#pixel 9 screen

[rmspeltzfarm]

git it fixed

[sillee]

I would also like to second the YouTube comment. I just subscribed and I am so inspired by your save file and lore and it makes me so excited to play the game again, you made it feel so alive and full.

ahh thank you!!! it is so good to hear this type of thing, honestly! <3 it’s so exciting that my channel can be that for people.

[robpegoraro]

Migrating to a new Android phone without the old one around--or alive

Moving from a dead Android phone to a live one via only an online backup proved to be surprisingly easy--but it also reminded me that a few apps don't react well to that scenario.

I spent less of Sunday morning than I’d feared on a chore that I’d last had to tackle in the summer of 2017: setting up a new Android phone without the old one operational, leaving me to restore only from an online backup. Having this process go smoothly took some of the sting out of having my previously trusty Pixel 5a die on me. So did having this phone’s demise happen while I was at home and…

[shomatoriashi]

01/03/25; 10:00pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they realize that you’re the true mc from behind the screen ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes: this is just my own take on the self aware au! i know other creators who’ve written their own self aware au’s (and have executed them amazingly well!), but i hope that you readers will give my story a chance, too ♡

you never understood the hype that surrounded the game known as love and deepspace-

however, the moment sylus was announced as the newest love interest for this game-

to say you were mildly interested would have been the greatest understatement of the century. when his trailer was revealed, you swore you felt your knees clash together while basking in his pure, masculine beauty.

and his voice- dear god did it sound like pure silk against your ears!

needless to say, you downloaded lads the moment sylus dropped as the latest love interest. when you made your mc, you did your best to model her after your own appearance to the best of your abilities-

however, it seemed impossible to do.

the mc was just too petite and perfect, something that you could never achieve in real life. yet despite it all, you tried your best to customize her to match your features before starting the game. as you struggled with the missions in the main story, you were essentially grinding until the moment you could unlock sylus's story branch-

and the moment when you accomplished it, you were truly on cloud 9, taking an ungodly amount of screenshots each time sylus was on your phone's screen. you kept interacting with him in game, raising his affinity with you to level 50 in a mere few weeks.

it was embarrassing how much you adored this gorgeous man made up entirely of pixels. you always spent quality time with him, bringing him with you when you worked or had to study for an upcoming exam. each time you would glance at your phone and see his devastatingly handsome features cleaning his gun, you would grin and press a kiss on your screen (directly over his cheek!)

were you shameless for feeling so deeply about a fictional man-

absolutely yes. but did you care?

no.

after kissing sylus for what had to be the thousandth time that day, you would go back to your responsibilities, unaware that sylus could hear you and feel the sensation of your kisses against his cheek.

at first, it was maddening for sylus to realize that everything he's been through was made up by some writers at a company. every tragedy was forced upon him for the sake of a good story-

and he hated it.

he hated how his every word was essentially a script made up by that same company and how he was forced to interact with an mc that was just the same as the rest-

yet the moment he realized he could see you settled behind that woman's avatar-

sylus was intrigued, to say the least.

despite how you looked drastically different from the mc, something about you drew him to you more than the mc ever could. for starters, you were a true, living person who had a personality.

and you just seemed so alive each time sylus saw you. the more time he had spent with you, the more his feelings of curiosity turned into something tangible and real-

making sylus yearn for the day you would recognize him noticing you. he stops cleaning his gun just then, simply keeping his crimson gaze on your form as you wrote in your notebook. the hours continue to pass, yet sylus allows the quality time feature to go on even past the 30 minute mark, not stopping until you were done.

as your eyes go back to your phone, you were ready to quit the session when sylus purposely stops you, "no kiss this time? you wound me, little dove."

he basks in your wide eyed expression and the way your mouth was wide open in a gape, chuckling as you waved your hand over the screen-

and sylus was following your every movement.

"you can see me?"

"i think we've made that abundantly clear just now, little dove." he shakes his head, feeling his world tilt slightly when you pick up your phone.

"y-you just spoke to me, and i- i'm your little dove?" a dreamy expression crosses your features as you kept your gaze on sylus. he gives you a rare, tiny smile while reaffirming his nickname for you with a nod, "of course you are. you have always been my little dove since the moment i laid eyes on you."

a cute sound escapes from your parted lips, and he felt himself being jostled around when you began to spin while holding your phone. with his eyebrows lifted in response, he calls out your name while telling you, "you don't seem to be as panicked as i imagined."

"are you kidding me? i-" you cough and give him a sheepish expression, "i actually love you so much, and despite the weirdness of this all, i'm strangely happy."

your words succeed in making sylus feel warm inside-

and he knew he had to find a way to be with you soon.

zayne has always been aware of your existence, since you were a longtime player of his game and have spent most of your time together with him.

strangely enough, he took pride in having the highest affinity with you-

yet when you obtained any of the other love interest's memories, or spent some time with them-

a wave of jealousy would course through zayne's veins. he knew that he was programmed to always feel happy with whatever man you chose-

but he couldn't bring himself to let you go. after all, zayne knew that he loved you the most out of all of them.

he was the one who held your health and wellbeing above all else (even ignoring his own desires to see you during his quality time sessions with you.)

while working on his laptop at the cafe, he was aware of how late it was and was hoping that you were already safe and sound in bed-

so imagine his surprise when he sees you logging into the game, greeting him with a tired smile on your face as you opened up the quality time menu with him.

"hey zaynie, i know it's late, but i need to get these assignments done just to stay ahead. i couldn't find the time to do them earlier, so that's why i'm here."

admittedly, zayne could feel a shiver of pleasure each time you spoke to him, allowing him to bask in the sound of your voice-

yet more so than that was how concerned he was that you wanted to do your assignments at such an ungodly hour. as you pressed on the quality time session, zayne would immediately cancel it. confusion was etched onto your features, making you try again-

only to have zayne cancel the session once more.

"what the hell is going on?"

unable to hide the fact that he could respond to you (and not wishing to ignore you any longer) zayne takes a chance and speaks to you.

"it's too late for you to be studying. you should be in bed, ready to sleep."

your eyebrows furrow in response to his words, uncertain if this was part of his script (it wasn't). unable to stop, zayne continues to lightly scold you, "humans need at least 8 hours of sleep, and i know that you've barely gotten 5 hours the past few days."

"oh my god, what?!" he watches as you pick up your phone, meeting his gaze as an incredulous expression was seen on your face. "zaynie, are you talking to me?"

zayne was conflicted now, pulling at the collar of his shirt before clearing his throat, wanting to be honest with you, "yes... i am talking to you, and if you cared for me and my feelings at all, you would go to bed and work on your assignments in the morning, once you're fully rested."

it takes you a moment to take this all in.

from zayne meeting your gaze and scolding you because he was concerned about your health-

it honestly felt like such a dream come true.

your features end up breaking out into a kind smile, and zayne could feel a blush creeping up against his cheek when you nuzzle your face closer to your phone, "okay zaynie, i'll go to sleep."

cradling the phone close to your chest, you let out a hum while slowly getting into bed. once you were settled in bed, you held up your phone to see zayne looking back at you. he smiles at you, "good girl, now close your eyes and sleep."

he watches as you purse your lips before asking him, "will you stay with me, zayne?"

smiling at your request, he gives you a nod, "of course. i'm not going anywhere." he watches you once more as you cuddle into your comforter, closing your eyes while setting your phone close to you.

and as your breathing evens out, (turning softer), zayne whispers your name, filled with longing and love for you alone.

you had to be experiencing the worst cold of your life as you were settled in bed with your phone in hand, playing love and deepspace as you did some missions with xavier, your true love interest for the game.

in the middle of your battle, you let out a particularly loud sneeze, wiping the snot away from your nose while blowing into a tissue when a tiny voice was heard saying "bless you."

after blowing your nose, you said 'thank you' in response-

only to do a double take.

who just said bless you?

you take a quick scan around your room, coughing here and there-

only to realize that there was no one in sight.

you hear the voice again, this time saying your name as you realized that it sounded familiar to you. looking back at your phone, you saw xavier had already taken out the enemy and was looking directly at you.

you swallow thickly, your voice shaky when you began to speak,

"xavier?"

"yes."

"you can hear me?"

"i was able to hear you since day 1, and you chose to stick with me." xavier was practically grinning now, appearing smug while folding his arms across his chest.

by now, you were feeling dizzy as you slowly sit up in bed, feeling almost feverish while looking into xavier's gorgeous, true blue eyes. xavier has been aware of your presence this whole time-

and that fact was enough to make a surge of warmth course through you.

"you... you have always been able to see me?" you ask xavier in a shy voice, earning an earnest nod from him, "yes, and..." he trails off while pressing a hand against your screen, "i'm sorry that i'm unable to take care of you when you're feeling so sick."

"n-no! don't worry about it... i'm just happy that you're here... with me."

a sweet smile paints xavier's expression, coupled along with a gentle chuckle. "i'm happy to be with you, too. and i'm happy that you chose me over them."

realizing what xavier meant, you gave him the best smile you could manage while wiping at your nose with a new tissue, "i will always choose you, xavi."

hearing your admission causes a surge of possessiveness to course through xavier's veins. and while you smiled back at him, the philos prince was thinking of ways to forever keep your smiles for himself.

feeling the need to clean your house and do some chores around it, you decide to spend some quality time with rafayel, the hot lemurian you fell in love with ever since you began playing love and deepspace. with his pretty, pouty face on your screen, you began cleaning, moving around your kitchen and living room while wiping down each surface you could see.

you spent a few hours cleaning, with rafayel seeming to sketch during his quality time session with you, which felt odd. usually, after 30 minutes, the game would notify you, asking if you'd like to continue the session as you confirmed it-

yet now, that didn't seem to happen.

you saw no notification-

and rafayel was still sketching on your screen.

with a shrug, you figured the game probably updated and added this new feature, where you didn't have to constantly renew the 30 minutes during your quality time with rafayel. feeling thirsty now, you pick up your phone and head into the kitchen, setting your phone on the counter as you went into the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

"hey princess! where did you go?! i can't see you!"

you nearly dropped your water bottle in response, hearing rafayel's voice coming from your phone. "come on princess, don't leave me hanging, where are you?"

was this a new script?

closing your fridge, you step closer to your phone, seeing rafayel's pout. picking it up, allowing rafayel to finally see you, he was smiling now while winking at you. "there you are, princess! are you done doing all that work?"

words were unable to form as you were left gaping at him, making the artist chuckle while shaking his head, "you look like a goldfish, which is pretty cute! oh, before i forget!"

rafayel pulls back, revealing his sketchbook to you. your heart was felt clenching slightly before racing upon realizing every sketch was about you-

not your mc in game.

the realization of it all had you reeling, with your hands gripping at your counter when you addressed rafayel. "rafe, you can see me?"

"of course i can, always have been able to, princess." he has the audacity to make your heart flutter the moment he gives you another wink. "and let me just say, i've been loving what i've been seeing so far, princess."

by now, you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, unable to hide your grin as you cling to your phone all while basking in rafayel's flirty and playful words-

yet little did you know, somewhere along the way, rafayel had genuinely fallen head over heels for you, keeping each painting and sculpture he had made of you hidden so that you would never know-

at least, not yet.

end notes: i'm so happy to write a story like this, where all the lads men truly are so META and wish to be with YOU-

and not the mc (⺣◡⺣)♡

this is currently unedited, but i shall make any changes the moment this story is posted!

