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sometimesanalice · 1 year ago

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Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss.

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier.

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together? You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day. I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. “God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Splurge

Fashion:

A great couple of bras in black/nude (your best skin-toned shade)

Comfortable, breathable, and seamless underwear

Outerwear (Coats, jackets, blazers)

The perfect pair of jeans

An LBD that works from day to night

Comfortable, sturdy, sleek, and timeless footwear (a versatile black boot, a black heel, white sneaker, and a black flat/loafer/sandal)

A timeless and versatile crossbody or shoulder bag (a larger one for the daytime/work or school and a smaller one for nighttime/events)

One or two well-made classic jewelry item(s)

A conversation-starting item or accessory

Beauty:

Sunscreen

Any skincare/skin cosmetic products that are game-changers for you

A quality hair brush, comb, and hair towel

Your signature scent

A quality razor/hair removal product

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Reliable hair tools and sturdy nail tools

A quality hair heat protectant/scalp cleansing or conditioning spray

Makeup brushes and beauty tool cleaners

Home:

Lamps/lighting

Couch/desk chair

Everything for your bed: Bed frame, mattress/sheets/pillows, etc.

Knives

Dishwasher-safe and microwave-safe dishes & cups you love

A full-length mirror

Vacuum

Storage solutions/cedar blocks or moth balls

Quality holders for everything: Paper towels, shower storage, hooks, mailbox/key bowls

Name brand paper products/household cleaners

Electric toothbrush & Waterpik

Sound-proof headphones/Airpods

MacBook Air

Health & Wellness:

High-quality lettuce and/or sprouts

Organic frozen fruits and vegetables (if fresh is too pricey)

BPA-free canned goods

Potassium bromate & glyphosate-free grain products

Snacks free of artificial colors

Quality coffee

An at-home massage tool/heating pad

Fur products for skin/hair removal

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Quality running shoes

Anything that goes near your vulva or into the vagina: Sex toys, lube, condoms, toy cleaners, pads/tampons/menstrual cups, cleansing wipes, etc.

A yoga mat, resistance band, and a pair of small ankle weights

Spotify subscription

Books and audiobooks

Services:

Therapy

A top-tier haircut

House cleaning (even if it's only once every couple of months)

Top-tier hair removal/brow maintenance services of your choice

Best doctors, dentists, OB/GYN, and dermatologists you can get

At least one personal training/styling session in your life

Professional/Social:

Ownership of the domain for your full legal/professional name and/or business name

A CPA/bookkeeper/fiduciary financial advisor

Automation workflow/content management system software

A lawyer for contract review/LLC services

Personalized stationery/"Thank You" cards

Memorable client gifting for the holidays/milestone successes

Niche skill-based certifications (Google, AWS, Hubspot, etc.) or courses made by trusted professionals in your field

Subscriptions in world-leading and industry-authority digital publications

1K notes · View notes

jaeyunluvbot · 5 days ago

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midnight fiction

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 coworkers to lovers, strangers to lovers, coworker!wonbin x fem!reader, fluff, tiny bit of angst

word count 𝟅𝟈

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You sit at your desk, fingers moving deftly across the keyboard as you try to make a dent in the long list of tasks piled up for the day. The to-do list pinned to your monitor catches your eye, each unchecked box causing a pang of stress.

“Y/N!” Your manager’s voice breaks your focus, and you turn to see him walking toward you, his usual “I need you to do something for me” smile plastered across his face.

“Got a second? The new hire’s here—can you give him the tour? Show him the ropes?”

You smile curtly and hold back a deep sigh. “Sure. I’d be happy to.”

“I knew I could count on you!” he says, flashing you a grin before heading off.

You push back from your desk, grabbing the folder he’d dropped on your desk, and mentally preparing yourself. Usually, you love helping people, but your workload is already overwhelming, and your manager adding random tasks constantly certainly doesn’t help.

As you make your way to the lobby, you spot him—Wonbin. He stands near reception, tall and a little stiff in his crisp shirt and tie. His eyes flit around the room, a mix of curiosity and nervousness on his face. Clearly a new hire.

“Wonbin, right?” you call, forcing a friendly smile as you approach.

He turns toward you, and his face lights up. “Yeah, that’s me. You must be Y/N.”

“That’s me,” you reply, extending a hand. “Welcome to the team. I’m here to give you the grand tour.”

“Thanks,” he says, shaking your hand firmly. “I really appreciate it. Sorry to take up your time.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, but you brush it aside. “No problem. Let’s get started.”

As you lead him through the office, you point out the essentials—the break room, the conference rooms, the kitchen. “We have free coffee here, and snacks, but if you value your life, don’t touch anyone’s lunch in the fridge,” you say with a smirk.

He chuckles, his nervous energy easing a bit. “Good to know. Anything else I should know?”

“Stick with me, and you’ll survive,” you joke, surprising yourself with how easily the words come.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, flashing a grin.

By the time the tour ends, you begrudgingly admit he’s not as bad as you’d expected. He’s polite, eager to learn, and genuinely seems to care about getting things right. Still, you’re trapped under a mountain of work, and the extra time you’re spending with him feels like another item on your already endless to-do list.

“Alright,” you say as you stop near his desk. “That should cover the basics. Let me know if you have any questions. I’m just over there.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll try not to bother you too much,” he says with an earnest smile.

You give him a strained smile before heading back to your desk, already trying to refocus on your workload. But something about his tone lingers in your mind—a small, not unpleasant, but still unwelcome distraction.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Weeks later, the two of you have settled into an unspoken rhythm. Wonbin often comes to you for help, and while it cuts into your work time, you can’t bring yourself to turn him away. He’s quick to pick things up and always grateful, which softens your frustration even on the busiest days.

“Alright, for this system,” you say one afternoon, sitting beside him at his desk, “you need to make sure the codes match these formats. If not, you’ll get an error that’ll make you want to quit on the spot.”

He leans closer to your monitor, his face contorted in concentration. “Got it. Match the formats or die.”

“Exactly,” you reply with a chuckle. “Here, give it a try.”

He takes the keyboard, carefully navigating the program. “Like this?”

“Perfect. Just double-check the—”

“Y/N!” Your manager’s voice interrupts again, sharp and expectant.

You swivel in your chair, already bracing yourself for another request. “Yes?”

“The scheduling software is acting up again. Can you fix it? And after that, HR needs help with the training program revisions.”

You plaster on a polite smile, even as irritation prickles beneath your skin. “Sure thing.”

“Great. Thanks!”

As he walks away, you stare blankly at Wonbin’s monitor, overwhelmed by everything you still need to do, plus these new tasks.

“Wow,” Wonbin says softly, breaking the silence.

“What?” you ask, turning back to him.

“Do they always dump this much on you?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

You give him a tired smile. “Pretty much. I’ve got a knack for being reliable, I guess.”

“That’s not fair,” he says, frowning.

“It’s just how it is,” you reply with a shrug, masking your frustration. “Anyway, let’s finish this up so I can deal with that mess.”

Wonbin watches you for a moment, his expression pensive, before nodding and turning back to the screen. As you work together, you try to push your stress aside, but you can’t help but notice the way he looks at you—like he sees right through you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air as your team settled into a lively bar for the evening. It wasn’t your first choice for how to spend a Friday night, but you’d gone along with it—mostly out of guilt for turning down every other optional team event.

Wonbin, obviously, had found his way to your side the moment you arrived. “First office outing,” he said, holding up his drink with a sheepish smile. “Don’t let me embarrass myself too much.”

“I’ll try,” you said, grinning despite yourself.

The evening kicked off with lighthearted conversations and drinks, but it didn’t take long before someone spotted the karaoke machine in the corner. A cheer rose from the group as a few coworkers rushed to sign up for songs, dragging the less enthusiastic along with them.

“No way I’m singing,” you said, taking another sip of your drink.

“Oh, come on,” Wonbin teased, leaning closer. “You can’t let them have all the fun. Besides, it’s a team thing—bonding, right?”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You’re way too eager for someone who’s been here for like five minutes.”

He laughed. “I’m just trying to fit in. Plus, karaoke’s fun. You should try it.”

You laugh and shake your head furiously, “Singing really isn’t my thing, so no thanks.”

He drops it there and you appreciate him not pressuring you to venture too far outside of your comfort zone.

It didn’t take long for the microphone to find its way to you. Someone had signed you up—likely as a joke—and before you could protest, your coworkers were chanting your name.

“You’ve got this,” Wonbin said, nudging you toward the stage with an encouraging grin.

Reluctantly, you chug the rest of your drink, and made you way to the stage, picking the first familiar song you see, deciding it was better to just get it over with. The music started, and as you sang, you felt your nerves ease. By the end of the song, you were smiling, met with loud applause and cheers from the team.

“Not bad!�� Wonbin called out as you returned to your seat, cheeks flushed from the attention.

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help laughing.

When it was his turn, Wonbin took the stage with the same amount of energy he had at work, a lot. He picked a fast-paced, upbeat song and leaned fully into the performance, complete with exaggerated dance moves that had the entire room doubling over with laughter.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched him. He looked so carefree, so genuinely happy, and it was contagious.

You’d never noticed how attractive he actually was, usually too distracted with your work and general disdain for the office environment. You brush the thought off as quickly as it had entered your mind, not needing to add a crush, however small, to your already hectic life.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The outing ended with you and Wonbin leaving together, walking side by side toward the bus station. The streets were quieter now, the buzz of the bar replaced by the soft hum of passing cars and the occasional whooshing of the wind.

“That was… surprisingly fun,” you admitted, glancing at him.

“See? Told you karaoke’s not so bad,” he said, smirking.

You chuckled, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Alright, fine. You win this one. But seriously, you were… something else up there. That dance routine?”

“I aim to entertain,” he said with mock pretentiousness, making you laugh again.

As the laughter faded, you found yourself relaxing in his presence in a way you hadn’t expected. The conversation turned quieter, more genuine, as you opened up about the stress you’d been feeling at work. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, his expression softening.

“You do way too much for that place,” he said finally. “They don’t deserve you.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “It’s just… part of the job,” you said lamely.

“Doesn’t mean it’s fair,” he said, his tone firm. “You deserve a break, Y/N. Or at least someone to help take some of the load off.”

You gave him a small smile, touched by his sincerity and care. “Thanks, Wonbin.”

He shrugged, but his eyes stayed on you, warm and steady. “Anytime.”

You turn away from him, your shoulder gently shoving against his as you resume walking towards the bust stop. Your face feels suddenly a bit warm, but you elect to blame it on the biting wind.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your surprising new after-work routine had started as a coincidence. One evening after work, you found yourself walking toward the bus station at the same time as Wonbin. The conversation was light, filled with random musings about the day and jokes about a particularly obnoxious coworker who always seemed to have something urgent five minutes before clocking out.

The next day, it happened again. Then the day after that. Before long, it became a routine.

“Okay, so tell me if I’m crazy,” Wonbin said one evening as you both trudged along the quiet sidewalk. His breath puffed in the cold air. “But does Mr. Lee always call for a meeting just to hear himself talk?”

