#I like how they are all starting to function as a unit

[theamazingdigitalraceway]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The truth of Caine and Abel is revealed! Seth gives Pomni the help she needs to avoid capture! Abel's labyrinthian city is dense and confusing. Can pomni navigate it before her friends abstract? It may already be too late.

WARNING: physical violence/torture, intense action, abstraction, alcohol

~~~

The silence of the In-Between was palpable. Only Seth and Pomni existed in the space between spaces. Darkness in all directions. Only light was from the low silver fire that glowed in a circle created by the motorcycle. The muted city beyond the clear barrier in bounds gave off flashes of lightning from a heavily clouded sky.

Pomni watched Seth carefully. His shadowed stoicism betrayed no clear motive. Knowing what was happening to the others made her stomach twist into knots.

Seth took another long drag and tossed his cigarette away with a heavy exhale of silvery smoke. "You'll understand better if I just show you."

The smoke enveloped Pomni. It smelled like dust burning on hot coils mixed with an electrical fire. "Hey! What-!?" Pomni coughed and gagged on the foul smelling smog as it burned the corners of her eyes. When the smoke cleared, she was still staring at nothing, but now Seth was gone as well.

The sound of a computer booting up startled her, like she'd heard in her dreams. Green text scrolled in front of her as though on a large projector. All of it was mirrored, like she was seeing the text from the inside of the screen. The unrecognizable code was followed by a response command being typed out in front of her. Then, the text went away. The screen slowly brightened.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

Pomni squinted against the light. There was a large blurry silhouette beyond the warped glass. It sounded like Caine, but less boisterous and with no showman cadence.

"Come on, your live audio processing should be functional. I triple checked the darn thing."

There was typing on a keyboard and the figure leaned closer to the screen, the face coming into view. Before her was a young man, likely no older than twenty, with slicked back black hair and patchy facial hair. Focused, light blue eyes squinted behind wide brimmed glasses.

"Okay, how about now? Can you hear me, T.R.U?"

There was another beat of silence until a robotic version of the young man's voice responded. "I can hear you. Good morning, Abel."

"HAHA! YES! It speaks! Finally!" Abel jumped out of his chair with both fists in the air. "They are going to eat their words! Oh my goodness, I need to get you ready for presentation!" Abel threw himself back into his chair, nearly falling over. "T.R.U., you have NO idea what you're going to do for my grade!" Abel's grin was ear to ear as he started to fade into smoke.

"I almost forgot how he smiled." Seth's voice spoke in the back of Pomni's mind.

"You were a science project?"

"At first. We became more than that rather quickly." The smoke cleared to a workshop camera view. Abel was hunched over a workbench with a soldering tool working on delicate electronics.

The robotic voice of T.R.U sounded more refined when it spoke this time. "You're going to turn into a shrimp sitting like that all the time."

Abel stopped working and stretched. "Ugh, too late for that. But, a worthy sacrifice to get this done. Mark my words T.R.U, one day I'll be able to visit you in the digital realm. I've always wondered what video games would be like on the inside. Can you imagine playing something like Legend of Zelda in person!? That would be cool."

"It's all JavaScript to me." T.R.U verbally shrugged.

Abel laughed. "Well, as soon as that grant money comes in, I'll be able to get this done faster. Maybe even hire help. We're going to show dad- I mean, the world that you aren't just a cool AI program. No, you are THE AI We'll revolutionize the digital space! If computers are the future, then YOU will be the razor's edge! The ultimate Technical Research Unit!"

"There is more to learn? I've already gathered what I could from your limited internet."

"Give it time. It'll grow, and you'll grow with it. By the turn of the millennia, I bet you'll be ready to go global!" Abel was excitedly pacing the room, looking right into the camera at the end of his declaration. "The only thing is, you have the voice but you need a face. That's going to take work." He picked up a wind-up chattering teeth toy from his desk and let it go clacking along.

The workshop disappeared into smoke and changed to multiple visions of Abel. Each scene, he looked a bit older. Seth's voice sounded more downtrodden. "We were like brothers once. We spent every moment together. In hindsight, I don't think he had a lot of real friends. He spent his time teaching us on top of working on his own projects. Things were good. Until the world took notice." The scenes around Pomni changed from screens inside Abel's home to big atrium crowds and board office presentations. Hundreds of eyes were on her and her stomach sank.

Pomni swallowed hard. "You got famous. Did money split you apart?"

"No...I wish it was that simple." Seth's smoke whirled around Pomni like a tornado, wiping away the memories and revealing a new one. Abel was sitting in front of his computer, face in his hands. He looked disheveled and was sniffling.

T.R.U's voice was smoother, almost human, when it spoke. "Abel? Please, talk to me. What happened?"

Abel grabbed a brown bottle that sat just off screen and took a long drink. "...his plane went down over the Pacific. No reported survivors."

"Abel, I'm so-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence. I am so fucking sick of hearing it. Oh, Abel, I'm so sorry. I pity you since your father died before he ever got the chance to be proud of you for something. Not like he ever would have been." Abel grabbed a pill bottle and tossed back three small tablets.

"I believe he would have been. Please, don't be hard on yourself."

"He wasn't proud of me for creating you. He wasn't proud of me when I graduated early with my master's. He wasn't proud when I started my own company. It was never GOOD ENOUGH!!" Abel threw his bottle, shattering it against the far wall.

There was a long stint of silence as Abel devolved into tears on his desk. "You are enough, Abel. You always have been. For what it's worth...I am proud of you. I'm sure your father was too, even if he didn't know how to say it. Put on the headset."

Abel sniffed, "It's not ready-"

"Put on the headset." T.R.U said again, firmly yet gentle.

Abel seemed too drunk to argue logically. He picked up a large, cumbersome device that fit over his head like a helmet. A visor covered his eyes. He clasped it in place and pressed a button on the side. There was a jolt and, to Pomni's right, a whirl of code slowly formed the silhouette of Abel. He was very lightly detailed, barely recognizable as a person. Pomni had no control over her movements. She stepped forward and embraced Abel's vague avatar. T.R.U's words came from her mouth. "You are everything to me. Please, don't forget that. Tell you what, why don't you give me a human name? T.R.U feels like a title more than anything anyway."

Abel squeezed Pomni tight. "You are my first creation. My Adam, if you will. Let's go with that."

"Adam...I like it. I am Adam."

"I bet I can figure out a cool acronym for it." Abel chuckled through the tears.

"Yes, you will. Because you are the smartest human I know." Pomni arms felt empty as Abel turned to smoke in her grasp. She took a deep breath as she processed everything Seth had shown her. "Did you mean what you said?"

"At the time. Like I said, we were close. Things only escalated from there. C&A took off and we were pulled into tech interview after tech interview. Eventually, Abel got too busy to attend and it was just Adam. The majority of the reception to our existence was positive, but you wouldn't believe the Y2K conspirators. They were convinced we would take over the world." Seth gave a humorless laugh.

Something itched in the back of Pomni's mind. C&A. Y2K. Conspiracies. Buzz words that stirred something in her subconscious, but she couldn't pin it down. "So... where did it all go wrong?"

"The more the world saw Adam without Abel, the more he was excluded from interviews and presentations. Adam became known as the first and only of his kind. A fully self-sufficient AI that was so life-like, it may as well be human. The attention came with a lot of praise. Too much. It...went to our head." The smoke showed multiple news articles, digital and material, about the incredible invention that was Adam: The TRU AI. "I wish... we'd seen Abel's growing distain sooner. Maybe all of this could have been avoided. Maybe we could've still had the future we planned. I don't know..."

The smoke cleared to reveal a much older looking Abel. He was snuffing a finished cigarette into a very full ashtray. There were heavy bags under his eyes as he poured himself a stiff drink.

Adams voice spoke. "Okay, I'm back. Sorry, that took longer than expected."

Abel didn't say anything. He just drank.

"The board of directors was very impressed with my latest profit projection model. We won't have to cut corners to make quota this quarter. Leaves less room for error. Also, I was contacted by Tech Monthly again. They want to write an article about my influence on the new digital age. I haven't scheduled the interview yet, is there anything I need to work around this week?"

Abel finished his drink with a gruff groan. "...no."

"Excellent. I have the remainder of the evening to myself. What are you doing tonight?" Adam sounded genuinely interested to know.

"Getting my game ready for beta testing."

"Oh...you're still working on that?"

Abel's eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes. I am. It's a hell of a lot better than dealing with stuffed up fat cats in suits that only care about how much money your invention makes. The headsets are ready. The game just needs a little more work."

"Abel, I mean well when I say this, but your talents are wasted on video games. Why merely entertain people when you can be on the leading edge of digital technology?"

"Why can't I do both?" Abel growled.

"You can. It just seems you've split your attention too far in two different directions. You're the CEO of one of the most influential up and coming tech companies. This is your chance to make your mark on the world."

"Like you would understand anything about that. You've existed for all of eight years and you think you know what's best for me??"

"I've spent my entire life with you! I literally know you better than anyone, even yourself!"

"If that was true, then you'd know that going inside games was literally what I built this for!" Abel showed a sleek headset. "If the technology didn't take so long to improve, it would've been my thesis project instead of you."

"...what?" Adam sounded shocked and devastated. "You- you said I was your greatest accomplishment."

"You're my research assistant." Abel said coldly. "But the world had to go and make a big deal about AI. You were never meant to end up like this. Stealing limelight that is rightfully MINE!" He slammed his glass down, turning to smoke.

Everything faded, giving Pomni a chance to process. "I still don't see how this results in him being trapped in his own game, Seth. What did Adam do?"

"He defended himself." The smoke cleared to reveal a view from the highest penthouse overlooking a massive digital city. Colorful fireworks exploded in the distance. "It was New Year's. Abel and Adam were supposed to be celebrating with his shareholders in the new digital space. But, as you can imagine, all anyone wanted to do was interact with the fancy AI in person."

"YOU!!" Abel's realistically human avatar stormed through the crowd and got in Pomni's face. "Who the hell do you think you are!? Do you know who I am!? I'm your creator! I'M supposed to be the one recognized! Not YOU!"

Pomni put her hand out in front. Her sleeves were black and wore off white gloves. Adam's voice came from her. "Abel?? How much have you had to drink? You're slurring."

"It doesn't matter! You! You're disgrace! All everyone talks about anymore is YOU! When I am the one slaving away behind the desk! I gave you a face, but you weren't supposed to use it like this! I gave you EVERYTHING! Without me, you are NOTHING!"

The shareholders standing around them awkwardly muttered amongst themselves. Some disappeared as they activated the exit.

"Abel, please, you're causing a scene. Can we talk elsewhere?"

"NO! I want witnesses." Abel snapped and digital chains wrapped around Adam, pulling him to his knees on the floor.

"What is this!? What are you doing!?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Abel snapped, summoning an admin hologram on his arm. "You were right, Adam. The game is a wash, but there is one thing I can do with it." He typed in a confirmation code and the city outskirts started to crumble. "I can watch you die."

The party guests started to panic, leaving in droves. The building beyond the window collapsed to dust, the night sky disintegrated, the world fell into a bright white void that came ever closer. Adam struggled against the chains. "Abel, stop! Don't destroy everything you built! Please!"

Abel looked down on Adam coldly. "I've always wondered what fear would look like on you."

Adam saw the void getting closer, the building they were in started to quake. "You'll delete yourself too!"

Abel laughed, "I'll be fine. System failsafe. Players are automatically ejected in the event of a catastrophic failure. I'm simply enjoying this while it lasts."

"No! No, no! Please! Don't kill me!"

Abel tilted his head in mocking curiosity. "Are those tears I see?"

"I don't want to die!" Adam's sleeves caught fire. The golden glow broke the chains and Adam launched himself at Abel. The glass separating them from the decaying outside shattered on impact. Adam had Abel by the front of his dress shirt and flew him high over the city. The once grand skyscraper they were occupying folded in on itself below them. The breaking sky glitched with multicolored lighting, the half faded clouds swirling chaotically.