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[blorbocedes]

BLONDE TWINK BARES IT ALL! GETS A MASSAGE ;)

williams!era nico gets a massage by dr.dot for RTL in a video that looks like a casting couch bad porn intro. 1/2/2009

below i explain the lengths i went to find this 👇 its v long

so our story starts a few months ago when i began frantically dming my oldest nicologist friend @colors-of-feeling if she remembered this video. I had only half remembered recollections at this point, and i really only remembered the video because it looks so much like a casting couch porn intro. I know I screenshot it but I went through my gallery and couldn't find it. i knew I had seen it a very long time ago and care is one of my first mutuals, so anything nico I've seen she's seen. she doesn't rmbr 😓

now im like holy shit did i make it up. still i plead care to turn her archive public so i can go through it. no luck. i went through my own archive, even though i know I didn't reblog it because it had been a youtube link instead of the video. and i regretted it so bad, because i know that low quality few hundred or thousand views videos from 2000s is basically lost footage because youtubes search is basically incomprehensible. I also went through the archives of other blogs that nico posted back in 2021 for any sign that I didn't just project and Imagine it. no luck.

feeling defeated i go to my final hope, the nicologist of all nicologists @distantlaughter... with only half baked and increasingly hysterical descriptors "umm its like a casting couch video! a boat! but the boat is parked 🤔 maybe the masseuse had pigtails" i rambled, normally like a normal person.

ren the absolute darling immediately pops up with a video of shirtless nico get massaged. its not.

and another one. not that either 😓 we underestimated just how much nico posted getting a shirtless massage.

finally. FINALLY. ren dms me like 10 seconds of this video hidden in a nico rosberg compilation fan video that is even in worse quality. but it's this video!!!!!! it EXISTS!!! im not crazy....... but that 3 pixel collage was proof that it was real, but alas not post worthy. There was an RTL logo in the corner so in one final futile search, we searched RTL archives which unfortunately did not go far enough. We were doing literal detective work like from the 10 seconds of the fanvid we concluded it was like, probably an RTL monaco promo video hence the coastline and the boat, and given nico's hair length it must be williams (or 2010 merc). but nothing further than that. still ren is the absolute goat nicologist who figured it out from just my descriptions alone 🙏🙏🙏

with that I ended my search, knowing it was real at least, even if it wasn't the full video.

today i got a storage full notification. so I started frantically deleting random videos I had on my phone from years. and buried in august 9, 2022 almost exactly TWO years ago . was 5 seconds of this video and the when the screen recording closed you could see it was from a video called Dr. Dot.

this time im posting the video, im also going to ask @argentinagp to gif it so this buried, almost lost footage less than 1k youtube video can get a second life again, and so we can all enjoy weird late 2000s whoring drivers out. ❤️

all of this could be avoided if simply 2 years ago I had reblogged and tagged the original link. archival work is often thankless and pointless but wow, sometimes it can feel so rewarding. so enjoy!

which brings me to the most important part. doesn't he totally look like a twink in a bad porno here?

[noira-l]

𝐁𝐞𝐝𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: Satoru tells a bedtime story for Megumi and Tsumiki. Every fairy tale contains a small kernel of truth, doesn't it?

warnings: fluff, family moment, slice of life.

author's note: I wonder if this bedtime story reminds you of something? c;

cute weakling ❤︎: Gonna be late. Can you tell a bedtime story tonight?

9:53 pm

His phone buzzed beside him, and he glanced over at the screen. It was a message from you.

Satoru lay sprawled on his stomach across the plush carpet of Tsumiki's room, the soft peach-pink walls around him bathed in the golden glow of a bedside lamp. The room was a gentle contrast to the world outside, filled with warm hues and comforting details - a scattering of stuffed animals, shelves filled with picture books and games, and the faint scent of lavender from the candle burning on the dresser. Tsumiki had always been drawn to soft, feminine colors, and her room reflected that. Even the curtains, a delicate blush shade, seemed to frame the night outside with a sense of calm and peace.

you: oh, now you're trusting me with the bedtime stories?? risky move

9:54 pm

you: guess that means i get to make it up… should it be about an all-powerful sorcerer who’s also really really good-looking?

9:54 pm

He grinned softly, shaking his head.

Of course, you were always thinking about the kids, even when you were caught up in the chaos of missions.

cute weakling ❤︎: Please don’t traumatize them with one of your “I saved the world” stories. Keep it simple. And PG means no curses.

9:55 pm

He chuckled.

you: me? curses? i’m a role model, remember?

9:55 pm

cute weakling ❤︎: Sure. A "role model" who once told Megumi that all vegetables were cursed objects

9:56 pm

you: hey, they could be. u never know what’s hiding in that broccoli

9:56 pm

cute weakling ❤︎ : Satoru...

9:57 pm

you: fine, i’ll keep it chill. no world-saving tonight. probably

9:57 pm

you: but u owe me one for this. storytime isn’t free, you know. i accept payment in snacks or… well, i'll think of something ;)

9:57 pm

He felt a small weight shift on his lower back.

Megumi, always so quiet and focused, was lying beside him with his head resting on Satoru’s spine, a children's science book in front of him. He was completely absorbed in the intricate diagrams and simplified explanations of how volcanoes worked, his little brow furrowed in concentration. Every so often, Megumi’s feet would twitch, the way they did when he was deeply engaged in something, but he never once moved from his spot against Satoru.

Tsumiki was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her fingers rapidly clicking away at Satoru’s old gameboy. Her brow furrowed in concentration, but a smile played on her lips, clearly enjoying the challenge of the pixelated world in front of her.

Satoru shifted slightly, adjusting himself under Megumi’s weight before propping his chin up on his hands.

"So..." he started, glancing between the two kids, his voice cutting through the calm "Looks like your mom’s running a bit late tonight. Guess it’s up to me to entertain you two."

Megumi barely looked up from his book, muttering something under his breath about having read enough stories on his own to last a lifetime. Typical Megumi - always more interested in facts than fantasy. But Tsumiki, on the other hand, paused her game just long enough to glance over at Satoru with wide, curious eyes.

"A bedtime story?" she asked, her voice soft but hopeful.

Satoru flashed her a grin "That’s right. I’m the backup storyteller tonight."

He could see the excitement flash across her face, even if she tried to hide it behind a casual shrug. Tsumiki always pretended to be more grown-up than she actually was, but Satoru knew better. She still loved the idea of fairy tales, of fantastical worlds where anything was possible. And while Megumi acted indifferent, Satoru could tell he was listening - he always was.

"Well ~" Satoru continued, rolling onto his side to get a better view of the both of them "How about I tell you a story about a powerful sorcerer who was so strong, even the curses were afraid of him?”

Megumi snorted, finally lifting his eyes from the pages of his book "Is this story about you?"

"Who else could it be about? You think there’s someone stronger than me out there?" Satoru grinned, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes.

Tsumiki giggled from her spot on the bed, her gameboy forgotten in her lap "Boring~ Can you tell another story?" she asked, leaning forward, eager for something new.

Satoru was thinking for a moment.

"You’re just going to make something up, aren’t you?" aked Megumi, who was not so interested.

"Making things up is half the fun, Megumi! But..." he said, stretching his arms behind his head and settling into the carpet like a lounging cat "If you’re so smart, maybe you should tell the story tonight."

Megumi just rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he went back to his book.

"No, thanks." he muttered.

Tsumiki glanced between the two boys "Okay, okay." she said, her voice soft but filled with anticipation "What story are you going to tell us then?"

Satoru sat there, dramatically crossing his legs like a storyteller about to recount an ancient legend. Megumi sat down on the bed, next to Tsumiki. His expression was unfazed and sceptical of the idea.

Satoru rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief "Alright, kids. Tonight, I’m going to tell you a tale - one full of love, betrayal, darkness, and light. A real fairy tale." he emphasized the last words dramatically, leaning in as if sharing a grand secret.

Tsumiki’s eyes widened with excitement, while Megumi, ever the skeptic, muttered "You’re just going to make it up as you go along."

Satoru gasped, putting a hand to his heart "How dare you! This is a story full of truth and wisdom, young knight. Just listen." he paused, the room filled with that perfect hush that happens just before a story begins.

"Once upon a time..." Satoru started, his voice low and mysterious "...in a kingdom not far from here, there was a young girl - let’s call her a Star. She had magical powers beyond anyone’s imagination. But she didn’t live in this kingdom alone, oh no. She had a friend, a wizard, the Moon, who was always by her side. They were inseparable, as close as they were twinkling in the same sky."

Tsumiki’s eyes gleamed with interest, hugging her stuffed bunny tighter "What kind of magic did she have?"

Satoru grinned, loving the attention "Ah, well, she had a very special kind of magic." he said, waving his hand theatrically "She could take other people's powers and use them as her own. A rare and powerful gift, don’t you think?"

Tsumiki nodded eagerly, while Megumi, though pretending to be uninterested, was clearly listening closely.

"Star and Moon grew up together, laughing, learning magic, and protecting their kingdom from danger. But they had another friend - another powerful wizard - let's call him a Sun." Satoru continued, gesturing grandly as if revealing a critical plot twist.

Tsumiki giggled, Satoru pressed on, his voice growing more animated.

"The three of them were the best of friends, their magic combining to protect their land. But then, one day, our little Star had to leave. She was sent to train with a master sorcerer in a distant land, to become even stronger. For an entire year, she couldn’t speak to anyone - not even her closest friends. It was a harsh and lonely training, full of cold winds and long, silent nights. But she knew it was her duty, and so she left, trusting that her friend and beloved one, would be waiting for her when she returned."

Megumi shifted again, leaning closer to the story despite himself "What happened while she was gone?"

Satoru’s expression shifted, becoming more solemn, more serious "Ah, well... this is where the tale takes a darker turn. While the Star was away, the Moon went on a dangerous mission. But the mission didn’t go well. The darkness of the world consumed him, crept into his heart, and he became the dark version of himself. The darkness twisted him, made him do terrible things. He burned down villages, destroyed homes... including the village where the Star and he himself was born."

Tsumiki’s face fell, and even Megumi’s usually stoic expression shifted into a frown.

"Why did he do that?" Tsumiki whispered.

Satoru sighed dramatically, his eyes full of faux sorrow "It wasn’t really the Moon anymore, he lost his way. The darkness had taken his judgment. When the Star returned, she found everything gone - her home, her people, her family. And worst of all, her friend and love of her life, Moon, was lost by her, consumed by that very darkness. She was devastated."

Megumi furrowed his brow "So, what did she do?"

Satoru leaned forward, lowering his voice "She didn’t want to see anyone. Not even the Sun. She felt like everything was her fault, beacuse she was gone when Moon needed her and she couldn't save him, so she locked herself away, not wanting to face the world."

Tsumiki’s face scrunched up with sympathy "That’s so sad."

Satoru nodded gravely, though a playful glint remained in his eyes.

"Indeed it was. But this is where the Sun comes in. You see, he wasn’t just going to let her be sad and alone forever. Oh no. He knew that she still mattered, not just to him, but to the world. So he stayed by her side - whether she liked it or not."

Tsumiki grinned "That sounds like you."

Satoru smirked "I told you it’s based on a true story." he winked before continuing, his voice growing softer, more serious "Sun reminded Star that he is just the same. That he is also a star... the brightest in the entire celestial sky. He showed her that he understands her in his own way. He reminded that she was loved, that she was needed, and that even though things were hard, she wasn’t alone. Slowly, she began to realize that her life wasn’t just about the past or what she’d lost. She had new people who cared about her. That soon, she will have a new family. And so, they made a promise to each other - a promise never to leave each other’s side, no matter how dark the world got, no matter how far apart they were."

The room grew quiet as his words sank in. Tsumiki looked at Satoru with wide eyes, while Megumi was quiet, processing the story in his usual thoughtful way.

"So..." Satoru said with a flourish "the Sun and Star, well, they lived in a world filled with challenges, but they faced them together. They became friends, family even, stronger because they chose not to face things alone."

