#I had to learn manual from the guy I bought it from

[alexaloraetheris]

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

[strangerqueerthings]

The Camaro

Neil was adamant: Billy had to get his own car if he wanted to go anywhere that wasn't school, and he had to pay for it himself.

Billy was equally adamant that he was going to get his hands on one.

So he worked his ass off, starting at the age of thirteen. He started small and local, mowing lawns, or offering to help elderly neighbors with grocery shopping- and bringing them in for them afterwards.

The latter got him far more pinched cheeks than he wanted, but when he laid on the charm, he was paid well.

To his delight, an elderly neighbor, Mister Grant, gifted him with a bike. His grandson never visited anymore now that he was in college, and Billy had been so helpful with the yard work, so he was happy to give it to him.

Billy kept the bike at Mister Grant's, afraid that Neil would take it away, or worse, destroy it or give it away- if Neil knew that he'd been given something like a bike, he'd accuse Billy of being weak by accepting charity.

The bike opened up entirely new venues of work, expanding his reach. More work offers, thanks to the bike, and his work ethic- which was talked about, spread by word of mouth.

All the while, he checked out car maintenance books from the library, rode his bike to the closest mechanic and volunteered to help, in exchange for the mechanics explaining what they were doing, so he could learn as much as he could about cars.

By the time he was sixteen, three years of working in the sun, doing manual labor, Billy was tanned, fit, and had plenty of money to start searching for something even better than a bike.

His first car.

Billy had never even dared to dream about getting a new car, even a relatively new used car. He'd saved up nearly 1,500 dollars, had it hidden in various places to keep it out of Neil's reach, going to the bank to swap out coins and singles for bigger bills so it'd be easier to hide.

He had finally brought the bike to the house. He told Neil he'd bought it used, to help him get more work, and Neil had almost been pleased at his work ethic- but as Billy had expected, it was taken away as punishment whenever Billy pissed him off.

He browsed the sale pages in the newspapers, kept his ear to the ground for deals, and finally, a few months after his birthday, Sid told him a cousin was selling his Camaro.

"It's kinda shitty," he drawled, exhaling clove cigarette smoke into the summer air. "He swiped a few cars and a mailbox with it, so it needs body work. He also didn't do a lot maintenance on it, and it's a 79, so... yeah. He's selling it for cheap."

"Does it run?" Billy asked. That was all that mattered, really.

"Yeah," Sid said, nodding. "It runs, it just... it's a mess. Real fixer upper."

Billy hadn't minded in the least. He'd wanted something with horsepower, something that would be loud, go fast, but he'd suspected he'd get something rusted and slow with the money he had.

"How much?"

Sid shrugged.

"I think he said 900 or so, but you know... you could probably haggle."

Billy did just that. He ignored the scratches and dents- they were all cosmetic. What he pointed out were all the mechanical issues- just like the guys at the mechanics had told him.

'College kids who have something like a Z28? They don't know shit about cars, just the model,' Bert had said, and had showed him what to look for, and told him what to say to bluff his way into a reduced price.

"I don't know," he said, putting the dusky blue car into park after a test drive. "That clunk? That's a CV joint- either I'd have to replace the boot, or the entire front axle."

He popped the hood and got out, peering into the guts of the car he already wanted more than anything in his life- save for freedom from Neil. He winced audibly, a sharp, hissing intake of air through his teeth.

"Yeah, I dunno," he said, folding his arms over his chest. "The serpentine belt is starting to look a little frayed. I'd have to replace that before disaster hit."

He pulled the dipstick out, examining it, making a show of sniffing the oil on it, and made an overly exaggerated face.

"When's the last time you changed the oil, man? It smells burnt."

Derek looked taken aback, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Honestly... idunno," he said helplessly.

Billy replaced the dipstick, closed the hood with a loud clang and dusted his hands off.

"Yeah I dunno," he repeated. "Nine hundred bucks can get me a car that isn't riddled with issues- mechanical OR body."

"It's a Z28, man," Sid's cousin said, scowling.

"Yeah, but she's nearly fifteen years old, and she's been poorly maintained- and I'm being generous," Billy retorted. "I'd be better off saving up for another three years for something better than getting this heap. It'd cost me nine hundred to fix all the shit that's wrong with her."

Derek was quiet for a bit, and Billy shrugged, moving to pick up his bike and head home.

"Eight hundred," Derek blurted.

Billy paused, making a show of consideration.

"Six hundred."

"Seven hundred."

"Six fifty, and you write the bill of sale as five hundred so I don't pay as much on the title fees."

Derek sighed, defeated.

"Done."

Derek wrote out the bill of sale, and filled out the title. They both signed where appropriate, and Derek handed the title and keys over to Billy, who fought to keep his hands from shaking as he took them.

Registering the Camaro would have to wait- he couldn't take her home as she was. He took her to the shop, where Bert congratulated him on his haggling, and enthusiastically offered to help him fix her up.

By the time October came around, Billy pulled up at home in the Camaro, and Neil came outside, clearly surprised at the car his son had managed to find.

She was perfect.

He and Bert had changed out her fluids and filters, put new tires on her, replaced her old serpentine belt, put in a whole new front axle, and had hammered out and smoothed out the dents and scratches.

She looked good as new, gleaming in the driveway.

Billy handed him the title and bill of sale, showing him how much he'd paid, and Neil had immediately held out his hand for the keys.

"You may have paid for it, but legally, you can't own it until you're 18," he said. "When you turn 18, it's all yours, provided you don't do anything stupid."

Billy's heart sank, but he knew it was going to happen. He placed the keys in Neil's open palm, watching his father's fingers curl around them.

"I'm not going to ask how you got the money for a car that looks this good."

"She didn't," Billy blurted. "I worked on her. I fixed her up. She's been at Bert's. Bert helped me learn how to work on her, so I can maintain her upkeep without using my money for someone else to do it."

Neil glanced at the Camaro again, his look appraising, critical.

"And here I was worried that you'd learned nothing."

He turned to go back into the house.

"Glad to learn I was wrong."

Billy didn't dare read too much into it, but he could have sworn there was a note of pride in Neil's voice. It made the affection he felt for his new car swell in his chest.

Neil may have taken ownership of her for now, but he hadn't been mad. He hadn't punished Billy for taking initiative.

For once, he'd done something right, and the proof of it sat on four wheels, gleaming like a beacon of freedom in the driveway.

[shotmrmiller]

Hellooo again! I come once more with more Gaz thoughts. Seriously, bro, I am DROWNING in Gaz everything right now. Like.. I need to breathe him, need to intermingle our souls.. And intermingle from behind, from the front, from between- AHEM. Anywho~~

Kyle is a nerd, a geek, a total goof. I cannot for the life of me get that out of my head that he would take every opportunity he could to bring up stuff like Dungeons and Dragons. "You, uh.. You mentioned that a new movie came out? You wouldn't happen to be talkin' about the D&D movie, would you? You are! So I've heard-" And then he'd spill facts and lore and stories and "Oh! I have the newest edition manuals. I've read them and memorized the rules. Would you like to learn? I can be Dundeon Master!" Of course, it's the literal written law to say yes to him no matter what, so you obviously agree.

Well, as it turns out, the geeky little one-on-one that he would have thoroughly enjoyed with you during a solo campaign would be completely ruined by a boisterous Scotsman and a grumpy skull-face. Price would have joined, but he was busy(he really just wanted to take a nap like an over-exhausted single Mother running after said boisterous Scot and too-serious, overly-sarcastic skull-face)

With Kyle's plans utterly foiled,(he had PLANS, damnit!) he went on to begrudgingly teach Johnny and Simon what each die did, what each roll meant, how to write up a character and all the rest of that.(seriously, he really had plans for a solo sesh..)

