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iamthepulta · 2 months ago

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@joemomrgneissguy SPACE MINING. HO BOY.

So when mining comes into a conversation, there are several 'laws' of mining and processing that I like to consider that people tend to forget:

Location and rarity of commodity

Location and rarity of extraction techniques/reagents

What is necessary for this operation to work?

Where does the finished product go?

Some of these are extraneous. Theoretically, we don't have to care that iron is common on earth and might be present on the moon, so it changes the conversation from "why?" to "how would we?". Same with extraction and reagents. If you don't care how expensive it is to ship- for example: water and carbon dioxide to the moon because you want to process He-3, nothing can stop you.

However, what will stop planning, is processing. Blowing up a rock is easy. Collecting the rock and breaking it into a usable form is not. If there isn't a plan for exactly what commodity is being mined and how to separate it and all the equipment that needs to be made to get it into a usable form, and a plan to get that equipment into space. God help the poor bastard.

And fundamentally, no matter HOW you turn it, people use the finished product. If there are no people where you are mining the Thing, you need to have a way for the Thing to get back to the people who need it. WHY are you mining the Thing? What is economic about the Thing being made? and Is it worth the money?

[angry geologist rant under the cut]

So the thing about space and asteroids is metals come in native form a lot of the time because there's nothing to oxidize them; it makes processing simpler and the density increases profit. This is usually what people talk about when they go off about space mining: Ohh, if we just reach this asteroid 400 years away there's so much Gold and Platinum! Ohh, if we just crashed a FUCKING ASTEROID INTO EARTH OR MARS we could be so rich!

However this is a LIE for two reasons: It's actually harder to process straight sulfides or straight metal because they aren't brittle. Instead of breaking into smaller pieces you can separate and process, they jam the crusher. Universities with mining departments often have huge chunks of impressive high-grade sitting around that were donated by companies when they jammed their fucking system. If you can't break it down, it's a useless fucking clump of rock.

Secondly, even if you have native metals clumped together like an iron-nickel asteroid, unless you want an iron-nickel product, you have to separate them. Since it's not brittle, you would have to pour a bunch of hydrochloric on it and wait for the reaction to dissolve the outer surface.

And all this is assuming the metals are on Earth. If not, you have to figure out how to do this in space. How much HCl will you need? How are you going to fly it up there? How are you going to break it down? How are you going to replace parts when they inevitably break?

The big "commodity" on the moon is Helium-3, which is extremely rare on Earth. (So yes, we have a need, and yes, there's substantial reason to mine it in a place where it's more accessible.) The logic starts breaking down around "getting it back" and "how does the operation work": In moon quantities (up to 15 parts per billion (ppb)), you have to mine about 150 tons to extract 1g of He-3. That's not unreasonable, to be honest, since economic gold hovers around 7-12 ppb. And technically you'd only have to heat the rock to 600-700 C. However, things do melt at those temperatures. Then you have to get it back to earth. Either a SpaceX-style return and come back, or a drop shipments- It's just insane to me though that we would use SO MANY RESOURCES to rip up the fucking moon, even with an automated system, when if you look at He-3 we already produce what equals 11 pounds of He-3 yearly from Oil and Gas deposits, it's just not collected.

I have more beef with planets that are theoretically resource-rich, but people just- don't care about getting them back to Earth? Venus has significant metal-Sulfides and Tellurides in its atmosphere, which is why people joke about the "floating oxygen colonies" on Venus. But congratulations! You've colonized a planet that is inaccessible to human technology because anything we've ever designed will dissolve. Same with Europa. To design something that works on Venus - not to mention extracts things in the proper form to be used in human conditions - and/or get them back to Earth means redesigning how we think of the properties of the periodic table.

With extraction, we play a lot with oxidation states, and one of the rules is to stay within Earth's aqueous conditions. If you oxidize anything too much, your solution will want to vaporize to oxygen. Reduce anything too much, and your solution will want to vaporize to hydrogen gas.

So, if you design anything on Earth designed for conditions on Venus, it will be unstable. If you design anything on Venus meant for Earth, it will be unstable.

Which is kind of the end of my rant, I guess. Don't crash something into Earth unless you can process it. If you can process it in space, can you get it back? Who's responsible when the thing breaks? Why the fuck is money being spent when 9 times out of 10 we have it here on earth with the conditions we're familiar with?

If we've somehow depleted Earth enough that we need resources from other planets, which would insinuate we have not figured out how to recycle our own metals, which is untrue, and likewise we have no business in space anyway- Where did all our resources go? Are we leaving for those other planets? Do we have faster-than-light travel to collect the new resources in a timely manner?

There isn't even water in space half the time and if you do have a colony on Mars and tech bros are going to process all the hematite to build their shitty underground Martian city, are they shipping water from the north and south poles to do this? Have they figured out how to renew the carbon filters that are going to be needed to get all the waste and organics out of it once it's used?

In my opinion, it's all just fucking stupid. Space mining tries to answer a question that doesn't need to be asked with people who don't know how mineral processing works who haven't thought what the logistics require and don't care that entropy demands even minerals in stasis don't last forever. But it's ~new~ and the dollar signs on metallic asteroids gleam in their eyes and I want to take out Elon Musk's kneecaps.

#Apparently a team in Europe proposed a way to separate Fe2O3 while producing oxygen. Which is definitely a step forward.#But I still say the actual water and reagents used to process rock to element are non-circular enough that it's a huge hindrance.#Anyway! Space mining! Quickest way to expose a techbro dipshit is ask where they'll get the water for iron oxide separation.#Fix our own planet and close the circuits in hydrometallurgy and then we can talk about space mining.#mining #geology #mineral processing #I hope this was actually legible and coherent lol. I didn't spend as much time on it as I did on the Gold one.#I hate space mining and gold mining for the greed and colonialist mindset.

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mooncalfed · 2 months ago

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Succession (i. Price)

after a significant professional milestone, your bodyguard rewards your handsomely

[bodyguard!Price - fem!reader - spitting - fingering - rough blowjob - car sex - reader is confident and a brat]

You are veritably buzzing with adrenaline when you leave the meeting room.

Hot on your heels to your right hand side is your bodyguard John Price. He hands you your Chanel blazer and with ease you give him your briefcase while you slip your arms into the supple tweed material.

Heart racing, pulse thrumming, the click-clacking of your stilettos echoes your heart rate as the two of you stride out of the office and make your way to the elevator. It seems to take so long that you feel you might explode in the process. The glee you feel seems to expand within you by the minute, and you fear you might explode at any moment.

You can’t keep the grin off your face, and even your usually stoic bodyguard can’t help but crack a smile at your expression.

Ding!

John holds out an arm to prevent the doors closing as you step in. Turning, you and watch as John presses the button for ground floor, and then in the blissful silence of the empty elevator you release a maniacal scream of pure delight.

“I did it! I did it! John I fucking did it!”

You dive into his arms and squeeze his thick middle as hard as you can, and relish in the rumbling chuckle that is emitted from the warm man in your embrace. You breathe deeply and try to imprint this moment into your brain. Woody, earthy, clean, male. This is what the moment will smell like to you.

“‘Course you did, love. Never doubted you for a second.” John's eyes are warm with mirth and appreciation, and you feel a wave of affection overcome you.

You push yourself even higher on your toes and crash your mouth into his. It’s clumsy with dry lips not really meeting and far too much teeth and you end it before John can really reciprocate, but neither of you are fussy about it because the moment is perfect enough.

John’s hand is hot where it’s landed on your hip, and he gives it a firm squeeze as you start to rattle on about how major this new contract is for you, as though he weren’t there with you every step of the way.

You take a quick breath and pull your head slightly back to lock eyes with him.

“I think I deserve a reward now, don't you think?”

John’s eyes narrow. “Now, darling? Hardly think the lobby of your new corporate partner is an appropriate venue for me to lick your cunt clean.”

Ding!

You pout and step away from him. Once more at a respectable distance despite the utter debauchery running through your head.

The elevator doors open and the wall of people waiting for your elevator puts a rest to your returning remark, though you have enough time to send John a prissy little glare.

People make way for you, because you’re important and you’re young and you’re beautiful, but most especially because you’re fucking good at what you do. There are more than a few respectful head nods at you on your way out, and though the contract and merger were meant to be a well-kept secret, loose lips are easily found where money is and no doubt word is getting out about your impressive gamble and venture.

There is no one happier on Earth than me right now, you decide.

There’s an extra pep in your step as you and John exit the premises and to your awaiting Daimler. As always John opens the door for you and lends you his hand as you get in the car. His grip is dry and warm and calloused and makes your insides squirm.

Nothing gets you hornier than success and a gentle man to rough and tumble with.

John gets in the car on other side and you open your mouth to spew forth your wicked thoughts, however upon his entry you notice that he’s holding your phone out.

Kate, on speaker, he mouths, and passes you the phone.

“Kate!” You squeal. There is no better person to share wonderful career news with than Kate Laswell, your mentor.

When you entered the workforce you had singled her out - easy to do since she was a rare woman amongst many, many men - and practically ran her ragged with your constant questions and polite - if persistent - inquiries. Years later and now she is a close friend and confidant. John Price actually came through her recommendation, which makes today’s success feel somewhat of a family affair.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

Your cheeks are beginning to hurt from happiness.

John leans to the driver and murmurs, “Partition up Garrick, and take the long way back to London.”

“Who knew your scrawny self would get to this place?” Kate teases.

“Actually I believe you did,” you say, reaching your arm out to allow John to take off your blazer, "I do recall you saying that come hell or high water, I would go the distance". You kick off your heels and wriggle your stockinged toes.

“As humble as ever. Yes I did know. You really deserve this. I can’t imagine it’s been easy in the least.”

“Yeah, I think this job was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” You think about the months and months of negotiating, the endless back and forth, the two occasions where things almost fell through and the awful insomnia that followed. “I can’t believe it’s really done...”

“Things are going to change for you now.”

John’s large warm palm lands on your thigh as he settles into his seat.

You look over at him and cup his jaw with your hand, brushing a finger over the delicious beard that almost hides his lips. When your thumb brushes them, he presses a kiss to the pad of your thumb.

“Yeah,” you say, smile disappearing, “they will.”

“But John will be there with you,” Kate reminds you, “every step of the way.”

You lock eyes with him.

“Yes he will.” You whisper.

John’s eyes glitter, and your previously calming heart rate skyrockets when his hand begins to travel up your stockinged thigh. Yes yes yes yes yes, you chant mentally. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You drop your eyes to watch his beautiful hands push your black tweed skirt up.

Your heart is in your throat. You wore a new black garter set with the hopes of John discovering it and as much as you adore Kate, you want him to have your full attention when he drools on your thighs.

“Will you hit the ground running or will you take a break before it all begins? Both are solid options.”

“Hmmm…” you murmur, pretending to consider what Kate is saying to you though your brain is practically dial-toning as John’s palm just begins to touch lace.

He pauses, and so does your breathing.

He makes the last push a little firmer, and you lift your eyes to look into his.

Your breath is stolen from you. John’s pupils are dark and blown and the animal is loose in him and holy fuck you don’t know whether you want to eat him up or for him to devour you (with teeth), but once the lace is well under his palm, John fingers begin to squeeze and you grow so, so wet.

“I think,” you swallow, “I think I’m going to take a quick break. Or maybe just get straight into it. You know, to not lose momentum.”

John’s lips quirk up at the side.

Against your safer instincts, you tilt the phone away from you to lean forwards and lick the corner of his upturned mouth.

You hear Kate laugh. “You didn’t answer my question, but I can guess why.”

You’re impervious to her teasing. You want John’s taste, his sweat, his musk, his everything. You can taste it. God, do you want it.

“I’m guessing you guys are taking the long way back to London.”

“Yes we are,” John purrs into the receiver, and takes it from you. “Thank you Kate, we’ll drive safely.”

He hangs up without waiting for an answer.

The phone falls to the floor as you collide with him in a dirty, sloppy kiss. His beard is sort of in your mouth and your arm is wedged awkwardly between your chest and his, but you couldn’t care less because his right hand is digging dangerously close to your cunt and surely he can feel how it pulses right? Surely he knows how absolutely wet and ready you are for him.

John’s left hand grips the back of your neck and pulls you back.

“No!” You whine, and lick your lips. “Why?”

“Because love,” the hand under your skirt slides higher and finally you get to feel the press of his hand against your hungry cunt. “Because we’ve got a long ride back home and I want to play with you.”

“Okay, yes, I want that.” You pant.

John’s head cocks.

“Do you, pet?” Two fingers stroke slowly up and down your slit and both of you sigh at the sensation. “So wet, always so wet.”

“You know I’m always wet for you,” you say, tears already appearing at your eyeline. John’s throat bobs. He loves it when you cry and you swear you’d spend the rest of eternity weeping as long as you could have his cock in one of your holes at all times.

He leans in and you, thinking it’s a kiss, lean in too.

But he stops right before your lips touch his and you, desperate to make the distance, struggle against the firm, tight grip he’s got on the nape of your neck. You fail to close the gap.

Fuck, it’s going to be like this.

“Fuck!” You gasp as he pushes his fingers into you slightly, the resistance of the stockings preventing him from going any further. “Yes, yes, yessss.”

“No love,” John whispers. You can feel his hot breath hit your lips and dry them. You lick your lips and see his eyes flit to them and lick them again. You want him to crack and just kiss you but you know this man has an iron will.

