#ITS NOT PRONOUNCED WILLIAM

[lyledebeast]

The way this guy pronounces "Tarleton" is a war crime. "Dragoons," too.

@meerawrites, @malicious-compliance-esq in keeping with our theme!

[mourning-again-in-america]

google v. gonzalez asking the tough questions like "how to pronounce pilaf?"

[letter-from-afar]

The Meaning Of Villains' Names (ft Vogel)

Inspired by the post @.cherryisagamer made for Ikemen Prince here

Take most of these with a grain of salt, because of Cybird's weird naming tendancy as well as how names are in most cases are perceived in various ways by everyone. Also included extra information because I'm a silly little nerd.

Name: William Rex

Meaning:

“William” meaning “resolute protection/protector”

“Rex” meaning “king”

William is actually German in origin. It derives from the Germanic Wilhelm, whose roots wil (“will, desire”) and helm (“helmet, protection”) combine to mean “resolute protector”

Name: Liam Evans

Meaning:

“Liam” is the Irish short form of “William”, therefore same meaning as him

“Evans” meaning “the Lord is gracious”

Evans is a boy’s name of Welsh origin. An Anglicized form of Ifan, which stems from the Hebrew John, it translates to “graced by Yahweh” or “God is gracious.”

Name: Harrison Gray (I had to go check if his last name was with an e or a)

Meaning:

"Harrison" meaning “son of Harry”

“Gray” meaning... it's literally for the colour. Funny how game uses the US spelling for it

Name: Elbert Greetia

Meaning:

“Elbert”, a variation of Albert, meaning “noble; bright”

“Greetia”... I couldn't find any info about it. It's made up I presume.

This masculine name has Old English and German roots, coming from the name Albert. Translating to “bright,” “noble,” or “famous.”

Name: Alfons Sylvatica

Meaning:

“Alfons” (there are many variants btw) meaning “noble; ready; brave”

“Sylvatica” comes from the scientific name for forget-me-nots, “Myosotis sylvatica”

Alphons is a masculine name of German origin. Composed of apalaz and funsaz, it means “ready for battle,” “noble,” and “brave.” This sweet moniker is thought to be ultimately derived from the Latin Alphonsus and boasts a wide variety of variants, such as Alfonso, Alfonzo, and Alphonso.

Name: Roger Barel

Meaning:

“Roger” meaning “famous warrior”

“Barel”... I couldn't find reliable sources. Or maybe it does have an obscure meaning.

This name is forged from the German elements hrod and ger, imbuing it with the striking translation of "famous spearman."

Name: Jude Jazza

Meaning:

“Jude” meaning “praised” and praised is he in the jp server

“Jazza”... I think saw a post here saying how it's a form of Jeremy? But I can't find it now. There's something similar in Arabic I found however, “Jaza” (pronounced differently, there's not much emphasis on the Z afaik) meaning “reward; recompense; good return” which I find fitting his themes of retribution for those not keeping promises and debts, how he keeps all his promises etc.

Name: Ellis Twilight

Meaning:

“Ellis” meaning “kind; benevolent”

“Twilight” in its literal sense, “dusk”. His eyes contains a similar colour palette + I believe it is a reoccurring theme with him

Name: Victoria

Meaning: “Victor” meaning “conqueror”

Victor is one of the earliest Christian names, borne (as Vittorio) by several saints and popes, symbolizing Christ's victory over death. Victor made it big in the English-speaking world during the reign of Queen Victoria, one of the few boys’ names popularized by a female version.

Name: Darius Vogel

Meaning:

“Darius” meaning “possessing goodness; maintains possessions well”

“Vogel”... German for “bird”.

Name: Nica Schwarz/Schwartz (I tried to do some research and it seems like both spellings are used. Please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Before we go in, I'd like to tell you that there's no single general meaning for his name. It could be the short form of something or entirely new. Both variations, i.e Nika and Nica yield separate results. And many sources claim differently. I've put together what sounds believable to some extent.

Meaning:

“Nica/Nika” meaning “true image; victory; very good; pure crystal water”

“Schwarz/Schwartz” meaning “black”

Name: Ring Schwarz/Schwartz

...Cybird has made questionable choices. So I went with what sounded nearest to his name: Lynn (it's so so much cuter for him)

Meaning:

“Ring” meaning “a small circular band, typically of valuable metal”

“Lynn” meaning “lake, waterfall, pool below a waterfall”

“Schwarz/Schwartz”... German for “black”

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A First Nation in B.C.'s Interior has received more than $147 million from the federal government after more than 20 years of fighting for the acknowledgement of its water rights. The Esk'etemc (pronounced es-KET-em) First Nation, located southwest of Williams Lake, B.C., first filed with Specific Claims, which deals with past wrongs against First Nations in Canada, in 2003, raising issues arising from being prevented from completing an irrigation ditch in the 1890s.  In 1881, land was set aside for Wycott's Flat Indian Reserve #6 and the agreement noted that all the water flowing out of a nearby lake was reserved for the Esk'etemc Nation, according to Anispiragas Piragasanathar, a spokesperson for Crown-Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs Canada.  The Esk'etemc Nation said all the water from Vert Lake, southeast of the reserve, was promised to the Esk'etemc for irrigation as part of a reserve land agreement. The First Nation started digging in the 1890s, but after two years of work and just one kilometre away from completion, it was told it had to stop.  "It was devastating," lawyer Stan Ashcroft told CBC's Daybreak Kamloops guest host Doug Herbert. "I mean, after all that effort to be told you can't continue, when I talked to the elders, they said it was completely devastating." The irrigation ditch has lain dormant since, according to the First Nation. 

Continue Reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[intothedysphoria]

He practically lived in the laundromat.

Steve saw him frequently. Not in like a creepy way. In a sad and lonely way. Because that’s what Steve was. Sad and lonely.

He wore denim and leather and drove an electric blue Camaro and an ornate cross hung from his neck and he was very obviously gay.

The surname was something Steve couldn’t pronounce. Irish. Not anglicised. It had used to be Hargrove apparently. It wasn’t anymore.

The first name was so ordinary though. William. Billy.

Steve sometimes said hello to him, in between watching Rick and Morty on Netflix. Billy would say hello back. Fairly uninterested but polite.

The conversations were usually limited to complaining about professors or the industrial washing machines.

