#read a dictionary people holy fuck

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

You can't be racist to white people the same way. You can be racist to black people. That's not how racism works. I randomly found your profile as I was looking through reblogs on fan art. You aren't going to have fewer opportunities and be treated unfairly for solely being white.

Systemic racism is different from racism. Racism against any race is the exact same shit. I literally have a link to a dictionary in my about section. In fact here's the definition of racism and slur.

the belief that different races possess distinct characteristics, abilities, or qualities, especially so as to distinguish them as inferior or superior to one another.

an insulting or disparaging remark or innuendo :

Saying you can't be racist to white people like you can black people is inherently racist as all fuck. I literally have multiple reblogs showing people casually saying racial slurs (the fact multiple people categorically say you can't be racist to white people shows an inherent worldview where white people are inferior to all other races since they lack the ability to experience racism) to me assuming I'm white lmao. Cracker is absolutely a racial slur and I've linked why multiple times too.

"The following is a list of ethnic slurs, ethnophaulisms, or ethnic epithets that are, or have been, used as insinuations or allegations about members of a given ethnicity or racial group or to refer to them in a derogatory, pejorative, or otherwise insulting manner. .... For the purposes of this list, an ethnic slur is a term designed to insult others on the basis of race, ethnicity, or nationality."

Please read a dictionary and focus on something that actually matters currently instead of this ridiculous claim that goes directly against the definition of racism.

No ism excludes a particular demographic, otherwise it'd literally be the thing it's defining.

There are literally multiple ongoing genocides halo currently, focus on that or global warming instead of trying to tell me the definition of racism when I've literally quoted it multiple times.

This misery Olympics shit is tiresome and gets society nowhere. All racism is equally bad and fucking stupid as sin. Stop perpetuating a problem.

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

I would happily help you write it up lmao.

I swear if I see one more person claim Ben is racist or misogynist I'll throw a dictionary at them.

Holy fuck people read a fucking dictionary and learn what words mean before you vomit them on a page.

It's an absolute travesty that the average US adult only has a 6th grade reading comprehension and critical thinking skills.

It fucking shows in exactly these takes.

due to internet idiots I have done something impulsive

[irndad]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

[thebookowal]

May I ask a question

what is wrong with the world

when we got told that Ukrainian was under attack from Russia! Everybody around the globe, including us Muslim and the whole Arabian gulf stood up to support Ukrainian

yet when is Palestine!!! is under attack from Israel!

nobody stood beside Palestine from the big countries, half of the globe of the big countries, the rulers just decided to speak for everyone like we don’t have any tongues to speak with and said that we support Israel

have you seen the war crimes they even committed that’s not even compared to the war crimes there are assholes. They literally present at 17 years old teen boy, because he throw a rock on a soldier that carries a gun and just one of the people who concerned very high member fuck her!! 💢💢 said that he throw some things I could open a humans head wide-open (I was gonna say that she said something similar to that but I don’t give a shit because that I just heard from her that bitch) the boy he throws a rock on a soldier, probably killed more babies more females more men than you could ever count on his fingers and his toes or has even entire organs they killed people because they don’t want them to celebrate they heard them they put him in jail because they don’t want them to celebrate with her loved ones came out of jail then what should they say?” hello”” hello” to one another like it’s just some stupid ass child book what is wrong with people?

why are you doing this? Why is there’s actual piles of shit in their head

why did they say those things? Why do they believe things that aren’t real? It’s clear they’re stupid

It’s a fucking clear you don’t have to read a book. To understand that what’s going on is wrong. Those people need a dictionary need a goddamn translation for the word, humanity because they don’t understand what humanity is

they just want the Al-Aqsa Mosque to build Temple of Solomon they want to destroy something that is written inside a holy book of a religion called Islam ☪️ Which is the holy Quran Kareem (those are the gods words inside the book, his actual words) this book haven’t been in touch by human hands(it’s mean it’s never been ruined, or changed anything ever since it was given for our profit) God said about Israel people that they are for bidden to feel mercy for others and they’re gonna go to hell because they have given out so many lies about God

Al-Aqsa Mosque is Israel goal they want to reach it to build the temple of Solomon that’s all they want, and if they did this, (Allah knows /I think ) that mean they can claim this country beautiful country Palestine as their country and Inshallah, Inshallah Inshallah this will never happen InShallah Allah will feed them sooner than we think

FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸

[gazingatmydoom]

