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[autism-corner]

after 4 years of having compsci in highschool i finally fucking understand how to intergrade CSS with HTML jesus.

[hoshifighting]

I can do it for you

— Synopsis: After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch. — WC: 8k — WARNINGS: Smut, fantasy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, sex fluids and... HOUSEWIFE MINGYU?!

You've always been one of those independent souls since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Nobody had to tell you how to tie your shoes or pour your own cereal; you were on it like a hawk on a mouse. That's just how you rolled.

Every morning, without fail, the alarm clock would screech you awake. You'd drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but ready to tackle whatever the day threw at you. Bleary-eyed, you'd stumble out of bed, wishing for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.

Then it was off into the madhouse of morning traffic. Cars honking, people yelling—it was like a scene straight out of a circus. One hand massaging your temple, while the other holds the wheel, again, what would be the excuse about being late for your supervisee?

Once you strutted into the office, it was game time. Arms loaded up with documents, and the sound of your heels echoing through the corridors until you plopped down at your desk. Your boss, with his constant nitpicking, was like a pesky mosquito buzzing around your head, while you practically sizzled your fingertips on the keyboard.

As the end of the month drew near, it was like a race against the clock in the department. Everyone was scrambling to wrap up their projects, racing against time like sprinters gunning for the finish line. The hours seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.

Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were flying left and right, and the clickety-clack of keyboards filled the air like a drumbeat. It was a whirlwind of activity, with no time to spare for even a quick breather.

As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic. 

With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.

You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.

So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.

With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and... 

You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.

You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.

"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.

"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.

"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?

With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.

"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.

"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"

You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"

She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"

Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?

You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.

"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"

The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.

As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.

"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.

With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.

And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.

The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.

After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.

As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.

And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.

You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.

With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.

The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.

Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.

Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.

"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.

"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.

The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.

You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.

But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.

Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."

But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.

You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down. 

You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.

But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.

The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."

Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?

With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.

You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."

Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."

You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.

You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.

The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."

You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.

The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."

"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.

He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant. 

You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.

"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.

He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.

You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.

You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.

The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.

You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?

But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."

Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.

"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.

The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.

As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"

He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.

"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"

The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.

Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.

You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.

[...]

As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.

You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.

But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.

Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.

But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.

With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.

As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.

You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.

"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"

Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.

"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"

Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"

Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.

Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.

As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.

As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.

You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.

You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.

With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.

You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.

"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.

You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."

As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.

Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.

Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.

As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.

With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.

s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.

With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go," 

Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."

You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.

Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."

"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.

It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?

You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes. 

Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.

A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.

You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.

Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.

Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.

As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.

"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.

You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."

Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.

"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"

"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.

After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.

You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.

He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.

"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."

Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"

You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.

"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."

Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."

And in minutes, everything happened. 

You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.

As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.

"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!" 

With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.

Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.

You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.

As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.

"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.

But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.

"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.

As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling pathetically.

"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.

Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"

You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."

And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.

As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing.

And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.

You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze. "I can do whatever you want," he replied.

As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. It was something you had written in your wishbook — a cock that fulfills you — but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.

His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched.

"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.

Mingyu chuckled softly, "Don't worry," he reassured you. "I'll make it fit."

As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter.

You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.

"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you.

You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum. 

As Mingyu continued to tease you, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."

His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally.

You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.

As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction making you roll your eyes, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.

As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly.

"I'm still," he murmured between moans "You're almost cumming."

Your pussy clenched around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.

He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back as you tremble.

No mercy, just like you wanted.

Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.

"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, hm?"

You nodded eagerly, unable to form words.

As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.

You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.

And then it hit you, you came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.

You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.

As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.

But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."

You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."

But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, and you moan satisfied that he didn't stopped.

"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You're almost there, baby. Just hold on..."

As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.

As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance.

"I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.

But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure blinded all of your senses.

You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him.

As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied.

Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.

Mingyu leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Well, I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

[sproutsuds]

Rip Richard Papen you would’ve loved Theodore Decker

Rip Henry Winter you would’ve loved the abundance of obscure historical documents that are now accessible digitally. and also Thesaurus Graecae . com. Well maybe not because you would’ve hated the internet.

Rip Henry Winter you would've hated the 21st century in general

Rip Julian Morrow you would’ve hated the work of Stephanie McCarter and Emily Wilson

Rip Francis Abernathy you would’ve loved Brokeback Mountain, Succession, the Devil Wears Prada, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and many such movies and shows.

Rip Bunny Corcoran (sorry) you would've loved using ur family plan's mobile data for streaming podcasts and audiobooks (especially on 2x speed).

Rip Judy Poovey you would’ve loved matcha flavored flum pebble vapes or whatever they’re called 

Rip Judy Poovey you would’ve loved hot girl (bodies bodies bodies) by Charli xcx

Rip Donna Tartt you would’ve hated what they’re saying about your silly characters on the internet (I know nothing about her or her personality this is just projection) (also wow so meta. get a load of this society amirite.)

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 Vertin's Wheel, Unilogs, Fate and Summoning Analysis

Analysis and theories regarding the suitcase's wheel, unilogs, fate and the process of summoning characters as of the 2.8 patch.

It's been a while since I've written an analysis in this blog, but yesterday I had a sudden realization and after discussing it with the R99 RP server, I decided to properly expand on these ideas in case someone else is interested or can offer more insight!

Just as a heads up, this post will tackle big spoilers from the upcoming CN 2.8 patch!

As usual, the majority transcripts were taken from the R99 Transcript Neocities and the transcript project!

First of all, we must discuss Vertin's suitcase.

By now, everyone probably knows about the way Bluepoch integrates in-game mechanics, items and such as diegetic aspects of the world building--the most known example being Picrasma Candy, an item used by players to recover energy and keep playing, but also a real medicine within the universe of Reverse: 1999 created by Medicine Pocket to enhance an arcanist's own arcanum for a while.

Vertin's suitcase and everything related to it is no different; in the prologue, we see Vertin save Regulus from the "Storm" by taking her into the suitcase, which acts as some sort of pocket dimension with a living space for her team; the Wilderness is also confirmed to be a real space that people can explore, as we see many times throughout the main story and anecdotes; Ms. NewBabel's critter business within the suitcase is also real, being mentioned on advertisements in one of 2.5 Showdown in Chinatown's trails.

In Stage 6 "The Living Past" of the game's prologue, we get introduced to the suitcase proper. This is the only instance we have of Vertin using an incantation to lead Regulus inside the living quarters and Wilderness proper.

Vertin: … Relax, Regulus. I will tell you, but not here. Say this with me … Neirü milde en tiün bonan nokton. Take my hand. Let me take you into the suitcase.

We also get some descriptions of what's inside these living quarters--the majority are various things that Vertin has rescued from previous eras, the most important being the photos and documents about the people she's met across time. She confirms that her suitcase and anything she puts inside can brave the "Storm," and avoid being reversed--we now know that arcanists of all sorts can also do this, a loading screen from the game added during 1.5 "Revival! The Uluru Games" clarifies by stating that humans can enter, but they need to find a "Storm" immune place outside to avoid being reversed. The suitcase is also affected to a degree by external forces--if one were to shake it, the people inside might feel an earthquake. But this also happens on reverse--the seeds Druvis III plants drops inside grow outside of the suitcase and take over the St. Pavlov Foundation's courtyard.

Then we have the spinning wheel and the lake. These two things are introduced immediately after the prologue, in the chapter "In Our Time," Stage 1 "Wretched Brats." We know that Vertin has never been to this part of the Wilderness that holds the lake and the spinning wheel.

The outside scenery keeps changing and changing … What has remained unchanged for ages is the lake and an old spinning wheel. Regulus: *sobs* ... The records ... Don’t nick my records ... Vertin: ...! Her voice doesn’t sound right. I should go and take a look. This is where Vertin has never been.

The lake is said to be surrounded by a mist that causes everyone except Vertin to slowly fall unconscious, and the water of the lake is explicitly rainwater from the "Storm." The spinning wheel has "strange threads" that Vertin describes as two-dimensional and by following this thread, she summons Sonetto into the suitcase.

The line in her hand, technically the line-like thing in her hand which cannot be felt in any way, has gradually formed a path in her sight. And someone is going to be invited over. Spin it as you've done so many times. It's someone familiar. Sonetto: The lake is overflowing. It's cold, just like a flowing line … Wait, where am I?