“Alright man?”

“Yeah I’m ok. That new history assignment is a bitch to complete.”

“Damn. See you in next weeks seminar.”

If Steve had half the balls he had in high school, he’d ask him out for a drink. Beer, coffee, hot chocolate. Anything really.

Instead, he gave an awkward thumbs up as that perfectly tanned back walked into the distance.

The next time they met, Billy’s bag split.

There was a significant hole, books struggling to escape as Billy stood, looking crestfallen. And Steve had an idea.

“I could fix it for you. If you want.”

The look on Billy’s face said that Steve could have personally hung each and every star.

The benefits of being a drag queen.

It wasn’t a hard fix at the end of the day but it really was a charming satchel. Pins of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Pokémon sat proudly at the top. He really was a fucking nerd.

Billy hugged him when Steve handed the bag back. It felt soft and warm and genuinely affectionate. None of those things were about to be complained about.

He turned up at Steve’s next drag show. A gay bar Billy never frequented. He was usually at the one which was full to the brim of guys who really liked leather. Not Steve’s one with its terrible 80s night and constant inter club bickering.

Billy told him he liked the show afterwards. The one where Steve had done a cheer routine to Teenagers by My Chemical Romance. He’d make sure to visit again with what Steve thought might have been a wink.

Maybe. He wasn’t 100 sure. Maybe he just had a severe squint.

Billy would now come to sit right next to Steve in seminars. Notebook filled with calligraphy and tiny doodles. Steve’s hopelessly dyslexic handwriting felt exceedingly ugly in comparison. Billy just told him it was unique.

That was one way of putting it. Billy was very kind. And probably went after guys like McKinney or Munson or Tommy. Not Steve.

It didn’t stop Steve from giggling like a schoolgirl whenever Billy gave him a compliment. Which hopefully Billy had chosen to ignore.

Robin set him up on a date after Steve came over with an entire pint of strawberry milkshake and cried on her sofa. Given the amount of time Steve had been on testosterone, he could not just blame it on his period. His period had ended for good like last year.

Jonathan was funny. He was a bit of a nerd, loved old horror films and in any other circumstance, Steve would be enamoured. This was not any other circumstance.

Not when Steve was thinking about Billy being on a date with any other guy. Someone who wasn’t him.

Steve ditched the date halfway through then spent the rest of the evening thinking about how he was a horrible person. Surprisingly, that didn’t help his situation.

Billy asked if he was ok. Of course Steve was ok. Why wouldn’t he be. Nothing wrong here.

Carol asked if he wanted a live laugh love mug and a pink sweater. Steve took the hint.

Telling Billy in theory was easy. Telling Billy in practice was fairly difficult.

He told Billy in the laundromat. Painfully unromantic. Just asked him out for drinks. But Billy was grinning like a six year old.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Was Billy bouncing on his feet?

When Billy immediately started signing off their texts with hearts and kisses, Steve thought it was.

It is pretty much my two year fandom anniversary give or take a few days and this fic is for @shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @thatgirlwithasquid @oopsiedaisiesbaby @robthegoodfellow @bigdumbbambieyes @thissortofsorcery and @harringroveobsessed for putting up with the incessant messaging and asks and random brainworms I get at like 5AM

[lostgirl677]

Hidden treasure

One-shot

Masterlist

AU imagine where the outbreak never happened.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Established relationship

FLUFF

Summary: Y/N found something for Daryl in a thrift store. A real priceless treasure.

A/N: I still struggle to write Daryl accurately. Don't hesitate to leave some feedback.

I came back from the thrift store. There, I found a treasure worthy of all the haggling and near fights in the world. All because it was a gift for Daryl. Yeah, I almost threw punches to get that treasure. But if it was for him, I’d snatch it from the Devil’s hands if needed. I knew that the package wrapped in brown paper was the perfect gift.

When I arrived, Daryl was in the garage, working on his bike as usual. Watching him was always a delight: the way his arms flexed, his hands covered in grease, the occasional swear word escaping his lips. I could watch him all day. He suddenly turned his head towards me, catching me staring like a creep. ”Like what ya seein’, darlin’?”, he asked, his southern accent more pronounced with the day's fatigue. I couldn’t help but grin. “Hell yes.”  I chuckled as I got closer to him. He snorted and smiled. His smile lit up the room. It was good to see him ditching his signature frown for once. He wiped his greasy hands on an old rag and stood up, towering over me like a mountain of muscles and sweat."Good thing ya ma girl. Else I'd be scared of this sexy stranger drooling and undressin' me with her eyes in my garage" he said, smirking as he snaked his arm around my waist. “Good thing indeed. It would be creepy otherwise.” Then, he pulled me closer and I could smell his scent: pine, leather, sweat and smoke. “How was yer day? Thrift store, right?” he asked me. “Yeah. And I have something for you”, I replied. He raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “For me? Ya didn’t have to, honey”, he blushed a bit. I smiled again and said “Believe me, I had to. It’s in my car. I’ll be right back”. He reluctantly let me untangle myself from his embrace and I ran to my car with a bounce in my step.

I came back quickly, holding the package. “Here. I hope you’ll like it”. He took it in his hand, looking at me, a bit unsure. “Go on. It won’t bite you” I encouraged him softly.  He finally complied. As he unwrapped the package, I bit my lip in anticipation. Inside, he found a vintage leather jacket. “Well, ain’t that somethin’,” he murmured while his hand caressed the worn leather. Suddenly, his eyes widened and became shiny as if he could cry. It was a rare occurrence for a man like him. And I knew exactly why he was about to cry. His hand ran over the embroidered name William Dixon. He looked at me, shaking slightly. “H-how? Where?” he asked with a quiver in his voice, unable to find the right words. “I remember you told me that your grandfather died on D-Day in Normandy, and your grandmother was pregnant at that moment. And she had to sell some stuff to make ends meet. And somehow, it ended up in this thrift store. I found it hidden under a pile of old clothes in the stall. So, when I saw the name, I knew I had to get it for you. I think it wanted to return to its family" He looked like he was about to cry. I could see the tears welling up, and it took everything in him to hold them.

