#But if you give me a human-looking machine I find it way more engaging when there are very distinct differences

[bionicbore]

Constantly thinking about Marcus and how non-robotic he was. Seems like most people enjoy/roll with that but. Idk I genuinely would’ve enjoyed a much more uncanny Marcus. He’s got hyper intelligent AI but he is very much Not  Human and doesn’t think like one

Marcus not knowing who Leo was for so long despite being in the same classes because he has built-in tunnel vision. Unless you’re directly relevant to his mission, be it as an obstacle, a target, or just necessary to maintain his cover, he Will Not remember you

Marcus not actually leaving any fingerprints on his guitar

Adam helping Marcus up for whatever reason and commenting that this kid is way heavier than he looks

Yet he somehow manages to get around without Chase hearing him

Marcus just randomly going blank while he processes new information/situations and how he’s supposed to react. From an outside perspective, this kid’s personality literally just... turns off for like half a second before he’s back to normal like nothing happened

He’s blank around Douglas a lot because he doesn’t actually need to deceive anyone, and his outward personality pretty much only turns on when he’s being interacted with. Creeps Douglas out big time whenever he actually notices it

Marcus doesn’t exactly process that he’s an android for the same reason a smart appliance isn’t self-aware. You don’t program a GPS to know it’s a GPS, let alone that you’ll replace it the minute it breaks. So despite all the additional maintenance, Marcus views himself as no different than the Rats

The extent of his programming involving the Rats is Douglas’s kids, in the same way that he is Douglas’s son. Douglas didn’t think to program anything about Marcus viewing them as his siblings

Marcus not following the plan in Bionic Showdown because, as shown multiple times, hyper intelligent AI does not mesh well with objective programming

Marcus having no qualms about throwing Chase into a meat grinder on account of his logic being “Dad wants his three bionic kids. If I kill you, he’ll still have me. That still makes three”

Douglas actually being horrified by this ‘cause he has been projecting so hard onto this android and nothing shatters those rose tinted glasses like watching it try to kill your kid

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

[samuelthesilly]

*Puts on autism goggles*

So fun fact, V1 never participated in the murder of humankind. This isn’t just a headcanon either, this can be backed up with actual facts. When you first start the game, you’re presented with this:

A hallway with planks over it. In order to enter hell, you need to break these planks with your fist, a simple way of implementing a tutorial. Right?

WRONG.

If V1 had to break those planks, that means that it was the first being to enter Hell after it had been closed off by humanity.

If all the machines in ULTRAKILL run on blood, (and they do, every single one gives blood when hit, plus the terminal entries confirm it) surely after depleting all blood on the surface, they would venture into Hell where there’s more in order to survive.

V1 being the first to enter Hell implies that at some point, for one reason or another, they were turned on and set free/escaped into the world.

“But Sam, V1 could have entered Hell first and also killed the humans”

NOPE!

Look at your health when you first start the game. 10/100. V1 runs on blood, so surely after massacring even just one human, they would be much higher health. No, to me this implies that V1 was purposely kept on low health at whatever lab/storage facility it was at (considering V1 never made it out of the prototype phase).

Another thing is the main objective; ‘find a weapon’. If V1 had engaged in the killing, it would have absolutely scavenged a weapon to help kill better (we know it definitely isn’t above stealing things from other machines). If you want to, you could write off the breaking of the planks as nothing but a tutorial. However, this still doesn’t make sense. If it entered Hell after humanity was already dead, what was stopping it from scavenging/stealing a weapons before venturing downwards?

Anyway, my theory, which probably doesn’t even matter, is this;

V1, for whatever reason, was powered on/released before the massacre of humanity. Maybe a few hours, or even minutes beforehand, it can’t have been long considering the whole game takes place over the course of like 24 hours. Also, we literally see the mass influx of souls in the river Styx. (This also implies that the Ferryman was saved by Gabriel pretty much right before we meet them, which is kinda sad. Imagine getting saved, then either dying to a robot or a f*cking leviathan. I’m not sure how they had time to carve the statue of Gabe, so I’m gonna cautiously assume they made it before meeting him IRL.)

That’s pretty much all I have. I don’t know why V1 entered Hell in the first place, all I know is it wasn’t responsible for humanity’s extinction. Feel free to theorise/tell me i’m an idiot in the tags/replies.

[crystal-crax]

A RANT

A TRAUMATIZED FATHER

aka: a splinter defense

I've been rewatching a bunch of different tmnt versions and a thought popped in my mind. Is splinter an analogy for depressed/traumatized parents?

Most interpretations of him make me feel that way, at least. Specially the 2003, bayverse, 2012, rise and mutant mayhem splinters- mostly because those are the versions i grew up with and are more familiar with, lol.

The way his own point of view, experiences impacts the turtles and affects their personalities and goals so...i don't know how to express it, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth when i see people treating him as some kind of villain¿

In almost every version of Splinter, there's a catalyst for his choice to raise the turtles as ninjas and a deep fear to allow them to explore the real world. Something happens to him that makes him either disconnect emotionally (bayverse/rise), place insane responsabilities and expectations on them (2012 i'm looking straight at you), or makes him be overly protective of his sons (mayhem, 2003).

I might be speaking out of turn, but most versions of the hamato/Splinterson family feel as if a part of their dynamic is that of a partially dysfunctional one, mostly due to splint's traumas.

2003 and Bayverse saw the one that took care of him be killed without mercy, vowing to take care of the young turtles that were affected by the actions of those who altered his world.

Rise and 2012 are direct victims, being stripped away from humanity without a choice, taken from everything they knew, betrayed, so they keep clinging to the only thing that still gives them a small blink of hope and happiness, four little turtles that have been mutated just as he was (one even directly sharing his dna with the turtles).

Even mutant mayhem! Sure he wasn't directly in some accident- But even he shows high levels of anxiety and fear towards the world, prohibiting his children to interact directly with it and teaching them that humans can't be trusted at all. He has been attacked and persecuted, but what makes him break is watching his own sons (the only family and precious possesion he holds, said by himself) get hurt and rejected by humans as he once was (mikey almost got ran over my a bus y'all). He deeply CONNECTS with his sons and clearly projects his own fears and issues on them, straining the way the boys perceive themselves and their own relationships within the family.

Experts agree that trauma affects the father's/mother's parenting style, which leads the children to adopt unhealthy coping mechanisms and attitudes. The effects of intergenerational trauma can impact many parts of your life, from how you see yourself to how you communicate with others.

“Trauma can inform nearly everything about the way we exist and engage with our worlds, including the ways we parent and model behaviors for children,”

Saba Harouni Lurie, LMFT and founder of Take Root Therapy in California

Am i saying splint is abusive? NO, but i'm definately explaining that almost every version of him replicates the pressure and weight he feels, which in turn makes the own brothers perpetuate said cycle of misunderstanding and emotional confusion/neglect

Sometimes, children learn unhealthy patterns indirectly through interacting with or observing family members. For example, if your parents experienced trauma they may tend to avoid distress and conflict altogether. They may relate to each other in passive or passive-aggressive ways. They may have trouble asserting their needs constructively or directly problem-solving.

Raph's anger issues, leo's anxiety, don's temper and loneliness (which sometimes seems to trasnlate on finding comfort with his computers/machines) and mikey's high emotions and empathy.

The boys love each other, they're family, but almost in every version they seem to battle their own feelings of inadequacy. They fight, hide their thoughts and emotions, have sudden bursts of anger or panic and fail to understand how to properly express themselves (heck, the rise turtles even go so far as directly stating they've barely ever been hugged)

Yes, every splinter has failed and could've done better, but they did what they believed was better for their sons. Their only wish was to keep them safe, hide them from harm and be able to live peacefully as a family; if training their sons to be ninjas was the best thing they could think of, honestly, who am i to judge?

