#I've been on teams that keep people in base

[thingsmysplattershotjrtoldme]

i wish anyone who uses a charger in turf a very lose.

[batsplat]

do you know why vale seems to have a soft spot for pedrosa?

there's not any single one reason, I don't think, but here's are a few contributing factors that come to mind:

history! in large part because of the honda link, dani's the alien he's known the longest... valentino was the number one honda rider at a time at which dani was honda's rising star. photo on the right is from the 2001 honda celebrations at the last race of the season (when dani was sixteen); from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races: "that night vale celebrated in style at a raucous honda victory party, where he taught honda youngsters daijiro kato and dani pedrosa how to drink". they've known each other forever! valentino was getting teenage dani drunk! quite natural to be fond of someone you've seen grow up like that, even if they are being moulded to be your next big rival

circumstance! the way it basically works with valentino is that if you want to have a feud with him, you generally need to have a title fight with him when you’re already ‘established’ rivals (ignore marc, that’s its own thing, 2015 is a freaky season). biaggi and valentino were enemies headed into 2001 and then were worse enemies, he was cool with sete in year one but not year two, mostly *wiggles hand* the same with casey and jorge… feuds aren't build overnight. valentino and dani weren’t ever really direct title rivals - closest they got was 2006 and 2008, but in both cases valentino probably didn’t see dani as his main problem that year. there wasn't really any competitive necessity for valentino to get nasty... also with one or two notable exceptions, valentino did kinda have dani handled in their actual wheel-to-wheel fights, which let’s face it probably didn’t hurt

yapping! so this is just a theory but it’s one I believe strongly in. you know how valentino loves to talk, right? the thing about pressers and podiums is that you're always going to have a few regular attendees, if you will, corresponding to the front runners in any given year. now, unfortunately for valentino, there were periods of time where almost every other regular attendee was someone he had pretty active beef with. that doesn’t mean he always avoided yapping at them, but relatively speaking you want a guy you can build up some good repartee with to pass the time. dani was his guy… less complicated than casey and jorge, plus dani is polite enough to go along with it and maybe even enjoy chatting to valentino (it’s been known to happen). pressers can be boring and at podiums you're still full of adrenaline, valentino wants to share a joke with someone! my completely unscientific sense is that valentino does this a lot with dani around 2008-ish to 2012, then for two years marc is the number one yap victim, then for a while it’s a bit…? oddly valentino does seem to chat quite a lot with jorge in 2015... he likes to throw in a quirky behavioural pattern sometimes to keep you guessing. anyway then in 2016 he is Actively Ignoring two of these men so vale goes!! hi there dani!! and takes it from there (though the field is more mixed up post-2015 so he becomes more of an opportunistic yapper). in general, valentino will chat to pretty much anyone with A Few Exceptions, but he does usually have a bit of an order of preference

dani’s personality! now, obviously dani is very much capable of feuds, but he’s not that naturally combative a character. valentino generally needs a competitive justification for beef, though some personal animosity can help too… but he never really hated any of that trio of young riders to come through. valentino's known dani forever, he’s been around dani a fair bit because of their respective statuses in the sport, dani isn’t going out of his way to pick fights with valentino, so no reason not to get on! he does clearly quite like chatting to dani and seems pretty fond of him even towards the start of the alien era, at a time in which it was broadly expected that dani not casey would emerge as vale's primary challenger... god knows if the relationship would have soured if dani had assumed that mantle (probably at least a little lol) but failing that, valentino does just seem to quite like him. y’know, sometimes it’s like that

They Have Also Had Their Disagreements, But There Hasn’t Been Much Cause For It To Escalate Further. these disagreements have tended to be over racing standards, where dani is generally in the ‘you people are all insane’ camp and valentino is generally in the ‘ah it’s fine’ camp (though, obviously, there is nuance here… cf vale also criticising sic over the le mans 2011 incident that left dani with the broken collarbone). generally, they don't get into direct conflict over it, more of an underlying difference in positions (hey, aragon 2013 is an example)... but there’s been dani’s suggestion that valentino’s sepang 2015 stance is inconsistent with his generally laissez faire approach, and also some other isolated little scuffles over the years like say 2017 aragon (see below). pretty small scale stuff in the grand scheme of things and if you've been on-track rivals for that long it's kinda inevitable you'll eventually disagree about some stuff, but perhaps worth bringing up

went through all of the alien combos in my head and these two slot in just behind dani/casey as probably the two most consistently beef-free inter-alien relationships? dani/casey gets extra credit for surviving The Teammate Test. but, y'know, the thing about valentino is that he's a sociable, outgoing guy... he likes talking to people... he's actually interested in them... he's a decent conversationalist, easy to get on with, all that stuff. so if you expose valentino to this nice fella who at most was like... perhaps a bit more reserved towards the start of his time in the premier class (partly due to his mentor's approach), but really was generally pretty chill... well, if valentino isn't given any reason to hate dani, then default state is that he won't. good on them etc

[ladyelainehilfur]

Literally insane to me how small the general webtoon fandom is outside of the webtoon app itself (and maybe reddit??)

I've talked to multiple people irl who LOVE reading webtoon, but the online community is borderline threadbare ! Most people on Tumblr have no IDEA who our blorbos are! I've checked tags for some fairly popular webtoon and it was like visiting that Tatooine town in the Mandalorian where there are 5 citizens total, but only if you also count the Mayor, the sheriff, and the deputy.

Lore Olympus is the most popular webtoon and has under 2,000 fics on AO3. Lookism has roughly 1,000. Unordinary, THEE legacy webtoon, only has 600, and it's been running for almost 7 years now. It has nearly 6M subscribers and still gets 50K+ likes each week. It's not dead by any means.

I guess it doesn't help that each webtoon is its own micro ecosystem and once a webtoon ends, that ecosystem typically fades with it. But webtoons can go on runs longer than most shows on streaming services, and those fandoms burn hot and bright even if only for the first month of a new season drop.

By comparison, webtoon fans are largely casual about their enthusiasm, even if they're highly invested in the story or characters. From my experience, only the most passionate try to connect with other fans online. But when you're passionate about one webtoon, I suppose it's hard to show constant excitement about the 20+ other stories one might keep up with. Still, between the 85 million monthly readers, you'd think each major webtoon would at least have a dedicated fan base (meaning people who regularly post theories, thoughts, fics, and fanart) of mere thousands outside of the app.

One exception for this is that Batman webtoon? It actually trends on Tumblr every now and again. But it doesn't count, because Batman has a built in fandom who'll eat up and yell in the streets about any content where he's a decent dad.

People who read romance webtoon all tend to read the same comics, and actively understand the references to other popular romance comics (Trashta, Team Seojun, SLS), so you'd think there'd be a greater sense of unity. More people actively searching out others to discuss with and posting their thoughts online and not just in that webtoon's comment section.

I mean, C'MON girls!!! Millions of people log into that app like everyday!!! WHERE is the community?? WHERE is the fanart?? WHERE is the fanfic?? WHY does Odd Girl Out only have 7 fanfics?? WHY are there like 2 people on Twitter posting about Weak Hero?? Head in hands fr

[firestorm09890]

there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.

this

She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.

But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.

And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.

Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.

I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.

the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.

She absolutely does not feel this way.

On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:

Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...

Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.

and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)

Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is Ryōshū's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way

...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy

I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hi Jonny, if you don't mind I have a question about the TMA TTRPG! So I noticed that on the player's guide there's this guy, who my friends and I assumed is probably Jon. If it is him, is this a canon design, or more like some of the non-canon stuff that's in the merch?

So, I hope you don't mind if i use this ask to go a bit off on one. I'm not specifically dragging you (I'm actualy glad you asked, as I've thinking about posting on the topic), but all the discussion around the RPG art and how "official" or "canon" it might be is, to my mind, slightly silly.

First up, is it "official" art? I mean, yeah, its art for the officially licenced Magnus Archives RPG. This means Monte Cook Games have commissioned someone to do a beatiful illustration broadly based on some aspect, episode or character from the podcast and it goes in the book. But that's kinda all it means. "Official" is a legal distinction, not an artistic one. The fact that it's in an official product doesn't make it any less one artist's cool interpretation of a character that has only been vaguely described in audio.

Second, is it Jonathan Sims the Archivist? I mean, it's probably based on the idea of him, but it's certainly not set in stone. When we were first discussing art with MCG, we advised that character pictures be more vibes-based and not explicitly tied to specific people (ie. a portrait inspired by Tim wouldn't be captioned "This is Tim" and wouldn't be placed opposite a profile for Tim Stoker, archival assistant.) This was mainly because we wanted the artists to have plenty of freedom to interpret and not feel too tied down by the need to know everything about the podcast. But, to be frank, it was also because we know that there are a few fans out there that are kinda Not Chill about what they've personally decided these characters look like and can get a bit defensive over depictions that differ.

It strikes me as particularly strange to be having this discussion about art that's for a roleplying game book. Something that's explicitly and solely designed to give you the ability to play in your version of the Magnus universe. The idea that this is the thing where we'd for some reason try to immutably establish unchangable appearances for these characters would be pretty funny if some folks weren't taking it so seriously. Similarly ridiculous is the idea we could reasonably have said to MCG "We'd love for you to make a huge beautiful RPG book of our setting... Just make sure you don't depict any of the iconic characters or events from it!"

But... is it "canon"? Now, to my mind, this highlights a real weakness in a lot of fandom thinking around "canon", which is that it generally has no idea what to do with adaptations. All adaptation is interpretation, and relies on taking a work and letting new creatives (and sometimes the same ones) have a different take on it. Are the appearances of the Fellowship of the Ring in the LOTR movies "canon"? How much, if at all, does that matter? Neil Gaiman's book Neverwhere was originaly a 90s BBC series made with a budget of 50 pence; is anyone who makes fanart of Mr Croup that doesn't look like the actor Hywel Bennet breaking canon? What about the novel that describes the character differently? Or the officially licenced Neverwhere comic where he looks like neither of them? Which is his "canon appearance"?

Canon is an inherently messy concept, and while it is useful for a creative team trying to keep continuity and consistency within a creative work, for thinking about anything beyond that it tends to be more hinderance than help.

Anyway, all this is to say that the above picture and all the others in the RPG are exactly as canon as every other picture you've ever seen of the Archivist.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Broken || Alexia Putellas

summary : you're broken but your girlfriend knows how to hold you together. angst.

a/n : i've literally got no time to write but i've been itching so here just a teeny tiny blurb i came up with before class while listening to the song below.

Based on ‘Stay’ by Gracie Abrams

Alexia walked into your apartment to the sound of your sobs. She almost dropped the groceries she was holding, your dog startled at the sound of a wine bottle that nearly broke as it hit the marble counter a little too hard.

“Amor?” she called, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. You were a mess, curled up in a ball in the middle of the king-sized bed.

“Please make it stop,” you begged, words muffled into the pillow you were hugging, wishing it was your girlfriend. Alexia shuffled into the room with tears brimming in her eyes, her heart shattering as she watched you become a shell of yourself.  

The pain was something you learned to deal with yourself. Years and years of self-loathing from bouts of depression and suicide made you numb to love. Your parents were to blame, favoring your sister who was always smarter, better, stronger, and more deserving of their love and attention. Football was your one distraction and injury took that away from you.

The years of hiding behind a ball and suppressing all those feelings came crashing down when your ACL tore. The feelings were overwhelming, thoughts of self-destruction felt like an old friend.

You were better at football than she was. But that was not good enough for them. She had to be first. Not you.

You thought that if you could just be better at something than she was, they’d love you.

Turns out, they resented you for it.

“How dare you be better than her?”

“How dare you take her spot on the team?”

“You don’t deserve it.”

They got one thing right though. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve their harsh words. You didn’t deserve their criticism. You didn’t deserve their wishes that you weren’t a burden.

Burden. That’s what you feel like now. On your girlfriend who had to deal with your breakdowns and tantrums.  

She was too good for you. If she saw how broken you were, or how much of a liar you were, she’d leave. Just like they did.

“Amor, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Alexia cooed, curling up beside you with her arms around you.

“Could you hold me without any talking?” you asked, a voice so soft Alexia almost missed your request.

“Of course, I can,” she said, pulling you into her arms.

They were warm. Safe. Strong. Determined to take your pain away.

She spoke after a while, certain you had fallen asleep as your choked sobs simmered down.

“I don't care if you've changed, but you are so much more than football. You are so beautiful, kind, loving, and most importantly, mine. Amor, you are so special to me and I hope we can help you see that.”

“You deserve someone who isn’t such a mess, Alexia,” you mumble; she’s a little startled that you’re awake but keeps her cool to not agitate you.  

“Everyone’s a little messy, cariño. That’s what makes us people who learn how to love.”

[multifandomimagin3s]

They have a crush on you (HC's) - Team 141 + König

Requested by Anon

Simon "Ghost" Riley

*Honestly I could write an essay on this complicated man, he's such an interesting character - but I've summed up some HC's below*

This guy is so hard to read, but at the same time he's not.

At first glance, he's a hardened man who keeps his cards close to his chest and never lets his guard down around anyone. And that's true.

Given everything he's been through in life, that amount of trauma is bound to have a long-term effect on every aspect of his life - not to mention the fact that he's probably learned to repress all of that shit for most of his life.

So I reckon that even if he did have romantic feelings towards you, it would take him a long, long time for him to even process what he's feeling - he's not stupid by any manner of means, more so he doesn't know what to do with this newfound information.

