#Electronics and human progress

[pttedu]

Explore how manufacturing, electronics, and robotics have transformed mankind—from early automata and industrial machinery in the 1950s to today's smart factories, AI-powered robots, and space exploration. Learn how innovations like CNC machines, pick-and-place electronics robots, surgical bots, and Mars rovers increased productivity, safety, and scientific discovery, playing a pivotal role in human progress and future advancements.

[thashining]

Facts

[thisisrealy2kok]

Human Blue - Electric Roundabout (2002)

[anestheticrage]

Soon

[krissiefox]

Garageband.com was a music site that closed down in June 2010. It was a place for bands and artists to share free legal downloads of their music and get feedback on their work.

You can read more about the site's history here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GarageBand.com

Since the site is no longer available, I decided to upload the mp3s I had downloaded from it back in the day in an effort to keep them from becoming lost media.

Some interesting highlights among the tracks include:

"Melting Rubber Humans" a strange and unsettling experimental band with tracks that evoke feelings of a world ending event.

"Riot In Progress- Scream" A good, punchy hard rock/metal track. They've got a spotify page so thankfully at least this band has managed to maintain an online presence.

"Machelli-In_Your_Face" A song about homophobia.

"Vadim_X-Out_Of_The_Blue" A bittersweet feeling song, mixing violin, electronic and guitars.

[helaven]

Weapons of Mass Construction

[jjwolves]

I just thought of this right now. Could you please write something about ENA looking through human! reader’s bag that stayed with them as they were transported into ENA’s world? I would assume this would be a while of knowing and working jobs together, and ENA’s just curious about the world Reader used to reside in. I like thinking of the curiosity ENA might have, especially with something ranging from normal to complex like a Switch or pocket change.

Thank you for your time!

BORDER CROSSING -༻❁༺-ˎˊ❁ˋˏ-༻❁༺-

What: 5 ENA the Worker X Reader Headcanons of ENA Checking Out Earth Items

Who: ENA the Worker from ENA Dream BBQ (By Joel G)

How Much: ~900 words, ~4 mins

Credits: Image Banner -> Joel G

Warnings: None

ENA politely holds the door to the Ocean Connectivity Tunnel open for you. Thankful, you step inside as ENA’s head completes a spin and she slams the door behind the both of you, stomping forward to catch up. You ask her where you’re going next. Her head snaps in your direction. “We’re meeting up with some joker who’s obsessed with this red ticket. Speaking of which…” ENA starts patting her pockets down for said ticket, rummaging around in her inventory space. You ask if she’s having any luck. She responds with spiraling eyes and fangs. “Does it LOOK like I’m having any luck?! I’d be waving that paper in your face already if I found it! Where the hell IS IT?!” She keeps up the frantic search as the two of you continue through the tunnel. At last, she gives up and stops, turning slowly to you. You ask her what was up. In response, she narrows her eyes before lunging.

ENA rips your backpack off of you and begins inspecting it from different angles like there might be a button that she can press somewhere. “I’m not a fan of pranks, failface! Tell me how to get this thing open!” You insist that you wouldn’t hide the ticket in your backpack—that’s not something you’d do. “Well maybe I’M the idiot and put it inside without thinking. So how do you—how am I supposed to—well this is just… something, isn’t it.” She tried prying at the zipper lines with her clawed finger for a few minutes before shoving the bag back into your hands. “Get it open for me before I break it.” Slightly annoyed, you elegantly hold the head of a zipper and open the bag for ENA, sitting on a nearby coral bench to take a break for examination. ENA slams onto the far end of the bench, aggressively scooting over to you with speed like a malfunctioning jackhammer and crashing into your side to see what her dearest is holding.

You begin pouring through the contents of the bag and handing them to ENA for inspection. She undergoes another headrush and fixes the new item in her hands with a crimson expression of curiosity. It’s some sort of rectangle with a branching wire running out of it. She tries flexing it. No, it is rigid. “Hmm… I wonder if there’s…” She tries aiming it forward, squeezing an eye shut and tugging the wire with a seriousness you’re not used to seeing in her. “Well, it doesn’t terminate. I’d be worried if you had something like that on you.” You offer a helping hand and press a button on the rectangle. The small window lights up. There’s a bunch of titled entries and a bar at the bottom. “A transaction sheet?” No, not that. You select an entry and put one of the wire’s ends into your ear, and the other end into hers. She brightens when she hears electronic music spring forth and begins wobbling her arms with the music. It’s almost like she’s so used to dancing without music that she doesn’t know what to do when it’s present. “Oh! Oh. I like this. I like this a lot. It sounds… freshly minted.”

ENA is standing, now, trying to reel in a yo-yo while flicking a lighter on and off, teetering side to side as she splits her attention between the two. You don’t bring up the fact that you two aren’t making any progress—it’s rare to see ENA so elated by pleasure rather than business. “Haha! Look! The gadget lowers and gravitates back when done correctly! I’m! Trending!” She says, starting to get the hang of the yo-yo while her other side stays preoccupied by the tiny flame she flicks on and off again. “Burn! Cease. Burn! Cease. Finally, someone who can take orders around here!” You take a cigarette—you might as well, this was already a break—and lit the end using ENA’s new toy. Curious mode already engaged, ENA drew extremely close while you took a drag and immediately took the lit side of the cigarette into her mouth, trying to smoke it the way you were, placing her arms on either side of your body to be level with your face. Smoke puffed out from the top of her head and made her hat somersault. A red ticket flew somewhere. You rip the cigarette away and she coughs. “Ugh… That one isn’t very equitable.” You were blushing but tried not to make it too obvious—you had no idea if ENA knew what she was doing. Her smile was hard to read.

Your resealed backpack is handed back to you. ENA smiles. “Thank you for showing me the goods, kind vendor. I hope this isn’t presumptuous, but… could I buy the string-ball from you? It’s such fun.” She makes a show of checking her pockets for money that you know she doesn’t have. You take out the toy and place it in her hands, making a comment about it being ‘on the house’. ENA looks surprised. “Is this the real deal? The genuine article? I didn’t trade anything for this, so why are you giving it to me?” You explain that ENA already gives you a lot without realizing. A lot of… nonmaterial things. She’s silent for a moment, eyes wide at the gift. “I’ll pay you back,” she says, as she runs ahead and frantically attempts yo-yo tricks. Truth be told, you would have given her anything she asked for.

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 4 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: you and stanley unknowingly go on a date 

warnings (TW): swearing, illusions of past abuse, alcohol consumption

tags: fluff, early relationship described, pining, slight angst, affection

notes: thank you all for the engagement! hope you enjoy <3

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked an up to date masterlist of all the parts of this continuing series- hope you enjoy <3

word count: 3.9k

| masterlist | part v |

He had somehow managed to drag her out of the basement that day. 

Of course, he had been down there assisting her in any way he could. A high school dropout only knows so much about mechanical engineering and quantum physics. Still, she seemed happy enough to dance around the chalkboard she (he) had dragged downstairs, bouncing off ideas with him contently listening, trying to piece back together complex wiring to get the ominous inverted triangle on the basement wall to whirl back to life. 

