#when corporations and the like were trying to profit off of it without talking to him

[prismatoxic]

someone: who's kc green?

me: I CAN SHOW YOU THE WORLD...

me: [goes on a fucking 10 minute tangent about how cool kc green is]

[clockwayswrites]

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

--

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

[serpentarius]

been trying to wrap my head around the cancellation of "Our Flag Means Death" and why it hurts so fucking much. lots of folks who are much more eloquent than I have summed it up perfectly, but I still think it’s important I add my voice to the matter. 

It really, really sucks that the hurt is being compounded on us every time another queer/minority-led show gets prematurely cancelled. and for a long while, we also had to deal with the many shows that deliberately queerbaited us, which was a shitty and traumatic experience unto its own. And even though we’ve largely surpassed that early-‘00s-flavoured brand of queerbait now, mainstream queer media is still predominantly white-led. With the cancellation of OFMD, we've lost one of the very few intersectional queer shows in the mainstream. Shouldn’t we be beyond asking for crumbs at this point? Shouldn’t we get unabashedly intersectional shows helmed by and starring queer, BIPOC, and trans folks without them being axed for no rhyme or reason?

It’s exhausting at this point, honestly. OFMD has done so well in terms of viewership and engagement and fan response—almost entirely due to word of mouth and little thanks to the Max marketing team, mind you—and even still the show got cancelled? Can they make it make sense????

For me, the thing most akin to this OFMD situation was when Sense8 got cancelled. And yes, the fandom fought, and we eventually DID get a movie that wrapped things up years later! That gives me hope for OFMD, that maybe another network will pick it up, or maybe they’ll be able to make a movie someday. But what makes me sad about cases like Sense8 is knowing that the creators still had to force the narrative around the amount of time they were given. That the corporate overlords who only care about numbers and profit dictated how much time they had to wrap up their story.

And it fucking kills me that DJ only wanted one more season. One more season to complete the vision.

I'm just so mad that queer people are constantly being jerked around and used for profit and then left high and dry. And then we're given excuses like "oh there's no budget" or "oh there's not enough viewership, that's all it is". like, sure, maybe those are contributing factors, but then I look at all the useless garbage shows that have little viewership and high budgets that keep going forever and then I think "hmmmm, the math ain't mathing." It's fucking transparent; the corporations can spew all they want with their rainbow capitalism and talks about diversity, but the evidence is clear, and they can't convince me homophobia/racism/transphobia/etc. is not a factor in these decisions.

Anyways, back to OFMD. OFMD made me fall in love with fandom again. I drifted away from fandom for a while in my 20s, and while OFMD wasn't the first fandom that drew me back into the madness, it's certainly the largest. The sheer amount of creativity both within the show and outside of it has blown me away; I've read some of the best fics, seen some of the best art, and witnessed some of the most incredible creativity from people in this fandom.

And let's not forget the role of the show's creators and how they've interacted with us fans. They made us feel seen. And made us feel loved and valid, even when we were being weird and loud and horny. It's so fucking rare to see that. But they understood; understood that the show they made was for us, for any of us who've been marginalized or made to feel Othered or different or stuck in life or unsure of our identities. And they gave us so much love for it.

The story... man. The unique combination of quirky humour and bright visuals and dark, introspective moments, the gorgeous costumes and soft, lovely, unabashed queerness, and veteran actors and new actors all getting to shine, brilliant comedic actors getting to show off their dramatic chops and vice versa. For me, seeing Rhys Darby - an actor I've loved for a long time, but who I never thought I'd see in a leading role - getting to be the romantic lead in a queer role? And seeing acclaimed director/producer/screenwriter/actor Taika Waititi play opposite Rhys, as an indigenous Blackbeard? Fucking incredible. OFMD Edward Teach you will always be famous to me.

Anyways... despite my long ramblings here, I still don’t think I've been able to get to the root of WHY exactly this show has inched its way under my skin and stayed with me in the way it has. Maybe I'll spend years trying to understand it. But I DO know that it's in part to do with seeing both older queers AND a diverse range of queerness onscreen, in a way that I've never seen in media before. I DO know that OFMD has forced me to look inwardly, and allowed me to realize some important things about myself. About my own queerness, my own identity, things I'm still figuring out. I've cherished being able to see myself in Stede, in Ed, and each of the crew members. In Roach’s love for cooking, in Oluwande’s ability to mediate; in Jim’s quick temper, in the way Izzy builds walls to guard his heart. In Buttons’ quirkiness, in Wee John’s sass, in Frenchie’s ability to turn pain into humour; in The Swede’s silliness, in Lucius’ bluntness, in Pete’s soft heart beneath the skepticism. Lastly, OFMD has inspired me. To create, to write, to draw, to devour other peoples' works and worlds while I sit in sheer, overflowing joyousness at their talent.

so yeah. the news of this cancellation is upsetting and hurtful and disappointing. And it's making us cry, and it's making us grieve, and may make us hollow and numb at times because we've lost yet another thing we love so deeply before it was meant to go. It's so much more than "just a TV show". It means more to us than any passive mindless idiotic mind-numbing bullshit - because even though there's a time and a place and a purpose for that type of media, it's the thought-provoking work, the work that creators pour their entire hearts and souls into, that hit us deep in our own souls. The work that changes our lives. The work that has the ability to save lives, as I know OFMD has done for so many. 

please know I'm sending immense amounts of love and strength to those of you who are also hurting. we'll get through this, one way or another, and I'll keep up with the hope that we'll get more someday; but in the meantime, I'm holding you tight. ❤️️🫂

[tainted-liquor]

'Miss Me?⋆｡°✩

E42!Prowler Morales x ProwlerFan!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of salt Tws: Cussing, brief abandonment, n thas it W/C: 2.4k A/N: GWENPOOL CODED READER RAAAAAAAAGHHHH

Something was wrong.

really wrong.

for the past 2 years, you’ve been following in the footsteps of New York's infamous “prowler”. He served as a symbol of fear and terror in the eyes of the public, murdering dozens and destroying whatever he could get his hands on. But to those who paid any actual attention, it was clear that there was a specific pattern to his actions that never really harmed the innocent. He took down massive corporations and spilled the blood of corrupt figures who profited off of New York's state of constant chaos and poverty. You loved to watch him run just above your reach, dodging and weaving between buildings as he chased after something like prey.

So what did you do? You decided to grow your own identity when you were 15, making your robotic pink and white suit within the cold walls of your school's long abandoned attic. You began imitating the Prowler, managing to make quite a bit of noise in terms of your presence as a ‘new villain’ within Brooklyn. Your ultimate goal was to make as much noise and garner as much attention as your beloved ‘hero’ to grab his attention. So when you were fighting off a group of businessmen in the back alley of a dark building, you stopped everything when you saw the familiar suit drop down from above and join your fight.

He said nothing, fighting in absolute silence as he helped you destabilize the last of the people you were currently combating. He gave them a rather lethal-sounding kick to the head, making sure they were all out before looking up at you and turning his head to the side. You struggled to keep your composure as the white slits on his mask narrowed and he walked closer to you, circling you slowly as he examined your shiny suit. “Oh my gosh-! Hi! This is crazy I literally love you!” You exclaimed, your voice sounding like a staticky and distorted radio. He finally looked back at your face after analyzing your suit.

“Are those my claws?” He asked, grabbing your wrist and examining the refined metal claws on your hands that were definitely inspired by him. “Yes! My gear is totally inspired by you!” You cheered, eagerly rocking your arms back and forth to refrain from trying to hug him. He hummed briefly before walking away to wherever it was he was going, disappearing without a trace. You didn’t wanna be annoying, so you waved bye watching as he seemingly jumped up a building and quickly disappeared into the shadows. You thought that would be the last interaction you’d have with him as you sped home with a smile on your face, praying to whatever god was listening that you’d be able to talk to him next time.

And DAMN, were them gods listening.

You began to see him pop up slightly more on your missions, watching as he silently helped you with your tasks, gave your suit a good look, and then left again. This became a routine for about 3 months, watching him come and go like a thief in the night. You always said your brief hello, hey, or hi to always get an upward nod or a small thumbs up. But that never stopped you from fangirling when you got home or complimenting his skills or suit. You were currently brutalizing and abusing some CEO of a big corp, kicking and kneeing him in the stomach for info regarding the exploitation of his employees when you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“Hey! Here to help me again?” You asked, throwing a sharp punch to the man’s skull before dropping him on the floor. You turn around to face the Prowler immediately, tiny hearts popping up on your holographic mask that indicate your joy as he only shakes his head. “I need you on a mission with me” he mutters, attaching a small disk-looking circle to the side of your helmet. “Wait wait really! YES! LETS FUCKING GO! Okay okay, wait.” You exclaimed, turning back to face the man you left on the floor and tying him up with a spare electrical cord you found. “Okay let’s go! I’m so excited!” You exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around the taller boy's torso automatically.

Of course, Miles wasn’t really big on physical touch. But he let you hang around for about 3 seconds before prying you off with a tiny smile. “Aight that’s enough, c’mon. Your suit got boosters?” He asked as he prepared to dart forward out of a window. “Yours has boosters? Is that how jump so high?” You asked, earning a small sigh of irritation from Miles. He backed out of the window, swung you over his shoulder, and held on to your back tightly to make sure you wouldn't slip and splat on the concrete below. You let out a small yelp of fear as he darted out the window at seemingly impossible speeds, wind whistling in your ears as Miles's voice rang clearly through your helmet.

"The disk I put on your mask will let you hear me when I'm gone. Vice versa. I need you to knock out anyone in the control room n turn off the cameras while I reach the person we're looking for. I'll come get you when I'm done. DON'T leave the room" he instructed as you tried your best not to audibly swoon over his unfiltered voice. His tone was smooth and silky like honey, his accent sticking to his words like glue as he firmly told you exactly what to do when you arrived at your destination. Your stomach pooled with butterflies as you responded with a small "got it. By the way, your voice is really cute." There was a small huff and a low chuckle before Miles gently patted your back with his cold claw, muttering a small "thank you" that went straight through your eardrums and right to your rapidly increasing heartbeat.

And ever since that mission, you grew closer and closer. He cleaned up after all your crimes, picking up and destroying any clues you'd left behind, and keeping some as keepsakes. He'd never tell you that though, finding himself fidgeting with your purple heart-shaped sunglasses he found cleaning up another one of your messy missions. Nine months later and there you were sitting on top of a skyscraper, knees swinging back and forth childishly as you admired the lights that looked like fireflies from up so high. "Hola, Mamita. You shouldn't sit on the ledge like that. Don't know what I'd do if my favorite sidekick fell to her death" He taunted as he sat next to you, gently pulling you closer to him. "Harr-de-harr. I'm not your sidekick. You can be my crime husband though!" you exclaimed, turning your head to look at Miles as you bonked your mask with his.

