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[akhil-1]

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[spiritsofts]

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[decolonize-the-everything]

This is not a drill

This is IMPORTANT especially if you live in the USA or use the internet REGULATED by the USA!!!!

Do not scroll. Signal boost. Reblog.

Reblog WITHOUT reading if you really can't right now, I promise all the links and proof are here. People NEED to know this.

( I tried to make this accessible but you can't cater to EVERYONE so please just try your best to get through this or do your own research 🙏)

TLDR: Homeland Security has been tying our social media to our IPs, licenses, posts, emails, selfies, cloud, apps, location, etc through our phones without a warrant using Babel X and will hold that information gathered for 75 years. Certain aspects of it were hushed because law enforcement will/does/has used it and it would give away confidential information about ongoing operations.

This gets renewed in September.

Between this, Agincourt (a VR simulator for cops Directly related to this project), cop city, and widespread demonization of abortions, sex workers, & queer people mixed with qanon/Trumpism, and fascism in Florida, and the return of child labor, & removed abortion rights fresh on our tails it's time for alarms to be raised and it's time for everyone to stop calling us paranoid and start showing up to protest and mutual aid groups.

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

These are the same feds who want to build cop city and recreate civilian houses en masse and use facial recognition. The same feds that want cop city to also be a training ground for police across the country. Cop city where they will build civilian neighborhoods to train in.

Widespread mass surveillance against us.

Now let's cut to some parts of the article. May 17th from Vice:

Customs and Border Protection (CBP) is using an invasive, AI-powered monitoring tool to screen travelers, including U.S. citizens, refugees, and people seeking asylum, which can in some cases link their social media posts to their Social Security number and location data, according to an internal CBP document obtained by Motherboard.

Called Babel X, the system lets a user input a piece of information about a target—their name, email address, or telephone number—and receive a bevy of data in return, according to the document. Results can include their social media posts, linked IP address, employment history, and unique advertising identifiers associated with their mobile phone. The monitoring can apply to U.S. persons, including citizens and permanent residents, as well as refugees and asylum seekers, according to the document.

“Babel data will be used/captured/stored in support of CBP targeting, vetting, operations and analysis,” the document reads. Babel X will be used to “identify potential derogatory and confirmatory information” associated with travelers, persons of interest, and “persons seeking benefits.” The document then says results from Babel X will be stored in other CBP operated systems for 75 years.

"The U.S. government’s ever-expanding social media dragnet is certain to chill people from engaging in protected speech and association online. And CBP’s use of this social media surveillance technology is especially concerning in connection with existing rules requiring millions of visa applicants each year to register their social media handles with the government. As we’ve argued in a related lawsuit, the government simply has no legitimate interest in collecting and retaining such sensitive information on this immense scale,” Carrie DeCell, senior staff attorney at the Knight First Amendment Institute, told Motherboard in an email.

The full list of information that Babel X may provide to CBP analysts is a target’s name, date of birth, address, usernames, email address, phone number, social media content, images, IP address, Social Security number, driver’s license number, employment history, and location data based on geolocation tags in public posts.

Bennett Cyphers, a special advisor to activist

organization the Electronic Frontier Foundation, told Motherboard in an online chat “the data isn’t limited to public posts made under someone’s real name on Facebook or Twitter.”

The document says CBP also has access to AdID information through an add-on called Locate X, which includes smartphone location data. AdID information is data such as a device’s unique advertising ID, which can act as an useful identifier for tracking a phone and, by extension, a person’s movements. Babel Street obtains location information from a long supply chain of data. Ordinary apps installed on peoples’ smartphones provide data to a company called Gravy Analytics, which repackages that location data and sells it to law enforcement agencies via its related company Venntel. But Babel Street also repackages Venntel’s data for its own Locate X product."

The PTA obtained by Motherboard says that Locate X is covered by a separate “commercial telemetry” PTA. CBP denied Motherboard’s FOIA request for a copy of this document, claiming it “would disclose techniques and/or procedures for law enforcement investigations or prosecutions”.

A former Babel Street employee previously told Motherboard how users of Locate X can draw a shape on a map known as a geofence, see all devices Babel Street has data on for that location, and then follow a specific device to see where else it has been.

Cyphers from the EFF added “most of the people whose location data is collected in this way likely have no idea it’s happening.”

CBP has been purchasing access to location data without a warrant, a practice that critics say violates the Fourth Amendment. Under a ruling from the Supreme Court, law enforcement agencies need court approval before accessing location data generated by a cell phone tower; those critics believe this applies to location data generated by smartphone apps too.

“Homeland Security needs to come clean to the American people about how it believes it can legally purchase and use U.S. location data without any kind of court order. Americans' privacy shouldn't depend on whether the government uses a court order or credit card,” Senator Ron Wyden told Motherboard in a statement. “DHS should stop violating Americans' rights, and Congress should pass my bipartisan legislation to prohibit the government's purchase of Americans' data." CBP has refused to tell Congress what legal authority it is following when using commercially bought smartphone location data to track Americans without a warrant.

Neither CBP or Babel Street responded to a request for comment. Motherboard visited the Babel X section of Babel Street’s website on Tuesday. On Wednesday before publication, that product page was replaced with a message that said “page not found.”

Do you know anything else about how Babel X is being used by government or private clients? Do you work for Babel Street? We'd love to hear from you. Using a non-work phone or computer, you can contact Joseph Cox securely on Signal on +44 20 8133 5190, Wickr on josephcox, or email joseph.cox@vice.com.

Wow that sounds bad right.

Be a shame if it got worse.

.

.

It does.

The software (previously Agincourt Solutions) is sold by AI data company Babel Street, was led by Jeffrey Chapman, a former Treasury Department official,, Navy retiree & Earlier in his career a White House aide and intelligence officer at the Department of Defense, according to LinkedIn.

🙃

So what's Agincourt Solutions then right now?

SO FUCKING SUS IN RELATION TO THIS, THATS WHAT

In essence, synthetic BATTLEVR training is a mixture of all three realities – virtual, augmented and physical. It is flexible enough to allow for mission rehearsals of most types and be intuitive enough to make training effective.

Anyway the new CEO of Babel Street (Babel X) as of April is a guy named Michael Southworth and I couldn't find much more on him than that tbh, it's all very vague and missing. That's the most detail I've seen on him.

And the detail says he has a history of tech startups that scanned paperwork and sent it elsewhere, good with numbers, and has a lot of knowledge about cell networks probably.

Every inch more of this I learn as I continue to Google the names and companies popping up... It gets worse.

Monitor phone use. Quit photobombing and filming strangers and for the love of fucking God quit sending apps photos of your actual legal ID to prove your age. Just don't use that site, you'll be fine I swear. And quit posting your private info online. For activists/leftists NO personally identifiable info at least AND DEFINITELY leave your phone at home to Work™!!!

[educational-training-courses]

Microsoft Power Apps is a Power Platform component, that enables business users to automate and create applications that enhance business processes with no or very little code.

[feminist-space]

"Artists have finally had enough with Meta’s predatory AI policies, but Meta’s loss is Cara’s gain. An artist-run, anti-AI social platform, Cara has grown from 40,000 to 650,000 users within the last week, catapulting it to the top of the App Store charts.

Instagram is a necessity for many artists, who use the platform to promote their work and solicit paying clients. But Meta is using public posts to train its generative AI systems, and only European users can opt out, since they’re protected by GDPR laws. Generative AI has become so front-and-center on Meta’s apps that artists reached their breaking point.

“When you put [AI] so much in their face, and then give them the option to opt out, but then increase the friction to opt out… I think that increases their anger level — like, okay now I’ve really had enough,” Jingna Zhang, a renowned photographer and founder of Cara, told TechCrunch.

Cara, which has both a web and mobile app, is like a combination of Instagram and X, but built specifically for artists. On your profile, you can host a portfolio of work, but you can also post updates to your feed like any other microblogging site.

Zhang is perfectly positioned to helm an artist-centric social network, where they can post without the risk of becoming part of a training dataset for AI. Zhang has fought on behalf of artists, recently winning an appeal in a Luxembourg court over a painter who copied one of her photographs, which she shot for Harper’s Bazaar Vietnam.

“Using a different medium was irrelevant. My work being ‘available online’ was irrelevant. Consent was necessary,” Zhang wrote on X.

Zhang and three other artists are also suing Google for allegedly using their copyrighted work to train Imagen, an AI image generator. She’s also a plaintiff in a similar lawsuit against Stability AI, Midjourney, DeviantArt and Runway AI.

“Words can’t describe how dehumanizing it is to see my name used 20,000+ times in MidJourney,” she wrote in an Instagram post. “My life’s work and who I am—reduced to meaningless fodder for a commercial image slot machine.”

Artists are so resistant to AI because the training data behind many of these image generators includes their work without their consent. These models amass such a large swath of artwork by scraping the internet for images, without regard for whether or not those images are copyrighted. It’s a slap in the face for artists – not only are their jobs endangered by AI, but that same AI is often powered by their work.

“When it comes to art, unfortunately, we just come from a fundamentally different perspective and point of view, because on the tech side, you have this strong history of open source, and people are just thinking like, well, you put it out there, so it’s for people to use,” Zhang said. “For artists, it’s a part of our selves and our identity. I would not want my best friend to make a manipulation of my work without asking me. There’s a nuance to how we see things, but I don’t think people understand that the art we do is not a product.”

This commitment to protecting artists from copyright infringement extends to Cara, which partners with the University of Chicago’s Glaze project. By using Glaze, artists who manually apply Glaze to their work on Cara have an added layer of protection against being scraped for AI.

Other projects have also stepped up to defend artists. Spawning AI, an artist-led company, has created an API that allows artists to remove their work from popular datasets. But that opt-out only works if the companies that use those datasets honor artists’ requests. So far, HuggingFace and Stability have agreed to respect Spawning’s Do Not Train registry, but artists’ work cannot be retroactively removed from models that have already been trained.

“I think there is this clash between backgrounds and expectations on what we put on the internet,” Zhang said. “For artists, we want to share our work with the world. We put it online, and we don’t charge people to view this piece of work, but it doesn’t mean that we give up our copyright, or any ownership of our work.”"

