#fuck screens and servers and online services ONLY

[characcoon]

How can I be such a boomer at 22 years of age.

[kafus]

how to transfer your old pokemon to pokemon home before it's too late!!!

the wi-fi services for the nintendo 3DS and WiiU are shutting down in early april 2024, and while it specifically lists pokemon bank and poke transporter as being available post-shutdown, there is no guarantee of how long that may be for. there will likely come a time when these services shut down, and it could be in the relatively near future.

it is also pretty much impossible now to transfer pokemon to the switch's Home service with alternative methods such as PKHeX (popular pokemon save editor for the uninformed) due to the implementation of server-side Home IDs tracking pokemon at all times - the details of that aren't super important for this post, but point is, whenever bank shuts down, unless nintendo makes an offline way to transfer to home, it will be impossible to move pokemon from the old gens to the new, even with alternative/hack-y methods.

i write this guide with the intention of making this process easier for people since transferring pokemon has changed so much over the past two decades that it's a bit of a mess, and in a timely manner to give people time to finish the process. i'll be organizing by generation so feel free to skip to any part of the guide you need. (keep in mind that transferring is permanent, your pokemon cannot go back afterwards!!)

(by the way it would mean a lot to me if you weren't overwhelmingly negative of pokemon in the tags/reblogs. i get that pokemon transferring being an online service sucks but reading that stuff in my notifications constantly is really tiring </3 make ur own post to talk about that)

to walk you through, i'll be transferring this random shiny spinda i hatched in emerald version all the way up to pokemon home. her name is Moss :]

below the cut since this is long as fuck sorry LOL

GEN 1/2 -> 3 (aka RBY/GSC -> RSE/FRLG)

this is impossible! as for the Virtual Console releases of the gen 1/2 games on 3DS, more on that later in the gen 5 -> 6/7 section.

GEN 3 -> 4 (aka RSE/FRLG -> DPPT/HGSS)

what you need:

a copy of RSE or FRLG

a copy of DPPT or HGSS in the same language as the RSE/FRLG copy that has beaten the champion and has access to post-game areas, preferably HGSS because it lets you transfer unlimited times as opposed to DPPT's once-per-24-hours limit (unless you happen to have korean DPPT/HGSS, which is not language locked in terms of transferring)

either an original DS or a DS lite, the old ones with the GBA slot at the bottom

the steps:

#1. you can only transfer 6 pokemon at a time, so get whatever 6 pokemon you want to transfer up together in gen 3. if you're intending to transfer less than 6 pokemon, you'll need to catch some extras since you have to transfer the full 6 every time (i usually just catch a bunch of extra mons on the first route, which is what i've done here with the poochyenas/wurmples)

#2. put the gen 3 game into the GBA slot of the DS, and the gen 4 game into the DS slot. both games should appear on the home menu after turning on the DS.

#3. load the DS game and spam A past the title screen. before loading your save, scroll down. you should see a "MIGRATE FROM (GAME NAME HERE)" option. if you don't, either the GBA game isn't reading properly, or you have not visited Pal Park in your gen 4 game of choice. in HGSS, the Pal Park is located in Fuchsia City, and in DPPT, the Pal Park is located at the end of Route 221 below Sandgem Town.

#4. select the aforementioned migration option and pick the pokemon you want to transfer.

#5. navigate to the Pal Park and complete the Catching Show, where you re-catch your transferred pokemon in the wild. this does not overwrite what pokeballs they were originally caught in! you will need to bring a pokemon with Surf if you have any Pokemon that spawn in the water areas. you can check what location the pokemon you transferred will be in on bulbapedia.

#6. say yes to storing the caught pokemon in your PC boxes and they'll be there!

important things to note:

pokemon with HM moves will be blocked from transfer, so make sure to use the Move Deleter to remove HM moves from any pokemon you're transferring in gen 3 before trying to transfer. in RSE, the Move Deleter is in Lilycove City, and in FRLG they are in Fuchsia City.

gen 3 -> 4 is the only step in the transfer process where held items transfer up as well, meaning that if you attach a valuable item such as a rare candy, master ball, or TM to a transferred pokemon, you can take it off that pokemon and put it in your bag in the gen 4 game.

an aside about colosseum/XD gale of darkness on gamecube:

you can transfer pokemon from colo/XD as well! unfortunately you'll need to have beaten colo/XD, and then you will also need to beat the gen 3 game... in FRLG, you even have to complete the postgame ruby/sapphire quest on the sevii islands to unlock trading with the gamecube games. once you do all that though, you can navigate to the pokemon center basement in Phenac City to trade with your gen 3 GBA title. to do this, you'll need a gamecube or wii with gamecube compatibility, a GBA (or GBA SP), and a GCN -> GBA link cable to connect the two consoles.

GEN 4 -> 5 (aka DPPT/HGSS -> BW/BW2)

what you need:

a copy of DPPT/HGSS

a copy of BW or BW2 in the same language as DPPT/HGSS copy that has beaten the champion (or N in the original BW) and has access to post-game areas.

two DS consoles of any kind (3DS is also fine!)

the steps:

#1. get the pokemon you want to transfer together in your gen 4 game's PC boxes. you can only transfer 6 pokemon at a time. if you have less than 6, catch some extra pokemon, since you need to transfer the full 6 every time. save it and turn off the DS with the gen 4 game.

#2. turn on your gen 5 game and navigate to the Poke Transfer Lab. personally i just fly to Black City/White Forest and head west.

#3. talk to the NPC in the lab to start the transfer process. you will be prompted to turn on your other DS again and open DS Download Play with your gen 4 game inserted. do that and download the Poke Transfer app that comes up.

#4. select the 6 Pokemon you want to transfer when prompted.

#5. play the transfer minigame! just drag the... bow? (lol) on the bottom screen to aim your pokeballs. there's technically a time limit, but it's very generous, and your final score doesn't matter.

#6. say yes to transferring the pokemon once you're done and they'll be placed in your PC boxes!

important things to note:

pokemon with HM moves will be blocked from transfer, so make sure to use the Move Deleter to remove HM moves from any pokemon you're transferring in gen 4 before trying to transfer. in DPPT they're in Canalave City, and in HGSS they're in Blackthorn City.

the level the pokemon was obtained at and the date it was obtained is changed upon transfer to gen 5 - it will have the met date of your DS clock and the met level of the level it was at the time of transfer. if you'd like to preserve a pokemon's met date, make sure to change the DS clock to the proper date.

GEN 5 -> 6/7 (aka BW/BW2 -> 3DS TITLES/BANK)

what you need:

a copy of BW/BW2

a copy of any 3DS pokemon game (XY/ORAS/SUMO/USUM)

a 3DS (or 2DS, i'll just be referring to them all as 3DSes here) with the poke transporter and pokemon bank apps installed. these were free apps that were once downloadable from the 3DS eShop, but the 3DS eShop is no longer available, so if you don't already have them installed you will need to explore alternate methods, AKA hacking your 3DS and injecting them in. that's outside the scope of this guide but you can find more information here on 3ds.hacks.guide. (do not attempt to follow any 3DS hacking guide not on this website, they could be outdated and harm your 3DS!)

a nintendo network ID that your 3DS is logged into (also outside the scope of this guide but if you don't already have one, it will prompt you during the process to make one)

internet connection

the steps:

#1. poke transporter defaults to trying to transfer every pokemon located in Box 1 of your PC, so go into your gen 5 game and put every pokemon you want to transfer into Box 1, and take anything you don't want to transfer out. if you want to transfer more pokemon than you can fit in one box, you'll have to transfer multiple times.

#2. open poke transporter with your gen 5 game inserted into the 3DS' cartridge slot. after pressing A through some menus and selecting the gen 5 game when prompted, it should ask if you want to transfer the pokemon in Box 1, with a preview of the pokemon inside. confirm and let it do its thing. after poke transporter is finished, the pokemon you transferred will be in the special Transport Box in bank.

#3. make sure you either have a 3DS pokemon title downloaded onto your 3DS, or swap out your gen 5 cart for one, it doesn't matter which.

#4. close out of poke transporter and navigate to pokemon bank. at the time of writing this guide, bank is still online and is free for everyone without a subscription - the main menu has an infinite "free trial" period number.

#5. select "use pokemon bank" and pick a 3DS game to connect with when prompted. it doesn't matter which one, but if you're looking to see your pokemon in a gen 6/7 game right now, pick the one you want to move it into. viewing a pokemon in a gen 6/7 game isn't required to move to home later, though!

#6. the Transport Box is located one box to the left of Box 1 - navigate to it and drag your pokemon out into a normal bank box. now you can move them to any gen 6/7 pokemon game you want, or home later!

important things to note:

even though bank connects with both gen 6 and gen 7 games, once you place a pokemon into a gen 7 game (SUMO/USUM), you cannot transfer that pokemon back to a gen 6 game (XY/ORAS), so be careful!

an aside about the VC releases of RBY/GSC:

poke transporter can also be used to transfer pokemon out of the VC releases of RBY/GSC. these pokemon are changed pretty heavily, converting all their old gen data into pokemon's modern data structure. you can find more information about all the changes/conversions made on bulbapedia. these pokemon are considered gen 7 pokemon afterwards, and cannot be moved into XY/ORAS. pokemon with held items also cannot be transferred from VC titles and will fail to transfer.

if you want to transfer pokemon from cartridge RBY/GSC and have a save dumping device, it is possible to inject the cartridge's save file into the VC versions with Checkpoint on a hacked 3DS and then transfer that way. for GSC specifically, you'll need to edit your save slightly to make it compatible with VC GSC's save format. i personally made a converter for that here that you're free to use in-browser.

GEN 6/7 -> GEN 8+ (aka BANK -> HOME)

what you need:

a 3DS (or 2DS, i'll just be referring to them all as 3DSes here) with the pokemon bank app installed. this was a free app that was once downloadable from the 3DS eShop, but the 3DS eShop is no longer available, so if you don't already have it installed you will need to explore alternate methods, AKA hacking your 3DS and injecting it in. that's outside the scope of this guide but you can find more information here on 3ds.hacks.guide. (do not attempt to follow any 3DS hacking guide not on this website, they could be outdated and harm your 3DS!)

a nintendo network ID that your 3DS is logged into (also outside the scope of this guide but if you don't already have one, it will prompt you during the process to make one)

a switch with Pokemon Home installed, which can be downloaded for free from the switch's eShop. a nintendo switch online subscription is not required.

unfortunately, you WILL need a subscription to home's premium plan to do bank -> home transfers.

internet connection

the steps:

#1. open pokemon bank and make sure all the pokemon you want to transfer are in their own boxes, and any you don't want to transfer are not in the same boxes as the to-be-transferred pokemon.

#2. go back to the bank home menu and select the "move pokemon to pokemon home" option. when you get the notice about the transfer being one-way, you'll need to scroll down to hit "Begin".

#3. you will be prompted to select what boxes of pokemon you'd like to transfer, so pick all the applicable ones.

#4. you will then be prompted to put in the moving key from home, so turn on your switch, open pokemon home, and select the icon that looks like a 3DS on the main menu. when prompted, choose "Ready!" to get the moving key.

#5. input the moving key on the 3DS, submit it, and wait for both apps to do their thing. once bank goes back to its title screen, you can turn off the 3DS.

#6. home will go back to its title screen as well, and depending on how many pokemon you moved, you may have to wait a few minutes to get back into the app. once it's done, the next time you open home, it'll prompt you to choose how to organize your transferred pokemon into home. pick whatever you see fit.

#7. congratulations, your pokemon are safe in home!!

important things to note:

unlike all pokemon games before the switch, pokemon can actually go backwards in generation on switch, so don't worry about transferring a pokemon into scarlet/violet locking you out of moving it to sword/shield, for example. (the exception to this is LGPE - nothing can be moved into LGPE and once a pokemon is moved out of LGPE, it can't go back.)

pokemon home actually has decent hack checks, so be careful when transferring hacked/glitched/otherwise illegitimate pokemon around.

pokemon from a gen 3/4 game will have their met location set to "Poke Shifter" - this is an alternative translation of the japanese name for the Poke Transporter.

pokemon on switch can only transfer into games that contain that pokemon in its dex, so not everything transferred can go into scarlet/violet, for example.

and that's it!!

there's a lot of other quirks to the pokemon transferring process at pretty much all steps, so if you run into an unusual issue or have specific questions about how pokemon data is changed in minute ways across the franchise, i would encourage you to do your own research, all of this stuff is pretty heavily documented by the fanbase. this is just meant to be a guide for casual users, and a quick reference.

this guide of course does not cover options for transferring in alternative ways, but it's worth mentioning that if you have a hacked 3DS and the ability to back up save files at any point from gens 3 -> 5, you can use PKHeX to transfer pokemon into the 3DS titles, then move them to bank and transfer to home normally from there. that's outside the scope of this guide and i'd also encourage you to do your own research for that.

happy transferring!

[raitrolling]

Messy In My Misery

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

Velour didn’t sleep at all that day, or the following night either. There was no way he could, not when he had no idea what Veruco was going to do.

She had blocked him on both Twitter and Instagram, which he had expected. That meant he could not look up her account to see if she had posted anything about him, something he ordinarily wouldn’t do. Sure, he had a habit of googling his own name and keyword searching on social media to see what people were saying about him, but he would never go through someone else’s account. It made him feel like a stalker, but just thinking about what she could have been saying about him now made him sick to his stomach.

She was not online in his Discord server, either. Or perhaps, like him, she was only appearing offline. What could she be talking about to people outside of the channels designated for fans? She said that she had no one else but him which made him think those people she talked to on the server were only acquaintances, but what if…

But it was all quiet. Too quiet, as the cliche goes. And that just made Velour even more anxious.

He had gotten changed into an outfit with long sleeves to hide the bruising on his wrist. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t not think about it. He could be using his time to be more productive right now, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any of his fashion design projects, and the thought of trying to film a video now was nauseating. The next video he’ll have to make will be an apology video, won’t it? No doubt she’s already constructing a means to perfectly slander him, twisting the context of all his words to make him seem like he was always the bad guy-

Well, he kind of was. Good people don’t end up in situations like this, with their careers in the hands of a single whistleblower. 

He should probably start drafting up the script for such a video, given how likely it is that he’ll need to post one as soon as possible. But what should he be trying to predict? Would she say that he was leading her on, and broke her heart when he turned her down? Could she find other upset and heartbroken fans he wasn’t aware of to make her statements more credible, and then he has multiple people he needs to consider in his apology? What if she outright lied?

He sat at his computer desk, an empty Word document opened up in front of him, and his head in his hands. His second monitor was automatically refreshing the ‘New’ tab of his YouTube channel’s Subreddit, and the screen suddenly flashing white whenever the page reloading stung his tired eyes. He should try and get some rest now, but he felt simultaneously exhausted and completely wired. 

Bang, bang.

He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock on the door, and a loud yelp escaped from his mouth. Thankfully, the voice on the other side was one he was familiar with.

“Jesus, Vel, you alright in there? It’s only me, I’ve got your mail.”

Velour opened the door and was greeted by Aiolos’ amused smile. Though, that smile faded when the other blueblood saw the state of his childhood friend.

“Ok, I thought you were screaming because you were about to get caught filming something embarrassing. You look like total shit dude, what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing.” Velour waved his hand. Aiolos was not convinced, but didn’t feel any need to press on. “Did you say you have my mail?”

“Nah, the mail delivery guy doesn’t have your mail. Hmm, gee, I wonder why else he’s here,” The other blueblood grinned, and bopped Velour on the head with a stack of letters before handing them over to him. “Of course I’ve got all your weird fanmail. One of these fucking reeks of perfume, and not a good kind.”

Fanmail. What if she had sent something? Do the postal services still check for anthrax?

Velour tried his best to smile, not wanting to make his friend worry.

“Oh! Thanks! I could have gone down there myself to collect it, but, ah… You know. I’ve been very busy, as you can probably tell.” He laughs awkwardly. 

“Yeah. I can tell.” Aiolos deadpanned. He didn’t even have a witty remark to make about it, which Velour knew was an awful sign. “I don’t know what shit you’ve been up to and I don’t think I want to know, but get some sleep dude.”

“I will, don’t worry about it,” Velour smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring, then glanced over at the letter still in Aiolos’ hand. “Oh, did you get one too?”

Aiolos held up the letter and grinned. “What, are you jealous? It’s probably just a prank, let’s be real here. My fans are too busy mailing our channel jars of peanut butter and anything that can be wrapped up to look like a dildo.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Inside joke, don’t ask.” Aiolos laughed, then turned to head into his own apartment.

Velour decided not to.

He closed the door behind him, locked both the main lock and the deadbolt (which he normally would only lock the latter before he went to bed), double checked to make sure the door was definitely locked, then slid down against the door until he was down on the floor, sighing loudly. 

He stared at the letters in his hand. True to Aiolos’ word, one of them did smell like dollar store perfume, which Velour knew would not be from Veruco. She wore a brand that smelled like wildflowers, an overpowering mixture of sweet and herbal tones that resembled if someone poured multiple teas into the same mug. A smell he cannot accurately recall, but would know experiencing the scent once again would make him feel sick. He sniffed each envelope until he found the perfumed culprit (feeling gross from the thought that he’s smelling fanmail in the first place), and then put it aside. That one is safe.

The next four letters all have return addresses on them, and none of them related to Veruco or the Miopah business. Also safe. He considers opening them up now and reading through them to see if perhaps someone has written him a nice pick-me-up. But why would they? No one knows how he feels, he hasn’t gone public about it yet. And, despite his desperation to get his side of the story out there before the other voice is heard, he doesn’t think he can. For one, it would be unfair to the girl with the broken heart, and two, he doesn’t want pity from his fans. If they worry about him, he might risk closing the gap to them too much again. And if they don’t, they may instead see his ugly and cowardly side and turn their backs.

That left the final letter in his hand. The address to his PO Box written plainly on the front, no return address on the back. The only stamp was a generic Alternia post stamp in the top right-hand corner, and no other distinguishing features that could suggest the letter’s origin.

Was that identical to the one in Aiolos’ hand?

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Is he thinking too hard? It’s only been a single night, how quickly could she prepare to write and then send letters? She was furious when he left her, and could have easily written something in a rage when she arrived home, and the postal service does prioritise highblood deliveries…

He stood back up, and grabbed the letter opener from his desk nearby. He slid it underneath the seal flap, and began carefully dislodging the adhesive. It was a technique he used to first check fanmail he had planned to open up on camera to make sure the contents were appropriate, and not to make it as obvious if he needed to do multiple takes for opening and reading the letter.

As the letter opener reached the bottom of the seal flap, it hit something metallic with a soft clink. Confused and more than a little worried, he pulled out the letter opener and slid it under the other side to peel that away first. Then, he pulled from both sides to dislodge the bottom piece of the adhesive without getting his fingers anywhere near the metallic object.

Underneath the flap was a blade that would have certainly sliced his fingers had he opened the envelope normally. Extra blades had also been stuck to the inside of the envelope, and Velour did not dare reach in to grab the letter inside.

“Oh- Oh my god.” 

The envelope fell out of his shaking hands and hit the floor. He staggered backwards, hand over his mouth, until his back hit the side of the couch behind him. 

Her lusus was a stonefish, he recalled her saying once. Could she have also tipped the blades with its venom? Was this only a threat, or was she genuinely attempting to kill him?

Velour had no idea what to do. The possibility of his life being in danger was becoming more likely, unless this was just to scare him into thinking that. Could this have just been a distraction? Highbloods are known to scheme, and he couldn’t put it past Veruco just because she was quiet.

He flopped over the armrest and landed on the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling. He had to try and make amends before things grew out of hand. He had to figure out her plans without resorting to something as awful as stalking her. He had to make sure everyone else is left in the dark, so his fans don’t suspect something is wrong and start asking questions. So much to do, so little time left.

Instead, all he could do was lie motionless on the couch for hours, the exhaustion finally taking its toll and overpowering all other emotions. Except the regret he will feel later on.

…

Later that night, while performing yet another search through his social media feeds to check for signs of the news finally reaching the public, Velour happened to catch a new tweet at the top of his recommended feed.

aiolos>>>> (NEW MERCH DROP 20/1) @.BIFFSVOO_GonePostal

great news guys, the mailbox is suspended indefinitely thanks to people being fucking freaks about it. everyone put your hands together for the asshole who sent me an envelope full of razor blades, you ruined it for everyone👏👏👏

20 replies - 135 retweets - 2.1k likes

The discovery that she was also targeting his friends made his heart stop.

[yiffos-official]

smth to add: vpns don't even really obscure network traffic from your ISP. unless you set it up differently your DNS lookups are done by your ISP. you essentially go "hi pretty please give me the ip address of websiteidontwantyouknowingivisited.com and then asking them to send spooky unknown encrypted data to the ip address they just gave you. i know my ISP supplied router (that i physically cannot change) does not let me even change the DNS lookup IP, meaning that i have to dick around with creating a new DHCP server just to set up a network wide dns server or a pihole.

it is VERY hard/nigh impossible to be legitimately anonymous online. encrypted dns endpoints add a layer of obscurity, but then become another point of failure.

iirc riseup VPN is pretty much the only VPN that we "know" don't really have access to logs of traffic, but being a free service relying on donations through crypto, it can be slow as dick. mullvad is aight but it's still the same shit.

