#the chickens are a common occurence here

[choppedcowboydinosaur]

Here’s a meme about my home town of Kaneohe.

#kaneohe #personal #meme #hawaii #chickens #seriously we have lots of chickens #and ive been to that parking lot plenty of times #its where the grocery store is #windward side #represent #the chickens are a common occurence here

[ms-demeanor]

Hey, if you have the time, would you be willing to help me understand whether msg is harmful or not? I'm seeing a lot of conflicting information when I try to look it up, though I understand that a lot of the basis of the (us) hate for it is just racism. In particular this paper worries me and I don't feel that I have the tools to parse it well- https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5938543/&sa=U&ved=2ahUKEwjyoJ_3-bqBAxXRF1kFHeF1DPMQFnoECA0QBg&usg=AOvVaw0i4ZlJU2xakrpbz-DMFx24

Okay, we're going to play chase the reference with a few of the links in this paper.

the [3] link there (which makes the claim that MSG reactions occur 20 minutes after consumption) leads to this paper, which is a case study of a single patient who had swelling in his throat after eating at a Chinese restaurant. That paper has only 7 citations, 4 of which were at least 30 years old (and one was 50 years old) at the time of publication.

Let's dial in to something interesting in that case study:

First of all, the case study that proved symptoms come on in 20 minutes was for a case when symptoms came on after more than eight hours. Secondly let's look at that last sentence - those two papers found that MSG consumption without solids (as in soups) was associated with more reported symptoms, right?

Well. Not completely. Obayashi and Nagamura's review found that the studies in which increased reports of symptoms were present were the ones in which it was possible to taste the difference between MSG and the control, OR in studies where the flavor of even the control was so strong that people might have thought they were being given MSG. The studies in which the MSG was dissolved in chicken stock found no significant difference between groups consuming MSG or a control.

And the other review cited there [7] did note more symptoms reported without solid food, but also noted that those results weren't reproducible.

So the root paper links to a case study that doesn't actually support the sentence it's cited in and that itself cites two papers as evidence that draw different conclusions than the authors of the case study.

That's one source chased. Let's chase another. The misused paper from the case study also shows up in the root paper.

the claim "75 mg/kg MSG significantly elevated systolic blood pressure" is supported by two whole citations. Let's see what they say. Obayashi and Nagamura are pretty clear:

That's the only observation of blood pressure listed in that paper.

What about Shimada et al.?

well, that actually wasn't what they were looking at, there were confounding factors, and the dose that produced the described results is twice what was listed in the root paper.

and actually the 75mg/kg dose in the root paper is mentioned in citation [5] in this paper and whoops, the low (75mg/kg) dose was *not* associated with increases in blood pressure:

Also. I mean. Jeeze. For an adult weighing 200lbs, 75mg/kg is 6 grams.

What did the root paper say they thought the average daily intake was?

so 75mg/kg is six times higher than the high end of an estimated average and is not enough to cause a statistically significant increase in blood pressure. Cool cool cool.

I've looked at this paper long enough now to get really mad at it.

Paragraph by paragraph, here's what this paper says:

MSG: what if it's poison?

According to multiple studies of rodents in which MSG was injected subcutaneously in juvenile animals MSG might cause obesity or neurological symptoms similar to traumatic brain injury. If humans were to get doses similar to infant mice being subcutaneously injected with MSG as toddlers it could be catastrophic.

This one guy even got a swollen throat from MSG eight hours after eating some soup once and some people who study headaches says it's more common to have bad reactions to msg in soup and he ate soup please ignore that actually the headache people weren't saying reports were more common from people eating soup.

Both animal studies with extremely high doses of MSG and a human study with broken links that doesn't appear on the publisher's website anymore suggest that MSG could do reproductive harm or at least make cramps worse possibly.

The way that people have discussed asthma and MSG in the past is really extreme and super negative but actually there's never been a connection proven there.

And actually it seems like maybe MSG prevents anemia? Neat? Possibly. ANYWAY:

what harmful effects??? You have not successfully described any harmful effects!!!!

this kind of thing shows up all the fuck over the place, look at this bit from a totally different paper:

that cites one nearly 40 year old study, two studies that are nearly 30 years old, two rodent studies, and:

and a literature review that does not reflect those findings and calls for further research because there is poor evidence for those claims.

I'm so mad.

I'm not mad at you, I'm mad that the root article frontloaded with a bunch of complicated neurological stuff that is difficult for anyone without a neuroscience background to parse (i sure can't) and then left the bullshit and misused citations for later in the paper. I'm mad that half of the articles cited in every one of these papers is skeptical of MSG as a risk or a threat and those skeptical papers are being linked to as evidence of MSG as a threat. I'm mad that this stuff is inaccessible and confusing because it doesn't need to be confusing i don't know why these people who work at universities and hospitals are writing these kinds of bullshit papers, I don't know why if you look for information about the safety of msg you get webMD "medically verified" articles that tell you to avoid tomato sauce. I hate all of this and I'm so mad and it's bullshit but here is a very long writeup on why the methodology of a lot of the studies cited in the article you linked are not ideal; this piece goes over a lot of the supposed harms of MSG with a fine toothed comb and generally finds that food amounts of MSG are likely fine and that it's probably worthwhile to do some research on MSG as it relates to fetal development but that it should pretty much be considered safe.

[cripplecharacters]

In general, how would you approach writing nonhuman/feral characters with disabilities? How would you balance the symptoms animals usually show vs human symptoms, experiences and available accomodations?

I'm considering giving my Warrior Cats character with TBI-induced blindness (yes, I know, these books are awful about disability rep and yet I can't help but get attached) a guide animal of some sort, but... in real life blind cats can get by just fine using their whiskers, and though realism isn't a concern here, I'm worried that'll come across as nonsensical. However, I'm personally uncomfortable with writing yet another blind character that doesn't need mobility aids despite not being able to distinguish objects from one another "properly". He may not be totally blind, but I feel like I'd be contributing to the misconceptions surrounding my own condition that way. Thoughts?

Thank you for your ask! In real life animals, including cats, have been known to assign themselves as a guide for a blind packmate, usually walking on the side with less vision to help with navigation. Sometimes an animal of another species will act as a guide, but only if they’re bonded. This also occurs more often in domesticated animals, so if you don’t want the guide to be another cat you could do something like a dog, chicken or rat (though I’d imagine the last two would be hard to keep in a cat pack!).

You could also have your character able to move around unassisted in familiar areas that he is often in, but need assistance in unfamiliar areas.

As for writing your character, I’d say research how his injury affects his other senses. Touch, smell, hearing and limb movement can be affected by a traumatic brain injury, and it would definitely affect your character's ability to get around.

As of now, this blog unfortunately doesn’t have any blind mods (applications are still open as of posting this). However, you can check out other blogs for more information on blindness, such as BlindBeta, AskABlindPerson, and Mimzy-Writing-Online.

Have a lovely day!

Mod Rot

Hi!

When talking about TBI induced blindness, you have to keep in mind that it's different from ocular blindness. The brain-based type of blindness is called CVI, or Cortical Visual Impairment, and it's very common!

(Note: I have done a lot of research on CVI, but I don't have it myself. I heavily encourage you to check the blogs that Rot mentioned!)

A CVI will often have different symptoms than ocular blindness. For example, the character's field of view could be severely limited - the left (or right, or top, or bottom...) half of their vision could be non-existent, and the other half could be what is sometimes described as "incomprehensible". It could also present in infinitely different ways from that, as it can be very diverse!

CVI is often fluid and the person (or cat) can function very differently depending on the circumstances like fatigue or stress or even the weather. If he's having a horrible day he will be able to understand the visual input less than when he's doing fantastic.

With CVI, it's important to remember that visual acuity generally won't be the main problem, but the brain's comprehension of the image is. This is where cat-available accommodations can hopefully come in.

Showing him experiencing visual fatigue and how he deals with it could be one of them! During his kitty activities he could prefer to have them spaced out so that he only sees one at a time and makes it easier for his brain to comprehend without tiring him out. A cluttered environment would probably only make it worse, so you can have him make sure that everything is nice and in its place. He could also take longer to recognize new objects or cats.

If he has, for example, very limited field of vision, then he could have his kitty house (I don't know how warrior cats work I'm trying my best here) arranged so that it would work for him; i.e. everything being on a specific height.

I also very much agree with Rot that he should have more symptoms than just blindness! One example of a brain-based cat disability could be cerebellar hypoplasia; it can't be caused by a TBI, but it causes ataxia which can be a result of a TBI (mildly complicated, sorry). Either way you can use it as a reference to visualize how your character could move!

I hope this helps! I really appreciate the effort of trying to include disability accommodations in a character who's a forest cat.

mod Sasza

#mod Rot #mod sasza #blindness #brain damage representation #fantasy species #<- i know cats are real but IDK i think it fits there. four legged fantasy species and all

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for letting my german shepherd out in the garden when a neighbour was stealing the eggs of my chickens last night causing my neighbour to get bit?

Okay, so I live basically in walking distance to a large city in western Europe, not saying which one but it's densely populated and chickens aren't super common here. Also, my garden which is not large maybe 7mx4m, is fenced, 2 meter high wooden fence with no holes. There is also a sign warning intruders about the dogs (one is ancient and the other is tiny so honestly only one can do real harm).

