#Polish Heritage Day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imalsorettish · 23 days

Text

It was either today or yesterday, actually it was yesterday thinking about it cuz my boss was there, yesterday at work i had two polish people on my tour. At one point theyre up at the front with me, the woman speaks english but her husband does not. A girl next to them in line asked if they were polish and spoke a teeny bit of polish to them. Her grandmother was from poland. She said she only knew like a few sentences in polish, and they were like ah! yeah! cool :) and i said Omg thats neat! My lineage is polish lithuanian! Small world! And the polish lady goes, oh do you know what polish town youre from? And i said No, my family emigrated to lithuania after poland and I know more about their lives in lithuania than I do about their lives in poland. And she goes mmmmm yeahhhhhh a lot of people say they have polish ancestors but when it really comes down to it they dont actually know what town and theyre not actually polish. BITCH... MY LAST NAME IS A DERIVATIVE OF WOJTEK. EXCUSE THE FUCK OUT OF YOU. IT WAS 150 YEARS AGO! I DONT REMEMBER MY GREAT GREAT GREAT GREAT GREAT GREAT GRAND BUBBES TOWN OF BIRTH DAWG. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TOWN MY CURRENT LIVING GRANDMOTHERS WERE BORN IN. whaddaya want from me. I just said, yeah well. i could tell you the town were from in lithuania. my last name is still lithuanian. like fr man. Cmon. Im white as shit and my family is from chicopee yes we are fucking polish lithuanian. Like there isnt an overlap of population there? I was literally just making polite conversation and youre like HMMMM POSER. Bitch! im fucking polish! How the fuck would u know?

#As if a ton of people didnt move to america and lose their connection to their heritage. As if that never happens with other places #AND FOR THE RECORD #CONSIDERING I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE I WAS POLISH AND LITHUANIAN UNTIL LIKE FIVE YEARS AGO #WE DO A LOT OF STUFF THAT ISNT THE TYPICAL WHITE FAMILY FROM AMERICA DEAL #AND THERE WERE MANY MOMENTS WHERE I WAS CONFUSED WHEN MY FRIENDS DIDNT KNOW WHAT FOOD I WAS TALKING ABOUT #I JUST THOUGHT WE WERE POOR.#AND COULD ONLY EAT NASTY CABBAGE #No hate to cabbage lovers out there. i just dont like it boiled.#The town i grew up in had a really big polish population in it and the daycare director who saw me every day for the first 9 years #of my life before we moved was i think second gen polish and she made it a point to make it part of #school and just something we knew about.#i never questioned it! i thought everyone had aunts you called aunts and aunts you called cioci.#My ancestors were samogitian and im having none of this shit

0 notes

wizardmilfs · 1 year

Text

personal thing

every time i’m reminded of foreign intervention in haiti i end up mad for like an hour and i have to just sit and be mad til i calm down cause i don’t have anyone to talk to about it

#like i'm disconnected from all my extended family #my brother doesn't particularly care about our heritage #and if i start getting too haitian for my (polish) mom's tastes she gets mad #even if i wanted to rant about it to friends there's so much historical context #like the haitian revolution alone is so much to try and explain #so it'd have to be all of that #and only after i finish explaining all the ways haiti's been fucked over then i have to explain how haiti's currently being fucked over???#ugh.#all this talk about biden visiting ottawa has had discussion of haiti on top of it #it's left me a mess all day

0 notes

doberbutts · 3 months

Text

I was to talk briefly about Chronic Bad Take Havers and this sort of logic. Deliberately anonymous screenshots, found in the trans guy tags, posted by known jerks.

Not only am I very tired of the logic that gender is somehow synonymous with race (and frequently said by white people ofc) but also like.

"White history month" doesn't exist because the ethnicities regarded as white have their own individual history months already that are specific and unique to them. "Anti-white racism" doesn't exist because the ethnicities regarded as white that do experience specific and unique oppression have words to describe their own experiences. Trans mascs don't currently have an agreed-upon term for discussing their issues that is specific and unique to them.

"White history month" isn't a thing. That is correct. But Irish heritage month is March, as is Greek. Italian heritage month is October, as is Polish. There *are* months specifically dedicated to those specific experiences.

"Anti-white racism" isn't a thing. However anti-Irish and anti-Italian (also called italophobia) are. Anti-Greek sentiments are so strong that just over a hundred years ago we were still having race riots targeting Greeks IN CANADA. Slavophobia is also a known and discussed term for the continued hatred of slavs to this day.

There *are* words to describe the specific and unique oppression faced by these peoples even if they may have some privilege in other ways.

Trans mascs also experience oppression in specific and unique ways. The comparison falls apart when you know that these groups do indeed have words to describe their experiences.

So why is it that us having ours is so uniquely terrible? Why can we not have space to talk about ourselves?