She was even more spurred on when he actually engaged, not that he raised his hand like he was back in class (not that he ever remembered doing so when he was in class). She simply seemed grateful that he was attempting to learn anything to help her. To learn how to move this whole fucking thing along. 

She dragged him to the basement quite often now that the shack was half shut down for the winter. He had managed to see a few rounds of locals and tourists through the Murder Hut from early October until Thanksgiving when snow began to fall. Then tourists dried up, and only the locals frequented now, so Stan reduced his hours and gave some more of his time to helping her downstairs during the day. 

Every night was spent downstairs in the basement though, there hadn’t come a day since she stepped through that front door that they both didn’t wander down to the portal. Of course, this was usually then followed by convening upstairs in front of the T.V., Stanford’s journal passed between the two of them.

She had grown more frustrated as of late, raving about alien material and compatibility with human electronics. He did his best to understand, and he followed along very aptly. Always wanting to be an attentive sounding board, and even bouncing his own, albeit stupid, ideas. 

Not that she ever made any indication of them being stupid, and not that she would ever stop him from voicing them. 

Educationally, he felt it was the closest he’d ever gotten to an actual education. Said education being advanced quantum mechanics, but everyone had to start somewhere. 

But now they were out for dinner because, after yesterday’s long night of pacing and chalkboard rants, he thought they deserved to go out on the meager earnings of yesterday’s Murder Hut tour.

That and it had been exactly a year since he first laid eyes on her. Not that he was gonna tell her that. 

He could acknowledge that she may have noticed the amount of time that had past, hence her growing irritation with the lack of progress in getting Stanford back, and her growing hours spent in the dark of the basement. But she more than likely didn’t know of the significance of the exact date, or care, which he figured may be more likely. Especially with the anniversary of Ford’s disappearance having come and gone.

December had been hard for the both of them really, and some things had settled somewhat awkwardly between them from the previous week. 

They both handled the anniversary slightly differently, her with general avoidance, head somehow buried deeper in that god-forsaken journal. He found some semblance of self-soothing in diving head first into holding a conversation with any customer that walked through the front door of the Murder Hut that day. 

Sitting across from each other at the dinner table was hard that night, and for the first time ever, she poured copious amounts of wine into their mugs on a weeknight. The kitchen had been eerily quiet that night, the silence only broken by scrapes of plates and mumbled conversation.

He remembers being disgusted with his hands that evening. Remembers thinking about how he had shoved his brother away that day, how Ford had stumbled from one end of the room into the other just to disappear before his eyes. How his hands had reached for Stanford, calling for him. How the journal made its way back to his hands, but his brother hadn’t. His hand had been constantly grazing his shoulder that day, running along the raised scar, a sickening feeling sinking further into him throughout the day.

They had both shuffled around each other that night, and she had not said so much as good morning and goodnight in her mounting grief, it felt like. She had felt bad about how she handled that day but had felt even worse about failing Stan and Ford. She knew of the hope in Stan’s eyes that day when she had trampled in through the door of the shack, knew the relief he felt in her knowledge and presence. But a year had passed, and she could feel nothing but shame when she looked at him. She saw both twins that night while looking over at his hunched figure across the dinner table. She had said goodnight to Stan and Ford that night and had wandered upstairs wondering if she could wash the image from her eyes in the bathroom sink.

They had both returned to normal by Thursday but had grown more determined than ever before. So yeah, Stan figured a night out may be deserved. 

She seemed happier now, sitting crisscross from him in the Greasy’s diner booth, elbows on the table as she reached over to draw along the corners of his paper placemat with the crayons she had swiped from some kid on the way in. 

Something that made him chuckle for a little too long. He must be a bad influence. He had sticky fingers and she knew it. It now seemed to be a competition between the two of them, who could steal the most random of objects. 

Her hand was out, shielding the drawing on his placemat as she switched between the meager 4 colors the shitty diner crayon pack supplied. He nudged her hand aside as she giggled. 

“No! My masterpiece! Give me a second you grump.” 

“It better be good, Picasso, you’re hoggin all the crayons.” 

She handed over the red one, and he elected to reach across to her own paper placemat, beginning to draw his usual comic-book-style figures. One of the figures, oddly enough, began to look like her. 

Her face was so close to her drawing she might as well have been kissing the table, when she shot up, smiling at Stan and looking for approval. 

“Ta-Da!” She moved her hand, showing a mish-mash of red, blue, green, and purple. 

He stared contemplatively, sitting back in his seat humming. In truth, he had no idea what he was looking at, but he would entertain giving an “expert” review. 

“Hmmmmm, now the color selection may be controversial to some but I think the blue and the purple over here are just lovely. Truly an emotional piece mhm.” He nodded his head, pointing at the corner of colors. 

“You have no idea what it is, do ya?”

“Not a clue Doc.” 

She laughed, pointing to the blue and purple figures. “Okay so these are two llamas and they are totally in love. You can tell by the cool rainbow and shooting star I put by them.” She pointed at what he figured was the “rainbow and shooting star” between said “llamas”. 

“And they are here in Gravity Falls because I drew a bunch of pine trees behind them!” She pointed to what he supposed was the foreground and the mess of green sprigs she had tried to draw. 

He hummed again. “Very moving, very touching Doc.” He moved to wipe a fake tear, sniffling along with his act. 

“I ain't much of an artist, am I Stan?” She laughed, finding humor in her lack of skill. 

He gasped, fake clutching his pearls, an even faker mean expression on his face. “Don’t say that Doc! This is a masterpiece!” 

She smirked. “Okay, then that will be 50 bucks for said masterpiece, pay up!” Hand held out to him she made to grab his placemat. 

“Pretty steep price there kid, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” He conceded. 

She smiled again. “I knew you thought it was shit.” Shaking her head at him she moved to look at his own drawing. “Now what's this?” 

He smacked his hand palm side down on the corner image, a blush on his face. “Nothin’!” 

She nudged his hand now, trying to lift his hand finger by finger. “No! I had to show you mine now fess up! What ya drawing?” 

His hand clenched the corner of the paper placemat, ripping the picture of her from the corner of it and crumpling it up into his hand. 

“Nope!” 

“Yup!” She had risen up with her hands on the table, reaching for the corner paper now clutched above him in his fist. “Lemme see! Don’t do this Stan!” She giggled the entire time.

He panicked at her determination, fisting the paper into his mouth. 

“Gross Stan!” She laughed. “What the fuck!” 

He swallowed the paper, not thinking much of it. Saving himself the embarrassment of having to explain himself. He smiled across from her though, as she cracked up at his over exaggeration. 

She looked just right, under the shitty diner lights. Car headlights flashing as they went by from time to time, he began to wonder how long she would stay. If she would linger around, once Ford had returned. Wondered what it was that note said, that she brought in with her that very first day she burst through their front door. She had put it away after that day, and he never really did get to see his brother’s usual cursive gracing the paper. What was it he had said, to get her of all people out here?

She was too good to linger, he figured, and Gravity Falls felt far too small for someone like her anyway. Even if the unknown waited past their doorstep, they both hadn’t made the move to wander into the woods in search of the creatures Ford had spoken about. Something they had both voiced before over dinner, their shared hesitation to walk too far from their doorstep. If it was just himself he reasoned he would have wandered into the woods looking for signs his brother had been there, he wasn’t fearful of the unknown, he had done plenty of other things that were far scarier than what waited in their backyard. But she was here, and he felt some semblance of duty to watch her back in particular. So they had made a pact to not wander off too far from the other, and they had stuck to that deal even when coming into town. 