Lately eggs from my chicken coop have gone missing, as in I have 4 laying hens and I sometimes get only one egg a week, and my dogs have been alerting me sometimes but whenever I went to check (keeping the dogs inside, sometimes it's a hedgehog and I don't want my dogs to hurt wildlife) I found nothing. (sidenote, there is no lock on the coop besides a slide lock but I will change that in the future)

So I set a trap of sorts, wire with bells. Last night the bells rang and I decided to go out with a butcher knife (was not going to use it but you never know who is on your property, not even sure if I would have been able to use it if push came to shove actually. Was mostly to have something intimidating in my hands I guess) and my shepherd for support. Turns out it was a neighbour of mine and he started yelling and threatening me. Which is when my dog went for his leg. I recalled him and he got back to me but I could see he got him good. I'm of the opinion the man was trespassing and threatening me on my own ground but other people are saying I went to far for taking my guard dog with me knowing a bite might occur and should have called the police instead. I know the neighbour needed stitches but since there have been no charges I think I'm in the clear. I do feel bad about how hard he was bitten though, I've been bitten several times by large dogs and it's very painful.

I would like to know if those people have a point and maybe see another perspective than mine. Or if people agree with me.

Sad things is, if the neighbour would have asked for eggs I would probably have given him a box. I often give some to neighbours.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[theyuniversity]

🤬 Expletives Are No F*@king Joke

In this short lesson, we’ll be talking about expletives—but NOT the kind that means ‘profanities’ or ‘swear words.’

👨🏻‍🎓 In grammar, expletives are sometimes called “dummy pronouns.” They occur in clauses beginning with “it” or “there” when the “it” or “there” does not refer to anything. Although very few people we know are familiar with the term in the grammatical context, they are extremely common; we bet you used dozens of sentences today that began with expletives.

For example, the following sentences start with expletives:

It is vital that you arrive to the concert on time.

There were several raucous students at the football game.

😌 Fortunately, the rules for expletives are straightforward:

When “it” is an expletive, it always takes a singular verb.

It is finally time to go home! 🏃🏻‍♀️💨💨

It is amusing that children still believe in the Tooth Fairy. 🦷🧚🏻‍♀️

It was an exhausting undertaking to organize my parents’ garage.

When “there” is an expletive, the number of the verb is determined by the number of the noun phrase that follows:

There is a place we all call “home.” 🏡👪

There were hundreds of fans in line for autographs. 😍📝

There was an error in your calculations. 🧮

There were six spelling mistakes on your handwritten essay.

Give the following questions a try:

The meteorologist claims that it ( is | are ) going to snow this weekend in Los Angeles. ☃

When we looked at the expansive menu, we learned that there ( is | are ) more than 22 different types of fried chicken. 🍗

The college tour guide candidly admitted that there really ( isn’t | aren’t ) much to do on campus during the winter holiday. 🏫👻

Last year, there ( was | were ) a surprising increase in the number of students applying to small liberal arts colleges in Alaska.

According to Nan, it ( is | are ) painfully obvious and understandable that there ( has | have ) been more accidents on the busy street leading to the new shopping mall. 🚗💥🚙

💁🏻‍♂️ Here are the answers:

is

are

isn’t

was

is, have

Website | Twitter |  Instagram | Medium | Pinterest | Ko-fi | eBook

#grammar #expletives #English #English class #learning English #writing #ESL #EFL #ELA #ELT

[definitelynotshouting]

so lets talk hunger au code structure

It occurred to me that i havent spoken a whole lot about the layers of code structure for entities!! I've mentioned surface code quite a bit, and deeper code, but i never actually got into what that deeper code entails-- so here's a little breakdown of what each code layer looks like and does!!

Surface code: This is the outer code layer, wrapping around everything in a similar way to how your skin covers your body. Surface code is, as previously stated in other asks, what dictates an entity's physical appearance. It's fairly easy to change once you learn the coding for it. This is the reason why physical hybrid traits can exist for Players, and why Watchers can camouflage themselves so well.

Utility code: This is the inner layer directly below surface code. Utility code is responsible for managing hearts, hunger, and saturation, and it's tied pretty directly to surface code. If your hunger bar or hearts are low, then that's going to reflect in your surface code-- and it's also going to effect how much of your surface code you can change at one time. Changing surface code takes energy, so entities who are changing their appearance often get hungry. It's common for a spotter to bring snacks!

Memory code: This is the code layer located beneath utility code, and is responsible for maintaining personality, memories, and keeping track of stats. Memory code is essentially what makes you a fully realized person!! Memory code can also be copied by entities (aka Watchers) that are very adept at manipulating code. In theory, a skilled Player could potentially do the same, but it's a very complex and tricky task to complete, so most people wouldn't consider attempting it.

Structural/deep code: As the innermost code layer, this code dictates whether an entity is alive and sentient/sapient or not. This is the code that essentially separates a Player from, say, a tree, and also keeps the other code layers functioning on a base level. It's the last layer of code to dissolve when code structure fully destabilizes.

And thats your little crash course in hunger au code structure!!! Pretty much every entity classified as alive has all of these code layers, although a chicken's memory code and a Player's memory code is going to look very different from each other. And, of course, non-sentient objects aren't going to have a utility or memory code, since they're, yknow, non-sentient. But their surface code can still be changed by a skilled coder, which is why some worlds are considered modded instead of vanilla!!

#shouting speaks #worldbuilding #mcyt #hermitcraft #hunger au #code structure #ddjwbdjdj im trying to make more posts abt hunger au that arent just ppl's asks WHEEEEZE #and honestly i love the code structure SO MUCH its so fun to me #like playing with legos.... #also gods the nb dream. imagine being able to just change your physical appearance. society if it functioned by hunger au rules 🏞️ #txt

[pippytmi]

wrote prompt # 9 from this prompt list for wildmoore: “There is actually no downside to acting like we would be dating.”/ “Yes, except the part where people would think I was dating you.”

_______

“Ryan, I need you to hear me out, and don’t say no until I explain.”

It is as enthusiastic a hello as any, and Ryan doesn’t question it; when it comes to her best friend and her antics (the chicken incident of last Christmas immediately comes to mind), Ryan has learned to pick her battles. “Hi, Mary,” she says, and patiently shuts her front door as Mary walks right in. “It’s nice to see you too.”

By the time Ryan has locked and bolted her door, Mary has already begun to mix white wine and orange juice into two mugs. This is not the first time Mary has tried to ply Ryan with alcohol to get her to do something really, really stupid (again, chicken thing), and Ryan wordlessly takes a seat at the island and doesn’t bother hiding her judgment.

“Okay, this must be serious,” Ryan says eventually, as Mary hands her a drink with one hand and then downs her own with the other. “I’m afraid to ask now.”

“First you have to promise you won’t interrupt me until I finish,” Mary says. “Deal?”

“Sure, fine,” Ryan agrees, and she even takes a sip out of her mug as a show of good faith. It’s absolutely abysmal given the fact that she’s just brushed her teeth, and she quickly sets it down.

Mary takes a deep breath and straightens. “I need a favor,” she says. “Or actually, Sophie needs—”

“Oh hell no.”

“Ryan!” Mary gives her a half-pout, half-frown. “You said you wouldn’t interrupt!”

“Well you didn’t mention it would involve Sophie Moore.” Taste be damned, Ryan does need alcohol for this conversation, so she says fuck it and grabs her poor man’s mimosa again. “Whatever she wants from me, tell her to forget about it.”

“Technically,” Mary says, raising a finger in the air, “she doesn’t know I’m asking you. So you can rest assured your little arch-nemesis-rivalry or whatever is still intact. And if you would let me finish, I could actually tell you the situation we’re in.”

“You mean the situation she’s in,” Ryan corrects, and Mary levels her with a stare that Ryan has come to recognize as a wordless bitch, please. “Mary, you know I love you, and I overlook your fraternization with the she-devil—”

“Oh my God, you two are so dramatic,” Mary says. “Can I speak now, or are you going to keep rehashing pointless lesbian drama? Because I’ve aged two years trying to explain that all Sophie needs is a date.”

Ryan just about chokes on her wine.

Mary ignores her spluttering and continues, “Look, Sophie called me because she was invited to her ex’s wedding, and she desperately needs a date. I mean, it’s common practice right? If you go to your ex’s wedding, you need to show up with a hot date on your arm. And normally I would’ve done it, but it just so happens that it’s my sister’s wedding…” 

“Your sister?” Ryan feels like this conversation is occurring underwater all of a sudden. “Alice, or Kate?”

“Kate, obviously,” Mary says. “Alice isn’t gay. Well, maybe a little bit, no one knows what to make of the Safiyah thing.” She visibly pauses, and then grimaces. “So not something I want to remember. The point is, Sophie already told Kate she was bringing a plus one before she found out that Kate was my sister.”

“So she lied. I don’t see why you’re over here asking me to—I don’t even know what you’re asking me to do.”

“I’m asking you to be Sophie’s wedding date,” Mary says. “But not for real, since you two are clearly too stubborn to talk to each other.”

“Hold on, what is there to talk about?” Really, at this point it’s the principle of the thing to hate Sophie Moore, who is stuck-up and standoffish and just a general stick-in-the-mud. Ryan can't be faulted for wanting nothing to do with her.

“Don't get all defensive.” But Mary laughs when she says it, and she holds out the wine bottle like it's a peace offering. “Just think about it, okay? Imagine if it was Angelique getting married and Sophie was your only option for a date. She'd do it for you.”

“No she wouldn't,” Ryan counters, but she needs no deliberation in order to accept a swig from the bottle. “And how do you know I'm her only option?”

