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peanuts-and-pickles · 3 years

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So I have ADHD

which means i procrastinate. Well. Let me tell you. this procrastination of mine can lead to unexpected genius. For instance, today i solved a mystery no one needed solving, and wasn’t really a mystery in the first place. Ok.

I was in class, and we are doing this mini-unit on Hitler, right? so anyways i’m like imma google this bitch Hindenburg. So i did. And looooookkkk at thisssssss

(Ok that name tho) if im not mistaken (which i very well might be, my math skills are notoriously shitty) , he was buried like, 12 YEARS AFTER HE DIED!!!! what does one do with the body of a German president for twelve years?? (Granted the world was a little busy what with WW2 happening and all) anyway, my teacher didn’t know, and Googling this mystery was not helpful. But, after lots of scrolling through dead president pictures, translating German documents to english, and many wikipedia articles, I solved it. (plus reading the entirety of the Nuremberg law PDF) So here we go. (yall probably already know this but im dumb so this was interesting for me at least)

So after our friend Paul died, Hitler became dictator, signed away the use of a parliament, and so on. But meanwhile, Paul here was lying in state at this very fancy house.

(thats him by the way) He stayed there for like 2 days and then everyone agreed it was time to put ol’ pauly to rest. They did. at the Tannenburg memorial, which is now a field btw. This thing.

anyway they buried him in the middle, against his wishes. (He wanted to be with his wife). he stayed there for one year. And then, one the anniversary of his birthday, Hitler ordered him to be moved to a room under the south tower. (which was a huge ordeal, they had to dig up like 30 soldiers plus the president, and lower the whole tower by like 8 inches) Finally, they brought his wife to be there with him. Buutttt that didn’t last. In 1945, soviet forces were moving towards this memorial, and Hitler ordered the bodies to be moved. Again.

so.

To a bunker they went! Also Mr. Paul had a bronze coffin, and it was starting to rust. Another deep dive for another time.

Anyway so they’re at this bunker, (Hindenburg and his wife’s bodies) and Hitler is starting to get worried because well, Germany didn’t win WW2. (Spoiler alert) anyways, he has them moved again, to a salt mine, almost 1,800 feet underground. He is there joined by some other dead guys, including the late king of prusia. The Germans hastily marked the coffins with red crayon, and got the hell out. This is where the PDFs came in handy for my research. Wikipedia was no longer doing the subject justice.

(Fascinating read btw, I recommend it) But basically, to sum it up, American troops broke into this deep underground salt mine, opened a 6-foot thick wall, and found some dead dudes covered in swastika flags. Anyways, the Americans were like “oooo dead german president and his wife? yes please.” And since no one was gonna stop them, they took him. No idea what happened to King Fredric or the other guy tho, sorry.

But the Americans stole him and stashed him in the basement of this castle in somewhere-i-can’t-pronounce-or-spell Germany. And then, finally, after 12 years, they laid Paul Ludwig Hans Anton von Beneckendorff und von Hindenburg to rest at St. Elizabeth church, where he still is today. Here, have a picture of this insanely creepy church:

and a picture of the Tannenberg Memorial as it is today:

(Germans blew it up)

So yeah, you dont care about all that, and nether did my class when i explained why i wasn’t paying attention, but... i digress. Very vague history. I recommend looking into this more on your own. I thought it was cool. found out where a dead guy went for twelve years! yay! I wonder if he smelled when they opened his coffin at the salt mine

Wait a min isn’t Beneckendorff the name of that percy jackson dude

#long post #rant #rabit hole #Paul von hindenburg #germany #hitler #history facts #please correct me if i'm wrong #cool history facts #world war two #i don't know how to tag this so people will see it #just reblog please i gues

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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813

When was the last time you baked something for someone? It was like 2011 or something. My parents had bought a new oven and my sister and I wanted to ~baptize it by baking cookies. Our cookies honestly didn’t taste like anything but our relatives were really nice to praise us about them anyway.

