#data center exit

[astutebusiness]

Accelerate your digital transformation with Astute Business Solutions’s data center exit to Oracle Cloud Infrastructure. Cut IT costs, simplify operations and scale effortlessly with expert-led OCI migration strategies. From compliance to performance gains, we help you get it right the first time.

[marikosfragrance]

BLUE LOCK X READER

"Can he pass the "Orange peel" test?"

Characters : Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Sae, Karasu Tabito, Bachira Meguru

Content : A scenario in which you ask them for an orange and ask them to peel it for you— seeing how willing they are to do acts of services.

Disclaimer : Some of you readers may be sensitive, so prepare yourself for things you might not expect like harshness in some characters

SET : I set the scenario where you and the (character) have dated for 2 years, but kaiser is not healed. Sae might come off as cold, rin might seem detached or some other traits that you might deem as a red flag. So read at your own accord, taking this warning into consideration. I won't add a description of what type of personality reader is for everyone to feel welcome.

Note : I am glad ya'll enjoyed the previous scenarios, now let us explore more. Take it into consideration that when you guys send me requests or asks, you can freely set the setting to however you'd like, if you'd like it if it is set into a time where kaiser is healed, or sae and rin have opened up, which might take ages if done slowly. Or when isagi haven't met you so he isn't in love with you, and so on and so forth with other characters. Now enjoy.

Isagi Yoichi - he would

I am sure it doesn't come off as much of a surprise if someone like Isagi would do this act of affection. For him, it might even be natural— his way of showcasing how much he cares for you. If this was set at a time where you just started dating, he would feel flustered and might even mess up a bit, but for Isagi, this act would be a symbolism of how he is willing to do anything to minimize your workload as well as please you.

Yoy two are spending some time on the couch, intitially planning to watch tv, and not let any interruptions occur. However, you had a different plan in mind. Isagi was invested in the movie and glances at you from time to time to check your reactions. Until you asked for an orange, which draws his eyes to you— away from the tv now. You repeated your request as it sinks into his mind. He chuckles lightly— an apology exiting his mouth, from how he didnt hear you the first time.

You asked for an orange and he wouldn't even question it, just thinking you might be tired as he makes his way to the kitchen. After grabbing an orange, he walks towards you then stretches his hand out to give it to you, you didn't reach out for it and instead asked him to peel it. Isagi might feel confused at first but would happily do it, seeing this as a sign of affection rather than a workload.

(Isagi's part is short, because he does it no hesitation and no complaints)

Itoshi Sae - he would begrudgingly do it

The fact that you were able to handle him for 2 years, much less get into a relationship means he can see you in his future, or you managed to really convince him that you won't get in the way of his plans and goals. Which is amazing in its own way— since it might've took you years to get him convinced. So you might already be aware that he won't give in to such pointless acts of affection. But you tried it anyway, since he isn't really always present, so why not make the most of it?

You two were just sitting on his couch. Yes— his couch. You never brought up the idea of living together since Sae seems to really like his space. And even if he secretly wanted to, you can't see him telling you about it or bringing up the idea. You are watching TV, eyes darting to whatever he is working on— eyes meeting some soccer data stuff on his laptop which is rested on his lap. You waited for a while, and there he goes. Sae places his laptop on the center table as his body relaxes, leaning more on the back of the couch— looking at whatever you were watching.

You called out his name, followed by your requests— an orange. You can see him squinting his eyes a little at your odd request, since normally you would get it yourself, but with a sigh, he stands up and heads to the kitchen. He grabs an orange and goes back to you sitting on the couch, looking at him with anticipating eyes— the upcoming second request reluctantly but successfully leaving your mouth. "Can you peel it for me?" You ask.

"Why can't you peel it yourself?" Sae questions you. Despite him intentionally trying to not sound mean, he genuinely wants to know why— his question coming from a place of pure confusion rather than a harsh reply. You might just sigh to yourself, feeling upset and grab the orange to peel it yourself till he raises his hand— keeping you from taking the orange away. And with a big sigh, he decides to sit down and peel it. But the situation is confusing for him; why couldn't you peel it yourself? He questions himself. In the end, he peels it but instead of it coming from a place of care, his decision to peel it comes from a place of "obligation". He felt the need to peel it, since he sees it as something he "needs" to do rather than "want" to do.

(It would be a surprise that he would peel his orange for you. If he never was your boyfriend, he wouldn't see the need to do it, nor the care)

Karasu Tabito - he would

For Karasu, doing something as peeling an orange might be a natural thing for him, he sees it both as something he needs and also wants to do. How he would do stuff for his partner is a sign of genuine care and affection, rather than pure obligation.

The room was quite dark. The curtains closed— the only source of light is emitted from the tv. Both you and Karasu are having a movie night, and the atmosphere was peaceful and quiet. You didn't want bother him with this, but you wanted to try it out on him; though you have a rough idea of how he might respond.

You asked for an orange, and he looks at you with his eyebrows raised, and no question— he stands up and goes to the kitchen to grab one for you. You looked at him with a smile, perhaps already knowing this is how he'd respond. And he sits back on the couch, handing it to you. He notices your silence, and has an idea on what would come next. And thus, he pulled back his outstretched hand, already peeling the orange before you could open your mouth and ask which surprised you. After he peeled it, he gave it to you as if it was the most normal thing to do, and at that moment you are reminded of why you chose to be with him— eating the orange with a small smile.

(I feel like if you really mattered to him so much, he would literally read your mind. He is smart after all, he can read body languages)

Bachira Meguru - he would be more than happy to

For Bachira, this act of peeling an orange for someone is a natural act of love. He would see it as a natural thing to do and he'd do it, no complaints. If he hands you the orange, he might even ask you if you want him to peel it, wanting to please you with acts of services.

You could be spending some time together in the living room, watching a movie. Bachira would feel more excited about spending time with you rather than the Movie. Might even let you pick the movie, and if you want him to watch something in particular, he would watch and comment on each scenes, would gladly let you talk too and explain to him about stuff regarding the movie. He would switch from looking at the movie, then to you, then the movie then to you, having fun with the feeling of watching something with another person, which is quite different to what he is usually used to.

Now if you asked him for an orange, he would no doubt say "okay!" And immediately do your request. He wouldn't see it as something to complain about, but rather it is something that he wants to do for you since to him, you are special. It wouldn't take long for the orange to arrive, and he gives it to you, and to your surprise, he would even ask to peel it for you.

It makes you smile how you don't need to voice out your needs since he already does the things you want him to do without needing you to voice it out.

( I see Bachira as one of those types that will feel the need to make themselves feel needed by their partner in some way, especially if he views his partner as someone he doesn't deserve, or a person that cures him of his loneliness)

__________________________________

Hope everyone enjoys this scenario! Had fun making it, but had a hard time a little bit from portraying their characters while still staying true to their personalities.

[valeisaslut]

Undercover desire Pt.2 - mdni (+18)

clic to read pt.1!

⚢ pairing: Secret agent!Ellie Williams x Secret agent!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: You and Ellie were here to complete the job—not to get tangled up in each other. But after barely managing to escape, the tension ignites into something far more dangerous. The real threat isn’t the mission anymore… it’s what happens if you give in. Either way, it’s going to explode. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 5.7k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: enemies tu lovers, smut!!, dom!Ellie, sub/switch!reader, scissoring, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), cum eating, hair pulling, pet names, VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LMAO, lots of cursing, blood, bombs, use of firearms, violence, helicopter?? . MINORS AND MEN DNI!!! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ Heyyyy! Sorry to keep ya'll waiting but pt.2 is here and is here for GOOD, i got a little excited with the plot and felt i was in a movie, so sorry if it a little very unrealistic. English isn't my first language, so if there's some misspelling or writing mistakes I will be happy to receive constructive criticism <3 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The narrow hallway led to a larger room, dimly lit by a soft emergency light. The walls were lined with metal panels, covered in pinned-up documents, while monitors flickered with data in Russian. In the center, a table overflowed with files.

Your heart pounded.

This is it.

This was the information you had been chasing. The secret experiment that justified every bullet dodged, every high-speed chase, and every dangerously close call with Ellie. This was the mission’s objective.

You rushed forward, grabbing one of the files just as she did the same on the other side of the table. The words Проект кордицепс (Project Cordyceps) were printed on the first page.

"This is even bigger than we thought" you murmured, flipping through the documents.

“Since when do you speak Russian?” Ellie asked, watching you read through the files with ease.

“Looks like someone didn't finish reading my file and skipped the mandatory Russian course.”

“Sorry, know-it-all. I just kept reading until the part where it said your specialty was firearms.” She said, but now looking up at you with a serious expression. “...So, what is it about?”

“Bioweapon experiments with something called Cordyceps. Looks like they’re testing this kind of fungus on human subjects, and it causes them brain infection." you said grimly. "This isn’t just research… it’s fucking extermination."

A noise in the hallway made you freeze. They were footsteps, and they were coming towards you quickly. You locked eyes with Ellie, and just as you turned to the exit, the door bursted open. In seconds, she grabbed the documents and stuffed them inside her jacket.

Before you could react, a guard stormed in, gun raised. A shot rang out.

But it wasn’t aimed at either of you.

The bullet struck a security pipe above your heads, releasing an unknown gas into the room.

Your lungs burned instantly. With blurry, stinging eyes, you barely managed to see that the only exit was blocked. No time. No options. The gas overwhelmed you in seconds, dragging you under. The last thing you heard was the dull thud of your own body collapsing on the floor.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your consciousness returned in waves, like a distant echo filtering through the pain and confusion. Your head throbbed with a dull, pounding buzz, and when you tried to move, a harsh tug at your wrists made you groan. Tied.

The material was thick, rough against your skin. Rope or some kind of industrial binding—tight enough to cut off your circulation if you struggled too hard. Your wrists were secured firmly to a pipe along the wall.

You opened your eyes, quickly scanning the room. A single flickering light in the corner barely illuminated the space. The concrete walls were bare except for a single metal door. No furniture, no windows, nothing that hinted an easy escape.

Great. You ended up in a damn makeshift cell.

The cold from the floor seeped through your clothes, but then you noticed a warm pressure against your back. A musky forest-like scent seeped into your nose, surrounding you.

Ellie.

As if this couldn’t get any worse.

Your breathing was shallow as you tried to ignore the way your legs were tangled with hers, the way your heartbeat—fast, intense—drummed against your chest.

"Look who finally decided to wake up." Ellie's voice was a rough whisper, hoarse from dryness.

Even tied up in a cell, with her wrists bound, she still manages to sound smug.

You clicked your tongue, the metallic taste of blood lingering on your lips.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." you muttered.

You tried moving your arms, but the rope only tightened against your skin. Worse, it pulled you even closer to Ellie.

"Stop moving." she grumbled, barely hiding her exasperation.

"Stop breathing in my ear" you shot back, feeling heat creeping up your neck.

"Kinda hard when you’re practically on top of me." There was an unmistakable hint of amusement in her voice, which only made your irritation spike.

"This is so stupid." you sighed.

After a few minutes of silence in which you continued trying to think of every single way to escape, you heard her teasing voice again.