He giggled at your statement, sounding genuinely joyful and flattered for a change before turning to face you again. "Yeah, aight. Fuck a crime wife, you just my wife," he stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and swinging your knee over his. You were thankful that he couldn't see your face, otherwise, he would've seen how your jaw dropped as you leaned your head against his shoulder. He took off one of the heavy-duty purple straps attached to his suit, gently clipping it onto your pretty pink tactile belt. He scooped you up without so much as a word, safely hauling the both of you down from the top of the skyscraper and placing you safely on your feet. "Aight, I gotta go Mamas. Keep that f'me, yeah?" He called as he quickly disappeared into the shadows again.

But that was the last time you saw him.

You carried on with your missions like usual, going 5 in a row without seeing your 'husband' or him saying some random shit in your ear. There was no "keep safe. Cops are on you" or him scolding you for being 'irresponsible' regarding your share of crime. You began to get worried, risking your life by going out fully suited when you had no reason to be, running and jumping around Brooklyn in search of your Prowler while his name slowly faded from the news. You even began to think that he got himself killed fucking around with the wrong target one day. You were scared, and you missed your 'man'.

For two whole years, you went to school every morning wondering when you'd see your beloved Prowler again. The anonymous boy you'd once fangirl over like some sick and twisted Justin Beiber suddenly faded from the face of the earth. You spoke in your mask now and again, attempting to get some type of response as you grieved the sudden disappearance of your first love. You continued as a nameless vigilante, earning a massive amount of fame and even 'replacing' the Prowler as his name withered from headlines. You quickly grew stronger, learning to clean up your mess, and became more violent when it came to dealing with criminals and small-time offenders.

The days melted together as you lost track of time, drowning yourself in your academic career and constant suit updates to take your mind off the pain in your heart. You practically sped down the highway with your newly installed 'Wheels' to your wide, chunky, metal boots. Your Purple strap flailed in the air as you darted off after an all-black tinted car, containing what was supposed to be your final victim with your identity as the infamous 'Pink Prowler'. You blasted forward with your boosters, digging a claw into the back of the black trunk and clawing your way up the car, breaking the glass windshield and pulling out a rather young-looking white guy. The car crashed abruptly, allowing you to leap to the side and get a look at the guy you were about to ask a couple of questions before you robbed him of his life.

There was a sudden static noise filling your helmet, groaning in irritation as you put your foot on the man's chest and fidgeted with the side of your mask. There was a loud thud, and the car burst into flames as a figure stood behind you…but you weren't really afraid as you slowly turned around to face the new stranger. And there he was, only taller and with longer braids as those familiar white eyes stared down at you. You quickly stomped down on the man's chest, hearing a sickening crunch and a blood-curdling scream as you turned to face your 'husband'. Everything rushed back to you like runoff as you took in his form, obsessing over every new muscle and scar as he slowly relaxed as soon as he saw you and your…new suit.

Despite the overwhelming joy and love you felt for the boy in front of you, rage built in your body as you attempted to throw punches at him, with Miles grabbing your metal-clad hands like it was nothing. "Where have you BEEN? I fucking missed you, I thought you died or some shit!" You shouted, attempting to wiggle your wrists out of his hold as he gave you a slight 'sympathetic' nod. He clicked his tongue at you disapprovingly, inching closer towards you as he pulled you into a tight hug. Part of you swore you could feel the regret pooling from his aura, but that was quickly disregarded when you heard him sigh deeply as he rested his chin on your head. "Lo siento, mi muñequita…I never meant to leave you," he muttered, patting the small of your back, allowing you to berate him as much as you wanted for abandoning you.

"I know, I know. Pero ahora esto aqui. Te extrañé, Mamita" He cooed as he gently rocked you back and forth, paying no attention to the man struggling to breathe in the grass. "That's definitely not something I taught you," He murmured, turning his head towards the stranger coughing and wheezing due to his broken ribs. "I saw you on the news every day, Muñequita. 'M sorry for disappearing on you, they was on my ass with a watch party for a couple of years. Wanna know why? Cuz I cleaned up one of YOUR messes" he sniggered, picking you up and resting you over his shoulder as he threw the man in a nearby river. You relaxed in his hold, quickly gasping when you realized that he had murdered your only source of intel. "I was supposed to question that motherfucker, puto!"

"You finally learn Spanish and it's to cuss me out? I thought you loved me…" He joked, giving you a firm squeeze to the small sliver of flesh visible on your suit, located right on your left thigh. You huffed, much to his amusement as he began walking back in the direction of the city. "I'm still mad that you left me like that. How do you abandon your work wife?" You asked, rolling your eyes underneath your mask as you struggled to keep up the 'annoyed' act. You knew you couldn't stay mad at him, and you had a feeling he knew it too. "For the last time, you're not my work-wife. You're just my wife" he stated.

You giggled quietly as you began kicking your feet back and forth slightly. "You don't even mean that for real" you muttered as you mindlessly played with his braids. Miles chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he adjusted his arm over your back. "Oye, detente antes de que te haga. Solo di que me extrañaste" He sniggered. "In English, please?" You whined as you attempted to grab Miles's hand.

"Missed me?" He asked as he flipped you around so you could see in front of you. "Maybe…" You whispered. Miles gave a low hum, nodding his head when he got the answer he was looking for. There were about five minutes of comfortable silence as you heard his footsteps against the coarse gravel, finally feeling at peace now that you had your husband back from wherever he was. You giggled to yourself, earning a small "Hmm?" from Miles as you thought of a potentially dumb question.

"You should propose to me"

"You want me to propose to you? Aight, I gotchu mamas. Ima get you a real pretty purple ring, okay? But you gon have to fix that suit, I can't tell I inspired it no more. Need these niggas to know you my wife and sidekick"

"boy bye."

[spectrechosts]

Untitled Mech Ex Story

Don't have a good title for this one. Toxic mech pilot yuri.

Someone was in Jasmine's hab. She unholstered her sidearm and took a cautious step inside.

They had left the door open, tauntingly, which meant that they were either very stupid, or-

"Heyyyyyy, honeybun."

God dammit.

"Get out of my fucking house, Vi."

Jasmine kept her pistol leveled at the woman lounging on her couch.

"You invited me?" She said, innocently.

"I paid to have you killed."

"Same difference? You had to know it wouldn't work."

She was pretty sure, but she liked to hope.

"Get out of my house, Vi."

"Why are you sending assassins after me? Were you thinking about me?" Vi said, a tiny smile on her lips.

"I was thinking about wanting you dead. My house. Out."

This was one of the many, many annoying things about Vi. Gun to her fucking head and she just keeps talking.

"Are you still mad?" She said, pouting. "You know, this is why we broke up."

That was the most annoying thing about her.

They were all contract killers, war profiteers offering quasi-legal services to the highest bidder, and Vi was the worst of the lot because she acted so goddamn cute about it. None of them were trustworthy, but everyone else wore it on their sleeve. Vi was insidious.

"We broke up," She said, seething, "Because you kneecapped my fucking mech in enemy territory."

Vi was sweet, a ray of sunshine in a den of snakes. She'd surprise you on your birthday even though you hadn't told her when it was, she'd kiss you in ways that could make even the blackest heart skip a beat, and then the moment she was better off without you she would stab you in the fucking back.

In Jasmine's case, they had dated for eight months before Vi had decided that she had better odds of making it home from a botched mission if the people tailing them were busy taking Jasmine in while she kept running.

"Noo," Vi said, "I dumped you because when you got back you were all pissy about it. You weren't fun anymore."

"I dumped you, and if you don't get out of my house I'm going to shoot you."

Vi leaned back smugly.

"Nobody dumps me, and if you were going to kill me you wouldn't have paid some idiot to drunkenly bumble into my bedroom and get his throat slit."

"Maybe I thought you weren't worth better."

"Maybe you want me back."

"I don't."

"You should. You loved being mine."

"Until I didn't."

"And now you know better." Vi shrugged. "I'm not saying you should work with me again."

"Why are you still in my house, Vi?"

"Why not? I may be a bad business partner, but you know as well as I do I was a perfect girlfriend. Why'd you try to have me killed?"

Jasmine sighed. "Wanted us to be even, I guess." She holstered her pistol and sat down next to Vi.

"Awww, honeybun~" Vi said, and draped her arm across Jasmine's shoulders.

"I am not your honeybun. This is not us making up." Jasmine grumbled, shrugging her off.

"It could be! So I'm not trustworthy, is that so important? I was very good at the other things!"

"You were good at getting me stuck in a corporate POW camp for two months."

"Ugh," Vi whined, "One time!" She snaked her body along Jasmine's, and purred in her ear. "How can I make it up to you, honeybun? I'll do anything."

"Anything?"

"An-y-thing."

"Get out." Jasmine hissed, "Of my fucking house."

Vi huffed and got to her feet.

"You're in a mood. We'll talk later." She said, as she finally did as she was told.

"No we won't!" Jasmine called after her.

"We will!" Vi responded, punctuated by the door sliding shut so Jasmine couldn't get the last word in.

She would have to change the locks. Maybe find a better assassin.

Maybe go after her?

No. That's the devil talking.

[mbrainspaz]

I had to work sunrise to sunset this christmas so I guess we're doing a christmas work rant. The young employee who's always tried to bully me high school style has been trying not so subtly to get rid of me, right? Well anyway, I can't tell if she's lying about the corporate boss plotting to give me the boot or just trying to scare me into leaving. If it's the latter, joke's on her because it's next to impossible getting hired anywhere else as a noticeably neurodivergent 'too old to still be single' queer woman? whatever guy with 3 dogs & a senior horse. Doesn't matter that I still don't have any tattoos.

The work 'evaluation' meeting we had recently seemed to go well with the boss even admitting that she'd short-staffed the business for the hardest part of the year and caused me to have problems. Corporate types are all snakes though. I don't even trust her as far as I could throw her, which is probably only 1 or 2 feet because a 5 gallon bucket of water is about the limit of what I can toss without messing up my back.

I was just thinking back to the clash we had over the summer. I'd been picking up the slack for months. Doing 50 hours a week of ranch work on average, and not even logging all of it. My one coworker (the 'manager') was slacking off and taking tons of vacations. I was tired all the time. I had no life outside of work. I even put my 3x more profitable illustration work on hold. And still when I asked to be paid for 2 hours too many the boss turned on me like grandpa Bilbo seeing the ring. She actually accused me of trying to "steal" from the company. Because I was requesting too much overtime in order to keep her damn business running somewhat smoothly in a 3 month 100+ degree heatwave.

After that I had a long talk with my corporate CEO uncle, who loves talking about Business. He said it was my mistake all along. That was hard to take but I can admit I messed up. I had to reevaluate my whole life from that point. Again.

When you're raised with that puritanical 50's martyr-like work ethic you're set up for failure. "Nobody wants to work anymore"? I want to work! I want to work harder than anyone will pay me to work. And like a fool I did anyway, and I got burned for it. Again.

Sometimes I really can't believe where I am now. Like true, I am insane by some metrics, but I still got a degree with honors, customers love me, I speak 2.5 languages, I have management experience, I've successfully run a whole boarding stable on my own, and my personal hobby that I do for FUN is finding the most efficient way to do the most tasks possible. Time blindness who? I don't need to see that bitch, I know exactly how long it takes me to walk across the room. And here I still am getting paid 2k a month, stuck living behind a barn, with a boss who was deeply offended when I told her the 31 cent raise (gotta appreciate that extra penny) she gave me was the second lowest I'd ever gotten. The only lower one being the automatic $.25 raise I got for working at the roach infested college sandwich shop for 2 semesters over a decade ago.

