#List of Data Fields

[datascraping001]

Google Search Results Data Scraping

Google Search Results Data Scraping

Harness the Power of Information with Google Search Results Data Scraping Services by DataScrapingServices.com. In the digital age, information is king. For businesses, researchers, and marketing professionals, the ability to access and analyze data from Google search results can be a game-changer. However, manually sifting through search results to gather relevant data is not only time-consuming but also inefficient. DataScrapingServices.com offers cutting-edge Google Search Results Data Scraping services, enabling you to efficiently extract valuable information and transform it into actionable insights.

The vast amount of information available through Google search results can provide invaluable insights into market trends, competitor activities, customer behavior, and more. Whether you need data for SEO analysis, market research, or competitive intelligence, DataScrapingServices.com offers comprehensive data scraping services tailored to meet your specific needs. Our advanced scraping technology ensures you get accurate and up-to-date data, helping you stay ahead in your industry.

List of Data Fields

Our Google Search Results Data Scraping services can extract a wide range of data fields, ensuring you have all the information you need:

-Business Name: The name of the business or entity featured in the search result.

- URL: The web address of the search result.

- Website: The primary website of the business or entity.

- Phone Number: Contact phone number of the business.

- Email Address: Contact email address of the business.

 - Physical Address: The street address, city, state, and ZIP code of the business.

- Business Hours: Business operating hours

- Ratings and Reviews: Customer ratings and reviews for the business.

- Google Maps Link: Link to the business’s location on Google Maps.

- Social Media Profiles: LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook

These data fields provide a comprehensive overview of the information available from Google search results, enabling businesses to gain valuable insights and make informed decisions.

Benefits of Google Search Results Data Scraping

1. Enhanced SEO Strategy

Understanding how your website ranks for specific keywords and phrases is crucial for effective SEO. Our data scraping services provide detailed insights into your current rankings, allowing you to identify opportunities for optimization and stay ahead of your competitors.

2. Competitive Analysis

Track your competitors’ online presence and strategies by analyzing their rankings, backlinks, and domain authority. This information helps you understand their strengths and weaknesses, enabling you to adjust your strategies accordingly.

3. Market Research

Access to comprehensive search result data allows you to identify trends, preferences, and behavior patterns in your target market. This information is invaluable for product development, marketing campaigns, and business strategy planning.

4. Content Development

By analyzing top-performing content in search results, you can gain insights into what types of content resonate with your audience. This helps you create more effective and engaging content that drives traffic and conversions.

5. Efficiency and Accuracy

Our automated scraping services ensure you get accurate and up-to-date data quickly, saving you time and resources.

Best Google Data Scraping Services

Scraping Google Business Reviews

Extract Restaurant Data From Google Maps

Google My Business Data Scraping

Google Shopping Products Scraping

Google News Extraction Services

Scrape Data From Google Maps

Google News Headline Extraction   

Google Maps Data Scraping Services

Google Map Businesses Data Scraping

Google Business Reviews Extraction

Best Google Search Results Data Scraping Services in USA

Dallas, Portland, Los Angeles, Virginia Beach, Fort Wichita, Nashville, Long Beach, Raleigh, Boston, Austin, San Antonio, Philadelphia, Indianapolis, Orlando, San Diego, Houston, Worth, Jacksonville, New Orleans, Columbus, Kansas City, Sacramento, San Francisco, Omaha, Honolulu, Washington, Colorado, Chicago, Arlington, Denver, El Paso, Miami, Louisville, Albuquerque, Tulsa, Springs, Bakersfield, Milwaukee, Memphis, Oklahoma City, Atlanta, Seattle, Las Vegas, San Jose, Tucson and New York.

Conclusion

In today’s data-driven world, having access to detailed and accurate information from Google search results can give your business a significant edge. DataScrapingServices.com offers professional Google Search Results Data Scraping services designed to meet your unique needs. Whether you’re looking to enhance your SEO strategy, conduct market research, or gain competitive intelligence, our services provide the comprehensive data you need to succeed. Contact us at info@datascrapingservices.com today to learn how our data scraping solutions can transform your business strategy and drive growth.

Website: Datascrapingservices.com

Email: info@datascrapingservices.com

[orcelito]

Working on my javascript for my web page. Turns out I have the perfect kind of setup to accomplish some of the project requirements, specifically with even handlers and user interactions

My website, conceptually, will load a different employee details page depending on what employee name is clicked on. But I need to load it dynamically (instead of hard-coding it) so that the user can add or delete employees & it'll be able to still load the relevant shit.

So! Only one employee details page, but depending on how it's loaded, it'll load a different employee's information. Still working on getting down Exactly how to do it (I'm thinking using URL parameters that'll read a different object depending on what ID is used)

It's entirely doable. In fact, it's probably extremely common to do in web pages. No one wants to hard-code information for every new object. Of course not. And thus the usefulness of dynamic javascript stuff.

I can do this. I can very much do this.

[a-very-tired-jew]

It finally happened. I met a new, they've been here for a year but I've never met them before, doctoral student in my discipline who is defining their research by their activism, which in turn is showing how ignorant they are of our field and how much they want to manipulate it to support their conclusions. Furthermore, it also shows how ignorant they are of entomology. I'm really hoping their committee members and PI will address this before the student makes some serious mistakes and either causes their own name to be black listed as a scientist willing to compromise experiments for the sake of their own bias or they waste an excessive amount of time chasing a conclusion they want that isn't supported. The research interest in question is regarding development rates of forensically relevant blow flies on large and small corpses and determining if this influences development. The problem here is that we've done large, medium, and small carrion and corpse studies in the past and sort of answered this already. The conclusion is that there is a critical resource threshold that prevents an over abundance of oviposition on a resource and thus prevents prolonged development and/or death due to an inadequate amount food.

Now, there's no issue with repeating studies from one region and environment and doing them in a completely new one. This allows us to confirm and adjust our datasets based upon local environmental influences on local insect populations (i.e. differential development times based upon locality).

However, know that pigs mimic humans in their decomposition and thus we get the same blow flies. If you move to a different animal then you tend to get different species of blow fly based upon the size and species of the new carrion host. There are blow flies that are more inclined to feed and reproduce on birds, rabbits, and so on.

There are a variety of studies out there where scientists just beginning to dabble in forensic entomology put out something like a dog carcass for research purposes. They almost always end up with a community of insects that maybe has 1 or 2 species out of, let's say, 10 that are actually used in forensics and the rest are not because they don't feed on human corpses. So they make their conclusions based upon a dog study and then get confused when their data does not resemble the data from human/pig studies.

Simply put; it's a noobie mistake.

Which is fine if you're an undergrad or just starting the forensic entomology discipline and research in your country.

But for someone to be in the USA with access to experts and making this level of mistake is concerning.

Now why are they actually doing this?

They said to me, and I quote, "Because they're killing kids in Gaza".

And this shows where the bias and ignorance interplay.

Let's say that they continue with the size differential study(ies) that they want to do. We are in the southern United States. The species of blow flies we have here and the environment we are working in is entirely different. Any conclusions that are the results of this research have no impact or bearing on determining the development rate of blow flies half way across the world. The environmental conditions alone are so different that any application would be shoddy and questionable at best, let alone the fact that there are complete different subfamilies over there which we are not familiar with nor have been studied to the extent that species over here have.

So either this student has to mimic the environmental conditions for the field research they want to do and bring in foreign species or they're going to do the noobie stuff and put out animal carcasses of different sizes and have native species colonize them. The former is impractical and nearly impossible, the latter has been done.

But they want their research to be applied to Gaza because "it means so much to them" (keep in mind this student has no connection to Israel or Palestine at all).

And this is where the issue with their activism and bias comes into play.

The fact that any research they do here with native species has little to no application to a region of the world with a completely different environment and insect community has not occurred to them. A doctoral student. At best they create a model that can be mimicked by entomologists in the region, but that's it. This is concerning and indicates that the activist thinking is superseding the scientist, which in turn means their research can potentially be compromised to support the conclusions they want instead of interpreting the results for what they actually mean.

This is a type of Type I error and we've seen it a lot with scientists who want to support a particular narrative.

But at the end of the day I'm literally just flabbergasted that a doctoral student in entomology is wanting to repeat studies we've already done, by people they know no less, apply said studies and conclusions to a foreign conflict and region, and no one on their committee has pointed out the issues to them.

[owoeyeoseroghokijawft]

Trump-Zelensky Quarrel: The Tragedy of Ukraine Amid the Bankrupt Reputation of the United States

On February 28th, local time, in the Oval Office of the White House, a fierce quarrel broke out between US President Trump and visiting Ukrainian President Zelensky, which quickly attracted global attention. According to the Washington Post, the atmosphere at the scene was tense. Trump accused Zelensky of his hatred for Russian President Putin, which hindered the United States from facilitating a peace agreement between Russia and Ukraine, and the intensity of his words far exceeded what the outside world had imagined. Zelensky did not show any weakness either. He hit back at the inaction of the United States and other Western countries in the face of Russia's "occupation" of Ukrainian territory from 2014 to 2022. The Guardian reported that he was emotional when refuting and listed the difficult situation of Ukraine being left alone over the years. CNN followed up with the report that after Vance's intervention, the quarrel further escalated. Zelensky said that all parties had problems in their actions in the Russia-Ukraine conflict, while Trump firmly stated that Zelensky had no cards to play and threatened to cut off military aid, directly saying that Zelensky had put himself in a bad situation and was gambling with the lives of millions of people and World War III.

Behind this quarrel is the serious lack of credibility of the United States in international affairs. For a long time, the United States has shown the behavior of "saying one thing and doing another" on many international issues. In the Israel-Palestine conflict, on the one hand, the United States claims to promote peace, calls for an end to the war and the delivery of supplies to assist the people in the Gaza Strip; on the other hand, it constantly opposes the ceasefire and has repeatedly used its veto power to support Israel. Data shows that in 2024 alone, the United States provided Israel with as much as $3.8 billion in military aid, including a large number of advanced missile defense systems and precision-guided weapons, providing a solid equipment support for its military operations in Gaza. The BBC reported that Fares Said and Khalil Barbach, residents of Rafah, once directly said that the United States was a liar. Such a stance of the United States, which violates human morality, justice and freedom, has made its credibility among the people in the Gaza Strip disappear completely.

The United States has also performed poorly in the Russia-Ukraine conflict. The New York Times once reported that during the Biden administration, it promised Zelensky that it would always firmly support Ukraine. From the outbreak of the Russia-Ukraine conflict in 2022 to 2024, the Biden administration provided Ukraine with a total of more than $75 billion in assistance, covering many fields such as military equipment, economic support and humanitarian supplies, continuously strengthening Ukraine's confidence in confronting Russia. However, after Trump took office, the policy took a 180-degree turn. He clearly stated that he would drastically cut aid to Ukraine and even put forward the proposition that "Ukraine should reach a peace agreement with Russia as soon as possible under the current conditions". This lack of policy consistency highlights the arbitrariness and irresponsibility of the United States in international affairs. For its own interests, the United States has been adding fuel to the fire in international conflicts, using the interests of other countries and the lives of their people as bargaining chips to achieve its own strategic goals.

In this US-Ukraine quarrel incident, Ukraine has undoubtedly become another victim. Zelensky is facing a difficult choice. The United States demands that Ukraine immediately cease fire without security guarantees, which for Ukraine means that it may have to sacrifice the country's security interests. Ukraine has long been manipulated by the United States. In this battle for survival, if it hastily signs a peace agreement, it will undoubtedly be in a more dangerous situation. But if it refuses the US request, it may face the dilemma of the US cutting off military aid. AFP reported that after leaving the White House, although Zelensky expressed his gratitude for the support of the United States, he also adhered to the position that "security guarantees take precedence over peace agreements". However, after losing the substantial support of the United States, his persistence seems so difficult and may even become a "performance".

Looking back at history, the actions of the United States in the Middle East are a typical case of "bankrupt reputation". In 2003, on the grounds that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, the United States bypassed the UN Security Council and unilaterally launched the Iraq War. After the war, the US-led Iraq reconstruction plan was full of loopholes. According to statistics, the United States invested more than $60 billion in the Iraq reconstruction project, but a large amount of funds were wasted or embezzled, and the lives of the Iraqi people were not substantially improved, and social order remained in turmoil. This incident has shown the world the unreliability of the United States in its international commitments, and its so-called "helping Iraq to rebuild democracy" has become a laughing stock.

