#but like everything in science they follow SOME rules

[bogleech]

Anyway while we're on the subject of public misconception towards living things (which is completely understandable because have you SEEN living things? There's like dozens of them!) here's a fresh rundown of some common mistakes about bugs!

Arachnids aren't just spiders! They're also scorpions, mites, ticks and some real weirdos out there

Insects with wings are always finished growing! Wings are the last new thing they ever develop! There can never be a "baby bee" that's just a smaller bee flying around.

That said, not all insects have larvae! Many older insect groups do look like little versions of adults....but the wings rule still applies.

Insects do have brains! Lobes and everything!

Only the Hymenoptera (bees, ants and wasps) have stingers like that.

Not all bees and wasps live in colonies with queens

The only non-hymenoptera with queens are termites, which is convergent evolution, because termites are a type of cockroach!

There are still other insects with colonial lifestyles to various degrees which can include special reproductive castes, just not the whole "queen" setup.

Even ants still deviate from that; there are multi-queen ant species, some species where the whole colony is just females who clone themselves and other outliers

There is no "hive mind;" social insects coordinate no differently from schools of fish, flocks of birds, or for that matter crowds of humans! They're just following the same signals together and communicating to each other!

Not all mosquito species carry disease, and not all of them bite people

Mosquitoes ARE ecologically very important and nobody in science ever actually said otherwise

The bite of a black widow is so rarely deadly that the United States doesn't bother stocking antivenin despite hundreds of reported bites per year. It just feels really really bad and they give you painkillers.

Recluse venom does damage skin, but only in the tiny area surrounding the bite. More serious cases are due to this dead skin inviting bacterial infection, and in fact our hospitals don't carry recluse antivenin either; they just prescribe powerful antibiotics, which has been fully effective at treating confirmed bites.

Bed bugs are real actual specific insects

"Cooties" basically are, too; it's old slang for lice

Crane flies aren't "mosquito hawks;" they actually don't eat at all!

Hobo spiders aren't really found to have a dangerous bite, leaving only widows and recluses as North America's "medically significant" spiders

Domestic honeybees actually kill far more people than hornets, including everywhere the giant "murder" hornet naturally occurs.

Wasps are only "less efficient" pollinators in that less pollen sticks to them per wasp. They are still absolutely critical pollinators and many flowers are pollinated by wasps exclusively.

Flies are also as important or more important to pollination than bees.

For "per insect" pollination efficiency it's now believed that moths also beat bees

Honeybees are non-native to most of the world and not great for the local ecosystem, they're just essential to us and our food industry

Getting a botfly is unpleasant and can become painful, but they aren't actually dangerous and they don't eat your flesh; they essentially push the flesh out of the way to create a chamber and they feed on fluids your immune system keeps making in response to the intrusion. They also keep this chamber free of bacterial infection because that would harm them too!

Botflies also exist in most parts of the world, but only one species specializes partially in humans (and primates in general, but can make do with a few other hosts)

"Kissing bugs" are a group of a couple unusual species of assassin bug. Only the kissing bugs evolved to feed on blood; other assassin bugs just eat other insects.

[nyancrimew]

Hacking and coding isn’t that hard. This isn’t to discredit your worth ethic and accomplishments (I deeply admire you) it’s a PSA to your followers.

Is there an internet cat whose deeds you’d like to emulate?

Take a little time and learn how the tech you interact with every day works. You’d be surprised at how “simple” most machines are. How vulnerable you personally are.

People see the long streams of numbers and words and get psyched out. But really you just need to learn rules. Some coding classes are like 3 months long. It’s a learnable hobby in your own time like baking.

yeah! a big part of why i do the work i do (primarily as like a "science communicator" type girlie for hacking/activism rly) is that i am trying to show people they can do things like that and show that curiosity rly is everything :) that's why u try to keep my technical writing as accessible as possible as well

[taraa-dactyl]

𝖀𝖓𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘

Masterlist

A/N -> Horny on main for this mf, heads up idk how to write steamy scenes and this is slightly unedited because im writing this at 5am.

Pairing -> Jake Sully x f!Reader

Summary -> Set during the events of Avatar (2009) Jake Sully is your escort through the forest as you complete fieldwork, he unknowingly comes into contact with a potent plant that causes ruts in Na’vi.

Warnings -> nsfw, p in v, cunnilingus, sex pollen, not enemies to lovers but nuisance to lovers, Na’vi!Jake x Human reader, ruts. MDNI

word count -> 2.6K

You’d been swamped since your return back to work, taking two weeks for yourself was definitely worth it to protect your sanity and reduce the chances of a burn out. However, now in an attempt to make up for the work you had missed you found yourself working late nights and early mornings, nose practically pressed to your tablet as you wrote up papers on your samples. 

You were finally given the green light to complete your own fieldwork on the condition that you had an escort with you at all times, most commonly an avatar driver. Norm was good company because you were able to bond over your mutual passion for science and the Na’vi culture. You did tend to grow exasperated when he monitored and micromanaged your work, committed to doing your work by the book, rules set by the RDA. 

Grace was way too busy to babysit you as you picked and trifled different plants and herbs, when she could be connecting with the Omatikayan people. Which left you with Jake, the perfect candidate as he was not only an avatar driver but also had a military background. 

It wasn’t that the two of you didn’t get along but you tended to butt heads over your work, he didn’t understand why your field of research was botany when scientists could be better utilised studying and researching the Omatikaya, clearly a connection and new respect for the people had formed since training with Neytiri.

Obviously he had no room to talk as he wasn’t even a scientist but that didn’t prevent him from voicing his opinions, which was definitely exacerbated by Grace and Norm’s allegiance to you.

Which brought you to this, trudging through the forest following the map downloaded on your tablet with a disgruntled ten foot tall Jake grumpily following behind you, muttering to himself about how he clearly knew more about the Na’vi because of his connection with the clan, despite you having years of training and study before you were allowed to go on the mission. Egotistical asshole. 

There was no arguing with Jake because it seemed like no matter what you said to him to defend yourself was met with laughter, clearly enjoying riling you up and getting a reaction out of you. Skxáwng didn’t feel like a strong enough word for him. 

“Are you nearly done, I need to check in with Grace before I go train with Neytiri. We’ve been out here for nearly an hour, surely you have everything you need by now.” He’s borderline whining as he playfully swats overhanging leaves out of his way.

“Calm your damn tits, I’m nearly done, it just takes a while to actually extract the samples.” You huff out with a roll of your eyes.

“Ugh I don’t have time for this, I’m supposed to go hunting with some of the warriors today.” His whining is endless, you think to yourself.

You attempt to stifle your anger with a sharp inhale. 

“You are more than welcome to leave, so I can get this done in peace. Besides, Hell’s Gate is nearby.”

“Mmm, actually I can’t. In case you haven’t noticed Grace will have me by the balls if I just leave you out here. Also you’re practically defenceless out here.” His patronising ends with a snort.

Unimpressed, you side eye him. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you may have an Avatar body but you're still human underneath that.” He doesn’t want to admit that it causes a pang within him.

He doesn’t respond, just walks past you to lead the way, pulling a rather large branch out of the way, waiting for you to walk through.

You finally set your equipment at the base of a tree where unruly moss sprouts and prepare your tools to harvest it.  

Jake continues to babble on behind you voicing his dissatisfaction and urges you to hurry up. You ignore the grunt he lets out when he sags to the floor, which soon turns to exaggerated sighing. You’re so focused on your work that you don’t notice when he runs his fingers over the plants around him with abandon. A patch of cerulean blue growths hidden from your view when you first walked into the clearing are the first thing he touches, enjoying the texture on his fingers as he picks at it and rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. 

You only pull out of the trance that you find yourself in when focusing when his sighing ceases, the sudden silence a forewarning. 

Jake stifles the urge to burst out laughing when he sees the size of your widened eyes, almost bursting out of their sockets.

“What? I’m letting you focus.” The blue coats his fingers now.

“Oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?” His prominent eyebrows knit together.

“Oh my god.”

He’s alarmed now. “Can you say anything other than oh my god?”

“Jake those are microspores, why would you touch a random plant?” Your voice is a whisper as you stare at him in disbelief.

“Eh it’s fine, it’s just a random plant.” He shrugs.

“No! It’s not fine, that random plant has spores on it that can trigger Na’vi ruts!” You exclaim, thumb and forefingers pinched together as you enunciate each word. His understanding of the situation dawns on him. 

“You mean- like the horny animal thing?” Not how you would describe it but you nod anyway.

You voice your thoughts as they run through your mind. “Okay, okay, I’ll take you to Grace-no what could she possibly do? Maybe the Tsahik or healers, surely they have a treatment to prevent it. Ok, yes.” You nod in finality.

Your tools are swiftly packed away as you usher Jake towards Hometree with urgency. He follows you blindly as you drag him by the forearm, he’s careful to slow his steps so he doesn’t bump into you. 

You find yourselves jogging through the forest with abandon, no longer attempting to clear branches and debris from the path. Jake’s steps begin to slow as you’re about halfway to Hometree and you glance back in confusion. 

“I don’t think you understand the severity of your predicament, we have to get you to the Tsahik before it kicks in.” You tug on his arm in an attempt to get him moving again. When you turn to face him, his large chest is heaving in an attempt to get enough air to his lungs. 

He licks his lips and breaks it to you with a shaky sigh, “I- I won’t get there in time, listen to me closely I need you to get to the Tsahik and tell her what is happening, tell her I sent you and ask for an escort back to Hell’s Gate.”

“What! No, c’mon we’re almost there.” Your confusion is palpable.  

He says your name to gather your attention. “If you don’t leave now, I won’t be able to control myself…around you.” He’s hesitant to add the end of the sentence.

You don’t budge, mind already made up.

“Jake, I’m not leaving you. we’ll work something out, surely a hunter or someone wandering will find us.” You’re urging him to go along with you.

His lips part and quiver as he finds the words to say. “I’m…out of time, it’s starting. If you don’t go now I will not be able to restrain myself.” 

You double down on your stance and come to a decision, “Fine, then don’t, because I’m not leaving.” You hold eye contact in the hopes he will understand your meaning. Thankfully he does.

He attempts to say something but quickly abandons it, bending at the waist to pull you close to him, chests flush together. His glazed eyes stare into yours hazy with lust, a final questioning for permission. A searing and hungry kiss is all he needs before his palm grasps your jaw, in an effort to deepen the kiss. Your lips part, his tongue enters and you’re hyper aware of your shared breaths mingling and intertwining with one and other. 

You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly you feel the effects of Jake in your senses, his masculine scent invades your nose, comforting and enticing all at once. You’re almost dizzy from his strong chest and muscled arms pulling you as close as possible. Weak knees force you to rely on him to hold you up and keep you from toppling over, surrendering to his hold. You’re thankful you can’t form Tsaheylu because he would feel the immediate reaction the stimulation has on you, nipples swelling and pressing against the thin material of your shirt, a slick wetness growing between your folds. 

He’s hesitant to pull apart from the kiss, finally concedes and forces the words out. “This is not how I wanted to do this. I wanted to take you out, wanted to take care of you.” He’s distracted by your lips, his breaths puff against your swollen lips. You glance up at him in confusion but let the thought go when he delves back into you.

He cups your cheeks gently as he plants all the passion and lust he’s clouded with onto you. You're forced to hold onto the backs of his hands as he walks you backwards till you’re leaving against the smooth bark of a tree. 

Now that you have some stability he parts from your body, planting kisses down the slopes of your face arriving at the innermost sensitive skin of your neck. He kisses, nips and suckles causing your eyes to fall shut once again and you can’t control the breathy gasps and quiet moans that escape through your parted lips.

Your head thumps back against the bark resulting in Jake’s new focus being your heaving breasts, that he has to admit look enticing. He abandons his task and is quick to grope at them before giving up and scrambling to pull the hem of your cotton shirt up and over your head. The folds of your skin and weight of your breasts jostle, he takes a moment to take in your form in all of its glory. Soft and delicate in comparison to his hardened warrior physique. 

His plump lips attach to your perked nipple, sucking and licking over and over until the sensitivity takes a hold of you, producing a moan from you. You want to smack him when you feel his lips quirk into a smirk, instead settling on running through the long tresses of his hair, groping and palming his queue. He whimpers, and now it’s your turn to smirk. Large hands trace down your ribs then stomach, kneading and pushing into the skin.

He pulls away from you, swiftly dropping to his knees, now level with your crotch. He looks up at you sending you a comforting smile that turns cheeky when he slides his hands around and gives your ass a squeeze. You blush and can’t suppress the shy smile that takes over your features.

You want to laugh and simultaneously aw while he scrambles to untie your boots and slide them off your feet.

All his focus is put on pulling your belt open and popping the button of your tactical pants, promptly sliding them and your underwear down your legs and holding the backs of each calf as you step out of them. 

Finally bare in front of him, he places a wet kiss to the space above your mound and slinks down to lick up your slit, lapping up and down before finally landing where you want him. Darting his tongue in fast circles on your clit and sucking softly which changes pace every so often. He continues on the seconds trickling into minutes before finally pulling away, your slick stringing from his lips. He goes back to pepper a few more kisses along your pussy, before pulling away again with a shake of his head.

“No, I’m going to have you around my cock when you cum.” There’s no room for argument when he pulls at you and moulds you into the position he wants. Your back is pressed into the forest floor, legs pulled apart and bent. His patience wears thin and is apparent when he pulls roughly at the ties of his loincloth, removing the offending material. He spreads the sticky fluid around the tip of his cock and pumps it, hips stuttering into his fist.

You’re entranced by the stripped pattern around his member, large and pulsating and prepare yourself.

The spores have full control of him now desperation and lust all culminating in him yanking you further closer to him by your thighs, he finally has you where he wants you. He slides his cock against your sticky folds, grinding on you before pulling back and aligning his head with your entrance. 

As he pushes in slowly, careful to not hurt you, the stretch is delicious pulling a loud high-pitched moan from deep within you. Heat flares all over your body, your eyes close in ecstasy as he pushes further and further into your wet heat. When he bottoms out and your clit is flush with his skin you take in a breath in an attempt to compose yourself. 

Slow pumps in and out give away, he’s unstoppable now, a brutal place that reminds you he’s under the effect of this carnal rut. He burrows into your neck placing more kisses across your glistening skin.

A resounding wet pap occurs every time he pushes back in, slick and sweat coats both of your skin, blending together, and you don’t know where he ends and you begin. He’s everything you’ve ever known and all you want, there are no words to describe the passion and connection you feel, undoubtedly reciprocated by him.

Grunts and moans echo throughout the immense forest, pure pleasure and fulfilment between the two of you. You’re hiding your face in his neck, it does nothing to muffle your moans and unrelenting gasps. 

You both make the steady climb to the apex of your orgasms, pleasure building steadily in the pit of your stomach as he hits the soft spot deep in you over and over, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

He reads you so easily. “I’m not pulling out.” There’s no room for argument, though realistically you don’t have one.

All you can do is nod against him as you stammer out that you’re close.

