#THE ERA OF THE BROKEN COMPUTER IS OVER

[raddestrose]

YALL I CAN GET BACK TO READING ALL THE BOOKS

MY COMPUTER IS FIXED

[adafruit]

🎄💾🗓️ Day 4: Retrocomputing Advent Calendar - The DEC PDP-11! 🎄💾🗓️

Released by Digital Equipment Corporation in 1970, the PDP-11 was a 16-bit minicomputer known for its orthogonal instruction set, allowing flexible and efficient programming. It introduced a Unibus architecture, which streamlined data communication and helped revolutionize computer design, making hardware design more modular and scalable. The PDP-11 was important in developing operating systems, including the early versions of UNIX. The PDP-11 was the hardware foundation for developing the C programming language and early UNIX systems. It supported multiple operating systems like RT-11, RSX-11, and UNIX, which directly shaped modern OS design principles. With over 600,000 units sold, the PDP-11 is celebrated as one of its era's most versatile and influential "minicomputers".

Check out the wikipedia page for some great history, photos (pictured here), and more -

And here's a story from Adafruit team member, Bill!

The DEC PDP-11 was the one of the first computers I ever programmed. That program was 'written' with a soldering iron.

I was an art student at the time, but spending most of my time in the engineering labs. There was a PDP-11-34 in the automation lab connected to an X-ray spectroscopy machine. Starting up the machine required toggling in a bootstrap loader via the front panel. This was a tedious process. So we ordered a diode-array boot ROM which had enough space to program 32 sixteen bit instructions.

Each instruction in the boot sequence needed to be broken down into binary (very straightforward with the PDP-11 instruction set). For each binary '1', a diode needed to be soldered into the array. The space was left empty for each '0'. 32 sixteen bit instructions was more than sufficient to load a secondary bootstrap from the floppy disk to launch the RT-11 operating system. So now it was possible to boot the system with just the push of a button.

I worked with a number DEC PDP-11/LSI-11 systems over the years. I still keep an LSI-11-23 system around for sentimental reasons.

Have first computer memories? Post’em up in the comments, or post yours on socialz’ and tag them #firstcomputer #retrocomputing – See you back here tomorrow!

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

They don't talk about it.

But there's no way Nate should know those things. No way the client could have told him, no way he could've figured it out on his own. Not when these things were nothing more than fleeting thoughts from the mark. But Sophie notices him quietly go for the scotch behind the counter and rub at his head in pain with extra vehemence some days despite the latest con having no personal connection to him.

They don't talk about it.

But someone should've recognized Sophie on that con. There's no way she could have that many characters per con. No way none of those diplomats didn't recognize her from any of her previous cons. Not when she didn't change any more than her clothes and accent. But Nate notices her features seem to flicker at the peace and safety of home when she thinks he isn't watching.

They don't talk about it.

But no one could've survived that. And certainly not looking the way he does. There's no way he didn't come out of that fight broken and bloodied to all hell. Not when instead he walks out with a purposeful stride and only a clenched jaw, rolling his shoulders. But when he's cooking and accidentally burns himself, Parker notices the unmarked skin left behind.

They don't talk about it.

But not all vents are human sized. They all saw the size of the vent cover as she exists with a grin. There's no way she could've fit in there. Not when the human body can't bend that way, a way that even the greatest contortionist can't bend. But some days Hardison notices as she seems to stretch and bend before his eyes when she's feeling relaxed and safe enough.

They don't talk about it.

But that's not how computers work. There's no way Hardison could access that kind of thing. Not when he describes how he did it like that. Not when he does it so quickly like that. Not when he says he's taken berries and the next thing they know he's recreated a colonial era journal to perfection. But Eliot swore he shoved a glass of water at him, not more goddamn orange soda.

They don't talk about it, the thing lingering over their heads as they conduct each con, the unacknowledged thing between the five of them that's a little deeper than just a desire to take down the rich and powerful.

They aren't perfect, they all know that- sometimes they're too good with their covers, sometimes they have to shift gears as the con unfolds before them, but somehow things always seem to work out.

But no one asks about it, so-

They don't talk about it.

[vodika-vibes]

Happy 500!

I would request a sapphire with Rex in autumn, a season of change, Rebels Era time frame.

Thank you!

Forever Is A Long Time

Summary: Years after the end of the Clone Wars, you and Rex have managed to make a life for yourselves on your grandparent's old farm. Autumn always brings its own challenges, but that’s not always a bad thing.

Pairing: Rebels!Rex x Former Jedi GN! Reader

Word Count: 934

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. You have been warned.

Prompt: Sapphire - Wise Love

A/N: Full honesty, I've never seen Rebels, so I decided to play around with everything. I hope you like it!

You think you love autumn.

You love how the world bursts into a wild array of colors, how the miserable summer heat settles into something tolerable, and how everything is pumpkin or apple-flavored.

Lazily, you stretch your arms over your head, able to feel Rex’s shirt creep up your thighs as you reach up, though it falls back into place as your arms fall back to your side. 

Speaking of Rex, where is he?

You turn your head away from the window that looks out at the orchard, to focus your attention deeper into your home. He hasn’t gone outside yet, though you know that he plans to work on his speeder today. Your handsome Captain seems to think that having a working speeder will make the harvest easier.

And he’s right, it will.

But you’re not going to tell him that.

“Rex?”

“Back here, mesh’la!” He calls from the back of the house.

Curiously, you push away from the kitchen counter and follow his voice through the halls until you reach the back hallway which leads to the mudroom. 

“What are you doing?” You ask as you settle on the bench that was built into the wall, your head tilting to the side as you try to figure out what, exactly, he’s working on.

He glances at you, a grin on his face, “What? You can’t tell?”

You scrunch up your nose at him, and then glance at his project. It’s some kind of electronic device, based on what you can see. But what you don’t know about computers and mechanics could probably fill several archives. “I give up.”

“You didn’t even make a guess, cyare.” His voice is dancing with amusement, and you make a face at him.

“Oh, I dunno…Is it a comm?”

“Close, but no.” Rex focuses on it for a moment longer, snapping a few pieces together, “It’s the old radio that your brother gave you.”

“The radio he broke in a fit of temper? That radio?”

“The very same.”

“Huh.” You move off the bench so you’re able to lean on Rex’s shoulder to peer at his project, “Why are you fixing it?”

“Because it was broken,” He replies simply.

You nudge him gently, “Come on, Rex. It’s been broken for years.”

He glances at you and then sets his tools on the ground so he’s able to tug you onto his lap. You release a startled noise as he settles you comfortably on his lap and leans in to press his forehead against yours.

His dark eyes scan your face, and you aren’t able to stifle your soft giggle as you reach up and press your hands against his cheeks, your fingers gently brushing his beard.

Rex’s eyes crinkle with the strength of his smile, and his arms tighten around you, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” You reply, grinning widely. 

He tugs you into a gentle kiss that turns into several gentle kisses, pulling even more delighted laughter from you. When he kisses you like this, you feel like you’re back at the start of your relationship, all those years ago. When he was a Clone Captain, and you were an Archivist at the Jedi Temple.

“I saw you looking at the radio the other day,” Rex says lightly, “So I decided to fix it.”

“You did?”

He bumps his nose against yours, “What? You think after all these years I can’t tell what you’re thinking?” Rex teases lightly.

“Of course you do,” You murmur in turn. “I was considering throwing it away, though.”

“Well, now there’s no need.”

“Rex,” His name is a laugh, “We have so much stuff.”

“Well, seeing as neither of us had any stuff when we were younger, I think we have just enough.” He adjusts you on his lap and focuses his attention on the radio again, snapping a few more pieces back together, before putting the whole radio together and standing it up.

And then he flips the power switch, and soft music fills the hallway.

Familiar music.

You recognize the tune immediately, it's the song that was playing the day that Rex confessed to you. The song that was playing when he proposed. The song that you danced your first dance to.

“Well now,” Rex grins at you, “Seems like fate.” Gently he nudges you to your feet and then stands up to tug you into his arms. “May I have this dance?”

You beam at him, “You can have all of them.”

He spins you in the narrow hallway, before pulling you flush against him. His expression is soft and warm and for you and you alone. 

“Tell me, cyare.” He murmurs as the pair of you sway to the soft music, “Is this what you expected from life?”

“No, I didn’t.” You snake your arms around his neck, “But this is so much better than I expected.”

“That right?”

“I’ll spend forever in your arms,” You whisper to him.

Rex chuckles, “Forever is a long time, cyare.”

“And I’ll happily spend every minute of it with you.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, “You spoil this old clone.”

“Well, someone has to.” You reply against his lips.

His grip tightens around your hips, “Do we have plans for today, cyar’ika?”

“Nothing that can’t be put off for a couple of hours.”

“Good.” He lifts you as if you weigh nothing, and then carries you into your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him as your giggles fill the home you built with Rex.

Forever might be a long time, but in your opinion, it’s not nearly long enough.

@bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach @dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435 @etod

@bb8-99 @kiss-anon @continous-mistakes @yoitsjay @imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

[artyandink]

amoralism | thirteen

SUMMARY: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Dean’s the mole, the Sucide Squad formation and it being a train wreck, a bit of family problems, angst, smut

STW: unprotected sex (do not do this at any circumstances), oral (f. receiving), betrayal!era Dean sex so it’s kinda like if Demon!Dean would do it which we all love, kind of angsty sex, rough sex, rather emotional

SERIES MASTERLIST

Song Inspo: Tears of Gold - Faouzia

catastrophism

You and Sam were hunched over a pile of papers and computer screens in his dimly lit living room. The room, usually a sanctuary, felt heavy with the weight of your mission. The hum of the computer and the rustling of papers were the only sounds breaking the silence as you scoured for any sign of Dean.

“We’ve got to find him before he goes underground completely,” Sam said, his voice strained but determined. His eyes darted across the screen, following the trail of data that might lead you to Dean. The pressure was mounting; it was evident in the lines etched deep into his face.

You nodded absentmindedly, your eyes glazed over as you flipped through a file with disjointed leads. The stress was palpable, and though you were trying to keep your focus, your thoughts kept wandering back to Dean—the betrayal, the manipulation, the overwhelming realization of it all. It was hard to shake the image of him as the mole, a shadow over every decision and interaction.

Sam glanced over at you, noting the weariness in your eyes and the tight grip you had on the edge of the table. “Hey,” he said gently, “are you okay? You seem...off.”

You blinked, snapping back to reality. “I��m fine,” you replied, though your voice was brittle and unconvincing. “We just need to keep going. We can’t stop now.”

Sam didn’t buy it. He knew you too well. “You’ve been pushing yourself really hard. Maybe we should take a break. It’s been nonstop since—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply, perhaps a little too sharply. “We don’t have time for breaks. Dean’s out there, and he’s a threat. We have to find him before he disappears.”

Sam’s expression hardened slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. “I understand that. But if you’re not in a good place, it’s going to make things harder. We need you at your best.”

You felt a surge of frustration, but underneath it, a deep current of fear and sadness. “I’m fine,” you insisted again, but this time your voice trembled.

