#Coding & Marking Market

[marsixm]

i schwear to god ur not gonna find someone who enjoys working in the grocery store against their better judgement more than me, i am so fucking autistic about this job and everyone knows how good i am at it all, but nothing kills it like the dumb corporate overlord bs. the work can be grueling, the customers can be horrific, but i have got to serve- even the irritating mystery shopper score can be coped with- but when you start picking on me about the stupidest dress code shit that’s when you lose me. like now a new manager is saying they may force us all to wear those chunky nonslip shoes within the year. i have a pair but man they hurt my fucking feet. i cant do that shit every day thats why i wear converse. i said these are nonslip man they used to play basketball in these. he said “lets spill oil on the floor and see how you do” ok girl yes! try me!

[bommagoni]

Coding and Marking Systems Market Size and Growth Report 2030

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ smooth operator

pairing: bangchan x f!reader

genre: one-shot, office au, smut

word count: 7,1K

warnings: dom!bangchan and sub!reader ⋆ exhibitionism!⋆ choking! ⋆ ass!slapping⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ marking! ⋆ cum!eating ⋆ possessiveness ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ angry!sex⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: you always get what you want, with a single look, a wave of your hand, dripping with confidence that made him tremble the first time you two met, he watched you quietly from afar, admiring the perfection that you are, but it soon turned into obsession and oh, how he hated how much you got into his head…

request by @khandzilla

main masterlist

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Many things had happened to Chris since he moved, away from all of his past and finally reaching for the future. He discovered many different things that he had never thought about before, trying every new thing and place the city of Los Angels had to offer. They shone at him with brightness, called out to him, even though the tiring and sometimes boring main reason he had taken this step slowed down his new experiences. The best thing was that he had time — plenty of time for himself to grow and learn. The job that gave him this opportunity was honest with him — it will be hard to maintain his position, but all of the hard work paid off in the end. However, he thought that doing all those business meetings, marketing and all the paperwork would be the hardest part…definitely not maintaining his composure.

Chris has done a lot of new things since his first day at work, met new people and made contacts. He could still remember how nervous he was on the first day, but everyone surprised him by being so kind and it was almost unusual at such a hectic workplace. Every day was different for him, if he doesn’t count those awfully long papers and files he had to fill out every day. It was, because of the people that he now can call friends. Minho, despite his first impression of him told him that he wasn’t very friendly, immediately took him under his wing. He showed him everything, what to do and what not do and even introduced him to his other colleagues. Seungmin, a brunette, quite similar to him in a sense that he always made fun of his age just like Minho, even if he wasn’t that much older than them and then Chris soon found himself in a pile of many different faces.

But one thing remained the same and that was you. The first time he saw — felt your presence was when he was a week into his new job. You screamed, your aura cutting through the office as you quickly walked pass him. You were so quick in your heels that he didn’t even have a chance to get a full look at you. Though someone was quick enough to catch his stare — Minho, who was sitting across of him spoke your name and that made the others glance at him. It was like the sound of your name was a secret code, because everyone suddenly turned their heads to catch just a glimpse of your distancing figure. He felt his ears turn red at being caught, but soon after the others became aware of your presence, he realized that he wasn’t the only one simply astonished by you.

He learned from the looks of his colleagues and then awfully interesting gossip that you rarely left your office. Seeing you walk passed them always broke into something — you were the main topic of gossip. Everyone seemed to know everything about you, yet you didn’t talked to anyone if it wasn’t necessary. You were always quick, never leaving your sanctuary if it weren’t for a meeting or a coffee. Aubrey, a dark haired woman which seemed to be the leader of your small ‘fan club’ said that it was like you were almost disgusted by them as if you felt, you were above them. Soon his female colleagues’ chatting turned bitter as they all turned to him, while Minho and Seungmin silently listened. Chris knew that it wasn’t right to talk about someone — about what they were wearing, how they were behaving in a such place and when you not know them, but he kept his mouth shut to get every information.

Chris doesn’t know if it was because he literally became awestruck by your presence from the moment he saw you, but he soon started to see more of you. You seemed to be always in some a corner, alone, but he always found you. You always sat at the corner of the room next to a window, when it was lunchtime. You always made your coffee with just a splash of milk and just a small pump of vanilla. You seemingly should blend into the background as you were always in dark clothes, but your whole aura radiating from you couldn’t make you invisible.

He remembered the one time, when he was sitting behind his desk, looking at the back of your head, tracing your figure clad in loose trousers and blouse, just waiting for you to turn around. Maybe to notice him, maybe to let him finally see your face behind your blowout hair. He should have concentrated on his work or maybe on the voice of his female colleague talking his ear and that really started to cut through his fixation. He didn’t even see your face and it was getting to him. His coworkers voice was awfully low and sweet and he knew she was trying to get his attention, but it was no use.

He watched your pretty manicured fingers go to your cup of coffee, metal reflecting in the light as you never used those cheep, plastic cups like everyone else — well, you definitely weren’t like anyone he had ever met before. You turned just slightly to the side, lips puckering, when you glanced into the hallway leading to your office, finger making a come here motion. He could tell you were frustrated, your frown that he didn’t see much of deepening, when Minho suddenly emerged from the hallway.

Chris straightened his back and at that the annoying sound of his colleague became quiet. He ignored it, noting Minho’s small twitch and fidgeting, when you push a pile of papers into his direction. He couldn’t hear anything over the noises of mouses and keyboards clicking, but he could feel the shift in the air. His friend had a look of small fright, when you started to move your lips slowly, but words seemingly laced with a hard tone. He at that wondered how much strict you you actually were, maybe some of the gossip turned into a fact. Minho shook his head wildly after you were done speaking, not even trying to cut into your speech like he does with everyone. You tilted your head at his words, letting the papers be pushed back to you. His friend then pointed right into his direction, like a child trying to escape his punishment and you instantly turned to look at him.

His mouth opened, gaped at your features — soft, yet sharp with the look you gave him under your glasses. Chris felt his heart stop when you turned fully into his direction, before marching through the room right to his desk. From the corner of his eye he could see everyone turning their heads, hear the sudden stop of the even sounds of keyboards, but he couldn’t do anything else, but look at you. Your body — so nice, tight and soft in the right places, eyes trailing over your blouse that clinged to your breast, your lips painted deeper brown, your eyeshadow sharpening your stare.

The sound of your shoes made his heart beat faster with each stomp, before they scraped on the floor, when you stopped right before his desk. “Chris, is it?” Your glare didn’t match your slow and low tone, not even your comfortable stance, but from the looks of his colleagues, he could tell that you actually were not pleased at all. Why, he didn’t know yet at that moment, still to occupied by looking your over and also trying to keep his cool, because the way you said his name was…arousing.

Chris just knew he looked stupid, when his eyes went back and forth between his coworkers and you, it was like he completely forgot his own name. “Yes…” He thinks he has never felt like this since a teacher caught him misbehaving in middle school.

The way you were waiting for him, giving him time to anwer just made him realize how patient you are, even if you looked quite irritated. You then put those papers on his desk, slap! echoing through the room. “Please, take another look at those papers.” You say, voice still collected.

He did what you ask, even if it was quite hard to tear his gaze away from you, but at least he had your perfume filling up his nose. His eyes fell to the file with papers, lips falling even more apart as he scanned through them. They were his, he did them yesterday just an hour before he ended his day and just by a single look he could tell that there was something not right. “Oh!” His fingers stopped at a particular spot, your shadow heavy on his shoulders.

“Yes, correct it–“ He looked up at you at that, already distancing yourself as you were almost shaking to get back to your office. “Give it back to me later, you have time till three.”

With only that you walked away, not letting him ask questions, leaving him to figure out his mistakes himself. The only thing you left was your lingering presence that made few people, other than his friends look at him and he wanted to groan out loud. ‘What a way to make nice, first impression’, he thought to himself. He literally made a fool of himself. The first words, the first thing he did to get your attention was his idiocy. The hand that landed on his shoulder was supposed to be calming, but Seungmin only made him feel more humiliated. It also didn’t help that the others immediately started to get to the talk and he didn’t hear anything other than their awful gossip.

“Did you see that? Poor you, Channie-“

“How can she talk to us like that?”

“Did you see her clothes? She’s literally screaming for attention!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, just do what she wants, so she can get off your back–“

Chris was disgusted. You weren’t bitchy or moody, you were collected and he knew just what your position requires. He couldn’t help, but feel intimidated — it was a natural response to you. How could they talk to you like that? Making gossip and hate out of anything you do, Chris is glad for his two friends at the moment as they shut down their conversation. One thing is being humiliated by making a mistake infornt of a woman like you and then others just adding up to it. It was his fault, you only told him to fix it, nothing more. There was no need for them to talk about you so harshly.

Chris returned the papers just in time that day, but he was not quick enough to catch up with you as your office was already closed. It was also the first time he was in that part of the building, only passing by it to get to the elevators. He stared for a moment at your name and your title at the milky, glass door and he probably stood there for a quite while as your assistant walked up to him. He can’t lie that he was disappointed by your assistant telling him to just give those papers to him as you were at a meeting.

Though after that he got just a few more occurrences with you. The most memorable one was when you joined him at the coffee machine. He can still remember your pencil skirt and matching suit jacket, red lips, black stockings with a line going down the back of your legs and mostly your pretty glasses framing your face as you looked for your vanilla sirup. He had to fight the argue to a smirk, when he without a word lean over your cup to pump the hidden sirup in his hands into your coffee. You almost seemed surprised by his presence, like you didn’t even know he was right next you or maybe it was simply because of his sudden deep eye contact. He didn’t even blink, while looking at you, not even when you said a small sweet ‘thank you’. That simple moment grew into something big, when you leaned over him to to grab a plastic cup to put it in the coffee machine, before pressing his preferred choice of drink. It wasn’t sweet anymore after that, it was more nerveracking, because the fact you knew told him everything — you were watching too and he started to like you more and more, before it started to change.

Soon he started to hate you. He hated how you were in the every corner of his mind. He was thinking about you since the first day he saw you — at work, even home, mainly late at night in the privacy of his bedroom. He hated how you saw him firstly like everyone else, how he felt like everyone else — how he was firstly scared of you. Even if he talked to you briefly, got to know your small habits — how you always clicked your nails together, how you hold the side of your glasses with your index finger, your chewing at the inside of your lips, your small minimal pull at your eyebrows when someone talked to you. The conversation were always about work, you never talked outside of it and he soon realized how much you are into your work. You are a total workaholic or maybe you just didn’t like someone sticking their nose into your business.

But it felt like it was his too, because how possibly can you be able to mess him up like this? You weren’t even doing anything to rile him up and he must wonder if those subtle looks, gestures where really nothing or if you were just playing with him. He wanted to figure you out and it is driving him insane, because he feels like he is turning into one of them…though they certainly aren’t thinking of putting you into your place — right under him or maybe he would even let you be on top of him, just like you were used to.