He would probably try and be mean to you - not that he was ever truly sweet on you in the first place, he couldn't let people know he had a soft spot; a weakness.

If you were part of 141, he would probably try to completely ignore you - unless he physically had to speak to you, like if you were on a mission together ((ngl I think Price probably would put the pieces together and would try to push you both together by sending you off on the same mission - fulfilling his Dad Captainly duties)).

You'd probably have known Ghost for a while before he starts to open up to you - it's superficial stuff, like maybe when his birthday is or his favourite food, little details that didn't really give any crucial information away, but you knew better than to pry as it would probably just make him shut himself away more.

He'd probably be protective of you - like if the team were out at a pub after a mission gone well, and there was a creepy guy bothering you, he would loom over you to scare the guy shitless with piercing, cold eyes.

We all know that as soon as Soap figures out that Ghost has a crush, he's going to absolutely want to take the piss out of him for it...he just needs to pick his words carefully, since he chooses life :))

It's hard to tell when or if he would actually confess his feelings to you - I can see it happening in one of two ways:

1 - You almost died on a mission, and he deeply regretted not telling you before when he thought you weren't going to make it back to base in time; he visited you every day while you were in hospital, and ended up bluntly just coming right out with how he felt because he needed you to know.

2 - Soap tells you before he can. With this scenario, I don't see Ghost blowing up in a fit of rage - it would be the silent death stare with the promise of an arse-kicking in the training room, maybe even making the Sergeant clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush for a few months for good measure. Ghost probably wouldn't even deny it, and would wait for you to come to him... and whatever happens next is a mystery ;))

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

*Ahh my fellow Scot - just to preface, Scottish slang and dialects vary across the country and I'm not 100% sure where Soap is originally from, so I'm just going to improvise and use local slang from where I'm from ~*

My guy wears his heart on his sleeve - he's naturally very flirty with you from the get-go, so it wasn't hard to figure out that he fancied you.

"Hello, Darlin', if yer wantin' a tour of the base, don't be feert* to gie me a shout ;D" [feert = afraid] [gie me a shout = ask me; gie = give].

With his flirty nature, it was difficult to discern if he was actually being serious about liking you, or if he was just flirty with everyone.

He'd probably realise that he was going about things completely wrong, and would make normal, friendly conversation to get to know you - he just wants to prove that he's a good guy and not a raging hornball :(

The longer time goes on, he starts to tell you more about his life outside of the SAS - he comes from a big family, he's the youngest sibling, his favourite colour, etc.

I can absolutely see his chest puff up a bit with pride when you compliment his skills - he disposes bombs and risks his life all the time, its his job and he doesn't expect praise other than a curt "good work" from his superiors; but from you, the tips of his ears are turning red, and a smile is practically splitting his face ~

Definitely doesn't use the excuse of training to get some time alone with you - not in a creepy way, he just likes spending one-on-one time with you.

If he really trusts you, he asks you to help trim his hair - he did do his mohawk mostly by himself but trying to do the back of his head on his own was an actual nightmare.

Likes watching the look of concentration on your face as you make sure that his hair is even - winks at you when you catch him staring~

(Y/N): There we go - a job well-done, if I do say so myself.

Johnny: *just admiring your smiling face, smitten*

Would probably ask you out then and there, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Certified Best Boy™.

Captain John Price

This guy doesn't fuck around - he's older, mature, and knows what he feels, and straight up tells you.

He'd call you into his office for a "chat" - queue you absolutely shitting yourself, being called for a chat with your superior in any circumstance automatically has you going through everything you've ever done prior to this moment to see what he could be mad about...

If you were a Private or any rank beneath him, he probably might hesitate to tell you a bit; HR really wouldn't like it but then again they wouldn't need to know... ;))

If you were a medic, nurse, doctor or civilian, he wouldn't hesitate to tell you.

The Team wouldn't know he even had a crush on you - even if you were on base, as a soldier or medic, they wouldn't have a clue.

The only time they grew suspicious was after they had all been to the pub and after a few too many drinks, one of the new recruits started talking about you and how he thought you were fit; Price's eye twitched slightly, eyeing the recruit with a poker face but with a slightly flash of anger in his eyes, cigar between his teeth.

"Bit inappropriate to speak of a comrade like that, Private, don't you think?" The Private sheepishly let out an apology.

Gaz and Soap gave each other a knowing side-eye; Soap looked to Ghost, who stared back blankly - he'd figured out that the Captain liked you ages ago, he was just waiting on everyone else catching up.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I see him as another guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, so to speak.

I think he's the silent type though - while Johnny will flirt with you openly, regardless of where he is or who he's around, I think Kyle would be more discrete about it.

At first, it would be the little things like making you your favourite tea when he's making his own cup - sometimes he'll just make you your own, delivering it to you with a little smile.

He even offers to spar with you during training - he wouldn't go easy on you but he would be missing the usual fire that he has when training with other members of the team, he doesn't want to hurt you :((

As he gets more comfortable with you, and you with him, he absolutely loves to wind you up.

I think he'd be a genuinely funny guy, so be prepared to laugh until your sides hurt.

He'd probably express his feelings for you in a cheesy but still down-right cute way; probably shows up at your door with flowers and asks you out on a date.

((Proud Dad™ Price is just around the corner))

König

Another certified Best Boy™.

Honestly, he probably didn't speak to you at all for the longest time - not because he was intentionally trying to be rude but because if he feels like he has nothing good to say, then he just won't speak at all.

His social anxiety probably fluctuates day-to-day; one day he feels alright, can make small talk with others on base and do whatever he needs to do. But then the next day, he won't leave his room unless he has to, and when he does he's just this hulking mass of poorly concealed anxiety.

I think his anxiety would probably accidentally be projected outwards and would make him appear more intimidating, especially when all people can see are his eyes underneath his hood. Poor baby :(

He definitely knew that he had a crush on you - he's anxious in social settings, crowds, and he knows what that feels like - but with you? He gets full-on butterflies and he's scared to speak in case he says something embarrassing.

You'd most likely have to make conversation first, keeping it casual as to not scare him off - ironic, since the man is over 6ft and is built like a brick shithouse.

It would take time but he'd slowly open up bit by bit.

The first time you saw him out in the field - completely different ballgame entirely.

Who is this guy and what has he done with Konig??

He probably confesses his feelings on the way back from a mission, still high on adrenaline and confidence.

Oh he absolutely full-on panics when the adrenaline wears off and the penny finally drops...but he meant what he said. He really likes you, Maus.

[theminecraftbee]

for anyone wondering where i've been: i got... distracted... by a potential huge project. I was considering running a mcrp project/smp project, inspired by stuff like fan life series servers, with the rest of the sexyman team! but... a different one. a very specific one, even.

now, I'm aware there are probably outstanding questions, so if you're uncertain, please read more event/server details below the cut and see if it interests you!

I don't know anything about Survivor–what would this show even be like?

so if you know nothing about survivor, it's easy to think it's a show about surviving on a deserted island. it is that, but it's not mainly that. survivor, at its heart, is a social deception game, about making close alliances, betraying people, and social dynamics under pressure–hence why i suspect it would be a great fit for mcrp.

the way the show would be structured is this: a certain number of contestants would be placed on a (slightly modified) survival server, set up to be difficult to survive on. they are placed into two "tribes", the teams for the first half of the show. every episode, they would spend time with their tribes bonding, surviving, searching for secrets, and base building. then, they would compete in challenges. the tribe that loses the immunity challenge must go to tribal council, where they vote on which member to send home. this continues with the tribes eventually merging together into one tribe and immunity becoming individual before there are only two contestants left. at that time, they go in front a jury of their former fellow contestants, who will determine who the sole survivor is.

while challenge performance is one key to winning (as it prevents you from being a target in the first place), the other, bigger key, as you can likely see, is forming alliances and voting blocks strategically to get your opponents voted out and yourself kept in. this makes a great vehicle for social emergent storytelling, where narratives emerge about who is honest, who is a liar, who is good at the social game, who is bad at it, and what people will do in order to become sole survivor.

in other words: it's kind of like what current-day mcrp is ALREADY about. except its a gameshow also, and the very construction of the thing is designed to cause tensions by its very nature.

it's great! and you wouldn't be required to know anything about survivor–our host would explain to the audience all of the mechanics as they came up, as would production staff to the players.

You keep calling it "a show"–what do you mean by that?

the result of this project would be an edited youtube series, like survivor, of likely around twelve episodes. each episode would show footage from the game, as well as a lot of "confessionals" shots of the players explaining their opinions, before ending in tribal council! unlike most mcrp series, this would not be a multiple pov affair. it would be one tightly edited project. (this editing, for the record, is the largest overhead; we expect the amount of footage to go through to end up being in the hundreds of hours combined between all the players.)

it's possible that after the show's finale releases we'll release the players to make their own highlights from any footage they take. but the product we're hoping to make is just a single TV show's worth!

what exactly does applying to be a contestant require?

if we get enough interest, once we have enough of the required plugins and builds created and have a better sense of gameplay, we will put out a casting call form. while this will ask a number of questions to help us get to know you as a potential player, you're going to be REQUIRED to have the following things: a tumblr blog that you can link us to, the ability to record an audition tape in minecraft to send to us (so that we can get an idea of what audio we'd be working with, mostly), enough free time for us to be able to schedule recording sessions into, and a willingness to agree to some rules about keeping things secret until the finale airs and about rp etiquette. that's it! there are no other requirements–you don't have to know survivor, you don't have to already do mcyt or stream, you don't have to have friends, none of it, and while we'll ask you for those details, we're going to be looking for a large blend of people from across mcyt! anyone (who can send us mostly clean audio) can be considered!

EDIT: we would ALSO REQUIRE YOU BE AT LEAST 18. sorry i forgot this before! this is for a number of reasons i don't want to get into, but will be prominent on the actual applications.

what exactly would being a production staff member entail?

we're mainly looking for two things in production staff: a willingness to run replaymod for us and act as cameramen by following contestants around getting footage on the actual recording days, and a willingness to work with us on what's likely to be a fairly intense editing and "scripting" period during and after recording, during which we're going to have to scrub through massive amounts of footage and form it into a coherent narrative. we may, depending on how bad we realize we've bitten off more than we can chew, also end up looking for build team members for the production crew. if these things sound fun to you (they sound fun to me god help me), then go ahead and select this option! just know it's mutually exclusive with playing; no one in the production staff will be considered for the contestants. this includes my friends and myself who've already agreed to help me.

these applications would come out before the casting call, since even before casting call we're going to need to do playtests and dry runs and have things mostly ready. so keep an eye out!

will this be run on your blog?

nope we're going to make a new blog (and youtube channel) (and branding!) for this eventually, just want to interest check before we go through all the branding steps. (also, i've even gotten us a specific gmail for this that we will likely end up using for certain communications.)

for now that's all the FAQ i think that is required. let me know if you have more! and i hope you all are interested in this baby of a project that's taken over my mind for the past few weeks!

[megalony]

A Burden On You

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, based on an anon request. I hope you will all like it, any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) has a chronic illness and begins to worry that she may be relying on Evan too much. When she has an accident at home, she's too nervous to tell him or ask for help.

Enjoy.

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

"Happy birthday," A soft grin lit up (Y/n)'s face and she held out the navy blue and silver striped bag in her hand towards Eddie.

She could feel Evan's arms curve around her waist and a shiver flooded down her spine when he tilted his head to the side and kissed her temple. His fingertips ran up and down her hips and his chest pressed down into her back and shoulders, keeping her pinned against his front.

They both watched Eddie spin on his heels and a glimmer of shock fluttered in his eyes while he formed a bright smile. He happily took the present and leaned to the left to place it down on the table before he reached out for them both. He was careful. He always was when he was around (Y/n), just like the rest of the team. Eddie wanted to hug her but he never knew if he might hurt her or cause her some discomfort.

(Y/n) looped her arms around his shoulders, grinning wider when she became wedged in between them both like they were sardines squashed into a tin.

"You made it. How are you?"

"Good, we're good. I've missed you all, and Chris." (Y/n) patted his shoulder before she sank back into Evan's chest and reached down to hold his wrists that were around her waist.

She hadn't seen anyone from the station in weeks and it always made (Y/n) feel bad when she didn't get to see them or have a catch up.

"He's missed you too."

(Y/n) didn't always like socialising. It wasn't easy to be around people whenever she was in the middle of a flare up. She had fibromyalgia. Chronic pains that affected her in hundreds of different ways; little pains that Evan would barely bat an eyelid at, crippled (Y/n) down in agony. Illnesses flared up her pains and made her feel faint. Cold weather sank into her bones and made her stiff muscles even worse. Headaches felt like hammers tapping away at her head until she was sure her skull was caved in.

When her condition flared, it worsened (Y/n)'s sleep and she had a lot of trouble sleeping. She couldn't usually stay asleep for too long which led her to be tired during the days and if she slept for too long, her muscles seized up and it made walking or bending or any general movement almost impossible.

She had been all ready and lined up to attend the station Christmas party until she has a fall. She had been dosed up on painkillers and on the day of the party, (Y/n) could barely walk. Her leg had shooting pains radiating from her hip to her foot and her leg had seized up for days.

"Where is he?" Evan glanced his eyes around the station while he rested his chin on top of (Y/n)'s head and began swaying them from side to side.

He wanted to see Chris but he couldn't spot him anywhere in the station so far.

They had all decided that since Hen and Bobby were on shift today, they would throw Eddie a big party here at the station. Then at least everyone could be here to celebrate and it was a relaxed atmosphere and there was much more space to party.