Sam’s face softened, seeing through the façade you were desperately trying to maintain. “Look, if you’re struggling, it’s okay. We’re in this together. But you need to let yourself take a breath.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the pressure of it all was too much. You tried to hold back the tears, but they began to spill over uncontrollably. The stress, the worry, the betrayal—everything was crashing down on you, and you felt utterly defeated.

Sam stood up from his chair, his demeanor shifting to one of concern and empathy. “Hey,” he said gently, approaching you. “It’s okay to let it out. We’re going to get through this.”

You couldn’t hold back any longer. You slumped forward, your shoulders shaking with sobs as the tears flowed freely. It was as if all the stress and pain you’d been trying to contain had finally broken free. The sound of your crying filled the room, raw and unabashed.

Sam moved quickly to your side, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. The warmth of his hug was a balm to your frayed nerves. “It’s alright,” he murmured, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’re going to figure this out. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

You clung to him, taking solace in the simple act of being held. His presence was grounding, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in your mind. The tears kept coming, each one a release of pent-up emotion and stress. Sam held you firmly, his hand gently rubbing your back in a soothing rhythm.

As you began to regain some composure, you heard a gentle knock on the door. It creaked open, revealing Jess, rubbing her baby bump. She stepped in, concern etched on her face. “Sam? I heard... Are you guys okay? Do you need anything?”

Sam glanced up, his eyes apologetic. “Hey, Jess. We’re... we’re fine. Just had a bit of a moment.”

Jess looked between you and Sam, understanding dawning on her face. “Do you need something to eat or drink? Maybe just some time to relax?”

You pulled away slightly from Sam’s embrace, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Jess shook her head, her expression gentle. “Don’t apologize. Everyone needs a break sometimes. Here, let me get you something. It’s the least I can do.”

She left the room, her presence a calming one. You and Sam were left alone again, but the tension in the room had lessened. Sam’s gaze was soft, and he gave you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay to take a step back. We’ll get through this together.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Thanks, Sam. I just...I didn’t realize how overwhelmed I was.”

“It’s understandable,” Sam said. “This whole situation is tough on everyone. But remember, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. Jess returned shortly with a tray of snacks and drinks, setting them down on the table. “Here you go,” she said with a warm smile. “Just some comfort food. It might not solve everything, but it can help.”

You managed a small, grateful smile as you took a sip of the tea Jess had brought. The simple act of kindness felt like a balm to your frayed nerves. Jess’s presence, combined with Sam’s unwavering support, helped you find a moment of calm amid the storm.

As you ate and drank, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, the atmosphere easing as you all shared a brief respite from the intensity of the situation. Sam and Jess talked about their plans for the weekend, and you listened, allowing yourself to be momentarily distracted from the pressing worries.

You and Sam made your way through the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the FBI headquarters, the weight of the last few weeks pressing down on you like a vice. The air was thick with the tension that had been building ever since Dean's betrayal came to light, and it was all you could do to keep moving forward. Sam walked beside you, his long strides purposeful, but there was a heaviness to his movements that you recognized all too well. He’d been carrying the burden of Dean’s actions just as much as you had, maybe even more.

As you approached the office of Director Bobby Singer, your stomach twisted in knots. Bobby wasn’t just your superior; he was practically family. He’d known Sam and Dean since they were kids, and he’d watched them grow into the men they were today. The thought of facing him, of telling him that you still had no solid leads on Dean’s whereabouts, made your chest tighten with guilt.

Sam paused in front of the heavy oak door, his hand hovering over the handle. He glanced at you, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of determination and dread. “You ready for this?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You swallowed hard, nodding despite the uncertainty gnawing at your insides. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

With a deep breath, Sam pushed open the door, and you both stepped into the office. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of a desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls lined with bookshelves crammed full of case files, old and new. The scent of leather and paper filled the air, a comforting reminder of the countless hours spent in this room, poring over case details with Bobby.

Behind the large, cluttered desk sat Director Bobby Singer. He was a grizzled man in his late fifties, his once-dark hair now streaked with gray, his blue eyes sharp and calculating. He looked up from the file he was reading, his gaze settling on the two of you with a mixture of weariness and concern. The lines on his face seemed deeper than you remembered, as if the weight of the world had finally begun to take its toll on him.

“Shut the door behind you,” Bobby said, his voice gravelly but not unkind. You did as he asked, the soft click of the door closing behind you punctuating the heavy silence that had settled over the room.

Bobby motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Sit,” he said simply, and you and Sam both sank into the worn leather chairs, the familiar creak of the old furniture grounding you in the moment.

For a long moment, Bobby just stared at the two of you, his eyes flicking back and forth as if searching for something. You could tell he was trying to gauge the situation, to read between the lines of what you weren’t saying. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m guessing you’re here to give me an update on Dean,” he said, his tone neutral but the underlying concern evident.

Sam cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “We’ve been working every lead we’ve got, Bobby, but…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening with frustration.

Bobby’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “But you haven’t found him.”

It wasn’t a question, and the truth of it hung in the air like a lead weight.

You glanced at Sam, seeing the same frustration mirrored in his face. “We’ve been following every lead, Bobby,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s like he’s just… disappeared.”

Bobby’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes, a pain that came from knowing just how far Dean had fallen. He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion that clung to him.

“Dammit,” Bobby muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. He was silent for a moment, his mind clearly working through the implications of what you’d said. Finally, he looked back up at the two of you, his gaze sharp and focused.

“Tell me everything,” he said, his voice firm. “Every lead you’ve followed, every dead end. I need to know where we stand.”

You and Sam exchanged a quick glance before Sam nodded, leaning forward slightly as he began to recount the details of the investigation. “We started with his last known location,” Sam began, his voice steady despite the tension in his body. “After he escaped custody, we traced him to a safe house in Montana. But by the time we got there, he was already gone.”

Bobby nodded, listening intently, his eyes never leaving Sam’s face. “Any sign of where he went after that?”

Sam shook his head, his frustration evident. “Nothing concrete. We found some evidence that he’d been in contact with a few known associates—people we’ve had on our radar for a while. But none of them were willing to talk. It’s like they’re more afraid of Dean than they are of us.”

Bobby frowned, his fingers tapping absently on the edge of his desk. “That’s not surprising. Dean’s always been good at getting people to do what he wants. But this… This is different. He’s not just working with them, he’s controlling them.”

You nodded, the weight of Bobby’s words settling heavily in your chest. “We think he’s been planning this for a long time,” you said quietly. “He’s always been one step ahead of us, like he knew what we were going to do before we did it.”

Bobby’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he processed what you were saying. “And you think he’s working alone?”

The question hung in the air, and you could see the doubt in Sam’s eyes as he considered how to respond. “We’re not sure,” Sam admitted finally. “We know he’s been in contact with some high-level operatives, but we haven’t been able to confirm if he’s officially aligned with any groups. It’s possible he’s acting independently.”

Bobby’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze hardening. “If Dean’s gone rogue, that makes him even more dangerous. He knows our methods, our protocols. He can predict our every move.”

The room fell silent as the reality of the situation settled over you all. Dean wasn’t just another fugitive; he was one of your own, someone who knew the inner workings of the FBI better than anyone. And that made him a threat like no other.

Bobby leaned forward, his gaze piercing as he looked at you and Sam. “So what’s your plan? How do you intend to bring him in?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. The truth was, you didn’t have a concrete plan. Every lead you’d followed had ended in a dead end, every attempt to track him down had been thwarted. And now, sitting here in Bobby’s office, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of hopelessness creeping in.

But before you could voice those doubts, Sam spoke up, his voice firm and resolute. “We’re going to keep looking,” he said, his jaw set in determination. “We’re not giving up, Bobby. We’ll find him. We have to.”

Bobby studied Sam for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded, a reluctant sigh escaping him. “I know you will, Sam. But you need to be careful. Dean’s not the same person you grew up with. He’s changed. And I don’t just mean because of what he’s done. He’s… different.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but wonder just how much Dean had changed. How much of the man you’d known and loved was still in there, and how much had been lost to whatever darkness had taken hold of him.

“We’ll be careful,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “But we need to bring him in, Bobby. Before he does something we can’t undo.”

Bobby’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of the familiar warmth returning to his eyes. “I know you will,” he said, his voice gentle. “Just… don’t let this consume you. Either of you. Dean’s made his choices, and now you have to make yours.”

The words hung heavy in the air, a reminder that this wasn’t just about finding Dean; it was about protecting yourselves, about not losing sight of who you were in the process. And that was something you both needed to remember, no matter how difficult it might be.

The room fell silent again, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you. You could feel Sam’s tension beside you, his fists clenched in his lap as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. You wanted to reach out to him, to offer some kind of comfort, but you weren’t sure what to say. How could you comfort him when you felt just as lost as he did?

Bobby seemed to sense the tension between you, and he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his graying hair. “Look, I know this is hard. It’s hard for all of us. But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

You nodded, grateful for the reassurance, even if you weren’t entirely sure you believed it. “Thank you, Bobby,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bobby waved off your thanks, his expression softening as he looked at you and Sam. “You’re family,” he said simply. “We take care of our own.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that you’d find Dean and make things right. But as you left Bobby’s office, the reality of the situation settled over you once more.

Dean was out there, a threat to everyone you cared about, and you had no idea where to start looking next. All you could do was keep searching, keep fighting, and hope that somehow, you’d find a way to bring him back before it was too late.

The night had settled into an eerie silence, the kind that left you hyper-aware of every creak and groan of your house. Your bedroom was dimly lit by the soft glow of the lamp on your bedside table, casting long shadows across the walls. You’d been sitting on the edge of your bed for what felt like hours, your mind spinning, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. The revelation that Dean was the mole had shattered something inside you, leaving you feeling lost and hollow. You’d tried to focus on finding him, on stopping him, but every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was his face—the smirk that used to make your heart race, now twisted into something dangerous, something you didn’t recognize.

You knew you should be doing something—anything—but instead, you sat there, paralyzed by the weight of it all. Your hands trembled slightly as you ran them through your hair, the stress of the past few days catching up with you. How had it come to this? Dean, of all people, betraying you, betraying Sam, betraying everything you thought he stood for. You wanted to hate him, but the truth was, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Despite everything, you missed him. You missed the way he used to look at you, the way he could make you feel safe and alive all at once. But now, all of that felt like a distant memory, tainted by the knowledge of what he’d done.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the door creak open. It wasn’t until you felt a presence in the room—familiar, yet unsettling—that you realized you weren’t alone. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you whipped around, eyes widening in disbelief as you saw him standing there, just inside the doorway.

“Dean…” The word came out as a whisper, a mix of shock and something else you couldn’t quite place.

He looked different. The Dean you knew was always intense, but this—this was something else. His green eyes were hard, almost cold, and there was a darkness in them that made your blood run cold. He was dressed in his usual jeans and leather jacket, but there was an edge to him now, a dangerous confidence that had always been there, but was now fully unleashed.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand up from the bed, though your legs felt like they might give out at any moment. “What are you doing here?” you demanded, your voice stronger than you felt. “How did you even get in?”

Dean just stared at you for a long moment, his gaze piercing, before he finally spoke. “You left the window unlocked.” His voice was low, rough, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. There was something different in his tone—an almost predatory calm that both terrified and thrilled you.