“Because Sophie told me she's planning on skipping the wedding since she can't find another date!” Mary cries, and she’s clearly distraught at the very idea; she's worrying her bottom lip insistently, a habit Ryan knows she's trying to break. “Come on, Ryan, please? If not for Sophie, then for me. I really think Kate will be sad if Sophie doesn't go, they're in such a good place now.”

“You’re going to pull the do-it-for-me card now?”

“Yes,” says Mary without a lick of shame. “And as your best friend, you're contractually obligated to do anything for me.”

“Even if I said I'd do this,” Ryan starts, and when Mary squeals in excitement, Ryan stresses again, “Even then, Mary, Sophie won’t agree. She hates me as much as I hate her.”

“Just leave that part to me,” Mary says with all the cadence of an evil mastermind, which means it’s probably time to cut her off from the alcohol.

Thankfully they change the subject to whatever Mary is planning on wearing for said wedding, and Ryan is relieved; if this actually were a serious proposal, she is sure the world would have been ending.

.

.

.

The first time Ryan met Sophie Moore, it had been as ordinary a night as any other.

In a way it was reminiscent of the first time Ryan met Mary; Kate Kane would occasionally DJ at the bar, and Ryan met Mary on the first night she’d come in to support her sister.  Like Mary, Sophie had shown up to watch Kate DJ. Unlike Mary, Sophie had been a total asshole all night. She’d ignored all of Ryan’s attempts at small talk (which was a thing Ryan did with everyone in the interest of tips, it was not flirting, no matter how Mary described it). Then when Sophie’s sister Jordan told her to “flirt back with the cute bartender” (which Ryan still objects to every time she thinks about it), Sophie—who was in earshot of Ryan—replied that Ryan wasn’t her type.

And honestly, Ryan could’ve overlooked all of that. She could have! Sophie Moore had no obligation to find Ryan attractive, or even be polite when Ryan served her, so long as she paid her bill and didn’t cause trouble. But at the end of the night Sophie—still in earshot—had remarked to Jordan that the drinks were subpar, and Ryan was pissed. This went beyond poor consumerism; it was just plain rude! And clearly, Sophie had intended for Ryan to hear it, so it just went to show that Sophie Moore was a snob.

Which is why when Mary comes sweeping into the bar and announces, “Guess what, Ryan—you have a date Saturday night,” Ryan almost drops the glass she’s cleaning.

“Oh no no no,” Ryan hastily interjects, setting the glass aside before she uses it as a weapon. “Do not tell me you actually told Sophie I’d do it.”

“You’re doing your best friend a favor and I love you,” Mary says without a hint of remorse, and she completely ignores Ryan’s slack-jawed response, just happily takes a seat at the bar and lifts a menu as if she doesn’t already have it memorized. “Hey, can you bring me some mozzarella sticks?”

“We’re not open,” Ryan says, snatching said menu back. “Mary. Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you?” Mary squints at her for a second. “I’m sorry, did you or did you not say you’d do it if Sophie agreed?”

“I said Sophie wouldn’t agree, even if I said I would.”

“Well she did agree, and I said you would, so…” Mary looks far too expectant for a dead woman walking. “I think it’s time you two buried the hatchet anyway. This isn’t Family Feud, you know. I feel like the child of a divorce sometimes.”

“You’ve never watched Family Feud in your life, have you?” Ryan shakes her head. “You know what, forget it. I just can’t believe you right now.”

Mary gasps. “You listened to me explain! Are you seriously acting like I’m springing this on you?”

“You made me listen to you!”

“Okay, I feel like you’re missing the point here, Ryan.” Mary says, “Which is why I am trying to promote healthy forgiveness.”

Ryan narrows her eyes. “Did you rehearse that?”

“Forgive me for caring about two of my friends finding mutual respect,” Mary says dramatically. “I guess I’ll just tell Sophie that you flaked, and that she’s going to have to return the dress she bought, and my dad will be devastated because he loves Sophie more than all of us combined…”

“You’re seriously trying to guilt-trip me now?” Ryan groans, and she stares longingly at the bottles on the shelf that she can’t consume. “Fine. Fine! If this really means so much to you, I’ll pretend to tolerate Sophie. But you’re going to have to lend me something to wear, because your family’s too rich to be around.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Mary beams, throwing her arms over the counter to drag Ryan into an uncomfortable half-hug. “And did I mention there’s an open bar?”

“Well damn, you could’ve led with that,” Ryan says, and Mary swats her with a newly-stolen menu.

“So does this mean you’ll get me mozzarella sticks now?”

“No, Mary, we are still closed.”

.

.

.

What does one wear to a date with the devil?

Ryan ponders this once, then twice, and ultimately goes with the black dress stashed in the very back of her closet that she bought for a funeral she never attended. It’s not fancy—modest enough to wear in a church if that was her thing—which suits her just fine. The last thing she wants is Sophie getting the impression she’s trying to dress up for her, or anything.

She is pairing her casual outfit with some silver hoops when her phone rings. It’s Mary, for the hundredth time today. For as desperate as Mary made Sophie sound, Sophie hasn’t made an actual effort to make sure Ryan was coming; no, that honor is apparently all Mary’s.

“Hi, Mary,” Ryan says, putting her on speaker so she can toss her phone to the side. “What’s up?”

“Hey! I just wanted to call and make sure you’re not escaping out a window right now.”

Ryan has to bite back a scoff. “I'm not a fucking runaway bride,” she says. “Wait. Unless this is all some sick, twisted way to get me married to Sophie Moore and you're lying about your sister's wedding.”

“God, you're the most dramatic person I know.” There is rustling on the other end, like Mary is shuffling through paper. “This is why I did not rule out jumping five stories to get out of this.”

“That’s a very tempting offer now that you mention it.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be insufferable all night, aren’t you?” More rustling. “Okay I did actually have a reason to call you this time. I sent a car over to your house—the driver said he’d get there in fifteen minutes. You guys will stop to pick up Sophie on the way.”

“How romantic,” Ryan quips. “Just me, Sophie, and our Uber driver.”

“Come on, I had to make sure you didn’t kill each other before the wedding even started,” Mary says. “Just be nice to the chauffeur. There’s no amount of money in the world that I could pay him which would compensate him for sitting through your drama.”

“Of course, I’ll be a saint to the chauffeur.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “This might be some pretentious rich people shit but I do have manners, you know.”

Mary exhales. “If I hang up,” she says, “will you promise to behave?”

“Really? That is a serious question you're asking me?”

“I need a yes or no answer,” Mary remains stubbornly steadfast.

A beat. “...yes, I’ll behave.”

“Then I will see you at the party. Love you bye!”

Ryan shakes her head to herself. “Bye,” she says to absolutely no one in particular. Well, disastrous situation aside, she makes the most of her fifteen minutes of freedom: she finishes her makeup, takes a quick shot of vodka for liquid courage, and makes her way downstairs to wait for the car so the driver doesn’t have to deal with the conundrum that is her apartment gate.

The chauffeur is a nice, older guy who holds open Ryan’s door and doesn’t try to make her talk. Instead, he plays jazz music and remarks ever so often about traffic and the weather. The vodka is doing just enough to make Ryan relaxed until, well…they reach Sophie’s door. 

As much as Ryan will fight tooth and nail to admit it, Sophie Moore is unfairly attractive. She emerges in a fitted orange dress, hair swept over her shoulder, and with a grim expression that Ryan can’t even take pleasure in when she knows her own face is practically a mirror.

“Hi, Ryan,” Sophie says stiffly.

“Sophie,” Ryan acknowledges just as formally. And then, they sit in complete silence.

Their chauffeur undoubtedly picks up on the tension; he checks on them from his mirror once or twice, but doesn’t ask if they’re okay, he just plays his music louder. When they arrive at the venue, Ryan pops open the door before he can even walk around to get it, already itching to escape.

Sophie lets him open her door, though, and she tips him even though Ryan knows Mary has already done the same ahead of time. Begrudgingly, Ryan can respect that. 

“I…wanted to thank you,” Sophie says once they’re alone. “For doing this.”

Ryan shrugs. “Well, Mary asked me to,” she says. “So.”

Sophie purses her lips. “Either way,” she says, in a manner that is clearly quite annoyed, “I appreciate it.”

“Mm-hm.” Ryan watches as other guests steadily trickle past them, and she sighs, ready to accept her fate. “Should we go in?”

“Yes, but…” Sophie stops Ryan with a hand to her shoulder before she can actually walk inside. “Can you at least try to look like you want to be here?”

Ryan blinks. “What? Am I not believable enough for you?”

“Not if you walk in there like I’m leading you to a guillotine, no,” Sophie replies, brow crinkling. “You know, there is actually no downside to acting like we would be dating.”

“Yes, except the part where people would think I was dating you,” Ryan huffs, and Sophie’s expression twists into an offended glare.

“Why did you agree, then?”

“Because there was a whole thing with Mary, and—” Ryan stops before she’s ahead. “It doesn’t matter. I showed up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Sophie mutters without any sincerity, and Ryan follows her inside dreaming of that open bar.

.

.

.

Ryan meets the bride just as she’s two drinks in, a third flute of champagne raised to her lips as Sophie not-so-subtly elbows her to pay attention.

“Hi,” Kate Kane says, holding out her hand which Ryan belatedly realizes is for her. “Nice to finally meet the elusive girlfriend.”

“Yes, we were starting to think you didn't exist,” Alice, the other Kane sister, chimes in; she's staring Ryan down with an eerily searching gaze, and Ryan subtly shifts closer to Sophie.