He was still looking at the jacket with reverence due to a relic. Which it was - a precious relic of his family. I gently took his hand to guide him back inside the house, in front of a mirror. “Try it. It looks like it’s your size”. I said softly. He slowly nodded, and I helped him put it on. Indeed, it fitted him like a glove. He looked dashing in it. “Daryl, you’re really handsome in this jacket. I’m sure your grandfather would be happy that his jacket is now yours. He would be proud of you”, I told him softly as I gently put my hand on his arm. He lowered his gaze to look at me in the mirror’s reflection and grunted softly. Even if he didn’t say anything back, I knew he was touched by my words. He just didn’t trust himself with words right now. When he tried to arrange the jacket on his body, something fell from the inside pocket—an old picture. I went to pick it up and showed it to Daryl. It was a slightly damaged black-and-white picture of a beautiful pregnant young woman. She was smiling, a hand on her swollen belly. “Grandma,” he whispered, his voice shattered a bit. “She was beautiful”, I whispered. He simply nodded, his hand running over the picture. “How about we buy a frame and place it somewhere nice?” I asked softly. His blue eyes twinkled, still wet from unshed tears and he said “Yeah. Sounds good.” Then he turned to face me. “I don’t know how to thank ya, Y/N”. I simply smiled. “You don’t have to. I just brought back home something that’s rightfully yours. I love you, Daryl. That’s all that counts for me.” He finally let his tears fall and said in a strangled voice “I love ya too, Y/N”. He then embraced me in his strong arms, his grandmother’s picture still clutched in his hands. I wiped his tears with my thumbs and arranged his hair gently. 

Later, I decided to place his grandma’s picture on the small desk in our room. And we hammered a coat hook next to it for the jacket. “Lookin’ good”, he simply told me while placing a kiss on my forehead. “Yeah. Now, your grandma and your grandpa are no longer apart”. He simply smiled. And his smile was worth a thousand words.

[wolfsbanesparks]

Oh it's midnight and this is going to sound so dumb

But I must

Billy: Hey, if Tim is short for Timothy,

Tim: Yeah.

Billy: And Bart is short for Bartholomew...

Bart: Exactly! Where are you going with this because it sounds like you're onto something :D

Billy, with the complete wisdom of Solomon (he pronounces it Solo-Man) on his side: ...Then is Wally short for Waluigi?

Bart and Tim, wheezing and trying not to make the baby feel dumb: ...it sure does, pal!

This is so adorable!

This is clearly a kid who has forgotten that Billy is short for William and thus will not respond to full name scolding.

I'm picturing 10 year old Billy with the biggest most excited grin ever on his face as he asks this. Tim and Bart are just excited for the chaos that will ensue when Billy one day full names Wally by screaming "WALUIGI WEST" at the top of his lungs. (Wally is of course not there to defend himself or prevent this and will not know about this conversation until its too late).

[whore-era]

little orange bottle

☁︎ modern!ellie williams x fem!reader, fluff/comfort ☁︎ themes/TW: depression/depressive episode, prescription medication use, mental health, crying, appetite issues, etc, established relationship, girlfriend!ellie, use of fem nicknames ☁︎ summary: in which your girlfriend always reminds you to take your meds and supports you through your mental health journey. ☁︎ a/n: this is a little bit self insertion bc i may or may not have been late on taking meds (take your MEDS!!) n this is a comfort fic for us babies who do take meds for mental health purposes or whatever reason. experiences described in this fic is solely based on mine :) ☁︎ word count: 1,809 - not proofread

"make sure you take them, as directed, and on time. sound good?"

you nod, biting your lip, rotating the small, orange bottle in your hand. god, who could even pronounce a name like that? the name of the medication sounded so....chemical.

"that's also a 30 day supply, alright? when you run out, make sure you contact me or the pharmacy, and we can get you a fresh batch," the doctor spoke. but you could barely respond, overwhelmed with emotion. you couldn't help the tears watering in your eyes.

"hey. depression is a manageable condition. you will be able to live life, as long as you know how to manage it in a way that works for you," the doctor puts her hands on top of yours, "sometimes its medication, sometimes its self care, sometimes its journaling or going for walks.."

you sniffle and wipe your eyes with your sleeve, "thank you, means a lot."

"of course. you can do this. i believe in you." i can do this.

as you make the walk from the doctors office to ellie's car, a bundle of nerves bubbled in your stomach. you weren't sure how this new medication would affect you and ellie's relationship. surely, there was nothing to worry about, as ellie had been extremely supportive of you during this turbulent time. she was the one who suggested to get help in the first place, an idea you'd forever be grateful for.

"please, ellie, i just want to be alone," you murmur.

she just came home from work and was shocked to see you still in bed, with the curtains drawn and all the lights closed, laying in the dark.

"baby...what's been goin' on?" ellie whispers softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers slowly stroking the bare skin on your shoulder.

"jus' don't feel like doing anything anymore, called out of work for this week," you mutter, burying your head back in the deep fluff of the pillow.

ellie's brows drew together in worry. she was starting to feel concerned for you. at first, she thought it was just sadness that you were feeling as you sulked around the house in your pajamas with your messy bun, shoveling your favorite ice cream in your mouth.

but as the weeks progressed, ellie would soon observe that what you were going through was much more than simply 'feeling sad'.

when you would come home from work, you would just lock yourself in your shared bedroom, reeling in sleep instead. when you were off, you wouldn't want to do anything but stay cooped up under the covers of your blanket — as if you lost interest in all the hobbies that gave you joy. ellie noticed that you barely ate or drank water, only coming out of the bedroom to use the toilet. it wasn't until she noticed that you weren't even changing your clothes or showering, than she comprehended the gravity of the situation.

"come here, sweet girl. tell me what's been on your mind," ellie laid on the mattress, pressing her body against yours and wrapping her arm tightly around your waist.

"i don't know what's been going on with me, els," you mumble, a slight crack in your voice, "i jus' have no motivation to do anything. i don't look forward to doing anything— i'm just tired all the time and—” tears begin to fall down your cheeks, "i don't know what to do anymore."

it pained ellie to see you like this — hopeless. she knew she had to do something, to be there for you.

ellie kissed the skin behind your neck, blinking away her own tears, "alright, baby, i hear you," she whispered against your hair, "i think you need to get some help, professional help. you have to talk to someone."