"No.. Ghost, you cannot roll insight on a newborn Elf just because they might be the next bad guy.. This is the third time you've asked that, man, just leave it!" It was literally only the third session within the campaign, and Ghost was already on the highway to becoming a murder-hobo. It didn't help that Ghost had made a complete edgelord rouge with the backstory conforming to the stereotype. Opening the dictionary of stereotypes, Ghost's character was the single definition of it.

"Soap! Fucks sake, bruv, stop messing with me! Just because you want to hit on the made-up barmaid doesn't mean you physically have to act it out on me.. Soap!" Soap was also the definition of horny bard. Actually, Soap tried taking it up to an entirely higher extreme and physically attempted time and time again to act it all out. "Bu' think o' it, Gaz! It's all made up, why no' act it ou' as well?? It's fookin' genius!" "For the hundredth time, Soap, that's LARPING! Get your bloody hands off me, you git!"

And then there was you. Sweet, innocent little you. You were fairly normal, had done fairly normal actions that were consistent. Just a simple, happy, normal half-Elven fighter with a simple, happy, normal half-Elven fighter backstory. However.. His mistake was gifting you your first set of dice. He had bought the set specifically for you, bought it the moment he saw them, and immediately thought of you, that you would love to have them. He didn't know that that action, that simple little gift, would turn you into a dice Dragon.

"Bloody hell, what 'ave you done???" Session seven came around, and he was standing in your barracks dorm after getting a few complaints about your.. problem. There, spilling over your bunk and onto the floor, over the small little stand beside the bed, was several upon several sets of dice. "Beautiful, isn't it? Behold my treasure, for I am a Dragon! I have ascended to the heavens and have become my ultimate self!" "Bleedin'... Bleedin' hells, love.." He'd created a monster, but he couldn't be bothered to really care when it seemed to make you happy. He never had to worry about misplacing his own set now that you had so much to spare.

(I may or may not be a dice Dragon... It's not a problem, it's HAPPINESS)

I'm gonna be honest.

I have never, in my entire 29 years of unwillingly existing, have I ever seen one game of DND. I have no idea what it's about. When I ask people, they lose me in the details because they get too excited (i just get a wide look in my eye and nod every once in a while, because they're speaking with so much passion i'd never ruin that for them) or they give the sorriest explanations known to man because they don't have the patience to teach.

it doesn't help that i don't know anyone that plays it either.

now. I'd be doing exactly that as Kyle went on an explanation turned soliloquy, because it feels like he's now in a play, and i'm the audience with the way his hands gesture his words.

His eyes are bright, his face is lit up with joy and i have no idea what he's saying but he looks so good in his element.

And then he hands me a die.

It's one of the best things I've ever seen.

I'd look at him and ask him if he'd be willing to buy me more. The way he smiles at me has my cheeks burning.

Now I'm collecting all kinds of dice and hoarding it like Smaug.

He'll step on it, and yelps because it feels like a lego under his foot, but once he realizes it's something he's bought for me, he'll carefully place it back on the little bookshelf.

In anticipation of any more scattered treasure, he now drags his feet on the floor.

"Come along! Help yourself; There's plenty, and to spare!"

[centrally-unplanned]

To recount a twitter story, Kenny Lauderdale posted this very normcore review of the English release of Gainax VN Princess Maker 2 from the May 1996 edition of the (Michigan) Times Herald:

It includes some great quotes, like Japanese professor Etsuko Yamashita believing its existence is a step back for feminism - very amusing given how gender-equal the player base for these games is today! Time marches past us all. Sometimes for the better - it cost $140 in Japan on release!?

But what I found interesting was the art featured - because that isn't Princess Maker 2?

This is PM2, that girl above is not our player-named protagonist.

Turns out that is art is from Princess Maker 3:

You can see specific scenes like the beach as well, in case you had any doubt. This is weird though because, well, Princess Maker 3 came out in January of 1997? More than half a year after this article was published! Which means they somehow had access to promotional material for Princess Maker 3? Which to be clear absolutely did exist at the time - in fact, Princess Maker 3 was bought up by Sony as a limited release for their brand-new console the Playstation. PM3 was actually featured on the cover of the first ever volume of the Dengeki Playstation magazine, released in January of 1995 (the PS1 coming out in December 1994):

Alas I haven't found a copy of this scanned online, so I can't say what it contained. This being two years before the game's release does honestly point to some development hell drama, the timeline for a game back then should not be that lengthy. Man, wonder what was happening at Gainax in 1995 that might have been a distraction...

Still, we have a question of how this American newspaper article got their hands on them. It also seems worthwhile to note that this article is syndicated - it was published in a dozen newspapers across the country around this time, but with different titles and photos to fit each paper's needs. And other papers do have correct Princess Maker 2 screenshots on them!

I have no grand answer here or anything, sorry guys, but I think we can infer it. The article itself actually mentions that a "third one" is now in the works, which is something they would have learned from the publisher of the English version, IntraCorp (they weren't reading Japanese press magazines in 1996!). IntraCorp likely wanted them to mention it because they themselves were going to hopefully license it, assuming the first (well, second) one was successful - this was their first foray into this specific licensing niche, previously making action games like Witchaven II: Blood Vengeance. In early 1996 they sent out copies & press kits to reviewers, and I am guessing that copy almost certainly included - perhaps poorly labeled - promotional material for Princess Maker 3 as well that Gainax had provided them, so they would mention it in the article and seed hype. The harried layout editor at The Times Herald opened the wrong folder and threw them on the page by mistake - after all the author didn't work for him, he worked for the Associated Press. He had no experience with the game to know his error.

We will never know because this is a niche curiosity from almost 30 years ago, sure, but we will also never know because the game being reviewed above...was never released! IntraCorp declared bankruptcy soon after the publication of this article. They were not the localizers themselves - a team of 4 people called SoftEgg were - but their contract with them was binding enough that it left the virtually-finished translated copy in perpetual legal limbo. Eventually it was leaked onto the internet as a form of abandonware a few years later. The hard-working men of America never got to be "Sim Dad" in 1996 unless they were intrepid enough to be UseNet Forum users hunting down and running Japanese-language romhacks.

Which is not a hypothetical, that was occurring. I will leave you all with the opening quote from the rec.arts.anime group's User Manual for navigating your Nihongo copy of Princess Maker 2, preserved still in the roms you can download today:

We all know of Gainax as being the wonderful company that brought us Wings of Honneamise, Otaku no Video as well as multitudes of garage kits and other paraphenelia. However with the release of Princess Maker 2, one might think that their true calling is in computer software! This band of self described otakus which managed to lose almost all their profits in the anime business have come back by releasing several computer games (some of which were on display at Anime Con).

