#no i am not from florida. or the south

[grandprix-ao3]

12 & 23?

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

haha. ha. i think you already know... :) my favorite driver on the grid by an embarrassingly long shot is logan sargeant. and i actually do have a track record of being pretty convincing in terms of logan but i do all of it by accident!! between hollywoodsargeant and miamis (coughs and my tiktok) i am making the logan content i wish to see in the world and in the process like. accidentally roping a bunch of other people into the mess. So

but i will attempt a purposeful convincing tactic by just yelling vaguely about what i like about him. uh... he's usamerican (i'm usamerican, red white and blue or something, idk) and he's cute and pretty well-spoken and he's funny!! is that clip from the GQ video of him poorly rapping lose yourself by eminem a valid reason why more people should like him? him liking horrible tiktoks about himself that make fun of how aggressively patriotic he is? (he is self aware!) consider literally any prema video he's in he's just. he's fucking stupid. this is a man who said full confidence he cannot live without the wolf of wall street. his own victory pose (courtesy of benny jacobs!). burger sauce. i love my men stupid and crooked-grinning and wearing big ugly sunglasses and walking with a funny little saunter and he checks all the boxes. what more could i (you? maybe?) want!

idk man the issue here is that i don't even really know why i started liking him so much but now he is my favorite ever no contest and i will go to great lengths to make that known and he's cute HE'S CUTE!!! he has a father-son type relationship with his trainer that makes me want to cry (my son calls him older brother. stop) and a stupid laugh and every time he talks about his friends i smile like an idiot like yeah! kyle kirkwood is your boy! you guys go way back! and you and oscar can't seem to get away from each other, you've known each other forever and every time you go your separate ways they always lead in to the same place. you cracked your ribs fucking around with your brother who you love very much and sometimes you can't shut up about your hometown but it's endearing so i'll let you get away with it and you're racing in your fucking backyard this is your homecoming i'm. yeah okay i'll stop. could theoretically go on forever i am. tremendously compelled by him. in love with him. formula 1 driver logan hunter sargeant. that's my boy!

also he has a really nice ass idk go look at any photo of him in his race suit it's honestly stupid how good he looks in it

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

every ship i have come around to has been against my will. since we're on a logan train: loscar? from unwilling to driving the whole entire bus i did the math earlier i'm responsible for like 14% of all fics in the loscar tag. Anyways. they're compelling did you see the childhood friends shit i rbed earlier... yeah. Yeah. that's my entire case for them: that

also clemarcus. i even remember when el oversteerey was actively posting six weeks and i wasn't reading it bc i didn't really. know much about either clem or marcus? but i'm subbed to their ao3 so it was in my inbox. then when it got finished i was like Fine and now i read that fic as like a routine. so good. they're also very compelling but less in the childhood friends way and more in the Oh My God Stop Touching Each Other You Gay Freaks way. both are vibes

choose violence ask game

[thebreakfastgenie]

You get it. Piano man is timeless and being someone who’s feeling alright because of him hits you in a place you cannot explain.

So true!! You just have to get it. You just have to feel it. The first time I saw him was in Chicago and on the El train on the way to the concert, just about everyone on the train was going to the same place, and we all spontaneously started singing Piano Man. But nothing compares to Piano Man at the Garden.

[nico-di-genova]

Strollonso college au discussions are back on!

[snapbackslide]

LMAOOOO no fr everyone kept saying "watch out for pickpockets !!!!!!!!!!" had me so nervous ...... not a single person approached me 💀

[stromer]

i blog from these TWO places exclusively

[gobbluthbutagirl]

i could live in tucson and i would literally be fine. you just have to make sure you stay hydrated. but 95+ degrees fahrenheit in the southeast is stepping outside and immediately drowning and smothering at the same time because god hates you and wants to kill you

[grimandghoulish]

.

[thethief1996]

Israel has cut water, electricity and food to Palestinians in Gaza. They are buying 10.000 M16 rifles and plan to distribute to civilian settlers in the West Bank to hunt down Palestinians. They're bombing the only way out of Gaza through Egypt, after telling refugees to flee through it, and have threatened the Egyptian government in case they let aid trucks pass through. Entire families, generations, are being wiped out and left to wander the streets hoping they don't get bombed.

Palestinians are using their last minutes of battery to let the world know about their genocide and are being met with a wall of "What about Hamas? What about the beheaded babies? Killing children on either side is bad!" even though the propaganda claims have been debunked over and over again. How cruel is it to ask somebody to condemn themselves before their last words? Or before grieving the loss of their entire families? When there's no such disclaimer to Israelis even though their government has shown over and over genocidal intent? Like who are you even trying to appease? What will your wishy washy statement do against decades of zionist thought infiltrating evangelical and Jewish stablishmemts?

Take action. Israel will fall back if public opinion turns its tide. The UK fell back on its bloody decision to cut aid to Palestine under public scrutiny. The USAmerican empire spends $3.8 billion dollars annually solely on this proxy war while its people suffer under a progressively military regime as well. News outlets are canceling last minute on Palestinian speakers while letting Israelis tell lies unchecked. Palestinian refugees are being targeted in ICE establishments and mosques are already being hounded by the FBI. France and Germany have banned pro-Palestine protests, while Netherlands and the UK have placed restrictions . You have the chance to stop this from turning into repeat of the Iraq war.

I want to do something but there's hardly anything for me to do from Brasil besides spreading the word and not letting these testimonies fall on deaf ears. I'm asking you to do this same ant work from wherever you are.

Follow:

Eye On Palestine (instagram / twitter)

Mohammed El-Kurd (instagram / twitter)

Decolonize Palestine (website with a chronological explanation of the occupation and debunking myths)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Plestia Alaqad (directly from Gaza. Many of her videos are interrupted by bombs)

If there's a protest in your city, please attend. Here's an international calendar of events:

Friday, October 13

ALBUQUERQUE, NM (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 3 pm, UNM Bookstore, University of New Mexico. Organized by Southwest Coalition for Palestine.

BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA (US) – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, Sproul Hall (Vigil), University of California Berkeley. Organized by Bears for Palestine.

DOUAIS, FRANCE – Fri Oct 13, 6:30 pm, Place de’Armes.

GOTHENBURG, SWEDEN – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Brunnsparken. Organized by Palestinska samordningsgruppen Gothenburg.

GREENSBORO, NC (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 4 pm, Wendover Village, 4203 W Wendover Ave, Greensboro, NC. Organized by Muslims for a Better NC.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Fri Oct 13, 5 pm, Keir Starmer’s Office, Crowndale Center, 218 Eversholt St, London. Organized by IJAN UK.

MEANJIN/BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, King George Square.

MIAMI, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Bayfront Park. Organized by Troika Kollectiv.

NAPOLI, ITALY – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Piazza Garibaldi, Napoli. Organized by GPI and Centro Culturale Handala Ali.

NGUNNAWAL/CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Carema Place.

PERTH/BOORLOO, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct. 13, 5:30 pm, Murray Street Hall, Boorloo/Perth. Organized by Friends of Palestine WA.

PORTLAND, OREGON (US) – Fri Oct 13, 3 pm, 1200-1220 SW 5th Ave, Portland.

PORT RICHEY, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 7:30 am, Route 19 and Ridge Road, Port Richey. Sponsored by: Florida Peace Action Network; Partners for Palestine; CADSI

PRETORIA, SOUTH AFRICA – Friday, Oct. 13, 7 pm, UP Main Campus, DSA Building opposite Thuto. Organized by PSC UP.

WITSWATERSRAND UNIVERSITY (SOUTH AFRICA) – Fri Oct 13, 1 pm, Great Hall Piazza, Flag demonstration. Organized by Wits PSC.

Saturday, October 14

ABERDEEN, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, St. Nichlas Square. Organized by Scottish PSC.

AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Aotea Square, Queens St, 291-2997 Queen St. Organized by PSN Aotearoa.

DETROIT/DEARBORN, MICHIGAN (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Ford Woods Park, 5700 Greenfield Road. Organized by SAFE, PYM, SJP, Handala Coalition, more.

DUNDEE, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, Place TBA. Organized by Scottish PSC.

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct 14, 2 pm, Princes Street at Foot of the Mound. Organized by Scottish PSC.

FRANKFURT, GERMANY – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm Hauptwache, Frankfurt am Main. Sponsored by Palestina eV, Migrantifa Rhein-Main and more.

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND – Sat. Oct 14, 2 pm, Buchanan Steps. Organized by Scottish PSC.

HOUSTON, TEXAS (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, City Hall, 901 Bagby St. Organizd by PYM, PAC, USPCN, SJP and more.

LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND – Sat Oc 14, 12 pm, Church St. Organized by FRFI.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Sat Oct 14, 12 pm, BBC Portland Place, London. Organized by a broad coalition.

MILANO, ITALY – Sat. Oct 14, 3:30 pm, Piazza San Babila. Organized by Young Palestinians of Italy, UDAP, Palestinian Community, Association of Palestinians.

ORLANDO, FLORIDA – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm, Lake Eola at Robinson and Eola, Orland. Organized by Florida Palestine Network.

TORINO, ITALY – Sat. Oct. 14, 3 pm, Piazza Crispi. Organized by Progetto Palestina.

VALPARAISO, CHILE – Sat Oct 14, 6 pm, Plaza Victoria, Valparaiso. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

WASHINGTON, DC (US) – Sat Oct 14, 1 pm, Lafayette Square. Organized by AMP.

Sunday, October 15

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, March from Dam Square to Jonas Daniel Meijer plein.

NAARM/MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, State Library Victoria.

TARDANYA/ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, Parliament House.

AUSTIN, TEXAS (US) – Sun Oct 15, 3 pm, Texas Capitol. Organized by PSC ATX.

GADIGAL/SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 1 pm, Sydney Town Hall.

SANTIAGO, CHILE -Sun Oct 15, 11 am, Plaza Dignidad, Santiago. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

[mothercain]

why do you not have much of a country accent? everyone i know from your region sounds like they're chewing on a rubber band (me too tho) im just curious

when i was growing up i sounded like everyone else but because we were homeschooled our whole life, my mom was a bit neurotic about us coming off as uneducated because of the way we spoke so she kind of drilled it out of us as we got older. i still have an accent when i go home but i'm very self conscious about my accent and am kind of stuck in permanent "customer service" voice with everyone who doesn't speak like me. i love my regional accent and i feel disconnected from my culture when i don't speak with it but then i'm also very embarrassed in a way to let it slip around people not from the south. it's kind of a strange push and pull to be caught in the middle of. it's definitely one of those deeply engrained things though, i always find myself speaking as "eloquently" as possible because i don't want people to think i'm unintelligent, which is something i don't love about myself. long live the north florida cracker accent.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Melt

"And if I die because you made me melt, oh well."

Summary: You and Frankie spend a hot summer day by the pool

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, semi-public shenanigans (we're assuming there's a big, tall fence around the pool lmao), Frankie being our 🐱 eating king, Frankie being the sweetest and so obsessed with you, poor Pope probably needs to clean his pool after these two leave, reader wears a bathing suit, can swim and can get sunburned

A/N: HEY HOMIES, IT'S YA GIRL!!!!! What better way to celebrate National Catfish Day than with a lil poolside Frankie 🤪 It has been hotter than Satan's ballsack out here in the midwest, so this song is dedicated to this ongoing heatwave and this song that I am absolutely obsessed with and is SO Frankie coded 😭 This is the first thing that I have worked on since May so apologies in advance for bein' a little rusty, but I'm excited to finally be back on the writing train again!!! ily all, big forehead kisses for each of you MWAH!!!! 🥹 poorly beta'd bc that's how i roll

Love it or hate it, if there was one thing that you could always count on, it was the fact that summers in south Florida were hot. 