You took a step back, instinctively putting some distance between you. “You need to leave, Dean. Right now. You—” The words caught in your throat. “You shouldn’t be here.”

A slow, humorless smile spread across his face as he took a step forward, closing the gap you’d tried to create. “I shouldn’t be here?” he echoed, his voice dripping with irony. “I think you know that’s not gonna happen, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The term of endearment used to make you feel warm, cared for. Now, it felt like a weapon, a reminder of what he used to be and what he’d become. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Dean, please… We can talk about this, but not here. Not like this.”

His smile faltered slightly, a flash of something—anger? hurt?—flickering across his face before it was gone, replaced by that cold, hard mask. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said flatly. “You and Sam think you can just hunt me down, lock me up? You really think I’d let that happen?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the stark reality of what he was saying, what he was willing to do, finally sinking in. “I don’t want to lock you up,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I just want to understand why, Dean. Why are you doing this? Why did you betray us?”

For a moment, just a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of the old Dean, the man you loved, behind those cold eyes. But it was gone almost as soon as it appeared, replaced by something darker, more resolute.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” you shot back, your desperation starting to bleed through. “I deserve to know, Dean. After everything we’ve been through, I deserve to know why.”

He stared at you, his jaw clenched, and for a moment you thought he might actually tell you, that he might break down the wall he’d built around himself. But then his expression hardened, and he took another step toward you, close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Enough with the questions,” he growled, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re not here to understand. You’re here because you can’t stay away.”

The accusation stung because deep down, you knew there was some truth to it. Despite everything, despite knowing what he’d done, you couldn’t stop wanting him. It was like a sickness, an addiction you couldn’t shake.

“No,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “I’m here because I wanted to make you see reason. To remind you of who you are.”

Dean’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a grip that was firm but not painful. It was enough to make your heart race, enough to make you acutely aware of how close he was, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to.

“Who I am?” he echoed, his voice low and dangerous. “I know exactly who I am. And I think you do too.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “You can try to resist all you want, but we both know how this ends.”

You wanted to argue, wanted to push him away, but your body betrayed you. The feel of his breath against your skin, the heat of his body so close to yours, it was all too much. Despite everything, despite knowing that you should hate him, you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to him.

“Dean, please…” The words came out as a whisper, but you weren’t even sure what you were asking for. For him to stop? For him to keep going? You didn’t know anymore. All you knew was that you were lost, caught between wanting him and knowing you shouldn’t.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. His other hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gesture that was surprisingly tender, considering the darkness in his eyes. The touch made you shiver, your resolve crumbling even further.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of the man you used to know. “Why are you doing this?” you asked again, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Why, Dean?”

For a moment, just a moment, you thought you saw something break in his expression, something that looked like guilt or regret. But then it was gone, replaced by that same cold, steely resolve.

“Because this is who I am now,” he said, his voice rough, almost resigned. “And you’re either with me or against me.”

The words hit you like a blow, the finality of them making your heart ache. You wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to come back to you, but you knew it was useless. This was who he was now, and nothing you said would change that.

But even as you thought that, even as you felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him, from letting him pull you closer until your bodies were pressed together. The feel of him against you, the heat and strength of him, it was intoxicating, and you hated yourself for wanting it, for needing it.

“Dean…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He didn’t say anything, just tightened his grip on you, his hand sliding from your face down to your neck, his fingers curling around the back of your head as he tilted your face up to his. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, and despite everything, you wanted him to. You wanted to lose yourself in him, to forget everything for just a little while.

But instead, he just stared down at you, his gaze intense, almost searching. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

The words hung in the air between you, a lifeline you weren’t sure you were strong enough to take. You knew you should tell him to stop, that you should tell him to leave and never come back. But you couldn’t. The truth was, you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want him to leave. Despite everything, despite knowing that you should hate him, you still wanted him.

You didn’t say anything, and after a moment, Dean’s expression hardened. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, almost to himself.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle or tender like the kisses you used to share. This was different. This was rough, demanding, almost desperate. It was like he was trying to claim you, to remind you who was in control. And maybe that was what you needed—maybe that was why you didn’t push him away.

You kissed him back, your hands fisting in his jacket as you pulled him closer, giving in to the need that had been gnawing at you since the moment he walked into the room. It was wrong, you knew that, but in that moment, you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he made you feel, the way he could make you forget everything else.

Dean’s hands moved to your waist, his grip firm as he pushed you back toward the bed. You went willingly, your heart pounding in your chest as the back of your legs hit the mattress. He broke the kiss just long enough to push you down onto the bed, following you down, his body pressing you into the mattress as he claimed your lips again.

It was all happening so fast, and yet it felt like time had slowed down, every touch, every kiss searing itself into your memory. You knew this was a mistake, that you should stop him, but you couldn’t. You were too far gone, too lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. You’d been craving this, needing it, and now that it was happening, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it.

Dean’s hands were everywhere—on your waist, your hips, sliding under your shirt to touch your bare skin. You gasped at the feel of his rough hands against your skin, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. It was like you were on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

“Dean…” His name slipped from your lips, a plea, a confession. You didn’t even know what you were asking for anymore. All you knew was that you needed him, that you couldn’t let him go.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you tried to pull him closer, needing more, needing all of him. It was like a fever, a need so intense it consumed you, and you couldn’t think of anything else but him.

Dean’s hand slid up your thigh, pushing your shirt higher as he went. You gasped, your head falling back against the pillows as his lips found a sensitive spot on your neck, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. It was too much, and yet not enough. You needed more, and he knew it. He could sense it in the way you moved beneath him, in the way you clung to him.

“Is this what you want?” Dean’s voice was rough, almost mocking as he pulled back just enough to look down at you. His eyes were dark, filled with a dangerous intensity that both thrilled and terrified you.

You met his gaze, your breath coming in short gasps. You should say no. You should tell him to stop. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you found yourself nodding, your body betraying you once again.

A slow, almost triumphant smile spread across his face, and he leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. His hand slid higher, pushing your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. His lips followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of heat as he kissed his way down your chest, your stomach.

You were trembling now, your body alight with need and anticipation. Every touch, every kiss was like a brand, searing itself into your skin, your soul. You were losing yourself in him, in the feel of him, and you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to find your way back.

Dean’s hands were rough, his touch possessive as he moved over you, his lips finding every sensitive spot, his hands leaving marks that would bruise by morning. You gasped, moaned, begged for more, even as your mind screamed at you to stop, to remember who he was, what he’d done.

But it was too late. You were too far gone, too lost in the haze of desire and need. This was Dean, and despite everything, despite the betrayal, despite the lies, you couldn’t stop wanting him. You couldn’t stop loving him.

And so you gave in, letting him take you, letting him claim you, even though you knew it was wrong, even though you knew it would destroy you.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking harshly as he threw your legs over his shoulders, taking it between his teeth for a moment before tracing his name with his tongue. Dean’s fingers came in to break you further, delving into your soaked pussy as he lapped up everything you had to offer until his lips and chin were glistening, but didn’t stop even then.

You didn’t know how long it lasted—minutes, hours, it all blurred together in a haze of heat and need. All you knew was that when it was over, when the storm had passed, you were left trembling, broken, your heart shattered into a million pieces as you came hard and fast, not given time to think or speak.

Dean was still there, his weight heavy on top of you, his breath ragged against your neck when he quickly pounced back up, whipping off his jeans and boxers, his leather jacket and shirt and entering you with one quick snap of his hips. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, strong and steady, a reminder that this wasn’t a dream anymore, that this was real.

You didn’t want it to be real. He’d leave again.

But he removed that thought from your head, pinning your hands above your head, thrusting so hard you’d probably feel it for a week. “So good, baby girl.” Dean growled against your neck, chuckling. “So desperate for me to fuck you raw. I’ll explain everything, I promise.” You couldn’t think, speak, not when he was stripping you of everything in that moment.

Breaking you down and building you back up again as something broken - like him - until he came and you did too a few sloppy thrusts later, Dean’s hard, unrecognisable body collapsing on top of yours like it used to,

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the silence in the room deafening. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. All you could do was lie there, trying to catch your breath, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Finally, Dean pulled away, rolling off you and onto his back. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look at you. He just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his expression unreadable.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sight of him. He looked so different now, so distant. The man you loved was still there, somewhere beneath the surface, but he was buried deep, hidden behind layers of anger and pain.

“Dean…” You didn’t know what you were going to say, didn’t know if there was anything left to say. But before you could finish, he cut you off.

“Don’t.” His voice was rough, cold, and it made you flinch. “Just… don’t.”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, the finality of them making your chest tighten. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to explain. He didn’t want to be saved.

And that hurt more than anything.

The following morning, you arrived at the FBI headquarters with an uneasy sense of anticipation. The memory of Dean's sudden reappearance in your life, his rough demeanor, and the fraught, emotional aftermath of that encounter left you feeling on edge. Your nerves were still raw, and the uncertainty of the situation made every step feel heavy, every sound magnified.

You and Sam headed straight to Bobby Singer’s office, where you knew you would receive an update on the ongoing investigation. The sense of urgency was palpable, and Sam’s expression was set in determined lines as he opened the door to Bobby’s office.

Bobby was already there, sitting behind his desk with a stack of files neatly arranged before him. His face was etched with concern, and the usual warmth of his expression was tempered by the seriousness of the situation. As you and Sam entered, Bobby glanced up, his gaze sweeping over you with a hint of the resolve he always carried.

“Morning,” Bobby said, his voice carrying the weariness of long hours spent working on a high-stakes case. “I’ve called a meeting. We’re going to need to think outside the box on this one.”

You exchanged a quick look with Sam, both of you wondering what Bobby had in mind. The weight of Dean’s betrayal had pushed you to the edge, and it seemed like the solution would involve something unconventional.

Bobby stood up, his demeanor taking on a more theatrical edge. “We’ve got a team coming together, one that’s going to work outside of the usual Bureau protocols. You’ll see what I mean.”

With a wave of his hand, Bobby began the introductions. It felt like the opening scene of a high-stakes action movie, each name and face meant to signal something important. You stood there, watching and waiting, as Bobby began.

“First up,” Bobby said, his voice taking on a dramatic tone, “we’ve got someone who’s not just a tech genius but also a force to be reckoned with. She’s the one who can hack through the toughest security systems and has a knack for getting things done. Ladies and gentlemen, Charlie Bradbury.”

The door to Bobby’s office opened with a flourish, and in walked Charlie Bradbury. She was a petite woman with an energetic presence, her short red hair styled into a messy bob that seemed to fit her vibrant personality. Her attire was a bit unconventional for an FBI meeting—a graphic tee layered under a plaid shirt, and jeans with sneakers. She gave a quick wave and a bright smile, her enthusiasm evident as she took her place in the room.

“Next,” Bobby continued, “we have Garth Fitzgerald IV. He’s got the smarts, the charm, and a level of resourcefulness that’s hard to match. Garth, why don’t you come on in?”

The door opened again, and Garth Fitzgerald IV strolled in. Garth had an easygoing manner about him, his long brown hair pulled into a casual ponytail. He wore a casual blazer over a graphic tee, and his demeanor was relaxed, almost too relaxed for the gravity of the situation. His bright blue eyes twinkled with a mix of intelligence and mischief, making it clear he was someone who could be counted on in a pinch.