2K notes · View notes

ctbridges · 1 year

Text

Chick Flick June 8, 2022 - Silkie, Cochin, & Polish Chicks Growing

Welcome to the chick flick of the day, June 8, 2022. This is only their second day in the new brooder, and chickens aren’t much for change. My first set of baby chicks growing up. They hatched these babies out on May 23. We got them on May 24. I ordered them from Cackle Hatchery and have been super happy with what I got. Sometimes the camera jus moves off the babies. ⏱️⏱️Chapters⏱️⏱️00:00…

View On WordPress

0 notes

murderousink23 · 2 years

Text

10/01/2022 is National Cyber Security Awareness Month 🌏, Breast Cancer Awareness Month 🌏, Día del Pasillo Ecuatoriano 🇪🇨, International Raccoon Appreciation Day 🌏, Astronomy Day 🌏, International Coffee Day 🌏, National Hair Day 🇺🇲, National Homemade Cookies Day 🇺🇲, Disability Employment Awareness Month 🇺🇲, Polish American Heritage Month 🇺🇲, National Pizza Month 🇺🇲, Fire Pup Day 🇺🇲, National Dental Hygiene Month 🇺🇲, LGBT History Month 🇺🇲, World Vegetarian Day 🇬🇧, National Bookshop Day 🇬🇧, Unblocktober 🇬🇧, Black History Month 🇬🇧, International Day of Older Persons 🇺🇳

#national cyber security awareness month #breast cancer awareness month #dia del pasillo ecuatoriano #international raccoon appreciation day #astronomy day #international coffee day #national hair day #national homemade cookies day #disability employment awareness month #polish american heritage month #national pizza month #fire pup day #national dental hygiene month #LGBT history month #world vegetarian day #national bookshop day #unblocktober #black history month #international day of older persons

1 note · View note

piece-of-the-pie-if · 7 months

Text

Demo! 🍑 Directory! 🍑 Trigger Warnings! 🍑

It's the first day of senior year and the people are itching for some drama... apparently.

When you get caught slacking by your best friend and staring off into the abyss turns out to be resident cool kid Dylan Quinn you're dragged under in to the cess pool of love-based-drama that surrounds NYC's McKinley High.

Just as you're forced into a love triangle by the school's resident queen of mean, Kinsley Grace–Cameron, for the mere rumour of your supposed crush on Dylan, your least favourite teacher assigns you babysitting duties with the new guy, Shay Walker and the rebel-without-a-cause J Montgomery for your year long finals project──landing you with the starring role in the latest gossip mill.

How are you ever going to survive the graduating class of '25?

There's no murder, there's no magic, there's no monsters or ancient societies, no sci-fi future apocalypse, no treasure to find or deadly goons... just high school seniors navigating romance and maybe an asshole teacher and potential conspiracy theories.

Features! 🍑 FAQ! 🍑

romance one (or more*...) of five love interests! are you in touch with your feelings? could you be non-committal? do you fall hard and fast and with everyone?

customise your mc! from your appearance to your gender to your personality and your family relations!

overcome your senior year of school at Jackson McKinley High! are you studious or a slacker? do you care for popularity or are you content as a relative nobody?

get a job! in your family's bakery or your local café or something more unorthodox!

be the object of the rumour mill! does it feel like unwanted drama is following you? or do you live for it and actively feed into it?

+with five solo routes, two poly routes and two love triangles you have a plethora of choice! love triangles include──dylan and kinsley as well as dylan and theo while poly routes are as such──the cool crush and the mean girl, #kinslan──the new guy and the rebel, #jayne!

──*please note that this is a romance focused i.f and as such no set aro/ace/aroace route is present.

engage in the conspiracy theory surrounding your school! is your least favourite teacher dating your favourite teacher? is there actually a cannibal on the faculty? is there a reason for the sudden spike of suspensions?

Key Pieces! 🍑 [ LI Introductions! ]🍑

[RO] The ‘Crush’!──Dylan Quinn [gender locked─they/them─12/01/2006]

━@.dylquill

comforting smiles, playful eyes, paint stained clothes, chipped nail polish, chest binders, chalk covered fingers, messy hair, cluttered rooms, sculptural clay, dark hair, friendly words, genuine popularity, intense loyalty, unspoken understanding but silent judgement too.

[RO] The New Guy!──Shayne Walker [gender locked─he/him─04/04/2007]

━@.onlyshay

cheeky smirks and cheeky winks, ruffled hair, english accents, comedic timing, wide smiles, loudly laughing, wilting in silence, heartache for home, missing friends, curly brown hair, warm brown eyes, younger brother, older brother, everyday adventures, discovering new people, new places.

[RO] The Mean Girl!──Kinsley Grace–Cameron [gender locked─she/her─11/21/2006]

━@.kgracecameron/@.kinsleys_

shades of green and white, sun bleached blonde hair, cold blue eyes, sunblock tanned patterns, sickly sweet smiles, eye rolls, longing glances, hesitation in silence, secrets behind closed doors, heavy shoulders with a head held high, craving difference, stubborn to a fault.

[RO] The Rebel!──Jaxon/Jasmin Montgomery [gender selectable─he/him or she/her─06/17/2007]

━@.m0ntjax/@.m0ntjas

stick and poke tattoos, cigarette smoke, uncaring attitude, strong and silent type, doesn't know what a shirt is, bloody knuckles, sunglasses collections, secret book worm, borrowed vape pens, complicated family relations, exploding anger, protective older sibling, almost alcoholic, androgyny, short hair, italian heritage, intellectual depth, no regard for authority.

[RO] The Best Friend!──Theo Wesley [gender selectable─he/him, she/her or they them─09/30/2007]

━@.yelsewoeht

hair care as self care, cat parent, not-so-subtle pinning, rooftop picnics, friend dates, jazz cafés, plant parent, eco nerd, photos as memories, dark skin, coiled hair, far sighted glasses, people watching, balcony lover, bookshop worker, essays about love, hugs as a love language, suffer in silence type, made of money but would rather they weren't, smoking weed but only on the weekends, indescribable feeling of loneliness in a crowded room.

