#people love raw capitalism.

[theminecraftbee]

today on hermitcraft: joe attempts to help oli understand the economy!

[fricc-darn]

This post is just gonna be me spitballing and yapping fr😭 If any of you guys catch my drift pls lemme know :"D

This isn't supposed to be a doomer post (cuz I don't like doomerism) BUT it may come off that way sooo yeah-

Looking back to when I was like a young kid, I was always so fascinated with the internet and fandom spaces especially! I do think the early 2000s and like early to mid 2010s of the net and online spaces where so whimsical. Esp as a kid from my background and what not. I thought it was cool to see people be authentic and sort of free in a way online? Obviously not to a crazy extent but much more than irl and stuff.

And I would read fandom posts and enjoy all the yummy content. At the time I couldn't really read very well (cuz like yk kids really can't read-) but I KNEW I wanted to be in fandom actively SAUUURRR BAD!! I looked forward to it. Despite the horrors of it all! Despite my ass lacking some social skills online as well (telling tone and vibes is kinda hard over text).

Now I got what I want (hurray :3!). Though sometimes I can't help but wonder if I belived in a fantasy. It feels diffrent than I expected? I wonder if it's because I'm not very active or talkative? Sometimes it still feels a bit lonesome? (IF ANYONE GETS THIS FEELING AS WELL P L E A SE TELL ME😭)

Then I really start to wonder. I'm soon reminded that no I didn't make up a fantasy of what being online would be. This is how it was to some degree! Yes, there menaces still existed, along with bigots (Racism and shit was DEF more...obvious? I don't like saying that either because it still is so easy to find). But when it came to just being chill and talking it was different. I just can't explain it. I feel like now people are a bit more antsy and upset :(. People argue about shit that genuinely doesn't matter. Or they ignore real problems in fandom (racism and bigotry again). Or the refusal to understand others and their exprinces, and genuinely try to relax.

And of course this ties into a greater social issues because none of these things exsist in a vacuum. A lot of negativity, moral superiority, hatred, and hypocrisy is a relection of how things have changed. It's a result of people being calcified by the systems at play. Everyone is struggling and things are actively deteriorating (not to be an alarmist). But look at how everything is fucking monetized or a commodity! Look at all the apps and sites everything is becoming centralized man. What about the people?

Kids don't have 3rd spaces, the myth of the digital native is RAMPANT, they're not being taught useful internet skills, they're not being taught basic literary skills. They don't even know where to get resources to start learning. This doesn't even include it all! So, where do they have to go? Now many of them are in spaces where they shouldn't be and talking about stuff they shouldn't be worried about at all. Stuff that most people shouldn't care about.

Same with older folk some people don't have those skills either. This plus adult responsibilities and ughh. No wonder why people act so nasty online sometimes. It's a sense of trying to have a little control in this life. A sense of venting. Or even an attempt at trying to build a better world (admirable yes but the way some people go about this is so backwards and not helpful).

This capitalist hellscape is ruining every single aspect of our lives. And I know what I'm saying isn't new. Everyone knows this. Everyone sees this. But it makes me wonder do people really care about eachother online? Do people really care about eachother at all? I know the answer is yes and I've seen some amazing things. Though sometimes it doesn't feel real?

How do people claim to care about disabled people and be all left leaning and not wear a mask or take proper covid precautions? Or constantly leave us out of discussions?

How do people claim to claim to support marginalized people and victims but also partake in hate bandwagons or other acts that can put them at risk of being hurt irl?

How do people claim to be pro mental health and still do the other things I mentioned. Or again disregarding the exprince of others and how it can affect them in more ways than one?

Who does benefit? This just isolates us further and it really benefits big corps in the end. Eating each other alive to make their jobs easier.

This whole thing reminds me why I joined tumblr. Like the vibe on here is different. Much better than other apps where you essentially become a brand instead of a person. Tumblr has weird mfs and I fw that hard.

I miss when people were freely weird and cringe. I miss when social media wasn't a fucking panopticon. I miss miss an old internet that we will never get back. And it makes me worry for the future of everything. Give people grace PLEASE😭!

I want people to be as authentic as they can be 😩 and that's why I'm yapping.

[our-inspire-verse]

Dangg who got you squeaking and chirping affectionately like that!?

Wouldn't you like to know weather boy

[hiwaga-fucks-up]

it's that time of the year :'D

[endreal]

I know that—objectively—this is bullshit, but I have chosen to believe that the reason the US hasn't formally changed to the metric system is for the poets. When the going gets tough you can still claw your way forward inch by inch, but centimeter by centimeter just doesn't quite carry you. You're in love/excited/nervous/scared and your heart is beating a hundred miles per hour, whoa that sounds fast and dangerous! But a hundred kph? I've been passed by people going faster than that coming out of downtown on capital boulevard. The pound of flesh they take from you is raw and bloody and full of pain, the kilogram of flesh is impersonal and excised in laboratory conditions under strict observation. Liters are okay tho, if only because they sound like meter and a meter is used to measure things, so the measure of a man can be siphoned (as a byproduct of the kilogram) into a bottle with a screw cap lid and stored in a dark cool room until he is found wanting. A gallon would be wasteful, a quart too unserious, and a cup not enough to keep him from withering in the desert sands under 100 degree faeghreignheit sun. ...Okay maybe celsius gets a pass too.