"Helping Bobby put the candles on the cake. Which reminds me, I've got a bone to pick with you." Eddie pointed his finger at Evan who was trying his best not to grin.

He squeezed (Y/n)'s hip lightly when she leaned her cheek against his neck. He didn't have to look down to know she was grinning because she knew exactly what Evan had done to wind Eddie up. He couldn't simply turn up to the party and give Eddie a present, Evan had to play some sort of trick on him or mess him about in some way. He had had a quiet word with Chris yesterday ready to wind Eddie up.

"Oh?"

"Thanks for telling him I've just turned forty- which I haven't and you know it. He's been running round telling everyone he can't fit enough candles on my cake."

Eddie hadn't been best pleased this morning when Chris woke him up to wish him a happy birthday and suddenly exclaimed that he was forty. It didn't take long for Eddie to work out where Chris had learned that from. But once they arrived here, Chris gave a handful of candles to Bobby and began telling people he didn't have enough candles for how old his dad was. Eddie wasn't near forty yet, he had a decade to go before he would be forty.

"You're welcome old man."

"Buck we're the same age." The smile slipped from Eddie's face as he planted his hands down on his hips and shook his head.

"I'll go grab us some drinks," Evan kept his voice quiet and hovered his lips over the shell of (Y/n)'s ear. He grinned, brushing his nose against her skin as his grin morphed into a smirk when he knew he had riled Eddie up. He let his lips wander down to (Y/n)'s cheek where he pressed another kiss before he unravelled himself from around her and moved towards the stairs.

"He's just trying to wind you up, don't listen to him." (Y/n) patted Eddie's shoulder before she left him to look through his presents that were steadily piling up on the table.

(Y/n) fluttered around the station floor for a little while and had a quick chat with Hen before she moved towards the stairs. She knew Chris would be up there somewhere and she wanted to see and talk to him. It had been two weeks since Chris had been round to stay with her and Evan and (Y/n) was starting to miss him. He was like their nephew, they were his main babysitters and he regarded them as his aunt and uncle.

It took a while to get herself up the stairs. It didn't matter that her pain was on a very good level today, she still felt stiff today and her legs were barely under her control.

Exercise was one of the main things that helped her condition.

And with Evan being hooked on his training and exercise to help with his job, it was something they did together. Evan would go on runs and do hard training in the morning, but when he wasn't at work, he would train in the afternoon with (Y/n) for a while. They went on a lot of walks as well.

(Y/n) needed to keep moving, if she sat or laid down for too long, her muscles would start to seize up and her pain scale would increase. She was usually on the go from the moment she got up until the moment she went to bed. It didn't matter how slow (Y/n) moved or how little she managed to get done in a day, she was always up and about.

Her eyes found Evan before they scouted round and found Chris. While Chris was trying to fit as many candles on the chocolate cake Bobby made as possible, Evan was stood over near the pool table close by the fire pole.

He had two drinks in hand and his hips were slouched back against the pool table that wasn't being used.

A smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips as she advanced towards him, she could draw Evan into a game of pool while Chris was busy in the kitchen. He loved a game and whenever he lost, especially to (Y/n), he would get fired up and they would keep going until he won at least one round. And (Y/n) was feeling good tonight, she was having a good day and felt able to try and beat Evan in a game or two.

She advanced towards him and tried to see who he was with. (Y/n) didn't recognise her. She was probably one of the new recruits, Evan said they'd had quite a few new recruits in and out of the station in the last week or so.

Evan tried to force himself to smile as he leaned his hips a little further back into the pool table until he was almost sitting on it.

This was the part of parties he didn't like; getting dragged into conversations with people he'd rather not talk to. And Evan was programmed to be kind and polite, it was in his nature so he didn't find it easy to walk away or find excuses to leave.

He didn't want to be talking to Lucy.

She wasn't someone Evan was very fond of, she was very full of herself and she didn't fit well with the team. She seemed to want to do things her own way and work on her own rather than work with them all as a team. And the last time they had all been out to a club after work, Lucy had tried to kiss him.

That night had been forgotten. Evan had politely declined and hurried away as fast as he could, and from then onwards, Evan did his best to avoid Lucy. They both tried to be polite and pretend it didn't happen but he didn't want to be around her when she always tried to get a bit too close to him and she didn't understand he didn't want to be around her like this.

"So, you've brought you're girlfriend this time?" Lucy took a long sip of her beer and leaned her right arm out on the balcony rail. The way she tilted her head to the side and smiled made Evan shiver uneasily.

"(Y/n) always comes with me to the station parties." Evan's lips quirked into a dazed, slightly confused smile.

Why was she so surprised? This was a party and families and partners were always invited to tag along. And this party was for Eddie. He was Evan's best friend and therefore he was close to (Y/n). Of course she would be here to see Eddie and celebrate with everyone.

"You didn't bring her to the Christmas party, did you?"

"No, she wasn't very well."

Evan bit the corner of his lip and looked down at his feet. Why was she doing this? Where was she going with this conversation?

Christmas had been difficult for everyone. They had numerous emergencies, all of them had been called in for extra shifts at one point or another. Chris hadn't been very well, he had a bad chest infection which meant Eddie was stressed. And then (Y/n)'s condition had flared up and she could barely walk so Evan had been anxious and desperate to stay home with her to look after her.

He turned up for an hour at the Christmas party, then he went home to stay with (Y/n). It felt better to be at home than trying to party and have a good time when he wasn't feeling the festive mood.

"Oh, Hen mentioned she has fibromyalgia. Isn't that a bit, annoying, for you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Something dangerous burned in Evan's eyes and his smile turned into a broken grimace as he looked down at her. Whatever she was thinking, she best not say it to Evan because he wasn't going to hold his tongue or mince his words here if she went down this road. He wasn't in the mood for someone to start disrespecting his partner.

And the way Lucy leaned back and shrugged her shoulders gave off such a casual vibe that made Evan feel worse. She was openly being rude and stood so normal as if she wasn't doing anything wrong.

"I just mean that you're always looking after her, you're not meant to be her carer Buck, you have a life. It makes her quite a burden on you."

A tremor rattled through (Y/n) and she turned around quickly before Evan realised she had been close enough to hear. Tears burned in her eyes but she pushed them away and coiled her arms around her waist. She needed to move; quickly. Before Evan turned or looked over his shoulder and noticed she was here. (Y/n) couldn't deal with the conversation that would follow if he knew she had just heard that.

Her eyes locked on Chris who had finished adding all the candles he had onto the chocolate cake. She made a beeline towards the kitchen and stood next to him and Bobby, leaning down to kiss his temple when he looked up at her with a grin that made her heart swell.

A single tear traced down her cheek but (Y/n) quickly swiped it away and tried to take a steady breath to control herself.

"Dad's cake."

"He's gonna love it… although I don't know how long it will take him to blow out all those candles." Her voice came out oddly steady considering how uneasy and wobbly she felt.

Was she truly a burden on Evan? (Y/n) did her best not to call him if he was at work and she wasn't well or had a problem. She always told him to go out with the guys from work or his friends even if she didn't feel well enough to join. (Y/n) pushed Evan to do things and live his life and not stop or hang around for her.

At least, that's what she thought she did.

Did she hold Evan back? Did she burden him and make him care for her too much? Was he becoming her carer instead of her partner?

Evan was a busy man, he had a very demanding job and (Y/n) would hate to be a demanding girlfriend who stole his attention and all of his free time. Maybe she needed to try and make sure she didn't rely on him as much. Maybe, if she had another flare up, it would be best to keep it from Evan and try to look after herself. He couldn't always be there to help her and do things for her or look after her; (Y/n) needed to look after herself and put less strain on Evan.

"Listen to me," Evan pushed himself up off the pool table and took a step closer until he was towering over Lucy with a menacing look and a fire burning deep within his eyes. "I don't know who gave you the right to judge, but you need to stop. Now. I'm her partner, so whether or not I look after her- which is something I have every right to do- that's none of your business."

How could she stand there and talk to him like that when she didn't know anything about him and (Y/n)?

If Evan wanted to look after (Y/n) and help her when she was ill, he had every reason and right to do that. (Y/n) never asked, Evan didn't even offer, he just looked after her because he loved her and he wanted to. Evan had a deep rooted sense of wanting to be needed and if he felt needed, he would do everything he could to look out for his family and do anything for them.

He loved (Y/n), he loved looking after her and making sure she was alright and Evan would never want (Y/n) to think she had to cope alone when he was right here.

"Don't talk about my girlfriend like that again."

Evan glared down at Lucy until she held her hands up in surrender and looked down at his chest to avoid his furious gaze.

He turned around and left her standing there before he ripped into her even further and caused a scene. The fire burning in his chest simmered down when he looked across at the kitchen and caught sight of (Y/n). She was stood with one arm around Chris in front of a cake with the most amount of candles on that Evan had ever seen.

Evan leaned over and placed the two cups down on the counter beside the cake before he wrapped an arm around (Y/n)'s waist. His arm curved around her middle so his hand could curl over her hip and he tucked his face into her neck.

He felt the way she shivered when he kissed her neck but when he looked down, his brows furrowed. She was tapping her fingers against the counter and he could see her biting down on her lower lip so much she was almost drawing blood. She was anxious about something.

His head tilted up and he pecked her jaw, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

"Everything okay?"

"Hmm. I'm gonna record you all, Chris wants you to help him give Eddie the cake."

He muttered a quiet 'sounds good' against her jaw and began smoothing his thumb over her hip. He wasn't entirely satisfied that she was alright, it was almost as if Evan could feel the unease radiating off of her and through to him and Evan hated not knowing if something was wrong or upsetting her.

But if she told him everything was alright, Evan wouldn't push the matter. He would take her word for it.

***

Tears streaked down (Y/n)'s face as she raked her hands up and down her thighs and down over her knees. Her eyes were starting to become puffy and sore and it only made her feel worse when she couldn't seem to stop herself from sniffing and letting herself wallow and weep.

Today wasn't a good day.

She had been tired enough to oversleep this morning and while the extra sleep had done her some good, it didn't help her legs. She had woken with knees so stiff they started to throb when she tried to walk about. Pins and needles had raked up and down her left leg from her hip to her knee and had lasted until mid-afternoon.

Everything hurt. (Y/n) didn't know why today she was having a flare up, but everything ached and burned and felt like she was being cut to pieces. Banging her shin on the corner of the couch had left her a crying mess even though it was a light bash. Small pains felt like the end of the world when her fibromyalgia was playing up.

Every hour, (Y/n) had forced herself to get up and move about, just to walk around the apartment and get some movement back. She didn't go on her usual walk outside because she didn't feel up to doing it alone.

Evan was at work until lunchtime tomorrow and when he was at work, (Y/n) usually skipped her daily walk because she hated to go out alone. She knew she wasn't burdening Evan by their daily walk because he loved his exercise so it benefited both of them.

Reaching up, (Y/n) dragged her hands down her face and wiped away the tears as she tried to take a deep breath. She had been laid in bed for just over an hour and she needed to move about. She would be going to sleep soon and sleeping made her stiffness worse so she had to do another lap around the apartment before she settled for the night. (Y/n) already knew she wouldn't be sleeping well tonight, both because she was in too much pain and because Evan wouldn't be here with her.

A silent string of curse words muttered beneath her breath when she started to walk away from the bed.

Her legs were barely moving.

Her left leg had gone back to being numb and useless and her right thigh was shaking when she tried to walk. She was going to have to keep moving for a while now to reduce the pain as much as she could before she went to sleep.

(Y/n)'s left hand grabbed the handrail and her right hand glided down the wall to help ease herself down the stairs.

Sometimes she felt like a little old woman when her legs barely moved and her fingers didn't want to curl or bend or move the right way. She felt like she needed to go up and down the stairs on her bum or her hands and knees. It was utterly humiliating if she was ever at someone else's house during a flare up. Walking and hobbling around like this was bad enough when she had to do this in front of Evan.

It had taken (Y/n) a while to let Evan see her like this, she didn't want him to pity her or look at her any differently.

And he didn't. If she wasn't feeling well, he would walk behind her and hold her hands or her hips and help her up and down the stairs. He would carry her if she asked or if she just gave him that certain look. He loved carrying her around, it was his favourite thing to do.

"No-"

A gasp burned in the back of (Y/n)'s throat when her foot slipped. She barely felt her heel scrape against the lower step but she couldn't hold onto the bannister and hold her weight up to stop her from falling. The pain of her back hitting the stairs blinded her and stopped her breathing but when she slid down to the left and smashed the left side of her chest against three steps, a scream tumbled past her lips.

Her body turned into a trembling, shaking mess on the floor when she finally stopped falling and landed with a horrid slap at the bottom of the stairs.

Her arms shakily coiled into her chest but her breaths burned into another scream and she stretched her arms back out.

Her chest was on fire. It felt like she was laid on hot coals. The pain was horrendous, like a knife stabbing into her ribs. Tingling sensations shot down the base of her spine. She could barely feel her legs except for the spiking pins and needles tearing through her muscles that went right down to her heels which were thudding and felt like pins were prodding at her heels.

Tears began to pour down her face and her wet lips wobbled and bubbled as she tried to breathe but ended up gasping and crying out loudly.

Her fingers were curled into her palms and (Y/n) didn't have enough control or will power to straighten them out. She shuffled her trembling hand around to the right side of her chest beneath her bra strap.

She had broken her ribs.