just finished book III of Babel by R.F.Kuang and i am. losing my fucking mind. i'm insane. what the fuck just happened. i mean, with the bar that lovell gave robin??? passed through the whole family from son to father to son to KILL THE FATHER???? "And rage derived from madness." WHAT. HUH. robin not asking but DEMANDING lovell say his mother's name AND COMMISSIONER LIN BURNING THE OPIUM. TWO MILLION POUNDS. wait i need to take into account inflation one sec A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO MILLION POUNDS WORTH OF OPIUM. AND HE BURNED IT. robin was . oh my god. what a fucking. i can't believe it. i put down the book just before they arrived in canton like a week ago and i pick it up to THIS?? WHAT THE FUCK. i've augh. holy shit!!!!! back to that fucking conversation lovell and robin had in the cabin holy fuck. holy shit. words were sure said. fucking rolling my eyes when lovell brings up ungratefulness AGAIN like BROOOO THE POINTS BEEN MADE!!! BROOOO WASN'T EVEN A VALID POINT THE FIRST TIME U SAID IT!!!! GET REAL BE FR. i loved robin's internal monolouge too talking about he wasn't just a walking dictionary and how china wasn't just a fat golden goose cos like that's EXACTLY how lovell and baylis and babel and BRITIAN view them both!!!! OH MY GOD WHAT'S ANTOHNY GONNA THINK WHEN THEY GET BACK. AND GRIFFIN. FUCK what are they even gonna do... what are the gang gonna do where are they gonna go surely they can't go back to babel now lovell is DEAD they're gonna have to like. can they fake their deaths like antohny and griffin did? all four of them???? i thin ramy and victorie would do that, and robin might with some encouraging but honestly after that interaction INTERACTION yeag let's call it an "interaction" with lovell like bro oh my god he might just go fucking shove playfair and the rest of them off babel's rooftops at this point. but letty? i don;t know..... i don't think she would. she's. i mean she's the only one to not join hermes so far, how did ramy and victorie join? i presume like antohny contacted them somehow. it must've been. like so far letty's been pretty like. not not bothered i don't think but she hasn't been. idk. i feel the most aware of what britain does. or like IDK. i've been reading this book over the course of too long i can't recall specific character moments on the topic of britian's colonization althought there was that one lunchtime i think they talked about it briefly and YEAG it was the one where robin considered briefly telling ramy about hermes but held back on it cos he wanted to preserve what they had at the time speaking oframy CAN U BELIEVE HE WAS SO CHILL IN THAT CHAPTER???? bro was standing on a bridge after his birdie smokes OPIUM about to LEAP OFF and he's all like "yeah....lol.....crazy stuff bestie...." LIKE RAMY. I KNOW UR MAD AT ROBIN FOR NOT SAYING ANYTHING ABOTU HERMES BUT PLEASE. like idk tho maybe it was an act maybe he was freaking the fuck out cos robin was clearly Not Good so maybe ramy was like ok gotta remain calm gotta talk birdie out of this one gotta get him down gotta get him some WATER. i was headass reading this over some cereal btw. like i was just chilling on the sofa having some breakfast like hrm i wonder what's gonna happen in canton cos ofc it's where robin is from like i didn't KNOW it was all about the opium trade. and when baylis i think that was where shit like. started. slowly it was building up when baylis started being a raving white british racist about chinese people ohh my god when lovell was all like "country full of stupid backwards barbarous people-" and robin SNAPS doesn't interrupt or say he SNAPS at lovell "it's a country of people" that man had had enough!!! he was mad!! like god it was painful sitting through baylis tho bro i had had enough i was sitting there like jesus fuck this is a nightmare i mean u finally go home and it looks different and the layout is different and ur home is replaced by an opium shop!!!! of all things and u spend the entire time being dragged around by racist men who think ur no better than a dictionary i mean goddamn!!

tumblr telling me there's a 4096 character limit per block ok u FUCKING NERD CAN'T LET ME LIVE OR SOMETHING HUH CAN'T LET ME RANT CAN'T LET ME BE CAN'T LET ME TYPE bitch ass fuckass motherfucker well now i've lost my train of thought. humph. but holy fuck. the train of thought is gone but the AFTERMATH of the train is there the rails are still hot the sound echoes in the station my thoughts are still there they're just scattered and i cannot fucking believe the shit i justread. that was insane. i think it speaks to me that like. i mean i've only read two books in the past like year and a half (it's a habit i've lost and i'm TRYING to bring it back i miss reading so bad) and babel was one or is one ig i'm still reading it and the other was hang on lemme check bitterthorn which i thought was really good tbh and like both bitterthorn and babel have had me GLUED have had me ENRAPTURED they've SHAKEN ME like idk i think. reading perhaps is an activity i need to do more. maybe it's the imagination. maybe it's the descriptors. cos when u watch a movie or a show or u play a game everything is spoon fed to u u can see and hear it all there's no space for interpretation when it comes to tone of voice or setting or lighting or character positions or actions it's all shown to u but like i mean maybe it was just the scene with robin and lovell in the cabin and the part where victorie sees the burning of the opium by lin but like i feel like i could direct those scenes. i feel like i could paint the fires above canton. i feel like i could write poems about it. the image was so visceral in my head it's so REAL like i can imagine exactly how robin looked snapping at lovell i can hear lovell's chair being pushed back across the wooden floor of the cabin i can feel the atmosphere in the room where the four of them huddled together before lovell called away robin OH MY GOD speaking of like that american missionary was so funny. like what a bitch but also what a funny fucking idiot. like "ooh do u guys go to sunday church?" and ramy's like "yeag but i'm whispering prayers to Allah the entire time" like RAMY u MOTHERFUCKER and the missionary is HORRIFIED like he's so sharp with his words that man does not hold back and i love him forever for it and the thing is i wouldn't be surprised if he was doing that too like tbh being forced to go to sunday church when ur like wholeheartedly believeing ina different diety idk is diety the right word for Allah is god a better word idk but either way it must be fucking torturous and then the fucking author's note at the bottom where lovell is telling robin that religion is fuckign stupid and u should just practice recitations under ur breath instead like i love how this white british man in fucking 1830s england has DISDAIN of all things for christianity like can u imagine being that guy in such a christian centric time for england it's actually now just getting to me how little religion is mentioned in the book like we don't hear much about it despite it being like a very prevalent thing at the time i mean i'm gonna say i'm assuming cos i don't know fuck about history besides a couple major points so idk maybe england forsook religion entirely in the 1830s for no reason and it;s only in america but like i seriously doubt it yk. like a really fucking doubt that. i mean ig it speaks to how focused on logic the proffessor is but at the same time he still thinks chinese people are animals??? like we dodge the christianity but the racism we lean into still ofc that man is strange ugh bad idea mopping spilled milk with my shirt and then wiping my nose with it that shit smelled horrible. ok i'm done my thoughts my immediate thoughts are out i'm gonna be thinking aboutt his all fucking week but i'm done for rn i need to take a bath. or something. ig.

