#post so small you need a microscope.

[floweypilled]

look at them really quick ok?

[random-jot]

@ my urls - why are you running?

Why are you running?

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ HONEY.. COME BACK TO ME. PLEASE. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you and your ex-boyfriend katsuki bakugou can't seem to resist each other no matter what. even if you're only supposed to be friendly at the class reunion party.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x ex-girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: mentions of handjobs and oral sex in 3rd year at ua, oral sex (f! receiving), tits fixation, penetrative / p in v sex, car sex / semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie 🤭

note: spoilers for chapter 431 (a little different in some parts), usage of "brat", "honey", "sweets", "woman", fem reader, mentions of izuocha, second chance romance trope, porn with plot, microscopic angst, credits to gsony for center pic in my banner, i love them sm^^hope i did our husband justice 💜💜

╰┈➤ ❝ [why is he here?] you murmur quietly, discreetly watching katsuki from a distance, seeing him quiet and grumpy, drinking with a few of his friends alongside izuku.

ochako raises an eyebrow with a grin, clearly amused at your turmoil with the pro hero. she nudges your arm, looking at you from the side. "he's a part of the class too, y'know."

"i know that," you huff, sighing as you land your drink down the table, glancing back at him before looking back at ochako with a frown. "just.. its hard."

of course it was hard to see great explosion murder god dynamight. your ex-boyfriend, no matter how hot he looks in his usual black attire, his big biceps straining against the material, his post-war scars framing his muscular, gorgeous physique.

even before the war, you and katsuki were a great couple, despite your constant bickering and petty arguments. it just led up to increasing sexual tension and great makeout sessions. maybe got handsy a few times and did.. oral stuff in your 3rd year together but no more than that.

it all just came crumbling down after graduation, when you two gradually spent less time together as work kept both of you away from each other. you both ended it on good terms only after a year of being pro-heroes, but that doesn't stop you from missing him. from wanting him, needing him.

katsuki felt the exact same way. even if he was nonchalant about it now, he was barely holding himself back from dragging you away from this party and kissing your face off until he made up with the time both of you spent away from each other. which, to him, seemed like forever.

throughout the years, the two of you did see each other frequently during patrols and in joint-cases, made appropriate civilized small talk, but never ever talked about getting back together. it wasn't that both of you didn't want to: it just wasn't the perfect time. unlike this setting, where the two of you could talk properly.

ochako sighs softly, a small sympathetic smile on her face. "he's just a man, sweetie. after this, you'll barely see him again."

you bite you bottom lip and nod, tugging on the skin. you knew she made a good point, its just.. well, it doesn't change the fact that katsuki's in near proximity.

you sigh, smiling softly at her. "yeah, i know," you grin, nudging her arm, gesturing your head to izuku. "enough about me, though. what about you and midoriya, huh?"

ochako widens her eyes a little at the mention of her old highschool crush, shakes her head profusely, clearly flustered as vibrant pink tinting her cheeks. "i-i haven't even talked to deku in awhile! its been so long ago.."

you scoff and roll your eyes, grab her shoulder, and shake them a little. "well, change that. c'mon, i saw him looking at you anyway. maybe the same way he did todoroki but at least he looked at you. that counts for something."

you could still see the reluctance in her eyes to go so you shake her arm again in encouragement. "gooo, i'll be here, drinking my problems away, rooting for you."

ochako shakes her head at you with a soft grin, clearly wanting to but shyness was holding her back.

"i suppose a hello wouldn't hurt," her grin widens, pressing her cheek against yours, mumbling a soft thank you. "wish me luck."

you wave at ochako, mouthing to her good luck, as she approaches izuku, watching their cute interaction from afar. they wave at each other like the young, shy high-schoolers they once were, chatting and laughing softly over something trivial. izuku then offers her to sit beside him.

izuku eyes katsuki with a grin, gesturing his head to leave. katsuki rolls his eyes, but stands up, giving his seat to ochako. like the little bitch fate is, katsuki approaches ochako's empty seat beside you, looking at you with a small grin.

"oh, you sly fucker," your eye twitches. you didn't know who to be mad at, izuku or his insufferable best friend, but you could see ochako looking at you in worry, mouthing a quick sorry before getting enveloped by izuku's conversation again.

you sigh, shaking your head. on the bright side, whats the worst that can happen?

you give katsuki a soft smile, waving weakly at him. your hand feels stiff from how nervous you are, shaking it under the table to shake off the nerves. "hi."

katsuki raises an amused eyebrow at you, wearing his signature snarky smirk. he nods, settling down in ochako's empty seat. "hey, brat."

as you sat next to him, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. a pang of nostalgia, a flutter in your chest at the sight of him, and a hint of sadness at the memory of what could have been.

you took in his spicy cinnamon scent with smoky notes that you missed so much, the way his blonde hair was messily fixed, and his sardonic grin. it was hard to ignore the spark of longing, repeatedly chanting in your head that he was your ex for reason.

katsuki glanced over at you, eyes meeting for a brief moment. his crimson eyes catch the light of the room, making them glow like bloodstone. it made your stomach do backflips, forcing yourself to breathe.

”i’m surprised you actually came,” he says, his voice low and casual.

when he spoke again, the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. it was the same voice that had whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the same voice that had laughed at your stupid, corny jokes, the same voice you had fallen asleep listening to on countless nights in the past.

you felt your palms begin to sweat but couldn't help but be a little pissed. it reminded you of what you said to ochako earlier, but still. "why wouldn't i? i'm in the class as much as you, aren't i?"

"don’t be a smartass,” he takes a sip of his drink, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. your eyes followed the movement, a wave of memories hitting like a tidal wave.

other classmates fanned out of the room as the night goes on, but katsuki took advantage of this, seperating you from them, keeping you all to himself.

he turned to face you fully, your knees touching with his for a moment as he shifted in his seat. the sudden contact made you inhale sharply, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

"you look good," he said quietly, eyeing you up and down slowly, his gaze lingering on parts of your body that he clearly remembered well.

the warmth in your cheeks grew a little, clearing your throat, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "thanks. wish i could say the same for you."

he raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. "is that how it’s going to be?”

"well, you look like you need a shave," you lied. he didn't.

"oh? i thought you liked it when i was a little scruffy, sweets," you absolutely fucking did. there was nothing you wanted more than to lean in and feel the stubble on his jaw, to remember the roughness of his cheeks while you made out him. while he spoils your neck with hickies. while his head is in between your thighs, kissing your clit-

"that was years ago," you avert your gaze from him, unable to look at him any longer without crumbling. why was he so fucking attractive? it's been seven goddamn years. don't ex-boyfriends get ugly after a break-up?

"why do i get the feelin' you've missed it, hm?"

"i don't. you're delusional."

"you're a real terrible liar, brat."

"lying about you being delusional?"

"lying about you not missin' this. missin' me," he reached out to you, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. his touch was gentle as his knuckles grazed your cheek briefly. fuck.

"i don't.. i don't miss this. i don't miss you," you chew on the inside of your cheeks, trying to hold on to any semblance of composure you had. all the dignity you had was telling you to pull away but did you listen? fuck no.

"you're not very good at hidin' how much you want someone, sweets."

"quit it, katsuki. i said i don't."

"oh, that's real fuckin' funny. but i'll be clear," he chuckles deeply, a slow victorious smile on his face. you're starting to crack.

his hand slowly sliding towards your thigh, hidden from anyone else's view under the table. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. his closeness was already making it harder to think, the sensation of his touch only weakening your resistance.

"i'm done pretendin' i don't want you. so, honey, cut it out, because we both know you want me too."

your gaze widened, quickly biting down on your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from saying anything stupid.

luckily, before you could even respond, the very man who put you in this situation, izuku approached with kirishima in tow.

"hey kacchan, would it be okay if we leave now? i have an early class tomorrow," izuku asks, not a care in the world that he interrupted something between you two.

katsuki was staring daggers at him though, because he had to pull his hand away from your plush thigh.

"yeah, i gotta hit the sack too, man," kirishima rubs the back of his neck, who knows hes interrupting something between the two of you but doesn't say anything about it.

but.. that doesn't mean he doesn't want to fuck around a little. kirishima looks at you with a friendly grin. "hey, wanna come with?"

you panic a little. another chance for katsuki to wreck your defenses? could you handle that?

"nah, i'd rather not disturb, i'll just wait for a cab-"

"the fuck you're not. you're not takin' a cab, brat. i'm drivin' you home," katsuki spat, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the ride home was pleasantly quiet in a way that wasn't uncomfortable. the atmosphere was a bit tense, but it was manageable.

you found yourself in the passenger seat of his black porsche 911 gt3 rs, not because you wanted to, but because according to katsuki:

"you better sit your ass down here or i swear to god, woman, i'll pin you down this chair myself."

so, it left izuku and kirishima in the backseat that seemed to drown them (comfortably). you didn't utter a single word during the drive, merely listening to their conversation, occasionally cracking a small smile and chuckling at their banter.

the silence thickened again when katsuki dropped kirishima and izuku off, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet car.

okay, you needed a game plan. keep quiet, do not give in, and do not fuck him-

"i missed you, y'know," he murmurs, his eyes still focused on the road.

his words caught you off guard, startled you. you missed him too. so fucking much. but the words got stuck in your throat, pride and fear holding you back. you try to keep your emotions in check, keeping quiet and not giving in according to your game plan-

"too fuckin' much. pisses me off. started to bother kirishima too," he lets out a frustrated sigh, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little, his knuckles turning white. "plagues the shit out of me. that i think about you almost everyday at the most random fuckin' times, its terrifying."

he glances at you briefly, sighing before focusing his eyes back on to the road, running his free hand through his blond hair. "honey, talk to me."

"...what do you want me to say, katsuki?"

"just.. tell me what you're thinkin', okay? what you're feelin'. the fuckin' truth, goddamn it, don't shut me out."

fucking hell. it was just so easy to give in to your feelings, to tell him how much you missed him. how much you wanted to be with him again. but you were afraid — afraid of having to start the healing process all over again.

but.. that didn't stop you from bearing your heart out.

"you want the truth?" you turn your head to face him. "fine."

"it haunts me that you're the first thing i think of whenever i'm overjoyed with something or whenever i have a bad day. that whenever my friends ask if we could eat something spicy, i think of you. can't tell you the multiple times i had to hold myself back from hitting the send button to your old number."

"i missed you too, katsuki. more than i thought. hell, more than i should. you never left my mind, no matter how many times i tried to tell myself that you did."

katsuki remained silent for a while, his mind obviously occupied with your confession as he watched the road. it made you panic a little. was it too much?

but then, without warning, he makes a quick turn, swerving off the main road and into a nearby parking lot like his life depended on it.

it catches you off guard as the car suddenly lunges forward, making you hold on to the side of the car door. he parks the car in a secluded corner, away from any prying eyes.

"what are you doing?" you asked, still taken aback from what happened as you watch him unbuckle his seatbelt.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" his eyebrow arched, as if the answer should be obvious.

without waiting for a response, he reclines your seat for more space. he unbuckles your seatbelt before climbing over, hovering over you. "gonna get what i fuckin' want. and right now, sweets, that's you."

you swallowed hard, his words and closeness sending a shiver down your spine. you could feel yourself getting hotter with every second that passed, your body aching for his touch.

but you were still reluctant. even with your thighs clenched together, your core felt like a pool of hot, wet need. and he could tell.

katsuki's frustration was evident. he lets out a deep sigh, leaning his head against your neck, inhaling your scent, barely trying to hold himself back from doing anything drastic.

"honey.. come back to me. please."

his voice was thick with pathetic need, a raw desperate desire for you burning in him.

fuck.

you know you should put up a fight, should try and resist him. but your body was aching for him.

and you really, really, couldn't fucking care less.

the moment your palms caress his cheeks, katsuki's eyes flutter shut, and he leans into your touch, sighing. you can feel him shiver under your fingertips, his body burning with longing. as your eyes meet his, a flash of raw desire flickers across his face.

and then, it's as if a dam breaks.

he leans in, his lips crashing into yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. his mouth is hot and eager against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips in a possessive, needy gesture.

katsuki's hands find your waist, strong and sure, pulling you closer as if the space between you is unbearable. you could feel his dick pressed up in between your legs, almost trembling with the intensity of his need.

your fingers slide up into his hair, tangling in the soft, unruly strands as you deepen the kiss. he groans against your mouth, the sound low and guttural, sending a shiver down your spine. his lips move against yours like he’s trying to memorize every curve, every taste.

when he pulls back, just enough for his forehead to rest against yours, his breath comes in ragged gasps, mingling with your own. his crimson eyes, half-lidded and heavy with desire, bore into yours.

“don’t think for a second that im done with you,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. “you're not gettin' outta here until i've had my fill of you, sweets."

he grins, chuckling darkly. "or should i say.. until i've filled you up."

when he grinds his hips harder against yours, you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips. the feeling of his dick pressing against you makes your head spin, desire pooling in your wet cunny. fuck, was he always that big?

"oh, fuck," he inhales, almost hissing. "you feel that, sweets? hm? feel how hard my dick is, just for you?"

your bit you bottom lip, your head nodding slightly in response. your breath hitches when his hand reaches for in between your legs, inching up your skirt, rubbing his thumb against your damp panties.

"look at you, already such a fuckin' wet mess," he coos, a predatory grin on his face, glancing between your clothed, wet cunt and your flushed look. "haven't even started yet. you that eager for me, sweets?"

"stop being such a fucking tease and just.." your cheeks burn, embarassed, turning your head to the side. "fuck me."

"oh, i plan to sweets, don't worry," his voice low and sultry, tugging on the elastic of your panties, pulling them down your thighs. "wanna taste you first. haven't tasted this sweet fuckin' pussy in a long, long time."

"katsuki.. what if someone sees us?"

"honey.. i don't fuckin' care."

katsuki had brought you to the backseat of his car, stripped you off your skirt and panties and had your legs spread out like he needed to taste you or he'd die.

katsuki flicked his tongue at your clit, licking up your sweet, wet slick, feeling you squirm and mewl from under him. your legs were practically begging to be close shut, but he forced your legs open with his big, strong arms, both of his hands holding either side of your thighs.

"fuck, sweets, you taste so good," he groans against your folds, the intoxicating scent of your sweet cunt flooding his thoughts. "so fuckin' wet.."

you could hear the squelching sound of his tongue lap at your pussy, the lewd sound of his saliva and your slick turning you on. you took off your top and unhooked your bra, tossing it somewhere in the car. you played with your tits, pinching your nipples as you watched him ate your pussy like it was his last, delicious meal on earth.

"katsuki," you mewled, breath hitching as he fucks you with his skilled tongue.

"what, too much?" katsuki rasped, enjoying how you responded to his touch.

you nodded, already seeing stars.

he grunts, biting your inner thigh before chasing your orgasm again. "fuck that. missed this tight wet pussy of yours too much. can't believe you kept this sweet thing from me for so long..."

"katsuki," you moan his name, you grip on a handful of his hair, embarassed, almost going cross-eyed. he was eager to give you his all, it was slightly overwhelming. but you needed him. "too much, too much..."

"take it all for me, yeah, sweets?" katsuki grunts, raising the pace of his tongue, earning whimpering noises from you. "i know you can, c'mon. makin' my dick so fuckin' hard just watchin' you, holy shit.."

katsuki continues his delirious advance on your cunt, his perverted appetite for you making him so fucking horny. his cock twitches in his pants from the arousing act, throbbing from all the gluttony he was feeling. he couldn't get enough of it. he acted like a man starved and he needed all of you to quench his craving.

not that he'd ever stop craving you.

"katsuki, 'm about to-" you wail about your climax. your walls tighten around his tongue, your hips squirming from under him. you push your cunt against his face, wanting more friction.

"cum for me, sweets, c'mon," he continued to lap at your wet, sloppy mess. "need to taste you so fuckin' bad."

"fuck, fuck!" you squeal, moaning loudly as you painted his tongue white, shattered breathing as your chest heaved up and down.

katsuki doesn't waste another second, burying his face in between your legs as he glides his tongue across your pussy at a quick pace, savoring it all and riding out your orgasm. your legs shake from the overstimulation he was doing, whimpering from the way his tongue feels. he looks at you greedily, his cock agitated as his carnal desire to fuck you until your legs shaking burns more in him.