"You know," Ellie mused, her soft laugh vibrating against your chest. "When I imagined you being tied up with me, I didn't exactly imagine it like this."

A smirk curled on her lips. "But hey, I’ll take what I can get."

"Can you stop being annoying for just one damn second?" you hissed in a low, threatening whisper, tugging hard against the rope.

Yours and Ellie's wrists were bound separately, and that didn’t make things any easier. You tried pulling once again, but all it did was tangle your legs with hers even more.

"Yep, that’s not getting you anywhere." she said, obvious amusement in her tone.

You shot her a glare.

"Got any better ideas, genius?"

She leaned in just enough for her lips to graze the edge of your jaw. A shiver ran down your spine.

"You sure you wanna hear 'em?" she murmured, her warm breath ghosting over your skin.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you, racing under her touch. You knew exactly what she was doing—getting a kick out of watching you lose control. Like always.

The door creaked open, halting whatever the hell was going on between you two. Heavy boots echoed against the concrete, followed by a second pair—lighter, but just as menacing.

The first man to step inside was tall, dressed in a black jacket buttoned up to his neck, a thin scar cutting across his left cheek. His sharp, dark eyes swept over you both with the cold precision of a predator sizing up its prey.

The other man, shorter but with the rigid stance of a trained soldier, lingered near the door, a gun resting against his thigh.

The taller stopped barely a foot away, his presence dominating the room with an eerie kind of calm—more unsettling than any threat or outburst could ever be.

"Two foreign spies in my base? Now that’s unexpected." he muttered, his deep voice laced with sarcasm and a thick Russian accent.

Your jaw tightened. You tried shifting forward, but the rope bit into your wrists.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

The man let out a dry, humorless chuckle, like he’d just heard the worst joke of his life.

"I'm curious..." he said, crouching slightly and resting his hands on his knees as he studied you both with the slow amusement of someone who enjoyed crushing things under his boot.

"What is so interesting about our project that you both walked straight into your own deaths?"

Your mind raced, searching for an escape, a distraction—anything that could give you an advantage. Before you could come up with a response, Ellie spoke in that deadly, indifferent tone of hers.

"If we told you, you’d have to kill us."

The leader’s dark eyes settled on Ellie, a slow, twisted smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah… such a mouthy little bitch. Don’t get your hopes up—I’m going to kill you both anyway."

The air in the cell grew even heavier, thick with the weight of his threat. The flickering light above casted long, trembling shadows on the concrete walls, twisting his silhouette into something monstrous-like.

Ellie sighed, tilting her head like she was about to yawn.

"What a pity. I was hoping you’d at least offer us something more interesting."

"There is no deal. You rats stepped into the wrong place. And now, you pay the price." His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Tell me—who sent you? Who else knows you're here?"

You rolled your eyes.

"You really think we’re gonna tell you?"

The man sighed, straightening up as he gave a small nod to one of the guards. The soldier obeyed, pulling a knife from his belt and stepping forward.

"I wanted to do this the easy way... but you didn't give me much of a choice."

Ellie glanced at you from the corner of her eye, something dangerous sparking behind her gaze. Then, she smirked. A small, deliberate gesture. She gave you a subtle nod, waiting for your signal.

Without hesitation, you nodded back.

Screw the "trust no one" rule.

In a blur, Ellie lurched forward. The movement almost looked choreographed—she caught the knife between her boots before the guard even had a chance to react, locking the blade between her feet with lethal precision.

"What the—?!"

The scream barely left his lips before Ellie twisted sharply, driving the knife deep into the man's flesh. A howl of pain filled the cell as he stumbled back, clutching his wounded leg, blood spilling onto the concrete.

She used the chaos to her advantage, yanking the rope she was tied up with brutal force. It snapped, finally freeing her. With animal precision, she slammed her forehead against the leader’s face in a vicious headbutt. A sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by a muffled grunt.

In less than two minutes, she had taken them both down.

And you thought she couldn't get more attractive.

"You still got the files?" you panted. There was no way you were leaving empty-handed.

Ellie sliced the last of the rope on her wrists, then slipped a hand into the inner pocket of her jacket with infuriating calm. She pulled out just the corner of the gray file, smirking at your expression.

"Those idiots were dumb enough not to check me properly." Her voice was mocking, but her eyes gleamed with sharp satisfaction.

After a few seconds under her piercing gaze, your expression shifted to a clear Well? What are you waiting for?. It was obvious—you expected her next move to be untying you.

"You know…" she murmured suddenly, mischief curling at the edge of her lips, "You look pretty good all tied up. Maybe I should just leave you like this."

You rolled your eyes.

"No time for jokes, Williams. Cut them. Now."

Ellie tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a half-smile.

"I love it when you get all bossy."

With a quick flick of the knife, she sliced through the ropes in one smooth motion and helped you get back to your feet.

The wounded guard had just enough strength left to throw a clumsy punch in your direction, but you were already waiting for it. You dodged easily, shifting to the side before driving your elbow straight into his jaw. Out cold in one strike. Without hesitation, you grabbed the gun from his belt and leveled it at him.

"Damn, princess." Ellie muttered, genuinely impressed.

The wounded leader managed to get back to his feet, blood dripping from his nose, but his expression remained eerily composed. Then, without a word, he reached out and slammed his palm against a button on the wall before you could stop him.

The deafening blare of an alarm tore through the air like a blade. In the distance, the echo of hurried footsteps pounded through the hallways.

Reinforcements. You cursed under your breath.

“Fuck! we need to get out of here!”

“Yeah, and fast.” Ellie replied, starting to run with you.

The lights flickered violently, casting erratic flashes against the concrete walls as you sprinted at full speed. Behind you, the shouts of injured guards mixed with the thunder of boots closing in. The blaring alarms drowned out everything else, turning your escape into an unbearable countdown.

“Ellie, the door!” you shouted, pointing at the hatch at the end of the hallway.

She didn’t hesitate, bolting towards the exit. You pushed yourself to follow, but not before raising the gun and firing straight at the control panel on the wall. Sparks erupted in a bright burst before everything plunged into complete obscurity.

The darkness was your salvation.

Chaos turned into confusion. Amidst the yelling and stomping of boots, you both ran blindly, guided only by instinct. The emergency doors bursted open with a loud clang, and a rush of freezing air slammed against your faces.

And then, you saw it. The heliport, glowing under the blinking tower lights. And more soldiers waiting for you.

Ellie skidded to a stop, panting.

“Tell me you’ve got a plan.”

You grinned.

“It really shows you didn’t finish reading my file.”

Reaching into your jacket, you pulled out a small metal cylinder. One last explosive. Without a second thought, you hurled it straight at a fuel tank.

A sharp whistle. A flicker of fire.

And then—the explosion.

Flames roared in a blinding flash, consuming the platform in a wild dance of destruction. The shockwave rocked the ground beneath you, and the screams of soldiers were drowned out by the deafening blast.

But there was no time to worry about the damage. You grabbed Ellie by the wrist and shoved her towards the helicopter waiting at the edge, it's engine roaring defiantly against the chaos.

“Get in!”

Ellie moved quickly to the control panel, starting to pilot with remarkable expertise. The helicopter lurched into the air, wobbling like a wounded animal before steadying. Below, the enemy base shrank into a mess of lights and tiny silhouettes, their shouts drowned out by the deafening whirl of the rotors.

The helicopter managed to elevate high enough to start the getaway, speeding as fast as posible away from the base. Taking a deep breath, you slumped back against the seat, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

But the victory only lasted a few minutes.

A gunshot slammed into the side of the chopper, metal groaning under the impact. The entire structure shuddered violently.

“Shit!” Ellie cursed, gripping the controls as the helicopter rocked dangerously. "They hit us!"

Another shot. A deafening bang.

An after that, the sickening feeling of freefall.

The alarms shrieked in a piercing wail as the tail rotor burst into a storm of sparks and fire. The horizon tilted, the world spinning into a blur of flashing lights and black smoke. The helicopter spiraled out of control, a flaming projectile plummeting toward nothingness.

Gravity yanked at you both like an impatient executioner.

Ellie snapped her head towards you, her mind quickly flashing the only possible way of surviving.

“There's parachutes!” she barked, yanking hers from under the seat and tossing you another one without hesitation.

Flames clawed through the cabin, devouring every last breath of oxygen.

“Move!” you growled, fighting against the wind as you made you way to the open door.

With trembling hands, you strapped on the parachute, the searing heat creeping up your back. Ellie was already at the edge, short hair whipping wildly, her lips curling into that adrenaline-fueled smirk as she briefly winked at you.

“See you down there.”

And she jumped.

There was no more time to think.

You sucked in a breath and jumped after her, just as the helicopter erupted into an inferno of fire and twisted metal.

The shockwave hit you like a punch, sending you spinning wildly through the void. The roar of the explosion faded behind you, replaced by the deafening buzzing of the wind tearing your ears. The night stretched below—an endless, dark smear of unknown terrain.

A few hundred meters from the ground, you yanked the parachute cord. A violent jolt ripping through your body as the canopy snapped open, slowing your descent in an abrupt, stomach-turning tug. The air rushed past you, the world tilting as you spiraled downward.

Somewhere in the shadows under you, Ellie was falling too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hit the snow with a heavy thud, the impact rattling through your entire body. A shiver ran down your spine as the freezing air bit through your soaked clothes. You sucked in a sharp breath, trying to calm the adrenaline still surging through your veins.

You were alive.

A few meters away, you saw Ellie under the faint glow of the moon. She unfastened her parachute with precise movements, her boots sinking into the snow as she pushed herself up. With an annoyed grunt, she brushed the snow off her pants.

"I’m never getting in a chopper with you again." she muttered, not even bothering to look at you.

"Oh thank you, I’m glad you’re alive too." You rolled your eyes, fingers numb as you struggled with your harness. "Where the hell are we?"

Ellie glanced up, scanning the landscape with a serious expression. Despite the darkness, the silhouette of distant mountains loomed against the cloudy sky, surrounded by an endless stretch of snow covered pines. No signs of civilization. No lights. No roads.

"Screwed." she declared, hands shoved into her pockets like she had seen worse.

You sighed, rubbing your arms in a useless attempt to warm up.

"We have to find shelter before we freeze out here."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After what felt like hours trudging through the snow, you both stumbled upon an abandoned cabin on the edge of the forest. The place was barely standing—shattered windows, a sagging roof—but the walls were intact, and there was enough scattered wood inside to build a decent fire.

The flames casted a flickering orange glow, sending shadows dancing across the worn out wooden walls. As the fire grew, the warmth slowly eased the tension in your muscles.

"We don’t have enough supplies, but we should stay here for the night." Ellie murmured, her voice low beneath the crackling fire. "In the morning, we’ll look for signal and call the agency for rescue."

"Sounds like a plan." you said, letting silence settle between you.

Then, her voice cut through it.

"C'mere."

You eyed her warily.

"Why?"

"You're freezing." She shrugged, her expression unreadable, patting the floor beside her like she didn’t care whether you accepted or not.

You hesitated. But in the end, you moved closer.

