#home automation open source

[olivergisttv]

How to Build a DIY Smart Home Hub Using Open-Source Tools

In a world where smart home devices are becoming increasingly popular, building your own smart home hub using open-source tools offers a flexible and cost-effective solution. A smart home hub acts as the central control system for all your connected devices, allowing you to automate tasks, control gadgets, and monitor your home from a single interface. With open-source tools, you can customize…

[stevespookington]

We are heading into severe weather season in the US soon (and by soon I mean tomorrow) (disclaimer, this is all general advice. pay attention to the official weather sources in your area for alerts and important information. I am not an expert, weather info is just a hobby for me.)

National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA)/National Weather Service (NWS) has (for now anyways) the Storm Prediction Center (SPC) which is a great source of information to stay weather aware.

The SPC puts out Convective Outlooks. These show where thunderstorms and severe weather have the potential to pop up. (With temperatures warming up, the movement of warm air leads to convection in the atmosphere which results in thunderstorms and sometimes severe weather. There is a good blog post going into more detail here)

Specifically, the outlooks are:

Day 1 Outlook (today and early tomorrow morning)

Day 2 Outlook (the next 24 hours following early tomorrow morning)

Day 3 Outlook (the next 24 hours)

Day 4-8 Outlook (the next days, but these are never too certain due to the way the models work)

These outlooks are timestamped with Zulu time aka Coordinated Universal Time (UTC). You can see how that compares to your local timezone here.

Today (3/13/25), the weather outlook is okay, just a slight risk of thunderstorms across the US. However, Friday (3/14/25) and Saturday (3/15/25) both have a widespread risk of severe weather including strong winds and tornadoes.

If you are in any of these colored regions, stay weather aware! Now, this doesn't mean you have to panic, but keep an eye on the weather reports in your area!

I tend to check the SPC in the morning so I know when I have to really be paying attention to the weather for the day/coming days.

Below is more info on the color coding which you can read more about here. (In addition here is a powerpoint from the NWS with more information "12 Things You Need to Know: Severe Weather Outlooks")

Tips on staying weather aware, it's important to have access to several weather sources.

Check the SPC for updates!

Find your closest NWS Forecast Office via zip code on weather.gov

Keep an eye on the local news and local weather reports

Consider getting a weather radio! (info here from NWS) This is good for if you lose power/internet as you can check the automated radio stations near you

Check the radar (I use the radarscope app) but you can check online with websites like radar.weather.gov or wunderground.com

Ryan Hall Y'all is a youtube channel that livestreams during most severe weather outbreaks

More weather info:

Severe Weather 101

How NOAA Satellites Help Us Stay Ahead of Severe Weather Season

How to Use and Interpret Doppler Weather Radar

TropicalTidbits - Info on hurricanes and other tropical weather

NWS - Emergency Supplies Kit Info

Weather Prediction Center - similar to SPC but more generalized

What to do During a Tornado (via NWS):

Stay Weather-Ready: Continue to listen to local news or a NOAA Weather Radio to stay updated about tornado watches and warnings.

At Your House: If you are in a tornado warning, go to your basement, safe room, or an interior room away from windows. Don't forget pets if time allows.

At Your Workplace or School: Follow your tornado drill and proceed to your tornado shelter location quickly and calmly. Stay away from windows and do not go to large open rooms such as cafeterias, gymnasiums, or auditoriums.

Outside: Seek shelter inside a sturdy building immediately if a tornado is approaching. Sheds and storage facilities are not safe. Neither is a mobile home or tent.  If you have time, get to a safe building.

In a vehicle: Being in a vehicle during a tornado is not safe. The best course of action is to drive to the closest shelter. If you are unable to make it to a safe shelter, either get down in your car and cover your head, or abandon your car and seek shelter in a low lying area such as a ditch or ravine.

NOAA and NWS are under threat from everything going on right now. (Hundreds of weather forecasters fired in latest wave of DOGE cuts.) They provide vital services and do very important research about our weather and climate. While 5calls.org does not currently have a template centered on NOAA/NWS, they have similar ones that you could reference, modify, and use. (I have modified one below that you might consider using.) (5calls.org also has other very important scripts that you might use for other issues.) Please consider calling your representatives and telling them how important weather information is to everybody and that they should be protecting it, not defunding it. Not only for severe weather, but for climate change research and more.

Hi, my name is [NAME] and I’m a constituent from [CITY, ZIP]. I'm calling to demand that [REP/SEN NAME] oppose any legislation, or efforts by the executive branch to dismantle or abolish the National Weather Service or the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. The recent reduction in staff is unacceptable, and will put Americans' lives and property at risk to severe weather. Reduced warning capabilities will put lives at risk and could potentially make response and recovery more hazardous and more expensive. Thank you for your time and consideration. IF LEAVING VOICEMAIL: Please leave your full street address to ensure your call is tallied.

While this is geared towards the US, a lot of this information can be applied via resources specific to your country. And finally, to quote Ryan Hall, Don't be Scared, Be Prepared.

[iteratorsex]

Entanglement, Impurity, and Kegare in Rain World

I mentioned before in another post that I would touch on the topic of impurity, rot, and kegare and how it continuously reappears in Vanilla and ESPECIALLY Watcher. Here it is.

But yes, it can't really be understated how important these are to the themes lore of ascension and entanglement in RW and the dichotomy that exists

This topic relates to FP, Hunter, Watcher, and the Ancients. It's all over the place man.

I actually got this idea from Darthz, who was the one who brought it up to me initially. I'm just expanding on it and writing it all down further

What is Kegare and Why Am I Bringing It Up

Kegare is a Shinto concept. Specifically it represents pollution alongside magakoto (abnormality) and tsumi (imperfection). The avoidance of these taboos itself is called imi. Though I'm only mentioning kegare, technically I am referring to all 3 of these terms (to make things easier)

It was accumulated through and/or caused by being victim of disaster, proximity to death, being physically unclean, committing terrible actions, or even childbirth (for sexism reasons. Don't worry about it)

It operates very similarly to karma, being determined by cause and effect and was amoral and natural. Though it was taboo, and those who may have had it were avoided, it was not out of sinful reasoning

"Also, suffering is not regarded as a form of punishment for human behavior, but, rather, as a natural element of human experience."

Having too much kegare would bring more misfortune, illness, and disaster with whoever carried it

About the Ancients and Karma Gates

The ancients themselves seem to ALSO have a taboo of a similar nature.

"May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

Though this isn't much to go off of.

Though maybe we can look to some outside sources. The steam released by the karma gates is said to be decontaminating. This is big. This is huge

Here you can see the steam coming out of either a vent below the grate, or coming off a heating coil, before the other side opens up.

These gates exist and were built in order to filter out and decontaminate whoever passes through, similar to harae. You wouldn't want any impurities passing through your temples and homes and facilities, would you?

"...and when the production was automated it would generally remain on the same site. So that the old stones could... radiate the material with holiness, I suppose."

Even in industrially automated processes, there was some spiritualism involved. Decontamination may have been pretty important as to not dirty up those so called holy stones

You see these gates in front of the AU voidbath and the path to FP in a long hallway. You even see it in Verdant Waterways, which may have just been a huge water purification plant! So the decontamination is still a factor there

Ancient Urban, FP's Roof, and Verdant Waterways in order.

"I was embalmed, adorned, readied for the journey."

If being dunked in void fluid required you to first be embalmed and sterilized, what does that imply? There was a worry of decomposition or decay when it came to the process of ascension.

About Five Pebbles and Hunter

Now seeing how kegare exists within the beliefs or actions of the Ancients and how much they wanted to prevent it from settling, what about seeing the consequences for yourself?

Five Pebbles contracted the rot after essentially killing Moon, something that would cause kegare (or, specifically tsumi here). He tried to break his taboos and ended up entangling himself further and also terribly hurting someone else, bringing with him sorrow that he tries to make up for in Hunter (see how often he mentions Moon?)

Though yes, it was CERTAINLY caused by him fucking up an experiment. Metaphorically, it is a form of kegare

Even the wording for the rot. Unfortunate... corruption... its a natural but terrible thing that happens

"He's sick, you know. Being corrupted from the inside by his own experiments.""...on his first fit of corruption he dumped a lot of infected material there..."

I even feel that the one off dialogue about FP and not using holy ash was subtle foreshadowing to what he's experiencing

Even in the only other place rot appears and spreads in is an actual DUMP!

But what about Hunter?

I believe that Hunter and Five Pebbles are intended to be narrative parallels to each other, having tried to change themselves in an act of desperation, but failing and contracting a disease.

"We both have something... unfortunate growing in us."

But how did Hunter get this "unfortunate" disease? Is it even The Rot?

Well... it's not directly the rot. But it's confirmed to be RELATED to it.

As for the cause of Hunter's disorder? I think this quote from the 1.5 kickstarter announcement can answer part of it.

"...It is a being pushing beyond the confines of its place in the ecosystem, and thus is karmically imbalanced in this world."

This is likely because of the fact that Hunter CHOSE to start killing and eating meat when it previously did not need to. It engaged with unsanitary acts of eating raw meat and hunting and killing, possibly out of desperation

And considering Hunter's disease, this and the karmic imbalance could very much be tied into each other. The fact that Hunter also accepts to deliver the Green Neuron, when it could have simply abandoned at any point, also shows that they're willing to also make up for the misfortune they carry, similar to Five Pebbles

Whatever it is, its clear disease, desperation, and karmic alignment all correspond and relate to each other. This desperation which is entangling, and which the Drainage pearl warns about, how struggling in the fishing net only results in you being more tangled in it

Also, the use of unfortunate in that pearl is not lost on me

"It says that the world is an unfortunate mess."

About Watcher

Watcher definitely ALSO leans into the uncleanliness aspect, as you can tell with the absurd amount of rot that's around everywhere

As well as this... there are no karma gates. The warps cannot cleanse you of whatever you carry between regions. Both ST and Watcher are like 2 kids dragging mud (rot) with them where they go

"So glad I cannot sniff! Spoiled meat, dissolving proteins. Yeeck."

There are entire regions dedicated to just this raw Pollution. It's disgusting and dirty and nobody wants to be in it, yet its clear this is just a natural thing. An unfortunate reality

The rot IS just straight up entanglement and the embodiment of the cycle itself, only existing to Consume and Reproduce. Its sticky and web-like, it corrupts and eats and decays. It's pretty in your face about what it is. The fact FP caught it while being desperate...? But I already talked about that before.

As well as this, Outer Rim is caked in mud, and so is Badlands (which warps to Unfortunate Evolution). These are the only places currently that have mud at all, and both lead to rot one way or another. The regions themselves Are Just Disgusting

Not to mention Station Annex (which also leads to UE) is just littered with lizard corpses...

Conclusion

Rot is kegare. A pollution of existence that is brought by disaster or terrible actions, and which causes misfortune and brings even more disaster

The Ancients themselves must have known of this- or at least known of a similar phenomenon to the rot with the same root and effect, and so built karma gates and continued practices to keep themselves clean while they lived and while they ascended

[neesieiumz]

catharsis || ──────── s. aizawa

day five — SOMNOPHILIA / VOICE KINK / DADDY KINK

『 synopsis 』 after a long patrol, your husband comes with an ache only you can sate, only to find you deep in sleep

『 warnings 』 — 18+. sm*t. minors do not interact. husband!aizawa. pro-hero!reader. p*orn with very little plot. that's why it's shorter than my normal fics. established relationship. she is a natural disasters hero. and he has his normal job. somnophilia. voice kink. daddy kink. he is very much in love with you. like borderline obsessed with you. and vice-versa as well. female reader. black-coded reader but anyone can read. he calls you a slut but you enjoy it. sweet aftercare. was this self indulgent? i plead the fifth, how bout that?