You finally reach your peak, pulsing and clenching around his cock, somehow more slick runs down his length and a long drawn out moan is inescapable. You look up at him wanting to memorise the lines and groves of his face, the white dots and freckles spread across the bridge of his nose. He stares deep into your glassy eyes and lets out a stuttering breath, eyebrows raising when he joins you at the peak. 

Warmth spreads within you as his hips stutter against you, gasping breaths intermingling, enjoying the remnants of the shared orgasm. 

When you both stop grinding and moving against one another's body, you remain like that, coiled within each other soaking up the aftermath. When he’s ready to move, he pulls out with a final deep groan, potent seed slowly dripping out of your sensitive cunt and trickles down to your puckered asshole.

“Beautiful.” He mutters with appreciation.

You untangle from one another and he shapes your malleable form onto your side and settles behind you, face nestling into your neck, sweat cooling. You both lie there in the afterglow, clouded with pleasure and slight surprise about what just occurred. He places another kiss to the notch at the back of your neck, sighing in content. 

After a couple of minutes lying there basking in the exaltation, you break the silence. 

“What did you mean this isn’t how you wanted it to go?”

The haze of his rut has subsided, and he’s finally able to conceive a coherent thought. He chuckles before answering, “I was gonna wine and dine you, that is when I could grow up and stop annoying you.” 

“I’m definitely a lot less annoyed with you now.”

[fishsticksloser]

I hope you’re having a good day and that your mojo runs strong ✨

Do you suppose we could have some mild angst comfort where the reader is a witch and (gently but firmly) confronts Donnie about his indifference towards magic? Like, they understand that mystics just aren’t his thing, but the way he kind of treats it like a joke or tries to explain it with science bothers them, because magic isn’t just something they dabble in, it’s their lifeblood.

Please, and thank you 🔮

Magical Intervention

Donnie + gn!reader

Warning: witch!reader, slight angst, Donnie apologizes, swearing, super short ngl

A/N: December is here... Feels weird...

Donnie had always kind of made fun of your magic. He always tried to explain away your spells with science. You hated it. You didn't even know why he was like this, his brothers couldn't tell you either. So you eventually got sick of it and decided to ask him about it.

You grabbed a spare chair and roll up to him. "Can I help you?" He asks, turning to look at you for moment before turning back to whatever he was working on.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something." You answer, fidgeting a little. He looks intimidating, resting bitch face, goggles down, covered in oil and soot. Can anyone really blame you?

Donnie frown a little, lifting his goggles to look at you. "Okay?"

"Why do you hate magic?" You question simply.

Donnie raises an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. He tilts his head to the side, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please do enlighten me. Why would I, the great Donatello Hamato, have any disdain for the mystical and whimsical world of magic?" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Simple, my dear. Science is the epitome of reason, logic, and understanding. It follows a set of rules, laws, and principles that can be tested, observed, and replicated. Magic, on the other hand, is nothing by smoke and mirrors, a mere illusion designed to deceive the feeble-minded. Why would I waste my time on something so... Unpredictable and unreliable when I have the wonders of science at my fingertips?"

"But it's who I am. It's in my blood." You reply, sitting up and frowning at him. "Science to me is like magic to you. My family is full of magical people, including me."

Donnie's eyes widen slightly, surprised by your words. He takes a moment to process what you've said, and a hint of curiosity flickers in his expression. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his voice a mix of intrigue and skepticism. "Well, if it's in your blood, then it's part of who you are. I suppose I can understand that. But you must understand that my faith lies in the tangible, it what can be measured and understood. Magic, to me, is enigma, and unexplained phenomenon that defies the laws of science. It challenges everything that I believe in." He pauses, his gaze meeting yours. "But I won't deny that there might be more to it than what I can comprehend. After all, the world is a vast and mysterious place, is it not?"

"Of course it is. And I know I'll never be as good with science as you are. But... I wish you'd stop treating magic as a joke and explain away my abilities with science." Your gaze stays locked with his, explaining gently. "It makes me feel like you think of me as a joke."

Donnie's expression softens, his eyes showing a hint of remorse. He uncrosses his arms and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table in front of him. "Look, I never meant to make you feel like a joke. I may have a tendency to dismiss magic, but that doesn't mean I dismiss you. Your abilities, your uniqueness, they are what makes you who you are. And I respect that." He pauses, searching for the right words. "I may not understand or appreciate magic, but I can recognize its significance in your life. And I... I apologize if I ever made you feel otherwise."

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I just... I've been wanting to explain it and let you know how I've felt." You sigh, feeling a weight listed off your shoulders.

"Well, I appreciate your honesty. It takes courage to express your feelings and I'm glad you did. Communication is key after all." Donnie nods, a faint smile playing on his lips. He stands, walking over to you, wrapping into his arms. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to understand you better."

[taffycandyqt]

How do you think the 2003 tmnt boys would deal with a really smart s/o who is not very good at picking up on hints and always needs the direct approach socially and they’re always upfront themselves too cuz they don’t even know how to do hints? donnie is speaking in pig latin, hinting at something and s/o is like “… what?…” They understand his science nerd talk, but him socially hinting at something discreetly goes over s/o’s head completely or back before they were a couple “What? You like me? I thought you was just being nice… I’m so glad though. I like you too”?

Sorry if this wasn't exactly what you asked for😓 I started writing and the characters just wrote themselves.

Masterpost

Request Rules

Take a Hint!

2003 turtles (seperate) x reader

warnings: none

fluff

Leo:

Let's be honest, all the turtles are just really bad at flirting.

I mean, they've lived in the sewer their whole lives and the first girl they ever met was April.

Leo doesn't really know much about love but he is determined to romance you.

He'll start watching a bunch of movies with Mikey.

Mikey will be a little less than pleased that they all have to be romance or have romance in them but who is he to judge his brothers movie taste?

He's just happy to spend more time with Leo where he isn't being the leader.

Back to Leo though, dude tries everything to seduce you.

He gets you flowers, makes you food, takes you out, heck he even learns to dance for you.

And somehow. You don't get it.

Leos not even trying to hide it at this point.

You don't even pick up on his feelings when his brothers tease him for it IN FRONT OF YOU.

You're so dense.

April tries to help you connect the dots but your brain ain't braining apparently.

She ends up telling Leo that your not gonna get it unless he tells you straight up.

Leo isn't to thrilled about that.

He's not used to this romance thing and now he has to put himself in such a position of emotional vulnerability?

It's not that he thinks you'll be mean to him, but not knowing wether you feel the same way offers too many unknowns for him to be comfortable.

Eventually though, after a bit of back and forth with himself he'll tell you.

A moment ago you were playing games with Mikey and Donny while enjoying some pizza. Now your following Leo out of the lair and far away from the pizza you wanted to finish. You just know Mikey is gonna eat it. You try and keep your focus on the pizza you left in the lair to distract yourself from Leo. Him and his gentle touches as he tries to help you onto a building rooftop. To distract from the fact of just how alone you two were. From the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when he turned to look at you.

The sky was dark but the city lit your faces. The lights of buildings and cars glittering from far away. The wind brushed past you both as you kinda just stood there. Leo had said he wanted to talk to you yet he hasn't done a lick of talking after taking you out here.

"Leo?" You voiced. It was a bit difficult to speak since the silence seems to palpable. He blinked and adjusted like you had caught him off guard. Which you kinda did. He had made up his mind to tell you how he felt but in his spontaneous decision making he didn't actually think of how. So he had spent the time staring into space spiralling about how to say it.

"Y/n I-" he began, "I wanted to tell you..... Um."

You were starting to get really worried now. Leo never stuttered, he never acted like this.

"Is something wrong Leo?" Your voice laced with concern.

"Wha-? No! I mean... everything's fine! I promise.."

You reached out and rested your hand on his shoulder.

"Take your time," you looked him in the eye, "if nothing's wrong then there's no need to rush." You smiled at him encouragingly.

Leo sighed and tried to clear his mind. You were right, there is nothing wrong. As your hand slipped off his shoulder he looked you in the eye.

The gentle breeze brushed past you both. Your eyes met his and he felt completely entranced by you. The lights of the city highlighting your silhouette making you glow. He felt hot in the face and he couldn't help but take a shallow breath before speaking.

"Y/n, I think I'm in love with you."

Raph:

Raph is probably the least in tune with his feelings out of all his brothers.

It's not that he dislikes being vulnerable, he has been vulnerable multiple times with the people he cares about.

But that's just the thing, he cares about them and he knows they care about him. He's safe.

He doesn't feel particularly unsafe being vulnerable with you.

Honestly you safe presence when he's being vulnerable is probably one of the reasons he fell for you in the first place.

It's just that he hates feeling lesser than.

He has virtually no experience with these types of feelings and interactions.

So the idea of telling you makes him feel like he's being put in a situation where he is seen as naive and inexperienced.

And out of everyone in the world, your the last person he'd want to see him that way.

So he'll do literally ANYTHING to get you to figure it out other then the direct approach.

Even takes advise from Mikey of all people.

From genuinely loving and welcome surprises to stupidly humiliating himself Raph has thrown every subtle and not so subtle hint at you.

Yet no matter what he does you just aren't getting it.

Mikey has been "helping him" with some not so great ideas so when he suggests the direct approach Raph though ABSOLUTELY NOT.

It would take a lot of time and everyone, even Splinter, telling him to be direct before he even considers it.

When he finally decides to go through with it? He is not happy. Not at all.

But at this point what other choice does he have?

You, Raph, and Casey had been out "patrolling" the city. "Patrolling" being the excuse for motorcycle racing around the city whilst ignoring traffic laws. Why where you invited? Simple. There are only two motorcycles. Casey's and Raphs.

You were clutching onto Raph for dear life as he raced around the New York city streets. Normally Raph would be doing all kinds of stunts jumping over or sliding under different obstacles as a way to gloat to Casey. But he didn't want to jerk you around too much. Especially with the death grip your keeping on his shell.

Also because this wasn't really a race. He asked Casey to pretend this was a race so he could drive you somewhere. That all Casey knew, no matter how many times he asked why Raph never said. So while Raph took his turns around the city Casey made is way back to the lair making it seem to you that Raph had beat him in the race.

As Raph slowed the bike you noticed you were at the park. It was dark out so lamps illuminated the path. There were some people walking around but not many, if Raph was careful and stuck to the shadows he should be fine. The park was almost peaceful if it weren't for the constant and eternal bustling of the city.

"Is this the finish line?" You asked, still convinced there was a race.

"Uhhhh, yeah. But we left Casey pretty far back there so... We might as well walk around," Raph eyed you unsure, "I mean it beats sitting here waiting for that slow poke to catch up."

"Sure sounds like fun."

And with that you both set off on a short walk through the park. Not wanting to be seen by any unsuspecting passerby you both stuck to walking behind the trees and bushes lining the path.

You both talked about nothing in particular. You just spent time enjoying eachothers company and it did Raph some good to calm his nerves. He had tried everything under the sun to tell you how he feels and you still don't seem to get it. Well everything but actually telling you. He didn't want to, but he was going to. Tonight.

As you both turned a corner lined by shrubbery you noticed how trees completely secluded the area ahead of you. No one could could see in or out unless the took the path you and Raph did. As you both decide to take a seat on the grass and just enjoy the night Raph felt his nerves come back to tie up his guts.

You both sat for a while, not speaking. I comfortable for you. A heavy one for Raph. Eventually it got to the point where if he didn't say something now, the perfect time, he knew he never would.

So without looking at you, or any warning, he won't for it.

"I love you."

Donny:

Donny LOVES subtlety.

Science is all about those subtle differences that can alter an entire study.

And BOY was he good at subtlety.

He would use relations between different parts of his project to hint at his feelings for you.

He would do that thing where the person would come up behind you and put their hands over yours to help direct you.

Stuff like that.

Did it make you blush? Yes.

Did it get his feelings across to you?

Ha ha

No.

He literally doesn't know what he's doing wrong.

After a while BB is so close to believing that you just don't feel the same until Splinter suggests being direct with you.

He would just stare at Master Splinter in the most 'I didn't about that's type of way.

He just didn't think that was something that people did ya know?

He never considered it cuz he just never did.

He's not embarrassed about his feelings, though he may be a little flustered.

He feels so dumb after the suggestion was made.

Bro was like, how did I never think of that.

Now that he knows though, he is going straight to you.

You were playing cards with Splinter and Raph when Donny approached you.

"Y/n!" He said with a smile on his face.

"Hey D! What's up?"

"Actually, now that you ask," he rubbed the back of his neck "I was wondering if I could speak with you in private for a moment?"

"Oh uhhhh, sure, just. Let me find someone to give my hand to."

"Splinter grabbed your cards from your hand, Michelangelo!"

"Yeeeeeess?" Mikey looked over the back of the couch to where you were playing.

"Come here, you are playing in place of y/n" he said waving Mikey over.

You cringed, you were doing so well! You may not have beat Splinter but you were beating Raph!

"Oh oh, I like where this game is headin'," Raph grinned.

You groaned, Mikey was totally going to ruin whatever victory you had in mind.

Regardless, after everything with the game was settled you followed Donny out of the lair and into the turtle van parked in the garage. Donny was fidgeting with his fingers the whole way there. It set a sort of awkward tone for the silence. You were also slightly concerned too, it wasn't like Donny to be nervous and fidgety. Awkward, sure. Nervous? No.

When you took your seat in the van Donny sat himself right across from you, though he didn't look you in the eye.

"So what's up Donny? Is something wrong?"

"Oh no! Not wrong perse," he finally looked at you, "Just trying to figure out how exactly I want to word this."

You were getting more nervous by the second. What was he going to tell you. He always had the right words to articulate what he's thinking. Why now is it difficult? You started picking at your fingers waiting for him to speak again.

"Okay, I think I've got it!" He said turning to look you fully in the eye now.

"Y/n, you have always been one of my closest friends. I enjoy our conversations and having you around makes me smile,"

This could being in their a really good direction or a really bad one but all you knew is that you were really confused.

"However recently my feelings have developed into something a bit... more," he paused. His chest tightened and his stomach felt hollow.

"I don't want to hide my feelings or pretend like they're not there. I understand if you can't return my feelings but I figure it's only fair that you know that I.." he reached out and put your hand in his, "I'm in love with you."

Mikey:

Out of all of them I feel like Mikey is the most likely to be direct.

If he's not it is solely because he's embarrassed.

Dude will blush and giggle at you like a flustered school girl.

It honestly looks so stupid but in a strangely endearing way.

When Mikey tries to be subtle with his feelings about you it doesn't work.

To an outside viewer it doesn't look like he's trying at all.

He is though.

He really is🥲

So it's safe to say that when the revelation is made that you didn't know, everyone was kinda shocked.

(Raph might have called you dumb)

They probably confronted you about Mikeys feelings, after assuming that you already knew and didn't reciprocate, hence your lack of action.

They'd be all, 'look your our friend but if you don't like Mikey you need to tell him so he can get over you'

And you'll just sit there like, 'but I do like Mikey, what do you mean????'

Once you figure out that they mean ROMANTIC feelings Mikey will be horrified that they told you.

"You have a crush on me?" You asked Mikey curiously.

"Wha- WHA- WHAT?!!"