"'m so proud of you, sweets. c'mere, come gimme a kiss," he moves closer to you, his touch gentle and affectionate as he caresses your cheek before pressing his lips against yours in a kiss. you could almost taste yourself on his tongue.

his kisses are slow and gentle, his fingers find your nipples, pinching them as your fingers find their way into his hair.

he pulls away from you, panting and sweating, quickly stripping himself of his clothes, tossing them somewhere in the car.

he tugs his boxers down and pulls his cock out, already dripping with pre-cum before pulling you back in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. fuck, you don't remember it being that big.

you could feel his erection, his cock cushioning your wet cunt, his throbbing tip kissing your stimulated clit, just begging to be inside of you.

"you ready for me, right, sweets?" he murmurs, in between your tongues clashing together, waiting for your nod. he dips a finger inside you, making you moan. "look at this fuckin' pussy, could just slip in and bury my dick deep inside of you..."

"please," you plead, your voice soft and trembling, a pout tugging at your lips. you're needy and desperate, the words spilling out in a breathy whine. "i need you... so bad."

"god, you're killin' me here sweets," he took a deep breath, panting for air. "you sure?"

you took a shaky breath, your eyes meeting his. "yes. please... i want this, i want you."

your words broke the last thread of his restraint. in an instant, he closed the distance, his lips crashing onto yours with unrelenting intensity. as if you were his only source of salvation.

katsuki's hands found your waist as he grips on you firmly, guiding you onto his lap and positioning you to straddle him with an effortless, commanding strength. he was desperate, completely consumed by the need for you, his longing obliterating any trace of rational thought.

katsuki positions his dick inside of your pussy, groaning as he watches you mewl, disappearing inside of you and stretching your walls painfully. yet you still felt the raw need for him.

"katsuki," you pant as you sat on his cock, adjusting as you dangle your arms by his shoulders. "fuck me, pl-"

he doesn't even let you finish, carrying you briefly before slamming you down on his cock, feeling your pussy clamp down on him again and again.

"you look so pretty like this, sweets, fuck," he looks up at you in awe. his moves his mouth is on your tits, sucking on your nipple.

you take it all with a wail, closing your eyes in blissful pleasure as the tip of his cock kisses your walls.

"oh my fuckin' god, i love you so fuckin' much, sweets. holy shit. and this fuckin' pussy too. you know that, don't you?" he asks, his crimson eyes gazing into yours, tension filling the small corners of the car.

"yeah," you nod, your skin heating up, stammered breaths as his cock was stretching you, abusing your warmth.

"then say it back."

"no wa-"

you scream as katsuki humps you down on his cock mercilessly, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him. your hips squirm against the girth and length of his cock abusing your hole to its satisfaction.

"katsuki!" his name slips out of your lips, letting out a wanton moan as his deep, hungry thrusts buck inside you out of spite. "sl-slow down..."

"hell fucking no."

"katsuki, please!"

"not until you say it back."

"fucking- fine! i love you, okay?" you mewl at the pain, but at the same time it made you feel so so good.

"say it again, didn't hear it," he taunts, his thrusts still deep and desperate enough capable of making you cream on his cock.

"i said, i love you!" you panted, whimpering from his hips snapping into yours.

"that's my girl," katsuki grins, letting his hand travel to caress your cheek before pulling you in for a messy, sloppy kiss.

you feel your cunny coil of essence, chasing your climax desperately with him at the last few thrusts.

you pull away from him, panting. "katsuki, fuck, gonna cum again..."

"mhm, gonna cum too, sweets," he grunts, thrusting into your cunt sloppily. "cum with me, yeah?"

you pant out of bliss, nodding. his hips snap into yours as he thrusts into your cunt harder, dripping of your shared slicks.

you mewl as shockwaves of pleasure hit you, throwing your head back as your tight, white walls clench around his cock. katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he cums inside of you, a creamy frothy ring of white wrapped around the base of his cock as it kisses your folds.

both of you lay intertwined together, bodies tangled and panting together, breaths mingling, basking in the quiet warmth of each other's presence.

you pout up at him, delivering a playful slap to his cheek before sinking into his arms with a huff. "you're so mean."

katsuki chuckled deeply, the sound low and teasing. he didn't seem offended by your light hit, he seemed more amused by it.

"oh, please, you love me," he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer against his chest. he nuzzled into your hair.

his body relaxed somewhat as he held you. he couldn't help but marvel at how easily you fit against him, how well your body molded to his.

"i've missed having you in my arms, you know," he admires you, tugging a strand of your hair. "it's been... goddamn painful."

you bite your bottom lip, a deep sense of understanding in the sympathetic smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. you hold his gaze, knowing intimately the emotions that swirl within him. "i know, hon. me too."

the softness in his eyes is palpable as the pet name you had for him washes over him, a hint of vulnerability there that he rarely shows. he hides his face in the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "honey, i never wanna let go of you again."

you raise an eyebrow, a cheeky grin on your face as you tenderly caress his cheek, your gaze locking with his.

"i'm not going anywhere."

he looks up at you, returning your grin. his lips then gently meets yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

"good. i wouldn't let you even if you tried."

tags (blogs who requested/ commented / reblogged on teaser): @pikachuzhc @dragonscribble @obitosdefencelawyer @oladelmars @dietc0ke-stomach @liliththedxmon @junehasnotbeenfound @kaizuzuzu @babylambdietcoke @bri-licious08 @itadoriwife @katsukiglazerrr @secretlilli @trishiepo0 @akitafox @un-limit-edd @kalulakunundrum @krbkswifey @orangeheliophile @kenqki @thisbicc @augustraine @lisbethw @vikizzy @king-dynamight @legendarybatherringmonger @srcyy @moonlightwriter

a/n: was overwhelmed with how much attention the teaser was getting, EVEN ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS LIKED THE POST @cathnospam ILYSM YOURE MY HERO. feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome!! i was working on my thesis defense (accepted!!) while writing this so i apologize for the delay and if theres any grammatical errors^^ i am beyond grateful to all of you and i hope you enjoyed reading the epitome of me being horny for katsuki🥹🥹

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire

Summary: You just can’t seem to find yourself in this stupid school for freaks, but just when you’re sure no one cares anymore, a man with adamantium claws disturbs your groaning with a promise. Except he forgot to mention everything good comes with a price.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Anxiety, hints to violence, loneliness, I guess angst, manipulation (The reader is helpless and will look for anything to make her happy), some hints towards suggestive material near the end, bad language word use, pet names.

Word Count: 3523 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Xavier's Mansion.

Also known as the school for “Gifted Youngsters,” or simply for what society prefers to call, “Freaks.”

You’d been there for a few months. You have a very unique power, something even Xavier himself doesn’t understand how to control.

You get these looks all the time when you're walking in the halls of the mansion. You notice it when people cover their mouths to whisper about you and you can’t not notice it when you seem to create a bubble around you as some of the kids try to keep a distance.

Yea, it hurts. You couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes you’d even have to find a restroom really fast to cry to yourself in one of the stalls, but even that hurts when some of the students quickly flood out of the restroom after you enter.

Nobody knew how much it hurt you, nobody even knew what powers you really had. If they did, you would’ve already been sent to the ice box, but luckily, you didn’t know how to use your more dangerous powers. You figured Xavier probably knew about them, considering he can read your mind and he knows just exactly how powerful you really were, but he didn’t know if you knew about them. And what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

The hardest part was going to class. While everyone else had a table of four people, you sat alone. You did every project alone, with high soaring grades by the way, and you never got to speak to anyone during discussion or free time before the bell rang.

Sometimes you wish you were just… normal.

Of course, you weren’t the only person that was avoided. There were a few other students and even some of the adults that were always avoided. The only true friend you seemed to have was Hank McCoy. Everyone used to fear him, thinking that he couldn’t control the “Beast,” so he knows how you feel. But sometimes it only felt like he tolerated you because you were smart, and you were the only student that could aid him in building anything related to tech, and nanotech, and coding, and all that good stuff.

“Have you figured out why it isn’t working?” Was the first thing he asked you as you walked into his lab. Not a good morning, no how’s class, and not even hello. “I was thinking it had something to do with our maths, that maybe we calculated something wrong but I’ve looked over it again and again and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.” He tells you, picking up his notebook which you could see was now full of mathematical equations and random scribbles which seemed to radiate with frustration.

“I don’t think we got the maths wrong, I’ve checked it about a thousand times.” You say quietly, then gently put your bag full of books down under one of his desks so it wasn’t in the way. “Pretty sure it just needs to be smaller. Nothing really about maths though. Other than that, the fibres need to be smaller.”

“So it is the maths?”

“Eh, kind of.” You groan a little and stretch before grabbing a small, delicate pair of tweezers. “This is still too big.” You tell him, placing a sample of part of your tech down under a microscope, strong enough you’re surprised it couldn’t see atoms. “See, this is about as thick as a piece of hair, which is about the size of…” You sigh, looking back at your maths. “It’s about 50,000 nanoparticles, so not a lot, but we need it to be a little smaller.” You tell him, then look away from the small bit of tech to look up at him, his eyes squinted in your direction as is he was trying to understand what you were saying. “Okay I’ll dumb it down. It’s about as thick as a piece of hair right now, we need to numb it down to about… only one hundred nanoparticles, so it should be about as thick as graphene.”

“What’re you two nerds going on about now?” Another voice cuts into your explanation. It was none other than the gruffy voice of Wolverine.

“Oh hey, Logan.” Hank abandons the workstation to go over Logan who was making himself some coffee. “Just figuring out something about nano…”

“Nanoparticles.” You finish his sentence.

“Yea, that.” He says plainly, not bothering to look at you as you turn away from their conversation and look through the microscope.

“Now how do I make you that small…” You whisper to yourself, gently lifting the particle string with your delicate tweezers and examining it through the microscope. “Hmm…” You hum to yourself.

“Y/N!” Hank calls for you, and you turn around. “I’m going out to pick up some lunch for the both of us. What would you like? I’m getting Mexican.” You tell him what you would like, and he takes a moment to clean his work area and stuff his wallet in his pocket before he finally leaves. Leaving you to stand by your desk, doing all the work that has to do with nanotech, but also leaving the Wolverine with you.

“So what exactly are you two working on?” You hear his voice behind you, then you see him next to you.

“Teleportation. Not as complicated as you think, it’s just the fear that gets to everyone really.” You look away from your work, and your eyes land on him. His arms crossed as he leaned on a nearby table, showing enough respect to not sit on your working table.

“Seems complicated. What could possibly be scary about it though? It's just teleportation.”

“Well. If you think deeper into it. Your body and every single atom and particle of your body has to be completely broken down into an uncountable amount of smaller pieces and then your body has to rebuild itself in the secondary location, you just have to hope that it rebuilds you correctly. Or the next thing you know half your right arm is also half of your left leg with toes for fingers.” You say without taking a breath, taking a deep breath after letting it all out. Staring back up at him, his eyes were now squinted in confusion.

“I don’t think anyone is scared of that except you. I’ve never even thought about that.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his scalding hot black coffee.

“Yea well… I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things.” You tell him through gritted teeth, mumbling before grabbing your notebook.

“You know…” He pauses, placing his hot coffee mug on another table away from your work before walking back up next to you, placing his palms on your table where there wasn’t electronic junk lying around. “You aren’t the only one.”

“The only one?” You question, turning and grabbing another tool before looking under your microscope, turning the string around to try and figure out how to break it into a smaller piece, without actually breaking it.

“The only one that’s feared.”

You stop what you’re doing, still looking into the microscope but not actually paying attention to what was right in front of your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way some of the other kids look at you, bub. Like there’s something wrong with you. I know how it feels to not fit in.” He crosses his arms as he leans against your table, attempting to get your full attention. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’ve seen you in the halls. Your name is Y/N, right?” You nod, his eyes and yours locked onto each other. “Logan.” He says, reaching his hand out to shake yours. Your hand basically gets engulfed by his as your soft hand meets his, which were rough and still yet soft, that surprised you, considering… “Hank talks about you a lot also. Not like he loves you or anything, he just tells me you’re smart. Like really smart.” He shrugs.

“Hm…” You hum a little. This is the first conversation you’ve had with someone in this school where they’ve actually treated you like a real human.

“Considering the way you explain this stuff, I’d say he’s probably right about you being smart.” He nodded towards the nanoparticles still sitting under your microscope, it was hard to see from even a foot away considering it was the width of a single piece of hair. “So what exactly is a nanoparticle? Or nano…”

“Nanoparticle" is correct. It just like a piece of tech or anything made of tech like certain fibers that can be visible to the naked eye but they’re very small. Just this one piece is the width of 50,000 nanoparticles.” You carefully pick up the string, and gently put it in it’s container.

“And what was that other thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Graphene?”

“Yea.”

“It’s made of about 50 to 100 nanoparticles, and it can be seen with the naked eye through a refraction of light in a mirror or clear substance that has a bend in it.”

“I’m not completely sure what any of that means. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“Yea, I’m kind of a nerd.” You chuckle awkwardly, then reach down to pull your bag over your shoulder, your social battery is pretty much near zero for the day, or maybe week. This was you first time ever speaking to Wolverine and you just nerd out on him? What were you thinking?

“Alright, I got food. Where are you heading?” Hank finally comes back, a bag full of boxes with the three of your foods in them in his right hand as he enters the lab, letting the metal door close behind him.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Well you know the rules. No food in the rooms.”

“Yea, yea. I know.” You sigh, setting your bag back down as he hands you your box of food and you hop onto one of the clean counters to sit down as you eat your food.

“Have you seen Xavier today?” He asks Logan, handing him his food also.

“No, he’s out on some special mission with Mystique right now, won’t be back for about another week.”

“And what does he have you doing? You never leave your room so I’m assuming he's’ got you doing something?” Hank stands next to Logan as they both talk back and forth.

“He has me teaching his third class and fifth class. I guess that one is the anger management class and the other is meditation.”

“Ah, so he’s got you teaching the two classes you used to fail in.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

After working in the lab, a lot shorter than usual, you actually head back to your room. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been ecstatic to meet Wolverine for years, and when you finally get to have a conversation with him, you just geek out on him about nanotech?

As you hang your bag on the wall and remove your jacket only to throw it on the back of your desk chair, you can’t help but want to just smash your head on a wall until you’ve forgotten about everything that’s happened today.

You mope as you walk into the centre of your small room, stopping and staring at the mess on your desk, a bunch of full notebooks covered in little pen markings of maths and science that no one else in the school would understand.

You walk to the desk, take one of the notebooks in your hand that had some free space left, and drop down on your bed. Reaching behind your head, you pull your sweater over your head and discard it on the floor before leaning against your headboard and clicking the back of your pencil until the led is at your desired length.

As soon as the tip of the led touches the paper, your mind wanders. That was so embarrassing… You realise, scribbling random maths into your notebook. I can’t believe I just made a professor hate me too… Not only had you dissociated, but you also completely nerded out. You talked about nanoparticles as if it was the only thing you cared about. You care about more though. You care about the family that was so scared of you they sent you off to this stupid school, calling you a freak and breaking all ties with you. No, you don’t care about them. But you care about your friends so much! You don’t have any friends. Hank is very special to you, he holds a space in your heart. A very, very small space. Yea he doesn’t care about you, you’ve just been able to make about a thousand breaks in his experiments. Then of course he would take all of the credit when he would show it to Professor X.

Why do you even try? I guess working with Hank is the equivalent of the other students going out to the mall with their friends. The only difference is he wasn’t your friend.

You take it back, you had one friend. If you could even call someone you only text cause you’re too scared for actual confrontation, a friend. Nightcrawler- or Kurt. The one guy who’s ever made an actual effort to try and be your friend, he’s just always out on missions. Or so that’s what his actual friends tell you. Maybe you should send him a text and actually verify whether he hates you or not… You get up from your bed and unzip your bag, sticking your hand into the pocket where you always shove your phone, but it’s not there. What the fuck? You take your bag off it’s hook and search the rest of the pockets, and still no phone. You go to your bed, searching under the covers and getting on your knees to check under the bed, still no phone. You check your desk, your discarded sweater, and you sweep the floor with your eyes looking for it, thinking it might’ve just fallen out of your pocket. You hate seeming desperate for a simple device that rots your brain to default, but God that phone is your escape.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” A voice cuts into your messy search as you turn around and your door is cracked just enough for him to stick his head in.