"i think so too, els."

ellie lifted herself off the mattress with her elbows, hovering over your body, "we'll worry about that in the morning. tonight, we'll take a nice, warm shower, get some hot food in your belly, and watch a funny movie. sound nice, pretty girl?"

after thinking for awhile, you nod, and ellie plants a soft kiss upon your lips, and helps you get up to the bathroom.

she peeled off your clothes, and you both got in the hot, steamy shower. ellie was careful and steady in handling you. she massaged your scalp with your favorite shampoo, lathering it in suds, and making sure to moisturize the ends of your hair with a hair mask after rinsing off all the shampoo (a step she knew you would've cussed at her for if she forgot). her hands squeezed body wash onto the shower cloth, gently massaging the frothy fabric all over your skin, covering it in a layer of fragrant, bubbles.

after cleaning both of you up, ellie helped you dress in some comfy clothes (her clothes), and cooked one of your favorite meals, filling up your belly with some much needed delicious comfort and turning on a funny film as you both dug in.

opening the passenger seat door of her car, you plopped in the seat.

"how was it?"

"was okay. cried in front of the doctor, but besides that, she was really nice about it," your hands opened the paper bag, taking out the little orange bottle, "she prescribed me this.

ellie took the bottle from your hands, giving it a gentle shake, and reading the label, "holy shit, sounds like a fuckin' harry potter spell or something."

you shrug, "doctor says i have to take it everyday, same time."

"good thing you have a very loving and annoying girlfriend to help with that."

-

you were sitting on the couch, cuddled up against ellie, watching reruns of your favorite show and snacking on your favorite chips. her phone began going off, playing that annoying default 'radar' alarm. she took her phone from her pocket, and smiled.

"time to take your meds, baby!" she enthused, showing you her phone, the screen reading 'medication time 😎'.

you groaned, not wanting to move from your comfortable position, "uuugggghhh, ellie, i'm comfy right here. i don' wanna get up."

"then i'll go," ellie says, standing up, leaving you to plant face first on the cushions of the sofa.

what a sweet girlfriend you had.

-

ellie had been wanting to try this new brunch place that just opened, and just by the luck of the draw, you had secured a reservation for sunday morning.

perusing through the menu, you settled on the idea of having the strawberries and cream french toast with eggs and sausage. your mouth was already watering at the thought of the sustenance hitting your taste buds.

"what are you getting?" you prod, looking up at your girlfriend.

she appeared to be deep in thought, like she was contemplating a life-altering decision, "i have no idea. i'm stuck between the nashville hot chicken and waffles or the kitchen sink omelette. fuck, didn't think this was gonna be so hard."

you giggled, "if your appetite allows it, maybe get both?"

as ellie was about to respond, that dang alarm went off again. she opened her phone and showed you her screen, 'medication time 😎'.

you rolled your eyes, and unzipped your bag, rummaging through its contents. biting your lip, the realization settled into you.

"i didn't bring it with me, i think i forgot it, els," you mention, worry in your tone, "ugh, i'm so dumb. i think i left it on the kitchen counter? i dunno— maybe if i leave right now i can—"

"babe." ellie snaps you out of your thoughts, taking out the little orange bottle and placing it on the table.

your heart swelled in your chest. she remembered to bring it?

"you...brought it?" you questioned.

"of course, had to make sure you took it. gotta take care of my girl."

-

the side effects of the medication took you by surprise — especially heightened emotions.

all it took was watching one tiktok video of a very fluffy australian sheperd celebrating her 12th birthday, and you were a goner.

"ellie! she's an old lady!!" you babbled like a baby, and all ellie could do was hold you and stroke the spine of your back as you cried into her sweatshirt.

"yeah, baby, i know, i know," she cooed in your ear, rocking you back and forth.

"she's all gray and old— and, and— she moves so slow, ellie. w-why—" you used a tissue to blow your nose, "—w-why do d-dogs have to get o-old?"

"because, sweet girl, they age like humans too," ellie grabs your face and kisses your wet cheeks, "but hey, think of it like this, she spent her very long, long life being loved by her family. love is all shes ever known."

you look up at her with big glossy eyes, calming down from your little breakdown, "y-yeah, i guess you're right."

"besides, she's still alive, baby. don't worry. she's not gone, yet." oops, ellie shouldn't have said that, knowing too well you were a ticking time bomb.

you exploded into a ball of tears, sobbing louder than ever before, "ELLIE!!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!!"

ellie scrambled around, trying to calm your nerves, and also hoping that mrs. chu, the little old lady in the apartment next door, couldn't hear you through the thin walls.

-

after a difficult day at work, you unlocked the door to your apartment.

luckily it was friday, and you were off for the weekend.

the doctor said on days like these, self care is important.

you treated yourself to a lovely bubble bath with a glass of wine, and then you ordered take-out from you and ellie's favorite mom and pop shop.

as you waited for ellie to come home, you opened your journal and wrote down some affirmations.

i am confident.

i am strong.

i am beautiful.

i am loved.

i am protected.

i love myself unconditionally.

"hey, pretty thing, what'cha doin'?" ellie greets you with a kiss on your cheek, plopping down on the sofa next to you.

"just had a hard day at work today— needed to remind myself of some things," you say, closing your journal and placing it down on the coffee table.

"yeah? any way i can help, babe?"

you shake your head, "nope, just you being here is enough for me," you chide as you lean over to press your lips against hers.

"i can definitely do that," ellie says, smiling as she pulls away, "just remember, healing is never linear, okay? there will be easy days and some will be harder than others. as long as you take care of yourself and surround yourself with support, it'll be okay. and if everything isn't okay, that's fine too. just as long as you move forward."

if u deal w a mental health condition or something of the sort, remember ur not alone and help is always there when u need it! u are very loved and appreciated <3 and if u take meds, remember to take them!! ily bestie

xoxo frankie <3

[missamyrisa2]

15 questions for 15 friends:

Thanks for thinking of me for these questions, @lady-featherquill ~ this is like mmmmh a certain kind of tingle blushhh tickle for me to be called on~

Were you named after anyone?: Yess I was named after Burl Ives, but you wouldn't know it because I spell and pronounce my name differently~

When was the last time you cried?: I made the mistake of thinking about The Lion King a few hours ago~

Do you have kids?: I make kids all the time. Like crying over the lion king because I randomly was thinking about how real to life the animation was of Simba pulling on Mufasa's ear and holygodddddd he was trying to wake his dad up whyyyyyyy are animators so supremely great at heartsqueezing~~~ I'm just kidding. That was a kid.

