#Wildlife Fact-File

[vintagewildlife]

Gaur By: Unknown photographer From: Wildlife Fact-File 1990s

[chickie-birdies]

My favorite thing is when I see a photo of a random bird and go "this particular bird name popped into my head, I wonder if that's what this bird is" and look it up and I'm right. Oh yeah. 27 years staring at bird books have not been wasted. 😎

[tytonidyke]

U guys remember these things? I’ve retained so many childhood animal facts from these bad boys

[wandering-wolf23]

It will never not be wild to me how Tumblr excuses a cow blog that keeps their animals in feedlot conditions without hoof care, yet has a shit fit about licensed, screened sanctuaries.

[botanyshitposts]

ok INCREDIBLY old content originally meant for this blog but in 2018 when i was just a wee lad with a little spinner propeller hat and big rainbow lollipop i went to a carnivorous plant convention in california and met a bunch of people who breed/collect/study these guys. one person was this collector who was slowly working on leaving the hobby or at least no longer growing plants, and he had a bunch of carnivorous plant related files he was charging like 50 cents for or something, and so i came into possession of these, which are examples of the kind of paperwork you have to have done to legally ship/trade endangered species of both plants and animals. functionally very boring paperwork, but something i found like, incredibly fascinating. i blacked out the personal id of the person and then immediately forgot to ever upload them, lmao.

these plants were bred and raised in a greenhouse and sold abroad, not taken from the wild, but because the species are endangered and often protected in their native countries (most of these are nepenthes, asian pitcher plants, a huge family spread throughout oceania and southeast asia), there's a lot more documentation that needs to be done regardless of their origin, both on the end of the seller and on the end of the buyer.

the rabbit hole on carnivorous plant trade is deep and kind of wild. there's plenty of common, non-threatened, greenhouse-grown pitcher plants on the market that people buy all the time, even non-collectors, but there's a whole debate to be had on if it's morally okay to be collecting the more endangered/rare of these plants in the first place. the big argument for breeding is that breeding them in captivity means there's more supply that's not poached from the wild, meaning poachers have less of an incentive to take the risk of taking adult plants from their habitats; from what i've heard, sometimes countries will issue permits for breeders to collect some wild seeds just to create a non-wild breeding pool to drive down the price. predictably, however, you also get people who are very much willing to pay a lot of money to get as rare of a plant as possible.

anyone familiar with the allure valuable plants have had over people throughout history can imagine the rest, but here's an article about a guy who started buying poached plants to enrich his private nepenthes collection, who then got busted by a fish and wildlife service agent embedded in his carvirorous plant circle. the plants this guy was buying were being sold to him without any CITES paperwork or declarations like the ones above; it was literally just a guy in indonesia taking rare plants from the woods around where he lived, selling them over facebook marketplace and ebay, and mailing them overseas as an undeclared 'gift' to get around customs. frighteningly small steps to take on all sides, to be honest.

(also, fun fact: another example of carnivorous plants that get poached are wild venus fly traps, which are only native to north and south carolina in the US. from what i understand it's a mix of people who genuinely did not know it's a native species and people who really are just going out into the woods and digging up plants to sell online. sometimes poaching is closer to home than you'd think!)

anyway. wild and interesting times in the land of plants recovered from a hard drive lmao

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

the maid of amsterdam: dovquez [g]

@dovquezdecember + charcoal

The mermaid in the fish tank has a perfectly pleasant expression despite it being a remarkably shitty fish tank—except for his eyes, charcoal black and charcoal dull, huge, unblinking.

A shark’s eyes. And a shark isn't trying to be malicious when it bites, it just wants to figure out if you’re food.

Andrea swallows. “Ah, good afternoon. You’re Marc, right?”

Marc, estimated to be 11 ft long, still unweighted as all approach attempts have culminated in conflict, found off the coast of Castelldefels by Rossi and his crew God knows when and God knows why.

The mermaids nods once. He appraises Andrea cooly, with the artful boredom of executives and government officials when presented with his research pitches. It should go into his notes—enough understanding of human interaction to regulate emotional response.

Christ, alright. Very comforting.

“I’m Andrea Dovizioso,” he says. The next words stick to his throat like algae—does a mermaid know the ISPRA? Should he explain it? Tell him he’s a protected species these days?

Andrea sighs, rubbing his face. The mermaid—Marc—raises his eyebrows, snorts, bubbles spilling from his pink, almost harmless mouth. He has to reckon with the fact that he’s being made fun of by a creature he isn’t sure knows anything about comedic timing.

Typical Valentino—making trouble and shoving them on his hands.

“I’m here to help you,” is what he settles on.

Marc’s tail swishes, an odd jolt of movement. It’s too cramped in his tank for it to wave and ripple, so it ends up trapped tight against the glass, its tip dangling out. Like this, Andrea can see his scales, pearly white and orange, over five feet of them. They’ve grown dull, loose in some spots.