“Sorry, Mr. Howlett, I just can’t find my phone.” You chuckle awkwardly, standing in the centre of your room as he peeks around your room at the mess you’ve created.

“Again, you can call me Logan. I don’t mind it, I prefer it actually. Do you mind if I step in?”

“Yea, it’s fine. Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really had time to clean it.” You nervously link your fingers together in front of you and let your thumb pick at your skin as he comes in, closing the door gently behind him.

“It’s not a mess, just a sweater on the floor and notebooks on the bed.” Sweater on the floor. Of course. Yea, you were standing in the centre of your room, in your shorts and a black fucking clasp on bra. Now you suddenly feel naked standing in front of him, so you cross your arms, hoping to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

“Well uh, what’s up?” You try sounding cool but immediately cringe.

“You left this in the lab.” He tells you, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, handing it to you backside up, so you could see the glittery phone case, adorned with pink sparkles. “Was gonna give it to you in class but you kids go crazy over your phones.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go crazy…” You tell him, humour in your voice as you awkwardly look around your room, the sheets halfway off the bed and your pillows tossed in the middle, the result in the crazy search for your phone. “Would just be a little annoyed…”

“So is everything okay?”

“Yea, why do you ask?”

“I was knocking on your door and sayin’ your name. but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” You laugh dryly. “Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my head and kinda just block out all sounds and sometimes I’ll block out what’s in front of me."

“Oh I see.” What do I say to respond to that? “What were you working on?” Why is he still here?

“Honestly, I don’t know, I was just scribbling.”

“Had enough maths for the day?” He jokes.

“Had enough maths for the month.” You mumble, but then he laughs. A short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Isn’t he annoyed by you? Why is he still- “What would you be doin’ if Hank didn’t have you doing all this brain stuff?” Oh.

“Well uh, nothing probably.”

“Not one for hanging out with your friends?”

“Friends? Hah!” You laugh with sarcasm, then walk over to your discarded sweater, bending over to pick it up, deciding to distract yourself with cleaning. “It's not easy for a freak to make friends.” You mumble to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear, of course, he did.

“You’re not a freak.” He crosses his arms as you look over your shoulder at him.

“Yea sure. Everyone in the school would so easily disagree with you on that.” You say back, folding the sweater before tossing it into your dirty laundry basket. “Professor X won’t even let me leave the school because he doesn’t trust me. I’m sure you’re no different.” Shit that was supposed to be said in your head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’d smack yourself right now if it wouldn’t make you look stupid, if he wasn’t in your room still.

“So you think everyone’s the same?” He asks, more of a statement.

“No I- I don’t mean it like that. I just-” He clears his throat.

“Come here.” He demands, looking into your fucking soul. So of course, with a gaze as threatening as his. You stand right in front of him after you walk up to him like Bambi in a traffic headlight. Wobbly, and frozen. “Good, now look at me.” Oh, you forgot that part.

You looked away from his shirt, and tilted your head back to look up into his eyes and for a man who’s so adept at killing his eyes were so soft, and broken…

“If you didn’t randomly blank out, you would’ve also heard Xavier when he told you the only time you could leave, is if it’s with someone else in case there’s an emergency.”

“Emergency from what? Me losing my temper?”

“Exactly that.” Is what shuts you up. “When I said I know how you’re feeling, I meant it.” His voice softens, and you feel your throat knot as you hold back embarrassing tears. “It wasn’t easy for me to make friends either, but honestly I prefer to be in a small crowd. Normally I’m not the one to comfort a student, but you just don’t seem to want to talk to anyone. Why’s that?”

“I’ve tried talking to people. They just give me a look and then walk away.”

“Does that actually happen? Or is that just what it feels like?”

Shit. You hate to admit it, but he makes a point.

What the fuck. Was your next thought as his hand moved up and he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“I know you hate everyone at this school from the fucking bottom of your heart, but I’m gonna have you try to refrain from hating me. We can strike a deal by letting me take you out of the mansion. I’m sure you’d love to get out, can’t remember the last time you left.”

“Never have.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your voice is only quiet so your tears aren’t cascading down your face.

“Well if you can just promise to behave, and tell me when you’re getting stressed, then I’ll supervise you like Xavier wants.” He tells you, promising some sort of freedom. “I’m not saying I’m scared of you. If anyone is scared of what you can do, it’s you. Am I right?” You nod. “Use your words, bub.”

“Yea…” Your voice cracks as you barely mutter an entire word.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly, then he suddenly pulls you into a hug. “I’ve got you.” He gently rubs your back, which by the way is still bare since you never got to throw on another shirt. “Just cancel your plans with Hank, I can help you more than he ever will…”

He promises. His fingers gently run over the metal clasps on the back of your bra as you loosely wrap your arms around him, embracing his hug and you nod, not able to formulate any more words as you cry quietly against his chest, your tears wetting his shirt as you both stand there in silence. A quiet smirk on his face as he holds onto you…

[discotitsposts]

strawberry lipgloss part two- the date 🍓

sorry this took so long! since my birthday is soon, i’ll prob post this on my birthday, this is reader going on a date with spencer but he doesn’t know it’s her birthday because she didn’t tell him.

read part one here!

update posting this on my birthday whoo!!!

🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓

Spencer waits nervously at the restaurant for you, he’d chosen your favorite Italian place, it was close to your apartment and was familiar to you.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you with a restaurant you’d never been to and where you wouldn’t know the menu.

He checks his watch again, you’re not late yet, but time was cutting close and he’s starting to get worried.

Spencer’s mind races with maybes.

Maybe she didn’t actually want to and is going to cancel last minute. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she-

He looks up and sees you speaking with the hostess, she leads you to the table and Spencer stands up in awe of the way you’ve dressed.

A beautiful purple dress with strawberries on it, the strawberry scent just as strong, your hair done beautifully and you’re even wearing a small tiara in your hair.

Your lips, Spencer notices, are slick with lipgloss, strawberry lipgloss.

“You look absolutely radiant.” Spencer manages to say finally after staring for a while. You lean in and hug him tight.

“I’m so glad to be here with you Spencer.” You say sweetly, and smile. Your smile. You smiled at him like no one else mattered in the world except you and him.

“I’m glad too.” He says without really thinking. You had that effect on him.

“I love the tiara.” He smiles at the sparkly object in your beautiful hair.

“Thank you, it was a birthday gift for myself.”

Spencer freezes. Birthday? How could he have forgotten? Spencer never forgot anything. Then he realized. You’d never told anyone on the team your birthday.

“I..uh I didn’t know you had a birthday coming up.” He says nervously.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t really tell anyone because I didn’t feel like doing much. It’s actually today.”

Spencer’s eyes widen. Today? Your birthday is today?!

“Oh I’m so sorry I..Happy Birthday! I just so happened to get you a present without knowing.” He smiles and reaches for the gift he’d gotten you.

“Oh Spencer that’s so sweet you didn’t have to get me anything, except, I kind of got you something too.” You laugh and reach for a box too.

“You got me something?” Spencer laughs in disbelief.

You exchange the gifts and you open yours. Spencer had gotten you a perfume. Not just any perfume, a perfume in a strawberry shaped bottle. You gasp at how adorable it is.

“It’s strawberry scented too.” Spencer adds blushing as red as the strawberry shaped bottle.

You sniff the perfume sample included with the box.

“Oh Spencer I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you!” You beam at him and gesture him to open his gift.

He carefully unravels the ribbon, in the small box is a bookmark, with a quote by Nikola Tesla.

It reads: ‘The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.’

Spencer laughs heartily. The quote was deeply relatable and one of his favorites. Then he notices, there is a strawberry charm, an amethyst crystal charm, a book charm, and a microscope charm on the tassel of the bookmark.

“This is amazing. I love it. Where did you get such a gem?” Spencer smiles.

“I know you probably don’t need bookmarks because you probably just remember the page number but bookmarks are so cute and fun I had to. Also I didn’t buy it, I made it.” You blush a little. Proud he’d liked the gift you’d spent so much time on.

You both set your gifts down and stare at each other.

“You made this?” Spencer asks, clearly impressed. You nod and he stands up and hugs you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your ear.

“Thank you.” You whisper back. “I really love it, i’ve never owned strawberry perfume before.”

“Happy Birthday.” He says softly and then kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you!”

A waiter comes over and takes your orders. You order a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs to share.

“The portions are huge! It’s a big plate of spaghetti and they add this sauce that is absolutely divine and the meatballs are perfect.” You gush over the spaghetti this restaurant serves while Spencer smiles in adoration.

He decides to be bold and reaches across the table nervously and takes your hand in his. You smile at the gesture and your plate comes out.

Spencer’s eyes go wide at the amount of spaghetti. You give him a look that says ‘I told you so’ and a smirk.

You guys eat and talk and laugh for the longest time. Spencer found you so easy to talk to and didn’t feel annoying for rambling in the slightest. When he rambled, you sat there and listened intently.

When you get to the end of the spaghetti you realize this is just like ‘Lady and the Tramp’ because Spencer rolls the last meatball onto your side of the plate for you to have.

You eat it and move to some of the last of the spaghetti and then you both realize the last of the spaghetti is just one long strand and your lips move closer and closer.

Both your lips meet in the middle of the noodle and you kiss. Spencer’s eyes widen and he bites the noodle so you can eat the last of it.

You laugh at the silly moment and Spencer chuckles.

“Tastes like strawberries.” Spencer comments making you laugh again. He loves making you laugh.

You hold up the strawberry lipgloss from before and are about to reapply when Spencer clears his throat.

“Let me, please?” He asks and you smile and nod to give the okay.

Spencer squeezes the tube until enough product comes up and yet again rubs it on your lips until they’re shiny and covered in the sweet scent. He twists the cap back on and hands it back to you.

“Luscious, aren’t they?” You ask pouting your lips and posing. Spencer nods in awe of the beauty glowing from within you.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” You tell him.

“Me too. Usually they’ve ran out the door by now.” Spencer jokes, something he found easy with you.

You laugh, “Who would ever run from you Spencer? You’re amazing.”

Spencer blushes and holds your hand and you leave the restaurant together and you squeeze his hand lovingly.

When he walks you to your apartment and reaches the door he waits for you to unlock it.

You two stand in the doorway and Spencer gets close to you and whispers, “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

You nod in agreeance and lean in closer until your lips meet again. When you finally pull away you decide to make a joke.

“That was better without a spaghetti noodle in between us.”

Spencer cracks up, “Hey don’t knock the spaghetti kiss, it was romantic, and at least we got to eat it. Hey,” He stares at your lips. “I think you need more lipgloss now.”

“What’s the point? It’s gonna get messed up again anyway.” You smirk and lead him to the couch. Spencer smiles.

Nothing could ever top the way you make him feel. Loved.

the end 💘

tags- 🍓

if you’d like to be tagged in all future works you can comment a 🍓

@whoisspence @starshinegarcia @fictionalobssed @exoticisles @in-another-april @gallifreyan-idiocracy

people who wanted to be tagged in part two 🍓

@exhaleli @moonysreid @reidsatellite @fandoms-allovertheplace @kissesforspence @shibugs @khxna

idk why it wouldn’t tag some people. but thank you to anyone who liked part one enough to ask for part two i appreciate it sm😭💘

we are all strawberries.

watching ldsk in season one right now lmao

also face reveal this is me:

[hi-sierra]

Biologics, chapter 0.5

Hello, hello! I finally have added a significant amount to my story, Biologics, resulting in a total of ~4400 words. Not a whole ton, I know, but unfortunately life gets to ya. It isn't quite where I want it to be to consider a proper chapter one, but I feel like there's enough written for me to post. General warning that this is intended to heavily lean into the theme of "eroticism of the machine", so if that doesn't appeal to you, you've been warned. It does, however, have many general sci fi worldbuilding elements, so I hope it has a somewhat broad appeal!

So yes, if you already read the first snippet, that's going to be mostly a one to one repeat with some grammatical adjustments. Feel free to scroll down until you get to the new stuff. Flow-wise, there just wasn't a good place to break between the two sections.

Look at me rambling. And I wonder why I can't get any of this stuff done. Anyways, here it is!

Biologics

Pappy always said that manufacturing biological transportation was nothing knew. I mean, shit, humanity's been breeding horses for how long? To him, not much was novel about what was going on in the shipyards way out by Neptune when I was a kid.

But Pappy didn't know a lot of things. And he certainly didn't meet Roseanna.

The Federation Navy had experimented with Biologics for decades. The idea was to create self regenerating ships- organic matter that interfaced with the hull, moving new titanium plates and patches into place down to microscopic precision. If you had a living, growing mass interfacing with steel, a ship didn't have to head all the way back to the yards to patch up after every dogfight.

The first generation... worked. With a full time crew, that is. Full time people on deck jabbin the rigid, chitonous matrix full of growth hormones to get them to set just right. Full time onboard bioengineers to compute what signaling cocktail ya need to hit 'em with to get it to grow back right. Skilled onboard technicians to shave back the chitin when it tried to overgrow the titanium, and slap some new cells in to seed the process in heavily damaged areas. Less input material, less time in the yards, but far more manpower. Great for a Federation cruiser on deep space peacekeeping missions. Far too complex for small craft. Right?

Until some bastard put brains in 'em.

Well. A lotta suits would say that they weren't brains. They were a diffuse network of sensory neurons and ganglia, living inside the body of the ship, integrating signals from a skin of alloyed metal and fibrous protein, calculating power draw too and from various components, integrated with the mechanical and electrical components of the ship to precisely manage the "wound healing" process of the vessel. And of course, it just so happened that one of those ganglia was larger and more complex than the rest of them, and it just so happened that the computer interfaces with this ganglia exhibit complex, thinking behaviors on the level of human cognition, and it just so happens that most pilots and navigators reported them developing their own personalities.....

But of course, the Navy didn't want anyone to have some kind of pesky empathy in the way of their operations. And they certainly didn't want anyone side eyeing the rate at which they disposed of the damn things, just to let them suffer and rot. So as far as the official record was concerned, they weren't brains. But I knew different.

Like most people in the belt, I found Rosie on an... unsponsored field trip to the Neptune scrap yards. She wasn't a ship then. She wasn't much of anything. Not much more than a vat with the central ganglia and just barely enough of the stem cells needed to regrow a network. But I took her all the same. Brains were valuable. Few pilots outside the Navy had them back then. Nowadays, a black market for "brain seeds", a cocktail of neuronal stem cells and enough structural stem cells to grow your own into the chassis of your ship, was thriving. The Navy was pumpin' em out, and leaving them to die. It was cruel. Sometimes, being scavenged and resold was a kinder fate. But more often, some nasty piece of work would pick them up eventually, and treat them like just another goddamn ship. They may be vehicles, but they're a livin' being too.

I digress. I'd never do that to Roseanna. I make sure she gets proper care. And for a good, proper, working ship? That includes some good, proper work.

The asteroid we were docked in was one of my usuals- good bars, nice temp quarters, nice views of the rock's orbiting twin, and a spacious hanger for Rosie to rest in. The chassis I had imprinted Roseanna to was a 40-meter light skipper, with some adjustments for handling deep space trips, as well as some... personal touches. It was pretty much the smallest thing you could actually use to live in and work for long periods of time, but it got the job done. The angular design made the entire ship look like a wedge, or the blade of a bulky dagger. It didn't hurt that each bottom edge was fortified with a sharpened titanium blade, turning the entire sides of the ship into axe-like rams.

Those would probably come in handy today.

I approached Roseanna on the catwalk above her, marveling her alloyed scales. I could almost see her shudder in anticipation as my footsteps vibrated through the air above her. I took the steps down, and hit the trigger to open her top hatch.

When the news got out of the Navy scuffling with a rebelling mining station, an electric air raced across the station. Some went about their day as normal. Some resigned themselves to picking at the leftovers after the dust had settled. And some, like me, knew that they could get the finest pickings.

I slipped into the pilot's seat like it was an old boot.

