#Australian Personal Computer

[monkeyislandtwo]

okay objectums come get your food (from: Australian Personal Computer February 1982)

[saintescuderia]

pancakes (pt. 2)

AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.

P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches

“Y/N Tessio?”

“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 

Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 

This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 

Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.

Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 

“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.

And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 

He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.

Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.

“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 

“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 

"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.

"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.

Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.

In Europe.

But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.

It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 

“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 

“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”

“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 

But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 

“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 

So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 

Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 

You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 

Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.

“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 

Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 

You didn’t react. 

You didn’t have to. 

All you did was keep watching the birds. 

Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.

“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 

“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 

You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 

“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 

“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”

You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”

“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”

“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 

Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 

“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 

“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.

Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.

Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan. Japan!

“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.

“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 

Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.

But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.

“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 

“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”

Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 

“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”

Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.

There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 

“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 

Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 

“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 

“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 

This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.

Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  

“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”

Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 

Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 

Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 

There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 

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taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery

[ao3lestappeninchident]

for your song x f1 oneshots can you do “hold my girl” by george ezra with oscar? 🙂

Hold my girl/Oscar Piastri

A/N: Hope this is kinda what you wanted.

Song x driver masterlist

-

~I've got time, I've got love

Got confidence you'll rise above

Give me a minute to hold my girl~

Oscar had seen you turning into a quiet, sleepy person, instead of the happy you. Your studies had been taking a toll on you lately and you didn't know how to catch up on the missed work. Dark circles have formed underneath your eyes from the lack of sleep. You eat and drink less, forgetting about it while you were buried into the books.

Oscar hated seeing you like this. You loved attending a race,supporting Oscar inside the Mclaren garage, but that did mean missing a lecture and time to do school work. He hated himself for making you feel this way. He thinks it is selfish for him to ask you to be there when you have your own stuff, even though you agreed to it.

Every time he asked you if you were okay, you would say yes. Even though he knew you weren't. He tried to have you take a break from it, eat a good meal and get enough sleep, but he couldn't make you.

When he was away he always had a bad feeling. He couldn't force you to drink that one glass or give you a fruit bowl. You were alone and probably still in the same clothes as when he left

"I am going to bed, are you coming too?" Oscar said as he leaned against the doorway. You sat in front of the computer, reading an articol about god knows what, not looking up. He made his way towards you and rested his hands on your shoulders, making you jump. "Sorry, I thought you knew i was here."

You smile weakly, "Don't worry. Did you say something?"

He placed a kiss on your head, "I am going to bed, are you coming too?"

Your eyes widen as you look at the time, was it already that late. "I have to finish this, and I will come. You don't have to waite for me." You look at him as the Australian lets out a sigh.

"Alright, but don't make it too late. You need some sleep to make that brain work." Osar walks away towards the bedroom as you return to your studies.

As his head hit the pillow, Oscar already knew he wasn't going to sleep. Not without knowing you were there too. Oscar sat a timer on his phone for 30 minutes and grabbed a book. He will get you when the timer is done.

Flipping through the pages felt like eternity without your next to him. His mind couldn't make out to words, too tired to think. He looked at the time and saw that it had only 5 minutes left. He paused it and got out of the bed.

You were still seated in the same place as a half hour ago. How couldn'the bright screen not hurt your eyes?

"You are coming to bed."Oscar stated as he walked up to your again.

"I am not done yet,"You protested, but he turned of the computer and picked you up.

"Oscar, put me down. I have to finish it." He places you and the bed.

"Please, tell me what has been on your mind. Because I hate seeing you like this and ruining yourself. The room is silent even though you are here." He says as tears formed in his eyes. You sat silently on the bed, not knowing what to say to him. " I want to help you, but you have to tell me about everything that you are going trough."

"I am sorry" you breakdown and Oscar was quick to sit next to you and hold you. "I am just so worked up into studies and I want to pass my finals. "

In the last weeks it wasn' t often that Oscar and you were asleep at the same time, ate at the same time or were in the same room. You went to bed late, and woke up early, while he was out for a run. You grabbed some yoghurt and went back to your books and when Oscar came home he had to eat alone.

He strokes your hair, "Don't be sorry. I understand your school is important, but you need sleep to function. Those 2 hours a day aren't enough, and It hurt seeing you trough it away without realizing."

"It is really hard with you being away and I don't even realize that the day is over and the sun is setting. Just because my computer was empty, I went to bed." you slur over your words a bit.

"It is okay. I just hope you are willing to take car of yourself more. Lets get you to bed and have some sleep" he says as stands up and shakes your pillow. you smile at him as you lay in bed. As soon as your face hits the pillow you let out a yawn.

Oscar went to turn the lights of, before joining you. As you lay there next to him, he wrapped his arms around you. He didn't want you to leave. The next morning you would wake up in the same positions, Oscar holding you in his arms.

[faerieroyal]

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘’𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄’𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐒 !

— ❥ 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 + 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

( warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of crying, my wishful thinking for the upcoming f1 season )

“and that’s it! oscar piastri is the winner of the 2024 australian grand prix!”

for possibly the very first time, you’re very glad you and oscar don’t have any pets; it’s entirely possible the scream you let out right at this moment would give any small animals in hearing distance a heart attack. leaping off of your bed, you let the adrenaline and pure joy of this moment overtake you, jumping all around your bedroom and whooping as you punch your fists into the air.

if you’re this excited, you muse once you’ve calmed down enough to pause and catch your breath, you can only imagine how happy and overwhelmed oscar must be feeling. he’s just won his first grand prix, and even better, he’s just won his home race.

your boyfriend has just become a formula one race winner. you wish, from the bottom of your heart, that you had a younger version of oscar standing in front of you right now, so you could tell him that all the work he was putting in would be worth it some day. you suspect that oscar himself would probably want to do the same thing.

practically flinging yourself back onto your bed, you pull your computer back onto your lap, just in time to watch max verstappen shower your boyfriend in champagne from where he stands on the second step of the podium. oscar laughs on your screen as the golden liquid pours over his shoulders and turns to spray max in return, but the camera filming him also picks up the red rimming his eyes and the tears still glistening on his face - happy tears, you can only assume, from all the emotions he must be feeling at a moment as amazing as this.

he looks strangely beautiful like this, taking a moment to drink from his own champagne bottle with skin flushed from adrenaline and emotion and glistening with overjoyed tears and champagne, and you wish desperately that you could be there with him. you’d both known going into this relationship that you wouldn’t be able to attend every race, of course, since you have a life of your own and a job that doesn’t allow you to work remotely, but that doesn’t mean not being there in person to celebrate with him after a good race or comfort him after a bad one doesn’t suck sometimes. it sucks more than ever right now, when something as fucking incredible as this has just happened and you can’t be there to give your talented, beautiful oscar a congratulatory kiss and spend the whole night telling him how proud you are of him.

once the stream on your computer switches to media interviews, you switch it off and close the laptop - as much as you want to keep watching oscar basking in the glow of his win, you know he hates media anyway, and as mean as it might be, you don’t really want to have to sit through the interviews with other drivers that will be shown before they get to your boyfriend. besides, you still have things to get done tonight while you wait for oscar to give you his usual after-race call.

it’s something you and oscar always do, after a race and the debrief and everything else he has to do on a race. normally, your facetime calls can last for hours as you talk and laugh and sometimes just stay silent, taking each other in, and they’re something you’ve come to treasure, but you’re sure your call tonight won’t last nearly as long. oscar has just won his first formula one race; no doubt he’s going to be taken out to party and celebrate the moment he’s showered and changed, and that isn’t going to leave a lot of time for a call with you. which, honestly, you’re more than fine with - you want him to go out and have fun, to celebrate his win even if you can’t be there to do it with him.

the call comes in as you’re sitting on your living room couch folding laundry, a candid picture of oscar making an exaggeratedly sour face in his mcclaren suit popping up on your phone screen. hurriedly you toss the pair of shorts you’ve been folding to the side and scoop up the phone to answer it, oscar’s beautiful, smiling face taking up your screen as the connection goes through.