Do you ever spend the night at random people’s houses? I would never do that, that sounds so dangerous lol. I only ever spend the night at my best friends’.

What did you eat for dinner tonight? Was it any good at all? It was pork in some sort of coconut sauce. It was insanely good but when I asked my dad what it was, he just smiled at me which leads me to think he just experimented and invented the dish lol.

What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? I don’t like it when my mom barges into rooms without knocking and when she’s being fat-phobic and racist. My dad occasionally has brief spurts of being agitated with everyone and he’ll proceed to have comments about every single thing going on around him, and that can get pretty damn annoying.

Would you be mad if your mom showed your boyfriend your baby pictures? If my mom showed my *girlfriend my baby pictures, I wouldn’t be annoyed. I don’t see why I would be, they’re just photos.

Would you say you’re someone who has good manners? Yes. I honestly pride myself on that fact because I’ve seen so many people my age who lack basic manners. I may not be close with my mom but she raised me very well when it comes to this.

When was the last time you went to an amusement park? Which one? I went to a school fair last January if that counts. If we’re talking about legit amusement parks, it was in 2013 when we went to Universal Studios in Singapore and Legoland in Malaysia.

Would you rather be kissed on the neck or on the lips? I’d normally prefer neck, but I haven’t been kissed on the lips for so long that I’d pick that for now.

Do you completely trust the person you’re dating? Very much.

Has someone ever called you heartless before? Why is that? My mom. Idk, she was being her.

What color was the shirt you wore yesterday? Gray, but it had a rainbow heart on the top left side.

Have you ever completely given up on someone any time in life? Kind of, yeah. Very early on I had given up on the possibility of my mom changing her ways and tendencies. Ever since coming to terms with that fact, it’s been easier to tolerate the verbal abuse. I’ve also given up on the possibility of one of my uncles turning his life around for the better, permanently.

What is one thing you’re not looking forward to in the next week? More days of being stuck at home.

Would you consider Christmas your favorite holiday? It is not and it hasn’t been for a very long time.

Would you rather give someone presents or receive them? Receive. I’m perpetually anxious about whether someone likes my gifts or not so giving is always stressful for me; whereas when I receive presents I always, always love them whatever they may be.

How many chances do you normally give someone before giving up on them? One, usually. I’m not very patient with people who mess up lol.

Did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? Yes, but they didn’t decide on a name until the very moment that they had to write down a name while filing for my birth certificate. Ever since they revealed that to me, I’ve always been conditioned to think that my name was a super clutch decision lmao. It’s fine though because I’m happy with my name.

Are any of your really close friends pregnant right now? No, I’m very sure none of them are. Then again, the people I went to high school with who have kids now kept their pregnancies a secret, so I honestly never know who’s currently pregnant.

Are you for or against inter-racial relationships? Anyone who is against it is a traditional asshole.

Would you say you’re more of a pessimist or optimist? Depends on the situation. I can always be either.

Do you know what your true typing speed is? What is it? I mean I’ve taken some tests before and if I bring my A-game I can do 85-95 words per minute. I never have to type that fast in real life though so my average typing speed is probably slightly slower than that.

What would you say is the longest survey you’ve ever taken? I did so many attempts to do the 5000-question survey but I never finished it lol. My longest survey was probably 500 questions back when I had just discovered surveys and wanted to take the longest ones available.

Do you get bored by things really easily, or not so much? I’d say I get bored fast. I think it’s because I’ve never really had good things stick with me for a long time and they’re always taken away from me so soon, so now, whenever I enjoy stuff I think my brain just kinda self-sabotages the whole situation and makes me bored with them so that I can move past them with no problem.

Do you hate it when people pronounce ‘potatoes’ as ‘taters?’ No. I didn’t even know they mean the same thing until right now lol, I just thought taters was some sort of American term.

Have you ever been addicted to something unhealthy? I’ve never been legitimately addicted to anything, no.