...written, of course, in 1994 :)

[identifying-cars-in-posts]

Tell us about your current and past motor vehicles

gladly! this is gonna be a long post

this was my first car, she was a 1984 mercedes 300D turbodiesel. her name was clifford, named after a button on the dash from a defunct security system. in-line five diesel engine, sounded like a truck, was built like a truck, LOVED this car. i paid $600 for her in 2016. she had 308k miles when i bought her, and she went to the scrapyard with 314k the next year when the hood latches broke while i was on the highway and sent the hood into the windshield. i was okay but the repairs were just too much for a $600 car. she was awesome though, a real head turner even with her peeling clearcoat and plumes of diesel smoke

then there was the corolla! 1999, manual transmission. the best car i’ve ever owned. not my favorite but definitely objectively the best. bought off a friend also for $600, around 210k miles. surprisingly fun to drive, very reliable. drove from north carolina to massachusetts in that car, and then across massachusetts every week. her name was wanda, which carried over from the previous owner. drover her for a little over a year before the brakes failed and i rear ended someone

i replaced the corolla with an ‘05 mazda3 i called the tick, after the cartoon character. also bought from a friend. kept it through early 2021 i think, drove it through most of early quarantine. i didn’t love this car personally, in large part because the transmission and starter both went out on me within the first two months of ownership and the friend i bought it from was entirely unsympathetic. i sold it to my shitty roommate lol

and then for some reason my mom gave me a sports car. she bought a new honda civic and handed down her 2004 subaru wrx wagon, with the manual transmission and everything. she’d named it the millennium falcon so i called her falcon. this car was a blast to whip around. that turbo boxer engine sounded amazing and this thing RIPPED on the highway. the biggest issues with it were that it really didn’t have all that much character on the road, and it took premium gas, so fill ups were EXPENSIVE. i sold her after having her for a few months because the clutch went out and i was quoted $2k to replace it because that’s what happens when you have a sports car. sold it as is to a guy with two other wrxs who wanted to fix it up and use it as a work car

this is the current baby! bit of an older picture because she looks uhhh worse these days but this is clifford jr the 2001 jeep cherokee xj. i’ve learned so much with this car, done a bunch of the work on her myself. she’s a fixer upper im reaching my limit on but she’s served me remarkably well and is my favorite car i’ve owned. not fast, not good on gas, but god she’s got some character. just rolled over 256k miles

like i said i’m reaching my wits end with the jeep, every time i fix something two more things break, and i can’t afford for her to keep being a money pit. so i’m starting to save for something else, ideally a late 80s honda or toyota, or a panther body sedan, like a ford crown victoria or mercury grand marquis

[tryingtoremembermyname]

Hello! Your crochet booksleeves are gorgeous omg!! I’ve just begun to crochet; would you recommend making booksleeves to a beginner? Also, if yes, where do you get good patterns? Thank you!!

Hi! thank you so so much love! 💓

• I think crochet booksleeves could be appropriate for a beginner, it just depends of the pattern. I personnaly started crocheting in october 2022, i wanted a granny square blanket and didn't want to spend 200 euros on one ; and i knew deep down that as someone who is very manual i would be able to learn how to make one.

youtube videos : youtube is amazing when it comes to video tutorials. having a visual of what's happening in the crochet pattern can be really helpful if you are a beginner. this is what i personnaly started with. as i said, i had this idea of a granny square blanket so i bought the yarn, found a youtube tutorials and just followed the video. it was confusing at first and i didn't understand that was happening. i didn't even try to learn the crochet term to be honest... i simply followed my muscle memory and i made granny squares after granny squares (that obviously helped me to work of the tension in my hands, so my squares became better and better). anyways, youtube tutorials are great and if you want to make your first crochet book sleeve, and 6 simple granny squares that you assemble together can be a great way to start.

pinterest : that social media is so amazing when it comes to patterns (if you feel confortable with written patterns). if you check my previous crochet post you'll see that all of my crochet booksleeves all look different, but in reality most of them are very similar, what makes a huge difference are the colours i am using. when i started getting into much harder patterns, i found a free website through pinterest with a dozen patterns of squares which changed my life. search for the Bláithín Blanket Stash from Annie Design Crochet ; most of the square you see are from her, they just look different because i play with colours as much as possible to make them look different and original.

• another great way to create crochet booksleeves (that i randomly came up with when i was taking a shower on a normal friday night) :

this design is simply 8 rectangles (I made them with half double crochet - US terms) that I assembled to together, and decorated with some appliques (same as the granny squares, appliques are really easy to find. for example type : butterfly applique crochet pattern and you’ll find dozens of them).

I really really hope this post helps you with you crochet journey, if you guys have any questions (even if you really want to find a free pattern, i’m like a pro at finding them now) do no hesitate to ask me and I will be glad to help!! 💓

[sunw00d]

yeah homm3 is a slavic thing kind of, its still definitely popular in russia poland or ukraine. compepetive homm3 is still doing well, its kind of what smash melee is to americans . the reason homm5 was the last good one is cuz ubi outsourced it to a russian studio and slavs are forged in fire to play it. its a cross generational thing. i know a lot of people who have parents that dont game but they do play h3. my dads 60 and my cousins are like 18 14 and 12 and they still crave that pendrive we pass around since the original disc broke. its from my brothers middle school friend who installed WoG on it and for some reason replaced all fortress portrairs with warcraft 3 artwork. i had to manually restore it but my dad still plays with it and wont let me fuxk wirh his files. hes also played it on mute for the last 15 years and when me and my brother bought the vinyl and played it dad perked up like a meerkat and was so confused.

i was actually one of the first kids in my preschool group to learn how to read because when my brother bought the homm123 pack in 2007 it looked so cool and he looked at me and said you know if you wanna play homm3 you gotta know how to read and so i did.

also like if you keep up with h3 news, you know the russians are behind Horn of the Abyss which just had new update and added a new town Factory based on the scrapped Forge concept and they made the most insane campaign attached to it okay i dare you to beat it cuz i gave up on mission 2 it was way too hard alright. i mean you dont gotta but this ask is long already so peace resilience love aura calm great experience friendship okay

LMAOOOO yeah i absolutely get playing it on mute. maybe i play it too much but like the noises are so repetitive that im honestly starting to hallucinate the birdsong from it when i close the game for like several hours. all the sounds are Way too recognizable too.

also yeah literally learned about forge like yesterday when i was digging through a wiki because i wanted to show how different factions looked to a friend???? it looks so bad ..... sorry maybe im picky but i just dont like it. im Gonna try to beat th campaign but im really not that good of a player yet considering i picked the game up like this month, im still making my way through the new beginning campaign, im really enjoying it but i Am struggling. ive been getting mega autistic about the game and the lore and already made like two ocs based on my playthroughs, one of them is a guy i made based on my playthrough of the campaign

[ticklinglady]

The Untold Origins are finally getting to be animated and the quality so far is wonderful!!! That's something to celebrate, guys!!! 🥳🥳🥳 Man, it is sure as hell pleasant to see our favourite BSD characters back in action and the story to finally give more development and background to the guys outside of skk and sskk. (Watch me treasure Fukuzawa's screen time, like a bag of sapphires 🤲) So, go my favourite father/son duo! You're doing great, it's your time to shine! I also really liked the way the scenes were adapted, especially the one with Ranpo getting accidentally screamed at, the facial expressions were just perfect, in my opinion 👍

However, as a light novel reader, I know that not everything, unfortunately, had the possibility of being animated. In particular that one hilarious scene in the beginning of the story, where Ranpo gets on Fukuzawa's nerves at a ridiculous level 😌 It's a pity that it didn't appear in the episode, but I don't blame the anime creators, cause I understand that there was simply not enough time for this. That's why I think it would be a nice thing for anime onlys to learn of the scene too. Everyone is out there laughing about the boy being clingy and annoying to Fukuzawa in the anime, however there he's actually barely an inconvenience compared to the little menace he is in the light novel XDDD

"Pacified Ranpo, grumbling about wanting candy - three times.

Gave in and bought him candy - two times.

Was asked how airplanes work — three times.

Convinced Ranpo, whining about his legs being too tired, to keep walking-four times.

Carried him on his back-four times.

Finally, Fukuzawa and Ranpo reached their next destination.

Along the way, Ranpo continued chattering incessantly, asking Fukuzawa for his opinion on various things, and complaining. I hate walking, I'm not cut out for manual labor, moving from place to place is such a waste of time, this is why communication technology was invented in the first place, are we not there yet, I want candy, that brand hasn't been good lately, the quality went down when new management took over, the city sucks, but the countryside sucks even more, I want to go on a sightseeing cruise, I want to feed the pigeons, are we really not there yet, I want candy, why aren't we there yet, I want candy, are you sure we're not taking the long way around-

Fukuzawa did not change his expression even once.

