#//I WENT TO GET MY OLD PASSWORD FOR THIS

[carcarrot]

LAURENCE HARVEY a.k.a. LARUSHKA MISCHA / ZVI MOSHEH SKIKNE (born october 1st, 1928 - died november 25th, 1973)

“I always believed in Laurence Harvey, even when nobody else did. Especially when nobody else did.”

“Most people imagined they knew and understood Larry with little trouble. That was a big mistake. They didn't know how deep and complex, how elusive, he remained behind his social mask.” - Paulene Stone, his wife

“I cannot yield to failure, it would make far too many people happy.”

[dejatiny]

Welp on that note im going to bed.....fml ughhhhh why

[thedissociatives]

my college has Fucked Up and now i can't log in to any of my shit

[ruggiezz]

— EMBARASSING THINGS THEY DID IN THE PAST : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] embarassing things they did when they were younger that now haunt them whenever they are trying to sleep

[characters] deuce, cater, trey (+chenya), leona, ruggie, jack, malleus

[extra] my last 3 posts are literally so unserious, so here's another one, for the funsies (ily guys)

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

When he was in elementary school, he would chat with his friends while waiting for his mom to come pick him up and take him home. That particular day, his mom was late, and 6-year-old Deuce freaked out. He was convinced that his mom didn't love him anymore, and that's why he wouldn't pick him up—that he was going to be homeless and would have to live on the streets in a cardboard box. He even started crying, which made his friends cry. They started saying goodbye to Deuce because how were they going to see him again if his mom wouldn't bring him to school?

Anyways, his mom came to pick him up 10 minutes later.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Back then when he actually tried to make friends whenever he moved schools, he had a huge crush on one of his classmates. One day, he overheard his crush talking about how they "would love to be with someone who loves nature as much as them". Cater wanted to impress his crush so badly that he made a Magicam post with him posing next to random trees and captioned it with "I love nature so much omg😍".

The photo is still out there on the internet because he forgot the password for the account, and the idea of someone from NRC finding the account terrifies him.

★﹕TREY CLOVER (+CHENYA)

Another one that takes place in elementary school. Trey and Chenya were walking around the city after classes when they spotted an electricity pylon. They thought it was the Eiffel Tower (the equivalent of it in Twisted Wonderland), and they got all excited about it, so they came back with Trey's parents so they could take a picture of them next to it.

Their parents bring up the topic from time to time just to laugh at their innocence back then.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

When he was a little kid, he had a nightmare where he was being chased. He was tossing around the bed, mumbling while sleeping. Falena was walking around the halls when he heard noises from Leona's room, and when he saw him clearly having a nightmare, he tried to wake him up. Leona got so startled that he screamed and kicked his older brother in the face.

Sometimes he remembers when he's about to fall asleep, and suddenly his sleepiness is gone from how much he cringed.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He needed money, so he decided to work as a party mascot. It went well the first couple of times; it paid well, until he had to work at this particular kids party. The parents told Ruggie to walk down the stairs, greet the kid, wish him a happy birthday, and then just stand there to greet the children whenever they talked to him. Keep in mind that he couldn't see well in the mascot suit. So when Ruggie tried to walk down the stairs, he tripped and fell. The suit's head fell off, and there was just silence for around ten seconds, then the kids started crying. They thought their favorite character had just died right in front of them.

The birthday boy was inconsolable. Needless to say, Ruggie didn't get paid, and his party mascot careed ended that day.

★﹕JACK HOWL

It happened when his parents weren't home. His younger siblings were playing around with paint, and they asked him if they could paint his face. Jack said yes because it was harmless and would wash off, right? Wrong, it was permanent paint.

He had an important exam the next day, so he just showed up to school with his face looking like a kid painting that parents would display on the fridge door. Jack had to go to school like that for three days.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus has known Lilia for as long as he can remember; he basically raised him. One day, he had the genius idea to copy his hair. He waited for a moment when he was left unsupervised (in Lilia's defense, Malleus faked being asleep), grabbed some scissors, and cut his own bangs. It was awful; it looked like how you would think a little kid would cut their hair. He was so proud of himself until Lilia saw it. To little Malleus dismay, Lilia laughed his ass off, and whenever his laughter would stop, he would look at Malleus and start laughing again.

He got so upset he burned Lilia's bangs off.

[xeneric-shrooms]

This phone business is so stressful

[kissmefriendly]

Very few games have ever screwed up my head but. The orphanage arc in FL haunts me years later

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix’s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

[missbaphomet]

I hate you apple I hate you apple I hate you apple

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 2 -

Prologue : Chapter 1 : Not edited : 3.4k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

---

-suit colors -can shut my quirk completely off -isn't a piece of shit -password. -others cant turn my shit off either      -katsuki

The note Katsuki left was majority scribbles, clearly written the second he left. You found it right when you were leaving, the crumpled sticky note being placed next to your keys.

Getting the watch set up and made for him would be difficult. Mainly making sure others can't tamper with his quirk. Everything else would be easy. Two weeks tops. Simply needed to take the same material used for his gloves and gauntlets and use it for his watch. The password and personal quirk disabled features would also be easy, just using the same techniques that normal quirk handcuffs use.

When you got to your office you immediately got to work. Drawing up the design and adding in the small details you wanted to add. You went through your email as well, getting the details Izuku sent you about what he wants. Unluckily for him, you would have to order the stuff he needs, everything Katsuki needed was already in the building. His case was personally yours so you saved up any left over materials from his suit. The quirk removing feature would take more time to set up though.

---

"Hey!" someone shouted, tacking your name to the end.

You just entered Katsuki's hero agency for lunch, talking with the sweet old receptionist. Ignoring the shout, you thanked the lady for buzzing you up. Walking over to the elevators and pushing the button to go up.

"Don't ignore me!" The voice whined. You rolled your eyes stepping into the elevator and frantically clicking the button to close the doors.

The doors almost shut completely, a hand stopping it a second to late and getting crushed.

"Fuckin' christ!" You opened the door as quick as you could, trying to make sure they weren't injured. They were doubled over, holding their hand to their chest. "Are you okay?" You asked, grabbing their shoulder to lift them away, attempting to see the injury.

They started shaking and panic ran through you, before you could yell to the receptionist to call paramedics they started laughing. Standing up straight and smiling, placing their 'injured hand' on your shoulder to support their laughter.

"Oh go fuck yourself," you brushed them off. Pressing the elevator open again.

"I'm sorry it was too easy!" He smiled. Moving to stand next to you again.

You ignored him once again. Stepping into the elevator that he unfortunately joined. Looking at the door that previously crushed his hand. "You broke the door," you pointed out, crossing your arms.

"Holy shit, Bakugo is going to kill me," he paled.

"That's what you get for activating your quirk between metal, Kirishima," you commented.

"Ouch, last name?" he feigned pain, clutching a hand to his heart, "Come on, how was I supposed to know?"

You glanced at him briefly, "You nickname your quirk unbreakable, what did you expect?" You deadpanned.

"Not that!"

"Be serious, I know you're not that dumb," you said, stepping out of the elevator at Katsuki's floor. Beginning the path to his office.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he complained, "but you ignored me completely."

"I wonder why."

"Come on," he pleaded, "I said I was sorry."

"Don't care," you knocked on Katsuki's office.

"Please," he begged.

"No."

Just as Kirishima opened his mouth to beg more, Katsuki opened his door. "The fuck are you two bitching about?" Katsuki looked at you for an answer. Which you shrugged and made your way inside. Sitting in his desk chair and sorting through the food he ordered for you two.

Katsuki turned his head to Kirishima, wanting an answer. "She won't talk to me," he pointed at you like a child.

Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Really?"

Before he could start getting to you about acting like a child you pointed back at Kirishima, "He broke your elevator."

He glared at the red head.

"I was just trying to talk to her!"