“Now for someone with a bit more of a no-nonsense attitude,” Bobby said. “John Winchester, a Navy SEAL and Bureau veteran. He’s seen it all and survived it all. Let’s see him now.”

John Winchester entered the room with a solid, no-nonsense presence. He was tall and muscular, his uniform impeccably pressed, his hair cut short and neatly styled. His eyes were sharp and alert, constantly scanning the room with a practiced gaze. His stance was rigid, and there was an intensity about him that spoke of years spent in high-stress situations. Despite the seriousness, there was a quiet respect in his posture, indicating that he was here to get results.

“Dad.” Sam said almost breathlessly, getting a curt nod from John.

“Son.” He replied quietly.

“Coming up next,” Bobby said, with a hint of pride, “Agent Jack Kline. Young, but don’t let that fool you. He’s driven, sharp, and has a personal stake in this mission.”

The door swung open to reveal Jack Kline. Jack was in his mid-twenties, his youthful face marked by a determination that belied his age. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, his dark hair slicked back with a bit too much gel. There was an earnestness about him, a fire in his eyes that suggested he was ready to prove himself. He gave a quick nod as he took his place, his posture straight and attentive.

“Rufus Turner is up next,” Bobby said, his voice carrying a note of familiarity. “He’s a personal friend of mine, a man who’s been around the block and knows his way through the worst of situations.”

Rufus Turner ambled in with a relaxed air. He was an older man with a grizzled beard and a weathered face that told tales of a long life lived on the edge. His attire was practical and comfortable—a flannel shirt over a t-shirt and worn jeans. Despite his casual look, there was an air of quiet competence about him. He moved with the ease of someone who knew exactly how to handle himself in any situation.

“And finally,” Bobby said, with a hint of ceremony, “we have MI6 agent Mick Davies. Don’t let his British charm fool you. He’s a seasoned operative with a knack for strategy and an uncanny ability to get results.”

Mick Davies walked in with a smooth confidence. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his British accent evident as he gave a polite nod to everyone in the room. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his demeanor was polished and controlled, suggesting a refined sense of discipline and professionalism. He glanced around the room with a keen eye, taking in the group with an air of detached interest.

“Why did that feel too much like a movie?” Sam pointed out, extremely confused.

“Get with the times, idjit.” Bobby replied with a grimace.

You, Sam, and Bobby walked down the corridor toward the large conference room where the newly assembled team, unofficially dubbed the “suicide squad” by Bobby, was set to have its first meeting. The mood was a mix of trepidation and reluctant optimism. Each step you took echoed with the weight of the task ahead. You glanced at Sam, who looked as tense as you felt. He caught your eye and offered a small, reassuring smile.

“Ready for this?” Sam asked, his voice carrying a note of humor despite the underlying seriousness.

You shrugged, trying to mask your nervousness with a grin. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Bobby led the way, his demeanor a blend of determined authority and barely concealed exasperation. “Let’s just hope this motley crew can get their act together. We need results, and we need them fast.”

As you entered the conference room, the scene that greeted you was anything but what you had expected. The room, designed for high-stakes meetings and serious discussions, was currently a battleground of personalities. Papers were scattered across the large table, coffee cups and half-eaten snacks littered the surface, and a low murmur of voices competed with the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional burst of laughter.

Charlie was already there, surrounded by a mountain of tech gadgets and open laptops. She was energetically typing away on her keyboard, her eyes darting from one screen to another with frenetic energy. “Just give me a sec, I’m almost through with this encryption!” she called out without looking up.

Garth was sprawled comfortably in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table. He was engrossed in a large comic book, occasionally glancing up with a mischievous grin. “Hey, what’s up? Got any cool new cases for us?” he asked cheerfully, waving his comic book around.

John, standing at the window, was peering out with a focused intensity. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his posture rigid. He barely acknowledged the newcomers, his attention fixed on something only he seemed to see. His frown deepened as he muttered, “We better make sure our perimeter is secure. Can’t be too careful.”

Agent Kline, with his loosely tailored suit and too-gelled hair, was seated at the far end of the table, his gaze darting nervously between his notes and the door. He looked as if he was bracing himself for an incoming storm. “Is this where the briefing starts?” he asked, his accent tinged with a hint of nervous politeness.

Rufus Turner, the weathered veteran, was sitting back in his chair with a cup of coffee in hand. He was wearing a bemused expression as he watched the chaos unfold. “Well, ain’t this a sight,” he said, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee. “Looks like we got ourselves a real circus here.”

Mick was the last to arrive, his sharp suit and neatly combed hair making him stand out even more in the already chaotic room. He entered with a smooth, confident stride, giving everyone a polite nod before taking a seat. “Morning, everyone. I trust we’re all ready to tackle the matter at hand?” he said, his British accent crisp and precise.

Bobby took a deep breath, his face a mask of restrained frustration. “Alright, everyone, let’s get this show on the road. We have a lot to cover, and we need to get organized.”

Charlie, still engrossed in her work, muttered, “Just a minute, Bobby. I’m almost through with decrypting this file. We’re going to need it.”

Garth looked up from his comic book with a raised eyebrow. “Decrypting? Sounds like a real party. How about we get some snacks and make this meeting more fun?”

John, still fixated on the window, grunted in agreement. “We don’t have time for snacks. We need to focus.”

Jack shifted in his seat, trying to catch Bobby’s attention. “Director Singer, if we could have a clear agenda, it might help streamline things.”

Rufus snorted into his coffee. “Streamline things? We haven’t even started, and it’s already a mess.”

Mick, attempting to bring some semblance of order, cleared his throat. “Perhaps a more structured approach would be beneficial. Let’s lay out our objectives clearly.”

Bobby’s patience was visibly wearing thin. He tapped the table with his knuckles, trying to regain control of the meeting. “Alright, everyone, listen up. We’ve got a lot of talent in this room, but we need to focus. The situation is critical, and we can’t afford any more delays. We need to find Dean and resolve this crisis.”

Charlie finally looked up from her screens, her face alight with excitement. “Got it! I’ve got some preliminary data here. We can start by narrowing down his recent contacts.”

Garth folded his comic book with a flourish and sat up straight. “Alright, let’s get to it then. I’m ready for action.”

John let out a huff and moved away from the window. “Fine, but we better not waste time. We need to be meticulous.”

Jack adjusted his suit and glanced at his notes. “I’ll handle the documentation and ensure everything is properly logged. Efficiency is key.”

Rufus shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and skepticism. “Well, this oughta be interesting.”

Mick straightened in his chair, his demeanor all business. “Let’s proceed with a detailed strategy. We need to ensure that all angles are covered.”

As the team began to settle into their roles, the chaos seemed to simmer down a bit, replaced by a more focused, if still somewhat disorganized, energy. You and Sam exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the irony of the situation. The team was indeed a collection of diverse and conflicting personalities, but maybe, just maybe, that was what would make them effective.

Sam leaned closer and whispered, “Do you think this is going to work?”

You shrugged, a wry smile playing on your lips. “They said so much nonsense in five minutes that I’m not quite sure.”

Like, comment or reblog! I’d love to hear your feedback. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

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[mono-dot-jpeg]

tank moment - mauga

summary; title slightly irrelevant, i wanted to be funny. iykyk

genre/extra tags; headcanons/bullet fic, i talk about mauga hcs i thought of on the fly, reader is implied to be a support character, reader is also part of talon group, fluff, i only know the bare minimum about him and that's all i need baby, is this platonic or romantic idk

[gender neutral reader] [canon typical violence mentioned]

a/n; im back on my overwatch era. it never really ended but, i want to write about him, mauga, the beloved. typing this on my phone and finishing on my computer if anything seems wonky shhh dont tell me i'll relive that mistake for days

also this is a somewhat lightly reseached- aka not fully accurate/detailed work. i briefly mention samoan culture and if it offends or if it's a mistake, please tell me and i will erase those parts asap.

[support me and buy a kofi]

🗣 ALRIGHT SO ‼️

i've been watching and playing with/against mauga since the trial to play him came out and god i love him

but he's kind of easy to counter (im an ana main, nade is fucking broken but that's just anti heal things) and his ult is annoying

anyways

every tank needs their heal bot to keep em up

you just happen to be mauga's heal bot KDJSJSJ

(baptiste is too probably but not really)

he's a really smug guy

no one really knows that bc he sounds so upbeat and nice

but he loves to tease you, poke at you bc he knows that you will answer to him most of the time and entertain him in conversation

you and him are probably in your world even when you're both in talon tbh

he does his own thing and you just happen to join in

(he totally baits you to join his plans and you both know it)

he's a chaotic and cunning man and you're his enabler

(sounds like me and my bestie tbh)

"a hero would sacrifice you to save the world but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you" type beat

he's lowkey possessive but we dont talk about that

jk we do talk abt it

he's your scary guard dog privileges

like that man is tall tall ‼️‼️

idk why but i dont really imagine him being like an openly sweet person

he keeps it private even with how loud he is

anyways

you know how he's on a yacht for his origin story and there's like a bunch of people who got destroyed by him?

yeah he would totally do that shit for u if you asked.

he would give you the best home but

"thanks for the new place and all but did you have to kill someone for it?"

"i mean come on! this place is nice! let's enjoy it!"

he's very "i'll do the dirty work, just sit back and look pretty." and then you're like, "yeah i could. but i won't."

dps support vibes for you ✨️

but also he's charging in most of the time so, there's not much time to dps support KDHDJDJJD

he's like the kool aid man bursting in through the walls /j

cough

back to the hcs here...

he's so tall and big, he would totally let you hang off his back like nunu and wilump (from league, yeah i play league dont remind me totally gonna write for heartsteel soon tm)

also he's literally the greatest heated blanket (ahead of roadhog)

he's so stronk and wowowowow im so gay i love him

when you're surrounded by some enemies, he's charging in, slamming the ground and carrying you with ease as he keeps you safe while destroying any enemies who even tried to touch you

ugh

despite his lack of pda, he's a very actions over words.

he's so silly

chivalry isn't dead when he breaks into a jewelry store for u 😍😍

if you ever have those crazy thoughts about crime, he's totally gonna enable you and let you reign havoc on god knows what.

love language is actions and gift giving. enough said.

when he gives you a hug, he's so fucking warm omg

i said it before and i'll say it again, he's the best heated blanket, literal furnace

bad for the people who sweat easily though (ahem me lowkey)

one the off-days where it's just a day off and relaxing, he's taking care of you well !!

when you're on talon missions, since he can't run around as easily unless he gets the okay but you do keep him company until then

he likes to protect but he loves destroying people

he knows you're able to care for yourself, so he can go crazy whenever, and he loves that.

he also loves watching you get mad or angrily passionate

"yes go, la'u ma’asoama!" (my rock/stone, get it? bc his name means mountain)

he is a really good hype man. even if you're the one in the wrong.

god I WISH I LOOKED UP MORE ABOUT HIM ARGBHYKFJ

soon (tm)

someday i'll write more.

[brain-usurped-by-bug]

My Curated Turbo/King Candy playlist!