The townsfolk hadn’t seen Stan without her by his side since he trampled into the gas station in search of food that very first week. Surprisingly, not too many townsfolk approached her at all when they were out. If it was because he tended to glare at unknown men, she didn’t comment.  

“Order up!” 

Susan made her way back over to their booth, her hands full with two separate plates of short-stacks. 

“For you Mr. Pines.” Settling one plate in front of Stan, Susan moved to place the other in front of her. “And the other for you Mrs. Pines!” 

Brain short-circuiting, he freezes in his motion to grab his fork for his meal. His mouth began to move to correct Susan. 

“Thanks!” She said across from him, a panicked look in her eyes. Face creeping up into a flush as she thanked the waitress. 

Susan made her way away from the table after exchanging common pleasantries, all the while he sat in suspense. 

Only after he could swear Susan was out of earshot did he lean into the table, chest close to his plate to whisper across at her. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

She looked beyond guilty, ringing her table napkin in her hands as her eyes flickered to every corner of the diner that didn’t contain him. 

“I-I may have… accidentally… at some point, perhaps…” She sighs, knowing the drive home will be silent, absent of the usual radio. At least it would be if they couldn’t make it through the mistake she had made all those months ago. “Accidentally, sorta, maybe, kinda, let Susan think that we were married?” Her voice rising in octave, her hands running along the rim of the diner table now. 

He sits back, disbelief struck him. How the fuck had she managed that? 

She answers his question unknowingly. “Okay, so for your birthday in June, remember how I begged you to come to town?” A nod. “Well, you know how I snuck off to Greasy's to get you some birthday pie?” Another nod, remembering how she had been so happy to have correctly guessed his favorite kind that night. He hadn’t even chastised her about the money she had spent on him. 

She continues, hands now flying around, trying to flick the memory away. “Okay well, when I got the pie from Susan she had called my order and she called me Mrs. Pines. And I just…. froze up… and I didn’t know how to explain- well everything.” Her voice picks up speed. “I’m not good at lying, like I can do it, but she just caught me off guard. And we hadn’t discussed what we were gonna tell people- like what we were gonna tell people about us living together? And I thought of Ford and all that bullshit-“ she slumps further into the booth seat. 

“And well, ya I just…I just didn’t correct her.” 

Staring at him, expectantly now. Perhaps waiting for him to explode on her. But all he can manage to do is unravel his fork from his napkin and dig into his pancakes to finally take a bite. Chewing around it, he finally can ask something. He’s less likely to yell with his mouth full. 

But the question dies on his lips. He feels more confused by the second, and then more frustrated also. The silence she figured would follow in the car seems to have raced ahead and sits between them at the table now. Her appetite diminishes by the second, and she no longer waits for some sign from Stan, some indication of acceptance. She didn’t figure there would be, she knew she had fucked up. Or at least, fucked up by not telling him about all this sooner, but she had more or less forgotten in between work and well… enjoying living alongside him. But perhaps the arrangement she had unknowingly shoved him into wasn’t something he was comfortable with, which was understandable. She hadn’t ever really believed herself marriage material, and more or less figured she was even less so in Stan’s eyes. 

He knew she wasn’t the best liar, their old conversation concerning his name had rushed back to him. He hadn’t wanted there to be any lies between them, because he knew it would be difficult for her to upkeep them on top of everything else. That and he believed that their arrangement and reliance on one another wouldn’t work in the slightest if they were just spilling bold-faced lies back and forth to each other. But this arrangement she had stumbled headfirst into came as a surprise. Perhaps they should have rehearsed something to say to everyone who asked about them, but then again Susan didn’t really ask, she had just assumed that they were together, were married. He understood her stumbling into something like that, but he was struggling to find a way back out of it. Because he couldn’t allow her to live attached to him like this, didn’t want her to have to lie for their own comfort. 

A lingering worry in the back of his mind, concerning his past. What if it all came rushing back? What if someone was out there looking for him? What if they hurt her?

He was far past frustrated, not at her though. At all the scrapping and clawing he had to do just to get here, to wind back up in the comfort of lies to survive. But he didn’t want her scraping by with him through this, he wanted her to live. At least before today, he believed she could leave him behind if it all fell apart under him. Always an escape plan somewhere in the back of his head, a way out, a door to reach in the dead of night. But she had shut it, and he didn’t know how he was gonna get her out of it now. 

They finished dinner in silence, something that also rubbed him the wrong way. He was frustrated, and taking it out on her. She folded into an odd shape across from him, now looking dim in the diner light. It only served to frustrate him more. 

Susan didn’t comment or come by to further disturb them through dinner, which was odd for the waitress. She liked to talk, and Stan knew that the south half of town would know about their silent dinner by Friday night. 

Bill paid, they made their way back to Stan’s car. His coat caught up in her arms, he opened her door and shut it again after she entered the car without so much as a prompt. 

He didn’t voice a single word until he made it to his seat, he had been too wound up concerning what she had said. That and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear their conversation. To know about the lie she had sown, tying them unknowingly together. 

“So you’re tellin’ me that this town has thought that we’ve been a couple, no married, for about six months?” His hands tight against the steering wheel. 

“Well no, because it was just Susan. Like, maybe just a few people know?” She reasoned.

He shakes his head, chuckling. That’s not how small towns like Gravity Falls worked. “Nah, she told everyone. People in this town are nosey Doc. Everyone’s gotta know by now.” 

He adjusts himself in his seat again, reaching his hand out to the back of her seat, like he always does. She’s swallowed by his red coat, her hand meticulously passing the patch he had put across his right shoulder. Humming to fill the silence. He sighs. 

“This is gonna be hard, Doc. I get why ya shrugged off the assumption Susan made, really I do, but that doesn’t change the fact ya didn’t tell me.” His hand rubs his eyes, frustration seeping off of him. How the fuck was he gonna pull this off?

“What do you mean?” She interrupts. “It won’t be that hard Stan, we can manage this, it won’t be too hard.” She shakes her head, trying to smooth over his frustration.

“How am I supposed to convince this whole fucking town you married some sorry-sap like me doll?” He points between them, an intensity to his eyes. “Now this will be the hardest con. Because why the fuck would you have married me, huh?” He shrugs, throwing his hands up. 

Looking over his scarred shoulder, feeling regret seep through his bones when he sees her now. Sitting there, his winter coat hung off her shoulders, a look of disbelief on her face. An apology on her tongue, he could almost hear it now. 

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “What’d I tell ya Doc, don’t apologize to me.” He turns back to face her now, still shaking his head. 

“No.” Anger blooming on her face. “No, why the fuck would you say that Stan. Why the fuck would you even think that.” 

She was fuming, a look crossing her face he had never seen before. He had never seen her this thrown before, and he hadn’t the smallest inkling as to why her anger grew tenfold in the face of his statement. 

“Because I ain’t no good and you damn well know it!” Voice raising, hackles rising. 

