#The Million Dollar Five Star

[winterfieldfrontiers]

OKITA IS COMING ON MOVIE 27 mean

JEALOUS SHINICHI IS COMING BACK IN MOVIE SINCE M23!!

[gothyyy]

yes i play enstars and yes i’m in love with ritsu that’s just how we roll here

[bakabuzz]

Detective Conan Hyaku-man Dollar no Michishirube (The Million-Dollar Five Guiding Stars) Release Date is For April 12, 2024

[lizardsfromspace]

I do have to impress on anyone who wasn't around for it how batshit the reality boom of the 2000s could be. Especially on Fox.

Here are some 100% real 2000s reality shows:

Who's Your Daddy? A woman has to guess which of eight men is her biological father. One of them really is, and if she guesses right she wins $100,000. If one of the seven fake dads convinces her to guess them, he wins $100,000.

Black. White. A white family learns about racism by living a month in blackface, while a black family spends a month in whiteface. The black family was a real family, but the white family was just some actors hired to put on blackface to prove racism exists

Without Prejudice? Five strangers decide which of five strangers gets a cash prize based off clips and their answers to political questions. Cancelled when one of the choosers openly said he'd eliminate all black contestants

Welcome to the Neighborhood. Three conservative white families in a Austin subdivision decide which diverse family gets to move in. Unaired due to being literal housing discrimination

Seriously, Dude, I'm Gay. Two straight men try to pass themselves off as gay and whoever seems more gay gets $50,000. Unaired due to. Due to. Due to

Playing It Straight. A woman tries to find love among fourteen men, half of whom are straight and half of whom are gay, and she must eliminate two men she believes are gay each week. If she ended up picking a straight man in the end, they'd split a million dollars; if she picked a gay man, he'd win a million dollars

Boy Meets Boy. This was Playing It Straight but starring a gay man and he had to eliminate straight people

Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire? He wasn't a multimillionaire. He didn't even have a million dollars in liquid assets. He had a battery conviction Fox claims they didn't see. Because it was the 2000s, somehow this ended up with the woman he won being widely vilified and turned into a national punchline. How dare she complain about a massive corporation tricking her into marrying a lying abuser, good thing Matt Lauer's there to take her down a peg

The Swan. A "ugly" woman is given plastic surgery and wins a prize if she's the hottest at the end of the season. If she's not hot enough by the show's standards she's eliminated and called ugly on national TV

The Biggest Loser. Overweight people engage in competitive crash weight loss that often led to awful health complications. Studies showed basically everyone on the show regained any weight they lost once it was over and they didn't have abusive trainers demanding they take huge health risks to win a competitive weight loss competition. Like the others, this one was cancel-oh, it was a massive hit that ran for 18 seasons? Yikes!

Wife Swap and Trading Spouses. These were the same show and had a wife from one family go to another family that was different politically, racially, culturally, religiously etc. Most famous for the God Warrior

At the time people focused on the likes of Fear Factor but looking back it's wild how many of the worst shows toyed with politics. So many of these shows have a premise that's like "what if we exposed these conservatives to these people they hate?" or hyping themselves up as Important Experiments. Then they'd freak out when they got the kind of viral bigoted freakout they were trying to construct the whole time.

There were also a bunch of horrible reality shows, thankfully this time mostly unpopular, in the 2010s that based themselves around economic themes as a response to the market crash, but that's a story for another time

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is a house husband.

That's it, that's all it is.

As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.

Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.

Sam and Tucker on the other hand....

Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.

But they had one rule.

Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.

Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.

Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.

And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.

He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.

Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.

So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)

And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.

Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.

Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.

Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.

Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.

The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.

Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.

The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.

This is not the last they see of Danny.

When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.

[hopeymchope]

No hardcore fandom has ever died so quickly and so completely as Veronica Mars. This is the story of its murder.

They should study Veronica Mars in Hollywood. I'm serious. It's an incredible story of how to go from "loud, passionate fanbase with its own fandom name that campaigns and advocates constantly for it" to "absolutely zero fucking interest" damn near OVERNIGHT with just ONE epically terri-bad decision.

If you weren't there, you don't understand: From 2007 to 2014, the fandom — the "Marshmallows," as they called themselves — were everywhere in the Internet's geek spaces, my friends. They routinely beat the drum about the series' three seasons and its excellence, lamented its cancellation, pushed others to give the show a try, and always - ALWAYS - proudly and loudly called for the series to be revived.

FULL DISCLOSURE/CONFESSION: I've not even watched that much Veronica Mars, frankly... ? Yeah, I'm sorry! it does seem pretty good from like the four-or-five hours I've experienced firsthand. I just never took the time to sit down with it. Regardless, I find fandoms and their dynamics — both how they operate internally and how they display to others externally — deeply fascinating. And I honestly find them easier to study from the outside than the inside. Like, if I'm IN a fandom, I'm more likely to stay in my corner and ignore places that seem negative. But being on the outside lets me just... absorb what's out there, looking into every forum without judgment. It's like studying pop-culture sociology or something? And it helps that I'm very close to some serious(-ly burnt) Marshmallows. It makes it so much easier to find and absorb the gamut of the fandom.

Besides: There is NO fandom story I've ever seen that's anything like what happened to Veronica Mars and the Marshmallows.

(Time to insert a brief explainer for the uninitiated: Veronica Mars was a TV series that aired from 2004-2007 on the now-deceased UPN network wherein Kristen Bell played the titular character, a high school girl whose single dad was a private detective in the fictional community of Neptune, California. She grew up working "unofficially" as his assistant, which meant that she herself was effectively a teenage private detective.

The three core elements of the series were: 1) Veronica investigating each week's big mystery with plenty of quips and snark, 2) Watching Veronica's various relationships develop and shift, with most of the focus given to a) her relationship to her father and b) Her romantic pursuits (which began as the Veronica/Duncan/Logan triangle before eventually becoming focused on the slow-burn, off-on Veronica/Logan love story), and 3) The gradual development of that season's "mytharc" — the overarching BIG MYSTERY that doesn't get resolved or wrapped until the season finale. So it went over the course of two seasons that took place in high school and the third, shorter season that was at the start of Veronica's collegiate career.)

Just how big and how passionate were the Marshmallows? WELL! When series creator Rob Thomas (not the Matchbox 20 guy) and star Kristen Bell announced the Kickstarter campaign for the Veronica Mars movie in March 2013, it achieved its heretofore-unprecedented goal of TWO MILLION GODDAMN DOLLARS within less than 12 hours. At that time, it was the biggest Kickstarter goal to ever succeed — and certainly the fastest to reach that kind of height. Fans fell OVER themselves to pay out for it. Hell, my own significant other was DEEP in the tank for VM at the time and invested enough to get multiple t-shirts as backer rewards as well as a disk copy of the movie when it eventually came home.

And AFTER the movie hit in 2014? It was thankfully beloved and embraced! The once-teenage characters were adults who were actually out living on their own and working for a living, but the fandom had grown up with them, so it wasn't like they were begging for them to stay young students. They embraced Adult Veronica and her new adventure. The fandom rejoiced loudly and continued to be all over the geek side of the Internet... where they, of course, still wanted more. Sure, there were new novels in the aftermath (which were written by the creator of the series), but most of the Marshmallows were calling for more movies or a streaming revival.

And then, at long last... season four was actually announced. And there was much (premature) rejoicing yet again.

Yes, Veronica Mars returned for a fourth season on Hulu in 2019. It was just eight episodes, and it was heavily centered on one season-long mystery instead of sprinkling that amongst a bunch of smaller ones, but it would still feature the same ol' Veronica. They promised a new, more "adult" mystery/investigation plus a strong focus on Veronica and Logan's love story.

New Hulu purchased the rights to the first three seasons and hyped up its presence on the platform while marketing the return for the new run. The marketing team played up the most popular quips from the show's history plus put out TONS of stuff centered on the Logan/Veronica ship to pump up the fans.

The season was dropped all at once using the classic Netflix "binge" model in July 2019. And then... afterwards?

There was a brief explosion of LOUD RAGE from the Marshmallows at what series creator Rob Thomas had to done to burn and spite the fandom and ruin his own goodwill.

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4: See, at the end of the movie, Veronica and Logan finally entered into a long-term relationship. In season four, they've been dating for years, and Logan proposes marriage. But of course there has to be drama/obstacles: In this case, Veronica isn't sure she's ready to marry... or capable of being in a marriage. Ah, but of course she eventually realizes how much Logan means to her. The two are married, and, in the season finale... Logan is killed by a car bomb in the penultimate scene. The final scene is a flashfoward to a year later, where Veronica leaves Neptune alone.

For most fandoms, that'd be a memorable point of pain. A big ol' speed bump that ultimately throws some people off the bus, leaving only the die-hards. But the fact that fans had been invested in this relationship for literally 15 years and that Hulu (and creator Rob Thomas) had heavily marketed the new season as being a big romantic event for the ship... it was too much. Unlike the aftermath of the Star Wars sequels, there was no lingering group of die-hard fans who were open to whatever was next — at least no significant one. I did some Googling and could only find TWO people who still wanted another season.

Funnily enough? Critics LOVED this. Hell, Vanity Fair infamously penned an editorial about how Veronica Mars had "finally grown up" with this finale. I suppose all the other murders and deaths and drug overdoses and r*pe weren't "mature" enough before now for... some... reason. (The same editorial also featured the author openly hating on Veronica ever being in a relationship because it causes "arrested development" and declaring that the movie -- which was acclaimed by both critics AND fans alike, I remind you -- was a lame dud. So. The writer must be a reeeaaaal fun person.)