“oscar jack fucking piastri,” you exclaim before he has the chance to get a word out. “how dare you win your first race without me there. i oughta break up with you right now.”

oscar chuckles, dipping his head and allowing a few stray strands of hair to fall into his face, making him look terribly soft and sweet. his hair still looks sticky with champagne and sweat, you notice; he didn’t even wait to shower before calling you.

“well, sorry about that,” he replies in an amused voice. “here’s hoping you’ll be there when i win the next one so we can celebrate properly. i mean, lando offered to give me a congrats kiss in your place, but i doubt he would’ve been any good at it.”

you lean your head back laughing at that, before agreeing, “yeah, here’s hoping. so what are you doing to celebrate? gonna show lando and logan australia’s hottest clubs?”

oscar snorts, and then says something totally and completely unexpected, at least to you: “nah. ‘m staying in tonight. would rather talk to you anyway.”

“what?” you burst out, shocked. you’ve known since you met him that oscar’s never really been one for crowded social settings, especially ones as loud as clubs tend to be, but you’d assumed this would be an exception. “oscar, you just won a fucking formula one race. your first one. and you’re not gonna go out and celebrate that?”

“i am celebrating,” he replies, completely casually, like the two of you are just talking about the weather and you’re not trying to talk him out of ditching celebrating a race win just to talk to you. “i’m celebrating by spending the whole night talking to my awesome partner who I really wish was actually here right now - or at least the whole night after i take a shower, probably, ‘cause my hair feels kinda gross right now-” he runs a hand through his locks, looking a bit sheepish. “-instead of going out and getting shitfaced and watching logan completely fail at flirting. much rather be doing this than that, i promise.”

once the shock of his plans for the night fades, you think, for a brief second, that you could honestly cry right now. here’s your boyfriend, having just achieved a dream that you know he’s been working towards since he was old enough to drive a kart, and instead of going out and drinking and dancing with his friends to celebrate… he just wants to spend the night talking to you. it’s such a simple expression of love, really, simple and wordless, but it’s so utterly tender and sweet that you wish, not for the first time tonight, that you were there with oscar right now, so you could kiss all over his beautiful face and let him know how much you love him right back.

“i mean, unless you had plans tonight,” oscar continues, completely oblivious to your adoring inner monologue, and his sheepish expression increases. “sorry, i should’ve asked, it’s totally cool if you have something else-”

“no, no,” you interrupt, shaking your head vehemently. “i don’t have any plans, it’s fine. and even if i did i’d probably cancel them. i’d rather be here with you than somewhere else, too, osc.”

oscar blinks in response to that, before a shy little half-smile takes over his face, and he asks softly, “yeah?”

“yeah,” you say with a soft smile of your own, and you hope that that facial expression conveys everything you can’t quite put into words - how much you love him, how unbelievably proud you are of him, how absolutely fucking grateful you are to have him in your life, to have someone who will do things like this for you without a second thought, because that’s just the kind of person he is.

you’re pretty sure a simple smile doesn’t convey all of that, but you’re also not sure you’ll ever be able to put all of that into words that will convey how much you mean the sentiment. so you settle, in this moment, for doing what oscar wants: you settle back into the couch cushions, bring your legs up to your chest so that you can rest the hand holding your phone on your knee, and begin, “so, you will not believe what happened at work today…”

formula one taglist: @whiskeyswriting, @lovings4turn !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

[microgeneration]

Australian Personal Computer, 1986

[pixelnrd]

your australian history inspired decades challenge sounds so fascinating!!! will you be sharing it with us, or will it be for yourself? either way i hope you have fun with it!

I have plans to share it! I’m really excited about it too because Australia and Australian history is largely ignored by the rest of the world and I want to use my platform to share something personal to me.

But a few things will need to happen before then… for one, I’m going get a new computer after the Langstons are done so I can have a healthier experience playing. I’m also going to try and really separate what I have done stylistically with the Langstons from a future project, so I’m talking a new storytelling format, new imagery, new reshade aesthetic etc. which I am working on.

I’m also still working on my research to make sure I get the sensitive aspects of the history right. I’d hate to fuck it up and cause any offence, especially as I try to respectfully navigate some of the awful parts of Australian history.

Anyway I’m really glad there is interest in my little fledgling baby project, thank you!! 💘

[too0bsessedformyowngood]

Batfam incorrect quotes pt. 6 (with some Young Justice, Titans, and other heroes thrown in there for pizzazz)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5

-

Steph and Duke: *making animal crossing characters noises*

Tim: *Sitting silently on his computer*

Damian: “I’m going to kill everyone in this room except for Thomas”

Duke: *curling over trying to hide his laughing*

Damian: “Wait was is Thomas, not Drake?”

-

Cassie: “Who are you more afraid of, Freddie Fazbear, or your teammate?”

Bart: *mumbling* “My teammate”

Cassie: “Good”

-

Dick *at titans tower*: “being in the kitchen making dinner make me feel like ���a single mom who works two jobs who has her kids and never stops’”

Gar: “it’s who loves her kids”

Dick: “No no, have is enough”

-

Duke: *over coms* “What if Jarjar’s name was actually Jojo, the person introducing him was just Australian”

Cass: “Horrible news”

Barbara: “You have lost speaking privileges”

-

Roy: “my emotional, mental, and physical health is all on thin ice”

Wally: “I aspire to have thick ice one day”

Roy: “I aspire to be the iceberg to someone else’s Titanic”

-

Damian: “Richard there is a creepy guy following me again”

Jason: *right behind Damian*

Jason: “You literally showed up outside my house yesterday”

-

Clark: *driving to Disneyland with six people in a five seater car, four are crammed into the backseat*

Clark: “All I want is a churro, all I wanted was a churro”

-

Robin Dick *passenger seat of the Batmobile*: “Why are there so many vans? And truck, but small truck not big truck, better than big truck”

Bruce *driving*: “Much better than big truck”

-

Tim: “So I was going down the hill on my skateboard, and I didn’t stop at the gate because I was going like 20mph and too afraid to stop. I thought “the grass will stop me,” but they were doing work on the grass, so there was rope all around. I realized I had three options, go under the rope, into the rope, or jump over the rope. I’m not going under because my neck, I’m not going into to I try to jump, but the thing is my jump is, *tiny jumps* wimpy. So I jump and run into the rope and my body went, *grabs a paper, folds in half.* The rope went forward and started pulling the metal rods holding it in, out of the ground and bent them. I then fell on my face. I was fine. I think I got a mild concussion though.”