Chris has to groan into his hands, back muscles screaming at the pressure they were put through the whole day. He really does sometimes breathe in relief when he goes to work out, because sitting hours behind a desk feels like a form of torture. It’s so quiet — it’s so weird not hearing even a whisper. The office would look eery, if it weren’t for the city lights shinning through the glass windows. He swears, he can even hear cars from the silence in the room. The lamp at his desk is burning his eyes, glancing for the last time over his work and he wants to scream in delight as he finally could pack his things up and go home.

Today was unusually stressful for him, so much of everything that he had no choice, but to stay late. He could have done it on Monday, but the thought of not finishing something wouldn’t make his weekend better, not to mention how overly hectic it would be if he would leave it to Monday. From the sitting and the turned down air conditioning his skin glisten in the thin layer of sweat, pulling just slightly at his white shirt to unstick it from his stomach. He didn’t even care about how he basically throw his things into his bag, too lazy to actually take time and put everything where it belongs.

The click of his polished shoes is the only sound in the building as he walks down the hallway, trying to untie the nots in his upper back. Though silence should be thing quite familiar to him in sense as he walks pass your office, only for his own body to stop in its tracks. A frown falls on upon his face, looking down at the carpet under his feet. Light is coming from behind your door, the warm orange hue cutting through the moonlight floor. Chris firstly thought that you might just accidentally let your lamp on, but that wouldn’t make any sense — he is the only one here…

Curiosity gets the best of him, not even thinking twice and wrapping his hand around the door handle. In a sense he feels like he is doing something he shouldn’t as the door creaks open, letting him barely have a look in the room and sure enough he at that hears sound of a keyboard’s clicking. His heart beats s little faster, thinking of way too many different things that could be happening behind the door and he literally haven’t open it yet. To his surprise it was a way simpler answer — way more exciting…

You — you were here with him, at this late hour at a place you both know so well. He knew, after some small and innocent spying that you clocked out just an hour before him as you always get here in the early hours of morning — so seeing you behind your desk with a laptop illuminating your face was a surprise. “What are you doing here?” And you were definitely surprised too.

You jump in your seat at the unexpected voice, eyes widening just slightly as you snap your head into the direction of the door. He can see the genuine expression of surprise for a split second, before it all falls back to your natural, cold one. “I could ask you the same thing.” You wit back, taking a one, long look at him from your desk — his misbehaved hair, opened shirt that clinged to his toned body, how he leaned casually on the doorway, before you turn back to your work.

Chris tilts his head at you, listening to your nails grazing over the keyboard. “It’s almost one a.m–“ He, just like you doesn’t answer your question as it wasn’t that much important at the moment, not when you were looking like that — you always looked put together, not single wrinkle on your clothes or a smudge in your make up, but he can see the small effects of your equally hard day on you.

Your glasses that were usually on the low point of your nose sit in the small pocket on your blouse, his eyes naturally drifting to the exposed skin of your breasts. Your outfits were always modest, yet so provocative. Your lipstick appeared lighter than before, but he knew it was dark red as he saw you pass by his desk today. So quick, but not quick enough to not be caught by his eyes. His knuckles turn white at the sight of your open top, body swaying, ready to take a step close just to try and see what you might ne hiding underneath. Chris doesn’t even care about how unprofessional he is being, the only thing he cares about is seeing if you were thinking the same thing — well, you certainly weren’t telling him to leave.

“I know.” You say, not even looking at him, seemingly very into the piece of paper in front of you and he can see your fingers nibbling at its edge.

“Aren’t you tired?” He says, genuinely wondering.

“No.”

“Can I get you a coffee?” Chris fires question after question, just to hear your sultry voice, frustrated from the lack of attention.

You don’t answer this time to his displeasure, only holding up your cup to let him see there was no need for him. But he needs it — you, how can he not grab this opportunity to finally talk to you, fully get drunk off your presence alone. You don’t do anything to indicate that he is not invited, so he slowly makes his way up to you. His eyes not even for a second leave you, grasping greedily at every new angle he gets. You look frustrated — the twitch in your eyebrows is prominent and he wants nothing more than to turn it into something way different.

You are aware of his looming body behind you and you know about that hand gripping the back of your chair, though you do nothing against it. Your fingers no longer move on the keyboard, the pen in your hand hovering over the paper before you. You just stare at it, realizing you might be getting distracted. “That’s tomorrow’s work.” His breath hits the back of your head, making you fight back goosebumps.

“Yes, that’s why I’m doing it…”

You remark was supposed to be witty, but the small strain in your voice won over. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself…Y/N.” Chris sighs out your name, hand gripping tightly the back of your chair, doing anything in his power not to just turn you around, so you can see everything what you did and are still doing to him.

He can hear you click your tongue, head just barely turning his way. “I didn’t know we are casual like that…Christopher.” You say.

His eyes narrowed from your words and tone. Is this really not casual? The thick tension in the room, the shared looks…Chris suddenly becomes angered, mostly frustrated from your behavior. His nose flares to exhale a deep sigh, before taking in the sweet smell of your perfume. By that action his body naturally needed to get closer to you to get a real and good whiff of your scent. He hovers over you, caging you in — and was that a small gasp and shake as a reaction to his bold move? “You are so tense…” He can’t fight the satisfied smile from your reaction. Even if it would be unseen by others, his fixation on you literally gave him the power to crack open every single small twitch in you, reading you like a book. “Do you need me to take it away?” He whispers, hot breath hitting you.

There’s a pause, your lips falling apart. “What are applying exactly?” You are incredibly still and collected, even if he is able to see under your thick shell.

He shrugged at your question, smile not leaving his lips and he knows you can hear it in his next words. “Just a massage…” He says so innocently.

He can’t see the obvious frown on your face. “Get on with it then.” You say, your voice uncharacteristically quiet, though your tone sharp. The small laugh in his chest couldn’t be contained by your reaction. His hands loosen around the back of your chair, face falling as he lifts his finger to just barely push your hair away from your neck.

The light scratch of his nails leaves traces of fire, tickling and making a rush of a new emotion go through your whole body. You are quiet, staring at the closed doors to your office, while you let the man behind you touch you. Chris is so slow with his every move, it’s like he is doing it on purpose — maybe to see a glimpse of frustration on your face, but who are you to give him such pleasure? His hands are big, fingers long and when he puts them on your shoulders they almost dip under your slightly open blouse.

You both at that realize the difference between your body temperatures — his hands were hot and they came with even more burning, when he pressed into your shoulders, your body was cold and you realize that it might be because you haven’t felt this much burning for anyone before. He — he has to know by the way your body is so tense under his hands that it’s been a quite long time since you last felt the touch of another. Your work, your passion and need for perfection suddenly felt like a immense weight on your shoulders that he messaged all away with just few squeezes. However your pride didn’t shift…you are not sure if you want to give him the satisfaction and let him see the true effect he has on you. Or do you? One thing that you truly want is to see him tremble, just like on the day you two first met — so flustered, almost scared just by your existence.

Chris breathe so heavily, you for sure have to feel his silent sighs on your skin. The material of your blouse is so thin, that he scrunches it up between his fingers at thought of tracing his fingers across your naked skin. His thumb makes circles on the strap of your bra, the other already falling off your shoulder and he eyes it with a heated glare. “Nice?” He has to wonder, because you didn’t even breathe throughout his moves. He hates, how he seeks your approval.

Heat rushes to his chest, when you let out a quiet, yet soft and long hum of pleasure. The sound makes him press down onto you just a little harder and Chris almost loses his mind right there, when you only sigh again. “Yeah–“ His eyes roll back into his head at your voice, his hips embarrassingly pressing onto the back of your hair. He sighs deeply, heart jumping when you tilt your head to look up at him. “Maybe a little lower?” Your voice is breathless, sweet like honey, but your piercing eyes surely don’t match it. The top of your head is brushing his stomach, your moves, making you push out your chest and his eyes follow immediately your movements and words. His body is stiff other than his hands that keep squeezing at you and they eagerly go lower by your request, pressing down onto your collarbones. “Lower…,yeah — right there.”

Your words dangerously end in what sounded like a moan and Chris licks his lips at the sight of the black lace peaking out of your shirt. “You like that?” His fingers dip into the middle of your breasts, watching your head roll back onto your shoulder, sighing with you at his touch. “Or do you want me to go a little lower?”

The smirk on his lips is obvious and you can’t help, but do the same, enjoying the way his hands pinch at the softness of your breasts, before suddenly pushing yourself from the chair. Your move is so unexpected and quick that he stumbles, the smile of satisfaction falling from his face, but you don’t see the change of expression. “I fear, I have to go now, Mr. Bahng.” Again with your sweet voice that really started to taste bitter as he watches you move across your desk — he had enough.

A hand wraps around your wrist tightly. “No, you are fucking not.” He says, through gritted teeth and you remark gets stuck in the back of your throat, when he roughly turns you around, pinning you to the table and you only become more short of breath, when his hand falls on your neck, fingers pressing ever so slightly into your pulse.

You can’t breathe properly, just like him, staring into each other eyes and you finally see how much darker they have become. You broke him — you and your tactics. He is sick of your playing, not caring about how so suddenly and so sharply he snapped at you, but the look on your face…it seems like you are enjoying this. His fingers wrapped around your dianty neck, your upper half basically exposed to his hungry eyes and then his gaze fall on your lips, smudged in a hue of red — he just had to take a bite.

His lips smash to yours and even in his delirious state, he saw how you leaned into his hold — you wanted this too, him. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, teeth, till he tastes the bitter taste of coffee and the sweetness you naturally had in you. It is so much and so good, but you still fight lightly to gain dominance against the kiss, though you can’t keep up, something possessed him at that moment and with the first taste of your lips, he couldn’t stop.

Your noses brush against each other, breathing heavily, not even separating for a split second, till you of course had to say something. “I think this is highly unprofessional–“ You say your every word between each kiss, his fingers pressing a little harder around your neck at your statement.

Chris pulls away from you, eyes glaring down at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Do I look like I fucking care?” His tone sends shivers down your spine, him not seeing it, because he leaned over your body to press his lips next your ear. “You are insufferable, I fucking hate you.” His hot breath hits your ears, feeling his tongue graze your earlobe.

A wide smile finds your lips, breathing out heavily. “We both know, that you don’t hate me.” You shake your head lightly at him and it makes him look back at you, his hard stare not matching your overly sweet smile.

“I’m gonna fuck you like I do.”

For the first time your confidence trembles, smile falling a little at the deep rasp in his voice and now he is the one finding some amusement about this situation. You always act so tough…it’s funny to him that you try his patience even now — now when he has you under him, now when his hand is around your neck, now when his other hand travels up your thigh to your center. The heat radiating from you tells him everything he needs to know. His hand finds the sliver of naked skin, when his fingers graze your garter belt, for a moment enjoying the softness of your inner thighs. His eyes however don’t leave your face as your eyes close slightly, silently sighing at his gentleness, before his next move makes you gasp sharply.

His whole hand cups your covered pussy, your juices smearing all over him and by your reaction your leg just barely grazes his crotch, moaning lightly at the feeling. “What got you so wet, huh?” Your lips are sealed for a moment, while his ring and middle finger finds your clit, pressing down on it, yet not moving. “No smart remark? Really is it that easy?”

