skeleton full

The hounds of the Aglionby Hunt Club howled it that fall: away, away, away.

Support women in STEM

Because they’ve advanced the success and growth of those fields for just as long as men, even when they weren’t afforded the opportunity, the recognition, or the grants. Onward:

Rosalind Franklin (July 25, 1920—April 16, 1958)

Originally posted by bhagatkapil

Rosalind Franklin was a chemist and, get this, X-ray crystallographer. As far as titles go, you can’t do much better than crystallographer. Her work in understanding the molecular structure of DNA laid the foundation for the discovery of the double helix. She also made significant contributions to understanding the structures of RNAs. And viruses. And coal. And graphite. Her work was not fully appreciated until after she passed away. Two teams of all-male scientists who used her work to discover great things later went on to win Nobel Prizes.

Rebecca Lee Crumpler (February 8, 1831—March 9, 1895)

Originally posted by pylonss

Rebecca Lee Crumpler spent most of her professional life being the first at things. She was the very first Black woman to become a physician in the United States. The first (and only) Black woman to graduate from New England Female Medical College. She authored Book of Medical Discourses, one of the very first medical books written by a Black person. Every obstacle she powered through was done in an effort to provide care for other people. Hero. 

Mary Anning (May 21, 1799—March 9, 1847)

Originally posted by rejectedprincesses

Mary Anning discovered the first full Ichthyosaur skeleton at 11,  the very first Plesiosaur at 22, and then opened up her own fossil store front a few years later. We repeat: She opened up her own fossil store. We could go on and on, but Rejected Princesses (@rejectedprincesses​) already did it best in this biographical comic. While you’re over there, check out their whole archive and the dozens and dozens of women’s life stories within.

Follow these too:

  • She Thought It: Crossing Bodies in Sciences and Arts (@shethoughtit​​) is a database dedicated to shedding light on women making strides in both science and the arts. A whole bunch of great things.
  • Lady Scientists of Tumblr (@scientific-women​​) promises everything you could ever want from a feminist science round-up blog: intersectionality and equal representation of all scientists who identify as female. Hell yeah.
  • Math Brain (@ihaveamathbrain​​) backs the novel idea that women are indeed capable of understanding math. Shocking. With the perfect amount of sarcasm, they tackle the idea some bozos have that women just don’t have the mind for mathematics.

Silence

Characters:  Dean x Reader

Summary:  Drabble about Dean and reader sharing a bed on the job.

Word Count:  877

Warnings:  Smut/Language

The semi-trucks rolling down the highway make the windows rattle in the motel room. The room is dark, the mattress lumpy. For the last three weeks, I’ve been on the road, staying in motel after motel. We haven’t been to the bunker since we started this case. For three weeks, I’ve shared a bed with one of the Winchesters, alternating beds every night to make things fair.

For the last three weeks, something has been happening in the bed I share with one of the Winchesters. Dean, specifically. Tonight, I’m  hyper aware of his body next to mine, of the way his foot touches mine, the way his hand strokes the small of back. His breath ghosts over my neck for a moment, just before his lips meet my skin. I’m also completely aware of the fact that Sam is in the opposite bed. I listen to his breathing, waiting for the reassuring sound of his sonorous snores. I know Dean is waiting for the same sound.

We haven’t once talked about it, about what we do under the cover of darkness. Not in the bright daylight, not over coffee and research. The topic is mutually and silently agreed upon as taboo. When the sun comes up, we go back to being us - coworkers-slash-friends. I guess that I should add ‘with benefits’ to that list, because it definitely seems like a benefit, what we’re doing.  

It all started by accident, I guess. I woke up in the middle of the night to find Dean pressed up against my back, an arm slung around my waist. I must have been having one hell of a dream, because I woke up seriously aroused. Like panty-drenching arousal. Maybe the dream was inspired by his closeness, the intimacy of our nocturnal cuddling. Even now, I don’t know if he was awake at that moment, or if he only woke up because I shifted to face him.  