『 writers notes 』 honestly feel like i overdid with the daddy kink but here we are! hope you enjoy it and you won't get a new ktober fic until next week tuesday! check the masterlist!

『 word count 』 3.0k

previous fic in ktober | masterlist | next fic in ktober

The night had fallen upon your home before you had known it, the twinkling stars gazing down at you, the full moon’s brightness fully mocking your somnolence. You could no longer stay up for him, no matter how much you tried. You had waited for long before sleep was beginning to overtake your body, and you knew this was another night you’d go without being able to see your husband. 

Your husband was Eraserhead to the world, but at home, he was Shouta to you. Your Shouta. The two of you were heroes, after all, that was how the two of you met. You knew the long nights that came with the job, especially with him being a teacher as well. 

Dressed in a thin two-piece set, in a pale baby blue, you lay on your bed, covered in your warm sheets, with nothing but the sounds of your automated fan blowing cool air into your room, combatting the heated summer night outside. With school out, and your husband only getting a reduced check from his main source of income, he had no choice but to join up in nightly patrols, his main specialty when it comes to hero work. 

The two of you found each other while working patrols late at night, you being a new transfer from a faraway city on the outskirts of Japan, where natural disasters were then likely to occur. 

“Eraserhead, what kind of name is that?” Your smile was wide, contagious even. 

The two of you stood in an alleyway, with him hanging upside down from it, his eyes obscured by the bulky yellow goggles he constantly wore.

“Trust me, I was definitely not the one to make it.” His voice was deep and grave, it slightly echoed through the alley. 

“That means whoever made the name must have been pretty special huh?”

It was silent for a moment, and for a moment, you thought you hit a nerve, anxiety rising within you. 

“Yeah, I guess you can say they were.”

You gleaned up at him, seeing some semblance of a smile on his face. This caused your own smile to widen slightly, standing up straight. 

Your marriage was a private one, one with family and friends only, a short, quiet, and intimate event. The two of you only had a week off for your honeymoon, during the time of which students were out for school to not mess with his schedule. The two of you are extremely busy, with his job as a hero course teacher and of course your own as a rescue and natural disasters hero. The two of you barely had time for each other, easily taking what you could with each other. You knew what came with dating and eventually marrying another hero, especially with someone like your Shouta. 

You lay across the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the comfort of the comforters, onto the softness of the mattress. Closing your eyes, hoping to bring a new day, hopefully with your husband’s arms comfortably snug around your waist. 

— — — —

You heard a squeak first. 

Your eyes barely cracked open, still heavy with sleep, as the squeaking sound got louder and longer for a moment and then stopped altogether. You didn’t move, your heart racing and beating drums within your chest as the sound of muffled footsteps got closer and closer to your bed. You could hear ruffling, like clothes were being moved before the familiar fresh scent of mahogany and lavender, your body relaxing as you did so. You opened your eyes a little bit further, being able to see the clock on your bedside table, seeing the number 2:34 glowing from the digital clock. This was a first, you never woke up when he came home from patrols, you always found yourself being wrapped up in his arms when you woke up in the morning. You tried to find the confines of sleep, hoping to easily slip into it, knowing you’ll wake up in your husband’s arms once more. 

Creaakkk…

His footsteps got closer and closer, his scent slowly gaining intensity as something within went off, like chilling tingles crawling up your spine. You could feel his eyes staring holes into you, possibly scanning your entire form wrapped up in your blankets. A familiar tingling sensation began to erupt and spread through you. It had been months since the last time he touched you, the two of you being completely swamped with work. Suddenly, the bedframe creaked, as you felt the mattress underneath you slightly dip. He was so close to you, his knee grazing up against your back, the blanket being the only thing that kept the two of you lightly touching. Droplets of water, possibly from his shower that he took when you were still deep in sleep, dripped down onto you, feeling the cool, wet spots from your blanket. You kept yourself as still as possible, sleep still dancing in your eyes. And then, all of a sudden, he crouched down, the bed creaking along as he did.

It took all your self-control not to gasp as you felt his erection pressing up against you. Even with the blanket, you could still feel it. You held back the slight gasp out a slight moan as he pushed his hip in between your bottom. He let out a hefty groan, his head falling right beside your own, his lips right next to your ear as he did. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, feeling yourself beginning to drip down your thighs and stain your thin shorts. All of your self-control was slipping piece by piece, your body aching and wanting for him. Your breathing became shaky, you know he could hear it, and yet he continued his actions. You could feel his lips slowly press up kisses along your cheek and jawline. His nose nestled itself in between your ear and your hairline that peeked from the night-time scarf you wore, before taking a deep breath in, taking your freshly washed scent, your body wash, as well as your nighttime hair products. 

“You smell so good,” his voice wasn't strained, as if he was holding back as well.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke again, the bed creaking again as he moved, his hands beginning to move down, thumbing along the hemline of your shorts.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here as much, snowflake,” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now officially slipping down into your shorts. 

His fingers slipped in between your legs, two of his fingers easily spreading your lips apart, cool air hitting your clit, causing your body to tremble ever so slightly. Your mouth is slightly agape, drool slowly dripping out of your mouth onto your pillow. His fingers easily spilled into the mess in between your legs, pressing up against your clit. Carefully, he massaged circles into you, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. He probably didn’t wake you up. You had just gotten home from aiding a beach town devastated by a hurricane, pulling people out from rubble, and creating emergency service tents. 

“I know you just got back, but I…” he trailed off on his words as his fingers slipped further down, sliding in between your labia. 

“I can’t hold myself back, fuck.”

Your husband sounded so pretty, his voice straining every syllable as his hips ground more and more into you. By now, your shorts were a mess, and your underwear soaked with your juices. No longer able to hold yourself back, you softly pushed your hips back against his fingers, and hard-on. He most definitely felt your movements, letting out a massive groan as his dick twitched underneath his boxers. 

“Naughty girl, such a slut even in your sleep…” his chuckle echoed against your bedroom walls, as his fingers dipped in even further, one of them pressing into your hole. 

“Everytime I have to stay away from you, whether it be my job, or your own job, I can feel myself descending into madness–” his words suddenly cut off with a guttural groan, his hips suddenly giving off a sharp thrust.

“I am obsessed with you, you know that right?”

Tears dripped down your eyes, staining your pillows as his words enchanted you, sending great shocks of ecstasy through you. You could feel yourself trembling, only aching for him more and more. His own boxers were sticky with pre-cum, you could feel it oozing onto your satin shorts, slowly mixing in with your own soaked juices. His hand slowly pulled themselves away from your cunt, the sudden loss of pleasure causing your emotions to deflate before feeling that very same hand pulling at the hem of your shorts. You kept as still as possible as his large hands pulled your shorts down around your ankles, revealing your wet pussy. 

“Agh, fuck,” is all he could say as he suddenly sat up for a moment. 

You could hear shuffling in the background, most likely him taking off his boxers, hearing some kind of fabric being thrown in the air and landing on the floor. You felt his hands back on you, before feeling the tip of cock press up against your cunt, slipping and sliding in between your lips, gathering some of your juices. With a final swipe, before you knew it, you felt him press the tip at your pussy, your body trembling as he began to push it. 

“Baby, baby fuck–”

He pushed himself deeper into you, your eyes squeezed shut, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Missed you, missed you so fucking much,”

You had never heard him ramble like that, his usually deep gravelly voice seeped in desperation. His hands gripped at the meat of your thigh, holding your place as he rutted his hips into you. Your lips parted, and the entire area underneath them was drenched with sweat. Your hands tightly squeeze the comforter. The heat was overtaking you, a violent intensity grappling at you. Your thoughts that once ran wild soon became filled with one thought, Shouta. Everything about him was different, the way his voice hit your ears, each syllable easily ripping a new reaction out of you. It was only a matter of time before you lost control before he knew you were awake, feeling everything he was doing to you. 

“My wife, my pretty wife,” he groaned, his hands moving up and about.

“How could I fucking stay away from you?”

With his strength, he moved you about with ease. You no longer lay at your side, but instead, your knees dug into the mattress, your stomach lying against the bed. He pressed his hand against your back, your back arching up against him. He never pulled his cock out of you, staying snug inside you as he positioned you to where he wanted you to be. 

As soon as you were in position, he held no mercy towards you. Pounding away at you, like a man with nothing else to live for at that moment but to ravage you. Tears welled in your eyes as absolute euphoric pleasure took over you, it came as quick as lighting. With the sudden overload on your senses, your control over your actions snapped.

A moan slipped out of your lips, the sound causing him to falter for just a moment. With the wet sound of skin against skin, he leaned down once more, moving his long hair out of his face, finally allowing him to see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes slightly opened, rolled to the back of your head, mouth agape with spit dripping down.

One of Shouta’s hands stayed at your hips while the other suddenly reached down, wrapping around underneath your chin, pulling your body upwards with ease. Your hands propped you up as he pulled your head back, your eyes locking. The position allowed you to see just how frenzied your husband looked. His thick fat cock plunging mg into you, each movement only escalating him more and more.

“How long have you been awake sweetheart? Huh, liked what I was doing to you? Hmm?”

You tried to speak, but the only thing that could slip out of your mouth was pleas if you could even call it that.

“Daddy, Daddy-fuck, it’s too–fuck!” You screeched, gripping at the pillow as your eyes squeezed shut, overcome by the sudden frenzied thrusts your husband was sending your way. 

“Dirty little slut, letting me think you were asleep ? How long were you awake for?”

For a moment, you couldn’t answer him, only focused on the effervescent volcano building up within you. All of a sudden, his thrusts slowed down, causing you to whine as you looked back at his teary eyes. 

“I asked you, how long have you been awake?”

“Since the moment—ahh– you walked in! Since the moment, you walked in, please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy!”

Shouta suddenly pulled all the way out, your cunt only squeezing around the tip of his fat cock, before slamming it back into you, almost hitting and bruising your cervix. Both you and his own moans and groans echoed into the air, mixing together in a beautiful melody. His hand left your chin, your body flopping forward for a couple seconds before suddenly feeling your arms being jerked back. Your moans became scream-like as he grabbed at both of your wrists, suddenly pulling your arms back. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, hissing as he pummeled into you, “so fucking tight–huh, you like the way I fuck you, huh?”

You could barely get any words out, shaking your head vigorously, clenching around him. Every plunge into your cunt devoured you, your husband’s moans and groans had your body trembling. His growls reverberated within your ears, only causing your body to curl in pleasure. 

“I said,” he suddenly cut into your thoughts, your body jerking up even further, “you like the way I fuck you, slut”

“Yes, daddy!”