The Bestest Friend!──Chris/Chloe/Charlie West [gender locked─he/him, she/her or they/them─02/14/2007]

━@.east_coast_cw

The ‘Rival’!──Valory/Vinny Williamson [gender selectable─she/her or they/them─10/03/2007]

━@.victorywills

The Cool Teacher!──Easton/Estelle Bharti [gender selectable─he/him or she/her─05/19/1992]

The Asshole Teacher!──Nolan Thorp [gender locked─he/him─11/26/1978]

©️ bonnie berry 2023──@moretinyideas 🍑

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #choose your own adventure #cyoa #piece of the pie #piece of the pie if #potp if

419 notes · View notes

tsireyasyawntu · 2 months

Text

your lips, my lips

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- clarisse la rue x daughter of eros! reader

synopsis: valentine’s day- something that everyone truly disliked. until one moment, something changed.

authors note: this is not apart of fault is false (sorry!) but i’m sick with a really bad cold today and i wanted to write something special for clarisse on valentines! so.. Happy valentine’s day, everyone!

Valentine’s day.

Something humans found to be dear to them, coupled people exchanging gifts to one another on the fourteenth of February; the holiday of love.

in camp half blood, valentine’s day was celebrated to the fullest extent of its potential— it was so dear to humans as they had a rather short life span, hence a day to express your love to someone was so precious to the weak minded people. at camp, the holiday was acknowledged by the campers to recognize the importance of being half human, and half god, as well as the lovey dovey atmosphere that followed after. The same was done with other important holidays, such as Halloween and Christmas.

Clarisse la rue did not find the holiday to be particularly pleasant- or pleasant at all, for that matter. Valentine’s day was stupid in her mind. two people smuggling each other in both emotional and physical affection? openly displaying affection? i front of people? such thoughts made the daughter of Ares want to gag.

but than there was you— daughter of Eros, your charm was an automatic reminder of your heritage, and a stark figure of your character.

clarisse felt like a child by how hard she fell for you, stealing the breath from her lungs at every glance she caught of you.

your pretty smile, your wonderful eyes, your sweet face. Clarisse la rue was pissed at herself when she finally realized exactly what her feelings meant, shoving them down like lava to a volcano.

But like all creatures of nature, it was ought to burst out somehow.

and for the young daughter of Ares, her volcano ruptured on valentine’s day- to her fury.

it was a sunny day, but it had never felt so dark to clarisse. Her footsteps shook the earth as she angrily marched through camp, shoving heart shaped balloons from her path and kicking roses she saw on the floor.

The curly haired girl had caught wind that you’d received numerous valentine gifts- chocolates, flowers, posters and even jewelry. knowing people other that clarisse had been eyeing you down for a while made the flickering flame inside her chest burn down towers with her rage.

She stormed through camp with fire following her trail, each step was quaking those around her.

She stormed to cabin 39, where the children of Eros lay.

everyone knew the children of the Greek god of carnal love’s children rivaled those of ancient Greek goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite. You were point of that accusation, the most beautiful girl Clarisse had ever laid her eyes on.

and even now she as she had a torch lighting aflame her chest, she still yearned for your touch— even as she was heading in your direction to explode in a way she wasn’t sure of.

She took a sharp turn around capin 56, for the children of eris— their dark aura usually affecting clarisse now deflected off her skin like a bow to raw metal, the children watching in discord as she stormed to the door of cabin 39.

Clarisse slammed her cinnamon skinned hand against the polished wood harshly, waiting with furrowed brows for someone to answer the door. When she saw the handle move, her back subconsciously straightened.

The wood was pulled back and you were revealed— in all your nauseating, grueling, pure beauty, smile growing wide upon the sight of the curly haired girl outside your door.

“Clarisse!” your voice was smooth like honey, sticky like maple syrup and sweet like sugar. Clarisse ignored the warmth that flushed her body at the soft call of her name you expressed in joy, stupidly gorgeous smile widening at her presence.

in honest, clarisse wanted to bathe in your touch- your voice, your gaze and your heart. She yearned for you in a way she’s never felt, her defensive and rough external force disintegrating pathetic into nothing when you traced your honey soft skin along her arm, pushing hair from her face as the only scent she cpould smell was the sweetness of your person.

Clarisse was scared of her feelings in fact, and the idea that you might like someone other than her had her at the edge of her seat. She knew that it was likely, and if she truly did want you— today would be the day to make the claim.

She huffed, squinting her eyes as you moved from the doorway to welcome her inside. she reluctantly agreed, tucking her chin upward as she took steps forward. Instantly, the smell of sweets and tea attacked her senses with not a single warning— sugar and honey the only smell she could register.

Her face scrunched, overwhelmed by the smell— you laughed, covering your smile with your fingers as you usually did, a cute habit clarisse admired.

“sorry, glykó korítsi. Cole went all out for tou Agíou Valentínou.” Clarisse tucked her face away from your view, scolding herself for faltering under the stupid greek nickname you’ve given her; “pretty girl.”

