tightness in his jaw. Gone was the haunted look in he always carried.

All that was left was a brown-eyed boy who offered to watch meteors with you.

#armando aretas #jacob scipio #armando aretas x reader #bad boys #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die

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valyrfia · 8 months

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On Lewis Hamilton, Ferrari, the immediate past, the long-term future, and why Charles Leclerc will remain Ferrari's priority (contrary to popular belief)

Now that everyone's slowly recovering from the CHAOS of Lewis's Ferrari announcement (and one of the best days on the internet for a while), it's no surprise that we're all starting to ask ourselves...well, how exactly will a Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton line up work? Yes, Charles is Ferrari's golden boy, and has been so even as far back as his record-breaking F2 campaign, and yes, every single WDC of the past half a century rates Charles as a once-in-a-generation driver who would likely have at least one successful WDC campaign under his belt if he were given a half-decent car and strategy. But Lewis Hamilton is...well, Lewis Hamilton. His name and his achievements stand in a class of their own. 7x WDC wins in teams with 8x WCC wins across his career. His name is synonymous with, and often even bigger than, the F1 brand. Surely it's a no-brainer in this driver line-up that Charles is bound to be sidelined, especially as Lewis has made no secrets in the past about his hunt for an elusive eighth WDC.

However, I believe otherwise. I think that Lewis coming to Ferrari was not only accepted by Charles, but actively encouraged and furthermore, Lewis will not be given the n1 driver status by the team. Charles and Lewis at Ferrari will be, at best, equals, but more likely the development informed by Lewis and his experience but skewed towards Charles. To truly dive into why, we need to consider several factors including la mafia monegasque inside Ferrari, the curious case of Charles's old teammates, the emerging details of Lewis's contract, and the true value of what Lewis brings to Maranello. Buckle up, grab yourself a drink and a snack, (spare a prayer for @tsarinablogs who proofread this), and I'll see you below the cut. It's going to be a wild ride.

First things first, even though it's signing Lewis Hamilton, we have had confirmation that this move basically passed through Charles for approval and Charles signed his contract extension KNOWING that his teammate would be none other than Lewis, and he signed anyway. I'm sure this isn't a choice that Charles made lightly, so we have to put ourselves in his shoes, examine his reasons.

Charles has been outspoken about relishing a chance to learn from Lewis. And what racing driver worth their laurels wouldn't? In races that most of us can't bear to watch (Charles and Carlos in Monza 2023, and Max and Charles fights in 2022 come to mind), Charles always emerges beaming and giggling. This man lives and breathes for racing right on the limit, and how better to learn that from THE Lewis Hamilton. But just because Charles wants to learn from Lewis doesn't mean (as some seem to believe) that Charles will suddenly become the Ferrari n2. I trust Charles's judgement in this, and trust that Il Predestinato has unshakeable faith that he will be the one fighting for a title, even if his teammate is Lewis Hamilton. For any worried that Charles couldn't possibly hold his own, well, let's take a little look at how Charles has fared in a teammate battles in the past.

Max Verstappen is more often than not, ridiculed and made fun of for having a teammate curse. And while, yes, he pushed Daniel Ricciardo out of the RBR n1 seat, he sat through the rotating door of Pierre/Alex, and Checo hasn't been having the greatest time. But Max's teammates, more often than not, do have very decent carers after. Daniel basically has a guaranteed ride out of sabbatical right back into the fastest car on the grid next year, Pierre is still around with Alpine, Alex is making some serious waves at Williams and is being touted as a possible replacement for Lewis.

By contrast, Charles tends to destroy the careers of those who have been his teammates in Formula 1. I mean, we only need to take one look at the position that Carlos is now in to see it. At the start of 2023, everything was looking right for Carlos. He had a car that suited him and didn't suit Charles (extreme understeer), he even managed to be the only non-RB driver to win a race in 2023. However Charles, with three more non-classified (DNS/DNF/DSQ) races, still beat Carlos in the WDC at the end of the year, not placing ONCE outside the top 5 in races he finished since the end of the Summer Break. Even in a year that was supposed to be geared for Carlos, Charles humiliated him. Now, no team seems to be jumping at the chance to sign Carlos. Indeed his best option at the moment might be to sign with Sauber, try and build the team around him when it becomes Audi and hope that by some miracle in the first few seasons of this new F1 team it can be at least high midfield. But Carlos is in a sticky situation, he's quite old for a prime F1 driver in the current era, especially considering the extremely talented generation just below him. This news has more or less sealed his fate of not being anywhere near a championship car for at least the next 3-4 years.