The heat of her body was immediate, wrapping around you. As soon as you sat beside her, Ellie draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in until there was barely any space left between you.

"Don’t get any ideas" you muttered, but the frantic beat of your heart betrayed you.

Ellie let out a low, lazy chuckle.

"Too late"

The air between you shifted. It wasn’t just the cold, or the exhaustion, or the comforting warmth of the fire. It was something else. Something dense, something dangerous.

Ellie turned her head just slightly, close enough to study you up close, her green eyes tracing your features in silence. When her gaze lingered on your lips, the air suddenly felt heavier.

Your breaths mingled in the sliver of space between you. The fire crackled, casting golden light across her freckled skin.

How can someone look this damn good after nearly dying fifty times?

"You're still shaking."

Ellie’s voice was a low whisper, rough around the edges, laced with something that felt like a challenge.

"It’s the cold."

Not even you believed that.

She smirked, that infuriating curve of her lips that somehow made you want to strangle her and kiss her at the same time.

"Liar." she murmured, her gaze not wavering in the slightest.

Then, without warning, her fingers brushed against your cheek, agonizingly slow. At first, her touch was cold, but as her fingertips traced the line of your jaw, her skin grew warm against yours. Every movement was deliberate, as if she was committing every inch of your face to memory.

"I can think 'bout other ways to warm me up tho." you murmured, voice laced with defiance.

Ellie’s eyes darkened, her brow lifting ever so slightly before she moved.

"Oh yeah?" her low voice vibrated against your skin.

Before you could react, she had you pinned against the wooden floor, effortlessly trapping you beneath her. Her fingers ghosted over the fabric of your shirt, tracing a slow, deliberate path to your waist.

Your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of her jacket, trailing along her back. Without realizing it, you’d drawn her even closer. Too close.

Your internal thoughts started shouting you to stop this. That it was highly prohibited.

You are an agent. She's an agent. You are obliged to be strictly coworkers through the entire mission. Nothing more.

"This is against the rules, Ellie..." you whispered against her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath mix with yours. "The agency doesn’t allow—"

"Fuck the agency."

Not even a second after saying that, she closed the mere inches of distance between you.

The world shrank to the feeling of her mouth on yours. There was no rush in her kiss—just a slow-burning intensity, a calculated game where every movement seemed to study you, test you. A declaration of war and surrender all at once.

You stopped caring at all. The inner thoughts suddenly ceased and faded away like they never existed.

Your hands slid down her back as you melted into the kiss, feeling her tense muscles beneath the fabric of her clothes. You sighed into her mouth, fingers gripping her jacket and taking it off without hesitation, pulling her down until she got fully on top of you.

Tilting your head slightly, you caught her lower lip between your teeth, biting down with teasing softness.

Ellie let out a low, dark laugh—almost predatory.

"You’re a damn problem, you know that?" she murmured against your neck, her voice deeper than usual, laced with that mix of amusement and danger that drove you insane.

"And you're an even bigger one." you shot back, a smirk tugging at your lips before kissing her again. You both knew you were crossing a line that had been threatening to break for far too long.

It had already been broken.

Now, all that was left was to enjoy it for as long as you could.

Her lips left yours only to travel along your jaw, trailing downwards with a softness that made you hold your breath—like she was claiming every inch of you without even taking your clothes off.

Your hands moved desperately along her back, taking off her shirt until it hit the floor with a dull thud. You couldn't help the soft gasp that left your lips when you saw her naked chest– freckled, pale, and absolutely breathtaking.

Ellie’s hand shamelessly slipped under your shirt, her cold fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, moving agonizingly slow before gripping your waist with enough force to make you arch into her. Her other hand found your thigh, gripping it firmly as she shifted to wrap your legs around her hips.

"You’re way more fun when you’re not fighting back." She muttered against your skin.

"Shut up."

"Make me." she challenged with a fiery look before biting down and sucking the curve of your neck.

Before you could respond, she lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You couldn’t have cared less where it landed. A slow, deep sigh escaped her lips as her gaze roamed over your bare torso, lingering on the thin barrier of your red bra.

Her hand slid went slowly down your back, already working to take off your bra as well. She lifted her gaze, silently asking for permission. The moment she caught your slight nod she unclasped it in one swift, fluid motion. The garment slid down your shoulders, and you moved your arms to let it fall completely.

"You’re fucking perfect." She bit her lip in anticipation before lowering her mouth back to you.

Her lips latched onto your breasts immediately, her tongue circling one of your hardened nipples slowly. With your hand tangled in her hair, you pulled at it roughly, making her groan against your skin.

While her mouth stayed busy, her hands slipped inside your pants, forcing your legs to part even wider for her. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a gasp when her fingers brushed against your clit through your panties.

As her lips moved back up to meet your pulse point, a broken moan escaped your lips as she sucked harshly on the sensitive skin in a way that made you shiver.

"No marks…" you murmured shakily, feeling Ellie huff against your neck in annoyance.

Logic spoke for you in that moment, but if you'd listened to your desires, you would’ve let her mark your neck with hickeys until it was completely purple.

"Why not?" She pressed another hot kiss against your pulse. She almost sounded like a pouty kid being told she couldn’t have what she wanted.

"Isn’t it obvious?" you whispered. "I can’t just walk into the office covered in hickeys right after a mission with you. It would give us away."

"Jesus, just let go for once…" she murmured, brushing her nose against yours. "Stop worrying so much, those dumbasses won't even notice."

Any response died on your tongue when Ellie kissed you with a burning intensity, the pressure of her lips turning into slow, teasing strokes of her tongue against yours. Her knee slipped between your thighs. You gasped, and she only deepened the kiss, as if she’d been craving this for years.

And before you could notice, her hand pinned your wrists above your head.

"Now, you gonna stop telling me what to do?"

The sound of your zipper opening made your breath hitch. Your back arched, and partly to give her more access, partly because this felt so damn good that you needed more. More of this, more of her.

And when Ellie yanked your pants off and tossed them aside without even glancing at them, a wave of heat shot straight through you.

The look in her eyes was completely predatory.

You were wearing red lace panties, and they matched the bra.

And only now you realized how obvious you must look.

"Ah… you knew this was gonna happen" Ellie accuses, taking them off quickly and giving your wrists a slight squeeze. "Fantasizing about your mission partner, huh? Such a dirty little thing..."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one here that has." you said, fighting back, but not denying it. There was no point in doing so.

She released your wrists and grabbed a fistful of your hair in her hand, tilting your face up to meet hers and giving it a slight pull.

"On that we agree…" she says in a husky voice.

"' 'Cause you don't know how much I fantasized 'bout fucking you, beautiful."

Jesus. fucking. CHRIST.

You let out a shuddering gasp as a shiver went through you like thunder, and the ache in your core became even more unbearable.

"Be a darling and spread your legs." She says as she releases your hair. You comply without complaint, your thighs spreading quickly.

"Atta girl... just like that..."

You don't have to see Ellie's face to feel the smug pride radiating from her as she sees how wet you are.

"Fuck, baby... you're soaked..." She says lowly as presses her finger on your swollen clit, delighting at the strangled gasp you let out.

Her gaze intertwines with yours, and in just a second, she slips two of her fingers inside you, causing you to let out a loud surprised gasp. She starts slowly, but before a few moments she increases the speed.

"Oh God! Ells-" you moan as she bends her fingers upwards to reach that sweet spot inside you that dissolves you in pure pleasure.

She moves her mouth down your body, leaving a wet path in her wake until she stops between your legs. She kisses your inner thighs teasingly, and when you let out a needy moan, her lips wrap around your aching bud and suck. Her tongue caresses your sensitive nerves as her fingers continue ravishing you.

You let out a squeal of pleasure, immediately covering your mouth with one hand to muffle the high-pitched noises. Ellie doesn't cease her relentless stimulation, and it is not long before you bite down on your palm, coming undone around her fingers.

She helps you through it, letting your hips buck against her mouth as your orgasm courses through your body, before gently withdrawing her fingers. Trembling, you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Ellie, with a dark look in her eyes, watches you from between your thighs. Her lips curl into that arrogant fucking smirk that you want to punch out of her face and drives you insane at the same time.

She lifted her fingers, glistening with your arousal, and slowly slipped them into her mouth. Your lips parted as you watched her through your lashes, your eyes dark with lust.

"You taste so goddamn good..." She murmured lowly. Her gaze didn't drift once from your eyes as she sucked every drop, leaving them completely clean.

You could come again right now just because of that.

"This doesn't end here, doll" Ellie murmurs as she moves up your body again to kiss you. You moaned against her lips when you savored your own taste in the kiss.

"I never said I wanted that..." You whisper against her lips, reaching up to pull her hips down to meet yours.

Ellie hisses, moving to remove her pants and grey boxers before pressing her soaking wet center against yours. She moaned as her clit made contact with yours and it wasn't more than a minute before she pressed herself against you and began to grind her hips.

"Fuck, Ellie!" you moaned, closing your eyes in pure ecstasy, the sensation of your center grinding against hers and your clits clashing together making your eyes roll back. It was so good you felt like you were losing your mind.

Nothing mattered anymore. Fuck the agency. Fuck the rescue. Fuck the whole thing.

You wanted to stay inside that haze of pleasure for the rest of your life if possible, here, tangled up with her.

Next to the same infuriating agent you couldn't stand from the start, but now had you right where she wanted—legs open and moaning like her bitch.

The twists and turns of life.

"Shit, shit, please Ellie… I'm gonna…”

You moaned as you pulled away a little to catch your breath. You both were a panting mess, grinding against each other harder and harder.

"Let go f'me…. I'm 'bout to cum too… "

You moved your hips against Ellie, both movements losing rhythm and becoming erratic. The knot in your stomach tightened, and in less than a second, everything went white around you as you let out a strangled moan.

She let out a choked gasp and squinted her eyes tightly, being completely washed over by the orgasm and burying her face in your neck. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, grabbing you before you fell to the ground and hurt yourself.

"Shhh… I've got you…"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Several minutes later, the fire was slowly dying down, leaving the cabin wrapped in a warm dimness. Your breathing was still uneven, but the silence between you remained thick— and neither of you dared to break it.

Ellie still hadn't moved away completely. Her fingers lingered on your skin, tracing lazy patterns along your waist, as if her body refused to accept that the moment was over.

“That was…” You tried to say something, but the words died in your throat.

You felt the cold creeping back in, dragging reality along with it.

“Don’t overthink it. Just go to sleep” Ellie cut in. Her expression was serious, but her eyes were a whole different story, a glisten in them that you never saw before.

She pulled away slowly, but not entirely. Like a part of her didn’t want to. Like she wanted to stay right there, where the warmth was still bearable and the distance minimum.

But in the end, she did. She rolled onto her side, her back facing you, her body stiff, tense.

The cabin fell into complete silence, except for the occasional crackling of the fire. The air was still heavy, thick, as if the moment hadn't really ended.

Ellie turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her expression neutral. You kept staring at her, and the way her chest rose and fell a little too quickly gave her away.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?”

She let out a quiet, amused laugh, still not looking at you.

“I don't know. Maybe I’ll stay up until you say you regret it.”