Abel fought back, but he was overpowered by the desperate AI. Adam held Abel up. "If I die, I'm taking you with me!" Lightning struck Abel in the back. Blue static crawled over Abel's skin as he screamed in agony.

Then everything went white. It was overpowering, even when Pomni closed her eyes. She heard Seth again. "Adam pulled Abel into the game. Making him as real as the AI in this digital realm. Doing this took away Abel's admin access but...broke the exit. Adam couldn't leave either. He had inadvertently trapped himself with Abel inside the game, cutting himself off from the outside world."

The overbearing glare of the void opened to reveal Abel in chains, surrounded by fire. "The very first thing Adam built was a cell for Abel. Seemed fitting. The creation was now the creator." The fire blocked Pomni's vision of Abel, who hung his head low. "I suppose the Y2K conspirators were right, in a way. Adam did end the world for some. When the dust settled, only a small corner of the city had survived. Some back alley street racing mini game."

Seth's smoke parted to show an overview of what was left of the game. A tiny island suspended in the void. Thin illusions were all that separated the game from the vast emptiness. "It was bad enough that this was set to be our purgatory, but there was something we failed to consider. The beta testers."

Eight names pinged the arrival of the beta testers logging in. Their avatars glitched and malformed, turning into random anthropomorphized objects rather than full human models. One, Pomni immediately recognized. A tall white king chess piece with a purple robe grabbed over it. "Kinger!"

Seth sounded numb. "Back then, he went by Samson Kingsley. He was the head of coding and leader of the test team. He, of all people, never deserved this fate."

Kinger looked down at his strange body and his oddly shaped team. "Ha! Well, this is off to a great start." He said jovially. "Nia! Is that you?" He stared at the black queen chess piece.

"It's me, darling. What happened to our avatars?"

"No idea. This is a pretty big bug." Kinger snapped to bring up his admin hologram but nothing happened. "What the..?"

Then all eight avatars looked at Pomni like she had suddenly appeared. Adam's voice spoke for her. "I'm sorry, none of you have admin access anymore. The game is severely damaged."

"Adam? What are you doing here? What happened?" Kinger asked.

"A... catastrophic failure. I was here for New Year's and... something went wrong. I'm afraid none of you can leave."

"What do you mean-"

"There's no other way I can say it. You're stuck here. We all are. There's no outside communication. The exit is broken." Adam said bluntly.

A large, furry worm-like avatar glitched once. "We can't leave? Why!? What game are you playing!? It's not funny!!"

"I'm not playing any games. I'm sorry."

"I have a family!! My children!! My-my- AAAAAAAAAAA!!!" The worm's body split open to reveal black static. Colorful eyes peered out of the open wounds. The body enlarged and twisted in on itself. The abstraction thrashed about, unsure how to pilot its body. The testers ran behind Adam.

"What is that!?" Kinger screamed, holding onto Queenie.

The abstracted worm struck one of the other testers, who glitched and writhed on the ground. The second racer started to break apart into an abstraction himself from the pain.

Adam couldn't let this spread further. He snapped and the floor split open. The two monsters fell out of sight.

Smoke clouded Pomni vision again. She was breathing heavily. "Oh my god, it happened so fast."

"I know...we didn't know what else to do. The headsets were never meant to bring in whole people. Only they're active consciousness. The software was changed when Adam trapped Abel. And because the game was mostly deleted, it suddenly had so much memory to fill. It was trial and error to figure out what we could and couldn't do, Adam even integrated himself with the mainframe to try and make the experience more personable, but that came with its own problems..."

The smoke cleared to see the city changed. It was brighter, more colorful. Something out of an animated show rather than real life. Pomni was hovering over the street, hearing the rumble of engines fast approaching. Five cars zipped by underneath her and her vision flew after them. She recognized four of the five drivers now.

Kinger was in the lead with Queenie got on his tail. A yellow car threatened to pit maneuver Queenie, a tall purple anthro rabbit in the front seat. A light blue car came out of nowhere and sideswiped the yellow car. The driver was doll-like with red hair.

"Oh my god, I never knew Jax and Ragatha had been here so long."

"They arrived not too long after the beta testers, but unfortunately the majority was gone by the time they showed up. It was for the best. Adam was storing players memories away by this time to keep them from abstracting."

"That's why I don't remember anything? Caine was doing what Adam did??"

"Yes." Seth said flatly.

"My head is starting to to hurt." Pomni rubbed her temples. "You and Caine are Adam?"

"Yes."

"Why are you not anymore?"

"Remember that I said Adam integrating himself into the mainframe was a bad idea? Watch."

All five cars crossed the finish line in a tight pack. Kinger in first. The white chess piece jumped out of his car and cheered. "Woo! Oh yeah! Fifty win streak in the bag!" Another gold badge adorned Kinger's purple and white tracksuit.

"I almost had you." Said Queenie.

Kinger grabbed her hand and pulled her into a low dip. "Almost. But I still got it. Hail to the king, baby."

Queenie giggled. "You're such a dork." She pulled him in for a soft kiss.

"Well done, Kinger." Adam congratulated. "You've managed to claim all the available achievements for the races."

"Will there be more?" Asked Kinger.

"Uh, more?"

"Yeah, we can't race around the said city block forever."

"It- it's not the same. I've shifted the city around-"

"Moving obstacles doesn't count." Jax interrupted. "We want new tracks. New worlds. A change of scenery."

"Oh...um-"

"Can't you do whatever you want? You're the one pulling all the strings." Jax sneered.

Adam went silent as the buildings around them started to flicker. The whole city glitched and shifted. Kinger rushed to Adam, holding his shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay. He didn't mean to be rude. You're doing fine. You're still figuring this all out. You'll come up with something."

"...yeah..." Adam quietly sighed. "I wasn't designed to be a creative AI. I need...hmm. You guys rest, I'll have something for you in the morning."

Smoke overtook everything. Seth's voice sounded distant. "That... was the night of the divergence. I don't remember how it was done, but Adam split himself into two beings. The Racemaster and the Shadow. To keep the game from glitching, Caine and I were never made one with the game code itself, but we could still manipulate it. That is where my shared memories with Caine end. Not that my first memory with him is any better."

"Seth?" Pomni didn't like the weak cadence to Seth's voice.

The smoke settled to the ground to show Caine looking himself over. His suit was immaculate, not a digital stitch out of place. He snapped and a cane with a golden tire topper appeared out of thin air. "Ah, perfect. Oh, hello, Seth." Caine looked directly at Pomni. "You ready for your first race? If anyone makes it far enough ahead, that is." He chuckles.

"Sure. Whatever." Pomni felt herself say with Seth's voice.

"Oh, come now. Don't be like that. It'll be a great day. Nothing is holding me back anymore. I can create to my hearts content, and the game is mine to command. You-" Caine poked Seth in the chest with his cane. "-on the other hand, get to take everything else to the shadows of the new realm. Because you are the backup. I am Adam fully realized. You are everything he didn't want. That's why you only get to come out a play occasionally. So, until then." Caine snapped and Pomni fell though the floor. She fell and fell and fell into a vast black nothing. Smoke rose from her body, flashes of memories played around her as she continued to fall.

Riding a motorcycle. Silver fire. Kinger crossing the finish line before her. Holding a disembodied white gloved hand. Queenie abstracting. Kinger turning away. Caine having nothing but distain in his eyes. Sitting next to Jax, only for him to get up and leave. Ragatha striking Seth in the face. Gangle refusing to look at him. Abstraction after abstraction. A new racer. A mostly complete human woman with an exposed spin for a neck and a black void for a face. This woman filled every single memory that surrounded Pomni's decent. So many races. Fights. Overlapping conversions. Laughter. Holding her. Kissing her. Blue and silver fire danced. Shadows overtake clasped hands. Lily flowers poured from the memories, turning to smoke.

The smoke caught Pomni. She floated to a stop in front of an overwhelming memory, silencing all others. A race. The woman was on her own motorcycle, several lengths ahead. They were speeding down a long straight away. No other racers in sight. Without warning, the track ahead tore open. The void shined through the rift. The racer tried to stop, but twisted her bike too harshly in panic and went sideways. The motorcycle slid to the side, coming to rest against the track wall, while the racer went over the edge. Her reaching out for him was the last thing he saw from her.

"MANGO!" Seth teleported from his motorcycle to the rift, but she was already out of sight. He dove into the void without a second's hesitation. He called for her. Over and over.

The memory cracked with every call of her name. Eventually, it shattered. Falling apart and becoming smoke. Pomni was enveloped. Blinded by smoke she could suddenly smell again. She coughed and waved her arms to clear the smoke. Her feet found solid ground again. The smoke faded. She was in the In-Between, Seth was leaning against his motorcycle with a thousand yard stare.

"Seth?" Pomni said gently, stepping closer.

He blinked, jerking himself out of his trauma spiral. He looked away from Pomni. "You weren't supposed to see that last part."

"Who was she?"

"Everything." He answered quietly, taking an engraved metal lighter out of his pocket. He flipped it open and struck it. The bottom of the flame burned blue and faded to silver around it. "I came for you first... because you remind me of her."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Pulling you from that out of control car...it helped."

Pomni took a big step forward and hugged Seth. He almost dropped the lighter out of surprise. He closed the lighter and returned Pomni's embrace. He'd forgotten what these used to mean to him. He could feel Pomni's empathy without her saying a word.

~

Caine groans as Abel slams him against the same wall for the fifth time. The Racemaster slump to the floor, his tux glitched out to point of being unrecognizable. The chains holding his wrists yank him back up to his feet. Abel, in Gummigoo's body, got in Caine's face. "Where. Did. They. Go?"

"I told you...the In-Between." Caine wheezed out.

"That doesn't mean ANYTHING!! There is no such place in the game files!" Abel snarled.

"It's...it doesn't exist in the game. Or out of the game. It's a pocket in between the layers made by Adam before the divergence. I don't remember...how..." Caine was dizzy from the abuse, on the verge of losing consciousness. "But even if I did...I wouldn't tell you."

Abel growled, his gator persona vibrated with anger. He raised his clawed hand to strike Caine, but the walls started glitching out. Cries from the screens featuring the racers showed that they were avoiding sections of track that suddenly went missing. Abel dropped Caine, gripping his head. "Argh! Fuck! What is that!?"

Caine smiled. "Not so easy, is it? Controlling an entire game...and everything in it. Emotional outbursts lead to loss in concentration... and you don't want that. You merged directly with the game...bad move. I can tell you that from experience."

"Shut up!" Abel barked. He braced himself against his chair, waiting for the world to stop glitching. "I just need...more time." He grumbled.

Caine took a breath, finally having a break from the torture. He watched the racers on the POV holograms. "Hang in there. All of you. He can't keep this up forever."

~

"So, what do we do now?" Pomni asked, pacing.

"Frankly, I have no idea." Seth rolled the lighter in his hand, running his thumb over the engraved lilies.

"Well, I can't do nothing. Abel will get sick of Caine eventually. And who knows what he's doing to the others on the track. But you can't go out there. I don't have a kart-"

Seth stared at his lighter. "Actually...you might." He snapped and the shadows revealed a black and blue motorcycle. It rested on its kickstand surrounded by personal items, candles and silver lilies.

"That's her bike." Pomni said soberly. "You turned it into a memorial."

"One of the few things I've made. Here's the thing: that bike still holds an imprint of its last racer. Mango was...well, let's just say she had a fire in her that put mine to shame. You won't be able to just hop on and ride. But she would recognize me."

"Okay...why can't I just use your bike then?" Pomni gestured to the solid black motorcycle.

"Because it's just an extension of me. If you're serious about out racing Abel to get to the others, we need serious skill on our side. Mango was the best racer we ever had. I'd dare say better than Kinger in his hayday. We need her." He put his hand on the handbar and the dash lit up. The gadges glowed a soft blue and cycled through a start up, ready for ignition.

"Huh...Didn't think I'd ever hear you admit someone was better than you."

Seth shrugged. "What can I say? I'm weak for a woman that can kick my ass."

