going back to the 1800s look

2

My mom got to name my brother, so it was my dad who got to name me. My dad said to my mom right before she was going to have her C-section, “How about ‘Street?’ I think ‘Street’ is the best name for our daughter.” My mom started screaming and said, “There is no way I am naming my daughter ‘Street!’” And then she comes back after having me, looks at me, and is like, “OK, I understand Street. Why don’t we do ‘Lane,’ like lane on the road, and we’ll call her Madelaine?’ That’s how my name came about.

2

Totally useless information: I am that kind of person who wears grey or navy and calls that a colourful outfit. I am an all-in-black person, but sometimes I wear green like this one: a slightly darker that what we would nowadays call olive or military green.

This court coat and waistcoat are wonderful examples of the clothing that was needed to be worn in (duh) court at the end of the century: perfect, heavily decorated, hiper elegant and pretty much over the top. Damn, I wish I could embroider like that… or even make a proper coat (JUST LOOK AT THE BACK PLEATS!! Sorry, I’ll go cry in the corner).

Green velvet court coat and matching ivory satin waistcoat, ca, 1790, France.

Back to the Past (Hamilton x Reader) 1

Words: 1600+

Request: [screams] tIME TRAVEL AU WITH A. HAM (like bam u wake up one day in the 18th century) 👌 @ghcstflower

Warnings: Cursing, small mention of linnamonroll

A/N: making this into a series peeps! i didn’t think that a one-shot would suffice for what i wanted to write, soooooo, here it is!

Part 2


You grew up in Northeast New Jersey, so taking the bus back from NYC and your hometown wasn’t as hard as many might think. You soon heard about this new musical that many were anxious to see, and even your friends were constantly telling you about it. You ignored them, of course, because Broadway felt like an opera to you. Listening to showtunes and watching a show about one of the founding fathers just was not your cup of tea.

“Come on, Y/N! Just one song, please!” You friend begged, holding out their phone to you. You sighed, sipping on your coffee. It was freezing outside, below zero. You wore the biggest coat you owned, with giant earmuffs you found in one of your boxes.

You recently moved back to NJ, tired of the city life in Manhattan. Your family was right; living in the city was for people who were always on the go. Since you were the opposite of that, a writer, bumping into people in the streets every day, passersby’ stepping on your toes, was not the most entertaining thing you’ve done. Living there for four months was enough for you.

“No.” You grumbled, looking out the window of the local coffee shop. Your friend continued to whine about the stupid musical, and you eventually gave in, putting on the earbuds that she gave you. She played the opening song, called Alexander Hamilton. You smirked at the cheesiness, but pressed play.

“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean…”

The song trailed on, and you bumped your head to the beat unconsciously, listening to the lyrics. You were surprised on how it sounded more like a mainstream song than a play. You didn’t notice your friend grinning at you, doing a little fist pump.

After the song finished, you gave her back her phone, sipping on your coffee once more. She looked at you, expecting a reaction. You shrugged, playing with your straw.

“It was alright.” Her eyes widened at your response. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of saying that you actually liked it, so denying it was the best way to go.

“Alright? It’s amazing, Y/N! Lin Manuel worked on this play for years, it’s anything but alright.” She mocked your tone, and you frowned at her.

“I told you, I don’t like Broadway shows. They’re boring and follow the same theme. I’m not interested.” She put her face in her hands, shaking her head slowly. You grinned at her actions, bringing your gaze back to the scene outside. Everyone seemed to be always on the move; headphones in and ignoring the world around them. You pitied them; they will never understand the world outside their screens.

“How am I friends with you?” She mumbled.

The rest of the time you were enjoying your break, she told you all the facts of the musical, even showing you some of the cast members. You couldn’t help but stare longer at the man who created the musical; Lin Manuel Miranda.

He was handsome, really handsome. You made a mental note of searching him up later, when your friend wasn’t bugging you about some tickets that she got. She convinced you to join her to see the musical, since your other friend cancelled on her last minute.

“If I go see this with you, would you stop trying to make me listen to the rest of the soundtrack?” You asked, throwing away the empty container into the recycling bin. She nodded quickly, to the point where you wondered if she gave herself whiplash.

“See you tomorrow!” She skipped away, trying to catch the next bus to bring her back home to Manhattan. You looked the train back to your town in NJ, taking less than twenty minutes to get there. You dragged yourself up the stairs, and into the apartment, closing the door behind you.

Later that night, you researched Lin Manuel Miranda. You were surprised that he wrote other plays, and won various awards for things that he created. It was a shock that he was single, his good looks and achievements made you think he’d be married and have children already. As you stalked this man online, your eyes began to close, blinking slowly. Before you fell asleep, you clicked on a link. Your eyes drooped closed, your face falling on your keyboard.

The sun shined in your face, causing you to blink quickly, glaring through your semi open lids. You groaned, rolling over. You reached for your phone, feeling a plant tangled in your fingers instead. You blinked, pushing yourself off the grass.

Wait.

Grass.

You were sleeping outside.

On the grass.

You looked around you, realizing that you were in an open field. It was eerily quiet, not even the birds chirping or the scurrying of squirrels climbing trees. A tent a few hundred feet away caught your attention, so you decided to approach it. You were still dressed in your sweats and tank top, what you thought you wore to bed. Before you reached the tent, a man came out, dressed in what seemed like a colonial uniform from the 1800s. His back was to you, but you noticed that his brown hair was long, pulled back into a hair tie. For some reason, your stomach churned staring at the man.

Did you stumble across some revolutionary reenactment? Is that why the man looked threatening, like he would shoot you at first glance? You searched your mind for some reason as to why you were outside, but the last thing you remembered was sitting next to your laptop.

You went against every instinct that told you not to go to the man, pushing your feet forward. He stopped moving, and you hesitated. He held his musket tight in his hand, quickly turning around to face you. He pointed his gun at your chest, an angry look on his face. You raised your hands quickly, shaking.

His eyes met yours, and he lowered his gun, confused. You gasped at the face in front of you.

It was Lin-Manuel Miranda. The famous guy you were researching last night.

“Miss, what are you doing out here?” He questioned, his hands still tight on the gun. You stumbled on your words, star-struck.

“Uh, I’m, um…” He put his gun in his holder on the side of him. His eyes were stuck on your body, the heat rising in his face. You wondered if he never saw a woman in a tank top before. “Excuse me, my eyes are up here.”

His eyes quickly made it back to your face, clearing his throat. “You did not answer my question, miss.” He replied, standing up straight.