Really fucking hot. 

So when Pope had offered up his pool for you and Frankie to use while he was out of town for the week, it was a no brainer that the two of you had ecstatically accepted his invitation. 

“We really owe Pope for this one, huh?” You smirked, setting down your beach bag on one of the lounge chairs spread across the pool deck, pulling out some sunscreen and towels for you and Frankie. 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Frankie sighed, nodding his head in agreement, admiring the crystal blue water sparkling in the heat of the hot summer sun, hands on his hips as he looked out over the pool. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you stood behind him, secretly whipping out your phone to take a picture of Frankie inspecting the pool before quickly texting it to Pope, knowing what a kick he’d get out of it. 

You: Thanks for letting us use the pool! New pool boy is taking his job very seriously. 🫡

Pope: Haha. Would have looked better if he showed up in a bikini. Have fun u 2. 

“What are you laughing at?” Frankie asked, turning around to the sounds of your sneaky snickers before feeling his own phone buzz in his pocket, looking down to see a text from Pope. 

Pope: Your wife thinks you’d make a good pool boy. Told her you need a bikini first. Have fun with Mrs. Fish today.

Pope: Not too much fun though. 🤨

Frankie: Sorry to disappoint. 

Frankie: What’s that supposed to mean? 

Pope: I just cleaned the pool before I left. Don’t need any baby fish swimming around in there if you know what I mean 🐟 💦 lol

Frankie: Jesus christ, Pope.

Frankie shook his head as he slipped his phone back into his pocket as he made his way over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. 

“You think I’d make a good pool boy, huh?” He smirked, planting a chaste kiss in your lips as the two of you laughed. 

“The best. But only if you give me another kiss and put some sunscreen on me so I don’t turn into a lobster.” You teased, kissing him right back before pulling away to grab the sunscreen bottle, passing it off to him. 

“Fair enough.” 

As he took the bottle from you, starting to shake it up, Frankie couldn’t help stop and watch in awe as you began to remove your coverup. Underneath, it revealed the little, strappy, bright yellow bikini you had just bought, deciding that today would be a good choice to show it off for the first time with just you and your husband together. 

“Fuck me…” Frankie whispered under his breath, his tongue darting out of his mouth and swiping over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down, admiring every sun-kissed inch of your soft skin and the way the fabric of your swimsuit hugged your curves. “Is this- fuck, is this new?” he asked softly, his sweet brown eyes just about popping out of his head, trying to use every ounce of self composure to even form a coherent question. 

“Do you like it? I got it a few days ago when I was out. Figured I could use a new one.” You blushed, biting down on your lip at Frankie’s reaction, wondering how in the world he still managed to make you feel as beautiful as he did the first night he’d met you after all your time spent together. 

“Can I show you?” Frankie asked, running his hands along your waist, gently toying with the strings holding your swimsuit bottoms together. 

“Show me what?” 

“Show you how much I like it?” He responded, his voice sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers slowly began to undo the bow tied around your hips while he gently nipped at your neck, making your stomach swell with arousal. 

“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, carefully backing up until your legs hit the lounge chair behind you, Frankie gently guiding you to sit down and lay back while he nestled himself between your legs, draping each one over his bare, broad shoulders, his tanned and freckled skin glowing in the blazing afternoon sun. 

Frankie wasted no time planting soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, the familiar scratch of his beard and mustache against your skin making you moan in eager anticipation as you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your swimsuit bottoms. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? I’m so lucky.” He whispered between kisses along the meat of your thighs before stopping at your core, letting his fingers brush against the fabric of your swimsuit, sneaking under the material just enough to feel how wet you had already become in the few short moments since you had sat down. 

“Seems like you're pretty wet for not even getting in the pool yet, Hermosa.” Frankie teased, the ghosting of his fingers along your cunt making you whine as you propped your head up to see the devilish smirk between his cheeks. 

Almost painfully slowly, Frankie untied the first, then second bow holding your bottoms together on each hip, watching your swimsuit fall to the ground, revealing your pussy, slick and puffy, worked up from Frankie’s touch. 

“So pretty…” He cooed, letting his fingers drag across your cunt, collecting your arousal and rubbing at your clit, already aching to be touched. 

Frankie was nothing if not a methodical man, memorizing every twitch and hitched breath beneath his touch, learning all the things that absolutely drove you wild.

Knowing that he could be the only one to make you feel this good got him off more than anything else ever could.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your lips fell to a perfectly parted “O” as he pressed more pressure against your sensitive nub, and how they fell even wider as he pressed two of his fingers into your entrance, gently curling them to bump against the soft, spongy spot inside you that had you clenching around his hand. 

“Oh Frankie… Fuck…” You whimpered, your head falling back as Frankie’s fingers were soon followed by his tongue, licking a long, broad strip across your cunt, ​​putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to make that all too familiar sweet tingling sensation to start build in your stomach. 

Frankie’s tongue danced in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you with just his fingers. That, combined with the meticulous and skilled motions of his tongue had the coil in your belly beginning to tighten further and further. 

Your hand shot down between your parted legs, reaching to grab a fistful of Frankie’s brown, curly locks, thick and sweaty from the heat, tugging just hard enough to force his gaze up towards you, your eyes locking with his rich, brown ones. 