"And you needed to break my elevator to do that?"

Kirishima paused his comeback, knowing anything he wanted to say would be flawed. You choked back a laugh, cause Katsuki to turn to you.

"Don't act like you're innocent," he pointed, "All ya had to do was to talk him and my door wouldn't be broken."

"Nah, he broke my shit," you shrugged.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Yet now you just broke his shit too," you backed.

"What else did he break?" Katsuki asked.

You pointed towards Kirishima, and his hero outfit, "He broke his shoulder guards, again. I've fixed them five times this month because of the stupid shit he is doing."

"Whatever, out," Katsuki motioned for Kirishima to leave. Which he did, with a pout on his face. Katsuki shut the door and walked over. "Why do you insist on stealing my chair everytime?"

"The other ones aren't comfortable," you answered, handing him his food and opening yours to start eating. "Oh!" You perked up, "I finished the design for your watch, just need everything ordered and I'll start on it."

He took a break from his food, looking up at you, "How long?"

"Shipment should get here in two days, they just had a huge order and have a ton of left overs, so I'm using the stuff they have extras of. Wanna see the design?" You smiled, pulling up a picture on your phone when he nodded.

He looked over the notes you wrote down, zooming in on the smaller details, "looks good."

"Good!" You smiled.

His office door opened, "I forgot, we're having a little get together at Denki's place Saturday," Kirishima smiled before shutting the door again.

"No."

"Come on Kats," you begged, trying to meet his eyes.

"Nuh uh," he took a bite of his food, looking up briefly and meeting your eyes.

"Please! We haven't hung out with them in forever!" You pointed out.

"We hung out last night."

"Yeah, with Z', not with your friends."

"No."

He glared at you until he felt your hand rest on the top of his, "Please?"

"Fuckin' fine," he brushed off your hand and continued eating.

---

"This is lot more then a little get together," Katsuki grumbled right after pushing the door open. Disregarding a knock all together and walking straight in, taking a pause in his step.

You took a glance over his shoulder, since he took up the majority of the small hallway that started off the apartment, seeing the solid twenty or more people that crowded Denki's and Sero's apartment. "It's fine, it's not like we are forced to stay long," you pushed his back lightly, getting him to walk in entirely.

"Kacchan! Surprised you came!" Denki smiled once he saw Katsuki leave the hallway, you stepping out from behind him. "Thanks for dragging him here," Denki came up to you, giving you a one armed hug since his other hand was holding a beer.

"What else am I good for," you joked, "Didn't you say this was a small get together?"

"I was just trying to increase the odds of #2 pro hero coming in," he shrugged, Katsuki shooting him a glare and you a look, saying he wished he never came. "Now make yourselves at home, I gotta make sure Mina doesn't eat all the jello shots."

You watched Denki skip to the kitchen, instantly yelling at a stuffed faced Mina. Looking around the room you saw Sero sitting in a chair with two open spots next to it, turning back to Katsuki, he already knew your look, "Go, I'll get you a drink."

Sero saw you heading his way and gave you a wave. He was sitting in a recliner and had a loveseat spaced next to it. You took the loveseat and leaned on the armrest close to him, kicking your feet unto the other half of the couch to prevent someone stealing Kats spot.

"How's work?" Sero asked once you gave him your attention.

"Good, busy as always. But I've been ahead of the game lately, I think I can start branching out more on my own soon," you smiled.

"Exciting," he smiled, " I see you got the grump outside for once," he nodded to Katsuki, who was being badgered by some of Denki's sidekicks/partners.

You laughed, "Yeah, you're not the first to tell me that tonight, but I'm not surpised. He went out with me last night to Z' as well."

"Did you drug him? I won't snitch."

"No, I think his mom yelled at him or something," you pretended to expose. Hiding the truth behind Katsuki's behavior, which was likely the civilian death he had to deal with recently. "But how's your work?"

"Meh, it's hero work," he drank from his cup, "Recently had to deal with a spider villain so it was weird. It was like fighting myself if I had eight legs and eyes."

The two of you continue to talk about work or recent things between friends. Briefly discussing Kirishima and Mina's budding relationship that's been going on for years. Just before Sero could question your own relationship, Katsuki came back.

"Fuckin' nerds wouldn't leave me alone," he grumbled picking up your legs and sitting on the couch with you, handing you a drink.

"You love the attention," you bumped him with your knee, "and careful, might summon them again."

Casual conversation formed once again, banter between you and Katsuki, and annoyance from him to Sero. On the heated topic of old heroes. With Sero caring less, and just wanting to rile him up.

You smiled along with their conversation, more focus on Katsuki. He's rested into the chair despite being annoyed at the conversation. Having a hand rested on your knee and the other rested on the armrest, holding a low carb beer. Which he took a sip of every once in a while before he had to tell Sero he was wrong again. You admired every move of his, from his sharp jaw, to defined cheekbones, and his bright red eyes. Only stopping when Sero called you out.

"Stop eye fucking in front of me," Sero gagged.

"The fuck?" Katsuki question, not ever aware of what you were doing, "We're not."

"You might not be," Sero smirked.

"Oh fuck you, Sero," you rolled your eyes. Ignoring the blush you felt heating your face.

"Don't push your feelings onto me," Sero teased.

"Oh my god," you groaned, " I give up." Sero crackled as he laughed at you. "Shouldn't you be talking about your dumbass celebrity crush in America?"

"Who's that?" Katsuki questioned, willing to change the topic of conversation again.

"He has a crush on an actor, Ryan Reynolds. The one that reenacts the old anti-hero Deadpool," you informed.

"It's normal in America! Every guy loves him, even the straightest!" Sero defends.

"You do know the murders that Deadpool committed right?" Katsuki questioned, wanting to get on the topic of heroes, a topic he knew everything about.

The debate between whether Deadpool committed crimes for good or not was easily started. Giving yourself another chance to look at Katsuki. Not wanting to be caught you looked at the hand rested on your knee. Reaching out your own hand to trace over his. Soft and smooth from his sweat but rough from the work day. He let his hand lose the soft grip on your knee, letting you hold his entire hand freely. You traced over the rough pads of his fingers that you knew would turn soft again in the morning. Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and the veins that lined the top of his hand. Remembering how a few years ago he would freak out if you tried to do this exact thing. Only this year has he started to let you hold his hand for longer than five minutes.

Yet he still wasn't perfect. Eventually he pulled his hand from your grip and wiped his hands off on his pants. It seemed like he didn't want your touch on him, it stung. You knew that was unlikely, but the thought couldn't leave your mind. you folded up. Crossing your arms slowly and turning your attention back onto Sero. Which caused his eyes to flicker between you and Katsuki, clearly reading your face. Before he could ask anything, he gave him a slight shake of your head.

Eventually Kirishima dragged Katsuki away from the conversation, wanting him as a partner for cup flipping.

"How come you aren't flirting with girls, Sero?" you asked, used to him normally parading the party rooms for someone to flirt with.

"Denki called dibs on everyone here basically," Sero shrugged. He sat up from his slouched sitting, " Now, what the fuck was that?" Sero motioned from you to where Katsuki was now playing games with Kirishima.

Play dumb.

"Whatcha mean?" you took a sip of your drink.

"Don't play that shit with me, He pulled away from you completely," he pointed out.

"I know, he always does that," you pointed out, wanting to stress that this wasn't a big deal.

"Always? You're kidding"

"Nope," you took a sip, "He's actually improved."

"You're saying it used to be worse," His jaw basically dropped.

"It's Katsuki you're talking about right now," you deadplanned, "Speaking of which, we never talked about this. He doesn't know it bugs me and he doesn't need to."

"Yes he does," Sero stressed.

"No he doesn't," you hissed, " I don't want him knowing. It's fine."

"Come on-"

"Sero, stop."