You snorted. “Absolutely. The man loves the sound of his own voice. Did you notice he always asks questions, then interrupts when you answer?”

Wonbin’s laugh rang out, warm and genuine. “Right? It’s like, ‘Why even ask, man?’”

You shook your head, still grinning. “It’s honestly a skill. He could teach a class on how not to communicate.”

“Sign me up,” Wonbin said, mock-serious. “I need to be prepared.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, the stress of the workday melting away as you teased each other and bonded over shared grievances. It was strange, but comforting—having someone who just got you.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few weeks into your routine, the weather took a sharp turn. That day, you’d rushed out the door, forgetting your jacket in your scramble to make it on time. By the time you and Wonbin started your walk to the bus station, the cold had sunk its teeth into you.

“Are you seriously not wearing a jacket?” Wonbin asked, glancing at you as you shivered beside him.

“Forgot it at home,” you admitted, hugging yourself for warmth. “It’s fine. I’ll survive, we’re almost at the bus stop anyways.”

He frowned, stopping in his tracks. Before you could ask why, he shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“Wonbin—no, you’ll freeze!” you protested, trying to hand it back.

“Relax,” he said, waving you off. “You’ve helped me so much with work—even though you’re swamped. It’s the least I can do.”

You hesitated, looking at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll be fine. My bus is quicker, anyway.”

The jacket was warm, carrying the faint scent of his cologne. You pulled it tighter around yourself, your face heating despite the chill. “Thanks,” you mumbled.

He grinned. “Anytime. Just don’t forget it again, or I might start charging you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter. The walk continued, the silence between you now companionable. You glanced at him, his hands shoved in his pockets against the cold, and a thought you hadn’t dared to entertain before crept into your mind: maybe, just maybe, there was something more here.

It didn’t take long for your routine walks to the bus station to evolve into hanging out outside of work. At first, it was casual—a quick coffee after a long day, or splitting fries at the diner near the office. But soon, those quick moments turned into hours of talking, laughing, and getting to know each other beyond the walls of cubicles and meeting rooms.

One evening, after an especially frustrating day, the two of you sat on a bench at a small park near the bus stop. The air was crisp, and Wonbin had insisted on grabbing hot chocolate, claiming it was the ultimate stress relief. You had to admit, despite the chill, it was helping.

“So,” Wonbin said, leaning back on the bench and licking his cone thoughtfully. “Any progress on that scheduling software you were cursing under your breath all day?”

You groaned. “Don’t remind me. I feel like I aged ten years trying to fix that. Honestly, it’s just one more thing making me wonder if I should stick around here.”

Wonbin turned to you, his brows knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, not sure why you felt nervous admitting it. But with him, it was easy to be honest. “I’ve been looking at other jobs,” you said finally. “I don’t know if I want to stay at the company. It’s just… a lot. And I feel like I’m always being forced to work on something way above my paygrade, you know?”

Wonbin stayed quiet for a moment, staring down at his half-melted cone. “Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “But, selfishly, I think you should stay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

He grinned, but there was something in his tone that felt unusually sincere. “Because I’d miss you too much if you left.”

The words hung in the air, catching you off guard. He said it casually, almost like a joke, but the way his eyes lingered on yours told a different story.

You laughed nervously, trying to ease the tension you suddenly felt. “Well, that’s sweet, but I don’t think ‘keeping Wonbin company’ is a valid reason to stay in a job I hate.”

“Hey, it could be a selling point,” he said with a playful smirk. “Think about it: ‘Excellent coworker morale boost included.’”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “But I mean it. You’ve made this whole thing so much easier for me. I don’t know how I’d survive without you.”

Your heart fluttered, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the streetlights flickering in the distance. “Well, I haven’t decided anything yet,” you said, your voice quieter.

“Good,” he said, nudging your shoulder gently. “Because the office wouldn’t be the same without you. And neither would my life.”

The conversation drifted to other topics, but his words stayed with you long after you’d said goodbye for the night.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

This day had been nothing short of brutal. Deadlines were looming, the to-do list on your desk seemed to grow longer instead of shorter, and your manager had barely acknowledged all the extra work you’d been handling. By the time five o’clock rolled around, you were drained and on the verge of breaking down in tears.

As you packed up your things, Wonbin appeared by your desk, his usual bright smile in place. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head to study your expression. “You okay?”

You forced a tired smile. “Just a long day.”

He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, we’re leaving. You need a break.”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Arcade,” he said, grabbing your bag off the back of your chair and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Wonbin, I’m not exactly in the mood—”

“Exactly why we’re going,” he interrupted, a teasing grin lighting up his face. “Trust me. It’ll help.”

Reluctantly, you followed him, not having the energy to argue with him after the day you’d had.

He practically drags you out of the office, grabbing your hand to guide you, and surprisingly, he doesn’t let it go until you reach your destination.

The arcade was brightly lit and buzzing with energy, packed with kids and teens shouting excitedly over games. As you stepped inside, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Wonbin, we’re the only adults here.”

“So?” he said, unfazed, already scanning the room for a claw machine. “We’re twenty-something. That’s basically still kids, right?”

You shook your head, the stress of the day momentarily lifting. “Debatable.”

But it didn’t take long for you to get swept up in the fun. The two of you battled it out at a racing game, shot hoops side by side, and groaned dramatically when the claw machine refused to let go of the stuffed animal Wonbin had been trying to win for you.

By the time you were done, your cheeks hurt from smiling and your bad mood was a distant memory. Wonbin had even won you a cute plush from a claw machine, and when you’d tried to pay him back for the cost of how many tries it took him to win, he brushes you off, claiming it’s a way for him to thank you for helping him when he was still a new employee.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You can’t help but feel a touch of sadness at the ending of your little outing, selfishly wanting to spend more time with Wonbin, even though you knew you could use some rest too, probably more than he could.

The two of you walk side by side to the bus stop, occasionally exchanging hushed words, but mainly enjoying the quiet of the city at night.

The bus stop was quiet, the streetlights casting soft swaths of light over the sidewalk. You stood side by side, the energy of the arcade still lingering in the air between you.

“Feeling better?” Wonbin asked, his tone more gentle, almost loving now.

“Much,” you admitted. “Thanks for dragging me out. I needed that.”

He smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more serious.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice unusually quiet.

You turned to him, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

He took a deep breath, meeting your eyes. “I like you. I mean, really like you. And I know it’s probably bad timing with everything going on, but… I want to take you out. On a real date.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth blooming in your chest at his words. But just as quickly, reality set in.

“Wonbin,” you said softly, your voice tinged with regret. “You know how strict the company is about coworkers dating. I can’t… I don’t want to risk either of our jobs.”

His face fell slightly, but he nodded, his understanding clear. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel.”

You offered a small, sad smile. “I’m really glad you told me. And if things were different…”

He smiled faintly, his usual brightness dimmed but still there. “It’s okay. I get it.”

The bus arrived, and you both climbed on, sitting in your usual seats together. The ride was quiet but comfortable, his confession lingering in the air between you.

Though you hadn’t said it out loud, you couldn’t shake the realization that you liked him too. And now, you weren’t sure how to handle the growing feelings that had been set in motion.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The past few weeks had been a blur. Work piled higher than ever, and the looming deadline for the big project had consumed almost every waking moment. You’d barely had time to think, let alone spend any quality time with Wonbin. Your evenings were spent in exhaustion, collapsing into bed before you could even reply to his last message.

Despite the distance, he never complained. He still texted you every day—little updates about his life, random memes, or just simple “Don’t forget to eat!” reminders. You tried to keep up, but it wasn’t the same as seeing him in person.

You missed him. And it seemed like he missed you too.

The stress at work finally hit a breaking point one late night as you stared at your computer screen, the relentless grind taking its toll. With a deep breath, you decided enough was enough. On a whim, you updated your resume and applied to a few jobs, not really expecting much.

But to your surprise, an offer came in—one that promised better hours, a higher paycheck, and the kind of work-life balance you hadn’t experienced in years. The decision wasn’t easy, but deep down, you knew it was the right one.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Two weeks later, your resignation letter had been submitted, you were on your very last day, and your going-away party was in full swing.

The office was buzzing with energy, laughter echoing through the room as your coworkers gathered to celebrate your time at the company. For the first time in ages, you felt like you could breathe again. The weight of work stress had finally lifted, and for the first time in a long while, you felt genuinely happy.

Wonbin was there, of course, standing off to the side with his usual warm smile, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“You look happy,” he said softly when you crossed paths during the party.

“I feel happy,” you admitted. “It’s like I can finally move on from… everything.”

His smile grew a little wistful. “It suits you.”

As the party wound down and the others began to leave, you found yourself volunteering to stay behind and clean up. Wonbin joined without hesitation, the two of you working in comfortable silence as you packed away decorations and collected stray plates and cups.

The quiet was soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos of the last few months.

“So,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence. “About that date?”

Wonbin froze mid-step, blinking at you as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “What?”

You turned to him, a small, teasing smile playing on your lips. “You said you wanted to take me out, but I don’t date coworkers, remember?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and then realization dawned. His eyes widened. “Wait… you’re not my coworker anymore.”

“Exactly,” you said, your grin widening.

The joy on his face was instant, a brilliant smile spreading across his features as he closed the distance between you in a heartbeat. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed you—soft and sweet, filled with all the feelings you’d both been holding back for months.

When he pulled back, his expression was full of wonder. “You’re serious about this?”

“Very,” you said, your cheeks warm. “I thought you’d be sad to see me go though. Something about missing me too much?”

He laughed, his voice soft and full of affection. “I’ll miss you, sure. But now I can do this…” He kissed you again, slower this time, his hand gently resting on your cheek.

When he pulled away, he grinned. “So yeah, it’s a win in my book.”

You laughed, your heart lighter than it had been in months. Maybe leaving the job was the right move after all—especially if it meant stepping into something new with him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𝟅𝟈 this one was requested by my best friend so kenz if ur reading this, ur welcome pookie! i lowkey love this one, so pls make sure to leave a like and comment if u also enjoyed it.

masterlist.

#jaeyunluvbot #kpop #wonbin #park wonbin #riize x you #riize x reader #wonbin x reader #wonbin x you #coworkers to lovers #strangers to lovers

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bigification · 9 months ago

Text

Just one of the Boys

I feel so free now. Being able to go hitch hiking across the country after university is such an amazing opportunity. Some of the conversation is really weird, some of it is just plain boring, but I shouldn't be complaining though considering these people are driving me around for free. I mainly just get truckers who have been driving with nothing but the radio all day. This time was weird though. A truck full of older men picked me up while I was walking on the side of the road.

"Hop in buddy!" The man in shotgun shouts at me as they pull over.

It seems odd, but it beats walking and it might lead to some interesting conversation. As interesting as middle aged men in Texas have to say at least. I hop in the back of the truck and I'm immediately squished from the man sitting next to me and the seat in front of me. All three of the men in this truck must have been around 300 pounds each, I have no idea why they thought there would be room for another person. I can manage because I'm a relatively small person, but fuck is it not comfortable.

