#festival millenni

[juliancallejo]

Julia Holter.

Festival Millenni. Shoko, Madrid. 20 de noviembre de 2024, 21:00.

Julia Holter ha estado apareciendo y desapareciendo de mi discoteca y de mi memoria varias veces. La he ido redescubriendo y siempre me he preguntado a qué viene olvidar las cosas buenas. Pero hay demasiada música que disfrutar, y poco tiempo para existir. Por eso tiene esa cualidad de desconocida recurrente, que siempre reaparece como una sorpresa luminosa, un juguete eternamente nuevo que abrazar frenético y entusiasmado.

Escucharla en directo tiene mucho de frustrante, su música incita a los ojos cerrados y el cuerpo liviano, a estar solo y dejarse llevar. Demasiado para una sala llena de gente, a pesar de estar fuera de la multitud, como el que espera cerca de la salida a escapar primero. Sus canciones, a pesar de todo, cuando quieren son como escuchar una banda de culto de la década de los 80, de esas que dejaban entre el frenesí y la pose. Y yo me estoy conteniendo, para no caer en ninguno de los agujeros emocionales a los que, intuyo, podría arrastrarme. Otro yo, todavía latente, hubiera sufrido mucho esta noche. 

La conclusión, demasiado precipitada, es que sus canciones están pensadas desde los sueños y hechas para los sueños. Abre puertas que no tenemos claro si debemos atravesar, si hemos sido invitados o si encontraremos lo que queremos, o lo que tememos. Pero tranquilas. Podemos elegir entre lo ligero o lo dramático. Entre el balanceo, o la caída. En los sueños, basta con chascar los dedos y despertar.

Alguien me ha preguntado si vengo de algún medio. Ha pasado un chico que me ha mirado como si me conociera; lo llevaban a la calle porque se estaba encontrando mal. Me he quedado pensando si su mirada era de socorro, de vergüenza o de confusión. Desde este rincón algo comienza a parecer ese sueño que se supone que, hemos venido a esquivar. Julia se ha tornado incisiva e inquietante. La sala estalla en aplausos y alguna botella cae al suelo. Una mujer bosteza y yo pienso que qué bien estar aquí.

Me estoy acordando todo el rato del directo que grabó John Cale para Antártida. Una luz similar, unos sentimientos parecidos, un purgatorio azul que anuncia el giro final, la batalla. Y, unas canciones igual de buenas.  Y un bis que parece invocar la música de Cale, aunque estalla en una euforia que no esperábamos. Quizás todo aquello se quedó agazapado y me costó dormir anoche. Quizás todo está en mi cabeza y me lo he inventado. Ahora, a la mañana siguiente, lo único que brilla es el juguete nuevo: la música de Julia Holter. Escuchad Loud City Song y Something in the Room she Moves, y su disco en directo, In the Same Room, leed sus letras. Descubridla, olvidadla y encontradla de nuevo. Hay que abrir regalos como si fuéramos niños. Al final, serán pocos, demasiado pocos.

John Cale, en Antártida, de Manuel Huerga. La película que menciono en el texto.

[natureselements]

Today’s good mood is sponsored by heavy metal 🤘

[nardacci-does-art]

When I was a kid, the world was full of wonder. Now the world is still full of wonder, but it's very expensive, & the capitalists & conservatives are actively trying to kill the wonder, & between my health, social anxiety & inability to justify spending on travel, I just order things online now & then to give myself something to look forward to. You know how it is.

[ellcrys]

the killers set at boston calling was SO GOOD 😭😭😭

[clophie]

i just did 3 15 hour market days in a row i am a BEAST

[breed-station]

(@ask-konoma) (Candy the Rotom) “Greetings! I must ask by the way. Is the Arcanine edible? Oh- wait he’s alive forget I asked that—”

Francis: Do you want a snack instead..?

Arcanine: Grrrr, back off!

The Arcanine's mood has worsened.

[ @ask-konoma ]

[izzy-b-hands]

rewatching one of the fyre festival docs after turning off that stupid fucking haunted house one

and suddenly. it dawns.

Frenchie could have sold the fuck out of this way better, and had the crew set on fire a bunch of rich assholes just like the party ship

cuz. cuz.

*fire festival*

[hidemiwoods]

Japanese Millennials

A big open-air rock festival is held annually every summer in the small town where I live that is enclosed by mountains. More than ten times as many people as the town’s population visit during the few days of the festival. People all over the country and even from overseas fill up the train station that is usually inactive and quiet. In front of it, an endlessly long line is formed in the heat…

[berriblossom]

Oh, Great Divine!

☆| It's time for a SAGAU, more so a comforting one. Reader's gender is ambiguous and gender neutral, archons adore reader, in this sense the Nahida tag is platonic!|

☆ Tags/warnings! | Socially Aware Genshin AU, archons and people of Teyvat treat the reader as a god or heavenly figure, religious references (cathedral of Mondstat and Narukami/ Sangonomiya Shrines of Inazuma) some minor lore for reader, Reader is referred to as "Their Grace" or "My/Your Grace" and "The Great Divine" ALL PORTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL!! anyway, enjoy.|

Within the lands or nations of Teyvat, for centuries the practice of worshipping an Archon was beyond common, more so for those who wish not to believe in spiritual practices concerning the gods of each element are more on the rare side to find. However even if such existed, there was one thing to never be doubted within the lands of Teyvat.

The Great Divine's presence over mortals and immortals alike.

The creation of Teyvat in many national mythos credits the sole ideas and creation to the Great Divine. Even the archons and the sources of their celestial names were blessed upon them by their divine grace. Depending on which nation you visit, some may say that their archon is specifically blessed by their grace.

In Mondstat, the nation of wind, song, freedom, wine, and bard's ballads, once every 100 years they celebrate the freedom blessed to them by Barbatos and the Great Divine. A tradition stretching for the last millennial to show the love and deeply routed affection given by its people and archon. Yes, Barbatos, or now the "drunken" bard known as Venti among his people. Every festival of a "New Eve" as they call it, is another 100 years for him to show his affection for his beloved divine. Despite his defiance to Celestia and the natural order placed after your departure, he still fully believes in your care and love for humans and archons alike. To Venti, whispering to the wind like he did with you thousands of years prior, even in his wind-spirit form. You'd sit together where now the great tree at Windrise and speak about the future of Teyvat, something despite having the authority over you simply spoke to him as:

"For what will come, Your nation will prosper and learn the true meaning of freedom and song..."