Having trained in and mastered both, the technical and the spiritual aspects of ancient martial arts, Fukuzawa's mental concentration could not be shaken by something as trivial as the cries of a child. It was the fruit of his daily practice. Fukuzawa simply continued to cope, without changing his expression.

As he was coping, indicating that he was listening with an occasional 'mm', on the inside, he was picking up Ranpo and throwing him far, far away. But only on the inside. Tying him up, leaving him on a street corner, and going home. But only on the inside. Opening a manhole cover, making him walk toward it, and upon hearing the whoooosh... splash, closing the manhole cover. But only on the inside. Drafting up fifty plans that all concluded with leaving Ranpo and going home alone. All of this was happening, strictly on the inside.

The more he planned and planned, the more expressionless he became. This way, he was able to keep Ranpo company without flying into a rage or yelling at him.

In the end, he managed to impress Ranpo. After looking at Fukuzawa in surprise for a while, Ranpo said:

"Old man, you're really patient, aren't you?"

That was the most dangerous moment of all. Had there been any vulnerability in Fukuzawa's mental composure, Ranpo would have already been halfway down the manhole.

It was the fruit of his daily discipline.

Thus, having walked for close to two hours, right when Fukuzawa was devising his fifty-first plan (one so violent, it would be a shame to write it here,) finally they arrived at their destination".

Just look at him. Look at this walking definition of "patience of a saint".

[seriously-mike]

Elephant on the Road

or, How I Had To Re-Learn How To Drive After Two Decades

As you know, my father died over a year ago, leaving not only his apartment with a fully-stocked fridge, but also his car - a 2000 Nissan Patrol, at that point disassembled and split between a mechanic and a body shop, with the extensive repairs paid only halfway. A year later, it was finally put back together, with 3/4s of the drivetrain replaced, the frame rust-proofed and a new coat of Raptor finish in graphite color. Then, it stood at the local parking lot for five goddamn months before I got the courage to get behind the wheel and drive it.

So holy shit, there I was, trying to wriggle a two-ton War Elephant out of its parking space, some guy's shiny new Mercedes to the left, three trucks behind me and zero knowledge how the whole thing behaves - acceleration, braking, turn radius, I knew fuck-all about that. But, with some slight fettling, I got out of the parking space, out of the parking lot's gate and OHMOTHERFUCKERITURNEDTOOHARD. Literally, I turned the steering wheel too hard, jumped the curb, ran over the remnants of a decorative fence all of four inches tall and swung the car back onto the road in the initial stages of a heart attack.

Fuck. And I mean, FFFFFFFUCK. Turned out that the two-ton War Elephant has really nice power steering for a beast slightly more than half my age and I need to turn gently. So, down the street I go, letting the pedestrians cross the road as they have the right of way on crossings without traffic lights, the brakes aren't that bad either, the soundtrack from Brutal Legend is blasting from the radio because my dad bought one with an USB port long ago and then asked me to make a thumb drive with his favorite songs on it (which I, sadly, failed to do), I'm GOING. Baby, am I going. But then, I have to turn into the large avenue and I'm all kinds of afraid what's gonna happen then.

So, apparently, the first rule of the road is "act like everyone else, and nobody will suspect you don't have a driver's license" (I actually do, for the record, I just didn't have a car for the last two decades and the last one I had to drive was a rusted-out fifth-gen Nissan Sunny with a busted manual gearbox that had issues with switching gears). So I'm rolling down the avenue, regulation 50 per (km/h, mind you), and I haven't even killed anyone yet. I'm even using turn signals, correctly, because the War Elephant has an American dashboard with two separate turn indicator lights so I know whether I'm flashing left or right. So, off to the right lane and I tuuuurn right into another avenue.

Much to my joy, I see a "Speed Limit: 80" sign on the overpass (this one is a part of the large transit road through the town), so I floor it. I floor it so eagerly to keep on the tail of the guy before me that I go all the way to 100 per before noticing and gently slow down back to 80 before hitting the tunnel.

I fucking knew I forgot something, and that something were the headlights. Halfway into the tunnel, I turn the headlight knob, swearing and hoping that no undercover cop car saw me. Okay, now we're driving 100% legit, only one car honked at me, no hits, no scrapes, I stay in my line like a motherfucking tram. Off a roundabout that isn't a fucking roundabout (who even named it like that?!), down another street and after some more uneventful ride I arrive at my dad's former apartment to pick up some junk from the basement. Hell, even parallel parking was easy because someone was nice enough to leave a car and a half's worth of space between the two already there.

I forgot to turn off the lights, as you can see in the photo, because I'm a derp and I haven't figured out what the incessant pinging after turning the engine off meant. So I take the photo, notice the lights on, open the car again, turn the lights off and head to the basement to pick up the junk.

Coming back was a bit more difficult, mostly due to me being unable to tell which of the three turns left was the correct one (note to self, it's the third one, the largest), but it resulted in an "always wanted to say that" moment when some absolute fuckwad decided to cut from the right lane all the way to the left and up the overpass, prompting me to go "Turning left from the right lane, you unschooled dickwad?! Last time I've seen idiots like you in Night City!"

[roseriot2191]

Entry 1/Introductions

hey!

so i really havent used tumblr before really so im not sure if this is the best place for what im doing but regardless im posting it here

~welcome to my blog~

the purpose is to document my life as a whole but its also my senior year so even more reason to record it!

this blog will be my safe space to spill anything, the good and the bad, of my upcoming life. in all honesty im not sure how well ill keep up with posts or how much effort ill end up putting into them but i will try to update at least once a week for sure.

ok so now onto me :)

hello again! im rose, i use he/they pronouns and i am 17. for anyone wonder, which i dont know why but i guess i can just state it to get it out of the way, im a cis queer guy. i use queer as my label because i very much dislike labels for myself lmao. im attracted to men way more often than not but if the right person for me isnt a guy the im not going to let gender/sex get in the way of love and im not sure pansexual really fits the way i feel. queerness ill say is a part of me but not something i identify with as much as i did in middle school. ill make a separate post about this perhaps. (ill mention that my name isnt actually rose irl and its just my pen name for the blog. i have no reason to be secretive really besides to hide my identity from friends, family and people who think they might know me, especially with the topics i might write about, but also i didnt put too much effort into disconnection rose and myself so if youre one of my irl friends, hi :p ) i am a high school student, but i am mostly taking college classes at a community college. im a photo major! photography is a recent thing that i started basically the same time i started college. i sorta took a leap into photo classes and decided that i might as well major in it since ive always been a creative person and since my high school was paying for my tuition. honestly college has been really fun but its school and sometimes i get burnt out really easily which sucks. ill probably talk about this more some other time. i havent really decided on a style of photography that i prefer yet but this fall ill start a portraiture lighting class as well as a color theory class, both im really excited for.