But nah, it's a always been a me problem. I should've known better than to work harder than they were willing to pay me. Am I also about to get nerfed by corporate for not volunteering to do extra unpaid work now? Uh—YEH. Of course I am! Foolish of me to imagine there was any way to win this.

I just can't get over the fact that I was giving them so much value for the pennies they were paying and it still was barely enough to qualify for basic survival. The boss doesn't even see or understand a fraction of what I did for this business. At one point she haughtily tried to remind me that I was also getting 'free rent' and board for my horse, but it's like, 'yeah, and you're getting someone present at your business 24/7 and a worker who can better connect with boarders.' Don't act like you're doing me a favor. I'm not your charity case. I'd rather have an extra 2K a month and live offsite. Except I'd need another 3k a month to afford rent within 50 miles.

I'm just so angry at every hustle culture shill and out of touch boomer who's still out there lying—saying that all it takes is a 'can do' attitude and maybe a college degree.

Apart from the year I was too ill to work I've worked multiple grueling jobs, 40+ hours a week for my whole adult life, I've lived on eggs and bologna for most of it, and if I lose this job in January I'll be homeless. Again.

Make it make sense. Make the meritocracy they hallucinate exist for me for FIVE MINUTES. Just once.

I just want someone with money to see everything I can do and say, "you're cool, I think you deserve to live. Not only that, but here's enough money that you can afford to do something crazy-banana-town like some regular maintenance on your car."

What's worse, sometimes, is that I know if I just gave in and played the stock market and did the credit card schemes and maybe did a few other crimes and exploited some other poor saps, I could probably actually make it. I hate it so much.

I am the ghost of christmas future.

[pumpkinstep]

absolutely this! It’s not just the devalue of the quality of content on the internet and the culture that surrounds it that has been manipulated by market freaks trying to milk profit out of what was otherwise a niche and tight knit landscape for micro communities.  I think everyone has noticed by now how difficult it is to find Any information on the internet these days, how pushed out real well learned groups are and how forums of all kinds have been washed off the search results due to corporate adware pushing.  Things really are worse than they used to be now than they ever have been. If you think your search results are worse and you only find products being pushed or Sponsored articles instead of off shoot websites made by some guy and their buddies, its because that really is what’s happening.  I’ve done a lot of searching around to try to find out the cause and, the most part and possibly unsurprisingly, the main sources of info and most vocal posts about this topic was found on reddit.  Social media is no longer small pockets to hang out with your friends and talk about dumb shit, (that is, i am willingly leaving out the hardcore drama and crimes that came along with the untamed net back in the day,), it’s now this monolith city full of strangers trying to make money the same way the bigwigs were when the canvas was new and fresh.  Of course there can be a lot said about how social media has fundementally altered how we treat each other and how mind-blowingly maddening it is to have every good and evil in the world beamed into your brain faster than you can process it but more or less i’ll ignore that too since it is a byproduct/symptom of the larger monopolization, or the cashing in/to profit off, of loneliness bred from corporate greed and the desire to isolate the public. source, observation of mmo gaming culture over the years, chat rooms taking form of video games,  and the noticeable increase of programs/online spaces or products or things geared towards getting lonely people to pay for a service that will take advantage of them more than really help.  I’m also aware of the age old practice of grifting and scams, lies and misinfo that have increased in practice as access to reach more people in shorter amounts of time. human’s havent really changed fundamentally in my opinion.  weh i got sidetracked but it’s kind of a complicated intertwined mess when it comes to the debasement of online culture and the push and pull of wanting to be the most special and popular/wanting to be seen and have a community, and the agenda of money makers.  Which i guess loops us back to search results.  From what i’ve seen, almost every major search engine is giving false result, or hits, numbers for searches and many of the pages will loop endlessly back on itself to give the impression of “new” results. <- this i’ve seen a lot personally. I use bing, and i’ve seen many posters talking about running into this problem when trying to search things up.  It looks like this is intentional, only feeding you information you’re guaranteed to click on and spend time on, do it’s job and say, i found exactly what you wanted, without giving you unbiased results. a lot of it has to do with search algos changing to combat misinfo and another big chunk is gaining a comfortable and solid ad rev stream through paid for links. This half is entirely tied to your search history and the kind of things you look up on every platform. Read something on a certain website? linger a bit too long on a paragraph about a certain topic? Talk to your buddies about something with your phone in your pocket or your smart home device nearby? You’ll be finding that ads will change to match the topic. It doesn’t matter if it was just a passing interest, you’ll now be sold ideas adjacent to your collective searches and results.  Personally, it makes it very difficult to find new information, to break out of what you usually search and find things like new music, art, plays, oddball research and opinion pieces on things you typically dont think about but wanted to know what other people thought cause it sounded interesting.  I suspect the over monotization of the internet as it is now will lead to a middle ground between the dark web and the normal surface level stuff, this sort of untouched exclusive bubble where things float in a gray area. From the looks of things, you can find this sort of thing in websites like reddit and 4chan, at least it looks that way. I’m not from either website so take what i say with a grain of salt, it’s just based on surface level observation. 

i think you could argue tumblr already fits a bit into the gray area, not neatly but sort of semi.  anyway, i have a lot of thoughts and feelings on the shittification of the internet.  This tedtalk is sponsored by me, some guy who grew up with early 2000′s internet culture

[vidreview]

VIDEO ESSAY ROUNDUP #2 [PART 2]

[originally posted november 14 2023. NOTE: while migrating the archive from cohost i've discovered that tumblr has a 10 link-block limit, which means i have to split some of these roundups up in order to maintain the embeds. we love websites don't we folks]

THE "DOESN'T NEED THE HELP" ZONE

my preference with these posts is to highlight creators making stuff that might not get much exposure otherwise. but it must be said that sometimes algorithmically successful video creators are creatively successful too. who'dathunkit?

"Are Film Critics a Dying Breed?" by Broey Deschanel.

an excellent dissection of the miserable state of media criticism today, starting at the surprise resignation of A.O. Scott from the New York Times. touches on the important role critics can play in resurrecting films that failed on release, and how we've arrived at a moment when so much criticism is (ironically) uncritical stenography for creatively bankrupt corporations. i think we're going to be seeing a lot of videos on this subject in the years to come, especially as more and more traditional avenues of media crit shut down and our society continues its profit-driven plunge into seeing art as merely a container for passive good feelings to be experienced in the moment and then forgotten forever. does a good job explaining why the firebrand critics of the 70s, like Pauline Kael, were so important, without letting them off the hook for their often elitist attitudes.

"Parking Laws Are Strangling America" by Climate Town.

an essential and refreshing dive into the outsized impacts that zoning laws (specifically parking requirements on new construction) have had on the very shape and soul of American public spaces. we like to talk about car culture and "freedom of the road" propaganda when grousing about the miserable state of public transit, but this here does a delicious materialism and cuts right to the heart of the matter. i love how he consistently refers to parking as "publicly subsidized storage for an individual's private property." little rhetorical interventions like these can do a lot to naturalize a more radical perspective on urbanist reforms. related to this is his video on Chicago's disastrous choice to sell its parking meters to Morgan-Stanley in 2009. i don't love the jokey Daily Show-esque affect Rollie brings to his stuff all the time, but the clarity of information more than makes up for the occasional dud joke. also: really solid camera work? huge props to his gimbal operator.

"Notation Must Die: The Battle For How We Read Music" by Tantacrul.

an exhaustive look at the history of musical notation and the many, many attempts people have made at replacing western notation with something more intuitive. if you've ever had a professor just go off about a huge pet peeve of theirs, you'll probably enjoy this one.

"YouTube is spreading a filmmaking disease" by Standard Story Company.

some context: about a month ago i finally bought a new camera and lighting equipment for the first time in ten years. this was preceded by months of researching my options, watching lengthy technical review videos, trying to find a sweet spot between cost and utility. i've watched a million videos like these over the years, and yet i'd never really thought about them as a genre with specific socioeconomic impacts on a population… until now. this is a technical review video that has become self-aware, one which simultaneously reviews tech and the act of reviewing tech in equal measure. it's a fun, interesting experiment that got me thinking in new ways about something i'd very much taken for granted. there remains an uneasy alliance between art and advertising here that i'm not quite sure what to do with, but the work itself is admirable and well worth your time.

----

and that's it for this roundup! good luck to those with get-togethers planned for thanksgiving-- make sure to get vaccinated, wear a mask in public spaces, and don't let anyone guilt you for staying home if you're worried for your or someone else's immunological safety.

<- ROUNDUP #1 | ROUNDUP #3 ->

[wintermage]

anywayyyy it's been a while since i got on here to complain about work and i'm HOPEFULLY gonna get a new job soon so time to bitch <3

i'm gonna be stating my reason for leaving as just wanting to move out of general practice and into emergency/specialty but in reality that's only like. 4% of the problem and there's like sixty other things pissing me off right now.

we lost our last actual doctor and are now relying exclusively on travelling vets, so i'm our ONLY full time provider at the moment and you know what? fucking corporate won't even let me have a dedicated assistant to help with my appointments, i have to fucking steal someone from the vet(s) who are working that day every time i have an appointment. i can't have a dedicated assistant for myself unless i meet a certain goal for average profit per appointment :))))) and it's so fucking ridiculous. i'm just expected to get my patients in and out efficiently despite having to wait for someone to be available to safely restrain them for me. no doctor would be expected to see patients without someone to assist and i don't see why i should have to just because i'm a tech. if i'm seeing patients i should have someone to assist me with those patients, period.

AND that shitty coworker who i've been forced to train still hasn't quit despite having a tantrum in which she threatened to do so. Instead, she's been BLATANTLY using surgery training as a means to dodge her other responsibilities. like she's just been shadowing me in surgery while CONSTANTLY TALKING ABOUT HOW HER MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES WILL PREVENT HER FROM ACTUALLY MONITORING SURGERY HERSELF. like jfc stop wasting my time then!! and she's frequently passive-aggressive when i ask her to do her job. i'm having flashbacks to my old wildlife rehab coworker who would go out on all the animal rescues just to get out of feeding/cleaning duties and wouldn't be of any help on the rescue. she's also been calling out sick on the reg lately which honestly is a blessing. it lowers my blood pressure lmao and for some strange reason her calling out doesn't put us behind. like at all. it's almost as if she spends the majority of her workday dicking around and trying to look busy and wasting my fucking time, hmmm.

on top of it all, corporate implemented this "levelling' system where you take an online test to "level up" in your role, making you eligible for a raise. sounds good on the surface, but it also caps your pay at a certain amount depending on your "level." and the tests need to be done on the clock...somehow...despite the fact that everyone has fucking work to do. AND the tests are needlessly confusing, not sure if it's deliberate or just from sheer incompetence. had one where two of the multiple choice answers were the EXACT SAME, and it was the right answer. so obviously only one of them would ACTUALLY get marked right and guess what? it wasn't the one i chose lmao.

and i know this is a problem pretty much Everywhere and not just at my shitty job, but it REALLY pisses me off when people with no experience get hired at a higher wage than me. that moron i'm training made like $2/hr MORE than me when i first started training her (changed when i got my license and thus got tech pay instead of assistant pay, but still, fucking seriously?).

