#so i looked at the list on wikipedia and. sure enough.

[waitingforminjae]

.

[skyburger]

okay you people dont get it at all. fries and chips are NOT the same. cookies and biscuits are NOT the same. (however american "biscuits" ARE just fucking scones. those are the same. theyre savory scones.)

fries vs. chips is easy to explain. fries are thinner chips are thicker & medium-width ones can go either way. some dishes you have to call them chips with (e.g. fish & chips) but some it doesnt matter which you call them (e.g. burger w/ fries & beef burger w/ chips)

^ examples of chips (left) and fries (right)

However biscuits and cookies requires nuance. you could never understand. im the one and only biscuit-cookie EXPERT. ive listed examples of each (under the cut, to spare ur guyses dashes)... hope you understand. hope my psychic mind beam waves are reaching you

COOKIES:

oreos

chocolate chip cookies

sugar cookies

snickerdoodles

black and white cookies

christmas cookies

macaroon

gingerbread men

oatmeal raisin cookies

rainbow cookie

fortune cookie

BISCUITS:

animal crackers

bourbon creams

millionaires shortbread

pocky

cadbury fingers

jaffa cakes

digestives

chocolate teacakes

custard creams

florentines

ginger snaps

jammie dodgers

ladyfingers

lebkuchen

macarons

party rings

shortbread (any kind)

spritzebäck

stroopwafel

wafers (any kind)

for the record though some of these (e.g. macarons or ladyfingers) i wouldnt really call a biscuit in conversation? like i would classify them as biscuits. But when i want biscuits i dont want those. do u get it. its like how rainbow cookies are cookies but when i want a cookie i usually dont want that)

[rebeccathenaturalist]

ETA: I wrote up a guide on clues that a foraging book was written by AI here!

[Original Tweet source here.]

[RANT AHEAD]

Okay, yeah. This is a very, very, very bad idea. I understand that there is a certain flavor of techbro who has ABSOLUTELY zero problem with this because "AI is the future, bro", and we're supposed to be reading their articles on how to use AI for side hustles and all that.

I get that ID apps have played into people's tendency to want quick and easy answers to everything (I'm not totally opposed to apps, but please read about how an app does not a Master Naturalist make.) But nature identification is serious stuff, ESPECIALLY when you are trying to identify whether something is safe to eat, handle, etc. You have to be absolutely, completely, 100000% sure of your ID, and then you ALSO have to absolutely verify that it is safely handled and consumed by humans.

As a foraging instructor, I cannot emphasize this enough. My classes, which are intended for a general audience, are very heavy on identification skills for this very reason. I have had (a small subsection of) students complain that I wasn't just spending 2-3 hours listing off bunches of edible plants and fungi, and honestly? They can complain all they want. I am doing MY due diligence to make very sure that the people who take my classes are prepared to go out and start identifying species and then figure out their edibility or lack thereof.

Because it isn't enough to be able to say "Oh, that's a dandelion, and I think this might be an oyster mushroom." It's also not enough to say "Well, such-and-such app says this is Queen Anne's lace and not poison hemlock." You HAVE to have incredibly keen observational skills. You HAVE to be patient enough to take thorough observations and run them through multiple forms of verification (field guides, websites, apps, other foragers/naturalists) to make sure you have a rock-solid identification. And then you ALSO have to be willing to read through multiple sources (NOT just Wikipedia) to determine whether that species is safely consumed by humans, and if so if it needs to be prepared in a particular way or if there are inedible/toxic parts that need to be removed.

AND--this phenomenon of AI-generated crapola emphasizes the fact that in addition to all of the above, you HAVE to have critical thinking skills when it comes to assessing your sources. Just because something is printed on a page doesn't mean it's true. You need to look at the quality of the information being presented. You need to look at the author's sources. You need to compare what this person is saying to other books and resources out there, and make sure there's a consensus.

You also need to look at the author themselves and make absolutely sure they are a real person. Find their website. Find their bio. Find their social media. Find any other manners in which they interact with the world, ESPECIALLY outside of the internet. Contact them. Ask questions. Don't be a jerk about it, because we're just people, but do at least make sure that a book you're interested in buying is by a real person. I guarantee you those of us who are serious about teaching this stuff and who are internet-savvy are going to make it very easy to find who we are (within reason), what we're doing, and why.

Because the OP in that Tweet is absolutely right--people are going to get seriously ill or dead if they try using AI-generated field guides. We have such a wealth of information, both on paper/pixels and in the brains of active, experienced foragers, that we can easily learn from the mistakes of people in the past who got poisoned, and avoid their fate. But it does mean that you MUST have the will and ability to be impeccably thorough in your research--and when in doubt, throw it out.

My inbox is always open. I'm easier caught via email than here, but I will answer. You can always ask me stuff about foraging, about nature identification, etc. And if there's a foraging instructor/author/etc. with a website, chances are they're also going to be more than willing to answer questions. I am happy to direct you to online groups on Facebook and elsewhere where you have a whole slew of people to compare notes with. I want people's foraging to be SAFE and FUN. And AI-generated books aren't the way to make that happen.

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[ganxiously]

So, it turns out what I needed to get out of my writer's block was soul-wrenching grief and heart-crushing disappointment. And while I am happy about that (to an extent), I also wish my muse wasn't angst because I think I am hurting myself writing this fic and I need to now make it everyone else's problem.

Sitting there in the dark, on Eddie’s sofa, curled in on himself like it’s supposed to do anything to hold him together, one thought pops into his head, bright, neon red and in bold among the constant litany of boorish, black ‘This is all my fault’ — All of this is because I didn’t know what a Kinsey six is. The thought is unexpected enough that Buck unfurls a little, wondering where it came from and then he remembers their anniversary date. The memory leaves him breathless but he is curious enough to push past the newly burgeoning hurt and take out his phone. A quick Google reveals it to be the rating for ‘exclusively homosexual’ on the Kinsey scale so he looks that up next and as he’s debating whether to start from Wikipedia first or dive right into the Kinsey Institute website, his eyes land on the conspicuous ‘test online’ button right below the search bar. A part of him doesn’t want to find out, doesn’t want anyone else telling him what he is but the taunt is too much. If you had known, if you had just taken a moment to figure yourself out, maybe you could have said something. Maybe you could have stopped him before he walked away. He clicks on the first test that pops up, looks at the first question, goes to select option 1 and then stops and stares. ‘To whom are you attracted?’ should be an easy question to answer but the confidence to not think much has left him. He could easily choose ‘Both men and women’ but would that even be correct? He’s been so sure that he has felt attraction towards men a few times in the past but what if that was a mild interest at best? After all, no one had really pinged his radar the way Tommy had. He looks at the next question and that’s when the panic really starts to set in because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if he prefers men over women or if he just prefers Tommy over women, over everyone else. What if Tommy is the outlier and he prefers women over men after all? The pressure in his chest becomes more and more painful the longer he stares at it so he closes the test and opens the next one on the list. That one starts off mild. The way the first question is framed makes it easy to answer that yes, while he mostly notices women, the occasional man does turn his eyes. The next one asks what he would be comfortable in calling himself and he thinks he could get away with calling himself bisexual but then there’s an option saying ‘could be bisexual but not sure if that’s correct‘. And again the thought hits, What if it’s just Tommy? He debates it briefly and then gives in and chooses the latter option. He breezes through the next couple of questions because he is at least sure that he would find it desirable to kiss people from both genders but then they hit him with the sexual preference question again. He backs out so fast his phone nearly slips out of his hand and with a sigh of frustration, he clicks on the next test. That turns out worse because the very first question stalls him and so it continues again and again and again until tears start prickling at the corner of his eyes and his breath starts coming in sharp, short bursts pulling his throat tight but not taking any air to his lungs. He keeps at it until there’s one more nameless person behind one more useless test clamouring at him, Tell us, tell us, tell us. Tell us you know what you want. He hurls the phone across the room, thankful when instead of landing on the floor, it silently hits the backrest of Eddie’s armchair and slides down into the crease with a swoosh. He should get up and retrieve it, he should go home really but what he does instead is let his head fall forward onto his raised knees and give in to the caricatured voice of his mind telling him, Of course, he thought you would break his heart. Look at yourself, you idiot.

This is basically just the set-up for the fic but rest assured I am dragging Buck down to the trenches before I let him swim up to Tommy again.