But a series doesn't live based on critical acclaim, as it turns out. The fandom was murdered overnight. "Marshmallows" stopped appearing in geek spaces online entirely. No one expressed interest in seeing the next season or the next movie. The constant flow of fan AMVs on YouTube and fanfics on AO3 dried up to nothing or damn nearly so.

Since 2019 ? Nothing. Chirping crickets. An intensely dedicated fandom of 12 years was just... vaporized.

I've never seen anything like it before OR since.

That's why it's so fucking fascinating.

So what went wrong?

Creator Rob Thomas was adamant about two things: ONE, the series was intended to be a noir show, which meant there couldn't be any happiness for its protagonist. And TWO, the death of Logan was necessary to evolve and grow the series.

Thomas thought that having Veronica in a relationship would be holding her back, and that a marriage would absolutely kill the series and leave her stagnant. It never even occurred to him that marriage isn't the end of a character's life and growth. It never occurred to him that plenty of drama can be had AFTER someone is married, or that development/growth could be that the characters mature enough to be capable of maintaining a committed relationship. Thomas' view of his own universe was so myopic that he couldn't conceive of any possible way that Veronica could still be a private detective involved in life-threatening investigations AND be married at the same time. Futhermore, he felt that fans just wanted Veronica to become a pregnant housewife, which is about as far from what Marshmallows were after as you can get without straight-up killing Veronica and/or Logan. He managed to do the only thing wronger than what he wrongly thought was their insistence.

On top of the above, Rob Thomas only viewed "noir" as a vehicle for total fatalism... despite the fact that many of the most famous noir stories are cynical and full of moral ambiguity, but they still feature a positive outcome. The Big Sleep still has the protagonist get the girl. The Set-Up arguably ends with the happiest possible ending in spite of the beating the hero receives.

Perhaps most importantly? Despite Thomas own insistence that Veronica Mars was always "noir," the majority of both TV critics and fans did not think that designation ever truly applied. I suspect that's the reason why Thomas decided to go as dark and fatalistic as possible: He wanted to be noir, and he was being told that he wasn't. So he went so far into noir that he killed his own most popular property.

He was adamant that it was the only way for the series to grow. But as it turns out, it was instead the only way for the series to permanently end. Without that season four finale, a passionate group of fans would still be begging for more. With it? It's over. Nobody fucking cares now.

That's kind of amazing.

[sinswithpleasure]

You Can Watch, But You Can't Touch [At Least, Not Yet]

Tokyo, a city that never sleeps. 

You've been a regular participant of the bustling nightlife for years, being a bartender for one of the most famous bars along Golden Gai. Many famous patrons have come and gone—you've hosted not only Japan's best, but Hollywood's best as well, and with the way you conduct your business—sweet talking the patrons whenever they strike your fancy—you're no stranger to bedding some of these celebrities. However, you may have just gotten yourself the opportunity of a lifetime.

"Hngh, my God~!"

"Mmf, aah, fu~ck~."

"Oh fuck yes, yes…"

You have no idea how you'd managed to sweet talk your way into the situation you were in now. You're in the suite of five-star Park Hyatt Hotel, in front of TWICE's Myoui Mina, Minatozaki Sana, and Hirai Momo. All three women are naked in front of you, and you're not wearing any clothes either, all of you having discarded your clothing on the way in. 

"Come join us here, Takagi~." Sana's saccharine voice, dripping with sexual desire, calls you forth to get on the massive bed, where all three women lie side by side. You don't know where to look—all three beautiful Japanese goddesses have their hands between their legs, fingers plunging deep into their dripping pussies. You field a glance towards all three women, and your cock twitches when Sana returns you a wink, Mina licks her lips after staring at your hard cock, and Momo blows you a kiss. Precum drips from the tip as you watch Mina fondle her breasts, soft moans escaping her lips as she tugs at a nipple between her fingers. 

Wet squelches echo around the room, mixed with the varying sets of moans. Sana is unabashedly loud, her sweet whines and moans music to your ears, going straight to your cock. Momo's pleasure is vocalized in her low sultry voice, every thrust of her fingers into her dripping cunt punctuated by a low hum. Mina is the softest amongst the three, just as she would be, but she sounds no less sexy—her angelic voice is something you've enjoyed whenever you listen to TWICE's music, but here, that same voice conquers your mind through soft, breathy moans. 

"Takagi~," Mina's moan of your name has you twitching once more, your cock at its stiffest. You shift closer to the three idols, and Mina stares intently at your cock as you move, her fingers plunging faster into her cunt. 

"Takagi, please join us, mmf~... Join us and stroke your cock for us, please~!"

There was no way you were denying yourself the relief you needed, and neither would you deny Mina the pleasure of having her request fulfilled. You grab your cock and slowly lather your precum across your length before gently stroking your cock for the idols to watch. You softly grunt as the pleasure seeps into your system, and you watch as the eyes of all three women burn with lust at your display. 

"Takagi, who's your favourite out of the three of us?" Momo's signature low voice cuts through your pleasure, and you turn to look at the oldest of the three. The oldest girl has one hand on her left breast, and she kneads it gently, the flesh spilling from between her fingers. You're momentarily stunned by that display—to see Momo's huge breasts like that so intimately, you'd be an idiot not to enjoy it for as long as you can

"Answer me, Takagi~. Momo-onee-chan's waiting~." 

"I— I…" You're unable to even formulate any coherent sentence—Sana chooses that moment to moan your name, which draws your attention to her. She flashes you her million-dollar smile, ever full of mischief, promising nothing but seduction in this instance. You're fully aware you're being toyed around by the three Japanese megastars, but you're powerless to protest, and neither do you wish to as well. 

"Ta. Ka. Gi. Answer Momoring's question, please~."

"I…, oh God, fuck—" You partially moan out of pleasure, and out of indecision—not on who's your favourite, but on whether your answer would have any repercussions. Tonight could go anywhere—the only thing you'd known was that you were chosen by MiSaMo to be their sexual partner for tonight, but you weren't sure about the details. Even on the extremely short drive here to the Park Hyatt from the bar, all you were allowed to know about tonight's experience was that you would "enjoy tonight thoroughly and fully", or so Sana said. 

"Please tell us, Takagi?" You have no idea how Mina manages to look cute as she puts on her aikyo (愛嬌) for you even as she's fucking herself, pouting and whining while her fingers plunge deep into her pussy and draw more and more of her arousal to stain the sheets below. You nearly cum at the sight, and all three women giggle when you rip your hand away from your cock, your hips jerking as a few drops of hot, thick semen drip from your tip. 

"Oh, Minaring, look at what you've done!" Momo giggles in amusement, bumping the youngest of the trio with her elbow. "You've just made Takagi cum a little."

"Guess we know who's the favourite now, Momoring~."

You're absolutely embarrassed—you thought you'd be able to edge yourself, but Mina just being herself has you unable to control yourself fully, and you'd just lost a bit of your precious load you were saving for them. Sana must have sensed your disappointment. 

"It's okay, Takagi. Minaring has this effect on people. I'm sure you have more cum in those big balls for us, don't you~?"

"Y-Yes!" Eager to prove, to please, you begin to stroke yourself again, this time reaching below to fondle your balls as well. The low groan you let out draws giggles from the stars opposite you, and you open eyes that you'd closed in pleasure. In front of you, Mina has changed her method slightly—she rubs circles on her clit, her pussy still leaking and dripping. Next to her, the whirr of a vibrator starts up—Momo holds a Hitachi wand to her clit, and she throws her head back, moaning, her free hand on Mina's leg now after letting go of her breasts momentarily. Now, you get to look at the oldest girl's breasts without any obstruction—she arches her back at a particularly strong burst of pleasure, and you gawk at her heaving breasts jiggling as she bucks her hips, deep moans serving as vocal evidence of the sexual relief she enjoys. Sana is the only girl still fingering herself, but now she has three fingers in her, her eyes switching between you and her group mates, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she whines and moans in pleasure watching everyone else masturbate together with her. 

"Takagi…" Mina's call for you is breathy, shaky from the pleasure coursing through her veins. You're forced to rip your hand away from your cock again, lest you tip over the edge. This does not go unnoticed—Sana and Momo are giggling again at your obvious weakness for Mina. Mina continues, unfazed. "Let's—mmf~—strike a deal." 

"W-What?" You're dying to hear what Mina has to say. It'd probably be worth it, but you know that it'd probably be difficult, considering your current situation. 

"If… If you—oh~!—you last… l-longer than the three of us, we'll—fuck—I…" Mina trails off as she pushes her fingers back into her cunt again, before pulling them out. 

"What she means, Takagi…" Sana takes over for their youngest. "...is that if you manage to edge yourself until all three of us have enjoyed our orgasms, you'll get to fuck the three of us."

"A—Are you sure?" You can't believe your ears—this sounds too good to be true. 

"Are you calling me a liar?" Sana's grin promises she isn't offended—she's just teasing, as usual. "Of course we're sure. If you last long enough, we'll fuck you. One by one, in any position and hole you want."

"We'll even go again, if you can keep up." Momo adds on as she winks, her vibrator turned off for this negotiation. "Something tells me you can."

"Takagi." Mina's soft call gets your attention. "If you finish last, I'll fuck you first."

You'd have been a fool not to agree. The three idols grin, and Momo's vibrator clicks on again as you begin to stroke. This time, a second and third whirr join the first—Sana has another Hitachi wand in her hands, and a dildo in the other. She pushes the dildo in her as the toy comes into contact with her clit, and she lets out a long moan at the pleasure. Next to her, Mina also now has a vibrator—a dildo with a clit massager—and she toys around with it, stimulating herself with different angles. All three women moan your name, staring at you, blatantly displaying their desires and fantasies as they pleasure themselves, and you jerk yourself hard and fast at the sight in front of you. Precum coats your tip, and you spread it all across your cock as you jerk, eyes locked on the idols in front of you. You feast on the sight of Sana and Mina with their arms pushing against either side of their breasts, squeezing them together, before looking at Momo's massive chest jiggling as she writhes in pleasure.