"Welcome, Captain Victoria."

Rosie could talk, but more often than not, she chose not to. But she understood me just fine. Most of our communication took place using her three prerecorded lines- her welcome statement, affirmative, and negative- as well as a tiny screen showing a small, emoticon face. Many pilots chose to give their ships an elaborate render, but Rosie preferred it this way. It was the first face I gave her, from somewhere out of the scrap heaps, and she refused any offer I made to upgrade. Hell, she even had a hi-res screen for external cameras and comms, but she refused to interface directly with it. Secretly, I was overjoyed. To me, the little pixelated screen was her face. That was her voice. And it was beautiful to see her true self through them.

I brushed my hands across her paneling. Across the switches, the hydraulic controls for the plasma fuel, the steering, the boosts, the comms channels. The thing with Biologics was that you were still the pilot. For whatever reason, they hadn't quite gotten to the point where the brains could take over their own piloting. My personal opinion was just that their personalities lacked the ambition to. Cuz they certainly could take over some ships functions directly, and had the skill to do complex mechanical and electrical tasks. The Navy never let 'em drive, though, and most pilots didn't even know they could give them the ability to control any of the ships functions directly. But with a little help, a little bit of solid engineering, and a pilot that knew their ship... well, you could do a lot. And me and Rosie? We knew each other well. Over the years, I'd added some nice things for her, and she loved using them to help me out.

As my fingers touched the brushed aluminum controls, rimmed with chitinous layers affixing them to the ship, I could feel the walls around me holding their invisible breath. "Do you know what we're doing today, Rosie?"

Her tiny panel flickered on.

[...?]

"We got a scrap run."

[ ^_^]

[ :) ]

[ ^_^ ]

Her panel flicked between various expressions of excitement. My finger quivered on the main power, holding for a moment before flicking it on. The primary electronics of the ship hummed to life, and the parts Rosie controlled pulsed with it. My hands moved across the main functional panels- main hydraulic plasma valve, exhaust ports open, and finally, flicking the switch the start the plasma burner.

My hands gripped the steering. The hanger's airlock doors opened in front of me. My neck length hair started to float as the station's gravity shut off. I hit the switch to unlatch from the supports above. For a moment, we hang there. The dull crackle of the idling plasma burner is the only sound that resonates through Rosie's hull.

Go time. I punch the boost.

The station shakes. Rosie was never a subtle one.

The mechanics are deafened.

The crowd of spectators are deafened.

The other pilots in the hanger are deafened.

But me? The vibrations of Rosie's hull shuddering under me was the sweetest symphony my ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. As we shot out of that hanger, I found myself involuntarily humming a high note, harmonizing with the sweet rumble of my baby's acceleration as we shoot out into the inky, black expanse of space. The twin asteroids shot by us as we disappeared, leaving only the faint blue plasma trail from our engines.

My hand is firm on the boost, weathered hands tightly gripping the bar of the accelerator. I remember installing this thing in her- it was an aftermarket adjustment, not included in the usual light skipper chassis. Gently stripping away the back of her chassis, caressing her insides as I rooted the paneling, firmly attaching the tanks and burners on her insides... these hands had taken great pleasure in that. Bested only, of course, by the first time I had felt the thing roar to life.

And what a feeling it was. Rosie's entire chassis, biological and mechanical, shuddering under my grasp. The grip of my calloused hands on the boost controls, tight and sweaty around the ridged grip of the horizontal bar. The noises she made, as if to shout in glee and wild abandon at being unchained and let loose into the eternal field of space, as she was made to do. The gentle touch of her skin on my back, my body pressed in contact with the small fraction of hers that was my seat. I glanced down at her face panel.

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

[ :| ]

[ :D ]

My humming gave way to a chuckle, and then a wholehearted, exhilarated laugh. Someone was enjoying herself. The flickering faces on her panel reminded me of the happily panting station dogs back on Mars.

But as much as I would like this to just be a joyride, I had promised Rosie a scrap run. And the pickings were looking good. I glanced down at the nav. I was intentionally headed at a slightly indirect angle- Rosie's boost was her main attractive feature (both as a ship, and as a working partner), and the extra leeway I had in travel time let me strategize a bit more. I doubted we would be the first people there, but I figured we could get in before the main rush. The only trouble was darting in and grabbing something right from under the noses of the first locusts. The scrap field in question included a disabled heavy mining freighter, a goliath of the ship larger than some of the asteroids it made supply runs between. I assumed that most other scavengers would be approaching directly from our station, and the other stations in its proximity. With Rosie's boost, we could overshoot, hook around, and put the freighter in between us and the guns of the more violent craft. Rosie has no long range weapons of any kind- not only would they slow down her miraculous speed, but she didn't like them. I tried installing a small plasma cannon once, and she expressed immense distaste. Maybe they were too brutish for her, or maybe she didn't like the way they felt inside her, burdening her with pressure from the inside that didn't befit the delicate touches I usually graced her with. Rosie loved speed, precision, elegance, and stealth above all else. It's just the kind of ship she was.

That's not to say she was a pacifist, or defenseless. Quite the contrary. She just prefers a more... personal touch.

The navicom beeped at me. We'd reached the point where we needed to make that hook. My bare feet gently swept across the titanium flooring to the steering pedals. My right hand delicately gripped the steering joystick, while my left eased its grip on the boost accelerator.

"Ready for this, darling?"

[ >:) ]

I slammed the steering to the left, and Rosie gleefully complied. The wide bank of the turn as we rotated and soared through the sea of stars twisted my body in its inertia, compressing me further into her. As the angle straightened out to the proper heading, I punched the boost again, and Rosie roared forward.

Slowly, our target came into sight. Damn. This thing had taken some serious damage. Mining freighters typically weren't heavily armored- their only job was to get material from point A to B- but this one had clearly been through some serious modifications. Modifications that now lay in ruin. Titanium plating was scattered in a field around the core of the freighter. I couldn't quite tell what was stuff left behind by the battle, and what was the result of shoddy craftmanship- but it didn't matter. What did matter was that the entire thing had been split almost in half, and the scattered cargo that was leaking out. Cargo that most likely included half the weapon supplies of this little rebel faction. Would fetch a pretty penny, to the right buyer. And hell, if it was just gonna sit here unclaimed...

Ah shit. It wasn't gonna sit here unclaimed. Despite my best efforts, it looks like we weren't the first ones here. A larger scavenger gang had already arrived, and it looks like it was one of the ones I knew- Augustus and his lot. Most likely, they'd be after the weapons intact, one more thing to use to shakedown the scattered independent stations I always flitted between. He would not be happy to see me n Rosie here. What he called his "fleet" was a single, mid-sized carrier ship, about half the size of the freighter we were looting, and the dozen or so scout fighters and strip mining crafts he had looted from the Navy and various corps, and one Biologic that he called his. I respect that part, to be honest. What I don't respect is him immediately turning around and using that charge every goddamn station his ever-increasing "protection fees". Not to mention my personal disdain for the way he treated his ship. Didn't even give her a damn name. I digress. But any chance to loot something from under that slimebag's nose was a win in my book. I knew he wasn't gonna make it easy, though.

Welp. That's what our positioning was for. The side facing us was the main starboard face, and like the rest of the ship, it was peppered in small holes and gashes. Seems like the main damage had happened from the other side, and a few cables and scaffolds on the starboard just barely kept the two rear cargo compartments clinging to the front.

"Alright Rosie, time to creep it in slow. Be quiet, now, don't want them picking up a plasma surge"

[ :| ]

Ha. That was her "my lips are sealed" face. She's having fun with this already.

I cut the booster, coasting closer and closer to the bust open vessel. I eased the reverse thrusters ever so slightly, my fingers gently stroking the dual brake levers, lightly teasing at them to wait until we were as close as I thought we could be without attracted attention.......... before slamming both sides back towards me. For just one, crucial moment.

The goal here was to approximately match the speed and trajectory of a floating piece of titanium plating. Rosie's frontal blades were essentially that, anyways, so all they would see is a somewhat more angular piece of rubble. Hopefully they hadn't seen that same piece of rubble screaming out of travel speed, but I was cautious enough with my distances that I didn't think that was a problem. And they hadn't seen me yet. Once we were close enough to the freighter itself, we were blocked from their raw sightline, and Rosie was running quiet enough to not tip off any of their energy sensors.

But there was still no guarantee. Rosie, however, had no shortage of tricks. Something that she and I had developed together was a nice little bit of snooping. Well cared for and well trained, a Biologic brain had the problem solving of a human, and the computational power of a machine. But them together, and you've got a perfect decoder. And I happened to know that Augustus used an encrypted local frequency to keep his

"Alright Rosie, thinkin you can eavesdrop a little?"

Affirmative.

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[..!]

:D

My comms crackled to life. "...7 heavy cannons in center-front portside bay, 3 replacement fighter hatchs...."

The comms crackled back and forth, with each pilot giving updates to what they were finding in their own little segment that they were slicing apart. Occasionally, I saw Augustus or the fighters flick between the slicing ships, overseeing their progress on the port bays. Good. Let them focus on the other side for now. Slowly, the fleet was overshadowed by the freighter. We made it. I released my breath- shit, didn't realize I was holding it- and took a better look at what we were dealing with. It looked as if the scattered debris field had mostly been the remnants of the hull, as well as light weapons for small craft and even infantry. They would fetch some small change, sure, but Rosie's cargo capacity was small. Packing efficiency was the name of the game. I saw the gash that it had all been flooding out of on this side- the entire freighter was covered in them- and peered inside. And ho boy, did my heart flutter.

Heavy cannons.

Jump-graded travel boosters.

Raw, precious metals.

And, hidden in the back corner, seemingly bolted into the wall.... a brain.

We'd hit jackpot, and potentially rescued a poor ship from abandonment, or worse.

"Alright Rosie. Time to get to work."

Affirmative.

And here was another lil something that made Rosie special- her manipulation arms . She always preferred that delicate touch, and wanted to interact with the world in a tactile, real way. So we worked on it. Together. I was tired of taking spacewalks to grab small pieces of scrap, or using the entire goddamn cargo bay on a piece that only had a tiny core, or scraps of precious metals inside. So we needed something that could pluck apart our finds. Do some light disassembly in the field, extract what was valuable, and load it in with the most packing efficiency possible. So I gave her arms- snake like appendages, coiled up in her cargo bay, with thousands of points of articulation. At first, I tried to make some kind of control system that I could use from the cockpit. But Rosie had a different idea. At her urged, I jacked them directly into the same sensory and motor systems that let her grip onto, position, and repair her hull. And by god, it worked.

When I showed her off the first time, no one had ever seen anything like it. Because there was nothing like it. A ship taking real mechanical control, over something so precise and delicate, was something that only a deeply intelligent, deeply skilled ship, with complex decision making and tactile movement could do.

And I was goddamn proud of her.

Every time she deployed them, I watched awe. Rosie gave a face of determination, and sinuous, metallic, tentacle-like appendages slid out in a bundle from the cargo bay opening on her underside. Each one was headed off by a different attachment- a precision laser cutter, a simple three-pointed grabbing claw, a drill, a tiny buzzsaw, camera that let me see what was going on, and more. Each one could be swapped out, depending on the task at hand. With eight of them slithering out from her cargo bay, though, there was usually something for everything. They extended out as a single bouquet, down through the hole of the cargo compartment, and split apart once inside. Each arm got to work.

Her observation monitor flickered on, giving me a view from the camera arm. I would've liked to get the brain out first, but two heavy cannons and a booster blocking the way anyways. We'd cut through that, picking off the energy cores and precious metals in the circuits as we go, and work our way towards the back. Rosie seemed to like the plan as well. My only job was to watch the comms, and watch the sensors.

I watched the camera as the petite tools of the arms excised and picked apart the titanium shell of the first heavy cannon. Her tools- the delicate 'fingers' of her arms- picked, pulled, tugged, and gently gripped every necessary notch, every joined titanium plate that needed to be undone, ever scrap of precious material. Firm, yet precise. Strong, yet never breaking or mishandling a single piece of cargo. As Rosie worked, my eyes darted across the energy sensors. I could see blips firing off as the ships on the other side of the freighter as the slicing ships worked and flitted between their stations from the other side. The comms crackled with their reports to Augustus- they seemed to be moving back and forth to the main carrier to drop off their hauls. It seemed like they had a lot to go through- we'd have plenty of time.

On the camera view, I could see a grabbing claw retracting back through the cargo bay. The first cannon had the back section cleanly excised from the massive barrel and chassis, leaving a path for the tools to get to the booster. The precious energy cell was sliding its way back into Rosie's cargo bay. God damn. She was quick with that. The laser cutter and saw were already making short work of the booster, too. We'd get to the brain in no time.

The chatter on the other line continued. We were still safe, but Augustus' crew had made more progress than I had hoped. Once the slicers had picked apart the port, they'd loop around to the starboard. We had to grab what we could as fast as we can- but I knew neither me or Rosie was gonna leave without that brain. Rosie gracefully sliced the fuel cell and ignition from the plasma burner, leaving the bracketing and vents behind. The second heavy cannon was soon to follow. Each cut through each piece had left a winding path towards the back of the chamber, allowing a physical path to what I had seen just barely poking through: a container for a genuine ship's brain. Rosie slid her camera arm in for a closer look.

The brain was bolted into the chassis of the ship, as well as some containers of growth factor. Seemed like the intent was to grow her in to this freighter. That was certainly an ambitious task, but if they knew what they were doing, it would be well worth it. A self-repairing, intelligent hauler as large as this one would be the heart and soul of resistance movements everywhere, supplying every backwater mining station or moon that longed to be free. Unfortunately, the brave and principled can still be stupid, and these chucklefucks had no idea what they were doing. Slapped in a random cargo bay, desperately trying to get growth out from there with no proper imprinting guidance... shame. If they'd've found me before running into the Navy, I might've helped them out. But at least now, we could give her a better life. I knew a lot of good, caring pilots that would take loving care of a fine ship like her.

From what I could tell, we were still safe from Augustus. Based on what I was hearing on the comms, each slicer was working on its last cargo hold subsection, and after that, they'd be poking around this side. We had to get this brain and get out.

Tenderly, her claw arm gripped the top of the brain's chamber, as her other fingers started working on the rivets. A saw would bust through part of the titanium bracket holding the chamber down, and when it got too close to the container itself, laser cutters took over, delicately slicing off each affixation point one by one. Rosie worked in a clockwise direction, first working down the three riveting points on the right, sawing off the bottom bracket, and then working up the rivets on the left.

C'mon Rosie. You got this. Just need the top plate....

"Finishing up there, slicer 5T?"

Shit. That was Augustus on the comms.

"Sure thing boss. Just gotta get this load to central. Mind if someone takes a peek on the other side for parasites before I get there?"

Shit.

"Sure thing. Fighter 3A, get your ass in gear and make a full pass of the ship."

An energy spike pinged on my sensor panels as the fighter revved up a booster.

"Gotcha boss. Starting at aft segment."

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit

We still had a sliver of time before we were seen. They'd wanna get a good pass everywhere- there were ships far stealthier than us out there. But it was minutes at most. We had to finish up.

"Rosie, how're we doing there? You done?"

Negative.

[ ;( ]

"Fuck. Rosie, we gotta get outta here."

Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative. Affirmative.

Rosie-speak for "I know, I know, I know"

My eyes were fixed to the scanner and my cockpit windows for a visual, but I spared one moment to check Rosie's cam. She was finishing sawing through the top bracket. Just a little more....

"Aft clear, moving to starboard cargo bays."

The brain snapped off of the hull, and Rosie's claws were zipping it back to her cargo bay. I revved the engines into standby. The arms tenderly guided it through the path we had cleared, and out through the hole in the hull. We might be able to barely slip away without them knowing.....

I looked up through the cockpit, just as the dinged-up, formerly Navy fighter showed itself from behind a piece of debris. It froze for a moment, and then lined its nose to face me. Cannon ports shifted open, and slowly took aim.

"Well shit, Augustus, you're gonna wanna see this. Get your ass over here, I'm switching to public comms."

I heard slight fuzz as he switched his channel.

"Alright, leech, I'll keep this simple. You have thirty seconds to relinquish your haul before you join the debris."