Tsumiki tilted her head, a question brewing in her young mind "What happened to Moon?"

Satoru’s smile faltered for just a moment, a shadow crossing his features. He didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his voice was softer, more careful "He’s still out there, somewhere. But that’s a story for another day."

The kids sat in silence for a while, digesting the story.

Eventually, Megumi broke the quiet "What’s the moral of the story?" he asked.

Satoru smiled, this time a little less teasing, a little more genuine "The moral is that no matter how difficult the experiences we face, we can always find light in them. The Moon forget that. Even when things are hard. And even when you feel like you’re alone... you never really are. You can find light even in the gloomiest darkness."

Tsumiki nodded, her eyes shining softly "That’s a good story, Satoru."

He grinned again "Of course it is. Now, it’s bedtime. And no complaints!"

Megumi rolled his eyes, but a small, almost hidden smile tugged at his lips "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Satoru carefully tucked the blanket around Tsumiki, his fingers brushing gently through her hair, as she blinked sleepily up at him "Sleep tight, little one." he whispered, smiling softly as her eyes fluttered shut.

Next, he turned to Megumi, who stood by the door, arms crossed, his usual cool composure in place.

As they stepped into the hallway, Satoru slung an arm around Megumi’s shoulders and asked with a teasing grin.

"So, want me to tuck you in too? Maybe even tell you a bedtime story like Tsumiki got?"

Megumi shot him a flat look "No, thanks."

"Thought so." Satoru chuckled, but despite Megumi’s resistance, Satoru gave his hair a quick ruffle anyway, much to Megumi’s annoyance "Goodnight, kiddo."

Leaving Megumi to retreat to his room, Satoru wandered into your bedroom, the soft click of the door closing behind him. He flopped onto the bed and grabbed his old gameboy, the one he took from the nightstand in Tsumiki's room, knowing full well that if he didn’t keep an eye on it, she’d likely sneak out of bed and play until morning.

Lying back, he thumbed the controls absentmindedly, the sound of pixelated beeps filling the room as he focused on beating her high score. Minutes turned into an hour, his eyes still glued to the screen, when he heard the door creak open behind him.

You entered, looking exhausted, already dressed in your pyjamas. You didn’t say anything, just collapsed onto the bed next to him with a groan.

Satoru glanced over at you with a smirk, still tapping at the buttons on the gameboy "I left your clean clothes in the bathroom" he said, his teasing tone gentler now "Figured you’d need them."

"I know, thank you." you murmured, barely keeping your eyes open.

He set the gameboy down and watched you for a moment, eyes softer than usual as he took in the weariness etched on your face "You want a bedtime story too? I’m on a roll tonight."

You laughed "Funny."

You were too tired to say much more, and after a long pause, you sighed and rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.

Satoru leaned back next to you, the playful energy draining away as a comfortable silence settled between you both.

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

tl (open): @kalopsia-flaneur

[idesofrevolution]

Precursor

"Jesus, Danny I don't know what the fuck to do about it, okay? He just fuckin' got me out of no where." Click, clack. Click, clack. The tapping of his fingers on the mouse and keyboard were the only sounds echoing in the dark room aside from his shouts. "Well, I how the fuck should I know? I told you I wasn't good at this game! You're the one who kept begging me to play it, and it's bullshit dude!" For a game that was supposed to be this fun phenomenon, 'Precursor' was proving to be quite a bit lesser than Greg anticipated. Danny had begged him for weeks to join the game and do a couple of rounds with him, if only to get him hooked. For Greg, a video game was like Civilization or Cities Skylines... building something great with strategy and creativity. To him, this was a boring shoot 'em up that had a steep learning curve, and it was grating on his nerves. "Well, dude I told you I didn't know how to play this stupid game but you wouldn't take no for an answer!"

Another red screen and the words 'Exterminated' were sprawled across the screen. Greg slammed his fists down onto the desk, spilling his Red Bull all over his lap. He threw his head back in yet another defeat, his seventh in the span of an hour. Looking down at his phone, the late hour had all but caused him even further grief.

"You know what, dude? This game fucking sucks. I don't know why you wanted me to play with you." Danny, surely kicking ass on the battlefront from somewhere behind his screen in Oklahoma hundreds of miles away, was less than enthused. "Ya know what, fine. I will do the fucking noob lobby, okay? I swear to God, though, if this shit doesn't get fun in ten minutes I'm loggin' off." Greg disconnected from his online pal and reentered back into the main menu. He sighed, how the fuck could anyone without a trigger-happy index finger and a desire to think about their options for more than a split second find this game fun? To him, it was all reflexes and no brain power. Clicking through the main menu, he searched for the "Noob" lobby in the available servers. He scrolled for an agonizing ten seconds of full lobbies before he gave up.

"Man, fuck this." He was a single moment away from clicking that exit button before his elbow slipped on some of the Red Bull that had spilled onto the desktop. His wrist banged onto the keys, leaving a string of gibberish into the searchbar. He grabbed one of his clean socks from the floor and sopped up the syrupy water and tossed it behind him over his shoulder. Whatever. Turning back to his screen, to his utter astonishment, the search for 'pjdkluyoikms' had come up with a single hit: 3/9 players in the lobby. Greg looked down at his phone again, 3:30 in the morning grimaced back at him. He'd have to be up in 4 hours if he'd kept the job he quit a few days prior, but with unemployment looming over his head the hours didn't seem so important to him. The game was known for being a time void, sucking in every available minute it's players had to use.

"Fuck it." He clicked join, and waited as the lobby began to load. For a second, his monitor became severely pixelated, but quickly returned to normal. Before long, he was met with the game mode selection and a couple of voices chatting amongst the static. Bruiser, Scout, Sniper, Runner, Bomber... He didn't know how to use a single one of these characters and in the back of his mind, he wasn't keen on being embarrassed yet again for another hour of failures.

"Who's this?" One of the voices from the ether bellowed out from his headphones, and for whatever reason his skin flushed with goosebumps. "Yo, new guy, did you mean to come here? It's a private server."

"Ahh, shit. I'm sorry, my friend made me buy this game and I don't know what I'm doing. I'll find another, my bad!" Greg scampered to try and just choose a character so he could exit out of the menu, but a second voice gave him immediate pause. It was unlike the other players he'd met so far, in that he wasn't a complete dick right off the bat.

"Nahh, it's cool! We could use a runner this round if you're down? We can take it easy, right boys?" His voice was smooth, chill, if not a bit high pitched in a tenor timbre. The guy could have a career in anime protagonist voice acting if he'd put his mind to it, Greg was quickly put at ease with just a single word.

"You think he can keep up?" the third voice, husky and deep questioned.

"We've played with worse, bro. Remember Clive before Mick got to him? We lost four rounds before Mick got it to stick! He won't fuck up, will ya new guy?" Greg nervously chuckled, knowing full well he'd be terrible in the beginning either way.

"Uhhhh, give me a round or two to get the hang of it... I'm sure I can do it. Nothing better to do anyway."

"That's the spirit! See? He's gonna be great. I'll get him up to snuff." A fall of silence came over the server, Greg shifted in his seat. "Alright, newbie. Just choose runner and I got your back. I used to main runner, so I can show you the ropes." Taking a deep breath, Greg clicked on the avatar for Runner, and hit accept. He entered the lobby, seeing the three players had already chosen their avatars. 1: lostdestiny (scout), 2: EdgeRunner (bruiser), 3: ironclad (bomber), and now 4: Greg (runner).

ironclad: I take it you're Greg, then?

Greg: What gave it away?

The three others chuckled, and the loadbar began to fill. Greg could feel the anxiety and anticipation grow within him. He was about to faceplant AGAIN, and in front of these strangers. At least it wouldn't be long until he'd be kicked anyway.

EdgeRunner: Aight, listen up man. I can't be a babysitter, but I'll be following you. Just do what I tell you to do and you'll be fine. You got this, man. Yeah?

Greg: Uh, yeah man. I'll do my best.

lostdestiny: Don't worry guys, he's gonna do his best.

EdgeRunner: Pipe down, will ya, Des? Fuck. Alright, here we go. Lay low and let them come out on their own.

The four of them were dumped onto the map, this one seemed to be some dirty Cyberpunk city in the rain. Sooner rather than later, it'd be a warzone. Greg sat gobsmacked, frozen in place as the others ran for cover.

ironclad: Yo, get to cover, they'll be here any fuckin' second!

Greg: Whuh.... What do I do, where do I go?

EdgeRunner: Turn to your left, there's a hidden door in the bodega. Hold shift and run. Go!

Greg did as he was told, holding down the shift bar and going toward the store on the corner of the street. He was unprepared for just how quickly he would get there, running straight into the wall to the left of the door. Runner indeed. Rounding the doorway, he snuck down the aisles, and up to the door. He burst in, plowing through stacked boxes and into the racks of the storeroom.

EdgeRunner: Aight, you can let go of the shift, bud.

lostdestiny: Fuck, we're so screwed. We lose out on this one it's on you Edge, and I'm not coughin' up a single coin.

EdgeRunner: Des, hit your fuckin' vape and keep your eyes peeled. I'll worry about the new kid. Greg, hang tight. Wait for me to give you a signal, then you run to the hotel down the street. Got it?

Greg chuckled to himself, he'd stumbled into quite the little gang. These guys were far from noobs, they were good if not professionals. From behind the closed door, he sat idly, waiting with bated breath for Edge to give him the unmentioned word. Over his headphones, he could hear the trio plotting as if they were soldiers planning their attack.

EdgeRunner: Iron, be position. They're gonna come barreling down that alley like a fuckin' stampede, so nuke 'em until I can get there. Des, they in sight yet?

lostdestiny: Just like you said, boss man. Comin' in hot.

EdgeRunner: Perfect. Greg. There's a glowing purple crate in the corner. Open it and pick up whatever is in it, and do it quick.

Greg fumbled over the keys, searching the dark room until he saw the glowing purple box hidden beneath a pile of trash. Clicking on it, the box opened, shucking all the garbage atop it onto the floor. Inside sat a strange green vial.

Greg: Its... It's a glass syringe? Glowing green stuff inside.

EdgeRunner: That's what you're looking for. Bag it and get ready to run.

Greg slipped it into his bag. The syringe showed up as 'upgrade' in the inventory, but no other information was provided. Usually, at least, there was some sort of witty description for the items in-game. Might be modded, he thought to himself, not that he would know anyway. He positioned himself by the door, holding his breath.

ironclad: Fireworks.

EdgeRunner: Now, Greg. Go!

His left pinky firmly planted on the shift key, Greg burst out of the door, through the store and into the street. Outside, a barrage of AI cop grunts were surrounding the building across the way. Pillars of smoke and fire erupted from bombs being dropped from the roof, a massive lug of muscle being the culprit with Ironclad's red tag hovering above him. From within the crowd, an explosion of grunts flew through the air, and dead in the center of the action was EdgeRunner, a maxxed out avatar oozing athleticism and strength with a nearly full level bar floating above him. Fuck, who were these guys?

EdgeRunner: Don't fuckin' freeze on us, Greg. Run!

Taking the hint, Greg bolted down the street, weaving past smoke bombs and gunfire until he made it to the hotel's revolving door, shattering the glass as he crashed through. Inside, three grunts stood behind the front desk, quickly pulling out absurdly massive guns.

Greg: Edge, there's guys in here, they got big ass motherfucking guns too.

EdgeRunner: Fuck, okay. Hold control, shift, and Y. Then run to the elevator. Do it before they peg ya!

Greg: Fuck!

EdgeRunner: Iron, toss a few into the hotel. Help the kid out.

ironclad: On it.