-

Jason: “Being framed, been there, done that”

Barbara: “I don’t think you were framed very often, I think you just committed crimes Jason”

[pizzabox-box]

Have you noticed that I color the title in a very specific way?

Blind Man's Bluff, Part 6

Dougie Jones clicked through the film on his computer frame by frame, only vaguely listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. With the exception of the chef's conflict with His Loudness, which was honestly to be expected, the premier had gone off without a hitch. So why did the Pizzard still feel like he had missed something in his editing process?

"Dougie? Did you hear me?" Dougie jumped at the Australian voice calling his name, and glanced around the room in bewilderment. It was almost 4 am. Dougie sighed. "Apologies, Your Tawnyness, I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention," he said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. He heard a sigh on the end of the line. "Sorry about that," Mr. Orange apologized, "I guess I forgot how late it must be over there." "No, no, it's not late at all," the Pizzard chuckled dryly. "In fact, it's really quite early!"

Then he grew serious again. "And at any rate, that isn't my difficulty at the moment," he said, leaning back towards the monitor. Noise's brother sounded concerned as he asked, "Is Theo still out of it?" Dougie nodded before remembering that Mr. Orange couldn't see him. "I'm afraid so," he said, thinking to himself, maybe I am tired... Mr. Orange sighed, then continued, "Well, I'll be on the plane over there sometime tonight anyway, so I can check him out for myself when I get there. Crikey, it's been over five years since we've spoken in person, hasn't it..."

Dougie nodded in confirmation, beginning to tune the Australian out again in favor of his work. He was in the middle of that terrible fight with the blue-clad intruder, and that feeling of dread returned. Something was clearly wrong with this scene. It wasn't the fact that His Loudness had decided to keep the scene in, no, no, no. That wasn't surprising coming from the chaotic gremlin. No, it was something else...

"Well, tell Theo I'm worried about him, all right? I know he's not the uh, most stable person in the world, but this is weird, even for him!" Mr. Orange snorted to make his point. A long silence came from the other end of the phone. Mr. Orange grew concerned. "Dougie? Everything all right over there?" Still no answer. "Dougie Jones?"

The Pizzard stared at the screen in abstract horror, frozen in his seat. He couldn't look away from those frightened red eyes, being flung helplessly into oblivion. Mouth suddenly parched, he barely managed to get the words out.

"This is not Theodore Noise."

Then he felt a jolt of pain in the back of his skull, and fell to the floor unconscious.

Mr. Orange heard the body hit the ground and stood up immediately. "Dougie?! What's going on?!" he shouted, heart pounding furiously. He heard the phone get hung up, and stared at his own device in shock, trying to comprehend the last words he had heard from his brother's assistant. Horror trickled down his spine as his blood ran cold. All he knew was that he needed to get on the fastest jet in Sydney immediately.

Dougie Jones slowly regained consciousness, and glanced about himself in a daze. A few seconds later, he was wide awake as the gravity of the situation became apparent. He had been bound and gagged, and was now perched precariously on the diving board of the Noises' swimming pool. Right in front of him, tied to his feet with a short rope, was a large boulder, almost as big as he was. The sun was beginning to rise - he had been knocked out for at least two hours.

The Pizzard tried to free himself in a sudden panic. Not only had his captor tied his arms tightly behind his back, but he had taken the time to intricately bind his fingers together with sewing thread, preventing him from using any magic to escape. Clearly, the menace was a master at his craft. Dougie was unable to call for help, and it didn't seem likely that assistance would arrive in time, anyway.

"Good! You're finally awake." Dougie jumped and turned towards the voice. He saw someone who looked like the Noise laid out on a lounge chair, sunglasses on and sipping a margarita. But this definitely was not the Noise, and it became instantly apparent when the villain lifted his lenses, revealing that terrible blue eye. The Doise smirked triumphantly. "I thought that you might take all the fun out of this for a while there," he chuckled as he stood up and walked towards his captive.

Dougie glared at Doise with fury as the imposter put his foot on the large stone and looked him in the eye. "Listen, pal," the poser began, "if you hadn't decided to get all nosy on me, we wouldn't be having this conversation. The only person you have to blame for this is yourself." Doise gave a smug grin as he said this, relishing the feeling of superiority he got from the situation. Dougie trembled in rage, as he tried once more to free his hands so he could hex the killer. Doise laughed. "Keep trying, buddy! It won't do you any good."

He looked at the trapped Pizzard contemplatively, amused by how small he looked. He took a breath then continued. "You know, I really can't afford to have this whole thing come out! So I'm afraid I have no choice but to get rid of you. Nothing personal, of course! It's just survival."

Dougie's eyes widened as Doise stood up. "I wonder how long it will take them to find your body? A couple hours? A few months? Either way, I'll already have caught my ride at the Tower ruins, long gone!" Dougie made one last desperate attempt to break his bonds, but the ropes held fast. Doise chuckled. "Enjoy your bath, buster! And don't worry.

"I'll take good care of the missus."

With that, Doise shoved the rock off the diving board with his foot. Dougie Jones was dragged into the water with it, going in over his head with a loud splash. He thrashed about, bewildered, before his vision cleared and he could see under the water. The light began to dim and he looked up, just in time to see Doise waving a cheerful goodbye, makeup running down his face, as he pulled the pool cover closed.

The faithful servant thrashed against the ropes, doing everything he could to break free. He tried to cut his bonds on the stone, but couldn't find an edge that worked. Despite his efforts to hold his breath, he was quickly running out of air. He looked up at the pool cover one last time, desperate. His vision was starting to dim, but he thought he could see His Loudness and the chef silhouetted against the tarp by the light of dawn. What were they doing here...? Was it really Noise... or that imposter...? Though he tried to keep his eyes open just a little bit longer, he started to fade from consciousness...

Brick broke through the tarp with a loud splash, bringing a screaming Gustavo with him. Peppino was barely two seconds behind them, screeching to a halt at the water's edge. "Chi diavolo?" he remarked, bewildered at the rat's sudden decision to go swimming at a time like this. They had just arrived at Noise's property a few seconds before, only to find the large house abandoned. Peppino was frustrated. They didn't have time for this!

Gustavo came gasping to the surface, blinking furiously. "Peppino!" the gnome shouted, "There's someone down here!" That was enough for the Italian chef to jump into the swimming pool after his companions, bold determination on his face. After taking a moment to regain his vision, he spotted Brick trying to bring Dougie Jones back to the surface. Though the rat had succeeded in dragging the weight around the bottom of the pool, he couldn't quite lift it.