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 4

Masterpost Ao3

“Cassiopeia,” Danny murmurs, his eyes never leaving the glimmering void above him. “Though epsilon looks dimmer than it usually is. I wonder if it still has a ring...” Around him, the world is shadowed, the distant lights of cities visible on the horizon but not bright enough to truly disrupt his view of the night sky. It had been a bit nerve-wracking leaving the town, but he’d been making an effort to lay low for the last week, and had seen nothing to indicate anyone was coming to search for him. The idea of visiting the firefighters still makes his skin itch, but a little trip to stargaze had started seeming like a reasonable risk to take, and with the calm expanse of void above him, Danny can feel something deep inside of him settle. The buzz of fear that’s been around since before he even got here evaporates, as he counts the stars and constellations. They’re not all the same, Cygnus seems to be mostly missing, and a few of the individual stars Danny remembers seem to be gone, but for the most part, it’s the same. Certainly more familiar than anything else has been so far. The technology here is all far more advanced than anything Danny’s seen before, which is ironic considering the portal.

It’s funny, really that he can be this far away from home (a literally incalculable distance), and the stars are still generally the same. Even the ones that are new are still stars; still the same burning masses fueled by fusion and gravity, and feeding the universe at large with new material. They're still millions of light-years away, and yet they’ve been there for so long, streaming their light into a void, where it can eventually reach this very spot where Danny’s currently standing. All his problems seem so small in the face of the great expanse of space.

“Amazing!” Danny exclaims, letting himself just laugh with delight. Maybe he’s alone here, but has he ever felt this free before? Nobody to drag him away, or force him into fights, or yell at him about the chores he hasn’t done yet. Hell, if he really wanted to, he just take off, go hang out in space, maybe fly until he finds one of those alien planets that he’d seen mentioned on Wikipedia. Sure, it would probably take a stupid amount of time to get there, but he could , if he wanted.

Behind him, there’s a rush of air, and the sound of a person taking a breath, and Danny tears his gaze away from the stars, flipping himself into a fighting stance as he runs through the list of heroes he’d read about, trying to remember which of them could fly. As he turns, his eyes lock on to another boy, though, that looks to be close to Danny’s own age.

“Woah, dude.” The boy says, holding his hands up and floating a few feet backwards. “I’m not here to fight?”

“Then why are you here?” Danny asks. He is just a kid, so like, maybe , it’s safe, but also the symbol on the kids chest is the same one Superman was wearing, so he could just be a recruit or something.

“I dunno, man, I just heard you talking and got curious? Not exactly many people around that can just hang out in the sky, you know. I can leave if you want.” The other  boy’s expression seems sincere. Mostly he looks startled and a bit uncertain, and deeply unlike the weird, heroic, confident posture that Superman seemed to have in every picture. This guy looks like he’s trying to look confident, sure, but not like he actually is .

“You’re not Superman, but you’re wearing his logo.” Danny says. Dropping his stance, but not letting himself fully relax. Just because it’s not a fight, doesn’t mean he’s safe, after all.

“Yeah, uh, I’m Superboy.”

“Superboy,” Danny echoes. “I read something about sidekicks? Is that-” Danny cuts himself off when the other boy winces.

“No, I’m not his sidekick. More like he’s helping to train me. We’ve got the same powers, so... Yeah.”

“Huh. Training sounds... Nice? What’s that like?” Honestly, training sounds downright miraculous. Danny hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the destruction caused by the train crash, and how everyone in Amity had always complained about the damage caused by ghost fights. He hasn’t forgotten how much he’d gotten himself hurt in those early days either, not that anyone else had ever noticed that bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s nice. I take it you don’t have a mentor, then?”

“I’m not a hero.”

“No? I thought- I mean, you look a lot like the description of the guy who helped with the train crash over in Concord.” Superboy frowns, glancing off in the direction of Danny’s hometown.

“I mean, yeah that was me but I’m not. I don’t wanna fight anyone.”

“Oh, yeah that’s totally fair.” Superboy immediately responds with a laugh. “Honestly most of what we do isn’t actually fighting people, so y’know. You don’t have to be a fighter to be a hero.”

“Oh.” That kinda makes sense. After all, Danny had done a lot of fighting back home, and nobody had called him a hero there.

“Yeah, it’s like. There’s a lot of stuff about emergency response and civilian rescue and stuff. Hell, from what I understand half of what the Bats do is just, like detective work. That’s a lot of what my training’s for, actually. I’m pretty good at destroying stuff, I guess, but Supes says I need better control, before I can be trusted to handle relief stuff, because I might accidentally hurt people with my strength or something.”

“That’s. Cool, I guess?” Danny risks a glance up at the stars. No attack comes with Danny’s split attention, though after a moment, Superboy slowly floats over to his side.

“What are you looking at?”

“The stars.”

“Just, like, in general?” Superboy asks. He sounds dubious, and Danny can feel him glancing between him and the sky every couple seconds.

“What, have you never gone stargazing before?” 

Superboy doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Danny glances over. The false confidence has completely evaporated from the other boy’s expression, and instead he just looks unsure.

“I’ve never really had the opportunity before.” Superboy finally murmurs, quieter than any of their conversation so far.

“Well, I guess you’re in luck!” Danny says, offering his new companion a smile. “Because I’m something of an expert in it!” And Danny begins to point to the different constellations, and tell Superboy as much as he can about all the stars and planets above them.

“You really are an expert, huh?” Superboy eventually says, in the middle of Danny’s tangent about why Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore. That had been one of his most interesting discoveries in his Wikipedia explorations. He’d been kind of surprised at first when it hadn’t shown up on the list of planets, but he’d specifically searched for it, he’d learned about it’s reclassification, along with all the reasoning behind it. He’d been a little sad at first, but the realization that it came alongside the implication about a whole number of other bodies orbiting their sun had been exciting in it’s own way.

“Yeah,” Danny responds with a laugh. “I, uh, really like space. I actually wanted to be an astronaut as a kid.”

“But you don’t want to be one now?”

“I mean,” Danny hums. “It’d be nice, but I don’t think it’s really a plausible goal anymore. It- the way I got my powers came with some... complications. And anyway I kind of don’t legally exist anymore, so it’s. I can’t even go to space camp, let alone go to actual space.”

“Is that, uh, why you don’t have a normal heart beat? I didn’t wanna ask and be rude, but like, you sound kinda like a really large bee.”

“Yeah, that’s, um. I mean I’ve never been called a bee before, but yeah.”

“Wild. But like, if it’s meta stuff, then aren’t they legally not allowed to discriminate against you for it? They’re not just gonna be like ‘oh you don’t have a heartbeat guess you can’t go to space.’”

“I mean, there was, like, a meta scholarship on the website, but...”

“You’re worried about revealing your identity.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, that’s fixable. I mean, I didn’t have an identity to even reveal until this year, so the Justice League can definitely-”

“I don’t want them to know about me,” Danny interrupts.

“Oh.” Superboy says. “Well, what about just, like one person? Because Robin could definitely make you a whole new identity all by himself, and I know he has no qualms about keeping shit secret from everyone else.”

“Robin.” Danny thinks he remembers that name being referenced in relation to Batman. Something about a boy wonder. “Is he our age?”

“Yeah.” Superboy looks excited. “I could introduce you sometime if you want?”

“I dunno.” Even one Justice League associate knowing about him is concerning, and if Superboy knows about the thing with the train, then probably the adult members do too.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now! I have super hearing so if you call my name I’m almost guaranteed to hear it!”

“You can just hear me anytime?” Danny asks.

“Oh, uh. I mean technically yes? But generally it’s like effort to just tune into one person from a distance. But I listen for anybody calling for me, in case they need help or whatever, so I’m always kind of listening for that.”

“I’’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

“Right. Uh, do you wanna tell me more about the planets?”

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 2 ⬅ ch. 1

���𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. drinking. wc 2.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | so glad you're all liking the story so far! hope you like this chapter as well. like i mentioned before, i havent actually played this game lmao so pls excuse any plot inaccuracies. i'm going off of wikipedia and lets plays of the game on youtube. there will definitely be plot points that don't quite line up with the actual game. oh and just fyi, i do not have a tag list. sorry!!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you awoke the following morning with a splitting headache, someone shaking you back and forth only increasing the pain. you squinted your eyes open to see your friend leaning over you. 

“what?” you said through gritted teeth, not holding back any snark. 

“smith and jamerson got pulled into something early this morning. you’re the only medic on base and gaz is bleeding out in the infirmary.”

you shot up in bed, almost slamming foreheads with your friend. “shit. why didn’t you start with that?” you hissed, stumbling out of bed and blindly yanking on clothes.

it didn’t take you long to appear in the cold and barren infirmary, a laughing gaz stretched out on a bed filling your vision when you came storming in. 

he was laughing?  

“gaz,” you began, approaching him. he looked away from ghost, who had apparently been bearable enough to make kyle laugh whilst ‘bleeding out’. 

gaz mimicked you and repeated your name, a stupid grin on his face. 

“i was told you were bleeding out,” you said with a bit of annoyance on your tongue as you slowly strolled up to the man. 