Greg could hear the whistling in the air of the incoming bombs flying toward the lobby. He held down the keys and ran toward the elevators as instructed. Though, as he did, waves of colors surrounded his avatar, deflecting the bullets as they flew before the explosions behind him came bursting in. As the elevator doors closed in front of him, he saw the XP points flowing into his bar from the dead grunts. The elevator began to climb.

EdgeRunner: Woooooooooo baby! That's what I call a bait n switch! Kid, you're a natural.

lostdestiny: Beginner's luck.

EdgeRunner: It's gonna be a second before that elevator gets to the top level. Regroup at the hotel, they'll be swarming him. Des, you're on the 99th floor, right?

lostdestiny: Best view in the city.

EdgeRunner: Keep watch, we'll be there in a second. New guy will be on your floor in a couple of minutes. Greg, let's do a one-on-one, yeah?

On the screen, a side window popped up in the bottom corner. Incoming call: EdgeRunner 1 on 1. Fuck, was this guy trying to video chat?

Greg: Uhhhh, I didn't know you could cam...

EdgeRunner: What, you ain't jackin' off are ya? C'mon lemme see.

Greg waited for a moment, nervous beyond words. Watch it be some 60 year old gaming in his mom's basement, was this really the kind of guy he'd want to game with anyway? The curiosity had only crept up since he stumbled into the server, it's not as if they were meeting in real life or anything. It's a screen. He nodded to himself, as if to give himself permission, and clicked on the accept button. In the corner box, EdgeRunner himself popped into focus.

Not what he expected whatsoever. He wasn't much older than Greg, maybe late twenties, early thirties. That was a relief. His room was shrouded in a blue hue, pairing nicely with his ID tag color in game. He was covered in ink from the forehead down, with white hair and a nice pair of pecs cropped just out of view. Again, far from what he expected to see.

"What's up, Greggo?" He smirked, as if studying Greg from behind his lens.

"Yeah... In an elevator. On my computer." Edge laughed, taking his eye contact away to refocus on his game.

"Playin' pretty fuckin' well so far. You sure you never played before now?" Greg found himself blushing a tad bit at this hunk of a man, alarmingly similar to the stud avatar he portrayed online. "Might have to keep you around if you keep up at this rate." The ping of the elevator reaching the 99th floor brought him right back into the world, as the doors opened to a tall, lanky guy with his back to him.

"Des, I presume?"

lostdestiny: Who the fuck else would it be? Mommie? Get to the loot at the end of the hall, fifth door on the right.

"Des isn't the sweetest fruit in the basket. Don't mind him. But get to the room as quick as you can, bud." Holding down the shift key yet again, though now as if it were second nature to him, he bolted down the hall, dodging the mines which littered the floor. "Yeah, don't be up in your feelings about it, but the upgrade is for you, kid. If I were you, I'd take it now while you can. Get you on our level quicker, if ya catch my drift." Greg didn't think twice. He opened the inventory, clicked on the vial, and hit use. His avatar quickly pulled out the syringe from off screen, jamming it into his wrist. The liquid quickly flowed into his avatar, but changes were slow. He arrived at the door, opening them to a boardroom overlooking the whole city, bathed in a purple hue.

Greg: What am I looking for exactly?

ironclad: You'll know it when you see it. Find it quick, they're coming up.

As Greg began to search through the shelves and drawers lining the walls, he was too preoccupied to notice the veins of black starting to flow from his fingertips up his limber arms. While he may have been too focused to see, Edge was watching eagerly in the bottom corner with a giant grin forming on his face. His little window closed, leaving Greg in his search.

lostdestiny: Incoming. Edge, would be a really fuckin' great time for you to pull some fuckshit about now!

Explosions rung out in the hallway, and an eruption of bullets soon followed. Greg felt the pressure bearing down on him, he felt heavier, as if the weight of the situation were sitting atop him like boulders. But hidden in the darkness of his room, the black veins crawled higher and higher, across his shoulders and back, creeping up the back of his neck, until he felt a pinch right at the base of his skull. Instant headrush.

The world got blurry in a mere second, his ears started to ring and his muscles began to pulse. Though, in that moment, he felt something else swelling within him: confidence. Control, Shift, C. The boardroom went blue, a glowing yellow aura radiated from behind one of the walls. Greg smiled, bolting to the wall. Alt, D, F7. The shelves shuddered, then slowly retracted into a dark void. The payload sat at the end of a long, dark hallway on a spotlit pedestal. Some crazy mechanical contraption, it seemed. Though he didn't know what it was, he knew inherently that this is what he was looking for. Just as Iron said.

Greg: Bingo.

EdgeRunner: Careful, newbie. Watch the walls.

A single step forward, and red lasers began to shoot left and right. An hour earlier, he'd be pissing himself on an 'exterminated' screen, raging to no one but himself. Though now, as he felt the energy coursing through his body, the corner of his lip shifted upward, his brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. Showtime.

Alt, Shift, F2, Q, L... the keys flew by beneath his fingers as he dodged, rolled, and lept past every sensor. The keyboard could barely keep up as his hands danced across it. It was an invigoration he'd never experienced before, an expertise he'd never felt, a self he'd never known. Every new trap before him was a piece of cake, avoiding them before they'd even triggered. In the span of fifteen seconds, he'd arrived at the pedestal. The Carpe Diem. A major upgrade, far above his current standing, but it would fetch a pretty price for the right punk. The massive implant somehow fit in his inventory, he was thankful he wasn't on a real job, lugging this around would have been a task in and of itself.

Greg: Payload in hand. Ready to get the fuck out of here.

EdgeRunner: Gonna be a messy exit, kid. You up for it?

Greg: Don't have to flirt that nasty with me, Edge. Treat me tender.

He spun around, leaping down the entire hallway in one go. Thank you Shift, T, S. The crew stood at the door to the boardroom, perhaps a hundred grunts firing everything they had not far behind. Greg looked at every corner, and realized quickly what Edge meant. He turned around, looking at the massive glass wall overlooking Sunset City. His massive feet tapped against the wooden floor beneath his desk, itching for the run he was about to embark upon, his body begging for the rush... his muscles aching for the wind on his skin. He smirked. No second thoughts, he burst through the window.

ironclad: Fuck kid! That's one way out I guess!

EdgeRunner: Bail, boys! Let's fly.

Freefalling, Greg felt the cool breeze of his plummet on the lids of his closed eyes. Soon, but not yet. He had a job to finish. Control, Shift, C. His fall became a sprint, every footfall landing softly on the glass below, looking 99 floors straight down to the pavement.

GreWind: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

Exhiliration. Excitement. Freedom. He was free. Coasting on the diagonal glass, he surfed down the building until he came painlessly onto the sidewalk below, followed not too far behind by Des landing in a bush, Iron on his face, and Edge on his own two feet. The quartet sped toward the four bikes parked along the street, making their swift getaway. As Wind wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, letting the ripe waft of pits beam from his arms. Incoming 1 on 1 from EdgeRunner. He of course had to reem in the accolades, smiling as he hit accept. Edge popped up in the corner of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Now that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about! That upgrade did ya good, new kid." Wind smirked, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss to his studly boss man.

"You can show me your appreciation later, babe. Worked up a storm for ya." Wind flexed his arms, licking the sweat from his bicep and running his hand through his bright green hair.

"Heh, yeah, you're gonna fit in just fine. This'll fetch a nice penny from the middleman. Now, whaddya say, Greg? Ready for the real work?" Edge winked and his window closed.

EdgeRunner: Rendezvous at Checkpoint's. Your cuts will be waiting for you.

Stormwind: Aye, aye Captain.

lostdestiny: Shit, you two get a room already.

EdgeRunner: Nah, you're gonna sit and watch me fuck him raw and nasty, Des.

Stormwind: Won't be the last if you're nice, Des.

ironclad: I swear, if newbie is gonna be cumdump, I'm gonna be on whatever job he's on.

Stormwind: Plenty to go around, boys. Better be ready to clean this dick and worship these feet. They run real fast for y'all and they could use a tongue bath, won't even need any poppers. Freebase, baby.

EdgeRunner: See you at Checkpoint's, Wind. Welcome to the team.

[adafruit]

🎄💾🗓️ Day 9: Retrocomputing Advent Calendar - The Apple Lisa 🎄💾🗓️

The Apple Lisa, introduced on January 19, 1983, was a pioneering personal computer notable for its graphical user interface (GUI) and mouse input, a big departure from text-based command-line interfaces. Featured a Motorola 68000 CPU running at 5 MHz, 1 MB of RAM (expandable to 2 MB), and a 12-inch monochrome display with a resolution of 720×364 pixels. The system initially included dual 5.25-inch "Twiggy" floppy drives, later replaced by a single 3.5-inch Sony floppy drive in the Lisa 2 model. An optional 5 or 10 MB external ProFile hard drive provided more storage.

The Lisa's price of $9,995 (equivalent to approximately $30,600 in 2023) and performance issues held back its commercial success; sales were estimated at about 10,000 units.

It introduced advanced concepts such as memory protection and a document-oriented workflow, which influenced future Apple products and personal computing.

The Lisa's legacy had a huge impact on Apple computers, specifically the Macintosh line, which adopted and refined many of its features. While the Lisa was not exactly a commercial success, its contributions to the evolution of user-friendly computing interfaces are widely recognized in computing history.

These screen pictures come from Adafruit fan Philip " It still boots up from the Twiggy hard drive and runs. It also has a complete Pascal Development System." …"mine is a Lisa 2 with the 3.5” floppy and the 5 MB hard disk. In addition all of the unsold Lisa machines reached an ignominious end."

What end was that? From the Verge -

In September 1989, according to a news article, Apple buried about 2,700 unsold Lisa computers in Logan, Utah at a very closely guarded garbage dump. The Lisa was released in 1983, and it was Apple’s first stab at a truly modern, graphically driven computer: it had a mouse, windows, icons, menus, and other things we’ve all come to expect from “user-friendly” desktops. It had those features a full year before the release of the Macintosh.

Article, and video…

Check out the Apple Lisa page on Wikipedia

, the Computer History's article -

and the National Museum of American History – Behring center -

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

[silk-flower]

Gentle Glow, A Heart's Whisper [James Sunderland X Reader]

anon asked: it seems like James just suffers so much even in fanfics 😭 can he and female reader have something good happen to them at least on Christmas? I just want this man to be happy...

synopsis: It's Christmas Eve, and it appears like the time is against him in these final days of the year. James' darling is waiting for him at home to have Christmas dinner together, but he is working late and doubts he will make it in time. What's the holdup on a holiday like this? You fall asleep on the couch while waiting.

status: oneshot, read on AO3

content warning: female reader, reader described as pale in some parts [?], self-deprecating thoughts, grieving and trying to move on, men crying, established relationship, fluff, romance and kissing n stuff, a Christmas trope

author's note: This was a request that came in before my previous blog got suspended and I didn't have a chance to post it! Wherever this finds you, sorry if this took too long, hope you'll enjoy. Also, this is really long, I got a little carried away...

Aside from the faint hum of fluorescent lights, the sporadic click of keys and clinking of coffee cups as James works on his computer, the office is silent. In an attempt to finish some last-minute work before the holiday break, he has been at his desk for hours on end, sustaining himself on copious amounts of caffeine. Outside, the world is blanketed in snow like in a magical fairy tale, but inside, it's just another bland day at the office. Except today, he's eager to actually leave early instead of taking extra hours.

James glances at the clock on his computer screen. A bunch of gray pixels mockingly blinks 9:30 PM at him. His fingers drop and pull off his computer glasses as he groans and runs a hand through his hair in annoyance. Sensing the impending headache, he closes his eyes and rubs the lids. Just his luck, huh?