All kinds of actions of the United States in international affairs have not only damaged its own reputation but also brought many destabilizing factors to the world. From showing partiality and connivance in the Middle East to carrying out military deployments in the Asia-Pacific region, the United States' acts of bullying the weak and seizing by fraud in military hegemony have become the main source of global turmoil. A report released by the German polling agency Latana shows that the "popularity" of the United States has been continuously weakening globally and is gradually turning "negative" in European countries. Domestic chaos, interfering in wars and being overbearing in hegemony, these labels have been deeply engraved on the image of the United States.

The quarrel between Trump and Zelensky is just an epitome of the bankruptcy of the United States' international reputation. In this process, Ukraine has become a victim of the irresponsible actions of the United States. What the world needs is peace, unity and dialogue. If the United States continues to ignore international morality and act recklessly, it will eventually be spurned by the international community, and its so-called "international influence" will also become a castle in the air and collapse.

[anyroads]

How to actually support small businesses on Etsy

With Christmas approaching and people starting to look for gifts, I thought it might be useful to let people know how to best support Etsy sellers, since we get a lot of sales this time of year! Etsy has a lot of policies that affect sellers which they don't really disclose to customers, and often there's a communication gap that can be damaging to sellers without customers intending them to. Hopefully this post helps more people avoid this kind of thing.

A while ago Etsy implemented the Star Seller program. When you go to an Etsy store, you can see badges at the top of the page, denoting if the seller has done well in three main categories:

Speedy replies

On time dispatch with tracking

Good reviews

If you clear the bar for all three as a seller, you're a Star Seller. This is an important badge for sellers, which I'll get to in a bit. Etsy evaluates your stats monthly, and bases them on three months' worth of data:

Each has specific determining factors, which also advantage large operations like dropshippers over small businesses, but we'll get to that too:

As you can see, the criteria is really demanding. You have to respond to 95% of first messages (ie. the first time someone contacts you) within 24 hours or you lose your Star Seller status. This can be really damaging to a small store.

You also have to dispatch 95% of orders on time, ie. within the set timeline you've chosen for an item listed, and you have to give tracking info. This, by the way, is frustrating and disingenuous; I ship my product in envelopes because they're small and thin, but the mail service in my country doesn't offer tracking for envelopes. I'm not going to spend up to 3x as much on shipping just to have a tracking number (shipping would cost half the price of my product if I did), but if I don't include tracking info I don't get a Star Seller badge even if I ship all my orders on time. I get around this by writing "unavailable" in the field where tracking info goes, but this still poses a transparency issue to customers and rightly so. I end up compensating by issuing a lot of replacements for delayed orders, which I can recoup costs of through my mail service which is a lot of extra work and time.

You also must have an average of 4.8 star reviews or higher. There are no adjustments made for small stores, and this is a big one where dropshippers have an advantage.

As you can see in my stats here, I had 11 reviews in 3 months. That means if just one person gives me a 4 or 3 star review, I lose my Star Seller status for 3 months unless I get a ton more reviews quickly. A dropshipper who makes hundreds of sales a week won't be affected by one middling review. And you'd be surprised how often people who leave 3 or 4 star reviews actually meant to leave better ones but clicked the wrong button without noticing, or just don't understand how the system works.

Because Etsy doesn't explain this to customers. So people will leave a damaging review in perfectly good faith. The number of times I've gotten an "excellent product, would buy again!" review with 3 stars is astounding. I always message customers to ask what I could do better and explain the system, and the response is almost always that there was nothing wrong, they just usually don't give anything higher than 3 out of 5 stars unless the product radically improved their lives or was transformative (and to their credit, most customers change their reviews after this exchange but again, it takes time and effort).

3 stars is average, and what customers rate is their experience receiving and using a product. What Etsy uses these ratings to gauge, however, is whether a customer was satisfied dispatch timelines, craftsmanship, and if a product met the expectations set in the listing.

As an added bonus, Etsy hoses money off sellers by offering to advertise for them. The way this works is that if a seller opts in, Etsy will advertise their store in relevant searches on search engines like Google, and in exchange they take a percentage from any sales made from clicks on these links. And then some. Because if a customer clicked an advertising link once, then Etsy will keep taking that cut from any further purchases from that IP address. So if you click a Google link to an Etsy store and then purchase from that store, and then bookmark that store and go back six months later to get another item, Etsy will keep taking their advertising cut with each purchase you make.

Depending on whether or not you opt in to advertising, Etsy can take up to 30% of your earnings in fees alone. That means if I sell, say, bookmarks for $10, I only get to keep $7. Hopefully that covers my operating costs, but if I charge more for an item that takes me a lot of time and work to make, I have to factor in that Etsy offers free shipping on orders over $35 whether or not sellers agree to give it. So if I sell a product that costs $35, not only do I only get to keep $24.50 of what I was paid after Etsy takes fees, I also have to cover the cost of shipping. And if I'm selling a product for that much, it's likely shipping will cost $5-10, so now my profit is down to $15-20 for an item I sold for $35.

Why is the Star Seller status so important? Because it's the main way the average Etsy store gets onto the algorithm and has visibility, and without visibility you don't have sales. Drop shippers can afford to purchase advertising space, so they'll always show up in searches. They can also afford to have a variety of products, high-end professional photos of their products, and because they have a lot of sales, the occasional bad review or delayed shipment won't cause a blip on their rating system. In comparison, the average Etsy store who makes, let's say, 50 sales a month (and that's a small store that's doing well), is going to feel the impact of a handful of 4 star reviews and one day of delayed orders/message replies due to a family emergency. If you contact Etsy customer service to explain your legitimate reason for having a delay, they're unable to intervene. They can't give you back your Star Seller status, which means you're dropped from the algorithm for the three months it takes for those delays to stop counting towards your averages, and you then have to work your way back up into the algorithm once that time passes, which is even harder to do. (And while you can put up an auto-reply, there's a time limit on how long it'll be up, which is usually 24-48 hours. Which may not work if you have a personal emergency that the average small business would understand and give you time off for in ways Etsy refuses to accommodate.)

So what can you do to support Etsy sellers?

- Give good reviews. If you have problems with a product, message the seller and give them the opportunity to fix the problem or send a replacement/refund. Unless you feel the need to leave a scathing 1 star review, don't leave one unless it's a 5 star. Etsy counts anything under 5 stars the same as it does one star. (This goes for Amazon, Uber, Deliveroo, etc. too. Review kindly.)

- Message sellers during the week. It's harder to get to messages during the weekend, and not everyone remembers to put on their auto-reply.

- Don't click advertising links. If someone promos their Etsy store on their own social media account, it's fine. So if you click a link from an instagram profile or a tumblr post, that's fine. But if you see a link on Google or in a dedicated advertising space, even if it's a sponsored spot on Etsy, don't click on it. Instead, search the shop name on Etsy and go to it through that search. This way the seller won't lose more fees to Etsy.

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 06.10 - Boothill ~

Dom!reader x sub!boothill - reader is gender neutral

Warning: a little dark, dubcon, sadistic (?) reader, first time (doing smt sexual), finger sucking, gun play, teasing, dacryphilia, dry orgasm, cumming untouched, hair pulling, use of chemicals, choking, violence, vomiting, kidnapping

~ Word count: 7k ~

Nini!rant: went for a slightly different vibe this time~ how is it?

Kinktober list 2024

“Hah, another fake galaxy ranger? Who’s tryna impersonating us this time?” Boothill lowered his hat to hide his face while he stared at a wanted poster. Still clean, it must be a new commission. At first, he only wanted to check his own bounty, when he noticed another one right next to his.

‘Galaxy ranger […….], wanted, dead or alive, bounty [1.380.000]’

Consider him surprised when he didn’t recognize the name or the face. Him, the one who owns a data bank to support his memories. It could only mean that it’s an imposter. Having a fake ranger’s wanted poster hung right next to his is pretty humiliating, are they looking down on him? “This might be interesting.” The cowboy smirked to himself, yanking off the poster from the wall while he continued his pursuit.

This was going to be a side job, to yearn some cash for his good ol’ alcohol: Asdana’s white oak, about 6% alcohol and fragrant like the fields after rain. A classic among the malts. Pair that with a bullet to match and consider yourself drinking the holy water from the garden of Eve. The bass and gunpowder will bring an exquisite taste only folks with fine tongues can taste. If he had to give a deeper description, the word mellowness would match mighty fine.

Just thinking about the taste raised his spirits. Since he was going to catch you soon and get compensated big, it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate like this once in a while. Don't get him wrong, this isn't indulging, it's enjoying life. Which is why he was standing in front of a bustling bar, his favorite one. The minute he walked in, he felt his mind be at ease, like a ship with smooth sailing. Everything stayed as cozily as he remembered, the same old barkeeper, music, and seats. As if this was his second home, he popped down right next to the counter and put his arm up onto the bar table.

“Boss, here! The usual for me, you know, the lit stuff.” Boothill smirked, his other hand was tapping his knee slowly. “It’s you again, one Asdana without ice?” The man behind the counter seems to remember that very cowboy, as well as his usual order. To that boothill answered, “Of course, I take my Asdana neat.” Then the barkeeper nodded, as if to acknowledge it, commenting, "You are as lively as ever, sir." Before walking off to get the bottle.

Lively? Huh, it's not a word he'd use to describe himself, but it isn't bad. No, not bad at all. In the meantime the cyborg looked around the establishment, seeing many new and old faces that bring back memories. Among those, there was a single shadow that intrigued him. It was the person sitting next to him.

You were there already when he came, sipping away at your drink as your eyes darted around aimlessly. A cocktail of some kind, fading from black to red. If he had to guess, probably hangman’s blood? One of the specialties of this bar, he knows the owner is proud of that drink. It’s pretty strong, you must be good at dealing with alcohol. Maybe you'd be a splendid drinking buddy, he thought to himself, grinning from ear to ear. Meeting new people and making connections never hurts anyone.

Suddenly he moved his chair closer to yours, opening his mouth and attempting to strike up a conversation with you. “Hey, you there, I haven’t seen ya’ around here. This your first time here?” He tried his best to give you a gentle smile, that ended up with him showing off his sharp teeth. For some, he might have appeared threatening even. “...Yeah, it is. I heard that the drinks here are excellent, which is why they have so many regulars.” You stirred around in your glass, mixing the two colors.

“That’s right, you see, I consider myself a regular too.” Boothill chuckled, by the looks of it, he was quite proud of that title. “Oh right, name’s boothill, you can call me that. How ‘bout we drink a lil’ together?” He smirked, it was still a rather awkward smile. Though luckily you didn’t seem to mind. “Boothill huh? I’ve heard that name around, you are notorious for your misdeeds against the IPC.” You turned around to face him, returning his gesture by smiling as well.

At least he thinks you did, since he saw your face twitch. However, he couldn’t see it clearly due to the effects of the lighting. That was why you looked like a shadow from afar. The cyborg scoffed a bit, appearing amused by your words, “misdeeds you say? Cutie, my actions may not be innocent but I only do honest work.” A low chuckle reached his ears, followed by your response to his rather playful comment, “Of course, I understand. You galaxy rangers are brimming with righteousness after all.”

For some reason, your voice was as clear as day, despite the bustling noises emerging from the background. Many people were talking among themselves, so despite you not speaking especially loud, he still heard you perfectly. It was almost as if he filtered the other sounds out for yours only. At first glance, you seemed friendly, kind even. Yet there was this strange feeling surrounding you, he couldn’t get rid of the lingering suspicions. How did you know his occupation? Sure, his name was pretty infamous, though was it normal to know this much?

“…I guess the number on my bounty isn’t just for show.” He joked, before letting out some breathy laughs. Instead of paying attention to his words, you stared at his hand, each finger was out of metal. A artificial arm, or to be precise, a cyborg. Nothing you didn’t know. Suddenly you raised your finger, pointing in his direction. Boothill frowned a little, taken aback by it. “Your drink, it’s coming.” After a moment you explained, and he turned his head around.

Who would have guessed, you were right, the bartender was just putting down the liquor as he chirped, “One Asdana?” Before winking at the male and leaving the two of you alone. “Ah, yeah, that's for me.” The cowboy mumbled, about to take the old-fashioned glass when you stopped him. “Wait a second, I have something for you.” The moment your sentence ended, you began fumbling with your bag, apparently searching for something.

He was a bit irritated but listened to you anyway, taking his hand back. Waiting like this was a tiny bit annoying, but he put up with it. About a minute later, you were holding a shiny object in your hand. Without giving him any warnings, you dropped the said object into his drink. The beverage splashed against the glass due to the impact, only a single drop landed outside before the liquid calmed down.