My conclusion? Take the family for a road trip to the nearest therapist

[thequeenofthewinter]

In the Midst of Winter has turned two.

Actually, it's my "writer-versary" in general. I hadn't written anything before this. (I didn't start posting until a few weeks later, but today's the day I started tapping away at those keys.)

730 days. 253,968 words. And well, now we're working on a sequel.

Two years ago, I opened up a Word document, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Still don't quite know what I am doing if I am honest with myself, but in that time there have been a few things which I have discovered for myself. Idk, I am feeling cute, and I thought maybe I would share some of those thoughts here. There's nothing mind bending or earth shattering here. I'm just a girl with a keyboard who writes fanfiction.

In the time since I started writing, there are a lot of things which I have learned and even more which I will continue to learn in the future. The most important of these things is: you write for yourself and you write to have fun. If you are having fun and if writing makes you happy, that is the only thing which is important. Yes, yes. I know, I know. Comments and kudos are nice. I like them too, but they are not what keeps you going, not truly anyway. It's a love of a story, a love of your craft and what you're doing, and the joy you get from creating. Yes, but Winter, lack of engagement is a writer killer. I hear you, friend. I see you. I am also you. I do not deny that a lack of engagement can definitely feel demotivating. I'd be lying if I didn't say that sometimes I feel a wee bit sad when I see my story just kind of sits there. But it's more than that. The comments, no matter how nice they are, will not keep you going when you have no love of what you're doing and your heart isn't truly in it. (There. I said it.)

We make fanfiction because we love something so much that it moves us to words, and taking the spirit and soul out of it and turning it into a comment machine, won't keep you afloat forever. Nor will it give you quality writing.

Conversely, something else which I learned is that negative comments can go straight into the TRASH where they belong. You cannot please everyone, and there will always be someone who doesn't like your writing. Haters are going to hate, and if they don't like what you're writing, that does not mean anything is wrong with it. All writing is good writing, and there are many different styles. More than that, we improve over time. It's what all the writing blogs say, but it's true. I'd invite you right now to go look at my first posted chapter and then read the last one. There is a difference. If you're new out there, keep writing. Keep creating.

The last thing which I'd like to share is that community makes a huge difference. When I first started writing, it was me, myself, and I, and I know I have said this before, but was scared shitless to post anything at first. I was also (still am at times) a little nervous to interact with others because of what I write. However, I did it anyway, and I am so grateful. I posted my story, and eventually, I did join Tumblr. People found me, and I found people. Don't be afraid to reach out. (Be cautious, as always. This is the Internet, after all.) Find some people whose writing/art you like and reblog it, leave some notes, or comment on it. You'd be surprised about what turns up.

Most people I have interacted with here have been lovely and beautiful human beings and have been nothing but encouraging. They've both keyboard smashed with me in the good times and helped push me along the way when I have been in a rut. They've helped fuel me and supported me and if it weren't for them, who knows where I'd be now.

...And well, if you get a negative response...they weren't really worth talking to to begin with. (If you're looking for someone to talk to, here I am. Hi, I am Winter. It's nice to meet you.)

[deancaspinefest]

won't you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart?

Author: hisbrokenrainbowwings | Artist: galakitty Posting on Monday February 20

In an unprecedented union, the dragon and human kingdoms will officially join together as Prince Castiel of the Dragonlands is engaged to marry Prince Dean. After many years since their first meeting, the time has come for Castiel to make a new home in the Winchester kingdom. While Castiel is drawn to Dean and touched by his efforts to connect, he worries about fitting in with the humans. But while Castiel finds his assumptions and fears challenged by his growing affection for Dean, it seems that he may not be the only one keeping secrets. Will their differences tear Castiel and Dean apart – or bring them closer together?

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

The first man to reach him was lanky, long hair falling in his eyes as he stared down at Castiel. He slipped off his horse easily, displaying his full height. “Are you Prince Castiel?” Castiel nodded, bowing slightly in a gesture of respect. “Yes, I am. Who do I have the honor of addressing?” The man smiled politely. “Prince Samuel, at your service, but please call me Sam. You’ll forgive my brother for lagging behind, I hope. He’s been agonizing over the right thing to say, I’m sure he’s still going over it all right no – ooof!” The second rider caught up, stopping just short of Castiel and knocking Sam to the ground. It had to be Prince Dean. No other man would dare embarrass one of the crown princes in such a way. “Don’t listen to a word he says!” Prince Dean dismounted, out of breath with the effort of catching up. Castiel stifled a smile. The exploits of the Winchester princes were legendary, known for their fighting abilities and spell casting skills. Somehow, he hadn’t pictured them as /brothers/, first and foremost. Sam muttered to himself as he stood, dusting off his breeches. “Fine, have it your way. I’ll leave you to it.” He grabbed the reins of both horses, leading them away and giving Castiel his first real look at Prince Dean. His eyes were the same brilliant green Castiel remembered. Most importantly, they were full of warmth. Castiel noticed the prince’s hands were shaking slightly. Could he possibly be nervous? He dismissed the thought out of hand. What would one of the most talented mages in the country have to fear in Castiel, especially in this form? Prince Dean cleared his throat. “Prince Castiel, I am honored to welcome you to Winchester. Our people have long awaited your arrival. I know they’re eager to meet you, but I thought perhaps you might appreciate some privacy while you settle in.” He was earnest, even if his speech showed signs of being rehearsed. Castiel was accustomed to the carefully planned machinations of the human court. He responded in kind. “That is much appreciated, Your Grace. I am touched that you and your brother were here to welcome me. I had assumed I would be met by your council.” Prince Dean’s brow furrowed. “What? No, I… of course, I wanted to be here to greet you. You’re going to be… I mean, you and I… we’re getting married. And you’re… you.” Castiel didn’t know what to make of that. His mother had prepared him for being ignored until the wedding. Apparently, in most arranged marriages this was the custom. “Well, yes. We will be married soon. But I certainly would understand if you would rather not spend much time with me before then.” Hurt flashed across the prince’s face, confusing Castiel even more. “Oh, I… is that some sort of dragon custom? Because I don’t know about you, Cas, but I want to know everything about you before we tie the knot.” He groaned. “Ah, jeez, I’m sorry, it’s Your Highness, not Cas. I just kinda always thought of you as Cas in my head, it’s tough to break that habit. Anyways, if you don’t want to be with me before the wedding, well that’s fair, I’ll stay away. I mean, who am I to mess with tradition, or, oh god, make you uncomfortable. I just don’t know all that much about you, you know? I mean I know a lot about dragons, I’ve been studying you guys for years, not just you, specifically. And… now I’m rambling. I knew this would happen, I knew it… SAMMY could you please bring the box over now?”

Now Castiel was truly bewildered as the flustered prince waited for Sam to make his way over. He smirked at Prince Dean as he handed over a small wooden box that appeared to be hand-carved. “Nice job, Dean. Real smooth. Remind me to ask you for tips before Princess Jessica comes to live with us.” “Shut up,” Prince Dean hissed as Sam retreated back to the horses.