Before he could push forward someone entered your peripheral, standing in front of Katsuki's spot. Turning your head towards him you gave a guarded smile.

"This seat takin?" he somewhat slurred.

"Yeah it-"

"Kidding! I know it's not. No one has sat here for a good 10 minutes from what I've seen," The guy plopped down on the couch, giving you barely enough time to kick your feet off the couch and scoot over the crowd the armrest into order to not touch the guy. You and Sero shared a look. "So, what's a girl like you doing here alone," The guy smiled, slapping a hand down on your thigh to gain your attention back from Sero.

"I'm not alone?" you peeled his hand from your thigh, dropping it back onto his lap, "I was actually just talk to my friend here abo-"

He put his hand back on your thigh, "I was asking why you had no boyfriend here, you're so pretty."

"I do have one-" you tried to cut in.

"I'll be your boyfriend, names Mason," he smiled weirdly.

Once again, you peeled his hand off your leg, "No thanks."

"Is it cause the name? I'm from America, I'm not lying about my name to sound cool," he hurried out, replacing his hand on your thigh.

"Trust me, I know you're not trying to sound cool," you spoke out disgust, "Now could you please not?" Sero and you shared another look, his asking if he should step in, but you shook your head. You could handle this just fine.

He pondered for a moment, "It's cause you don't know me right? Well, I'm from America. Here to learn about the Japanese heroes-"

"Dude," you cut him off, "I could give less of a fuck, please leave me alone."

"Don't play hard to get," he grabbed onto your leg harder.

Just before Sero jumped in-

"I leave for five fucking minutes," Katsuki spits out.

The guy looked over the back of the couch, "Sorry, did you plan to make a move? I swung first sorry dude, better luck next time."

"No, I fuckin' plan to swing first on the dude that's holding onto my fuckin' girlfriend."

You took the opportunity of the guy being distracted to get his hands off you, and to leave the couch.

"Hey, babe don't leave yet, the guys just being an ass, he'll leave soon," the creep called out to you.

Everyone's attention was on the guy now. Staring at him baffled that he called #2 pro hero an ass right in front of him and his girlfriend. You stepped closer to Sero, prepared for what was about to happen.

"That's it," Katsuki grabbed the hair on the back of the guys head and yanked him down. Couch flipping over with the guy. A quick stomp on the dude stomach had him rolling over in enough pain.

"My couch!" Denki yelped.

"Fuck your couch and fuck your party," Katsuki walked up to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you to leave.

"Gimme a second, I want to say bye," you tugged on his hold when he got to the hallway that lead to the front entrance.

He looked at you baffled, "You just got felt up, they could care less if you said bye right now."

"Kats, I'm fine. I would of handled it if you didn't."

"Fine, say bye," he waved you off, crossing his arms and guarding the exit.

You walked up to where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki were standing watching drunk Mina lecture the creep.

"Hey, I'm heading out," you spoke from behind them, getting their attention.

"That's fine girl, Imma kick his ass more for you," Mina slurred as she jumped to hug you, almost knocking you off your feet. She pulled back from the hug and held onto your shoulders, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, getting her out of your hold and pushing her into Kirishima, "Make sure she doesn't do something stupid."

"I will, I'll deal with the guy too. What he did was fucking gross," you flinched, it was rare to hear Kirishima curse.

"I bet you will," laughed off. Hugging Sero and thanking Denki for inviting you, all of them double checking if you were okay. It warmed your heart that they were heroes, it was truly the right career. So after confirming that you were fine, you walked back to Katsuki.

"Done?"

"Yep," you put your shoes back on and left the apartment together.

Once in his car, Katsuki turned to you. "You sure you're okay? I'll go put the guy in fucking jail."

You laughed, "I'm fine, Kirishima has it handled."

"You sure?"

"It's not the worst thing a guy has said to me," you shrugged, "Can we get some fast food?"

"The fuck else has a guy said to you?"

"Nothing important Kats, can we drop it? I'm fine."

He eyed you warily, trying to find the correct way to go about this. He sighed and gave in, "What fast food?"

"I don't know, I want a shake."

---

The two of you got the food and cozied on your couch, digging in once you had a random Netflix movie playing. With half of your attention on the movie, and half on the situation, you decided to bring it up. "Is it weird that what the guy did doesn't bug me much?"

Katsuki glance your way, "No? Everyone has different reactions to everything."

"The main thing that bugs me is that people can't tell we are dating, like ever," you said honestly. "Like the dude didn't buy I had a boyfriend in general."

He hummed in reply.

"Our own friends forget half the time, like I wish they knew we were together, and took my word for it," you sighed.

"I know how you feel," Katsuki looked down at his hands, that held his half eaten burger.

"Even you feel that way?" you grabbed a couple fries to eat.

He looked at you, "The other night with that Nana girl, just wished it was more obvious."

"We can't blame them though, it's not like we act like a traditional couple," you shrugged and took a sip of your shake.

"Sorry," shame filled his voice.

You turned to him with you're full attention, "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything?

"That's the issue," he crossed his arms," I don't do anything, I fucking brush you off me," he dropped his arms again. resting them on his knees and putting his face in his hands.

"Hey," you reached for his shoulder. Stopping when he flinched away from you, "Sorry," you mumbled. Forgetting he hates being sneaked up on or touched when he isn't paying attention.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, I don't do anything but pull away from you. And you're honestly telling me you're fucking happy in this relationship?" Katsuki looked at you. Getting up to pace when you just stared at him, confused by his outburst.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him pace the room.

He paused, "Why wouldn't I be? You give me everything I need. I don't even fucking acknowledge your primary love language while you hit every goal of mine."

"Kats, what I said to the girls the other night is the truth, I'm okay with it. The things you need are just as important, and if that's to not touch, that's fine."

"Fucking bullshit-"

"Katsuki," you said his name sharply, "I mean it."

"I don't know how-"

"That doesn't matter, you're worried I'm unhappy and I'm telling you that I am happy. Because I am, now can we please not get into this right now? Tonight already hasn't gone well."

"Fuck, you're right, I'm sorry," he rubbed his hands over his face and went back to his spot of the couch. leaving his food half touched. He opened his arms, "You can lay on me if you want."

"Katsuki, I told you, no physical touch is-"

"That's not what I'm getting at, c'mere," he motioned towards himself. And who were you to refuse, quickly curling up into his side and watching a movie to wash the bad day off you're mind.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 2

Propaganda:

Fiddleford McGucket/Stanford Pines:

lab "partners" who broke the laws of physics and nature together but it went horribly wrong and one of them got stranded in alternate dimensions and the other wiped his memory so hard he went mad. 30 years later and they were finally able to reunite during the apocalypse. even though both had changed so much they wanted to forgive each other and move forwards

if fiddauthor isn't real then why is there only one bed in the bunker. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did they go stargazing and talk about wanting to start a family. if fiddauthor isn't real then why "my partner" and "my fiddleford". if fiddauthor isn't real then why does fiddleford subconsciously hang out around the shack decades after he stopped living there. if fiddauthor isn't real then why does ford have dreams about him every night. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did fiddleford leave his son and his failing/failed marriage to go live alone in an isolated cottage in the woods with his best friend from college. if fiddauthor isn't real then why is ford's ideal world one where he gets to work with fiddleford for the rest of time. if fiddauthor isn't real then why "life would be a nightmare without them" and "it's the most meaningful thing in the world". if fiddauthor isn't real then why did alex hirsch change that one scene in the book to sound less gay. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did fiddleford make his laptop password ford's name. if fiddauthor isn't real then why did they hold hands while hugging. if fiddauthor isn't real then why "i could have sworn that as he joyfully played, i could see the age lift off his face, and see the fiddleford who had been my friend so many years ago". IF FIDDAUTHOR ISN'T REAL THEN WHY DID FORD'S MORE HONEST RETELLING OF THE PORTAL SCENE FEATURE HIM GENTLY CRADLING FIDDLEFORD IN HIS ARMS

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear:

THEY LITERALLY MADE MR CRY THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED THE GAME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY FINALLY GET TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME.

they are married in canon and are epic and amazing. they had sad canon events where bob thought helmut was dead for like 30 years or something but helmut WASN'T dead his brain was still alive and they are reunited in the game first by way of stealing an evil dictator's body and then later on they put helmut's brain in a ball as a temporary fix while they go out to find his body which has been frozen in ice. the game forces you to walk through bob's memory of saying his vows at their wedding ceremony and it's seriously some of the most romantic and heartwarming shit i've ever heard, especially "just when i thought i was turning to seed, you made me bloom again" like my god. i love them

they're gay and old as hell!!!! there's a level dedicated to their wedding!!!