For a single, cold moment, I swear I made eye contact with him through our cockpits.

[rainbowsylvie]

There are probably Pokémon adapted to environments so hyperspecific that even if people did find them they’d never be able to actually have them due to not being able to survive outside it, just like some life in the real world

It would be nice to see them in spin-off games though, like a new game that’s something like Pokémon snap and legends arceus where you’re sent to document Pokémon such as these, maybe you’re given a Pokémon that can withstand such environment but don’t necessarily need them to surviveoh fuck tardigrade Pokémon this is how they can introduce tardigrade Pokémon this is how tardigrade Pokémon can STILL WIN!

Anyway. Areas like this can include obvious places like the deep sea or high up in the mountains where oxygen is thin, as well as places with high radiation or high up in the atmosphere where rayquaza lives(could be a late or endgame area because of that), hot springs and places on the extreme ends of the ph scale may be difficult to document but they may be worth it

Pokémon could include pallas cats(could be a variant or a new Pokémon), blobfish(do NOT remove them you know damn well what happens), yeti crabs(perhaps a deep sea crabominable variant), that snail with the iron shell, brittle stars and perhaps some Pokémon based on lesser known eukaryotes, such as halophilic fungi, and even Pokémon that live in places real life creatures have no chance in. This is a fantasy world, do whatever.

Now the creatures that live in these areas are usually, well, Fucking Tiny, but if a tick can be 4 inches, I think they can make microscopic creatures be inch big Pokémon. This can also be where the camera comes in, it will have a big zoom function so you can get up really close to the little guys without having to act get near them. The aforementioned tardigrade Pokémon could help you interact with the environment if you’re unable to for whatever reason, such as a hot spring or a place too radioactive for most life or you’re in a small submersible in the ocean or That Is Actual Fucking Lava. You could also be supplied with a ditto to help you with further documentation, since while you can’t use the actual Pokémon, a ditto can help fill in the gaps pretty well if they’re just as able to withstand the environment as well as the Pokémon they’re copying.

The game won’t be focused in one specific region, but various areas around the world, both preexisting and new regions. I have a thought for a tiny, undiscovered Pokémon near the hot springs in hoenn, or something that only lives within stark mountain in the battle zone near sinnoh, perhaps even a Pokémon that somehow migrated there from firespit island from the hisui days, and you can’t tell me paldea’s area zero Doesn’t have some hyperadapted Pokémon in there, maybe in the water at the bottom, though I don’t think you’d be allowed there for a While(lategame area probably). Pokémon world Antarctica, Iceland, and Yellowstone are not safe from documentation. When exploring regions, only small parts will be available to you, such as the locations previously mentioned.

Now a lot of people probably wouldn’t like a game with almost entirely new Pokémon look at black and white’s initial reception and variants, almost none of which that you can even use not counting ditto copies, but since this would be a spinoff mostly used to help with world building, I’d say those people can Suck It Up and let us have our fun, pokemon doesn’t have to cater to you specifically all the time, you may like the battles, but some of us enjoy worldbuilding and speculative biology.

I don’t have any concept art at the moment as I started writing this down shortly before dinner, but I’ll reblog this post with some once I have enough.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: arrow worms

Get ready for a wriggly Wednesday, because we have wormsign! When people think of animals, we tend to think of things like dogs, cats, elephants, and so on. However, animals like that are actually on the large side, most animals are much smaller. There are whole ecosystems out there filled with creatures so small you wouldn't even notice them unless you were looking. And any ecosystem needs a predator. This is where arrow worms come in, the apex predators of the planktonic realm.

(Image: a microscope image of an arrow worm. It is an elongated, tube-shaped animal with fins on either side and a small tail fin. The animal is a translucent white and organs are visible through the skin. Next to it are a measuring instrument and a small crustacean. End ID)

Arrow worms are members of the phylum Chaetognatha, which means "bristle jaw". They used to be thought of as their own thing with no surviving relatives, but they have recently been grouped together with rotifers and other tiny animals in a clade called Gnathifera. You know how there's no such thing as a fish because all the different things we call fish are actually really distinct from each other? Yeah, it's even worse for worms. At least most things we call fish are all in the same phylum. Arrow worms are in a completely different phylum from roundworms, flatworms, proboscis worms, segmented worms, etc, but most people just lump them all together as worms. Arrow worms are really small, the largest species getting to about 10 cm long and most being considerably smaller than that. They have torpedo-shaped bodies with external fins that are the source of the name. People thought they looked like the fletching on arrows. Most species are transparent, but some deep-sea species are orange.

(Image: the front end of an arrow worm seen biting a larval fish. The fish is translucent and skeletal. The worm has sharp bristles at the bout that are gripping the fish. End ID)

Arrow worms have three body segments, the head, trunk, and tail, divided from each other by internal membranes. The outside of the body is protected by a tough but flexible cuticle. The head is elongated and at the tip is the mouth. On either side of the mouth 4 - 14 curved spines that are attached to flexible muscle. The spines are used to grab prey and move it into the mouth. In some species, the spines can inject neurotoxin into prey to help kill it. When not in use, the mouth and spines are covered by a membrane to help streamline the animal. The mouth leads to a muscular pharynx (throat) that uses mucus to help food pass into the intestine, where the food is digested. I have found sources that say the intestine leads to an anus and other sources that say that arrow worms have no anus and excrete their waste through the skin. Most sources go with the worms having no anus. Also on the head are a pair of compound eyes (which are reduced or absent in some deep-sea or cave species) and a ring of cilia that probably sense chemicals. All over the body are bristles that sense the movement of the water. The nervous system is very simple and is centered on a nerve ring that circles the pharynx and leads out to the rest of the body. Arrow worms have no respiratory system, they absorb dissolved oxygen through the skin. The circulatory system is very simple. Arrow worms have a pair of lateral fins on either side of the body and a tail fin post-anus. Arrow worms are also one of the few animals species that act as host for giant viruses.

(Image: an image of an arrow worm with the organs and body parts labeled. Sourced from Wikipedia. End ID))

Arrow worms are simultaneous hermaphrodites, meaning they possess male and female sex organs at the same time. The male gonads develop first, making them protandric. The testicles are located at the base of the neck. Sperm is placed in a capsule called the spermatophore and ejected from the body at an organ called the seminal vesicle. During mating, each partner puts a spermatophore on the other's back. The spermatophore then releases sperm, which swim down a groove on the back to reach the oviduct, where eggs are released from the ovaries, along the tail. Fertilization happens either as the eggs are released or just after. Most species release their eggs to the water, but some will attach them to algae or carry them in a pouch on the back. Most arrow worms are semelparous, meaning they mate only once then die. Unusually for marine invertebrates, arrow worms do not have a larval stage. The offspring are miniature adults. The maximum observed lifespan for an arrow worm was 15 months.

(Image: an electron microscope image of the head of an arrow worm. The mouth is wide and has the scythe-like bristles emerging from either side. The head is attached to a long neck that is narrower than the mouth. End ID)

Arrow worms live worldwide in every marine habitat, including the deep sea and caves. Of all the marine zooplankton, only copepods have a greater global biomass. Most species are swimmers, but about 20% of known species live on the seafloor. They are ambush predators, moving slowly or staying still until prey comes within range, then darting forward to catch it. Arrow worms have the fastest muscle contractions of any animal, which helps with their quick charges. To swim, they wriggle their bodies up and down. A common swimming pattern is to swim upwards then glide downwards, over and over again. Pelagic species are known to practice diel vertical migration, a mass migration of countless species of animal that migrate to shallow water at night, then back to deep water in the day. Juveniles tend to live in shallower water than adults and larger species are generally found in colder water. Their primarily prey is copepods and water fleas, but they will also eat amphipods, krill, and the eggs and larvae of fish and invertebrates. Some species are cannibalistic. Some reports indicate certain species may be omnivores who also feed on algae and organic detritus. Arrow worms are a crucial food source for many larger animals, including commercially important species. Not a lot is known about their natural behavior as it is hard to simulate their conditions in the lab and hard to observe them in the wild.

(Image: the head of an arrow worm emerging from off-screen. The mouth is open and a copepod is in the process of being consumed. End ID)

[brotrustmeicanwrite]

if you're struggling with lore and world-building and everything you come up with sounds stupid let me tell you something: even the most ridiculous ideas can work if justified properly

i present to you

✨cocaine spiders of ikea✨

this idea first started when a friend of mine was taking a biology exam about the nervous system, reflexes, and learned behaviors. it described an experiment where spiders were fed caffeine to see how the shape of their webs would change. unfortunately, he read cocaine instead of caffeine and couldn't stop laughing for so long that he had to be given extra time. him being a DnD dungeon master and me being one of the players, we of course started playing with that idea once I asked him about what he kept randomly giggling about all day. somehow ikea became part of the idea, badminton had something to do with it, I think, and eventually, what started as the brainstorming version of a top-tier shit-post between two nerds became a proper concept and a canon part of my character's backstory:

cocaine spiders (we never found a proper name) are essentially nanobots my DnD character Levia (an ancient angel) created millions of years ago that work just like Hiro's bots from Big Hero 6 to help him with his experiments of creating artificial souls. they are pure white and so small that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a pile of them and some flour without a good microscope. then the world almost ended, adam kadmon the creator god vanished, and Levia was sent on a mission to wander the earth and record history to report back to adam so he would be up to date on everything just in case he ever came back. but adam never returned. Levia wandered the earth for so long that his mind reached the limits of its capacity and he started forgetting his past and the things he had created. as a result, the cocaine spiders too were forgotten and had to survive on their own from then on. their source of energy had always been Levia's magic but that wasn't an option anymore. their hunger combined with their natural drive to seek out souls resulted in them developing the strategy of crawling into the lungs of any and all living beings they could find and eating them from the inside out. but that didn't even come close to fulfilling their nutritional needs if they actively hunted. a human body compared to an angel's magic is truly a pathetic difference in energy. so they copied mimics, went into hibernation, and took on the forms of pure white trinkets and furniture to wait for their victims to come to them. as society progressed and developed modern drugs, the spiders realized that they could avoid even the struggle of their victims trying to fight them off as they crawled into their lungs by simply lining up right next to the lines their victims had put on the table when no one was looking. no one who had the misfortune of coming into contact with them ever survived the encounter and it is believed that the people who vanished simply pissed off whoever they bought their drugs from and were "taken care of".

that DM friend later on used the cocaine spiders in another campaign with his friends from uni. the looks those people gave me when we first met and they realised the cocaine spiders are mostly my fault... seasoned players with years of horror campaign experience and apparently the cocaine spiders were the most horrifying encounter they've ever had in all their time playing.

✨cocaine spiders of ikea✨

[redbleedingrose]

omg so in response to your “period hormones have me all over the place” post and as someone who is also dying on my period today…. how do you think our fav acotar boys would be with their girl on their period😭

You know... I am about to start my period so why not! Here are some short and sweet headcanons for you <333

Rhysand

Okay so Rhysand gives me such "gift giving is my love language" energy. I literally adore him and he would adore his mate so much.

He would be so worried about you while you are on your period, especially if you are in a lot of pain. He would do just about anything to make sure he can take that away from you. Maybe he would use his powers to mentally take that pain away and replace it with more feelings of comfort and warmth.

He would get you the best herbal supplements to soothe any cramping you might be experiencing, and would absolutely buy the best chocolate and pastries in Valeris for you. He would probably buy out the entire bakery just for you.

He takes the time while you are on your period off so he can dote on you, making sure you stay hydrated and are resting well. He would cuddle with you hours upon hours, softly rubbing your sore back or belly and pressing in kisses to your cheeks.

Azriel

Omggg Azriel. I think he is one of the best ACOTAR mates, like I genuinely cannot wait for his book. So loving and attentive this male is, he knows weeks before that you are about to get your period.

He absolutely notices the small shift in your scent, a little bit deeper and more rich than it usually is. He can feel the microscopic widening of your hips, and can tell that your breasts are slightly heavier than usual. So he prepares weeks in advance for your period.

He has the best warming pack for you ready the second you start your period. He has your favorite books picked out so he can read them to you while you rest on his chest, his wing wrapped around you keeping you warm. He has salves for your belly that will soothe any ache almost instantly. He goes into extensive research mode looking for the best foods and best drinks to have while you are on your period, the foods and drinks that will relieve your pain the most and make you the most comfortable.

IDK about you, but while I am on my period, I get hot and cold flashes. I think his illyrian heat and cuddles have you covered for any cold flashes. But hot flashes??? His shadows are always leaving cool whispered touches across your sweaty skin. They love playing with you in general, but when you are on your period, they are running smooth strokes all over your body to cool you down.

Cassian

Recently, I have been feeling some type of way for this male. I don't think he would realize until the day of that you are starting your period, but omg would he take the best care of you.

He would insist you take the day off and relax. I have a secret hunch that Cassian is actually an amazing chef. IDK I could totally see him having his own apron and chefs hat and just whipping up the most nutritious and delicious meal for you. He would also make you smoothies using the freshest fruit so you are getting some fiber and extra vitamins that you need during this time.

He would absolutely give you the best massages in the world, rubbing out all the knots all over your body because of course, he would insist on a full body massage. "I have to do it all baby, holistic medicine, you know?"

Ugh the smug smirk he would say that with, I cannot your honor

I think Cassian would keep you entertained the entire time you are relaxing. You just have the most fun with him, he is absolutely the funniest male who has the best stories to share about his past. He is also the most busy body member of the inner circle, so he is filling you in with all the hot and juicy gossip about everyone.

And I know he would tell you all while absentmindedly rubbing your belly and pressing occasional kisses into your skin.

Ugh I love him

Eris

Oh my god, my absolute favorite male. I am so weak for him y'all.

Okay, I mean. Eris is the best mate. Objectively, Subjectively, he is the best mate.

Whenever you are on your period, he takes you to the your shared cottage at the seaside so he can take care of you there without any interruptions.

His youngest hound is always guarding you. The hound might also be very spoiled too. These hounds are not supposed to sneak into your bed to cuddle with you. They are absolutely not supposed to do that. Absolutely not.

But they do. They absolutely sneak into your bed and lay their heads onto your belly and act kinda as a warming pack for you, but a lot more cuddly and cute. They may or may not get in trouble when Eris finds you in bed, fully passed out, limbs spread all over with his hound also napping peacefully with his head on your belly instead of protecting you. Eh, Eris is soft for his hounds, the young hound is probs getting a roasted piece of chicken after he sends the pup out of the room.

His warm hands rubbing all over your belly as you two chat about your day and what you did. What books you read and how you watched the storm in the distance. And he would tell you about his day for the first ten minutes of your conversation before he transitions to gushing about you. Whats knew?

His "secret" stash of chocolate suddenly belongs to you when you get your period. And these are like top tier, melt in your mouth type chocolates that are made by the best chocolatiers in Prythian. They all belong to you. And I think he would go out of his way to figure out your favorites amongst his stash so he can have some made for you personally.

He also makes the best cinnamon cider tea. It really helps alleviate some of the more extra symptoms you experience during your period and you literally feel almost entirely normal after you finish drinking it. Very soothing and also very refreshing!

God, I just love him

Lucien

omg Luc. I just know he absolutely adores every inch of you and hates when you are in any sort of pain or discomfort.

He builds a cuddle pile of the softest pillows and blankets in a balcony in Day Court that overlooks the entire city, but is hidden from prying eyes. It has a bed attached to the ceiling, that swings with the wind, and so he has you resting there so that you can get the fresh air and sunlight.

He snuggles with you all day, running his fingers through your hair and stroking your aching back. He would read you poems or sonnets from the books that he picked up from the Day Court libraries. I think he would pick the books because they are more on the romantic side, and basically he wants to woo you even though you have been mates for years.

I think he would run you a warm bath that is scented with lavender and jasmine tonic. Its properties relax any of your tightened muscles, and provide this soft buzz or tingle to your skin that leaves you feeling very refreshed. He would also absolutely wash your hair for you, massaging your scalp at the same time. He would be so gentle and careful to not get any tangles, and would take his time with a double wash if you needed one.

I like to think Lucien is the kind of mate who would literally hand feed you fruits. He seems like the kind of male who would have grapes lifted up in the air for you to bite into. He already worships the ground you walk on so I wouldn't put it past him.

