#but I don’t know if my Apple Keyboard will allow me to type that without making me copy and paste it in

[blaewen]

Apple all I want is to be able to assign a language keyboard to a contact so I don’t have to go through the steps of trying to type something, my text getting fucked sideways, and then carousel through all my keyboards because I keep hoping the next one will be the right one.

Yes I know I could hold the thingy and select the keyboard I want, that is very much not the point.

I want my phone to know that I text my friends in a language and my family in another one. I love the double language keyboard that allows me to be multilingual on main without effort but I want MORE.

[anika-ann]

Words Whispered in the Dark

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 6250🙈

Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much. 

Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)

A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.

A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).

Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.

Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.

You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.

Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.

Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.

So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.

Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.

Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--

Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.

“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.

Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.

Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.

“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.

Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.

Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.

Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.

Was it?

“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.

Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.

He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.

The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.

A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.

Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.

Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.

“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.

It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.

Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.

It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.

“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.

Fuck. Shit. Okay.

“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.

You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.

“Bed. Now.”

Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.

It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.

He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.

“What is it, babygirl?”

His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.

You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”

His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.

“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.

You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.

“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.

Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.

“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.

Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.

Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him.  You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.

Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.

It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.

“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.

“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.

“Or what?”

He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.

“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.

“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.

“I don’t follow---  oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“

You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.

“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”

“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.

“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“

“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”

From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.

“Uhm… Waterloo?”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.

You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.

“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.

Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.

“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”

“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”

“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.

“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.

His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.

“You changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.

“Fuck-“

“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.

Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.

You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.

“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.

Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…

Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.

You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.

As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.

You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.

Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.

When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.

Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.

The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.

Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.

Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.

“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.

“Shit, sweetheart-“

The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.

Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.

Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.

“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.

“Christ- don’t stop--“

“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.

Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock---  if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.

So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.

“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.

You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.

“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”

“You little-“

His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.

Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.  

A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”

Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.

Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.

Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.

So fucking pretty like this.

And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.

Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.

Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.

Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.

“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.

The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.

“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.

Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.

“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.

He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.

You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.

Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly.  You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.

You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.

For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.

Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.

Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.

“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”

Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.

You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.

He was wrong.

“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.

“Babygirl—”

“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”

He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.

You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.

“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“

You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.

Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.

You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.

He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.

Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.

Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.

If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.

You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.

You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.

Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.

You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”

A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.

“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ”That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”

“W-what?”

“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”

Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.

Fuck.

You were so busted.

Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.

Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?

Right. No.

Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.

Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.

Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.

“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.

“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.

You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.

“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.

“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”

Oh fuck, here it came.

For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.

It’s only fair, no? he had said.

It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.

Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.

Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.

“Y—yes, it is.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”

And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.

He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”

His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.

Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.

“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.

“Y- yes.”

“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.

Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.

And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.

Attached masterlist

S.R. masterlist

I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.

But I hope you enjoyed anyway.  I mean, if you made it to the end…

Thank you for reading :-*

Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann

P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?

[falling-pages]

Coffee Break: Hawks x Reader

Hi lovelies, I’m back with considerably better mental health. I’m still taking writing a bit at a time, slowly, taking my time editing and researching to improve, but I’m finally able to produce content I love again. I’m finally recovering all the joy of writing and now I’m focusing on writing what makes me happy. Thank you for all the sweet messages and support, it means the world to me :)

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Quirkless Reader x Hero Hawks

Fluff

Warnings: None

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“Americano with almond milk for you, chai latte for me.”

You had been so focused on your report that you didn’t even notice the window opening and your winged boyfriend climbing through until he slid your favorite drink in front of you. The smell was heavenly, steaming through the paper cup bearing your local shop’s logo. Your fingers still against the keyboard as you reach for it, stretching out your cramped digits. After typing for hours, any sort of movement sent discomfort rattling up your hands.

“Thanks, Kei,” you say as he hovers behind you, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 

He bent to wrap his arms and wings around you, clutching you close in your chair as you cradled your coffee to your chest. The little cocoon he had suddenly made enveloped you in warmth, cutting off your view of the computer with his beautiful red plumage. All you could see, sense, and smell was him.

He ran his lips up to your temple, the shell of your ear, the spot beneath your earlobe, giving little pecks of affection while he had you under his wings. What good were those wings, anyways, if he couldn’t use them to comfort you?

“Are you nearly done, dove?” he asked, snuggling his face into your hair. “You’ve been at this for hours. Honestly I didn’t know if you were human or one of those robots the captcha quizzes ask about.”

You chuckle, leaning back against his chest. The coffee is still extremely hot, and though your tired brain begs for it, you hold off until it cools down. Keigo gets fussy when you slurp your coffee too quickly and burn yourself. “I still have miles to go before I sleep.”

“Isn’t that some poem?” he asks. “Some American poet?”

“Robert Frost.” You twist your neck to look at him. “You remembered? You’re no poet.”

“But you are. And you quote a lot of them depending on the day.”

“Because they are applicable to my situation.” You turn back and move his feathers away from your computer, making a landing space for your still piping hot drink beside it. The bright white screen welcomes you back harshly, black lines of text still existing. When his red curtain shields you from it, you have a habit of forgetting it exists. Maybe that’s the point--making you forget your worries with kisses and gifts.

You try to lean forward to type again, but his arms hold you back. “Kei, thank you for the coffee, but I have to keep reading this report.”

“You’ve read it three times already tonight!” he whines. “The thing is 50 pages. I don’t know how your eyes haven’t fallen out of your head.”

He sends a feather to lightly touch the coozie around your coffee. Both he and the feather flinch at the contact. “At least wait until your coffee cools down,” he says. “Please? For me?”

Though the man is part bird, he can pull a very convincing puppy face. It’s true, you have gotten to the point where the lines have blurred into one massive pile of digital ink. And his plush wings and warm breath on your neck are oh so inviting.

“How did you know I’ve read it three times?” you ask softly, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“Hawks are very observant creatures,” he says. “They know when their lovebirds are tired.”

You sigh, allowing yourself to give up the ghost and slump against his collarbone. As much as you wanted to keep making revisions to the report, you knew you would force yourself into another all-nighter if you didn’t stop now. You had pulled three already this week, and Keigo had grown frustrated of going to bed alone. If you stayed up again, he would likely take matters into his own hands.

Breaks increase productivity, right?

“Okay,” you relent. “But only until my coffee cools.”

He chirps happily, sending a feather to close your laptop while he scoops you into his arms. The chirps were something you had to get used to, but once he cooed in your ear in his sleep, you couldn’t help but fall in love. He had tried so hard to hide his avain traits in the beginning of your relationship, still wary of all that the Commission had instilled in him, but with you he was free to be the man-bird hybrid his spirit longed to be--chirps, feathers, and nesting included.