Peppino swam to the rat's assistance, Gustavo directly behind him. Gustavo started trying to untie the Pizzard, but Peppino snorted and lifted the boulder above his head, albeit with some difficulty. The trio managed to get back to the edge of the pool by working together, and dragged the unconscious man onto dry land. Without even bothering to catch his breath, Peppino got up, tore the gag out of Dougie's mouth, and started conducting CPR on him. Gustavo and Brick looked on, anxiously.

After several agonizingly long minutes, Dougie gasped for breath and awoke. Peppino got back as the Pizzard sat up and started coughing violently, trying to expell the water from his lungs. He opened his eyes and looked around at his rescuers, trying to get his thoughts back in order as he struggled to catch his breath. "Lady Noisette - " he managed to gasp out, before beginning another coughing fit. Peppino put his hand on his shoulder. "We know," he told Dougie, "focus on getting your breath back for now." As Dougie continued coughing and gasping, slowly but surely beginning to breathe normally again, the two chefs and their rat set to work untying him.

Finally, Dougie was able to speak clearly. "His Loudness, he's been impersonated - " he began. Peppino nodded. "We know, we know, do you know where he took Noisette?" he asked urgently, grabbing the weakened man by both shoulders, shaking him slightly in his anxiety. Dougie coughed a bit more, then responded: "Tower - *cough* - Tower ruins! I think he's planning to - *cough cough* - flee the country!"

Peppino stood up immediately, looking towards the all-too familiar cliff. "Gus, stay with him," he barked at his friend. The gnome looked up in dismay. "Peppino, wait!" Gustavo shouted, reaching his hand out for the chef.

But with the sound of tires screeching and a wild yell, Peppino had already disappeared.

The next part should be the finale, but depending on how long it is, I may do an epilog

<<< Previous

Well, dang this part was intense 👀 I loved it! Glad the gang arrived in time, the loss of Dougie Jones would be tragic.. Very excited for the finale! Go get that bastard!

[artsy-the-little-pink-pencil]

Hey guys, so I was watching TADC again and I just could not get over the amount of abstracted characters and I started wondering how they abstracted and who they were as people? So I did just that! Happy reading

Sparky - She was a girl who was just an absolute pick me. She radiated toxic positivity, she was like the mean popular girl, think of Ocean O’conell from Ride the Cyclone or Regina George from Mean Girls. She was two faced, passive aggressive, and talked shit about everyone behind everyone’s back.

Reason she abstracted: Queenie called her out on her bullshit and everyone agreed they felt the same, Sparky felt alone and worthless, cue abstraction.

Age when she joined: 19

Age when she abstracted: 31

Height: 5’7

Age Now: 35

Fave Color: Golden Yellow

Sexuality and Gender: Straight Ally (Closeted Lesbian) Cis Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Personality Type: ESFP

Zodiac: Gemini

Home State/Country: Texas (French American)

Birthday: May 25 1989

Year she joined: 2008

Year she abstracted: 2020

Voice Claim: SquaisheyQuack

🧡🧡🧡

Spike - The big seemingly intimidating gym guy but is actually the super nice uncle who helps you with sets, life advice, and is a super good friend. Doesn’t judge anyone, holds no grudges, and is kind of a himbo. Very tall and muscular.

Reason he abstracted: experience workout burnout, got overweight and depressed, and no one was there for him like he was for them.

Age when he joined: 30

Age when he abstracted: 43

Height: 20 ft (On all fours) 55 ft (on hind legs)

Age Now: 48

Fave Color: Purple

Sexuality and Gender: Straight Ally Genderfluid

Pronouns: All Pronouns are fine

Personality Type: ENFJ

Zodiac: Leo

Home State/Country: Florida (Australian American)

Birthday: Aug 10 1976

Year he joined: 2006

Year he abstracted: 2019

Voice Claim: Greg Eagles (Grim from The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy)

💜💜💜

Bliptzy - Very naive child who believes everything she is told. Easily manipulated and led astray. 100% adopted by Kinger and Queenie. Treated everyone with kindness and was loved by all. She was always around to help the others with tasks, she was almost like a butler to them and was proud of it. She is the result of gentle parenting that worked. Until she hit her teenage years.

Reason she abstracted: Once she hit her teenage years, she started hating her body, wishing she could leave and go home to her actual parents, she started lashing out at others, treating others like shit and constantly throwing tantrums.

Age when she joined: 9

Age when she abstracted: 20

Height: 3’2

Age Now: 25

Fave Color: Lavender

Sexuality and Gender: Non-Binary and Pansexual

Pronouns: It/It’s

Personality Type: ESFJ

Zodiac: Virgo

Home State/Country: Nevada (Canadian American)

Birthday: Aug 31 1999

Year it joined: 2009

Year it abstracted: 2019

Voice Claim: Cozy Glow (MLP)

🩷🩷🩷

Pinkie - Another Himbo, but very shy and is easily swayed by other’s opinions, to the point where they had none of their own, no opinions, no boundaries, no wants or desires, and no identity of their own, only going by what other people said about them. They are the walking definition of a people pleaser and yet somehow, no one liked them for that. They never even had a real connection with anyone there, they just lurked around the circus. Used arm canes.

Reason they abstracted: Realised they had no identity, no opinions, no boundaries, and no one even liked them for what they were.

Age when they joined: 16

Age when they abstracted: 18

Height: 10’0

Age Now: 25

Fave Color: Pink

Sexuality and Gender: Androsexual and Bigender

Pronouns: He/Him, She/Her

Personality Type: INFP

Zodiac: Libra

Home State/Country: Michigan (Indian American)

Birthday: Sep 24 1999

Year he joined: 2015

Year he abstracted: 2017

Voice Claim: Rebecca Root (Misabel from Moominvalley)

🩷🩷🩷

Stringly - A mute and deaf teenager who was bullied the majority of his life. The “Alpha kid”, the “Ricky Potts” kid. Very wild imagination and loved computer games and reading comics. Never went outside unless he had to. Is autistic and has many fidget toys that he hates sharing. Despite being mute, he makes up for that by being overly animated, like a Disney cartoon. Definitely a furry

Reason he abstracted: Realised he will never be able to express his emotions verbally, he wished to speak but never could, his thoughts were only trapped in his mind, and no one could understand what he was trying to say. Just like in real life, he felt alone with no one on his side. Don’t ask why he has a British accent, no one knows.

Age when he joined: 17

Age when he abstracted: 29

Height: 6’6

Age Now: 32

Fave Color: Orange

Sexuality and Gender: Gay and Demiboy

Pronouns: He/They

Personality Type: INFJ

Zodiac: Pisces

Home State/Country: South Carolina (Indian American)

Birthday: March 2 1992

Year he joined: 2009

Year he abstracted: 2021

Voice Claim: StampyLongHead

💚💚💚

Jackles - a Jack-in-the-box who is always overly dramatic and sad. Obsessed with Shakespeare, Macbeth and English History. He’s a pick me but in like, “Oh I’m not gonna get the lead, why would anyone pick me” kind of way. Is always looking for attention and putting himself down to get said attention. He fakes being depressed and heavily yearns for attention just like any theatre kid. Says he’s horrible at singing, but is actually really good and can sing baritone opera.