[ursie]

Brennan’s statement on Palestine :

[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:

"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I heard a raw line from Guilllermo Del Toro the other day about monsters being the perfect way to express human failure:

“…monsters, I believe, are patron saints of our blissful imperfection, and they allow and embody the possibility of failing.”

And i was wondering your take on this quote in relation to things like vampire and werewolf and other semi-monster subtexts. “Monstrous” humans that are ironically allowed to act more human more often than… humans. I just find the attempt to make an outlet for imperfection while still at large criticizing it fascinating.

I mean, yeah, there's a long history of interpreting monsters through queer, anti-colonial, feminist and other Outsider lenses for exactly those reasons. The monster is the Other who is vilified by the in-group, which represents all that the in-group hates. The monster must, by its nature, fail to live up to the standards and expectations of the in-group, which is why it must be destroyed. But that also means the monster is free from the standards and expectations of the in-group, including oppressive and bigoted ones.

So, as an example, if you're queer, and rhetorically treated as inhuman and monstrous and diseased anyway, or eugenically classified as a deviant mutation or sub-derivation of "real" people, there is real appeal and a real sense of resistance in claiming monsterhood, in embracing it and glorying in it.

In part, that's what the rallying cry "we're here, we're queer, get used to it!" meant and still means. It is a reclaiming of monsterhood as a source of strength and community and pride, rather than shame. Slurs are used to Other queer people, to set them apart from "real" people and mark them out as a monstrous deviation from the virtuous norm - slurs are used to call us monsters. And thus a lot of queer people find a lot of power and freedom in reclaiming them, in turning their Othering into a flag to rally around.

And I think that's still a big part of the appeal of the monster, honestly, that freedom from being what someone else thinks you ought to be.

If you're a monster, you don't have to have the perfect body, you don't have to suppress your lust or your love. You don't have to shave your body hair or dress correctly for your assigned gender, or have a white picket fence house with a spouse and 2.3 children. You don't have to sit primly at the dinner table, you don't have to repress your emotions, you don't have to hate the foreigner or despise the gays or fear the trans agenda. You don't have to have a small, straight nose or perfect cheekbones, you don't have to wait to fuck until you're married, or pretend you want to fuck at all. You don't have to want to get rich or be a CEO, you don't have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps or be on your grindset, or cheer when the cops clear out a homeless camp.

To be a monster is to be free from the inhumanity that is forced on us by white supremacy, by fatphobia, by heteronormativity, by imperialism, and by the interests of capital. To be a monster is to be human in all the ways that are inconvenient to oppression.

... but I went off on a tangent there a little bit - vampires and werewolves, right. I have no theoretical or academic basis for any of this, so this is entirely a personal hot take, but I think vampires are perhaps a bit more about "passing" as a fantasy. Not necessarily in a gender sense, but the ability to keep your true nature undetected by the "normal" folk, while the secret things that make you different also make you dangerous and powerful. Surviving by stealing sustenance from a world that hates you, on terms that are entirely yours to dictate. "I will survive even if it kills you," that kind of vibe.

Werewolves, on the other hand, feel more like a defiant, angry embrace of the monstrous. Transforming into something vast and powerful and furious, growing out of your skin, out of your form, out of your boundaries; howling your nature to the moon and mauling any motherfucker who has a problem with it. Giving in to all the beastly unnatural urges, and diving into the horrible monstrous wants and desires that boil inside you (which, remember, include things like Not Wanting To Fuck or Wanting To Hold A Girl's Hand In A Lesbian Sort Of Way). Less the "I outfoxed your social game and drank you dry" slick vampire power fantasy and more the "call me a slur one more time and I'm going to wear your entrails like a fucking scarf" power fantasy.

Again, that's just personal hot takes, everyone's understanding of the monstrous in relation to themselves is different. I've seen a number of genderfluid and nb people use monstrousness as a way to defy occupying a shape that can be gendered for example.

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

The State Birds Initiative: New Jersey (#3)

Welcome to the third official poll of the State Birds Initiative! Before the poll, though, one thing real quick. My suggestion is that you read the post below before voting in the poll below. That's especially important if you're lacking any context about the birds being presented as the new (or old) State Bird of the Garden State, New Jersey. This is to be fully informed as to why these are being presented, and to make your choices appropriately. Lastly, some of these birds, you will notice, may go against some of the rules listed in the introduction post. All is explained after the jump where the explanations are, I promise you that. But with that...OK! Here's the poll! If you'd like to see the last post, check out Pennsylvania (Poll | Results)

So, with that done...New Jersey.

OK, I'll be honest, I have very little history with New Jersey. Only been there a few times, I've driven through it a decent number of times, and I mostly know it by reputation. But, uh...for whatever reason, every trip I take that requires me to go through New Jersey, NJ is the worst driving portion of that trip. Basically every time. Maybe that's a New Jersey turnpike problem, maybe that's unhappy coincidence. Hell, maybe it's conservation bias from being a New Yorker (upstate, but I've gone to the city regularly throughout my life). Or maybe it really is cultural reputation for New Jersey trickling in to my subconscious (looking at you, Jersey Shore). But either way...I have complicated feelings about New Jersey.