(Y/n) knew they were broken without having to touch them. She had broken a few bones in her life and she knew her pain levels. Her pain was more concentrated and a lot worse than what other people experienced. Small things were amplified and things like broken bones or torn muscles felt like she had been shredded to pieces.

Inching forwards, (Y/n) tried to slide until her back was no longer wedged against the bottom step.

Moving wasn't going to be easy. She doubted it was even going to be an option right now.

(Y/n) didn't have the energy to drag herself back up the stairs that had now become her enemy.

She wasn't going to crawl into the bathroom around the corner because she couldn't be bothered to dwell in there and cry. There was no energy to try and bandage herself up and patch herself back together.

The sofa was too far away to crawl to and her phone was upstairs on the bed so she couldn't call for help.

No!

No. (Y/n) was not going to call anyone for help. She didn't want paramedics coming round to take her to hospital. She wasn't waiting all through the night in A&E only to have an X-ray and be told she could be bandaged up and sent home with stupid painkillers that never worked to take the edge off. And (Y/n) wasn't calling Maddie and having her friend and sister see her like this. It wouldn't be fair to ruin her night like that.

She couldn't call Evan.

No way could (Y/n) call Evan when he was at work. She wasn't going to panic him and drag him home and make him care for her. He would have to help her back up the stairs and patch her up and console her and (Y/n) was not going to be the burden everyone seemed to think she was. She had to look after herself, Evan wasn't here and he couldn't always come home to look after her.

It didn't matter how much she wanted Evan to come home and hug her right now, she was on her own and that was how things had to stay.

A groan tumbled past her lips when she flopped onto her right ride and heaved herself to lay facing the stairs. Her arms stretched out in front of her so they weren't cocooned to her chest and causing her anymore unnecessary pain. She did what she could to straighten her legs out and stop them from throbbing and aching as much.

Her chin tucked down into her chest and she closed her eyes, despite the tears pouring down her face that would surely flood the apartment soon.

No, (Y/n) would stay here until she felt recovered enough to get herself back upstairs into bed.

***

It took (Y/n) well over fifteen minutes to heave herself up the stairs. It seemed pointless and futile to try getting up during the night when she was throbbing and aching and still drenched in tears. (Y/n) spent the night on the floor. She knew either way she wouldn't be sleeping and she had no effort to climb up the stairs just to lay and cry in bed.

Staying on the floor was easier and let her recover her energy. It was well into the morning by the time she managed to find the will power to start her ascent up the stairs. Her knees bashed and twanged against the steps and it made her whole body shudder each time. Her fingers dug into the steps and she leaned her weight onto the wall as she sat and shuffled up.

When she was up the stairs, She crawled over to the bed and spent another five minutes trying to heave herself up.

It was surprising how quickly sleep overtook (Y/n) once she flopped onto her stomach on the bed. Her body was exhausted. Her chest was in immense agony. Her brain was on last reserves. She had spent the night laid on the floor, unable to sleep and unable to move.

She didn't know what time she managed to get into bed, just that it was late into the morning. And she didn't know how long she slept for, just that it had to of been for a while because she managed to hear the front door opening.

If (Y/n) was more herself and less drained, she would of tried to get up and meet Evan at the door or at the very least, meet him at the top of the stairs. She wanted to get up and move about and stop him from realising something had happened for her to now be in bed at lunchtime. But she was aching and broken and felt too defeated to care.

Her arms curled around Evan's shirt that had been left on the bed and she burrowed her face into his pillow, breathing in his scent to try and stay calm and drowsy. She shuffled down a little until the cover was over her shoulder and mostly hiding her whole body and head from view.

Why couldn't she just disappear?

Why was Evan with her? Why did he love her when she truly was a burden? She was to much effort. Too much hassle. Demanding. In pain. Needy. Everything was wrong with her-

"Babe… baby, where are you?" Evan's sing-song voice rang out through the apartment as he dumped his bag down by the front door and moved towards the living room.

His lips pulled into a frown when he realised the tv wasn't on and (Y/n) wasn't downstairs. He knew her shoes and keys were still by the door along with her bag so she hadn't gone out anywhere. He knew the bathroom and kitchen were empty so he headed up the stairs.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest when he looked around the bedroom. The curtains were still closed; (Y/n) always opened them as soon as she woke up. She loved to look out at the view in the morning, especially on a sunny day like this. The tv was on but it was showing the news. (Y/n) didn't watch the news; she hated it. There was a glass on the floor and juice soaked into the carpet. Clothes and pillows were thrown onto the floor.

What had she been doing?

"Sweetheart, what are you doing? What's up?" Shockwaves rattled through Evan as he moved to kneel down in front of the bed.

He laid his arms out on the bed and carefully peeled back the cover while his chin propped up on his exposed arm. He brushed his finger across (Y/n)'s cheek and swiped his thumb across her lower lip, pulling it gently until she finally opened her eyes to blearily look over at him.

Evan knew her like the back of his hand. Her sleep pattern was always troubled because like Evan struggled to switch off or stay asleep due to his hyperactiveness and his job, (Y/n) struggled due to her fibromyalgia. They had routines to stop her from being in so much pain. She never slept in, especially not this late. She was always up and moving about to keep her muscles loose and working and from seizing up.

"Tired," (Y/n) tilted her head and kissed the palm of Evan's hand which she knew tickled him because his finger twitched against her cheek.

"Couldn't you sleep?" When she shook her head, Evan moved his hand and slowly carded his fingers through her hair. "Well, do you want to get up with me? Maybe a walk will make you feel better?"

They usually had a walk after dinner. Evan knew if (Y/n) stayed in bed for much longer she would feel worse when she eventually tried to get up and he hated to see her in pain. They could have lunch and go for a walk and try to stay busy for the afternoon so she could feel better and sleep well tonight. Evan would be here tonight anyway and she slept better when he was with her, he always knew that.

"Hm."

"Well I'll go grab a shower then we can head out, sound good?" He leaned across to kiss her before he got up and started to rummage around for some fresh clothes.

(Y/n) didn't dare look at her chest when she tried to get changed. Her fingers felt a little less tense than earlier so it was easier to change her shirt but lifting her arms high had her wincing and gasping in pain. She dragged her fingers through her hair and put it up into a loose ponytail but when she dragged her numb feet towards the stairs, shudders ran through her.

What if she fell again? What if she couldn't walk down properly?

(Y/n) didn't want to go downstairs. She didn't want to take the risk and hurt herself again. She didn't want Evan to see her be so stupid and silly and fall like she did last night.

Shivers rolled through her aching muscles and her chest twinged in agony when she looked at the stairs again. Tears welled in her eyes and she suddenly moved to sit down at the top of the stairs. Shuffling down would have to do for now.

She shuffled down one step before she cried out and leaned nearer to the wall. The thumping vibration made her chest jolt and stole the air from her lungs. Her forehead slumped onto the wall and her nails dug into her knees until she was sure she was drawing blood beneath her leggings.

"Baby, you alright up there?" Evan leaned against the bottom of the bannister but his smile faded again when he realised (Y/n) was in tears.

He joggd up the stairs until he was close enough to kneel down in front of her with her knees pressed up into his chest. He smoothed his hands up and down her thighs and kissed her thigh.

"You're really having a bad day, hm? Come on, let's get you down."

(Y/n) didn't want him to help. She didn't want to ask Evan for help, but she wasn't truly asking and he wasn't being put out. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden, but was she being a burden if Evan was only offering to help her down the stairs? He helped her all the time, did that count as being annoying to him?

And she didn't want to go down the stairs on her own. Not after last night. Her body was shaking just at the thought.

(Y/n) momentairely forgot about her damaged ribs until Evan tried to slip his arms around her waist. When he helped her he usually lifted her up and sat her on his hips so he could carry her on his front. He would squeeze her thighs and kiss her neck and tell her he wasn't putting her down until she had kissed him at least a hundred times.

The moment Evan pressed his arms into her sides and placed his hands down on her back, (Y/n) cried out. It was hard not to scream and she choked on a gurgling cry when Evan tensed and froze in front of her.

"What? What did I do?" Panic surged through Evan's voice and he tried to pull back to look down at her but she wouldn't let him.

Her face tucked into his neck and her trembling arms curled around his neck to stop him from trying to move away from her. Evan gulped when he felt (Y/n) begin to whimper into his neck and her shaking broke through into him and made him rock back and forth on the stairs.

"Baby, you're scaring me."

"J-just a bad day… my chest hurts t-that's all."

He didn't believe that, but Evan wasn't going to push the subject here on the stairs. He tried to think how to get her down without touching or hurting her chest.

"Let's try get you down, tell me to stop if you need to." He moved his hands down beneath her bum and cupped the top of her thighs. He leaned his weight backwards and very slowly straightened up to keep his balance so he didn't topple them both backwards down the stairs. Once he was stood up, Evan kept his hands on her bum and turned around to start walking down.

He could still feel the way she was shaking against him and her breaths were fast and shallow against his neck. She wasn't well today and it was worrying him to no end.

(Y/n) braced her hands on his shoulders and slowly uncurled her legs from Evan's hips until she was stood on her feet again.

Her head started to spin and her breaths started to run away without her. Each breath was starting to hurt. It was like taking a proper breath made her ribs splinter and break all over again and the thought had more tears rushing down her face. But she wiped them away and turned towards the door. She needed to put her shoes on and grab her jacket.

A walk would do her some good and hopefully take some of the pain away and make it more bearable. She would grab some painkillers when they came back and dose up so she could breathe and speak and move without worrying Evan. She wasn't going to panic him any more than this.

"We're not going if you're in this much pain. What did you do, bump into the door or something, baby?"

Evan braced his hands on his hips and cocked a hip to the side when (Y/n) looked down at his arm. He knew she tended to focus on his tattoos to distract herself when she couldn't look him in the eye.

"I'm okay. I need to keep moving, let's go on a walk." (Y/n) swiped the remaining tears from her face and tried to take proper breaths to calm herself down.

Anger tore through Evan when he watched (Y/n) turn her back on him and move towards the door. She wasn't well, he could see it. He could see the way she was still breathing fast and shallow and she was shuffling rather than walking. Her legs must be stiff and him touching her chest made her cry. Something wasn't right and she wasn't telling him.

When (Y/n) leaned down to pick up her shoe, Evan saw the way she winced and moved a hand to cradle her side but even her light touch seemed to burn her and make her whimper.

He wasn't playing this game.

Evan kept his steps light and agile and the moment he stood behind (Y/n), he didn't give her chance to argue or try and ward him away.

"Evan-"

A shriek tore past (Y/n)'s lips and she leaned forward to brace her hand on the wall when she felt Evan behind her. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up before she could stop him. He pulled it up to her shoulders and let the hem of her shirt fold over her shoulders and neck so he could see what she was trying to hide from him.

"Evan, I- I-"

"What the fuck happened to you?!" His hands hovered over her sides but he didn't dare touch her. He let her turn around in front of him and it let him see the damage more clearly. Bruising had bloomed all along her back and around the left side of her chest. Various colours ranging from black to purple to splotches of red and brown. She was a canvas that had been splattered with paint.

What had she done? What happened while he had been at work? Why on Earth didn't she call him?

A small knock to any part of (Y/n)'s body caused her immense pain so Evan couldn't imagine the agony she was going through with these kinds of bruises.

"What. Happened?" Evan held (Y/n)'s chin between his thumb and finger and tilted her head up so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. He could feel his resolve crumbling when tears started to drench down her face but he wasn't budging until she told him what had gone on here.

"I fell."

"You fell? Fell into what, baby? This is bad… Christ baby girl this is real bad." Evan crouched down in front of her and moved his hands to hold her hips. He kissed her stomach and felt a shiver tear through her abdomen before he looked around her chest. He tried to dance his fingertips along her chest as delicately as he could. Evan knew she was sensitive at the best of times but even more so when she was hurt.

He didn't want to touch her and add any more pain, but he wanted to see the extent of her damage. The way she cringed and cried out and grabbed his shoulders made Evan feel tears welling up in his own eyes.

"I think you've definitely broken a few… come on, talk to me."

(Y/n) stayed silent, rolling her lips together as she moved one hand to point towards the stairs.

"What… oh- fuck no. You fell down the stairs?" Evan pulled back up and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Why the Hell didn't you call me? Baby you've broken your ribs, you could have broken your neck why wouldn't you call me to come home? Why didn't you tell me when I came in?"

Tears traced down (Y/n)'s face before she could stop herself and her hands moved up to cover her face. She could feel each shallow breath panting into the palm of her hands and her tears soaked into her fingers. She didn't want to be doing this. She didn't want to be crying her eyes out in front of Evan like this, but she couldn't stop herself.

She couldn't seem to do anything right. All she did seemed to go wrong or make things worse and now she had panicked and upset Evan when that was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Baby why didn't you call me-"

"Because I'm not being a burden to you!"

(Y/n) dropped her hands back down before she smoothed them up and down her thighs to try and stop them from shaking and sweating. She could feel herself hiccupping through her words and her chest felt like it was shredded to pieces with each fast breath she panted.

But it was the look in Evan's eyes that made her heart drop down to the pit of her stomach.

His blue eyes seemed to turn five shades darker until they were navy blue, bordering on black. Redness swelled beneath his eyes and a sheet of crimson burned along his neck and flushed his face.

His brows furrowed and he seemed to straighten up and become taller at the same time as he took a step back.

Evan didn't understand. What had he done to give her that impression? What did he say to her out of context or in passing or without thinking that made (Y/n) wonder if she had become a burden to him? Whatever he had done, he didn't mean it. Evan never wanted her to have that kind of impression and he thought he had done everything right so she wouldn't ever think like that.