Reason he abstracted: He actually did become depressed, but by then everyone had already realised it was an act and didn’t care when he went no contact with anyone leaving him to his thoughts.

Age when he joined: 23

Age when he abstracted: 30

Height: 7’5

Age Now: 33

Fave Color: Grey

Sexuality and Gender: AroAce and Genderfluid

Pronouns: He/They

Personality Type: INFJ

Zodiac: Scorpio

Home State/Country: Idaho (Italian African American)

Birthday: Nov 12 1991

Year he joined: 2014

Year they abstracted: 2021

Voice Claim: Astarion (BG3)

❤️❤️❤️

Mippsy - Literally the most basic girl ever, no personality, no aspirations, no talent, no style, no nothing. The most blank stare ever, the biggest bimbo around, dead weight, No thoughts, head empty, not a single thought behind those eyes, extremely forgetful, has the iq of a goldfish cracker, think of Karen from Mean Girls or Heather MacNamera from Heathers.

Reason she abstracted: One day she suddenly became hyper-aware of her surroundings, what she was and the fact that she was just a puppet both figuratively and literally.

Age when she joined: 15

Age when she abstracted: 27

Height: 4’9

Age Now: 29

Fave Color: Pale Aqua

Sexuality and Gender: Lesbian

Pronouns: She/Her

Personality Type: ISFJ

Zodiac: Pisces

Home State/Country: Iowa (American)

Birthday: Feb 19 1995

Year she joined: 2010

Year she abstracted: 2022

Voice Claim: Karen (Mean Girls the Musical)

🩵🩵🩵

Wizzy - A very calm and wise sorcerer. Has always been able to look into the future and tell others exactly how their day will go. Is always the voice of reason and was a dad figure to all, even Ragatha. He would put on magic shows for the others when they were feeling down, but yet no one did the same for him. Always spoke in magic tongues, only Jackles understood what he was saying. He could fly and help Caine with coming up with adventures. (This was before I learned about his actual form and just went off of the very blurry frame in the pilot)

Reason he abstracted: He looked into the future and saw that he was going to abstract and tried his hardest not to.

Age when he joined: 26

Age when he abstracted: 39

Height: 7’1

Age Now: 48

Fave Color: Electric Blue

Sexuality and Gender: Bisexual

Pronouns: He/Him

Personality Type: INTP

Zodiac: Aquarius

Home State/Country: Louisiana (Romanian American)

Birthday: Feb 1 1976

Year he joined: 2002

Year he abstracted: 2015

Voice Claim: God (Prince of Egypt)

💙💙💙

Venus - A very promiscuous woman, who always knew what she was worth. Very confident in herself and never let anyone change her mind about herself, not even Jax, but would get upset and angry easily, and with each outburst, her leaves and flowers fell apart more and more. She then became too hard on herself and forced herself to stay beautiful forever. (This was before I learned about her actual form and just went off of the very blurry frame in the pilot)

Reason she abstracted: She lost her confidence and beauty with each outburst and lost herself in her chase after her once perfect form.

Age when she joined: 21

Age when she abstracted: 29

Height: 8’0

Age Now: 34

Fave Color: Leaf Green

Sexuality and Gender: Lesbian and Trans Woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Personality Type: ESTP

Zodiac: Taurus

Home State/Country: North Carolina (Greek American)

Birthday: April 21 1990

Year she joined: 2011

Year she abstracted: 2019

Voice Claim: Queen Chrysalis (MLP)

💚💚💚

Kaufmo - Was a loveable clown and always made jokes and acts for the others. He was a typical clown, with an over the top Roger Rabbit like voice. At first the others enjoyed his acts, as it was a nice distraction from the day’s traumatic adventure, same for him, he often used humour to cope with his trauma and eventually, his “jokes” became self deprecating and condescending to others, which then led to jabs and passive aggressive remarks of the others actions. He soon grew bitter of his friends, and the circus in general, finally seeing the hell that it was.

Reason he abstracted: After becoming more bitter and bitter over the years, his jokes declined and drove a wedge between himself and his friends, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

Age when he joined: 19

Age when he abstracted: 38

Height: 6��3

Age Now: 39

Fave Color: Neon Yellow

Sexuality and Gender: Bisexual, Panromantic, Demisex/rom Cis male

Pronouns: He/Him

Personality Type: ENTP

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Home State/Country: Alabama (Irish American)

Birthday: Nov 30 1985

Year he joined: 2004

Year he abstracted: 2023

Voice Claim: Jack Black

💛💛💛

Queenie - A wonderful woman who was the mother figure to all. She was very kind and caring, always giving advice when asked, and was always so put together and calm, even during the most dangerous of situations, she always had a plan for everything. Was very fun to be around, despite her grandeur, she had a youthfulness to her. Was very competitive and hated losing to anyone.

Reason she abstracted: Over the years, the pressure of being “Queen” got to her head and became narcissistic, truly believing she was the queen of not only the circus, but the world, she thought the world revolved around her and everyone was but a mere peasant in her eyes, even Kinger would be afraid of her wrath. If anyone were to dare disobey her, a world of hell would be brought upon them, she’d make their life a living hell and never forgive them. But once Jax destroyed her garden to “humble” her, she lost it, demanding that Jax fix it at once but Jax only told her, “This is just a game, and your status means nothing here” she abstracted on the spot. Kinger has never trusted him since.

Age when she joined: 26

Age when she abstracted: 43

Height: 6’9

Age Now: 49

Fave Color: Blood Red

Sexuality and Gender: Straight Ally and Cis Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Personality Type: ESTJ

Zodiac: Capricorn

Home State/Country: Birmingham England (English) Moved to Minnesota when she was little

Birthday: Dec 26 1975

Year she joined: 2001

Year she abstracted: 2018

Voice Claim: Mitski

❤️❤️❤️

[superlinguo]

Superlinguo 2024 in review

I returned to full time work after a year of parental leave. That, alone, would have been enough for this year. Unfortunately, it turned into a terrible year at my university, with key senior colleagues in my department losing their jobs.

I like these reviews most year, but looking back on last year it feels even more important than usual to remember that there were some good things that happened in spite of everything going on with my university.

Lingthusiasm in 2024

Lingthusiasm turned 8! We maintained our regular pace, posting a dozen main episodes as well as our monthly bonus episodes for patrons. We plotted our vowels and covered a wide range of topics, including some great interviews with guests.

We launched our perfectly calibrated, Very Serious ‘Which Lingthusiasm episode are you?’ quiz guide you!

We were also reviewed in the New York Times, were featured in Lauren Passell’s Podcast the Newsletter, and conducted our final survey in the trilogy we planned.

We released a new sticker/badge that says "Ask Me About Linguistics", new merch that says "more people have read the text on this shirt than I have" and a range of merch with a very elegant Gavagai from Lucy Maddox, which are both available alongside merch for all kinds of linguists and language fans.