You snatch your cup right before he picks you up. He brings you to the couch, where he lies down on his back and settles you against his chest, making you leave your drink on the coffee table. As you lie against him, head against his heart while his lips graze the top of your crown, his wings flutter over you and wrap in to swaddle the two of you together. Abdomen warmed by his body heat, legs tangled up in his, the throaty coos in your ear, his heartbeat slowly lulling you into peace...you knew what he was trying to do.

“I can’t sleep yet, Birdie,” you whisper, drawing a pattern with your finger on his other pec. “As much as I’d like to, this is just a little break. I can come to bed tonight if I get all my reading done.”

“You work so much,” he sighed. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the top of your head. “I think you need to relax a bit.”

“Cuddling you is relaxing,” you say, and though your voice hitched as if to continue, you left the sentence there. He already knew how hard you, being quirkless, had to work to make anything of yourself. It was hard enough to get a minimum wage job without some sort of quirk, much less get into law school, where rich prep kids with genetically-perfect powers took all the top ranks. You might have graduated top of your commoner class, but even your best strategies and most cut-throat arguments couldn’t hold a candle to those born with sharp tongues and persuasive tones. The only thing that kept you going was the fact that you could represent other quirkless clients--and, in that, maybe fight the discrimination you had grown up with.

“Lovebird.”

You turn to him, yanked out of your insecurities when you hear his soft voice utter a pet name only for you. Others might be dominating your class, but none of them were dating a certain winged hero.

“I don’t know how to make you see yourself the way I see you,” he said simply, reaching a hand through your hair. “I wish you could. God, I wish you could see how perfect you are, why I adore you so much. Why it hurts to see you pushing yourself beyond your healthy limit.”

A chord struck you. You knew your hectic lifestyle wasn’t the healthiest, but it never occurred to you that it hurt him. But, looking back, you should have known all the neglected attention and lonely nights, despite being just a room away, would affect him deeply.

He had deep abandonment issues, and he was likely reliving all of that now.

Keigo took a deep breath, running his fingers down your arm. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you. I know I can be clingy, and I’ve been trying to get better, but your schooling comes first. I don’t want to take that away from you just because I’m needy.”

“Kei,” you sigh, shifting under his wings. You turned onto your stomach, forearms on either side of his face, chest pressed against chest. He lazily wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting his wings slightly so you could move. His eyes slowly scanned your face. “You don’t have to apologize. You never bother me.”

He smiled, tucking your closer beneath his wings. “Really?”

Despite his usual sass and arrogant tone in hero work, his voice is sincere, his eyes shining. The predator in him relaxes into a more docile state.

“Really.” You smooth back his hair. “Thank you for taking care of me. Now, I believe my coffee has cooled.”

You push back the curtain of plumage and reach for your drink, rolling off of him to sit by his side. As soon as you raise the cup to your lips and take that blessed first sip, you know something is wrong.

“You got me decaf.”

Your voice is hard, scaling wildly back from the soft words you had uttered against his chest. He giggles, covering his mouth with his hands, but it doesn’t hide the red mirth coloring his skin. 

“How could you!” You whine, bouncing up and away from him. 

“You need to sleep!” he says. “You have been up all night the last few days, and I need you to sleep.”

You sniffle, blinking quickly to produce fake tears. “You traitor.”

Keigo rises to hug you, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he whispers. As repulsed as you are, his hugs are too nice to refuse. “I’m only trying to take care of you.”

“I know. But next time--”

“Hmm?”

“You’re buying me regular.”

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If you enjoy what I write, please consider buying me a coffee :)

[waitimcomingtoo]

Violent Delights

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis: Tony finds out about your relationship with Peter and forces you to break up. You tell yourself what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, but it ends up hurting you 

Part Two 

Masterlist

Keeping things from your father wasn’t easy, but you’d managed to hide the fact you were dating Peter for exactly 78 days, four hours, and twelve minutes.

Kisses were exchanged in FRIDAY’s blind spots and you’d only hold hands out of sight or when you were alone. Your dad knew you and Peter were close friends, so he didn’t question the date nights, though he didn’t know they were dates, or the frequent trips to each other’s rooms. Being with Peter was amazing on its own, but keeping it a secret made it exhilarating. As much as you loved it, you knew your time as a secret couple wouldn’t last forever. The other Avengers were getting suspicious. There had been too many instances of you falling asleep on Peters shoulder during a movie or Peter mysteriously having lipstick on his lips for them not to notice. Despite their suspicions, no one said anything. 

You watched your father walking out of the kitchen one afternoon before leaning across the kitchen table and planting a kiss on Peters lips.

“What was that for?” He smiled in surprise at your sudden display of affection.

“Because I adore you.” You put the last bite of your sandwich in your mouth. “Are you ready to spar?”

“That gluten free bread really got you energized.” Peter laughed as you bounced up and down on your heels.

“You know it, baby.” You put your arms around his neck and started to lean in.

“Baby? I believe his name is Peter.” Your dads voice came from behind you and you jumped, quickly putting your arms behind your back. You spun around and you and Peter put on your most innocent smiles. Tony gave you both a quizzical look as he retrieved the cell phone he had left on the kitchen counter.

“It was an insult actually, since Peter is so feeble and weak.” You said quickly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the lame cover up.

“That’s my girl.” Tony smirked. “But “baby” is a little on the kinder side. I’d call him “fetus” if I were you.” Tony put his phone down and picked up and apple instead. He took a bite of the apple, kissed your forehead, and left the room. You let out a breath of relief and turned back to Peter.

“Fetus?” He asked sharply.

“I’m sorry! I had to think of something quick.” You apologized. “He almost caught us.”

“He almost caught you. I was just an innocent bystander. That would’ve been your fault.” He put his hands on your waist and pulled you towards him so your chests were touching.

“Do you really want to play the blame game with someone you’re about to spar with?”

“Good point. Sorry, sweetheart. It was our fault.” He smiled before pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, what do you think you’re doing?” Your fathers voice booming made you break away from his kiss immediately. Your stomach dropped and Peters face turned a hot shade of red. You jumped out of his embrace to face your father.

“Dad! What are you doing back in here?” You stammered.

“I forgot my phone.” Tony said calmly, never taking his eyes off Peter, as he picked up his phone. “Does Fetus want to explain why he was just kissing my daughter?” He cocked his head and stared daggers at Peter.

“Uhh, no?” Peter squeaked under Tony’s glare. Tony let out a short, humorless laugh and you held your breath.

“No? If I wanted to laugh right now, Parker, I’d watch Cap to try and use the DVR again. Do I look like I’m in the mood to laugh?” He looked at you for an answer to his question and you shook your head.

“No. You don’t look in the mood to laugh.” You answered.

“That’s what I thought.” Tony nodded curtly and turned back to Peter. “So, humor me. Why were you kissing my daughter?”

