#this isn't... to say that dogs are not people for the record

[wereshrew-admirer]

man... i'm going to be so messed up when after spending two years (or however long it takes) thinking about/depicting It is a child, sangfielle two begins and they immediately treat it like an non-sentient pet.

#this is the curse that i see in my future #maybe i'm wrong that'd be nice #austin DID make it talk #dre DID have chine insist that it could talk #art DID describe It as a ward #obviously i think there's justification for seeing It as a kid but so many people call it Chine's Weird Dog... #you know what i'd love to see though? #a repeat of that counterweight scene where cass punches a guy for objectifying audy #duvall punches a guy for calling It his pet #mmm #broken record voice #i guess idk #this isn't... to say that dogs are not people for the record #its to acknowedege that most people view relationships with dogs differently then they do to children and i think It is the latter #thank you for coming to my ted talk i know nobody asked for this but here i am thinking it out loud anyway #addition: actually i don't want that scene i think duvall is shrewd (...) enough to let that sort of thing go #but i want duvall to WANT to punch somebody over it y'know?

[salt-baby]

Medical IDS

I'm about to buy a new medical ID, so I figured I'd share how I get those and what I put on them.

There are some companies which produce custom jewelry-style medical IDs, but I'm a little scared of breaking those and my health changes too often for that to be a practical expense, so I personally buy dog tags. I let people who I spend the most time around know that I'm wearing a medical ID. Almost all paramedics check the wrist, and some will check for a necklace (where I wear mine). I wouldn't recommend wearing a medical ID anywhere else.

The following information is what I put on there:

Full Name - This doesn't necessarily have to be your legal name, but should be the name that your medical chart is attached to.

Medical Conditions - Specifically, this should be conditions which can render you unable to explain yourself, either because your condition can make you unconscious, too disoriented, or create barriers in communication. My conditions include hypoglycemia, allergies, and POTS. Other conditions that fit this criteria might include diabetes, seizure disorders, narcolepsy, some cardiovascular diseases, etc. It may be helpful to include something like mutism or being deaf, if it would make it easier to explain yourself in an emergency. This site provides a good list (although their EDS information better applies to other subtypes, I include hEDS on mine because it's short to write.)

Medications - usually, blood thinners and Epipens. Off the top of my head, I might also recommend immunosuppressants, anything implanted (ports, insulin pumps, CGMs, pacemakers), and any uncommon meds or meds with dangerous drug interactions.

Emergency Contact - This should be someone who lives within an hour of you, and who you talk to frequently enough that they can help fill in the blanks on what you've been up to recently. Ideally, this is someone who can say "they stopped taking their meds a few days ago" or "they've had a headache for two weeks". I would highly recommend discussing what you want this person to do in an emergency with them. You should list full name and number for this person.

Other - you may also choose to list here if you have a DNR. Some people also choose to list an explicit "Call 911". You can also choose to give instructions, like "Meds in Wallet" or "Epipen in Bag", but its unlikely these will be seen in an emergency. Realistically, a medical ID isn't for the paramedics - it's for the emergency room.

feel free to send me an ask if you have questions!

#they make some really pretty dog tags like i can get little rainbow flower ones #when i say like full name on the id tag ideally this should be full legal #for some people tho theres a question of whether its worth wearing your deadname around just in case of emergency #my advice is no if your new name will pull up your medical record when searched #regarding eds specifically #my opinion is that heds isn't a high priority to list #anyway #disability #hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome #heds #eds #ehlers danlos syndrome #pots #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #chronic illness #salt baby talks

[trans-xianxian]

it's always good to foster empathy for animals and I think that there are so many creatures that are far more similar to humans than we give them credit for (or perhaps more accurately that humans are not as special as we make ourselves out to be) but anthropomorphism can truly be so dangerous... it's important to remember that humans are Also animals, but other animals are, obviously, Not humans and we lack an ability to communicate with them fully. trying to shove human emotions onto them hurts conservation more than it helps it. you can never actually know what an animal is feeling or what potential feelings mean to an animal. we can Guess, but broad and vague descriptors of behavior are always better than assigning human emotions that can have dangerous implications. a shark is not "angry", it is acting aggressively towards something, a lion is not a cold blooded killer, it is hunting for food. once you try to give animals morals or try to moralize their actions you enter very dangerous territory, especially if you're just like. a random person on the internet and not a scientist that studies animal behavior

#sorry saw a stupid video on youtube about orcas and conservation ben jumped out #it was abt two orcas labeled as serial killers because they were hunting sharks and eating their livers #like first of all its well recorded information that orcas will just eat the liver of a shark! #they do this w other animals too #just eating certain parts of them #but one shark liver isn't enough to fill an orca #so of course they have to hunt multiple #orcas are Notoriously incredible social animals #so of course they hunt together #they are also notoriously persistent #stop making animals seem like humans you're doing more harm than good!!!!! we don't know whats going on in their brains!! #also obviously things like this are different than like. anthropomorphizing your pet cat or whatever #you should be careful about How you think about your pets - at the end of the day they are animals who cannot speak to us #and if you humanize your pet too much #your pet lashing out #one of the only ways it can communicate discomfort or set boundaries with people #can quickly become a moral action in your brain rather than just a behavior #but saying your dog is happy to see you #is different from moralizing wild animals #anyway. #ghost posts #text

[vaspider]

Look. A little advice.

Once you get to a certain amount of Known on the internet or a subsection of it, or even in a subsection of a RL group of people, there are going to be people who will make up a version of you which exists only in their heads and which has absolutely nothing to do with who you are. It might better resemble who you were twenty years ago or it might never have had anything to do at all with who you were then or are now.

You cannot stop this. You cannot prevent this. Once you get a certain number of followers or a certain amount of attention, that's going to happen: people will make up stories about you which either look through a fun-house mirror at some small aspect of who you are and twist it and blow it up until it doesn't resemble you at all, or which just have absolutely no basis in fact whatsoever.

This is just another kind of parasocial relationship; it's the kind which really sucks to deal with, because it's so negative and so pervasive. It's very real, and the frustration you feel about it is very real. Nobody wants to be known incorrectly.

But. You can't control this. It's gonna happen. No matter what you say, no matter how precisely you say it, the people who want to misinterpret you will find a way to do so. This doesn't mean 'don't pay attention to what you say,' or 'don't be purposeful and precise with your language,' but it does mean 'don't obsess over the people who are determined to get you wrong.'

You can be the most anodyne, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable human being, and the people who are determined to hate you will find something that they can point to and say 'ha ha! I told you that Spider danced with the devil at midnight! I witnessed it myself!' (It will not help the situation if you are, say, self-admittedly stubborn as fuck, long-winded, and sometimes kinda fucking obnoxious, but please realize that in the end, it doesn't really matter. This is gonna happen no matter what.)

The people who matter will look at what's being said, wrinkle up their foreheads, and say, 'uh, man, it looks like Spider was actually playing with his dog at 9 am?'

That said, if you don't have elephant-thick skin from being a marginalized-gender human being who's been on the internet since before the web had pictures, there are some things you can do to make it easier when people making things up about you starts to get on your nerves:

Establish protocols for when it becomes too much: have someone read your messages, turn off your notifications, have time where you purposefully disengage.

Establish protocols for how you interact, period: "I will block people without guilt if they engage positively with the people who spread untruths about me." "I will answer everything in public so people can't lie about what I said, because it's right there in public." "I will not answer work-related stuff in DMs, that has to go to the work email." Whatever it is, create some boundaries for yourself. Stick to them. The people who push you to bend them aren't doing that for your benefit but theirs.

If you get someone who really hits your Weirdo Alarm, trust it. Yeah, block and report, but also, take screenshots and store them somewhere that isn't easily erased. I have an 'Internet Weirdos' folder, which makes it a little easier to deal with when people start doing things like 'making threats of physical harm to me and my family.' Don't fuss, just take a screenshot and chuck it in the folder. Having that record makes it easier to just forget that it ever happened, because you have a paper trail if anybody starts doing something Real Weird.

Spend time offline, with people who do actually know you.

Don't get lost in the version of you that someone else makes up in order to make up for the shit that's missing in their own life. You aren't required to play the part that someone else is trying to script for you. It is never to your benefit, only to theirs; you gain nothing by standing in that role for them, and you lose precious seconds of your one irreplaceable life.

You could be using those seconds to look at this video of how to pick up a duck, which I think we can all agree is a better investment of your time.

#internet #Youtube

[genderkoolaid]

sorry im listening to a recording of that woman who threatened to call the cops on a black man because he told her to put her dog on a leash. and she literally said "well I was a woman alone in a park" as her excuse for verbally out loud on camera telling him that she would call the cops and tell them a black man was threatening her life. this is what i mean when i say fear isn't apolitical or neutral white & cis women actively use their fear, whether its put-on or genuine, to kill men of color and trans people. "its okay to say kill all men because im a woman im just coping with my trauma!" cool could you find a way to cope that doesn't lead to murder because a white cis woman felt like her life was in danger because a black/trans person existed near her.

#m.

[ktsumu]

retired apartment neighbour!john price who just misses protecting someone warnings: he's tampering with your stuff, implied home invasion, stalking

belatedly dedicated to @soumies who brainstormed this!!!

