#or some form of professional help

[star-blitz]

long rant incoming. i had to get this off my chest.

tw: brief mentions of suicide, general absurdist disassociation :)))

a great flaw in the human design (if humans were designed at all) is that we start with a blank sheet of paper. utterly clueless. miniature creatures that have barely developed enough to be thrust into the world and figure it out. so, to respond to this overwhelming situation, babies learn things quickly and make them fundamental truths in their lives. they have to, for stability, for something concrete to hold onto, but the concrete is an illusion. we're painting styrofoam grey and praying it holds out for the rest of our lives.

because these rules do persist throughout the rest of our lives, both the ones we learn ourselves and the ones our parents teach us, whether consciously or subconsciously. family is made of one mom and one dad, and they're here to take care of me. the ground hurts so maybe don't bang your head on it. crying gets you what you want. there are also the rules we learn when we're a little older - pink is for girls, god created everything, being smart is good. and these rules work just fine for you, until one day you're eighteen and there's no rational way that jesus actually died and came back to life, and couldn't God just not make alcohol/drugs in the first place if they were so bad for us and why should I feel ashamed of the natural human sexual behaviour that god himself created (allegedly)?

suddenly it doesn't make sense. the illusion is dwindling, flickering at the edges. the styrofoam is disintegrating. it's starting to rot from the inside out. 

i've always been fascinated by this hypothetical science experiment. super unethical, obviously. but I've always wanted to know how it would affect humans to grow up on a completely different set of rules. what if we took 25 newborn babies and stuck them in a room and taught them that blue was actually red and men are only supposed to fall in love with other men and yellow is actually the colour for girls? what if they grew up in a room where gender didn't exist, where apples were a delicacy and caviar was served to the platypuses, who are the actual appropriate domestic pet? these are all totally harmless things. 'facts' that are actually just pure human construction. there are, of course, more unethical rules you could impress upon their young minds. murder is actually good for society. death is desirable. polyamory is satanic and 'satanic' is a positive adjective because in this version of events, satan was the good guy and god was the villain; in fact, one should cheat on their partner as often as possible. 

i can't help but fantasize about what it would have been like if i was born into an atheist family and the idea of god was never presented to me. or at least not at an early enough age with such absolute resolve that god became one of my concrete tethers, one of my absolute facts. because now i'm starting to question whether god exists at all and i think i'm shocking my system. it simply can't compute this new fact i'm trying to present it with. it just doesn't know what to do with itself. i'm fracturing its safety blank, the it she constructed when it was still so terrified of this big world and searching for a foundation. 

i'm starting to lose my mind to the realization that there is no such thing as reality. over the years, I began noticing it in small pieces, bite size, mostly digestible. i started thinking about how time was entirely made up by humans; who decided how long a second lasted anyways? no one actually knows what an atom looks like, we're all just guessing. god is the biggest guess of them all. we are a speck of sand in a desert that is a speck of sand in all the deserts that have ever existed. we know nothing, so we comfort ourselves with the fruitless pursuit of knowledge. isn't it crazy that the closest we can get to scientific fact is just a theory? 

someone else must feel this way, surely. someone must share this feeling that I am an idiot, surrounded by idiots, wandering in a place without knowing how I got here, how this all came to be or what it all means. the lack of control is enough to make you want to kill yourself. the lack of knowing is enough to drive you insane while you build up the courage. 

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ANY OF THIS?

WHY AM I HERE?

WHY DO I EXIST AT THE SAME TIME AS 5G SATELLITES, MASS DEFORESTATION, SO KATE LOUBOUTINS AND THE TRUMP ADMINISTRATION?

i know i will never get any answers. perhaps because there aren't any. the likelihood of god existing or not is the same as the likelihood for any deity out there existing or not. it's 50/50. it's a yes or no. i know there's no use driving myself crazy about this and wasting away whatever little precious time i have on this earth. i cant be one of those idiots who spends their whole life contemplating life and forgets to actually live it. but it's so all-encompassing. so grossly overwhelming. sometimes i think it would be nice to push all this to the back of my mind, let it linger like an afterthought, let myself feel the thrill of not knowing and choosing to live my life anyway. like tightroping over a canyon untethered. if i look down, i will fall. i need to keep my eyes focused straight ahead. 

[mariocki]

Don't Answer the Phone! (1980)

"Don't you give a shit about getting this strangler off the streets?"

"What would you prescribe for the man, a firing squad?"

"That's not a bad idea. Mainly I don't want him back on the streets in a few years - or sooner, if some misguided shrink discovers he can find his ass in the dark with both hands."

[bitchy-peachy]

I really wish that antis stopped using real life sa victims in their shit especially since they tell real life sa victims that we deserved our assaults cos we all handle our trauma differently.

[keeperthemultiversemom]

If you are the multiverse mom.. And the original wh au is technically a part of the multiverse, does that mean the original cast is also your children?

*Peacekeeper chuckles*

"What a fun question ! Well, first of all... The original "Welcome Home" show is well... The original ! So not really an AU... According to what the others told me, the original is unnaccessible to multiversers. What can be accessed are variants, copies, if you will. I came from one myself !

Now... I suppose I am pretty motherly, so I would likely be motherly with them too ! But I'm pretty sure they wouldn't actually be my "children"... I have very few I consider my "children", actually"

[thedandelionresistance]

Repeat after me: something being unhealthy or otherwise causing the person doing it distress does not make it morally wrong.

(This is part of healthism.)

[fruitsofhell]

WE HAVE TO FUCKING NORMALIZE PEOPLE WITH PERSONALITY DISORDERS AAA (runs into oncoming traffic)

[lightkidshenannies]

insert rant about the devs only caring about discord here

[bowlifecomics]

Note: I am by no means a professional in health or otherwise. This is personal experience. I made this as a metaphor to help my parents understand me better.

Edit:

yeah I can see why some people aren’t comfortable with the this metaphor. No I’m not saying we are not human. We are very much human. I just wanted an excuse to draw the tbh creature. Also it’s only a way of saying how extroverted neurotypicals “adopt” people like me. Also I tried to make it clear that they aren’t pets, and it’s just their form that’s different. ADHD creature sitting and talking to the other person on the couch as an example

[mohammedaldeeb]

⏰ 🚨 attention please🙏🚨

I am Dr. Mohammed Aldeeb,🩸💉 a dedicated specialist in emergency medical care from the Gaza Strip.

💊 🩺🩹

For years, I poured my heart and soul into my work at Al-Shifa Hospital, striving to be a doctor of great repute,

caring for the wounded and the ill with compassion and skill.💉🩹

However😥,

the devastation of war disrupted our lives and prevented us from serving our patients at Al-Shifa Hospital😣💔,

forcing me to leave my cherished home and the familiar walls of the hospital that had become my second home, a place of comfort, peace, and beautiful memories of my work.😔

As I left behind the echoes of laughter and camaraderie with my colleagues, patients, and friends,😰

I embarked on a painful journey southward. I bid farewell to the streets where I grew up, the corners I sought refuge in😥😭💔, and the colleagues who felt like family.

Memories of my formative years and the countless lives I touched during my tenure at Al-Shifa 😣and other medical facilities, such as Friends of the Patient Hospital and the Indonesian Hospital, overwhelmed me as I struggled to come to terms with the upheaval.😔😥

Despite the adversities that besieged me,

I held fast to my dream of becoming a successful doctor. 😀😁✌💚

I was fortunate enough to study medicine at Al-Azhar University, from which I graduated and later served as a teaching assistant, imparting knowledge to aspiring medical students with unwavering dedication. 😀🙏🖤

The idea of specializing in internal medicine drew me back to Al-Shifa Hospital, but sadly,

the brutal war destroyed it, shattering my hopes.In the midst of the chaos and destruction brought by war🥺😣💔

I sustained multiple injuries and narrowly escaped with my life. 🥺

The sanctuary of my home, a place of peace and beautiful memories, was completely destroyed, leaving my family and me impoverished and homeless. 😣💔😰

Yet, amidst the ruins, a glimmer of hope persists as I continue my work at Al-Aqsa Hospital😀, extending a helping hand to those in need without expecting anything in return. I draw strength from the humanity and love instilled in me by my teachers and mentors during my years of education and service.✌😁❤

Today, we find ourselves taking refuge in a humble tent, ⛺ 😭😣💔

stripped of our possessions and livelihoods. The loss of my job, my home, and some of my loved ones is a heavy burden to bear. 😢

Nevertheless, I refuse to succumb to despair, holding on to the belief that brighter days lie ahead.

With a heavy heart, I reach out to you🥺🙏💚

dear reader, seeking your assistance in securing safe passage for myself and my family from the chaos and brutality of war in Gaza. 🥺🙏🇵🇸🍉💔🖤💛💝

With your kindness and generosity🥺, I hope to reclaim the path to achieving my medical career, 🩺💉🩸

becoming a specialist in internal medicine, and returning to help my people.

This would enable me to provide care for my loved ones and contribute to the healing of our wounded nation.Your compassionate aid would mean the world to me and my family.🥺🙏❤🇵🇸✌

Please note that our campaign is vetted

Thanks @90-ghost ... link vetted

Thanks @el-shab-hussein ...link vetted

Thanks @mangocheesecakes ...link vetted

Thanks @horrorhorizon...link vetted

Thanks @nabulsi (number 212)

With gratitude and hope,💜💙

Dr. Mohammed AldeebGaza Strip

WhatsApp: 00972599095244

[hayatheauthor]

10 Flaws to Give Your Perfect Characters to Make Them Human

If you're tired of the usual vices like arrogance or impatience, here are some unique (or at least less basic) character flaws to give your perfect characters: 

Pathological Altruism

A character so obsessed with helping others that they end up doing more harm than good. Their inability to let others grow or face consequences creates tension.

2. Moral Narcissism

A character who sees themselves as morally superior to others, constantly justifying selfish or harmful actions because they believe they have the moral high ground.

3. Chronic Self-Sabotage

A character who intentionally undermines their own success, perhaps due to deep-seated feelings of unworthiness, pushing them into frustrating, cyclical failures.

4. Emotional Numbness

Rather than feeling too much, this character feels too little. Their lack of emotional response to critical moments creates isolation and makes it difficult for them to connect with others.

5. Fixation on Legacy

This character is obsessed with how they’ll be remembered after death, often sacrificing present relationships and happiness for a future that’s uncertain.

6. Fear of Irrelevance

A character-driven by the fear that they no longer matter, constantly seeking validation or pursuing extreme measures to stay important in their social or professional circles.

7. Addiction to Novelty

Someone who needs constant newness in their life, whether it’s experiences, relationships, or goals. They may abandon projects, people, or causes once the excitement fades, leaving destruction in their wake.

8. Compulsive Truth-Telling

A character who refuses to lie, even in situations where a lie or omission would be the kinder or more pragmatic choice. This flaw causes unnecessary conflict and social alienation.

9. Over-Identification with Others' Pain

Instead of empathy, this character feels others' pain too intensely, to the point that they can’t function properly in their own life. They’re paralyzed by the suffering of others and fail to act effectively.

10. Reluctant Power

A character who fears their own strength, talent, or influence and is constantly trying to shrink themselves to avoid the responsibility or consequences of wielding it.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! Instagram Tiktok

PS: This is my first short-form blog post! Lmk if you liked it and want to see more (I already have them scheduled you don't have a choice)

[thethingything]

I'm really torn over how to feel about a bunch of stuff. on the one hand the oral surgeon was really friendly and is the only medical professional who's ever said "so what type of EDS do you have?" because he wanted to check how it'd impact some stuff, meanwhile we usually have to explain what EDS even is. he seemed pretty familiar with it and also checked what meds we're okay with and said the reaction we had to clarithromycin recently is why it's not typically prescribed for adults anymore. all that stuff made me feel pretty confident about things going alright.

and then sedation and general anaesthetic got brought up, and medical bills got brought up, and we had a panic attack and took multiple attempts to try and ask one question because we couldn't phrase it in a way that made sense, and then we asked some other stuff and ended up panicking even more and just sitting there crying and he made a comment that I think was meant to be reassuring but mostly just made it seem like he really doesn't get what we're so freaked out about, and now our brain has gone from "I'm mostly just deeply uncomfortable with the concept of sedation" to "I absolutely do not want to be uncoscious around medical professionals at all" and I do not fucking know what to do about this.

I keep trying to distract myself. our brain keeps bringing this shit up again regardless and then I have a panic attack on the spot. I've lost track of both how many panic attacks I've had today, and how many times I've almost thrown up, but both thing happened several times in the car and then happened again while we were getting showered.

I already wasn't sure how the fuck we're going to handle this, but now I feel significantly worse about it because I've mostly just gotten confirmation that the stuff I find most distressing about the situation is not only unavoidable, but also definitely going to be worse than I'd registered until now

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears��the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[wriokitty]

part two

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

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Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”

[aureatelys]

hotch being super touchy with bau!reader during a night out with the team and like cannot wait until they’re home or something ? (idk if this helps!!)

citrus

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 1.5k c.w.: fluff!! suggestive content, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, needy touchy hotch <3

a/n: thank you so much for the request! i realize now while typing this that you may have been asking for horny hotch but instead i give you needy hotch with a touch of horny. not my best work but i hope you like it <33

You first start to suspect something’s wrong when Hotch sits next to you on the jet.

Not that Hotch sitting next to you was an abnormal occurrence, however ever since you two came clean about your relationship with the rest of the team, both of you made the effort to maintain as professional as possible. Which meant not sharing hotel rooms even though you’re sure the budget manager wouldn’t complain, no favoritism, and no PDA.

The no PDA rule was particularly difficult for you because, how could you not touch him?

The team had just finished up a kidnapping case in Florida. Nearly two weeks of suffocating in the humidity and dealing with swarms of mosquitos every time you stepped outside of the precinct. The relief from being in a familiar setting and the working AC is tangible when you plop down into a window seat facing the front of the cabin.

When you notice Hotch approaching you and taking the seat next to yours, you barely hide the surprise on your face. Hotch just merely raises an eyebrow at you before he jumps into debriefing.

Afterwards, when everyone has either fallen asleep or victim to playing chess with Spencer, Hotch knocks his knee against yours.

You look up from your book, a question forming on the tip of your tongue, when you notice Hotch hunched over his files and eyebrows creased in concentration.

It must have been an accident, you think. Except he does it again.

“You okay?” you ask, placing your bookmark and setting your book aside. It’s not like you were paying attention anyway, having had read the page at least two times by now.

“Fine,” he mutters, not unkindly, before scribbling something at the bottom of a file and moving onto the next one.

The past two weeks had been difficult for everyone, and the week before wasn’t any easier. You assume that Hotch was just itching to go back to your shared apartment to check on Jack before passing out in your bed.

And then he bumps against your knee again.

You don’t say anything this time, instead picking up your book and hitting your knee back against his. You just barely catch the corners of his mouth quirking up.

-

You could’ve sworn Hotch was going to decline tagging along with you when you decided to go out to O’Keefe’s with the rest of the team as soon as you landed. You were even expecting a glare, silently telling you that everyone needs to go home to get some rest and that he is driving you two back to the apartment whether you like it or not.

You start to think Hotch is really up to something now when he shrugs and agrees to tag along with you, promising just one drink.

And then, Hotch rests his arm on the console while driving, his hand worryingly close to your thigh despite Reid and JJ sitting in the backseat. Then, he’s placing a large hand on the small of your back when you’re walking into the bar, causing a shiver to run up your spine despite the warm evening air. Then, he sidles up next to you in the booth, thighs pressing against each other and his wide shoulder brushing against yours. It’s a lot of touching, which you’re clearly fine with, but touching from Hotch, at work, several times in the span of 30 minutes?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, having to lean in to be heard over the music even with his good ear.

Hotch raises his eyebrows at you over his drink. “I told you, I’m fine.”

And it’s like you’re able to see the idea form in his head, having spent so much time with him on and off the clock that you’ve luckily gotten better at reading him.

You still nearly jump out of your seat when Aaron places his warm hand on your thigh, underneath the table where nobody else was able to see.

You’ve gotten used to how touchy Aaron can be behind closed doors. At home, he’s constantly touching you—an arm around your waist, a finger tracing the curve of your jaw, or a kiss pressed at the crown of your head.

But this? A hand on your thigh at a bar in front of your coworkers?

You can feel the heat of his palm seep through your pants, annoyingly close to where you really want him the most. Is that what this is about?

“You two lovebirds alright over there?” Emily calls from the other side of the table, looking spectacularly sober despite you witnessing her downing shot after shot.

The sudden weight of 7 different pairs of eyes on you has you even more frazzled because Aaron’s hand only squeezes the flesh of your thigh while he glances at you casually, his free hand wrapped around an old-fashioned.

“Just talking about how I need another drink,” you say, hoping that your voice doesn’t sound as strained to them as it does to you. And technically it is true as you shake your glass to emphasize the ice cubes clinking around with no fruity drink accompanying it.

When you notice Garcia’s mouth open to volunteer to come with you, you scramble up out of the booth, glad that you chose the outside spot, and weave your way through the crowd to the bar. You try to ignore the way the right side of your body suddenly feels colder without Hotch’s body pressed up against yours.

You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The only thing keeping you from spinning around to maybe unethically flash your badge is the familiar weight of Hotch’s palm pressed against your hip and the citrusy smell of whiskey on his breath against your ear.

A giggle bubbles out of you, instinctively leaning back against his chest. You’re secretly glad that he left his suit jacket in the car, leaving you to ogle the way the crisp white dress shirt stretches over his shoulders. “Seriously, what is with you today?”

His lips ghost over your ear, the low tone of his voice making your knees weak. “I’m not allowed to touch my girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing that.

You lean even harder into him, one of your hands coming down to grab at his toned forearm as you reach for your finished drink. “Of course you can. I just can’t remember the last time you’ve been this touchy in front of everyone, or ever really.”

“I don’t hear any complaints.”

“I might start if you don’t kiss me.” And it’s mostly to just poke fun at him because Hotch hasn’t even held hands with you in front of the team, much less kiss you in a crowded bar with them undoubtedly watching and whispering amongst themselves.

You’re expecting Hotch to huff a laugh against your ear, letting go and stepping away from you. Maybe even him holding your hand while he leads you through the dance floor and back to your booth to humor you.

You don’t expect Hotch’s free hand to come up and cradle your chin, tilting your face towards his almost uncomfortably to press his lips against yours. It’s soft, chaste even, but the fact that he’s kissing you in front of your colleagues and strangers, in a crowded bar with the loud music nearly thrumming through your veins, makes you feel hot all over.

His arm tightens around you, spinning you around until you’re facing him, and he swallows the gasp you unintentionally let out as he deepens the kiss, your mouth instinctively parting. You’ve been dating for months but kissing him still feels like that very first time in his office, the hard edge of his desk digging into your hip and the glow of the sunset highlighting the clear affection in his eyes.

When you pull back, you notice a pink tinge high on his cheeks and the way his tongue peeks out to lick his lips, as if chasing the taste of your fruity cocktail. “What was that for?”

“Just letting you know that I can’t wait to take you home,” he says, pulling you until the entire line of your body is pressed against his. Your hand unconsciously comes to rest on his chest and you’re not sure if you can feel the bass line for the song playing or the thudding of his heart.

His hands start trailing down to your ass and you seriously wonder how touchier he can get.

But, like you realized earlier, it’s been weeks since you’ve had alone time with Hotch. So, you untangle yourself from him despite his protests and slip your hand in his pocket to retrieve the car keys. You grin when it’s Hotch’s turn to jump.

“I’ll meet you at the car?”

“I already said bye to them for us, let’s go.”

And then he’s pulling you towards the exit with his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist. You barely have the chance to peer over the moving crowd to see the rest of your team waving at you, wearing shit-eating grins.

[specialagentartemis]

Some good things happening at the local level: Land Back edition

The Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians purchased back 2,000 acres of deeply historically significant land in Oregon, the site of both a massacre of Native people at the hands of the US army, and the site of a treaty signing that established a temporary truce and reservation. (Posted Jan 21, 2025)

The property was purchased directly from the previous landowner. The Nature Conservancy preserves a conservation easement on the land. The Siletz will continue to work closely with the Nature Conservancy and the BLM across the properties in the region to emphasize conservation and restoration. “To me, land back means, in its purest form, its return of lands to a tribe,” Kentta [citizen of the Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians and the tribal council treasurer] said. “This is through purchase, and a significant amount paid out for the purchase. So for us, that is regaining of land back, but it's not a settlement or apology for things that happened in the past.”

The Tule River Tribe in California is moving forward with a plan to buy back 14,673 acres of rivers, forests, ranchland, and wetland in a conservation project partnering with The Conservation Fund, the Wildlife Conservation Board, and various California conservation organizations. It's set to move into Tule River control (or at least co-management? unclear to me) sometime this year. (Posted January 8, updated January 10, 2025)

Charmaine McDarment, chairwoman of the Tule River Tribal Council, said in a press release that the tribe appreciates help in restoring ancestral homelands. “As the climate crisis brings new pressures to address the effects of environmental mismanagement and resource degradation, the Tribe’s partnership with WCB is an important example of building relationships based in collaboration and trust. “The tribe remains committed to supporting co-stewardship efforts and fighting to ensure that disproportionate harms to Native American lands, culture, and resources are resolved in a manner that centers and honors Native American connections to ancestral lands.”

Illinois lawmakers voted to move Shabbona Lake State Park to the management of The Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation.  The Illinois governor has a lot on his plate right now, but is expected to sign the bill into law. (Posted January 14, 2025)

The state House approved SB 867, which would transfer Shabbona Lake State Park to the Prairie Band Potawatomi. The bill now heads to Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker for his signature.  The land transfer hinges on an agreement that the tribe continue to operate the property as a park, still open to the public. Final details will be established in a forthcoming land management agreement between the state and tribe.  Prairie Band Potawatomi Chairman Joseph “Zeke” Rupnick said the bill’s passage was a “meaningful step” toward righting a historic old wrong. The land was originally part of the tribe's 1,280-acre reservation in northern Illinois. During Chief Shab-eh-nay's visit to family in Kansas, the land was unlawfully auctioned off, violating federal requirements for Congressional approval of tribal land sales. The tribe has sought to reclaim the land for nearly two centuries.

A Wabanaki food sovereignty group secured a no-strings-attached land deal to buy 245 acres of farm and forest in Maine, to focus on local, traditional, and sustainable foods. (Posted January 19, 2025)

What sets this purchase apart is that the land transfer comes without conservation easements. These easements, which frequently accompany land returns or transfers, are often well-meaning. However, they can inhibit Indigenous stewardship by preventing practices such as prescribed burning, subdivision, or particular kinds of zoning for buildings or infrastructure.  A coalition of 12 organizations and several private donors helped secure the land for Niweskok [a nonprofit collective of Wabanaki farmers, health professionals, and educators] without easements, giving the Wabanaki nonprofit sovereignty over the property, according to Heather Rogers, Land Protection Program director for Coastal Mountain Land Trust. Her organization has helped finance the Goose River purchase through fundraising and advocacy efforts.  “The land trusts had to approach it with humility - there are other ways to care for land that can end up with better outcomes, and I think we have all come to that realization,” Rogers said. “I think now that we've done it once, I think we would be open to doing it again that way.” 

Conservation, food sovereignty, water management - a few hundred acres here, a thousand acres there, there is movement to put lands back in tribal control, which is a human rights win as well as an ecology/conservation one.  This is mostly happening at state and even private levels, and is something to continue advocating for, pushing for, donating to, and finding out if you have any local movements advocating for this kind of thing near you and calling state-level lawmakers and representatives about.

[river-taxbird]

There is no such thing as AI.

How to help the non technical and less online people in your life navigate the latest techbro grift.

I've seen other people say stuff to this effect but it's worth reiterating. Today in class, my professor was talking about a news article where a celebrity's likeness was used in an ai image without their permission. Then she mentioned a guest lecture about how AI is going to help finance professionals. Then I pointed out, those two things aren't really related.

The term AI is being used to obfuscate details about multiple semi-related technologies.

Traditionally in sci-fi, AI means artificial general intelligence like Data from star trek, or the terminator. This, I shouldn't need to say, doesn't exist. Techbros use the term AI to trick investors into funding their projects. It's largely a grift.

What is the term AI being used to obfuscate?

If you want to help the less online and less tech literate people in your life navigate the hype around AI, the best way to do it is to encourage them to change their language around AI topics.

By calling these technologies what they really are, and encouraging the people around us to know the real names, we can help lift the veil, kill the hype, and keep people safe from scams. Here are some starting points, which I am just pulling from Wikipedia. I'd highly encourage you to do your own research.

Machine learning (ML): is an umbrella term for solving problems for which development of algorithms by human programmers would be cost-prohibitive, and instead the problems are solved by helping machines "discover" their "own" algorithms, without needing to be explicitly told what to do by any human-developed algorithms. (This is the basis of most technologically people call AI)

Language model: (LM or LLM) is a probabilistic model of a natural language that can generate probabilities of a series of words, based on text corpora in one or multiple languages it was trained on. (This would be your ChatGPT.)

Generative adversarial network (GAN): is a class of machine learning framework and a prominent framework for approaching generative AI. In a GAN, two neural networks contest with each other in the form of a zero-sum game, where one agent's gain is another agent's loss. (This is the source of some AI images and deepfakes.)

Diffusion Models: Models that generate the probability distribution of a given dataset. In image generation, a neural network is trained to denoise images with added gaussian noise by learning to remove the noise. After the training is complete, it can then be used for image generation by starting with a random noise image and denoise that. (This is the more common technology behind AI images, including Dall-E and Stable Diffusion. I added this one to the post after as it was brought to my attention it is now more common than GANs.)

I know these terms are more technical, but they are also more accurate, and they can easily be explained in a way non-technical people can understand. The grifters are using language to give this technology its power, so we can use language to take it's power away and let people see it for what it really is.