She took a moment to gather herself, huffing in an upset expression when she examined your cabin.

god, there was no place Clarisse hated more that the Eros Chilren’s Cabin.

the cabin has an intense aura that can drive other demigods insane with arousal— unless that demigod is the child of a love god or goddess once activated by a child of Eros. Clarisse was lucky enough to know you to the point you spared her the torture of the curse on your cabin, and was beyond grateful the so called ‘blessing’ can also be deactivated at will.

clarisss recalled when you first exposed her to your cabin- On the northern part of the first floor, it has a room that can bring to life any sexual and or romantic desire, as well as an exact copy of the person they desire. clarisse found it odd, disgusting even. Nasty fantasies coming to life? how alone and sad does your life have to be you have to imagine yourself with someone you love? she could laugh in their face and ridicule them until they run away crying.

In the living room, there are several shelves with books containing all kinds of unknown and known love stories recorded throughout the ages. It has a large TV in the center, and a rather nice leather couch, may the daughter of ares be so kind to say.

In the east wing lies the kitchen, and on the west wing lies the public bathrooms. There is romantic music playing softly in the background through the means of a record player. That is another reason clarisse despised your cabin; the music.

There is a chandelier hanging from the ceiling with artwork of all kinds of people procreating with one another. On the second floor lies the bedrooms of the children of Eros. Clarisse only knows that because…

Her face turned a subtle shade of pink, barely noticeable on her skin, but the warmth was all the same.

“so, why are you here?” your sticky sweet voice tore clarisse from her thoughts— thoughts she tries her best to… forget.

she cleared her throat— “I wanted to escape this holiday but obviously i came to the wrong cabin,” she lied through her teeth, gesturing to the many heart and love balloons and decorations littering your cabin.

You smile, “You definitely did. This is the last place you should come to on Valentines. Why not go to Eris cabin?” you question, obviously not catching the not-so-obvious hint clarisse thought dropped for you.

“Clearly. and those kids are lame.” she crossed her arms, scanning the area. Your cabin was something else. She felt her cheeks warm once more at the people making out along the stairs of your home, rushing upstairs to the soundproof bedrooms.

Her gaze flickered away, catching yours. Your eyes were red, same as your fathers. They were filled with so many things clarisse could only put her finger on, but all she knew is that her words always died in her throat at their gaze.

“Well, you are welcome to stay, anyway.” you hum, tucking some hair behind your ear as you shifted your weight to a different leg.

Clarisse stood standing with many various of feelings— her knees were uncharacteristically weak, tummy doing summersalts inside her belly, hands shaky as all she wanted to do was—

“come on,” you motioned her over, a strange smile on your face. Clarisse felt herself become uncharacteristically excited as you led her up the stairway to your bedroom, her steps close behind yours as you waved to your siblings in the halls as they sent you a teasing smile before retreating back into their own rooms, with someone who bore little clothes.

Clarisse would never forget the first time she sat foot in your room— a cold winter night, a heated moment— something she would never forget, even though she tried.

as you lead her down the familiar hall, music played lightly from the stairways entrance, echoing throughout the cabin. The sight of your door came to her view, your hand twisting the handle and revealing your room.

Clarisse got immediate flashbacks to the last time she was here, knees once more weakened by the remembrance.

You gently slid your hand down her arm, pulling her into your room and closing the door. Clarisse looked around nervously— your room wasn’t very decorated, only a few things representative of love here and there- most likely gifts from your father. You sat on your bed, eyes pulling clarisse in by the throat as she sat beside you.

It was an awkward silence— at least on her behalf, valentine’s day was always an opportunity to seem unhappy. but as she sat with you, the tension in the room was chewing her skin and muscles off her bones.

the bed shifted for a second, and Clarisse looked over to you— your red eyes staring daggers into hers.

They were so beautiful, a blood like red— so many emotions swarming in them— so many things to represent who you truly where— they held passion, desire, sexuality, lust, danger, action, drama, joy, stress, radiance.

Clarisse could barely hold herself back as your smile encased her in a cage, trapping her, tormenting her— The cinnamon skinned girl was about to make a daring move- but you did first.

You slammed your lips to Clarisses, bed creaking slightly from the fast, sudden movement of your action— but clarisse waisted no time kissing you back. Your lips fell into sync together, dancing in a rhythm that was so perfect you wanted to melt into her.

Her hands landed on your hips, and yours in her soft curly hair— she shoved you down, back meeting the soft pink sheets of your bed, the sound of you two devouring each other the only sound in your room other than the faint valentines music bouncing through the walls.

You pulled her hair, a soft groan leaving the girls lips as she trailed her kisses down to your neck. You hummed, completely emersrd- the feeling of her lips on you was so sweet— you wanted to faint.

But you quickly realized that it wasn’t nearly as cute as you thought, as a sharp pain ate at your skin where she was feeling on your neck. You gasp, the warm feeling of blood barely falling from your neck. She’d bit you.

“clarisse-“ she silenced you with her own lips, the taste of your blood swarming between your mouth and hers, and you melted into the kiss once more.

the kiss was harsh, filled with desperation from both parties, hands touching every possible part of each others body as you lay on your bed.

You weren’t sure, but you guessed this was her way of asking you to be her valentine.

and being the daughter of Eros, there was no better way to ask.