“Because she’s my girlfriend, sir.” Peter toughened up and looked Tony in the eye. “I was kissing my girlfriend.”

“His what?” Tony looked at you with an eerie smile that made your spin tingle.

“His girlfriend.” You repeated, trying to be brave. “Peter and I are dating, dad.”

Tony looked down at his shoes as if he was examining his feet. He nodded while keeping his head down.

“How long?” He muttered.

“Dad-“ You tried.

“How,” he snapped his head to you, “long?”

“Two months.” You said quietly.

“And 18 days.” Peter added and Tony let out a little laugh.

“But that’s it.” You promised. “Just the two months.”

“You’ve been dating Peter behind my back for two months?” Tony walked over to you and asked, unable to conceal the disappointment in his voice. You racked your brain for the least disappointing answer you could give you father.

“And 18 days.” Peter cut in again. You shot him a look and he looked down in shame. Tony whipped his head around to glare at Peter.

“Sorry.” Peter mumbled.

“Oh, you’re gonna be sorry. In fact, you better start praying I even give you a chance to be sorry.” Tony left you and stood directly in front of Peter. “I do not want to hear another word out of you, kid. You better run before I lose it.”

“Mr. Stark, if you could just let me expla-“ Peter began.

“I don’t want an explanation from you, Parker. I don’t want anything but your absence. You better run home right now and start praying I let you set foot back in this building ever again. I hope you enjoyed your two months and those precious 18 days because they’re over now. You are forbidden from dating my daughter, do you understand me? Beat it. I mean it.” Tony said through gritted teeth just to Peter so you couldn’t hear. Even with no audio, you knew it had to be bad.

“Dad, please. This is as much my fault as it is Peters. Don’t take it all out on him.” You spoke up and Tony looked at you. You could see the pain in both his and Peters eyes.

“Oh, trust me honey, I’m not. You’ll get your bit later.” Tony assured you. “Right now, I need Peter to leave this building and not look back.”

“Dad-“ You tried again.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” Peter cut you off while giving Tony an apologetic look. He picked up his backpack and swiftly walked out without a goodbye. You watched him leave and soon you and your father were alone. Tony just stood there, watching the door Peter left out of.

“I know you’re mad, but that was completely ridiculous and he-“ You broke the silence.

“Zip it, arachnophobia. You and I are gonna have a little talk in my lab. Now.” He demanded. You gulped and followed him to the lab where he closed the doors behind you.

“When we’re you gonna tell me that you and Spider-Boy were together?” He asked as soon as the doors closed. He didn’t look as angry anymore. More so on the disappointed side, which was 100 times worse.

“We were gonna tell you, I promise we were, but we didn’t know how.” You said, feeling your face heat up. You knew you were in deep trouble.

“And you couldn’t figure it out two months and 18 begrudging days?” Tony asked rhetorically.

“You know how you’ve been since we all took on Thanos. You’ve been more protective than usual, and I get that, but you haven’t been most open to me doing much of anything. You won’t even let me use the microwave anymore.” You tried to lighten the mood but he didn’t crack a smile at your attempt.

“That’s because I listened to my daughter turn to dust over an intercom five years ago.” Tony reminded you. You felt the guilt pool in your tummy. You were turned to dust while talking to your dad on the Avengers intercom, and he could never forget how it sounded. Ever since you returned, he was extra precautious about and around you.

“I’m sorry, dad.” You said weakly, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t apologize.” Tony pinched his nose bridge and tried to calm down. “This is just jarring for me, okay? I was under the impression that you and Peter were friends.”

“We were.” You insisted. “Until we became more. When we came back from the snap, we realized how short life was. He kissed me that night and I let him. Then he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes.”

Tony looked at you for a long time. It was still strange for him to be so much older when you were the same age. He took you in in the last moments before he had to break your heart. He sighed and nodded his head.

“I forbid you from dating Peter.” He said finally. You recoiled and felt your brain short circuit for a moment at your fathers words. You blinked in surprise and looked at your father in betrayed confusion.

“What?” You asked.

“I don’t approve of this relationship.” He told you with a sad shake of his head. “You’re too young and he’s too…Peter.”

“You cannot be serious.” You felt tears sting your eyes when he showed no sign of joking.

“Deadly serious, actually.” Tony quipped. “You have to break up with him or there will be consequences.”

“Like?” You folded your arms in frustration.

“Like him losing his suit and all Avengers privileges. Like you not being allowed to help with missions anymore. Like you being cut off from the Stark credit card. Need I go on?” Tony rattled off. You felt a shortness of breath at the feeling you were gonna lose this argument.

“It’s Peter Parker, dad.” You reminded him. “I thought you liked him.”

“Oh, I love Peter. But I’m not going to allow you to date a boy who will break your heart.” Tony said simply as he began to type away on a keyboard.

“He won’t break my heart!” You exclaimed, even more frustrated at him barely paying attention.

“He will. He’s a superhero, Y/n. Superhero’s are bad news.” Tony sighed, not looking up from the keyboard. “He’s gonna make promises he can’t keep and dates he won’t show up to. And when he cancels on you for the millionth time after he promised he wouldn’t because he off fighting crime, it’s gonna break your heart. Being second place to this job will break your heart.” He looked at you blankly. “Don’t believe me? Ask your mom.”

“Dad, you and I both know there is no boy in this world I could date who wouldn’t break my heart. It’s what boys do. It’s their thing.” You claimed. “And yeah, I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s a part of life. It’s how you grow. Wouldn’t you rather I get my heart broken by a boy I love that I can learn to forgive over some random jerk?”

“Honey, this world is gonna break your heart in a million different ways, ways that have nothing to do with boys, ways I can’t protect you from. But this, him, this I can protect you from. I’m sorry, but my answer is no.” He put the keyboard down and walked over to you, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. You felt the tears finally falling down your cheeks.

“But I love him.” You said weakly. Tony smiled sadly.

“So do I. But I know him. I was him. And who I I used to be is not good enough for my daughter.” He said softly.

“Then who is?” You asked bitterly, pushing his hand off your shoulder.

“What about Thor? I’m pretty sure he’s indestructible. Or Captain Marvel. I hear she’s available.” It was Tony’s turn time try and lighten the mood.

“She’s dating Valkyrie and I don’t want to be with Thor. I only ever want to be with Peter.” You said stubbornly. Your dad sighed and sat on top of a lab table.

“I thought that exact thing about dozens of different girls, girls whose names I don’t even remember, before I met your mother. Trust me, Y/n, me not allowing you to date him is what’s making him appealing to you. It’s the whole “teenage rebellion” thing. You are my teenager, and you are rebelling. If I laid back and gave you two the green light, you’d be bored with each other in a month. The sneaking around and “forbidden” romance is what’s keeping you together. If there were no obstacles in your way, you wouldn’t even look his way. I guarantee it.” He insisted but you didn’t believe it.