recently ive found myself changing or perhaps growing into a more typical "teenager" recently. this growth is a drastic change from who i was as a kid and that sort of scares me but i think i like the idea of who i can become. i started taking an interest in cars which sort of came out of know where. it might be because i got my license last december and have been driving a lot more but its also rooted in my ex too. (at the begging of this summer i got into a relationship with this guy who was my first everything, and we also ended it in july which hurt hella but again this is a topic for another post later) he was a total car guy and it was something we were bonding over. he would teach/talk about cars and i listened and started to take an actual interest. we went to a few car shows and it was honestly a prefect date/hangout for us because he liked cars of course but i also got to bring my camera and take photos. definitely something i miss doing. my first car was a 2004 honda pilot. it was a manual and i tried learning how to drive it and i got the gist but ended up selling it and getting an automatic 2006 honda pilot lol. this car ive had since february and its lowkey dying now which pisses me. my grandpa was the one who ended up buying it for me which i appreciate very much dont get me wrong but he bought it off these sketchy guys and didnt get it checked out right away for any problems and now im paying extra money in repairs. currently im trying to save for something more "extra" like a mustang or a bmw or honestly an older honda like a prelude or accord, though on my salary as a host in a small restaurant i have barely $4.5k saved and i started work about the same time i got the 06 pilot. i know these cars are a bit on the pricey side but im giving myself till new years to save for something and if i dont find anything by then, ill keep my money in savings for college after i graduate. (that is with the hopes my 06 pilot lasts me through that long :,) )

so yeah. i work as a host at a restaurant. its my first job and i honestly really like it. i get paid $16.50 an hour and i get tipped out by the waitresses on top of that. on average i make about $500 in a pay period which is two weeks. i wish i had more hours but also i dont. i usually use work as an excuse to procrastinate or completely ignore school work which is really self destructive because i convince myself that im productive but in reality i need to be more focused on school. my work ethic is pretty good though i think. i always say yes if someone needs a cover or if i need to come in ealry/on a day off. after the break up i took a bunch of extra shifts and started taking caterings for longer hours and to keep me busy. in the past 2 pay periods i clocked about 50 hours each and made $850 each. this has again been really nice for savings but not for my summer classes. this pay period i had a double catering and i should clock in about 40 ish hours. ill have one more pay period after this one before i will talk to my manager about scheduling me only friday-sunday and see about scheduling me caterings more rather than hosting since i make more that way. theyre pretty good about accommodating hours/days which is really cool but my manager always complains. i feel bad but also i really shouldnt because i need to do better in school first and i already do so much more than what i get paid for honestly so she really doesnt have any reason to say anything. (especially since we just hired 3 new girls after the summer hires left) all my coworkers love me but also everyone shit talks eachother behind their backs so i always wonder if they say anything about me lol. if they are then they should put that energy somewhere else because how are you guys gonna shit talk a 17 year old when you all are 25+???

my music taste is the opposite in regards to changing drastically. i find myself returning to the music i grew up with and even expanding with similar artists. for a quick family overview my step dad who raised me since i was three was/is a tattoo artist and very much in the punk scene. my mom was in the artistic performance and alternative scene. both these adults raised a very punk baby with all the classics and now like i said, after not really interested or listening to music often for awhile, im back to my roots. this is very comforting however when me and my ex were dating he was a big influence in the reintroduction. so do i corrilate some music to him? yes. does it hurt? im not sure. its very confusing but i listen to it on blast regardless and will most likely have hearing problems by the time im 30 T~T a lot of what ive been listening to on repeat is radiohead which was "our band" and i still think it is. im a very sentimental person and cant/wont diconnect these feelings probably ever. i do this a lot. this time though i havent had the urge to stop listening which is a reliefe because i enjoy the music but also because i think itd hurt me if i found hate or sadness in the music rather than the love and bond we once shared through these songs. something ive been considering is posting a song with every post or at the very least at the end of the week. maybe even a playlist at the end of the month? not sure yet. i think music tatse is something that changes with me all the time so its something worth recording here. oh also i def will post cd hauls here too! i have a small collection started but definetely wanna get more.

lets see i dont read often but my favorite books are alice in wonderland, the warden's daughter, they both die at the end, coraline and currently i am reading solitaire by alice oseman. ive read her heartstopper series and have taken a serious interest in tori's story. for my favorite shows i binge watch shows so often and then forget about them just as fast as i watch them lol. i really like soul eater, downtown, daria, the midnight gospel, the walking dead, initial d, madoka magica, and some others i cant think of right now.

hmm~ i cant really think about anything else to write at the moment, plus ive been typing for awhile and should get to bed, so i think ill end it here.

i dont really expect anyone to read this blog in all honesty but its something i wanna do for myself and if a few people take interest or relate to anything i talk about i think thats enough :)

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (727): Thu 14th Mar 2024

Up early for a driving lesson. I already have my full driving license but I haven't driven for over ten years and so I've decided to take a few lessons to jog my memory and work off the rust to make sure I don't accidentally kill someone (if I kill someone with a car I want it to be fully intentional). The instructor arrived at 9AM and seemed flabbergasted at the fact that I hadn't driven in so long. I explained to him that I just preferred motorbikes and that I was never able to shake the urge to look down at the gearstick when I needed to change gear. I asked him whether or not he thought it might be better for me to get an automatic car and he said in his opinions manual cars are better but I think he might have just said this to mae sure I didn't ditch him to start learning how to drive automatics (which to be honest I probably still will. I only booked a few lessons with this guy because I couldn't find an automatic driving instructor in time). Very early in the lesson he told me that in any gear above first if you ease all the way off the clutch and the ignition then the car will move forward on it's own. This must be a fairly new thing because I'm certain that when I was taking lessons with my old instructor Joe if you did this then the car would definintely stall. I was understandably a little bit nervous and sometimes unaware of how sensitive the pedals were but for the most part I drove with caution and didn't make any major mistakes. I've got another lesson booked in with this guy next Wednesday but I'm still going to try and find an automatic driving instructor in the mean time because to be honest having to change gears all the time was still bugging me. To be honest I can't for the life of me understand why you would bother building cars with manual gearboxes if you have the ability to build cars that change gears automatically.

When I got back in the house I watched last nights Dynamite which featured the eardrum shattering debut of Mercedes Mone FKA Sasha Banks. The crowd gave her a thunderous ovation and I have to admit that hearing an arena full of people chant "CEO" is pretty cool. This nickname is a nice play off her old WWE character but with a twist. I was really disappointed when CM Punk got fired as I thought he was a perfect fit for AEW and if utilised correctly could be the key to AEW bridging the gap between itself and WWE. However I think Ospreay, Okada, Mercedes and main event Swerve and Wardlow should more than fill the gap IF they are booked well. This evening I ordered a pizza and about fifteen minutes later I saw a guy with a delivery rucksack pull up outside my house on a pedal bike and gesture to me to ask if I''d ordered food. I thought this guy must pedal faster than Lance Armstrong if he's managed to get from the city centre to my house after only fifteen minutes and also the staff at La Dolce Vita must have bought a new superpowered oven to have cooked the fucker in less than fifteen minutes. As I suspected though the guy had the wrong house and it was a McDonalds delivery that he had in his rucksack. It’s a good thing I’m not an arsehole or else I could have just kept it and treated myself to two dinners. Once my pizza finally arrived I tuned into last night's Hollyoaks. At one point Leela was complaining to Peri about Joel's behaviour and Peri told her that she was 37 and she wasn't likely to meet another guy like Joel so she should just get over it. I could have forgiven Peri for covering for her killer boyfriend and for almost killing Dave but age shaming her goddess mother Leela by implying that 37 is not young? Now she has gone too far! Elsewhere Tony was consoling Ste over his guilt with a relaxing cup of tea. I put the following hypothetical scenario on Twitter:

Tony: Here drink this it'll make you feel better Ste: I CAN'T HANDLE THE GUILT ANYMORE I NEED TO GET THIS OFF MY CHEST! Tony:

There was also some more sinister shit with Frankie and JJ and to be honest now that I know that JJ has been sexually abusing his own sister, future episodes with these characters are going to be a tough watch. I know soaps are always heavy on the drama but JJ, Ste and Joel all going through the worst shit imaginable. Is it too much to ask for the odd lighthearted storyline to offset the tragedy every now and again? I will say though that watching Warren doesn't feel like much of a chore any more given his empending departure. For the first time in a long time I haven't muted the sound and watched a YouTube video while Warren is on screen because I know that he's leaving soon!