[shutupdevvie]

Tell me all about your love for Josh

there is so so so much to love about josh where do i even begin

first of all the way he loves people. and i mean the way you can tell he loves his family and friends ofc but the way he loves the fans and people in general. he pulls back when he sings with jake so that people can hear more than just him. he, as he has said before, is ready and willing to defend danny at the drop of a hat. he jokes around with sam in a way that i think makes him feel like he belongs there. obviously idk how sam feels but we've heard the "people wanna know what i play?" clip and i just. i feel like josh just wants them all to feel like they belong on stage. josh may be the "frontman" but they all deserve to be there. i feel like this also ties into josh giving the other boys roses to hand out this tour. they're all moving around now meaning that he gets to share that feeling and that ability to hand those roses out with his brothers.

and then the way he loves the fans. they all pour their heart and souls out on the stage and it's just so wonderful to watch. you can see the joy on josh's face on stage and when he gets to hand things out to the crowd and interact with people face to face. josh is always sunlight but the way he glows on stage is just a whole other level.

the way he manages to be this confident frontman guy on stage and then he comes off and he's just. he's just a shy guy. it's so endearing to see him meet people. when he doesn't know how to accept a compliment and he's. he's just a guy when he's offstage. and how he gets ready so early before shows :(( his jumpsuits are his armor and i just. i love him for it.

and we cannot forget how beautiful his brain is. i know sometimes josh speaks in absolute riddles. no one really knows what he's saying (same with jake sometimes what is it about the twins and not making any sense) but he has such a lovely view of the world and i love love love getting to hear him talk about things. he makes me see things in a way i hadn't before. this whole band has changed how i view things and i mean that in the absolute best way.

speaking of listening to josh talk. his voice. he genuinely could read the dictionary. the phone book. the bible. i don't care what. i could listen to him talk for hours and hours about anything.

and actually that too. his passion. his passion for music and his passion for film making and his passion for art, in general. anytime we get an interview where josh gets to talk about his love of film and how it's tied into the music. anytime we get to hear the boys geek out about music in any capacity is just so wonderful. i love hearing them talk about the creation of their music or music they love or about their instruments literally anything. they love music so much and i just cannot get enough of their love and passion for it. and josh being involved in his own outfits and makeup and everything !! idk how involved the other boys are but we've seen josh drawing out his rhinestones and his makeup and his jumpsuits. he really cares about things and whether that's passion or him just being particular, or both, it's so awesome to see him so involved in the process of getting ready for the shows.

okay and then josh. he's beautiful. we know this. i could write a whole novel on his nose alone. his eyelashes. his smile. he's just. he has a sort of ethereal beauty about him that i have ALWAYS been in awe of. i know i make jokes about not believing the boys are real but there are pictures and videos of josh where i just. i genuinely am a little confused about how he's a real person. and he just looks like that. i don't believe in god but if i did then i would say god handcrafted josh because holy fuck (literally holy) he leaves me breathless.

and more about being in awe and revisiting the topic of his voice. he is. so fucking talented. his range is INSANE. his strength is INSANE. he forgets the lyrics sometimes but it's OKAY he figures it out. anybody who doesn't think josh is a fucking crazy talented vocalist is batshit insane. he deserves his roses and i am willing to give them to him.

and his humor !! he's so silly goofy. he's funny. he makes me laugh. even when he isn't really trying to. it's great !!

also. i know i haven't been a fan for the longest time, but even in the period of time that i've been here it's been so so wonderful to watch josh blossom on stage. we know that sacred the thread is about josh's jumpsuits and him finding himself and god i have loved watching him switch between outfits and trying new stage makeup and wearing it out casually. he's so confident now !!

and finally. josh is just very important to me. as i talked about before, josh is essentially an outpouring of love. he seems to love everyone all the time and i. it's just something i need to hear sometimes. like i am loved ! and i am home ! and i am accepted here ! it means a lot to me ! and not only that but now knowing josh is queer is just. the fact that i can somewhat connect with him in that regard. josh just means a lot to me :)) he has a special place in my heart

[shehungthemoon]

You know never again means No geneocide again. That includes when Fascist regimes who exist with Jewish folks being the most important figure (Such as the SPECIFICALLY FASCIST MOVEMENT OF ZIONISTM) do it right? Zionism is to Judaism as Nazism is to Christianity.

This is THE most ignorant, anti-semitic, misinformed, and borderline racist take I've ever heard.

Never again means that we know the warning signs of the genocide of our people. It can not get that bad again. The world should never be complicit in our suffering again—we know what it looks like. (Isn't it scary, then, what the world says to us now. Just look at this ask!) Do not take OUR mantra for Jewish anger and self-preservation and turn it against us. Oh, and. Luckily there's not a genocide going on right now, just a war.

Do you know what Fascism is? I don't think you do. At all. Pick up a dictionary, read some history, and stop using buzzwords like you're an expert just because uneducated jackasses on tumblr dot com throw them around.

ZIONISM IS NOT FASCISM. The ONLY way you can come to that conclusion is if you did no research of your own and instead let the bigots online tell you what Zionism is. The core of Zionism is a holy concept that goes back centuries in our religion, and has roots in decolonization. Zionists are not Nazis. They're people that want to go home.

And the GALL to connect Nazism to Christianity like that. As if all Christians are innately and irrevocably connected to the Nazi ideals. Do you realize how batshit that is? How ignorant and bigoted that is? You should be ASHAMED of not only falling ridiculously hard for propaganda and online bigotry but for then going forward and willingly spreading that information like it's fact.

Dear fucking god I hope you're not old enough to vote. At least don't live in my fucking country.

[fagdykevash]

DORSEY: We wanted a name that evoked what we did. We wanted something that was tangible. And we looked at what we were doing and when you received a tweet over SMS, your phone would buzz. It would jitter. It would twitch. And those were the early names, Jitter and Twitch. And neither one of them really inspired the best sort of imagery.