“You’re wrong.” You stated. “You’re wrong about all of this.”

“Actually, he’s wrong. He’s wrong for you. There is nothing I can say that will make you believe I’m right, and I know that. But honey, I am. You’re gonna thank me for this one day.” Tony said as he picked up his keyboard again.

“And what did I do until then?” You sniffled.

“Find someone else. Or even better, find no one. You don’t need boys. Boys disappoint. And I say that as a boy who has frequently disappointed.” Tony looked at you and shrugged.

“So you want me to be lonely for the rest of my life?” You snapped.

“I want you to be safe.” He put his hands on your shoulders, all playfulness in his voice gone. “And happy. Dating a superhero will make both of those things impossible. It took me nearly dying to realize that. And when I did, I destroyed my suits and started spending time with my wife and daughter. And that’s why People Magazine named me “Sexiest Man Alive.” He held up the magazine with his smiling face on it. “Look at that. Is that Captain America? Oh! Look at that. It’s me. And you see what it says right there? What my secret to a happy life is? Knowing when to walk away.” He pointed to the quote on the cover. “That’s what you need to do, honey. I know you love Peter, but you need to walk away.”

“And if I can’t?” You whispered.

“He will.” Tony said.

“He wouldn’t.” You answered.

“I’d make him.” Tony retorted. You put your face in your hands and felt your shoulders shake.

“Daddy, please!” You begged.

Tony’s eyes softened at your words. He knew only called him “daddy” when you were scared. He thought back to the last time you used that word.

“I don’t know what’s happening, dad. I think somethings wrong with me. My body feels fuzzy.” You said over the intercom. Tony touched a hand to his earpiece, knowing you couldn’t feel it but praying you could.

“Hang on, honey. It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke to his dying daughter.

“I’m scared, dad. Please come home.” Your voice wavered.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m on another planet right now. Just hang on. Don’t go anywhere.” He tried to keep you as long as possible.

“My hands…my hands are- daddy whats going on?” You asked him.

“I don’t know, baby girl. I wish I could tell you.” He said in defeat.

“I’m scared, daddy.” You sniffled as you faded away into dust.

“I’m so sorry, but this is for the best.” Tony snapped out of his daze. “He’s wrong for you. You’ll see it one day.”

“You better hope I do.” You stated before you stormed out of the lab. You stomped loudly on the way to your room and slammed the door as hard as you could so your dad would hear. You wiped the tears off your face and tried to compose yourself.

“FRIDAY, call Peter.” You said out loud.

“I’m sorry, I cannot call Peter.” FRIDAY responded.

“Why not?” You asked, slightly annoyed.

“The Baby Monitor Protocol won’t allow me to.” FRIDAY replied and you took a step back.

“The what?” You asked. “Then how am I supposed to tell him to come over?”

“Peter Parker is banned from the Avengers Compound for the weekend.” FRIDAY announced and you felt your fingers clench into a fist.

“Why?” You snapped.

“The West Side Story Protocol.”

“When did my dad have time to set up these protocols?” You wondered in frustration.

“Mr. Stark programmed them while you were talking with him in his lab.” FRIDAY informed you.

“Then I’m going to his house.” You picked you your backpack and headed to your door.

“Sorry, boss. You’re not allowed to leave the compound for the weekend. It’s called the Rapunzel Protocol.” FRIDAY said.

“Of course it is.” You huffed and set your bag down. “He’s literally locking me in a tower. What does he expect me to do all weekend if I can’t see Peter? We used to hang out every day even when we weren’t dating.“

“You have training with Bucky in five minutes to keep you occupied.” FRIDAY said as she projected a schedule on your wall.

“Then I’ll go after that.” You said.

“Then you have dinner with the team.”

“And after that?” You sensed a pattern.

“Something called “Stark Family Game Night”.”

“No way. Stark Family Game Night is co-word for the Avengers trying to lift Thor’s hammer while Thor laughs and eats banana bread. I’m not doing that again. Someone always ends up crying.” You put your foot down.

“Your father insists he wasn’t cry-“

“He was!” You snapped before flopping on your bed and letting out a groan. “This is so unfair. I finally fall in love and my dad has to ruin it. Peter and I are Avengers. He can’t keep us apart forever.”

“He can.” FRIDAY said.

“Why do you say that?” You sat up in bed and heard a small tap at your window.

“The Romeo and Juliet Protocol.”

“What does that entail?” You asked, slightly distracted by the tapping.

“That you’re kept apart on missions, never scheduled to train at the same time, never seated near each other, and I have to send an alert your father if you and Peter are alone in a room together.” FRIDAY responded.

“So that’s it? I can never be with Peter again?” You laughed bitterly, jumping slightly when another tap hit your window.

“I’m sorry, boss.” FRIDAY apologized.

“You call me boss, but I’m the one listening to you. That doesn’t seem very- God what is that tapping?” You couldn’t take the noise anymore and went over to your window to investigate. You opened your balcony doors and heard a crunch under your feet. You moved your foot and saw a small pile of pebbles on the ground. Suddenly, another small pebble flew past your head and hit your window. You looked up and saw Peter perched on the rooftop of the building across from you. He saw you on the balcony and sighed happily.

“Oh, thank God you heard the pebbles. I was about to throw a rock.” He whispered loud enough for you to hear.

“Were you throwing pebbles at my window?” You smiled shyly at the outdated romantic gesture. You never thought you’d live to see the day a boy threw rocks at your window to get your attention.

“I had to get your attention somehow.” Peter said. “Karen told me about all the protocols your dad set up. An alarm is gonna go off if I come within fifteen feet of the Avengers compound.”

“How far are you?” You asked.

“Sixteen feet.” He shrugged with a cocky smirk.

“Clever boy.” You laughed, finally smiling again after the day you’d had. “That’s why you’re my boyfriend.”

“I still am? Your father didn’t talk you out of it?” Peter asked timidly.

“Nothing could talk me out of it.” You promised, and Peter smiled fondly. “How am I supposed to get out of here though? Or are we just gonna say “parting is such sweet sorrow” and call it a night?”

“I think you’re forgetting who your boyfriend is.” Peter held up his wrist for you to see. You couldn’t even roll your eyes all the way before he shot a web and you and pulled you over to where he was. You landed in his arms and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips upon impact.

“See? Nothing can keep us apart. Not even a silly protocol.” He assured you as he moved some hair off your forehead.

“There are actually multiple silly protocols. Four and counting.” You sighed and watched curiously as Peters face fell. His eyes darkened before he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Oh.” He said quietly and loosened his grip on your waist.