"Takagi, oh God~." Momo calls for your attention. "I want your cock in me so bad, fuck…" 

"Oh yeah?" You can't help but indulge in the dirty talk. "What else?"

"I need that cock shooting into me, Takagi. I love the feeling of it, the warmth of semen filling me up." Momo begins to finger herself again as she turns up the vibrator. "Especially when these two watch me take it."

A blush spreads across Mina's face at Momo's words, whereas a smile spreads across Sana's. 

"That's right, Takagi. Momo lo~ves being bred by thick hard cocks like yours." Sana grins even as she fucks herself, her sentences punctuated by the occasional moan. A pout forms on her face at the next sentence. "And she always wants us to watch, because she loves making us jealous." 

"Don't lie, Sattang. You love watching me cum on hard cocks as much as you love cumming on them too." Momo's rebuttal has Sana giggling, and your brain is filled with the thought that this was a regular occurrence. You groan at the thought, your cock twitching as more precum bursts from the tip. 

"Oooh, Takagi liked that, Momoring~." 

"Mmm, of course. Bet you he's wondering how many men we've fucked like that."

Your eyes betray your curiosity—something all three girls pick up.

"We're not kissing and telling, Takagi~." Sana's quick to tease. "But I'm going to say… the most we've had was sex with three different men at the same time each, one after the other." A wink accompanies the reveal, before Mina moans again. She is clearly revisiting the experience—

"Oh yes, those three…" Momo joins in to add further context, just to rile you up further. "Their cocks were just as long and thick as yours, Takagi. They fucked us so good that we weren't able to get up for a while."

The image of Mina, Sana, and Momo next to each other, semen dripping from their used pussies, naked bodies glistening with sweat as they are right now, nearly has you cumming. You once again edge yourself, whimpering at the denied orgasm. 

"I think you'd be happy to know that our Minaring here…" Sana fields Mina a glance, "...liked it the most. Every time she came…"

Sana's voice drops low, as if to let you in on a secret.

"She squirted all over her partners."

"Oh f—, no, no!" Your cock visibly twitches at the imagery of Mina's squirting orgasm, and to both your pleasure and disappointment, you're barely able to finish your speech before spurts of semen burst from your tip, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Shot after shot of semen sprays through the air, with your first five shots spray onto Mina's body, and the next five spraying all over the bedsheets, more semen firing from the tip.

The moment your hot semen sprays all over Mina's breasts, tummy, thighs, and ass, the youngest Japanese girl shudders, eyes rolling back in her head in a picture-perfect ahegao. She orgasms hard—the toy in her pussy is expelled out of her body onto the bed as her hips buck hard, and a long gush of squirt showers everyone on the bed. Burst after burst of Mina's juices rain over you, and your cock twitches again, just a little painfully after that intense orgasm. The Japanese girl writhes, shudders, and bucks as her orgasm takes her, and when she falls still, a panting, exhausted, sweaty mess, you can see the satisfied grin on her face, her eyes meeting yours. 

"Takagi, you failed." Momo's the first to get up, and Sana follows after. Both girls stop pleasuring themselves, and they share a look to each other before grinning. 

"I see you're still hard." Sana licks her lips at the sight of your cock, strings of semen clinging to the tip. "A pity we're not going to be able to help you with that…" 

You must've looked so pathetic and lost that Sana and Momo end up giggling at your predicament. All is lost, you think, until Momo speaks. 

"We'll give you one more chance, Takagi. Would you like that?"

"Y-Yes, please, anything!"

"Hehe, so eager and needy for our pussies…" Momo bites her lip, eyes raking over your body. "You're lucky we want to fuck ourselves on that cock as much as you want to pump our tight cunts full of cum."

Both girls give their youngest member a look. Mina is at her sexiest right now, her wanton body spread open for everyone to see. Her pussy clenches on nothing, slick dripping from her hole, semen staining her thighs, ass, and body. The afterglow of her orgasm is evident—she looks so fucking hot like that. 

"Since Mina offered…" Sana turns back to you with a bright smile, not unlike those you'd see on variety shows, or in TWICE TVs. "If you can show us how well you can fuck her, we'll fuck you."

You need no further invitation. Mina welcomes you eagerly when you crawl over—she spreads her legs wide for you, and she begs you with her eyes and hands. The look she gives you is of pure submission, and you look below to see her spreading her pussy open to welcome your cock. Both Sana and Momo crawl up to either side of you, and they watch you rub your hard cock against Mina's pussy, drawing soft moans from her. 

"Takagi, in me, please~!" Mina's quick to beg, the desperation eating away at her patience.

"Put it in, come on." With a soft push on your back, you penetrate Mina for the first time. Mina loudly moans as you stretch her walls—she's a tight fit, but you slide in with not much resistance, with how wet she is. Inch after inch, your cock disappears into her, and you swear you're in heaven. The pleasure you derive from her walls squeezing you, mixed with the natural scents of Sana and Momo beside you has you almost delirious—you can't believe this is truly happening. When you hilt, you groan loudly, and Mina whines as your cock twitches deep in her. 

"Go on, fuck her. Show us how a man like you fucks a woman, Takagi."

You're unable to keep your groan soft when you pull out of Mina's cunt and thrust back in. Mina joins you in vocalizing her pleasure, and she pulls you in to plant her lips on yours. You're surprised, naturally, but you adapt quickly—soon enough, her tongue is against yours in a hot, openmouthed kiss. You begin to pick up the pace—slow thrusts grow quicker, though you're still ensuring to keep it soft to let Mina adjust to the stretch. 

"Faster."

At Momo's command, you begin to increase the strength of your thrusts. The claps of your pelvis against Mina's ass are steadily getting louder, just as Mina's moans do as well.

"Takagi, fuck her. Make her scream." Sana crawls next to you, her low whisper next to your ear. The hot breath against your skin has you shuddering. "Look at Mina, moaning like that whenever you stretch her. She loves it, wants it, needs it, even craves for it." Sana's smile is audible in her speech. "So fuck her."

Momo is next—you feel her breasts press against your back, and she grabs you on your hips, her lips just right next to your other ear. You're starting to get dizzy with the pleasure of all three women being this close to you. Sana nibbles your earlobe, and Momo kisses you on the neck, leaving little hickeys trailing. 

"Look at her, look at how you're bulging her tummy. Look at how wide she spreads her legs for you, how much she begs you to fuck her. Come on, fuck her like you mean it."

You finally give in to your baser desires. You send thrust after thrust into Mina, the strength of each snap of your hips only increasing. The young star beneath you cries out in pleasure as she writhes, shakes, trembles at the sensations that course through her. 

"So big, so good, Takagi~!"

Mina's name might as well have been a mantra, with the claps of your body meeting hers keeping the tempo. You're not able to do much of anything else—her tight walls squeeze you just right, the warmth of her body wrapped around your shaft only enhancing the pleasure of sex with her. You only fuck her faster and harder when you have bursts of energy, and when you hear both Sana and Momo join Mina in moaning, you open your eyes to feast on the sight of all three women in pleasure, be it through toys, or you.

"Yes, just like that, fuck her, yes!"

"Mmf, Takagi, keep going~!"

Mina's call for you comes a second later. 

"You heard what Sattang and Momoring said, Takagi. Please use me, fuck me, make me scream!"

With these final instructions, you begin to pound Mina. The other two women clearly appreciate this—they finger themselves harder, moans more drawn-out, and Mina, most of all, loves it. You feel her walls tighten and get wetter around you, and her moans grow in frequency and pitch as she draws closer and closer, the claps of sex louder and louder—

"TakaGI, I'M—!!"

Mina never finishes her sentence—she wails in pleasure instead as she hits her peak. Her hips buck hard, and squirt gushes into the air as your cock falls out of her, twitching hard. You were close, so close, and you grip Mina forcefully by the hips to hilt back into her. The feeling of her squirt gushing against your body paired with the tight squeeze of her walls as well as the friction of penetration causes you to explode deep within her. You freeze as your thick, hot semen paints Mina's walls and womb white, blast after blast of your cum shot deep into the youngest's body. At the same time, Sana and Momo orgasm right next to the both of you, twin jets of squirt showering both you and Mina as you ride out your orgasms. 

When you pull out from Mina, exhausted, you fall onto the stained sheets, uncaring of where you lie. Immediately, your semen bubbles out of Mina's freshly-used cunt and drips down her skin, and both Sana and Momo reach between their youngest's legs to taste your cum. 

"Mm, Takagi, you're delicious…" Sana licks her lips as her eyes twinkle, and Momo only grins at you, her stare just as lustful. 

"Good job, Takagi…"

Both Japanese women tug you, and they lead you to a drier part of the bed. They both take turns making out with you, and you're ready to go in a matter of minutes. 

"I see you're ready~." Momo takes her position as she straddles you and lines your cock up to her cunt. Sana swings a leg over your face, and you know you're in for even more fun. 

The last you remember is Sana and Momo sinking down on you, and at that moment, you swear that Heaven is a place on Earth.

[xoxoladyaz]

It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out. 

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over – 

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes. 

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I – 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy. 

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear. 

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago. 