“Well, here I am,” Ryan says, unsurely resting a hand on Sophie's waist. Sophie clearly isn't expecting it, because she starts, throwing Ryan a sharp glance over her shoulder.

“How fun,” Alice says gleefully. “What a nice big, happy family we’ll become. When are you two getting married? I can officiate now that I’m ordained.”

“Alice,” Mary hisses. “You can’t just ask people when they’re getting married.”

“Why not? This wedding is basically a parade of Sophie’s exes. If Ryan doesn’t marry her after all this, it’s a waste of a date.” 

Ryan twists to look at Sophie at the words “parade of Sophie’s exes.” Sophie, at least, looks adequately mortified. 

“She’s kidding,” Mary laughs, high-pitched and nervous as Alice just shrugs. “Hey, we should go take a picture with Dad. Just the Kane sisters! Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Okay, but if I have to hear another passive-aggressive rant about the ceremony, I’m going to kill myself and everyone in the room with me,” Alice’s voice fades away as Mary frantically shoves her (and Kate) along.

Sophie clears her throat. “So that was my ex,” she says. “Kate, I mean.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Ryan should be taking delight in the way Sophie is clearly uncomfortable, but in a strange turn of events, she can’t. In fact, she feels kind of bad.

“I need a drink,” Sophie sighs, and Ryan wordlessly holds out her glass. Surprised, Sophie eyes it up and down, but accepts it all the same. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ryan cranes her neck to peer at Mary, who is indeed wrangling her sisters towards Jacob Kane. “Hey. Question: Mary said that Jacob Kane pretty much loves you?”

Sophie half-coughs, half-sputters her next sip. “That’s…not entirely accurate.”

“But not untrue?” Ryan quirks an eyebrow, and Sophie’s shoulders slump like she’s lost a battle she hadn’t begun.

“I used to work with him,” Sophie confesses. “That’s how I met Kate. I guess I was kind of his favorite employee or whatever, but—that was a long time ago. It’s embarrassing.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who gets embarrassed easily,” Ryan notes, and Sophie tilts her head, pursuing her lips like she has to think about it.

“Maybe,” Sophie finally admits, “but showing up today dateless would’ve for sure hit the limit.”

Ryan nods thoughtfully. “So that’s why you were so desperate to bring me,” she says. “Even though you don’t think I’m your type.”

This time, Sophie fully chokes on her champagne. “W-what?”

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “I heard you tell your sister that. I’m not, like, offended. It was still rude, but—”

“I didn’t know you could hear us,” Sophie says, and in a perplexing turn of events, she looks quite apologetic about the idea. “I didn’t mean it. I just…said it to get my sister off my back.”

“Oh.” Even as the words sink in, Ryan’s brain can’t seem to form a rational response to this information. Or stop the fact that when Sophie bites her lip in anticipation, Ryan’s eyes are automatically drawn to Sophie’s mouth. “I thought you kind of meant for me to hear it.”

“Is that why you think I’m an asshole?” Sophie blinks. “Seriously?”

“Well why did you think I was so mad at you?”

“I thought you just had a problem with police!”

Ryan sucks in a breath. “Oh, no, I definitely do. I guess my reaction was warranted.”

“Real mature,” Sophie says, narrowing her eyes ever-so-slightly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips so Ryan knows she isn’t taking it personally.

“No, for real, do you still work with the police? Because this is so not going to work if you do. My acting skills can only go so far,” Ryan says.

Sophie scoffs. “You’ll survive,” she says, and twists to peek back at the busy bar. “Should we join the line for another drink?”

Ryan follows her line of sight and resolutely shakes her head. “I have a better idea.”

.

.

.

“You seriously brought a flask to a wedding with an open bar?”

“If you’re going to keep complaining, I’m going to take my whiskey elsewhere,” Ryan threatens half heartedly, but she gets a heady rush when Sophie tilts her head back to take another drink, and knows then and there she’s going nowhere else besides this coat check closet.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” Sophie says, passing the flask back; her fingertips brush against Ryan’s for longer than necessary. “Was the hiding necessary?”

“Duh,” Ryan says, taking another sip. “Mary would never let me live it down if she saw. She’s already given me so much shit about—” She pauses, not sure if she should continue, and Sophie gives a disbelieving laugh.

“You really didn’t want to be my date, did you? God, you’re so petty.”

“Fake date,” Ryan corrects her hastily. “And you seriously can’t blame me when you were the one being rude as hell in the first place.”

“But it wasn’t really what I thought!”

“Oh so I am your type,” Ryan challenges, and Sophie looks away, blushing.

“Look. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to bruise your ego.”

“That is the worst apology I’ve ever heard.” Ryan feels the whiskey like liquid warmth, settling right in her chest, and she grins when Sophie groans. “Come on, Sophie. I’m going to make you work for it.”

“Fine, I’m sorry for…being rude. Even if it was a little white lie and you weren’t supposed to hear it.” Sophie holds out her hand for the flask again, and Ryan is feeling magnanimous enough to let her have it. 

“Still not the best, but I’ll take it.” Ryan leans her head against the wall and sighs, a little sleepy and a little tipsy but otherwise quite content. “You know, you’re not that bad. Even though you don’t have an actual chance with me since you work for the Gotham PD, I think we can be friends.”

“Oh my God, I don’t even work for them anymore,” Sophie says. “I’m—between jobs.” Ryan watches her wince, like she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and Ryan closes her eyes and just hums.

“Been there,” she muses. “Mary saved my ass by getting me a job. If you want some pointers, I’m sure I can make a bartender out of you.”

Sophie gives a huff of a laugh. “My mom would actually die if I told her I was training to be a bartender.”

“Hey, it takes a lot to do what we do,” Ryan says. “Not many people can perfect the art of a Long Island Iced Tea, let me tell you.”

“Except for you?” Sophie is already sitting close to share the whiskey, but when she turns to whisper this teasingly, Ryan is struck by how close their faces are. Like if they shifted even two inches, their noses would be brushing.

It takes Ryan a beat to recover, but she manages: “Obviously. It keeps all the customers coming back.”

Sophie’s mouth twitches like she wants to laugh again, but she settles for a smile, amused and plainly unconvinced. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” she says, and she turns away, their closeness vanishing in an instant. “Do you think anyone is missing us?”

“Mary probably assumes I’ve killed you by now,” Ryan says. “But everyone else probably thinks we snuck off for a hookup.”

“At someone’s wedding?” Sophie sounds positively scandalized at the idea. “That’s…crazy. And us? Do we give off that vibe?”

Ryan watches Sophie squirm and finds it, strangely, very cute. Fuck. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but, couples generally hook up. And weddings are pretty much the #1 place where they do it. I’ve seen it happen.”

“Because you go to so many weddings, or is this just a statistic all bartenders know?”

“Don’t hate the player,” Ryan says, waving the flask to make her point, and Sophie finally breaks down into real laughter.

“Oh, God,” she exhales afterward, “what time is it? I think you’ve somehow managed to keep me at this wedding longer than I wanted to. I had a plan to stick around for like an hour or two just to be nice, but…”

“But I’m just that great of a date, I know,” Ryan says, if only to make Sophie blush again.

“Fake date,” Sophie says pointedly. “Remember?”

Ryan bites her lip. “Right,” she says, and just as Sophie is shifting like she’s about to stand up and ruin the moment, Ryan blurts out: “But what if it wasn’t fake?”

Sophie freezes. “What?”

“We could make this a real date,” Ryan says, heart working so hard it feels like it’s about to race out of her body. “If you wanted it to be.”

“Seriously?” Sophie’s mouth falls open slightly, and she says nothing else, just looks at Ryan with those big brown eyes and heart-shaped mouth agape.

“Unless I’m really not your type and you’re just trying to save my feelings,” Ryan tries to quip, but as Sophie seems to struggle through every conflicted expression known to man, Ryan’s hopes fall into the pit of her stomach. “You know what? Never mind. Obviously that’s not what this is and I’m—” She blindly shoves her flask back into her jacket so she can stand.

But before she can even get away (and fall into the beckoning embrace of the open bar), there’s a hand tugging her back down, and then Sophie Moore is kissing her. It’s a rushed, chaste kiss during which Ryan is definitely too stiff, but it does the trick; Ryan stumbles right back down, and Sophie jerks away, fingertips curled into the collar of Ryan’s jacket without letting go.

“You were talking too much,” Sophie breathes, and Ryan nods at her dumbly.

The only thing her brain can possibly formulate a thought for is: “Wait, so this whole time I really was your type?”

“Shut up,” Sophie says, and when she yanks Ryan back in for another kiss, Ryan is already leaning in at the same time, kissing Sophie as well as her smile allows.

(She’ll have to thank Mary for this later. Much, much later).

#wildmoore #batwoman #i need a fic tag #ive been challenging myself to write some of the prompts from lists i saved to come back to and this one just screamed wildmoore #totally envisioned this as a modern pride & prejudice but w/fake dating and less steps in between <3 #might polish this one up and post to ao3 later im trying to post something every month (writing wise) in 2024 thats my goal #(fingers absolutely crossed lmfao)

[outofangband]

Birds of Dor-lómin

I have decided to make two posts at least for the birds of Hithlum, this one and one for Mithrim and greater Hithlum

As I take inspiration from several European and Asian countries for the environment of Dor-lómin, the species here reflects that however to the best of my ability it is ecologically consistent. Obviously this will not be a complete list and I will go back to it!

And as always requests are open! I’m also always willing to put together ecological world building based on specific real locations!