[snip]

One of the guys who was helping us build and create the system, Noah Glass, took the word Twitch, and he went down the dictionary. And we all looked at the Oxford English dictionary at the T-W’s, and we found the word Twitter. And Twitter means a short inconsequential burst of information, chirps from birds. And we were like, that describes exactly what we’re doing here. So it was an easy choice, and we got twitter.com for some very low price, and we named the company Twitter.

i remembered an article i read a while back about how they chose the name "twitter". there was clearly a lot of thought put into finding a name that fits the brand perfectly. "x" on the other hand uh. what does that even mean? it makes people think of porn or alcohol, saying it out loud is indistinguishable from the word "ex" as in, an ex-partner, it literally only represents a little billionaire being petty that his last job didn't let him run the company into the ground. it's just plain awful, holy fuck.

[tiofrean]

I feel I need to add to this because I have another bone to pick with reading assignments. Not getting to the end of the book and only analyzing fragments is a problem, yes, but have you considered how absolutely goddamned awful the books are?

Like, maybe it's only a thing in my country, maybe just our powers that be are completely bonkers when choosing them... but for the love of everything that's holy, why would you make people read something that's not only boring but also blatantly outdated?

I was 9 and I was forced to read a fully mature book about knights and history, and not in a fun way. My 9-year-old self didn't give a shit about the history of my country and the political views of the 15th century. Who gives a shit? I was a kid, I wanted to have FUN, read something adventurous, not try to disentangle the political ramifications of a stupid king's decision of getting the whole Teutonic Knight Order into my country a few centuries before.

I didn't care about Great Gatsby or the Mockingbird, and you can keep your Moby Dick, thank you very much. I know there are people who like them, and all the power to you. But to a kid, those books are outdated and boring, and if someone makes them read them as an assignment, what the hell do you expect to happen?

I'm an adult now, I consume over 50k words daily on the internet reading fanfiction, sometimes a lot more than that. I read books, too, but now that I'm curating my experience, I actually enjoy it. I was fortunate not to burn myself on the system, or rather, I was fortunate to have those burns healed so I could come back to reading. I still hate "The Knights of the Cross" (an epopei-thing in my country) with wild passion and I want to tear every single copy I come across to pieces. I can't stand the movie made about it. This is what system did to me. Very often it's not the question of kids not interested in reading, but not interested in reading your particular brand of books.

Tastes differ, even in kids. Yes, I know, there are texts that need to be talked about. But you can talk about them and show examples, without boring everyone out of their skull and assigning them shit to read they will hate till the end of their days. And before you go "oh, but how am I supposed to talk about XYZ without mentioning ABC book?" You are the fucking teacher. Figure it out. I'm a teacher, too, and I have to figure shit out. And I've seen other teachers do this the right way. They were supposed to talk about supernatural elements in writing? Great, the whole class was reading Tolkien, not a medieval poem nobody gave a shit about. Fragments from the poem still appeared, sure, but the bulk of it was on something the kids could actually relate to and not find it boring to death, something they didn't have to check in the dictionary every second word of the text.

Also, not sure how it works in other countries, but in here, schools give you an assignment and expect you to read the book. So you do, you grit your teeth through it, it's boring, old, written in a language that gives you a headache... and then you come to class and try to untangle the meaning. And it's only AFTER you've read it that the actual era-assessment comes in, and the things you were supposed to pay attention to are revealed. And you realize that you were hanging onto your sanity through the reading by latching onto the only interesting plot arch you've seen in that abomination that your assignment was, just to hear that it was not what you were supposed to pay attention to. You were supposed to focus on the historical difficulties of building a community. And you sit there, staring blankly at the text like a dumbass because you have nothing. And you start hating reading assignments a little more.

Don't kill kids' love for stories, I beg you.

Why Kids Aren't Falling in Love With Reading - It's Not Just Screens

A shrinking number of kids are reading widely and voraciously for fun.

The ubiquity and allure of screens surely play a large part in this—most American children have smartphones by the age of 11—as does learning loss during the pandemic. But this isn’t the whole story. A survey just before the pandemic by the National Assessment of Educational Progress showed that the percentages of 9- and 13-year-olds who said they read daily for fun had dropped by double digits since 1984. I recently spoke with educators and librarians about this trend, and they gave many explanations, but one of the most compelling—and depressing—is rooted in how our education system teaches kids to relate to books.

What I remember most about reading in childhood was falling in love with characters and stories; I adored Judy Blume’s Margaret and Beverly Cleary’s Ralph S. Mouse. In New York, where I was in public elementary school in the early ’80s, we did have state assessments that tested reading level and comprehension, but the focus was on reading as many books as possible and engaging emotionally with them as a way to develop the requisite skills. Now the focus on reading analytically seems to be squashing that organic enjoyment. Critical reading is an important skill, especially for a generation bombarded with information, much of it unreliable or deceptive. But this hyperfocus on analysis comes at a steep price: The love of books and storytelling is being lost.

This disregard for story starts as early as elementary school. Take this requirement from the third-grade English-language-arts Common Core standard, used widely across the U.S.: “Determine the meaning of words and phrases as they are used in a text, distinguishing literal from nonliteral language.” There is a fun, easy way to introduce this concept: reading Peggy Parish’s classic, Amelia Bedelia, in which the eponymous maid follows commands such as “Draw the drapes when the sun comes in” by drawing a picture of the curtains. But here’s how one educator experienced in writing Common Core–aligned curricula proposes this be taught: First, teachers introduce the concepts of nonliteral and figurative language. Then, kids read a single paragraph from Amelia Bedelia and answer written questions.

For anyone who knows children, this is the opposite of engaging: The best way to present an abstract idea to kids is by hooking them on a story. “Nonliteral language” becomes a whole lot more interesting and comprehensible, especially to an 8-year-old, when they’ve gotten to laugh at Amelia’s antics first. The process of meeting a character and following them through a series of conflicts is the fun part of reading. Jumping into a paragraph in the middle of a book is about as appealing for most kids as cleaning their room.