-

Your sink isn't working again.

Two months ago, it was a worn washer and something else the repair guy that your landlord sent told you. The last time, the drain wasn't up to fighting anymore.

This time? You don't know what the fuck it is.

Sometimes, you can fix it yourself— save some good money. Sometimes, something's obviously loose, because you remember that you tightened it well the time before. You make it right again and leave it, but then it just drips again. It makes you worry about the day you don't notice the sound and the wood starts to rot.

You've asked down the hallway a bit about whether their kitchens suck too, but they give you funny looks. You don't know why you've got the cursed unit, but it seems that everyone else is doing just fine.

Everyone but John, at least, because he worries about you.

John Price is half-neighbour, half-friend, half-stranger. That's too many halves, but he's big enough to fit them all.

The five months he's lived next to you, he's been nothing but kind. He's caring, funny when you're tired, helpful. You call him Price in passing, John when you need him for something; he answers dutifully to both.

(He's protective, too, frightens boys you bring back for yourself. You guess that nature came with the dog tags.)

He's kind, but you don't know him outside of when you need him, really. Neither of you seem to mind, though, since you're sure he's a busy man and he probably thinks you're too young to waste time on.

Now is one of those times that you need him.

The wrench in your cramping hand clatters against your kitchen floor, sweat beading at your hairline and under the neck of your shirt. It's the hottest night recorded in a decade and here you are; working on your fucked up sink instead of taking a cold shower.

Being too loud isn't a concern— your hallway is full of rabbits and your building manager lives below you; you hope he hears you groaning.

When you hear a knock, knowing who it's from, you start to care a little bit.

"Everything right?"

"I'm fine," you tell him, but it's wheezy. "Sorry for being loud."

Price simply opens your door, enters your home. It's barely ever locked when you're here, you aren't as careful as you used to be. Sometimes, if he's talking to you, he walks right in.

You never really say anything about it. You don't mean it as an invitation, but it comes out as one.

"It's that sink again?"

"How'd you know?"

Price is already in your space— looming over you, squatting to a kneel. One of his hands guides you away from the cabinet and you follow him without question.

He takes the wrench you gave up on. "S'always the sink with you, kid."

You see glimpses of history in Price. Like how he slides himself under your sink even though it's small, almost silent. Like how he grips your rusty wrench like a knife, backhanded, thumb closed over the handle's end.

His skin is covered in sweat, too, dewy under your kitchen light. It beads by his beard.

There's an ugly grind of metal versus metal, something tightening or being forced back into place. Price drops his thick arms again, lifting himself out from under your counter, and he hands you your tool back.

"How did you," you trail, "how did you know—?"

"Knew where to look, love." He laughs quickly when your face is blank. Price is taller than you remember when he stands, leaning on your kitchen island. "I've seen worse than some sink pipes, yeah?"

Of course he has.

It's why you mostly get him to fix things up in your place. Always knows what's wrong with your stupid apartment.

"Yeah, sorry."

Price doesn't leave when he helps you, either.

He waits, eyes trained on you when you get around your kitchen, getting the water jug and your tray of half-frozen ice cubes, asking if he wants some water. You think most people would kindly refuse, but Price always sticks around.

This time, though, he seems like he's gotten his fill, eyes lidded as he waves a hand when you go for the fridge. "M'good, love. Just call me when it goes again."

Your kitchen is uneasy. You know it isn't him, and it's probably you and the stress from the fact you can't sleep in the heat. The AC sounds like it's fighting in your window.

"How do you know it's gonna break again?" you ask. You know it sounds dumb, because you know your whole unit is a bit of garbage, but he's quiet. "Didn't you fix it well?"

John isn't looking at your eyes, he's looking at where your arms are crossed over your chest, hiding the sweat under your arms and collar. He's looking at your bare legs.

"I did," he assures you, always. "It's just a bad sink, lovie."

Just a bad sink, s'all it is.

"Yeah, it is, huh?" you ask, breathing a laugh at the stupidity of it all. At this rate, he'll be coming in to help you until you move out.

He steps toward you again, resting a heavy hand on the small of your back. You don't realize, don't even notice the fact he's nearly guided you out of your apartment until you're at the door.

Are you seeing him out, or is he seeing you?

John feels intimate when he's this close— head tilted, brows slightly raised, thumb tapping on your spine.

"Call me next time, alright?" he tells you, like you'd imagine he'd coo at a rescue. "I'm always around.”

You just nod. Something is pushing you closer and something is pushing him out.

"I will, promise."

"Have a good one then, kid. Take it easy tonight.”

"Thanks, John. I really, really appreciate you helping."

"Just what neighbours do, aye?"

He waits by the door as you close it, watching your smile just as you watch his, warm like a fire. Something makes your hand rest on the lock.

(You know you shouldn't need to, but you kneel in front of your sink when he leaves, knees pressed against the cold floor.)

Something itches in your stomach, not intuition but not ease either, nipping at the back of your brain. You almost feel stupid, using your phone flashlight to feel around the pipe that's never right, looking for something to tell you that you aren't acting crazy for doing this.

There's something you remember seeing earlier, right? Something obvious that you checked to see if it was the issue, or something you replaced last time, or something you paid for.

Your fingers feel nothing where there should be something— a piece is definitely gone, a washer or a nut, maybe old putty you remember cringing at.

It could be lost under the lip of the cabinets, maybe. Maybe that's where it is. It isn't him, surely. He wouldn't do that. There's nothing for him to do that for.

John Price has does done nothing but be kind to you— who are you to blame him for anything?

-

A missing handful of little metal pieces is dropped into a duffel, out of his fisted hand. It clatters against the rest of them.

#john price x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #price x reader #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #tw stalking #tw obsessive behavior #kit writes #neighbour!price #cod

[gotham-daydreams]

What would've happened if Y/n wasn't even in Gotham? Maybe they went to another country or something

If that did happen, then I think the Batfam would put their connections to good use (superhero or otherwise)!

Bruce Wayne would report the reader as missing, and they'd effectively have everyone and their mom on the reader's ass, and lets just say that Y/n wouldn't be gone for long. Especially not when the Batfam has connects with the Superfam and, well, I don't think I really need to mention anything besides they have incredible hearing and can fly super fast. (Alfred definitely shows some of them recordings and such he has of the reader so they know what the reader looks like, and what their voice sounds like if they don't know the reader already. Even if one of members of the Superfam probably does, even if I don't know who that'd be in particular.)

Granted it may still take them a while because the reader is one whole person in a world full of billions of them, but if there is one trait the Batfam shares is that they are absolutely relentless. Some are more stubborn than others, yes, but stubborn nonetheless.

Eventually they'd find the reader, and considering who these people are, along with who they're working with at this point, I can imagine that they'd find the reader pretty quickly considering things.

Not to mention that the reader is a pretty well known musician at this rate (albeit not to a super popular/famous degree, but well known enough for people on the street to kind of notice who they are in a little surprised but mostly casual way), and most likely has no idea that the Batfam is even looking for them until they see an article of them, or one of their friends mentions that they're apparently "missing".

Which gets extra awkward because, well- obviously they're just living their life at this point, and still making music because it's their passion and dream. They're not just going to stop because they left the manor, and have probably released a few songs with a performance of theirs coming up. Even if the location may not be disclosed yet, it's like the announcement itself cements the reader's fate. Since it's almost acting as a signal that's like a "hey!! i'm here!!" And again, this is a family full of Detectives and such, they can get details from most places other people probably wouldn't.

So, maybe they'd find the reader after a few weeks to a month or two at the very latest. Especially with them, at this point, going full yandere because they've been obsessively looking for the reader over however long it took them to find them. That obsession of the Batfam's growing more and more by the day, and their own paranoia and worries fueling each others. Maybe it even gets to Damian a little, who knows.

Regardless, whenever they find Y/n they are at their wits end. Now it isn't even up for debate if they kidnap the reader or not. They will. They do.

It's swift, it's sloppy, it's impulsive, it's reckless, and even it isn't thought out at all, it's quick. Almost painless.

They all just want to hold the reader and say all these things — but they can't. Not here. Not while Y/n isn't home. Not yet. But they will. Soon.

Whoever holds the reader first doesn't get to hold them for long. They're practically snatched and grabbed from all of the members of the family as they fight over the Reader's unconscious body like starved, savage dogs trying to get that last bit of meat before they have to endure the pains of hunger again.

Eventually, they do settle, especially thanks to Batman and Alfred, and decide who would be the best fit to carry the reader for the rest of the trip. That sparks another fight, but eventually someone is chosen, and some of them even take turns as everyone heads back to Gotham, returning home safely with the reader. Bringing them back home. To their real home.

Safe to say, the reader's freedom? Absolutely taken away, it practically doesn't exist anymore. Along with their personal space, as the Batfam needs a BIG recharge after all that searching, and the reader is just the thing they need. Expect a lot of hugs and a bunch of boundaries to get broken within that first month or so. They're never letting go, not ever again.