388 notes · View notes

pinguwrites · 22 days

Text

Drabble: you can see Death's son

pairing | death junior x reader

Warnings: stalking, junior being a little obsessive but he's sweet and innocent, supernatural elements

A/N: Bro I just discovered this short film like yesterday and cranked out this small drabble. It's called At Death's Door (1999), where Cillian Murphy plays as some sort of grim reaper. He doesn't have a name in the film, so I made up Death Junior lol. That's his name now, okay?

No one was supposed to be able to see him. As the son of the Death, he was granted the gift of free passage, to travel between the realms of humans and spirits, unseen, like a gentle breeze in the wind. In the few years he had lived — albeit not many — he had come and gone, guiding souls to the beyond, and passing unnoticed by the living. It wasn’t until one fateful day near the end of Autumn did that change. It was the day you saw him; a girl, a mere mortal, whose eyes had somehow been blessed upon his image.

He stood, mouth slightly agape, pink lips chapped. He turned around, to see if you were looking at something else, but when he saw no one behind him, he knew without a doubt that it was him you were staring at. Beyond sight, he could feel it in his belly, a churning.

This is not right, he thought. This is not right.

You were at the other end of the trail. It was a park, bare trees stripped of their sunset colors, fallen to the ground all crunched and brown. Green grass spread till it reached the surrounding roads, but there was plenty of space in between, where people were eating at picnic benches or playing with their dogs. You had been going for a run, with sweat beading down your forehead and labored breathing, when you stopped for a break and glanced upon him.

You had given a quick smile, and the world stopped. Who were you? An angel, perhaps, come to steal him away. Or maybe a devil. He could not tell.

“Are you alright?”

Gentle sound, beautiful. It broke him out of his thoughts, and back to your eyes. You were now standing just a few feet away from him.

He didn’t say anything, his lips still parted. He was dressed in all black, collared shirt, dress pants, polished shoes, and a scythe — his father’s scythe, though he hoped to make his own one day. He must have stood out like a sore thumb amongst all these bubblegum shirts and ripped blue jeans and fanny packs and whatever these people had in fashion these days. It was always changing.

“I — do you need help? You look a little lost.”

Say something, he thought. He’d been around humans enough to understand how to speak to them, and his own family very much modeled a stereotypical Victorian bunch. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know how to, rather that he had a lump in his throat that prevented him from doing so.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, sir.”

He panicked. “No,” he blurted out, voice soft. He couldn’t let you leave. He just couldn’t. “What’s your name?”

You paused, then told him. In his mind, he repeated the word over and over again, like a religious mantra. He had always found names to be beautiful. They all meant different things and were attuned to culture and heritage. Even though there might be a million people sharing the same one, it was still yours. Like property.

“And you?”

He thought for a moment. He didn’t really have one. As much as he appreciated them, he had never thought of having his own. To him, a name was something he could not claim. Why should he even have one in the first place? He was always referred to as Son, and similarly, he referred to his parents as Mother and Father. That was enough, wasn’t it?

“I don’t . . . I don’t have one,” he said.

“Ah.” You nodded your head. “Shall I call you Reaper? Or Grim? You know, because of your costume? I like it, by the way. Most people have robes or chains, but this is simple, funeral-ish.”

Robes and chains. Oh, he hated the days when he had to wear those. They were so heavy on him, a personal punishment. The burden of the metal was the burden of his purpose, a constant reminder. And the hood, it always shrouded his line of vision. He was glad it wasn’t as popular as it was hundreds of years ago, otherwise he would be forced to wear it now.

“I’m not the Grim Reaper,” he clarified. “I’m his son.”

“I didn’t know he had one. So you’re Death Junior, then? I can call you that if you like it.”

Junior, he thought. June-e-er.

He nodded his head slowly. It wasn’t much of a name, more of a title.

“You live around here?”

He nodded again. It wasn’t the full truth, but if you were going to be here often then so would he.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you again. Have a nice day, Junior.”

You smiled, again, and picked up your pace, heading down the trail. Within a minute you were out of view, and he felt an odd feeling rise in his heart. This was not enough. He needed more. To at least just be in your presence.

He adjusted the grip on his scythe and followed after you. No one gave him so much as a look, which all the more validated his decision like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. But even if he was, he still found it okay. It was his curiosity, his innocence, that led him to your small apartment, maybe even a hint of longing, an ache.

For the entire night, he watched as you bathed, dressed, cooked, and finally, went to sleep, with the television on in the background. Apart from observing your essence of being, he wondered what it would be like to be there with you. To help you scrub yourself down with soap, take your clothes down to the laundry room and fold them, help you with dinner, feel your embrace in bed.

Junior, he thought again. Maybe it was like a name. A name you had given him. Maybe one day this Junior could be just like you. With you, with the girl who could see him.

Taglist: @shroombloom-rry @madnessandobsession @henrywintersdearestgirl @hllywdwhre @your-nanas-house @ellebelleshelby @meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

#death junior #death junior x you #death junior x y/n #death junior x reader #fanfiction #at death's door #pinguwrites

105 notes · View notes

cult-of-the-eye · 4 months

Note

have any really specific tma hcs you never shared?