 [continue reading on Ao3 on Monday February 20]

[semper-legens]

46. In the Lives of Puppets, TJ Klune

Owned?: No, library Page count: 458 My summary: Victor always knew he was different. The son of an android, raised in the woods with no other humans for company, he grew up tinkering with electronics and rescuing other robots from the scrapyards. But when a new android crosses his path, and a whale-like ship descends from the heavens, Victor must brave the outside world to find his father and understand who he is. He can't be the only human left…can he? My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

Puppets! TJ Klune is an author who's been on my radar since I read The House in the Cerulean Sea, a cute bit of urban fantasy based around a foster home for magical children. I've been meaning to read more of his fiction, but never quite got around to it until this landed in my lap. In The Lives of Puppets is a take on the Pinnochio story, except a little bit more dystopic and set in a robot apocalypse. It's the kind of fairytale narrative I like - clearly inspired by the source material, but not necessarily a retelling or adaptation, using the base story of the source material to craft a new tale with similar themes. It was really interesting and, despite a few hiccups, an incredibly engaging story that I enjoyed immensely.

Victor is a good character. Broadly heroic, devoted to the people (well, robots) in his life, makes smart decisions but isn't perfect. I did have one quibble, which is how clumsily his asexuality was introduced - Klune is himself asexual, but the narrative really wanted you to know that Victor is too, basically doing the narrative equivalent of turning to camera and telling you directly. It's not bad, it's just a bit fumbling. Otherwise, though, he's an engaging protagonist. What I find interesting about him is that, ultimately, he just wants himself and his family to survive - this isn't a 'save the world' plot, this is a story of a boy who wants to keep those he loves together and safe, even if his mission does end in him helping the world at large as a byproduct. He's moral, but he's also uncompromising about his goal, just a kid who wants his dad back no matter what, and I liked that about him.

This is a really interesting take on the core Pinnochio story. There's a few obvious nods here and there - the robot Authority's logo is a cat and a wolf, the airship is called the Terrible Dogfish and looks like a whale, Victor is helped by the Blue Fairy, that sort of thing. But the core story is different. There is no personification of the idea of conscience (well, sort of - I'll get to it), Victor is the only human in a world of automatons rather than the other way around, and the story is less a curious/impetuous boy learning morality and more a coming of age narrative that's also a struggle for survival. One thing that interests me is that exactly who the Pinocchio figure is can be debated. Sure, there's Victor, grown in a lab by a paternalistic inventor, but there's also Hap, the android Victor fixes and gives a heart to who struggles to find his humanity against his background of being a literal killing machine. In the latter reading, Victor is the Jiminy Cricket figure, giving Hap a sense of morality and pulling him back into humanity - as well as providing a moral centre for the other robots, the sociopathic Nurse Ratched and the neurotic Rambo. It's a nice blend because the narrative doesn't give you a straight answer or a straightforward analogue; it's more interested in telling the story that it's here to tell, which I very much admire.

And the theme of humanity runs deep in this novel. All of the characters bar Victor are robots, but they're still very human. Gio, Victor's dad, began life designing machines to kill humans - HARPs, like Hap - but wound up creating a human life almost as a penance for what he had done. Hap was made to kill, but wants to be something more, something better, after seeing life with Victor and the others. Even Nurse Ratched, who seems to despise all living things albeit in an apathetic kind of way, loves Victor and wants him to be happy, and wants to protect him no matter what. There's some interesting symbolism going on with materials; Hap and Gio have both been repaired using wood, because that's the best Victor and Gio had on hand. Them being part-organic isn't brought up in terms of their morality - like humans, every robot has the ability to be moral, they just don't necessarily do it because of their biases. Even the less moral robots are still people! And it would be so easy to demonise even the murderous robots as inhuman, but no, they're the same as Victor, they're just made of wires and metal. Humanity is what you do, not what you are. A good moral for a Pinocchio story.

Next up…I have no excuses to make. It's more FNaF.

[theteethofgod]

Info-dump about Borasca. Please.

you do not need to ask me twice.

OKAY so Borrasca was originally posted to r/nosleep by rebecca klingle under the pseudonym c.k walker. this was before internet horror was really a thing and i kinda get the vibe that writers would use reddit as a place to post short form content with the intent of seeing what worked and what didn’t. the entire thing is still up on reddit and i recommend giving it a read (after you listen to the audio drama, the story is unchanged i just think the presentation is a lot more fun in audio form). klingle would go on to write for the haunting of hill house and bly manor so if you’ve seen those you know how fucking good this woman is.

from this point on: spoilers for borrasca (both seasons) and a general content warning for sexual abuse, human trafficking, drug addiction, forced pregnancy, and just about every other horrible thing you can imagine. i’m not gonna be getting heavy into that stuff but just be mindful if you are going to go and listen to it. it’s worth noting that these things are treated with the weight they deserve and if you’re mindful of your personal triggers you will probably be fine. it is not especially graphic or superfluous with it but it is integral to the plot so if that’s something you don’t want to engage with you should probably give the entire thing a miss.

so we follow Sam, a heroin addicted ex-con, as he is convinced to tell the story of how he ended up here to his parole officer. he keeps insisting that she won’t believe him, that no one has ever wanted to help him, etc etc, he’s a sad lonely dude. she insists otherwise - promising to at least listen (we love her she’s the best). his story begins when his family moves to a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, due to his dad’s new position as sheriffs deputy (we hate him). as soon as he arrives at his new house he meets Kyle and Kimber who become his best friends. he also has a sister called whitney who is very stereotypical older sister energy (clothes, shopping, boys, get out of my room loser, you know the deal). anyway, kyle and kimber tell sam about this urban legend about the Skinned Men who come down from the mountains and kidnap people whose names are scratched into the bark of this huge tree (called the triple tree). the skinned men take their victims up the mountain to meet the Shiny Gentleman, who makes this awful screaming noise when he kills them. this legend comes from a deafening grinding shrieking noise that can be heard at random throughout the town. each night after the scream is heard the teenagers in town throw a “borrasca party” up at this huge treehouse built on the triple tree. everyone is kind of aware that people go missing at an alarming rate but “that’s just how it goes around here”.

soon whitney goes missing and sam starts looking for borrasca, not believing his dad who insists that she ran away to be with some boy. there’s a bunch of clues that they’re following that slowly start to unravel a huge conspiracy going all the way back to the beginning of the town and all the way up to government and law enforcement bodies.

right when they’re getting close to the truth kimber and her dad disappear. she left the funeral of her mother who committed suicide to look for the note than she’s sure she would have left her, convinced that she did it out of guilt for whatever is going on in the town. she finds the note but is taken before she can get it to anyone. kyle, who is in love with her, and sam, who feels guilty for her disappearance as he was the one who was obsessed with finding his sister are both driven to the brink by this and they finally push far enough to find borrasca. what they find is a series of building set up around and abandoned mine with a huge ore grinding machine set right in the middle. they watch as two cops throw the body of a woman into the machine, causing the screaming sound as it crushes her into powder - the shiny gentleman. they manage to break into the buildings are are met with rooms and rooms of beds with women chained to them. some pregnant, all sedated. sam finds whitney, she reacts with fear at the sight of him and he can’t understand why. spoiler: sam’s dad (who he looks identical to) moved to the town specifically to get involved with the trafficking ring - he sold his daughter to them when he found out she had a boyfriend as a means of “having her to himself”. we HATE him. kyle finds kimber and frees her.

the guy in charge, jimmy prescott (we HATE him too) confronts sam - eerily calmly. and explains that many years ago when the mine was imploded a bunch of metal leaked into the water table and rendered the entire town infertile. they started kidnapping fertile women from other towns, impregnating them, and then selling the babies to the townspeople. but once they got a taste of the money things got bigger and bigger - people would sell their girlfriends, daughters, wives etc. they would sell babies to the incredibly rich. getting powerful people in their pocket by doing so. they had essentially made themselves untouchable as so many people had implicated themselves. prescott explains that most of the children in town come from himself or kleary (ex sheriff) and that anyone in the town whose name began with P was a child of the prescott line, and any name with a K was a child of the Kleary line - designed to stop inbreeding. it’s so fucked up man.