What sports do you play/have you played?: all of them I think~ I live by the fake it until you make it mindset and I'm still figuring out the latter part of that. But I did study pickleball thoroughly under its venerable founder, The Earl of Pickle

Do you use sarcasm?: William Shakesman said that's the lowest form of brevity so I try to avoid it whenever possible, also I'm horrendously bad at it to where I sound completely sincere and this has resulted in one too many punches to the face because, surprisingly if you poorly sarcastically announce you'd really love to be just hit in the face there are a LOT of people who are all too eager to jump in~

What is the first thing you notice about people?: That they're always trying to figure out if I hate them because I had a fairly consistent RBF crossed with an inclination to be mysterious. Through online interactions I first take note of their comma frequency because that says so much about a person's Oxford-related preferences.

What's your eye color?: Blue or green or grey depending which type of light you shove in my face, followed by whatever my eyelid is because moonlight makes me squint

Scary movies or happy endings?: I like the ones where nothing is really resolved and the story just sort of stops because everyone gave up and it was probably lunchtime so f*ck it~

Any talents?: I can do a hair flip like nobody's business, which is to say no one should ever be in the business of doing such hair flips because I've knocked over more cups and hit my head on more things than anyone should do in five lifetimes.

Where were you born?: I'm fairly certain I've always been, because whenever I attempt to find the record of my birth Mr. Tumnus plays an enchanting tune and I wake up in a cold room.

What are your hobbies?: arguing on the Internet and street corners why Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is better than Brotherhood. I took up the hobby after some guy stole my bicycle which was an outrage, but that was his hobby and he imparted the wisdom which set me on my path which is that a hobby is something that makes you completely miserable and spreads that misery onto anyone unfortunate enough to share your space.

Do you have any pets?: No, no one ever wants to pet me and it's probably because of the below answer

How tall are you?: 6'2

Favorite subject in school?: History. Not so much for the subject matter but because memorizing facts comes obscenely easy to me and I loved writing excessively lengthy essays which went nowhere and were loaded with as many funny words as I could muster like trying to relate an unrelated event to the future of filibustering.

Dream job?: Tending a lighthouse so I could make giant shadowpuppets over the water and make alligator mouths eat the ships.

Join in and pass it on if you can. Don't feel obligated!

@witchy-giggles @atomiccollectorwitch @crystalstarlight4657 @opossumgirltongue @adventuresofmelody @greenticklerdreams @juviisworld @dusktexanler @polsj103 @fuzzypilled @androgynousangeldreamland @daisylovestickles @yourgothgfswitch @magicaltickles @giggliestgirl

[the-authoress-writes]

Safe and Sound

Or: It’s the Great Karmic Bitchslap, Jake Seresin!

Prologue

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin OC

Safe and Sound Masterlist

Synopsis: After leaving her violent and abusive husband, Anastasia Seresin has known nothing but fear for months.

Always looking over her shoulder, wondering if he’s found her and their son, Luke, again.

With nowhere left to go, she turns to her younger twin brother, Jake, hoping that finally, she’ll have fled far enough.

But when she meets Bradley Bradshaw, her world is turned upside down, and she’s left wondering…

Will she have the courage to love again, and to let herself be loved?

Series Warnings: Domestic violence and abuse, sexual abuse, PTSD, warnings will be updated as the series progresses.

This is a story dealing with very serious and sensitive topics.

Please be careful, and protect your own peace.

Chapter Warnings: Military inaccuracies 🤣

Author’s Note: This story is one that is special to me; this was one of the first Top Gun stories I came up with, soon after I watched TG:M.

I’ve been keeping this to myself, because this is going to be intense and hard, but I know that if I don’t put this out there, I’ll never finish it.

So here we go.

Title is from the Taylor Swift/Joy Williams & John Paul White song of the same name.

Not breaking my habit of naming my stories after songs, it seems!

Jake groaned as he blindly groped around his bedside table for his phone which was ringing its alarm.

He felt like he’d just fallen asleep—he’d only drank his limit at The Hard Deck, the night before, but it felt like he’d only gotten an hour of sleep.

Phone in hand, he squinted at the screen, his sleep-addled mind not quite comprehending what he was seeing.

It actually was about an hour since he fell asleep, and his phone was ringing not because of his 5:45 AM alarm, but because of a call from base gate security.

“Lieutenant Seresin speaking,” he rasped, pressing the phone to his ear.

“I’m very sorry to wake you, Lieutenant, but I have a kid and woman here at the gate asking me to let them in, she says they need to get to your house,” the guard replied.

Jake frowned. “Who are they?

Did you get their names?”

“The young man has no ID on him, but the woman’s driver’s license says Anastasia Malloy.”

Jake instantly shot up in bed, even though the action left him a little dizzy. “Let them in—that’s my sister and nephew.”

A minute or two later, he was standing outside his base housing, waiting.

Soon, the gate security car drove up with an ancient sedan in its wake.

The sedan parked, and the driver stepped out.

He knew it had to be his sister, but nothing in the way the woman who was walking towards him reminded him of the strong, capable spitfire he knew.

She stopped about five feet away from him before she looked up, tear tracks making shining trails down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, voice broken, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Oh, Stacia,” Jake immediately opened his arms to his older twin sister.

To be continued…

Next Part

I know this section is so short, but the first chapter will be published tomorrow, I am just editing it today.

I’m very excited.

My subtitle for this story was the working title this story was under until I came up with “Safe and Sound” as the actual title.

It’s derived from the classic Peanuts television special, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”.

I thought about not putting it, but giving Jake the biggest karmic bitchslap was the entire reason I came up with the plot, so I’m putting it.

Stacia (pronounced StAH-shuh) is the Polish nickname for Anastasia, which I use here because I headcanon that Jake has Polish ancestry, like his actor, Glen Powell’s supposed ancestry, so here, the Seresin twins have Polish ancestry and nicknames.

With more Polish details to come! 😂

Let’s just ignore the military inaccuracies, shall we?

*In Edna Mode voice* It’s for the ahhhhht, dahhling.