Thank you so much for the ask my dear, I hope you enjoyed!!! It was such a joy to write and I hope you are having the most amazing day/night!

Check out my other works: Masterlist

[poppadom0912]

Hi! You have so many good Chicago stories! I had an idea for a Will Halstead fic, if you'd be interested... OC/Reader is a nurse at Med, she and Will are a (newish?) couple. She has been sick or hurt, but isn't telling Will, to avoid worrying him - Sharon (or someone) has been on his ass, for something he didn't do of course, but he's been under a microscope, so she doesn't want to bother or distract him - until she passes out or ends up in an OR (depending on the illness/injury) and he finds out after the fact... Heavy on the angst is always good ;)

A/N: I'm a sucker for angst. Hope this is good enough. I tried researching as accurately as possible but there might be inaccuracies.

I'm posting this is celebration of not failing my exams which means no resitting! I didn't get the high grades I wanted but we move on. Enjoy!! Hope this is good enough.

Warnings: Canon-typical injuries, blood, angst w a happy ending, surgery

*****

Becoming a nurse was inevitable for you because it was the next best thing after a doctor and you didn't want to go through all those extra years of learning and debt.

You were born with a congenital heart defect as a result of your mother poorly caring for her diabetes during pregnancy. All your life, your parents had been on top of your health, always dragging you to specialists and making sure you were still taking your meds.

You moved states several years ago and now you weren't constantly reminded of the defect you were born with.

There were times though when you did get forgetful and Will never complained about your bad trait that you couldn't handle, he shrugged it off and made sure your health was one hundred percent.

Your relationship was in the honeymoon phase, six months in you were both decently comfortable. Everyone was aware of your relationship but you both agreed to keep work at work and home at home.

Recently, Will was under extra scrutiny from Sharon because of a small incident that happened in the ED when his brother rolled up bleeding from his shoulder. No one could blame him for his reaction, it was completely justified but that hospital were being asses and wouldn't let go.

Following this, your interactions at work decreased at your suggestion to make things a little easier for him. And at first, it was working but then it just got straight up frustrating.

All of a sudden, following the intense summer heatwave, everyone's workload doubled and your hours never lined up. You'd be leaving and he'd be preparing for his second double shift of the week.

And things only got worse from there. You were so busy because of the nurse shortages that your priorities began shifting, your health dwindling down the list.

But no one needed to know that.

*****

Week One

"And that's me done, you ready to break?" Will asked, setting aside the tablet on the desk. You both took your breaks together as much as you could, any time you could get together you would take.

"Yes I am." You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you began walking out of the ED. "I remember someone promising coffee from the cart outside."

Will chuckled, rolling his eyes at the reminder of the expensive coffee sitting outside that you loved. Just as he was going to reply, Maggie shouting your name stopped him.

Sighing, your heart felt heavy both figuratively and literally. With a sheepish smile, you pecked him on the cheek with a promise to catch him later on during shift.

Not being able to get a word in, Will simply watched you scurry off to help the next incoming patient, leaving him to change directions towards the cafeteria.

*****

Week two

You should've been more attentive but being short of breath after a run wasn't uncommon. It was early morning and Will's side of the bed was empty so you took what used to be a daily run alone.

As the day progressed, you started feeling tired and your fatigue progressed. It should've been the first sign to you that you needed to slow down and take care of yourself but the next shooting in Chicago just couldn't wait.

"Y/N, are you okay?" April asked, standing besides you with a new file in hand. "You look pale."

"I'm fine." You assured her, nodding as you licked your drying lips. "And before you ask, Will doesn't know and doesn't need to be interrupted, he has a patient in the ICU."

April backed away apprehensively, always trying to check up with you whenever time permitted. Maybe she was also to blame for not being more forceful with her concerns.

It wasn't her fault that she forgot you had a heart disease.

*****

Week three

"I love you so much." You muttered against his forehead before stepping away to leave the dark bedroom.

Will stirred slightly at the contact, shifting under the covers and further messing up his curls you so badly wanted to delve your fingers into but you were on a time crunch.

Just as you were leaving the room, your chest clenched, pain suddenly overtaking you. Clutching onto the door frame, your grip slacked and your bag dropped causing Will to wake up.

"What's wrong?" Will asked in his half awake state, completely disheveled. He was blinking the sleep away while he turned to you and tried to see what was wrong but failed due to severe sleep deprivation.

"Are you okay? What happened?" He continued, voice hoarse like it usually was after a deep sleep

For some reason, you struggled to form words, your chest feeling as though it was being stabbed repeatedly.

And for some reason, you couldn't come up with a logical excuse and you stupidly left without a word to your lover.

*****

Week four

You couldn't ignore it anymore.

It felt like your body was starting to give up on you. You were constantly tired and out of breath and the chest pains never let up, at times, they even doubled and felt worse than the worst of your period cramps.

The biggest flashing red warning sign should've been when you fainted in the bathroom after your shower.

You came home shattered from your 24 hour shift. Just as you walked in the door, Will was leaving for his 48 hour shift. At this point, you really felt like the world was against you.

You were kinda like roommates more than romantic partners. You were barely at home together and at work, you tried to keep interactions to a minimum after the small incident that the board was elevating ridiculously.

Waking up on the bathroom rug, your body felt numb almost paralysed. It was like what movies described comas to be but your chest was still pulsating in pain.

You weren't being a really good nurse because you simply got up, drank some water and ate some food before sleeping it off.

*****

Week five

The silence was suffocating.

The two of you finally got more than two minutes together but words somehow failed you.

With droopy eyes and furrowed brows, your hands itched to grab the blue scrubs covering your chest. If it wasn't for your boyfriend sitting opposite you, you would've been hunched over the sinks in the women's room.

"What's wrong?" It was a question but with that tone, it felt more like a demand. His two words hit you hard, your eyes dragging from the table up to his big brown eyes filled with nothing but eternal love and concern. "And don't say nothing cause that's clearly bullshit."

And for some reason, you flinched.

Licking your chapped lips, you scrunched your eyes closed at the pain encasing your heart. Despite being back on your medication, the pain didn't cease.

"Y/N? Baby-"

"CODE SILVER. CODE SILVER IN THE ED."

*****

Today

For the past week, Will was hypervigilant about his work. Peter kalmik was never his biggest fan so it didn't help he was constantly making his presence known along with the more power holding board members.

You hated how he no longer fought his case and he just conformed, keeping his head buried in the sand and distanced himself from those he cared about.

It got to such a point that when Jay came in with only work intentions, Will physically forced himself to stay well away.

You were so caught up in your concern for him that you neglected your medication on the kitchen counter.

The pain today all of a sudden increased tenfold in the middle of shift. You were helping Doris turn over a treatment room, listening as she talked about her family drama that you loved to hear about when you felt the world come to an abrupt stop.

Before you knew it, breath escaped you and darkness enveloped you.

“Y/N?!” Doris shouted, going around the bed and crouching down besides your unconscious body.

As she started checking your pulse and your breathing, Connor ran in with Maggie in tow having witnessed you fall from the nurses desk.

In a flurry of rushed movements, you were placed on a bed as your friends searched for the cause of your unconscious state. Out of the blue, Maggie spoke up, reminding everyone of your heart condition.

Equipped with the new but old information, the cardiothoracic surgeon was now more than confident he was able to help you.

"Whose her emergency contact? Is it still her parents or has it been changed to Will?" Connor asked the charge nurse as they started wheeling the gurney towards the elevators. They needed to get you into surgery as soon as possible before you deteriorated.

"Good question."

"Page him anyways."

"Already on it."

*****

"I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"No you're not."

"All the signs were there and I missed them."

"We did too."

"I know Connor is one of the best but what if-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Maggie cut him off, looking at him sternly, eerily resembling the face of a mother telling off her child. "This is no ones fault and you know that, stop punishing yourself for something no one could control."

Will opened his mouth to interject but stopped himself when Maggie held her hand up. "Yes, maybe Y/N should've taken better care of herself but as a doctor, you know that this surgery was inevitable anyways."

"It's better that she was already in the hospital and not home alone where no one would've noticed till you finished in another eight hours." Maggie continued, being more gentle as she got her point across. She was just as concerned but for everyone else's sake, she could be their pillar.

"Look at her Will." Maggie said, gently rubbing him on the back, hopefully bringing him some comfort. "She's in the best hands."

And of course Will knew that, he wouldn't say it to Connor's face but the man was a heck of a surgeon. There was no one else he would want operating on you but he was simply unnerved to no end.

He couldn't wipe off this icky feeling he had. It lurked around him like a shadow and stuck to him like a stain. He felt like a failure - he was unable to help you as both a doctor and a boyfriend - what good was he?

News spread of your collapse around the hospital and as an automatic response, the hospital board stepped metres away from Will, almost like he was sick with a deathly contagious disease.

It was so stupid that it was funny.

Will wanted to rip his hair out. How he was even standing watching your surgery was beyond him right now. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of your chest cracked open, your heart just there for the world to see.

He never felt so useless before.

*****

Waking up was one of the most confusing scenarios you've ever been in. The last thing you remembered was being in the ED with Doris before blinking and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in recovery.

Your body felt like the heaviest gym weights were sat on you. Your mouth unbelievably dry as your eyes squinted in the dim lighting, trying to look around the room for any sign of life.

And right by your bedside, sleeping in a very awkward position was the man you considered the love of your life.

It must've been the movement of your head, you literally turning your head less than 90 degrees that woke him up because without any further prompting, Will was no longer dead to the world.

Instantly, he was alive and alert, no trace of sleep anywhere on his face as he made eye contact with you.

He felt as light as a feather to see you awake, the biggest weight being lifted off his chest from the relief that nothing went wrong despite knowing Connor made no mistake at all.

"Pulmonary valve stenosis." Was the first thing Will said, easily recognising the confusion painting your face. "Connor put in a balloon. They'll keep you for probably a week to monitor you to see if you need a valvotomy."

You hummed, letting him know that you understood everything he told you without talking. Somehow, without even looking at him, he knew and brought forth a cup with a straw in, holding it to your mouth allowing you to sip easily.

"I'm so sorry Y/N." Will said earnestly, his eyes shimmering as he intertwined your fingers with his. "I wasn't paying enough attention to you otherwise-"

"Stop." You interrupted him, voice still slightly hoarse from not using it. "Blaming yourself helps no one."

"What's done is done." You continued, squeezing his hands when he squeezed yours first. "I'm really the one to blame. If I took care of myself and did something when I first was having problems then we wouldn't be here."

Silence followed, the only sound being the constant beeping from all the machines attached to you.

"Never faint on me again, you hear me?"

"Can't promise you that babes."

"Yes you can."

"You're hilarious Will."

"No, I'm being serious Y/N."

"Don't make me laugh, where's Connor Rhodes, my favourite doctor?"

"Very funny, I think I'll buy April expensive cart coffee next time."

[scifimedic]

Hi! I just found your blog and noticed you have some posts where you explain how to write certain medical conditions, and I was wondering - could you perhaps do a post on blood poisoning, please? I am struggling with it a little lol.

I have a character that got stabbed, and I don't know what are the odds they could get blood poisoning and if yes, how fast and generally how it progresses.

If you don’t have time or something, don't sweat it, it's just a silly idea I got lol :D

Episode 4 of SciFiMedic Explains: How do I write sepsis?

Hi Anon!

So, your character got themselves stabbed, huh? Before we get to the nuts and bolts of how this is going to progress, we have to clear up a little choice of words here. 

The term blood poisoning is not the medically correct term for an infection inside the blood- we call it sepsis. Unless you meant literal poison from the weapon (which I can do a follow-up post on, if that’s the case) I’m going to guess that we’re talking about a severe, system-wide infection of the blood. 

Let’s walk through a few options: 

Scenario 1: 

Your character is stabbed in an area with lots of big blood vessels (highlighted red in diagram), and while everyone does all they can, the poor guy quickly dies of blood loss. There’s no time for infection to set in. 

Scenario 2: 

Your character is stabbed in a non-lethal area, like the arms, legs, or shallowly on the gut (highlighted green in diagram) They’re able to bandage themselves up, or maybe someone helps them out and they manage to get the bleeding stopped. 

Unfortunately, 12 hours later, they notice red streaking coming from around the wound. They also: 

Feel freezing cold, but have a high temperature

Are dizzy

Are shivering

Can’t quite catch their breath and feel the need to pant

Throw up

Look pale

These are all signs of the injury going septic, which is when the infection spreads away from the site of the wound and into the bloodstream. It happens fast. From the onset of these symptoms, they can be dead within only 12 hours. 

Here’s what needs to happen for them to survive: 

1: Hospital. No buts, no delay. If you want them to survive, they need advanced medical treatment, detailed below. (I will allow for a field hospital, or a makeshift hospital with a trained professional and plenty of supplies.) 

2: Blood and wound cultures. This means taking a small tube of blood from the arm, rubbing a cotton swab in the wound, and then sending both samples to the lab for study. They will smear the sample on a slide, put it in a warm, wet environment, and wait for it to grow out. Then, they’ll pop it under a microscope and run chemical tests on it to find out what the infection is. This process can take up to 4 days. The good news? The more pathogens that’s in the sample, the faster it will grow out. If you have blood that is severely infected, it could take as little as 12 hours to see results. (I know this from personal experience.) 

If you’re in a field hospital, unfortunately this is a luxury you don’t have. See next step. 

3: IV antibiotics immediately. Since you don’t know the bacteria causing the sepsis, you don’t know which antibiotic to give. Good news, people a lot smarter than I have created a plan for this. 

3a: According to this study done by the National Library of Medicine, 67.9% of people presenting outside a hospital setting had their wounds infected with either Staphylococcus aureus or Pseudomonas aeruginosa.  3b. Thankfully, we have two very strong antibiotics- Vancomycin and Ciprofloxacin- that can each treat these pathogens. Unfortunately, each antibiotic is effective against only one of these pathogens, and nearly useless (or has developed resistance) against the other one!  3c. Good news, these antibiotics can be safely run together. Boom, you’ve just slammed (and it’s a slam- these drugs are horrible for you long term) 67.9% of patients with the right antibiotics to start treating their sepsis.  3d. What about the other 32.1% you may be asking? Good news, they’re not doomed. Just because a given antibiotic isn’t the best choice against a certain pathogen, it doesn't mean it will be completely ineffective. You may be buying them more time for the cultures to come back. You can also take your next best guess, and switch the antibiotics after a few hours if they aren’t having any effect. 

4. Fluids. IV time! The biggest tell that someone has sepsis is that their blood pressure plummets to dangerous levels (which is what will eventually kill them, but we’ll get to that.) In order to prevent that drop, we need to raise the blood pressure by adding more volume to the blood through fluids. They might also need a blood transfusion, depending on how much blood they lost from the initial stab wound. 

It’s important to note that it may not be possible to gain IV access, because when the blood pressure is that low, the veins tend to shrivel up and disappear (not literally.) In that case, your next best option is an IO, which is a needle drilled into the center of the upper arm bone, or lower leg bone. Yes, it hurts. 

5. Vasopressors. Fancy name for medications that force the blood pressure to come up. There are four main pressors: 

Norepinephrine

Epinephrine

Phenylephrine

Vasopressin

They should be added in that order, although this article admits there isn’t too much hard evidence to back this up.

It’s important to note that this is ICU level care, and unless we’re in the middle of the woods, we will have transferred there.

How do you know if it’s time to add another pressor? You’re not getting the results you need- AKA the blood pressure is continuing to stay or fall too low. In the ICU, we use a different measure of blood pressure that most people aren’t as familiar with, called a MAP score. It’s easy, I promise. 

We use this method because it’s more representative of the amount of blood actually getting to the organs- though that is debated quite a bit in various circles. In America however, that’s the way most ICUs do it. 

The ultimate goal for a sepsis case is to have a MAP above 65 mmHg. You can use this calculator to play around with the numbers and see if the blood pressure you’re thinking is within those parameters. If it’s not, time for another pressor. 

At this point, your character is passed out most of the time. They’ve got a high fever, rapid heart beat, and are covered in sweat. They might also have a seizure from the fever and general stress on their body- at the very least they’ll be shaking from the chills. Their skin will be very, very pale, and might look kinda blue or gray in places- kinda like spots. 

