thescienceofdeduction7

[scottsumrners]

[ntrider]

noncon friendship

[sonyvegas9-deactivated20241118]

Coworkers

[ryukisgod]

Your friend’s boyfriend

[onion-souls]

"Why don't the people of Gotham just move?"

Because it's a massive East Coast city but the property values are probably like $200 a month for a three bedroom apartment, and most Gothamites are like, "Hey, Bane never swore to break my back."

And here's the thing: you're not just moving out of Gotham City. You're moving into the rest of the DC universe. And it has hero-based power scaling.

Oh, Metropolis looks fucking great. But it gets invaded by aliens and robots and demigods, because Superman is there.

Wonder Woman's tangling with gods.

You go to Central City, and some Reverse-Flash motherfucker runs backwards from an alternate future and kicks your balls off at the speed of light.

You could move to the West Coast, and oh, an entire city just gets exploded by Cyborg Superman or some shit.

How about you move to Indianapolis, or Cleveland? Haha, no. They have no protector during the alien invasions, and you're in Cleveland

So stay in Gotham. Sure, you have lunatics, but you know that if you had a gun, you at least have a chance against the Joker or Riddler. Mongo of War-World would crush you. But Gotham just has creeps, and you know you have a chance. Even Bane, R'as Al-Ghul, Killer Croc, and Mr. Freeze are just slightly altered dudes. Oh no, Poison Ivy is going to kiss me to death! Who gives a shit, you kinda wanted to go out that way anyway.

There are super-intelligent telepathic gorilla warlords in Africa and the Greek titans are real and chained in the abyss

[choppers-pink-hat]

This does beg the question of why Gotham has such a horrible in-universe reputation when all its villains are relatively human compared to the cosmic bullshit that most other heroes put up with.

I think it's all about perception. Gotham City has crime. But when Ares sends his undying legions to march upon the mortal realm and Wonder Woman has to punch all of them, people don't internalize that as "crime." That's "a crisis" or "a religious event" or at best, terrorism. Same thing when Superman has to stop Brainiac from shrinking Metropolis or whatever. That stuff is objectively more dangerous but it's on such a huge scale that "crime" is not the word for it. The cops don't involve themselves in this at any point. But the stuff Batman deals with is like, robberies, assaults, gang wars, serial killings. All his villains commit actual crimes, so they go into police reports, which end up as statistics. So when someone compiles all this data, oh look, Gotham City has the highest crime rate in the country, yet again. Forget the fact that 10% of Keystone City's population had their skulls crushed by invading superintelligent gorillas. Who cares that a random guy in Opal City accidentally teleported the entire state to Hell after he found out the hard way that he was born a wizard. Those are not crimes. There's nothing in the police recordkeeping app's drop-down menu for a Gorilla invasion. Closest thing we've got is Random Chimp Event.

So my theory is that while Gotham does have a lot of crime, what it does not have is space catastrophes. And so it ends up being the most dangerous city based on a bureaucratic technicality.

[starberry-cupcake]

all this is very true, I just wanted to point out that the worst thing about metropolis isn't the alien invasions, killer robots or meta human fights breaking buildings, it's the power hungry scheming ego maniac billionaire who gets enough of a pass from the population, despite the several journalistic exposes about him, that he's been able to run for president and win

at least gotham's billionaire is funny in the tabloids and, even if he's rather ditzy, he seems to be helpful to legit causes, against all odds

[zarglepoetry]

buy here

[123iloveyoutoo]

okay but PSA about rabies:

not all rabies victims will be foaming at the mouth. rabies isn't gonna be super obvious to those who don't know what to look for there is only one documented case of someone recovering from rabies

TELL TALE SYMPTOMS:

cat does not act aggressive but attempts to bite with no warning cat is off balance and falling over often cat is spinning in circles for no reason and /or has no sense of direction increased vocalization paralysis and seizures

[zarglepoetry]

buy here

[123iloveyoutoo]

i just wante d people to b safe cus i love and care about people and you mock me like this

[zarglepoetry]

buy here

[chongoblog]

Cookies represent the body of Santa while the milk represents the blood of Santa

[babushkaat]

[babushkaat]

[onlywayin-deactivated20231101]

[yebisu]

I work cybersecurity, this is like half my job.