Taglist

@ohtobemare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

@httyd-marauders

@penguin876

@jbetches

@squidy-things350

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Anderson Bonner

Prominent Texas landowner and businessman Anderson Bonner was born enslaved in Alabama around 1839. Not much is known about his younger years. Family history states that Bonner was given as a wedding present to the daughter of his former master, who moved him from Alabama to Arkansas. Anderson may have been “refugeed” in Texas during the Civil War when nearly 100,000 enslaved people from neighboring states were forcibly brought there by slaveholders to avoid the Union Army freeing them as it gradually occupied more of the Confederacy. If Bonner was in Texas by 1865, he—like other Lone Star state enslaved people—gained his freedom when Union General Gordon Granger and Union Troops under his command arrived in Galveston on June 19, 1865 and pronounced the end of slavery. That announcement became the basis for the Juneteenth holiday.

Sometime in 1865 Bonner married a woman known only as Eliza. Over time the couple had ten children, Anderson Jr, Newton, William, Ed, John, Andy, Mary, Martha, Charlie and Nash. Bonner arrived in Dallas, Texas, around 1870 with his brother Louis, and sister Caroline and they worked on a farm in the White Rock Creek area. Bonner by this time had acquired modest wealth. The 1870 Census lists his financial worth at $275 or approximately $5,456 in 2020 dollars. On August 10, 1874 Bonner purchased sixty acres of land, signing the deed with an “X”, as he never learned to read or write. He soon began leasing his land and the houses on it to cotton growing sharecroppers. With the money he earned, he bought more land. Bonner eventually amassed over two thousand acres of land in what is now North Dallas and the Dallas suburb of Richardson. The Medical City Dallas Hospital now sits on what was once the Bonner farm and the North Central Expressway divides Bonner’s original property.

Census records in 1900 reveal that six of the ten Bonner children still lived on the Bonner farm. Cotton, corn, and fruits were grown on the family farm worked mostly by Bonner, his children, and sharecroppers. Bonner’s sister, Caroline married into the Fields family, and one of her children married into the Giddings family, both prominent African American families of Dallas in the late 19th Century. In 1903, Eliza was killed in a oil lamp explosion in the family home. Sixty-four-year-old Bonner then married a woman named Lucinda, but the couple had no children.

Anderson Bonner passed away at the age of 82 in 1920. He was buried in White Rock Colored Union Cemetery (now White Rock Garden of Memories Cemetery), in Addison county. His descendants established the Anderson Bonner Endowment Scholarship that helps support Richardson Public School students who attend Prairie View A&M University. The first public school for black children in the North Dallas, the Vickery and Hillcrest school was renamed the Anderson Bonner School before its closing in 1955. The city of Dallas officially named the park west of Medical City Hospital, Anderson Bonner Park in 1976. The park consists of 44.1 acres of Bonner’s original land.

[factual-fantasy]

27 asksssss (sorry they’re a lil late! <:D)

I too was bummed by how unimportant Vanessa was in Security Breach, and how William took the spotlight from her and was the “true villain” all along.

But even so, I still didn’t need to see that rant in my ask box. And the “ITS THE WHITE WOMAN” comment gave me all the bad vibes.

Just, in the future, let artists do what they’re gonna do with Vanessa. Good or bad, change or not, its just fictional character.

@yugopossum

Mmm.. the only one I can remember is that I headcannon Peso to be a Royal Penguin that just trimmed his yellow head feathers really short.

@missmeowstin

Thank you! :DD

(Post in question)

He already got a hug though! XD

Nope, sorry!

Go for it! :DDD

I always say it as “bee bee”, although I don’t know if that’s how you pronounce the actual name. That’s just how I say it-

@magpiraven

Some of the games have been cut from my canon, and the ones that I kept have been drastically altered in some way to better fit my timeline. So yesssnn’t.? 

(Post in question)

I have not, but I’ve been meaning to get around to watching it for a while..

@lucielelise1exi

Am very eepy today <XD thank you for asking though! I hope you’re doing well :}

@mushroommushy

Ugh, always annoying. Thank you for letting me know though!

CAPTAIN BARNACLES FTWWWWW

@hexyz09

I hate everything about this child because of her name. Cassie. That’s likely short for Cassidy. You know. One of the Golden Freddy spirits? WHY, Steel Wool. WHY did you have to complicate the lore EVEN FURTHER-

Ah, I didn’t take any inspiration from the old Jungle book movie.. but I’m glad you like my artwork! :DD

@dr-0-shadow

Actually, I didn’t base him off of old man consequences.. but I totally should have, that would have been a cool little Easter egg! <:(

fank u :}}}

@cinnamonrollorder

THANK YOIU SO MUCH AAAAA THATS SO NICE WAAAAAAA

@the-cactus-taco​

Its easy peasy. All you gotta do is open Tumblr on desktop, and start a text post by clicking this icon at the top of your page. 

Then click on this icon.👇

It will open up your file explorer and you can upload as many images as you want! A recent post of mine has 43 images through this. So far I haven’t found the limit!

@kingshevil

I am veeeery eepy today lol,

Also sorry, I don’t take drawing requests! This include dare comics and stuff.. Sorry!

@amelia2001​

I am sleeeepy, and thank you so much!

@void-the-bear​

Honestly, the bar is pretty low for me. I don’t have a lot of hope for this dlc..

But, my only hope, is that Glamrock Freddy makes it to the end of the game. He’s rilly cool and he’s my favorite chawacter so I hope he makes it.

Thank you! I’m glad you like the route I’ve taken with him!

And to be honest, the instantaneous hate that Monty got when the game came out was really annoying. If anyone dared to say that they liked Monty, they would likely be met with Bonnie lovers that just crap all over them. “MONTY KILLED BONNIE WHY DO YOU LIKE HIM!!??!!?” Even though its not 100% proved in canon that Monty actually killed him.

I mean hey, maybe its true. It probably is. But I was just like screw you guys, I think Monty is neat and I wanna give him some justice. So I made him a totally innocent character that is just a victim of circumstance. I think its pretty refreshing. :0

@quillsinkwell​

(Also that sounds cool! I say go for it! :D)

@lobitowhiteeliaz​

Hello! And honestly I’ve been drawing for so long, I’m not sure what inspired me at the start.. maybe it was Sonic.?