Flora, fauna, geography and environment of Arda Masterlist

Note: I use Hadorian here to refer to the folk of Hador and of Marach including cultural practices that might predate Hador himself

The eastern mountains and forests around Húrin’s house: hazel grouse, brambling, northern wryneck, common buzzard, Zitting cisticola, grey headed woodpecker, black redstart, grey heron, common quail, great spotted woodpecker, dusky thrush, white winged crossbill, Bohemian waxwing, ring ouzel, tawny owl, common raven

The western border and Firth of Drengist: horned grebe, osprey, black crowned night heron, little gull, black tern, great white pelican, common kingfisher, common starling, little ringed plover, rocky pipit, white tailed eagle

Note: many of the mountain, sea and wetlands birds here are incidental species occurring in Dor-lómin because of migration or other factors. This is also true of some of the species listed for the eastern mountain borders.

The fields and open lands: Greylag goose, corn bunting, little owl, gadwall, mallard duck, wood lark, bearded reedling, hedge warbler, twite, common grasshopper warbler, yellowhammer, greater scaup (migratory), nightjar, stone curlew, barn owl, black headed bunting, whinchat, little grebe, goldfinch, blue throat

Throughout: common wood pigeon, fieldfare, hobby (migratory), common crane, mute swan, house sparrow, merlin, common buzzard (primarily in the Southern mountains), black woodpecker, gryphfalcon

World building notes:

-The people of Hador keep ducks, geese, chickens and pigeons including a species like passenger pigeons. They are the only group of Atani in Beleriand that has a practice of keeping birds primarily for eggs as well as meat and who uses eggs in cooking semi frequently. The Haladin, Bëorians, Drúedain and other groups do eat eggs though not usually chicken eggs and do not often use them as ingredients in baking (although there are some Bëorian dishes that involve bread with quail eggs)

-Hadorian food is a combination of farming and agriculture and hunting and foraging. Grouse, pheasant and wild ducks are sometimes caught for food

-Sea birds are relatively rare but can be seen in western Dor-lómin near the Firth of Drengist and the border to Nevrast. The northern Sindar who live in western Hithlum including western Dor-lómin keep oral records of the presence and appearance of sea birds and mentions of them appear occasionally in song

-Feathers of geese are designs associated with the Hadorian midwinter festival. They are sometimes worn but more commonly embroidered or painted.

-The northern Sindar by the caves of Androth paint birds on the cave and cliff walls, using pigments made from minerals, bark and sometimes shells. Herons, gulls and starling shapes are the most common.

-Random character HC: Sador’s favorite animals to carve are birds especially ground birds. Some of these he even paints or polishes when he has the time.

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #Hithlum #dor lómin #musing and meta #beleriand

[smallswingshoes]

I love learning about other cultures so much, but like the little stuff that doesn't occur to you to share, yknow?

Like, I'm born and raised American, but my mom is from Sweden and only came here as an adult. Something she told me was that they didn't have air conditioning in Sweden cuz it hadn't been warm enough there to really need it, so she had no idea what a/c was when she came here. That's so fascinating to me! Like, it never occurred to me she wouldn't know!

A coworker of mine, Hazem, was born in America and grew up for a little bit here, then grew up for a while in Egypt and became a pharmacist there. (He's now doing his tests to be a pharmacist here.) He's a practicing Muslim and we talk about interesting cultural differences and I said something about how the Christian trinity looks polytheistic to Jews so Christiniaty looks polytheistic to Jews. He was confused because Christinity doesn't always believe in the trinity and I was like !!!! What??? I'd never heard that here, but to him it was super obvious and must be more commonplace in Egypt. I'm sure there are Christians in America who don't believe in the trinity, but I had literally never heard of that and he thought it was the most obvious thing. Clearly it seems much more common of a belief in Egypt than here. That's so fascinating!! The way the culture must be different because of that is just so interesting to me!!

I had a coworker briefly named Narak who I think was from.... oh fuck this was years ago so my memory is hazy, but I think from Cambodia? And we had an interesting discussion one time where he actually asked me if I was white! Because I look white but I'm also Jewish, so I consider myself conditionally white. Because of this, I sometimes talk about myself in a way other white people usually don't to him, I think. And it was an interesting moment because it was clear that the way Americans imagine race is so clearly not the default in other cultures! Before him, I've literally never been asked before in person if I was white. Cuz most people just assume I am white. For him, there was obviously a different understanding of race than the typical white American perception of it. It was so interesting!!

Narak and I also talked about how Americans are weird about food from animals that still have their head! Something that I had also learned from my mom! I told him I'm a bit more used to it than other Americans cuz of my mom, but I'm also a little freaked out by animal heads sometimes. He told me about how he'd like kill his own chicken and pluck it and cook it and that was pretty normal. I thought it was pretty cool! He also mentioned that he had actually had dog as food and I was curious what it was like and he told me the meat was pretty tough so you had to like boil it for a long time or something similar to make it more edible. That's so interesting to me!!! Like, I've heard (usually white) Americans be racist about dog as food, ofc, and heard others rebut that, but I'd never really heard that the meat is actually really tough and doesn't taste all that great on its own, at least according to Narak. That's interesting to me!!

Or like how my Russian immigrant customers/patients were some of my favorites! (I'm a pharmacy technician.) The women in particular actually scared my coworkers a bit because they could be very demanding of good work. If you were new, they would tell you to get them an employee who knew what they were doing. 🤣 But we had one regular who, if she liked you, would give you a chocolate. I actually loved these customers because, even tho they seemed harsh to a Midwest American culture, to me they were very no-nonsense and always knew what they were picking up and what they needed and what it was supposed to cost. It was such a different attitude from my other customers!

Or like another coworker I had, I think her name was... Victoria? Vivian? It started with a V, I swear. Anyway she was Hmong and I was Jewish, so neither of us were super tapped into Christian practices. On Ash Wednesday, she had to ask me why people had like black stuff on their foreheads. I told her it's Ash Wednesday and it's some Christian thing every year. She asks me why they do that and I'm like, "I'm Jewish, I don't know!!" 🤣 I also asked her what the dumbest like white person question she'd ever gotten was and she told me someone asked her once "are you Asian or are you Chinese?" That was the funniest fucking thing to me. There are so many problems with the structure of that question.

I just love these neat little differences in cultures from across the world that you just wouldn't know about unless you spoke to someone, yknow? They're not stuff that would normally be, like, in textbooks or travelogs or something because they're things you wouldn't think to point out to others unless it came up, usually. I love hearing about these little cultural differences that pop up and make some conversations so interesting. The lack of a/c in Sweden, how commonplace it is/isn't to believe in the trinity in Egypt, how race can be conceived so differently, that dog meat is really tough, how Russuan women can be delightfully demanding customers, how a Jewish woman and a Hmong woman can be equally confused by Christianity. I honestly love little cultural moments like this; I think it's a great argument against homogenization or assimilation. I get to learn so many interesting little tidbits about other places that I never would have even thought to have thought about!! It's honestly so sad to me how Americans like me can easily go our whole lives without ever learning this type of stuff or even recognizing that other cultures can be so different! Other cultures tend to be much more aware of this sort of thing than we are and it sucks. Not only because it's a form of oppression for Americans to be so America-centric, but also because you're missing out on so much by forgetting there's anything outside of America.

#op #culture #diversity #idk how to tag this #american culture

[ponponpopcorn]

DB Fanfic made on franticfanfic so it's sloppily written LOL

@superduperdragonball and i both wrote it! squiggle marks ~ where we each leave off. ill let u guys (pointing at the screen) guess who wrote what part

THE POWER OF THE IPHONE

Prompt Characters: Piccolo and Bulma

Info: Set in Super Hero time, Piccolo just wants to fix his broken iphone and it leads to an unlikely scenario....

"Why isn't this thing working...?"

Tap Tap tap, Piccolo's nail hits his phone screen rapidly like a beginner playing Pikachu in Smash Bros. Three days prior, he dropped his Iphone 500 mid-flight and he remained unaware of the limits of current technology. His screen was cracked horribly and it had ceased function, staying frozen at his google search of "Best Romance Novels 2024".

"Tch. It looks like I'll have to ask Bulma for help." Piccolo groans. He flies off from home on his way to Capsule Corp.

Bulma is excited at the sight of her green friend greets him, "Piccolo?! How rare! It's been since the SUPER HERO stuff!"

~

Piccolo landed before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't assume this will be a more common occurance. I"m just here to fix my IPhone."

he pulled his torn to shreds IPhone out of his pocket and threw it towards the woman.

Barely catching it, Bulma balanced on her toes before settling with a sigh

"You ZFreaks never visit me just cause! It's always FIX THIS or FIND THE DRAGONBALLS with you guys! Why can't we just like- I dont know... Go BOWLING!"

...

"Bowling..?" Piccolo tilted his head

"Oh it's like... you throw a ball and hit pins." Bulma took out her pocket tool kit and started finnicking with the Phone

"Hm... Well, if it would please you I would go 'Bowling' with you. I figured it would be a fitting thank you for fixing the phone."

"Aw geez Piccolo! You know you dont owe anything. Just kidding, you do! Lets go bowling this weekend"

Bulma handed Piccolo his repaired Iphone before Trunks ran out and pointed at it and said

"Iphone"

~

piccolo mutters as he leaves, "Iphone...."

Timeskip to Saturday!!!!!!

Piccolo: Vegeta's here too...?