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Tags List: @gregre369 @starman-jpg @skoomy-doompy @thequeenrainacorn @sleepyboosstuff @strawberrykore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @steve-the-hairrington @iknewyouweremuggle @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sunfloweringstories @loverkasp @hyperfixationgoddess @steddie-as-they-go @zerokrox-blog @messrs-weasley @thelittleclare @lovelyscot

[max-levchin]

Shamir Secret Sharing

It’s 3am. Paul, the head of PayPal database administration carefully enters his elaborate passphrase at a keyboard in a darkened cubicle of 1840 Embarcadero Road in East Palo Alto, for the fifth time. He hits Return. The green-on-black console window instantly displays one line of text: “Sorry, one or more wrong passphrases. Can’t reconstruct the key. Goodbye.” 

There is nerd pandemonium all around us. James, our recently promoted VP of Engineering, just climbed the desk at a nearby cubicle, screaming: “Guys, if we can’t get this key the right way, we gotta start brute-forcing it ASAP!” It’s gallows humor – he knows very well that brute-forcing such a key will take millions of years, and it’s already 6am on the East Coast – the first of many “Why is PayPal down today?” articles is undoubtedly going to hit CNET shortly. Our single-story cubicle-maze office is buzzing with nervous activity of PayPalians who know they can’t help but want to do something anyway. I poke my head up above the cubicle wall to catch a glimpse of someone trying to stay inside a giant otherwise empty recycling bin on wheels while a couple of Senior Software Engineers are attempting to accelerate the bin up to dangerous speeds in the front lobby. I lower my head and try to stay focused. “Let’s try it again, this time with three different people” is the best idea I can come up with, even though I am quite sure it will not work. 

It doesn’t. 

The key in question decrypts PayPal’s master payment credential table – also known as the giant store of credit card and bank account numbers. Without access to payment credentials, PayPal doesn’t really have a business per se, seeing how we are supposed to facilitate payments, and that’s really hard to do if we no longer have access to the 100+ million credit card numbers our users added over the last year of insane growth. 

This is the story of a catastrophic software bug I briefly introduced into the PayPal codebase that almost cost us the company (or so it seemed, in the moment.) I’ve told this story a handful of times, always swearing the listeners to secrecy, and surprisingly it does not appear to have ever been written down before. 20+ years since the incident, it now appears instructive and a little funny, rather than merely extremely embarrassing. 

Before we get back to that fateful night, we have to go back another decade. In the summer of 1991, my family and I moved to Chicago from Kyiv, Ukraine. While we had just a few hundred dollars between the five of us, we did have one secret advantage: science fiction fans. 

My dad was a highly active member of Zoryaniy Shlyah – Kyiv’s possibly first (and possibly only, at the time) sci-fi fan club – the name means “Star Trek” in Ukrainian, unsurprisingly. He translated some Stansilaw Lem (of Solaris and Futurological Congress fame) from Polish to Russian in the early 80s and was generally considered a coryphaeus at ZSh. 

While USSR was more or less informationally isolated behind the digital Iron Curtain until the late ‘80s, by 1990 or so, things like FidoNet wriggled their way into the Soviet computing world, and some members of ZSh were now exchanging electronic mail with sci-fi fans of the free world.

The vaguely exotic news of two Soviet refugee sci-fi fans arriving in Chicago was transmitted to the local fandom before we had even boarded the PanAm flight that took us across the Atlantic [1]. My dad (and I, by extension) was soon adopted by some kind Chicago science fiction geeks, a few of whom became close friends over the years, though that’s a story for another time. 

A year or so after the move to Chicago, our new sci-fi friends invited my dad to a birthday party for a rising star of the local fandom, one Bruce Schneier. We certainly did not know Bruce or really anyone at the party, but it promised good food, friendly people, and probably filk. My role was to translate, as my dad spoke limited English at the time. 

I had fallen desperately in love with secret codes and cryptography about a year before we left Ukraine. Walking into Bruce’s library during the house tour (this was a couple years before Applied Cryptography was published and he must have been deep in research) felt like walking into Narnia. 

I promptly abandoned my dad to fend for himself as far as small talk and canapés were concerned, and proceeded to make a complete ass out of myself by brazenly asking the host for a few sheets of paper and a pencil. Having been obliged, I pulled a half dozen cryptography books from the shelves and went to work trying to copy down some answers to a few long-held questions on the library floor. After about two hours of scribbling alone like a man possessed, I ran out of paper and decided to temporarily rejoin the party. 

On the living room table, Bruce had stacks of copies of his fanzine Ramblings. Thinking I could use the blank sides of the pages to take more notes, I grabbed a printout and was about to quietly return to copying the original S-box values for DES when my dad spotted me from across the room and demanded I help him socialize. The party wrapped soon, and our friends drove us home. 

The printout I grabbed was not a Ramblings issue. It was a short essay by Bruce titled Sharing Secrets Among Friends, essentially a humorous explanation of Shamir Secret Sharing. 

Say you want to make sure that something really really important and secret (a nuclear weapon launch code, a database encryption key, etc) cannot be known or used by a single (friendly) actor, but becomes available, if at least n people from a group of m choose to do it. Think two on-duty officers (from a cadre of say 5) turning keys together to get ready for a nuke launch. 

The idea (proposed by Adi Shamir – the S of RSA! – in 1979) is as simple as it is beautiful. 

Let’s call the secret we are trying to split among m people K. 

First, create a totally random polynomial that looks like: y(x) = C0 * x^(n-1) + C1 * x^(n-2) + C2 * x^(n-3) ….+ K. “Create” here just means generate random coefficients C. Now, for every person in your trusted group of m, evaluate the polynomial for some randomly chosen Xm and hand them their corresponding (Xm,Ym) each. 

If we have n of these points together, we can use Lagrange interpolating polynomial to reconstruct the coefficients – and evaluate the original polynomial at x=0, which conveniently gives us y(0) = K, the secret. Beautiful. I still had the printout with me, years later, in Palo Alto. 

It should come as no surprise that during my time as CTO PayPal engineering had an absolute obsession with security. No firewall was one too many, no multi-factor authentication scheme too onerous, etc. Anything that was worth anything at all was encrypted at rest. 

To decrypt, a service would get the needed data from its database table, transmit it to a special service named cryptoserv (an original SUN hardware running Solaris sitting on its own, especially tightly locked-down network) and a special service running only there would perform the decryption and send back the result. 

Decryption request rate was monitored externally and on cryptoserv, and if there were too many requests, the whole thing was to shut down and purge any sensitive data and keys from its memory until manually restarted. 

It was this manual restart that gnawed at me. At launch, a bunch of configuration files containing various critical decryption keys were read (decrypted by another key derived from one manually-entered passphrase) and loaded into the memory to perform future cryptographic services.

Four or five of us on the engineering team knew the passphrase and could restart cryptoserv if it crashed or simply had to have an upgrade. What if someone performed a little old-fashioned rubber-hose cryptanalysis and literally beat the passphrase out of one of us? The attacker could theoretically get access to these all-important master keys. Then stealing the encrypted-at-rest database of all our users’ secrets could prove useful – they could decrypt them in the comfort of their underground supervillain lair. 

I needed to eliminate this threat.

Shamir Secret Sharing was the obvious choice – beautiful, simple, perfect (you can in fact prove that if done right, it offers perfect secrecy.) I decided on a 3-of-8 scheme and implemented it in pure POSIX C for portability over a few days, and tested it for several weeks on my Linux desktop with other engineers. 

Step 1: generate the polynomial coefficients for 8 shard-holders.

Step 2: compute the key shards (x0, y0)  through (x7, y7)

Step 3: get each shard-holder to enter a long, secure passphrase to encrypt the shard

Step 4: write out the 8 shard files, encrypted with their respective passphrases.

And to reconstruct: 

Step 1: pick any 3 shard files. 

Step 2: ask each of the respective owners to enter their passphrases. 

Step 3: decrypt the shard files.

Step 4: reconstruct the polynomial, evaluate it for x=0 to get the key.

Step 5: launch cryptoserv with the key. 

One design detail here is that each shard file also stored a message authentication code (a keyed hash) of its passphrase to make sure we could identify when someone mistyped their passphrase. These tests ran hundreds and hundreds of times, on both Linux and Solaris, to make sure I did not screw up some big/little-endianness issue, etc. It all worked perfectly. 

A month or so later, the night of the key splitting party was upon us. We were finally going to close out the last vulnerability and be secure. Feeling as if I was about to turn my fellow shard-holders into cymeks, I gathered them around my desktop as PayPal’s front page began sporting the “We are down for maintenance and will be back soon” message around midnight.

The night before, I solemnly generated the new master key and securely copied it to cryptoserv. Now, while “Push It” by Salt-n-Pepa blared from someone’s desktop speakers, the automated deployment script copied shard files to their destination. 

While each of us took turns carefully entering our elaborate passphrases at a specially selected keyboard, Paul shut down the main database and decrypted the payment credentials table, then ran the script to re-encrypt with the new key. Some minutes later, the database was running smoothly again, with the newly encrypted table, without incident. 

All that was left was to restore the master key from its shards and launch the new, even more secure cryptographic service. 

The three of us entered our passphrases… to be met with the error message I haven’t seen in weeks: “Sorry, one or more wrong passphrases. Can’t reconstruct the key. Goodbye.” Surely one of us screwed up typing, no big deal, we’ll do it again. No dice. No dice – again and again, even after we tried numerous combinations of the three people necessary to decrypt. 

Minutes passed, confusion grew, tension rose rapidly. 

There was nothing to do, except to hit rewind – to grab the master key from the file still sitting on cryptoserv, split it again, generate new shards, choose passphrases, and get it done. Not a great feeling to have your first launch go wrong, but not a huge deal either. It will all be OK in a minute or two.