Tldr: Reader is still fucked either way, but it does take the Batfam significantly more time to find them, and when they do the family is basically mentally fucked over. All screws scattered on the floor- everything. So they're a little less lenient and immediately jump the gun, just that much closer to completely losing their mind, and so despite being so far away — the Reader is immediately brought back to Gotham once found, has basically all of their rights stripped away from them, and is suffocated in affections, hugs, cuddles, and the like for over a month into their captivity as a result. No exceptions. Not anymore.

Hope this answered your question! If anyone else has a question, or you yourself have something else you'd like to know the answer to, feel free to send in an ask! If you'd also like me to clarify something or anything like that, an ask is the way to go a well!

#talking daydreams #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #sibling reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #really liked this question tbh!

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - 13 November

🦔 - Who knew Attenborough's echidna was just camera-shy?

1. New state law prevents animal abuse offenders from owning pets

The law bans those convicted of animal cruelty, including those involved with dogfighting, from owning any kind of animal for five years after their first criminal offense.

2. A door at a Swedish library was accidentally left open — 446 people came in, borrowed 245 books. Every single one was returned

The library was supposed to be closed for All Saints Day — a celebration sometimes also called All Hallows Day, the precursor of Halloween. But the library staff had forgotten to close a door. So people came in, thinking the library was open. Some visitors realized the library was technically closed and went home, but others did not.

3. Ohio votes to legalize marijuana for adult recreational use, becoming 24th state to do so

Ohio voters approved a measure legalizing recreational marijuana on Tuesday, defying Republican legislative leaders who had failed to pass the proposed law.

Passage of Issue 2 makes Ohio the 24th state to allow adult cannabis use for non-medical purposes.

4. First ever images prove 'lost echidna' not extinct

Scientists have filmed an ancient egg-laying mammal named after Sir David Attenborough for the first time, proving it isn't extinct as was feared.

An expedition to Indonesia led by Oxford University researchers recorded four three-second clips of Attenborough's long-beaked echidna. Spiky, furry and with a beak, echidnas have been called "living fossils".

They are thought to have emerged about 200 million years ago, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.

5. Dog leads family to missing cat that fell into 30-metre mineshaft

An incredibly lucky cat has his canine companion to thank for saving his life after the dog led rescuers to a 30 metre-deep mineshaft the cat fell into.

The cat, Mowgli, disappeared on Oct. 20 and had been missing for six days. Owner Michele Rose told the BBC that she had “almost given up hope” of finding her cat.

6. World’s first whole eye and partial face transplant gives Arkansas man new hope

A surgical team at NYU Langone Health in New York has performed the world’s first successful whole-eye transplant in a living person: Aaron James.

After an accident at work led to the loss of his left eye and part of his face, Aaron was given a new window to his soul, as well as a partial face transplant.

7. Obesity drug Wegovy cut risk of serious heart problems by 20%, study finds

The popular weight-loss drug Wegovy reduced the risk of serious heart problems by 20% in a large, international study that experts say could change the way doctors treat certain heart patients.

The research is the first to document that an obesity medication can not only pare pounds, but also safely prevent a heart attack, stroke or a heart-related death in people who already have heart disease — but not diabetes.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

[persephonewritessometimes]

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Where after months ( cuz shes new n young working there)they cant také anymore their attraction to each other.

Key sentences: Hotch: I’m old enough to be your father. R: Should I call you Daddy then?

Smut n fluff

Please

Author's Note: oooo thank you for this request anon!! thinking many thoughts, head very full

Summary: It's no secret that you have a thing for your boss - a man 25 years your senior. What happens when he reveals he has feelings for you too?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 5108 (i got carried away hehe)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! UNDER 18? PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING! SMUT; DADDY KINK; SIR KINK; OVERSTIMULATION; MULTIPLE ORGASMS; UNPROTECTED P IN V (don't be like them y'all, stay safe); DOM!HOTCH, SUB!READER; READER IS HORNY; FINGERING; ORAL (F RECEIVING) reader gets distracted by Hotch's hands, pining, confession of feelings, reader blacks out from cumming really hard; Hotch calls reader "good girl, princess, baby"; Morgan is a cheeky bastard (as per usual)

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

“Y/N, you're staring, again," Morgan says with a chuckle and I quickly find somewhere else to look that isn't our section chief. Which I was definitely not having rated-R thoughts about.

"Shut up, Morgan," I mutter.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I turn and stare at him now, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Sure, why don't I just tell a much older man that every time I look at him, I feel weak in the knees and sweaty? That would really go over well." I say, sarcastically.

"We're getting tired of watching you eye-fuck him, Y/N." Emily sighs, jumping into the conversation.

"It's getting kind of pathetic at this point," Morgan adds and I smack him on the shoulder.

"You guys are being mean. Let me pine in peace."

"Y/N, none of us are at peace when you start acting like a dog in heat every time Hotch walks in the room. It's genuinely hard to watch." Morgan shoots back, grinning at me. I feel my cheeks grow hot at his brazen comment. "Just put us out of our misery and get laid for once, damn." I feel my cheeks growing even hotter.

"He - he doesn't like me like that." I'm tripping over my words, embarrassed that everyone can see what's clearly written by my body language when Hotch is around.

"Y/N, sweetie, you're smart, but sometimes you're an idiot," Emily says kindly. "He likes you."

"Trust us, we know," Morgan adds.

"How?" I say and cross my arms over my chest.

"Really? Okay. Whenever he's giving a briefing and you're standing next to him, his body gravitates towards yours, you're the first person he looks for in every room, Y/N, two weeks ago on that case in Charleston he almost throttled the officer that merely tried to flirt with you."

"Wait, that officer was flirting with me?" I've only been here a few months, so I haven't learned how to read people as well as him yet.

"Oh my god, she actually is an idiot." Morgan groans. "Yes! He always got you coffee refills without asking, offered you the first pick of the donuts, and gave you, and only you, a very thorough tour of the precinct. He was trying to impress you." He looks at me closely. "How the fuck did you get this job?" I shrug.

"Impeccable academic record?" I suggest timidly, and he snorts.

"Just pay attention to Hotch. More than you are already. You'll see."

"He's old enough to be my dad," I say.

"Why do I have the feeling that only fuels your fantasies?" Morgan mutters. "I'm done with this conversation. Either you tell him, Y/N, or I will."

"MORGAN!" He just throws his hands up in the air giving me an exasperated look. "Em? A little back up here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with Morgan, he has a point. It’s kind of hard to focus on work when we all know what’s going on except for you two. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but just say something, for the sake of everyone who has to be in a room with you guys. I could cut the tension between you two like a knife.” She gives me a small smile.

“I- I’m just nervous. What if you guys are wrong?” She places her hand over mine.

“We’re not wrong, Y/N. We even asked Reid to weigh in and he agrees with us. Just say something.” I frown and head back to my desk, needing to be alone with my thoughts for a while. I’m deep in a stack of paperwork when Hotch calls the team into a meeting. I sigh, set my pen aside, and make my way into the boardroom. I’m on high alert, due to Morgan’s comment, and as I step into the room, I glance at Hotch to find him already looking at me. He looks away quickly and I watch as the tips of his ears turn pink. Oh my god, they were right.

I’m hyper-aware of him the whole meeting, so much so that I barely heard a word he was saying.

“Y/N? Are you paying attention?” Hotch asks, looking at me.

“Uh, yes, sir.” I blurt out in a panic. I wasn’t expecting him to directly address me.

“YES SIR?” Morgan hollers. “That’s a new one.” Even Em is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch glares at him.

“Don’t tease her, Morgan. Y/N, please pay attention.”

“I will, sorry Hotch.” He just nods and goes back to what he was saying. I tried to pay attention I really did but I found myself watching his hands as he talked. He gestures at the screen, then to something in the paper he had given us, then puts his hand on his hip. His fingers are so thick I wonder if two would even fit inside of me. I’m thinking about him fingering me on his desk, pussy splayed and dripping for him, and I shift in my seat, feeling the wetness in my panties. Dammit, Y/N, don’t get carried away.

“Y/N, seriously,” Hotch sighs a few minutes later and I’m dragged from my dirty daydream. “I need you to pay attention or leave. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan whispers with a grin. I glare at him.

“I’m trying to pay attention, I swear.”

“Are you sick? You look a bit warm, why don’t you step out for a few minutes.” I just nod, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. “And I want to see you in my office when we’re done with this meeting.” I nod again and feel my stomach drop to my ass in nervousness. I quickly walk out of the room and am pacing when the door opens up and Morgan walks out, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What the hell were you thinking about in there?” He whispers, then pauses, “Actually, I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Just leave me alone, Morgan. I’m embarrassed enough already.” I say quietly.

“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you too much. You’re just an easy target. If it helps any, Hotch was downright flushed after you left. He stumbled over his words. Twice. I’ve never seen him that flustered. It’s like he knew what you were thinking about.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

“You’re not the one who has to face him in his office,” I grumble.

“Well, just make sure you guys close the blinds.”

“MORGAN! Shut up!” He’s laughing as he walks away. JJ and Em shoot me sympathetic smiles as they walk by and Reid pats me on the shoulder. Hotch doesn’t say a word as he walks out of the boardroom, and I diligently follow him to his office.