Read the rest of the article here:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/06/06/a-social-app-for-creatives-cara-grew-from-40k-to-650k-users-in-a-week-because-artists-are-fed-up-with-metas-ai-policies/

[merakiui]

long-distance love.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, phone sex, obsession, power imbalance, kidnapping, implied (cyber)stalking, non-con touching, characters written as 18+ note - sea witch, the magicord mod you've had intimate online relations with, is closer than you thought.

Sea Witch is a busy man.

His weekly schedules are almost always packed to bursting, each event meticulously arranged into open slots as if aiming to form a perfect puzzle. Times never conflict; he’s particular about how he spends his hours, and very rarely does he allow himself a break. It has always been work, work, work. He’s one of the city’s most affluent, eligible bachelors and yet he’s married to his business. Those who lust after him think it’s a wasteful shame. Azul finds it to be a relief far greater than any he’s ever known. He will never compromise the enterprise he’s built from the ground up just because of some flimsy, fickle feelings.

Originally, he had no interest in Magicord, a messaging platform that grants people from all over the world the chance to congregate on specific servers for mutual interests like anime and gaming. He only downloaded it because Idia Shroud, a fellow friend and business partner, lived and breathed the app, his online presence so profound it was almost like a second home. He’d swipe away notifications from his actual messaging app, too busy in a voice call with his group of dungeon raiders to bother answering important calls.

So he resolved to get on Idia’s level in hopes of improving communication. Although Idia’s level, as Azul often noted, was not exactly a place he wanted to be. While Magicord could be used for business purposes, that wasn’t what drew people in. Azul of all people knew very well which target audiences were being reached with apps like Magicord, and he was not one of them.

“To think I’d stoop as low as this,” Azul had once groused over a phone call with Idia, who was giving him quite a lengthy, not-very-needed-but-also-very-much-needed rundown on Magicord’s inner workings. “I hardly have time to play games, let alone socialize on this…app.”

“Aren’t you always going on about how adaptable you are?” Idia sniped back, not in the mood for normie criticism. The sound of clacking keys could be heard on his end. “And you’re the one who asked. Kinda defeats the purpose of learning if you’re just gonna complain.”

Azul rolled his eyes. “I fail to see the logic in downloading another app just to ensure my messages reach you. Honestly, you ought to start checking your email. Or, at the very least, go through your missed call and text logs.”

Alas, Idia had been stubbornly adamant about his preferences and so, much to his displeasure, Azul was forced to undergo something of a Magicord Training Camp until he emerged a pro. And being a pro meant knowing how to navigate his own profile and toggle between that and Idia’s, which was really the only tip he needed because that was all he’d use the app for.

But Azul has always had an innate itch for wanting to know something from top to bottom, inside-out, and the idea of not knowing every little detail about Magicord drove him insane. If there was an opportunity he could capitalize on, why should he risk squandering it with his elementary-level knowledge? So he spent his rare slivers of free time playing around in there, creating a server and wondering who could ever become so attached to an app when the world beyond the screen was filled with just as many, if not more, social encounters.

His introverted side understood the appeal. In fact, he loved the idea of hiding behind a manufactured persona online. He didn’t have to be Azul Ashengrotto on Magicord. Rather, he could rid himself of his dislikable traits and become an entity—an idea or a concept—rather than a flawed man who others might scrutinize ruthlessly.

So he became Sea Witch, and within just a week he’d constructed quite the comfortable server. The invite link was spread throughout the various branches of Mostro. It would provide employees with an online sanctuary, where they could easily connect should doing so in person prove complicated (as had been the case regarding Idia, which was the sole reason he’d even poured so much time into this effort). Most of all, it gave Azul the chance to keep watch from afar, silently sitting in wait and curating a collection of mostly unimportant intel. Mere gossip, if anything.

But gossip is just as good as the next scandal. He likes to be prepared, a razored edge on all sides.

As far as the company was concerned, no one knew who this Sea Witch character was and no one knew who spread the link. And as far as individual employees knew, this was likely just some overworked intern’s labor of love—a well-crafted server intended to function as a digital gathering place for those exhausted after a long day. And that was mostly true, but all of the potential blackmail he could gather, the information he could glean, and even the people he could keep a closer eye on in an online setting—all of that paled in comparison to the real prize he’d attained. This was of great importance. It was something that altered the course of his life, opened his eyes to the brilliant beauty of a first love.

It was there in that undersea-themed haven where he met you, the one who would add flavorful spice to the once bland, boring meal that was his life. And just after a few weeks of simple, cordial conversation, he realized a single taste of your kind companionship wouldn’t be enough to sate him.

Greedy to a fault, Azul wanted you in your entirety.

Which brings him to the present, where he’s currently leaning back into the expensive leather of his driver’s seat. He’s parked on a silent strip of road, in a more residential part of the city. It’s not very busy here, and his windows are tinted to avoid immediate recognition. Rush hour won’t hit until later, and he’s not due for any conferences. He has time. Plenty of it to spare on this little excursion.

“I wanna meet you, Sea Witch,” you admit, nearly whining through the phone. “Where’re you from? Maybe we’re in the same area.”

Azul smiles at your impatience. You just can’t get enough of him, can you?

Every weekend, you hop into a VC with him and chat for hours on end. At first he simply provided a listening ear when you wished to rant through text or call. You’d voice all sorts of complaints. Azul filed them away in the event that they might be useful in the future, initially intending to use such information to ruin you should you prove to be someone worth ruining. But the more he spent listening and scrawling notes on blank paper, the more he realized you were just overworked and struggling financially.

Upon making these connections and learning all sorts of facts from you regarding your life beyond Magicord, he felt compelled to help. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course, ever the benevolent saint. And you weren’t complaining when he offered to pay you for your time. In exchange for two hours of conversation, he’d provide you with the funds you needed to afford your necessities.

Somehow, throughout many months of give and take—with his giving being on the jaw-droppingly exorbitant side, always one to top his own ludicrous generosity—your hours-long conversations would sink beneath the surface of mere companionship. It was one-sided intimacy. Azul was careful with what he shared, building a mostly secretive profile for himself. He didn’t want to risk tarnishing your fondness for Sea Witch by sharing details that felt more like Azul and less like the effortlessly funny, charming, and eloquent Magicord mod you’d originally made contact with.

You didn’t seem to worry about compromising your own privacy, easily divulging a variety of fun tidbits about your life. You’d share the tiniest of details and he’d eat it up every time, hungering for more than just crumbs. That time you sent him a photo of the octopus macarons you’d bought from a local bakery because you were thinking of him? He remembers it well, and he’s constantly reminded of it when you text him about things you did over the weekend or hobbies you basked in. Sending photos of your houseplants, asking him for his opinion on clothes you were hoping to buy (which he was always more than willing to sponsor; all you needed to do was send the link and he’d purchase it), and even trusting him enough to fall asleep in the VC with him (arguably one of his favorite things about your unique relationship).

And he called it unique not because it was a bad sort of strange. Rather, it was unique in the refreshing sense. He’d never had an online friend before, let alone someone who would so willingly and readily indulge him. Granted, this willingness stemmed from the deal he’d cut with you and so you were really only doing these things for your own gain. But then so was he. It was a relationship built upon necessity. You needed money to survive, and he needed you.

So it was okay to fall into sleazy fantasies. It was all an act anyway, and it wasn’t like you judged him or his preferences. At least, not outright. If you did, it was silent. You were considerate and sweet; and you really did consider him a friend. Or so he hoped. If your casual conversations were any proof, it was obvious there was some sort of enjoyment and trust there.

Friendship or something more, he would have you. Whether that meant in the safety of his pocket, enclosed within his mobile phone forever, or in his penthouse, tucked away in his bedroom—he’d have you.

“I’m from a city, yes,” he answers, purposely cryptic.

“Obviously. Come onnn, Witchy. Don’t you wanna meet me, too?”

“I do, and one day we’ll meet. I promise.”

He listens to your irritated groan and his cock twitches in his slacks. Good god, your voice is a blessing—more heavenly than a cherubic choir.

“One day isn’t today, though.”

“Perhaps not.” He speaks to distract you from the rustling fabric of his pressed suit as his hand strays further. He spies his reflection in the rearview mirror, notes the flash in his irises. If only you were here, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. If only he could slide his own seat as far back as it would go, lie still and serene, and let you climb into his lap to spear yourself on his erection. Genuine leather be damned. He wanted your scent, your essence, your everything engraved into the very interior. “Humor me—if we were to meet right now, what would you like to do?”

“Mm, I’d want to get a good look at the man I’ve been talking to for nine months now.”

“Oh, you’ve kept track?”

“You haven’t?” Your laughter is fluffy and light—authentic amusement. “And I’d want to memorize your face so that I’ll never forget it.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because I’m so curious! You know what I look like—”

“Not entirely,” he interjects, sly and silver-tongued. “You’re a portrait half-finished in my mind. Not yet sketched to completion.”

And it’s true. From your shoulders down, you are a faceless beauty. He’s seen you nearly naked and fully clothed, in frills and lace, in latex and ribbons, in satin and chiffon. And yet, for all of the skin you’ve shown, he can’t place a face (or a real name, for that matter) to your body.

“Okay, poet,” you tease, and he’s already palming himself through the fine fabric of his trousers. “But I’ve still never seen an inch of you. You’ve never even sent a dick pic.”

“You’ve never asked.”

“Can I have one now?”

“Nice try.”

“Asshole!” you gripe, clicking your tongue in disappointment. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I’m aware,” he hums, squeezing himself, his breath coming out faint and haggard.

Yeah, he’s the worst. But then you’re the best at eliciting these sorts of reactions from him. The effect you have on him is utterly enthralling. Your ability to reduce him to a pliable puddle in just a few words—a mere few lighthearted, hollow insults—is truly impressive. He’d feel ashamed of himself if it wasn’t so good.

“You’re probably not even that big.”

“Would you like an exact measurement?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to measure it in person? See how many inches I could fit inside. I’ve been practicing with that dildo you sent me—the one shaped like a tentacle,” you purr, frustratingly coy. He wants your sinful lips wrapped around his dick right now—wants to fuck your throat sore and raw. Wants nothing more than to spill heavy and hot on your tongue so you’ll taste him for days. “If we met up, we could make that happen. Sooo, where’s my Sea Witch from? What part of the world?”

“Patience, angelfish.”

Even though he says so, he’s practically vibrating with excitement as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Soon. So soon. Very, very soon.