John’s tongue darts out and traces the edge of your upper lip. You struggle against the hand that holds your neck because you want to taste his tongue, but his grip stays and you have no choice but to wriggle in place.

His thumb joins to press against your clit. He gives your pulsing clit a few gentle swipes, and suddenly you’re extremely annoyed that you didn’t have the foresight to take your stockings off. You’re so turned on you could come now if you wanted to.

“Stay still for me, love.” John shifts closer, thick thigh pressing against yours. It allows him to put more pressure on your cunt and gives him a little more height, which he uses to support your head in his hand. His thumb presses into the base of your skull, creating a delicious warmth where you have been tense for weeks on head.

John leans down slightly and gives you a small kiss. Too small to deepen, too short to stay.

Then he pulls back for a moment and returns to kiss you once more. Same as before, short and horrifyingly chaste.

You squeak. You don’t care how juvenile you sound, but he won’t even kiss you properly and that just won't do!

He chuckles and you tighten around nothing. You love that sound, that warm, chocolatey resonance that drives you absolutely insane.

You want more.

“Please kiss me…”

John smiles but doesn’t acquiesce. His right hand stills its movements though he keeps the pressure, and instead he leans in to swipe his tongue fully across your lips. Your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Stick your tongue out, darling.”

You do, and John squeezes your neck. “Look at me.”

You do, and John smiles.

“Swallow.” He says, before opening his mouth and spitting slooooowly onto your eager and awaiting tongue.

You do.

“That’s it, pet.” John murmurs, watching you hawkishly as you open your mouth again, gasping for air.

“Please John,” you’re crying real tears now, “please either fuck me or kiss me, please, please. Just give me something. Don’t leave me like this.” There’s nothing more you want right now than his fingers in you, his cock in you, his–

You gasp. John watches you intently.

“I wanna suck your dick.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Please! Please. When we get to London you can’t get out of the car with a hard on and I promise you can do whatever you want to me when we get home but please let me have this! I want to taste you, I want you to come down my throat, I really want it, please, please please.”

You watch as John’s nostrils flare. His gaze quivers and you know you’ve won.

The moment his hand releases your neck, your hands are on his waist and frantically unbuckling belt.

John’s hand falls to your back, doing slow strokes up and down as you lose your composure inches away from his dick.

Belt loose and trousers unzipped, you decide to take your time with the last bit. You love seeing the shape of John’s cock in his briefs and have often tried to picture the shade of his erection before you take it out of his pants.

You run a finger over the curve of his cock and dart your eyes up briefly when you hear his slow inhale. John’s generally unflappable, but you know how to play your cards right.

You push down his underwear and relish in the way his cock bobs slightly. It’s a gorgeous shade of flushed pink-red, deeper at the cockhead and base with a mouthwatering vein that starts just under the head and curves to meet the root.

You open your mouth and let a mouthful of saliva drip onto his hot cock, and giggle when it bounces slightly.

John lets out a slow sigh as a hand slides into your hair and fists the roots.

Too impatient to wait, you give the slit a coy lick and hum at the taste of precome on your tongue. Before John can draw another breath you take him as deeply as you possibly can, hands curling around the last few inches you can’t get in.

A sharp groan punches the air as you begin to suck and bob.

You’re desperately horny and you don’t want this to be drawn out. You’re especially careless with how deep you take him and choke on what seems like every other downstroke. Above you, you can hear John’s breath stutter and you can feel his stomach clench against your side, but all you can smell and taste is his sweat and musk and come and you want him to remember this day as much as you will.

You clamber clumsily up onto your knees to get a little more leverage and immediately choke when the movement sends John’s cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag and splutter and watch as saliva drips down into his pubic hair, but that just eggs you on. You slow down slightly because what you’re about to do requires finesse, and you were thoroughly punished once for being a little too careless. Twisting your torso slightly so that your lower teeth find John’s vein, you give him just a little scrape of your teeth as you slowly take him in.

You’re exceedingly rewarded by the loud moan above you.

And you’re terrifically shocked by the slap on the arse you receive in return.

Arse-cheek smarting, you pull away from John’s cock to snip at him only for the hand in your hair to force you back down.

You squeal around him, at first in annoyance but soon in satisfaction as John’s wandering hand returns under your skirt to rub roughly against your slit. He’s inaccurate with it and hits your clit randomly which annoys you and makes you suck him more vigorously. If he’s going to be this way, then you’re going to suck his brains out.

You begin to hum and moan as you suck, enjoying the consequential tightening of John's fist in your hair. You alternate between taking him as deeply as possible and as quickly as possible, just enjoying the burn of your throat and the cramp in your jaw. John tastes salty and bitter and his smell is getting stronger in your nose and the scent is just scrumptious. You would wear it as perfume, if you could.

One of your hands releases the base of John’s cock to cup his balls, and you play your winning card by ever so lightly running your sharp nails down the curve of his balls.

John comes with a shout and his dick punches your throat as a jet of thick come pours into your throat. Your nose burns as you try to swallow and breath at the same time but despite your best efforts you manage to let a little come slide down his softening cock. You lift up and breathe deep before returning to lap up the salty, bitter liquid.

“Fucking hell pet,” John rasps. You barely have time to even look smug before suddenly his clumsy, thick fingers are dead precise and he pinches hard at your covered clit.

“Ah!” You cry, lurching forwards. John catches you with his right against your chest but his left pursues its target and he pinches and squeezes at your poor, aching clit.

“John,” you sob, gurgling through a sore throat. “Please!”

Your hips roll and buck and circle as they try to find a rhythm but John is cruel and unrelenting. His dick is still out and you seek comfort in it as you lean your cheek against his soft, sticky cock.

And then John does something cruel.

He stops altogether.

“What! No, why!” Your head lifts but you’re stopped by a rough hand over your mouth.

“Careful darling, else Garrick will hear and will want in on the fun.” John gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead but that is absolutely not what you want.

“Turn around and lay on your back for me,” he purrs, “such a pity I haven’t even seen those delightful tits of yours.”

You scramble to move, undignified and uncaring. “Let me have a look and I’ll give you what you want.”

Back on his lap, you unbutton your blouse with shaking hands. Vaguely you remember choosing this shirt for a reason, but in your desperation to have his mouth on you your cock-addled mind can’t cobble together a single memory as to why you chose this finicky piece of cloth.

You’re wearing a lacy black bra, a matching set to your garter. Your nipples are hard from arousal and visible through the delicate fabric. They ache for his touch and you arch your back in invitation.

John’s grin is wolfish as he reverently pulls down the left lace cup. Even the glide of expensive material almost hurts you, and your legs fall open in anticipation of what is about to happen.

John dips his head and bares his teeth as he closes around your nipple. You gasp and try to hold still even though you can feel his hot panting warm your chest. He gives you a slight bite and you moan loudly.

“God yessss.”

That breaks the dam and John drops his head to swallow as much of your breast as possible. His tongue flicks and flirts with your nipple as his teeth graze your skin and you yelp and sigh and squeal at the mouth watering sensations.

John pulls up slowly, teeth grazing your nipple and pulling it up slightly before releasing. It hurts just enough for your cunt to release another wave of wetness, and he seems to know this because his left hand returns to your legs just as his right cups your right breast.

This time though, the hand in between your legs manages to shove the tight underwear to the side and finally you get skin on skin as he sinks two fingers easily into your sopping cunt and his thick thumb locates your clit.

John makes no bones of fucking you immediately, drawing his fingers in and out as his thumb bullies your throbbing clit. He dives down to your chest again to bite and suck and blow on your breasts while his right fingers firmly twist your right nipple.

Your mouth is wide open and the sounds you make loudly and ghastly and animalistic, but you can’t help it - this, this is what you deserve, this is what you’ve waited for. Words escape you are you are held down and subjected to pure feeling.

Sooner than you’d like you feel your climax spiral from your stomach to your chest and when you come your entire body stiffens as your orgasm rips through you. Your hips buck and chase John’s fingers until you can’t decide whether you want more or less, and in time the calloused thumb on your clit tips a little closer to pain and like a marionette with cut strings, you give one last sigh and fall loose-limbed into a semi-nude heap.

Above you John Price looks inordinately pleased with himself.

You’re sure you’re a sight to behold - covered in lace and clothed almost everywhere except your swollen and chafed nipples, and likely with lipstick smeared and come on your chin and neck on top of that.

John lifts your head slightly so that you don’t cramp your neck and gives you a fond smile. In return you shuffle slightly on to your side and give a quick kiss to the exposed skin on his wrist. You look down at his soft dick and stroke it gently, with tenderness. Your mouth waters while you look at it and you swallow again, delighting in the soreness of your throat.

“Love, you’re insatiable.” John huffs, slightly disbelieving.

“Can you blame me?” You can’t stop looking at his beautiful cock. Your hand wanders up his chest and your eyes follow until once more you’re swimming in the beautiful browns of your bodyguard’s eyes.

“I am so glad we’re taking the long way home. I was promised some cunt-licking.”

#John Price smut #john price x reader #cod smut #cod fanfiction #captain john price x reader #call of duty x reader #John Price #john price x #cod mwii #cod fanfic

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celestialtarot11 · 2 months ago

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what does venus in the 8th house remind you of?

cover me in your deepest sorrow and I’ll meet you with my own. lets merge each others souls, because i cannot bare to be alone in my skin. to feel the insistent beating of each others hearts. yet somehow the words fall empty on bare lips—reeking of vulnerability and rawness. naked eyes, wide and revealing a carcass roaming the earth. pallid fingers paint what they cannot say, because words stifle the beauty of their soul. it’s a chain gripping their chords. feelings are immense, deep and crashing like tides against stony rocks, and if you choose to stay till sunrise, you’ll see how their tides slow. tamed for now. gentle like the kiss of a loved one against your skin…oh how they long for affection yet run, once slivers of the warm sunrise douse them. hungry, wide open. gods favorite wound.

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callmelyc · 3 months ago

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Lance had been missing for a month now and nothing gives any signs of where he could be.

Keith has searched everywhere to find any semblance of a trace but he can't even remember the mission they'd been on together.

All he has to go on are his dreams of Lance. Lance who will smile at him in those dreams but not speak, who is serene during Keith's turmoil.

Lance who just cups his face and mouths the words "it's ok, you know."

But he doesn't. Keith doesn't know and it's driving him insane.

He's been to countless planets, meetings, debriefs. Nothing. Not a drop of evidence for where Lance McClain could be. Yet when Keith goes to sleep at night he'll see Lances face behind his eyelids watching and waiting patiently as if he never left.

~•~

One night when Keith crashes from exhaustion something feels different. There's sound in his dream and a maze. He goes through every challenge, each asking after some form of mental gymnastics but it feels so important that Keith can't ignore doing them.

He's reached a standstill, one in the center of the maze, when he hears it. A laugh like early spring, bright and oh so airy.

Wind chimes gently accompany the laugh and the warmth of a sun encapsulates Keith's whole being. He follows like it's a sirens song only to find dream Lance waiting by a small lake that he'd never seen before.

"Took you long enough mullet."

Keith's breath catches in his throat "I can hear you..."

All lance does is smile at him in amusement, waving Keith closer as if everything is normal. As if anything about this whole thing is normal.

Keith kneels next to him, taking a hand and pulls it close to his chest "where are you Lance?"

Lances free hand comes up to gently cup Keith's cheek. His thumb running soothingly into the flesh "you know where I am."

"But I don't! I haven't been able to find you for weeks!"

Lances smile softens "I'm right where you left me sweetheart."

Before Keith can retort he's ripped from his dream and everything floods back. A mission, a planet with plants that fight back.

Vines and poison.

A demand that told Keith to go get help, he'd be fine just go get help Keith.

Keith flings himself out of their bed and he's rushing to black faster than he can think. He knows where Lance is and he won't leave him waiting anymore.

This time when Keith goes down to this planet he makes sure he wears undamaged armor. This time, he makes sure the team is on emergency standby. This time....this time he's on heavier guard.

They'd underestimated this planet last time and it got Lance caught because of it.

Coran ran some test with Pidge and determined the reason they'd forgotten was due to the poison the spores produced.

A defense mechanism he'd said, so that the victims of their earth could not be saved. They were unsure how quickly the plants could consume their victims but coran and Pidge said it was unlikely Lance was harmed thanks to his armor.

"At most he's asleep, at worse he has some abrasions. It seems like a slow solvent in the goo the plants produce to trap the victims. Sorta like Venus fly traps but vines."

"And the forgetting part?" Keith asks while chopping through vines.

"Seems like a way to confuse the things harming them in hopes they leave or stop fighting to be the next target. It probably didn't expect you to escape."

"But we all forgot this mission Pidge."

"That would be because you were covered in the spores lad! When you returned we all fell under it's influence."

Keith huffs, cutting through more of the vines.

"Not to worry, when you two return we'll make sure to run you both through decontamination. No forgetting allowed this time."

"Yeah yeah, just be on standby."

Before long he's retraced his steps right back to the clearing from before. The entire area is overwhelmed with tangled vibes, huge flowers, roots ready to spring up and trap you.

Keith treads carefully across the earth making sure to not wake anything before it's time to fight back. First things first, he needs to determine where Lance is.

He prys his fingers between vines to peek inside. Vine clump after vine clump and nothing. No signs of Lance, no signs that any of these could fit a body underneath.

Then he sees it, a streak of white and blue. It's almost easy to overlook it, buried in the dirt, but it's his helmet the same one that got pulled off his head and got him poisoned to begin with.

