#if it's about food i'm down to write a whole essay
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Out of curiosity who from twisted wonderland would you trust to cook for you?
ooohh a lovely question! there's honestly a few of them i would very much trust to cook for me lmao. i'll list them from most trustworthy to least in my small list~
first would obviously be jamil. with how much he's cooked for kalim and the care he is required to give with checking the food's safety for kalim, i'd fully trust jamil to prepare something safe and delicious for me lol. bonus points because i love curry as well and was practically drooling over the food they had in the Al'ab Nariya event, so i would be the happiest person alive if i ever got to try any of the food jamil cooks (even if he insists that the food he prepares is nothing special <3)
next would be trey. this is also quite obvious lmao but how could i resist? if i'm ever craving for sweets of any kind, i would definitely go to trey first—no questions asked—because we all know he can cook/bake too. when playing through the heartslabyul chapter, i was so craving over the tarts they made lol
vil schoenheit. even though everyone was complaining over the meals he prepared for VDC training, i would at least give his cooking a try. because at least i'll know it's healthy and good for me hehe. i'd honestly ask vil for healthy food tips (and maybe some recipes of the food he cooks) bc my malnourished self needs some nourishment
maybe ruggie??? if i had to???? like if i was extremely desperate for food, i mean. really, i'm just curious as to how dandelions taste and would like to know if it actually tastes nice 💀
#twisted wonderland#twst#jamil viper#trey clover#vil schoenheit#ruggie bucchi#pandoa's box#mootuals♫#kind of wrote a lot lol sorry#if it's about food i'm down to write a whole essay#because food#f o o d#lmao anyways off topic but the pic you put in your ask is adorable!!
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Late Night
Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader
Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.
Word Count: 6.4k
A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3
Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.
Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.
The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.
“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.
The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.
You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.
Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.
You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.
Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.
From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being.
Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips.
Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.
For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?
Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.
In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.
So far, you only got:
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How’s your night going?”
“Good, and you?”
“Fine. Do you want a bag?”
“No, I have my backpack.”
“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”
Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.
“Have a good one.”
“You too.”
His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.
During your third month, that reason finally came.
He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”
“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.
“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.
“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.
“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”
“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”
“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.
“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.
He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”
“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.
Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.
“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.
“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”
He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.
“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”
“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.
You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.
You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.
“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”
“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”
You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.
“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”
“What’s at five?”
“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”
“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”
“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.
~~
Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.
The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.
You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.
Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.
“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.
“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”
“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”
“Yeah?”
“Interesting.”
The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”
Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”
“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.
“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”
“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”
“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”
“Don’t say that stuff.”
“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”
You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?
“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.
“Yes, actually—”
You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.
Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?
After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.
~~
“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.
The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.
“I finally finished with inventory.”
He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.
12:56
“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?”
“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”
“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”
“For sure. See you tomorrow.”
“Later,” Michael says.
He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.
You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.
You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.
You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.
This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.
His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.
“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.
“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.
“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”
“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”
“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”
“Is this your final year?”
“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”
There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.
You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.
“Are you still working here over the summer?”
“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.
God, you wanted him so bad.
“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”
“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”
His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.
“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.
“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”
With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.
The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.
“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.
“Oh, right.”
Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.
“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.
“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”
You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.”
Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.
You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.
They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.
“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”
“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.
“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.
“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”
“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.
“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”
“Damn, sounds like an ass.”
“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”
“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.
The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.
“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”
“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.
Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.
He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.
~~
When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.
“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.
Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.
“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.
“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.
“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.
God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.
“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.
After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.
As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?
“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.
“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”
“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”
“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.
“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”
“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”
You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.
“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.
You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.
“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.
“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.
You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.
You can deal with this on your own just fine.
The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.
“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.
“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”
You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”
“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.
You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”
“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”
You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.
“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”
Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.
Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.
“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.
With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.
“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”
The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.
“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.
“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”
“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”
“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”
“I was staying safe,” You defend.
“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”
“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.
“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”
“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.
“What?”
“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.
“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.
His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.
“How often does this happen?”
“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”
Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”
“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”
Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.
“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.
2:21
“Damn, that’s a long time.”
“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”
When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.
“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”
“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”
“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.
The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.
“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”
“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.
You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.
“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”
“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.
“Your pick, I guess."
You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.
“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.
“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.
When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about.
“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.
“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”
“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”
“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”
A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”
Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”
“What?”
He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.
“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”
Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”
“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”
The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”
“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”
You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.
“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.
“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”
“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”
“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”
Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”
“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”
You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”
“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”
“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”
Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”
You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.
“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.
“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.
“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”
“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”
“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”
“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”
“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”
“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”
“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”
#smosh#smosh games#smosh fanfic#smosh fanfiction#spencer agnew#spencer x reader#spencer agnew x reader#spencer agnew fanfic#spencer agnew fanfiction#spencer agnew imagine
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Alright, y'all are getting Bowuigi headcanons whether you like it or not because I'm kinda bored and don't know what else to post...
When they first start dating they keep it secret for obvious reasons
Luigi fell first but Bowser fell HARDER
It didn't take long for Kamek to figure out that there was something going on between those two
When he managed to get Bowser to admit it he acted like a smug bastard tbh
He agreed to keep it from being public knowledge until Peach and Mario knew about it
Oh boy... Peach and Mario's reactions......
Peach was worried and immediately interrogated Luigi and Bowser to ensure they were both in their right minds
After she figured that Bowser was being genuine, she was supportive but very hesitant for obvious reasons
First thing she did was establish ground rules for being in the mushroom kingdom and how being a king and Luigis boyfriend didn't give him a free pass for several things
Bowser reluctantly accepted Peach's terms and conditions
Mario, on the other hand....
To say he didn't support the relationship would be an understatement
He immediately assumed his brother was being used by Bowser for another one of his plots
Then he assumed Luigi was being mind controlled by Kamek (he's just there to enjoy the trainwreck from a safe distance)
Mario immediately stopped himself after he saw Luigis sad face
Mario promised to stop saying bad things about the relationship (in front of luigi, at least)
Mario was pretty much acting like a petty bitch about the whole thing
So much so to the point where Dk (they're boyfriends because I said so) had to step in and explain to Mario that he was being unreasonably bitchy about it
Eventually, Mario had to give in, but on two conditions
Bowser had to take a quiz about Luigi at some point and had to write an entire essay about Luigi (graded by Mario, obviously)
Bowser managed to pass (to Mario's dismay)
Anyway, after that was all settled, they could go back to boyfriend things :]
Luigi found out Bowser could purr after Bowser fell asleep and Luigi gave him chin scritches
Bowser was embarrassed after he woke up and Luigi just wanted him to purr again
Bowser purrs when him and Luigi are alone together :]
Bowser legally cannot be left alone in the Mushroom kingdom without Luigi being in close vicinity to him (yes, this was one of Peach's conditions)
Since Bowser is larger than Luigi, he needs to eat MUCH more food than a normal human being does
So if Luigi wants to make something for Bowser he needs to use like 10x the amount of normal ingredients
*cut to luigi cooking a huge ass amount of pasta in one of those big cooking pots*
Mario: Luigi, didn't you say that you finished cooking the food for the mushroom kingdom food drive?
Luigi: I did, this is just a snack for Bow-
Mario: HOW MUCH FUCKING PASTA DOES ONE TURTLE NEED!?!?!