“Are you going to fuck me or you just not gonna finish your job like always?” You hiss at him, hips pushing against his fingers to find more friction, but to your displeasure, his touch leaves you completely, removing his hand from your skirt and even the hand on your neck leaves you.

Your heart skips a beat for a second, not from fright, but from excitement, ready to see more of this new side of him. Chris isn’t moved by your words, too occupied by pressing his lips to your neck. He licks over your skin, tasting your perfume, before he traps the thin skin of your neck between his teeth. The sharpness is painful for a second, before it melts into pleasure as he sucks and slurps at you. The raw moan you give him makes him groan in union, moving his mouth to the spot under your ear, sucking just as harshly, before he moves to the other side of your neck, your collarbone, the soft skin of your upper breast…He drools over you, bites down on you and he feels a sense of possessiveness grow in him as he finally pulls away to take a good look at your current state.

Your mouth is open, lips glistening from your own spit, eyes following the trail of bites and splotches he left on you and you now by the subtle burn, that he even felt an small imprint of his fingers on your neck. His thumb presses down on one particular spot — right over your heart. “So pretty, look at you, covered in me…” Chris is biting on his lip, chewing, like reminiscing, before meeting your half lidded eyes.

“You…” You are so quiet, lost for words and he feels his cock jump at your drunken state.

“You…” He repeats, but his version helds a almost sick longing. He shakes his head, almost like you would, before straightening his back to completely surround you with his whole body. “Bend over.” Chris’s sudden dominance makes you shaky, he can see the effect by your wildly raising chest and even though you still have some grip on your composure, he feels sense of pride seeing you like this. All because of him — you turn around slowly, too slowly for him, that he had to push you against your desk, palm of his hand on your lower back.

He moves your hair away from your shoulder, mouthing at your already marked up neck, while his hands roam wildly all over your body. They drift under your blouse, his moves so rough that couple of the buttons pop open letting him fondle your tits freely. You let yourself go a little, moaning at his touches. He is everywhere — touching you as if it would be the last time he’d ever have you like this. “I hate you–“ He repeats the words between each suck, you hissing at his teeth piercing your skin a little too deeply.

Chris hums, hips grinding against your ass and you both gasp at the sensation. You can’t help it — maybe it’s because you just enjoy being like this or you want him to finally break. You don’t even know what he might do to you, but that only excites you more. “Ah — is this all because of me?” You coo at him, hand pushing his head away from your neck to look at him. The expression you get from him is worth it, rolling your hips against his.

A hiss of pain leaves you, when his hand finds your hair, tugging your head back. “Every fucking day — every single fucking day…you enjoy making people feel like they are under you, like you are some kind of higher power.” The poison in his voice is light more than anything, it’s just pure lust, but it does make you stop fidgeting. “But who are you outside of this building? Huh, Y/N?” You don’t respond, eyes widening, mouth opening and you feel small pool of drool gathering in the corner of your mouth. When his hand finds your skirt again, scrunching the material and pushing it up your hips, you just realize how much you were pressing your thighs together to make the ache in your cunt go away. “I think you are just a woman, who never let anyone put her in her place.” Chris breathes out a laugh at your face, while he finally release himself from his pants and underwear. The sound you let out next send sparks straight to his cock, his tip at the seem of your underwear. Finally he has your full attention, eyes unmoving from his face and when his fingers push your underwear to the side he has to shiver from how much you are dripping all over him, because of him. His hand comes to your jaw, with the other leveling his cock to your entrance. “You are controlling — and even if you are fantastic in what you do, don’t you think you also need some kind of teaching?”

Your mind is fuzzy, staring at him as he pushes his hips into you and the sheer size of his mushroom tip makes your legs shake. Your body, face, wet and dripping cunt tells him everything to know not to stop his moves. “Fuck–“ The curse flies out of your mouth, when he bottoms out, kissing your cervix and the foreign word leaving your lips makes him groan. You hug him so well, tight, letting him know just how much you needed this. He doesn’t want to be gentle, not after all of your theatrics and teasing — not with the already fucked out look on your face.

The drag of his cock is delicious, filthy and you both can hear the sounds of your juices smearing across the both of you. Your knuckles turn white, gripping tightly at the edge of your desk with the first thrust of his hips. It makes you only arch more for him, air getting knocked out of you, when he starts to fuck into you so roughly, you only could fall forward and let him do whatever he wants. Chris’s lips are parted, tongue swiping across his teeth, eyes going to the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole. In the night lights he can see your glistening, creamy wetness on his cock, his hand pinching at your ass, mesmerized by you.

The way your hips try so desperately to match his erratic rhythm makes his chest tighten. “Yeah…yeah—“ He doesn’t know what to say for a moment as he meets your eye, when look back at him. He sees the small tears of pleasure in your gaze and something about the way you send him a small smile his way, makes him push you against his chest. “So good…so pretty.” You hum lowly at his words, looking at his face, breathing shakily from his thrusts. “It would be a pity to have you all to myself like this.”

Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting in confusion, but your face forms into shock, when he suddenly lifts you off your feet. Chris is swift, not letting you even think about, what he might do with you — no he shows you instead. He turns you both around, stumbling a little, before pushing you against the cold window of your office. “Chris–“ A gasp of his name leaves you, eyes wide and staring at the scenery under you, going over the high buildings next you and each light up window.

“Oh, know it’s Chris?” He knows the risk of someone seeing you like this, even if the possibility of someone seeing you so high up and quite far away is small, it still makes a rush of excitement go over you. Your cunt tightens around him and he finds it hard to maintain his sanity, with you gripping his so tightly.

Your breath fogs up the window, when he starts to move again, thighs press together and making him feel even bigger than he already is. You don’t think anyone ever handled you like this before — hand bruising on your hip, the other holding you against the window, fucking you so roughly and just like he said — putting you in your place. Your ears ring, already lost from the feeling of his cock ramming into you, each pulsing vein making your insides shake. “Chris…” He groans back at the sound of his name, head landing on the window next to yours to catch your gaze.

The coldness from the window on your chest and the warmness from his touch is all too much for you to handle. He can tell by the look in your eyes, closing each second that he bottoms out. “You feel so good–“ Chris finishes his words with a harsh smack on your asscheek and you only push against him more, so he only does it again. “You like that?” You can already feel the skin of your ass turning red and the burn left behind is way too good for you to not nod at his question.

“I c-can’t—“ You gasp, whimper, pushing your forehead against the window, but he doesn’t let you hide.

His hand finds your neck again, pulling you up to make you look back at him, hard chest on pressed on your back. “You can, baby, I know you can.” Chris is enjoying the way you turned so small, seeing finally the girl that always needed to do good. “Give it to me — cum for me.” You cry out at his words, lower tummy rumbling at his words, staring through blurry sight at the crazed look on his face.

You lean to kiss him, more tongue than lips, moaning and gasping into his mouth. He tightens the hand on your neck, cutting the air in your throat. Your ears ring, but you can still hear the smack of his hips and filthy words coming from his lips. You couldn’t hold it no more, the last bits of your pride-self thrown out of the window you were pressed against as he finds the one, squishy, soft spot inside you. Chris is too good at analyzing you now, because his thrusts only become more sharper, shorter and harsher, the tip of his cock brushing against the spot every time he bottoms out, till your eyes roll back inside your head.

Your orgasm make your whole body shake, the only thing not letting you slide down the now sleek window is his strong hold. The faces and noises you make are way better than his imagination. Your walls spasm around him, sucking him in, making his hips shutter, pushing only harder into you. He pulls you so close to his body that you feel his heart beating against your back, his hips stilling, thrusting up into you roughly and it almost makes you squeal. The deep growl he lets out, makes his chest rumble, nose digging into your hair as his cock twitches. You can feel him filling you to the brim, your mixed juices already making a creamy ring around the base of his cock. It’s so hot, filthy, marking you in the most intimate way possible, but the blissful fullness is ripped away from you, when he pulls out his still hard cock from your puffy pussy.

You want to turn around, for the second time confused and mostly shocked by his actions, because you see him from the corner of your eye falling down to kneel behind you. The hands on your hips don’t let you move an inch, letting him take a look of your spend cunt, thumbs pulling at your lips to get a closer look at your gaping hole. You would feel embarrassed if it weren’t for his tongue suddenly licking into you, scooping his and your orgasm into his hot mouth. You are at the brink of overstimulation, hair and clothes sticking to your sweaty skin, not even making a sound to stop him from pushing his face into your pussy from behind. His tongue is everywhere, all over you, tip of it flicking your puffy clit, then flattening, just to lick your whole cunt all the way to your rim. The only thing that wakes you up from your state of exhaustion and pleasure all together is him retrieving from you, pressing his chest to your back and to only shove his tongue inside your mouth to make you taste the tanginess of your mixed pleasures.

You both got exactly what you wanted — though neither of you is sure, when it will be enough.

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Indonesia's Thriving Tech Scene: A Fusion of Coding and Marketing

The industry development in the nation is mainly propelled by the increasing requirement for coding and marking systems in the food & beverage, building and construction, and vehicle industries. As Indonesia is constantly progressing as Southeast Asia’s major economy, the requirement for tech solutions is on the surge. With a populace of more than 280 million, numerous of them have digital…

[sbcdh]

"You saw it?"

"For a second. Yeah. I saw one."

"Start at the beginning."

"Hoo. Okay. Uhhh... It was 77. I think. I was air force. Or, hypnoengineering support staff contracted to help out around St. Louis."

"That's how you came into your supply of JVH-1"

"It was JVH-11 actually, and yeah, the fuckin, uh- the requisitions officer at Scott was an old buddy of mine. We used to fuck around in college before I, you know-"

"Yes I understand."

"I worked records for Sears-Roebuck, I had all the accounting expertise, as well as a ready supply of LSD."

"How did you start?"

"Oh it was easy at first. Really just selling off phials of the new experimental stuff to finance guys. They'd go nuts for the stuff, pay top dollar for it too. Hell, I could get 100$ for a milliliter. Made it easy to keep my contacts bought in and re-invested. Honestly I don't think the req office would even know that we were skimming if they weren't in on it.

But, you know how it is with hypnoregulation. Transchronological market data is worth it's weight in diamond. It started with the odd photo of a 2q-week readout, then biometric data, then, uh- then. Well, we decided to try it ourselves."

"You attempted full sub-finantial emmanation?"

"No no god no, what're you nuts? No, see. We figured if one person can meld their brain with the market, we just had to get as close as we could to that guy, and mark the twain, hypnologically speaking."

"Mark the twain?"

"Yeah, see, okay. A plutophant in full emmanation isn't like us. We exist at a single point in time, an R1 rational market actor. But they exist in multiple points in time, back in 77, I think the government could hit R6 with that analogue tech. Most people can hit R2 with a single hit of JVH-1, with practice you can hit R3, but anything higher than R3 takes a pretty serious support team. But here's the thing, I had a whole cadre of co-implicated members of a military grade hypnoengineering support team. All we needed was the space."

"The warehouse. Schaeffer Marble and Tile was it?"