He knows you're waiting for him at home, expecting to have dinner together, and there's nothing more he wants than to be wrapped up in your embrace right now, sipping some hot cocoa under a warm blanket. But with the way things are going, he doubts he'll be able to make it in time. It's unpleasant enough to be working on Christmas Eve, but staying late is just on another level of evil, especially when he has someone special, all wrapped up in holiday cheer waiting on him.

He picks up the office phone and dials your home number. James knows he's not exactly allowed to use the corporate line for personal calls, but he doesn't care in the slightest. This is important. He can feel the inside of his palm sweating, waiting for you to pick up anxiously as he fumbles with the ballpoint over some stupid spreadsheet. A few painfully slow rings of the dial are followed by the distinctive rustle of the handset and your well-known, sleep-drowsy voice. James feels sick to his stomach from all the coffee he's guzzled. How is he going to deliver this?

— Uh, hello? — you complain softly, your voice still raspy from sleep. James can hear the faint sound of some holiday program in the background, the audience's laughter and music tugging on his heart strings. You are all alone in your small flat.

— Hey, it's me, — James coos, feeling partly guily for waking you up, the ballpen running in circles on the white sheet, — Merry Christmas.

Several of his few coworkers are gazing up at him curiously from their cubicles as he nervously looks around. Calling you casually in public is still something he's not used to.

— James? — Your voice brightens up a little as you clear your throat and he hears you rise up from the couch, — Where are you? Are you coming home soon?

Home. James feels a pang of guilt surge through him.

— I'm still in the office, — he admits begrudgingly, feeling the wave of anxiousness rise up as he hears your little "oh" through the dial, — I'm sorry, hun.

Over the phone, he hears you whine deeply, his own disappointment weighing hard on his chest.

— I know, I know. I'm so sorry, — he drops the pen, annoyed with himself as he fidgets in his seat, — There's just so much to be done with these blasted invoices, you know how it gets before the holidays.

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and James can almost imagine the expression on your face turning from sour to bittersweet compassionate.

— It's okay, don't worry about it, — you utter finally, your voice softening, — I understand. But I still think they work you too hard, James.

James feels a surge of gratitude for your understanding, even as he knows he doesn't deserve it.

— Thank you, — he says, his voice quiet but thick with adoration, his lips turning up slightly, — I'm just... Sorry I can't be with you right now.

You two keep chatting for a few more minutes, making small talk about your plans for the holidays, the presents you got each other, and his favorite food you've made. Although James attempts to make his part of the conversation lighthearted and upbeat so as not to upset you too much, he is a jumble of self-loathing on the inside. Some partner he is. He should have insisted on a day off or taken an unpaid leave, but he left you on your own on a day like this.

— I miss you, — he whispers finally, a slight blush creeping up his ears as he tries to stare at his computer screen to avoid unwanted eye contact, — I'll see you soon, okay? I'll be there, I promise.

— I also miss you, — your voice is filled with longing as you respond softly, — I'll wait for you and keep the food warm, so drive carefully.

After hanging up, James feels the burden of his guilt pressing down on him. The idea of disappointing you again makes him nauseous, even if you claim you're not angry with him. He knows he's already let you down. He has to make it home before midnight at least, even if continuous typing will make his fingers blister.

With a weary gaze, James surveys the office, taking in the abandoned cubicles and the shadowed windows outside, the only sound being the buzz of his computer. The scarce remains of his coworkers gradually leave the office, waving him warm goodbyes and happy holidays as they head home to be with their families. Leaving him alone and jealous of them in the dead quiet of the building, just the way you are now. He sighs, turning his attention back to his computer screen.

As he types away, his mind wanders to thoughts of you, curled up on the couch at home with your cozy blanket keeping you warm. As you sleep, James imagines your face, calm and soft, your chest rising and falling with each delicate breath. He sees himself sitting next to you, holding you close and engulfing you in his arms. The way your eyes would brighten when you saw him get home in time to wake you up with a tender, passionate kiss. The way they would sparkle with laughter, the lovely pink pearl earrings he got you catching the light, outlining your shoulders' slope and your neck's exquisite curve…

God, how much he longs to see you. James closes his eyes and sighs in anticipation. He has to focus on finishing the paperwork now and stop daydreaming about you, or none of this is going to happen with the way things are going.

He puts in another hour of effort, but his progress is frustratingly slow. The dates don't match, the figures won't add up, the last person working on the file is making him angry and swearing under his breath, and he's anxious about finishing on time — everything seems to be trying to slow him down.

By the time he's finished, it's nearly midnight, and the office feels even more empty and desolate than before. James gathers his things, hurriedly swiping them into his briefcase, and grabs his coat, dismissing his hat and gloves to save the little time he has left. Legs heavy with fatigue, he rushes out of the office and to his car, never minding the strain in his feet. There's so little time left he doubts he will make it, but he still pushes. You must've given up on waiting for him, feeling disappointed and abandoned, finally falling asleep, and the thought clutches at his heart, making him walk to the parking lot faster.

The cold night air hits him like a slap in the face, prickly snowflakes getting caught in his eyes, but he barely notices, his mind focused solely on marching through the snow slopes as quickly as possible. James hurries across the parking lot, his feet pounding against the white pavement with each step, the snow crunching under his feet, reminding him of the forgotten holiday. The strain in his legs is starting to take its toll, but he pushes through it, determined to make it to you on time.

He fumbles with his keys as he gets closer to his car, the lock severely frozen and his fingertips numb from the cold. After a while, he unlocks the door and enters, slamming it behind him in despair.

— Come on baby, don't let me down now, — he breathes out pleadingly to his old but still beloved light blue Pontiac as he turns the keys, the roar of the engine making him instantly elated.

James starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot, the tires screeching against the icy pavement. The roads are empty, but he still drives with a sense of urgency, his heart racing in his chest. As he drives, his mind drifts to thoughts of you, curled up on the couch at home, waiting for him. His knuckles whiten as he tightens his grasp on the driving wheel as a wave of shame sweeps over him. He ignores his icy limbs, even though the leather seat and the wheel are frozen cold with the car staying out on the street all day.

With the Christmas lights glittering in the distance, he rushes through the deserted streets. The sight would be lovely to him normally, but tonight it simply reminds him of what he's missing out on. Despite James' best efforts and the radio music blasting, the negative thoughts continue to bombard him. He feels terrible, like a monster that leaves his family alone on Christmas Eve. His mind tracks back to the last year when he met you, and his heart soars with warmth and adoration. His mind's eye brings out your smaller frame before him, giving the most beautiful smile to the weird, not really there, stubbled stranger at the bar. Was it back then when he started catching these feelings for you?

He sees your flat's window ahead as he turns onto his street, the living room's muted lights still on. The sweet feeling of knowing you're there somewhere puts an excited smile on his face. James pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine, his heart pounding in his ears as he pats on your present in his breast pocket, snug and secure. For a short while, he sits in the car and looks out the window at the lights you strung on the Christmas tree while trying to soothe his racing heart.

James walks up to the door, fumbling with his spare set of keys once again. At last, he gets inside by carefully turning the key in the keyhole, hardly making a sound, and meticulously shutting the door behind him.

— Sweetheart? — James calls out gently, his voice laden with unspoken worry, — I'm home.

The house is quiet, save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall. James walks down the hallway, his heart in his throat. He feels a surge of gentleness as he quietly discharges his boots and coat, tiptoeing to the living room that is only lit up by the lights of the Christmas tree that you so diligently decorated all by yourself. His socks and the edges of his slacks are effectively soaked with snow.

The man walks quietly to the living room, only the light sounds of your breathing and his soft footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room as he takes in the sight of his lover. The sight of you sleeping with the phone clenched in your hand makes James' heart skip a beat as he walks over. You've been calling the office, searching for him.

With the colorful lights creating a rainbow of hues on the walls and ceiling as well as your serene features, the space is filled with a cozy, joyous glow. He pauses to look at you, huddled on the couch, slumping over the edge with the pastel-colored phone handle clenched in your hand. James feels a wave of affection rush over him as you appear so tiny, so comfy, so much like home.

His hand reaches out to brush a stray hair off your forehead as he kneels on the plush cream carpet next to the sofa. You stir slightly at his touch, your eyelids fluttering, but you don't wake even as he slides the back of his palm gently on your cheek. Seeing you waiting for him and missing him makes him realize how fortunate he is to have you in his life and to be allowed to be in yours, even if he knows he let you down tonight.

James gently presses his mouth against your forehead in a kiss, his lips still a little dense from the cold. You radiate warmth in return.

— Merry Christmas, — he whispers, his voice barely audible in the silent room, as he gazes upon your ethereal form.

James sits back on his heels, his eyes still fixed on your sleeping form. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart, keeping himself from planting gentle kisses all over your face like he yearns to; your rosy cheeks, adorable tip of your nose, soft eyelids and lips. Reaching out, he removes the phone from your grasp, delicately uncurling each finger individually before placing it on the coffee table. You've been waiting for him all night, and he doesn't want to wake you up.

He stands up slowly, his joints popping from the long day of sitting at his desk. He doesn't stretch, though, to not let them crack and destroy the tranquility of the peaceful haven that you've turned your living room into. James looks around the room, taking in the decorations you put together. The tree he took care of mainly; the stockings hanging on the wall, and the wreath on the door were of your making. You did it all for you both, for your first holiday together.

Admiring the antique ornaments he chose especially for you, he approaches the tree and runs his fingertips down its branches before placing the small jewelry box underneath. He smiles as he remembers the way your face lit up when you opened the colorful store box and saw the ornaments, the way you hugged him tight and thanked him for making your first Christmas together so special. James recalls the way he laughed and teased you for how you found joy in the simplest things; those were just silly trinkets after all. But seeing joy on your smiling face was worth so much more than this ordinary gift. He would give you the world if he could, everything you'd ever ask for, though he knew you wouldn't.

It has now been five years. He finds it hard to comprehend how quickly time passes sometimes. It's been nearly five years since... The pain never truly left, not really anyway, lingering somewhere deep in his subconscious and daring to come out in the late hours of the night. Recently, however, things have been beginning to improve a little bit; his heart craving for new things that are beautiful, warm, and welcoming, drawing him into their embrace and instantly numbing his guilt and hatred for himself, even if just for a short while.

"Mary, I... I think I'm falling for someone else", he thinks to himself, and surprisingly, he does not feel distraught.

The way you accepted him and continued to gaze up at him like he was your treasure, your beacon, even after revealing what he's done. Like he was the only man in the world for you. Sometimes, it made him think of the dark side you shared with him. James was aware that he did not deserve it, but perhaps fate — or whatever it was — was offering him a second chance to try to change and start again. Perhaps he will have an opportunity to make amends soon as well.

James' hazel eyes catch a particular shiny ornament, a silver bell that hangs too far on the branch, threatening to fall off. He touches the ornament on the tree, attempting to adjust it a little, causing it to jingle slightly, melodically erupting through the silent room, disturbing its peace. He lets out a startled moan, yanking his hand back immediately, but it's already too late; the fiddled branch gives under the weight of the mischievous toy. James' hand freezes in midair as the ornament falls with a pitiful thud, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. As he turns to look at the couch frantically, he finds you fully awake, looking at him with your eyes still half-lidded, hands rubbing your face.

For a moment, your face is a mask of confusion, brows furrowed comically as you try to process the sight of him. But then, recognition dawns, and your expression shifts, a smile spreading across your face. Your bleary eyes widen with surprise, and your face immediately changes when you realize that your love is home. Still clad in his office job suit, his clumsy silhouette illuminated by tens of sparkling lights. You glance at the clock rapidly; it's minutes before midnight.

