They Keep A List Of Favourite Weapons Of Mass Destruction Make Out Spots. Catra Likes The Ones That Feel

They keep a list of favourite weapons of mass destruction make out spots. Catra likes the ones that feel like a cave, like it’s just them and no one else exists and they can just kiss for hours. Adora says she likes those best but everyone knows her top choice is actually the interplanetary cannon where literally the whole universe watched them make out. They know because Adora, just, wouldn’t stop.  Not that Catra was trying hard to get her to stop. She liked how into publicly claiming her Adora was.

Bow’s and Glimmer’s favourite is the genetic virus lab because something went wrong (right?) and Catra and Adora ended up having kids. Entrapta’s favourite is the machine no one could figure out because every time they ‘shut it down’ it just changed things and flipped out switches. She didn’t even mind how long Adora and Catra kissed in ‘her lab’. Which normally she’s very much against (do you know how hard it is to get cat hair out of an electronoscope? No, because you always leave it to me to clean).

really like the idea of adora still having the failsafe. like. it was supposed to kill the user so why would it be coded to go away on its own? so adora just. has this bit of half magic half technology code in her that can shut down first one tech. except. it can’t work without catra. because catra was what made it work in the first place and helped adora wield it.

she glowed too. so basically i’m imagining adora and catra going around deactivating a bunch of rogue tech both on etheria and other planets and while they definitely get better at it eventually, the first few times they literally just have to make out until it activates and it is simultaneously the funniest and most awkward thing

You’re somewhat embarrassed. You’d promised everyone a night to remember for the rest of their lives. The bag had been so heavy.  You’d just put it down for a moment. Okay, five minutes. Well you got a donut. How were you supposed to know that the guy next to you on the park bench picked up the wrong bloody bag?  They’d weighed the same, were equally awkward, and both were pretty unassuming black duffel bags.  Of course, your’s was full of careful planned and selected party supplies. His was full of masks, dynamite, rope, smoke grenades, and yet more empty black duffles. You’re friends were never going to trust you to plan party night again.

Although...

No, that was a dumb idea.  Utterly absurd. Only a fool would think it.  You’re hands pulled out the pouches in the bags, digging eagerly. Whoever carried all their supplies in the same bag probably wouldn’t leave the plans somewhere else, right? Right. You starred at the pouch of papers.  That looks like a map. And blueprints for a building. Schedules for the guard rotation. Calculations for explosives, maybe? Math wasn’t your strong suit. None of this was your strong suit.

But Joel worked with building things out of concrete as a quality tester.  You’d seen something not too dissimilar to the explosive calculations on Chelsey’s desk when she’s been planning to a massive landscaping overhaul. Alicia taught children, that couldn’t be much harder to keep track of security. Tiana and Jos worked as administrators for the local technical school and you very distinctly recall them bemoaning having to break into their own work computers. You had briefly worked as oilfield safety and had some (outdated) training on fall arrest. This wasn’t a team you’d pick for breaking in anywhere but you had beat the quickest scores on the local breakout rooms a number of times. 

Sighing, you shook you head at yourself. It was a nice fantasy. You were too practical (and not stupid enough) to seriously do this. Slowly, playing curiously with each thing, you packed the duffle bag full again. Dreams such as these were best left for curious children. Heart heavy you left the duffle in the corner, turning your mind to how to convince your friends that the night wouldn’t be completely wasted and they could trust you to plan party night again.  Unnoticed the pouch of papers rested on your kitchen table, half spilling it’s shameful contents for all to see.

Only a fool would think to actually go through with the plans of some random thieves you accidentally stole a duffle bag from. You were friends with a lot of fools.

You open your delivery of party supplies to find masks, dynamite, duffel bags, rope, and smoke grenades. Meanwhile, across town, some bank robbers are about to have a very creative night.

I get a lot of questions from  people who want to teach their kids environmental stewardship and my advice is to get them passionate about the nature around them. Distant wildlife is exciting and cool! It can teach them to appreciate, but I find it rarely teaches them to value.

Value and respect come from recognizing your place in nature and your ability to both help and hurt.

Go outside and just move some rocks and let them hold some worms. Let them get muddy. If they squash a bug, ask them why. Tell them the bugs live here too.

This sounds silly, but it’s tried and true. Each time I’ve seen a kid smash a bug, I say “why did you feel that bug wasn’t allowed to be alive?” Never in an accusing tone, never judgmental. Ask them gently, honestly. They might be dismissive and bashful at first, but if you ask them again, if you say “I like bugs, and I think it’s good that they are alive,” they start to think. You can see it happen. You can see them begin to consider life they’ve probably been told before doesn’t mater.

Tell them what you like about bugs. If you’re afraid of bugs, tell them that too. tell them “I find them a little scary, but this is why they’re still good.” Tell them they don’t have to like something for it to have value. Tell them even the things they don’t like have value.

Every time a child says they’re afraid of bugs, or dirt, we go outside, and I find a worm (most people react best to them because they don’t have a bunch of little legs), and I hold it and tell them some simple little facts. I ask them if they want to hold it. They almost always do. It’s okay if they don’t want to. Never force the interaction. It’s vital to form positive experiences and associations.

I wipe some mud on my hands. I ask them if they want some mud on their hands. If they do, I give them some mud. I tell them what worms are doing down their in the ground, which anyone can learn on google to share.

We move rocks and find beetles and spiders. They’re delicate, so we don’t pick them up. We watch them. I ask them what they imagine beetles think about all day, and they always make me laugh with their ideas. I tell them “maybe, maybe that’s what beetles think about.” Let them imagine.

Look up the birds where you live. Yes, even the “boring” ones like pigeons and sparrows. Talk about what the eat, where they go at night to sleep. Ask them where they think birds sleep. In beds like us? They’ll usually tell you no, in trees! Kids want to teach as much as they want to learn.

We talk about grass and trees. We talk about what makes the world alive. Their young minds change and make new decisions about how they want to exist in the world.

One day, if all goes well, value and respect grow into a sense of responsibility and obligation.

Do this again and again.

The secret call sign of fans.

Me: HG Wells is a man!

Random fan off camera: No she’s not!

Me: No, she’s not. Wanna talk about it?

warehouse 13 changed me as a person in a lot of ways but probably one of the biggest is that still when i see something by hg wells i subconsciously think “progressive woman author” before remembering NO NO NO that was fiction

Such We Be With Glowing Hearts Dancing On My Own

This pleases me. 

so if we follow blood of eden naming conventions, your name should be:

'Line from A Shakespeare Play' + 'Line Your National Anthem' + 'Line from... any song from the early 2000s???'

so i would be

If You Have Tears Prepare To Shed Them Now In Full Glory Okay Now Ladies

and i'm okay with that

Ironically (intentionally?) Optus then returns

Ooh this meme is old-school