#servers utterly crash

[norsesuggestions]

Gotta love the 1970s printing press factories workers unions reactions to punch clocks (=stämpelklocka):

This tidbit about the punch clock is from a blogpost about some of printers unions of the worlds reactions when the introduction of computer technology put them all under the fear to lose their jobs.

Quoted below is a text about new ways introduced in the printing presses to make the workers work faster, and via that, have an excuse to fire them for being "too slow":

"MTM is a method of breaking down work processes into standardized sub-moments in order to be able to streamline and rationalize work efforts and personnel as much as possible.

The factory workers were rightly afraid that this would lead to every second if their work day being controlled. 

The printing press workers response to mtm was, among other things, to pour lead into the employers punch clock (stämpelklocka)."

Lol my grandpa was a printing press factory worker during the 1970s. I wonder if he poured led into the punch clock (stämpelklocka) at some point haha 😂

(Grandpa was very involved in that factories workers union, so it is not impossible)

Source of qoute, quickly translated to english by me:

Link

[fear-is-truth]

# BEING BRUCE WAYNE’S ❝SUGAR BABY❞ AND FALLING IN LOVE WITH HIM — HCs

warnings — slowburn. brief mentions of sex synopsis — being a broke college student that caught the attention of none other than bruce wayne a/n — this is the fluffy slowburn sfw version… the 18+ one is still in the works

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

it started when you were a broke college student in your early twenties, juggling classes, part-time jobs, and an unrelenting mountain of bills. bruce wayne, freshly thirty, was already a household name—gotham’s elusive billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist.

you first crossed paths at a charity gala, where you were working as a server, weaving through the crowd with a tray of champagne flutes. you’d only seen bruce wayne in tabloids before, so when you caught him leaning against a marble pillar, watching you, you simply froze.

“you seem a little… distracted,” his eyes flicked to the tray you balanced expertly. “nervous, or just tired of all this nonsense?” you gave him a polite, slightly weary smile. “neither. just trying to get through the night without spilling on anyone important. still got a paper to finish.”

his lips twitched in amusement, but he didn’t press further. at the end of the night, though, you found an obscene tip tucked beneath his empty glass—crisp hundred bills folded neatly, more money than you’d made all week.

weeks later, he appeared again—this time at a hole-in-the-wall café near campus where you worked part-time. it wasn’t his scene; he stuck out like a sore thumb in his tailored black coat, looking utterly out of place among the students.

he didn’t say much that first visit, just ordered black coffee and left another ridiculous tip. but he came back. again and again. sometimes he’d stay long enough for a brief conversation, other times he’d sit quietly in a corner, newspaper in hand. it wasn’t just the tips that stuck to you—it was the way he listened. bruce never made you feel small or dismissed your struggles, like so many others did.

when he first offered to help you financially, he did it with tact that left you room to preserve your pride. “you’re working too hard,” he said one evening. “let me take some of the weight off—just until things settle. consider it an investment in your future.” there was a sincerity in his voice that made it sound like a practical solution rather than a handout.

accepting his help wasn’t easy. you’d been so accustomed to clawing your way through life that the idea of someone else shouldering your burden felt unnatural. after days of hesitation, you finally agreed—but only on the condition that you’d pay him back one day. bruce had only nodded, though there was the faintest hint of a smirk, like he knew you never would.

he never made you feel indebted, though. if anything, he treated it like helping you was a privilege.

when your ancient car finally gave up, bruce didn’t even wait for you to ask for help. within the week, a sleek, brand-new model was delivered to your apartment, the keys tucked into an envelope with a simple note: you need something reliable. you tried to thank him, but he just waved it off. “just focus on getting where you need to go.”

your decrepit laptop, with its constant crashing and refusal to load anything on time, was next. one day, you came home to find a pristine, state-of-the-art model sitting on your desk, already set up and ready to use. you didn’t even have to ask.

bruce never demanded anything in return. the closest he came to asking for favours were the occasional lunches or dinners where he’d pick your brain about your studies, your ambitions, your dreams. he always seemed genuinely interested, never letting the conversation veer into anything too personal unless you led it there.

you realized over time that it wasn’t just the money, the gifts, or even the way he treated you like an equal—it was the steady presence he provided. bruce wasn’t there to fix your life or control it; he just wanted to make it a little easier. and somehow, that made all the difference.

when you stayed up late working on papers, bruce would sometimes settle on the couch nearby, a novel in his hands. he never intruded, but his quiet presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone. on particularly rough nights, he’d bring you a cup of tea without saying a word, setting it gently beside you before returning to his book.

on your birthday, he surprised you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers—something you’d mentioned in passing months ago—and a beautifully wrapped box containing a classic hermès birkin. the card attached to it read simply, “something to carry all those books in.”

his gifts were always thoughtful, never ostentatious in a way that would make you feel uneasy. designer coats, shoes, and bags—each impeccably tailored to your taste, yet discreet. the labels were always tucked away, hidden in folds and linings. they were things you could wear without being worried you’d get mugged. nothing about them screamed, “i have a sugar daddy.”

bruce never tried to “buy” your affection. you didn’t owe him anything—not in the transactional way most would expect. he just wanted to see you comfortable, to help you in ways that went beyond financial support. and, over time, you realized you cared for him too—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

he had an uncanny ability to remember the smallest details about you. the way you took your coffee. the name of the professor whose lectures you dreaded. how the sound of rain on a window always calmed you. those little moments of attentiveness.

at first, bruce kept you at arm’s length emotionally, cautious about pulling you deeper into his complicated world. but as the months went by, as your late-night talks stretched into early mornings, it became clear that bruce didn’t see this as a favour or an obligation. he cared for you in a way that went far beyond surface-level kindness.

when you went through a bad breakup, he didn’t try to fix it or console you with empty platitudes. instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest.

it wasn’t long before the line between benefactor and friend blurred entirely. he was no longer just footing your bills or buying you thoughtful gifts—bruce got greedy. he didn’t just want to take care of you financially; he wanted all of you.

one night, you were venting about your professors, frustration pouring out in a messy jumble of words. bruce listened intently, brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, giving you his undivided attention.