"Bingo. See here's the thing. You know why the government had to start building those special regulation temples? It's not just for security. Once you crack the R6 barrier, Plutophants start leaving what's called a wake. You know, like a fuckin, uh, like a boat. They're imperceptible to normal people, but if you have sensitive enough instruments or, say, a person in the edge of sub-market emmanation.

See the government didn't know at the time, but if you balanced the drugs just right, and kept someone right on the edge of R4, you could actually read the plutophant's interpretations by their wake rather than their direct neurofeedback. It's not nearly as precise, but if you have a good team and you know what to look for, you can get some really, really valuable market data that way."

"And your co-worker?"

"You mean Mills? Fuck. Yeah...Mills. Right."

"Take your time."

"No, no I'm good. It's... It's uh, It's dangerous. Brains aren't meant to take that much JVH-11 all at once. We could stay on R4, but what we didn't have was a recovery team, or a medical team, or recon team. It was me, Mills, Israel, Connaught, and Marsh. The five of us were the only ones in the soup. Bruso was running the machines and Lasker was monitoring the readout."

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"Yeah. Yeah. It was a normal intrusion. Hypnogrid emmanation is pretty simple with our tech and support. Sedation was all green, hypnoinduction was green. Smooth as silk. Landed about 40 minutes from our work location. We had the codes from the IRSAW people that morning, all we had to do was maintain hypnoinduction for 40 minutes while traversing the colon and we'd be able to-"

"I'm sorry, colon?"

"Oh come on. Colon. Collective Unconscious. Col-Un. Colon."

"I- of course. Continue."

"Hey, have you ever been on a dive before?"

"Can we focus on your statement?"

"It's important. I need to know if this next bit is gonna make sense to you or not."

"I've undergone basic anti-intrusion training standard for IRS investigation task force officers."

"So you've done safe dives. White room? Castle training? Putting up the wall? All that jazz?"

"That's correct."

"Did they ever tell you why it's dangerous to perform off-site hypnoincursion in meta-unstsble hypnospace?"

"They did."

"Well they're lying...don't look at me like that. I'm not bullshitting you. They're lying...there's...there's shit out there okay? There's things out there."

"Mills?"

"Yeah. Mills. Uh..."

"Take your time."

"Yeah yeah. Quit interruptin me. Mills... Uh, yeah so we were T-Plus 30 into the dive. Bruso gives us a heads up that some hypnoflora is headed our way, but can't get a read on mass. Says we should steer clear, but we are so close. Israel had handled some hypnoflora before, so we weren't worried. But it was... I dunno. I can't explain."

"Do your best."

"Like. Okay. Meta-unstsble dives are fucked. They're acid trips. The St. Louis hypnoscape already doesn't look normal, but Scott Base looked like some kinda bastard lovechild of a medieval castle and a seashell, all twisting up into itself. The streets were a chessboard, and all the streetlights we're these tall kinda mannequin lookin' things holding a tiny sun in their hand. Everything is fucked, it's all topsy turvy. But it's okay, because it's meta-unstable hypnospace, its not SUPPOSED to be normal. And then there was a Red Sock."

"Like for the feet?"

"No. Like. In the middle of this fucked up dreamscape, there's suddenly a batter for the Boston Red Sox. He's standing there, maybe 50 feet away. He's got a bat in one hand and a mitt in the other, and he's just kinda walking towards us. Nobody really knew what to do. It didn't look dangerous, but something wasn't right. It didn't fit. We just kinda stood there, looking at the thing. Israel starts talking to Bruso, asking him what to do. Suddenly, Bruso is screaming at us, telling us to book it. He's screaming into the com, telling us to prepare for de-emmanation. Nobody knows what's happening. Israel is suddenly standing between Mills and the Red Sock, and..."

"Any information you can recall could be of use."

"It's...it's mostly feeling at this point. You ever been having a normal dream? Like, a good, normal dream? And suddenly you realize that something is really, really wrong? There's signs. For me? It's that the lights go out. Suddenly day turns to night, and something about this batter just makes me want to curl up and hide. Suddenly, moving through the world is like trying to swim through molasses. I try to run, but nothing moves, and everything is dark. The world is shifting. There's shadows under the bathroom door that can't be happening. A man who looks like Jesus. An old and terrible house and an old man with no name whose face I can't remember. The batter swings at Mills and she just...vanishes. Shes gone. Bruso pulls us out a second later."

"So this, batter killed Ms. Mills?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. We get out, she's comatose. Whatever that thing did to her, she was still in hypnospace. I gave her a hot shot of barbiturates. Her brain activity slowed to R0 after about 90 seconds."

[dead-end-draws]

Tribe Banner concept art:

Folks seemed to enjoy my WOF WIPS, so here’s more concept art for y’all! My favorite thing about WOF is the potential for world building. I thought it’d be cool to see a tribe emblem represented on a banner/flag of sorts:

Read below for some of the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywing Banner:

Skywings pride themselves on 3 things; treasure, fire, & their enormous, soaring wingspan which steals the sky.

As such, portrayed on the banner, the fabric (often made with dyed cow or goat leathers) resembles draped dragon wings. Two Skywings embrace a goblet, which is spewing golden fire.

The banner is often held aloft with iron or gold poles, signifying to other tribes their wealth and pride.

Mudwing banner:

These banners are fashioned with leather hides from cow or crocodile skin, held aloft with bamboo, and painted with a Talon-print & Reed crest.

The talonprint symbolizes community and the strength of Mudwing sibling bonds. The reed border unifies all Mudwings regardless of their relationship to home; the swamp. Bigwings are often seen carrying these into battle, signifing their status and making it easier for a sib to locate them in the flurry of a fight.

Sandwing Banner:

Sandwing flags are made with camel skins and dyed cactus leather.

A crest shows a Sandwing coiled around a beaming sun, a reminder that despite the revered 3 moons, Sandwings are born to thrive in sunlight.

The fabric is cut in a way to mimic the swooping dunes of Sandwing territory. And the poles of the flags are equally intricate, with scorpion tails and golden ropes which frame the banner.

These flags make prominent appearances in parades, festivals, and markets, and even miniature version are often displayed in homes or as tapestries/carpets.

Seawing banner:

These banners are often seen displayed in royal quarters or councils, or above land to mark territory.

A nautilus shell crest on front echoes the swirl-pattern associated with royal Seawings: The banner’s borders resemble waves and a dragon swimming beneath their surface.

These are crafted with rich materials, strung with seashells, pearls, silver dollars, and deep oceanic color fabric. There is severe penalty for Seawings found plucking treasure from the banners, as they are a direct symbol of royalty.

Nightwing Banner:

These banners emphasize the Nightwings’ relationship to the moon, their source of power and praise. The material, a contrast of white stitching against purple velvet showcases moonlight and night, black scales against stars, magic and mystery.

They are seen decorated with 3 moons at the top and a centered dragon reaching up into the night sky.

These banners were often used during the war as secret code by spies to deliver to other tribes. Prophecy scrolls often came attached, delivering cryptic messages or secrets in the night. These banners all helped add to the secrecy of the Dragonet Prophecy, and kept tribes on their toes around Nightwings.

Rainwing banner:

Rainwing banners are not used for battle purposes like other tribes, most are mere decoration, location indicators, and have no unified design.

However, It is said back when Rainwings left the rainforest to trade pre-war, this particular banner design was often raised above Rainwing merchant tables, and showcases the coiled tail of a Rainwing with leaves, vines, and other sights from the rainforest adorning a bamboo pole. Bright color combinations accentuated the flag to entice curious customers.

Now, only one tattered version of the original Rainwing banner remains, displayed proudly in Queen Glory’s quarters, a reminder that building the Rainwings’ community is their most important goal.

Icewing Banner:

These banners reflect the same standards Icewings hold themselves to.

Like a visual of the rankings themselves, each banner is cut perfectly from an Icewing’s trained, serrated claws to resemble icicles, and crafted with fine blue stitching.

Flags are often held aloft with perfectly polished narwhal horn or bone, and can be inlaid with sapphires or diamond.

Icewing soldiers are often gifted these during ceremonies, and perform training exercises with the flags to test their stance/attentiveness. The crest showcases the swift sharpness of ice through a flying dragon, and a snowflake toward the bottom reminding Icewings that even minuscule snowflakes, small things, should be perfect in form.

[quillsnink]

When SKZ finds your well-organized Korean notes

A/N : This idea randomly popped up in my head when I was learning my Spanish. Picture credit to the owner. Also this is the first time I've tried writing for all the members together.

• Where each member suddenly stumbles upon your neat and well-organized notes for learning Korean. They knew you were studying but didn't realise you went so far as to maintaining an old diary of 2013 for writing down random notes, swear words, grammar rules, slangs, idioms, vocabulary, tests where you had graded yourself with a red pen with marks like 16/20 or 19/25 and your signature like a school teacher and even some phrases learnt from the boys.

• Chris

He found your Korean diary on a random Tuesday evening while he was searching for his laptop charger. He wondered what on earth were you doing with a 2013 diary when he had gifted you the latest one on New Year's Day. Not one to read someone's diary, but his interest was piqued because of a SKZ bookmark hanging out of the diary. He opens it curiously, flipping through the pages that contained grammar rules, self-graded tests with your signature (which he can't help but giggle at), and even an entire section labelled "what Channie taught me", containing phrases and words he had previously taught you, that he himself had forgotten, which little notes on the side in pencil on how to pronounce stating that "Channie says it like this". He smiles to himself, feeling a surge of warmth as he realizes you're working so hard to understand and connect with him and the group on a deeper level. He chuckles at the part where you had stated that he says a word in a certain tone and he's a little surprised to see how observant you were to how he spoke Korean that you had noticed such little things even he didn't know. He is moved by your dedication and effort. It meant so much to him that you wanted to understand him better and also the rest of the boys.

• Minho

Minho's looking around your room when his eyes fall on a notebook open on your bed, with pages full of neat handwriting. Intrigued, he walks over and begins to look through them, noting how well-organized and thoughtful each section is. The color-coding in different color ink, the little drawings, and the way you’ve broken down each concept and it’s clear you’ve put a lot of effort into learning. He spots a few phrases he's used like "Don't be silly" written in Hangul. He feels a strange pride in knowing that you had gone through so much trouble of noting down things he has said and how observant you were to the other members' words and he feels a soft warmth on his chest. When you notice him looking, he gives you an approving nod. "Your notes are impressive," he says, with a faint smile. "You’re serious about learning, huh? I respect that." He’s not overly sentimental, but there’s a hint of admiration in his tone. "Just make sure you don’t learn any bad habits from the guys. I'll teach you the proper way to speak," he adds with a teasing glint in his eyes and you roll your eyes with a smile on your lips.