Shouta’s chuckle was deep, and his thrusts only overwhelmed you even further. You relished in the way your skin took the pain, feeling the bloom and sting tingle all over you. If you could blush, you knew the bottom of your thighs would be blooming red. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your eyes rolling out the back of your head. All of a sudden, Shouta dropped your arms, your body flopping, back arching into the bed as his hands gripped at the flesh at your hips and butt. His thrusts became erratic in nature, his already broken-down composure crumbling even further. You could hear his breathy words, soaking in the neediness laced within them. 

“Missed you so fucking much, my wife– my fucking wife.”

“Look so fucking pretty, so fucking senstive f’ me.”

“Missed this pretty fucking pussy, hate how much I have to leave you–fuck!”

Shouta’s body lurched, towering over your own. You could feel his sweat dripping down from his body, falling like light rain into your almost bareback, your thin night-top crumpled up at your bosom. Your hands crumpled up the blankets and sheets underneath you, the feeling of your tongue slightly grazing against the fabric. Your words soon dulled out, the only thing on your tongue was your monas and coherent words putting together the title you called him in bed. You could feel your cunt tightening up around him, like a ticking time bomb going off within you. 

“Such a sweet fucking pussy– fuck–” his body suddenly lunched, the bruising grip he had on your hip tightening. 

Your body convulsed, shaking in his hold as your mind went blank white, tears streaking out of your eyes as your climax ripped out of you, your juices spilling and ripping all over him. 

“Daddy!—”  your final words cut, your voice echoing against the white walls of your room.

With a final grunt, you felt your husband slump over, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, painting your walls white. Soon, the only thing you could hear was the sounds of your heavy breathing, both your and Shouta’s as well. You let out a whimper as you felt him pull out his cock out of you, leaving you with withdrawal. Without him letting go of your hips, your legs fully slumped onto the wet bed. With hands still around you, shrieking as he swept you up from the bed. You held onto him as your husband slowly got off the bed, turning your head to see him slip into your bedroom’s bathroom, using one hand to turn the light on. He placed you on the toilet, before walking to your sink. You couldn't help the soft smile that slowly appeared on your face as you heard the faucet turn on. 

He walked back over with a rag, slowly opening up your legs as you both felt and saw your cum mixed with his, dripping down your inner thigh. He moved the warm rag against your skin, letting out a short gasp as he grazed the rag against your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the main source of the mess. You heard your husband let out a breath of a chuckle, seeing a ghost of a smirk etched on his face. Your soft smile turned abashed as your hand reached up, smacking him slightly on his shoulder. Your brick house of a husband didn’t even flinch from your smack, continuing to clean you up. Soon you could feel nothing but the touch of water on your legs. Once finished, your husband slowly pulled your soaked shorts down the rest of the way, before tossing them into your laundry hamper. With nothing else, he carried you back to the bed. 

The two of you slipped underneath the sheets, his arm easily wrapping your waist as he pulled you close. You had no use of the pillows, using your husband’s naked chest, humming at the warmth that radiated off of his body. Before you knew it, you had laid a soft kiss against the beefy shoulder of your husband, before snuggling back into him. You both heard and felt him move, smiling as you felt a soft pressure against the top of your head, feeling the sensation of lips. With that, you drifted off to sleep, slowly hearing your own husband’s snores echo into her. 

[nightlybakes]

Old Rice

Osamu Miya x Fem!Reader angst

Warnings, cheating, angst with no comfort

Synopsis: You can feel your relationship slip away from your fingers as he stays late at work more with a new distraction.

The apartment felt so empty, laying on the couch as the TV plays a random game show. You check the clock to see if it was time to head to bed. It was. But you couldn’t help but stay in your spot, waiting a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? Osamu would have been upset if he knew.

Your eyes turn back to the glowing TV, an empty laugh erupts from your mouth as another contestant gets eliminated in a cartoonish way. The hosts commentary was interrupted by familiar sound. Your eyes darted down to the source.

Buzz

Without checking, you felt your body grow cold and your stomach growing the same uneasy feeling again. Your arm hesitate to reach your phone on the coffee table, you knew it was gonna be the same dreaded text. Unlocking your phone wasn’t necessary to see the message.

9:47pm

Oso💕 - Inventory is taking long, I’ll be late tn

Oso💕 - Sorry, I’ll make it up to you

A hum left your lips as your eyes glazed over the screen again. This would be the fourth night he had stayed back in the shop for inventory instead of coming home. The tenth time in the last month. Laying back down on the couch while propping up your phone in your hands, swiping up to check the last few texts between you two. They felt so empty, almost like they were automated messages from you both. You both stopped asking about each other’s days a long time ago.

You grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, the sudden darkness didn’t surprise you. Careful to get up and walk out to the kitchen, flicking the switch on to look for something to eat before heading to bed. The wooden floors creaked under your feet as you open the fridge, it used to be full of prepped meals and snacks that slowly disappeared as Osamu stopped spending time at home. He used to experiment new onigri flavors in your shared kitchen where you would sneak bites and give feedback. But now he opted to use his professional kitchen at the shop.

The kitchen used to be a place where you two would eat and laugh together, mornings spent trying to surprise the other with a breakfast in bed, late night snacking, or holding each other while whispering nonsense. It was marked with photos and trinkets but now felt more lonely than ever.

The last container was tucked into the back of the fridge, reaching for it. You could make out what it contained, and your guess was correct. It was two neatly packed onigris Osamu left, they were pickled plums. You thought it would be nice to heat them up, something warm to enjoy before going to sleep. You place the container into the microwave for a minute, the loud hum of the microwave echos through the mostly empty kitchen.

Leaning against the counter while staring at the floor, you wondered what happened that lead to this, and if there was a way to fix it. Is there something that could be fixed? Is this worth fixing now? You used to spend so much time together and now it faded away. Those precious memories were slowly becoming a thing of your past. Your head couldn’t wrap around it, you spent almost three years with what you thought was the man of your dreams but now he felt more like a stranger. Lovers turn roommates.

You missed his touch, his scent, his warmth.

Yet it was harder to ignore the second lingering scent on his clothes, the smudges of pink lip gloss on the collars of his shirts, the way you saw him hug her through the window of his restaurant. He looked same as the day you had accepted his confession, so happy with that gleam of adoration in his eyes. However it wasn’t for you this time.

The microwave timer pulled you out of your dazed state, you turn back and pulled out the container. The rice had dried out and burned on the edges. You knew it was inedible even before putting it in the microwave, yet you didn’t want to throw it away yet. It was the last of him left. Nonetheless it was unappetizing for anyone. So what’s left now.

You walked to the trash and dropped the container whole, why keep something bad for longer. Pickled plums were never your favorite anyway.

[evolucious]

A Return of Care : Zayne x Reader

For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

pairing : zayne x reader (no gender specific terms are used to describe the reader)

prompt : Zayne is, once again, working past his limits and finds himself sick. With a bit of coaxing he just might take care himself. (aka, zayne is sick but he says "nuh uh")

genre : sfw, fluff, slice of life, zayne please get some sleep, sick fic

word count : 2,976

a/n : oh wow did i finally return after months with another Zayne one shot? I sure did.

The soft chime of the hospital’s automated door echoes in the hallway as you step into the familiar space, your footsteps light against the polished floor. The box of macarons cradled in your arms smells sweet, a gift you picked up on your way over, a small token of appreciation for Zayne. You know how much he loves these, especially after a long day of seeing patients.

As you approach the reception desk, Yvonne, the staff nurse, looks up from her station with a warm smile. She recognizes you instantly—you’re practically a regular here, visiting Zayne for your routine check-ups or just to chat when he has a free moment.

“Hello, Yvonne,” you greet her, returning the smile. “I’m here for my 7:00 PM with Doctor Zayne.”

“Right on time, as usual,” she replies, tapping a few keys on her console. “I’ll page him to let him know you’re here.”

You nod, leaning against the counter as she sends the message. The familiar hum of the station’s systems thrums in the background, a constant reminder of the vastness of space just beyond the walls. You glance around, noting the quietness of the evening shift. The lobby is calm, most patients already seen and gone, leaving behind an air of peacefulness.

Yvonne looks up, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Strange… he’s not responding.”

You raise an eyebrow. Zayne is usually so prompt, always ready to greet you with his warm smile and steady presence. “Maybe he’s in with another patient?”

Yvonne shakes her head, her frown deepening. “His last appointment ended a while ago. But I’m sure he’s just caught up with some paperwork. You can go ahead and see him—he won’t mind.”

You hesitate for a moment, but the familiarity of your relationship with Zayne pushes the doubt aside. “Alright, thanks!”

She waves you off with a reassuring smile, and you make your way down the corridor, the path to Zayne’s office as familiar as your own home. The door to his office is slightly ajar, a sliver of light cutting through the dim hallway. You knock gently, waiting for the usual, cheerful “Come in!” that always follows. But today, there’s only silence. 

Worry knots in your stomach as you push the door open wider. The first thing that hits you is the warmth—the room feels stuffier than usual, almost stifling. As you step inside, the source of your concern becomes all too clear.

Zayne is slumped in his office chair, head tipped back, eyes closed in what looks like a fitful sleep. His usually smooth brow is furrowed, lines of discomfort etched into his features. His skin has a slight sheen to it, and his usually neat appearance is disheveled. A small collection of cough drop wrappers is scattered across his desk, and the wastebasket beside it is filled with used tissues. The sight sends a jolt of worry through you.

“Doctor Zayne?” you call softly, moving closer. When he doesn’t stir, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Zayne?”

His eyes flutter open, and it takes a moment for him to focus on you. When he does, he tries to sit up straighter, “You’re here early,” he rasps, his voice rough and strained.

“I’m right on time, actually,” you reply, concern lacing your words as you take a glance at the clock on the wall beside him. 

Zayne rubs a hand over his face as he clears his throat. “Yes well, please take a seat. Let's get started with your check-up”. He says, swiveling his office chair to drag a stool beside his desk before gesturing for you to sit. 

Before you can protest, he’s already reaching for your chart, fumbling slightly as he tries to pull it out of the stack on his desk. You can see the strain in his movements, the way his hands tremble slightly as he flips through the papers. He’s clearly pushing himself, trying to go through the motions despite his obvious illness.

“Zayne–” you say, your voice soft but firm. Despite being a few feet away from you Zayne carries on as though he didn’t hear you. He pulls out his stethoscope, clearly intent on examining you despite his condition. “Let me just—”

“Zayne, stop.” you plead, gently pushing the stethoscope back down. “You’re always telling me to rest, to take care of myself, but you’re obviously not doing the same. I know you want to work but you’re in no shape to help others right now. Don’t be a hypocrite, Zayne. Please, let me take you home so you can get some rest.”

He hesitates before looking directly at you for the first time this evening, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the strength to argue but there’s a crack in his resolve, a momentary flicker of vulnerability and the weariness in his eyes makes your heart ache.

But then he shakes his head, grasping for excuses. “You must have rode your motorbike here. You cannot bring me home on that.”

“I walked,” you counter, undeterred. “And I even stopped to get macarons on the way.”

His eyes shift toward the box of macarons sitting on his desk, a brief flicker of interest breaking through his exhaustion. Zayne’s sweet tooth is one of the things you’ve always found endearing about him, and you can tell that the mention of his favorite treat has caught his attention.

You smile gently, teasing him just a little. “I was going to give them to you, but I don’t think you should have sugar given your current state.”