If you don't want to be tracked by advertisers use a range of different shit:

- smth like librewolf

- disabled javascript

- don't log in to fucking anything

- don't reuse email addresses

- don't use anything that isn't a 1080p monitor full screened on windows with the default settings on the browser

- don't go on the internet

- use some sort of line-of-sight bridge to steal the free wifi from the mcdonald's down the road

the internet fucking sucks. everyone kinda sucks. tor is mid and you rely on exit nodes being trustworthy and that your route isn't mostly threat actor nodes. i2p is pointless for clearnet browsing basically.

if you can't tell: i'm very very doomer celled with opsec lmao. i have a degree in this field, and it's hard to not be doomer pilled. the solution to all of this is to make every company ruining the web bankrupt; don't pay them to remove ads, use ad blockers, use a pi-hole to block dns lookups to tracking networks, purposefully poison ad networks if you want by setting up a bot to click on every ad it sees to slowly waste the advertisers money.

VPNs do not make you more secure

here's how they work!

first of all, most of your internet traffic is already encrypted via TLS (Transport Layer Security). Things that aren't encrypted are usually videogames or less important applications.

a VPN encrypts traffic between your computer and the VPN server you're using.

your Internet Service Provider (ISP) sits in the middle of that transaction.

cue the MS paint diagram

Without a VPN:

With a VPN:

the traffic between your VPN server and the rest of the internet is not encrypted any further.

things that VPNs are good for:

bypassing geo-blocking

bypassing website blocks set up by your ISP

obscuring network traffic from your ISP

things that VPNs are not good for:

browsing the internet without having your activity logged. every company that gives internet service logs the activity, it's half of how they make sure they're not being hacked.

hiding information from the government. VPN providers WILL bend to subpoenas, they WILL turn over logs of your network activity.

cybersecurity. VPNs can't save you once the traffic is between them and the final destination. they don't analyze your traffic to detect and stop hackers, they don't add any encryption where it matters.

VPNs are not a shortcut to security. you cannot pay 15 dollars a month to forgo all responsibility for your own digital privacy. do your research, use a password manager, stay safe.

my friends i hope you find this information useful. you have been sold a lie. remember to show extreme skepticism to youtube sponsorships and journalism websites which sing their praises.

sources: i have a certificate iv in cybersecurity

[daughter-of-sapph0]

predictions for 2022

-queen Liz kicks the bucket (bonus points if she's already dead but they won't officially say she is until February)

-the Mario movie is a box office failure, and Chris Pratt has his legacy ruined.

-Jeff bezos dies in a rocket explosion on his way to his space yatch

-Facebook / meta has its servers hacked and people lose access to their virtual house that they spent thousands on.

-extension to the last one: general public realize that nfts and metaverse and crypto and creating the matrix is stupid as hell. the vr market faces a crash similar to the video game crash of 83.

-Lego Star Wars The Skywalker Saga is a better game than any other Star Wars game before it. the other Star Wars game by quantic dream flops, and they go bankrupt.

-Joe Biden has a senior moment and Kamala Harris takes over as president for a couple days, rather than just 80 minutes when biden had a camera up his ass

-Texas faces another power outage because literally nothing changed in the last year. people start a riot and protest outside of the mansions of electricity ceos.

-a commercial from the super bowl spikes international outrage after using imagery from the 2020 BLM protests to try and sell Pepsi

-international trade is interrupted by another Evergiven level event.

-three new variants of covid are discovered by scientists in Brazil, but the variants are most common in France. the us bans travel from Brazil, but not from France.

-China wins the most gold at the winter Olympics. some guy on fox claims they had an unfair advantage because they were communist (accidents mixes up his transphobic and anti-communist arguments). a meme is started that communism makes you good at sports

-the year overall turns out better than the past four years combined, and it's joked that burning down the gavle yule goat broke the curse.

-summer heatwave causes damage for infrastructure and some republican politicians houses literally being to melt. they then suddenly begin to care about climate change.

-spacex and tesla lose most of their stock after elon musk retweets traced furry porn. news articles make a bigger deal about the image being stolen then they do about the subject matter of the image, which is the correct response to that situation

-Nintendo adds Gameboy games to the switch online service. it's sold as a separate package like the n64 games, and costs twice as much as the n64. they also release a stupid fucking controller that's just a Gameboy with a non-functioning screen. they charge $50 for it.

-an indie fan game that was part of a weekend game jam wins game of the year, because everything else was shit.

-breath of the wild sequel gets delayed.

-reddit sells out and becomes all "family friendly" or whatever. tumblr and discord are the only places left where you can say the word "kill" without censoring it to "unalive".

-microscopic life is discovered on an asteroid in our solar system by ISRO / India Space Program. racist space bros get mad that spacex didn't discover it first.

-elon musk uses DNA modification or whatever to make the nft monkey real.

-Disney anounces their 24th first LGBT character.

-star wars anounces a live action clone wars show focusing on the clones, staring Temuera Morrison as 80% of the cast.

-George Bush dies of covid. hundreds of millions of people celebrate.

[shigarakis-cumdump]

An Unhealthy Obsession- Shigaraki x reader

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shigarakiscumdump/works

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Summary: Short yandere fic based off the song “An Unhealthy Obsession,” by The Blake Robinson Synth. Orchestra. 

Cw: yandere and stalker tendencies

Word count: 1.9k 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*..✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Many people would call Shigarki the creepy type if they saw him on the street. Slouched over, face always buried in his phone with his hoodie covering the rest. He looked like your local creep who hung around popular stores and malls by himself. He would go to one mall in particular, even more so after he realized they had a Game Stop there. He would frequently go in to browse, and while he was checking out one day, he met you behind the counter.

“Will this be all?” you ask in your sweet customer service voice, with your head slightly tilted. Shigaraki froze in place. No one this pretty has ever talked to him before.

“Um, yeah, that’s all.” he says quickly, looking down to the ground while you're bagging his games.

“This one’s my favorite; I’ve been playing non-stop since it came out, have fun with it!” you say as you hand the bag back. And you play games? Could it get any more perfect?!

“Thanks,” he managed before walking out of the store and finding the closest bathroom. He locked the stall door and sat down. With his heartbeat in his cock, he couldn’t stop thinking of how innocent your voice sounded, and how pretty you looked. He decided from then on you were his next obsession.

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Shigaraki visited the store so often he learned your schedule. He would watch others make small talk with you, and it made him want to steal you for himself. His blood boiled when someone else would make you laugh. Soon enough, seeing you at your work wasn’t enough. He wanted to know more about you. So he followed you home one day. He kept his distance, being too scared of appearing creepy to people around him. You lived a few blocks away from him, who knew!This made it very easy for Shigaraki to stake out across the street and just watch you for hours. You always kept your windows open, maybe for the natural light? He appreciated it though; in his eyes, you left your blinds open for him. So he could watch as you dance around your room with your dog, and then relax and watch tv, hugging a pillow as you accidentally fall asleep. You were precious, and he realized all you wanted, all you needed, was someone like him to cuddle up into, to make sure you were safe. After all, there were too many creeps who could hurt you- he was just making sure they didn't get to you.

Shigaraki made it back to his place, but you never left his head. He went from sitting in the bushes, to sitting hunched over his desk, looking up your name on every search engine imaginable. “Bingo!” he says once he finds your socials. He scrolls down your page, seeing your stories about going to conventions earlier in the summer, spending time with your friends and- oh? What’s this? You were hugging a boy in this picture. Shigaraki zoomed in to get a good look at his face. “Why would you want a bastard like him?” he grunted angrily. He clicked on his profile and saw a post of you two eating at “your favorite restaurant” together for his birthday. The post was from the beginning of this year, so maybe you weren’t still with the guy. I mean Shigaraki didn’t see anyone while he was stalking you, which was a good sign.

Over time, his camera roll would fill up with screenshots of you off of your profile, shaky pictures he snapped of you while you were working, etc. He was in the store just when you worked now, because any other time he was following paces behind you to wherever your pretty feet were taking you. Stepping up to the counter with a few games, you began checking him out. His voice low and quiet as he asked, “Do you play games often?”

“Oh sure! Whenever I have free time, really. But lately I’ve been too busy. We should totally play together sometime!” you beam. Play together? He wanted to do a lot more than that .

“C-Cool, then I’ll see you through a screen next time,” Shigaraki scratches his neck awkwardly. You give him that practiced smile you show to all the customers. “Oh, what time do you get out?” he asks, and you give him a confused look. “S-so I know when to hop on! Just in case..” he drifts off, trying to keep cool. You tell him around 8, and he leaves. That’s perfect. Gives him just enough time to run some errands.

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Shigaraki went to the hardware store and got the smallest cameras he would find. He hurried over to your place, and prayed the key was still under the rug where you left it. And it was! He unlocked your door, and your small dog ran up to him, jumping on his leg. “You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you?” he says, leaning down to pet the dog. Don’t get distracted ! He reminded himself. He began by setting a few cameras up in your room, one facing each corner. This gave him a perfect view of your bed, desk, and closet. While he was in there, he picked up a piece of thin red fabric off the ground. He inhaled deeply, to smell a sweet and salty scent. He shoved them into his pockets for later, and finished placing the cameras.

Back out in the living room, your dog was following him around. Shigaraki knelt down and gave him a pat. He read the dog's collar; apparently his name was Shiro. Cute. “You want something, Shiro? You need some food?” he asked, looking around for his dog dish. He found it and filled it up and then sat on the couch. He took your panties out of his pocket, giving them another whiff. The smell shot straight down to his groin, heating him up. He pulled his phone out and went to his album just for you and scrolled through the pictures. He loved you so dearly, and one day you would know just how much he cherished you. He played back the small interactions the two of you had, and all the memories you’d have together in the future. He palmed his hardening cock, head leaning back on the couch.

It was 6:30, he still had a few more hours before you were back. He revealed his dick from his sweatpants, his tip leaking pre. He put your red panties in his hand, and started to jerk himself off- the soft lace brushing against the underside of his dick. His breathing became hitched and sporadic at the thought of you underneath him making the same noises. No, he wasn’t experienced, but you would teach him everything he needed to know!

“Y/N… god you’re so tight..” he groaned. His hips thrusting up into you as you let out lewd noises for him. He grabbed your face and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“God please- fuck, I’m close, Shiggy!” you whined under him, twitching with your back arched and a tit in his mouth. The thoughts that filled his mind went directly to his cock. Shigaraki humped his hand, wishing it could be you, waiting for when it was you. Maybe you’d even fuck on this couch, who knows. He quickly finished and made sure to leave nothing behind before heading out and staking out behind the bushes again.

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You throw yourself on the couch as always, sitting where he sat just an hour ago. You made yourself some tea as you turned the tv on. It wasn’t too late, meaning Shigaraki could watch you for a bit.

A little later, you make yourself dinner. You take the trash out and leave it by the road. Shigaraki, being the weirdo he is, makes his way across the street, dangerously close to your front window, to snoop through your trash. There had to be something good in there. . He rummaged through your trash to find empty take out containers, some paper, and- chapstick? He wasn’t big on using it himself, but if it was yours, it was automatically going on his lips. He thought of it like an indirect kiss from his one and only. It had a taste of sweet strawberries, probably what you would taste like if he ever had the chance to kiss you. One day, he keeps telling himself. He pulls out his phone to check your room cameras and he sees you starting up your pc. Right! You asked to game with him earlier!  Shigaraki raced back home to load his game, praying he would find you in one of the local servers. There was FlameThrower2050 , TheRadicalDude , SuckItRight , and Shiro’sCloud online. You had to be the last one. He shot you a direct message, asking if you were up for a game, and you said yes. You actually said yes! Of course, you didn’t know it was him. You went into a private lobby and you turned on your headset. “Hey, can you hear me?” you asked innocently. Your pure voice went right through his heart. “Uh yeah, you sound great,” he blurts out. “Oh, Shigaraki?” you remembered his name?! This left him ecstatic. The game starts and you play a few rounds, Shigaraki being in heaven. You ended up beating him. In every. Single. Round. A bit embarrassing for him, but you laughed it off and didn’t make fun of him for it. Oddly, that stuck with him. You were so nice the whole time- he couldn’t wait to talk to you at work tomorrow!

It was getting late, which is why you had to go, which also meant Shigaraki got to watch you on the cameras. He pulled out his phone, switching to the view of your bed. You crawled in with just panties and an oversized shirt on, how cute. You scrolled on your phone for a little, until it dropped on your chest and you fell asleep. Your phone battery is gunna die, silly… Shigaraki thinks to himself. He could always go over and plug it in for you. No! That was too dangerous!! What if you wake up when he’s standing over you? Certainly that’s not a good impression to leave. He argues with himself for a bit before he’s out of the house, running down the street. His feet carry him all the way back to your place. He grabs the key and goes for the door. It was unlocked. You left it unlocked for him? How nice of you! He sneaks in and Shiro is quick to jump on him. Shiro took quite a liking to him. He tiptoed over to your room, looking at your sleeping body through the door crack. He opened the door slightly, going in and looming over you. He pried the phone from out of your hands and plugged it in for you. You would thank him later; tomorrow! When you’d see him next. Shigaraki zoned out, watching you sleep soundly for a good hour, stealing pictures of you while you were snoring, and getting a quick sniff of your hair. He had stayed there a lot longer than intended, the sun starting to rise. He snuck out of your room and locked the door on his way out.

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“Oh, hey!” Shigaraki hears your pleasant voice call out to him from the counter. “Last night was a lot of fun; how about we play again tonight?” you ask him. He immediately says yes, his heart doing flips in his chest. This was the start of something good.

[sopejinsunflower]

Signed and Sealed - PJM One Shot

a/n: it took me awhile but I'm finally happy with this one. I wanted to write more but I decided to end it as I ended it here. You'll know why by next week (maybe)

Summary: Getting hired at one of the most prestigious catering companies had been a dream come true, mostly to earn a couple of extra bucks to make it through college. No one warned you not to get involved with the platinum blond CEO, though. Especially when he offers you something you can't turn down.

Pairing: Park Jimin x you, mentions of Kim Seokjin

Word count: 11.5k

Tags: AU! CEO Jimin, student mc, dom Jimin implied, slight 18+ content.

Fucking finally!

You stare at the email in both relief and excitement. You can’t believe it. After months of trying to find a part time job and getting multiple rejections or offers for work schedules that don’t align with your classes, you finally managed to land a waitressing job with a catering company. And not just any catering company, but the catering company,  JP Food & Services, which deals with high class events for the rich and famous, dinners and fundraisers among the politicians, private shows for people who pay more money than you could earn in a month for the tickets to. You hold in a joyous scream, punching the air with both fists. Fuck, yeah!

You scroll through the rest of the email a second time, truly reading every detail now. The best thing about this job is that you can choose which events you would like to work in. They will email you a week prior for the list of events they have in the coming week and you just reply back with your choice of location and the shifts you want to work and they will add you to the group chat of the events accordingly. The pay was the deciding factor for you to reply yes almost immediately: twenty dollars an hour, capped at two hundred dollars if the pay is counted by the day. The catch is that the money will only come in by the end of the week, before the list for the next week is up.

You grin. That’s the best paying offer you’ve got.

“Waitressing is hard work, you know,” your roommate, Yuna, commented when you told her of the job over breakfast one day. “You should check what the working environment is like if they’re paying you that much. Seems fishy.”

You brushed her off, too giddy on the prospect of earning a lot of money in the next few weeks or so. You’re already thinking of the shopping you plan on doing, the items in your online shopping cart that you can check out soon enough. You’ll push through it, you think. “It’s not like I can’t quit if it gets too much,” you retort, stuffing the rest of the toast in your mouth before you rush out the door after her to catch the bus.

When your Event Management lecturer is droning on at the front of the class, your eyes are stuck to your phone screen, scrolling through Twitter and Instagram alternately. Yuna keeps giving you dirty glances, nudging you once a while to get you to look up, which you do for at least a minute before your focus is shifted downward again. Bored with social media, you opened your email, thinking you can just clear out your junk but the email waiting in your inbox catches your attention. The list of work locations have been posted. You go through it one by one, trying to find something of interest.

Week 45

Good day, JP servers! Here is the list for next week. Please reply with the number(s) of your choice of location(s), along with the desired shifts. If the chosen shift is full, we will arrange for you accordingly. Should you agree, we will go ahead and add you to the group chat. If the shift made for you isn’t aligned with your schedule, you will have to step back or choose a different event.

You notice how half of the list is weddings happening on the weekends, five on the Saturday and another three on Sunday. You recognise two of the names; one for this social media influencer, a trust fund girl just a little bit older than yourself that you follow on Instagram, the other one is a local actor who is marrying a music producer who have been together since you were in high school. You circle number three in your head, noting the date and shift time. You continue on down the list and see another interesting event: a fundraiser with the Great Gatsby theme. “How original,” you mutter, but chose the number anyway. You hit reply.

No.2, 1100-1900. No.7, 1600-2200

You check again, making sure they’re both on different days (Saturday for the wedding, Sunday for the fundraiser) and hit send. You counted in your head that you could be making a little over three hundred dollars in just these two days and you grin to yourself, excited to start earning your own money. With that thought, the rest of the class doesn’t seem so boring anymore.

The week went by in a flash and soon it’s Friday night. You’re in your room, rummaging through your closet for some white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants, as required. Frustrated, you head over to Yuna’s room and knock once before opening the door. “Hey,” you call out. Yuna is by her desk, busy with homework, a pair of headphones on. You stand there for a few seconds before approaching her, tapping on her shoulders. She turns in her seat, removing the headphones to one side to free up one ear. “What?”

“Do you have any white shirts I can borrow for tomorrow?”

She dips her eyebrows. “Maybe. You can check,” she says as you squeal and run over to her wardrobe, “but do not make a mess.”

“Got it,” you reply, giving her a thumbs up. She turns back around as you help yourself to the array of clothes she has, which is a lot.

Yuna and you come from totally opposite backgrounds. She’s the daughter of a Korean conglomerate, the future heir to the company since her older brother turned it down to pursue photography and her older sister isn’t interested in the business. The weight of her birth right sits heavily on her shoulders that she has a perpetual slouch. She takes her studies in business seriously, taking up electives in different courses and that’s how you two met. You, on the other hand, come from a family of eight from a small town that no one has ever heard of. The middle child of six, you have a much relaxed attitude to life, excelling enough in your Mass Communication classes to not be taken off the scholarship. Your parents hardly ever visit you in the city, too much expenses to bear if they do.

But you two complement each other so well since freshman year; she helps remind you that there are certain things in life you need to put effort in, things that you need to prioritise more than others. She keeps you in check when you’re slacking off, pushes you to do better even when you moan about it, and is a very good friend, albeit sometimes more like an older sister instead. From you, she learns to let loose sometimes, that it’s okay to not be all stiff and serious all the time, to realise that there’s more to life than just books and studying. Although, to be honest, you get the both of you in trouble more times than she approves of.

You pull out a crisp white shirt with a Peter Pan collar, the label reads a famous Asian designer brand, and hold it in front of you in the mirror, turning this way and that. Yuna is taller than you by a couple of inches but you have more curves in the right places. You take off your cartoon T-shirt and pull on the shirt. The sleeves are a little long and the chest area is a little tight but you think you can pull it off.

“Looks fine.” You look at Yuna through the mirror. She’s leaning one elbow on the back of her chair. “Would look better if you could give me a bit of your boobs.”

“If I could, I would,” you sigh. “Can I borrow this one? At least until I can get a new one for myself?”

She waves you off. “Take it. I don’t think I’ve ever worn it in the last six months. But it needs to be hand-washed, though.”

You look back into her opened wardrobe. With that much clothes, you’re not surprised that this piece is forgotten. “Thanks!” you exclaim as you bound over to her to give her a hug, which she pretends to push you off.

“Get off,” she groans but not really meaning it.

You glance at her computer screen. “You’re already starting on your thesis?”

“Yes,” she replies, fixing her glasses back on her nose.

“But we don’t have to do it until next semester.” You take the mouse and scroll it up, wanting to read the title page. You get to it and squint, then gasp. “Your name isn’t Yuna?!”

She gives you an incredulous look. “Yes, it is. What do you mean?”

“Then who is that?” You point to a word on the screen: Eu-na.

She gawks at you. “That’s me, you idiot. That’s how my name is spelt.”

You stare at her. “Are you sure it’s not with a Y?”

She does a double take. “Yes, I am very sure that’s how my name is spelt. Now would you leave already? I need to finish this.”

“But-”

She sighs. “I’m Korean, you asshole. Did you forget?”

You roll your eyes at her. “Gee, how could I?” Your face turns into a scowl. “You’ve seen me write your name with a Y and not once did you ever correct me. That’s on you. And I’m not changing it now.”

She laughs then. “It’s not that big of a deal to me. It still sounds the same. Now, will you excuse yourself?”

You go to leave and as you reach the door, she calls out to you. “Hey, try not to spill food on people tomorrow, okay? I’m sure the media will be there, too, and I don’t want to see your face or name all over the tabloids.”

“Well, you know they say there’s no such thing as bad media, Yuna,” you say as you head back to your own room. You lay out the outfit and get ready for bed, wondering excitedly as to what kind of guest would turn up tomorrow. Too worked up to sleep, you lay awake until half-past two in the morning, groaning awake at close to ten, dark circles around your eyes.

Yuna is standing in the doorway when you finally manage to open your eyes.

“You’re going to be late if you’re not out the door right now,” she says matter-of-factly, a cup of coffee in her hands. You leap out of bed and get dressed, hopping on one foot as you struggle to put on your pants. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I banged on your door so loud the neighbours came knocking,” says Yuna as she hands you a cup of latte. You take a sip. “Oh, I see the bus coming up.”

“Fuck,” you mouth, banging the cup back on the table and running out, a bag of change of clothes on your back. You slip into your black Converse and run down the street to catch the bus that would take you to the wedding just on time. You manage to get on board, huffing and puffing into a seat and sitting down, only to find out you forgot your phone. “Fuck!” you curse out, louder this time, making the two ladies sitting on the opposite aisle to stare at you disapprovingly. You flash them an apologetic smile while you continue cursing under your breath.