He smooths out a frown before it can carve itself on his face, chews on the insides of his cheeks instead. Is Marc sick?

But he manages to surge up anyway, until his torso is out and his tail is in. His gills flutter, and he finally, finally blinks.

“You are.”

Marc speaks in clumps, the syllables strained—like he’s reading out words in a language he doesn’t recognize. It isn’t a question, not quite, but he tilts his head to the side, exaggerated, too low, expectant. His overgrown curls flopping over his forehead are disarming.

Andrea taps his fingers against his thigh, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. Marc keeps staring at him with those eyes, bottomless, flinty. The stark letters of his files flash black in his mind—ambush hunter, mesocarnivore. Opportunistic, clever, cruel, whatever else Valentino wrote on him.

“Yes, we’re trying to get you back home,” he speaks carefully, slowly. Marc mouths along the words, frowns. “Not now, but soon. I hope.”

“Soon,” Marc echoes.

His mouth wobbles, and his whole expression spasms. It isn’t a flinch, goes over quicker than one. Andrea spots the misery in the sudden weight on his shoulders, how he hunches over himself. Still, he can’t get a hand around it. Marc’s expression becomes smooth like sea glass again—remarkably, immaculately empty. It might as well not have happened.

The humanity of that face—the sudden wide-eyed hope—settles on his stomach like lead. Makes Andrea feel like he should be back on ethics classes, bent over a Philosophy book.

It makes him way too aware of how many generations of species ago humans abandoned the sea.

Andrea huffs. Makes himself focus on the problem at hand—the small security tank, and the wildlife trafficking charges Valentino will face, and the reputation of his new charge.

“Are you going to try and bite my arm off?” He raises a single, pointed eyebrow. Marc shrugs, opaque. “Break my legs? Drown me?”

Only Valentino could get close to him—his pool, or his tank. Only Valentino, until one day Marc wrapped his tail around his waist and dragged him under. It took four minutes and thirty-two seconds for people to wrench him from that hold. Wet, incoherent, trying to cough out his lungs.

Andrea saw the video. They were talking before, Valentino very close to the pool’s edge, Marc swishing and almost writhing, kicking up waves. The pixelated security cams couldn’t get more than that, and the blur of white and orange that followed.

Marc makes a face at him. Then said tail snaps up.

Andrea watches its lazy arc in fucking disbelief and doesn’t even flinch when something hits his shoes. The water is lukewarm, thick with brine. His socks are drenched.

He’ll have to do laundry again tonight. Great.

“Right,” he deadpans, “it’ll be nice working with you.”

Marc smiles—tries to, at least. Andrea isn’t sure if he can or wants to or knows how to. It’s more a show of teeth than sincere, each of them white and wicked. If he pushed, he could cut his fingers on their fine points.

“I wanted to get your face.”

[marigoldendragon]

I made some twst oc's to rep some of our Australian animals! The art is *very* rough but this has been sitting in my work in progress folder for like a month so GOOD ENOUGH. Plus some bonus facts about our animals because a lot of my design and character choices were based of the animals themselves and I wanted to give people some context. Bazza was also based off my memories of a typical teenage boy in Aus. But I clearly don't have a high opinion of teenage boys here because he ended up a very unpleasant character XD I filed him down so much and he's still rough around the edges :P

And yes! I have seen a blue ringed octopus in the wild! My fool of a school teacher was gently poking it with a knife to get it to glow blue. Like bruh. Your supposed to be supervising these kids not riling up dangerous wildlife we might accidentally step on.

I also wanted to make a fae character based around thylacines, as fae are rare and thylacines are extinct (thank you shithead white colonialists of the past), but .... I'm tired :P

[kenzirr]

part 2 to the spencer imagine

@levi-of-starz

The BAU office was bustling as usual, agents hurrying about with case files and paperwork. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, engrossed in a book, when he suddenly looked up, a thought clearly lighting up his face.

"Did you know that the world's smallest bird, the bee hummingbird, weighs less than a penny?" Spencer announced to the room. "It's native to Cuba and measures just 2.25 inches from beak to tail."

Morgan, who was passing by, stopped and raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty cool, Reid. What got you thinking about hummingbirds?"

Spencer smiled. "It’s one of the facts Y/N shared with me the other night. We've been trading trivia back and forth, and it got me thinking. I want you all to meet her."

Garcia's eyes lit up as she walked over. "Oh, that sounds fantastic! When do we get to meet her?"

Spencer thought for a moment. "How about we arrange a dinner? I could invite Y/N, and we can all get together. I think she’d love to meet all of you."

JJ nodded enthusiastically. "I think that's a great idea. A nice team dinner would be perfect."

Hotch looked up from his desk, considering. "Sounds like a plan. I'll bring Jack along since I can't leave him alone."

Spencer smiled, feeling a wave of excitement and nervousness. "Great. I'll talk to Y/N and set everything up."