Helmut is voiced by Jack Black and is currently a brain in a ball, and Bob knows him so well that the mental image of him in his drunken mind says things Bob KNOWS the real Helmut would never say. Also Helmut is temporarily in the body of a guy voiced by Elijah Wood-

[star-struck-withantlers]

"I'm just saying, if I was you I would not care so much. Your literally rich!" Barty argued, looking around the table trying to get someone else to agree with him.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Your rich too. And, you know how my parents are about grades."

"I only try hard to prove my dad wrong and you know-"

"REGGIE!!!" A small voice - a child's voice? - cut of barty and before Regulus could even register what was happening, a small child was climbing onto the bench beside him.

"Reggie!" The kid jumped onto regulus lap and hugged him. Regulus looked down into the familiar eyes.

"James!?" James. His James. James Potter. But...five. he was five years old. No. That's not right. His James, his Jamie, he was seventeen. This James was small and he had chubby legs and his checks were rounds and he was 12 years younger than he should be.

"Regulus what the fuck?" Evan looked between his friend, the toddler and the rest of the Slytherin table, who were all looking at the pair.

"I...I umm" Regulus picked up his boyfriend... oh no that's weird. And ran out of the hall, through the corridors and to the slytherin common room. He muttered the password and slipped inside, ignoring the weird looks he got from the few people who weren't at lunch in the common room and went straight upstairs.

"It's scawy in 'ere." James mumbled when Regulus sat him down on the bed, looking around the room.

Regulus stopped pacing and crouched down infront of the boy, giving him a gentle smile. "I know, baby but I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." And that seemed to calm him a bit.

Regulus climbed onto the bed and crossed his legs, James climbed and sat between them, giggling when regulus played with his curls.

"Jamie? What happened?" Regulus asked, James turned round in his lap so he was looking up at him with those big brown eyes.

"Potion went boom!" He exclaimed, giggling and throwing his arms in the air, almost hotting regulus and he couldn't help but laugh.

Just then, the dorm door flew open and Barty, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas all stepped in, stopping at the door and watching the interaction.

"So it's true then? Potters a toddler." Dorcas laughed. She hadn't been at lunch she's been 'studying'. She walked over and sat on the bed, ruffling James curls which made him stick his tongue out at her. "He's still at the same maturity level then."

James eyebrows furrowed. "What that mean?"

They laughed.

"Hopefully it won't last long." Pandora commented, resting her head on regulus shoulder.

"How the fuck did that happen?"

"Potion went boom apparently." Regulus shrugged.

[sleepyowlet]

Discord Hack PSA

So, my Discord account of over a decade was hacked yesterday.

The account has been suspended and can't do any damage any more, but not after hours of my reporting the hack. Just in case the hacker can get to you via other hacked accounts, here's their MO:

They will greet you via PM (this will be someone you had friended in the past or at least talked to) if you've got a Nitro subscription - probably with "heyhey".

Then they will ask you to partner with you in a game because they need help with a quest. I actually did ask them why the game is not on Steam because this seemed fishy to me - but I thought I knew this person! So I did as they asked and went to the page soulsthief dot com. No warning from my browser, and the site looks professional and legit. I downloaded the "game", and my antivirus did not wig out until I actually started the exe.

Now, I didn't have 2FA activated for my account - it's so old, it just slipped my mind. That is on me.

Within seconds I was locked out of my account, and the hacker enabled 2FA for it so I couldn't just go and change the password.

So I immediately sent a report to Discord support - but...nothing happened. Nothing. Only after the hacker bought a Nitro gift, my account was finally suspended. But not before hours had passed and the hacker already tried to impersonate me to get to several of my friends! One almost lost her account too but her active 2FA saved her.

So if you are a Discord Nitro user, please beware of any of your friends and contacts asking you to install a game that is not on Steam, Epic, or any other reputable platform! And please activate 2FA.

Support is a complete shitshow and won't do shit if you get hacked.

You might also want to think really well if you wanna give your banking data to a company that won't protect your information in case something happens.

[ihrthoney]

love isn’t enough

pairing: club owner ran haitani x f!reader

warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort

word count: 1.5k

an: first post being back on tumblr! this is a remake of my old work from my old blog!

Ignorance truly is bliss…

but only if you’re stupid.

It was obvious, the signs were as clear as day. Although, love was always so blinding. While you were watching the clouds and enjoying the summer breeze, his eyes followed the birds flying in the other direction. 

There weren’t any lipstick stains on his clothes nor did he stay out later than normal. If there was a faint scent of perfume following him as he walked towards the shower, you brushed it off. Clubs are always full of people, some scents are just stronger than most. 

That’s what you would've continued telling yourself had it not been a smell you learned to get used to. Every night that he came home from work, he smelled vaguely of that same perfume. It could be a regular or a worker who walks past him throughout the night.

You weren’t stupid. As much as you wished you were, you weren’t. 

The perfume wasn’t the only thing you caught on to. Unfortunately, it took weeks for the smell to become something you’ve recognized or rather, something you chose to accept.

Just last week, Ran was off and you guys decided to spend the day in bed and binging shows. That night, you surprised Ran by renting a movie he wanted to see for a while but missed because of work. During the most interesting part, he got a call and usually, he ignored the noise but this time he didn’t hesitate to grab his phone and leave the room. 

You couldn’t remember the last time a work call lasted two hours. While the contact name on the screen said Rindou, you knew better than to believe it. 

He clearly knew how to cover his tracks, his behavior didn’t change, not drastically anyway. His phone didn’t suddenly have a password nor did he try to hide who he was texting. Just like you, he wasn’t an idiot. But as time went on, he must’ve mistook you for one.

You and Ran had been dating since you guys were 18. There’s nothing you don’t know about him, you know him better than yourself sometimes. Any changes in his behavior you notice immediately, he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. 

Despite everything pointing to the tragic truth that Ran was having an affair, you were waiting for him to admit it. It felt unfair to break it off and be left uneven while he was already filling the void.

Years of your life had been devoted to him, you supported him with everything you could give. From cleaning his wounds after gang fights to watching his (and his brothers’) club succeed.

Would there have been a hole in his heart if you left? When did he stop loving you? Why couldn’t he have just broken it off? 

Endless questions were filling your head. It’s been about 3 months since you noticed the perfume. The denial gets harder to run from, reality starts to slowly consume you. 

You wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up in it now, so instead of wallowing away in the empty house you got dressed and ventured into town. 

Of course, it didn’t help in the slightest; everything reminded you of Ran, and the realization that your relationship was coming to an end hurt so much. You walk the streets alone and are reminded of the night of your first date. Hands intertwined, leaning on his shoulder and laughing about something you could no longer remember, you stared at him like he just offered you the world.

“You’re nothing like they say Ran Haitani.” You laughed, you guys are hand in hand, your apartment just a few blocks down.

“What? Am I even more handsome in person?” He says smugly, only half joking.

At that comment, you drop his hand, “Never mind, you’re exactly as they said.” you jokingly say.