Vegeta: Don't get the wrong idea. Kakarott cancelled our dat- Our fight. our fight. Something about goten's band recital. I'm going to go for Day 2 of the concert tomorrow.

Bulma: Isn't this great!!!! I'll go get some pizza and you boys can hang out here.

Vegeta: .....

Piccolo: .....

Vegeta: ........ So you had that thing fixed?

Piccolo: ..? oh . oh yeah! Now I can play Suika game on my phone again (insert suika game music)

Vegeta: How stupi-......... Let me have a try.

Ten minutes later..

Bulma: Hey guys I'm back! Hope you like BBQ chicken pizza! Oh!

Vegeta: YES NEW HIGH SCORE!!!

Piccolo: Heh, not bad.

Bulma: wowww on they phonesssss let's start bowling

Bulma surprisingly does well at bowling. Okay people need to acknowledge she's not super weak like she can get around she seems a lil sporty at the very least OK!!!!

Piccolo; (panting) how does she get so many strikes

Vegeta: FUCK ANOTHER SPARE!!!!!!

The game ends with a Bulma sweep, Vegeta does better and piccolo... needs to improve, but it's only his first time. Vegeta's been a couple of times with Trunks like when he got an 80 on his last math final.

Vegeta: ...... That was a good experience.

Piccolo: Haha, yeah. How about we go again.

Bulma: what happened

#bows to audience #dragon ball #piccolo #bulma #text #ponpost

[theshadowsneverlie]

+ﾟ⁠*｡Pinned Post Time!!｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

+ﾟ⁠*｡⁠ { Hello, and Welcome to the Never Followed The Prototype Au. I'm Shadow-Lin and or you can call me Shadow or Dow for short if that works for you! This Au as it states is well an Au so it Doesn't really have any common things with what is canon in game. I am a miner, so anything sexual WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Gore may occur but it will likely be censored or just be mild blood, if you are still touchy around those things I recommend you please be careful. You are allowed to ask any of the characters questions that are mentioned and or have a design currently, there will likely be canon ships for this Au in the future but as of right now there aren't. So go wild } ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Normal Talking: "Basic none bold or Italic text"

Shouting Text: Bold and bigger text

Whispering or Mumbling: Smaller and "Chat" font

Thinking text: * Italic and curved *

{ Mod Convo: I will likely have something around my text or it will just be white }

Mods main acc

----------------☆｡⁠*ﾟ ﾟ*｡⁠☆--------------

Extra Info, Designs, and how characters are around each other:

Catnaps design

Dogday Design

Bobby Bearhug Design

Hoppy Hopscotch

[ Not Done ]

Picky Piggy

[ Not Done ]

Kickin Chicken

[ Not Done ]

Dreamer { OC }

[ Main design is Done, Au isn't ]

----------------------☆｡⁠*ﾟ ﾟ*｡⁠☆------------------------

Now onto the Dynamics of the remaining critters!

Catnap & Dogday Dynamic

Bobby Bearhug & Hoppy Hopscotch Dynamic

Picky Piggy & Kickin Chicken Dynamic

Dreamer & The Other Critters

-----------------------☆｡⁠*ﾟ ﾟ*｡⁠☆-----------------------

All of their names will be color coded as to know which one is taking

Finally, hashtags!

#Art ask - An ask that has an art piece connected to it or has an art piece created in response

#Mod responds - Basically Im the one to respond

#Critters Ask - Ask any of the critters that are mentioned a question or basically whatever

#Catnap Ask - Normal Ask

#Dogday Ask - Normal Ask just Dogday

#Other Work - artwork made by other people related to the Au and is shared here!

-----------------------☆｡⁠*ﾟ ﾟ*｡⁠☆------------------------

+ﾟ⁠*｡⁠ { This is still being updated so have mercy and please be patient with me } ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

#Critters Ask #Dogday Ask #Catnap ask #Mod responds #Never Followed The Prototype Au #Other Works

[great-axepectations]

ooh bird info post for avian hybrids? also, what kind of bird? parrot, canary, chicken, domestic pigeon, something else?

I am the proud owner of two small parrots: a cockatiel and a black-capped conure. Birb tax!

I might as well do the avian hybrid post here! I think there are certain insights a bird owner could offer that would be useful to people writing avian hybrid characters. My expertise is small parrots but I'll try to be as general as possible. It's all fiction so none of this is law, but maybe there are some facts here that will help writers with fun details.

One thing is that birds have very high metabolisms! An avian character might be munching on snacks constantly to keep up (they also poop constantly but you don’t have to mention that in writing). This also means that they have very high internal temperatures--around 106 degrees to a human's ~98. Avian hybrids would be very warm to hug! A dangerous side of this is that birds also have very high blood pressure. It's likely a bird will bleed out before their blood can clot, unless you apply corn starch or styptic powder. Remember that if your avian hybrid is injured.

Birds are SO LOUD. Vocalization is how they communicate over long distances in the wild so they need to be heard! If my 90-gram conure is sitting on my shoulder and peeps at full volume, my ear will be ringing for a while afterwards. Some larger parrots can hit decibel levels comparable to a jet engine. If a bird hypothetically had human-sized lungs, they could probably cause permanent hearing damage. It's plausible for an avian hybrid to have a sonic screech attack!

Molting occurs about twice a year, when a bird gradually drops their ragged old feathers and grows them back. If a bird has clipped wings, it will eventually molt the cut feathers and grow new ones, making them capable of flight again. A new feather forms in a sheath or 'pin' that crumbles away when the feather is fully grown. These have blood in them as the feather growns, so it is painful if the sheath is broken too early. Pin feathers are itchy and uncomfortable, but mutual preening with a trusted partner to get those hard-to-reach spots is a wonderful bonding exercise for any bird or avian hybrid. The removed sheaths can make a mess, though--depending on the type of bird, it's either an oily dust or a very fine, chalky powder. An avian hybrid's home will probably need excellent ventilation, frequent dusting, and a powerful air filter. Some birds also maintain their feathers with dust baths--god help you if your avian hybrid does that indoors.

Most birds are prey animals, so they are constantly vigilant for predators (if your avian hybrid is a raptor then I can't help you). This means they have very good hearing and sight. They are also jumpy, and if something spooks them they will go "NO THINK, FLY NOW" and smack right into a window. A sick bird will be picked out of the flock by a predator, so birds will hide any symptoms of illness until they are nearly dead. An avian hybrid might be more capable of expressing their illness, but I can imagine this trait being used as the basis of an angsty sickfic.

Your avian hybrid might be more resilient than an average bird, but birds are incredibly fragile. The hollow bones thing is true, and they break easily. Their powerful little lungs are very sensitive to fumes (canary in a coal mine, anyone?), and even something like a cleaning spray or scented candle can be deadly. Common household substances can be poisonous, like chocolate, coffee, and avocado. (If this post is making you consider getting a pet bird, do A LOT more research. Bird ownership isn't just having a pet, it's a lifestyle choice.)

But to end on a happier note: birds are as varied as humans in showing affection. A happy and relaxed bird will have fluffed-up feathers, one foot tucked up, eyes closed, and slowly grinding their beak (maybe your hybrid could instinctually grind their teeth to imitate that?) Most birds are not cuddly, but my conure is never happier than when she's snuggled in my hand or sleeping in my shirt. She doesn't mind being picked up like an ice cream cone--my cockatiel would throw a screeching fit if I tried that with her. But she will still spend all day napping on my lap while I work, and will tuck her little head up under my nose so I can give her kisses.

This post is already WAY too long but please do send more questions if you want help writing more realistic avian hybrids!

#haha infodump go brrrrr #hopefully this will be useful to someone #birds #asks #avian hybrids #tw blood

[lakanakana]

8, 14, 25, 27 :D

8. any reacquiring dreams?

I don't have any specific recurring dreams but I have lots of locations, characters and other stuff that get repeated so often it's like my brain just has run out of fresh stuff????

Locations like huge malls that somehow morph into weird concrete cities the moment I forget I am in a mall are a common one alongside with my elementary school yard for some reason. Also boreal forests and long roads crisscrossing those forests.

Common themes are world ending apocalypses and making new friends in said apocalypses.

And a recurring character is the cream colored Nintendogs chihuahua

This beast right here above.

I own like 2 or 3 nintendogs games and I never adopted a chihuahua puppy in any of them I think??? Still, this bitch is my most betrusted and beloved brother in arms in most of my dreams. A true bro from the heart and soul. They most often occur in dreams set in cities.

14. what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

This may be weird but I want to wear a bikini. Nothing's really stopping me but I'm just too wimpy to wear one!! Everyone who wears bikini usually has rather small breasts and I would feel weird breasting boobily on a beach

^ how my ass looks skedaddling from the water the moment a reed touches my ankle

25. fave season and why?

Summmeeeeerrrrr!!!! Idk why but I'm constantly cold and really enjoy when my shitty apartment heats up to around 35-40°C (95-104°F) and I finally don't have to dress up as a human burrito in ten thousand blankets.

The sun also doesn't really set and the sky is usually a neat pale lilac color at around 2 am. The birds sing pretty much 24/7 and it's really nice! Up until you have to go to bed.

27. any nicknames?

I mostly prefer the one in my desc, Kana! Just last summer when my coworkers asked if I have a nickname (since everyone uses those because the parents of the mainly 40-60 year old dudes there weren't really creative with names) and I had to learn the hard way that Kana, which translates to chicken, is a slang for "stupid woman" 😭😭😭😭😭 One of them still refuses to call me Kana!!!! I just think it's hilarious, especially combined with my nick here: "bedsheet chicken" which apparently technically also means "stupid slut" or "bimbo" when you really think about the connotations.