And then…

He imagines you rolling your eyes with your next words. “Fine, fine. I’ll be patient. But that’s not gonna stop me from fantasizing.”

“Well, what do you think I look like?”

“Now isn’t that a fun question?” You mull it over. He can tell because you mutter a variety of ums and hmms in that soft, sweet voice of yours. “I think you’re tall and you have a handsome face that matches your equally handsome voice.”

“Yeah?” he encourages, undoing the belt, button, and zip on his pants one-handed. “What else?”

Your giggles filter into his ears, seeming closer than they actually are due to the wireless earbuds he’s wearing. “From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have expensive tastes.”

Sitting in his lavish, one-of-a-kind, custom-made sports car, Azul thinks you would be correct.

“I wonder what gave it away…” he drawls, his voice creeping an octave lower.

He places his phone in the cup holder, reaching to open the glove compartment and retrieving a tiny bottle of lube. Squirting a scant amount on his palm, he fishes himself, throbbing and pathetically hard, out of his boxers. His slick hand is a warm, welcome embrace around his silky-smooth shaft. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Mhm, I wonder. It’s not the fact that you told me I should just buy a designer bag for work when I asked for recommendations. And it’s certainly not your ability to get me lots of nice gifts as if it’s nothing. So maybe it’s just your excessive generosity that makes you seem so rich?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Speaking of that, what do you do for a living?”

“Guess.”

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious… Um… Hm. I think you’re a pilot.”

The whiplash that assumption brings is so seismically jarring he thinks he might go flaccid. Gripping himself with renewed vigor, he slides his fist along his length, slow and perfunctory, picturing you under his desk, your mouth open wide to receive him…

“A pilot… Mm, no, not quite.”

“Aw. My second guess was gonna be a contract killer. They make lots of money.”

“You have quite the wild imagination, angelfish. Even if I was one, do you think I’d admit that to you?”

“Maybe,” you tease. He pictures your smirk as it twists your perfect, pretty lips into something wicked. “For the right price, yeah?”

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

Please. Please keep going. Don’t stop talking. I need to hear you, closer, louder, clearer… More.

“What sort of price would I have to pay to get Sea Witch to spill his secrets?” you muse, your voice a tantalizing curl of syllables, but he suspects you already know the answer to your hypothetical. “I can’t offer you money, so you’d have to settle for something a little more…physical.”

He shivers, nodding his agreement even though you can’t see it. “Physical’s good,” he mumbles, foregoing eloquence in favor of filth. “Much better than—mm—than money…”

“Yeah? All right. Let’s see… You’re well-off and you might or might not be a contract killer. Do you wear suits?”

“I do.”

“Ooh, so you’re one of those contract killers.”

Azul can’t help it; he laughs, the sound tumbling out in a breathy gasp. “I prefer looking nice at all times.”

Languidly, his hand continues its idle pumping. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Even if you’re just going to get messy?”

“Explicate the situation that’s leading me to soil my clothes. Details, angelfish.”

“Well, if you’re a killer who wears suits, you wouldn’t like even the smallest stain. It ruins your image, but if it was me…” You pause, probably for effect, and it works. His back arches with anticipation, fingers closing tighter. “You’d make an exception.”

“I would,” he admits far too quickly. “Always.”

“So you really would out yourself as a killer if I spread my legs for you?”

“No, but I’d let you dirty my suits.”

“Good. They’ll look better on the floor anyway.”

His breath hitches. Fuck, your every word is a siren’s song, leading him deeper into mist-clouded waters. He’d keep you pinned on his cock all day if he could. Why should you continue to work your mundane job when you could spend your precious hours with him instead? He’ll be your job. Seven days a week, during each of the breaks he’ll pencil into his schedules, you can visit him and he can empty all of his stress into you. And you’ll take it because you’re such an obedient sweetheart for him, always so ready to please your master.

He prays you can’t hear the salacious squelch of skin on skin as he works himself towards the edge, but a nastier part of him wants you to listen in so you’ll be reminded that this is your fault. No one else can possibly make him this messy. No one else is capable of rendering him a clumsy, lovestruck fool. You’re probably well aware of these facts, having brought him to this same edge numerous times in the past. Sometimes you would reach that tipping point alongside him, your gasps and groans joining his in an obscene duet.

Neither of you decided upon today’s development, but he thinks—knows—you’re intentionally stringing him along. You want this as much as he does.

“So was I right? You’re totally a contract killer?”

“I’m a businessman, angelfish,” he corrects, a silly, drunken smile softening his jaw. You make him feel so stupid, so warm and fond.

“So basically the same thing. Just as ruthless, no?”

“Please, you wound me. I’m always kind.”

“Ah, so there are others who get this treatment? And I thought I was the only one…”

“You are. No one could ever compare to you.”

He intends to tack my love onto the sentence’s end, but he stops himself. You’re not his love. Not really. You’re his angelfish, sure, but that’s different. That’s just a pet name befitting the aquatic theme he masquerades behind. And you’re not really Azul’s. You’re Sea Witch’s.

It’s Sea Witch you know and love. Beyond that, Azul is just Azul. And he’s nothing like the ideal he’s cultivated on Magicord.

He sighs and forces himself out of the turbulent trenches of his withering self-esteem. Now is not the time to contemplate which version of himself you’d be more preferential to.

You’ll have no choice but to love the real him. Soon.

“Really? I feel so special.” Impressed, you whistle and add, “I’ve gotta make you feel special, too.”

“You already have—”

“Not inside the VC. Come on, Sea Witch, don’t you wanna meet me?”

“I do. I really do,” he babbles dumbly, grinding his thumb into his slit and smearing pre-cum. He grits his teeth and tamps down a colorful word. How he yearns for this to be your hand wrapped around his length, tugging him to that far-off finish line. “I want nothing more than to—t-than to see you, all of you, in person…”

“So what’s stopping you? I could do a lot more in person than I can over the phone.” He has a smart reply for that, but it sticks in his throat. Pitifully, like the rightful debauched mess he is, he groans, low and guttural. “Let me turn the question on you, Sea Witch. If we were to meet today, what would you like to do to me?”

So many things, he thinks, a litany of smutty imagery flickering through his head.

But Sea Witch is classy (most days) and today is one of those instances. Or at least he’s going to make an attempt, however weak it may be.

“Take you to dinner,” he mumbles, executing jerky, quick motions in a daze, his cock weeping for release. He throws his head back, peers up at the interior roof of his car, and inhales sharply. “Take you all over the city if it pleases… I’d spoil you with so much finery—dress you up and then tear every article off…”

“And then?”

“And—god, fuck—wanna be inside you, angelfish… So badly—need you so badly. I wanna feel you and kiss you and hold you.”

He’s unraveling, strings pulled taut and fraying to extremity. Azul bucks into his hand and imagines it’s you, tight and warm, a sweet, snug embrace. He opens and closes his mouth, intending to beg you for more, but all that slips out are the tiniest huffs and grunts. He’s so wrapped up in his own ardor that he almost misses your quiet pants, every breath squeezed out of you as if you’re struggling to withhold your gratuitous moans. And it’s deplorable, really, the way his ears prick at these muffled sounds, the way his cock stands rigidly at attention, the way he’s falling through fragments of filthy fantasies, each one so close and yet impossibly far.

“I want you, too,” you mewl, tone wavering between shameless thrill and some sort of seventh heaven.

He wonders what you’re using to pleasure yourself. Are your fingers, slick and curled, rubbing up against those perfect, pretty spots that have you seeing stars? Or are you using the toys he purchased for your enjoyment? Maybe you’re lowering yourself onto the dildo right now, gummy walls clenching around girthy silicone. And maybe you’re tugging at your nipples, massaging them between the pads of your fingers, or maybe you’ve swapped skin-to-skin for a bullet vibrator instead.

Maybe—just maybe—it’s the mere thought of him that sets your flesh aflame with an intoxicating desire.

“And I want you—” you gasp, and his mind travels to all of the risqué photos you’ve sent, each one saved in a password-protected album on his phone— “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. I want you to show me that no one else can compare to you. I want you to—mmh, hah—to hold me down in bed and fuck me until my legs are sore and I can’t walk.”

I will, he thinks, lashes fluttering on his cheekbones. He strokes himself quickly, chest heaving, tongue near-lolling out of his mouth as he pants like a hound in heat. I’ll do all of that and so much more. I’ll fuck every coherent thought out of your pretty head, keep you just smart enough to rely on me, turn you into the prettiest sea flower who’ll only blossom for me.

“I promise, angelfish. I promise I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he vows, his nerves alight with lustful delight, “and you’ll never know misfortune again.”

“I—oh! I’m close, so close! Please, Sea Witch! Please don’t stop. Please fill me up and make me yours!”

The sheer vulgarity twined through amatory vehemence, coupled with his own hurried pace, has him tumbling down the slope, arousal peaking and spilling over in thick, creamy spurts. He has half a mind to catch his spend before it can ruin the pristine interior of his car, and he blinks down at the semen sullying his palm. Idly, he rubs his fingers together to test the viscosity, wondering how his fluids would look on your face, your stomach, your ass—or even pooling out of your hole in plentiful amounts.

That fantasy is enough to send blood rushing right back to his softening cock, and he wills those thoughts away with logic—complex calculations and the financial forecast for Mostro. There will be plenty of time to indulge in sexual cravings later. He reminds himself of this while he tamps down his zeal, his heart relaxing in his ribs as he sits with the slowly ebbing aftershocks of orgasm.

You seem to be doing much the same, for you’ve gone perfectly quiet.

“Everything all right, angelfish?” he whispers after a few minutes, his breath now evened out.

“Mm, yeah. All good over here. Messy, but good.”

“I’m comforted knowing we’re in the same boat.” He chuckles while fumbling to dig a cotton handkerchief from the depths of his suit jacket. He cleans the cum and residual lube from off his hands and dick before neatly tucking himself away. Soon, there will be no need for this charade. Soon, he can adore all of you from beyond the screen. “Angelfish, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

“What’s up?” you murmur, your own voice settling into its usual cheery cadence. He suspects you’re just putting on an act to sound happier. That will change when you’re reunited in person because it will be real. Because there will be no point in pretending through the phone.

“Well…” Azul smiles, folds and unfolds the sodden handkerchief, and then straightens his posture. He should be on his way now. “Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind it. I’ll tell you later.”