Even looking back past Carlos to Seb. Make no mistake of it, Ferrari destroyed Seb's career–but Charles, the upstart young Il Predestinato and the pride of Maranello, is also wholly responsible. He refused to roll over and accept the role of easy-going second driver, despite the car and the team being built around Seb, and won not only his maiden grand prix, but won Monza as a Ferrari driver and finished ABOVE Seb in points in the WDC that year.

It's a fact that flies below the radar, but Charles is ruthless when it comes to his teammates. One thing Charles proved while being teammates with Seb is that he's happy to learn from more experienced teammates, then use their own tricks against them. Charles thrives DESPITE and almost BECAUSE of the adversity and ends up outperforming them and often as a result, if not ending their careers then at least setting them back. While it's almost certain that Lewis's career move AFTER this will be retirement, it's not only foolish but it's plain wrong to assume that Charles will try anything other than to beat Lewis in a teammate head to head, all the while watching and observing what it is that makes Lewis Hamilton a 7x WDC.

While we're on the topic of Charles and his ruthlessness, make no mistake, this Fred Vasseur takeover of Ferrari has been entirely orchestrated by Charles. It's pretty much a widely known fact that Mattia was fired to placate Charles, and Fred was brought in on Charles's request. Not only is Fred Charles's old Sauber boss, but Charles also has a cultural advantage with Fred over his present and future teammates that's worth mentioning, him and Fred share a common mother tongue in French and if they're videoed together, chances are they're speaking it. It's a tiny detail, really, but you tend to have unconcious affinity to those who share your native language. Fred is Charles's man at Ferrari, and this is reflected in not only Fred's words surrounding Charles's contract renewal, but also in the secondary driver signings. Not only does the new reserve driver, F2 FDA prodigy Ollie Bearman, seem very friendly with Charles, but the Scuderia's new development driver, who will spending crucial hours on the sim and in testing, is none other than Arthur Leclerc. This is a team that is deliberately being filled with Charles ride or dies, and it's of little surprise that Carlos found himself pushed out of the nest.

So we've established that Charles wants to go up against Lewis Hamilton, that he's bringing Lewis into a team that orbits Charles like the sun. But what's to stop Lewis from doing to Charles what he did to Fernando in 2008, and Nico in 2013? Even with the strength of Charles's conviction and the team Charles has around him, Lewis Hamilton is Lewis Hamilton. Even if Charles and Fred talk in French, Lewis knew Fred first, and has known him for longer. It's already confirmed that Lewis is bringing engineers and expertise from Mercedes and Lewis could mount a challenge to Il Predestinato at Maranello if he wanted to. So why won't he?

It's simple, Lewis's goal is not to win the eighth, it's something longer lasting.

Now don't get me wrong, if Charles does not match Lewis in the car, and the car is dominant. Lewis will win every single WDC for as long as he and Charles are teammates and he will do so without remorse or regret. If Lewis knows he can outperform Charles, he will refuse to bow to the slightest of team orders. Charles has to keep his end of the bargain and do what Nico Rosberg did in 2016–show that he can beat Lewis Hamilton in equal machinery.

To clarify, I'm sure that winning an eighth, especially with Ferrari, would mean the world to Lewis. Not only would he break a world record, but he'd bring the championship home to Schumacher's old team. It would create a legacy to last, his time in F1 forever immortalised in legend. But what about his life AFTER F1, what sort of legacy does Lewis want to leave there?