“you’re too nice to me,” you blurted, the words slipping out like a spew of vomit. before doubt could creep in, you leaned forward and kissed him. it was a kiss that changed everything—as you half expected him to gently push you away, his hand came up to cradle your face, deepening it.

the kiss led to one thing, then another, and before you knew it, you were tangled together in his sheets, lost in his kisses, his touch, his quiet attention to your every reaction. bruce wasn’t just passionate; he was thorough in a way that unraveled you completely—it was hands down the best sex you’d ever had.

when you woke up the next morning, still tangled in his arms, a wave of uncertainty hit you. maybe it was nerves or overthinking, but you couldn’t stop wondering if you’d crossed a line you shouldn’t have. sensing your unease, bruce kissed your shoulder, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “i hope you know this changes nothing… we’re fine.”

and just like that, you became his official “sugar baby.” not that the dynamic between you two changed drastically—it simply gave bruce an excuse to really spoil you.

the secrecy was part of the thrill, but also a necessity. bruce wasn’t ready to let the world know, and truthfully, you weren’t either. the thought of being reduced to a tabloid headline or a shallow label like “sugar baby” or “sugar daddy” felt like a betrayal of the genuine connection you’d built.

he started sending you to your favourite spa on weekends, claiming you deserved a break from all the stress. when you protested that it was too much, he just shrugged. “self-care is important,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

your closet, which had been a collection of fast fashion and thrifted pieces, was slowly replaced with the row, max mara, burberry, and dior.

your jewelry collection grew as well. delicate van cleef & arpels bracelets, tiffany & co. pendants, and diamond-stud earrings from cartier found their way into your life. he gifted you a dainty rolex, understated yet stunning, with a cheeky note: “don’t be late to class.”

despite all of this, bruce was careful to ensure it never looked like you were “living large.” you stayed in your same modest apartment, though it was clear his influence was woven into the details: a state-of-the-art security system, upgrades to your furniture and appliances that made life a little easier.

dinners became a regular occurrence, whether it was a reservation at gotham’s most exclusive restaurant or an extravagant meal in his penthouse.

when you graduated, bruce was there, blending into the crowd in a simple black coat, inconspicuous among the sea of families and friends. you didn’t spot him at first—he wasn’t the type to draw attention when he didn’t want to—but when your eyes finally landed on his, he gave you the smallest of nods. after the ceremony, he approached you quietly, slipping a small velvet box into your hand. you opened it to reveal a key.

“what’s this for?” you asked, already overwhelmed, fingers trembling slightly. “your new apartment,” he replied simply. then, after a pause, “unless… you’d rather move in with me.”

from then on, everything changed. bruce wasn’t just your benefactor; he was your best friend, your confidant, and eventually, your lover.

[ozzgin]

Saw a human streamer in a world of monsters post. Like it so much🔥🔥🔥🔥

But the real question is will monster try to cosplay them? And i clearly see how streamer platform rules are changed especially for human streamer🤣🤣🤣🤣

The developers are probably utterly confused at first, wondering why the hell their servers abruptly crashed due to bandwidth usage. The numbers on the screen are ridiculous. After some digging, they finally find the cause: one human.

They go over some of the messages in utter horror. There’s too much obscenity happening at once. They’re even receiving complaint tickets from monster users who can’t access Reader’s livestream.

Next day a new set of rules comes out. Naturally, they leave the poor human out of it, but everyone knows it was all caused by raw thirst. The ending signature of the new agreement reads in small text: shame on you all.

If Reader were to take the lewd content route…

Warning: NSFW content below!

Some of y’all have a way of humbling me. I-…sigh. You got me here, anon. I bow before your extensive knowledge.

Let me just meekly add my suggestion of having guest monsters featured on the livestreams as well. Forget the toys, high-paying patrons get to ram into Reader on camera. 👉🏻👌🏻

[stardustedseas]

i think sebastian deserves an s/o who is absolutely incompetent and has horrid luck with computers. they just look at one and it somehow has 20 new viruses and stops turning on lmao

i think it would be funny how he tries to share his work with you but everytime you sit on his lap to listen to him talk, the program crashes and he loses some of his progress. the first couple times he can write off as coincidence but after the third he thinks maybe it's best if you stay 5 feet away from the puter at all times lmao

or even just youre really bad with them, maybe you two properly meet because you somehow locked yourself out of your computer and you commissioned him to try to figure it out. he is absolutely baffled at how utterly Fucked the device is, riddled with malware and somehow missing half the essential stuff to run. you say you just use it to research farm stuff and look for recipes but he isnt sure if he believes you with how bad this shit is lmfao atp he could make a living just by how often you have to come to him for help. sometimes he wonders if you really quit your old job or if they fired you for crashing the entire company server in 5 hours flat

[cynic-spirit]

The Red Lipstick

The dim lighting and plush décor of Bucky’s club exuded an air of sophistication and exclusivity. Yn sat at a small table near the bar, casually touching up her red lipstick. Her glasses, hung elegantly on the waistband of her skirt, gave her a bookish allure that contrasted with her sultry lips, making her irresistibly captivating.

From a distance, Bucky watched her intently, utterly captivated by the simple act. Every time Yn touched up her lipstick, it was a process he enjoyed immensely and made sure never to miss. The way her fingers delicately held the lipstick, the precise movements of her hand, and the way her lips transformed into an even more enticing shade of red always mesmerized him.

Nearby, a waiter named Jake balanced a tray laden with beers, his eyes wandering towards Yn. Her effortless beauty caught his attention, and for a moment, he forgot about the tray in his hand. At the same time, another waiter, Tim, approached from the opposite direction, carrying a tray of fries. He too was mesmerized by Yn’s presence.

Their distracted states led to an inevitable collision. Jake and Tim crashed into each other, sending beers and fries flying through the air. The trays clattered to the floor, and Jake stumbled backward, bumping into a tray with wheels that was laden with more drinks. The tray careened forward, rolling uncontrollably across the floor.

The runaway tray slammed into Hal, the bartender, who was expertly mixing cocktails. Hal lost his balance, and the shaker flew from his hands, knocking over a bottle of expensive whiskey. The bottle spun off the counter and smashed into the intricate display of champagne glasses behind the bar. The glasses cascaded down like a waterfall, shattering into a thousand glittering pieces upon impact with the floor.

As if that weren't enough, the commotion startled a nearby group of patrons. One of them, in a startled attempt to avoid the flying shards of glass, knocked over a barstool, which clattered loudly against the floor. The barstool hit another table, causing a domino effect that toppled over several more drinks and glasses. Patrons jumped out of their seats, spilling their own drinks in the process. A couple of them tripped over each other in the chaos, adding to the mayhem.

Meanwhile, a server carrying a towering cake for a birthday celebration was so distracted by the noise that she misstepped, sending the cake crashing to the floor. The vibrant frosting splattered across the polished wooden floors, adding a colorful, sticky mess to the already chaotic scene.

Through all this, Yn remained oblivious to the chaos she had unintentionally caused. She turned slightly, surprised by the sudden noise but unaware of the chain reaction her presence had sparked.

From across the room, Bucky watched the spectacle unfold. His initial concern for the disruption quickly gave way to amusement. Leaning against the wall with a smirk, he shook his head slightly. "That's almost 30 grand worth of ruin that happened in 20 seconds," he thought to himself, his gaze lingering on Yn with a mix of admiration and affection.

The staff scrambled to clean up the mess, Jake and Tim apologizing profusely as they picked up shards of glass and wiped up spilled drinks. Hal, trying to salvage what remained of his station, shot a bemused glance at Bucky, who simply shrugged in response. The birthday server, now holding a ruined cake, sighed deeply and started cleaning up the frosting with the help of another waiter.

Finally, the chaos subsided, and the club returned to its usual rhythm. Bucky made his way over to Yn, who was still blissfully unaware of the havoc she had caused. He leaned in close, his eyes twinkling with humor.