---

A few days later, the team gathered at Rossi's mansion, which he had graciously offered for the dinner. The dining room was elegantly set with a long mahogany table covered in a pristine white tablecloth. Crystal wine glasses sparkled under the chandelier's soft light, and the aroma of Italian cuisine filled the air as Rossi finished preparing the meal.

The centerpiece was an arrangement of fresh flowers, and each place setting had a small, handwritten name card. Spencer had even placed a few fun facts under each plate as conversation starters.

Y/N arrived a little after Spencer, looking both excited and a bit nervous. Spencer introduced her to everyone, and the team welcomed her warmly.

"Y/N, this is Derek Morgan," Spencer started, gesturing to Morgan.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Morgan said with a grin. "Spencer’s told us a lot about you."

"And this is Penelope Garcia," Spencer continued.

Garcia gave Y/N a big hug. "So nice to finally meet you, lovely! You look even more wonderful than Spencer described."

Spencer then introduced JJ, Rossi, and finally Hotch and his son Jack. Jack, clutching a small toy car, smiled shyly at Y/N.

"Hi, Jack," Y/N said, crouching down to his level. "What’s your toy’s name?"

Jack beamed. "This is Lightning McQueen. He’s really fast."

"Nice to meet you, Lightning," Y/N said, shaking the toy car's "hand."

They all sat down at the table, and Rossi brought out the first course: bruschetta topped with fresh tomatoes, basil, and a drizzle of balsamic glaze.

"Y/N, I hope you like Italian food," Rossi said, smiling. "I made some of my favorite dishes tonight."

Y/N took a bite of the bruschetta and her eyes lit up. "This is amazing, Rossi. Thank you so much for having me."

As they ate, the conversation flowed easily. Spencer couldn't resist sharing another fact. "Did you know that tomatoes were once thought to be poisonous? In the 18th century, people called them 'poison apples' because they believed the aristocracy got sick and died after eating them, but it was actually the lead in their pewter plates reacting with the tomato acid."

JJ laughed. "That's fascinating, Spencer. I never knew that."

Y/N joined in, sharing one of her own facts. "Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet? They have taste sensors on their legs and feet to help them find food."

Garcia's eyes widened. "That's amazing! I love butterflies, and I had no idea."

The main course was served: homemade lasagna, rich with layers of cheese, meat, and sauce. As they dug in, Hotch shared a story about a recent camping trip with Jack, and Jack excitedly talked about the wildlife they saw.

"Y/N," Garcia said, "how did you and Spencer meet?"

Y/N smiled, glancing at Spencer. "We met at a bookstore, actually. We were both reaching for the same book – a biography of Alan Turing."

Morgan chuckled. "Of course you were. That sounds like a perfect Reid story."

As they moved on to dessert – a decadent tiramisu – Rossi raised his glass. "To a wonderful evening."

Everyone clinked their glasses, and Spencer felt a warmth spread through him. The night had gone perfectly, and he couldn't have been happier.

After dinner, as Spencer walked Y/N to her car, she turned to him with a smile. "Your team is wonderful, Spencer. I had a great time tonight."

"Me too," Spencer replied, his heart racing. "Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to me."

Y/N leaned in, and Spencer met her halfway, their lips touching in a kiss that was soft and sweet. As the kiss deepened, Spencer felt a surge of warmth and happiness, losing himself in the moment.

Unbeknownst to them, the team had gathered near the window, watching the scene unfold. Garcia was the first to giggle, followed by a series of playful whispers and chuckles from the rest of the group.

Morgan couldn't resist. He opened the door slightly and called out, "Get a room, you two!"

Spencer and Y/N broke apart, both blushing furiously as they turned to see the team grinning at them from the doorway.

Garcia added, "We just wanted to make sure you didn't forget to say goodnight!"

Spencer, still flustered, managed a sheepish smile. "Thanks, guys."

Y/N squeezed his hand, looking equally embarrassed but happy. "Goodnight, everyone. Thanks for a wonderful evening."

As she drove away, Spencer turned back to his team, who were still chuckling and exchanging knowing looks.

Hotch clapped Spencer on the shoulder. "I think she’s a keeper, Reid."

Spencer nodded, his heart full. "Yeah, I think so too."

[variouspositions1984]

tagged by @grahamkennedy ❤️❤️

tagging @libertineprophet @firewalkwithmedvd @tilling @phaggotetta @dafttpunk but only if you wanna no presh xx

[vintagewildlife]

Grasshopper By: Unknown photographer From: Wildlife Fact-File 1990s

[xivu-arath]

scrolling through my fic document reminded me that my "a horrible goose was rezzed by a ghost" wip was pretty good! I'd like to get back to it some day

Zavala inspects Odile’s new Guardian, who inspects him right back. “This,” Commander Zavala says, “is a very poor joke.”

She disagrees. This would be an amazing joke, if it was one. She plans to use it for the setup of a bunch of them now – “So a Hunter, a Ghost and a goose walk into a bar” – but! That’s not the point!