[welcometomy20s]

April 26, 2023

Few weeks ago, Hank Green put out a poll asking people if the world is better off without humans… 41% of the audience seemed to agree, which alarmed him and me.

Technically, the answer is neither true nor false. We are the only arbiter of morality and therefore anything that cannot be experienced by humans definitionally cannot be labeled as good or evil, such a hypothetical world without humans. But to go further, when we say humans are bad to the planet, we are really saying that humans are bad to ourselves and to our conception of other things. Livestocks have no system of morality nor the ball of rock that we call earth. We see the destruction we do to ourselves in the past, present, and the future and some will conclude that this means humans are better off dead or non-existent.

But this is akin to saying that since we do terrible things to ourselves that we should kill ourselves. Most people will hear this argument and know the person is in a serious condition and they need to go get some mental help. But when we expand this argument to the world itself, apparently 41% of Hank's twitter audience merely nod in recognition.

There is a comment on videos talking about great government projects that oppose the idea because they do not trust the government to carry and maintain these projects. They imply (or outright state) that the government is not beholden to us, denying the stated democratic nature of the government, and as a corollary, we do not beholden to anyone, as in we simply do not matter in the working affairs of the government. Much like the imagery of Squid Game, we are just playthings for the rich. The violent imagery was supposed to shock us, make us coil in horror, but as violent imagery tends to do, most people’s actual response is one of submission.

Indeed this response makes us glad that the rich are pretty heartful to not make this into reality. If the rich were truly heartless then not only would Squid Game exist, it would likely be televised to the public, and in other fictions like The Hunger Games, they do show it to the public.

I guess it’s not the rich that are heartful but the poor that are still heartful. Rich still somewhat fear a revolution, even though the political apathy is still very high. Majority of Hank’s audience still rustles humanity to be awake in the morning, keep their chin up and move on.

The corporation was not what we know today, although some people (Aaron Burr) knew exactly what it can be. Corporation is a grant given by the government for a specific purpose. Basically a group of investors, called shareholders, come up and say they want to raise funds to do so-and-so, and the government agrees and post this project on a forum somewhere. Other people who are interested in the project buy shares and become part of this… company. Corporation then hires people to start and maintain the work and that’s basically it.

There is no profit motive written in the books. Fiduciary rule is about the long-term stability of the corporation, which may contradict with maximum short-term profits… in fact, it mostly does. Profit motive is a conspiracy, in the true sense of the word, between certain types of shareholders and the management, who are likely that same type of shareholder.

To go back a bit, in order for the non-trust theory to work, one needs to suppose that vested interest has no interest in the people to which they are among. In some sense, they believe in the arguments made by Ayn Rand in Atlas Shrugged or more obliquely in Robert Heinlein’s Starship Troopers, that most of us are not important to the conduct of civilization. And we must believe to be true, not just that they believe to be true, because if only the latter is true, then well… things are going to go belly-up and the vested interest would be ousted.

To be more clear with an example, even if Tories try to destroy the NHS, people would recognize that the NHS can be made better and will attack the government making the NHS worse, and therefore the interest in keeping the NHS in shape can be revived. If there is no such thing as the NHS, then all of the above would just be nonsense.

A large number of people want things to ‘just work’. But things do not ‘just work’. Work requires effort and the people to give that effort. Just because it takes effort to maintain something, doesn’t mean it would be impossible to do something, or we would be doing nothing.

Many people criticize a non-monetary economy as a ‘vibe-based economy’. They will likely point to such-and-such jobs that no one would likely take without monetary incentive. But the contention here is that… this is still a vibe-based economy. We are just shifting the vibe of jobs that do not ‘vibe’ by giving incentives. If one does not think coercion, a.k.a. slavery, is necessary for society, then you are saying that the economy can be maintained purely by shifting vibes. 

People who support non-monetary economies are then merely asking, is money the best to shift vibes, or is there a more robust and less abuse-prone way to go about this vibe shift. This can be a contention, but people who support a monetary economy are barking up a wrong and actually quite harmful tree. Another twist in Capitalist Realism, that depression that I talked about in the first half of the post. Oops, you are arguing for slavery!

The cinch is this. There has been a revolution in our understanding of motivation (the fancy term for ‘vibes’ in this context) in the last twenty years or so, which questions the efficacy of monetary incentives among other common incentives. Study in motivation is also vital in AI research, and alignment of motivation is the key component in both AI Safety and Politics.

There are whole new ways of organizing societies that might be much more effective and humane than the current system we are living under. Unless those hopes are dashed, one should not count these so-called ‘vibes-based’ economies.

[awawawawadogy]

idk maybe its cause i like. literally would have no friends at all without the internet like. i cant just hang out with people in person as much as id want to i literally cant

so when people complain about the internet taking away real connections its like. the internet is the only reason i have any connections at all. yeah its not ideal. yes extremely powerful corporations are making the internet a near hostile place to just exist and be happy, but it feels very weird when people shit on technology as a whole and not realizing that actually maybe technology is dope its just being controlled (or yk tye most prominent spaces on the internet is mainly ehat im talking about) by a bunch of demons who want to profit off of children. like the problem isnt that i can talk to people on the other side of the world, the problem is that my attention span is the size of a grain of rice and i have a deep seated idea that i need unternet validation. but those are seperate issues and just saying "technology is bad why cant we go back to being real to each other and physically being there" its like motherfucker IM TRYING HDKSJDLSHSG

idk mini rant i guess its just. it screams like old geezer yk like cmon damon albarn i thought you were cool 😭😭

music still fucks and cums and fucks again

the amount of shitting on technology in humanz makes me want to take back my praise for it cause like. dude shut the fuck up 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Position of power.

Summary: You find out that your childhood friend is now a CEO and demand an explanation.  

Word count: 3.1k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: CEO!Jongho x female!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, half clothed sex, teasing, penetration, dirty talk, office sex, fingering (female receiving) (let me know if i missed something) be careful while reading. 

Notes: this got longer than it was supposed to be and im not complaining. Istg Jongho recently has a grip on me. And tbh ive had this idea ever since I saw him in that one suit. Ill show you what i mean. Like jesus. Anyway this is pretty fluffy at first but beware. 

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

---------------------------------------

“Wait Choi Jongho?” You nodded, confused by the excitement in your friend's voice. You had shown her a picture of you in highschool but she only had eyes for the boy that was standing next to you on said picture, Jongho, your best friend since first grade that you sadly lost contact with after school. 

“THE Choi Jongho??” Your friend was squirming in her seat. You nodded again. Not really understanding what she was pointing at. “Omg Y/n that's such a big deal like how is he in person, is he as strict as he seems?” Your confusion only grew. 

“I haven’t seen him for years. He went abroad after school and we rarely ever text each other.” You explained and your friend's excitement immediately died off. “But don’t you want to know what it’s like?” What what’s like? You didn’t even need to ask the confusion was written all over your face.

“Being rich!” You tilted your head. Jongho’s family was well off but you wouldn’t go as far as calling him rich. And that’s when you saw something change in your friend's face. They realized something. While you were still trying to grasp what was happening, they shoved their phone under your nose. 

Perpexled you started to read. Choi Jongho, 23, CEO. Choi’s company, Choi Internationals, set a milestone in economic history as it became one of the most profitable corporations in its field only 4 months after it was brought to life.

You stopped and started reading again. No that can’t be.

“You didn’t know?” You looked up from their phone and shook your head slowly. How on earth did you not know about this? How could that information possibly go over your head? I need to call him you thought immediately before shaking your head again.

You went through your purse to look for your phone. When was the last time we talked? You asked yourself while unlocking your phone and entering your chat. About 4 months ago. 4 months ago you had checked up on each other the last time. That was far after the launch of his company. And he didn’t think that was important enough to tell you?

You started raging. You had told him everything. How you lost your job, how your ex broke up with you, how your parents moved to the countryside, everything. And he didn’t even bother to tell you he successfully launched a company and was making millions? Without thinking about it you sent him a passive-aggressive text.

When did you plan to tell me that you’re a money-shitting ceo?

Ok maybe you should have thought about that one.

Jongho was sitting in the back of his car when he saw your message. He let out a big sigh causing his secretary to send him a worried look. One part of him had wished you would never find out but he was also surprised that you didn’t already know. It was not like it was possible to keep his identity a secret. 

“What’s wrong Mr.Choi?” His secretary asked, still keeping his eyes on the road. Jongho sighed again. “Nothing too big. Just a change of plans for today.” He said while typing his response.

Where are you right now?

He didn’t expect an immediate answer but his phone pinged shortly after.

At Sannie’s Dream, why?

Sannie's Dream was the café you two used to go to during highschool days. Jongho couldn’t help but smile. You hadn’t changed a bit. 

Stay there.

He answered before informing his secretary about the new plan. The café was about 20 minutes away from where he was right now. He knew that you still lived in the suburb you two used to go to school in, he on the other hand had moved to the city. 

What does he mean by “Stay there”? You shook your head while putting your phone down. You had completely forgotten that you weren’t alone. 

“I’m so sorry you completely caught me off guard with that.” You told your friend while supporting your head with your hands.

“No worries but what now? What just happened?” They asked the right questions. What did just happen? “I have no idea.” You answered as you turned around to order another coffee. 

You got back to chatting but about 20 minutes later the door to the café opened and a well-dressed man entered. 

“Jongho?!” You exclaimed, completely shocked, causing the café to go quiet. He came over to your table and shushed you instantly. “We don’t want all that attention.” He whispered as the people around you began to talk again. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You whisper screamed, ignoring that your friend probably had a heart attack right now. “We need to talk, do you mind?” He asked, pointing at the door behind him. And before you even knew it he had paid for your coffee, said goodbye to your friend and had led you outside. 

"Jongho, stop!" You said while he opened the door to his car. You didn’t know a thing about cars but this one was expensive. “Can you please just explain what you’re doing?” You asked a bit out of breath. He had never been a man of many words, he was the type to prefer actions over words. But you needed him to tell you what was going on.

“I’ll explain it to you but can you get into the car first? I don’t want people to think that I’m kidnapping you.” He responded calmly. Well it kind of feels like I’m being kidnapped you thought before sitting down. Jongho closed the door and went to the other side to get in. 

After he sat down and both of you had put on the seat belt he told the driver to get them to the headquarters. The headquarters? What was he trying to do? “Mister Jung? This is Y/n. Y/n, this is my loyal secretary Mister Jung.” He introduced you and bowed at each other awkwardly. After the car started driving, Jongho started to explain. 