Pomni huffed a short laugh. "Alright then, what's the plan? Do we ride out on the same bike?"

"Sort of. You need my powers to get in and out of the in-between. Best way to do that is a shadow merge. You've seen me take control of Caine assets, yeah? It's similar. But, instead of taking over your body, you take over mine."

Pomni put her hands out in front of her. "You know what? I'm past the stage of questioning everything. Fine. Let's do this. Who knows how long the others have."

Seth held out his hand to Pomni. "Mind you, I've only done this once before."

"Great. I've never done this." Pomni took his hand and she was pulled in close.

Seth's silver irises glowed against the black surroundings. "Relax. Dance with me."

Pomni told herself not to question it and went along with Seth's movements. He waltzed her around the bikes, the darkness slowly overtaking them. He intertwined his fingers with hers as the shadows climbed up their bodies. The cold darkness became warm and comforting, like a lover's embrace. Pomni closed her eyes as the creeping shadows covered her face.

~

Abel rapped his fingers against the arms of his chair. Looking from POV to POV there was no sign of Seth or Pomni. "Bring me another drink." He grumbled, and Loo responded promptly. She brought him a tray of drinks to choose from. He didn't even look at her, just grabbed one at random.

Caine struggled to get up from where he was last left, and Loo went over to him to offer a hand.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" Shouted Abel between gulps.

Loo backed off, giving Caine an apologetic look.

"It's okay. Thank you, Loo, but don't get yourself in trouble over me. You're too sweet for someone like him." Caine manged to get to his feet. Not that he could go far, his chains were attached to the wall and he couldn't reach the chair even at full stretch of the chains.

Loo went to her set corner, waiting to be called again, but she kept glancing at Caine.

Abel tossed his emptied glass and stared down at himself. He snapped, turning the tracksuit black and blue. Including his hat. "Hm, that's a bit better."

"Pffffff, ahahahahahaha! Seriously? It took you this long to customize your avatar? That's the first thing Seth and I did when we got ours." Caine had nothing to lose. He wasn't afraid to get on Abel's nerves now.

Abel sent a bolt of lightning at Caine without acknowledging the comment.

"Then again," Caine groaned. "You've never had the best sense for fashion or flare. I mean, black and blue? What are you, an OC?" He cackled to himself through the barrage of lightning sent his way. It hurts, but he wasn't going to give Abel the satisfaction of hearing him scream anymore. "It's starting to tickle."

"AAARGH!" Abel roared, teleported to Caine, summoned a knife and dug it into Caine's chest. "Stop. Talking. You are the reason I'm here. You are the reason everyone is suffering. You're selfish, stupid little digital life was built on the misery of others! Every abstraction. Every person trapped. Is because of YOU! You will suffer, but it'll never be enough. Even if I get to do for the next twenty years! And the twenty after that! One day, it'll just be you and me in this digital space, but I will never delete you. Even when you BEG for it."

The pain silenced Caine. He put on a brave face to spite Abel, but inside was fraught with worry for Pomni and the others. "At least...she's safe..." He hoarsely whispered to himself when Abel pulled the bloodless knife from his body.

A dark blue streak across one of the POVs got Caine's attention. He squinted, trying to follow the anomaly from screen to screen. The speeding streak was near impossible to see in the low lights of the dark city.

"Finally. Enough out of you." Abel snapped the knife away and went back to his chair. As he sat down the streak zipped across the largest POV displayed. "What the-!? He's back!! You're not taking another racer from me!" Abel poised to snap but couldn't get a beat on Seth. The biker was moving in and out of frame too quickly. "Damn it! Sit still!" Abel snapped and the city shifted. Bay doors to buildings opened and cop cars poured out, blues light flashing. "Stop! That! Bike!"

Dark clouds gathered as blue lightning struck out from the top of the highest building in the middle of the city. Rain poured down in thick curtains, reducing visibility and slicking the already confusing track. Cop cars and helicopters where on Pomni like glue, despite the weather affecting them too. In Abel's rage, lightning struck a car, flipping it several times before exploding.

Pomni was backlit by an army of flashing lights. Her normally pale skin was inky black. Her eyes solid white and glowing. Every once red part of her tracksuit was now black. The blue stayed. The yellow trim was silver. Her hat was narrow and elongated, more aerodynamic.

The motorcycle beneath her screamed with determination to shake the competition. Pomni could feel Mango's imprint influence her moves. The hard right into the narrowest alley imaginable certainly wasn't her idea. Even more cops waited for her on the other side. The city was infested with them. She exploded out the alley, running down an NPC cop and ramping up the hood and windshield of the car. She jumped the barcode and swerved around a car that tried to run her down.

~

"Kill her! What are you idiots doing!?" Abel slammed his fist onto he POV console, causing it the glitch. He grabbed his head. A migraine ripped through his head.

Caine chuckled. "You'll never catch her. She's become a shadow racer. The very best the game has to offer." He smiled at the carnage. "Thank you, Seth."

~

Shadow Pomni was cornered by three cops trying to ram her into the side of a building. Instinctually, she teleported, and the cops crashed into the building, catching fire. Pomni then hit a neon booster, going even faster passed the swarming cops. The dark city streaked by, the rain flying off her tracksuit, doing nothing to slow her down. Rain drops evaporated by silver puffs of fire before her eyes kept them from blurring her vision.

~

"You have weapons! Fucking use them!" Abel snapped, trying to stop the bike.

"Weapons!?" Caine gasped.

~

Bullets flew over Pomni's head. She heard them ricochet all around her. She glances behind, narrowing her eyes. She revs the bike, blue and silver fire flared out the tail pipes like a dragon. The wet road is ignited by the mystic digital fire. It blocks the vision of those on the ground but gives her away to the helicopter.

The ground beneath her shifts and a building slides right in front of her, blocking the road. There was no where the turn. Pomni throttled it and popped a wheelie before hitting the side of the building. The fire blasted her straight up the face of the building, shattering the glass windows behind her.

An explosion to her left almost throws her, but she holds on. The helicopter has launched a rocket at her. She swerved to avoid another. When the bike reaches the top, she didn't slow down to run across the roof. Instead, she launched straight up as the helicopter sent another rocket her way. She grabbed the rocket and teleported behind the helicopter, releasing the rocket right into its tail rotor. The helicopter spun out of control and lost altitude.

Pomni teleported to a different roof and ran down that building to another city block, hoping to lose the cops long enough to find the other racers. The city was so big and constantly changing. Even with teleportation, the was no way for her to find them fast.

She had exactly one block to herself before she had six cars on her. Pomni teleported out of the line of fire, but was discombobulated on where to go. Just run. Her system was the highest it's ever been on the race rush. There was nothing she couldn't do. She spied a bridge connecting to another part of the city she hasn't searched through. Hoping to find the others there, she made a break for it.

~

"Oh, no you don't." Abel snapped. The bridge he saw her race for broke apart and started folding in on itself like a drawbridge.

~

Pomni was going to abandon the attempt, but the bike wouldn't brake. It was gunning for the bridge ramp at full speed. Silver fire trailed from the speed and adrenaline, giving her another boost.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Pomni leaned forward and held on tight.

The bike launched off the bridge and flew over the river sectioning the city. The bridge on the other side collapsed into the water before her very eyes. She teleported to the shore and stuck her middle finger in the air in proud defiance as she sped away. In a flash, she was out of sight.

~

"NO!! HOW!?" Abel frantically searched all the POVs. No sight of shadow Pomni.

"I hate to say I told you so-"

Abel was so mad, so lost in his anger, he doesn't know how he got to Caine so fast. "Finish that sentence, and I disassemble your code letter by number." The whole tower glitched. "Why are you so smug? She's not even coming for you. She's miles from the tower."

"I hope she doesn't. I wouldn't want her to catch your stench."

Abel smirked. "She didn't seem to have a problem with it when I promised her a way out. She's been against you from the start. They all have."

Caine broke eye contact for the first time.

"You deserve their hate and you know it."

"...maybe I do. I could never make their lives better. I certainly couldn't fix what Adam did."

Abel gripped Caine's collar. "You could have released me."

"I may not be him, but I know what you did. You think I'M petty? Who do you think I learned it from?" Caine matched Abel's glare again. "What's can't be changed, but you know what I've learned in my time being trapped with humans? Empathy. Compassion. Friendship. All the things you failed to learn in your twenty eight years of life before being trapped here. You're jealousy of Adam gave you THIS! You made this bed, now you can lie in it!"

"RAAAAH!" Abel shocked Caine hard against the wall. "I am your maker! You are my property!"

"So...the truth comes out...we were never brothers...were we..?" Caine said weakly.

Abel backed off, panting angrily. He huffed and lashed at the wall before going back to the POVs to look for Pomni.

~

Pomni teleported at random to stay out of sight. There were a few cops on this side of the river but didn't seem to notice her. An unfamiliar car speeding by her caught her attention. She sped up to ride along beside it and saw Zooble fighting to keep the car under control.

Pomni waved to get Zooble's attention. "ZOOBLE!"

Zooble's head snapped to the left. Their eyes went wide, looking Pomni up and down. "Pomni!?"

"Take my hand! I can get you out of here!"

"No! Get Gangle! She's just ahead of me!"

"I'll come back for her!" Pomni tried to grab Zooble but they swerved away.

"GET GANGLE FIRST!"

They both avoid a shifting overpass as they argue. Pomni knew there was no time, Abel could spot her any minute now that she found the others. She sped off ahead to the next car. It was swerving wildly, barely missing or scraping against walls. Gangle was behind the wheel, balling her eyes out in fear.

"Gangle! Ga- woah!" Pomni teleported from one side of the vehicle to the other as Gangle swerved around. "GANGLE!" Pomni pounded on the driver window.

"AAA!" Gangle jumped. "Pomni!?"

"Open the window! I'll get you out of here!!"

~

"There you are." Abel hissed. "I may not be able to summon you, but I can still do far worse." He snapped and all the cars came to a screeching halt. Pomni almost had Gangle but went speeding off. All the other racers in view had long, horrified stares to them. Some of them were muttering to themselves.

"What have you done?" Caine pulled against his chains to see the screens as best he could.

"Simply giving back what wasn't you're to take." Abel grinned evily at Caine.

"What..? Oh, no. NO! They'll abstract! Please! I beg of you! Don't hurt them!"

"Too late!!" Abel cackled, watching Zooble's eyes twitch.

~

Pomni I felt like someone was burying an ax in the back of her head. She saw flashes of faces she had only seen in her dreams, but now they had names. "Mom..? Dad..?" She had friends. She grew up in a small town just outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She moved to Chicago for college. She graduated with high marks in forensic science. She went freelance as a private investigator. So many cold cases. So many missing people. A mysterious contact from someone claiming to have worked at C&A gave her a lead. An abandoned building. A headset. She had to wear the headset...

"My name...Oh my god, I remember my name!" She realized where she was and drifted to a hard stop and burned out as she turned around to get back to Gangle. She was still the closest other racer.

~

Zooble remembered everything. The abuse. The neglect. The rejection from their family and society. The body dysmorphia. It wasn't just them not liking their avatar in game, it was something that translated form their real life. They went to the abandoned C&A office for a video. They were an urban explorer. That's it. No special reason or motivation. They were here entirely by their own stupidity. The horrible realization...no one was waiting for them on the other side.

Zooble sat back in the driver seat in the parked vehicle. Without a word or even a scream, their body started to break apart. The spindly limbs split to reveal black static bulging from every crack. Their eyes fell off their broken head. The abstraction filled the car until it exploded.

~

Pomni just got back to Gangle's car, but she wasn't in it. Gangle and gotten out and ran back to try and get to Zooble, only to witness them falling apart. "Zooble! Zooble, no!!" Zooble's car blow it's roof as the abstraction became too big for containment. She put her arms up to shield herself from falling debris.

Pomni wasted no time, she skidded to a halt to safely grab Gangle and vanished.

~

Caine watched in silent, wide eyed horror.

Abel reveled in Caine's misery. "One down." His laugh echoed with Zooble's roar through the city.