“Take a seat.” He says, gesturing at the chair and my eyes follow his hand again. Y/N! Stop! That’s what got you in trouble in the first place! I quickly take a seat, clasping my hands in my lap. “Now do you want to tell me why you were so distracted today?” He asks, looking at me. I feel the heat creep up my chest and onto my cheeks.

“I-um-no. No, I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Really? Because Morgan seems to have an idea. Maybe I should go ask him what he thinks.”

“No!” I blurt out. “Sorry. It’s just…embarrassing.” He just looks at me and I sigh before whispering, “Your hands. I was distracted by your hands.”

“My…hands?” He says slowly.

“Yes, sir, I mean Hotch, sorry. I know it’s not appropriate and I apologize.”

“What is it about my hands?” He asks, his voice low and in a tone that makes my heartbeat travel down to my pussy. I shift in my seat, a movement that most likely does not go unnoticed by him. “Y/N. Look at me.” I take a shaky breath and look up at him, all rational thoughts leaving my head when I see that his cheeks are pink, and his pupils are so blown I can barely see the brown. “What is it. About my hands.” He enunciates every word.

“They’re big,” I whisper.

“And what does that make you think about?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“No, no I want to hear you say it.”

In the smallest voice possible I say, “I was wondering if your fingers would even fit in me.” I hear him take in a sharp breath. “What it would feel like to be spread out on your desk with - with your fingers inside of me.”

“Careful, Y/N, you’re walking a thin line.” He murmurs.

“Haven’t I crossed it already, sir?”

“I’m old enough to be your father.” He says, words clipped. I get a sudden burst of confidence and stare him down.

“Should I call you Daddy, then?” I ask sweetly. I watch as he tightens his jaw.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t want to see how mean Daddy can get.”

“And what if I want to find out, Daddy?” I watch as his nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath.

“That’s enough, Y/N.” He spits out and I still, and fear that I’m about to lose my job to ill-timed arousal. My breath hitches as he leans back in his chair, eyes carefully watching me. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Whatever you’d like to, sir,” I say simply and I watch his jaw tick again.

“Listen to me very carefully. We are going to go downstairs, you are going to gather your things, and you are not going to say a single word. I’m going to tell everyone that you’re not feeling well enough to drive, so I’m taking you home.” I swallow hard, not believing that this is actually happening right now. “Do you understand?” I nod quickly. “I need to hear you say you understand. Or else this stops now, and we don’t speak of it again.”

“I understand completely, sir.”

“Good girl.” He says in a low voice and a whimper escapes me before I can shove it down. He stiffens. “Do you like that? Hearing that you’re a good girl?” My pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Yes, Daddy.” He hums, getting up quickly and my mouth goes dry when I see the tented fabric of his pants. He shrugs off his suit jacket and slings it over his forearm and in front of his body, effectively hiding his raging boner. He walks over to me, and I hastily get up from the chair, and he grabs my arm, gripping it just hard enough to keep me grounded and lucid despite the lust-filled thoughts in my head. He yanks open his office door and we make our way down the stairs. I keep my head down as we approach my desk, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Y/N isn’t feeling well. I’m driving her home.” Hotch says, letting go of my arm so I can grab my jacket and purse. I glance at him, nodding that I have everything, and he grabs my arm again, and we hastily walk towards the elevator.

“GO EASY ON HER, HOTCH!” Morgan shouts, and I hear Em laugh.

“Shut up, Morgan.” Hotch growls over his shoulder, and I glance back at Morgan, who mouths ‘Good luck’ at me. “Don’t look at him. The only person you should be looking at is me, princess.” We get in the elevator, and he pushes the button so hard I think that he’s going to break the damn thing.

“Jesus, what’s got you so riled up?” I say sweetly, not caring that I’d probably pay for that question later. I just want to see him snap, lose that carefully cultivated control and unleash himself on me. He turns on me in a second, caging my body between the wall of the elevator and the hard planes of his body. He grabs my chin, tilting my face up to look at him.

“Watch yourself. I’d hate for you to get into something you can’t handle.”

“I can take whatever you throw at me, sir.” He laughs.

“Yeah, right, princess. Keep talking a big game – we’ll see how far that gets you.”

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it?”

“Right where you wanted, I presume?” He asks, tilting his head and there’s nothing friendly in his eyes. I just nod, sucking in a breath when he pushes his body closer to mine and his hard-on is pressing into my thigh. “Before this goes further: green for go, yellow for slow down, red for hard stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?” I nod, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I understand!” I blurt out.

“Good.” He suddenly dips his head down, nose bumping into mine as we share the same breaths for a few seconds. “I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers onto my lips, not quite kissing me.

“Please. Ruin me, Daddy,” I whisper and he’s kissing me as soon as the last word is out of my mouth. It’s overwhelming, the way he kisses, stealing all the air from my lungs in a millisecond. I gasp when the hand from my chin drops to my chest, reaching into my dress shirt and under my tank top to tweak my right nipple. He takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, tasting me. The elevator dings and his hand disappears from my shirt and his lips retreat. I whine at the sudden loss of contact, as we had just gone from 100 miles an hour to 0 miles an hour.

“I know, princess, I’m sorry. You don’t want Daddy to get caught, do you?” I shake my head vigorously and he chuckles, escorting me to his car, and opens the passenger door for me, ever the gentleman. He gets in and starts the car as I buckle my seatbelt. He backs out of the parking spot, placing one hand on the back of my headrest and I suck in a sharp breath. He glances at me. “Really? You’re turned on by my driving?”

“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.” I breathe out, not daring to look at him. My cheeks are warm, and I feel frazzled. I jump when his hand comes to rest on my thigh, dangerously close to where I want him. I shift my hips, trying to get him closer to where I need him. He smacks my thigh abruptly.

“Don’t do that. You can wait.” He says gruffly.

“I can’t. I can’t wait.” I gasp out. “Please. Please touch me. I need you. Please, sir, I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll oblige you, but only because you begged so prettily. I like it when you sound desperate. One rule though: no cumming without my permission.” His hand slips under my skirt and I thank god that this was one of the rare days I decided to wear one. His fingers ghost over my cunt, the lightest touch and my breathing is already starting to labor. When his fingers press my clit from outside my panties my hips buck into the air. “Someone’s responsive.” He says, more to himself than me. His fingers trail lower, and he groans when he feels the wet spot. “Already this wet for me, princess?”

“Only for you, Daddy.” I whimper when he pushes my panties to the side, hand now free to touch as he pleases. His fingers come up to tease my clit again before one deftly slips inside of me. I let out a choked sound, tight around him. Just one finger feels thick, and when he slips in another finger I keen, tightening again.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside of me that I struggle to hit by myself. I gasp, hand closing around his wrist, and I don’t know if I’m trying to stop him or egg him on. He continues to work his fingers in me as he drives and I’m not sure how he’s managing to stay on the road. I know I should reciprocate but the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of me has made every thought I’ve ever had flee my brain. After a few minutes, my thighs start to shake and I’m panting, so close to a mind-blowing orgasm that I forget he told me I can’t cum without his permission. His fingers slip out of me seconds before I hit my peak.

“NO!” I shout, shaking in the passenger seat, sitting in a small puddle of my own arousal. I hope it stains his impeccable leather seats.

“Only good girls get to cum, and you haven’t been a good girl today, baby,” He says, “Open.” I open my mouth and he slips the fingers he just had inside of me into my awaiting mouth. I suck his fingers off earnestly, just like I would to his cock if he gave me the chance. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and I realize he’s parked the car in his garage. Is this really happening? I think to myself. “Color?” He asks me, turning my face so I can look into his eyes. I could get lost in his eyes.

“Green,” I say quickly.

“Good girl,” He whispers and meets my mouth in a messy kiss full of tongue, need, and teeth.

I don’t know how we made it inside, but as soon as I cross through the doorway, Hotch throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. He carries me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed. I’m paralyzed as I watch him rip his tie off, dress shirt following soon after. He’s beautiful, and I want to run my hands all over him and feel every scar. My eyes are tracing his chest and ever the profiler, he notices.

“You can touch. It’s okay.” He walks over to me, planting himself between my legs. I timidly touch his stomach, trailing my hands up his abdomen, running my fingers along his scars in quiet admiration. He suddenly takes my hand, kissing it, a break in the dominant façade. I give him a soft smile, one that has always been reserved for him, and his breath hitches in his chest. His hands cup my face, looking into my eyes, and I’ve never felt safer than I have at this moment. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, my hands resting on his wrists. It feels like we’re the only people in the world, two souls destined to collide. His next kiss is gentle as if he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he tosses his resolve out the window when I bite his bottom lip. He growls, pushing me onto my back and stepping out of his pants and boxers. I push myself up on my elbows to watch him and gasp when he’s revealed to me completely. He’s big. Bigger than I’ve had before. I knew it would be big because of his damn hands. “You’re far too dressed for my liking.” He mutters, and the next moment he actually rips my shirt off of me, buttons flying everywhere.

“HOTCH!” He stops, looking at me.

“Try again, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Daddy.”