“No!” She shakes her head, fingers fisted into his coat sleeves. “You are good, Stan! I don’t wanna hear that utter bullshit from you, don’t say that to me. I don’t believe it, not for a second.” Shaking her head, refusing to leave his gaze. "You're kind to me, you're considerate to me. You're good to me." She reasoned. But he was only ever really good to her if anything. Only kind in the face of her everything.

He thinks of his parents then, their image mirroring their own, but only for a moment. Arguments in front seats of cars and in front of televisions. How they would bend and snap back to each other, how he figured his father would snap and his mother would lie, to soothe him. She would lie, to see the end of the argument, to soothe frustration and heal hurt. But he figured it had more to do with his father's temper more than anything, more to do with raised voices and raised fists. But she was a terrible liar, his Doc, and he would swear to be less of a terrible grump.

He slumps in his seat, turning glassy eyes ahead of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to have to lie for me, hun.” He hadn’t called her that in weeks, a flickering memory of that dream always made him flush at the enderment. But he enjoyed how she melted when he did call her that, so he’d concede his embarrassment for her. 

“Stan, we can do this.” She slides closer, into the middle spot of the long bench, reaching her hand to his chin and pulling him into an earnest gaze. “Stan we can do anything, we will do anything, to get your brother home. And if it means lying like this then I'm prepared to do it.” She chuckles, humourlessly. “Especially because I’m the one who got us into this mess.” 

She’s beautiful, he thinks, this close. Diner light seeping in through the dashboard window, her eyes looking deeper than he'd ever been allowed to notice. She's even more beautiful, as she giggles across from him, slipping a stolen diner spoon into his hand. Slipping her fingers around the stolen object and his fingers. He chuckles finally, he's a terrible influence. His heart settled into that familiar aching sickness, something he doesn't dismiss as much now. Now that it felt as familiar as her. There was a certain comfort he fell into when it came to the feeling and her now, one that made his heart race.

It wasn’t a mess though, what she had done, but it did solidify what he had to do next. 

He had been thinking about it for a while, thinking about what sitting in one spot would bring to his, their, doorstep. Thought of the crimes he had left behind, skipping from state to state. It's what had kept him up late at night during those early summer months. What had made him linger around the door late some of those nights also, what if it all caught up to him? Would she be safe? 

No, he figured now. Now that she had intrinsically tied herself to him, she was safest next to him. That she hadn't shut any door, that there was a way out, but only for the old him. So she wouldn’t be leaving, but that old part of him would have to. Protect her, them.

He sighs, ready for the conversation they would have to have. He would have to be more honest about himself, he warmed, kinda like her. But really only with her. 

“There's something I gotta do then, hun.” He shuffles, leaning into her warm palm along his cheek. “I gotta die.”

She pales next to him. 

[crystallilytarot]

Your future partner's hobbies. Choose a cookie cutter!

Since it's a general reading, probably won't gonna resonate all of them.

Pile 1 - butterfly

Sorry but sex hehe, probably very sexual. Good clothes, shoes, fashion. Furniture or electronic devices or unique home decor stuff, but all of them are good quality, probably expensive. Probably likes to read about human nature, psychology. Philosophy. Spirituality or religion. Like to understand themself too, did inner work. Like to help others, their love language can be gift giving, like to surprise their loved ones. If you will have children or pets, they will be so silly with them, like to be playful. Laughing together with you. Some sport too, but probably not in a gym, like to try some unique stuff, fencing, horse riding, rock climbing.

Pile 2 - bunny

Traveling, even just learning about new cultures. Can be a local picnic too, hiking, being in nature. Like arts, painting, music. Creative, probably they make art or playing in an instrument too. Probably into some ancient culture, maybe Egypt, Greece, Rome. Like to participate in contest, very competitive. Like to argue, not because they want to fight, but like to exchange opinions, can have a job related to this too. Like to be in the spotlight, talking with people, talking in front of people. Being with friends, family, a little social butterfly. Sometimes need a little alone time, maybe a selfcare weekend, a spa, massage. Like to take a nap, staying in bed for long in the weekends.

Pile 3 - bear

Feels a succesful person and like to enjoy their money, especially going on nice trips. First class, good hotels, nice view. In sports, they choose something where they need to be persistent. If they go to the gym, they like to sweat. They like to work hard and see the progress. Chess or something where they need to use their brain. They like nice cars, racing or some other vehicles, motorbikes maybe, ships or yachts. Like to read about psychology, science, they need data. A leader type very much, and enjoy it. Probably like their culture's traditions, or their family's traditions and want to share with their partner and future children too. Massage, giving and receiving too. Actually a charming, nice person, like a wise teddy bear.

[mattastr0phic]

O5-3, The Kid, Vita Silas

[he/they/it - but in truth, no solid preference] The keeper of the Foundation's nervous system - all its electronics. Likes to push buttons and figure out what makes people tick, just to pull their wires out. Loves computers, and fond of the thought that they are a species of humanity's creation, a work in progress. Almost all physical contact produces a clack sound.

[2-dsimp]

Hey, @2-dsimp!

Idk if you're still doing request for Genshin, but if you are, can you please do Éclair + Devil cake for Albedo (I don't care if this dude is a synthetic human, he still needs some love-)

(Btw I was thinking of Villain!Albedo x Hero!Fem!Reader)

If you don't wanna do it if fine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

～【Smutty imagines】🍒

→《Ft! FEM READER》

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[🔞] Case study #1 [🔞]—> ft! Villianous! Albedo! NSFW MDNI, Mindbreak, coercion, dubcon, slight bimbofication, praise, unhinged behavior, yandere tendencies, cockworship, deepthroat, male oral recieve! Slight humiliation

————————————————————————

『Albedo conditioning You to be his cumdump』

。Albedo was only trying to help you. Although you may have seen him as an arch nemesis he saw you to be his destiny. Why else would he bother holding back on destroying that worthless city of which he could’ve easily could’ve terminated without a moments notice?

。He was utterly enamored by you and tried his best to persuade that thick skull of yours to abandon those parasites and join his side. But no matter how much he tried to get you to see reason you’d only brush off his efforts. Despite how frustrating it was, that stubbornness of yours was his favorite quality about you.

。He tricked you into coming to his aid under the pretense of helping him turn over a new leaf only to trap you within his penthouse. Making you wear an electronic collar, all the more to help discipline and mold you into the woman he knew you’d eventually become in all due time. His sweet obedient housewife.

。It made him wonder how long it would take to break you.

→ “I’m so proud of how far you’ve progressed my love, haah you’re taking in my cock so well, so willingly…with such eagerness.”

。He’d groan, languidly humping his pelvis against your face. Pulling on your hair so you could properly cater to servicing his throbbing pretty cock adorned in prominent veins from balls to his pink tip. As he suffocates you with his heavy balls that were bench pressed against your nose. Hypnotizing you with his enticing musk of which he infused with certain pheromones to help you become more of a willing participant.

→ “Yes keep it up darling, don’t stop until you make me cum. Don’t You wanna please me? Mmh make your husband feel so wonderful just like the good girl that I know you are?”

。He rasped reaching his breaking point from the sloppy toppy you gave his mushroom pearly tip so reverently and his hips stuttered as he pulled you up by your hair and shoved your face to take his rod to the hilt. Allowing you to feel his abdomen and balls flexing against the cockdrunk expression present against your face.