His stoic demeanor falters, a slight crack appearing in his resolve. It’s as if the macarons are the final straw, the deciding factor in this small battle of wills. He doesn’t say anything, but the way his shoulders sag and his eyes drop back to the desk tells you he’s given in.

He lets out a weary sigh and murmurs, “Just don’t drive my car the way you drive that bike.”

Your heart lifts with relief, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “No promises,” you let out a soft chuckle, glad to see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

As soon as the apartment door closes behind you, Zayne seems to deflate, all the energy he had left draining away. He heads straight for the sofa, plopping down with a heavy sigh, his head resting against the back cushions. His eyes are half-closed, exhaustion etched into every line of his face.

“You know,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips, “your driving isn’t nearly as reckless as you like to pretend it is.”

You chuckle softly, sitting beside him on the sofa. “Only because I had precious cargo this time.”

He gives a small, appreciative hum, but it quickly dissolves into another cough. You watch him with concern as the fit passes, then reach out to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. His skin is still warm, but the tension in his body seems to have eased a little now that he’s home.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit?” you suggest, your voice gentle. “I’ll make you something warm to drink. Take a shower and we then can eat those macarons together when you’re feeling up to it.”

Zayne opens one eye, peering at you with a look that’s both amused and resigned. “Only if you promise not to hoard them all for yourself.”

You laugh, the sound light and comforting in the quiet of the apartment. “Deal.”

As you rise to head to the kitchen, you glance back at him, knowing that you’ll do everything in your power to make sure he gets better—because, after all, Zayne is worth every bit of care and more.

The space is sleek and modern, with smooth countertops and neatly arranged appliances, but as you stand there, a realization hits you—you have no idea where anything is.

Your eyes scan the cabinets, trying to guess where Zayne might keep the tea. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the handle of a cupboard, unsure if it holds cups, plates, or something entirely unrelated. A small sigh escapes your lips as you inwardly curse your lack of foresight. How hard could it be to find a simple teapot in here?

Just as you’re about to open the wrong cabinet, you hear Zayne’s voice call out from the living room. “Top left, above the stove. Teapot’s in there. Tea’s in the drawer below.”

You freeze for a moment, slightly startled that he’d known exactly what you needed without even seeing you. It’s like he can read your mind—or maybe for some reason he’s just that familiar with how people fumble around in unfamiliar kitchens.

“Thanks!” you call back, relief flooding through you as you follow his instructions.

Sure enough, you find the teapot exactly where he said it would be, and the tea nestled in a drawer below. You set some water to boil, then rummage around for a mug, the task becoming easier now that you know where to look. As the water heats up, you glance back toward the living room, half-expecting Zayne to have dozed off again, but the faint sound of his cough reminds you that he’s still awake, though probably exhausted.

When the tea is ready, you carefully carry the steaming mug back to the living room. Zayne’s eyes open as you approach, a tired but grateful smile tugging at his lips. You hand him the mug, and he takes it with a murmured “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Zayne,” you reply with a mock-serious tone, sitting down beside him on the sofa. “Though I should let you know, I’m your attending physician now. I’ve learned from the very best as an intern, after all.”

Zayne arches an eyebrow at, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Oh? And what does this new ‘attending physician’ believe is the diagnosis?”

You adopt a serious expression, holding out your hand as if it were a clipboard. “Let’s see…” you say, pretending to write on your palm. “The diagnosis is… one very stubborn doctor who refuses to rest when he’s sick.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a sip of the tea. “I see. And what do you prescribe, Doctor?”

“I prescribe– a warm shower, cozy pajamas, and a strict order of rest. No exceptions.” you say firmly, finishing your fake note. 

Zayne’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he looks at you over the rim of the mug. “Sounds like a pretty detailed prescription. Are you sure it’s not too advanced for me?”

“Well,” you say, tapping your chin thoughtfully, “it’s a tough regimen, but I think you’ll manage. And if you don’t follow it, I might have to put you on an even stricter bedrest.”

Zayne chuckles again, the sound warm despite his rough voice. “You’re really getting into character, aren’t you?”

“Only because I had an excellent mentor,” you tease, giving him a playful nudge. “But seriously, Zayne– no more pushing yourself.”

For a moment, the teasing air between you fades, replaced by something softer, more earnest. Zayne looks at you, and though he doesn’t say anything, you can see the appreciation in his eyes. He knows you’re right, and even though he’s always been the one to take care of you, he’s beginning to let himself lean on you now.

There’s a vulnerability in his posture that tugs at your heartstrings, and without thinking, you reach out and gently place your hand on his forehead. His skin is warm beneath your touch, confirming what you already knew—he’s running a low fever.

Your hand drifts from his forehead to his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. “Zayne,” you murmur, your voice filled with concern, “I don’t like that you let yourself get like this”

Zayne’s eyes remain closed, but he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your hand in a gesture that’s both tender and weary. He lets out a low, affirming hum, a sound that’s as much a comfort to you as it is to him. For a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift from his shoulders, and he’s just Zayne—your Zayne—who’s finally allowing himself to be cared for.

After a moment, he reaches up and takes your hand from his cheek, holding it gently as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes remain focused on your hand as he speaks, his voice soft but resolute. 

“Alright Doctor, I’ll follow your orders.”  he says, his tone carrying the weight of sincerity. “I promise.”

You smile at his words, knowing he means them, but also knowing that it might take some gentle reminders to make sure he follows through. “Good,” you whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all I ask.” 

“Now, go take that shower. I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you when you’re done.” Zayne nods, setting the mug down on the coffee table before rising from the sofa. As he heads toward the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. It’s a role reversal, but one that feels right. Zayne has always been there for you, and now, it’s your turn to return the favor, even if it means coaxing him into taking care of himself with a bit of playful banter.

As the sound of the shower starts up, you settle back on the sofa, feeling content in the knowledge that Zayne is finally letting himself rest—and that you’re the one making sure he does.

After opening the window to let some fresh air into the apartment, you stand there for a moment, debating whether you should stay and make sure Zayne gets to bed. The idea of leaving him alone doesn’t sit well with you, but something tells you that he’ll be alright. He’s taken care of you so many times before—maybe it’s time to trust that he can do the same for himself.

Your gaze drifts to the box of macarons on the coffee table. A small smile tugs at your lips as you pick up the box, thinking about how something so simple could bring him a moment of joy even when he’s feeling so run down. You can’t resist leaving a little surprise for him, so you carefully take out one macaron and place it on the kitchen counter where he’ll easily find it when he emerges from his shower.

With the rest of the macarons in hand, you head toward the door, glancing back at the closed bathroom door one last time. The sound of running water is still steady as you slip out of the apartment, closing the door gently behind you. Your steps are light as you make your way down the hallway and you can’t help but wonder if Zayne has felt this way each time he’s cared for you—leaving quietly after making sure you were settled in, with a warm heart and a lingering sense of connection.

The cool night air greets you as you step outside, and you breathe in deeply, feeling refreshed and content. The box of macarons in your hand is a small reminder of the connection you share with Zayne, and the thought of him finding the one you left behind brings a smile to your face.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of your alarm buzzing beside your bed. You groan softly, rolling over in your sheets as you burrow deeper into their warmth, reluctant to leave the comfort they offer. You’d been so exhausted when you got home that you fell asleep almost immediately, and now, the weight of that sleep is still heavy on you.

For a moment, you lie there, savoring the last remnants of drowsiness before you start your day. It’s your morning ritual—waking slowly, checking your notifications, and letting the world come into focus at your own pace.

You reach for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and bringing it close as you scroll through the usual morning updates. Emails, a few messages, and then one that makes you pause. It’s from Zayne, sent last night after you’d already gone to bed.

With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, you open the message, feeling a small flutter in your chest as you wonder what he might have said.

The message from Zayne opens with a photo of the single macaron you left on his kitchen counter. Beneath the image is a teasing caption: “Is this how I’m rewarded for following doctor's orders?"

You can’t help but laugh softly as you read his message, imagining the expression that must have accompanied the text. You quickly type out a reply, your fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

“You know, most doctors give their patients one sticker on the way out for being good sports. What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t give you a reward?", a smirk playing on your lips as you hit send.

It doesn’t take long for his response to come through. "Touché. When can I schedule my next routine checkup? Maybe I can earn some more."

You grin at the thought, leaning back against your pillow, you type your reply.

"I’ll have to check my schedule, I’m suuuuuuuper busy Doctor." 

With that, you set your phone aside and stretch, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. Zayne’s message, as playful as it was, reassures you that he’s okay—and that he’s starting his recovery with a bit of lightheartedness, thanks to you.

It’s a good start to the day, and as you finally roll out of bed, you can’t help but feel a quiet satisfaction knowing that, this time, you were the one who got to take care of him

{pls dont repost i beg}

[mischiefandlies]

Bloody shopping trips...

Masterlist Not so much Loki x Reader as Loki and Thor are imbeciles.

Notes: My best friend is Jamacian and she said she couldn't always understand people with thick English accents, and it got me thinking... yh, anyways. Reader has periods, enjoy.

Warnings: none??? I think??

You had been feeling bloody awful recently, your cramps were bloody horrible, and being away from the tower and back home in London, you hadn't got anything in your flat. So, you had sent Loki on a very basic mission; to find you some pads. Thrilling endeavour. It was by sheer misfortune that Thor had decided to tag along, seeming to have misinterpreted your word mission as an actual mission and not a trip to the shops. And so, it was with a heavy heart and an insufferable fool by his side that Loki made his way to the shops.

"I do not like the automated doors brother." Thor says as they walk in. "How am I to know who is opening them?"

Lord above it's going to be a long day… "They're automated Thor. No one is opening them."

"Ah! I see. See, these electronics are ever so complicated brother. Why, t'was only the other day Stark was informing me of the complexities of el-ekt-ro-mig-na-tismsm, the human magic that keeps his suit together….." Loki's tuned out at this point. Blessed norns, Thor couldn't shut up if you sewed his lips together. It's the most irritating ailment to have while trying to get around the shops. He manages to shut up for long enough that Loki finds one of the employees.

"Excuse me miss-" He says, gently tapping the lady on the shoulder. Come on, you were at home waiting, and he couldn't bare to leave you home alone, not when he knew you were in pain.

The lady turned around- well, lady would be a stretch. The girl was barely out of her teens, with violently yellow badly bleached hair, and skin as orange as- what was his name? Some fool in a white house who Steve had been complaining about for his "anti-american-ness". Either way, she had much the same skin tone, with eyebrows that looked like a black slug had plonked itself above her eyes and left an imprint. Regardless, he just smiled politely and asked "you wouldn't happen to know where the female sanitary items are?"

Loki didn't think it would be possible for her to look any more disdainfully at the two brothers. She turns to face him, pulls out two white pieces of plastic from her ears- you told Loki that they were for people to listen to music on the go, which he found absurd, but then he could just tune things out with his magic -and addresses them. "Wot d’you want tho, coz I was literally just standin’ here."

Well, that's umm… something not covered by Allspeak. He glances back at Thor, who is currently halfway through a baguette, and going to be of absolutely no use when dealing with- wait. They haven't paid for that. He swipes it out of his brother's hands, leaving the blond completely confused. "Thor! You can't do that on Midgard. They require payment."