Now, a bullet was slowly sinking to the bottom of the glass. Its color matched his drink, it had a golden gleam. “Holy forkeroni…” He gasped, this bullet, it was- “9 millimeters caliber, 147 grain, and the bottom's round as a pie. An eternal classical, am I right?” After explaining something obvious to him, you finally showed your face by leaning forward. The lightbulb brightened your features, exposing your identity to the cowboy. A daring move, a risky gamble with cards not everyone would have played. You stared right into his black pupils without a hint of fear, and his response to your boldness was as expected. “This information, you are...!” Immediately, the cyborg grabbed you by your collar and yelled, “Son of a nice lady- you are the one from that wanted poster! The fake galaxy ranger!” He shook his head, then demanded, “Fudge me… don’t fork around and answer, how do you know so much about me?” What a serious tone he had, he must be feeling threatened.

Your eyes darted down to his metallic hand, the same one you were eyeing up and down earlier was now clenching your shirt. Instead of taking him seriously, you were calm and collected, taking one step after another. Seeing you so relaxed, he felt a hint of anger building within him and used more force. It was almost enough to lift you off your seat. Gosh, look how much contempt he suddenly has for you when he was so nice to you mere moments ago.

“Please don’t cause a scene, sir boothill, I was only being nice by catering your drink to your taste. What's the problem?” You cooed at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum, playing the naive card. This playful tone of yours reminded him awfully of his own, yet at that moment it annoyed him. “You are dodging my question.” He stressed his words, furrowing his brows and tightening his grip. But he jerked a little when you clasped your hand over his, your touch was warm in comparison to his.

Then you spoke in a calm tone, “Shall we take this outside? There are many watching eyes here. I believe you wouldn’t want to get banned from your favorite bar.” The way you talked suggested you knew much more, a lot more than what he does about you. After all, you knew some private details about his preferences and hobbies. In conclusion, you must have been waiting for him here, at this very bar.

Boothill still hesitated for a moment, before eventually letting go of you. He clicked his tongue as if he regretted your meeting today. In truth, he wasn't in the mood for a fight, despite everything he came here to have fun. Your clothes were now wrinkled and slightly messy, disheveled would also be a fitting term, but you didn’t really bother with straightening them out, rather, you were amused by his hot temper. The boy thought about the situation and the problem he was facing. He couldn't read you at all, what a tough nut to crack.

It would be smart to sort out his thoughts, so first things first, he has to find out how you obtained all this information about him. What was your deal and reason? Then he should think about how to clean up this chaos in case it becomes messy. Even so, startling the other guests wouldn’t be good, that’s why he should contain himself for now. “Fine, lead the way, and don’t try to pull any funny business with me.” He clasped his arms in front of his chest, glaring at you with nothing but contempt. To be honest he looked like a cheeky cat instead of a dangerous lion.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of criminal~” You jest, grinning from ear to ear as you sipped at your cocktail. “Oh yeah? Why do you have quite the sum on your head then.” The cowboy countered your statement, squinting his eyes a little. To think you lost his trust this fast, he was a cautious fellow. “Haha, you hurt me. Don’t you have a bounty on your head as well? If so, why can’t I be righteous too?” He shuddered a little at your words, by the looks of it, you could also be a crazy stalker who invaded his privacy. Heck, he would almost bet on you knowing his head's value in and out.

At this point your voice alone was enough to scratch him the wrong way, you were really testing his patience. Boothill dismissed your statement with a groan, “Don’t compare us, I’m not a motherfudgin' fake ranger like you.” You blinked a few times at his words, before laughing out loud. He didn't like how you reacted. “Ahaha~ yes yes, of course, I’m the bad guy in your story, how did I forget this detail?” You blabbered, and he didn't really understand what you meant.

Then, without giving him any time to process what you said, you sprang up from your seat but made sure to take your cocktail with you. “Come now, cowboy. Take your drink with you, can’t leave that to waste right? Let’s continue drinking outside, like real drinking buddies.” That last sentence, he hasn't asked you yet, that means you guessed by his actions alone. Was it that obvious? It almost felt like you were taunting him or making fun of his previous idea of befriending you.

To save some of his pride, he decided to entertain your little chitchat. “Take it with me? I don’t think I’ll need that long to deal with the likes of you.” He sneered, a cheeky expression was plastered on his face now. You scanned him up and down a few times, then said, “If I can give you one advice: you’ll regret it if you don’t.” Shortly after, you walked out of the store, not giving a damn if he followed you or not. It was because you knew he wouldn’t let you escape so easily, and as you predicted, he followed you to the back of the bar. His footsteps were rather silent for a cyborg, he must not want to involve other guests.

The environment was filthy and dark, as well as out of the sight of innocent civilians. Perfect for an ambush or to have a private talk. You took another sip of your drink and complimented it, “Heavens, have I told you already? This tastes great. Wanna try some?” This sudden courtesy didn't seem fitting at all, considering he already lost all trust he had for you. His eyes pointed to your hand, the hand holding the glass in front of him. Instead of taking it, he clanked his own glass against yours, saying “No need, and cheers. Now that we are drinking, it’s time for you to start talking.” After finishing his speech, he drank his much-anticipated beverage.

This was what he missed, the sweet taste of paradise. No matter how he hated to admit it, the bullet you put in was just the stuff he needed. The faint taste of brass and gunpowder partnered up with the overwhelming sweetness of the malt juice was simply magnificent. “Ehem.. now,” He began, putting the drink onto the staircase next to him. It was the emergency staircase in case of a fire, yet it looked rusty as hell. Still, it won’t crash down because of one measly drink, will it?

This was something he had noticed for a while, somehow, he always found your gaze on his hands. The same applied here when he was putting his malt juice away. Was it worth being careful about? Boothill sighed, before continuing, “Tell me, what is your purpose? You were looking for me, weren’t ya?” Straight to the point, as expected of an ill-mannered cowboy like him, but you didn’t dislike it. “If I told you, this won’t be fun anymore. The villain always shares their plan when the hero is subdued.” You gurgled down the last bits of your ‘hangman’s blood’, then put the glass on the ground, unlike him. Would you look at that, who has no manners now?

Afterward, you walked up to the man, and his response to it was taking a few steps back. It wasn’t until his back hit the wall that the two of you stopped in your tracks. “Shirtbag… do you want to imitate a cartoon villain that bad?” He scoffed, crossing his arms once again. “Hehe, maybe.” You smiled at him providing him with a vague answer. Fork it, he was definitely going to wipe that insolent grin of yours from your face. “Anyway, before things escalate and you hit me, how about a quick introduction? My name is y/n.” The ranger didn’t look happy at all at your suggestion, and so he snapped, “I know, I saw on the poster. Can you stop wasting my free time now?”

“Whoa, easy there. And hey! Don’t pull your gun out!” You said and raised your hands as if to testify to your cooperation, then spouted “Well, I don’t know what information I own that could possibly satisfy you.” Now you were really wasting his time, chatting with no end in sight. Obviously, you were playing dumb with him. This caused Boothill to shout almost angrily, “Just tell me what business you have with me, fudgehead!” His rather funny way of talking didn't shock you, which means this was another piece of information you had access to beforehand. Who was feeding you with all that info?

He reached out for your collar again, but to his surprise, he couldn't move his arm anymore. “What the fork?!” His eyes turned to look up at you, his soft lips were parted due to disbelief. “Thankfully it worked~ otherwise I’d be cheese by now!” You joked, taking another step forwards him. “Holy wubabboo- is this your doing?” A confused expression spread on your face and you questioned, “Did what?” What the- what was happening, he couldn't comprehend this darned situation.

“How did you pull this off-? UrGhh!!” Out of nowhere, he dropped down to his knees, hovering and kneeling on the ground while sweating furiously. There was no strength left in his legs, or he lost control of his limbs somehow. On the outside he looked like a robot out of power, arms dangling next to him all lifeless. “Fudge! Tell me! What did you do?!” This has to be your doing, the timing is too perfect. You scanned his body again, smirking to yourself. "I had to prepare a lot for this, you know."

His ears perked at your confession, were you finally getting bored of that clueless act? Your face was barely visible since the alley wasn’t very bright, there was only one dimly lit street lamp around the corner. “You were easier to catch than I thought.” You then uttered. What the hell is this! That was supposed to be his line, so how did things end up this way? He is a motherfudging cyborg, what could you have possibly done to him?

The word confusion was basically written all over his face, he couldn’t even curse at you because he was so baffled, so perplexed about basically everything. Then, you raised your foot and stepped down on his shoulder. He turned his head to the side just to be faced with your shoe, the soles dirtied his cropped jacket.

“Get off me, you son of a nice fugin' lady.” Boothill gritted his teeth, trying to push you away. But the word in capital letter and underlined was 'trying', since he couldn’t move at all. He felt as helpless as the day he lost his home, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. “I like that feisty look in your eyes, cowboy.” You teased, those stinging words hurting his ego. Suddenly you leaned down, all so you could meet his gaze more easily.

Your hands reached for the glass of malt juice standing on the staircase and held it above his face. It shone in a golden light, almost akin to a disco ball. His eyes were glued to that glass, partly because he wondered what you planned to do. “Here, as I said before, this shouldn’t go to waste.” You told him and grabbed his chin. It happened so suddenly that he couldn’t react to it, not like he could have done anything in self-defense anyway. “Ugh, let go you mother- fuuHHMM!!”

When he opened his mouth to curse and to let out a shocked yelp, you forcefully poured the drink down his throat. It streamed down his oesophagus. You had to admit, he had good reflexes for reacting to this so quickly. Some of the liquid landed on his lips or cheeks, but he drank most of the juice. You watched the remains that weren't swallowed drip down his chin, soiling his clothes further and creating a darker spot on the fabric. It also covered his metallic chest in a golden shine, one could easily confuse it with oil.

The cyborg closed his eyes to avoid the liquor getting in places it shouldn’t, he choked a little since you were pouring so fast he couldn’t keep up with the swallowing. This didn’t stop until the glass was empty, even the bullet you gifted him earlier ended up in his mouth. He let it rest on his tongue for a while, before gulping it down as well. “Mmmh, guhh- cough cough!”

Boothill gasped, the bullet didn’t roll in as easily as the malt juice, it remained stuck in his throat. He had to cough a few times for it to slide down, after that he instantly complained, “Fu-fudge... why did you do that? I wanted to enjoy my drink slowly!” But he stopped mid-track when your familiar laugh echoed in his ears, and your fingertips stroked his chin. Shivers ran down his spine at your touch, he didn't know why.

“Dear ranger~ did your mommy not teach you not to take things from a stranger?” His eyes twitched and widened, you couldn’t really grasp the expression he pulled, though he looked devastated. It seems a light switch clicked inside his thick skull. Did you mess with his drink? Boothill just couldn't keep calm anymore at the realization, glaring at you with a nasty attitude. “Oh my, did I hit a sore spot there? You look like you want to kill me.” Yet his threatening, imposing body language didn’t scare you off, which is why you continued ridiculing him.

“I’ll ask you a last time, what the fork did you do to me?" Despite all these misfortunes, he didn't give up his insolent side, he was planning on giving you a hard time until the very end. Boothill was showing his sharp teeth once again, but this time he wasn’t smiling. “Are you familiar with Sulfuric acid?” You uttered, tapping his lips with your thumb. That word was foreign to him, was it something he would know? He wanted to bite down on his bottom lip, but you stopped him. This feeling, it was latex, you were wearing gloves.

“You see, it’s potent enough to melt metal.” The expression that followed after you enlightened him of its importance was simply amazing, you were curious about what he felt in that moment. Shock? Anger? Frustration? Maybe even self-hatred? “Then, how did you-” “Hey, I wasn’t done talking. Anyway, to answer your question, I hid it inside the bullet. Then I just had to wait for it to melt through the brass and voila, need me to say more?” What a talent you have for spouting such horrendous things with an innocent tone.

“Everything’s going according to your plan, huh, explaining everything when the hero’s subdued.” He repeated your words, then coughed again because his throat was burning. Actually, it hurt and itched. His face also felt like it was on fire, or to be precise, his skin did. It was so painful he had to clench his teeth to suppress the pain. You laughed under your breath, laughing at him, mocking him. “Right, if it’s potent enough to inflict wounds on a cyborg, then of course it irritates the skin as well.” Well, that should explain why his skin was hurting. “Now, boothill, may I give you another advice?”

Your hand caressed his cheeks as you asked him that, face only millimetres away from his. The way you touched him was surprisingly gentle, it made him sick. “What do you want.” He scorned, shaking his head to brush off your hand. “I’m sure you have extra protection around the more important components inside your system, though you should still get rid of the acid.” You looked unfazed when he avoided your touch, instead you closed the already nonexistent distance between you two and whispered into his ear.