"Having fun over here?" he asked, a playful tone in his voice.

Yn looked up, puzzled. "I was just touching up my lipstick. What happened?"

Bucky chuckled. "Let's just say your red lips caused quite a stir."

Yn raised an eyebrow, but Bucky didn't elaborate. Instead, he took her hand and led her to a quieter corner of the club, leaving the staff to deal with the aftermath of her unintended allure. As they walked away, Bucky couldn't help but feel even more enchanted by Yn, her beauty and obliviousness making her all the more endearing to him.

As they settled into a secluded spot, Bucky glanced at Yn with a teasing smile. "You're quite the troublemaker, you know that?"

Yn, still confused, asked, "What do you mean?"

Bucky laughed softly, his admiration for her growing even more. "Nothing, doll. Just keep being you."

[voidcat]

Hmmm but what if streamer!reader ends up w someone who begins to bother and hit on them over time, taking advantage of the branch of friendship reader had offered and instead being a whole weird creep— maybe someone in the past now, maybe still ongoing just yet.

Michael kaiser x streamer!reader. Possessive behavior if you squint ig this is Kaiser after all

Until after one of those off camera streamers where they’re once more crashed by Kaiser, reader receives a new message and to shoo the weirdo off, reader says that they’re in a relationship.

“Who? The guy whose voice could be heard in mumbles from a distance last night?”

You cannot help but roll your eyes, holding back a sigh. Of course the bastard watches your streams, what were you expecting? But maybe… just maybe this can work. Worst case scenario that they recognise his voice, they’re a football fan so Kaiser’s very presence might emit respect and fear.

So you swallow, bite your tongue and open your mouth. “Yeah. In fact it’s been going on for quite a while. Getting serious.”

You say, emphasising on the last word, hoping they’ll get the message.

And it works! Somehow, partially. The messages have come to an end, there are still few mutual servers and friends you both share but not even once have they entered a voice chat when you were present.

You don’t realise how this will fail utterly in a way you could not have prepared for.

Saying Michael Kaiser, the same guy you call the bane of your existence, who gets cranky like a needy, spoiled dog when you’re taking with your friends a little intimately - and maybe a little flirty; is your partner.

Romantically involved and implied to be even more. And cherry on top, when you’ve said that it’s been getting serious for a while.

By the time you come to realise your mistake, it’s already far too late. You’re not sure on the ���how’ or ‘when’ but one thing for certain, you should never underestimate Michael Kaiser— especially when it concerns the both of you, together.

[ask-post-ii17au-box]

Konami here, you...need rest, seriously, get some sleep or I'm getting in your hardware and putting you to sleep :3

Alright back to the blog after a…..”involuntary extended break” (Slept for about 18 days straight, I feel more…..mentally stable).

Meeple is semi stable(ish) thanks to Sis, she somehow managed to buy the company some time from the pr nightmare that got set off by the server crash by spreading the bullshit headline “Mandroid unveils secret to eternal life: Recovery centers!” which conjured up a pr scandal big enough to get eyes off us for hopefully a week or two.

The workers (Who we’ve finally gotten around to giving a massive raise by cutting the utterly ridiculous amount I discovered he was giving himself when he was in charge of this hellish company) managed to get our total server activity up to 80% while I was out.

The key things that are still down are MOS versions 9-17, Mewallet, every single Mepod, Mepad 2 models and whatever’s causing the issue that’s making every Meeple device unable to receive calls.

[scramblecat]

okay scramble’s gonna get a lil unhinged with this one. But I already wrote it out for a server and all I gotta do is copy and paste SO:

About the Narrator and his Fears

[Putting it under a cut because it is. REALLY long as in like 700+ words long]

The Narrator is usually really good at keeping his composure when it comes to negative emotions, I feel like. He expresses happiness and excitement often enough, but the only times he cries (as in, voice audibly breaking) are the Zending and the Real Person ending.

So he’s shown to be distraught before. But panic? Full-on panic? There’s also only two instances where this happens, and that’s in the Skip Button Ending, and interestingly, the second time you go to the expo.

Now, the skip button ending is completely understandable. He’s being faced with the idea of being completely and utterly isolated for the foreseeable future, over and over and over again, getting longer and longer each time. Anyone would be afraid if they were in that position. At its surface, it’s a completely rational fear from the get-go.

But the expo? It’s… odd. He goes into the achievement room prepared to pop off with his whole ‘it doesn’t work YET’ thing, and then it does.

In the expo, it’s different. It’s not a high stakes situation, not by any means. But when the achievement machine works against all of the Narrator’s expectations, he panics. But not just in like an ‘ah uhm this is definitely what I meant to happen aha!’ way.

It takes him a moment to realize, but he verbalizes his train of thought, so we know exactly when he does.

The machine didn’t work before —> the Narrator didn’t do anything to it to fix it (implying that he didn’t have any sort of solution for it yet) —> it’s fixed anyways and he doesn’t know how —> someone else might have that knowledge —> there’s someone else here.

And that is the moment where he starts to panic. He sounds almost faint when he talks next, and he has to verbally tell himself to keep his composure— something we’ve never, ever heard him do before.

His breathing gets audibly strangled as he tries to finish his whole pitch, telling Stanley that everything is working as intended to cover up the anxiety he’s feeling. But he stumbles through it, and he finishes it with telling himself to breathe, to regulate the panic.

He straight up has like. A whole anxiety attack in front of us. It’s so UNLIKE him to be that afraid, and that REALLY makes it a moment that stands out.

There IS something that links the Skip Button and the Achievement Machine together— and that is CONTROL. Or, rather, lack thereof.

In the Skip Button Ending, yes, he’s scared of being alone. He makes many discoveries about his thought processes and how he works in that solitude, and realizes that talking isn’t his main purpose— it’s telling a story. Telling a story TO someone. He doesn’t feel like he has a purpose otherwise. And that’s the big root of the isolation part.

But otherwise? He spends the first few skips desperately looking for a way out. He panics when he can’t touch the room around him, when he realizes he’s trapped, and that he can’t do anything about it. He’s lost his control.

And it’s the same thing with the achievement machine. He THINKS he has complete control over the Parable and its contents. He really does. And then, something— or someone— fixes the machine for him. And all at once, his perception of what he can control comes absolutely crashing down on him. In that moment, he’s having a LOT of huge realizations:

He doesn’t have the control he thinks he does

He doesn’t know how much control he actually HAS, and it could be NONE

He and Stanley are not alone in the Parable, and are being watched

Whatever being is watching them has more power than he does, and could very well strip all of his control away from him

These realizations— that last one especially— are fucking terrifying to him!

The Narrator is obsessive about maintaining control over the events that transpire in HIS PARABLE, and the only times he shows negative emotions are when he cannot control a situation. It most often presents itself in annoyance at the very least, or a complete breakdown at its worst. And it’s all because he needs that control. He’s fearful of the idea that he can’t control a situation, because it makes him feel helpless and weak. He’s USED to having control, and when it’s taken away from him, he has no idea what to do.