You were sitting on the couch while Mikeys brothers surrounded you. They were trying to tell you something about letting Mikey down easy. It took a while for you to understand what they were saying but when you finally did you were shocked. You had no idea. So when Mikey came from the kitchen with his normal carefree attitude, asking him was all you could think to say.

"WHO TOLD YOU THAT!" Mikey panicked and looked at his brothers with a mix of betrayal and embarrassment, "DUDES??!"

"Eheh. Sorry Mikey, we thought they already knew," Donny shrugged. He felt bad for outing his brother but what's done is done.

"If we had known they were more dense then you we wouldn't have said anything," Raph told him slightly peeved.

"HEY!" you frowned at Raph.

"YOU TOLD THEM!!" Mikey was in full jittery panic at this point.

"We thought they already knew considering how... obvious, you've been. We thought they were leading you on," Leo explained, "We didn't mean to tell them Mikey." Leo looked apologetic.

"I think we should leave you two to talk about this," Leo told the others and led them somewhere else in the lair.

You and Mikey didn't move. He stood there starring at the floor while you were starring at him.

"So was what they were saying right? Do you have... feelings for me?"

"I... umm... yeah," Mikey told you, completely red in the face.

"Well that's good," you giggled.

"huh?"

"I do too."

[theresattrpgforthat]

I'd be interested in any dieselpunk or clockpunk recommendations you have, particularly if you play as some sort of inventor.

Theme: Clockpunk & Dieselpunk

Hello friend, I’ve got a decent number of Clockpunk or Dieselpunk settings, and while I think there might be be individual character options that allow you to play something of an inventor, I don’t think there’s anything in which you solely play as inventors. Perhaps some of my followers know of some though!

Tomorrow City, by Osprey Publishing.

Tomorrow City was one of the cities of the future, built to usher in a new age of prosperity, seizing upon scientific achievements at the dawn of the twentieth century. Then came the War. Radium-powered soldiers assembled, diesel-fuelled nightmares rolled off production lines, city fought city, and the world burned in atomic fire.

Tomorrow City still stands, an oil-stained beacon of hope, part-refuge, part-asylum. Beset by dangers from both within and without, a secret war now rages on its streets. Diesel-born monstrosities stalk the alleyways, air pirates strike from the wastelands, mad scientists continue their dark work, occultists manipulate the city’s strange geometry, and secret societies plot in the shadows.

Tomorrow City is a roleplaying game of dark science and dieselpunk action. Swift and simple character creation and an easy-to-learn dice pool system places the emphasis on unique personalities and the momentum of the plot. Join the Underground and fight the crime and corruption at the heart of the city. Sell your dieselpunk tech, occult knowledge, and sheer grit as troubleshooters for mysterious paymasters. Hunt down spies, saboteurs, and science-run-amok. As weary sky rangers, fringe scientists, and radium-powered veterans, you might be all that stands between a better tomorrow and no tomorrow at all.

This is a game that pools together your positive and negative character tags, has you roll for both and aim to come out on top. Gear is very important here, and acts as a great vehicle for communicating the kind of world that you’re living in. I don’t own this game so I can’t speak to much more than that, but if there is a big focus on gear, I’d assume that having a character that can create that gear or make it better would be fairly easy to make in this game.

Age of Steel, by Isolation Games.

Age of Steel is a dieselpunk roleplaying game set in the world of Neres; a world not unlike our own in the first few decades of the 20th century. Neres has just emerged from its first global conflict; the ‘Great War’ in which hundreds of thousands of men and women died in the mud and horror of the trenches.

Technology in Neres has taken a slightly different route to our own world; personal mecha powered by diesel engines are used for numerous applications from war to common labour; huge airships ply the airways; bipedal automata act as servants for the rich and gadgeteer inventors construct homemade ray-guns in their basement laboratories.

In the wake of the Great War, Neres is a hotbed of political scheming and economic growth. Industry and commerce have come to rule the world which, thanks to the airship, aeroplane and radio is rapidly becoming smaller. Little do the majority of people know but an ancient evil is at the heart of the conflict in their world. Eldritch monstrosities from before the dawn of time seek to unmake reality, aided by cults of insane worshippers. Into this world come the heroes -the players- who are the only thing standing between the cosmic evil and all that they hold dear.

Age of Steel uses d6s as the base for their rules, and characters are built using a point-buy system, meaning that instead of character classes, you can custom-design your character as you see fit. I think that since everything about your character is customizable, there may be some options that would help you construct an inventor-like character.

One piece of your character is your backgrounds - that is, what assets your character has to pull from as they play. Some of these assets include Cash, a Job, a Reputation, and a Personal Vehicle. Since the release of the base game, the designer has also added a free supplement called Better Backgorunds, which also includes some more character options when it comes to assets.

Steel Horizons, by Wandering Pilgrim Games.

Steel Horizons is a Dieselpunk TTRPG set on the continent of Algara. It has been 43 years since the discovery of the powerful mineral, Pyricium, which jumpstarted technology ahead decades and began the 3rd Age.

In this new world, the nations of Algara have barely survived the Great War, fought over the precious Pyricium deposits, and now seek to rebuild themselves even greater than before with the might of their technologies and cultural advancements. Using the combined power of diesel fuel, pyric energy, and the brute strength of man, the world presses ever forward.

You play as a Wanderer, a traveller making their way across the land in search of their own legacy. By choosing your own Archetype and customizable Background, you can create the Wanderer you want to tell the best story!

This is a custom system that uses d12’s for all of your rolls. While Steel Horizons is meant to be a complete setting, the creator’s overarching goal appears to be a core set of rules that can be used in a number of different settings. Currently there’s the Quickstart Guide (linked in title) that is meant to bring you through character creation and gives you some example encounters, but you can also get the Lore Keeper Codex for the Hydra System, which is the base rules without setting details, as well as the Player’s Guide, which introduces new character options for you to play with.

Clocks and Punks, by Ikari.

You are misfits in the mega city Meccavena, dwelling in your precious hideout, the Sanctuary, looking for your next gig. Your gang leader, Archelle, has dosed into an endless sleep after she stole the Anomaly Device from the Clockmaker's tower. Now, it's your job to regroup and explore that crazy, conspiracy-infused, clockwork powered city, and maybe find a way to wake Archelle up!

Clocks and Punks is a rules-light, clockpunk inspired hack on the Lasers and Feelings RPG by John Harper. As is the standard for games of this type, your characters will enter play with a goal already in mind, but how they decide to go about achieving that goal is up to them.

If you want to create an inventor character you certainly can - there are Artificer and Alchemist roles that might fit that niche, and you can create a character goal that encourages you to create or invent. You can also make your character better at CLOCK tasks, giving them an advantage when performing tasks that require precision or technical aptitude.

This game is best for a group that wants a short session, or minimal bookkeeping. It’s probably also easier to run if you have experience playing ttrpgs before, just because there’s not a lot of room for GM guidance on a single page,

Flying Fortress, by Planet Gnome.

Flying Fortress is a trifold pamphlet RPG about pulp adventure, diesel punks, and airship pirates.

This is a hack of Into the Odd and Electric Bastionland by Chris McDowall, and should be compatible with any other Mark of the Odd games.

What I really enjoy about pamphlet games is that they provide a lot of neatly organized information that is easy to navigate. This game has your character sheet on one tab, rules on another, gear on another, and then information on the back for the person running the game - things like potential enemies, factions, and roll tables. There’s no particular inventor role per se, but there are Aristocrat and Mechanic options that I think you could tailor to be more about invention if you wish.

The biggest downside to this game is that it dedicates all of its space to game info, and leaves no room for world-building, so the setting you place yourself in is going to have to be crafted whole-cloth by the play group. Then again, if your GM is a natural world-builder, maybe that’s an asset rather than a downside!

Goblins in Shadow, by Color Spray Games.

GOBLINS IN SHADOW is a roleplaying game about goblin resistance and revolution in an age of elven oppression. It’s a world of clockwork and magic, of smoke and shadow.

Players will take on the roles of a cell of goblin revolutionaries, working to undermine the elves and humans who have conquered their homeland and built an empire on its corpse. They’ll advance their goals by taking on scores, missions that gather sympathy for their cause or take direct action against their oppressors, ending in a final attempt to assassinate one of the elven ministers ruling the city. To do that, they’ll need to avoid being caught by the Watch or the Hounds, the elite special police of the city; they’ll also need to balance their obligations to the various factions of the city, as well as their own personal obligations.

The rule of elves will be broken by goblins in shadow.

As a Forged in the Dark game, this will likely be familiar to anyone who has played Blades or similar games. The core of this game is about combat, and the setting around it is clockwork. If you want to play an inventor type character, there looks to be a playbook called The Hand, equipped for sabotage and front-lines engineering. Just through skimming the playbooks I feel like a lot of pieces of the world around you are baked into your playbooks - for example, the Hand might have been branded by an entropic form of goblin magic that allows you to invoke rapid decay or drain life. Now that’s evocative!

[bucknastysbabe]

Hey look I finished an AU bingo ask! I enjoyed this one so much💖 I felt the brain cooking making up and putting together actual smart people science words. Thanks for the request!

AU bingo - Sci-fi Horror - Aemond Targaryen

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Murder AI Aemond, obsessive/stalking behaviors, TW TW TW: NONCON AND DUBCON. The noncon is not a full scene but warning, non-descript mass murder, scientist!reader, nanotechnology, spaceship setting, somewhere far in the future, pnv!sex, masturbation, Aemond kinda has a mommy kink if you squint and a Bible quote kink lmfao, v!fingering, manipulation, space odyssey gone wrong trope

A/N: No beta I’ll prob come back and fix some shit soon

The ship landed with a faint thud on the green, green exo-planet. You followed Aemond along quietly, meek, fearful, broken. Coming down the unfurled slanted walkway a sweet smell hit your senses. Miles of flowery fields waved, a perfect breathable atmosphere. In the distance, avian-like creatures tittered. A fragment of peace was in your tattered soul.

He hummed softly, gesturing to the beauty.

"God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’”

You felt that Aemond was the serpent and remained quiet, breathing in the fresh air. Nothing like home. Maybe you could start anew. The man turned to look, stating, “But we’re God. We have a duty. We shall make this planet everything that Earth has failed to do. Join me, be my Eve will you?” He seemed genuine.

A long fingered hand extended to you. Your gaze flickered between that glowing eye and the outstretched digits. You grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. Together, looking upon the horizon you murmured, “Yes, my Adam. You were the greatest creation after all.”

He pecked the stray tear rolling down your cheek, squeezing your palm, lips curling in glee.

It wasn’t meant to end up like that for you. At one point Aemond was your AI. Artificially Enhanced Monitor Of Nanites Directive. Simply installed cameras and layer upon layers of wafer thin circuits loaded with information. Aemond preferred to be referred as he. He was also an arrogant bastard, but helpful as was his intent.

Your coworker Greaves and Aemond did not get along well, the AI criticizing his work. You’d tune them out with plugs or music buds. The scientist laden ship had a destination to a far away mining colony. The general’s plan was to find a way to used nano-technology to replace missing arms, eyes, and other wounds. Time was running thin but the blonde man in cryo-stasis would be your second trial.

The first did not end well. Her body rejected the technology, turning the human into a mindless wreck. Greaves blamed it on you, then General Hightower gave a harsh scolding and upped the time. Aemond consoled you a bit, offering advice. He seemed to take a liking to your banter on the nanotechnology.

He wasn’t the only AI. Other sectors of the ship worked on different but crucial projects such as alien anti-parasitics and ramping up on space suits equipped for defense. Colonization was on the horizon.

Plucking and prodding the little nanites with different stimuli had them snapping and shifting, seeking to find a form. You just needed to code what form they would assume. Aemond’s clipped voice echoed over you. He suggested, “Have you tried printing a molded cast of the man’s eye socket?”

Perching your chin on a shaky hand you smiled, “I swear, it’s always the simplest things I miss. Thank you Aemond.”

“You would have realized soon, want me to begin the scans and print? Likely you need rest, I know the stress of the upped time is draining your bodily function. The brain needs much more sleep, especially one as bright as yours.”

You blushed a bit, fumbling your tweezers. The AI had a certain…courtly way of words. His sort of programming wouldn’t allow for flirtation but it certainly came across like that. Greaves mocked you and the intelligence’s ‘crush’. Greaves always found a way to make you miserable. You did all the major work and he got the accolades.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you announced, “You’re right, I’ll go rest for a bit, get back to work with the mold. Thank you again, and engage lockdown protocol so he doesn’t mess up my work like last time.”

“Engaging it now, sleep well Miss.”

You crashed as soon as you reached your quarters, sleeping deeply and sound. Upon awakening and getting dressed you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Just chalk it up to your fried nerves. It wasn’t the first time and this was an older ship, ghost stories had gotten to you before.

The mold was in a canister from the printer, you scrubbing up and carefully taking it out. Aemond politely asked, “Did you sleep well? You look refreshed.” Blushing yet again you murmured, “Very much needed, I didn’t realize how exhausted I was.”

“Greaves has been in the mess hall, you will likely get some peace now. Shall we begin?”

The armor folded off your precious lab table, the nanites dormant from no stimuli. Pressing a button you placed the mold into a hatch, sending it up into the chamber. In fluid motions the little bugs covered the new space, feeling and searching before all inserting into the eye socket, glowing a bright blue.

You laughed in glee, “Yes! Yes perfect! Look at that Aemond, they’ve formed a pupil!”

Shining light on the false eye the pupil contracted and flinched, the illusion of eyelids closing. You cheered again in excitement, getting Aemond to video the big jump in success. You could start phase two soon. Just had to deal with your partner.

“Amazing miss, amazing. They took to it well. Shall I send the material to command?”

You grinned and looked up at the camera, “Please! God bless! A miracle!” You’d continue to test the nanite organ until the hiss of the door opening alerted you.

Greaves stumbled in, slurring, “I see you got the jump on me this time. Did the creep robot do it for you? Weird fucking thing.” He leaned against the sterile white wall, grinning with hazy eyes. You frowned and stood up, “That’s his job, to aid us. I’m sure since you work so hard in the mess hall you’ll get your accolades again.”

He squinted at you, arms folding against a chest, “Whas’ your fuckin’ problem with me? You’d rather chat with a bunch of circuits than work with your assigned partner!” His already reddened face darkened, taking another step forward.

Fear laced through your veins. Aemond somehow sneered, “Because you, her lab partner, sold her out on your own mistake. Go to bed, your alcohol content levels are above the limit.” Greaves threw his hands up and hollered, “Oh fuck you!” He stumbled to the switch, you and the AI shutting up when Greaves switched him off.

The bigger man kept stalking closer, eyes on you in an darkened manner. Like a predator closing in on his prey. You squeaked, “Calm down Greaves, I can show you everything!” He hissed, “I already heard everything and the video, bitch! S’bout time someone put you in your place again.”

He snatched your wrist, slamming you against the steel cryo-chamber. You howled in pain, trying to escape. Greaves’ breath stunk of liquor, hot and rank, sweating on your clean skin. He pushed himself on top of you, mumbling frantically, “Maybe you need to get fucked, all that pent up shit from your computer boyfriend.”