Bowser is less easy to anger after he starts dating Luigi
Which means a lot because, well, it's BOWSER we're talking about here
The entire Koopa Kingdom warms up to Luigi pretty quickly
Since Bowser is taller he takes bigger steps while walking, which means Luigi pretty much has to speedwalk or lightly jog to keep up with Bowser
Eventually Bowser notices this and just starts carrying Luigi on his shoulder anywhere they go
Sometimes Bowser will slow down his own walking if Luigi doesn't want to be on his shoulder
#ngl the phrase “HOW MUCH FUCKING PASTA DOES ONE TURTLE NEED!?!?!” goes so hard#cw swearing#swearing cw#tw swearing#swearing#bowugi#bowuigi#bowuigi headcanons#ship headcanons#headcanons#bowser x luigi#luigi x bowser
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IS GORTASH ENTHRALLED?
(tl;dr: yes)
In this essay I will…
Okay, but seriously I did write an essay.
I got here after chasing a very different rabbit down its hole. I'd noticed that Gortash seems to have been throwing out a lot of his stuff (read: mostly employees).
Waldemar Prinski, a loyal banite, sold to a devil for a corn chip
Dark Breaker Antiope, sahuagin wrangler, A Negotiation
The Steel Watch Foundry, Orders to Black Gauntlet Rives
Scribe Yanthus, my beloved, sent on a wild bhaal chase
Vance Farnol, journalist, tho you could argue he had it coming
Goblin Worg handler at Flymm Cargo, plus the Worgs when they run out of Goblin to eat
And, of course, everyone at his Coronation
Was killing all of the patriars and their staff a grim necessity, Enver? Was it?
(Also, he's installed a giant portrait of Bane and a bust of Bane in the penthouse, but he doesn't have a single picture of himself, or any mirrors, for that matter. Food for thought.)
My initial diagnosis was macabre, but obviously I’ve moved away from that line of thinking. He's just way too happy to brag about how much danger he's put himself, us, and the entire world in. It freaked me out the first time I met him (as a Tav). Like I see him glancing at the ground and smiling coyly while saying, "If we're lucky, we'll become slaves," on the back of my eyelids when I go to bed at night.
For the love of all that is holy, could you please turn it down a notch?
I've been obsessed with The Ultimate State since I first read it. It's absolutely absurd nonsense. The item description says it's, "the philosophical ramblings of Enver Gortash." and I feel like it's worth noting that he doesn't write his own propaganda; he has the banites do it for him. But I mean, it really does read like he's twisting himself in knots to connect "unity" and "progress" together, but babe, those jigsaw pieces do not go together like that. Anyway, while thinking about this subject it dawned on me:
They're the same picture.
You know what other line of thinking these two have in common?
They both look so sad when they say this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I abandoned you.
I know we all love to joke about Durge or Gortash feeding the Brain the "Handsome, Younger Man" line, but what if that was just a smokescreen and it's been the other way around this whole time?
Netherbrain: You think you know why you are here. You think you can atone for giving me my power, child of Bhaal, by destroying me with the Netherstones. You are wrong. The Emperor: It’s messing with your mind. Don’t listen to it. Use the stones. Netherbrain: By eliminating Ketheric and Orin, you have simply unbound me. Exactly as I intended. The Crown is now mine to command - mine alone. The Emperor: Don’t listen to it! Focus on the Crown! Netherbrain: You placed the Crown upon me in the depths of Moonrise Towers, and there I was born. The Crown is not my weakness - it is what made me what I am. Gortash: You are delusional - the Crown is how we controlled you! Netherbrain: I respected Bhaal’s child once, but not you, Gortash. I allowed you to control me as long as it suited my purposes. You have played your part. The next order to be given is mine and it is this - die. Gortash: (crumples like a piece of parchment) Netherbrain: When the parasite entered your ruined mind - you became a pawn in my design. Who do you think told the Chosen about the Astral Prism? Who do you think planted the knowledge of Orpheus’ power, and the fear of what it could do? When the Chosen sent my thralls to retrieve the Prism - who do you think let the ‘Emperor’ slip its leash, knowing it would be the one to bring you to me? The Emperor: We were part of its plan… Netherbrain: I only needed one Netherstone loosened from the Chosen’s grasp to guarantee my freedom. You brought all three back to me. In doing so, you have liberated me. This was your role - and it is complete. Now you will witness the Grand Design.
The face of a man who has 20 INT and 16 WIS and is definitely not the brainwashed pawn of a giant brain that's been manipulating him in his sleep.
You think his puny +7 WIS save is gonna beat the Netherbrain when it's been working on his ass every time he goes to sleep for the last nine months? I say thee nay.
Also, and this is probably oversharing, but my dad, who I used to think of as a really smart guy is now a huge Trump supporter. He's an atheist but he'll parrot conservative christian talking points that I've seen clipped from Nazi talking heads. The words that come out of his mouth and the way he smiles when he says completely insane things is haunting.
What all of this means at the end of the day isn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it's kind of sad, and it definitely says something about his characterization. This man is floundering in a soup of his own making. A tragic puppet. A poor little meow meow.
There's an interesting line of demarcation between the various writings that he dictated to Scribe Yanthus, the things he wrote himself, and the things he says to us in the game.
Elder Brain Domination (from Ketheric, but about Gortash)
Suspended Ceremorphosis
The Grand Design
Studies of the Elder Brains
Accelerated Grand Design
Memoir Notes With Recent Addenda
Journal of Enver Gortash
He's so much more motivated and insightful early on, epitomized in Ketheric's entry, "Gortash fears that, energised by the dark energies of the Crown, the brain we now call the Absolute will eventually metamorphose into something new and more difficult to control." And he was right! But that guy's nowhere to be found by the time we meet him.
This one makes me particularly sad, "No weakness but the unexpected. It seems I shall need unexpected allies," because, again, he's right, and we could've saved him if the game had given us the opportunity to say, "No, there is another way. Let's not walk into this obvious trap." He wrote us a roadmap; left a trail of breadcrumbs; and we weren't given the option to follow them.
But I guess that's what fixfics are for.
THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TAVtalk!
#bg3#bg3 spoilers#bg3 timeline#Lord Enver Gortash#Archduke Enver Gortash#Enver Gortash#Gortash#The Dark Urge#General Ketheric Thorm#Ketheric Thorm#The Absolute#bg3 absolute#Netherbrain#The Emperor#bg3 emperor#someone please show this to Larian I'm not on twitter anymore#I tried not to editorialize but I failed
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Why is Aziraphale a hobbit?
Enjoys food very much
English vibes™
Has much circle-shaped stuff at his place (the entrance corridor, the main place where the ball was, the inside balconies of the 2nd floor, the spiral stairs)
Can't or simply doesn't want to catch up on things that go quickly with time (like fashion or technology), sticks to what he already knows, believes in old systems
Not only old-fashioned, he's simply satisfied with what he has and doesn't need new stuff or ideas
Has his favourite set of colours and will stick to it all life long
Uses stimulants
Probably doesn't like so called adventures
Loves his cozy home
Tries to be kind at all costs when he's talking to others
But at the same time cares the most about his own business (the Tchaikovsky record is to him what the spoons are to Lobelia)
Enjoys music so, so, so much (pls somebody show him this hobbit band)
If you still aren't convinced, watch The Drunk Scene. He's basically a hobbit. THAT'S ineffable.
Anyway here's more:
Why does Aziraphale remind me specifically of Bilbo Baggins?
There and back again (IM SORRY)
Likes to socialize once in a while, still manages to be socially awkward af
Can't tell his unexpected guests to get tf out
Has questionable moral system
Says dramatic and/or noble lines (Aziraphale: "Welcome to the end times", Bilbo about sitting at the door)
Gets attached to objects and takes care of them
Keeps managable mess around him
Daydreams but won't admit it (unless unconchously bc he's also naive and his mind drifts away fast)
Would be dramatic about forgeting his tissue
Forgets basic stuff when in stressful situation (Aziraphale and his books in 1941 explosion, Bilbo and the tissue)
Gets very much excited about specific things that are nostalgic to him (Azi when The Clues, Bilbo when Gandalf's fireworks)
Tries to be polite more than he can be
The way he breaks when at the limit of social skills and/or managing stimuluses (Aziraphale ringing that bell so everyone shuts up, Bilbo swearing at the dwarves when they start to place their orders about food)
Kinda does magic and thinks that's epic (Aziraphale doing magic tricks, Bilbo fkn disappearing in front of everyone)
Pays attention to words, remembers details and points them out when necessary (Aziraphale "but is it ineffable?", Bilbo and his fourteenth part of the treasure)
Down bad for bribery but only when all other means let down
Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing (liking even?)