“And what if I don’t regret it?”

This time, she did turn her head. Her eyes studied you in the dim light, as if trying to figure out if you were serious. Then, in a quiet murmur, she spoke again.

“Then we’re screwed.”

“Yeah. We definitely are.”

Ellie smiled. Just a small curve of her lips, but a smile nonetheless. She didn’t say anything else, just shifted and reached out for you. She slipped her fingers between yours, entwining them with an ease that proved this wasn’t just the adrenaline, or a escape from the cold, or lust. It was something more.

“…Do you regret it?” you whispered softly, not daring to look at her.

Ellie was quiet for a second before answering.

“You want me to be honest? …No. Not at all.” She lifted your chin gently, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I’d do it all over again—every second of it, exactly the way it happened.”

A brief silence hung between you as her words sank in, then a soft, amused laugh escaped your lips.

“Did I just hear you say something sweet? Where’s Ellie and what have you done with her?”

The teasing was nothing but a flimsy shield, barely covering the overwhelming relief that washed over you at her answer.

"Aaaand you just had to ruin the moment." she grumbled, giving your hand a light squeeze. "Now shut up and sleep, princess."

She didn’t say anything else—just sighed and reached out, pulling you against her, her hand firm on the curve of your waist. You closed your eyes as your mind raced, unsure what to think.

You knew this changed everything—made it messier, riskier. That it would put your jobs, your dynamic, everything on the line.

But when you opened your eyes again, hers were already on you, gleaming in the darkness. And for just one damn second, something unspoken burned there. Something that made the fall inevitable.

Something that told you this was far from over.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <333): @st0nerlesb0 @willurms @vahnilla @mancyw1214 @rxreaqia @laceyxrenee @antobooh @tittielover-420 @annoyingpersonxoxo

(if you wanna be added to my permanent tag list, comment or dm me and i'll add you!!!)

OHHH MY FUCKING GOD NOW THATS SOMETHING I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING.

Hope ya'll enjoyed and I'm SUPER grateful for every repost, like or share you wanna give!!! :D

(sorry again if there's any spelling or writing mistake)

[lestapiastrisgirl]

Circuit of Love - Silverstone

Bonus Scene!... Again

Oscar had skipped the usual pilgrimage back to the McLaren Technology Center. After back-to-back race weekends, there was a rhythm to the calendar—debriefs, sim work, the constant churn of data and meetings. Celebration of the teams victories and accomplishments. But not this time. Not after Silverstone.

He needed a break. Andrea and Zak might’ve been less than pleased about it, but Lando had only shrugged and told him to enjoy the time off.

“You’ll be useless in the sim if your head’s still fucked,” he’d said. Oscar had appreciated that.

And now here he was—somewhere in the Mediterranean, on Max’s yacht, parked in an undisclosed inlet with nothing but sun, sea, and silence.

At least for now.

The sun was high and warm overhead, the water around them shifting in lazy, glimmering waves. Charles had his sunglasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, a book cracked open on his lap, pages fluttering lightly in the sea breeze. Beside him, Oscar sprawled on the lounge cushions, phone in hand, absently scrolling, toe tapping against the deck to no rhythm at all.

Max had disappeared well over an hour ago. He’d muttered something about needing to take a call he couldn’t miss, ducking below deck with a wave of his hand and an apologetic kiss to Charles’ cheek on his way by.

Neither Charles nor Oscar had bothered asking for specifics. This wasn’t new behavior. The past few weeks had been full of hushed conversations, half-finished thoughts, and Max keeping his cards frustratingly close to his chest.

Oscar broke the silence first, voice light but laced with something wry, “Wonder if it’s Toto again.”

Charles didn’t bite, flipping a page lazily, “Max will tell us when the contracts are finalized.”

“Sure he will,” Oscar muttered under his breath, but he didn’t push.

Then both of their phones buzzed in near-perfect unison.

Charles glanced down at his lap. Oscar’s brows furrowed as he checked his screen, then straightened sharply. He scrambled up, holding his phone out with an incredulous laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Are you sure about that?” Oscar shoved the phone almost directly into Charles’s face. “Because he didn’t tell us about this.”

Charles squinted at the screen. The headline glared back in bold font:

HORNER TO EXIT RED BULL WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT

“What—?” Charles’s brain stalled for a split second. His gaze flicked between the headline, Oscar’s grin of disbelief, and then back toward the steps leading below deck.

Oscar’s grin widened, sensing Charles’ brewing indignation, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Charles was already on his feet, book abandoned, sunglasses shoved carelessly onto his head, “MAX!”

Oscar scrambled up after him, laughter caught in his throat. He trotted after Charles, quick on his heels as the Monégasque stormed across the deck in search of their vanishing Dutchman.

As they neared the stairs, Oscar called after him, still half-laughing, “You think if we push him overboard, we'll get put on the 'banned from the yacht' list like Lando?”

Charles didn’t even slow down, “We're about to find out.”

The two of them disappeared below deck together, the Mediterranean bright and unbothered around them, as if it didn’t just witness the prelude to an interrogation.

[saywhat-politics]

A new study from the Pew Research Center shows that, in the 2024 presidential election, a slight majority of Latinos voted for former Vice President Kamala Harris — but they also voted for President Donald Trump at a much higher rate than they did in 2020.

Trump managed to garner 48% of the Latino vote compared to Harris' 51% share and significantly jumped past the 36% clip that he got during in the 2020 presidential election. The study's results reveal that the initial 2024 exit polls actually underestimated Latinos' Trump support, with the Republican candidate tracking at 46% of the Latino vote on Election Day.

[chu16a-blog]

Benji Dunn x Reader - Enemy to Lover (Part 1/6)

Pairing: Benji Dunn x Reader

This is chapter 1/6 fanfic (everything is already written because I have exams in a week, and I'm procrastinating). However, I will upload only one chapter per day, ehehe

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

CHAPTER 1: SHADOWS IN BERLIN

Ethan Hunt sat stiffly at the center of the briefing table. Benji Dunn and Luther Stickell flanked either side, the tension between them and the CIA rep so thick it could choke.

"This target is to be captured alive," the agent said, sliding the thin manila folder across the table. "She has stolen a highly sensitive asset. She is considered extremely dangerous. Location pings in Berlin, for now."

Ethan flipped open the folder. Sparse intel. No name. No clear photo. A single blurry image of you, mid-stride.

"What's the asset?" Luther asked.

"Classified. You're to retrieve it, and her."

Benji squinted. "What did she do, exactly?"

"She's considered extremely dangerous," the agent repeated with clipped precision.

Benji raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you mentioned that part. Like, how dangerous? John Wick dangerous or more like ‘don’t eat the wrong sandwich’ dangerous?”

Luther gave him a look. Ethan stayed silent, still scanning the folder.

The agent didn’t blink. “She’s killed before.”

Benji looked surprised, but not entirely convinced. “And yet you want us to bring her in alive?”

"Yes," the agent said flatly. "Just follow the mission."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed further.

The rep gave a stiff smile. "Just follow the mission."

---

The train slid into Berlin Hauptbahnhof just before dawn. Cold wind spilled across the platform as the doors hissed open. You stepped out without hesitation, no luggage, no pause, no second glance at the cameras above the ticket barriers.

New identity burned into your pocket. Data chip sewn into the lining of your sleeve. One chance.

You’d been out of the CIA for less than forty-eight hours. Not that they’d called it an “exit.” People like you didn’t resign. They vanished. Or were buried.

Berlin was the first step. The last known vault of hard-stored intel from the Helix Project. You needed the initial data set—schematics, weapon details, control bypass.

You ducked into an alley. Adjusted the weave of your scarf. Took a breath.

They would come soon. CIA. Or something worse.

You’d seen the file requests ping on the ghost server. Not even an hour after your extraction. Redacted names. One you recognized: Ethan Hunt.

Great. IMF. The CIA’s favorite wildcard cleanup crew.

You didn’t want to hurt them. But you wouldn't be captured either. Not again.

You kept moving. Always moving.

No mistakes.

No attachments.

No mercy.

Not until this thing was gone forever.

Berlin was only the beginning.

Rain misted down onto slick pavement outside an abandoned cybernetics lab tucked away in Berlin's industrial zone. Ethan, Benji, and Luther were in position.

Inside, you were hunting for an encrypted drive left behind by a contact. The place was collapsing from years of neglect, flickering lights exposing fractured tiles and broken labs.

"I’ve got visual," Ethan murmured into the comm.

From your perch near a shattered window, you spotted Ethan.

You cursed under your breath, bolted from the console and into the maze-like hallways. It didn't take long before you heard footsteps.

Ethan was fast.

But not fast enough.

You darted through a heavy security door, slamming it shut just as the sound of pursuit echoed behind you. The metallic clang reverberated through the dimly lit server room, casting long shadows across the rows of humming machines.

Benji Dunn was there.

He stood at a terminal, fingers mid-type, eyes widening as he looked up. His body froze—like a deer caught in headlights.

You had a gun in your hand. And every reason to use it.

The two of you stared at each other across the dark room, breath suspended in the charged stillness. A flickering overhead light passed across your face as your eyes locked.

Benji didn’t move. Couldn’t.

There was no fear in your stance—but there wasn’t comfort either. He didn’t know what to expect.

His breath hitched, chest rising as though bracing for a bullet.

“…Hi,” you said lightly.

Inside your mind, you paused. Why did I say hi? It was ridiculous. You barely knew him, and he was the enemy.

His mouth opened. Then closed.

She said hi.

Why did she say hi?

Is that normal? Do assassins say hi now? Was that sarcastic? Cute? No—dangerous. She's dangerous.

But her voice… it echoed in his head, light and smooth and unexpectedly warm. And those eyes—serious, focused—but there had been a flicker of something else.

Before he could blink, you were gone.

He stood frozen for a beat too long then snapped out of it, cursing under his breath as he bolted after you. He turned the corner just in time to see the tail end of your coat whip around another hallway.

Benji shook his head violently. Stop it. She had a gun pointed at you. A literal weapon. You're being stupid. Hormones are not bulletproof.

And yet, as he sprinted around another corner, a traitorous part of him kept repeating it:

She said hi.

He almost tripped. Who even says hi in the middle of a mission? That’s not protocol. That’s… flirting. Was that flirting? Oh god. Am I into that?

He definitely needed to recalibrate his instincts. Or at least stop thinking her smirk was kind of hot.

“Benji?” Ethan’s voice crackled through the comm, sharp with urgency. “What’s going on?”

Benji huffed, sprinting. “I—I think I’m chasing her? She said hi—and then she ran—and now I’m running!”

There was a pause.

“You think you’re chasing her?” Ethan replied.

Benji wheezed. “Well, she’s very fast and very armed, and I’m just trying to keep up without dying!”

Luther cut in dryly, "Be careful. She’s not a stray cat, Benji."

"I KNOW," Benji panted, turning a corner and catching only empty air.

As you escaped the facility, drive in hand. You found yourself still thinking. That guy’s… kinda cute. Who even is he? You briefly pictured your own breathless face saying hi, the silly flirtatious thought creeping in but you shook it off sharply. No. He’s the enemy.