“well, i am bleeding,” he said, holding his hand up, poorly wrapped in white linen that had turned a rusty red. 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, turning it over in your own. “did you do this?” you asked, referring to the shitty bandage job. 

“not bad, right?” he said with a cheeky grin.

“you’ve got to be kidding, gaz,” your fingers came up to grip the bridge of your nose. “look at it. it's so loose that dirt and debris have gotten into it. you’ll get an infection if i don’t redo it.” you shook your head. “how long has it been like this?”

“several hours, i think.” gaz looked at ghost who ever so slightly shook with a silent laugh. “i dont know, i think i did a pretty fabulous job, but if you insist.” his words were soft and airy and you cocked a brow at him. 

“he’s doped up,” ghost’s guttural voice said from beside you. that would explain gaz’s nonchalance. “got properly decked in the ribs. wouldn’t be surprised if he broke a couple.”

your eyes narrowed at gaz. “gaz,” you said exhaustedly with a hint of reprimand. he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes and you stifled a giggle. 

you went to work on gaz, checking his ribs for fractures and cleaning and rebandaging his hand. you were trying excruciatingly hard to not think about ghost’s eyes on you as you moved about the room. you could feel his glare like flames licking your skin.

finished with gaz, you switched gears and went to ghost’s bedside. he had refused to sit still and had his feet hanging over the edge while he cleaned one of his guns. he looked up at you and you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in his eyes. 

you went to change ghost’s bandages now, gaz already snoring behind you, making you smile to yourself. 

“goin’ back t’my room today,” ghost told you.

“that’s not a good idea, l.t.” you gently nudged his chest and he sat the gun down beside him and laid back. your fingertips lit like a match at just the small physical contact. 

“well good thing I wasn’t askin’.”

why did he always have to be so blunt? you grit your teeth as you finished up, avoiding any unnecessary contact with his skin. 

“i’ll only need to keep an eye on you the next two days. just to make sure there's no infection. then it’s easy sailing from there. i’ll show you how to clean–”

“i’m not daft. been hurt before. didn’t have some medic on call then, either.”

some medic. you weren’t sure why that stung. you felt stupid all of a sudden; of course he’s been injured before. he likely knew the drill like the back of his hand. you suspected under all his gear there were battle wounds that would take a full day just for him to go over the story behind each one.

“well, only two more days with me. then i’ll be out of your hair,” you mumbled.

you felt pathetic for wanting him to reply. to assure you that you didn’t annoy him or that he didn’t mind seeing you. but he just remained silent until you turned and left the room. 

you found soap later that day digging through papers sprawled out on the coffee table before him. “didn’t know you could read,” you teased. 

he looked up at you with a grin. you stood behind him to get a look at what he was reading. “jus’ goin’ over the dossier for our next mission.”

“ our ?” you questioned.

“since you’re the only medic available at the moment. yes, you’ll be coming along for the ride.”

“oh, don’t i feel so special,” you said sarcastically. 

“i woulda asked for you regardless.”

“didn’t know you could make medic requests.”

“ya can’t.”

you collapsed next to him on the couch, sighing before you glazed over the words on the sheets. 

“wait, ‘Hassan’?” you said perking up and pointing to the man’s name. “this seems serious.” you looked at soap with concern. 

“not gonna be an easy one, that’s for sure.”

“but, soap, i can barely use a gun, let alone fight. this seems like i might get killed if…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to race. you weren’t used to going along for intimate missions like this. you usually were held back at base or brought alongside a slew of other medics. but with everyone else gone… 

“don’t worry, lass,” he said bumping your shoulder with his own. “we’ll get ya trained up. it’s not for another two weeks when Hassan should be in Al Mazrah.”

that didn’t exactly make you feel any better. these men have been training their whole life. and you got two weeks?

soap could see the worry spread across your visage. “you’ll have me, gaz, price, and ghost to protect ya.”

“no,” you shook your head. “i can’t become a liability. you guys will have far more important things to focus on.”

“yer not a liability . we need you. there's a good chance that if we capture Hassan, he’ll be hurt. it’s crucial we keep him alive.”

“and that’s where i come in,” you said gloomily. 

“you’re there for us too,” he said smiling at you. soap always did appreciate everything the medics did for the team. he never treated you any differently than the other soldiers. you leaned against him, your heart racing at the idea of what was to come. 

it was late at night when ghost was due for another cleaning. you made it to his door and softly knocked. you paused a moment but didn’t hear anything in return so you quietly pushed the door open. 

the room was dark but you could see the faint silhouette of ghost hunched over on the edge of his bed. your hand hit the wall, searching for the light switch.

“wait,” his deep voice rumbled. you paused all movement and heard the soft rustle of fabric as ghost shuffled. you saw the illuminated outline of him as he pulled his mask over his face. your heart skipped a beat realizing he was sitting in here without it on. “okay.”

you ticked the light switch and met his eyes immediately. he had on his thin balaclava as opposed to the usual hard plastic of his skull mask. it felt like he was naked.

“why don’t you let anyone see you?” you asked timidly. 

“why do you wanna see so bad?” he retorted, clearly already irritated with you. 

“i..” you paused, thinking momentarily. “it’s not that i want to see what you look like. but don’t you find it, i don’t know,” you gestured your hands around nervously, “a bit lonely?”

“lonely?”

“i feel like i’d be lonely if i was always guarded.”

ghost appraised you for a moment, making you squirm uncomfortably. “well, i’m not lonely,” he grunted. okay, end of conversation, you thought. 

you shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, “right. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“quit fuckin’ apologizing.”

you sucked in a sharp breath. “okay. sor–” before you could finish your sentence you stopped yourself. 

you watched ghost roll his eyes. why did upsetting him make you feel so disconcerted? you tried to wipe your face of all expression but you knew he would be able to tell his words wounded you. it wasn’t fair– he could read everything on your face, but all he gave you was his eyes.

you bit your lip then approached him, wanting to get this over with. “if you wanna take off your shirt,” you said absentmindedly as you set your med bag down on his bed beside him. 

he sat back slightly and hiked up his shirt, obviously not wanting to remove it fully. you weren’t sure why, but that made your face heat. it was a statement you’ve made a thousand times to men who had injuries on their torso or when you had to examine their chest. you hadn’t even thought about it when you said it. but when ghost clearly didn’t want to completely shed his clothes, you felt embarrassed, like you had asked for too much. and in a way, he was right. he didn’t need to completely be bare-chested for you to work on him. the wound was quite low on his abdomen. 

you swallowed your embarrassment and cleaned and rebandaged his stitches. you saw an array of goosebumps rise on ghost’s skin from your featherlight touches as you worked. you finished quickly before shoving all your supplies forcibly in your med bag. you needed out of there asap. 

you threw your bag on your shoulder and went to leave when ghost’s bare hands grabbed your wrist. he twirled you so effortlessly to face him again that it almost infuriated you. 

you sucked in a breath of air as you looked at him a bit dumbfounded. ghost thought for a moment, his hand still firmly around your wrist. 

“i don’t mean to be such an arse,” he grunted.

in a breathy tone you spoke back, “it’s fine. i don’t think that, you’re just—“

he cut you off. “no. i don’t have to be so fuckin' upfront with you all the time. you’re just tryin’ to do your job. i gotta remind myself your not one of my men.”

you nodded, holding in the hurt that echoed through you. he was being upfront with you? what did that mean? that he regrets just being honest? that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. you hated yourself for wanting him to say something along the lines of him just lashing out and he didn’t mean the shit he said to you. but he did mean the shit he said, he just regretted saying it out loud.

“not one of your men, right,” you repeated back. you weren’t one of his men. you were just a starstruck woman who had no fucking business working with the most elite men in the world. awesome. 

ghost’s eyes darted between yours as if he wanted to say something more. that maybe he didn’t like the sullen tone you used when repeating his words back to him. as if he might have actually not intended for that implication. you could have sworn you saw his lips move under his mask like he was contemplating telling you he didn’t mean it like that.

but he was silent. 

“really. it’s fine,” you mumbled. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

ghost breathed your name, all too easily deciphering the hurt in your words. you wanted to bash your head against the wall for being so obvious. he was right. you weren’t meant for this line of work. you were too soft.

oh my god, were you going to cry?!

you ignored the flutter in your belly when he said your name and scurried out of the room, wanting to drown out your embarrassment with a swig of whiskey. this seemed to be a pattern with you two–ghost saying something a bit too real, you getting hurt and running out of the room like a baby.

you found soap back where you left him and you waltzed over to him with a bottle of whiskey in hand. he looked up at you and gave you a cheeky grin. 

his smile shifted to something of concern when you deflated next to him on the sectional. 

“ghost give ya a hard time?” 