• Changbin

Changbin flips your notes open curiously and starts reading. The first thing he notices is how neatly you've written grammar concepts and phrases with example sentences using names from the K industry like "Changbin ate an apple", "Joshua cannot swim", "Jaejoong, go to the market !". As he goes through, he can’t help but feel a sense of admiration for your dedication. You’ve put in so much work, and it’s clear that you’re genuinely interested in understanding the language. He chuckles when he sees a section labeled "Cute Phrases learnt from Binnie," where you’ve written down a few things he’s said, noting them with little hearts and stars. When you return, he grins at you, holding up the notebook. "These are really impressive," he says, giving you an encouraging smile. "You’ve put in a lot of effort. If you keep it up, you’ll be fluent in no time!". There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he looks at you, feeling touched that you care so much about connecting with him and the rest of the group in their language.

• Hyunjin

Hyunjin finds your notes when you’re both sitting on the couch. He’s flipping through some things on the table when he spots them, open to a section on descriptive words. At first, he’s just curious, but as he goes through them, he realizes how detailed your notes are. You’ve even added pronunciation tips in English and marked down specific tones you’d heard him use, adding little side notes in pencil like, "Try to sound softer, like Hyunjin." Seeing his own influence in your notes makes his heart race. He’s touched to know you’re paying so much attention to the language, even noting his speaking style. There’s something endearing about how you’re working so hard to speak Korean well, not just to understand him but to match his expressions too. "Wow, you’re really serious about this, huh?" he murmurs, glancing over at you with a soft smile. He leans in closer, resting his chin on his hand as he flips through more pages, admiring your hard work. "If you ever want a study buddy, I’d be happy to help. Maybe I could teach you some new words too… you know, personal ones that only we would know or swear words, whichever you want", he winks, enjoying the thought of having something special shared between the two of you.

• Han

Han stumbles upon your notes one day while you’re hanging out. He flips through them casually, but the more he reads, the more impressed he becomes. Your notes are detailed, organized, and incredibly thorough. You’ve written down vocabulary, grammar rules, and even broken down complex sentences into parts. He’s particularly amused when he sees a section labeled "Funny Phrases" with things he’s said, complete with little notes like, "Han said this when he was being silly." He feels a warmth in his chest, touched that you’ve been paying attention to his quirks and speech patterns. When he looks up at you, there’s a playful glint in his eye. "I didn’t know you were working this hard!" he exclaims. "Your notes are so good; I think I’d actually want to borrow them myself!". Han’s admiration is genuine, and he’s a little flustered by how much he enjoys seeing your dedication. "Anytime you want to practice with me, let me know," he offers, giving you a shy smile. "We could make it fun, you know, with little games and stuff and next time I'll take a test and put my signature on there and an A+ and a smiley if you get it all correct", he said with a wink.

• Felix

When Felix flips through the pages and finds your neat handwriting in Hangul , he's charmed by how much dedication you've put into it, especially when he saw you noted expressions and idioms he used labelled as "Sunshine Lixie's expressions", complete with little stars. His heart flutters at the sight. "Your notes are amazing!" he says, his eyes lighting up. "It’s so cool that you’re learning, and it’s adorable how you even have a section just for my phrases." He pats your shoulder proudly, feeling touched and a bit shy. "I could help you practice anytime you want," he adds, his voice softening, secretly hoping to spend more time with you.

• Seungmin

Seungmin finds your notes by accident when he’s helping you clean up after a study session. He notices them lying open on the table and can’t resist taking a look. As he reads through the pages, he’s impressed by your organization and the level of detail. You’ve made vocabulary lists, highlighted grammar points, and even written down little notes to help you remember certain words. He brings it up later, saying, "Your notes are really impressive. You’re actually doing a great job, and if you keep at it, I think you’ll become fluent in no time." He looks at you thoughtfully, adding, "If you ever need help with pronunciation or understanding something or maybe adding some more to the "Seungmin's Tips" list, I’d be happy to help."

• Jeongin

When the maknae finds your neat diary that you've kept for learning Korean, he is a little surprised but also very impressed at you progress as the self graded "test scores" went higher and as he also remembers some difficult words meant for upper Intermediate learners you'd used a week ago while talking to him. He chuckles when he sees his own "Innie’s Words" section, where you’ve noted down phrases he’s said. Later, he brings it up with a smile, saying, "Your notes are really detailed. It’s so cool that you’re putting in so much effort to learn our language." There’s a sense of pride in his voice as he looks at you, genuinely impressed by your dedication. "If you ever need help, I’m here. I could even teach you some more slang, if you’re up for it Y/N ! And next time, I hope to see you score full marks on your little self tests".

A/N : Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you liked it. You can find the rest of my masterlist here.

[atrirose]

͏͏𝒗𝒊. ͏MORE THEN JUST FRIENDS ! enha ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏— ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏& ͏ ͏𝐢

bsf(?)enha x f!reader. warning. none, kissing in jake’ + fluff wc.0.9k 🐰 seiu?!: after a century i’m writing hcs again yayy

— HEESEUNG LEE

let’s you bite him, very weird behavior but he has grown used to it, at first he was all confused as to why you feel the need to bite him like a chew toy but it’s okay your best friend(?) get you now, his biceps nom nom, but due to all this he has bite marks all over him which he is least bothered about but he does get asked if he is dating someone a lot which is confusing because why would people just assume he is dating out of the blue “yn you know i have been asked three times today whether im seeing someone and it’s all because of the bite marks you leave, people would think we are dating”

“do you want that to be a reality” he looks at you with wide eyes “are you hearing yourself” — “i am heeseung”

— JAY PARK

wears your hair tie which very bf coded and i wonder why he hasn’t asked you out yet? like which bestie goes around wearing a girls hair tie when he obviously is in the market? wearing it just makes you thing he is taken “do you love my hair tie that much you can’t even return it to me? YOU CANT RETURN MY OWN HAIR TIE TO ME” shoves a piece of cake in your mouth to shut you up “is it bothering that much, i will buy you more” which is weird because why not just return the one he has on his wrist, at this point he just wants be a wife.

“keeps me away from girls you know” oh so now he is just using you as an escape mechanism “keeps me a step closer to you” your ears turned red “so you wanna date me?” you ask

“that’s very multifaceted question” you hit his shoulders “big meanie” he giggled knowing damn well he is down right bad for you

— JAKE SIM

don’t at him but he has kissed you, like a full blown kiss not just a peck, for training purposes right? yes for training purposes so you both don’t seem like complete losers with no experience when you start dating someone, you can at least put each others name on the resume “do you wanna kiss?”

“no” jake looked at you with puppy eyes “why not” just because this is not WHAT NORMAL FRIENDS DO MR.HOT AND GENIUS BESTIES “your breath smells bad” eyes out like that sad hamster on tiktok with violin bg playing “UGH WHATEVER” you kiss him as he smiles between the kisses, knowing you can’t resist him (damn hot mf) “love ya see you after the match”

— SUNGHOON PARK

takes you on dates, and i get that it’s normal but it’s not normal when he is taking you out alone with him every other week to ‘treat you’, because normal friends totally don’t eat at a fancy restaurant together or go on a late night drive without romantic feelings like girl who are you kidding? “don’t you ever think all this dates we go to without our other friends who you reject because you only want to be with me is the reason why people think we are dating”

“yes” he said cuddling you on his bed “and like this is not normal too you cuddling me, WAIT WHAT YES?” he kissed you forehead “yes but we aren’t just friends either you know” butterflies

— SUNOO KIM

cuddles all the time, whether it is out, in school or hanging out at each others houses, you both are all up each others, which has been pointed out so many times but sunoo really doesn’t care, he would rather feel your soft cheeks next to his than hear people about how this can be a whole scandal and lower the chances of you both getting any partners because people think you both are dating “sunoo can i get some water please i’m dehydrated” you try to wiggle out of the sofa you both were cuddling “nooo i will be cold”

“no you won’t be ugh get off me big baby” you try to push him as he gets up “so now you hate me” obviously he is faking it but you feel bad “im not i’m sorry sunoo what do you want me to do”

“date me”

— JUNGWON YANG

unusually long eye contact, and not the staring contest kinda way, but a loving and soft way, like he is expressing how much he loves you by staring at you, even when you are not looking at him he is always admiring you, asked at multiple occasions why he was staring at you and he just replies with ‘can’t i look at my best friend’ like sure so normal for a bestie to look at his bestie with love doe eyes. so the way he looks at you with undivided attention you might think he is listening to everything you are saying but no you got him wrong.

he humming at you talking about some dog you found cute on tiktok but he isn’t actually really listening and registering anything you are saying, he too busy admiring your plump lips that he would give anything to kiss right now “and then a blue cat said heya bro” he still looking at you “hmm that’s cool”

“YANG JUNGWON YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME” you said shaking him “i guess not, it’s hard to control myself from kissing you and still listen to you, i can’t multitask like that”

— RIKI NISHIMURA

has your face as his alternate face lock id, also lets you use his phone, you want his phone real quick okay have it, you want to see through his photos okay have it, you want to use his insta okay use it, the only thing you are off limits is the boys gc because shady business goes down there, people really think you are dating your bestie and how he is the most honest and trustworthy bf ever? like no he has thousands of feet pics in his camera roll and you haven’t heard any explanation from him yet? how is he honest.

“you are going through my dms?” riki asks as you play around with his phone “yeah and if that bothers you don’t worry im texting this pretty girl who slide in your dms, soon you would have a cute girlfriend all because of my rizz” he snatched his phone from your hands “what the hell i thought i blocked her? yn why are texting her-”

“why? did you get offended? i’m sorry i shouldn’t have, no matter how close we are” he face palms like an old man done with everything “i’m not offended because you texted her, i’m offended at the fact that i have such a dumb friend who can’t see i want her more then just friends” there star struck aren’t you

[aroaceleovaldez]

okay last one for the night but. honestly i really hate how the franchise has been using loyalty to Rick as a shield for so long. If Rick was involved in a project or not doesn't matter, especially not anymore.

ReadRiordan and the publishing for the franchise has been using this tactic for ages - they obscure if any writing related to the series wasn't written by Rick unless it's special circumstances. It's near impossible to find out who the ghostwriters are (Stephanie True Peters and Mary-Jane Knight). TSATS was promoted as the first time we got a non-Riordan (Rick or Haley) author working on one of the companion novels despite having seven already existing ghostwritten books in the series. The only reason Mark Oshiro was emphasized so heavily for TSATS was because they also work as a sensitivity reader for topics such as queer identity, and Rick had received backlash in the past for being a Straight Cis Old White Guy repeatedly falling into bad habits (that he hasn't broken out of) with certain characterizations that he kept doubling-down on or retconning into oblivion. The show emphasizes that Rick was involved, but the LA Times article brings into question exactly how much he was involved, and it doesn't even really matter either way. The ReadRiordan site actively avoids putting any writing credits on their articles (or art credits...) or anywhere on their site.

Practically the entire fandom unanimously agrees the musical - which had zero involvement from Rick - is the best adaptation of the series so far, including the TV show. Some of the best writing to come out of the series recently was the stuff ghostwritten by Stephanie True Peters (Camp Half-Blood Confidential, Camp Jupiter Classified, Nine from the Nine Worlds, etc). And yet when promotional stuff is posted about CHB:C, there's clearly coded language used to hide the fact that Rick himself didn't write it. Yes, that's how ghostwriters work, but at this point we should really stop pretending "Rick Riordan" isn't just a pen name for a group of authors like "Erin Hunter" and that Rick is actually writing everything in the series. I can easily look up and see which Animorphs books were ghostwritten, and who those authors were. I can find every "Erin Hunter" easily listed on official sites. And yet most people don't even know the Riordanverse franchise has ghostwriters at all.