But as several educators explained to me, the advent of accountability laws and policies, starting with No Child Left Behind in 2001, and accompanying high-stakes assessments based on standards, be they Common Core or similar state alternatives, has put enormous pressure on instructors to teach to these tests at the expense of best practices. Jennifer LaGarde, who has more than 20 years of experience as a public-school teacher and librarian, described how one such practice—the class read-aloud—invariably resulted in kids asking her for comparable titles. But read-alouds are now imperiled by the need to make sure that kids have mastered all the standards that await them in evaluation, an even more daunting task since the start of the pandemic. “There’s a whole generation of kids who associate reading with assessment now,” LaGarde said.

By middle school, not only is there even less time for activities such as class read-alouds, but instruction also continues to center heavily on passage analysis, said LaGarde, who taught that age group. A friend recently told me that her child’s middle-school teacher had introduced To Kill a Mockingbird to the class, explaining that they would read it over a number of months—and might not have time to finish it. “How can they not get to the end of To Kill a Mockingbird?” she wondered. I’m right there with her. You can’t teach kids to love reading if you don’t even prioritize making it to a book’s end. The reward comes from the emotional payoff of the story’s climax; kids miss out on this essential feeling if they don’t reach Atticus Finch’s powerful defense of Tom Robinson in the courtroom or never get to solve the mystery of Boo Radley.

... Young people should experience the intrinsic pleasure of taking a narrative journey, making an emotional connection with a character (including ones different from themselves), and wondering what will happen next—then finding out. This is the spell that reading casts. And, like with any magician’s trick, picking a story apart and learning how it’s done before you have experienced its wonder risks destroying the magic.

-- article by katherine marsh, the atlantic (12 foot link, no paywall)

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

Lmao look at people not knowing the definition of words

Ben's names for his aliens are effectively superhero names for entire species and shows that they too can Hero if they wanted to. They are in no way, shape, or form slurs. Ben immediately stopped using the term Sludgepuppies for Lebnopans once he found out it was offensive and apologized for it.

Even as a joke this take is braindead.

[chaseadrian]

"i wish you would write a fic where" ADRIAN JIST FUCKING DESTROYS MY HEART, i love this man and that he is so beautiful, but is rare the times where i see Adrián being mean or rejecting Reader.

SO like a fic where we are in some kind of unspoken relationship where reader sees it like a romantic relationship But Adrian is just like pure no and doesn't sees us that way or in any other way I DON'T KNOW BUT I WANNA CRY.

Have a Nice day and i hope You are doing good 💞

OKAY LMAO listen i AM A BABY AND CANT WRITE REALLY SADFIC BUT THIS IS WHAT I CAME UP WITH SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. also ty i hope you have a nice day too!!

Love is an Emerald

(PART TWO | PART THREE) Rating: General Word Count: 1.7k+ Summary: You and Adrian are just friends. Okay, you’re friends who hook up sometimes. And stay over with each other most nights. But you’re not dating. Except, when Adrian shows up to work with a hickey you realize you actually maybe...want to? A/N: I’ll probably write a part 2 to this once I have the time! It’s minorly edited, I wrote it in the car on my phone lmao so sorry for any mistakes!!

You didn’t know he was fucking other people.

It wasn’t like you were dating; there’d been no discussion about exclusivity or labels. The word “boyfriend” didn’t quite fit him in your mind. But, he’d been the only one in your life. The only one in your bed, and you kinda thought it was the same for him. He’d slid into the boyfriend role without effort, letting you stay the night when it was too late, emptying out a couple drawers for you at his place, making you breakfast at yours.

The first time it happened was after a mission, adrenaline pumping and scrapes coating your body. You stung everywhere, and the cold moisture of Adrian’s lips on the cut across your cheek was a blistering pain that you wanted more of.

So, you got it.

And then it happened again and again until there was no longer a line between friends and lovers. You’d never liked that term—felt too old world romance—but it was the closest descriptor you had.

Because he wasn’t a boyfriend.

Still, when he walked into HQ with a hickey that you certainly didn’t give him, a shield of confusion flocked over your body.

“Holy shit, Adrian got tail!” Chris pointed at Adrian, cracking up as he looked around to make sure the rest of the team took notice. Legend has it that in some dictionaries, the word ‘Subtlety’ is just defined as, “Not Christopher Smith.”

Adrian slid into a seat, “No, I got laid. Saved someone last night who really liked my costume.” He said, with a smile.

John walked in from the back room, plopping down at his desk and looking between the two of you, “I thought you and Y/N were hooking up.” He settled his gaze on his laptop screen, but you caught him darting over to see your reaction.

“Well, yeah, but we’re friends!” His voice was unwavering, staring at you with an earnest grin on his face.

Economos stared at you, awaiting confirmation. Even Leota and Harcourt, uninvested in the conversation until now, made a point to look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, no, like, we are. It’s just like. Tension relief, yknow?” You tripped over your words, spitting out a glaringly embarrassing agreement that everyone but Adrian and Chris picked up on. Chris had even perked up when Economos first asked the question, so you were pretty sure Adrian hadn’t even told him.

Granted, you weren’t quick to gush with Leota and Harcourt about jumping into bed with a fellow teammate, but this was Adrian. The man couldn’t keep himself from sharing what he’d had for breakfast that morning. It was hard not to retreat into a state of insecurity knowing that he hadn’t told his supposed best friend that you were...something.

The room stood in silence for several moments after you’d spoken. Your eyes darted around the room to your teammates, Chris nodding at Adrian and throwing him a thumbs up, Economos typing away at his computer, Leota & Harcourt returning to the dossier they were reading. You and Adrian sat there on standby. He was a field agent, everyone knew that. They told him what he needed to do, who he needed to kill, and he did it.