Most of my mom's friends call me CCR since I was named after the Creedence Clearwater Revival band

The band makes the most boomer type mysic ever lmaoooo

Honestly it's hilarious how dads in their 60s to 80s that base their entire personality on testosterone and manliness go apeshit ham for the most "crusty 13 year old boy they found in the sewers" looking vocalist

And it's really cute! Their comments in youtube comment sections are the most adorable things ever. Go grandpa!!! (or grandma!!!)

#ask game #kanailu

[mindutme]

Tlette Tlursday #7

It’s fine, it’s 44:12 on Thursday the 15th. Or it’s 8:12 p.p.p.m. if you prefer.

Anyway, this is a followup to last week’s post showing statistics for how often each phoneme occurs in Tlette. That post dealt with dictionary entries (and just root words), but I said I would try to figure out how to do something similar for the language in use. So I did!

Both graphs below show the frequency of phonemes in most of the example sentences I have so far for Tlette. I omitted a few examples that were very similar to other ones, so that the words I happened to choose in those wouldn’t skew the results too much. Still, there aren’t that many Tlette sentences yet so I expect this to change going forward. Fortunately, the chart should be easy to keep updated!

As before, each bar is split to show gemination, or long consonants. The blue bars are what you get if you count a long k as one instance, and you’d add one or both of the other colors if you want to count it as two. First, here’s a chart that sorts the phonemes from most to least frequent, only looking at the blue part of each bar:

The green and gray parts both count geminates, but there’s an important difference! Green geminates are within a word, like the r in tlorre or the m in tlomméyn. Gray geminates are examples of syntactic gemination, caused by the last vowel of the previous word. Following a word like lé any consonant would get doubled, so it’s less about the letter that gets lengthened, and shouldn’t really “count” towards that letter’s total.

Below is the same chart, but sorted by blue and green added together, so it counts geminates but only the ones that are always there. It’s not hugely different from the other chart, but there are a few changes!

Comparing these to last week’s charts, we can see some interesting things. For one thing, every phoneme is now represented, even /ẽj/ which doesn’t appear in any root words. For another, /a/ is back at the top spot, which I had guessed it would be.

/ʔ/ is also much higher on the list than it was in any of last week’s charts, which makes sense—I had been surprised at how low down it was last time based on how much I felt like it showed up. Turns out it’s a little like English th sounds in that it doesn’t show up much in a list of unique words, but does show up a lot in the language as spoken. Unlike English th, it’s not exactly about which words are the most common, though. One factor is the imperfective marking, which always involves the glottal stop. Another is that /ʔ/ often appears, unwritten, to break up vowels in hiatus. So in the sentence Yo piró hallı enq “I want the chicken to eat seeds,” there’s no written glottal stop, but it’s pronounced between hallı and enq to keep the two vowels apart.

To end, here’s the chart sorted by the total for each bar. It’s not super meaningful because the geminates represented by the gray parts of the bar are not about the letter that is actually doubled, but it would feel wrong *not* to include this version of the chart, so here it is.

#conlang #Tlette

[teenwolfmarvel-obsessor]

Weed, Beer, and 20 Questions

OBX Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: You had gotten to know the Pogues through your cousin Kiara. Ever since you moved to the Outer Banks when you were in middle school, you've grown quite close with a certain blonde and confident Pogue. After a very fun kegger at the boneyard, you and JJ play a game of 20 Questions with the help of some beer and weed.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name (Mr. Carrera - Uncle Mike - is your mom's brother)

Kiara -> your cousin

Warnings:

Underage Drinking + smoking

Language

Sexual Innuendos (mentions of sex)

JJ Maybank x-reader

"Here is the plate of fried shrimp and chicken tenders you ordered," I said, "and that side of cocktail sauce." I set two plates and little dish onto the table. Delaine McAlister - a frequent customer - looked up at me and smiled thankfully. Taylor - her five year old daughter - swung her feet back in forth as she took a large bite of the chicken.

I smiled as Ms. McAlister tied the girl's curly hair away from her face. Kiara walked passed me, patting me on the shoulder before attending to another table. "I'll be right back with that extra water," I stated. I weaved through the line of tables, making my way to the kitchen.

The cooks stood behind the counters, making the food people had ordered. A variety of smells filled the air around me when I entered through, with the kitchen doors flapping behind me. I grabbed an extra glass and poured some ice water.

After making sure it was ready, I pushed the side of the door with my shoulder. "Y/N/N, how's today going?" Uncle Mike questioned. I grabbed a pink swirly straw for the little girl as well as a few extra napkins, stuffing them into the pocket of my dark green apron.

"Pretty good," I replied to my uncle's statement.

"Well, feel free to clock out early," he said, "You deserve it."

He rubbed the top of my head, messing up my hair. My uncle turned to help a family of three to a free table. Kiara smiled at a customer after they thanked her for the food. About an hour later, we had finished up our shift. Kiara and I made our way over to her parked car given that we had drove here together. The evening sun hung above a few trees right across from The Wreck.

I smiled at the sound of families laughing near the outdoor seating area. Kiara grabbed her keys from the pocket of her purse, unlocking her grey car. My wavy haired cousin opened the driver side door. I got in as well and set my backpack on the floor in front of my feet.

Kiara set her keys into the ignition before opening all of the windows to get some air flow. It was a hot and sticky Friday given the storm that had occurred early this morning. JJ and I had watched the storm come in late this morning as the sun was rising.

He insisted that the two of us observe from the chateau's dock, referring to the fact that that was the best place to watch it. I would have never guessed that the JJ Maybank would enjoying watching sunrises and or sunsets. Kiara pulled away from the parking lot once I had buckled myself in.

She glanced at me as I thought about this morning's moment with JJ. He and I had grown really close since I moved here in the sixth grade. My cousin had continued to tell me that if JJ ever hurt me, he wouldn't see the light of day. Although, she had no control if I liked him or not; which I did.

"What're you thinking about, speedy?" Kiara inquired, using the childhood nickname.

According to Kiara, I am a very fast runner which led to her calling me that adjective. It became a common nickname within our group which resulted in everyone else calling me just that. JJ abuses it which is rather annoying. "Oh, nothing," I replied. She rolled her eyes and stopped at a stop sign.

Looking both ways, Kiara turned down another street that was in the direction of my house. We lived side by side given that my parents were set on us being near one another at all times; it was the only way that they'd allow me to hangout with our friends. "You're thinking about something," Kiara said, "You always fiddle with your bracelets when you're thinking."

Sure enough, she was right. It had become a habit since I was younger. I glanced down at my fingers, noticing that they were twisted in the thread of my matching green bracelet with Sarah and Kiara. I chuckled and shook my head. "You're not thinking about JJ, are you?" questioned Kiara.

"No comment."

"Y/N/N...." Kiara trailed, shooting me a warning look. I smirked with my cheeks becoming a light shade of pink. She shook her head in disappointment or amusement, not really sure which one. "Hey, you like Pope, why can't I like JJ?" I commented. "Because Pope is Pope, and JJ is..." her sentence wandered, not bothering to finish. Kiara waited till some people crossed the street before pulling into my driveway.

She took her keys out of the ignition and we stepped out of the car. I pulled out the key to the front door, knowing that my parents were at Chapel Hill hanging out with Ward and Rose Cameron. I opened the door, stepping aside so Kiara could enter first. "You never finished your sentence," I reminded as I closed the door.

She rolled her eyes, already extending up the front stairs where my bedroom was on the left. "I didn't finish it because JJ," Kiara started. "Isn't someone to hold a relationship. I'm aware," I interrupted, "but, Kiki, I'm positive that that's not the case." My cousin plopped down on my bed, nearly launching her Rainbow sandals off her feet. I grabbed her shoes and set them on the bench across from my now messy bed.

"And why is that?" she inquired with raised brows.

"Because he's different now."

"Different how?"

I couldn't help feel my stomach do flips at the image of his sun kissed face or the way the corners of his lips turned when I spoke with him. Kiara followed me with her eyes as I rummaged through my dresser drawers, looking for a sweatshirt. "Oh my god," Kiara sat up from the bed, "You like him, don't you?" I turned to look at her, leaning against the edge of the cream colored piece of furniture.

Kie always seemed to read me like a book. I guess knowing me since we were toddlers can be used as an advantage. She groaned in annoyance, pulling her hair away from her face with a velvet blue scrunchie. "I told you not to fall for him," she pointed out.

"How could I not?" I replied, "Kie, did you really expect me to not fall for him. It's logic. If you tell someone not to do something, there's a high likelihood that they're going to do it."

A scoff escaped her lips as she rolled her eyes for the hundredth time. I slipped the sweatshirt over my head, taking out my hair that had gotten caught underneath the grey collar. "It's like - take the 'red button' situation for example. When you see a 'do not touch' button, you're gonna want to click it," I went on. I could tell that she didn't want to hear anymore, but continued to listen to my spiel.

"Are you comparing JJ to a red 'do not touch' button?"

"I guess I am," I responded, "but do you get my point?"

She finally sighed in agreement while she nodded her head. Kiara stood up from my bed, running a hand over my comforter to get rid of the wrinkles from where she once laid. "Listen, I will allow you to date him," Kiara huffed. "Allow? I'm not a-" I began. "A child, yeah, I've heard that before. But if he hurts you I swear to god," she cut my statement short.