“Nah, I’m even better.” Ran remarks. Using your linked hands, he pulls you both to a stop. 

He looks at you for a little bit, the sound of cars faint in the background, and the moonlight softly reflects on his face, “You are so beautiful.”

His voice was so soft, so gentle. As flustered as you were at the compliment, you couldn’t pull your eyes from his.

“I had a really good time with you tonight, yn.” His hand parts from yours and softly cradles your face.

“May I?” At that moment, you would’ve given him anything he could’ve possibly wanted.

You nod in response and he wastes no time in connecting your lips. 

You were so caught up in the memory that you didn’t see the person in front of you. The woman slightly stumbles at your shoulders making contact. You open your mouth, apology at the tip of your tongue when you notice a man next to her.

Suddenly, the world went quiet. The coffee shop you had entered was nothing but a blur as your vision zones onto the man holding the woman’s waist. 

His eyes widen at the sight of you. He was supposed to be at work.

Before an excuse could even form, you turned around and walked straight back home, not daring to look back. 

He was having an affair. There wasn’t enough time to analyze the woman he was with, your mind was too busy swallowing the confirmed suspicions. 

You knew he was cheating, but a small part of you had foolishly clung to the hope that it was just a misunderstanding. Several emotions coursed through your body at once, millions of thoughts raced through your head. Yet, you couldn’t feel a thing. 

So many scenarios played out in your head that you thought you would feel angrier, burn his clothes, and trash the house. But, you couldn’t move a single limb. Instead, you sat quietly on the couch, the apartment dark and even emptier than you left it despite nothing being touched.

There’s a soft click that brings you out of your daze. You hear him take off his shoes and walk towards the living room. With every step, your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

The dread makes your stomach sink, suddenly you feel nauseous. You’re scared, you’re so fucking scared, this wasn’t supposed to be the end. Years of your life will be nothing but a memory and he’ll be someone you have to remember longer than you’ve known.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Ran sitting on a chair at the dining table. 

Without looking at him, you speak. “You’re a coward.” 

There was so much you wanted to say, even more to ask, but the only emotion you could feel was anger. 

“I know.” He said it so quietly, as if speaking any louder would shatter the tension in the air.

You waited to see if he would say more, but he didn’t. The silence was deafening as if the apartment was absent of any soul. 

Swallowing your pride, you spoke up again, “Why didn’t you just break up with me.” 

Ran answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“I deserve better than an “I don’t know”, Ran.” You argued, gaze moving from the tv screen.

For the first time in months, you see him. This wasn’t the man you fell in love with, but rather the shell of him.

Cruelly, he says, “You deserve everything.” 

The tears were starting to burn your eyes, he didn’t deserve your tears, “Don’t, Ran.”

“There’s nothing that I could say that’ll make any of this better. I cheated on you.”

The tension in the air snapped, and your tears started to spill over despite fighting to hold them back. You knew; you saw it with your own eyes, but to hear him actually admit it hurt that much more. There’s no coming back from this, the man you love no longer loves you. 

“How long?” The eye contact between you two never falters. 

“Four months.”

He had been out with another woman for four months. It makes you sick to know he still came back home. You can’t help that sob that chokes out, “Why Ran?”

Ran stands up at the sound of you crying, but you move from the couch and step deeper into the living room. 

“I didn’t want to live without you.” He admits.

At this point you’re sobbing, “That’s so fucking stupid!”

“I don’t love you anymore, yn. But I didn’t know how to let you go. You’ve been in my life since we were 18. I doubt we could’ve been friends-” You interrupt him.

“That’s so unfair! You don’t get to make that choice for me! Maybe you’re right, we probably wouldn’t have been able to be friends after everything but cheating was your next option?” He’s silent at that.

The silence doesn’t last long though, “Get out, Ran.”

There’s so much you want to know, though, your heart wouldn’t be able to handle any more pain. 

Without another word, he turns and walks to the door, taking half of your heart with him.

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[swappedandtrapped]

Rent Help - Part 3

As always, character consistency is hard for me. Just go with it.

I wake up again. Every time I wake up, I have about a minute of peace before my brain starts to boot and realizes where it is. That minute of bliss is what has kept me going recently. It's the only part of the day when I don't feel so… Wrong.

Waking up unwillingly, I go to the bathroom to wash my face. When I arrive, I realize it's been about a week after the car crash and I still can't get used to seeing Roy when I look in the mirror.

I study my new reflection. I stare at my skin blemishes on Roy's dark skin. My big Brown eyes underneath my thick eyebrows. My nose in the middle of the face that is now mine… When I open my mouth to brush my teeth, I see a crooked array of yellowish rectangles. I cringe realizing I'm actually tasting Roy's mouth and teeth 24/7. Roy didn't have a spare toothbrush, so I had to use his old one. Disgusting. I hate this so much. Why doesn't he take care of himself?

When I return to his room to get dressed, I sigh in frustration. During the last few days, I finally understood why Roy felt comfortable walking around without his shirt on. I was just too hot. ALL THE TIME. The meat and fat of his stocky body type kept the heat trapped within me. If I had a shirt on for more than 5 minutes I would start sweating and smell Roy's scent even more.

So just like he did, I elected to spend the day shirtless again. It's not like anyone would see me. Well except for… Me.

After trying to explain to Roy in my body what happened, he's gotten cold. I mean, I would too. I was practically begging him to remember, but when I'm in Roy's body, it's pretty hard to convince someone who he really is.

"I'm coming back late." He states in a premeditatedly cold intonation. "Ok," I reply in the same manner. I didn't see the point to initiate another argument. convincing him is impossible. "I might bring someone back with me. Please don't be weird when she's here." "Ok. I reply again. But missing any sense of my old self, I ask: "Someone I know?" "None of your business Roy." I cringe at the sound of that name. "And also, you don't know any of my friends. They're MY friends. Even if you… Think otherwise…" He goes out, leaving me alone in the flat.

Like a punch in the fucking gut.

Which reminded me, I'm hungry. I order an extra-large Pizza so Roy's stomach would leave me alone. Roy had an apatite I couldn't ignore easily. At first, I fought off his habits, unwilling to accept the new situation. But as the days went on, I gave in to most of Roy's habits. Like eating too much of this junk. I look at my body and feel shame as I admit I lost the battle against Roy's needs.

Later, I lay on the sofa, investigating Roy's phone. Thankfully, he locked his phone with Face ID, so I didn't have to guess any passwords and was able to unlock it. Every time I have some time off, I study his phone and learn a bit more about Roy's schedule and connections.

You see, I did swap bodies with him, but I didn't acquire his memories. So, I try to avoid all contact until I get the hang of whatever relationships he had in his life. "Yes, it's me. I'm Roy." I say to myself, trying to fake his tone. Even though I hear his voice, it still feels fake.

But today, after going through all his texts, I began looking through his notes app. I find there grocery lists, names of bands he wanted to check out, some foreign language I still can't read, and also something with the title… "Research"? What's this?

I open the file and my eyes widen. It's a long note, riddled with an assortment of semi-related bullet points regarding… "POWERS"!?

POWERS

possible timed cooldown? variable? Tested times: 5 days (17/05) 8 days (15/09) 6 days (12/11)

only post 24h mark???

ignore. no cooldown. instance of instant swap back. There's another condition.

Note the eye glow at optional swap time. Starts fading. Possible relation to condition?

Ignore. Doesn't fade.

Best swap triggers: visualize face, focus on identity

He was researching his swapping power. I guess Roy didn't receive a handbook with this ability, so he tried to mark the triggers and limitations he confirmed to be true. This was a goldmine. Maybe there's a limit on how long we can stay swapped?

Wait. If I'm Roy… I have his powers! I can swap us back!