“What’s wrong?” You asked at his sudden indifference.

“He really doesn’t want us to be together.” Peter said sadly and he looked up at you. You put your hands on his face but he looked away again.

“Who cares? It’s not his decision.” You tried to comfort Peter.

“What did he say about me?” Peter asked as he brought his hands up to your wrists and rubbed his thumb against them.

“This has nothing to do with you. He loves you. This is entirely because you’re a superhero.” You assured him. Peter cracked a smile and that and seemed to accept that you were telling the truth.

“I know him. He said something.” He insisted. You sighed, knowing you had no way around telling Peter the truth.

“He said you were bad news.” You admitted.

“Bad news, huh? I kinda like it.” Peter smirked. “Anything else?”

“He said you were wrong for me.” You added and Peter laughed.

“He says that I’m wrong for you?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You smiled at his improved mood.

“And here I was thinking he was a genius.” Peter kicked a rock off the roof and chuckled. “He’s all turned around. We’re meant to be.”

“I don’t know gotten into him.” You said as you took Peters hands. “He’s never forbidden me from doing anything before. I don’t know why this is so upsetting for him.”

“Was he angry?” Peter toyed with your fingers.

“Livid.” You replied.

“He’s really made up his mind about us, hasn’t he?” Peter asked, searching your eyes and hoping to receive a different answer than the one he knew he was going to get.

“Yeah.” You told him softly. To your surprise, Peter smiled and kissed the back of your hand.

“Then is this a bad time to tell you I’m in love with you?” He asked coyly, and your face lit up the New York City night sky.

“Not a bad time at all.” You said before throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him for all you were worth.

You told your dad you had broken up with Peter and reused to give him any details beyond that. You and Peter got used to the sneaking around over the next few weeks, trying to be even more discrete than before. He was allowed back at the tower but was never allowed to be alone with you. He had to wait to whisk you off your balcony after Tony thought he had left. All your nights were spent on the rooftop next to the tower with Peter before he had to go. The sneaking around was difficult, but it was romantic. Your 78 days became 100 and you and Peter had planned to celebrate on the rooftop. Just as you were getting yourself ready to see Peter, your dad knocked on your door.

“Hey, kid.” Tony said sheepishly as he entered your room. There had been an awkward rift between you and your dad since your fight. You chose to be icy towards him for what he had said that day, even if you were still seeing Peter. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and continued brushing your hair.

“Hi dad.” You said flatly.

“You look nice. Hot date?” He joked and you glared at him.

“Funny.” You deadpanned.

“Sorry. Maybe that wasn’t the best joke to make.” He scuffed the floor with his shoes and walked further into your bedroom. “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine. Just lonely.” You guilted him as you touched up your lip gloss. You heard him sigh and he came to stand behind you, looking at you through your mirror.

“I know, honey. I came in here to tell you that I’m proud of you for staying away from Peter. I know you really cared about him and that this has been hard on you, but I promise it’s for the better. If I was in your situation, I never would’ve listened to my father. I’m really proud that I raised a daughter who knows better. I’m really glad you’re my protege.” He smiled at your reflections in the mirror. You were surprised with his kind words after you’d been so cold towards him. You gave him a soft smile through the mirror.

“Thanks, dad.” You said softly.

“It may seem like it, but breaking up with Spiderling is not the end of the world. I’ve seen the end of the world, and it has nothing to do with teenage boys.” He joked, making the ice between the two of you return. He was under the impression that he had broken you up with the love of your life, yet he chose to make jokes. You shifted away from him, less than amused at his words. He noticed your indifference right away.

“Look, honey, I hate that I had to do this to you. Trust me, it hurts me too.” He said sincerely. “I love Peter and in any other world, I would’ve been proud for him to be dating my daughter. You might think breaking you guys up was cruel, but sometimes, you have to be. I know you’re hurting right now, but you staying away from Peter proved to me that you’re stronger and more capable than I thought. So, I got you a little something as an “I’m sorry I made you break up with your teenage boyfriend” gift. When you’re done sulking, check your dresser. You might find something you like.” He offered before he kissed your head and left your room. You stood in silence for a moment, contemplating your next move. Whatever he had gotten you, you didn’t deserve it. You hadn’t actually broken up with Peter.

You walked over to your dresser and found a large black jewelry box. You opened it up skeptically and found a ring inside with a pendant that looked that the arc reactor. You slid it onto your finger and a bright blue light shine from it. You picked up the card that was inside the box and recognized your fathers handwriting.

“For my hero. Press the center. -TS”

You pressed the center of the ring and your entire body was encapsulated in an iron suit. You looked in the mirror in disbelief. You finally had your own suit, something you’d been begging your father for for years. It resembled his, but was a deep violet, the same color as your bedroom walls, with honey colored accents.

His nickname for you.

You teared up at his sweet gesture before your face fell flat.

You didn’t deserve it.

He gave you the suit because you stayed away from Peter, but you hadn’t. You’d let your father down. A tap at your windowpane broke you out of your sadness. You looked out your window and saw Peter on the rooftop across the street, giving you a friendly wave. The butterflies you normally got in your tummy upon seeing Peter were replaced by a sick feeling in your gut. You gulped, knowing what was coming next. You flew over to where he was using your new suit, your heartbreaking at the joyful look on his face when he saw it.

“No way! Your dad finally gave you a suit?” Peter asked excitedly. “What made him change his mind?”

“He gave it to me for breaking up with you.” You said gravely and Peters smile faded. He wasn’t an expert on reading girls but he knew something was coming. He saw the dark clouds in your sky.

“Oh.” He said softly, gingerly touching your wrist in an attempt to make you rethink what you were about to say.

“Peter-“ You began.

“Please. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it.” Peter begged as his eyes filled with tears. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“What if it hurts me?” You asked weakly. “He was so proud of me for staying away from you. You should’ve seen his face. If he finds out that we’re still together, it’s gonna break his heart.”

“He won’t find out. We’ll find a way around it. We can-“ Peter scrambled to come up with a plan.

“Peter.” You cut him off and his lip began to tremble. “You know my dad. Sooner or later, he’s gonna find out about us. He could take away your suit or ban you from the tower forever. Aren’t we better off staying friends when it guarantees you can stay on the team and talk to me? Is it really worth it to take our chances on him finding out when we’re risking you being removed from my life permanently?” You asked, praying he would understand and see things your way. The look on Peters devastated face told this wasn’t gonna be as easy as that. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

“This is worth it to me. This is worth everything to me.” Peter shouted as if you weren’t listening to him.

“You say that now, but if he catches us, I’ll never see you again.” You warned him as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m willing to take that chance to be with you. You’re the love of my life.” Peter cried.