[fiddlertoad]

the whole vaccine deal tbh

[i-am-emily]

antidepressants

[wizardavid]

Yes these are all the work of wizards

[chasing-caws]

I believe this whole heartedly with my full chest

[chasing-caws]

Thanks for the info prev!! Still a little funny to think about tbh lol

[july-19th-club]

[kienava]

i hope this email kills us both instantly

[station18908]

The blender (S9-ish)

‘You need a better blender,’ the message on Tommy’s phone says.

No context, no explanation, but Tommy isn’t really looking for one either. Apparently Evan is in Tommy’s kitchen, and whatever he’s doing, the blender isn’t up for the task. Tommy can’t remember the last time he used it for more than a quick smoothie, so he trusts Evan’s judgement.

‘You’ll have to show me what to buy,’ he replies.

Because Tommy can’t just buy a reasonably priced new blender with good reviews. He knows his boyfriend; Evan is already compiling a list and comparing different models. There might be a spreadsheet by the time Tommy’s shift is over.

It’s also not about the blender. It’s about Evan spending more time in Tommy’s house ever since they got back together. 

Ever since Tommy gave Evan a key, he’s been getting these little messages. It’s never as straight forward as: ‘I’m at your place, see you later’. Instead Evan tells him that he watered the plants because they looked a bit droopy, or he sends Tommy a picture of Mrs. Peterson's orange cat lying on the back porch. Evan always announces that he’s at Tommy’s house without actually saying it. 

Tommy told him to come and go as he pleases; that’s what the key is for. But it’s like Evan still needs to double-check that he isn’t crossing any boundaries by being there when Tommy isn’t.

Neither of them is quite ready to tackle the conversation about moving in together, but this is a step in that direction. Maybe Evan is worried that Tommy will change his mind if he makes himself at home too quickly. Tommy can’t say that he blames him; he wouldn’t trust himself either if he was in Evan’s shoes.

They’ve talked about the break-up more than once, and Tommy gets why Evan is wary of moving too fast this time. But he also doesn't know how to prove that he truly wants to take the step from dating to living together. Apparently that leaves them in a place where he’s buying a new blender to show Evan that he can use Tommy’s kitchen as often as he wants to. 

A call comes in, quickly followed by another, and by the time Tommy checks his phone again his shift is almost over. He has a dozen new messages from Evan, with several links and a long list of pros and cons for five different blenders. Tommy loves him, lists and spreadsheets included.

But Evan isn’t going to tell him which blender he should buy, because it’s Tommy’s kitchen, and that makes it Tommy’s decision. And Tommy isn’t going to point out that buying a new blender is stupid because they’ll end up with two blenders once Evan moves in with him. Maybe they’re both a little scared and don’t want to rush forward too quickly. 

Tommy sighs, makes a mental note to look at the blenders tomorrow and heads for the showers. Time to go home to Evan. Tommy really enjoys this new phase of their relationship, even if it’s still a little complicated. 

It’s dark by the time he gets home, and there’s no light behind any of the downstairs windows, so Evan is probably already in bed. Tommy does his best to be quiet as he closes the door behind him and takes off his shoes. He starts going from room to room, the same way he always does when he comes home from a long shift, before it occurs to him that Evan probably would’ve noticed if something was wrong. Wanting Evan here and getting used to living with him are two pairs of shoes. 

The blender is sitting on the kitchen table, with a note attached to the lid that says: ‘I don’t like raw carrots,’ complete with a frowny face. Tommy grins, turns off the lights and makes his way upstairs. 