And the franchise is still trying to use the "Tio/Uncle Rick" stuff. Author loyalty and marketing parasocial relationships isn't going to save the franchise when the author himself can't hold up his own original themes or even keep basic series bible details straight, and especially not if the editors are barely if at all doing their job. And please at least get a goddamn series bible by this point.

[otsukare-katsukare]

The AEW Wrestling Tarot

unfortunately im back on my wrestling tarot bullshit again (aew only edition this time). my supercard pack never arrived :( so i have to make my own fun. and even worse ive started drawing recreationally again which means theres a chance i may actually try to make this oh dear. anyway. i think i finally, finally have a major arcana im satisfied with and im ready for this to be another 0 note classic but truly if anybody has thoughts and opinions, i wanna hear them:

The Fool: Harley Cameron. I feel like I was waiting so long for a perfect Fool wrestler to appear and no one had quite the right combination of wide-eyed innocent glee, creativity and clear stonking potential. Harley has Jester Qualities, she basically annoyed her way into a TNT title match, she is a woman of many talents most of them creative and entertaining, she's funny, she's original and most importantly she's only just getting started. Godspeed dear Fool.

The Magician: The only reason it's not Kenny is because he's needed elsewhere but really, Will Ospreay is a good fit for this. again, aesthetically it works cause he's got that Assassins Creed overcoat and when he puts his hands out idk it's giving wizard a bit. and then there's the way he's mastered the craft, and is able to produce acts of what look like pure witchcraft with scientific precision. pure confidence, skill and the right amount of hubris to make this very Magician-coded.

The High Priestess: Hear me Out. Renee Paquette. This was the hardest one, even when I was doing this for WWE, AEW and any other active wrestlers I could think of. it's just not a wrestling personality profile, "divine feminine" and inner wisdom and truth and clarity and detachment. clearly there's a gap in the market for this kind of character in wrestling, but so far and at least in aew, all I've seen from the wrestlers themselves are action-oriented hot heads who do very little if any introspection. and it's not quite that Renee does that introspection herself, but she is the conduit for it, right? she is the closest they have to an unbiased truth seeker. despite being literally married to one of the most violent and unhinged members of the roster! whenever revelations are had, parts of the inner worlds of these people that they may have otherwise never shown, either she coaxes it out of them or it happens in her presence. i need to unravel it a bit more but I like this for her I think. and again if anyone has a better high priestess i am all ears.

The Emperess: Emi Sakura. Not a whole lot to this choice other than Emi being the nurturer of the roster, the closest to both a "mom" and someone who actively helps bring the next generation of wrestlers to fruition, like the Empress tending her garden and many children.

The Emperor: Christian Cage, again this is a pretty open and shut book I think, he's literally called the Patriarch. Don Callis also came to mind for this, but Cage has a much more explicit Obey Your Father thing going on, Don is quite openly much more of a blatant opportunist.

The Hierophant: One of my revelations after much soul searching today. It's Bryan Danielson, and the BCC as a whole, as it was originally meant to be, an ideology of wrestling that was supposed to bring it back to its simple, glorious roots. Bryan, like some of these nurturers before him, has focused much more on the future of wrestling than himself, eager to leave a mark on it by virtue of creating the next generation in his image. He also carries this reverance around him, particularly from a subset of the fandom with quite pointed views about what wrestling is/should be - but he himself is sort of painfully human, emphatically not the god of wrestling but a vessel for divine teaching. or something.

The Lovers: Kenny Omega and Kota Ibushi do I really have to explain myself here. I don't but if you're even reading this post I bet you scrolled to this point just to check I made them the lovers so you'll want something. There are no soulmates in wrestling like these two. No two who, while having completely distinct and phenomenal careers of their own, have told such a long, aching story of love transcending time and space and circumstance, of waiting for each other and holding onto that love, and of having been transformed by each other, inspired to be their best selves. all that could be their story without it also being an explicitly queer love story by the way, but that's also what it is. i cant go on anymore my feelings are getting mushy

The Chariot: Mercedes Mone. FOUR BELTS MONE BABY! RIDE the mone train. Etc. The Chariot is a triumphant victory lap, rubbing it in the faces of your enemies that you made it suckaahs. is one of those cards that could sort of be any wrestler who's "made it" really, and Mercedes hasnt even won the Women's World Championship yet, but she so perfectly exemplifies the spirit of this card, the sheer domineering ego and bombastic success of it. Truly a Girlboss Card. And her chariot's still a-rolling!

Strength: Eddie Kingston. Strength is about heart above all. Also very hard to pin down to one passionate babyface, one underdog who forges a deep emotional connection with the audience that carries them through their fight, one wrestler who just emanates that inspiring strength of body and mind and soul, but Eddie feels right here. hardened on the outside by a cruel world, but the beating heart of the whole place underneath that. grounded, relatable, honest and good in his soul. Specifically, his journey to winning the Continental Classic is on my mind here as a classic Strength story in wrestling.

The Hermit: Darby Allin. A late switchup here, as I had Darby as Death for a long time, mostly for aesthetic reasons. but really, he is the quiet loner who hangs back, who only ever found kinship with another loner like him. The Hermit is a card about solitude and reflection and, respectfully, Darby is currently literally away on a months-long journey of self-improvement up Mount Everest. Only a Hermit Wrestler could do that. Don't know if he's going to have gotten any wiser by the time he comes back and if he'll stop throwing himself off genuinely dangerous apparatus, but we will see!

The Wheel of Fortune: Moving from just wrestlers to more conceptual cards, this is The Elite but it's also specifically them as the catalyst for AEW. Wheel of Fortune is about the winds of change and upheaval, exciting new fortunate things on the horizon, luck that may just be on your side. The Elite, quite famously, made a bet, on themselves. It's paid off. But if not the Elite as a whole, this feels particulalry like the Young Bucks' card, those defiant agents of chaos who changed the whole industry by taking risks.

Justice: It's Aubrey Edwards. Justice is fairness, law and order, cause and effect and action and consequence. Vengeance doesn't count, it's gotta be objective. Sorry wrestlers, none of you fit this at all, it has to go to a referee, and why not the top referee of the company?

The Hanged Man: Wheeler Yuta. Look. LOOK. Do you think I wanted it this way either. The Hanged Man is my favourite card, Hangman is my favourite wrestler, he look so pretty hanging upside down with his long blond hair all floating by his face but I'm sorry he's not the hanged man at all, Yuta is. It's a card of stasis, sacrifice, uncertainty, imprisonment - where is Yuta right now! He is completely wrapped up in those ropes, unable to move forward or backwards, made the sacrificial lamb again and again, told every time that the sacrifice is worth it, that all his bridges being burned is worth it, and yet never managing to win anything for himself. His arc will ultimately need him to break out of his prison.

Death: Jon Moxley. Another guy who has floated all around this arcana until, after moving Darby up to hermit status, I realised yeah this fits Mox way more actually. He is, I think, the wrestler whose resurrection in AEW after his previous life is most like a death, first of all. Danielson is the same as Daniel Bryan, Kenny's Kenny wherever he goes, but Dean Ambrose is dead. And Jon Moxley is haunted. He also seems to see himself like a kind of memento mori, especially now, taking a grim sort of pleasure in reminding his foes who get to big for their boots of their mortality. Starting with the aforementioned Danielson. More than any other, he is furious for change. Either change, adapt, or fall at his hands. That is Death if ever I saw it.

Temperance: Similar potential problems with this card as with the High Priestess, but fortunately, Orange Cassidy exists. The rock-solid calm of him, the sheer incongruousness of his blue-shaded serenity as he sidles up to the ring. He's not a perfect paragon of temeprance by any means, he summons fire when he needs it in almost every match, but moving him to real anger felt like like an accomplishment from Mox when it happened. A bad accomplishment. He's as temperate as wrestlers get, I think, and he seems to spread that even keel to the people he spends time with, like the wrestling version of a capybara.

The Devil: MJF. Next.

The Tower: This one's also more of an event than a single wrestler (mostly cause making any one wrestler The Tower feels like a dig, like your thing is crashing and burning spectacularly. Owch) but it belongs mostly to Swerve Strickland and the visual of his house going up in flames, with everything in that hellishly destructive feud that represents. It's really what they did to each other more than just what Hangman did to Swerve that night, and the imagery of houses and homes (invaded, immolated, claimed) running through their feud really fits the Tower aesthetically as well.

The Star: Toni Storm! There's once again an aesthetic bonus because she is a starlet of course. I've historically found The Star a little difficult to differentiate from Strength when applying it to wrestling, both seem to invite those hope-inspiring underdog stories. But having it be represented by Toni I think brings out the more artistic, inspirational aspect of the Star, and the sense that it's really about faith. There's the faith Toni has in herself, in the story she tells about herself, that ultimately becomes true in a strange way only possible in wrestling, and then there's the faith she ultimately inspires in all of us. May she shine on forever.

The Moon: when i first was putting this together, it was Malakai Black and the House of Black, but now it's Julia Hart. The Moon is mystery, the unknown that lies in the shadows, as well as lunar insanity, giving into your darker, hidden self. The black mist is very moon-ish, and Julia seems to embody the witchy, unnerving demonic quality of this card the most. *

The Sun: Willow Nightingale. Sun's all about optimism and celebrating life. This is a vibes card, and I just needed to think who is the sunniest wrestler on the roster? and it was quite an easy pick, really. Whoever's smile is the most radiant is a good hint.

Judgement: Here's Adam Page. Judgement is revelation, a calling, rising up to meet your destiny and embrace the change, redemption, forgiveness. In other words, it's main character shit. And it's exactly the story that Hangman has been telling since he got here. He basically did complete it at Full Gear 2021 when he won the AEW title, and that's the image that this card would draw on, but he's just now embarking on what might be an even greater redemption arc, one that sees him rediscover himself having gone down a far darker parth than he ever did before.

The World: EITHER this is the AEW World Championship or it's Sting's retirement match. I'm kind of leaning towards the latter for something more heartfelt and specific that really communicates this card's meaning of completion, accomplishment and endings.

*there's another very different route one could go down for the Moon, which also means deception, false identity and betrayal - in which case this is Adam Cole lmao. He's not very Moon-ish in his aesthetic though, and aesthetic is quite important in these matters.

[rancidslime]

Magic as Metaphor: Witch Hat Atelier

I've seen a few people describer the magic of Witch Hat Atelier as being "like coding", which irritates me. One, I confess to a personal dislike of "coding" magic systems. I think they're overplayed and they strip the emotional component from magic in favor of making something easily wikiable. It's the kind of fictional magic that I think most appeals to what I will unfairly and derisively refer to as Reddit fantasy fans, the kind of people who seriously engage in powerscaling arguments at length. It also just exhausts me by virtue of its adjacency to Silicon Valley mythmaking about the unique genius of programmers and how they're the visionaries building us a better future. But, you know, that's an unfair emotional response.