"Why would you say that?" The utter defeat in Evan's voice made a sob burn at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she tilted her head back as if it would somehow push all the tears to the back of her head.

"Because I am."

"What did I do?" His question left her stumped. Their conversations had shifted, he was on a different track completely. "What did I say to make you think that?"

(Y/n) moved her hands and tangled her trembling fingers together, shaking her hands out to try and release some nervous energy but it only made her fingers ache. Why was Evan on that track? He had never done anything that made her feel like she was a burden to him and she had never said something like this to him before. (Y/n) would never want Evan to think that way because there was nothing he could do that would make her think bad of him. Ever.

"Evan…" Her wrist swiped beneath her eye and collected a fresh stream of tears. "Everyone sees it. T-they see how I burden you… I can't rely on you for everything and keep doing this to you."

"Who the fuck told you that?"

Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip deep enough to draw specks of blood that pooled around her tongue and made her cringe. She could barely see Evan due to the tears cascading down her face and she wasn't sure she wanted to see his reaction either.

Her head tilted back to look up at the high ceiling above them when she whispered "Eddie's party."

A gasp tumbled past her swollen lips when Evan's hands suddenly cupped her face. She didn't hear or see him move. He stood directly in front of her, close enough that (Y/n) could feel each turbulent breath that fanned past his lips and mingled with her own. She could feel his rough chest rising and falling less than a centimetre away from her own and she couldn't look anywhere but at his eyes when he tilted her head back.

His thumbs glided across her burning face just beneath her eyes and he brushed the tip of his nose against hers until her breathing hitched and her nose twitched and tickled.

"That was one person who knows nothing about us. Baby, no one else thinks like that, no one else is that warped and stupid. What she came out with doesn't matter-"

"It does! Evan you… you shouldn't have to be my carer-"

"The only thing that matters here is us. If I tell you I wanna look after you then I will and no one can say shit about it. You're not making me do anything. If I wanna carry you up and down those stairs for the rest of my life, I'll do it. If I wanna stay home and help you when you're having a rough day, that's my choice. No one is forcing me to do anything, I look after my girl because I love you."

There was nothing anyone could say that would make Evan feel differently about this or make him see things differently.

Lucy had no right to say what she did and he wished to God that (Y/n) hadn't heard, or that she had at least listened to what he said in retaliation.

It didn't matter what anyone said because they weren't in this relationship. Evan wanted to look after (Y/n) when she was ill, he wanted to stay home and make sure she was resting and had her meds and he wanted to help her go on walks and exercise to feel better. He wanted to pick her up when she couldn't climb the stairs herself. Evan wanted to stay home with her rather than go out alone and have a boring time he would regret.

Evan was never going to regret staying home with (Y/n) or helping her or looking after her because he loved her and he saw caring for her as a sign of his love. It wasn't a habit or a ritual or a job he had to do.

Nothing would make him see this situation any differently.

"You should have called me."

"And say what? Evan you're a fireman, I c- I can't make you come home when you're at work and your job is important-"

"(Y/n) you're important too!" His tone and pitch took (Y/n) by surprise and she shuddered when his thumbs pressed into her cheekbones so he could get her to look at him again. "If you have a fall and you're hurt, then I expect you to call me. I don't want you hiding things like this from me. My job is just that, it's a job and it doesn't mean more to me than my family."

If she got hurt, Evan wanted to know. He wanted her to call him whether she was crying or screaming or half passed out on the floor. Evan wanted her to ring him and tell him she was injured and she needed help. He wanted to be the one to help her and if he couldn't come home right away, he would make sure someone was there with her.

He didn't want to sit at work being none the wiser that she was hurt. It ground Evan down and made him angry beyond reason that he had been thinking everything was fine when (Y/n) had clearly been in agony, home alone.

She should have called him.

"Promise me you won't try and hide things like this from me."

"I promise," Her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper carried away on the wind, but it was enough for Evan. It was enough to calm the storm raging through his soul and make him finally take a proper, deep breath.

He leaned down and closed the distance between them. Tasting her lips, stealing her breath, swiping his tongue across the little flecks of blood welling up on her lower lip. He let his fingers slide down to curl across the side of her neck while his nose brushed hers and his lips stayed hovering over hers even after they pulled back.

"Now please, let me take you to get checked out."

[ms-demeanor]

Hello! First, I wanted to say thank you for your post about updating software and such. I really appreciated your perspective as someone with ADHD. The way you described your experiences with software frustration was IDENTICAL to my experience, so your post made a lot of sense to me.

Second, (and I hope my question isn't bothering you lol) would you mind explaining why it's important to update/adopt the new software? Like, why isn't there an option that doesn't involve constantly adopting new things? I understand why they'd need to fix stuff like functional bugs/make it compatible with new tech, but is it really necessary to change the user side of things as well?

Sorry if those are stupid questions or they're A Lot for a tumblr rando to ask, I'd just really like to understand because I think it would make it easier to get myself to adopt new stuff if I understand why it's necessary, and the other folks I know that know about computers don't really seem to understand the experience.

Thank you so much again for sharing your wisdom!!

A huge part of it is changing technologies and changing norms; I brought up Windows 8 in that other post and Win8 is a *great* example of user experience changing to match hardware, just in a situation that was an enormous mismatch with the market.

Win8's much-beloathed tiles came about because Microsoft seemed to be anticipating a massive pivot to tablet PCs in nearly all applications. The welcome screen was designed to be friendly to people who were using handheld touchscreens who could tap through various options, and it was meant to require more scrolling and less use of a keyboard.

But most people who the operating system went out to *didn't* have touchscreen tablets or laptops, they had a desktop computer with a mouse and a keyboard.

When that was released, it was Microsoft attempting to keep up with (or anticipate) market trends - they wanted something that was like "the iPad for Microsoft" so Windows 8 was meant to go with Microsoft Surface tablets.

We spent the first month of Win8's launch making it look like Windows 7 for our customers.

You can see the same thing with the centered taskbar on Windows 11; that's very clearly supposed to mimic the dock on apple computers (only you can't pin it anywhere but the bottom of the screen, which sucks).

Some of the visual changes are just trends and various companies trying to keep up with one another.

With software like Adobe I think it's probably based on customer data. The tool layout and the menu dropdowns are likely based on what people are actually looking for, and change based on what other tools people are using. That's likely true for most programs you use - the menu bar at the top of the screen in Word is populated with the options that people use the most; if a function you used to click on all the time is now buried, there's a possibility that people use it less these days for any number of reasons. (I'm currently being driven mildly insane by Teams moving the "attach file" button under a "more" menu instead of as an icon next to the "send message" button, and what this tells me is either that more users are putting emojis in their messages than attachments, or microsoft WANTS people to put more emojis than messages in their attachments).

But focusing on the operating system, since that's the big one:

The thing about OSs is that you interact with them so frequently that any little change seems massive and you get REALLY frustrated when you have to deal with that, but version-to-version most OSs don't change all that much visually and they also don't get released all that frequently. I've been working with windows machines for twelve years and in that time the only OSs that Microsoft has released were 8, 10, and 11. That's only about one OS every four years, which just is not that many. There was a big visual change in the interface between 7 and 8 (and 8 and 8.1, which is more of a 'panicked backing away' than a full release), but otherwise, realistically, Windows 11 still looks a lot like XP.

The second one is a screenshot of my actual computer. The only change I've made to the display is to pin the taskbar to the left side instead of keeping it centered and to fuck around a bit with the colors in the display customization. I haven't added any plugins or tools to get it to look different.

This is actually a pretty good demonstration of things changing based on user behavior too - XP didn't come with a search field in the task bar or the start menu, but later versions of Windows OSs did, because users had gotten used to searching things more in their phones and browsers, so then they learned to search things on their computers.

There are definitely nefarious reasons that software manufacturers change their interfaces. Microsoft has included ads in home versions of their OS and pushed searches through the Microsoft store since Windows 10, as one example. That's shitty and I think it's worthwhile to find the time to shut that down (and to kill various assistants and background tools and stop a lot of stuff that runs at startup).

But if you didn't have any changes, you wouldn't have any changes. I think it's handy to have a search field in the taskbar. I find "settings" (which is newer than control panel) easier to navigate than "control panel." Some of the stuff that got added over time is *good* from a user perspective - you can see that there's a little stopwatch pinned at the bottom of my screen; that's a tool I use daily that wasn't included in previous versions of the OS. I'm glad it got added, even if I'm kind of bummed that my Windows OS doesn't come with Spider Solitaire anymore.

One thing that's helpful to think about when considering software is that nobody *wants* to make clunky, unusable software. People want their software to run well, with few problems, and they want users to like it so that they don't call corporate and kick up a fuss.

When you see these kinds of changes to the user experience, it often reflects something that *you* may not want, but that is desirable to a *LOT* of other people. The primary example I can think of here is trackpad scrolling direction; at some point it became common for trackpads to scroll in the opposite direction that they used to; now the default direction is the one that feels wrong to me, because I grew up scrolling with a mouse, not a screen. People who grew up scrolling on a screen seem to feel that the new direction is a lot more intuitive, so it's the default. Thankfully, that's a setting that's easy to change, so it's a change that I make every time I come across it, but the change was made for a sensible reason, even if that reason was opaque to me at the time I stumbled across it and continues to irritate me to this day.

I don't know. I don't want to defend Windows all that much here because I fucking hate Microsoft and definitely prefer using Linux when I'm not at work or using programs that I don't have on Linux. But the thing is that you'll see changes with Linux releases as well.

I wouldn't mind finding a tool that made my desktop look 100% like Windows 95, that would be fun. But we'd probably all be really frustrated if there hadn't been any interface improvements changes since MS-DOS (and people have DEFINITELY been complaining about UX changes at least since then).

Like, I talk about this in terms of backward compatibility sometimes. A lot of people are frustrated that their old computers can't run new software well, and that new computers use so many resources. But the flipside of that is that pretty much nobody wants mobile internet to work the way that it did in 2004 or computers to act the way they did in 1984.

Like. People don't think about it much these days but the "windows" of the Windows Operating system represented a massive change to how people interacted with their computers that plenty of people hated and found unintuitive.

(also take some time to think about the little changes that have happened that you've appreciated or maybe didn't even notice. I used to hate the squiggly line under misspelled words but now I see the utility. Predictive text seems like new technology to me but it's really handy for a lot of people. Right clicking is a UX innovation. Sometimes you have to take the centered task bar in exchange for the built-in timer deck; sometimes you have to lose color-coded files in exchange for a right click.)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Demon-haunted computers are back, baby

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

As a science fiction writer, I am professionally irritated by a lot of sf movies. Not only do those writers get paid a lot more than I do, they insist on including things like "self-destruct" buttons on the bridges of their starships.

Look, I get it. When the evil empire is closing in on your flagship with its secret transdimensional technology, it's important that you keep those secrets out of the emperor's hand. An irrevocable self-destruct switch there on the bridge gets the job done! (It has to be irrevocable, otherwise the baddies'll just swarm the bridge and toggle it off).

But c'mon. If there's a facility built into your spaceship that causes it to explode no matter what the people on the bridge do, that is also a pretty big security risk! What if the bad guy figures out how to hijack the measure that – by design – the people who depend on the spaceship as a matter of life and death can't detect or override?

I mean, sure, you can try to simplify that self-destruct system to make it easier to audit and assure yourself that it doesn't have any bugs in it, but remember Schneier's Law: anyone can design a security system that works so well that they themselves can't think of a flaw in it. That doesn't mean you've made a security system that works – only that you've made a security system that works on people stupider than you.

I know it's weird to be worried about realism in movies that pretend we will ever find a practical means to visit other star systems and shuttle back and forth between them (which we are very, very unlikely to do):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

But this kind of foolishness galls me. It galls me even more when it happens in the real world of technology design, which is why I've spent the past quarter-century being very cross about Digital Rights Management in general, and trusted computing in particular.

It all starts in 2002, when a team from Microsoft visited our offices at EFF to tell us about this new thing they'd dreamed up called "trusted computing":

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/05/trusting-trust/#thompsons-devil

The big idea was to stick a second computer inside your computer, a very secure little co-processor, that you couldn't access directly, let alone reprogram or interfere with. As far as this "trusted platform module" was concerned, you were the enemy. The "trust" in trusted computing was about other people being able to trust your computer, even if they didn't trust you.

So that little TPM would do all kinds of cute tricks. It could observe and produce a cryptographically signed manifest of the entire boot-chain of your computer, which was meant to be an unforgeable certificate attesting to which kind of computer you were running and what software you were running on it. That meant that programs on other computers could decide whether to talk to your computer based on whether they agreed with your choices about which code to run.

This process, called "remote attestation," is generally billed as a way to identify and block computers that have been compromised by malware, or to identify gamers who are running cheats and refuse to play with them. But inevitably it turns into a way to refuse service to computers that have privacy blockers turned on, or are running stream-ripping software, or whose owners are blocking ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

After all, a system that treats the device's owner as an adversary is a natural ally for the owner's other, human adversaries. The rubric for treating the owner as an adversary focuses on the way that users can be fooled by bad people with bad programs. If your computer gets taken over by malicious software, that malware might intercept queries from your antivirus program and send it false data that lulls it into thinking your computer is fine, even as your private data is being plundered and your system is being used to launch malware attacks on others.

These separate, non-user-accessible, non-updateable secure systems serve a nubs of certainty, a remote fortress that observes and faithfully reports on the interior workings of your computer. This separate system can't be user-modifiable or field-updateable, because then malicious software could impersonate the user and disable the security chip.