“Listen Y/n I never wanted to hide anything from you. I’m honestly a bit surprised that you only found out now. And I didn’t know you would be so angry.” He whispered the last part to himself. You weren’t ‘so angry’. Your disappointment from earlier had mostly disappeared.

“I’m not angry with you, just a bit disappointed that you didn’t tell me something so important. That’s a huge milestone. But don’t you think it's a bit extreme to kidnap me from my friend just to apologize?” You asked, a small smile on your face. He had always been a bit impulsive.

“Really? I mean..” he stopped, taking a second to organize his thoughts. “If I’m honest I just saw the opportunity and took it. I was so glad that you were still treating me like before and not turning into a money hungry demon, that I was too afraid to tell you. But in reality I have been wanting to meet up with you for a while now.”

You were surprised. On one side because of his sudden confession, on the other because of his rosy cheeks. He was embarrassed.

“That’s really.. sweet.” You said, still a bit taken aback. 

“I thought I could show you my workplace?” He asked incredibly unsure. What did your friend say about him earlier? Strict? Oh if they could see him right now. 

“Are you asking for a date?” You answered, obviously joking. But he nodded. And now you were the one whose face was heating up. He was looking out of the car window, trying to avoid eye contact, when scanned him with your eyes. He was handsome. He always had been, but this suit… you shook your head. Those thoughts were not to be thought. 

But he had been thinking the same. When he walked you to his car, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander. You were wearing a knee long mint green summer dress with a low back and golden jewelry. You looked stunning. But even if it was just for one second, he had wondered what you were wearing underneath it. 

After a few minutes of awkward silence you decided to break the ice. "So.. how have you been?” You asked, still a bit shy. But he immediately answered, leading to a really relaxed conversation. You talked about everything and anything. From your family, to your work, to what you had for breakfast. God you had missed him. 

When the car finally stopped, he got out first to open the door. What a gentleman. 

“And this is where our Human Resources Management sits.” He explained as you reached the end of his little company tour. Your mouth was still open. More than ten levels, more than a hundred people, all under his control. The building was really modern, held in a black and white aesthetic with an occasional drop of colour. And it was your favourite colour. But that had to be a coincidence. 

“Getting to the best part of the whole building now- my office.” He led you into this huge room. One side of it was completely covered in windows. The other consisted of dark wood. On the window side was his desk, full of paperwork, and in the middle of the room was a big table with about eight chairs. On the darker side of the room was a couch and two armchairs in the same colour. 

You walked towards his desk completely overwhelmed by the sight of the city under your feet. 

Jongho watched you explore his office in awe as he closed the door behind him. And locked it. He had always liked you more than he should but he thought he wasn’t good enough. You were his biggest inspiration to success. He’d be good enough if he was successful. A big smile appeared on his face as you let out a gasp. You had discovered his personal little library. 

When was the time to make a move if not now?

You were taking a look at his books when you heard footsteps behind you. Without any warning you felt his hands on your waist and his warm breath against your ear. 

“You’re so cute when you’re excited.” He chuckled. You froze. He was so close. Goosebumps formed all over your body as you realized what position you were in. 

“Jongho what are you doing?” You couldn’t even talk properly, the words escaping your mouth were barely a whisper. Small electric shocks shot through your body as his hands slightly brushed against your hips. If you wanted to you could’ve easily stopped him. But the high school girl inside of you was excitedly jumping up and down. 

“Something I should’ve done a lot earlier..” he whispered against your neck before placing soft kisses on your shoulder. Shivers ran down your spine. What do I do? You thought, trying to keep your mouth shut. You were way too embarrassed to let out whatever sound was waiting on your tongue. 

You had always liked him. Others had always thought you were together but you two were absolutely oblivious to each other’s feelings. And now about five years after graduation, it was finally happening. 

And even if it didn’t show, Jongho was nervous. He was basically waiting for you to turn around and slap him. But you didn’t. You stood there, enjoying his lips on your skin. And that was something he could see by your uneven breath and reaction to his hands. He couldn’t believe it at first but you wanted this. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmured, lips still caressing your shoulder. He needed your full consent before going further. Because if you didn’t say no now, he wasn’t sure if he could hold himself back. 

You held your breath. No. Please don’t stop. You knew that there was no going back once you said that. But it was the truth. You wanted him. 

“Please don’t stop.” You nearly moaned as his lips brushed a sensitive spot. You could feel his firm body behind you and gosh that suit. Every time he turned around to continue his tour earlier you had stared so much that you were worried the fabric would dissolve under your gaze. 

“I always thought you were gorgeous but this dress..” he groaned as his hands caressed your thighs, causing the dress to ride up. “This dress makes me go insane.”

You couldn’t hold back a quiet moan as you imagined him fucking you right then and there. And as if he had read your mind, he turned you around to look at him. His eyes were dark and full of desire as he scanned every single part of your face. 

“You know.. your suit isn’t much better.” You chuckled before pressing your lips onto his. You caught him off guard for a second before he intensified the kiss and slowly guided you to his desk. Before you could protest, he had wiped most of his things off his desk and sat you down on it. Your dress was merely covering your panties anymore as you felt one of his hands making its way up your thigh. 

“But Jongho..” you whispered as his fingertips brushed against the outside of your underwear. “What about the windows?” The desk was only about two meters away from the window front so if anyone was on the opposite side, they could definitely see you. 

“Oh don’t worry darling, they’re reflected.” He smirked as he pulled you in for another kiss. You were surprised by the pet name but you liked it. He made it sound so… sexy. And just as you had forgotten about the position of his fingers, he pushed your panties aside and gently started caressing your heat. You let out a loud but embarrassed moan when you heard the squelching sound his fingers were making. 

“So wet already~” He growled into your ear. “Makes me wonder how long you’ve wanted this.” He chuckled before carefully pushing one finger inside your wetness. You hid your burning face on his shoulder.

“Shut up.” You whined, making him smirk. “What did you say?” He teased you while slowly inserting a second finger. “Shut up and fuck me already.” You whined again.  

“So that’s what you want huh?” He let his fingers slip out of you and spread the wetness on your clit before starting to massage it gently. You couldn’t hold back your moans anymore as your whole body started to shake. Why was he so good at this?

“Nah nah we don’t want others to hear you, do we?” He jokingly said before kissing you again. You hadn’t even realized he had stopped massaging your clit until you heard the sound of his belt opening. You immediately opened your eyes and separated from him just to watch him open his pants. 

The growing bulge underneath had gotten painfully obvious and Jongho let out a deep breath when he finally freed his dick. Your eyes were glued onto his glistening tip as he stroked himself a few times, obviously enjoying your drooling stares. It was big but more importantly, it was girthy. 

“So what was that? You want me to ‘fuck you already’?” He asked with a teasing undertone. You nodded, still not able to stop staring. “Your wish is my command.” He groaned as he placed himself at your entrance. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, looking into your eyes with a softness that was completely unexpected. You couldn’t help but give him a warm smile. What a gentleman you thought before answering.

“Yes Jongho, I’m ready.” You let out a slight chuckle before you moved your hips forward, pushing his throbbing dick into your warmth. 

You both let out a satisfied moan as soon as his length completely disappeared inside of you. It felt incredible. Felt like it was meant to be. Jongho couldn’t even think straight when he started moving his hips. He was holding you in his arms while your hands were clawing into his back. 

“God Y/n you feel so good.” He groaned breathlessly as his cock thrusted into you once again. You were seeing stars, you had never felt so much pleasure. Your legs were wrapped around him and he desk was only there to support your body a bit, nothing more, as Jongho was nearly carrying you. 

With every thrust, the tip of his dick hit the perfect spot. You had buried your mouth in his clothes but your pathetic moans were still echoing through the room. 

“Faster.. please..” you whined against him and he immediately started picking up speed. The way your walls clenched around his length made both of you go crazy. His movements were steady which made you aware of his extreme strength and his even breath against your neck made your mind go blank. 

“Make me yours, Jongho.” You moaned. “Make me cum.”

As if he had accepted a challenge, he gently sat you back on his desk to have a free hand. While he was still thrusting into you, his hand started caressing your clit in the same rhythm and you immediately threw your head back. Waves of pleasure washed over you as you laid back. The cold wood on your back made you shiver.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jongho was panting as his thrusts became sloppier. But you couldn’t even properly hear him because you were so immersed in the feeling he was giving you. Your whole body was tense as you felt your orgasm coming. 

“Jongho I-“ you whined, not able to finish your sentence . “I’m c-co-“ 

Your orgasm washed over you with an intensity you never felt before. Your whole body was shaking uncontrollably and your pussy started clenching around his dick. You couldn’t breathe as Jongho continued to thrust into you. 

He couldn’t believe his eyes when you came on his dick. To his eyes you looked ethereal. But the way you clenched around him pushed him close. He was about to cum right there. 

He wanted to pull out but you stopped him. You could hear a slight protest before he let out the most beautiful lewd moan you ever heard and painted your inside white. You could feel his cum spurt out of his tip, filling you up to the brim. Shortly after, he collapsed on top of you. You took deep breaths while gently stroking his hair.

You giggled. “If I had known this would happen I would have texted you earlier.”

------------------------------------

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

[luvisia]

november of 2020, red barrels did a charity stream for extralife that was pretty lowkey. sadly, only a few people attended, so i’d like to document the info we got from writer jt petty for the fandom!

i'll divide what we discussed during red barrels' charity stream into sections: games and comics. some of this could be misremembered or misquoted, but i'm trying to stick by the facts that i recall.

OUTLAST & WHISTLEBLOWER:

outlast is, as a matter of fact, under the ‘dating sim’ category on steam. jt says that he wrote a lot of the characters in this mindset. he also said it probably says more about him than the characters.

miles is the kind of guy to get fussed about the difference between 'carport' and 'garage' and 'eclair' and 'boston creme'. this is about the only insight we got into his personality, because jt couldn't talk about him: miles and waylon were pretty firmly off limits.

as for waylon, his taste in music is heavy metal! he's kind of the cool dad, or at least perpetuates the cool dad myth. he would definitely play mario kart with his two boys. gamer dad!

chris walker was from a military family. after returning home from afghanistan, he struggled to make a return to normalcy, and didn't have many connections to others nor friendships. jt doesn't believe he was ever involved romantically. he said that he feels chris was in the process of trying to heal by looking for something to protect. chris is also his and vincent’s favorite character.

father martin enjoyed painting landscapes before the art therapy program was cut by helen grant, according to red barrels. when asked if he liked bob ross, they responded, ‘who doesn’t?’ when my friend said that he was the creepiest character in outlast, jt said that’s totally on her.

rick trager was born into money, and his father's estate and success made it nigh impossible for him to measure up to his legacy. he was the classic disappointment son of a billionaire and never lived up to his father’s expectations. in a bit of trivia, we learned his favorite food is croissants: spinach croissants in particular, because he hates himself. jt also mentioned that rick likely believed he would really profit from selling the body parts he amputated from the variants and miles, and figured he would make out just fine. and that, ‘he probably will.’ if he had a dog, it would probably be something sickly and overbred, like a pug.

langin is named after jt’s wife. he names characters he dislikes after people he likes, and vice versa.

jeremy blaire is probably the most reprehensible character in outlast: the one who is most capable of assuming responsibility for his actions, a face to the name of the murkoff corporation. he enjoys christmas because of the capitalist reason for the season. he would probably give pretty lousy and cheap gifts to his employees. he’s named after two people jt likes.

furthermore, murkoff isn’t the sort of company that gives permission for holiday parties during work hours: if you want to celebrate at all, you do it on your own time or your break.

frank manera would probably be a fan of phil collins’ music since his songs often have a very slow buildup before the payoff. jt interestingly compared this to cannibalism, and how it requires dedicated patience. frank had to go without before indulging in human meat.

frank would most likely get along very well with eddie if they'd met under different circumstances, such as at a party. he sees the two of them as being very unlikely friends, the two dissimilar guys you never expect to get along as well as they do.

eddie was jt’s favorite character to write for due to his ‘flirtatious’ and fun dialogue. he truly believes in his delusions, or rather that they aren’t delusions at all; he was described as being blind to everything else around him when he thinks that he’s in love. if he had a dog, it would be a corgi.