But this post is NOT about my personal geographic experience. Mostly. It's about birds! So, let's get into New Jersey objectively. Third state admitted into the union, state capital is Trenton, largest city is Newark, and it's the most densely populated state in the country. Famous for being the origin of electricity in civic infrastructure, as well as the home of their favorite son, Thomas Alva Edison. Which...when you learn more about the guy, makes you wonder about New Jersey as a whole. MOVING ON! It was a major staging point in the American Revolutionary War, and ever since, it's been all about freedom. Even though you can't pump your own gas there. Although, to their credit, the Statue of Liberty is actually technically in New Jersey waters. Yeah. That's absolutely true. But, like...it's spiritually a New York landmark, so we'll let it slide.

Now, here's the thing about New Jersey, seriously and truly. It has a bad reputation because of media and New York City. This is for two more specific reasons, from what I can tell. One, the New Jersey Turnpike sucks, and it smells like raw sewage due to its proximity to industrial factories and processing plants. And unfortunate way to experience the state, and the main way I've experienced New Jersey personally. So, that's one, and it's not indicative of the state's quality. Number two is simply the fact that it's a hub for commuters, with lots of people going to either NYC or Philadelphia for work. Because of that, Jersey itself gets pieces of their cultures combined, which also makes it a very easy target with a unique accent. So, not Jersey's fault.

In reality, it's quite a nice state with more natural area than you'd expect for somewhere so densely populated. New Jerseyans, unsurprisingly love their state...and aren't big fans of tourists, from discourse I see online. It's a small state, which makes it crowded enough. Plus, there are tourist attractions there. There's the massive American Dream Meadowlands mall, there's MetLife Stadium, there's Six Flags Great Adventure, there's...Trenton. Actually, no, Trenton sucks, I stand by that assessment. But it's also a highly diverse state, with the highest proportion of Hinduism followers in the country, as well as the densest collection of LGBTQ+ social centers (AKA gayborhoods), amongst other things. NJ does deserve more credit.

Now with that said, let's talk about the natural world of New Jersey, because there is a surprising amount to talk about. 45% of the land is covered in mixed deciduous-coniferous forest, which you've probably noticed is typical of the NE USA. Oak is our primary tree here, which is also probably why Northern Red Oak (Quercus rubra) is the state tree. It also has some major ecological features that are well known for its natural advantages. Cape May is a seaside city and vacation resort, but also one of the most well-known and important sites for birders from the United States during migration seasons, making it immediately prominent for this post. Great Swamp NWR in the north is the first wilderness area ever designated by Congress, and also serves as a major refuge for birds during the breeding season for various reasons. And maybe most importantly, the New Jersey Pine Barrens are the largest remaining pine barrens in the NE USA, and act as a bastion of diversity. More on this later, I promise; there's a species entry dedicated to this unique environment.

And that's not all to talk about here. NJ's environment needs some focus for a number of reasons, not least of which being that the state has more toxic waste dump sites than any other state in the Union, which are the focus of the federal Superfund environmental remediation program. Yeah, there's some cleanup that needs to happen in the state, especially as it is so small. Of 150 federally listed sites, only 35 have been cleaned up since the 1970s. So, yeah. We should get on that, please. But with that said, NJ has relatively low carbon dioxide emissions compared to other states, they're seventh in solar power, and get most of their electricity from natural gas and nuclear power. So, it's a greenish state that could be a lot greener.

There's a lot to talk about for such a small state, it would seem. Let's not linger about, and let's get on with the show here! I'm honestly kind of excited. Birds after the jump!!!

American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis)

Let's kick things off by talking about the incumbent, the American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis). Now, why was the American Goldfinch chosen as the State Bird of New Jersey in 1935? Easy answer: favoritism. The bird was nominated as the only candidate by the New Jersey Audubon Society because...it was their mascot at the time. Yeah. That's it. In reality, the New Jersey State Bird is the New Jersey Audubon Society. And even then, it's officially lost its relevancy, because that's not their mascot anymore. More on that later.

What's actually worse about the goldfinch here is...for some reason, not a lot of New Jerseyans have actually seen them. Part of the reason for this entire series, by the way is this Reddit post, which stoked the fires that had long been simmering deep within my soul. OK, not that deep, but still. Anyway, the header of that post is that the OP had barely ever seen an American Goldfinch, despite being a native. I thought that was insane (and said as much in my comments), because this is a ridiculously common bird, especially for birdwatchers. But, uh...I've looked into since then. And only 0.4% of its global breeding population resides in the state. What's crazy is, this is a common sentiment amongst New Jerseyans. They just...haven't seen this bird. And obviously, that/s not every new Jerseyan, and a lot have reported seeing it. But to be honest...is this bird really worth being called the State Bird of New Jersey?

OK, can we make the American Goldfinch make sense in retrospect? Let's see, they're a highly social finch species throughout the year, living in dense colonies in the spring and summer especially. The males are late breeders with ornate flying displays meant to attract females, and may group territories with other males to defend against predators. And they're an open secondary growth forest specialist that live in the state year-round, including during the breeding season. Which means...well, actually, it means that they're perfectly suited to live in New Jersey, funnily enough.

Hear me out here. There are two things that goldfinches love most: forest clearings and weeds. New Jersey may be 45% covered in forest, but it does have deforestation as a minor problem around its settlements. However, that's not a problem for the goldfinch, who thrives in secondary growth forests that occur as a result of succession. Given an attempt in recent decades to recover New Jersey's forests, this means the goldfinch is a potential symbol of these efforts. Plus, its love of the seeds that come from flowers that are pest plants, like dandelion, thistle, ragweed, and cosmos, make it a potentially attractive bird for gardeners of the state to attract, especially as those plants thrive in open fields during stages of succession!