while this is being explained the cops drag kyle into the room. they ask him to tell them where kimber is, he refuses. they cave his skull in and give sam the option of staying there and failing to save his sister or drive kyle down the mountain to save his life. sam chooses the latter but by the time he arrives at the hospital the cops have circulated the lie that sam attacked kyle. he is run out of town and never makes it back to borrasca to save anyone. he can’t live with the guilt and turns to drugs.

his PO believes him, is horrified at what he has been through, and contacts her colleagues in the sex crimes division only to be met with immediate push back and refusal to investigate which she claims is highly unusual. meanwhile, sam returns home and kimber is waiting for him. he hasnt heard from her in almost a decade and now she’s at his door with a trunk full of guns, an uneasy alliance with jimmy prescott (he wants sam’s dad cut out of the “family business”, kimber wants his dad dead, they both know that once he’s out of the picture one of them will kill the other) and the firm belief that kyle’s “brain dead” status that his family have declared is actually just heavy sedation so that he can’t talk about what he saw. sam is withdrawing from heroin, knows nothing about this alliance, and believes that he allowed kyle to be killed. it is not going to go well

ultimately they find borrasca again, trick jimmy, kill sam’s dad, save kyle (kimber was right), and manage to get their hands on the server that stores all of the “business” information about the trafficking ring. they get the whole thing shut down then all go to college together, like they said they would when they were kids.

this is a very brief and poorly written overview of the whole story but i seriously recommend giving it a listen. the production is fantastic and the cast are all very talented and really make you care about the characters. i’ve listened to it twice over now and both times ive been unable to stop once i started - even when i knew where it was going. a lot of breaking generational curses which, if you’re familiar with klingle’s more mainstream stuff, you’ll understand is very much her area. fuck sam’s dad.

[kickhopper]

please tell me about sci fi media you like :3c

Prey (2017) is probably my favorite Sci-fi game of all time, and it's somewhere around my top 10 or 20 overall games, too. Waking up on a space station where something has gone wrong with no memory of events leading up to that moment, you're let loose in one big interconnected facility to piece together what went wrong, and if there's anything that can be done to stop things from getting even worse. It's got tense atmosphere that sometimes borders on horror, with enemies that make it difficult to even trust the objects around you. There's a lot of exploration of how memory and identity intertwine, morality and empathy, and what it really means to be human. I'm always a sucker for stories that grapple with philosophical issues, especially when they ask you, the player, to make decisions that don't necessarily have a right or wrong answer -- asking you to interrogate your own beliefs to come up with something that YOU think is right. That's all wrapped up in Arkane's signature style of immersive sim, where you get the freedom of choice that the genre is known for but streamlined in a way that makes it feel so accessible and natural in comparison to the forerunners of the genre. Top that all off with a soundtrack by Mick Gordon, one of my favorite game composers of all time, who brings an electronic soundtrack that is often foreboding and laded with dread, but also manages to capture the wonder of what this place you're in once was. It's often overshadowed by Arkane's other games, Dishonored and Deathloop -- which are good in their own right -- but I really do think it might be the best game they've ever made. It's a game I really think that just about everyone should play, it's that good.

I was planning to talk about other games, but that got kinda long so I'll lightning round them:

Unsighted is an adventure/exploration game that's akin to a more movement focused 2D Zelda, where you play as an android in a world where the substance that keeps synthetic life sane has become scarce after the source of it was sealed off, leaving the city to fall to ruins. You and every other character in the game are on a clock that's constantly ticking down until you go "Unsighted", but by finding resources you can extend the time any android has left -- do you hoard everything for yourself? Do you give only to the people who are useful enough that you need to keep them around? Or do you try to do the impossible and save everyone, even though you'll no doubt stretch yourself thin? The timed element can be turned off if you really can't stomach the pressure, but I think the tension it adds to the experience is something so special that you'd be doing yourself a disservice unless it really would make it unplayable for you.

2064: Read Only Memories is a cyberpunk point-and-click mystery about what it would mean for machines to pass the horizon of sentience. You play as a journalist who finds a robot at their door, sent by an old friend of theirs for safe-keeping. That sets off a chain of events that will see you unraveling the mystery of what happened to your friend, discovering this robot seems to be something more than a mere machine, and ultimately determining what the future will look like by the decisions that you make. Great music, good characters with engaging designs, a style that evokes retro adventure games but brought into the modern era, and a web of intrigue to untangle.

Hopefully at least one of these sparks your interest enough to check it out!

[skybristle]

Would .. would you mind telling us about your clover fanon.. I am so very curious they’re my darling ever

sorry i read this and went "i should answer that" and then i forgor. i just rembdered though! some fucked up themes tho. animal death + general mommy issues and he has some Mental Problems <3 also off the bat. he's Soooo unlabeled to me but uses he/him and kisses boys. i dont think he really cares abt the pronouns though either hes literally just hanging out. ok so! First and foremost. The reason he is Like That is because he is [sparkling emoji] one of white lily's experiments! Particularly she took a deer from the millenial forest [holy animal], sacrificed it, and baked it into a cookie [she left the lily villiage at some point in the past but knows the forest's secrets still so. lol]. however he didn't really turn out and the powers he Did get from it aren't replicable,,, at this point she hasnt gone Completely off the deep end so she doesnt completely abandon him like she does for crepe later but he Did feel fundamentally unwanted and kind of just. Left her grove seeking to fufill what she wanted out of him [not realizing he's a failure by principle no matter what he does] he is by most means a wanderer. picks up his lute, grows fond of the forest animals as he travels along [avoiding villiages because well. he is kind of a freak of nature and also just general Tism makes him seem like much more of a possibly ill-willed cryptid than he is]. he has a very strong desire to become what his mom wanted from him but also develops an appreciation for the world and wants to see more of it. eventually finds himself in the millenial forest [and lily villiage],,, and while they do welcome him its clear with the way they look at him he is the Outsider and very fucked up . eventually speaks to millenial himself and he takes pity on him and gives him what he wants [immortality] so he can live up to his purpose and keep traveling the world. Eventually as a bard once he realizes thats a thing that exists. and honestly once he comes to terms with how he'll never have a relationship with his mom [the lily grove, a mess of illusions, doesnt really let him in deep enough to where she is] he just doesnt hang onto it and does what he planned to. he has to bear the horrors of immortality but honestly it isnt,,, too terrible with his aloof nature? Like. Immortal or not he's perfectly used to his animal companions dying over time and he mostly has superfiicial relationships with other cookies. i'd say the worse thing for him is he's very,,, distant a lot. it's also part of the learned mentality of a bard/storyteller [watch what happens and remember it instead of engaging in it] and learning Things Hurt once they go away in his immortality. he's been around 2-300 years and is mostly just chill. has leaned into that cryptic guy of the woods thing a bit. he really is just hanging out. he's also probably a little traumatized from all the shit hes bore witness to [especially the dfw when he put together the dots of wl's experiments and de's goals] but idk. he just generally does not caare. he eats poisonous mushrooms for fun ebcause theyr'e yummy and dont effect him because he's immortal/in a weird position of being almost divine with what he's made of. also some time post canon he meets a mostly-human robot [copperbell, my wife's oc] who's seeing the world for the first time after being trapped in the city of wizards up until very recently. they hang out a lot. two immortal guys very passionate about music who hang out. one who's very passionate for the world and one who wants to know so much about it . yeah they're yaoi eventually . the machine and nature CAN have gay sex WOOO

[master-of-fluff]

The Sad Life of a Gummy Shark. By Hobie Brown

(Crackfic because of a rp so probably very ooc 😭)

Life of a gummy shark. By Hobie Brown.