Do you wear a lot of make-up on a daily basis? I wear no makeup on a daily basis. < Same.

Who makes the best desserts in your entire family? My uncle Afay. He posts his masterpieces on his Facebook and they allllllways look so good whether it’s cheesecake, dream cakes, cream puffs, crinkles, etc. Sometimes when I heart-react his food posts, he’ll even tell me to drop by his place after school so he can give me some :)

When was the last time your received a hug? Who was this hug from? March 7th. Gabie. This lack of hugs is so not good for me lmao.

Do you have good dreams or nightmares more? I have weird dreams most often. They’re neither good nor bad, it’s just random people showing up doing things I’ll never expect them to do in real life haha.

Would you rather color pictures with markers or crayons? Crayons. Markers use up a lot of ink and I’d feel weird using all that up just to color a picture; I’d rather use markers to simply write stuff.

Do people come to you for advice a lot of the time? Not all the time but I do get a fair amount of that kind of message.

When the holidays come around, do you watch holiday movies? Not always. I watch them year-round. Would you say you’re a friendly person or not so much? I’m friendly with everybody but I hold back to a certain extent. At the end of the day I still choose which people I wanna be my true self, or show my true personality, with.

Have you ever / do you ever recycle? Sometimes, though out of the 3R’s I do reduce the most.

When was the last time you ate something from Burger King? Sometime shortly before the quarantine. I think it was in February.

When someone mentions a song, does it make you wanna listen to it? Only if it’s a song I already know and like.

Do you usually talk more than you should about things? Yep, have a pretty big mouth. I’ve been scolded for it more than once.

Who is the nosiest person you know? Do you like them anyways? Mils can be such a social climber and always wants to be in the know about everything so that she can understand references and look cool. Idk, it’s hard to like her because she tries so hard. I’m always nice to her though because she hasn’t done anything bad to me.

When did you last talk to one of your teachers? Like...from high school? Man, I have no clue. The day of my graduation, probably. I noped the fuck out of that place and out of that culture the second I got my diploma.

How many class periods does your school have? What are the classes? We have hundreds of classes in my university so it’ll be impossible and incredibly time- and space-consuming to list them all down. During the time I was in high school we had English, Filipino, Math (a different specialization for every year), Social Studies/History (same as math), Science (same thing), Christian Living Education (because Catholic school lol), Philosophy in senior year, Health, Home Economics/Accounting, Homeroom, and some local class where we were basically taught how to be charitable to the less fortunate (because again, Catholic school). I don’t know if I was able to recall all the classes but that’s a good chunk of them. We typically had 7-8 classes in a day that would last 45 minutes each.

Would you say you’re a faster or slow learner? Depends on what I’m learning. For instance, I’m quick at learning stuff that can be memorized or read from a book like history, law, biology, etc. but you’ll have to be incredibly patient with me when it comes to teaching me something like sewing or origami.

Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? I’ve never seen it.

Do you fully understand the concept of ‘love?’ Probably not yet. I have an idea of it now, but that can always change. After all, I’m still incredibly young and have lots of unknown lessons yet to pick up.

#survey #surveys

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aquaquadrant · 5 years

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Exiled Au - Part 5

surprise! i finally finished the last one-shot for the exiled!varian au i started writing ages ago, inspired by art from @ghosta-r. all the previous chapters and the art that inspired them can be found on my blogged, tagged as exiled!varian au. i’m going to start working on getting all of the chapters uploaded to my A03 within the new few days!

also, i’m going to consider this completed for the time being, but i left it open enough that if inspiration happens to strike me again in the future, i can continue with more one-shot type chapters. however, it won’t ever be a full out fic, so PLEASE don’t ask me to continue! hope you enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do! - Aqua

Rated T for: depiction of violence, mild injury

It was two days before Varian found another town.

Two days of following a road through thicker and thicker wilderness, of snarling branches catching on his clothes and stones in the ground underfoot and glowing eyes watching him from the forest and reminding him painfully of Ruddiger. Two days of eating nothing but the odd few berries he found growing on bushes, of drinking from streams and sleeping in trees.

