#pweek

[sapphim]

wait if pweekes accidentally misnamed Rendorn Guerrin as Connor and decided to rectify the mistake by making it canon that Rowan, Eamon, and Teagan had two daddies, by that logic and following that precedent does that make it definitely officially canon that Anora had two mommies since Celia Mac Tir was once erroneously misnamed as Maeve? like I know some people have hc'd it but precedent says it's absolutely canon now no takebacksies right

[wutlaikalikes]

Gavis Bettel PWEEK: Brain ruined from Scrapped Watchman arc

[tikkisaram]

Something Shamrocking — My Top Seven Irish Poems

These poems are 'Irish' for having been written by poets from Ireland, but also in that they capture something central to Irish identity. The selection is wide due to the sheer diversity of Irish culture, as well as the nation's rich history! ;^)

1. Moyra Donaldson - Nest

While the masses will often refer to actors born in the Northern Ireland who identify as Irish as such, the same luxury is not given to poets. Poor Donaldson is often misidentified as British, so I had to include her in my Irish pweek! This poem discusses both the beauty of horses and their unmatched loyalty. The horse in this poem is abandoned by its owner and waits in the same spot until their death — a haunting image indeed. This image is a clever metaphor for British people not being interested in the Irish who suffered terribly under their rule. Let this poem be a warning that we all need to take care of that which we are responsible for!

My horse is waiting, Bright and patient, His skin sunlight And his breath air Amongst the moss His bones are white and dry

2. Eva Gore Booth - The Eternal Rebel

Gore Booth is the sister of one of Ireland’s most famous women in history — Countess Constance Markievicz. While Markievicz took to the streets to fight for what she believed in, Gore Booth performed her activism through poetry. This is a deeply sad poem about soldiers being haunted by past demons and their injuries; Gore Booth ensures that these people are not forgotten and reminds us that their cause of eventual peace was more than worthy.

Free soul of fire, break down their chains and bars, Drive out those unclean phantoms of the brain, Till every living thing be friends again, And our lost earth true comrade to the stars.

3. Brendan Kennelly - Begin

I consider this beautifully uplifting poem especially suited for the list because I wanted to include an entry featuring swans, the importance of which in Irish mythology and culture cannot be overstated. While I thought about including a poem about the classic Irish myth of The Children of Lír for this slot, I realized that it would not be fair to ignore this already-great poem with swans in it. Kennelly describes the birds perfectly, realising that they are graceful from a distance but that up close they can be quite rude animals. They often do not travel in groups and they do not seem able to communicate with other species. Swans are rarely included in poems about everyday Irish life so it is nice to see Kennelly break from normativity! ;^)

Begin to the pageant of queuing girls the arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal

4. Gofraidh Fionn Ó Dálaigh - A chláirsioch Chnuic Í Chosgair

I simply had to include a poem in ancient Gaelic on this list; it is one of the most beautiful languages that I know, which is really saying something. This poem is equally beautiful and discuses how harps are superior to other instruments. This poet from the 14th century takes their time in detailing all that the national instrument of Ireland has managed to accomplish — including keeping them from committing sins!

A bháthadh gacha croinn chiúil, a chrann taitneamhach taidhiúir, a chomhnaidhi eidir chloinn gCoinn, a chroinn donnbhuidhi dhíoghainn

5. Uinsionn Ó Domhaill - An deoch is fearr

Modern Irish is as under appreciated as the ancient Gaelic, so I wanted to include both. Luckily I speak both language fluently so had a wide range of options to chose from. I found this cute poem about tea by the skilled modern writer Ó Domhaill to be perfect for our pweek; I chose tea over whiskey as both are national drinks of Ireland and one is clearly superior to the other. ;^)

Cupa tae, Is maith liom é, Am ar bith, I rith an lae.

6. Seamus Heaney - The Early Purges

Loyal Tikki Troops will understand that I simply had to include Heaney this week. This poem describes the brutal relationship between life and death in rural life; of course — as is the case with most of Heaney’s poetry — there is an underlying queer aspect here. Heaney laments the fact that in cities and places of large populations one would find it extremely difficult to get away with murdering a homosexual or beating them until they claim their sexuality has changed; in more isolated areas, however, it is much easier for such behaviour to go unchallenged. I admire how Heaney chooses such an interesting way of putting his suffering into words! :^(

'Prevention of cruelty' talk cuts ice in town Where they consider death unnatural But on well-run farms pests have to be kept down.