(About 600 to 700 words I think)

"One day Nom the gummy shark realized that her mothers child support (because most sharks apparently lay their eggs and then abandon their babies) wasn't coming in and when she asked the gummy shark child support bank or whatever, it turned out that her mother was missing and most likely dead.

Well as the oldest it was now her job to provide for her and her gummy shark siblings.

So she went to find a job.

and then a capitalist gummy shark came across Nom and saw that she didn't know anything about gummy shark child labor laws nor did Nom have any gummy shark parents to teach her of them.

so he gave Nom a job in the gummy shark mines

Nom worked very hard to provide for herself and her siblings, making sure to dig the most out of all his employees. But did her gummy boss see this young gummy shark and reward her for her hard work and bravery?

No! he worked her harder, kept 90% of the money she earned him and gave her barely enough to survive.

Nom worked for that peice of shit for weeks blinded by his perceived kindness of letting her work even though she was so young. She practically living at her job. Until one day she couldn't.

On the way home one day Nom collapsed from exhaustion, and a shady old wrinkled gummy shark abducted her and as it turns out that shady gummy shark was a gummy shark trafficker because the next time Nom woke up she was in a gummy shark snack bag with other young trafficked gummy sharks. Shaking fearfully and waiting to be eaten.

Worrying about her siblings, unbeknownst to her that not only had they already died of starvation without her earnings to live off of. But that she was also about to meet the same fate as her mother."

Hobie pauses "Oh oops well now she knows" he says, reaching into the bag to take 'Nom' out.

"and now that she does, all her will to live is gone"

Hobbie makes his voice high pitched "“please give me the sweet relief of death” she says. And as that is the only mercy left I shall do the humane thing and grant it to her" and with that Hobie pops Nom into his mouth and swallows her whole.

Hobie now turns to face the rest of the spider variants who've unfortunately picked today of all days to eat lunch with him, most of which looking at him in exasperation or wondering if Hobie has visited weed spiderman recently.

"Every day a tragic story like nom's plays out.

If you or a loved one have ever bought or eaten a gummy shark please remember that the fault doesn't lie with you, the consumer who just wanted a good snack. And that even though you've commited gummy shark murder, you can still make amends.

Its because of the capitilists greed and want to make money; both from their trafficking and from the shark hate propaganda that allows them to make movies like 'Jaws' to make money, and thus promote more shark hate propoganda in an endless cycle even though statistically your more likely to die from a vending machine or a mosquito then a Shark, that makes this atrocious thing possible.

But you can put a stop to it, both by educating yourself on sharks of all kinds and engaging in anarchy against the enemy!!!! Together we can save our very endangered shark friends and avenge Nom's family!!!

Thank you for coming, and if your not punching facists or capitilists then I hope your here next week for 'why gummy worms are an invasive species and should be eaten.' by Hobie Brown."

And with that Hobie heads home, leaving everyone at the lunch table to wonder what the fuck is wrong with him.

[redtalksaboutstuffandthings]

Yesterday a man asked me if I, presumably also a man, thought that painting my nails made me do my job better. Now, he was being a little shitter, and that was far from the only (or the worst) thing he said to a complete stranger, but none of that is important. What's important is that, upon reflection, I can now safely say this: yes, in my opinion, painting my nails does have tangible benefits for me when I do my job. Behold, my not at all exhaustive list:

1: Painting my nails helps contribute to a clean, uniform look. My nails sometimes grow unevenly, and those awkward white stripes where the quick ends can be garish. In order to fix that, I often had to trim my nails on a near constant basis, especially since nails of any length seem to attract dirt. Polish solves all these problems, turning my nails into one lovely, solid color. Some people might find that objectionable, but dirt under the fingernails is something that many people latch onto almost immediately, and there's only so many times in a day I can wash my hands.

2: Bright colors attract the eye. Nail polish naturally draws your gaze towards my hands. As an employee, I consider it very important that you see the work I do for you, that you see that I'm not merely lazing through the day, collecting my paycheck. Likewise, it's important for you that you see what my hands are doing, in case I... do embezzlement, or whatever bad things employees do when the customer's not looking.

3: Nail polish is just one small, inconsequential way I assert my humanity. I spend large chunks of my life in uniform. The purpose of uniforms is to anonymize, to allow the people who pass through my place of business to see me as little more than a machine of commerce who it's okay to yell at. I am not a machine, and if you engage me as a person, I will happily engage back. If it will help you recognize I'm a person, you can look to my hands, and see that I made a decision. A decision not based in cold, robotic efficiency, but instead in joy and love and control of the self, like many of the decisions you make.

In short, while I absolutely don't need a valid reason to put paint on my fingernails, and I sure as hell don't need to give an explanation for it, I now have it. The power that I now have over that random person who talked to me, yesterday, is immense, and it only makes it all the more tragic that I'll never speak to him again. Godspeed, you incomprehensible stain on my day! Perhaps one day you, too, will learn of the power of paint.

[martamdxcontextualstudies]

The Dangers Of AI Art

Human vs Machine 

How do artists show their interpretation of this idea?

Istallations, interactive art pieces

Dangers of AI

Why is this art form so popular?

Why is it causing so much harm to independent artists?

Why is it so harmful?

What can we do to stop it before its influence grows beyond our control?

Is it actual art?

Can it replace artists?

What are the negative impacts of the dark side of artificial intelligence?

The Dangers of AI Art (studybreaks.com)

By Kristen Kalebich, Arizona State University

“Many apps, software and websites allow AI to generate art, and all they need is access to the internet, key words or phrases and sometimes a picture.”

“Artists seem to be engage in a losing battle”

“AI art often uses pieces of a person’s artwork and implements them into the new image without giving proper credit.”

“The generator plagiarises.”

“AI art pulls and meshes similar images found online.” 

It doesn’t really find inspiration for a certain art piece like most artists would. AI also doesn’t have a particular style, colour palette or median that it focus is on. It hasn;t spend years developing a style or an idea like an artist would. 

It lacks originality. And the emotional factor which is often how art bring attention to the viewer. As humans we can often feel the painting when looking at it. 

“AI struggles to implement these emotions into an image because it is guided by instructions and commands rather than complicated, subjective feelings.”

“What started as a harmless generator used to create fun and colourful art has become detrimental for artists.”

Create Something Amazing - NightCafe Creator

AI generator

Stable Diffusion

A next-generation text-to-image algorithm

DALL E 2 

From OpenAI, an advanced text-to-image algorithm

Coherent (CLIP-Guided Diffusion)

More control and better composition than Artistic

Artistic (VQGAN+CLIP)

Create beautiful images from a text prompt

Style Transfer

Turn your photo into a masterpiece

It has a bunch of different art styles that you are able to choose from before generating the images:

Nightcafe, artistic portrait, anime, hyperreal, 3D game, pop up, photo, ect

Algorithm: Stable

Model: Stable Diffusion v1.5

Text Prompt: Dog sitting on a couch looking out the window

Style: Oil Painting

Algorithm: Stable

Model: State Diffusion v1.5

Text Prompt: Group of bees sitting on a flower about to be attacked by wasps

Style: Hyperreal

Text To Image - AI Image Generator API | DeepAI

Text Prompt: Battle of the Crayfish

Style: Fantasy

Style: Cyberpunk

Style: Comic

Style: Impressionism

To me AI is an idea i find quite terrifying. We have seen so many movies about robots and computers taking over its not hard to see it as science fiction. But with the way technology is evolving so rapidly, it could quite easily replace us. From artists, to writers, graphic designers, photographers, AI can easily replace all of them. Leaving people who love their professions and have spend years building up their careers with nothing.