So to this day, he sits under that tree and thinks of the years since, missing your warmth from curling up in your hands as a wind spirit to laughing and humming beside you in his divine form. He has seen it for the last few hundred years, the art, songs, plays, books, and even food and weapons made in your name, and every hundred years he repeats the same. A small prayer from his soul is whispered into the wind as he tells his deep care and love for his dear grace. And the people of Mondstat no different, all gather at the great Cathedral and warmly sing about the Great Divine and Lord Barbatos as they place to wine, food, and gifts at the altar of your image. When alone Venti will sneak in and sit under your statue, missing the warmth of your hands but relishing the love in your image.

In Liyue, the nation of Geo, contracts, and the adepti, the greats divines are influenced by the first contract Rex Lapis made with them over 7000 years ago, even before Liyue was a fully combined nation. Zhongli remembers the conversation you two had, sharing a simple game of wit and tea. Then he was immature to your influence and power but now he relishes in it. Proudly in his vast historical knowledge, preaching his love and the power the great divine holds. How you could shape the sea with a flick of your wrist, how you've created mountains from your fingertips, how your vast knowledge is spread throughout teyvat as a bible to be studied and read over and over again. But mostly what he and all of Liyue celebrate is the contractable care and affection you give him and the people of Liyue.

This time around Liyue is a time spent every hundred of years a new eve of dawn as it is called, one Zhongli and his fellow adepti never get tired of. A time to give gifts of care to neighbors, friends, and even coworkers in the busy harbor. Even the Northland Bank celebrates by lowering interest on loans!

(But only for this amount of time and by the next New Eve of Dawn the Interest WILL reset)

But mainly it is a way to give worship to the Great Divine and their trust in Rex Lapis and his Adepti to protect and serve Liyue. Everything Zhongli has done was for your gratitude and divine love. So when a New Eve comes, he sits anywhere in Liyue, the mountains, hills, somewhere to overlook the harbor, and enjoys a warm cup of tea. Your favorite while imagining your smile as you talk, the games you'd two play. He watches his disciples and Apeti celebrate with gifts, food, and songs at your altar set around Liyue. He sips his tea and awaits your fated return, happy to share more memories and stories with you.

Within the land of Eternity, formerly transcience, Inazuma's style of celebration differs slightly from some nations. The Grand Narukami Shrine would hold a private ceremony, cleansing the sacred Sakura tree and your statue underneath, barhing the precious stone engravings with crisp clean water. Meanwhile the people if Inazuma would be celebrating on their own occasions, firewroks light into the clear sky, dancing ceremonies at the teahouse fill with guest.

However, the new electro archon herself sits alone at the top of Tebshukaku. Quietly walking down memeory lane in her mind. For the last five centuries of the New Eve of Dawn celebration, she'd sit in her space of Euthymia alone in solitude quietly sulking at the idea of your everlasting figure. How her and Makoto would chat down the lane of inazuma speaking about plans of you, speaking of your visions of the nation of electro, Makoto laughing at how embarrassed Ei used to be around you and your divinity. Now Ei smiles solemnly..

She knows now that she as archon must take the mantle, for in your teachings that it the goal of the heavenly principles you've left. Fated to return, she prays that you'd come to her first. She dreams and imagines in her meditations within her quiet Euthymia that you'd hold her. That her loneliness would be cured indefinitely. But for now she waits, with a plate of dango and some ofdly colored tea, shit eats alone as the fireworks set off atop Narukami island, she whispers a promise to herself and her nation on your honor.

"For it will be fate...my grace...you shall return to us...to eternity...we shall be reunited."

Far off in the lands of eternity, however, the island that formed the resistance sings and dances around the bonfire, the resistance army of Sangonomiya and Watatsumi laugh as they praise the late OmiKami, or the serpent god Orobashi. The fire dances as troops tell stories, shrine maidens sing and laugh, and her priestess sits while holding a book. She smiles softly. Kokomi looks above at the horizon and sees the corpse of their late god, she wishes silently to herself and for her ancestors to below the sea. That once the great spirit of life and forefather of the vishaps would return to bring life to the benevolent serpent. But for now, she sits alongside Gorou as they watch the troops enjoy the holiday.

Within Sumeru, however, and alongside it, Fontaine...the New Eve of Dawn has been on the academic calendar differently, which is how some older nations react. For those in the rainforest, it is a blessing of Lessor Lords Kusanali's birth. For the dessert, it is the bringing of a new promise for the scarlet sand kings doubted return. Within the nation of dendro, it is a holiday of now academic activities, no scholars shrouded in work, but a day off. The people worship by their own will and sit in taverns, bars, and cafes to drink mereily while chatting with friends. Some visit your altar within the Akademiya, and others pray at home.

Nahida sits on a branch of the great tree that houses the knowledge many wish to obtain, in her hands an ancient seed of fate, she herself has no memory or knowledge of where it came but holds ot and teasures its existence. For she has a kindling that it is tied to this divine spirit that is expected to awaken. From her small conversation with Apep, the seed is treasured. Hence, she holds it and feeds the growing plant bits of dendro elemental energy. She sighs as she watches the sun set and the cheers from the streets and grand bazars performances. Nilou must be dancing now, she thinks. She hums a small song while kicking her feet, her hands warm with caution. She may not know you yet, but she knows already... Your spirit and divine will watch for her and her nation. The goddess of wisdom has many questions for the great creator of this world, but for now, she just hums and sits happily, a great birthday gift indeed.