“Much better. And Daddy will buy you a new one, okay?” I nod, suddenly unable to think as he slides off my tank top and unclasps my bra. My nipples are aching to be touched and as if he can read my mind, his head dips down to take my left nipple in his mouth. I suck in a breath, my hand coming to rest on the back of his head. His tongue laves over my nipple, and I swear I see God for a moment. He moves to the other side and my cunt is begging for attention. He slides my skirt and panties off without once leaving my chest. And when I’m naked before him, he kisses his way up my throat, leaving hickeys that will definitely be hard to hide.

“Daddy, people will see.”

“And? They should know whom you belong to.” He says plainly, he leans back, admiring my form and my hips jump up on their own accord, grazing his weeping tip in the process.

“Fuck, princess, don’t do that.”

“Please, please, please, Daddy, I need you so bad.”

“Daddy has to make sure you’re ready for him. I don’t know if my fat cock will fit in your tight little pussy.” I whimper at his words, more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. He slides down my body, pressing kisses into my skin as he goes until he gets on his knees, dragging me towards the edge of the bed. He slings both of my legs over his shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss into my thigh. “Your pussy is dripping for me, princess. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” I manage to whisper, and I watch as his head dips down and he licks up my pussy. He groans against my clit when he tastes me, and I shout in surprise at the added stimulation. He chuckles against me and goes to work, tongue thrusting shallowly in me before coming up to tease my clit. He’s getting me closer to the edge and when I feel two of his fingers slide into me easily, I sigh contentedly. He finds the spongy spot inside of me with ease, hitting it every time he thrusts his fingers into me. I’m hurtling towards my peak when I gasp out, “Daddy, please, I’m close, can I cum? Please? I’ll be a good girl, I promise. Your good girl.” His eyes flick up and he watches me, never stopping, and watches as my abdomen tenses and I start to clench around his fingers, panting. He pulls his mouth away from me just long enough to whisper,

“You can let go, princess.” And resumes his torturous pace on me. My hand shoots down to grip his hair and a few seconds later my orgasm rips through me. I shout loudly, hips moving with abandon against his face, and he doesn’t let up, continuing to lick and finger me through it until I’m twitching with overstimulation.

“Daddy, please, too much.”

“You wanted to cum, princess, so you’re going to cum until I’m done.” He growls and goes back to eating me out. I had no time to come down from my first orgasm and my body is already sprinting full speed ahead toward my second. My thighs clench around his face but it doesn’t stop him. He stills his fingers inside me and simply presses them into my G-spot, never letting up, just putting constant pressure on it.

I’m babbling at this point, nothing coherent coming from my lips except for ‘daddy’ and ‘please’. My orgasm blindsides me and I clench hard around his fingers and scream, not caring if anyone can hear me. My vision goes spotty as I continue to cum until he finally slips his fingers out and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m gasping for air as his touch trails along my hips.

“Still with me, pretty girl?” I nod still gasping. “Color?”

“Green, green, green.” I pant out quickly and he chuckles. He gives me a few more seconds to come down, tracing gentle patterns into my sides and he kisses me once my breathing slows. I pull away to bite my way down his neck, leaving my own marks on him. “Daddy, need you inside me, please.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for me, princess?”

“Yes! Yes! So ready! Please just fuck me!”

“Okay, let me grab a condom.”

“No!” I shout, grabbing his shoulders. “I’m clean. Please, I want to feel you. Just you.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He says, kissing the tip of my nose. I watch as he pumps himself a few times and lines up with my entrance. He pushes in, just barely, and stays there until I’m begging him to push the rest of the way in.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel full. I feel so empty.” He sheathes himself in me in one quick motion and I gasp. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips.

“Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re so goddamn tight.” He’s still above me, and I can see his shoulders shaking in restraint. “You feel like heaven.”

“Please move, please. Let go, I can take it.” I whisper, peering into his eyes and he pulls out a little bit to thrust shallowly. He swallows my moan with his lips, kissing me with the fervor of a man starved. He starts off at a slow pace and despite being sensitive from my previous two orgasms, I need more. I dig my nails into his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me. Hard. Please. I can take it. All of it.” He looks at me hard, searching for any hesitation, but his dick is literally inside of me, so there’s no hesitation on my part. I nod up at him and he leans down to kiss me as he starts to set a brutal pace. His hips are slamming against mine and when I shift my hips up to meet his thrusts he hits my G-spot with every thrust. “SHIT!” I shout, the words quickly turning into a loud moan as his thumb comes down to flick at my clit. I’m shaking with arousal, and I can feel his balls slap against my ass with how hard he’s fucking me.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you’ve got one more in you. Give it to Daddy. I want to feel you cum around my cock.” There are no thoughts in my head anymore, everything in me has zeroed in on the feeling of him literally fucking me into the mattress. “You look so pretty fucked out like this, bet you can’t think of anything but my cock inside of you, huh?” I nod and he laughs, kissing me hard. He leans back just enough to change the angle by shifting my calf onto his shoulder. He thrusts, hard, and I whimper. “You make such pretty sounds when I’m fucking you.” He picks up the pace again, moving his thumb on my clit in tight circles. I let out a broken moan as he hits just the right spot inside of me, and he takes note of it, hitting the same spot repeatedly, thumb keeping its pace on my clit. It’s overwhelming and I know that this orgasm is going to ruin other men for me. No one can do it like him. “Y/N,” his voice is low, “Look at me, baby, I want to watch you fall apart.” I drag my eyes open and look at him with dazed eyes. One particularly hard thrust and a drag of his thumb over my clit and I’m cumming violently, thrashing against him and gripping the bed sheets, my body spasming and I feel him fuck me through it and spill inside of me with a shouted curse before I black out.

I come to and can feel a warm washcloth being dragged between my legs gingerly. I hiss at the contact.

“Oh, thank god, are you okay?” I nod, throat raspy from screaming. “Can I get you anything?” I shake my head no, and the warm washcloth returns, I jump at the sensation. “I know, I have to clean you up though, okay?” He finishes in the next couple of moments and throws the washcloth into the hamper.

“How long was I out?” I say softly.

“Five minutes? Maybe six.” I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Y/N, that was the biggest ego boost I’ve had in years.” He chuckles and I let out a weak laugh.

“Help me up?” I whisper, holding my hands out toward him. He obliges, gently grabbing my hands and pulling me into a sitting position. My vision starts to go spotty again. “Oh, Jesus,” I say, starting to slump forwards. His arms wrap around me quickly, holding me against his chest until my vision starts to return to normal. His thumbs are rubbing my back and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. “I’m okay, I think,” I whisper after a minute and try to pull away but he only lets me get a few inches away, eyes worriedly searching my face. “Hotch, I’m fine. I swear. Now let me go so I can go pee.” He lets go of me slowly and when I stand up to walk toward the bathroom, my legs buckle underneath me. “Oh, come on!” I exclaim, but Hotch is right there to catch me. He scoops me up despite my protests and carries me bridal style to the bathroom, setting me down on the toilet. “Thank you,” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, don’t do that. I can see you trying to hide, getting embarrassed.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yeah, when your guard is down, you’re easy to read.”

“So, uh, do we just pretend this never happened? Go back to the way things were. I assume that’s what you want?” I bury my face in my hands, unable to look at him.

“Go back to the way things were? Y/N, baby, no. I can’t go back. This was not a one-time thing. I’m yours if you’ll have me.” I peek at him from between my fingers.

“Wait, you’re being serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment you walked into my office. I just didn’t think you’d reciprocate, until Morgan made a comment two months ago about your body language, and that’s when I had the hunch you felt the same way.”

“So, you’ve known I’ve been pining over you for months and didn’t think to say anything?” My pitch gets higher as the sentence goes on.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m clearly uncomfortable with you as I’m sitting in front of you, naked,” I say drily and he laughs again.

“Yeah, I know, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” I say, smiling, before adding, “But you’re my idiot.” His eyes brighten at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As you said, I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“Good. Because I’m never letting go of you.” I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“Good, because I don’t want you to.”

#hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch smut

[specialagentartemis]

Citizen Science and Contributing To Scientific Endeavor When You're Not "A Scientist"

Comments on some of my posts about science and misinformation express frustration with scientific establishments, and want to see more accessibility and attention given to amateurs participating in the scientific process and having their scientific voices heard.

If being involved in the creation of knowledge and discovery is something important to you, that's something I strongly encourage! It's absolutely possible. Amateur researchers with a passion and an eye for detail have made some fantastic discoveries - but what is often glossed over in stories like these are the years of work, the patient dedication, and the collaboration with university researchers that often underlie such discoveries.

The search for truth and information and the passion for science is present in a lot of people who aren't official "scientists" - curiosity is natural! And if participation in scientific observation, hypothesizing, experimentation, and discovering new things about the world is important to you, there are lots of ways to go about contributing - and the new year is a great time to start.

What are you interested in?

Ecology

Observing the world around you is for everybody. Getting invested in the environment of your hometown is for everybody. And, as the Mythbusters famously said,

Some ideas for a local ecology project:

Record the temperature outside every day at the same time - at sunrise, or noon, or sunset, or midnight. Depending on where you are, the local weather recording station may be miles away or on top of a mountain - measure the temperature yourself and compare it each day to what your app says. When is it accurate? When isn't it?

Record the weather every day. How much precipitation? What time of day? What kind?