...YES I'M STRETCHING MORE THAN AN AUSTRALIAN BREAKDANCER WITH A DOCTORATE TRYING TO MAKE A POINT, BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS MASCOT OF AN ORGANIZATION NAMED AFTER A SLAVE-OWNER???

So...moving on.

Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans)

While the majority of natural New Jersey is covered in forest, it still has a fairly important habitat in the form of the saltmarsh. Just to get the definition in place early, a saltmarsh is essentially what it sounds like: a vegetation-dominated coastal biome with salt and brackish water, salt-tolerant grasses and plants, and the animals that depend on such. They're coastline preservers, trapping and binding sediment as it makes its way to and from the ocean, and acting as a major supply for the food web along the coasts. They're incredibly important habitats, and this will not be (and have not been) the last time you've seen them during the State Birds Initiative.

Now, obviously, these habitats are chockful of birds. New Jersey has a few major salt flats along its coast, all of which shelter some major breeding populations of birds. One of these species is the Clapper Rail (Rallus crepitans), which is our eBird-sponsored pick of this poll. Clapper Rails have 13% of their global population in New Jersey saltmarshes, meaning they're quite dependent on this unique habitat, and most of their population breeds in the state. Some people may never have seen or heard of a rail, but in case you're one of those people, just know that they're a smaller semi-aquatic relative of cranes. If you've seen a coot, moorhen, or gallinule, then you've seen a rail! And the Clapper Rail is a crustacean-eating, saltmarsh-loving, new Jersey-dependent example. And that said...it is kinda boring looking to the average person.

Don't take me wrong! For me, this bird is fantastic, and would actually be a lifer for me, personally. But the average non-birder? Look, in instances like this, I usually tap into the part of my brain my fiancee lives in rent-free, and all I can hear is her shouting "LONG DUCK LONG DUCK" over and over. I love these guys, but I'm not sure they'd resonate with the public. Plus, as far as saltmarshes go, these are good representatives, but I'm not sure they're the best. Are these a good New Jersey representative? Possibly, since they represent a major ecosystem in the state, and that is important. But I'll leave that question to you all. Moving on!

Cape May Warbler (Setophaga tigrina)

OK, onto the category of birds that are named after the state, and New Jersey has one of those! The Cape May Warbler (Setophaga tigrina) is so-named because the first specimen described by Alexander Wilson was collected in Cape May, New Jersey by George Ord. That said, it's certainly a unique warbler, easily recognizable, and dependent upon conifer forests dominated by spruce, which the Pine Barrens are...not. Still, an iconic bird in New Jersey! Except...wait, hold on...ah. It doesn't breed in the state. In fact, after it was described from a Cape May specimen, it wasn't seen in the area again for...a century. So...yeah, it's named after a major location in the state, known for birds at that, and yet it's barely found there?Love this bird, but...maybe think about renaming it one of these days.

Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus)

Now, the Pine Warbler (Setophaga pinus), on the other hand, that's a better warbler representative of New Jersey. Well, sort of. To be fair, the Pine Warbler only has 1% of its global breeding population in New Jersey, so the state isn't a bastion or reservoir for the species. However, there is a major reservoir of the species in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, which I'd mentioned earlier. And hey, Pine Barrens, Pine Warbler...slam dunk for representation of the habitat right there. And yeah, that's absolutely relevant to the species as a whole. They live, eat, and breed in pine-dominated forests, exactly like (and including) the Pine Barrens. It's actually listed as a "Significant Congregation" species by the New Jersey Audubon Society.

And as for making a good State Bird of New Jersey? It's a notable bird, even keeping the goldfinch's yellow with white wing bars. It's not terribly difficult to find, especially during the breeding season in areas like the Pine Barrens. And hey, they're even well-known to live with other species, making them an important biodiversity indicator for conservation purposes. Plus, if people go out to look for the Pine Warbler in the wild, they'll likely encounter other species like the Blackburnian Warbler (Setophaga fusca) or the Tennessee Warbler (Leiothlypis peregrina), amongst others. Fostering interest in birdwatching by chance! It works in a conservation sense...but I don't know that it's particularly emblematic of New Jersey, to be fair.

Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)

Now, here's an interesting choice! If the current State Bird, the American Goldfinch, was chosen because it was the mascot for the New Jersey Audubon Society at the time, then by that logic, their current mascot should actually be the State Bird of New Jersey. And so, in that case, may I present to you the current mascot of the NJ Audubon Scoiety, and the next candidate for State Bird...the...is that a Northern Harrier (Circus hudsonicus)? Yeah, looks like it, and some sources I have confirm that's the case. But, uh...why?

Let me be really clear about something first off: I adore the Northern Harrier. Also caleld the marsh hawk, they're a beautiful raptor native to brackish and salt mashes, as well as grasslands and fields, hunting small mammals, insects, and the occasional bird. They're one of the few accipiters that are silent fliers, ambushing prey from above like owls. They even have the disc-like face. They're one of the new North American raptors with sexual dimorphism (the smoky gray male is pictured above, as compared to the brown females), and their iconic coloration has given them the nickname of the Gray Ghost. WHICH IS BADASS. They're also one of the only polygynous raptors, meaning a male can mate with several females in a given season, nesting on the ground and hatching chicks. Because of their unique relationships, some indigenous peoples see them as a symbol of healthy marriage. Finally, these are considered good for agriculture, as they eat rodents and not chicken. I love harriers, they're super neat birds, and it's always a pleasure to see them in the wild. Also, they DROWN THEIR PREY!!! What the hell! That's terrifying!