Meanwhile, in Fontaine, similarly, it is deemed a weekend off of work. Many go home, some go to the Opera to catch performances of the holiday, others read tabloids of the steambird that some random person in the court has the great divine in their basment all along. All fiction truthfully. Furina reads her book as she makes another plate of pasta macaroni. For the occasion, she bought extra special ragau to taste amazing. She dances around her kitchen listening to soft music. For years her mind would have doubted and even hated this day, anxious fears of disappointment and disapproval looks from her days as stabding archon. Would you have hated her? Did you think she failed fontaine and you? Was her a cursed human taking title of archon an insult to you? Furina had nightmares even of the prohecy and your return to see fontaine gone and underwater. But now, as the prophecy and fontaine were safe and out of fear, she ate and asked a good question this new century.

"What kind of pasta would their grace like..."

Soft rainfall drops onto the steps of the Palais Mermonia, the evening rain was forcasfed but welcomed, Neuvillette wrote on the papers softly, agreeing to a few celebratory events the Opera wanted to hold. Usually Lady Furina would be jumping for the task but here he was. Dread builded in his soul. This time of year brought many pains to Neuvillette.

A new century meant a new set of hundreds of years he gets to oulive humans, melusines maybe, but also the clock inches closer and closer to your return. Neuvillette spent early years of his lofe researching and discovering his species and kind for decades. Figuring that if you are the forefather and creator of vishaps and the sovereignty. Why was so many things done the way they were? Why ddi the power the gnosis and archons hold come from them? Why can't he understand your implications, even such his ancestors didn't wish to think against? What power do you hold and how did aid Fontaine in the end? He knew Focalor and Egeria spoke to you, even asking for forgiveness before your departure, so why? Neuvillette, places his pen downs and stands to look out the window of his office to look down at the streets of the Court of Fontaine, a glass of crisp water swirls in his hand. He sips slowly and sighs, coming to think.

"In this new century...please with it, may you come along too my grace."

In the nation of fire, victory, war and passion, raors could be heard from the stadium of flames as people of different tribes shouted and cheered the competitions down below. Surfing races, climbing achievements, conbat bouts, even break dancing competitions held. Mavuika sits at her throne above as her people cheer and celebrate, raising glasses, foods, gifts, and money even in your image. She slips away from the fesitivites to be alone in the speakers chambers, past the sacred flame, and into her personal get-away. Now empty, she stares at the famous wheel of the sun, Natlan has held for centuries, the same you blessed the first pyro archon with, as their rules of ruilibg were left in your favor. She smiles as she too holds her head high, similar to her ancestors before her.

She remebers before she was even archon, how her parents would tell stories of the Great divines influence, love, and power. That the spirit of victory belongs to the pyro archon yes, but the strength was given by you as well. She remembered your fave engraved in ancients temples and stones around Natlan and now some statues around the lands too. She knows too well her nation is blessed by your, not only for the peoples cheers and vitcories but the long-lasting stay they've had against the threat of the abyss thus far. Maybe when you return and ward off the abyssal threats for good, she top could ask something of you...for that she won't know until she sees you herself.

"Until we meet my grace...may your memeory burn eternal.. and your power live within my people."

-> Did i go overboard, yes...but eh...hoped you enjoy, and also i may make a small series out of this..who knows..

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 8 - May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor

Guys, Max was never going to be her dad (that’s gonna be reserved for Christian lol). Everyone on the grid will be a brother figure, unless stated otherwise – like Fernando is leaning towards the wise grandpa rule and Lewis will be the cool dad (I have a funny story line to go with this idea). All that to say, Max and Kelly will look after her when she needs it most. I also switched the titles. On with the show, and don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the tag list and or if it’s somehow not tagging you! Much love <3  

Well, to Max’s dismay and according to google, you cannot adopt your 20 year old teammate that he had met hours earlier.. He had called Kelly early Thursday morning to whine. The more sensible part of his brain also knew that Christian wouldn’t let that happen either. And Kelly had to quickly remind him that he could still watch out for her. 

Max seemed to finally agree at the thought of being one of the protective adults in her life. He knew that you had your manager, who you seemed to trust. But, that didn’t help much when you spoke of how lonely you were. He was going to make it his mission to get you to move to Monaco, where he could keep an eye on you. 

“Maybe Christian could adopt her,” he muttered, staring angrily at his coffee. What that cup did to offend him, he didn’t know. But what he did know, was that he’d see you again later that night. Another festival for him to attend to. He only wished that Formula 1 went back to racing, and not putting on shows that had a strict attendance policy. 

At least you would be there. There was a change in the schedule so that you could be with him, Checo, Daniel, and Yuki on whatever thing they were being put on for the night. The buzzing of his phone ended his staring contest with his cup. 

It was a text from you. 

Little Racer : 

max, i need your help 

what are you wearing tonight??? 

i have an idea, and I think it’s stupid but i want to do it 

Big Racer : 

If it’s you, I don’t think it’ll be stupid. 

Probably what I always wear. Jeans and whatever Red Bull top they give me. 

Little Racer : 

that’s so grandpa core of you maxie 

and what is this all proper grammar for texting lollll 

you are not beating the allegations you millennial 

Max’s brows furrowed. He was not a grandpa or a millennial. He just liked to use the normal setting on his phone with proper capitalization and end marks. He would just have to ask Charles or Lando to see if they agreed with you. They wouldn’t though…would they? Your next message had him actually dying. 

Little Racer : 

do you think that Christian will be mad if i come dressed like elvis?

he said i could but i don’t know… 

Big Racer : 

You wouldn’t dare. 

Little Racer : 

oh boy ladies and gents, he doesn’t know 

*looks into the camera like an episode on the office* 

Big Racer : 

Did you seriously type all of that? 

Don’t answer. 

20 bucks says you won’t. 

The three little dots danced on his screen as he waited for you to respond. 

Little Racer : 

just you wait maxie, just you wait 

You didn’t text him anything after that. Max could only call Christian to understand what just happened. He picked up after three rings. 

“Hello, Max.” 

“Hi Christian. First off, happy birthday.” 

“Thank you son. But I know you didn’t just call me to wish me a happy birthday. You could have told me that later tonight.” In the background, it sounded like a coffee machine was running. Max hoped he didn’t wake him up. 