6. Hold your breath. No, not literally. But at this point, you’ve done all you can and you have to wait for them to either get better, or get worse. 

If they get better, they’ll slowly start to maintain their own blood pressure, the fever will come down, and they’ll be able to string a coherent sentence together again. Recovery from sepsis can take a long, long time- as many as two to four months in the hospital. It totally depends on the person and how strong they are. The fittest, luckiest patient I’ve seen recover from sepsis was with us in the ICU for three weeks, then spent another month in a step down unit doing various therapies to regain strength. 

However… if we’re looking at failure… well, then it’s time to move onto scenario 3. 

Scenario 3: 

After completing all of the above steps, they end up getting worse. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault- sepsis is fickle and kills fast. At this point, their kidneys are starting to fail from the inadequate blood pressure- you’ll need dialysis for that. They might stop breathing, or be unable to oxygenate their blood properly, then they’ll need a ventilator. At this point, they’re not stable enough to go into surgery anymore, so there’s no hope there. Eventually, the high fever will cause seizures, which will lead very quickly to brain death. As little as 12 hours after the initial dizziness and red streaks, their heart stops and they’re pronounced dead. 

Summary: 

The odds of your character developing sepsis from a non-fatal stab wound without immediate medical care are high- 90% 

If they’re rushed to a hospital, their odds are better- 50%

If they do develop sepsis inside a hospital, they’re likley to survive- only 10.55% of people die of this kind of wound infection.

If they develop sepsis outside a hospital, then it’s almost certain they will die- 99% 

Disclaimer: Although I’m in school to become a medical professional, I’m not one yet. All mistakes are mine, and I’m always open to discussion.

Anon, this was a fun prompt! If this isn’t quite what you were looking for, feel free to submit another ask with more follow up questions!

Everyone else, also feel free to send me an ask, or reblog this (or any SciFiMedicExplains Episode) with a scene you’d like me to help you write!

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter two: it’s getting late | read chapter one

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: would be lying if i said this was for tim's birthday tmrw. it was rlly just because the reception to chapter 1 was so lovely and i also did this with my other tim fic—posting chapter 2 early, i mean. but we'll just have to work with this. happy early birthday tim you are annoying and i want to study you under a microscope <3

You expect Red Robin’s appearance to be a one-off thing. 

It is not. 

Instead, the next day, you get Black Bat. 

It jolts you from the phone call you’re having.

“—understand the temptation to tell them to screw off but I really don’t want to get… shot…”

You trail off, watching, wide-eyed as your newest vigilante customer steps into Circle K. 

Black Bat cuts an imposing figure, her suit made up mostly of inky black material, with a few accents of gold, the Bat symbol on her chest standing out the most. Her black cape flutters behind her, moving like a shadow. She looks the most like Batman, you think, with the cowl and the pointed ears. Except the eyes of the mask are black and the bottom of her face is completely covered—stitched closed. Considerably more creepy, you think, goosebumps breaking out over your skin. Though that could be the fan you have on, fluttering your hair as it makes a slow rotation.

“Hey, did you die or something?”

“No,” you mutter, watching, your heart starting to pick up as Black Bat comes up to the counter.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not—

“Do you have Red Bull?” Her voice is low and melodic. Not befitting of her… general aura.

Wordlessly, you point to the refrigerators at the back.

“Thanks,” she says, then she turns and walks away. You can only see the top of her head and the pointed ears of her cowl. A second later, you hear the suction-y sound of the refrigerator door being opened. 

A voice calls your name from the other end of the line. 

Your best friend, Stephanie Brown, who gave you a call to see how your summer break has been treating you. 

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “Just got distracted by something outside.”

“Something outside? That’s not reassuring. At all.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Like I was saying, I’m not gonna tell them that. It’s tempting but like I said, I don’t want to get arrested or some shit.”

“The charges wouldn’t even hold. It’s a free country. I can tell a cop to fuck off if I want to. That’s my god-given right.” 

“I appreciate the spirit, but I don’t think the GCPD would agree with you.”

“Well, the GCPD can kiss my ass.”

“You and me both, Stephie. You and me both. So, how’s, uh, Metropolis?”

“Metropolis is Metropolis. Brainiac nearly took control of the city yesterday but what’s new? Mom’s having a good time, though. Even if things are way overpriced over here. I mean, seriously. Eight bucks for a cup of coffee at this place we went to today. They’re crazy.”

Steph babbles in your ear for a few more minutes. Long enough for Black Bat to reemerge from the aisle, two cans of Red Bull and a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms in hand. You wonder who the second person is. Red Robin, maybe? 

He’d been odd about the hot chocolates. Odd in general. But that’s what you get with these vigilante types. 

No matter. You quickly focus on your current situation, giving Black Bat a small, embarrassed smile and pointing at the phone crammed between your shoulder and ear, mouthing Sorry. 

You shouldn’t be doing this on the job and you should’ve told Steph you had to go but quite frankly, you need the assurance of another person with you. Even if said person can’t do anything and is across the harbor in Metropolis on a mini-vacation with her mom. 

 Black Bat shouldn’t give you trouble about it. You hope. She just scares you a little more than Red Robin. Which is silly because he’s a guy and probably more potentially dangerous but. You know. Her suit is just… too similar to Batman’s, and he’s the one who scares you the most.   

Still, Black Bat just shrugs and waves a hand. “It’s fine.”

You nod your thanks, then scan everything and bag it. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill from her utility belt and you give her the change, which she promptly puts in the tip jar. A kind gesture, really, considering the twenty is a bit of an overshoot for her total, leaving you with a nice tip. 

You guess that if anything else, at least it’s nice that these vigilantes tip. 

After dropping the receipt into the bag, she takes it and waves at you. 

Mystified, you wave back. 

Then she steps out, cape fluttering behind her.

“Anyway,” Steph says on the other end as you focus on her voice again. “It’s pretty fun but I miss home. Can’t wait to be back in the city. We’re hanging out as soon as I do, by the way. How are things with you?”

Oh, you can’t keep it in. You have to tell her. 

“I saw the Flash two days ago.”

But she misunderstands.

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “I saw that in the news. ‘Cause of Trickster, right? Bet Batman wasn’t happy about that.”

“No,” you say. “I’m saying I saw him. Here. At Circle K. He dropped in to grab a bite to eat. I know you and Tim absolutely refuse to believe me when I say he visited me and that we’re friends—which, by the way, he totally reaffirmed when I saw him—but he was here.”

“We’re jealous, that’s all,” she says. “Just don’t want you running off with the Flash thinking he’s cooler than we are. Which, to be clear, he isn’t. Not me, anyway. Tim is up for debate.”

“Well, you’re about to be a little more jealous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because since he visited, weird shit has started happening.”

“Weird shit is always happening in Gotham. What is so special about this weird shit in particular?”

“Oh, he said something stupid to Red Robin—Red Robin came in a little while after he did, I guess they were working together to track down Trickster—anyway, he was talking about how I’m… scared of the Bats—”

“Are you scared of the Bats?”

You throw up a hand, though she can’t see it. “I have a healthy amount of fear and respect for them—and on that note, please don’t tell anyone else I’m telling you this.”

“Of course.”

“Right, well, Flash was just ragging him, you know? About how he has a better relationship with me, someone who doesn’t even live in Keystone or Central, than the Bats do.”

“So?”

“So,” you blow out a big breath, “Red Robin showed up yesterday to get some hot chocolate—”

“Hot chocolate?” Steph asks, disbelieving. 

“Yeah. He said it was a better alternative to coffee. Guess he’s not into energy drinks. Weirdo. The whole thing about it—weird. Like… I don’t know. He was just acting weird when he was asking if we had any.”

“… That is weird,” she says, an odd note to her voice. She clears her throat. “And then?”

“I knew why he was doing it so I told him he didn’t have to come around ‘cause he and the others obviously need to uphold a specific perception, right? Then he was all, Well, what does a civilian like you know about it? Can you believe they unironically call us that?”

Steph laughs. She laughs hard.

You wait it out, not entirely sure what or why she is laughing so hard but it’s not the first time she’s ever done that, so you can just let it go. 

“Okay,” she giggles. “Sorry. Keep going. What else happened?”

“He left. But then, y’wanna guess who just showed up right now?”

“Who? Batman?”

“God, no. It was Black Bat. She was nice enough. Gave me a big tip. Creepy suit, though.”

“What’d she’d get?”

“Two Red Bulls, a bag of Takis and a pack of sour gummy worms. Wonder who that second Red Bull is for. And the snacks. Red Robin realizing hot chocolate in June is weird? Hard to imagine him eating Takis, though. He’s probably like Tim, saying they’re ‘too hot’.”

Steph laughs again for a while.

“Oh, god, you’re killing me,” she gasps out when she calms.

You shake your head, rubbing your finger over a scratch mark in the counter. “I don’t know what is so funny but sure.”

“So, then, what? You think you’re just gonna some more vigilantes? ‘Cause it’s only been two so far.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you grumble. “But it’s two. When previously, this has never happened.” 

“True! Well… any preferences? For who comes next?”

“Anyone but Batman, thanks.”

Your next visitor is not Batman.

It is, in a turn of events that makes a little more sense, the Signal.

A few days after your call with Steph, things are fine, until your manager posts to the team group chat about wanting someone for an afternoon shift, saying someone quit unexpectedly. Not one to say no to some extra cash, you latch onto the opportunity—even if it’s an admittedly questionable idea. You try not to work weekends to let yourself recuperate from sustaining your not-so-great sleep schedule. 

Anyway, you feel and look like a zombie, but you get your work done. 

“I can help the next person in line,” you call. 

A tall, broad-shouldered stocky older man with long blonde hair and blue eyes behind coke-bottle glasses steps up, armed with two large cups of coffee. The scrubs he wears clues you into some kind of healthcare position. 

“Hi, did you find everything—”

The door opens, your eyes automatically flickering to the movement, and your voice cuts out sharply as you realize who it is.

The Signal stands there a bit awkwardly for a moment as all of you look—the blonde man at the counter and the other man waiting in line.

“Hey, you!”

You flinch, tensing, already fearing a confrontation as the other man steps forward, pointing at the Signal. The one in question tenses, shoulders rising, like he’s preparing to fight. You hope not. That would be a lot of paperwork for you. It’s the manager’s, technically, to report any damage done by vigilantes, but they always give it to you or the other employees on the floor.

But it is not as you feared. Instead of picking a fight, the man… thanks him?

“You’re the Signal, right? Right? You saved my son a few months ago from some muggers following him home from school. Thank you, man. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. He wouldn’t be here with me if it weren’t for you,” the man says, holding out a hand.

“Hey, man,” Signal says, reaching out to shake his hand. “It was nothing. I’m glad I was there to help.”

“Are you here to buy something? Let me cover you. Please. It’s the least I can do—”

“Oh, you really don’t need to—”

“That went better than expected.”

The soft-spoken voice brings you out of your thoughts and you belatedly realize you still have a customer to take care of. But when you look at him, he is watching the Signal try to tell the other man that he doesn’t have to pay for him, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you say. “Good thing. Signal’s a good guy.”

He turns back to you as you scan the cups of coffee, pulling out a wallet.

“He is,” he agrees easily—meaning his words, too, a genuine conviction you don’t hear often associated with the vigilantes of the city. 

Signal manages to hold firm on not needing the man to pay, repeating that he was just doing his job, and thankfully, the man accepts it with good graces. 

You quickly get your current customer wrapped up while the Signal steps into the chip aisle. 

You pass him the receipt. “Thank you, have a good day.”

He sends you a small, handsome smile, picking up the cups of coffee. “Thank you, you, too.”

The one after him steps up to pay, talking jovially with you, spirits still apparently lifted at seeing Signal and being able to thank him. It’s a nice moment, you think, and you make sure to respond in kind. 

The door swings shut behind him just as Signal re-emerges from the chip aisle, holding a can of Monster Energy and a bag of chile picante Cornnuts. The combination is… surely something. You let yourself slip with it, too, because you’ve personally heard a lot of good things about him. The fact that he works during the day helps his case, too. 

“I need the energy,” Signal says, seeing that thought in your face; he doesn’t sound mad, though, just vaguely amused. His suit is filled with more yellow tones, still intimidating but not as much in the daylight, a helmet of sorts leaving only his mouth exposed. 

“It’ll definitely give you… something,” you say, chuckling as you scan both.

He pats his stomach. “I have guts of steel. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not a problem as long as I never have to hear ‘guts of steel’ ever again. Jesus. Is that just a natural thing of your biology or is it evolutionary-based?”

“This life isn’t for the faint of heart or stomach,” he agrees, passing you a five dollar bill. “Adaptation is key.”

“I bet.”

Signal laughs, taking his change and dropping it into the tip jar. You smile, too, shaking your head slightly. 

“Have a good day.”

He tips his Red Bull at you. “You, too.”

Guts of steel. You nearly can’t believe it.

You pick up your phone, finding your conversation with Tim. You and Steph are hanging out tomorrow, so you’ll tell her about it, then. She asked him, though, and he said he was busy. Too bad. But that doesn’t mean he gets out of being subjected to those words, either.

no joke signal came in to buy a monster energy and cornnuts (a questionable combo) and when he saw me judging he said he has guts of steel

meta related do you think???

makes sense to me. you have a gene inside you that gives you literal powers i think they shouldn’t be having digestive issues/ibs like us common folk do

Your three texts, sent in quick succession, deliver. You bite the inside of your cheek as you see your previous ones still unanswered. It’s been like that for the past few weeks. Not him ignoring you but a bit of a dry spell going on in your messages that was only broken when you told Steph what happened and decided you had to tell him, too.

It’s not his fault. The dry spell from before or the lack of responses going on now. 

You started the first thing. So, it’s more your fault than anything for all of that. Steph’s talked to him, though, and she’s never let up on anything amiss…

You groan quietly, dropping your phone on the counter and burying your face in your hands.

Too complicated. Too much. 

It never used to be like that but… things changed recently. 

You, mostly. 

You met Stephanie Brown your second semester at Gotham University. 

Taking your required elective, you chose Intro to Psych. She was doing the same. Though, being a social work major, psychology was practically a cousin to it. 

The professor for the class turned out to be a total dud. Rambled during lecture, refused to give out study guides, and while he would give out hints as to what material might show up on exams, his questions were trick ones. When people complained, he said some crap about being in a higher ed setting and needing to do better because of it. Like his class was some 300 or 400 level course and not a literal intro course to a large and burgeoning field of study. 

But classes are expensive, so, you couldn’t drop it. Refused to, really, knowing you would face much more difficult classes later on, ones you knew you might need to drop and try again. So, you weren’t going to waste the money on this type of class.

Steph was of the same thought.

She sat next to you in the lecture hall. You two didn’t talk until after the first exam and everyone was upset about their grades, the exams having been handed back at the end of class. Your shared frustration brought you together, mostly as you two were ranting about it, you packed up and wound up leaving class together, the both of you just too caught up in your anger to realize you both needed to go in opposite directions for your next class. 

You initially agreed to be study partners, to cover more ground that way. But Steph managed to worm her way to your heart by the end of that semester. 

Your astounding lack of friends helped, too. Even if things had been that way since your junior year of high school, even if you wanted things to remain that way to protect what little remained of your heart, the loneliness hit you harder than you thought it would when you started college. 

And Steph was nice and funny and listened to you and paid attention to you and you… were so very deprived of those things, so it was nice in the beginning, but then you realized, to your own horror, that you actually wanted her to stick her around, that just as she knew nearly everything about you by the end of the semester, you knew nearly everything about her, too, and you wanted to know more, wanted to be there for her like she always was for you. 

You have that and more now and you are so very lucky because of it.

Tim, though?

Tim was something else.

Steph told you she had a friend visiting.

Just that—that she had a friend visiting campus and she ‘hoped he could find his way to the computer workstation on the fourth floor because as soon as I sit down, I’m not leaving for anything other than to use the bathroom or some kind of world-ending event.’ 

It was a particularly grueling paper she had to churn out—twenty pages, heavily research-based with the kind of statistics that made your head spin.