During the early months of the game, a lot of us assumed that this scene was simply a way to introduce the gacha mechanic in a diegetic way, without truly having an actual impact on the story. And there is also the issue of explaining how could Vertin acquire members from eras outside of the 20th century, such as Charlie, The Fool, Dikke and Nick Bottom, when the main story never take us to their respective eras.

I want to argue that the former statement is not true; the summoning aspect is real within the universe, and that it explains the latter statement, giving a reason for these people to exist within the suitcase. There is already so much that explains game mechanic as diegetic, in-universe aspects that exist, so I don't see why this would be any different!

In 2.8 "Paradise Regained," we get a lot of information that ties in a lot of loose ends and plots set up by previous chapters; this is the patch that confirms Urd is indeed Vertin's mother.

The scene where they find each other is meant to point out the similarities between the two--the cave Urd is in, where the Manus ritual is taking place, also has the same exact mist as both Vertin's suitcase and Apeiron's cave, and it urges Vertin to remember her childhood in SPDM, namely moments in which she interacted with Urd or somehow remembered her but was never able to recognize her as her own mother. A glowing, golden thread, identical to the one that was used to summon Sonetto in the suitcase, leads Vertin to Urd, who has her very own spinning wheel.

The reveal here and all the references in Urd's own character point to the fact that she is, to some extent, fate itself or a weaver of fate. Her namesake comes from Norse Mythology, referencing one of the Norns, one of the three deities that weave the thread of fate and dictate the lives of mortals--Urðr.

Urd explains that, just like Vertin, only she seems to be able to see and sense these golden threads. And she also explains her purpose and calling. Here is my transcript of the spoken dialogue they have, and you can see it here in Merui's stream.

Urd: I will go with you, but not just yet. There is something I must finish, these threads I'm spinning. Vertin: Threads? Urd: Yes. Others don't seem to see them, but I do. It's strange, I don't know what they are but I know how to spin them. Does that sound ridiculous to you? Vertin: Not at all. In fact, I can see them too. But perhaps we should do it together, later when the danger has subsided. Urd: There may not be a later. I must finish this now. Vertin: Why? Is this worth more than your life? Urd: I believe it is. These threads must be spun so the all ruling law may be woven in. That is my purpose, my calling. That is why I was led here. That's why you're here too, is it not? To answer your calling?

Urd's role as the weaver of fate or existence as fate itself was foreshadowed by 6 at the end of Vereinsamt as well, when he talks to one of her many iterations, Ms. Marta.

Marta: I find myself uncertain of which way to go. Would you kindly give me some guidance? 6: The guidance I can offer you is limited, Ms. Marta. I think fate knows its own fate better than anyone.

Urd is aware of her purpose and calling to uphold the concept of fate itself, even if she may not understand it fully. And thus, we can understand that the golden threads being woven in her spinning wheel are the threads of fate--they led Vertin here, after all.

This patch also confirms that Urd was the reason Manus Vindictae's plans failed back in 1999, during the first "Storm," and how they're now using her as a catalyst to fulfill their plan by sabotaging her process of weaving--her spinning wheel above can be seen tainted with the characteristic Manus Vindictae black goo, and they force it to spin, taking the threads of fate into the well where Arcana's heart rests. Compare it to Vertin's own wheel in the suitcase.

This leads us to the following point: Urd guides upholds order through these golden threads, which represent people's fates and lives. Vertin, as her daughter, has a similar ability in relation to the summoning mechanic in-game, which explains why the banners are presented as the spinning of their threads. For example, the Golden Thread banners.

To follow this, I want to point out the other items involved in summoning! For example, the Unilog rabbits--they can come in Decalogs, which is a set of 10 Unilogs, and they can have different variations for the other unique types of banners (Boon of the Water, Promise of the Water, every Limited character banner, etc). But if you pay close attention, you may see that these rabbits contain a golden thread inside.

[UNILOG] The golden rabbit is a well known myth. It spies on people, steals their time, and sometimes even changes their fates. Though it's old, decrepit, and stale, it is unique and indispensable. [DECALOG] The storyteller never thought that golden rabbits could travel in packs. Nobody knows what this might entails, but no one chooses one single rabbit over more of it. [DECATONE] Now you see them, many, many rabbits. They change their appearance, whispering secrets. And you―you know what to do now, don't you?

The fact that they're seemingly made from the same thread of fate discussed before, along with these descriptions talking about stealing time, changing fates and the implication that the one using them--Vertin--knows what to do now, works to explain the gacha aspect as a diegetic feature.

Then, you have drops as a different type of currency--there are two types, Clear and Crystal. These items are explained as the "Storm" raindrops that didn't fully make it upwards before the "Storm" ended, Clear being the raindrops closer to the ground and Crystal being the ones closest to the clouds, hence why the latter are more valuable.

You may turn Crystal drops into Clear drops, and Clear drops into Unilogs, which draws a parallel between the threads of fate and "Storm" rainwater, leading to my next point: If these threads represent an organized and linear fate, "Storm" rainwater is chaotic fate in disarray.

Throughout the game, there is a lot of emphasis on the importance of water. It holds memories and information, the entirety of people's lives and entire eras, both metaphorically and literally. In 2.5, the one thing that remains of Pei City from 1.6 "Notes on Shuori" is one of Yenisei's vials from the river, which is highly coveted by Laplace to study and understand what could've transpired there. Yenisei's own arcanum revolves around the idea that water holds information, and can serve to return home. As mentioned previously, the mist in the Wilderness lake, Aperion's cave and the heart of Antarctica is special--we've seen it urge Vertin to remember, and in 1.4 "Prisoner of the Cave" that very same mist contains the same elements that are immune to the "Storm," Asymmetrical Nuclide R. And, above all, we know that the "Storm" itself takes entire eras away from the linear path of time.

In 2.8, Ulrich concludes that the "Storm" has always meant to be a flood--in 1999, Urd stopped this ritual somehow, and ever since then, every "Storm" has been a failed attempt at flooding the world through this water that will reverse everything to the past.

During Arcana's revival, she summons this very same flood across the entire globe, raising the water level of the entire planet. And the water has the same or even worse effects to the rainwater from the "Storm," as it causes those who touch it to disappear.

Thus, we understand that water is an important aspect of the story, and that this special water from the "Storm"/Flood holds the totality of history and chaos, being related to concepts such as time and space due to the way the "Storm" functions--it absorbs eras and people into it, taking them out of the linear thread of fate.

Hence why a second important aspect of the summoning batters is water. The First Drop of Rain, Abundance of the Water, Invitation from the Water, etc etc. These pictures were taken from the GL Fandom Wiki!

The way Vertin summons people is by weaving the golden thread and throwing Unilogs into the water, as explained by the in-game mail reminding players to use their Decatones before they expire.

All shall return to the waters, to tranquility. Before leaving, don't forget those special little rabbits of yours. Although they may not be able to embark on the next stage of your journey with you, they're more than prepared to jump into the lake.

So you could equate this to Vertin throwing a literal lifeline info the lake of the Wilderness to save and take people from the chaos of history, stealing their time and altering their fate--and because it's "Storm"/Flood water, it's possible to bypass linear timelines, thus reaching characters from beyond the 20th century like Dikke, Nick Bottom, Charlie and The Fool.

There are other details to support this entire theory that I had no idea where to fit in, so they're going here as an extra round!

The Crystal Drops, canonically a much more valuable currency than Crystal Drops, are the currency used to buy different garments--some of these garments are diegetic, meaning that they do exist within the canon of the world (think of Sonetto's free garments that show up throughout the main story, Regulus pilot garment which makes a cameo in 37's anecdote) but some of them are not (6's detective garment from 2.0, we know he doesn't ever leave the island, Voyager's 1.9 garment, or any of the garments from 1.6 as it's physically impossible for any character from Vertin's team to have visited Pei City)

If we remember that drops are "Storm" rainwater and that Crystal drops were closest to the cloud, therefore stronger in their effect, we could explain these non-diegetic garments as Vertin acquiring a glimpse into different or alternate timelines in which these situations are possible. Which would also explain Diggers as a whole, since he's portrayed as his 1.1 "Theft of the Rimet Cup" self as a playable character while his 1.4 garment is actually the canonical fate he suffers in the main story, having joined Manus Vindictae. The only caveat to this is the Grandfather Clock Paradox explained by X and Regulus, which states that it's impossible for two versions of one person to exist at the same time.

Moving on. Unilogs are represented by rabbits, and I'm pretty sure there is no myth regarding golden rabbits that steal time--but Vertin as a character has been officially related to rabbits, like the latest offline masquerade event, or her themes as the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, solidifying her role as the Timekeeper but also someone who also guides others and alters their fate.