You were markedly more involved in the full process of these missions, so every passing moment you didn’t budge only deepened the embarrassment you felt. Made it all the more obvious that there was a problem. You needed to move, to participate, to do something.

Sure, you could go over to the girls and read up on your latest targets.

Or, you could go to the bathroom and cry.

Despite your strongest efforts, you wound up in front of the mirror holding your breath as you sobbed. Lungs burning, cheeks boiling red, it felt like your teeth would crack with how hard you were grinding them together to keep from making noise. You felt like a fucking idiot, seriously, crying over Adrian of all people.

It was just—everything about your relationship read as, well, a relationship. You thought that was what you were sliding into with Adrian. Never one to talk about things, you were used to getting what you wanted through action. So when Adrian learned how you took your coffee, and memorized your phone number, and waited for you before he watched new shows, you kinda thought you had him.

Not quite a boyfriend, but not someone who was entertaining other people.

Yes, okay, it was an unfair assumption, you knew that. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Adrian was cute, he was funny, a competent fighter, and surprisingly good in bed. Without acknowledging it, you’d harbored a sort of pride thinking that he was all yours.

“Ow, shit!” You looked down to see that you’d been gripping the sink so hard the corner of a fingernail had folded over onto itself. It was a dull pain that radiated through your middle finger, and you felt even more frustration course through your body, smacking the porcelain sink in retaliation with a disappointing wallop. It stung, and you didn’t feel like any less of an idiot.

You ripped the folded nail off with your teeth, and your finger retaliated by bleeding all over your hand.

Turning on the faucet, you rinsed your hand and soaked your face with tap cold water, scrubbing paper towels over your skin to try and rid your face of any signs you’d been crying. Your eyelashes were still clumped together, but everyone outside heard the faucet, for all they knew you just needed to wash your face.

When you walked back out into the main room, it was just Chris and Economos sitting there. Chris was flipping a pencil between his fingers while John was doing actual work.

“Where’d everyone go?” You asked, walking over to sit on the piano bench.

Chris spoke without looking up, “Grabbing some grub. Hey what’s up with you and Vigilante?”

Economos looked up from his laptop, not yet interjecting but certainly staying engaged.

You leaned back against the piano, trying to rest your elbows behind you only to bang them on the keys. Could this morning get any more fucking awkward? You were quick to close the lid and then put your arms down, catching Chris’ disapproving look and the smirk Economos was trying to hide.

“Nothing’s up. We fool around.”

Chris cocked his head at you, squinting his eyes.

“Bullshit. I fooled around with Adrian before—“

Don’t remind me. You thought.

“—and I still threw bombs at him in the woods and high fived him when he hooked up with other chicks. But I’m pretty sure you were just crying in that bathroom. So what’s the deal?”

You shot a look over to Economos, who was no help. He just stared at you and pushed his glasses up his nose.

It was of no use trying to act cool anymore. Every moment at HQ that day had been colored by your complete lack of composure. You were a fucking government agent. You’d stared down the barrel of a gun, saved the world a handful of times, but you couldn’t sell a lie about your feelings for Adrian? Feelings you didn’t even know were a thing until you saw that hickey.

The words just spewed from your lips.

“I—I don’t know! We were just hooking up but now I have a toothbrush at his place and he bought a Lord of the Rings pillowcase to sleep on at my place and I guess I thought we were both only sleeping with each other but apparently not and I didn’t think it would bother me this much but it does and I think everyone but him knows so now you all probably think I’m an idiot or something.” You paused, “And yeah I was crying in the bathroom and I broke my nail on the sink and it actually hurts like hell so, Chris, you can preemptively shut the fuck up.”

Chris stood up, walking over to Harcourt’s desk to rifle through the drawers and pull out a bandaid. He sat down on the bench and opened the bandage, wrapping it around your finger once you held it out for him.

John’s dry voice startled you both, “You know Adrian is like head over heels for you, right?”

You and Chris both looked over at him, eyes peering up from behind the computer screen.

He sighed, shaking his head and closing the laptop, “Am I the only one that’s noticed? He doesn’t shut up about how great you are in the field—”

You opened your mouth to interject but he bulldozed past you before you could protest.

“No, not the same way he does for Chris. It’s markedly more.”

Chris scoffed, “Doesn’t matter, I don’t need his validation.”

That made you crack a smile.

“Whatever. It actually makes me question your ability to do this job if you couldn’t tell that he’s the world’s most lovesick psychopath.”

Chris pointed a finger at John, “Not the most. Harley Quinn jumped into a vat of acid for the Joker. And that dude uses dildos shaped like guns because he looks like a Ken doll down there after an encounter with Catwoman.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chris.”

You and Economos spoke in unison, and Chris raised his hands in defense.

“I’m just trying to help. But Economos is probably right, I did think it was odd that Adrian had a drawer full of women’s clothing. I figured he was just into that.”

Looking between Chris and John, you smiled at them both, “Thanks, guys.”

“Sure.” John opened his laptop back up and resumed typing.

Chris gave you a pat on the back, “Hey, I made a vow for peace, and that includes in the bedroom.” He winked at you and got up to walk into the back room. The sound of the TV came soon after.

You pulled out your phone and dialed Adrian’s number before your thoughts could cloud what John and Chris had just said.

“Yellow.” His voice was chipper, and you heard pop music blaring in the background fade until it wasn’t audible.

“Hey I gotta talk to you when you get back.” You bounced your leg, picking at the bandage on your finger.

“What abouts?” He asked.

“I’ll just—I’ll tell you when you get here. Talk to you soon. Bye Adrian.”

“Okay, buh-bye!”

You hung up and shook out your hands, nerves shooting through your body.