“I’m sorry, but I have no clue why I’m out here. I woke up on this field. Maybe I sleep walk?” You said, lowering your arms. The leaves rustled on nearby trees, causing you to shiver, holding your arms tight against his chest. Lin realized how cold you were, and took off his overcoat, passing it to you. You thanked him, quickly throwing it on your body.

“Do you know where your home is? It must be close by.” You looked around, recognizing nothing in the vicinity. You turned back to Lin, and he had a small smile on his face.

Strange.

“Well, I live in an apartment complex near 42nd street. I don’t remember seeing any open fields in the middle of the city.” You mumbled. He stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. He chuckled softly. “What?” You questioned.

“Are you okay, miss? I never heard of this forty-second street or an apartment complex? We’re in Virginia.” He stated, crossing his arms. “Were you sent by Laurens to play a joke on me? Wait, are you trying to seduce me?” He moved his hand back to the gun on his side.

This guy must be crazy. He lives in NYC, he grew up in Washington heights. For crying aloud, the Richard Rogers theater is right in the heart of Manhattan. You glanced around him, noticing more tents around. Wait, there was more than just ten.

There were hundreds.

You stared at Lin.

His outfit seemed quite authentic, to the dirt under his nails to the blood-stained pants. You don’t recall seeing the pictures online having red marks on the pants. He looked young, too, maybe in his early twenties. Not the man you recall seeing on the internet that was in his late thirties. He was staring at you as well, still cautious.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Alexander Hamilton.” He said simply, with a small bit of pride in his voice. You still fought off the idea that this may not be the time you were supposed to be in.

“Do you know who Elizabeth Schuyler is?” He shook his head, his foot tapping against the ground.

“What is a television set? A laptop?” He frowned.

“Are you telling me about a new weapon the British created? Who are you, miss?” He took out his gun from the position on his hip. “Who sent you here? And I’m not going to ask again.” You realized what’s going on.

“Tell me the year.” You said, your eyes widening. He didn’t say anything, his mouth in a straight line. “Tell me the year.” You repeated sternly. He smirked at you, rolling his eyes.

“1776.” He said, and you dropped onto the ground. He jumped back, confused.

1776. The year, it’s 1776.

What the hell is going on here?

dio + passione

Dio can’t get over the mess of screaming children that is the rest of Passione once Giorno introduces him to them (providing they all lived).

Mista won’t stop staring at his chaps and making disgusted faces while his whiny stand feasts on pepperonis. This never stops through the entire visit. Mista is deeply troubled that Giorno’s dad puts his dick on display for everyone.

Narancia won’t stop asking Dio questions. Dio actually tried to stab his hand, missed and hit between them, and Narancia thought that meant they were getting along/it was a different kind of gang salute. He stabs at Dio’s fingers, hits, and because Dio can’t kill any one of these chumps he just glowers at the orange boy as he withdraws his knife from his knuckle and flings it back at him.

Trish is good. Dio likes Trish, she’s not very chatty and she sometimes shows him pictures in magazines of what would look good on him in modern day Italy. He asks Giorno if he’ll marry this girl, Giorno reminds him he’s not particularly interested in women. What a pity, Dio thinks she deserves a worthwhile relative.

Abbacchio knows where the good wine is but thankfully doesn’t pee in it this time. Dio tells him about a hidden stash of The Good Shit from when he was running around as a Vampire in the 1800s that he can’t go get because traveling by ferry between Cairo and Napoli was already a pain. Abbacchio writes this down.

Fugo seems like a troublemaker to Dio. At the very least, he looks like he’s going to be the one to lose his shit on everyone and betray them all someday. However, he’s very intelligent, so he usually listens to Fugo speak as he folds his hands and stares him down with a judging stare.

Buccellati doesn’t like Dio. Asks why Dio wasn’t there for Giorno growing up and all of the other awkward questions. Constantly calls his empathy into question, but can’t deny the similarities between him and Giorno… still, it’s a Dad-off and Bruno is the only qualified contender. Dio’s just :/

My Dad Reacts to Hamilton (Act 2)

What’d I miss?: “He literally just told you what you missed!”

Cabinet Battle #1: “I bet he’d wished he had stayed in France, he’s only been back home one day and he’s already fighting with Hamilton. And what did Madison ever do to Hamilton?!”

Take A Break: “Wait so you get mad at me for traveling abroad too much but you still like Hamilton?! He literally said no to his wife and the woman he might have had an affair with like twelve times!””

Say No To This: “Ooh yay, the affair, finally! Oh wait that’s bad.”

The Room Where It Happened: “Why is Burr like that sad kid that stares longingly at the cool’s kid table?” *nudges me* “Hey, like you!”

Schuyler Defeated: “Ooh, that was rude Burr. Then again, Hamilton did get the job from Washington that Burr wanted, so…”

Cabinet Battle #2: “Oh lord, another one of these.”

Me: “Don’t you like them?”

“Of course, but it’s really weird imagining dead guys with ridiculous wigs rap battling each other.”

Washington On Your Side: “Ha, I love how Madison only started singing to make sure everyone knew he was the one to write The Bill of Rights!”

Me: “Well actually, Madison gave a lot of credit to other people and protested when people referred to him as the “father of the Constitution” or any other grand title-”

“You’re ruining it for me!”

One Last Time: “Hey remember when we went to Mount Vernon and you forced me to listen to this as we saw his tombstone while crying?”

Me: “I was honoring a great man dad!”

I Know Him: “I know him too! It’s Hamilton right?”

“Why do so many songs start out making it seem as though they’re going to be about Hamilton and then not actually being about him? It’s both disappointing and reliving.”

Me: “Reliving?”

“Yeah, because I know he hasn’t done anything even more stupid yet.”

The Adams Administration: “See, this is what I’m talking about! Why did you do it Hamilton, you just destroyed your career!”

We Know: “Goddamit Hamilton, you idiot.”

Hurricane: “Wait… what is Hamilton planning on doing?”

The Reynolds Pamphlet: “Are you kidding me?!”

Burn: “No… Eliza…”

Blow Us All Away: “Why is this so happy?!”

Stay Alive (reprise): “Ha, ‘most disputes die and no one shoots,’ yeah, sure. There are three duels in this and all of them end in a death!”

Me: “Actually, Lee never died in the duel. He was just injured.”

“Why couldn’t that have happened to Philip?!”

It’s Quiet Uptown: “Hey, we visited their house uptown! Now I finally know why you were humming this song and looked like you were about to cry…”

Me, fighting back tears because that song makes me emotional every time: “I wasn’t going to cry!”

The Election of 1800: “And I thought the election this year was dramatic…”

Your Obedient Servant: “Why does Burr keep saying he wants to be in the room where it happens? It’s getting a bit sad now.”