Keith rushes over as fast as he can manage with the delicate nature of his steps. Sure enough, underneath the mound of vines near the helmet is Lance.

He's cocooned inside the vines, tangled so tightly in them Keith is surprised he's breathing. There's only one chance here, Keith knows he has to be fast enough or neither will make it out they'll both end up in vines if he fails.

So he holds his blade right and slices deep into the vine cocoon. The moment theres an opening Keith can hear the hisses from the plants as they realize there's someone fighting back, but he ignores them and he pushes in to pull Lance free.

Lance is covered in thick slime, he's unconscious and unresponsive but Keith doesn't have time to try to get him to move. He throws lance over his shoulder and breaks into a run.

The escape is difficult with lances dead weight making it hard to dodge all the angry plants shooting up towards them but the second they're within blacks sight the lion scoops them up and shoots into space.

This time no one forgot anything. No one will forget Lance and this time, lance won't be just a dream.

~•~

It takes two weeks for Lance to wake up. Bodily he was unharmed but the amount of poison from the slime covering him had placed their red paladin into a coma.

Keith dutifully sat by his bedside as everyone tried to convince him he wasnt guilty for forgetting.

"You didn't know"

"but I left him there..."

"You didn't know, none of us did."

He'd make sure Lance ate Hunks broths, he'd brush Lances hair for him because he knows he'd hate to wake to tangles. Keith did his skincare for him at night and kept him updated on everything that's happened.

Keith doesn't even know if Lance can hear him but the others assured Keith that his gentle care was helping even if he couldn't see it.

He wakes up one day to a hand carding weakly through his hair.

"good morning starlight."

Keith shoots up to make sure it isn't a dream. He comes face to face with blue eyes and the real version of the cocky smile he's grown to love.

"Took you long enough."

Keith practically climbs into Lances bed to pull him into an embrace "I'm so sorry-"

"None of that-" lances arm wrap around Keith just as tight "I knew you'dcome back. I was right where you left me."

Keith half sobs into the other boys shoulder "yeah...right where I left you."

Lance hums "don't worry samurai, I'll never leave you. No matter where I am I'll always be waiting."

Keith feels those hands comb through his hair again.

"always?...even if I forget?"

"Always. No matter the circumstances."

At those words Keith knows, everything will be alright. And as he eased I to lances very real, very comforting warmth, he's certain he'll never forget again.

#voltron #vld #lance vld #lance mcclain #vld lance #keith kogane #klance #keith voltron #keith x lance #soft klance #old twitter post if i put this here already bo i didnt

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 9 months ago

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First of all, very in love with the digital reader fic you put out <3

But since reader expressed not knowing why they were in hell I just couldn't help myself from thinking about this-

Reader: I don't even know why I'm here, the hell did I ever do?

Lucifer: Didn't you crash over half of all the systems on earth when you were alive?

Reader: That was an accident! I was only trying to crash like...ten!

Just a goofy thought that popped into my head- destructive characters that are chaotic on accident my beloved lmao-

Kisses darling <3

-📽

Sweet silly little Lucifer with his ducks. I feel like everyone thinks he's completely aware of everything happening in Hell at all times. Meanwhile, he's just making ducks and missing his daughter and can't remember the last time he ate.

Digital Pet [Vox x Reader, but this is a Lucifer interaction]

What Do You Mean You Don't Know

You'd been surfing through the digital plane like any other day. Vox had his schedule completely full, so you were on your own the pass the time. You hopped between windows that led into various devices all around Hell.

It was hard to tell where you were most of the time, but a part of you was convinced that you could slip into the devices of demons outside the Pride Ring. You'd once seen hellhounds and succubi at a party when you'd peeked into a large screen behind a DJ on stage. The large venue was covered in honeycombs and you saw some sort of lava lamp-looking furry doing shots in the middle of the energized crowd. While the aesthetic was similar enough to what you'd seen in the sinner's little slice of Hell, it felt... different.

It was precious information you decided to hold close to your chest. Maybe you'd tell Vox one day but from everything you'd seen about his power-hungry reputation, you decided it may be best not to play your card too soon. For all you know, it was just an exclusive club with different vibes. It wasn't unheard of for demons from the other rings to come to the clubs in Pride.

You were floating through an endless hall of screens and lights, looking between the different windows into the world you couldn't hope to touch when you saw a face that made you double-take.

"Is that..." You float back and gasp as you get a closer look that confirms your suspicions. "Oh, you motherfucker!"

Lucifer let out a startled yelp, dropping the duck he'd been painting as he fell out of his chair. He'd just been minding his own business, listening to some light jazz while he made duckie replicas of his daughter and all her little friends at the hotel when a loud voice suddenly blasted over the music on his laptop.

He frowned as he looked down and saw his white pants splatted with the fresh red paint of Alastor's duck. He was on his ninth attempt at replicating the cocky jerk and had finally been on the verge of getting his stupid grin right when you startled him.

"Oh great," Lucifer grumbled as he pulled himself off of the ground. "It's already bad enough I have a growing pile of ducks dedicated to this prick, now he's ruining my clothes too."

Lucifer leaned over his desk, trying to see what sort of pop-up advertisement or virus had gotten on his system when he suddenly saw you watching him with crossed arms. Your small form glared at him from where you sat atop of his video player.

"A sinner...?" Lucifer blinked slowly before looking at you in awe. He could see your soul and recognized you as a person immediately. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"You tell me!" you point at him angrily. "You're the guy in charge of this shit, aren't you? What did I ever do to you?! I didn't do anything to deserve a worse Hell than everyone else."

"How should I know?" Lucifer squawked as he threw up his arms in defense... "I haven't gone outside in... wait, what day is it?"

"How do you not know?" You ask, the two of you amping each other up in your confusion. "You're Lucifer! This is literally your entire thing!"

"Uh, excuse you," Lucifer tsked as he placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I am a man of ducks and dadness. Not keeping track of every soul that drops into Hell. Do you have any idea just how many of you die a day? A lot. Too many. Just. Please get better at staying alive, I beg you."

You deadpan at him before shaking your head with a sigh. "Well, do you at least know how to get me out of the digital plane? I'd like to actually eat food or let my feet touch the ground o-or sleep in a bed!"

"Uhh," Lucifer laughed nervously. "Yeaaaah, no. Nope. Sorry uh, no. Technology isn't something I really know anything about. I'd love to help but uh, yeah... no."

You groan, obviously disappointed in his answer as you flop over to the side and let your frustration win in the moment. You run a hand down your face and look up at the great devil of Hell with a sigh.

"Do you at least have any idea why I'm in Hell and not Heaven?"

Lucifer hummed, squinting at you as he ran a history check on your soul. It took a lot longer to find a reason than he expected, but then he finally landed on it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "Looks like you ate the last slice of birthday cake in the fridge back in your college days."

Your jaw drops, for a couple of reasons. The top reason should have been that such a little thing damned your soul for eternity. However, your priorities were a bit skewed. Which became transparently obvious as you exclaimed, "Excuse me?! It was MY birthday cake!"

"Yeah, but they called dibs," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh. "Heaven takes dibs very seriously. And as you should know by now, I don't make the rules."

The powerful demon grumbled like a child as you recovered from the absolute bullshit that was your afterlife. It wasn't until you'd sat back up that you looked past Lucifer and finally noticed his room.

"Why the fuck are there so many ducks?"

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #i guess??#vox x reader #digital pet

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digitalsymbiote · 9 months ago

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The Solar Sprint

You ever heard of the Cannonball Run? It was a thing back on earth, back before corpo wars. It was an unsanctioned race across a continent. Folks would trick out cars with extra fuel tanks, police scanners, the works, and just burn their way from one ocean to the other. Driving for something like a day straight, avoiding cops all the way, and only stopping to refuel. Kinda wild, don’t you think? A test of speed and stamina, seeing how hard you could really push your vehicle.

That’s what the Solar Sprint started out as, you know. First time someone ran it, the Jovian blockade was still up. They blew right past the military lines, their mech too fast for any of those combat frames to catch. It was big news at the time, everyone thought it was some secret R.O.M. tech built to break the blockade. Turned out it was just some wrench-head who wanted to see how fast they could get from Mercury to Neptune. The crazy fucker actually did it too, straight shot from the solar collection station on Mercury, all the way to the NDS Research outpost. The scientists there nearly shit themselves when the Runner went blasting past their observatory like that. Can’t imagine they saw any frames out there that weren’t clunky research models before then, especially with the blockade still up.

There’s still footage of the first sprint up on the Net if you look. Some cargo hauler caught footage of the Runner nearly side-swipping his freight ship between Earth and Venus. There was a leaked clip of them breaking the Jovian blockade too, but you might be hard pressed to find that one these days. runners sometimes carry hard copies though, so if you run into the right people you might be able to see it.

It became a whole thing, y’know? Kind of a fuck you to the corps, the wars, all of it. Building frames in a different way, not just for blowing each other up. Was a kind of creative revolution, an expression of freedom. Corps can’t keep us down, yeah? Something like a thousand runners tried it over the next couple years. Not all of em made it; some of em got caught by the blockade, some of em their frames couldn’t handle the trek. But enough of em made it that it started to become a real competition. Who could make the sprint in the fastest time? Folks posted on forums about crazy ideas they were coming up with for propellants, aerodynamics, you name it. Gearheads across the net had a brand new obsession to pour over.

Soon enough though, the corps caught on, realized it was easier to sanction the thing than to try and stop people from doing it. Enough cargo freighters crashed, enough blockades ran, it became more profitable to make an event out of the thing. The Sprint lost some of it’s luster after that. Speed frames plastered with sponsorships and built with corpo parts didn’t really capture the energy of the original run. The yearly Sprint is technically open to public teams, but any self respecting Runner isn’t gonna attempt it during sanctioned times. Kinda defeats the purpose of it all if they clear the shipping lanes and wait for optimal conditions, right?

Every once in a while though, you might spot somebodies custom frame sitting in orbit around the solar collection station. And who knows? They might be the next crazy wrench-head to break that record.

#cybernetic dreams #mechposting #mecha #mechs #mech pilots #writing #microfiction #short story

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sidekick-hero · 11 months ago

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steddie | rating: t | wc: 2.345 | tags: au, rockstar!eddie, drummer!steve, onesided enemies to lovers, part of our upcoming fic Pickup Note | art credit: @firefly-party

Eddie's living his dream, literally. Ever since his mom danced him around the living room to the sounds of Muddy Waters and Jimmy Hendrix, he has wanted to be a rock star. 20 years later, he made it.

So why is there such a sour taste in his mouth when they stand in front of their cheering audience, bowing and clapping with them? Why does the sight of Harrington throwing his drumsticks into the crowd turn his smile into a frown before he can stop himself?

He knows he's being childish. But knowing something has never helped him much in suppressing those irrational feelings that bubble up inside of him until they spill over and make a mess. Eddie's alignment has always been chaotic, so at least he's trying to make it a chaotic good one.

Lately, though, it feels like he's failed at that, and it's all Harrington's fault.

The guy just had to waltz in and take Gareth's place, with the other guys falling all over themselves with praise and gratitude when Harrington should be grateful. After all, he gets to go on a world tour with the most talked about newcomer metal band right now, when the biggest venues he played before were the local bars and sports halls.

But no, Steve Harrington didn't even have to audition, not really. Not when Gareth's boyfriend had vouched for him being a great drummer and an even greater guy, and Gareth, being the love-struck idiot that he was, had just said "Yes, my love, of course, anything you say" or some equally lovey-dovey shit like that. And now Eddie had to endure the guy's company for three whole months.

"Are you alright, man?" Jeff's hand on his shoulder is grounding and his deep voice pulls Eddie back from his gloomy spiral. He gives his oldest friend a smile that lacks the usual Munson charm, but is still genuine enough for Jeff to return it with one of his own.

"Yeah, 'm fine, just tired," he only half-lies. It's been a long day, hell, a long week. Add to that giving his all on stage, jumping up and down and singing his heart out while letting his sweetheart sing for him and thousands of fans, and he's bound to be exhausted as soon as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

Jeff and Grant don't seem to fare any better, coming down from the post-concert high almost as fast as Eddie and crashing as soon as they get to their tour bus. The only one who seems to be full of restless energy is Steve, who can't seem to stop moving, arms and hands and fingers acting like there's still a drum kit to be played. Eddie swears he can feel him vibrating with it and it sets his teeth on edge.

He's a hypocrite, and he knows it. Hell, the Eddie of a year ago would be out partying right now, dancing and drinking and fucking the night away, high on adrenaline and endorphins and maybe something else if the mood struck. But he left that Eddie at the Crossroads, along with his addiction and most of his anxiety disorder.

While Grant just grunts his good night before falling face first into his bunk bed, Jeff goes over to Harrington to check in on him as well. Eddie remembers the one time Jeff tried to play a DnD character that was anything but good. It was painful to watch and Eddie was almost glad when his Demogorgon killed Jeff's character and the rest of the party and they were able to start a new campaign.

If there's anyone on earth who's intrinsically good, it's Jeff Robinson.

Jeff walks over to Steve and pats him on the back. "Great job, man. You were on fire up there. Can't believe you learned that whole setlist in two weeks."

Steve glows from the praise, a bright smile lighting up his whole face before he ducks his head in what looks like genuine bashfulness. Eddie snorts at the thought and Steve's eyes flick over to him, his smile fading.