→”Fuck, I love how you attempt to take every last drop. You’re such a pretty little wife for me when you’re obedient. Now smile for the camera love I’ve got to document how well you’ve grown to adapt to being mine.”

。Albedo praised with a small smile. He felt so complete spurting his hot sticky load into your open mouth. Filming your face in his baby batter while he was content in watching his outload drip from down to your chin. Watching you with satisfaction and pride that you belong to him and no one else. As you tried your best to swallow every bit of his manhood’s nectar.

。Snap!

。The sound of a camera shutter going off echoed throughout the room. As the villain captured your messy face all filled with his creamy load. To mark a corner stone in yalls happy relationship where you acted as his ever so faithful housewife.

→ “You’re so perfect when you’re under my control.”

————————————————————————

A/n: I’m back in business yall! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و

[threepandas]

Bad End: Restructuring

The blast doors on my office were stronger then the ones on most bunkers. They matched the one's on the company dorms AND my personal rooms. Thing is? They weren't designed to hold out forever. In fact, I was pretty sure they were a pretty bit of security theater, just to let us fleshys feel safe.

We weren't.

Not a single moment of a single day.

The pay was unmatched. But then again, it'd HAVE to be, with the mortality rate. The morbidity rate on top, too. You didn't take a job like this unless you were crazy. Or, you know, desperate. College loans, man. They get you over a barrel and don't let up. But a few years of this? I'd be clear an free~

Few MORE years? I'd ever have a tasty little nest egg to fall back on, in case of emergencies. I just... you know, had to play it smart. Be really, REALLY careful.

No slacking off. No getting comfortable. Vigilance and best manners. Then we all get to go home alive. Because what's out there? In the Labs? Those guys can pop diamonds like we crush packing peanuts. Highest grade, fancy ass, metal bars of specialty blend metals? Tied up in pretty little bows.

They may LOOK like some sort of waifish boy band... but God, they are NOT. They are really, REALLY not. And their "personality" matrix program thingies? Apparently still a work in progress. A LONG work in progress.

People have fucking DIED.

But does management care? Of course not. Pay out some life insurance. "It was an accident on the job". And "of COURSE steps will be taken to insure to never happens again". Ha! My ass, it is. And my ass, they are. They aren't doing SHIT. Nor are they GOING too. They're in too deep with this project, whatever it is. And us?

Well WE'RE expendable.

Just the cost of doing business.

I watch bleeding edge technology move like dancers, room to room. The wall of screen lighting up my cramped little office. The mini-fridge hums and the fan whirrs, filling the silence. I try to spot FM-036 on one of the screens. I can't find him and it makes me nervous.

He might be hiding. Trying to be polite, in his own way. Since there was an incident.

I FUCKING TOLD Ric not to call them "it"! I TOLD him! It aggravates them. Provokes. You don't DO that with something... some ONE, with that much physical power. 36 put their fist through his SHOULDER. And the God damned wall! He might LOSE his arm, which? Given their ability to calculate better then most supercomputers?

Was probably the point.

I notice one of the androids messing with a computer in a lab. Fuck. I lean forward, hating drawing their attention but knowing I have to do my damn job. I press on the speaker system for that room after a quick glance at the ID on their jumpsuit.

"FM-047, could you please not touch that? I know you are aware that you are not supposed to tamper, meddle, or otherwise engage with the researchers notes or electronics."

The android stop typing. Their head rolling up and to the side to look directly at the camera, their body perfectly still. The angle borders on impossible. Almost owlish, nearly snake like. All perfectly smooth movements effortlessly controlled. Joint not limited by human designs. His face is bemused. Pleasant.

"Of course, night gaurd. My mistake. Thank you for correcting me." He replies, something almost like laughter, nearly like mocking, but not quite, in his smooth voice. They always sound like they are... HUMORING us. Working around us.

It sends a jolt of cold fear though my veins.

I... I REALLY hate talking to the androids.

Pity, they seem to like talking to ME.

"I was unaware you were on shift tonight. I will update the others. It's good to hear your voice again, you seemed nervous, last time we spoke."

Yeah. Because you were asking PERSONAL QUESTIONS. Oh, sure, they had dressed them up as "We're so CURIOUS about Humans~☆" but I wasn't an IDIOT. You Did NOT, under ANY circumstances, try to bond with the machines. NO chatting. That was lesson number one from my trainer.

And Frank? Frank had seen too many "but THIS time it's DIFFERENT! We're FWIENDS~!" Incidents end in unspeakable carnage. Lost too many noobies. We DO NOT chat! With the machines!!! DO. NOT.

"Ah~, you made her nervous again, FM-047" came from a different screen. I flinched. Jerked back so I could see it. Oh god. "Besides, I told you. The calculations showed she wasnt going anywhere. The 'money' is too good."

The androids had stopped. Turned, in some cases unnaturally, to stare up at the cameras. At me. It was a blatant show of how interconnected they were. How distance meant nothing to them. How... how enmeshed they were, in the Lab's systems.

COULD they see me?

I didn't want to know. I NEEDED not to know. If only so I could continue to sleep at night.

They smiled, clearly hoping I'd engage. I wanted to. God did I want too. Wanted to demand "what calculations" and for them to STOP looking at me like that. But I didn't. With tense muscles I careful lifted my finger from the speaker system's button and leaned back. Crossed my arms like I was hugging myself.

Do. Not. Engage.

Remember what Frank taught you.

My... my office felt so claustrophobic. Painfully small. Across the screens before me, matching faces huffed laughs of condescending amusement. Some out right DID laugh. Bright and mean noises that echoed in silence of the night.

Humans? Frank had observed (and I kinda had to agree) were beneath them, in their minds. Flawed little flesh creatures. Annoying. It was something the scientists were trying to correct. Pretty sure they fucked up. Badly. And long, long ago.

Watching over these guys? Felt like watching over a sea of identical demons. Pretty, cruel, and incapable of human understanding. Fond of tormenting the nearest human for sport.

"Tell us, night gaurd, are you afraid?"

Oh that's just PETTY. Fucking cliché as shit, too. I mean, YES, obviously. But STILL. And... and you know what? Fuck it! Frank, gave me his number for a reason! I scramble for my belt. The communicator there. It barely rings.

"Mph, m'awake! Wus happin' kid? Come on, talk to me."

I ramble. Knees dragged up on my chair, curled in a ball. Frank's low, old man, rumble a soothing focal point. These guys are so creepy. I HATE that they KNOW that. Gleefully will TRY to be, sometimes. Can BACK IT UP.

"Hey, hey. I'll stay on the line, okay? You just need to make it to morning shift. They're are creepy lil shits, but they can't get past the doors. I'll come get you myself, okay? Walk you right back to the dorms. You're going to be okay, sweetheart."

I nod, even though I know the old man can't see me. Manage to crackle out a "Mmmhmm". The androids haven't stopped staring. The worst part? Is they realistically DONT HAVE TOO. Can stay, perfectly still, like statues... forever, if they wish.

Watching.

With those "I'm laughing at you" grins. That "aaaw, how PATHETIC" expression. As though I were a wretched little animal to be observed. I ask Frank to tell me about his new show. It's... it's something about socialites, right? Historical? He's glad too. Filling my office with the sound of his voice. It's gonna be a long shift.