Economos spoke again without looking up, “If your nerves are that shot after a minute phone call, I’m definitely questioning how you perform so well in the field.”

You rolled your eyes.

All there was to do now was wait.

[tyrantisterror]

Meet the Meddlesome Youths

I’m officially starting work on the final draft (!) of Wizard School Mysteries Book 1: The Meddlesome Youths, which means I’ll have it published in, like, less than a month holy fuck, so it’s probably time for me to start pitching this to you a bit.  So let’s discus the meddlesome youths after the cut!

WSM is based on a genre I like to call "mystery solving teens," where a group of young people (often but not always teenagers) solve mysteries/thwart evil schemes that the adults in their lives are either willfully ignorant of or, worse, complicit in maintaining.   There are countless examples I could list: Scooby Doo, The Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the Persona series, that one famous series written by that horrible TERF, et cetera.   I love the mystery solving teens genre.  Hands down one of my favorite genres of fiction!  I've always wanted to write my own, and about ten years ago I started idly plotting how I could do it.

If you've read my other novels, you may have picked up that I love archetypes.  Seeing different takes on a well-used trope is one of my favorite things about exploring a genre, and that goes doubly for when I write a story in said genre.   So, for the story that became WSM, I started out by figuring out what the main archetypes for a Mystery Solving Teens story are.  How do you build a proper band of Scoobies?   Looking at my favorite Mystery Solving Teens stories, I came up with a list of eight archetypal teens: the Leader, the Goofy Guy, the Brains, the Muscle, the Beauty, the Loony, the Token Non-human, and the Rival/Bully.  I'll explain them as we go through my eight kids here.

The Leader of my mystery solving teens is James Chaucer.  As the name of the archetype implies, he's the de-facto head of our teenage mystery solving pals. James is ambitious and driven, naturally inspiring the people around him and taking charge of situations.   In a lot of these stories, the Leader is also your protagonist, and that's the case here more or less, though I'm structuring WSM as an ensemble story.  The story isn't solely focused on him, but his arc is its backbone.   James is also trans, and begins the story running away from home after being rejected by his family.  Attending the Academy of Applied Arcana and Magic isn't just a passing interest for him - it's a way to rebuild his life.  So he has a lot invested in making sure things go well!

The goofy guy is a bumbling comic relief sidekick, whose character flaws present a foil for the much more put together leader, but who also often has overlooked strengths.  In WSM, that role is filled by Ivan Muromets.   Ivan was the apprentice of a town wizard, i.e. a wizard who sets up shop and lives a comfortable life doing minor magic tricks to help peasants.  He has very humble goals in life and nonetheless stumbles in trying to achieve them because, well, he's clumsy and scatter-brained.   But Ivan is also loyal, compassionate, and incredibly creative, with a great deal of talent that even he himself has failed to recognize yet.  He's the friend who assumes he's a burden but is always there when you need help.

The Brains is the smartest member of the group, though often in a very narrow way - in D&D terms, they put all their points in INT and used WIS and CHA as dump stats.  In a lot of stories this character ends up like Briany Smurf.  I tried to do something different in my story.   Gretchen Pappenheimer is less "looks up polysyllabic synonyms for words in the dictionary" smart and more, well, mad scientist smart - the kind of wizard who understands that magic is the art of bending reality to your whim and decides to embrace that as her life mission.   Living as a hermit since her teens because of her pursuit of forbidden knowledge, Gretchen's a bit antisocial after being burned before, but deep down she's a very caring person and a loyal friend.

The Muscle is pretty straightforward, being a physical powerhouse. They often fall into the role of a dumb brute. Again, I tried to go a different direction here with Margot d'Francane.   A war orphan, Margot attuned to magic early and way too deeply, with far too much of the reality-warping power surging through her. She had to learn to control it or die, and, given that her hometown was plagued with bandits, ended up weaponizing it.   Margot is the gang's resident battle-wizard, with far more raw power at her disposal than her peers, and saddled with the downside of struggling to keep said power from consuming her.

The Beauty is attractive, fashionable, and refined, generally the token girl if your story is particularly regressive in its casting.  Rodrigo Cervantes plays all but the last bit straight.   Since "the hot one" isn't a super strong characterization, I chose to take the focus on aesthetics a bit further.  Rodrigo is also the artist of the group, whose philosophy on magic is focused on adding beauty to the world.   He's also the only member of the group whose family is wealthy (most of the youths are peasants), because I've always found the "out of touch but well meaning rich kid with poor friends" trope to be fun, and because I think it works well with this archetype.

The Loony is the member of the group who sees things just a little differently than everyone else - they can seem silly or even dumb, but often their unique perspective proves invaluable.  In WSM, this role is filled by Serena Takeuchi.   Serena's father immigrated from a far off country via magic shenanigans, and so she has two very different culture's views on magic to go off of.  She's also the only member of the group who has a reliable amount of self confidence.   Serena's name is a not-subtle homage to Sailor Moon, which not only heavily influenced her character, but WSM as a whole - the "find all the sailor scouts" formula of Sailor Moon season 1 inspired a good deal of Book 1's plot.

The Token Nonhuman is a nonhuman character (obvs), and often a wacky comic relief sidekick, more often than not paired with the Goofy Guy.  However, more serious takes on this archetype can be found, which is the route WSM takes with Charlotte Bolshe.   An ettercap (re: humanoid spider fairy), Charlotte interprets magic as a grand web that binds everything together, and often talks in metaphors that make perfect sense to a spider but are a bit hard for her human friends to intuit.   She's also an absolute sweetheart who has a bit of a Little Mermaid complex.  She wants to be where the humans are, she wants to see, wants to see them live out their finite lifespan in a plane of reality where time and space are constants.