A cursory look at the master key file date told me that no, it wouldn’t be OK at all. The file sitting on cryptoserv wasn’t from last night, it was created just a few minutes ago. During the Salt-n-Pepa-themed push from stage, we overwrote the master key file with the stage version. Whatever key that was, it wasn’t the one I generated the day before: only one copy existed, the one I copied to cryptoserv from my computer the night before. Zero copies existed now. Not only that, the push script appears to have also wiped out the backup of the old key, so the database backups we have encrypted with the old key are likely useless. 

Sitrep: we have 8 shard files that we apparently cannot use to restore the master key and zero master key backups. The database is running but its secret data cannot be accessed. 

I will leave it to your imagination to conjure up what was going through my head that night as I stared into the black screen willing the shards to work. After half a decade of trying to make something of myself (instead of just going to work for Microsoft or IBM after graduation) I had just destroyed my first successful startup in the most spectacular fashion. 

Still, the idea of “what if we all just continuously screwed up our passphrases” swirled around my brain. It was an easy check to perform, thanks to the included MACs. I added a single printf() debug statement into the shard reconstruction code and instead of printing out a summary error of “one or more…” the code now showed if the passphrase entered matched the authentication code stored in the shard file. 

I compiled the new code directly on cryptoserv in direct contravention of all reasonable security practices – what did I have to lose? Entering my own passphrase, I promptly got “bad passphrase” error I just added to the code. Well, that’s just great – I knew my passphrase was correct, I had it written down on a post-it note I had planned to rip up hours ago. 

Another person, same error. Finally, the last person, JK, entered his passphrase. No error. The key still did not reconstruct correctly, I got the “Goodbye”, but something worked. I turned to the engineer and said, “what did you just type in that worked?”

After a second of embarrassed mumbling, he admitted to choosing “a$$word” as his passphrase. The gall! I asked everyone entrusted with the grave task of relaunching crytposerv to pick really hard to guess passphrases, and this guy…?! Still, this was something -- it worked. But why?!

I sprinted around the half-lit office grabbing the rest of the shard-holders demanding they tell me their passphrases. Everyone else had picked much lengthier passages of text and numbers. I manually tested each and none decrypted correctly. Except for the a$$word. What was it…

A lightning bolt hit me and I sprinted back to my own cubicle in the far corner, unlocked the screen and typed in “man getpass” on the command line, while logging into cryptoserv in another window and doing exactly the same thing there. I saw exactly what I needed to see. 

Today, should you try to read up the programmer’s manual (AKA the man page) on getpass, you will find it has been long declared obsolete and replaced with a more intelligent alternative in nearly all flavors of modern Unix.  

But back then, if you wanted to collect some information from the keyboard without printing what is being typed in onto the screen and remain POSIX-compliant, getpass did the trick. Other than a few standard file manipulation system calls, getpass was the only operating system service call I used, to ensure clean portability between Linux and Solaris. 

Except it wasn’t completely clean. 

Plain as day, there it was: the manual pages were identical, except Solaris had a “special feature”: any passphrase entered that was longer than 8 characters long was automatically reduced to that length anyway. (Who needs long passwords, amiright?!)

I screamed like a wounded animal. We generated the key on my Linux desktop and entered our novel-length passphrases right here. Attempting to restore them on a Solaris machine where they were being clipped down to 8 characters long would never work. Except, of course, for a$$word. That one was fine.

The rest was an exercise in high-speed coding and some entirely off-protocol file moving. We reconstructed the master key on my machine (all of our passphrases worked fine), copied the file to the Solaris-running cryptoserv, re-split it there (with very short passphrases), reconstructed it successfully, and PayPal was up and running again like nothing ever happened. 

By the time our unsuspecting colleagues rolled back into the office I was starting to doze on the floor of my cubicle and that was that. When someone asked me later that day why we took so long to bring the site back up, I’d simply respond with “eh, shoulda RTFM.” 

RTFM indeed. 

P.S. A few hours later, John, our General Counsel, stopped by my cubicle to ask me something. The day before I apparently gave him a sealed envelope and asked him to store it in his safe for 24 hours without explaining myself. He wanted to know what to do with it now that 24 hours have passed. 

Ha. I forgot all about it, but in a bout of “what if it doesn’t work” paranoia, I printed out the base64-encoded master key when we had generated it the night before, stuffed it into an envelope, and gave it to John for safekeeping. We shredded it together without opening and laughed about what would have never actually been a company-ending event. 

P.P.S. If you are thinking of all the ways this whole SSS design is horribly insecure (it had some real flaws for sure) and plan to poke around PayPal to see if it might still be there, don’t. While it served us well for a few years, this was the very first thing eBay required us to turn off after the acquisition. Pretty sure it’s back to a single passphrase now. 

Notes:

1: a member of Chicagoland sci-fi fan community let me know that the original news of our move to the US was delivered to them via a posted letter, snail mail, not FidoNet email! 

[rax-writes]

↬ hellish elysian

Elysian - relating to or characteristic of heaven or paradise.

Pairing: Crowley x afab!Reader Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), choking / breath play, impact play, hair pulling, degradation, mention of blood kink

The original objective of this entire situation had been manipulation. But, at this point, it was impossible to tell who was manipulating whom – or if that was at all part of the dynamic anymore.

Post-human blood debacle, Crowley felt more vulnerable than he had in a few hundred years. Being around demons too often felt risky, lest they sniff out his vulnerability & use it to their advantage. But he craved touch, affection, and closeness – which made him feel like a whiny child, but he couldn't get rid of the craving without satiating it. The best option, in this “between a rock and a hard place” scenario, was none other than one of the people who had a hand in attempting to make him human.

You.

You clearly knew of his involvement in the third trial, and you were a human. Even though you were a hunter – a damn good one, at that – you were still just a human, so he viewed you as less of a threat than any demons he could use for sex.

Or, at least, that's how he justified it. The truth was that Crowley had wanted to fuck you since the day he met you – first just to piss off Moose and Squirrel, then simply because something about you made his trousers tighter.

On your end, the rationale wasn't too different from Crowley's. Given the endless flirtatious comments the King of Hell threw your way, you often contemplated whether you could use sex as a bargaining chip with him. Sure, he was undeniably hot, and something about that gravely accented voice made you flush. But it didn't seem to be a card you truly wanted to play – until you basically got a late night “booty call” text from an unmistakable 666 phone number.

You got some juicy intel out of it, and a couple of ancient relics, both of which helped on the next couple of hunts. The next time, you got a very old, very powerful protection amulet. The third time… well, you came so hard you passed out, so you just called that transaction square. The fourth time was just a lavish dinner, a horse-drawn carriage ride around Paris at night, and a stay in a hotel that was so over-the-top fancy you could scarcely believe your eyes.

You lost track after that, but eventually… there were no transactions, no trades. Just mind-blowing, spine-melting, moral-disintegrating sex.

Crowley still bought you dresses with four-figure price tags to wear to swanky restaurants, followed by stays in five star hotels or rented million-dollar homes, fucking the brains out of one another on every surface. But somewhere along the way, any attempts at personal gain via manipulation were lost, and the two of you just enjoyed each other's company.

Which is what brought you to your current position – naked on silk sheets, barely clinging to consciousness as the King of Hell made you cum on his tongue for the umpteenth time that evening.

Crowley spoke, but you could barely hear him over the ringing in your ears. It sounded like he was far away as you gasped for air, eyes closed as you came down from your high.

“You look so pretty like this, pet,” he purred, absentmindedly kissing your inner thighs – each peck of his lips making you twitch. “Fucked within an inch of your life by none other than moi. Oh, I love to see it.”

Agonizingly slow, Crowley made his way up your body, leaving nips and kisses in his wake. Thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, throat, jaw – and, finally, your lips. As he situated himself between your legs, the familiar feeling of his rock hard cock grinding against your soaked pussy invaded your senses, causing you to sigh into the kiss. He continued to glide his shaft through your folds, teasing you until you began to whine.

“Something you want, darling?” Crowley asked lightheartedly, grinding harder against you. When you merely whined and hooked your legs around him, trying to pull him closer, he let out a condescending tsk tsk tsk. “You know what to say to get exactly what you want.”

However, his smirk faded when you rolled your eyes.

“I am not saying that.”

“You will if you want me to finish the job.”

That only made you smile, because god, it was always so fun to call his bluffs.

You shrugged, moving to leave the bed, “Meh, the job is finished enough, I'd say. We can go ahead and call it a day.”

Lightning fast, Crowley let out a quiet growl, grabbed you by the jaw, turned your head to face him, agitation written all over his face. You merely smiled – which only irked him more.

“Fine. You don't have to call me ‘my king.’ Just… just get back over here,” Crowley demanded, his voice becoming marginally more desperate at the end. You complied, falling into his arms on the bed, and he wasted no time in capturing you in a searing kiss.

One of his hands drifted lower to pump himself a few times, before snarling, “Cocky little bitch, aren’t you?” Before you could retort, he plunged into you in one swift thrust.

A loud, debauched moan escaped you, and you mindlessly raked your nails down Crowley’s back, earning a hiss from him – but you knew him well enough by now to know that he liked it.

The demon set a merciless pace, burying his face in the crook of your neck, beard scratching the sensitive flesh there.

“Hit me.”

The words fell from your lips before you’d even fully thought them through, but Crowley was never one to hesitate. Almost instantly, you felt his palm collide with your cheek – somehow with the perfect amount of pain to make it absurdly pleasurable.

You toppled over an edge you didn’t even realize you’d been approaching, coming undone beneath him with a scream. Vaguely, you heard Crowley hum in amusement. Before you’d fully regained your senses, he was flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to meet his, using his grip on you as leverage to resume harshly fucking you. He seemed to be aware that you were practically mindless at this point, as he manhandled you however he pleased.