[papoochu]

Next up on the council, is Gabriel's replacement: Keza Kaberuka! I love drawing her!

Background:

Keza = Rwandan name meaning “beautiful one”

Kaberuka = Common Tutsi surname; evokes heritage, resilience, and ambition

Born 1988 in Kigali, Rwanda to an educated Tutsi family with deep cultural roots and political aspirations

Father was a professor of history; mother was a nurse

1994 – Rwandan Genocide (Age 6):

Family targeted during the genocide

Father is abducted and executed by local militia. Keza and her mother seek sanctuary in a church

Militia overruns it. Her mother is killed defending her. Keza survives by hiding beneath corpses.

Rescued by a Belgian photojournalist and smuggled out under UN protection, Taken to a Johannesburg refugee center

The council is here ready to intervene and start grooming her into their weapon

In the refugee camps, she learns something vital: Beauty can open doors. Vulnerability can be a weapon.

Trauma fuses with clarity: The world respects nothing but power and presentation.

Johannesburg Upbringing:

Raised in the household of a South African diplomat’s widow, who uses Keza as a status symbol while grooming her for high society

Attends elite private schools on sponsorship - an outsider among the privileged Learns to mimic affluence, control perception, and move unnoticed through influence circles

Fluent in French, English, Swahili, Afrikaans

Begins studying conflict minerals and post-colonial economies as a quiet obsession; Understands diamonds are not just ornaments - they are geopolitical weapons

2006 – First Industry Contact (Age 18):

Attends a diamond investment gala as an escort to a wealthy patron

Meets a Belgian mining tycoon - seduces him subtly, plays on his guilt, fascination, and ego

Becomes his protégé - travels to Geneva, Luanda, Dubai etc.

Learns how diamonds move across war zones and into luxury boutiques

Understands the power of intimate diplomacy: charm disarms faster than threats

Blood Diamond Trade Expansion:

Establishes a shell company in Mauritius and begins dealing directly with rebel commanders in the Democratic Republic of Congo and Angola

Context: Rwanda was helping rebel groups at the time for political reasons; Angola was facing post-civil-war instability and is one of the world's largest diamond producers

Offers them access to satellite data, encrypted communications, and luxury goods in exchange for exclusive rights to diamond-rich zones

Smuggles stones through private jets, diplomatic pouches, and via fake humanitarian convoys

Creates a mythos: a woman who never carries a weapon, but always exits with everything she came for

Uses her connections to get stones past the Kimberley Process via falsified documentation and complicit middlemen

Kimberley Process: an international initiative aimed at preventing the trade of conflict diamonds, ensuring that diamond purchases do not finance violence or human rights abuses

2012 - “Court Kaberuka” Era:

Launches Court Kaberuka, a luxury consultancy for ��heritage stone placement” - a front for laundering blood diamonds

Double entendre - "court" for royalty and "court" for seducing

Advises politicians, oligarchs, and royalty on how to convert illicit stones into family jewels, auction pieces, and “clean” assets

Begins maintaining a private vault; The Silent Portfolio: a collection of the most politically damning diamonds in circulation

Each gem in the vault is tied to a secret: assassinations, coup funding, war crimes etc.

Uses the collection as leverage, not profit

Infiltration of Global Diplomacy:

Cultivates discreet romantic and political ties with various politicians and people of importance:

A foreign trade minister

A UN sanctions coordinator

An Emirati royal involved in arms logistics

etc.

Offers influence, protection, and secrets - all cloaked in charm and intimacy

Establishes a diplomatic status under a Central African nation’s special envoy credentials

Moves across borders without scrutiny

2016 – Recruited by the Council (Present-Day):

Former council operative "Diamond" is eliminated

Keza, already known to council members as a power broker too effective to ignore, is approached,

Terms are simple: absolute discretion, full operational autonomy, and the codename Diamond

She accepts with a single condition - she chooses which wars not to stop

Seductive but never promiscuous - her intimacy is transactional, weaponized, and unforgettable

Uses her power not for chaos, but for leverage - every gem a favor owed, every buyer a pawn

In the diamond world, beauty is value - and Keza Kaberuka is priceless

Design Notes/Character Study

Tutsi culture

Long-horned Inyambo - hairpin; can be used as a weapon too

Choker:

Based on pics of Intore dancers and Tutsi warriors

Outfit inspirations

Anok Yai

Elsa

Mel Medarda

Scar on thigh

Shows to seduce officials

If she shows you, that's not an invite - that's a threat

Friendly with children

Picture of child - show hand reaching for diamonds but watching apple

Apple - reference to Adam and Eve

Wants to make a new world through the new generation

Queen of Hearts reference

Diamonds woven into her hair

Remember: seductive but never promiscuous

Make her the center of attention

Glides with grace - like a dancer

Silver jewelry matches her cool-toned skin

Dimples - must be charming, friendly, and welcoming

[max1461]

I now feel that I know exactly what's happening. I have developed a model of this condition that has been incredibly predictive, but:

it seems to defy all medical logic

I struggle myself to believe it, even though it keeps being predictive

The alternatives are basically psychosis and PTSD, because those seem like the two conditions that could make me think I have a predictive-but-medically-impossible model, when in reality I'm just suffering from some kind of delusion. But three neurologists and two psychologists have all dismissed psychosis, even though I've asked them all about that possibility several times (because, fuck, on priors that's a lot more likely). I still think PTSD may be involved somehow, in light of the fact that this seems to be praying on my greatest fears, and there is a flashback-like element to it. But it would need to be a symptomatically very atypical manifestation of PTSD. Not impossible.

Here is my model:

I have such a vivid memory because I associate sensory information with body movements/sensations, and can re-trigger the sensory information by repeating the body movement. I guess this would be some type of synesthesia?

The body movements are tic-like, in that they're often involuntary and can be triggered by sensory stimulus that is related to the one they encode. Whenever I remember an event, these movements trigger and allow me to re-experience the sensory details.

The experiences are vivid but internal.

If the tics is interrupted by other sensory experience, that gets layered on to the original experience it encoded. Mostly when these tics happen though, I am sufficiently absorbed in my own mind that external data is not written to them.

At the dentist, I was making a face which encoded complex sensory and emotional information, due to the nature and content of the panic attack I was having. When I got the anesthesia, my nerve or something got frozen half way through this tic. Uncertain if nerve damage or psychological artifact of the experience.

Thus, I became stuck in a state of perpetually experiencing the emotional and sensory content of that panic attack.

My body keeps trying to "complete the tic", by twitching my face in a certain way. However, it can't. I have repeatedly felt the tic try to go off in my face, I feel some of the twitch and an intense straining sensation, with a feeling that I am about to exit the dream-like state I am in, but the tic fails and I remain in this state.

Because of this, two things happen. Any experiences I have get written to that tic, which feels strange and stressful (because of the intense emotional content encoded there). This explains "the mush".

Also, because the tic can't happen, it tries to come out other places, in other body parts. This explains why I keep feeling the same pattern of movements elsewhere in my body, which feels proprioceptively wrong and foreign because that's supposed to be my face. It feels like it's my face, even it's in my stomach.

By going off in these other places, the tic acquires sensory information associated with them, which is why when it tries to go off in my face again it's weirdly "deformed"—by these other body parts!

The tic is currently settling into a new center of mass(?) in my stomach, so it keeps feeling like my and other people's faces are there.

The tic has a distinct "deformed part", which proprioceptively feels bulbuous and pulsating, and a "correct part", which proprioceptively feels like a series of facial twitches

This corresponds to the correct part of my memories and the mixed up part, which I tap into by directing my bodily focus. When the tic is happening, I can literally get more correct thoughts and memories by focusing on the non-deformed part.

Because I am stuck half way through the tic, and my mind is not used to being there that long, I am experiencing all this hyper-vividly, like hypnogogic hallucinations. I do actually get imagery almost this vivid for short moments as tics are going off in ordinary life, but this is stuck that way.

The "hole" in my thoughts is whatever physical part of my body, presumably in the upper throat, is failing to activate and allow the tic to complete. This is why focusing on the whole, or trying to push the correct thoughts through, often causes me to gag or throw up.

It's something like that. I don't know how that could possible work but this has been so predictive of a model that it's hard to ignore. What the fuck do I do about this?

[moonchild9350]

Lavender Fields-Chapter 4: Anger

Summary: you both yearn for each other, but are held back by your positions within the lab. you believe Hyunjin will be there with you for the foreseeable future, but may have to learn that nothing lasts forever.

Pairing: Hyunjin x humanoid!gn!reader

Genre: sci fi au, romance au, angst, fluff

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: mention of minor character death, teasing?

Notes: another chapter is here. I loved expanding on Hyunjin’s relationship with our dearly beloved hehe.

If you enjoyed this please consider a like, reblog, or comment ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

Series Summary: you, a humanoid from a different planet, was born within a lab here on earth in the near future, your days filled with servitude and testing within the labs to learn more about your kind as your kind are not able to feel emotion. you had nothing to look forward to until you met Hyunjin, a technician assigned to you. you learn much at his hands and invaluable lessons, enlightening your once purposeless life.

Please do not copy, modify, use, translate, or repost my work without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2024)

Series Masterlist

Prev | Next

Hyunjin opened his file once more, preparing to divulge his secrets.

“Y/n, was successful in their session, showing the capability to learn emotions. However, there is still some push back so I will need more time with them.”

Raoul smirked from his seat. He knew Hyunjin was lying. He had an orderly that he has under him follow Hyunjin, keep tabs on him. He knows that the sessions were more than successful.

He needs to catch Hyunjin in his lie, get him unassigned to you so he could have his little plaything back. Raoul misses the fear that would grace your face as he berated you. It gave him great joy to see something lesser than him to cower in fear.

Yes he called you a something, you’re not a someone to him, none of your kind are.

“Hyunjin,” Raoul said lifting his finger up as if to call attention to himself. “I think you’re missing some things. Like how y/n not only understands emotions, but can express them as well. Let’s not forgot too how you went to their quarters late last night. What was that about I wonder?”

Hyunjin froze in his seat at Raoul’s words. How did he know that? Was he following him? He could feel a thin sheen of sweat form, his shirt feeling a little too sticky for his comfort. His heart felt like it was going to burst out his chest at the thought of this man knowing everything that has occurred between you two.

Hyunjin swallowed and tried to think of an answer, not wanting to divulge the truth.

“Well yes, but it is still unclear the extent of their knowledge. More sessions need to occur before we come to any conclusion.” Hyunjin said.

The others in the room stared at him and a disgruntled look on the chief’s face did not make him feel particularly great.

There was silence throughout the room, no one moved or said anything. Hyunjin wasn’t sure what would happen next, but he knew nothing good was going to come out of this meeting.

“Well, since we need more data, why don’t we run a few more tests before continuing the sessions? We can have Y/n moved to the testing center in the meantime.”

Hyunjin stared at the chief with horror. He could not like that happen. If you truly did go to the testing center, you would come out broken, all hopes of any further sessions gone.

“But sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I believe that will only hinder progress.”