Also, Urd, Vertin and Arcana seem to also represent the three Norns of Norse Mythology--as usual, I only had a very surface research reading Wikipedia articles, so if you have more insight on this feel free to correct me. As far as I know, the Norns are tied to three springs or wells scattered in different places, which coincidentally match the three locations in Reverse 1999 that carry the same mist--Vertin's suitcase, Apeiron's cave and the heart of Antarctica, furthering the parallels between these three characters and the concept of fate.

I think that's pretty much everything I wanted to talk about! Thanks to the R99 RP server for hearing me out and fueling my deranged ideas!

[techav]

On Celebrating Errors

Isn't it beautiful? The lovely formatted tables of register and stack contents, the trace of function addresses and parameters, the error message ... it's the most beautiful kernel panic I have ever seen.

Why on earth would I be so excited to see a computer crash? What could possibly be beautiful about a kernel panic?

This kernel panic is well-earned. I fought hard to get it.

This kernel panic came from a current NetBSD kernel, freshly compiled and running on Wrap030, my 68030 homebrew computer. It is the result of hours upon hours of work reading through existing code, scattered documentation and notes, writing and rewriting, and endless compiling.

And it's just the start.

As I've said before, a goal of this project has always been to build something capable of running some kind of Unix-like operating system. Now that I finally have all the necessary pieces of hardware, plus a good bootloader in ROM, it's time to give it a shot. I'm not that great with this type of programming, but I have been getting better. I might just be able to brute force my way through hacking together something functional.

It is hard.

There is some documentation available. The man(9) pages are useful, and NetBSD has a great guide to setting up the build environment for cross-compiling the kernel. There are some published papers on what some people went through to port NetBSD to this system or that. But there's nothing that really explains what all these source code files are, and which parts really need to be modified to run on a different system.

I had a few false starts, but ultimately found an existing 68k architecture, cesfic, which was a bare minimum configuration that could serve well as a foundation for my purposes. I copied the cesfic source directory, changed all instances of the name to wrap030, made sure it still compiled, then set about removing everything that I didn't need. It still compiled, so now it's was time to add in what I did need.

... how ... do I ... ?

This is where things get overwhelming very quickly. There is documentation on the core functions required for a new driver, there's documentation on the autoconf system that attaches drivers to devices in the tree, and there's plenty of drivers already to reference. But where to start?

I started by trying to add the com driver for the 16550 UARTs I'm using. It doesn't compile because I'm missing dependencies. The missing functions are missing because of a breaking change to bus.h at some point; the com driver expects the new format but the cesfic port still uses the old. So I needed to pull in the missing functions from another m68k arch. Which then required more missing functions and headers to be pulled in. Eventually it compiled without error again, but that doesn't mean it will actually run. I still needed to add support for my new programmable timer, customize the startup process, update hardware addresses, make sure it was targeting 68030 instead of 68040 ...

So many parts and pieces that need to be updated. Each one requiring searching for the original function or variable declaration to confirm expected types or implementation, then searching for existing usages to figure out what it needs ... which then requires searching for more functions and variable types.

But I got something that at least appeared to have all the right parts and compiled without error. It was time to throw it on a disk, load it up, and see what happened.

Nothing happened, of course. It crashed immediately.

I have no debugging workflow I can rely on here, and at this stage there isn't even a kernel console yet. All I could do was add little print macros to the locore startup code and see where it failed. Guess, test, and revise.

I spent a week debugging the MMU initialization. If the MMU isn't properly configured, everything comes to an abrupt halt. Ultimately, I replaced the cesfic machine-specific initialization code and pmap bootstrapping code with functions from yet another m68k arch. And spent another day debugging before realizing I had missed a section that had comments suggesting it wasn't for the 68030 CPU, but turned out to be critical for operation of kernel memory allocation.

Until this point, I was able to rely on the low-level exception handling built into my bootloader if my code caused a CPU exception. But with the MMU working, that code was no longer mapped.

So then came another few hours learning how to create a minimal early console driver. An early console is used by the kernel prior to the real console getting initialized. In this case, I'm using the MC6850 on my mainboard for the early console, since that's what my bootloader uses. And finally the kernel was able to speak for itself.

It printed its own panic.

The first thing the kernel does is initialize the console. Which requires that com driver and all the machine-specific code I had to write. The kernel is failing at its step #1.

But at least it can tell me that now. And given all the work necessary to get to this point, that kernel panic data printing to the terminal is absolutely beautiful.

[notoriousaesthetics]

✧ ( 22. 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄 ) ── // LINK a single muse google doc.

───  𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

this is a premium single muse google doc that's inspired by sci-fi esque data loading files, mr robot, halftone design, computer networks and glitches. the easiest way to adjust images is ensuring that you replace them! the drawing assets in the images are pretty easy to replace and change as well by double clicking, feel free to swap the colors of the decorations should you desire! this google doc layout also looks best on desktop! includes: 9 unique custom google doc templates + an additional instruction document that explains the terms of use & further guidelines. disclaimer: ✺ images do not belong to me and are credited to their rightful owners.

───  𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒔𝒆.

PERMITTED

customizing the templates, including changing colors, adding or removing elements, replacing images, and more.

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[mariacallous]

When most Americans think of fascism, they picture a Hitlerian hellscape of dramatic action: police raids, violent coups, mass executions. Indeed, such was the savagery of Nazi Germany, Stalinist Russia, and Vichy France. But what many people don’t appreciate about tyranny is its “banality,” Timothy Snyder tells me. “We don’t imagine how a regime change is going to be at the dinner table. The regime change is going to be on the sidewalk. It’s going to be in your whole life.”

Snyder, a Yale history professor and leading scholar of Soviet Russia, was patching into Zoom from a hotel room in Kyiv, where the specter of authoritarianism looms large as Ukraine remains steeped in a yearslong military siege by Vladimir Putin. It was late at night and he was still winding down from, and gearing up for, a packed schedule—from launching an institution dedicated to the documentation of the war, to fundraising for robotic-demining development, to organizing a conference for a new Ukrainian history project. “I’ve had kind of a long day and a long week, and if this were going to be my sartorial first appearance in Vanity Fair, I would really want it to go otherwise,” he joked.

But the rest of our conversation was no laughing matter. It largely centered, to little surprise, on Donald Trump and how the former president has put America on a glide path to fascism. Too many commentators were late to realize this. Snyder, however, has been sounding the alarm since the dawn of Trumpism itself, invoking the cautionary tales of fascist history in his 2017 book, On Tyranny, and in The Road to Unfreedom the year after. It’s been six years since the latter, and Snyder is now out with a new book, On Freedom, a personal and philosophical attempt to flip the valence of America’s most lauded—and loaded—word. “We Americans tend to think that freedom is a matter of things being cleared away, and that capitalism does that work for us. It is a trap to believe in this,” he writes. “Freedom is not an absence but a presence, a life in which we choose multiple commitments and realize combinations of them in the world.”

In an interview with Vanity Fair, which has been edited for length and clarity, Snyder unpacks America’s “strongman fantasy,” encourages Democrats to reclaim the concept of freedom, and critiques journalists for pushing a “war fatigue” narrative about the Russian invasion of Ukraine. “There’s just something so odd about Americans being tired of this war. We can get bored of it or whatever, but how can we be tired?” he asks. “We’re not doing a damn thing.”

Vanity Fair: The things we associate with freedom—free speech, religious liberty—have been co-opted by the Republican Party. Do you think you could walk me through how that happened historically and how Democrats could take that word back?

Timothy Snyder: Yeah. I think the way it happened historically is actually quite dark there. There’s an innocent way of talking about this, which is to say, “Oh, some people believe in negative freedom and some people believe in positive freedom—and negative freedom just means less government and positive freedom means more government.” And when you say it like that, it just sounds like a question of taste. And who knows who’s right?

Whereas historically speaking, to answer your question, the reason why people believe in negative freedom is that they’re enslaving other people, or they are oppressing women, or both. The reason why you say freedom is just keeping the government off my back is that the central government is the only force that’s ever going to enfranchise those slaves. It’s the only force which is ever going to give votes to those women. And so that’s where negative freedom comes from. I’m not saying that everybody who believes in negative freedom now owns slaves or oppresses women, but that’s the tradition. That’s the reason why you would think freedom is negative, which on its face is a totally implausible idea. I mean, the notion that you can just be free because there’s no government makes no sense, unless you’re a heavily drugged anarchist.