Main episodes

A politeness episode, if you please (transcript)

Helping computers decode sentences - Interview with Emily M. Bender (transcript)

OooOooh~~ our possession episode oOooOOoohh 👻 (transcript)

Welcome back aboard the metaphor train! (transcript)

Lo! An undetached collection of meaning-parts! (transcript)

The perfectly imperfect aspect episode (transcript)

How nonbinary and binary people talk - Interview with Jacq Jones (transcript)

Brunch, gonna, and fozzle - The smooshing episode (transcript)

Scoping out the scope of scope (transcript)

What visualizing our vowels tells us about who we are (transcript)

Connecting with oral culture (transcript)

No such thing as the oldest language (transcript)

Bonus episodes

Crochet vocal tract, grammar is a team sport, gifs, and soy sauce - Deleted scenes from Jacq Jones, Emily M. Bender, and Tom Scott team interviews

Metaphors be with you! Lingthusiasm x Let’s Learn Everything crossover episode

Linguistic Travel - Estonia, Mundolingua, and Martha’s Vineyard

Xenolinguistics 👽

Behind the Scenes on the Tom Scott Language Files

Don’t you love to do a “do” episode?

The best and worst comparatives episode

Linguistic mixups - spoonerisms, mondegreens, and eggcorns

Secret codes and the joy of cryptic word puzzles

Inner voice, mental pictures, and other shapes for thoughts

How we made vowel plots with Bethany Gardner

Are thumbs fingers and which episode of Lingthusiasm are you? Survey results and a new personality quiz

Themself, Basque ergativity cartoons, and bad swearing ideas - Deleted scenes from Kirby Conrod, Itxaso Rodriguez-Ordoñez, and Jo Walton and Ada Palmer

Top Superlinguo posts in 2024

I honestly expected to have nothing to post here, so it's lovely to know that I do still get small changes to blog throughout the year.

General posts

Research Data Management. Or, How I made multiple backups and still almost lost my honours thesis.

Thinking With Your Hands, Susan Goldin-Meadow (Review)

How to Talk Language Science with Everybody, Laura Wagner & Cecile McKee (Review)

Himalayan Linguistics turns 20: Celebrating two decades of Diamond Open Access publish

Himalayan Linguistics, Linguistics Vanguard and the Australian Journal of Linguistics - my three journal editorial hats

2024 LingComm Grants – Small Grants for Communicating Linguistics to Wider Audiences

2024 LingComm Grantees: New linguistics projects for you to follow

New gesture Emoji in Unicode 15.1: Head Shaking Horizontally and Head Shaking Vertically (aka shake and nod!), and (finally) right facing emoji

Academic articles in 2024

Four publications this year, across lingcomm, gesture and emoji. I also spent a lot of this year finishing Gesture: A Slim Guide, which will be out with OUP in 2025.

McCulloch, G. & L. Gawne. 2024. Towards a theory of linguistic curiosity: applying linguistic frameworks to lingcomm and scicomm. Linguistics Vanguard 10(s3): 181-189. DOI: 10.1515/lingvan-2024-0073 [OA published version][blog summary]

Gawne, L., & Cooperrider, K. (2024). Emblems: Meaning at the interface of language and gesture. Glossa: a journal of general linguistics. doi: 10.16995/glossa.9705 [OA published version][blog summary]

Cabraal, A. & L. Gawne. 2024. Using emoji as a creative tool for data analysis. In H. Kara, D. Mannay & A. Roy (Eds), The Handbook of Creative Data Analysis, 201-212. Bristol: Polity Press.

Gawne, L., G. McCulloch, N. Sweeney, R. Alatalo, H. Bodenhausen, C. Riley & J. Grieser. 2024. Creating Inclusive Linguistics Communication: Crash Course Linguistics. In A. Charity Hudley, C. Mallinson, and M. Bucholtz (Eds), Inclusion in Linguistics, 383-396. Oxford University Press. [Open Access PDF][blog post summary]

The year ahead

After a year of upheaval, next year will be a time of rebuilding. There will be a new team, a new curriculum, and I'm not silly enough to assume that also means a new, manageable pace of work. I'll still be sharing work here and recording Lingthusiasm. I've also been spending more time on Bluesky, perhaps I'll see you there?

Browsing old Superlinguo content?

I have a welcome page on the blog that points you to aggregate posts, and series of posts I've done over the years, as well as themed collections of posts that have appeared on the blog in the last twelve years.

Previous years

Superlinguo 2023 in review

Superlinguo 2022 in review

Superlinguo 2021 in review

Superlinguo 2020 in review

Superlinguo 2020 (2019 in review)

Superlinguo 2019 (2018 in review)

Superlinguo 2018 (2017 in review)

Superlinguo 2017 (2016 in review)

Superlinguo 2015 highlights

[op1umeyes]

i’ve been rewatching ncis lately and was wondering if you go do some fluff for ziva x reader? maybe a little bit of angst idk sorry i don’t have anything specific 😭😭 but i absolutely love your page and your writing!!!!

⎯ ❝ what i want to hear ❞ | ziva david

✰ - synopsis :: ziva messes up and needs to apologize to her beloved girlfriend.

✰ - warnings :: female reader, reader is gibbs’s daughter, r doesn’t work at ncis, angst to fluff >:p

✰ - k.j.’s diary says... sorry abt photos i cant really find any that mach the aesthetic i was going for.

“Please, y/n, for all of us: take Ziva back,” Tony pleaded, on the phone. “She keeps looking at the phone and is all nervous and keeps looking up whenever the elevator dings. I’m actually begging you right now to answer her calls.”

McGee nodded from his desk. “It’s even got Giibbs a little worried.”

Your sigh crackled through the phone. “No. I see no point. If she truly feels remorse for what she said, she’ll tell me in person.”

Tony whined and leaned back on his chair, frustrated with both of his best friends.

“I have to go because unlike you, I do my job,” y/n quipped. “I’ll talk to you, Tim, and Jethro later. Bye!”

Tim and Tony echoed their goodbyes and hung up. Ziva had her hands on her head and was clearly thinking back to the conversation from about 24 hours ago.

“You okay over there Ziva?” McNosy asked from his desk.

“I do not know why she is upset! I answered her question and now she is upset at me!” Ziva burst out, her eyes getting that ’I love her but how the hell do I fix this’ look.

“Sometimes you just gotta tell ‘em what makes ‘em happy,” Tony shrugged.

Nodding, Tim agreed. “For the first time in his life Tony’s right. Tonight go pick up some flowers and sit down with y/n and apologize for what you said.”

“I just told her the truth!” Ziva defended.

Gibbs scoffed as he rounded the corner. “If I know my kid, David, you better tell her what she wants to hear before she pulls the cold shoulder.”

Sighing, Ziva went back to typing reports on her computer while thinking about what she would say to you tonight. She knew the guys were right, she had to tell you want you wanted to hear.

𓇽 - time skip

“Hello my love,” Ziva greeted from the table of your apartment.

You shrugged your coat of without looking her way.