Harrington looks hurt and Eddie really wonders why. Why should he care what Eddie thinks of him? It's not like they're friends or anything. The way Jeff is glaring at him, Eddie guesses he still needs to apologize to the guy, but just as he opens his mouth to formulate some half-hearted apology at best, Steve turns away from him and squeezes Jeff's arm.

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I think I'll head to bed, if you don't mind. Get some sleep."

"Yeah, of course. It's been a long day, get some shut-eye. But you really did a great job, man. I'm glad we found such a kickass stand-in for Gareth on such short notice. You saved our asses."

Eddie bites his tongue so hard he thinks he tastes blood.

It's actually Steve who says what Eddie is thinking. "Are you kidding me, man? I'm the one who's glad you let me come and play with you. I mean, today? Being in front of thousands of people, doing what I love? I've never felt so... fuck, I don't even know. Myself? Happy? Alive?" He laughs, but it sounds tentative, and Eddie can see his cheeks glowing red even in the dim night light of their bus. Steve rubs a hand across his neck in obvious embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Jeff laughs, amused. "Don't worry, it's the concert jitters. Eddie wouldn't stop talking for hours the first time we played in front of more than maybe five drunks back home."

"Har-har," Eddie laughs sarcastically, but there's still a smile on his face that takes the sting out of it. Those were good times, before things got complicated. Before fame and money and being on the road all the time had made them complicated. "I'm gonna hit the hay. Night, Jeff. Harrington."

They return his goodnight wishes with one of their own and Eddie is glad that he already changed into his sweatpants and hoodie backstage. He slips under the covers and turns on his side, facing the wall, listening to Grant's snoring and the sounds of Steve and Jeff getting ready. Eddie knows that sleep won't come anytime soon. He's been an insomniac for as long as he can remember, sleep as absent from most of his life as his father. He has learned to make do with the bare minimum, catching a few hours here and there whenever he can.

Tonight it's Steve Harrington that keeps him awake. Or rather, it is his thoughts and feelings about the man. It's not the first night this happens, but it's the first time he really wonders if maybe he is the asshole after all. Steve's words run through his mind on a loop and every time he closes his eyes he sees the way his smile died on his face, replaced by that kicked puppy dog look that tugs at Eddie's heart no matter how hard he fights it.

Maybe he should at least try to be nicer to the guy.

Sure, he is everything Eddie hated in school: a preppy ex-jock who got everything he ever wanted with his pretty face and his daddy's money. No one ever called him a fuck-up, Eddie is sure of that. While Eddie had to fight for every single thing, even his life, Steve Harrington just got a place in the band and the hearts of their fans and the respect of his bandmates with a few flutters of his long eyelashes. It's true, he's good, Eddie begrudgingly admits. He has found himself staring at Harrington more than once tonight while the man has been playing, mesmerized by the passionate yet easy way he has mastered every single song on their setlist.

Eddie's so lost in his own thoughts that he misses the bus pulling up, only jolted out of his reverie when he hears someone get out of his bed and walk to the front door of the bus.

It's Harrington, talking to the driver. Eddie checks the clock on his phone and is surprised to see that it's already four in the morning. When did that happen? Maybe he fell asleep without realizing it.

Up front, the driver explains that they're stopping here for a few hours. There was an accident further up the highway and the traffic jam is so bad that the driver decided to take his break here. Steve asks if it's okay if he goes outside for a while and Eddie catches himself smiling at the question.

He wonders if Harrington can't sleep, just like he can't. Maybe he's still thinking about Eddie's reaction earlier...no, that would be ridiculous, right? Still, the thought sits heavy in his stomach and after another five minutes he gives up and rolls out of bed to follow Harrington outside. On the way he grabs two hoodies and pulls one over himself.

The cold night air hits him hard as he stumbles down the stairs, but it feels good after a second or two of adjustment.

"Can't sleep?" A voice to his right asks, and sure enough, it's Harrington, leaning against the side of the bus, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

"I was going to ask you the same question." Eddie replies, walking over to Steve. "Here." Steve stares wordlessly at the offered hoodie, making no move to take it. "It won't bite, I promise. I doubt you can play with your hands frozen."

That does the trick and he finally reaches out to take the black garment from Eddie and pulls it over his head. It's a little long on the arms, but otherwise it fits well, maybe a little tight around the shoulders. Of course, the guy has broader shoulders than he does, Eddie thinks, not really able to muster much annoyance.

"Thanks," Steve says in a quiet voice, giving him a strange look. And then, as quickly as if he were ripping off a bandage, "I just can't get to sleep. I tried everything, counted backwards from one hundred, counted sheep, did that weird breathing thing Robin showed me, tried reading... nothing. I'm so fucking exhausted, but I just can't sleep."

Eddie hums, knowing the feeling only too well. Harrington sounds on the verge of tears and maybe it's the lingering guilt, the memory of his own racing thoughts, all circling around the man in front of him. Whatever it is, something compels Eddie to say, "I don't have a solution for you. I don't sleep more than three, maybe four hours a night. But I can show you something that might make it more bearable, if you'd like."

Steve looks at him and for the first time Eddie allows himself to look back. To let their eyes meet and lock.

"I'd like that."

Clapping his hands, Eddie abruptly turns and stalks to the back of the bus. When he doesn't hear footsteps following him, he turns and calls out, "You comin' or what?" and grins as Steve almost trips in his haste to catch up.

When they reach the back of the bus, Eddie pushes on a panel that is somehow hidden under the license plate. A small metal shape protrudes from where he just pushed, and when he pulls on it, it turns out to be a metal ladder.

"What are you -"

"Patience, young Padawan," Eddie admonishes with a grin, secretly pleased with Steve's reaction. He's kind of proud of his little secret hideout.

Placing the ladder against the back of the bus, Eddie begins to climb up the stairs to the deck, and when he's at the top, he turns and reaches down for Steve to follow. "Do you trust me?"

Steve looks up at him, his eyes bright in the light of the stars and the moon shining down on them. "Yes."

"I can show you the world," Eddie begins to sing, once again letting his impulsive thoughts dictate his actions. The song came to him the second he looked down at Steve.

Steve comes up the stairs and grabs Eddie's hand, laughing. "Oh my God, are you singing a Disney song?"

"You're the one who recognizes it. I bet you even know what movie it's from, don't you, big boy?"

Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway, as if he's secretly charmed by Eddie's antics. "Does that make me the princess?"

"And me the ruggedly handsome thief with a heart of gold," Eddie agrees, pleased that Steve got his reference.

Steve snorts, and it shouldn't sound cute, but oh, does it, his nose crinkling adorably. "Yeah, whatever. As long as this isn’t your flying carpet. I don't trust the structural integrity of this thing to actually fly."

"Big, big words. You sound like Henderson."

"Oh God, don't tell him, I'll never hear the end of it."

Eddie taps his chin thoughtfully. "I'll...think about it," he finally settles on, grinning playfully at Harrington. Silence falls over them, and for the first time since Steve walked into their rehearsal studio, it doesn't feel awkward or hostile. In fact, it's nice to share this space up here with someone.

Eddie sits down at the edge of the bus and Steve joins him, sitting maybe a foot away from him in a slight sprawl, his head tilted back and his mouth slightly open as his eyes take in the clear night sky above them. They're far enough out of town to actually see the harmonious arrangement and movement of the stars in the cosmos, forming a celestial symphony that Eddie has often tried and failed to capture in his songs.

Tonight, however, his eyes are caught by another ethereal sight.

"It's so beautiful," Steve whispers, as if sharing a secret with Eddie. "It's so vast and so beautiful, it’s almost frightening, don’t you think?"

"It is," Eddie agrees, never taking his eyes off Steve. So frightening.

They sit there until the sun slowly rises in the east, Steve's eyes on the sky and Eddie's on his own enigma.

This is a sneak peek from @firefly-party and me for our upcoming project Pickup Note to celebrate our dearest friend and collaborator's @thefreakandthehair birthday. Lex, you are our MVP and we are so happy to call you our friend! We love you and we hope you have the best day, week, month and year, because you deserve it 💜💜

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanart #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my writing #steddie fic #rockstar eddie munson #drummer steve harrington #pickup note

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munsonkitten · 8 months ago

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Sub Eddie Week day 3: Brat Eddie (with spanking & daddy Steve) | Read the full fic on AO3 [Explicit] @subeddieweek

Eddie gets into this mindset when he’s on stage. This headspace where he’s the most important person in the world because everyone’s singing his words and screaming his name. He’s a fucking diva, Steve won’t even deny that. He struts and he moves a certain way and he does whatever the hell he wants whenever he wants to do it.

And he gets a little mean. Just a tiny bit. Steve would call him bratty, but everyone else would probably say mean.

Steve has him in the dress tonight, skimpy underwear underneath, plugged up and ready to go the second he gets off stage because Eddie gets like this. He gets in this headspace, he floats up into the clouds, and Steve’s there to make sure he comes back down to earth gently, makes sure he doesn’t fly too close to the sun and come crashing down.

He makes sure Eddie doesn’t say anything he regrets when he gets off stage each night.

That’s kind of how this all started — Eddie had been high on god knows what, he’d been drinking, he’d been too fucking self centered, and Steve just… Snapped, really. He snapped because Eddie demanded another drink after a set and almost made someone cry.

He told Eddie to get his shit together. He told him to apologize.

That made Eddie stop dead in his tracks, and his eyes cleared, and he slumped a little bit, stumbled into Steve a little bit, and Steve steadied him because that’s what he does, and Eddie apologized, and then he turned and apologized to the person he yelled at, and after that — well, after that, they figured out Eddie responds well to Steve.

They’d been fooling around for a few weeks at that point. Nothing serious, just… Two guys in close quarters who trust each other, getting off together. They’d both been realizing things about themselves, both of them having only been with girls before that, both of them realizing it was never as good doing anything with girls as it is to get a simple handjob from a guy, and well…

It wasn’t hard to figure everything out. Their system for before shows and afterwards.

When Eddie needs to come back down to earth and Steve’s the one who gets him there.

Steve’s the one who really runs the show, after all.

Just as expected, Eddie takes a different guitar halfway through the set and he’s not entirely nice about it. Steve lets him go this time because now isn’t the time to remind Eddie who he belongs to. Eddie belongs to the crowd right now.

The crowd belongs to Eddie.

Steve just needs to wait, watch as his boyfriend acts like a whore for nearly twenty thousand people, watch as Eddie soars, his fingers dancing on his guitar, as he wails into his microphone.

He watches from his spot side stage, and he waits. He waits until the moment he needs to reclaim Eddie, and not a moment later.

The last notes of the set fall silent, but the venue lights stay dim. The crowd screams for an encore, and Eddie’s running around backstage trying to keep his energy up. Steve forces a bottle of water into his hand and makes him drink a few sips of it.

Eddie rolls his eyes, tugs anxiously at the hem of his dress, making sure it covers everything because he won’t have his guitar during the encore because he goes down into the crowd, standing on the floor as everyone parts around him, and sometimes he stage dives, but not tonight because Steve told him he can’t. No one can touch him tonight, not when he’s dressed the way he is with barely anything on underneath. He’s not flashing his dick to every poor sucker who gets stuck underneath him while he crowd surfs.

Before Eddie goes back out, Steve drags him in for a kiss, hidden in the safety of the darkness. They’re not exactly open about their relationship, the world isn’t quite ready for full openness, but they don’t exactly hide it either. Steve knows he’s allowed to do this, and Eddie needs it right now or he’s going to jump out of his skin.

He feels the moan against his lips more than he hears it, a sound just for him in the middle of a roaring crowd. He squeezes Eddie’s hip possessively, pulling him in even closer.

“Easy there, daddy,” Eddie says with a smirk. “They’re not done with me just yet.”

Steve’s blood burns red hot in his veins. That makes him want to take Eddie back to the dressing room and have his way with him right now.

But he can’t, so he just turns Eddie around by his shoulders and playfully smacks his ass to send him away.

Then Eddie’s off, running back on stage while the band kicks off their final song.

Hometown shows always get Eddie extra revved up. Something about being so loved in a place so close to where he was so hated. Steve knows assholes from high school are out in the crowd pretending they loved Eddie all along, telling stories to strangers about how Eddie was back then.

It makes Eddie feel bigger than the entire world.

When the last notes ring out and Eddie climbs back on stage and the lights come up, Steve’s there. He’s there to catch Eddie by the arm and drag him down the hallway to his dressing room. Everyone else has instructions on packing away equipment, everyone knows to give Steve and Eddie enough time to sort things out. They know not to touch any of Eddie’s guitars, even the ones that Steve already put away in cases when they were done being used for the night.

They know that Eddie will be useless after all of this, that he’ll follow Steve around like a lost puppy while Steve packs up amps and guitar cases and makes sure everything else is in order before they head to the next city.

“Stupid,” Eddie grumbles as Steve pulls him down the hallway backstage. “Fucking. Ex. Why the fuck — no, it’s — it’s fine. Maybe it’s not fine because why the fuck does she think — no. No, it’s fine.”

He’s always muttering about something or another after a show, and Steve knows he just needs to forget about everything, to be able to let it go. Steve likes when he gets like this — all mouthy and annoyed. It means they get to have fun, that Eddie will be mouthy and talk back to him and give Steve more to work with. It means he gets to put his hands on Eddie and make him fucking whine.

“You forgot who you belong to,” Steve tells him the second they’re behind a locked door.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie taunts. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Gonna have to remind you,” Steve whispers before pushing Eddie up against the door and crashing their lips together.