And so, as the Republican Party has also become the party of race in our country, it’s become the party of small government. Unfortunately, this idea of freedom then goes along for the ride, because freedom becomes freedom from government. And then the next step is freedom becomes freedom for the market. That seems like a small step, but it’s a huge step because if we believe in free markets, that means that we actually have duties to the market. And Americans have by and large accepted that, even pretty far into the center or into the left. If you say that term, “free market,” Americans pretty generally won’t stop you and say, “Oh, there’s something problematic about that.” But there really is: If the market is free, that means that you have a duty to the market, and the duty is to make sure the government doesn’t intervene in it. And once you make that step, you suddenly find yourself willing to accept that, well, everybody of course has a right to advertise, and I don’t have a right to be free of it. Or freedom of speech isn’t really for me; freedom of speech is for the internet.

And that’s, to a large measure, the world we live in.

You have a quote in the book about this that distills it well: “The countries where people tend to think of freedom as freedom to are doing better by our own measures, which tend to focus on freedom from.”

Yeah, thanks for pulling that out. Even I was a little bit struck by that one. Because if you’re American and you talk about freedom all the time and you also spend all your time judging other countries on freedom, and you decide what the measures are, then you should be close to the top of the list—but you’re not. And then you ask, “Why is that?” When you look at countries like Sweden, Norway, Denmark, France, Germany, or Ireland—that are way ahead of us—they’re having a different conversation about freedom. They don’t seem to talk about freedom as much as we do, but then when they do, they talk about it in terms of enabling people to do things.

And then you realize that an enabled population, a population that has health care and retirement and reliable schools, may be better at defending things like the right to vote and the right to freedom of religion and the right to freedom of speech—the things that we think are essential to freedom. And then you realize, Oh, wait, there can be a positive loop between freedom to and freedom from. And this is the big thing that Americans get a hundred percent wrong. We think there’s a tragic choice between freedom from and freedom to—that you’ve got to choose between negative freedom and positive freedom. And that’s entirely wrong.

What do you make of Kamala Harris’s attempt to redeem the word?

It makes me happy if it’s at the center of a political discussion. And by the way, going back to your first question, it’s interesting how the American right has actually retreated from freedom. It has been central for them for half a century, but they are now actually retreating from it, and they’ve left the ground open for the Democrats. So, politically, I’m glad they’re seizing it—not just because I want them to win, but also because I think on the center left or wherever she is, there’s more of a chance for the word to take on a fuller meaning. Because so long as the Republicans can control the word, it’s always going to mean negative freedom.

I can’t judge the politics that well, but I think it’s philosophically correct and I think we end up being truer to ourselves. Because my big underlying concern as an American is that we have this word which we’ve boxed into a corner and then beaten the pulp out of, and it really doesn’t mean anything anymore. And yet it’s the only imaginable central concept I can think of for American political theory or American political life.

Yeah, it’s conducive to the joy-and-optimism approach that the Democrats are taking to the campaign. Freedom to is about enfranchisement; it’s about empowerment; it’s about mobility.

Totally. Can I jump in there with another thought?

Of course.

I think JD Vance is the logical extension of where freedom as freedom from gets you. Because one of the things you say when freedom is negative—when it’s just freedom from—is that the government is bad, right? You say the government is bad because it’s suppressive. But then you also say government is bad because it can’t do anything. It’s incompetent and it’s dysfunctional. And it’s a small step from there to a JD Vance–type figure who is a doomer, right? He’s a doomer about everything. His politics is a politics of impotence. His whole idea is that government will fail at everything—that there’s no point using government, and in fact, life is just sort of terrible in general. And the only way to lead in life is to kind of be snarky about other people. That’s the whole JD Vance political philosophy. It’s like, “I’m impotent. You’re impotent. We’re all impotent. And therefore let’s be angry.”

Did you watch the debate?

No, I’m afraid I didn’t. I’m in the wrong time zone.

There was a moment that struck me, and I think it would strike you too: Donald Trump openly praised Viktor Orbán, as he has done repeatedly in the past. But he said, explicitly, Orbán is a good guy because he’s a “strongman,” which is a word that he clearly takes to be a compliment, not derogatory. You’ve written about the strongman fantasy in your Substack, so I’m curious: What do you think Trump is appealing to here?

Well, I’m going to answer it in a slightly different way, and then I’ll go back to the way you mean it. I think he’s tapping into one of his own inner fantasies. I think he looks around the world and he sees that there’s a person like Orbán, who’s taken a constitutional system and climbed out of it and has managed to go from being a normal prime minister to essentially being an extraconstitutional figure. And I think that’s what Trump wants for himself. And then, of course, the next step is a Putin-type figure, where he’s now an unquestioned dictator.

For the rest of us, I think he’s tapping—in a minor key—into inexperience, and that was my strongman piece that you kindly mentioned. Americans don’t really think through what it would mean to have a government without the rule of law and the possibility of throwing the bums out. I think we just haven’t thought that through in all of its banality: the neighbors denouncing you, your kids not having social mobility because you maybe did something wrong, having to be afraid all the damn time. African Americans and some immigrants have a sense of this, but in general, Americans don’t get that. They don’t get what that would be like.

So that’s a minor key. The major key, though, is the 20% or so of Americans who really, I think, authentically do want an authoritarian regime, because they would prefer to identify personally with a leader figure and feel good about it rather than enjoy freedom.

You mentioned the word banality, which makes me think of Hannah Arendt’s theory of the “banality of evil.” What would the banality of authoritarianism look like in America?

So let me first talk about the nonbanality of evil, because our version of evil is something like, and I don’t want to be too mean, but it’s something like this: A giant monster rises out of the ocean and then we get it with our F-16s or F-35s or whatever. That’s our version of evil. It’s corporeal, it’s obviously bad, and it can be defeated by dramatic acts of violence.

And we apply that to figures like Hitler or Stalin, and we think, Okay, what happened with Hitler was that he was suddenly defeated by a war. Of course he was defeated by a war, but he did some dramatic and violent things to come to power, but his coming to power also involved a million banalities. It involved a million assimilations, a million changes of what we think of as normal. And it’s our ability to make things normal and abnormal which is so terrifying. It’s like an animal instinct on our part: We can tell what the power wants us to do, and if we don’t think about it, we then do it. In authoritarian conditions, this means that we realize, Oh, the law doesn’t really apply anymore. That means my neighbor could have denounced me for anything, and so I better denounce my neighbor first. And before you know it, you’re in a completely different society, and the banality here is that instead of just walking down the street thinking about your own stuff, you’re thinking, Wait a minute, which of my neighbors is going to denounce me?

Americans think all the time about getting their kids into the right school. What happens in an authoritarian country is that all of that access to social mobility becomes determined by obedience. And as a parent, suddenly you realize you have to be publicly loyal all the time, because one little black mark against you ruins your child’s future. And that’s the banality right there. In Russia, everybody lives like that, because any little thing you do wrong, and your kid has no chance. They get thrown out of school; they can’t go to university.

We don’t imagine how a regime change is going to be at the dinner table. The regime change is going to be on the sidewalk. It’s going to be in your whole life. It’s not going to be some external thing. It’s not like this strongman is just going to be some bad person in the White House, and then eventually the good guys will come and knock him out. When the regime changes, you change and you adapt, and you look around as everyone else is adapting and you realize, Well, everyone else adapting is a new reality for me, and I’m probably going to have to adapt too. Trump wants to be a strongman. He’s already tried a ​​ coup d’état. He makes it clear that he wants to be a different regime. And so if you vote him in, you’re basically saying, “Okay, strongman, tell me how to adapt.”

Yeah, we could talk about Project 2025 all day. This new effort to bureaucratize tyranny—which was not in place in 2020—could really make the banal aspect a reality because it’s enforced by the administrative state, which is going to be felt by Americans at a quotidian level.

I agree with what you say. If I were in business, I would be terrified of Project 2025 because what it’s going to lead to is favoritism. You’re never going to get approvals for your stuff unless you’re politically close to administration. It’s going to push us toward a more Hungary-like situation, where the president’s pals’ or Jared Kushner’s pals’ companies are going to do fine. But everybody else is going to have to pay bribes. Everyone else is going to have to make friends.

It’s anticompetitive.