— James! — you exclaim, voice filled with joy and relief.

You jump off the couch, almost tripping on your wrinkled blanket, his rushed "careful!" following suit, arms outstretched and ready, as you leap towards him with abandon.

James extends his arms to embrace you, his heart bursting with affection. You collide with him, your heated body molding against his chilled one, your arms wrapping around his waist, your face buried in his shirt, inhaling his cologne and the faint smell of coffee.

James holds you tight, bones almost cracking, his hand running through your freshly washed hair, his lips pressing against the top of your head. He breathes in your wonderful scent, a mix of floral shampoo and the faint smell of cinnamon apple pie you've baked, as his blonde hair mingles with yours. He feels your pajama-clad body relax against his frame, arms tightening around his waist, fingers digging into his back. He knows you've been waiting for him all night, so beautiful, so perfect.

— I'm sorry for waking you, — he murmurs, apologizing yet again this night, his voice muffled against your fluffy hair, seemingly unable to stop inhaling your heavenly smell as he takes long and deep whiffs of your locks.

You pull back slightly, your delicate hands cupping his face, your eyes searching his deep hazel-green puppy gaze.

— It's okay, stop apologizing, — you grumble, your voice softly scolding him for berating himself, — I'm just glad you're here now, it's all that matters.

James leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes meeting yours, and his lashes lowering in delight at your closeness.

— I missed you, — he murmurs, his voice full of feeling, — Missed you so much today.

— Missed you too, honey. I've been waiting for you, — you mumble gently, trailing off as he daws closer to you, his breath fanning against your face.

James leans in, his lips chapped from the cold, brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. As you sigh, granting his mouth and tongue much-needed permission, he pours all of his love and passion into your hungry lips. His cold hands cup your warm face, and his thumbs caress your cheeks, allowing him to sink in their warmth. He presses his torso into you until there is no more space, pulling you up and closer by your waist, hands raking your middle. Deepening the intense kiss, your lips moving gently against one another, and the room filling with the subtle sounds of wet skin on flesh.

Just when you start feeling your insides tingling with the added sensation of his stubble rubbing against you, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours, his heart racing in his chest under your palm.

— Merry Christmas, — he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You smile, eyes shining with joy and love,

— Merry Christmas, — you whisper back, voice filled with warmth.

As you stand there, surrounded by the glow of the Christmas tree, James feels a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in a long while, he feels truly content, truly... Happy. And the thought of it doesn't scare him.

James cradles you close, his chin resting on top of your adorable head, his heart bursting with love and yearning. He can feel the warmth of your body, the softness of your hair against his chin, tickling him slightly as he blows it away gently.

He listens as you mumble into his chest, voice still sleepy and groggy from the sudden awakening.

— I love you, James. Thank you for being with me this year.

James's eyes sting, his throat tightening with your sudden heartfelt confession. He knows the past years hasn't been easy for either of you. The loss of his wife still raw in his heart, the tragedy of Silent Hill, the struggle to rebuild his life again and again, starting therapy and failing, then trying to quit his addiction. But through it all, you've been there, a constant source of love and support, his never-giving-up unwavering light in the dark, guiding him to his better self. Giving him the resolve to try, not for Mary or you, but for himself.

James tightens his arms around your waist, grabbing at your pajama top as he does, as if afraid that you'll slip away like a dream if he does. His lips press against your ear, breathing out almost brokenly,

— I love you too, — he whispers, his voice thick with sentiment, — More than you know.

— You deserve this, James, — you say gently as you cradle James' face in you arms, sensing his distress. Gazing directly into his eyes, your own gleaming like two brilliant stars under the sparkling lights, — We both do.

— We both do, — he echoes, his voice soft and filled with wonder. He leans into your touch, savoring the warmth of your hands against his skin, relishing the feeling of your palms cradling his tired face as he closes his eyes in bliss.

And you deserve it more. You deserve more than him, in fact. You've been there for him through everything, a beacon of light in the darkness. You've loved him unconditionally, even when he felt like an unlovable monster, even when he pushed you away at the beginning. James's eyes begin to water, tears spilling down his cheeks. He doesn't try to stop them, doesn't try to hide his emotion from you, knowing you of all people won't judge him. For the first time in a long while, he feels truly free.

— I love you, — he repeats, his voice breaking slightly, feeling embarrassed of his wet cheeks suddenly.

As you give him butterfly kisses all over his damp face, lips gently fluttering against his skin, his heart rises with joy and awe. James can feel the sweetness of your breath, the softness of your rose petal lips, the tenderness of touch.

— I know it. And I do, too, — you whisper back, tasting the salt on his skin.

James knows this is the best present he could have asked for. Not the presents beneath the branches, not the decorations on the tree, but this moment, this bond, this emotion he hopes will last forever.

With his hands on the small of your back and his arms still around your waist, he goes to spin you around a little, which makes you laugh slightly. Inhaling the pleasant scent of your warm skin, he buryes his face in your dainty neck.

— Thank you, — he murmurs, his lips brushing against your nape, making you shiver and hum pleasantly, — For everything. For being here, for loving me, for giving me a reason to keep going.

You tighten you arms around him, holding him close, fingers tangling in his golden rye hair.

[transhuman-priestess]

How I Scan Negatives

I've been doing film photography for 3 whole weeks so of course I am now an expert and you should toooooootally listen to me for my expert opinion on this matter.

But in seriousness, this post isn't meant to be a how-to guide, but if you can glean some useful information from it, that's really neat and I'm glad.

Part 1: The Scanner

There are a couple different ways to scan negatives. The simplest is known as camera scanning, and that just means you use some kind of backlight and take a close-up picture of a negative with a digital camera of some kind.

I've done a couple of scans like this but since it ideally relies on a macro lens, something which costs about $300 at a bare minimum, and more if you want one that's actually, yknow, good. Also, camera scanning inherently limits you to one picture at a time.

So my scanner is a flatbed Epson "Perfection" V600. I purchased this scanner because it is the least expensive flatbed scanner you can find that also does transparencies. It can scan 12 35mm negatives or two 6x9cm 120 negatives at a time. The Perfection V850 can do a full 36 exposure roll of 35mm but costs 4.33x as much.

So this thing is fine.

The first step is to cut my negatives up. This isn't as horrifying as it sounds. I have binder pages that hold 6 6-exposure strips, so a full roll of 35mm (which i will from here on out refer to with the slightly antiquated but slightly faster to type "135") takes up a single page.

Next, I mount them in the handy negative mounting frame that Epson provides, and put it in the scanner.

Now we can move on to the actual scanning.

Part 2: Scanning Software

This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most irritating part of the whole ordeal. There's lots of decent scanning software out there, but there's fewer options for really good scanning software. Most of the "automatic" stuff sucks at being automatic so I end up doing most of it manually.

The scanner comes with the inventively named "Epson Scan," which is a very competent program if you want to scan and don't care about dust and scratches on your film. That is because I have yet to figure out what combination of options actually gets it to properly remove dust and scratches. This is mandatory, because I do not have $10,000 to spend on an industrial-grade negative pressure ventilation system for my bathroom/processing lab. Dust is avoidable, but ultimately inescapable.

The ins and outs of dust and scratch removal are interesting but not interesting enough for me to do a deep dive on them. The very short version is that the scanner scans every frame twice, once with visible light and once with infrared, and overlays the information from these to get rid of dust and scratches.

So instead of using the admittedly competent pack-in software, I opted to purchase SilverFast 9 SE. I paid $49 USD for this because I could not find a cracked version of the full-featured "HDR Suite" version and, frankly, i haven't missed the additional features.

SilverFast has a wizard option (Do they still call it that?) that walks you through the various steps of scanning. I haven't used it since my first roll.

The first step is to do a "pre-scan", which just scans the whole thing at a low resolution so you can pick the frames out of the lineup.

This is my screen at this point. The first step is to draw around the individual frames. This takes about 5-10 minutes depending on how anal i'm being about framing and overscan.

Now that i've let the computer pick the frames to save time for demonstration purposes manually picked my frames its time to boost the scan resolution from a postage-stamp 300 pixels per inch to an actually-usable 3200. You'll also note that i'm scanning these as "positives" rather than negatives. The "negative" scan option adds something called "Negafix" that i cannot turn off and that tries to color-correct for the negative stock's film base color. It is monumentally bad at this unless your stock is pre-loaded in its database which, as far as I can tell, hasn't been updated since 2005. We'll deal with that later though.

Now that we have the basic setting defined we go over to the "frame" menu seen above and copy these settings to all frames. I could set them manually, but copying settings over is the one thing this software is good at doing automatically. This may have something to do with the fact that it is essentially copy-and-paste, which you may recognize as a basic feature of every computer since 1987.

Occasionally, and unpredictably, the scanning software will turn on "Unsharp Masking." The wikipedia page on this option will explain it. I will not, because my contempt for the option rivals my contempt for the Republican Party, The Catholic Church, and Portland's insistence on driving 5 below the limit on the highway. I turn it off and if I could i would find whoever invented this option and eat their dog.

Once that is turned off we get to turn on the most beautiful option that SilverFast 9 SE has to offer, iSRD. iSRD is the previously-mentioned scratch-and-dust removal.

I have found that, in this one instance, the automatic settings are completely acceptable to me. They eliminate most of the really problematic dust in high-detail areas. The hairs and dust that gets left behind is usually easy to deal with via clone stamp later.

Now that the boring stuff is out of the way we get to the tedious, yet, to me at least, fun part. Histogram adjustment!

What you're seeing here is a histogram, its a graphical representation of the brightness of an image. Our goal with this is to maximize the dynamic range of the image. All that blank space to the right of the "mountains" (and some of the "lowlands" on the left) need to be eliminated so that the file can use as much of the bandwidth they have for actual useful image file stuff. This is pretty simple. We just slide those little arrows until they bound the mountains better.

Once we do this we can check the output histogram and see how it's mapped all the image data to the full bandwidth.

This has to be done individually per-frame, since each frame is slightly different.

Now that's done we can actually scan. I use the "Batch Scan" function, which scans everything one-after-the-other. I'm not going to show the dialog windows because 1.) its boring and 2.) I don't want to reconfigure the save path the way I did for the above images. It's a privacy thing.

After we've scanned everything its time to move on to...

Part 3: Color Grading

This is the part you've never heard about before. It's the most involved, and the most important, and it's worth getting into why.

Computers are amazing at storing information, at sorting information, at rearranging and processing information, but they are fundementally incapable of the most important part of dealing with information, assigning meaning.

I'm sure a lot of folks are going to be very very angry at me for saying that, but I actually don't care, and what's more, I'm confident the computer scientists I know will agree with me.

Film is better at storing images than computers. Period, this is a physical fact. The amount of dynamic range and resolution contained in film exceeds the ability of computers to contain it completely. So scanning is always going to be about compromises. You're trying to maximize the amount of useful information you can see by eliminating as much of the un-useful information as you can. But the computer doesn't actually know what is and isn't useful, so we have to tell it.

In order to do this, we use image editing software. I know a lot of photographers who swear by Photoshop, but fuck Adobe, and I know a lot of photographers who love GIMP, but GIMP's user interface is so convoluted as to be detrimental to my purposes. So I use Paint.NET, which is Windows-only, a fact which is sure to get me hate mail from several users including one of my best friends. (Sorry, Murder*.)

Here we have an unaltered** negative. There's a bit of overscan you can see on the left side of the image, and obviously its currently in portrait orientation. Before we go any further, I'm going to fix both of these things.