Ooh let me think

I like to think Martin has a big extended family that live in a different country, I headcanon him as mixed polish and something else (maybe desi? Maybe white? Either way I love it)

I'm such a lonely person in a huge extended family x lonely person in tiny family shipper and I think that applies to jmart

Jon was absolutely a gifted kid I think

I think both Jon and Martin were let down by the education system in different ways, Martin because of his family circumstances and Jon because of his undiagnosed autism and gifted kid syndrome

I think Jon forgets to vote sometimes

Martin has worn the same outfit every single day to work before and felt weirdly soothed when Jon picked him up on it

Tim likes to tease Sasha by saying he doesn't believe in the moon

Jon is extremely gullible and will listen to pretty much anything you say if you say it in a certain way

(it's partly the autism and partly the fact that he's too exhausted to look any deeper into what people are saying to him)

(it's led to many shenanigans)

Martin has killed every plant he's ever owned

Sasha's favourite ice cream is double chocolate

Jon has always had imposter syndrome when it comes to his heritage and finds it hard to properly fit in but this cracks after he finds jurgen leitner and he just goes "...this is what happens when you work for an old white man...fucking white people"

Jon had read fanfic before

Martin has written fanfic before

The person Jon takes after most in terms of personality is his grandad

Basira is Bangladeshi and one time she just goes "ooff-o-re" and Jon immediately looks up and nods at her

(it's an exclamation of frustration)

Thanks for the ask!! I love a good excuse to think of headcanons

#i think basira and her relationship with her religion should be explored more #answered asks #tma headcanons #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #jmart #tim stoker #sasha james #basira hussain

154 notes · View notes

the-fluff-piece · 10 months

Note

Hello! For your event, I would like to request, please! Its a mix of the rules I guess? I got inspired by the prompts, hope that's ok!

Gifting Law a coin he did not have - sweet fluff.

Thank you!

Hello Anon,

It's always ok to get inspired by the prompts, that is a great request, I had a lot of fun with it ❤

This is part of the follower milestone event

If you like this story check out my masterlist

Here's

A coin for your thoughts

You use your alone time with Law to give him your newest find: a very rare coin with a rich history. His infodump can only be stopped with lots of kisses!

Sweet, fluffy, comforting

You found it in an antique shop - a rusty, small coin with peculiar pictures on it. One side showed a single lighthouse and a banner reading "mist island", the other showed various scientific tools engulfed by swirling tendrils of smoke - or mist?

As you looked at it the clerk gave you short information about the heritage of the coin, confirming your suspicion: the island, said to be situated in the new world, is shrouded in a mysterious mist that never lifts. Scientists from the world government tried to research it, a city was built, people moved there.

But after about 10 years, everyone on the island vanished without a trace. This coin was really, really rare. You employed all your skills to check for its authenticity, and went to great lengths to get it at a good price - eventually settling for a trade where you gave up a souvenir from your journeys in exchange.

With a big smile, you returned to the Polar Tang - what would Law say to it? Will he like it? Will he recognise it? His knowledge of the coins and their stories was vast, surely he knew more about it than the clerk.

You waited all day until it was time to retire to your shared room. Law sat down on his desk to "just read a little bit more" as he promised, but he wouldn't get the chance. You had cleaned and polished the coin until it looked brand new and the copper and silver alloy showed its beautiful colours.

Standing behind him, you looked over his shoulder - anatomy. He read the same books again and again and never got sick of them. You watched him trace the line of a muscle on the page with his finger, letting him finish following the inked picture to its end. When he was done, he looked behind and smiled at you, just breathing your name as he always did to tell you he was now there for you.

Without a word, you slipped the small trinket onto the page and prepared for his reaction. His blue eyes widened and his whole face changed to that of a little boy who just got the present of his life. He created a small frame with his thumb and index finger to hold the small coin to the light of his desk lamp.

"Mist island!" His voice was not the deep and sensual velvet you were used to. Instead, he sounded more boyish, his voice a higher pitch and with a vivid inflection of happiness.

Turning around the silvery object in his long, nimble fingers, he watched the light play around the edged lines, his thumb regularly brushing over the surface to feel the smoothness of the coin and follow the small pictures on it. He spent a long time studying the swirling mist, doubtlessly feeling every detail with his sensitive finger tips.

His mouth stood open in a silent smile as you watched him lovingly, seeing how much joy your gift brought him.

"Ah!" A short noise escaped him. "An impurity!" He pointed to the smallest imperfection in the material.

"You know this happens when the temperature changes to fast in production" he explained to you for what must the millionth time. But you didn't mind, he just loved talking about alloys and metal production. It was heralding the spill of information that was to follow.

Law pushed the chair back from the desk and collected you onto his lap, putting his arms around you so that you two were looking at the coin together. He rested his chin on your shoulder and pressed his cheek to your face. His beard tickled you as he spoke:

"The island was a scientific research centre to lift the mystery of the mist!" He explained close to your ear in his best nerd-voice, leaving a second to chuckle at his expert joke. He held up the side of the coin with the curling mist.

"Because the mist never lifted, it never even got thinner, the island was shrouded in darkness all day, all year. It was unusually thick. The lighthouse" - he turned the coin around - "was the strongest the marine ever built, but it could hardly penetrate the thick soup. Many ships broke on the perilous coast. The great marine scientist Prof Voltan tried to get to the bottom of it all and he vanished alongside his crew of scientists and all the inhabitants of the island in one night. The speculations are outlandish!" He laughed.

"There were even rumours about pre-existing structures on the island, full of unknown symbols and pictures..." his voice trailed off.