OK, harriers are cool, but do they have a relevance to New Jersey outside of being the logo of New jersey Audubon? Well...they do breed there...barely. But they've been observed doing so, so that counts. They represent key habitats in the state of New Jersey, so that's great. Their certainly charismatic enough (GRAY GHOST), and they've got nationwide conservation concern as an endangered species. So, it has those qualities going for it as the State Bird candidate. We'll see what the poll says. In the meantime, let's move on!

Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla)

Y'know, my original plan was to put the Ring-billed Gull (Larus delawarensis) in this list as well...and then, I stumbled upon a fun fact. The black-headed cousin of the Ring-billed Gull, and Laughing Gull, is a regular traveler to New Jersey, and in fact has a colony right off of the Jersey Shore, making them a fairly well-known and recognizable resident of an iconic area of the state. But pretty importantly, the species has a pretty massive breeding population in New Jersey. 5% of the breeding population of the species are in southern NJ, which isn’t the bulwark of their breeding population in the USA (that'd be Louisiana, according the eBird Status and Trends), but it's still a significant portion.

That said, the Laughing Gull is a recognizable member of the New Jersey shore community, and I mean the term "community" in multiple contexts. Ecologically, they're omnivorous scavengers that are well-adapted to living in a densely populated state, as well as in saltmarshes and other coastal environments throughout New Jersey. Sociologically, they hang around human settlements so much that they see opportunities in human hands...literally. The Laughing Gulls of the Jersey Shore are pretty notorious for stealing food out of the hands of beachgoers and boardwalk visitors. There are even boardwalk restaurants with signs saying they won't offer refunds if your food is stolen by a gull. They're SO notorious, in fact, that falconers have been hired to use their falcons to drive away these birds. And honestly...that's a shame. After all, the Laughing Gulls are such prominent citizens that humans have had to adjust to them.

But that said...I'm gonna quote Brian Donahue, the reporter at the end of the video/new report I linked to above...because it's hilarious, and it makes an interesting statement that I think people from New Jersey should think about. Read the quote, but trust that I have a somewhat well-thought out idea supporting it.

Derided as "flying rats" by many, I think it's time to reconsider the Laughing Gull, because if things haters say about Laughing Gulls (they're loud, feisty, there's too many of them... (Interviewee Kathy McCarey): They're rude...they're very demanding...and they come for what they want...I don't like 'em.) ...are the same things haters often say about New Jerseyans. Laughing Gulls are us. They deserve more respect.

Look, as extremely funny as that point is...there's a point about that statement. That is something that people say about New Jerseyans! They live in a state full of garbage, they're obnoxious and loud, all of that kinds thing. And New Jerseyans love their state as much as anybody else; SO MUCH, in fact, that many people online say they actually love that stereotype, because it means that people STAY OUT OF THEIR STATE. Funny or not, true or not...there's a point there. Laughing Gulls, as with all gulls, have a bad reputation, which is mostly undeserved. They're opportunists trying to feed themselves and their young, who see a smorgasbord of food right in front of them, in their neighborhood! In their place, what would YOU do? Honestly, these guys are a solid contender for that reason alone.

Plus, honestly...it's kinda funny.

Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta)

Finally, let's look at the conservation focus for this post: the Saltmarsh Sparrow (Ammospiza caudacuta). So, this is a pretty big one, especially when looking at New Jersey. A full 32% of the species' global population breeds in this state, which is, frankly, a MASSIVE proportion of any species. What's more, they're considered an endangered species, which immediately makes this an impressive contender for the State Bird of New Jersey. And as one of the most endangered species in the Eastern USA, not to mention a species of immense scientific interest for ecological and genomic reasons, this bird should get some attention by the public and federal government.

However...and this is a point to be made here...it's not exactly the most iconic bird for non-birders. As a birder who would kill to get this on his lifelist (I AM WORKING ON IT, LITERALLY TOMORROW AS I AM TYPING THIS), this is a prominent bird within certain communities. And to others? Ugh, this is gonna hurt me to say, you have no idea, but...it's a sparrow. It may be a little harder for people to become attached to a sparrow, and even more difficult for people to recognize the Saltmarsh Sparrow specifically.

Don't believe that this matters? Do me a favor, bird people. Show your non-bird friends Bird A, Bird B, and Bird C. Ask them how many different species you showed them. I'm willing to bet the especially observant will say 2. The less observant are gonna say 1. And throw in these top two pictures, while you're at it. I'm willing to bet you'll still get a 2 or 3. Because, unfortunately, to many people, sparrows all look pretty similar. And going forward, that's something we'll have to keep in mind: a unique appearance. What makes a bird iconic is also in its uniqueness and identifiability. And sure, maybe I'm not giving the average person enough credit, but we're also talking about children. I've said it before and I'll say it many times over: kids are important targets to consider when choosing natural State Symbols. And I really don't know how many adults could tell the difference between some sparrows, even professionals. And, uh...the Saltmarsh Sparrow is a very important example of this, because it wasn't even a species until the '90s.