“That’s because it isn’t one,” she says, trying not to look down at her Guardian. People take eye contact seriously, which is a little unfair when all you have is one big optic.

Zavala pauses, softens. She’d appreciate it if she wasn’t being serious. “I understand that it is Ghosts who have the bleakest duty out of all of us. No one in the Tower underestimates the lengths you go to for all our sakes. But the fact remains that this kind of stunt is unacceptable. Passing off wildlife as a Lightbearer? Surely you know better.”

“It’s not a stunt! It just happened!” she says, shell flaring outward. Zavala’s frown deepens, but Targe bails her out unexpectedly, swooping down for a quick scan.

“It is a Guardian. Somehow. The Light patterns are odd.”

“Understandably, since this is a bird.” The look he turns on her is worse than the stern frown, somehow.  “How did this happen, exactly?”

“It just did,” she insists. “I felt that this had to be the one and then – bam!”

“But,” he says heavily. “This is a goose.”

“One set of bones looks like every other, especially stuck in a dried up lake. And – and the Light caught, so it had to be right.”

“Nevertheless,” Zavala says.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Her Guardian steps closer, bored with a conversation happening literally over their head.

“You’re saying you can communicate?”

“Picking up on biorhythms is simple enough! And I’ve downloaded every file on avian body language I could find.

“Geese,” she says with as much dignity as she can muster, “guarded Rome. Thousands of years ago! There’s a precedent.”

Zavala sighs, but she knows she’s got him.

[dzthenerd490]

File: Mothra

SCP#: ABU

Code Name: Mothra: Queen of Monsters

Object Class: Apollyon/ Thaumiel

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ABU mainly resides on Infant Island or SCP-ABU-1 as it is known by Foundation staff. Naval Task Fleet Aphrodite-4 "Pegasidae" is responsible for maintaining the blockaid secluding the island form the rest of the world. Meanwhile Foundation staff on the Foundation Area Base on SCP-ABU-1 are in charge of collecting samples of the island's exotic and often anomalous flora and fauna. Foundation staff there are also in charge of maintaining friendly relations with the natives of SCP-ABU-1 as well as both SCP-ABU-2 individuals. 

Foundation staff on SCP-ABU-1 and NTF Aphrodite-4 are to alert all Foundation channels if SCP-ABU ever acts agitated and/ or suddenly leaves SCP-ABU-1. From there Foundation satellites and space staff are to monitor where SCP-ABU goes to the best of their abilities. Because SCP-ABU can make use of SCP-ACS this won't always be possible. Foundation colonization of SCP-ACS is ongoing to make up for this weakness in the containment procedures of SCP-ABU and other Titan Anomalies.

Description: SCP-ABU is a rare insectoid member of Species of Interest: The Titans. SCP-ABU resembles a female specimen of Gynnidomorpha alisman or the silk moth, though obviously much larger and stronger. Upon being born, SCP-ABU as a larva extending 15 meters in length and possessed a grey yet slightly luminated body that despite being slimy and soft looking was stronger than steel. Even as a larva, SCP-ABU was able to tear steel apart, take rocket fire without reaction, and even withstand advanced armor piercing rounds with only annoyance at worst. Furthermore, it was not defenseless, able to spit large silk webbing with enough force to kill targets with blunt trauma or leave them with fractured bones. Testing has shown this silk to be as strong as Titanium with a single strand alone, each one normally being 1.5 cm in thickness. Testing is ongoing to see how this silk can be utilized by the Foundation.

After 24 hours of being born SCP-ABU quickly went into its chrysalis stage of life where its shell was not only indestructible but reported to release a beautiful and calming tune. After an additional 24 hours passed, SCP-ABU awakened form its chrysalis with a fully mature body and newly grown wings. Its new adult body was still 15 meters in length but now with the added wingspan of 200 meters. SCP-ABU still has the ability to spit its indestructible silk and sings its calming song but its new wings also have anomalous properties. SCP-ABU wings can not only enhance the range of its song but can also release a strange powder like substance containing Gaia Radiation.

As you know Gaia Radiation is an anomalous energy source that acts as a super vitamin in energy form improving the quality of life for all flora and fauna it comes into contact with. It is also theorized to be what allows Species of Interest: The Titans to exist without biological complications. However, of all the Titans the Foundation has catalogued, none can create as much Gaia Radiation as SCP-ABU, not even SCP-ABQ can keep up.

Despite SCP-ABU being an insectoid and SCP-ABQ being reptilian, the two Titans are mated. Besides the fact that both are Alpha class Titans and unlike other Titans possess unique anomalous abilities, why they are mated is unknown.

SCP-ABU was discovered in 1961 during a Foundation research expedition to map out SCP-ABQ's traveling patterns across the ocean. While following one of the paths, they found the island of SCP-ABU-1. Within SCP-ABU-1, lots of exotic flora and fauna was found, all of which seemed to resemble ancient species but was genetically altered by the abondance of Gaia radiation on the island. Because of the massive amounts of Gaia Radiation and the new forms of wildlife on the island Foundation researcher quickly started flooding the island to take samples. 