Best of Wives and Women: “Oh, so this is why you always say Eliza deserved better.”

The World Was Wide Enough: “No! Wait, why has the music stopped? Did Hamilton not die?”

“No!”

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story: “Wait so Eliza outlived her eldest son and husband by half a century?”

Me: “Yeah, and her sister, son, husband, and parent all died within the span of four years.”

“Oh, wow. See, this is why we should learn about the founding fathers’ wives as well! Didn’t you say Dolley Madison had a parrot that could swear in French?’”

Me: “Yeah, and it would bite people.”

“See! More people need to know this.”


My dad reacting to Act 1: [x]

Is That Okay?

A/N: I haven’t written anything but Cas/Misha x reader lately, take it easy on me please haha!

Request: Can you write a Jared fic where she has a bad anxiety attack and he helps her through it and tells her it’s gonna be okay ? If not could you do Sam ? Thanks

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Reader experiences an anxiety/panic attack, light swearing

Word Count: 1.3k

Originally posted by out-in-the-open


“Dean! Behind you!” You shouted from halfway up the stairs, down to Dean. He spun around and shot the ghostly woman with his salt rifle. When she vanished. You sighed in relief.

“It’d be nice if Sam would hurry the hell up.” Dean grumbled as you both kept your guard up. You and dean were covering a house while Sam burned the bones of this woman; and you hated it.

You hated anytime you were separated on a hunt. Even if it was just as simple as burning some bones. You especially hated when you were separated from Sam on a hunt. With you being in love with him, it made hunting that much harder.

You sat down on the old creaky stairs for a moment. Tonight wasn’t a good night for you, and you shouldn’t have went on this hunt. You were coming up on the anniversary of your family’s death, and you weren’t fully in your head. Dean had the downstairs covered, so you thought you could catch a breather.

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anonymous asked:

Please tell us about Muscular Christianity. Please, I'm so curious.

The wikipedia article

It’s less funny than it sounds cause it’s basically just going to the gym with your church buddies, which was less weird in the 1800s I guess

You know I was gonna say that if I saw a bunch of really fit, nice looking, chummy guys working out together nowadays, I’d just assume they’re gay, but I probably would’ve assumed that back in the 1800s, too, even if they quoted Leviticus every few minutes.

Yuta Vampire Au (Random Headcannon Series)

Taeil - Johnny - Taeyong - [Yuta] - Doyoung - Ten - Jaehyun - Winwin - Mark - Haechan

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Originally posted by nctinfo

Summary: A Yuta vampire au, loose story with boyfriend elements

Genre: 99% fluff, 1% angst

Warnings: Car accident, slight swearing

A/n: Something very casual to start this series

  • Starting this off with my ub
  • I love him so much
  • Anyways let’s talk about how he was turned
  • Was walking around the docks back in the 1800s when this dutch man comes up to him and goes “wanna see something cool?”
  • And Yuta was like “sure, I don’t see why not”
  • And then the dutch guy goes “kay but we need to do it in private”
  • Being the idiotic person he was back in the 19th century he suspects nothing of it
  • So the Dutch man and him go to a secluded area
  • And then this guy goes “watch this”
  • Then he shows Yuta his fangs
  • And he’s like “?? why are your two teeth so long??”
  • And then the guy looks at him like he’s crazy
  • “Well I’m what they call a vampire”
  • Then Yuta looks at him like he’s the one who’s crazy
  • “Oh you don’t know about vampires?”
  • He shakes his head
  • “Well… We kinda drink blood and stuff, plus we live forever”
  • And then Yuta’s like “Can I be one too?”
  • Dutch man is like “ uhh sure?”
  • So then the guy bites him
  • And then Yuta’s like “cool I guess”
  • Moving on
  • So in the next few months he starts to become a vampire and can’t deal with the smell of blood around him all day long so he goes and hides in the mountains
  • He builds a nice home up there and drinks the blood of those who come up (in moderation of course)
  • But in the 21st century a lot of people have gone missing from history in the mountains
  • So people stop going took you long enough to figure that out
  • And Yuta’s confused as he doesn’t really wanna drink animal blood he’s become a foodie
  • Or should I say a bloodie badum tss
  • So he has to come down
  • Then he learns of this country called South Korea and buys a one way ticket there
  • Once you’re immortal and a vampire the worries of not being able to make it go right through your head I guess
  • Anyways, he sets up a nice home there and everything’s going great since he can just travel to the blood bank to get his food
  • And he managed to make it to uni
  • So we haven’t talked about you yet, so let’s do that
  • You were a younger university student who was studying in Korea at the same school as Yuta
  • He was a really mysterious guy but no one really wanted to ask who he was since he was always studious and would only really focus on the work he was given, even in group projects
  • This makes him a great person to collaborate with
  • Lucky you got paired up with him for something that counted for about 10% of the class
  • Not much but it makes a diffrence
  • Moving on
  • He’s at your house and it’s like 12:30 am at night
  • He really wants to get this over with as you smell delicious and if he doesn’t get out of there he will literally eat you
  • So he’s just sitting there, doing his work as you much on some snacky food when you move the piece of cloth that’s been hiding your neck from him
  • And then Yuta goes “can you put that back?”
  • And you of course respond with “why? I’m not nun or something like that”
  • And he just looks up at you and says “I need you to”
  • And you look back at him and say “what, are you a vampire or something?”
  • The logical idea would be to deny it or something but Yuta feels so comfortable with you he goes “yes” and shows you his fangs
  • And you’re probably going “haha good joke” but he is adamant that he’s a vampire
  • And now you’re really creeped out and are starting to back away from him when he says “you know about soulmates right?”
  • And you go “yes”
  • “Well I think I may just be your soulmate”
  • And now he’s far from just being creepy so you ask him to leave
  • Yeah you two don’t talk for months
  • That was until you got a little bit too drunk with your friends and walk out into the middle of the road
  • You see a car coming at full speed ahead so you close your eyes and pretty much accept your fate
  • But when you don’t feel excruciating pain you open your eyes to find Yuta staring down at you with an incredibly concerned look on his face
  • He doesn’t let go of you as he walks you home
  • When you both get there he’s ​adamant about taking care of you, saying that vampires don’t actually need sleep but rest anyways as it’s hard to figure out what to do with all that time
  • So you let him in and he puts you to bed with a kiss on the forehead
  • He can tell you’re really flustered so he looks down at you with a smirk
  • He stays beside you until you fall asleep
  • And when you do fall asleep he prepares breakfast for you and puts out all the plates and things
  • When you wake up in the morning you find yourself trapped under his arms while he lightly snores beside you
  • You had to say that you wouldn’t mind waking up like this every day
  • Maybe Yuta was right about being your soulmate
  • Yuta would constantly make jokes about drinking from you
  • Let’s skip ahead a few months
  • After awhile you would have to go ffs Yuta if you really want to you can and he would just go wide-eyed and say “you sure”
  • And you’re like “yes Yuta, I’m fucking sure”
  • Anyways
  • Makes you breakfast everyday
  • Once he tried to it eat too but since he hadn’t eaten human food in so long he nearly threw up
  • And you went “aww baby it’s okay”
  • But he still felt bad
  • Would totally make you dress up as a vampire with him when you two go to costume parties
  • Thinks you’re really cute when you’re in costume and you pretend to be scary by hissing at him
  • “I can turn you into a real one you know”
  • “I’m fine being human Yuta”
  • He would probably have some jealousy issues due to being insecure about being a vampire
  • Almost teared two people in half at a club one time
  • Likes going out at night with you for walks or drives, mostly because the sun hurts his skin
  • He’s made a vow to protect you forever and always
  • Because​ of this he loves when you cling onto him for security
  • I can’t think of much else sorry
  • Overall he’d be quite the interesting vampire