I didn’t have any ulterior motive or any intention, it just…happened. Dean made a quiet moan-like noise and pulled me closer to him, his chest pressed to mine. We laid there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, our mouths a fraction of an inch apart. There was so much tension in that moment, his breath mingling with mine, heat filling the space between us.  

I remember that feeling, that anticipatory feeling. Would he kiss me? Should I kiss him? Will we remain in this stand off until we both fall asleep and pretend this never happened?

And then we kissed. It began as a soft kiss, graduating slowly to something more explosive, a deep, searing kiss. Dean’s hand slipped under the waistband of my shorts, his fingers slipping into me. Everything was fast and urgent, his fingers pumping into me, his mouth smothering my gasps. We didn’t speak, we tried to not to make a sound, aware of Sam’s presence only feet away.

When his fingers withdrew, slick with my arousal, I slipped my shorts off. He followed suit, removing his pants before climbing on top of me, my legs parting to welcome him.  In the heat of the moment, I was only dimly aware of the slight creaking of the bed springs as Dean moved inside me, his mouth next to my ear, whispering encouragement.

Dean, as a lover, was far more tender than I expected. He took his time, he moved with me, his lips blazing a trail of kisses wherever they met my skin. Nearly silent sex, it’s seriously fucking hot. It’s a challenge, trying not to gasp or moan or sigh or scream.  

When we finished, there was more silence. We didn’t talk about what had just happened. We didn’t talk about whether or not it would happen again. Dean cuddled up behind me and gently ran his hands over my ribs, down my arms. Eventually, he kissed my temple and rolled away, drifting off to sleep.

Every other night, for the past three weeks, we’ve done this.  In complete and total silence.

So I lay here, now, with Dean at my side. Sam’s not yet snoring, so the fact that Dean’s hand is down my pants and mine is wrapped around his cock makes things more exciting, more dangerous. It’s like a silent dare, who can stay the quietest. I bite my lip to hold back a moan and feel Dean’s lips on my earlobe. “Shh,” he whispers, so faintly that only I can hear it. I’m trying not to buck my hips because I’m greedy for more.  

God, I’m so fucking horny right now. All I want to do is climb on top of Dean and fuck the shit out of him. But that’s what makes it all the more desirable, the sex, I have to wait. I have to hold out until we’re sure Sammy is asleep. Jesus, what’s taking him so long?

Like I said, we won’t talk about this tomorrow. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we get back to the bunker, back to our own beds. I don’t know what Dean is thinking. I don’t even know what the hell I want out of this.

All I know is I want Dean deep inside me, and I want it now.

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6

Some of the most remote locations on earth in the Arctic. 


These are scenes from my latest video that I just put up. You can watch it here:


This video has footage and the story of an Arctic expedition I was on with Astronaut Chris Hadfield. We ride straight INTO ice, walk through a beach full of skeletons, enter one of the most remote places on Earth, eat the oldest organisms on Earth! (all for real!)


This was a bucket list adventure. Hope you enjoy!


a video game metaphor

civilization 5 barbarians: a small rapscallion of a skeleton. his heart is full of malice that his tiny body cannot accomplish, so he settles for smacking your beverages off of the coffee table when you aren’t looking. his shenanigans are tiresome

civilization 6 barbarians:

this fucking dude -

he is made of metal. his bones are covered in spikes and when he howls his terrible war howl, the sun goes dark and birds fall from the sky. you watch in terrified awe as he picks up your car and bites it in half. his name is written on his forehead in three-meter-tall flaming letters, and it is FUCKMOUNTAIN DEATHMONSTER. there can be no hope in a universe that contains the fuckmountain

A Defeated Man

Characters:  Dean, Reader

Summary: The reader is the only one that Dean can share his secrets with.

Warnings:  I fell into the angst hole with this one.  Sorry.

A Defeated Man

If you knew Dean when he was younger, you wouldn’t recognize the man he is today. I can say that with confidence because I knew him back when. Back when he used to be cocky; cocksure. Full of confidence, full of fight, ready for anything. He was full of life back then. I can’t say that Dean was ever happy, but he had a lust for life. There was zeal in his heart, excitement in his eyes.