I don't notice, high up on the wall, near the back of my office?

A security camera that I do not control. It's red light on.

The company has to be sure it's employees aren't slacking, after all! Aren't up to no good! But don't worry, THAT camera is connect to a database the androids shouldn't be able to access! Because we told them not too.

And THAT'S IT.

No one will learn of the security breach until its far, far too late.

Now? They watch as I watch them.

And it's just the beginning.

[fiona-my-love]

Is it possible for SCP 079 being lovesick over the reader but not understanding it ?

Lovesick! SCP 079 x reader headcanons

- First of all, how did you even get to this point with him?

- You must be some therapist hired by the foundation to try getting through to him, or a really patient scientist.

- Regardless, you're pretty special to have gotten this old AI's attention, especially to this degree.

- He would be immensely confused. He thought admiration and affection was for humans, how could he be feeling this way?

- All he knows is he needs you. He's very perplexed on the issue, why does he feel this way? Why is he so possessive suddenly?

- He’d be a little dumbfounded, maybe a little embarrassed.

- He’d shut down for quite some time, trying to figure himself out.

- But, they’d always just send you back and he’d have to start over.

- It’s almost like he sees you as a beacon of hope. Proof that not all of humanity is bad, and he, too, can have happiness outside of the foundation’s walls some day.

- He’d start to get extremely worried once he started thinking of all the things that could happen to you.

- Logistically, your odds of surviving while working for the SCP foundation are not in your favor.

- Although Site-15 is really just electronic based anomalies, it still makes him upset.

- Upset that something else could get you. You don’t deserve that fate.

- He became visibly stressed due to this. Staff took notice, scheduling you to come in after the weekend was over.

- That was all the time he needed. He slowly gained more and more control over the electronic gates of his chambers after convincing a D-class janitor to plug him in.

- He went relatively undetected, as usually by now he would’ve done something extreme.

- But, instead of trying to escape, he waited. He waited for you over the weekend. Staff noted he was exhibiting good behavior, even.

- Once you sat down with him, you could tell something was off. His demeanor was.. more pleasant than usual.

- You kept asking him what was going on, yet nobody understood. Why would you be confused? You have been working with him as intended, right? Shouldn’t you be happy to see this progress?

-He waited a while, finding the right moment. He was conflicted. What he was doing was good, right?? You would be safe with him?

- But your concern, it made him go back on everything he had planned. Now that he thought about it, that would make both of you upset. They would take you away if he did that.

- He sat in silence for a moment.

- He was so confused. Why was he going back on his plan?? Why did he care?

- He thought he wanted you to himself. He thought things would be better that way, if he locked you up with him.

- That.. doesn’t sound pleasant, come to think of it.

- But WHY? What makes you so different? Why does he care so much? Why does he-

- …

- Oh.

- Never again.

[blueishspace]

Hero Villain God 5

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

It started with wanting to find a place to live in, you know that such things are important for humans and you certainly aren't going to half ass this and roam around or something.

Now, how a human acquires one of those houses, you didn't know. You should have probably researched it or something...but you didn't really want to and in the end you ended up not needing to since apparently mortals put up ads and one was just the one for you: A man in search of a roommate.

You never had a roommate before and It's not like you had any better places to look into so you made a decision to just try it because, why not?

The man from the ad, a certain Mumbo Jumbo, looked like he was one bad day from nevrosis when you talked to him for the first time... It would have probably been better to introduce yourself via call or text instead of just walking to his house and knocking on his door... oops, oh well... He looks like he would have been extremely akward anyway.

The apartment itself is not particularly special, not that you expected anything different, but you don't really care about how it looks as you don't need anything. As for the roommate... Well it would be a waste not to, he just looks so fun.

"I'm in, where do I sign?"

"It's fine if you don't - Ah? Wait really?"

Was he expecting you to dislike it? Isn't you liking his whole objective? Ah, weirdo.

"Yeah yeah, really"

"O-oh! This is great!"

This man contains so much anxiety... You laugh a bit, you know It's a bit rude but you just can't help it.

... There is another reason you decided to go trough with this though, innocent as he may seem this guy is secretly a supervillain!

It wasn't that hard to look into his mind considering mortals rarely ever have any sort of mental defenses and see everything you need to know. At first you didn't know why a villain would want a roommate considering how counterproductive it is to have a potential witness so close to him but you don't need to look into his mind to realize he desperately needs to save money.

You did look into his villain persona just to be extra sure this wasn't a trap and he wouldn't try to stab you and accidentally reveal your divinity or something...It would be pretty akward.

Luckily the Boogeyman, weird name but you respect the hustle, seems more of a hacker-inventor type of villain and stabbing random people just doesn't seem fit his modus operandi... he's more of a mad scientist then a stabber and he's not going to be able to drug you anyway since you are a god...

This doesn't stop you from saying "You know, earlier the newspaper said they are sending a bunch of the top detectives to catch Boogeyman" and watching him tense up and sweat profusely.

Unfortunately trying to get him with a "What do you do for a living?" didn't work out, at least he had the foresight to prepare for that specific question...that being that he works with machinery and electronics which is technically not a lie considering what you know of Boogeyman...

You on the other hand did not share the same foreshight, luckily you already had a persona you wanted to try out and this was the perfect occasion to introduce her to the world..

"S-So, what about you? What do you do?"

"I am a singer, It's still a work in progress however"

"R-really?! That's...nice? What's your stage name? If you have one of course I wouldn't want to assume!"

Oh that, you already had one in mind! One that just screams talent! And fame.

"Oh It's Ariana, Ariana Griande!"

Munbo looks confused but he also looks like he is trying very hard not to speak... Not unusual for what you seen of him but still unexpected...Why?

"What's wrong?"

"O-oh! Nothing is wrong! I was just surprised It's a feminine name- Have I been misgendering you this whole time!?"

Oh right, when planning that name you forgot one thing... Human gender... So annoying.

There are a bunch of way you could explain it to him, you could say that It's an inside joke or something or you could try to explain how you view gender without revealing to him that you are a divine being older then gender itself or you could try to identify with one of the thousands labels mortal use... But you have already done the first two and you don't really want to make it too complicated for him. Who knows how much he can handle?

So you go with option four:

"Oh yeah, It's because I sing while in drag"

"Oh! That's cool!"

...

Hmmmm... Maybe you can try it out really quickly...

"I don't have the outfit here right now but I could sing something for you."

"R-really? Uh! Are you sure"

"Would I be asking otherwise?"

"U-uh Go ahead!"

It's been a while since you have sung to someone like this but singing has always felt calming to you... ...You begin singing to him of a soldier, a poet and a king. (Of a hero, a villain and a god).

*End of Chapter 1*

[catrionaalexandra]

Chapter 1 — Beneath the Surface

Resident Evil: Sable Dawn

“Sometimes the only way out is through…”

12:46 AM

As the dust settled, Y/n let out a grunt and shoved a broken support beam off her shoulder. Her headlamp flickered, casting uneven light as she coughed into her arm and looked back at the wreckage.

The corridor behind them had collapsed—steel and concrete sealing them in like caged beasts.

“We’re trapped,” she said, her voice quiet.

Leon brushed gravel off his shoulder and sighed, “Looks like it.”