[bisluthq]

What kind of renovation stuff did you do? Did you do any electrical and did you replace any windows? My parents house has had a broken window, the glass is all cracked/shattered inside the frame, since I moved out 12 years ago and they're just Ignoring it lmao. How did you learn what you needed to do, read a lot of books?

I’ve replaced glass before (didn’t have to this time but like when I was a teen I broke a window while practicing tennis against like the house exterior wall lol because my ass was too lazy to go down to the tennis club which was like 3KM from my house and I’d have had to cycle to but I really liked whacking a ball around and thought it made me better at tennis and then my parents in what actually was good parenting bought me supplies and told me to sort it out) and it wasn’t too hard. It was single pane, double glazed would be a lot harder. I don’t think I could fix one like that myself. Or those weird European swivel windows like I also dk how to fix them. Single pane should be relatively easy so if that’s what you have Google it and do it or call someone in because it shouldn’t be that expensive like idk just do it for your parents. If it’s double glazed or the weird swivel one lol then they can deal with it themselves or fix it if you feel charitable.

I didn’t do any electrical wiring - my bf did quite a lot (like he wired the gate himself so it’s on sensors and shit and he wired these cute LED lights and a chandelier thingie, but any movement of major things - which we had to do because this house was ancient and stupidly laid out - had to be done by someone who could sign off because I don’t want to have a house fire lol) and again I don’t know how and I was scared because I have had a house fire in an apartment that turned out to lack earth leakage before.

We broke down a lot of walls and the ceiling which professionals did because engineering wise we didn’t feel comfortable removing walls unless it was deemed safe by people who know what they’re doing and he’s great at electronics and tech and a lot of diy too but like the guy’s not an engineer lol. Knowing how computers work and cameras work and now how AI tools work does not equip one to rip out a ceiling.

Except for the ceiling, which having been ripped out was very high, I did all the painting. I ripped out the carpets myself (they were those manky 70s ones lol so it was extraordinarily satisfying) and then I fixed bits of the old parquet floor myself with chunks of wood I bought and varnish and in the lounge/kitchen we replaced it with vinyl flooring which the company we bought it from installed. I retiled part of the bathroom myself but I need to finish it because I started it too early and then it got a bit messed up when plumbing was moved.

We had to get plumbers in but they were useless and I wish I’d learned from books with that. I’d have saved my effort on the plumbing at least.

I installed shutters myself because his mum gifted us her ones that she didn’t want anymore and I got a bee in my bonnet about putting them in. I also repainted them.

idk it was a lot of work and I’m probably forgetting some stuff but like it was manual labour which idk as I say my parents and step-parents were all always big “you break it you fix it” people so that was fine and a lot of research and getting quotes and making sure these people actually came and did what we wanted them to.

There are things my bf still needs to do that I can’t and we don’t want to get contractors for - like he started on trimming the stairs in like wooden trim but each bit needs to be cut out and measured perfectly and I really don’t have the patience or the eye for it and he also wants to make new railings for it (we had the others removed but he wants to make one himself but like he never has time lollll so now we just don’t have railings) and we’ll probably be busy for like another year but it’s been fun to do it ourselves and with stuff we want and not through a big company or something. We’ve worked out that if we’d spent all the Reno money + the bond + deposit we’d actually have been able to afford a place that needed less renovations lol BUT it wouldn’t have been as us as this is and that wouldn’t have been worth it. Like we could’ve gotten a livable condo but eh this place has wound up being our little weird barbie dream house so that’s better.

[sfbanana]

Were can i get planet coaster cracked for free

#Were can i get planet coaster cracked for free manual#

#Were can i get planet coaster cracked for free Pc#

If the younger person who created it decides to call it something else.? I've still no idea how best to find what I'm looking for without stumbling upon it by accident. The workshop seems to be the go-to place to find many pre-made scenery pieces but is extremely difficult to navigate with the sheer number (50,000?+- and growing!!) of available creations. Playing a game for many hours and having only a building or two to show for my time is disappointing, to say the least. I haven't found anything in-game that helps to lessen the frustration.

#Were can i get planet coaster cracked for free Pc#

I enjoyed building in T3 but the time it takes and the number of pieces required to create a reasonable building or piece of scenery in PC is absurd and gets quite tedious after a few hours.Īs much as I love the grids for building I wish there was an overall grid so that buildings and scenery could be arranged in a symmetical manner if I chose to do that. I played RCTycoon 3 for several years and as much as I enjoy and appreciate Planet Coaster, the lack of intuitive controls and the amount of miscellaneous scenery and building material is often overwhelming. It's tough when you get to be our age, Werewolf. "maybe 'cuz I'm 65 and don't think like younger folks anymore" PC is just too darn pretty and ridin' the rides is just too darn fun to give up on it. Yet they couldn't put together a cardboard cutout puzzle or solve a simple simultaneous equation if their life depended on it. It's little stuff like that that doesn't make any sense to me (maybe 'cuz I'm 65 and don't think like younger folks anymore - some of the puzzles I've seen in games my grand kids play are just plain wierd to me - requires a different thought process and a way of seeing things that I just don't get but they do. Got a notification that one of the bathrooms I placed wasn't accesible from the entrance gate - YEAH - it was so must be something else going on but what? Didn't buy a puzzle - bought a construction set. So I figured I either had to research them (which would really be a dumb thing to have to research) or find them in a list somewhere - nope - no joy. It's things like I wanted benches for the guests to sit on but they were nowhere to be found in all the assetts I looked thru. Thanks guys but controls aren't really the issue. Without instructions or a decent walk thru tutorial - COME ON? Or maybe there is one and I've just not stumbled across it yet? I'm embarassed (but not ashamed) to say that so far all Planet Coaster has bought me is nothing but frustration after the initial awe and wonder wore off. Want me to mine financial data, organize it, analyze it, summarize it and present an analysis of it to some really smart people who make more money in a day than I do in a year (and I make a whole lot more than your average bear ) - I can do it. I know - I could probably go to youtube and watch some user created tutorials but why should one have to do that (besides my prime learning mode is reading/doing - not watching)? Why isn't the learning material included with the game?

#Were can i get planet coaster cracked for free manual#

No manual - what the heck is it with game companies these days? Is trial by error the latest fad or are they just too lazy and/or too cheap to put together at least some simple instructions to help those new to this sort of thing get started. Best looking construction set I've ever seen and based on the stuff I've seen other players build one of the most complete and. 1st off let me say that I am impressed by Planet Coaster.

[supercunninglinguist]

BACK FROM HIATUS

Even though I never declared one. my schedule was kept pretty full, so updating this blog wasn’t a priority. c’est la vie. but here I am.

2018 has had a weird start. but it’s an alright year so far, I guess.

Still living in Viet Nam. I drive a motorcycle now, a Hanamoto Nam, originally built in Laos. it’s helped me grow a new appreciation for mechanical systems, plus purchase price and self-maintenance is cheaper than renting a scooter. Recently, I’ve been pondering ways to bring advanced data science to corporations in this country as an industrial data analyst. it’s definitely possible, but, as a foreigner, there would be some significant hurdles to jump through. I also make money on the side by distilling natural insecticides (how I paid for my motorcycle!), and I’m really getting into vaporwave music.