This unfortunately, lead to conflict with the locals of this island. Oddly, the locals have no biological difference to regular humans and were of Asian ethnicity with tan skin. Additionally, these locals have gained above average strength, height, muscle structure, and healing capabilities most likely having been exposed to Gaia Radiation all their lives. Though the most anomalous of the locals was the twins, known as SCP-ABU-2. 

SCP-ABU-2 are female twins both having tan skin and black hair, making them look no different to the rest of the locals. For whatever reason when the twins talk, they always do so in unison. However, what makes them anomalous is when they sing, doing so allows them to communicate with SCP-ABU. How they achieve this is assumed to be thanks to the prolonged exposure to the Gaia Radiation SCP-ABU produces. Why SCP-ABU-2 can do this and not the rest of the locals is unknown.

Regardless, when the locals felt threatened, the SCP-ABU-2 twins started singing, causing SCP-ABU to awaken and start attacking Foundation staff leading to 24 casualties and 6 injured. Foundation staff were forced to retreat allowing the SCP-ABU-2 twins to sing SCP-ABU into calming down and enter its chrysalis stage of life. Foundation researchers begrudgingly gave up their samples to show the locals they meant no harm and were sorry for any transgressions. The SCP-ABU-2 twins were the only ones willing to talk to Foundation staff and told them that SCP-ABU was Mothra: Queen of Monsters.

Not long after SCP-ABU had broken form its chrysalis and was now in its adult form. At the same time SCP-ABQ appeared form the ocean, the two instance meeting at a beach on the island. Surprisingly their interaction was brief and peaceful, it was almost like the two were very familiar with one another despite having only just met. The SCP-ABU-2 twins explained to the researchers that SCP-ABQ was Gojira, King of Monsters and protector of Mothra. 

Upon learning this valuable information, all boats quickly left SCP-ABU-1 and made way to the nearest Foundation Site. The O5 Council declared to have SCP-ABU the same Dual Object Classification of SCP-ABQ. Since SCP-ABU stays on SCP-ABU-1 protection and containment will be focused on the entire island, hence the creation of MTF Aphrodite-4. Additionally, a Foundation Area was constructed on SCP-ABU-1 but in an isolated area far from the rest of the locals. Since SCP-ABU's discovery, for better or worse, it has had some influence on the anomalous world, just like SCP-ABQ. Please see Please See Addendum X-23 for details.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[walkawaytall]

wip whateverday

So, I started writing this story tentatively titled Word of the Day quite awhile ago, and I’ve been having issues coming up with an ending. I’m actually considering turning it into a Five Times fic. But in the meantime…I kind of wanted to post some of what I have here just ‘cause. This is a sizable excerpt — it is admittedly most of what I have written so far — but…yeah, I dunno, I like the idea in general and like what I have written so far and just felt like sharing today.

Excerpt below the cut!

Jan Dodonna was monologuing again, and even Leia was a little over it. What had started as a simple review of safety protocols had morphed into a full-on lecture. Usually, when Jan got carried away, Carlist eventually interrupted and ended the meeting, but Carlist was stuck in an entirely different meeting and Leia wasn’t sure how Jan would respond to her taking over; when they made decisions for the base or in High Command meetings, her opinion held as much weight as anyone else’s, but he did still technically outrank her, and overriding him in front of the rank and file likely wouldn’t go over well.

“…it is imperative that these incidences are reported to clean-up personnel…”

Someone to her left needed water apparently. They kept coughing and clearing their throat. After the third bout of throat clearing, Leia glanced in the direction of the sound and nearly groaned out loud. Han Solo looked directly at her from several seats away.

He held up four fingers on one hand and lifted his mug of caf to his lips, subtly mouthing the word four before taking a sip.

Leia intended to ignore whatever ridiculousness Han was attempting to rope her into, but he wore such an amused expression — a look she knew from a year of being around the man meant I’m letting you in on a joke — that she felt the need to keep an eye on him, or at least glance his way every minute or so.

“…top priority to keep each and every one of you alive. It is imperative that any instances of daisy-chaining…”

What is Jan going on about? Leia wondered. She could have sworn the agenda for this meeting had been centered entirely on avoiding heat stroke while they were stuck in a rainforest for the foreseeable future, but he had apparently moved on to electrical safety.

Han cleared his throat again and Leia leveled her gaze at him. He surreptitiously held up all five fingers on the same hand as before, mouthed five, and took a sip of caf.

Leia rolled her eyes and focused her attention back on General Dodonna, forcing herself to pay attention.

“…the local wildlife. We know from the research performed by our naturalists that it is imperative to consider…”

Without realizing what she was doing or why she was doing it, Leia glanced at Han expectantly. He had stopped holding up fingers and merely mouthed six before taking sipping from his mug. He noticed Leia looking at him again and winked.