[starrixle]

i have a thing where i like to give bursonas their own names based on their personalities

simpbur: spencer (sounds similar to simpbur, also jokingly references the spencer's store)

revbur: revere (literally pronounced like paul revere and starts with rev, also sorta has an association with war bc of the american revolution)

ghostbur: bloo (blue + boo)

zombur: winston godwinson (ik his og name is william but i like how winston fits more)

dr malpractice: dr william malpractice (he uses a fake name a disguise since i hc him to be a con artist) / wilson mallison (real name, both start with wil + mal)

studentbur: jacob (religious name)

dark wolf: darryl (starts with dar, like dark)

ill still refer to them all as wilbur or ___bur, but i like having other names for them bc its silly (i plan to give the other bursonas i missed names sometime whenever i get around to it)

[vintagelasvegas]

Henderson, July 1950

Boulder Hwy intersects with E Lake Mead Blvd. The World War II company town was built around Basic Magnesium Industries plant, left. Carver Park, built for black workers, northeast of the intersection. Victory Village, built for white workers, east of the intersection. Henderson Townsite, south.

Carver Park was designed by black architect Paul Revere Williams. The pronounced segregation was the first of its kind in the region. Despite the separation of housing children attended the same school.

Henderson's transition from a temporary industrial town to permanent community was guaranteed in the late 40s when Senator C.D. Baker introduced legislation that allowed workers to purchase their housing outright instead of renting it from the company. Portions of the company's campus was leased or sold to other businesses. Three years later, Basic Management Inc., a private company organized by the state to manage the plant, purchased the plant outright from the state, privatizing the remainder of the operation.

Henderson was incorporated as a city on 4/16/53, absorbing Carver Park, Victory Village and Pittman.

Photo: USGS. M. Areniuk. Henderson: From campsite to bustling suburb. Las Vegas Sun, 8/26/2008.

[tamblr]

Intro to Tantric Shaivism

Shiva as a god is someone who has been deeply influential in my personal spiritual journey. From watching both Lord Ram and Ravana pray to him to seeing the relationship between Shiva and Shakthi, I was always intuitively fascinated by him and that led naturally to intellectual curiosity. In the previous write up I had summarised the meaning of Tantra, this is a small introduction to Shaivism. 

Shaivism is the worship of Lord Shiva as the supreme being. It is an ancient Hindu sect that is an amalgamation of pre Vedic and Vedic traditions. As such, some scholars have dated the sect to the Indus Valley civilisation at 2500-2000 BCE. 

Shaivism has many schools of thought, two of the most popular ones being: Saiva siddhanta and Kashmiri Shaivism from which we will draw most of the metaphysics, philosophy and cosmology from but first…

Who or what is Shiva? 

The answer to this question itself could be a series all on its own but here’s two etymologies from two of the most ancient languages: Tamil and Sanskrit.

I was reading this incredible novel called Kottravai where the author describes the etymology of the word, Sivam, this is my very rough translation of the tamil text, “from the word meaning, life (Siivam), the people named their lord sivam”. From sivam comes siivan, more predominantly pronounced as jiivan meaning soul or living being. 

Indeed, one of the most ancient names of the lord is pasu-pati, lord (pati) of animals (pasu). In Saiva Siddhanta, pasu is has a further meaning of soul so the lord of souls. 

According to Monier-Williams, the Sanskrit word "Shiva" means "auspicious, propitious, gracious, benign, kind, benevolent, friendly". The root words of shiva in folk etymology are śī which means "in whom all things lie, pervasiveness" and va which means "embodiment of grace”.

While the Tamil etymology talks about who he is, the Sanskrit one gives a description of his characteristics. 

But what is he? 

He is sat-cit-ananda (being-consciousness-bliss). Or more succinctly, the universal consciousness. Kashmiri Shaivism talks about the universal consciousness as having two characteristics: prakasa (light) and vimarsa (reflective awareness) and talks about the universal consciousness as being the efficient cause whose effect is the vibration of consciousness (spanda). Here it should be noted that cause and effect are reciprocal processes where cause leads to effect and effect back to cause.

While we talk about Shiva as masculine, it is important to note that Shiva and Shakthi are a dual principle, like two sides of the same coin where Shakthi is the instrumental cause whose effect is pure energy (kundalini Shakthi). Symbolised in Ardhanadishwara.

Similarly, while Shaivism and vaishnavism are at odds with each other in many aspects, the old name for Visnu in the Tamil was Mayon, the personification of Maya (material reality, illusion) and Shaivite traditions agree that Maya is another aspect of Shakthi. The duality of Shiva and Vishnu is symbolised in Hari-Hara.

Proof of existence 

Saiva siddhanta, a school popular in South India is a philosophical school that is based on theistic realism and therefore offers a rational argument for why the universal consciousness should exist. The proof first begins with 3 laws:

All existing things have arisen and must at some time be destroyed. 

Law I, to the thesis that the world in its entirety must have been created at one point of time, and, again at one point of time, will in its entirety be destroyed; the world has a beginning and an end. 

Everything that gets destroyed must arise again; something that exists cannot become a nothing. 

Law 2, that the world's history will not end with its destruction, but that after a certain time it will be created anew out of itself; a new world-creation will follow a world- destruction. 

Whatever arises must have existed before; a nothing can't turn into an existent something

Law 3, that an eternal living something must form the basis of this world, out of which it was created, and into which it will at some time be resolved, and from which it will at another time again be created.

But why Shiva?

Why is Shiva the personification of the universal consciousness? The answer given is quite simple. 

There is a popular Tamil saying: ‘Anbe Sivam’ which means ‘love is Shiva’ or ‘shiva is love’. To quote from Saiva siddhanta: “You must worship what engages your love, you disciples of advaita.” Advaita means non-duality of subject and object and talks about the relationship between the individual soul and the divine. So from their perspective, anything that fuels your love is your personification of the divine and for Shaivites due to the history, culture and religion, Shiva is who engages their love and hence their devotion.

This is where the idea of Tantra comes into play. ‘The exploration of the inner cosmos is Tantra that helps one discover the inner architecture of one’s self and its relationship with the outer world.’ Tantric Shaivism is essentially the exploration and recognition of the soul and its relationship to Shiva, the personification of the universal consciousness.

Why use a personification?

the soul has three faculties: knowledge, will, action 

it needs something to lean on, which it then imitates and assimilates

its faculties need to be set in motion by some impulse from outside.