7. Samuel Lover - The Four-Leaved Shamrock

Lover is more famous for his songs than for his poetry; this is a shame, because he has written some truly beautiful verse. This is my favourite of his poems, and it is about one of Ireland’s most important symbols to boot. It is believed that finding a four-leaved shamrock will bring you luck and good fortune; Lover doesn’t want to use this luck on himself, however, but on those less fortunate than he is. What a selfless soul — surely worthy of his last name! ;^)

I'll seek a four-leaved shamrock in all the fairy dells, And if I find the charmed leaves, oh, how I'll weave my spells! I would not waste my magic might on diamond, pearl, or gold, For treasure tires the weary sense,—such triumph is but cold; But I would play th' enchanter's part, in casting bliss around,— Oh! not a tear, nor aching heart, should in the world be found

[jellybeanbois]

So, admidst all this turmoil and hate and such, i created an aesthetic for myself, Craig, and Pete, featuring things we all enjoy and our how our relationship was kinda :) - Tweek

[top-dawg27]

Late Submission for Pepperony Week, Day 6, “High School/College AU”

Summary:

Tony and Pepper meet as teens in Spring Break. College AU.

[maximoffslilwitchintraining]

Any new WandaNat x Reader in the making, and can we get a widdle sneak Pweek on what it’ll be about? Or a hint? 🥺👉👈

Hi. 🌹 Haha well I am working on a lot of things currently.

Hmmm a sneak peak you say? Alright, I suppose I can share. 🧡 ;)

I seem to get new ideas all the time, plus I got quite a few requests to get to (some really angsty ones coming up). My priority will be on finishing part 3 and 4 of the “mommy… I mean Wanda” fic (yes both, since I made you all wait, I think I’ll drop them both. Tomorrow? If nothing gets in my way). Haha I am visiting a friend til tomorrow, but I’ll simply write on the train. I’ll make it a challenge to see how far I can get in an hour.

Then I got some ideas tonight for another slightly longer fic, with college reader and professors (Russian ofc) wandanat. That will be based on a little experience of my own, as crazy as it will sound.(Old universities and their strange traditions are fiction worthy) That one will be a bit of a slow-burn, maybe angst, but with a happy ending for sure. Expect a strangely fancy setting, ball gowns and lots of tense gay glances, across the room. Who doesn’t love tense gay glances. This will be written once I am done with the other fic or well at least done with part 3 and 4, cause idk how many parts I’ll do.

There’s much more, but that’s what’ll share rn. I hope it intrigues 😘

[nagi-chii]

Omg! I found your drawings a few months ago, and I can really say that I love your style like a lot. Is pretty cute! And your Pete is life for me 💖💖 Can you pleaseeeee, make a drawing of him with Tweek? I really ship them but there are not enough fanarts of the ship! I hope you are doing well!! Greetings from Colombia ahjsjd 💕🇨🇴

this ship is actually pretty cool ! they have a really interesting dynamic and i love to think of how cool pete would think tweek is ^^ thanks for the ask !! 

[midgardianweasley]

Can…can we like…can get like a…like widdle sneak pweek? Of the upcoming Nat x reader wedding series- LIKE A FUNNY LINE OR SOMETHING! GIVE US ANYTHING! 🙏🥺

would the titles of each part be a good sneak peek?? 👀

[sapphim]

man I remember when I thought at the time that it was self-indulgent for dgaider and pweekes to release entire dlcs dedicated to their favorite #problematic mages. I haven't been watching any of the da4 promo material but y'all seem tired

[lilacgay]

y'all i love the kazoo kid meme as much as the next person but like i hope my post stops getting notes bc like why are you still rebloging this

[tikkisaram]

Digging

[Seamus Heaney - Digging]

Original:

Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft Against the inside knee was levered firmly. He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep To scatter new potatoes that we picked, Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade. Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day Than any other man on Toner’s bog. Once I carried him milk in a bottle Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up To drink it, then fell to right away Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods Over his shoulder, going down and down For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge Through living roots awaken in my head. But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests. I’ll dig with it.

Lipolation:

Between my index and my thumb The squat pen sits, snug as a gun.

Beneath my window, a choppy, gasping sound Of the swung spade sinking down: My dad, digging. I peek out

And his back and backside in the bushes bend down, come up two decades away Stooping, swooping to the beat of potatoes As he was digging.