Han raised his hand and Jan barely stopped himself from grimacing. “Yes, Captain Solo? Do you have a question?”

“Yeah, would you say all this is important?”

General Dodonna sputtered in disbelief. “Yes, Captain Solo. Have you be listening at all? It is imperative that crash webbing…”

Leia turned to look at Han right as he mouthed seven and she finally recognized the pattern. He was counting every time Jan said the word imperative. Why he was doing this, Leia assumed, was something only he knew.

Han lingered after the meeting, waiting for Leia to step away from General Dodonna and a few members of the Gold Squadron before approaching her, an easy grin on his face. “You get it?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “What? The fact that you need a lozenge?” Han frowned slightly and Leia decided to put him out of his misery. She leaned toward him slightly and lowered her voice. “Or the fact that General Dodonna said imperative eleven times?”

“It’s the word of the day,” Han said solemnly.

“Clearly.”

“I mean literally.” He glanced over Leia’s head, presumably at Jan to make sure he was occupied, and slipped her a small, folded piece of paper.

Leia unfolded the fragile sheet, wondering why Han was carrying paper around at all when flimsi was so much more durable and readily available on base. The printed side of the slip of paper looked familiar, though Leia couldn’t place her finger on where she had seen it before. It contained the day of the week, the date, and the word imperative along with its definition.

It was a page from one of those cheap daily calendars, the kind with a vocabulary word assigned to each day. They had been all over the Senate offices in a variety of languages — she had been gifted one for Shyriiwook as a tasteless joke once from someone who considered the language of an enslaved species beneath humans. She had been sure to mention to anyone who would listen while in the gifter’s presence that they had inspired her to actually learn the basics of the language in a brazen attempt to make everyone involved feel uncomfortable.

The page Han had handed to her was from a Basic version of the calendar, and Leia realized where she had seen it before. She looked at Han in alarm. “Did you steal this from General Dodonna’s desk?” she hissed.

Han appeared affronted by the question. “‘m a lot of things, Your Worship, but I ain’t a thief.” He paused. “Not in awhile, anyway.”

She was tempted to derail the conversation entirely in order to delve into what length of time the smuggler considered awhile, but Han’s possession of the calendar page seemed more pressing. “How exactly do you have it, then?”

“Dodonna made a special request for his. Figure there had to be somethin’ interesting about it if he was comin’ to me for a favor, so I bought two: one for him, one for me. Turns out the calendars are just as boring as they sound.”

“How disappointing,” Leia said drolly.

Han shrugged. “Nah. Now I get to see how many times I can make him say it. Makes these meetings go by faster at least.”

She grimaced. “You’re supposed to be paying attention during meetings.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “If you can name half of the topics that were talked about in the past hour, I’ll take that job to Fondor you’ve been harassin’ me about.”

Leia raised her eyebrows. “The one you said was a suicide mission?”

“Uh-huh.” He smirked.

They really needed Han to make the run to the Fondor shipyards, and Leia was not beneath winning a bet to secure something so crucial for the Alliance. The only problem was…Well, Jan really had monologued excessively

“Exactly,” Han preened triumphantly after Leia was quiet for an extended period of time.

“The meeting was supposed to be about heat exhaustion and heat stroke warning signs,” she whispered.

“One outta eight ain’t bad, Princess, but it ain’t exactly half.”

She huffed softly, unable to recall more, but certainly unwilling to admit defeat to Han kriffing Solo.

The smuggler read her anyway, apparently. “Need to make a coupla repairs, but we can probably leave for Fondor in the next few days.” He grinned at her, patted her shoulder, and walked away before she could respond, leaving Leia confused, but fairly certain that he’d planned to take the job no matter who had won his bet.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, reminded for what had to be the thousandth time that she would never understand the mind of Han Solo.

*****

Early morning all-hands meetings were particularly miserable on Hoth. In order to speak to everyone at once, they had to schedule the meetings to overlap shifts, which meant Leia had to be out of her quarters long before the sun even considered rising. She was frigid, she had barely managed half a night’s sleep, and nearly every reason for holding an all-hands involved distributing information that no one wanted to hear.

This morning’s meeting held one agenda item: the unfortunate news that the five outposts that hadn’t yet packed up had to postpone their moves to Hoth for at least a week due to some suspicious Imperial activity in the Anoat system, which meant they would continue running Echo Base with skeleton crews for the time being. In addition, they were also looking at a possible lockdown for the base if the activity didn’t diminish soon. General Dodonna had volunteered to break the news, seemingly unbothered by the prospect of the entire rank becoming irritated en masse. Leia had been relieved; she had enough going on without adding the ire of an entire base to her list of things to deal with.

She settled into a seat in the front row, staring at her datapad as others filed into the mess for the meeting. Carlist and couple of officers who had already been briefed on the news were running things in the Command Center, but every other being in the base crammed into the common area, apparently bound and determined to find somewhere to sit or stand that wasn’t the front row of seats. Leia chose not to take their avoidance personally.