Oh, and kudos to those of you who caught on immediately to my little trick up there. Probably a good amount of you noticed it, but if you didn't...there are five species of sparrows shown in this post. The two birds pictured in the post? Different species. Yeah, hearing that now makes that more obvious, but you may not have noticed it immediately. The first bird pictured is indeed the Saltmarsh Sparrow. The second bird, however, is the Nelson's Sparrow (Ammospiza nelsoni), which was once considered the same species as the Saltmarsh Sparrow. Dirty question, I know, but it's also found in New Jersey. Not a breeder there, but it's enough to cause a bit of confusion. See what I mean?

Oh, as for the rest, Bird A is LeConte's Sparrow (Ammospiza leconteii), Bird B is a Savannah Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis), and Bird C is a Grasshopper Sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum).

Please understand, bird-peeps: I hate making this argument. Genuinely. The New World sparrows are a wonderful group, and a really fun one to play around with and hunt down as a birder. And don't worry, sparrows will be getting a mention in my personal list. But as for the State Bird? I'll let you all decide.

And with that, that's the end of this post! I miss any big ones? Make any leaps a bit too big? Feel free to let me know! In the meantime, stay tuned for State #4 - Georgia! Wait...wait, the fourth state to be admitted into the Union was Georgia? Huh. Go figure.

See you next time, and happy birding!

[actionappreciator]

Monkey Man is so good you guys. It's a movie about how vengeance and justice and how often those concepts are intertwined, it's about living for a purpose rather than living to feel something, it's about how the police and religious leaders are extensions of capitalism, how many people find comfort and purpose in religion, it's about the raw animal pleasure of violence, it's about remembering your roots, it's about burning, it's about how the disenfranchised need to stick together to make change in the world, it's about how coming to a full understanding of your own self and your own gender makes you a better, greater person, and it's about how your loved ones will always be with you, even after they die.

[hunterrrs]

Evgeni Malkin said he's always felt slightly overlooked.

One of the premier centers of his generation, the 37-year-old has played his NHL career as the second center on the Pittsburgh Penguins behind longtime teammate Sidney Crosby. He was the No. 2 pick in the 2004 NHL Draft. Alex Ovechkin, possibly the only Russia-born player more statistically accomplished, went No. 1 to the Washington Capitals.

Malkin doesn't mind. Actually, it's just the way he likes it.

"I'm not the kind of guy that wants media around me. I like to be quiet a little bit," Malkin said. "I want to just play the game. Probably, people want, like, my private life a little bit more. But I'm, like, a little bit closed.

"Maybe my English is not good before, not talk too much with media. Again, this is kind of myself. I'm OK with that because I know I'm a good player."

Numbers do talk, though. In his 18th season, Malkin is third in Penguins history with 1,261 points, 485 goals and 776 assists, trailing Mario Lemieux (1,723 points; 690 goals, 1,033 assists) and Crosby (1,540 points; 571 goals, 969 assists).

Ovechkin reached out after Malkin eclipsed Fedorov.

"He's a star in the League," Ovechkin said. "I think he's a tremendous player. He knows how to win. He knows how to play. It's not a surprise he has so many points, so many goals and assists."

"People are talking about Ovi a lot. They talk about (Connor) McDavid. They talk about (Nathan) MacKinnon," Letang said. "You don't hear Geno's name a lot. What he's been able to do in this league for that long and at this age still, being the goal scorer that he is, it's just special.

"I think it's always been (that way), except maybe the year he won the Hart and everything. I think it's always been a little bit like that. He's not seen to his true color."

Without Malkin, Crosby said his NHL career would have been more difficult. That pair, along with Letang, has won the Stanley Cup three times (2009, 2016, 2017). They qualified for the Stanley Cup Playoffs in 16 consecutive seasons together before missing them last season.

"There are nights where you don't feel great or have your best," Crosby said. "You're watching Geno do his thing out there. That's happened a lot. I think we've pushed each other over the years, but he's a guy that has always stepped up when he needs to. I think that's just the competitive nature in him.

"I think the consistency is the biggest thing. You don't have that kind of consistency without being as competitive as he is. He's been amazing for a lot of years. The stats show it."

"I think the biggest thing for me that I admire about Geno is how competitive he is," Penguins coach Mike Sullivan said. "Just his competitive spirit is off the charts. His will to win, his want to win, and his will and want to score and produce offense. I don't think anyone likes scoring goals more than 'G.' You can see it in his raw emotion when he scores.

"Sometimes, I don't think Geno gets the credit that he deserves in the hockey world for the body of work that he's put together in this league and how talented he is. He's without a doubt one of the greatest players of all-time."

love a good geno lovefest

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 2 Eng Sub

VS SMELLS and VS AGE GAP RELATIONSHIPS

For downloading instructions and where to find the raw files please check our masterpost

Subs link

We ask that you not upload our subs to streaming sites.

Sharing with friends is fine. We’re also OK with folks sharing them in other ways as long as they aren’t public. Please use discretion when talking about the fansub outside of tumblr, but don’t hesitate to get the word out in other ways, and feel free to promote it here. Please credit ikeoji-subs whenever possible--we put a lot of time and effort into this.