He’s desperately trying to keep up this facade of ‘this is all fine and working as intended’ in front of Stanley after Stanley gets the achievement, even though it’s clear that he’s barely holding it together. His entire perception of his own control has collapsed in on itself, and has given in to one of his worst fears. And he’s really, really shaken up by it.

The Narrator’s greatest fear has been shown to be a lack of control. It’s quickly followed by the fear of isolation, obviously, but the fear of helplessness/weakness is present all through the games.

And THAT, folks, is why the Narrator freaks out in one (1) ending that nobody ever talks about!

[merge-conflict]

this is not a suicide letter

a/n: prompted from the writer's of night city server* for the song razor's edge by william control

Johnny wakes with no memory and an ache in his head serious enough to warrant a place on the scale: somewhere between his fourth car crash and that ’09 bar fight in Atlanta. He wants someone to put him out of his misery, but he’s not entirely opposed to the idea of living, if he can find something to dull it and lie back down to sleep.

It’s too much effort to open his eyes so after a few tries he gives it up, breathing even and trying not to think about the disgusting furry sensation inside his mouth. Any moment someone will come and bother him, but until then he will lie here motionless, as close to insensate as possible for as long as possible.

The plan works flawlessly, until his phone goes off, the shrill alarm inspiring him into a focused burst of rage– he lunges towards the noise and everything falls apart.

It’s not his phone. It’s not his apartment. It’s not his head.

The poor sucker he’s stuck in comes to the same realization, and the phone hits the far wall with a resentful thunk, plunging the room into silence. She slumps over and a half second later Johnny is awash in a wave of miserable nausea, followed by another sharp slicing pain to the head that makes him wish he really was dead. Between being caught between a body that won’t respond to his commands and ball-shriveling, mind-obliterating pain, he might as well be in hell.

“Fuck,” his host spits, when the worst of the attack is over. There’s blood on her lips– he tastes it only once it’s already down her throat. It’s old blood, part of the flaky patch that covers the right side of her face, which she’s probing with her fingers while carefully avoiding the pulsing source of agony at her temple. “Fuck, you son of a bitch.”

<Don't get so pissy> he says, disturbed by the sound of his own replicated voice. It sounds the way he sounds in records and on video. He tries to think of her name, just out of reach. He reaches. <Listen, Valentine– >

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, her rage hitting him like the background heat from an explosion. “Don’t ever call me that, you motherfucker.”

<Alright, alright.> He tries to cross his arms, but instead sees himself flicker into view, making the exact gesture. The uncanny experience of looking directly at himself is rivaled only by the way the projection mirrors his consternation. <Just saying, this whole thing isn't easy for me either.>

A guttural laugh escapes from her throat. “Excuse me if I’m not feeling very sympathetic.”

All he can feel besides the pain in her head is the brittle, hollow, sharpness in her chest, like a knife caught between her ribs. She’s breathing shallow and labored, hunched like an animal, and it’s hard to sort her misery from his. He wants to cry, or she wants to cry, and is crying but trying not to.

<Stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself,> he says. He watches himself start to pace, frustration growing at the inability to actually move. <Least you've got a life to lose.>

This time she throws her head back and laughs with abandon– brassy, bold, and utterly fucking deranged. “You want it?” she crows, her voice far too loud for the space, never mind her soft head. In the moment all he can feel is her bleak triumph. “You can fucking have it.”

She pays the price for the force her bitterness– they both do, clutching the porcelain throne while her body tries in vain to rid itself of emptiness and bile. It’s an eternity before she has the strength to stagger to the sink and rinse out her mouth and wash the tears from her eyes. In the absence of light she sees everything around her in shades of soft, calming blue. He knows with startling certainty that it’s the only way she can bear to face herself. She searches her eyes in the mirror, looking for him.

“You want it?” she pleads, in a ruined voice. A small, flickering smile tugs at the edges of her lips, warring with a frown. “You can have it.”

[gayrobot9000]

Computers are the opposite of a deus ex machina. Instead of god in the machine, there is a demon. Any seemingly solvable problem can be rendered utterly impossible, and only through an elaborate system of bargaining and sacrifice is any progress able to be made. (Oh, you want to share a file? Airdrop? Sorry, I'm on Android. Maybe you could email me it? Wait, that won't work. File size limit. Discord? Also no, file size again. Google Drive? Oh, the app crashes without explanation. Hmm. Wait, you could upload it to my server, but first I'll have to make an account for you. Let me SSH in real quick... ...oh, he died,)

[controlledchaosetc]

I work in IT part-time and am a CS major going into software engineering. I consider myself an incredibly patient person that's pretty slow to anger, and am down to sit down and figure out a problem for hours.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, makes me angrier than tech issues.

If you don't have a love-hate relationship with computers in that position, idk how you cope. There's something about literally banging your head again your keyboard trying to figure out what the fuck is going wrong that humbles a woman, and nothing as utterly infuriating as this box of wires and binary sits unmoving, uncaring in front of you, but yet still taunting you.

The worst is when it was your fault. You installed something wrong, the logic of your code was off, or maybe you simply mistyped. No matter. It laughs at you all the same. Laughing at you from the intangible network of code and microprocessors that comprises its being. Even though its body and brain have been charted out, true understanding takes decades, almost as a doctor to the human form. Even then, the human body stays relatively the same. Diagnosis is difficult for both, yes, and gaps of knowledge remaining for each, but the being of a computer will remain alien. Compact forms that are neat and tidy. Boxes the size of dogs and heavy as one too. Server farms with sprawling tentacles. I work with the wifi and ethernet for my job, and the data closets that hold the switches look less like machines, and more like a plant that has rooted and infested the entire building with its vines.

Each machine is different, and they don't stop multiplying and evolving, forever changing, faster than we are able to comprehend. The body and brain evolve at speeds unheard of, blueprints and documentation unable to keep up. Linguistics shift, forms morph, it ingrains itself so deeply into our lives and yet we still struggle to understand it and the problems they bring us.

I'm working on a project now. Refurbishing an old Android app so that it can be used once more. The old developer isn't with the company anymore, and he neglected to write any documentation. It seemed simple enough: just fix it up. It just took in forms, and allowed the user to fill out the info. Simple enough. The thing to remember is complexity to you and to a machine are two different things. Your interaction may be simple, but that's because the support structure you have is already there, your brain hardwired to learn. The computer requires more, something more akin to neurosurgery, if you will, to add the necessary abilities to its routine. And so much must be added.

Folders in folders. Files thousands of lines long. Errors and warnings popping up in the interpreter. Depreciated. Unsupported. Code hopeless out of date yet ingratiated so deeply as if a tumor. This was all written less than a decade ago. Evolution, as I said. Routines pointing to methods pointing to classes as the logic wove and intertwined, and I remain helpless to untangle it. I spend hours reading through, trying to understand, and researching how to bring this back to life, and for every file I open, the deeper the program runs and deeper the pit in my stomach drops.