He almost cried with relief when he saw the town, but he managed to hold it back. He was already dehydrated, after all.

Varian tucked his coat up all the way to his chin and pulled his hood tightly over his head. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself before walking into the town.

The streets were populated but not overtly so. He got a couple glances but nothing more than that. It was a homely little town, with dirt streets instead of cobblestone, thatched houses instead of wood. A few carts were set up in a wide market square, a light chatter filling the air as people examined the wares. But Varian wasn’t interested in that as much as he was the building with a sign hanging over the door reading, food.

He hurried towards it, trying to walk casually but probably failing. Inside was a cozy sort of mess hall, warm from a large hearth against one wall and filled with long wooden tables and benches. His attention was caught by a woman standing behind a counter, taking a customer’s order.

Food. Varian quickly stepped into line, his stomach already growling at the scents drifting in the air. After a minute that seemed to stretch on forever, it was his turn to order.

The woman behind the counter looked him up and down, wrinkling her nose. “You some kind of wizard or something?” she asked, nodding at his staff.

“No, ma’am,” Varian murmured, scanning the wooden sign hanging up behind her. “Could I please get a bowl of porridge?”

The woman squinted at him, doubtful.

“I can pay for it,” Varian added quietly, reaching for the coin pouch in his bag. The coins he’d earned working for Jonathan, the ones he’d tried to refuse but Jonathan insisted-

“Hey, you there!”

Varian froze at the harsh, unfamiliar voice. Oh god, please, no-

“I’m talkin’ to you, boy!” A hand roughly grabbed Varian by the shoulder and turned him around.

Varian found himself facing a thoroughly unpleasant looking man. Angry, too. He gulped. “Yes, sir?”

The man scowled. “I knew it. You’re that criminal, aren’t you? The Alchemist?”

Varian’s heart sank. “Sir, please,” he whispered, “I’m not looking for any trouble. I just want to buy some food.”

“That so?” the man demanded, disbelieving. He caught sight of the coin pouch in Varian’s bag and grabbed it out, his features darkening. “You probably stole this, didn’t you?”

“Hey!” Varian cried, trying in vain to get the pouch back, the man holding it easily out of his reach. “I earned that! Please!”

“Yeah, right,” the man scoffed. “Come on, boys, let’s show this lowlife how we treat criminals around here.”

The next thing Varian knew, two pairs of hands wrapped around his arms, pulling him away from the counter and dragging him toward the door. He fought to get free to no avail, his legs kicking in the air. Someone opened the door, and with a great heave, the men threw Varian outside onto the street.

He landed badly on his foot, a sharp pain flooding up his leg and making him cry out. His staff landed on the ground next to him a moment later, one of the vials shattering in a spray of glass and pink liquid. A bit of it caught Varian across his face- fortunately, non-toxic. He blinked, rubbing the chemical off his face.

“And stay out!”

The door slammed shut.

Shakily, Varian rose to his feet, leaning on his staff. It hurt to put his full weight on his foot- probably a sprain. Hopefully just a sprain. He didn’t have time to check it properly, though. Wary and disapproving eyes watching him from all corners of the square, and he knew he’d worn out his welcome.

Taking a breath, Varian started to painfully make his way down the street, to the road leading out of the town.

Maybe he’d have better luck in the next town.

Varian backed against the wall of the alley, sneering men closing in all around him.

Fortunately, the next town had been nearby; not even a full day’s walk, which was especially good for his bad leg. Unfortunately, they’d been just as receptive as the last town- which was to say, not at all receptive. Varian hadn’t even made it into a building to attempt to buy food before a small mob had set after him, chasing him into an alley.

“Please, sirs,” he begged, clutching his staff to his chest protectively, “I’m just- I’m just passing through. I- I don’t want any trouble, I’ll go, I promise.”