“Whaaat? But you’ve made me so curious now. Don’t just leave me in suspense!”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in that suspense indefinitely.”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying sometimes.”

He knows you don’t mean that.

“I’ll tell you soon, angelfish. Exercise a little patience. There’s no rush.”

“Easy for you to say. You know what it is.”

“That I do, yes.” He hums, considering his next words. “Would it help if I left you with a word of advice?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything.”

“Um. Okay, sure. Hit me. What’s your advice?”

Azul buckles himself in, starting his car via push button. It rumbles to life, smooth and steady. “Don’t fight so much, my dear.”

“Don’t what? Sea Witch, what are you talking—”

Your words are interrupted with a startled yelp. Azul listens to the struggle as if it’s a podcast enjoyed at sunrise. Things are toppled in the chaos; something shatters. He catches the beginnings of a blood-curdling shriek before it’s swiftly silenced. There’s more muffled scuffling before, eventually, absolute peace.

It’s broken by Floyd’s petulant whine. “Maaan, Shrimpy was so difficult. Thought you said they were easy, Azul.”

“Understandably so,” comes Jade’s astute reply. “We did catch them when they were most vulnerable.”

Floyd hums his agreement. “Y’know, Jade, Shrimpy’s kinda cute…”

“They are, aren’t they, Floyd?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, perish it right now,” Azul hisses, features twisting into something dark. “Keep your slimy mitts off of my angelfish.”

There’s an unsettling silence. Azul rolls his eyes. They’re fishing for a reaction he refuses to give.

“Clean up whatever mess you’ve made.” He takes his car out of park and eases into drive. “And don’t let anyone see you. It’ll be a hell of a pain if neighbors make unnecessary reports.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard ya loud and clear.”

“Very well. Farewell for now.”

The call is cut. Azul grips the steering wheel, smug.

Soon waits for him on the horizon. He will not be a minute late.

You wake on a bed, in a spacious bedroom with exquisite floor-to-ceiling windows, many stories up in the clouds. A brightly lit cityscape sprawls beyond the confines of this room, illuminated with the deceptive shine of promise and success. At first it looks foreign. But then you recognize notable buildings, each standing tall and proud amidst the rest, and it occurs to you that you’re in a stranger’s home, in the heart of the big city.

The room itself is plainly colored; it reminds you of a hotel or a room you might find in a real estate catalogue. Perplexed, you sit up and take pause as your unfamiliar surroundings prove to be more frightful than your own confusion.

Pasted to the walls are various printed screenshots from Magicord, each one detailing a conversation of sorts. You stare at the wall behind you, the one in which the bed is currently pushed against, and peer closer at the contents of these messages.

They’re all from you.

Endearing terms you’ve called him in passing. Gentle insults. Lewd flirts. Vents and rants. Photos you’ve sent of very insignificant things—houseplants, meals, clothes. And then there are the photos of your body in skimpy lingerie and cosplay, all taped to the wall like this is some abstract museum of the digital you. The you who, despite being honest most of the time, took solace in the world of Magicord. The you who’d grown close with the mod from that whimsical ocean-themed server. The you who is now trapped, your ankle enclosed in a cuff. There’s a lead that only allows you to meander into the attached bathroom if you so please, and you suspect it’ll pull taut if you try to leave the room.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, your stomach twisting with disgust.

You look down at your clothes—you’re in someone’s collared shirt, intentionally designed to be oversized so that it drapes like a nightgown—and horror prickles your skin.

And then he arrives.

He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a simple white dress shirt, primly tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. You stare for a long moment, studying his features as his familiarity dawns. Your mouth falls open in a muted scream.

He smiles sweetly, stepping further into the amber glow from the bedside lamps. “It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Sea Witch.”

But that’s not what’s shocking about this. The real shock—the thing that has your brain stumbling in an effort to put the pieces together before the picture can crumble—is far more jarring than the kidnapping and the captivity. You find your voice then, and before you can stop yourself the words are falling out in a hurry.

“CEO Ashengrotto?!”

Sea Witch—CEO Ashengrotto—stiffens, his brows furrowing immediately. He gives you a sharp, dangerous look. A look that seems to radiate one unspoken question: Where did you hear that name?

“You… You’re A-Azul Ashengrotto,” you continue, swallowing thick trepidation. “CEO of Mostro. You opened a new restaurant last year—Crave, right? And the menu features celebrity favorites—celebrities like Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche.”

He laughs his disbelief, carding a hand through soft, silvery locks. “How…do you know this?”

“I work there. You visited once with your secretary for quality checks. We even crossed paths.”

Azul gawks, realizes he’s gawking, and clears his throat. “I… I see. Well.” He inhales, holds his breath for three seconds, and exhales. “This makes things rather…awkward.”

“When you said businessman, I didn’t think… I mean, how was I supposed to know? Your voice sounds so different over call than it does in interviews.”

“Of course it does! I never use the same inflection for those things.”

This cannot be real, you think, watching him flounder anxiously. Azul Ashengrotto is Sea Witch. This whole time… Nine entire months… I was talking to the CEO—to the city’s most popular bachelor—and I didn’t even know it. They write articles about this guy! He’s all over the TV! How did I never realize?

And then a very mortifying thought worms its way in: Oh my God. We both know each other’s preferences. He saw so much of me—more than I’d ever want him to see—and I heard too many private things during our calls…

“Let’s just…” You rub circles into your temples to quell the incoming migraine. “Let’s never talk about this again. You can buy my silence and I’ll move on with my life. I’ll even forget all of…” You glance at the Magicord conversations stuck to the wall and then the chain binding your ankle. “All of this…stuff. We’ll agree to call it a misunderstanding and life will be good, yeah?”

The bargain doesn’t seem to reach him. He continues to stare at you, his eyes glazed with an emotion you can’t place. Whatever it is, it’s stormy and dark. You don’t like it, and you shrink away when he steps closer.

“All this time you were right under my nose…”

Azul climbs onto the bed with you, the mattress depressing under the additional weight. Framed by the hypnotic radiance of the skyscrapers climbing heavenward, he’s certainly earned his place in every celebrity gossip magazine you’ve ever read. Articles debating whether he’s secretly committed to a relationship. Articles theorizing what his life plans may have in store for him. Articles discussing whether he’ll ever get married, if he’ll remain single for the rest of his life, if he’ll ever open his heart to the many people who hope to earn his romantic affections.

No one knows it—how could they when he’s so tight-lipped with the paparazzi?—but you are the secret variable the articles have yet to discover. You are the covert partner, the one who has won his heart, the one who now sits shackled on his bed.

What sort of tabloid journalist could ever spin this story?

You scoot further up the bed, your back pressing against the ornately extravagant headboard. Your knees are pulled into your chest, a futile attempt at protection.

“All this time you were so close to me…” He marvels at this, his baby blue hues locked permanently on you. “And neither of us knew. I could’ve had you much sooner had I just realized…”

You blink at him, your heart sinking with every passing second. “Mr. Ashengrotto, what do you mean by that?”

A pout tugs at perfect, pretty lips. “Why so formal, angelfish? We’re much closer than that, surely.” His hands settle upon your knees, gently pulling them apart. Your blood curdles with fear. “There’s no need to be so tense. It’s only me.”

“No… Please wait. Hold on!”

“Hm? If I’m not mistaken, this is what you want. You were rather vocal about your desires. You’ve always been. So why are you looking at me like that? I’m not scary, am I?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Please let me go…”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, his tone patient despite the subject. “You know I can’t do that.”

“But you… You kidnapped me! Y-You had those guys hiding in my home and they…” You shake your head, unable to describe the sheer terror that had overwhelmed you when those creepy twins descended. Hopeless, you open your eyes to give him your most despairing look. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to fall at the slightest prodding.

“Oh, my dear, did they scare you? They’re brutes who know nothing of how to treat a person with adequate care. You needn’t worry anymore. I’m here for you.” He cups your face in a fond hold, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your cheek. “Don’t cry, angelfish. You’re in good hands—my hands. And have they not been the most generous?”

“You’re crazy. Obsessed! How can you think any of this is okay? Look around at the walls! You’ve pasted our conversations everywhere—they’re practically the wallpaper!”

“What of it?” His hand slides down to grip your chin, forcing you to meet him at eye level. “I love you. I have for months now. And if those are the ways you choose to classify my care, so be it.”

Tear trails trace down your face. He leans in to kiss the rivers away, but they morph into the saltiest of seas.

“You may not approve of my affections right this very moment. You may hate me, think I’m monstrous, a culmination of all things foul, but you will love me. In due time, my dear. And when you do, the world will open and the chain will come off and you will know freedom under my roof.”

He has the gall to worship you with a loving smile. It poisons you with newly brewing abhorrence.

“So cry your heart out. Scream and kick up a fit. Do what you must. And when the floods subside, we can learn to love one another. Both at our best and our worst, within and beyond Magicord.”

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part four.

-

Sephiroth's phone isn't a proper smartphone and has no internet, and he's being very brave about it.

Well, it has something. It is… kinda like a half-assed smartphone? Sorta. It's like that old flip phone his grandfather used to use - probably still does, if he's still alive, somewhere in another universe. It was more brick than a phone - no touchscreen, and the closest it got to any kind of smart features was running an email app, somehow. Sephiroth's phone is a bit like it. It has email - or just mail, apparently. It also has tutorials? Which is useful. Also online shopping? But no apps, no search function, no internet, no wikis, no websites, nothing. It doesn't seem to have photo or video options either - but apparently it keeps track of all his missions.

It's like somehow people invented most of everything that goes into a smartphone - but no one got around to inventing the internet, or anything like it. What a waste!

The tutorials are useful, admittedly, though they're more like manuals, really. Not like cultivation manuals, sadly, more like user manuals. "How to use your PHS" and "what key card opens what floor" and "missions, what are missions" and "materia, what is it and how does it work". There's dozens and dozens of tutorials on the phone, just like you might expect to find in a videogame that couldn't trust its users to remember how everything works. 

The mission roster is, uh. It's definitely something. There's categories, subcategories, levels, and then under those there's info and completion status. And Sephiroth, apparently, does a lot of missions. Like. A lot. He kinda despairs at the idea of having to keep up with it, because it looks like Sephiroth is a workaholic. Though, thankfully, half of the missions are training, experiments in the labs, or experimental training. Still! Isn't he supposed to be the Big Bad? Why is he working so hard?!