Feel free to use the fansub for fandom purposes. Gif-making, meta-writing, and other fandom-related creative endeavors made using our fansub are not only welcome but encouraged.

translation notes:

about Fish Cake Man (7:28)

As we state in the subtitles, this guy’s monologue isn’t something we’re equipped to translate and if we did, it probably wouldn’t make much, if any, sense to English-speaking viewers. We learned from Snow’s Japanese friend that he's a comedian who is famous for doing this particular bit. After we had already finished most of the subtitles, I rewatched seasons 1 and 2 of the show and found that he was also in the other two seasons. In the first season, when Mob is explaining about how he's a side character and intends to keep it that way, he looks at a gardener on his university campus who is pulling weeds, illustrating that the world of BL needs to include some people who are unlikely to ever become main characters. That’s this dude. He appears again in season 2, when Mob is scouring the university for signs of Kikuchi after reading his goodbye letter. In every appearance, he's shown wearing the same sort of nondescript work clothes and cap and seems to work in some kind of maintenance or cleaning capacity at National BL University. –Towel

His name is Nou Misoo (脳みそ夫) which means brain tissue. I believe there's a pun here I'm missing but you can check our his sillyness on youtube, instagram or tiktok. –Snow

about “the gods decided to smite me” (10:24)

The first version of this line said that Mob “received divine punishment” for his Mob Move. That was already a great line! But I thought it had the potential to be a little more specific and evocative in an English-speaking context. At first, I was just trying to think of something a bit more specific to replace “received.” I thought of a few possibilities, including “I was smitten by divine punishment.” But since “smitten” is barely used anymore except to describe someone who's in love, it had the wrong connotation. Then I thought about how another tense of the same verb, “smite,” avoids those connotations and has a kind of King James Bible quality. But if I was going to say “smite,” I’d have to change the sentence from passive voice to active voice (which is generally best anyway) and give the sentence a subject who is doing the smiting.

I thought a unitary, capital-G God would make it sound a little too Biblical, possibly tipping it over into sounding overtly Christian. I knew that some religious traditions practiced in Japan, like Shintoism, included multiple gods. So I tried “the gods decided to smite me.” This seemed to balance out the Old Testament-ish aspect of “smite” a bit. The end result seemed more vivid than the earlier version, and it seemed like something Mob would say.–Towel 

about “select shop” (11:30)

Observant English speakers might notice that when the guy who used the same shampoo as Mob talks about where he got it, he uses a term made up of English loan words. He says he bought it at a “serekuto shoppu" (in English, a "select shop"). While both parts of the word are borrowed from English, the term you get when you put them together isn’t commonly used in the US. I ended up replacing it with “boutique,” which gets across some of the meaning. But I’ll explain in more detail here. 

It turns out that a “select shop” is a kind of smallish shop with carefully curated items that all fit a certain aesthetic. A business like this might be called a “lifestyle boutique” in America, but it’s slightly different from any business model used widely here. The big selling point of a shop like this is the fact that they’ve already vetted and coordinated these products. Their offerings are tailored for a particular niche, so that if you’re into the general idea a select shop is going for, you’re likely to be interested in a lot of what they’re selling. The items for sale will also have been hand-picked by a professional who’s able to find just the right thing in a way that a typical consumer wouldn’t be able to. 

You can imagine what kind of college student would not only shop at this sort of place but declare it proudly. Even if Mob was going to fall in L with a B, this guy would be a bad fit.–Towel

about “a listless ne’er-do-well” (19:04)

The more literal translation of this part goes “a man like this, without ambitions or vitality.” It’s a nice turn of phrase, definitely, but I thought if I could localize it a bit it might evoke more of the right feeling. I thought it would be more typical in English to express this in terms of an adjective plus a noun describing the kind of person he’d appear to be, rather than saying he was without these qualities. From “without ambition” I got “ne’er-do-well” and from “without vitality” I got “listless.”–Towel

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Parker Molloy at The Present Age:

During his acceptance speech as the Democratic vice-presidential nominee on Wednesday night, Minnesota Governor Tim Walz shared a deeply personal story about his family’s struggle with infertility. As he concluded by saying, “Hope, Gus, and Gwen, you are my entire world, and I love you,” the camera caught his 17-year-old son Gus standing up, tears in his eyes, pointing to his father and exclaiming, “That’s my dad!”

It was a sweet display of familial love and pride — a rare moment of raw emotion in the ordinarily carefully choreographed world of political conventions. For many viewers, it was surely a timely reminder of the human beings behind the political personas we see on stage. However, what should have been universally recognized as a beautiful father-son moment quickly became fodder for cruel mockery from pro-Trump social media accounts. The contrast between Gus Walz’s sincere emotion and the derision it provoked from the right offers a troubling glimpse into the state of political discourse and the depths to which partisan attacks have sunk. This not only highlights the lack of basic human decency in certain right-wing corners of our politics but also raises important questions about how conservatives view emotional expression, particularly from young men, in the public sphere. Not only is Gus a minor, but he’s also neurodivergent. People recently ran a story about the Walz family and what Tim and Gwen Walz have come to refer to as Gus’s “secret power" — a non-verbal learning disorder, ADHD, and anxiety disorder.

Tim Walz told People:

["When our youngest Gus was growing up, it became increasingly clear that he was different from his classmates," the couple tell PEOPLE. "Gus preferred video games and spending more time by himself." The statement continues: "When he was becoming a teenager, we learned that Gus has a non-verbal learning disorder in addition to an anxiety disorder and ADHD, conditions that millions of Americans also have."]