Yeah, it’s going to generate a very, very uneven playing field where certain people are going to be favored and become oligarchs. And most of the rest of us are going to have a hard time. Also, the 40,000 [loyalists Trump wants to replace the administrative state with] are going to be completely incompetent. When people stop getting their Social Security checks, they’re going to realize that the federal government—which they’ve been told is so dysfunctional—actually did do some things. It’s going to be chaos. The only way to get anything done is to have a phone number where you can call somebody at someplace in the government and say, “Make my thing a priority.” The chaos of the administration state feeds into the strongman thing. And since that’s true, the strongman view starts to become natural for you because it’s the only way to get anything done.

You’ve studied Russian information warfare pretty extensively. A few weeks ago the Justice Department indicted two employees of the Russian state media outlet RT for their role in surreptitiously funding a right-wing US media outfit as part of a foreign-influence-peddling scheme, which saw them pull the wool over a bunch of right-wing media personalities. Do you think this type of thing is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Russian information warfare?

Of course. It’s the tip of the iceberg, and I want to refer back to 2016. It was much bigger in 2016 than we recognized at the time. The things that the Obama administration was concerned with—like the actual penetration of state voting systems and stuff—that was really just nothing compared to all of the internet stuff they had going. And we basically caught zilcho of that before the election itself. And I think the federal government is more aware of it this time, but also the Russians are doing different things this time, no doubt.

I’m afraid what I think is that there are probably an awful lot of people who are doing this—including people who are much more important in the media than those guys—and that there’s just no way we’re going to catch very many of them before November. That’s my gut feeling.

While we’re on Russia, I do want to talk about Ukraine, especially since you’re there right now. I think one of the most unfortunate aspects of [the media’s coverage of] foreign wars—the Ukraine war and also the Israel-Hamas war—is just the way they inevitably fade into the background of the American news cycle, especially if no American boots are on the ground. I’m curious if this dynamic frustrates you as a historian.

Oh, a couple points there. One is, I’m going to point out slightly mean-spiritedly that the stories about war fatigue in Ukraine began in March 2022. As a historian, I am a little bit upset at journalists. I don’t mean the good ones. I don’t mean the guys I just saw who just came back from the front. [I mean] the people who are sitting in DC or New York or wherever, who immediately ginned up this notion of war fatigue and kept asking everybody from the beginning, “When are you going to get tired of this war?” We turned war fatigue into a topos almost instantaneously. And I found that really irresponsible because you’re affecting the discourse. But also, I feel like there was a kind of inbuilt laziness into it. If war fatigue sets in right away, then you have an excuse never to go to the country, and you have an excuse never to figure out what’s going on, and you have an excuse never to figure out why it’s important.

So I was really upset by that, and also because there’s just something so odd about Americans being tired of this war. We can get bored of it or whatever, but how can we be tired? We’re not doing a damn thing. We’re doing nothing. I mean, there’s some great individual Americans who are volunteering and giving supplies and stuff, but as a country, we’re not doing a damn thing. I mean, a tiny percentage of our defense budget—which would be going to other stuff anyway—insead goes to Ukraine.

And by the way, Ukrainians understand that Americans have other things to think about. I was not very far from the front three days ago talking to soldiers, and their basic attitude about the election and us was, like, “Yeah, you got your own things to think about. We understand. It’s not your war.” But as a historian, the thing which troubles me is pace, because with time, all kinds of resources wear down. And the most painful is the Ukrainian human resource. That’s probably a terribly euphemistic word, but people die and people get wounded and people get traumatized. Your own side runs out of stuff.

We were played by the Russians, psychologically, about the way wars are fought. And that stretched out the war. That’s the thing which bothers me most. You win wars with pace and you win wars with surprise. You don’t win wars by allowing the other side to dictate what the rules are and stretching everything out, which is basically what’s happened. And with that has come a certain amount of American distraction and changing the subject and impatience. I think journalists have made a mistake by making it into a kind of consumer thing where they’re sort of instructing the public that it’s okay to be bored or fatigued. And then I think the Biden administration made a mistake by not doing things at pace and allowing every decision to take weeks and months and so on.

What do you think another Trump presidency would mean for the war and for America’s commitment to Ukraine?

I think Trump switches sides and puts American power on the Russian side, effectively. I think Trump cuts off. He’s a bad dealmaker—that’s the problem. I mean, he’s a good entertainer. He’s very talented; he’s very charismatic. In his way, he’s very intelligent, but he’s not a good dealmaker. And a) ending wars is not a deal the way that buying a building is a deal, and b) even if it were, he’s consistently made bad deals his whole career and lost out and gone bankrupt.

So you can’t really trust him with something like this, even if his intentions were good—and I don’t think his intentions are good. Going back to the strongman thing, I think he believes that it’s right and good that the strong defeat and dominate the weak. And I think in his instinctual view of the world, Putin is pretty much the paradigmatic strongman—the one that he admires the most. And because he thinks Putin is strong, Putin will win. The sad irony of all this is that we are so much stronger than Russia. And in my view, the only way Russia can really win is if we flip or if we do nothing. So, because Trump himself is so psychologically weak and wants to look up to another strongman, I think he’s going to flip. But even if I’m wrong about that, I think he’s incompetent to deal with a situation like this. Because he wants the quick affirmation of a deal. And if the other side knows you’re in a hurry, then you’ve already lost from the beginning.

[ann1-wr1tes]

Tiring Exams

Synopsis: You are dead set on studying for your finals that you don't notice when your boyfriend calls you...(I suck at summarizing)

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1,339

A/N: I dug up this old fic I wrote like last year. Hopefully this somewhat makes up for my lack of content and my nonexistence on this blog lmao-

----

You narrow your eyes at the paper in front of you. Your mind seems to be running so quickly but also somehow not at all? If that was even possible. You just focuses your eyes on the words that were on the paper in front of you and you swore this must've been your fifth time rereading this one sentence, but for some reason your brain just wouldn't put any of it together. None of it was sticking like it should!

You let out an exasperated sigh and rub your eyes and head tiredly. These damn final projects and exams were going to be the death of you. You also thought that if you had to reread this sentence one more time…you may just combust. Your mind just felt like it was bursting at the seams with overwhelming and frustrating thoughts. But alas, that was what exams were all about right?

You take a deep breath and look at your wall for a moment. Your eyes needed to look at something that wasn't a stark white piece of paper, covered in a jumble of words that you for some reason couldn't read or understand. You take a few moments to clear your mind and then you finally look back down at the paper and you reread over the words, this time they somewhat stick.

Your eyes continue to scan over the rest of the article and suddenly your phone is vibrating. You can feel the vibration going through the table and you are snapped out of you trance when you see the contact picture of your boyfriend on the screen of your phone.

You frown. Oh, how you wished that you could answer so badly. What you would give to hear Leon's voice right now but with a sad sigh you decline the call and toss it onto your bed. You couldn't have any distractions…..you had to finish this.

Leon felt his heart pick up just a little bit when you didn't answer his call. He knew that it was normal for people not to answer calls. Everyone had a life, you included so maybe you were just busy. Just for extra measure though, Leon made sure to leave a voice mail, telling you to call him back just so he could check in on you and say hi.

Maybe it was for the best anyways. He knew you had been busy lately studying for finals and he himself was busy with work, so no worries. That's what he tried telling himself.

Though Leon couldn't help it. After the events of Raccoon City, then Spain and so on, he didn't like to leave you alone for too long. He was always calling you, checking in on you, making sure everything was okay and that you didn't need anything. Even now, when he was always busy, he still tried his hardest to make time to just talk to you. To just hear your angelic voice that he adored so much.

But you were busy right now. No problem.

After that he busied himself with looking at files, documents, doing loads and loads of paperwork that practically bored him to death but at least he wasn't getting thrown around or hunted by B.O.W.S or zombies.

Little did Leon know, that right now you were also drowning in boredom.

Later in the day, he was about to go home and he still hadn't hear from you. As much as he tried to reassure himself that you were fine, he felt nervous. Usually you would have called him by now, or at least send him a text saying what you were doing or how you were, but he had gotten nothing from you and it was nearing dinner time.

Right when he got out of work, he immediately grabbed his phone and dialed your number as he made his way out to the parking lot to hop on his bike. He dialed your number and it just rang. You didn't pick up. To Leon, that was a big red flag and he decided that right when he got on his bike, he was gonna stop by your place to make sure you were okay.

He made sure to zoom over to your place as quickly as he could and with baited breath, he parked in your driveway and knocked on your door.

No answer.

He could feel his heart rate quicken as he knocks again and listens for any sounds on the other side. He doesn't hear any movement or talking coming from the other side and even worse, he doesn't hear the television going. It was silent and that did not sit well with him.