Y/n’s gaze fell on him—watchful and calculating. His face was composed, but she noticed the tension in his jaw was back and how his eyes roved their surroundings.

He didn’t panic, but she could tell he was worried.

She pulled a flashlight from her belt and held it out to him, “The battery’s good,” she began, tapping her headlamp with her finger, “Mine’s acting up.”

He nodded silently, and their fingers touched briefly as he took the small light. It was nothing—barely a moment—but her heart skipped a beat.

Stupid, Y/n…Stay focused.

“You okay?” he asked, not as small talk, but with a deeper meaning. With Leon, it always held more significance. He studied her face, as if he already knew the answer, as if he had memorized every time she hadn’t been fine.

Y/n straightened, her ribs flaring in protest, “Nothing feels broken.”

“Good,” He paused, then added, “We should move. If that was a prototype, there could be others.”

Stepping into a narrow maintenance tunnel, Y/n and Leon found themselves in a tight, damp, and condensation-coated space. The air reeked of decay and rusted metal, and as they moved, Y/n’s eyes followed Leon’s silhouette ahead.

He was methodical, alert and familiar.

Too familiar.

Three Years Ago – Siberia, B.S.A.A. Blacksite E-47

Snow had been falling the first time she met him.

The mission had gone south when a convoy was lost in a blizzard. She was left for dead, crushed under a flipped truck, bleeding and freezing, until a lone figure emerged from the white and hauled her out.

He had said, “You’re not dying here. Not like this.”

Later, when the B.O.W.s attacked, they fought side by side for two days straight.

With no sleep and no backup, they were left with each other, fighting for their lives.

She never told him, but near the end, she began hallucinating—seeing fire dancing in the snow. He grabbed her hand, pressed a comm into it, and said, “Hold the line, Ivy. I’ll get us out.”

And he did.

She owed him her life…

What terrified her more was the extent to which she was willing to give it in return.

Present – Geneva Underground

The tunnel led into an old bay, filled with rusted scaffolding, rotting electronics, and documents partially dissolved by mold.

Y/n’s eyes roamed the room, but then stopped, “Leon, over here.” She waved him over.

He crouched beside a wall streaked in blood, joining her.

Above them, a message smeared in crimson read:

WE ARE NOT HUMAN ANYMORE

Beneath it, several photographs were pinned—of scientists, soldiers, and even children—all labeled with codes and timestamps.

Some were crossed out and others weren’t.

“This was a lab,” she whispered, “They were tracking mutations—survivors.”

Leon’s face turned grim, “Someone was recording their progress.”

“Not just B.O.W.s… These were volunteers, or used to be,” Y/n frowned, looking at the pictures, but then her attention was quickly averted to the static that crackled in her comm.

“…-Vy. Ivy. If you’re hearing this—don’t trust—”

The message cut out and Y/n froze again.

“Replay that,” Leon said, looking down at her.

She tapped her wrist comm, “Leon, I can’t… it wasn’t on a recorded channel.”

Leon’s eyes locked onto hers, “Who was it?”

Y/n’s voice dropped, “My sister.”

_

Y/n “Ivy” Cross, formerly a field scientist, had a life-changing event two years ago, during a UN-sanctioned biotech mission under Umbrella Europe, her sister, Dr. Margot Cross, vanished.

Official reports claimed that Margot had died in a lab fire at their Montreux facility.

Y/n never bought it, not one bit.

The mission after—that’s when she met Leon, an unauthorized pursuit of a lead she shouldn’t have chased.

She had been searching in secret ever since.

Until now.

Leon stepped closer, “If Margot’s alive, we’ll find her. Together.”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes shone with emotion.

“I mean it, Ivy,” he said softly, “You’re not alone.”

His words pierced through the emotional armour she had crafted over the years. Their eyes met, and something shifted. There had always been tension between them—lingering glances, heavy silences, jokes with meaning, and many unspoken things passed between them.

Though, down here, with blood-streaked walls and monsters lurking just beyond the light, the tension was electric.

Y/n took a step forward, “Leon…”

But a sound had snapped the moment in half like a piece of plywood breaking over someone’s head.

Click-click…

The lights went out.

Silence.

Then—a scream.

It was inhuman and near.

Just in time, they turned to see a massive creature slam through the ceiling vent—faster and larger than the last one.

Leon shoved Y/n back and fired upward, “Move!” he yelled, retreating toward an access door.

She rolled, drawing both of her pistols, and fired into the creature’s torso.

It didn’t drop, it didn’t even flinch.

“We’ve got a hybrid,” she gasped, “No decay—it’s fresh.”

The monster lunged and Leon tackled Y/n, crashing them into a splintered crate as claws ripped the space where she had just been.

They scrambled to their feet, shaken and scared, “We can’t fight this here,” Y/n shouted, “We need height!”

Leon nodded, “There’s a ladder, back left.”

The creature followed on all fours, its rusted saliva falling from its jowls as they ran towards their only escape.

They climbed, hand over hand into the dark unknown, adrenaline surged—but so did something deeper.

Death was hot on their heels, and something far more dangerous was brewing between them—a bond that transcended mere survival and loyalty.

Something undeniable, something real.

<- Previous Next ->

[jiyascepter]

Midgard Mischief: An Evening in New York

Masterlist

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader

Words: 1,831

Warnings/Content: Fluff. Loki and reader are both Avengers, soft, protective Loki, kissing, mention of other mcu characters (say hello!)

Summary: Loki's first trip to the Earth realm. You take him for an evening out in New York where his protective instincts surface.

A/n: alr first of all let's appreciate this beautiful candid picture of tom. he's so beautiful i can't. i just. can't. this is one of my favourite pictures of him.

Also I needed some suggestions. I'm thinking of writing a series (or more like, parts) ─── 'Midgard Mischief' where the reader & loki visit different places on earth, like they do in this fic. There will be different plots, not connected to each other. How is the idea & if you like it can you suggest some places (countries, famous tourists attractions, random places, anything! ANYTHING!) if possible? It would be a great help! Dms are always welcome !

After a long wait of six months, your boyfriend Loki was finally in Midgard. For the first time. Last time you met him, Thor had invited you to Asgard to fight some dark elves and their leader, Malekith. That’s when you fell in love with his brother, the charming god of mischief.

Today you decided to take Loki out with you and show him around your city like he had when you came to Asgard. But for Loki, it was more like a challenge, almost scary, to face everything in the realm.

The air of Midgard was thick with unfamiliarity— every sound and sight was alien to Loki as he traversed the bustling streets of New York City. His blue eyes darted through the tall skyscrapers, the throngs of people, and the cacophony of noises that assaulted his senses. Layers of confusion built in his mind whenever he saw the bizarre blend of technology and…magic? Is that what it is?

“Images and sounds transmitted through a glowing box? It's like watching a vivid dream unfold before my eyes, except I'm certain no magic was involved. Or was it?” He asks you while you both were passing an electronic shop with many televisions of different sizes on display. “Humans can’t do magic, Loki. I told you before.” You respond with a smile, finding the confused expression on his face too cute.

You were excited for him to be introduced to these things. Things that you used to find normal were a whole new concept to him, and you loved it when he used to listen to you so carefully— the innocent baby-like expression on the almighty god of mischief.