“Well, Y/n just texted me about wearing, uh.” Max didn’t want to say it out loud, because now it sounded stupid. 

“An Elvis costume? Max, the kid called me last night to ask. Said she didn’t want to ruin an image for us if she showed up like that. But I told her that it would be fantastic idea. Poor kid sounded scared.” 

Max let out a low hum. He didn’t like the sound of that. You were in no position to worry about such a thing. If anyone was to ruin Red Bull’s image, it would be him. He had no filter and Christian often had to tell him to reign in his thoughts. 

Max spoke, “I think I’m going to see about her moving to Monaco. She mentioned she has a flat in Nice, but that’s far away from Milton Keynes, and not close enough to anyone. Christian, she has no one.” 

It took a while for Christian to reply. Max could just imagine the older man running his hand along his forehead. It was hard to think of someone so young to be so alone. 

“Yeah, I think that would be best for her. I’ll make sure she can afford it. Hell, it could even be a property that we buy just for her to stay in when we have breaks.” 

Max listened and nodded his head along. Now it would only be to convince you to move. But suddenly, he remembered his previous conversation with you. He smacked his hand on his head. 

“Is everything alright Max?” the Brit on the phone questioned. 

“I just lost 20 bucks.” 

You however, had no idea that this conversation was happening. All you knew was that you had the go ahead from Christian to wear your beloved Elvis costume. Would you make a fool of yourself? Maybe. 

But who cares. It’s Vegas. To your chagrin, Vito had told you that there would be no walk out, but there would be dramatic paddock entrances. He still promised that you would get your song. That’s all that mattered to you. 

While you waited for the night to begin, you roamed the hotel. Because you were bored, you actually did a lot. 

You started off with breakfast. You were sad that they didn’t have the machines that made Texas-shaped waffles, because that was only in Texas, but the pancakes would do. And because you’re trainer would kill you for not eating well, you took it upon yourself to have a yogurt with some fruit as a side. 

After letting the food settle, you went to the gym for that daily grind. It had been a while since you had been able to work out, but you needed to get back on track. You would be racing tomorrow and you needed to be at your best. You lifted some weights first, starting with the smaller ones as warm ups before you got to the bigger ones. The stretch bands were very useful as you squatted the weights. 

After you were done, you hopped on the treadmill. By using the lower speeds, you were able to practice your runway walk, as if you would ever be a model. But the speeds increased and you found yourself in a full sprint by the end of the run. Five miles wasn’t bad, and you knew you could have gone farther, but you wanted to take a quick dip in the pool before getting ready. 

The water was a nice cool down for your overheated skin. Running was not your first choice of exercise. You’d rather run out of money, than run in real life. It didn’t make sense, but it did. The chlorine in the water was making your hair gross, so you decided to get out so that you could take a shower. 

Like the kid you were, you had your outfit laid out the night before, as if you were going on a fieldtrip. 

You allowed to take your time in the shower. It wasn’t every day that you made your F1 debut. That had your bones chilled. Your Formula 1 debut. You. Putting your head under the stream, you rinsed out the hair mask that you put on. There would be no nervousness. You were born for this. 

The thought of Max’s texts earlier made you giggle. You were glad that he was so welcoming. You would be much more nervous if you had met the infamous Mad Max. But this was more cat-dad Max. Kind Max. 

You only hope that you won’t screw things up. 

You turned on your playlist as you started to actually get ready. You ordered room service so that you didn’t have to go somewhere to eat. The food was amazing, well, as amazing as hotel food could get. You curled your hair as the remnants of your skin care routine dried. You mumbled the words to a song as you stuck a French fry in your mouth.

Once your moisturizer and various oils and toners dried, you started on your more pronounced makeup look. You knew you were going to be photographed throughout the night, and you needed to look good. Looking at the window, you noticed that the sun was setting. That meant that it was time for you to get dressed, and Vito would be there to pick you up shortly. 

Your outfit consisted of a sparkly white crop top and some white pants. A red scarf topped the outfit off. 

You would be arriving right behind Max and in front of Checo. You were excited to see the two men again. Moreso, you were excited to earn 20 bucks. With sunglasses on your nose, you were ready to hit the Sin City. 

Vito could hardly contain his laughter when you got in the car. 

You raised an eyebrow, “What?” 

He shook his head as to somehow rid himself of his laughter. “Nothing kid.” 

“Well Christian said I could wear it. I’ll blend right in. And besides, I’m almost immediately changing into my race suit.” 

He nodded his head at your reasoning. You had pulled off crazier things before, so he didn’t know why he was surprised. Maybe it was because he thought that you might not want to in F1. But, on the inside he was happy that you weren’t losing your child-like nature. He never wanted to see that seeming innocence to leave. He knew that you weren’t totally innocent, but he never wanted to see you hurt to an extent that you quit being happy. That was his favorite thing about you. You seemed to care about what others thought of you, but you knew how to make yourself happy. And if wearing an Elvis costume to the paddock would make you happy, then he would protect your decision. 

You could see the flashing lights even before you got out of the car. American paparazzi were on another level. You knew that Red Bull were one of the last ones to show up, and that freaked you out. Almost every single driver was already on the other side of gate. Your nerves settled when you saw Max get out, and you wanted to follow him. But, you realized that this was what you were waiting for. 

The familiar sounds of 33 Max Verstappen (the original one) could be heard through the car doors. Max’s face morphed into one of almost disgust. You let out a giant laugh and rolled down your window before you knew what you were doing. 

“Max, I love the music. Very Mad Max-esque.” 

He quickly flipped you a loving middle finger as he scanned his card to be let into the paddock. Multiple Elvis impersonators gathered around him for a picture. You hadn’t noticed, however, that the moment you rolled your window down, all of the cameras and photographers were now pointed at you. 

You buzzed with energy when you heard Life is a Highway start to fill the air. 

On the other side of the paddock, Max had stopped to talk to Lando, Oscar, Carlos, and Charles. He also was waiting for you so that you could walk with him to the Red Bull hospitality. He glanced over to see if you were out of the car at least. 

“Nice entrance mate,” Lando clapped him on the shoulder. He rolled his eyes. He’s sure that you roped Christian in to play the song. 

