#there are a few hiccups in here but i'm pretty happy with it otherwise

[boggleoflight]

I've missed you, you know.

[nazmazh]

Okay, so, took me a little bit longer to finish the project up, and then I didn't feel so hot yesterday to sit down and write up a post about it (yay, migraines)

But, here is my finished set of popsicle stick rummy, printed with my sister's cricut, and filled in/touched up with sharpies:

(Look, I knew the alt text on these was going to take a while to write out, hence why I didn't rush to do it yesterday morning while dealing with a gnarly, throbbing migraine)

Anyway - I figured out a bunch of quirks of the cricut - Generally, and in printing on popsicle sticks specifically - As I went along. I think I've got a decent handle on it now.

Which is good, because mom's already asked me to print out a set for her friend (she was gonna handwrite them all)

I will probably make some adjustments - Definitely a darker green. Probably will adjust the kerning/spacing on the font, as some words look a little mushed up. Might also switch to a font that has bubble letters, though thinner, for non-bolded characters, so that everything gets coloured in.

But overall, I'm quite happy with how it all turned out - Only a few hiccups in printing, otherwise, everything is probably more consistent than if I'd tried to do it all by hand.

I'm also happy with the system of colours and font styles I used to try to highlight what everything was referring to. Blue = Run Green = Set Magenta (all bold & italic) = Specific card value Bold Numbers otherwise refer to the count for each set/run - eg: 1 run of 3, 2 sets of 4; 1 Set of 3 Kings.

And of course, any time a specific suit is mentioned, it's in red or black, as appropriate, and with a corresponding suit symbol - And all text relating to suits is bolded and coloured in.

I did tinker with the specific hands mentioned on the sticks - The 65 sticks in the bag with grandma's set were kind of all over the place in terms of spread of card value and suit distribution, and had patterns established but not finished out. So, I dropped some strays and added pattern-finishers.

Assuming you already have access to a cricut, the material cost is pretty cheap - It's more the time to figure everything out and get it done.

I wanted to put a set of this rummy into the prize ball thing I'm responsible for this year, but felt a little awkward about it just being essentially a couple dollars worth of popsicle sticks (with some decks of cards), so my thought was to try to make it a little more dressed up, y'know?

(I'll try to document the prize ball as I build that in the next couple of weeks too. That's a whole thing in and of itself).

[fuck-customers]

I have a positive and a negative today! I don't know if you all remember Don, the coworker who talks shit about everyone and was being shitty about my disability and my injury, and also punched a sign instead of asking us where to find our lead.

So I'm currently going to college for illustration, and I'm in my second year. I have an arrangement where during the school year I come back to work one day (8 hours, weekend) every month, so I can keep my employee discount and to have minimal hiccups in the system. Also, I've been working there for almost two years.

So for a while, Don was doing night shift, but we recently got rid of night shift because we werent making enough money to justify being open at night, and we also need more staff, so Don went back to the hours he used to do, which unfortunately overlap with mine. Despite all he has done, I still greet him politely when I see him.

When I come back, there's usually something I need to do (usually watch training videos) on the work computer in the break room, and this time it was update my vaccination status and do a self review. While I was doing the review, Don stopped in the break room to wash his hands and said started complaining that I'm only here for a few hours a month and I'm back here screwing around, and it mist be nice, just, straight up from the beginning. I calmly told him that, as he knew, I was going to school (not super far but far enough), and I didn't have a car. Then he said, "it's art school, it's not even real school." Obviously, this was annoying. First of all, he had no reason to be talking to me like this, secondly, literally anything manmade had to be designed by someone so maybe reconsider how important you think art is. Would you like to live in a world with no art? Even just no recreational or decorative art?

Also, Don should already know about this stuff, because I literally trained him. And over the summer I do regular hours. This is pretty normal for a college student? He also was saying "oh well Judy's a student and she does 40 hours." Well, first of all, I'm part time. Second, Judy has a car. Like I said. I don't. Also, how do I know that Judy isn't going to a local college or doing online classes? I don't have time to come in for my regular hours even if I had the means to get here, because I've been so damn busy with classes, one of which requires me to be at the school outside of class because I physically cannot do the work otherwise.

Also, would rather not have me at all? Would you rather be one cashier short? Would you rather do everything yourself? I get to work on time, I do my job, I leave when my shift is over. The manager literally told me to do the stuff on the computer because I won't be there any other day. Saturday afternoons/evenings are busy. I'm happy to let you do this on your own asshole.