"Name's Tom." The man driving says in a deep southern accent. "This here is Kent." He taps the man riding shotgun. "And the fellow right next to ya is Luke."

"Denis, nice to meet you guys." I say awkwardly as they all stare at me.

"So what is a boy like you doin' in the middle of nowhere." Tom asks.

"Well I just graduated, so I figured I would travel the world before I settle down."

"Once you get a wife, they'll tie ya down like a ton a bricks. Better have your fun while ya can." Luke says and punches my shoulder as the three men erupt into laughter. I just chuckle and smile along, I have the feeling this is gonna be a long trip.

"We come out here every chance we get to fish, and it gives us a break from the family. Just a weekend fishin trip with the boys." Kent says.

"Why don't you grab a beer boy, we got plenty."

"Oh I don't really drink beer, but thanks anyway."

"Why, is it cuz your scared it'll make ya look like us." Luke says as he pats his gut.

"Grab one would ya, what's the harm." Tom insists.

I give in, I don't particularly like beer but I'll drink it if they want me to that bad. I open the cooler behind my seat and see dozens of full beer cans. It kinda shocks me given how many empty can are in the truck, they must have already drank nearly a dozen in the car ride and they have that many more. No wonder they're 300 pounds.

"You gotta girlfriend, boy?" Tom asks as I crack open my beer. The question makes me pause for a moment. I'm hesitant to tell them I have a boyfriend back home, but telling them I don't have a girlfriend technically wouldn't be a lie.

"No" I nervously respond.

"Well the girls are dumb to not want ya."

I wasn't expecting such a sweet response, but that was nice.

"Ya plenty of girls are into chubby guys like you, in sure you won't have no problem getting yourself a wife."

The comment kind of surprised me considering I'm a pretty skinny guy.

"Luke! The hell's wrong with you, that's no way to speak to a guest."

I look down and I'm shocked to see a small belly poking through my shirt. What the hell!? I had basically no fat on my body like 10 minutes ago, what happened.

"Don't listen to Luke, he's just being a dick."

Their words surprisingly comforted me. I started to remember all the partying I did in university, and all the beer I drank, it's no wonder I have a little bit of a beer belly.

"Well what have you done since university?"

The question confused me a bit considering I said I had just graduated before leaving for this trip.

"I just graduated."

"Oh, I just assumed it's been a while since you look a bit too old to be just graduatin school."

The comment confused me even more, I don't look a day older than 22. I glance at the rearview mirror and see my face in the reflection. I look.. at least 30. The more I think about it the more it makes sense though, I've been a software engineer since graduating.

"Oh ya, you had me all confused, I'm a software engineer."

"Rich guy over here, that must make you a lot of money."

"It makes enough." I try not to elaborate.

Tom cuts into the conversation. "Why don't you have another beer boy, we got plenty of time."

I might as well, I guess I can stay with them as long as they let me. I grab another beer and crack it open.

"With a pretty face like yours and a job like that, you must have a beautiful wife don't ya."

I just told them I don't have a girlfriend, but I don't know why I lied about that. Now that I think about it, I have a wife and daughter.

"And a beautiful baby back home." I say proudly.

"Well that explains the belly growin on ya. A man your age doesn't get a tank like that unless he's got a kid."

"Luke, would ya stop it with the comments about his belly, your makin him uncomfortable."

I look down at my gut again and see that it's doubled in size since I last looked at it. But then again, I have been gaining a lot of weight since the baby was born, so it makes sense. I might be needing some new clothes now that I look at it, my shirt is riding up my belly.

"It's alright." I respond. "Ever since the baby, I haven't been able to control this belly."

"We know the feelin. We all met before we got married and we were all 150. I still remember Tom hit 300 by the time his first turned 1 and we never let him hear the end of it."

"Don't listen to them Denis. Kent hit 300 before his first kid was even born, those beers really took a toll."

As they're talking, I grab another beer. I feel like I'm going through these beers like they're nothing, they taste amazing.

"Just considering yourself lucky that you didn't hit 300 pounds by the time you turned 40."

"Well I certainly am gettin there." I'm shocked as I hear a southern twang in my voice when I say that.

"Ya sure are, that shirt don't fit ya like it used to."

I look down and see that my gut is spilling out onto my lap, my shirt has ridden up nearly to my chest. It looks more like a bra at this point.

"Why don't you grab one of my fishin shirts back there, it might fit ya better."

It's slightly embarrassing, but I appreciate the offer. I grab a white shirt from behind my seat and put it on. It's surprisingly tight on me considering these guys are so much bigger than me. Honestly now that I look at them, they're not even that big, at least not that much bigger than me. Id say it's about average for a man our age to be this big. Only those millennials with their damn diets stay skinny, it's not our fault real men like their beer and steak. I kinda pause in shock that the thought ran through my mind, but I slowly felt more confident in that opinion.

"So I'm sure you've got teenagers by this age, they must be a handful."

"Oh I've got two, they really push my buttons sometimes. They're why Ive got so many grey hairs already."

"Well you must be pushing 50, just be glad you ain't got more. Luke went full grey by 40."

"With the way his wife treats him, I'm surprised he even has any hair left."

I joke, making the boys erupt into laughter. It kinda felt weird makin a joke about Luke's wife when I've never met the woman, but I met her just last week at the barbeque. She really is a handful. It felt good makin the boys laugh, I really feel like I'm fittin in good with them.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you Denis, ever since you met that wife a yours, that waistline has never been the same."

"That's right, I still remember when we met you way back, you were just a skinny young man. You must have been 140 pounds soakin wet, and now look at ya, you can't even fit into your own damn clothes."

I blush with embarrassment as I look down and see that my fly is wide open. My button must've flown right off without me noticing.

"It's all those damn beers he's been drinkin"

Luke punches my shoulder and points at the pile of empty beer cans at my feet. I didn't even realize how many I went through, and I barely feel drunk. Though it is pretty normal for big guys like me to have to drink more to get drunk, I sure as hell don't mind drinking more.

"Oh get off his ass Luke, you know damn well you drink just as much as him. And by the way Denis, we don't mind if you need to take your pants off if they get too small."

It seems strange that Tom would say that, but we've known each other for so long now so who cares. It's not gay if I still have my underwear on. I struggle to pull the skin tight jeans to my ankles and relax as my legs spread.

"Alright boys, we made it."

We pull into a long driveway with a small cabin by the water. Everyone hops out and grabs their stuff before walkin to the cabin. I sheepishly get out of the truck with my pants at my knees.

"Damn, you've really packed it on since our last fishin trip." Tom says as he slaps my gut, it looks almost like he's salivating lookin at me. "You must be the biggest in the group now."

I blush at the compliment. I fully take off my jeans and walk to the cabin. I'm shocked to see how small the cabin is. It has one room with a kitchen and living room on one side and two small beds on the other.

"Where's everyone gon' sleep?"

"Those two beds right there. Luke and Kent can share that bed, you'll be with me boy."

He pushes me into the bed.

"I'm gonna have fun fattening you up like the pig you are."

I look over to the other bed and see that Luke and Kent are already makin out.

"Hey, eyes on me fat boy. Consider this your initiation as one of the boys."

Tom pins me under his weight and starts kissin me. I'm certainly not gay, but Tom is a handsome fella so I certainly won't mind. Oh and the ways he touches me, my wife could never. It's like the devil is tempting me, I'll just have to confess when I go to church next sunday. But then I'll do it all again next fishin trip with the boys.

#male tf #fat tf #male wg #reality change #age progression #masculine

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salternateunreality2 · 7 months ago

Note

Kunsel says:

We should maybe have a stricter definition of what counts as "hacking", okay?

It was a slow day at work, and he decided to guess people's email passwords in 10 attempts.

How does it go?

YESSSSSSSSS

Pro tips: make your password long, that is the most important factor. Use a password manager, most of them have a free option. Adding complexity does help, but focus on length first. Size does matter here. Multi-factor authentication (MFA) also helps a lot.

---------

Kunsel: Zack, gimme your password!

Zack: ...

Kunsel: Come on man, I need it for something!

Zack: 😭😭😭 buddy I would, but I forgot it again 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Kunsel: Ok man, it's ok, let's look around your desk...here, under this pile of chip bags, I think i saw...yeah, here's the penguin toy...and yep, Password Penguin has "Zack'ss00p3rp4ssw0rd!" written on the bottom. Let's try it!

(it works)

Zack: THANK YOU KUNSEL I THOUGHT I'D LOST HIM AND I COULDN'T REMEMBER AND-

Kunsel: *wheeze* Zack let go, I need to breathe *wheeze*

-----------

Kunsel tries to guess Roche's by typing it in.

M0t0rcycle!

ShinyDancer

Sh1n33D4nc3r!

He's in.

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

Kunsel tries to guess Sephiroth's. On the 9th try, he gets it: Seph+Jenova4ever

Horrible things are uncovered along the way and now he needs to send Sephiroth some information very discreetly.

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

Lazard. Kunsel knows better. He gives a few guesses, but decides to actually hack this.

He sets up a hash capturing tool over the internal network and waits for Lazard to log on. He does. Kunsel captures the hash and starts cracking it.

Three days later, the hash cracker has not worked and he has to give up on that.

Kunsel: Sir, I need to get into your email, will you please send me your password?

Lazard: Of course not, that is unsafe and against company policy. However, you're welcome to come to my office to perform any actions we both deem necessary.

Kunsel goes over and Lazard is using multifactor authentication, so just having the hash cracked wouldn't have worked anyway. He sets up a keylogger surreptitiously on Lazard's workstation while "performing updates" and showing Lazard new features in his email.

The things he captures with that keylogger:

* Numerous emails covering for boneheaded shit the SOLDIERs did.

* The letter "A" typed about a thousand times into a text file labeled "definitely not screams.txt".

* Moogle searches for "how to convince your employees to get therapy", "pasta recipes", "therapists near me", "child psychology for adults", "play therapy for adults", "cat psychology", and "shrimp pasta recipes".

* The password: &oh'ihiy_-8_gi"it"gi_ipkb0(-ur#3-@--LXS4ever--9(9;0(!08(098+pihjboigig(@ukopih

Then it is a simple matter of finding a zero-day race condition hack in the MFA software, timing things just right, and entering the password and hacked MFA key at the perfect moment.

Kunsel of course has pity on the man after seeing even more emails such as...

* Explaining to Roche that doing squats over his motorcycle makes it look like he's humping it, and it is making people uncomfortable.

* Asking Genesis to please not actually firaga the recruits this week, they don't need a lawsuit. No, it's not character building. No, even though it was part of his home training and Shinra sanctioned training a few years ago.

* Inviting Sephiroth over for shrimp pasta to discuss strategy.

* Asking Angeal to seek therapy so the others will follow his lead.

* Telling Zack that he could not have a therapy flamingo in the office. Even if it was a lawn ornament.

* Warning Hojo not to take Sephiroth this week.