When you love something, you desire to understand it, be with it and you immerse your thoughts in it. In other words, you develop devotion. This is what you lean on. The qualities of the personification of the universal consciousness as being auspicious, benevolent, full of grace enable the soul to be able to imitate it and assimilate with it. This love is fuelled by culture, mythology and other personal experiences unique to each individual so theology helps set in motion the faculties of the soul. 

Knowledge - Knowledge can roughly be of two types: intellectual knowledge and instinctual knowledge. Instinctual knowledge is brought about by faith and the faith is strengthened through intellectual knowledge gathered from reading scripture, philosophy etc. Sometimes instinct can give rise to intellectual curiosity and other times intellectual exploration can give rise to a deity that is instinctually recognised by the soul. 

Will - the will is simply the ability of a person to concentrate completely on the divine and is fuelled by devotion and resilience of one’s faith and this initiates action.

Action - action is the performance of inner (meditation, chanting mantras) and outer (puja, yoga) rituals acting as a symbolic union from which the actual union with the divine occurs

One of my main resources was the book Saiva Siddhanta: An Indian School of mystical thought in addition to other resources which I would be happy to link if anyone is curious.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Normally, my meta is pretty focused on what happens in the story, and I bring things from reality to use when it’s useful. But I like pulling stories apart to talk about how the story works, and stories only exist with a thin tether to reality most of the time, and they have wildly different rules.

This one is a little different. This one is going to have a lot of outside information brought to bear to discuss Sherliam’s relationship, but they’re things I think are relevant: A Japanese word and its origins, how creating art and stories works, what being an artist is…and how that all impacts William and Sherlock, how they relate to each other as creations of artists and artists themselves.

Basically, stuff about how art is made and the context it lives in. I think that's more useful than comparing it to reality. It’ll be interesting, I promise! Just a little different than usual.

Let’s start here. I think you’ll see where I’m going with the Sherliam thing pretty quickly, but if not, don’t worry. I’m going to explain.

I saw this post on Bluesky during aro week, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot since.

Basically, there’s a word in Chinese, that has actually carried over to Japanese (I’ll get to that in a minute) that means, basically, “person who truly understands your songs.” It’s based off this story of this musician would make instrumental music, as one does, and this person who understood immediately, without being told, what the song was about. And this relationship was so deeply important and meaningful that after the second person died, the first destroyed his instrument, because there seemed to be no point in continuing to create music without the person who got it.

Yes, I know, you’re all seeing the Sherliam parallels already, but give me a bit longer before we get there.

This word carried over to Japanese with a slightly different pronunciation (as happens), but the same kanji and the same meaning. My Japanese-English dictionary defines it solely as “an exceptionally close friend.” No other options are provided. So I looked it up in some Japanese dictionaries! They both started with the same origin story of the word, and then both came up with a handful of definitions: Dear friend, person who understands your heart, partner, comrade, eventually it got down to sweetheart, someone you can rely on. My favorite was “Peerless/unmatched friend.”

The word does seem to be fairly formal and archaic and mostly relegated to Literature™ and classic works. It’s not a word that’s canonically ever applied to Sherlock or William.

And yet. And yet.

I don’t know how common the word is in Japanese that they’d recognize or know it. Whether or not it actually influenced the story from background knowledge, intentionally or not. But knowing the concept now, and knowing the concept has existed in Japanese culture as…as an option does change how I think of some of the media I’ve seen before. The word notwithstanding, the concept exists.

As an artist myself, I deeply understand the need/desire/hope/longing/etc. for a person who just. Gets what you’re trying to do. The person who deeply understands what you’re doing and your intentions and the way you expressed yourself. Who understands you via your creations.

I am, as many of you know, looking for a new critique partner right now. I have one, but I need one or two others for Reasons. And one of them already turned up a dud because this person’s feedback had nothing to do with what I want the story to be or what I’m trying to write. It’s a lot of marketing advice. Advice on how to make the story more what they would want, or more like other books.

A good CP needs to see what the intention of the story is, so they can make that story stronger and help that story make that point to more people. They have to understand your art. Not to the degree of a 知音, but nonetheless.

Sherlock and William are, obviously, on the level of understanding each other this way. They just get each other, without explanation, and they both treasure that relationship dearly. So dearly that Sherlock, when faced with the prospect of losing the person who truly got him, would have rather died with him then survive without that connection.

Because what was the point of doing things, of making things, of being, without that person who got it. How to bear living once you’ve finally found that person?

And I think this kind of gets to what Louis was seeing in Sherlock and hoping he would do to validate William’s existence. Sherlock got William. He saw his intentions through his plans, and saw who he was and what his soul was even under all the masks and walls and machinations. He understood why William would want to die, and that he was actually trying to die intentionally almost immediately.

And because Sherlock actually understood William’s existence, he could actually validate William’s existence. The same way someone has to understand what my book’s story is trying to be to actually help it. The same way someone actually understanding what the fuck I was trying to write makes me feel…well, like writing and sharing it with people is actually worth it, because I can do this.

And, because Sherlock understood William’s intentions and plans, he made changes to the story William planned, because he saw the weaknesses from a distance, saw the intentions without drowning himself in what was already there the way William the Author did. Because he saw the intentions, but also the actual effects.

And William’s plan came out stronger and more effective and more beautiful for it all. Because Sherlock was there to see it, to understand it, and to help.

After all, Sherlock is an artist, too, even if we only see him with his violin on occasion. He knows what it’s like. And he knows William helped give him a stage to show off what Sherlock wanted to share with the world, too (forensics, etc.).

And I think it’s interesting, after all that, to remember that Yuukoku no Moriarty is created by not one artist, but two. Did they understand each other’s intentions the way William and Sherlock understand each other? Almost certainly not, especially given that we lost one of them from the series. But they had to work together, to understand each other’s intentions and art, in order to work together and create the story. To fill in where the other fell short, to give feedback and strengthen the story together.

We don’t know much at all about their working relationship or how the series came to be from the two of them. It’s really impossible to speculate if they felt in sync or they wished they were working with someone who Got Them better. But I think either way, Sherlock and William’s working together to create a story that was stronger, fuller, and better than either could have come up with alone is an interesting reflection of their story’s two creators anyway.