Eddie’s reaction is to push back, to shove Steve over to one of the old couches up against the wall, but Steve doesn’t let him. He pins Eddie where he is, a knee shoved between his thighs, hands on his wrists above his head against the door.

“I don’t think so, baby,” Steve warns. “Need you to remember.”

“C’mon, then,” Eddie says. “Get on with it.”

“Be patient,” Steve says. But he knows Eddie can’t be. It’s why he’s in a dress and just a pair of panties that can easily be pulled to the side — because they both need the easiest access they can get, no time for extra constraints tonight.

They learned their lesson last time they were in Indiana, when Eddie decided to wear fishnet tights, underwear, and a pair of ripped up jeans. Only the jeans made it through that encounter, and that’s only because, try as he might, Steve can’t rip through denim with his bare hands.

Eddie still pushes back against Steve, but he’s half hearted about it, already slipping down where Steve likes him.

“C’mon,” Eddie grunts, pushing his dick down onto Steve’s thigh. The dress is riding up, showing Eddie’s cock straining inside his underwear as it hardens against Steve’s jeans.

“Go over to the counter,” Steve tells him, releasing Eddie from his grip. “Bend over.”

“Make me,” Eddie challenges.

And so it goes like it always does — Steve picks up Eddie around the waist and carries him over to the counter. He shoves him down over it, pushing the dress up over Eddie’s ass to put him on full display. He tugs the black panties up by the waist band, making them disappear into his crack. Eddie whines, and Steve knows the plug just got pushed even deeper inside him.

He’s beautiful like this and Steve tells him. Scars and tattoos on pale skin. Steve thumbs at a scar on his back, slides over to the edge of a tattoo on Eddie’s side.

“So pretty,” Steve says again. He lightly grazes his fingers down, presses at the base of the plug inside Eddie.

Eddie jolts beneath his touch. He makes a noise of protest when Steve draws his fingers away, and he sighs in relief when Steve tugs the underwear down. A light tap to Eddie’s thigh has him stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, automatic in his movements.

“Aw, look at you,” Steve coos. He can’t hide the slight laughter in his voice. “So sweet and obedient for me.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie shoots back, looking at Steve over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes. The words aren’t all there, like Eddie’s forcing the front today, like he wants to give up the performance and just let Steve have him.

Read the rest on AO3

#steddie #my fics #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steve/eddie #stranger things #subeddieweek #rockstar eddie munson

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doodlemcnoodlee · 5 months ago

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Here’s some random headcannons I’ve been thinking about <3

Sorry for how long this got -_-

Building off the Neptune shapeshifter headcannon- Neptune is really an abomination of different sea creatures into one, kind of like a biblically correct angels, Uranus ones bagged Neptune to show him, Neps real form and was terrified of him for a good few thousands of years.

Mercury has a lot of burn marks covering is body because of the solar flares as well as at lest a few sunburns from his closeness to the sun

Mercury’s wings aren’t as fluffy or healthy as they before the sun got hotter

Venus used to have fish ears like people give Neptune from when he had life but their now dried out and shrivelled up after he lost it

Uranus used to carve asteroids in the past before paint was invented, now Earth is his art dealer and Uranus paints him pictures in return

Uranus used to make weapons in the past, he still had a few of them, but most are lost to time (aka found by the dwarf planets who now used them in their DND campaigns)

Neptune memory get better the longer his out of his orbit and can go on long rants about random science facts, Uranus loves listening to Nep while he paints, it feels the silence and gets rid of any bad thoughts Uranus might have

Neptune has a seashell that is used to worn the other planets if their is a intruder that Neptune can’t beat alone (building off Neptune being the protector of the solar system)

Neptune had become a bit of a urban legend among some of the planets and moons since hardly anyone every sees him or his moons (they like keeping to themselves) and lots thought he was just a myth made up to keep them inline, that was until Uranus managed to convince him and his moons to come out of their orbit.

Neptune has barely any social skills but he means the best and is the nicest among the planets

Saturn doesn’t like getting close to his moons (like getting to know their names) because he knows their just going to crash into him one day and he doesn’t want to go through the pain of losing a moon she was close to again

This is someone else’s headcannon, I’ll link if I can find the book but Titan used to be X’d moon but Saturn took him as a trophy after they ejected X, this is why Saturn can only remember Titans name,

In the past Saturn didn’t really see Titan as a moon but a object that’s meant to be showed off to others (his was just a war trophy to show Saturn won)

Neptune leaves all his moons with Triton so they don’t have to deal with the loneliness of his orbit and won’t go insane like Neptune did

Neptune teaches his moons everything he knows so they are pretty smart

Uranus is almost always covered in paint, even his clothing isn’t spared from the paint

Uranus made all his own clothing and has let Neptune colour onto is pants, which had only resulted in little smiley faces all over his pants and face

Both Neptune and Uranus’ moons love to sleep in their hoods since they have fur lining it, Uranus’ moons aren’t the biggest fan of him but their not going to give up a soft place to sleep, you don’t come across fluff in the solar system all that often

Neptune and Uranus would wear summer clothes 24/7 if it wasn’t for Jupiter and Saturn forcing them to wear their coats (the fluff helps)

Uranus has a leg brace from the moon that crashed into him as well as chronic pain (the reason for his tilt)

Uranus had always gotten sick more easily compared to the other giants which didn’t help when his moon crashed into him

The giants don’t know most of rocky planets, they have meet Proto in the past but now Earth can’t visit them nor can they come close to the rocky planets without putting them in danger ( they have to be really careful during suns competition)

Earth only shears the good things about having life never the bad so most planets have a false idea of what it’s like, making Venus even more jealous not realizing how much pain Earth goes through

Earth has a lot of health issues directly related to his Earthlings, this includes chronic headaches from the oil drills, poor lungs from the factory gasses, stomach aces from pollution (mostly from his waters) he also has chronic pain from the wars and the asteroids that killed his dinosaurs

Earth is incredibly worried that his Earthlings will find a better home (like earth 2.0) which is why his really defensive to other planets/moons with water

Earth’s personal is derailed a lot from his Earthlings and is extremely paranoid because of them

Thanks for coming to a late night rambling with Thunder Rose <33

I’m very sleep deprived lol

#solarballs #solarhumans #solarballs earth #solarballs planets #solarballs headcanon #solarballs neptune #solarballs uranus #solarballs saturn #solarballs jupiter #solarballs mercury #just a lot of headcanons #:D

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mysticstronomy · 1 month ago

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DID LIFE BEGIN IN SPACE??

Blog#449

Wednesday, October 30th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Life, for all its complexities, has a simple commonality: It spreads. Plants, animals and bacteria have colonized almost every nook and cranny of our world.

But why stop there? Some scientists speculate that biological matter may have proliferated across the cosmos itself, transported from planet to planet on wayward lumps of rock and ice. This idea is known as panspermia, and it carries a profound implication: Life on Earth may not have originated on our planet.

In theory, panspermia is fairly simple. Astronomers know that impacts from comets or asteroids on planets will sometimes eject debris with enough force to catapult rocks into space. Some of those space rocks will, in turn, crash into other worlds. A few rare meteorites on Earth are known to have come from Mars, likely in this fashion.

“You can imagine small astronauts sitting inside this rock, surviving the journey,” says Avi Loeb, an astrophysicist at Harvard University and director of the school’s Institute for Theory and Computation. “Microbes could potentially move from one planet to another, from Mars to Earth, from Earth to Venus.”

(You may recognize Loeb’s name from his recent book Extraterrestrial: The First Sign of Intelligent Life Beyond Earth, which garnered headlines and criticism from astronomers for its claim that our solar system was recently visited by extraterrestrials.)

Loeb has authored a number of papers probing the mechanics of panspermia, looking at, among other things, how the size and speed of space objects might affect their likelihood of transferring life.

While Loeb still thinks it’s more likely that life originated on Earth, he says his work has failed to rule out the possibility that it came from somewhere else in space.

Meanwhile, recent experiments have suggested that earthly organisms can survive in space, at least for a little while. Experiments aboard the EXPOSE-E facility at the International Space Station have subjected bacteria, lichens and plant seeds to the extreme cold and radiation of space for anywhere from a few days to over a year. Some bacteria and other organisms were able to survive the journey, including tardigrades, ultra-hardy animals found everywhere from Arctic ice to the deep ocean.

If an asteroid or comet is large enough, microbes could be frozen deep within, Loeb says. That could protect them from radiation and the extreme temperatures that turn meteors into fireballs. After they explode onto the surface of a new world, these extraterrestrial colonists could begin to thrive.

In other solar systems, panspermia could be even more likely to occur than in our own. For example, the seven tightly packed planets of the TRAPPIST-1 system, discovered in 2016, might be ideal for life to planet-hop.

If we find life there one day, Loeb says, we should pay attention to whether it all looks suspiciously similar. He thinks two neighboring planets with similar biological systems would be a sure sign that life had traveled between them at some point.

Loeb also hypothesizes that panspermia could occur even between distant star systems. Interstellar visitors, like the recently observed space object ‘Oumuamua and the comet Borisov, could spread life from system to system.

Such a process could even begin on our own planet. In a paper published in the journal Life, Loeb looked at the possibility that asteroids or comets might graze the Earth’s atmosphere, dozens of miles above the surface, picking up microorganisms floating high in the sky, before heading out on interstellar journeys. He estimates that, though rare, a few such instances have likely occurred during Earth’s lifetime.

Even if an asteroid flyby did pick up a few microbes from Earth, it’s highly unlikely that they would survive the journey, much less land on another planet with conditions similar to ours. But, then again, we can’t necessarily rule it out.

Originally published on https://www.astronomy.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, November 2nd, 2024)

"DID TIME OR SPACE EXIST FIRST??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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milolunde · 1 month ago

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Every wish (and rule + misc. magic) in Fairly Oddparents: A New Wish

Edit: Some wishes and notable magic might be missing or misrepresented. Now that the show is on Netflix, I'll revise the list and double check anything I misheard when I have time.

Season 1

Episode 1, Fly!

Hazel: I wish Antony were here to help me unpack. And keep me talking to a bunch of rocks. (no fairies)

Hazel: I’d like to wish for… unlimited wishes! (Rocktilda is not a fairy)

(Not wishes: Cosmo poofs up a jar of pennies; A can of condensed milk; Wanda poofs a venus fly trap; Cosmo, a portrait of him and Wanda…Cosmo shrinks Angela’s book… Wanda rebuilds a shelf…Cosmo fixes a crack in the wall then covers it with a picture of himself; Wanda replaces the picture. Wanda poofs the door open/poofs it out of existence… they magic up random mail. Wanda teleports in front of the apartment building door. Cosmo crashes into her and that opens the door, I guess.)

Hazel: I wish (Wanda: Uh oh, she said the magic word.) Hazel: I wish! (Cosmo: She said it again! Wanda: You know what happens when we hear the magic word!) Hazel: I wish I could just fly to Antony myself! (They both poof into fairies; their wands uncontrollably turn Hazel into a fly… Wanda: The intensity of your wish activated our magic)

(Cosmo makes a trail of fries back to the apartment then traps Fly-Hazel in a jar)

(Trying to turn Hazel back into a human, Cosmo turns a plant, a toaster, and himself, into Hazel… possibly other things off screen. Note: He hits his wand after a few times and says, “Why can’t I work this thing?”)

Hazel: I wish I was human Hazel again

(Cosmo: We have a spell on the front door that lets us choose what world we go out into [Fairy World or Earth])

Episode 2a, The Department of Magical Violations

Hazel has already made 99 wishes and her 100th wish was “on Cosmo and Wanda” for a “Fun Fantasy” where Cosmo is a princess in distress by Wanda, an evil seahorse, and Hazel- a knight- has to rescue him.

Hazel: I wish we were back at my house. Thanks for granting my fun wish

Hazel: Ok… I wish- oh no- mind break! Brain bad! THE PRESSURE! (Wish fart)

Jorgen: For this first trial, I am stirpping Cosmo of his wings and his magic and YOU have to make a wish to save his puny life before the time runs out (Jorgen poofs up a giant tower) Hazel: I wish Cosmo had a parachute! No, wait… I wish he had a trampoline instead- is that better?.. I-I wish for a mattress!

Jorgen: You must get everyone dancing or else… Hazel: I wish for a DJ- No! A robot DJ that plays mumble rap- no, beethoven, no! Death Metal!

Hazel: I know exactly what I want. Antony and I used to joke about how silly this bike would look if it were real. Ok, I wish for one of those… those old-timey bicycles? It’s old and it’s got a big wheel and a little wheel and it’s mixed with one of those bikes that Antony likes to ride.

Cookie: Don’t worry Hazel, Cookie knows what you’re wishing for (a fancy car; this is not what Hazel was wishing for)

Da Rules: A child must always get what they want.

Cookie: Go ahead and wish for something. Here’s the latest doll./You want the latest makeup trend? Girl, Boot-IFY yourself!/ Of course! Cookies! All kids love cookies.

Hazel: I wish for a thing that exists but doesn’t. Oh no, I can't think of the name. It's, like, big, but also small. (Wish fart)

Hazel: I wish Cosmo and Wanda were my Fairy Godparents!