The one problem with the neurosurgery comparison is there is an implication of precision. Measured, delicate cuts with the steadiest of hands. That's not what coding is. No, coding is more like a lobotomy. An unethical experiment. You can plan. You can try to plan meticulously, but breaking shit and flinging mud at the wall to see what sticks is and will remain a fundamental part of the process. You will poke and prod, delete and add, test and retest as the program screams exceptions and crashes, and you will do it all over again until it obeys. Trial and error.

So yes, I relate to Colin. Pulling wires out, cursing at the errors, and wishing that the system had better documentation comes with the territory. But for all your tinkering, your insults, your intrusions, your imprecise cuts that are more like stabs leaving large gaping wounds, what happens when a computer, with wires more akin to nerves, that can truly feel your experimentation suffers through that indignity? All I can say is you should be very, very afraid.

I'm fine, btw.

I'm loving all the IT people going "No, no, Colin's behavior is perfectly normal."

It's like the opposite of all the archivists yelling at Jon

[daisychainsandbowties]

avatrice & books

// turning this into a whole post bc it got LONG. ty anon who asked these questions

who prefers audio and/or digital books over physical?

out of necessity they have a LOT of digital books. Cam actually dumps her whole contraband collection in Bea’s inbox while she & Ava are still en-route to Switzerland, so that Bea’s new phone lights up on the seat beside her & it’s the first thing that relaunches her brain like a crashed excel document, because Ava’s drooling onto the leg of her pants with her body curled up across two seats. all the lights in the train are down low, & she gets an email from Cam (on the OCS extranet) with the subject line “don’t tell Mom :)))”.

headcanon is that Cam has been selling literary contraband in cat’s cradle for years (in true Camila style with a barter system where she gives people pages she printed off on the admin office’s old printer & they give her things like ‘interestingly-shaped bullet fragments’ and ‘bags of Haribo starmix with a preferential ratio of love hearts and cola bottles to bears & rings’)

so yeah, Cam has a little online archive hidden away on the OCS servers, & Bea spends the journey to Switzerland reading a digitally dog-eared file of miscellaneous philosophy papers, which Cam has been grabbing for her because it’s like Beatrice catnip. and it becomes a little habit for Cam to walk into Bea’s room at cat’s cradle to find her doing crunches with the lights off. Cam doing the sibling thing where she flicks the light switch on and off five times until Beatrice stops and just lies on the floor with arms akimbo, scowling:

‘leave me alone Camila.’

‘okay, broody bones, guess you don’t want this paper i found called ‘do holes exist?’

cue Bea coming down to breakfast the next morning STILL furious, squinting angrily at the straw in Mary’s smoothie until Mary asks if she needs to put it into protective custody.

she reads it again on the train because she wants to be angry over something stupid. she reads the essay that made Cam spend a week hiding in the apse and saying ‘i’m batman’ whenever Beatrice went inside - Nagel’s ‘what is it like to be a bat?’ and she reads a bit of Beckett because she really does find ‘Waiting for Godot’ funny, & then she reads her old favourites which she has printed and folded in her drawer in cat’s cradle

she LOVES Kepler’s astronomica nova because he has all these asides in it, and Bea chuckles aloud in the train carriage as she always does when she remembers reading first about Kepler writing “ah, what a foolish bird i have been!” & when her head hurts from reading the original Latin she switches to Carl Sagan’s cosmos, reading about Kepler again, feeling it in her chest:

“Kepler was a brilliant thinker and a lucid writer, but he was a disaster as a classroom teacher. He mumbled. He digressed. He was at times utterly incomprehensible… He was distracted by an incessant interior clamor of associations and speculations vying for his attention.”

beatrice & kepler &

“Geometry provided God with a model for the Creation… Geometry is God Himself.”

when Ava wakes up, Bea is reading the Lewis & Lewis holes article for the third time, & Ava jolts a bit because she looks real mad, and kind of devastated, but then Bea smiles at her & Ava says:

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, nothing.” a pause, “i just… holes are full of the substance they create an absence in.”

“i think i need a croissant before you explain that to me”

Bea prefers physical books. she likes the smell of them, and the feeling of holding the words in her hands, and how you can leave a bookmark inside of a book and feel suddenly and profoundly like you are alive, putting an ellipses straight into the world ‘…. to be continued’.

it’s why she likes Cam’s dumb print-offs even if Camila has long-since convinced the ink cartridge that it is not, in fact empty but it definitely is getting there. even though sometimes the words are shaved off and she has to infer the full shape of sentences - and if she does, well, it’s kind of like sudoku & it’s a bit like learning song lyrics off the radio where, very occasionally, the words you mishear are better than the real ones.

but she does appreciate the search functions on the digital books & papers & the fact that she can screen reader things when her eyes are tired but her brain is not, (& Cam is very good at making sure that the PDFs she sends are screen reader accessible)

she doesn’t like audiobooks because she wants to put the emphasis where her brain thinks it should go, and even with the speed turned up there’s just a difference between her reading speed and the narration. & yeah, the auditory processing sometimes is not cooperating, never mind that her ears ring sometimes from hearing too many gunshots. there’s a reason the OCS has a deal with a hearing specialist bc if you retire, you’re going to have damage to your eardrums. a ringing aftershock of violence.

they both love dog-earing books and leaving little notes in the margins of, underlining things with intention so that the pen breaks through the paper; with mass-market paperbacks there’s no reason not to, though it takes a while for it to happen.

Ava is at first very tender with every object they own. she bawls her eyes out when she drops a glass in the kitchen one night because her fingers are tired and sore from doing finger strikes all day. Bea finds her there sort of curled up on her haunches, and quietly sweeps up the glass from around her, gently leads her around it because she’s in bare feet.

later, on the sofa, Ava tells her through tears that she has never had stuff that she picked out herself, and the glasses with the little bumblebees on them were hers, and now there are three of them instead of four. & Bea is a bit overcome by how sacredly Ava holds everything, for all that she doesn’t believe in any god.

Ava i think really likes audiobooks because you can do other things while you listen to them! so like, i imagine in the Switzerland era Ava is doing a thing where she’s trying to figure out what stuff she likes doing. so she gets painting supplies & some sheets of A3 paper & she puts on audiobooks while she experiments with colours.

she listens to books at night because Beatrice goes to sleep kind of early & she’s always like ‘oh no, you can leave the light on’ but actually she needs the light off and Ava knows it so instead she lies in the dark with one earphone in listening, on the one hand, to Beatrice mumbling in her sleep and also to whatever book she has & sometimes she takes out the fold-up ruler that she found in a charity shop & folds it and unfolds it and folds it again just to keep her hands busy.

but she also likes physical books because (once Beatrice assures her that it’s okay to write in them & damage them because they’re things and they’re hers and they’re meant to be loved in the way that feels best) she likes writing silly little notes in the margins, or things she wants to look up even though her phone is right there because if she google searches she’ll spend an hour not reading her book.

it makes her feel present & good to leave marks on the books even if it’s ‘ava silva was here’ because she thought she would leave only the smallest impression on the world for so long but now she has her own dirty plates to clean up and she has to pick her clothes off the floor and they have a small stack of very carefully-chosen paperbacks with dog ears and yellow highlighter marks and blue pen in the margins.

what do you think their weird book opinions & peeves would be?