“Aye.” One of the men cracked his knuckles. “We’ll send you on your way.”

The first punch was to the gut. Varian keeled over, gasping for breath, his staff clattering to the ground. The rest of them joined in, and Varian’s world exploded into pain as he crumpled. The alley wall was behind him, men on every side, no chance of escape. A kick to the head, a punch to the ribs, a foot stomping on his already bad leg.

Varian didn’t resist. He simply curled in on himself and waited for it to be over.

Finally, blessedly, the men seemed satisfied with the damage inflicted. They dispersed casually, with a few parting jeers directed at Varian. One of them lingered and delivered a final kick to Varian’s stomach.

“Let that be a warnin’. Don’t show your face ‘round these parts again, criminal,” he spat.

The man walked off, his footsteps echoed off the alley walls and fading. Varian laid there for a long time, breathing raggedly through his nose, trying to string thoughts together through the pain screaming in his mind.

He’d definitely heard something snap, but the pain was all over and impossible to distinguish. With careful, shaking hands, he went about checking himself, feeling for broken bones. He winced as he touched tender, forming bruises, but he wasn’t finding anything. At least, not until his hand patted against his coat pocket; he felt two distinct shapes where he knew only one to be. Swallowing, he reached inside his pocket and withdrew its contents.

The orange crayon had snapped into two.

Varian’s breathing hitched. He stared at the pieces for a moment, uncomprehending, before his hand curled around the broken halves of the crayon. A sob welled up in his throat.

It was a small thing. A simple thing. But it was one small, simple thing on top of a lot more and altogether it was too much. It was just too much. How much lower could they lay him? He’d already lost and suffered and hurt. When would it be enough? Why wasn’t it enough?

Varian sagged into the ground, his cheek pressed against cold, hard stone. If he just laid there, the temperature might drop enough overnight to kill him- no, get up, you’ve lasted this long. You don’t get to give up, you don’t have that right. His life wasn’t his to throw away; it’d been granted to him. To cast it away ungratefully would mean being a bigger failure than he could handle.

Bracing himself, Varian rolled onto his hands and knees. The pain from the movement made him gasp, a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth. His bad leg was in agony, and he could already tell it wouldn’t take his weight. His staff was within reach, however, and none the worse for wear. He snatched it up and slowly rose to his feet, a few tears streaking down his face.

Leaning heavily on his staff, Varian glanced around. The streets were still abandoned, nothing to impede his leaving town. But as clearly as he could see the road leading away, he could see the forest it cut through. The wild, untamed, hidden path of the wilderness.

People… were no longer safe. He knew that now. Trying the same thing over and over again while expecting different results was the definition of insanity, and he knew he had to give this up while he was still sane. Following the road to the next town over would be pointless. He had to make his own way, at least until he was far enough away from Corona that no one would know of the criminal Alchemist.

Varian shoved the broken crayon back into his pocket, tightened his grip on his staff, and started walking.

It was harder, traveling off the road.

The forest was dense and unforgiving. Rolling, uneven ground, peppered with rocks and tree roots and all sorts of things to trip Varian up. Bushes and branches scratched at him, snagging on his clothes. Animals rustling through the trees and sending him on edge. And the rougher terrain was even more unkind on his bad leg, making his limp that more pronounced.

And yet, it was still better than the alternative. Still better than finally finding a town only to get thrown out.

Varian didn’t know to what end he was traveling. So he was avoiding human civilization; now what? What kind of life did he expect to make for himself out here? He was hardly an outdoorsman. All he had was his knowledge of the chemical foundations of nature and little snippets of wisdom imparted to him by Dad-

Varian shook his head violently, cutting the thought down before it could take root. He couldn’t get distracted. He’d figure something out. He couldn’t give up now, after everything he’d been through. He had to keep going.

It was hard to keep a sense of direction. Trees and boulders and hills blurred together into one endless landscape. He was starting to lose feeling in his fingers and toes- except for his bad leg, which was burning with infection.