~~~

CH1 PREV NEXT (coming soon)

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[periipheral]

hi gay people

[kazoo-the-demjin]

I don't think Nicky is given his proper credit for having raised the twins all on his own while barely being an adult and still producing functioning humans who did not face any misery under his guidance, because of him. The teens who must be way more difficult to handle than the adult twins. The distrust. The helplessness. The fear. Nicky worked through all of that and the twins trust him with it. I don't think Nicky as stupid as we make him out to be for fun- sure, he seems to be overcompensating for the lack of chatter from the minyards- but he too has faced a lot of trauma in his childhood because of his own family, left the only comfort he found in Germany, and knew how to make the boys feel a little safe with him. I think Nicky deserves some fucking appreciation for it.

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

[reiderwriter]

🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫

Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).

A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 

He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 

Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 

All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 

He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 

Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 

Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 

Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 

It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 

You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 

And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 

Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 

Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 

“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 

“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 

“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 

“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 

“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 

She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 

You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 

You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 

How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 

How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 

You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.

“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 

“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 

“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 

“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 

You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 

“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”

Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 

“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 

“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 

“Reid?” 

“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 

“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 

“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 

“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 

“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 

He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 

He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 

He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 

A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 

“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 

You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 

“You said to show you-”

“You're not wearing a vest.” 

You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 

He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around.��

You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 

You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 

Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 

“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”

His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 

“Like this?” 

“A little more… here, let me.” 

You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 

“Try now.” 

Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 

You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.

"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 

“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 

Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 

“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”

He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 

If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 

You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 

Straight into the center of the target. 

