#'cause it's like blatantly wrong

[coockie8]

My mom's reading an article about food that claims Poutine is a "strictly American" dish and that we, apparently, call it "Disco Fries" in Canada and I desperately wanna know where they got this information.

A 2 second google search will tell you it was invented in Rural Quebec and "Poutine" is literally a French word. Like where tf did this person get their information!??!!

[aroaceleovaldez]

HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.

The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.

[cherubheartz]

Adding onto the previous asker on why some people think mspec lesbians are harmful:

1. The most popular definition of lesbian right now is "nonmen loving nonmen" (which has a lot of problems but now isn't the time for that) and so the chronically online Twitter lgbts see someone use it "wrong" and can't mind their own business, nor can they accept that maybe "nonmen loving nonmen" isn't the ultimate, true, historical, and undisputed definition of lesbian and maybe it only came about in the 2020s.

2. Lesbian separatism is still hurting the community to this day and that's partially because of the amount of TERFs and radfems in it. The community is struggling to heal. Biphobic rhetoric, gender essentialism, and transphobia are rampant, as well as radfem fearmongering about how anyone who is a man or associates with men wants to invade their safe space, that they need to be completely free of men, and that mspec lesbians taking a place in the community is going to take resources from "real lesbians," have mspec people speak over "real lesbians," and have men think they can be with "real lesbians." A lot of non-radfem exclus have been fed this fearmongering bullshit and continue to parrot it. They are afraid of something they really don't need to fear.

3. Probably exorsexism. Because there's no good reason you can say lesbian is nmlnm but lesbians can't be mspec because "nmlnm" describes an mspec experience. Either they arbitrarily decided it doesn't count as mspec specifically so that no lesbian can call themself bisexual or they don't recognize nonbinary genders that are separate from the binary.

4. Apparently some of them decided using "mspec lesbian" to describe split attraction is appropriation of aspec people. (Start sarcasm) It is definitely good for aspec people and doesn't harm any of us especially not aces and aros for people to stop others from identifying their romantic and sexual orientations as separate. It's definitely good for us that more people believe sex and romance are inherently connected and cannot be oriented separately. (End sarcasm) Like hello we have been asking people to stop equating sex and romance for ages. It's bad for us, especially for aroallos and alloaces.

oh gosh this was so much information.

to add onto this. i'm simultaneously non-binary + aroacespec + lesbian. so this rhetoric is smacking me in the face too. good to know

i remember i used to be an "i hate men" person, but i realized a while ago that this only hurts people, me because i'm being angry, and others because i'm angry at them. it was pointless. what was i going to fix by being angry at a group characterized by something innate about themselves just because a couple of em hurt me. absolutely NOTHING !!!

this is INCREDIBLY good to know and thank you for telling me!!! i'll have this to reference back to later :)

[always-a-joyful-note]

How do I explain this? (Spoilers for Enstars Sanctuary story)

Sanctuary is the story of a guy who woke up in a strange world with weird looking monsters and empty streets with a guy who was his former theatre club president. Except the theatre club president (implied to be a bit of a cryptid except this world definitely has no magic) had somehow mentally regressed back to his five-year-old self, which is fine because he's a genius, and now the guy and his former club president have to deal with this strange place together. But the side story is that two of his friends are being shown around what is basically a cult disguised as an amusement park to indoctrinate people into believing they can become idols and apply to work in that industry. And there's also another side story in which the guy's other friend is being harassed by a middle aged man who's kidnapped their goddess, basically, and is also the mastermind behind the overarching plot in the villainous sense. Also, the former theatre club president's new team, specifically that team's leader, is perpetuating the idol cult because he's got a twisted obsession with idols and believes that to farm them is the only way they won't be discouraged by those with exceptional talent and skill.

But in reality, this is just the story of a lonely teenager who could only find a little bit of freedom to express his abandoned child self in a messed up system that another teenager (who is very smart but just doesn't understand human relationships) created because he cares about nothing but in reality cares about everything and perpetuates a cycle of constant destruction to keep his one obsession alive.

But even further than that, Sanctuary and the whole SS ARC is just a story of a bunch of high schoolers/recent high school graduates who want to sing getting tangled up in a very dangerous mafia-esque world and sometimes realizing that they should call the police or some law reinforcement but forgetting to do so every. single. time.

[elendsessor]

the fuckin mgr 4chan discourse post has me rolling how do you look at a game about the meaning of justice/freedom being different for everyone and that moral hypocrisy exists as “we need it to be a black and white morality game we need all games to be that way”

i love media that gives you unreliable narrators or makes you play as a morally wrong individual!!! i love media that challenges your outlook or makes you try and see why some people think the way that they do!!!!!!

[internetangstar]

It never stops baffling me how confidently some people talk despite clearly missing even the most basic information about what they’re debating

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

New rule here, you use "morally grey Wei Wuxian" in any capacity that isn't sarcastic and you think he is, I'm blocking for my own sanity on sight.

[muffinapologist]

so glad making fun of The Good Doctor has come into the popular zeitgeist bc frankly they got away with that shit for way too long

[4kadhd]

Yall wanna get on ppl for using language and parroting shit right wing/republican legislators can use and twist to fit their needs and it's crazy cause like...

Random tumblr user #8674883886 ain't apart of your local government or shit that can do shit against anyone.

They have no power.

So much energy and you cant muster past the anxiety of a phone call to actually get on legislators about shit.

[eachuisge-cc]

once again the cat tails are causing some kind of conflict that only comes up when specific pants are worn. I know it must be something I'm doing but I just don't have the spiritual resilience to fight with these goddamn tails again, so I'm just remaking the package again and cloning the base game carnival mask (which they're incompatible with anyway for texture reasons) instead of the nude lower body because that superficially fixes it

[warningsine]

[mx-paint]

.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Dude I don’t know where you’re getting this information that 13-14 guys can’t be tall at all. Literally every guy in my freshman high school grade (13-15 year olds) were all 5’6-6’0 at the beginning of the school year and they were all actively growing taller as the year went by. Letting people think Nico is average height or tall is not hurting nobody and you are still entitled to your opinion that Nico can be short. I believe all of Nico’s of various heights can coexist peacefully.

I did say "average" height and was only referring to the fact that Nico's canon height is never explicitly stated. Anyways allow me to rephrase:

my grievances only lie with the wiki for being baselessly wrong. tall nico headcanoners i have no beef with you understand i am simply being silly goofy on my blog mwah mwah

[gayarograce]

god every time i read a post about an american who says or does something just... really fucking stupid when in a foreign country i feel the need to apologize on behalf of the rest of my country like i promise we're not all this stupid😭😭😭

[mebiselfandi]

.

[pathologicalreid]

You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!

Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)

Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)

puzzling | S.R.

trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3

you

It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.

On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.

Across: “Early stage of life”

Across: “American actress Frances _”

Down: “Must be finished by”

Down: “Veteran’s Day month”

You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.

Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.

“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.

He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”

Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.

Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”

Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.

“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.

There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.

Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”

You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.

“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.

Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.

Spencer shook his head, “No, you���re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.

You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.

“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.

Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.

God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.

He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.

him

The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”

Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.

Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.

The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”

“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.

Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”

Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.

The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.

It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.

Wait.

Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.

His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.

“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.

You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”

Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?

There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”

The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.

“Spencer Reid,” you countered.

He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.

It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.

You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.

“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.

Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”

He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”

A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”

A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.