Twenty five minutes later, the bus made a stop in front of this very fancy golf club, known for the many luxurious events held on its beautiful lush, green lawns. It’s a beautiful day, you think as you walk up towards the entrance, sunny and not a cloud in the sky and a light breeze just cool enough to keep the sweats away. There’s no specific instructions for crews to enter so you walk in through the front door, looking around for, you’re not even sure what. You think hard, trying to recall if there was any mention of the person in charge, someone you can find to receive direct orders from but your phone isn’t here for you to check.

But everyone in the foyer is busy; workermen racing around moving or carrying heavy things, men in dark suits and ties walking here and there, speaking into walkie-talkies, a few guests, probably the relatives or close families who arrived back early from the ceremony laughing and talking in groups, kids running around with not a care in the world. The subtle ambience music is barely audible among the noise. You check your watch; 11.10. You sigh, deciding to approach the man in the dark blue suit standing in one corner, platinum blond hair slicked back, a pair of RayBan hiding half his face. He’s so absorbed looking at his phone that you have to clear your throat to get his attention, standing close enough you can smell his cologne.

“Hi, excuse me.” You clear your throat again. “Um, sorry, I’m supposed to be with the serving staff here? But I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go.”

He regards me. “Are you new?”

“Um, yes?”

“You didn’t check the group chat?”

You gulp, realising that this could be the supervisor on-site. First day and you already fucked up. “I…forgot my phone.”

“You couldn’t turn back to get it?”

“I was already on the bus when I realised, sir,” you reply in a small voice, the intimidation rising by the second. You feel a lump forming in your throat but you try to hold back, telling yourself this is the consequences of your own actions.

“You took the bus?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. At this point, you’re already considering just going home and going back to sleep again. Forget about the money. Yuna will probably laugh at you and make fun of this day until you graduate but it seems so trivial right now. Timidly, you raise your gaze to meet the man only to feel overwhelmed, flitting your eyes back down. He still hasn’t removed his sunglasses and yet you can feel his piercing gaze.

“Follow me.”

You didn’t get to ask anything when the man marches off, you scurrying behind. He leads you to the back towards the kitchen area where you see more people wearing the same outfit, black and white, running around. A woman dressed sharply in a light blue suit is barking orders around, a clipboard in hand, standing by one of the metal kitchen counters. The man pauses by the doorway and turns to you. “Tuck in your shirt.” He looks down to your Converse and, even if you can’t fully see his face, you feel the distaste. He sighs but turns back around and approaches the woman. They exchange a few words, the woman glancing your way, nodding once and the man walks off, leaving you without another look.

“You over there,” the woman calls, pointing at you and snapping her fingers. “Put this on.” She slides a bowtie across the counter. “And tie up your hair. Did you bring any black heels?”

You shake your head, not recalling any specific shoes except that they had to be black. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She calls out to another server. “Jodie, can you find her a pair of heels, please?”

Jodie comes over and takes you by the wrist to a backroom. Judging from the piles of bags and clothes on hangers, you guess this is the changing room for the staff. She rummages through a big box and takes out two shoe boxes. “Here, try these on and see which fits better.”

You take them and open up one, unboxing the Mary-Jane style three-inch heels and putting them on. They look pretty fancy for waitressing but you don’t question it. “These are fine,” you tell her, handing the other box back. You fiddle with the bowtie around your neck before Jodie comes up and fixes it for you. “First gig?” You nod, feeling suddenly nervous.

“Don’t worry,” says Jodie, patting your shoulders. “You’ll get used to it fast. But the heels are gonna be a bitch at the end of the day. So I suggest you go get your own pair for the next one. Which shift are you on?”

“The full day,” you answer, checking yourself in the mirror and already feeling the blisters that are going to form on your heels later.

“Me, too. We can stick together and I’ll show you the ropes.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries. I was once in your place, too.” You follow her out back and towards the kitchen, where the woman is reading out the itinerary in a loud, commanding voice. “Just let me know if you have any questions but the job is pretty easy. Just walk around the room with whatever they hand you. How’s your arm?”

“My arm?” You shot your eyebrows up.

Jodie chuckles, gesturing to the huge metal trays arranged in one corner, still empty. “It’s going to be a helluva workout to be carrying those trays the whole day today.”

“How long have you worked with this company?” you ask but then the clipboard woman’s icy stare zones in on you and you feel your stomach drop.

“If everyone has enough chit-chatting, let’s get on with business.” She clears her throat and flips through her clipboard again, this time assigning people to their respective jobs, reminding of the itineraries as she goes along so that everyone has a clear idea when and where they should be throughout the event. When she finishes, she looks up at the group surrounding her, especially the servers. “I should remind you once again that you are not to interact with any of the guests any more than you have to. No flirting, no fraternising, no asking for photos, or signatures or anything of the sort. And god forbids you if you fall on your asses. We are professionals! Please don’t embarrass the company by being on the tabloids tomorrow.”

The crowd of people in black and white nod their heads, murmuring yes, ma’am as they do, much to her satisfaction. Her eyes fall back on you and there’s a silent resignation in her expression almost as if she expects the worst from you. Jodie leans in close and whispers, “Don’t worry. You’re not the only new face today. Just stick with me, alright?”

The trays are divided into two piles; one for champagne glasses, another for the canapes. The first hour or so, the time between guests' arrivals and brunch, your job is to carry the canapes around the event area, offering up food to whoever you see with their hands empty. The canapes aren’t so heavy so it’s a breeze for you to weave around the people as subtly as you can. You recognise some of the people; actors and actresses, singers, a couple of politicians, famous TV hosts and hostesses, even one of the news anchors you see on TV every night is there. Most of them accept your offer, some of them completely ignore you as if you’re part of the wall fixtures.

That first hour is easy, leaving you feeling a bit more confident now. The heels don’t hurt as much as you expected them,too, so all is good so far. You catch glimpses of the platinum blond man, sometimes talking to the guests in low murmurs, most times standing by himself alone, watching the crowd. He has taken off his sunglasses and you notice he’s very handsome. Something about him, the air around him, makes him highly sexually attractive. It’s not just you who notice this, but most of the guests do, too, chancing furtive glances his way. Even some of the servers went up to him multiple times despite the same answer; an almost imperceptible shake of the head, his face serious and unreadable, eyes looking past them. It’s almost like he’s magnetic, pulling in everyone just to repel them back.

That’s when his eyes glide over to you and your heart jumps to your throat. Flustered, you turn to scurry out of there but, as fate would have it, you bump straight into one of the guests, the tray flipping over from your hand sending the canapes flying through the air before landing on the ground at your feet. It’s a good thing you’re on grass; it muffled the sound of the tray falling. The nearby crowd gasps and stares. The guest you ran into is brushing down his suits, checking for stains. You stand there, frozen, watching as this tall, handsome actor assesses himself before finally looking up at you. Your whole body is stiff, waiting for the berating that doesn’t come.

“You okay?” he asks, peering down at you. You instantly recognise him and your heart almost stops beating. This up close, he’s ethereally beautiful you realise the cameras could never capture his true beauty. “Are you hurt?”

You slowly shake your head as Kim Seokjin picks up the tray and hands it back to you. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve looked where I was going.”

“N-no, it’s fine.” You hug the tray to your chest. “It’s, um, it’s my bad. Is your suit okay?”

“My suit?” He laughs, a twinkle in his eyes. “My suit is replaceable, it’s just a suit.”

You nod, eyeing how the clothes he’s wearing look like they’d cost you a yearly salary of a normal office person. Behind his shoulder, the lady with the clipboard is staring daggers at you. You hurry to pick up the fallen canapes, just as Seokjin does the same. “No, no. It’s okay. Please, just leave them and enjoy the party. I’ll do it.”

But Seokjin persisted, picking up the ones nearest to him and placing them all into your tray just as the clipboard lady comes over. She clears her throat, plasters on a huge smile on her face and taps him on the shoulder. “Sir? Mr. Kim, sir, please, don’t worry. We’ll handle this. After all, this is our job.” She looks pointedly at you and you wither under her gaze. Seokjin stands up, smiling. “And I’m just trying to help.”

You gather everything and hurry out of there, Seokjin staring after you. But Seokjin isn’t the only one that’s keeping a close eye on you. Just as you disappear into the back, the platinum blond man makes eye contact with the clipboard lady and she, like you, shrinks back a little, reversing out of the crowd and going off to find you.

You find yourself in the staff changing room, squatting down on the floor with your head in your hands. Fired after an hour, you think. How lame is that. You take a few deep breaths, collecting yourself. The door bursts open and the clipboard woman is standing there. “There you are!” She straightens her hair before continuing. “What are you doing? We’re not paying you to sit around. Go! Get back out there.”

You gape up at her. “You want me back out there?”

“Yes! Now, hurry! Brunch is about to start.” She ushers you out, pushing you out the door and towards the kitchen. The trays are now filled with four to five plates, covered in domes. “Take this one. Table number twelve. Just match the plates with the names on the table. Remove the dome once served. Got it?”

You nod but are a little hesitant. The tray looks a lot heavier now. The lady rolls her eyes, pulling you by the wrist. “Palm up, one hand. You’d need the other to serve.” You follow her lead and she places the tray onto your palm. Your knees buckle a little from the weight and you’re finally starting to feel the blisters on your feet. As the other servers pick up and carry the food with ease, the lady is still looking at you with concern, wondering if it’s worth the risk. It’s the guests she worries about more so than you. You turn to leave, tottering a little and the lady jumps to catch the tray but a pair of stronger hands catch you by the waist and steadies you.

“Use your core,” the platinum blond man says, fingers digging into your sides. “Here.” He pushes his thumbs into your soft abs. “Stand up straight. The heels are there for a boost of confidence.”

“They’re hurting my feet,” you whine then catch yourself.

His eyes flash and you shiver, looking down. Without a word, he takes the tray from you and your heart sinks. “Watch me.”

“But-”

With one look, the lady bites down on her tongue, watching helplessly as the man takes the tray out. You follow him, wondering who the hell he is. He’s a head taller than you, slim-figured but commands such a strong presence it’s almost suffocating. Not in a bad way, you think. More like in a way that if he asks you to strip naked in front of the crowd you wouldn’t even dare to say no. You shake the thought out of your head, a little surprised with yourself, but as you walk behind him, you just can’t help but notice how firm his butt is. It’s almost as nice as looking at his face.

The outdoor wedding has moved over to the dining area where tables have been set up under this huge, cream-coloured canopy, divided into two sections with the middle aisle leading up to the couple’s table and the beautiful four-tiered cake standing at the front. Twenty-five tables are set up on one side, ten people per table, and yet the guests have been whispering how the couples wanted a small wedding, thus the limited guest list. The platinum blond man heads towards table number twelve and you follow close behind, hands clasped in front of you, fiddling your thumbs together. You see Jodie up ahead and she cocks one eyebrow at your situation. You give her a shrug.

When he approaches the table, all ten pairs of eyes widen. One of the women, elegantly dressed but looks like she’s in her mid-30s, stands up, smiling ear to ear. “Oh my, Mr Park, what an honour to be served personally by you.” She continues to giggle like a high-schooler, twirling her hair on one finger. The platinum blond man, or Mr Park as she called him, flashes her a smile that could’ve probably saved the Titanic by melting the ice they hit.

“A little treat for you today, Mrs Williams,” he says as he places her plate in front of her, winking. The woman lightly hit him on the arm. “I’m recently divorced. Just call me Amy.” She bats her eyelashes at him, her hand lingering on his arm. Your eyes zone in one the gold band around her left ring finger that she keeps at table-level just as Mr Park smiles wider. “Right. Well, I hope you enjoy your food, Amy. Let me know if you need anything.”

He finishes serving the whole table and quietly slips the tray back to you. He fixes his suit jacket, leaning in to speak in a low voice. “Do the same with the rest of the meal. And for heaven’s sake, smile. You don’t have to look like you’re having the worst time of your life.”

“Thank-”

But he is already walking away into the sea of tables, greeting people as he passes by, shaking hands with some and returning flirtatious banter with the ladies who unashamedly throw themselves at him any chance they get.

-you,” you huff, watching him from afar. You sigh, heading back to the kitchen, prep-talking to yourself the whole way to do better and step it up. For some reason, you manage to stay close to Jodie for the rest of the shift, your assigned tables closer to hers and as the hour passes by, you get better and better to the point you can feel yourself enjoying the job. The confidence grows along with the smile on your face, finally catching some attention from the other servers and even a few of the guests. Even Seokjin stops you to get a short conversation in before you have to rush away. It feels good to be noticed, especially from that star actor who seems to always be surrounded by people.

By the end of the shift, the staff gathers in the kitchen to listen to the event post mortem by the clipboard lady. She’s telling everyone good job but her face is set straight, like she’s not happy to commend the people on their work. The group finally disperse after the final thank yous and see you again and you check your watch. It’s already 8PM and your stomach growls, having only eaten half of the lunch provided before being rushed back to work. Your feet are killing you even when you already changed back to your Converse and your left arm probably has developed muscles from all the heavy lifting and balancing.

“So,” says Jodie as you both exit the building, “will I see you again at the next job?”

“I signed up for the fundraiser tomorrow. The Great Gatsby one,” you answer, looking hopefully at her.

Her face falls. “Oh. I chose the instgrammer’s wedding. Fundraisers are boring. A lot of old people talking business and politics. But much easier, I’d say. No heavy plates. Just snacks all night round. And champagne. I’m glad today didn’t scare you off. Maybe we can choose the same event next time.”

You agree and exchange contacts with her. To your surprise, you watch as she gets into a convertible Cooper parked in the guest parking lot, starting up the engine. You wave as the car drives off, heading to the bus stand yourself. All the way, you can’t help wondering why someone who drives an expensive car would work as a server.

The next bus is in the next forty-five minutes so you sit down, hugging your backpack to your front, feeling drained. You rest your head on the backboard, closing your eyes. You have no way of knowing if Yuna is cooking dinner or not so you figured you’ll get McDonald’s from around the corner of your place. Your stomach lets out another loud sound and you yearn for something more than fast food.

A Porsche Panamera glides to a stop in front of the bus stop and you squint at it, wondering if it’s waiting for one of the guests. The passenger side window rolls down with a whirr and you sit up straighter when you see who it is. “Are you taking the bus again?”

You hesitate. “Um, yeah? That’s how I came.”

“No one who can pick you up?”

You shake your head, your lips turned up in an amused smile. “No.”

Mr Park regards you for what feels longer than a few seconds. “Get in.”

“What?” you splutter.

“I said, get in,” he repeated. “Hurry up.”

You stand up but pause. “The bus will be here soon, sir. It’s fine.”

He scowls. “Why are you so stubborn? Just get in. I’ll take you home.”

Something clicks in you and you start to feel annoyed. “I don’t even know you. I don’t even know your name.”

He sighs heavily like he’s dealing with a difficult child that he has no time for. “Never mind, then. Take the bus.” The windows whirr closed much to your astonishment and the car revs off noisily down the street. You stare after it. “What an ass,” you mutter, plopping back down, slightly regretting not taking the offer. But flashes of news of females who are abducted and raped then killed cross your mind and you’re once again convinced you did the right thing.

You check the time again. Thirty more minutes. A few of the servers have joined you at the bus stand, three guys and another young lady who has a cigarette in between her lips. Suddenly you see headlights coming up the other street and you see the same car making a half turn to switch lanes and stop right across from where you’re sitting. The window is already open. At the sight of the others, he motions you to come closer with his finger. The girl is staring daggers at you as you approach the car.

When you’re close enough, he asks in an irritated voice, “You really don’t know who I am?”

“No. Should I?”

“I would’ve guessed most people should when they decide to work for me,” he says vehemently. You stare at him. “Yeah, I’m the one paying your salary. Now, will you get in?”

“You’re Jimin Park?”

He heaves a sigh. “Are you deaf or just dumb?”

You step away from the car, frowning, and feeling a little hurt. He groans, banging his head into the headrest. “Look. I’m really tired and I thought you could do with a ride home. It must have been a long day for you.”

Your stomach chooses that exact moment to betray you, sounding out the hunger alarm for all to hear. Mr Park gives you a hard stare. “As your boss, I’m ordering you to get in the car.”

“The bus will be here soon,” you attempt weakly, your resolve shaking.

“Or,” he adds with a mean look in his eyes, “I’ll withhold your pay until the end of the month.”

Your eyes widen. “What? You can’t do that!”

“Wanna bet?”

You stare at each other but as your stomach growls again you relent. “Fine,” you say in a meek voice, opening the car door and getting inside. Immediately, the intimidation starts again, almost as if you’re suddenly enclosed in his predatory bubble. You can’t quite put a finger on it but it feels like sitting next to a salivating demon who’s looking at you with hungry eyes, quite the contrast to his very sweet, very devilishly handsome face.

“Do you like Korean food?” he asks, shifting the car into gear and speeding off. You only nod, your throat prickling at the thought of some spicy food. The hunger almost feels unbearable now. He nods along. “Good.” He glances at you. “I like you better when you’re obedient.”

Something about the way he says it makes goosebumps run up and down your arms and you cross them together, hugging yourself. You throw your gaze out the window but through the reflection, you catch the hint of a smirk on his face.

***

Just like you expect, he pulls up in front of this restaurant known for not only its Michelin Star chef, but also its view as it is situated atop a hill that overlooks the city. The only way you ever saw the interior of the restaurant was through photos posted on social media by famous people and on Yuna’s Instagram page while you only daydream about it. Although Yuna swears the food is just mediocre but you wish you could have been the judge of that yourself.

Now as you follow behind Mr Park up the steps and through the main doors, you can’t help but feel a little excited, like a child on Christmas, your eyes taking in the decors and every little detail, even the smell wafting in from the dining area. The maitre’d eyes you suspiciously but greets Mr Park with such enthusiasm it’s comical to watch, but you remain silent all the way to your seat. He comes back later with a green glass bottle and pours out two shots of soju. He leaves the bottle on the table and goes away.

You watch as Mr Park down the shot in one gulp, throwing his gaze out the glass window, the lights of the city twinkling orange and red. Your drink remains untouched as the maitre’d returns again, this time with plates of different types of food, placing them carefully and silently, not even a thud, in front of you. You look at the selection, a variety of meat and seafood, spicy and non-spicy, stir-fried and soup, hot and cold, along with about a handful of side dishes. The table is almost covered with food. The bowl of rice, one for each of you, comes last.

“Dig in,” says Mr Park gruffly, skilfully using his chopsticks to get the rice. You stare at the food again, licking your lips, not even sure where to start. You watch as Mr Park picks up some meat and piles them on your rice. “Eat. I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” you answer breathlessly, bringing the meat up to your lips and into your mouth. You chew slowly at first, and as the flavour bursts on your tongue, you chew more adamantly, shoving more in. The only problem you have is with the rice, wishing you had a spoon instead. Mr Park just silently watches you, eating much slower, choosing his food carefully and almost minimally.

“You don’t like rice?” he asks casually.

You shrug, a pout on your lips. “I do.”

“Then why are you barely touching it?”

You look up at him, sighing, putting the metal chopsticks down. “These are hard to use.”

Without breaking eye contact, he raises one finger and the maitre’d is suddenly standing there, ready to take his order. “Can we have a spoon for the lady?”

The maitre’d glances over to you. “A…spoon, sir?”

Mr Park flickers his eyes over at him to confirm and he straightens up and scurries off, coming back with a metal round spoon. “Here you are, ma’am.” His eyes are nothing but judgemental but you just smile sweetly and brightly. “Thank you so much.”

Dinner went by much smoother and at the end of it, you’re sitting back in your chair, wishing you could unbutton your pants. There is still leftover food and you look at them guiltily, realising that you had done most of the eating. When Mr Park puts down his chopsticks and takes a napkin to his mouth, you frown. “Aren’t you finishing those?”

“No.” He puts down the napkin and checks his watch.

“But there’s so many left,” you moan, gesturing to the table.

“And?”

You look at him disbelievingly.  “You know how many hungry children are there in the world that would love to have this food?”

He gives you a quizzical look. “If there’s that many, I don’t think these would be enough.”

You groan exasperatedly. You look up, trying to wave over the maitre’d but he keeps avoiding looking your way. You wave your hands over your head but he is adamant to ignore you. “What are you doing?” Mr Park asks, sitting back in his chair.

“Trying to get them to take away all this food,” you answer.

“For who?”

You pause, looking back at him. “Seriously? I didn’t know you’re such a waster, Mr Park. You’re one of this world’s problems.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Right.”

You scowl but don’t say a word, still too busy trying to catch the head waiter’s attention, half standing now.

“And it’s Jimin.”

“Huh?” You turn your attention back to him. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s Jimin,” he repeats impatiently.

“What is?”

“My name,” he snaps. “Are you that dumb?”

“But that’s a girl’s name,” you say, scrunching your nose. “And I’m not dumb. Don’t go calling people dumb so easily, Jimin.”

He groans, rolling his eyes. He snaps his fingers and the maitre’d rushes over immediately. “Pack these up, will you? And the check, please.”

“Certainly, sir. Right away, sir.” The maitre’d waves his hands and a couple of waiters come over and take the plates away. A white receipt is placed face down on the table as the head waiter walks back to the front. Jimin slides the paper to himself and stands up and you follow suit. You arrive at the front counter just as the food comes out again in paper bags, to which they hand over to you as Mr Park, or Jimin, pays. The maitre’d gives you one last dirty look as you both walk out the door he is holding open.

“Give me your address?” Jimin instructs as you pull on your seatbelt.

“Why?”

He gives you a look that says he might end up driving to the lake to dump your body there. Realising what he needs the address for, you quote it for him as he types it into the car’s GPS. Fifteen minutes later, the car is parked in front of your apartment building. He looks up at it. “Kind of small.”