“And you’re mine.” You promised. “But we need to be adults about this. I can’t risk losing you forever. I have to love you enough to let you go.”

“You don’t have to let me go.” Peter said desperately.

“I do, Peter. I’m so sorry, but I do.” You whispered in a horse voice.

“Please.” He begged. “Don’t be cruel to me.”

“Sometimes”, you sniffled thought of your dad, “you have to be.”

“Not to me.” Peter shook his head. “Please, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said quickly.

“Then why are you breaking me?” Peter cried.

“My fathers says-“ You tried.

“Forget what your father says!” Peter shouted and you quieted down.

“Peter, l wish I could but I can’t disrespect him like this.” You said gently. “I love you, but I love him too. He gave me this suit because breaking up with you made him finally believe I can be on the team. He trusted me to do the right thing and I let him down.”

“You’re choosing the suit over me.” Peter said bitterly.

“I’m choosing to be obedient.” You defended yourself.

“Obedience has never gotten anybody anywhere!” Peter yelled in distress. “Romeo and Juliet weren’t obedient!”

“And they ended up dead.” You yelled back. Your eyes softened when you watched him wipe away a tear. “These violent delights have violent ends, Peter.” You said softly.

“Come on, now. You know I didn’t read the book. You know I Sparknoted it. You know I don’t know what that means.” Peter said darkly.

“It means someones gonna get hurt. We can’t just do whatever we want and not expect consequences.” You told him. “My father has been through a lot. He nearly sacrificed himself to save the world, Peter. I can do this one thing for him, even if it kills me.”

“So this is it for us?” He asked in a small voice.

“It has to be.” Your voice wavered. He nodded and rubbed his eyes for a long time.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said without meeting your eyes.

“Are we still friends?” You asked timidly and Peter let out a painful laugh.

“I don’t know if I can be your friend.” He answered honestly.

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You reached for him but he pulled away. You didn’t try again. You knew not to.

“Yeah.” He nodded and put on his mask. “I’m sorry too.”

Tag List 🏷

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[kalperun]

The Origin of Abilities in BSD and how they came to be and possible Fyodor motives explained.

(Also small talk about The Book so Spoiler warning!)

Personally, I’ve always wondered about the logistics of abilities. I wondered where they came from, are people born with it, or do they show up mysteriously one day? How do abilities interact with each other as well - especially with supernatural phenomens with abilities that are the same and why does that happen?

Just what could possibly cause that?

And then - as I was talking with @whyis-every-username-taken it hit me.

What if abilities actually came from entities?

I then realized, the more that I thought about it, that the more plausible it became - even if it changed a small detail I made on a previous theory in Fyodor’s ability.

But to show where this all began - I need to bring you all back to the only entity we actually know to exist in current canon.

Arahabaki.

The God of destruction and calamity, a being of ultimate power that the government used to test against other abilities and other worldly entities to ultimately create artificial abilities.

But - what gave the government this idea? What spurred this madness on that made the government think that could actually work and use time, money, and effort to actually obtain an entity and successfully seal it even though it had the power to end them all.

I would like to believe that the government had some sort of conclusive research first - no matter how slim - that they could indeed create artificial abilities from entities.

Which led me to this conclusion-

Abilities come from entities.

Or more specifically fragments of entities.

And the reason I say fragments is because of supernatural phenomenons - like the one caused by Gide and Oda in their last battle.

When Gide and Oda were fighting they experienced the only known supernatural phenomenon known in canon so far.

Their abilities were the EXACT same so they melded with each other, attracting to each other, their ability’s powers increasing to the point where time actually seemed to stop from them.

And I believe that these supernatural phenomenons are caused because their abilities come from the same entity. And that entity wants to become whole with its other fragment badly.

That in turn can cause a supernatural phenomenon especially since the fragments are being forced to fight each other. It’s trying to resist death but at the same time become whole - which is why Oda kept seeing multiple futures when facing Gide as well. Something that he was confused about but this could explain why that happened.

Which brings me to my next point.

Because of this - it only seems right to conclude that entities are sentient beings. They have a sense of awareness - perhaps even identity despite being limited to nothing more than a tool. And if entities are sentient and the source of abilities - then abilities are sentient.

This is best exhibited by three people - and also one event.

But first I’ll begin with the people.

Kyouka’s ability Demon Snow allows her to summon a phantom ghost. But she can’t control it.

And in canon the reason why she can’t control it is because her ability was passed down from her mom to her. It wasn’t her ability.

I would like to add more to that though.

I believe that she can’t control it because her ability has become more aware - it wasn’t restricted as it used to be by her mom, in some sort of perfect vessel. No - it had been caged but then became a little bit more free in Kyouka and had its own will. It was acting out, but once Kyouka was able to to officially become apart of the ADA she gained some semblance of control and her ability remained sentient. It could still act on its own.

That was made evident when Demon Snow made tea for Kyouka of it’s own volition which Kyouka was displeased about. But I couldn’t find the gif for that so have this instead.

Based on this Demon Snow and Elise are actually quite similar.

But Elise wasn’t a passed down ability. She was Mori’s and Mori’s alone - and yet she is actually quite sentient. It is true though that Mori can ‘configure’ Elise’s personality but she does have her own will and can be separate from Mori as her own being, yet she is still leashed to Mori.

I believe this could be explained by the fact that Mori has a larger entity fragment - an entity that is more whole yet he still has control over it.

This could also explain why Chuuya can’t control Corruption. Arahabaki more whole - and the more whole an entity is the less control you have over it, unless an entity has been passed down by blood.

And now - we come to Atsushi.

Atsushi’s situation is actually the exact same as Kyouka. His ability was out of control before Fukuzawa, making me arrive to two conclusions.

A) Atsushi’s ability was not his own and instead passed down by blood.

Or

B) Atsushi’s entity (ability) fragment was too big and he was unable to control it - like Chuuya, his ability would take control over him.

Honestly, it could be either and both options could explain why everyone is after the Tiger beetle - thinking he knows where the Book is but he doesn’t.

But remember. Entities are sentient. And therefore abilities are sentient.

So what if Atsushi didn’t know but his ability itsslf knew?

If it’s option A) his ability knows because his parent who possessed the ability originally knew where the book was.

But if it’s option B) his ability knows because its a fragment of the book - for the book is an elaborate ability - and therefore the Book is perhaps a whole entity.

And detailing off of option B) the Book itself was described as a book - whose pages were made up of parallel universes. And whatever people write in it - it calls forth that parallel universe that sort of grants your wish with a twist of karma.

And perhaps - the reason why entities became fragmented was because of the power of the Book being used.

The Book tore them apart with each universe that was written over - or perhaps - all entities (and therefore abilities actually) could have been created from the Book. Not to far fetched if you MAJOR CURRENT MANGA SPOILER AHEAD remember that Sigma was created from the Book. So why not entities/abilities as well?