Working at the front desk of the Martha Kane Library at the time, you humored her. Told her good luck and that you’d keep an eye out. The second part was a joke, of course, because she never said who was visiting her and how could you know if she never said anything?

You and Tim Drake wound up finding each other, anyway. 

Well, more like he found you. 

It sounds sort of romantic, right?

It’s… well, it’s certainly something.

“I’m just saying,” you’re telling him, totally neglecting your homework and the other duties you have at the front desk (you know this last part is especially true by the way your coworker, also at the front desk, is side-eyeing you but come on, there’s no one in line, so it’s fine!). “It’s a solid movie.”

Tim Drake gives you a comically disbelieving look. “A solid movie? It’s—it’s gaseous.”

“Did… you just make a physics joke? About the three states of matter?”

Tim turns an attractive shade of pink. “It’s four, actually, and, uh… yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Steph is right. You really are a geek. Anyway. Cloverfield still sucks.” 

“Your opinion is automatically negated by the fact that you think the Final Destination movies have any kind of substance to them.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I just think they’re good ‘cause of Mary Elizabeth Winstead. You probably think the Transformers movies are actually good, don’t you?”

He looks offended. “Don’t insult me. We hate Michael Bay in this house.”

“Sure.”

“But I do think Bumblebee—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Bumblebee is good for a change, we all know it. You’re probably one of those Nolan stans, aren’t you?”

“I don’t think any of what you just said are real words.”

“Oh, they’re real alright. Nolan stans are constantly on his dick, they’re all like, ‘Nolan is so deep and thoughtful and there is no one else like him.’ Wrong. I could find ten of him in the movie industry.” 

Tim narrows his eyes accusingly at you. “Steph said Interstellar is your favorite movie.”

“It’s his only good movie.”

“Don’t count out Inception like that.”

“Never seen it.”

“Wow.”

“You know what you sounded like just now? A Nolan stan.”

Tim actually grins at you and your stomach flutters at the sight of it. It’s that that had drawn your eyes to him. The cute but confused looking guy loitering around nearby, systematically checking his phone and glancing around—presumably for a map of the confusing and ancient library. With dark hair, pale skin, and pretty blue eyes that make you feel unbearably seen, Tim Drake is a sight for sore eyes. Your eyes, to be certain. 

Of course, you also know he’s here for Steph. That he is the friend she spoke of. And also the ex-boyfriend. That reminder sobers you considerably. 

Kind of funny, really. 

Much can be said about Tim Drake. 

The adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. The kid who snuck into No Man’s Land on a dare and had to be extracted by the US military after his father made a fuss about it. Then later, became controlling shareholder at Wayne Enterprises for whatever reason, boosting him into a very powerful position. Then he got engaged. Then he was shot—he was meant to be killed but obviously, it hadn’t gone that way. All this at seventeen. 

But eventually it petered out. He stepped down. Engagement broke off. He recovered. Now? He does some work for WE. That’s all that’s known to the press, anyway. 

It’s like you said. Much can be said about Tim Drake. 

But most of your impression is from Steph. He plays Warlocks and Warriors sometimes. Is a bit of a computer geek and has built his own PC for gaming. Hits the skatepark every now and then. Likes to spend time tinkering on his car.  And… has strong opinions on movies. 

Above it all?

He is her ex. A good friend now! But still. That fact remains. 

“Anyway,” you say, adjusting your notebook, textbook, and bag of pens just to do something. “You’re here for Steph, right?”

“She told you?”

“Well, she’s obviously told you stuff about me.”

“Steph won’t shut up about you,” he says, seeming more amused than annoyed by that fact. “I can’t imagine it’s the same with me.”

“I know enough.” Like the fact that he is her literal ex-boyfriend. Even if Steph says their relationship wasn’t the greatest, had some very questionable decisions on both their parts, and ended a bit dramatically… he’s still the first person she ever fell in love with. She told you that much. “She’s upstairs on the fourth floor. Hit the elevators over there, then when you get to the fourth floor, turn left, then another left, and the computer workstations are on your right. Can’t miss them.”

“You should watch Inception,” he says, instead of acknowledging literally anything you just said.

You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “You should watch Interstellar.”

He taps a finger on the counter. “We should do both. You, me, and Steph one of these days.”

“I hate to say it, but that sounds like a good idea.”

Steph’s voice scares the shit out of you. You bang your knee on the desk, cursing.

Tim looks unruffled as she comes from the side—the direction of the elevators, joining him at the counter and nudging his shoulder as she goes. He nudges back. They keep the contact.

“Sorry, Stephie,” you say. “We got preoccupied.”

“Arguing,” she corrects, but she doesn’t look upset about it. Instead, her cobalt blue eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite identify as she drops her chin into her palm.

“We weren’t arguing,” Tim says next. “We were lightly debating.”

“Of course. My cute little movie geeks. I think Duckboy’s right, though—” Tim groans slightly and mutters her name in annoyance; she ignores it “—we should get together and see them.”

You scratch your cheek. “I don’t know. Finals—”

“—are not for another month. I say let’s do it.” She looks at Tim and jabs a thumb at you. “She needs more friends.”

“Stephanie, please.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Timothy needs more friends, too. Friends from, say, the other half.” She smiles mischievously, a joke known only by the two of them. 

Tim, for his part, rolls his eyes but says nothing in protest. 

You don’t need more friends. More friends is actually a very bad idea. Letting one person get close was bad enough. Another person? Hell, no…

But the look on Steph’s face tells you that you, quite frankly, have no say in the matter. And the way you and Tim ‘lightly debated’ movies for a solid half hour tells you, too, that it’ll be too easy for you and he to become friends. 

You decide to shelve the issue for now as Steph tugs him away, promising you that she’ll arrange for things.

Maybe it won’t pan out. Maybe he’s actually horribly arrogant and conceited. (Though, if he’s friends with Steph, the likelihood of that is admittedly low.) 

You don’t know. All you know is it’s dangerous to let yourself get close to someone else.

But that’s all rather dramatic, isn’t it?

And it didn’t turn out how you wanted—you met Tim in the first semester of your sophomore year; your junior year just ended this May. You’ve been friends with him for a year and half. Steph for two. No end appears to be in sight. But you’ve compartmentalized. It’s just two people. That’s fine.

It’s totally fine. 

Even if it’s two people to match the two others you lost when you were fifteen. Like a repayment for the pain.

(Or a way to double it.)

But you lost your parents in the earthquake. 

Scientists called that a once-in-a-lifetime event.

There are plenty of things going on in this city that could cost your friends their lives but… it’ll never be as devastating as the earthquake. 

The earthquake where you nearly died after a piece of metal pierced your thigh, barely missing your femoral artery, and you spent the entire time from after the earthquake, when they dug your body out of the rubble, and to when they decided to exile the city, in a coma from the infection. 

By the time you stabilized, you were on a helicopter to Blüdhaven, the rest of the city in a panic to leave, and your parents were officially gone by that point. 

They couldn’t even find their bodies in time.

It took almost three years before they did. The year in which the government turned a blind eye to the city and cast it away, then another two years to rebuild, to sift through the ruin and destruction, to find the bones of the ones left behind since they were decomposed by then, and identifying them was an even more arduous task.  

You only managed to receive the catharsis of burying them when you turned eighteen. 

You might tempt fate by saying this but even if you lost either of them, the fallout would never beat that. A blessing, in that way. 

But even you hate to consider the possibilities of them leaving you. For anything.

They won’t. 

Everything will be fine. 

It has to be. 

reblogs are appreciated!

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[hughungrybear]

Some blogs really do feel like they love sucking the joy out of the shows that most people watch. I get it - people are free to criticise shows that don't jive with whatever artistic/creative sentiments they have. But some posts by specific blogs really do feel like it was written by a pre-pubescent teenager trying hard to be edgy.

Somehow, I sort of get it. After all, negative reports do sell. It's one of the main reasons why news people rarely broadcast "good" news and if they do, it's highlighted as some type of "special" report. As if good rarely comes in real life. Psychologically speaking, bad reviews do bring the likes and re-blogs that some people seem to crave.

But these blogs fall into a pattern. They would follow which show is currently trending, post some positive reviews at the start, then when they find a following, start nitpicking every small detail and write long essays about it. Afterwards, you will find that most of their writing are just them making mountains of criticisms out of a tiny, microscopic molehill.

So, what am I trying to say here? As an avid watcher of these shows and reader of blogs, you need to be more selective which blogs you follow. It is easy to get swayed when somebody you like and respect (to a certain extent) starts hating the show you are currently enjoying. Suddenly, you start to hate the show too for no good reason other than because you read somewhere that the show is not that good.

Despite the criticisms, I always find Marie Kondo's approach to life to be the most practical — if it stops bringing you joy, DROP IT. Use the 'unfollow' button generously. You don't owe anyone anything.

Now, I'm not saying you should turn a blind eye to any criticism. But you do need to be selective and determine the valid criticisms from fallacious and unjustified ones.

[myun-saidthoughts]

Please do 7th house synastry and 6th house please

6th House Synastry:

With this synastry, some themes that persist in this house are mundane affairs, work habits, routines, physical health, self-care/medicine. This house also represents animals, taking care of others, and perhaps in the best case scenario putting someone else's needs above their own, and in worst case scenario nit-picking or nagging on one another.

I feel like this synastry would create two individuals who would work well together in their everyday life, depending on what planets are sitting here would create a more specific theme, but perhaps you put your partner needs above your own, or (you or them) could think of the small little details that would make their day easier, such as them making your coffee everyday or picking up your favorite food on the way home from work, this house to me (when it comes to partnership) would amplify doing little acts of service for one another and heightens consideration on both ends (or could be one sided depending on each own natal chart). You guys can work together or have the same interests when it comes to hobbies or activities. Now if the planet(s) involved aren't making harsh aspects to your planets (or vice versa) then this energy could manifest pleasantly. Their considerate nature brings more ease into your life, rather than causes more unnecessary setbacks. In other sense, if someone is looking for more of a fun, passionate, type of love or adventure then this house could feel a bit boring. Not everyone will appreciate considerate acts as a whole when it comes to love, so it depends on how the person will receive this kind of energy.

Another sense of this is, I feel like this could make you or your partner overly aware of one another, meaning how they act, what they say, or even to what they wear might be under a microscope, malicious intent is not on purpose but this house's energy might unlock or uncover that type of detailed energy.

Balancing one another might come easy and you're able to add them in your everyday life, they might fit in like a puzzle piece with no blockages or resistance; but again depending on their own natal chart; they might view this as a gateway to a white picket fence and not everyone searches for that type of lifestyle.

7TH House Synastry

I have dealt with 7th house synastry before, I made a post about him a few months ago but relooking at our synastry the main feelings that persevered had to be his Pluto conjuncting my Venus and squaring my Mars. That was a whirlwind in itself and because of my Scorpio Moon/12H Venus & Pluto/Moon square Neptune I clung onto that peace he gave me for dear life. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I felt from him was either the 7th house energy, or his Pluto, or from a past life, but anyway going off from what I feel like this energy would bring:

With 7th house synastry, one common theme I hear about this house is it represents open enemies/your life partner. This house is directly opposite of your ascendant, therefore the qualities this house brings will either be qualities you wish you had or wish to develop, or qualities you find perhaps even annoying or "too much" to deal with; depending on what journey you're on when it comes with accepting your 7th house needs. A part of you might admire the traits of the person who falls in your 7th house because they might obtain qualities or attributes you're still trying to decipher within or unlock, or you might find it like I said (annoying) or just out of your comfort zone.

Depending on what planet that falls in the 7th house and it's aspects would create a better story but for the most part, I believe this would need other cute synastry aspects/desire for it to manifest in the upmost positive sense of them becoming your life long partner/lover; especially if you are like me who sort of need that passion and lust when it comes to romantic partners but to each their own.

Attraction and desire to continue the relationship I think is noteworthy; this may feel more true if you personally have active 1H/2H/12H natal placements, if you share more 5H/7H/8H natal placements then the energy the 7th house brings may feel more ideal. I personally have NO 7th house placements, and I immensely struggle with emotional vulnerability and acceptance of love so for me, I would struggle more with solely 7th house synastry then the next person)

In one short fling this boys Sun, Mercury, Venus and Mars fell in my 7th house and I was repulsed, like okay I was interested at first for whatever reason because I was drunk and he was in front of me; but he ignited uncomfortable feelings the following days after because he sat SO heavy on a house I have no business or care for (as of yet).

But going back to what I feel this would cause from my astrological guess is; if there is a connection forged then this would bring you two closer. You might take on their traits that they are able to master and they might take on yours; bringing in balance for you two and ease with where you guys want your connection to go. They can become the ying to your yang; when you're overly emotional they help you stand your ground with making sound decisions and with processing your emotions. They'll be able to comfort you in the way you always wished someone would. If you're suddenly overly cold or detached they can help show and ignite compassion and empathy within you, if you're an over thinker where you worry or have unnecessary thoughts they can come in and bring in light and hope when it feels hopeless. If you're overly impulsive or chaotic/dramatic they can come in and ease the intensity you might showcase in everyday small matters, bringing in light-heartedness and bring you to understand your emotions better.

Therefore they can help you process your 7th house needs better than someone else, igniting character development or openness in some areas of life. Comfort could also be forged I believe, you might feel understood with them; making it easy to connect with them on a more deeper level, causing more closeness between the two of you.

I believe the reason this house can showcase long term potential is because once you embrace and take on the qualities of your descendant, then the connection between the two of you will manifest deeply and partnership is increased.

Again the planets in question and natal placements would always paint a better picture about how someone would react to these houses being lit up.

In other words if you or your person have heavy Libra/Virgo traits, have an active Venus/Mercury where Venus or Mercury are your chart rulers/make many aspects to your inner planets or have 7H & 6H natal placements then these synastry overlays would cause harmony rather than disruption.

[fuck-customers]

Not exactly a fuck customers but more like ‘what the fuck, why are people like this’.

I work at a small library in my little town. Small as in, there are only five people who work here total. So you can probably guess, our building is much smaller than most libraries. We do have an auditorium though, one that takes up like 30% of the building. It can be rented and is used for library programs, but when it’s not being used, the lights are turned off and the two entrances have signs that say that ‘for library use only’ or some such thing, meaning, if there’s nobody in there and the doors are closed, lights are off, it’s off limits to patrons. Makes sense, right?

So the other day, I go in for my afternoon shift as usual. It’s after the holiday so there are a lot of returns. My supervisor goes to grab an extra cart so we can divide up the returns, otherwise I’d never get it done all by myself by we closed. She has to go into the auditorium to get the extra cart, which is locked from the side with the actual library but the other door, which is right by our side exist, must have been open. Anyway, she goes in and while I’m digging through books waiting for her, I hear some sort of conversation/noise but don’t think much of it. About this time I notice a patron come and set up with his laptop at one of work tables and put on his headphones. Our other coworker is on his dinner break and again, I don’t think much of any of this.

Anyway, it gets to be around an hour/half an hour ish before we start closing duties and it’s been slow except for a few people coming and going. During this time we sometimes bullshit while we wait for the clock to run down.

My supervisor notes that the man that was sitting at the work table has finally left and then glances at the security monitor, noting the car that was parked next to mine in the employee parking area of our back lot is now gone.

Come to find out, not only was said guy here right at opening, parked halfway into the employee parking area when that’s a total of like three spots (he’s also not someone she recognized when she’s been there 5+ years), apparently this guy was just chilling in the dark fucking auditorium all day? On his laptop, working away? When we’d been open since 10:30 am and he left at like 7pm? Thats what all the noise I had heard earlier was about. She opened the door to the auditorium to get the extra cart we needed, and just causally found this fucker sitting there, doing his thing? She literally had to say to tell him he was welcome to work online just not in here cause that’s not an area open to the public? I think he apologized but still??? He wouldn’t have even been able to access the wifi without the password. But he was just sitting in there the whole goddamn day. Without anyone knowing. And then it gets dark and he doesn’t even have any of the lights on. There’s signs on both doors about this at eye level? Hun, we couldn’t locked you in and never even known it. The side door is locked 15 mins before close and the other doors can’t be opened from the inside.

I love this job, but some of these people I wanna put under a microscope and study for science.

Posted by admin Rodney.