* Warning Hollander not to take Genesis and Angeal this week.

* Reaming Heidegger out very politely for all his BS.

Kunsel logs out without doing anything. Lazard needs a break.

--------

Kunsel calls Angeal pretending to be the help desk. Angeal, a bit embarrassed over his upbringing and unsure because he feels unused to technology, eventually gives Kunsel the password: BanoraBoys123!

----------

Genesis' is guessed on the 7th try because Kunsel didn't want to bother typing in an entire stanza of Loveless with numbers instead of vowels.

1nf1n1t3_1n_myst3ry_1s_th3_g1ft_0f_th3_g0dd3ss__w3_s33k_1t_th7s_4nd_t4k3_t0_th3_sky_r1ppl3s...

He sends an email from Genesis inviting everyone to a Loveless recital on Tuesday. It backfires because several people, including Genesis, show up and have a great time.

-----------

Kunsel tries Zack's little trooper friend next. He's a tough nut to crack. He won't pick up his PHS to get vished, won't click on Kunsel's phishing emails, and won't tell Zack or Kunsel his password.

Kunsel captures his hash and cracks it. It takes a full 24 hours, but he gets it in the end:

!1986fuck_this_shit

#ff7 #sephiroth #zack fair #cloud strife #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #lazard deusericus #die hojo die #kunsel #hackerman kunsel

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violetstormms · 1 year ago

Text

FNAF Sun/Moon x Reader MerMay Fics

MerMay DCA x yn fic list

With Mermay coming to a close I decide to make a list of all the fun fish filled fics I have found so far. Remember to look at the tags and read at your own discretion.

Call of the Abyss by Buligete

archiveofourown.org/works/41191230/chapters/103261704

It was probably all very silly, considering the precarious situation I found myself in, but it really was all I could think about.

Could you really blame me? I never expected to find myself in this kind of a mess. I was not some big shot, thrill seeking space explorer. I was no seasoned freight worker. No avid alien world survivalist. Not even a simple cruise liner flight attendant.

I was a gardener. My feet belonged firmly planted in the soil of a garden world. I had spent my entire life up to now solidly anchored on Earth, and never dreaming of leaving the safety of gravity and atmosphere, despite the increasingly uncomfortable quality of life on the crowded homeworld. Sure, I dreamed of greener pastures. Of fresh air and fertile land. But frontier life and adventures in the big expanse of space? Not quite.

---

A FNAF x Subnautica crossover, about the challenges of survival, surprise friendships with quirky software and alien merfolk, man made horrors beyond our comprehension and unexpected mysteries to be uncovered within the depths.

Below The Surface by Justaduck6432

archiveofourown.org/works/46186750/chapters/116275786#workskin

You aren't what people would call friendly. No. You're not even polite. Much like the salty old sailor who raised you, you're short-tempered and not too social. And that's how you like it.

One day, a dirty-rotten fish steals something important to you. You know better than to tangle with a creature so large and dangerous. But you have little to lose and, by the gods, you're not about to let that smug fish keep what's yours.

Dive into this chaotic tale of merciless mers and our hot-headed protag who has to wrangle them!

Growing Pains by Celticwolfie

archiveofourown.org/works/46891666/chapters/118117984

It was going to be a normal fishing trip. Just a normal hike to the secluded river beach and maybe relax while listening to the forest waking up around you. However, that isn't how things go for you and now you managed to gain the attention of a legendary creature. Now everything seems to be turned on its head. Hopefully, you can adapt to it quickly enough and help these living legends out as their world is starting to shrink around them.

Free Space by omenofthevoid

archiveofourown.org/works/46904299/chapters/118150342

As a Leviathan, you aren't meant for the shallow water which inhibits your growth and keeps you small. You finally move to the Dead Zone, where you hope to be able to grow.

Galaxies, Lost in Ice by StarvingMe

archiveofourown.org/works/45778489/chapters/115203013

(Subnautica/Subnautica: Below Zero AU)

Sun went hunting, and he's been gone for a few days, and so it's up to Moon to drag Sun's Human Scientist Best Friend out into the ocean to find him.

(Leads into romance with aliens, no spice, that'll be a separate work that won't be necessary to enjoy this)

Abyssal Lights by PhoenixDaNeko

archiveofourown.org/works/46600771/chapters/117353191

You used to be powerful. Feared. Vicious. A man-killer. You were one of the most fearsome myths in the sea.

Then, despite everything, you were caught. Stolen from the depths of your home. Your older siblings had always cautioned against going too close to the surface. You wished you'd listened. Captured, placed into barely big enough tanks, traded between rich bastards and unethical scientists. Losing weight, power, sanity, you're beginning to give up, when a mysterious 4 armed... Person (?) comes by.

Who is this metal man, and why is he so interested in you?

My Lungs are Full of You by Xmimi89eR

archiveofourown.org/works/47111743/chapters/118694248

You didn't like the ocean.

The water felt like it would burn (and it does). Your lungs would give out sooner than others and you didn't even know how to swim!

You never asked for this trip, never asked to be here. Yet, here you are, stuck all alone and waiting for rescue that probably would never come.

Or, well, not really alone. The burning gaze of something in the water wouldn't leave you alone.

There Are Many Benefits (To Rethinking This Career Path) by moonliched

archiveofourown.org/works/47449438/chapters/119573569#workskin

Life is cushy, working on a subterranean research facility on an underexplored ocean planet. As the resident handyman, most of your work takes place underwater - lucky for you, cave diving is your passion. With the building between bi-annual research teams, and the next lot yet to arrive, you find yourself with an excess of free time. All you have to do is fulfil your weekly duties, prepare the facility for the next team of researchers, and relax. Oh, and track down the net that went missing some time ago.

And then you find it.

In a submerged cave.

Trapping a mermaid.

You really wish this wasn't your responsibility.

(Moon thinks he should have listened to Sun and stuck to hunting in warmer waters. Why does this bizarre two-tailed mermaid keep coming at him with sharp instruments?)

Song of the Sea by TheDreamerFae

archiveofourown.org/works/38958630/chapters/97435890

You always loved the tales of Mermaids, of Selkies and of Sirens, of people who lived in the ocean as a child. You remember vividly seeing merfolk, but chalked it up your imagination. But then a boating accident with your grandpa had left you scarred, and you no longer wanted any association with the sea. But life has other plans

INSPIRED BY BAMSARA’S FIC god I love Celestial Omens.

Unusual by BlueMoon_13_31

archiveofourown.org/works/47008036/chapters/118422505

Your love for the ocean has sent you all around the world. However, the beaches of your coastal home have always been your favorite. Returning to the cloudy skies along the Pacific, the last thing you expected was to run into two creatures far from their natural habitat.

The Sea Has Always Known Your Name by CleverButDevastating

archiveofourown.org/works/47410663/chapters/119469997

Everyone is so caught up in your expulsion from the ship that they don’t see the pair of dark, sinuous shapes that slip up through the water only half a dozen yards away. No one notices the flashes of vivid yellow and luminous blue, or the intelligent eyes that take in the human spectacle with inhuman curiosity.

No one except you.

Clownfishing by Sujithe2DWaifu

archiveofourown.org/works/47314285/chapters/119220796

A night fishing trip lends itself to a chance encounter with a siren. After unknowingly showing it some kindness, your life is derailed in an extremely bizarre way.

Special thank you to Bug, who puts up with me, and Tobi(@Glambots on Tumblr)-This was originally a short story written in their ask box. While the first chapter will be short, they will get longer, just so you know what you're getting into. ;) Please also remember that I’m still learning and this is my first time posting on Ao3 specifically. I apologize in advance for any formatting issues.

Also warnings for this chapter and future chapters of thalassophobia, megalohydrothalassophobia, ososphobia, injury, body horror, animal death, offscreen minor character death, and something at bare minimum reminiscent of drugging. While these may be removed during the editing process as it currently stands these will apply at some point.

Turquoise Love by Wcat03blu

archiveofourown.org/works/47208670/chapters/118947625#workskin

You finally visit the aquarium by your college and fall absolutely head-over-heels for some celestial mermaids. Then you chill with them a lot :)

Leviathan Storms by TheDreamerFae

archiveofourown.org/works/47008924/chapters/118518967#workskin

Moving back to your old home rims has brought with you a sense of nostalgia of being. Sure most of the time it was cold and rainy but it didn’t make the scene any less beautiful. But a song keeps making itself known to you, and you must find it.

But who would’ve guessed Mers existed?

Bubbly by Robin_Green

archiveofourown.org/works/47513692/chapters/119741380

A little waterlily mer guppy is trapped, home destroyed, and taken to a pet store to be sold. After spending some time living in a fish bowl, our little guppy is saved and moved to a tank that has been dubbed the daycare by the human tending to it. The daycare tank is set up to rehabilitate fish before they are released back into their natural habitats. There our guppy meets Sun and Moon, two fish that live full time in this tank taking care their healing guests.

Sun and Moon and our guppy fall in love and then shit goes down.

Pearl Eye by NaffEclipse

archiveofourown.org/works/47400922

Movement. A mer swims overhead, speaking to someone, blocking out the starlight. The interloper lays a hand on the rim of the entrance but doesn’t look down just yet, and doesn’t see you, red-handed.

Your gut clenches with the urge to flee, your strength already spent in the fight moments earlier, and you heed the warning.

A Sleuth Jesters MerMay Fic

The Sea Jesters are Real Science by MatosaurusRex and sixty_nine13

archiveofourown.org/works/38833821/chapters/97107810

You stare into the glass. At first you see nothing, just a greenish-blue landscape, peaceful and ordinary. There is nothing special about it... Or so you think. As the seconds pass, two figures become more and more visible, slowly growing from two distant dots to two large figures, easily two metres tall. The two creatures stare at you, and you raise your hand, slapping it against the cold glass that holds the creatures trapped. These two beings, which until now had been considered to be legends, raise their hands to clasp yours as well. The most wonderful living beings in the world stand before you, separated by thick glass, suffering every day at the hands of greedy people.

How long will they resist this?

((This fic was inspired by Tumblr shenanigans and merMAY! Thank you all for inspiring us to create this <3))

And the Sea Swallowed My Screams by Burnt_Chicken_Lookin_Ass

archiveofourown.org/works/39115788/chapters/97855353#workskin

"Thalassophobia is the persistent and intense fear of deep bodies of water such as the sea, oceans, pools, lakes. [...] Thalassophobia can include fear of being in deep bodies of water, fear of the vast emptiness of the sea, of sea waves, aquatic creatures, and fear of distance from land."

You are a freelance diver. You are hired to perform difficult dives for item retrieval, research, and/or maintenance checks in less than safe underwater environments. Rule of thumb is to never dive alone; you live by that religiously. Hardly will you ever do a job without your diving partner: Iris. You have a deep seated fear of the open ocean, so if you cant see the bottom of a given body of water, then you simply wont go in.

One day, you receive a job from Fazbear inc. to retrieve the body of an employee at the request of their family. They had drowned when a company ship they worked on had spontaneously combusted and subsequently sank. The company is willing to pay big hush money to keep both the family and your retrieval team from mentioning the wreckage for some reason.