As a cacophony of wet, lewd sounds and moans filled the room, you momentarily had enough mental clarity to recall why the nature of this arrangement was so hot: it’s wrong. It’s so goddamn wrong – for a skilled hunter to be knocking boots with the literal King of Hell. But fuck, does it feel so right when he’s inside of you – hitting your sweet spot with brutal, precise thrusts, pulling your hair harshly to force you upright and into a messy kiss.

When the kiss broke, you let your head fall back onto Crowley’s shoulder, and his heavy breathing hit your ear as he wrapped a strong hand around your throat, squeezing just the right amount. You clenched around him, and he groaned – low and deep.

“Such a filthy whore you are, darling,” Crowley stated, that damned gravelly, accented voice causing you to clench around him again. Keeping one hand around your throat, the other drifted from your hip to your clit, rubbing steady circles over it. “Mm, you love it when I talk to you, don't you? Whether it’s praise or degradation – as long as I’m talking, it gets you moaning and gripping my cock like a bitch in heat. You’re positively vile, pet. And I love it.”

There were tears streaming down your face from listening to him, and from him toying with your overstimulated clit, and the sight brought a dark chuckle from deep within Crowley’s chest.

“My little succubus,” he mused, then abruptly slapped you again before returning that hand to your throat to give it a firm squeeze.

It was all too much. You came again with a strangled cry of his name. Ever the egomaniac, hearing you finish with his name on your lips was almost always his ending point as well, and Crowley bit down harshly onto your shoulder as he finished inside of you.

The pair of you fell to your sides on the bed, spooning with his cock still inside of you. Crowley draped his arm around your waist, then kissed the bite mark he left on your shoulder. When you turned your head slightly to speak to him, your breath was stolen from your lungs when you noticed the crimson blood on his lips. He opened his mouth to apologize for having bitten you so hard, but then he noticed the way your jaw hung slack, your breathing grew heavier, and your pupils darkened to the point that your irises were fully eclipsed. And he smirked.

“A blood kink, love? Always full of surprises, aren’t we?”

“Go to sleep, Crowley.”

“Another time then,” he replied, not missing the way you smiled as you turned away from him.

[saursoob]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER - as bf’s

genre: fluff, random bf txt things, bf!txt x reader

yeonjun:

when you and yeonjun go on dates he takes soo many pics of you and the date you’re on! literally 30 million pictures of you he thinks you’re so beautiful he cant help it but if you’re not also doing the same and taking cute pictures of him as well he’ll get all fake upset “hey, i look cute too! take some of me” and he’ll pose all pretty waiting for you to take some of him 😭

if he playfully teases you and you get a little pouty he’ll definitely notice right away and pull you close and say something like “you’re so cute when you pout” and kiss you on your nose or forehead

he shares his food with you 24/7 “my baby always has to get the first bite” & will always ask after if you liked it “is it good my love?” he says it with such cute eyes UGHH he’s so cutie

soobin:

lovess movie nights with you but you especially love when its horror and he tries to act all tough but ends up screaming and hiding in your arms whenever there’s a jump scare and when the the movie ls over he says to you,“honestly that movie wasn’t even that scary” and says it so confidently too 😭

also the way when you make him laugh so hard to the point where he falls on to you laughing and/or shakes you slightly with his hands is literally so adorable + when he laughs his voice slightly squeaks at the ends of them

or the way he gets all flustered when you talk about how he was when you guys first met “you were just so shy soobin i cant help but tease you about it” and he comes up with sooo many excuses waving is hands in the air while a pink hue is tinting his cheeks, “well im just a naturally introverted person!” we all know its because it was love at first sight and that man was already so whipped for u

beomgyu:

loves loves loves being around you hes literally so clingy with you always playing with your fingers or hair he just loves being around you and he feels comforted by just that so cuddling with you is his fav & he absolutely loves when you play with his hair while cuddling especially during loser lover era when his hair was long <3

definitely will apologize first when in a argument but it will take him a while since his mindset is “why do i have to apologize? i didn’t do anything wrong, right?” but he will anyways because he cant stand you being mad at him for long

he loves teasing you but this time when going on a date with you he does it with his looks, tell me why this man pulls up to your date looking so scrumptious in a suit and tie ofc he teases “i look good right babe? i bet you can’t resist me right now” with that smirk of his so true i cant 🧎‍♀️

taehyun:

taehyun doesn’t often show his affection in physical touch but instead buys you “gifts”, it doesn’t matter whether its food delivered to your house after you get home from work because he knows how tired you must be after a long day or something as random as something he picked up for you while shopping that reminded him of you he’s always thinking of u bae

also when you guys go on dates he is not afraid to spend money on you always making sure you get the best, taking you to five star restaurants and such + acts like its no big deal “babe are u alright?” NO IM NOT?? THIS IS SO FANCY? swear wouldn’t even care if one appetizer is 1000+ dollars like what. anything for u he says so 🤷‍♀️

definitely would “make” you go to the gym with him you went willingly to watch him workout okay at first you were gonna actually work out with him but how can you when your boyfriend looks so good lifting weights like that?!?! its actually impossible not to stare at that sight

kai:

kai is such a reassuring boyfriend like any worries you have GO TO HIM!! not to mention so considerate like whenever you vent to him he’ll always ask “babe, do you want comfort or advice right now?” and by the end of it you’ll forget why you were even worried in the first place UGH kai is the definition of perfect bf

yk how protective he is with his plushes with the members? yeah not with you, he will literally let you borrow his fav plush and yes i say borrow because don’t get me wrong he LOVES you but he’s still a little protective with his babys also you guys definitely have matching plushies he bought you two pucca & garu

you two always talk in baby voices with each other def not in a cringe way though, it’s literally just became a normal thing for you two. at first it was to make fun of each other but now its just randomly. for the record though you don’t always respond back all cute 😭😭 “is it good y/nie?~” you give him the biggest side eye “well now im not hungry thanks!” LMFAO you both laugh about it so dw

@saursoob reblogs r okay! please don’t repost

[jaehymrk]

reporting live

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff. Trent who was rather interested in the reporter than the actual report he had to give.

Time was ticking on a thin thread for you as your supervisor might call you within five minutes if you do not interview, at least, one player of liverpool. You have been in the reporting field for at least seven months and you now also have juniors yet for you to move like an amateur was hurting your pride.

You are social issues reporter, going around different cities, and write an interesting jaw-dropping report then, call it a day. Sport reporting was not your forte, it is almost like . . fork found in your backpack. Simply out of place. The million dollar question ringing in your head was why were you here in Anfield Stadium at the first place but you face-palmed yourself on accepting to cover for your senior who was in her maternity leave. You had always hated whenever you had to cover for a reporter doing sports. No particular reasoning, just childhood trauma.

You saw all the liverpool footballer players walking out from the dressing room after a hot win. You crossed path with the tall, charismatic dutch leader of liverpool to the small growing liverpool superstar Endo but you had your goal set on the biggest prize, the player with a fresh trim, and his headphone on as every reporter tried catching his attention.

Trent Alexander Arnold, the star of Anfield and liverpool. Your supervisor might as well, move you to the Sports section if you got to interview Trent; you were not looking forward to that but a lady has bills to pay. You sighed as you had to save your job before it slipped away from your grip.

Just one interview, anyway. What is the harm? You held the sleeve of his tracker suit lightly, you needed this, you needed a bang.

"Great win in Anfield, innit? Please let us know about how are you feeling about the win?" You asked reaching your microphone out to the man. His gaze froze, so did his feet in front of you. It could be the audacity to block his way toward the team bus or the glitch of mischievousness in his eyes that flickered on your red hue cheeks.

Trent chuckled as he moved slightly forward removing his headphone, your eyes set on the man completely compelled from the bridge of his nose, deep doe eyes to his captivating smile. Everything about the man was setting you up for a failure, realizing how much of a bad idea this was.

"Yeah, yeah it is great team win but to become the last scorer for the win is a different achievement, so I am proud and happy." Trent answered, his eyes never leaving yours for a minute. His heavy scouser accent oozed out every word as Trent kept his smile intact.

His eyes glanced at you, noting the rose hue on your cheeks, one hand slightly shaking to hold onto the microphone and the other holding onto the notebook. "Come here, love. Let me hold that for you." He mumbled gripping on the microphone as your fingers brushed on his and you were secretly praying to every god that was staring upon you to not show your slight jump after the touch.

"Okay so-" You paused, clearly out of the atmosphere as you were in no place to check out players nor drool out your delusional ideas when you have a very angry supervisor waiting on the clock and an impatient cameraman behind you. "Yeah, I cannot lie, you . . you were great in the field." You complimented him quickly but you were not lying about it. With the long passes, and all the chances Trent created for the team; anyone can tell he was born to become a football player who succeeds with legacy.

"You were watching?" Trent asked raising his eyebrows in question. Utterly confused, you paused to flip your notebook to look at the man in front of you. With the silent eye contact, your neck burnt hot. You nodded sternly, a thin smile on your face. "Of course, I was watching, I mean, I am a reporter, can't be missing out on the main point of the whole show."

Trent kissed his teeth, he smirked, "So, tell me more. How was I on the field? Did you like what you see?" He winked at your direction. Your mind went blank, in what position does he have to be to flirt openly with a camera panning on his face? The burning hot sensation on your back came straight up and your heart beating fast was not helping to form words, "Like . . like I said, you were great. You are the star of liverpool after all." You sweetly smiled.

Trent had the cheeky smile on his face, his eyes lingering on your lips before glancing upward to your eyes. He knew what he was doing to you moving closer to the barrier between the reporters and the players.

You cleared your throat. "You are also the player of the match." You trailed off; Trent leaned closer. Call it the stadium being loud for him to not hear you clearly or he simply wanted to be close to you, to mesmerize the small moles on your face, to engulf himself on your warm scent.