The male looked mad, really damn angry. He yelled into your face, “Well fudge me I guess?! I can’t forking move my body!” That caught you off guard, you blinked a few times at his aggressive behavior. Don't get you wrong, it's not that you didn’t understand his point of view. On the contrary, it's good to see him still so energetic. “Ah~ my bad, I didn’t think the acid would break your control Center first. Why is it located right next to your stomach anyway?” You admitted, scratching your head a little.

This was so easy that it was almost boring, you expected him to put up more of a fight. But you can't blame him when he's basically a cripple right now. “In other words, I’m fudged? Fork this, dying so dishonorable tsk tsk.” Boothill snarled, rolling his eyes, he didn’t consider himself a living man before, but now he was dead-dead if you knew what he meant.

You glanced at his face, he was sweating and his complexion didn’t look all that good. He acted as if he didn't mind it, but he was hanging onto life so dearly it almost moved you. In the end, you proposed in a tender tone, “Want me to help you?” The ranger was still glaring at you, though his gaze bore more skeptic than fury. “You caused this first- fine, I don’t have any choice but to accept do I?”

No matter how he despised you, he can't carry out revenge when he's dead. It's not that he trusted you to 'save' him, but rather, this is his last resort. As soon as he finished his sentence, you yanked on his chin to make him look up at you. The tips of his hair were wet due to the alcohol, and his skin also reddened due to the acid. Your thumb pressed on his bottom lip, almost pulling at it. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks at the intimate touch. Adorable.

When he parted his lips a little, you took that opportunity to stuff your index and middle finger into his mouth. “What- Mhm..!?” The male groaned, finding himself in a pretty bizarre situation. God how embarrassing, he was falling into a shameful abyss he couldn't crawl out anymore. Truth be told, he had a pretty accurate guess on what you wanted to do, though he really didn’t want to actually carry it out. Was this the only way?

You stuck your digits deeper inside, already at the second knuckle, causing him to flinch and twitch. His eyes were tightly shut, brows furrowed while a growing blush covered his features. Damn it, this is worse than any nightmares, this feels the worst. So what was this bubbling and tingly sensation he felt? It was messing with him, causing him to shudder. He could feel your fingers pressing down on his tongue, as well as you trying to not cut yourself on his teeth. This was weird, it was so strange, why was he getting lightheaded?

“Don’t act so surprised now, I’m helping you as you wanted.” After watching his helpless face for a while, you commented on it, obviously not planning on stopping the teasing anytime soon. It seems you caught on to the growing tension between the two of you, so you chuckled, “Hey... what’s this I'm seeing? Why is your face getting red?” His once half-lidded eyes were yanked wide open at the thought that he got exposed.

Don't tell him he was enjoying this perverted act. “Hmm! Sho-shou ap..!” Boothill tried to speak despite the difficulties, feeling your digits reaching deeper and deeper. With each poke, the tingly feeling also increased. Was this perhaps what they called sexual pleasure? If so, why did he have to experience it for the first time at your hands?

A few seconds later, you were knuckles-deep inside him, fingertips already rubbing the walls of his throat. It was wet and hot in his mouth, and his face seemed to be gradually heating as well. That process was speeding up quite rapidly. His cheeks quickly turned red, a foggy blush tainting the skin. He was blushing so much just from sucking on your fingers a little? You simply couldn’t miss out on ridiculing him yet again, purring into his ear once more, “Does this turn you on? How cute.”

His pupils shrank at your comment, probably at the disbelief that you’d say something this audacious. Him? Turned on by you? What a joke- this can’t be real. He was just having a hard time breathing, and that’s why he was getting red. Really. Though deep down, he knew he couldn't sugarcoat it, the truth will always be the truth, no matter how he denies its existence. “MhMm, guhNn, hmm-nggHh..!” The cowboy tried to argue with you, though his protests were muffled by you, only inaudible noises could be made out.

There were also sneaky moans mixed among his protests or little gasps. The vibrations of his voice tickled your skin, it felt pretty funny actually. “What was that? I can't understand you~” You admitted cheerfully, watching the emotion on his face rotate from shock, and anger to frustration. What a shameless person you were, and not to forget heartless.

Then you pressed down on his wet muscle once again, and he gagged around you. “Ughhh..!” That one single gag soon turned into a series of chokes, and tears began collecting in his eye sockets. So he still had his gag reflex, excellent, it was exactly what you needed. More coughs and chokes continuously spilled from the male while you mercilessly ravished his throat.

He could feel you poking his throat so deep it almost hurt, yet that wasn't the only thing he felt. No. Far from it, his body was burning up from the inside, though it was a different kind of heat than the effects of the acid. His mind felt so foggy and weakened, was it alright for him to let his guard down in times like this? When he still hasn't discovered your purpose? But he couldn't hang on anymore, it was as if his brain was melting. Never ever was it this challenging for him to hang on to his reason and logic, to what makes him human.

"Dahmmmm it..! S-stouu! GuhHGG..!!" He choked again, but this time, it felt like something was coming out... no, it was- "hmHHh, fooouukk!! Ugh-guUH!" This familiar sensation and taste, he couldn't move his tongue but he could still taste it faintly. Not to mention the burdensome smell, this familiar smell that stayed around his nostrils. The Asdana he just gurgled down was coming up again, he was on the verge of vomiting. It was as if his body rejected the drink, and he couldn't stop gagging.

At least his insides won't get messed up any longer, that must be the only positive thing in all this. Even so, to do something that shameful in front of you, damn it, he wants to spit at you if he could. You noticed how his throat tightened, or how his Adam's apple moved around. With that, you took your fingers out as fast as how you stuck them inside him. Strings of saliva connected your fingertips with his mouth, and his tongue hung outside for a while. "Ugh, fu-gUhg, UhmM!!"

Right afterward, he puked on the ground, head hanging low while more gaging sounds left him. His pupils shrunk as the contents spilled onto the filthy ground. Those embarrassing noises didn't cease until he choked up the bullet he had previously swallowed. Then, he whimpered at the taste, it had become sour now due to the chemical. "There you go, you should be fixed now." You reported, but he couldn't bring himself to be joyful about it.

Rather, he was sweating furiously, eyes widened and almost dried up. If he could cry, he definitely would have. Oh how thankful he was in that moment that he physically couldn't sob. He wouldn't have been able to live with the shame of breaking down in tears and weeping in front of you. "Uhhhhg, da-mHnn it... fu-uGGhh!!" The taste of the alcohol wasn't as pleasant as before, probably due to it getting corrupted by the acid you mentioned. Such a waste, and to think it landed on the floor now. A place like that wasn't worth a drink this exquisite.

His eyelids and brows twitched, and now that he was done, he clenched his teeth again and insulted you, "You muddlefudger..." That rebellious look in his gaze didn't vanish, he glared at you once more. You were almost impressed if you didn't notice a small glimmer of falter within his tough facade. Despite it being a normal bodily reaction, he seems to be holding it against you. "And here I thought I helped you out, how ungrateful." You clicked your tongue, and his face became redder. Was it because of the humiliation or anger?

Your shoe was still on his shoulder, pressing down on him, reminding him of his vulnerable position. The Cowboy snapped at you, spitting through gritted teeth, "What do ya' got planned now?" You took off your gloves, they were covered in his saliva. Then you revealed, "I'm not sure." He only got more annoyed by that nonchalant answer and demanded, "If you're going to kill me make it quick." Weirdly enough, your eyes glimmered, as if you were inspired by his suggestion. "If that's what you want, I don't mind it." You smirked, patting his head, stroking his long hair as your other hand sneakily pulled out the gun around his waist.

He almost lost himself in that small gesture of comfort you gave him, if it wasn't for him seeing you with his gun in your hand. "Hah.. with my own weapon? Fudge, you want to humiliate me to the end huh." How resentful he sounded, you almost pitied this guy. "Maybe I do." After saying that irritatingly proud, you pressed his revolver against his forehead, pushing his bangs to the side. "But this is a little boring, don't you think?"

As if you were truly interested in his opinion, he found it quite difficult to believe that. "Why do you ask me?" Boothill gnarled, but to his surprise, you moved the revolver away. Instead, the barrel was pressed flat against his chest, the muzzle facing his chin. "What are you..?" The male mumbled, twisting his expression at this damned play you organized for him. For you, all this must be a game, a stage you laid out for him, where he was a mindless puppet playing right into your hand.

He thought he couldn't be surprised anymore, yet your actions kept going beyond anything he could ever imagine. You moved the revolver upwards so that the muzzle was touching the underside of his chin. At the same time, the gun was going underneath his short jacket. "Y-you..!" The cyborg couldn't help but blush a little. His face was hot, overheating even compared to the cold weapon you held in your hands. "Do you still want to die? If you beg, I might spar you?" Your tone didn't sound that serious, it was almost said in a joking manner.

“Fork you, never." Boothill snarled again, acting disobedient even though his life was at stake. He had a strong spirit since he was still so cocky after all the things he went through. You wiped off the smile from your face, now staring down at him with a cold-blooded expression, "I'll count down from three then. Three..." Wha- no, this can't be the end, he still has to find Oswaldo. His artificial heart pounded against his chest, causing his mind to fall into chaos. "Two."

You were so cruel, counting down like this without remorse, a fudging monster! Adrenaline was being pumped through his body, or should he rather say every wire he owned? "One-" Without thinking, since he lost that privilege the moment you began counting, he yelled as fast as he could and closed his eyes, "Fudge! Fine! If m'gonna die lemme at least curse at you! You- er, muddlefudging clocksucker!!" Right now, he kind of wished he could cry, just to let out some steam. You couldn't help but giggle, before uttering the word, "Zero." Suddenly, he blanked out.

For a split second, time appeared to have stopped. What followed after was a loud, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the alley. To be expected, it definitely alarmed other people. Then, absolute silence emerged. Not even the faint music from the bar could be heard anymore. "Ah... hu-huh..?" "Oh? Seems like your gun wasn't loaded!" You giggled, you knew this from the start, didn't you? Pants along with a few choked-out whines escaped him. Shivers traveled through him and electricity was being sent to his brain, stimulating the euphoric parts.

A moment later, a slap sound reached his ears, and a sting that felt strangely pleasant originated from his cheek. His face turned to the side, and his cheek throbbed. "uh-urghh..! Ah, wha-what?" Did you just... slap him? Boothill groaned, shaking a little as drool rolled down his chin because his mouth remained open for too long. His spit also defiled the gun, wetting the revolver. Then, the unimaginable happened, and he let out an unrestrained moan, "ahhhHHHNngg..!?" It was high-pitched and whorish, he wore such a confused but slutty expression that it surprised both of you.

Reality crushed down on him too hard, and he couldn't help but gasp and whimper underneath his ragged inhales. "Ugh..ngh- wha-what's this fe-feeling..? W-why.. ha-hmnHg..♡♥︎?" Oh dear, this is not what you think just happened, right? "Boothill, did you just cum?" You said his name after a long while, and he groaned again, "guHhh... s-stop, that's nonsense! How can I e-even.. I-" The boy stumbled over his words, stuttering as a deep blush was painted over his entire face. He was such a twitchy mess now, totally different than his previous self.

“Are you a masochist?” You asked him randomly, it was so out of pocket that it killed the mood. "...are you crazy?" Boothill replied with scorn, his pride was pretty hurt by that statement. As if to test your speculation, you grabbed the back of his hair and yanked on it, making him yelp. "Arghh..! L-let go- fudge!" Then you squeezed his cheeks and stuck out your tongue. He stared at you hesitantly, his own tongue also hanging outside. Mere moments later, your spit was dripping down and landing in his mouth.

That action rendered him speechless, causing him to freeze. Your saliva tasted a little like alcohol. Darn it, this was so disgusting. Once you were done, you let go of the cowboy again, before teasing him, "I was right, you are a masochistic dog~" You knew because of his flushed cheeks, they became redder at your lewd antics. "Are you satisfied now? The fork do you want from me?!" Boothill scoffed, he could only bear this much until his breaking point. "What do I want?" You repeated his sentence, and put a finger on your chin as if you were thinking hard about something.

In the meantime, boothill impatiently waited, he desperately wanted to know your intentions, to see if it justified your actions. When you moved your finger away, you grinned before responding, "I think the answer is you." "...huh?" The cyborg was stunned, staring up at you with spirals in his pupils as you suddenly embraced him. "You heard me, boothill." Your voice and your hug were so warm, he didn't know you could be this gentle.