The Dark Side of Artificial Intelligence Art and its Impacts (analyticsinsight.net)

By Geetha Malathkar, November 29 2022

“New and exciting”, “gaining popularity quick”

“Potentioal for AI art used for polictical propaganda, to create fake art and to infringe on copyrights.”

“AI can now create realistic images, videos and even sculptures.”

“Sometimes indistinguishable from art created by humans” 

“Because AI is powered by data, it is biased against underrepresented groups. For example, if an AI is trained on a data set of predominantly white male faces, it will more likely create art that is biased towards white male faces. This could lead to a future where the art world is dominated by biased AI created work.”

“This could lead to united consequences like the ones we have seen with discriminatory recruiting algorithms and microsoft’s twitter chatbox that became racist.”

“As companies build AI algorithms, they need to be developed and trained responsibly.”

Ai also massively reduces the time it takes to create pieces of art. In order to create the art i used in the ai generator, i had to type in a few keywords that best described he image I want to achieve. It also gave me a large variety of art styles I could chose from to get my ideal result. All those images combined took around 10 minutes to create. A significantly shorter amount of time it would take me to illustrate the same prompt by hand. 

Although this could be somewhat beneficial to a lot of companies, it would completely rock the art world off its feet. 

There is also a much larger chance of being hacked when using Ai generator programs. Behind each successful AI generator there is a programmer. It could be quite easy for them to input a series of codes and “take advantage of AI systems” that ultimately could lead them to getting into your hardware much easier. 

CYBERARTS 2016

Prix Ars Electronic

Starts Prize '16

"The digital revolution that was recognisable on the horizon decades ago... Now constitutes the mainstream in media, business and politics." (pg 10)

"Dissatisfaction and mistrust are widespread" (pg 10)

"The artists and scientists involved in this project are not only paving the way for new developments, but also opening up totally new ways regarding the role of science in our society and the interplay of technology and nature." (pg 10)

"On the social level, this is a matter of new positive future scenarios of new social models, which are the approaches to a process of rethinking that seeks ways for us to livewell without growth." (pg 10)

INFERNO (pg 74-75)

Louis-Phillippe Dewers, Bill Vorn

"Participative robotic performance inspired by the concept of control."

"Bodies are handed to eternal and external forces controlling them."

"Shifting the exoskeletons command from the authors, to the computers and to the performers."

"Inferno questions the nature of control either mechanic or human."

"Also addresses recurrent issues revolving around the human-robot symbiotic relationships."

"Wearing or being entrapped in a robotic entity recalls the concept of the cyborg that emerged in the late 80s."

PATHFINDER (pg 82-83)

Generative approach for conceptional choreography

Qnformative in collaboration with Christian Loclair

"Generates and projects abstract shapes into space in order to simulate Danzers exploration."

"Digital approach to the conceptual research of Dance."

"Choreographers can adjust certain parameters of the algorithm - such as speed, complexity, or the geometry of objects."

"Pathfinder expands the idea of creative collaboration by integrating an intelligent digital entity to an artistic process."

[shroom-ish]

I‘ve always toyed around with the idea of the „Great American Novel“ since I had several forced upon me by a variety of English teachers. It struck me… how… shallow is not the right word, but they always felt such a bare and dismal reflection of the America I know. And I suppose that is why the genre essentially doesn’t exist. The America that these authors knew is not the one that I know. And I suppose that makes sense as a mixed queer person who came of age on the precipice of an utter revolution of how information is stored and disseminated and controlled. Also as a fanfic writer, I‘ve also had a penchant for love stories. I don’t think anyone takes them near seriously enough and I think that‘s a detriment to us all.

I have an idea of the things I want to say and where I want to go, but while the subtitle of the concept has been „I want HP Lovecraft to spitroast in his grave“ I feel it would be somewhat disrespectful and nowhere near as effective if I never returned to the original material. I‘ve interacted heavily with a lot of derivative and related works but I have never really engaged seriously with HP’s own work. I think it was Disco Elysium that reminded me of the reason I like stories like this.

Something about the way that human experience itself is so alien because true empathy is impossible. The way that the unknown is terrifying but also, other people are inherently unknowable. Consciousness itself is an eldritch being of it‘s own and to try and deny the power of ideas and words when they are wielded in ways you disagree with is to give up before you have even begun. The world had always been a scary place but it is always simpler to invent a boogeyman and scapegoat for the horror we all harbor within ourselves. Every human atrocity was committed by a portion of humanity, no more special or different than any other moving part of the machine.

Conversely, every human good was committed by a portion of humanity. The beast within us has always had a softer side. A patient side. A loving side. And I don‘t think we can evolutionarily rise up on the back of cooperation and mutual good without taming the parts of us that wish to indulge only in selfish self interest. Every where you look there are helpers. There are optimists. There are people who refuse to give up on the good in all of us even as the modern world tries to bury it deep down where we can‘t find it.

So who knows, maybe I end up with crappy lesbian pulp fiction. But hopefully, I want to end up with the complicated picture of humanity that I have come to know in today‘s America.

P.S.

If anyone has suggestions for good things for me to experience alongside any of these other things let me know!!!

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Hello! Could you tell me what you see about my SM/future spouse? Where they are from? What line of work they are in? What physical and personality traits? Thanks! 🐛🐣

Sure! Let’s see what spirit wants you to know. Interestingly every question you asked actually has nothing to do with who they are. All are very 3D based. It’s curious people want to know what their soul mate does for work and not if they love what they do, or want to know what they look like, not what they love most about themselves.

For some reason your ask is prompting this message but this is what spirit means by being human. None of these questions speak to your soulmates essence or what lights them up. And you aren’t the only one to ask this so I’m not trying to like sold you. I just think it highlights vast areas for expansive growth in how people engage with and think about the world and other people. This type of ask indicates there is still a lot of work to do around deprogramming and shedding societal expectations. How you see the world is limited by your own perception and this ask shows me that.

Which immediately gives me the image of an eye doctor, ironically I think your soul mate may be working in a field where they help people literally see clearer (funny because it’s metaphoric). Maybe you also do this but in other ways like with this ask. But yeah, I see them in the eye exam room like tinkering with the machine to help someone get the closest to perfect vision they can. They like this work, I feel like they walk lighter, they like knowing that they are helping people see the world and feel a lot of purpose isn’t their job. They may have a small family practice, they seem to be on a small team that feels like a family and they feel very settled and content with what they do,

Message from soulmate:

I see you! Haha. (They have a good sense of humor very much punchline). But yeah I do help people with vision but I don’t really have visions. I’m pretty straight and narrow, not really spiritual, but I do figure the right person will come along when it’s time. People keep wondering where the spouse is because I’m very settled. I’m not sure where they are, but I just keep focusing on me, I love what I do and who I work with, I go to the gym, which is very fulfilling—I was very scrawny in high school— and I just try to enjoy nature. I have a dog—Australian shepherd, and I spend a lot of time with my niece, it’s my sisters daughter. She’s the apple of my eye, I can’t wait to have kids of my own one day! (They feel very peaceful and grounded and content) I have a nice house that’s just missing you. Maybe one day. Hope we find each other soon. Xoxo —John, Jimmie, James, (some basic J name) Jacob, Jesse? Something

This song came up, probably because of the name Jesse lol, but it may have a message.