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Looking for more stories? I have a list of DCA stories sorted by type here https://www.tumblr.com/violetstormms/710457016218435584/sunmoon-fnaf-fanfic-recommendation-list (or my pinned comment if you don’t like clicking links)

Also if you have any recommendations please leave a comment, its always fun finding new fics. :)

#fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant fnaf #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #daycare attendant x reader #mermay 2023 #mermay #fnaf sunrise #fnaf moonrise #moon x reader #security breach au #Violetstormm's fic list #sun x reader

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nanowrimo · 1 year ago

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How to Find Hope for Completing Your Writing Goals

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Campfire, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a writing and worldbuilding platform to help you create an immersive experience benefitting both authors and readers. Today, Campfire Community Manager Emory Glass shares some words on having hope when writing feels overwhelming:

It has been 3,265 days since I won NaNoWriMo. I was 16 and wrote 75,000 words. It was exhilarating and cathartic and everything I ever dreamt of.

Tomorrow it will be 3,266 days since I won NaNoWriMo. I look back on my projects thinking, “2,500 words a day is lightspeed. The words flowed so freely then, so quickly.” I want to be a writer–I am a writer. It is my identity, my purpose, my reason, yet I cannot bring myself to finish what I have begun.

The next day it will have been 3,267 days since I won NaNoWriMo. The words do not fly from my fingertips but crawl, sapped of energy, the page a grave for ink stains posing as letters. I talk to my characters often. My writer friends tell me I speak of them as if they were real people, but I cannot seem to lift the weight of their stories from my mind. Still, I have no platform, no audience, no one eagerly watching for the next installment.

The day after it will have been 3,268 days since I won NaNoWriMo. Two publications, no published novels, hundreds of thousands of words gathering dust. I am no writer, I am a collector of words. There must be something wrong with me. I have so much to tell, so much to share, so much to create, but here I am not telling, not sharing, not creating.

One day it will have been 3,269 days since I won NaNoWriMo. I will not have published a book, I will not have a new story, I will not have an audience or a platform or one–just one–person looking forward to what happens next.

But I will not give up.

"...and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." (Friedrich Nietzsche)

It's rather typical for a dark fantasy writer to peer into the void, but it quickly becomes an intoxication and an excuse to never move a muscle. Do not succumb. Push forward, even if you barely move an inch. If you wish to be a builder, you build. If you wish to be a fighter, you fight. If you wish to be a writer, you write.

Brute force seems barbaric. Should words not spill onto the page? It is said that art cannot be coerced or bent to one's own will; it comes easily, naturally, swiftly. The very best art is created in a creative frenzy, so they say, and the very best artists are recognized in memoriam.

But if you delay and evade and wither your ambition as you count the days since your last success, your oeuvre halts and is buried and perishes by your own hand. So if you, like me, too often find yourself peering into the void where the words have gone to fade away, cleave to the remedy for its gaze: hope. This is the heart of creation. Laudation and lucrativeness are but two measures of success. They will not themselves burst a dam of words within you and imbue every project with Midas' touch. Creative fever is not catching–you must seek it out.

Give yourself a reason to write even when you do not want to or it feels too Herculean a task. If you seek new horizons, a useful tool, or a supportive community to accompany you on this odyssey, enlist Campfire to help. Whether it behooves you to squeeze out words on your mobile device, stay focused offline with a desktop application, or keep inspiration at hand via browser-based work and Discord chats, it's the best place to bring your stories to life.

NaNoWriMo participants can save on Campfire’s writing software! Use the discount code LETSGONANO23 for 30% off your first year of an annual subscription to our Standard Plan. It’s free to create an account. Offer expires March 31, 2024.

Emory Glass is an avid artist, worldbuilder, and author with a passion for strong female characters in leading roles and meticulous attention to detail in lore. She loves tea, learning Scottish Gaelic, continuing her work on The Chroma Books, a series of interconnected stories, and running Inkblood Book Company for similarly enthusiastic dark fantasy writers. When not chasing down stories, Emory works as the Community Manager at Campfire.

Top photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #writing process #first drafts #by nano sponsor #campfire #emory glass

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medfetabdl · 5 months ago

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Attention all medfet content creators!

This is how you protect yourself and your content on tumblr and other social media platforms

Okay so I don’t consider myself a medfet content creator because I never post any pictures of myself but I am a content creator, I post pictures and videos about my hobbies on YouTube and instagram, I just don’t tell anyone here because I keep my fetish life separate from my regular life. So I do understand the struggles content creators go through. I also consider myself to be pretty good about my cybersecurity. So I want to give the other content creators on here some tips on cybersecurity and how to protect yourself and your content.

We’ve lost a lot of people here on tumblr because of supposed stolen content. Unfortunately there’s not much you can do to protect your content on tumblr, it’s a free website that is open to the entire internet and anyone can download images and videos from tumblr with ease. The only way you can protect your content on tumblr is to put watermarks on it. The watermark should have your username and should say for tumblr only.

-If there’s content you really don’t want to get out onto the open internet, tumblr is not the place to be posting it. Safer options are onlyfans, private Instagram accounts, and fetlife. These 3 sites have no direct way of being able to download content except of course screenshots and screen recordings. Onlyfans does actually protect against screenshots and screen recordings to a certain degree, and you can have an account that is free to subscribe to. Because of that you should also be using watermarks on these sites. Unfortunately there’s no way to stop a determined person from downloading your content without permission. I won’t explain how, to prevent others from doing it, but I can download anything I want from any of those sites with just my web browser and no other tools or software. Fortunately you have to be extremely tech savvy to accomplish that. Point is that your content isn’t really safe from being downloaded and posted other places no matter where you post it unless it’s behind a paywall and even paywalls aren’t safe from screenshots. The good news is onlyfans is working on DRM (Digital rights management) in web browsers to prevent screenshots from being used to save content. Unfortunately all DRM methods aren’t enough to stop tech savvy people with enough determination from getting images, but fortunately getting videos is much more complex, but not impossible either.

-I always recommend that if you share content via Google drive, you should setup a brand new email and Google account using your username on the sites you post content to. This is for security reasons, we all know that people are crazy and will dox you and blackmail you if they get ahold of any info they can about you. Always keep your personal account separate from this account as any little traces could lead to someone finding your real identity.

-Never have your real name, first or last attached to any of your accounts in any way

-Don’t use the same password for all your accounts. I know a bunch of different passwords is hard to remember so use a password manager, Google and Apple both have them available for free

-Have 2 factor authentication active on all your accounts. I know this is also annoying but it’s the best way to protect your account if someone happens to get ahold of your password.

-Refrain from showing your face in videos and photos. There’s many ways to deal with this; Only have your body in frame, blur or black out your head in editing software, wear a mask, put something in front of your head, etc… The reason you should hide your face is because it’s almost impossible for anyone to figure out who you are without it.

-Refrain from clicking links that come into your DMs, only ever click them if you trust the person who sent it. There are apps and websites that people can use to get your public IP address just from you clicking on that link. They can then use that IP address to locate the general area of where you are so it’s best to not take any chances. VPNs (Virtual Private Networks) can prevent this because they can connect you to servers in other parts of the world and then your public IP address is from that area even though you’re not in that area. If you’re paranoid about people finding out who you are or tracking you, use a VPN whenever you are on any social media sites.

-If you buy any used medical equipment and use it in your content, remove any asset tags because those could provide information to viewers on where you are from.

-Female and LGBTQ+ content creators should take their cybersecurity a bit more seriously than male content creators as you’re at more risk of being blackmailed, doxed, or stalked.

-If you get any emails or messages from Google or the sites you post your content to saying someone tried to sign into your account and it wasn’t you, immediately change all your passwords.

-don’t trust anyone to have your real name or address. The only exception I ever make for this is if you’ve talked to this person face to face over a video call or in person.

-If you’re a bit larger of a content creator and you want to accept donations by mail, get a P.O. box at your local post office they are sometimes free or they might require a small monthly fee. This prevents you from having to put your real address out for people to send you stuff.

-Payments are always better done through a content website such as onlyfans, just for fans, fansly, gumroad, clips4sale, manyvids, etc… This ensures that you receive payment and the customer receives the content immediately. These websites usually take a cut from the payment but if you factor it into the price of the content it’s definitely worth it as it leads to less instances of you getting scammed and more instances of you and the customer feeling satisfied.

-If you find your content somewhere where you didn’t upload it, first contact the person who uploaded it letting them know exactly what site the content is on, and describe the video that was posted. Then ask them nicely to remove it. Directly going in and saying that the content was stolen and not providing much context just leads to confusion, sometimes the uploader may have been sent the video and has no idea where or who it originally came from. If after you politely explained the situation and you asked them to remove it, then you can threaten to request to have it removed. And if they still don’t remove it then you should contact the site it is on, explain that it’s your copyrighted content and ask to have it removed, they will usually get back to you and remove the content.

-Be mindful of the power you have as a content creator. Try to only post about people you don’t like if it’s about an issue that affects everyone such as pedophilia, or someone who you legitimately made you feel in danger. Unfortunately there are way too many men on here that can’t keep it in their pants. Sometimes they are legitimately creepy and sometimes it’s just a language barrier and they just don’t know how to say anything nicely or politely in the language you speak.

-If you have trouble getting someone to remove your content and it’s watermarked, it might be better just to leave it up. It’s basically free advertising. Often I find myself looking at content and if I really like it and it’s watermarked I’ll go to try to find that person on other platforms.

-Never connect your contacts to any of your social media, this almost certainly guarantees that the people in your contacts will be able to find you, which will at best lead to a very awkward conversation. If you want to be extra careful and there’s people you are worried about finding your account you should block them immediately.

-Keep records of all transactions that you’ve done for people purchasing content. This will help you later down the road if someone claims they didn’t get their content or in other situations.

-If you make more than about $1500US a year from content sales, make sure you report it to the IRS or your countries equivalent tax agency. Large purchases they see will get you into trouble. They won’t judge you for reporting it so do it. You will be embarrassed if you get audited and you have to explain to them where you got the income you didn’t report.

-Keep a local backup of all your content. Local does not mean in the cloud, you should have it on a physical device. External hard drives for your computer are a good option because they are relatively cheap and are pretty reliable. If you want to keep your content in cloud storage that’s also a good idea just make sure you have it on physical hardware as well. Losing data kills content creators businesses so having a backup of your data will save you hours of headache.