Finally, there is the Rival/Bully, a character who starts out as a minor antagonist and jerk to the main characters, but sometimes becomes an ally over time.  In WSM, this role is filled by Polybeus Antony.   Hailing from Mediterra, the only country in Midgaheim with a unified government and, coincidentally, the country that has repeatedly tried to conquer the entire continent, Polybeus has been taught to have a BIT of a superiority complex.   Unfortunately, he's also riddled with anxieties about the possibility that he will fail to live up to his country's ideals, which drives him to act out a bit.  Can the others help him discover a way to accept himself as he is?  Only time and eight novels will tell.

I'm only one book in and I already love writing these characters.  I'm so excited for you all to meet my weird wizard kids and follow them as they solve horrific crimes at wizard college.  Look forward to WSM Book 1: The Meddlesome Youths, coming SOON!

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

Lmao nice crop, still using your victim complex I see.

Here's the actual post.

You racist hypocrite lmao.

"I'm a anti racist ally but have no problem with particular slurs because they don't cause enough harm!!!"

Clearly what a person who's anti racist would say. Cleaaaaaarly.

@ben-10-setting-omnicrom is a sexist and an ableist

Here we can witness her using SEXIST and ABLEIST SLURS against me. Clearly she is a sexist and an ableist and should be referred to as such every time she is addressed.

These SEXIST and ABLEIST SLURS should not be tolerated in the fandom or in the community. Please, if you were called a racist by her for using the word cracker, please, please remember to remind her AND refer to her as SEXIST and ABLEIST for using sexist and ableist SLURS.

Hypocrite.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape

Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.

Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)

WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD

-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH

AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG

so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit

motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty

DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL

for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it

FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO

PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!

so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot

MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT

fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?

Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other

Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect

Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST

Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best

Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs

Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT

Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers

Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff

Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to

Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON

anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh

so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun

anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it

meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio

“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed

kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT

AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER

WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/

now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg

ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF

hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again

OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN

THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... (　ﾟдﾟ)

(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)

oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao

to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am

but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol

(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)

um

holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying

but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud

anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this

do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean

OH MY GOODNESS

HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP

HOLY SHIT COMPRESS

“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”

jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic

also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic

(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)

oh my lord

the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm

anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them

oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH

Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect

so, uh. is he gonna die, though??

I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard

OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT

so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?

THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING

listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --

WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!

SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!

SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER

COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING

PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF

(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)

GASPPPPPP

okay. okay. looooool okay then

WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW

as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh

hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck

on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so

this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off

so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables

last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit

[nyxvrse]

Wolfboy Jason Headcanons

Yes. Wolfboy!Jason has a space in my heart because BRUH he was raised by wolves he’s gonna have some characteristics 😩 (oh holy fuck i don’t think i’m ever gonna get over the fact i have emojis on my laptop now 😭😭)

Anyways Let’s GO!

Sometimes he goes non-verbal because he was brought up by wolves so he doesn’t really talk a lot. Also trauma but that isn’t what we are talking about right now- *clears throat* Uhuh anyways so he goes non-verbal for different time periods and it gets hard to understand him so Annabeth ends up teaching him basic sign language (Magnus taught her) and so now the 7 and some other people close to Jason know basic sign language. 

He sits on his haunches a lot. Haunches as in like feet tucked under his butt and knees lined up with his shoulders. I’d call it kneeling but that’s not entirely it. Also he cannot sit criss cross apple sauce, it makes him feel weird and short (after sitting on your haunches it feels hella uncomfy to sit criss cross speaking from experience lol)

He can’t read. Bestie he a wolfboy he cannot read as much as we’d think we can. Camp Jupiter tried teaching him so now can read like.. baby books-

Extreme body language man. Nodding is his go to mode of communication because again ✨wolf childhood ✨. You can visibly see his body language shift because well body language yes but it’s also extremely obvious in a sense there is no way to hide it. He has a lot of physical tells, like when he’s lying he starts to bite his lip a lot or scratch his arms. When he’s super happy his face grows 3x. When he’s sad his chin starts to stick out a lot. 

Doesn’t know slang. Being raised by wolves (imma rlly drive this point home lol 😝) + Camp Jupiter really cut off his slang dictionary so he has no clue when people use slang much like Hazel. So the 7 love fucking with the both of them. Hazel is a little more hard to fuck with but boi is Jason a fun target.

My man growls. Not just angry growls, like when he’s like feeling stuff he’ll growl. When’s he’s happy it’s all high pitched and squeal-y and when he’s sad it’s more whimpering. When he’s angry he just straight up bears his teeth out and you can hear the deep rumbling growls.

He sucks at thumb wars. Wolves don’t have thumbs so he learned to live without using them much so his thumbs are very weak and so Jason sucks at thumb wars.

Please these are so random 🤠. Anyways wolfboy Jason me thinks *lip bite emoji*

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

I mean have you SENN the batshit takes people have that are delusional as fuck and counter to shit we all have access to???

I'm not even talking about Ben 10 either lmao.

You have flat earthers, anti vaxers, anti maskers, people labeling LGBTQIA+ as pedophiles and groomers when priests are literally right there and the Cruch has been proven to cover up shit for decades.... I could go on.

I'd find us annoying as fuck too tbh. I wouldn't touch this planet without seriously vetting anyone I talk to lmao.

It's wild how absolutely insane some people are. Like.... Plz get higher literacy and media understand. Critical thinking really isn't that hard people, holy shit.

Read a dictionary and actually understand the words you all use. It's embarrassing as fuck.

When I found out that the majority of the US adult population had on average a 6th grade literacy level so many things made so much more sense. But like, even then it's wild how fucked up people's realities are compared to the one we all objectively live in.

I genuinely feel awful for kids being born and those who recently were. Because all of the fucking yikes.

is he wrong lol

(source)