The lights in the bedroom are on, but Evan is fast asleep. He’s snoring lightly, an open book lying next to him on top of the blankets, and he’s wearing a tee that’s probably Tommy’s. He looks comfortable, like an invitation to crawl into bed and hold him. Like a promise of safety and peaceful sleep.

Carefully Tommy picks up the book and sets it on the nightstand. That’s when he notices the stack of books in the compartment next to the bed. Evan didn’t just bring a book, but enough reading material for weeks and months of going to sleep in this bed. Wanting to be here and actually living in Tommy’s house are probably separate things for him too. 

Tommy leans over and brushes a kiss against Evan’s messy curls. They’re taking the slow route, but they’ll get there, one small change at a time. This is how they’ll build a home.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

this is, as the kids say, frying me (a glasses wearer)

[humanpersonface]

Additional update to this

[lizluvscupcakes]

[tinyyellowflowers-blog]

Was talking to a coworker today who explained that her grandfather was like Snow White “but Californian. And an old man.” in that the creatures of the forest would follow him around and presumably duet with him.

“When he died the ravens sat in the trees outside for a week, watching. Taking turns. A horde of raccoons tried to break into the house every night, tearing at the siding. Eventually they gave up, but it was unsettling.”

“Aww. They were checking on him!” I said, like a normal person. Internally, I thought “Maybe you could do the thing you do with dead pets, where you show them to the living pets so the living pet understands they’re gone. But I guess if you did that to a bunch of scavenging species, they’d be like “Well, that’s very sad but he IS food now.” So what you’d need, for human sensibilities, is some sort of transparent corpse barrier. Like a see-through coffin oh that’s what the dwarves were doing! You’ve stopped paying attention to this conversation about the loss of a beloved family member you gotta phase back in.”

[deafmic]

the oceangate rabbithole is un-fucking-paralleled. what do you mean they left that thing outside in the snow in canada for the entire fucking winter. of course it imploded literally the next time they put it in the water. holy shit.

[deafmic]

there's a video now of the moment it imploded where the topside ship hears this incredibly loud bang from outside the ship (ie, not on monitoring or microphones) and that's bad in itself but the only reason the people topside didn't freak out more was because the exact same thing had happened 8 dives earlier on dive 80. and they also knew using their own monitoring systems that the bang they heard had fucked the hull in some capacity. and then they still left it outside for the entire winter.

[deafmic]

they tested the tin can carbon fiber hull with people inside it. not even oceangate people. regular civilians. after their first test model had imploded.

[deafmic]

STOCKTON RUSH DESCRIBED THE TERRIFYING POPPING AND CRACKING SOUNDS AS THE HULL BEING "SEASONED" BY THE CARBON FIBERS. LIKE A CAST IRON PAN. LIKE A WOK. SEASONED.

[aringofsalt]

another hospital alternate meeting ficlet? it's more likely than you think!! have some buck pov because they're adorable and have me in a chokehold 💛

"Oh, yeah, you should've seen him. Had to practically peel him off when Tommy had to leave, it was adorable."

Buck blinked as his brain slowly came back online, trying to banish the sleepy feeling from his head. He pulled himself up to sitting, frowning at the empty chair between his and Chimney's beds.

"What time 's'it?" he asked through a yawn. Chimney looked over, grinning as he waggled his phone in Buck's direction.

"Oh, it's like eight in the morning now, you had a good little nap. Hen, say hi."

"Hi, Buckaroo," Hen's voice came over the speaker. "I hear you met Tommy."

Something in her tone made Buck pause, thinking back. He couldn't quite put a face to the name, but flashes of memory came through anyway: broad shoulders, strong hands, soft blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled at Buck. His fingers flexed, feeling like they were missing something between them.

"Oh. Tommy," he breathed. "He was so cool."

Chim and Hen erupted into laughter.