Hazel: Without all the pressure, I remember my wish! Penny Farthing Dirt Bike! (Cosmo made a Penny Farting Dirt Bike for himself)

Episode 2b, Teacher’s Pal

(Cosmo and Wanda poof a helmet and safety gear onto Hazel then become the wheels of a skateboard so they can steer it)

Hazel: I wish I could be friends with my teachers (Decreases the teachers’ maturity)

Hazel: I sure wish this (Teacher’s breakroom) were a place for a child

Hazel: I wish everyday could be as fun as today was

Hazel: I wish the teachers were back to normal

Episode 3a, A Dinosaur in Dimmadelphia

Hazel: I wish to see a live dinosaur

Hazel: I wish Barry (the dinosaur) could speak English

Hazel: I wish people weren’t afraid of (Barry)

Hazel: I wish Barry got a job in a dinosaur movie

Hazel: I wish (Barry) had a job at the Dimmsonian museum

Hazel: I wish Barry had a job working with his hands

Hazel: Electric Light Ice Cream for everyone

Episode 3b, Fearless

Hazel: I wish Jasmine was fearless

Hazel: I wish Jasmine was afraid again

Hazel: I wish they were gone (Doesn’t work; fear must be faced once released)

Hazel: I wish for a Hazel stand-in so no one notices I’m gone

(Wanda: According to Da Rules… Fears can only be fought by the one whose fear it is)

Episode 4a, The Wellsington Hotellsington

Hazel: I wish my apartment were a five-star luxury hotel

Hazel: Cosmo, I wish you were a bellhop

Hazel: Wanda I wish you were a concierge

Hazel: I wish I had a security system to keep my mom and dad locked away all night. (Bank vault door and two guard chihuahuas)

Hazel: I wish I had a chicken nugget machine, a giant emu, and a helicopter to call my own

Hazel: I wish you two (Tina Churner and Camera Man) would leave me alone (sends them to the moon…)

Hazel: I wish everything were back to normal

Episode 4b, 1500 Minutes of Fame

Hazel: I wish everyone in the school knew me. I wish to be famous. (Cosmo + Wanda: Fifteen minutes of fame, coming up! [this summons Father Time])

Hazel: Well, whoever’s job it is, then, I wish I was famous at my school! (She gets 1500 minutes- 25 hours)

Hazel: I wish Father TIme was here

Hazel, to Father Time: I need you to end my fifteen minutes of fame early. (Nick of Time shows up and turns Hazel’s regular minutes into New York Minutes)

Hazel, in song: I wish I knew more New York-y things

Episode 5a, 28 Puddings Later

Hazel: I wish everyone had an unlimited supply of School Pudding

Hazel: I wish the pudding was being served after the class picture

Hazel: I wish everyone had an unlimited supply of broccoli pudding

Episode 5b, Trial and Hair-ror

Hazel: I wish my hair had spirit (brings her hair to life. Her name is Diana the Diva. Cosmo thought she wanted her hair to have A spirit)

Hazel: Silk scarf lasso, please

Hazel: Release the hair gel!

(Hazel wins Most Spirited Hair, this somehow isn’t cheating)

Episode 6a, Weird Science

Hazel: I wish my science project worked (this changes the laws of science; also somehow does not count as cheating)

Hazel: I wish everything were back to normal (Wanda: Can it wait, squirt? I’m busy transcending my body. [even when they do cast their magic it doesn’t work])

Hazel: I wish the laws of science were back to normal

Episode 6b, Mystery She Wished

Hazel: I wish I could solve a mystery as a genuine Gumshoe (Cosmo turns her into a shoe stuck in gum. Wanda turns her into a detective)

Hazel: Wish over, I want to be normal Hazel! (Wanda: You wished to be a detective like the ones you saw on TV,. None of them used magic to solve the case. You’re stuck until you solve the mystery.)

Episode 7a, Prime Meridian Love

Hazel: I wish I could go to the dance with Kennueth

Hazel: Oops, I wish Kennueth could breathe air

(Hazel: Why aren’t you hiding? He can’t know about magic. Wanda: Actually, since he’s a fictional character and not a real person Da Rule doesn’t apply)

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish Kennueth had a cool outfit for the dance.

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish we were at the docks

Episode 7b, Stanky Danky

Hazel: I just wish people wouldn’t be such trash monsters. (Cosmo: Did I hear a wish? Wanda: I heard “trash monster” Cosmo: One Trash Monster coming up!)

Hazel: I wish Stanky could say at least a few words

Hazel: I wish this box would take me to Danky

Episode 8a, Peace of Pizza

Hazel: I wish I could convince Dev to participate in kindness day

Hazel: I wish Dev had extra milk he could spare

Hazel: I wish the Pe-Az’s had something big to carry then Dev could do a kind act by holding the door open for them

Hazel: You know, Dev, I sure wish we had some pizza for you right now

Episode 8b, A New Development

Hazel: Dev is so mean, I wish I knew why he acted like that (this pairs Dev and Hazel together for the scavenger hunt)

Episode 9, Lost and Founder’s Day

Hazel: I wish to speak to a Dimmadelphia History Expert- A Dimmastorian.

Hazel: I wish that miserable kid had a new ice cream cone

Hazel: I wish that line moved faster

Hazel: I wish that bouncy was bigger, better, and bouncier!

Dev: I wish I could stay and talk (Not a real wish and it doesn’t get granted, but he said the words so…)

Hazel: I wish the statues weren’t magic anymore (they were never magic)

Episode 10a, Cookie’s Court

(Hazel had a streak of wishes, I’m not counting the hole punches to figure out how many, and earned another fun adventure on Cosmo and Wanda… again, whatever that means. Hazel must save Coswanda rock from a meteor, then she defeats Seahorse Wanda… Hazel says she wished for a talking gut the day before; she still has it)

Hazel: I wish Ferray could talk (Jorgen grants this)

Episode 10b, Work Her Magic

Hazel: I wish I was my mom’s assistant

Hazel: Can you guys…? (Hazel stand-in at school)

Hazel: I need backup! I wish you were in the meeting with me

Hazel: I wish that everything was back to normal! And that I was a kid again!

Episode 11a, Crock to the Future

Marcus: I sure wish (AJ) was coming… Hazel: Dad said the magic word! I wish tonight was extra special for him!

Hazel: I wish Crocker stopped trying to reveal fairies! (the building is covered in a butterfly net so they have no magic… [they can still float])

Episode 11b, Battle of the Dimmsonian

Dev: I wish everyone will think I'm really cool when I get out of the helicopter!... Wait, no! I wish everyone will think I look really powerful! … no, no, no, no wait!... hahaha, I’m just messing with ya’. Now, execute my wish!

(Dev spent “all morning wishing for the perfect cupcake”)

Dev: I wish I had Viozalia’s staff

Hazel: I wish I had Viozalia’s staff!

Dev wishes for Viozalia’s staff off screen

Hazel: I wish I had the staff

Dev: I wish I had the staff

Hazel: I wish I had the staff

Dev: I wish I had the staff

Hazel, offscreen: I wish I had the staff

Dev: I wish the spirit of Viozalia would come back to life (Peri is able to do this... Marcus says it’s a “Level 9 Spector”)

Dev: Viozalia, bring this museum to life. (She gets her staff back and brings everything to life)

Peri, reading Da Rules: What to do when your godkid tries to start a ghost apocalypse… NOTHING?!

Dev and Hazel: I wish Viozalia and her spirits would return to the spirit realm! (Peri, Cosmo, and Wanda all use their magic to grant this)

Episode 12a, Patty Possum’s Party Playground

Hazel: I wish Patty Possum would come to life

Hazel: I need to unwish my wish!!! (Wanda: sorry, kiddo. We can’t grant wishes without our wands)

Episode 12b, A Date to Remember

(Hazel had Cosmo and Wanda help her with her mom and dad’s anniversary presentation)

Hazel: I wish my parents could fall in love all over again.

Hazel: I wish they were back in love (Wanda: We can do the setup but according to Da Rules only cupid can make people fall in love)

Hazel: then I wish Cupid was here

Hazel: I wish a had a microphone and piano

Episode 13, Operation Birthday Takeback

Hazel wished for a Prime Meridian Love manga that was only released underseas so she could give it to Dev for his birthday

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish for a pair of rocket boots for Dev (Dev: Why didn’t you think to get these for me, Pickle-Brained Peri? Peri: because my job is to grant you wishes. Not to read your mind.)

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I need you! Dev: Peri, get in here! (They don’t show up)

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, Peri, where the heck are you! (They still don’t show up)

Hazel: Movie night! And you know what goes great with movies? Really big ice cream!

Dev: I wish you would leave me alone! (Peri: I… As you wish, kid.)

Episode 14a, Potazel Potahzel

Hazel: I wish I could have unlimited french fries

You are what you eat is literal with magic food

Hazel: Turn me back into a human, right this minute (they have to consult Mother Nature)

Episode 14b, The Haunting of Wells House

Hazel: I wish we were on our own paranormal investigation show

Hazel: I wish there was no fairy evidence on the video

Episode 15a, Lost in Fairy World

(Hazel still has a talking gut)

Dev: I want to go to Fairy World! At all costs! (Cosmo: sorry, Dev, Fairy World is reserved for special occasions. Like being tested by Jorgen in the Wish Trials, being tested by Jorgen in a giant cage match, or being tested by Jorgen in a- well, you get it… Peri: You’re not his Fairy Godparents! I am! I’ll handle this. Ahem. Dev, Fairy World is reserved for special occasions, like being tested by Jorgen, and as your Fairy Godparent I cannot let you go.)

Dev: Fine. I wish to go to Fairy World and not be tested by Jorgen (Peri: You can’t do that! Cosmo and Wanda: Aw, our son’s first wish loophole!)

Hazel: My gut is telling me I wish to go, too!

Dev: That’s where I want to go! The one place I can’t! The Hocus-Pogo-Stick or whatever! (Peri: Don’t worry, Hazel, it’s off limits t- Cosmo: IT’S OFF LIMITS TO HUMANS! <3 Peri: Yes. Thanks dad. And y- Wanda: You need a magic wand to travel Fairy World and only fairies have those.)

Dev: Well, I WISH I had a wand! (Peri: Uhm. I can’t do that. Can I do that? I’m not gonna do that.)

Dev: To the Hiccus-Pickle-Star or whatever. (Dev uses Peri’s wand, it transports them to StarDome)

Hazel makes a wand and casts rainbows. Dev makes a ladybug car. Dev poofs Hazel into a toaster, I think. Hazel poofs Dev into (or Dev poofs himself into) an Obtuse Rubber Goose on a skateboard. Hazel (or a rogue wish) freezes dev. A rogue star unfreezes him.

Dev accidentally unwishes him and Hazel into the Hocus Poconos. (Though they weren’t wishes in the first place. But I’m just writing this.)

There’s an unwish dragon that eats unwishes

Peri poofs him, Cosmo, Wanda, Dev, and Hazel out of Jorgen’s office and back to his parent’s house. (Still in Fairy World)

Episode 15b, The Treble with Rivals

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish I could play all instruments. (This summons the nMusic Fairy)

Hazel: I wish for a trumpet and a violin

Hazel makes a miscellaneous wish to be in two places at once. This doesn’t clone her, it looks like it just poofs her between rooms but no one seems to care about her randomly appearing and disappearing.

Hazel: I wish that the band and orchestra kids had nothing to be rivals about (This gets rid of music)

Hazel: Just take me to the nMusic Fairy, please

The nMusic Fairy gives Hazel a note to temporarily restore music

Hazel is put in the nMusical Hall of Fame

Episode 16a, Rattleconda Racers

Hazel: I wish he was into (Rattleconda Racers) now.

Hazel: I wish we were out of the game! (They can't, that would be cheating)

Episode 16b, Dig a Little Deeper

Hazel: I wish we were in a cave

Hazel: I wish I could find the coolest, shiniest, most out of this world rock! (They poof it from the “opposite end of the universe”)

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish we were safely back at home (they don’t have their wands)

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish we were back at home

Episode 17a, Best of Luck

Cosmo and Wanda have their home in Hazel’s school desk

Dev: Get me that free T-shirt, I wish for that free t-shirt. (Peri: I can get you a T-shirt, but I can’t get you that T-shirt because it’s a prize. Da Rules state that-)

Dev: Of course Hazel won, she probably wished for it (Peri: Doubtful, Da Rules state that-)

Peri: Hazel having two fairies has nothing to do with the luck of-

Dev: I wish to be in tomorrow’s school-wide tournament (Peri: Dev, that’s cheating! I can’t-)

Dev: I wish for straight A’s (Peri: Da Rules-)

Dev: I wish for Hazel to have all F’s (Peri: I can’t-)

Peri: You know what, Dev, I’m done! (This counts as a resignation)

Dev: I wish it was tomorrow! (Irep grants this)

Dev: I wish to be back in the tournament today

Dev: I wish for Hazel Wells to have bad luck!

Hazel: I wish to have good luck (Wanda: Something is preventing our wands from granting your wish! [Wanda doesn’t think wishing for good luck counts as cheating])

Hazel: I wish for as many good luck charms as possible!

Da Rules: Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place

Dev: I wish Bev loved me/ I wish for a ton of money/ I wish to be king of America

Wanda turns some man into a racoon

Irep turns Cosmo into an ostrich

Dev: Irep, I wish Cosmo and Wanda were NOTHING (Jorgen intercepts this wish, nullifying it)

Peri: when I quit, I never gave two-weeks notice so Dev is still my godkid

Jorgen reverses all of the wishes Irep granted… then physically throws Irep back to Anti-Fairy World

Episode 17b, Hazel Wells and the Multiverse of Jenkins

Hazel: I wish I had a do-over (Wanda, technically: If the wish involves time, we’ll have to call- Hazel: Father Time, yeah, sure sure sure, just do it.)