"Are you excited for your next big game against Manchester City?" You inquired. All the back and forth staring and silence with Trent will not colour your supervisor impressed at all. You need to interview someone else that will not . . leave you speechless in minutes.

"Well it depends, to be very honest with you. Will you be in the next game?" Trent further pestered.

You furrowed your eyebrows in slight annoyance at the player for making everything about you while the whole fanbase would want to know more about him.

The cameraman behind you almost dropped his equipment taken back by the question. You did not know . . how to respond to the player who was attacking you with his doe eyes. Nervously, you laughed, "I cannot be certain about that. Are you and your team ready? It is one of the anticipated game of the season." You diverted his topic back to what you needed at the first place.

Trent stared at you without responding to your question, you quickly started shaking your leg anxiously as your eyes lingered at almost all the players leaving to go back to the training ground from the stadium. Your chances were blowing every second Trent silent in front of you.

During this period, you started considering finding other jobs, as you started making mental notes. With thoughts looming around your head, you did not come to realize Trent walked a few steps toward you, nibbling on his bottom teeth. He removed the microphone away from his lips, coming forward for a conversation that is sealed between you and the liverpool player.

You flinched at his hot breathe hitting your skin, as he gently held onto your forearm to keep you in position knowing you will move away from his contact.

You coughed away from his grip. "Have a great day then. We cannot wait till what magic liverpool can bring to Anfield once again."

"And you too, have a great day but i did not quite catch your name." He inquired with his wicked smirk playing on his face. He wants me gone, jobless. Clearly, with zero intention to support my penniless lifestyle.

You smiled, "If you do goal against Manchester City, I will let you know."

"Should we seal the deal with a kiss then, perhaps?"

[lovelyiida]

bakugou and reader being seen as a power couple by the media!

you're my favorite writer here btw

☔

❥: omg I’m your favorite? GUEHEHUEHE

bakugo x (gn) reader, swearing, mentions of suggestive content, protective partner, mentions of arguing

At first, it was mutual trust between the two of you that propelled you to where you are today. Bakugo knew you were a hard worker; you took your title seriously, and most importantly—you kicked ass.

Both of you were paired at Best Jeanist Agency back in high school and only spoke here and there. However, when you both made it to the big leagues, you saw each other more often. Due to the familiarity of being around each other years ago, you began to form a strong bond.

And some strong unknown sexual tension...

When you fought side by side, you were an invincible duo, your quirks complementing each other seamlessly. With your somewhat "healthy" communication (besides a snide comment here and there) skills, you both maintained a very business-friendly relationship.

But the both of you easily saw through that.

Of course, both of you noticed the drawn-out gazes, protective hand placements, and the subtle brush of hands during patrols. It wasn't until sooner or later that the media would catch both of you in a rather steamy slip-up.

A star duo was born!

The relationship was embraced positively by both the media and the general public, particularly during interviews.

“So, Mr. Dynamite…how did you know (hero name) was the one for you?” the bright and bubbly interviewer asked.

Harsh florescent lighting, tight hero suits, a raging headache, 3 hours of sleep, and a single cup of coffee was all it took for Bakugo to snap. Which was impressive because the interview passed the five minute mark.

“Look at them and tell me you wouldn’t wanna [REDACTED] them? That’s why, nothing else, nothing more,” the blonde stated matter-of-factly.

A beat of silence washed over the room, the interviewer left speechless, gazing back at the camera with pleading eyes for a live cut.

Turning towards the interviewer with a smile, you shrug your shoulders with a quick motion and nod.

“Yep, I’d agree with him.”

Boom, 10 million views, an increased paycheck, a higher position on the hero chart, and a multitude of sponsors to choose from.

The people loved both of you.

You were raw, unscripted, intense, and caring. What more did the people not want to see?

Your profound connection was evident to everyone. From the way you seamlessly covered each other on missions to the tender hand squeezes and kisses on the cheek, such as when Bakugo accepted an award at the hero gala.

Publicly and privately, the two of you were a power couple, a dynamic force that some found almost too good to be true. Certain individuals, often claiming to be fans, went to great lengths, attempting to psychoanalyze every move in an effort to discredit your relationship as a mere PR stunt.

These obsessive "fans" even went as far as paying a multitude of hidden paparazzi to spy on both of you, desperately trying to unearth a flaw, a hiccup, or a mistake to exploit. However, whenever it seemed like they might succeed, both of you swiftly shut down any rumors with quickness.

[BREAKING] PRO-HERO COUPLE found arguing at MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR HOME

Yikes, the header photo did appear somewhat convincing.

Bakugo was pictured bellowing at the top of his lungs, and the expression you pulled back wasn’t the sweetest. But, of course, context is key.

Soon, you were sat in front of a camera to do an embarrassing PR apology...

“Just making it clear for all you weirdos out there, Dynamite and I were indeed having an argument... and I apologize that you had to witness a grown man getting worked up over discovering that Iceland is, in fact, not a land covered in ice. It's quite the opposite.”

Later transitioning smoothly into another interview, both of you now share a laugh about it. “I had to explain it to him for almost 20 minutes, and he was genuinely upset. Yelling at me like I'm the crazy one!” You chuckled.

Glancing over, you see Bakugo rest his hand on your thigh and let out a chuckle. “Yeah, and I still think you're [REDACTED] wrong.”

“Language!”

Oh, the power couple you were…

YAY IM FINALLY BACK!

❥: @xo-evangeline , @nar00 , @king-dynamight , @gold24fish , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @elegantvoids , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @snxwycloud , @skylardarling

[anamericangirl]

They’re trying to prosecute Trump for a five year old misdemeanor meanwhile we keep uncovering evidence of fraud from the Biden family. More than 150 reports of suspicious activity regarding Hunter and James Biden. Like nine members of that family have received millions of dollars from the Chinese government??

But no the important crime to go after is Trump allegedly falsifying business records in order to pay hush money to a porn star.

[alphynix]

Strange Symmetries #03: Eerie Early Echinoderms

Represented today by starfish, brittle stars, sea urchins, sea cucumbers, and crinoids, the echinoderms have a characteristic five-way radial symmetry that makes them barely even recognizable as bilaterians. Their true ancestry is only revealed by their genetics and their larvae, which still retain bilateral symmetry – and the way they metamorphose into adults is bizarre, essentially growing a whole new radial body from within the left side of their larval body.

(Sea cucumbers and sand dollars are superficially bilateral as adults, but evolved this secondarily on top of their existing radial symmetry. And some adult echinoderms like starfish also seem to retain a little bit of "behavioral bilaterism", generally preferring to move with a specific arm always acting as their "front" end.)

The first known echinoderms appeared in the fossil record during the early Cambrian, about 525 million years ago, but the common ancestor of the whole group probably actually originated a few tens of millions of years earlier in the mid-to-late Ediacaran. Early echinoderms seem to have started off as flattened animals that sat on the seafloor filter-feeding, and with this largely immobile way of life their bodies started to shift into asymmetry, no longer constrained by the locomotory advantages of being bilaterally symmetric.

In fact, for these early sedentary filter-feeders being radial was actually much more advantageous, able to distribute sense organs all around their bodies and grab food from any direction without having to reposition themselves, converging on the lifestyle of non-bilaterian cnidarian polyps. The evolutionary transition from bilateral to asymmetrical to pentaradial seems to have happened incredibly quickly during the Cambrian Explosion, and all modern echinoderms probably evolved from a group called the edrioasteroids, maintaining their new base body plan even when they later began taking up more mobile lifestyles again.

But during the process of all that some very alien-looking lineages split off at various stages of anatomical weirdness.

Stylophorans had asymmetrical bodies with a single feeding arm at the front, and varied from irregular boot-like shapes to almost bilateral heart shapes depending on their specific ecologies. The highly asymmetrical forms were probably spreading their weight out over soft soupy mud in quiet waters, while the more bilateral forms may have been more streamlined to deal with stronger water currents.

Sokkaejaecystis serrata was a stylophoran that lived during the late Cambrian, about 501-488 million years ago, in what is now South Korea. It was tiny, only about 1cm long (~0.4"), and its boot-shaped body was surrounded by spines and flanges that spread out its surface area and probably also made it much more awkward for small predators to attempt to eat.

———

Meanwhile the solutes started off as immobile animals living attached to the seafloor via a stalk-like appendage. But fairly early in their evolution they switched to a more active mode of life, modifying their stems into tail-like "steles" that were used to push themselves along.

Maennilia estonica lived in what is now Estonia during the late Ordovician, about 450 million years ago. It was quite large for a solute at about 12cm long (~4.7"), with a sort of vaguely-trapezoidal body, a short feeding arm, and a long thin stele.

Both of these strange early echinoderm lineages were surprisingly successful, surviving for a good chunk of the Paleozoic Era alongside their more familiar radial relatives. The solutes lasted until the early Devonian about 400 million years ago, and the stylophorans continued all the way into the late Carboniferous about 310 million years ago.

———

NixIllustration.com | Tumblr | Twitter | Patreon

[moremaybank]

THIS LOVE — j.m

pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader

chapter summary jj faces the possibility of his scandal going public. then, he ends up reconnecting with you after five years. what happens when the two of you end up as costars for your upcoming romantic comedy?

warnings mentions of a sex tape, mentions of domestic abuse (jj and luke), language, violence, sexual content/eventual smut, anxiety. ex best friends to lovers, fake dating. this will be updated as the story develops. [2.2k]

author's note just a little post of the first chapter to build the hype! hope you enjoy and decide to continue reading ♡︎ also special s/o to @mvybanks and @jjsbank444 for beta reading and quelling my nerves &lt;3

recommended listening second chances by kiana ledé ft. 6lack

this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list

❝ CHAPTER ONE ❞

JJ

Threesomes are fun. Foursomes, however, are a blast. 