"But that's all nonsense!" He concluded, although he couldn't hide a bit of excitement in his voice. He was so adorable when he nerded about his interests. You couldn't help but to kiss his cheek and he smiled, but he didn't stop talking.

"You know they used a special tool to catch and analyse the mist" he explained, not letting your kisses down his jaw distract him. You turned around on his lap to straddle him and reach his kissable areas more easily.

He continued his lesson: "they called it the nebuloscope! It sucked in the mist" your mouth made a sucking sound as you worked on the soft skin of his neck " and the great problem was to build a container from where it couldn't..." he couldn't end the sentence, since you nibbled at the soft patch of skin on his neck that made him loose his mind without fail.

"It couldn't...i mean the couldn't...it wasnt...", he tried to continue a few more times but failed, his speech slurred into a pant.

"Babe stop that..." he panted as you mercilessly held his skin between your lips. However, you were in a good mood and stopped, for him.

He exhaled and shifted beneath you, as his little nerd brain whipped him to tell you even more of the island mystery: "the coin itself is made from ore found on the island, it's not exactly common silver and copper." You let him explain for a short while before kissing trails down his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt.

He leaned back with his brows creased and a whimper, and continued to dump all the info in his head onto you.

"The ore...had strange properties...marine...tried to harvest it...but..." the small movements you made with your hips seemed to steal the blood from his head and you opened his shirt to marvel at your boyfriend's chest. His eyes were pressed close as he struggled for control. He knew he would eventually lose but he held on bravely. He was just trying to get into iron smelting as you pressed soft kisses to his mouth, stopping the flow of words gently.

He put the coin on his desk and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to carry you to the bed. As he laid you down and came to rest next to you, he began to repay the favour, nibbling on you ear.

"Thank you babe, I love you" he whispered into your ear and stopped talking for the night as he cuddled you happily. The rest of his speech would come tomorrow at breakfast .

__________

This one was really fun and inspiring to me. Maybe Law and y/n will find a misty island one day and have a spooky mystery adventure?

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x y/n #law is a nerd #law loves coins #odp follower event #the fluff piece

294 notes · View notes

localmajortom · 1 year

Text

Top gun ‘86 headcanons:

Ice’s family is polish which is why his full name is ✨Thomas Aleksander Kazansky✨

Slider’s family is German cause how could they not be with the last name ✨Kerner✨

(I am an expert in this because I am German thank you very much)

Also his full name is ✨Ronald Wilhelm Kerner✨

But to make matters worse his name is actually Roland and he hates it with a passion

Everyone deserves a weird, old fashioned and outdated middle name related to their heritage. Why? Because I say so

One time Ice visits his family in Poland and comes back with an Adidas tracksuit that might or might not be legitimate

Proceeds to wear it every day which comes as a shock to everyone around him

Proceeds to Slav squat all the time and pull a muscle while doing it

“Mav! Mav! You gotta come and help me up!”

Meanwhile slider: “You came back with a whole new personality and all I got is a recipe for pumpernickel”

He fails at making said pumpernickel

He says he’ll use it to drown maverick at the next inconvenience

@eliodeangelis

You can find part 2 here

Masterlist

#tom kazansky #pete mitchell #ron kerner #iceman #maverick #slider #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #ron slider kerner #top gun headcanons #top gun #icemav

1K notes · View notes

meichenxi · 1 year

Text

Speakers of non-English languages of the UK and Ireland wanted!!

Since it’s World Mother Language Day today (February the 21st), I’m thinking of doing a series of posts on the native non-English languages of the United Kingdom and Ireland, with some information and short interviews.

For this, I am looking for both native speakers/signers and learners (with or without parentage/heritage of the language in question) of the following languages:

- Scottish Gaelic

- Irish

- Welsh

- Any sign language of the United Kingdom or Ireland (e.g. BSL)

- Any other minority language indigenous to the United Kingdom or Ireland. By this I mean primarily spoken only within the UK or Ireland as a minority, or spoken very little elsewhere. For example: Cornish, Manx, Shelta, or Anglo-Romani, not languages like Polish or Bengali that are minority within the UK but have a significant speaker base elsewhere. (I am aware that I am fishing for some of these *cough* Cornish *cough*...but you never know!)

- Any language or variety that you speak that you feel is linguistically / culturally distinct from Standard English that you would like to inform more people about. For example: Shetlandic, Scots, Ulster Scots.

I don’t have anything finalised yet, but if you would be wiling to speak to me about some text-based interviews for the sake of qualitative and informative tumblr posts, please send me a message!

(NB: if I have used any names of languages that are not preferred, tell me and I will change them. I don’t know a lot about the non-Celtic and non-Germanic languages here, which is part of my reason for wanting to make this series of posts in the first place.)

Please reblog so more people see this!

- meichenxi

#irish #welsh #scottish gaelic #gaelic #bsl #world mother language day #please reblog <3 #every single time I tell anyone (brits included) about the variety of languages that exist natively in the UK and Ireland I die a little #<< that is a joke and I enjoy informing others but also. there's more than english please #cornish and breton and manx....look. if ANYONE on the internet is learning those languages as a second language learner #they are on Tumblr. this I know to be true #*manifesting*#cornish is on my list of celtic languages to learn in the future. but first gaelic. and then welsh since my family is moving there #and THEN perhaps cornish. *meme voice* I just think it's neat!#I also like the challenge of being at the forefront of a revival moment that is almost entirely made up of nerds (affectionate)

455 notes · View notes

taylorswiftstyle · 4 months

Text

At Arrowhead Stadium | Kansas City, MO | December 10, 2023

Gant '240 Mulberry Street Tailored Coat' - $1,700.00

I mentioned this previously when Taylor last wore a Gant menswear piece (the killa hard launch - if you will) but I knew as soon as I saw those boxy shoulders that this was another mens piece by Taylor's most recent favourite outerwear brand. And it's such a smart choice indeed, one that underlines the Americana athleticism of the situation at hand but puts an exclamative "The Man" reminder at the end by opting for a piece from the mens line.