OUTLAST II:

lynn was inspired by people jt has met in the film industry, and her ambition highlights that.

knoth is pretty cultured when it comes to his taste in music, and he has a lot of knowledge of older artists. i believe jt said that he mostly enjoys the blues. if he had a dog, it would have attachment issues and be extremely eager to please, like a shepherd or cattle dog.

marta’s goal of becoming perfectly brainwashed to the doctrine of temple gate was realized. in trying to please knoth, she erased any lingering doubts or traces of guilt in what she was doing, and she no longer feels much emotion at all due to how she has absorbed the cult’s mentality. she is ultimately feared because she is the perfect example of obedience to knoth.

she/her pronouns were used for val. jt corrected himself quickly to they/them, but it still stands.

jenny roland, the pathologist mentioned in documents in both the underground lab from outlast and well-hidden field report from the lake chapter of outlast 2, may very well make an appearance in future games. she seems to be quite important, as jt couldn’t talk about her outside of one personality detail i got out of him: she doesn’t wear either slippers or socks in her home because she’s a clean freak and instead goes barefoot. she’s the sort of person to have everything neatly organized in her home, all the shoes lined up by the door, and not a speck of dust in sight. he was pretty genuinely surprised by all the interest in her character, and red barrels suggested making joke merch for her. socks and maybe fingerless gloves? i'd honestly buy some jenny socks.

THE COMICS:

jt said that the pauls (the two murkoff legal mitigation officers, paul marion and pauline glick) are going to be increasingly relevant to the story of outlast as it continues, and that he has big plans to continue where the comics left off. given this tidbit, and the epilogue of the story, could we possibly see paul as future protagonist, or maybe in pauline's case, a future major antagonist? at least there’s now solid hope for a follow up to the story of the comics, and possibly an explanation as to what led to paul and pauline’s injuries, as well as murkoff’s haste to find paul before he does further damage. his story left off with simon telling him that they have to find the walrider in order to find the answer to where his daughter alice has disappeared to, after all.

likewise, he hinted that alice marion (paul's daughter) is also going to somehow be crucially important, making mention of the circumstances of her rare blood disease and experimental gene therapy treatment by the murkoff corporation not being any sort of coincidence, and saying that he has big plans for her. could this mean that simon was telling the truth about her connection to temple gate? is she somehow connected to the morphogenic engine? could this also be why pauline says that paul was her target from the beginning? mysterious!

he talked about how the concept for paul marion was created, and how at his core, he's just a guy doing a job. his dreamcast for paul would be philip seymour hoffman.

a bit of interesting talk about the 'personality' of the walrider when questioned if miles likes dogs. since his neighbor says they like him, but they reacted violently to his returned presence at his apartment after the mount massive incident, i asked if miles likes dogs as well as they like him. jt and red barrels implied, rather than stating outright, that the walrider itself doesn't like dogs. it was also mentioned that it's very protective and overly defensive, very attached to one person, and unwilling to share. interesting attributes given to something that isn't supposed to be sentient. (edit: later confirmed by jt in one of the anniversary q&a videos to be a sort of sentient hive mind.)

simon peacock is named after the voice director the character himself was voiced by at the end of whistleblower. however, unlike the real simon peacock, the fictional simon is not from new zealand. is he faking an accent? his character will also be further explored as the story continues!

MISCELLANEOUS:

i knew that trials was a topic that couldn’t be talked about, but still suggested my theory on the story connecting back to the mkultra documents found in mount massive in the first game. jt asked if i was someone from red barrels trying to get him in trouble. i think this speaks for itself. :)

he has a giant pet lop bunny named holly! 10/10! would donate to the cause again just for her!

red barrels said that they’re still accepting merch ideas before reopening the store, and to message them if there’s anything in particular anyone would be interested in seeing. the physical copy of the comics will be restocked in the future, and they may restock other items previously seen in the store. they like to make joke merch, too, so keep that in mind!

and that’s about everything outlast related that i can recollect! is there anything you guys are excited about in particular? personally, i’m totally psyched about the hints towards resolving the comics, and the importance of the marions going forward, since they’ve been my favorite characters for quite a long time. feel free to correct anything here if i've misquoted. it's been a few weeks, and my original notes were very short and to the point.

[tricktster]

TST. We all know that you have a… unique perspective on the things that happen to you, but I’m very confused about what part of “I hurt my back while trying to impress four preteen boys heckling me at the ice rink” was supposed to be heartwarming??????????

Well I didn’t share the heartwarming part because it’s impossible for me to share it without coming off like a smug, self-aggrandizing prick, but if the shoe fits…

My best friend Kal and I went to this little dinky outdoor ice rink that had been set up in (this is a depressing phrase) the shadow of the massive, mostly vacant casino that the developers and politicians involved in its creation swore to GOD was gonna turn around the economy devastation that GE wrought on Schenectady NY when it shut down operations and laid off/fired/lost the vast majority of its workforce in the 80s and 90s.

It is probably unnecessary to say this, but the casino has failed to perform as anticipated, and Schenectady remains a monument to the crippling human cost of unchecked capitalism and the corporate profit motive. Also before GE closed up shop and left an economically devastated company town in its wake, they managed to illegally dump a ton of toxic chemicals in the river and now the fish aren’t safe to eat, so uh, fuck you Jack Welch and your 1980s greed is good bullshit.

Anyway.

So, resetting the scene: little outdoor rink, 10 bucks for 90 minutes of skating if you have your own skates, perfect Saturday diversion. We figured we’d only do like an hour, then go grab impossible burgers or something. And then, out of nowhere, four preteen hecklers manifested to lean against the boards and beg us to “SKATE FAST! DO JUMPS! SKATE ON ONE FOOT! DO A BIG STOP AND MAKE THE ICE GO EVERYWHERE!!!!!” every time we went by them… so like, every 45 seconds or so - like I said, it was a small rink. And like, as someone who spent approximately half of her childhood bumming around rinks and getting into mischief whenever I wasn’t on the ice, I was immediately inclined to entertain these kids. Plus, you know, it’s kinda fun to try to do figure skating spins and leaps on hockey skates, even if I did beef it a few times.

Anyway, we hopped off the ice for a break after about a half hour because one of us was an absolute weenie who did not play ice hockey from the ages of 4 - 21 and was not used to skating for so long so his peeeeets were tiiiiiiired and he wanted a dwiiiink and i’m being mean, I wanted a diet coke too. So I’m at the concession stand when an employee from outside comes over to the employee grabbing our drinks and she says “hey, there’s a few kids at the ticket window who really, REALLY want to skate but they don’t have any money, can I at least give them these coupons for free skate rentals?”

And then I suddenly processed that my little heckling squad consisted of, you know… four little kids in the 9-11 year old range, and that were all on their own, at a casino - an unusual place for little kids to be hanging out unsupervised, and that they’d just spent a half hour just watching people skating while they stood on the other side of the boards… and I just decided on the spot to ask the employees “Are you talking about those four boys over there? They do like, REALLY want to skate, can I pay for their tickets and rentals?”

So like the employees (who were really really kind and immediately on board with my plan) were like “that’s so nice of you, you can buy their admission, but the rentals are on us.” which sure, I’ll take that deal. And then I went over to the boys with one of the employees who told them I’d get their tickets if their parents were okay with it, and while I can attest that they all insisted that they’d checked and it would be fine with their parents suspiciously quickly… jesus christ you guys, they were jumping up and down and they kept saying things like “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE ARE YOU FOR REAL??!!!!?!!?!” and even this withered heart of mine couldn’t take it, it was so goddamn sweet.

Now, there was one thing I hadn’t thought through when I made my impulsive offer, which was “do these kids actually know how to skate.” I quickly realized when they were all holding their rental skates and then gave me a collective look of “okay, now what?” that the answer to that question was an emphatic NOPE, so I had to jog over to Kal and explain what I had done. Thankfully, I’m a good judge of best friends because he was immediately on board with our new afternoon plan of “teaching four random boys how to skate, starting with how to put skates on.”

And you guys. We got to know our new buddies very well, very quickly, because they immediately all started telling us all about themselves, and… jesus, these little dudes were in need of a no-strings-attached act of kindness, you know? They kept going off about how they couldn’t believe anyone would just do this for them, and how the mom of two of them wanted to let them do things like this but money was tight and she had to pay rent and bills and then another one volunteered that his dad and grandma both passed away in 2020 and things were rough and, like, before we were even back out on the ice Kal and I were both just like “okay, fuck our plans, let’s make sure these guys have one perfect afternoon.”

And we fucking did. We stayed out on the ice with our new buddies for hours, from mid-day until the sun went down, and in that time we got all four of them from slipping and wobbling and clinging to the boards to skating comfortably on their own; the biggest talker of the group, who did not initially appear like someone who would be a natural athlete? He was skating backwards by the end of the night. I honestly did not know that I could feel so much pride for the athletic achievements of children that I had only met a few hours ago, but i’m getting sentimental in my dotage I guess because i’m still feeling it several days later.

I mean, I really wish I could capture how happy and thankful we both were to see these kids having a blast. They all were just so great and so sweet and they kept yelling at each other whenever one of them slipped up and swore in front of us, and they bounced right back up whenever they fell and laughed about it, and once they were doing pretty good without us hovering they’d skate by us and yell “LOOK AT ME! I’M DOING IT I’M SKATING!!!!!” every single time, and when we too a break to get them snacks and hot cocoa they were so happy and they made a big point of telling us it was the best hot chocolate they’d ever had (bruh it was swiss miss dissolved in hot water but i appreciate the sentiment) and just… like, I am so fucking happy that I leaned into that fleeting generous impulse, because it was probably the best day I’ve had since, oh, March of 2020.

See? Look at all that shit I just wrote so I could humblebrag about a nice thing I did. Told you I’d come off like a smug, self-aggrandizing prick. But… There was this moment right after the employee told them they were going to get to skate when the oldest, quietest one said “Are you for real? People don’t just do stuff like this for us.” and like… I’m being entirely genuine when I say that I want to be the type of person who does stuff like that from now on, and I will remember the day we temporarily and impulsively acquired a group of four small hecklers for the rest of my life.