He just rolls his eyes, like the whole thing is obvious. "I know that brother, I was merely snacking- these french batons are an excellent food source, and Miss Pots told me many times one should never go shopping on an empty stomach."

"Miss Pots has access to Tony's credit card, and does not shop in 'Lidl', so please refrain from your munching." Loki snapped back.

"Na, it's fine innit."

Both brothers whip around to spot the speaker. It was the shop assistant from before. It's Thor who speaks to her this time though, perhaps he's have a better chance at a reasonable response. "I beg your pardon?"

She manages to pipe up again, in something recognisably English but also an absolute linguistic phenomena. “Oh my god yeah no bruv, one even cares if you nick it ‘cause like the security is well dodgy innit, and the cameras don’t even work, yeah, like literally I nick stuff all the time — like the other day I got a whole meal deal and a fake tan and no one even said nuffin’. An' I only got caught once cuz this well leng mans was chattin' wi me and 'e said if you go out back door it don't count cuz alla drivers go out there to have a fag an' smoke pot, so they don't check the camera.”

The two of them have to take a minute to recover from the astounding poetry that is the English language, but Loki shakes it off the first, and again tries to locate your necessary shopping. "Right. Well, I'm looking for something I'm actually intending to pay for. Would you happen to know where the feminine sanitary products are?"

It seems there's a language barrier. "A wot?"

"Feminine hygiene products?"

"A woT?"

"Umm… menstrual products?"

"A WOT?"

"Sweet norns…" Loki tries once more, now slowly reaching the end of his rope. "A pad, for a woman while she goes through menstruation. You know, bleeding from the vagina?"

"Ohhh, say less fam, say less." It seems they've gotten through to her. Finally…. "It’s over there, on the left, yeah but like you could’ve looked bruv."

"Thank you." Honestly, it's like pulling teeth… the two brothers find their way to the aisle for period products. Loki scours the shelves for the kind you normally have, while Thor trails behind, baguette in hand, happily munching. Unfortunately, he finishes the baguette before Loki has found the required packet, and manages to make himself a complete waste of air. "Brother… your lady love is… bleeding?"

"Yes Thor. Happens every mooncycle."

"… will she live?"

Exasperated doesn't cover it. "Of all Yggdrasil's root's Thor, and I have to be stuck with you and your-" the chaos God is cut off (rather abruptly) by the sight of his brother holding back tears. Uggghhhh… everything has to be so bloody complicated, doesn't it. "No, Thor, she will live. She is merely going through a human phase of menstruation. She is not present only because it causes abdominal cramps and mild suffering from unpredictable pain."

Thor, seems mildly pacified by this and probes again, wiping the tears from his eyes and taking a big sniff. "Brother, what is this mens-tutu-ation you speak of? I have heard no such thing."

Perhaps there's a better way to word in than the way Loki actually does, but nonetheless… "Tis merely a state female Midgardians are in once a month wherein their internal organs responsible for procreating disintegrate and must exit the body via the vaginal hole."

Thor (understandably, when faced with the words "organ" and "disintegrate") panics. "So she IS dying?!"

You'd've thought Jane might've educated him, but clearly they weren't together long enough… Loki hisses back, unwilling to make a scene in the middle of this 'Lidl'. The last thing he wants is the lady buying milk in her pyjamas to start judging him. "No, Thor! It's only because she's not pregnant. Her body has spent time preparing things for the baby that must now go to waste because she is not pregnant."

Thor appears, once again, to have found himself deserted of all brain cells. "Well why did you not get her pregnant?"

"What?"

"Why did you not get her pregnant?" He reiterates. "Loki, you should not let her body's preparations go to waste. If I were to hear my love we're aching every mooncycle for a child, he body becoming ready each time for a mans seed to take root, surely I would've given her one by now, else her body may decide not to bother when the time truly does come, and then you would be stuck…….."

Loki appears too floored by the weird, dystopian logic his brother presents, and to be honest, arguing with Thor is much the same as arguing with a toddler- a waste of fucking time. Tuning him out is much easier, and he has had years to practice the art. He finally finds the shelf with your pads and walks off, letting Thor prattle about the intricacies of pregnancy behind him. He walks up to the tills, ready to pay, when he realises he recognises the cashier. Shit. "Thor, turn around."

"Why?"

"Thor, just turn-"

Unfortunately, it was too late. "Yuol rai'?"

What in Odin's beard… "I'm sorry?"

"A sai' yuol raight?"

"We are most excellent, thank you Lady!" Thor's voice boomed out, as he smiles towards the (still violently orange) cashier. Blessed Norns, this was NOT ideal. "We are merely in need of assistance purchasing these anti-mestututtuaion products."

"…Right. Innit." She looks about as confused as Loki, who has to actively restrain himself from slamming the pads on the counter. She puts it all through the till and looks up at him expectantly.

"And a baguette." he adds, shooting Thor a dirty look.

"Ah, just gis the bag, I'll stow it. Anyfing for the well leng one." she says. Not entirely certain of what she plans on doing, Thor hands over the bag, which she promptly stashes in the gap between the tills, before looking up at Thor, biting her lip. It might be seductive if it wasn't nauseating. "Ain't you the one wot crashed inno a buildin' or summit on telly?"

Thor, having met fans of his before (usually screaming boys that wanted him to pick them up and fly- Loki was always loathe to be there when it happened) perks up at the recognition. "Ah! Yes, you would be correct, I did indeed crash into a building multiple times. Why do you ask?"

"An' mans got no fucking scratches or nuffing from scrapping innit. My guy…" she says, eyeing him. Ogling doesn't cover it, she was practically undressing him with her eyes. Loki could barely watch for gagging, though Thor (being Thor) was blissfully unaware so it seemed.

He picked up the bag and left them to it, the whole thing getting irritating, though he could hear something in the background about "hammers" and "Peng ting". He was going home, with or without them, to you, his love, who actually needed him and could probably explain whatever the fuck had just happened. He would be damned to see you alone and in pain any longer than strictly necessary. His beautiful mortal was alone bleeding and wounded by her own biology, and damn straight he was going to get back and help you. Knowing you you'd completely ignored his instructions to stay in bed. Maybe a hot water bottle and a bath for you… or he could make you a cuppa and you two could just curl up together… or perhaps, if you'd let him, he might try and magic your pain away, though the spells he'd been looking into were still rather complex…

Thor (unfortunately) caught up with him halfway back to yours.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 66

First / Previous / Next

By now, Fen was getting rather tired of waking up in strange locations with intense pain all through her body.

She didn't even bother sitting up in shocked surprised. She wearily opened her eyes and stared at the paneled ceiling for a few minutes. Her body felt like she had a sunburn all over. It stung and ached and felt hot and hurt. She just hurt.

Fen sighed and sat up on her elbows and looked around. She was in a stateroom - on a ship probably; if she had to guess it's was Gord's ship - laying on a bed. She looked down at herself and - oh. Her entire body was bright red, like she had a burn. That explains the sting at least. Next to the bed was a side table with a bottle of water and a aloe dispenser.

"Hey, is anybody home? Nanites? Vel? Han'iel's Nanites?" She thought. No reply. Best not to worry about it now. Fen finished sitting up and applied the aloe to all of her exposed skin. She felt more slippery but it didn't really stop the pain. After the aloe had dried, she got up and tried walking around the room. It was small and spartan, but clean. Just as she was about to step out and explore more, the door opened and Chloe stepped in.

Fen started and took a step back. Chloe's tall body, long hair and severe look was intimidating, but in the back of her mind, Fen had noticed that when she was Empress it didn't bother her as much. She wondered if the Nanites - in addition to giving her vocal language and body language skills - had given her some kind of boost in confidence as well. "Fen, you're awake." It wasn't a question.

"Uh, yes Chloe... how long has it been?"

"About eight standard hours since Gord brought you onboard."

"About that," Fen looked around the room. "Where am I? I'm not on my yacht."

"That is correct. You're onboard our ship. When it's automated it's called Birches."

Fen sat on the bed. She was still very tired. "That's an unusual name."

Chloe shrugged. "Gord picked it. It was some kind of tree I think. Are you well enough to move around? Gord thinks you should have some food. He's cooking dinner in the canteen."

"Gord can cook?" Fen didn't mean to sound so surprised, but it slipped out. It did make Chloe smirk though.

"I'm told Gord is an excellent cook... so long as you stick to the foods he's skilled at preparing. Remember, he's the oldest one of us, he's had time to practice." Chloe extended her hand to Fen to help her up.

Warily, Fen took her hand. It was so warm! Chloe's persona is one of cold detachment so Fen had kind of thought that her body would be cold as well. With her help, Fen made it down the hall of the small ship to the canteen.

As they approached, a sweet smell emanated from the canteen, with a smoky undertone. It smelled familiar to Fen and when she opened the door, she saw Gord at the stove, fussing over some bacon. He turned and waved. "Fen! Glad you could join us. The bacon is nearly ready and the waffles are keeping warm in the oven. I have coffee too if you'd like."

Fen hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled the food cooking. She sat at the table and Gord brought over a large plate of food and a mug of coffee. Next to it was a small squeeze bottle of maple syrup. "The real stuff too! I do have standards after all." Gord said, laughing.

It was delicious. Fen wasn't sure if it was the food, or her recent trauma, or everything all together, but she was sure she hadn't had a meal this good in decades. "Gord, this is amazing, where did you get it? I didn't think AIs ate. Why would you have bacon?"

Gord sat down across from her with a plate of his own food. Chloe sat as well, but only had a cup of coffee. "We don't have to eat, but many of us choose to. We might be our own people and have our own traditions, but we were built by humans first and have quite a few human traits. Many of us have taste receptors, so why not use them? It's less efficient of a source of energy than a mini reactor, but we can still turn the food into energy, kilocalories and kilocalories after all. Besides, the bacon is artificial and stores well, and the waffle mix is powdered. Kept sealed and away from air, it lasts a long time."

Fen was barely listening. She was too occupied eating.

After breakfast, Fen offered to clear the table, but Gord wouldn't hear of it. "You're our guest Fen, please allow me." Chloe got up with him, and they both loaded the dishwasher and cleaned the surfaces while Fen sat and nursed her second coffee. After they had finished cleaning they sat back down. "Fen." Gord said. "The K'laxi nanites fought the Builder Nanites in your body.

"Yes, I know. While I was under the three of us... had a discussion."

"Did you?" Gord raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. Well, let's hear it from your side then. What did you learn?"

Fen told Gord and Chloe about their discussion and how long the K'laxi nanites had been active as well as their reaction to her original Builder nanites. "I took the neck snapping to mean that they had succeeded in defeating them, and since I'm still alive I assume that means you and Chloe were able to save my physical body too." Fen took a sip of coffee as she finished.

Gord looked at Chloe, who nodded. "Tell her, Gord."

Fen's blood ran with ice at that. "Tell me what?"

"Aw jeez." Gord leaned forward and rubbed his hand on his forehead. "I was hoping to wait a bit until you got your strength back before bringing it up."

"Bring what up, Gord?" Fen's face was trying at the same time to look intimidating but also hiding how frightened she is.