At least, JJ Maybank seems to think so. 

“You have three different women threatening to release your sex tape. It’s not a good look for you, JJ.”

Well, he does when they don’t include a secretly-filmed sex tape and three fame-thirsty girls trying to ruin his career for a quick cash grab. 

“It’s not like they’re three separate tapes. We were all together when it was made,” JJ smirks. 

Josh, his manager, lets out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t make things any better, and it does nothing to help our circumstances. You need to clean up your act and you need to start doing it now, Maybank, or you’re going to lose everything.”

JJ rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the fifteen minutes that this meeting has been going on. It’s bullshit, really. He’s one of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now. He’s youthful, dashingly handsome, and loaded. The world is his freakin’ oyster, and he deserves to have some fun.

“You’re supposed to keep up your whole approachable, goofy, boy-next-door image intact, and having a ménage à…quatre, is not the way to do it.” my publicist, Andrea, chimes in. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your entire fanbase. You’re one of the most universally-liked celebrities in the business, right now. If this gets out, you’re going to have to kiss your crystal clear reputation goodbye.”

“So, let’s just pay ‘em the hush money. What do I care?” JJ says, taking his cap off and running a hand through his unruly strands.

“And you’re fine with forking over ten million dollars? Just like that?” Andrea scowls. “What if they take the money and still decide to release the tape? Or demand more?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Andrea. Now, are we done here? I’m supposed to meet my co-star for my new movie in an hour and I’d really like to get in another — how did you put it? Ah, yes. Ménage á quatre — before I go.”

Josh runs a hand over his face, “Do you care about anything anymore?” 

JJ ignores his statement, putting his hat back on and sitting up in his chair. “Can I leave?”

He can tell that Josh wants to scold him or make some witty remark in return, but he bites his tongue. 

“Go. And, please, for the love of all things holy, do not screw this up.” 

If JJ had a penny for every time he’s heard that, he’d be richer than Jeff fucking Bezos.

-

Y/N

“And last but not least, this is your dressing room. You’ll have your own trailer, but this is more for when we’re actually on set and in between takes.”

You grin as you look around the luxurious room. There’s a huge vanity in front of you, as well as some plush couches, and you don’t fail to notice the large mini-fridge in the corner of the room or the flat-screen TV plastered onto the wall. There’s a window as well, letting in the California sunshine you’ve come to love and appreciate beyond your beliefs.

“Wow, this is…amazing. I can’t thank you guys enough for this opportunity. I’m so grateful, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You’re the very reason we wanted to do this project in the first place. If anything, we’re the lucky ones,” Derek, the director states with a grin. “So, you ready to meet your co-star, or what?”

“Yeah! I mean, I’m nervous, but, beyond excited.”

Derek leads you back into the hallway, and you make your way to one of the offices. 

“I think you’ll love him. Word is, he comes from the Outer Banks just like you. Who knows, you’ve probably met him in passing.”

Wait…what? He’s from OBX? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“Y/N Y/L/N, meet the esteemed JJ Maybank,” Derek states, his proud smile growing sizeably larger than you thought possible. 

It doesn’t matter how excited he is, though. All you can focus on is your heart beating out of your chest and the ringing in your ears. You see Derek’s lips moving but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are caught on the blonde in front of you, and all you can think about is how painful it is to look into those oceanic eyes after five years.

It’s equally as painful as it was the last time you saw him. If not, more.

“Uh— Y/N, I…it’s— it’s been a while,” JJ stutters out. 

It’s all too much. Seeing him here, in front of you. His eyes locked on yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but retracting once he notices the fear in your gaze. Your eyes flit over to Derek, whose face has a more than confused look painted over his features. 

“Excuse me, Derek, I— I need to get out of here.” 

You speed into the restroom, locking the door behind you and setting your hands on the counter. Your chest tightens, and your breathing speeds up. She shudders, trying to shake it out as the room starts to feel like it’s closing in on you.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this. Don’t let him get to you,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s just…it’s just JJ.”

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you watch as they overtake their boundaries and roll down your flushed cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away, though, refusing to admit defeat. 

“Stop,” you tell yourself. “It’s been five years. You’re better than this.”

You aren’t sure if the words are true to your heart, because all you can think about is how the boy you loved from the ages seven to eighteen — the one who betrayed you and shattered you into a million pieces — is now your co-star for the romantic comedy you’ve just been cast in.

What could possibly go wrong?

A lot, you think. A lot could go wrong. 

JJ

JJ watches as you make your way back into Derek’s office, shooting him a convincing smile.

“My apologies, Derek. Girl troubles,” you say. 

JJ still knows you well enough to see that you’re hoping Derek will believe your bullshit excuse. 

“Oh, uh, no worries at all, Y/N. I completely understand. I’ve got three daughters at home,” he speaks, trying to assure you that everything is fine. He places this hand on JJ’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “JJ, here, was just telling me how the two of you have known each other since you were in elementary school. It must be quite the hell of a reunion, huh?”

You plaster a fake grin onto your lips, “One hell of a reunion, indeed.”

JJ refuses to look at you, his ex-best friend, and vice-versa. Truthfully, he’s terrified to catch your eye again. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to form a coherent sentence if he does. 

“Well, I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

Derek exits his office, and you and JJ are left in complete and utter silence.

God, JJ missed you so much. He’d seen you making headlines just as you always said you would, but he was always quick to click away, deciding not to dwell on everything he’d lost. But this, now, seeing you right in front of him as gorgeous as ever…it made the walls he’d worked so hard to put up begin to crack. 

Then again, you’d always had that effect on him. 

Even after all these years, he was still a complete wreck over you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand and he wasn’t even sure if you knew it.

Your scent was still etched into his mind, still buzzing deep within his senses and his memory. You smelled of the saltwater beaches of the Outer Banks. The notes of coconut from the shampoo he’d recognized still lingering in the tresses of your hair. The sweet hints of vanilla that clutched to your skin are prominent as ever. The combination sounds like a lot, and it was, but not in the overpowering way one would assume. They blended into one heavenly and unique fragrance. 

She smelled like her, he thought. She smelled like home. 

To be honest, JJ wasn’t sure whether or not this was a reminder he wanted to welcome with open arms, but either way, here it was. Here you were. After the way he’d hurt you and destroyed your relationship forever. 

After he lost himself. 

Funnily enough, you’d always had a way of popping up whenever he needed and longed for you. He never even had to speak a single word. You just always knew. And you might not have guessed it now, but he needed you more than he ever had before.

JJ scratches his brow with his index finger. “So, um…how have you been?” 

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleads. He almost wants to get down on his knees and beg. You can’t even look at him, and that hurts more than he could ever put into words.

“No. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fine with being professional while we film this movie, but I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not getting into any of it.”

JJ remains silent, choosing to nod because he’s not totally sure he can find his voice. 

As much as he hated to let the thought in, you were a walking reminder of every bad decision he’d made since he left the island and never looked back. He looked at you, and he saw two things. The first being the crinkling of your bright eyes when you smiled. The melodic laugh he could pull from your lips at a moment’s notice. Your hair blowing in the wind as you stuck your head out the window of John B’s Twinkie. And the second being the look of despise and pain on your face as you confronted him. The mascara-stained tears flowing down your heated cheeks. The way you walked away from him and deliberately chose not to look back and steal a second glance at him. 

How was he expected to act all suave and cool when you were right there in front of him, actively choosing not to even look in his direction?

Truth is, he doesn’t think he can. 

-

JJ glances at his phone once he leaves the production office still shaken by the day’s events. 

2 Missed FaceTime Calls from John B

JJ swipes to the right and watches as his phone rings, awaiting his best friend’s answer while he plops down on the steps in front of the building. The line rings for a few moments before he hears shuffling through the speaker, followed by John B’s face appearing on his screen.

“Hey, man. how was your meeting? Your new costar as hot as we imagined?”

JJ tears his eyes away from the camera, his lip sinking between his teeth. His complexion pales, and John B picks up on it. 

“Jeez. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Because I have,” JJ deadpans. He’s still reeling from your presence, and it shows.

“Huh?”

“It’s Y/N…my costar is Y/N.”

“Ooh, yikes,” John B responds. “Did she nut-punch you?”

“It’s not funny.” 

JJ tugs his cap off as he always does when he’s stressed, and his fingers card through his hair. He tugs lightly at the strands as he tries to alleviate the tension building up in his head. 

“She couldn’t even look at me, John B. Her eyes were on me for all of five seconds before she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Then, when she came back, she looked at everything but me. She barely even let me speak to her.”

“Well, to be fair, you guys didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”

“Yeah, JB. I know. Thanks for the reminder, as if I didn’t fucking know that already.”

“All right, look. Did you fuck up majorly? Yeah. But the love the two of you had…it ran deep. It doesn’t just disappear without a trace, especially if things are this heated after five years. I think you can get her to forgive you.” 

JJ scoffs, “Yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”

John B gives him a knowing look through the screen. 

“You have to tell her the truth, JJ.”

“Funny.”

“J,” John B mildly scolds. “The reason she hates you right now is because you weren’t honest with her. The JJ she knew before that night never would’ve treated her the way you did. Buck up. Tell her.”

The call disconnects, and JJ is left staring at his screen with a tense jaw. He knew John B was right. He was always right. But how on earth was he expected to muster up the courage and tell you the truth about that night? He doubted — no. He knew it’d be impossible to convince you to hear him out. 

Then again, he also knew he had to try. Because he couldn’t stand to be around you nearly every single day for the next few months, knowing that you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.

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