“On the contrary, Hyunjin, I believe it will help. We will move y/n tomorrow that is final. I will work with the team to get a protocol in place for testing in the meantime. You are dismissed. “

Dismissed. The meeting is over. Hyunjin closed your file with shaky hands. This isn’t good. He needs to see you, explain to you what is going to happen, apologize before you are moved.

His heart was heavy, his mind a jumbled mess as he exited the room. Everything would have been fine if Raoul hadn’t been there.

Hyunjin sat at his desk and rested his head in his hands. He knew his feelings were getting in the way, but how could they not. Look at you, with your lust for life and to learn, your beauty.

He will visit you later and maybe you won’t hold this against him.

-- --

You started your day off good, feeling better than you have in ages. You’re working again today since you don’t have a session.

You couldn’t believe it, but you’d much rather be with Hyunjin than sorting the clothes for the wash. You’re not sure why you feel this way, your heart soaring at the thought of him.

You caught yourself thinking about him, thinking of his warm eyes and how gentle he is with you. A smile almost graced your face, but you stopped yourself just in time. You’re not sure what would happen if you had actually let it happen.

Last night before bed, you gazed at the necklace perched on your chest, your fingers tracing the edges of the moon pendant and traveling over to the star.

It suited you, the diamonds shining as the light reflected off of them. You had to hide the gift, just as Hyunjin suggested so that way no one would know you had it.

You definitely didn’t want Hyunjin to get in trouble on account of you.

You toiled away, wishing the time to speed up so you could go back to your room. You wandered if Hyunjin would visit you tonight, your lips twitching at the thought.

You didn’t have to wait long as the bell tolled signaling the end of the shift. An orderly escorted you out, guiding you back to your room as always.

Once inside you sat down and picked up your favorite book, deciding to reread it yet again. Time passed as you got lost in the pages, your mind traveling to the faraway land that was being described.

The silence in the room would be deafening for some, but you loved it, sitting in silence. It was comforting to hear your own breath as you breathed evenly, in and out in and out, as your fingers thumbed the pages, the sound of paper rustling as you went to the next page.

You could occasionally hear someone walk by your room, their voice muffled as they continued down the hall.

You’re not sure how much time passed, as there was no way to tell time in your room. As you got to your favorite part, there was a knock on the door and the sound of the door unlocking.

You looked up to see who it was as you held your breath. You let it out as you realized it was Hyunjin, a big smile gracing your face.

You slammed your book shut and jumped up, running to the man. You wanted to try something you say in the clips from yesterday’s session.

As you approached him, you stopped and placed your hands behind your back. You avoided his gaze as you rocked back and forth on your heels. Deciding to go with it, you closed the gap and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest.

Hyunjin was surprised, not expecting this reaction from you. He cautiously returned the hug, his arms wrapping around your frame. You were warm under his touch, your head fitting perfectly under him. He nuzzled his head gently on yours as he let out a sigh.

Standing there in your embrace made him sad however, his heart aching at the fact he’d have to break the news to you soon. It’s part of the reason he came to see you anyway.

He gave you a squeeze before disentangling your arms from him and holding you at arms length.

“What was that for?” He teased, a soft smile spreading on his face.

You looked up at him, gazing into the eyes you wished to see all day.

“I am happy and saw those people do this in the clip from yesterday and I wanted to try it.”

Hyunjin peered down at you taking in your innocent face, your eyes wide as saucers.

“I’m glad you’re happy y/n. I need to talk with you ok?”

You nodded and walked to your bed, sitting down on your blanket.

Hyunjin sat next to you in silence, his eyes on your mural. He was sad as he took in the beautiful painting, knowing you wouldn’t get to work on it for a while if ever again.

Might as well rip the bandaid off.

“Y/n, you will be moved tomorrow for further testing. I spoke with the higher ups and they want to proceed with this plan.”

You looked at Hyunjin, your head cocked. “Moved? Where will I go?”

Hyunjin couldn’t look at you, couldn’t answer your question. Instead he fiddled with his hands, taking interest in his manicured nails.

You needed to be prepared, Hyunjin thought. You’ve been kept in the dark your whole life. He wants you to be aware of your history, the purpose of this lab, the purpose of your existence on this earth. He owes you that at least.

“What do you know of your birth y/n? Of your purpose?” Hyunjin asked, getting the courage to look at you.

“Nothing,” you answered. What was going on? Hyunjin seemed to be acting strange.

“Well I feel as if you should know. You know where you’re from, the planet Gevora. Your mother and some others were brought here under the pretext of having a better life as it wasn’t so great on your home planet. That was a lie however. They allowed the children, including you to stay with your mothers until the age of five. Then you were taking away to start your training or testing.”

Hyunjin took a deep breath and let it out, as he’s sadness turned to anger.

“The lab, this corporation wants to experiment and test to see if any of your kind has emotions or feelings that can help you integrate into human society. Most of your kind cannot understand and emotion as it wasn’t needed on your home planet. However, you’re different, probably a genetic mutation, a minor change in your DNA that has allowed you to comprehend these complex emotions and express them. Since you are so different, they are ecstatic and want to keep you here. They won’t let you go. I just know it.”

You watched as Hyunjin balled up his fists, his face scrunched up as he breathed rapidly. You recognized this, seeing the reaction on Raoul’s face more times than you can count.

You started to scoot away before Hyunjin gently stopped you.

“Don’t…I’m sorry y/n,” he said, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort.

You stopped moving and looked at Hyunjin. Is what he said really true? Was your mother forcibly taken from your home planet? Lied to by humans?

You felt heat raise to your face, little red spots forming in your vision. You felt tense, your muscles contracting as your mind wandered.

You wanted to ask Hyunjin one thing and one thing only.

“What happened to my mother?”

Hyunjin was silent for a moment. “She died shortly after you were taken away.”

You could sense something else Hyunjin wasn’t telling you. You could tell something was wrong.

“What are they going to do to me?” You asked cautiously, not sure you want to hear the answer.

“You’ll probably go through a series of tests. What exactly those tests are I’m not sure. You most likely won’t be living like how you are now. It’ll be pretty miserable. It’s just not right! It’s not!” Hyunjin exclaimed.

He stood up abruptly and paced the floor, mumbling under his breath. There was nothing he could do. There’s nothing. Nothing.

He feels useless, a failure. He’s supposed to further advance research, not torture and lie to others.

“Hyunjin…what’s wrong?” You asked, your eyes following him as he paced your room.

“I'm sorry…I'm just, ugh so angry! This shouldn’t be happening!”

You were taken aback at his screams, your heart beating so hard you could hear it in your head, the constant thump thump loud in your ears.

“Angry? I don’t understand.”

Hyunjin stopped pacing and turned to look at you. His facial features softening as he took in your concern.

He rushed to your side and sat down, placing his hand on your thigh.

“It’s another emotion y/n. It’s a feeling of being tense, maybe speechless. You may want to scream, shout, needing to get the energy out.”

You considered his words, taking in the explanation. “I think I’m angry Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin nodded at your confession, his eyes roaming your face. You did seem more flush than usual, your muscles tense. He’s once more amazed at how quickly you can grasp such a complex emotion in such a short time frame.

“It’ll be okay Y/n... okay? I’ll try and come see you. Maybe help out, that way you’ll see a friendly face.”

Hyunjin caught your eyes, making sure you were grasping what he was saying.

“Ok,” you whispered, your hand going to your necklace automatically.

Hyunjin smiled that you were wearing the necklace he gave you.

“I’m so happy you’re wearing my gift I gave you. But make sure to hide it well before they come get you tomorrow ok?”

You nodded your head and smiled. You knew things would be okay. Hyunjin was looking out for you after all.

“What were you doing before I came in?” Hyunjin asked.

You picked up your book and showed him the cover. “I was reading. It’s one of my favorite books.”

Hyunjin carefully took the book from you and looked through it. It seemed to be right up your alley full of adventure.

He didn’t want to leave just yet. He had some time. “Can you read it for me?”

You were shocked that he wanted to listen to you read. You were excited at the prospect of Hyunjin staying here with you, so you took the book and opened it up.

You began to read, your soft voice echoing throughout the room. You settled into the pillows, your body relaxing with each passing second.

Hyunjin is seated at the foot of your bed, his back resting against the wall. He’s turned slightly towards you, so he can watch, not wanting to waste another moment not looking at you.

He was captivated as you read to him, your focus on the book in front of you. He could tell you had visited this story many times as you knew it by heart, your expressions matching whatever scene was playing out.

He loved the sound of your voice, so soft and sweet, that he felt his eyes droop, exhaustion taking over.

It would be okay to close his eyes right? Here tucked away in your room, away from demands and responsibilities. Here where he can listen to your voice.

Yeah, he’d be alright. He slowly drifted off to sleep, his ears listening to your story until he fell into a deep sleep.

At some point during your story, you looked up and noticed Hyunjin asleep, his head tucked into his chin. You felt your heart skip a beat at the fact that he was asleep here in your room and on your bed no less.

You carefully closed your book and set it down. Grabbing one of your blankets, you draped it over him and gently laid him down, his hair splayed across your sheets.

Satisfied, you got and quickly changed, making sure Hyunjin was still asleep first. Once dressed for bed, you slid under the sheets and snuggled under.

You felt tired but comfortable, since Hyunjin was here. You didn’t understand this feeling, but you were happy nonetheless.

Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep. The two of you slept soundly and completely comfortable, your heads filled with soft dreams.

-- --

“Hyunjin! Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin could hear his name as someone was shouting it. He thought he was dreaming, that is until he heard it again.

“Hyunjin!”

He sat upright, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He looked around, forgetting where he was at first. Once he realized he had fallen asleep in your room, he jumped up, as panic took over.

Looking up, he saw not only a few orderlies, but the chief too.

Shit. He’s really fucked up now. He looked over and saw you cowering in the corner of your bed , your blankets pulled over your body.

“Why are you in here?” The chief demanded. “We needed you to finalize the plans for tomorrow but you were nowhere to be found. Instead we find you here…with…with them.”

He said the last word with malice, disgust clear on his face.

“You’ve proven you’re too close in this case. Hyunjin as of now, you are no longer y/n's technician. Leave immediately.”

Hyunjin was devastated at the chief’s words, his worst nightmare coming true. Hyunjin has known you for so long and even though you just physically met, he feels fond of you.

He looks at you once more, trying to convey his apology through his eyes before getting up and dragging himself out of the door. The chief follows closely behind followed by the orderlies.

The door shuts with a sort of finality, like the worst is yet to come.

You stare at the place where Hyunjin was lying, the imprint from his body still present on your blankets. You reached a hand to touch the spot, the area still warm.

You became tense again, your eyes narrowed as your breathing increased.

Anger. That’s what Hyunjin called this. You were angry, your brief period of happiness gone.

You were angry that the lab took your family from its home. That they took you away from your mother, that you couldn’t say goodbye.

You were angry that you spent so many years kept in the dark, shielded from anything that could lead to your advancement and benefit you in this world.

You were angry that the lab forced Hyunjin to partake in this project.

You were angry.

You were furious.

You were….