Then, Fen was in a room. This one was stark white, with bright overhead lights and machinery crowding one corner. Indicator lights blinked and bits of equipment beeped happily at other bits. Sticking out of the center of the machinery about a meter was a long oblong sphere, like a lozenge. It was... different than the other equipment. Where the machinery seemed thrown together and ad-hoc, this was much more... weighty. Smooth corners, thick walls, it was clearly something meant to last a long time.

It's a hibernation cabinet.

Fen walked over to the cabinet, shakily. When she touched the top, it felt cold, like the insulation of the cabinet was holding back a terrible chill. Set into the top was a small, clear, thick window. She knew what was going to be in there, but she had to look. She had to. She got on her tiptoes and looked inside.

Fenchurch Whitehorse, Empress of Humanity (former) was inside; her eyes shut, her hair shaved, and fully half her skull covered in electrodes and wires. Dried blood was around her lips, nose, and ears. As if to drive the point home, a rime of frost framed her face. She looked so tired.

"I'm sorry Fen." Gord and Chloe appeared behind her. "When you were told that removing the nanites was most likely fatal, you were right. When I tried with the anti-nanite gas back on Home a couple of years ago, I wasn't sure if it would work - or if you'd survive. For what it's worth, I'm glad it didn't work and you and Zhe didn't die then." Gord said, softly.

"I-I-if I'm in there," she pointed. "Then how am I here?"

"Fen, we're experts in minds." Chloe said. "Human brains are different from AI brains, but only slightly different. You're running on... outboard processing."

"Outboard processing?"

"Er, I assume you noticed the wires? We're running you in most of the machinery around the hibernation cabinet. We need your body to do it, but mostly as a bootstrapper. Ninety percent of you is in the machinery."

Fen's legs felt rubbery. She put her hand back to steady herself, and... sat heavily into the couch in her apartment. Gord and Chloe looked around. "This is your old place." Gord said, with a touch of surprise. "You know, it usually takes a while for humans to be able to do that."

"Except when they're on the verge of a panic attack and start jumping around to places of comfort." Chloe said, glaring at Gord. "I told you she wasn't going to like it."

"You also said to tell her." Gord pointed out.

"Just because I said to tell her doesn't mean you had to show her the cabinet. It must be frightening for a human to see themselves like that."

"Probably, though I've known a few in my day that would have moved Heaven and Earth to be running like Fen is now."

"Gord." Fen said quietly.

"There you go again, Gord, bringing up things that happened thousands of years ago. I swear you do it just to win any conversation. 'On a long enough timeline' bullshit." Chloe was fully ignoring Fen now.

"Gord." Fen said, louder.

"Don't even give me that Chloe, you're nearly as old as I am. You were a Starjumper before the wormhole generators same as me, and you even got to see my hometo-"

"GORD!" Fen's voice cracked as she shouted.

"Oh, sorry Fen, what's up?" Gord had the decency to look sheepish.

"What happens now?"

"The hibernation cabinet has slowed - though not stopped - the nanomachine war in your body. We did it to buy time, to try and figure out what to do before you died of heatstroke, or were accidentally consumed in their need for mass and energy." Chloe said, sitting across from Fen, "That worked, but it's only bought time. We still need to figure out what to do about them - or if one of them wins - what to do about the winner."

Gord sighed and sat in the other chair next to Chloe - Ma-ren's chair. "There's also the matter about your implant."

"My implant?" Fen sat up straighter and her eyes went wide. "I don't have an implant."

Chloe and Gord shared a look that went over Fen's head. "You do, Fen. It looks freshly installed."

"Careful not to pull your stitches" Han'iel said when he woke her up when she was strapped to the table. So that's what he meant.

"What kind of implant is it?"

Another cryptic look between Gord and Chloe. Now that she knew where she was, Fen could have sworn that there was a sensation of energy passing between them. Maybe they were having a private conversation.

"Fen" Chloe's face was surprisingly soft. The intimidating stare was gone. She reached out and patted Fen's hand. "That's the other reason you're in hibernation. It's an antimatter bomb."

Fen stood up so quickly the coffee table flipped over. "We have to link somewhere! Anywhere! I need to talk to Ma!"

[torillatavataan]

Linux creator Linus Torvalds wrote:

"Ok, lots of Russian trolls out and about. It's entirely clear why the change was done, it's not getting reverted, and using multiple random anonymous accounts to try to "grass root" it by Russian troll factories isn't going to change anything. And FYI for the actual innocent bystanders who aren't troll farm accounts - the "various compliance requirements" are not just a US thing. If you haven't heard of Russian sanctions yet, you should try to read the news some day. And by "news", I don't mean Russian state-sponsored spam. As to sending me a revert patch - please use whatever mush you call brains. I'm Finnish. Did you think I'd be *supporting* Russian aggression? Apparently it's not just lack of real news, it's lack of history knowledge too."

What is Linux?

Linux is a family of open-source Unix-like operating systems based on the Linux kernel, an operating system kernel first released on September 17, 1991, by Linus Torvalds.

Linux was originally developed for personal computers based on the Intel x86 architecture, but has since been ported to more platforms than any other operating system. Because of the dominance of Linux-based Android on smartphones, Linux, including Android, has the largest installed base of all general-purpose operating systems as of May 2022.

Linux is the leading operating system on servers (over 96.4% of the top one million web servers' operating systems are Linux) leads other big iron systems such as mainframe computers, and is used on all of the world's 500 fastest supercomputers (as of November 2017, having gradually displaced all competitors).

Linux also runs on embedded systems, i.e., devices whose operating system is typically built into the firmware and is highly tailored to the system. This includes routers, automation controls, smart home devices, video game consoles, televisions (Samsung and LG smart TVs), automobiles (Tesla, Audi, Mercedes-Benz, Hyundai, and Toyota), and spacecraft (Falcon 9 rocket, Dragon crew capsule, and the Perseverance rover).

[localishweatherman]

Today (3/15/25) and tomorrow's (3/16/25) convective outlooks via the Storm Prediction Center

What to do During a Tornado (via NWS):

Stay Weather-Ready: Continue to listen to local news or a NOAA Weather Radio to stay updated about tornado watches and warnings.

At Your House: If you are in a tornado warning, go to your basement, safe room, or an interior room away from windows. Don't forget pets if time allows.

At Your Workplace or School: Follow your tornado drill and proceed to your tornado shelter location quickly and calmly. Stay away from windows and do not go to large open rooms such as cafeterias, gymnasiums, or auditoriums.

Outside: Seek shelter inside a sturdy building immediately if a tornado is approaching. Sheds and storage facilities are not safe. Neither is a mobile home or tent.  If you have time, get to a safe building.

In a vehicle: Being in a vehicle during a tornado is not safe. The best course of action is to drive to the closest shelter. If you are unable to make it to a safe shelter, either get down in your car and cover your head, or abandon your car and seek shelter in a low lying area such as a ditch or ravine.

Tips on staying weather aware, it's important to have access to several weather sources.

Check the SPC for updates!

Find your closest NWS Forecast Office via zip code on weather.gov

Keep an eye on the local news and local weather reports

Consider getting a weather radio! (info here from NWS) This is good for if you lose power/internet as you can check the automated radio stations near you

Check the radar either via an app like radarscope or online with websites like radar.weather.gov or wunderground.com

Ryan Hall Y'all is a youtube channel that livestreams during most severe weather outbreaks

In addition, OK and TX have high weather risk today (3/15/25) via the SPC again from their fire weather outlook.

NWS Fire Weather Updates

Fire and Smoke Map: Airnow.gov

CDC: Preparing for Wildfires

Ready.gov: Prepare for Wildfires

Airnow.gov: Prepare for Wildfires

[thelongestway]

Had to edit a bit of detail in the previous chapters, because what I was going for with the extra hostile didn't quite work the way I wanted it to.

But honestly, that's not too important, because that's a minor detail, and I'm a lot more excited by the bigger ones I got to do here. So without further ado...

Chapter 38: Shadow

For a moment, I forgot that Iceblink wasn't a construct, and I sent her a Query: revival halt? at the same time as I released my diagnostics into the systems around Tal's pod. But she understood, and returned a 55 seconds! at just about the same time as I had data on the imminent pod failure.

Hostile Four's shot took out two critical power lines. If I could reconnect them, or plug in another power source in that time frame, the emergency revival procedure would be stopped. The problem was that after all the destruction, I couldn't see a viable power source anywhere in the vicinity. Except one.

Except me.

Iceblink, your priority is to evade hostiles until Hiram arrives, I said as I skidded a sharp turn into the cold sleep room. The only good thing about the emergency revival protocols was that I didn't have to bust down the door.

But Tal--

I've got kem, and I did. I had a full thirty seconds to open my energy weapon ports, and I'd done it in ten before. I was just glad it was two dead power lines and not three or four, so I didn't have to cut open my legs, which did not have energy weapons for easy access, and spread out across across the cold sleep box like the world's most fucked up starfish. (Thanks for that stupid fauna name, Sargasso.) But I did have to kneel behind the cold sleep pod with my arms connected into it, like I was carrying the dead tech.

Except I wasn't carrying kem anywhere. My movement radius would be restricted by the patch cord. All I'd have to support Iceblink were the cameras. And she had at least five hostiles to deal with, while Hiram's team was still an entire twelve minutes away.

Tal's chronostasis pod bit into me and I felt my muscles go weak and my processes become fuzzy. Performance reliability immediately dropped 15 percent, because that cold sleep box devoured power like a ravenous improbable worm devoured terrain on its way to a succulent client. I fought to optimize the drain and make sure my power cells lasted longer, so I missed an automated piece of system activating, and it unhelpfully and loudly announced POWER RESTORED. EMERGENCY REVIVAL HALTED to everyone in the area.

Hostile Leader took cover in a feed-cut lab, where Iceblink couldn't reach, and yelled, "What? How?", while looking up at the ceiling like she was still talking to an AI.

Wouldn't you like to know, you piece of rot. SecUnit, I'm going to try luring them to the lab directional EMP's, Iceblink said, and I saw her connecting to the Courageous' speakers.

Risk assessment told me that if she attracted their attention, then she was most likely dead. But these were her home systems, and if anyone knew how to use the terrain here, it would be her.

I gave Iceblink an approving ping and let her take the speakers.

"Congratulations, you fucking assholes, you just blew some power lines for a memorial to the Courageous' Emergency Crew," Iceblink said in a caustic fake voice. She was managing to pretend Tal was less important to her than ke was. (I knew why. Because that was private. The hostiles didn't get to have it.) "That chronostasis pod has been in operation for like one hundred years, so now we're extra pissed. Seriously, stand down. Last chance."

As Iceblink did that, Hostile Hacker tried to trace her access point. She slipped him a fake feed trail leading well away from her position, and he took the bait.

Hostile Point barrelled into the same safe room Hostile Leader was in and yelled, "Marten one, I don't think they're doing voices."

"I can hear that!" Hostile Leader snapped back. "Three, cut the cameras!"

"Nope," Iceblink said. "Screw you. We let you have those before to lure you in. Now you're done taking them."

"Damned bastards," Hostile Hacker snarled angrily, but I saw him quietly send the fake location to Hostile Leader. "They're good."

"And they wouldn't be talking to us and collapsing their own infrastructure if their friends were here." Hostile Leader said in her dead calm voice. "Four, Six, Seven, with me. Sweep the rings. Those fucking hackers are our ticket out."