Please check out this to see what thoughts I have for the other members so you can suggest ideas!

Texas Gothic

•You go outside into the blistering sun. It is around 70 degrees out. You go back inside, it is unbearably, brain-numbingly cold, it is around 70 degrees there too. It is always around 70 degrees no matter where you go.

•You take a trip downtown, suddenly you’re in a horse driven carriage on a brick road in the 1800’s yet nothing has changed, everything returns to normal down the next street flickering back into modern day.

•There’s a whataburger a couple blocks away, there always is, even in the life barren wastes of the desert you see an orange and white restaurant in the distance, you look behind you and there is another, they are closing in on you.

•There are people speaking and writing Spanish everywhere, some parts of town are entirely in Spanish, your uncle speaks Spanish, sometimes you speak Spanish, you have forgotten the difference between the english and Spanish languages and now there is only words you can understand and words you sometimes cannot.

•A foreigner walks into town and utters the words “You all” everyone is staring at them now in anger and disbelief, everyone falls silent around them now giving them nothing but glares and looks of utter confusion. No one has said such words like that in Texas in thousands of years.

•Your friend brings some candy back from their trip to Mexico, the writing on the wrapper appears to be a collection of ancient ruins, the candy itself resembles crystallized darkness pulsating with the damned souls of a hundred conquistadors, maybe they used to put cocaine in it.

•They say “Everything is bigger in Texas” and they are right, everything is so so massive, you cannot reach the seat of your chair, your iced tea towers over you, you live in fear of your cat.

Three Swipes, You’re Out

based off of this post made by @tamilprongspotter even though I have no idea how tinder works (there was a lot of wiki how involved and if you want a good laugh you should definitely check that out)

4.1k | ffnet

Lily downloaded Tinder the night her sister got married.

It’s not like- she was just drunk and lonely, okay? Which, she understands now is a pretty stupid reason, but she just watched her sister get married at twenty three, and excuse her for having a bit of an existential crisis just because she’s twenty and hasn’t had any type of fulfilling romantic relationship. It seemed like a good idea at the time even though she knows most people don’t use Tinder for actual relationships, but like she said, she was drunk. Of course, she also tries to convince herself that she’s just twenty; she doesn’t even need to go out and find some sort of fulfilling romantic relationship because she’s a strong, independent young woman who doesn’t need a man to feel fulfilled in life.

(If anyone asks why she’s arguing with herself over Tinder of all things, it’s just because it’s two in the morning and she’s drunk, with mascara smudged around her eyes, struggling to unlock her phone because her fingers don’t seem to work all of a sudden. Long story short, she’s a mess.)

Still though, the whole scenario is pretty fucking stupid, and Mary and they don’t stop taking the piss for almost two weeks.

-

In all honesty she doesn’t really expect to actually use the app.

She does set up her profile- and by set up she just means adding whatever pictures she thinks she looks cute in, actual descriptions be damned- but that’s about it.

Sometimes she might swipe through it when she’s bored, but it’s only because she’s curious. She wants to see the kind of people the dating app thinks she’ll be good with that’s all.

No other reasons whatsoever.

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anonymous asked:

That Tony is Holmes au gives me so much life!!!

It gave me five years of mine simply writing it along with @summerpipedream 

It’s a glorious AU. It really is. And just imagine soft Holmes being cuddled by Steve and Watson somewhere in the background glowering because “that’s my genius” 

But now I just thought of the little quirks that Holmes has and Steve finally noticing them when he returns back after his little trip to the 1800s. The moments when he noticed Tony looking around, panicked, as if he could see some invisible force but can’t pinpoint and searching frantically for it, he realizes were sensory overloads Holmes was prone to always get when his mind wanders and now it just makes so much sense. Holmes’ mind was always running at high speeds. This doesn’t just go away because he had a name change. On the occasions it happens Steve becomes his rock, something steady for Tony to focus on and push back the overwhelming senses, give him solid ground. Gently says his name and cradles him as he calms his wandering mind. 

And then the first time he spars with the team after returning he is reminded of the fact that Tony could actually take him on without his armor. Could have defeated him with his armor on. Holmes can predict and can map out his opponents movements. Who’s to say he can’t do it anymore because he changed his name? No, he knows Tony has been holding back. Why? That’s for Tony to tell him, but right then he wanted to see how he’d truly hold up against the legendary Sherlock Holmes. Steve’s got strategy, but Tony’s got prediction. Opposites of a coin. Who will win? Who will hold up the longest? Is it a draw?

Turns out it’s an equal match as they spar for nearly an hour and end up attracting the rest of the Avengers to watch. They’ve got an audience and they’re all betting on who’d surrender first. 

I’m reading a book called Labor of Love: The Invention of Dating, which I’m finding really interesting, in part, as a historical writing resource, even if some of it is making me raise my eyebrow with a bit of skepticism. Still, it’s full of useful info for historical writers, such as this fun fact:

Did you know arcades go back to the late 1800s/first decade of the 1900s? The book references them occasionally as a place where young working-class people would go to have fun and sometimes meet other single young people, and I looked it up because I wasn’t sure what they meant by “arcade” in a 1905 context, but no, they meant arcade, just like we use it, with coin-operated entertainment machines. Except instead of video games, it was mostly things like machines to tell you your weight, give you an electric shock – this was weirdly popular in the early 1900s – show you a moving picture, play a record for you, and things like that. The most familiar-to-us were games of skill – basically proto-Skeeball and pinball-like games.