It's true that compromised computers are a real and terrifying problem. Your computer is privy to your most intimate secrets and an attacker who can turn it against you can harm you in untold ways. But the widespread redesign of out computers to treat us as their enemies gives rise to a range of completely predictable and – I would argue – even worse harms. Building computers that treat their owners as untrusted parties is a system that works well, but fails badly.

First of all, there are the ways that trusted computing is designed to hurt you. The most reliable way to enshittify something is to supply it over a computer that runs programs you can't alter, and that rats you out to third parties if you run counter-programs that disenshittify the service you're using. That's how we get inkjet printers that refuse to use perfectly good third-party ink and cars that refuse to accept perfectly good engine repairs if they are performed by third-party mechanics:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

It's how we get cursed devices and appliances, from the juicer that won't squeeze third-party juice to the insulin pump that won't connect to a third-party continuous glucose monitor:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

But trusted computing doesn't just create an opaque veil between your computer and the programs you use to inspect and control it. Trusted computing creates a no-go zone where programs can change their behavior based on whether they think they're being observed.

The most prominent example of this is Dieselgate, where auto manufacturers murdered hundreds of people by gimmicking their cars to emit illegal amount of NOX. Key to Dieselgate was a program that sought to determine whether it was being observed by regulators (it checked for the telltale signs of the standard test-suite) and changed its behavior to color within the lines.

Software that is seeking to harm the owner of the device that's running it must be able to detect when it is being run inside a simulation, a test-suite, a virtual machine, or any other hallucinatory virtual world. Just as Descartes couldn't know whether anything was real until he assured himself that he could trust his senses, malware is always questing to discover whether it is running in the real universe, or in a simulation created by a wicked god:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/28/descartes-was-an-optimist/#uh-oh

That's why mobile malware uses clever gambits like periodically checking for readings from your device's accelerometer, on the theory that a virtual mobile phone running on a security researcher's test bench won't have the fidelity to generate plausible jiggles to match the real data that comes from a phone in your pocket:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2019/01/google-play-malware-used-phones-motion-sensors-to-conceal-itself/

Sometimes this backfires in absolutely delightful ways. When the Wannacry ransomware was holding the world hostage, the security researcher Marcus Hutchins noticed that its code made reference to a very weird website: iuqerfsodp9ifjaposdfjhgosurijfaewrwergwea.com. Hutchins stood up a website at that address and every Wannacry-infection in the world went instantly dormant:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#the-matrix

It turns out that Wannacry's authors were using that ferkakte URL the same way that mobile malware authors were using accelerometer readings – to fulfill Descartes' imperative to distinguish the Matrix from reality. The malware authors knew that security researchers often ran malicious code inside sandboxes that answered every network query with fake data in hopes of eliciting responses that could be analyzed for weaknesses. So the Wannacry worm would periodically poll this nonexistent website and, if it got an answer, it would assume that it was being monitored by a security researcher and it would retreat to an encrypted blob, ceasing to operate lest it give intelligence to the enemy. When Hutchins put a webserver up at iuqerfsodp9ifjaposdfjhgosurijfaewrwergwea.com, every Wannacry instance in the world was instantly convinced that it was running on an enemy's simulator and withdrew into sulky hibernation.

The arms race to distinguish simulation from reality is critical and the stakes only get higher by the day. Malware abounds, even as our devices grow more intimately woven through our lives. We put our bodies into computers – cars, buildings – and computers inside our bodies. We absolutely want our computers to be able to faithfully convey what's going on inside them.

But we keep running as hard as we can in the opposite direction, leaning harder into secure computing models built on subsystems in our computers that treat us as the threat. Take UEFI, the ubiquitous security system that observes your computer's boot process, halting it if it sees something it doesn't approve of. On the one hand, this has made installing GNU/Linux and other alternative OSes vastly harder across a wide variety of devices. This means that when a vendor end-of-lifes a gadget, no one can make an alternative OS for it, so off the landfill it goes.

It doesn't help that UEFI – and other trusted computing modules – are covered by Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), which makes it a felony to publish information that can bypass or weaken the system. The threat of a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine means that UEFI and other trusted computing systems are understudied, leaving them festering with longstanding bugs:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/09/free-sample/#que-viva

Here's where it gets really bad. If an attacker can get inside UEFI, they can run malicious software that – by design – no program running on our computers can detect or block. That badware is running in "Ring -1" – a zone of privilege that overrides the operating system itself.

Here's the bad news: UEFI malware has already been detected in the wild:

https://securelist.com/cosmicstrand-uefi-firmware-rootkit/106973/

And here's the worst news: researchers have just identified another exploitable UEFI bug, dubbed Pixiefail:

https://blog.quarkslab.com/pixiefail-nine-vulnerabilities-in-tianocores-edk-ii-ipv6-network-stack.html

Writing in Ars Technica, Dan Goodin breaks down Pixiefail, describing how anyone on the same LAN as a vulnerable computer can infect its firmware:

https://arstechnica.com/security/2024/01/new-uefi-vulnerabilities-send-firmware-devs-across-an-entire-ecosystem-scrambling/

That vulnerability extends to computers in a data-center where the attacker has a cloud computing instance. PXE – the system that Pixiefail attacks – isn't widely used in home or office environments, but it's very common in data-centers.

Again, once a computer is exploited with Pixiefail, software running on that computer can't detect or delete the Pixiefail code. When the compromised computer is queried by the operating system, Pixiefail undetectably lies to the OS. "Hey, OS, does this drive have a file called 'pixiefail?'" "Nope." "Hey, OS, are you running a process called 'pixiefail?'" "Nope."

This is a self-destruct switch that's been compromised by the enemy, and which no one on the bridge can de-activate – by design. It's not the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last.

There are models for helping your computer bust out of the Matrix. Back in 2016, Edward Snowden and bunnie Huang prototyped and published source code and schematics for an "introspection engine":

https://assets.pubpub.org/aacpjrja/AgainstTheLaw-CounteringLawfulAbusesofDigitalSurveillance.pdf

This is a single-board computer that lives in an ultraslim shim that you slide between your iPhone's mainboard and its case, leaving a ribbon cable poking out of the SIM slot. This connects to a case that has its own OLED display. The board has leads that physically contact each of the network interfaces on the phone, conveying any data they transit to the screen so that you can observe the data your phone is sending without having to trust your phone.

(I liked this gadget so much that I included it as a major plot point in my 2020 novel Attack Surface, the third book in the Little Brother series):

https://craphound.com/attacksurface/

We don't have to cede control over our devices in order to secure them. Indeed, we can't ever secure them unless we can control them. Self-destruct switches don't belong on the bridge of your spaceship, and trusted computing modules don't belong in your devices.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/17/descartes-delenda-est/#self-destruct-sequence-initiated

Image: Mike (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/stillwellmike/15676883261/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[sanguineterrain]

the teeth you know | dick grayson

Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.

Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!

happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.

the divider

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

Tonight, you dream. 

You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying. 

Except when he's in them.

The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that. 

You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.

You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams. 

You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry. 

"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew. 

He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.

"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."

"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."

Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you. 

"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food." 

Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl. 

"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."

"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."

"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."

Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.

"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound. 

"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity." 

"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”

"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."

He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes. 

You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible. 

(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.) 

"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."

You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything." 

"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."

"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."

"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly. 

"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."

“He treated you well.”

“When I fell in line,” he says.

You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away. 

"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."

You roll your eyes. 

"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."

"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."

"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."

"That's—"

You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light. 

And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor. 

"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."

You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs. 

It's something a queen would wear. 

"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."

"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."

"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."

"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."

Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream. 

"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."

"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man." 

"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says. 

You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"

Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"

"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."

He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”

Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.

But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know. 

And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate. 

"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.” 

But your legs part for him to kneel between. 

"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."

Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one. 

"This is cruel," you whine.

"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”

“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you. 

“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you. 

His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.

It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.

"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."

"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real. 

"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display. 

Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry. 

You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.

"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back. 

He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster. 

You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away. 

"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.

"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."

His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look. 

"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."

You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."

His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.

Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away. 

"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."

"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."

Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.

"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."

The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months. 

You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late. 

Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you. 

You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Alright, here we go

First and foremost I want to talk about what flying bark's animation has meant to me.

In a world where every day I see 2d animation being rejected for cheaper 3d and puppet animation at every turn, Monkie Kid's animation was the one of the first things that gave me hope for the future of 2D animation. I can't tell you how long I've been wanting a 2D animated show, growing up I wanted one so desperately, I craved good animation amongst the stiff 3D and flat storytelling, so when I got it, when Monkie Kid happened, I was so unbelievably happy. It was everything I wanted in a show, gorgeous animation, excellent voice actors, romance free and friendly to my desperate friendship-craving, romance-overstimulated brain and written in a way I enjoyed so much. I struggle to describe exactly how much I’ve adored everything this show has been up until this point. It truly is a masterpiece.

Monkie kid has kept me company during the lowest and roughest points in my life. I got to such a bad place mentally but Monkie Kid’s fast-paced, snappy, detailed, colourful bright animation brought light into my darkest mental times and not only helped me stay connected with people but kept me creating even when I wanted nothing more than to lay on the floor and never move again. I'm aware most of the flying bark team is active on the bird app and none of them are gonna see this most likely but I still just wanted to say thank you. Thank you so much for animating this show, thank you so much for giving it your all. Thank you so much for giving me something I’ve always wanted so perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for keeping me company at my lowest, thank you for sharing your joy of animation so I could catch some of those rays of sunlight and feel a little of that joy too. Thank you for your positivity and good vibes, thank you. 

I know so many people have gotten inspiration from flying bark and I have to add myself to the infinite list. My art has improved so much thanks to their inspiration. My style has developed, I’ve had so much fun, I’ve written some of my favorite works ever based off of expressions that the characters make alone. My last amv I made because I was so grateful for the animation that we'd gotten up to that point. I wanted to showcase, to thank, to appreciate. I didn’t know it would be a goodbye. Words can't describe all that flying bark's animation and even their storyboards have done for me. When nothing could make me happy, monkie kid wormed its way into my brain and somehow kept me in one piece. I know that wouldn’t have been possible without the animation that left me at the edge of my seat, breathless and laughing over how incredible it really was every single time. Every new clip, every new episode I’d pause and rewatch again, I’d rewatch over and over, I’d take screenshots of every goofy background character, I’d screenshot every expression I could, I’d go through episodes frame-by-frame, literally one at a time for hours on end just so i could catch every detail, I’d open my eyes wider and wider to try and take in every bit I could in a way I’ve never been able to do before because there is nothing else out there like monkie kid. There was nothing as fun and as joyful as every single frame that flying bark gave us. And I am going to miss that so much.

The fact that season 4 was a sendoff is so heartbreaking to me, it's hard to describe how devastated I feel knowing something that kept hold of my hand when I was facing hard hard things in my life is suddenly gone. I don’t know how to ever express how important this show has been to me, it’s kept me going and helped me get to a place where I could breathe again. It’s connected me with some of the greatest people I know. It’s given me incredible experiences, introduced me to what animation could be and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt having to say goodbye so suddenly. 

I know this isn’t the end of Monkie Kid as a show. I know season 5 is still coming. And I also know Monkie Kid has lost a huge part of what made it unique and special, a huge part of its heart and soul. Without flying bark it feels like half the show is missing and although I hope I can still support the show, no one can deny the cavern-sized hole that is left by flying bark’s absence in it. The animation team has such an incredibly positive atmosphere around them that just absolutely radiates from the things they create. I am going to miss that so desperately in monkie kid. I’m going to support every other show flying bark works on, I’m still going to love their animation wherever it goes, but I am going to miss it in monkie kid like nothing else I’ve ever missed.

I do have some other thoughts regarding the new changes in monkie kid but I wanted to keep that separate from the actual farewell, so that’ll be it’s own post and I just want to end this by saying thanks for everything Flying Bark you’ve been a real one. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re already being missed so hard it hurts. Keep those good vibes and keep up what you’re doing. You all really are incredible and an inspiration to artists everywhere. We love this show because of the voice actors, because of the writers, because of the music but a great deal of people loved this show because of you. You’ve inspired a community of artists, you’ve inspired me. Thank you flying bark for everything you've given us, you gave it your all and I’m gonna carry the impact you left on me for the rest of my life. 

LOVE YOU FLYING BARK. Here's to a bright future. Thanks for everything <3 

[goldenwilliamson]

more than friends | leah williamson

a/n: please send any recs you have my way! probably most comfortable writing for leah, lucy bronze, mapi leon, and some of the matildas. but feel free to send anything through and i'll see how i go x

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: reader and leah both play for arsenal and england. reader and leah get together after being friends for many years, but they decide to keep it a secret from their teammates. they don't do a very good job though.

word count: 1.2k

You and Leah had been teammates for several years now, playing together at Arsenal, and representing England together since you were just teenagers. It was a strictly platonic friendship as for most of this time you were both in relationships with other people. More recently though, since you were both single, you'd helped each other through your breakups, and had become closer than ever.

You didn't see it coming, but you started to feel yourself developing feelings for your old friend. At first you brushed it off, telling yourself that it was just platonic love. You loved hanging out with Leah, you always had. Upon some reflection though, you started to realise that your feelings were deeper than friendly affection. Every moment with Leah started to carry a new weight. You began to replay every conversation and every touch over and over in your head, dreaming that she would admit she was also harbouring hidden feelings for you.