“Well what did they play for you?” 

Lando deflated and muttered, “Let’s go Lando.” Carlos and Charles, along with Max, laughed at his demise. 

Charles suddenly looked over Max’s shoulder. At that moment, Carlos spoke up. 

“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan.” The drums and guitar seemed to be turned up to the highest setting. What. An. Entrance. 

Max had a glimmer in his eyes, “He’s not.” 

And suddenly, there you were. In your Elvis costume. And you were loving it. You waved at all the people around you, quickly becoming a crowd favorite. 

From his right, Charles hums and Lando’s jaw is dropped. 

“That’s the new rookie, correct?” Suddenly, George was with them, along with Alex. 

Max only chuckled. “Yep.” He popped the “p.” 

Charles spoke up, “She’s nice. I met her at Arthur’s birthday party, but didn’t speak to her much.” 

“You all will love her. Trust me,” Max said, eyes widened as you got crowded with the other Elvises. You smile could outshine a thousand suns. 

Your eyes quickly met his and you gave him a giant wave. He beckoned you to come over. You flashed a nervous look before it melted away, replaced with bravery. If there was a time to meet some of the grid, you really hadn’t wanted to be dressed as Elvis. 

Your steps were quick and you made it over in no time. Now, most drivers are tall, but look short next to George, being the giraffe that he is. However, you were another thing. 

You’d definitely be taller than Yuki by a couple of inches. But you stood closer to five-foot-six (167.64 cm.), almost 5 inches shorter than Max, and four inches shorter than the rest. 

You gave a shy wave as you spoke, “Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You suddenly remembered something. You turned to Max and held out your hand. 

The boys’ eyes widened as Max fished out his wallet and placed a bill in your outstretched hand. 

“Pleasure doing business with you sir.” You mocked a salute. 

Lando tsk-ed, “What did our Max loose a bet on?” 

“He said I wouldn’t come dressed like this. Little did he know, I’ve had this in my closet for years.” Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your revelation, and neither could Carlos and Charles. 

“Yeah, kid, you should have told me that Christian already gave you the go ahead.” 

“And where’s the fun in that?” You had a shit-eating smirk on your face. Lando was the first one to speak up. 

“How old are you? Max over here keeps calling you kid.” 

“I’m twenty.” 

It was an amazing recreation of that one tik-tok trend. I’m twenty, insert looks of disgust, uhg. Your heart dropped at their reactions. 

It was Carlos who surprised you. He quickly patted your head, “Aw, just a baby.” 

You looked at him in awestruck. You leaned over to Max and all but whispered, “Max?” 

“Yes kid?” he said in full voice. 

“He’s older than you right?” 

“Yes.” 

“Can I do the thing?” Max looked Carlos up and down before smiling. 

“Go right ahead.” The smile that you had was wiped off your face. You squared your shoulders and held out your hand. Carlos took it with a confused look. You gave him a firm handshake. 

“Thank you Mr. Sainz.” You swear he did a full body cringe. He was about to say something, but Christian had waved the two of you over, yelling something about time to get ready. 

You flashed a smile at the small group, “It was nice meeting you!” You all but bounced away as Max calmly walked by your side. 

“Did she just?” Lando looked to Carlos, who was frozen in his spot. He looked like someone had just told him that his car had blown up on the way here. 

He looked at his hands. “Mr.,” he gulped, “Sainz?” 

Oscar finally piped up. “Well, you are old.” Carlos looked close to a breakdown. 

Charles put a hand on his shoulder as he watched you and Max walk on the ramp. Max’s face was now stone-cold, yet yours still radiated so much warmth. “Come on mate. We got to go.” 

As they walked away, Carlos questioned, “I’m not old, am I?’ Charles could not, would not, should not, give him an answer. 

Lando and Oscar just looked at each other and then back at the disappearing duos. Laughter filled the air as they also began to walk to their respective hospitalities.

As you and Max got closer to the garage, you got a little quieter. 

“I don’t think they liked me very much. I knew the costume would be a bad idea.” The look of dejection was all over your face. Max looked over at you and huffed. 

“Kid, they just don’t know you yet. They’re also stressed about this race. No driver liked to drive on a track that was built in a month.” 

“You’re right.” 

“Kid, I’m always right.” You hit his shoulder. 

Christian was quick to get you, Checo, and Max all together for a couple of pictures. Since it was Christian’s birthday, there was cake and everything for a small celebration. After, the three of you were told to get into the racing suits for the opening celebration. 

You were with Mitch while you did so. 

“You’re telling me. That Kurt Cobain is going to perform. And I’m going to miss it! With John Legend!” Your eyes were wide as you zipped the suit up. 

“For the last time kid, you can meet them after.” You pouted as you tied your shoes. 

“Fine. But let me say, this is very Hunger Games of them. So Americanesque.” Mitch just let you talk. 

After you were ready, minus the helmet and all that, Mitch led you to the glass box. You turned to look at her. 

“Promise me that you’re not going to be dragged away to your death. This is so Katniss Everdeen coded and I cannot lose you like she lost Cinna.” Mitch was going to tell you off for worrying too much, but she could see through your eyes that you were trying to actually tell her that you were scared of the whole thing. No wonder you were rambling, you were just nervous. 

Mitch brought you into a hug and squeezed. You practically melted as you squeezed her back. Over your shoulder, Max was looking at the whole ordeal. He’ll give you a hug right before they went up. He knew how scary this world was. 

Mitch was given the signal that everything was about to start. You climbed into the box and some official closed the door. 

Mitch looked up at you, “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Your jaw dropped in appall as you were slowly being lifted. So she did know the movie! 

Max put a comforting hand on your shoulder as your face was suddenly hit with a breeze. All around you, people were cheering and lights were flashing. You suddenly wished you had brought your sunglasses with you. 

Max scoffed as he raised his hand to wave. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“This isn’t racing. We’re standing here, being observed, like a bunch of clowns.” 

“At least this won’t last long. We’ll be in the car soon Max.” You were right. If it meant anything, he would be back in the car soon, in his element. 