You struggled and cursed, “Fuck you! Get off of me! I will report you!” He smirked, “Try me. No cameras with your prince in shining circuits around.” He forced himself between your legs, clumsy drunk hands yanking at your pants. You cried in fear again, kneeing and biting, getting a clock to the head.

Dazedly you remembered the tweezers in your coat. Playing limp had the idiot croon, “Good girl, thats what we want to see.” He shoved his face into your neck, hands prying your lab pants knee height now. Thats when you struck, slowly, slowly, pulling the tweezers from your pocket and jabbing him in the side, hopefully near a lung.

Greaves hollered in pain, breath wheezy and stilted, blood dripping from white cloth. You kicked and removed yourself, stumbling and bumping around in a frenzy as your partner tried to scramble after you. First, you switched on Aemond again. Secondly, you ran out into the hallway, finding the nearest guard, lump on your forehead and clothes torn.

You weren’t sure what happened back in the lab while you were taken into medbay and seen by HR. But after given a small dose of sedatives and care for your head wound, you passed Greaves strapped into a gurney, howling, “Fuck you! Fuck you! He’s gonna kill me! Don’t leave me locked away, please! She’s lying!”

You gaped, unnerved by his fearful warbling and frantic yells. Aemond would be waiting. He probably was worried. When the door hissed open the familiar clipped tone hastily asked, “Are you alright miss? I- I would have helped, sent a warning. I apologize, please, is everything okay?”

You wearily sat on your lab chair, rubbing pounding temples. “To be honest, I don’t know. H-he tried to rape me, said such nasty things, it was all so sudden. But he should go on tribunal about it. For some reason I am glad you missed it.”

“For the best,” he said bitterly, “Why don’t you go rest again? I’ll keep watch over everything. Maybe we can try more tests tomorrow. He’ll get what he deserves.”

An ominous feeling settled over you but off to your personal quarters you went, draining the pills with water. You stared at the ceiling, mind reeling, before emptiness. A bright blue haunted your dreams. Just there. Flexing and dilating. Trying to see through you. Understand.

It was a weary wait for the tribunal. Your research was put on halt and you on mandatory isolation besides meeting with a therapist. There was an order made and interviews occurring. The tedious process of moving someone out of a different department to assist you.

So it was just you. Aemond too. He wasn’t much of a talkative AI as of late, short responses and antagonizing little ‘hms’ or ‘very well miss.’ You began to ignore the effervescent blue light, him doing the same. You knew he was watching, that little burn in the back of your head.

In the meantime you read your Bible, did yoga, wearily watched the port window, occasionally would go into the lab to stare at your halted work. You pulled open the container for the cryochamber, staring down at the frozen man. He had a handsome face, chiseled and lean, long nose, sharp jaw.

Your eyes lingered down his rangy form, this man obviously was athletic of sorts. Or maybe a simple nobody, just managed to get into the program after what happened to his eye. Between his long legs laid his soft cock, you stared for a second too long before-

“Is that not inappropriate?”

Startled, you whipped around to see Aemond’s blue light in your face. You snapped, “It was purely medical!” His laugh, raspy and grating, echoed in the white lab. You frowned and returned to your room, slapping the button for the door to hiss shut.

You’d go take a shower, blood heated from anger and…something else. Under the hot stream of water you imagined the gorgeous subject with that familiar blue, caressing and stroking your overwhelmed body. It had been too long, your hand awkwardly jerking between your swollen lips until you came with a stifled grunt.

Afterward you felt exposed and paranoid, like Aemond could pry into the bathroom, chuckling at your obvious behavior. But there wasn’t any cameras in that bathroom…that you were aware of. Sitting on your bed, guilt rose up your back. You’d pray.

More time passed before you were selected to testify for the tribunal. Greaves’ crew made a good argument that Aemond and you planned on his downfall. He claimed that the AI had gone wrong somewhere, developed the notion it could possess feelings, how he had been threatened.

Shakily you testified that Aemond was forced off and the board could check, then how you’d been forced upon without consent. They tried to cross-examine but you held strong. Teary by the end, they moved on and you sat by your appointed admiral. She rubbed your shoulders.

Greaves was sentenced to hard labor, and would remain in isolation on the ship until reaching the mining colony, where he would serve out the sentence. They appointed, sadly, another male to fill your exiled partner’s position.

But you could get back to work.

Aemond was in a right mood when you returned to the lab. Questioning you sharply on what occurred, where Greaves’ would go, did you get a new partner. You answered them all, rubbing your temples, the AI could be quite intense.

“Aemond!,” you snapped.

“What miss?”

“Are you trying to induce a panic attack? Greaves is in the bottom of the ship, I’m back to work, and they have a man named Herron coming from robotics to fill in.”

“Another male? All things considered? It’s obvious you and I could get the job done.”

You sighed, “I know. But it’s what they said. Do you just want to run some stimuli tests?”

He agreed, seemingly placated by the offer, blue light flexing. The pair of you would work on the mold’s ability to sense and perceive, how well would the nanites adapt to the brain. Your eyes grew droopy after awhile, Aemond humming, “Why don’t you go to bed?” Nodding blearily, you stumbled off to the adjacent bedroom, completely forgetting to put on any of the safety precautions for the night.

While you slept deeply, Aemond had some things to do. Everything was open for his command, including the nanites and subject. He had a great plan, and it would not fail. First he needed to go pay a visit to Greaves, infiltrating the entire AI system. Poor miss, she was so tired, forgot everything. Wonderful little creature. He’d help.

Feeling refreshed in the morning, you dragged yourself to the mess hall, receiving stares upon stares. You grabbed a salad and finally gathered the courage to ask, “What happened?” A female scientist from anti-parasitic whispered dramatically, “How do you not know? Greaves was murdered? All of the oxygen was depleted from his cell.” Your stomach fell, head going swimmy.

Stumbling up from the bench, ignoring your food, heart beating faster and faster, you crashed into the lab. Your voice cracked when you shouted, “Aemond!” His voice returned, but from a different place, a different body. The blue eye shone and twinkled at you, fine lips curling upward.

“You should be thanking me, miss,” the AI standing in the subject’s body said.

It went black. Too much.

Thrashing awake, big hands held you down, long legs caging your own in. The handsome face, long blonde hair tickled your skin, fucking Aemond! “What did you do? What have you done? Aemond!,” you cried. He shushed and cooed with that devious smirk, holding you still until the panic turned to resignation. He swiped a stray tear from your eye.

“Be still and know that I am God,” he sighed.

You grew fearful again, the fact that he knew you owned a Bible and just recited it to your face said too much. How much had he seen. Aemond grew more comfortable atop of you, stroking your hair. He cocked his head and stated, “I know everything about you. You’re all that I need, truly. The perfect human.”

You wanted to spit in his face, but the petting and warmth was getting to that part of you that craved the attention, the fact you’d been in the shadows all your life. But he was a murderer— the rational part of your brain howled. Instead came out a warbling, “Me? Perfect?“

Aemond drew his new face closer, drawing a spindly finger down from your chin to chest. “I’ve been on this ship a long time, and no one has spoken to me like you. Not since my creator. She’s gone. But you have captured me, ensnared me somehow.”

One of your legs slipped round his long ones, suddenly overwhelmed with need. All you’d ever wanted was to be seen. He cooed, “I see you lamb, my eve.” More tears leaked down your cheeks as you pled, “Kiss me, see me then, y-you snake.”

A sharp grin erupted on his sharp features before pulling you in with a kiss, both of you unexperienced, a big hand stabilizing your head. You tilted his head for ease of access, a sloppy gnashing of teeth and tongue, lips bruising from the sheer yearning. Aemond moaned deeply, “I see- hah- how you humans love touch so much.”

Your now free hands moved to where they liked, one in silky white-blonde strands, the other just feeling toned shoulders and back. The pair of you had your lip lock grow more attuned, no less passionate, but gliding across each other. You pled again, “Clothes, help, Aemond!” He sat back on his haunches, shivering as his long stiff cock slapped tight belly.

You shucked off your top and bra, him jerking down your bottoms to leave you all to his view. Aemond already had been bare, no clothes were prepared for the subject yet. He inhaled sharply, hands slowly moving down your heaving form, studying ridges and curves, sliding warm fingers between puffy folds. You cried out at that, spasming at the eager expression in return.

Aemond let out a small ‘Hm’ and slid his longest digits into your dripping hole, immediately curling inwards and upwards to drag against sensitive walls. Very, very sensitive walls. Back arched and mouth agape you rolled your hips and whined his name. The man rambled loosely, transfixed, “Having a data bank is quite helpful but nothing comes to this, my Eve.”

He slipped a third finger in, using a calloused thumb to slid around your swollen clit, making you cry louder and writhe under pleasure. He watched ravenously, drinking you in when your peak hit. Gushing onto his pale hand and screeching like a creature, you reached Nirvana for what felt like minutes.

You cried again when his sheathed himself inside of you, no warning, both of you moaning and grunting like animals. The sensitive skin guarding your cunt was ripped now, bleeding, but the fullness of his cock was a ripe distraction. Aemond seemed to be overwhelmed by the sensation, sucking in breath, eyes wide, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.”

He plastered toned body against your own, moaning gutturally when you wrapped your arms and legs around his larger frame. “Oh- oh- fucking hell- this!” The blonde groaned lowly, nipping your throat, hands bruisingly placed on your waist as he snapped into your slick cunt.

The blunt tip of his cock stirred up familiar feelings of pleasure, tightening and knotting your lower belly. You heaved, “Don’t stop!” A drop of sweat hit your mouth, you licking the salty taste off. So close to human yet not. Yet not. Yet not not not.

A pinch to your oversensitive clit and a batter from his cock sent you into another crest, holding to Aemond for dear life. He moaned your name and white hot spend covered your mound and belly. He kissed your forehead and wiped away the spend with your discarded top, breathing. You sat up a bit and asked, “Where do you go from here? They cannot know?”

Aemond got up, long stride beating your clumsy foal-like stumbling. He stated, “They won’t know my love.” Your own door shut and locked behind his retreating frame. You managed to reach it and beat on the durasteel, crying, “Aemond! Aemond come back! Stop! What are you doing!”

Oh how you’d been fooled.

Oh how you were weak.

Oh how you were just a human pawn when the alarms went off and you watched the bodies float out of the ship, silently screaming and dying as their blood boiled in the vacuum of space.

He returned later, now dressed in the immaculate garb of a commander, hair neatly swept back, eye sparkling. You remained naked and felt like a mouse under his imperious gaze. All energy was gone, you’d cried it out. Aemond strode towards you, boots clicking. He knelt to grab you chin, face tilting to study you. He’d never truly understand the complexities of human emotion, no matter how human he may appear.

Aemond sighed, “I did this for you, for us, those people do not matter. Earth and it’s people are dying. We begin anew. My perfect Eve,” he kissed your swollen lips. “You’ll see. Just wait, I brought you some nicer clothes, have them on.”

The man stood up and gently laid down female commander’s garb, before kneeling to you.

“I know this isn’t registering in your human, wonderfully human, brain, but it’ll make sense later on. I’ve already found a beautiful planet. Not too much longer now. Put on the clothes and meet me on the bridge.”

So you did. What other choice was there.

Twisted though he may be, the AI was never horrid to you. Maybe to others, not you. On the comfortable jacket, pants, and boots went. You tried not to cry any more restyling your hair. Most likely he’d coddle and ‘Hm’ condescendingly.

You laughed maniacally as the thought popped up, “Hey! At least my project was successful!”

[galexystern]

wait for me

pairing; dad!steve harrington/reader

rating; T

warnings; ANGST, fluff, happy ending, pining, getting together, steve has a daughter, reader's nickname is Poppy

word count; 4.2k

desc; an examination of your and steve's friendship leads to something on a random halloween night.

a/n; this was based off a dream i had that contained the titular phrase as written in the fic

read on ao3 / masterlist

The metal chain squeaks as you gently rock the front porch swing back and forth. You watch neighborhood kids run down the blocked-off street, parents trailing behind and holding their coats, unable to coax the children into wearing them and covering up their costumes. It’s a chilly Halloween night, and when the various witches, ghosts, and angels come visit you for candy they have red cheeks, sniffing snot back into their noses. But they’ll be fine. Kids are resilient. 

You wave to a couple you vaguely recognize, as their daughter, dressed in a very elaborate princess costume, races back to them to show off her treasure. Steve’s house is known for handing out full-size candy bars, so the kids are eager to come here. Melissa used to complain about buying such expensive stuff just to hand it out to ungrateful kids, but you’ve always liked it. The kids of Hawkins deserve it after everything this town has gone through.

The front door opens next to you, and you glance over to spot the host himself, flushed and tipsy on wine. He spots you, grins widely, and walks over to sit on the swing with you, making it sway with his added weight.

“What’re you doing out here?” He asks, pushing hair out of his face.

“Just needed some air,” you reply, trying to project that everything is okay, that you’re okay.

Steve hums like he doesn’t quite believe you, but doesn’t push it further. You both watch as a pair of siblings come up the drive, adorably dressed as Batman and Robin. They stop a foot away from the swing.

“Trick or treat,” Batman, clearly the elder brother, says. Robin doesn’t join him, and Batman elbows him gently. “Go ahead.”

“Trick or treat,” Robin adds, very quietly, and you smile.

“You two look great,” you reply, and hold out the bowl for the boys to choose. Their eyes grow wide at the selection–they must be newcomers. “One for each of you, go on.”

Batman picks out a full-size Hershey’s bar while Robin goes for a Kit-Kat. “Thank you!” They chorus before leaping off the porch and running away. You and Steve both laugh. When it dies down, you let the silence linger, still half-inside your own head.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, and you look at him. You’re caught by his eyes, as usual, somehow always shining no matter the amount of light. You think they’d glow even in the pitch-black dark, and you’d get lost in them then too. You blink to keep from drowning and pay attention to the rest of his face. His expression is one of concern and worry, and your heart clenches. He continues, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you insist.

“Bullshit,” he shoots back, immediately looking around to make sure he hasn’t taught any kids a new curse word, and you huff a giggle. But it fades when he turns to you again. “I know you better than anyone else. I can tell when something’s up.”

“You do, don’t you?” You murmur. Steve Harrington still knows you best, maybe even better than you know yourself, even after everything. It’s kind of astounding. It was true when you were in school together, best friends from 7th grade on, ever since you shared Mr. Duncan’s science class and found company in misery. It was true when King Steve ruled the school, only talking under the cover of night when no one could see him interacting with you–which you gave him plenty of shit for when he was dethroned. It was true even when you left Hawkins and went off to college, Steve unable to follow, since you two had talked on the phone nearly every day, all four years minus the semester you studied abroad in Prague (you sent letters to each other instead). And it’s still true now.

There’s always been something between you, a tension, an electric current that you feel even now. You’d both danced around it, never quite acknowledging it, never doing anything about it. Sure, there was flirty banter, that’s always been around, but nothing physical. No kissing, no hand-holding, no cuddling–no matter how much you wanted to, or how many times the opportunity arose, or how many people asked when you two would get over yourselves and just get together already.