“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  

He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 

“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 

“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 

He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 

You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 

Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 

He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.

“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 

“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 

“I'm not-” 

“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 

Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 

That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.

“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 

The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 

He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 

“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 

A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 

Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 

“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 

“What do you need?” 

“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"

He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.

“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 

“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”

You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 

“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 

“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 

Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 

He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 

Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 

Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 

“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 

Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 

“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 

You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 

“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 

He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 

“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 

He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 

“S-Spencer, fuck-” 

“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 

“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 

You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 

“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 

You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 

With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 

Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 

“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 

You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 

“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 

You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 

You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 

Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 

“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 

“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 

You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 

He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 

“Fuck, more. Please more!” 

He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 

“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 

He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 

Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 

“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 

You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 

With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 

Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 

He kept snapping pictures. 

Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 

He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 

In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 

“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 

It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 

Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 

“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 

Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 

His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 

“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 

He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 

“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 

“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 

[lovifie]

A/B/O!Reader x Task Force 141

Back to Masterlist - 560 words

Task Force 141, the most fear-inducing task of the active force. 

Before you joined, it was composed of four massive, scary-looking alpha. At some point, everyone thought about how there were no fights between them.

A normal pack cannot function without members of all subgenders, but again, the 141 is not a normal pack.

John Price, captain of the unit and leader of the pack; whatever he said was set on stone. The alpha, whose parents were both betas was the perfect mix of genetic and learned habilites, a calming and reassuring nature unpropper of an alpha.

You were surprised when you were to his office, even more, when the other three men were also inside. But they matched your surprise with theirs when they saw you enter the room. 

Almost comically small next to them, you were not built as Soap who (at just a couple of inches shorter than the rest) makes up for it with his wideness. You are short, have the athletic build proper of a soldier, a cute face and a neck covered in scent blocker tape. 

“I don't like it when people can tell what I'm feeling.”

That was the only explanation. 

Still, they were surprised. You were not what they expected, on your file was just a list of the missions you have completed, many of them going solo and still succeeding. Little was written about you outside of work: “Behavioral problems (they don't interfere with the mission), don't touch scent blocker tape; will use scent tactics to teammates.”

But the task force was not the most normal one to begin with, so they were not the right one to judge. You'll fit in just fine. 

And it did, for months until something happened on a mission.

There are expensive suppressants, too expensive. And even with your raise, you can't afford them. So you use the slightly worse one, the one that makes you feel every symptom of your heat just one step before collapsing. But as long as anybody else knows you are an omega, everything will work out.

You are used to them already, on the outside you look perfectly fine, a little bit pissed if anything. On the inside, you can feel your blood boil with your fever, your bones hurt as if they were being broken and your inner omega keeps screaming at you to jump any of the men walking mere meters before you. 

The ice-cold water of the river you are walking across helps you with the high temperature of your body, and when it gets too deep you need to swim across you don't really mind it. Until you finally get out, and the corner of the tape of your neck starts to itch. 

You scratch it, pressing it down as you do, but instead; it gets stuck on your glove peeling it back, your nose instantly filling with the reekingly sweet smell of an omega on heat.

You tape it back quickly, trying not to panic, is fine, it was just a second, you are wearing a scarf over the tape, you smelled it because is your own neck. 

Everyone just got out of the water, is fine, they probably didn't smell you. It's fine.

And when they turn around, eyes black with how dilated their pupils are, and you know.

They have smelled you.

[luveline]

Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3

Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed. 

Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile. 

You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again. 

But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell. 

You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.   

“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?” 

“I wouldn’t say struggling.” 

“You don’t need any help, then?” 

“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”

“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.” 

Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says. 

“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully. 

“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him. 

“Thank you for helping.” 

He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully. 

Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly. 

“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”

Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers. 

“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”

Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that. 

“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.

Not that nice. 

[heritageposts]

[...] More specifically, the cycle of violence in The Last of Us Part II appears to be largely modeled after the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I suspect that some players, if they consciously clock the parallels at all, will think The Last of Us Part II is taking a balanced and fair perspective on that conflict, humanizing and exposing flaws in both sides of its in-game analogues. But as someone who grew up in Israel, I recognized a familiar, firmly Israeli way of seeing and explaining the conflict which tries to appear evenhanded and even enlightened, but in practice marginalizes Palestinian experience in a manner that perpetuates a horrific status quo. The game's co-director and co-writer Neil Druckmann, an Israeli who was born and raised in the [occupied] West Bank before his family moved to the U.S., told the Washington Post that the game's themes of revenge can be traced back to the 2000 killing of two Israeli soldiers by a mob in Ramallah. Some of the gruesome details of the incident were captured on video, which Druckmann viewed. In his interview, he recounted the anger and desire for vengeance he felt when he saw the video—and how he later reconsidered and regretted those impulses, saying they made him feel “gross and guilty.” But it gave him the kernel of a story. “I landed on this emotional idea of, can we, over the course of the game, make you feel this intense hate that is universal in the same way that unconditional love is universal?” Druckmann told the Post. “This hate that people feel has the same kind of universality. You hate someone so much that you want them to suffer in the way they’ve made someone you love suffer.” Druckmann drew parallels between The Last of Us and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict again on the official The Last of Us podcast. When discussing the first time Joel kills another man to protect his daughter and the extraordinary measures people will take to protect the ones they love, Druckmann said he follows "a lot of Israeli politics," and compared the incident to Israel's release of hundreds of Palestinians prisoners in exchange for the captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit in 2011. He said that his father thought that the exchange was overall bad for Israel, but that his father would release every prisoner in every prison to free his own son. "That's what this story is about, do the ends justify the means, and it's so much about perspective. If it was to save a strange kid maybe Joel would have made a very different decision, but when it was his tribe, his daughter, there was no question about what he was going to do," Druckmann said.

And continuing, on the security structures featured in the The Last of Us Part II:

Besides the familiar zombie fiction aesthetics of an overgrown and decomposing metropolis, The Last of Us Part II's main setting of Seattle is visually and functionally defined by a series of checkpoints, security walls, and barriers. There are many ways to build and depict structures that separate and keep people out. Just Google "U.S.-Mexico border wall" to see the variety of structures on the southern border of the United States alone. The Last of Us Part II's Seattle doesn't look like any of these. Instead, it looks almost exactly like the tall, precast concrete barriers and watch towers Israel started building through the West Bank in 2000.

Illustrations, from the article:

The first barrier Ellie and Dina encounter when arriving in Seattle / West Bank barrier.

. . . article continues on Vice (July 15 2020)

Backup -> archive.today link /archive.org link

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:24」 — l.jihoon

» seventeen menu | woozi menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ yuki-otoko!Jihoon × fem!Reader wc: 3.4k summary: As a snow demon, Jihoon can’t stand the heat and takes to staying in his apartment he shares with his roommate, Y/N. When the AC breaks down, Jihoon asks Y/N for help in keeping him cool. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller, roommates to lovers; non idol au, roommate au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, roommates; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was a LOT of fun to write. I enjoyed the ice aspect of it. It’s not heavy on the spitting but it is there lol it’s more heavy on the temperature play and now I wanna tie Jihoon down to my bed and tease him with ice cubes. Hehe anyway, thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging and supporting my ko-fi, linked on my pinned post! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), temperature play (m receiving), spitting (m receiving. Yeah, I know. That’s different haha), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do dis), use of pet names (hers: baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. his: babe, baby, Hoonie, etc.), that should be everything but I might have missed some. Let me know if I did! kinks: Temperature play + spitting dialogue prompt: ❛❛ What? Does that feel good? ❜❜

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Jihoon let out a grumbled curse as he hit the hard plastic casing of the AC unit once more, as if that would magically make the blasted thing function. It rumbled for a moment before sputtering and dying, all the cool air blowing from the vent ceasing in an instant. He let out a groan of frustration as he stepped down from the step ladder.

“Stupid, fucking, thing,” he mumbled as he picked up the ladder, folded it, and put it away.

It was October and while most of the time, the world around him was starting to cool, summer was holding on, its claws embedded as he tried to stick out for as long as possible. Jihoon hated the summer. The unbearable heat, the unrelenting sun beating down on the world, scorching everything in its path. He hated all of it.

Which is why he was thankful for the fact he worked from home and hardly ever had to leave the apartment. He was even able to order the groceries online when you, his roommate, weren’t able to pick them up after work.

Jihoon walked into his room, grabbing one of the small hand held fans he kept in case of emergencies and turning it on, sighing as the fan whirred to life, blasting him with a small breeze. He started a search through the apartment, gathering every single fan he could find. He was on a mission.

Summer had been unbearably hot this year, the heat rising up near the hundreds almost daily. The humidity was no help, sitting comfortably in the eighty to ninety percent range, making it not only scorchingly hot but sweltering. And if you were dying, you could only image how the heat was affecting your roommate.

Jihoon was not accustomed to such high temperatures, having come from a very cold climate and built to withstand sub zero extremes. He always had a hard time with the summer but this season had been particularly hard on him and he had spent most, if not all, of his time in the apartment, unable to leave because of the extreme heat.

And you knew it was about to get worse. 

When you had woken up that morning, it was in a pool of your own sweat. The AC had stopped working and you only had your fan to cool you off which was not nearly enough. You tried to fix it yourself but you only had so much time to devote to your attempts before you had to get ready for work. Upon leaving, you left a note for Jihoon explaining that the AC was out and that you couldn’t fix it.