Beatrice will go on a ten-minute tirade about how long it takes for mass-market paperbacks to come out these days. she HATES the fact that all books seem to get released in 25 euro hardcovers, because she spent her teenage years getting books from the second-hand store when the students were allowed to visit the nearby village & she kept an ever-expanding stack of old yellowing paperbacks on top of her chest of drawers, and she adores the feeling of the wafer-thin pages, the smell of them, even gross stuff like spots of blood on the pages from where people accidentally pressed an open cut down over a sentence.

the too-white pages of many modern books, and their thick, almost laminate feeling drives her up the wall. she loves second-hand bookstores and the way the books are stacked all haphazardly, to the ceiling, and they are 1 or 2 euros so you can get a stupid stack of them & pay with a crumply note and take them home and feel full for days.

Ava gets impatient with fiction that doesn’t feel real to her. overly-constructed stuff & characters who could never be real people. she likes messy narratives and non-linearity and she wants to know about the characters more than anything, because people fascinate her.

she likes books with plenty of dialogue, but also really appreciates introspective narratives & beautiful language & writers who can make her really feel like she’s there, and communicate alien experiences.

what are genres and/or tropes they absolutely will not read and/or are very picky about? what are genres & tropes they love?

well, obviously Beatrice loves non-fiction. she reads textbooks, she reads academic papers, she reads very old foundational texts in science & biology & philosophy because Beatrice really really likes understanding things.

one of the first books Cam sends her, which gets dumped right into the “broody bones’ library <3” subsection of the server, which Bea has a login for and everything, is Biology of Spiders by Foelix Rainer, & another file that just has about 3000 images of different spiders pulled from an internet search, so that Beatrice can swipe through them at her leisure (she can name-drop a terrifying number of them just by looking at the pic)

she adores Carl Sagan’s Cosmos (& even gets Ava to watch the TV series, which is not hard because Ava gets fully 0 _ 0 when Bea goes on sleepy rants about space). & ofc she has A Brief History of Time, but she gravitates too towards modern books on astronomy, and likes especially The Disordered Cosmos by Chanda Prescod-Weinstein because it is doing a lot of things & it makes her cry a few times. she reads a lot of very old astronomy papers too. again drawn to that line from Monsignor Lemaître:

“the believer has perhaps the advantage of knowing that the enigma has a solution, that the underlying writing is, when all is said and done, the work of an intelligent being, therefore that the problem raised by nature has been raised in order to be solved.”

she likes that. the world as a puzzle god put in her hands, though before it felt more like He had put a shovel there & told her to dig a grave (but not who the grave might be for).

with Ava, reading under the awning of the bar on her break, she feels like the puzzle has come back again and it is intricate; that maybe something as simple as a body might unlock it.

on that note, Beatrice also loves loves loves science-fiction. she grew up reading second-hand stuff. very weird, but very thoughtful. Dune and  Solaris and Flowers for Algernon and The Dispossessed. when Cam sends her the more modern stuff she devours things like The Three-Body Problem by Liu Cixin and Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer and also the Murderbot Diaries.

many others, but as a genre she’s drawn to it because it is often very profoundly human. & she still remembers reading the Star Wars Jedi Apprentice books in her room at boarding school, & how fun they were, and how even in the strangest places with the premise that everything is so, so different, there is a humanity that reasserts itself.

it suits the gentle texture of the faith that Beatrice actually has, which is not the faith of hard church benches and prayers before bed and holding her hand too close overtop of a votive candle. her faith is very soft, and it is about marvelling at the world, worrying about it, being tender towards it.

sci-fi does that for her. it says much in the way of ‘even if everything were different, the best and worst parts of us would remain the same. there will never be a point in history where we do not have to deal with what we are.’

i think she also likes poetry, and just weird good books that make you feel things. i think at some point in those two months she reads Autobiography of Red, remembering herself on the train and staring staring staring at the line “sometimes a journey makes itself necessary.”  

looking back and thinking that sometimes a girl makes a journey necessary, thinking of being shipped off to boarding school because of a girl and now shipped off to Switzerland again but with a girl. thinking of necessity, and the small ways in which she has managed to alter the meaning of that word.

other lines that strike her

“This would be hard

for you if you were weak

but you’re not weak”

“Well Goodnight Then they said and drove him up/ Those hemorrhaging stairs…Don’t want to go want to stay Downstairs and read.”

she likes Anne Sexton, too

reading “Sylvia’s Death” & knowing that it’s about something else but also thinking about her sisters. about lilith, especially.

“Thief —

how did you crawl into,

crawl down alone

into the death I wanted so badly and for so long”

the only genre she’s not going to read ever probably is crime/ thrillers, because not only does she just constantly have a little voice in her head going

wrong, wrong, wrong.

no it doesn’t work like that.

wrong.

you just broke both your legs.

that is not how you fire a gun

some of it just sits too close to the bone for her & it’s bad enough that she has her own memories of real-world bad things happening without reading about it. possessed people ripping each other to pieces, bodies in the streets.

the OCS visited enough murder scenes on the trail of demons to make Beatrice capable of smelling, all over again, what happens to a room after a person has been dead in it for several hours.

so she just doesn’t want to read any crime or really most mystery novels (she’s too smart for them, sees things choreographed or else dislikes when things aren’t choreographed at all). she has attended too many autopsies to want to read about them either.

i think Ava reads VERY widely. she loves reading plays & acting them out in the apartment. she has her own little library on the OCS extranet too, & she downloads all of Shakespeare’s stuff & puzzles through it and googles stuff but the pentameter makes sense to her & she loves sometimes how initially inaccessible it is to her because it feels good to unearth the meaning.

her favourite plays are Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf and sadly Beatrice does persuade her to read Waiting for Godot and she does kind of think it’s good.

Ava is the one who likes reading fantasy books. she adores The Hobbit & this somehow leads to her finding the ‘legless lego legolas’ post & she spends a whole afternoon laughing randomly until Beatrice finally gives in to her curiosity and she is just ‘…. oh, Ava’ when she reads the crappy screenshot version of it that Ava shows her.

my girl Ava obviously loses it a bit over the Frodo/Sam dynamic in lotr (she likes to perform the travelling songs ofc. Ava is like repressed theatre kid energy fr) & Beatrice (happily) listens to her talk about Frodo and Sam for a whole half hour one evening while she chops vegetables.