Anyway, I told him that if he was going to say things like this to me, then he should probably just not talk to me, and he got pissy about that, and during all this another employee had walked in and kind of stood up for me as much as he could without starting trouble.

I ended up talking to the manager about him again, and he said he'd give him one more talk, and if that didn't work, he'd get HR involved, because it's literally every damn day, and I'm not the only one who has problems with him.

Now the positive.

I've not been getting very much sleep because of how busy I am with school, and on Thursday night I got a huge migraine because of that, and couldn't finish my work for next day because of how bad it was. (My professor said it was fine and even let me skip the critique/first half of class to rest.) The migraine is gone, but I've been getting ghost migraines when I stand up for too long, which obviously would be a problem for an 8 hour shift, but I texted my manager and he said it was fine if I ran to the break room whenever I needed to sit down. (He didn't want me to bring a chair to the register unless I Really had to, and honestly that's fair, the chairs take up too much space back there and are a little too low for the register.) My other coworker and the lead for the night were also super understanding about it, and no one was mad or even passive aggressive about it. Probably helped that both of them take smoke breaks. I also wasn't forced to come in, either. If I didn't feel up to it I think the manager would have let me stay home and reschedule my shift. He let's me decide which day of the month I come in, and the hours, even though I've never done Saturday evenings, and I leave an hour before close instead of staying.

Anyway, this ask is getting too long, and I hope it works because tumblr sucks.

[jimmycoded]

1k words, dean’s 15x20 death speech reworked into a wholesome moment where dean is helping sam prepare for the ceremony. wincesties i will torch you. 

Dean watches as Sam adjusts his tux with a deep and nervous breath. Dean shakes his head with understanding. Just over one month ago he was in the exact same state. He knows there's nothing he can say to abate the nerves, but he most certainly still has something to say.

"Take a deep breath, Sammy," he says, walking over to give Sam a clap on the back and swing him around to look in his brother's eyes. "Remember - I don't know how - but you knew it was always gonna end like this for us. It's supposed to end like this, right?" he seeks Sam's eyes and waits for a terse but honest nod. There's an adjacent conversation happening that they both barely dared to dream could happen.

"I mean, look at us," Dean removes his hand from Sam's shoulder to fiddle with his wedding ring, "Saving people, hunting things... that's all we used to do, used to be... We had one hell of a ride, man," they share a short laugh. "No going back, okay? You know... you know that would end bad." We're out of the life for good. And that's... that's good. It was meant to be this way. Or it wasn't! The universe sure seemed to think otherwise. But this is our story now.

"Trust me Dean, I have no intention to." Well, that still stings a bit. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know... I guess I'm also telling myself. This is all new for me, too, ya know." I am still learning to be happy.

"Yeah, Dean... I do." It's Sam's turn to hold Dean's shoulder, though his eyes are elsewhere. With a sniffle, his gaze turns downwards.

"Okay, my tough guy voice is fading pretty quick, so... there's a few things that I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you," he ducks to catch Sam's eyes. If he's gonna do this, Sam better see it. Sam looks up with a smile. "Yeah, there he is. I'm so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you," yep, yep, his resolve is dropping, but he doesn't care, "Man, when we were kids, you were so damn smar..." Dean sniffles, "Smart. You never..." a hiccup, "You never took any of dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been." I learn from you every day. I learn from the lessons you tried to teach me years ago. 

Sam just nods, tears well formed, encouraging Dean to keep going.

"Did I ever tell you... Did I ever tell you that night that, uh... that I ca..." fuck it, I'm commiting to this, tears and all, "That I came for you when you were at school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip? I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say. I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead." His laugh is empty and he breaks eye contact. It's Sam's turn to chase Dean's eyes. He looks at his brother with a hint of disbelief - not just how ridiculous Dean's assumptions were, but that they're having this conversation at all. Man, being in love has really softened Dean up. Man, being in love has really softened me up.

"And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared. I was scared, 'cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me." The road ahead looks so uncertain without you by my side. "It's always been you... and me." All the same, Dean fiddles with his ring, an act of self-soothing for the life Dean knows they are both growing out of and adoring gratitude for the lives they are growing into. Bittersweet, like all good things are.

"Dean, I'm nervous... all this is so new, so unbelievable. It feels like I'm in a Djinn dream just... waiting." Dean understands - he's shared the sentiment. And the experience.