I’m not gonna lie, half way through this reading I was distracted by a thought, so I feel like maybe you are distracted as well, that focusing on your soulmate is a distraction, I wrote a poem about romanticizing interactions and I wonder if that may be something you do or should look at? Do you remember things as more mythic or memorable than it truly was. To keep the story interesting and alive?

Druid Craft Tarot

Eight of cups, reversed— “you might have considered leaving a situation or relationship, but the time to leave has not yet come, fear of intimacy or commitment, resisting spending time alone, emotional exhaustion”

Hmm I wonder if that whole me getting distracted thing was like a redirect to your energy because this feels like a message for you and not about your soulmate. They seem really set, are you the one who knows you need to take action and make a change but haven’t? Do you struggle to spend time alone? 8 usually deals with business and abundance and cups deal with emotion so reversed I get the sense it feels like your abundance has been poured out and it’s empty and maybe that’s why you fear making a change, you’re scared to have even less than you do now, but that mindset is holding you back and trapping you in self fulfilling prophecies.

Queen of Swords, upright— “a need to be objective, an intellectual endeavor, success in communications, exams, writing, politics or debates”

Yeah this need to be objective goes back to you romanticizing things. The Queen of Swords is like very much a boss bitch. Swords are air and air represents the mind, this queen has her logic and mental reasoning on point and she uses her cunning and wit to create opportunities for success. Interesting I found myself writing a poem and this comes out, do you write? I think this is saying if you can make the hard decision, you will come out of as Queen of Swords, someone with new wisdom and insight and their head screwed on right.

Hope this helps! Let me know if it resonates.

[wheelsup]

kissing lessons

summary: one of your classic movie nights with spencer turns into a learning opportunity

A/N: this is really fluffy, but the whole story centers around kissing. use your own judgement! i’d say it’s at worst 16+

category: spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff (with a bit of spice)  best friends to lovers (sorta)

warnings: just kissing, a brief implication at the end

word count: 3k

Occasionally, the team will spend an extra night in their hotel before heading home from a case. Be it due to poor weather conditions, or the fact that your case wrapped in the dead of night, the reasons for flying don’t ever matter. Because the majority of the times when you have to stay that extra night, you and Spencer have sleepovers.

The routine is pretty much the same. You’ll stock up on gas station snacks – sour peach rings for Spencer, salted microwave popcorn for you – and reconvene in one of your hotel rooms. Preferably, whichever of you got the better deal that week – a bigger tv, a room further away from the ice machine. And you’d rent the cheapest movie available on-demand, the options spanning from low-budget sci-fi to poorly written rom-coms. That night, the viewing fell under the latter category.

Spencer perched at the foot of your bed with both feet tucked under his legs, criss-cross style, while you laid against the headboard to watch. Every now and then, you tossed out your commentary and he’d ignore it. He always says you’re too critical of movies and you’re of the belief that he’s too forgiving.

“I don’t think they should end up together,” you mumbled, words slurring around your mouthful of popcorn. You pulled a face right as the movie approached the romantic climax, after spending the past ninety minutes actively rooting against the couple. Spencer ignored you, pretending to be engrossed in the movie to spite your disparagement of it. “They both suck.”

You groaned, slumped further against the pillows, and shoved your sock-clad toes under Spencer’s left thigh in a call for attention. He jumped at the intrusion, but ultimately, your efforts were futile.

And then the big kiss commenced, and your booing finally piqued his interest. “Gross! I feel bad for people who kiss like that.”

A small bell went off in his head and he took a curious glance at you over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He stopped chewing and the piece of candy in his mouth pushed out his cheek, giving him an adorably innocent look. His brows scrunched in the middle and his nose had a tiny crinkle in it, utterly confused.

You scoffed and matched his expression. “Are you serious?” You jerked your head in the direction of the television and Spencer whipped his head back, squinting. He couldn’t figure out what you were pointing out, what it was that was so obviously wrong to you. “Spencer, he’s swallowing her chin!”

Oh. He hadn’t noticed.

Feeling dumb, he muttered, “I thought that’s how you’re supposed to kiss…” It wasn’t the deepest confession to admit to you that he lacked some knowledge when it came to kissing, but he still refused to look at you as he said it.

“Spencer, please tell me you haven’t been kissing people like that.” You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, sitting up straighter in bed. He shrugged and lowered his head, focusing on his snack as his fingers dug into the packet of gummy rings in his lap.

He popped another piece into his mouth, pretending to be occupied with eating so as to avoid your prying. “I dunno.”

It didn’t occur to you until that moment that Spencer might have learned everything he knows about kissing – among other things – solely through watching movies. How else could he look at that and think it’s normal? And you’re left wondering if he’s ever even practiced it with another living human. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but unfortunately, that only heightened your interest. You had to know.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You kept your voice low, your tone implying that you were ready to exchange this secret with him. You wouldn’t judge him if he admitted he hadn’t.

He scoffed loudly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you’re positive he rolled his eyes too. “Yeah, of course.” Then quietly, he added on, “But it was only like… for four seconds.”

You nodded thoughtfully, considering how this new piece of information adjusted your existing view of Spencer. For some reason, you couldn’t tell if you actually expected him to be experienced or not.

He didn’t exactly scream that he’d… gotten around, for lack of better words, but you’re still surprised to learn that he’s barely done it at all. You supposed he was objectively cute, that maybe you could see it if he weren’t your best friend. And yeah, he’s a little awkward, but he’s smart and kind, so he has three great things going for him, and you’re surprised more people haven’t swooped him up yet.

Your lips curled down in thought, brows raised in curiosity. “And was it good?” It was a genuine enough question, because you’ve never really thought about Spencer Reid and kissing in the same sentence before. As it turned out, there was a lot of missing information relating to those two things.

“I don’t know! I didn’t get, like, a feedback form,” he grunted, angling his shoulder even further away from you. If you could’ve seen him, you’d notice his face boiling and turning red with heat. All this inquiring made him think harder about his … talents … than he’s ever had to before, and he’s not a fan.

You were prepared to do some more digging when the slump in his back made you feel a tinge of guilt. It was your fault he looked so defeated. You pressed too hard, disregarding his boundaries just because you wanted to know more. And now, he was wondering if there was something wrong with him, because you wouldn’t leave it alone.

He barely noticed as you swung your feet from under his thigh and rocked onto your knees, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with your palm. It hauled his attention out of his thoughts and back into the room. You wanted to apologize, but instead you settled with “I’m sure you’re fine, Spence.”

He nodded unconvincingly. By the glow of the screen, you could see he was still gnawing on the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes as he played with a loose hangnail on one of his fingers. It made you feel even worse. “Are you actually worried about it?” you asked, laden with concern.

“What if I am bad at it?” He whispered, like saying it too loud would make it true. “And that’s why it’s only happened once?”

A large exhale puffed out of your nose as you weighed your options.

You could go back to your original plan and apologize for setting him down this path of doubt. But that wouldn’t do anything to stop him from worrying, anyway. You could tell him there’s no correlation between the way he kisses and how frequently it’s happened; that you’re sure the reason isn’t because he’s bad. But you don’t know that for sure.

So, fuck it, you thought, grabbing a fistful of his pajama shirt and tugging him closer to you roughly, pressing your lips onto his.