Other Aziraphale-Bilbo paralels that don't really add much:
Has a sword
Has a ring and carries it everywhere with himself
Has a grumpy friend who likes gloomy aesthetic
Long-lived (kind of)
Both ace and gay communities consider him theirs, although he doesn't work like this at all and probably wouldn't even get the concept of orientation at first
Probably thinks he looks cool in his reading glasses (i'm not sure if Bilbo has such but i like to think that way)
That's already a litany and i don't want to write a whole essay. I promise that there are more such characteristics, those will have to be enough for you now. And if they aren't just open those two books.
To sum everything up, considering all mentioned traits and my own experience, i surely can place a statement that all three of us are neurodivergents, thank you very much.
#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#good omens#good omens tv#aziraphale#middle earth#good omens fandom#neurodivergent#neurodiversity#autism#autistic adult#autism spectrum disorder#adhd#adhd adult
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Bob and Gene's relationship is so important to me 😭
I could write actual essays about them, but their relationship, when it actually gets a bit of focus, is the sweetest, most endearing thing on planet earth. People who say they don't like each other have obviously not seen the show, because these two adore each other. Here are these two people who are so different, and usually don't understand each other, but always try to anyway. And despite their differences, they have some notable similarities they can bond over as well.
Especially when it comes to Bob. Even though Gene is way more eccentric and enthusiastic than he ever was (and is), he never puts down Gene for his interests and instead encourages them. And he's willing to give Gene some extra confidence whenever he needs it. One of my favorite examples is this exchange from the episode "Best Burger":
Gene saying he's always admired Bob gets. me. every. time!!!!! It's so clear by this scene how much Gene loves his dad, and just wants to do right by him! For anyone who says Gene was annoying or frustrating in this episode, I point to this scene--he was genuinely remorseful for getting distracted (which is very normal for a kid his age) and gave Bob a compliment that I'm sure he cherished despite the fact that he was crunched on time. Sure, Louise admires Bob as well, but would never outright say it like Gene, so I'm sure Bob has a soft spot for his son because of this moment. Also, I think it's so sweet how despite running out of time and being stressed, he still apologizes to Gene for snapping. There are a lot of layers to this scene, which is why it's one of my favorites.
Then, of course, there's Bob being the best Autism Dad in "The Laser-Inth", but I've already said so much about this episode:
He just wants to share his interests with Gene and is so sweet and understanding when Gene gets sensory overload 🥲
Oh yes, and then there's "Diarrhea of a Poopy Kid", where Bob says that he loves to feed Gene and him offering to eat with Gene once Gene gets all better 🥺:
Gene inheriting Bob's love of food is so sweet and lovely 😭 Also, I love how supportive Bob is of Gene's Thanksgiving song. And he saying that Gene was the only one excited about his new, experimental Thanksgiving menu--
Oh yes, and there was the episode where they got trapped on a trapeze, and Bob said he'd never let anything happen to Gene! They indeed have a beautiful relationship:
Bob is always there to calm Gene whenever he's feeling stressed, and I love it. He feels like Gene's rock, in a way, a shoulder he can always lean on whenever he needs it.
And that time they got excited about fixing Helen's sink!!! That was so adorable. Plus, it led to one of the best outros of the whole show:
youtube
Guess what? I'm not even done yet! One of my absolute favorite moments of them was in the episode "Boys Just Wanna Have Fungus", and at the end, they call each other their heroes. I mean 🥹
They admire each other so much! And I agree that they'd probably be able to survive at least a couple days in the Apocalypse together. It helps that Bob's a cook.
And more recently, there was the time Gene realized how terrible VR is, and despite his nausea, Bob stuck around the whole time:
He didn't have to stick around, he just wanted to, because he felt bad about Gene having a bad time. He would move heaven and earth for his son no matter what, and it's so beautiful to see.
I could list more examples, but I think you get the idea. Not only do Bob and Gene love each other, but they have one of the strongest and sweetest relationships in the series.
#bob belcher#gene belcher#they're so important to me you don't understand#sure gene loves linda so much and is quite similar to her#but he's actually said himself that he looks up to bob!!! he loves his dad so much and wants to do right by bob#and bob supports whatever gene wants to do and can't handle it whenever gene is sad#he's always there and wants to be a better father than his own and it shows#i like to think in the future gene will look a lot like bob and will maybe dedicate a song or two to bob#Youtube
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In Defense of Dramione - an essay
Okay, time for another Ted talk/ soapbox/ pointless rambling...Putting it under the cut because I have opinions.
In Defense of Dramione - an essay
First of all, I want to say I ship Dramione. Which is a recent thing, specifically about half a year ago. I didn't always because well it never occurred to me that you could. Of course, that's how ships are. We ship some ships bc they're canon, okay, fine. But we ship a whole lot others that aren't because you name whatever reason (they've got chemistry, they WORK, they're better than the canonically approved pairings whatever the hell else, idk). My point is, it had never crossed my mind that I myself would actually like the idea of Draco and Hermione. Bc naturally, you look at them and you think, "He did insult her when they were children. He was an asshat, etc etc." But...BUT.
You know that trope Enemies to Lovers? Ever heard of redemption arcs? Yeah, those are things. Of course, I don't speak on behalf of everyone in the fandom because we all have our reasons for why. But I ship them because there is potential in Draco's character for growth, for repentance, for redemption. I believe that he's capable, when he's an adult of realizing that he fucked up and that the beliefs he was spoonfed as a child are not the law of the land. I've read more fics than I can count that describe this character arc for him and they do it masterfully. Honestly, I think he's a pretty complex character and I believe that we see a sliver of that in the last few movies. Like look, in 6th year, Harry hit him with Sectumsempra and nearly killed him. But when the Golden Trio were at the Manor and it was on Draco's shoulders to identify Harry and basically seal their doom, did he do it? Did he rat them out? Nope.
Maybe this wasn't exactly Draco "forgiving" Harry, admittedly. But Draco saw that Harry was their only hope for destroying Voldemort or for having some sliver of a winning chance, of a possibility of surviving the mess Voldemort was orchestrating. He obviously deemed it important enough to dare to lie, especially knowing that Bellatrix would have summoned the Dark Lord himself in the next few moments. If Draco really didn't care about the outcome of everything, he wouldn't have done that. If anything, we see that he cares at least about the safety of his family because that could have also been the motive. But that gets me thinking, couldn't he also have confirmed Harry's identity? Voldy would have arrived, perhaps praised Draco and spared the Malfoys to die another die. So really, Draco might have gotten more out of it if he HAD confirmed Harry's identity. Hmm food for thought.
Second point, I'm not going to judge anyone in the fandom because of reasons stated above, but I will go so far as to say, please, if you don't ship Dramione, that's okay. Everyone has their own cup of tea, but please, do NOT claim that all of us (that every single one of us who happen to support this ship) are and I quote "are just a bunch of horny teenagers desperate for some pretty boy and pretty girl sex". That isn't fair and it frankly isn't true, so please don't. I know many wonderful people who have crafted amazing stories and shown great talent through their writing to express the complexities I've just spoken about.