Someone settled into the seat next to her, and Leia glanced to the side, catching sight of a blue parka sleeve — outerwear that, though familiar, was certainly not Alliance-issued. She raised her eyes to look at Han, who shoved a mug from the cabinets of the Millennium Falcon into her hands without uttering a word.

“My hero,” she murmured, staring into the mug for a moment before taking a sip. She honestly wasn’t sure if she was talking to Han or the caf.

“Any chance you’ll just tell me what’s goin’ on so I can get back to my bunk?”

Leia shook her head and took another sip of caf. It was the better blend from the Falcon, and though she was appreciative of the gift, she had no plans to break protocol this time. “I need you here so you can react calmly and reasonably to General Dodonna’s announcement in order to keep the peace.” Han, whether he wanted to admit it or not, was looked up to by the majority of the rank. If he didn’t react poorly to the news, often the majority of personnel would fall in line behind him. Plus, the meeting would simply be less dreadful with him next to her, though Leia had no plans to tell him that.

“Need to know what I’m reactin’ to if you want it to seem legit,” he countered.

Before she could answer, Jan took his spot at the front of the room, raising his voice to attract the attention of the everyone in the mess hall. The crowd quieted, and Jan began the announcement.

“Thank you all for being here this morning. I know these all-hands cause a certain level of vexation…”

Han cleared his throat softly and took a sip of his own caf, a signal the Leia had grown incredibly familiar with over the past couple of years. She hazarded a glance and a smile in his direction, though she wasn’t convinced that his assessment was right, and continued to listen for another possible candidate for General Jan Dodonna’s word of the day.

Determining which word would grace that day’s calendar page had become part of the game. Han still had a copy — he purchased a duplicate every year — but he had sworn that he wouldn’t look at it without Leia present, and from what she could tell, he hadn’t broken that promise so far. It had become a bit of a tradition, looking at that day’s page after dinner. Even on days Leia was so busy that she ate at her desk, she could expect a thin, small piece of paper to be slipped to her at some point during the evening as long as Han was planetside.

Guessing the word of the day correctly was the only real way to win, but counting the number of times Jan used it kept them both entertained. Leia had grown to sort of revel in the fact that no one seemed to notice her silent exchanges with Han during meetings. Their silly little game was their secret, and one she felt was worth keeping.

The word quintessential piqued Leia’s interest; it seemed a more likely candidate than vexation to her. After two more uses of the latter, however, she had to concede defeat, and resigned herself to simply count Jan’s uses of the word for the rest of the meeting, exchanging silent glances with Han as they took sips of caf with each one.

Half an hour and ten uses of the word later, Han raised his hand. “I ain’t bothered by the precautions; seems pretty reasonable, and I’m sure everyone here agrees. But have we heard from the outposts? How’re they feelin’?”

Jan raised his eyebrows slightly, seemingly pleased by the question. He nodded. “Yes, we have, and we are aware of the general consensus of vexation among the officers…

Han looked directly at Leia, took a sip of his caf, and grinned.

After the meeting adjourned, Leia spent the rest of the long day addressing questions and being generally unavailable for anything other than Alliance work well past dinner. She was able to hurry through the food line, taking the most convenient options available so she could get back to her desk quickly. When she made it back mere minutes after leaving, a small square of paper sat face up in the middle of her desk, the word vexation printed in the center in bold letters.

[anonymous-dentist]

I don't have a lot of stuff to ask but I'll at least try to think of some

1) How has your day been?

2) Do you have any characters you wish to write about one day, but haven't written about them yet?

3) Is there a type of AU that, regardless of the characters, you want to write about someday?

4) Do you have a favorite AU, both to write about and read yourself?

5) What are some other types of content you like to watch? I know you mentioned Joel / SmallishBeans before, but are there any others?

6) If you could do an AU where you take x character and put them in y universe (Like taking Joel and putting him into qsmp as an example), what do you think would be the most interesting?

7) If you could have any pet in the world, regardless of laws, what would it be? What would you name it?

8) Same question as before, but add fantasy creatures to a mix.

I'll come back if I can think of more

My day has been very very boring except for the fact that I got to fulfill a childhood dream this morning and jump out of the back of a school bus

I want to write literally anything hermitcraft/life series, but I just. Can’t! No matter how hard I try! Nothing seems to click for me

I want to write a western or a space au. I’m just waiting for the opportunity

I like writing supernatural aus, and I like reading… just about anything tbh, I’m not super picky

I watch science stuff! I REALLY like weird science, space science, ocean science, animal science… any science! I watch a lot of wildlife and space documentaries. I also watch Watcher when they’re doing Mystery Files or just Horror Content, but Steven pisses me off so

Put Jimmy Solidarity in Purgatory 2. Have him get chased by Cellbit and Baghera and have Grian in the chat going “Just run faster” every time he gets killed

I would want a red panda and I would name it either Pickles or Mike. Or just a regular panda, also named Mike. Why? Well, I’ve been collecting stuffed panda toys since I was a literal infant, and the first one I ever got was named Mike, and I need to keep the tradition alive

GIVE ME POKÉMON!! If I was in the Pokémon world, my team would be Pancham, Growlithe, Fuecoco, and Mudsdale (my only fully evolved member because it’s probably my fav Pokémon EVER)

[cosmicanger]

Chough

By: Unknown photographer

From: Wildlife Fact-File

1990s

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #84

Today, J, Br, and I went to the library for a work date. Br had homework, J had his remote work, and I was cutting wires to weave new trees while listening to that playlist that I spoke on recently.