"Oh, you've got it bad, man," Chim said. "Hold on. Hen, I'll call you back in a minute."

He ended the call, then swiped through his phone for a moment before turning it to face Buck. There, on the screen, Buck saw himself, curled on his side in his hospital bed, both hands wrapped around one belonging to the man from his memories. Tommy. Chimney had caught them when they were looking at each other, and he was pleasantly surprised to see the soft look in Tommy's eyes wasn't just something his mind had made up. It was a memory.

And then he remembered something else.

"Oh my god," he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I called him my boyfriend? He probably thought I was so weird."

"Eh, he's been around people on pain pills before," Chimney assured him, reaching over awkwardly to pat him on the elbow. "He wasn't even weirded out when you called him Hot Stuff."

"I'm going to throw myself back in that collapsing building now."

"Buck. Listen to me." Chimney waited patiently for him to look up. "That man held your hand and let you call him Tommy Hot Stuff for nearly two hours before he had to go to work, and he didn't even complain once. Trust me, that was Tommy's this is adorable face, not his this is weird face."

"You think he thinks I'm adorable?" Buck asked skeptically.

"Unfortunately for all onlookers held captive by a hospital bed—namely, me—I can confirm you're pretty much exactly his type." Chimney paused, meeting his gaze meaningfully. "Is he yours?"

Buck bit his lip as he thought. He'd never dated a man before, never really had the opportunity, but he'd done his fair share of checking them out in gyms and clubs, appreciating a hot guy's ass. He was pretty sure he remembered Tommy having a great one, but more than that, he was remembering how comfortable the other man had made him feel, how his smiles had lit him up from the inside out. He'd been in the hospital on pain meds plenty of times, and never felt like that about anyone else before; that was all Tommy.

"Yeah," he said firmly. "He is."

He leaned over, digging around on the bedside table until he laid a hand on his phone.

"Give me his number," he said, "I've got a boyfriend to woo."

Rolling his eyes, Chimney read off the phone number, and Buck got to work.

so, i hear i have a boyfriend now, and i want to treat him right. wanna get dinner later? my treat :)

Tommy Hot Stuff :) I can definitely do later. Let me know what time you get out of the hospital and I'll swing by to pick you up. Can't let my boyfriend uber home :)

[aringofsalt]

thank you to @birdboybuckley for letting me steal one of her lovely alternate meeting ideas to help get me out of my writing slump today! hope you enjoy 💛

set in some nebulous time, maybe s3-4? put it wherever you want!

"Heeeeey! That's my boyfriend!"

Tommy startled, staring at the smiling man on the bed in confusion before backing out of the room. He double checked the number on the door: 335, exactly what the nurse had told him five minutes ago when he started looking for Howie's room, but that man definitely was not Howie, and definitely was not his boyfriend, considering he didn't even have one.

He stepped back into the room, only to find the man still looking at him, although this time a pout was on his face instead of the wide smile.

"Why'd you run away from me?" He demanded. "That's not very nice."

"Yeah, man, that's not very nice at all," came Chimney's voice, and this time, not distracted by the handsome stranger closer to the door, Tommy noticed him peeking around the IV stand between the beds.

"What's not very nice is sassing the man who's bringing you food that isn't cold, grey mashed potatoes, Han," he said mildly, dropping the bag full of snacks on one of the chairs between the beds before sitting down in the other one. He glanced at the man in the other bed, who was still staring at him, and Howie laughed.

"Oh, this is Evan Buckley, by the way, he started at the 118 a couple weeks after you left. I got a couple bumps and bruises, this guy took a beam to the brain. He's a bit concussed, they've got him on the good drugs. Buck, this is—"

"Of course I know who it is! That's my boyfriend." The pout was back on Evan's face in full force, and Tommy was just about ready to give him anything he wanted.

"He's not your boyfriend, Buck."

"Then why is his picture above my locker?" Evan pointed at Howie accusingly. "That would be a weird place to put his picture if he wasn't my boyfriend."