“y/n, please hear me when I say that I’m sorry for what I said.”

Once again, you don’t acknowledge her as you turn to the fridge to grab the pasta that Rossi had given you on your most recent visit. You scoop some spaghetti into a bowl and place it into the microwave.

“I realize now that what I said hurt you and I’m willing to make up for what I said,” Ziva spoke. She wrapped her arms around your stomach and leaned into your back.

“So then say it, Ziva,” you say quietly.

“I… I would love you as a worm. I would make a little container with soil and leaves and flowers you like and carry you around with me everywhere. I’d love you if you were a moth, black widow, pirhannah, australian hissing cockroach, or a rabid wolf. I promise.” Ziva’s words were like the most beautiful song you’d ever head, playing your heartstrings like a cowboy playing a harmonica.

“You, Ziva David, are a goddamn sap,” you coo, turning in her arms to embrace her. “I love you too. I’d make a greenhouse just for you if you were a worm.”

Ziva laughed and pressed kisses up and down y/n’s neck. “I do not doubt that, my love.”

As Ziva clung to y/n, a dopey smile pulled at her lips. She really did love this woman… even if she became a worm.

[razor0-0]

Heads up for politic-based rant:

Just realised that literally no Australian news site has made a peep about the under-16s social media ban. The bill got passed. The security risks are insane. And the bill is vague as fuck??? If I drop off the face of the earth it'll be because the government finally went and introduced ID-mandatory logins to all 'social media' sites. I am not connecting my ID to my online presence any more than I already have. I learned about this shit on Tumblr of all places because the media isn't talking about it.

If I end up only being reachable via AO3 then so be it because AO3 sure as hell won't allow whatever the fuck the government is trying to pull. If I have no access to any social media sites then so be it, because the Australian legislation defines Social Media as 'any online social network. An online social network is a website or app that allows a user to create and share content online, for example, Facebook, Twitter or LinkedIn. This often involves sharing personal information in comments and messages, and photos and videos'.

So. Yeah. That definition includes Discord, Tumblr, Xbox Live, Twitch, Reddit, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Steam, Roblox, Fortnite, Minecraft etc. It's super fucking broad and the new legislation makes no move to narrow down their meaning because they don't want to. I swear to fuck if AO3 falls under that definition and they find it I will riot.

Not to mention, how exactly do they expect these kids to function online after they clear the age limit? Like are they just going to go 'hey this is the internet have fun we aren't explaining shit to you :)' and leave? There are already no online safety courses taught nationwide - hell, not even statewide where I am. What are they going to do??? Typequick and computer literacy were both dropped as subjects when I was in grade three. I've graduated highschool since then. What the fuck are we coming to as a country?

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Humans generate 62 million tons of e-waste each year. Here's what happens when it's recycled

In 2022, humans generated roughly 62 million tons of electronic waste—or e-waste. That's enough to fill more than 1.5 million garbage trucks. And by 2030, that figure is expected to rise to 82 million tons. Australia is a huge contributor to this problem. Every year each Australian, on average, generates 20kg of e-waste, compared with the global average of 7kg per person. Less than one quarter of the world's e-waste—which includes desktop computers, laptops, mobile phones, televisions, kitchen appliances, batteries and solar panels—is recycled. That means most of it ends up in landfill, which can result in major accidents. For example, earlier this month, a rubbish truck in Melbourne caught fire after a laptop battery that had been thrown in the garbage bin exploded.

Read more.

[pseudinymous]

I guess I owe you lot a bit of an update.

Life is alright. I finally finish my degree in October, which will make me the second person in my family to hold a Bachelor. Hell yeah!

After that I’m looking at doing a Masters in Speech Pathology. Cushy job, good pay, and I don’t have to psychotherapy people.

Maybe then medicine, if my GPA comes out high enough. If it doesn’t, guess I’m becoming a speech pathologist.

I have RSI in both wrists and it’s driving me mental. Can only peck at the computer, currently using speech to text that hates my accent so much that I have to fake an American accent to make it transcribe accurately. And I don’t even speak the difficult-for-outsiders broad Australian dialect, I literally speak cultivated (yes, it is actually called that) Australian English unless I’m being lazy, which is well known for clear diction. Really annoys me.

Thinking about doing road traffic control for construction for the rest of my student life. My wrists are my bread and butter as a writer/designer, but I’m off work for this at the moment and I don’t want it to get better and then just to get worse again. Standing there with a lollipop stop sign is well paid here, even if it’s boring, and it’s not going to annihilate my wrists. So, a genuine consideration.

Other than that, thanks to a lot of time, meds, and doctors, most of my health conditions are fairly under control. Unimaginable even two years ago. Wild.

So yeah, things are mixed. Very cautiously hopeful.

[igotabonerwatchingthesepangkick]

Tin Drum Confessions

Ao3

Three men, the ones who watched the drums open hunt for whoever is hiding the bodies inside. Valentino and Uccio, run a private investigation company, hoping to end what had been started years ago.

Chapter two.

Vale and Uccio arrived at the address Sete shared, entering the small second floor flat preparing themselves for the worst. The pair remembered the state they had found the last victim Sete had sent them. Enea Bastianini had been found inside one of the 5 tin drums that haunted everyone. His apartment, was hot with the stench of death. Whoever had killed him had slit his throat from behind, blood spouting out of him and onto his dinner. By the time Sete and Vale entered, the pasta had grown mold, and now carbonara was permanently off the menu.

But nothing could have prepared the duo for the interior. It was sterile, as if waiting for someone to make the apartment a home. Uccio took a step further inside, digging through his pocket for his notebook. "What is this?" Vale asked aloud as Uccio flipped though the pages of his notebook. "Sete says that we have no name, guess we have to find some sort of identification." Valentino shrugged, closing the front door behind himself. He made a beeline to the kitchen, ripping the police tape off the fridge and rummaging through. He grabbed a few slices of deli meat, stuffing it in his mouth as he followed Uccio into the living room.

Sete and the police had swept the place clean, lifting fingerprints that matched no records. "I thought we had a murder scene?" Valentino grumbled. Uccio shook his head, "we dont know anything except this-" he held up a piece of paper that was part of the pile on the table. "-whoever lived here was investigating the tin drum murders." Vale took the paper from his hand, skimming over the text, nearly handwritten thoughts now on page.

 

No connection to local mafia, members were active outside the area at the time. What is the connection between them all? This is too much of a coincidence to be 5 random murders.

 

Valentino's eyes flicked up to Uccio, whoever this journalist was, they had the same ideas as the academy. It felt like a cruel joke, the person who could help bring a new angle to their investigation was part of it. Vale leaned his head down between his knees, shaking side to side before standing up. "Call the boys, we need to gather as much evidence as we can before the crimes scene cleaners come. Can you look into the computer?" He stood up, heading towards the door, "smoke break. Ill be back in 5." 