Varian ignored it. He ignored the stiff ache all over his body, too. He ignored the gnawing hunger in his stomach, the dryness of his throat. Humans were far more resilient than most gave credit for. They could push themselves far beyond their normal limits when their life depended on it. And if he repeated that fact to himself over and over again, he might just make it to morning without-

Something caught on his foot, and Varian nearly faceplanted, a startled yelp cutting though the silence of the forest. He managed to brace himself with his staff, hissing painfully through clenched teeth as he examined what he’d tripped on.

Curiously, it was an old wagon wheel, rusted and mostly overgrown with weeds. Varian tilted his head at it, frowning, before looking around warily. There didn’t seem to be any roads nearby, but he spotted an opening in the tree line up ahead. Cautiously, he started to creep toward it. If there was a road, he’d want to go in a different direction, lest he accidentally wander into-

A log cabin sat in a small clearing. It was modest, not much bigger than his storage shed back home, with boarded up windows and moss growing in odd nooks and crannies.

Varian stared at it for a moment, waiting for his vision to stop going in and out, just to make sure it was really there. Bewildered, he looked around, wondering if he’d stumbled into yet another town. But the cabin was the only building visible, the rest of the area filled with dense trees.

Chewing his lip, Varian hesitated. The cabin looked completely abandoned- but what if it wasn’t?

But if it was, he might’ve just found a way to avoid freezing to death.

Making up his mind, Varian carefully approached the door, trying to stay as quiet as possible despite his limp. He came to a stop, swallowed, and tentatively knocked on the door.

“H- hello? Is there anyone in here?”

No response.

Taking a deep breath, Varian grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. It gave with no resistance, seeming to not have a lock, and it creaked as it went. The cabin’s interior was dark, illuminated only by the light Varian let in. And most importantly, it was empty.

It looked like it’d been empty for a long, long time. Dust coated the floor, cobwebs tucked into the corners. The only furniture was a rickety wooden bed with a ratty mattress, straw spilling out of rips in the fabric, and a small tabled pushed up against the wall, with a barrel for a seat. But most important was the stone fireplace on the far wall, coated in old soot.

Fireplace. Fire. Warmth. Not freezing to death.

Varian stumbled inside, pulling the door closed behind him. The light in the room immediately decreased to almost nothing, but luckily, he had the faintly glowing vials on his staff to light his way. His mind started racing as he examined the fireplace. He was in no condition to go foraging for firewood, but he had a wooden bedframe that looked about ready to fall over at a sneeze.

Painstakingly, Varian pulled the mattress off the frame and set about taking it apart. He was right in guessing it was structurally unsound; he didn’t have to pull hard at all to snap the wooden planks into smaller pieces. He carried them to the fireplace and dumped them inside, easing himself to the floor as he tried to light it with two thin strips of the wood.

Finally, there was a spark, and the wood caught fire. In a few minutes, the fireplace was roaring away, filling the cabin with a warm flickering glow and the soothing sound of crackling wood. Varian breathed a sigh of relief, sinking onto the straw mattress.

A safe, warm place to sleep. On a mattress, not up in a tree or on the ground. This was just what he needed; a good night’s sleep to rest and heal, and then tomorrow he’d be ready to move, go foraging for food. Once he was stronger, he could…

Well, where else could he go after this? Should he go anywhere else? The cabin would keep him protected from the elements and wild animals, but away from people. Maybe… this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Alone.

Varian pulled the broken crayon out of his pocket, studying the two pieces. He’d tried moving on, starting over. People clearly didn’t want him around, despite his best efforts, despite how sorry he was, despite how much he wanted things to be different.

Only now did he understand that he was right; the king sparing his life might’ve been out of misguided mercy, but his true punishment was to live out the rest of his days alone. It was exile in the deepest sense of the word; not just from a single place, but from everywhere, everyone. An exile from the world.

Varian tossed the broken crayon into the fire.

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #exiled!varian au #my writing #rta #varian

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