Leon didn't bother to knock again. Instead he bent down and lifted up your doorstep mat where he knew you kept the spare key to your house. Leon snatches it off the ground and is quick to unlock your front door and he rushes in, almost forgetting to close your door.

He calls out for you a few times, but there's still no response. That's when his eyes dart around your apartment, searching for signs of maybe a break in, or something gone wrong but everything is fine. Nothing is out of place, nothing seems to be out of the norm so that's when he rushes upstairs.

He opens your bedroom door and freezes. His heart rate is beating practically a mile a minute and he lets out a quiet breath of relief when he sees your smaller form, curled up in your bed fast asleep with numerous plushies and stuffed animals that he had gotten you.

Gosh he was just so worried. What if something happened to you? Or if you had gotten hurt? No…no…its okay, you are okay. You were just sleeping he tells himself. He takes a deep breath and quietly closes the door behind him as he glances at your table.

On your table lays all your project papers and even your laptop that is still halfway open and opened up to a tab that is full of the work that you had been doing all day. No wonder you were practically passed out. Seems like a lot of your energy was used on finishing those stupid exams and projects.

With a sigh he shuts your laptop and glances back at your sleeping form. It made his heart flutter a bit in his chest. You looked beautiful. Stunning even. It was just the raw look of peace on your face as you snoozed away, huddled up in a pile of blankets and stuffed animals. It was all quite adorable and Leon couldn't stop the smile that carved its way onto his face as he stepped a bit closer, slipping out of shoes and sitting them on the floor, next to your bed. He then shrugs off his leather jacket as well and rests against your bedpost.

As quietly as he could, he neared your bed and gently grazed your cheek with his thumb. It was just a little reminder to himself that you were okay and were in fact right there in front of him.

Now as sneakily as Leon can, he pulls away some of the blankets and slowly slips in behind you. You can feel a sudden warmth press up against your back and a big pair of sturdy, strong arms wrap around you from behind and pull you closer. Even in your sleep ridden mind, you know its Leon.

You shuffle a bit, not fully waking up but to where you are half asleep. You turn your body towards Leon and you grasp onto him, nuzzling your face into his neck with a sleepy sigh.

"You sure did tire yourself out, huh sweetheart?" Leon whispers gently. He laughs softly when you give him an airy whine as you nuzzle closer into him.

His hands trail up your back and he runs his fingers through your hair softly. It was moments like these where he just thought everything was perfect.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

You're nervous, early to the Zoom meeting. Graduation is looming and you still have no internship. Now you're trying your luck at an ad agency. Finally it's time for introductions and youre condused. You've been emailing the creative director and yet there's a young Australian man smiling at you. Little do you know its your future boss

Creative Director! Oscar, loves you from the get-go. Your interview even goes over the allocated time because there's just so much to discuss. He hasn't seen anyone this excited to join an agency, even if you have no background in advertising yet.

Creative Director! Oscar, who makes you sit across from him, so he can keep an eye on "his only intern". There's always an opportunity for him to cross over to your desk and give you a task or ask you something.

Creative Director! Oscar, who is always giving you feedback. Filling out extra documents from your university, meeting your teachers, all and all mentoring you. All this extra time with you makes you grow closer.

Creative Director! Oscar, who goes above and beyond in coaching you. Giving you different projects and treating you like a full fledged team memeber and not just an intern.

Creative Director! Oscar, who lends you books and sends you articles. As you grow closer, he even gets your Instagram and you two exchange memes and maybe sometimes a little flirtatious message.

Creative Director! Oscar, who takes you out of lunch to drive to client meetings. He makes you suck him off, cockwarm him with your mouth until he's calm. If you get the pitch, it's home office time where he fucks you to celebrate.

Creative Director! Oscar, who doesn't let you or anyone at the office call him anything ,but his first name. No sir, no boss, no nothing. But he has you in bed, you're begging for Mr. Piastri's cock or you're not getting anything at all.

Creative Director! Oscar, who loves that you're writing about your experience on LinkedIn. Only he insists to meticulously check every article, fingers buried in your cunt during feedback. You're not posting until you come.

Creative Director! Oscar, who is usually kind and sweet but sometimes absolutely degrades you to hell and back. You're just a cocksleeve he hired to pump his loads in. Hope that's okay with you, sweetheart.

Let's debrief about him in my inbox <3

[duribidara]

please please tell me more about your mingi and raiden thoughts because i too am obsessed with the way mingi essentially sets his sights on these older men, bats his eyelashes, and says “please take care of me”

hey there anon! i'm sorry it took me so long to respond lol i hope u haven't forgotten u dropped me an ask :"))

anw ur question is such a Loaded one bc what kind of raiden + mingi thoughts are we talking abt here?? let's start w/ the ones i can say on tumblr w/o utilizing the nsf/w tag, shall we?

• i think it's interesting how two of their public appearances together were at prestigious events and yet they (esp mg) seem to prefer keeping everything on the dl. until they deem it proper to slap us right on the face w/ the collab of a lifetime, that is. ps. pls watch rd's full set pls pls pls he's so GOOD.

[note: linking u to an oomf's posts bc i was the one who sent her the rd+mg anons! her insights are also very brain worm inducing, btw. very worth reading (ilu noé💕)]

• i said on this post how crazy it was that mg managed to get a skilled, experienced, established dj to remix a song of his that's essentially a very personal project meant to document n showcase his growth as an artist. it's quite...intimate, is perhaps the word i'd choose, at the risk of sounding deranged. the pragmatic part of me keeps insisting that yeah, ofc Autobahn is the obvious choice from a technical standpoint: the overall mood of the song is very fitting for a rave, and it can easily be performed live w/ just mg performing the song (still waiting for yunmin to join him on stage someday btw. fingers crossed). but all the previous things i mentioned pointed to the possibility that rd started remixing Autobahn w/ every intention of bringing mg to join him on stage. an edm stage, where a lot of ppl in the audience might not know who mg or atz is. it seems to me that rd was confident that mg would seamlessly fit into the his set (he did), and it speaks to how close they are as artists. that's...another thing to keep in mind, i guess?

so maybe mingi did bat his eyelashes at raiden. not just to ask to be taken care of, though, bc while mg is an adorable, curious, kind dongsaeng who listens well (most of the time), he's also outspoken, honest (sometimes to a fault), pragmatic, and most importantly: he knows his worth. he knows the value he brings into a relationship, and as he's said himself: it's important to be humble without putting urself down. maybe that's smg's appeal to ppl who are older than him, that confounding cocktail of dogged, fiery ambitions n a somewhat naive, earnest, and mischievous charm. or i'm just insane lol

[dakusan]

Hello I worship at the altar of you and your beautiful wrinkly brain 🙂‍↕️ I have been very curious about one Yang JEONGIN and evolving/ascending abnormals.

1) is it like vampire puberty? Do they go through wild hormonal rages?

2) does he know what’s happening to him?

3) how???

I await your response with bated breath 😌

Xoxo, 🐉

my pretty dragon~ welcome to the blood roster, 🐉. you now have unrestricted lab access. this one’s not just lore. this is virology with fangs.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🧬 THE EVOLUTION OF JEONGIN

A Study in Mutation, Awakening, and Biological Betrayal

First: no. There’s no such thing as vampire puberty. No hormonal surges. No emotional teenager tantrums with fangs. That’s human projection.

What does happen? Is mutation. Spontaneous. Violent. Permanent.

WHAT THE FUCK IS AN ABNORMAL?

Ask any vampire scholar and they’ll give you three words:

“Gods made wrong.”

Abnormals aren’t turned. They aren’t infected. They aren’t created through magic or ritual. They are born — but they are not born right.

🩸 THE LEADING THEORY: GENETIC MUTATION

Vampire scientists call it the X-𝜃 gene — unofficially known as the Abnormality Mutation. It is not inherited in a classic Mendelian pattern. It breaks genetic logic. And it defies magical bloodline predictions.

The first recorded Abnormal? Born to two normal vampires. No family history. No known spell damage. But from birth: accelerated development, uncontrolled bloodlust, and an aura that melted wards on contact. Doctors tried magical suppression. Witches attempted blood-stabilization rituals. Nothing worked.

They could not suppress what never obeyed laws to begin with.

🔬 CURRENT WORKING MODEL: A RARE, SPONTANEOUS MUTATION

The X-𝜃 gene appears to:

Override standard vampire regulatory genes (e.g. those controlling bloodlust thresholds, regenerative speed, magical dampening)

Create non-linear power responses (i.e. feedback loops, surges, uncontrolled magic under stress)

Disrupt circadian/sunlight sensitivity genes entirely

Stimulate non-traditional energy pathways (Abnormals can metabolize emotional input: fear, lust, devotion)

The problem? There’s no single genetic pattern. It doesn’t run cleanly in families. It skips generations, reappears randomly, sometimes even activates mid-life (see: Jeongin).