These 22 23 songs were selected for their lyrical connection first and vibes second, although the playlist mostly consists of rock and electronic music. I have arranged the playlist roughly in narrative order for maximum vibes.

Tracklist (as of Sept 14, 2024), along with choice lyrics and overly deep explanations on why these songs fit.

"The End" - My Chemical Romance. Serves as an introduction to the playlist, and a warning of the downfall that is to come. "Save me! Save me! You Can't! Take me!"

"The Main Character" - Will Wood. A sharp transition away from the introduction, taking you back to a happier time. Despite the bright tone, the lyrics introduce a self centered character who feels he deserves love and attention. "I'm the main character, and you have to like me."

"I'm Gonna Win" - Rob Cantor. A Rock music. The lyrics speak of winning at all costs and a refusal to give up. "I'll never loose, I'll never die. You've seen me before, you'll see me again."

"Kickstart My Heart" - Motley Crue. Energetic rock music, representing confidence and the excitement of a race.

"Freak of the Week" - Freak Kitchen. Harsher rock music, the lyrics speak of a willingness to do anything for attention, including self mutilation. "Like me, like me, won't you like me?"

"Final Transmision" - The Living Tombstone. Electronic music, and the transition into the road blasters era. "Pushing off the payload, no cable to rewind him." "Eyelids getting heavy, sleep it off now kid, everyone knows now exactly what you did."

"Bloodstains" - Agent Orange. Angry rock, falling into mental illness. Considering homicide as a solution to his problems. "Ah things seems so much different now, the scene has died away. I haven't got a steady job, and I've got no place to stay."

"Alien Blues" - Vundabar. More mental illness rock. Disillusioned and disconnected to the people around him, popularity fading. "My teeth are yellow, hello world. Would you like me a little better if they were white like yours?"

"Cowboy Dan" - Modest Mouse. Sad cowboy rock, shortly before the road blasters incident. He is angry and dissatisfied with is place in life. he is a major player in his scene, but he wants more, he wants war. He hates how things have changed. he wants out. "He hops in his pickup, puts the pedal to the floor, and says, 'I got mine, but I want more'." "Can't do it, not even if sober, can't get that engine turned over."

"Toba the Tura" - Forgive Durden. Post-Roadblasters regret. lots of great lyrics here. "I watched the lamps fall, You pushed them over. They say you're gifted, Well I just see a scared kid." "The raw scorched Earth, It's a trophy of your worth." "Your cold wicked soul boasts a foul scent." "This mess that you made, it's a six-foot grave, It's a home for your lonesome bones that remain. We'll disappear you'll stay here, To rot as the king of the dark and forgot." "(Oh what have you done, disobedient son) What have I become? (You've broken the trust) Destroyed all I loved."

"My Crt" - Dream Puzzles. Moody electronic music about being hunted by a yellow eyed man inside a computer. Is he haunting himself, or is it an external force?

"Awoken" - Wooden Toster. He lives in pain and regret, but he has awoken from the monotony and is prepared to make a change. "Pushed by desire to change the way my stream will frow. now I've awoken and I'm taking back control."

"Sirens" - Bear Ghost. A drift into headcanon territory. He he's sick of hiding, so he goes out to have fun and let off steam, but he's terrified of being caught, and nearly is.

"A Mask of My Own Face" - Lemon Demon. A turn to the playful and sinister. A mask is put on, he goes around in disguise, and is proud of himself. "I'd wear it on Thanksgiving and I'd laugh in the parade at all the people hissing, knowing I'm the one they hate."

"Cabinet Man" - Lemon Demon. THE Turbo song. He reflects on his past and decides to take over Sugar Rush. Perfect vibes, to many fitting lyrics to list. Someone sinister is lurking in a game cabinet, assumed dead, existing unseen, unbeatable, breaking in. Half Human and Half Machine.

"My Ordinary Life" - The Living Tombstone. He's a king on top of the world, surrounded by admirers. He's on a high. He loves the glitz and glamour, but it's all a farse. "People blend together but I would be lost without their love. Can you heal me have I gained too much?" "Is there a real me? Pop the camphane."

"Ruler of Everything" - Tally Hall. He is playfully in control of everything, but his inner darkness still lurks. "Your facade is a scam, you know you're making me cry this is the way that I am. I've been living a lie, a metamorphical scheme."

"Dear Dictator" - Saint Motell. A return to rock music. The point of no return has long been passed. Judgment is on the horizon. "Nobody has ever seen his face, but fear his smile." "And at the trial they'll be no jury, and all the dead are gonna play witness. It's not too late to say you're sorry, but it's to late to truly mean it."

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" - Set it Off. A return to rage. He's lying and hurting people to keep his position. "So, tell me how you're sleeping easy, how you're only thinking of yourself. Show me how you justify, telling all your lies like second nature."

"House of Wolves" - My Chemical Romance. He knows he faces eternal damnation, but it's way too late to turn back, so instead he embraces it. "Take this to my grave." "Tell me I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad man."

"Unconditional Love" - Against Me!. Cybug Transformation. He is doomed, and not even unconditional love can save him now. "Half digested and eternal, somewhere lost in the ephemeral."

"Dead!" - My Chemical Romance. Death. “Did you get what you deserve? The ending of your life." "Have you head the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say, I think they never liked you anyway."

.

"Puzzle Pieces" - Saint Motell. Bonus track! y/n sings about how Turbo/King Candy has designed himself, and is made up of all these pieces that don't fit together. "I can hardly move, I can barely breath, near your features."

[itsgirlcraft]

Welcome to the masterpost of all [256] of my FavreMySabre AUs/OCs/concepts :]

Feel free to ask questions or just give me a number between 1 and [256]! Or directly ask CWK!Sabre or MCRP!Time for what something means, navigation (i.e., genres, specific characters), or just questions on the multiverse these all belong to!

264 AUs. 256 AUs w/o dsmp, 186 w/o dreams (or dsmp). 8 dsmp-exclusive AUs were included here, I apologize.

Edit: at the bottom of the main list ID, will be a "changelog," where I put additional AUs that I didn't have in the og list. Once a page has been filled, there will be a new picture of it and a proper ID like the original pages.

That way, nothing gets confused. Also, the AU number will change as needed. AU names will most likely stay the same, and if they do change, I will include the og in the changelog.

Under the cut is the digitalized list/"ID"!

I got this done sooner than I thought tbh. Had to go thru my old tablet, my art binders, and all my notes on my phone. Worth it, this is SO USEFUL, my god!

FavreMySabre AUs/OCs List

drm = dream, OC = original character.

2019 era = 2019 and 2020, 2021 era =2021 and 2022, 2023 era = 2023 and 2024.

Oldest AUs (Wattpad, tablet, 2019 era) 62 AUs

•On The Run •Lost In A Fairytale •The Black Hole •Wings And Horns •Ore Steves (OCs) •Call Of The Void •Infected •The Nether Prince •Halloween With The Steves •Steve Saga High •I Don't Know How To Rule! •Future Legends •Altered Realities •Power Switch •Underwater • Not You. Anyone But You. •Why?! •Black Hole Steve (OC) •Family Secret •Undead Me •Fairies •Mirror World •Metal/Magnet (ocs) •The Cursed •Chicken Dad •Containment Breach・Wolf Boy •Vampocalypse •The Night Shift •Covid-19 •Broken Reality •Seven Square Chickens. One Adult. •Demons In My Head •Reverse Evil •Anti-Brine •Genderbent Royalty •Error 404: Steve Not Found (oc/drm) •Chemical AU/2.0 •Confusion •Gender Swap •Earth Portal •Rainbow City •A Glitch In The Matrix •SCP AU •Lost And Broken Soul/Cursed With knowledge •Wisps •Did We Meet Before •Darkest Quest For Peace •Learning The Ways Of The Multiverse •Trapped Crossover •When Three Worlds Meet •The Olympian Saga • Dragon (oc) •Dream SMP Meets Steve Saga:Therapy Edition •Moth (oc) •The Haunting Saga •OG Body Horror AU •Different Artstyle •That One Trapped/Steve Saga Crossover •Storm Steve (oc) •The Weirdest Adventure •Failed_Rainbow_Steve (oc)

Old AUs (2021 era) 48 AUs w/o DSMP

DSMP: •Minepocalypse •The Shapeshifters •The Meet-Up •The Streamers/Hunt •Guardian Of The Forest •The Game (drm) •Trapped In Minecraft But We're Stuck Together •The Monsters In The Cages Look A Lot Like Me

•The Obligatory Reversed Role AU But Optimistic (Steve Saga Roleswap) •DSMP/SS Oneshot •Squinkies Are Taking Over My Life •Time Travel AUs •Fantasy AU ft. Chicken And Horse •Hybrid Boys •A Dance With A Devil •That *One* Prophecy •Fading Humanity •Creatures In The Woods •Experiment Shadow •A Human In A Supernatural World •RQ ODAA •One Disaster After Another • Universe fusions (ocs) •Discolored And Disoriented •Language Barrier •BodySwap •Elements Of Family Magic •The Creation God's Puppets •Crash-Landing Aliens AU •RQ: Security Breach •Follow Me/Robot Soul •Uno Reverse, Fate! •Weapon AU •IRL Twisted Rainbow •Robots, Hybrids, And Experimental Friendships •Seldistynell (OC) •My Life As A Feathered Monster Hiding At A Human College •The Aliens Inside My Computer •The Five Elements •Monster Under Your Bed/Rescue Mission •Lab Monsters •Little Nightmares Crossovers •Monster House In Zombie Land •A Colorful World •Human Machine •Taking It Literally •Digital Magic •FRS' Childhood (oc) • Ancient Aliens • Demon AU •Anime AU • Nightmare Princess •A Rainbow Of Identities

Newer AUS (2023 era) 75 AUs

•Dark Matter/Wilted Lily/Ultra Chaos/ Corruption (ocs) •RQ Plague •Cave Monsters •SSO Color kids (ocs) •SHSF No Evil •The Owl House Crossover •SlenderSabre •Reverse Quest (Rainbow Quest Roleswap) •Wise Anger (ocs) •Blindfold-centric AU Collection •Blindfold Of Skin •Gacha DJ •RQ/TR MLP Crossovers • Naga!Plague •NPCs/Thing (drm) •SS Bodyswap AU •ColorSwap Horrors •TR Roleswap •SL Roleswap •Desk Dolls •AGITM x Trapped •TR Weirdcore •Become Food •ZWV Hybrid (drm) •Half-Fused TR •RealityElan •MCRP •"B" The Elf-Eared (oc/drm) • Jellyfish!Twisted •Human!Galaxy (drm) •Halloween TR •Alien!Sabre •Vent AU •Crystal Swap •Gacha Weirdcore •SBI x dragon!Sabre •WTWM Bad End •Catboy!Sabre •Color Change!Reverse •TFC!Elan •SkeleModern (drm) • Urban Legends •WTF!Sabre •Migraine AU •Dot Eyes •Haunted Dolls •Relationship Problems •Uncanny Alien •Planetheads •Potato/Carrot (ocs) •AR x RQ •Changing With My Imagination •Center Of The Freakshow •Eldritch POVs • RQ x SL •Happy Place Hub •TR x Nimona •One Last Chance Before Our Demise •Warforged •Hello Puppets •Reformed Villains •Imprisoning Infection •Apocalypse Survivors •Sky Voices •TR Elite's Return •RQ Roleswap x TR •Star-Rats •Diamond Mafia •God Application •Earthly War Crimes (ocs) •Would You Love Me If I Was A Worm (drm) •FMS x DSMP •Alien Or Human? (drm) • Shadow Child (drm) •An Angel's Death Wish (drm)