I read the whole file, attempting to figure out exactly what conclusions Roy had and what I needed to do to return to my body. It looks like he could just will the swaps to make them happen, but there was some sort of condition that prevented swapping back at some times. Roy named it "The Condition", and going by his note, he didn't figure out what it was.

I immediately try to follow his technique and will the swap to come. I visualize my body, focus on my identity, but 20 minutes later, I'm still stuck in Roy's flesh. When I looked in the mirror, I still see his regular brown eyes. No glow or anything.

Does this 'condition' he mentioned apply to my situation? Am I just a moment away from retrieving my life back? I need to figure out what it is.

Going over Roy's notes I began piecing together a picture of Roy's swapping experiences. Some were willing, some were not. Some were functional, but some were for no reason at all other than to swap. But after a few hours of going over the cases, I started noticing a pattern.

While swaps were able to occur at any time, reverse swaps would never work on days of a full moon or new moon! That's the only explanation! It fits in every swap Roy documented in this file. This must be it!

But then I stop. Wait, today isn't a full or new moon. Why am I not able to swap us back?

A new fear rushes in as I hear the apartment door open. "Yeah, and then we… Oh, hey Roy," says Roy in my body accompanied by a girl I used to know. She waves politely at me with a certain reservation. I guess he warned her about me… "So it's the last door on the left." He points to the bathroom. "Thanks. It'll be just a minute." She says, closing the door after her.

Roy in my body leans silently on the wall, checking his phone for messages while he waits for her to finish. I look at him with envy.

But then I see it. His eyes. That Glow. It was subtle, but it was definitely there.

I don't have Roy's swapping power.

He does.

It swapped along with his body.

Tears start forming in my eyes as I realize the only hope I had of getting back was never an option. Roy looks up from his phone to me. Seeing my pathetic face in ruin. He makes an expression I can't decipher. Maybe empathy, but probably pity.

My friend exits the bathroom. "Hey," Roy turns to her. "Wait for me in the car, ok? I need to close a small thing with Roy. "Sure. Don't be long." She said going out the door. "I won't." He answers.

We look at each other for a few quiet moments. "Listen, are you gay or something?" "What?" I ask confused. Still in tears. "You want to be me. You cry when you see me with girls. I can add 2 plus 2 you know." "Fucking ass." I spit out. He duped me into this mess. He should rot in hell. "Don't be a bitch man. This can't-" "Bitch!??" I cut him off. "This is all your fault! I'm like this because of you!"

I charge towards him. I'm stuck like this because of him! I needed him to know how much I suffer because of his recklessness! But Roy was quick enough to get out of the way.

"Ok Roy. Fine. You started this." "Fuck off!"

I charge again, and Roy slips to the side again. I stumble and crash onto the living room floor and feel great pain in my back. I scream in pain and frustration. This fucking weight. I start sweating again and smell Roy's body stench, but I can't concentrate on it. I feel my body grounded by another body.

"That's IT Roy!" He yells at me from above. He prevents me from getting up. God dammit why didn't Roy ever go to the gym? "Get off of me!" I shout. "Say your name." He commands me as I struggle. "Say your name Roy." "I'm telling you! I'm not Roy!" I cry out. "It's the deal man, it's the swap deal!"

My face explodes with massive pain. Roy punched me in the fucking face.

"SAY YOUR NAME." "You can still have it! You can still swap us back! Please! Remember!"

Bam. Another one. I hear my nose crack and start feeling the blood.

"This is going to keep happening until you say your fucking name Roy." "You're hurting me! Please! Your eyes! I can tell you have your power!"

This time it was a punch from the right. My head is spinning.

"You know what? Even if I did have this power, I would never swap with you!" He shouts at me. "You are PATHETIC." Punch. "You stay to slob at home. You have no friends. You're an ugly motherfucker that can't even accept who he is!" Another punch.

But he's right. This is me now. I can say whatever I want but the fact remains. I'm in his body, and I'm here. Permanently. And even if he could swap us, he will never do it after this."

"For the last time. Say. Your. Name." "Roy." I whimper. "Louder." "Roy." "Now the whole sentence. Shithead" "My name is Roy."

He lifts me and pushes me in front of a full-length mirror.

"Now say it like you mean it. Tell it to yourself"

I look at my pathetic excuse for a body. I see a chubby guy with a bloody face. I see black hair all over covering a dark skin.

"My name is Roy Alamin." "And don't you fucking forget it."

[chaosandmarigolds]

Among The Bullets

Chapter One, Part 2.

Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, bear with me. Simon doesn’t know how to flirt but he’s trying ok??)

On your schedule, which you were fully planning on ditching once you got your footing, you had a meeting with the Captain of the team before dinner. Made sense in your mind, however, what didn’t make sense was how it didn’t tell you where to meet him- you assumed his office? Did he have an office? How would find said office within the labyrinth of rooms?  So, once again you found yourself very awkwardly standing alone within the bustling crowd, head bowed you looked over the tablet for any missing information. 

You still hadn’t eaten, your eyes were pleading for a moment of closure and your muscles ached for something other than a caffeine-dense drink; yet, there were things that needed to get done and once those things were done would be able to go on with your life. So, you ignored the lightheaded feeling, the grumbling of your stomach, and the throbbing headache, and was snapped back into reality by someone nudging your boot- in all fairness you knew it was innocent but you, with the past forty or so hours being a blur, were already high strung so with a spin on the heel you turned to face the person, fully prepared to bite their head off and tell them to watch where they were going. 

“For fucks sake man, can’t you’ fuckin-” Your words died on your tongue as you saw another one of the team members (who you weren’t technically supposed to know who they were, but twenty minutes alone in a military room full of computers and a lot of old guys with generic passwords of their wives names seemed too easy) if you remembered correctly this ones name was John or something, as was the Captains, but you made a mental note because this one had a nickname you found hilarious: Soap. A sergeant, above you nonetheless, only taller than you by two or so inches, but could throw your weight around. 

Well. If this was rock bottom then you would certainly take the chance to start crawling up, so you nod hello and once again hold out for him to take, this time (unlike the very mean Lieutant Riley) he took it. A firm grip as you spoke, introducing yourself, and then you clear your throat as you pull your hand away. He seemed nice, seeming to just read you while you began to ramble, “I’m a consult for the next assignment, from the engineering and mechanics…department or…something, sorry-um, I am looking for a Captain John Price, do you happen-”

“Oi, the Cap’n of’ic is-” 

“Oh my God.” The words just spilled from your mouth and if you had zero self-control you would've slapped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up, but you did so you then began to explain your sudden interruption as he stared at you, “I- You- your voice-I just-I, I wasn’t expect-” His eyes were wide as you went on and you gulp down your embarrassment and motion to him,  “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- You, you were saying?”

The soldier seemed to be debating if he wanted to be offended or not but he ultimately let out a laugh, “Funny, ‘er funny, bonnie. Cm’on ‘ll take ya.” 

Funny? Well, you would take funny over having another military man out for your blood, so with a small nod you follow beside him, the silence between you both seemed to be deafening until he then spoke, a small nudge to your arm (it almost sent you to the ground but you’re praying that he didn’t notice that part). 

“Gotta be nice to th’ ol’ man, got-chit?” 

You blink a few times to let the words soak in and with a sharp breath you laugh briefly, “I…he’s thirty 37? I highly doubt that’s old, well if he’s old I’m middle-aged-.” 

John gave you a look and then spoke, “Ho’ you know tha?” 

Oh, again with the information…. “Educated guess?” 

“Off what?” 

“The..” can’t say pictures, definitely can’t see you saw all of their medical files during your twenty-minute deep dive, it would be a lie to see you’ve met the man before so you just motion around vaguely, “Vibes. Mmhm, the vibes, just…I knew. From….” He was just watching you, it made your stomach turn and somehow you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, “The vibes.”

John nodded and then knocked on the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and when the door opened he looked to the Captain, “You foun’ us a witch.”