🩸 ADDITIONAL HYPOTHESES:

✦ 1. Magical Environmental Trigger

Some believe the mutation is not fully genetic — that it lies dormant and is triggered by exposure to certain ancient magics, trauma, or spiritual fractures. This would explain:

Delayed awakenings (like Jeongin at 18)

Abnormals emerging from formerly Normal bloodlines

✦ 2. The “Reversion Theory”

Proposed by a rogue scholar. He states that Abnormals are not new — but a reversion to the original vampire species, pre-civilization. Before rules. Before enchantments. The “gods made wrong” weren’t wrong — they were just too real.

“Abnormals are the truth of vampirism, buried under generations of domestication.”

Most vampires refuse to acknowledge this theory due to its existential implications.

✦ 3. The Anti-Evolution Hypothesis

Some researchers believe the Abnormal mutation is a flawed evolutionary hiccup — one that grants immense power but guarantees instability. Like giving a child a loaded weapon: Powerful, yes — but self-destructive unless anchored by extreme regulation.

This is why Chan, despite being born Abnormal, still works tirelessly through Nocte Labs to decode it. He’s not trying to erase it. He’s trying to survive it.

“Just because I was born this way doesn’t mean I understand it. It’s still eating us alive.” — Chan, confidential Nocte memo

⚠️ WHY IT MATTERS FOR JEONGIN

Jeongin is an active subject in Chan’s ongoing mutation studies. Because he is the only documented case of a Normal born vampire:

From two Normal parents

Who began Awakening into Abnormality in early adulthood

And is approaching his biological lock age of 25

This makes Jeongin a biological anomaly inside an anomaly. And the moment he turns 25 — his cellular structure will “freeze,” locking in whatever he has become. Chan suspects he will fully Ascend.

But no one knows what a late bloomer Abnormal truly looks like after the lock. There are no records. There are no survivors.

🔎 JEONGIN: CASE STUDY

Born Normal. Normal parents. Normal bloodline. Nothing immediately strange. But when Jeongin turned 18, his body stopped obeying Normal limits.

Symptoms began:

Walking in sunlight without enchanted protection (should have burned — didn’t).

Uncontrolled sensory spikes. Could smell a lie across the room.

Pulse acceleration under moonlight.

Strength fluctuations. Once bent metal by accident.

Chan, having seen Abnormals before (and being one himself), noticed. And he’s been monitoring Jeongin ever since.

❓ WHAT IS HE NOW?

Jeongin is what vampire scientists call an Awakening Abnormal. A transitional state where the mutation is active, but not dominant.

He still has:

Some Normal weaknesses (e.g., minor sun fatigue after long exposure)

Normal magic stability

Emotional bond sensitivity

But increasingly, he also shows:

Feral reflexes under threat

Blood scent tracking

No need for glamour spells

Momentary time-bending speed

Vein bloom when angered — hallmark Abnormal sign

🎂 VAMPIRE AGING : WHY IT MATTERS

Vampires “lock” in their physical age at 21 or 25, depending on bloodline strength.

Jeongin is currently 24. Once he hits 25, his biology will lock — and if the Abnormal trait dominates by then, it becomes permanent.

Chan believes this is inevitable.

WHEN HE ASCENDS…

Once the full mutation takes hold, Jeongin will:

No longer require blood as frequently (Abnormals metabolize it differently)

Lose all sunlight sensitivity

Be immune to holy relics and emotional glamours

Become capable of soul-affecting speed and strength

Risk Overload Feedback if not stabilized (i.e., seizures, bloodcry, internal rupture)

Chan is currently working with Nocte Labs to design a stabilization ritual — something to help Jeongin maintain control once he ascends.

Because once he’s fully Abnormal? He can no longer afford to just “feel things.” Rage. Desire. Panic. All become weapons.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🐉 anon, your curiosity just opened a major lore vein. thank you for the ask, come again any time 💋🦇

[askagamedev]

On the topic of old temporary solutions, how is the hacky solutions explained when a new hire is brought in to work on a game or an entire new guard comes in to keep an older game updated with content or running? Do you get a bunch of instructions like “don’t touch this code from E3 2018, as everything breaks when anything changes it” or is learning old code debt left to trial and error for new blood?

People don't often question why things are the way they are. We typically accept the explanation of "these things have always been this way" as a valid reason for most things, and that includes the tribal people who didn't eat certain things out of tradition and not because they knew that those forbidden foods were poisonous or toxic.

In my experience all code, hacky or not, tends to be like Chesterton's Fence. You are best served not modifying or changing it until you know why it's there. This is primarily because of unforeseen side effects or other parts of the codebase that assume that code is functioning, and the cost for breaking things in an unknown manner is so great compared to leaving a load-bearing hack alone and working around it. Engineers are typically expected to be able to read and decipher code on their own. If they get stuck or don't understand something, they are expected to ask for help. Tribal knowledge built up over time within the workforce is incredibly important to keeping things running. Without that passing of knowledge from senior to junior, you end up with the population of Idiocracy where they use tools and devices but have no idea how they work.

This is also why it's nigh impossible to take an existing game project and hand it over to completely different team and expect them to be able to figure it out. When you've got dependencies and systems without documentation and pitfalls everywhere, you could have engineers spend years trying (unsuccessfully) to figure out how it all works together. This actually happened at a former employer - they got the rights to an entire codebase and asset depot from a shut-down licensed MMOG that the higher-ups wanted to try to resurrect and reskin, but a couple of very senior engineers spent over a year unsuccessfully trying to get the entire workflow working and the entire attempt was eventually scrapped.

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[scarfacemarston]

All Journal Entries, Newspapers, Letters, Loading Screens Finished!

Disclaimer: Can’t be too careful. I do not, nor have I ever claimed to own any of the journal entries, pictures or audio files that I post. These are the property of Rockstar Games and I am able to use these due to the Fair Use Copyright Clause. Ok, This project took me over a year. I worked extremely hard on it so please “like” and reblog to share all the work I did. Here are the sort of things you can find! Use the newspapers, loading screens, journal entries or letters tags.

All Dutch, Hosea and Arthur Newspaper Clippings. Also uses both newspapers and journal entries tag.  Ridiculous animal drawing comparisons between Arthur and John. Journal entries and drawing comparisons like the Hobbit Drawings. Newspapers about the gang. Differences in entries like meeting the Strange Man or the bear trap. Post Cards/ Posters like of Black Belle. All Epilogue story journal entries from John. Comparison between quests like Hamish’s quest line. Another example: Meeting Mr. Black and Mr. White. Entire collection of loading screens like this example. Use the loading screens tag.

Letters like: Pearson’s letter Tilly’s letter Abigail’s letter Sadie’s Letter Mary’s Letter and more Extras like: Dutch’s Speech Charlotte’s letter. Bonnie’s letter Bounty Hunter newspapers Random other documents! Bonus Arthur Journal Entries and Transcribed. And more!

[centrally-unplanned]

Not gonna lie, this old notes transfer thing has been pretty depressing. Not so much in a personal way - oh for sure I have a ton of orphaned projects, but I legit had many "you should scan this document" or "you should write this essay" notes and I did do that, I totally did those. I didn't do half bad honestly, I'm a little surprised.

But my goal today was transferring over my saved anime research links, and that is a graveyard of blogs. Some of the blogs, sure, were dead when I linked them. The First Anime Blogging Boom of the late 2000's, all of those peter out by ~2012 or so. Great stuff in there if you can still find them, even if it is sad to see so many decaying on the Wayback Machine vine. However, there were a bunch of new blogs in there too; there was a renaissance in the late 2010's of people applying more academic, source-informed eyes to the anime rumour mill. Animetudes, 327 Robots, ARG, and others, all did good stuff, and all postless for years. And as people, some of them are still around! Animetudes is totally off writing interviews with animators in French for FullFrontalMoe or w/e. Good work, for sure, but that isn't the same thing. I am mutuals with 327 Robots/Thaliarchus on twitter, we talk sometimes! But the anime blogging spirt just isn't the zeitgeist anymore. Even the Youtube space is a little shallow these days, but that is still kicking at least.