“F-Frankie-” Was all you were able to mutter as he continued with his fingers to press against your g-spot, slick coating his digits with each stroke. He licked one more strip along your pussy before placing soft kisses on your clit and the inside of your thighs, peeking up at you with a boyish grin. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. Wanna taste you all over me.” Frankie moaned, the low rumble of his words making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as he dove back between your legs, wrapping his free arm around one of your thighs, firmly holding you in place. 

Curving his fingers ever so slightly and latching his lips around your clit, you knew it was only a matter of moments before Frankie was about to make you fall apart completely. You could feel your legs begin to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter around his fingers, able to utter nothing but a “F-fuck…” as you felt your orgasm rip through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins and soaked Frankie below you. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum for him with everything that you had in you, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become. Your pussy was slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the way Frankie had fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” You whispered under your breath, still trying to regain your composure as you looked down at a satisfied Frankie, wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand with a smirk. 

“Always taste so sweet, Hermosa. You’re so fucking hot, I swear you’d make me melt faster than the sun.” 

The two of you both couldn’t help but snort at Frankie’s cheesy comment, sitting up as you giggled to grab Frankie’s face and bring him in for a long, deep kiss, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. 

“You are such a cheeseball, Fransisco Morales. I can’t believe that- Frankie! Frankie! Put me down! No, no, no, no, you better not-” But before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Frankie had already picked you up out of your chair, flung you over his shoulder and had you flailing your arms and legs as he carried you towards the edge of the pool, jumping in with you mid-way through your poorly fought protest. 

Your heads bobbed to the surface, still in a fit of laughter as you floated in the refreshing cool of the sparkling pool water, you wrapped your legs around Frankie’s waist, draping your arms over his shoulders while he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“Sorry, mi amor, what were you saying?” Frankie teased, raising a playful eyebrow at you as he grinned with his goofy smile, making you over dramatically roll your eyes at him. 

“One, that you are the biggest goof I’ve ever met and I love you for it,” You snickered, plating a soft kiss on his plush lips, “and two, I think I can practically hear Pope screaming at you for the fact I’m half naked in his pool.” 

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”   

Taglist

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby

@fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha

@jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

@pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns

@missladym1981 @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color

@persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow

@vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller

@mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring

@itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[joostsblog]

I love love loveee your writing for Joost!!

Could you do a longer one shot, where Joost is playing the reader his album (preferably Fryslân) with Florida 2009, a she comforts him? Would be amazing <3

Leyla, write one fic as it was requested challenge, level impossible 😅 so I altered your request to be about Liverpool bc I didn't think I could do it justice with florida 2009 being such a personal song, I hope you understand ❣️

Liverpool ~ Joost Klein oneshot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Your boyfriend Joost shows you his new album and the end of Liverpool holds a little surprise for you which will change your relationship forever.

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: Here I am still writing something while I said I wouldn't do so on vacation lol ☀️ if you liked it, you can show your support by leaving a reblog 🫶

Warnings: not proofread

"I think I'm ready," Joost stood in the doorway of your shared apartment.

You looked up from your phone and your face lit up as you knew what this meant. Joost was a perfectionist and avoided showing you rough mixes of his songs because he wanted you to experience them as they were intended - perfectly finished. He had only shown you two finished songs from the album he was working on and now he was finally ready to play the album front to back for you.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you got up from the sofa and walked towards him. He nodded and you could tell that he was nervous. "I'm sure it's gonna be amazing," you said and gave a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Don't sing your praises too early," he laughed.

You sat down in his makeshift home studio and he handed you a pair of headphones, putting some on as well. You put your hand on his knee as he was looking up the files on his computer. Just as he was about to press play, he looked at you again.

"I'm not sure I should even look at you," he laughed nervously. You gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"Do whatever feels comfortable to you," you said with a smile. "I'm gonna love it."

Joost nodded took your hand into his and pressed play. Before you closed your eyes to focus on the music you gave a quick peck to Joost's cheek.

As you were listening through the album, you bopped your head along, smiled and noticed all the shy glances Joost was giving you to check for your reaction. You were right, you did love it. As the last song Liverpool slowly came to its end, you could tell that Joost was watching your face very intently now. The song ended with a series of shout-outs to Joost's friends and collaborators, which warmed your heart.

Shouts-out to Tantu Beats

Shout-out to Joost Klein

Shout-out to Dylan meine brudi

Shouts-out Stuntje shouts-out Wim Hof

Shout-out to Jack Parow out in South Africa

Shouts-out to Apson

Shouts-out Nathan Vandergunst

Damn, shouts-out Enzo Knol

Shout-out to (Y/N)

Shout-out you for listening to my album

I fucking love you man

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard your name appear in the song and your eyes immediately began to water.

You and Joost had both agreed pretty early on in your relationship to keep it private. No one knew that Joost was in a committed relationship and especially no one (except for your friends and family) knew that the person he loved was you. It was the right decision at the time because it allowed you to love and live in private without any unwanted attention. But the longer you had been with Joost, the more the both of you had talked about wanting to actually express your love for each other publicly as well. You just didn't expect that Joost was ready for a step like this - putting your name in one of his songs.

As the song finished you both put your headphones down. Your eyes were still welling with tears and your smile was wide.

"I can take it out if you want to," Joost offered hesitantly and you shook your head no immediately.

"No, please keep it," you said and cupped his face with your hands. "I love it," you said before kissing his soft lips which curved into a grin.

It didn't take long for fans to pick up on your name in Liverpool after the album dropped. Fans took to Twitter, TikTok and Tumblr to voice their opinions of the album and also their confusion about that unknown name.

"Who tf is (Y/N)?"

"IKR? I swear I've never heard that name before"

"Maybe she's his manager???"

"I doubt it, why would he thank her last after all of his friends?"

"Wait, let me check something, I think I've seen her Instagram account before!!"