[writingpracticetime]

Interactions with other villains

From the notes of Mitchell Newman:

Let me set the scene.

First, the Discreet Entrepreneur’s Network, or the DEN as it is appropriately titled, is a loosely organized guild of sorts for villains to meet and exchange illegal goods and services. It’s members are vicious, super-powered criminals of all stripes--master thieves, serial killers, unethical scientists, the whole spectrum. They’re dangerous, violent, and not at all kind to non-members, or even new members.

Second, we have Constructor. A famous hero and  goody two shoes who only ended up in prison for protesting a mass eviction. More to the point, an (admittedly, not self described) pacifist who at the time was famously bad at combat.

The DEN should have torn Constructor to pieces, and this whole problem should have ended there. Instead our goody two shoes swipes dozens of members and eventually breaks the whole network into pieces.

How?

---

You have always been bad at public speaking.

You don’t stammer.  But seeing lots of eyes on you makes you freeze and all of the words you planned slip away. It doesn’t help that at least half of the people in this room are murderers, but they would have the same effect if they were third graders.

You wish Sandy was here again. She was always good at coaching you through these things. The only reason you ever made it through interviews or press talks was because of her prep work.

"The pipeline," you try again.

The Organizer quirks an eyebrow at you. For a second he looks to his assistant, a pale woman whose eyes are fixed on, and then he motions at you. "Go on."

"the pipeline they're building," you try again. "Its damaging to the environment. The people don’t want it there. And it’s. Illegal."

The crowd actually bursts into laughter.  You’re too used to talking to politicians.

---

Afterwards, Bonfire nods sympathetically at your grimace on your way out.

“There’s a reason I’m not a member,” she tells you.

“Did you hear? Did I…?”

Did I do good? It’s the sort of approval you used to seek from Sandy. You stop yourself, because you already know the answer regardless. Not a single person in that room approached you to join your next operation.

“There’s still the two of us,” Bonfire shrugs. “Best not to work with too many, anyway. That’s how snitches worm their way in.”

“Yes but…”

“Wait!”

A reedy voice calls after you. You don’t recognize the stick figure man who darts after you, eyes darting.

“Wait, okay okay okay okay,” he says, quickly. “Constructor. I’m--Cyberscout. I, your pitch, I mean--”

You wait. You hear a flare of irritation at your shoulder.

“Okay, your pitch sucked,” Cyberscout says. “Didn’t you used to go on TV? Man. N-not to down you or anything, what I mean to say is, just… I can help you with that. Not with your speaking skills, but getting the word out other ways, and doing some information gathering for you. So I’ll sign on. Pay back the favor.”

“Favor?”

“Yeah, uh. You jailbroke me,” he says. “I don’t work for nothing, normally I’d ask for a favor or cash but… since you already did me a solid… just this once.”

You hold out your hand, and like that you make your second ally.

---

Your second venture into the DEN goes better. You practice with Bonfire and Cyber ahead of time, so your voice is stronger. When you enter the latest venue, you nod at the Organizer and the silent pale woman next to him, taking a deep breath and refusing to feel intimidated.

Again, you  describe what you’re opposing as wrong. Again, you talk about the people’s wishes. Again, you call it illegal, and again there is snickering, but instead of falling silent your voice booms.

“Are you going to pretend you all don’t care?” you ask, and you hear yourself echo from the back of the hall. “How many of you have been thrown into solitary Akonite cells for store robbery, for having? How many of you got beaten by guards? Now CEOs are lining their pockets with medications they got from experimenting on prisoners just like you have been, and they go completely free. This is illegal, against the public good, all of the things they say about your own actions--and yet the men doing this go free.”

Dead silence.

“If the hypocrisy doesn’t make you furious,” you say. “That’s because you have no fight left in you.”

---

When you leave the conference, you know Bonfire heard because she’s smirking.

“Better?”

“Better,” she agrees. “Still no takers?”

“They’re probably worried about losing face,” Cyberscout says. “I mean, I was. But after a talk like that, just wait. They’ll trickle in.”

And they do. Days after, a greying old woman approaches you. She seems hesitant to meet your eyes or speak at first but when she does his tone is cold, brusque, and to the point.

“You may have heard of me, you may not have,” she says. “But to the point, I know a few things about unethical experiments, how they are run...and how to help the subj--victims. If you are willing to look past my past indiscretions, I can be an asset.”

“I care more about what you’re willing to do now than anything you’ve done in the past,” you tell her.

She holds out her hand stiffly.

“Call me Asag,” she says. “Dr. Asag.”

---

At your third DEN meeting, the Organizer’s lips thin as he sees you. He once again exchanges whispers with his assistant before glowering at you. You brush him off, and stand to explain your next venture.

“One more thing,” you say. “Before anyone here thinks of joining, this is going to be a no-kill operation.”

“What?” booms a hulking figure in the back. “Are you fucking serious?”

“No interrupting,” the Organizer drones, but you speak up.

“Wait,” you say. “Let him talk.”

The man steps forward, and you have an instant flash of recognition. It would be impossible not to recognize him, actually. You don’t think you've met anyone else that big.

“You don’t know shit about what it’s really like out there!” the giant says. “You really expect anyone to go out and not defend themselves?”

“I didn’t say you can’t defend yourselves,” you explain. “I said you can’t kill anyone.”

“You can’t get shit done if you’re not willing to kill,” the man says, darkly.

“Really. And how has that worked for you? Wait--” you make a show of trying to remember him. “Oh wait, I know. It got you in prison. Where I broke you out, without killing anyone.”

There is actually some laughter. In your favor this time. It makes you grin.

“Hobbes, right?” you ask. “It’s possible to fight and neutralize someone without killing them, and it’s usually better that way because then the feds can’t justify using as much force against you.”

“Then I’d like to see you try to neutralize a real super,” Hobbes spits.

“Alright,” you say. “Come at me then, and I’ll show you.”

“Absolutely not!” the Organizer shouts. “There will be no fights during conventions!”’

You don’t even spare him a glance. “Outside, then”

The Organizer hisses at the entire crowd follows you both, eager to see blood. “This isn’t--the rules--”

After a fight that admittedly takes a lot more out of you than your previous efforts neutralizing low ranking heroes, Hobbes grumpily becomes your next ally.

---

More and more come to you. Some asking for monetary compensation, some asking for prison breaks in the future, and some who seem to be as drawn to your ideals as you are, deep down.

With each venture, the Organizer seems less and less happy to have you appear, until one day when you are about to come to another gathering you find yourself barred.

“You’ve broken enough rules,” the Organizer says, darkly. “You aren’t welcome in the DEN anymore.”

“What rules?” you ask.

There are a few, of course. Some minor things here and there, but nothing that got anyone else banned. He tells you, and you are about to object but someone else cuts in first.

“You’ve been cutting into his profits.”

It’s the pale assistant. Her voice is weak and thready, like she can barely speak up.

“What are you talking about?” the Organizer sneers. “I never--”

“He’s been working with some of those corporations you’ve been undercutting with your, um, stuff,” she says, her voice getting higher. “B-both sides. Always got to work both sides, he thinks. Get some villains to help, sell out the others.”

Other people inside are listening, murmuring. The gathering of villains are getting agitated--clearly, this is news to all of them, as well.

“Please,” the assistant says. “I have proof. I’m a--I read minds. I can tell you everything, just get me away safely and I’ll--”

He turns on her and attacks, hands around her throat. You don’t even have to think about it. You slam concrete into the Organizer’s face, and all hell breaks loose. Someone grapples you--and then Hobbes wrings them off you. Bonfire, always drifting at the edge of the event, darts in and jerks the coughing assistant out of the fray. And with that, your last venture at the DEN becomes an all out brawl.

You decide it’s still better than public speaking.

---

---

MN: So, real talk for a moment. How did you do it? Money? Threats? Brainwashing? I know there were a few mind control types in your group.

#4598: Hm?

MN: How does a hero go to a bunch of violent crooks and end up leading them?

#4598: The only way you can. With their consent.

[diamond-coral]

Play by the Rules

Steve x Reader, Tony x Reader, Implied Steve x Reader x Tony

Summary: Working for the powerful CEO, Tony Stark, was a nightmare. Especially when you have to deal with his new, and equally as powerful, partner; the CEO of S.H.I.E.L.D. Inc., Steve Rogers. You have a plan to leave it all behind, but Tony has his own plans for you.

This is my first writing for @ darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @ harper-emory-writes Dark Bingo challenge: crossing off the squares Blackmail and CEO AU. I’m nowhere near a bingo but I’m super excited that I’ve started !!

Warnings: 18+ only! NON-CON/DUB-CON(ORAL (M RECEIVING), INTERCOURSE, MENTION OF ANAL), BLACKMAIL, VOYEURISM, sexism in the workplace, swearing.

 “We’ll review the new contract with S.H.I.E.L.D. today during the meeting. I’ll need two printed copies of it as well as a printed copy of our current one with Asgard Corp.” Tony snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

You look up from your notepad. “Of course, Mr. Stark. Just taking notes.”

Tony scoffs. “Wasn’t half the reason I hired you your ability to retain information without wasting time by writing things down?Since when did you start taking notes?”

Since I became willing to do anything to not have to look at you and remember that you were balls deep in me just last week.

“I’d just like everything to go smoothly for this meeting. I understand it’s a big deal for the company and for you, sir.”

Tony studies your face. “Well in the spirit of dedication, I’ll need you to stay a couple hours extra.”

You try to avoid scrunching up your features at that. Although you had been looking forward to curling up on your couch when you got home, you would never dare counter your employer, so you just nod.

“Rogers will be here in an hour,” he continues. “I’m expecting you to greet him, so I’ll have an intern go out and get you an outfit.” 

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark, I believe the attire I’m currently wearing is satisfactory, is it not?”

Tony eyes your black blazer and pants paired with flats. “It’s not,” he states as he gets up from his chair across from you at your desk and fixes his tie. After pausing to consider your confused look, he elaborates. “You gotta show some more skin, sweetheart. It’s the only way a woman like you will be able to make it out here.”

Your mouth falls open as he turns and leaves you to process his offensive comment.

“Bastard,” you mumble.

You could run Stark Industries in your sleep. In fact, Tony had already appointed you head of three separate divisions as well as let you bring a few of your own original projects and ideas to life in the years you had been here. You saw your own potential and Tony had been generous enough to help you expand and experiment with it. A couple more years and you could leave Stark Industries behind to start your own company with the connections you’d already made.

Which is why you remained compliant with Tony’s every demand. No matter how much it hurt your pride (especially when a drunk hookup with him practically destroyed your pride), nothing would compare to the sweet victory of running Tony’s company into the dirt when you started your own. You did your own projections. Tony wasn’t short of enemies, and with their help and your own skill set, you’d make double the profits Tony did in half the time.

So you put up with the touches, grabs, and comments from Tony. He had such a large company to run that he barely noticed that the three divisions he absentmindedly handed to you were the most successful. You’d giggle and bat your eyelashes as long as Tony didn’t notice you practically undermining his company.