I think Lewis is ready to retire. His drive for Ferrari is a swan song, the fulfilment of a childhood dream, but we also have to consider what could have made him decide to not end his career with Mercedes. After all, he's been with them since he was thirteen, been driving for them in F1 for 10 seasons (soon to be 11) and he's been outspoken about that team basically being his family. While there are excellent points about Ferrari possibly being dominant under the new regs in 2026 and car development in Mercedes not listening to Lewis, I believe the biggest factor is what Ferrari could promise Lewis for when his career as an F1 driver comes to a close. Not only did Mercedes refuse to make him ambassador, but Ferrari promised him one of the most expensive contracts in the history of the sport and a joint investment fund to help grow Lewis's own projects in the future. Lewis is passionate about having a platform, in having initiatives to further his causes and it makes absolute sense that he wants to focus on these after his retirement. Ferrari was able to promise him security and freedom after the racing is done, while apparently, Mercedes could offer neither.

So if Ferrari isn't bringing Lewis in on this insane with the goal of winning a world championship, what do they stand to gain from it all?

It's simple, Ferrari is Ferrari yes, but Lewis Hamilton is Lewis Hamilton. The best and the brightest in the F1 world will be flocking to Maranello, lining up outside the gates for a chance to work with him, just as they did to Mercedes in the years past. Just as Ferrari can guarantee Lewis long-term success, Lewis can guarantee Ferrari long-term success. Even if Lewis only stays a couple of years, it is certain that the expertise he brings in will stay longer, long enough to secure Ferrari dominance and many WCCs throughout the new regs and maybe even longer than that. On the chance that Charles can't quite match Lewis and Lewis does get his eighth, he'll still almost certainly get a WDC out of it when Lewis leaves, along with a treasure trove of firsthand information as to the driving and the mindset of the most decorated F1 driver ever, information that Charles will carry on into his career and whoever he may face next.

And Charles will carry on, this is the most important piece of the puzzle. This is why Charles obviously relishes having Lewis as his future teammate, no matter what it will bring. At best, Charles can write himself into history by fulfilling the Il Predestinato prophecy in spectacular fashion, not only bringing glory back to Maranello, but doing so with The Sir Lewis Hamilton as his teammate, and cementing his status as generational talent in indisputable fashion. At worst for Charles, Lewis takes the initial glory of the first championship after the drought, but the subsequent championships will be basically promised to Charles. Lewis will likely not stick around for longer than three years, after which Charles will have a team of incredible engineering and strategic proportions with him at the centre for the rest of his career, which could easily last another decade after that.

Lewis Hamilton is Lewis Hamilton, and him and Ferrari have a lot to benefit from each other, but make no mistake, Charles is the present, and the future of la Scuderia Ferrari.

Lastly, although I'm sure most of you have heard this story, I'll leave you with some words by Sky Sports' Carlo Vanzini as to the origin of Charles's nickname, Il Predestinato.

“It all goes back to an early encounter. He was about 15 and they had brought him to Sky for some media training. We had this meeting and then had a press conference simulation where I asked him something like: ‘You’re starting on pole today but your team-mate is racing for title, what are you going to do?’

“To which he answered, ‘I race to win.’ So we sat there and came up with a more diplomatic answer, something along the lines of ‘I’ll focus on my race, but I will help the team wherever necessary.’

“But then this boy came up to me later and told me the question I had asked was fundamentally wrong because ‘there is no way my teammate will be the one fighting for the championship and not me.'”

#charles leclerc #scuderia ferrari #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #silly season 2024 #essays #f1 analysis #f1 essays

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cosmerelists · 5 months

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Cosmere Characters React to Finding Fanfic/Fanart of Themselves: A Collab with Cosmereplay

As requested by anon :)

I asked @cosmereplay to collab with me on this anon's request, and happily, she agreed! Basically, I've written the fanart parts of this, and Cosmereplay has taken care of the fanfic parts since I, ah, don't read fanfic and wouldn't know the really good jokes.

1. Shallan, Adolin, & Kaladin Read Fanfic

Shallan (reading tags): Hmmm...ace Kaladin, aromantic Kaladin, bisexual Kaladin, bottom Kaladin (I'll have to look into that one later...), demisexual Kaladin, demiromantic Kaladin, dom Kaladin... Adolin: What are the relationship tags like? Shallan: Let's see... blushes thoroughly OH LOOK KALADIN/SLEEP! THAT'S SO SWEET! Oooh...Kaladin/Happiness! Kaladin: Everybody's a critic. Adolin: They just want you to be happy, Kal! Kaladin: I-I'm fine most of the time!