No, this was no good, it was troubling, to say the least. "Y/n? You- shirt, what do you mean?" For the first time, you heard your name come out of his mouth. His voice trembled as he voiced out your name, the way he said it had a nice ring to it. Then he glared at you once again, but this time he looked like a small animal, eyes glistening while a heavy blush formed on his face. Wait, why was he even blushing? Maybe, because he was wanted for the first time after centuries?

"I hate you." He said after returning to his senses, he got caught up in his emotions there for a moment. These little bits of comfort aren't enough to make up for the mess you caused, and he didn't feel the same. On the other hand, you couldn't stop smirking, and he knew by the looks of it that it wasn't an innocent smile by length. "Let's get out of here, I'll help you move." You then told him and helped him get up, pulling him by his arms.

This was immediately met with angry protests from the male, "Don't touch me- hey, ugh! Where the fudge are you taking me?" The second he let his guard down, you stuffed your gloves into his mouth to muffle his voice, "hMHh?! MmhhGFFF!!!" After that, to satisfy his curiosity, you whispered quietly, "To a place where I can have you."

.

.

"Finally, the guards are here." One of the guests said, to which another one answered, "Thank god because no one dared to go see what was going on." Maybe people we in disarray due to the mysterious sound they all heard. It was probably a gunshot, which means, someone might have died. Yet no one dared to go into the alley, out of fear that they might be the next victim. After the guards arrived, a rather large group of people followed them and ran over to the scene.

They all wanted to know what that gunshot was, standing on the sidelines and observing the investigation. 'What the hell happened here?!' Everyone wondered, eyes searching around for evidence. The only hints they found were two glasses standing on the staircase with some credits, as well as a pool of what seems to be malt juice lying on the ground along with a single golden bullet in the midst of it.

The guard in charge of this operation reached out for the bullet and said, "...someone must have been shot." Then he eyed the bullet up and down, in hopes of finding more clues. That's when he noticed a weird detail, "Why are there holes in the bullet?"

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Based on my findings, concentrated sulfuric acid can melt many metals, like aluminium, iron and steel. (Boothill isn’t safe hehe) It’s enough if it’s moderately concentrated, so it’s alright if a bit of water mixes into it as well. It also reacts to brass - the copper aspect of it, I dunno if it reacts to zink as well. Some sources say yes, some denied it.

Anyway, the Formular for the melting process or chemical reaction would be: Cu + h2So4 -> CuSo4 + h2 or Fe + h2So4 -> FeSo4 h2

So it also creates hydrogen gas at the same time, which also melts iron and is poison for the human body. Annnnd copper Sulfid, which is weak and easily breakable, that means it can weaken the brass.

My plan to poison him: his favourite drink is malt juice with a 9mm calliber bullet that’s out of brass. And malt juice is out of ca. 25-30% water. So, I was thinking of drilling a hole into the bottom of the bullet and use a needle to shoot concentrated sulfuric acid inside the capsule. Then drop that in the malt juice. Now we just gotta wait for the acid to melt through the bullet, and mix with the water of the alcohol, then it’d become moderately concentrated. Btw sulfuric acid can absorb water from everywhere, even from the air.

Then if he drinks it, bam, his insides will melt. It might take a bit, so we gotta entertain him and stretch out the time. Even if he doesn’t drink it, he eats bullets, so he’ll get the acid inside his body anyway. With that, we successfully ‘poisoned’ him. It takes a bit of fantasy but oh well.

Now, take this hangman’s blood recipe:

- 1¾ parts gin.

- 1¾ parts white rum.

- 1¾ parts whiskey.

- 1¾ parts brandy.

- 7½ parts stout beer.

- 6 parts champagne.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Data from a license plate-scanning tool that is primarily marketed as a surveillance solution for small towns to combat crimes like car jackings or finding missing people is being used by ICE, according to data reviewed by 404 Media. Local police around the country are performing lookups in Flock’s AI-powered automatic license plate reader (ALPR) system for “immigration” related searches and as part of other ICE investigations, giving federal law enforcement side-door access to a tool that it currently does not have a formal contract for. The massive trove of lookup data was obtained by researchers who asked to remain anonymous to avoid potential retaliation and shared with 404 Media. It shows more than 4,000 nation and statewide lookups by local and state police done either at the behest of the federal government or as an “informal” favor to federal law enforcement, or with a potential immigration focus, according to statements from police departments and sheriff offices collected by 404 Media. It shows that, while Flock does not have a contract with ICE, the agency sources data from Flock’s cameras by making requests to local law enforcement. The data reviewed by 404 Media was obtained using a public records request from the Danville, Illinois Police Department, and shows the Flock search logs from police departments around the country. As part of a Flock search, police have to provide a “reason” they are performing the lookup. In the “reason” field for searches of Danville’s cameras, officers from across the U.S. wrote “immigration,” “ICE,” “ICE+ERO,” which is ICE’s Enforcement and Removal Operations, the section that focuses on deportations; “illegal immigration,” “ICE WARRANT,” and other immigration-related reasons. Although lookups mentioning ICE occurred across both the Biden and Trump administrations, all of the lookups that explicitly list “immigration” as their reason were made after Trump was inaugurated, according to the data.

27 May 2025

[reasonsforhope]

"Abby Allen has no problem with her neighbours peering over her luxuriant hedges to see what she is up to on her farm.

For years she has been carrying out ad hoc experiments with wildlife and farming techniques; in her lush Devon fields native cattle graze alongside 400-year-old hedgerows, with birds and butterflies enjoying the species-rich pasture.

Under the environmental land management scheme (ELMS), introduced by the government in 2021, those experiments were finally being funded. “We have a neighbour who has always been more of an intensive farmer,” she says, but he is now considering leaving fields unploughed to help the soil. “It genuinely is having such a huge impact in changing people’s mindsets who traditionally would never have thought about farming in this way.”

The new nature payments scheme followed the UK’s exit from the EU, when the government decided to scrap the common agricultural payments scheme, which gave a flat subsidy dependent on the number of acres a farmer managed. In its place came ELMS, which pays farmers for things such as planting hedges, sowing wildflowers for birds to feed on and leaving corners of their land wild for nature.

But these schemes are now at threat of defunding, as the Labour government has refused to commit to the £2.4bn a year spending pot put in place by the previous Conservative government. With spending tight and the chancellor, Rachel Reeves, cutting back on infrastructure and hinting at tax rises, a cut to the ELMS scheme may be on her list.

However, government data released last week found the schemes were working to tentatively bring nature back to England’s farmland. Butterflies, bees and bats are among the wildlife being boosted by ELMS, with birds among the chief beneficiaries, particularly ones that largely feed on invertebrates. An average of 25% more breeding birds were found in areas utilising the eco-friendly schemes.

...there are also farmers who welcome the schemes. Allen says the ELMS has helped her farm provide data and funds to expand and improve the good things they were doing for nature. “Some of the money available around things like soil testing and monitoring – instead of us going ‘we think these are the right things to do and providing these benefits,’ we can now measure it. The exciting thing now is there is money available to measure and monitor and kind of prove that you’re doing the right things. And so then you can find appropriate funding to do more of that.”

Allen, who is in the Nature Friendly Farming Network, manages a network of farms in England, most of which are using the ELMS. This includes chicken farms where the poultry spend their life outside rather than in sheds and other regenerative livestock businesses...

Mark Spencer was an environment minister until 2024 when he lost his seat, but now spends more time in the fields admiring the fruits of his and his family’s labour. He says that a few years of nature-friendly agriculture has restored lapwings and owls.

“On the farm, I haven’t seen lapwings in any number for what feels like a whole generation. You know, as a kid, when I was in my early teens, you’d see lapwings. We used to call them peewits. We’d see them all the time, and they sort of disappeared.

“But then, me and my neighbours changed the way we did cropping, left space in the fields for them to nest, and suddenly they returned. You need to have a piece of land where you’re not having mechanical machinery go over it on a regular basis, because otherwise you destroy the nest. We’ve also got baby owls in our owl box now for the first time in 15 years. They look mega, to be honest, these little owls, little balls of fluff. It is rewarding.”"

-via The Guardian, August 23, 2024

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do you have any hcs that you would like to share? Regarding the humans and bots, I'd love to hear them :3

Cybertronians, especially Autobots, love to talk in frequencies that the human ear cannot pick up in order to convey data information quietly. They forget that if they aren't careful, their mouths tend to move and give them away.

Many Autobots secretly judge their human allies based on how well they treat their cars. For them, its the same as making an initial assessment of someone based on their clothes. The humans still do not know this.

Decepticons have and will continue to enjoy human dramas specifically because they like watching someone else suffer through petty nonsense on their behalf.

Many Autobots have attempted the equivalent of spelling words out in front of children via their unique sign language. This worked brilliantly for the first six months on Earth, but various humans have picked it up and now perk up like eager dogs ready for a walk whenever the glyph for 'patrol' is signed near them.

Almost every living Cybertronian chooses to present as the dominant gender/social role on whatever world they end up on. This initially led to some humorous interactions with humans when every bot referred to humanity as if they were all male.

Many Decepticons, out of sheer bitterness, refuse to do the above listed adaptation and will purposefully use the all in one designation Cybertronians use when referring to each other.

Humans eternally fail to pronounce many Cybertronian names and no one really has the spark to correct them anymore. Poor Hot Rod has never lived it down. He swears up and down that his name is cooler, but humanity does not believe him in the slightest.

Cybertronians, at least the more scientific ones, find human eyes fascinating.

Human children have a tendency to be drawn toward larger bots due to their EM fields. Children are more in-tune to them, and thus are more drawn to bigger Cybertronians.

Adult humans are, contrast, more prone to gravitate toward smaller bots due to it being easier to recognize a face amidst the mass.

More than one young Cybertronian has attempted to keep a human pet. It has only ended well once.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Hold On You 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, bullying, depression, controlling and abusive behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to look on the bright side of life but a man comes along to blot out the sun.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your eyes narrow as you hunch over the folding TV table. You work at tamping the felt in just the right shape. The headless body, made of metal wire encased in more felt sits on the corner, awaiting its final touch. Your vision is cloudy at the edges. You let yourself have a cry last night at the cost of puffy eyes today. Those grey moods exhaust you.

You sigh as you blend the grey black and white. The small raccoon will be the first of many. At least twelve for stock. 

A hobby and some extra income. You need it since they cut your hours to part-time. All the data entry firms are. You read on a forum that AI is slowly depleting the field. You don't relish going back to customer service... you're not very good at it. You can hardly make yourself smile at your reflection.

You sniff. You look up at the corner shelf, stuffed with similar figures to the one in pieces before you. Squirrels, bunnies, lots of cats. Those are a best-seller.

You put the head and needle down. You can't focus. Usually, the work puts a pause on the gloom. The grey sky outside your windows doesn't help. You sit back and press your hand around your forehead. You knead your temples with your thumbs.

It's too quiet. Well, not exactly. You can hear Katy yelling at her teens and Mr. Burton is hammering on the wall again. He needs to just call the building for whatever he keeps trying to fix. Or maybe he's breaking it?

You get up and go to the record player. You lay on the one album you've yet to listen to. That new poppy hit. It's probably a few years too young for you. You're in the limbo between twenty-five and thirty. A murky no man's land where all your friends are newly married, freshly pregnant, or celebrating promotions. You're doing neither of those.

You let the record spin the intro and retreat to the sagging armchair. The seat is molded to your shape but not comfy. You lean on the high armrest and close your eyes.

Oh, I leave quite an impression Five feet to be exact You're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin' My body's where they're at

You chew your cheek as you follow the lyrics as best you can. Scandalizing, scintillating, sexy. Not you. Maybe that was a bad choice. This is music for the young girls with their long lashes and coy glossy smiles. That was never you.

Affairs, flings, hookups, whatever the young ones say...situationships? You're not the type. You're not good for it. Too sad. Too quiet. You overheard the giggly whispering. It's your own fault you don't see your friends. Or that they aren't your friends anymore. 

Knowing what they really think of you... you're not good at pretending like that. You can smile, you can chirp, you can run a script with stranger, but they were supposed to actually like you.

Choices can be liberating but they can also be oppressive. Cut the cord and you're free falling into the void. You sit up as the next song starts.

I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes But just don't

You wish you had that confidence. You get up and turn down the volume so you can hear the melody but the lyrics are obscured. You shuffle over to the couch and flop onto it. You're tired. Another night wasted.

🧡

Punk Rock Market. You've never been to one. Never heard of one. The flyer was mixed in with your mail. Bills, adds, some religious pamphlet. It was the only thing that piqued your interest. You keep it on your fridge until the date of. 

You clutch it in your sweaty hand. It wrinkles as you keep checking the address. It's at an intersection. Hmmm. Okay. You think you know the one.