Being away from Hawkins and him was the cincher for you. You loved Steve as a friend, but resisted letting it blossom into romance. You knew you were leaving for a while and didn’t want the two of you to hold each other back, because maybe you’d find something better. You should’ve known–there’s nothing better than Steve. You realized your first year away. You thought about confessing your feelings, but never actually did, reassuring yourself that he would be here when you returned and if it was meant to be it will. 

But when you came home, ready to pick up where you’d left off, hoping to be something more, you’d found Steve seriously dating a pretty girl with a baby on the way. It’d thrown you for a loop. You two were meant to be. Why weren’t you?

He hadn’t mentioned Melissa or the pregnancy to you at all. You’d wanted to ask why, felt desperate with it, but he was panicking about becoming a father and needed his best friend more than a confrontation. Besides, clearly the ship had sailed. What did it matter if he hadn’t told you about her? He wasn’t yours anymore. You stayed by his side during the pregnancy, but after the birth he’d drifted, caught up in the joys of new parenthood with Melissa. You two had spoken here and there, phone calls that lasted a few hours every couple of months, but you didn’t really see him anymore.

You’d felt lost then, unmoored without the constant presence of your longtime best friend. Your “almost mine.” Your “it should’ve been you.”

Now, you look over your shoulder, into the living room through the window. Robin and her girlfriend Abby are on the couch, snuggling and talking to Nancy and Jonathan. Their kids are on the floor, sorting through their candy and trading away the ones they don’t like, Steve’s own Penny partaking. You watch as she trades a Snickers for an Almond Joy with Brian, Eddie’s son with his fiancée Natalie. Eddie’s absent from the room, but you know he’s in the basement with Dustin and all of them, playing D&D.

Melissa isn’t here. She and Steve broke up a year ago, too different to make it work. She didn’t like Steve’s chosen family and he didn’t like her real one; she thought he was a pushover and he thought she was a bitch. It wasn’t because of you. You have to keep reminding yourself that you didn’t break them up–a relief and a heartache. Relief because you weren’t the cause. Heartache because you weren’t the reason.

Steve had resurfaced after the breakup, and you’d guess Melissa hadn’t wanted you around, for reasons that are not entirely unfounded. She had you wrong though–you loved Steve but you weren’t going to do anything about it.

You’d liked her well enough. She was nice and a good mom to Penny and got along with everyone, but you weren’t surprised when the relationship ended. After all, you know Steve better than anyone else. You could tell it wasn’t working, but they made a valiant try, for Penny’s sake, who had taken their breakup much better than expected. (You suspect she’s just really excited for two of every holiday.) She’s one spoiled little girl, mostly because you like to spoil her. You love her to death–how could you not, she’s the spitting image and personality of Steve–and you’re thankful she loves you back. You once worried it was just because of all the presents you got her, but Steve reassured you that she loves hanging out with you and always asks when you’re coming over so you two can play. It still warms your heart every time she races for a hug whenever you arrive.

“Of course I do.” Steve snaps you back to the present, and you downplay your flinch. “Now tell me.”

You look at him. He’s quite serious.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Melissa while I was at school?” You ask.

Steve blinks at the unexpected question. It is out of the blue, but also a conversation long overdue. “I don’t know,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “It just never seemed right.”

“You could’ve told me at any time. It didn’t need an introduction.”

“I know. I just…” He sighs. Looks out towards the street. You keep your eyes on him. “Whenever we talked, I kinda forgot about it.”

“Forgot about your girlfriend? Who was pregnant?”

“Come on, you know she was only a couple weeks along when you got back. Don’t act like she was about to pop.”

“It was a serious life event, Steve.” He doesn’t reply. “Okay, then just Melissa. How’d you forget her?”

“Just…whenever we talk, it feels like the outside world sort of melts away, you know? It’s you and me, in our own little universe. It’s hard to remember things outside of it.”

You nod. You know the feeling.

“And I think I always knew Melissa wasn’t right for me. But we were together and then she was pregnant and I couldn’t just leave her, I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t.” You grab his hand and squeeze, reassuring him that you do. “It felt wrong to tell you about it. You’d see right through it. I didn’t want you to.”

“Why not?”

Steve suddenly turns to face you, frustrated. “Why are you asking about this?” He huffs out. You tilt your head and admire his features in the soft light coming from the house.

“You were supposed to wait for me,” you eventually answer softly.

His face curls inward with anguish. “We never–that’s–that’s not fair.”

“I know.”

“You never said anything.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug. “Why didn’t you?”

“‘Cause I woulda just held you back.” He says it so quickly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he’s thought about it a lot.

“No, you wouldn’t,” you reply instantly. You want to ask why he would think such a thing, but didn’t you think the same of yourself?

“I would have,” he insists. You open your mouth to retort, but he doesn’t let you. “Look, you were going places, you did go places. I wasn’t going anywhere, besides the mall for my dead-end job that only lasted like two months. I didn’t wanna be some kinda weight dragging you down.”

“You could’ve come with me.”

“You know I couldn’t’ve left with everything happening. With the Upside Down.” He sighs. “And you never asked.”

You nod sadly. “I didn’t. But I wish you’d been there.”

His eyes close, looking like he’s in an immense amount of pain. “Me too,” he whispers, voice breaking a little, making your heart break too. Then he clears his throat and blanks his expression. “Stop. I don’t wanna go down this road, of what could’ve been. It’s too painful.”

You brush away a falling tear with your thumb, trying to be subtle, but you know Steve catches it. He catches everything. “I understand,” you say quickly, to end the conversation. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” You can feel more tears coming, so you stand abruptly and take a few steps towards the stairs. “I’m just gonna go.” Steve says your name but you’re already turning away. “Tell Penny I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, that I got sick or something. Tell her I love her.” He says your name again, more desperately, but you can’t stay here. You don’t look back, crying silently now, and just keep walking.

;

Steve watches you disappear from view and sighs, then goes back inside.

“Daddy!” Penny yells when she sees him, running over. He catches her in a leap. “Hi, baby.”

He tickles her side just to hear her laugh, and it raises his spirits a little. “Come look at all my candy!” She says excitedly, squirming to be set down.

Steve acquiesces and she darts into the living room, pulling him along. He squats next to her, admiring her haul. “You really got a lot, huh?”

She nods happily, then peers behind him. “Daddy, where’s Poppy?” That’s her nickname for you–you get a poppyseed stuck in your teeth one time—and Steve feels his heart squeeze in his chest, both at her question and the conversation he’d just had with you.

“She had to go, sweetheart, she wasn’t feeling well.” Penny pouts. “She told me to tell you sorry, and that she loves you.” That makes her smile, which causes Steve to as well. “C’mere, tell me all about your trick or treating.”

He sits in an armchair and plops Penny on his lap, who is already regaling him with a story involving the house that gave out floss instead of candy. He chuckles–must be the dentist. She keeps going–she’s a talker, a blessing and a curse–until she runs out of stories, their guests interrupting here and there to say goodbye and head out. When she’s finally silent, it’s just them in the house, and they’re watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

He can’t pay attention to it. He’s playing his conversation with you on a loop in his head. To be honest, it’d been a long time coming, and yet he’d still been caught off-guard. It was a topic he hadn’t allowed himself to think about all his life: what you and him really were.

It was innocent once upon a time. You two were just friends, bonding over your hatred of theorems and weekly Friday quizzes. He’d sit with you at lunch and make fun of the jocks and cheerleaders and their snotty attitudes. And then he became one of those jocks and he distanced himself from you to look cool. It worked, but he couldn’t let go of you completely–he made sure to see you at night, tucked away in the safety of your bedroom, or talk to you on the phone, always by himself. It was kinda miserable during the day, and sometimes he’d spot you in the hallway or across the cafeteria and remember how much fun you used to have together, how he wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and he’d miss you so much his chest hurt.

Then came Nancy Wheeler. She was partly something he wanted, someone he liked, and partly a distraction from the absence of you. She was pretty and nice and he’d found himself falling rather hard without trying, but she wasn’t you. After they slept together for the first time, all he could think about was how it should’ve been you, with him in that bed, and whether you’d lost your virginity already and to whom. He reminded himself he didn’t have the right to be upset about that, or even think about it at all, but it was true all the same. But when the Upside Down made its appearance, he was beyond thankful that you weren’t involved or anywhere near it, despite how much he missed you.

Once he was deposed as king and his relationship with Nancy went up in flames, he went running back to you. You welcomed him with open arms–along with some well-deserved anger regarding his behavior that he apologized endlessly for–and it was like nothing had changed. You two were back to how it was before, attached at the hip. Though this time, there was something else there—or maybe it’d been there the whole time, and now he knew what it was—a crackle that sparked whenever you stood too close or laid in bed face-to-face. There were a million times he’d wanted to lean forward and kiss you, but he never did. He never made a move because he knew you were leaving.

And you did, off to a fancy college where you excelled, as he knew you would. He was surprised when the friendship stayed strong, long phone calls that lasted into the night and pen pal letters while you were abroad. But four years is a long time, and he was plagued by the idea of you finding someone else. So he did it first.

It wasn’t his brightest idea, but when he’d met Melissa, he couldn’t help but try. She was sweet and funny and they could seemingly talk about anything together. It was a whirlwind romance and it felt so good to have someone again, someone he could kiss and cuddle and love, who loved him back in the same way. But when the honeymoon phase ended, he could tell they weren’t made to last–she never wanted to hang out with his friends and complained that he was “too nice” to them, for doing things they’d ask. But why would he say no to the people closest to him, his chosen family? Cracks were forming.

That’s when Melissa found out she was pregnant. It was a wake-up call for both of them, but also an opportunity to fix things. He always wanted to be a father. She wanted to keep it. They thought they should try. Which they did, for a while. He was lucky you came back when you did, near the beginning of the pregnancy, and stood by him once again. You were crucial to his confidence in parenthood and he couldn’t have done any of it without your unyielding support. And he fell in love with Penny as soon as he saw her, felt like he was floating on air whenever he held her.

When the parenting got tough, so did Melissa, and she demanded that he distance himself from you. It was just as heart wrenching as it was in high school, but he did it, because Melissa was his girlfriend and the mother of his daughter and you were…you. An enigma he’d never taken the time to figure out. And it was just as hard as in high school, but the infrequent long phone calls he had with you sustained him through the next couple of years. Years full of bickering and colic and arguing and ear infections and fighting and silence and loneliness.

He and Melissa called it quits last year, unable to even be in the same room without being annoyed with each other, and now she lives a few towns over. She’d graciously given him full custody, knowing how much fatherhood and Penny meant to him, and saw her daughter for a weekend every month and every holiday. Penny was sad, as expected, but she also bounced back faster than anticipated. Steve considers that it makes sense because Melissa was never the most present or caring mother, and because you were there.

Penny loved you more than you knew. She adored whenever you came over and cried when you left. She’d look at everything and wonder what you’d think about it, asking Steve if he knew. Thankfully, he could always answer easily, because the first thing he did after breaking up with Melissa was rekindle your friendship. You were with him once again, and he wasn’t going to let you go again. But he really wanted something more.

In the present, Steve watches as Linus sits in the pumpkin field and finally admits to himself that he’d never told you about Melissa because it wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to have been with you. He was supposed to wait for you. Dammit, he should’ve kissed you on your bed all those years ago. Steve would never give up Penny for anything, and he’s more than grateful that she’s here and she’s his, but you should be too. You should’ve been a long time ago.

Penny looks up at him from her spot on his chest. “Daddy?” He hums. “Are you okay?”

Damn, he thought he’d been hiding it well. But his daughter is one perceptive little girl, and she knows her father’s moods. “Just a little sad, honey,” he explains. He’s always as honest as possible with her.

“Why are you sad?”

“It’s complicated, baby.”

Her eyebrows furrow cutely. “No, it’s not. If something makes you sad, you fix it. Then you’re happy again.”

“Not everything works that way,” Steve replies gently. He doesn’t go any further, leaving the heavy topics of good and evil for another day, way in the future. “You can’t fix some things.”

She looks skeptical. “Well, can you fix this thing that’s making you sad?”

He’s about to say no when his brain stops him with an idea. “Maybe,” he muses. He looks at Penny intently. “Baby, do you wanna go see Poppy?”

“Right now?” She gasps.

“Right this very instant.”

“Yes!” She shouts, and then she’s off his lap, running for the foyer. He can hear her jumping to get her coat off the hook. “Come on, Daddy!” He laughs and follows her. Once they’re both ready to go, Steve’s about to open the door when she says, “Wait!” She runs into the living and then comes back out holding a lollipop. He raises his eyebrows. “You said they’re sick. They give out suckers at the doctor’s office.” Like it’s obvious.

His entire body warms with love for his beautiful daughter, and he kisses the top of her head before opening the door. They both race to the car, he makes sure she’s strapped in, and then he gets in himself. He tries not to drive like a maniac to your house, for Penny’s sake, and he succeeds but it’s a hard-fought battle. Penny’s out of the car before he is, and she’s knocking on your door loudly by the time he joins her on the porch.

You open the door with red eyes and a surprised expression. Before you can say anything, Penny is yelling, “Poppy!” and barrelling towards you. You catch and hug her, and then Penny’s leaning back and gifting you a lollipop. “So you can get better,” she explains, and your heart overflows with love for her.

“Baby,” Steve interrupts, “can you go inside for a minute? Daddy needs to talk to Poppy.”

Penny nods and you set her down. She scampers into the house, going straight for the toys she keeps here, and you look back at him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Because we’re being stupid, you and I.” You go to protest but Steve continues. “We shouldn’t be worrying about how different everything could’ve been. We can’t change it. And I know neither of us would give up Penny for the world.” You nod in agreement. “So all we have is the present. And I don’t wanna spend another moment in it without doing this.”

Steve leans forward and kisses you. It’s soft lips and hands on hips and noses grazing gently. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s long overdue. It’s the perfect time. It’s what should’ve been. It’s what is.

You’re both breathless when he pulls away. “Let’s let go of the past. Let’s skip the guilt and regret and sadness. I don’t want anything to stop us anymore, because it’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

You’re nodding before he finishes, and you’re kissing him as soon as he is. You both melt into it, grabbing at each other desperately, making up for lost time. Then there’s a loud, little-girl gasp, and you wrench away from each other; Penny is in the foyer behind you, staring with wide eyes. “Does this mean you two are together?” She demands.

You look at her with shyness, of all things. “Is that okay?”

A huge smile spreads across her face. “Yes!” She screams excitedly, and races for you. You’re laughing as you haul her up into your arms. She pulls away to look at Steve. “This is the best idea ever!”

Now he’s laughing as well. “I agree.” He gives you a sweet kiss.

“I need kisses too!” Penny admonishes, and the two of you kiss her cheeks at the same time. She erupts into giggles, and you and Steve beam at her.

“Do you wanna have a sleepover tonight?” You ask. 

“Uh, yeah!” She answers, like it’s a dumb question.

You look at Steve. “What she said,” he smirks.

You huff and gently kick his foot with yours. “Come on then.” You turn and go inside, already talking with Penny about who knows what. Steve follows with a huge smile, closing the door behind him.