“no,” you lied. “just been a long day.”

soap took the bottle from you and took a drag. “long week, more like it.” 

you chuckled before taking a sip. you passed the bottle back and forth a few more times until your body buzzed and your mouth wouldn’t let you swallow any more of the foul liquid.

“how do you guys drink this shit?” you asked, making a face of disgust.

“years of self-hatred,” he grinned.

you slouched against him. 

“do you think i’m cut out for this? 

he flipped through the pages of the dossier before glancing at you. “cut out for what?”

you gestured around you. “this. working with you guys. working for the best of the best.”

“'course i fuckin’ do.” he gave you a quizzical look. “why would you even ask that?”

you shrugged, keeping your eyes off of him.

your name escaped his lips making you finally look up at him. “you’re here for a reason. price doesn’t let just anyone join his team. i’ve seen what you can do, lass. you’re part of the best of the best .”

you smiled making him grin at you in return. “no more of this shit, okay?” he said softly, his scottish accent getting heavier the more he drank. you found it comforting.

“okay,” you agreed. 

“now, lets find price so we can steal all his money with a few games of cards,” he said, lightly tapping your shoulder with his fist.

you laughed knowing good and well price could beat the two of you blindfolded.

chapter 3 ➡

[hillbillyoracle]

So you can't get out of bed...

This is a resource list for all those who are having trouble getting out of bed. Whether that's because of injury, disability, or mental health, this collection of resources should help address some of the common pain points I've experienced over the years. Some will require modification if truly bedbound but my hope is this sparks ideas and gives you a place to start.

A warning: this is a *long* post. I went for thoroughness over brevity so people had options where possible.

Food

This video from Sarah McGlory of Adaptive Cleaning details her system.

It is excellent. I have a similar bin to her first in my room for high pain and low mood days. Prioritize high fiber and high protein shelf stable foods. Make sure electrolytes and water are within easy reach.

If grocery trips are too much, it's worth looking into pick up or delivery. In my experience, the delivery services through stores are better than Instacart and the like. The retailer who must not be named also has a great snack selections that hold up pretty well in transit.

Fruit + veggie pouches, baked chips, and RXBars are some of my favorites to keep on hand.

Clean Space

This video from KC Davis of Struggle Care details her "Five Things Tidying Method".

If you can't tidy your whole space, focus on the walkways. Make sure you have a walkway to your bedroom door, to your front door (or other way to leave your house), to the bathroom, and to the kitchen or where you store food.

Another tip from KC Davis - if you're struggling to get your plates back to the kitchen before they stick or attract bugs, get gallon sized plastic bags and seal the plates inside of them. You can always wash and reuse them once you've delivered it safely to your sink or dishwasher. When you're just surviving, it's just as okay to toss them after.

Bonus: This no-mess method of decluttering from Dana K. White is low energy friendly. You can stop whenever and your space is still better.

Hygiene

This post details my care kit that I use.

If you're unable to shower regularly, I'd add in some baby wipes. Yours probably won't look exactly like mine but I hope it can be a jumping off point. If I could only pick two items, it'd be the disposable toothbrushes and a good facial lotion (since it can also be used on the body). If you can't bare to change your clothes, just change your underwear. This helps prevent health issues down the road.

Movement

Arm Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 min]

Core Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 Min]

Leg Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 Min]

Yoga in Bed: [Morning] [Anytime] [Evening]

Stretching: [5 Min] [10 Min]

If you're able to stand + move but not up for leaving your room, then Rick Bhullar's walking workouts are great in a small space.

For a long time, I thought that you could only get exercise by getting dressed in specific clothes and going outside or to a gym. Now I know that there are lots of options for getting a little movement in bed. Even a short 3 min workout a day can help decrease muscle atrophy. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good enough.

Bonus: I also just walk laps around my room/apartment. You don't have to go outside. It can get a little boring sure. But quick 5-10 min walking breaks through out the day add up.

Spirituality

This is ultimately going to be specific to you and your tradition. Even if you are not religious at all taking a moment to think about your bigger picture values is important. Since my core spiritual path is Buddhism, here are some recommendations in that vein. I could not find good links for all of these. I don't necessarily do all of these everyday but I try to do a few.

Three Refuges by Plum Village

The Five Precepts by Access to Insight

The Five Remembrances on Wikipedia

Chanting Om Mani Padme Hum

Chanting Namo'valokiteshvara

Reciting the Heart Sutra

Bonus: A pagan practice I enjoy is reciting the hymns to the planet of the day. Offering water and incense is great but optional. Praying to and thanking ancestors and land spirits is also a great practice.

Alternatives to Social Media

It's easy to get stuck in the black hole of scrolling. It's good to have something enjoyable to pivot to.

Cozy Games

My favorites are Stardew Valley, Wingspan, and Animal Crossing. The first two aren't terribly expensive. A lower cost alternative to Animal Crossing would be Cozy Grove which regularly goes on sale. Sims can be cozy as well - minus any pool shenanigans.

Slowly

This is an app that allows you to send messages but delivers them on a delay based on how far away you are from someone. It makes it fairly easy to find penpals though, as with anything, it can be hit or miss. I've even convinced a few of my irl friends to try it and write them little letters on there. The delay makes receiving them more special. It's a great way to play letter writing rpgs with friends. I'm currently using it to play Grandpa's Farm with my partner.

750 Words

Ever wished you could do morning pages digitally? That's what 750 words started out as being but you can ultimately use it however you want. Some people use it to hit word counts on their writing projects. I'm a fan of using it to brain dump and then micro journal. It does cost a small fee after 30 days but it's by far been worth it to me.

FeederWatch

Getting outside - even if it's just for 5 minutes - once a day is a great goal. But if you can't, take a break and watch one of these feeder streams for a while. Even just seeing images of the outdoors, is calming. I sometime throw this up on one screen while I'm playing a cozy game or doing some non-screen activities.

Screen Breaks

We all know it's important to take screen breaks - but it's extra important to do it when you're in bed and you're screens are a big part of how you spend your day. Below are some of my favorite ways to take a break. 10 minutes every two hours or 20 minutes every three hours can make a big difference.

Postcrossing or writing letters to friends

Solo RPGs - here are some of mine, here's a D&D example

Free adult coloring pages

Read a Book - reading challenge, get personalized recommendations

Play a solitaire card game - there are so damn many now

Walk around for 5-10 minutes, bonus if it's outside.

Volunteer

One of the big feelings that come up for me when I'm mostly in bed is that I feel like a burden to others. Rather than trying to "be productive" I've found it's much better to try to positively contribute to others even if it's in small ways - sending a text to someone remembering/thanking them for something kind they did for me, ordering a little present for someone I know who's had a rough time, sending a card to someone who has a birthday coming up. The little stuff really helps people.

If you don't have many people in your life like that to help or you'd like to help some strangers too here are some other options.

Sigma Phi Eta

This is a 100% online and free greek service org I'm trying to get off the ground. 3 hours of service to become a pledge which count towards the 10 needed to become a member. 10 hours each year to stay active. We maintain an updated list of online/distanced volunteer opportunities as we find them. We have service awards for those who want to go above and beyond. Plus once you're a member you can wear our letters.

We're small right now but if you want a group of people to talk service and grow with - come join us!

Letters Against Isolation

LAI is probably my favorite charity I volunteer for. Volunteers write cards and letters to people in nursing homes, assisted living, and those connected to senior centers through Meals on Wheels and other programs. They're always adding new facilities so the need is always growing. They have facilities in multiple countries they write to and could use people who speak another language especially.

Warm Up America

Mostly for crocheters and knitters - this org accepts donations of all kinds of patterns and distributes them to smaller projects and charities who otherwise wouldn't be able to access these kind of goods at scale. I've made a few things for them - simple hats - and greatly enjoyed the process. Great use for your cheaper acrylic yarns.

7 Cups

I've had a mixed experience with 7 Cups. I really have enjoyed my experiences chatting with people on there but it can be really hit or miss as to whether I feel like I've helped people. There's also the usual people who try to use any chat service for sex. That aside, I still think their training is pretty good and it can feel meaningful when you're able to connect with someone who's not doing so hot.

Checklist

Have you cleaned yourself + changed clothes? [ ]

Have you tended to your spirituality? [ ]

Have you fed yourself? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you tended to your space? [ ]

Have you gotten some movement in? [ ]

Have you taken a social media break? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you taken a screen break? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you volunteered or done something nice for another person? [ ]

[marikbentusi]

I wasn't interested much in the Gwenpool Fortnite collab (fingerless gloves are a cute tweak), but someone asked on Twitter about "evil future Gwenpool" being labelled "Dark Gwenpool" ingame (which is what I've been calling my fan character variant since 2020):

"Dark" is a very common prefix for evil alter egos, so even if people occasionally mistake my comics for official material, I was certain this was a coincidence. But then the person also casually pointed out that she's called "Dark GwenPool" on Wikipedia. Huh?