Today, he’s a different man, a defeated man. His knuckles are bloody and scraped, his face mottled with a mosaic of bluish purple bruises. He has a mark seared into his skin of his arm that he can’t rid himself of. It’s slowly eating away at every scrap of goodness left in him, the pieces of his humanity that haven’t yet been destroyed. Dean is changing in ways he doesn’t understand. Maybe he doesn’t want to understand. Gone is the man who’d laugh in the face of evil and taunt monsters, here sits a man wearied and worn. He quite literally carries the weight of the world on his shoulders some days, and the bone-crushing heaviness weighs him down, pulling him into a dark abyss of sorrow and sadness. He spends far too much time inside a bottle, the blood on his hands seems as if it will never wash away.

My fingers skim over the nape of his neck, his hair has begun to curl slightly along the hairline. It’s been too long since he’s had it cut, he can’t find the time or the will for the mundane. Involuntarily, he flinches away from my touch, he doesn’t even realize he does it.

I long to take away his pain, to lock it up in my own heart, to carry his burdens, the brokenness of him. I want to stitch his heart back together, gathering the pieces in my hands and tenderly molding them back into something he can recognize, something that will quiet and calm his soul.  

I’ve been with Dean for years, in some way or another. We were important to one another, we leaned on one another, from time to time we shared physical comfort. We were never two halves of a whole, never destined to be, not star-crossed lovers. Despite it all, we formed a connection, a bond that linked us. Maybe it was the life, the shared tragedy. Only a hunter can truly understand one of their own.  

In the end, I’d become another check mark on his vast and ever growing list of things that cause him pain. It was through no fault of my own or of his. But this is an inherent part of Dean, this is the crux of the man that he is - he takes everything on as his own fault. If only he’d been smarter, faster, stronger. I know he has these thoughts because he’s shared them with me.  

He still talks to me about these things. Truthfully, since that fateful day, he’s only become more open and more honest with me. He tells me everything, the darkest things, the things I wish I didn’t know. He has no one else to talk to. The words tumble out in a rush sometimes surprising even him, filling the empty air with his heartache and loss. Sam tries to bring him out of his shell, but he can never speak freely with his brother. There’s too much history there. Dean, forever and always, will seek to protect his brother from the darkest secrets, the ones he harbors deep inside of him. With me, there’s no judgment. Which is part of the reason I can’t bring myself to try and leave.

Even if I could leave, I don’t think I would. He doesn’t even know how much he needs me, the small comfort I can bring him. Sam doesn’t know about this, it’s our secret. Or more like my secret.

For years now, since that day, he’s worn the talisman I crafted for him around his neck on a silver chain. He never takes it off, not even to shower.

If he knew the truth, he’d take it off. He’d burn it in a heartbeat.

He never would have wanted this, and that’s why I can never tell him, never reveal myself.

The talisman is what binds me to him, keeps my spirit here. Even after my body was burned on the pyre and reduced to ash, it keeps me here.  

It’s like I said though, even if I could leave, I wouldn’t. I’ll stay by his side until that mark takes away every bit of the man inside, until Dean Winchester no longer exists.

He needs me and I won’t abandon him a second time.

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OUAT Mini-Review 6x11: Tougher Than The Rest

We’re baaaaack! At last I can leave the anti-rumple tag, which I’ve been in so long I started to get brochures about time shares, and go back to snarking on everyone. Oh, happy day! Let’s dive into that enchanted overnight wardrobe together. Ready?