You unbelt yourself. “Well, that’s cuz I’m the one working for you, not the other way around.” You open the door and step one foot out when he puts the paper bags of food into your lap. “All of them? You don’t want any?”

“Just take them and get out already,” he sighs. You shrug, stepping out and about to close the door when he asks, “Did you sign up for another event?”

“Yeah,” you say, hefting the paper bags closer to your chest. “Tomorrow. The Gatsby fundraiser.”

He frowns, not quite getting it but then it dawns on him which event you’re talking about. “Well, it’ll be good to have your phone with you. And be there at least thirty minutes early.”

You watch him pull out but don't drive off. You wait, but the window rolls down again. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he shouts through the window. “Go on up, then.”

Slightly taken aback, you bounce up the steps and open the lobby door. You turn and wave at him before shutting the door. You wait another ten seconds and you can still see the silhouette of his car through the crystallised glass. Thinking that he might be on his phone before driving, you go up to your floor and to your unit. Yuna is watching TV when you hurry past her to the window that overlooks the car park. You can see him leaning over the passenger side to look up and your eyes meet. He sits back and finally drives off.

“That’s just creepy,” you muse. “Was he trying to see which floor I was on?”

“Who? What?” Yuna joins you by the window, watching his car tail lights disappear into the night. “Whoa, who’s that?”

“My boss, apparently,” you huff, transferring the paper bags into her arms instead. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, you got my message,” she replies, peeking into the bag.

“No, I didn’t. I left my phone this morning,” you tell her, going off into your room to find your phone on the bed, still plugged in. You checked it, cringing at the many unread texts, especially the group chat for today’s event, and Yuna’s more recent one asking to get dinner on your way back. You read all of them, disregarded the other notifications, and exit the wedding group chat, as per the instruction once the event finished.

“Wait,” says Yuna as she follows you to your room and stops by the doorway. She pulls out the tub from the paper bags, eyes widening as she registers the name of the shop. “You went to Seoul of Korea?”

You nod. “Yeah, pretty neat place. The food’s not as bad as you said it was. It was actually good.” You start to undress, ready to hop into the shower.

“With your boss?”

You nod again.

Yuna leans back on her hips. “Damn, girl. You move fast.”

You snort. “I was practically coerced there. And he’s pretty rude.”

You follow her back into the kitchen as she unpacks the food. “Did you eat there or these are the takeouts?”

“We ate there,” you reply. “And these are leftovers. He ordered so much food and he didn’t even finish them!”

Yuna gives you a funny look. “So you went to the most fancy restaurant and told them to pack the leftovers?”

“Exactly.”

She laughs, mouthing wow as she puts a couple of tubs into the microwave. While the microwave hums, she leans against the counter. “So who is the old dude? Do I know him?”

“I don’t think he’s that old,” you say, picking on some of the food that is waiting for their turn to be reheated. “He looks super young. Jimin Park?”

Yuna’s eyes widened again along with her mouth. “Park Jimin?!”

“That’s what I said. In reverse.”

“Wait, hold up.” Yuna holds up both hands as if to stop time. “That car just now, that you came back in, that was Park Jimin? You went to have dinner with Park Jimin?!”

“Why do you keep repeating his name?”

“Do you know who he is?”

“I told you,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He’s my boss. I’m going to take a shower.”

Yuna rounds over to you just as the microwave dings. She puts her hands on your arms, shaking. “Park Jimin is like the Korean version of Christian Grey, everyone knows that!”

You stare at her. “As in he’s as rich or he’s…y’know, a sex maniac?”

“He’s fucking rich!” Yuna exclaims, shaking you a little harder. “And he’s hot as fuck! He’s like the most sought after bachelor among the rich and famous! Everyone wants him! Though I don’t know if he’s a sex maniac but given that everyone would love to fuck him, it wouldn’t be farfetched.”

“Are you done?” you ask, glancing at where she’s holding you. She steps back, taking out the food from the microwave and putting in the rest. “I don’t know why it matters so much. He’s rude and seems full of himself. And he’s my boss. He just gave me a ride home. No big deal.”

Yuna splutters. “No- no big deal? I’d be freaking out if Park Jimin sent me home.”

“You are now,” you point out.

“Look,” she says, gathering herself. “The point is, you should consider yourself lucky. Everybody wished they could ride in his car.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “Let him see you take the bus and be pathetic on the first day of work. Maybe he’ll take pity and drive you home. Cuz that’s what happened.”

Yuna laughs again, darkly this time. “Park Jimin doesn’t care about anyone. He’s a cold sonofabitch. I know because I tried talking to him once at this party and-”

“You mean at the rich people party?”

“Yes, that. You know how my parents want me to socialise,” she says, air-quoting socialise.  “Well, anyway, my mom pushed me to talk to him but he’s not a friendly person. Couldn’t get more than ten words from him. I don’t think he talked to anybody that night, except for a few key people. Kept to himself, glared at everyone that approached. Worst five minutes of my life. It felt like he was just waiting for me to leave, y’know.”

“And yet you said he’s hot as fuck and all that?”

She nods. “Because he is. All my friends, even my mom’s friends, are just infatuated with him. But he doesn’t seem to notice or give a shit. Maybe he’s gay.”

“Maybe,” you answer absentmindedly. “I’m going to shower. For real, this time.”

You hear Yuna sigh longingly but all that’s on your mind is your next job tomorrow. There’ll be more important people, people you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of; not that you wanted to today, either. Your feet are still hurting and so is your arm and, to be honest, you’re actually dreading going back to work. But a part of you is somewhat curious if he would be there too, Park Jimin. You finish showering and go to bed wondering if you will get to see him again.

The answer is, yes.

At 3.30PM, you are gathered together with a group of people wearing the same outfit. This time, instead of a bowtie, you are given a plain black tie. The leader this time is a no-nonsense man, gruff and speaks with a perpetual scowl on his face. He has on an earpiece that is connected to a mic at his wrist and he gives the impression that he’s from the secret service. The instructions had been more or less the same as last time; no flirting, no fraternising.

You have bandaids plastered in all the right places on your feet so the heels hurt less, feeling a little more confident now that you know what to expect. You haven’t seen Jimin anywhere today, catching yourself craning your neck to look around. Even when the event started, there was still no sign of him. By 7.30PM, when the bidding starts and dinner is in full swing, your arm is starting to hurt and your feet are starting to cram up. You are walking around the floor, picking up empty glasses and used plates to clear the tables, carefully dumping them into a large basin at the back of the hall where the busboys will come and take them out when they’re full. That’s when you finally see him, dressed in an all white pristine suit, walking down the middle aisle towards a table, a lady in a matching golden and white sequined dress walking next to him, hand on his arm. They both take a seat, side by side, the lady leaning in to whisper something to him.

You start your round again, deliberately circling around the table adjacent to theirs, hands and feet moving automatically to pick up used dining wares as your eyes are glued to Jimin and his plus one. The bid continues on stage, currently over an eight by ten painting that started at ten thousand dollars. You watch as the lady, who looks to be in her late thirties or early forties with a beauty that’s classical, leans in again, whispers something in his ear that cracks a smile on his face. He nods and whispers something back. You notice how her arm is still resting on his upper arm, how he would sometimes brush over it lightly as she gives him a squeeze.

“Excuse me?!”

You look down at the woman whose half-full wine glass is in your hands. You put it back down, accidentally slamming it and making the wine slosh around dangerously. “What the hell?” she shrieks, standing up and gesturing at her glittery dress. “You got wine all over my dress! Do you know how much the dress cost?!”

You shrink, stepping away. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Here, let me help.” You pick up an unused napkin and try to dab at the spot she’s waving at but can’t seem to see anything wrong with it. She jumps back, raising her voice even more. “Don’t touch me! Where’s your manager? I’d like to make a complaint.”

You panic, unsure what to do, feeling the colours draining from your face. Your mind is blank and it feels like your lips are glued together to say anything, not even to apologise. The woman is still demanding a manager, making the people in the vicinity turn their heads, even some of the other servers, wondering what is going on, but you can’t quite hear her. You stand there, frozen and speechless, gaping like an idiot at the woman screaming in your face, right until you see someone in white comes over and talks to her. She finally calms down but before you can realise what’s happening, a hand is clasped strongly around your wrist and pulls you to the back.

In the service hallway, where the music is muffled, the loud booming voice of the auctioneer faint in the distance, your senses finally come flooding back. The tears pricked the corner of your eyes and as you see Jimin’s darkened face looming close, you turn away, hastily wiping them away.

“Just breathe,” he says, his voice low. “Breathe.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, sniffling the last snot, breathing in gulps. “Fuck, I should go back and apologise to her properly.”

His hand stops you. “It’s been taken care of.”

You take a few steadying breaths, clenching and unclenching your fists on your sides as you try to get a grip. You nod shakily. “Thanks. Look, I’ll pay for the damaged dress. You can take it out of my paycheck.”

“Of course,” he replies coolly. “That’s a given.”

Your heart sinks a little but you nod, accepting the consequence of your action.

Then he adds, “If it was actually damaged.”

You look up, not comprehending. “What do you mean?”

A small smile creeps up his lips. “Her dress is fine.”

“What? Really? But she was pissed!”

Jimin arches an eyebrow. “You made the mistake of picking up something she was still drinking and you did slam the glass down.”

“But it was an accident! I didn’t mean it,” you say, then pauses. “How did you know what I did?”

He looks a little taken aback but quickly recovers. “She told me. Plus, it’s common sense from what she wanted to complain about.” He fixes his tie then turns to head back inside. “Just stop slamming glasses down from now. And make sure you watch what you’re doing instead of staring at someone, why don’t you? I’m not cleaning up your mess again next time.”

You watch him leave, your mind barely processing what he said.

“What are you doing?” a voice barks from behind you. You jump, turning around to come face to face with the team leader. “Get back to work.”

***

The event ended later than scheduled so when you ran down the street to the bus stop, you manage to catch sight of the last bus disappearing around a corner.

“Fuck!” You kick at the curbside. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!”

You groan out loud, running your hands through your hair. The only good thing is that you brought a pair of sneakers to change to so at least your feet don't hurt so much. You take out your phone and dial Yuna’s number but the phone keeps on ringing until it goes into voicemail. She’s probably already asleep as her first class tomorrow is at eight o’clock. You groan again, trying to think of anyone else who you can ask to pick you up but having a small circle of friends, no name comes up. You open up Google Maps and check the distance to walk back home and find out it would take about forty-five minutes. Sighing, you start walking.

Not even five minutes, you hear the sound of a car gliding along next to you and without checking to look, you hasten your pace, pretending to be affixed to my phone screen, the emergency number ready on the dialpad.

“Not taking the bus today?”

At the familiar voice, you finally look up only to scowl again to see Jimin following you with his car. “Are you following me?”

He looks around, at the steering wheel, then back at you. “I think so. Isn’t it obvious? So why aren’t you taking the bus?”

You roll your eyes. “I missed it, the last one.”

“How come?”

“That’s a stupid question,” you remark. “Because the event ended later than when it was supposed to.”

“Why don’t you just drive? This thing is bound to happen in the future if you’re still with us.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Well, gee, why didn’t I think of that! If I just drive it’ll solve all of my problems.”

He doesn’t look amused. “Is it the you work for me thing and not the other way around? If so, I understand.” He has one hand on the wheel, glancing between the road and you. “Or maybe not since I am driving.”

You groan. “You’re a piece of work, y’know.”

“I’ve been told,” he replies lightly. “Are you getting in or not?”

You stop walking, staring at him. “Sorry, was there an invitation implied by your whole assholery?”

He shrugs. “I thought it was obvious. I mean I’m holding traffic to keep up with you.”

You look behind the car at the empty road and then back at him. “Right, I can see that.”

He sighs heavily. “Fucking hell, do you need an invitation? Fine, get in the damn car so I can take you home, your hindness.”

You glare at him. “Have you ever been told to fuck off?”

“It might not look like it but yes, yes I have.”

“Well, here’s another one. Fuck off.” You start to walk faster down the hill but the car keeps rolling at a slow and leisurely pace next to you and is he whistling? The radio is off, you know because the window is still rolled down. “You know,” he says again, “this area isn’t a good one. Lots of people getting jumped, robbed, killed. The stuff.”

You ignore him, the sound of your footsteps loud on the pavement but your heart is beating even louder now as you glance left and right at the low bushes lining the side of the road. It’s dark enough for anyone to be lying in wait for a helpless victim, especially one like you that fits all the right criterias; female, small, alone, have no self-defence skill whatsoever. But the idea of giving in to his arrogance makes your blood boil so you keep going, much to his frustration.

“Y/n l/n,” he calls in a voice that makes you stop dead in your tracks, your heart jumping in your throat as it triggers a childhood memory of being summoned after getting into trouble. “Get in the car. Right now.”

Almost as if compelled, you drag your feet over to the passenger side, stopping just outside. You look at him without saying anything as he locks eyes with you, his face stern. “Get in,” he reiterates in the same commanding tone. You open the door and get inside. When you finish buckling up, he drives off, the window whirring up to a close.

The drive home is a silent one. He doesn’t even bother to ask for your address, having it registered on his car already, which makes you wonder about it but don't ask. Your voice is stuck in your throat, too scared to tip him off even more so you remain quiet, hands clasped in between your legs. The radio is on but turned down low and from the corner of your eyes, you glance at how he has one hand on the wheel and the other on the middle armrest. He has taken off his suit jacket and loosened his tie just enough to undo the first button of his shirt, the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” the question pops out of you involuntarily as you suddenly remember the woman with her hand on his arm earlier.

“I don’t have one,” he replies shortly.

“What about that lady you were with?” you remind him, feeling a little tense that you even dare to ask.

“That’s none of your business.”

Silence.

Then, he says, “You’re much more obedient when I have to handle you like a child.”

You don’t answer, keeping your eyes on the road, your body coiling in as if ready in case he does something that requires you to have quick reflexes to protect yourself. But nothing happened. You remind yourself again that this is your boss, not your parents.

In your peripheral vision, you see him glance at you, watching you with eyes that make you feel assessed and gauged, like he’s looking for something that can give him a sign of what he’s curious about. “Are you in college?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“What are you studying?”

“Mass Communication.”

“What year?”

You lick your lips. “Junior. I got one more year and then an internship.”

“So you’re of age?”

Your eyebrows dip a little, turning your head just slightly to see his face. “What do you mean?”

He doesn’t answer but poses another question. “Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? Husband? Any partner whatsoever?”

You frown but shake your head. “No. Why?”

“Just curious,” he says but his tone is that of someone mulling over the information. You see your apartment building coming up and you grab your bag tighter around you. You hear him chuckle. “Ready to jump out of the car?”

You give him a scowl but your expression softens at the amused look on his face, the way his eyes twinkle in the darkness. As he puts the car in park, you wait for him to unlock the door. When he doesn’t, you look back at him questioningly.

“Say,” he starts, fingers drumming on the wheel, eyes looking up at the building up front. “Are you sticking around? With the job?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately. “I need the money. I suck at it but I’ll get better.”

He nods but almost as if he isn’t even hearing you. “Good. Are you an open person, y/n?”

You stare at him, trying to understand what he’s asking. “I like to think that I am?”

He nods again, the same faraway look in his eyes. “So if I say there are…other events only listed for our…more exclusive servers, would you be interested? Of course, the pay is double, sometimes triple the normal amount.”

You notice the red flags in the things he’s saying but the words double and triple stand out the most. You swallow then nod. “Yeah, I’d like to be involved. If it doesn’t clash with my class schedules, of course.”

He smirks. “No, don’t worry about that. You still have the freedom of choosing your own shifts.” He finally turns to look at you straight in the eyes and your breath hitches. “But, these events are strictly private. If you agree, you will be requested to sign an NDA first before the list is provided to you.”

Your curiosity is peaked and it is enough for you to nod your head. “Yeah, okay.”

He regards you for a few seconds, eyebrows stitching together like he’s not sure about you. But then he looks away, reaching over to open the glove compartment and pulling out an A4 brown envelope. He hands it to you. “This is the NDA and an agreement contract you need to adhere to should you agree to be our exclusive server. Read through everything, all the details, the fine prints. Sleep on it, really think about it. I don’t want my servers running out on me after signing the contracts. It’s a pain to chase them down to pay the penalty for contract breach.” He sighs heavily. “They always want their pay on time but when it's the reverse it becomes such a hassle.”

“How do I get it back to you?”

He gives you a long look before answering. “Scan it and email it back to me.” He takes out a card from his breast pocket and hands it over. “Not the work email. This one, my personal one. It’ll be delivered directly to me.”

You take the card and shove it in the front pocket of your bag. You go to open the envelope but he stops you with a hand on yours. Your knuckles feel like they might burst into flames from the contact. “Not now,” he says. When you’re inside.” He gestures to the apartment. You give him one last confused look before exiting the car. Like last time, he only drives off once he sees you through the upstairs window and you watch as he drives away.

Plopping down on the bed, your tiredness forgotten, you upend the content of the envelope into your lap. There are two documents; one an NDA, the other the agreement. You go through the latter, skimming through the first page easily. You pause on the second page, staring at the list of rules you had to adhere to. There are only three.

1. All exclusive events have their own designated rules. You must uphold and adhere to them as per requested.

2. All exclusive events have specific and strict dress codes that you must follow. Any deviation from the dress code will result in being sent home with no reimbursements or any payout.

3. All participants are bound by the NDA.

Any breach of these and the NDA will result in a penalty set by our law team. Any withdrawal from the agreement before the completion of the tenure will result in a penalty set by our law team.  A bonus of one year salary will be rewarded with a contract renewal.

The agreement is set to one year, dating from the day you sign the contract. You stare at the list of rules again, your gut screaming at you not to do it but can’t find anything in the writing that clearly states anything that can go against your own values, considering that you are free to choose your own events. You try to analyse the rules again; the first one is a given, any event has their own rules. Dress codes are normal, too, and the NDA is a binding contract that you understand perfectly well as a mass communication student. As much as you’re wondering what kind of event that requires NDAs, the lucrative money promised is much more enticing. It’s the kind of money you can never quite fathom.

Sleep on it, really think about it, his voice echoes in your head. But that amount of money, for someone like you, is something you don’t have to really think about, much less sleep on it. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity and you’re not going to let it get away just because of a gut feeling that could stem from paranoia or something else. You move to the desk, taking out a black pen in a mug in the corner. You scribble on a piece of paper first to check if the ink is working before taking the pen to the agreement contract first, signing your name and the date, before doing the same with the NDA. For some reason, your heart is hammering in your chest. You take out your phone and open the note application to scan the pages of both documents before opening your email.