A beep let you three know that the machine would be going down in the next few moments. When the machine jolted down, you quickly stood up straight, hand behind your back, and put three fingers to your mouth. Your lips kissed your fingertips before you held the three fingers up. 

It was still loud as you did it, but the crowd died down as they watched you and mirrored your display. You watched in awe at the raised hands. 

The three of you lost sight of the crowds as the box was now back where it started. Max looked at you in bewilderment. 

“What was that?” 

You let out a large gasp. “You’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” You must have been loud because someone else gasped as well. Looking over, you were met with the sight of blond hair and striking blue eyes. 

“Max, you’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” Logan stomped over. 

“Dude I know. So not girl boss of him.” Max looked at the two of you in confusion. Girl? Boss? 

You and Logan were quickly swept into a conversation about American tendencies while Max just stood in between the both of you, looking like he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis. You and Logan were only pulled away when you needed to get into the car for free practice. 

As you left, you turned around and faced Logan, giving him a look of faux sympathy. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” 

“At least you didn’t volunteer,” Logan laughed as he turned away. 

 Max was still in the middle of his midlife crisis when Christian came to tell everyone that it was time to head to the garage. 

You felt your heart rate picking up as you got closer to the garage. You took a deep breath and exhaled. 

It was show time. 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959

[mariacallous]

Offal, aka organ meats, are about to make a comeback. Yes, I predict that brains, livers, spleens, tongues and testicles will feature heavily on the menus of Israel’s (and the diaspora’s Jewish/Israeli-style) hottest eateries by this time next year — if they aren’t already. Why? Because young chefs are increasingly inspired by traditional Jewish dishes, driving a return-to-roots style of cooking. And these old-school classics are notably innard-heavy.

Offal is an oxymoron; it’s both a poor-person food, which is why it was so popular in the shtetl, and a celebratory food, eaten on Shabbat and festivals. Many Sephardic cultures consider it a delicacy. Read on and decide for yourself.

Let’s start with an old Ashkenazi classic: chopped liver. While for me, it will always be in style, many of my contemporaries don’t feel the same. Luckily, young Jewish chefs have already set their sights on it, and may well have the power to convert millennial diners. Take Anthony Rose’s recipe in “The Last Schmaltz,” which sears the livers, then deglazes the pan with arak before blending, serving the chopped liver with thyme-scented caramelized onions.

Another well-known offal dish is the Jerusalem mixed grill. Made with chicken giblets and lamb parts, and seasoned with onion, garlic, black pepper, cumin, turmeric and coriander, this classic street food is believed to have originated sometime between 1960-1970 at one of two (now feuding) restaurants in Jerusalem’s Machaneh Yehuda Market. While the Jerusalem grill is far younger than most Jewish offal dishes, it originated in a similar way: Butchers had a surplus of unwanted offal so they sold it off cheaply, then some savvy chefs turned the offal into a desirable dish. The mixed grill was one of the first offal dishes to receive multiple modern makeovers. At his restaurant Rovi, Yotam Ottolenghi adds baharat onions and pickles, while Michael Solomonov included a Jerusalem grill-Southern dirty rice hybrid in “Israeli Soul.“

Of course, this is not the first dish based around grilled offal; Tunisian Jews liked to throw a selection of lamb or veal innards onto the grill, which they called mechoui d’abats, and Baghdadi Jews sought a similar smokiness, which they achieved by cooking chicken livers on the tandoor.

Roman Jews preferred their offal battered and fried, rather than grilled. Few know that their famed carciofi alla giudia (deep-fried artichokes) was often served alongside fried sweetbreads, livers, and — most notably — brains. North Africa’s Sephardi communities loved their brains, too, commonly serving them in an omelet called a meguina or menina on festive occasions. Meir Adoni referenced this love in his brain fricassee — a North African-French fusion dish of veal brains inside a croissant with harissa and preserved lemon — at his New York restaurant Nur.

Offal was also commonly used to add a depth of flavor to a soup or stew. Yemenite Jews — one of the few communities who continue to cook traditional offal dishes — make a soup with bulls’ penis and cows’ udders, while Eastern European Jews, particularly of Polish descent, continue to add kishke  — a sausage made of stuffed beef intestine — to their weekly Shabbat cholent. A slow-cooked stew called akod is one of the better-known dishes of Tunisian Jewish cuisine, where tripe flavored with cumin, garlic, harissa and tomato paste is the star of the show. Moroccan Jews eat a similar dish on Passover, which ditches the tomato paste but adds liver, heart, and beef dumplings.

Admittedly, there are some offal-based dishes that may find it trickier to stage a comeback. Ptcha – an aspic that reached its height of popularity in shtetl-era Ashkenazi communities — is arguably top of the list. However, it’s not without hope; ptcha was actually born in Turkey in the 14th century as a peasant soup made with lamb’s feet, served hot. This, I’d wager, is a more palatable gateway (it’s basically bone broth) to the Eastern European version, which opts for calves’ feet and allows the soup to cool and set into a jelly, thanks to the gelatin in the hooves.

It only takes one dish to change your view of offal from weird and unappetizing to tasty and versatile. If livers, brains and tripe were good enough for our ancestors, not to mention famed chefs, who are we to turn up our noses? Happy eating!

[iero]

I think I'd be more jealous of WWWY festival go-ers if My Chem was doing Three Cheers in full and, you know, the whole "This festival is a giant cash grab set on millennials and Gen-Z's nostalgia for emo music and what they think the 'emo' subculture is." thing leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

[respectthepetty]

You're American?!

Anon, this is the expression I feel you had while you wrote that sentence.

Yes. Yes, I am American. What gave it away? Me stating all the time I'm American (rural Southwest, Catholic, bisexual, a slut, Hispanic/Black, a Leo, a vegetarian) or was it the way I spell "colors"?