It's a few blocks further than you thought. You follow the swell of pedestrians into the browning green square. The grass is flattened from the traffic. Second thoughts slow your steps but the tides of patrons keep you moving.

You stop to look at jade and quartz medallions. Hand-made as the signs proclaim. The women behind the stall table have thickly-winged liner and lots of piercings. Their hair is shades of burnt-out bleach blond and pastels. One asks if you're looking for something in particular.

"Just look, I guess," you answer with a shrug. You bend to examine a cuff with opal. "Very pretty."

They don't hear you as they're already more interested in a customer who looks more like them. You move on. It's not unusual. Those who notice you, don't for long. Or if they do, it's never a good thing.

You stop to admire some hand-sewn dolls with twists of cotton for hair. You sell most of your things online, or a few places let you buy half a shelf for display, though they don't sell many. Something like this might be a good idea but you saw the prices for the other markets... you don't have that sort of overhead.

You're edged out of the stall by a group of platformed-booted shoppers. You back away and collide with a stroller. You spin and apologise, a glower from the mother and her husband as you do. You're trapped between them and the distracted group behind you.

Your heart picks up. You should've expected crowds but this is a bit much. You look around. You'll only hit the stroller again or someone else. You search until you see your only hope of escape. Between the stalls, right past the empty crates and thick electrical wires.

You flee, keeping your head down in case one of the sellers thinks to stop you. Your pulse tempos behind your eardrums. You curl around the back of the stalls and race toward the park entrance. You're going to call it another fail.

You slip out between a stall and the post of the banner for the market event. You're nearly taken off your feet as someone entering hits you with their arm. A rather thick arm that has you reeling and rubbing your side. You back up as the figure stops with a gruff growl.

It can't be. You're sure you recognise them. It's almost impossible to run into the same face twice in the city. Yet, your luck has always been grimly ironic.

As the deja vu clicks. You gulp. It's the man from the record store. You pout.

"Sorry, I..."

"What're you creeping around for?" He snarls.

"I... I was leaving--"

"Why were you back there?" He asks.

"Huh, oh, I got lost--"

"Dude, chill," his buddy peeks past him. "Place is packed."

The man's fist opens and closes, drawing your attention as his jaw grits. "I could get... through." You eke out.

"You," he raises his gloved hand and points in your face. "Girly pop."

You blink. Oh no. He remembers you.

"I..." you shrug. "Sorry, excuse me," you try to slip by and he catches your arm. 

"You didn't answer me. What were you up to?" He drags you back as others grumble behind you, pushing to get into the park.

"Yo, she told you," his friend jabs. "Chill, Buck. Let's get going."

He narrows his eyes as his forehead lines. He squeezes until you feel your blood struggling to course past the tension. He lets you go with a subtle shove.

"Whatever," he turns back to his pal. "Let's go find that oil or whatever you were going on about."

He stalks by and you turn to watch him. He's not a very happy person but neither are you. You turn and flee before he can have second thoughts. Strange how his friend seemed familiar too.

You head down the street and reach for your phone. Maybe you'll find something else. Going back to your apartment just means giving in to the grey. It's a sunny day, you want to enjoy it.

There's a cafe near here. They boast of nitro brew and protein coffee. You're not sure of either but they must have tea.

You get lost a block down and have to back track. You can be so clueless. You finally find the front door, though it is easy to miss. Black windows, black glass, like some sort of secret meetup.

You enter and join the line. It's not much less crowded than the park. You wait patiently for your turn and order the 'booster' tea.

You shove your hand deep into your satchel. You fish around frantically. Your wallet? Where is it? You blink helplessly at the employee behind the counter and apologise.

You run out and look up and down the street. Your wallet is gone. You feel around your pockets and all over. You retrace your steps, along your detour and back to the market. You gape into the sea of people. There's no way you'll find it!

What can you do? Cancel your card and figure out how to replace your IDs... figures. Nothing nice ever happens. Every idea you have is just a mistake. Go home. Stop trying.

🧡

The New York skyline looms darkly through the windows. The moonless night invades your apartment, the single lamp doing little to light the space. You sit in its glow, shoulders wracked, neck bent, tediously poking the pattern into the felt. The leopard was an optimistic choice in subject.

The record player turns. Etta croons richly as the clock ticks on. It's midnight, probably later. You haven't checked in some time. You can't sleep but you also can't bare to lay and stare at the ceiling.

Your tendons strain with your efforts. Everything is so precise. Your fingers feel as if they might lock into place. Your head is throbbing.

The record plays through Side B and the player clicks. You don't get up to stop it for some time. Your hands shake as you put the needle back and hit the power button.

You push your head back and stretch out the kinks. Your stomach clutches with hunger. Dinner is in the fridge still. You didn't bother reheating the pasta.

You close your eyes as you rub your cheeks. You yawn then drop your arms. You look around the empty box you live in.

You flinch. The windows are so dark, obscured with the reflection of the lamp, yet you swear you can see something. You shake your head. You're imagining it.

You got back to the table and gather up the felt and unfinished project. You have a few new orders. You need to go get some packing stuff to send them out. You tuck it away in the shoe box and slide it onto the cube shelf beneath the record player.

Tap, tap.

You raise your head and look over your shoulder. Something must have bounced off the window yet there's no wind, no rain. The weather is painfully still.

You ignore it and stand. You go back to the table to shut off the lamp.

Tap. Just one but louder. You keep your fingers on the switch attached to the wire but don't flick it. You glance over.

Slap. Something presses to the pane. You can't tell what it is. Small, rectangle. You near as your adrenaline flows and your heartbeat thrums. Something tells you to go back but it's impossible that anyone could be there. There's no fire escape, no balcony. The building is short a few codes.

You stop at the window as your face stares back. The small image on your ID where you don't smile, just stare. DOB, height, number...

Another face appears behind the small card. A scream blooms in your chest but can't escape as the man stares back at you. He taps again. How on earth did he get out there? That man. That one from the record shop and the market. The one you seem to plague more than your own sanity.

He tilts his head and mouths. 'Let me in.'

[mariacallous]

For much of living memory, the United States has been a global leader of scientific research and innovation. From the polio vaccine, to decoding the first human chromosome, to the first heart bypass surgery, American research has originated a seemingly endless list of health care advances that are taken for granted.

But when the Trump administration issued a memorandum Monday that paused all federal grants and loans—with the aim of ensuring that funding recipients are complying with the president’s raft of recent executive orders—US academia ground to a halt. Since then, the freeze has been partially rescinded for some sectors, but it largely remains in place for universities and research institutions across the country, with no certainty of what comes next.

“This has immediate impact on people’s lives,” says J9 Austin, professor of psychiatry and medical genetics at the University of British Columbia. “And it’s terrifying.”

The funding freeze requires agencies to submit reviews of their funded programs to the Office of Management and Budget by February 10. The freeze follows separate orders issued last week to US health agencies—including to the National Institutes of Health, which leads the country’s medical research—to pause all communications until February 1 and stop almost all travel indefinitely.

The confusion is consummate. If the funding freeze continues through February, and even beyond, how will graduate students be paid? Should grant applications—years long in the writing—still be submitted by the triannual grant submission deadline on February 5? What does this mean for clinical trials if participants and lab techs can’t be paid? Will all that research have to be scrapped thanks to incomplete data?

Even if Trump fully reverses the freeze on research funding, the damage, multiple sources say, has been done. Although for now the funding freeze is temporary, the administration has shown how it might wield the levers of government. The implication is that withdrawing funding could be done more permanently, and could be done to individual institutions, individual organizations, both private and public. This won’t just set a precedent for the large East Coast or West Coast universities, but those located in both red and blue states alike.

While always an imperfect arrangement, science in the US is largely funded by a complex system of grant applications, reviews by peers in the field (both of which have had to be halted as part of the communications pause), and the competitive distribution of NIH funds, says Gerald Keusch, emeritus professor of medicine at Boston University and former associate director of international research for the NIH. According to its website, the NIH disburses nearly $48 billion in grants per year.

When it comes to medical research, America truly is first, and if it abdicates that position, the void left behind has global ramifications. “In Canada, we have always looked to NIH as an exemplar of what we should be trying to do,” says Austin, speaking to me independently of any roles and affiliations. “Now, that’s collapsed.”

Science is, in its very nature, collaborative. Many consortiums and alliances within scientific fields cross borders and language barriers. Some labs may be able to find additional funding from alternative sources such as the European Union. But it is unlikely that a continued withdrawal of NIH funding could be plugged by overseas support. And Big Pharma, with its seemingly endless funds, is unlikely to step up either, according to sources WIRED spoke with.

“This can’t be handed off to drug companies or biotech, because they’re not interested in things that are as preclinical as a lot of the work we’re discussing here,” says a professor of genetics who agreed to speak anonymously out of fear of retribution. “Essentially, there’s a whole legion of university-based scientists who work super damn hard to try to figure out some basic stuff that eventually becomes something that a drug company can drop $100 million on.”

The millions of dollars awarded to high-achieving labs is used to fund graduate students, lab techs, and analysts. If the principal investigator on a research team is unsuccessful in obtaining a grant through the process Keusch describes, often that lab is closed, and those ancillary team members lose their jobs.

One of the potential downstream effects of an NIH funding loss, even if only temporary, is a mass domestic brain drain. “Many of those people are going to go out to find something else to do,” the professor of genetics says. “These are just like jobs for anything else—we can’t not pay people for a month. What would the food service industry be like, for example, or grocery stores, if they don’t pay somebody for a month? Their workers will leave, and pharma can only hire so many people.”

WIRED heard over and over, from scientists too fearful for their teams and their jobs to speak on the record, that it won’t take long for the impact to reach the general population. With a loss of research funding comes the closure of hospitals and universities. And gains in medical advancement will likely falter too.

Conditions being studied with NIH funding are not only rare diseases affecting 1 or 2 percent of the population. They’re problems such as cancer, diabetes, Alzheimer’s—issues that affect your grandmother, your friends, and so many people who will one day fall out of perfect health. It’s thanks to this research system, and the scientists working within it, that doctors know how to save someone from a heart attack, regulate diabetes, lower cholesterol, and reduce the risk of stroke. It’s how the world knows that smoking isn’t a good idea. “All of that is knowledge that scientists funded by the NIH have generated, and if you throw this big of a wrench in it, it’s going to disrupt absolutely everything,” says the genetics professor.

While some are hopeful that the funding freeze for academia could end on February 1, when the pause on communications and therefore grant reviews is slated to lift, the individuals WIRED spoke with are largely skeptical that work will simply resume as before.

“When the wheels of government stop, it’s not like they turn on a dime and they just start up again,” says Julie Scofield, a former executive director of NASTAD, a US-based health nonprofit. She adds that she has colleagues in Washington, DC, who have had funding returned to their fields, and yet remain unable to access payment through the management system.

Austin says that already the international scientific community is holding hastily arranged online support groups. Topics covered range from the banal—what the most recent communication from the White House implies—to how best to protect trainees and the many students on international visas. But mostly they’re there to provide support.

“I’ve had a lot of messages from people just expressing gratitude that we could actually get together,” Austin says. “There’s just so much unaddressable need. None of us has the answers.”

Scientists, perhaps more than any other profession, are trained to “learn and validate conclusions drawn from observation and experimentation,” says Keutsch. That applies to the current situation. And what they observe during this pause of chaos does not portend well for the future of the United States as a pinnacle of scientific excellence.

“If people want the United States to head toward being a second-class nation, this is exactly what to do. If the goal is, in fact, to make America great, this is not a way to do it,” says the genetics professor. “This is not a rational, thoughtful, effective thing to do. It will merely destroy.”

This story has been written under a pseudonym, as the reporter has specific and credible concerns about potential retaliation.

[sidrashakti]

Gemini Punarvasu: Mother Business or The Personal Brand 

My slogan for Punarvasu nakshatra is Big Business, Big Families because this is a nakshatra of (often extreme) abundance and expansiveness because of its ruling deity Aditi. She is the personification of the sprawling infinite and vast cosmos. She is the goddess of motherhood, consciousness, unconsciousness, the past, the future, and fertility. 

I have found that Gemini Punarvasu natives tend to dominate in their respective fields often not through the strict achievements or metrics (Capricorn) but through more personal (Cancer) means. They embody the concept of the Personal Brand. 