“No-” You try to correct the sergeant but he turns and begins to walk away from you, leaving you with what was going to be your death because now you have a Lieutenant who just hated your guts for no reason and now you have a sergeant who thinks you're a witch. Oh the stories you would be going home with, so you take a breath and straighten your posture, looking at the captain. 

From what you read up on Captain John Price you knew about two things: one, he got his rank for a good reason, and two: he likes smoking (his medical files said so) However, when you looked up at him and held out your hand for him to shake he looked bit too nice for your liking, he gave the impression of an older brother, someone nice, as nice as any person can be within the military- which would be a staggering change of pace from the other people you’ve met thus far, so with a shining smile and shake of the hand your introduce yourself and follow him into the office. 

“Forgive Johnny,” Price begins and motions for you to sit down in one of the not-so-comfortable-looking chairs across from his desk, “He’s…well, you see. He means well.” 

“Ah,” You fake understanding and nod as you obey and sit down, hands neatly placed in your lap and your eyes quickly scan the area around you,  “No, yeah, Sergeant MacTavish seem-” 

“Mmm?” 

Your gaze snaps back to the Captain, panic rushing your bloodstream as you realize you did it again, the third time in the past two hours. So you choose to play dumb, pulling your lips together in a line and tiling your head, praying that your doe eyes were believable (they were, just not to him, and certainly not at that moment)  “Yes, sir?” 

There seemed to be a moment of silence before Price motioned to the tablet that sat in your grasp, “Basic information you’ll need will be downloaded at 22 hundred, no need to break any laws for names.” 

A small gulp and you look down at the tablet which you had spent the last ten minutes fiddling with, the edges of the leather cover already frayed, “I see, is there-” 

“The mechanic on base was killed a few days back, which is why you were picked up early. You’ll also receive his daily tasks and his reports, work is a bit clogged so I suggest you geta jump onit..”

As much as you tried to keep your expression unfazed by the news that the person who used to have your job is now dead, the way your eyes went slightly wide was a good indicator and you cleared your throat a sound coming from you being more like a nervous laugh, “Th…The head mechanic? How many-” 

“Just you.” 

What. There had to be at least a hundred trucks in that garage and then the planes upon that, the helicopters, all on one person? You had to hold back an audible laugh as you tried to read his expression because that had to be a joke. It had to be a joke. Sure, you were the best of your trade that even the military wanted to trade you for other things to help other world militaries and yeah you were good at what you did but you…a sum of 178 vehicles? That would be a stretch, and that was only if it was basic maintenance- not war-run vehicles that were sure to have a plethora of things wrong with them. 

When you realize he was dead serious your face falls from the polite half-smile you had and into one of mild annoyance, scoffing, “You do realize I’m not a superhero right? Can’t multiply myself?”

Price seemed entertained by your snippy words returning with a stern nod and his words harsher, he knew you didn’t understand ranks or anything along that besides a very basic ‘be polite’ standpoint, after all, you essitantally worked for yourself for the majority of your life and any person who held a higher rank most like respected you so…he might as well go a bit easy on you, yet it didn’t stop his tone being bitter, “Be respectful, and I assumed so.”

Okay, you didn’t mean to be disrespectful, so that was on you You direct your gaze to your lap and let out a huff of air, “I apologize, sir. However, I am just one person there is no earthly way I can complete what I assume to be a list of daily tasks on over seven hundred vehicles within a twenty-four-hour frame, if I had a second pair then perhaps, I am fully aware of my limits and this is beyond them. I can maybe complete a third of what you expect me to do within a twenty-four-hour window, much less if you expect me to keep to a twelve-hour shift…sir.” 

A stiff silence followed by a gruff laugh, nudging a sheet of paper over to you, and by the look on his face he could tell the memory attached to it was less than pleasant, “Good communicator, they had that underlined in your file. Along with that they had your mission from Snezhihnsk. You were able to reverse engineer twenty-four foreign trucks within ten minutes, and from what the General said is true…those things were no more than scrap metal.”  

It would be a lie if you didn’t remember that day, it would be a lie if you wished you could forget it as well. Barely twenty, new to the field, new to everything- you were still in college, yet you had been picked up from your dorm and shipped to Russia, being told that you would go with these soldiers and that your own job was to take a piece of a machine they needed to be demolished. Needless to say, that mission went sideways, found some insane laboratory, and saved the inmates, or that's what you like to believe…After you fixed the trucks there was a bombing and everything else was a blur. You preferred to not think about that day, and you hope he would catch onto that. 

“Adrenaline makes the body do some pretty insane things, sir.”

“Then I suggest you find a way to get a dose of it, the list of tasks and maintenance requests are already on the tablet.” He watched you nod and move to stand up however, he preferred to end the meeting with you note being salty about everything so he chose to speak again, “How do you like the barracks, don’t mind sharin do ya?”

Your breath catches in your throat and you look to the captain, confused by the words, you had been given your own room, well more like an office, but it had a sofa bed. So you tilt your head, “Lieutenant Riley took me to a room, said that’s where I would be staying.” 

Price processed the words for a moment, “37A?”

You falter for a moment as you try and remember the room number as you move to stand facing him, “Yes, sir.” 

“I see, my mistake then,” It wasn’t, he knew what the room used to be and more importantly who it was. “Thought it was still used as office.” 

A small pause and then you nod your head, “I better go get started.” 

“Dismissed.”

; 

“And…why haven’t I seen her? I wanna see her.” Kyle questioned Johnny as he followed him as they walked to the table, nice and tucked away in the corner of the mess hall. Of course, he was the last one who heard of the new consult, and it being a female piqued his interest all the more, it was a rare day when they would see female soldiers on this base, so he was especially interested in seeing how a civilian would fit in. However, Johnny was giving him vague words like ‘she’s nice’ or ‘I like her jus’ fine’ meanwhile Simon seemed to just be staring at the door, waiting for something. 

Johnny flashes Kyle a beaming smile and sits down, looking over the tray of food which he didn’t truly find appealing but it would be alright he supposed, “An’ you will, L.T said she’ gunna join us for dinner.” 

To that news Kyle frowned even more and grabbed his cup, “Ghost met her to? How is that fair?”

“Eh!” Johnny snipped back at his buddy, “I foun’ her lookin loss as a pup, L.T was ‘er welcome, maybe if ya did ‘er job ‘stead of holin up ya woulda gotten ta’ see ‘er.” 

Kyle looked at Simon and then back to Johnny, waiting for one of them to say that was a joke and it was actually the other way around because if Simon welcomed the consult then it would be reasonable to assume they wouldn’t actually have a consult and that the person had run away, he would have. Well…no, he would’ve stayed to spite him, either way, he wouldn’t be shocked if the next morning they would have some other mechanic wandering the halls. So, after a few moments of silence and neither of them broke into laughter over the joke he let his mouth go agape, “You’re fuckin with me, Ghost was the welcome wagon. Scared shitless is what she was!” 

Among other things they were pretending didn’t happen Kyle added that he pretended to not notice Simon’s glare over to him on the remark and then sat up straight. Simon looks down at his watch and then makes a mental note that you must just be late to everything, because it was twenty after what he had told you- or rather your schedule- to be there for dinner, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to wait around. Well, either you were late for everything or you had aptly passed out as soon as he left you- yet that would go along with Johnny’s claim that he had found you standing in some obscure spot, making fun of his accent, and then following him to Price’s office. So maybe you went to sleep after that? 

Either way, he wanted to be angry with you for that, it was unprofessional and bluntly very rude, but you did loot tried when he saw you get off the carrier, and you seemed worn slick just by the way you held yourself, eyes with dark circles and your body moved with each breath. You needed rest, so a small part of him seemed to be content with that notion, if not pleased- purely because the mission needed your undivided attention and he did not have time to catch you up on briefings and help you in more ways than what he has to do. No other reason. 