I like to crop my negatives in a 3:2 ratio. This is the natural aspect ratio of 135 film, and i like that similitude. Paint.NET lets me set a fixed aspect ratio for selections, which is nice

Now that the overscan has been cropped out and the picture is rotated properly, we can invert the image to a positive, and here is where it will become apparent to you exactly why color grading is important, and why there's no such thing as an "pure scan".

Wow! That's very...blue? Well, yes, it is. Color negative film mostly has an orange base. This helps compensate for shortcomings in the dyes used, and those shortcomings are why we have to color grade. The next step I take is to open the "levels" controls, where you'll see our old friend, the histogram!

This histogram looks different, but it's the same basic concept, with the difference that this program lets me adjust red, green, and blue individually. You'll also note that the individual RGB histograms broadly look similar, just out of sync. This is because of the orange base. They won't always look that similar, and in this case it's largely because the sky was overcast that day and there's a large amount of gray in the entire image.

We're going to adjust the input histogram first. Here, our goal is to map the maximum amount of dynamic range possible to the final image. Color balance is not yet important. So we slide the little arrows up and down from the top and bottom so that as much of them fill the output histogram as possible without clipping.

What is clipping? Clipping is when the black or white levels "blow out". Some clipping is acceptable in some images. A bright, sunny day will invariably have some clipping, and if you go out of your way to avoid it the image will look weird and flat. But in a picture like this where everything is muted and gray, we want to avoid it.

Clipping, by the way, looks like this, and is why i don't let the computer automatically adjust the level balance. Some people like this look with the deep black shadows, I do not.

But, onto doing it the Proper*** way

You can see the image is looking a lot better, but it still has a notably off color cast to the image. Its kind of green. Now we can move on to adjusting the output histogram. There's two ways to deal with this. We can adjust the input red, but this will result in highlight clipping. I actually don't mind highlight clipping as much, and in this case we have several red lights in the image both on the BMW and the crossing gate, so we're going to adjust that input histogram.

Truthfully, I should have thought of this before picking this image to do a demonstration on, but at this point its too late to turn back, and like I keep saying, this isn't a "how-to" guide.

So we still have a bit of a color cast, but its (mostly) in the midtones. Now it's time to bring out our secret weapon: gray balance, also known as neutral point or gray point.

That middle slider can be adjusted for red, green, and blue independently, and that's exactly what we're going to do.

This looks, for the most part, very good. I'll probably go back and tweak the gray points in the red and green a bit more, and i often go through these steps 2-3 times, repeating with finer adjustments before finally confirming the changes.

Truthfully, I don't remember if the BMW was pure white or eggshell white, so i'm going to err on the side of "eggshell" because the rest of the image looks weirder if i adjust for that white to be "pure".

And now, Voila! A fully color-graded image.

Does it look exactly like it did IRL? No, not quite, but again, scanning is all about compromise. I'm sure someone with more experience could do a better job than me, but the point here isn't to show you how to make things perfect, it's to show how I, Ivy Michaels do this.

If you made it through this far, congratulations! I love you! I hope you found this interesting. Thanks for reading <3

*Murder is e's actual name.

** i have censored the license plate of the 25-year-old BMW in my shot out of privacy concerns. It is not my car, and i do not know the owner. The negative has not been cropped, rotated, inverted, or graded in any way. Only the license plate has been removed by select-and-stretch. *** Despite my repeated slides into "we/us" language, this is not a how-to and is not intended to be a statement of objective correctness. It is "correct" in the sense of "correct to my personal workflow"

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Know any gaming myths to debunk?

Gaming myths have been around as long as games, from the earliest Sumerian board games to the latest video game for your brand new Nintendo 64. Here are a few popular myths over the years to debunk:

The Royal Game of Ur: According to the weekly cuneiform tablet of Lord Kotaqu VI, the Royal Game of Ur held a secret block that could be accessed by moving a stone left, right, left, and right and up and down several times. This was simply untrue and Kotaqu was executed for his charlatan magic.

Chess: Several early critics of the game of Chess claimed that the game's battlefield strategy emulation inspired violence, despite many studies showing that Chess players like Gandhi were no more likely to go to war than non-Chess players such as Napoleon, except in certain Sid Meier simulations.

Texas Hold-'Em Poker: Many poker players were prone to cheating, especially in the old west. There are claims that card manufacturers such as Bicycle and Hoyle began to include serial numbers and codes, such as letter "L" on the lower left corner of a card so that nobody could claim a 9 was a 6, and so on. Though this has never been proven, many still claim that the L is real.

Pong: In the 1970s, games went electronic and many myths developed about this strange new form of play. The first game, "Pong," was much like table tennis, and some players claimed that one could, with proper timing, pick up the "ball" pixel and throw it on the "roof" of the video screen. This was proven untrue as more people learned how computers worked.

Tomb Raider: As more teenagers played video games, playground rumors such as a "Nude Code" to show the game protagonist naked became popular. Though there is no nude code in Tomb Raider, there is one in Kirby's Dream Land, in which Kirby can appear nude but for shoes by starting the game in normal mode.

Dark Souls: With the complexity of the world of Dark Souls, many rumors and myths were spawned, such as the ability to fast-travel early, a hidden map behind an old fog gate, and even the ability to enter other games by switching discs during a load screen. This last bit was only true in one case, where replacing the game disc with Postal 3 would improve the quality of the Postal game by making it crash irrecoverably.

Super Mario Bros. Wonder: The newest Mario game's "Wonder" mechanics are strange and diverse, leading to many rumors about weird tricks they can result in. While the normal game can turn Mario into a sticky blob, make inanimate pipes crawl like inchworms, or illuminate previously invisible walkways, claims of Wonder effects that make the console explode, save money on your car's extended warranty, or even let you see real people's names and how many days they have left to live have mostly proven false. One Wonder effect that did prove real was a 79 step ladder that lets Mario climb into a developer room. The room didn't have all that much in it, but also, it's everything.

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 9

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n i send in a job application, you get a new chapter. the world continues to go round. (i also got two skz albums for writing my application, and a bonus chan card for walking up to the counter with $150 worth of skz merch in my arms (she was like damn i wonder what group this girl likes the most what a mystery))

previous | masterlist | next

---

At some point in the last two months, you'd become more used to the presence of eight boys than you'd realised.

The thought only makes the quiet air of the studio all the more oppressive as you sit on the floor, legs stretched out before you as you wait for the livestream to load. You'd spent plenty of time in here alone since joining their group, but not as much as you have in the past week, with the boys gone from the moment they woke up to the late hours of the night on schedules and promotions. It was strange to be here for twelve hours or more and not hear a single voice coming through the door, to wander up to the cafeteria for lunch and not see them, or Minseo, or even the other trainees you'd worked with for so many years, your personal rhythms no longer lining up with the regimen of classes and mealtimes and monthly evaluations, which you know are drawing close without even having to check.

Even your home is lonely, the empty rooms echoing with no voice to respond to you. You haven't had your own room since you left Australia all of six years ago. You've never had your own apartment. You're not sure you know what to do with it anymore.

The livestream erupts in a burst of noise and colourful pixels, clarifying slowly into a picture of a stage. You've missed most of the opening performances, not watching the time as you practised. You've seen them all three times this week already; you'll probably see them all again next week as well. And if you said that watching the rookie groups in the earlier stages of the show didn't make you a little bit jealous, you'd be lying, especially this of all weeks.

(If you said that watching the boys perform God's Menu didn't make you a little bit jealous, you'd be lying too, but you won't allow that thought to cross your mind.)

As if summoned by the thought of them, they flash up on the screen, one at a time, and then as a group as the stage begins; senior idols, playing top billing on a weekly show watched by millions, a position you have no business being in. And yet here you are, sitting in their studio and watching their shows and thinking that it should have been you and you've been cheated again.

A shiver that has nothing to do with the music or the sweat that clings to your skin runs down your spine. Were you just being conceited about this whole debut thing; signing this contract to join a senior group, watching other debut groups like you had the right to be out there with them, occupying this private dance studio as if it is your own space, as if you'd earned the right fair and square to leave the darker, shared spaces of the fourth floor rooms, where all the other trainees ground away at their skills with only hope in their future. 

Weren't three missed debuts just three signs that you'd ignored that maybe this wasn't the life promised to you?

Your phone vibrates, a text notification from Minseo covering Felix's face. Your thumb hovers over it, the desire to ask where she is and what she's doing tugging at your breastbone. You let it slide away though; she's been at different schedules all day too, if she is even home yet, and night is drawing on quickly. You're exhausted anyway; you'd probably fall asleep in the first five minutes of a movie, or even midway through a bowl of icecream.

You need to keep practising anyway. That was the key to this debut you'd stolen off of fate; every minute of every day spent in this studio, until you made it or they dropped you. You already know how it feels to look back and see an hour or a day that could have been spent getting better, and you'd hated it; this time, even if you never debuted, no one would say that you didn't try. No one would call you lazy.

(But the wrong look was what they had said, not lazy. Just not pretty enough, just the wrong face in the wrong lineup in front of the wrong man. It was one thing to fail out of merit; it was another to fail because of the way you were born.)

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐗 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 9: WITCH!READER

din djarin x nightsister!reader | smut, 18+ | 1k words

summary: given the task to hunt down an enchantress renowned for her deviancy, din fails to understand just how hard this mission will be to complete.

cw: f!nightsister!reader. dub-con - seduction through enchantment. orgasm denial, threat of cumming untouched, fully clothed, grinding. very similar to something i've already written, but fancied revisiting it - still just as difficult the second time around!!

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 10: CHEATING ⇾

The coordinates handed to Din in the bounty puck Greef Karga had practically thrust into his palm like it carried a bad disease were cursed. The digits and numbers scrawled in blood red pixels across the screen of the Crest when he’d loaded the blasted things might as well have spelt out ❝ ur bantha fodder ❞.

In any other mission upon any other planet, the whole debacle might just have pulled a twitch of a smile behind the Beskar mask. But the crimson of the coordinate pixels are a dead ringer for the ruddy scarlet of your irises, and suddenly Din was struggling to find the humour in this lethal situation he’d miraculously and carelessly found himself in. 

Instead, Din watches a sinister smirk creep across your face, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Dire straits were never straighter than a Zabraki Night Sister on her home planet of Dathomir. 

“I cannot claim to have seen your kind here before,” your velvety voice trickles down Din’s spine. Admittedly, there's an inexplicable agitation dancing in his fingertips, suddenly unsure to the extent just how precarious this fragile stand-off was. Clenching his fists, he steels himself against your probing gaze and reminds himself of the Nightsister’s proximity to the force, and their ability to wield it. 

“I–”

“I know,” you muse, approaching Din with balanced, measured steps. “A member of the Bounty Hunter Guild. You don’t have to state your business.” 

Din’s teeth ache under the pressure with which he grinds his jaw. An impossible foe, he should have considered the risks before arriving on Dathomir. A Nightsister was the last target he could improvise his battle strategy for… 

“I do appreciate your desperation,” you hum softly, practically stalking around Din and tracing the silver surface of his Beskar armour with the tip of your index finger, “I am sure that the occupation allowed for frequent travelling. In turn, it protects the child.” 

A purge bomb could drop in utter silence and Din was almost certain he’d miss it, a rush of blood roaring in his ears as his heart rate lept. Your eyes find his own through the visor of his helmet with unsettling ease, given it obscured his face. 

The moment Din comes to realise he was truly outmatched, he finds himself unable to retreat.

“Hm,” you smile again, a glint of something cunning gleaming in your eyes as you watch him struggle, “I wouldn’t bother, Mandalorian.” 

A grumble of indignation twists violently on Din’s tongue, curdling into a gasp of pleasure. It’s barely there, almost silent, but the victory that dances in the voids of your eyes tells Din you heard it. 