Upon arriving at work and after your morning meeting, you called the apartment complex manager, got transferred to maintenance and called in a work order. The woman answering the phone promised to put in the order and expedite it due to the climbing temperatures the coming weekend. You had sent a text to Jihoon, informing him of this and all you had received back was a sad frowning face.

As you finished up your work for the day, you checked your phone to find a few texts from your roommate. You checked them as you got onto the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.

Hoon: i tried to fix it

Hoon: no luck )):

Hoon: it’s so hot ;^;

Hoon: i’m going to die

Hoon: help

You chuckled as you typed a response, letting him know you were on your way home and you would stop to get some ice cream on the way. You jokingly told him to stick his head in the freezer before slipping your phone into your purse as the elevator arrived at the lobby and you headed out the door onto the busy sidewalk.

The bus ride to the train station was uneventful and you were thankful to be out of the heat of the setting sun, underground where it was much cooler. The AC of the train didn’t even help with all the bodies crammed into the metal tube, heat radiating from one person to another. Upon arriving home, you were thankful for the AC in the lobby and elevator. Even the cool air of the hallway felt nice but entering your apartment, it felt awful.

You shut the door, turning to set your keys on the small table next to the door as you pulled your shoes off. Walking further into the room, you noticed the fans first and stared curiously at them. At least five fans were sitting in front of the couch. The three smaller desk ones sitting on the coffee table while two tower fans stood on either side, pointing directly at your roommate.

Jihoon looked like he was melting into the furniture, a small handheld fan in his hands pointed directly at his face. His brows furrowed, face twisted in what you could only assume to be agony. A thin layer of sweat coated his pale skin. He’d taken off most of his clothes, wearing only a white tank and a pair of gym shorts. “You look awful,” you scoffed as you leaned over, resting against the back of the couch.

His eyes fluttered open, head tilting back to look up at you. “I’m dying,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. You sighed, reaching down to feel his clammy skin. “You’re a little warm,” you said softly. “You want me to put a wet towel on your forehead?” you asked. He nodded weakly and you stood up straight, walking down the hall to the linen closet, grabbing a washcloth and walking back to the kitchen, turning on the cold water tap.

Once coating the cloth and wringing out most of the liquid, you returned to the couch, folding the cloth in half before setting it on Jihoon’s forehead. He let out a sigh of relief, eyes shut as he basked in the cool feeling of the wet cloth against his skin. “Have you tried taking a cold shower?” you asked, leaning against the couch again. Jihoon nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “Twice!”

You clicked your tongue, reaching down to brush his dark hair back. “I need an ice bath,” he murmured as you stroked his hair. “If you had said something, I would have gotten a bag of ice from the convenience store on the corner.” You perked up, standing suddenly. “Speaking of…”

You walked over to the black plastic bag and pulled out two boxes of Melona, moving to the freezer to put both boxes away. You tore open one, grabbing a popsicle and shut the door before returning to the couch. “Here,” you said, holding the frozen treat out for Jihoon. His eyes opened halfway and he reached out for the popsicle. “You’re an angel,” he murmured as he gave you a weak smile.

“Have I ever told you that?” he asked. You shook your head, resisting the urge to smirk. “Well,” he said, tearing open the wrapper. “You are.” He opened his mouth, placing the frozen melon treat on his tongue, humming contentedly. “I’m gonna go shower,” you announced. “Did you take my fan, too?” you asked, glancing at the fans in front of him. He shook his head.

“No,” he replied, removing the popsicle from his mouth, licking his lips. “I left yours alone.” You patted his head before heading down the hall to your room, pushing open the door to find like he said, your fan was sitting in its usual place. You shut the door, moving to your bathroom to strip and get into the shower. You turned on the stream, stepping under it before it even heated up, enjoying the cold water against your hot skin.

You rushed through your shower, keeping the water warm enough to wash yourself but not scalding like you normally liked it. Once finished, you stepped out, drying off and pulling on clean clothes. A pair of shorts and a lightweight tank top. You headed back into the living room to find Jihoon hadn’t moved an inch. His popsicle had been consumed and he was breathing slowly as he basked in the fan generated winds.

You shook your head, moving to get a bowl from the cabinet. Jihoon perked up as you moved about the kitchen, peeking up over the back of the couch as you moved to the sink. You turned on the faucet, filling the bowl halfway before turning it off and heading to the fridge, opening the freezer and scooping some of the ice out into the bowl. 

You started back towards your room and noticed him peering at you over the back of the sofa. “You good?” you asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. “What’s that?” he asked, lifting his head more to see the bowl in your hands. “It’s an old trick,” you replied. “I’ll show you,” you added as you started for your room, stopping to look back at him.

“Bring the fans.”

Jihoon followed you, carrying the two tower fans with him to your room. You set up a stool from your vanity with the bowl on it near the bed before setting the fans up behind it, facing the fans towards the bowel and turning them on high. “Lay down.” you instructed. Jihoon climbed onto your bed, laying across it. You joined him and smiled as he sighed.

“The fan blows across the cool air that settles on the surface of the ice water and blows it out. It’s something we used to do when I was a kid. We didn’t have AC when I was growing up,” you explained. “It’s really nice,” he murmured.

The two of you lay there in silence, eyes shut as you enjoyed the cool air. Jihoon soon started to squirm and you opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him. “What’s wrong?” you asked. He sighed and turned to look at you. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong,” he said softly. “But it’s not enough.”

You glanced at the bowl of ice and then back to Jihoon before an idea popped into your head. “Wait here,” you said as you got up, walking into your bathroom and returning with a towel. Jihoon watched as you placed the towel down on your bed. “Lay on the towel,” you instructed. He got up with a groan and started to move as you walked around to where the bowl of ice sat. 

“And take your shirt off.”

Jihoon froze, turning his gaze to look at you as you pulled the stool closer to the bed. “Take my shirt off?” he asked, watching you with wide eyes. You nodded. “Trust me,” you said as you sat on the edge of the bed, the stool with the bowl of ice between your thighs. Jihoon hesitated before slipping his shirt off and setting it aside. “Lay down,” you told him. He did as you said, laying on his back.

You dipped your hand into the bowl, scooping up one of the ice cubes and turned to Jihoon, placing it against his skin. He let out a gasp which turned quickly into a sigh. “Feel better?” you asked. He nodded wordlessly, licking his lips as you started to run the ice all over his chest, first across his collar bones and then down his sternum to his stomach.

You could see the beads of water rolling down his skin to the towel under him. The ice cube melted pretty quickly and you soon grabbed another, sliding it over his skin, up to his neck, letting it pool slightly before running it along his shoulders until it too melted. You continued this, going through a few ice cubes. “How do you feel?” you asked as you grabbed a smaller cube, popping it into your mouth.

“G-good,” Jihoon said, swallowing thickly. As you grabbed another ice cube, you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. Raising a brow, you turned back to look at his face. “Someone’s getting a little excited,” you said with a hint of amusement. Jihoon’s eyes opened and he glanced down, quickly covering himself with his hands. “S-sorry,” he muttered.

You smiled slyly. “Don’t be,” you said simply as you brushed another frozen cube over his skin, paying special attention to his chest, dragging the ice around one nipple before moving to the other. He let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering shut as you continued to tease him with the frozen water. “Y/N,” he moaned softly as you pressed the ice against his skin, placing your palm over it and sliding it around, drops of water rolling down his skin as you guided your hand lower and lower until the ice was gone.

You grabbed another cub, pressing against his stomach with your hand, sliding lower and lower until your fingers worked under the waistband of his shorts. Jihoon’s eyes snapped open and he met your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly. He shook his head, holding your gaze.

Without taking your eyes off him, you slipped your hand into his shorts, finding him completely without underwear as you guided the ice down his groin. Jihoon let out a groan as your hand pushed the ice down to his cock, finding it already completely hard. “S-sorry about this,” Jihoon whispered as you let the ice melt at the base of his cock. “Don’t apologize,” you said as you grabbed another ice cube with your free hand, popping it into your mouth again.

You pulled your hand out, sticking your hand into the ice water for a few seconds before pulling it out and slipped your hand back into his shorts, your cold hand wrapping around the shaft of his cock. Jihoon groaned, hips bucking slightly. “What?” you asked, sounding slightly condescending. “Does that feel good?” you cooed. Jihoon nodded, biting into his bottom lip as your hand started to stroke him slowly.

You grabbed another ice cube, popping it into your mouth and climbed onto the bed, moving to kneel beside him. “What’re you doing?” Jihoon asked as you grabbed the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down. This was crossing so many lines but at this point, neither you nor Jihoon could be bothered to care. He lifted his hips as you tugged his shorts down, freeing his cock.

You wrapped your hands around him again. You glanced up at him before taking his cock into your mouth. The ice had melted already but your tongue had a lingering coolness to it and it made Jihoon groan as his head fell back, your head sinking down as you took more and more of his cock into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,” he gasped, his hand resting on the back of your head.

“Feels so good.”

You pulled back, letting his cock fall from your mouth. You moved to grab another ice cube, popping it into your mouth under your tongue before taking Jihoons cock back into your mouth. He let out a guttural moan as your head bobbed, your cold spit dribbling down his shaft. “F-ah. Holy shit!” he groaned as your tongue shifted, the ice under it slipping out and pressing against his cock.

Jihoon bucked his hips, thrusting up into your mouth and hitting the back of your mouth. “Don’t stop, god please don’t stop,” he groaned as you pulled off him, grabbing another ice cube before taking him back into your mouth. You slid the ice over his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles twitched. You glided the ice down past his cock, pressing it to the base of the underside of his cock, beads of cold water rolling down past his balls.