No sources cited as far as I can tell. One of the original Gwenpool creators even agreed that "Dark Gwenpool" was never official:

I hunted down the Wikipedia changelog where apparently someone injected all the Dark Gwenpool stuff on 8th of April this year (2024). So maybe someone on the Fortnite team checked Google/Wikipedia instead of making up the name from scratch.

I tried to hunt down the wiki editor for questioning only to find out they are banned for being a sockpuppet account. In fact, that user was such a prolific sockpuppeteer that they've got their own Wikipedia page listing all 164 suspected alts. One of them is called "Batrocfrogg", what kind of canonization assist from beyond the grave is this?!

Since that lead went cold, I looked at the sources the wiki edit gave when talking about the character more generally. Aside from the official comics where she isn't called Dark Gwenpool, we've got:

"Peter Parker & Miles Morales: Spider-Men Double Trouble #2" – evil Gwen just has a cosplay background cameo there, no name drop.

Marvel Duel, a niche F2P mobile card game, where she's an antagonist.

The person who first pointed out to me that "Dark Gwenpool" was also on Wikipedia dug around and found a screenshot that evil Gwen is indeed called "Dark Gwenpool" in Marvel Duel:

Obviously I assume the Marvel Duel devs just made that one up without knowing about my comics. Case closed on that lead! But I'm not sure if the Wiki edit was based on this.

Marvel Duel, if we can still trust its wiki page, only released in eight countries. They are mostly in the UTC+8 time zone. The edit was finished on ~22:00 UTC+0, which would be Tuesday 05:00 AM local time if the editor is from one of those countries themselves. Of course, maybe the person played an emulated/jailbroken version (the game does come in English), watched a foreign Let's Play, or is just a super night owl. None of these are stranger than having 146 sockpuppet accounts. But it also doesn't exactly help the edit's credibility like I had hoped.

I also don't know if Marvel Duel included the name variations "Dark GwenPool" and "Dark Gwen" that the Wiki editor used specifically (in the screencap above she's stylized differently). The editor also called her the "evil alternator future version" tho, so maybe they aren't a stickler for details.

----

But yeah the TL;DR is that "Dark GwenPool" is currently the main name for evil Gwen on Wikipedia with no source cited. Marvel Duel calling her that as well was probably just coincidence. Maybe Fortnite also made it up, or they copied it from Wikipedia, or maybe they copied it from Marvel Duel itself.

I thought it was weird and funny enough to share. 164 sockpuppets. WTF.

[howtofightwrite]

I’m not sure if this is off topic for your blog, but out of fear for my search history and the police, I wanted to ask if there is a means of someone producing a homemade bomb or something throwable that generates high levels of heat?

For context, the character I am writing is a lab intern that is secretly studying how to get rid of a parasite (think of something like Venom/Carnage) that can only be injured/destroyed with high levels of heat.

Two thoughts come to mind immediately, thermite and white phosphorous. So, in both cases, we're going to be setting metals on fire.

Thermite is more of a process than a specific chemical composition, which means getting the materials to make thermite explosives isn't that challenging. It involves getting a highly reactive metal, and then getting it to oxidize aggressively. Turns out, if you force aluminum to rust on the spot, it gets a bit warm. In some cases (such as with copper) the reaction is energetic enough to cause molten metal to splatter.

Because we're talking about different chemical mixtures, it's a bit hard to predict the exact tempreture, but most thermite reactions (at least, all of the ones I've ever looked up) will burn in excess of 2000K (3000F.)

Rigging thermite into a more portable form isn't that complicated, and crude pipe bomb-like containers should get the job done. Though, this would likely cause further problems.

The second option is white phosphorous. This burns at a lower temperature (around 800C), but this stuff ignites on contact with oxygen. Something you might be able to find in the air you're breathing. White phosphorous is a bit more tightly controlled, and is used in a wide variety of munitions. (In theory, it's used for tracers, as the phosphorous will ignite and glow while the round is traveling to its destination.) Because it will continue to burn in the wound, white phosphorous wounds are particularly horrific (as you'll see, if you ever visit the Wikipedia page.) However, it is already available as a payload for most military small arms cartridges.

A third option is classic napalm. This stuff tends to burn north of 800C. The actual material is a bit more disturbing than you might realize. Nalpalm isn't just a burning liquid, it's more like a burning goop, that sticks to whatever it hits... and continues to burn. Imagine a Vaseline sprayer (except, the Vaseline is ignited just after it leaves the nozzle.) Producing napalm in a modern chemlab, with a reasonable stockpile of ingredients shouldn't be too difficult, though it's unlikely the stockroom would have enough of the relevant chemicals to make much of the stuff. (Nalpalm flamethrowers go through a lot of fuel, so making the stuff on site might not be a great option.)

Using any of these methods will get a lot of attention on your character. While we tend to overestimate just how much casual searches for this kind of information are likely to land you on a watch list (this used to be more true than it is today), actually using them in the field will get an anti-terrorism taskforce crawling down around your character's ears. (Especially if they're making thermite loaded pipe bombs.)

Now, here's the funny thing about all of this: It's unnecessary.

You've got a monster that is vulnerable to flames. The simplest, and cheapest solution, is probably to go buy one of those orange, plastic, flare guns. This'll set you back less than $40 dollars (plus the cost of the included flares.) Then load up on extra flares, (at this moment, they're around $10 per flare.) (If you already have a 12 gauge shotgun, you can skip the flare gun entirely, and just buy 12ga flare shells.)

Those flares burn at similar temperatures to white phosphorous rounds, and are much, much, less regulated. (Though, if you're wandering out and buying up hundreds of flare shell rounds, that's likely to raise a few eyebrows.) (This is also true of normal emergency flares, similar temperatures, and they burn for much longer.)

This is without even thinking about Dragon's Breath shells, which will burn in the range of some of the hotter thermite reaction ranges. (To be honest, it probably is a thermite reaction, but I'd need to look into them a bit more to verify that.)

So, ultimately, the problem for a monster vulnerable to heat is that there are a lot of ways to throw burning metal at it, and let that cook it for you.

-Starke

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[fortunelowtier]

I was gonna reblog my original post but I didn't wanna spam people with a long ass post (this post is already long enough) so instead I'll just link the previous post here and if yall wanna go look at it you can, but the short version is that a few days ago I made a post talking about HBs incredibly high turnover rate, and apparently within a few days it got enough traction to where it started spreading to the higher-ups of Spindlehorse, including Viv herself. I decided to make this update post just as a way to debunk what I can and as clearly as I can. 

First tweet:

So for starters, they say this as if IMDB's numbers aren't publically available, it's not like I pulled these numbers out of my ass without merit, these are numbers I got off of IMDB. And I know some people might pull the high school English teacher card of “Anyone can edit that!!” and to be honest I dont feel like going into the semantics of one of the most non-arguments you can possibly use so all I’ll say is that the process of editing a Wikipedia or IMDB page is not as easy as your English teachers taught you to think it is. Sure you can edit it but it's another story if the edit will be saved. There's moderation, it's not a free-for-all.

Also, I find it interesting how this tweet was made (and subsequently deleted) mere days after their promotion to Animation Director, and if there's anything I've learned from Spindlehorse controversies it is that if someone is in any real position at the top of the companies proverbial food chain they shouldn't be allowed to speak for the experiences of employees lower on the ladder than them, especially when a lot of them seem to have a habit of denying certain claims despite the public availability of numerous pieces of evidence pointing toward the contrary

It's like if you visited a bunch of former employees of a restaurant with a high turnover rate with proof that they had worked there and for exactly how long they worked there and then the manager comes along and tries to basically say “NUH UH” despite information proving the contrary being publicly available (maybe not the best analogy but you get what I mean)

—

Ok now onto the second one by Viv herself:

There’s a lot to dissect here so I’m gonna break it down bit by bit.

Firstly:

"They’re listing every single credited person in EVERY art department"

So the way I got my numbers was by going to the Series Animation Department section of HB's IMDB, highlighting every name from the beginning of the section to the end, and then pasting them into this website which gave me the line count of 444. Was that the most optimal way of doing so? No, especially after I learned after the fact that there's a way to just see the numbers straight up, but that hardly matters considering the fact that there are allegedly more people in the animation dept who were uncredited, however, I'm still waiting on some more info from my source as to the validity and the scale of these claims (How many people were uncredited, how little were they paid for their work, etc etc) to make a proper post about it, so until then ill just leave it at that as to not make accusations without merit.