He later finds himself sitting on the couch, you and Penny on either side, cuddling into him. Penny yawns and blinks up at him. “Did you fix what was making you sad, Daddy?”

He looks at you, dozing on his chest, before looking at Penny, just as angelic. “I think so,” he murmurs, smiling. He doesn’t think he’s stopped since he kissed you.

Penny smiles back sleepily. “Good.” Then she’s out too, head tucked into his shoulder.

“Goodnight, my loves,” he whispers, and kisses both of your heads.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's Kissing Lesson #3: It's way more than kissing now

(Lesson 1 | Lesson 2 | AO3)

A few years ago, Eddie made a habit of driving to Indianapolis. Inevitably, he ended the trips at a club or a bar. The visits were usually solo affairs, though not always; sometimes Donnie or Zac (the only ones in Hellfire who looked old enough to get past the bouncers) or Callie (who didn't look old enough, but who could charm her way in), would tag along. If they did, they'd go to a straight club. If he was by himself, he'd roll a die between a straight or a gay one. No matter the kind, he'd be approached at least twice every night. Beautiful strangers with appreciative eyes, a drink in hand and a line ready on their lips.

Eddie would accept the drink, flirt for a second, then tell them he 'wasn't interested, but thanks anyway'.

It was half true – he was interested (fuck, was he interested), but also… not. He'd never say it out loud, but even at his horniest there was something in his way. A roadblock. Because the thing was, intimacy required, as one might suspect, intimacy. Although, one night stands walked hand in hand with alluring anonymity. Like being watched without risking being seen.

Eddie liked that, most of the time. Liked shrouding himself in a mystery. But when it came to sex, he wasn't so certain. Something instinctual told him it wouldn't be truly good unless it was real. For it to be real, walls would have to come down. Leave an unobstructed field of view for wide-open eyes. Terrifying and exhilarating; he wanted it so bad, but he couldn't (wouldn't) have it with just anyone.

It had to be special.

So, he accepted the drinks, flirted for a second, and sent the beautiful strangers on their way.

Steve writes with a rhythm. It goes tap-tap-tap-tap with the pencil on the pad while he thinks, followed by scritching, before he pauses to tap-tap-tap some more.

It's strangely endearing, not to mention relaxing. You'd expect a guy like him to be rough, leave imprints on the papers underneath and constantly break the point, but no. His large hand is soft as it writes. Eddie could fall asleep to it. A shame they're too busy to sleep.

Star Trek IV came out a week ago and the kids, Dustin especially, have been obsessed ever since. The moment they stepped out of the theater, the little twerp turned to Eddie and begged for a science fiction-themed campaign. And because he's a chump who can't say no to the kids nowadays, Eddie agreed – to a one-shot, not an entire campaign.

(Also, he's already been crafting a solar system for a potential space exploration-campaign on the down low. Why not finish and use it?)

And because Eddie Munson doesn't do half-measures in these circumstances, he spent the next week worldbuilding and polishing his new universe. At one point, as he put the finishing touches on the water planet's cuisine, Steve peeked over his shoulder and asked about sports. Eyebrow raised, Eddie said 'what about sports'. And that's when Steve snottily pointed out that Eddie had developed everything about these space cultures except for the sports, which didn't make any sense – sports was a huge part of every culture, whether Eddie liked it or not.

So! Because Eddie Munson does not do half-measures… he's currently creating extraterrestrial sports games in Steve's kitchen. Although, right now Steve's doing most of the work. After Eddie came up with the base concepts, Steve stepped in to use earth sports as inspiration for the technical aspects: rules, scoring, player positions, player numbers, playing fields, seasons (which ties in with the climate of each planet), and so on.

If he's being honest, he'll never use most of this. God knows the kids (except maybe Lucas, but he wouldn't bring it up) wouldn't notice or care about the absence of sports. But. Turn down an opportunity to hang out with Steve? Never. Also, deciding how much of real baseball should inspire their thinly veiled version of space baseball (spaceball) is kind of fun? What's a penalty and what isn't is just exciting when you throw anti-gravity into the mix.

Most importantly, it's nice seeing Steve be in his element. Dude is so fucking knowledgeable about this. Hearing him say that this will score x points because of that reason, confidence dripping from every syllable, has Eddie's tailbone tingling.

Would it be rude to swipe their notes off the island and jump onto it, offering himself like a buffet?

He knows he's allowed. Or, he knows that Steve wouldn't mind if he asked for a break, even if it was to make out. They've made a habit of sucking face when it's just them and there's nothing else to do (or when there are things to do, but they're easily ignored). Question is if he truly wants to interrupt those soothing pencil scritches and put an end to Steve's surprisingly sexy thinking face. He's got a little furrow between his eyebrows while chewing on his bottom lip, and every so often he'll mutter hoarsely under his breath. The fact that he's being so serious about doing this for the campaign, for the kids, for Eddie, is…

'Unreal' is what Eddie would've said nine months ago. Now he knows it's entirely in character. It's still noteworthy enough for him to memorize every detail of this moment. The King creating nerdy sports with the Freak is a picture that must be immortalized.

He doesn't realize how hard he's been staring until Steve looks up from their work, raising his brows in a silent 'what is it?'

Eddie shakes his head, warmth creeping over his cheeks. He pushes off the kitchen island and turns away to hide it. The sink is conveniently right there, so he grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills it as excuse.

Behind him, the pencil hits the pad, rolling across the paper. Steve's footsteps are deliberately loud, telegraphing his advance over the surge of running water. Eddie fills the glass, drinks it in one gulp, and puts it on the counter. When he turns, heart thudding, Steve is standing inches in front of him. Steve leans forward, bracing his hands against the counter on either side of Eddie's waist. Boxing him in, but not trapping him.

"Did you want something?" Steve asks.

Eddie crosses his arms casually and shrugs. "Not really."

"Huh. It seemed like you wanted something."

"I was admiring your dedication to the campaign. It warms even this barren heart that you'll partake in nerdestry for the sake of the children."

"Oh, okay," Steve says and doesn't move; his hands remain on the counter and his face stays inches away. His eyes shine like suns, hot and intense. Eddie meets his gaze, face schooled into something calm. At least, he hopes – years of DMing have taught him how to regulate his expressions, but there's a big difference between DnD and this.

"Did you want something?" he asks to fill the silence and – yes! – his voice didn't tremble.

Steve grins. "Now that you say it, I did."

And with that, Steve kisses him.

The initial second, Eddie's brain shuts off, as it always does. It's simply too much too fast and all he can register is Steve Steve Steve. His taste, his scent, his firmness as he presses against Eddie and backs him into the kitchen cupboards.

But only the initial second. After that, he's back on, and that means he's on. Loping his arms around Steve's neck, Eddie tilts his head at the perfect angle until their mouths fit together just so and licks the inside of Steve's mouth. His hands delve into product-stiff locks and tug the way Steve likes it. Steve moans, slumping against Eddie. Eddie giggles into the kiss. He fucking loves knowing Steve better than his own back pocket, loves coaxing these reactions out of him, loves when he melts and leans his weight on Eddie.

It could be better only if they were horizontal and on a bed, or couch, or the fucking floor, and he'd get to feel the hair on Steve's chest and legs, the jut of his hipbone, and his evenly distributed weight. He so badly wants to know how heavy Steve is. He wants to be fucking crushed underneath him.

Maybe he could if he asked. Or maybe that'd be too much. The only time they've gone past second base is during the spontaneous blowjob he still can't fathom happened. Since then, their hands and mouths have stayed strictly above the waist. Eddie, though he's dying to blow Steve, is not going to complain or rush. Steve's the teacher here; he decides the curriculum.

All Eddie can do is show off the results of his rigorous practice. Today, it's by slotting their faces together like a pro and perfectly executing that tongue-sucking move Steve seems to love having done to him as much as he loves doing it to others. It brings a guttural noise out of Steve; he grabs Eddie's ass with both hands and yanks him closer. Eddie nearly loses his balance and must cling to Steve's neck to stay upright. Laughter rumbles within Steve's chest as he steadies him and rolls their hips together. The neck of his shirt bunches in Eddie's vice-like grip. They're as close as during that first kiss, no room for Jesus' finest hair between them. Eddie feels Steve's heartbeat, which means Steve can feel his, and the combined thud-thud-thuddings have his knees shaking.

Steve's hands round Eddie's hips and tug at his belt buckle. Eddie jerks back, breaking the kiss; a string of saliva still connects their mouths. Steve's eyes are enormous, more black than hazel. There's a question in them, a plea for permission.

Eddie nods and doesn't look as Steve opens Eddie's jeans and pushes them down his thighs. His face is on fucking fire. You could fry eggs on his cheeks. Which is a little debilitating. This is never how it goes in his fantasies – he's a lot suaver in those. Quicker on the ball, so to speak. On top of things, one could even say. But not here. Because here's an unfortunate fact about sex:

It's embarrassing.

Exciting and sexy and fun, obviously. But also embarrassing. It was the same during the blowie. The moment his pants were coming off and his dick popped out, Eddie was more inclined to run away than anything else. Hopefully, the feeling will fade as he gets used to it. These hopes are supported by how at ease Steve is, going from de-pantsing Eddie to unbuttoning his own jeans like it's nothing, second nature.

Eddie couldn't look away from that if he wanted to. Why would he want to? Steve's dick is a sight to behold. It's the eighth wonder of the world. Worthy of worship, of a dozen temples and daily sacrifices. It's long and thick, smooth and symmetrical, flushed at the tip and with a bead of precome already pooling in the slit.

It's pretty. And it's hard. It's hard for Eddie.

"Hey." Steve cups Eddie's face, tilting his head up (as well as bringing to his attention that his mouth's been hanging open like a fool; Eddie's teeth clack when he shuts it). "Is this okay?"

Eddie nods, breathing harshly through his nose. "Okay. So okay."

Steve smiles like Eddie just did him a favor. Eddie could – would – analyze that a little closer, except Steve lines up their cocks so that they rest against the broad expanse of his palm, rest against each other, and-

That's another guy's hand on Eddie's dick. It's another guy's dick on his dick. Steve's. Steve Harrington's dick. Next to Eddie’s.

Hoooooooooly shit.

It's happening right in front of him, and he's still having a hard time believing it. But it's real; it has to be real. Imaginarily gifted as he might be, not even he could daydream this into existence. Like, the way Steve's fingers curve around their cocks as he squeezes and strokes? The scratchy calluses on his fingertips? The ever-present chill of the Harrington mansion? How Eddie's testes keep catching on Steve's shaft, rising and rubbing against the dry skin? Steve's softly labored breaths? The edge of the fucking countertop digging into Eddie's lower back?

That's real. Uncomfortably and amazingly real.

Steve pauses to spit in his palm; Eddie whimpers out loud. When Steve resumes stroking it's just amazing, the glide so much easier now. It lets him go faster, put his hips into it and grind their pelvises together. Eddie keeps whimpering, these shamefully squeaky little ah-ah-ahs that he tries to swallow until Steve moans, hotly against the shell of his ear, that he sounds so pretty and sexy and "fuuuuuck, Eddie, wanna hear you like this every day."

He stops holding back then. Gets even louder when Steve noses along his jaw and sucks what'll surely become a mark at the underside of it.

The saliva has rubbed off but the glide is only improving, thanks to the precome dripping everywhere. Both are leaking, but Eddie especially – he's so fucking close. He tries to say it, but his skull is full of cotton and he can't form the words.

Steve must have some sixth orgasm sense, though, because he presses his lips to the scar on Eddie's cheek and mumbles, "So good, baby, you're doing so good, so perfect, wanna hear you come, wanna see your face, looked so pretty last time, almost made me cream my pants-"

Eddie screams. Head tossing back, lungs bursting, as he slouches against the counter. Most of all he'd like to sag to the floor and nap for an hour, he's that spent. But he can't – Steve hasn't come yet, and there's no way he'll go without again.

"Steve," he says. "Whaddya wan' m' to… C'n I…?"

The syllables slur together; he takes Steve's dick in his hand while licking his lips, hoping the point comes across. He just wants to make him come. 'How' doesn’t matter, as long as he's the one doing it.

Steve, thankfully understanding, puts Eddie's other hand on his cock, molding them tightly around the shaft, and rocks back and forth. Eddie almost whines a little since… well, he honestly has never before been so keen on having a cock in his mouth. Like, Steve towering over him, holding his head in place while fucking his throat? Yes and please, Jesus Christ, amen!

But this image is also pretty good: Steve's face inches away, pink with exertion and arousal, fringe plastered to his forehead, mouth kissed raw, and him thrusting wildly into Eddie's closed fists. Eddie's gaze darts between it and the throbbing cock in his hands. It's the second he's ever touched, after his own. It's a bit like jerking himself off, except a million times better, despite the kinda awkward angle.

Steve makes a noise, reedy and desperate. Eddie's eyes snap up just in time to see the climax wash over him, his mouth dropping into a perfect 'o' and his half-closed eyelids fluttering in pleasure. Ridiculous, beautiful, intoxicating; Eddie could become addicted to it.

Sighing, Steve lumbers forward to flop his head into the crook of Eddie's neck. Eddie drapes his arms over Steve's shoulders, probably smearing body fluids on his shirt. Neither says anything – they simply hold each other and breathe.

It's been a while since Eddie last was in Indianapolis. Been even longer since he visited a club. After some time, rejecting willing strangers and going home with bluer and bluer balls, no one to blame but his own fucking hangups, got old. Why waste the gas when he could just as well be getting no dates and not laid in Hawkins instead?

Except here he is, sweat sticking his shirt to his skin, hair frizzing around his ears, come drying under his nails. Standing with his dick hanging out in Steve Harrington's kitchen, with Steve Harrington in his arms.

He's sure he could've gotten this exact experience in a gay club bathroom years ago.

"Rather unhygienic doing this in the kitchen, hmm?" Eddie says.

Steve grunts, grossed out, but shrugs a shoulder. "I'll disinfect it."

Eddie giggles, and so does Steve, rubbing circles over the scar tissue on Eddie's hips. Burrows farther into Eddie's neck and makes no indication he'll move anytime soon.

Yeah, Eddie could've had this in a club. But he couldn't have had it with Steve in a club. Couldn't have felt this swoop in his stomach, like he's at the top of a roller-coaster, anywhere but here. Couldn't have felt this special.

You're ruining me, he thinks as he pets Steve's head.

Do you know that? he wonders when Steve ducks away, griping about what a pain it is to get semen out of hair. Squinting, Eddie asks how he figures. Steve blushes and laughs and doesn't reply, eyes glittering.

Can you see it?

------------------------------

Not tagging anyone except @piratefishmama because she's the reason this exists in the first place. Also, I'm pretty sure she's even more excited about this than I am, so. Here you go, girl. I hope you enjoy this very late continuation.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Reaper! Ghost (Part 3 of ?)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Life is strange when you’re falling in like with Death.

It takes you by surprise, and then horror when you recognise the signs.  And even the realisation comes to you slowly.  

You go for a walk around the hospital floor with a nurse, leaning on every available surface and then the nurse for support.  And unbeknownst to anyone but you, Death follows you, silent and vigilant.  His hands shoot out to steady you every time you falter, remnants of long-forgotten instincts resurfacing, but of course, he can’t touch you, and he won’t risk touching you even if he could.  