Anyway, I’ve run across a really interesting thing about dating in the 1940s/1950s, the Peggy Carter era: it was the first time “going steady” (that is, dating one person exclusively) became a thing. Before that, the normal thing was that a young person would date many people at once, unless they decided they wanted to marry this one specific person and became engaged. According to the book, in the cash-strapped 1930s, going on a lot of dates (with different people) was how you displayed yourself as a desirable partner (as opposed to a decade earlier, during the more prosperous 1920s, when it was all about lavishing your date with expensive things). 

But starting in WWII and moving on into the ‘40s and ‘50s, things flipped around totally, and it was all about having an exclusive boyfriend or girlfriend who wasn’t allowed to date other people, rather than having an endless variety of dates. Similarly, the book claims that “breaking up” was something that only really started to become a thing in the 1940s – prior to that, dating was a lot looser, where an unattached young single might decide to stop seeing another person, but both of them were probably seeing plenty of other people, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. (As opposed to, say, breaking an engagement, which was pretty brutal.)

… that is, it was only in the 1940s that there came to be a socially accepted intermediate step between “casually date lots of people” and “get engaged to one person”. Of course this was accompanied by a lot of handwringing about SEX! BEFORE! MARRIAGE!, because the emotional intimacy that went along with steady dating encouraged a kind of physical intimacy that the lighter, flirtier, non-exclusive dating of the previous couple of decades didn’t – but without the commitment step of having an engagement ring and/or being married.

This book is kind of (a lot) frustrating because it makes these sweeping declarations about dating habits in various decades and doesn’t really touch (much) on individual variation. So I can only assume that there must have been (plenty of?) people pre-1940 who had their eye on one person specifically, just like I’m sure there were people who got engaged right off the bat in 1950 rather than “going steady” for awhile first.

(At least if they weren’t super young. A lot of this chapter is talking about high school students.)

Still, I’m finding it really interesting to think about in terms of what Peggy (and those around her) would have considered “normal” dating behavior. I mean, according to this book, a decade earlier it would’ve been the normal, accepted thing for Daniel to date both Peggy and Violet at once (taking them out to dinner, going dancing, stuff like that), and both of them would probably have been seeing suitors as well, but nobody would be super serious about any of it unless one of the couples really clicked and then, engagement time!

At least if this book is accurate.

If You Were Here...


((A/N: This is my first attempt at smut. Boy golly is it. I tried to lighten it with some humor, though I did enjoy writing the dirty bits. Figured I should consider ending my nights this way. Also a great way to ring in my first “Hump Day” smut fic. If this gets any traction, I’ll see about writing more in the future. That said, requests are open per usual! Let me know how you felt about this.

Warnings: Smut. Oral sex. Dirty talk. Brief Daddy!Dean and Dom!Dean talk.

Word Count: 1800))

“How long until you guys are back?” You held the phone up to your head, speaking boredly to Dean. He and Sam were on a hunt and you’d been stuck at the bunker looking after Cas. It was like babysitting a five-year-old.

“Aw, can’t go a few days without me? Sorry, Y/N. Gonna have to get yourself off without me.” You could feel him grin through the phone, hearing Sam muffled in the background.

“Dude, gross, I’m sitting right here!”

Keep reading

Seeing Hamilton has really re-sparked my love for the show, so I’ll share some little things about the show I saw.

- The person who we saw playing Hamilton was so amazing! This was Jevon McFerrin. When he came out from the stage door I didn’t recognize him, because they had put him in a wig.

-Jevon sounded like a mix of Lin and Anthony Ramos. And as my sister pointed out, he acted in the “sort of obnoxious Hamilton” way.

-The guy playing Burr was so so so amazing. He stepped out from stage right in the first song and we applauded.

-Mandy Gonzalez was Angelica. So. Good.

-Lexi Lawson was Eliza. Ohmygod the was so good

- The girl playing Peggy and Mariah was so tiny! She was so little compared to everyone else, and her voice deeply contrasted that! So good

-Dude playing Laurens and Philip was amazing. For a second I actually thought of was Anthony Romas, because he sounded and looked (sans freckles) like him.

-Yorktown was outstanding. I have no words for how incredible this was.

-The guy that played King George was hysterical. Oh my goodness. We was great to watch.

-Don’t even get me started to the guy playing Washington. Amazing voice.

-Laurens Interlude… dear god, just rip my heart out…. As Eliza was reading the letter, Lafayette and Mulligan appeared on the back railing, looking devastated. And Alexander just kinda had a heartbroken stare to where Laurens stood… oh my god…

-Second Act was LIT

-Jefferson came out on stage. And when there was no immediate applause he gave he audience a face and waved his hands up. He did this several times.

- Cabinet battles were so great. Jevon was a rather physical actor and got all up in Jefferson’s face

- Take a Break was so cute, especially when little Philip was doing his thing!!!

- Say No to This….oh my god….the staging and the way the actress playing Mariah was portraying her really made her look like the victim. She was hesitant at first, and looked rather terrified when Hamilton was yelling at her. And the way James Reynolds was dressed, from my mother’s own words, made him “look like a pimp.” And when he went to collect Mariah and the money he slapped the leather on his jacket and grabbed her arm….just really really good

- I have no words for Room Where it Happens…..just so amazing….the lighting the movement…..

- Washington on Your Side was so cool. The blasts of light that came down after the “oh” were awesome, not to mention the movement of the ensemble.

- One Last Time was so beautiful. The Washington we saw had such a deep soulful voice. And while his voice did crack twice, he really covered it. And I think my theory is correct that One Lat Time also doubles as Washington’s funeral. It wasn’t long after he stepped down that he passed away, not to mention everyone on stage was wearing black as Washington ascended the staircase.

- Hurricane was beautiful. These blue lights flooded the stage and they had a watery look to them. The harp that was playing was so beautiful. And the ensemble was moving around on the rotating stage piece had all sorts of chairs and barrels that they moved through the air. It was mesmerizing.

- Reynolds Pamphlet was really awesome. King George had stayed on the stage since I Know Him, and had gone up to the balcony during Hurricane, and came prancing down the stairs during Reynolds Pamphlet. He started dancing with Burr, and Jefferson was bouncing around the stage making it rain pamphlets. He, Madison, and Burr came to the front of the stage, and handed one to the freaking conductor in the pit. When Angelica entered, you could tell shit was about to go down, Hamilton grabbed her hand and pulled her in, but she snatched her arm away, and gave him the most disgusted look. The ensemble was dancing all over the floor (Thayne). And in less than ten seconds, the stage that was covered with papers was clear, right before Eliza came out from the back wall.