One night while away on international duties you were rooming with Leah, as you had since you were in U17's together, and after a day of training and team dinner you had sat down on the end of Leah's bed. You decided it was time to tell her. With your heart in your throat, you tried to suppress your anxiety and mumbled your way through a romantic confession. She had laughed at first when you told her, then opened her arms.

"Come here," she told you.

As the two of you embraced she said, "You know, I've been meaning to tell you the same thing."

"Really?" You looked at her, not quite believing it.

"Yeah, but I was too bloody scared, I'm glad you're braver than I am," she said.

You two had spent the rest of the night talking about realising you had feelings for each other, and giggling about how you had both been so scared to act on it. The conversation was sealed with a kiss that made you both wonder what had taken you both so long to get to this point.

While you were ecstatic about having your feelings reciprocated, both of you were nervous to break the news to the girls that you played with. Within teams there is a very unique dynamic that everyone settles into, and you didn't want to do anything to disrupt that. Both of you were also very individual players, and you didn't want your relationship to become a defining part of your football. This was something you both agreed on, as you both felt your relationships with teammates in the past had influenced your play on the field more than you would have liked. Especially once people in the public knew about it.

So you and Leah decided that you would keep it between the two of you for the time being, until you were both 100% ready for it to become a public thing. However, the development in your relationship didn't fly under the radar in the way that you both had hoped it would.

There were whispers among your teammates, people noticing the lingering touches between you and Leah, and the way you looked at each other with such love and adoration every time one of you were speaking. You both were glowing, and the girls knew you too well. People online too had started speculating purely based on some brief interactions you guys had on the pitch.

It all came out one night when a handful of the Arsenal girls were around at Kim Little's house for some dinner and drinks. Leah found it hard to contain her loving touches, letting her hand rest on your leg when you guys were on the lounge, or rubbing circles into your back as you stood around the kitchen counter chatting.

Pizzas were spread out across the dining table for everyone to help themselves to. You grabbed two plates, making up one for yourself and one for Leah. She was speaking with Jen in the backyard when you carried it out to her.

"Here, Lee," you hand it to her and she took it from you with one hand, allowing her other hand to pull you into her side so she could kiss your forehead.

"Thanks baby," Leah said, your heart swelling at the unexpected display of affection.

Your eyes shoot to Jen's face, noting the smirk, and the realisation dawning upon her.

"Oh, are you two...?" Jen asked immediately, knowing what was going on.

You looked at Leah, shaking your head, knowing you couldn't keep it a secret any longer. She nods, and you nod, and you both look back at Jen.

"Yeah," You both say, affirming everyone's suspicions.

"God, Beth was trying to say that there was something going on, but I was saying nah nah, if there was they'd tell us," Jen said, scoffing.

"Bloody Beth, she knows us too well," you say a bit too loudly, alerting the girls inside the house to your conversation.

"You called?" Beth says.

"You knew about this," you says, motioning between you and Leah.

"Oh!" Beth says, seeming caught of guard, "So this is a thing then?"

Leah chuckles, unconsciously letting her arm snake around your waist, "Yeah mate."

"Oh my god," Beth exclaims, sheer joy spreading across her face, "My sweeties, I've been waiting for this."

"What have you been waiting for?" Steph asks, stepping into the conversation.

"Cats out of the bag then," you say, laughing.

"What are we talking about?" Kim calls from across the room.

"Okay, since everyone would like to know," Leah says, raising her voice to invite everyone into your conversation, "Y/N and I are together, we have been for a couple of months."

"Hey, I told you!" Steph says, turning back to point at Kim.

"You love birds were so obvious, why'd it take you so long to tell us?" Beth asks.

You and Leah both look at each other, suddenly unsure of how to answer that question. It all seems redundant now.

"We didn't want it to change anything," you explain.

"You worry worts, as if this would change a thing!" Beth tells you both.

"Thanks Bethany," Leah smiles.

"You guys are perfect for each other, we've all been saying it for ages," Steph says, making everyone laugh.

"It's true, you know," Kim adds in her two cents.

"Thanks guys, sorry we didn't tell you," you say.

"Don't be sorry, we're just happy for ya," Jen says, wrapping her arms around both you and Leah.

"Alright, alright, this is getting sappy. Why don't we sit down and eat," Leah suggests.

"Please," you agree, desperate to have the attention off of you.

The girls all agree too, and you move inside, finding seats on the lounge and on the floor as you dig into the pizza. As everyone is distracted by the food and the game on the telly, Leah leans into you.

"I'm glad we told them," she says.

"Me too," you say, and now that you can kiss Leah without any inhibitions, you do.

You can feel the room fall into silence as you do so before Jen says, "That'll take some getting used to."

"Better get used to it quick Jenny," Leah says, kissing you again, and then planting several kisses all over your face for good measure.

[oharababe]

WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME | MIGUEL O'HARA

✮ premise. . miguel notices that you’re not your usual self. it concerns him that the sunshine he knows you as is losing your light. he decides to get to the point of it and checks on you.

✮ tags. . tired sunshine reader + grumpy concern miguel, light hurt/comfort, afab reader. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ wc. . 3,600

a/n; this piece is reposted from my old blog and originally was supposed to be in two parts. but i've decided to just combine them into one. this fic is a sign to make sure to include self-care in your routine! should have taken my own advice bc now my mental health is delincing. but i am slowly regaining my strength and forcing myself for self-care ♡

“Hey, do you think she’s alright?” 

Miguel glares at the young variants of Spider-People from the holographic screen. As the leader of the society, he’s expected to oversee things. The multiverse and Spider-People are in the building and on missions. He sees Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr in the hallways. Miguel assumes they're going to his office to deliver their mission logs from the mission he gave them. 

Miguel turns to look at the screen; there should be five of them coming back. He stares at the screen a little longer, red eyes hoping to glimpse a familiar figure. You are not with the young variants. 

Pavitr mentions your name and adds, “Perhaps she’s feeling unwell today.” 

“I don’t think I would use ‘unwell’ to describe her today,” Gwen says. “It’s more like she’s—”

“Angry?” Hobie guesses. “On edge? Like the way I would express my anger and hatred to the PMs and oppression of society?”

“Pretty much,” Gwen’s voice trails. “She seems more tired than she usually is. It’s not like her, you know?”

“Maybe we can get her something and check up on her after this.” Miles suggests. 

This shouldn’t surprise Miguel; the mission he gave you wasn’t an easy one. He assigned you to lead the team this time, trusting your abilities and judgement. Outcomes of every mission you come back from bring him neutrally satisfied and at ease. You’re usually the one who updates him about the mission. Hiding nothing from him, even with things that someone in your assigned team has done will make his blood boil. You’re a person Miguel relies on and trusts a lot. He depends on you to keep the multiverse safe, and depending on your presence, to remind him of what he’s fighting for. 

Hearing the young Spider-Heroes talk about your unusual behaviour keeps him attentive. He knows you. Well, everyone in the Alchemax building knows what you’re like. The bright and cheerful spider-heroine, your presence and energy, lightens the room. Everyone in the building would believe that you are a ray of sunshine in human form. Delightful to be around, and everyone comes to you because you give people some sort of comfort. You might as well be the Spider Society’s very own Spider-Sunshine. 

Miguel slowly descended at his preferred pace. He knows that the youngsters are coming to see him, but you’re not. It troubles him and hides it by being inquisitive; “Lyla, what’s the status of her? Has she been injured during the mission?” 

His holographic assistant appears next to him. “There hasn’t been a report of major injuries based on the mission’s footage.” 

“Is she still in the building?” 

“Yes, she is. In her room. She’s asked not to be disturbed.” 

“Miguel!” A female voice echoes. Miguel withholds himself from sighing at being interrupted to ask his assistant more. “We’re back.” 

“Reporting for duty!” Pavitr adds. 

Miguel turns around to see the younger Spider-Men and Spider-Gwen. Though the platform has reached its lowest stop, he’s still towering over the four of them. Looking at Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr from above. “Mission report?” 

“It’s all good, Miguel! We caught the anomaly as planned.”

“The clean-up team arrived on the scene and there were no casualties,” Gwen says. “Though I think I might have to check myself for a chiropractor.” She mumbles, and slowly rotates her right arm, touching her shoulder. 

“Hmph.” Miguel’s eyes bore mindless. Seeing there’s no sight of you irks him a little. After a few seconds of silence, he glances at the four of them. “How is she?”

“She?” Miles’ voice echoes. His eyes widen in realisation, probably because he’s intimidated by the way Miguel is glaring. “She’s uh… she’s okay. She just needs to recharge herself after a hard mission.” 

“Oh, and she said that she’ll send you the log missions,” Gwen says. 

“Good,” his response is simple. The air goes quiet, thoughts in his mind running at the thought of seeing you. Though you didn’t say how she would report back to him about the mission given you’ve retrieved as soon as you got back. “Will she be coming soon in person?”

“Don’t know about that.” Hobi glances. “It seems that she wants to be alone for the day.” 

Miguel lets out a dissatisfied hum. “Alright. You all may go now.” 

The young spider-heroes variants take their exit and soon the room belongs to him alone. 

He was hoping to see you after the mission. And, strangely, he hasn’t seen you in person for the day. The last communication he had with you was when he told you about putting you in charge of a mission to investigate and capture any anomalies in a different Earth multiverse. You sounded as fine as you normally are to him. 

Miguel thinks back to the conversation earlier, about your unusual behaviour. A part of him feels that you are almost acting closed off. Withdrawal. He knows that feeling all too well. “Lyla, are you sure no one was hurt during the mission?”

Lyla gives him an apologetic look and shakes her head. “Nothing, boss-man. Or else the medical team would report it in their system logs.” 

Suddenly there’s a look on her face; her eyes twinkling coyness as her smile widens into a grin. “Are you that worried about her, Miguel?” 

Miguel grumbles and looks away, hoping that his assistant doesn’t see his face twisting in annoyance and somewhat flustered. Today doesn’t seem to be his day that goes according to plans. His mind finds himself back to you again for the nth time. He hates to admit it, but he is concerned about you. Especially when the youngsters said. He just hopes that it’s just your tiredness that could be the reason for it. 

“If she hasn’t sent the mission logs by tomorrow, remind her again of it,” Miguel instructs. “And make today her day off. Make sure no one disturbs her until she’s ready.”

“Hey Miguel, Peter B. is on the call for you.”

Miguel didn’t bother to throw a glance at Lyla next to him. He is anticipating him to call him anyway. Peter is the team leader for the particular mission he was assigned to to save another dimension. “Put him through.”

Peter B’s hologram appears in front of him as Miguel keeps an eye on the surveillance. He can hear his friend’s voice without looking at him. “Hey, Miguel. The mission has gone well today. There’s a bit of damage control that needs to be sorted out, so could you call the Damage Control team?”

“What happened out there?” Miguel’s voice was stern. Even though he can see everything from the Spider Society, he wants to hear it himself from Peter Parker. He notices that a mishap happened that almost changed the canon event. Even though it didn't happen, Miguel couldn’t help but feel annoyance rising in him.

“Well,” he sees Peter touching the back of his neck. There’s hesitation in his expression as Peter glances at him once again. “We managed to dodge the bullet of what happened. You know, prevent the disruption of the canon events. But, Sunny has taken a bit too much at heart. I think she’s having a hard time, Miguel. It looks like she’s struggling.”

Miguel can’t help but raise a brow at him when Peter brings up your name. He tries to conceal the troubled expression on his face. Red eyes stare at Peter for an explanation. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, she’s not, you know, sunny. Not like herself.” Peter says.

Miguel is certain that this isn’t the first time he’s heard about you like that. He remembers the younger Spider-Heroes talking about you the way Peter is talking. About how you seem different. More withdrawn, and quiet, and he noticed that you weren’t as engaging as you usually are during missions. 

“Alright, thanks, Peter. The Damage Control team will be with you shortly.”

Peter B. nods then his hologram disappears. Miguel looks back at the surveillance footage and watches you on the screen. Swinging from one place to another and throwing punches and kicks at the enemy. You’re a fighter and a well-trained one too. But he notices something different about the way you carry yourself in the fights. It’s swift, aggressive, and full of anger from the movements of your body. Miguel has never seen you fight like that before. You look unstoppable. 

He needs to see you and have a word with you. 

* * * * *

The mission you were given annoys you greatly. 

Even though you and your teammates have captured another multiverse villain, you do not still feel well about it. You mess up on several things; the villain was close to escaping, a child who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time almost got killed on the crime scene, and you snapped at one of your Spider teammates over the littlest things. Which you rarely do and you don’t usually do . 

But today you’re in all sorts of places and you hate it. 

The portal opens up to a familiar environment of the Spider Society HQ on Earth-928. You’re the first one to walk out, followed by your teammates. The heavy silence and brooding air feel too thick and you feel that you’re part of the cause for it. 

You walk into the headquarters intending to head towards a place that you’ve been frequently to the past few weeks. The training has become your haven to take out whatever you’re feeling. Except that with every punch, force, kick and flinging things around, you feel vexed—agitated and aggressive. And it’s been becoming more of that recently. 

You punch the bag harder. Faster. Harder and faster until you let the aggression take over you as you hit the bag simultaneously. Gritting your teeth as you focus on nothing but the urge to hit something.  

Bam, bam, bam! Why can’t you get your head in the game? 

“Hey, girl!” 

The bag hits you in the face and almost knocks you over. That snaps you from your torturing thoughts but you just want to be alone. You don’t bother looking at the person, recognising their voice. “Blowing off some steam?” Lyla says in a fun and playful tone. 