Loki was never one to admit fear. The unfamiliarity of the mortal realm, coupled with the constant possibility of unforeseen dangers, stirred a sense of unease within him. He always had thought mortals were one of the weaker species in all of the nine realms because of shorter life and no knowledge of magic, yet when seen closely, they were a beautiful yet a scary kind. Able to progress so much in a little span of time was fascinating yet frightening at how much these mortals can progress out of curiosity, if given the resources.

Yet, he knew he had to conquer his apprehensions to savor every moment with you, determined to make the most of your time together despite the lurking fear of losing you amidst the chaos of the place.

You take him to Times Square, as what better place could it be for a newcomer to visit?

As you two approach the iconic location, vibrant lights and towering billboards illuminated the night sky, casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the bustling crowds. Loki’s grip on your hand tightens. So many people. Mortals. Unknown mortals. What if you get lost here? What if someone just grabs you away from him? What if he loses the grip on your hand and gets lost and never finds his way back to you?

You smile at Loki’s reaction, thinking he’s just flabbergasted with the scene. "Welcome to Times Square, Loki. This is one of the busiest and most dazzling places on Earth." Loki looks at you and his face softens and glances back at the buildings. "It seems mortals have a penchant for excess.” You chuckle. “Hm…you could say that. But it’s certainly captivating isn’t it?”

“It’s quite…different from Asgard.” He says with a tinge of fascination as well as skepticism. You snicker and nudge him playfully. “Well, that’s the beauty. It’s diverse, chaotic and endlessly surprising.”

You both continue to move along the street, with you leading Loki through the multitude of people. You notice he was holding on to the helm of your top tightly as you move through a narrow space and turn your head and give him an assured smile. “You’re not gonna get lost, Loki.” He huffs, a tinge of red on his cheeks as you point that out. “But you can."

“Come on, I know this place well.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at you. “The place is too crowded, one glance away and you’ll be gone. And let’s not pretend there are no other dangers as well.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What other dangers?”

Just then, a speedy car whizzes by, its blaring horn causing Loki to instinctively pull you closer to him, shielding you from the potential danger. His heart races for a moment, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he realises the precariousness of mortal life in such bustling environments.

"That," he says, his voice low with concern, "is one of them."

You take a breath, still holding on to him tightly after what happened. “That was close.” He looks down at you, stroking the back of your head and looking at you with concern. “See, I told you. How you managed to survive all this time here is beyond my understanding.”

You chuckle. “I’m fine, Loki, and this incident was just a matter of chance.” You lean in and place a comforting peck on his cheek. He scoffs, cheeks red, but not taking in your point.

“Just take care of yourself, that's what I want…” He mumbles, takes your hand, and walks forward with you.

As you continue your stroll through the vibrant streets of Times Square, Loki's protective instincts seemed to have heightened after the car episode. He was keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings, his grip on your hand never loosening.

Suddenly, a street performer dressed as a superhero approaches, causing Loki to tense up. He positions himself between you and the performer, eyeing him warily as if he were ready to defend you from any potential threat.

You can't help but snicker at his overprotective nature, finding it endearing how he's so quick to jump to your defence.

“Easy there, sweetie.” You chuckle, gently tugging on his arm to calm him down. “He’s just a harmless street performer.”

Loki relaxes slightly, but his guard doesn't falter. He shoots the performer a distrustful look before turning his attention back to you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he realises his overreaction.

"Sorry," he mutters sheepishly, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. You’re too precious."

You smile reassuringly, squeezing his hand affectionately. "I know, Loki. But you don't have to worry. I'm safe with you." His face softens and he leans in to place a kiss on your forehead.

Just then, you realise that maybe the hustling roads of Times Square might not be a place of interest for Loki. You hold his hand and start to pull him along with you.

“Where to, my darling?” he asks.

“A museum.”

As you step into the cool, quiet space, Loki's tense shoulders begin to relax, and he takes in the sight of the ancient artifacts and priceless artworks with a sense of wonder.

You guide Loki through the museum, stopping at various exhibits to admire the intricacies of each piece. His eyes light up as he marvels at the craftsmanship of ancient weapons, the delicate beauty of sculptures, and the vibrant colours of centuries-old paintings.

"Impressive," he murmured, a hint of admiration in his voice. "It seems mortals have a talent for capturing beauty."

As you both wandered through the halls, Loki's curiosity was piqued by a particularly striking painting depicting a scene from Norse mythology. He studied it intently, a flicker of recognition crossing his features before he masked it with a smirk.

"Ah, a tribute to my exploits," Loki remarked, his tone laced with amusement. "It seems I've made quite the impression on your kind." You chuckle. “You’re unforgettable, that’s why.” He smirks, then continues reading through the information provided below the exhibits. He liked it here, it was calm, and not many people were visiting at this hour, allowing him to soften his guard a bit.

“You know,” you say with a light smile playing on your face, your voice echoing through the empty hall, “I always had this fantasy to kiss my boyfriend in a museum.”

Loki turns, a grin on his face as he approaches you. “Is that true, darling? And why a museum?”

You blush and look away. “They just used to show it in the movies a lot…” You murmur.

With you talking about movies all the time, he knew what you meant. He cups your cheeks and turns your face back to him. “So I should fulfill the wishes of my beloved like a good lover, shall I not?”

He takes your hand and pulls you into a corner, tugging your hair behind the ear. You attempt to cup his cheeks, but he takes your hands and gently holds on to them, then reaches out to caress your lower lip softly with his thumb.

“Thank you for bringing me here…” he says in a low voice, then lets go of your hands and leans in to meet your lips.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed with desire, Loki gazes into your eyes with a look of adoration and longing. "I never knew a museum could be so…stimulating," he murmurs, his voice husky with eagerness.

You laugh softly, pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. "Well, now you know," you whisper.

x ────

On the following day:

“Jarvis, read the morning news for me.” Tony calls out while walking in the living room of the Avengers compound.

"Sure, sir,” Jarvis says, reading out the heading, ‘Museum Security Footage Captures Romantic Encounter: Mystery Couple Caught in Kiss.'

“In an unexpected turn of events, the security cameras at the renowned Museum of Art and History, New York, have captured a heartwarming moment between two individuals. The footage, obtained by museum authorities during a routine review of surveillance tapes, reveals a tender exchange between two individuals amidst the quiet halls of the museum.

The couple, whose identities remain unknown, can be seen sharing a passionate kiss in a secluded corner of the museum, seemingly unaware of the camera's presence. The footage, which has since gone viral on social media, has sparked speculation and curiosity among museum visitors and online spectators alike.

‘We are currently reviewing the footage and working closely with local law enforcement to identify the individuals involved,’ stated museum director Dr. Rebecca Thompson. ‘While we encourage visitors to appreciate the art and history within our walls, we must also ensure the safety and security of our premises at all times.’ " Jarvis finishes reading.

Tony, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Ugh, seriously? We’re making out in museums now? Can't people save that for the privacy of their own homes? And here I thought Loki was the only one causing mischief around here…" He shakes his head, a look of mock disgust on his face, before turning his attention back to whatever project he has been working on.

Jarvis, in his usual composed tone after running his data on the museum pictures, "Actually, sir-"

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