For an aging millennial who knows better, I actually offer up way too much information in the tags. So . . . fuck it, let me offer up more - I was born in Japan due to America's strategic colonization in over 80 countries (aka my father was in the Air Force), so my first passport has a picture of a week-old me! Whenever I renew my license or fill out any type of legal paperwork, I have to present five documents to prove my American citizenship since I was born in a regular Japanese hospital instead of the one on the American base. When I travel, internationally or domestically, it never fails that I get held up because my passport is American, my place of birth is Japan, and my place of residency is . . . just know people don't realize it's an American state. I travel often, but I think about two years ago, I might have fucked an international criminal at a Canadian music festival because I got held up in the Montreal airport for hours trying to leave and since then, I always have to go to the counter to print out my boarding pass and I always get asked additional questions. Odd, but if the criminal was who I think it was, the sex was worth it.

[windsweptinred]

I don't want to say atypical Millennial couple behavior... But if the perfectly tailored, white matching leather boots fit. 😆

When you and your boyfriend have the same

fashion taste

ear piercing

hair style

love for pets

issues

[aurumacadicus]

It's time to pick our August book for book club! Tumblr will vote, and the book club will then vote among the top three in Discord. If you’d like to join the book club, send me a message and I’ll send you a link to the discord! Keep an eye out for the other poll, and check out the books’ summaries under the cut!

Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher

It’s been hundreds of years since King Arthur’s Reign. His descendant, Arthur, a future Lord and general gadabout, has been betrothed to Gwendoline, the quick-witted, short-tempered princess of England, since birth. The only thing they can agree on is that they despise each other.

They’re forced to spend the summer together at Camelot in the run up to their nuptials, and with 24 hours, Gwen has discovered Arthur kissing a boy and Arthur has gone digging for Gwen’s childhood diary and found confessions about her crush on the kingdom’s only lady knight, Bridget Leclair.

Realizing they might make better allies than enemies, they make a reluctant pact to cover for each other, and as things head up at the annual royal tournament, Gwen is swept off her by her knight and Arthur takes an interest in Gwen’s royal brother. Lex Croucher’s Gwen & Art Are Not in Love is chock full of sword-fighting, found family, and romantic shenanigans destined to make readers fall in love.

Dreadful by Caitlin Rozakis

It’s bad enough waking up in a half-destroyed evil wizard’s workshop with no eyebrows, no memories, and no idea how long you have before the Dread Lord Whomever shows up to murder you horrible and then turn your skull into a goblet or something.

It’s a lot worse when you realize that Dread Lord Whomever is… you.

Gav isn’t really sure how he ended up with a castle full of goblins, or why he has a princess locked in a cell. All he can do is play along with his own evil plan in hopes of getting his memories back before he gets himself killed.

But as he realizes nothing – from the incredibly tasteless cloak adorned with flames to the aforementioned princess – is quite what it seems, Gav must face up to all the things the Dread Lord Gavrax has done. And he’ll have to answer the hardest question of all – who does he want to be?

A high fantasy farce featuring killer moat squid, toxic masculinity, an evil wizard convocation, and a garlic festival. All at once. All in all, Dread Lord Gavrax has had better weeks.

A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon

Twenty-nine, depressed, and drowning in credit card debt after losing her job during the pandemic, a millennial woman decides to end her troubles by jumping off Seol’s Mapo Bridge.

But her suicide attempt is interrupted by a girl dressed in white—her guardian angel. Ah Roa is a clairvoyant magical girl on a mission to find the greatest magical girl of all time. And our protagonist just may be that special someone.

But the young woman’s initial excitement turns to frustration when she learns being a magical girl in real life is much different than how it’s portrayed in stories. It isn’t just destiny—it’s work. Magical girls go to job fairs, join trade unions, attend classes. And for this magical girl there are no special powers and no great perks, and despite being magical, she still battles with low self-esteem. Her magic wand . . . is a credit card—which she must use to defeat a terrifying threat that isn’t a monster or an intergalactic war. It’s global climate change. Because magical girls need to think about sustainability, too.

Park Seolyeon reimagines classic fantasy tropes in a novel that explores real-world challenges that are both deeply personal and universal: the search for meaning and the desire to do good in a world that feels like it’s ending. A fun, fast-paced, and enchanting narrative that sparkles thanks to award-nominated Anton Hur, A Magical Girl Retires reminds us that we are all magical girls—that fighting evil by moonlight and winning love by daylight can be anyone’s game.

Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim

Shiori’anma, the only princess of Kiata, has a secret. Forbidden magic runs through her veins. Normally she conceals it well, but on the morning of her betrothal ceremony, Shiori loses control. At first, her mistake seems like a stroke of luck, forestalling the wedding she never wanted. But it also catches the attention of Raikama, her stepmother.

A sorceress in her own right, Raikama banishes the young princess, turning her brothers into cranes. She warns Shiori that she must speak of it to no one: for with every word that escapes her lips, one of her brothers will die.

Penniless, voiceless, and alone, Shiori searches for her brothers, and uncovers a dark conspiracy to seize the throne. Only Shiori can set the kingdom to rights, but to do so she must place her trust in a paper bird, a mercurial dragon, and the very boy she fought so hard to marry. And she must embrace the magic she’s been taught all her life to forswear—no matter what the cost.

The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas

“Only the most powerful and honorable semidioses get chosen. I’m just a Jade. I’m not a real hero.”

As each new decade begins, the Sun’s power must be replenished so that Sol can keep traveling along the sky and keep the chaotic Obsidian gods at bay. Sol selects ten of the most worthy semidioses to compete in the Sunbearer Trials. The winner carriers light and life to all the temples of Reino del Sol, but the loser has the greatest honor of all—they will be sacrificed to Sol, their body melted down to refuel the Sun Stones, protecting the world for another ten years.

Teo, a seventeen-year-old Jade semidiós and the trans son of the goddess of birds, isn’t worried about the Trials . . . at least, not for himself. His best friend, Niya is a Gold semidiós and a shoo-in for the Trials, and while he trusts her abilities, the odds of becoming the sacrifice is one-in-ten.

But then, for the first time in over a century, the impossible happens. Sol chooses not one, but two Jade competitors. Teo, and Xio, the thirteen-year-old child of the god of bad luck. Now they must compete in five trials against Gold opponents who are more powerful and better trained. Worst of all, Teo’s annoyingly handsome ex-best friend and famous semidiós Hero, Aurelio is favored to win. Teo is determined to get himself and his friends through the trials unscathed—for fame, glory, and their own survival.