Record what animals you see every day, where, when, and how many. Or choose a specific animal, like birds, or bees on flowers, or turtles or frogs in a local pond, or whiptail lizards vs. invasive house geckos, and record the numbers you see each day.

Record when in the year you see the first, or last, of a plant or animal. When the crocuses sprout, when the buds appear on the maple trees, when you see the first clover flowers or prickly pear flowers, when the first robin comes out or the first lizards come out of hibernation.

If you have an outdoor cat or a free-roaming dog, attach a GoPro or similar small camera to its collar to see where it goes and what it does.

Identify the plants growing in your neighborhood, and check in on it regularly to keep track of how each one fares in different weather conditions, or if any animals particularly like or don't like to eat it.

Bulk order some test strips, then take a small sample of soil from a local park or water from a local waterway each weekend and test them for PH, lead, chemicals, or whatever. See if it changes over the year, or after a heavy rainfall, or during drought.

Take a photo of the same spot every day for a year.

Linguistics

The study of how people use language! Everybody uses language in some capacity.

Do you have any small children near you? Talk to them! Record how they pronounce things and what they call new (or even familiar) concepts. Look for patterns.

Ask people you know if "dog" and "blog" rhyme, or if "Alohop" is a good pun for a pineapple beer. My family gets ENDLESS amounts of mileage out of this one with each other. Ask people you know questions about how they pronounce things, or what they call things. Make maps of dialectical differences between generations, neighborhoods, etc. Track linguistic shifts in the modern world.

History

Everyone and everywhere has a history, and accurate history is pressingly relevant always.

See if you have a local historical society, library archive, or history museum that is looking for volunteers to transcribe or translate collections.

Get elbow-deep in local archives. You likely have some sort of local archive near you that has not been fully digitized. Go in with a topic you want to learn about - Black families, Jewish communities, how your hometown transferred from Indigenous hands to settler ones, women who owned their own businesses, immigration, inter-racial relationships, sports, ice harvesting, farming practices, contemporary opinions on a major world history event that now seems so inevitable, sports and people's reactions to sports - and read everything in newspapers, wills, deeds, photographs, or other available records about your topic of choice. See if you can find connections that you haven't seen anyone else talking about.

These are just some things that occur to me immediately as something that anyone can do, if you're sufficiently interested in a question and want to discover more about it. The more local your topic, the less likely anyone has a solid answer to whatever you're wondering - and the more immediately relevant to the people around you your discoveries may be!

Combining it with a New Year's Resolution can also get you more motivated to do the things you want to do. Is your resolution to get more exercise? Take a brisk walk each morning and take a picture of the same area every day for a year. Take a walk every weekend down to the lake and count the turtles and frogs you see. Is your resolution to keep a daily diary For Real This Time? If nothing else, resolve to write down the weather and precipitation each day! Do you want to volunteer more or meet new people? Look for citizen science or local history groups! Feeling like you're working toward something Real is a great motivator.

Henry David Thoreau's detailed descriptions of the nature each day around Walden Pond in the 1840s provides a valuable benchmark for modern ecologists to compare environmental and climatic changes since then on a granular level. Silly rhyming poems and idiosyncratic spellings in letters and diaries help linguists track dialectical and pronunciation changes across time. Amateur science is great and valuable! We all can have a part in understanding and paying deeper attention to the world around us, if we want to.

#been sitting on this one for a while ever since I kept getting comments on my post about misinformation about how scientists are all #ivory tower eggheads who don't allow real normal people to Contribute to Science #Please contribute to science! I think everyone who wants to should!!! #science #citizen science

[rogueddie]

Famous Steddie Au Recs

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 📸

Help I'm Alive

ChaoGarden

Eddie reached a hand out and gently tucked his fingers under Steve’s chin, tilting it upwards and turning Steve’s face just a little to the side as he observed something on Steve’s face with a look of intense speculation. Steve couldn’t say for certain, but there was almost a tiny bit of anger there just along the edges, like he was stifling away anger at whatever it was that he was looking at.

Surely he wasn’t looking at the-

“Somebody put their hands on you, sugar?”

Words : 65,581 Chapters : 9/9 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Somebody To You

tears_for_years

@ bisexual_disaster: i would let eddie munson make me bark like a dog

Words : 4,714 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

you smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name.

antithetical_dreamgirl

Eddie has three major rules when it comes to working with celebrities: 1. don’t flirt with the talent; 2. don’t hang out with the talent; 3. don’t, under any circumstances, fuck the talent.

He’s had enough rockstars’ managers kick him out of hotel rooms after waking up to an empty bed with cold sheets to have learned his lesson ten times over by now.

He doesn’t even think of adding a fourth rule: don’t fall in love with the talent. Has never even come close to needing a rule like that. Not until he meets Steve Harrington.

Words : 4,510 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Consensual Catfishing

foresthearts

When Eddie gets a message on instagram from an account claiming to be the famous pop-star Steve Harrington, he knows immediately it's a catfish. He's not dumb. The account has no pictures and people like Steve Harrington don't just randomly DM guys like Eddie.

Still. What would be the harm in letting it play out? It's not dangerous if he knows he's being catfished. No, if he knows about it, then it's basically like a fun little roleplay. No harm, no foul.

Words : 32,108 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

abstract

a_little_unsteddie

The break-up had been messy, and long overdue by the time it happened; Eddie had spent the better part of two years avoiding everything in the news including Steve's name, half convinced that Steve hadn't ever loved him at all. So, why was Chrissy sending him an interview that Steve had done at some talk show?

Words : 1,107 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

the night breeze carries something sweet

asbealthgn

Eddie is used to getting recognized in public, but it doesn’t mean he likes it.

That is, until the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life sits in the seat next to him, unfurling a giant map that easily shields both of them. Eddie’s fucking savior.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know how to get to Japantown, would you?” the guy asks.

Words : 4,898 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Your Life, Framed on the Wall

orphan_account

A scrapbook of interviews and articles following Eddie Munson’s rise to fame as the frontman of Corroded Coffin, and his relationship with one Steve Harrington.

Words : 9,379 Chapters : 9/9 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Make Them Feel It

camouflagedlove

Steve Harrington has acted in many romance movies over the years but finds himself yearning for that same kind of love in real life. He struggles to make those connections but feelings start to boil up for him when his co-star, Eddie Munson, wants to rehearse the love confession scene from their movie. It's just a scene...isn't it?

Words : 2,835 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

We're Going The Distance

stevelovers

Steve doesn't know where Dustin got this little idol crush. After seeing world famous Olympic Gold Medalist “Medal” Munson- a geek who has set world records in snowboarding, he begs Steve to take him and the kids to watch him compete in an amateur charity tournament at Mad River Mountain’s Mad Dog snow race. Too bad he's a complete asshole.

Words : 14,732 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

i'll find my soul as i go home

oakenorcrist

Eddie Munson has had a rough go of it -- broken-hearted and uninspired, he decides to leave everything behind in San Francisco and spend some time with his uncle in a small town in the mountains. Little does he know that there he will find not only the peace and rest he's so desperately needed but also everything he never knew was missing from his life up until this moment.

Words : 31,868 Chapters : 5/5 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

[justcressida]

How Do Record Of Ragnarok Characters Deal With Turkish Women?

(The reason why the reader behaves annoyingly towards the Greeks is because of the confusion of food and culture)

(Actually, they can't cope, but that's a secret. Also, the nationalist cat in me is acting, don't blame me)

THOR

You look at his damn face and think he's calm, right? You're absolutely wrong.

You're not much different from a pair of rabid dogs. Thor isn't much of a social God, and no one can figure out how this guy came together with a chaotic leg.

He saw a lot, he didn't think he would be surprised by anything for the rest of his life... Until I met you.

You howled as you gave the middle finger to the Greek Gods??? Like a real wolf??

Really, truly in his immortal life, he had never been so surprised. He wasn't very interested in races, but when he learned that the Turks were descended from wolves, that strange gesture made sense

He observed that he was a very passionate person. You were proud to be proud of your culture and treated your ancestors with great respect.

You also said that you were going to make him eat a weird thing called kebab once and if he didn't like it you would shove the skewer used to cook the dish called kebab up his ass??

LOKİ

A scary couple that you have to run away from no matter what.

Similarly, he found you eating fish and grinning wickedly in front of Poseidon. You were eating while looking Poseidon in the eye, and Hades had to intervene to prevent Poseidon from killing you

FOUND IT VERY FUN

You are such a chaotic couple. Even Loki is sometimes very afraid of you, though. I mean, what madman would have a big 'National Anthem' painting made in the room and then have the entire Scandinavian Pantheon read it at knifepoint?

Whenever he doesn't like any Turkish food, you recite an epic of Turkish profanity to him, so he has learned to go to your senses.

Your favorite activity is to make people hell with life.

You speak so much Turkish that he knows all the Turkish swear words thanks to you.

BUDDHA

The love of his life.

Buddha always does whatever he wants, similarly you are the perfect couple as your favorite activity is breaking the rules.

Because his stomach is a black hole, you and your whole family are constantly cooking a lot for him. Your possessive attitude towards food surprises him a little, but at the end of the day, he doesn't care much because it's profitable.

You drive him crazy by speaking in Turkish. Really... You grin wickedly after saying a lot of Turkish things to kill him out of curiosity.