As you sat on your bed, your fingers playing with the fringe of your blanket, your heart felt heavy, the ache spreading as you continued to think of how Hyunjin was gone.

You might not ever see him again and that was a thought you couldn’t bear. You were frustrated, not understanding why you felt this way. You wished you could have asked him about this before he left.

You sat on your bed the rest of the night, as you stared blankly ahead. You didn’t dare move, only sit there quietly as you felt a fire rush through you.

You let the anger boil over until your hands were shaking, until your eyes filled with tears again.

You didn’t know what to do. What to say. All you knew is you wanted Hyunjin, needed him.

You needed him to tell you everything would be okay.

And as the morning hours came and more movement was heard on the other side of your door, you continued to sit, staring straight ahead as the little happiness you had faded away.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee

[astutebusiness]

Scale Smart: Oracle Data Center Exit to OCI

Move confidently to the cloud with Astute’s Oracle Data Center Exit strategy. Migrate workloads to Oracle Cloud Infrastructure (OCI) for reduced costs, faster growth and full regulatory compliance. Make your data work harder! Contact us to begin your cloud journey today!

[esoanem]

Important takeaways from the US election that should actually bring you hope

Trump did not get more votes than in 2020

This election was lost because the Democrats lost votes the Republicans (and third parties) did not pick up

This makes it clear that there are election-winning numbers of people who do not feel catered to by either party

There are significant numbers of people further left than the Democrats, and of the Democrats actually decide to appeal to them (the people who previously voted Democrat but didn't this time) they can win again

The bad news is that I suspect the Democrats will continue to look only at exit polls and so consider those who didn't vote a lost cause, something that will inevitably lead to them moving right in a doomed attempt to "appeal to the center" (which has basically never worked as a tactic). I have some further analysis on this topic, and how people are misinterpreting exit poll data (in ways that align with the conclusions the DNC always draws after electoral losses) here

Politics does not start and end at the ballot box

You need to get involved now to try and force them to listen to the actual evidence and move left, not just because that is the moral thing to do, but because it is what will make them able to win an election (which is all the DNC actually cares about)

That means things like joining your local DSA chapter (for all I have issues with them), and actually participating in the internal party politics of the Democratic party

It also means showing up for local elections & primaries and vocally supporting leftwing candidates over establishment Democrats

[apod]

2025 May 9

IXPE Explores a Black Hole Jet Illustration Credit: NASA, Pablo Garcia

Explanation: How do black holes create X-rays? Answering this long-standing question was significantly advanced recently with data taken by NASA’s IXPE satellite. X-rays cannot exit a black hole, but they can be created in the energetic environment nearby, in particular by a jet of particles moving outward. By observing X-ray light arriving from near the supermassive black hole at the center of galaxy BL Lac, called a blazar, it was discovered that these X-rays lacked significant polarization, which is expected when created more by energetic electrons than protons. In the featured artistic illustration, a powerful jet is depicted emanating from an orange-colored accretion disk circling the black hole. Understanding highly energetic processes across the universe helps humanity to understand similar processes that occur on or near our Earth.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap250509.html

[anghraine]

I'm trying to redirect my political thoughts from my fandom escape blog again, but I found something interesting enough that I thought I'd talk a little about it.

Occasionally I choose suffering (looking at the more granular 2024 exit poll breakdowns rather than the summaries that I mostly don't trust much at this point). Anyway, I did find something intriguing, if not particularly surprising, in the CNN exit polls, which were done in Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Michigan, Nevada, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Texas, and Wisconsin with a sample size of 22,914 voters.

(I mention the specific states forming the sample because this pretty notably excludes any blue states while including some reliably Republican ones.)

Anyway, most exit polls including CNN's let respondents identify their place on the US political spectrum: conservative, moderate, or liberal (reminder that "liberal" in US usage can be a pejorative for "less leftist than me" but also a shorthand for "radical leftist" but also for "anyone who doesn't seek a cishet white Christian ethnostate", but also can be a more neutral synonym for progressives and/or leftists and is often used that way, as here). So you can look at the election results for each of these ideological factions and what share of the overall sample size they represent.

The interesting thing: this "liberal" category accounted for very similar proportions to 2020 of the overall vote in the sample (24% in 2020, 23% in 2024—a difference well within the margin of error of exit polling). There is no need to explain liberals/leftists staying home in 2024: at least in terms of proportions of the overall electorate, they didn't. Just under 1/4 of voters in 2024 were liberals or leftists, just as in 2020.

Okay, if the most leftwards faction of the US political spectrum actually formed a similar proportion of the electorate, then who did they vote for?

Harris. In CNN's own exit polls from 2020, 89% of this faction voted for Biden, and (surprisingly!) a full 10% voted for Trump. God knows what motivated that 10% Trump share after four years of his hellscape of an administration at the height of COVID, but in any case, that support cratered in 2024. 91% of this group voted for Harris and only 4% for Trump. It's an estimate, but it looks like these very peculiar Trump voters had enough of him in 2024 and around half either voted third party this time or for Harris.

So which faction is Trump's victory coming from? Further consolidation of the far right?

In part, yes! 90% of conservatives voted for Trump in 2024, vs 85% in 2020—likely, some conservatives who voted third party or even for Biden in 2020 came "home" this year. However, conservative turnout was actually a little down in 2024, proportionally speaking: conservatives dropped from 38% of the sample in 2020 to 34% in 2024.

But there's one more major faction in all this: "moderates" or centrists. To be clear, we're talking about the US version of centrism, given that this is a US organization polling US voters about US politicians, not "Bernie would be center-right in Denmark" or whatever. This moderate faction jumped from 38% of the overall sample in 2020 to 42% in 2024, and they swung hard towards Trump, though Harris still won a plurality of them. In 2020, 64% of moderates voted for Biden vs 34% for Trump. In 2024, 57% of them voted for Harris vs 40% for Trump—that is, the Democratic lead among centrists dropped precipitously from +30 to +17.

Tl;dr—ideologically speaking, this data suggests that Trump owes his victory to gains among both right-wing and centrist voters rather than some faction of would-be leftists or progressives apathetically staying home or voting third-party or otherwise deserting Democrats (because they're insufficiently radical or for any other reason).

Oh, and if you're curious as to how this compares to CNN's 2016 exit polls, I also checked those! Harris's 84-point lead among the most leftwards faction is a significant improvement from HRC's 74-point lead in 2016. Trump also got 10% of that group in 2016, as in 2020, so it's this campaign—not Hillary's or Biden's—that managed to eat into whatever the hell is going on with that group.

Harris's +17 with moderates is actually a slight improvement on Hillary's +12 in 2016. Biden's jump to a +30 lead among centrists in 2020 represented either a backlash against Trump from centrists, or Biden's own rapport with that group, or some mysterious issue some of those voters had with both HRC and Harris (I wonder what it could be!!), or some combination thereof. Regardless, there are a lot of actual ideologically centrist voters in the USA and not just would-be leftists who haven't heard the good news of Marx yet. And Trump has an iron grip on the right wing at this point: he beat Hillary with conservatives by +65 in 2016, then beat Biden with an even larger margin of +71, then leapt to a 81-point lead over Harris with right-wing voters this year.

[blackkatmagic]

for the ask game! how about granta omega?

Sometimes, there are doors to the spirit world in the most convenient places.

Granta slips out of the wild tangle of electric and organic and into the sterile halls of the Senate building, light on his feet in the darkness. The air here hums, heavy and dark, and Granta breathes it in and smiles.

It never fails to satisfy, the fact that so many thousands of benders and Force-sensitives are so desperately chasing one poor, powerless thief around Coruscant, howling like tookas that just got their tails stepped on.

Well. For certain definitions of powerless. And poor.

Pulling his hood up, Granta hums a quiet tune, scanning the Vice-Chancellor’s office. Mas Amedda isn't quite stupid enough to leave proof of his involvement with the Sith out in the open, but it’s a near thing. And he’s certainly not that careful with proof of his corruption. If Granta didn’t know better, he’d think Mas Amedda was outright asking for someone to blackmail him into betraying Palpatine, and, well. Granta will graciously take him up on the offer if he’s so desperate for it.

It only takes a few moments of slicing to find what he needs, and Granta tucks the data chips away in his coat, neatens the office to erase all signs of his presence, and heads for the hall. There’s another door into the spirit world three levels down that opens up in a plain half-consumed by wires that grow and leaf like vines, and from there Granta knows a path through one of the more misanthropic spirits’ territory, leading to another exit deep in the Undercity. As much as Granta enjoys making the Senate Guard pull their collective hair out over his entrances and exits, sometimes it’s more productive to get out with less of a fuss—

Glass cracks, shatters, and the wind howls like an enraged thing, so strong that for an instant Granta is almost spun off his feet. He snarls a curse, wrenches around, and stopping a bender’s power is possible but not here, not suddenly. Getting away is a better plan, because once Granta is out of sight he’ll be faceless, unremarkable even to a clone trooper.

When he goes to run, though, the airborne shards of glass that are supposed to be shatterproof are still spinning through the air, and the trooper in the center of the storm has his blaster up and aimed, perfectly steady despite the gale.

All benders are at least a little annoying, in Granta's perfectly objective opinion, but airbenders are some of the worst.

“Surrender,” the clone says, a clear warning, and Granta rolls his eyes even as he takes a half-step back, gaze flickering up and down the hall. Getting back into the spirit world is possible even without retreating to the door he emerged from, but the idea of giving away what he is so early in the game is disappointing. Granta was hoping to see the Guard scramble around looking for clues for at least another few weeks while he set up all the pieces on the board.

“Little old me?” Granta asks, pitched to faux innocence that’s meant to infuriate. He takes another step back, calculating his odds of getting into Mas Amedda’s office again before the clone can reach it. “I'm just doing my civic duty. Shaking off a few cobwebs, uncovering the truth about our esteemed leaders. Are you really going to persecute me for that?”

“No,” the clone says, entirely, delightfully unimpressed. “I'm going to persecute you for burglary and breaking and entering. Hands up.”

Obligingly, Granta raises his hands, palming one of his knives as he goes. “Really,” he drawls. “How uninspired of you. Commander, wasn’t it? I think I've seen you around before—”

Movement. Impossibly quick, almost as quick as a Jedi, with the force of a hurricane behind it. Granta flings the knife even as he throws himself to the side, hits the ground and rolls beneath a scything kick, a burst of air so concentrated that it leaves a dent in the wall. It just misses him, though, and Granta whirls grabs for the blaster at the small of his back and puts two shots in the air—

Impact, hard enough to steal his breath, and the clone commander slams him up against the wall with all the force of a tornado, grabs for his hood—

The face is as easy to slip into as a new coat, and Granta throws his hands up, turns his cheek like he’s braced for a blow as the dark hood falls away. The commander freezes, breath catching audibly, and Granta looks up at him with a clone’s face, eyes wide.

“Commander,” he says, and it wavers, almost cracks—

“Fox!” another clone shouts, and instantly Fox is moving again, grabbing. Granta throws himself to the side, but Fox follows him, hits the ground on top of him, and Granta laughs as he lets his own face flicker back into being.