The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner

A forgotten history. A secret network of women. A legacy of poison and revenge. Welcome to the Lost Apothecary…

Hidden in the depths of eighteenth-century London, a secret apothecary shop caters to an unusual kind of clientele. Women across the city whisper of a mysterious figure named Nella who sells well-disguised poisons to use against the oppressive men in their lives. But the apothecary’s fate is jeopardized when her newest patron, a precocious twelve-year-old, makes a fatal mistake, sparking a string of consequences that echo through the centuries.

Meanwhile in present-day London, aspiring historian Carline Parcewell spends her tenth wedding anniversary alone, running from her own demons. When she stumbles upon a clue to the unsolved apothecary murders that haunted London two hundred years ago, her life collides with the apothecary’s in a stunning twist of fate—and not everyone will survive.

Vermilion by Molly Tanzer

Gunslinging, chain smoking, Stetson-wearing Taoist psychopomp, Elouise “Lou” Merriwether might not be a normal 19-year-old, but she’s too busy keeping San Francisco safe from ghosts, shades, and geung si to care much about that. It’s an important job, though most folks consider it downright spooky. Some have even accused Lou of being more comfortable with the dead than the living, and, well… they’re not wrong. When Lou hears that a bunch of Chinatown boys have gone missing somewhere deep in the Colorado Rockies she decides to saddle up and head into the wilderness to investigate. Lou fears her particular talents make her better suited to help placate their spirits than ensure they get home alive, but it’s the right thing to do, and she’s the only one willing to do it. On the road to a mysterious sanatorium known as Fountain of Youth, Lou will encounter bears, desperate men, a very undead villain, and even stranger challenges. Lou will need every one of her talents and a whole lot of luck to make it home alive…

[quibbs126]

I know you've done this before but can you please maybe make a darkwhip kid, but with the basis that Whipped comes from the Millenial Tree family?

I finally finished her, this lady is Whipped Ganache Cookie

Fun fact, Whipped Ganache was one of the first fankid names I came up with when I first made my list, which was a little before I opened up requests, I just didn’t get requests for darkwhip nor did I have ideas like I did for pureraisin and darklico, but then I finally ended up getting this request, so I could use it

So basically ganache is like this chocolate sauce or icing or filling, it has a lot of uses, and whipped ganache is this whipped version with more cream than chocolate. I picked it because it seemed like whipped cream but chocolate, perfect for darkwhip

The thought occurs to me that maybe chocolate mousse could have worked too (mainly due to my roommate saying whipped ganache reminded her of it), but I like Whipped Ganache. And I can save it for later (but not the other darkwhip kid, and I don’t need a third one)

Whipped ganache:

So this is technically my second time drawing her, with my first attempt only getting as far as the hair sketch. I couldn’t figure out what to do for her outfit, so I just left her for some months until yesterday

But I had a good idea of what to do for the hair (even if I changed it somewhat)

But let’s get to the outfit. Yet again, I didn’t really know what to give her, other than she probably wears dresses. I put her in a hanbok since I was like “I dunno, that’s an outfit she could wear”. And sure it looks fine, but I wasn’t really sure it fit her, specifically with the request of her having some relation to Millennial Tree Cookie, but you know, no one gave me a goddamn answer when I asked (well other than my friend who said keep the hanbok, but she also said she was biased so) so I just had to stick with the hanbok. I’m still not sure it works to be honest. I mean, if she’s going for a formal event/festival in the Dark Cacao Kingdom, sure, but I’m not sure it works as her default. Maybe if I can come up with something better I can make a new design with that, but for now, this is what I have

I’m also not sure about her outfit colors to be honest. I wanted her to have pinks, but I also wanted her to have browns (and also that purple I got that looked neat), and I’m not sure I found the best balance in the end. But I asked my friend and she said “look good” so I kept it

I like the mountain pattern on her hanbok, I got that straight from Dark Choco’s costume

Sorry, I don’t have much to say. I came up with the hair months ago and don’t really remember all the logic other than it being long sort of like Millie and having pearls because Whipped Cream, and I have more complaints about the outfit because I don’t think it fits. But I like everything else about her aside from her outfit

Anyways, character time

So I think I came up with some ideas for her back in July when we were coming back from England, though I soon went on to work on Vanilla Lily/Witch Hazel (and fun fact, I haven’t looked back at those notes until right now as I’m writing this)

So first thing about Whipped Ganache (that I probably should have mentioned in the design section), she is very tall. She isn’t necessarily wide, but she is tall, taller than either of her parents. I just wanted to mention that

But anyways one of her main things is that she has healing magic, which is what she’s supposed to be doing with the flower in the sketch (wasn’t sure how to give off the glowing effect though). But also, while her magic is healing, it’s deadly towards things of dark magic, like what healing magic does to undead things in old games (actually as far as I’m aware that’s only FF7)

I’m remembering now, I think one thing I envisioned with her is her summoning a giant ass laser like what Millennial Tree does in his Skill, and when she fires it, her allies caught in it would be healed while her enemies (presumably made of dark magic) would be harmed

Whipped Ganache is generally a very serene and kind person, has the patience of a saint. I’m not sure she has a breaking point, she probably does but I haven’t thought much on it. She’s very attuned to nature as well, maybe not to the point of being a tree hugger, but enough that she doesn’t like blatant exploitation of it. Also she’d survive very easily by herself in the wild

Another thing about her is that she plays a harp. Not a lyre like what Carol or Lilybell uses, but a full giant harp. I got that from listening to Millennial Tree Cookie’s theme

Anyways, I think that’s about it for her. But also just a note, she’s not the only darkwhip kid I plan to make, it’s just that she doesn’t necessarily follow the same rule of being related to Millennial Tree. I mean she and Whipped Ganache live in the same timeline, they’re sisters, but she doesn’t have much that makes that trait noticeable, so she’ll get her own thing

But yeah, I hope you enjoyed Whipped Ganache