To your surprise, it also didn't take long before fans found your Instagram account with just a few hundred followers just because you appeared on Joost's follow list and he commented on your posts frequently. There were no pictures of the two together on your account but through puzzling together locations and outfits, some fans quickly found out that you spend a lot of time together.

The follows, likes and comments slowly came flooding in and you realised that your relationship wasn't so private anymore. But even the few nasty comments didn't make you regret your decision.

So when a few days passed and the comments persisted ("is she Joost's gf?") you decided to upload a picture to your story.

the cat's out the bag, you captioned a picture of you happily cuddling with a cat in your arms, another hand also visible stroking the cat. A hand with a 1983 tattoo.

[doctorbeth]

Rabbit -- one of your cherished stuffed companions

Rabbit belongs to one of you dear people, and she gave me permission to share his story with you.:-) He was in the hospital about a year ago.

She initially wrote:

I live in South Florida and I am a big fan of your hospital! I have a stuffed rabbit plush animal, I believe he may have once been a Bugs Bunny plush, but to me he has always been "Rabbit" and I cannot find any leads online as to his "origins". Rabbit has been with me since I was 6 months old-- he's almost 24 years old! He's been my constant companion, and I still sleep with him and love him to this day. As you might imagine, this has led to many surgeries... 

Lately, Rabbit has had very thin fabric fur, and you can see through to the stuffing (mostly on his tummy). He's also in need of some new stuffing, as his current has gotten pretty clumpy over the years. My mom and I have talked about possibly giving him a  complete fur transplant on his tummy as we have applied patches before, but we aren't experts and don't want to cause him harm! He gets holes in his fabric very easily as he has become very delicate from love over the years... We are almost afraid to touch him with anything other than a hug! 

Now there were many photos attached to this note, and just fyi, for diagnosis the more photos the better, but you all don't need quite so many close ups... here are three critical photos from his diagnosis:

You can really see in the last two photos how thin his fabric was getting.... but he has such a cute face, and it's mostly embroidered, and I thought they may want to keep that, so.... there were many (actually 7!) options for his care. Keep in mind, he's over 2 feet long, too. Here were the treatment options (a spa could be added to any):

1) Given his style of fabric, and his artistic belly patches, and the fact that he has embroidered facial features, we could line his body with new fabric.  This reinforces his body and limbs while keeping his current appearance.  He would get all new body stuffing as part of this treatment, as the stuffing would need to come out for lining and it can't go back in.  But, a small amount of original stuffing would be preserved in a heart in his chest.  With this treatment, he could still wear, but you would see lining before stuffing.  Also, for future repairs, the lining could take the pressure of stitches away from his skin.  I would also minimize the older scarring on his side. 

2) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head. 

3) I can do everything in option 1, plus line his head and ears. 

4) Instead of lining, we could recover just his belly and lower sides of limbs. His original skin (and old patches) would remain underneath, reinforcing the new fabric.  I would get as close as possible to his current fabric color and texture.  Perfect fabric matches are rarely possible, but if that is the case, I will send photos of him with transplant options so you can choose what you like best. I would also minimize his scars. 

5) I can recover his entire torso and limbs (leaving his head and ears as is). I would also minimize his scars.

6) I can recover his belly and lower side of limbs around his patches (keeping his artistic appearance). I would also minimize his scars.

7) I can recover his belly around his patches and recover the rest of his body and limbs. I would also minimize his scars.

His person thought about it, discussed it with her family, and ultimately decided on option 5: recover his entire torso and limbs but leave his head and ears as is. They also added a spa for Rabbit, which would treat the lumpiness of his stuffing as well as clean him.

So Rabbit flew to the hospital and began treatment with his bubble bath:

He got restuffed before recovering, so here is his heart being made and installed with a bit of his original stuffing:

I started by recovering his gray areas, leaving the white of his pawpads and tail original. At this point, I sent chubbiness approval photos and let his person decide whether she still wanted to recover the white (which was in better shape than the gray):

His person wrote: "Wow, he looks amazing!! His chubbiness looks perfect, I can't wait to hold him! I would like to recover his white patches of fur"

So Rabbit got closed up, and the white got recovered, and then he was ready to fly home!

Approved, Rabbit flew home to Florida. When he arrived back cross country, his person wrote:

Rabbit is home!! Thank you so, so much!! He looks amazing, he's soooo soft and cuddly, I can't wait to spend many many more years with my darling angel rabbit! I cannot thank you enough Doctor, you're truly an angel!! I'm so blessed to have found you and your lovely hospital!! My mom and I can't stop gushing over how soft and cuddly Rabbit is, he's like brand new! I'll continue to treasure him for the rest of my life with your help!

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Writing Advice #?: Don’t write out accents.

The Surface-Level Problem: It’s distracting at best, illegible at worst. 

The following passage from Sons and Lovers has never made a whit of sense to me:

“I ham, Walter, my lad,’ ’e says; ‘ta’e which on ’em ter’s a mind.’ An’ so I took one, an’ thanked ’im. I didn’t like ter shake it afore ’is eyes, but ’e says, ‘Tha’d better ma’e sure it’s a good un. An’ so, yer see, I knowed it was.’”

There’s almost certainly a point to that dialogue — plot, character, theme — but I could not figure out what the words were meant to be, and gave up on the book.  At a lesser extreme, most of Quincey’s lines from Dracula (“I know I ain’t good enough to regulate the fixin’s of your little shoes”) cause American readers to sputter into laughter, which isn’t ideal for a character who is supposed to be sweet and tragic.  Accents-written-out draw attention to mechanical qualities of the text.

Solution #1: Use indicators outside of the quote marks to describe how a character talks.  An Atlanta accent can be “drawling” and a London one “clipped”; a Princeton one can sound “stiff” and a Newark one “relaxed.”  Do they exaggerate their vowels more (North America) or their consonants more (U.K., north Africa)?  Do they sound happy, melodious, frustrated?