-Onlyfans, Fansly, and LoyalFans advice: If you really want to attract an audience who will continue to pay for your subscription profile on OF, LoyalFans, or Fansly make sure you chose to either charge the monthly fee and then have all content available, or don’t charge the monthly fee and you have to pay for each piece of content. You will have a lot of trouble keeping subscribers if you charge the monthly fee and you charge an additional fee to unlock each post. Statistically you will gain the most followers and keep them by only charging the monthly subscription fee and keeping it as low and consistent as possible. The more you charge for it the less people who will have the money to continue to pay for it every month. I’ve followed people on Patreon for years who have their monthly subscription at $1 because it was very easy for me to afford, where as if there’s an onlyfans account I want to follow but the subscription is above $5 I only subscribe for a month because I don’t have the money to pay that every month. One of the people I paid $1 a month for on patreon was at one point the largest creator on patreon because he specifically had the $1 subscription fee and he advertised that it was only a dollar on YouTube. At his peak he was making over $300k a year from patreon $1 subscriptions alone. Make sure that you have a few pinned posts on your page that are available for people who aren’t subscribed to see so that they know what type of content you post. There is nothing that makes subscribers more angry than seeing what type of content you post on other social media and then paying for your subscription service and then there being content that’s nothing like all the other content you’ve posted on other forms of social media. Having a taste of what you post also can be the deciding factor of whether someone will buy your subscription.

Sorry this was such a long post. Please share this with your favorite content creators as I think it will really help them out.

#medfet #ecg #heart monitor #resusfetish #resus #ekg #resus kink #ekg monitor #resuscitation #cpr #cpr resus #self resus #resus writing #resus rp #resus roleplay #resus community #gloved hands #glove kink #icu

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dollsahoy · 1 year ago

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Talking with people about reasons not to trust Sony Corporation and the young 'uns didn't know about the rootkit scandal

The Sony BMG CD copy protection scandal concerns the copy protection measures included by Sony BMG on compact discs in 2005. When inserted into a computer, the CDs installed one of two pieces of software that provided a form of digital rights management (DRM) by modifying the operating system to interfere with CD copying. Neither program could easily be uninstalled, and they created vulnerabilities that were exploited by unrelated malware. One of the programs would install and "phone home" with reports on the user's private listening habits, even if the user refused its end-user license agreement (EULA), while the other was not mentioned in the EULA at all. Both programs contained code from several pieces of copylefted free software in an apparent infringement of copyright, and configured the operating system to hide the software's existence, leading to both programs being classified as rootkits. Sony BMG initially denied that the rootkits were harmful. It then released an uninstaller for one of the programs that merely made the program's files visible while also installing additional software that could not be easily removed, collected an email address from the user and introduced further security vulnerabilities. Following public outcry, government investigations and class-action lawsuits in 2005 and 2006, Sony BMG partially addressed the scandal with consumer settlements, a recall of about 10% of the affected CDs and the suspension of CD copy-protection efforts in early 2007.

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kenovateolutions · 3 months ago

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Lead Management Software for 2024: The Top Solutions for Your Business

In 2024, businesses need to be more efficient and data-driven than ever before. A crucial aspect of this is managing leads effectively to drive sales and growth. Lead management software has become an indispensable tool for businesses looking to optimize their sales processes, nurture potential clients, and maintain a competitive edge.

What is Lead Management Software?

These tools help businesses capture, track, and manage potential customers (leads) throughout the sales funnel. They provide a systematic way of handling leads from initial contact to conversion, ensuring no opportunity is lost. With features like lead scoring, automation, and reporting, these tools help sales teams focus on high-priority leads and improve their follow-up strategies.

Why Your Business Needs a System for Managing Leads in 2024

As we step into 2024, the landscape of sales and marketing continues to evolve. Having the right tools for handling leads allows businesses to:

Automate Repetitive Tasks: By automating tasks like sending follow-up emails, scheduling appointments, and updating lead statuses, your team can focus on more critical aspects of closing deals.

Improve Lead Nurturing: Specialized tools provide personalized and timely communication, improving the chances of converting leads into customers.

Enhance Data-Driven Decisions: With built-in analytics and reporting, these systems help you understand your sales funnel’s performance and make informed decisions.

Optimize Sales Pipeline: The software helps in segmenting leads based on behavior, demographics, and other factors, allowing sales teams to prioritize and strategize effectively.

Top Lead Management Software Solutions for 2024

Here are some of the leading options you should consider in 2024:

1. HubSpot CRM

HubSpot CRM continues to be one of the most popular choices for businesses looking for comprehensive capabilities in managing leads. It offers a range of features like contact management, email tracking, lead scoring, and automation. The user-friendly interface and integration with other HubSpot tools make it ideal for businesses of all sizes.

2. Leadomatic.net

Leadomatic offers advanced lead management tools and tracking software designed to streamline your sales process. Effortlessly capture, organize, and nurture leads with automated follow-ups, insightful analytics, and customizable dashboards. Boost your team’s productivity and convert more prospects into customers with Leadomatic.net’s intuitive and powerful solution.

3. Zoho CRM

Zoho CRM is another top contender, offering a robust set of features for lead management, such as lead scoring, workflow automation, and advanced analytics. It is known for its customization options and integration capabilities with various third-party apps, making it a versatile choice for businesses.

4. Salesforce Sales Cloud

Salesforce is a powerhouse in the CRM world, and its Sales Cloud product offers powerful tools for managing leads. It includes AI-driven insights, lead scoring, pipeline management, and customizable dashboards. Salesforce’s extensive integration options make it suitable for larger enterprises looking for a scalable solution.

5. Pipedrive

Pipedrive is known for its simplicity and ease of use, making it a favorite among small to medium-sized businesses. It offers visual sales pipelines, lead scoring, and automation features that help sales teams stay organized and focused on high-priority leads.

6. Freshsales by Freshworks

Freshsales is designed to be intuitive and easy to use, offering AI-based lead scoring, visual sales pipelines, and automation capabilities. It also has an in-built phone system and email tracking, making it an all-in-one solution for sales teams.

7. Copper

Copper is specifically designed for Google Workspace users, providing seamless integration with Google apps like Gmail and Google Drive. It offers robust contact management, task automation, and reporting features, making it a great choice for teams already invested in the Google ecosystem.

8. Insightly

Insightly is known for its project management capabilities, along with its robust tools for handling leads. It combines CRM, project management, and automation, allowing teams to manage leads and ongoing projects from a single platform.

9. LeadSquared

LeadSquared offers specialized features for sectors like education, real estate, and healthcare. Its strong emphasis on automation, marketing, and sales alignment makes it a great choice for industry-specific needs.

10. Keap (formerly Infusionsoft)

Keap offers robust CRM and functionalities for managing leads, with a strong emphasis on automation. It is a great choice for small businesses looking to automate their sales and marketing processes to save time and increase efficiency.

Choosing the Right Solution for Lead Management

When choosing the right tool for handling your business’s leads, consider the following factors:

Business Size and Needs: Larger businesses may require more comprehensive solutions with scalability, while smaller businesses might prefer simpler, cost-effective options.

Integration Capabilities: Ensure the software integrates seamlessly with your existing tools and platforms.

User Experience: The software should be easy to use and navigate, minimizing the learning curve for your team.

Customization and Flexibility: Look for software that can be customized to fit your specific sales process and business requirements.

Customer Support: Reliable customer support and training resources are essential for smooth onboarding and usage.

Conclusion

Lead management software is no longer a luxury but a necessity for businesses in 2024. With numerous options available, choosing the right software depends on your business size, needs, and budget. Investing in the right lead management tool can streamline your sales process, improve lead nurturing, and ultimately drive more revenue for your business.

#leadmanagementsoftware #leadmanagementsystem #leadmanagementtools #leadtrackingfotware #crmandleadmanagement #bestcrmforleadmanagement #salesforceleadmanagement

#lead management software #lead management sysytem #lead tracking software #free lead management software #best lead management software

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trackolap · 2 years ago

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How Can TrackOlap Boost your Employer’s Brand with Efficient Time Tracking?

There is no doubt that the remote workforce model is here to stay. In fact, with the intervention of the hybrid model, remote work culture is widely expanding its roots.But unfortunately, only 40% of managers have the skills to manage a remote team. Now, that’s a big drawback for companies because remote/hybrid is the new normal workforce model.Now, no need to panic! Because TrackOlap has already developed a dedicated remote team management software for Indian companies.

Our remote workforce management software is designed to handle all the remote work challenges, such as:

● Making remote work easy and simple for employees ● Clearly setting remote work rules ● Building a transparent and responsible work environment ● Filling the remote leadership skill gaps ● Improving work-personal life balance ● Setting accountability ● Seamless communication and more Remote employee management is challenging. But having the right tool and skill by your side can make it super easy to run a successful remote workforce model in your organization.

This post will help you understand how you can build an effective remote workforce model using simple techniques and employee monitoring software.So, let’s get started.

#1. Set a Clear Remote Work Model

The very first thing that you should do to create a successful remote work model in your company actually creates one. If you don’t set rules and regulations to work in a remote environment, your employee will have no base to work.

They will have no clue what they are expected to do and whom they should report. So, foremost, you should sit down with your whole team and draft a company’s remote work policy.

For this purpose, you can use our policy management solution to map out a comprehensive remote work policy, including:

● Communicate methods and tools ● Remote working hours ● Performance evaluation standards ● Company goals ● Leave and break time, etc.

#2. Establish a Cohesive Work Culture

The way to a successful remote workforce model goes through a healthy remote work culture. You must put extra effort into strengthening a bond between your team members, despite location barriers.

A company’s work culture can make or break your business. According to a Jobvite survey, more than half of job seekers consider a good work culture before applying for a job.

But how can I create a good remote work culture in my workplace?

Simply using TrackOlap employee monitoring software. Our remote employee monitoring dashboard can help in setting positive work culture in many ways, such as:

● Marking attendance. Despite the location or time zones, your entire remote team can punch in/out attendance in real-time. This way, managers can set the same attendance and leave rules for everyone. ● Two-way communication model. Through a centralized dashboard, remote employees can easily communicate with their subordinates and seniors. ● Instant feedback. Managers can provide real-time feedback to remote workers based on accurate data-driven reports. This allows employees to self-improve and become effective team players.

#3. Adopt Flexible Work Approach

Most traditional workforce management methods fail in remote environments because they lack flexibility. To make remote work successful, flexibility is key.

Although a fixed plan is important to manage your workload, still having some room for wiggle in your remote workflow is essential. For this, you need to put some control in your remote employee's hands so they can make a few decisions on their own, like:

● Decide their own working hours ● Manage their daily schedule, etc.

But, won’t this way I’ll lose control over my remote task force?

No, you won’t because our remote employee management software is designed to give flexibility to remote workers without employers losing control.

For instance, using the website/application usage tracker, employers can check which app or website their employees have used and for how long. This knowledge will allow managers to reduce idle time and boost productivity.

Therefore, you should provide some flexibility to your remote team members but keep on monitoring them in the background using advanced employee monitoring technology.

#4. Track the Overall Progress

The remote work model doesn’t allow you to be a helicopter boss. You can’t ask for frequent updates from your employees or micromanage their schedules in a remote work model.

You simply have to give a work schedule to your employees with proper instructions and a timeline to accomplish it. And sit back!

You should only intervene when your employees ask for, or you find your team struggling to meet deadlines. To make work allocation and management simpler, we have also added a task management solution into our remote workforce management software.