Hazel: Father Time, I need a do-over (time loops cereal- 568+ times; ruptures the space-time continuum)

Episode 18a, Growing Pains

Hazel: I wish I was thirteen so I could see Gregory by myself (they used fairymones to age her up)

Hazel: I wish we were at the theater

Pasta Puberty: When fairies reach a certain age, powerful fairymones cause big emotional and physical changes like pesto-pits, (unintelligible)-acne, and even mozzarella mood swings.

Hazel: I wish you two would just get lost

Hazel: I wish I was ten again!

Episode 18b, Fairy for a Day

Hazel: I wish I could go to Fairycon (Cosmo: sorry, Hazel, but this is a fairies only event)

Hazel signs a fairyfication certificate and becomes a fairy (Hazel: I thought you said godkids couldn't be fairies. Wanda: Godkids cant wish to be fairies)

Becoming an official fairy means you get your own anti-fairy

Lady: This macrochip powers all the wands in Fairy World. If this isn’t plugged in properly, no fairy can use their magic

Hazel: Cosmo, Wanda, I wish I was a kid again (Wanda: according to Da Rules we didn't make you a fairy so we can’t unmake you a fairy)

Hazel makes another of herself. It basically has no soul

Lezah makes two- then more- then gives them all papers- then turns herself into Hazel

Hazel destroys the certificate with magic- this gets rid of Lezah.. Not her shoes, though.

Episode 19a, Stuck in My Head

Hazel: I wish Winn and Jasmine were inside my head, that way they could really get to know me

Hazel: I wish the mind worm was gone (Wanda: We can’t do that. The mind worm is a part of you)

Hazel: I wish we were back at home

Episode 19b, Mind the Gap

Hazel: I wish my gap was gone (Tooth Fairy)

Hazel: I wish I had floss

Hazel: I wish for cinnamon toothpaste

Hazel: I wish the Tooth Fairy were here

Episode 20, The Battle of Big Wand

Cosmo: Don’t you wish to land safely? (Hazel: of course I do)

Wanda: Don’t you wish you were already dressed for school? (Hazel: Sure, why not)

Hazel: Did you magically brush my teeth? (Cosmo: Only because you wished for it! You did wish for it, right?)

Hazel has made 999,999 wishes. 1,000,000 wishes means you get a rule free wish

Hazel: I wish that drool was dried! (1,000,000)

Fairies have an Information Technology department

Dev: That Fairy World sign, fix it (Irep: Done and doner *It says Dev World*/ *Irep poofs sunglasses onto Jorgan’s office, then makes it bigger*)

Irep: (About the DMV) What are we thinking? (Dev: Slap an E on it!)

Dev: Seize them! (Hazel, Cosmo, and Wanda)

Anti Fairies started an Anti-web that humans (or at least Dev) can access

Irep tapes Dale’s mouth shut

Dev: Irep, I wish all godkid were reassigned to anti-fairies. (Hazel doesn’t get a fairy. Irep poofs her back to her home)

Dev: If I’m lactose intolerant then I wont tolerate lactose. Remove it!

Dev: Geography’s too hard, let's make it one place

Dev: The trouble (he might say treble here, in reference to the episode) with music is that there’s too many options. Try a new beat. I’ll call it Dev-step

All competitions have winners/ Couples are breaking up willy nilly/ pets are coming to life from their cemetery

Hazel: For the past year I have had Fairy godparents (just lore/ she has made 1,000,000 wishes in a year.)

Hazel: Wanda I wish you would restore Fairy World back to normal (Despite experiencing magic build up, Wanda can grant this- this also heals Peri and Cosmo [and anyone else])

Jorgen wipes Earth’s memories of fairies

Hazel: Wait I’m still owed one rule-free wish! … I want (Jasmine, Winn, and Antony) to keep their memories and be allowed to know about fairies forever.

Jorgen poofs all seven of them back to Earth

Seven Penny Farthing-Farting Dirt Bikes (and four helmets)

#the fairly oddparents #fairly oddparents #fop a new wish #fop #fopanw #fairly oddparents a new wish

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fettfleisch · 1 year ago

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the ancient legend of Loreley says that a beautiful virgin sings by the water. Her eyes had a charm that no man could resist. Her voice set everyone on fire, regardless of gender and origin. Her beauty petrified the rafters and ferrymen so that they could no longer take their eyes off Loreley, and their boats crashed against the rocks. They sank and drowned. But the story is not told faithfully. I still know Loreley from the old days. Loreley was not a she, but a he. His grace made the waves swallow man after man, and those who could escape were ashamed. To fall for another man, to eye him like the most beautiful thing on earth, was a dishonor to them. So they began to retell the story and him became her. Loreley was Venus indeed, but Venus as a boy... when I go swimming here today, I feel the sadness and pain of all the men with every surge over my thighs. But it is no longer an outburst of shame. It is the remorse of having betrayed Loreley, and with him, themselves. They could not pour out tears, so they themselves have become water instead, which now washes around my cheeks. My cheeks have taken up their legacy and may the rivers and floodplains carry on the story of Loreley as it really was, so that no man has to suffer anymore

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pearlofthesirens · 8 months ago

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You Needed Somebody- a short Simon Riley drabble

warnings: mentions of death, war crimes, they/them pronouns

Simon doesn't remember when his face started to be double cleansed and his stubble started to be clean shaved. He doesn't know when his skin started to be layered with toner, serum, the whole shebang followed by a kiss on his well moisturized lips. Perhaps his grey matter stopped working at the same time he admitted to himself that he was smitten, down bad for this one person whom he would've never met if it wasn't for Soap convincing him for a trip to the bar.

Before he could pick up his glass of straight bourbon, he already met with some cocktail, which he would say was rather too sweet for his taste, tipping over onto his shirt and a nervous face pulling their handkerchief out. He was confused when a pair of shaking hands already started to wipe his compression shirt, face red with embarrassment and strings of "sorry"s filling up his ears.

For the person in front of him, it was an accident they were intensely mortified about. But for Simon, his eyes slightly widened like he witnessed an angel on earth. He was not one to believe in companionship, but at that moment he could risk breaking his character if it meant to get to know them better "'s okay."

"no, no it's not! how stupid of me to just drop my drink like that on you, i'm so so sorry-"

"said 's okay, love. ain't gotta worry 'bout nothin'."

He didn't know whether he felt his pulse increasing or stopping when his dead brown eyes met with the most beautiful set he had ever encountered. The disheveled hair, the way their chest heaved in and out, their cheeks flushed red, hell even Simon felt his face warm up, thanking the mask he wore before leaving for concealing it.

They were very occupied with hygiene, it didn't take Simon long to understand that after he had the permission to visit their flat and find it full of stuff. room freshener, perfumes, skincare, hair products, even the toilet looked better than what Simon remembers seeing at the base.

It wasn't until he touched their face when he realized how much softer they were than him. A civilian, in military language, away from what Ghost worked with. Away from all the bloodshed, lying, dealing with war criminals and emergency coverups. Did he even deserve this?

Being taken care of was so foreign to him after his loved ones were so brutally taken away from him. He swore to himself that he would not get attached to anyone, not even his own teammates. Better to not have any than lose more, right?

Simon didn't realize that his mentality had left him lonely, very lonely. His apartment didn't even matter to him, always looked brand new every time Price sent him away from the base for some 'off time'. Apparently he couldn't be staying on base 24/7.

Then arrived his miracle. Coming in his life like the first ray of sunshine after rain, bringing not only warmth but hope too. Although they crash landed in his life out of nowhere, Simon would admit that he enjoyed their presence and enjoyed how you made him feel even more. The giddy feeling was here to stay and he wasn't complaining.

"This is called niacinamide, it's supposed to- Si, are you even listening to me?"

He felt his lips curve up to form a smirk, bending forward to press them on theirs, which copied his. Oh how he loved to hear them giggle, he could listen to it like a broken record for the rest of his life.

"Of course, 'm all ears. keep talking, darling."

proofread ✓ pearly venus 17:40 240326

#pearly venus #cod #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost #cod mw2 #simon riley #gn!reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 2 months ago

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'Blue Ribbons' - DiscoPunk -Hobie Brown x OC

Octobie Week 1 - Comfort

Synopsis - When Diane is faced with a horrific canon event and blood on her hands that only Hobie can understand, he offers her comfort - and a way to just be.

DiscoPunk - Hobie Brown x Diane Pastors - Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 3.8k

TW : Violence, (brief mentions of) Gore, Murder, Racism, Racial Slurs a.n: Thanks to @the-kr8tor for inspiring me to finally finish a fic lol! I proofread this like a speedrun so excuse any typos thxs <3

___________________________________________

Diane had never been like Hobie. Some could argue they were more different than they were alike.

It seemed like Hobie was rough in all the places she was soft. Like Diane was tender in all the places he was tough. Just like there was order in his anarchy, there was chaos in her order.

It was rare that people so different found themselves in the same place at once. When before, they had been universes apart.

They had a few things in common, though.

For one, they were artists. They were radicals. Musicians. Creators who turned rage and chords into melodies and hooks.

They were many things. But if there was anything they wasn’t - it was heroes. If it was one thing they could agree on, it was that;

Hobie and Diane weren’t heroes.

They didn’t want to be. That was the thing though - No one had ever stopped to ask them what they wanted.

They had never asked to be the foot-soldiers of their own freedom. They had never wanted to keep fighting, no matter how futile and hopeless it felt. Broken bones exchanged for a chance to fix a broken system; waking up the morning after to piece together a broken spirit, then continuing on like nothing had happened.

No one would ask for that.

Yet when did canon ever care?

Hobie didn’t believe any of it, ‘Bollocks, the lot of it.’ if you asked him. But for Diane, the writing on the wall wasn’t so clear, not yet. That he could tell. Even if he couldn’t do much to help.

In the face of it all, it was easier to feign normalcy. Easier to be rockstars and delinquents than the people the universe wanted them to be.

Easier to record record after record. Easier to sell out venues, swimming through afterparty after afterparty, waking up just to put on the suit, and go swinging hungover. Easier to crash on each other's couches, and pretend they were just two musicians who had met drunk at a bar.

Like tonight. It was simpler that way.

It was usually simpler that way.

Hobie was dead asleep on Diane’s couch.

It was a pink and plush number, covered in velvet, and dwarfed by her overwhelming throw-pillow collection. The place smelled like vanilla, pecan pie, and good ‘skunk’ - Diane’s word for weed. No matter how many times Diane spontaneously redecorated, that one thing had always seemed to stay the same. It had been that way since the night he had met her.

In a way, Diane was like that too.

No matter what, she was always new - a new lip gloss, a new fragrance, a new fashion trend to try. Every day there was a new lingo to learn, and a new song to write. She was always so ‘new’, even if the two of them were living 50 years in what everyone considered ‘the past’.

But at the end of the day, she was always her. At the end of the day, she would always be Diane.

Hobie felt Diane before he saw her.

Even in his sleep, he could always tell it was her.

The feeling was unlike any other - something innate like their Spider Sense, something sweeter like affection. There was a time Hobie could never understand it, the spark at the edge of his perception, the unignorable energy that let him know she was there.

He felt it behind his eyes before they opened.

Outside her window, the ever-burning neon signs left stains of color across the carpets on her floor, hyper-saturated paint strokes in the darkness of Earth 1294.

Hobie didn’t want to be right - but felt like something was terribly wrong.

The window in the kitchen slammed open, filling the apartment with the sounds of traffic and city chaos if only for a moment. But he could only hear her. Diane’s footsteps were heavy and uneven, like she wasn’t wearing her skates. Without a doubt, he could tell she was crying.

The window slammed shut.

“Di.” Hobie called, climbing over the back of the couch to stand. “Fucking hell, you alright-”

What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

Hobie had never seen her this way.

Diane stood in the doorway - Hair, hands, body, and face, covered in blood. Her eyes were wide, trained on Hobie, but looking straight through him. The image of it all was enough to make his mind go blank.

“Is that your blood?” Hobie asked.

Diane shook her head.

“Hobie, I just killed someone.”

There was terror in her voice.

Diane whispered it - fearing the ground would split and swallow her whole for simply admitting it. Her voice was raspy with the first words she’d spoken since. She was shaking, running bloodied hands through her hair as she tried to smooth out the curls - over and over again.

When Hobie wrapped his arms around her, Diane fell into his embrace. With her chest against his, he could feel the stutter of her breath - the way her lungs tried to fight through the hyperventilation.

There were only two options here, only two true explanations - ones all Spider people knew. Either she had failed to save someone, or something far, far worse.

It was only then he realized that she wasn’t wearing her mask. Hobie couldn’t ignore the way his stomach dropped.

“You hurt?”

Diane shook her head. “No.” she said, breathless.

Her hands shook so hard she could barely steady herself. And even through the blood and mess, Hobie laced his fingers in hers, clasping her hands tight to stop the shake. Guitar-calloused fingers ran against the back of her hand, the blood of her crime spreading to him. It did little good, they still shook.

“That’s all that matters then.” Hobie told her, taking steps towards the sink. “Ain’t no use in you staying like this.”