Play by the rules,

But be ferocious.

_________________________

Twenty minutes later you’re interrupted from your pile of paperwork by a soft knock.

“Come in!” you call out.

A boy with short brown hair lets himself in. You’d seen him around as Tony’s shadow.  

‘What was his name again? Patrick? Pietro? Pierre?’

“Oh, Peter! How can I help you”

“Hey, Ms. L/n, Tony asked me to bring this up to you.”

Peter holds up the clear dry-cleaning bag, and it takes all your effort not to grimace at the short black pencil skirt inside. Instead, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“You can just leave it on that chair, thank you,” you say.

As Peter leaves you get up to inspect the clothing Tony so graciously provided for you, and you notice a note attached.

leave a couple buttons undone ;)  -TS

Scoffing, you throw the note in the trash as you pick up the clothes and lock your door.

You’d begrudgingly play a little eye candy knowing you’d get your revenge in a couple years.

But how much could this escalate in a couple of years? 

“Stop it,” you mutter to yourself while pulling on the black blazer.

Once you're finished changing, you receive an alert that Steve Rogers had checked into the building. 15 minutes early.

You hadn’t even met the fucker and you already hated him.

________________________________

“Mr. Rogers!” you greet the blonde in a painfully cheery voice. “You’re early!”

“Well, this is an important meeting, sweetheart,” he replies, and you cringe at the pet name, handing him a clipboard and pen.

“This is just a quick confidentiality contract, Mr. Stark would like you to sign,” you inform. “Basically just saying you agree not to share any contents of the meeting or contract to any outside parties until you and Mr Stark have solidified and confirmed all aspects of your partnership.”

“Ah so Stark is already confident he’ll get a partnership with my company?” Steve muses and scribbles his signature. He looks up, handing the clipboard and pen back to you, and you motion for him to follow you down the hall.

“So what’s your role here exactly?” Steve asks, following behind you. “Are you an intern, receptionist...maybe a call-girl?”

You don’t bother turning at his teasing remark, instead answering calmly. “I run the three most successful divisions here, Mr. Rogers.”

“Impressive,” he remarks, but it sounds more of a mock from him. “And Stark still keeps you as an assistant.”

Your brows furrow at that comment. “How do you know I’m an assistant? And why would you ask what I did here if you already knew?”

“Women like you are just so fun to rile up. Stark and I had a meeting earlier in the month, and he talked of you very fondly.”

Well that didn’t sit right with you. You coordinated all of Tony’s meetings and practically created his everyday work schedule. “Mr. Stark didn’t mention meeting you already.”

“We decided to go over all possibilities of this transaction. It wasn’t much.” Steve brushes your comment off as he enters the elevator with you.

The doors close and you feel trapped. Through the short conversation you’ve had with this man, you can already tell how calculating he is. Every word, every movement, has been intricately steered by him for his benefit. And you couldn’t even begin to explain how belittled his stature made you feel; sheer power barely contained by an expensive three piece suit. The dark blue made his blue eyes more piercing in comparison. Everything about him radiated dominance. And for a woman like you who was practically clawing her way up the corporate ladder, that was a problem.

“You coming?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He stood by the open elevator doors, arm gesturing out for you to lead. “Time is money.”

“Well then you have plenty of it, don’t rush me,” you snap.

“Feisty,” he muses, lips turning upwards.

Steve follows behind you, and you can feel his gaze burning on your ass. You’re more than grateful when you reach Tony’s door, having to refrain from frantically knocking, trying to escape the stare of the man behind you.

“Enter,” a voice calls from behind the doors.

You push open the large door and stand to the side, allowing Steve to enter the room before you.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve greets, crossing the room to give Tony a firm handshake.

“Rogers.”

The men begin to talk business and you take that as your cue to leave, turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, have a seat,” Tony calls out to you. You glance back at him and beckons you over with two fingers.

“Um, Mr. Stark, there are no other chairs,” you stammer.

“Don’t worry, doll, I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer a lady a place to sit,” Steve declares. You expect him to get up, but he just spreads his legs a little wider and gestures to his lap.

Eyes flitting to Tony in panic, your employer just nods and gives you look of warning as if saying ‘don’t mess this up’.

You let out a breath and hesitantly make your way to Steve.

‘How much could this escalate?’

The words from earlier rang in your head, but you brush them away and tentatively place yourself on one of his muscular thighs, angling yourself inward. You can’t hide how your face twists into a look of disdain as Steve’s arm snakes around, pulling you further up his leg so you’re back right up against his torso.

“Mr. Rogers I-” Your voice is nothing but a squeak before Tony interrupts you.

“As I was saying,” Tony interjected. “Your profits will grow exponentially if you add Stark Tech to your security services. Which is why I get 60%. I’m already doing you a favor by growing your profits.”

“I want 50/50. Stark Industries will gain consumers from S.H.I.E.L.D. We both get more buyers from the partnership, so I say it should be an even split.”

“Well we both know you’re not just getting the consumers, Rogers,” Tony spat. 

That has your attention fully invested in the conversation. What could Rogers possibly get from the company that Tony would be so mad about parting from? You look down at the contract on the desk in front of you and your heart stops cold.

“Mr. Stark, why is my name on this contract?” It was there. Under ‘assets acquired’, it was the last thing, as if added as a last moment bargain.

Tony just ignores you. “Steve, you’re taking the head of Stark-Touch Smartphones, my most profitable branch, you can’t just expect things to run as efficiently when she’s gone.”

“I’m taking her twice a week, I highly doubt that’ll make much of a dent in your operations,” Steve scoffs, and you tense up. “How about this. I get her for two weeks- straight- a month, and I’ll split it 45-55.”

“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Your voice quivers.

“Your boss here just agreed to sell you to me, as my...assistant,” he explains, hot breath fanning your ear. His free hand that’s not on your waist moves to grip your bare thigh up your skirt. “Two weeks a month, for every month, for as long as you work for him.”

“No!” you suddenly shout, wrenching your body from his grip to stand up. “I will take the comments, I will take the stares and the touches, but I will not be whored out like this. Mr. Stark, I quit.”

Stark just tsks and rises from his chair to stand in front of you. While shorter than Steve, it still feels like he towers over you with the demeanor he holds. “That’s just it, y/n...you see, you’re not gonna be quitting to start that new company of yours.”

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head as he mentions your future plans.

“Yeah, I know, you’re not as good at hiding as you thought. At least from Peter that is. Kid’s a whiz at the computer. Had him plant a bug on your home laptop and do a little sweep of your personal account. And I gotta hand it to you, the numbers you ran? Almost perfect. Every single projection and hypothesis you had would’ve gone through. You factored in almost everything. Almost. But you forgot one thing, sweetheart.” Tony’s hand flies up to grip your jaw and uses the momentum to throw you into the wall a few feet behind you. He’s back on you in an instant, seething, as the grip on your chin is bruising. “You forgot me, bitch. You forgot what would happen if you cross Tony fucking Stark. I’m the most powerful man in America. I can ruin your life with a snap of my fingers.”  Just as quickly as he was on you, Tony’s anger switches to calm, and in the blink of an eye, he’s off of you, casually smoothing his suit down. “Well more of a push of a button.”

Smirking, Tony reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone while you remain frozen in fear, glancing at Steve who just looks amused at the show in front of him. At the sound of Tony coughing to get your attention, you look back in front of you at the phone he’s now holding out. Black and white security footage is displayed on the screen, and the moment Tony presses play, you know what it is.

Your voice rings through the speaker, the moans, expletives, and begging coming out of your throat are clear as day as Tony fucks you over your desk.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Please, please, let me cum!”

Your eyes water. “Stop it,” you murmur, but the video keeps playing. “I said stop it! Please!”

Tony chuckles. “So now you understand what’s at stake here? One push of a button, one phone call to Peter, and this video will be up all over Time Square. Forget starting a company, you’ll be blackballed all over America from even being a receptionist.”

You’re defeated, your entire future crumbling before your eyes.

 “What do you want from me.”

“Well I think leaving me or the company is now obviously out of the picture, so for now, I want you to give Steve here a little trial of what he just bought from me.”

“Please...please no,” you croak, but Tony just holds up his phone and raises an eyebrow.

As you start to make your way toward the other man, Tony grabs your jaw once more. “Don’t half-ass it,” he grows in your ear before shoving you to Steve.

Eyes lowered, you stand in front of Steve and shrug your blazer off. “What would you like me to do...sir?”

“Suck me off.”

You’re barely able to breathe, sinking down to your nears, as tears begin to flow freely from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry doll,” Steve murmurs under his breath.

There is no dignity left in you as you unbuckle his belt and open his fly. The soft zip is deafening to your ears, and you reach in and pull out his hardening cock.

Shit. He wasn’t even fully hard and he was big. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t send a pang down to your core.

Giving him a few shy strokes, you then place your mouth over him, hollowing your cheeks as you lightly suckle at the tip. You pull back and take a deep breath. 

‘Don’t half-ass it’

You dive back in with renewed vigor, taking as much of him as you can and running your tongue across the underside of him. He’s hot and heavy in your mouth, and you find yourself pretending you were somewhere else with someone else, enjoying it. You let out a moan at his taste and Steve responds with his own groan, hand caressing your hair as you slightly speed up. His hand winds itself into your hair, and he begins thrusting his hips up into your mouth, extracting a whimper from you. Each buck of his hips turns harsher as his hand pushes down on your head to force his entire length down your throat, and at this point, you’re drooling onto his expensive slacks. He’s about to cum and you feel it; his thrusts becoming erratic and his entire body tensing, but before you can speed up and get this nightmare over with, he wrenches you off his dick and pulls you into a heated kiss, hands coming up to grope you all over.

You let out a startled squeal as both hands grasp your blouse and rip it down the middle, buttons flying everywhere, before he proceeds to do the same to the black lacy bra you're wearing.

“Ride me,” he commands.

All shame has left you at this point as you proceed to straddle him, your skirt now bunched up at your waist, and sink down on his length. The mewl that comes out of you is from how his girth is stretching you, and after what seems like eternity, you’re bottomed out and unable to move.

“Move,” he orders.

“I can’t,” you whine. “It-it’s too much.”

“Move.”

You let out another whimper as you slowly raise yourself a couple inches and sink back down, feeling every single vein on his cock brush against your walls. A few more attempts later, Steve grows impatient. A low growl is torn from his lips while he grabs your hips tight and slams you back down on his impossibly hard length.

You can barely hear the string of strangled screams and moans as he brutally thrusts into you, moving your body up and down and using you for his own pleasure. Every punishing plunge into your cunt punches the air from your lungs, and Steve’s groans are animalistic.

You glance over to the side to see Tony fisting his own dick, and the only thing that tears you away from staring at him is a particularly hard thrust from the man in the chair below you.

“Fuck, doll, your gripping me so tight,” Steve grunts.

The sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your now wet pussy is so overwhelming you don’t even register another set of hands on your waist.

“Bend her over more, Rogers. I wanna fuck her ass.”