This way, you’d at least have an informed opinion to be able to tell him if he was good or bad.

His lips were softer than you expected – not that you’d thought about them often, they’re just impossibly softer than they look – and invitingly warm. But they were completely stiff.

You could tell he was trying to kiss you back by the way his mouth ferociously moved over yours. He was trying to be a passionate, engaged partner, but he forgot about the aspect of tenderness.

His lips felt like two solid objects just sliding around on your face. They didn’t move in any sort of accordance with yours. There was no push and pull, your lips didn’t mesh perfectly together to form a solitary unit as they moved in unison.

It felt more like his lips were your opponent, putting up an attack and defense play against the actions of your own.

You pulled away, resisting a giggle at his bewildered face. “You’re not so terrible,” you swipe the corner of your mouth, smudged with Spencer’s flavored chapstick, “But it could use some work.”

He was at a loss for words, mouth gaping open as his eyes darted around the room and all over you. Maybe he’d find an explanation for what just happened carved into the walls somewhere or written across your forehead.

What happened was that you kissed him. And he was a little bit bad. Simple as that.

“I-I wasn’t ready!” he stammered, chucking up his hands defensively. He’d process the fact that he’d just made out with his best friend at a later time, right now the bigger concern was the slight cringed look on your face. He sulked and folded his arms.“What was so bad about it?”

“Well,” you scratched the back of your ear, trying to gauge if he’d react well to getting some advice, “my first tip would be to relax your lips.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And don’t think too hard. You should react to what’s happening in the moment, not worrying about what your next move is gonna be.” You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to envision what that would play out like in a real situation. “You wanna try again?” you offered, figuring he’d learn much faster if he was more hands-on about it.

He nodded, and you leaned in close, waiting for him to go for it. His heart quickened under the pressure of performance, eyes screwing shut as he closed the gap. His mouth smashed into yours as he dove in hard. It was toeing on the side of too harsh, but you let that one slide in hopes it was just a byproduct of his nerves.

You had to tap his knee to remind him to relax, and he loosened some of the tension he had in his lips. He slotted his between yours, allowing them to be pliable to your movements and remembering to react, not plan.

He moved his mouth leisurely against yours, trying to match your pressure and pacing. They actually started moving in time with yours at some point. The kiss took on a shape of its own as he started getting out of his head, letting himself enjoy the kiss for what it was in that exact moment.

It was already better than before. Leaps and bounds better. But then he tried to deepen it, building on its intensity but adding more… something into it. You couldn’t even tell what it was he was trying to do.

“Okay, second tip…” you inhaled sharply, pushing him off of you with a palm against his chest. Whatever it was, it needed to stop. “You kinda do this thing like… where you’re blowing air into my mouth?” You scrunched your nose, punctuating your dislike. “That feels weird. Don’t do that. If anything, do the opposite.”

“I’m supposed to suck the air out of your mouth?” His face contorted, voice already slightly exasperated. He barely understood what the air thing was that you claimed he did. He didn’t realize in the process of trying to add pressure to the kiss, he was just forcibly blowing against your mouth.

“Not literally, no.” You laughed a little, rubbing your palm in a comforting pattern on his chest.”But you can use your lips to suck on mine, or my tongue… just nothing involving the exchange of breath. We’re not in CPR training.”

He eased up a little with your joke, adjusting to your advice he gave it another try. After a few moments, he latched onto your bottom lip with his own, sucking it softly into his mouth. “Yeah, like that,” you mumbled against him, voice pitching high in encouragement. He sucked on it with a little more greed, holding it for a second, then eased up, varying the pressure of his movements just like you did before.

You made a mental note to praise him for that at a later time, deciding to instead part your lips to see if he’d venture into further experimentation.

He caught on quickly. He parted them further, prodding his tongue against them as you opened to allow him entry. Just as you started to really enjoy it, he ran his tongue over the inside of your mouth, moving it fast and roughly like he was a washing machine.

“Stop,” you grimaced, tearing away quickly. You had to swipe your hand over your mouth to get rid of the excess saliva that really shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place, given how brief the frenching was. “Your tongue is way too aggressive.”

Overwhelmed, he tilted his head to the ceiling and let out a frustrated grunt, slapping his hands down to the top of his thighs.

There were too many factors to worry about. He had no idea how you looked at him with a straight face and told him not to think too much when there were a million things he needed to remember all at once; he needed to vary his moves to keep it interesting, but make sure he’s not ruining the flow by changing things up too much, and to be gentle but not timid.

All of this was second nature to you, but it was brand new to Spencer. Could you really blame him for not getting the hang of it right away? You decided to stop your list of critiques short for this round to spare him. He’d get there eventually, but not if he felt discouraged too soon.

“I don’t see why people like it in the first place,” he huffed, his head returning to it’s normal posture. In Spencer’s eyes, there truly wasn’t any appeal to kissing with tongue; it looked sloppy and unnecessary, and as you’d just confirmed, it actually was.

You thought about his statement for a second. There’s a certain allure to it, and you didn’t know how to describe it to him. So instead you cupped his cheeks in both your palms and slid your mouth over his again. As his jaw slacked its tension, you slowly pushed your tongue past his lips and gently pressed it against his own before swirling them together.

You sighed softly into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair and tugging carefully at the ends. He made a small noise against you, something like a whimper, and you swallowed the vibrations of it. As you retreated, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a light, teasing tug. You soothed it again with your lips before releasing it, a proud giggle forming in your chest as Spencer chased after your lips as you broke apart.

“That’s why.” You smirked at the dazed look on his face. His eyelids remained closed longer than necessary, still feeling the ghost of your mouth on his and a tingle where your fingers were in his hair.

“Oh.” His voice came out meek as he slowly came back to reality, brows wrinkling up his forehead as he opened his eyes.

He put both his palms down on the mattress, one laying flat on either side of you, and dove forward to resume the kiss right where you left it. A surprised squeak left you as his mouth collided with yours with an insatiable hunger. You brought one hand back to his hair, and he was a goner.

He unfolded his legs from under himself and shuffled onto his knees, following his hands until he practically crawled into your lap. Each of his legs hooked onto either side of your thighs as he hovered over your lap, leaning his body entirely into yours.

The physics of it didn’t hold up; he’s taller than you are, and his chest was too heavy for you to carry. The balance was off center and it sent you tumbling back onto the mattress, bringing him down with you until his chest laid on yours.

It was the perfect force – the weight of him on top of you. He tasted like peach candy and sour sugar, and you found yourself craving more of it.

You shuffled higher up the mattress, giving him space to stretch out his body as he followed yours. One of his hands found your waist, gripping tightly, while he placed the other on the mattress beside your head, using it to steady himself. Sliding your legs out from under him, you wrapped them on the outside of his hips, using them to pull him closer down to you.

It only broke off in moments when both of you absolutely needed to get air, gasping as you pulled apart for brief reprieve before colliding again. He followed every word of your advice, getting better with each passing second until he exceeded expectations by leaps and bounds.

Your fingers weaved through his hair, passionately tugging the wavy strands to angle him against you and igniting his nerves under your touch. A soft moan leaves him and you’re encouraged to tighten your grip on them. His hips bucked reactively at the sensation, and he quickly pulled back, a slight embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. He got too carried away.

You took in his flushed face and swollen, kiss-bruised lips. They’d turned a shade of red brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and it was all you could do not to dive for them again as his tongue sweeped over them, soothing the burning heat you’d left on them.

Before he could apologize for his eagerness, you nudged your nose against his, your smile skimming against his lips. “So what else don’t you know how to do?”

☆

☆

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