- Lexi Lawson is amazing. Burn was so heartbreaking….he voice was so beautiful…

- I didn’t get to see the very beginning of Blow us all Away, because some lady in front of us decided to get up…so I missed Philip’s entrance…. but he was still cute. And when he interrupted the show Eacker was watching even the actors had stopped and everyone was staring at Philip. And then you know…he gets shot….

- I’m going to be honest it didn’t start really crying until Stay Alive reprise. Like other songs made me really emotional…but this just really broke me. Philip was laying down on the table on the roaring stage piece. Alexander came running in and as the doctor held him back Philip kept getting further away from him, and you could hear the desperation on Alexander’s voice. And when he got to Philip he really looked in pain. His legs were shaking and his voice was wavering in and out. And then Eliza came running in, and she immediately grabbed Philip’s hand, and held him close, almost screaming at Alexander. And the bass drum (I think) got a little bit slower with each hit, which I’m pretty sure represented Philip’s heart beat, and it soon became the only instrument you could hear as they counted in French. And one his last number, Philip just collapsed against the table. It took a moment of silence, and Eliza just let out the most heartbreaking scream, and just sobbed onto Philip. Alex grabbed her hand, but she pulled away, not looking at him.

- It’s Quiet Uptown was just really sad to watch. Eliza and Alex didn’t let go of Philip until the rotating piece had spun them around the the very back, and as they walked forward, Eliza had an expressionless face and Alexander looked absolutely broken. Very soft lighting and movement by the ensemble…it just looked like a very gentle moment. And when Eliza grabbed Alexander’s hand, he broke. They moved closer together, but they didn’t look at each other. Both started to cry, and they walked to the back hand in hand.

- Election of 1800 brought everyone back from their tears. Madison came on with handkerchief, wiping his eyes. And Burr didn’t really take in the fact that Hamilton didn’t endorse him until towards the end. He kept his smile on his face, but really lot it at the end.

- Your Obedient Servant was really well done. Burr had completely lost his cool, and sounded frustrated the entire time. He had one ensemble member take his letter to Hamilton. Then when Hamilton sent his letter back it took eight people.

- World Was Wide Enough was really amazing to watch. The effects the light have off were amazing…and everything got dark when Hamilton had his moment of “I imagined death so much…”

- Who Lives Who Does Who Tells Your Story was so beautiful. Everyone except for Alexander, Eliza, and Burr were in their beige ensemble clothing. Eliza sounded so desperate to keep Hamilton’s legacy going. And when it came to the orphanage, she looked to broken. And when she met Alexander again, he walked her back to the front of the stage, and it looked like he was showing her the audience, and she let out a gasp, and reached her hand out as the lights faded.

Overall, 11/10. It was so amazing to watch. And within the last month or so, I had started to lose my interest in Hamilton, but seeing it live was an experience I can’t quite describe. If you ever get the chance to see it, don’t pass it up. It’s such a wonderful show.

~Mandy ❤️

On Economic Disparities: Cause, Effect, and Race

For as long as I can remember, I’ve heard white people say the reason blacks are economically worse off than whites is because “they are lazy” or some other negative stereotype.  If pressed to explain why they believe this, they will point to impoverished, urban areas, high unemployment rates and higher use of social safety net programs by blacks than whites.  If these are the criteria for being “lazy,” there are a lot of lazy white people where I grew up.  White people who would never, ever label themselves as “lazy” and would be incensed if anyone were to call them such, but who are unemployed, live in rundown, falling apart homes, and survive only because they receive subsidies from the government every month.  Even though they meet their own criteria for “lazy,” they don’t think of themselves as lazy because to them, there are good reasons, causes for their situations: “I got laid off and there are no other jobs around.”  “I hurt my back in 2008 and haven’t been able to work full-time since.”  “There just aren’t any good paying jobs around anymore.”  The reasons they give for their economic situations never include, “I’m lazy” and almost always include some external, out of their control cause for their situation.  But, when it comes to minorities, especially blacks, their economic situation is viewed by whites to be completely in their control, “all they have to do is get a damn job.”  For blacks, their economic situations are always self-chosen.  Except they aren’t. 

The average white household’s wealth is $142,000.  The average Hispanic household’s wealth is $13,700 and the average black household’s is $11,000.  This income disparity between whites and minorities is not the result of whites being better, harder workers or minorities being “lazy.”  This wealth gap is the result of decades of public and private policies intentionally geared to make sure minorities are not treated equally, especially economically.  There are specific causes that have led to the effect of the average white household having nineteen times as much wealth as the average black household. 

It is fairly easy to connect the dots to show how and why this wealth gap was created and maintained.  For most Americans, their wealth is in the value of their home.  Most people don’t have $142,000 in the bank or in stocks.  The average savings account balance is barely over $4,000.  Less than half of Americans have money in stocks, including 401Ks.  More people own cats than own stocks.  For the average American, their wealth is directly related and tied to the value of their home.  This is why when the mortgage crisis hit in 2008 it impact was so devastating. It wasn’t like when the dot-com bubble burst in 2000 where those affected were a small percentage of people who owned tech stocks. Because the financial crisis of 2008 was tied to mortgages, it impacted millions of homeowners who saw their largest asset drop significantly in value overnight.  Because wealth is so connected to home ownership for most people, it is easy to see how and why the gap between whites and blacks is so wide.

In order to understand why the average white household has more wealth in their homes than black households, you can go back to the various Homestead Acts of the late 1800s, but a look at more recent policies will do.  All you need to do is go back to the late 40s and early 50s to see how government and private sector policies greatly helped one group of people build wealth while intentionally excluding the other.  Directly after World War II, there was a massive home construction boom.  In part, this was the result of the GI Bill.  Benefits of the GI Bill included low-cost mortgages, low-interest loans to start a business, cash payments of tuition and living expenses to attend university, high school or vocational education, as well as one year of unemployment compensation. By 1956, 2.2 million Americans had used the GI Bill to attend college and another 5.6 million used it for some kind of training program.   Besides almost no global competition, the GI Bill is regarded as the main factor in creating what would become the largest middle class in the world by the mid-1950s.  A middle class that was exclusively white.  

While the GI Bill did not specifically discriminate against blacks, it was administered and overseen by whites and rarely given to black veterans.  By 1946 of the 100,000 black veterans who applied for the GI Bill to attend college, only 20,000 were granted.  Of the 67,000 low-cost mortgages administered under the GI Bill, only 100 went to blacks.  Because of the all-white American Legion and VFW’s strong ties to the VA, blacks were largely excluded from the benefits available to white veterans.  To make matters worse, banks and mortgage companies refused to lend to blacks making the GI Bill a worthless benefit to them.