Dream-Based AUs/Concepts (76 AUs)

•Generic Simpsons Crossover •Medieval Simpsons Gore •Steve Summer Camp •Desert House •Me/Sabre As Mike Afton •Gx/Vd IRL •Flooded World •SS!NM/TFTSMP!Karl •SS/RQ Monster AU •How Isn't This A Nightmare •Twisted Parkour •New Steves ft. Ranboo (ocs) •Girl Posse VS. Steves •Branch Legs •Lava Rainbow •Music Video ft. Grandmas •The Red Eyes (ocs) •RQ x OSMP Ft. Various Demon Cats • Shapeshifting Imagination •Fix Before • Abandoned Mall •Guardian Is Ripped AF •The Dead Kings •Dungeon Crawler •Ruined City ft. SBI •Girl Fight ft. Eldritch Abomination (oc) •Weird Alien Carrot •I'm Colle •Dolls w/ Reds •Befriend VR Sabre •Interview Show •Crafting Dead •TR Planet •Sideways Void •Trapped Sequel •Become Dragon •Failed 7 Colors •Contact Via MP3 Player •Tricolor Jester/Apocalypse (oc) •LOTB Chicken •Steves At Mall •Haunted Mushrooms •WTF Emily (oc) •Prof. Red In Costco •Companion Adventure • Camping Race •Board Game •Psychiatrist/Colle's Ghost •Pathetic Baby Bord •Figurines/Power Levels •Cosplay/Basketball •Fruits •Camping w/ Origin •Dystopia Costco •TR Elite IRL• Rock Concert •Deku Floating Gloves •Dark Sun •I'm TR Assistant •Steve Comm Post (Normal) •Necromancer/Kirishima •Unrecognizable •Cashiers •Bad Intentions •Catnap/ATLA/SpongeBob •MLP/Jesus/OCs •Whirlpool Facecam •Barbie Dolls •Bedroom Balancer (oc) •Sps Sabre Sci-Fi Movie •Fake Blue On Earth •Gen Loss Implied •Genderswamp (oc) •Steven Universe/MHA/Steves At ComicCon •Seer/Colle/SS Galaxy Classmates •Steve Saga Mobile Game

Changelog 10/7/24:

<Added 3 AUs> •Apocalypse Alien (drm) •Time and Elemental's Adventure (drm) •Keep The Memories Alive (ocs)

<Changed 2 AU names> Cryptid Sabre->Cave Monsters, Tired Eyes->Blindfold-centric AU Collection.

[warsamongthestars]

MORE TBB + CT HCS!

Since I didn't chase anyone off the first time, how bout some more? This round isn't nearly a storied as last round.

THE BAD BATCH did not grow up with each other. I know, counter to a lot of HCs. Each BB had a batchsquad that they were given back to (with flagged profiles about being apart of the 99 project--DO NOT DECOMMISSION), and thus, had an original regular clone trooper batch-squad at one point. This is where they got their names and social experience. WRECKER was a apart of KILO SQUAD. His Batchmates, were Chopper (who was later assigned under Sergeant Slick; TCWs), Boomer (Also known as Clone-Sergeant 2207; 501st; TCWs), Basher (the only CT out of the unit to make it into the Empire Era; SW Detours), and Hardcase (who lost his life during the Umbara Campaign; TCWs). Kilo squad were known to be happy-go-lucky destroyers of the training rooms. HUNTER was a part of ETA SQUAD. Three confirmed members of ETA Squad were, Tracker (212th; apart of the Dark Disciple series), Trapper (212th, formerly 91st--saw the battle of Ryloth, and the Zilo Beast incident; TCWs), and Hound (Coruscant Guard, Mastif Handler; TCWs) CROSSHAIR was apart of OMICRON SQUAD. With Hawkeye (91st, died during the Zilo Beast incident; TCWs), Longshot (212th, died during the Lola Sayu Mission; TCWs), Scope (104th; SW:CWA) and Sinker, of the 104th Wolfpack. TECH was apart of a soft-shell tech squad, with two confirmed members--Switch (CP-6824; SW:CW:RH) and Chatter (501st; radiotech).

Unfortunately, thanks to an incident that occurred to CT-9905 (a 99 projector (and original character)), Four of the Six / Seven of the 99-Project clones were finally gathered to be a team. ( CT-9905's fate is unknown. ) ( CT-9902 would be regulated as a Kaminonian Assistant. ) ( CC-9900, the "proof of concept" 99er, whose regeneration abilities served as the genetic-patch to prevent further clones from over-aging in their growth tubes--was already apart of the Republic Commando training, and would not be joining any other 99er. ) The original squads would be broken up and either sent out alone to other legions, or would be assigned to different squads.

HUNTER'S ELECTROMAGNETIC SENSES allows him to know when something has a static charge. So rub against a carpet, and he'll just know you have the charge. He describes it as if the feel of the air became spicy. Basically, he's a living voltage detector. Could probably tell you when your battery is dead.

WRECKER'S BONES are unbreakable. This isn't actually a form of mutation, but a form of later-life augmentation. That same later life augmentation staved his life when a bomb or charge went off near his face, and instead of pulverizing his skull (and thus his brain), it only pulverized the closest soft tissues--like his eye and inner ear.

WRECKER'S ENHANCEMENT allows him to have flexible muscle mass; allowing him to pick up and move objects without prep work, and to with stand any aftermath soreness. Thanks to the later-life augmentation, he has the strongest back in human existence. Unfortunately, a side effect of this is weaker organs, and a weaker heart. His enormous muscle growth has resulted in at least one near full organic transplantation, due to the muscle growing too fast for the organs to keep up. The abnormal strength of the muscle, thanks to be spliced with other-than-human genetics, is also what required the later-life bone augmentation, or risk his very muscles crushing his bones by movement alone.

Wrecker does not remember much of his childhood, due to the sheer growth pains from his enhancements.

TECH suffers from severe nearsightedness, and its been suggested, that as he's been spliced with Kamoninan genetics in order to ensure a "computational brain", that his eyes are more suited to underwater environments. Funnily enough, he does actually see in the water better. Not great, but better.

TECH, having been spliced with Kamoninan Genetics (whom are primarily amphibious), did have a vestigial-tadpole tail in his infancy. It went away as he got older... but he does occasionally have " Nonexistent-tail wiggles" when particularly excited, as a left over response--he finds them quite unprofessional and embaressing, but sometimes, one just gots to wiggle in place to get all that energy out.

Thanks to the Genetic splicing, Crosshair was actually born blind, with his eyelids semi-permanently shut (Not unlike a baby bird). They would open over the course of his first month; but this shows that not only does he have powerful eyes--he has powerful eyelids to compensate for those eyes. Its theorized that, if he had normal human eyelids, he would've seen through them.

The AlphaGens, or the famous 100, were the first clones in existence. They were the proof of concept, the Sparten-2's to the regular clones' Sparten-3, with minor enhancements and power armor--but also with the first severe issues that would come along during the Kaminonian's cloning. 99 was the final "successful" AlphaGen, whose gene-glitch aged him drastically in his growth tude, and whose problem would later be "patched out" with later clones, with the 99 project. ( Most Gene-patch projects were usually named after an AlphaGen's number; for example, there was the failed 17-Project, which attempted to gene-patch out premature white hair--did so with no success, and actually introduced Auburn and Blond Hair into clone troopers, as well as the additional problem of premature balding. ) ( Or the gene-patch project, 24-Project, that attempted to patch out Blue eyes--which catastrophically failed and resulted in blindness. ) 99 Himself, who was aware of the project being based from him, kept an eye out for all the "99ers", in what little ways he could. It is a well known AlphaGen trait, after all, to adopt BetaGen or Regular Clone Troopers. For example; for a young Wrecker, with uncontrollable strength, and great terrible growth pains, he left a small "tooka" doll made from baby cloths and what little fluff he could find. 99 would not officially meet a 99 Team, until after the loss of 9905.

99 himself, as the AlphaGen of Maintenance, knew of the secret places undernearth the Kaminonian Cities. He often worked around where CT-9902 did And he knew of the canceled OmegaGen clones project.

THE OMEGA GENERATION Cloned from a different prime, Arla Fett, the OmegaGen project was an attempt to create force-sensitive clones through "natural incubation" in order to "garden" the growth of midi-chlorians in a clone. Only two surviving clones were the result of the OmegaGen project--Omega-01, who was born via designated incubator (Heavily implied to have been the OmegaGen Prime), and Omega-02, who was the result of the Kaminonian typical method of cloning... and deemed a failure due to lack of midi-chlorian count. The project was deemed a success--but the expense and the time taken to make OmegaGen clones was deemed unacceptable, and the project was canceled after the first successes.

[stephensmithuk]

The Hound of the Baskervilles: Three Broken Threads

Hat tip to @myemuisemo for another excellent post that covers much of what I was planning together:

Data protection was not really a thing back in 1889. However, paper hotel registers would be something filled in by the front desk staff, not the guest. They would contain details of extra charges incurred as well, all stuff generally done by computer, but you can still buy paper copies today. Particularly for the Indian market, where less than half the population have Internet access. These registers are generally mandatory and in some countries, the data will still be passed to the police when it concerns newly arrived foreigners. That's why they ask for your passport.

Newcastle upon Tyne, the one people generally talk about as opposed to Newcastle-under-Lyme in Staffordshire, was at the centre of a major coal mining area in North-East England, the Durham and Northumberland coalfields being in close proximity. The industry was still employing children - boys as young as 12 could work in mines - and was still a pretty dangerous, not to mention unhealthy industry.

The British economy was heavily reliant on coal, especially the newly built electric power stations. While the railways had a big coal trade for internal transport for domestic purposes, boats also played a big role, either going via canal or down the East Coast of Great Britain to the London Docks. This route would become vulnerable to German attack in the World Wars, particularly in the second war from fast torpedo boats known to the British as "E-boats"; the East Coast convoys are a lesser-known part of the naval war, with Patrick Troughton having served with Coastal Force Command.

The Mayor of Gloucester, like most civic mayors in England, is the chair of the council, elected to a one-year term by their fellow councillors. The current holder is Conservative councillor Lorraine Campbell. It's a mostly ceremonial role involving going to various events while wearing a red cloak and a big hat:

Gloucester's Deputy Mayor is called the Sheriff of Gloucester. There is still a Sheriff of Nottingham, by the way.

The Anglophone Canadian accent was historically noticeably different to an American one and of course had its own varieties. They've gotten closer over the decades, especially due to television.

Sir Henry would have limited luggage space on the ship over, so three pairs of boots would be reasonable. He'd have to ship over anything else at further cost, so it could be cheaper to buy new in London.