This feature allows managers to assign tasks to individual team members set priorities and timelines. It will also provide real-time progress status so managers can ensure that deadlines are being met.

#5. Delegate Task Effectively

Delegating work has always been a challenge for managers. But, for remote managers, it is a mammoth challenge. Lack of physical connection makes it harder for remote team managers to delegate duties to other team members.

Most managers are worried that their team members will not take the task seriously or complete it on time. Thus, they keep on stuffing everything on their own plate, which only overwhelms them in the end.

Once again, employee monitoring software comes to the rescue. Using this solution, managers can make a person accountable for completing a task. Also, they can monitor work progress in real-time and constantly provide feedback.

So, if you are a remote team manager, ensure that your company has a proper remote management system in order.

#6. Keep Communication Clear and Concise

It is essential for remote managers to have a clear communication line with their staff members. Clear communication helps to set deadlines, solve work-related issues, convey managers’ expectations, manage company resources, define work schedules, and more.

Therefore, managers have to map out the whole remote communication policy in the company. Using the policy management software , they can draft a comprehensive communication policy, including:

● Which communication tools are the best fits in your team culture - email, texts, video chats, etc. ● What is an ideal time to reply back to a message? ● How long will a virtual team meeting be conducted?

#7. Build Connections with Your Team

One of the major disadvantages of remote work culture is isolation and depression. Many workers feel disoriented and alone while working remotely. They miss small talks with their team members during lunch break, brainstorming sessions, and get-togethers after work.

Remote work might have made employees more productive, but it has made them anti-social. So, being a remote team leader, you have to make some efforts to bring social harmony back to your team.

Here are a few things that you can try to make your remote team feel connected:

● Constant follow-ups and one-on-one interactions ● Monitor progress reports finding tell signs of low morale and depression ● Give leniency to set their own work schedule ● Provide regional local holidays ● Build transparent work culture to harness trust and harmony among your team members

#8. Reward and Recognition Program

Managers should look for opportunities to celebrate success and milestones achieved by their team members. They should make efforts to recognize the talented people present in their team. This practice will bring two benefits to your remote work culture

● First, it will boost the morale of talented people to motivate them to keep on working hard. ● Second, it might encourage low performers to buck up.

Besides this, reward and recognition help to build a strong employer brand, which is crucial to attract new talented professionals and motivate them to work for you.

#9. Revamp Your Onboarding Process

Since we are on the topic of hiring new employees, it is vital for remote teams to revamp their onboarding process.

To hire competent remote workers, you have to use the latest HR software to make the hiring process simple and easy for your team members. From onboarding to training remote employees, you need to use a comprehensive platform to hire remote employees.

There is no need to look for the best human resource software anywhere else. At TrackOlap, you will also find a powerful HRM platform to hire, manage and train remote workers.

Let’s Build a Successful Remote Work Model!

Building a remote work model is no longer an option for companies. It is a compulsion that they have to fulfill in lieu to grow in this post-pandemic era.

However, it is not that hard to build a successful remote work model—especially today, when the TrackOlap team has already prepared a complete remote employee management toolkit for you.

From employee monitoring to performance reporting, we have all the right tools ready for managers to effectively run remote team operations. So, all you have to do is book a free demo session with us today and learn how to build a successful remote workforce model.

#field executive tracking #field sales tracking software #Sales Employee Tracking software #field sales tracker #sales person tracking app #field sales crm #employee time tracker #employee time tracking #employee location tracking #Staff Location Tracking App #sales live location tracking #staff location tracking software #lead crm system #lead management crm free #software lead management #Lead automation #field force automation solution

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megsiepoo · 1 year ago

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Cult of the Lamb/Inscryption Crossover

Aka Hard-drive AU

The Lamb

The Lamb is a freelance software developer. They were hired by a mysterious organization called TOWW. They don't know anything about the organization besides the fact they pay well and they want a job done. The task? They are to investigate a floppy drive and hack into the code in order to discover any hidden secrets. It seems like an easy enough task until they discover the characters in-game are sentient and the things that are hidden on the disc might should stay that way.

Leshy

Leshy is the Scrybe of Beasts. A generally chaotic being, he likes to toy with the Lamb but mostly just wants them to play with him. He's very fond of games, however the Lamb learns that the game they are presented with is not the true game and there are other characters hidden within the cards. The Lamb beats Leshy in a game and manages to revert the game world back to its true state, revealing the other scrybes and unknowingly stepping closer to ending everything.

Heket

Heket is the Scrybe of Technology. She is a fearsome creature and is generally cruel and sarcastic, berating the Lamb as well as her fellow scrybes. Her cards are decent, not great not terrible, but the boss mechanic can present quite a challenge, especially if the Lamb has a powerful deck and is unable to defeat her before their cards change sides.

Kallamar

Kallamar is the Scrybe of Magic and is one of if not the most challenging bosses the Lamb faces. His decks are very rng based, moreso than with the other scrybes, which means it can take several attempts to defeat him and frequently leaves the Lamb frustrated anytime they have to deal with him. He's a coward and often warns the Lamb to close the game and go no further, begging them to turn back before they destroy everything.

Shamura

Shamura is the Scrybe of the Dead. A charismatic and cheerful being, they like to give riddles and have the Lamb perform puzzles in addition to the primary gameplay. They are one of the Lamb's favorite scrybes to visit, not just because they have the best cards, but they're also just very fun to be around and tend to give great advice. They can seem a bit flighty though, and while nice, they are not to be trifled with, making for an extremely challenging boss fight. They have the gift of prophecy, though the Lamb doesn't learn that till much later, and is working towards a hidden agenda that not even the other scrybes know about.

Narinder aka The Old Data

The Old Data is some code hidden deep within the game files. This is what TOWW has hired the Lamb to uncover. By converting the game back to its original format, the Lamb has made it easier for The Old Data to come through and influence the world, signs of his presence appearing in hidden corners of the map. If all of the scrybes are defeated, the game will break and The Old Data will become free, leading to disastrous consequences.

The Witnesses

This is a singular being that appears in a different form depending on which part of the map you're in, matching the scrybe that rules the area. They are a neutral being, incredibly aware of both the real world and the dangers of The Old Data, but understand how fickle the Lamb as a player is, offering warnings but not stopping them as they proceed.

Focalor

A minor npc the Lamb encounters in Shamura's domain, he was once a real world being just like the Lamb before dying and being reincarnated as an NPC within the game. While his code limits him and his abilities to interact within the game, he is still sentient. He was a developer at TOWW and originally discovered what was hidden within the game. He decided to alter the game into the format the Lamb originally sees, binding the scrybes onto playing cards and leaving Leshy in charge of things since he was the least likely to protest and cause problems. Though he didn't like Focalor's plan, he went along with it since he genuinely liked Focalor and really just likes having fun. Focalor also threatened to alter the game without getting Leshy's opinion on design and mechanics so might as well go along with it. He was sad that Focalor died but is glad that he's in the game. Shamura has a soft spot for Focalor, finding him charming albeit foolish, and Heket just likes making fun of him.

#I've been working on this for months #I'm so happy to finally have this laid out!#cult of the lamb au #cult of the lamb #cotl #inscryption #inscryption au #crossover #fan fiction #shamura #kallamar #heket #leshy #narinder #the Lamb #would genuinely love some feedback on this #I'm so stoked to get started on it!

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mentalisttraceur · 11 months ago

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One thing I'd really like to see as standard in calendar software: let me create an event that has no specific time, just a duration and maybe also earliest/latest times.

That way the event can automatically move to the first available slot as you schedule other things. Only once you're about to add or accept something that makes it impossible to fit, it bothers you about a conflict. And for example if coworkers can see your work calendar, it would still be clear your time is blocked off.

Then you could just dump all sorts of to-do items into your calendar as these free-floating unscheduled events, and have a unified place for seeing how you're budgeting your time and what time you have available.

This leads to a desire for putting priorities on events and other to-do software feature, but that's kinda my point: there is natural convergence of "calendar" and "to-do" tools, since both manage the same resources: your time, your energy, your availability and presence with people and at places, and so on.

#productivity #software

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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The urinary tract infection business-model

There were two competing visions at the dawn of the modern digital era: in one camp, you had people who saw computers as a way to empower people to push back against corporate and state control; in the other camp, there were the people who wanted to use computers to transfer power from the public to corporations or governments.

I’ve always been baffled by the technologists who pursued control over liberation: surely their own formative experiences were of the liberatory power of technology. After experiencing that power, how could these Vichy nerds lend their skills to the project of forging digital shackles?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/12/redeeming-hackers/#origin-stories

And yet, there they were, from the earliest days. Back in 2017, Redditor /u/vadermeer was browsing a Seattle thrift-shop and unearthed a trove of early internal documents from Apple’s SSAFE project, an early, doomed DRM project from 1979:

https://www.reddit.com/r/VintageApple/comments/5vjsow/found_internal_apple_memos_about_copy_protection/

The files (now hosted at the Internet Archive) are a chronicle of the battle between technologists pursuing user liberation and technologists who want to use computers to control their users. There are some great cameos from Woz:

https://archive.org/details/AppleSSAFEProject

SSAFE bombed, but the fight raged on for decades and rages on still. I’ve been in the thick of it for more than 20 years — literally. My first day on the job for EFF, back in 2002, was spent attending the inaugural meeting of the Broadcast Protection Discussion Group (BPDG), an inter-industry conspiracy to put all computers in chains, forever:

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-i-3395769891b0

The BPDG’s mission was to create a standard for a Broadcast Flag a single bit that would be included in the headers for video files. If the flag was present, any device that encountered the video would have to restrict its playback, checking to see whether and under what circumstances that playback could occur.

In order to make this work, the group — an alliance of giant corporations from consumer electronics, IT, broadcast/cable/satellite and movies — would get a friendly lawmaker (Billy Tauzin, one of the dirtiest Congressmen who ever held office) to pass a law that required anyone building a video-capable device to seek out and respond to the flag.

As part of this proposal, all video-capable devices would also need to be “resistant to end-user modification” — that is, they’d have to have enough Digital Rights Management (DRM) technology to trigger Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), which banned removing copyright locks on penalty of a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine.

Strip away all the acronyms and obfuscation and here’s what that meant: if this group got their way, every computer would only run proprietary software (no free software/open source allowed) and if you tried to reverse-engineer it to change it to do your bidding in any way, you could be sent to prison for five years.

Under this system, whatever restrictions the manufacturer imposed on the use of their computer-enabled products would be the final word. It would be a felony for a rival to make a tool that plugged into their system and let you do stuff the manufacturers blocked, even if that stuff was perfectly legal.

For example, under this system, distributing ad-blockers would be a felony. If the manufacturer designed a computer — any computer, whether or not it was used to watch video, because the standard was video-capable not video-intended — so that the browser used the operating-system’s DRM to prevent ad-blocking, bypassing it would be a crime.

At the time, we warned that giving manufacturers the power to restrict how you configured your own digital products would lead them to abuse that power — not to prevent copyright infringement, but to shift value from you to them. The temptation would be too great to resist, especially if the companies knew they could use the law to destroy any company that fixed the anti-features in their products.