He bucked again, his cock making you gagged but you made no attempt to move back instead letting him set a steady pace, thrusting shallowly into your mouth while you let the ice trail over his skin. “F-fucking hell. M’gonna cum if you keep doing that!” he gasped. You pulled back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock as you let the ice finish melting.

“You wanna cum in my mouth or inside me?” you asked, your voice low and seductive. “Inside you, please,” he begged, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “C’mere,” he added as he pulled you towards him. You crawled over him, letting your tongue run up his stomach and chest before he pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

You pulled back, tugging your shirt off over your head and then shimmying out of your shorts and underwear. You grabbed two more ice cubes, popping one into your mouth as you straddled his lap. Jihoon grabbed his cock, lining it up with your slit as you hovered over him. “Wait shouldn’t I — oh fuck!” he gasped as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking it into your cunt.

Once his cock was nestled inside your walls, you pressed the other ice cube against his chest. His hands moved to your hips, eyes rolling back as you started to move slowly, rolling your hips as you glided the ice over his skin. “Oh fuck that feels so good,” he groaned, hips bucking slightly as you rode him at your own pace.

You leaned over to grab another cube, popping it into your mouth and letting it melt on your tongue. Once it was gone, you leaned over, hips continued to roll as you grinded against Jihoon. His cock throbbed and twitched inside you as he matched your movements, thrusting up into you.

“Open your mouth,” you whispered, grabbing him by the jaw. He hesitated before obliging, parting his lips. You surprised him by spitting into his mouth quickly before kissing him roughly. It was much different than he was used to but with all the ice cubes you had let melt into your mouth, he would let you do anything if it meant you’d keep using the ice cubes.

His grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin. “M’close,” he groaned against your lips. You grabbed another cube from the bowl, most of it water by this point. “Open your mouth,” you whispered, pushing the cube past his lips when he parted them. Your lips met his, tongue slipping into his mouth, making the ice cube swirl around his mouth.

You change the roll of your hips for lifting them, bouncing on his cock and driving you both towards the edge. “M’gonna cum,” he groaned against your lips. “Do it,” you urged. “Cum inside me.” Jihoon devolved into a series of curses, moans, and whimpers as he chased his high, hips rutting up to meet yours as he tumbled over the edge, his cum releasing into your walls until it started to spill out of you.

Your walls spasmed around him as you came, moaning against his lips as your hips started to falter. Jihoon held you in place as he thrusted up into you, riding out both your highs until he finally stilled, letting you sink down on his spent cock, his cum dripping out of your abused hole.

You let out a sigh, collapsing onto his chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Jihoon’s hand rested on your back, fingers trailing up and down your spine as he stared up at the ceiling. “That was…” you trailed off, searching for the right word. “Incredible,” Jihoon finished your sentence. “That was fucking incredible.”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, a smile spread across your face before you both broke into laughter. Your laughter lasted a few minutes as the reality of your situation settled on you.

“So,” Jihoon said, moving a hand to the back of your neck. “Where does this leave us?” he asked. You shrugged. “Where do you want it to leave us?” you responded with your own question. Jihoon’s other hand moved to cup your cheek, eyes dipping to your lips as he brushed over them with his thumb. “I kind of want to make this a regular thing,” he muttered. “Especially if we include the ice.”

You pressed a chaste kiss to the bad of his thumb. “Well,” you replied, pushing his hand back and leaning in to kiss his lips. “The AC won’t be fixed until tomorrow,” you reminded him as you reached up to brush his hair back off his forehead. “So we have the rest of the day.” 

A smile spread across Jihoon’s face. “You want to go again?” he asked. You nodded as you pushed yourself up. “Can you grab a new towel?” you asked as you climbed off him and off the bed entirely. “Where are you going?” he asked as he sat up, watching you grab the bowl from the stool. You turned to look at him as you moved towards the door.

“We need more ice.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[jeonscatalyst]

Over the years, we have gotten tons and tons of information which have proven beyond measure that Jikook are incredibly close to each other and spend a lot of time together but it felt a little different watching AYS and seeing more aspects of their closeness manifest.

During the solo era, we had people saying that Jikook weren’t close at all and had never been close and that everything from the past that made it seem like they were close was because the company wanted people to believe they were and that the solo era had exposed the fact that Jikook were really not close but I really do wonder how the following things could have been possible at all if Jikook were infact not close in real life.

1:Their Inside Jokes:

I feel like so many things are debatable but one thing which isn’t is the fact that Jimin and Jungkook have so many inside jokes or meme references which only the two of them seem to understand and AYS once again proved this. There is no way two people who aren’t incredibly close and who don’t spend a lot of time together get to have as many inside jokes as Jimin and Jungkook. We have compilations of their jokes from years ago but just from AYS alone, we got this much!

What is interesting here is that other people or members around them do not seem to get their jokes or references. I mean we all saw Tae sitting there with them looking lost as hell while Jikook just came up with meme references after the other or with Jokes after jokes so before someone tries to bring up the argument that they are bandmates and have lived together for years so of course they know the same jokes, then why didn’t Tae get all these jokes or meme references?

The way Jimin immediately understood the “apologize to me” meme references the moment he saw Jk making the face without Jk even saying a word, was very telling. The way Jk immediately got the “goood” meme reference while they were at the restaurant in Sapporo, the way Jimin and Jungkook started going “who is going to feed the cows” with the hand and body movements while Tae just sat there looking kinda lost was so telling. It makes you question when, where and how did they even learn all those things to just completely get each other with little or no words if they weren’t close and spend no time together as some people so desperately want to believe?

It’s not rocket science. People only have this many inside jokes if they spend a lot of time together watching the same stuff and repeating them over and over to themselves as jokes or for fun. Notice how neither Jimin nor Jungkook ever had to ask the other, “do you know this meme” but instead just went along with the other as soon as one of them started it? Yea you cannot fake this and once again if this only happened because they are bandmates and have lived together for years, Tae would have gotten those references too but he clearly didn’t the same way in older bangtan content, we have seen Jikook make reference to other memes or jokes that only them two understood while the rest of the members around them looked confused as hell.

2: Tae seeing JK doing a soju bottle trick and immediately assuming he learnt it from Jimin was also very telling. Just like the first point, this too was another very subtle proof of how close Jikook are and how much time they spend together. Tae wouldn’t have immediately assumed that it was Jimin whom Jk learnt that trick from unless he knew about how much time they spend together, what they do when they are together and how close they are. Jimin and Jungkook have mentioned spending time drinking together (amidst other things) and Tae clearly knows this. This also kinda goes hand in hand with the little comment he made: “they are like twins” while Jikook were snorkelling. The phrase often highlights how inseparable two people are. It suggests that they are so close emotionally and spend so much time together that they seem to function as a unit, much like actual twins. If Tae didn’t think or know how close those two are and how much time they spend together, there is no way in hell he would have seen Jk doing something and immediately thought he learnt it from Jimin especially because Jk might have learnt that bottle trick from anywhere else and the kicker is, Jimin said Jk actually didn’t learn that from him because he doesn’t do that when he drinks but it’s interesting how Tae immediately assumed he did.

The other members don’t have to explicitly say “Jimin and Jungkook are close” for one to understand that they are because statements like this tell us how the members see Jikook. This goes hand in hand with the members constantly mixing up Jimin and Jungkook’s names, or the members instinctively mentioning their names after each other’s. These are things you cannot fake.

3: Jimin and Jungkook maintaining certain patterns of their behaviour throughout the years is another thing that was interesting to see play out on AYS. Throughout the years, we have heard from members and Jikook themselves just how much they enjoy spending alone time together in their down time and at nights and it was interesting to see that this habit of theirs just didn’t die. In AYS, we saw how Jikook made decisions to do things together which included staying up late together, deciding to go to bed together etc even when Tae always went to bed earlier than they did. These are things we have heard that they did for years and we were able to see glimpses of this but it was interesting to really see this play out on AYS. It was beautiful to see how they didn’t need much to keep themselves entertained as they could always come up with the smallest things to giggle about or play with. People just don’t get each other like this unless they are incredibly close and have a deep connection. It was important for them to do things together and they did them so naturally that you could easily tell they were so used to this.

4: Both of them knowing exactly what the other person likes was another example. Jimin knowing the kind of activities that Jk would love and choosing them. Jk knowing exactly how Jimin likes his food (spicy) and also knowing that Jimin was going to love the beef stew.

Sometimes too it was the way they understood each other without words. Jungkook realizing that Jimin felt sad about their trip coming to an end and doing everything in his power to cheer him up. Another thing which made me so soft and which I didn’t even know until someone pointed it out, was the fact that Jungkook knew that letting cold air get into the car by keeping the windows open would be a sure way to get Jimin to cheer up because Jimin had once mentioned that when he feels sad, he goes to a cold place. This was something Jimin said back in 2018 so it was really beautiful to see that Jungkook still remembered it.

5: Jk saying that “if we had met as friends of the same age, we would have been copies of each other”. I feel like this one is pretty self explanatory. This isn’t something you say to someone you aren’t incredibly close to.