Deliveries of telegrams that weren't in the immediate area of the office cost extra. Bradshaw's Guide for Tourists in Great Britain and Ireland would state the nearest telegraph office for a town, as the 1866 edition demonstrates:

Sir Charles' estate was worth around £80m in today's money, but that would not even get him onto The Sunday Times Rich List, which starts at £350m (Sir Lewis Hamilton, i.e. the F1 driver). It tops out with Gopichand Hinduja and his family at an estimated £37.2 billion, whose conglomerate is many focussed on India, but also are the biggest shareholders in US chemical company Quaker Houghton.

Westmoreland was a historical county in Northern England; it was absorbed into Cumbria in 1974, but its area became part of the Westmoreland and Furness unitary authority in 2023.

"Entailed" means that Sir Charles has stipulated in a legal document that the Baskerville estate would have to pass to Sir Henry's heir intact. This was a feudal era practice that has now been abolished in most jurisdictions, with limited remaining use in England and Wales. Simply put Sir Henry is not allowed to sell the house or the land, even part of it. He can do what he likes with the cash and probably the chattels, the movable property like the candlesticks and the toasting forks.

This page covers it in relation to the works of Jane Austen with relevant spoilers:

Borough is another name for the area of Southwark. It got a Tube station in 1890, when the City and South London Railway opened, now the Bank branch of the Northern line. It also is famous for Borough Market, then a wholesale food market under cover of buildings from the 1850s. Today it is a retail market for specialty food; kind of like a farmers' market.

In 1888, the 10:30 from Paddington would get to Exeter at 15:35, a journey of five hours. @myemuisemo provides route maps. I would add at this point, GWR services to SW England went via Bristol, adding a lot of time to the journey, while the LSWR route from Waterloo was a lot more direct. Wags dubbed the former "the Great Way Round". The construction of two cut-off lines allowed the GWR to go via Westbury and Castle Cary.

I will cover the modern day condition of the route in my Chapter 6 post.

The GWR still had some broad-gauge track at 2,140 mm(7 ft 1⁄4 in) left that Brunel had favoured, but this would be finally eliminated in 1892.

Finally, Holmes is referencing the sport of fencing when he learns the cabbie has been given his name. The foil is the lightest of the three swords used in competitive fencing, such as the Olympics.

In an age before electronic fencing equipment, point scoring relied on the eyesight of the umpire... and the honesty of the competitions.

I was in my fencing club at university. I can't say I was that great. I preferred the epee, which doesn't have the priority rules...

[mariacallous]

“Americans, your calls and texts can be monitored by Chinese spies,” a Washington Post opinion piece recently headlined. China has “growing cyber-sophistication and relentless ambition to undermine U.S. infrastructure” another Post article reported. Some analyses trace the recent exploitation to a telecommunications network backdoor created early in the era of digital networks to allow for court-authorized wiretaps.

When the digital wiretap law was passed in 1994, no one foresaw the kind of sophisticated intrusions apparently developed by the Chinese. It is an experience that we must remember as the design of digital network technology continues to evolve. 

I helped negotiate the 1994 Communications Assistance for Law Enforcement Act (CALEA) that, some fear, created the exploitable access for Chinese spies. The concern at the time was that the evolution from analog to digital telecommunications was hindering law enforcement. “Some of the problems encountered by law enforcement relate to the explosive growth of cellular and other wireless services,” the House committee report explained. “[T]he increasing amount of transactional data generated by the millions of users of on-line services” was an accompanying problem. Written 30 years ago, it is a description of today’s communications environment, in which wireless networks deliver online digital information.

At the time, I was the CEO of the Cellular Telecommunications and Internet Association (CTIA), the wireless industry’s trade association. Along with wired communications providers, our members were concerned about the way the FBI was proposing to monitor communications across the new digital technology. After detailed and lengthy negotiations, industry and law enforcement mutually agreed to a result that addressed the FBI’s concerns about access to the new technology, while also addressing industry concerns.

On August 11, 1994, I sat next to FBI Director Louis Freeh before a joint House and Senate hearing to announce that we had reached an agreement on the CALEA legislation and to urge its passage. That what we jointly endorsed that day could, decades later, be potentially hackable by Chinese spies was not part of that discussion.

Today—30 years after CALEA—a new digital wireless technology promoted by both the industry and government is raising new cyber risks. Called Open Radio Access Network (O-RAN), it is a new technical standard that seeks to copy for telecommunications infrastructure the scale and savings enjoyed by the computer industry’s interoperability of different pieces of network equipment from different vendors. In O-RAN, the network functions once performed by purpose-built hardware are instead virtualized in software. Based on input from the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and Department of Commerce, the software is broken into multiple layers, thus expanding the number of vendors.

The O-RAN concept is an important step forward that will deliver increased capabilities at decreased costs. Accompanying these advantages, however, is the challenge to mitigate the increased risk of cyberattacks resulting from software that relies in part on open-source code running on commodity hardware. 

Earlier networks ran on proprietary equipment utilizing proprietary software that offered focused protection against attacks. Moving more functions to hackable software that is disaggregated from a purpose-built network appliance creates new pathways to attack these new networks.

Another attractive aspect of O-RAN is how the shift to virtualize hardware breaks the chokehold of the traditional suppliers of network equipment. This advantages cybersecurity because it creates alternatives to Chinese hardware manufacturers, such as Huawei. Yet, this too comes with the countervailing paradox that such supplier diversity represents another increase in the number of attack trajectories in the networks.  

As the European Union’s Report on the Cybersecurity of Open Radio Access Networks concluded, while there are security benefits to the diversification of suppliers, “by introducing a new approach, new interfaces and new types of RAN components potentially coming from multiple suppliers, Open RAN would exacerbate a number of the security risks of 5G networks and expand the attack surface.”

Network operators and law enforcement were reportedly blindsided by the ability of Chinese hackers to create advanced persistent threats (APTs) to exploit CALEA. This experience, however, is but the most current of many warnings that the networks on which our nation relies are vulnerable. Whatever the outcome of the ongoing investigation, the latest exploitation should send a message that we need cybersecurity as a forethought, rather than an afterthought, in the design of digital networks, accompanied by ongoing oversight of network security.

Looking back to go forward

Twenty years after CALEA passed, I was chairman of the FCC, the agency responsible for America’s networks. As chairman, I tried to work with network providers to develop cybersecurity standards that were flexible enough to evolve with the technology and the ever-evolving attack techniques of those seeking to exploit the networks. The irrefutable fact is that every single one of the cyberattacks that affect our nation traverse, at one point or another in their transmission, a private network regulated by the FCC.

What we proposed in 2014 was that the companies implement and report on their adherence to the National Institute of Standards and Technology’s (NIST) Cybersecurity Framework. The NIST Framework is a collection of best-practice internal controls developed collaboratively with industry that is continually evolving to help companies protect against cyberattacks. Along with implementing the voluntary NIST Framework, we asked the industry to identify where they set their objective cyber-risk threshold, their progress toward implementation of the Framework, and the steps taken to cure internal control shortfalls.

It was a new approach to network oversight that stopped short of regulatory micromanagement in favor of standards-based expectations. “The communications sector is at a critical juncture,” I said in a June 14, 2014, speech laying out the new program. “We know those [cyber] threats are growing. And we have agreed that industry-based solutions are the right approach… We will implement this approach and measure results. It is those results that will tell us what, if any, next steps must be taken.”

Unfortunately, the effort fell apart when the companies resisted a plan for reporting to the FCC. The industry argued the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) was a better place for such oversight. DHS, of course, had no regulatory authority over the networks. The Trump FCC then followed the industry’s preference and ceased the FCC initiative. 

DHS subsequently established the Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency (CISA), which is doing great work to advance best practices across the economy. Absent regulatory authority, however, such efforts can only go so far.  Cyber risk is a business risk; at the end of the day, how much a company invests in risk reduction is a bottom-line decision. The appropriate role for a regulator such as the FCC should be to establish expectations for such decisions to stimulate sufficient cyber protection by the nation’s networks—and then to inspect the results.

Today, the FCC’s minimal cybersecurity reporting obligations are constrained to cyber incidents that lead to outages, with no reporting requirements for compromises to confidentiality or network integrity. Amazingly, through its detailed reporting requirements on cyber issues, the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) has more information on cyber shortfalls than the regulator charged with protecting America’s networks. 

Thirty years ago, government and industry worked together to protect public safety and national security in a rapidly evolving digital environment. Ten years ago, industry and government could not come to terms with ongoing cybersecurity oversight at the FCC. The current cyberattacks are a clarion call that network security must be both a forethought in network design and an ongoing regulatory responsibility for the agency entrusted with oversight of the nation’s networks.

[indolentsecurityguard]

💛👾Alter Error Legacy Headcanons thread👾🩵

A long list of thread I have over this self-aware ai boy!

• He lack a bit of common sense. After all, he is dense.

• Him and his brothers have the rowdyruff boys dynamic. Maybe even have disassembly drones group dynamic as well (Legacy being N, G! Lawrie being V, and G! Larry being J.)

• He like to think he's a magical boy. Speaking of which-

• He watches puella magi madoka magica & any other magical girl anime. Especially sailor moon. (He also watches other media with different genres as well. I just like the thought of Alter! being a weeaboo 💀)

• Haven't thought about Alter Error's relationship w his brothers, but his siblings always tries to distract him by offering him to do some random tasks. Once Alter Error understood the assignment and leaves with enthusiasm to complete said tasks for his brothers approvals, they immediately try to ditch him.

• Alter Error is so cartoonishly dumb, but he's very sweet.

• There was a time where Alter Error came out of the screen and introduced himself to Shelly after a while of talking to her inside of the computer. But Shelly was caught so off guard by this thing popping out of her screen that she screamed and proceeded to throw stuff at him. Alter Error tried to apologize for scaring her and calm her down, but ended up retreating back to his realm after getting hit by multiple objects. (They both stopped talking to each other ever since in which bum Alter! Legacy out thinking that they could've been friends.)

• Going with the idea of him being an unintentional criminal, the only crime he commits is shoplifting at Walmart. He thinks he's just "borrowing it" and promises to return it afterwards. (They often left broken and placed a sticky note saying that he's sorry for taking it with a sad face written on the sticky notes. The same thing happened with junk food where he just left an empty bag on a shelf and left a sticky note on it.)

• I kinda wanted him to be like Giffany from gravity falls without the overly possessiveness part.

• Idk why, but I picture him being into the early 2000s/2010s internet era.

• He wouldn't mind being into scene stuff. He would love to dress like ones alongside attending a rave party and make Kandi bracelets.

• Alter! Legacy has a collection of anime figures in his digital realm. He'll always ask if you wanna see them with enthusiasm in his face.

• At first, Alter! wouldn't appear in his physical form when you enter his digital realm. You just be talking to an empty void as his voice speaks to you but can't be seen. That is until he decides to reveal himself to you in his physical form.

• HIS FAVORITE MUSICIAN ARTIST IS S3RL!!! He always listens to raver dimension & pika girl!