The Deeper Problem: It’s ignorant at best, and classist/racist/xenophobic at worst.

You pretty much never see authors writing out their own accents — to the person who has the accent, the words just sound like words.  It’s only when the accent is somehow “other” to the author that it gets written out.

And the accents that we consider “other” and “wrong” (even if no one ever uses those words, the decision to deliberately misspell words still conveys it) are pretty much never the ones from wealthy and educated parts of the country.  Instead, the accents with misspelled words and awkward inflection are those from other countries, from other social classes, from other ethnicities.  If your Maine characters speak normally and your Florida characters have grammatical errors, then you have conveyed what you consider to be correct and normal speech.  We know what J.K. Rowling thinks of French-accented English, because it’s dripping off of Fleur Delacour’s every line.

At the bizarre extreme, we see inappropriate application of North U.K. and South U.S.-isms to every uneducated and/or poor character ever to appear in fan fic.  When wanting to get across that Steve Rogers is a simple Brooklyn boy, MCU fans have him slip into “mustn’t” and “we is.”  When conveying that Robin 2.0 is raised poor in Newark, he uses “ain’t” and “y’all” and “din.”  Never mind that Iron Man is from Manhattan, or that Robin 3.0 is raised wealthy in Newark; neither of them ever gets a written-out accent.

Solution #2: A little word choice can go a long way, and a little research can go even further.  Listen carefully to the way people talk — on the bus, in a café, on unscripted YouTube — and write down their exact word choice.  “We good” literally means the same thing as “no thank you,” but one’s a lot more formal than the other.  “Ain’t” is a perfectly good synonym for “am not,” but not everyone will use it.

The Obscure Problem: It’s not even how people talk.

Look at how auto-transcription software messes up speaking styles, and it’s obvious that no one pronounces every spoken sound in every word that comes out of their mouth.  Consider how Americans say “you all right?”; 99% of us actually say something like “yait?”, using tone and head tilt to convey meaning.  Politicians speak very formally; friends at bars speak very informally.

An example: I’m from Baltimore, Maryland.  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Texas, in which case I’m from “Baltmore, Marlind.”  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Pennsylvania, in which case I’m from “Balmore, Marlin.”  If I’m speaking to a fellow Marylander, I’m of course from “Bamor.”  (If I’m speaking to a non-American, I’m of course from “Washington D.C.”)  Trying to capture every phoneme of change from moment to moment and setting to setting would be ridiculous; better just to say I inflect more when talking to people from outside my region.

When you write out an accent, you insert yourself, the writer, as an implied listener.  You inflict your value judgments and your linguistic ear on the reader, and you take away from the story.

Solution #3: When in doubt, just write the dialogue how you would talk.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Scallion (The Surprise, Part 16)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, pregnancy times, vague mentions of sex, very vague mentions of past trauma (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You're almost at the third trimester, and Emily decides to take you on a surprise babymoon. The catch: she absolutely will not reveal where you're going. Road trip fluff ensues.

Week 26: The Scallion

You floated somewhere in between sleeping and waking, reluctant to move, relishing the weight of Emily’s arms around you, the warm solidity of her body pressed into your back. It wasn’t often these last few weeks that you woke up with her next to you. She was early to work and late coming back. You knew she was just trying to get everything in order, so that when she went on parental leave, her team would be okay. But you’d missed this, you’d missed her.

You blinked your eyes open, fighting off a stretch so as not to disturb Emily, but jerked up, throwing the covers off when you saw the time. Emily grabbed your arm instinctively, protectively, bleary with sleep.

“What!?” she called, blinking into the sun that streamed through the curtains. “What is it!?”

“It’s 10:30!” you yelled, waddling as fast as you could toward the closet and fumbling as you pulled on a pair of shorts. “I’m supposed to be at work! You’re supposed to be at work!” You poked your head out of a t-shirt, staring at Emily with a mix of frustration and panic. “Why aren’t you at work!? You always get up first. I know because I get up when you get up.”

“Sweetheart, calm down.” Emily chuckled, standing to squeeze your hands in hers and plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not going to work today.”

Your annoyance gave way to a flood of concern.

“Are you sick?” you asked, looking at her a bit more closely and placing the back of your hand on her forehead.

“No,” she said, leading you to the bed, even as you were fidgeting to get to your home office and log on to Slack. “You’re not going to work today either.”

“Oh, but I am,” you argued, trying and failing not to get drawn in by her lips tracing down your neck. “I’ve got important stuff to do. Not, you know, catching-serial-killers important, but a little important. It’s kind of hard to play hooky when you work from home. My boss will kill me.”

“What if I told you I already talked to him?” Emily teased, and you pulled back, taking her face in her hands to see if she was being serious.

“You talked to my boss?” You were incredulous. Emily had only met your boss a handful of times, at the company holiday dinner, where they flew you in and put you up at a hotel.

“I did.” Emily placed a warm kiss on the corner of your mouth and stood, leaving you confused and honestly a little worked up. She disappeared down the hallway, her voice trailing back to you. “And you’re not going to work today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.”

She reemerged, rolling two suitcases behind her, presenting them to you with an expression of such self-satisfaction, such unbridled joy and devotion, that you would have acted thrilled even if she’d said she was taking you on a trip to the laundromat.

“Emily Prentiss,” you exclaimed, standing and tucking her hair behind her ear. “Are you taking me on a surprise vacation?!”

“I’m taking you on a surprise babymoon,” she clarified, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing you.

Emily refused to tell you where you were going, not then, not even as you dug into a box of Cheez-Its she’d packed for the road and watched her merge onto I-95 South.

“South?” you commented, handing her a few Cheez-Its as she held out her hand. She nodded, then shrugged.