As you key in his email address and paste in the scanned documents along with a short message, you stare at it for a good minute. You take a deep breath and press send, the whooshing sound signalling that the email is sent. You sit there, frozen, as if you’re waiting for the whole apartment to cave in on itself or the world to stop spinning but nothing happens as it always never does. Shrugging, you crawl into bed, not even bothering to shower first, content that your first class tomorrow isn’t until noon. You fall asleep almost immediately.

~~~

Across town, in a penthouse in one of the largest buildings in the city, the CEO of JP Foods & Services opens up the new email that just dinged on his phone, smirking to himself to see the documents he just passed not even two hours ago signed and delivered. He flags the email for printing later.

Barefoot and shirtless, he pads silently over to the second unoccupied bedroom. Well, it’s supposed to be unoccupied, he lives alone after all. But not tonight. Tonight he has a guest. He pushes open the door and steps into the dimly lit room, approaching the four-poster bed that creaks with every move the tied, naked woman makes. She’s spread-eagled with not a single thread on her, hair tied up in a ponytail to keep them off her face. The room is silent except for the vibration sound coming from between her legs.

He sits on the bed and runs the back of his hand on the side of her face as she leans into his touch. She looks up at him. “So? Did she sign it?”

He smiles. “I guess you’ll be meeting up with her more often now, Jodie.”

She grins back before moaning. “Jimin, please. I think I’ve been a good girl for long enough.”

His face darkens, pulling away his hand. “I told you not to call me that.”

She pouts. “I’m sorry, sajangnim. Please?”

As he takes out the leather paddle, as he unzips his pants and lets it fall to his knees, as he spreads Jodie’s legs even wider, taking out the vibrator from her well-trained ass, he closes his eyes and pictures your face. As he sinks into her, as he feels her clenches around him, as he hears her scream his name with every resounding smack of the paddle, he imagines it’s you. Not long now, he thinks, just a little while longer before I have you begging at my feet to ruin you more.

:MASTERLIST:

[earnestly-endlessly]

Could you please rec cherik fics where they still have powers but being mutant is well accepted? (Kind of like the Daycare Verse by brillingspoons) THANK U SO MUCH YOURE INCREDIBLE

Hi anon, of course I have a list for you. I am so sorry for the delay. I have been super busy lately with work and home renovations, but I’m back and I have a looong list for you. Now, the nature of x-men as a parallel of the very real fight of minority groups for civil rights makes it pretty hard to find fics where everyone accepts mutants.That’s actually why I love the x-men, because they represent the fight of those who are ostracised. So, some of these might have some social commentary, but the main focus does not lie there. Also, if you love the Daycare Verse check out pocky_slash’s fics (who actually wrote the majority of the Daycare Verse). 

------

Cherik ´Still Have Powers Modern AU´ Fic Recs

irreconcilable differences (make for surprisingly good bedfellows) – pocky_slash

Summary: Tonight on The Evening Report with Malcolm Stevens, noted geneticist and mutant equality proponent Dr. Charles Xavier faces off with the infamous mutant rights activist Magneto in a live televised debate over the Genetic Nondiscrimination Act.

(At least, if they can stop flirting long enough to stay on topic.)

Words and Pictures – pocky_slash

Summary: When Lorna's powers manifest early, Charles Xavier's mutant picture books are the perfect teaching tool. Erik just hadn't expected the author to be so young. Or attractive. Or available.

For the Record – endingthemes

Summary: As prominent figures in the mutant rights movement, activists Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are pretty much household names. When a romance scandal between them breaks, their celebrity reaches new heights, and though the increased exposure is great, there’s a big problem -- the two of them are just friends.

Too bad no one believes them.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

(Another segment of this series is posted under the Cookie Cutter fic collection - thanks again, Takmarierah!)

Impulse Decisions – listerinezero

Summary: Erik wakes up in Las Vegas with a hell of a hangover, a telepath in his bed, and a ring on his finger. Now what?

You Show Me Yours - endingthemes

Summary: When Erik receives nudes in the middle of the night from an unknown number, he's confused and mildly amused. He doesn't expect it to turn into an actual conversation...with feelings.

As if that's not baffling enough, his friend's brother ends up crashing at his place, further complicating everything.

Some Such Place (The Big Screen Classics Remix) - Pocky_Slash

Summary: Erik's spent the last eighteen months having lengthy socio-political conversations and casual sex with Charles Xavier after seeing Monday matinees at a dingy little independent movie theatre in the Village. That doesn't mean they're friends. Or that Erik should have any say in what Charles is going to do with his future.

(At least, that's what Erik keeps telling himself.)

Into Your Tar, Honey  - tomato_greens

Summary: Really, Alex doesn’t know why he’s in the damn class.

(Or, the one in which Charles teaches an online Introduction to Biology course, and Alex reads more than he expected to.)

Heli Cases - Black_Betty

Summary: "Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces.

It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep.

(Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)

Bound - FuryRed

Summary: Is there anything worse than someone else’s wedding? Well, perhaps your sister’s wedding- where the groom just has to invite his boss and that man just happens to be your ex-boyfriend; a person you had an extremely passionate and tumultuous relationship with that ended badly.

Charles hadn’t seen Erik for a year by the time Raven had told him about the wedding. He wasn’t looking forward to the occasion, particularly when Raven explained that they would be celebrating the event with a two-week extravaganza at a luxury hotel, meaning that Charles would be forced to spend a whole fortnight with the man who he’d given everything to; the man who had ultimately broken his heart…

An Exercise in Frustration – ikeracity

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr's latest critically-acclaimed film Shame features a full-frontal nudity scene. His long-suffering husband Charles is really very peeved about it.

Eyes on Fire - Black_Betty

Summary: Every once in a while, fashion tycoon Emma Frost invites her favourite male models over to entertain her. And by "entertain", I mean she makes them have kinky consensual sex in front of her....Emma never touches herself when she watches, but she always has a glass of wine with her. Emma likes it best when they eventually forget that she's watching.

Charles and Erik meet each other through Emma...

(I've taken some liberties with the prompt, but all the sex is still there, and it's wholly consensual...and gradually, becomes more than just sex...)

Order Up - ikeracity

Summary: Charles has a terrible habit of multitasking, and that is probably why he absentmindedly tells the pizza man that he loves him when hanging up.

Then the pizza man says it back. And Charles is pretty much smitten from there.

Some Assembly Required - manic_intent

Summary: "Alex and Hank were two teenagers who frequently fight in school. One fight got so bad that the principal called in their fathers (as both came from single-parent families)/ guardians for a conference. This was how Charles and Erik meet."

Limited Release - rageprufrock

Summary: When Alex Summers broke out of supermax to rescue his stupid kid brother, he had no idea it was going to be so fucking complicated.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

It’s kind of our whole thing – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

PART 2 of Math Reasons

A Nice Boy (The Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

apple season – pocky_slash

Summary: "You know," Charles says while they're sitting around the kitchen table reading the paper, "You should take Anya apple picking."

"Don't you mean 'we?'" Erik responds. The silence that follows is enough to make him re-examine his own apple picking memories a little more closely. Uneven ground littered with apples, tree roots, holes, and narrow passage between rows of orchard trees. "Oh," he says.

rooms/shares – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik is single, working a cube job he hates, letting his master's degree in mutant studies collect dust, and living on his best friend's couch. When she kicks him out, he's forced to trawl Craigslist for the least-offensive rooming option within his meagre budget. He never expects a response from the persnickety, high maintenance ad he replies to as a joke, but it's possible this too-nice apartment and mysteriously absent roommate might be the answer to all four of his problems.

Continue firm and constant – aesc

Summary: Moira hasn't seen her old partner in saving the world from threats human and intergalactic, Erik Lehnsherr, for a few years. When she finally does see him again, she finds a man different from the one who's been with her down in the dark and the dirt and the blood... or maybe he isn't so different after all.

Tough little baby telepath – aesc, pearl_o

Five Part Series

Summary: Teenage telepath Charles Xavier takes a job as a consultant, working with prickly police detective Erik Lehnsherr. Charles is used to being on his own and taking care of himself; he has no reason to think that his relationship with this stern, icy man is going to change any of that.

Frosted hearts – aesc, palalife

Summary: Emma Frost has 99 problems, but a date ain't one. Specifically, she has no time to play the dating game--which is fine with her, because she'd much rather run it instead. From a set of sleek, silver and white offices on Fifth Avenue and with her trusty, stylish, and silent partner Janos Quested, Emma has built Frosted Hearts into New York City's premiere dating service, built on the principle that money, and a sufficiently rigorous psionic scan, can, in fact, buy you love.

Somewhere in Frosted Hearts's server is one Charles Xavier, genius and geneticist, with the kind of nicely-starched good looks that sell well on brochures for New England prep schools. He's also a telepath who's decided to give up pursuing serious relationships and instead spend his thirties doing what he should have done as a teenager: have a lot of sex with random people. Fortunately for him, Erik Lehnsherr, metallokinetic and engineering executive, has absolutely no time in his heart or his schedule for anything more serious than... well, absolutely nothing romantic at all.

Mercy of the Fallen (the AirDrop Security Update 2.0) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr feels defined by his past sins and after years of acting against his own moral compass, he's finally struck out on his own. He's his own boss now, and determined to work hard to help the mutant community and make up for years of doing someone else's dirty work.

Complicating this is Charles Xavier, mutant advocate, genetics professor, unfairly attractive telepath, and owner of the coffee shop below Erik's office. Erik may not think he deserves to be a part of the community he's thrown himself into helping, but Charles has other ideas on the matter, and he's determined to do everything in his power to make Erik see himself as a force for good.

you follow and i’ll lead – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: When Charles discovers how frustrated and self-conscious his best friend Erik is about his ignorance about sex, he's eager to volunteer to help teach him and practice. Charles might not have any more direct experience than Erik, but he does have a telepath's mind full of accidentally picked-up fantasies and memories, as well as knowledge of a few dirty books - and more importantly, he's been madly in love with Erik for years. This seems like a brilliant, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that he can't pass up.

Now he just needs to manage to keep his feelings in check, and not ruin their friendship forever.

Snail Mail – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex isn't thrilled when his boss, Erik, starts sending him to hand deliver notes to Erik's husband up at the university--that is, until he sees the Professor's hot new TA, and suddenly, the notes can't come fast enough. If only Alex could work up the guts to ask him out....

this is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

Summary: Edie Lehnsherr came into Charles' life long before he ever heard Erik Lehnsherr's name, and her death left a gaping hole in the lives of everyone in Charles' family. As the first Purim without her approaches, he begins to get creative in his efforts to bring everyone out of their grief. Kitchen creativity, however, is not quite his strength....

Watching the Detectives – Clocks

Summary: Detectives Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are good friends and colleagues. However, when they go undercover at a Christmas party to nab a prime suspect, Erik keeps reminding himself to stay professional and ignore feelings of unexpected jealousy.

Student/Teacher Relations – PoorMedea

Summary: As a TA, Charles knows he can't get involved in all his students' lives. He needs to keep professional boundaries, to make sure that he's an authority figure. But when he accidentally finds out how complicated Erik Lehnsherr's home life is, he suddenly finds that distance hard to maintain.

Fill for the prompt: Erik is the teen dad of adorable baby!Lorna. I just want teen!Erik being a dad, with adorable interactions between him and his baby. Angst is good too since there's always going to be some in such situations, but mainly I want to see teen dad Erik being an awesome dad who loves the hell out of his daughter despite whatever else may be going on.

Conspiracy of Kisses – Alaceron

Summary: Seven-year-old Erik needs to keep his telepathic best friend Charles from finding out that he wants to kiss him. But that's okay, because he has a plan - he'll put on a tinfoil hat.

Favorite Mistake – endingthemes

Summary: Charles Xavier doesn��t think anything of it when he sneaks out without even saying goodbye to his latest one-night stand. What he doesn’t expect is to walk into his new position in the Xavier Industries marketing department and find that his latest hook-up is now his new boss.

Never Take Biology for Granite – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: Charles is an internet celebrity who garners his fame from posting educational, in-depth videos about a different animal every week, though for some reason his viewers are always more interested in his sex life with his geologist husband, Erik, who happens to frown heavily upon all living things.

Except for Charles, of course, whom he's missed these past couple days while attending a geologic convention--though considering the subject material of Charles' newest video, he's wishing he would've stayed away longer.

This Is Not Comedy – baehj2915

Summary: Written for amarriageoftrueminds' prompt for a Cherik version of Louis CK's tangent about the fuckability of Ewan McGregor.

Naturally the similarities end there. I made this about Erik's full on public lust-filled gay revelation, and the chaos that spirals from there.

Snowed In – dedkake

Summary: Charles and Erik have a one night stand, but a blizzard traps them in Erik's apartment afterward.

[radramblog]

The default Microsoft XP Games

This evening I have decided to write some nonsense. It’s my god-given right to bullshit, and a gift I’ve been cultivating for years. Also because I’m tired and have other things to be spending precious brainpower on.

After pondering some ideas, some silly, some sillier, I landed on this. The original plan was to go through the Google Doodle games, but A. I couldn’t find a repository of them in the approximately one minute I tried looking, and B. There’s probably, like, a lot of them. Plus, XP was the OS of the family computer when I was a kid, so you bet your ass I tried these out. Er, most of them. Because when you’re a 6-year-old looking for shit to do and the edutainment well is running a little dry, you turn to some odd places. So I have little a nostalgia, as a treat.

Okay so, first on the list is….a bunch of Internet games. Backgammon, Checkers, Hearts, Reversi, and Spades. Now, I’ve heard of most of these in board/card game form (dunno what Spades is), but it’s hard to give these any sort of love because… you know… I didn’t play them. At all, ever. Kid me wasn’t going to be able to figure out how to get an online game running in 2004, let alone sign up for an account or even connect to the internet when we had dialup. At the same time, I imagine these would have ended up kinda popular, because hey- loads of people have nostalgia for the default games, and these were ones you could play with other people! I’m surprised they didn’t have Chess on there, actually.

They really looked like that, huh.

Anyway, you can’t play any of these anymore, the server support ended in….2019?! Who the fuck was running the XP Internet Checkers service in 2019? That’s a full 10 years after updates and support for the OS actually stopped. Why did it take so long to shut down these random servers?

Moving on, we have Hearts. A…local version of the Internet Hearts, I suppose. This is one I definitely remember attempting to play as a kid, but apparently I never tried reading the actual instructions. Or if I did, I sure couldn’t parse them. I just remember losing a lot, a streak I have clearly continued, as I sure have still yet to Get Good At Games. I’m going to be honest, I probably can’t be bothered figuring them out now. Even if I did, who am I going to play with? You need 4 players for this game, exactly, and I have a hard enough time getting 3 other people to play Magic with.

Next thing, going very alphabetically here, is Freecell. The other one I never figured out. At least with hearts, I could make moves, pretend like I was playing the game, but I’m pretty sure with Freecell I just never actually figured out how to start the game. After a brief moment of research, it appears to be a Solitare variant (oh we’ll get to you), and considering I’ve never heard it brought up elsewhere, it’s probably not a very popular one. Something to be said about messing with what works. According to good old fashioned Wikipedia, it’s a version where almost every single theoretically possible hand is winnable, which is nice, but I’m sure most people are still going to cock it up.

Speaking of Solitaire variants, might as well bring up Spider. I definitely actually figured out how to play this one at some point, likely a result of having figured out regular Solitaire. It is, however, much more complicated, I believe, what with using more than one deck and just having stacks of stacks. This also makes it more difficult, and thereby, more frustrating- apparently as opposed to Freecell this one has approximately a 1 in 3 winrate if you know what you’re doing, and I don’t really like those odds. Of course, apparently regular Solitaire (aka Klondike, but most people call it Solitaire because of Microsoft) is even worse, so.

Remind we why this is called Spider again?

Finally the big one, Regular Fucking Solitaire. Known by many names- Patience, American Patience, Demon Patience, and Triangle. Wikipedia, what the fuck?

I think at this point Solitaire is not just iconic of XP, but of Windows in general. Perhaps I’m showing my age a bit here, since I’m sure it was in a version of the OS long before I showed up to give it a shot, but obviously its what I know it from. Aside from just the game itself, even the victory screen itself is well remembered, cards duplicating and cascading across the screen. I don’t know who programmed that, or who decided it should be a thing, but they made a good choice- it’s incredibly satisfying.

Solitaire is just kind of really satisfying. It’s a simple enough puzzle, with a huge amount of potential depth and billions of possible combinations, making it kind of the perfect timewaster. Did they know what they were doing when they added it to Windows in the first place? Imagine how much productivity that decision cost offices worldwide.

Nahh, those fuckers weren’t getting up to anything anyway.

There are two games remaining to talk about, and we might as well get Minesweeper out of the way. I don’t know why, but I never really got into Minesweeper. Just bounced right off of it. Actually, in retrospect, it’s probably because 1. I didn’t know what I was doing, and B., even when I did figure it out, I definitely took a while to figure out the right click -> flag mine input. The game is not especially appealing to kids when you don’t have that sorted, and honestly, I’m not sure it gets much better when you do.

Finally, the last and clearly best game on the list, motherfucking  3D Pinball Space Cadet. Apparently this is actually one map included as a demo for an actual buyable game with a whole 3 boards, but I can’t imagine anyone buying it. For one, it’d have to be pretty cheap to make that worth it, especially since we already have one for free- and yeah, we have a third of it already, who needs to buy it.

I’ve always really enjoyed Pinball, even if I’m not very good at it. I’m not the type to obsess over it, or get competitive like people apparently do. I just really enjoy it, and would love to have my own table someday. And I think this game is the cause.

Unlike the previous entries on this list, 3D Pinball feels more like an actual game rather than a timewaster. It has art, and sound effects, and flashing lights and everything. Those sound effects are absolutely burned into my brain at this point. Considering only it and Minesweeper aren’t existing things you could already do with playing cards (or in the case of the Internet series, various boards), they’re the only ones you can really apply video game design philosophy to.

And the result I think is fairly interesting. 3D Pinball, despite having the full power of early 2000s processing at its fingertips, plays much like an actual machine as compared to other Pinball-based video games. One could argue this is a result of its default inclusion- too much Stuff would alienate the gentile audience they were going for, after all. The choice of Space Cadet as a theme suits well the 3D design- both three-dimensional games and, well, Space travel felt similarly ambitious for a while, and I’m sure this game was a lot of people’s introductions to 3D on a PC.

I don’t think this game has had the longevity of Solitaire and Minesweeper in the greater public eye- likely a result of them being around for longer and available in more than three versions of Windows- but for those around my age, who grew up on XP and were attracted to the shiny thing, I could argue it’s just as memorable.

And that’s the full listing. A bit hit or miss, but you have to keep in mind that these were both free and developed by Microsoft before they really had a games studio. These days, what with Xbox, Microsoft not making games really seems odd to think about, but outside of a limited few like these, that was just the facts.

And then they went and made some really weird ones for Vista and 7, and they weren’t good (except Mahjong but they didn’t really make that so much as port it), and then for Windows 8/10 they made them downloadable and…put ads on them….

Man, bring me back to those days, huh.

[ceealaina]

Title: Computer Love Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Artificial Intelligence Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Steve Versus Technology, Get Together, Smut Summary: A spam email and a misunderstanding from Steve lead to him accidentally revealing something very surprising. Word Count: 6228

Contrary to popular belief, Steve had adapted to technology wonderfully. As far as he was concerned, microwaves were the greatest things ever invented, right after the internet and computers. He still used physical newspapers, but it was mostly just to drive Tony crazy. He could use a tablet and his phone without even thinking, and loved the array of information and music and games that were instantly available at his fingertips. And he could spend hours binge-watching tv shows and movies. 

What took a lot more getting used to was people. The way they interacted now was different. It had taken him probably too long to realize that men especially didn’t stand as close, didn’t touch the same way — except for Tony, who was as touchy feely as they came. He’d apologized, once, but Steve had told him he didn’t mind, that he appreciated that easy, friendly, physical intimacy that he’d thought he’d lost in the 40s, and since then Tony had made a point of touching him, probably more often that he did anyone else. 

Other interactions hadn’t been so easy. 

So when Steve woke up one morning, and found the email in his work inbox -- from his own email address -- he had a brief heart attack. 

Hello!

I have very bad news for you. on this day I hacked your OS and got full access to your account xxxxxxxxxx

So, you can change the password, yes… But my malware intercepts it every time. 

How I made it:

In the software of the router, through which you went online, was a vulnerability. I just hacked this router and placed my malicious code on it. When you went online, my trojan was installed on the OS of your device. 

After that, I made a full dump of your disk (I have all your address book, history of viewing sites, all files, phone numbers and addresses of all your contacts). 

A month ago, I wanted to lock your device and ask for a not big amount of btc to unlock. But I looked at the sites that you regularly visit, and I was shocked by what I saw!!!

I’m talk you about sites for adults. 

I want to say - you are a BIG pervert. Your fantasy is shifted far away from the normal course!

And I did an idea… I made a screeshot of the adult sites where you have fun (do you understand what it is about, huh?). After that, I made a screenshot of your joys (using the camera of your device) and glued them together. Turned out amazing! You are so spectacular

I’m know that you would not like to show these screenshots to your friends, relatives or colleagues. I think 51551 is a very, very small amount for my silence. 

Besides, I have been spying on you for so long, having spent a lot of time!

Pay ONLY in Bitcoins!

My BTC wallet: 182pjesSewBUj8PEgfM58p64jbok3i1gNU

You do not know how to use bitcoins? Enter a query in any search engine: “how to replenish btc wallet”. It’s extremely easy

For this payment I give you two days (48 hours). As soon as this letter is opened, the timer will work. 

After payment, my virus and dirty screenshots with your enjoys will be self-destruct automatically. If I do not receive from you the specified amount, then your device will be locked, and all your contacts will receive a screenshots with your “enjoys”.