• He goes to Hatsune Miku's live concert. Since he can travel through places to place inside the electronics devices, he's able to sneak in to watch her performance! (He really wishes he could be just like her)

• If he knew how to code/hack into things, he would try to make him have the ability to fly around in the real world like he would in his realm. (He just finds it fun to fly around in the air)

• Just a concept idea, but basically I thought about how all the brothers used to look like G! Lawrie with their primary colors (Larry & Legacy being red and yellow). Until Larry managed to get his physical form and made a plan with his siblings to escape from Virus Charlie. Unfortunately, Alter! Legacy ended up being left behind (Accidental or not) as both G! Larry & Lawrie escaped out into the real world. Alter! Legacy believed that they'll come back for him and was even optimistic about it. (They didn't. It's been awhile since they left.) Alter! legacy soon managed to get his own physical form (though got corrupted due to him being bad at coding) and got out on his own. I remember saying that he wouldn't wanna go back to them, but at the same time, also thought about him wanting to look for them and reunite w his brothers, but they always try to ditch him whenever he shows up.

• he's a hello kitty boy lol.

• He drinks Max's energy drink. Even kept some stored somewhere in his void.

• Despite literally living in an empty white space, it can act like a simulation where Legacy can change it into anything he wants.

⭐End Of Thread! (Here's a little bonus fanart!)⭐

[cyberpunkonline]

The 90s Gaming Revolution: Where Legends Were Made and Controllers Broken

Alright, chaps, let’s dive headfirst into the 90s, the decade that took gaming from the nerdy kid in class to the school’s rockstar. This was a time when graphics were as blocky as a LEGO set, and every game felt like discovering fire for the first time.

The Titans of the 90s - Gaming's Hall of Fame

"Super Mario World" (1990): This wasn’t just a game; it was a cultural tsunami. With 20 million copies sold, translating to about $1.1 billion today, Mario was more than a plumber on a mission; he was a juggernaut in red overalls.

"Pokémon Red and Blue" (1996): These games were like the Beatles of the gaming world. Selling around 31 million copies, with an estimated value of $1.9 billion in today’s market, they didn’t just launch a franchise; they spawned a religion.

"Tetris" (Game Boy version): The Russian puzzle that conquered the world. With 35 million units sold, roughly equivalent to $2.3 billion today, it was the ultimate brain teaser with a killer soundtrack.

"Street Fighter II" (1991): This was the godfather of fighting games, not a "beat 'em up" in the traditional sense but a masterpiece of competitive brawling. It raked in over $10.6 billion in gross revenue across arcades and home consoles.

"Doom" (1993): This wasn’t just a game; it was a cultural phenomenon. Though hard to quantify due to its unique distribution, it's estimated that Doom was installed on more computers than Windows 95.

"The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time" (1998): A masterpiece that sold about 7.6 million copies, which is around $693 million in today’s money. It wasn’t just a game; it was an odyssey in a cartridge.

Jump to the 2020s, and you've got visual spectacles like "Minecraft" and "Grand Theft Auto V" dominating the scene, each a billion-dollar empire in its own right. However, not all modern titles hit the mark, with some hyped games fizzling out quicker than a dud firework.

The 90s were more than a decade; they were the birthing ground of legends. The era’s games taught us the joy of exploration, the thrill of competition, and the beauty of pixelated art. These titles didn’t just make money; they made memories. And as we look back, it's clear: the 90s didn't just play games; they changed the game. Cheers to that! - Raz

[flickys-courage-club]

My Courage The Cowardly Dog AUs:

Main AU - The show is the same except I added my headcanons and my own OCs to it

Caretakers of Anxiety AU - This AU only involves Barry and The Revenge Six. When Barry gets kidnapped by the villains as a small kitten and taken to their home, however, instead of killing him, they began raising the baby with little help from Freaky Fred and the Banana Dealer

Cowboy AU - This AU involves the episode 'Cowboy Courage' but the whole series takes place in Wild West era

2P AU - This AU is inspired by @ppanhwi involving the characters having alternate personalities and apperances. For ex: Courage is brave dog and isn't afraid of anything

Detective AU - This AU takes place in the 1970s-80s across New York. Courage is the main detective, though he is a coward but brave enough on his cases there he also meets with one of the new detectives in town named Barry and his partner Shade

Witch Hunt AU - This AU takes place in the medieval era in which the witch hunt begins

Frostbite Family AU - This AU is about Barry and Team Frostbite. Before Nathan and Teresa died, they had to send Barry who was a baby over to the snowy lands to which Team Frostbite found him. Since they realise that his parents died, they took him in to their place and raise him

Bloodlust Curse AU - This AU focuses on the episode "King Ramses' Curse". It is said that anyone who comes across his slab or himself would face the same plagues but Ramses gained the fourth plague which is his victims being slaughtered to death by thousands of bloodlusted bats

Eternal Night Curse AU - This AU follows a curse of eternal night being said by cat like creatures known as "Dream Cats" that night time will be stay forever in Nowhere. However it is said that if it happens, it will end all life really quickly due to the cold weather and lack of food. This also takes on the OC Crescent who after being free, was desperate to find someone who can play with her little games

Barbers Asylum AU - This AU focuses on Freaky Fred. Since Fred's mother(also the sister of Muriel) couldn't take her son's obsession of shaving hair, she had no choice but to send him to an mental asylum for life. Though the person he is fond who is Muriel, she pays visits to him whenever she is out

Weirdcore/Dreamcore AU - This AU follows the characters in a distorted version of their universe with their morbid appearances based of what they are. Ex: Computer is a computer head. Kitty is a cat plush made of cotton and wool and her mouse toy becomes a real mouse. Bunny is also a bunny plush made out of cotton and wool. Courage is a dog puppet, has stitch marks over him and buttons sewn into his eyes

Gorecore AU - This AU follows the characters in a horror and gory take on their universe, with their appearances being gory. Ex: Courage's eyes and limbs went missing, Katz has spider bites and wounds all over his body and Cajun Fox has burn marks from boiling water or oil, his eyes were sore from sunlight and his glasses are broken

Bad Ending AU - This is a What If... AU which the protagonists didn't get their happy endings. Ex: Courage and Muriel get killed by their enemies in Ball Of Revenge, Bunny and Kitty didn't reunite together due to Bunny meeting her fate at the hands of Mad Dog in The Mask and everyone died in the submarine explosion except for Katz in Katz Under The Sea

Gem AU - This AU is inspired by @welpimspooky it takes on Steven Universe. Courage/Coral and others are gems living across a fallen world

Reunited Family AU - This AU follows Courage and the Bagges meeting two dogs who look a lot like Courage, however the old couple don't realize that the two are Courage's actual parents

The Amazing Digital Circus X Courage The Cowardly Dog AU - This AU follows the TADC story but with CTCD characters as the characters. Ex: Courage has the role as Pomni, Muriel is Ragatha

Humanized AU - This AU is the same as my Main AU except the characters who are anthropomorphic animals or monsters are humans

[fedoraspooky]

I can't believe we almost had spookydoom lost media!

Oh I'm 100% sure there still is, I made a ton of things that I later deleted that I no longer have the files for, thanks to prior computer deaths that happened before the days when I was able to buy a portable drive to back stuff up on. ;w; I have everything that's currently up on my dA saved, and to my credit I didn't delete a LOT of stuff, just mostly a few sketches and stuff from before they introduced scraps as a feature... but yeah that means there were some smaller sketches and doodles and stuff that are lost to time now. Idk, I may still have some in the form of physical pencil sketches, from the era before I started using flash to make my sketches and lineart.

As for my old flash animations, I managed to save the majority of them- even screen recording ones that were more interactive with 'click-the buttons for stuff to happen/to scroll through panels' functionality (which I do still need to upload somewheres other than dA xnx). That said, there are one or two I know of that got lost when some issue happened with dA, where it lost the original files from its server somehow, or they got corrupted- either way they could no longer be played and the download was broken.

I've tried to save as much as I could over the years, and MOST of my old stuff is still available to see! My old flash animations may require a flash browser emulator or something though, until I can post my vids of them elsewhere. Idk, probably here or youtube, I'll figure it out. XD ;

[snoppy]

why is everything so ugly: the curse of modernism / everyone is beautiful and no one is horny / the empty promises of marie kondo and the craze for minimalism

ID given below readmore

[Image ID: five screengrabs of a youtube video by Mina Le, followed by four screenshots of two articles.

in the video Mina is sitting on a couch with a mic in her hand talking to the camera. she says, “Minimal traits, from Apple products to mid-century modern IKEA furniture. Millennials, the current apartment-renting, house-buying market, clearly have aligned themselves with minimalism, maybe in their plight to be more environmentally cautious, or at least to seem like it, or to appear spiritually superior in a pseudo-Buddhist kind of way, but that's another topic. But in general, we like to buy a house that's new, because newness implies that things aren't broken.”

the first two article screenshots are of white text against a black background. it reads, “The house looks real, too. There are toys and magazines scattered around the floor. There are cardboard boxes waiting to be unpacked since the recent move. Framed pictures rest against the wall; the parents haven’t gotten around to mounting them yet. The kitchen counters are cluttered and mealtimes are rambunctious and sloppy, as one expects in a house with three children. They’re building a pool in the backyard, but not for appearances: it’s a place for the kids to swim, for the parents to throw parties, and for the father to reacquaint himself with his love of diving.

At the time, this house represented an aspirational ideal of American affluence.

In her blog McMansion Hell, Kate Wagner examines precisely why these widely-hated 5000-square foot housing bubble behemoths are so awful. Over and over again, she reiterates the point that McMansions are not built to be homes; they’re built to be short-term investments.

Kate writes, “The inside of McMansions are designed in order to cram the most ‘features’ inside for the lowest costs.” These features exist to increase the house’s resale value, not to make it a good place to live. No thought is given to the labor needed to clean and maintain these spaces. The master bathroom includes intricate stone surfaces that can only be scrubbed with a toothbrush; the cathedral ceilings in the living room raise the heating and cooling costs to an exorbitant sum; the chandelier in the grand entryway dangles so high that no one can replace the bulbs in it, even with a stepladder.”

the next article is black text against a white background. it reads, “Little of this feels true today. The percentage of workers who are freelance instead of salaried grows each year. House prices are prohibitive in any place with a strong labour market. Economic inequality is more severe than ever in the modern era. To make matters even worse, the greatest wealth now comes from the accumulation of invisible capital, not physical stuff: startup equity, stock shares and offshore bank accounts opened to avoid taxes. As the French economist Thomas Piketty points out, these immaterial possessions grow in value much faster than salaries do. That is, if you are lucky enough to have a salary in the first place. Meanwhile, crisis follows crisis and mobility now feels safer than being static, another reason that owning less looks more and more attractive.

Apple devices have gradually simplified in appearance over time under designer Jony Ive, who joined the company in 1992, which is why they are so synonymous with minimalism. By 2002, the Apple desktop computer had evolved into a thin, flat screen mounted on an arm connected to a rounded base. Then, into the 2010s, the screen flattened even more and the base vanished until all that was left were two intersecting lines, one with a right angle for the base and another, straight, for the screen. It sometimes seems, as our machines become infinitely thinner and wider, that we will eventually control them by thought alone, because touch would be too dirty, too analogue.”

/end ID]