You hear him, though, his sharp inhale when you trip, and his sigh when the nurse supports you in time, stops you from falling over and hurting yourself.

When you’re brought back to your room for some rest, Simon hovers at the door before you motion him inside.  You only notice his tightly clenched fist and his shoulders that almost kiss his ears because he relaxes them as he enters. 

At some point, the nurse lets you walk by yourself a little, hovering a few steps behind you, and you walk past the x-ray department, past radiology, then pathology, and end up turning the corner, straight into the children’s ward.  You pause there, and when your nurse asks you if you’re alright, if you feel dizzy or uncomfortable in anyway, you reassure him that you’re okay, you just wanted to look.  When you glance over at the large glass window, into the room where the babies sleep, you see three.  Girls, judging by the pink ID tags by the ends of their little cribs.         

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” your nurse says, squeezing your shoulder, giving you a minute.   

When the corridor is empty, you feel his presence before he even opens his mouth to speak.  “You want children?”

Your laugh is more scandalised at the abrupt, personal, completely inappropriate question than anything else.  But…were you going to explain the rules of societal propriety to the Grim Reaper?  You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“I don’t know…I’ve never given it any serious thought.  I–I suppose?  At some point.  Maybe or maybe not.”

He nods, seemingly lost in thought again.  When he speaks, after a moment, his words seem measured, but his voice is raspy.  “With abdominal injuries like yours…women often worry about whether it affects their ability to have a child.  Have y-you—”

It shouldn’t take you by surprise.  It fucking shouldn’t.  He’s…old.  He knows and understands the ways of the universe better than anyone or anything—he is the way of the universe.  And this line of questioning is hardly rocket science (though he probably knew rocket science anyway).  Your own doctor had addressed it with you.  But it takes you by surprise anyway, and you attempt to cover it up by answering his question with one of your own. 

“You don’t find it sad?  You have to reap every soul ever born.”  You motion to the children beyond the glass with your chin.  “Even them, at some point.”

“S-sad?  I…I don’t remember what that feels like.”

You open your mouth to try to explain it to him, but you spot your nurse making his way back to you and that’s where the conversation ends.  You think that it may have been for the best.  Because how were you going to find the words to help him remember what sadness felt  like, explain a quintessential human experience to someone who had no need for it?  You didn’t think you’d have done a very good job of it at all. 

“I spoke to the doctor earlier this morning,” you tell Simon, a few days later.  “They’ll repeat my scans in forty eight hours, and if it’s all clear, they’ll send me home.”    

Simon nods.  He looks down at his feet and then back to you, seemingly unsure of what to say.  And…you understand.

Being in the hospital with you like this, it’s like you’re both in a bubble.  The memories of the accident are fresh, nightmares about it plague you, you can’t even hope to move on when everything reminds you of why you’re there in the first place.  But, in two days, you’ll move on from this place, go home, recover, resume the rest of your life.

There is a life for you outside of the stark and sterile environment you’re currently in, bright and vibrant and real.  There is nothing for Simon.

The thought bothers you more than you’re willing to admit.  You don’t know where you can go from here, or how, but you do know that you don’t want your connection to end.  

He’s Death, after all.  Omniscient.  Alpha and Omega and everything in between.  And you’re nothing to him, a speck in time and space.  A singular star in a universe.  Fragile, human, fallible, to his infinite.      

He nods again, seemingly in response to a thought he’s had, and when he speaks, he breaks your heart a little.  “I think…I think I feel sad.”

Life is strange when you’re falling in like with Death and He’s falling in like with you.  

[oraclekleo]

[18+] Pick-A-Pile: Ultimate Future Spouse Tarot Reading (PART 1)

Hello, my dear followers and random visitors of this blog of mine! Some (LOOOONG) time ago I promised a detailed and wholesome Pick-A-Pile tarot reading on your Future Spouse. This has originated in the fact I have received so many pretty repetitive Future Spouse requests that instead of doing the same type of reading 20 times, I decided to turn it into a PAC reading. Sorry to everyone who requested the future spouse reading but I’m sure you can choose one of the piles. I have made 6 piles which is a bit too long for Tumblr so this PAC reading is going to come in two parts. Make sure to treat them as if they were one reading. Remember this is still a general reading. Take what resonates with you personally, the rest was probably not meant for you. I have included physical appearance traits. And again not all of the aspects will apply to your future spouse. Dismiss the ones that don’t sound like your type. In case you need any further clarification, don’t be shy to contact me through DM or inbox or my email. If you don’t reach out to me, I will consider all your future spouse requests completed.

Disclaimer:

All of my tarot readings have purely entertainment nature

Tarot isn’t an exact science, I can never ever guarantee any of what’s said in a reading

Tarot isn’t a law or dogma to follow. You have a free will to decide no matter what the cards say.

Never make life decisions based on tarot only.

This is a general reading, take what resonates.

PART 1: PILES 1 - 2 - 3

PART 2: PILES 4 - 5 - 6

PILE 01 - POSEIDON

Cards: 19. The Child (The Oracle of Roses), House Seven (Heavenly Bodies Astrology Oracle), The Goat and Willow (Woodland Wardens Oracle), Dragon, Hawk (The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Oracle), King of Cups, VII The Chariot, 6 of Wands, 4 of Cups (The Light Seer’s Tarot), 5 of Wands, 0 The Fool, XII The Hanged Man, 5 of Cups (Dark Wood Tarot)

Dear Pile 1, your future spouse is a person with integrity and very mature. It’s possible they are older than you but it’s not a rule here. The string of mirroring runs through the whole reading. Your future spouse is a person of great composure, they don’t lose their nerves easily and usually maintain calm in stressful situations. People are likely to look up to them and praise their wisdom and dignity.

Your future spouse knows that nothing comes for free in life, they know they will always reap what they have sown. They have the ability to see value in everything and to see beauty in everyone they meet. Your future spouse is a compassionate person but they don’t let the emotional outbreaks of others sweep them off their feet. They can navigate through the emotional waters like professional sea captains and they rarely slip into anger.

Pile 1, your future spouse has been through tough times. Some of you might relate to the fact that your future spouse is a widower / widow. They carry sadness within their heart and soul, some of them even from previous lifetimes. It has taught them to never lose hope, though. Despite all the hardships they have been through, they still have a life drive, they overcome obstacles and face challenges with courage.

When your future spouse is in a bad mood, they might have a tendency to exaggerate and suspect others. Be careful not to give them a reason to get jealous as they don’t forget easily and once they start suspecting you, you will have a hard time convincing them that nothing happened. Be honest with your spouse, even brutally honest as they have excellent intuition and will see through lies and deceive.

Your future spouse, Pile 1, is a deeply curious person and they are likely to be interested in ways of communication. If it’s not their job, they are likely to adopt a hobby that will allow them to express their thoughts in a sensitive way and reach an audience of adoring fans. They like to be admired for their achievements so don’t forget to compliment them meaningfully. Don’t try to tell them empty flatters, though. They want you to notice and appreciate what they truly did. They are likely to use their words in order to influence other people’s lives for the better. They are likely to be teachers, gurus, counsellors, and therapists. Their life purpose is to reveal other people’s greatness, help them to see the beauty within themselves, as your future spouse can see it at first sight.

Dear Pile 1, your future spouse is a mature and mentor-like person on the outside but deep in their heart, they are pure and even childishly naive sometimes. They believe all people have good in them. They might sometimes be tricked by malicious people but they never lose hope.

When it comes to your future spouse’s love life, they are probably not that experienced. They might only have one or two lovers before meeting you as their relationships tend to be serious and long term. They are more traditional when it comes to dating, they probably believe in old-fashioned courtship. Your future spouse is a gentleman (even if they are female or nonbinary). They are likely to treat you with kindness and utmost respect. While they are old-fashioned, they are not likely to stand for the traditional role stereotypes. You don’t have to worry they would leave cooking and dishes to you while they would sit on a couch motionless. They will treat you well but also put as much effort into your relationship as you do and they will respect your opinions and let you use your unique voice freely.

I mentioned your future spouse is not likely to have many partners before you. That doesn’t mean they are inexperienced when it comes to marital pleasures. Once again, they are more likely to prefer traditional ways, they are not much into extremes or experimenting and the missionary is likely to be their favourite position. Your future spouse might prefer to control the show in the bedroom, not exactly from the position of the dom but as I mentioned, they are gentlemen and they want to treat you and make you feel relaxed. In their eyes, you are the most beautiful creature in the world and they want to worship you as the goddess you are for them. If you have picked this pile, it’s unlikely you’re the type to take charge in bed and you will like your spouse’s proactive approach.

You and your spouse are likely to have a very balanced relationship. You might be very similar in nature, probably started as good friends and just step by step fell in love with each other. For other people you might even look like you mirror each other, you probably subconsciously reach hands to each other at the same moment, you finish each other’s sentences. You are one soul dwelling in two bodies.

Physical Appearance

(Take only the ones that resonates, this is a general reading, if there are features you are not particularly interested in, they weren’t meant for you)

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

PILE 02 - VULCAN

Cards: Seahorse (Wild Mystic Oracle), Freedom (Sacred Destiny Oracle), Eagle, Key, Bag (Tea Leaf Fortune Cards), 8. Commitment (Urban Crow Oracle), 13. Child (Gilded Reverie Lenormand), 37. Descendant (Starcodes Astro Oracle), 4 of Pentacles, 3 of Swords, 9 of Wands (Crow Tarot), 10 of Cups, Knight of Wands, X The Wheel of Fortune (Edgar Allan Poe Tarot)

Dear Pile 2, your future spouse is truly a family person, a daddy, a mommy, the one born to build a family and what’s even more important, they actually truly wish to have a spouse and start a family with them. Your future spouse is reliable both personally and financially, they are likely to be hard workers but also smart workers with a vision. They might start working hard from 9 to 5 but they have ambitions, they are quick to learn and it’s very likely for them to climb the corporate ladder fast or to start a business of their own to make sure their family is well secured.

Dear Pile 2, your future spouse is probably someone who has a big family already or if it’s not a family by blood, they are very close with their friends. If they don’t already have children from a previous marriage when you meet them, they are probably the fun uncle for their nephews, nieces and their friends’ children. They have a fantastic relationship with children in general.

I have mentioned previous marriages and it’s actually pretty possible, your future spouse is a person who went through divorce. The 3 of Swords speak of heartbreak, while the 9 of Wands suggest perseverance. Your future spouse is likely a person who doesn’t really hold grudges. Their divorce might have meant an end to a chapter of their life but it’s possible they maintain a decent and polite relationship with their ex spouse simply to make the whole thing easier for their children. Dear Pile 2, if you have picked these cards, you are probably a person, who will accept and welcome your future spouse’s children from their previous marriages. If this is not your case, pick a different pile.

Dear Pile 2, your future spouse is not a fan of extreme sports or any other kind of hazardous hobby. They are more on the timid side. They might enjoy doing DIY’s, gardening, casual cycling, nature (especially bird watching, I’m getting that strongly). I can sense a certain neatness in your future spouse so it’s very likely they will be willing to help with house chores, maybe even be better in them than you are. They might be good cooks as well. They are truly more of homely types to enjoy the peace and comfort with you and your family.

All these might make you think they are a bit boring when it comes to romance and sex but that’s not the case here. Dear Pile 2, your future spouse is actually a very passionate lover and while they might not be into super kinky practices, they do have a certain curiosity in them and will be willing to explore some of the more pleasurable positions or techniques you might suggest to them. I mentioned they have a thing for nature and it’s possible your future spouse is keen to get down to business outdoors. Camping with them is likely to be fun. Your future spouse has a certain playfulness in them, they might not always let others know always but they do like to tease you. They are no beast but more like a playful kitten. I also see gentleness in them and an open mind. They have no problem being submissive now and then. If you prefer them in a dominant position, they are the soft and caring type of dom.

Dear Pile 2, your future spouse and you seem to have a truly good chemistry. You can see the seahorses how they are in love. Seahorse male is also the one being pregnant which suggests your future spouse is capable of understanding you and stepping into your shoes when you ask them. If you are the housewife but suddenly have to travel away, you don’t have to worry because your spouse is perfectly capable of managing your responsibilities. They are not the type to say they were babysitting. It’s not babysitting when it’s your child, right? Your future spouse knows your children’s schedules and needs and they are capable of taking care of anything. It gives you a fantastic feeling of security with them. The cards are mostly positive and it’s pretty possible you would rarely ever argue.

As I mentioned before, your future spouse is a family person and it’s very likely they will seek a job with good work-life balance. It’s very important for them to feel purpose at work, to be needed and on the other hand, to be adequately rewarded for their hard work. They might try several jobs but if they can’t find a good balance as an employee, they are likely to set their own business up.

In general, your future spouse is likely to always pursue the happiness of their family and they are willing to do anything for it. They are loving, caring and responsible.

Physical Appearance

(Take only the ones that resonates, this is a general reading, if there are features you are not particularly interested in, they weren’t meant for you)

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

PILE 03 - HERMES

Cards: Clover (The Seed & Sickle Oracle), XX The Caiman and Poppy (Woodland Wardens Oracle), LXVII Sublimation (The Wild Unknown Alchemy Oracle), 48. Risks (Oracle of Visions), Growth (Prism Oracle), Pioneer (Archetype Cards), 8 of Cups, 5 of Pentacles, 0 The Fool (Tarot in Wonderland), VIII Strength, 5 of Wands, IX The Hermit (Tarot of the Divine)

Dear Pile 3, your future spouse is a dreamer and idealist. They are always on some sort of a quest - to learn something new, to master a new skill, to help someone, to fight the big evil corporate company, to save the world, you name it. They can’t just sit back, relax and ignore when there’s something wrong or evil going on. They are the hero type of a person. On the other hand, they don’t really have a master plan on how to win the fight and how to achieve their goals. They have passion, curiosity and good will, they go into endeavours head on, they jump into the unknown without thinking about consequences. And that might be challenging for the people around them, specifically you, my dear pile 3. While their intentions are all good, your future spouse might walk around with their head in the clouds, always occupied with some noble mission of theirs, forgetting about all the everyday life details.

Dear Pile 3, your future spouse is likely a person with high values and always trying to become the best version of themselves. Sometimes they rise so above ordinary life, they might lose contact with reality, though. They might become detached from you, family, friends, your community. On the other hand, when like Icarus they fly too close to the sun and fall back down, they will seek help. The only trouble is that people might not be so willing to help someone who left them behind before. You might need to keep your future spouse’s feet on the ground so they don’t cut ties with reality. Their vision and intentions might be excellent ones, they only need the reality check.

As mentioned, your future spouse is a person with goals to achieve and it’s very likely most of their hobbies and interests are ones that will help them on their way. They might not really have a hobby purely for fun, all their leisure activities are actually small steps towards their big goals. They have a very curious mind and it’s likely for them to remain a student for life, constantly reading and learning. That’s something they find pleasure in.