I might just be out of touch, like maybe a whole new crop of writers is in the space now. And idk, maybe because I am going through my own introspection on what kind of projects are valuable to do this seems to hit closer to home. Certainly the end of a blog - an unpaid passion project - is inevitable.

There is this thing with writers/artists where you see them as their work. The output is so involved, so bespoke, it seems like it must be a gigantic, load-bearing part of their identities. And it is, but only for those moments of artistic creation - you aren't seeing them, you are seeing them on that day. The day after the ghost has been exorcised; they are now someone else. When the whole project fades away it throws that reality into sharp relief - the person you knew was only ever a sliver, one stuck in the past.

[noxioustoxins]

Food for Thought - JayTim - Batman

Jason just finished making pasta, a meal full of carbs and protein, with only enough sauce to make all the ingredients stick together, just the way Tim liked it. He wouldn’t eat it otherwise. He added some extra sauce to his bowl and left the kitchen.

“Any progress?” Jason asked, sitting next to Tim on the couch, mouth full of pasta and fork dripping with his properly sauced food.

Tim’s eyes flickered over, before almost immediately returning to the computer

Hook.

“The budget is almost illegible. It’s definitely on purpose but I don’t have proof of which shareholder is responsible for it.”

Tim has been chasing a shareholder through botched paperwork for a few weeks. It was a string of issues that they were not used to. Most situations they came up against could be dealt with through well-placed violence, but this was a game of cat and mouse. Which if it were an actual game, Tim might have enjoyed. But as it stands, he has a shareholder stealing money from the company and botching projects for insurance scams. The difficulty Tim was running into, the reason the investigation has been going on so long, has been because corporate scum bags fight in paper work and contracts. So, Tim has had to dig his way through red tape, new and old contracts, current budget meeting and previous budget meetings, all to match up numbers that claim to have been lost in the shuffle.

There have been a few of his ‘board of old men’, Tim’s words, that he had cleared. Each cleared shareholder lightened the load, but sniffing out one specific pompous asshole at Wayne Enterprises was taking its time; and a toll on Tim. He hasn’t been able to take time to patrol as Red Robin, and his team have had to manage a few cases without him at the helm because of the near quadrupled amount of paperwork he’s had his nose in lately. It was making him antsy, his mind had been busy, but Jason could feel Tim’s body aching to move. The way he shifted constantly lately, or got up just to walk around, the lessened patrols were definitely getting to him. When he had been able to go out, he wasn’t even working on investigations, and had taken to the role of simply beating assholes senseless.

But Tim wouldn’t let anyone help. His pride wouldn’t let him.

“So, no progress?” Jason said through another mouth full of sloppy, wet pasta.

“Not in this specific file yet,” Tim sighed, “but I was able to eliminate one more suspect today.”

Tim began chewing on his thumb nail, eyes still glued to his computer screen.

“Well,” Jason grunted as he stood up, “you have like, three extra jobs at WE now, so no one can blame you for it taking time.”

“I blame me,” Tim grumbled, “I have to wait for every new edition of every new contract and every new budget, and then having studied those, I have to wait for the board meeting, which I then spend most of that time trying to catch someone slipping, but these guys lie, cheat, and steal through their whole lives. It just feels like the progress is so slow its non-existent.” Tim pulled the laptop into his lap, slouched against the couch and scrolled through another page of gibberish on his computer that seemed to make sense to him.

“Of course it does. You’re climbing a wall of old man greed with bricks made out of million-dollar budgets and legal jargon.” Jason spoke up louder, so his voice could be heard from the kitchen.

He made his way back to the living room, taking a bite of pasta with not enough sauce, before sitting back down and staring intensely at the computer. Tim looked over at him as he entered.

Line.

“Wait.” Jason said, grabbing the computer off Tim’s lap, and putting the pasta where the laptop had been.

“What?” Tim said, leaning in. Jason held up his hand to pause Tim, and scanned the document on the computer.

“Nothing.” Jason said, looking over at Tim, then at the bowl, and back at Tim with a smile.

It was boring, and Jason had to reread every line twice for any of them to make sense. Beside him, Tim took a bite of too dry pasta.

Sinker.

Tim looked down at the bowl of pasta, made with just enough sauce for everything to stick together and extra parmesan cheese, just the way he liked it.

Tim’s glare meant nothing, as it was followed by an eye roll and a small smile. Jason closed the laptop, and Tim moved closer, another forkful of pasta in his mouth, once again reminded that, yes, he did need to eat.

[techav]

On Catastrophic Failures

After working through a silly design mistake and then having to reverse engineer my own project to make up for my own bad habits, my 68030 homebrew computer was running great. Better than ever, in fact — I finally had it running stable at 50MHz. It was absolutely flying.

The only thing keeping the machine from running faster was my 8-port serial card, which really needed another wait state to surpass the 50MHz mark. Luckily, I had designed the board with this need in mind and had included a jumper to select between 0 to 3 wait states. Unfortunately I had missed a single exclamation point in the logic equations for that wait state generator and so the signals were inverted. Not to worry — it's reprogrammable. I just need to add the missing mark, recompile, and re-burn the chip.

And that's when everything went wrong.

All I did was swap out the logic chip for the serial card, why won't the computer boot anymore? I haven't even changed the jumper setting yet. Swapping that chip shouldn't have affected anything else.

... It's not booting even with the serial card disconnected.

Out comes the oscilloscope. Reset is good, but nothing else is moving. All the bus signals are holding steady instead of doing their jobs.

Lower the clock speed; still nothing. Double-, triple-check power supply and bus connections; still nothing. Check the clock pin on the CPU ... nothing.

There's no clock signal on the CPU, so it can't do anything.

A quirk of this design, coming from my limited knowledge when I first started building it, is that the bus control CPLD drives the CPU clock, not the oscillator directly (the original intent was to divide the bus clock for the CPU — something that was more common in the 8-bit era). If there is no CPU clock something must be wrong with the CPLD.

That CPLD seems awfully warm.

I pulled the CPLD and dropped it in my programmer. ATMISP reported that the chip was not blank. That meant it was at least responding to some JTAG queries. I tried erasing the chip and it reported success. I tried reflashing my bus controller configuration. It failed verification every time. Nothing left to do but pull it and try another chip.

That's when I noticed not only was it getting quite hot, but it was drawing enough current that the LED on my programming adapter wasn't even lit. Something in that chip had shorted and was causing excessive current draw. Luckily I have some spares. New chip burns without any problems. Drop in into the main board and success — we have clock and bus signals!

But it's still not booting.

Out comes the oscilloscope again. Address strobes are working as expected. Cycle termination is happening as expected. ROM read & enable strobes are working as expected. RAM and the on-board serial port are never getting selected.

Time for the logic analyzer. After working through bus signals 16 at a time, I finally got to the point where I was watching enough of the address bus to see what it was loading.

The CPU was stuck in an odd loop. It would load the initial stack pointer & reset vector as normal, then start fetching & executing instructions. But before it had even finished fetching the second instruction, it would go back to loading the reset vector, then start again with fetching & executing instructions. Then it would go back to the beginning with loading the initial stack pointer & reset vector, and just continue on in this fashion endlessly.

There is nothing I'm aware of in the documentation that describes this behavior. It is possible to halt the CPU on startup by trying to use a misaligned stack pointer or reset vector, but it's not indicating a halt.

Thoroughly stumped, I turned to Discord for help. One user, [arminius97] had encountered something similar with the 68020 that ultimately required replacing the CPU. Another user well-versed in the 68030, [transistorfet], helped me walk through possibilities, and ultimately we came to the conclusion that something is very wrong with this CPU.

So something burned up my CPLD and my CPU.

I have one other 68030 CPU — a full-featured ceramic-package chip rated for 25MHz (it was my plastic-package 40MHz 68EC030 that failed). Time to swap chips around and see what happens.

A memory error.

It was running code! But it was also consistently reporting a memory error on startup at address 0x00000084. Always the same location, always the same bad byte. So I swapped around SRAM chips. The error followed. I have a bad memory chip.

So that's a CPLD, a CPU, and an SRAM chip that all failed at the same time.

This is quite a setback, especially because it had been running better than ever before. I don't even have any spare 4mbit SRAM chips I can test with. Repairs will be expensive.

Perhaps this is a good time to spring for some 15ns or faster SRAM and run with no wait states for main memory. Or perhaps I could finally finish building & testing the 72-pin SIMM board I assembled for this machine years ago.

I plan on exhibiting this build running the multi-user BASIC setup this June at VCFSW, so I do have a bit of a ticking clock to get it up and running again. I'm sure I'll figure something out.