The shops' menu on the phone, though very bare bones and lacking any pictures, has his heart leaping with joy - as does the adjacent menu detailing Sephiroth's wallet situation. Which is… very good. Like, Shen Qingqiu wasn't exactly short on change either, he was the second Peak Lord of the most powerful sect in the world - but comparing the Gil Sephiroth has to the price of stuff in the various shops listed on his phone…

Sephiroth has that fuck you money. Guess that's what you get from being a workaholic Big Bad, the strongest and scariest in the evil dystopian planet-sucking mega corporation! You get money. And lots of it.

… Which, along with the details of all the clothing stores on his phone, makes his wardrobe situation even sadder, doesn't it? He should've definitely been able to afford a coat that actually fit him.

Ultimately though, what he figures to be most useful is the mail. There's a lot of it, and it looks like mailing lists are all the rage these days. Because Sephiroth's barely got anything else in his inbox.

News mailing list, SOLDIER mailing list, Shinra mailing list - professor Hojo telling him to go to the labs - another news mailing list, Shinra business mailing list, Wutai News mailing list - Genesis telling him to meet him for a spar - another mailing list, mailing list, mailing list - urgent meeting with Director Lazard - and some more mailing lists.

There are not that many personal messages, honestly. A few requests for a spar, and that's about it. Is that all he does for fun? What is Sephiroth, Liu Qingge 2.0? All he does is work and spar! Just skimming through his schedule makes him feel exhausted.

At least thanks to the mailing lists - and phone's bare bones calendar app - he'd figured where he's at, story-wise. Pre-Crisis Core, pre-Genesis' whole thing, pre… just about everything he remembers from each game.

Wutai war is still going on. And, rather distressingly, Sephiroth has a lot of Wutai missions coming up.

That's… not ideal.

Resting the phone against his lips in thought like he once held a fan, he sighs and tries to think it through. 

There's a squeak as the other SOLDIER steps out of the stall. Must've been the door hinges. "Sir," the SOLDIER says, carefully.

"Mn," he answers and tries to look as Sephiroth-like as he can while also projecting an aura of don't talk to me, I don't even know your name at the man. It works, because the man clearly doesn't want to talk to him.

It's very useful, having a villain halo.

The SOLDIER washes his hands like he can't wait to get away and then hesitates at the door. "Sir, I - there's someone -" the SOLDIER says, tentatively and then flounders at his slow blink. "Someone will be here soon."

With that said, the SOLDIER flees before he can think of a suitably Sephiroth-like answer.

Someone will be here soon? …Okay? Why? 

Making a face, he looks around in confusion and notices that one of the bathroom lights is burned out.

Oh, someone will be here for the light? Right, of course, he's the scary Big Bad here, can't subject the scary Big Bad to a less than stellar environment. Heh, guess that's an upgrade of sorts!

He… really didn't want it. 

It's all rather concerning, really. What is he actually supposed to do here? Go on missions, train, clad himself in barely fitting leather with a ridiculous amount of buckles, and go to war? Over building a life-sucking factory? By a vaguely western, very unsubtle Big Oil Allegory, at that. In what was a vaguely Chinese-coded land, too. The whole thing was very iffy, from what he remembers! He doesn't want to get involved!

And then what is he supposed to do, play out Sephiroth's life to its fiery, insane conclusion? Resurrect and then attempt to destroy the world?! Like all the good Big Bads of old! But he isn't even sure when that is supposed to happen! The timeline in these games is super vague!

At least with PIDW there was a very clear end goal, ah! It was awful and trying to survive had given him grey hairs, but there was a clear forward momentum and an end point! If he survived past it, then… then he won? Maybe?

He hadn't survived past it, though.

He'd died.

… Again.

Closing his eyes, he sighs against Sephiroth's phone, shaking his head. Depressing, depressing, it's so depressing! He'd really grown to like his life as Shen Qingqiu too! All his cute disciples, his books on Qing Jing Peak, his art works, all the things he'd got… all the things he'd done… the friends he'd made…

And Binghe…

Ah, his sweet, terrifying Black Lotus. As scary as Binghe had been towards the end, he's really sad he wouldn't be able to see Binghe grow into his own! Reading about the protagonist growing stronger and overcoming all obstacles had been his favourite part. And he'd rather been looking forward to watching it. Safely at a distance, mind you, disguised in another, unknown, body, under a new name and everything. Because if Binghe found out he survived…

Well.

Probably just as well. This is a new world and maybe, just maybe, he can now -

There's a sound that is an awful lot like an explosion, and he nearly drops his phone in shock as the restroom door is nearly blown off its hinges with the force it opens.

"What torment hath your soul suffered," espouses the runaway idol standing dramatically in the doorway, "to find the end of your journey here, of all places?"

In the immortal words of Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky.

W. T. F?

-

No System needed to gamify the world when the world is already a video game!

[littlemssam]

Mod Updates

As always delete old Mods Files and the localthumbcache when updating my Mods!

***

Update for Script Files, so they don't contribute to the script limit anymore. Don’t know about the script limit? Read @mizoreyukii‘s Explanation here 

Anti Heat Pill (Pets)

Extract Fossils at the Archaeology Table

Ask to Go for a Walk & Bath (Dogs)

Auto Employees | Custom Lot Trait

Autonomous Repairs

Call a Babysitter

Better Nanny (Second Nanny & more)

Can i come over?

Change Outfit via Closets, Coat Rack & Wardrobe

Choose Your Roommate

Eco Dishwasher

Entrance Fee on Community Lots | Custom Lot Trait

First Love

Foster Family

Maid & Gardener Service

Gender & More | Custom Lot Trait

Go for a Walk with Dogs will fill up Needs

Hire certain Sims (incl. Family Members) at Restaurants

Hired Employees earn Money (Vet, Retail, Restaurant)

Hire MakeUp Artist & Get Appearance Styling

Improved Meditation Stool

Live in Business

Miscarriage Chance & Abortion

More Buyable Venues and new Venue Types

More Fun Stuff (Motives, Skills, Life Skills & More Overhaul)

More Umbrella Variations in World

More Visitors | Custom Lot Trait

My Pets

No Sick, Dirty, Sad and Hungry Cats & Dogs

Online Learning System

Play your own Tracks as a DJ

30 Minutes Power Workout & 30 Minutes Swimming

Retail Overhaul (Hire certain Employees/Better Shopping as a Customer & more)

Roommates

School Holidays

SimDa Dating App

SimsLootBox

Small Invite to Hang Out Overhaul

Snorkel Everywhere

Spend Weekend With

Sul Sul Weather App

Train your Puppies

Where are you?

Fixed an issue with dirt piles digging

Collectibles (Rock Digging) Rework (Slower/Harder)

Random Bug Fixes:

Missing Channels got party fixed by EA. Still missing is the Weather Channel. Update of Script Files

Missing Channels

Random Small Mods:

Update for Script Files, so they don't contribute to the script limit anymore

No Aging Trait

No Shoes at Home

Release all Ghosts & Get Urn for

Buy Treats via PC

Dogs change into Everyday Outfit after a Walk

Buy Spells and Potions Tomes via PC

Update for Script Files. Added Addon which hides the Interactions in the Shift Click Cheat Menu.

Toddler Don't go to Daycare

Update for Script Files. Reworked Mod to use RouteEvent instead of just inside/outside tests

Change into Everyday when inside

Update for Script Files. Update to Support the Cottage Living "Simple Living" Lot Challenge

Healthy Food On Fridges

***

Translations

Live in Business (Update of Chinese Translations by Licer) More Visitors | Custom Lot Trait (Update of Chinese Translations by Licer) Sul Sul Weather App (Update of Chinese Translations by Licer) Social Activities (Visit Friends, Family and more) (Update of Chinese Translations by Licer) Better Autonomous Homework (Added Chinese Translations by Licer) Gender & More | Custom Lot Trait (Update of Russian Translation by wild_guy) Buy a better Mattress (Better Energy/Comfort on Beds) (Added French Translation by Kimikosoma) Sell via Simbay (Update of Chinese Translations by Licer)

***

Don’t download these Updates if you have the Legacy Edition!

[frienderbee]

THINGS I NOTICED ABOUT 2012 APRIL

[In season 1]

Almost always tends to make the first move in combat, surprisingly aggressive and impulsive. In fact, she sucks at defense in her fight with Karai and doesn't block a single attack.

Is REALLY oblivious to Donnies interest in her- doesn't notice him staring, is often otherwise occupied and brushes him off, she occasionally gives him questioning glances tho

First glimpse of her powers is in the episode with Rockwell as she has a better connection with him as another empath and she figures out he's human. (The description given in that episode about the powers they were hoping the mutagen could give them also describes April's powers in general)

She tends to understate things a lot. "Donnie got beat up by a monkey" (mutant.) "I'm being stalked by a giant pigeon" (mutant) "attacked by an old lady" (the most powerful kraang bot they'd seen by this point. )

There's lots of moments mentioned but not seen of April helping Donnie in the lab.

Biology seems to he her best or favourite subject. It is the one she mentions the most and is seen doing the most. She almost always has her biology textbook with her

She's failing trig

I think this is just lazy animation but she doesn't react as much when not the direct focus of a conversation (compared to the turtles) making her look like she's zoned out

Whenever she's upset she puts her arms around her torso like she's hugging herself. If she's sitting she pulls her legs up to her chest and rests her head on her knees.

Is most physically effectionate when excited, grabs onto the turtles shoulders without thinking. Hugs them (i think only donnie actually) more out of impulse than anything else. Can get very in their personal space when excited about something they're saying too

Whenever she's going undercover and pretending to be a delivery person or cop she puts on a deep voice

She does improve and has her moments in general but she's often a terrible liar. She stutters and looks around awkwardly

She also over acts and struggles to act natural on command ("Well I sure hope no pigeon sneaks up on me!")

Spends enough time one on one with Splinter to rival Leo. This is seen in their individual training sessions they do when the turtles are on missions as well as being implied as something they frequently do off screen.

In her student ID her picture shows her with braces and glasses.

This one's obvious but she's closest with Donnie. He's the only one we see her hug in this season, the only one she's implied to hang out with off screen and the one she always calls in an emergency.

He's also the first one she really smiles at and trusts in the first couple episodes.