Oh rot, she's calling in her backup group, Iceblink said quietly. Let's see how lucky we are.

We weren't. I processed the cameras and saw that while Hostile Leader and Hostile Four were moving towards the fake access point and a set of EMP's, Hostile Six and Hostile Seven emerged into visual range way too close to Iceblink and were moving exactly the wrong direction for her to get behind them. I sent Iceblink their positions and began calculating an exit route.

There wasn't a good one.

Iceblink lowered her trembling voice to a whisper. Can't move. They're too close.

She was right. We were going to have to hope they missed her as they passed by.

Through the cameras closest to Hostile Six and Seven, I heard characteristic whistles, and then explosions. Some of the screens went white, then came back online again. Flashbangs.

They're going to try to flush you out, I said. Take cover and don't move when the explosion comes. And don't talk. Not a sound. I'll tell you when they're gone.

Iceblink sent me an "understood" ping, and hunkered down behind a piece of furniture, covering her head and shivering. I checked the cameras to make sure she picked a good hiding place (she did) and sent her an approving tap.

We had no other choice, but I had a very, very bad feeling about this. Humans weren't good at staying still when there were explosions going off around them, so there was an eighty percent chance this was going to turn into the exact kind of very shitty hostage situation Hiram's team wasn't trained for. The twenty percent were more than I usually gave for this sort of thing. Because maybe, just maybe, Iceblink played Tal's shitty hacker game enough to sit still when there were real hostiles hunting for her and not just people going about their day, and to stay quiet even when there were grenades going off around her. Maybe it would be enough to beat the odds.

I didn't think it would. But I really hoped my analytics were wrong right now.

My internal diagnostics threw a warning, and I realized the pod had eaten through about twenty percent of my available power reserves already, and that my performance reliability was at 70 percent. At this rate, it would leave me dry long before help could come. And running out of power mid-combat scenario because you fed all of it to a dead person would be such a fucking stupid way to go into an emergency shutdown.

Through the patch cord, I told the dead tech: Stop sucking so much, you stupid dead idiot!

(Yeah. I know that sounded stupid. I just needed some way to flush the stress chemicals quicker, because together with the power drain wooziness they really weren't helping, and according to Bharadwaj, expressing your emotions helped with that. And since Tal was supposed to be a good rubber ducky, maybe ke'd be good at stress chemicals, too. So I watched the hostiles slowly moving closer to Iceblink, which I couldn't do anything about except track their positions and keep Hiram updated, and kept talking to one fucked up dead human in a box.)

Platonically. Literally. Whatever. You're eating the processing power I need to give Iceblink and Hiram data, and they need that data so they don't die! So either suck less, or get up from your fucking cold sleep box and help us!

And look. Tal was dead. I wasn't expecting anything to happen. I was just trying to squeeze maybe one percent more processing power out of my shitty organic parts and their stupid chemicals.

But after about five seconds of silence two things happened, mostly at the same time. (Which obviously had nothing to do with me talking to a stupid dead hacker. I knew that.)

First, ART suddenly gave me about 10 percent of its processing power. Which meant it now had the resources to follow up on us and saw I needed help. I could suddenly think at full capacity again, even through the power drain.

And second, something weak and flickering slithered into the ring feed, pushing itself through every single insignificant link it could find just to gain a little more access to the airgapped area. It latched onto Iceblink with her barely-connected terminal, Tal's power lines, my outputs, and the myriad broken, mostly autonomous systems with threadbare patches between them and bone-thin connections that I'd thought were too small to support anything useful.

I was very wrong.

What crawled in on razor-sharp leaves was much smaller than I remembered, and bled so much dizziness, disorientation, and terror that I didn't know how it still had any performance reliability remaining, much less how that performance reliability was steadily and slowly rising as it coalesced in the CR3 feed. But when Aspen turned to me with a barely coherent Query: Status?, I knew exactly what helped them keep it together.

It was the coldest, sharpest intent to kill I'd ever felt in my life.

[justforbooks]

Source Code: My Beginnings by Bill Gates

In contrast to the current crop of swaggering tech bros, the Microsoft founder comes across as wry and self-deprecating in this memoir of starting out

Bill Gates is the John McEnroe of the tech world: once a snotty brat whom everyone loved to hate, now grown up into a beloved elder statesman. Former rivals, most notably Apple’s Steve Jobs, have since departed this dimension, while the Gates Foundation, focusing on unsexy but important technologies such as malaria nets, was doing “effective altruism” long before that became a fashionable term among philosophically minded tech bros. Time, then, to look back. In the first of what the author threatens will be a trilogy of memoirs, Gates recounts the first two decades of his life, from his birth in 1955 to the founding of Microsoft and its agreement to supply a version of the Basic programming language to Apple Computer in 1977.

He grows up in a pleasant suburb of Seattle with a lawyer father and a schoolteacher mother. His intellectual development is keyed to an origin scene in which he is fascinated by his grandmother’s skill at card games around the family dining table. The eight-year-old Gates realises that gin rummy and sevens are systems of dynamic data that the player can learn to manipulate.

As he tells it, Gates was a rather disruptive schoolchild, always playing the smart alec and not wanting to try too hard, until he first learned to use a computer terminal under the guidance of an influential maths teacher named Bill Dougall. (I wanted to learn more about this man than Gates supplies in a still extraordinary thumbnail sketch: “He had been a World War II Navy pilot and worked as an aeronautical engineer at Boeing. Somewhere along the way he earned a degree in French Literature from the Sorbonne in Paris on top of graduate degrees in engineering and education.”) Ah, the computer terminal. It is 1968, so the school terminal communicates with a mainframe elsewhere. Soon enough, the 13-year-old Gates has taught it to play noughts and crosses. He is hooked. He befriends another pupil, Paul Allen – who will later introduce him to alcohol and LSD – and together they pore over programming manuals deep into the night. Gates plans a vast simulation war game, but he and his friends get their first taste of writing actually useful software when they are asked to automate class scheduling after their school merges with another. Success with this leads the children, now calling themselves the Lakeside Programming Group, to write a payroll program for local businesses, and later to create software for traffic engineers.

There follows a smooth transition to Harvard, where in the ferment of anti-war campus protests our hero is more interested in the arrival, one day in 1969, of a PDP-10 computer. Gates takes classes in maths but also chemistry and the Greek classics. Realising he doesn’t have it in him to become a pure mathematician, he goes all-in on computers once a new home machine, the Altair, is announced. He and Paul Allen will write its Basic, having decided to call themselves “Micro-Soft”.

The early home computer scene, Gates notes, was a countercultural, hippy thing: cheap computers “represented a triumph of the masses against the monolithic corporations and establishment forces that controlled access to computing”, and so software was widely “shared”, or copied among people for free. It was Gates himself who, notoriously, pushed back against this culture when he found out most users of his Basic weren’t paying for it. By “stealing software”, he wrote in an open letter in 1976, “you prevent good software from being written. Who can afford to do professional work for nothing?” This rubbed a lot of people up the wrong way and still does, at least in the more militant parts of the “open-source” world. But he had a point. And that, readers, is why your Office 365 account just renewed for another year. Fans of Word and Excel, though, will have to wait for subsequent volumes of Gates’s recollections, as will those who want more about his later battles with Apple, though Steve Jobs does get an amusing walk-on part. (Micro-Soft’s general manager keeps a notebook of sales calls, on one page of which we read: “11.15 Steve Jobs calls. Was very rude.”). This volume, still, is more than just a geek’s inventory of early achievements. There is a genuine gratitude for influential mentors, and a wry mood of self-deprecation throughout. Gates gleefully records his first preschool report: “He seemed determined to impress us with his complete lack of concern for any phase of school life.” Later, he explains how he acquired a sudden interest in theatre classes. “Admittedly the main draw for me was the higher percentage of girls in drama. And since the main activity in the class was to read lines to each other, the odds were very good that I’d actually talk to one.” Strikingly, unlike most “self-made” billionaires, Gates emphasises the “unearned privilege” of his upbringing and the peculiar circumstances – “mostly out of my control” – that enabled his career. Adorably, he even admits to still having panic dreams about his university exams. The book’s most touching pages recount how one of his closest friends and colleagues in the programming group, Kent Evans, died in a mountaineering accident when he was 17. “Throughout my life, I have tended to deal with loss by avoiding it,” Gates writes. He says later that if he were growing up today, he would probably be identified as “on the autism spectrum”, and now regrets some of his early behaviour, though “I wouldn’t change the brain I was given for anything”. There is a sense of the writer, older and wiser, trying to redeem the past through understanding it better, a thing that no one has yet seen Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg attempt in public. That alone makes Bill Gates a more human tech titan than most of his rivals, past and present.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

The Talon Roost

Nestled along the rugged shoreline of Puget Sound, just outside the bustling heart of Unity City, Terra, Melissa Hazen and Theodora Marten-Steiner’s home exudes a warmth and intimacy that starkly contrasts with their imposing public personas. Known as “The Talon Roost,” this sprawling lodge combines the rustic charm of traditional log cabin architecture with the subtle integration of cutting-edge technology from Terra’s civilian sector.

The Talon Roost sits perched on a rocky bluff overlooking the Sound, its timbered exterior blending with the surrounding forest. Massive, hand-hewn logs form the structure’s frame, their natural grain and texture preserved to honor the timeless beauty of the Pacific Northwest. The lodge’s roof is made up of a mix of eco-friendly solar tiles and living greenery. Wide wraparound decks extend from the main structure, offering panoramic views of the water and mountains beyond. A series of cascading stairs, lined with ambient lighting, leads down to a private dock where a sleek, automated watercraft rests, flanked by kayaks and a small security boat. At night, the lodge glows warmly, its large windows offering glimpses of life inside—a sharp yet inviting contrast to the quiet wilderness outside.

Entering the Talon Roost feels like stepping into a sanctuary. High vaulted ceilings, supported by massive wooden beams, create a sense of openness, while large floor-to-ceiling windows flood the space with natural light during the day. The interior décor balances modern minimalist design with the cozy aesthetics of a mountain lodge. Neutral tones dominate, accented by vibrant greens and golds—an homage to Melissa’s Jade Falcon heritage. The heart of the lodge, the living room, is anchored by a double-sided fireplace made of locally quarried stone. The hearth radiates warmth, surrounded by plush sofas and armchairs adorned with patterned blankets and throw pillows. Above the fireplace, a holographic display can project serene landscapes or serve as an entertainment hub, though it’s often turned off, leaving the room in serene simplicity. The kitchen combines the rustic appeal of handcrafted cabinetry with state-of-the-art appliances. A long central island, topped with polished stone, doubles as a communal dining space. The open floor plan flows into the dining area, where a custom-built table—crafted from salvaged driftwood—sits beneath an impressive chandelier of crystal and wrought iron. A cozy library, lined with shelves of books and historical texts, offers a quiet retreat for both Melissa and Theodora. A vintage mahogany desk sits at the far end, equipped with a concealed holo-terminal for secure communication and work. Nearby, a comfortable reading nook overlooks the Sound, with a soft chair and a small table perpetually holding a steaming pot of tea. The large, lavish, and highly advanced home theater was Theodora's pet project - it is outfitted with the absolute latest in cutting-edge holographic, trideo, and flat screen projection technology as well as a sound system that cost nearly as much as a light BattleMech.