“Not too far South, I hope,” you said, staring out the window. “I know you didn’t grow up in the South like me, but I meant it when I said Florida’s not safe for us.”

“I’m not taking you to Florida, Y/N,” she scoffed. “I wouldn’t take you somewhere you didn’t feel safe.”

After a few minutes, she continued. “Also, you know I’ll always keep you safe, no matter where we are. I mean, fuck, I’m packing!”

“You are?” you said suggestively, twirling a finger through the hair at Emily’s nape.

She blushed. “Not that kind of packing. A gun!”

You leaned over the center console to kiss her cheek, massaging her shoulders. “Yes, Emily, love of my life, I know you’ll keep me safe, even in Florida.”

You drove in silence for a while when a horrible thought struck you. “You did bring the stuff for the other kind of packing, right?”

“What is this, amateur hour?” Emily replied. “Of course I did.”

You loved road trips. You were a passenger princess down to your very core. You loved choosing the podcasts and the music and handling the snacks and holding Emily’s hand as she drove. But you weren’t used to being six months pregnant on a road trip. You had a hard time getting comfortable, shifting and squirming in your seat. And you had to pee all the time.

You’d already stopped for lunch and a bathroom break once, but you were starting to feel the pressure yet again. You were passing through Norfolk, Virginia, and the further South you got, the more conscious you were of cities. You’d stopped at enough rural Southern gas stations to know that sometimes it was hard to find ones that felt safe. You knew that’d be doubly true now, as a visibly-queer, pregnant couple. Emily alone could pass as straight, except around other queer people, who clocked her almost immediately. You, on the other hand, looked queer. It was dangerous enough for you in the South, depending on where you were. Pregnant? And with a wife? You knew it’d be worse.

“How much longer?” you asked.

“What are you, six?” Emily teased.

You huffed, pouting. “No, I’m six months pregnant with your baby, and I have to pee all the time and my back is killing me.”

You immediately regretted snapping as you watched Emily’s face fall. “I’m sorry, honey,” you said, rubbing the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry. You’re doing something so nice for us, and all I can think about is my next pee break.”

She cracked a smile and lifted your hand to her lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “It’s okay,” she assured you. “I forget the little rapscallion is taking up all your bladder space. We’ve got about two hours left. I’ll find somewhere for us to stop.”

You gasped and pointed out the window to an exit sign. “Emily, look, look, look! Cracker Barrel!”

She gaped at you. “That’s where you feel safe peeing?!”

“They’re LGBTQ-friendly,” you protested. “And they’ve got those candy sticks like Little House on the Prairie.”

As you pulled into the parking lot, she looked apprehensively at the rocking chairs, the old, straight couples making their way in, the several lifted trucks.

You clambered happily out of the passenger seat, Emily trailing behind you, hand lightly grazing her concealed carry holster. She felt nearly assaulted by kitschy Southern goods upon walking in, making sure you’d made it to the bathroom before looking around. So much stuff. All with dumb sayings like, “Bless your biscuits and gravy,” or “All I need is Jesus and coffee.”

It was moments like this that Emily realized just how different your upbringing had been than hers. Of course, Emily’s childhood was anything but normal, but her home environment had been–she thought–rather generically American. But you! You’d expanded her ideas of the South as a racist, bigoted, ignorant monolith because you were none of those things. You were one of the smartest people she knew, the kindest and least judgmental. She hated when people made assumptions about you based on where you were from or on the fact that you said “y’all.” She hated even more that, a decade ago, she would have made those exact same assumptions.

“Hey,” you said, startling her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Emily breathed, conscious and a little sad to notice how you stopped yourself from looping your arm with hers, from using pet names, from doing anything to suggest that you were more than friends. “Did you get your prairie snacks or whatever?”

“Yep!” You grinned and held up a fistful of colorful, striped candy sticks.

Another hour in the car and you were dutifully sucking on a strawberry lemon candy stick, bouncing your head in time with Salt-N-Pepa’s “Whatta Man.”

“This song makes me think of you,” you observed out of the blue.

Emily cackled. “What!? Why!?”

You grinned. “Because you’re crazy and you make me laugh and I do want to have your baby!”

She laughed, and it made your heart soar. She was so pretty when she laughed, really laughed. It was something not a whole lot of people got to see.

“So I’m the man in this scenario?”

“No!” you argued. “Sometimes I’m Whatta Man. Just depends on how I’m feeling. That’s what’s great about being gay.”

“Mm, I don’t know, I can think of a few better things about being gay,” Emily said, squeezing your thigh.

As the car approached a bridge and a big, blue expanse of water, you sat up straight and craned your neck.

“Water!” you exclaimed, looking for signs to identify it. “The Currituck Sound?” Your heart leapt and your stomach did somersaults.

You turned to Emily, nearly falling on her to lean over the console. “Are we going to the Outer Banks!?” you squealed.

Emily nodded, smiling big.

You were nearly bursting with excitement. “That’s where my family always went! Before…” Well, before your family hadn’t been able to go anymore.

“I know it is,” Emily said, holding your hand. “I got us a little beachfront house with a balcony and a hot tub right down the street from where your family used to stay in Nags Head.”

“How did you know where it was?!” you asked, breathless, bringing Emily’s hand to your lips and kissing it again and again.

“I called your mom,” she smirked.

“God, I love you so much.” You rolled down the window and hung your head out like a dog, much to Emily’s amusement, smelling the salty, briny air that was so familiar and so nostalgic to you.

Half an hour later, you were pulling down a sandy drive on a street that was synonymous with childhood happiness. Your mom had grown up here, and you’d spent your summers as a young child tramping about the marshes, boogie boarding, identifying shells, and building sand castles. You remembered fish fries on the back porch, how you always hid from your grandfather as he cleaned the fresh-caught flounder and red drum. You remembered ice cream cones dripping down your fingers, washing them off in the surf. The fresh, almost sandpapered feeling of emerging from a shower after a day spent outside. The way your body still rocked with the waves when you crawled into bed at night.