Despite not saying she wants to be a journalist like some other versions, she definitely still has some of those skills. She is brilliant as finding articles and information on Kraang sightings online, is capable of getting information out of random civilians, has a recording device attached to an app on her phone which she sneaks into the purple dragons base and she manages to find the TCRI blueprints.

There's one scene when she's training with Splinter that she focuses too hard on the specific motions and shuts her eyes rather than watch him

Thought it was funny that Splinter eventually gave April a throwing weapon given she accidentally threw two of the previous weapons she tried

She can seemingly follow along with at least some of donnies scientific rambles, especially compared to the others

She has 1,178 unread emails, one of which is in urgent

[akhil-1]

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[microsoftpowerapps12]

Visualpath Teaching the best Microsoft Power Platform Training in Ameerpet. It is the NO.1 Institute in Hyderabad Providing Online Training Classes. Our faculty has experienced in real time and provides Power Apps Real time projects and placement assistance. Contact us +91-9989971070

Join us on WhatsApp: https://www.whatsapp.com/catalog/919989971070/

Visit: https://visualpath.in/microsoft-powerapps-training.htmlRead Our blog: https://visualpathblogs.com/

[spiritsofts]

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[fan-fic-favs]

While You Were Sleeping

Pairing: Bang Chan x Superhero!Reader (fem)

Summary: You were a fan before you got your powers. You never imagined you'd meet him, let alone be able to help your favourite vlogger/singer/producer.

Warnings: none

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

The sand people.

That was the name the public had affectionately given to the group of superheros that had a similar set of powers. But unlike the Star Wars characters that were often looked down upon, the sand people all over the world received high praise. With powers that could simply put a super-villain or terrorist to sleep or in a coma, without causing any damage to city or neighbour's property, it was easy to end up in their good books.

The powers came to you all in different ways. Your story was nothing to make headlines; you were working at the archives in a museum, doing the annual counts in person for the accountants you worked for, when you came across an unmarked box in the corner. Following procedure, you lifted it to find a large yellow jewel instead. You didn't get much of a chance to inspect it, when you touched it, you were later found asleep next to where it had been, with the box nowhere to be seen. You were never able to find that box again afterwards, much to your chagrin. And so you went about your week, not thinking much about it until a friend at work mentioned they couldn't sleep. All it took was a thought from you, and a small amount of sand appeared in your palm and streamed across the room, and your friend was asleep.

That was easily the freakiest day of your life, you had flipped out, vacuumed up the sand in the office, and woken up your coworker before anyone could see what happened. Then you had rushed to the security cams, and wiped the past few minutes before anyone could see. They weren't monitored, and you had been tasked to help set them up, so hopefully you could claim just doing maintenance if anyone asked.

A couple months into testing your powers on people on buses and trains (thinking no one would notice in a place people often fell asleep anyway), you were approached by one of the sand people, and the rest is history.

Being on their team hadn't affected your life too much, the teams costume covered your whole face and included a cape and hood, there weren't any crazy fights, and you were able to still work online at your old job. You had no boyfriend, stayed in touch with your friends, and still watched silly YouTube videos. You avoided teleporting too much as it took a lot of energy out of you.

Besides helping out with hero work, the sand people also ran much sought after sleep clinics, and worked with doctors and researchers on sleep science. So far you had discovered that you needed to be within a kilometer of the person you were focused on, which helped a lot for villans that could turn invisible. With that knowledge, you now knew exactly which street corner you needed to get to in order to help your mum with her insomnia. It had been a hard week for her, you sent a quick good night text to her before driving back home for the night.

You even still kept your JYP bubble app, which you kept secret from everyone you knew. The little messages brought a smile to your face, and it took so long to get enough space for decent replies, you just couldn't bring yourself to delete it.

Scrolling through short videos after you got back home, a bubble notification popped up. Once again, Bang Chan, one of the idols you had on bubble, couldn't sleep. You really wished you could help him, but felt like a bit of a creep to give sleep to those who hadn't asked for it or weren't villains.

Quickly, you checked Twitter for any upcoming events. Surely one time wouldn't hurt, right? He had sent so many messages about not being able to sleep lately. It should seem pretty natural if he finally got one good night's sleep, right? It was the least you could do, for all the free content he provided on his streams that kept you entertained. Mind made up, you stood up, preparing to teleport to Seoul.

Thankfully you had been to Seoul before, and landed softly at Namsan Tower. You had googled where the JYP offices were, but unfamiliar locations often required more energy to teleport to, so you opted for the tower and took a bus from there, payment card in hand from your last trip there.

You really hoped he was texting from his studio there, because you had no idea where the dorms were, and already felt intrusive enough showing up outside his workplace. This was already kind of crossing the self made boundaries you had put in place.

Reaching out and picturing his face, sand collected in your hand and soon streamed out to find its mark. Happy your trip had not been for nothing, you skipped happily down the street before teleporting back home.

You went over your actions once you returned, fretting over if you'd been noticed. You knew the sand was nearly invisible to any security cameras, and going without your costume drew less attention. You didn't need your fellow sand people up in your business about why you were in Seoul.

Feeling good about your (hopefully) good deed, you went to sleep after watching some TV.

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

The next morning, a new message showed on your Bubble app.

짜니 : I think I was visited by a sand person??

짜니 : Or one of the kids is pranking me.

짜니 : Probably pranking me lol

Eyes widening you threw your phone to your bed. Then paced the room. Then looked back at your phone. Yep, the messages were still there. It could be blamed on pranking someone, right? You just wouldn't do it again, and everything would be fine.

But not long after, Chan's insomnia and late night messages returned. He raved about how good he slept when he got a "sand visit", and wished he had time for one of their sleep clinics.

You paced the room, trying to figure out a way to get away unnoticed with gifting him some sleep. A small amount of sand, less than a handful, was always found around a targets head. If you could make sure the sleep was deep enough, you should be able to vacuum up the sand before anyone noticed. Unfortunately, a few problems still stood in your way. One, you had no idea where Chan was at any given time, and didn't want to turn to any sasaeng websites to find out, that definitely felt like it crossed a line. Two, you weren't sure how to keep others from hearing the vacuum. If where he was was loud enough to cover the sound of the vacuum, it wouldn't be believable enough for him to fall asleep on his own.

You really wished there was some way to just talk to him, if you could get permission, your conscience would be at ease. But how do you contact someone you don't personally know?

Frustrated, you gave up again and went to bed. Maybe in the morning you could bounce ideas off your best friend, she always had the best solutions.

----

Morning came and you felt guilty again seeing the app messages from after you fell asleep.

짜니 : Do you think sand people can make themselves fall asleep?

짜니 : I'm so jealous~~~

Unfortunately, the powers could not be used on yourself, but another sand person could help, if your mind was willing to accept the help. Maybe you could hold an info session with him. No. You still wanted to keep your Para social relationship with the guy a secret.

Determined to figure this out so you could stop thinking about it, you made sure to pick up a sleep clinic shift with one of your local teammates, another sand lady who went by "The Dame".

Waiting for the computer to process the test results, you bounced a few ideas off of her.

"So you want to help someone who has helped you a lot, but they don't know you, and they don't live nearby?"

"Ya, pretty much." You sighed in frustration, unable to have come up with a solution.

"Hmm, what if you did one of those clinic tours some sand people do? You could send him an official invite as a thank-you."

Your eyes brightened as you considered it. "That's perfect! Yes, and, and I could send invites to others too so that he doesn't feel singled out and doesn't get the creeps!"

"Haha, you're always so concerned with the creeps." She shook her head.

"Oh come on, you don't think some random super showing up and messing with your sleep is creepy?"

"I dunno, could be sexy." She wiggled her eyebrows through her mask.

"Uhhhhh, sure. Cause waking up to sand around you is so sexy."

"Could be. Just use your imagination." She grinned like a cat as she rested her head on her laced hands.

You covered your face with your hands. "Ya, my imagination doesn't need any more fuel, thanks. I'm already always imagining how people could get offended over crossing boundaries and consent and all that."

"It's just sleep, not sex. And we only put dangerous villains or medical cases in a coma." She reasoned, crossing her arms.

"Ya, I guess that's true. I'll see if the admins can set up a sleep tour for me, they're always asking for us to do at least one every few years, and I've never done one." You mirrored her crossed arms as you considered the logistics. A quiet moment passed.

"Do you want me to see who else is available?"

You tilted your head as you weighed the options."Nah, I'd like to try on my own, I've already shadowed a couple in the past when I was getting trained."

"Sounds like you've got yourself a plan." She grinned.

------

Sounds like a plan, indeed. You stared at the Seoul invite list on your laptop with your hands on your face, going back and forth over whether or not to hit send. The invites would go to their doctors first, and then the doctors would get in touch with the patients. Christopher Bahng's name blinked back at you.

This was the whole reason you were doing the tour, right? Well, you had to do one eventually, so it was like killing two birds with one stone.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, you closed one eye and clicked send.

There.

Now it was off in cyberspace, unable to be retrieved. You let out a breath and headed to the fridge for a drink.

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

About a week later, you received the replies of those that could make it. Seeing Bang Chan checked as attending, you couldn't help bouncing up and down. The sleep clinics would run for a week, helping attendees to fix their circadian rhythm by being put to sleep at a set time every night. It made a big impact for many who suffered from insomnia, and you hoped it would help Chan too.

You included a frequently asked questions page as well, including answers to questions like 'Can sand people make themselves fall asleep?'

Later that night, your phone lit up with a new message on your app.

짜니 : No way, was my question seen?

짜니 : Can't be, right? If a super was a stay, I wouldn't be able to believe it.

Well, crap. Maybe that was a slip up on your part, but it could also be easily denied. Plenty of people had asked that question before. You let go of the breath you were holding and breathed deeply to calm down. You could do this, you could help and he will never know the visiting super was a stay.

Right?

---

Maybe this was a bad idea. You were supposed to be focused on everyone at the clinic, but your eyes kept coming back to Chan as you went through more Q&A before the first session began, thank God for your full face mask.

Chan was listening attentively, and only took out his phone for a minute once the Q&A had ended.

You phone buzzed before you had a chance to get away from the mic.

"I'm so sorry, I thought I turned that off."

짜니 : Huh, it turns out I was wrong, sand people can't make themselves fall asleep. Gotta make sure I correct myself, not gonna spread misinformation.

You giggled before you realized you were being stared at, with the mic still on a foot away from you.