So, humoring Viv, I added up the total IMDB credits for the Art Dept and Visual Effects Dept, as well as the Sound Dept since I qualify sound as a form of art and because I wanted to give Viv as fair a chance as possible and actually tally the total credits of “every art department” as Viv claims I did, and it still only equals 155 total credits, a little over a third of the credits in the Animation Dept

Secondly:

“That includes the TC and Chaos credits”

So these are in reference to Toon City and Chaos Emporium, 2 companies known as a source for outsourcing animation, and just to humor Viv I decided to go onto IMDB and tally up all of the Chaos and TC credits since according to her that's where I got most of my final number.

After doing so, Chaos Emporium had a total of 15 credits, and Toon City had a total of 45

So Viv is making it seem like the TC and CE credits make up a large majority of them, which is why I got the number I did, when in reality when combined they only equal 60 credits. 14% of the total (technically it’s 13.5% but I’m rounding to the nearest whole for the sake of convenience)

Thirdly:

“We dont even have 400 people. Simply Misinformation.”

You’re right Viv, you dont have 400 people, because I never said you did, nor did I imply you did. I said you've had 400. Of course you dont have 400 current employees, your company burns through them like paper because you underpay them while you go burning your Amazon and merch money on cruises and vacations and continuously post photos of you buying from zionist companies knowing full well that they're part of an active boycott.

—

So yeah, that's my 2 cents. Sorry if this sounded like some shit you'd see on a Twitlonger but after Viv was made aware of the posts I made about the turnover rate (and subsequently blocked me within the hour after seeing it) I knew that it wasn't gonna be long before I had people DMing me about how wrong I was because “Viv said it was wrong so it must be wrong”. 

One more thing I wanna add because I've gotten a lot of angry messages/asks about this, a lot of Viv stans seem to think I have this bizarre hate boner for Viv when I really don’t. I don’t hate Viv, I hate what she’s become. I hate how ever since the HH pilot she’s become a bully who can’t take criticism. And not just on the surface level of “criticism makes her upset”, because yea no shit, criticism makes everyone upset at least a little, and it's why I hate it when people see someone being upset at criticism and going “ERMM, CANT TAKE CRITICISM?”

When I say “Viv can’t take criticism” I mean she actively tries to shut down any convo about it without trying to learn from it. She blocks anyone who talks poorly about her or her company and makes baseless claims knowing full well her fans will follow her to the ends of Hell regardless of whether or not what she’s saying is even correct.

That’s all I got for now

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

Daily OFMD Renewal Tasks - Updated 01/31/2024

Hey all! These were starting to get a bit big for the Recap, so I'll link here instead. I'll keep this updated every day so feel free to reference back here and I'll link to this inside the Recaps.

==Things to remember==

Keep it positive! We are wooing them!

Only address one platform at a time!

Make it personal! Tell them why you want to be on that platform (inclusivity, diversity, other shows that are similar, etc)

���It’s okay to reuse some content with new tags but try to space the posts out a couple hours so they dont stack up on top of each other in hashtag very obviously.” -Jac

==Today's Hashtags==

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

#FinishOurStories

==Platforms to Reach Out to==

Netflix

AmazonPrime

AppleTV

If you reach out on the social medias, you can cater to individual mission statements per platform.

Cheat Sheet Below provided by @aproperpirate on Twitter

If you wanna talk about the shows creativity, feel free to reference Ra Vincent's site, he was the Production Designer for OFMD. Great inspiration and pictures to use to show off to the networks.

It's also helpful for Amazon to show them the international reach

== Vote on the Queerties! ==

You can vote once a day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

== US Social Media For Each Platform ==

Instagram:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @primevideo

Apple TV @appletv

Threads:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @primevideo

Twitter:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @PrimeVideo

Apple TV @AppleTV

Facebook:

Netflix @netflix

PrimeVideo @PrimeVideo

Apple TV @AppleTV

==Daily Helpful Tasks:==

1. Push That Petition

2. Fill out Feedback forms:

Make sure to request Our Flag Means Death on all the platforms, and indicate why you like the show (if that's an option) and keep it positive. Source: @Lcmwriter100 on Twitter

Netflix

AppleTV - looking for an example letter? Check out @saltpepperbeard’s post

AmazonPrime

For Amazon Prime - Courtesy of @yougotofast over on twitter.

Existing Prime subscribers, you can access a Suggestions/Feedback form on the Prime Video app in the Settings > Help & Feedback section. The form is automatically tied to your Prime account, not sure if that makes any difference compared to anonymous feedback.

3. Platform/Article Engagement

HBOMax

If you still have HBO Max, please still go ahead and stream Our Flag Means Death, it keeps up engagement and numbers.

Search Our Flag Means Death on Netflix

If you have Netflix, after your search, stream the first title that comes up for a few minutes.

Article Engagement - Source: @candiedsilkmoth on twitter

@itsmfgames Has been kind enough to be keeping up a running list of Articles about the campaigns -- so if you have the time and want to go catch up on some articles, please checkout the guide below and visit this google doc for the list!

4. Make Calls

Contact Netflix and say why you love OFMD

You can call them at (844) 505-2993 as well and let them know about a hoard of pirates looking for a new home. You're welcome to try their toll free number as well (888) 638-3549

5. Daily Link Clicks to keep up engagement

Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia Page

Google Search for Our Flag Means Death

Google UK Search for Our Flag Means Death

Our Flag Means Death IMDB

Current @renewasacrew Daily Links:

Tumblr

Twitter

Instagram

For Industry specific help see @TheCozyPirate on Twitter as well. I will try to include any pertinent information in the Daily Recap or here, but if you have twitter they're a great resource

== RADIO! ==

Some awesome new suggestions from @AdoptACrew Check out the thread here. Link to the NPR suggestion site: Here

=== Staying a Polite Menace to Max ===

For those of you who are still up for it-- We are still contacting Max and Commenting on their posts. Thank you @asgardian--angels for the reminder! I'll update this section with more details tomorrow once we have some more.

Current focus with Max is less requesting Renewal and more to Expressing Disappointment about them cancelling marginalised Stories (OFMD, Rap Sh!t, etc), specifically to give them bad PR.

We're still letting Casey Bloys and David Zaslav know no peace.

As usual please be polite, we're not letting max off the hook, but Monday there will be a news article coming out regarding this (Source: Jac (@TheCozyPirate) on Twitter))

==Media Resources (Pics, Gifs, Vids)==

Gifs, Pics, and Videos to use: show clips to use Src: @havethisonelife

Our lovely @kiwistede made some great custom gifs you can use to tweet and message the platforms with. Check out their tumblr here

== Stats ==

Some Cool Stats you can use:

==Infographics==

Some folks like infographics instead of text so here's some stuff for you! Courtesy of @edandstede on Twitter

I have a limited amount of pictures I can put on one post so here is a google drive with more: Google Drive

==Other ideas for engagement:==

Courtesy of @sandwrite2 on Twitter

[skyburger]

forgot people really truly genuinely dont like the music on the radio in the early 2010s Wait. Ohmy god hang on i was looking up the top 100 so i could look at them across the years and the default is obviously the current top 100 and i need to stress out of the top ONE HUNDRED songs. about a THIRD are taylor swift songs (32/100). only two of these are below the top 50 (51 & 55, so. barely.) Thirty Fucking Taylor Swift Songs are in the billboard top 50. all of the top 10 are taylor fucking swift. doesnt even matter what i was gonna say because literally any other variety of stuff being in the top 100 is better than literally a third of it being taylor swift

^^^ do you understand why i put this in a reblog. diehard swifties are scary

holdon i have to put a ramble in the reblogs of this so peopledont find me in the tags (will make sense when i reblog)

[csuitebitches]

How To Make Full Use of Networking Events

Networking events and conferences are great because you get to meet and learn from experts but also connect with peers. I recently attended one and I wanted to share things I wish I had done before and what I learned.

1. Define an Objective

You have to determine why exactly you want to go to the event. Are you looking for a career change? A job? Advice on how to be better at your current job? How to tackle some issues in your start up? Networking? Make a list of the reasons.

2. Research

You need to research the speakers extensively. Go over their Wikipedias, LinkedIns and other social medias. Read their company websites from top to bottom. If they’ve released a book, take a look at the summary and read the reviews. Read some of their published articles.

Take this time to prepare at least 3 questions per speaker. Try to make at unique and interesting as possible, don’t ask the usual generic ones.

3. Business Cards

Definitely carry business cards. Make sure that your email, LinkedIn is mentioned clearly. Even if you work at a different company, that doesn’t matter- show your job title on the business card. Better yet, ask your HR if they can give you business cards as you would be promoting their company through your event. If you’re a student, I’d recommend you make a portfolio website of your internships/ project/ past work/ volunteer work/ hobbies/ interests.