I'll end by saying that we all have our ships, and that's okay. There's no real right or wrong inasfaras who you ship with whom. But it's a basic gesture of respect, I think, to let others love the pairings that they love. Spreading hatred, ill-will or just unkindness toward those of us who enjoy a particular ship, that's not cool and that's what brings us down in what should be something we all enjoy and go to find joy and share that joy with others.
Okay, it seems I really defended Draco more than Hermione here but I will die on this hill and defend my dorks. Fight me on it (joking here but really though. XD) Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.
#my ramblings#dramione#draco malfoy#hermione granger#in defense of dramione#because i'm sick of seeing people throwing unnecessary shade on this beautiful fandom#thanks for coming to my ted talk
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"They never taught us x in school" is sometimes a criticism of your school's biases or specific teachers being trash, but I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that kids have each subject once or twice a week, and learn at a high school level. You didn't get to learn a comprehensive history of your country's politics and culture because there wasn't enough time in between learning every other subject and doing all your extracurricular projects and learning how to write essays better than a toddler. And christknows kids barely do homework let alone read their textbooks cover to cover to see what they missed in class.
The point of school wasn't to teach you specifics about every topic on earth, that was never possible. It was making kids literate and setting them up for their future.
Back when kids were just taught to memorise flags and country names, schools caught flak for not teaching them about the culture and politics of those places ('facts instead of knowledge'). Now, when they DO teach you about a couple of countries' cultures and histories in more depth, people complain that it's too specific, or that those aren't the right country or time in history to learn about. You see the problem? The VASTNESS of planet earth and all of relevant human history? The generalised skills are the most useful ones, and I promise you they taught you those at school, even if they didn't give you a checklist of everything you would need to know to become ~informed about the world~. And now people are pointing out that students can't name every place on the globe, when that was never a skill anybody has ever used in their lives. (Psst -- globes and maps exist.)
Look through your old schoolbooks. They taught you how to analyse souces in history, and learning about WW2 or whatever was just a way to do that. In English, you learned how to recognise persuasive writing and how to do it yourself, probably by analysing everything from newspapers to poems. You were taught about other cultures and peoples in their respective language classes, you studied at least one. You might have learned about the impacts of tourism and climate change in geography and all the things we're doing to balance them. In chemistry and physics you learned about practical experiments and how they relate to real life phenomena that affect us daily. Food tech/woodworking/graphic design/resistant materials taught you about the design and production of new market products. You probably even learned the rules of the road as a bicyclist and pedestrian at school. School taught you about diseases and vaccines and handwashing, they taught you how to LOOK UP INFORMATION in libraries and how to format sources, and if you're on the younger end, they taught you how to use Google and probably made you get an email address when you didn't see the point of them.
If you were never taught skills, then I'm sorry. But half the point of school is teaching kids how to CONTINUE learning their whole lives. It's not to catch them up on everything that happened in the world by age 18. If you had to know everything important by the time you graduated, you'd never have left
#“i didn't learn about the black panthers” neither did i. but we both know about them.#my highschool was a good one and it still didn't teach every student everything#for example only the A class learned german and the B class did spanish. only the A class learned about the Tsar Nicolas#only the b class did graphic design and we got stuck with woodworking#schooling#history#education
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knock knock ⭐ losing battle plssss
(future me adding this later because I want people to see this without reading this whole mess: In The Losing Battle, Lamina loves Treech while Tanner loves the idea of Treech. Explanation is at the end of the post below)
Omg okay there is so much I could and want to talk about but I'd be writing several essays so I'll try to keep this contained to one thing. If anyone else is interested I'll ramble about the other stuff because there is so much that I haven't put into text yet or have kept vague/implied so far (IE what exactly happened between Treech and Vipsania during the interviews and dynamics between characters that are neither Treech nor Lamina). A lot of it is due to perspective restraints, because I love me an unreliable narrator to the point where I've never written anything that didn't contain it to some degree but it does make it difficult to fully get across what the character thinks vs what's actually happening around them. There's a lot of smaller inaccuracies in their perception of reality that I don't see anyone mentioning (though to be fair not many people talk to me about the fic) so I don't know if anyone caught them or not. A shame, really, because I've put a stupid amount of thought into them.
Also, there's just so much to say about all my fics but especially this one! I could talk about all the different motivations of characters who aren't very present or the tensions building in the background or the deep explanations of why characters do what they do that TreeMina isn't self-aware or present enough for to realize or I could talk about how this whole fic's basic premise is the soul-crushing reality that major, world-shattering changes on a personal level barely have any impact on the bigger picture until decades in the future but I'll pick just one. Oohh this is gonna be difficult I just really want to type whatever comes to mind but I can't. But! That's enough useless introductory words. Onto the unhinged ramblings of a mad entity!
The mini LumberHouse subplot! Otherwise known as why Tanner really doesn't like Lamina in this fic, even if it isn't that apparent due to how small his role is in the story.
I'm choosing Tanner because I have a lot to say about him, but unlike the main duo or Vipsania and Pup, Tanner isn't gonna get a big spotlight chapter as it stands right now. Maybe as a mini spin off one-shot but I'm not planning on it. Vip and Pup will get more focus later, especially once Treech and Lamina are out of the arena, but Tanner just doesn't have enough impact on the story to get that. Which is the intention here.
My basic idea for Tanner is that he's someone who very clearly has his own life and complicated emotions during the games, with pain and drama and the whole shebang, but it all happens in the background. You can get a good idea of his struggles if you pay attention but it's just as easy to read past and not even notice, because he's not a main character. He's my representation for the way all these kids had their own stories that could just have easily been the one you were reading, but you aren't. So you only get glimpses whenever one of the actual main characters is close enough to take note. Most of his story is implied, with enough room for other people to have different interpretations than what I intended. The timeline in my head for the Tanner/Treech arc of Tanner's life is as follows:
Tanner didn't even really notice Treech before the arena bombing. Sure, he enjoyed the singing and he knew his name, but at most he really noticed him due to his proximity to Lamina, who Tanner tended to pay attention to due to her crying. Then Treech had the balls to turn Coral's offer down during the bombing. and Tanner really started to see Treech. The way he shared all of his food, the small ways in which he showed kindness, the way his face lit up so prettily when he smiled. Tanner became intrigued, but only ever from a distance. With dawning horror he realizes he's developed a crush on a boy he'll be forced to kill in a matter of days, and he can't even go and talk to him. When they meet up in the arena, it's no accident. Tanner deliberately snuck away from Coral and Mizzen to see if he could catch a glimpse of Treech and possibly even talk to him, if only to give himself some closure. When he finds Treech with Dill, his feelings deepen, but when he hears Lamina calling for him... When he sees the way those two interact, he knows he's lost. He lost before he even began.
See, Tanner dislikes Lamina, but it's not for anything she's done. It's because she has what he wants to have: A connection with Treech. She's had years to get to know him and spend time with him, and Tanner didn't even get an hour. Now, he's not stupid, Tanner knows that he and Treech were never gonna be a thing because no shit, one of them is gonna have to die here, but it doesn't lessen the jealousy. It doesn't erase the what-ifs and the might-have-beens. And unlike Lamina, Tanner doesn't get to spend his last few days with someone he cares about. Brandy's gone and Treech is at the top of his alliance's blacklist. Whether he lives or dies, he'll have spent these days as good as alone.