I set a hand on her shoulder, fixing the red straps of her favorite cropped shirt that read: Shitake Happens with little red mushrooms at the top. "I understand. Don't want to mess with Mama Bear," I patted her on the head.

Kiara lunged at me. I laughed at her silly attempt to attack me. I swiftly grabbed my tote bag from the knob of my closet door, practically flying down the stairs as she raced after me.

The Twinkie had arrived by the time Kiara and I had ran out of my house. I screamed in surprise as my cousin wrapped her arms around my torso, bringing me away from Earth. 'Damn was she strong,' I thought. Kiara's hair covered my face as she twirled me around.

"Woah, woah! Don't break Speedy!" JJ shouted, peeking his head out from the backseat of John B's adored van.

My chest rose up and down as my cousin had finally let me down onto the pebbled driveway. Her arm lifted from my shoulders so I could lock the door. "God, Kiki, you almost killed me," I said, quickly locking the door before stepping down the stairs again. "I could never kill you....but if you hurt an animal, I might take it into consideration," she responded.

"Are you two done? I'd like to get the keg before they're all out," John B spoke with his arm resting on the frame. "Don't think that would ever happen, B," I replied, stepping into the Twinkie with Kiara following after. "Good evening Popesicle," I gave him a fist bump. Kiara slipped into the front seat beside John B while I sat next to JJ, across from Pope.

__________

(Later)

A gleeful laugh escaped my lips as JJ lazily threw an arm around my shoulders. Tourists, Pogues, and Kooks sang around the Boneyard with red Solo cups in hand. My friends and I sat in a circle, sharing certain memories that we all loved to tell even though we had heard them about a million times. Throughout this evening, we hadn't had any altercations with the Kooks which was nice.

JJ and I had stuck side by side with our hands laced or his arm around me, vice versa. Wild and protective Kiara had kept a close eye on the two of us, making sure that JJ Maybank didn't do something he'd might regret. She was someone who'd step up for her friends - or family - if needed. The light from the moon scattered about the boneyard, illuminating everyone's features.

JJ's eyes landed on the side of my sun tanned face. I looked up at him with my brows slightly furrowed. "What?" I laughed. He shrugged, stealing a kiss on my cheek before turning his attention back to John B who sat across from us. My cousin glanced at me with a small smile on her face, happy at the moment JJ and I just shared.

"Wait, John B, tell the story about how me, you and Y/N stole Mr. Y/L/N's stash," JJ mentioned, pointing at his best friend. I rolled my eyes and shook my head in amusement. Kiara side eyed me, remembering how the boy's and I almost got our asses beat by parents. "No," I grunted.

"Oh, yes," JJ replied. "Speedy, care to start?" John B joked. I sighed, finally giving in already knowing that he'd continue to pester me until I eventually agreed. JJ took his arm off my shoulders to reach across, grabbing an extra cup that someone had filled just in case.

"Okay, so, John B, JJ, and I were in the loft upstairs, watching whatever the fuck we wanted, and," I paused, "JJ..."

I glanced to the side to see him gazing at me with a smirk sitting on his face. He motioned for me to continue. "JJ had the brilliant idea to sneak into my dad's stash and get shitfaced with his whiskey collection and a bunch of other disgusting alcohol," I finished, "Then when my parents were a couple minutes away from my house. We 'quickly' filled the bottles up with apple juice or water, thinking he wouldn't notice but he did. I was grounded for a month."

Everyone laughed. "And I put quotation marks around 'quickly', because we were not being quick about it," I added, followed by everyone softly chuckling. I turned to John B with a mischievous smirk on my face. He groaned, tilting his head back when he new was I referring to.

"John B. Why don't you tell the story about how Ward almost caught you and Sarah doing it?" I retorted with a smile. JJ whipped his head to John B with his brows raised. I covered up my chuckle by taking a sip of the now warm alcohol. "Say what now?" Pope commented, leaning forwards as if he could hear our friend better. Sarah covered her face with her hands.

"Go on. We're hooked now," JJ said.

__________

(Later, after the kegger)

JJ and I laid side by side on the grass, staring up at the starry sky above us. We had been laying on the picnic blanket for an hour now after we had gotten back from the kegger. Everyone had settled down to do their own thing: John B and Sarah asleep in his room while Pope and Kiara watched a 90's cop movie in the living room. JJ and I passed a blunt back and forth, watching as the smoke rose in the air.

My eyes closed for a split second with the sound of crickets chirping in the background and the occasional whir from the air conditioning beside the house. We had been laying in silence just enjoying one another's company. "Hey, let's play twenty questions," JJ said. He turned to me with his elbow propping his head up. I nodded and flipped towards him in the same position. "You go first," I said.

He nodded and glanced up at the sky above us, thinking of a question to ask. JJ thought for a little bit before turning to me. "If you could be trapped on an island with anyone of our friends, who would you choose?" he asked, his hand resting on the side of his face as he sat up. I hummed as I searched my brain for an answer. From the corner of my eye, I noticed JJ's eyes watching my every move.

"Okay, um...."

"You can't pick Kiara," he interjected.

"What? Why?"

"Because she's-she's Kiara, and you're related," he said. I sighed and flipped over with my back on the blanket. JJ handed me the blunt. I took in the smoke before blowing out, watching the grey smoke glide around. "Whoever I say, you can't be offended," I pointed at him, "I'd pick Pope."

JJ sat upright from the blanket, jerking his to me with an offended look on his face. He set a hand on his chest just as he let out a hurtful gasp. "You said you wouldn't get offended," I sat up so my shoulder brushed against his. "That was until you said Pope," JJ stated, "Okay, my turn. What is one thing you can't do for the life of you?"

I fixed my position, now sitting crisscross applesauce. I shivered as our knees touched, JJ's hand finding its way to sit on my knee. I fiddled with the strings of my bracelets, deeply thinking about what is one thing that I can't do. JJ ran a hand through his mop of blonde hair. "Promise not to make fun of me?" I asked. "Of course," he replied. "I can't whistle," I said, sighing.

"What!" JJ said, acting like he was shocked.

Question by question soon led to the two of us high as kites with my head leaning against his chest, back to watching the stars that scattered the Outer Banks sky. "Okay," JJ paused to laugh, "Last question. Who is one person in the group - beside Kiara of course - would you rather have sex with?" My high self laughed at the sound of his statement, causing JJ to laugh as well.

I giggled and answered with, "You. Yeah, most definitely you." I felt JJ's head turn to me. I gazed up at him, my chin resting on his chest. Instead of responding verbally, he set a finger underneath my chin; bringing me close. A round of butterflies flew around in my stomach at the feeling of his lips on mine. It sounds cliché, but I swear I felt the pattern of sparks erupt.

JJ rested a hand on the side of my face, deepening the kiss. He slowly - taking in the kiss - flipped over so he hovered over me. Goosebumps rose to my skin as JJ's calloused hands roamed my skin. The two of us broke apart for air. He stared at me, the corners of his mouth lifting as he awed me.

"We should play 20 questions more often," JJ said before I brought my lips to his again.

Taglist: @kasidy709 @soflties @elliecool123 @ramaalkayyali

A/N: The Taglist Form is still in my bio if you wish to be added to any of my taglists! Have a great day/week, ya'll!

#Netflix #outer banks netflix #outer banks season one #outer banks season two #outer banks season three #Rudy Pankow #Rudy Pankow x-reader #Rudy Pankow imagines #JJ Maybank x-reader #JJ Maybank imagines #JJ Maybank fluff #fluff #imagines #x-reader #y/n #JJ x Y/N #JJ x you

[theyuniversity]

🤬 Expletives Are No F*@KING Joke

In this short lesson, we’ll be talking about expletives—but NOT the kind that means ‘profanities’ or ‘swear words.’

👨🏻‍🎓 In grammar, expletives are sometimes called “dummy pronouns.” They occur in clauses beginning with “it” or “there” when the “it” or “there” does not refer to anything. Although very few people we know are familiar with the term in the grammatical context, they are extremely common; we bet you used dozens of sentences today that began with expletives.

For example, the following sentences start with expletives:

It is vital that you arrive to the concert on time.

There were several raucous students at the football game.

😌 Fortunately, the rules for expletives are straightforward:

When “it” is an expletive, it always takes a singular verb.

It is finally time to go home! 🏃🏻‍♀️💨💨

It is amusing that children still believe in the Tooth Fairy. 🦷🧚🏻‍♀️

It was an exhausting undertaking to organize my parents’ garage.

When “there” is an expletive, the number of the verb is determined by the number of the noun phrase that follows:

There is a place we all call “home.” 🏡👪

There were hundreds of fans in line for autographs. 😍📝

There was an error in your calculations. 🧮

There were six spelling mistakes on your handwritten essay.

Give the following questions a try:

The meteorologist claims that it ( is | are ) going to snow this weekend in Los Angeles. ☃

When we looked at the expansive menu, we learned that there ( is | are ) more than 22 different types of fried chicken. 🍗

The college tour guide candidly admitted that there really ( isn’t | aren’t ) much to do on campus during the winter holiday. 🏫👻

Last year, there ( was | were ) a surprising increase in the number of students applying to small liberal arts colleges in Alaska.

According to Nan, it ( is | are ) painfully obvious and understandable that there ( has | have ) been more accidents on the busy street leading to the new shopping mall. 🚗💥🚙

💁🏻‍♂️ Here are the answers:

is

are

isn’t

was

is, have

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#grammar #English #writing #English class #learning English #expletives #ESL #EFL #ELA #ELT