Clearing your throat, you redirected the attention elsewhere. "If you'll follow the staff to your left, you'll find your sleeping accommodations for this week." You knew the staff were meant to announce directions, but the distraction did its job, and and you let the MC take over the rest of the directions.

You didn't seen Chan staring at you since the giggle you let out, all the way till you exited the conference room.

The research center was set up like a hospital but without the hospital beds. Each room had an arrangement of equipment in the corner, but otherwise the rooms resembled hotel or inn like rooms, with simple beds, many pillows and blankets to choose from, and side tables and chairs. TVs and books were pointedly left out to not give any more extra causes for sleep deprivation.

----

A week later found you in the observation chair with Chan to see if the machines showed any changes in his sleep rhythms. It was the last day of the sleep clinic, and notes needed to be made for the next sand super that came into town to do sleep clinic follow ups.

"I like that phrase, sleep rhythm, maybe I'll use it in our groups next song."

You let out a smothered chuckle, a little exasperated. "Mr. Chan-"

"I know, I know, I should be trying to sleep. Not every day you meet a favourite super."

Your face heated and once again you were glad for the mask. "Well, you're one in a million then, we're not usually anyone's favourites, not very flashy." You admitted.

"I wish I could wear a mask more often like you, I think I look a lot better with a face mask. Maybe I could talk to my staff about it. And I thought I asked to just be called Chan?" He teased.

Oh please no, if you didn't nip this in the bud, he might get ideas about covering his pretty face and then you'd be kicking yourself. "If I call you Chan, will you promise not to wear a mask all the time? I think your fans would cry."

He shook his head and changed the subject. "Is there anyway I can have sand visits all the time? This is the most energy I've had in years, it's like life is in HD." He looked up hopefully, eyes sparkling.

Many patients had made the same comment to sand people in the past, but at the prospect of helping Chan more often with his full consent, you thought of an idea.

"I won't be moving here, but I can let you know when I'm in town? I usually come by a couple times a year for personal or super business."

"Really!?" Chan leapt to sitting up in the bed next to your chair.

"Uh-huh. But just like your phone number is confidential, so is mine. And you'll have to save me under a name that's not suspicious." You quickly added.

"Hmmm, 'Sandy' too on the nose?" He grinned.

You laughed back. "Hmm, ya I think so. Any other ideas?"

"I wish I just knew your name. You know my stage name and my real name. Doesn't that bug guy and other supers not have a secret identity?"

"It's true that sand people can loose the mask if they get their PhD, but it's never been on my to do list. And it makes life that much more difficult. You should know, it's not easy to always be recognized everywhere you go. And in my case, the sand people have a few enemies, if they knew who I cared about, those people would be in danger."

"Awwwe, are you saying you care about me? Are you possibly a fan?" He sing-songed.

"What- why would-?" Your voiced came our cracked and squeaky. "Look, I care about a lot of people, that's why I'm not a villain."

"Haha, Fair enough. Well, I'm honoured to have your contact. I will list it under 'sleep doctor abroad' until I think of something better, deal?"

Happy with the outcome beyond what you had hoped for, you agreed "Deal."

-----

Later while you were almost asleep in your bed, your last night in Seoul before the next city, a message appeared on your Kakao app.

짜니 : HI <sticker>

짜니 : By the way, I forgot to ask, what name did you save me under?👀👀

Sleepyly, you took a screenshot of your screen and sent it.

You stared at the screen for a few seconds while you woke back up, seeing if you would get a reply.

짜니 : Channie?! No way, are you a stay?

Eyes widened as your heart raced, cursing, you were now fully awake. Oh crap. You hadn't even thought of that, you had just copied and pasted his name from the bubble app to your kakao. Unsure of what to do, you tried to play it cool. What could you say to not make it awkward?

You: I like some songs. :)

짜니 : Oh my God, Holy F- Okay, cool, that's cool. What's your favourite song?

You: My first favourite was...

And the conversation carried on back and forth, until you realized the events of the day had made you forget to send the sleep sand to Chan.

You: It's past sleep time! I'm so sorry, sending over the sand now. I can do a follow up visit to make it up to you after my tour is over.

You: That was so unprofessional of me, I'm so sorry.

짜니: Unprofessional means we're friends, right? But I won't say no to another good sleep visit ;)

A winky face?! Oh my God. Was he flirting? Why did he have to make the sleep visits sound like something else? No, it didn't mean anything. Seeing clips of different fan-calls, you knew he did that all the time. Sitting down, you tried to calm down and type your reply.

You: OK, good night. 💤

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

You kicked off your slippers, stepped from the hotel shower, and changed into your pajamas for the last night on your tour. The time difference wasn't too bad between Sydney and Seoul, and you had found little messages from Chan on your phone throughout your tour. Thankfully, the tour went from Mongolia down into Australia, so you were usually still in his time zone or close to it.

Before going to sleep, your opened your phone to check for any missed messages. The notification for the bubble app popped up, bringing a smile to your face. So far, you had neither confirmed nor denied to him that you had that app.

짜니: ugggh, can't sleep again.

짜니: Stay, what are you doing?

Remembering you had promised him one more sand visit once your tour ended, you shot him a text on Kakao.

You: I'm done my tour. Are you sleeping ok? Do you need a follow up visit tonight?

짜니: wow, that was fast.

You: what? My tour? Chan, it's been a few months. Felt pretty long to me.

짜니: No, it's just I just messaged stays that I was tired.

짜니: Preeeeetty sure you have bubble, that's too many coincidences 🤔

You giggled in your bed and sat up to text him more. You side stepped admitting you had bubble and changed the subject.

You: Should I land outside the JYP building? I think that will be close enough to send the sand from if you're there.

짜니: Can't you teleport inside? It's cold out, and I'm sure Sydney is nice and warm right now.

You: It's dangerous to teleport inside buildings I'm not familiar with, someone could get hurt. And I'll put a coat on. I didn't say I was in Sydney, are you following my tour updates in Twitter? 👀👀

짜니: Maybe... are you on bubble?

You: Fair enough. I'll be there in a minute, just grabbing my coat.

짜니: where are you teleporting to? The street? The roof?

You: I'll take a look at google street view and aerial view first, the roof next to, less people get scared that way.

Putting on your coat from your visit to Mongolia, you scrounged up the last of your energy to teleport.

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

The sound of the streets below filled your ears while you took in your new surroundings. You wish you had the energy to enjoy being in Seoul, but you really needed to rest. You had already expended most of your energy on the last reports for the sleep clinic tour that day and sending sleep sand to a last few clients. Gathering the sand to your hand, you jumped when your phone rang, the sand falling to the ground.

You couldn't believe your eyes, it was Chan calling. Shakily, you looked around and hit the answer button, holding it up to your ear. Was he okay? Was something wrong?

"H-Hello? Chan?"

"You picked up! Awesome! Look across the street!"

Looking up you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Chan jumping up and down at the JYP roof, waving his arm in the air frantically, the other holding his phone to his ear.

"I think it's you who just waved back, but just checking, your not in your costume?" His excited voice rang back.

"Ha, Ya that's me." You stalled, still a little in awe and relived that he was okay. "The costume draws too much attention if I just planned on being in and out."

"Your leaving already?" His voice sounded sad as you saw his hand stop waving and slowly lower. How was he so adorable? It broke your heart.

Your pause left him to fill the silence. "Well at least I know your hair colour now, it looks really pretty, from what I can see over here."

You laughed again into the phone, trying to find the words. Chan was quickly becoming one of your favourite persons to talk to, and you could see yourself quickly falling for him too. You even felt you trusted him enough to let him see you without your costume from far away.

"Chan, I-"

"Don't send the sand just yet. Can we talk for a little more, just like this?"

The emotion in his voice made you want to cry. He used to be just your favourite comfort vlog to watch, but was worming his way further into your heart, and you found it so hard to say no to him, especially when you wanted to spend more time with him too.

"Okay, but just for a little bit, I'm in my pjs and a winter coat."

"Oh! I have some hand warmers! I'm not sure how to get to the roof of that building tho." He looked around to the street below.

"Chan, I'm not wearing my mask."

"Oh..." You weren't sure how to interpret the emotion there. "Um, ya that's OK, I can grab you a face mask too if you're not comfortable with me yet." He sounded a little hurt.

"Hey! I didn't mean it like that, it's just, it's a big step, ok? Only my closest friends know it's me behind the mask."

Silence answered you on the line, and you wondered what you said wrong, how could you make him understand?

"What if I come again another time without the mask? I'm so sorry Chan, it's just teleporting takes a lot out of me and I've already spent most of my energy today." You explained.

"Do you wanna come to my studio and take a nap? Hear a track? Trade a secret for a secret? Only my closest friends hear me making tracks." His voice went higher and higher, sounding hopeful.

You stared in disbelief. Was this really happening? Your little stay heart was jumping up and down at the prospect of hearing a new track from him.

"Ok" Your mouth had already answered before you could really think about it. "But I'd like a mask at first please, at least till we get to the studio." You quickly added. You found reveals were always easier in steps.

You found the alley next to the building and floated down to ground level. Sandies couldn't usually fly, it was almost always more of a controlled fall and some could float. Getting settled, you peeked out of the alley way before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"I'm not looking!" Chan was in front of you, covering his eyes. "Here's a mask for you." You looked to his outstretched arm to find a mask matching the one on his face. It made sense, being so close to the building, he probably got stopped by fans a lot.

"Thank-you." You took it from his hands and put it on. "You can open your eyes now."

Chan let his hand drop from his eyes and stared.

"Oh wow, damn, ok. Sorry, you, you're gorgeous." He looked at you in adoration.

"Chan," You giggled. "You haven't even seen the rest of my face. It could be severely distorted for all you know."

"Nope. Impossible, I can tell even from when you have your mask on that you have a nice jawline and lips." He crossed his arms in triumph.

You crossed your arms too, matching his stance. "Oh really? You've been looking at my lips?" You flirted.

The tips of Chan's ears went red. "Hey, stop that." He said halfheartedly.

-------

You followed Chan with your eyes as he took to the stairs with a windows facing you, looking for where he stopped so that you could try teleporting and skip the security questions. You appeared behind Chan, and had fun tapping him on the shoulder and scaring him. He took you down the hall to his current studio. Once you settled into a seat near his laptop, you took your mask off. You found in the past that it was like ripping of a band-aid, and much easier if you just got it over with. "Okay, I've revealed my face, time to keep up your end of the deal."