He turned the water in the sink on. He dampened a paper towel, raising it to wipe the blood from her face. “We gotta get you cleaned up, yea-”

Diane swatted at his hand, the first time she’d ever rejected his touch. And suddenly - she was looking directly at him, eyes wide, piercing, and urgent.

“No! No, I can’t - That’s not what matters right now.” she said, pulling away from his touch.

Diane had never drowned in her life, until that moment.

That’s what it felt like.

She could feel herself gasping for air, her heart beating so hard she could feel it in every muscle.

She felt like she was underwater, suffocating in her living room - like any second it would all be too much and if she was lucky, her heart might stop. Her mind moved slow, thoughts distorted through seasalt, memories, and fear. The only words she could think to say - “We can’t be here”.

Over and over through the sobs. “We can’t be here.”

Diane moved through the living room like a hurricane, grabbing anything she could think to grab - her multi-verse watch, a photo of Aunt May, her songbook, things Hobie had made.

Hobie came to her, trying to still her if only for a moment. But she was falling apart at the seams, and he was at a loss.

“Hobie, we have to leave. Now.” she said. “We can’t be here when they get here.”

And just like that, Hobie knew.

Diane could see it. He didn’t show it, yet somehow she knew.

Diane knew the answer before she asked.

The universe tilted with the realization, the neon signs outside slipping into shades of suffocating blue. Like a glowing tide flowing in, threatening to swallow her whole. Now, all at once she realized - this was a wave she couldn’t stop.

“This is a canon event, isn’t it?”

Hobie’s response was enough of an answer. “Diane,” he said, “You have to tell me what happened.”

“I just killed a cop. Someone saw.”

Diane had never wanted to be a hero.

She had never wanted great power; She’d never asked for great responsibility either.

She never had asked to give up her body to the universe, for it to change into something just barely un-human. Or risk her life for a people - for a city of people - who just didn’t seem to care.

There was a time when she was younger, when she thought she could be anything she wanted. Now none of that mattered.

Canon was what mattered.

Canon had made her what she is. Canon had made her a hero, and a killer too.

All she wanted was to be Diane.

Diane let him clean her up.

Her breath had quieted, and for a bit the look in her eyes were lidded, and far, far away. Yet the tears still came, silent streams on her face as she fought off the sniffles. Hobie planted her on the couch and knelt on the shag carpet on her floor - long fingers wiping away the mess of tears and cleaning the blood on her cheeks.

It felt like she was sitting someplace between a nightmare and a horrible, horrible reality.

The cold dampness of the tissue was a shock to her system, pulling her out of a place where time seemed to move so slow. Her eyes locked with Hobie’s, and in that moment, he could tell she was truly there, ready to talk.

“Who saw?”

Conjuring the memory to mind made Diane’s stomach drop.

“His partner.”

“The partner see your face?”

“No. I don’t think so.” she said, but she wasn't sure, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Was it an accident?”

“No.” Diane said again. “I don’t think so.”

That hadn’t been the answer Hobie expected. Not from Diane.

By the look on his face, Diane felt the need to explain.

“We were fighting. The bastard was using a little girl as a shield, gun to her head. So I went at him from behind.” Diane said, pointing a finger gun to her temple. “I didn’t touch it - It just fired, I don’t know how. He ended up taking the bullet to the side. The little girl got away.”

“Then you did the right thing, Di.”

Diane shook her head.

Again, the feeling was there again. Drowning.

“The thing is - He’d gotten my mask off.” She said, voice trembling. “He’d seen my face. He was there bleeding on the sidewalk, looking me dead in the eye. And you know what the bastard did?” she asked. “He laughed at me.”

For a second, Hobie thought that maybe he had heard her wrong. For a second, a part of him didn’t want to believe it. But he could hear it - in the way the memory and the rage left her voice shaking, the way her eyes squeezed shut, trying to erase the images.

“He didn’t think I would do it. He started saying horrible things.” Diane said. “Called me a n!***r-bitch. Told me they’d lynch me for it - all of that. He’d thought that because my mask was off, that he’d won.

“I should’ve ran. He thought I was going to, but I didn’t. I didn’t know his partner was there waiting to ambush me. I just remember feeling so cold, all over. I just - I wanted to make him feel like, how cops have made me feel all my life. I wanted him to feel that fear. I wasn’t thinking - I just figured, if I hurt him this one time, he couldn’t hurt us ever again.”

Hobie understood.

He wished he didn’t. Hobie wished that Diane would never know the feeling he knew all too well, would never have to make the choice he’d made years ago. But canon was cruel like that.

“Daiquiri,”

“The gun was by my feet. I just remember picking it up and aiming it at him. And he got real quiet. I almost ain’t do it. I just wanted to scare him. Then he spat at me, so I - I just pulled the trigger.”

The sobs seemed to break her, and Diane turned her face from Hobie, even as he leaned forward to embrace her.

It was like being there.

The words alone made her stomach sour, the shining signs outside slipping from shades of aquamarine to a shamrock green. The images behind her eyes seemed to play silently, vividly, more distorted and revolting each way around.

She really wished she had looked away.

It was the first time in her life that she’d ever seen brains.

Diane stood suddenly, tripping over her own feet as she stumbled her way to the bathroom. Her knees hit the tiles hard, and she knelt on all fours before the toilet, vomited up everything she had in her.

Hobie was at her heels for every step.

When they made it to the bathroom, he brushed her hair over her shoulders, keeping it all out the way and rubbed her back as it rumbled with sobs.

He didn’t know how long they laid there, in the darkness of her bathroom, yet it seemed like an eternity before her breathing slowed and her sobs subsided. Diane hung onto Hobie as if she’d slid off the edge of the Earth otherwise, and he held her, sandwiched in the cool place between her tub and her toilet.

When it was just the two of them like this, there was no such thing as time. With the two of them, there were no boundaries in the cosmos - the two of them in their own little universe.

It was easier that way.

Hobie wondered where they’d be, if not together. If they let canon write their stories for them - would that be a life worth living at all?

“I’m so tired of this shit.” Diane whispered.

“So am I.” Hobie said.

Hobie turned on the shower, lifted Diane, and took her back to the couch.

That was the only thing he could think to do - clean her up and get her comfortable.

He didn’t know how long they had before the city was in a frenzy - how long they had before Disco-Spider would be identified and outed, her face shown to all of New York. Soon cops all over the city would no her as a cop-killer, the NYPD’s enemy #1. And there was only so much he could do to shield her. But he’d try.

Diane laid on the couch, her energy gone, her body grounded by exhaustion and crushing dread. Silently, she watched the TV play reruns of The Brady Bunch on mute. A family of smiling faces casting dancing lights across her blank face.

“You know,” Diane said, after a long time. “I’m afraid I won’t ever see my aunt again.”

It took Hobie a second to understand what she meant. Her head was sat in his lap, but she turned her eyes toward him, looking up at him.

“Never took you to be religious,” he said.

Up until that moment, Diane had never spoken much about religion, or death. She simply wasn’t the type, too full of life to ever think about death. Not even when Diane’s Auntie May had died less than a year earlier - another canon event that was still a fresh wound.

“I didn’t either.” Diane said. “That’s what she use to say though. That I’d see my mama and dad in heaven. They went missing, and we ain’t ever find them. But Auntie used to say, even if we can’t find them here, if we were good - we’d find them there. Then we’d all be together. Now that I say it like that.. It sounds naive. But I still feel scared.”

It was crushing, that feeling. The fear that she was too far gone. Diane had never been religious. She’d sang at church when she was young, gotten all prettied up on Sundays. But she had been a child then.

Now, she couldn’t recognize herself. Back then, she could be her. Now, she had to be Disco.

Hobie ran his fingers along the side of Diane’s face, brushing her hair aside. Diane closed her eyes, trying to imagine that his touch was the only thing left in the world.

“If it makes you feel any better, wherever you end up. I’ll be there too.” he said.

For a second, Diane didn’t say anything, holding herself in that moment with his touch, the lights outside tangerine and crimson red.

When she opened her eyes, she said “It does make me feel a little better.”

After all this, a place with just the two of them did seem like heaven.

Diane got in the shower, running the water hot, as if she were trying to wash the trauma out.

Hobie stayed in the living room, in a silent argument with himself.

How long could they stay here? How long did she have?

Hours? Minutes? Moments?

How much would she have to endure, before canon decided she’d ‘had enough’? Why did it have to happen at all?

The image on the TV changed drastically. The mirage of a happy white family of sitcom smiles seemingly disappeared in an instant. Now there was breaking news, and the screen before him showed nothing but chaos.

Rioters forming a mod, a gathering on the steps of the NYPD Headquarters, the people’s faces contorted in anger and hatred. The headline accompanied the scene: ‘Rioters search for Disco-Spider in defense of Shoot-&-Slain Captain Stacy’.

Fellow officers stood amongst the crowd in support, armed with their assault rifles and riot gear. The ones that didn’t have that, had white hoods.

This was the reality of Diane’s universe.

This was why the Black Panthers fought as hard as they did, what her parents had fought all their lives for. A universe divided by racial injustice, homophobic extremism, and hatred. He could see it in their faces, both giddy and enraged. When he unmuted the TV, he could hear it in their voices, when they chanted ‘Kill the N!***r!’ with glee.

Diane had sacrificed her life to be Disco, when she had only wanted to be herself. Diane had given up dreams to be Disco, to defend those that simply wanted to be themselves too.

But could she die for Disco too? The question made Hobie sick.

Hobie had his answer. They didn’t have long.

Diane couldn’t tell how long she’d laid there, sitting in darkness at the bottom of her tub. Knees to her chest, she held herself there in a ball, under the cool running water.

She knew she didn’t have much time.

The walls seemed like they were closing in, tighter and tighter. Like if she let go for only a second, canon would crush and kill her right there and then.

She had never wanted any of this.

There was nothing she wanted more than to take Hobie by the hand, to curl up with him in bed, and let the world implode around them - like nothing else mattered. Like there was no one else in the universe but them.

What she wouldn’t give, to be anyone else. To be a footnote in someone else's story, to live - and just live, with Hobie. She’d give anything.

The universe wouldn’t allow it. Canon needed a character worthy of tragedy. But if she closed her eyes, when she thought about it hard enough, she could see a life with him that felt all too real.

Backstage at shitty venues, stolen kisses in alleyways. Weed smoke and lipstick stains, morning after morning on a canal boat. No universes to keep them apart and not ever having to say goodbye.

A life where she was just Diane. And he was just Hobie. And they could just be together.

What she wouldn’t give for a life like that.

When Diane got out of the shower, the tile floor felt ice cold.

Whatever was at the top of the hamper was what she put on, something faded and worn - a bandtee of Hobie’s band ‘Wicked Webs’ - and she left her hair as is, kinky coils still wet from the water.

On the other side of the door, the apartment seemed dark and cold.

“Hobie?”

No response.

She could hear the sounds of chaos - sirens and shrieks from the streets. Blue and red lights flickered across the city, dozens of patrol cars to start the search. Soon, the whole city would be in lockdown.

There was no time left to run, there had never been any other place to go. And the thought terrified her to her core.

Diane could feel the panic setting in again. She could tell in the way her chest tightened and heaved.

Diane felt Hobie before she saw him, lean arms wrapping around her middle to pull her close. Diane turned into his embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder, taking him in if only for a moment.

It was a second before she asked “Where’d you go?”

“Had to grab something,” he said.

Hobie held something between them. An item, wrapped in his signature scrap-wrapping-paper - a gift. Diane hesitated, trying to even her breathing and soothe the shake in her hands. She took the box from him, turning it over to undo the tape.

“Was gonna wait til your birthday for this one, but I figured I’d give it to you a bit Liz Hurley*. Just this one time.” (rs: ‘early’)

Diane opened the box.

Inside was a watch.

Diane froze, the shock of it enough to wipe her mind clear.

It was sparkly and holographic, rigged with a neon pink screen, and girly keychains. It was a multiverse watch - but it wasn’t Miguel’s.

It was his.

And now, it was hers.

“Hobie, I-” Diane shook her head in disbelief, trying to find her words. All she could say was “You’re amazing.”

Hobie pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulling her closer when he said “I want you to come with me, Di.”

“What?”

“Miguel and Jess won’t tell you this - but you don’t have to live like this. If this ain’t what you want, if you aren’t happy, then fuck canon.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Could be.” Hobie said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I made this watch so Miguel couldn’t track us whenever you came over. But if you want to leave, actually leave - Diane, you don’t have to be Disco if you don’t want to. You could be just Diane. Screw Miguel and screw canon. I’d love you the same.”

Diane looked down at the watch in her hands. The key to escaping, to leaving, to just being. Being with Hobie, being just Diane.

What more could she ask for? What did she have left to lose?

It only took twenty minutes to pack her bags, two duffels she’d gotten on their last tour.

Diane slipped on the watch. When it clicked into place, it was a perfect fit. She’d left her blood-stained suit in the hamper. She figured she wouldn’t need it.

The portal in front of them was entirely Hobie, rough on its edges and loud in its colors. When she passed through it, she left to Disco behind.

She left to be Just Diane.

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:) I HAVE NOTHING TO ADD. I'm happy to be done and I'm happt with how this came out but atp I'm not even sure if its enough comfort to count lol

If you made it this far, thank you SO SO SO much for reading. I love you!! Here's Hobie.

BYE.

#YES ITS LATE IM VERY SORRY #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #hobie brown x oc #hobie x oc #discopunk #disco punk #Hobie x Diane #Octobie #Octobie 2024

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