The autumn breeze pushed a few long hairs into Valentino's eyes, annoying him to no end. He pulled a tin of cigarettes out of his jean pockets, ones he had Franky roll for him. Cigarettes in the agency were more than a quick smoke. They were signals, each filter an identification. Franky would fold his into swirls, Luca would use pre rolled cones, Bez using pasta as a filter. Mig and Uccio were similar, quickly pressed rolls that only differed in tightness. Pecco used red tipped cigarettes, preferring to smoke menthol cigarettes. When undercover, these cigarettes shared with a target could mean the difference between catching them or losing the mark forever. 

"You got one to spare?" A voice asked. Valentino looked up to see a man with sand blonde hair, an Australian accent and a wide grin looking at him. Vale recognised the man, one who lingered in front of the office. Had he been following him, and why? Valentino shook his head slightly, the man shrugging his shoulders. "Worth a try." He said walking away. Vale looked down, lighting his cigarette, he looked up to watch the man leave but was met with an empty street. As if it was just him. The air felt colder suddently, something urging Valentino to go back inside to relative safety. He turned to leave, the honking of a car horn stopping him. Mig hung out from the window of the car, Bez in the drivers seat. Vale took a long drag, asking the universe why they had been allowed to come together. By themselves, Mig and Bez were amazing detectives, together however, they were incompetent. Celestino's face popped up in the corner of Valentino's mind and he had to supress the urge to faceplant. How could the two men who couldnt find a missing man when one of them was dating him now help in another missing person case. Knowing his luck, somebody would end up dating the missing journalist.

"Hey boss!" Bez said, car parallel parked in the same way a child would put a block in a tray. Valentino greeted the two, ushering them inside. Uccio sat at the computer desk, attempting to gain access. "Got more security than normal." He said turning back, "its going to take me a while." Vale opened his mouth to agree but was cut off by Mig frantically pointing out the window. "Clean up is on its way." The four of them paused. Bez was the first to move, grabbing a suitcase from the bedroom and shoving as many papers as he could inside. Mig rushed into the bedroom, emerging with a handful of shirt and trousers, a pair of shoes hanging from his fingers. He shoved it all inside the suitcase, grabbing it and rushing downstairs. The sound of angry honking came from outside the apartment, the crime scene clean up van unable to find parking on the street. "We have maybe 5 minutes before they show up." Uccio said in distress. "I havent gotten in yet. What the fuck are we going to do." Bez rushed to Uccio, pulling the power cable of the PC out and lifting the tower into his arms. He carried it out as Uccio protested, pausing mid-sentence and then following the younger man out. Valentino went back into the kitchen, grabbing the leftover meat in the fridge and resealing the tape. He locked the door behind himself, putting the spare key back under the doormat. 

Outside, Bez pressed his hand against the horn, waiting for Valentino to get inside the car. With a mouth full of meat, he nodded at the clean up crew, getting inside the car feeling victorious. Bez sped off, Valentino looking out the car window hoping to spot the mysterious blonde man.

[inchidentallybackup]

ok so I am obsessed with this poetry/Oscar series by @piastriachios and I need to just put my thoughts here rather than messing with the visuals of the post

the fact that so much is emphasized about how poetry is this clean, pure line of thought from brain to pen when so many people see it as "flowery" or "fussy" or worse, intellectual in an elitist sense. and it's like the way people (looking at you, Dax Sh*pard) see Oscar and assume he's Just a Guy and casually fling all these bro-ey assumptions at him thinking he'll pick them up and play ball. but every time one of those comes at him Oscar visibly withdraws and casts that Australian sound-of-hesitation-and-disagreement and hits back with something much simpler and nothing to do with outside approval. he has A-levels in maths, physics and computer science but he also chooses daring and risk above all else. he said goodbye to his dad and lived half a world away from his family from age 14, pushed himself to succeed at school alongside his racing career, stood up against an entire F1 team to choose where he took his F1 seat, and has had one of the ballsiest rookie seasons for a long time.

the emphasis on the bravery and the guts it takes to compose poetry as well - how exposed you are. and there's Oscar following on from Carlos and Daniel as Lando's teammate hot on the heels of controversy - and he makes the solid decision to just be himself, with absolutely nothing in common with the naturally media-friendly big personalities that came before him. it feels so tempting to class him as awkward or just shy but it's not the case. he will not dance when told to and he won't fill space if it doesn't feel right. he won't play even a somewhat false part to Lando for the sake of winning over fans and media (a lot of whom already looked askance at him). he also isn't humble and deferential to Lando just for the impression it will give. he knows he's the rookie and he knows Lando is the established F1 driver. none of that matters on the track of course. but everywhere else, it does. so it matters to him.

and then there's his unbroken resilience and lack of relationship with regret. he celebrates with humility as well as pride when he does well, and stares disappointment down with that determined look on his face. because of course he feels things and of course it's more than what he will allow just anyone to know about him. but even that is strategic and smart. his own family told him that to pursue this career the way he wanted he would have to largely be solitary. he didn't even find a girlfriend just to have someone around to absorb the loneliness as so many young men do, she has her own education and career and family and has only been to certain races each year. and his choice was to not try and find a new family but to be his own man. "that's the type of chaos that happens when your brain interferes with your body". he knows what things he's supposed to be doing and what his responsibilities are meant to be. it isn't his job yet to try and be more for the sake of someone else or worry about what he'll be expected to do in the future. that will be then, this is now.

"thinking will make mistakes" and if that doesn't describe Oscar's approach of demanding space to be deliberate and comfortable. a huge amount of Lando's discussions about his own mental health are on him trying to live more for the moment and to not get stuck in his own head. he said of the Sprint win 'Oscar didn't make any mistakes and I did, so he deserved that win more than me' (paraphrased). Lando also said that he's gained a lot from having Oscar as a teammate and that's honestly an understatement for Lando's success in the 2023 season. they're both preternaturally disposed to view life and racing in totally different but not remotely clashing ways. Oscar's clarity and ability to remain in the moment is something Lando's always known he needs more of because it sharpens and hones his own abilities the way it does for Oscar. it's like having a walking buddy who keeps pointing at things on the horizon and making you look up to see. you don't have to see in the same way or even see the same things, you just have to remember to look.

"kick against words as you would kick back on a swing" and "you've got to feel as if the soles of your feet are touching the sky" godddd when you watch the races from the onboards and appreciate the rocket science and mortal risk of each and every race - and how vastly different F1 is to F2 and why so many young men are denied a seat… Oscar could never be the placid creature he seems when he's outside the car. it's just that who he really is exists when he's in the car and life for him outside of it is something different. he's possibly the most 'purely driven by a passion for racing' racing driver in a Prostian sense for a long time. (Max being a different kettle of fish entirely and not my topic to get into) but there's a lack of alpha male anger and hostility to him that existed in those previous generations that I think is what propelled him in the Qatar sprint and has resulted in his passing looking like someone who's more like three or four years into his F1 career than a rookie. Oscar will not give up his daring for anyone or anything. that's the truth of that bright crimson streak across his cheeks when he lifts his helmet off before he slowly becomes pale and retiring again.

I just really love that post and it was completely unnecessary and probably very unpoetic of me to ramble about it like this but it's intended as fully appreciative <3