Identifiers: 

1) Tend to connect with their audiences personally rather than through extreme skill 

2) Tend to have mostly female fanbases

3) Can take on the role of Mother by nurturing or comforting or becoming omnipresent in the cultural landscape

4) Use setbacks to their advantage (ie: Reputation by Taylor Swift) 

5) Hypercreative, constantly churning out content, usually praised for their work ethic

6) Innovate through intuition, they’ve almost always innovated in some way 

7) Big family or strong connection to family in some way 

The success of these natives may bother people who believe in systems of strict qualifications: 

Amy Coney Barrett is a Gem Punarvasu Moon and caused widespread outcry when she was nominated to the Supreme Court by Donald Trump based on her beliefs, making her the only current Justice who had not attended Harvard or Yale. She has seven children and known for pushing right-wing “family values.”

Kris Jenner, a Punarvasu Moon AK in 10th House (which means she embodies this placement and does so extremely publicly for work), has launched her big family into limelight despite the frequent criticism that they don’t have any actual talents. Kris literally coined the term “momager” and created a billion dollar empire by creating a new mode of celebrity that was the opposite of the previous impersonal, distanced celeb. Like a mother, the Kardashians are omnipresent, transparent or emotionally available to their audiences, and intuit the desires of their fanbases. Kris specifically is known for her deep connections with everyone in Hollywood that are not always public and being a “secret-keeper” or always in the know, a deeply maternal role. 

Kim Kardashian has Gem Punarvasu Mercury and Jupiter tightly conjunct at the same degree in her D10 house of the career and public and is the first person to become famous for being famous. Mercury here rules technology such as social media, which is Kim’s platform. 

Ironically, perhaps the biggest personal brand ever is Taylor Swift, who has Punarvasu Moon in her D3 at the same degree as Kris Jenner’s, which is so interesting given her decade long feud with the family. Taylor has faced the same criticism as the Kardashians: reaching extreme fame not based on her vocal or performance talent but based on her connections and relatability in her music (in comparison to celebrities like Beyonce). Her music “raised” generations and is omnipresent well into her career. Punarvasu is the star of renewal and these figures often come back stronger from trials and tribulations. Taylor became the biggest popstar in the world after a period where she thought her career was over and the public hated her. Her family also extremely involved in her career.

These natives rely on their intuitions to innovate rather than hard science or rules. Steve Jobs had Jupiter in Gem Punarvasu (and Uranus in the Cancer portion) and was known for frequently stating that he valued intuition over logic and data, believing it to be a powerful tool for innovation. He often said that his intuition was a "whisper of the soul" that guided him, despite the reputation given to him by media of being a technician. Jobs's approach to product development often involved trusting his gut feeling about what customers would want, rather than relying on focus groups or market research. The Iphone became omnipresent in the West, owned by most people. He was a father of four children.

These natives are often hypercreative and workaholics, constantly producing and creating due to to abundant nature of Aditi. As a result they often have long and unique careers, becoming known for multiple things depending on other placements in their charts.

Sexuality

Sarah Weddington

This placement is particularly interesting on the Rahu/Ketu axis because it embodies the struggle for the liberation of the feminine on a public stage and these natives are very glamorous. Marilyn Monroe, perhaps the most famous woman ever, had this placement and her life embodied the struggles of the dark feminine publicly. Sarah Weddington was the lawyer who litigated and won the Roe v. Wade case as a fresh law school graduate after struggling to find employment because of a preference for male lawyers. This case gave generations of women the freedom of choice.

Working list of natives: 

ASC 

Sade Adu 

Caroline Herrera

Moon

Kris Jenner (Punarvasu Moon AK in 10th House

Taylor Swift (Moon D3) 

Amy Coney Barrett 

Mercury

Lana Del Rey (Mercury in Punarvasu in her natal chart & Lilith in Punarvasu in D10) 

Jupiter 

Steve Jobs (Jupiter in Gem Punarvasu (and Uranus in the Cancer portion) 

Mars 

Jalen Hurts

Ketu

Dita Von Teese 

Hasan Piker (Ketu in 6H) 

Rahu

Marilyn Monroe 

Sarah Weddington

[sergeifyodorov]

Hi!

This is maybe a bit left of field, but I love your blog and you seem very knowledgeable so maybe you (or one of your followers?) have an idea.

Can you recommend some reading material on sports in general? It can absolutely be hockey related but I’m talking sort of bigger scope. More specifically, how (team) sports relate to society as a whole, what role it plays for humanity, maybe it’s history? What about the fan culture?

For context, I come from a pretty academic family where growing up there was this all encompassing prejudice of “it’s for stupid people” (which is clearly stupid in itself). I guess I’m trying to break the mold, but all of it is culturally very new to me.

It can be books, articles, essays, anything.

I realise I sound like a nerd, but. Maybe?

I love this q!!! I'm going to list some of my favourites, but I also haven't read everything (or even most things) so I'll leave it open to the floor to add to. If you have recs for this anon, please reblog with additions!

Moneyball by Michael Lewis and its semi-not-really sequel Big Data Baseball by Travis Sawchik are about the analytics revolutions in baseball - Moneyball about the original one that sparked from amateur mathematician Bill James' writings, and Big Data about the inception of the Statcast era about fifteen years later.

The Game by Ken Dryden is a biography by one of the greatest goalies and minds ever to play the sport. I would recommend almost anything written by Dryden, but this is really his masterwork.

17776 is a work of fiction written by Jon Bois, but I feel like it fits within the scope of your question anyway - thematically it seeks to ask and answer why we play sports and what they mean to us. It's also written and presented online for free and you can just google it, so you don't have to hunt through your libraries or buy a copy!

The Game of Our Lives by Peter Gzowski is a rarer one, especially if you're not Canadian, but I have a personal connection so I'll always recommend it anyway. It's written about Wayne Gretzky during his initial NHL season, and examines the way we think of greatness, what makes hockey players great (on a technical as well as social level), and the ideal of a Great Hockey Player as it relates to Canadian national identity.

Along that thread, I'll finally recommend the works of sociologist Kristi Allain, who's written multiple papers on the construction of Canadian identity both within hockey and within media discussing it, and the socialization and experiences of Canadian and non-Canadian hockey players.

[yuamusuzuran]

The Dragon & the Foreseer who loved him - Pt.9

Pairing: Sylus x Zayne/ SnowCrow

Chp word count: 2710

MINORS DNI/ EXPLICIT AND MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!

Chapter tags: reincarnation, no powers of Evol, Sylus is still a mafia boss, Zayne is still a doctor, MC makes her debut, MC is sapphic, personal name usage for MC, injury, yearning, Zayne & Sylus POVs

Previous chapters: CHP1, CHP2, CHP3, CHP4, CHP5, CHP6, CHP7, CHP8

If you wish to become a part of the tag list, refer here!

Click HERE to read on AO3!

ENJOY!

Chapter 9 - No one?

Linkon City, 2055

N109 Zone…

“Boss-man, all preparations for tonight’s meeting have been completed” the man clad in mostly black clothes and with a beaked mask on said in a serious tone, his business persona so different compared to his usual mischievous one.

Sylus hummed in response, never once raising his gaze from the floating monitor in front of him.

“Have any of the interested parties made any moves yet?” he asked nonchalantly, continuing to inspect the list of items from tonight’s oncoming auction.

“No moves at all” the other man dressed in the same fashion as the one who spoke first suddenly appeared behind Sylus, his tone a bit more playful compared to his twin, “Which doesn’t mean tonight’s event won’t end in an explosive finale”

“Glad you’ve finally learned” Sylus chuckled, his finger sliding across the screen once more.

There were many valuable items that will be presented at the auction, from unique and expensive jewelry, antique paintings, newly modified gadgets, weapons all the way to modified protocores meant to be used on high-tech electronic devices and in robotics field.

Satisfied with the quality of the stock, Sylus closed the window and whistled, shortly but sharply.

In an instant, the cawing could be heard from the open window of the high rise, a crow dawning two mechanical wings landing on Sylus’ broad shoulders.

Tapping on his watch, the animal’s eyes glowed bright red, all the data it had collected in its patrol in N109 zone very soon being transferred to Sylus’ watch.

Watching at the footage with a frown, the leader of Onychinus couldn’t help but feel this deep pit in his stomach. Something he had felt many times before… specifically, before he died in whichever life he was living.

“Be prepared to act at the moment’s notice” he eventually said, giving a knowing look to both Luke and Kieran, “When N109 zone is this quiet before a big event, it usually doesn’t end good”

“Yes, boss-man!” the twins said in unison only for Kieran to remind: “Please don’t forget to bring your weapons today, sir. We know you like to spar with your impromptu enemies, but today is-”

Sylus had just directed a sharp look towards him, instantly making Kieran silent.

“You know I don’t play with important matters” he mumbled, the crow on his shoulder cawing in a sign of warning, “But, you two will have a special mission tonight?”

“Yes, boss-man! Whatever it is!” the twins once again said in unison, making Sylus chuckle once he had turned away from them.

Leaning in his chair, the silver-haired man purred “Make sure kitten is well taken care of. This event wouldn’t be possible without her, and with her connections, she’d be a very sought after, especially by… certain people”

“Yes, boss-man!” the twins repeated for the third time, Sylus only waving for them to leave.

“Was someone mentioning me?”

A female voice coming from the door made the whole office lose its tense atmosphere, all three men instantly relaxing upon finally noticing a familiar figure.

“You’re getting better at sneaking around, kitten” Sylus said with a voice full of amusement, a sly smile immediately adorning his lips.

The woman at the door smiled before entering the office, “I’ve learn from the best in the sneaking game. But, what were you saying about me?”

“Oh, nothing” Sylus reassured, leaning even more in his chair, “I was just making sure your bodyguards for tonight were ready to defend you at any given moment”

The dark-haired woman tilted her head, her expression growing serious “Shouldn’t they be more concerned about protecting you?”

“I can fend for myself” Sylus reminded as his hand slid under the hem of an elegant jacket that hung from his wide shoulders, an unmistakable click of the gun’s safety lever making everyone in the room tense up.

The woman didn’t look amused in the slightest, her step becoming wider as she approached Sylus’ table.

“Focus on your safety and don’t try to show off like you sometimes do. Tonight has a potential to cause a lot of chaos in this already derailed zone” she scolded, Sylus’ smile widening even more.

“Glad we’re on the same page” Sylus purred again before directing his eyes at the twins, noticing their gawking and fidgeting behind him.

Luke and Kieran had immediately gotten a hint, leaving the two alone to check on the final details of tonight’s auction.

Once alone, the woman sighed, leaning against the table

“You should really stop calling me that while I’m at work” she scolded, Sylus tilting his head.

“You’re afraid little Tara will hear me?” he teased, crossing his legs.

“That too” the woman chuckled, “But it’s also unprofessional. I’m your personal assistant; we don’t want some outsider to think I mean something to you-”

“But you do mean something to me, Livia” Sylus mumbled, completely serious, “You are irreplaceable to me, someone I wish to protect… and same goes for your little girlfriend…. Although, you are my favorite”

Livia chuckled, amusement clear in her voice, “Again, don’t let her hear you... but you know what I mean-”

“I do, yes” Sylus confirmed, leaning forward in his chair, “And don’t worry, I know how to pretend. You will never become my leverage”

Satisfied with the answer, dark-haired woman nodded, her eyes lowering to look at her watch, “Now that this conversation is over, I have some news”

Sylus’ heart skipped for a moment, his attention completely shifting towards the notes displayed on the small screen, “What do you have for me?”

Only a moment later, all Sylus’ hopes would be crushed, again.

Livia just had to frown and shake her head in an apologetic manner.

“I’ve looked through all of the data Linkon City and N109 Zone had on their residents… and I haven’t found a single person who matches the description you gave me”

Sylus’ jaw clenched, “No one?”

“No one” Livia confirmed, “Tall male of muscular physique, black hair, striking green eyes, in his early twenties, conventionally attractive… and even with the sketch you have provided, I couldn’t find anyone who matched”

Sylus took a couple of moments to collect his thoughts, the sensation just as soul-crushing as the first time he wasn’t able to find his beloved on time…

“Alright, then…” he tried to sound nonchalant, but Livia wasn’t an idiot.

“I’m really sorry” she mumbled, reaching out to take his hand and squeeze it, “Maybe, I could start looking further out? In neighboring cities? Other countries-”

“No need, Liv” Sylus mumbled, squeezing her hand back, “I don’t think you’ll find him in time…”

“Don’t say that!” she scolded him, her voice almost breaking, “I’ll get to work right now! I’ll try!”

Sylus could only chuckle at her promise, but deep in his soul he knew her good will wouldn’t be enough, not even this time around.

Sylus has been through this countless times already.

From the time when he still had all his memories intact, the remnants of his powers still serving in his desperate search.

And yet, as the centuries went on, and his life repeated itself over and over again, his effort became all but futile.