Conversation seemed to die down as minutes wore on and after about fifteen more Simon had resigned to his original assumption, you had fallen asleep and so that meant he would have to go to his-your room and wake you up. So without a word being spoken to Johnny or Kyle he stands up and walks to the room, which was only about two or so minutes, and it would’ve been less if some stupid idiot of a rookie had gotten out of his way in a timely manner. So, when he did reach the room he knocked on the door, waited for a few moments, and then tried again, this time being greeted by you peeking out from behind the door and then flashing a smile up at him. 

“Lieutenant Riley! I’m sorry about dinner, I had to come back here after my meeting with the captain and I needed to change into-” Your words falter off as you open the door more and vaguely motion to the ruined pair of cargos and black teeshirt (black so no one would see the mess of stains on it),  in your hand you held a five-hour energy shot and in the other an energy drink you found within a vending machine somewhere, “This. Is…Is there something you need help with?” 

It took him a millionth of a second to realize what you were doing, and he shakes his head, “You ‘ere late.” That wasn’t enough because you just nodded and then picked up a small tote bag, filled with what he assumed to be tools judging by the sound- which raised the question of why you didn’t have toolbox but he was going to leave that be for the moment and he…for some reason, found himself speaking again, stepping aside so you can walk out of the room as he did, “Ya met Johnny.” 

With a bite of the tongue, you look up at the Lieutenant as you walk down the hallway and to the garage, tablet sprayed across your hand and the list pulled up for a refresher, so as you walk you nod, “Yessir, he seems very nice.” Simon narrowed his gaze on the ground for a moment as he thought about what you said, which did align to some degree with what he knew about Johnny but not quite right, so he looked at you, “Is that so?” 

“Oh, no, he’s…very pleasant.” You mutter out, eyes going across the hangar to spot what you assumed to be the mechanic's workbench, tucked away in a neat corner, and an assortment of tools and places for things to be placed, as well as the control panel for the garage doors, so you pick up your speed. Finishing off the remainder of the energy drink and tossing it in the trash can as you set your bag down. Staring at the list that shined up at you the cursed tablet as you ran your hands down your face, stretching the skin with a grumble. 

For the time you started at the list, you seemed to forget the Lieutenant was nearby, and when you did finally remember you spun around, leaning against the bench and crossing your arms, blinking the fatigue away from your eyes and plastering a faux smile on your lips, “Again, Lieutenant Riley, what can I do for you?’ 

“What do ya on ‘yer hands?” 

“Checkups.” You chirp, and then to his eyes narrowing from the hidden holes of the mask you go on, “Routine maintenance, plus some since the last is…dead.” 

“Mm, Rusty, poor fellow.”

A stifled laugh and then you bring your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, it wasn’t that funny it wasn’t funny at all actually and you felt like a horrible human for even chuckling, but you were exhausted and- “Rusty?” You take a deep breath to keep your laughter at bay and you gulp down, “Your mechanic's name was ‘Rusty’??” 

“It was Robert actually.” 

You did your best to stop laughing and gulp down the remainder of the giggles that threatened to interrupt your words and you cross your arms tightly over your chest again, “Mmmm, poor Robert.” 

“Quite. Well, ‘ll leave ya to it.” 

Odd man, you mentally quipped to yourself and then watched him walk off, not waiting too long before turning back to the workbench, within the next forty-eight hours you had to perform eighty-nine maintenance checkups, seven of which as ‘odd sounds’ coming from them and sixteen others who had ‘severe shell damage which affects the ability to steer’. Then you had to get working on the jets- less of your forte but you knew enough to handle yourself and then the helicopters, which again was less than you commonplace but you were able to get the job done.It was going to be a very long time. 

However, you then spent two hours figuring out where everything was, how to get the trucks there for you to work on and then how on earth this Rusty man had his files and tools organized, it was all like a hen house, everything everywhere. So, at the moment when the sun began to set you were pushing a crate across the garage, it was filled with parts, and for some reason, the idiot thought it was a good idea for it to be where all of the plane tools were when they were car parts but… You were trying to refrain from mentally scolding a dead man. 

The crate has at least two hundred pounds of metal so when you got it to the spot you wanted you slumped to the ground heaving for air and leaning your head against the wooden box, waiting for a long moment before you let yourself close your eyes for a moment, and it was truly only a moment because you opened them when you heard someone stands in front of you. With a small breath you crane your neck up to see the person, another solider, another person on the team, so you push yourself up to stand as you introduce yourself, once again, “Hi, I’m sorry, resting my eyes- can I help you S-” 

No, don’t make the same mistake again so you end up clearing your throat, the man giving you a sweet smile,  as he let your hand,  “Gaz.” 

That’s not his name, his nickname, yes so you had to bite back your urge to correct him on his own name, so with a clear of the throat you straightened your posture, “Nice to meet you, can I do anything for you?”

“No, no, just wanted to make an’ introduction.” Kyle spoke as he took a short step away and then motioned to the newly reorganized space, “Nesting?”

With a glare, you stifle a laugh and shrug your shoulders, “No. Just…if you do a job, do it to the best of your abilities, you know?” 

Kyle nods as if not believing a word you said, “Gotcha. Well, I wanted to say hi and make sure you weren’t too shaken up by Ghost.” 

It took you a moment of dumbly staring at an obscure tool as you tried to figure out who he was talking about when it clicked, you looked to the sergeant, “Liuetant Riley! Uh,” you laugh and run a hand through your hair, leaving it on the nape of your neck for a moment, “He…he’s a little scary sure, but he seems kind.” A lie through the skin of your teeth, the Lieutenant somewhat terrified you, and he did not seem kind if anything he seemed beyond condescending to everything you did thus far.

“Mmm,” Kyle seemed to not believe your words again and then patted your shoulder, “Well, goodnight, girly.” 

That triggered something, and it made you a bit sick that it did but blood ran hot for a second. You quickly bite back by saying your name, full name and everything, not leaving out the middle and making sure the last held a nice dose of venom to it, making the sergeant turn around to face you with a confused look on his expression. So you say your name again, “That’s my name, not ‘girly’ not ‘miss’, not ‘kiddo’ not ‘lass’ not ‘bonnie’ or whatever the fuck he called me, my name.” 

There was a stiff silence and you let out a huff of air, sighing, drooping your shoulders, “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- I’m tired, I…shouldn’t have snapped at you, you…you’ve been nothing but kind, I-” 

Kyle says your name to tell you to shush up, “I apologize, you have a name, I’ll be sure to use it.”

A small smile appears on your lips and you nod, “Thank you, sir.” 

“Don’t…no, don’t call me that, Gaz, call me Gaz.” 

You laugh at his return and put your hands in your pockets, “Kay, you call me by my name and I call you by yours, that sounds like a pretty fair deal to me.” With a smile still on your expression you say your goodnights and then stand still for a moment, looking down at your boots as you think, this Gaz character was actually pleasant, he seemed nice to where you wouldn’t have to lie when asked about him. 

After a few minutes you turn around and walk back to the workbench, everything as you put it, tablet turned off but leaning against an out-of-use carburetor and everything seems just so. To the sight you were content, because that meant you could get started on the mountain of tasks you had lined up, and you looked over the scene again, grabbing your gloves but faltering when you saw the flipphone that had been sitting beneath it. 

They had made such a point to take your phone, ensuring no outside contact.

So you look around the hangar again, yet, because of the time there is close to no one there, you even peek out the door into the darkness of the airfield. Yet again, nothing. 

You stare at the piece of technology for a moment and it then begins to buzz, but only twice, indicating you got a message- well not you, but the phone did.

Hesitantly you reach to grab it, flipping it open, being met with a simple message- 

Awaiting orders, prepared to receive? 

Another look around the hangar and you quickly type a response.

Yes.

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