"That's a 118 group photo from before he left to go to air support," Howie said patiently, "it's been there for five years. But sure, big guy. What's your boyfriend's name, then? Introduce me."

Evan squinted, turning his attention to Tommy, then he snapped his fingers.

"Hot Stuff," he announced. "That's your name. I nearly forgot. But it suits you."

Tommy laughed, surprised. "Well, thank you. But actually, my name's Tommy."

"Tommy! That suits you even better. Maybe it can be your last name. Tommy Hot Stuff."

He reached out, making grabby hands at Tommy until he gave in and reached back, letting the other man play with his fingers. He didn't talk much, just listened to Tommy and Chimney catching up, but he kept holding Tommy's hand. Eventually, Tommy had to leave to get to Harbor for his shift, and Evan very dramatically kissed the back of his hand before he let him go, telling him to be safe.

Tommy was already far too enchanted by Evan; he knew odds were that when he was lucid, he'd laugh at the way he latched on to Tommy, if he even remembered it. But it had been nice to pretend, for a while, and Evan's sunny smile was in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

The next morning, Tommy woke to his phone vibrating on the nightstand.

Howard Han Hey, Tommy Hot Stuff, I gave Buck your number. He was really insistent, I didn't think you'd mind.

He'd barely finished reading when his phone buzzed again in his hand, a new message hiding Howie's.

Unknown Number so, i hear i have a boyfriend now, and i want to treat him right. wanna get dinner later? my treat :)

[not100bees]

[powerbottombrucespringsteen]

[dreamdropdollop]

ya'll who's up for group meowing

[narwhalsarefalling]

the aircraft emergency frequency (known as GUARD in the usa) is SUPPOSED to be used for emergencies. the frequency is 121.5 mhz. it is for all international air distress and emergencies and stuff (theres a different one for military)

however. for some goddamn reason. for at least the past ten years (maybe more) there has been meowing. random pilots going “meowww!” on the emergency frequency. this is often followed by at least 8 different people yelling “GUARRRRD” “YOUR ON GUARD” “STOP FUCKING MEOWING” and at least 3 others meowing also.

i have a radio and often tune into this frequency if i want to hear local airplane pilots/control tower operators act like absolute fools.

here’s some operators using GUARD to try to contact a flight that went missing (they found them) and just the absolute nonsense, the one guy spamming caribbean music, the voice changer, and the meowing and guard police are so fucking funny. GUARD is always doing shit like this. its great. (note that he isnt on the frequency until 1:30, so the other shit is just normal coworker conversations. “who the fuck eats honeydew” is just two coworkers not abusing resources).

usually radio etiquette is a lot more professional for these guys but mistakes do happen. people tend to be pretty quick on the jokes tho. if you ever want to listen to the funniest shit ever a lot of amateur radio operators upload the funniest dialogue they catch on youtube pretty often.

[my-life-is-a-sidequest]

@antifatemptress is this true?

[antifatemptress]

Yes, unfortunately this is true. Pilots are children. And since we're all legally obligated to monitor guard at all times when able, these guys know they always have an audience. Things I've also heard on guard include:

• someone barking, which was nice variety and very much appreciated to see more canine representation in my field

• airline captains making full cabin announcements, not realizing they were transmitting, followed by several other pilots asking questions as if they were in the cabin

• airline captain making about half a cabin announcement before stopping cold, pausing for about 3 seconds, and mumbling "...I am so fucking sorry," then presumably making the announcement again to his actual cabin

• two pilots for different airlines speaking Italian to each other (one of these was actually my captain, the other guy was a friend from his last job)

• pilot doing a radio shockjock voice saying "aaalrighty folks you're listening to one-twenty-one-point-five the GUARRRRRRD, bringing you the lastest in aviation disasters, mishaps, and tragedieesss! Up next, four more hours of nonstop cat soundssssss!"