Gant's 240 Mulberry Street collection is an additional, premium capsule extension of the existing Gant brand - a line meant to honour Gant's "heritage as pioneers of American Sportswear by taking preppy classics and evolving them into new silhouettes made from the finest fabrics." See what I said about the perfect fit? Even if the actual fit is intentionally oversized and boxy - another continuing theme for Taylor to unabashedly and confidently take up space as her game day fashion evolves to include bigger silhouettes (thanks to colder weather necessitating wool coats), polished blowouts, and taller heels.

Worn with: Westside Storey vintage sweatshirt, Mazin Jewels + Mejuri rings, Khaite skirt, and Larroude boots

Photo by Nick Wagner for the Kansas City Star

#taylor swift #candid #outerwear #gant #december 2023 #kc chiefs

143 notes · View notes

theophan-o · 9 days

Text

Today “Dom Bohuna / Дім Богуна” celebrates its 4th anniversary

Perhaps, it is a proper moment for some summing-up reflections. I admit that I have created this blog 15.04.2020 only for fun. It was during the COVID-pandemic times, I was closed at home, recovering from a long illness. In such circumstances, some people return to their childhood fairy-tales. So I have returned to Bohun and “Ogniem i mieczem”. I was searching on the Internet for all possible groups of H. Sienkiewicz’s “Trilogy” fans, just to make friends with them, and I have found such a group here, on Tumblr and at the same time – some breathtakingly beautiful English stories about Helena, Jurko & Jan on AO3. For me, as a non-heterosexual person, their greatest value (for which I will be eternally grateful to their Authors!) was adding to my beloved “Trilogy” universe the motif of same-sex love and relationship. I wanted to contribute to it, so I have created my own Tumblr blog and an account on AO3, where I have published some from my own stories.

To be honest, the encounter with the Western “Ogniem i mieczem” fandom, seeing, how some people there perceive “Trilogy” characters, was a VERY shocking experience for me. One of these events, that are leaving you for years with a question circulating in your mind: “WHY??? What is wrong with this content, that people react to it (and to you, its admirer) in SUCH a way?” It is obvious, that H. Sienkiewicz’ “Trilogy”, created in the 19th century and telling about the historical events in the Eastern Europe from the mid-17th century, for contemporary readers can be in many aspects at least problematic (or difficult to accept). In general, it shouldn’t be, it can’t be taken uncritically now. But on the other side, it is not something worthless. Or “dirty”. Its characters (in their majority based on the real people from the past) can commit deeds viewed now as crimes, but they are still HUMANS. What is more, H. Sienkiewicz’ “Trilogy” is part of many people’s cultural heritage, entangled with countless events, heroes, myths, motifs from the Polish history (and in its first part, “Ogniem i mieczem” – also from the Ukrainian history). It is a part of MY OWN heritage and history. And I have felt uncomfortable with a thought, that in such an international community with a world-wide scope like Tumblr, someone, not having any basic knowledge about my culture/s, can think that this heritage is a “sluttish trash”. It is a reason why my blog has become “Dom Bohuna”, “Bohun’s Home”. I believe that the best way to solve such misunderstandings is spreading Knowledge and telling the Truth, so I try to show Bohun in his “natural environment”, on the one side: within H. Sienkiewicz’s “Trilogy” universe (with diverse masterpieces from the Polish culture related to it), on the other: within the Ukrainian tradition of Cossack Heroes (with various treasures of the Ukrainian culture related to it), with the Polish Romantic Cossack myth somewhere between them. I know that for a Western eye, they are all rather “distant islands”, but many parts of them are really worthy to have a closer look.

The next turning point was the February 2022. Here, no further explanation is required, I think. It was a time, when the whole our World has changed unimaginably and abruptly. And in these new circumstances, I realized one day, that I had a blog thematically related not only to the Polish literature/culture, but above all – to the Ukrainian Cossack Hero. I am deeply grateful to all my Ukrainian and Polish Friends for encouraging me to put here more content about the real Bohun and the history of the Cossack State (Hetmanate). You have given me courage. Because I hesitated, for two reasons. First: I know that I don’t have such in-depth knowledge about the Ukrainian culture, I have about the Polish one (so I can always make some hurtful mistakes). Second: I think that my blog, created for fun/fandom reasons, is not an entirely proper place for such an important content. But after all: it is a place, where one can just talk about the Ukrainian cultural heritage and turn some people's attention to it. That is why I try, as much as my limited skills and knowledge let me, to sing here about the Ukrainian Cossacks Glory. Just as Bohun himself used to do a long time ago.

#theophan-o talks #trylogia #ogniem i mieczem #with fire and sword #trylogia sienkiewicza #trylogia sensem życia #ukrainian culture #polish culture

48 notes · View notes