This intentional exclusion from the GI Bill and its benefits had and continues to have effects on the wealth gap between whites and blacks.  Because of the government’s and bank’s direct involvement in helping white veterans get better educated, they were able to get better-paying jobs.  Because white veterans were able to purchase affordable housing, they were able to not only save but build wealth over time.  While opportunities for white households were being created and nurtured, opportunities for black households didn’t exist.  This was/is especially true for housing.

Levittown, New York is a good example of how whites were able to build wealth through the GI Bill and racial discrimination.  Levittown is a suburb on Long Island that was built specifically to fill the need for housing after WWII and to take advantage of the mortgage benefits offered to veterans through the GI Bill and FHA.  Levittown was a planned community built between 1947-1951 by William Levitt, considered the father of modern suburbia.  By 1951, Levitt and Sons built over 17,000 homes in Levittown and the surrounding areas.  None of these homes sold to blacks.  In fact, Levittown had racially restrictive deeds that prevented anyone from selling their home to minorities.  If a black family who couldn’t get a loan from a bank or help from the FHA had cash, they weren’t allowed to purchase a home in Levittown.  This didn’t happen just in Levittown but in thousands of subdivisions around the country.  

While white families were building wealth in their homes in subdivisions like Levittown, blacks were forced to rent in very specific, often rundown areas.  While whites were using the GI Bill to college and technical degrees which opened up opportunities for good paying jobs, blacks were excluded from these keeping their economic status stagnant and low.  While whites increased their earnings potential and saw their homes rise in value, increasing the local tax base, this allowed for better schools for their children to be built.  Because blacks were forced to rent often in run-down areas, they were at mercy of local and state policies that didn’t care about improving the educational opportunities for their children.  Even though Brown v Board of Education was decided in 1956, areas like Levittown did not integrate.  As late as 1960, no blacks lived in Levittown and even today, some sixty-eight years after the first home was built there, less than 1% of its residents are black. 

How did this segregation effect economic disparities?  In the late 40s, early 50s, if you were white, you could move into places like Levittown with assistance from the government.  This assistance not only allowed you to own your own home and build wealth as its value appreciated over time, but it kept your costs down.  With government help, white families in Levittown spent $60 a month on their mortgage while homeowners in other areas who were not able to take advantage of FHA or VA help paid $75 a month for a similar home.  That is 20% less each month homeowners in Levittown had to spend on their mortgages.  If you were a black family who was lucky enough to get a mortgage on a home, not only did you pay more the same home, you often paid a lot more because the interest rate was much higher.   For a black family, this meant there was less money to save or invest.

Fast forward a couple of generations and you can see why the average white household has nineteen times more wealth than the average black household.  Those homes in Levittown and in white suburbs across the country increased in value.  A home that cost $7,990 in 1950 is now worth $300,000+ in Levittown.  If your parents or grandparents bought a home in Levittown in the early 50s, their worth increased by roughly three hundred thousand dollars if they still own their home.  Even if they sold their home anytime between 1980 and 2007, they still made a lot of money.  The policies and opportunities that allowed them to invest in a home, something black families of their generation were unable to do greatly increased their wealth.  When you add the policies and opportunities whites received to get better educated, it is easy to see how and why their wealth is nineteen times greater than blacks. 

There were additional advantages to being able to own your own home that helped increase the wealth gap between whites and blacks.  Because whites were able to purchase homes, they were able to leverage the value of their homes if they needed.  If you purchased a home in 1950 for $8000 and by the time your children are getting ready to attend college, the value of your home increased significantly and if you didn’t have the money to pay tuition, you could leverage the increased value of your home by taking out a second mortgage and use that money to invest or pay for your children’s education.  Since they were forced to either rent or own homes in areas that didn’t appreciate in value like homes in white neighborhoods, black families didn’t have an asset to leverage. Because of the direct, intentional assistance by the government to their parents, white children in places like Levittown grew up with a distinct economic advantage black children didn’t have.  With this advantage, they were able to get better educations, better jobs, purchase their own homes and pass this advantage to their children. 

If you want to know why the average white household has $142,000 of wealth and the average black household only $11,000, home ownership is one of the main reasons.  It isn’t because whites are smarter or harder workers.  It isn’t because blacks are “lazy.”  It is because whites were intentionally aided by the government.  It is because whites got a lot of assistance and subsidies along the way to help them build a strong financial base.  It is because blacks were intentionally excluded from almost all of the programs that helped whites build their wealth.  This is the reason why there is a huge wealth gap between whites and blacks.  There are direct causes, causes outside of black families’ control that are the reasons behind their lack of economic success, lower test scores, higher unemployment, etc.  It is not because of personal choices.  It is not because of lack of moral fiber.  It is not because of a poor work ethic.  It is because the system was and in many ways still is designed to limit their opportunities to succeed.  

Even though it is now illegal to discriminate when it comes to housing, education, and employment, it still happens on a large scale. Leading up to the financial crisis, minority borrowers were often charged much higher interest rates.  This means their costs were higher and they had to purchase a less expensive home than a white person with similar credit scores/income.  If a black family’s income allows them to afford a $200,000 home but because of a higher interest rate they have to settle on one that costs $150,000, the long-term impact is significant.  Take two families, one white, one black.  They both make the same income, but because lenders charge the black family a higher interest rate, they can’t afford the same home.  The white family buys a home worth $200,000.  The black family buys one for $150,000.  Even if they live in the very same neighborhood and their homes appreciate in value equally, ten years down the road the white family has increased their wealth a good margin over the black family, even though they both earn the same income.  After 10 years at 5% appreciation a year, the white family’s home will be worth $325,000 and the black family’s will be worth $244,000.  Two identical incomes, two very different outcomes.  Go back to when black people couldn’t even purchase homes in white neighborhoods and the difference is $325,000 to $0.  This is why the wealth disparity between whites and blacks is so large.

Even though it is illegal to discriminate, have racially restrictive deeds, redline…policies still exist that make it more difficult for blacks to purchase homes.  One of the ways this is done is through credit scoring.  Because of starting from an economic disadvantage, many minorities have lower credit scores than whites.  This isn’t because of their lack of responsibility, but rather their lower starting point.  If a white family gets into financial difficulty, say one of the parents loses their job, if they have a home with equity, they can tap into it and use it to pay their bills while another job is found.  If their oldest needs braces, they can use the value of their home to help make the payments and on time.  Black families, on average, do not have this safety net so when difficult financial times occur, they often get behind on payments which negatively affects their credit.  Financial institutions know this and use it to their advantage to charge higher rates for the people who are most vulnerable.  