Sometimes, this was dismissed as fearmongering, with company insiders insisting that they knew their colleagues to be good and honorable people who wouldn’t ever abuse this power. I expected that: no one is the villain of their own story, and we are all prone to inflated assessments of our power to resist moral hazard.

But there was another response to our activism, one that was far more telling: “Yes, we are going to take away all the features you get with your digital media and sell them back to you one click at a time. So what?”

These people were in thrall to a specific ideology: the neoliberal doctrine that markets are the most efficient way to allocate resources, and anything that isn’t a market can be improved by turning it into one.

That’s the brain-worms that leads “entrepreneurs” to flood the entire IRS switchboard with thousands of auto-dialers and then auction off the right to be bridged into a call when someone picks up:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/07/markets-in-everything/#no-th-enq

It’s the same species of brain-worms that causes “entrepreneurs” to make apps that let people vacating a public parking spot to sell off the right to park there next:

https://www.theverge.com/2014/6/23/5836232/san-francisco-is-going-after-apps-that-let-people-sell-their-public-parking-spots

It’s the same species of brain-worms that causes “entrepreneurs” to make fake bookings for every hot table at every restaurant in town and then auction off the right to dine:

https://brianmayer.com/2014/07/how-i-became-the-most-hated-person-in-san-francisco-for-a-day/

In the case of digital media, these brain-worms manifested as the certainty that we get too many rights when we buy or subscribe to digital media. The argument goes:

When you buy a book or movie or song or game, you may not want the right to sell it on the used market, or give it away, or re-read or re-watch or re-listen to it;

Because the only way to get media is to buy it outright, you might be paying more than you need to for that media;

Perhaps the seller would offer you a discount on a book you could only read once, or Christmas movie you could only watch in July;

The blunt instrument of sale means that there are lots of discount offers that never get made, so there are lots of people with less money to spend who are excluded from the market.

Put that way, it sounds reasonable, and indeed, in the margins, there have been some successes from the ability to transform an unconditional sale to a conditional license. You can “buy” a streaming movie on Youtube for $10, or “rent” it for $3; and you can pay $10/month for ad-free Spotify, $5/month for Spotify with some ads, or $0/month for ad-heavy Spotify.

But these are exceptions. Most of the pre-digital offers aren’t available at any price: you could buy a DVD and keep it forever, even if you never went back to the store again. If you “buy” a video on Prime or YouTube and then cancel your subscription and delete your account, you lose your “purchase.”

If you buy a print book, you can lend it out or give it away to a friend or a library or a school. Ebooks come with contractual prohibitions on resale, and whether an ebook can be loaned is at the mercy of publishers, and not a feature you can give up in exchange for a discount.

For brain-wormed market trufans, the digital media dream was our nightmare. It was something I called “the urinary tract infection business model.” With non-DRM media, all the value flowed in a healthy gush: you could buy a CD, rip it to your computer, use it as a ringtone or as an alarmtone, play it in any country on any day forever.

With DRM, all that value would dwindle from a steady stream to a burning, painful dribble: every feature would have a price-tag, and every time you pressed a button on your remote, a few cents would be deducted from your bank-account (“Mute feature: $0.01/minute”).

Of course, there was no market for the right to buy a book but not the right to loan that book to someone else. Instead, giving sellers the power to unilaterally confiscate the value that we would otherwise get with our purchases led them to do so, selling us less for more.

The Broadcast Flag was actually adopted by then-FCC chairman Michal Powell, so we sued him, along with our allies at Public Knowledge and the American Library Association, and kicked his ass, and the Broadcast Flag died in 2005:

https://www.eff.org/cases/ala-v-fcc

But the dream of the Broadcast Flag never died. All the streaming apps on your phone come with the same restrictions that the Broadcast Flag would have imposed on over-the-air videos.

It’s much worse on your big screen. Your cable receiver is a gigantic, energy-sucking, wallet-draining piece of shit; the average US household spends $200 on these clunky, insecure devices, and every attempt to “unlock the box” has been thwarted by Hollywood and the Copyright Office:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2016/10/newly-released-documents-show-hollywood-influenced-copyright-offices-comments-set

The UTI business-model didn’t take hold in most markets, but it’s alive and well in your cable box. That box is mandatory, and modifying it runs afoul of DMCA 1201, meaning you can go to prison for five years for helping someone unfuck their cable box.

Back when PVRs like Tivo entered the market, viewers were as excited about being able to skip ads as broadcasters and cable operators were furious about it. The industry has treated ignoring or skipping ads as a form of theft since the invention of the first TV remote control, which was condemned as a tool of piracy, since it enabled viewers to easily change the channel when ads came on.

The advent of digital TV meant that cable boxes could implement DRM, ban ad-skipping, and criminalize the act of making a cable box that restored the feature. But early cable boxes didn’t ban ad-skipping, because the cable industry knew that people would be slow to switch to digital TV if they lost this beloved feature.

Instead, the power to block ads was a sleeper agent, a Manchurian Candidate that lurked in your cable box until the cable operators decided you were sufficiently invested in their products that they could take away this feature.

This week, Sky UK started warning people who pressed the skip-ad button on their cable remotes that they would be billed an extra £5/month if they fast-forwarded past an ad. The UTI business model is back, baby — feel the burn!

https://www.examinerlive.co.uk/news/sky-warns-customers-charged-5-25644831

This was the utterly foreseeable consequence of giving vendors the power to change how their devices worked after they sold it to you, under conditions that criminalized rivals who made products to change them back.

Back in 2004, Wired published a special edition featuring reviews of new digital AV technology, almost all of which was encumbered with DRM. I had worked as a Wired reviewer on and off for years at that point, and I published a blog post taking the magazine to task for failing to note that all the features that it was praising in these devices could be taken away by the manufacturer at any time:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/12/28/bittorrent-write-up-in-wired/

Then editor-in-chief Chris Anderson defended the move, saying that DRM would encourage rightsholders to make their media available, and this was a net benefit:

https://longtail.typepad.com/the_long_tail/2004/12/is_drm_evil.html

I replied, saying this wasn’t the point: if you’re a trusted reviewer and you’re telling readers, “Buy this device because it has these three excellent features,” you have a duty to warn them that any of these features could be taken away due to factors beyond your control, leaving you without any recourse:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/12/29/cory-responds-to-wired-editor-on-drm/

This is a case I’ve made to other reviewers since, but no one’s taken me up on my suggestion that every review of every DRM-enabled device come with a bold warning that whatever you’re buying this for might be taken away at any time. In my opinion, this is a major omission on the part of otherwise excellent, trusted reviewers like Consumer Reports and Wirecutter.

Everywhere we find DRM, we find fuckery. Even if your cable box could be redesigned to stop spying on you, you’d still have to root out spyware on your TV. Companies like Vizio have crammed so much spyware into your “smart” TV that they now make more money spying on you than they do selling you the set.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/14/still-the-product/#vizio

Remember that the next time someone spouts the lazy maxim that “If you’re not paying for the product, you’re the product.” The problem with Vizio’s TVs isn’t that they’re “smart.” The problem isn’t that you’re not paying enough for them.

The problem is that it’s illegal to unfuck them, because Vizio includes the mandatory DRM that rightsholders insist on, and then hide surveillance behind its legal minefield.

The risks of DRM aren’t limited to having your bank-account drained or having your privacy invaded. DRM also lets companies decide who can fix their devices: a manufacturer that embeds processors in its replacement parts can require an unlock code before the device recognizes a new part. They can (and do) restrict the ability of independent service depots to generate these codes, meaning that manufacturers get a monopoly over who can fix your ventilator, your tractor, your phone, your wheelchair or your car.

https://doctorow.medium.com/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors-bc93f471b9c8

The technical term for these unlock codes is “VIN-locking,” and the “VIN” stands for “vehicle identification number,” the unique code etched into the chassis of every new car and, these days, burned into into its central computerized controller. Big Car invented VIN-locking.

VIN-locking is the major impediment to securing the Right to Repair. Manufacturers of all kinds bootstrap the DMCA — a Clinton-era copyright law — into a new doctrine that Jay Freeman calls “felony contempt of business model.” Removing DRM is illegal, so any business model that hides behind DRM is illegal to thwart:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-fix-cars-by-breaking-felony-contempt-of-business-model-1464231071e

With Felony Contempt of Business Model, repair is just the tip of the iceberg. When security experts conduct security audits of DRM-locked devices, they typically have to bypass the DRM to test the device.

Since bypassing this DRM exposes them to legal risks, many security experts simply avoid DRM-locked gadgets. Even if they are brave enough to delve into DRM’s dirty secrets, their general counsels often prohibit them from going public with their results.

This means that every DRM-restricted device is a potential reservoir of long-lived digital vulnerabilities that bad guys can discover and exploit over long timescales, while honest security researchers are scared off of discovering and reporting these bugs.

That’s why, when a researcher goes public with a really bad security defect that has been present for a very long time, the system in question often has DRM — and it’s why media devices are so insecure, because they all have DRM.

But these days, “media device” has ceased to be a meaningful category. As we warned Chairman Powell in 2003, soon every device would have a general purpose computer inside it, and any rule regulating “media devices” would regulate everything.

Cars are media devices. Many new cars sell with Sirius XM players built into their media centers (mine did, and I was bombarded with calls and letters from Sirius begging me to subscribe to it). These players have DRM. They also have incredibly grave security defects.

Security researcher Sam Curry and his colleagues discovered that they could hijack Sirius XM-enabled cars, armed only with the VIN number that was printed on its windscreen. Sirius’s authentication sucks and once you authenticate to an in-car Sirius-enabled app, you’re in:

https://gizmodo.com/sirius-xm-bug-honda-nissan-acura-hack-1849836987

Curry and pals were able to plunder personal information from connected cars, lock and unlock them, and execute other commands available through the cars’ telematics systems. A similar hack of Jeep cars in 2017 let attackers seize control over steering, brakes and accelleration:

https://www.wired.com/2015/07/hackers-remotely-kill-jeep-highway/

The auto industry itself admits that its products gather so much information on you — the contents of your phone, the places you go — that any breach could endanger your very life. Indeed, they made this claim to try to scare Massachusetts voters away from passing Right to Repair legislation in 2020:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

The same structural factors that make cars dumpster-fires of slapdash security are also present in your phone, and, thanks to the 2017 decision to standardize DRM in browsers, in your browser:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

This all starts with the idea that the problem with “content” is that Congress gave us, the public, too many rights under copyright, and that nickel-and-diming us to buy those rights a la carte would fix this problem. 20 years later, the benefits of this system are thin gruel indeed, and the costs keep mounting.

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A wood-paneled living room with a large flat screen TV on a stand. Before the TV sit two small boys with their arms around each others' shoulders, sitting crosslegged on the carpet in front of the set. The screen of the set displays a giant arcade machine '25¢ Push to Reject' coin-slot. Above the set, the glaring red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey oversees the scene, ringed with a burned circle.]

#pluralistic

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