You were beyond thrilled to share it with Emily. It was as if you were inviting Emily back in time, to a place you had felt so deeply yourself. You couldn’t wait to be there with her. To show her all the shell shapes and watch the sunrise and tell her about the dunes and how important they are. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep rocked by Emily and by the memory of the waves.

As you stepped out of the car and followed Emily up the stairs and into the house, you both stopped and stared at the wall of sliding glass doors. The perfect ocean, mellowed in the late afternoon light. The sound of the waves crashing was music to your ears. You wrapped your arm around Emily’s and took her hand, planting a kiss on her shoulder and leaning into her. You didn’t know how it’d be possible to be happier.

And then it hit you–you could come back with the baby. You could come back again and again, just like you had when you were little.

“Em,” you said quietly.

“Yeah, baby?” She moved to wrap her arms around you from behind, resting her palms over your baby bump.

“Can we come back here? With the baby?”

You could feel Emily’s breath on your neck.”I booked this week in June for the next three years.”

And the fact that she’d brought you here, that she’d known this is where you’d want to be, where you’d want all of you to be–it brought tears to your eyes. She was starting a tradition. No, she was restarting a tradition, in a new way, that would fit your new family. It was perfect. She was perfect.

“Hey, now,” she said as you sniffled, wiping your eyes. “No tears.” She kissed you softly, lovingly, running her thumbs back and forth along your cheekbones.

When she pulled away, you were smiling, eyes twinkling and mischievous.

“You want to go put your toes in the water, don’t you?” Emily grinned.

You nodded, and grabbed her hand, pulling her after you. Out the back door, across the boardwalk that protected the dunes, running as fast as your little pregnant body could take you until you hit the water. It was cool and salty and strong and you felt happier than perhaps you’d ever been–especially as Emily joined you.

And as she watched you kick around in the water, hair blowing in the salt air, cheeks red with heat and excitement, she knew she’d done good. She’d done good with it all. With the beach house. The Outer Banks. With deciding to have a child with you. With choosing you. You were just right. You were perfect. She could watch you forever, content to bask in your joy. As if you were the sun. And, to Emily, you were.

[stromer]

just realized both the green guys lost today... at least we all still have matthew tkachuk

[physics-of-one-piece]

Timezones in One Piece World

I am back with a physics post! Well, more meteorology/geography post!

I was inspired to create a timezone map after reading the newest chapter of Doflamingo's Marine by @moonbaby26 where a timezone difference was mentioned, which was a great detail! I remember thinking about timezones in OP world but never got around to it but I did now. So it made me wonder just what timezone is Dressrosa (my fav island 🤗) in, what timezone are the other islands in?

SO!

I pulled a grid of irl timezones, simplified it, and put it over the One Piece World Map! (You can see some parts where I was like, no keep it simple, simplify it).

HERE IT IS!

UTC is coordinated universal time, aka time in the center of the world. Anyway, here are the islands + locations and I'll put some ANs for some cus some are interesting.

Paradise:

Reverse Mountain [UTC -1]

Red Line Center [UTC -1]

Twin Cape [UTC 0] Greenwhich Mean Time,

📍Iceland

I find it PERFECT the exit from Reverse Mountain into Grand Line are the ones in the center of the One Piece World, not the Red Line Itself.

Cactus Island [UTC 0] Western European Time (WET)

📍irl ex: Reykyavik, Iceland

Little Garden [UTC +1] Central European Time (CET)

📍 Italy, Spain

Drum Island [UTC +2] Eastern European Summer Time (EEST)

Alabasta [UTC +3] irl ex:

📍

Jaya [UTC +4]

Skypiea [UTC +4]

Long Ring Rong Island [UTC +5]

Water 7 [UTC +6]

Amazon Lily [UTC +7]

Enies Lobby [UTC +6]

Florian Triangle [UTC +9] Japan Standard Time

Sabaody Archipelago [UTC +10]

Impel Down [UTC +8]

Marineford [UTC +9] Japan Standard Time (JST)

Holy Land of Mariejois [UTC +9] New Zealand Standard Time

Fishman Island [UTC +10]

New World

New Marineford [UTC -8] Baker Island Time (BIT)

Punk Hazard [UTC -8] Samoa Standard Time (SST)

Dressrosa [UTC -7] Pacific Daylight Time

📍 Los Angeles

It used to be in Hawaii, it fit so much, whyyyy 😭😭

Totto Land [UTC -5] Eastern Standard Time

📍irl ex: Florida, U.S.

Wano Country [UTC -4]

📍irl ex:

Uf, I think that's all the big locations. I recommend using just the UTC and then you go minus or plus just so you don't have to go converting everything. The One Piece world most likely just says "Universal Time + (number)" or sth.

So, for example, if it's 17:00 (5 pm) in Marineford (UTC +9) on a Monday, it will then be 1 am on Monday in Dressrosa.

17 - 9 (to get UTC 0) = 8 am Monday (UTC 0)

Then another -7 hours, you get Monday 1 am (UTC -7) in Dressrosa. So Dressrosa is 16 HOURS behind Original Marineford.

Interesting how Doflamingo settled in Dressrosa, which is the entire 22 hours behind Holy Land by time, symbolising how his family abandoned the privileges of Celestial Dragons. Nice.

Also, for the Blues, regarding seasons:

North Blue & East Blue = North Hemisphere such as Europe & U.S. (winter months - December, January, February)

West Blue & South Blue - South Hemisphere (like Australia & New Zealand) so the winter months are June, July, August.

The seasons are interchangable in the Grand Line depending on the islands!

Taglist: @fanaticsnail