I hope you understand your situation.

Do not try to find and destroy my virus! (All your data, files and screenshots is already uploaded to a remote server)

Do not try to contact me (this is not feasible, I sent you an email from your account)

Various security services will not help you; formatting a disk or destroying a device will not help, since your data is already on a remote server. 

P.S. You are not my single victim. so, I guarantee you that I will not disturb you again after payment! This is the word of honor hacker

I also ask you to regularly update your antiviruses in the future. This way you will no longer fall into a similar situation. 

Do not hold evil! I just do my job. Good luck. 

“Oh shiiit,” Steve breathed. 

It wasn’t that he had any problem with porn, or his own sexual proclivities. He had known he was attracted to both men and women since before Captain America was even a thought in anyone’s mind, and he felt exactly zero shame about that. He had, in fact, been just waiting for a Republican broadcaster to bring it up so he could announce his bisexuality in the most satisfying way possible. The increase in acceptance of different sexualities was one of his other favourite things about the future. 

But that didn’t mean he wanted everyone getting full frontal shots of him jerking off. 

He knew, logically, that it happened these days. He had watched exactly thirteen seconds of Tony’s sex tape before realizing that oh shit, it was real and snapping his laptop shut. But he didn’t think he could handle it quite so well -- he lacked both Tony’s sense of self-confidence, and his utter lack of shame. And he was Captain America, he was meant to be a role model, there were certain things people expected of him. 

And then there was the whole other aspect of the Captain America issue. If they’d managed to hack his personal email, who knew what other sensitive information they might have come across in the process. 

A feeling of panic starting to pool in his stomach, he hopped out of bed. Pausing just long enough to pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt, he grabbed his tablet and made a dash for the lab. 

Tony was elbows-deep in some circuitry, although he seemed to have been expecting Steve, giving him a quick glance and a warm smile as Steve burst into the room. 

“Nice outfit, Cap,” he told him, and Steve glanced down to realize his shirt was inside out and his sweatpants were on backwards. “What can I do for you?” 

“Uhh.” Now that he was here, Steve wasn’t entirely sure how to explain. “I could use your… Technical expertise?” he tried, tightening his grip slightly on the tablet. “It’s sort of sensitive. And time sensitive too, for that matter.”

That, apparently, intrigued Tony enough to finish up what he was doing and give Steve his full attention. “What’s up?” he asked, taking in Steve’s harried appearance. “You okay?” 

“Yeah. I mean… I think so?” Steve sighed and held out his tablet, holding it like it might explode at any moment. “I got this email this morning,” he said, deciding it would be easier to let Tony read it for himself, rather than trying to stumble his way through an explanation. “It came from my own account.”

Tony arched an eyebrow, but he looked more curious than concerned. His eyes flickered as he read over the screen, and he couldn’t have been more than a few seconds in before he started laughing. A little nonplussed, Steve folded his arms across his chest, frown creasing his forehead as Tony kept laughing over the email. 

“Oh god, this is priceless,” he choked out. “The spelling! ‘A screenshot of your joys!’” There were actual tears in Tony’s eyes, he was laughing so hard, and Steve was starting to get a little offended now. “Oh god, and then trying to convince you at the end that he’s actually a good guy, and not to hate him.” Tony actually snorted, wiping tears from his eyes as he set the tablet down on a table. “Oh man. Thanks, Steve, you big pervert.” He giggled again. “It’s been a day. Or, uh…” He glanced somewhat guiltily at the clock. “Night, I guess. I really needed that.”

“Uhh… Okay.” Steve watched as Tony walked back over to his project. “But what are we going to do about it?” 

“Do about it?” Tony repeated, looking utterly confused for a minute before his eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, Steve, it’s not real.” 

His voice was kind, but something about it made Steve feel squirmy and uncomfortable, embarrassed by his own ignorance. “What do you mean it’s not real?” he asked.

“It’s a scam, Steve. It wasn’t even sent from a real person. It’s just a real basic AI, and an automated message.”

“But it came from my account?” Steve hated that it came out as a question. 

“It’s a spoof; it didn’t really come from your account, the program just makes it look like it did.” 

Steve felt his eyes go wide. “They can do that?” 

“Pretty easily, actually, if you know what you’re doing.” 

Steve picked up the tablet again, frowning down at it. He felt silly now, but still couldn’t help being a little worried. Tony had just written it off so quickly. What if he was wrong? 

Tony sighed, coming around to stand beside him. “Look, Steve, just read it over. The writing is a mess. It’s barely comprehensible in some places.” 

“Not everyone gets to go to some fancy-ass finishing school, Tony,” Steve pointed out, sounding grumpier than he’d really intended. “Their grasp of the English language doesn’t mean it’s not legit.” 

“Okay,” Tony acknowledged, obviously starting to get frustrated in response to Steve’s tone. “But Steve… a ‘vulnerability in the router?’ Who has two thumbs and personally designed every bit of technology in this joint to make sure it would be completely secure?” He pointed to himself with both thumbs. “This guy! For fuck’s sake, Steve, your work computer doesn’t even have a webcam. How would they even get these screenshots?”

“Well, I don’t know, Tony,” Steve snapped back, once again opening his mouth without thinking. “You’ve got a robot butler, alright? Someone secretly taping me jerking off to Iron Man porn could definitely happen.” 

For a moment, Steve didn’t even realize what he’d said, glaring mutinously down at the email. But Tony’s lack of a snappy response grew suspicious, and Steve looked up to find Tony staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, mouth hanging open. 

“I’m sorry. You jerk off to what now?”

“Uhh,” Steve cleared his throat, doing his best to give off an appearance of nonchalance. “You know, I just meant in like a… General sense of the meaning.” He was pretty sure the blush he could feel setting his cheeks on fire was giving him away. 

“Right,” Tony said, tilting his head as he eyed him consideringly. He leaned back against a table, crossing his legs at the ankles and folding his arms across his chest. “So you only jerk off to Iron Man porn in a general sense.” 

“Yes,” Steve said with confidence that he didn’t feel. “Wait, no! I don’t jerk off to Iron Man porn. I just meant that… someone could… jerk off to Iron Man porn.” 

“Oh, I see.” Tony nodded sagely, but he was openly grinning at him now. “You were referring to the general me, and not the specific me.”

Steve glared, but it was lacking in heat. “I know you’re just making fun of me,” he grumbled. Tony gave him a pointed look in return, like he deserved it. “Look, you’re very…” He gesticulated wildly at Tony, trying to encompass everything he was. “You. And then the suits are amazing pieces of technology, and the way they move and…” 

“Huh.” Tony licked his lip almost nervously, before a shit-eating smirk crossed his lips. “So is that why you spend so much time hanging out with me down here? Perving on my suits and storing up images for the spank bank?”

“No!” Steve burst out. “No, of course not. I’m here because I enjoy spending time with you!”

Tony’s eyebrow arched, tongue flicking out again. It was very distracting. “So then is it Iron Man porn you’re watching, or Tony Stark porn?” 

Steve’s eyes went wide. “There’s Tony Stark porn??” he demanded, before realizing that his voice probably came out just a little too enthused at that prospect. “I mean, uh… Like you were in a blue film, or…?” He trailed off as he suddenly realized what Tony probably meant.

“Uhh.” Tony’s expression was difficult to read. “Well, I was just talking about the knock off pornos, some guy with a business suit and a poorly maintained goatee banging a bunch of blondes. But, uh.” He rubbed at his eyebrow. “There were some definite lapses in judgment, when I was younger. Some tapes I made when I was too… inebriated to think the better of it, and had extremely poor taste in partners. They’re probably still floating around the internet, if you take the safe search off.”

It was said flippantly, but Steve spent a lot of time watching Tony. He could see the slight edge to his smile, the twist of his ankle that meant he actually was a little embarrassed, even if he was playing it off. 

“It’s Iron Man,” Steve told him quickly. “It’s definitely Iron Man. Something about that suit… I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly.

“Ah, well then.” Tony was still grinning, wide and bright, but for just an instant it seemed like his eyes had dimmed slightly. “Remind me to adjust your permissions so you’re not allowed down here alone, huh?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Tony.” 

Tony waggled his eyebrows at him, laughing, but he was turning away and it felt like something had shifted between them. Steve couldn’t help feeling like he was disappointed, somehow. He couldn’t get a read on him, but Tony had been licking his lips an awful lot and, well. Steve had always been a bit of an insufferable idealist.

“I mean,” he started, before he could talk himself out of it. “I also didn’t know that Tony Stark was an option, so… That might change things, a little… Now…” 

Tony had gone still, his back a straight line, and with a sinking feeling Steve started to wonder if he’d gotten it entirely wrong. 

“I mean, um. Unless that makes you uncomfortable, in which case… I mean, I would never violate your privacy and look at your tapes, but if even the idea freaks you out, I just…” He winced as Tony turned around again, openly grinning at him again. “I just mean if it freaks you out we can forget I ever said anything,” he finished lamely. He could feel his skin growing hotter and he heaved out a sigh before burying his face in his hands. “Don’t suppose you have a built-in feature that let’s the floor open up and swallow me whole?” he mumbled into his skin. 

“No,” Tony told him, and there was laughter in his voice. “But I’ll get to work on that right away.” 

Steve just nodded, still hiding his face as he waited for the flaming heat of his skin to die down a little. Before it did though, Tony was kicking his ankle. 

“Hey. Steve, you’re fine. I’m not mad. I’m really, really not mad.” 

Steve nodded again, finally lifting his head back up although he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Tony directly. “Right, well. I’m going to quit the team and become a vigilante instead. Maybe make my own costume… I’ve always liked blue and yellow.” 

He made no actual attempt to leave though, couldn’t seem to manage to remove himself from Tony’s orbit. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tony chewing at his lip. 

“You know,” Tony said after a minute. “I never actually told anyone this, not even Rhodey — don’t know why, we were dating for fuck’s sake. But uh.” He shook his head, realizing he was distracted. “When I was a kid, I had this vintage Captain America poster on my wall?” 

Steve's head snapped over to look at him, feeling his breath catch in his chest. Tony shook his head, grinning a little foolishly. 

“Come on, Steve. You know where I’m going with this.”

Steve shrugged, grinning at him helplessly. “Tell me anyway.” 

Meeting his eyes, Tony kept perfect eye contact as he continued. “So when I was a little older, I started getting these urges…” He smirked when Steve rolled his eyes. “Spent a lot of nights jerking off to that poster, Steve. Fantasizing about, well… You. And honestly? Not a lot has changed since then.” He pushed off the table he was leaning against, moving forward. Steve’s heart stopped as Tony stalked toward him until he was close enough that Steve could practically feel his breath on his lips. “Tony Stark is definitely an option,” he breathed.

For a moment silence hung between them, heavy as Tony waited for Steve to make the next move. And then all at once Steve surged forward, hands curling tight around Tony’s hips as he yanked him up tight against his body. He’d probably used a little more force that was strictly necessary, but judging by the way Tony’s eyes darkened, and the soft, breathy noise he made, he didn’t mind in the slightest. Steve hesitated only a moment longer, eyes locked with Tony’s, before he leaned in to kiss him. It was gentle at first, a little tentative, but then Tony made another soft, needy noise, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from reacting, pushing the kiss deeper, licking along the seam of Tony’s lips until he opened up for him, kissing him until Tony was out of breath and pulling back with heavy panting breaths. 

They stood there, grinning goofily at each other for a ridiculously long minute before Tony finally cleared his throat. “So, Cap? Did I measure up to all your fantasies?”

“More than,” Steve told him quickly, not even giving it a second thought. “Jesus Christ, Tony.” His hands flexed on Tony’s hips, and then he was drawing him in for another kiss, feeling his knees go a little weak as he felt Tony’s cock hardening against his thigh. 

“Um.” Tony was looking a little flushed when they pulled away again, and Steve delighted in the fact. “No pressure, if you’re not up for it.” He snickered then, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder for a minute as he got his ridiculous laugh under control. “Metaphorically speaking, since I can tell part of you is very up for it.” He emphasized this with a purposeful grind of his leg against Steve’s dick and Steve groaned in exasperation even as he nearly choked at the sensation. “What is it I see in you again?” 

Tony beamed at him, and then his hands were curling around the back of Steve’s neck, dragging him down for another kiss that had Steve seeing stars. 

“That,” he told him smugly, and Steve couldn’t even argue. “But as I was saying, if you want, we could, uh… See how many more of your fantasies we can bring to life?” 

He was waggling his eyebrows like an absolute idiot, but there was also something soft and tentative and a little nervous in his expression. It cleared a moment later, when Steve nodded his head so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Yeah, that uh… That sounds good. Please.” 

Tony’s grin grew impossibly wider, and then he was turning around, heading for the far corner of the lab. “Normally I’d try to impress you with my incredible view and high thread count sheets,” he said, glancing over a shoulder and snickering when he caught Steve blatantly checking out the bounce of his ass. “But uh… You’ve already seen all that, and I honestly don’t think I can stand to wait long enough to get you upstairs.” He plopped himself down on the side of the cot he kept down there, legs spread wide, and crooked his fingers at Steve. “C’mere, baby.” 

Steve eyed the cot skeptically. “I don’t think that’s gonna hold us,” he told him, although it didn’t stop him from practically sprinting over to join him. 

“Relax, handsome. It’s reinforced for Iron Man. We’ll be just fine. It’s science.”

Steve was skeptical about this particular brand of ‘science’ but Tony was leaning back against the mattress now, arching an eyebrow at him enticingly. His t-shirt had rucked up a little, revealing a deliciously tanned bit of skin at his hip, and the image was too good to resist. Steve moved forward until he was kneeling on the mattress, straddling Tony’s hips and looming over him. Tony licked his lips, staring up at him with wide eyes, and Steve leaned down to kiss him, groaning as their upper bodies pressed together.

“Fuck,” he cursed, couldn’t stop himself from grinding down against him, toes curling at the pressure on his cock. “Jesus, Tony. Wanted this for so long.” 

Tony bit his lip, looking absolutely delighted, and then he was leaning back until he was flat on his back, spreading his legs to make room for Steve in between them. He curled a hand in Steve’s wrinkled t-shirt and tugged at it. “This? Needs to come off.” 

“You first,” Steve told him, trying to at least pretend like he was cool.

Tony arched an eyebrow, looking like he was considering arguing just on the principle of it, but then he relented, sitting up a little to haul his t-shirt up over his head. He didn’t give Steve time to look before he was grabbing at the hem of his shirt too, yanking until Steve shifted enough to let him pull it off over his head, leaving his hair rumpled and messy. Tony grinned at him, combing it back from his hair in a surprisingly soft gesture. Then his eyes were drifting lower, catching somewhere around Steve’s nipples.

“Christ, look at you,” he mumbled. His hips rocked up and Steve groaned, fingers clenching against Tony’s hips, grinding down against him again. 

“Tony,” he gasped, head tipping forward to press against his shoulder. Tony huffed out a low laugh, and he slid a hand down Steve’s chest, tracing the lines of his pecs and making Steve pant into his skin. “Tony,” he said again. “Shit, I’m —,”

“Yeah?” Tony asked. He sounded like he was smirking. “Feel good?” 

Steve nodded, unable to put into words exactly how sensitive his chest was. His cock ached and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from grinding down against Tony over and over, feeling his balls pulling up tight. He mouthed desperately over Tony’s neck, sucking against his skin, and Tony’s legs tightened around his hips, his fingers tangling in the strands of Steve’s hair and tugging just hard enough to send sharp fizzles of pleasure shooting up Steve’s spine. 

“Me too,” Tony hummed, rubbing up against him. “God Steve, you feel amazing.” 

He groaned deep in his throat, tilting his head when Steve’s teeth scraped over his pulse point. And then his hand was shifting again, pinching and rubbing over Steve’s nipple. Steve’s eyes went wide and sightless, and he sobbed a moan into Tony’s neck as he came right there, grinding down against Tony as he dragged out his orgasm. 

“Oh god,” he muttered when he felt like he could breathe again. “Oh fuck.”

He could feel Tony’s hand rubbing soft and soothing over the back of his neck, and he squirmed a little in embarrassment. 

“Um.” He lifted his head to give Tony a somewhat sheepish look. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Tony was grinning back at him, actually looking pleased. He shifted a little, moving back until he was on the bed properly, sitting up and leaning into the couple of pillows at the head of the bed, half dragging Steve with him owing to the way they were all tangled up together. His grin grew wider when he was met with Steve’s flushed face, and he brushed a flop of hair back from his forehead. “Don’t worry about it, Cap,” he told him, his other hand stroking absently over Steve’s thigh. “Happens to the best of us. Honestly, I’m flattered that I--,” 

Tony cut himself as his hand shifted over a little too far and Steve made a faint, punched out noise. For a long minute Tony just blinked at him, and then, deliberately this time, he gripped Steve through his sweatpants, thumb rubbing over the head of his still-hard cock through the damp material.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed, soft like Steve wasn’t supposed to hear. “Are you… Again? Already??” 

“Uh.” Steve felt his cheeks flush even deeper red. “Well, still. But yeah.” 

A high-pitched, desperate noise slipped out of Tony’s mouth and his hands pulled away from Steve, clenching against the sheets like he was trying not to come himself. “Is…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is this a common thing, or am I just special?” 

“Yes,” Steve answered before he’d even fully processed the question. “Yes, you’re definitely special.” He watched Tony’s face go soft and a little flustered at how sincere he was. “But uh… Two or three times is pretty much the norm for me.” 

Tony blew out a long breath, shaking his head and looking absolutely thrilled. “I am one lucky man.” 

Steve couldn’t help smirking at him. “Not yet,” he told him. “But you’re about to get very lucky.” 

Tony blinked at him, then started laughing, and while he was still cackling delightedly, Steve ambushed him. Getting his hands around Tony’s hips, he yanked him down a little lower. Amusement still on his face, Tony looked up at him with an arched eyebrow, clearly waiting for Steve’s next move. Steve ran his palms up and down over Tony’s thighs, noting the way Tony’s eyes followed the motion, the way his abs clenched at how big Steve’s hands were against his legs. 

“Can I…?”Steve didn’t finish the question, instead shifting his hand to toy with the button of Tony’s jeans. Tony swallowed hard and nodded, staring at Steve with wide, dark eyes. 

“Be my guest.”

His cock twitched.

With one orgasm out of the way, Steve was feeling more relaxed, not quite so desperate as before. He couldn’t resist teasing Tony now, sliding his hands up his thighs again, thumbs on either side of his cock, not quite touching him through his jeans. He felt the strong muscles in Tony’s legs clench, flicked his eyes up to see Tony open his mouth like he wanted to protest only to clench his jaw and keep quiet, eyeing Steve as he waited for his next move. Steve grinned and rewarded him with a quick stroke of his thumb over the bulge in the denim, his own cock giving a gratified twitch at the sharp inhale that Tony couldn’t quite hold back. 

“You’re a fucking tease,” Tony breathed, sounding both surprised and pleased by this revelation. Steve looked up at him again, gave him a wink, and took advantage of Tony’s resulting eyeroll to thumb open the button of his jeans.

Tony groaned at that, the sound coming from deep in his chest, the perfect blend of aroused and content. His hips twitched a little as some of the pressure was relieved and when Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, Tony rocked them again intentionally, letting his pants slide a little lower on his hips. 

Steve grinned, and instead of opening his pants further, he curled his hands around Tony’s thighs again, easily spreading his legs wider, just because he could. 

“Can I blow you?” he asked, just to see if he could pull another one of those incredible sounds out of Tony. This one was better, a high pitched breathy noise, like Steve had left him utterly shocked for a brief moment. 

“Yes,” Tony told him, nodding a little frantically and mussing up his hair against the pillows. “Yes, absolutely. Hell, Steve. You get these pants off me, and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” 

“Oh yeah?” Steve grinned and settled himself between Tony’s legs, unable to resist rocking down against the mattress for a moment. His own pants were starting to feel sticky and uncomfortable now, and he considered a minute before shoving them off entirely, the movement quick and perfunctory. 

Tony made a soft noise, clearly disappointed that he wasn’t getting a better view, and Steve hid his smile against his hip. Without further ado, Steve slid Tony’s zipper down and then shoved his jeans down over his hips. Tony moved with him easily, as in sync with each other as ever, arching and wiggling in the appropriate moments to get himself unclothed as quickly as possible. When he saw the bright red silky thing that Tony was wearing underneath, the thin fabric straining against the weight of his hardon, Steve had to take a minute to just shake his head. 

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking… Decadent.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Nothing wrong with a little decadence, Steve. You ever try anything besides those cotton boxer briefs you like so much? I’ve got a hookup, if you wanted to... expand your horizons, a little.” Tony’s gaze went a little unfocused, mind jumping seventeen steps ahead, as usual. “God, you’d look amazing in something lacy. Maybe a pretty little thong, show off that ridiculous butt of yours. Or--,” 

Tony made a noise dangerously close to a squeal as Steve, without any warning, cut him off by dipping his head, sucking at him through the fabric. Tony clapped a hand over his mouth, like he could somehow take the sound back. “Or that. That’s good too.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, drawing another gasp out of Tony as the sensation vibrated up his dick. “You got it, boss,” he hummed, grinning when Tony shifted beneath his hands. 

“You’re such an asshole,” Tony protested, although he was laughing. Steve just looked up at him and winked again; if Tony thought he was an asshole, he could show him a real asshole. 

Taking his time, Steve placed gentle, sucking kisses up the length of his thick cock, still through the silky red fabric, more of a tease than any real pressure. Tony shuddered, whining under his breath, and out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw his fingers twist in the sheets beside his hips. 

Steve pulled back long enough to catch Tony’s hands in his, meeting his eyes steadily as he placed them on the back of his head and gave Tony a pointed look. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tony groaned, head tipping back. It didn’t stop his fingers from tangling in Steve’s hair. “This is not what I was expecting from you.” 

Steve shivered at the idea that Tony might have thought about this before. “Well, you know me. I’m just full of surprises.” He didn’t give Tony a chance to answer before he ducked lower, nuzzling at his balls. Tony made a pained noise, like it was so good he couldn’t stand it, and tightened his legs around Steve’s shoulders. Steve grinned and moved his hands back to Tony’s thighs, sliding them up and running the pads of his fingers through the coarse hair there. He slid them up until they were sliding under the elastic at the tops of his legs, teasing the skin hidden from view. He watched Tony’s cock twitch again, as he slid toward the crease of his groin. 

“Fuck,” Tony groaned, yanking at Steve’s hair until he shuddered. His voice was rough and hoarse. “Steve, if you don’t get these fucking things off of me…” 

Steve grinned, dipping his head to scrape his teeth over Tony’s hipbone. But he was itching for more too, and relented after that, pulling his hands free to grab at the waistband instead. Tony made a pleased sound, arching his hips to help Steve slide the fitted material down over his legs. 

“Shit,” Steve breathed as he was met with Tony’s thick cock, flushed and full, curving up toward his belly. “Look at you.” He blew out a slow breath, grinning when it breezed over Tony’s sensitive skin, making his cock twitch and back arch again. 

“Steve,” he groaned. “Steve, come on. Give me more, I need more. Please.” 

Steve shivered, rewarded Tony with a lick from base to tip. “I like the sound of that,” he said, hearing how low his own voice had gone. “You saying please.”