It’s a sweet article that makes the attacks that would follow Gus’s display of emotion that much more unacceptable. Anti-LGBTQ activist Terry Schilling of the American Principles Project mocked Gus Walz, writing, “Tim Walz’ son Gus wears eyeliner.” Prominent pro-Trump Twitter accounts Dom Lucre, Colin Rugg, and Autism Capital all mocked the 17-year-old. “Get that kid a tampon already,” wrote a right-wing podcaster Alec Lace. Trump ally Mike Crispi called Gus Walz a “beta bitch.” Right-wing radio host Jay Weber called Gus Walz a “blubbering bitch boy.” Ann Coulter called Gus Walz “weird.” You get the idea.

Right-wing beta losers doing what they do best: insult people.

This time, it’s Gus Walz, the son of Tim Walz.

#DNC2024

[teddygrahamxx]

So apparently being an actual real life genderqueer lesbian who makes porn with my actual real life lesbian partner (and occasionally friends who aren’t lesbians, but are literally always queer) is “fetishizing” lesbianism okay queens. My first sex tape was literally me and my partner throwing up a camera with acne and bad lighting and one angle the whole time, fucking for 45 minutes and then laying in bed snuggling and telling each other how much we love each other but go off. So some scenes are silly and more “produced” than others, not every video is a passion project, some of them you make to pay the bills— but others ARE very raw and real, and EVERYTHING I make is made pretty much exclusively with queer people. Go be mad at somebody who’s not a lesbian, go hate the government! Hate colonialism, hate capitalism! Cause your reasons for hating me are tired and baseless and borderline terfy (fr why are you so mad I compared femmes to drag queens like break that down for me and tell me it’s not trans misogynistic, you can’t). Me and all my favorite lesbian subs are gonna kiki about this now, byeeeeee!!

[thatshirleylee]

brennan's statement on instagram

I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. It cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. It cannot co-exist with illegal settlements segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the yiolence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My heart breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because, as an American, my government is actively championing and financially funding their mass slaughter and forced displacement.I speak on their behalf because l, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The United States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In writing this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts an ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough, clever enough or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not weigh in and make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who l've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words l've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I have missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event: I'Il just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine.

[emoelrics]

How Asa Captures the Experience of the Modern Teenage Girl

I truly have to applaud Fujimoto for his writing of Asa Mitaka. It’s been a while since I have seen such an inspired character and truly excellent writing of a teenage girl in shonen manga. In most shonens, the experience of a teenage girl is reduced to stereotypes like the tsundere or a love interest for the protagonist. *cough cough Naruto* But Fujimoto really shines bright among writers by turning his previously teenage boy led manga to a part led by deeply troubled and melancholic teenage girl.

Part 2 opens with a loss of autonomy specifically bodily autonomy which is something teenage girls are all too familiar with. Teenage girl’s decisions are made for them without any consideration of their own feelings and opinions. Parents, guardians, and other authority figures feel the need to make decisions  on behalf of the overly emotional and volatile teenage girl. Teenage girls are never taken seriously and no one really cares to sit down and listen to them. It is a prison -- to be caged in a body and mind that no one cares to pay attention to.

Teenage girls also lack their own bodily autonomy both physically and sexually. Teenage girl’s bodies are policed heavily and overly sexualized. Despite the over sexualization of their bodies, teenage girls are not empowered to make their own sexual decisions. While Asa is not overtly sexualized in the way she is drawn, we can tell that her body and other teenage girl’s bodies are deemed for consumption by authority figures. The teenage girl is never safe even if she is respectable, conservative, and demure; grown men and authority figures will still be tempted. As is exemplified by her teachers budding relationship with the class president and lust for Asa.  

I thought that it was so fascinating that the direct cause of Asa’s death is her male teachers lust and her classmate’s jealousy. It echoes true for many cases of grooming and it is an experience many girls are all too familiar with. Girls who are groomed lash against their peers due to the lies spoonfed to them by their adult male groomers. They will never find solidarity amongst fellow teenage girls instead they seem them as sources of competition. 

Not only does Fujimoto capture bodily autonomy and sexual desire perfectly, he perfectly embodies the inner monologue of teenage girls. Puberty for teenage girl’s is a pivotal moment in their lives. Childhood and innocence remain so far out of their reach as they are forced to mature quickly due to the nature of our society. 

These facts make it unsurprising that teenage girls exhibit high rates of mental illness. In a CDC survey, it was found that more than 57% of high school girls  “persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness.” Asa completely exemplifies this. She is lonely, sad, and isolated. With no one to trust or turn to for support, she is prone to destructing coping mechanisms. 

One of which is suicide as is covered in the falling devil arc. The crushing loneliness leads to an inability to trust peers/adults which further contributed to Asa’s suicide attempt. And in our modern day, 30% of the girls surveyed reported seriously considering suicide and 13% attempted suicide one or more times in 2021.

Young people in our day are struggling with the crushing fate of the world -- climate change, capitalism, and social upheaval. This contributes to mental illness. Asa too faces a similar fate -- a world marred by violence, lack of accountability and support from authority, and destruction left and right.

All in all, I am just so happy with how Fujimoto has written and dealt with Asa’s character. It’s real, raw, and respectful. And I’m sure so many teenage girls who read Chainsaw Man must find some sort in Asa and the struggles she deals with.