My Vietnamese hasn’t really improved. I know some new words now and I can speak simple sentences, but it’s difficult to actually converse with Vietnamese individuals. even when I try my best to replicate proper tones and speech, they rarely recognize that I’m even trying to speak Vietnamese, and inevitably someone who speaks English comes over to help. literally every foreigner here that I have met who speaks fluent Vietnamese originally learned either by dating a Vietnamese person, or by taking classes. and since I don’t really have time to date or take classes... high regional diversity makes learning even more difficult. several times, I’ve learned words or phrases from one Vietnamese person and later been told by another Vietnamese person that “nobody would say it like that” or “people from [district\province\area] say that.” there’s some small phonetic\phonological differences between regiolects that can significantly impede acquisition.

Starting back in September, I wrote a new doctorate research project, and starting sending it to linguistics faculties in mid-November. the first version I sent out was not as good as it should have been, but subsequent revisions are much better. unfortunately, out of approximately 60 faculties (~40 linguistics faculties) that I contacted, none have shown interest. I haven’t sent an application in months, and I still receive a new rejection every 2-3 weeks. 5 soft categories of responses were noted: 1) This faculty does not focus on this research area, which is fine; 2) this is great and all but there’s nobody at this faculty who can supervise your project (which includes this faculty does not have the resources for a doctorate project like this), also fine, sure whatever; 3) This doesn't seem feasible\tractable\realistic\possible\logical\valid, which usually also included a hefty dose of you need to prove that this will work before we will even consider it, seems highly unfair, especially since the methods I’m advocating are already in use for 15 years and the citations for that are already in the proposal, plus how do I get the fucking data without an institution to back me up!? l; 4) This faculty is not interested in your project, fair enough, thats alright; 5) I can’t even understand what you’re proposing, like, come on, I know it’s complex and dense, but there’s a lot to say, and I did it with only 4 pages - did you try skimming any of the references or try using google or wikipedia? The worst response so far came from Dr. Mattis List, who literally just flat out responded with “this isn’t going to work”, and fallaciously attacked a very simplified example that I gave to him in order to help him understand the core concept of my proposal. Neither Dr. Heggarty nor Dr. Gray were particularly interested. Dr. Gerhard Jaeger had a fairly friendly response, but still questioned how feasible it actually is. My response to questions about tractability (which is a genuine concern, since a model must be economical in order to be feasible) has been: do you really think we can generate better resolutions for language typology, history, and ecology by retaining simple models and basic levels of information? Modelling a complex system requires a level of data that reflects the complexity of the source system. Groundbreaking results don’t just appear - innovations are required. after receiving rafts of negative, even some outright hostile, responses (mostly mocking my reductionist perspective on language), my opinion is that mainstream linguistics is ignoring this fact, and ignoring the additional fact that there are already methods for modelling complex systems, like human speech. and that these methods are already verified and in-use. so I’ve given up on rejoining the field of linguistics. y’alls be some orthodox mothafuckas, ya know that? Y’all like to pretend that you’ve moved past the formalist conceptions and theories of language but you really haven’t. There’s still a large and apparently high-level portion of the linguistics community that actively spurns the philosophy of computationalism and experimentation, who think that it’s a fad, and who also don’t even see the problems inherent to currently used methods (or don’t see them as problematic). I, on the other hand, think interdisciplinary linguistics is a better linguistics. or moreso, better to adopt methods from other disciplines than to have those disciplines steal chunks of research potential from linguistics. or better to be that person who steals chunks of research potential from linguistics for another field.

However, I might try new applications for 2018, but I’m really tired of dealing with academia. I turn 30 this year. I don’t have time to waste personalizing applications or writing 10 different variations on a research proposal to please every possible faculty that could be interested. at least if I present my ideas as a commercial venture to someone with dollar signs in their eyes, they’re going to see the potential dollar signs; that’s a hell of a lot better than an exhausted researcher who has exactly 2 days to review 80 reasonable doctorate candidates and their projects and choose which to actually consider. a close friend told me to not even bother with applying to linguistics faculties for next time, and I think he’s right. I might focus more on applying to mathematics and computer science faculties.

Here in Viet Nam, during the summer, air conditioning and mosquito spray\incense are your friends. Will exposing yourself to DEET and other synthetic insecticides possibly harm your body in currently-immeasurable\unknown ways? possibly, even probably; you know what will harm your body in currently-measurable\known ways? Getting dengue fever because you’re being bitten by at least 30 mosquitoes every night.

buying vegetables and fruits at the Cho (local open market) is so much cheaper and fun than the grocery store, but beware: unless the shopkeepers see that you’re a regular, a lot of them will try to rip you off. it can be annoying. but keep in mind: unless you can converse in Vietnamese with them, they’re almost always taking some extra time to help you obtain your products, so don’t be salty if you pay the foreigner-price; for a very large purchase at a cho, it’ll be maybe 35,000 VND extra.

guys, I can’t believe that there are only 2 episodes of Adventure Time left!

not much else to report on or to say at this time. if anyone in the tumblr science community is in a position to read and advance my proposal to a particular faculty, I’ll gladly email it to you, but I’m not making it publically available yet, and I would rather it not be shared or given to anyone without my consent first. I’ve already received some warnings - naming even specific faculties - about having my proposal unscrupulously stolen, and I have enough unfriendly acquaintances throughout linguistic academia that, yes, it is something I have to be worried about.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

What We See - Part 4

Summary: Marc and Steven have returned to their flat in London shortly after everything in Cairo. But there's just something Steven can't get out of his head. What really happened when they both blacked out?

Steven and Marc discuss the possibility of a third. How can they cope with being three when they still need to learn to be two?

Warnings: I don't know. You watched the show. All of that.

Pairing: Layla saves the day. 

Word count:  1982

Part one here. Part two here. Part three here.

PART FOUR: Investigative efforts lead to surprises. Also Marc gets to find out what it felt like for poor Steven. He's having a bad day.

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“What if it’s booby trapped?” Steven stared at the car, hand worrying at the key he was clutching tightly. 

“Why would it be booby trapped?” Marc’s expert eyes looked the car over carefully, despite himself. No signs of a car bomb. No wires or hair triggers. It was an older model car, probably second hand. Hopefully bought and not stolen. Manual stick. Parked carefully in a reserved spot. 

Marc made a mental note to try to keep better tabs on his money. It was obvious the Jake fellow was getting money from somewhere. He was no good with financial stuff. Most of his earnings were in cash stuffed into various duffle bags. Maybe Steven knew a financial guy they could trust… Hell, maybe Steven would be good with it. 

“Marc?” Steven held up the key. 

“Right.” He forced himself to focus. “You said his stuff was in the trunk?” 

“Looked like it.” Layla was peering into the driver side window. 

Marc moved to the back of the car and slid the key in. There was a moment of hesitation before he unlocked it. 

His heart pounded as worries started to rise up. What would they find? His irrational worries supplied images of dead bodies, a mess of guns and ammo, body parts, maybe even someone zip tied and stashed in the back. 

Was it so irrational? These were things he had seen. Things he had done. Memories came up of hot lands and the smell of gunfire. 

“Marc!” Steven’s voice was so close. He snapped back to the present and shook his head to clear away the past. “Marc, are you alright? Do you want me to do this?” 

There was no way Marc was going to let Steven have control. This was dangerous. He had to be on the ready. “It’s fine. I can handle this.” 

“Don’t know what’s to handle. We’re just looking for clues. Maybe I should be the one looking. I’m good at clues. Looking for them I mean.” Steven smiled from the dusty back window. 

“I said no!” Marc’s voice was louder than he meant it, making Layla look back at him in concern. 

He ignored the look Steven gave him and threw open the trunk. 

A nice leather jacket was neatly folded with a flat cap sitting on top. A pair of driving gloves were neatly set next to the jacket. 