“Yeah?” Tony was grinning, obviously playing all cool and collected, but Steve had seen the wall his cock had throbbed. “You gonna make me beg, Rogers?” 

“Maybe.” Steve settled back between Tony’s legs, teasing his legs with his tongue and teeth, avoiding his cock altogether. Tony made a soft whining noise, trying to push himself closer, tugging at Steve’s hair to try and get him where he wanted, but Steve responded by pinning his hips to the mattress, holding him still as he mapped out the sensitive parts of his body, the places that made Tony twitch and moan and tug reflexively at the strands of Steve’s hair. He didn’t relent, no matter how much Tony tried, teasing him until he was a panting, shifting mess, head rolling back against the pillows as Steve wound him up until he couldn’t see straight. 

“Fu-uck,” Tony gasped, arching his back and tipping his head back. His neck made an enticing image, and for a moment Steve was distracted, thinking about how badly he wanted to mark it up. “Okay, Christ, you win. Please Steve, please. I’ll do anything, just please. Fucking touch me. Let me come, Steve, please.” 

Steve had ignored his own erection in favour of tormenting Tony, but it came back with a vengeance at the sound of Tony begging for him, his cock throbbing between his legs. He ground down against the mattress once, stroked a thumb over the curve of Tony’s hipbone. 

“Yeah,” he said, suddenly done with teasing. “Yeah, sweetheart. Whatever you want, you got it.” And then, because he’d always be a troll, he glanced up at Tony with a wicked smile. “Hey, did you know that I can hold my breath for fifteen minutes?” 

And while Tony was still parsing that in his flustered state, Steve curled his hand around the base of his cock and lowered his head, not stopping until Tony was pressing into his throat and Steve was groaning around his mouthful. 

“Oh Christ,” Tony wailed, hips bucking despite having nowhere else to go. He yanked hard at Steve’s hair, and Steve felt it in his balls. “Oh fuck, Steve, your fucking mouth.” He rocked desperately against him, going nearly cross-eyed as Steve sucked around him. He cursed and shifted as Steve pulled slowly off his cock, tongued at the head, before sucking him back down again. “I’m not… You can’t… Don’t judge me cause I’m gonna come in about two -- fuck!” 

Steve’s free hand moved, thumb rubbing harshly over his perineum, and for a brief moment Tony went stock still before he was coming hard, hands holding Steve’s head down as he came down his throat. The feeling was too much for Steve, who rocked down hard against the mattress, spilling against the sheets. 

It was a minute before Tony’s hands let go enough for Steve to pull off, panting more from the thrill of his orgasm than from any real exertion. He rubbed his sweaty forehead against the smooth skin of Tony’s abdomen, feeling it flex as he tried to catch his breath, and he grinned as Tony’s hand resettled on the back of his head, combing absently over the short strands. 

“Oh fuck,” Tony finally said, sounding like he’d only just remembered how to speak. “Oh fuck, that was… That was incredible, Steve.” There was no teasing in his voice, sweet and sincere, and Steve felt a warm, comfortable weight settle over him at the sound. 

Lifting himself up on slightly shaking limbs, he crawled up the mattress until he was face-to-face with Tony again, flopping down on the pillows beside him. It was a tight fit, but gave him an excuse to wrap an arm around Tony’s waist. “Yeah,” he admitted, aware that he was grinning like an absolute idiot. “Yeah, it really was.” 

Tony grinned back at him, equally stupidly, and then leaned forward, kissing Steve all slow and lazy now. 

“Oh hey,” he said, pulling back suddenly. “Sorry about, uh…” He gestured vaguely between them. “Coming down your throat without asking like that. Terrible sex etiquette.” 

Steve snorted, pressing his head to Tony’s collarbone as he laughed giddily. “It’s fine,” he promised him. “I wouldn’t’ve let you if I didn’t want it.” He lifted his head again to find Tony watching him with that same soft expression and he reached out, catching Tony’s hand and toying with his long fingers. “So. What now?” he asked, not quite meeting Tony’s eyes. 

“Now?” Tony repeated. “Now I’m thinking we take a shower, get cleaned up, and then maybe go upstairs and crawl into my bigger, more comfortable bed for a couple hours together?” He trailed off a little hopefully, and Steve looked up at him, felt his breath catch. “And then, uh…” Tony ducked his head and twisted his wrist so he could rub his thumb over Steve’s pulse point. “Then maybe I could take you to dinner? I’ve got this little Italian place I think you’d love.” 

“Yes,” Steve told him, and it was entirely too earnest but Tony didn’t look like he minded at all. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

@tonystarkbingo

[princessnijireiki]

In full, full, full seriousness: time for the return of the Bootleg DVD Man. Or at very least, time to become that man ourselves. Physical media is king, yes, but the flip side is all media decays + online cloud storage exposes you to anti piracy takedowns.

You need physical backups & you need redundancies. Maybe lossy files for airplay at home + backups of those on private Vimeo, disc based view-only optical media as a backup (2 copies so if one gets scratched + you lose the files you can rip & re-burn the .ISO of the other), lossless if you can on an external drive or two, ideally at least one copy on flash or SSD, an offline server backup if you can get access to one, or private encrypted cloud storage on non searchable online (but offsite) servers.

Bonus: if you need fast HD backups of something that is being/may be pulled, which is still live on streaming but obscure enough not to be on the popular piracy streaming or P2P sites (because even pirated DDL is largely going the way of the dodo), you can use a service like PlayOn Cloud to save videos so long as you have a legitimate account & login for the main streaming site.

I prefer PlayOn Cloud because my home internet access in the past has not been great, and PlayOn standard records your video file copy as the streaming media itself is played— so if you've got a good enough, uninterrupted connection for that, there's definitely tutorials to rip streaming media & bypass screen recording blocks for free that will serve you better.

PlayOn Cloud is you putting in a remote request with your login credentials & it will record in HD for you (you do have to go to Settings 》 Video Quality 》 HD or Full HD beforehand though) + host the file so you can access it for download & play from the app or PC. It's not free, and if you want to share files beyond your personal or professional circles like in P2P yourself, you'll need video editing software (there's a splash screen before the videos play with your full name & account info, easy to trim off a clip or film but you gotta know what you're doing), but it's a worthwhile investment to offload some of the front-end acquisition work before you go building your media library.

And this is going to sound incredibly petty just because... it's potentially extra criminal + too late for most employees to do anything, but 1) this is why we steal from work (including disguising one thing as another to do it— thank you, Chelsea Manning!), 2) this is why you include stealing in your exit strategies (bcc everything to your private non work emails for ex., back up all softwares & forms you design even as a regular schmegular office worker), and 3) outright ask for— or just take & make— backup copies of all finished work for your own + potentially everyone else's sake.

This is also a huge part of why disgruntled employees leak shit, whether that's state secrets, first draft scripts, ARCs, pilot clips, etc— it's sort of gotten folded into "normal" expectations of big business, especially big business blockbuster media, but a tactically, anonymously deployed "illegal" video clip (ideally passed through enough hands & stripped of enough identifying information that you can legally protect yourself), even a literal CAM bootleg, or blurry low res jpeg dummyphone photos of pages of a physical book, can shake the fucking table for good or for ill just like any other whistleblower case or internal document shakeup. Super illegal! But still something to consider.

Good luck & godspeed, everybody. Be the hero your resumé needs today and some future archivist will need tomorrow.

If you’re not keeping up, Cartoon Network sold off most of its original programming over the last few years to run exclusively on HBO Max, but after a merger with Discovery, HBO has taken them all down, including those that were still in production, for what is long story short a big tax write-off. And it’s not a simple matter of them just airing or streaming somewhere else now. It’s a very complicated issue of rights and contracts and money but essentially it’s very possible that these shows will never be available again in official capacity and their creators will never see another penny from them again, either. Some completed episodes may also be lost media, indefinitely. For a couple of series, such as Mao Mao and Infinity Train, Cartoon Network has gone back and scrubbed all tweets, youtube clips or other mention of the series existence, confirming they likely no longer have the rights to take them anywhere else. The tweet today by the creator of Tig N’ Seek made me saddest.

A lot of people this week have simply given up on their industry careers, seeing years of their life’s work just vanish into a corporate vault overnight. Being able to point to your work on a streaming service had apparently even become a pretty critical part of the portfolios they now rely on to get new jobs.

Streaming media went from an optimistic new frontier to even worse than cable TV so suddenly.

[butcanijustnot]

Taste Of The Light - A Young Justice FanFic  Prologue

Author: Crystalline / @butcanIjustnot

Fandom: Young Justice x OCs 

Part number: Prologue of a seventeen-part story... Yeah, I know.

Tagging: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 - I’m not sure how good this is but I mean it’s something so here you go.

Summary: This chapter explains the universe around the new OC characters. It’s basically just backstory. Pretty boring but the next chapter makes up for it, I promise. Also, this fic takes place between season 1 and season 2 of the show, as shown by the timestamps in the chapters. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Light swearing towards the end, but apart from that nothing really. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Watchtower.

7.15pm. 1st October 2011.

“I hope this is important, Red Tornado,” Batman said in his signature stony voice as he entered the watchtower’s control room, greeting his colleague with about as much warmth as he could muster this late at night. “I was in the middle of a very important dinner.” He added, strategically leaving out the fact that the ‘important dinner’ was with Alfred, Barbara, and Dick. Unimportant.

“I apologize, Batman.” Red tornado answered in his robotic voice, his gaze never leaving the large screens which were filled with various pages and files. “but I do believe that this is important, though I need you to confirm my suspicion. Come and take a look at this.” He said, beckoning Batman forwards towards the computers.

“You will recall, a few months ago, we apprehended a man attempting to hack the Justice League servers and steal top secret information, such as secret identities and weapon plans, to sell to third parties. He goes by the name TechTalk online, but his civilian identity is Shane Carter” Red Tornado explained, pulling up a mugshot of a blond man. He had huge black circles under her eyes, and a listless frown as he held up the name-plate. “He was a robotics and engineering prodigy. He first got media attention when he built a fully functioning android at age nine for a primary school science fair. By the time he was fourteen, he had graduated high school and had a full scholarship to Gotham International University, but he got bored with the schoolwork. Problems arose when he began to use his abilities only for hacking government systems and creating weaponized robots.” Numerous newspaper articles flashed on the screen of Shane Carter receiving awards and scholarships. The articles quickly turned bitter, however, as Shane’s creations got more and more dangerous.

A picture flew up next to Shane’s mugshot, of a pair of grey-white animatronics. They were human in shape but every part of their anatomy screamed ‘evil robot’, from the sleek and plastic-like white exterior to the silver guns replacing their right hands. Each robot had large bundles of silver and red wires showing through the cracks where two plastic limbs attached to one another. They had no facial expressions, no noses or ears or hair of any description, only huge red eyes that glowed in their sockets and metal jaws with serrated teeth. They were truly horrible, nightmarish creatures.

Batman looked at his robotic friend, suddenly extremely glad that he was a much friendlier looking animatronic, confused. “I know about TechTalk, Red Tornado, and he hasn’t done anything of interest in months. Why are you bringing this up now?” He asked, staring into the listless eyes of Shane’s mugshot.

“Due to being a non-violent offender, Shane was released with little more than a slap on the wrist and mild community service, but not before the league bugged all his electronic equipment with software to monitor what he is doing. You told me when we began doing this to notify you if anything that could be potentially dangerous showed up on any of his messages or programs.” He responded in his robotic voice. Batman nodded slowly as the screens cleared of other materials and Red Tornado opened a batch file labeled ‘records of TechTalk messages.’

“I think I found something that fits that description,” Tornado added as the file opened, showing screenshots of his messages. “These messages are from 11 o’clock yesterday. They transpire between TechTalk and a mysterious W.”

New plan. You want in? ~W

Depends on the plan. Your last idea was… less than fantastic… ~TechTalk

What are you talking about, TT? It was a great plan. ~W

I’m sorry, but covering the Gotham City Bank in cotton candy is not a villainous scheme. It’s a 6-year-old’s wish upon a unicorn, or whatever. ~TechTalk

Excuse U, that plan was amazing and totally would have worked if I could have gotten my hands on 200 metric tonnes of sugar. ~W

Whatever, no, this plan is better. ~W

Fine, explain your idea. ~TechTalk

I’m going to create an anti-justice league, compiled of the children of famous villains. It’ll be like the Young Justice league, but evil. It’ll be amazing, trust me. I’ve already got my eyes on a couple of Arkham babies. If I can get those three to fall under my command, everyone and everything else will fall into place. ~W

That’s actually… not a terrible plan. Good job. ~TechTalk

Try not to sound so surprised next time…. ~W

I’m going to need some backup to get this plan rolling. I’ll send you the details later. ~W

KK ~TechTalk

The messages were cryptic, with huge gaps that left unanswered questions, but one thing was abundantly clear. Someone was plotting to create a supervillain army, and the Justice League couldn’t let that happen.

“Who’s W?” Batman asked, furrowing his brow as the messages on the screen looped and replayed again. “I’ve never heard of him before.”

“Nobody has. Nobody going by the name ‘W’ is on the Justice League database, nor any of the others we are linked too.” Red tornado hummed. “These messages were only found a day or so ago, and though I have tried multiple times to trace the ID of the sender, they reroute the signal and shoot it somewhere digitally randomized and reset constantly.” He finished, looking over at the vacant and slightly confused expression of his colleague. He let out a robotic sigh. “They send me on a wild goose chase.” He explained. “As such, we have no idea who they are or where they are. We really only know there plan, and some would argue that that is not enough.” Red Tornado said, side-eying his colleague unsubtly. 

“If the Arkham inmates do have children…” Batman thought aloud, his words trailing off but the thought behind them sticking clear in his head. If the Arkham inmates have children, those kids would probably be around Dick’s age… and they would probably have an axe to grind against him and all heroes…

“We’ll keep investigating this,” Batman stated after a brief period of thoughtful silence. “It has the potential to be a big problem…” He said, already forming a plan in his head. 

“Or it could be nothing at all. We don’t even know if these children are real, there’s no record of any of them anywhere. I know, I’ve checked. Is this really the best use of Justice league time, protecting against a threat that quite possibly does not exist?” Red Tornado asked Batman, simply trying to raise another point. Batman was quiet for a moment, silently weighing all his options.

“So we will work out if these children are real, and then go from there. Come on, let’s not waste time.” Batman said, nodding as he spoke. He turned away from the screen and beckoned his robotic friend to follow him as he exited. “See if you can contact Diana and the rest of the league. I think that her Lasso is going to come in handy.“

“Where are we going?“ Tornado asked, following Batman to the Zeta-Tube.

Batman smirked, punching a code into the Zeta-Tubes. “The official meeting-place of the Batman fan-club,“ He said, entering the area code for Arkham Asylum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Selina glared at the Batman, twisting her fingers in the handcuffs to unsheathe and recoil her claws. Her torso shifted uncomfortably under the weight of Wonder Woman’s lasso. 

Batman huffed and finally broke the silence. “Selina, I need to know if you have any children.” He asked her.

“Why do you care all of a sudden?” Selina said, cocking an eyebrow at him, confused. 

Batman closed his eyes and shook his head. He should have known that trying to talk to Selina was a bad idea, he should have let Dinah do it like she offered, but he was here now and he was going to get the information he needed out of her. “We have reason to believe that if any of the villains in Arkham have children, they could be at risk. We don’t know the details yet, but we do know that somebody is planning to take advantage of them. If that's true, we need to get to these children before anyone else has the chance too.” He said, attempting to explain as best he could.

Selina looked at him for a second, as if she was trying to discern if he was telling the truth. Finally, she spoke, “Yes, I do.” She stated, avoiding his eyes and looking down at her clawed hands. The lasso glowed bright gold and then dulled again, signaling that she was telling the truth. “A daughter. Looked like me. Ears, tail, claws, the whole ordeal. Don’t bother asking me where she is now, I don’t know.” Selina explained quickly.

After a moment of awkward silence, Batman asked her a simple question. “Is it…”

“No.” She quickly cut him off before he could finish.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red Tornado looked across the table with hollow, lifeless eyes. “Do you have children?” He asked in his deadpanned voice.

“The fuck are you on?” Scarecrow growled, clearly confused. “I want some.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Harley, I need to know if you have children,” Dinah asked the loopy-eyed girl sitting across the table. She looked at Harley with what could only be described as a soft glare. Dinah couldn’t deny that has a soft spot for this crazy girl. She saw goodness in Harley, even if nobody else could.

“Watcha asking for?” Harley asked, cocking her head to one side. “You looking for a new mommy buddy to help with Connor?” She gasped suddenly, jumping in her seat. “Can I see pictures?!?” She squealed.

“HARLEY!“ Dinah screeched, pushing her back into her seat. “Harley, please, listen to me. People, children, could be in danger, and we need to help make sure that they are safe. The only way that we can do that right now is for you to answer that question, and answer it truthfully.” 

The room was stone silent for far longer than Dinah was comfortable with before finally Harley spoke up. 

“Yeah. I got kids.“ She said, her voice surprisingly listless as she stared down at the table. The lasso glowed bright and then dulled, showcasing her truth. 

“Kids?“ Dinah asked her, reaching across the table to take one of Harley’s hands in her own. Harley looked up at her and gave a soft smile and small nod. 

“Yeah, Kids. I had twins years ago, two beautiful boys. Adrian and William, They were the lights of my life.“

“Are they Joker’s?“ Dinah asked. 

Slowly, Harley nodded again. “Yeah. Don’t tell him, though, he doesn’t know yet. I’ve never known how to tell him, so I just... didn’t. I didn’t know how he would react.“ Harley said, shrugging her shoulders. 

Dinah paused for a second, letting Harley catch her breath before continuing.  “Do you know where they are?“ 

She shook her head “I left them with my sister, maybe twelve or so years ago, but I haven’t heard from her in a while, oh god, at least a year, so I don’t know if they are still there.“

“We’ll try to find them, Harley. We’ll make sure they’re okay.“ Dinah said soothingly, smiling softly in an attempt to comfort her friend. It was quiet for a minute, before Dinah smirked playfully at Harley, cocking her head to one side. 

“Do you really want to see pictures?“ She asked. 

Of course, Harley perked right up almost immediately. “God yes!!!“ She squealed, clapping her hands together as Dinah pulled her phone out of her back pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you have any children?“ Diana asked the man across from her with her classic stony tone.

“What the hell do you think, princess?“ Mr. Frost snarled at her, sure to accentuate her phony title. 

Had he not been wearing a fishbowl on his head, Diana would have slapped him. Hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Poison Ivy,“ Hal said, really wishing that he had stayed in bed instead of answering the justice league communicator. 

“Green Lantern. The worst green thing on earth.” Poison Ivy said, sneering at the man.

Usually, Hal would find that funny, but his sleep-deprived ass wasn’t interested in making small talk today. “I’m not saying you sleep around, but If you tell me you have kids I won’t be surprised.“

“Charming.“

Hal waited for a second before gesturing for her to continue. “So do you?“

“Yes.“ She said simply as if she had nothing to hide and nothing to prove. The golden lasso confirmed her words as true.  There was an awkward pause between the two of them before Hal spoke. 

“I feel like that was too easy...“ He mumbled, before shaking his head and standing up. “But whatever, I don’t question the magic rope. I’m going to bed. Goodbye, Plantgirl.” He said, leaving the room with a rather insulted Ivy in his wake. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’re real...“ Batman said, pacing the length of the waiting room of Arkham Asylum as he thought. Diana sat in a seat to one side, twisting her lasso in one hand, listening to his rambling and nodding along. “These people have children. Real children.“ He added. 

“What are we going to do about this?“ Diana asked him. “We all have jobs, lives and Justice league problems of our own. We can’t afford to follow this rabbit hole for weeks or months, especially if we have no solid leads other than “They exist.”“ She pointed out.

Batman rubbed his hand over his masked face, sighing deeply. “You’re right.” He said, more to himself than to her. “But what else are we going to do? We can’t just wait around for this to become a huge problem.”

Diana stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I have another idea if you’re interested.” She said. “Have you thought about giving it to the Young Justice team, at least for now? They could work on it and try to break the case from another perspective. A teenager perspective. Those kids are much smarter than you’re willing to admit, they might be able to help.“ She said simply. 

Batman thought for a second, before shaking his head. “That’s... A good idea.” He said. “I’ll talk to Robin about it tomorrow and discuss with the extended team as soon as possible.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Bruce,” Diana said, staring across the room at the wall with an aura of distance. “After all, how much trouble can four kids cause?“ She asked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry about this guys, but I had to remove the links because tumblr is throwing a little bit of a tantrum in regards to links and NSFW content at the moment. As a result, me and many other creators are walking on eggshells until tumblr takes a fucking chill pill. As such there aren’t any links on this fic, but if you liked this and you want to see the rest of it, DM me and I’ll send you all the links to all the chapters I’ve written. Thanks guys and sorry again!

[pregenerated]

hf archives: Cybersecurity 101

"Welcome to day 1 of the worst course of your life, so far. You are here because you are looking to become a sysadmin of some big shot corp, or perhaps because you hate yourself. You probably think you are good at coding, that you know your way around a computer.

You are not, and you do not.

Since the advent of widespread quantum computing in 2053, most processes performed on a computer are entirely human incomprehensible. While plenty of simpler, surface level of code remains, typically for consumer applications, low-level operations require tools to use your tools. From a cybersecurity standpoint, this is fantastic. From a you standpoint, this is the worst.

As a result, most advanced computer work requires a user to be connected to a seamless neural mesh - in layman's terms, "jacked in." With specialized hardware, much of the needed information is processed and reprocessed several times and wired directly to your brain, far more efficiently than you could hope to get off of reading a screen. I will not lie to you, because you must understand the exact importance of your work and its true nature - this is unbelievably dangerous. You should really only be doing this when you're certain your network is secure, and you're not dealing with any dangerous code. To be absolutely clear: if you fuck up, or worse, the unthinkable happens and you get attacked: this can KILL you. I say this not to dissuade you; after all, practically any job has the potential - did you know ride service drivers are one of the highest mortality jobs? - but so you do not take this lightly.

Page 102, everyone.

Standard systems, nowadays, are multi layered. Some people are baffled by this; after all, isn't the first layer enough?

No.

In an age where anything and everything is stored online, failure is not an option. You cannot be lazy. You cannot loosen your grip.

That brings me, of course, to the first layer: RBS-08, AKA "The Wall."