“I must confess,” you murmur, watching as Din starts to feel his knees beginning to buckle at the pleasure that was bubbling beneath his skin, “I enjoy your vulnerability. I never imagined a man as imposing as yourself would be so easy to make mewl.”

If not for the phantom palm applying pressure to his cock, Din would have snapped back with some snarky comment. Instead, he feels entirely tongue tied, eyes rolling back as bliss almost split him down the middle.

“Though it leaves me little fun,” you admit solemnly, your eyes not quite matching your dispirited timbre, “I need to establish a new objective. Perhaps steaming up that visor of yours?” 

Finally buckling beneath the weight of the armour and his shuddering body, Din’s knees hit the dusty, red Dathomirian ground. He groans softly, cock straining in his pants as he watches you lean over him, studying every twitch and writhe of his arousal-riddled body. You seemed to appreciate the pathetic whine that builds in the back of his throat as he rocks his hips forwards, grinding his crotch into the seam of his trousers for some friction, anything to ease the agonising throb. 

“I usually make intruders suffer– though it’s customary to torture them with pain, I find pleasure makes a person far more malleable,” Din hears you address him with such ease, as though you hadn’t reduced him to a blubbering, trembling wreck with the mere thought of doing so. “This… Greef Karga. He’s aware of the bounty you seek, correct?”

“Ohh–” Din breathes and it’s pathetic. Almost like a wail, the sound travels across the open, rocky Dathomirian plains. You raise an eyebrow, prompting Din to speak– and it’s though the words fall from his loose tongue before he can trap them behind his lips. 

“Yes– He-fuck-he knows it’s y-you–,” the sound startles Din. His voice sounds unlike himself, breathy and gritty and desperate to cum- stars, he’s so desperate to cum!

He tries to stretch his thighs open wider, praying it will alleviate some of the building pressure, but his pelvis seems to have a mind of its own and starts to grind against the inseam of his flight-suit trousers that lays flat against his cock. The friction causes a gut-wrenching groan to rumble in his chest.

“Karga. I don’t suppose he sent you because he was too fearful to face me himself? Tell me, what was I deemed a fugitive for?” You muse, circling Din’s writhing body and prattling off a long list of potential reasons for the sextuple digit bounty hanging above your head. “There was the jedi I killed, that sith who inquired about my services– to which I didn’t realise I was aiding and abetting Emperor Palpatine, for your informati–”

“The assassin, Ventress–” Din grit out behind his teeth, cock pulsing in his trousers and threatening to empty his seed like a teenager. “He’s looking for her.”

He watches you pause, chest heaving while observing the surprise at this revelation. Three months ago, the guild had issued the ‘hit’. The bounty was for information instead of your head delivered to Greef Karga in a basket. None of them had ever been stupid enough to believe themselves strong enough to take on a Nightsister. 

“Now,” you grin, crouching to face Din eye-to-eye. There’s that gleam again, the teasing look in your ruby irises sparking arousal down his nerve endings with another strained moan. The building pressure, threatening to spill over and causing Din to vibrate with need cut out almost instantly, the teetering orgasm dying away with the sudden slump of his exhausted body. 

“Why didn’t you inquire about Ventress in the first place?” You hum gleefully, amused by the orgasm denial and relishing in having such a strong man beneath your feet, much to Din’s utter embarrassment. “It would have saved you a very steamy visor.”

pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh @km-ffluv @decaffeinateddinosauronearth @domaniquessidehoe2 @arrozyfrijoles23 @amisouki @sleepysheepsstuff @chunguk @lundenloves @marylovesdilfs @ninahhh-brahh @namelesshumanperson @limegreenbabx @doggydale @wiltedwonderland @justsayk

[datapacks]

Hey! I really adore the way you draw textures, as they usually fit with the vanilla art style flawlessly, and wanted to ask for advice. I want to make addons/mods, and maybe a full texture pack someday, but my textures always end up looking kind of flat, lack depth, and look weird when next to vanilla stuff.

Thank you so much :3 as far as advice, I'm afraid I've been doing pixel art for ~15 years now so unfortunately a lot of it is just experience... I do have some tips though! but I am in no place to do a full tutorial at the moment.

Prerequisite: Use paint dot net. It's super beginner friendly, since it's based off of Paint, and it's what has been used for Minecraft textures since the very beginning.

First off, you want to have a block-out palette! For me, it's these 5 colours here:

From here, you'll want to go darkest to lightest; use the darkest tone to outline, then fill in with the 4th tone. Eventually, you'll want to make it so that there are 2-3 outline tones, from darkest to lightest, in accordance to however you're shading. Anything overlapping with the main shape should not use the darkest two tones!

Then you'll want to hit the bright spots not with your mid-tone or your highlight, but with your second lightest tone! This way, you leave room to highlight And shade your highlights. You've effectively made 5 different palettes to use to shade different parts (1-2, 1-2-3, 2-3-4, 3-4-5, 4-5). Whenever you feel like you're ready, switch out this palette for something more in line with what you're doing- depending on what material you're going for, this can happen super early on or way late. Whenever I do something Metallic, I like to switch to a gold palette as soon as possible.

Another thing to keep in mind is minecraft's palette limitations! Generally speaking, try to keep textures to 5-9 colours, filling in between as needed. If you use more base colours, feel free to expand, but do not go over 15 if you can help it. A good rule of thumb for adding additional colours is that you should try to limit them to 3 tones.

When choosing a palette, there's no problem with going with any pre-existing item's colours! In fact, this can be super helpful even when you want to use your own colours, just as a reference.

When you do want to make your own palette, my advice is to choose a strong colour, any hue, saturation in the 60-80 range, value in the 70-90 range. To get strong shading in your palette, drop the value by ~5, increase the saturation by ~5, and shift the hue towards blue by ~5. Do this each time from your base colour. Go in the opposite direction to Increase the perceived brightness. Here, I started with the 5th tone.

Obviously, you can tweak these to your liking; your outline colours should end up a lot darker than this generally speaking, and you might want to ramp all the way up to white for your highlights. You'll also generally want your outline colour to end up with like, max 30 Value & at Full Saturation, with your highlight colour at 100 Value & ~50 saturation if you aren't going for Full White. Lets see what that might look like after changing the most extreme values & then blending accordingly.

At the end of the day, my biggest tips are 1) to look at references constantly in both minecraft's existing sprites and other people's sprites! Take what you like, improve on it where you think it could use improvements. & 2) always zoom out! Even if a texture is perfect, if you've been staring at it too long so up close, it's going to feel weird. Minecraft's most common GUI scale is 2x, so scale the image on your screen somewhere where each pixel is exactly 2x2 and you'll get a good feel for how it'll actually look in-game.

One last tip on a more advanced level: if you're using multiple different base colours, always shift to grayscale very often. Your tones should look indistinguishable in grayscale so that you know that the shapes themselves are strong enough to warrant the multiple colours. This is also very good for accessibility!

[voidoftheotherside]

Doomed yuri stimboard!💗🗡️💔

I tried to include as much symbolism as I could in this so I hope it comes through!

Based around the doomed yuri flag by @lovesse

The characters are: top left - Madoka and Homura from Madoka magica, top right - Utena and Anthy from Revolutionary Girl Utena, bottom left - Anis and Euphy from magirevo, and bottom right - Menou and Akari from the Executioner and Her Way of Life.

Sources:

~🌌🌺🎨~

~🪢🏳️‍🌈🩷~

~🎨✨🖥️~

Image descriptions below cut

Image descriptions: a grid of 9 squares each with a gif or image.

Square one is a purple gif of a galaxy, with chibi images of the anime characters Madoka and Homura overlayed onto it

Square two is an animated gif of pink spider lilies swaying in the wind

Square three is a gif of someone mixing dark purple lipgloss in a swirly pattern, with an image of the anime characters Utena and Anthy overlayed onto it

Square four is an animated gif of pink and purple threads that had been woven into fabric unravelling

Square five is an image of the doomed yuri flag, it has pink and dark purple stripes

Square six is a gif of someone sinking their spoon into a heart shaped dessert and picking some up.

Square seven is a gif of paint falling from the mixing stick back into the can, the paint is black with red and pink iridescent bits, and chibi images of anime characters Anis and Euphy overlayed onto it

Square eight is a gif of someone scooping chunky pink glitter with a spoon

Square nine is a gif of pixelated numbers and Japanese characters falling down the screen, with images of anime characters Menou and Akari overlayed onto it

[red-room-studi0]

Here's my TurboTime Dev oc

About damn time I actually introduced him, for some reason I had zero motivation to post this guy. But now i'm finally showing him off cuz one, I needed too, and two he's gonna be in another au lol.

SO. Me and my two friends @dani-be-existing @sunn-e-bunare made this au called Deadstock about three game developers that are in a Poly relationship (we call it a polycule lol). And they go through absolute hell (who would've guessed).

So Tucker Tatum is one of the two game Devs of TurboTime, The other Dev being Kensuke ←(link to Ken's character intro). He is a fucking idiot and a loser, Think of Grunkle Stan and Turbo in one person but worse. Yeah, that's Tucker.

Bro has some bad anger issues and hates kids. Which sucks for him cuz Ken and his wife have a kid and they both hate each other (Ain't no way this grown ass man has beef with a 9 year old 😭😭😭).

Tucker is the Game coder/programmer while Ken was the pixel art and visual game designer.

Tucker being the loser he is he vents in his game coding (Uh Oh, shouldn't have done that Tucker).

One day Tucker and Ken got into a heated argument and then Tucker just left the room leaving Ken alone. After left the house and grabbed a couple of beers to calm his nerves, Tucker came back to the house and into the room to apologize and share a drink or two but to his horror all he sees is the games cabinet screen shattered and covered in blood. From what it seems like... Ken was forcefully pulled into the screen from some unknown force.

Even worse, Kens wife Haru walks into the scene only seeing the bloody shattered screen and Tucker by it. Of course, she accuses Tucker of killing her husband and is incredibly upset (I mean who wouldn't). Tucker tried to explain but she had already called the cops and she just wouldn't let Tucker talk.

Tucker had been detained and taken in. The court statements came in and he was found not guilty due to no evidence that Tucker had killed Ken. But he did have to serve some time in jail for not paying his past due payments (classic Tucker).

Tucker attempted to to call Haru with the only call time he had to try and explain things to her but she never answered. So instead Tucker called his next door neighbor and asked her to bail him out. She doesn't like Tucker all that much but Tucker was being an annoying little shit pleading to be bailed out and she finally agreed. But Tucker owed her $200 back.

Tucker somehow got hired to work at a car dealership (that mostly sells trucks) and had to make that money quick (She would not leave him alone till she got paid back).

As for the Cabinet that is covered in blood with the screen shattered and is evidence to try and figure out what happed to ken... Tucker took it (he's living with his neighbor now cuz his home is a literal crime scene), cleaned the blood, fixed the screen and thought it would be a GOOD IDEA TO STILL SELL THE GAME CUZ HE'S SO FUCKING STUPID HE LITERALLY TAMPERD WITH EXTREMELY IMPORTANT EVIDENCE AND SOLD IT TO LITWAK (LITWAK HAS NO IDEA MIND U)

The police found out that the Cabinet was gone and they have no idea where Tucker is living so they wouldn't be able to find him with no clues of his whereabouts and have no idea where the cabinet is. (They stopped to care at this point cuz they're lazy and stupid)

So the case went cold after a while and Tucker just decided to live the rest of his life with his neighbor (cuz he's not risking living inside his own home again in case someone brings the case up again, and trauma. Also he had to pay rent at this point or his neighbor will kick his ass.)

There is more to the story but I'll leave that for later or if Dani or Sunny wanna talk more about it.