The biggest difference between Tanner and Lamina that made TreeMina endgame instead of LumberHouse is that Tanner has a crush where Lamina is in love. One of the most painful things for Tanner is that he knows he could've loved Treech if he'd had the time, and maybe it could have been mutual, but they don't. Lamina did have that time, and over the years she and Treech fell in love far past a simple crush. Basically, Lamina is scared of losing what she has where Tanner laments what might have been if things were just a little different. Tanner doesn't actually know Treech, they've barely spoken to each other, and while he has a good grasp of who Treech is due to what he's seen so far, he's only seen bits and pieces of his person. Therefore, he can't really love Treech. He has a crush on him, and he loves the idea of Treech he has in his head based on what he's observed. How accurate that image of him is, is a whole different question. Lamina, meanwhile, has had years to get to know him. She and Treech have shared many vulnerable, personal moments together and their bond has grown incredibly strong over the years. Not even betrayal could fully break it. Lamina truly loves Treech, because she knows him better than anyone else. From his strengths to his biggest flaws, she's seen them all and she loves him for it.
Lamina gets to stay with Treech because she knows him in ways Tanner will never get the chance to, and he hates her for it.
#Please ask me questions about anything#especially my fics#I have so many thoughts and only two people in whose DM's I can go nuts#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#the hunger games#10th hunger games#hunger games#treech#treech tbosas#treech thg#tbosas treech#tbosas lamina#lamina#lamina thg#lamina tbosas#tanner tbosas#tanner deserved better#I'm not giving it to him#sorry#The Losing Battle (We Won't Stop Fighting)#analysis#character analysis#the ramblings of a madman#ramblings#this is not a fix it at ALL
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My Essay and Fic
I finished my my essay, EEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKK
It's like 3 am where I am, but I could sleep so instead I did my essay and now it is finished. YAYAYAYAY!!!!!!!!!!!1
A great weight has been lifted off my shoulders, I can go back to writing fanfiction now, hooray. After taking the weekend for a break cause words are starting to hurt my eyes (jk)
In celebration, I'm putting another already-written chapter here on Tumblr.
Chapter 3: Opportunity (Cresent's POV)
Summary:
Here's Cresent's POV of Chapter 2, also all chapters from here are set in the past until I say otherwise, so don't get all mixed up.
Notes:
I had no ideas for this chapter, so I wrote this. the songs for this chapter are Opportunity and Youngblood
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
I was out for my walk (just kidding I was going for a snack at the dining pavilion) when I suddenly heard a LOT of screaming coming from Half-blood Hill. So being the very sensible person I was. I went to check it out.
As I walked, a boy with curly red hair reached the top of the hill. He noticed Peleus, the dragon that guards the Golden Fleece and Thalia’s tree. The idiot didn’t notice a rock behind him as he backed away and came tumbling down the hill (it was hilarious and very hard not to laugh at).
At that point, I had reached the base of the hill, and he landed right in front of me, face first. When he looked up the first thing I noticed were his solid gold eyes. They had a confident shine in them, which was weird for a boy who just come rolling down a hill. His red hair fell on his face in a dorky, cute way, which I may or may not have smiled at. He had a few piercings on his ears and was wearing a black hoody with a star on the front.
It was very obvious that this guy was new, which was amazing cause I was new too, and was having trouble making friends (don’t tell Will though, I don’t want to bother him) I arrived a few weeks ago, and got claimed a while after that, a daughter of hades I was apparently. I had a whole cabin to myself, with not a single sign of anyone else.
I was also introverted and autistic, so human (or is it demigod) interactions didn’t come that easily to me. I wanted someone to hang out with and talk to, but getting out there was always so hard, especially after what happened last time. Anyways, the new guy started to get up but instantly fell back down. His ankle seemed to be broken, and we weren’t necessarily close to the infirmary.
So I decided that as my one good deed of the day, I used the nearest shadow to send him to the infirmary, causing me to be fatigued. I knew that Will would be in the infirmary and knew it was probably me who sent the new guy there, so I wasn’t that worried, also new guy would probably pass out, so no worrying about him panicking. I went back to my snack quest before heading to my cabin for a well-earned rest.
When I woke up from my quick nap, I found a kit Kat waiting for me on the nightstand, because Will knew me too well, and a glass of water. I took the food and headed out, wanting to check on my buddy in the infirmary.
I reached the infirmary and heard voices inside. “He’s awake, yes. Ok Cresent, you only have one shot of this. DON’T. MESS. UP” While I was giving my little motivation speech in my head, Will came over and opened the door, because only Will could have such bad timing. I tried to act like I was about to open the door on my own and walked through. “Ok, fingers crossed”
“Hey, I just wanted to check in on the new guy” I said trying to stay calm and collected.
“Hi, I’m over here, and I have a name, by the way.” So he thinks he’s funny. No problem, I can fix that.
“Ya, well I can’t exactly ask if the person is passed out, now can I.”
“Ok, I guess you’re right, I’m Quinn, Quinn Victory, and you?” Shocked Will didn’t mention me already but fine. “Also they have a really cool name”
“Cresent Solace, it’s nice to meet you. Now, if you’re feeling better, would you like a tour of camp?” “Smooth Cres, smooth”
“I’d love that, thanks” “Yesssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Quinn got out of his cot and followed me out of the infirmary. I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be.
I think this is one of my fav chapters, now here is my essay for any idiots who would want to read it
From Crisis to Clarity: How access to clean water improves lives.
Clean water is important for many things. It is a must for our survival, as it used in multiple aspects of our lives. We use it for keeping ourselves clean and healthy. While this is the case, a large population of people do not have access to clean water. A lot of people could be healthier and lead better lives with our help, and here is how.
How does clean water improve our lives?
Clean water has multiple benefits. It keeps us healthy and hydrated. Clean water keeps us clean as well. We use it to cook, clean ourselves and drinking. If we only had contaminated water, We would all be sick and obviously less capable to do different tasks.
Everyday, we use clean water to hydrate ourselves, making sure we can still commit to all our daily tasks with ease. We use it to cook food, to give us nutrition and energy for our bodies to use. We use it to wash ourselves, making sure we look and smell our best. Clean water is important for many reason, this just listing a few.
What about the rest?
Not everyone has access to clean water. Even though there is a large population that does have access, many people don’t and are at risk of getting diseases that could easily be avoided if they had clean water. Contaminated water collected form unsupervised wells, springs, lakes, ponds, etc., can cause great illness if not cleansed properly, which in most cases, is not.
In some cases, clean water is available, but not necessarily accessible. People have to travel far distances to collect the water, and then come back to their homes. This isn’t a sustainable way to live, going back and forth for such a basic necessity. According to the WHO, this happens “not only between rural and urban areas but also in towns and cities where people living in low-income, informal or illegal settlements usually have less access to improved sources of drinking-water than other residents.” leading to people searching for anything in the would suffice, even if it is unsanitary.
Some of these people don’t have as much of a choice as the rest of us. These people aren’t able to simple go to their kitchen and instantly get a cup of water, clean water. As many things are, it is more complicated than that. It is up to us to come up with ways to help there people attain the healthier live that the rest of us can already.
How can we help?
Water is a truly sacred thing. It should also be available and accessible to everyone. Some ways we can help other communities access clean water is donating into creating better water-cleaning facilities and educating these people on the better ways they can clean their water, so we can all be lovely and healthy.
Conclusion
In conclusion, clean water is a very important asset in our lives and it is upon us, the more fortunate people to share it with as many as we can. Water is crucial for our survival, and with our contributions and teachings, far more people will be able to access it. Everyone should be clean, it’s possible and with our help it will happen.
This is my longest post for sure, if you made it this far, here is a cookie 🍪🥠🏺
Tags for no reason: @permetutotheworld @fukurouonthesea
@massiveladycat @biggestqiblifan (i'm only sorry for this one cause you have exams, sorry babe)
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Infodump about the ideas for the highschool idol au
So. Character info.