If that’s the case - then the Book is a sentient object that gave life to entities which were then torn apart and in turn created abilities that were absorbed by people. So - abilities can’t be born with.

But I would like to backtrack a bit and talk about how far abilities can be sentient. I would like to bring up the event that happened in the BSD: Dead Apple movie about specific scene with Fyodor in it. A scene that I’m bringing up that changes a small detail of a theory I made a while back on what Fyodor’s powers could be.

I would like to bring up this scene:

The scene where Fyodor hotly explains how he was crime and punishment and that’s why his ability didn’t attack him under Shibusawa’s ability.

In a way - with all of this here - I think it was a way of saying that his ability and himself were actually on the same page.

What that page was - hell if I know - but if that’s the case then everyone else that had their abilities attack them, means that their entities wanted to kill them.

They probably wanted to be free.

They saw a chance - and they took it.

And maybe that’s why Fyodor sees ability users as sin.

If you were an entity - trapped and used as nothing more than a tool, restricted by someone else’s will and enslaved, wouldn’t you want to be free as well?

And maybe - just maybe - that could actually be the page that Fyodor is on with his entity fragment. The harm that ability users are doing without realizing it, ability users being masters over something that they don’t understand at all and these abilities wanting to probably return home.

Home being the Book, which could be why Fyodor is looking for it. Why his entity fragment is working with him so well - that could be why they want the book.

To get rid of the sin of ability users and free the entities back to where they actually belong.

The Book.

Oh gee, talk about keyboard smash, but I hope this makes some sort of sense because I just typed all this out in one go and that’s it. That’s all I want to do with it.

Yeah - I can see that there is some holes in this theory - especially with Lovecraft - but that’s why it’s a theory!

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed.

[cinnamonboleyn]

The Perfect Moment

Proof that I cannot write a short fic. It’s physically impossible.

In all seriousness, I dreamt this up and fell in love with the idea. I think part of the reason why it’s so long is because I loved writing this version of the characters and did not want to stop.

(which is why I may continue on with this AU...)

This is also my first time writing a ship for this fandom, I’m not sure how I did but hopefully I did Parrlyn justice.

In summary: Katherine deserves to be loved, Anne is a chaotic older cousin with a heart of gold and Catherine is just trying to wrap her head around the situation while still being her supportive self.

Please enjoy :)

TW: Homophobia, implied past abuse, implied past conversion therapy. 

Word count: 9526

It came up one lazy Saturday morning while Catherine was cuddling in bed with her favourite person in the world.

Anne had one arm around Catherine, pulling her close. Her other hand was being used to lovingly stroke her girlfriend’s curly dark hair. It was soothing and comforting enough to almost lull Catherine back to sleep.

Before that could happen, Anne dropped her hair and tapped her a few times on the shoulder. Catherine obligingly flipped over.

“Mhm? What is it, babe?”

She pulled her fingers through her messy brunette bed head. She was all the beautiful just the same.

“I want you to meet someone important to me today.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already met your parents. Do you have a secret sibling you haven’t told me about?”

“No..” She hummed, “Well, practically my sibling if you really think about it. Her name is Katherine too, only spelt with a K. Katherine Howard. She’s my cousin.”

“Oh?” The small girl dug herself into the pillows to meet Anne’s gaze, “So you two are close?”

Boleyn nodded her head. Her eyes were darting around the room nervously, which was a state Cathy rarely got to see from her.

“She’s eight years younger than us, and she’s had a rough go at it. I don’t feel it’s my place to talk about it… but she’s very sweet, and polite, and the most fun person in the world if she lets her true self show…”

“Anne.”

Catherine planted a reassuring kiss on her girlfriend’s forehead, causing Boleyn to stop her rant.

“She sounds amazing, I can’t wait to meet her.”

It was good to see Anne’s smile back on her face.

“It’s going to be a great day.” She promised.

It took them fifteen more minutes to actually get out of bed (it’s too comfy under the covers and in each other’s arms), but finally they’re up and manage to get ready.

Catherine is told to dress prepared for anything. Unphased by her girlfriend’s spontaneous way of planning things, she decides on a black cardigan under a deep blue tee tucked into black jean shorts.

Grabbing her laptop, she set herself up at the kitchen table in their flat and decided to get some work done on her book before the day ahead of them.

Typing up a storm, Cathy took occasional pauses from the clacking of the keyboard and could hear Anne talking from the other room. From the way her voice went up two octaves and how was wasn’t speaking with her usual slang, she figured the girl was on her phone.

She continued with her work. After a bit, a mug was placed down next to her laptop which made her look up.

“A splash of milk, no sugar?”

Anne grinned from above. Catherine looked from the cup of coffee to the girl now clad in a black crop top and a green skater skirt.

“I have the sweetest girlfriend in the world.” 

“Don’t mention it, Cathy.”

She continued with a smirk on her face.

“I’d make a cute waitress, wouldn’t I? Too bad I’m only on the menu for a select few.”

Anne winked. Catherine rolled her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks was apparent.

Continuing to type out her story, she was vaguely aware of her girlfriend shuffling through things in the cupboard and chopping things on a cutting board.

What she wasn’t expecting was when she finally tore herself away from her computer screen an hour later, was to find the entire kitchen counter was covered in food.

Bagels, muffins, eggs made in all of the ways you could possibly cook them.  Every single fruit in their pantry was sliced and diced just about every way imaginable.

Anne held out in apple slice that was cut into the shape of a heart.

“For you, my love.” She faked a very posh accent, drawing a laugh from Parr.

“Why thank you, dearest,” Catherine returned the silly voice, “And might I add that you’re the apple of my eye.”

Boleyn snorted, which just made Catherine laugh all the harder. Soon they were laughing continuously and as soon as someone would stop the other person would start again.

This is my life. I get to live with my amazing, wonderful girlfriend.

After they finally managed to stop bursting into laughter every three seconds, Catherine asked,

“Why did you make so much food, anyways? I thought only Katherine was coming over?”

Cathy knew her girlfriend well enough to know that if she was the one making breakfast, she perfectly content with pulling a frozen eggo from the freezer and eating it as it is. Ice and all.

This was the most effort she’d seen her put into a meal in ages.

Anne shrugged. “I want to make sure there’s something she’ll eat.”

“That’s really sweet of you, babe,” Catherine smiled, tucking a few stray locks back behind Anne’s ear. “I’m not complaining anyhow. I won’t have to make breakfast for a whole week.”

The writer went to put away her laptop. She carefully helped Anne place all of the prepared food onto the kitchen table.

“A breakfast fit for a queen.” Catherine took a step back to admire the feast in front of them.