His dragon powers have disappeared long time ago, leaving him in the useless husk of a mortal and fragile human body that could only live less than one century… but, he was never that lucky.

He still remembered every little detail of his beloved’s face; how his features changed when he smiled, when he felt pleasure, when he was in pain… everything was still so vivid in his mind.

But not even his memory could escape erosion of so many centuries….

He had completely forgotten his beloved’s voice, the way his own name sounded when crossing those beautiful lips… and of all things, Sylus had forgotten his name…

And Livia had known all of this, from the very first day they have met.

She had a very special ability to see the past lives of others just by one touch, a fact that had scared Sylus the first time they have met.

He was rough when dealing with her initially, anger consuming him upon the realization that the sacred memory of his beloved Foreseer was seen by someone else other than him.

But… Livia was patient, calm, spiteful but also, very understanding.

She understood his pain and had truly done everything in her power to help him, especially in these last few months.

And yet, even her valiant efforts didn’t bear any fruit…

Sylus could feel his heart clenching in his chest, the morose feeling in the pit of his stomach foretelling what was about to go down that very evening…

He was about to die once again, only this time, without any luck in finding his beloved Foreseer.

“We should go get ready” he finally said, raising from his chair, “Pick whichever dress or suit you’d like. They have all been paid for”

With that, Sylus headed towards the exit of his office, his throat squeezing as he tried to swallow.

“Sylus!” Livia suddenly called out for him, making him stop.

A brief moment of silence arose between them, the woman’s expression still so stubbornly determined: “Be very careful tonight… and I promise, I’ll find your Foreseer…”

Sylus chuckled, leaving the office without another word…

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Zayne had moved his head from left to right, the stiffness that had settled in becoming more uncomfortable as the time went on.

It has only been a couple of days since he had returned to the Linkon City, but he was already buried in work, Akso Hospital almost becoming his primary home for the time-being.

He had worked in many hospitals around the world, and despite being a prodigy in his field and the youngest doctor to ever win a Starsnatcher Award for his research on heart regeneration.

But, once he had returned to his hometown, he knew his job would become more difficult, primarily because he was a returning doctor into a system that needed a lot of improvements.

He was still working as a heart surgeon primarily, but on nights such as this one, he had to be on-call for the Emergency room as well. It was a festival season in Linkon City, a time when many people get injured or feel sick due to various reasons, mostly due to alcohol consumption.

But it was something that had to be done, especially if he wanted for Akso Hospital to return its former reputation.

Zayne rubbed his eyes, glasses feeling rather uncomfortable on the bridge of his nose.

There were still so many notes he had to finish, preparing for tomorrow’s morning council where his weekly surgery schedule would be determined. There was no way he’ll head home any time soon…

With a deep sigh, Zayne had prepared to get back to work, only for his eyes to fall on the phone that was resting at the far end of the table.

He hasn’t really spoken to anyone of his old friends since he had returned, only his parents aware of his sudden return. He simply had no time to meet up with anyone with his hectic schedule… but there was one person he really wanted to hear from.

Deciding to take a short break, Zayne picked up his phone and unlocked it, going into messages and clicking on the caller ID his mother had forwarded to him a day earlier.

Slightly reluctant and aware that it was probably somewhat late, Zayne’s finger hovered over the call button… but he still decided to press it.

He hasn’t heard from his childhood friend in more than ten years, the ringing on the other line causing his heart to pound as if he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

How will she react? Will she be angry with him for not contacting her sooner? They have lost contact after a year or two of being separated, it was no one’s fault-

“Hello?” the deeper feminine voice picked up, Zayne recognizing her immediately.

“Livia?” he asked, trying to sound calm, “We haven’t spoken in a long time…”

A pause ensued on the other line, “…Who’s this? You sound familiar…”

The young doctor chuckled, “It’s Zayne, Livia.”

A muffled gasp and hurried footsteps came from the other line, many other voices in the background, “Oh my god, hi! Where have you been all these years!?”

“Mostly studying…” he answered earnestly, leaning in his chair in order to soothe his painful neck, “But, I’ve returned to Linkon a couple of days ago… I’m sorry for not calling you sooner”

“You know, I would’ve chewed you out for that if I wasn’t working right now…” Livia’s voice was a whisper, as if she was in the middle of some important event.

“You’re working this late?” Zayne frowned, “Where?”

“I’ll tell you about it in person, now’s not the a time-”

A loud bang, similar to a gunshot echoed on the other line, making Zayne wince and straighten in his chair.

A series of screams and shuffling ensued, the doctor completely unable to distinguish which voice belonged to his friend.

“Livia!?” he called out before putting the phone on speaker. He had opened the keyboard, ready to dial emergency services, “Livia!? What is going on!?”

“Oh my god, Zayne…” Livia’s voice finally came through, her tone shaky and barely able to speak, “My boss… he’s… he’s…”

“What, Livia!? Are you hurt!?” Zayne promptly ejected himself from his chair, picking up the land phone that was on his desk.

“N-no, I’m fine” she cried, “He was shot at point-blank range by one of attendees… he’s bleeding from his stomach!”

Zayne’s professional side had taken over instantly: “Make sure to apply pressure to the wound with any piece of cloth. Is he conscious?”

“Barely!” she exclaimed, “He’s been carried into his car, we’ll head straight to the nearest hospital-”

“Where in the city are you?” he demanded, a momentary silence overtaking the other line for a moment, “Livia?”

“We’re on the southern outskirts of Linkon, we’re driving into the city-”

“Come to Akso” he ordered before she could even interrupt him, “Me and my team will wait for you. Until you arrive, just make sure to keep him conscious and continue applying pressure to the affected area”

The pause on the other line prolonged, but Livia’s final words were full of determination “Alright… see you in a few minutes…”

Zayne promptly hung up the phone and dialed the emergency department that was on the floor underneath his office, his feet soon swiftly carrying him out of the office and towards the elevators.

He was in the ER in a matter of minutes, hands already washed as he noticed a shiny black car pulling up at one of back entrances.

“Medics!” he called out, “There is a man injured in that car! Room 4!”

Everyone worked swiftly, nurses and other practicing doctors following Zayne into the designated emergency room. He had quickly disclosed the type of injury he was told the patient had, the head nurse already preparing the kit needed to patch him up.

Only a minute later, a familiar woman appeared at the entrance of the room, followed by two men dressed in black and two medics that had pushed the gurney.

“A 29 year old male, injured by a gunshot to the stomach at a point-blank range. No exit wounds” the medic disclosed before rolling the tall man in, Zayne already fully gloved and with a mask covering his face.

But, the moment he looked at the unconscious man, Zayne’s knees felt as if they were going to give out.

In a flash, his mind was flooded by countless memories that didn’t seem to belong to him… and were yet somwhat familiar.

So familiar it made his chest ache…

As the images continued to play in his head, Zayne’s body seemed to be on autopilot, ordering nurses and medics what to do as he ripped the man’s shirt to take a look at the gushing wound.

Why… is this happening to me, why now!?, he wondered, his mind so loud he could barely hear his own voice.

But, once the calm took over his mind, Zayne’s eyes focused on a familiar, sharp features.

….Sylus?....

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Read next chapter HERE!

TAG LIST: @rafayelsplushiekiller @jasmines-greentea @nezuswritingdesk @angelwhizpers @katiralovely @nothoughts-justzayne @zarakem @saltyobservationcheesecake @animegamerfox @indigoary @0nyxfeathers @belle643 @hazel-n-0-t @multisstuff @we-rice-boi @cheesemachine44 @napa-the-yappa @szafficat @chalamazed4life @twilightsmissingfur @crowroses13

HELLO, HI! We've entered modern timeline, baby! You're all in for more pining, more yearning, more angst and SO MUCH MORE FLUFF AND OTHER ADULT ACTIVITIES!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and make sure to stay healthy, everyone! New update is coming on June 14th! Another long wait, I know, but I hope this one will keep you satiated until then!

Peace, love and goodbye!

[presidentofthelipglossclub]

GUESS WHO'S BIRTHDAY IT IS!!

in honor of my birthday here are some more rescue bots headcanons!!

they (as in constructed rescue bots) have extra color receptors which allows them to see more types of light than other bots, as well as advanced hearing (they’re also the only bots with noses so they have an extra sense)

all of them have outliers (its a requirement to be a rescue bot)

blurr changed his paint job (post s4, before he showed up in rid15) because heatwave and blades basically bullied him into it

the academy where they studied was on a moon of cybertron’s, and they actually spent very little time on cybertron itself. it was sorta like a field trip spot, and they went very infrequently

quickshadow was the academy's champion shot, and she won a bunch of competitions

the rescue bots all had specialties outside of what they actually did (heatwave was a history nerd, boulder studied xenobiology, blades took journalism, chase did psychology, quickshadow was a data analyst, hightide took astronomy)

hightide was actually friends with both orion pax and megatronus separately before they realized they all knew each other

in that same vein, servo and lazerbeak were longtime friends because they grew up together

optimus is so ridiculously tolerant towards whatever the rescue bots do that they actually have a running bet on how much they can get away with before optimus gets angry (he never once has)

blurr's reputation as most annoying bot ever has been intact since way before the war when he was a racer

blades got his name through an awkward mishap at an armory that heatwave never let him live down

related to that, all the rescue bots' "names" are really more of nicknames. their names are listed on documents but their primary identification is through serial numbers because they're cold constructs

boulder had a practically bullet proof reputation at the academy as the perfect student so whenever the others wanted to get away with something they always involved him

when salvage heard about DIY's he got super into them and started making tons of pointless stuff. he never even followed the good channels, only stuff like troom troom

chase succumbs to peer pressure ridiculously easy

heatwave gives really good advice but only on accident

quickshadow and hightide like to hang out and trash talk optimus whenever he does something they don't like

blades only has field medicine training, he's not cleared for any actual treatment outside of an emergency (he can do first aid and EMT stuff but can't, like, prescribe things or do surgery). this has not stopped him from trying things though.

salvage is actually from one of cybertron's colony worlds, but he grew up on cybertron

ok here's a fun little surprise in honor of my birthday: the humans are also included in headcanons!!

kade was actually very good at gymnastics, he just got bored of it

chief burns needs glasses but he prefers to wear contacts

dani had a very extreme scene core phase, and her hairstyle is a remnant of that

frankie has super high government security clearance as a super genius and daughter of one of the world's best scientists, so she knows all kinds of military secrets

doc greene and chief burns met in childhood, doc's family moved away, and then when he got older he moved back to griffin rock and reunited with the chief

graham is the biggest night owl because of college. sometimes, when he has trouble falling asleep, the bots invite him to movie night and they all watch reruns of old movies or shows

building off that, there are two kinds of movie night: the first is with the whole burns family, rescue team, and sometimes others such as optimus or the greenes. the second is less of a movie night and more of a "we need something to do while the humans are sleeping, let's watch trashy tv all night." this kind of movie night is really just the bots (minus whoever has night shift)

professor baranova actually used to be pretty upbeat, although she was a bit misunderstood because she's neurodivergent (i also headcanon that after the whole living underwater for 28 years thing she developed DID and multiple alters to cope with the loneliness, so she's now a system)

woodrow and optimus are in a qpr. optimus refers to him as his amica, and also privately thinks of him as his human partner

doc greene at some point developed a working synthetic energon formula completely independently. when ratchet first met him (post war, probably right before he was hired to work at the rescue academy) and learned about this he lost his shit

bumblebee and dani race together all the time when he visits

this is where i'm gonna stop this post, because it's pretty late for me lol. it was my birthday today, so happy birthday to me!!

also y'all PLEASE talk to me abt any of these headcanons i will be thrilled to elaborate!

[zooliminology]

So what are the differences between Delta, Eta, and Psi’s jobs? For the researchers whose jobs don’t necessarily require going to the far planes, have they ever gone to the far planes for research or a specific reason?

I am a registrar. I keep official records of most things within the Zooliminology Project. This includes information on entities, areas, and other researchers. I store and organize this information, and share it with others where it is appropriate.

Eta does not have a similar job to me. He is responsible for sanitation and the upkeep of our facilities. He is also responsible for up-keeping entity enclosures.

Psi's occupation is uncomfortably close to mine, but at the same time his title is misleading. He is a technologies specialist and researches and catalogues geographic information of the Far Plane. Their job, for the most part, requires more access to the Far Plane and is more field work-intensive.

Many researchers do not access the Far Plane simply because their positions do not call for it. However, I can only speak for myself. I have accessed the Far Plane several times for a variety of reasons: For on-field data retrieval, to complete an otherwise incomplete set of information about an entity or area, because nobody else was available to go on an expedition, the list can continue.