The BIGGER reason for my dislike, of course, is I think that's an incredibly shallow interpretation that barely engages with what the text is very obviously communicating. Magic in Witch Hat Atelier is art.

The language surrounding magic in Witch Hat is consistently the language of artwork, specifically illustration. Magic is considered "beyond the reach" of people with vision and motor issues. The word most consistently used to refer to the act of casting magic is "drawing". Magic in this series is a very obvious analogue to making illustrations. (Imagine! A mangaka might be doing what a bunch of former programmer novelists did using her OWN area of expertise and internal conflicts with art as inspiration! I'm sorry, I know I'm being snide and that's not helpful, I'm just so exasperated by this interpretation, because it feels to me like such a demonstration of how people routinely devalue and diminish the skills of artists even when they don't mean to.)

Being a good witch requires being to retain knowledge on a wide variety of symbols, consistently make the correct marks, and have the whimsy and ingenuity to come up with new, helpful, or beautiful magic. In other words, having an expansive visual library, being a good draftsman, and having a unique artistic voice.

Coco and her friends are quite young and lack the finer technical skills of their superiors, but their inventiveness and youth are consistently pointed at as strengths. When they impress Beldaruit, it's not through an act of extreme technical proficiency, it's by making something simple and beautiful with the skills they have. One of Agott's biggest triumphs in the series right now is her knowing the curtain leech sigil off the top of her head, because she loves decorative magic and obscure magical minutiae! Even though it's not "useful" for "marketable" in ways other magic is!

Witch Hat isn't just about art by any means - it's also about academia, power, privilege, responsibility, and more. It's a rich text. But I confess to feeling frustrated by just how many people just skim over or outright miss what is, to me, a very core part of the series' identity!

[dyggtheway]

Fashion and the Messaging Machine: Balancing Authenticity🎸

Fashion has always been a dynamic and expressive industry, constantly evolving to reflect cultural shifts and societal trends. However, in recent years, the emphasis on influencing has led to concerns about authenticity. Are these brands prioritizing controversey over substance?

Join Us Down the Rabbit Hole

The fashion industry has undergone significant transformation over the decades. From haute couture to ready-to-wear, and now the dominance of fast fashion, the industry's evolution has been marked by its ability to adapt and innovate. Streetwear culture, with its roots in urban environments, has significantly influenced mainstream fashion, bringing a new level of edginess and relevance.

Streetwear has revolutionized fashion by blending fabrics, labels, and attitude for the daily life. Gaining power from empowering the individual, the antidote to a long history of exploitation that continues to push back.

Messaging in Fashion

In the flurry between the Battle of the Brand crossfire, messaging is vital.Communicating values, social stances, and cultural relevancy. This messaging shapes identity and influences perception. However, with this power comes the responsibility to ensure that messaging is genuine and not just a marketing ploy.

Fashion Marketing Hangovers: Greenwashing-Rainbow Washing-Woke Washing

Greenwashing refers to brands falsely promoting themselves as environmentally friendly.

Rainbow washing occurs when brands use LGBTQ+ symbols during Pride Month to generate revenue without actually supporting the community.

Woke washing involves brands adopting social justice rhetoric, imagery or even labels to seem socially aware and progressive.

Who's To Blame? Brands that feature representation in their ads but lack representation within their corporate structures, leading to the erosion of trust and pain at the bottom line.

Encouraging Authenticity- begins and ends with people. In the People First model we can retrace our roots and regain integrity.

To quote Nemo it's time to break ,"The Code".

Fashion's relationship with messaging is complex and multifaceted. Want in on the conversation? Explore our Free Online Fashion Design Courses and start creating your unique designs today. And when you're ready to bring your creations to life, print them with Unique Boutique Streetwear.

Let's make magic, together!🤘🍑

[thekneethief]

kleya and luthen conversation transcripts: season 1

typed these up for me and @agentsofquack to have on hand and thought people might also appreciate having them for quick reference needs! [S2 Pt.1] [S2 Pt.2] (speaker alternates on line breaks and brackets indicate an action)

Season 1, Episode 4: Aldhani | 28:00-28:18

"Senator Mon Mothma's here. New driver."

"Anyone we know?"

"Nerver seen him."

"Chandrilan."

"[sigh] One would think." ~ Season 1, Episode 5: The Axe Forgets | 37:30-39:04

"I thought you were turning it off?"

"I was just going to."

"You said that an hour ago."

"Am I keeping you up?"

"[sigh] There's nothing coming through tonight. You want to be useful? Go clean some coins."

"[unplugs radio] Happy? …Have you checked your walkaway pack?"

"Yes."

"And the one on the Fondor?"

"I don't like seeing you nervous. There's nothing else you can do Luthen. They're either gonna be okay out there or they're not."

"Ha, that's a daring prediction."

"Vel's the only one who traces back."

"No. The thief. Andor. I wasn't careful."

"You wanted this to happen. This is what it took. It's never gonna be perfect."

"I wanted it too much."

"..We have clients in the morning."

"Yeah, I'll be ready"

"It'll all be over this time tomorrow."

"Or it'll just be starting.

"Or that."

~

Season 1, Episode 7: Announcement | 7:12-7:21

"Mon Mothma."

"..Without warning?"

"Wipe the smile off your face." ~

Season 1, Episode 8: Narkina 5 | 37:28-39:21

"Kleya. ...Kleya?"

"It's the shop owner on Ferrix. She's trying to find Cassian Andor, his mother is ill. ..We're not answering. We can't!"

"She could point us in the right direction."

"She's asking us!"

"She knows more than we do. So much more. She might have a lead."

"More likely it's the ISB working her radio."

"You're guessing!"

"And you're slipping! We're shutting down Ferrix. The code. The frequency. All of it. I'm thinking clearly and you're not. Tell me to shut it down."

"…It's Andor. Knowing he's out there knowing me. Not knowing what he knows. I took him on the Fondor… What I insane?"

"You were despertate for Aldhani to work and it did. And we'll find him, just not like this."

"Vel was out hunting. She and Cinta. Are they in Ferrix yet?"

"I'll have a listen. We're being extremely careful with it."

"The woman's name is Bix Caleen. Vel could have a look if it's safe. They know what they're doing. I'm not slipping, Kleya. I've just been hiding for too long."

"It's all different now. We're going loud. Vulnerability is inevitable."

"..I'm not slipping."

"I know. I just need you to wake up. There's a lot to do."

"Shut it down." ~ Season 1, Episode 10: One Way Out | 14:22-15:02

"There was a mark on the fountain."

"Could be anything."

"That's what I thought, so I went to the stairs. The rail was gone. A clean break. Fresh. He wants a meeting, face to face."

"There goes the day."

"I don't like it. Not now, I don't like the timing."

"You don't like anything."

"[sigh] At the very least you need to let me go. Take the Fondor, get someplace safe, and let me take care of it."

"You know that's not happening. Stop wasting time. It's been a year. I'm surprised he waited this long."

"And if it's a trap?"

"Oh, it it's a trap, we've already lost."

~

Season 1, Episode 11: Daughters of Ferrix | 30:32-31:34

"Where are you?"

"He wanted to reopen the offer."

"And did you close the sale?"

"I did. It was more expensive than i hoped, but I wasn't in a position to bargain."

"So, you're coming home?"

"Depends. I'm most curious about the other piece."

"[pause.. and then inhale] You should come home."

"Is it no longer available?"

"No, it's very much on the table. The negotiations are ongoing and our representatives are involved, but there's a number of other buyers on the ground and your presence would only complicate the bidding at this point."

"We need that piece. We lose that and we'll have to close shop."

"There's nothing more you can do."

"That's never true."

"It's a crowded market."

"You need to think of the consequences of losing that piece to another collector."

"I'm preparing for every outcome."

"There's onl- [broadcast turns into static]"

"..Luthen? Luthen??"

[mariacallous]

In early April of this year, after more than a decade of litigation and a $90-million settlement, Mark Zuckerberg sent me forty bucks on Venmo.

To be clear, it wasn’t Zuck personally. That $40.67 was my cut of the payout from a class action lawsuit: the “Facebook Internet Tracking Litigation” case (not to be confused with the “Facebook, Inc. Consumer Privacy User Profile Litigation,” payment pending). Since January, I’ve secured other payouts of $21.65, $20.04 (twice), $14.81 and $12.60 as a result of class action settlements, and there are almost certainly more to come.

If you spend enough time on the internet, odds are that you too have stumbled into the class action expanded universe. You’re not alone: According to a recent defense attorney interest group report, there was $42 billion in class action settlements reached last year, “the third highest value we have tallied in the last two decades, trailing only the settlement numbers from 2023 ($51.4 billion) and 2022 ($66 billion).” Given the proliferation of corporate monopolies, legal cases brought against tech companies will naturally include more and more claimants and bigger and bigger settlements. Ads marketing these lawsuits are popping up on social media and, while most people ignore them, there are Facebook groups, lawyers, and hunters like myself, all dedicated to chasing down these payouts.

On top of that, a change in federal rules in 2018 laid the groundwork to make email the most common class-action notice delivery method—so it’s entirely possible that right now, hiding in a spam folder, there’s an unread message declaring that you’re already part of one. Open the email, enter your class member code, maybe provide some receipts (unless it’s a “no-proof” settlement), and pick your delivery method; they have Venmo, Zelle, prepaid cards, paper checks, direct deposit, etc. After a couple of years, boom! Instant money.

But while applying to get some of that money has never been more convenient, the vast majority of eligible claimants will never see a dime: A 2019 study by the Federal Trade Commission put the claims rate for class actions at an outrageously low 4 percent by weighted mean.

Take cases about data breaches or privacy violations. There were more than 250 million users in the class of those affected by the 2018 Cambridge Analytica scandal—essentially, everyone in the US with a Facebook account. Out of the eligible class size of 250 million, only 17 million valid claims were filed. There’s the spate of recent “social media addiction” cases looking for more class members by (ironically enough) advertising on Instagram, plus the semi-recent class action that chastised the once-mighty Juul for targeting teens, and the very, very recent Lopez v. Apple Inc. settlement, which could give folks $20 per Siri-enabled device if you sign up by July 2.

Many people ignore these messages—assuming they’re a scam, or thinking the payout isn’t worth the hassle. But other people, like April Phelps, are filing claims with gusto.

“I check daily,” says Phelps, a Memphis-based health care worker who estimates she’s received almost $8,000 since 2023 by keeping up with the various postcards, emails, and online advertisements that work to bring eligible claimants into a class action. “Out of a seven-day week, no more than about two and a half hours—probably 30 minutes or so a day—just to scroll through and see if there's been any updates or any new settlements that impact me. I'll check my junk mail too, just to make sure.”

I found Phelps on a 30,000-plus-member Facebook group set up by Top Class Actions, a news site that tracks and offers updates on various ongoing class actions. People in the TCA Settlements & Payouts group help confused first-timers navigate eligibility, answer questions about when settlement payments might come in and post updates about case results. These kinds of sites are what I recommend to people who ask, because since 2021, I’ve become “class action guy,” reminding family members to file claims, check their spam folders, and get that money.