  1. Someone needs to talk to Emma about her eyebrow situation– she looks perpetually surprised and slightly upset. That’s how most Rumbellers felt all of 6A so I feel you, Emma– but Kabuki Eyebrows are not the look for spring. Change the fate on your face first, yes?
  2. Teen!August looked nothing like either Adult!August or Kid!August but maybe that’s a subtle meta-commentary on unreliable narrators? Discuss.
  3. Kid!Emma looks like she could punch you in the face and I admire that. It’s tough to glare in a beanie, but she’s got it down. I love that she chose her own name, too.
  4. I don’t know why they needed a magic chisel when Pinocchio could just chew the scenery all the way down to Storybrooke. But while I disliked the O.G. bobble-headed liar I really liked Wish!August, daddy issues and all. I even liked that Original!August was typing on the Mystery Fakeout Typewriter in the garage so he wouldn’t wake his Papa. Such a nice boy. I guess this episode was about Redeeming Non-viable Stubbly Love Interests– I’m not sure we needed that, but it was nice to see. (Now, where’s Walsh?)
  5. Wish!August carved a wooden swan (ship name call-out!) out of instinct, and Wish!Robin had his feather and didn’t age (along with Wish!Sheriff Nottingham), implying that there IS a connection between the Wish!realm and the “real” realm. Maybe all Wish!Robins go to heaven?
  6. Wish!Robin is bitter and salty and somehow I liked him better than the real thing. Wish!Robin and Regina had more of a believable connection in this episode than all of S3-5 for me, which just goes to show when you slow down and have people talk to one another instead of just screaming at monsters in the same frame magic can happen. 
  7. Regina gets hit with the Anti-magic Slap Bracelet of Convenient Plot-points … but wasn’t that brought to Storybrooke by Greg/Tamara/Peter Pan? How would it appear in the Wish!verse? (Cue Wish!Rumple reading “Circuitry and Plot Holes for Dummies.”)
  8. I know we’re supposed to sympathize that Regina’s super glum that this realm seems to be “better off without her” but, you know, she DID drop a lot of bodies. I want Regina to love herself and re-integrate post-haste because it’s healthy  … and also because Split!EvilQueen has killed three people and screwed with Belle. But I am here for Happy!Regina– let’s see more of that this season.
  9. Wish!Hook was there for comedic effect, and it worked for me! Nice to know he’s still got his swagger in this realm; I didn’t even mind the potbelly. What would you rather, a bag of bones?
  10. Speaking of which … So Wish!Snow and Charming never checked Regina’s tower for prisoners, which is why Wish!Belle starved to death along with who knows how many others? This is why Regina is mayor. This is why Regina will ALWAYS be mayor. Remember in S2 when the curse broke and everyone was running around trying to find their loved ones and Charming just gave a speech about hope, when it turned out Regina had binders that scrupulously recorded everyone’s real name, cursed name, and address because she’s a giant nerd who takes her real-life SIMS game seriously? Regina may kill the odd peasant when she’s having a bad day but she’s the Project Manager Storybrooke needs, is what I’m saying.
  11. If Belle was dead for 28 years when Rumple found her skeleton, how did he know it was her? Did Belle claw a goodbye message in the walls before she died? “DEAR RUMPLE SORRY WE NEVER BANGED XOXO BELLE.”
  12. Also, that wasn’t remotely a full skeleton Rumple dropped on the ground. What did he do with the re– you know what? I don’t wanna know. (Note to fic writers: I don’t want to see the words “sad wanking” and “tibia” in the same sentence, okay? O-KAY?)
  13. Gideon wants to be a hero, like his mom, by stabbing someone, like his dad. I love it. Gideon is a tall emo drink of Angsty Monk and I totally would– but where are his lips? #PoofGideonLips2k17
  14. When Rumple had his tete-to-eyes-all-the-way-up-here-tete with Gideon and went: “You’ve been alive for 28 years, I’ve been alive for centuries. There are things a man learns …” I thought for a second it was going to turn into a rather-late-in-the-day explanation of the birds and the bees. “Your mother has written this pamphlet with some of her favorite positions, but you have to be a bit flexible to– wait, where are you going?”
  15. Do you think Belle has her wardrobe categorized by mood? Her white fur coat ensemble was filed under “I’m Trustworthy But I Like to Bang Dangerous People.”
  16. Unless the script read: “RUMPLE sneaks off STAGE LEFT while BELLE awkwardly goose-steps off STAGE RIGHT” the director has some explaining to do. That was the worst example of “walk casual” I’ve ever seen, unless they just had an angsty parental quickie in the alley or something.
  17. Speaking of weird directorial choices, where’s the missing scene between Belle and Gideon? At the well Belle intimates that Hook/Charming “betrayed her trust”– but she just asked them to hold off until she could talk to Gideon. That was during the day and then all of a sudden it’s night, Belle’s changed outfits, she hasn’t talked to Gideon, and she says she “protected [Gideon] knowing what he wanted to do.” Er, was this off-screen? I know a lot of Rumbelle is reading between the lines but sometimes things need to make it in the episode, you guys. Maybe next episode will have a Belle/Gideon conversation and they didn’t want to be too repetitive?
  18. Way to ruin your mom’s clock tower, Gideon! I know some people were mad at Belle for staying on the Jolly Roger in 6A instead of in her library apartment … but do you know how many times the clock tower has been broken into by villains? Maid!Joanna died there, Hook was tied up there, Rumple tried to massacre nuns there, Maleficent was in the basement for 28 years, I think Dark Swan hung out there once … Belle would never get any rest up there, is what I’m saying.
  19. Charming is going off the rails on a sleep-deprived crazy train and I’m here for it. But remember, Snow is the brains of this particular operation. Tag her back in before you drop of exhaustion, yes? No more than three Red Bulls at a time.
  20. I’m all for the message that you can change your fate, but this is intimating the writers are taking “Killing Emma” off the table of options, no? That leaves either depowering-via-shears, sleeping curse until a “cure” is found, or some kind of Hail Mary-Margaret shenanigans in the finale involving a mass-TLK or something. *bites fingernails* I can’t stand the suspense!
Lips of an Angel-Part 3