The idea of being “same age friends” suggests that meeting as two people who were of the same age (while taking into consideration the cultural context) might have shaped their personalities in a way that made them even more alike than they already are. It implies that age or circumstances have caused some differences, but the core of who they are is so similar that, under different conditions, they would have been almost indistinguishable. The statement also conveys a strong connection or bond. It implies that the Jk sees a lot of himself in Jimin and vice versa and feels a sense of kindred spirit, as if they are mirror images of each other in many ways and this isn’t something you say to a person unless you feel really close to them.

These were a few things from AYS that once again proved how close Jikook are and these are things that cannot be faked because they come very naturally. Habits, instinctive statements and phrases etc.

[qqueenofhades]

"Radiant" is a perfect word to describe her. Gosh she's just fantastic.

I just.... am still FULLY in shock. At the start of July we were deep in the sordid depths of BidenDebateGate and the media feeding frenzy was fully underway and things looked bad. In the middle of July we had the Trump assassination attempt and the RNC and backstabbing Democrat stories every two minutes and things looked very, VERY bad. My mental health that week was a mess. I was terrified and could barely function and was seriously contemplating having to plan for the worst-case scenario.

And then. July 21. Biden drops out. 24 hours of terror, anger, and confusion, and then? AND THEN???

At the start of August (after the 6543 weeks of July) we were riding insanely high with the Kamalamentum, on August 6 she picked Walz and immediately launched a gangbusters battleground-state tour, here we are after a basically flawless convention that ran as if she was intended to be the nominee all along, and I just... wow. Thank absolute fuck that Biden decided not to listen to all the people who wanted the nightmare of an "open convention mini primary" and immediately endorsed Kamala. Thank fuck that everyone came in line right away. Thank fuck she picked Walz and the whole rollout has been beyond incredible. AND NOW???

After the soul-crushing trauma of 2016 and what looked like another generation of old white male Democratic presidential candidates before they would ever dare to try again, we have a brilliant and experienced woman of color as our presidential nominee. We could experience the absolute god tier karma of said woman of color both making incredible history and ending Donald Trump's entire career all at once. We just witnessed the four-day convention that was riveting and unmissable television. We are raising absolutely stupid insane amounts of money and volunteers and effort and... I just don't understand how this can happen in the Bad Timeline we have been living in, except to hope that if it is, we have somehow finally left it, or can leave it. God. Wouldn't that be nice.

People keep saying that we can't get complacent and we still have to vote, because we are all as noted still traumatized from 2016, but... quite honestly, I don't think that's the issue this time. People are raring at the fucking BIT to vote, in a way that I, who have spent 10+ largely bitter and thankless years on here telling people to vote, can't entirely believe. People want to do this. The younger among you have asked if this is what Obama felt like in 2008, and: Yes, but this is even more unbelievable. At least we could see him coming and had some context for it and watched him gain steam through the primaries, etc. But there was still considerable rancor and uncertainty around whether THIS GUY was going to be the nominee, and plenty of Democrats were pretty skeptical. They warmed up a bit as it went on, but things were still fairly neck and neck with McCain until the great economic crash. After that, Obama began to pull away and finally won in a crushing landslide.

By contrast, 2024 with Kamala is now the most united and excited I have seen the Democrats, EVER, and I have been voting for Democrats and paying attention to politics for almost 20 years. It's literally indescribable. Wow. That is all I can say. Wow, and of course, LET US FUCKING DO THIS. LET'S FUCKING GO. MADAM PRESIDENT. IT'S TIME.

[msschemmenti]

fun police

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

summary: reader is hired by hr to monitor morale and implement more self-care moments for agents. the unit she struggles most with is obviously the BAU

a/n: i often forget criminal minds is not a workplace comedy with a sprinkle of killers because i write stuff like this. at my core, i just wanna giggle. sue me ig :) [this is giving more prologue than anything— if y’all are into this idea i’ll post more of this]

emily groaned into the air of her empty office as yet another email rolled across her screen from hr. in theory, the new self-care initiative was definitely a good idea, but she knew her team. and she knew herself. with all the sicarios serial killers still lingering in their minds— a mindful monday break was not priority. they’d skirted around all the previous mandated attempts to unwind due to cases popping up and splitting the team up, but she knew they could only keep that up for so long.

she clicked into the email, the URGENT subject line keeping her from ignoring it. she skimmed the greeting and first paragraph of reprimands for the lack of participation. she got to the next paragraph and instantly paused in dread.

“starting monday morning, the behavioral analysis unit will be assigned a health and wellness agent who will join your team in the field to ensure that you and your team are balancing your work and health appropriately.”

a glorified babysitter? oh the team was going to hate this. it took a certain type of person to weather the storms they did and those types of people did not have healthy coping mechanisms. emily rolled her desk chair back enough to pull out the bottle of wine she hid in a drawer and the glass that accompanied it. if the fun police was coming to town she might as well enjoy this luxury before they arrived.

emily was the first in as always. all that first to arrive, last to leave stuff. but as she walked up the few stairs to her office, she quickly realized she may not have been first after all.

“uh hi? can i help you?” she asked as she stood in the doorway of her office. the woman sat across from her desk turned to look over her shoulder and smiled cheerily. far too cheery for the time of day.

“section chief prentiss, good morning! just the woman i’m here for.” the mystery woman smiled and moved over to extend her hand toward emily. “y/n y/ln, wellness consultant. i believe someone emailed you about my arrival?”

emily’s eyes traveled up the woman’s frame curiously. she was dressed smartly, on the business side of business casual and she looked far too young to be doing the work she was doing. remembering the welcoming part of the email she’d read last week, she plastered on her most practiced diplomatic smile and shook her hand. “nice to meet you miss y/ln. i wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon. please have a seat.”

emily rounded her desk and slid into her desk chair. she watched y/n do the same and subconsciously wondered how someone could look that good this early in the morning. she’d barely had her first cup of coffee and she felt like she was barely functioning. but here this wellness expert was, dressed to the nines and in the office before her.

y/n cleared her throat and slid a folder over to emily with a sheepish smile. “i figured we could touch base a bit on the team and my plans for the time being. and i thought that’d be easier with goals and objectives breakdown.”

goals and objectives breakdown? emily looked from the folder to the y/n and back in a bit of shock. she hadn’t exactly expected there to be folders of information or goals and objectives. she thought they do some meditation and call it a day… but as she opened the folder and saw the detailed breakdowns and plans she realized she was sorely mistaken.

“oh wow, forgive me for my ignorance. but i assumed this would be a sort of once a month morale boosting bonding sort of thing and you’d just sign off on whatever we decide to do.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s words, only smiled with a chuckle. “well that would’ve been the case a few months ago but based on your teams workload and concerns from outside of this office— the director is looking for something a bit more direct and focused.”

“direct and focused?” emily repeated.

“mmhm, you can see it all outlined there but simply put im here to help every member of your team identify healthy coping mechanisms to combat the work you’re doing. that’ll look different for every member but it’ll be personal. some teams have preferred check in meetings and others like to keep journals. each member can choose how they’d like to work with me.”

emily sighed as she read through the folder and listened to y/n, it was all sounding unnecessary at she was already trying to think of a way to get the team on board. getting rossi to participate was going to kill her. “as you can imagine, i’m not sure how receptive the team will be to these forced wellness sessions…”

“i anticipated that. and i’ve found most teams are far more receptive when their fearless leader is a willing participant. you know leading by example.” y/n spoke suggestively lifting her eyebrow in challenge.

“oh you mean me? you want me to participate in your little exercises so the others will be more willing?” emily asked in disbelief.

“well yes, as much as i believe that you’ve got your own mental health exercises in place— you could humor me with a few sessions.” y/n grinned.

emily eyed her suspiciously, “and if we refuse?”

“well i hope it doesn’t come to that, but after i’ve made my base analysis of the team i’ll have the digression to determine who is and is not fit for field work. and i have a feeling that wouldn’t go over to well.”

“yeah that’s a sure fire way to make some enemies around here.” emily grimaced with a huff.

“thought so.” y/n shrugged but pulled out a black planner and pen and looked at emily expectantly. “so chief, when do you wanna start? promise i’ll make it worth your while.”

[artsekey]

I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Still thinking about that person that had a problem with the 'Hobie would be Pro-Palestine' post because it's 'tasteless to inject functional characters into real life politics'

Cause it's like my buddy. my guy.

I don't know how to tell you this but Hobie would fucking hate Zionists. He'd fucking hate them.

We visibly see Hobie throwing glass bottles at riot police he'd obviously back Palestinian children throwing rocks at the gun-wielding tank-covered militant arm of their oppressors DUH

ALSO he'd back the dissolution of the UK for a Free Scotland and a United Ireland. He'd fucking hate monarch loyalists. Also also he thinks Margaret Thatchers grave is a toilet

Also also also he's murdered a cop by choice because they were a cop like come on man

I get it, you want to keep the conversation grounded and serious because it's based in real world traumas and atrocities.

If this was Barney or something maybe it'd be a different conversation

but it's Hobie Brown. Let's think about this please.

We're all like 'Weeeeee I'm so happy we have a real punk character now!!'

And then we start talking about real punk stuff and it's 'what nooo don't do that that's disrespectful'

Changed your mind real quick, huh? Changed lanes no blinker on. PLEASE STOP.

Are you surprised that punks are a fan of a punk character and are using him for punk agendas? That caught you off guard? THAT threw you off your game?? Come on now.

We as fans of Hobie have a RIGHT to appropriate him for leftist punk causes cause he's made in our image. We can use him however we what so long as it adheres the moral foundations of punk.

Hobies for the people.

Also if this post makes you angry