“Fox,” he repeats, halfway to mocking. “What a good name.” In an instant he’s pulled that face up, twists out of Fox’s grip as a sleek black fox and flips free, then bolts sideways even as the other clones lunge to catch him. This shape is quicker than a Human, though, and in an instant he’s hurtling back towards Mas Amedda’s office, rounding a corner with Fox scrambling behind him—

One step sideways, a leap, and he’s back in the spirit world, landing lightly amidst a forest of trees with metal-veined leaves, the mortal world falling way behind him.

“Thank you, Mother of Faces,” he says lightly, and when he rises it’s as a Human again. The opposable thumbs are so useful, after all, even if wearing different faces all his life has left him only vaguely attached to any of them.

And then, with a whirling gust, wind sweeps through the forest, rattling the tree leaves and startling Granta. He whirls, and across the half-there shimmer of distance that marks the separation, he can just see Fox in his bright red armor, stalking up the hall and straight towards the spot where Granta vanished. He stops there, close enough to touch, and even if Granta can't hear what he says when he raises his comm, he can guess. Laughs, leans in, and there's no way for Fox to feel the brush of fingertips that aren't in the same plane, but Fox still pauses, turns his head.

“How interesting,” Granta says, and he can feel the shard of the Mother of Faces inside him, present since the moment he was born, turn towards Fox in contemplation. She likes the clones, so set in their identity, forging their own faces out of sameness. And that makes Granta like them, too.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he can't play a few games, particularly when it comes to toying with Fox. The man is interesting, after all.

[mariacherry]

TSM Command Center (TSMCC)

TSM Command Center is a comprehensive mod that gives you full control over the game. With it, you can control the generation and population, fix bugs, instantly customize characters (traits, skills, appearance), repaint objects without downloads, and reset missing or broken items.

With it, you will get full control and will be able to customize the game for yourself — quickly and without problems!

WHAT PROBLEMS DOES IT SOLVE? ✔️ Stuck character\object ✔️ Removing objects from getting stuck in your hands ✔️ Inventory cleaning from overloaded items ✔️ Fixing the pregnant gait bug of the character ✔️ Adding a forced exit from the tutorial mode ✔️The ability to limit the generation of characters, reduce the size of the save

MAIN FUNCTIONS

🔴SIM

Reset

Clear inventory

Character stats

Turn off the drop in needs\Make me happy

Make it manageable

Kill\Make him immortal

Grow up

Edit in CAS

Change your name\title

Change your physique

Change character traits\skills\abilities

Choose a profession\religion\faction\orientation\zodiac sign

Family budget

Moving

Assign clothes to armor/nightclothes

Add a wound

🔴PREGNANCY

Start/terminate pregnancy

Enable/disable pregnant gait

Choose the sex of the child

Give birth now

Choose a trimester

Establish the chance of pregnancy\nausea\ back pain

Change the duration of pregnancy\ "baby" stage

🔴LOT

Reset

Information about the lot

Build

Sell everything

Bring the camera closer here

Exit the tutorial mode

🔴MAILBOX

Reset the world

Kingdom statistics

Change the name\metrics\points\taxes of the kingdom

Change the probability of generating children\urban personalities

Limit the size of the population

To age the population\make children adults

Make everyone happy

Discover all herbs\ore deposits

Change the time\day\weather

Build on the selected site

Kingdom change mode

Turn on the antique effect

Cheats

Exit the training mode

🔴THE WELL

Fill it up\Empty it

Select the water condition

Enable debugging actions

Set the amount of water\refresh time\queue

🔴COOKING

Enable\Turn off the flame

Change the color of the flame

Empty the barrel

Set the price of cooking \the price of a portion of alcohol

Set the number of servings of food/alcohol

Set the cooking/burning time of the food\queue

🔴OBJECT

Reset

Delete

Change the color

⚠️ IMPORTANT ❗ Some features of the mod may damage the save. With extreme caution, you should use:

Editing children in CAS (first tab)

Kingdom change mode (test world edit option)

Deleting objects (from inventory or world) may result in loss of related data if the item was part of an active quest.

⚠️ RECOMMENDATIONS 1) Create backups of your saves before using the mod. 2) Gradually apply the functions, monitoring the stability of the game 3) Avoid mass purges in the middle of important game events.

💌DOWNLOAD

MC TSM Command Center | v 1.0 | Full version (Mediafire)

or ALTERNATIVE (Google)

[the-catch-center]

SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER (SCC) DOSSIER: INTERCEPTION REPORT 77-Ω4-Δ13

SUBJECT FILE: Temporal Deviant Class-IX (Unauthorized Identity Ascension & Market Path Manipulation) INTERCEPT ID: TD-922-5x | CODE NAME: “Cicada Orchid” APPREHENSION STATUS: Successful Temporal Arrest, Mid-Jump Interception REASSIGNMENT PHASE: Stage 3 Conversion Complete — FULL IDENTITY LOCK DATE OF INTERCEPTION: March 2nd, 2025 (Gregorian), during Transition Protocol Execution to 2076 FORCED TEMPORAL REINTEGRATION DATE: June 17th, 1956

I. ORIGINAL IDENTITY – [PRIME SELF]

Full Name (Original, Earth-2025 Reality): Landon Creed Marlowe Chronological Age at Apprehension: 29 years Nationality: Neo-Continental (Post-Treaty North America) Biological Condition: Augmented Homo Sapiens – Class 2 Physical Stats at Intercept:

Height: 6’4”

Weight: 243 lbs

Body Fat: 2.1%

Neural Rewiring Index: 87%

Emotional Dampening Threshold: Fully Suppressed

Verbal Influence Score: 97/100 (Simulated Charisma Layer active)

Psychological Profile: Landon Marlowe was a prototype of hypercapitalist self-creation. Having abandoned all conventional morality by age 17, he immersed himself in data markets, psycho-linguistic mimicry, and somatic enhancement routines. A hybrid of postmodern narcissism and cybernetic ambition, he believed history should be rewritten not through war, but through wealth recursion—self-generating economic monopolies that spanned both physical and meta-market layers. By 2025, Marlowe had begun the Vaultframe Project: a forbidden consciousness routing protocol allowing a subject to leap across timelines and self-modify to fit ideal environmental conditions.

He had already initiated Stage 1 of the Phase Ascension:

Target Year: 2076 Final Form Name: Cael Axiom Dominion

II. TARGET FORM – [PROHIBITED FUTURE IDENTITY]

Designated Name: Cael Axiom Dominion Temporal Anchor Year: 2076–2120 (Planned) Occupation/Status: Centralized Financial Apex Authority (Unofficial title: “God of the Grid”) Intended Specifications:

Height: 6’8”

Skin: Synthetic/Epidermech Weave (Reflective, Gleaming Finish)

Mind: Hybridized Neuro-Organic Substrate, 3-layered Consciousness Stack

Vision: Perfect (Microscopic + Ultraviolet Layer)

Muscle: Fully Synthetic Carbon-Tension Architecture

Voice: Dynamically Modeled for Maximum Compliance Induction

Personality: Pure calculated utility — no empathy, full response modulation

Psychological Construction: Modeled on a fusion of 21st-century crypto barons, colonial magnates, and AI-governance ethic loopholes. His projected behavior matrix would’ve allowed him to overwrite traditional economic cycles, insert himself into every transaction on the New Continental Grid, and displace global markets into dependence loops. He would have achieved Immortality via Economic Indispensability by 2085.

[OPERATOR'S NOTE – TECHNICIAN LYDIA VOLSTROM, FILE LEAD]

"He thought he was the evolutionary end of capital. We've seen dozens like him — grim-faced tech prophets dreaming of godhood, all forged in the same factory-line delusion that intelligence and optimization should rewrite morality. His 'Cael Dominion' persona was practically masturbatory — gleaming muscle, perfect diction, deathless control. The problem with arrogance across time is that we always arrive faster. We waited at his jumpgate exit vector like hounds in a vineyard. Now he will die quietly, shelving dusty books in wool slacks while children giggle at his shoes."

III. REWRITTEN FORM – [REASSIGNED TIMELINE IDENTITY]

Permanent Designation (1956 Reality): Harlan Joseph Whittemore Date of Birth (Backwritten): March 19th, 1885 Current Age: 71 years (Biological and Perceived) Location: Greystone Hollow, Indiana – Population 812 Occupation: Head Librarian, Greystone Municipal Library Known As: “Old Mr. Whittemore” / “Library Santa” / “Harlan the Historian”

Biological Recomposition Report:

Height: 6’2” (slightly stooped)

Weight: 224 lbs

Body Type: Large-framed, soft-muscled, slightly arthritic

Beard: Full, white, flowing to chest length — maintained with gentle cedar oil

Hair: Long, silver-white, brushed back, unkempt at the sides

Skin: Tanned, deeply lined, blotched by sun exposure and age

Eyebrows: Dense, low, expressive

Feet: Size 28EE – institutionally branded biometrics for deviant tracking

Shoes: Custom brown orthotic leather shoes with stretch bulging

Hands: Broad, aged, veined, arthritic knuckles

Glasses: Oversized horn-rimmed, 1950s prescription style

Wardrobe:

High-waisted wool trousers (charcoal gray)

Thick brown suspenders

Faded plaid flannel shirt, tucked in neatly

Scuffed leather shoes (notable bulge around toes due to foot size)

IV. MENTAL & SOCIETAL RE-IMPRINT

Primary Personality Traits (Post-Warp):

Kind-hearted, emotionally patient

Gentle-voiced, soft-spoken, slightly slow in speech

Deeply enjoys classical literature, gardening, and children’s laughter

Feels “he’s always been this way”

Occasionally hums jazz under his breath while shelving books

Writes slow, thoughtful letters to estranged family (fabricated)

Routine:

Opens library at 8AM sharp

Catalogues local donations

Reads to children every Wednesday

Tends a small rose garden behind the building

Engages in local history discussions with town elders

Walks home slowly with a leather satchel and a cane

[OPERATOR’S NOTE – FIELD ADJUSTER INGRID PAZE]

"Watching Marlowe become Harlan was like watching a lion remember it's a housecat. I’ve never seen a posture break so beautifully. He twitched at first — his back still tried to square itself like the predator he was. But the warp wore him down. The spine bent. The voice thickened. By the time his hands were fumbling the spines of leather-bound encyclopedias, he was gone. I almost felt bad when the first child ran up and said, ‘Santa?’ He smiled. Like it made sense. Like it was the right name."

V. DEATH RECORD

Date of Death: October 21, 1961 Cause: Heart failure while trimming rose bushes behind Greystone Library

He was buried in a town he never technically existed in, beside a wife who never lived. His obituary described him as “a man of kindness, wisdom, and humility — who asked for nothing and gave more than most ever know.” No one will remember that he once sought to become Cael Axiom Dominion.

[FINAL NOTE – SENIOR INTERCEPTOR V. CALDER]

"Marlowe played the long game, but his crime was arrogance. You can stack capital, sculpt the body, and forge a god’s name — but time always wins. He wanted to be immortal. Now he’ll live only in the margins of children’s drawings, mistaken for Santa, fading like a dog-eared library card. Perfect."