Cross: His dad is the principal (but they aren't on such bad terms, they just don't get along the best), he lives on campus with Ink (this is kinda a private school situation, you live in the dorms, but the uniform isn't really enforced by anyone but the actual principal, and it's usually just a stern warning.) and he may have some gender dysphoria, because I enjoy jumping on the bandwagon of using Cross as a punching bag. He wears the uniform pretty consistently, with a gold locket under the tie. He does always insist on wearing red Chuck Taylors all the time, which is the only pop of color on him other than the red scar on his cheek he got from falling down a hill as a kid. He was forcibly added to the band as secondary vocals and drums
Killer: Chaotic, loud, and possessing some godforsaken mix between a Cockney and a Boston accent that sounds surprisingly good when used to sing, he's the epitome of everything Cross isn't. He enjoys ghibli movies, my melody, and cats, but also feels like a bolt of lightning. When he actually wears the uniform, it's usually with a signature studded leather jacket with pins in it. he never takes the jacket off. if he isn't wearing the school uniform, it's usually a shirt with Kel holding an orange joe or a cat hoodie under the jacket. His voice and outgoing nature got him the spot as the lead vocals and guitar.
Horror: He doesn't speak much, but when he does, it's slow, and full of thought. He likes to make food for people, and one of the first things he said to Dust was "Do you like pie." (much slower, but you get my point.) He never really wears the uniform, and everyone is fine with that, i don't think he's even met the principal. The best bear hugs in the school come from him. He plays bass.
Dust: He speaks snarkily to combat Killer, or to help Nightmare talk him out of a terrible plan to get that one guy finger drumming and mouthing the words to Fine to come and play. He wears the uniform sometimes, but always finds something to make it different, never removing his scarf.
Nightmare: He writes the lyrics to all the songs they sing, and drills everyone on the lyrics matching the beat exactly. EMO B- He always insists on visiting this one coffee shop, and always either wears casual wear or a full suit like
And high heels. He's hot and he knows it.
Error: Works on audio editing, and seems to be getting gradually more interested in theater. if you think he wears anything but his pajamas, you're wrong. Bro learned how to code a free no download version of FL studio, but won't do his math homework.
Ink: Ultimate art and theater kid, does everything, always covered in paint. how does he manage this. Pretty good grades, and he can sing well, but he usually keeps his singing to himself and this one guy who used to go to school with him.
Dream: Writes scripts, and plays smaller character parts, very gay for blue. That's all I can really say without having a whole ass essay.
Blue: Builds the sets for plays, and finds ways to get the school budget large enough to get all the materials for the plays.
Ccino(I'm just gonna refer to him as coffee guy until nightmare actually learns his name): works at the only good campus food store/cafe, and makes, and I quote "The only black coffee that you can actually enjoy"-Noot noot joku, 2023(/24, Idk when he'll say that.)
#highschool idol au#idol au#infodump#utmv#sans au#ink sans#error sans#nightmare sans#nightmare x his cup of coffee#dream sans#ccino sans#killer sans#horror sans#dust sans#blue sans#cross sans#xtale sans#sans aus#errorink#errink#criller#killer x cross#undertale au#dreamberry#horrordust#fluffynight
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Confession Talk! Manga Edition 2
It's been a bit, had work to deal with, but now I can sit down and write more about how Valentine's Day played out in Vol. 4. Again, if you haven't read it yet, I'll put my essay under a cut!
I talked about Kasuga's POV last time. Now it's time to look at it through Nomoto's!
As we know, Nomoto has realized her feelings and put it into words sooner than Kasuga. She has been falling head over heels for the woman every time they hang out but trying really hard not to show it out of fear of weirding Kasuga out and possibly lose their friendship. As we have learned in Vol. 2, friendships are REALLY important to Nomoto. She's basically lost all of hers over time and has been alone for a long time!
The fact that "But we're both girls!" is NOT a factor in her worries about confessing is an interesting one, but I get it. As a fellow demisexual, that never crossed into my mind when I had those crushes on my best friends growing up, or when I fell in love with my wife. My top worry was, if I were to say something about it, would I lose my friends? I already weirded out my bestie from high school by liking yuri, so I always kept it to myself. (I'm glad that Leigh confessed first, though, because by then I WAS too scared to reveal my intimate feelings)
Anyway, back to Nomoto. She was the one who initiated the Valentine's Day get-together back in Vol. 3, and she's both nervous but excited. She puts on a neat food idea with that hot plate fondue...
I like to point this tiny bit out. Nomoto loves her booze, but she knows if she were to have some today, something weird will happen, or she'll fall asleep, and she doesn't want that to happen. All that within that simple response, huh?
Anyway, the meal is amazing. They have a moment of coincidence, sparking a little heart fluttering...and a wish that maybe, just maybe, there really could be something more.
But oh. Something weird DOES happen. Kasuga announces she plans to move out of her apartment soon.
Nomoto's world starts crashing down. As she hears WHY Kasuga is moving, it makes sense to her, logically. And, out of her love for Kasuga, forget romance, forget attraction, out of her love for this woman, she wants to help her.
...well, maybe.
Nomoto is known to be a little selfish. She has a tendency to start enthusiastically taking over things or get chattery about her feelings. Things happened so suddenly, she was NOT expecting this outcome at all!
Kasuga moving away means she won't be nearby. She may not even be able to visit anymore. Just like that, she has lost her dearest friend, and it wasn't even due to her personal feelings. She's just...moving on, like all her previous friends did. Things are changing, for the worst, and she is scared.
Her emotions are running wild. Her logical side takes a backseat. It's there, but it no longer has control. Nomoto has one last hope here. If she doesn't get it out, she will regret everything in the future.
Nomoto is aware this was pretty much It. She was going to lose Kasuga with that move, anyway, but there was some hope that maybe, just maybe confessing may keep her here, close to her. If anything, her feelings are released, these feelings she had been bottling up for so long. If the worst-case scenario happened, she would be able to continue, maybe, but she'd be a much more somber woman afterward. At least she'd have Yako to talk to, right?
....Then we find out that Kasuga hadn't even finished her own comments from earlier. There was a part 2 to the whole thing! She wants Nomoto to room with her!
...OH! Nomoto, there you go yapping nervously and making mountains out of molehills! Hahaha, you can't even blame the alcohol on this one, this was all you! How their relationship will recover from this, she doesn't have a clue, but it SEEMS like it'll be okay, right??
But then...a double whammy?!
Kasuga says the feelings are mutual?! Can Nomoto's heart take all of this so fast?! She's been on an emotional roller coaster this whole time, I think she wants off now, to be honest!
What else is there to do, though?? Think, Nomoto, think!
Now, you would think, if this was a typical yuri, she would finally just get up and kiss Kasuga, huh? Well, this ISN'T your typical yuri. These ladies have grown up not really dealing with romantic relationships all their lives, not really caring about it, really. They are literal babies with 0 experience, so Nomoto does the one thing she can think of...
And it's reciprocated.
Congratulations, Nomoto. Your secret feelings no longer have to be secret. This journey you have gone through in the past few months has lead you to this. You not only have a girlfriend now, but the friendship is as strong as ever!
And omg, you actually held her HAND!! Pretty sure this was their first-ever moment of skinship!
#tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna#she loves to cook and she loves to eat#tsukutabe#essay#spoilers#nomoto is such a disaster (affectionate)
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What Failing NaNoWriMo Taught Me
This is a change in subject from the usual media posts, but I wanted to try and broad out the scope of my writing a bit.
If you are even remotely familiar with the online writing community, you will probably know what NaNoWriMo is. Every November, writers from all around the world scramble to start an all-new story and to finish that very story by the last day of the month. And, did I mention that this novel needs to be 50,000 words at the least?
Being the bored person I am, I decided to take a risk and try the challenge out. And thus, half my October was spent forming a new world with new characters and a unique plot. On November 1st, I gathered up my supplies, booted up my laptop and started the grand journey into the wild west that is NaNo season.