Summary: Dean struggles with keeping his life with Lisa in check after you call him

SERIES MASTERLIST

JILL’s MASTERLIST

Characters: Reader, Dean, Lisa

Pairings: Prev. Dean x Reader, Reader x Nate (OFC), Dean x Lisa

Word Count: 1000

Warnings:  Language, Dean’s POV, Angst

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading.

Tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be put on my Forever Fic Tag List, I’m changing my process because I know I have been forgetful. You can add yourself to my tag list on a Google Doc…LINK HERE

Originally posted by zombieellis97

That phone, that mother fucking phone. This is the fifth night in a row that I can’t stop staring at it. What if she calls again? What do I say? What if Lisa gets to it first? What then? And it just keeps running through my damn head over and fucking over again.

I can’t even decide if I want it to ring or not. Because if she does call, I don’t know what I will do, if I can take it, hearing her.

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noregratz  asked:

... Will you finish the fourth one when your patience is restored? XD

Actually, that’s there as a joke. ‘Too many bones, too little patience’ just seemed like a funnier thing than, say, ‘Sorry, kids, this blog is PG’. Especially considering there’s really nothing to censor there.

I never had an actual outfit planned for that last panel though — and why would I, if I the joke didn’t call for it? — but I do have a full-body thing without clothes, if you wanna see. I actually drew it first and then dressed it up like you would a paper doll :D

I don’t think I’ve ever drawn a full skeleton before. Even a cartoony one.

10

Part 1…? I think. (-_-)ゞ゛sorry for the messiness (kinda rushed)!

Fancomic after events of "The Empty City” and “Red Death” 

Flowerfell has invaded my life and sketchbook why does this AU give me so much sinspiration– *wheeze* I hope you’re happy flower satan look at what you did ಠ╭╮ಠ My sketchbooks are full of sin

Flowerhellfell by @underfart-snas / @siviosanei
Fanfictions by @leviticusarts / @leviticuswrites

For no reason at all I wanted to give a shout out to everyone who’s following this little corner of the net and take the time to read the stuff I post when it floats across dashboards. You all are fantastic people and I hope your new year is going splendidly so far.

A special thank you to those in bold. If it weren’t for you  I wouldn’t have gotten the fics out that I did. You’ve been a steady source of input, encouragement and a good whip cracking when I need it. I love ya.

May you all know peace and joy in the months to come.

(tags below the cut. Names struck through could not be tagged)

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