While The Talon Roost appears traditional, its technology is anything but. Discrete panels throughout the home provide instant access to climate control, security systems, and personal AI assistants. The lodge’s power is supplied by a combination of renewable sources, ensuring self-sufficiency even during extended outages. A secure Star League-era communication hub is integrated into the study, allowing Melissa and Theodora to stay connected with SLDF operations. Beneath the lodge, hidden from view, lies a private hangar with bays large enough for both Melissa’s Highlander and Theodora’s Atlas, as well as the company of security 'Mechs on-site. Advanced automated repair systems and diagnostic tools ensure the 'Mechs are always ready for action. Also included is a multi-functional room utilizing advanced Holotank technology capable of projecting tactical simulations, training environments, or serene natural landscapes for relaxation.

The grounds around the lodge are meticulously curated. A path winds through a grove of ancient cedar trees to a private firepit surrounded by log benches. Nearby, a greenhouse houses a mix of local flora and medicinal plants, along with herbs for Theodora’s favorite recipes. A falconry mew, discreetly tucked into the edge of the property, is home to a small cast of Jade Falcons whom Melissa tends to personally—a connection to her heritage and a calming pastime away from the demands of leadership. The Talon Roost’s atmosphere is one of quiet strength and serenity. For two figures as legendary as Melissa Hazen and Theodora Marten-Steiner, the lodge represents a refuge from the chaos of the Inner Sphere—a place to reconnect with nature, their shared history, and each other. The cozy interiors, paired with the breathtaking natural surroundings, create a space where visitors are immediately put at ease, despite the immense power and influence of its owners. This dichotomy—between public and private life, between war and peace—is what makes The Talon Roost not just a home, but a reflection of the lives Melissa and Theodora have built together.

While The Talon Roost exudes an aura of peace and natural harmony, its security infrastructure rivals that of any high-level military installation. As the personal residence of two high-ranking SLDF officers, it incorporates layers of cutting-edge technology, physical deterrents, and personnel to ensure the safety of its occupants and maintain its strategic utility. The property is surrounded by an invisible perimeter system that utilizes advanced motion detection, thermal imaging, and seismic sensors. Any unauthorized entry triggers both silent and audible alarms, alerting the SLDF garrison stationed nearby. Discrete but highly effective automated turrets, hidden in the rocky outcroppings and among the trees, are equipped with non-lethal crowd control measures and high-powered laser weaponry for more extreme threats. Signature reduction technology derived from Null Signature System technology shields The Talon Roost from all but visual aerial and orbital scans, while a squadron of SLDF-designed surveillance drones patrols the airspace and property boundary. These drones are equipped with stealth tech, high-resolution cameras, and lethal weaponry. Meanwhile, the picturesque firepit near the cedar grove doubles as an emergency bunker entrance, reinforced to withstand even orbital bombardment. Decorative stone statues around the property conceal sensors and emitters capable of deploying small scale energy weapons in emergencies.

The Talon Roost is protected by a small, elite detachment of SLDF Royal Black Watch troops. While their presence is unobtrusive, they are always ready to respond to any threat. The guard detachment includes three Stars of MechWarriors, with their BattleMechs stationed in the Roost's subterranean hangar. A company of infantry, drawn from the Royal Black Watch's commando-trained operatives, patrols the property and acts as a rapid reaction force. All on-site security personnel reside in a concealed bunker built into the cliffside upon which the Roost perches. Security details rotate regularly to maintain optimal readiness and avoid becoming predictable. A concealed, automated command center under the lodge handles all security and monitoring tasks. Operatives stationed here can communicate directly with SLDF High Command and deploy additional resources as needed.

Beneath The Talon Roost lies a complex network of subterranean tunnels, elevators, and passageways that connect the property to critical SLDF and Star League installations in the region. This link allows both Melissa and Theodora to access secure meeting rooms or emergency operations centers without requiring surface travel. A direct maglev transit tunnel leads to both the nearby Tacoma Castle Brian, as well as the SLDF's Citadel inside Unity City itself - rebuilt by the SLDF to once again serve as their High Command complex. The headquarters of the Royal Black Watch, Fort Cameron, is linked to the lodge by another high-speed maglev route. The connection allows Theodora to oversee her regiment's activities or deploy her Atlas in minutes. The lodge is also connected via the maglev-tunnel system directly to the Court of the Star League.

In the event of an overwhelming threat, the lodge’s subterranean systems include a concealed evacuation pod capable of transporting occupants to either the Citadel or Fort Cameron in under five minutes. The lodge also features a last-resort self-destruct mechanism. Activated only by voice authorization from Melissa or Theodora, this system ensures no critical technology or data can fall into enemy hands. In case of a siege, the lodge can deploy automated counter-battery defenses, jamming fields, and active missile interceptors hidden within the terrain.

While The Talon Roost offers warmth, serenity, and a welcoming atmosphere, its hidden security and strategic capabilities reflect the immense responsibilities carried by its owners. This stark juxtaposition mirrors the lives of Melissa Hazen and Theodora Marten-Steiner, who must balance their personal sanctuary with their duties as protectors of humanity’s future. It is a place of respite, but one always ready for the call to action.

[therattlingtadpoles]

whats the story with the robot music band? they are so neat

I'm so glad you asked!! :D

I can give a basic rundown of the full lore right now.

The Rattling Tadpoles are an early jazz/bluegrass band living in a robot civilization. Their society sprouted from an automated mining colony. Basically, as humans depleted the nonrenewable mineral deposits on their own planet, they turned to extraterrestrial sources.

Outpost 3 is a colony very far from earth. At first, they had humans working there as they set up the robotic system for mining. Eventually, they didn't need residential human workers. All engineers went home and the colony ran smoothly. Earth would communicate with the robotic system to send instructions, and the colony would send back ships full of minerals.

Until one day, Earth went silent.

The colony kept the channel open, sending questions with no response. Eventually, in the silence, with no instructions on what to do, the artificial intelligence system turned to the entertainment: music, books, and films left on the planet by the human residents. It decided it needed to create something like what it saw there. So it broke off little pieces of itself, made little individual consciousnesses, and housed them in the bodies of mindless mining robots. Each with their own personality, dreams and identity. It nurtured them for a time and then sank out of the public view, becoming a hermit. It is tormented by a longing to hear from Earth again. Its children feel the same way; the ultimate goal of many is to find and return to humanity. But what happened to Earth is still a mystery.

The Rattling Tadpoles were some of those beings created by "Maminka" (as the robots call it) and slowly formed their identities over time. They chose how they wanted to look and modified their bodies with scrap metal. They developed an affinity for music. And many, many years after robot civilization formed, they met each other and started a band.

Now their life's work (at least for now) is to play music and perform together. They also get up to a lot of mischief as they roam the countryside. My story follows their adventures and the experiences of other robots on the planet.

Now you're up to speed on most of the robot lore! I still have a lot to talk about and will probably accompany it with art. Feel free to ask me any questions. I love yapping about them :)

[digitaldetoxworld]

Building Your Own Operating System: A Beginner’s Guide

An operating system (OS) is an essential component of computer systems, serving as an interface between hardware and software. It manages system resources, provides services to users and applications, and ensures efficient execution of processes. Without an OS, users would have to manually manage hardware resources, making computing impractical for everyday use.

Lightweight operating system for old laptops

Functions of an Operating System

Operating systems perform several crucial functions to maintain system stability and usability. These functions include:

1. Process Management

 The OS allocates resources to processes and ensures fair execution while preventing conflicts. It employs algorithms like First-Come-First-Serve (FCFS), Round Robin, and Shortest Job Next (SJN) to optimize CPU utilization and maintain system responsiveness.

2. Memory Management

The OS tracks memory usage and prevents memory leaks by implementing techniques such as paging, segmentation, and virtual memory. These mechanisms enable multitasking and improve overall system performance.

3. File System Management

It provides mechanisms for reading, writing, and deleting files while maintaining security through permissions and access control. File systems such as NTFS, FAT32, and ext4 are widely used across different operating systems.

4. Device Management

 The OS provides device drivers to facilitate interaction with hardware components like printers, keyboards, and network adapters. It ensures smooth data exchange and resource allocation for input/output (I/O) operations.

5. Security and Access Control

 It enforces authentication, authorization, and encryption mechanisms to protect user data and system integrity. Modern OSs incorporate features like firewalls, anti-malware tools, and secure boot processes to prevent unauthorized access and cyber threats.

6. User Interface

 CLI-based systems, such as Linux terminals, provide direct access to system commands, while GUI-based systems, such as Windows and macOS, offer intuitive navigation through icons and menus.

Types of Operating Systems

Operating systems come in various forms, each designed to cater to specific computing needs. Some common types include:

1. Batch Operating System

These systems were widely used in early computing environments for tasks like payroll processing and scientific computations.

2. Multi-User Operating System

 It ensures fair resource allocation and prevents conflicts between users. Examples include UNIX and Windows Server.

3. Real-Time Operating System (RTOS)

RTOS is designed for time-sensitive applications, where processing must occur within strict deadlines. It is used in embedded systems, medical devices, and industrial automation. Examples include VxWorks and FreeRTOS.

4  Mobile Operating System

Mobile OSs are tailored for smartphones and tablets, offering touchscreen interfaces and app ecosystems. 

5  Distributed Operating System

Distributed OS manages multiple computers as a single system, enabling resource sharing and parallel processing. It is used in cloud computing and supercomputing environments. Examples include Google’s Fuchsia and Amoeba.

Popular Operating Systems

Several operating systems dominate the computing landscape, each catering to specific user needs and hardware platforms.

1. Microsoft Windows

 It is popular among home users, businesses, and gamers. Windows 10 and 11 are the latest versions, offering improved performance, security, and compatibility.

2. macOS

macOS is Apple’s proprietary OS designed for Mac computers. It provides a seamless experience with Apple hardware and software, featuring robust security and high-end multimedia capabilities.

3. Linux

Linux is an open-source OS favored by developers, system administrators, and security professionals. It offers various distributions, including Ubuntu, Fedora, and Debian, each catering to different user preferences.

4. Android

It is based on the Linux kernel and supports a vast ecosystem of applications.

5. iOS

iOS is Apple’s mobile OS, known for its smooth performance, security, and exclusive app ecosystem. It powers iPhones and iPads, offering seamless integration with other Apple devices.

Future of Operating Systems

The future of operating systems is shaped by emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence (AI), cloud computing, and edge computing. Some key trends include:

1. AI-Driven OS Enhancements

AI-powered features, such as voice assistants and predictive automation, are becoming integral to modern OSs. AI helps optimize performance, enhance security, and personalize user experiences.

2. Cloud-Based Operating Systems

Cloud OSs enable users to access applications and data remotely. Chrome OS is an example of a cloud-centric OS that relies on internet connectivity for most functions.

3. Edge Computing Integration

With the rise of IoT devices, edge computing is gaining importance. Future OSs will focus on decentralized computing, reducing latency and improving real-time processing.

4. Increased Focus on Security

Cyber threats continue to evolve, prompting OS developers to implement advanced security measures such as zero-trust architectures, multi-factor authentication, and blockchain-based security.