Obviously, if you read the title of this article, you would know how that went.
I wrote only approximately 29,000 words for my novel. That's it. Out of the 50,000 words I was planning on writing, I barely made it half-way through.
But yet, despite my technical failure, I don't think competing in NaNoWriMo was a complete waste. I learned quite a few lessons from the journey, both writing and non-writing related, and I'm here to share them with you.
Hydrate, hydrate, HYDRATE: Like many others, I have trouble keeping a consistent amount of water in my daily diet. Somedays, I'll hardly drink any at all and on others, chugging down is all that I'll do. A few years ago, my lack of hydration actually landed me in the ER on an IV. Most of the time, we are taught only to drink water to keep our bodies going. But, I learned that when I was sufficiently hydrated while writing, I could go on for much longer periods of time compared to when I was thirsty. As it turns out, drinking water and fluids can also have a positive impact on our brain function!
Create goals based off your personal style: I'm not too bad of a chronic procrastinator. Like all of us have, occasionally I'll put projects aside towards the last minute, but for the most part, I'm a pretty good worker. My problem is working consistently- I concentrate much better in controlled bursts of time than in a long session, but at the same time, I don't like leaving work unfinished. If I start a chapter, I'm going to finish it no matter what, for better or for worse. For NaNoWriMo, I decided to aim on finishing at least one chapter of my story per day. That way, I would have a manageable amount of work while still staying productive in the process.
At the same time, life is WAY more important than writing: Throughout November, Thanksgiving, school, and the start of the holidays in general impeded my ability to write as much as I could have. And that's okay! Writing is just one part of my life, not my entire well-being. I try to divide the different aspects of my life into certain 'parts,' from my academic part to my author part for tumblydovereviews. This helps me to throw away any worries I mayhave about another 'part,' and instead focus my whole self onto one part at a time.
Grow a closer bond with your characters: I loved my characters. I thought about them throughout the day and as I wrote. I came up with their favorite activities, movies, and foods, and imagined scenarios for them in my head. In a way, this made writing them easier as I knew more about how they would react and why.
And, if no matter what you try, you still fail NaNoWriMo...: That's okay! Remember, the entire point of this challenge is to have fun while also completing a story in the process. No matter what happens, I'm proud of you for trying. You're doing great!
Will I decide to complete NaNoWriMo again next year? It remains to be seen. But one thing remains clear: even through my failure, I still love to write. I still love to read. I still want to create stories and worlds and essays. And, nothing will stop me from doing that.
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Sleep Token Jericho – Analysis
“tread, ancient water salt”
The first word makes think about someone standing in front of a lake or something. Ancient water salt makes me think about alchemy. Alchemy can always be seen in two ways in a material one but also transformational processes within us.
“Alchemy is a multifaceted subject. It is an early form of chemical technology exploring the nature of substances. It is also a philosophy of the cosmos and of mankind's place in the scheme of things. Alchemy developed an amazing language of emblematic symbolism which it used to explore the world. It had a strong philosophical basis, and many alchemists incorporated religious metaphor and spiritual matters into their alchemical ideas.” (https://www.alchemywebsite.com/Introduction.html)
Salts from acids play an important role in alchemy and also alchemy can be seen as ancient knowledge. That's why I have this connected.
“like I, sink, down like precious stones”
Maybe he actually did use alchemical substances to try to achieve certain things? And these substances calmed him in some way?
I like the imagine of sinking down like a stone. Stones are heavy. When I meditate I often “sink” down in my chair. I really fell that I am grounding myself, establishing a connection to something that is deep within me.
Maybe that is what he means?
“until I wake I dine on old encounters”
Dine...who talks like that XD. All of these strange eating and biting allusions always me think about an ED. When you are so obsessed with what's going in your body, all of your “safe foods”....
Or maybe there was not enough provided by his parents? Either because of neglect or not having enough money? Idk...all of this sounds horribly and sad.
Maybe it brought him joy to meet Sleep? Maybe this helped him somehow?
The word wake is also interesting. Does he mean wake up? Because then it would feel like being awake and being asleep is reversed. Or does he mean a wake? Because he brings up the word “grave” later. Does this mean he dines on these encounters until he is dead because it's his wake?!
“you taste like new flesh”
I'm a vegetarian. Can I please have a vegetarian or vegan version?
I really don't know what to make of this. Did he meet something or someone new and he is really drawn towards them?
“say my name again”
Which one?! XD
Seems like he really meet someone or something new? Or maybe he likes the way his name is being said?
“fold, secrets in the sweat”
For some reason I have this connected to me waking up hungover. When you wake up like that and it feels like the alcohol is leaking through every pore on your body. It's just not nice.
I don't know what he means. Like is suggested many times did he do something to be close to Sleep? Since he kind of brings up alchemy maybe it was something like that? It makes me think about substances of some sort.
“Like I swallow, years beneath this bed”
Why beneath? And also why this bed? Somehow I connect this Vessel sitting on his desk and while writing the lyrics he looks over to his bed and is unsure how to continue and then inspiration hits him “beneath this bed”.
I could write a whole essay about the strange eating, biting, swallowing topics. Maybe he really took substances. Idk how else to explain it. And maybe “beneath” this bed because it gave him a sense of security?
“there's something in the way you lay enough to make the dead switch graves”
This is a funny one. How can someone who is dead switch a grave? Does he mean a dead switch? Or someone dead switching graves? What on earth can be so powerful that when it lays there that the dead switch graves. This part just makes me laugh because I have no idea what he means or how he means it.
“you take your leave”
Thank you for calling me out again. I know okay. It's part of my “testing”. If someone really wants to be with me they will still be there after I'm back from my leave. Idk...me just scratching my head and thinking “it's a BPD thing”.
Seems like Sleep or whoever he means liked to mess with him.
“my hands are not worthy”
Oh dear! I just feel this. I'm someone who is so convinced that I am an awful being and not worthy of anything positive. Deep-rooted childhood trauma.....well....
I really like Jericho because “you taste like new flesh” is such a strange line but it sounds so good when you sing/scream it out loud.
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Hello, it's a me...
Sorry for the recent lack of fic posts, I've been busy and exhausted. I was at my mom's for 10 days and I didn't really have any time to write, nor did I really have any ideas. I think I've got 7 WIPs in total atm, and I haven't really worked on any that are for this blog. I'm gonna try to work on them more now that I'm back at my apartment.
Venting below:
I never really sleep well at my mom's, and my two youngest siblings can be very tiring. They're very energetic and since I'm not there often, they like spending time with me. I don't always have the energy for them, but I force myself to be patient and play with them anyway. I was also left alone a few times with my youngest brother and sister, which I don't really like, because I don't know how to deal with them when they start fighting. It doesn't happen all that often, but when it does, it's not fun.
Also I had a remote psychiatrist (my nurse was also present) appointment on Wednesday and it was shit. I've had to change psychiatrists and stuff because I moved to a new city, and the new one was not very good. I wanted to talk about my fear of my relapsing with my depression, because there have been signs of that recently. I also wanted to tell them about the psychosis symptoms I've been having, because they've been more frequent lately, but guess what the psychiatrist decided to focus on? MY WEIGHT. Because that's definitely what I was there to talk about, for fuck's sake. When she started talking about that, I basically shut down and couldn't say any of the things I wanted to, because I got so upset.