Chan looked over and stared. A smile grew on his face. "See, I told you it's impossible. You're more beautiful than I imagined."

Your face turned beat red. "Hey, you stop that. I know you're used to flirting with stays, but if you keep it up you're going to give me ideas."

Chan grinned back at you and leaned in, even as red covered his cheeks. "And what if I want you to get ideas?"

You stared at him as he stated back at you. You couldn't believe him an shook your head. "Very funny. Actually, no, not funny. Stop playing with my feelings and show me the song."

He paused, looking a little offended, and turned around, apparently letting up to give you some breathing room. You saw his eyes from the side keep glancing back at you as his face stayed turned to the laptop screen. After finding the right file, and listening to make sure it was acceptable, he took the headphones off and put them on your head. The song that played was in English, with only Chan's vocals. It told of a story of a mysterious lady he only ever saw when he couldn't sleep, or in his dreams. There were even a few quotes that you had shared with him as your favourite sayings in your conversations over text. Your eyes teared up at the thought of Chan writing a song for you. You covered your mouth with your hand and tried not to cry, the tiredness of the day and all the excitement and feelings taking over.

Chan turned at the sound of your big sniff, and was alarmed out of his seat. "Hey! Are you ok? I didn't mean to make you cry!" He put his hands on your shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, I'm just a mess. It's just pretty overwhelming to have you write a song for me. I didn't think I'd ever even get to meet you, just see you at concerts." You wiped your tears away while he stared in concern, rubbing your arms.

"Aha! So you have been to our concerts. But we'll talk about that later, come here." He drew you into his arms. You hesitated at first, but quickly hugged back. His hugs were better than you imagined through his vlogs.

Once you calmed down, you let out a deep breath and let go. "I'm so sorry, I can go now, I'm such a mess."

"What? No, you need to take a nap, remember?" His puppy dog eyes looked back at you. Your resolve to run away in embarrassment crumbled. He had you wrapped around his little finger and he didn't even know it.

"Okay, but I'm setting a timer on my phone. Just twenty minutes and that will be enough for me to teleport back. And then you're getting sleep sand mister, don't think I forgot." You tried to sound authoritative but it just came out sleepy.

Chan stared back at you chuckling, seeming to debate arguing. "Okay. I'll finish up what I'm doing and then wake you up."

You fell asleep very quickly after that on the couch while Chan tidied up his things from the day at the studio. Before your alarm went off, Chan sat down next you to get a closer look at your face. He tried to memorize it best he could, feeling taking a picture would break your fragile trust that he had finally built up enough to get this far. His phone lit up in his phone, a message from Han, wondering if he Changbin left his phone in the studio. Chan quickly tried to come up with an excuse, saying he was just packing up before the door opened.

Chan stared at Han, feeling he was caught red-handed.

"Umm, this is not what it looks like." Chan tried to explain.

"Really, cause it looks like you let some lady in her pajams sleep in your studio. Is this that girl you've been texting that you won't tell us about?"

"What? I haven't-. Ok. Yes, you're right, but keep your voice down, take the phone and close the door before she wakes up, I'll explain when I get home."

"Ok hyung, you better have a good explanation, this would be a huge scandal."

'I know." His voice let Han know he knew how serious this was for all of them.

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

Preview of Part 2:

"She's in a coma."

"I was gonna marry that girl."

"Chan's gonna marry my sister, you know."

"Did you see the headlines?"

[dublinurvixen]

This is my 18+ blog so MINORS PLEASE LEAVE THIS ISN'T FOR YOU!!!

Your age must be in your bio/pinned or get blocked.

Also DNI if your a SH/Feeder/ED/Gore blog/blank blog or if you are racist, transphobic/homophobic,terf, MAP, P3doba!t, I WILL BLOCK ON SITE! 

.・。.・゜✭Hello There ^-^  I’m Dublin <3 .✭・.・✫・゜

❥ I'm a 23 year old Kinkster from Northern USA. EST time zone

❥ I'm Bisexual (not a whole lot of experience with women, but MMM WOMEN~)

❥ Submissive, Pet and little. My pet side is way way more prevalent than my little side Though.

❥ I am a Fox, Wolf, Racoon or Kitty pet-player. Most seen is puppy and kitty space. Which is your favorite?

❥ Can be the biggest brat or softest service sub it just depends on how well you train me 

❥ I'm currently in a flexible relationship with my Daddy Dom/top BF of three years and I am Polyamorous, not actively looking for a relationship and I will not do long distance. That being said, he knows about my “Hoe activities” and doesn't mind. I have several IRL FWB and a few online that he knows about <3 Our relationship is all about trust and communication and expression. I love him a lot.

❥ I'm starting to post my own text posts and pictures, if there's anything you want me to post, send me an ask and I'll see about creating custom content. 

❥ Also If you wanna tip me, I'm $DublinUrVixen on Cash App and I also have a wish list here. If you buy me something from my wish list, you will get your own personal photoshoot in the items you buy me <3 just DM me and let me know. I'll get to be you your little pet or doll <3

❥ When I'm not reading smut, you can find me drawing! I love drawing my characters and nsfw poses as well. My commissions are open, DM me if you're interested in me drawing you or your characters, NSFW included!

❥ Always down to RP or sext/dirty talk,  please ask before you send pictures, feel free to send me fantasies or concepts or gifs <3 more likely to send pictures if you tip me!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.The juicy Details!.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ❥ Finger sucking gifs are my kryptonite, they get me so dumb and subby I can't even!

❥ Into: Impact, masochism, choking, breathplay,hair pulling light exhibitionist, Cnc, Corruption, Power Dynamics, bimbo/bimbofication/Dollification, Hypnokink, Monsters (ugh werewolves especially) Pet-play, light age play, Bondage, overstim, edging, denial, breeding, cages, knife play, masks, kidnapping, light bladder control, humiliation, degradation and praise, leather and boots, uniforms, thigh-highs, hands, voices, growling, primal, Domestication, somnophilia, oral fixation, cock-warming, demons {wow none of this is in order} ❥ Not Into: piss/scat, ema, blood, food, man-ass, feet, race-play, incest, fauxcest,

❥ Pet names: I love: pet, kitten, kitten, puppy, pup, baby baby/girl, angel, sweetheart, darling, princess, vixen, mutt, slut, doll, brat. Mostly everything tbh!

Come into my DMs with any of the above and ill be a puddle on the floor!

Send me asks, DMs, fantasies, gifs, and just pay attention to meeeeee <(>△<)>

⋆ ★ Results from bdsmtest.org ★ ⋆

100% Masochist 

100% Non-monogamist 

100% Primal (Prey) 

100% Rope bunny 

100% Submissive 

100% Pet 

97% Brat 

96% Slave 

95% Degradee 

88% Boy/Girl 

69% Experimentalist 

63% Exhibitionist 

57% Ageplayer 

57% Voyeur 

18% Vanilla 

13% Primal (Hunter) 

12% Sadist 

0% Daddy/Mommy 

0% Rigger 

0% Brat tamer 

0% Degrader 

0% Dominant 

0% Master/Mistress 

0% Owner 

0% Switch 

this is a picture of me! my hair is way longer it looks short in the photos

[nitesh-123n]

Mastering Bengali Pronunciation at Home

Bengali, the language of Rabindranath Tagore and mouthwatering roshogollas, can sound as melodic as a sitar solo. But those unfamiliar with its alphabet and sounds might feel like they're tackling a bowl of phuchka – delicious, but potentially explosive! Fear not, intrepid language learner! Mastering Bengali pronunciation at home is entirely achievable with the right techniques. Here's your cheat sheet to navigate the twists and turns of Bengali phonetics:

1. Befriend the Bangla Alphabet

The Bengali alphabet, known as Bangla Lipi, might look like an exotic vine at first glance. However, with some dedication, you'll be able to decipher its unique characters. Start by familiarizing yourself with the basic vowels and consonants, paying close attention to the diacritics that alter pronunciation. Numerous online resources and apps offer interactive tutorials to make this process less daunting.

2. Shadow Like a Sparrow

Bengalis have a beautiful lilt to their speech. To capture this essence, practice shadowing – mimicking native speakers. Find audio resources like Bengali news broadcasts, podcasts, or movie dialogues. Listen intently, then try to replicate the sounds as closely as you can. Record yourself and compare it to the original, adjusting your pronunciation where necessary.

3. YouTube: Your Virtual Language Lab

YouTube is a treasure trove for pronunciation practice. Explore channels dedicated to teaching Bengali pronunciation. Look for videos that break down specific sounds, offer visual aids like mouth movements, and provide slow, clear pronunciations. Don't be shy to repeat after the instructor, as repetition is key to mastering those tricky Bengali sounds.

4. Befriend a Bengali Buddy: Conversation is King

The best way to solidify your pronunciation is through real-life conversation. Look for online language exchange platforms where you can connect with native Bengali speakers. Practice basic greetings, introduce yourself, or discuss your favorite Bengali dish. Not only will you improve your pronunciation, but you'll also gain valuable cultural insights.

5. Sing Along Like a Nightingale

Bengali music is a vibrant tapestry of sounds. Immerse yourself in the world of Rabindra Sangeet or contemporary Bengali pop music. Listen closely to the lyrics, paying attention to how the singers pronounce vowels and consonants. Try singing along, even if it's just humming the tunes. This not only makes learning fun but also helps train your ear for the natural flow of the language.

6. Record Yourself Ruthlessly

Record yourself speaking Bengali regularly. Listen back objectively and identify areas for improvement. Are your vowels rounded enough? Are you pronouncing those tricky consonant clusters correctly? Being your own critic can be a powerful tool for identifying and fine-tuning your pronunciation skills.

7. Celebrate

Learning a new language is a marathon, not a sprint. There will be days when Bengali pronunciation feels like a bowl of jalebis – sweet but sticky. However, celebrate your Fortschritte (German for progress, because every language learner deserves a fancy word)! Every correctly pronounced word, every successfully navigated sentence is a victory. Reward yourself for your dedication, and keep your motivation high.

Remember, mastering Bengali pronunciation is a journey, not a destination. Embrace the challenges, celebrate your victories, and most importantly, have fun along the way! Before you know it, you'll be conversing with Bengali speakers like a seasoned pro, ready to order your next plate of phuchka with confidence