Marc picked up the cap and a wallet fell out. It was black leather, old but well tended to. He stared at the wallet for a moment, knowing that answers could be tucked away inside. 

He reached out for it, and noticed his fingers were trembling. He took a slow breath and steadied himself. “Alright, buddy. Who are you?” 

Layla appeared at his side and leaned in, eager to see what he found. Was this how Steven felt when he found the storage locker? Looking into a life that wasn’t his filled with secrets that he might not want to know? 

He opened the wallet and stared down at the ID card. Down into a face that was and wasn’t his. Hair slicked back, eyes dark, lips tight, and a focus that scared him. 

“Jake Lockley.” Layla read off. “I’ve met him. Briefly. Maybe a year back? You just got back from a mission and I caught you sneaking off. Thought you were going drinking or something. I wonder how many other times I’ve seen him.” 

“Why does everyone get a license but me?” Steven squinted at the ID skeptically. “I know I can’t drive but this hardly seems fair. I’ve driven. I should have a license.” 

Layla smiled and put a hand on their shoulder. “We can go see the forger later. Alright?” 

“I’d like that.” Steven flipped through the wallet, pulling out various cards. “He’s got a punch card for that diner down the street. One more punch and he’ll get a free pie slice!” 

Layla raised an eyebrow. “There’s a cup of coffee in the center holder. Considering what hours I saw him leaving your flat, I’m not surprised if he lives on the stuff. You both really need to work on your sleep schedules. I’m a little worried about how much sleep you all operate on.” 

“My old library card!” Steven held up a card. “I thought I’d lost it! He’s nicked my card! You never nicked anything from me, did you Marc?” 

Marc frowned. “Why would I? I’m the one that bought you the flat.” 

“Wait, what’s this?” Layla pulled a different ID out from behind the first one. “This is a cab driver license from Chicago.” 

“He’s a cabbie?” Steven took the license. “Well at least he’s making his own income. I kind of respect that actually.” 

“Great. I’ll make him pay half the rent.” Marc put everything back in the wallet and tossed it back into the trunk. “What now? How do we get rid of him?” 

“You can’t just get rid of him.” Steven looked appalled. “He has a right to be here. Who knows how long he’s been here. Could have grown up with us for all we know!” 

“He didn’t grow up with us.” Marc snapped. “I’d remember something like that.” 

“I certainly don’t remember you.” Steven pointed to Layla. “I didn’t even know you had a wife! And it sounds like this Jake fellow has met her! He seems to know more about it all than either of us do. Who knows what memories he has. Maybe he could help us. Maybe he knows more about…you know… All that.” 

Marc glanced at Layla. He still hated having these moments in front of her. Was she judging him? Did she think it was strange? Maybe she had second thoughts about the whole situation. Maybe… 

“I don’t want to have this conversation right now, Steven.” Marc shut the trunk and moved to unlock the driver’s side door. 

“Steven has a point, Marc.” Layla leaned against the car, arms crossed. “You can’t just dismiss him without knowing him. He’s built a life, even if it was in secret.” 

“We don’t know what he’s doing! Leaving at all hours of the night? Sneaking off and doing…I don’t know! That’s the whole thing isn’t it? We don’t know what he’s doing!” Marc opened the door and was met by the faint smell of old coffee and car air freshener. 

“He’s a cabbie.” Steven leaned in and looked around the inside of the car curiously. “How bad can he be? He’s driving people around and hoping for good tips! Kinda growing on me now, the more I think about it. Neat cap too. He’s got a look, Marc. Very sleek sense of style.” 

Marc took a slow deep breath and looked at Layla. “Can I have a moment? Please. I need to… To have a chat with Steven.” He gave her a very forced smile. 

“Are you serious?” Layla looked around then back at him. 

“Excuse me.” Marc got into the driver seat and shut the door then locked it. He then grabbed the rearview mirror and yanked it to get a better look at himself. A deep exhale and Steven was pushed to the back. 

“Oh, are we back to this?” Steven stared at him from the mirror. “Are you cross with me?” 

Marc didn’t answer. He didn’t know what he was. Was he angry? If so, why? 

Steven looked out the window at Layla. “You’re scared. I understand. I really do. I was you just a bit ago. I didn’t know what you were. Where you were coming from. I was angry. I thought, ‘How dare this person take away my life’. I wanted to get rid of you.” 

Marc gripped the steering wheel tightly, running his fingers across the worn leather. Did it feel familiar? Would it trigger any memories of the other? Maybe this was all just some bad dream. It was just him and Steven. Always had been. He didn’t need anyone else. No one else threatening the peace they had found. 

Why was Steven so eager to let someone else mess that up? 

Steven moved to the side mirror. “I’m glad you didn’t go away. You know that, right? I’m glad to know you. We’re a team, Marc. You and I.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know.” Marc clenched his jaw. “About me. About…You know. Things I’ve done. You don’t become a mercenary because you hate violence. I was good at violence. Before Khonshu. Khonshu chose me because of what I could do.” 

Steven sighed and looked down. “I don’t care about all that. It’s in the past, right? I mean, don’t like thinking about people getting hurt, but I can’t go back in time and tell you to stop. You did things that you felt you had to do at the time to survive. You don’t do that anymore.” 

“What if he does?” Marc started to shuffle around, looking for anything hidden. “He was there. He was there when I was in the military. It had to be him. Which means he was there when I was a mercenary too. He knows how to fight. We’ve seen what he does there.” 

“Doesn’t mean he liked it.” Steven shrugged. “You were there when I studied ancient Egyptian. You barely knew who Khonshu was.” 

Marc reached under his seat and his hand found something far too familiar. He undid the strap and slowly pulled up the gun. 

“Okay, Marc? That doesn’t mean anything. He’s a cabbie. Maybe that comes standard so you don’t get robbed.” Steven leaned in. 

Marc held up the gun and stared at it for a moment. Distantly he could hear Steven trying to make sense of it. He could hear a gentle tapping on the window next to him and Layla calling to him. 

Marc pushed hard and grabbed the mirror. “You in there? Huh? You watching this? Getting nervous I hope? That we’re here touching your stuff?” He held up the gun. “This yours? Jake is it? I’m talking to you! What do you do all the time, huh? Hunting down the bad guys? Leaving a trail of bodies for me to find later? I’m keeping this! You hear me? I’m going to stash this away and…And set fire to your stupid car! You got that? I’m going to burn you and your stupid car to the ground! FUEGO!” 

Marc slammed open the door. “I’m going to do it. He thinks I won’t.” He got out and walked around the car, trying to come up with a way to set fire to it. “I’ve done more with less.” 

“Marc!” Layla followed behind him. “Marc listen to me. You are overreacting. You need to calm down.” 

“I’m not going to let this stand, Layla!” The stress was barely contained as he moved to pop the hood. “I’m not a killer. I don’t do that anymore.” 

“Marc let’s talk about this. You can’t just destroy his car! Marc!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him away just as he was about to start ripping things out. 

“I am going to destroy everything of his if I have to.” Marc pointed at the car with the gun. “I don’t want him. I don’t want this.” 

Steven’s voice full of concern floated through his head. “Come on Marc, put the gun down. Just let him alone.” 

“Marc you are making a scene.” Layla looked around and lowered his arm. “Someone is going to call the police if you don’t stop waving that gun around!” 

A memory floated up. His dad’s face, concerned, troubled, disappointed. “Marc you have to stop this. You’re making a scene. If you just calm down we’ll take care of this.”

His chest tightened. His vision blurred. Somewhere he heard a voice with a thick accent and full of controlled rage. 

“Fuego, ¿eh? ¿Quieres jugar con fuego?” 

The world blacked out. 

[highdramas]

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

--

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”