The dense boot weighed down the spade, the shaft Against the inside knee was focus and moment. He yanked out the tops, sunk the shine of the edge Deep, to put in potatoes we picked, Hands touching, enjoying the stone skin.

By God, my dad could do with a spade. Just as his own dad,

Who could cut twice as much peat in a day As any young man out on the bog. Once I went out to him with beet juice: When he saw me, he stood up, Downed it, then bent back at once, Nicking neat gashes, heaving sods Out, off, away, going down and down To the veins of good peat. Digging.

The dank stench of potatoes, the squish and mush Of soggy peat, the catch, cut of an edge Past tufts and stalks awakens in my head. But I've no spade to dig as those men.

Between my index and my thumb The squat pen sits. I can dig with it.

Heaney has a knack for imbuing seemingly repulsive images with a sense of wonder. The lines "The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap/Of soggy peat" are hardly pleasant, but vivid and strangely alluring. I can only hope that such sensory treasures have survived their lipolatory metamorphosis. ;^)

[imptweak]

Pweek...

obvioulsy a tweek ship.. pete and tweek? i think? theyre cute.. coffee dates.. :)

[raccoonskoodilypoopdungeon]

‪"Owd spowt"‬

Gay Jatsby, 'The Gweat Jatsby' by F Scwott Fwitsgewalt, 2025 (the pweek of the wawwing 20s)

[bucket-fucker]

alienshepard replied to your post: [[MOR] and you know what!!!! you know what...

I want this tattoed on my back boi!! Straight women oversexualise him so much in their m/f fanfictions but gOD FORBID you have him bi because he isn’t a ~nasty like that

for reall!!!! and any time there’s another male in a threesome with him it’s written as kind of hot and dirty like hi people are bisexual jessica!!!!

also, i was just reading your solas post and fuck it’s so fucking true jesus christ

[asarahchapman-blog]

PWEEK 12-CHAPTER 10 AND ADDITIONAL RESEARCH- This chapter was titled Early Christian and Byzantine Art. Christianity began as one of many Eastern cults in the Mediterranean world and in Rome itself during the first century after Christ. The roots of Christianity were in Judaism since Jesus himself was a Jew. Like Judaism, Christianity was founded on written texts, was monotheistic, and taught a good code of ethics. Like certain other cults, Christianity offered a promise of eternal salvation for the faithful. But it differed from these cults in two crucial respects. This chapter talked about how Christian rituals didn’t include animal or blood sacrifices except in symbolic form.

Early Christian Art can be seen on a marble sarcophagus in the Church of S. Maria Antiqua in Rome. On page 155, one side of the stone is pictured. This includes the Old and New Testament scene as well as figures combining Roman with Christian meaning. Basilicas are what Christians worshiped in private homes until the early fourth century.

Justinian and the Byzantine style occurred during the 5th century, the western part of the Roman Empire was overrun by Germanic tribes from Northern Europe. The Ostrogoths occupied the strategic Italian city of Ravenna until it was recaptured. Ravenna was an essential port for controlling trade between the East and the West. Because of its strategic location, it became the Italian center of Justinians empire and the focus of his artistic patronage in Italy.

My favorite part of this chapter was the picture on page 166, the view of the interior of Hagia Sophia after its conversion to a mosque. The colors of the mosque are so pretty and bright and I love the gold domes at the ceiling. The people who went here described it as “a sphere of gold suspended in the sky.” The arches and columns were also so beautiful and detailed.

The Byzantine style continued in Eastern and Western Christendom for several centuries following the age of Justinian. In the eighth and ninth centuries, the very nature of imagery became a subject of dispute.

I choose this painting which is from Australia. It is titled Desert and was painted by Peter Booth. “Here he has interpreted its landscape as an uninhabitable territory marked with dead trees, thorn bushes, rocks, and animal skeletons. A lone cross-shaped form rises from the ground near the center of the composition. The environment of Desert appears apocalyptic, as though we are viewing it in the aftermath of some terrible natural or man-made disaster. As in much of his work, Booth has conjured up a mysterious world between the observed and the imagined.”

http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/1986.219/

[sapphim]

all of anders convos are a MESS if i remember correctly lol. good luck!!

Until this point I never properly appreciated what Amy protected me from by being the designated Anders dialogue modder.

also not to harp on but. what is WITH jhepler and pweekes not only being my least favorite writers just based on their content but also creating UNIQUELY messy dialogue files. anders, sera, and liam's files are NOTABLY convoluted compared to any comparable character in their game