I'm not saying I'm not fat, like I'm well aware I'm obese, and I need to lose weight, but that's really not what the topic was for that day. I was so fucking upset. I know I have a pretty unhealthy relationship with food, but my psychiatrist going from asking me about my meds to recommending me diets is not really going to help. She also said that I shouldn't go to a licensed dietitian, because "they don't really help" and she's not going to write me a referral to one. Needless to say, I didn't really like her after that, and I sent my nurse a little complaint after the appointment. (By little I mean I basically wrote her an essay lol.) I think I'm going to ask to switch psychiatrists, because I do not want to deal with that lady again.
I'm okay now, still kinda annoyed about the whole thing with the psychiatrist but eeeh, I'll live.
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Practical Jokes Aboard
On this April Fool's, I'm unpaywalling an old whaling history essay from my patreon about the various pranks fellows played upon each other. Here you are! Silliman B. Ives, a two-time veteran whaler aboard the Sunbeam in 1868, talked about the phenomenon of every ship having their ‘fool’ for entertainment.
“On board all ships carrying a large crew there is generally one among the company who by his awkwardness or want of sense becomes the butt for the whole crowd, the object of innumerable practical jokes, and a great source of amusement for the whole crew.”
The rest is under a readmore, since as usual there are many a' primary source.
On William B Whitecar’s 1850s voyage on an unnamed whaleship, that ship’s fool was a man whom he nicknamed Kedge Anchor. Kedge had drawn the attention of all hands for his boasting of seamanship and long experience on the waves, only for it to be revealed in short time through his own ignorance that he had no such experience at all.
“His sickness, and ludicrous exclamations of “I wish I was on the steam-wagon again” (he had formerly been a brakeman on the New York and Erie Railroad), and pathetic entreaties to be allowed to die in peace, when desired to do anything, excited the mirth of all, no sympathy being tendered to him except in one instance, when one of the seamen offered him a pint of salt water, assuring him it was a cordial; a mouthful was sufficient to undeceive him, he spat out the nauseating draught, and the queer expression he wore on his phiz, and no less queer entreaty to take the darned thing away, were so humorous as to shock his auditors into merriment, and secured him against farther molestation.”
Seasick greenhands were often the easiest targets on the first days out. In one humorous exchange recorded by Charles B. Nordhoff on an unnamed 1850s voyage, a sick greenhand lamented the ship's food not agreeing with him. He went on to say that if he could only have a nice piece of pie like his mother used to make he’d be well again soon enough.
“Pie!” exclaimed the boatsteerer, “as I live, I am glad you mentioned the word. There’s a whole cask of pies down below, which was sent aboard by the owner, on the purpose for the sick ones.” “Suppose I were to ask the captain to hoist it up, and give me some?” suggested the sick man, eagerly. “You could not do a better thing.” “I’ll go to him immediately—he seems to be a kind man, and I will tell him how badly I feel.” Accordingly he dragged himself slowly aft, and there meeting the captain, stated the case to him, and ended with a request that some of the pie might be given to him, as he felt convinced that he would soon recover on such a diet. The captain, smiling grimly, explained to him that some unfeeling wretch had been trifling with him, and that pie was an impossibility at sea.”
A lack of knowledge about how the ship worked led to many a greenhand being advised by another crewmate to make such absurd requests like climbing up to the man at the mast head to ask what time it was, or to go to the mate and tell him to ‘secure the barometer’ and ‘ask him if the masts were working’. It wasn't just seasick greenhands, however. Any man could find himself fair game, especially those who fell asleep during their watch. One of the most popular pranks involved tying a line around a man’s legs while he was sleeping, and then working together to haul him up into the air. William Abbe once found himself at the rope end of this. He was a Harvard law student who had signed on the whaler Atkins Adams in 1858 ‘for his health’, and at times due to his education tutored other men on board in writing and reading. He showed a great allegiance to the after cabin, including a particular noted favoritism from the Captain’s wife, and could get quite self righteous about the behavior of his shipmates. This didn’t always endear him to his fellow foremast hands.
“That night I laid down for a little while on my chest during my watch on deck + Shanghai making the fore lift fast about my legs, the rest of the watch bowled away till I brot up against the steps, taking in my passage hither an alarmingly sharp cut + twirling around in a way that would have immortalized a circus tumbler. Shang—the rogue—pretending ignorance + when I went on deck all hands were cooly singing — “Bully in the Alley” — + as innocent as so many sucking pigs—I couldn’t help laughing, though at first I was slightually mad. I am now waiting a chance to make S fast. Such tricks are common + all make common sport of each other.”
J.E. Haviland, greenhand aboard the Baltic in 1855, enjoyed partaking in this prank every chance he got, after having it done once to himself:
"After a great deal of trouble [I] finally succeeded in getting it made fast around one of his feet. I then went carefully up on deck where the other end of the rope was + 6 of us got hold of it and gave poor Matt what I call an after haul. To use his own words however he did not wake up until he felt himself strike the Deck right plump on his setdown. In trying to haul him up through the scuttle by his leg he got fast in the steps + then for the first time commenced to sing out bloody murder. After he got on his togging + came on Deck I commenced consoling him + he laid it to everybody else but me. This makes five times I have bent on him + I am the last person he suspects of doing such a deed."
Sometimes the pranks were a little more visually lasting, as Whitecar highlighted another joke set upon Mr. Kedge Anchor.
“One fine Sunday morning Kedge Anchor expressed a desire to have his hair cut. Here was an opening—and a conspiracy was immediately formed against his cranial adornment. One went to work and cut his hair. When finished, a dozen voices exclaimed against the barbarian who had put so outre a cut on his poor head; others recommended a little more off behind. The victim acquiesced, and submitted to the operation. A second, third, fourth, and fifth lent their aid in denuding his skull, and by the time the last had finished he was a picture for a painter.”
The captain often didn’t bother to step in to put a stop to such tricks, having other things to concern himself with than the antics of the fo'c'sle. Albert Peck, on board the Covington in the 1850s, described what happened when a whaler, nicknamed Duff, made his complaint to the captain about being the object of a prank.
“Speaking of duff reminds me of another little incident which transpired a little while before. One evening as Duff (not the cook’s duff but our Duff) was lying on the fore hatch enjoying an evening nap, some mischievous chap smeared his hair and face with tar. A short time afterwards, waking up and finding it out, he at first tried to find the author of it and failing in this he posted aft to where the captain and mate was sitting and began to make his complaint to the captain that some one had been tarring him. "What did you let them for?” “I didn’t know it, sir.” “You were asleep, then. They wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t been. Keep awake and you won’t get tarred. Clear out and don’t you come to me with any more of your complaints.” He could get no satisfaction either forward or after, and was forced to swallow it down, vowing that if he ever found out who it was he would serve them the same.”
Often times payback was handled internally in the fo'c'sle, usually with a deliverance of the same prank upon the culprit. From Whitecar,
“I remember one poor fellow, who prided himself much on his agility, giving us a specimen of the movements of the kangaroo, sweating and exerting himself for a whole afternoon, delighting us, as he supposed, with his farcical antics, until he discovered on his back a large paper figure in imitation of himself. He said not a word at the time, and sat down totally abashed; but ere long a paper Punch figured on the back of the supposed instigator.”
"We are constantly abusing each other in fun," William Abbe cheerfully recorded. Among such abuses:
"I have known Shanghai when on deck in his wilfull, mean spirit of mischief + coarse trickery - go to the forecastle hatch and pointing his breech down the gangway discharge such a tearing report that the sleepers have actually startled in their bunks."
“After sunset often all hands play “Whang O Doodle” round the windlass, or chasing each other and spanking—fast + terrible are some of the blows — and we are kept in a roar of laughter at the contorted faces and the rubbing with hands of the wounded parts.”
Regardless of how the decades stretch away from the height of American whaling to our present, the phenomenon of...a bunch of late-teens-to-early-twenties lads spending the dull periods of their voyage farting on each other and running around slapping each other's ass is Truly Enduring.
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