.... After a while, he ate so much lahmacun that his stomach hurt for a long time.

POSEİDON

The funny thing is that you do everything to drive Poseidon crazy, and what's even funnier is that you're married.

He might actually laugh if he stopped freaking out because of your disrespect, but for Atlantis' sake, why look at the sirens and "If we cut this, we'd make 2 pounds of anchovy pan... I'm craving it." What do you need to say?

(In Atlantis, everyone runs away from you because they're afraid you'll grill them)

He decided to stay away from you because you broke the painting 'Gençliğe Hitabe' to Apollo in his head.

... He is scared and aroused.

APOLLO

You broke a painting in his head and told him, and you said 'Yavşak piç'

He later found out that it meant "Squirrel bastard" and was defeated because of your audacity.

No one knows how you came together, but they're most surprised that you treat Apollo like shit.

"How are you today, little bitch?"

Although Apollo was partially accustomed to your chaotic behavior, what surprised him was that you loved each other by beating each other. When your best friend hit you on the buttocks in front of everyone, you tore her hair out and then hugged each other on the floor???

Also did you love each other by swearing???

Strange, but Apollo liked it

#record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader #ror poseidon #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #snv poseidon x reader #ror buddha #ror buddha x reader #ror thor #Ror thor x reader #Ror loki #Ror loki x reader

[fl3shm4id3n]

Bₑᵢₙg ₐ ₛᵢₙgₑᵣ/ᵣₐₚₚₑᵣ ₐₙd ᵢₙ ₐ ᵣₑₗₐₜᵢₒₙₛₕᵢₚ wᵢₜₕ: ⱼₒₕₙₙy Cₐgₑ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ꜱɪɴɢᴇʀ/ʀᴀᴘᴘᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Age gap (Johnny is 58 and reader is 28), mentions of fans/people being weird.

A/N: Reader is heavily inspired by Doja Cat, I may write more stuff about this. I'll read any feedback of any kind.

Masterlist

When the public found out that you and thee Johnny Cage were in a relationship, a lot of people lost it. Some assumed that the only reason he was in a relationship with you was because so that he could still be famous or whatever other things they say. All you both did was just ignore those people comments.

That wasn't the first time some of your so called 'fans' tried bashing you for the decisions that you make. Same with Johnny. He isn't with you because of your fame and money, you and him actually had chemistry.

You and him were made for one another believe it or not. You both were like soulmates, literally. They were times where you and Johnny shared a braincell.

The thing about Johnny, as much as self absorbed that he is. He actually a very caring and sweet person to be around. He also is very good at making people laugh and get them to be flattered. That's what made you fall for him. He is a himbo in a way, but he is your himbo.

He is very supportive of you. He knows how much potential you got and you should show share it with the world.

Johnny likes to listen to your music, he's the type to listen to all kinds of music. At times you may hear him humming to your music and even singing under his breath while he's doing something.

He may not know very much about music, but he'll help in any way you need help in. For example, if you're having a difficult time trying to come up with lyrics or a beat for your song, he'll try and help. He loves to help you in all ways possible.

If that doesn't work with your writers block, you'll stop what you're doing and do something with Johnny. Whether is watching a movie, cooking together, simply just lay together in bed, or whatever you can think of.

A thing that he likes about you, is how you call out your some of your 'fans' on their weird and toxic behavior. He's had his fair share of his strange over the top fans. But he's never really had the guts to tell them off. He liked that you did, that gave him some sort of courage for him to do so as well.

You and Johnny have blast reading comments and watching videos in how you have become 'satanic'. It was funny because it all started when you began to work on other projects, that aren't what you normally do. This stuff isn't new though, every time a music artist does something new and is successful at it, then they've become a 'Satanist'. That's old news, probably as old as Johnny.

He's goes to your concerts and even on tour with you. He becomes your personal assistant in a way, because he knows you like the back of his hand. He doesn't mind it at all, he enjoys being your personal assistant. (He takes your kisses as payment.)

He also makes it his mission to record all most everything about the concert, mainly you since you're the star of the show. His star.

Johnny buys your merch. He doesn't have a shame in wearing it. He'll wear it 24/7. Whether is a shirt, hoodie, sweater, socks. He wears it.

Most of his social media, is of pictures of you and him, sometimes mainly just you. He also posts in his Instagram story your posts about your new album or shows. He loves to show you off to everyone. (He's probably do that one Will Smith meme when he is with you in public. Specially when it comes to events.)

Johnny is a dog person, but if you have pet cats. He'd end up spoiling the hell out of your cats. He'd also refer to them as yours and his kids.

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage x fem reader #johnny cage x female reader #johnny cage headcanons #johnny cage hc #johnny cage imagine #johnny cage x singer reader #johnny cage x rapper reader #female reader #female y/n #singer reader #singer y/n #rapper reader #rapper y/n #cereza's writing #cereza's headcanon #cₑᵣₑzₐ'ₛ wᵣᵢₜᵢₙg #cₑᵣₑzₐ'ₛ ₕₑₐdcₐₙₒₙₛ #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

[loremaster]

CHAPTER 1 - Man Door Hand Nail Fur Door (Comic)

...aka the Zilara manifesto.

(tw: strangulation, suggestive themes) BOBA AU MASTERPOST: [link]

Yakou tells Yuma to go to the hotel and corral all the other detectives who have been sleeping soundly in the nice fancy rooms over there. Yuma, who got 3 hours of sleep on Yakou's creaky couch, says "Okay, sure thing, Dad." ((side note - wouldn't the train detectives have had rooms reserved at the hotel? Couldn't Yuma have had one of those?))

Instead of agreeing to meet up, they all send poor little Kokohead around the city doing side quests.

Pucci wants to know if Kanai Ward has any good symphonies; recordings of classical music are all well and good, but it's no substitute for the acoustics of a live concert hall. Closest thing Yuma can find is Aetheria Academy's chamber orchestra program. Musicians in Kanai Ward used to be part of a larger regional symphonic orchestra, but since Amaterasu locked off the city, they've had to resort to busking. Pucci seems disappointed, but resigns herself to checking out the high school girls' next concert anyway.

Aphex is cruisin' for a bruisin'. He spotted some suspicious movement in one of the districts on his radar (drug deals?), but every time he goes to check it out, he can't find out which people in the crowd are the suspicious ones. They must be afraid of Aphex's intimidating appearance, so Yuma goes in his stead to grill the people hanging around the square. Turns out they weren't dealing drugs, they were passing around anti-Amaterasu propaganda. They beg Yuma not to tell Aphex. Yuma goes back to the hotel to tell Aphex... who thinks anti-fascist action is cool, actually, so no need to do anything about those guys.

Melami wants to know about the local fashion scene, and is very curious about the dronebrellas she's seen around Kanai Ward. She sends Yuma to see what the big deal about them is, and once there, he gets roped into a long winding sales pitch for technology he can't afford. He relays as much of this as he can remember back to Melami, but once she hears they only come in one color, she decides she's not interested. What's the point if you can't customize it? Just get a regular umbrella. Or a rain coat. That's a much better way to show off your personality! Yuma tries not to scream about how much time he just wasted.

Zange shows Yuma a picture he took (with his mind) of a specific location in Kanai Ward, but can't quite remember where it was. Yuma has to go on a scavenger hunt to find the place that matches the picture and tell Zange how to get there. Zange assigns Yuma a numerical score based on how long it took him complete the quest (which is always too slow). This will be a repeatable quest/minigame with different locations every time.

As Yuma is about to leave the hotel, Zilch stops him. He offers a more formal introduction (since, you know, they didn't actually meet aboard the train) and volunteers (insists) to accompany the poor useless trainee as a senior detective, to show him how it's done.

Zilch has four animal companions with him at the moment: three caged mice and a dog named Bosch.

He doesn't seem to treat them very kindly, though. He isn't careful handling the mice's cage, and he orders Bosch around like one would speak to Alexa.

Anyway, Zilch and Yuma go look for the last remaining detective, Halara Nightmare. Canon ensues.

They run into The Boy and accept the quest to investigate the Nail Man murders. Halara needs some convincing.

At the church, Zilch makes a new friend, or so he thinks.

Zilch tactlessly asks the nun if her ears are natural or not, and starts bragging about how well his own surgery went. For the ears and tail, that is. The Nun doesn't like Zilch's attitude one bit. She watches him use his mice for spying and gets freaked out. The nun threatens to kill Zilch but he doesn't think she's serious.

Zilch says that he didn’t expect there to be a Metal Fox Church here, of all places. Yuma asks him to elaborate, and he says they’re a denomination that exists elsewhere in the world. The church near where he grew up was much larger and more spectacular than this one. The Metal Fox is a deity known for its fortitude and cunning, that offers protection from “hunters,” or persecution of any kind. Zilch doesn’t seem to believe in its teachings at all. #atheistpride

Meanwhile, the dog, Bosch, sniffs around and seems agitated by something. He can place the smells of all the church NPCs around the scene, but there's something else, too. Zilch barks the order - literally - for Bosch to track whichever scent doesn't belong, and the dog goes off on a solo mission.