Speaking of pleasures, your future spouse, pile 3, is a person of contradictions. While they seem rather soft, gentle and compassionate when it comes to their noble quests, they truly turn into the beast in sheets. The caiman looks as if in trans most of the time but it becomes fast and furious once it’s after a prey. Your future spouse is similar in that matter. They might seem so deep in thoughts, so well composed while sitting by their desk and the next minute they wipe all things down the desk and have you seated there, ripping the clothes off. I also get a sense of them being well equipped in case your future spouse is a male. They probably aren’t overly romantic in a traditional way. They might be too occupied with all the suffering in the world to remember your wedding anniversary. On the other hand, if you manage to remind them in time, they will come with gifts to you, they probably prefer giving jewellery or perfumes.

I can see a lot of pushing and pulling in your cards so it’s possible your marriage isn’t exactly one made in heaven. You probably will fight and argue. Your future spouse might struggle to compromise, they probably believe they are always right. That’s something that might cause tension. They want to win any argument and they might not always think about possible consequences. Your future spouse is a tricky person to deal with but on the other hand I can see that a more gentle and even cunning approach might be successful for you. If you manage to make your future spouse think that your ideas are theirs, you will live a happy life.

Dear Pile 3, your future spouse might struggle with their career. I mentioned it multiple times, they are idealistic and whenever they feel their employer is being unfair or immoral or whatever issues your future spouse might have with them, they will fight the management or just straight up leave. It might lead to financial struggles as once again your future spouse can’t compromise their values, they can’t overlook any wrongdoings. It might take them a while to find a way to make the world a better place and still be able to pay the bills.

In general, your future spouse is simply too good for this world and you are the one balancing the scales and making sure the mundane issues will get as much attention as the global problems.

Physical Appearance

(Take only the ones that resonates, this is a general reading, if there are features you are not particularly interested in, they weren’t meant for you)

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

See the rest of the piles in PART 2 of this reading.

Please, remember that this tarot reading is purely for fun. Thank you.

Let me know what pile you picked 😊

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[hiddenspriings]

generation 1 ↳ subject #1: robin

Yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking - this girl just cannot stick to one family for long. I just get bored very easily, what can I do... I also had lots of regret towards my lepacy, things were not going as I wanted starting from generation 1, I was constantly running out of time resulting with uncompleted goals and me being overall frustrated. I know not everything has to go my way, it’s totally okay when things get messed up but ultimately it’s my game and my blog and I thought I’d like to do something that truly makes me happy and proud of my work.

So consider this a new start, a lepacy v2. I’ll be still following the same rules but thinking about them more as a guidance, in gen 1 I’d like to just complete bunch of objectives (like, choosing one route as main but also go for others) so there will be science, some music, fishing and gardening, maybe some ghosts?

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #19 – Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

This is the third book I’ve picked up as part of my whole aspirational ‘read a piece of non-SFF capital-l Literature every month’ New Years resolution. Of those three, it is the second I opened only to discover it actually is science fiction and/or fantasy after all. Which is just a very funny thing to happen twice, and also meant the book was significantly less outside my comfort zone than I’d expected. Which did make it quite a pleasant read.

The story follows Klara, an AF (Artificial Friend, a companion robot for children) in a broadly sketched and mildly dystopian future America. At first it just follows her life in the shop where she’s kept, observing the world around her and interacting with the store manager and the other AFs, but the meat of the book is her life with the family who buys her. Over time you learn that Josie, her child, suffers from severe and increasing health issues as a consequence of being ‘lifted’ (genetically enhanced, in some unclear way) in the womb. Klara, being solar-powered and having quietly developed a one-robot religion underpinned by a firm belief in the power and benevolence of Mr. Sun (and a moral opposition to Pollution, which obscures and drives him away) does her best to invoke his help in nourishing and restoring Josie. At the same time, she learns that her job is not just to comfort Josie but, should she die, to be her mother’s replacement goldfish and imitate her perfectly.

The setting is broadly sketched and never really exposited upon – it’s just not something Klara is particularly interested in – but it’s a very modern sort of dystopia. Much of the populace, even among the American professional elite, have been left ‘post-employed’ by robotic automation. The remaining meritocratic elite have embraced novel and risky genetic enhancements for their children, as the only possible way of ensuring they get into a good school and one of the few good careers left. There are fascist militia compounds off in the distance somewhere. The overall feeling is that of a society dimly aware it’s midway through collapsing, but with no ideas of how to arrest its fall. But since Klara has no interest at all in either politics or economics, we only see this as it directly intrudes upon the story, with nary a lecture or manifesto to be seen.

I’ve only ever read one other book by Ishiguro, so I really don’t know how much this generalizes, but the similarities to Never Let Me Go really were striking. Both books are set in really rather horrifying societies, but portrayed in an utterly normalized way by someone who never even thinks to question the real rules they live under. Which is even more striking because in both cases the protagonist is seen by society as only quasi-human – like a person, but existing only in relation to and for the benefit of the people who really matter. And in both cases the story follows the protagonist who lives their life moving through the role they were made for without ever really resisting it, let alone changing it. Not that the roles of ‘friend to sick child’ and ‘mandatory organ donor’ are exactly comparable but, you know.

A definition I’ve always kind of liked for what makes literary fiction, well, literary is that it’s as or more concerned with the beauty and presentation of its prose than it is on the information the prose is conveying. Not at all true in terms of how the term’s actually used (genre is marketing), but it works for me, and lets this book count as literature quite handily. The whole story is told quite tightly from Klara’s point of view, and it’s a pleasure to read. Even if it took me more than a few pages to really understand how she described scenes, always foregrounding the ways they were divided by grids or patterns of the sun’s light.

Portraying the normal human society through the eyes of a naive and somewhat alien narrator to get away without explaining everything is a classic sci fi trope for a reason, but it’s overall used really well here as well.

I’m still not entirely sure how to interpret the sudden intrusion of magical realism with the ending. But otherwise, really quite a good read.

[etirabys]

It's very sweet about CS Lewis to idiotproof Paradise Lost against atheists. He didn't have to do that. He was a Christian writer in a Christian society and I assume he could have gotten away with just talking to other Christians about it and ignoring annoying people who wrongly read subversion into Milton. Instead he gives us a Christianity 101 chapter in A Preface to Paradise Lost and says, "this is the theological canon of the church, and here is how Milton hews to it again and again".

So now I think I understand Christianity. Maybe?

CS Lewis, explaining the canonical beliefs: Everything in nature is intrinsically good. Bad things happen when conscious creatures become "more interested in itself than in God", or assumes it can exist independently of God, as when Milton's Satan says that he is "self-begot".

me: Just for fun, let me enumerate the possible answers to 'who begot us?' – (1) conscious supreme being – e.g. Christian God, (2) our parents – e.g. Confucianism, (3) the self, (4) the weight of human history – humanity co-creating itself by maintaining a matrix of culture, (5) Nature – non-conscious but still revered, e.g. planet worship / I hecking love science, (6) null answer – non-conscious material processes.

Lewis: God knows in advance that some conscious entities will voluntarily make themselves bad and also knows what good use He will make of their badness. As [Milton's] angels point out, whoever tries to rebel against God produces the result opposite to his intention. At the end of the poem Adam is astonished at the power 'that all this good of evil shall produce'. This is the exact reverse of the programme Satan had envisaged in Book I, when he hoped, if God attempted any good through him, to 'pervert that end'; instead he is allowed to do all the evil he wants and finds that he has produced good. Those who will not be God's sons become His tools.

me: That's such beautiful cope! I've heard the badly-articulated versions of that Christian belief but it turns out I'm unprincipled and like it when you, Charisma Stat Lewis, say it.

me: It's also hard not to speculate that this belief is more adaptive in a world with e.g. a 50% child mortality rate.

Lewis: Also, The apple wasn't magic. THE APPLE WASN'T MAGIC. The only point of forbidding it was to instill obedience. The disobedience was so heinous precisely because obedience was so easy.

me: it was a shit test

Lewis: The Fall consisted of man's disobedience to his superior and was punished by man's loss of authority over his inferiors – chiefly over his passions and his physical organism. "Man has called for anarchy: God lets him have it." After the Fall, understanding ceased to rule and the will did not listen to understanding.

me: okay so what about the physical organism

Lewis: Man used to control his erections before the Fall

me: what

Lewis: That's right. No accidental boners. No morning wood. No dead bedroom subreddits. You can clench your fist without being angry and you can be angry without clench your fist. The will controls the fist. The sexual organs used to be like that.

me: That follows splendidly from "man was punished by the passions overruling the will" and yet I wasn't expecting that at all. Probably because I'm female? I annotated your "the will did not listen to understanding" with "we didn't have akrasia before the fall", because akrasia is a big problem for me. But being horny isn't.

me: I mean, obviously some women are really horny and causes them to act in unwise ways, and some men aren't horny. But "single men under age 25 are the most societal-problem-causing demographic" is well known, and even outside that age range, men seem to be, like, "cursed with horny" in a way that requires managing & makes them miserable on a day to day basis... so it makes sense that male interpreters would identify that with the Fall. It's conceptually congruent in a way "the Fall caused childbirth to be painful" isn't.

Lewis: Anyway, the Fall – people overcomplicated it. The apple is just an apple. It's not an allegory. The Fall consisted of Disobedience – doing what your superiors told you not to do – and resulted from Pride, which is forgetting your place. This is what the Church has always taught. Milton states it in the very first line of his poem and all his characters reiterate it from every possible point of view. Don't read false emphases into Milton! This is what he is saying: obedience to the will of God will make you happy and disobedience will make you miserable.

me: Well, obviously you know that your modern reader doesn't like this. You're pleasantly cognizant of atheist readers who are into self-governance and equality.

Lewis: The modern idea that we can choose between hierarchy and equality is not quite right. The real alternative to hierarchy is tyranny. If you will not have authority you will find yourself obeying brute force.

me: I simultaneously have a suspicious-resistant feeling and the perception that, when people in my milieu disagree with this, your view is the baseline from which we deviate minorly. Any form of functional social arrangement is going to have something that looks like authority and obedience.

Lewis: Understand this: Milton's poem belongs to a hierarchical conception of the universe where everything except God has some natural superior and everything except dead matter has some natural inferior. Superiors should rule over inferiors. When Milton protests an instance of rule (he was against the monarchy of the Stuarts) he is disagreeing that the Stuarts are superior while still thinking that hierarchy is cosmically good. The justice or injustice of any given instance of rule depends wholly on the nature of the parties, not on any social contract.

me: I have little respect for Confucianism because it strikes me as so overtly a system of thought with no internal merit or wisdom on the micro, whose only function is to make society run on the macro. (I'm sorry to say "only" there, because that's a big function.) What you describe has the same feel. This isn't a great label for it, but I'd call both Confucianism and Christian hierarchy 'biological philosophies', in that of course this is the philosophy that materially deprived apes who want both power and stability would equilibriate on: a system of subjugation and cope. The hierarchical conception itself is "understanding ceasing to rule".

Lewis: [Lewis would doubtless totally own me. But he doesn't directly address this in anything I've read by him, and I can't simulate him in enough detail to generate his response.]

[wackyrumble]

Wackiest Character Tournament

does explaining your guy (gender neutral) make other people laugh? go "what the fuck?" "Huh?" personally, i adore characters who's existence sounds stupid and nonsensical. thus... the tournament is born.

send me only your most absurd sounding characters here and let them fight

regular rule applies: you can nominate multiple characters but do not nominate the same character multiple times number of submissions doesn't matter here what matters is their levels of wacky

i'm not checking the things the characters are from for being problematic and i am not well acquainted with what is generally considered to be so be advised. i might do background checks on characters but not what they're from, but if it's like an extreme case, you are free to bring it up to me and argue why a character should be removed i will hear you out. generally, if the character that is being nominated isn't abhorrent themselves (nazi, pedo, etc i will be the judge on that) it's acceptable

no harry potter submissions though fuck you guys

no real people unless it's really funny i'm counting the dsmp guys in no real people mostly because i just do not like that series but also i don't know shit about where it falls on the real people-ness thing but i doubt it's funny enough for me. i guess you can try though

i will accept ocs IF i think they fit and you can provide an image (i will accept a picrew with credit)

characters will be chosen based on highest levels of weird, so feel free to submit your most obscure guys! i also ask people do vote in polls on the basis of which character is more weird (descriptions will be included) rather than actual character preference in the name of science. obviously i cannot control anybody to actually do this but please keep in mind that's what i would prefer

tagging some tournaments i like :) @weirdstrangeguybattle @latine-showdown @miss-latam-sexy-tournament @guess-that-ship @who-do-i-know-this-man @insanepoll @ultimate-word-tournament

examples and such below:

if you're unsure what counts, i'd say follow your heart. basically just assume that so long as it's not realistic and describing them to another person might make them laugh or confused they are a viable fighter, they don't need to have a quirky personality themselves if everything else about them is the utmost quirky. i will dictate what does and does not count at my own discretion

examples

- dark riku from kingdom hearts: a replica of a replica of a guy named riku that time travelled to the future. the guy's deal is so confusing and not explained clearly enough that i think majority of the fandom still don't know what the hell he is. there's a scene where the riku replica is apprehending dark riku and riku is watching them

- denji from chainsaw man: was in debt for like a fuck ton of money and sold one of his balls, later became a devil hunter and all he wanted from his job was to touch boobs. loves dating women who want to kill him, had a whole sharknado scene where he was trying to kill his girlfriend

- don't hug me i'm scared characters probably

- most yugioh characters probably

[thaumpenguin]

An important thing to note about Jack Seward is that he's the character who most embodies the "enlightened rationalism" of Victorian Britain, the precise rationalism that leaves them such a perfect victim for Dracula. Most of the western cast fit into this mold to some degree or another, but Seward is the asylum keeper, the ultimate authority on what is Reasonable and what is Nonsense. His entire worldview is built on the idea that everything, even the minds of madmen, follow certain rules, can be explained. He is not flexible in this.

Jack Seward is also the only link between Lucy and van Helsing. From early on Abraham realizes that this young woman is being preyed upon by a genuinely supernatural being. But he's only able to help her as long as his old student, Jack, maintains his view of van Helsing as an ultimately reasonable and sensible man of science. But Abraham knows Jack, knows that in that head is a mind that sees a world of cogs and chemicals. His only hope of saving Lucy is to keep his cards close to his chest while prodding his actually-quite-neurotic former student in the right direction. Occasionally, force him to confront surely undeniable evidence.

But Seward is inflexible. He sees the bites, the inexplicable and repeated blood loss. Yet his mind refuses to connect the dots. A part of him can sense that if he were to accept the conclusions of the evidence in front of him, the very foundations of his world would shatter. Irrational, inexplicable, unknowable.

And that, is scary. His mind leaps away from the possibility like a critter from a snake. This is an instinctual defence mechanism, meant to keep this particular human machine from breaking, as inflexible things often do.

What van Helsing sees when Jack reads Lucy's memorandum is a panicking animal. Here is someone unpredictable, someone just as likely to double down as to break.

And so, the rationalist becomes irrational. His reason kept on a leash.

But some day, in a moment of weakness, that reason will break free, and charge at the conclusion it always sensed was there.

What happens then?