4. Actually Talking

During the event, don’t be shy to ask questions. It doesn’t matter whether the rest of the audience thinks they’re stupid. You have spent your money to come there for your gain. Make full use of it. Ask questions. Meet the speaker after the event. Thank them for the insight, introduce yourself, ask them questions related to your objective of coming to the conference. Exchange business cards.

5. Utilising Coffee Breaks

Coffee and lunch breaks are a great way to talk to people. You may feel shy or awkward to talk to new people, but there’s very high chances that they feel the same way. You can start off by asking someone how they heard about the event, what they thought of the speaker, or pass a remark on the question they asked the speaker. Keep in mind that if the event has multiple speakers, there could be a chance that you’re talking to a speaker, even if you don’t recognise them… so be on your best behaviour.

6. Questions

Ask questions that are beneficial to you. During my conference, we had a women-leaders panel. An audience member asked the speakers how they divided their work between family and work. The speakers looked visibly annoyed at the question - because how generic is that?

Ask questions that could help you grow. If you’re in marketing, ask about their tried and tested marketing strategies. If you’re an early stage founder, ask them how they sourced their VC. If you’re struggling with time management, ask the speakers how they manage. Ask the questions for YOUR own benefit.

You can ask difficult questions but make sure you do it respectfully and tactfully. Best to start with a compliment and then ease into the question.

7. Dressing

Business casual, unless mentioned otherwise. What this means: blazer/ jackets/ trousers/ pencil skirts/ shirt/ co-ord sets/ no sneakers.

It doesn’t matter what other people wear. The way you present yourself is your brand. It also shows the respect you have for the other person - you respect them enough to not come shabbily dressed.

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 5

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

Reading your own Wikipedia page is quite a strange experience. Paragraph after paragraph of your life written on the internet for everybody to see, from the day you were born all the way to this very moment. 

You do not know if the fact that none of it is true is for better or worse. 

Some parts are accurate, information about your hometown, date of birth, relatives' names and... that’s about it really. According to this biography, not only have you been the runner-up for a Formula 3 championship, but you are also a Formula 2 champion, which is good you guess, for someone that did not even know those kinds of competitions existed. As of two hours ago, Formula One was the only championship with those kinds of cars you had ever heard about, but there are so many. Too many actually. In a section of your page named ‘junior racing career’ —which is in itself a crazy sentence to read—, it even says something about karting’s championships and an academy thing, concepts you are not sure if you want to understand. 

Oh, and the most important part, you are a Formula 1 driver, a statement endlessly repeated throughout the text. They even claim this to be your second year on the motorsport, ‘not a rookie anymore’ they say, as if yesterday’s race was not the first one you have ever watched from start to finish. 

Still, if being pushed into a Formula One car and a whole Wikipedia page was not enough of a confirmation, you can find a million articles online that certify your participation in the sport. Webs filled with photos of you with the cars, dressed in full gear and with that stupid blue helmet, the situation getting worse and worse with every tap of your finger. 

How is any of this possible? 

The rabbit hole that seems to be your ‘life’ keeps you awake night after night, new information slapping you in the face every two minutes while you try to navigate what appears to be a Formula One driver’s normal schedule. Nick makes sure of that last part at least. 

The first step on that agenda had been to fly out of Austria, a place you cannot comprehend how you had arrived to when you were in Spain just yesterday. It is not like you were having the best time of your life there, finishing the third month of your external internship in a city you thought was already too far away from home, but this change looks a bit excessive. The possibility of being in a completely different country had seemed so absurd at first, when a list called Austrian GP came up as one of the top results in your research, and yet with a simple look to the navigation app, your worst nightmare had been confirmed. From your trip to the airport, to the arrival to another country, France, and to a new hotel, Nick walking you through every step of the process and only leaving you alone once you are back in the hotel room. 

The next few days follow a similar dynamic, mornings spent trailing behind Nick without a clue of what happens around you and long nights glued to the phone, the date for the next GP —or whatever they call it— getting closer and closer.  

You are not ready to repeat last Sunday’s events, an engine failure had saved you from the inevitable end, but you might not be so lucky next time. There is no way you are stepping into that car again, that is for sure, and even less so when you have not figured out what brought you here in the first place.  

Although you had drowned yourself in information about your supposed life the first nights in France, the need to discover what was happening to you had quickly managed to overpower that curiosity. From the moment Nick knocks on your door early on the morning to the hours you lay awake on bed looking for anything that could explain this madness, you spend every second of the day looking for an explanation.  

A kidnapping had been the most credible theory from day one, the way you had woken up to all those screams and the men surrounding you, how Nick had come into your hotel room that morning and pushed you to drive with no regard for your safety. It made sense. However, the articles posted all over the internet told a very different story. There is too much information about you, some posts even dating back to when you were a child, photos and videos that cannot be simply edited and uploaded to make you believe you have gone crazy. You have driven a Formula One car on an official race, for crying out loud, that is not something anybody can orchestrate. 

To be honest, the whole Formula One thing had knocked down quite a few of your guesses. What could someone gain from making you, a nobody, believe they are a motorsport driver?   

In fact, the only theory that could easily explain everything that had happened to you in the past few days is that: none of this is real. A dream. You can vividly remember dozing off on your bed, that sensation of falling down and then suddenly waking up in that unfamiliar place. It could be the reason why you had blacked out when the car exited the garage, why everyone knew you, and could also explain the existence of all those false stories on the internet.  

You had made all of this up. 

That had indeed been one of your first assumptions, or at least had been an easy way for your mind to let go of all the worries in such an unnerving situation. If this was not real, there was nothing to stress about, no danger in sight. Your alarm will go off any moment now and you will be one day closer to ending this internship and going back home. Tomorrow will be a new day. 

Despite this, as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder to hold onto this happy thought. 

Stepping foot into the new track is a breaking point. It is Friday, five days have gone by and nothing has changed, the countdown to the next race weighting down on your mind as you walk through what Nick had called the paddock. It is that strange street again, the one lined by those colorful buildings but in a completely different country —another clue that this was indeed not real, you were clearly lacking imagination to be recycling sceneries like this. 

They had brough you here yesterday as well, for a tour around the track that had set your nerves alight. Thankfully, you had done nothing but wander around the circuit for a while, be surrounded by a couple cameras, have a meeting with the engineers and go back to the hotel for another sleepless night.  

Maybe you should sleep more —which sounds quite contradictory when you are supposedly already dreaming— because, when the events of last Sunday start repeating themselves, you do not even have the strength to push back. Nick manages once again to lure you into the white building and prepare you for what he calls practice, but the reality is that just the sight of that Formula One car on the garage makes you heart drop to the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t worry about times,” a man who has been following you all day says “Let’s see if everything feels good first and we’ll talk things over for FP2”.  

A lot of changes had been made to the car since Austria, that is what all the meetings had been about. You had silently sat down through all of them, nodding along to the engineers’ words as if you understood any of it. 

Now that you are seated in the car, blue helmet and jumpsuit on, you can only wish that whatever broke the car in Austria has not been fixed. That the engine won’t even start, and you will have to retire again. It is hard enough to listen to the rest of the cars exiting their own garages, their engines revving like they might explode.  

How they have managed to put you on the spot yet again, that you do not understand. And it is not only a one-time thing, but they easily make you jump in the car later the day for a second practice. 

When you are finally helped out of the car the second time, body uncontrollably trembling and a static sound filling your ears, you feel an unusual sense of calmness. The whole ride had felt like such a clear sign that none of this is real, it can’t be. Both practices had gone by in the blink of an eye, just like it had happened in Austria, a fade to black and you are back where you started. You do not even remember seeing other cars on the road or how you got back to the garage. Nothing. The only proof that you had driven around for hours being the fatigue consuming your body, something that backs the dreaming theory up so perfectly. 

They say you have done great though, so that is something.  

Nevertheless, it feels nice to be back on normal clothes, like there is less of a target on your back for the cameras and other strangers, but it is still difficult to keep a low profile when you are walking through the paddock with the team’s merchandising. Nick is guiding you out to the last meeting of the day, after you have fulfilled all the media duties and team reunions that have kept you on the track since your arrival this morning. He says this driver’s briefing thing should not last long, that it is quite late already, and they are probably thinking more about going back home than anything.  

The meeting is on another building, one you had not even noticed in your two days here, Nick leading you inside and up some stairs until you find the meeting room. When he opens the door, you realize there is already people seated inside, the sound of their mixed talks now filling the long corridor. You recognize some of them, not from the team meetings but from Austria, other drivers.  