Zilch has a plan to catch the Nail Man red-handed, but he won't tell what it is yet. He needs to prepare some stuff. So in the meantime, Yuma and Halara hold hands at several different crime scenes.

While Shinigami keeps blabbing about stripping detectives, Halara fucks off to who knows where and Yuma returns to the church to meet with Zilch. Zilch leads Yuma to the nearby woods and reveals his master plan to lure out the Nail Man by taking a doll with a slip of paper on it to the forest, and writing the name of someone for the Nail Man to kill...

"Yuma Kokohead," of course.

Yuma is terrified of being used as bait, but Zilch promises he'll intervene before the Nail Man can actually kill him, it'll be fine. So Yuma the pushover gets tied to a tree...

Halara unmasks the cloaked figure to reveal the priest of the Metal Fox Church, as they suspected. The priest begs for mercy - he was only trying to protect the people of Kanai Ward by purging it of corruption (and letting an innocent man take the fall for it)...!

Yuma thinks he might not have to rely on Shinigami's powers this time, but then...

Bosch leads them back to the church where Seth and his Peacekeepers are threatening Yakou.

And with that… it’s Mystery Labyrinth time!

Zilch’s voice is back to normal inside the Labyrinth. He seems oddly relaxed around Shinigami - because he insists this is not real and actually a dream. #atheist4lyfe

Yuma deduces that Zilch's name was written in the woods by the nun. She witnessed Zilch’s mistreatment of his animal companions and tactless assholery - but the thing that pushed it into murder territory was actually her recognizing the crest of the Alexander family on his fur coat. The full truth comes to light - the Alexanders have been known for generations as prolific trophy hunters. They “live alongside nature,” sure, but it’s a heavily controlled and subdued “nature.” This is antithetical to everything the Metal Fox Church stands for, so the nun, devout to her faith, believed Zilch to be an invasive threat to their way of life, and the peace of Kanai Ward.

And, since this revelation is taking place in the Mystery Labyrinth, of COURSE she gets a cool Mystery Phantom.

The gang also, like, solves the actual mystery.

Then once they find all the evidence they unmask the true culprit and his copycat, and the Priest's and Worshipper's souls are reaped.

Zilch is horrified. Somehow he didn't expect this was actually going to affect reality. Shinigami assures him that he won't remember any of the Mystery Labyrinth anyway, so...

Aaaaand eventually they do leave the Labyrinth. Halara is back to their usual steely exterior.

The masked priest in front of them drops to the floor dead. A scream from the church can be heard, presumably because the worshipper has just done the same. They go to check it out.

Then… Yomi shows up. He intimidates the group and doesn’t seem to deem any of the detectives worth his attention… until he notices Zilch.

Shinigami wonders if he recognized the Alexander family crest... but Yuma makes the connection and realizes Yomi might have had some sort of connection to the impostor on the train. That's pretty scary to think about. Was this the guy who tried to kill off all the Master Detectives coming into Kanai Ward? He seems dangerous...

Good thing Yomi has a devoted right hand to play around with. In front of everyone.

But anyway, regarding the Nail Man situation, Yomi decides to throw Seth under the bus, and punish him accordingly.

Bye Seth! Or should I say... Steve. :noes:

After his near-death experience, Zilch has a change of heart and decides he doesn't need a fur coat after all (seeing as it almost got him killed). Halara accepts it as payment for their services solving the case.... at least Zilch's half of it - Yuma still owes them a small fortune.

And with that the day is saved. Yuma plays a bit of baseball. Halara has a comfy new bed for their beloved strays. And Zilch... has a lot to think about.

-----

HELLO BOBA FANS!!! Thanks for your patience waiting for this update! I hope you can tell I've been working on this very hard (in between assignments for cartoon college)! The post didn't even fit all the images I made for this chapter - I'll be sure to post the other ones separately. At some point.

This chapter was an interesting challenge to write, trying to hammer down Zilch's character - how to make him distinct from his impersonator, but similar enough to lend credit to the impersonator. It took a while but I think I've finally landed on a solid backstory. I'll be posting more about him in the next installment of Boba AU - Zilch's Gumshoe Gabs. Then after that will be Chapter 2! Super excited to rub my gay little hands all over that one.

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, then please... I beg of you... draw me some Zilara ;_;

BOBA AU MASTERPOST: [link]

#rain code #master detective archives #mdarc #yuma kokohead #halara nightmare #zilch alexander #boba au #zilara #abcd art #edited to retitle rq

[ineffable-endearments]

I don't know if I think it's likely that Crowley would hang around Soho after the events of S2. Something in my gut is telling me that he would flee. Just...way, WAY too many reminders of Everything. People asking him where Mr. Fell's gone, probably. Hundreds of years of memories. And given that he's going to want to reestablish his own boundaries and emotional walls immediately after what feels to him like a massive betrayal, I don't think I see him wanting to look out for the bookshop or do any favors in memory of Aziraphale. Not yet; not until their story moves forward a bit.

But on an emotional level, the vision of the other characters trying to comfort him is so healing. I WANT to see Muriel trying to talk to him about human stuff and being so ridiculously goofy about it that Crowley forgets to be sad for a few seconds. I WANT to see Nina serving him espresso and sarcasm, and Maggie bringing him records that he doesn't usually like but occasionally does.

And yes, I WANT to see him looking out for the bookshop anyway. I don't know if I can believe it, but I want so badly for him to look at the ruins of his former life and decide it's still worth something. Even if Aziraphale isn't here now. The history in the books and the scrolls and the people who live in the neighborhood and the very buildings themselves - they're still worth something.

And there is still room for a few potted plants in the shop, which he brings from his flat.

I also want Crowley to find out what Newt and Anathema and the Them are up to. I want to see Anathema warily eyeing Crowley from afar as she wonders why this weirdo is back in town before finally going over to say hello. I want to see a very well-intended Newt break Crowley's cell phone while trying to help him find directions. I want Dog running and yipping around their feet while Adam offers to share his ice cream, and Pepper asks a bunch of incisive questions about where Crowley's from, and Brian drips chocolate all over himself, and Wensleydale yammers on about the Them's latest project.

I want the Tadfield crowd to visit Soho for the coffee shop that Mr. Crowley mentioned, or perhaps for the Soho crowd to visit Tadfield for the amazing weather Crowley insists is always there.

"Humans: you don't let yourself get too attached." I want him to finally figure out how to love a little community, even knowing that the members of it will pass away and change over time.

I spend all my time analyzing Aziraphale because I love him so much but find his motivations hard to understand - writing meta after meta is my way of processing my thoughts. But I love Crowley, too. He has taken a little bit less emotional processing for me. But I want so much to see him genuinely rested and content. It would be like seeing part of myself be rested and content.

#go s2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens

[aestariiwilderness]

Thoughts:

Omega must be the only child to ever be kidnapped and quasi-experimented on in a secret lab by an evil fascist regime to emerge no worse for wear like six months later WITH A PET (that isn't Crosshair)

The Batch, patiently searching an entire sector of space: Omega must be here somewhere Omega and Crosshair, zooming by: hey I wonder where our fam is

That had to be the most anxiety-producing visit from the Emperor for the least actual consequence I have ever seen. The man wandered in, took a look, patted Hemlock on the back, took the time to gently warn this bouncy evil scientist that "my dude, I know you and I love what you're doing here. And I know you want to post it on Spacebook. I totally get it! But uh. Just a heads up -- most people will think your work is an abomination, TBH, so I'm gonna need you to keep it quiet. Kay? K. Thanks. See you bro, let me know when you need to evacuate an entire base again, I'll foot the bill" and left.

Everyone is sleeping on the fact that Palpatine and Hemlock's relationship (such as it is) is weirdly adorable and honestly. Hemlock, my dude. He really took to heart the whole "if you love your job you'll never work a day in your life". Man is living his dreams

Yeah fine Emerie gave her a doll back. I still don't like you

Why does no one (looking at you Saw) ever just...shoot the Emperor's shuttle down.

Would have been hysterical if Omega and Crosshair just nicked the Emperor's shuttle.

Palpatine: this project must adhere to the utmost secrecy. No one must know. No one must ever leave. *Omega and Crosshair tiptoeing past in the background*

*Palpatine's shuttle lifts off ground* Clone commando: uh sir. Those, uh, pretty important prisoners have escaped. Hemlock:... Hemlock: bless you for waiting to say that till after my boss left

Hunter still sucks at technology.

It's been like half a year and they still haven't bothered to check the recordings of Tech's goggles. Color me unsurprised.

Also unsurprised: we dropped the brain cell on Eriadu. it hasn't grown back yet

FOUND THE CLONE CADETS!

Phee and Shep, back on Pabu: HUNTER WE'RE NOT YOUR CLONE CHILD PANTRY STOP DROPPING OFF ALL YOUR SPACE ORPHANS HERE. WE TOLD THEM TO PLAY AND THEY HAD UPPER AND LOWER PABU IN THE THROES OF A CIVIL WAR BY LUNCHTIME. HOW WERE YOU GUYS THE WELL-ADJUSTED CHILD SOLDIERS???

Maybe-Eh-Possibly Imperial Tech, watching the shuttle zip off without him: YOU TOOK THE DOG??

#the bad batch #bad batch season 3 #spoilers #star wars