"Give me some credit. If this were a Djinn dream, I'd've gotten you out by now, time warping be damned." They share another weepy laugh. It's gonna be hard not living to protect you. "Things are gonna be different, man. I dunno how often we're gonna see each other, but..." and that's exactly it, isn't it? They're moving on - onwards and upwards.

Dean looks up with renewed confidence and snatches Sam's tastefully emerald tie. "I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you... Right here... every day. Every day you're out there and you're Li... And you're living and you're loving, 'cause you... You always keep loving. You hear me?" I have no doubts you will, Sammy.

"Dean..."

Looping the tie with practiced fingers, saturated with the neglected hope now renewed that this moment is possible. "I'll be there every step." Even though... well... I won't. Not really. "I love you so much." Dean tightens the knot and looks up with a sigh. His tears are warm with pride. "My baby brother."

That's when Sam's resolve officially breaks. Dean pulls him into a hug.

"Oh, man... I did not think this would be a day. But it is. It is, and that's... Man... that's crazy. I need you to... I need you to promise me," Dean gently pushes Sam away to look back in his eyes. "I need you to... To... to tell me... that it's okay. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

That we've reached a denouement. A destination. That we're still figuring out who the fuck we are outside of the life. That we aren't responsible for saving the world anymore. That we're not the same people we were years ago.

That Cas and I are deeply in love. That you and Eileen are perfect for each other. That we're all so damn happy. That you and I are gonna be apart more often than we're gonna be together. That we're always gonna be brothers. That it's no longer just us. That what we have found is better.

"Dean… it's okay," Sam's voice is surprisingly strong, "We can let go now."

thanks for reading! please remember that reblogs feed the soul :^)

[bluedemon1995]

Hope you like this latest chapter. I think, I'm almost done with this one. Please comment and let me know what you think. I'Ve gone back to rotating my focus so hopefully you follow all my stories!

Pidge POV

While everyone is busy planning Pidge can't keep her eyes off Matt. His hair is longer than hers, pulled back in a messy pony tail. She vaguely remembers her mom scolding him and saying she was going to cut his hair if he didn't go with dad to the barber. It's funny how memories are popping up now when he's right in front of her. He has a scar on his forehead but otherwise looks very similar to her. Same eye color, same hair. Hell, his is probably nicer than hers.

It's like she's in some strange alternate universe. But if she being honest... it was also very scary. Because, if one thought about it rationally, everything she thought she knew for the last ten years was a lie.

Everything.

She wasn't alone. She wasn't an orphan. And isn't that the rub. She could've had a family, all this time. It could have been her and Matt. It makes her sad to think what she missed out on. Birthdays, holidays, or anniversaries of the accident. Where she suffered alone. And even when Lotor was with her he never really understood. He never realized what she felt or was going through. And looking back, she could see he didn't even really try to pretend for her either. And that just made her feel so much more alone.

At some point she would just hide away in her room and work herself to sleep. She felt like she was in a tunnel suddenly, with her breath hiccuping and her vision wavering. Oh God, she can't breathe.  She had to get up. She had to move. But then she ... felt an arm slip around her shoulders and pull her close. Warmth. Heat. Her heart rate started to sync...Keith. He was here. He was real.

And she didn't care that he was FBI or law enforcement. Because with him she didn't feel alone.

She was not alone. She turned in his arms and just held on. It's funny how someone she only knew for such a short period of time could mean so much to her. Yet here she is. Surrounded by people who are on her side. And Keith.

Re-centered, she focused back onto the conversation going on around her. Glad for once there were so many people in the room. It was a few hours after the big reveal and while Keith's apartment was cramped with so many people, for once it didn't make her feel like running or hiding away. Hunk had prepared a spaghetti dinner complete with homemade bread and salad. It was hilarious when Lance questioned Keith having the ingredients for bread and Hunk sheepishly admitted to stocking his pantry, 'for emergencies'.

When she looked at Keith, he whispered, "I didn't even know I had a pantry!"

And when Lance was outraged that he didn't have a stockpile. Hunk replied that since Lance technically still lives at home, his mom has their place well stocked! Then there was Krolia and Kolivan. Kolivan finally returned with his report and Pidge could see how he'd fit in the the biker gang image. He was a tough guy but when he spoke he was so quiet and calm. It just inspired her trust in him.

Then of course, there was Matt. He was nearby, constantly finding excuses to touch her arm, hand or shoulder. It was odd. She wasn't a touchy freely person and yet, she was so happy that he seemed happy to have found her too. Despite what she had been involved in. Finally dinner in hand, they  were seated all around various parts of Keith's living room.