Ava just really likes adventure stories & stories where characters are thrown together on a quest and become friends.

she’s obviously embarrassingly a sucker for the friends-to-lovers trope in fiction, but she also just enjoys stories about friendship because she’s had so few experiences of that in her life. she has  Beatrice and she kind of has Cam & everyone else doesn’t feel like a friend, exactly. Ava reads the Red Sister trilogy by Mark Lawrence and vibes so much with Nona Grey because of her wild and speechless loyalty to her friends (& yeah, the Sister Apple & Sister Kettle romance and the start of book 2 made her extremely giggly).

she also loves The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin bc the thing at the start of the book that goes “for all those who have to fight for the respect that everyone else is given without question” - Ava FELT that. & just the parallels for her in that book were very powerful. plus plate tectonics magic slaps.

& yeah, Ava is really interested in magic systems. she likes what they reveal about the worlds they exist in, and how they shape the narrative, and also just the rlly cool ones & the weird cheeky thrill of being like ‘….welp, i can do that too actually.’

Ava also really loves fiction with interesting characters and great dialogue and she loves description and colour and everything that pours life into art.

i’d say there isn’t much that Ava doesn’t like, but she isn’t huge into non-fiction because she MUCH prefers to just pester Beatrice about it, & have her voice explain things, and add her own little corrections and opinions with her cute smart smirk. and Ava thinks it is good for Beatrice to express her opinions on things.

she likes how Bea looks when she is Thinking and Processing, and also the excitement in her hands when she explains astrophysics or shows Ava a picture of a spider or tells her about obscure bits of architectural history, the banking system in Florence under the Medici, and all the knowledge she has been muffling with prayer.

Ava thinks that it is H O T but also important and Beatrice looks so free to her, and so good, when she is speaking on some subject with her eyes drifting freely around the room, always coming back to Ava, to her eyes, making sure she is still interested because Beatrice has been ignored so often, and stifled so often, but when she looks back Ava is always watching, and always listening.

so yeah! the girlies like to read & are very smart & i love them every day.

[britishassistant]

Imagine reporter Yuu goes on a date with a guy who's appears very average but somehow miraculously avoids the various schemes of the villains and heroes to chase them off. If anything they backfire often, putting the guy and Yuu in even more romantic situations. The guy is completely oblivious to these schemes, he just himbo's his way in and out of situations.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

Riddle tries to interfere by relying on Ace and Deuce’s stellar talents for mischief-making. The problem is the reporter recognizes them, despite their brilliant and clever disguises and their date recognizes that they recognize the two bartenders who’ve just come to serve them. The guy jumps up, eagerly introducing himself to Yuu’s friends, and begins asking about what they like to do together. The topic of conversation is enough to guilt trip Deuce into sabotaging Ace’s attempts to slip the date a drugged drink, and all of Trey, Cater, and Riddle’s subsequent attempts as well.

Leona scoffs at the display. Don’t these idiots know the simplest approach is the direct one? So he King’s Roar’s a lamppost as the two are walking to their restaurant, hoping that a concussion or fractured collarbone will bring this date to a swift close. Only for the guy to trip on a crack in the pavement, crashing into Yuu and sending the two of them spinning into a french dip. Leona growls at the two of them laughing bashfully as they straighten up and keep walking, hand in hand.

Oh dear, oh dear, this is a fine mess, isn’t it? Better now that Azul sends Jade and Floyd in as undercover wait staff to do damage control. The problem is this guy is so oblivious, he keeps misinterpreting even Floyd’s bluntest threats as advice for how to better woo Yuu (order the mushroom dishes and plenty of physical affection). And worst of all? It’s working.

Jamil can’t help pinching the bridge of his nose at this incompetence. It’s easy to Snake Whisper members of staff after Floyd storms out, with Jade harassing the chefs for his own portion of their famous mushroom dish. He’ll just make sure to destroy the mood completely and utterly by having the servers spill something on the date. The problem is, Kalim gives the servers a fancy dessert and bottle of wine to “spill”, and the date, somehow, manages to catch the dessert before it hits him and assumes the wine is meant to be poured into their glasses. The wait staff still apologize profusely and Jamil is furious to realize they’ve just given them free drinks and dessert.

Vil sighs. Well, if you want something done right, as they say. The concoction he’s brewed will knock this irritant right out before they’re even in the taxi, throughly putting Yuu off. Rook’s even in position now, dart prepared and everything…and a bus with Neige’s new makeup brand passes by. Rook, distracted by the beauté, fires too early. The couple are surprised when the lady in front of them in the queue suddenly lists to the side and begins snoring, but when the taxi driver asks if they want to get in, they’re quick to.

Of course those normies wouldn’t be able to handle this. Idia grins to himself as he scrambles the GPS in the taxi’s navigation system. Let’s see how this punk reacts to being horrifically lost in the wilderness!…As it turns out, pretty well, given that the taxi ends up taking them to a quiet little hill overlooking a lake with a perfect view of the stars. Idia headdesks when Ortho reports back to him with this.

So it ultimately all falls to Malleus to ensure this night does not end in marriage. He’s wearing his most daunting supervillain outfit, horns practically sparking with power as he appears behind the couple—! Bringing all the many, many small glowing green sparks that Yuu’s learned to associate with him as he does so. Their date is delighted by the appearence of the “fireflies” and Yuu turns around to where Malleus is standing in the shade of a tree, eyes shining and smile wide as they mouth, ‘thank you’. Damn him, but Malleus has never been one to deny his Child of Man their happiness.

And then at the end of the date, the guy thanks Yuu for a lovely time, but suggests maybe they’re better off as just friends.

Yuu is a bit disappointed, but it happens. They just need some cuddling with Grim and bad movies and junk food with Yuuken before they’re ready to try again.

[comicaurora]

Yo, I had a very weird dream last night, and one of the parts involved your comic. I think what happened is I apparently thought the comic got cancelled but it turns out the website just utterly crashed and you were trying to fix it, even making a post to clarify the confusion.

But also something else crashed too? It might have been the channel, but it also could have been another comic, I think. You're not that insane, right? But yeah, your comic and content have now effected me to the point that I now will have dreams about them which means I like it a lot.

the site's been having some server-side funkiness for the last couple days so I think this is officially a prophetic vision

[sasquapossum]

I don't mind the literal open-world part as much as the unreasonable proliferation of side quests, especially when it's strictly necessary to grind through at least 90% of them to get the gear and skills you need to progress in the main story line. That goes double if the reason you need them to progress is because there's a boss who's not interesting in any way but just has so much health that you have to spend 10-20 minutes avoiding the Big Attacks and chipping away at them bit by tiny bit. Very lazy game design IMO. An open-world game without these flaws would be fine with me.

But you know what makes me Even Angrier? Games that are online when they don't really need to be. I don't particularly want to join parties or buy stuff in auctions or whatever. If there's a chat window I'm closing it. And I very much do not want my game that I paid for to become unplayable every time the servers crash or get overwhelmed because the people running them are utterly incompetent. Looking at you, Blizzard.

I'm so so sick of open world games

[coreancitizen]

2021 Year in Review: My Korean drama recommendations

Another year, another batch of Korean dramas that I thoroughly enjoyed. This year's list is a lot longer than last year's, and I don't know if that's because 2021 had a better "crop" of shows or if I just watched a million more, LOL.