I witness first hand how credit scores were used to harm those who could least afford it.  When I worked at an insurance agency, we did a lot of marketing to very specific areas in Detroit.  Areas where the people kept up their homes and had been living there for many years.  Areas that didn’t have a lot of damage claims.  These areas were predominately black. When we ran an estimate on someone who lived in these area’s auto or home insurance, the determining factor in how much they paid, if they hadn’t had prior claims, was their credit score.  Someone who had never made an insurance claim in thirty years could pay significantly higher premiums if their credit score wasn’t high enough.  Insurance is something you have to pay for or you don’t get it.  It shouldn’t matter what your credit score is.  If you fail to make a payment, it is canceled.  Why would you charge someone more for a six-month policy if they have a lower credit score?  The answer is because they can.  When insurance companies could no longer charge higher rates based on neighborhoods or zip codes; redlining, they came up with a way to charge higher rates to the very same people; credit scoring. This is how racism survives after an avenue for it is shut down.  It morphs into a new policy that accomplishes pretty much the same as the one that was stopped.  The racist views and policies that prevented black families from places like Levittown to purchase homes and create wealth still exist and still have the same effect, they have just taken on new forms.

Add mass incarceration policies targeting blacks and it is easy to see the financial repercussions all of these have had on the economic outcomes for black families.

When someone tells me the reasons white households have nineteen times more wealth than black households is because whites work harder and blacks are lazy or whites care more about education than blacks or whites made better choices, I am certain they don’t know what they are talking about.  They don’t understand the history of home ownership in America.  They don’t understand the causes of the wealth disparities between whites and blacks, they only focus on the effects.  The causes are fairly obvious.  They aren’t difficult to grasp.  But, in order to understand the causes, white people have to admit they have specifically benefited from government and private policies at the expense of minorities.  They have to admit black people are not poor because they choose to be poor, but because we, as a country, have intentionally made and continue to keep them poor.  White Americans have to admit they are the cause of the economic effects on black families.  White America doesn’t want to do this.  They don’t want to admit they are often the problem when it comes to the struggles and situations minorities face each and every day.  Instead, they come up with bullshit reasons why blacks are inferior because it is easier to blame someone else for your actions than look into the mirror.  Easier, but outright immoral.  To be the cause of someone’s struggles, someone’s difficulties and blame them for their situation is seriously fucked up.


give into forever

Summary: Of Halloween nights, a brown-eyed boy who haunts a graveyard, and the small sort of bravery it takes to fall in love.

For a lovely anon who requested a Halloween AU.

The graveyard next to Will Solace’s house is haunted.

The problem is, no one believes him. He’s six years old, almost seven, and plenty old enough to be taken seriously, thank you very much. But instead, whenever he mentions the boy that lives between the graves, adults just laugh and ruffle his hair and call him “cute.”

Well. Will may be cute, but he’s also right. The graveyard is haunted. He knows it.

Keep reading

“Shit I’ve Said” RP Starters

“Wine is the only reason I want to grow up.”

“I can repel my friends!”

“A new baby! I’m gonna sell it.”

“Custard is complementary. Yogurt is free.”

“Humping is in the eye of the beholder…”

“But he’s going to get shot! And then his wife’s going to get shot! Then someone else is going to get shot. Then they’re all going to SMILE!”

“I sent the frog to God!”

“I think my feet can run for re-election, if they want.”

“I… support… anal.”

“Certain things I do… should not be shared.”

“I know, but… I don’t like drawing pictures!”

“I mean, we weren’t… much to behold”

“____ I’m dating a ROCKET!”

“Float on by, ____ ____… float on by.”

“It’s like you’re expecting a kitten and you see a TIGER!”

“I have a kink for being a grownup! It’s called GROWNUP KINK!”

“It’s not rage! It’s love!”

“My ____ gives shits, she just gives WEIRD shits.”

Don’t dread! Dread leads to dead.”

“I’m gonna retire and go straight to the 1800s.”

“My hair is like, a literal curtain of misery!”

“Ride the butt train! All the way to hell.”

“You know… that’s a stereotype. About skeletons.”

“Where is it? Where is your wish??”

“There was a full moon last night, so I had to do all sorts of crazy shit.”

“Put your horses back in your tits.”

“You can come get me and take me out to lunch! And then put me back.”

“Oh look, ____’s being spiritual. Or is he just waiting for the dog to poo.”

“There’s nothing you can do about falling off a bridge except not do it.”

“AAAAH! Baloogie Mellow saw me!!”

“I’mma cut a little goo boy.”

“Stop manipulating the menfolk!”

“I was gonna flip you off but then I realized you were right so then I just pointed at the sky.”

“I would love to fuck someone in here. But like, not sexually.”

“As I explore these lands… I look for children to abduct.”

There was a brief period when aluminum was the most precious metal in the world.

Specifically, the period between when we figured out how to refine it and when we figured out how to refine it quickly and cheaply

If you were to go back in time to most of the 19th century and told the people about drinking soda or beer from aluminum cans, they would look at you like you had just explained you regularly buy fabulously jeweled golden drinking goblets by the dozen, each of which you use exactly once before crumpling up and throwing away.

The worldwide production of aluminum from its initial isolation until the late 1800s amounted to mere ounces per month, so only the very wealthiest in the world could afford it, and even they couldn’t afford much. The Emperor Napoleon III is said to have had special sets of aluminum cutlery to honor his favorite dinner guests; everyone else had to settle for gold. There were no aluminum dishes or plates, though. Not even an emperor had enough aluminum lying around to eat off it.

If you want to know how big of a deal aluminum was, just consider the obvious phallic imagery of the Washington Monument. You know what’s at the capstone of it? A six pound block of aluminum. This was once considered to be the highest possible expression of the United States’s economic and industrial might: we have six pounds of aluminum, and we’re sticking it where no one can see it but God and His angels.

Granted, aluminum was not actually quite as rare or precious by that point, mostly due to growing industrial production in the United States. Its price at the time was comparable to silver’s. So it was less “we have so much money we can throw this much away at the top of a giant obelisk” and more “look, we figured out how to make this stuff”.

And the more aluminum was turned out by industrial refineries, the more uses we found for it, which made large-scale refinement more profitable, which made more available for use…

And that’s how we got to the point where drunk frat boys can smash drinking vessels against their foreheads that once would have made them the envy of the crowned heads of Europe.