Finally, I voiced a concern that was nagging at me. "Shiro, have we ever...met? I feel like I recognized your voice somehow? Or even your...shape?"

Matt replied, loudly, "Shiro and I were gaming friends long before we ever met. So, I would be playing games with him and you'd be in my room. So you probably did hear him but I don't think you ever saw him. But after the accident and rehab, I mentioned I needed to go to school and he convinced me to go to the same school as him. So, with nothing left to lose I did. I have a family picture of us, so Shiro has seen you before. Plus, let's be honest, we sorta look alike."

Pidge nods, "That makes sense. Unfortunately that's about the only thing that does."

Matt counters, "Okay, now that we are fed. We need to focus. Plan. I'm betting Lotor's dad is behind this. But Katie, do you think Lotor knew as well?"

She thought about it but replied, "Probably not. His dad does not respect him and they aren't close. At all, so I cannot imagine him telling a pre-teen Lotor anything. Maybe he encouraged him to be my friend but nothing overt."

Shiro nods, "Okay so why?"

Everyone is quiet, thinking.

Keith POV

"Let's take it from a slightly different angle. How did Zarkon benefit? He's pretty self serving. There is no way he didn't get something out of this."

Matt picks up, "Yeah, I'm thinking it has to do with the project my dad was working on. Some kind of weapon. I know once he died, the project did too."

Keith counters, "Then why separate you two? What are we missing? What does Zarkon desire or want?"

"Money, every bad guy wants money." stated Lance firmly.

Hunk countered, "Power, he likes to be the big kahuna. Maybe this weapon would have cost him that."

More answers were kicked around when Pidge interjects, "Control. From what I see Zarkon lives for control. In every aspect. So by causing the accident, he needed to control for the outcome or at least several outcomes. No one could have predicted Matt would be thrown from the car or I would be stuck in it. Let's be honest, people survive accidents all the time. But he prepared for all possibilities. Sooooo, that means he got something out of it. But what did he gain control of? I didn't get any money. Or things.”

Keith guesses, "Maybe he knew that the weapon mission would fail but he also knew that your dad got much farther than maybe he imagined. Do we know what the weapon was?"

Matt replied, "I tried looking into it but I couldn't get further than it was a top secret project. I've hacked into several sites over the years looking for more data but it's very cryptic. In fact it doesn't even sound like a weapon at all. More like an organic compound really. So

"That's it!! I remember mom being a gardener but really she was probably a botanist. So Zarkon has control of all drugs running in and out of Galra City. And if anyone wants in they need to bow to him. He's expanded his network and this is what Lotor was trying to beat him at. Althea. But what if there was a way to diminish his hold? What if they created something that was a weapon only in the hand of the Garrison or police? I remember her telling me that nothing is untraceable. And no one is untouchable.”

Krolia speaks up, "Zarkon has a big footprint. If we could know what drugs are his and track it someway, it would go a long way in stopping the flow. But his network of them getting the drugs into the country is, well a mystery. If we could figure that out. Well, that would be a game changer."

Everyone is quiet. Finally, Katie looks up, "So Matt, I think you need to show me what you have. If our parents were killed over this, well, they had to be close."

Matt nods, "Definitely."

Hunk interjects, "Uh, I could probably help. I'm really good at making things or finding patterns."

Keith grins, "Well, while you guys figure the item, why don't the rest of come up with a battle plan or trap?"

[unpopular-cryptid]

Don't Tell Women To Be Ladylike. Don't Tell Men To Be Manly. Some Of Us Don't Like It.

During bus ride

Me: *little burp*

Woman beside me: Dear aren't you going to say excuse me? It's only lady like you know.

Me: Of course, excuse me.

Like five minutes later...

Me: *hiccups*

Woman: You know, men find that very unattractive and immature.

Me: Excuse me.

I felt very bad about myself at this point. I couldn't quietly hiccup without being reprimanded by this woman who must have been in her late thirties.

About three minutes passed. I yawned and leaned my head against the window, as it was cool.

Woman: Dear, your posture-

Me: *sits up*

Her: Maybe cover your mouth when you yawn?

Man in front of us: Maybe cover your mouth when you have something judgemental to say?

Now at this point I believe the three men sitting behind us were also well aware of the words this woman was saying, and what did they do?

They started burping.

They started laughing about it.

One of them yawned loudly. Another stretched out in his seat.