I cut A LOT of wire for trees; at least 7 trees worth. I'll show you:

Although I already had a few coils of wire, I decided to spend the time cutting more. Truth be told, I don't really like working with the gold or silver wire; it's stiffer, harder to twist, and more brittle than other kinds of wire of the same gauge, for whatever reason. Sharper, too; trying to move some of the gold coils around, I ended up poking my fingers enough to draw a little bit of blood, which is really no big deal, but it's still kind of annoying.

Each coil of wire has 27 strands, the length of each being approximately the distance between the tip of my left index finger to the bend of my left elbow. There are so many strands because it takes three strands to weave a branch, three branches to weave a section of a tree, and three sections to make a whole tree.

I got really into the groove of it, though, and before I knew it, 4 hours passed and it felt only like 20 minutes; I really dropped the ball on my hydration game today because of it. I'm sorry about that; I can't exactly implore you to take good care of yourself if I'm not being attentive to the maintenance of my own body, right? So I'll do better tomorrow.

Oh right - speaking of pokey things, though I got the first dose of an HPV vaccine yesterday, and to my surprise, I feel pretty much unaffected by it today. I had heard that this one can sometimes knock people on their ass, and I'm glad that my DNA seems to be such that this isn't the case. Or maybe it's just that this one isn't as bad as I had heard. Either way, I'm not sad about the fact that I don't feel like hot garbage today! Gotta appreciate the little things, right?

After we did a decent amount of work, J, Br, and I left the library to take a walk in its general vicinity. It was almost 60 degrees F in my area today (or 15.5 degrees C if metric is your thing); the walk was lovely. But my brain was still "extended-tendrils-esque" from cutting wire for such a long time, so I was quiet (but not in bad spirits!) for most of it; I'm glad that I get to spend time in the company of folks who don't mind when I'm not animated. The fact that I don't have to mask my autistic traits with Br and J takes a lot of the pressure off of existing in general.

Oh, um! Maybe you don't know what Tendril Theory is. Here's something that can explain it; I didn't make this:

I wished you could come on the walk with us. I passed some interesting-looking houses that I didn't take pictures of, because it seems maybe a little rude to take a picture of a specific person's house without their permission. But one of the houses had a lot of bits and baubles hanging from their trees and shrubs and trellises; it was a marvelous sight to witness. I think my favorite decoration was the glass grapes hanging from a cute-looking trellis. I wish you could have seen them; they were VERY sparkly. I wonder if you would have liked to look at them, too.

We have since returned home, and M continues to go through the second portion of your story. He's finishing up the quests around Cosmo Canyon. It's a beautiful area, and it's wonderful to get a glimpse of the architecture and the handicrafts and the local flora and fauna. I love that there are descriptions of the wild creatures (it makes me sad to hear them be called "fiends") and their dispositions, diets, life cycles, and whatever else. It's like reading through one of those old Wildlife Fact File binders - we had one of these things when I was a little girl; if you've been reading my letters, I imagine you won't be surprised to learn that this was one of my favorite things to read when I was young, haha!

Oh. Right. You… probably have no idea what that looks like. Here:

They're super thick binders filled with folding pages all about some of the animals in my world:

I kinda wish I could send along one of these to you, somehow. I know from watching M wander around that your world has a lot of the same animals that mine does, but we don't have things like chocobos or dragons or cockatrices or basilisks, so I wonder if there are animals in my world that you don't have.

Oh! You know. It occurs to me that you don't have horses in your world. I think maybe you might like horses, so maybe sometime I'll write to you about them. But not today, because I'm tired. Though you can probably tell I'm tired, since I'm rambling. Haha...

Hey, Sephiroth? I wonder if you have a favorite animal. I know you can't tell me what it is (because obviously), but still I'll ask. I'll ask because everyone deserves to have someone care enough about them to ask what their favorite animal is. As for me… it's kind of a toss-up between orcas and barn owls. If you don't have those, maybe I'll tell you about those, too, in some other letter.

Please stay safe out there in the meantime. There are lots of people in my world who are counting on you to turn yourself around and come back in one piece, so try really hard, okay? I'll be cheering for your healing and recovery, because these things are possible, no matter how far we fall down.

I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine