#theory time lets gooo

[miiiauu]

theory time:

flamechasers?? flame chase journey??? CMON ITS RIGHT THERE

im not sayinf theyre identical or anything but LOOK the hair the purple sleeves the only thing off is the shift in eye color and like THE NECKLACE

acheron is alr here HELL welt and himeko and sushang are here; im not too much into hi3 but the similarities in design are no mistake

i feel like its ironic bc shes phainons friend, and elysia is the herrscher of ego (human) and the fact that phainon is meant to be the chyrsos heir of kephale, the tiran of yk, THE WORLD?? HUMANITY??

idk rly know what it means long term or lore wise but i feel like its intentional

[just-space-055]

GUYS, remember the post i made about The Herta's rating? How it said "The score is limitless. It cannot be calculated!" and how that was different to all the other "rating invalid" characters we had before? WELL TURNS OUT IT WASN'T.

(Credit to u/Random_Bystander089 on reddit for this photo and their post explaining this!)

TURNS OUT IT WAS JUST A TRANSLATION ISSUE. In the original it was stated as same as the others but the EN translation team translated it differently this time.

Also apperantly the Chinese version they use on all the other "rating invalid" characters also means "limitless/undeterminable" so it's more of a different translation case rather than a mistranslation one. (Credit to u/TinyBluePebble on the comments from that post, you can check it out if you want to!)

SO THE EMANATOR THEORY IS STILL GOING STRONG!! 5* EMANATOR SAMPO LETS GOOO

[ssa-dado]

12 - Goodbyes & Partners

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader Genre: uuum you tell me Summary: The BAU team discovers that Hotch had a former partner, a brilliant female profiler who left the unit abruptly. Gideon reveals you were one of the best, sparking curiosity among the team. As they dig deeper, they uncover your impressive credentials, speculation grows about your close relationship with Hotch, with theories ranging from unspoken feelings to complicated personal dynamics. Warnings: none - or at least that's what I think - who would have thought. Word Count: 7.1k Dado's Corner: OKKKKK let's gooo! First time meeting Aaron's children the team, who's excited?! Peter canonically the most hated character of this fic. This chapter, like many others in this fic, has a sister chapter coming up in exactly 7 hours. After leaving you with your mouth dry yesterday, I figured it’s only fair to keep the anticipation going! Let me know what you think of the team! Also if you have ideas for this particular fic, my inbox is opened, feel free to leave as many suggestions as you would like!

previous chapter ; masterlist

No one at the BAU was ever good with goodbyes.

It was a team built on unspoken bonds and shared burdens, a group of people who had seen the darkest parts of the world and each other. For all the skills they had in reading human behavior, they were never quite able to express what it felt like to lose one of their own. Words often felt inadequate, insufficient to capture the weight of what they’d been through together: the late nights, the close calls, the quiet moments that held more significance than any case file.

Goodbyes were messy, uncomfortable, and often avoided altogether.

Rossi had been the first to leave, and even though Hotch knew he had been restless for months, it still came as a shock. One day, Rossi was there, with his dry humor and his endless stories, and the next, his office was empty, the walls bare, as if he had never really been there at all, if it weren’t for Gideon’s call, he would have never reached out. Only later he left behind a brief note, neatly folded on Hotch’s desk, with a few lines about “needing a change” and “time to start the next chapter.” It was classic Rossi: vague, detached, like he didn’t want to make a fuss. Hotch had read the note a multitude of times, hoping to find some hidden message, but there was nothing. No explanation, no real goodbye. Just Rossi, slipping away on his own terms, halfway to his next adventure before anyone had a chance to ask him to stay.

Then the most recent was Gideon’s. After Boston, after the case that had broken him in ways none of them had fully understood, Gideon’s silence was deafening. Hotch remembered the last time he’d seen him, sitting alone in his office, staring blankly at the case files scattered across his desk. Gideon hadn’t said a word, hadn’t offered any explanation or farewell. He just looked up, his eyes hollow and distant, and Hotch knew that whatever had been holding him together had finally snapped. By the next morning, Gideon was gone, his desk cleared out, his badge left behind like a discarded shell of who he once was. There were no letters, no phone calls, just the ghost of a man who had once been a legend in the field but was now too broken to even say goodbye.

Both of those men had left him with new responsibilities: Rossi’s departure had made him a lead profiler, and Gideon’s exit had eventually thrust him into the role of Unit Chief. Though Hotch had always been an ambitious person, the way he’d earned his promotions often felt like a double-edged sword, each step up tinged with a sense of loss. It was as if there was an unspoken rule that he could never fully enjoy his achievements without bearing the weight of the absences that had made them possible, leaving him to wonder if success always had to come at such a cost.

Hotch had never mastered the art of letting people go. The departures always felt like tearing pages out of a story that had been written together, each blank space a reminder of what had been lost.

But you, you were different.

You were the only one who was extraordinary at goodbyes.

It had been a few months after his wedding when you made your announcement. The BAU had just wrapped up a grueling case, the kind that left everyone drained and hollowed out, and Hotch had retreated to his desk, hoping for a moment of peace. You had come in, hesitant at first, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist - a nervous habit he’d come to recognize over the years. You took a breath before speaking, your voice laced with the kind of excitement that only comes when you’re standing on the edge of something new and terrifying.

“I got an offer,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “To teach. It’s a position I never even dreamed of. The first-ever Behavioral Sciences courses, all across Europe. They want me to lead them.”

Hotch remembered the way his heart sank when you first told him, though he tried his best to keep his expression neutral, hiding the ache beneath a composed facade. He had always known you were destined for more; your talent, insight, and your relentless passion for sharing knowledge had set you apart from the very beginning. You were the team’s quiet genius, not just in profiling but in connecting dots others couldn’t see, blending psychology, philosophy, and the art of communication into something extraordinary.

You laid out all the details with an excitement that was hard to contain: Rome, London, Paris - places you had only glimpsed on rare vacations now calling on you to bring your expertise to their prestigious institutions. It was a perfect fit, a job seemingly tailored just for you. Your fluency in multiple languages, from Italian and French to German and Swedish, made you uniquely qualified to teach across Europe, bridging cultural gaps with the ease of someone who had spent their life immersed in the subtleties of language and human behavior.

It was everything you had worked for, and everything you deserved. Hotch knew that it was fate, really - that someone with your knowledge, your intellect, and your gift for teaching would eventually end up in front of a classroom, shaping the next generation of minds. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. You were finally getting the recognition you deserved, but for Hotch, it felt like the beginning of the end of something he hadn’t been ready to let go of.

Hotch had listened intently, though the tightness in his chest made it hard to breathe. He could see the flicker of conflict in your eyes, the way you glanced at him, searching for something: approval, reassurance, maybe even permission to take this leap.

You had always been strong, but this decision was monumental, and Hotch could sense your need for his support. As you spoke, your words came out in a rush, filled with excitement yet underlined with an uncertainty that made his heart ache. When you finally paused, breathless and hopeful, he forced a smile, pushing back the knot of emotions building inside him.

“You always told me I should find my happiness,” he said softly, echoing the words that had once helped pull him through some of his darkest times. “Maybe it’s time you did the same.”

He watched as your expression softened, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. Hotch could feel you on the verge of saying something more, something that lingered just beneath the surface. But instead, you nodded, your smile bittersweet, tinged with an understanding that broke his heart just a little more.

“Thank you, Aaron,” you whispered, your voice so quiet, yet so full of sincerity it nearly undid him. “I needed to hear that.”

And he knew, in that instant, that his words had given you what you needed. But the cost of that comfort weighed heavily on him. This was it - this was the moment he had been dreading. The goodbye that followed was simple, yet it carried a depth of emotion that neither of you dared to fully express. There were no tears, no grand declarations, just the two of you standing in the bullpen, surrounded by the echoes of shared memories and silent understanding.

When you moved to hug him, Hotch felt the familiar warmth of your presence wrap around him. For a second, he held on tighter than he should have, his hands lingering at your back, memorizing the way you felt against him. He wasn’t sure how long he held you there, but it wasn’t long enough. It would never be long enough. The realization hit him hard, this might be the last time he’d feel the steady comfort of you by his side, the last time he could call you his partner in the same way.

“I’m going to miss you,” you said, your voice thick with the emotions you’d worked so hard to keep at bay. And though Hotch tried to respond, his throat tightened, and all he could do was nod, hoping that somehow you’d understand all the things he couldn’t find the words for.

“Don’t forget to write,” you had said, pulling back with a small, teasing smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. It was a half-joke, half-promise, but Hotch had clung to it.

When you finally pulled away, it felt like something inside him had shifted, like a piece of him had gone with you. He watched as you gave him one last, lingering look before walking out of the building, the door closing softly behind you. The silence that followed was suffocating. Hotch stood there for a long time, staring at the space where you had been, already feeling the weight of your absence settle deep in his bones.

You both knew phone calls wouldn’t work - the time zones were unforgiving, and your schedules were a mess of lectures, seminars, cases and travel. Trying to coordinate would only lead to missed calls and voicemails, the kind of slow drift that ends in silence. But letters, letters were something else. They were tangible, personal, a way of staying connected even when the rest of the world pulled you in different directions.

Your first letter arrived a few weeks after you left. Hotch had found it waiting on his desk one morning, nestled between case files and memos, and just seeing your name scrawled across the envelope made something in his chest tighten.

For Hotch, the idea of writing to you felt right. It reminded him of the hours you had spent together in the bullpen, sitting across from each other as you filed endless reports and bantered over cases. Your handwriting, always in blue ink - never black, because you said it felt too clinical - was something he had come to cherish. He still remembered the way you had teased him, claiming that black ink was for lawyers and pessimists, and he had laughed, knowing you were right.

He opened it carefully, unfolding the pages with the same kind of reverence he might have shown an old photograph. The letter was filled with details of your new life abroad: how strange it was to be teaching in a classroom instead of chasing down criminals, how the students were eager but occasionally overwhelmed by the intensity of your lessons. You wrote about your tiny apartment in Rome, the cobblestone streets that twisted like a labyrinth, and the late nights spent sipping espresso as you prepared your lectures.

But it wasn’t just the big moments you shared; it was the little things, too. The frustration of dealing with Italian bureaucracy, the odd comfort of hearing a student quote something you’d said in class, and the quiet evenings when you missed the familiar hum of the BAU. Every word was laced with your personality: your humor, your insight, the way you saw the world with a blend of sharp intellect and boundless curiosity. Hotch read that first letter at least a dozen times, absorbing every detail, and when he finally put it down, he felt closer to you than he had in weeks.

Writing back to you became a ritual for Hotch, a quiet refuge at the end of his long, exhausting days. Once the cases were filed, the team had gone home, and the dim glow of his office lamp was the only light left in the bullpen, he would settle at his desk, the silence his only company. The act of writing to you felt both familiar and soothing, a tether to a time when you sat just across from him, lost in your own thoughts yet always attuned to his.

Hotch’s letters were a blend of work updates, personal reflections, and glimpses into the ever-changing dynamics of the team. He would tell you about the latest cases they were working on, the challenges that kept him up at night, and the way the BAU had evolved in your absence. You were always keen to know how the team was adjusting, and Hotch made sure to keep you in the loop, filling you in on the new agents who had joined and the unique personalities that now made up the BAU.

He told you about Derek Morgan, the first agent to join after you left. A former Chicago police officer with years of experience in the bomb squad, Morgan brought a fierce determination and a protective instinct that quickly made him an invaluable asset. But there was also a softer side to Morgan, one that emerged when he talked about his past or reached out to support his teammates. In many ways, his drive and unwavering loyalty reminded Hotch of you, and he knew you would have liked him.

Next came Penelope Garcia, the flamboyant technical analyst whose quirky style and unmatched brilliance with computers brought a new energy to the team. She was a ray of light in the otherwise dark world of profiling, and Hotch often found himself amused by her unique way of looking at the world. Despite her unconventional approach, Garcia was a genius with technology, hacking into systems with ease and always finding the crucial piece of information that made the difference. Hotch thought of how you would have loved her spirit, her warmth, and her unfiltered way of connecting with others.

Then there was Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, the new media liaison who had quickly proven herself to be on of the most important resources in the team. JJ was calm under pressure, compassionate, and fiercely dedicated to the team’s mission. She was a bridge between the BAU and the outside world, handling the delicate task of managing public perception and dealing with victims’ families with grace and empathy. Hotch admired her poise and her quiet strength, qualities he often found himself describing to you, knowing you’d appreciate how she balanced the team’s intense work with her soft-spoken resilience.

And then there was Dr. Spencer Reid, a young genius with an IQ of 187. Gideon had brought him in, recognizing his potential - just as he did with you back then - even though Reid was still so green, fresh out of the academy with a mind that worked on an entirely different level. Hotch wrote about Reid’s unique brilliance, the way he could recite obscure facts at lightning speed, and notice patterns no one else could see. But he also told you about Reid’s vulnerabilities, when his intellect clashed with his emotional sensitivity. Reid’s innocence and earnestness were tempered by the heavy weight of the cases, and Hotch often found himself mentoring him.

Lastly, Hotch wrote about Emily Prentiss, the newest addition to the team, an experienced agent with a knack for languages and a drive that matched his own. Prentiss was smart, resourceful, and relentless in her pursuit of justice, and her multilingual skills often put her in the center of complex international cases. She was bold, unafraid to speak her mind, and determined to prove herself, even when the odds were against her. Hotch appreciated her dedication and saw echoes of your tenacity in her work ethic, her unyielding desire to understand every angle of a case.

As Hotch became Unit Chief, he had worked hard to build a cohesive team, one that felt more like a family than just a group of agents. He made it a priority to cultivate an environment where each member’s strengths could shine, creating an expanded, stable unit where everyone had their own area of expertise: Morgan with tactical support, Garcia with technical prowess, JJ with media relations, Reid with his unparalleled intellect, Prentiss with her international insight and Gideon – just being Gideon.

It was a dynamic mix, and though the team had grown and evolved, Hotch never stopped missing your presence among them. You were the missing piece, the partner who had helped lay the foundation for what the BAU had become.

But his letters were not just filled with work updates; they were laced with personal moments, too. Hotch shared glimpses of his life outside the office, the small joys that kept him grounded. He wrote about his son Jack, who was growing up faster than Hotch could keep up with. He also wrote about Haley, who had found solace in gardening, transforming their backyard into a small oasis of color and life.

The lines between work and personal life blurred in his letters, just as they always had with you. You were more than just a partner at work, you were the person who had been there through the highs and lows, his best friend who understood the burdens he carried without him having to say a word. And though you were an ocean away, your presence lingered in every word exchanged, each letter a lifeline that kept you connected despite the distance.

You never just sent letters, though. There were always little extras tucked inside: clippings from newspapers, photos of the places you were exploring, and, most often - to still honour your long lived tradition - books.

You had a way of choosing the perfect titles, each one reflecting the country you were living in or the experiences you were having. When you were teaching in Italy, you had sent him a cookbook called “Pizza, Pane e Focacce,” a whimsical collection of traditional recipes that made Hotch laugh out loud. He had imagined you in the tiniest Roman kitchen, trying your hand at kneading dough, and the thought was so charmingly incongruous that he couldn’t resist teasing you about it in his next letter.

“Italian pizza and philosophy, a natural combination,” he had written, the playful tone feeling both familiar and distant. “Let me know when you’re ready to challenge Rossi to a cook-off. I’ll bring the wine.”

But the most meaningful gift had come when Hotch had told you about Haley’s pregnancy. It was a vulnerable confession, written in the quiet hours of the night when he felt the weight of impending fatherhood pressing down on him.

He hadn’t expected anything in return, but a few weeks later, a package arrived, a book titled “Guide for New Dads.” It was in Swedish, a nod to one of the first books he’d ever given you about coin collecting, and this time to prove him you had long mastered that language, every page was carefully translated into English with sticky notes in your familiar blue ink.

You had filled the margins with little jokes and notes of encouragement, turning a practical guide into something deeply personal.

“This one’s actually useful, Hotch,” you had joked.

“I promise, the Scandinavians know their thing.” Or

“It’s not the easiest language,” you had written on one of the notes, “but then again, neither is parenthood. You’ve got this, partner.”

Those two words - “you’ve got this” - had stayed with him, becoming a quiet mantra in the moments when doubt threatened to creep in. You always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even from halfway across the world.

Today, Hotch was sending you something in return. After years of toying with the idea, he had finally co-written a book on crisis negotiation, a project that had taken countless late nights and long hours of reflection. It was something he was proud of, a culmination of his years in the field, and it felt only right that you should be one of the first to see it. He carefully packed the book, adding a handwritten note on the first page, a Hegel quote about partnership that he knew you would appreciate.

"Partnership, like friendship, is an expression of freedom that arises from the recognition of others as individuals, bound by a common ethical life." - (Philosophy of Right, unfortunately, not Hegel for Dummies)

“Hopefully, you’ll like this one in particular,” he had added in a playful scrawl, imagining the way you would roll your eyes at his attempt at humor. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a continuation of the conversation you had been having for years, the dialogue that never really ended.

Six years had passed, but some things never changed. You were still his partner, the person who understood him in ways no one else ever could. But now, your life had taken a different turn - you were engaged to Peter, your best friend since you were fifteen. Hotch knew Peter well, how he had been there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you were too stubborn to ask for help, and how, despite winning that date with you back at his welcome back party, you’d never really given him a fair chance.

Peter had always been that steady presence, always willing to wait, always there in the background, a constant in your life when everything else felt uncertain. And though you had resisted his quiet, unwavering affection for years, something in you had shifted: a desire for something safe, something dependable, something that felt like home.

In your letters, Hotch could feel the warmth and affection you had for Peter radiate from every line. You described him with such tenderness: the way he would surprise you with breakfast on mornings when you were buried in work as your usual, how he would wait up for you when your classes ran late, and how he would listen, truly listen, to every word you said, even when his own responsibilities at Interpol were just as demanding. There were little moments, too: the way his eyes would light up when he saw you walk into a room, and the quiet nights spent talking about everything and nothing.

Hotch could tell Peter cherished you in a way you deserved: patiently, deeply, without reservations. He could see that Peter was the one who was there to hold you through your doubts, the one who made you feel understood when the rest of the world seemed incomprehensible.

He remembered the letter you had sent announcing your engagement, how you described Peter’s proposal on a quiet evening in Vienna, the two of you standing on a bridge overlooking the Danube. You wrote about the gentle way he had asked, how it felt so natural, so right, that you hadn’t even needed to think twice before saying yes.

You were building something beautiful, and he was happy for you. Truly, he was. But there were moments, in the quiet solitude of his office or in the late hours of the night, when he couldn’t help but feel the weight of your absence like an old, familiar scar.

He sealed the package with the book and his note inside, pausing to add a small card with a few lines scribbled in his neat handwriting:

“To my partner, the only person who could ever make a philosopher out of an FBI agent. I hope this book finds you well. I’m proud of you, always. Don’t forget to write.”

He had kept your latest letter on his desk, re-reading it whenever the weight of the day became too much. You wrote about the small joys of your new life - the café near your apartment in Paris, where you and Peter would go on Sundays, the excitement of teaching your students about behavioral analysis, and the bittersweet feeling of missing the team. It was the kind of letter that made Hotch smile, filled with all the small details that made him feel like you were still just a phone call away.

But life at the BAU had moved on. Hotch was Unit Chief now, a position he had worked years to attain, and the team was evolving with new faces and new dynamics. Haley and Jack were thriving, and Hotch found solace in their little routines, the stability of home life that had once seemed impossible. But no matter how full his days were, there was always that quiet moment when he would think of you: wondering where you were, what you were doing, and if you ever missed him the way he missed you.

He hadn’t seen you in six years, hadn’t heard your voice except for in memories, and yet you were still so present, woven into the fabric of his everyday life in ways he hadn’t fully understood until you were gone.

.

Back in the bullpen, Emily Prentiss, still trying to find her rhythm with the BAU team, leaned against her desk, her eyes trailing toward Hotch’s office. She had been with the team for a few months now, and while she was learning the ropes and getting comfortable, Hotch remained somewhat of a mystery to her.

He was always calm, collected, and focused - a leader who kept a firm grip on everything around him. But when it came to his personal life, he was a locked vault. It intrigued her, in a way that felt almost frustrating. With a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, she tossed out the question she’d been wondering for weeks. “Does Hotch even have friends? I mean, besides his endless pile of case files?”

The bullpen, which had been filled with the familiar hum of typing and low conversations, quieted as everyone processed the question. Morgan, sitting across from Prentiss, was the first to break the silence with a low snicker. He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, flashing his trademark grin. “Hotch? Friends? Nah, that man’s married to the job. Friends would require, you know - fun - and I don’t think he’s ever met the word.”

JJ, who had been sorting through a stack of papers at her desk, laughed softly. “Yeah, he definitely seems more like the ‘spend Saturday night in the office instead of watching a game with buddies’ type. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have time for friends.”

Prentiss grinned at that, shaking her head in agreement. "Or maybe he has a secret club of workaholics where they get together and solve cold cases for fun."

Garcia, standing behind Morgan’s chair and draping her arms around his shoulders, gasped dramatically, her eyes widening with an over-the-top look of mock horror. She placed a hand theatrically over her heart, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh, can you imagine Hotch at a dinner party?” she exclaimed, her voice dropping into a stiff, deadpan impression of him. “‘So, how do you feel about the rising murder rates in the Midwest?’”

She shivered dramatically, clutching Morgan a little tighter for effect. “Honestly, the worst small talk ever,” she declared, rolling her eyes with a playful shudder that sent the team into laughter.

Laughter rippled through the group, the shared image of Hotch awkwardly navigating social situations becoming a source of amusement. But as the laughter died down, Reid - who had been quietly sifting through old case files - looked up, his expression thoughtful, as if he had been contemplating the question more seriously than the rest.

“I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t want friends,” Reid mused, his tone thoughtful as he leaned back in his chair. He absentmindedly flipped through a stack of old case files in front of him, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere. “It’s more that he doesn’t *prioritize* them. His work-life balance is… well, skewed. I think he probably sees relationships outside of work as distractions. They pull him away from his responsibilities, and that’s something he can’t afford.”

Prentiss nodded slowly, taking in Reid’s assessment with a soft hum of agreement. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight, her gaze flicking toward Hotch’s office, where the blinds were half-drawn and the lights were on. “Yeah,” she said, drawing out the word, “I can see that. But still… doesn’t everyone need someone to talk to? I mean, even Hotch?”

Morgan, leaning back in his chair with a casual grin, was about to drop a classic sarcastic retort when something stopped him in his tracks. He noticed the subtle shift in the room - a presence just behind them, commanding yet silent. The playful banter faded as everyone instinctively glanced up.

There, standing quietly at the edge of their conversation, was Jason Gideon.

His mere presence had a way of quieting a room. Unlike Hotch, whose authority was overt and rooted in his leadership, Gideon’s was understated, more psychological. He didn’t need to bark orders at them; he simply had to be there, and everyone would fall silent. He looked between them, his eyes calm but sharp, assessing the scene with a quiet understanding.

Gideon had clearly overheard enough of the conversation to know what they were discussing. His expression was thoughtful, as though he was deciding just how much he wanted to reveal. Finally, in his familiar, measured voice, he broke the silence. “Yes, he does have friends.”

The simplicity of his statement landed like a bombshell in the middle of the room. All eyes snapped to Gideon, the weight of his words sending shockwaves through the group. The notion that Aaron Hotchner - stoic, ever-serious Hotch - had a social life outside the walls of the BAU was almost laughable.

Morgan was the first to react, leaning back with an incredulous grin as he raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” He let out a disbelieving chuckle. “You’re telling me Hotch has friends? Like, real, actual friends? Not just old case files and unsolved murders?”

JJ, sitting a few desks away, blinked in surprise and lowered her papers, clearly caught off guard by the idea. “Friends?” she echoed. “I mean, I know Hotch is close to his team, but I didn’t think he really had time for anyone outside of work.”

Prentiss, her curiosity instantly piqued, leaned forward, her arms now resting on the back of a chair. “Wait, hold on. Hotch has a friend? Who?”

Gideon’s gaze swept the room, and the corners of his mouth tugged upward in a subtle smile, enjoying the ripple of disbelief he’d caused. He took a step closer, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “She used to work here,” he said, his voice calm and deliberate, almost as if the information he was dropping wasn’t about to throw the entire team into a frenzy. “One of the best profilers we’ve ever had, Hotch and her were partners.”

The weight of that revelation hung in the air like a thick cloud of mystery, and the group fell silent again, processing what had just been said. A female profiler? Someone close to Hotch? Who had left the team without a single mention in all these years? The idea felt like a puzzle, one they couldn’t help but start piecing together.

Garcia, always the quickest to act when it came to uncovering mysteries, perked up immediately. Her fingers hovered eagerly over her keyboard, itching to dive into the archives. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement. “She? A female profiler? Who worked here? And Hotch’s partner?” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “We need details, Gideon.”

JJ, her brow furrowing in confusion, leaned against her desk and glanced at the others. “Why didn’t Hotch ever mention her? I mean, if she was one of the best profilers we’ve had, wouldn’t we know about her?”

Morgan scoffed lightly, shaking his head in disbelief. “This has got to be a joke, right? Hotch had a female partner, one of the best profilers, and he never said a word? Not even in passing?”

Prentiss, now fully engrossed in the mystery, added, “And why did she leave? People that good don’t just walk away. Something had to have happened.”

But Gideon, ever enigmatic, simply shrugged as if he were tossing breadcrumbs to a group of hungry detectives. “She moved on to bigger things,” he said, almost wistfully. “She’s in Europe now. Teaching. Brilliant mind.” And just like that, before anyone could ask more questions, he gave a small nod of finality and turned to walk back to his office. He left the group standing there in stunned silence, their collective curiosity now burning hotter than ever.

JJ blinked rapidly, still trying to process what had just been revealed. “That’s… cryptic, even for Gideon.”

Morgan, arms crossed over his chest, glanced back at Hotch’s office, his brow furrowing deeper. The blinds were half-drawn, but he could still make out the familiar figure hunched over case files, as usual. “Hotch had a partner like that and never mentioned her once? Not even a hint? That’s not just weird, it’s suspicious.”

Prentiss raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her lips as she shook her head. “If she was that good, why isn’t she still here? There has to be more to the story than Hotch is letting on. You know how he is with secrets.”

Garcia’s eyes were immediately already glowing with excitement. “Well, my darlings,” she said, leaning forward with an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper, “it seems we have ourselves a delightful little mystery to solve. And you know there’s nothing I love more than a good digital dig into the archives.” She clapped her hands together. “To the Batcave!”

Morgan chuckled, standing up and stretching. “Alright, alright, lead the way, baby girl. Let’s see what you’ve got on this mystery woman.”

With an excited flourish, Garcia waved them all into her colorful sanctuary, the tech-laden, light-filled Batcave that was her pride and joy. Stepping inside, it was like entering another universe, a world of colorful bobbleheads, blinking lights, and eclectic posters that shouted Garcia's unique personality. Her desk was lit up with the glow of multiple monitors, all showing scrolling lines of code and flashing icons.

She wiggled her fingers theatrically over the keyboard before diving into the search. “Prepare to be dazzled, my friends. You’re about to witness hacking magic.”

Prentiss leaned against the edge of Garcia’s desk, smirking. “Do we get popcorn for this?”

Garcia flashed her a grin. “Popcorn comes later, my dear. Right now, we’re after intel.”

The rest of the team gathered around Garcia’s chair, their curiosity piqued. Morgan leaned over her shoulder, watching as she quickly navigated through various secure databases, her fingers flying over the keyboard in rapid succession. The sound of keystrokes filled the air, the tension rising with each tap. After a few moments, Garcia’s face lit up, her fingers pausing as she let out a theatrical gasp. “Oh. Oh my God.” She spun around dramatically in her chair, eyes wide. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you… her.”

The monitors flickered, and suddenly, the screen filled with your personnel file. A younger version of you stared back at them from the photograph - a sharp, focused gaze beneath determined brows, your expression serious yet full of life. There was something magnetic in the way you carried yourself, even in a still image.

Morgan leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied the picture. “Well, damn,” he muttered under his breath, letting out a low whistle. “She’s exactly my type.”

Prentiss nudged him playfully, raising an eyebrow. “You say that about every woman who’s both breathing and talented, Morgan.”

Morgan grinned, flashing her a playful wink. “Yeah, but this one’s different. Hotch kept her under wraps. That’s like a glowing recommendation.”

Garcia, enjoying the banter, rolled her eyes affectionately. “Easy there, tiger,” she teased, spinning back to her computer. “I’ll share her with you, but only because I love you. Remember, I’ve called dibs.”

The team erupted in laughter, Garcia’s infectious energy cutting through the room. Even Reid, who had been quietly studying your file, let out a small smile, though his focus remained intensely on the details unfolding before them.

“She was hired here at 21,” Garcia read aloud, her voice laced with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “Straight out of university with degrees in philosophy, psychology, and linguistics. And - oh, my God - she spoke 16 languages fluently when she joined.” She paused dramatically. “Now they’re up to twenty-six, tewnty-six.”

Reid’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. “Twenty-one? She was recruited younger than I was?” He blinked, his mind racing as he processed the information. “That’s… incredible.”

Morgan grinned and elbowed Reid playfully. “Looks like someone beat you to the genius profiler title, pretty Ricky.”

Reid shot Morgan a mock glare but couldn’t hide his amazement. “Twenty-six languages?” His voice was filled with admiration as he scrolled through your file. “I’ve read her work. She pioneered an entirely new method of geographical profiling, 3D models that incorporate topography. Elevation, terrain changes, natural barriers… it completely changed how we understand unsub movement patterns.” He leaned forward, growing more animated. “Traditional geographical profiling looks at a flat map, but she recognized that criminals don’t move across flat landscapes. She factored in hills, rivers, even forests,anything that could affect the unsub’s route or escape. She mapped out the terrain as the unsub would see it, considering how natural barriers influence decisions.”

Prentiss nodded, intrigued. “So, she wasn’t just tracking where they went, but how they moved through the landscape?”

“Exactly!” Reid’s excitement built. “She created a ‘criminal terrain map,’ layering traditional geographic data with topographical maps. She used it to predict choke points, places where terrain forces an unsub to make specific choices. She even factored in the psychological impact, organized offenders would avoid risky terrain, while disorganized ones might take dangerous paths without thinking. She didn’t just consider where they were going, she understood why they made those decisions, based on both the landscape and their psychology.”

Prentiss raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. “So, basically, she was a legend?”

Garcia continued scrolling through your file, her fingers moving methodically as she scanned more of your achievements. “And she didn’t just stop there,” she said, excitement building in her voice. “After leaving the BAU, she went on to teach behavioral science and criminology all over Europe: Italy, France, Spain, Greece, Sweden – you name it – even Iceland. Lecturing in multiple languages, of course. She’s giving a guest lecture at Quantico today.”

Morgan let out a low whistle, leaning in closer as though he could learn more about you just by studying your photo. “Hotch’s friend is an international superstar. That’s why he didn’t tell us about her. He didn’t want us feeling inferior.”

JJ chuckled from the other side of the room, still processing the idea of Hotch keeping someone like you under wraps. “Of course, Hotch would keep someone like that close to the vest. It’s so like him to have a secret weapon tucked away.”

Prentiss, crossing her arms, seemed to grow more curious by the second. “If she’s this brilliant, why did she leave? And why didn’t he ever mention her?” She scanned the faces of her colleagues, clearly unsatisfied with the pieces of the puzzle they had so far. “There’s something else going on here. Hotch doesn’t just let people disappear.”

Morgan scratched his chin thoughtfully, glancing back toward Hotch’s office, which seemed to be shrouded in even more mystery now. “Yeah, something’s not adding up. She was that good, and then she just… vanished from the BAU? I bet there’s a whole story we’re missing. The question is, why did she leave?”

Garcia, never one to miss out on a juicy bit of gossip, spun around in her chair with a conspiratorial grin. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it… she left just a few months after Hotch’s wedding.” She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, enjoying the shocked looks from the others. “Coincidence? Or was there something more going on?”

JJ’s eyes widened, and she laughed softly, shaking her head. “You think she and Hotch were… what? Secretly involved? No way. Hotch is way too straight-laced for that.”

Morgan leaned against Garcia’s desk, crossing his arms. “I don’t know… maybe. She leaves right after his wedding? That’s a pretty big red flag. Maybe she had feelings for him, and when he married Haley, it was too much. She couldn’t handle being around him anymore.”

Prentiss raised an eyebrow, half-amused but also intrigued by the theory. “Or… maybe Hotch had feelings for her, and she left to avoid a messy situation. I mean, Hotch isn’t exactly one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Maybe it was all too complicated.”

Reid, who had been silently absorbing the conversation, finally spoke up, ever the voice of reason. “Or,” he said, “it could just be a coincidence. People leave jobs all the time for personal reasons. She was clearly brilliant; maybe she just wanted to pursue teaching or research.”

Garcia grinned at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, genius. Even you can’t deny that the timing is suspicious. She leaves only months after Hotch gets married? There’s gotta be more to that story.”

Morgan nodded, his expression serious but playful. “Yeah, kid, you don’t leave the BAU, the best profiling team in the country, unless something major goes down.”

Prentiss tilted her head, her curiosity still running wild. “What if they had some kind of falling out? Maybe they were super close, and after the wedding, things got awkward between them.”

JJ leaned against the wall, looking thoughtful. “It’s possible. People don’t usually leave a close partnership like that without a good reason. Especially someone like Hotch, he doesn’t form bonds easily, but when he does… it runs deep.”

Morgan grinned. “Whatever it is, I can’t wait to find out. If we’re lucky, we might get some answers when we meet her. Maybe she’ll drop some hints about what really went down.”

Garcia, her fingers flying across the keys again, pulled up more details about your guest lecture. “Well, lucky for us, she’s not going to be a mystery for much longer. Her lecture is in just a couple of hours at the Academy. How convenient for us to take a little field trip.”

Reid, his eyes lighting up, nodded eagerly. “I’d love to hear her lecture. I’ve read so much of her work - it would be fascinating to see how she applies her theories in person. Maybe we’ll even get some insight into her departure.”

Prentiss smirked, clearly enjoying the intrigue. “And I wouldn’t mind getting a sense of what she’s like. She sounds like a force to be reckoned with. Plus, if she was that close to Hotch, there’s gotta be some interesting history.”

Garcia swiveled around to face them, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Well, what are we waiting for? Field trip, anyone?”

JJ pushed away from the wall, smiling as she glanced around the room. “I’m in. Let’s go meet the legend.”

The team exchanged eager glances, the sense of excitement in the air palpable. There was more to this than just a lecture, they were about to meet someone who had not only shaped the field of profiling but had also left a deep, unspoken mark on their unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. They couldn’t help but feel like they were about to uncover a part of the team’s history that for some reason had been hidden for far too long.

[explicitred]

In streamer au male reader was self aware and teases some of the characters like when he doesn't come home they'll receive a message from him saying "better luck next time "insert reader emote""and maybe can come out of the game and many chaotic things

Genshin Impact Streamer AU (Self-Aware Reader)

letss gooo?? omg what a hot new character!!! woahh... and they're reading these words...???

You slyly smiled as you dodged those pesky pink and blue wishes. They looked more like meteorites the more you practically danced above the clouds, the little wishes becoming faster and... more desperate? ...Hah. They must be the one spawning these things, hm? How cute. Perhaps it'd be fun to tease them a bit. After all, now I know how needy you are for me <3 (im sorry)

"Better luck next time~!" They literally slam their desk, dramatically crying as they lose their pity to someone else. NOOO- PLEASE! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY OTHER CHARACTERS WAITING FOR YOU!! (And so many sacrificial rituals-) They just need to get you so they can stare at you for hours in the game! Their chat spams them with crying emojis and encouraging words, while others laugh at their misery, finding them amusing. Wait, wait wait. You winked? You spoke? ...Wait, was that a new feature? OH GOD THAT'S SO HOT- TEASE THEM MORE- Kaeya, Childe (only skipped other characters to stay loyal to you. he's a good wife! and only reason he's crying is because you keep purposely dodging his wishes even after he was guaranteed getting you! mans has enough money to keep at it anyway), Kaveh (prolly starved to get you lmfao. HE ATE CAT FOOD), Lyney, Venti, Heizou

Just stares at you as you tease them, saying to them "Better luck next time~!" Theories are going through their head... The math is mathing... The brain is braining... Hmm... 🤔 Albedo, Alhaitham, Heizou

Takes a billion screenshots of the textbox, repeating to themselves again and again "better luck next time" with a happy smile, taking this as you noticing them. They think nothing of this "new feature", thinking that Genshin just slid this in without telling anyone. I guess they're too happy to be properly teased...? Ayaka, Childe, Thoma

Not surprised but still crying their hearts out. RIP the sacrifice of their wallets. Mona, Bennett (platonic).

Now, when you literally get out of the screen...?

Oh, my! Who's this fine person? Wait, it's you? Sheesh, you look better up close! WAIT WHAT- (internally freaking out but very blushy blushy) Childe, Xiao, Diluc, Wanderer, Lyney, everyone.

Just straight up gets on one of their knees. They've had dreams about this moment. They've written fanfics about this moment. And who cares if this is an hallucination or dream? They're going to make the damn most of it! Taking out their carefully crafted and customized wedding ring, that they bought just for this fantasy, they propose to you. "Will you... marry me?!" Albedo, Yae (She's written and published actual fanfics of you), Childe, Itto

They pass out. That's it. I guess you're just that hot, huh? You might have to help them~ Ayaka, Itto, Kaveh

Literally so embarrassed. They're just in their pajamas, slightly messy hair and all. Regardless or not this is a dream, they have to look good for you 24/7! Ayaka, Cyno, Neuvillette, Xiao

You look around, seeing their room filled with merch of you. Blankets with your face on them, towels with your face on them, posters, figurines, shrines, etc. And... And... IS THAT A POSTER OF JUST YOUR ABS-!? And a f*cking CAT named after you!? Oh god. Get me out of here. some people...

A few days later...

They've adorned you with the softest, coziest pajamas! They're now currently trying to convince you to sleep with them in their bed. Maybe sneak in a few cuddles or two... "Let me love you and show you how special you are <3" Childe, Ayato, Alhaitham, Albedo, Diluc, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Kazuha, etc...

Not afraid to show you to other people, even though they have a literal fictional character with them. "Hey! Here's my hot lover!" "Wha-? ...I might have to steal them from you. Ahem! Oh, do they like cosplaying or something?" Alhaitham (knows he can get away with just saying that you cosplay a lot), Albedo ("oh? they just like cosplaying."), Childe ("don't care, lol. anyway, look at my hot spouse-"), Ayato ("cosplaying."), Heizou ("just say that you're cosplaying!")

Constantly trying to hide you. After all, they have a literal fictional character who came out a game! Who knows what people will do if they know of this?! Sucrose, Wanderer (he just doesn't want people to look at what's his), Diluc, Ayaka

Panicking and blushing hardcore every time they see you. Oh, goodness... Do you even know how perfect you look everyday?! How perfect you are each and every second?! They blush so much just from looking at you... How are they going to survive with you living with them from now on?! Everyone.

INDIVIDUAL STORIES: CHILDE, XIAO

AGGHHH! STOP DODGING THEIR WISHES!! THEY LITERALLY SPENT THEIR LIFE SAVINGS FOR YOU 😭😭😭

Wait- Life savings? Pfft, nah. That's just some spare change. Childe sighs, dramatically slumping in his chair as he loses the 50/50. The chat was currently going wild on him, making fun of him for getting the wrong character.

"LLLLL" "💀💀💀" "can't believe he lost 😭" "wait, why is everyone reacting as if he doesn't have over 9999 wishes?" "lmfao"

The ginger man pouts, whining cutely. "Chaaattt~! Stop making fun of me! I'll get them this time! It's guaranteed anyway!"

"...Huh?"

Childe blinks, seeing your splash art... move? ...Huh. That's weird. Did Genshin add this new feature? Usually, the splash art doesn't move when on the initial summoning screen.

"Huh??? Is this a new feature?" "Damn, you really are Genshin's golden child..." "omfggg step on me this new chara so hot" "love this new character, i'll be yo baby mama trust"

Childe huffs, seeing a text on his screen, a bit confused, but slightly amused nonetheless.

"Better luck next time~! <3"

"Hmph, just you wait, darl- comrade! I'll get you!"

Xiao's face reddens on stream, clicking onto the wishing screen, seeing your splash art. God, he wants you so badly. Too bad he's not guaranteed you since he won his last 50/50. He just hopes he'll win this one too. ...My, you're still as hot as ever! His chat seemed to agree.

"AHHHH WE'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT" "I WANT THEM TOO" "marry meeeeee new chara"

Well, here goes his primogems... Down the drain it goes!

Click.

Please, please, please- He loves you so badly-

He'll get on his knees for you! Just come home!

His breath hitches, seeing a golden star appear on his screen.

He's all entirely yours! Just please-!

After a few clicks, hurriedly rushing through the three-star weapons, Xiao's eyes land on Keqing.

Xiao frowns, returning back to the initial summoning screen after a couple more clicks, wistfully staring at your splash art. Great. He didn't have anymore primogems for you.

He suddenly chokes, jolting slightly in his chair as he sees you winking at him, mouthing the words "Better luck next time~! 😘" as a textbox appears with the same exact words.

Damn. Now even his love a fictional character was teasing him!

Bonus: (aka my drafts)

"Aggghh... I spent so much money!!" Childe huffed as he kept clicking the 10-pull button repeatedly, staring at his screen as if in a trance. "...Oh, right. I'm rich!" His chat exploded with comments such as:

"Bruh you FORGOT that you're rich??" "rich people problems" "dude lost the 50/50 LMFAO HELP" "MY GUY YOU HAVE A BILLION INTERTWINED FAINTS WHAT YOU ON ABOUT 💀💀💀"

Childe thought out loud, thinking to himself. "Oh, but maybe my darling will appreciate it if I do another ritual and sacrifice-"

"What, you're going to push another fictional cat off of Liyue's dock-?"

bonus bonus: (another scrapped draft!)

merch. merch. merch. Your face on a hoodie? Wallet out. A rip-off figurine version of you when you're doing the fisheye meme? Bank account out. Doesn't matter. If your face is on it, give. Their fans think that they're too obsessed with you, but they don't see your true beauty!! Literally browses and buys merch of you on stream. "Hey, chat, which item do you think looks better? I think this potted plant version of them looks nice, but maybe we should buy them as a smegsy raccoon-" Wha...? We don't have anymore money...? JUST SELL THE HOUSE-

me when my partner doesnt do his part and its worth 50 percent of our grade

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 824: The assist's smile

Pag 1

1: The two guys from Hakogaku are passing the puddle!!

3: There's a gap between them and the three people ahead

It's 2, 3 seconds!!

They're already 1km away from the finish line

A distance of three seconds right before the finish line.....

Pag 2

1: We caught them

2: it's a desperate distance!!

Pag 3

1: Hakone Academy!!

Pag 4

2: Three people in the lead!! Gunma, Kyoto! And now Chiba's Sohoku too, they're taking the curve!!

Gooo

Kyofushi!!

The second curve.... this is the last curve!!

3: Once they pass that, it's basically just a straight road to the finish line!!

4: Pedal, Sohokuu!!

The guy from Gunma is so cool!

Pag 5

1: Once we pass....

2: this curve....!!

3: This is the final curve!!

7: I see it!!

Pag 6

1: The goal gate!!

Pag 8

1: 600m left until the finish line!!

2: Woah!! That's the road racing's Inter High's goal gate!! It's my first time seeing it!!

3: Vic...tory!!

Pag 9

1: I'll deliver the jersey that was entrusted to me!!

2: I'll definitely do it!!

3: -tory!!

4: Yon!!

8: This gate....

Pag 10

1: will prove if what I've learned during this past year was correct

Pag 11

1: It's the gate of judgment!!

2: The three people in the lead entered the straight road and are accelerating!!

They're so fast!!

Gooo!

Pedaaal!!

3: Calm down, my heart!!

4: I'll take it!!

I will!!

5: This is a road race's finish line!!

I can't help this burning feeling!!

Pag 12

1: Finally Hakogaku has also entered the final curve!!

2: A three seconds difference in the final curve, it's impossible!!

Something happened and they got a late start at 1km left? What a careless mistake!!

3: The race for the finish line is narrowed down to the three people ahead!!

Hakogaku can't make it anymore!!

Pag 13

1: They're saying horrible things about us, Jou-san

Let the outsiders say whatever they want

2: From a safe place protected from wind and rain, it's impossible to understand the subtle tactics of the battlefield

The verbal spears of a person who doesn't fight every day are rusty and rotten

3: Ah but I told you before

In road racing

4: “Those who have a larger number of people have an overwhelming advantage”

Look

5: All the other team have only one person, but Hakone Academy, in front of the finish line, has...

Pag 14

1: Two people?

2: I've told you this already, but when a body moves faster than 25 km/h, it will definitely feel the air resistance

And bikes move at 40/50 km/h are constantly pushing away air particles while moving

3: The theory that “riding behind a bicycle is easier”

4: is because the air particles pushed aside won't hit the person in the back

5: It's the same thing as hiding from the wind in a pillar's shadow during windy days

6: So of course the person in the back has to endure less fatigue

“There are two people”, means....

Pag 15

2: it means that we will send a less fatigued ace in the pack in front of the finish line!!

3: The reason we didn't follow the other three at the curve at 1km left was

4: to be able to take the technical curve safely and accurately without being hindered!!

The seconds of difference.... it's easy

Pag 16

1: I'll just pull and close it!!

3: Alright, Yuuto!! Here it comes!!

Pag 17

1: We can go into zone 5!!

2: Yes!!

3: Move ahead once I give you the signal!!

4: What

Hakogaku is accelerating!!

The assist is pulling up!!

5: Hiaaaa

6: Go, Yuuto...

Pag 18

1: Be proud!! Of the bib number 1 you're wearing

Pag 19

1: Go and take the finish line!!

Pag 20

1: Yes!!

Pag 21

4: He's here!! Hakogaku!! In an instant!!

6: 500m left!!

[spookydreamscape]

(Big big spoilers to the new spooky month short again) OKAY I'll get into the most interesting stuff already

THE FORSHADOWING THINGS FOR ALL THE NEXT EPISODES MADE ME HYPERVENTILATE. I've went through all of them multiple times while putting the video in a very slow playback speed so I got my ideas and theories formed fresh

SO in the first fordhadowing scenes, it's definitely about episode 7 !! Most obvious part being those tree branches surrounding the edges of the screen, hinting at the next antagonist who we know is some sort of tree being.

SUSIE SUSIE WE'RE GETTING A LOT OF SUSIE IN EPISODE 7. FUCK YEESSS LETS GOOO FINALLY FINALLY IVE WNATED THIS SO BADLY ACTUALLY IM LOSING IT‼️‼️⁉️‼️⁉️‼️

Susie, Skid, Pump, Hatzgang all will be together at the Candyclub. Judging off the scenes where Roy has a smug expression and then Skid and Pump run away happily— Roy is gonna mess around with them around again, tricking them into going in the woods (It's definitely the woods okay let me cook). Then we see Susie being shocked, then they all get mad and start to fight, and clearly get mad at Roy for what he's gonna do.

Everyone (except Roy) then leave the frame too, and I'm guessing it means they'll leave to search for Skid and Pump in the woods! Roy then stands alone there, now upset (ROY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT FINALLY. EPISODE 7 WILL DESTROY AND ALSO COMPLETE MY LIFE‼️)

THEN we get scenes of Lila and Jaune screaming at Kevin, clearly mad, while Jack and John are there too— I'm speculating that this means Skid, Pump, Susie, Ross and Robert will get lost in the woods, making Lila and Jaune very stressed obv and they try to get the cops to help and find the kids. They'll yell at Kevin because he was present in the whole fight between the kids, but he didn't do anything about it (NOT BLAMING KEVIN BTW just saying why I think Lila and Jaune will scream at him!)

The short frame of Jack holding something yellow, which COULD be Susie's scarf, makes me more sure of my theory

[eloriis]

BEST BELIEVE I AM HERE FOR A YAPPING SESSION !!!

no bc i have sm to say like im abt to BURST with it smh </3 ANYWAY

i did my chemistry mock today and me and my pookie bear found the marking scheme for the mcqs (as we always do like we ALWAYS find the marking scheme for the mcqs in every single exam idk how or why)

anyway it was like good the theory wasnt the best and the atp wasnt too bad but i messed up my graph drawing sigh </3 the mcqs were ofc good but i messed the order i wrote on my hand so i expect a few wrong ones

i also did math yesterday and SURPRISNGLY it was good?? like?? i think i got around 60-70 which is VERY good bc these mocks are SO HARD (my bsf thats not doing igcse said our igcse math is the hardest in the world wtf) anyway yeah so it would be a GREAT improvement from my past ones !!

tomorrow i have literature then i have a free day so ill have time to finally finish my bitch ass fics <33 i have biology on thursday and then friday is valentines so ill celebrate with my pookie bears!! what are your plans bby??

ALSO on saturday my school has a festival thing AND i have my scholarship exam so wtf? i kinda want to go to the festival so i can wear my red bull shirt (its so pretty) but my bsf isnt coming and idk abt my other bsf so yeah ill see until then!

my aunts came over yesterday and i love when theyre over so im rlly happy rn!!

ANYHOW enough yapping from my side now let me asking you questions and i need you to yap back to me

how are you??? hows life??? hows school??? hows your health??? hows your social life??? how are you friends??? your family???

whats your fav food??? fav colour???? fav song???? fav artist??? least fav food??? fav movie??? fav series??? fandoms??? fav ppl?? celeb crushes (if you have any!)????

yeah idk what to ask anymore dni

BYE BYE ILYYSMMMMM NOW ILL DO YOUR ACC RATING!!

MWAHHHH REMINDER THAT YOURE SO GORGEOUS AND THAT ILYSM AND THAT YOURE ONE OF MY FAV MOOTS ON HERE!!!

(so sorry for the long ass yap omg i js realised how long it is)

OMG LETS GOOO!! I LOVEEEE YAPPING SESSIONS AHHH

damn that’s so slay! i hope it went well! i mean it’s YOU so i’m sure they went amazing. our mcq’s are one markers but we have 20 of them for an 80 mark paper!

i’m pretty sure u did really good! theory is soooo boring ugh. i haven’t done a graph in sooo long omg.

math </3 i hate it so much ugh. omg! i’m so glad it went well!! when do u have ur actual exams? since these are mocks? i’m so proud of u bby <33

omgg i hope it went well! happy belated valentine’s day btw omgg! did u have fun w ur friends? my plans on vals?? bawl while prepping for my english exam which was on the next day :p

my poor girlie has sooo many exams wtf?? the last three paragraphs have only been about exams god 😭😭 i hope u did well in all of them!! especially in ur scholarship exam! did u end up going to the festival?? i hope u did and wore ur red bull shirt <3 (I NEED A PIC WHAT?!)

awhh im glad you’re happy!!

yes queen i shall send u a message replying to ur questions‼️

tysm for keeping my inbox from collecting dust while i was gone for almost 2 whole months <33 ilyilyyy

[zrashpanda]

Echos of Gold- Chapter 2

ON WE GOOO!

Reader is gender neutral and Spoilers for Arcane Season 2!

Word Count: 1,100

Deep within the Arcane, Viktor stirs. A dull ache pulses in his head as he rubs his temple, slowly piecing together his scattered senses. His golden eyes flicker open, greeted by the strangely familiar, ethereal glow of the Arcane—a realm he’d come to know well during his time in the commune he created. It was a place he often retreated to, a sanctuary where his thoughts could unfurl freely. Yet, something feels off. The energy around him is brighter, sharper, and somehow… emptier. As he glances around, his brows knit together in confusion. “Where… am I?” he murmurs, his voice a quiet echo in the boundless void. He doesn’t expect an answer.

“Beats me. I thought you’d know,” a familiar voice quips from behind. Viktor’s gaze snaps to the source, his heart leaping in relief. Jayce stands there, a weary smile tugging at his lips. “Glad to see you’re okay. Didn’t think we’d make it out alive,” he says, extending a hand. Viktor takes it, allowing Jayce to help him to his feet. His legs are unsteady, but it’s not just from the disorientation. As he glances down at his hands, his breath catches. His form glows with vibrant hues, translucent and ever-shifting, like a living mirage. “I don’t think we are… alive,” Viktor says softly, the weight of the realization sinking in.

Jayce’s smile falters. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice tinged with unease as he surveys the endless expanse of the Arcane. “It’s a hypothesis,” Viktor begins, his voice measured, though uncertainty flickers in his golden gaze. “I believe we may have lost our physical forms. We are one with the Arcane now—or at least, that’s my theory.” Jayce groans, dragging a hand down his face. “That doesn’t sound good. Can you think of a way to reverse this? You are the most familiar with the Arcane—there’s got to be something.” Viktor’s shoulders sag as he retrieves his cane, leaning on it for support. “I… don’t have an answer. Not yet.” He sighs, the frustration clear in his voice. “For now, let us—”

He freezes mid-sentence, his head snapping toward an unfamiliar sound: a voice. “Jayce, did you—” Viktor’s question is cut off as he hears it again. “Ekko! It’s Viktor’s handwriting!” His heart skips a beat. That voice—your voice. Viktor spins around, his hope surging, but all he sees is the endless void. His chest tightens with disappointment. “Up there,” Jayce says, nudging Viktor and pointing toward a faint opening in the dark, sky-like expanse. Both men look up to witness the moment you found the hidden lab. Your face shines through the darkness, illuminating the void with a fleeting glow as you sift through Viktor’s notes. “Is this… a memory?” Jayce asks, his brow furrowing. “No,” Viktor says, his eyes fixed on you. “It seems… recent.”

He takes in your features—the heavy bags under your eyes, the exhaustion etched into your expression. It’s clear you’ve been crying, and the sight tears at his heart. He feels an immense guilt for leaving you, even if it wasn't his choice. “So this is like… a window to the outside?” Jayce ventures, still staring up at the scene. Viktor’s eyes flick to the device in your hands, and his breath catches. “The Core,” he whispers. “It’s a modified Hexcore. I was developing it for another project.” His mind races. “That must be why we have this connection. Perhaps… perhaps we can use it to our advantage.”

“You mean we could use this rift to get out of here?” Jayce asks, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. “It’s… a leap,” Viktor admits, though a faint smile tugs at his lips. “But if anyone could achieve the impossible, it would be two of Piltover’s greatest scientists, no?” Jayce grins. “I missed this,” he says, gently clapping Viktor on the shoulder. “Having you back.” The moment is brief but heartfelt, as Jayce’s gaze returns to the rift. “So, how do we get up there? And didn’t you say we don’t have physical bodies anymore?”

“It was an educated guess,” Viktor replies with a faint smirk. “As for reaching the rift, we’ll worry about that once we find a way to get to it. For now, I suggest we explore this realm. There’s bound to be something here that can help.” Viktor tightens his grip on his cane, but his gaze lingers on the fading image of your face. Jayce notices. “Hey,” he says gently, stepping closer to his friend. “They’ll be fine. You heard them—they’re looking for Heimerdinger. If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

“I know,” Viktor replies, his voice heavy. “It’s just… I thought I’d rid myself of weakness. Of these emotions. I saw them as something useless….An obstacle I would have to overcome.” He pauses, his expression softening. “And yet, it feels like this… these feelings are the only thing keeping me going.” Jayce smiles knowingly. “As I told you, your flaws and feelings make you who you are. And you know they’d agree.” He looks back up at the darkness, where the vision of you has fully faded. “Let’s get back. So they can tell you themselves.” Together, Viktor and Jayce begin their journey through the endless void, their steps steady with a shared determination.

[sonicboomrevisited]

NEW PAGES LETS GOOO The colors in these pages are amazing! Love how muted the colors look in the scenes where Robo-Sonic is detailing his awesome plan. And another thing I noticed! The panel where Amy is holding Robo-Sonic's hand, the background is blue, like when Sonic snapped out of it for a second on the previous page. But when Amy takes her hand away, it turns back to red, really hammering home that the trick didn't work on her. Also, I do have a little theory about this page, but it's a little barebones rn. I'll wait until I have a little more evidence to present it. Either way, awesome pages, and I'm super excited for the next one! - Egg Anon (k0_aify)

Thank you so much, Egg-non!

@star-stages will be delighted to hear how much you love her coloring work on these pages! She spent a lot of time getting them just right for that scene especially!

I can't wait to hear your theory!!!

[doobledabbadoo]

I don't know if it's been asked, but any Miss Calamity headcanons? 🧡

(Also any possible theories ya might think as to why they removed her in season 2? I will NEVER forgive them for that 💀 she was my second fave little miss💔 what a calamity indeed...)

OOOOH ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE DONE A POST DEDICATED CHARACTER HCS LETS GOOO

- miss calamity is a dog person. if she had a pet dog, itd be a bernese mountain dog named hugo.

- as a kid, miss calamity wanted to download a cool game she saw online onto her family computer. instead, it turned out to be a computer virus that took weeks to remove. since then, she abstained from relying on technology too much as she thought it could turn against her at any moment.

- miss calamity and miss magic are cousins! they dont see each other often, but they get along fairly well.

- speaking of which, sometimes she’s miss magic’s assistant when nobody else is willing. a lot of these tricks miss magic performs onto miss calamity wildly vary in success.

- miss calamity loves anything involving books, from reading them to trying to write them to the best of her ability. it gives her time to decompress after a long, calamitous day.

as for what happened to her in season 2? well, she eventually came back in the comments, so i like to imagine she took a vaction elsewhere before deciding dillydale was her home for good.

also SO REAL FOR THAT LAST COMMENT they should’ve kept her around tbh. she’s such a prominant part of the show, especially since she appears in almost every episode, and it was very easy to notice that she was missing in season 2. none of the season 2 newcomers appeared or utilized nearly as much as she was tbh

[drearrryyy]

Cow girl- but without the rope

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸

The bus hissed to a stop just outside the towering gates of U.A. High School, the prestigious academy gleaming under the morning sun. Umeko stepped off with a long stretch, arms overhead, her duffel slung over one shoulder. Her fluffy brown hair caught the light, her highland cow ears twitching under the brim of her patched-up sun hat.

She let out a low whistle, staring up at the sheer size of the main building.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, "that cost me as much as three hens and two roosters just to get here. Better be worth it."

Clutching the crumpled ticket in her pocket, she wandered forward, boots clacking against the pavement. Her gaze drifted to a loud commotion up ahead.

A spiky-haired blond boy—face twisted in an impressive level of rage—was snarling at a quieter green-haired boy who seemed to shrink under the weight of the verbal barrage.

"Huh," Umeko muttered, chewing the inside of her cheek. "City folk are so...dramatic."

She watched curiously as the angry boy stormed off, leaving the green-haired one rattled and pale. He took a shaky step forward—and promptly tripped.

Before his face could meet concrete, a brown-haired girl nearby flicked her fingers, and his fall came to a soft halt, floating just inches above the ground.

He blinked in surprise, and she leaned forward with a laugh.

"Are you okay? I stopped you with my quirk. I'm sorry I didn't ask first but..."

Umeko smiled a little, watching the exchange, but her attention was already being pulled to the massive, modern building ahead. She wandered inside, her boots squeaking against polished floors as her eyes widened like saucers.

The testing room was enormous—more like an auditorium than a classroom. Rows and rows of seats stretched out before a raised stage. Her ears flicked back as she made her way down the stairs, muttering, "I could fit half the village in here... maybe even the cows too."

She found an open seat near the edge, wriggling into place and hugging her bag to her chest. Around her, chatter buzzed low and steady, a mixture of nerves and excitement. Her fluffy ears twitched, picking up pieces of conversation—battle strategies, quirks, theories. Most of it sounded like gibberish to her.

Then, suddenly, the lights dimmed.

A bright flare lit the front of the room, and a tall man with neon yellow hair and tinted shades sprang onto the stage like a lightning bolt.

"What's up, U.A. candidates? Thanks for tunin' in to me, your school DJ! Come on, let me hear ya!"

The room fell silent.

Umeko blinked and slowly raised one hand in the air. "Woooo!" she called out, voice loud and proud.

Her cheer echoed awkwardly off the walls.

Present Mic grinned wide and pointed. "There we go! Cow girl in the corner knows how to party!"

Several heads turned. Umeko just smiled sheepishly, shrugging with a "what can ya do?" expression.

Then the exam explanation began.

Projectors lit up, showcasing simulated battlefields and towering robots. Rules were rattled off at lightning speed, numbers and terms flying faster than Umeko could track. She leaned forward, squinting.

"Wait... wait, so... we fight the big ones? Or avoid 'em? What's a villain point again?"

She tilted her head, horns clinking lightly against her seat's backrest.

By the time the screen faded and instructions were done, she clapped along with everyone else, whispering to herself, "Okay, okay... not too bad. Just pretend they're bulls. Big, shiny, metal bulls."

And with that, Umeko stood, ready to prove that even a farm girl from the mountains could shake the ground at U.A.

The air buzzed with tension as the gates to the testing arena burst open.

Umeko charged in with the crowd of applicants, her ram-like horns catching the sunlight and her fluffy ears twitching with excitement. Her boots slammed against the pavement as her heart pounded, not with fear—but pure, unfiltered adrenaline.

"Let's gooo!" she whooped, grinning wildly.

Ahead, metal beasts loomed—robotic threats of all sizes stomping through the simulated city. As students scattered and unleashed flashy quirks, Umeko didn't hesitate. She darted forward, launching herself off a broken car hood, then springing from a wall to a second-story ledge with practiced ease.

Farm life had made her limbs strong, her body sturdy—and surprisingly nimble.

She zipped across rooftops and catwalks, barreling straight into a two-pointer with a devastating shoulder-check. It crumpled like scrap metal. Another tried to grab her with claw-like arms—she ducked, grabbed its wrist, and ripped it clean off, using it like a club.

Then came a three-pointer.

It dropped from above with a heavy thud, sensors whirring. Umeko squinted at it and smirked.

"Alright, big guy. You're my kinda problem."

She threw herself at it, locking arms around its midsection. They wrestled—metal groaning against bone and muscle as she heaved and grunted. Sparks flew as it tried to crush her in its grip, but she grit her teeth and dropped her weight, twisting like she was bringing down a rowdy bull.

With a yell, she planted her feet, arched her back—and launched the robot skyward.

It flew above the rooftops, a jagged blur against the blue.

"Yee-haw!" she laughed, wiping her brow. "One-way trip to the scrapyard."

It landed with a hard stomp in a debris-strewn alley and immediately locked onto her next targets. She ran through them like a battering ram, using her sheer weight and strength to barrel through lines of enemy bots. Mechanical limbs and gears scattered in her wake.

Off to the side, she spotted a familiar mess of green hair. The nervous boy from earlier was hesitating, eyes darting everywhere.

"Still starin'? Get a move on!" she called out, but he didn't hear her. With a shrug, she turned and punched another bot so hard its head sailed off into the distance. She casually counted in her head.

"Forty-seven... forty-eight... oh, hey—that makes forty-nine."

Just as she kicked a smoking torso out of the way, the ground rumbled.

Her ears perked.

The shadow that fell over the arena made her freeze, head slowly tilting upward. The zero-pointer towered above them all—massive, monstrous, unstoppable.

"Nope," she muttered, narrowing her eyes. "No way they want us to fight that.”

But when she turned her head, she saw it—someone pinned beneath rubble. A brown-haired girl—the one from earlier—was struggling, helpless.

Then, without warning, the green-haired boy sprinted past her.

Umeko's eyes widened.

"Wait... is he—?"

He launched himself into the air, screaming with all he had. His limbs stretched back, power surging, and then—

CRACK!

He slammed into the robot's face with a blow so powerful, it toppled. The zero-pointer collapsed in a deafening explosion of metal and dust.

Umeko stared, stunned. "Holy cow..."

But then she saw it—he was falling. Fast.

She bolted, racing the brown-haired girl to reach him. The girl reached him first, slapping his face mid-air.

"Huh... did she just slap him?" Umeko blinked.

Then the boy floated—limp, but no longer plummeting.

Umeko caught him, steadying him, and gently helped lower him the rest of the way. She crouched beside him, watching the flicker of his breath.

"Dang, he really went all-out," she murmured, brushing sweaty bangs from his forehead.

A choked sound came from behind her—she turned just in time to see the brown-haired girl bend over and throw up from exertion.

The buzzer rang. The test was over.

Umeko sat back with a long exhale, the dust slowly settling around her.

"Well," she muttered with a crooked smile, "what a test. No one does it like city folk, huh?"

She laughed quietly to herself and looked up at the blue sky, already wondering what came next.

Umeko stepped into the sleek halls of U.A. High, her brand-new shoes clicking against the pristine tile floor. She glanced down at them, her lips curling into a grin.

"Four thousand yen on sale," she murmured proudly. "City stores really don't know how to price things proper."

Her fluffy highland cow ears twitched as she looked around, scanning the hall for the elusive Class 1-A door. Everything about the school felt so polished, so... official. Back home, school was just one building. All the kids—no matter their age—shared the same creaky room. Sometimes you did math next to a six-year-old drawing clouds, and if someone was working on college essays, you just kept your voice down and hoped the goats didn't break in again.

"This place is like a whole other world," she muttered, gently rubbing her horns.

She passed a window and caught her reflection—tail flicking behind her, hair a bit wild despite her attempts to tame it. It still felt surreal.

The memory of the acceptance disk popped into her head—floating holograms, fancy projections, way too many buttons. "We're pleased to inform you..." and then a bunch of other stuff she had to ask her mom to help decode. All she'd really cared about was the number: 53 points.

Turned out, a few of those were "rescue points," for helping the green-haired boy and stopping rubble from falling on others. She hadn't even thought about it at the time—it just felt like the right thing to do. But now, standing in this hallway in this unbelievable building, she found herself wondering...

"Did that green-haired boy make it in too?"

She stopped in front of the big sliding door marked Class 1-A. With a deep breath, she pushed it open.

The classroom was bright, modern, and bigger than she expected. A few students were already inside, some sitting, some chatting, all looking like they walked out of a hero magazine.

Her eyes swept across the room.

One boy sat coolly at his desk with one leg propped up. He oozed confidence—or arrogance, she couldn't quite tell.

Then her gaze landed on a student with bright yellow hair and a jagged black lightning bolt streaking through it. He perked up a little when he saw her, flashing a friendly look.

Wonder what his quirk is, she thought with curiosity.

Before she could approach, a voice cut through the air.

"Greetings, fellow student! I am Tenya Iida from the Somei Private Academy!"

The speaker was a tall, blue-haired guy with glasses so sharp they could probably double as weapons. He offered a formal bow.

Umeko blinked, then laughed a little, offering her hand. "Umeko Yoshida, born and raised out in the sticks. My quirk's called cow—kinda makes me strong, heavy, and, uh, durable. Got these too," she added, pointing to her horns and tail. "The tail's mostly for balance, and the ears are a pretty bonus, but the horns are great for wrestlin' livestock."

She paused, then grinned. "Also, if you ever need help wrangling a loose chicken, I'm your girl."

She started rambling about her farm—mentioning cows, corn, and the time she fought off a wild boar with a bucket—when the classroom door slid open again.

In stepped the green-haired boy.

Her ears perked up.

"Huh. He did get in."

Before she could say anything, Iida stormed over to confront him. Something about secret objectives and improper behavior during the exam.

Umeko tilted her head, squinting. "Secret what-now?"

Shrugging, she trotted over once Iida finished his speech, giving the nervous boy a wide smile.

"Hey, you! City boy!" she greeted. "Your quirk was super cool in the test—real flashy stuff! That punch you threw? WHEW!" She mimed an explosion with her hands. "I figured if anyone was makin' it in here, it'd be you. Congrats!"

She gave him a friendly slap on the back that nearly knocked him forward.

"Name's Umeko, by the way. You're officially the most 'city folk' person I've ever met— and that's sayin' somethin'."

Umeko barely finished her playful jab when the green-haired boy turned toward her, eyes wide and a little overwhelmed by all the attention.

"O-oh! Uh—hi!" he said, fumbling for words. "I'm Izuku Midoriya. Nice to meet you!"

He gave a small bow, hands twitching nervously at his sides.

Umeko beamed. "Nice to meetcha too, Midoriya! You've got the vibe of a nervous goat but the strength of a mountain ox. Can't wait to see you in action again!"

Midoriya gave a shaky laugh, clearly unsure if that was a compliment, but nodded appreciatively nonetheless.

Before either of them could say more, the door slid open again and in walked a familiar face—short, brown-haired, and smiling as brightly as the sun.

"Plain guy!" she called as she jogged over. "You're here too! I'm so glad!"

Umeko recognized her instantly. The floating girl from the exam.

"Heya!" Umeko grinned, waving. "Nice catch back there, by the way. You're quick!"

"Oh! Thank you!" the girl replied, giving a little bow. "I'm Ochaco Uraraka—it's great to meet you both!"

"Uraraka, huh?" Umeko repeated, then gave her a thumbs-up. "Love your vibe. Very soft but also 'I could suplex you if I needed to.' That's a good mix."

Uraraka giggled. "That's... oddly specific, but thank you!"

The three of them chatted for a few more seconds before they heard a voice. The chatter died after a second as they turned toward the hall.

A yellow sleeping bag sat in the middle of the floor.

Umeko's ears twitched. "Wait... that's not a bag..."

The sack unzipped and a man practically slithered out of it, wrapped in a dark capture weapon scarf, hair a mess, face half-buried in exhaustion.

"I'm Shota Aizawa," he said with a yawn. "Your homeroom teacher. It took you all eight seconds to quiet down. Time's precious—try to be more efficient."

Umeko blinked, eyes wide.

Then her face lit up.

"Whoa..." she muttered. "He's awesome. Like... a shadowy bull. Calm, heavy, and looks like he'd stomp you into the dirt if you spooked him too loud."

Midoriya glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

"I mean that in the best way!" she added quickly, raising her hands. "City folk might not get it."

Uraraka stifled a giggle.

Aizawa continued, deadpan. "Put these on and head to the field."

He held up a gym uniform.

Umeko blinked again, her cheerful face slowly shifting to one of mild confusion.

"Wait... what's that for?"

<Previous part | Next part >

[thatonecrookedsmile]

"Tombstone Picnic,the infamous 'Lost Ending' Bendy cartoon from the early days of the studio. The ending has not been seen since the cartoon's first run in 1929 and no copies are known to exist."

-Nostalgia-

----- Bendy comes face to face with [REDACTED]!

Another year, another Ink Demonth event. Let's see if I can get past the first 10 days again (I kind of doubt it, but let's not get ahead of ourselves).

Starting with a very interesting topic! As far as in-universe things go, I think the simplest interpretation would be: a look back at simpler times. Before the ink craze, the damn machine and all that. The times when (I presume) the only concern was getting the shorts finished on time. Nostalgia for a bygone era. It was more the metaphorical side that I was aiming for when I was making this drawing.

I don't really like to use this term when I reminisce about things that, in my opinion, are very "recent", but since it's been 7 years (more than half a decade, jeez), I think using "nostalgia" in this case is allowed in my view.

It's not surprising to say that I'm nostalgic for the times of 2017-2018. (In terms of Bendy, of course, not in terms of life in general, lmao) It's been so long... On one hand, similar to the in-universe reason, it was simpler times, I admit. Things weren't so…crazy, so to speak. And on the other hand, it's because of the good memories of that time (again, in terms of this franchise). The wait between chapters, the teasers, the theories, and the in-betweens. And what I wanted to show here, one of my top favorite moments that I remember the most, was the release of the reveal trailer for BATIM Chapter 3.

I was excited that day! I had just gotten home when the trailer dropped and I immediately went to watch it. An actual in-universe Bendy cartoon! Bendy and Boris animated! Mysterious Shadow!?!? and then BOOM, game stuff. Henry running in a hallway, silhouettes of new characters, Bendy statue, Miracle Station? and BOO, the Ink Demon jumping in the station! Alice humming, and OOOHHHHH RELEASING IN SEPTEMBER, LETS GOOO.

It was really cool. I would not only say this is one of my favorite moments, but also that that trailer is my favorite trailer we've had. Yeah, in the end the "gameplay" in the second half of the video was just a cutscene running, and the "scene" that happened in the trailer doesn't actually happen in the game. Hell, the "hallway trailer" wasn't even in the release! But, the cutscene is still pretty cool anyway, plus, even though the scene doesn't literally happen in the game, it still teased elements that were in the game without giving away spoilers, so the trailer wasn't a total lie at the end of the day.

But yeah, nostalgia. A hell of a drug, but at the same time, a nice time machine,I say.

On an unrelated note, hey, prompt for day 1, and I'm not that late! Sure, I'm posting this after midnight, so it's not day 1 anymore, but still, compared to other years, I'm very up to date with the event. After all, 1-2 hours late isn't that late compared to 1 week. But of course, prompt 2 is going to be another story entirely, but in the meantime? I'll enjoy this achievement.

Have a great event this year folks!

[violetganache42]

A collection of highlights celebrating some of the best dads, uncles, and father figures in the Duckverse/Mickey & Friends franchise:

"Donald's Happy Birthday"

Donald's birthday being on THE DAY BEFORE KRABS FRIES

hueberryshortcake: "WHAT THE FUCK LUEY" puffywuffy8904 and caro: "LUEY?!"

WriteBackAtYa admitting how some of the Donald shorts he streams are reminders on why his DT17 iteration is the best one

"Darkly Dawns the Duck"

Godfrey and Missy joining JUST IN TIME for the theme song

A man has fallen for a man in St. Canard

"Oh brother, this guy STINKS!!!"

Darkwing always forgetting the milk

Clips from the theme being featured in the episode

Everyone passing on Hammerhead in "Smash or Pass"

Godfrey and I joking about the vulture being Bradford

Everyone happy to see Launchpad!

"I'm a pilot!"

The first crash of the Not-the-Thunderquack

Everyone also happy to see Gosalyn making her debut!

Gosalyn's adoption monologue

puffywuffy8904: "ON HIS YEEYEE ASS BIKE"

ACAB! Again! (Except to M'ma)

"I'm a kid. I'm supposed to be irresponsible."

Missy: "im gonna choke gosalyn and drake" WriteBackAtYa: "-Darth Vader" Godfrey: "Nooooo" WriteBackAtYa: "-Darth Vader in Revenge of the Sith"

Little Girl Blue

Godfrey: "Major motion picture DW CHILL"

Darkwing Kung-Fu

Jail bird

Launchpad crashing into the jail cell

Thunderquack

Darkwing Duck: "Let's get dangerous!" Us:

"Before I met you, I didn't have a life worth risking."

Bulba: *steals the gold* Godfrey and I: *Scrooge mention* caro: "ME MONEY, ME BEAUTIFUL MONEY"

hueberryshortcake: "it's over taurus bulba i have the high ground" Me: "YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY POWER"

Drake adopting Gosalyn

The theme song playing before the credits rolled

"Life, the Negaverse, and Everything"

Fearsome Five appearance!

Missy's Negaduck Mode going into overdrive

hueberryshortcake: "ATTENTION DRAKE MALLARD!!!!!!!!" Godfrey: "I'VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT-"

"I hate the Muddlefoots, and I hate their parties!"

Drake's relationship with the Muddlefoots:

(Meme by @blondedonaldduck)

Fearsome Five in a nutshell:

(Meme by @hueberryshortcake)

melcat33: "they are so desparate to appease the boss" Missy: "i'm desparate to appease negaduck, too"

(This has become a running gag with these highlights. lol)

Darkwing Duck: Into the Negaverse

Nega Gosalyn and Nega Launchpad appearance!

Della 🤝 Darkwing NOTHING CAN STOP THEM

Nega Honker being a FUCKING MENACE

Friendly Four appearance!

"Gosalyn's guardian is Negaduck."

Us: "NOT THE TOWER"

"LOSERS"

Spider-Clown

Darkwing's Ducks

MY ACCIDENTAL TIMING (I was actually crying from laughing so hard! lmao)

puffywuffy8904: "MEGAVOLT'S YEEYEE ASS MASK"

Nega Gosalyn having four Darkwings to take care of her

Negaduck getting killed

"What Ever Happened to Donald Duck?!"

Lunaris Hate Club

Donald getting beak clamped like: "You can't mute me, old man!"

Phooey mention!

Dewey and Webby's ghost pepper conspiracy theory:

Penumbra appearance!

"Unlikely roommate situation"

Dew-tective and Bad Cop

SAVE THE SAD, WET CAT

Dewey and Webby getting to be kids

"Bills, bills, more bills. Man, being an adult is not fun."

Missy: "Jones needs to learn how to word his letters better"

Anger management therapist Jones being based off of Neighbor Jones

Classic Donald Duck shorts humor and slapstick in this episode

"Fine, but if that summer camp shuts down, it's on you."

"Aw, phooey."

Scrooge, his enemies, Della, and the triplets being among potential threats to Lunaris

puffywuffy8904: "lunaris is such a nice man surely he would never target children specifically OH NO"

Lunaris electrocuting Penumbra:

(I am sorry if Tumblr butchered the quality from 1080p to 720p.)

Scrooge sounding OFFENDED at Dewey calling him "old man"

Jones' monologue about Donald's anger issues and how he was able to channel it healthily

Donald attacking Lunaris:

"PK FIRE" "PK THUNDER" "PK FREEZE" "ZETTAFLARE"

"Goofy's Grandma"

"HUMANS"

Dreamy: "GO MILITARY GRANNY GOOO"

Donald disguised as Goofy and getting paid for it

Mickey seeing a giant ass spider right as he opened the front door a la "Wormy"

A Goofy Movie (Rewatch)

caro: "Watching a movie. There better not be any goofy shit" puffywuffy8904: "WHAT THE FUCK"

Max dressed as Powerline

Pete losing Peg and Pistol in the divorce

Speaking of which, THE MOVIE THAT STARTED THE PETE HATE CLUB

The FUCKING principal

🎵STAND OUT ABOVE THE CROWD🎵

puffywuffy8904: "that was megavolt jr."

Donald being Goofy's best buddy!

Us whenever Idaho is mentioned: "POTATOLAND! POTATOLAND!"

puffywuffy8904: "you know who else is gonna end up in the electric chaaaair" WriteBackAtYa: "MY MOM"

melcat33 being Cinemasins (Ding!)

WriteBackAtYa: "To me, it's a regular movie." Me:

Wilhelm Scream

Mickey and Donald cameos!

Lester's Possum Park

Dreamy: "Max isn't white enough to like country music"

Lester mascot being Phantom Blot

SQUIRRELS IN MAX'S PANTS

WriteBackAtYa: "Stupid Rat Show"/"YOU LEAVE MIC'S NAME OUT OF THIS"

Amphibia AU of A Goofy Movie because Bill Farmer

The absence of Max's mom + the absence of the triplets' dad (*cough* Daffy *cough*) = they eloped together

Spam: "yeah i'm going to the zoo i'm going to the zoo and then i'm gonna see some animals"

The PIZZA

Seriously, between Three Musketeers and this, WHO THE FUCK IS RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE PETE FANSERVICE?!

"CHECK DA MAP GOOF"

The colors and lighting throughout the movie

DuckLooneyHistorian: "'My son respect me!' Really Pete, what about your wife? 😂"

Any joining at the WORST possible time

The scene that inspired Puffy's DT17 fanart…

…and the "Draw the Squad" meme

"I just want to be a part of it."

Just how fucking amazing the soundtrack is

WriteBackAtYa: "Don't tell me. We're about to go over a huge waterfall." Me: "Yep." WriteBackAtYa: "Sharp rocks at the bottom?" Me: "Most likely." WriteBackAtYa:

THE PERFECT CAST

Reminiscing about how "I2I" started playing RIGHT as Godfrey's birthday began

Any: "Dat ass ahyuk"

Powerline:

Jamming out to "I2I" during the credits

melcat33: "/to the tune of Bill Nye/ WILL WILL WILL WILL"

DuckLooneyHistorian doing the Goofy holler

[mayaheronthorn]

SHC February 2024 Headcanons of the month ✨🥰🏆

Ohhhhh, let's gooo ✨✨✨

This is really chaotic 😭

Kit wanted to watch the Percy Jackson series, cause he was a fan of the books, so he and Ty watched it weekly and Kit spoiled him everything from the lore 😭😂

Clary and Jace sometimes play Uno, and they are both so competitive that it becomes a fight for their life 🤣

Emma and Julian took a trip to Prague and Julian drew sooo much during that time

Magnus threw a party for Chairman Meow, Rafe got really drunk for the first time in his life and started singing Single Ladies by Beyonce✨

Kit flew into space when Taylor announced her new album, he's making 283821 theories about tracks and Ty is just listening to him, because he loves to watch him talk about something he loves (Ty is secretly becoming a swiftie too)

[starlightshadowsworld]

I feel this bares saying but I don’t make prediction posts because I think they’re gonna be correct.

I love this current arc of Bungou Stray Dogs and I love speculating and making theories and sharing them.

My predictions are always just for fun. I don’t assume that any are going to be correct. Even if I’m like 99% sure and can’t see any other way.

This is a very unpredictable series and I love it for that. I love seeing how I would frame things and how Asagiri does.

Is it nice to be proven right? Absolutely. The validation? The let’s gooo! The people yelling at me in my comments.

It’s beautiful.

Is it also, because it’s Bungou stray Dogs, absolutely soul crushing to be right? Absolutely.

The validation? The…let’s…go? The people yelling at me in my comments.

It has on a few occasions been mildly annoying to be right like I knew Fyodor was coming back…sigh.

Being wrong also comes with its own kind of crushing irony too.

Nothing will ever beat that time I was like oh and then Gozen is gonna attack Kunikida or Junichiro and Atsushi will show up in time to block the sword strike.

Show up in time…ah.

My favourite response to my prediction posts is definitely this is so good but respectfully I don’t want any of this to happen.

I dunno if it’s an accomplishment that at times I’ve made sadder things happen in my predictions then in canon.

But I’ll take it as one.

Also given again how unpredictable things are I can go even wilder with things and it still won’t be as bizzare as what we get.

And I mean that with the highest honour one can bestow.

Just to add though if you ever see a prediction I make and wanna be like hey you got that right or wrong.

I welcome it I just ask that you guys wait until you’ve seen me post about the chapter.

I think it’s sweet that people get excited and wanna tell me but plz wait till I’ve read the chapter myself.

At least let me read my crimes before the tomatoes start flying.

[biomaterial]

i love checking out rare books at the library to satisfy my shopping/hoarding tendency. freaky theory time lets gooo