2. Elend & Vin Look at Fanart

Elend: Wow! Stunning! Magnificent! Vin (peering over his shoulder): Uh, Elend, I think you're supposed to be looking at art of yourself. Those are all pictures of me. Elend: Can you blame me?? I mean look at you here! Vin: I suppose I look...somewhat cool there. Elend: Ascendent, I'd say!

3. Ellista and Pai Read "Covenant" by liesmyth

Ardent Ellista: Oh you HAVE to read this one, it's the most popular Cosmere fic by kudos! Kaladin Stormblessed and Highprince Adolin are soulmates, it's so sad yet hopeful! Ardent Pai: I bet it doesn't even mention their class differences. Ardent Ellista: No it totally does! And it really gets in the way of them kissing!! Ardent Pai: Well maybe I'll take a look then.

4. The Kholin Family Look at Fanart: Part 1 (Dalinar & Navani)

Jasnah (slamming a large tome onto the table): All right, everyone. I've finished my extensive research into the fanart of our family. Jasnah: Dalinar, according to my findings, people on the internet find you (a) extremely sexy and (b) wish you to be shirtless on the beach. Jasnah: There is also extensive interest in you being strong but vulnerable in the face of Odium, which I believe goes back to point (a), your assumed sexiness. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: I see. Jasnah: Navani, the residents of the internet desperately wish to see you explore women as romantic/sexual options. Navani: ...In general, or specific women? Jasnah: Mostly Ialai and Raboniel, from what I have seen. You can see here, and here. Navani: Sure, makes sense. Dalinar: (Does it??)

5. Sigzil & Lopen Read Fanfic

Sigzil: Bridge Fourgy? Ohhh... oh no... Lopen: Well now you GOTTA read it, gancho! Sigzil: I will burn it is what I will do.

6. Hoid & Design Look at Fanart

Hoid: (huffing and harumphing) Design: Well, I think the art is nice! Hoid: (harumphing and huffing) Design: The colors are spot-on, there's some symmetry... Hoid: (muttering) I've been involved in practically every Cosmere-significant event...I tell stories with colors and magic imagery...I beat up Kelsier that one time... Hoid: But nooooo they only want to draw me in the Mare shirt with mismatching socks and sandals!!! AND TINY RED SHORTS Design: Wow, look at my boobs in this one! They're so round and shiny! Hoid: ...I feel like you are not sympathizing with me here.

7. Rushu & Jasnah read "The Princess and the Captain" by ailvara

Rushu: Your Majesty I looked into the most popular fanfic by hits and discovered it's an ongoing slowburn romance between you and, uh... well... Jasnah: Out with it, Rushu. Rushu: You and Kaladin Stormblessed. Jasnah: Me? And Kaladin?? But he's half my age! And we've done nothing but argue! Rushu (blushing): I think that's part of the appeal, Your Majesty. Jasnah: Give me that. (reading) Well if he said THAT then maybe I wouldn't have... hm... Rushu, cancel my appointments for the next hour, I need to finish this. Rushu: Of course, Your Majesty! (sotto voice) Thank goodness she still doesn't know about the Hoid foot fics...

8. The Kholin Family: Part 2 (Adolin & Renarin)

Jasnah (continuing to leaf through her large book of findings): Adolin, according to my research, the internet thinks that you are a handsome, sweet man who wishes to be with his friends. For example, here. Jasnah: It is mostly you, Shallan, and Kaladin, however you want to read that. Adolin: As...reality? Jasnah: Renarin, if you are not suffering emotionally alongside a stained glass motif, or suffering emotionally as a child alongside Dalinar, then you are with Rlain. Renarin: With him as in...? Jasnah: Yes. Renarin: ... Renarin: I thought we were being fairly subtle! Jasnah: You were not.

9. Moash & Leshwi Read Fanfic

Moash: What are the fics about me like? Leshwi: Well, you either die a violent, horrible death or you make tender love to... Leshwi: ... Leshwi: ...Kaladin Stormblessed? You know him? Moash: Ok so here's the thing

10. Moash & Kaladin Look at Fanart

Moash: Okay...I should definitely get my ears pierced, right? Moash: I mean...look at me. Look at me, Kal! Hot, right? Moash: ...Kal? Kaladin: ... Kaladin: [silently pushing this art toward Moash] Kaladin: There are a lot like this. Moash: What, of you standing? Kaladin: Smiling. Kaladin: People want me to smile, I guess. Moash: ... Moash: Well, I bet you'd smile more if I was always looking hot in earrings, huh? Kaladin: Heh, yeah, probably.

#among many other things I love that all of cosmereplay's entries have the fanfic being read by women to the men #cosmere #cosmerelists #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Hoid #Design #Jasnah #Dalinar #Navani #Renarin #Moash #Rushu #Sigzil #Lopen #Ellista #Pai

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such-expensive-mistakes · 10 months

Text

Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following. It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish. She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone. At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work. “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up. Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh. Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?” Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands. “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film. It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”

“That’s… really weird.” Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.

Lois does laugh at that. “It is, a bit. But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says. “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says. Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says. “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.

“You can tell me,” Lois says. “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.” Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up. Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back? She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again. Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories. Those are all Batman.” That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension. But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home. There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says. "He's a good friend of mine. And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully. "Right. I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him. He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins. "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice. Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension. Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on. Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off. If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says. “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted. “I— yeah, that works. Not like I have anywhere else to be.” He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

#superpham au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic

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ms-demeanor · 1 year

Note

If Firefox is ~so good~ then why does it eat half my CPU when all I have installed is an adblocker everyone says to install (Ublock or Adblock Plus) and run like shit

IDK if it's taking half your CPU maybe your OS is bad at distributing resources and you should try running linux.

Okay that was the shitty/snarky answer because anon's bad attitude warranted it.

Real answers:

Possibly your computer really does need an upgrade of some kind; Firefox works great on my computer with an i5-11th gen processor and 20GB of RAM, but it (and let's be real probably everything else) is going to run like shit on a computer with a Core 2 Duo and 4GB of RAM. If your computer is old or underpowered and *everything* is slow, legitimately installing a lightweight linux distro might seriously improve your computing experience. And if you're attempting to run any Windows or Mac OS released in the last 5 years 8GB is going to be the absolute minimum RAM you need to comfortably use the internet, so if you're using a 10-year old computer with 4GB in it, consider adding RAM.

It depends on what you're doing. If you look at comparisons of various browsers some have better performance in some tests than in others, and there's no 100% consensus on what is the fastest. Besides, the people yelling about firefox tend to be yelling about privacy and tracking MUCH more than they are yelling about performance, but you're the only one who can determine whether privacy or performance matters more to you. However, be aware that there's no clear winner between the two in terms of speed. Every other review you click on will have a different answer and different outcomes on speed tests, which indicates that their performance is probably pretty similar (notably, Edge can be faster than both, but you probably don't want to use Edge, right? Like does it actually matter if it's faster if it's not customizable and force-feeds you ads while sending data to Microsoft?).

Your performance might be significantly improved with an extension. Plenty of people complain that if it only works with extensions that it doesn't actually work, but those people are ignoring the fact that people like having control over their internet experience. You brought up Adblock Plus and Ublock Origin - I have a very strong preference for Ublock Origin over Adblock Plus and if Adblock Plus came with a browser but prevented me from using Ublock Origin I wouldn't want to use that browser. So I think that having and testing a variety of extensions to find what works for you is probably the best way of approaching any browser. If Firefox is eating all your CPU (weird; that is not the resource it tends to consume) or RAM (which is the resource it tends to consume) I'd say to try either OneTab, which saves your tabs as a list so you don't have ton of tabs open consuming resources, or try Auto Tab Discard, which sleeps tabs on a schedule that you set and makes exceptions for active media or unfilled forms as you choose.

You might have a bad install - it happens! Sometimes things are fucky and you're having problems and uninstalling then reinstalling the browser will fix it.

But Firefox works, and works well, for millions of people. It's really odd to decide that all of those people are making shit up (for some reason) and that firefox is bad actually instead of doing some troubleshooting with your environment to figure out what's going on - especially when there are *so many* resources out there to help you figure out where the problem might be.

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