Technically, I was party to my first class action all the way back in 2016, with litigation related to the Aliso Canyon gas leak, which WIRED reported as the “worst climate disaster in US history” at the time. That process was mainly via email and on the phone, and the payout took seven years to show up—but in the meantime, I kept searching for “settlement” in my email.

In 2021, that led me to Mansour v. Bumble Trading Inc., a settlement in California based on claims that Bumble was discriminating against male users by only letting women message first. I signed up, waited for my payout, and after that was Rivera et al. v. Google LLC (Google photos storing face data without consent), plus Sosa v. Onfido (biometric privacy violation), California v. Vitol (manipulated gas prices), even Milan v. Clif Bar & Co. (misleading labels on Clif Bars), and my beloved Facebook Internet Tracking Litigation.

It’s not that I have a personal vendetta against these companies. I still eat the Clif Bars. But by gosh, the law says I’m owed some money, these companies probably did do something wrong (even if they don’t admit it), and frankly, the payout feels a bit like winning in a legal system designed for people to lose. Why wouldn’t I take it?

That’s close to the story I was told by Phelps, as well. She says she’s been on the lookout for class actions since 2021, when she found out she was party to litigation against Blue Cross Blue Shield via a notice hidden in her junk mail.

“More people need to start paying attention, because if you miss a deadline, in some cases, for a $10,000 cheque, you’re going to be upset,” she says. “I wish I was getting $10,000, but some people are eligible to receive that, and they don't take it seriously because they don't do their research.”

Phelps says that the most helpful avenue for staying informed has been the smattering of groups on Facebook, where people answer questions, offer advice, and upload pictures of payouts: Venmo, Zelle, prepaid cards, and paper checks. Phelps says the group helped her evangelize a couple of friends and her mom into class action consciousness.

“It's not like these are poor defenseless companies, right? They committed an error,” she says. “If more people pay attention, honestly, I feel like these manufacturers or these businesses will stop being so quick to offer things to us without doing their research.”

Despite how helpful these groups have been for some people, they’re still a poor substitute for an official government portal, says Amanda M. Rose, a professor of law at Vanderbilt University.

“There’s been a lot of enthusiasm for technology solving these problems, although we see … that it hasn’t necessarily borne itself out,” she says.

Rose adds that a federally run website and support system (ClassAction.gov, say) could help increase claim rates, cut down on confusion, and create a database for researchers looking to make policy suggestions on public oversight of class actions. Without that infrastructure, the void is filled by third-parties (like the absurdly named “ClaimClam,” called out by the DC attorney general last year), who can use AI to identify potential class members in lawsuits and settlements, get them to submit claims via their platform and then take a cut of their settlements. ClaimClam also charged consumers “15%, and in some cases 40%,” of their claim, while also misleading them to think that settlements were guaranteed, and hiding that the law firm they were recommending was also co-owned by the same founder, according to a settlement between the company and the office of the DC attorney general. Even the top aggregator sites, like ClassAction.org or the aforementioned TopClassActions.com, are private companies that can earn referral fees from law firms for offering info on the class actions.

The lack of a federal database also makes it difficult to track down claimants who have changed addresses, determine if the legalese has been effectively translated into plain English, or figure out if the notices are getting past the spam filter—and all of these problems are exacerbated by a glaring lack of data on record. Are the claims settlement administrators who are charged with finding eligible class members doing a thorough job? According to Rose, solving these issues has always been a problem, but no one in particular is keeping track.

“You can't even have an intelligent public policy debate about these matters without having better insight into them,” says Rose.

That argument touches on one of the core pillars in American jurisprudence supporting class actions—as a type of public service in the form of a deterrent.

“At least in our legal culture, we have decided that we should make it possible for people with small value claims to bring them all together,” says Deborah Hensler, professor of dispute resolution at Stanford Law School.

“Perhaps a large number of people have claims, but the claims are worth fairly small amounts of money. Maybe they lost $25 each? A corporation could make a lot of money by collecting lots and lots of $25,” she says. “But individually, going to court for $25? Forget it.” Thus, class actions.

According to Hensler, class actions in one form or another have been part of US law for centuries. A dispute in 1820 over the estate of a deceased general, West v. Randall, is widely considered the first, though Brown v. Board of Education, which ended legal segregation in 1954, is probably the most well-known example. She considers their prevalence to be a function of an American court system that has fewer barriers to entry than many others, including much lower court filing fees, the option for lawyers to advertise, and legal representation on contingency (which is widely regulated or outright disallowed in many other countries).

“When you have a system that is so law-oriented, and you have a lot of lawyers and you have a way for people to find lawyers, even if they don't have very much money, then you have a way for lawyers to make money by taking people's cases,” Hensler says. “Then when some issue arises—like Facebook privacy—there are some lawyers who say ‘That’s interesting, maybe I could bring a class action.’”

Because the legal precedent is so complex, Hensler says there are many laws on the books allowing class actions to be brought for everything from the aforementioned privacy violations to the spate of recent class actions with wide political implications, like J.G.G. v. Trump, where a judge ordered deportation flights of Venezuelan men to be turned back, an order the Trump administration ignored.

“The current cases are on behalf of people who are claiming they have been improperly, illegally treated by the Trump Administration,” Hensler says. “They're trying to get the courts to say ‘Stop doing this,’ not just for one person, but for all the people like them.”

Aside from their use in recent immigration cases, class actions as legal tools are actually in a bit of a hard place. The Class Action Fairness Act, signed into law by the Bush administration in 2005, made it easier for defendants to shift their cases to federal court from the state level, a move that ultimately made class actions harder to certify, slower to resolve, and more expensive to pursue.

Instead, plaintiffs’ lawyers have shifted toward mass torts, mass-claim litigation, and multidistrict litigation—approaches that involve coordinating large numbers of individual claims, rather than trying to certify a single class. In the pre-internet era, coalescing that many claimants would be Sisyphean; in 2025, it’s almost smooth sailing.

“The underlying issue is that modern society produces mass injuries, mass complaints, mass everything,” Hensler says. “We've done a pretty good job in this country of trying to come up with procedures for dealing with this ‘mass claim’ phenomenon—a better job than virtually every other country in the world—but we haven't figured it out yet.”

Something that shouldn’t be hard to figure out is that regardless of the particular legal avenue, the class or mass action notifications are just going to keep coming—so people like Phelps and I will keep scanning social media and checking our spam folders. Maybe in a couple more years, I’ll get a notification about another forty bucks. And until then, I’ll keep scrolling, filing, and quietly cashing in, because if corporations can profit off our data, habits, and mistakes, the least we can do is get paid back when they screw up.

It’s not justice, exactly—just the version we’re left with in a system where accountability is slow, flawed, and monetized. But until something better comes along, I’m not leaving free money on the table. You shouldn’t either.

[the-most-humble-blog]

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<meta tier="2::Shame-Flip Acolyte" />

<script type="truth/data">

SUBJECT: FALSE PROPHET DETECTED

EVENT_ID: JEDI-000X

TRIGGER_TYPE: NOSTALGIA RAGE | LORE BLASPHEMY

EMOTION_OVERRIDES: Legacy grief, Canon desecration, Heroic betrayal

</script>

🩸 I REBUKE THIS IMAGE.

(And So Should Anyone Who Loved Star Wars Before It Became Hollow.)

You see this picture?

The one where Rey — this unearned, unscarred, ***Disney-forged meme of a character*** — is standing center stage in front of the *actual Jedi*, yelling “I am all the Jedi”?

This isn’t art.

This isn’t homage.

This is **blasphemy in comic ink.**

---

Let me tell you something real.

Obi-Wan?

He bled for the code. Lost his brother. Lost his way. Kept going anyway.

Luke?

Watched his aunt and uncle burn. Knew Vader was his father. Saved him *anyway* — not with power, but with belief.

Anakin?

Became the galaxy’s most tormented monster just because he loved too hard and was manipulated too deep. And he still died trying to make it right.

Mace? Ki-Adi? Aayla? Kit Fisto?

They bled, fought, trained, and died with conviction — not TikTok empowerment slogans and identity armor.

And now this random scavenger who ***absorbed legacy by osmosis*** is front and center, yelling "I am all the Jedi"?

Girl, you ain’t even one.

---

🧠 This Is Not Representation.

This is **colonization.**

Of myth.

Of lineage.

Of sacrifice.

This is **a hostile takeover of meaning** by a corporate boardroom that thought nostalgia could be weaponized into product.

They didn’t honor the Jedi.

They hijacked them.

They didn’t build a new hero.

They ***photoshopped girlboss pixels over Anakin’s corpse.***

---

🗡️ You wanna be all the Jedi?

You gotta *suffer like them*.

You gotta *lose like them*.

You gotta *carry guilt, war, betrayal, failure, rage, and still choose the light.*

Rey didn’t do that.

She just... appeared.

She got the saber without the wound.

She got the power without the training.

She got the name without the blood.

She got the throne without the burden.

And that is **not Jedi.**

That is ***fan service for the spiritually bankrupt.***

---

📉 Disney sold you a prophecy with no price tag.

Rey didn’t “inherit” the Jedi mantle.

She *looted it.*

She’s not the culmination of the Jedi Order — she’s the **empty cosplay tombstone** marking its death.

And anyone who grew up with Star Wars in their bones — who *bled with Luke*, who *fell with Anakin*, who *mourned with Obi-Wan* — you feel it in your ***spirit*** when you see this picture.

This ain’t respect.

It’s ***mockery.***

---

💀 You want to know who Rey is?

She’s the spiritual equivalent of someone screaming “I’m MLK” because they read a tweet about racism once.

She’s the mythic equivalent of a LinkedIn coach who read one Marcus Aurelius quote and now posts “I am all the Stoics.”

She’s not the Force made flesh.

She’s ***Hasbro in a tunic.***

---

🔥 You think this doesn’t matter?

You think this is just “fan whining”?

Myth matters, brother.

Because when you replace earned heroism with ***mass-market power fantasy*** — you don’t just ruin a movie.

You ***disarm generations.***

You teach kids that **legacy can be claimed, not built.**

That identity is costume, not courage.

That you can be chosen without sacrifice.

That power is a vibe — not a burden.

You know what that breeds?

Adults with no discipline.

No reverence.

No origin story.

Just aesthetics and entitlement.

---

🛡️ You think I’m being harsh?

I grew up Jedi.

And I will not sit quiet while their memory gets drag-and-dropped behind a girl who never earned the right to ignite their sabers.

You don’t inherit the Force.

You earn it. Through loss. Through death. Through confrontation with the abyss.

Rey skipped the abyss.

But she got the meme.

---

📜 Final Word?

I reject this image.

I reject the lie.

And I reject any canon that tries to place Rey above the ones who built the myth with blood, agony, and *truth.*

If that makes me toxic?

So be it.

At least I'm not ***spiritually hollow.***

---

🛡️ Masculine polarity. Scrolltrap psychology. Unforgiven words.

🚪 Warning: This one broke timelines. And it will again.

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