To be clear, this is NOT a list of the best Korean dramas of 2021, just the ones I've actually watched and loved. If you're interested in checking out my recommended shows last year, you can find them here. And here's 2021's list in no particular order, more after the cut:

YUMI'S CELLS

I love, love, love this series. It's hilarious, sexy, clever and touching. I'm laughing one moment, crying the next, and then back to laughing again. Kim Go Eun stars as Kim Yumi, an office worker who's been stuck in a rut after her longtime boyfriend dumped her. "Yumi's Cells," based on a popular webtoon, is the story of how she learns to live again, rediscover a long-forgotten dream and open her heart. What makes this familiar story different is that we see part of it told from the point of view of her cells -- animated characters that represent reason, emotion, love, lust, hunger, fashion, etc. The animation is so well done, the voice actors pitch perfect and Kim Go Eun grounds Kim Yumi and makes her utterly human and relatable. Plus I was happy to see her in adorable outfits! Ahn Bo Hyun gives romantic interest Goo Woong, a straightforward game developer, an awkward, lovable charm. (Viki)

UNCANNY COUNTER

This series came out in 2020 but didn't air its last episode until January 2021. It follows high school student So Mun as he joins a group of grim reapers called Counters in battling evil spirits. That's when they are not staffing a very popular restaurant called Eonni's Noodles. There's so much to love about this show: a heartwarming found-family aspect, cool action sequences, interesting demon cases and a well-paced overarching mystery that is connected to two of the Counters. With So Mun are Mrs. Chu, the healer Counter and chef of Eonni's Noodles; Ga Mo-Tak, an amnesiac former detective with ties to So Mun who employs impressive knife skills to chop up vegetables as the restaurant's assistant cook; and Do Ha Na, the chief server who can hear/spot evil spirits miles away and read memories with a touch. The cast has a fun chemistry that makes the members enjoyable to watch. No wonder the show earned a second season. (Netflix)

NAVILLERA (LIKE A BUTTERFLY)

Get some tissues before you start watching this lovely drama about a retiree, Sim Deok Chul (Park In Hwan), who decides he wants to pursue his long-abandoned dream of dancing ballet and the young male dancer, Lee Chae Rok (portrayed by Song Kang), who has the gift and the passion but not the focus to truly soar. The lead actors in this are wonderful and have such a tender chemistry. Watching the characters learn to trust each other, care for each other and stand up for each other is heartwarming. And the lead characters are not the only ones figuring out their dreams. The series does a very good job looking at how dreams are sometimes imposed on us (parental expectations), how dreams change, how we figure out what our dreams are, etc., through its supporting cast. (Netflix)

MOVE TO HEAVEN

You'll need to grab more tissues for this heartfelt drama about Han Geu Ru, a young man with autism, and his estranged uncle, Cho Sang Gu, an ex-convict who moonlights as an underground MMA fighter. Sang Gu becomes Geu Ru's reluctant guardian after his brother's untimely death and helps his young nephew with the family's trauma cleaning business. Tang Jun Sang (baby duckling from "Crash Landing on You") and Lee Je Hoon are fantastic as two strangers bound by blood who learn not only to live together but to trust and love one another as they uncover the secret lives of strangers while cleaning their homes and packing up what remains of their lives after they die. (Netflix)

TAXI DRIVER

Another series revolving around a found family. Kim Do Gi (Lee Je Hoon) is a former elite soldier whose mother was murdered several years ago. He now works as a driver for a taxi company that is essentially a cover for a group of vigilantes headed by CEO Jang Sung Chul. A hacker and 2 mechanics make up the rest of the group. All members had known tragedy and pain and now offer a "revenge" service for clients to get back at people who've managed to elude legal justice. However, a sharp prosecutor threatens the secret group as she begins sniffing around their cases. Lee Je Hoon showed he can handle action in "Move to Heaven" and he is featured in several amazing fight and chase sequences here. The cases of the week are fascinating and heartrending and there's an overarching case that becomes the focus in the latter part of the series. Hear tell there's a second season coming and I'm excited for it. (Viki)

MISTER QUEEN

This series is SO. MUCH. FUN. A cocky chef from the present gets his soul transported to the Joseon era into the body of a young, depressed queen. Chaos AND hilarity ensue. Nothing in my previous encounters with Shin Hae Sun in other series prepared me for how PERFECT she would be as Queen Cheorin. It's not easy to exude alpha male energy when you're wearing a pretty royal dress but she makes it work. And she has great chemistry with Kim Jung Hyun, who plays King Cheoljong, who may not be what he seems. I'm slightly disappointed with the ending only because the series seemed to imply some things but didn't have the courage to follow it through. Still, it didn't take much away from my overall enjoyment of this hilarious fusion sageuk as a whole. (Viki)

THE KING'S AFFECTION

I just realized I saw quite a number of sageuks last year. We go back to the Joseon era for this, where the crown princess gives birth to twins! You'd think this would be cause for celebration -- 2 for the price of 1 -- but apparently not if you are royalty. Some nonsense about the legitimacy of the young prince's claim to the throne being questioned because he shared a womb with a lowly girl and it's a faked death for our baby princess. Fast-forward a few years later and her brother meets an untimely demise so she takes his identity to save everybody from certain death. Park Eun Bin is another revelation for me, totally exhibiting BDE while surrounded by impossibly tall and pretty men. Rowoon is the royal tutor who becomes the object of the royal affection. (Netflix)

HOMETOWN CHA CHA CHA

The plot of this series sounds like a Hallmark Channel movie: Girl has a bad experience in the city, moves to a remote town, clashes with the residents before finding common ground and finds herself falling for the local handyman, who may or may not be what he seems. But a charming cast, solid writing and 16 episodes certainly make a huge difference. Shin Min Ha and Kim Seon Ho are adorable as the bickering and bantering Yoon Hye Jin, a dentist, and Hong Du Sik, the jack of all trades of the fictional town of Gongjin. And Lee Sang Yi as Director Ji Seong Hyun has made me rethink my aversion to love triangles. In fact, the love triangle in this K-Drama is one of the things I enjoyed most about it. I love the relationship between Hye Jin and her sunbae, the director. BUT, I also love the bromance between the director and Du Sik. A charming supporting cast with solid storylines of their own completes this wonderful, heartwarming, healing series. (Netflix)

HOSPITAL PLAYLIST 2

At this point, visiting with the Fab Five of Yulje Medical Center is as comforting as a bowl of chicken noodle soup on a rainy night. The second season brings more songs, more patients and more bickering among our favorite doctors. A couple of the supporting cast members get a bit more of the spotlight, but the show knows the main attraction is still the group of Ik Jun, Seong Hwa, Jeong Won, Jun Wan and Seok Hyeong. During the show's run, it was announced that it was likely going to be the final season -- for now. So it's no surprise that romantic seeds planted in the first season FINALLY bear fruit. I'm going to miss our quirky quintet and hope they return sometime soon. (Netflix)