The room is furnished as a classroom, a projector on the right wall and the rest of the space filled with rows of chairs. There are not many people in it yet, Nick had said it would be better to get there early before people start crowding the entrance and now you understood why. Your gaze instantly zeroes in on Lewis, a tiny smile pulling at your lips while Nick guides you to some seats, deciding to leave your things with him and go say hello. You have not seen him since Austria, after you had spent the entire pre-race ceremony talking to him, and now that you have kind of ruled out the possibility that he is a kidnapper, you have realized that maybe he was just being nice. 

Yet, before you can take more than two steps away from Nick, you feel someone pulling at your hand. You come to a sudden stop, looking back to see a man seated in the row in front of you and Nick’s seat regarding you with a huge grin on his lips. He has dark hair and big brown eyes that seem to be staring into your soul. 

“Oh c’mon, you’re not even going to say hello because I didn’t get you cookies last week?” the man chuckles, tilting his head as he looks up at you like he cannot believe what you were about to do “Isn’t that too much?” 

Even though his tone is light and jokey, you cannot help but frown at him. Why would you greet him when you don’t know him in the first place? And why is he holding your hand? 

Instead of letting go when you stand there in silence, too stunned to react to his words, he decides to pull you down into the seat next to his “Didn’t Charles get you some? You are being greedy at this point” he jokes once you are seated, not a word leaving your lips. 

Oh, Charles, you remember him from Austria as well. Actually, he was wearing the same exact red shirt as this man, a detail that the abrupt start of the conversation had left you blind to. The Ferrari logo in both his chest and cap are even more of a telltale of who he must be. Charles’ teammate. 

“They were nice...” you respond, crossing your legs and relaxing back on the chair now that you have gathered your bearings. It is true, you had been munching on those cookies throughout the race after your disqualification, Nick bringing them over to you as a treat to distract you. 

The man shakes his head in disbelief, smile widening as he assures you “I'll get you a full basket next time, don’t worry” 

The promise genuinely makes you smile, he seems nice. 

“How’s the car doing?” the man queries, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around 

You can almost feel the media training kicking in, pre-made phrases hanging off the tip of your tongue, they have been putting a microphone in your face and asking you about it all morning. Nonetheless, you manage to push it all down, it finally feels like you are having a normal conversation after this stressful week, you are not about to parrot the engineers' words for the millionth time “Well, it hasn’t caught fire yet...”  

The man seems to like that answer, letting out a giggle and a “That’s an improvement” while he nods in understanding. There is a moment of silence that follows, his eyes set on your face as if he was waiting for something that does not come. Is he expecting a more in-depth response or something? Yet, before you can decide on what to do, he finally wills himself to say what he has been thinking ever since you entered the room “So... are you feeling better?”  

The question catches you off guard at first, the conversation taking a more serious turn than you had expected —or wanted. Should you say you are great, just to shut down the topic entirely? The room is filling up with people by the second and it is not like you are about to open your heart to a total stranger. Or are you supposed to give the same response Nick had made you repeat over and over again in front of the journalists? ‘I’m perfectly fine now, it was pure exhaustion’. 

“I’m-” you start saying, mind not really having decided on what lie to tell, when someone pats your head. 

You rise your head to look behind you, both to see who it is and to get away from their touch —what is with this people taking such liberties?—, the man by your side doing the same. Standing tall behind your row of chairs is none other than the man you have spent day and nights thinking about: Daniel. 

“Ready for the two hours briefing?” he sighs with a raised eyebrow, his hand traveling down to your shoulder when you turn your body around to talk to him. This is the first time you have seen the man out of that bright orange jumpsuit, now sporting a shirt of the same color instead, logos drawn all over it. He is still wearing that matching cap though. 

“So dramatic...” the man seated by your side snickers, the previous chat seemingly forgotten “We should do a twenty-four-hour briefing just for you” 

“Mate,” Daniel says with a half-smile, pointing at you with a tilt of his head “she wasn’t here last year” 

That must mean something you do not understand because it is all the man in red needs to groan out loud, his face falling in defeat at the prospect of having to sit through such a long meeting. On the other hand, you can only sit there with your eyebrows furrowed, Nick had assured you would be out of here in no time. And of course you were not here last year, or ever, you have not- but your inner monologue gets suddenly interrupted by the one phrase you have been telling yourself all day: none of this is real, you’re dreaming. 

“What? No, she was driving here last year” another voice joins the conversation, his statement sharp and direct. You lean your body forward to see who it is, he has taken a seat on the other side of the man in red and his body is blocking the stranger’s face, eyes widening when you recognize him. Charles. 

“It was still Mazepin in France, he almost crashed into Kimi remember?” Daniel corrects him with a side grin “She started after the break in... was it Silverstone?” 

Daniel looks at you for confirmation on this one, the other two men also lowering their gaze to yours, waiting. You are so overwhelmed though, it feels so strange, the fact that they are talking so categorically about things that have not ever happened. What is Mazepin? Kimi? And Silverstone? What break? The pressure of the situation getting to you in the worst possible moment. 

So you end up doing what you do best, nod along to whatever the other person says even though you do not understand anything. That is what you have done to the engineers, to the media, to Nick and now to these three men before the start of a briefing that you won’t understand a word of either.  

Afterall, none of this matter, this is only a dream, right? 

Next Chapter

___

Author's note: Thanks a lot for all the hearts, comments and everything! I'm so happy you're liking the fic

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin

[andromedathelovely]

hiii i saw ur list and before requesting i just wanted to tell u we have so many fandoms in common slay!!!

okay now abt requesting: may i ask hcs of sanji with a balkan s/o please?

character headcanons PT. 1☽｡⋆

sanji x balkan!reader headcanons

rating: any!

warnings: n/a

A/N: hiii!!!! omg yayyy!! (that means we have the best taste) also thank-you for requesting, i was so excited to research Balkan traditions and culture and I hope I did them justice! I tried to be vague when picking a specific country to research, i took inspiration for the readers 'hometown' more from the countries that bordered the sea (Croatia, Bulgaria, and Albania!) I also took a bit of Greek influence, since through my research of the Balkan Peninsula, Greece sometimes was included (but also sometimes not lol). I also wanted it to be more 'Mediterranean'/Beach-y since i think that it would fit very well in the One Piece world. this is more of a before the reader and sanji get together headcanon list, but I can make another post with more headcanons too! i focused a lot on the food side of Balkan Culture since... its Sanji. i also tried to cite my sources, a big sorry to Henry Cavill since i used wikipedia so very much. but please enjoy, anon!!

100% fell in love with you at first sight

like, immediately after meeting you he started following you around your small coastal village like a lost puppy dog

i personally think at first he would just stare at you, not in a creepy way, but an in-awe sort of way

then he would shamelessly flirt with you, (AKA a little bit of 'something sweet for someone sweet')

for sure making the rest of his crew groan in annoyance, and roll their eyes

i'd imagine the reason he and his crew were in your hometown in the first place, was to anchor down and collect more rations and materials for the trip to the Grand Line

eventually, after a week or so of being in your village, Luffy would invite you to join his crew

and since you've always wanted to travel the world, you said yes but maybe it was also because of a certain blonde-haired cook?

i'd imagine Sanji would always be looking out for you once you all set sail, always making sure you are safe and whatnot aboard the Going Merry

days would be hot, and nights would seem like forever, but sanji's flirty nature and the other's hilarious chemistry would entertain you

you would spend hours conversing with sanji, sitting along barrels on the deck, watching the dark waves crash along the side of the Going Merry, the moon reflecting upon the waters dark navy sheen

he's a smoker (hot oml) so he would probably pull out a smoke every once in a while, but if you didn't like the smell, he would immediately put it out, frantically exclaiming his many apologies

sanji would definitely notice how much you missed your home and would try to cook some of your favorites

with only some rations (but enough) he would make you a plentiful amount of Balkan snacks, meals, and desserts

he would absolutely make the best tarator soup for hot days onboard, or dolmas made of squash, tomatoes, or cabbage (anything that would stay preserved below deck) ((yumm omg))

(also omg stuffed peppers, i know realistically they wouldn't have fresh meat on board but guys, i love stuffed peppers and him making stuffed peppers would make him so much more attractive to me)

i think he would definitely promise to make more of your favorite foods, once you returned to land

after a while of knowing each other, i think he would confess his feelings to you first, probably tired of being constantly dismissed as you would think he was jokingly flirting with you

(i know it took a long time for a confession, but who doesn't love a bit of banter and a chase)

things would probably be pretty much the same as before, but now he would definitely be more protective and want to spend most of his time with you

after battles with rival pirates, he would instantly be by your side

"are you alright, my love?"

"yes, i'm okay."

"are you sure? 100% sure??"

he would be a very very worried lover

sorry, i totally made this food-centered, and not exactly sanji centered lolll. I'm hungry now, Balkan foods look divine! xoxo <3