“What do you need, Lyla?” You ask, breathing shallowly. Your head spins a little – it’s been like that for a while – but you ignore the feeling. Thinking about what to beat up next. 

“Miguel wants to see you. He’s in the surveillance room.” 

You freeze when Lyla tells you that; he’s the last person you want to see right now. A gut feeling tells you that you know what this is all about and it doesn’t make it any better. You know you can’t avoid this especially if Miguel wants to see you. The week is getting worse for you. 

“Tell him that I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” You say, needing to take a shower and freshen up for another dreadful day for you. You glance at the holographic assistant. “How is he feeling today?”

“The usual– grumpy and serious.” Lyla nods. “Make haste then.” 

You let the cold water run down your skin and body. The time you spend in the shower did help you a little to mentally prepare yourself. When you’re done, you make your way to the surveillance room, where Miguel usually copes himself. The room starts dark but soon there are orange and red fluorescent lights emitting from the screen as you walk deeper into the room. 

Miguel has his back on you. His muscular, broad shoulders are the first thing you catch sight of as you enter his territory. You can never read Miguel and right this moment, you wish that you could. 

“Sunny.” 

You stay still, hearing your name being called out. Miguel’s voice booms in the large room. “What happened? A disruption of canon almost happened.” 

“I–” You begin, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You’re not sure how to explain yourself to him as you think back to what happened during the mission. Deep down, you know that you lost focus back there and nearly jeopardised the mission. And potentially the livelihood of others. “I’m sorry.” You lower your gaze, your voice like a whisper. 

“Don’t make the same mistake next time,” Miguel stearns. His red gaze feels sharp on your skin. His tone doesn’t help either and adds fuel to your unsettling emotions.  

“It won’t.” You glare at him. A tone of determination and subtle displeasure that you can’t help but feel. And yet, you have to keep your emotions in check or else you will be questioned. You feel yourself on thin ice with Miguel at this moment. 

The Spider-Man leader narrows his eyes down at you. You don’t look at him just yet but you can tell that he’s looking at you. Gawking at your body language. “Is there a problem?” Miguel asks. 

“It’s nothing.” You say once again. This time you look at him in the eye with a solemn stare. Hoping that he wouldn’t press on further. You just want to be left alone at this point and one of your hands starts to tremble slightly. With another beat of silence, you force yourself to speak up more, this time hoping that it would sound convincing. “I’ll do better next time.” 

Miguel could only look at you before he turned away. His back is facing you. “You can leave. And I want you to send over your report of what happened.” 

You didn’t say anything more, only giving him a nod. And you leave the room feeling even worse than before with a pounding headache and palpating heart. 

* * * * *

Your behaviour certainly sets him off. 

Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Something is off with you. He thinks about what Peter B. had said to him earlier and he’s starting to see what the man means. His thoughts dwell further back to a week ago when the young Spider-Heroes also talked about their concerns about you. He can see that something is bothering you and that it’s affecting your job. 

But Miguel knows that it’s better not to ask until he gathers more information on why you could be acting this way. 

After spending a couple more hours in the surveillance room, Miguel decides to grab something to eat. He usually doesn’t go to the cafeteria when it is busy and packed. But today, he’s particularly in the mood to move around. And he can feel himself getting hungry for empanadas (he’s told that he gets hangry when he doesn't eat something). 

Miguel makes his way to the headquarters’ cafeteria, walking along the corridor. From a distance, he can hear the crowd of Spider-Heroes socialising. A couple of them notices him and greets Miguel as he joins the queue to be served. He waits in the line as he minds his own business in mental peace as much as possible. But that’s when he hears a commotion nearby and Miguel turns to look at the scene happening in front of him. 

“Goodness, darling!” Jess frowns. She says your name softly and holds your arms. Her voice laced with worry, “I think you’re having a burnout.” 

Miguel goes still. His red eyes gaze at you from afar, looking at your reaction closely. There is fatigue on your face and your eyes don’t shine like they used to. Your shallow breaths and they sound deep and heavy. His eyes stay on you. Miguel watches as she holds onto your arms to help keep you steady.

You exhale a sigh, brows furrowed a bit. He can see how you’re trying to brush off the worry. “I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

“Make sure you get a proper rest,” Jess tells you. “Take a day off for today.” 

You let yourself go from her grip and only nod. But Miguel knows that you would do the opposite of the suggestion. He’s been there before, especially when he first started out learning about the dire consequences of the Multiverse. He knows the signs of burnout too well and you are certainly demonstrating it. Miguel curses under his breath for not picking up the signs of your struggle– of your burnout when he spoke to you earlier. It was right there in front of him and it went under his radar. 

He watches you leave the cafeteria once the other Spider-Heroes have decided to move on with themselves. You blend in the crowd before disappearing out of sight. His eyes met Jess Drew who was looking at him with a sympathetic expression when their eyes met. You’ve kept quiet about your feelings or whatever you’re going through from everyone. It seems that you don’t wish to talk about it– the dismissive attitude and withdrawn answers. He knows what Jess is trying to tell him. 

Miguel nods in agreement. And he leaves the cafeteria, trailing behind you. He follows you back to your universe when he sets the coordinates to your Earth. A part of him tells him that what he’s doing is out of line. But he tells himself that it’s fine; he’s only doing this to look out for you. That’s what a leader is supposed to do— to check on their subordinates, even though you’re more than that to him. But that’s not the point. 

Miguel continues to stay on his trail behind you. He sees that you’ve gone inside a red-bricked building. He swings himself up to the roof of the building, watching you through the glass roof. There’s no one in the building but you and Miguel spot you walking towards the ringer in the centre of the room. The banging sound of a bag being punched by you echoes in the space. He notices how you seem to take off steam by letting out your physical aggression since this is your second time in the gym. Your punches become faster, so frequent that they ring in his ears a little. 

Miguel sneaks into the building through an open window. You’re still focused on your punches and kicks but knowing that you have spider senses, you must have noticed his presence by now. He sees you break a sweat from the combat exercise as Miguel approaches the boxing ring. He lets you continue throwing punches until you come to a stop and catch your breath. Miguel studies your expression and body language. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were struggling?” 

You stay silent, seemingly lost in your thoughts. Your tone sounds soft and vulnerable, almost hesitant too. But it’s still loud enough for him to hear. “I didn't want it to determine my worth. Or to have it determine my future. If people knew, it would seem as if I'm holding everyone back.” 

Miguel can see in your eyes that you’re pushing yourself despite the neutral facade you put on. The daze looks with the ambitious, strong and tough facade in your eyes. It’s familiar to him because he is like that too.“I would be a liability to the team.” 

He studies your face a little longer, the signs of fatigue and shallow breathing are apparent. You’re even fighting against yourself to keep your eyes open. Scrunching your face as you pinch the bridge of your nose whilst softly panting for air. Shaking off the fatigue, the brain fog. 

“Mariposa tonta.” Miguel sighs. “You’re not a liability to the team. You never were one.” 

You sit on the ground and lean back against the ropes of the ring area. You’re too tired to pretend, too tired to put on a mask that you’re not okay. Your mind spirals in thoughts of self-loathing at how pathetic you look in front of Miguel. You try to hide your face from Miguel by looking down, not wanting him to see your current state. You feel pathetic in front of him. 

“Lyla, put my alerts to ‘do not disturb mode’ unless it’s a live emergency of the multiverse,” Miguel says. 

“Roger that,” Lyla responded. Her physical form materialises nearby with a worried look on her face. “Should I call for the medical team as well?” 

“No need, I'll take it from here.” 

You push yourself up to stand on your feet the second a shadow towers towards you. Your head may be spinning but you still have the capacity and energy to muster whatever thoughts you have. “I don't need help, Miguel.” 

The harsh, cold tone that you jab doesn’t phase him. Knowing that it only comes in a place of stress and guarding your feelings. Miguel remains patient with you, putting on a neutral yet there’s a subtle empathy in his red eyes. “You may think that you don’t need the help, but I want to.” 

You see Miguel holds out his hand in front of you. The mask on him is gone and his red eyes are staring down at you. “Take it one day at a time.” 

His words bring a sense of solace that warms up your heart. You finally take his hand – taking on his offer – your fingers and his interlaced together. You stand up on your feet as Miguel pulls you up, neither of the both of you letting go. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. “For not judging me. Or pushing aside my feelings. ” 

“I’ll take care of you, whether you like it or not.” Miguel tells you in a stern tone. But there’s a hint of soft affection in his words. “I promise.”

[its-time-to-write]

masterlist

i figured it was time to make one. it's in order based on when i wrote it. please, please let me know if a link is broken/mislabeled!!

*82 fics*

All of these are Jamie Tartt x reader

dress

Jamie and Keeley buy you a dress for the benefit gala

three times 'cause i've waited my whole life

secret relationship to engagement

you're losing me

first kid

don't make this any harder

Jamie wants to take you to Brazil, you’re both idiots

would hit him in a heartbeat now

Your ex boyfriend is a footballer and also a douche

silent sleepers

Jamie contemplates your relationship on the team bus

what it is

Jamie is sick ft. Roy

don't go wasting your emotion

Secret relationship + you own a bookshop! Ft. Roy and Keeley

you know, you'll always know me

You’re a famous singer! Congrats!

i don't know how you keep smiling/i'm just choking almost constantly

Jamie’s dad is a douche

i'll still be right next to you my dear

Jamie is a dad

can't really say i'm enjoying it now

Yikes it’s a breakup fic, but happy endings only in this house

mine of you with me

Reader and Jamie go semi-public with their relationship

today's a day like any other

The Tartt family thru the years

there's orange juice in the kitchen

Oof ouch period cramps

i can't breathe without you

Nate kisses you w/o consent

damned if i do give a damn what people say

You’re a theater actress! How exciting!

island made of faith

People think Jamie’s dumb, and he’s not

take your time while you're mine

You’re Roy’s other sister ft. all the Kents

honey, i'll give you all my time

Vienna. Enough said.

feeling fragile can't you tell

Jamie gets hurt

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

Oh no! Some girl kissed Jamie and it wasn’t you! + Colin as the bff

stick together like glitter

Babysitting Phoebe + angst

your mind is not your friend

Angst + comfort after you have a bad hookup

chasing shadows in a grocery line

You’re pretty sure you have a hot stalker

don’t go yet

Tee hee protective Jamie at a club

kicking myself to keep from crying

The morning after your mind is not your friend

i think we could do it if we tried

High school sweethearts reunited after 6 years🥺

i’m glad you exist

You and Jamie go to a wedding

send for me

BREAKING: shit day at work made better by local boyfriend

tell me where to put my love

day off = food + snuggles

bored

The longest angst I’ve ever written. Def not the best angst I’ve ever written.

would it be enough if i never gave you peace

you’ve got baby fever and your pretty sure it’s going to kill your brother

wishing on every one

You own a flower shop. It’s adorable.

lyrical eyes, indigo smile

Bea meets the team for the first time!

something to rely on

You storm the pitch and smooch your bf

flipped the script

Enemies to lovers slow burn (or maybe fast burn, idk)

i fancy you

London Boy by ms. T. Swift

you don’t want to know me

Jamie shows up at your door after s.1 Man City

you’re in the kitchen humming

Post-Mom City

family that i chose

For the child-free girlies!

never wanted you to hate me

Pt. 2 of you don’t want to know me

wonderstruck

BFF Keeley tells you to give her awful ex a chance

in love with an idea

idk it’s like a confession of love? kinda cute

sinking into your worn-out mattress

Touch-deprived therapist! reader

you’re a mansion with a view

just two footballers doing an England promo, nothing to see here

i know what i’m doing

Post-Roy/Jamie locker room hug after Man City

wonder what it’d be like

Jamie tries to win you back

if only love were true

You’re a single mom in dire need of a plus-one

i know now it’ll pass

It’s hard to love someone when you’ve been told you don’t deserve it

the way it goes

The Greyhounds are protective of Jamie

how to love being alive

Idk this one’s like whatever and also supes long

there is happiness

GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE

it’s just wanderlust

Relationship soft launch

glitter on the floor

You like to knit. You also think you’re a comedian.

maybe tomorrow you’ll know

The “he’s a prick to everyone but her” trope

hustling for the good life

I swear this is my last chaptered fic

let’s fall in love for the night

Kent!reader is having a baby

soft hands hit the jagged ground

friends w/benefits

for you, there’ll be no more crying

anxiety at work + bf jamie

smile at me

there was only one bed!!!!

slow motion double vision in rose blush

happy b-day Jamie Tartt

half-moon eyes

it’s just a question!

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

I’m allowed to write what i want, ok???

here in my arms

more Kent!reader + a baby named George

coffee at midnight

prick coach wakes you up bc of your prick boyfriend

healing me fine

Just a lil engagement fic for ya

i don’t know anything

if you’re interested in Bea

right words at the right time

It’s a wedding fic

move fast and keep quiet

boxer!reader + smitten Jamie

not saying you’re in love with me

You meet over Bantr!!!

we could be so good

Jamie comforts you after a bad date

i hold it like a grudge

i don’t even know how to describe this one but u might cry

there for you

sick fic

before you go

physio!reader

you’ll probably date her

chronic illness + childhood friends. gotta love it

feel it burn

Gym anxiety

play it back

Old movies of bb Jamie

ours

Thanksgivinggggg

light in the hallway

MORE Kent!reader

stuck by you

Bad family + good Jamie = fic

please don’t be

five chapters of sadness that definitely isn’t based on personal experience