Practically standard issue and yet nigh impenetrable, this is your first line of defense, and against a standard attack, is completely unbeatable. The creation of the Realtime Bounceback System didn't just revolutionize cybersecurity, it defined it. An ever shifting layer of hopelessly complex, self-modifying encryption, that nevertheless is weak to the oldest security flaw known to man: human error. While a wall completely and utterly defends against unauthorized external attacks, it by nature cannot defend from the inside, and it really only takes one employee to be a tad gullible (or worse, just poor in his password choice) to render your magic wonder-wall about as secure as a wet tissue.

This leaves us to the other layers. I tackle them at the same time, because they are fundamentally reached at the same time. Once past the wall, an attacker is already inside your system. In the old days, this is usually where we'd shrug and say oh well. We can't afford that. Computers run every part of our lives; and failure means so, so much more.

This isn't a game, or a skirmish. This is war. Make them pay for every step they take.

File storage and sorting has gotten quite complex. Use this to your advantage. Your next layer is the labyrinth. While on consumer grade machines, this is practically nonexistent as a form of defense, most of you will not be working on consumer grade machines, but machines few should have access to. Turn this into an advantage. An average corporate hub server at this point is littered with traps and shifting passageways, threatening to boot-or worse-anyone who doesn't know their way around. This, ultimately, is passive defense, and one not deterred by the wall is unlikely to be deterred here.

Which brings us, of course, to active defense. A watchful eye can personally deal with intruders as they come, but there are two issues with this. One, of course, is that it is dangerous, as I said earlier. The other is that you cannot personally watch a system 24/7. A defense is only so good as its weakest point.

This, of course, is why specially trained neural networks have become mainstream in the standard suite of cybersecurity. Most networks tend to have a watcher - yes?

Great question. It actually is possible to have multiple watchers, but given their volatile nature, this takes a lot of work to make sure they won't end up recognizing the other as a threat. Watchers have to be trained to match their network - their "labyrinth" - which is why most are unique, and why they cannot be practically transferred between networks or cloned. You can make a backup of one, of course, but they won't really function elsewhere.

Those, of course, consist of the standard set of layers, but by no means are they the only possible ones. Throughout my course I will teach you every damn trick in the book, and then some. You will learn to train a watcher, you will learn to attack and defend a system, you will learn to tango with the best of them. You will learn exactly how goddamn important your job is, and take it in stride.

Any questions?"

[lilith-devi-nyx-elsword-theorist]

I only care about the state of Grand Fantasia and the guild I’m in, I love the game no matter what, it was a first MMORPG I played back then.

But the company/companies AeriaGames and now Gamigo, I have the biggest grudge on Aeria the most, I’ve explained I want an old account back, from being banned because A. I didn’t know my password was next to my computer and my cousin didn’t realize that the scammer was going to lock out my one account. I’m over it now, but reminder I had more fun with those characters. B. I do have some major dispute with other players I ignore the newbies, but the current old ones do indeed pissed me off. “OH you gotta pay 20g each run for Prairie Cave.”  the other time it was 60g and I was like that’s scamming me dudes thats fucking scam right there why should you pay? you don’t deserve to be paid and these players new and old needing to run quests don’t have to pay, that’s a selfish rule for you, sure maybe like level 50+ armor being crafted but really they’re half easy and with the luck its easy.

C. they banned the use of dual logging, you can dual log, but don’t make it noticeable or anything because they want to keep the playerbase but uhm the after mentioned PAY ME THIS MUCH FOR HELP, no shit I would drag out an alt of mine to save me from the despair I would be going through. D. I do like the classes, they’re lots of fun, I was originally THE Natsulife the Darkstalker that got mistaken as a healer and not a blooded killer lol. I deleted him but reminder, I still have the old screenshots with miss HanaKazumi wherever she may be as I enjoyed hanging out with her as an old Gaia server player who seemed to BE there at any corner to help out and we both literally do run dungeons together lol.

E. I like the sprites, sure they irritate me when they accidentally AoE on a stealth run, or break armor, but it’s all forgiven when they saved a material. its the best on the go, crafting system. With the Sprites altars you can get sprites you could not obtain easily, sure a lot of reputation to those specific altars but the grind was best. F. The lovers system, I adore it, you have to get the lover coins, but you can buy lover skills! WHICH ITS THE BEST BUFFING SYSTEM IN THE GAME IMO!!! 2 GIRLS LOVERS, THEY GET THE LOVERS BUFF FOR EACH OTHER, 2 GUYS SAME SCENARIO~~ Sorry went on a fun thing.

G. I hate the guilds, before you start. I mean I hate guilds that expect you to be on, every day of the week, in a month, in every YEAR! and if you’re not on for ONE DAY you get kicked out! I’m sorry you guild leaders need to understand, PEOPLE HAVE THINGS TO DO OUTSIDE OF THE GAME RIGHT!? I bitched out a guild one time, because when my aunt passed away, and I explained I will be off for a few days, some of the players said “Okay, we will make sure you don’t get kicked.” Apparently the guild leader who was online who saw what I said, I came back online only to see myself KICKED out of guild for “not saying I will be gone for a few days.” I ripped that guild leader a new one, because of his fucking bullshit, I was in a point of time where I lost 2 family members in a single year! I was in a state of trying to collect myself! You guys want a fucking serious ONLINE ALL DAY GUILD, then JOIN EACH OTHER DON’T WASTE EVERYONE ELSE’S TIME, TO BE ONLINE FOR YOU AND YOUR GUILD! It’s why I enjoy my guild leaders guild as she says we can be online whenever WE can, or if we’re AVAILABLE, I use that rule on other players all the time when they join, you guys make your own time to be online hopefully someones online, to assist you if you need anything.

People who say there’s no lore in the game, ACTUALLY there is, you don’t look at the reputations they literally give you what is a summarized story/LORE to that reputation. In the Quests, you see some hints of story, when you go to Old Siwa Island! YOU GET A HISTORY BEFORE YOUR ADVENTURE EVEN BEGAN AND WHY THE BOSS OF SIWA ISLAND’S MOUNTAIN TOP LOOKED WEAKER THEN WHEN YOU FIGHT HIM AGAIN, YOU’LL SEE A OLD FAMILIARITY ONLY FOR IT TO BE STRONGER THAN IT ORIGINALLY WAS.

the free sunbird mount, I enjoy it for the newbies, as if they’re going to run, they might as well have a mount thats not as slow right? it’s a great system, the tutorial stuff that’s new, is helpful.

I hate the security system in the game, it ruined all of what made Grand Fantasia, well Dream Journey Online. I liked sitting on the title screen listening to that old piano music, bringing the feeling of joy to what you’re going into, I don’t like logging into the game but having 2 tries to put in some numbered code for security reasons but its every 5 minutes I do ONE thing, i have to TYPE IN THAT BS CODE AGAIN TO CONFIRM I AM A HUMAN BEING! and someone might say “You don’t complain about Eden Eternal or Aura Kingdom why?” well.... I played Eden at the same time of GF, and I am still upset it shut down recently may Eden Eternal rest in peace, one day some company will heave it over their shoulder and carry it to freedom.

I would rather another company, hold some of the games that these guys have a hold of these games, Grand Fantasia needs better people to look over the game all it is, is a ghost server no one exists in the game other than certain players. I’m not saying we all quit, but we all want a better service to the game.

[freckleslikestars]

People who sit and nurse one drink over two hours. Mate, go to a pub and get a fucking beer, cause that mojito is going to be watery as fuck and going to taste like shit now. Also, not being rude, but if you’re just gonna sit and chat and not actually drink the drinks that we have on offer…just stay in?

People who drink more tap water than the shit they’re actually paying for. And this goes for non alcoholic drinks as well. If it’s dietary, go ahead. My best friend can only drink water. I get it. But it’s people who come in, have one drink that they’re paying for, and then sit and just drink the complimentary bottles of water. But still expect you to wait on them and bring them those free bottles of water. I’m not being funny, but when you buy a drink you’re also paying for the service, and if you’re not buying drinks you’re not actually paying for service.

People who order a drink, say it’s good when asked by the server if anything’s okay, and then forty minutes later complain they don’t like it. It’s going to taste like shit three quarters of an hour after it’s been made. Cocktails aren’t made to sit around and get warm. And if you’ve let it sit there and kind of tentatively sipped from it until there’s only half a drink left and then kick up a fuss, it’s your own fucking fault because I asked you, explicitly, whether everything was okay with the drink. And if not, whether that’s because somethings actually wrong with the drink (three weeks ago the boss added salt instead of sugar to one of the sweetest drinks on the menu because he didn’t check the label on the jar and went straight to the sweet drink after salting the rim of a margarita - these things happen and sometimes we do fuck up, so if you talk to us we can get it corrected) or because it’s just not your thing, we can take it away and get you something that is. It’s why we check back on you a couple of minutes after it’s arrived.

People sitting on their phones not talking to one another. I will say, this tends to happen more to couples who have clearly been together longer, and also that it’s more common with people over the age of 40-ish. And I think this one bothers me because it’s so fucking rude. My dad and I have a rule of ‘no phones at the dinner table or out when we’re having drinks or something unless it’s pertinent to what we’re discussing - so if we have to look something up to do with the conversation or if we want to show the other something that we saw online earlier. And it’s not hard and fast, sometimes we do have to be in contact with other people for work or something, and that’s fine, but on the whole it’s phones away because otherwise it’s rude. And I think particularly when people have a reservation, they’ve booked in advance and told us ‘it’s Matthew’s birthday’ or ‘celebrating wedding anniversary’ or ‘Jasmin got a promotion’ or ‘date night’ and then you sit there not talking to one another and not actually celebrating, what is the fucking point. We’ve turned our guest WiFi off (for unrelated WiFi problems), and cause we’re in a basement, signals patchy and unreliable, and honestly the number of people who actually talk and seem to have a good time has increased. And honestly? We all want to keep it off. If you really need the internet, you can go outside. But we are getting far fewer customers who come down, have a couple of drinks, spend the entire night staring at their phones instead of interacting with one another, and then leave grumbling about “the atmosphere” or how little they enjoyed it when we as staff endeavoured to make their stay as pleasant as possible and we were blocked at every opportunity because their screen was more interesting.

Things that as a bartender I fucking hate: a (probably) ever growing list

Lipstick - in particular those 24-hour-waterproof-will-still-last-through-a-nuclear-disaster-even-if-you-don’t ones. You have to check every glass before it goes in the glass wash, because if you put one with lipstick into the glass wash it bakes it on. There have been times that someone has not wiped off lipstick before it’s gone in the wash and we’ve had to throw the whole glass out because you’ll never get Very Cherry Berry or whatever the fuck off now. And sometimes even if you do try your best to get it off, you get smears that you can never quite buff out.

Plastic glassware. This is a contentious one. I don’t want to get rid of plastics - plastics are great for when you’ve got a room full of 21 year olds who you don’t trust with glass. Plastics are great for when you’re at an outdoor venue or you’ve got a pour of 3000 drinks and no way in hell of getting a glass wash turn over fast enough. Plastics are hell on earth to dry - particularly rigid plastics. Im not so bothered by the flexible ones that bounce back when you squish them, but the ones that crack? Pain in the arse to wash and dry. Plastic shot glasses are the worst for this. Also, water sticks to plastic so much more than it does to glass, so you get through so many more cloths drying plastic than you do drying glass. I hate plastics.

Dairy based drinks. Don’t get me wrong, I love a grasshopper or a brandy Alexander, but they take so much more washing up. If you just chuck the glass of a dairy based drink in a glass washer, then depending on your heat settings it cooks the milk and you get this white milky film across the inside of the glass that you’re never getting out. Same with egg white drinks.

People who gender drinks. No, a daiquiri is not a girly drink. A godfather or an old fashioned doesn’t make you manly. Gin and tonics are not womens’ drinks and whiskey is not reserved only for old men. Don’t fucking tease your mate when his Hanky Panky comes out in a dainty Nick and Nora, when your dark and stormy is in a highball, because his hanky panky is all alcohol, and yours is mostly ice and ginger beer.

Long Island iced teas. I’m not going to elaborate on that one.

People who order a martini and then expect it to come in a v shaped cocktail glass, then kick up a fuss because you won’t put it in one. Traditionally, martinis were served in Nick & Nora’s. We still serve them in nicks because nicks are easier to drink from, plain and simple, and because that is traditionally what they were served in. The Americans brought it v shaped glasses, which the media picked up on. And, really, it’s a bars personal choice what they stock. We don’t keep cocktail glasses at the front of house because we prefer nicks. They take up less room, they look nicer, they don’t break so much and they’re easier to drink from. It’s incredibly rude to complain about the glassware your drink is in before you’ve even tried the drink.

In the same vein, people who come in and order a martini, shaken not stirred, because that’s the way James Bond has it. No. James Bond had his martini shaken because it used potato vodka that wasn’t particularly well filtered and so still had a lot of starch and stuff that made it look cloudy. There’s a rule when making cocktails: you shake a drink to achieve four things - dilution, aeration, to mix and and to cool it down. A good rule of thumb is if a drink is clear, it’s not got anything to hold aeration (fruit juice, for example) so you want to stir it because you then get your dilution, cooling, mixing, as well as the added control of being able to see what’s happening rather than having everything hidden in tins. So, your martini that we’re making with a vodka that’s been filtered five times through molecular filters and is clearer than the water you’re gonna get out of the tap really has no need to be shaken. You’re not getting anything out of shaking it - in fact, you’re going to lack the control that stirring is, so you risk having a drink that isn’t diluted or cold enough (we shake a drink for 8-10 seconds, we stir a drink for 40 seconds to a minute, often over a cooling bain Marie/ice bath)

Drinks like slippery nipples and blow jobs. They’re usually shots. They’re messy, they taste shit and people order them just for the name. I’ve never met a bartender who likes serving shots like that.

[superemeralds]

sonic forces review

EDIT: added day after thoughts under read more

Hey nyall! Time to review forces!

First, a broad, spoiler free, review. Under the cut will be a more in depth review containing spoilers for both, the main game AND episode shadow.

Please note that this is from the perspective of someone with adhd. I can’t tell how some of the things that peeved me would affect neurotypicals.

General info:

There is an easy and a hard mode. (hard mode is just normal mode “for ppl who played sonic before”) It took me 7 hours and 44 minutes to complete the entire game including episode shadow. Granted, I took quite a few breaks for breathers and shitpostingly liveblogging me playing the game on a discord server + I think I’m just bad at the game.

There are over 30 levels to play, of which a few did repeat and you just play with a different character, but it was still fun!

The hub map got increasingly confusing and hard to navigate and i really hate it now that i completed it because there’s too much happening at once on the screen.

Game play:

There was a Classic Sonic, Modern Sonic and Custom Character type game play.

I personally do not enjoy Classic Sonic game play but it was very well playable once I remembered I could use the arrow key pad instead of the left joystick.

Modern Sonic was often too fast in platforming sections and the absence of drift made sharp curves in 3D areas hard to handle, mainly when you activated boost (as the game intends you to). But it was very fun and refreshing to be able to boost again.

The Custom Character could use different wispons to do progress in the game. This is probably what has the most replay factor, as you can go back to levels using different wispons to clear new paths that you were previously unable to go through. The wispon use can be kinda sloppy at times, but once you get used to it it can be very fun.

The tag team game play was sloppy. It was never clear which character you are playing as right now (until later I realized you are playing both at the very same time ? I think? i am still confused).

Visuals:

The lighting in the cutscenes and levels often comes short and can even ruin the atmosphere at times. A lack of detail in some scenes undermines this. 

The characters are not as expressive as they could be, but there are some iconic expressions to spot throughout the game.

Sometimes camera angles shift weirdly or zoom out too much (some times the character even blends in with the stage and you don’t see it at all anymore when you are in movement) and you lose track of your character and most probably fall off the stage or get hurt. Sometimes there is also a little too much going on in the background.

On the contrary, the game had also tried to pull quite a few visually stunning shots and lighting in both levels and cutscenes.

It is overall still better than previous games because it has more heart and life in it and I hold it dear.

Overall feelings about the game:

The game had mostly been very fun! There was a lot of variety between stages and the wispons gave the gameplay a very fresh kick.

Some stages were frustrating because the character was too fast/very hardly visible for the platforming and I ended up dying a lot in the same spot. 

Not to say too much about the story, but Classic Sonic was pure fanservice and was not important to the plot whatsoever and the game would’ve done very well without him.

Character development was pretty absent.

The pacing of the game in general was very sloppy and almost even uncomfortably fast (rushed) and bland.

Most of the levels were very short to a point where you’d expect there to be multiple acts of it because you refuse to accept that this was already the end of it.

The story had some strong points, though, and the music was absolutely phenomenal, like always, BUT the music was not as recognizable as it was in previous games. I played the final boss only a very few hours ago and i cannot remember the tune to it at all.

The game had a lot of potential but it was executed rather sloppily than exceptionally.

All in all this game gets a 7/10 for effort from me.

because im very generous and i still had fun and was hyped and enjoyed it despite all the annoying parts. I mean i am also 06fucker69

Longer and more in depth review including spoilers under the cut

!!!! WARNING SPOILERS START HERE !!!!

I will try to stay in chronological order, but that is the first thing that is kinda peeving me in this game. 

(warning i quickly grew tired and couldn't write anymore but i forced myself to finish)

The time skips and flashbacks are inconsistent and have a harsh transition. For example the 6 months between Sonic’s defeat and the recruitment of the Rookie is just white text on a black screen that isn’t even narrated. Sometimes the time between perspectives is very disorted and you forget about Classic and Tails while you are busy with another mission that is forced upon you thanks to the linear 1 perspective story.

I would’ve had a 3 perspective story, with 3 story modes. Each story mode would explore the same story from the different perspectives like in SADX, SA2, heroes and Sonic the hedgehog 2006. (mostly 06 though)

The stages were perfectly arranged and build to be incorporated into a 3 perspective story. Classic might have had more time for character development and relevance. Also more, mostly consistent, time with him would make us more attached and feel actual emotions about his parting in the very end.

The idea of having Mania connect with forces like that and have a “reason” for Classic to appear is good, but Classic just arrives and is there. For not reason at all besides the sake of being there in order to please 2d/classic enthusiast fans. Great concept in theory, sloppily executed though.

Modern Sonic

The game play was very sloppy as Sonic just could fall off the stage and you just had a very huge lack of control of his speed. Mostly when you were in boost in a place that intended you to boost. The absence of drift was very unnerving.

The thing about Sonic being imprisonment was just. so..... unrealistically done. Sonic just came out of the cage and he’s been doing just fine. But he’s gotta be down, because couldn’t run. He absolutely hates being stuck in a place and it’s been SIX FUCKING MONTHS. The bars are also so far apart he can just slip out. Also Sonic can easily break out of prison.

This was not the first time he was imprisoned. In SA2 he had a far greater emotional response, and he broke out the moment he knew what he had to do to make things right. (He volunteered to be imprisoned in SA2, in forces he was forced in prison.)

This is not just out of character for him, but also very lazy writing. The time skip between was badly done, in a black screen with text. No context as to why Silver is suddenly here (if you didn’t read the comic you have no idea whats going on) or how the resistance formed.

Everyone thinks Sonic died, Knuckles is very upset and admits he cant get used to him being gone; and suddenly he gets the news that Sonic is fine and it doesn't trigger any emotional response in him. Or anyone really much besides Amy; who had refused to believe he died in the first place.

He just immediately goes on a mission and fights Infinite.

Tag Team

It was a very good idea to incorporate this mechanic and was mainly well done and fun; the double and triple boost was a nice lil kick off to regular gameplay.

As mentioned was it never clear who you are playing right now and it didn’t warn you about swiches. It could’ve been done better with the heroes mechanics of swicharound. There were more than enough characters to have multiple teams that could be playable.

Avatar

The custimization options aren’t spectacular, but that was not to be expected. I was positively surprised to have the option to chose between 3 voices. 

Villains

Chaos is. Just there. He wasn't even a boss. He was just there for the shock value/fan service.

The Metal Sonic fight was okay.

Zavok was annoying but okay and reasonable.

Shadow wasn’t even a bossfight he was also just shock-factor. He joined the team but was of very little value. (Except for DLC, will talk abt later.)

Infinite has 4 boss fights. And in the end he just vanishes. He’s basically still existent? I think? what happened? Are we just going to accept this?

The final boss was lame and not memorable at all. At least nega wisp phase 2 was iconic.

Infinite

Infinite is a very interesting character with much potential, which they sadly didn't really use much at all except for him being extra. He didn't show off much of his personality and we couldn't learn to appreciate/hate him. 

The game doesn't mention much about his origin, so you will have to read the online comic in the social medias to understand. This might be good marketing to get consumers to consume media on different platforms, but it does not make much sense for newcomers who know nothing about Sonic and don’t follow the social medias to begin with.

Someone who just picked up the game and it’s their first Sonic game.... They won't understand shit.

I want to see more of him. He got so much potential to grow and ultimately redeem himself. Maybe in a future game? Or in the comics at least.

Episode Shadow

The 3 levels were well. One time it was a sonic level but with shadow and some lil things changed. The other was a custom character level but with shadow. The other was just generic 2d platforming with cubes. None of these were long or new. It was fun, sure, but it wasn't exciting.

I was kinda peeved that even though infinite was revealed, we still didnt get to see his face.

Visuals

Lighting harsh, sometimes interesting, but not completely fleshed out/good/atmospheric. 

There are scenes/levels that have stunning visuals (the sonic level in space and the scene with the sun.) even when its not perfect.

Just. The characters sometimes float above the ground and the lighting is very white and harsh and not atmospheric. (The colors are meessed up and too bright. The characters look like they have a completely different light source from the environment)

EDIT: A DAY AFTER ADDITIONS

okay so a day after, replaying some stages, I still think the game is very fun.

There are quite a few things that are peeving me still. I just remembered the whole null space thing, which is totally wasted potential. You could’ve had a few levels in that space with fucky gravity and weird cube shit going, but you just had to double boost out and that was it.

Many tricks the villain packs out are treated as something they can oercome easily and they just. Win “because they always do”.

I want to see the heroes doubt themselves and have character development. The only character that does have character development at all is the custom character. Infinite arguably does undergo some development too; in episode shadow.

There is a lot of potentials for DLCs and I hope they release them and have more characters playable.