The woman. Didn't say. Anything.

Apparently it's okay for men to do that? But not women?

The man in front of us didn't think so.

"Show some respect boys. If this woman can't burp then neither can you."

I know that hadn't been the intention of the men but they stopped anyways.

Eventually the woman stopped pointing out everything I should change, and got off the bus.

What made me happy is when the three men went to get off a few stops later, each had their own piece to say.

"Don't feel self conscious about your hiccups. They're cute."

"Give me a high five cuz that burp was a straight ten outta ten!"

"No offense but you look like a lion when you yawn. It's rad."

I was smiling and I thanked each of them (even the one who said I looked like a lion).

Eventually it was my stop and I stood to leave.

Four girls, sporting piercings, tattoos, and pitch black hair stood up.

"Don't let that lady get to you."

"You're fine just the way you are."

"If I had a dollar for every inappropriate comment that lady made, I'd buy us all a coffee."

"She's sat next to us before. We know what you're going through."

As I began to leave, the man who had told her to keep her opinions to herself also had something to say.

"It's not right for anyone to try to change you, simply just because you don't meet their expectations. It goes for men and women. You be who want to be. Don't let the world change you in any way."

And he's right.

No one has the right to tell you that you shouldn't wear that shade of pink. No one has the right to tell you who to love. No one. Including you. You cannot tell others what to wear, what to say, when to say it. You want to wear a crop top? Fuckin rock that crop top. Wanna wear a pink shirt guys? Fucking do it. Hey guys, afraid to wear makeup cuz it isn't "manly"? That shade of lipstick and that eyeliner? It looks amazing on you. Yo women! Afraid to go out because you think people will call your dress slutty? Don't be. It's beautiful. Got some flab on your stomach? So what. Your shape is yours and yours alone. Afraid women won't go for you because you aren't six foot, not muscular, and your eyes aren't "pretty"? You're right. You're eyes aren't pretty. You aren't muscular. You aren't six foot.

You are a beautiful human being (or unicorn. I'm not assuming here).

Your eyes? They are fucking beautiful and don't you dare argue.

Degrading women is wrong.

Degrading men is wrong.

Degrading anything and anyone, is wrong.

If someone calls you a bitch or a fag, you can fight back. But don't degrade them as a person.

Don't yell "I'm not a fag! You're an asshole! You're a terrible person!"

Yell "I'm whatever the hell I want to be!"

We could all change the world if we just treated each other equally. There are so many people who want to make a change, but we aren't doing it. We have to people. No one else will change the world. Not without us.

My grandfather once told me that I am not the rock, I do not change the flow. I am simply the water. I go where the rocks lead me.

Well guess what. I found out in third grade that

Water. Shapes. The. Rock.

It's called erosion Grandpa.

If someone is gay, or lesbian, don't taunt them about it.

They're happy. Let them be happy.

Don't tell bisexuals that they're confused, or "need to pick one".

How about I walk up to you, straight male, and tell you to start loving men because hey, "I'm not saying being straight is wrong, I'm just saying I wouldn't do it."

How about I walk up to you, straight woman, and tell you to start loving women. Some of you say so much shit about men anyways, so why do you prefer them?

If you're going to make a point, do it respectfully.

And I admit, some people make that super difficult. But not impossible. You can do it. Or you can ignore it. But bullying, inappropriate jokes, those you don't ignore. If someone calls you an idiot at your workplace, don't encourage them by responding. They've clearly proved who the real idiot is already.

Boys. Rape is wrong. You know this. If she says no, she means no. My dog understands the word no. You should too.

Women, same for you. Don't hit men. Don't force them to do something they don't want to. Don't act innocent, there are those of you who do, and you justify it by saying you are a woman. Well no.

Abuse is not okay, not for anyone.

"I was drunk, I didn't mean it."

I guess that means you shouldn't be getting drunk.

"Oh well I mean she shouldn't have worn that."

Stop. That isn't an excuse. If men can't control themselves around women then they shouldn't be running countries.

"Don't forget who gave you the right to vote!"

Don't forget who actually had to fight for that right.

"Respect women! You can't repopulate the world otherwise!"

Men are smart too. They would find a way.

Equality. Is. Important.

No one can justify abuse. No one can justify shaming someone over their sexuality, skin colour, ideas, disabilities, or being.

Just don't.

Be nice.

Make the world better.

Grace the world with your beauty.

Be happy.

I know if we all do this, we can make the world better.

I believe in that.