Anne followed, lacing her hand in between her partner’s. “A breakfast fit for my queen.”

The two shared a soft kiss. Even though they’d kissed a million times before, it never lost it’s passion or warmth for either of the women.

It was the perfect moment.

They sat idly at the table, waiting for their guest to arrive. They chatted, sometimes teasing each other playfully. At one point there was a competition to see who could throw up the most grapes and catch them in their mouths (Anne won that. And she rubbed it in, of course).

Three careful knocks sounded at their flat door.

Without waiting for a moment more, Anne took her girlfriend’s hand and led her down the hall to the front of their apartment.  From the way she was holding her hand, Catherine could sense the nerves radiating from her.

To calm her, she started brushing a finger over Boleyn’s palm.

Arriving at the door, Anne took a deep breath before pulling it open.

Behind it stood two figures.

The first was a kindly looking woman with blonde hair cascading down her back in waves. She had a bright smile, one that was genuine as well as a sincere look in her brown eyes that gave Catherine an immediate sense of trust. 

The second was definitely Katherine. The girl was taller than the woman and slim, but despite this still appeared very young. From her conversation with Anne before Catherine deduced that Katherine was seventeen years old, but honestly she would’ve placed her at about fifteen if she hadn’t known any better.

Her hair was in a high ponytail, the ends having been dyed an electric pink colour. Her long face was stoic and gave away no emotion, contrasting with the other person beside her.

Really, there wasn’t much resemblance at all between Katherine and the blonde stranger. Catherine saw more of a resemblance between her and Anne, not that it was the strongest resemblance ever but it was still there.

“Kitty!”

Anne lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of her cousin. Katherine’s lips twitched upwards and her eyes crinkled slightly, but it quickly faded to be replaced by her blank stare.

“Come in, come in, both of you.” Anne opened the door wider, allowing the guests to step inside.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Katherine. My name’s Catherine too; Catherine Parr.”

The pink-haired teen gave a small wave but didn’t seem confident enough to look her. Instead, she became very interested in the wooden floor. 

“Lovely to meet you Catherine. I’m Jane Seymour.”

Always smiling, the blonde woman extended an arm to shake. Catherine accepted, and was further surprised when the handshake led into a sort of hug.

Jane did the same gesture with Anne.

“Thank you for reaching out to me, Jane.” Boleyn glanced down at her cousin, her words clearly sincere. 

“No problem at all. I’m happy to do whatever I can for Katherine.”

As warm and caring as Jane’s voice was in saying this, they only seemed to further put the girl on edge. Her posture stiffened and she bowed her head down.

There was a bit of a pause that would’ve been awkward if Jane hadn’t broken the silence.

“I’ll be on my way then,” the woman flashed a smile. Katherine’s reaction didn’t seem to faze her at all, she didn’t show a hint of contempt towards the younger girl.

“Have fun, alright? If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ring me.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

These were the first words uttered by Katherine since she walked through the door. Her voice was so small that you had to lean in closer to make out what she was saying. It was uneven and unsure, and in noticing this Catherine couldn’t stop the faintest of frowns from forming on her lips.

So polite… yet so nervous?

“Goodbye, Kat.”

Jane gave the girl’s hand a squeeze before waving to the other two women and heading out.

“How’s my favourite cousin doing? It’s been so long! I’m in love with your hair, you look like a piece of bubblegum. In a good way!”

Anne made no move to hug the girl, but was clearly excited to see her again. They all started towards to kitchen, and Catherine couldn’t help but notice the way Katherine was taking cautious and measured steps, almost like she was sneaking up on someone.

Or away from someone.

Still, the corners of her lips upturned the smallest bit. She unconsciously played with a bit of her pink hair.

“I… I missed you, Anne.”

There had never been a more adorable phrase uddered.

Well, maybe except when Anne called Catherine my entire world. That was pretty adorable.

Katherine’s small voice and shy nature just made Catherine’s heart burst.

However, if you looked at Katherine’s face when they arrived the the feast layed out in front of them you would’ve had the impression that she was looking at a crime scene.

Anne picked up on the discomfort real fast.

“You can have whatever you’d like.” She reassured, “How about I fix you a plate with a little bit of everything and you can see what you like best?”

Katherine nodded stiffly.

Soon, three plates were fixed. Anne had a skyscraper of pancakes on hers with half of the bottle of syrup poured on top. Catherine physically blocked the freezer to keep Anne from putting scoops of ice cream on top.

Catherine’s own plate was packed with bacon, eggs and half a bagel. The last plate contained a variety of foods, just as promised.

Katherine poked at a blueberry muffin, ripping off small crumbs and eating them slowly.

“I’ve heard so many lovely things Katherine,” Parr tried, wanting to make the girl feel welcome.

“I’m very happy to have the chance to get to know you.”

Katherine’s eyes bulged out of her head. 

Was it something I said?

“I’m so sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself!”

Katherine’s frantic apology concerned Parr, so she did her best to reassure the girl.

“No problem at all. I haven’t even introduced myself either, and you’re the guest. Besides,”

She smiled lightly to Katherine, who relaxed a bit in her chair.

“You’re Katherine Howard, no introduction needed. Isn’t that right, babe?”

“‘Ouw wight!” Boleyn piped up with a mouthful of pancakes. She swallowed before continuing. “Your awesomeness speaks for itself, Kitty.”

The girl lowered her head, her cheeks visibly heating up.

After a few more bites of food, Katherine regains the confidence to speak again.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too, Catherine.”

As shyly as she spoke, Catherine could tell how genuine she was being.

“I- I haven’t heard much about you, I really didn’t have the chance to be told… but I’m happy to be meeting you as well.”

Formal, sincere, yet also stilted and anxious all at once.

Sometimes, Cathy wished she wasn’t so observant. It felt wrong to be so aware of Katherine’s small behaviors, it wasn’t her intention to invade her privacy.

No amount of analysis would have made Catherine ready to hear the response to the next question asked.

For a while, Anne was comfortably chatting in her energetic way. Katherine didn’t seem to mind the fact that she could barely get a word in, in fact she seemed almost grateful for that.

After picking at everything on her plate, it seemed she’d taken a liking to the cut up fruit and dipped each piece into a bit of Nutella on her plate.

She even got up for seconds of the fruit. Anne beamed when that happened.

Katherine carefully sat back down, her posture perfect. Her elbows never even got close to touching the table.

But the big question came right after Kat popped a Nutella-dipped apple slice in her mouth:

“Kitty, how has your stay with Jane been so far?”

The girl took a second to think, although her facial expression gave no clues as to what was actually going through her head.

“She’s very nice… she hasn’t locked me in my room once yet! She keeps the pantry unlocked as well.”

Unluckily enough, Catherine ended up taking a sip of water at that exact moment and ended up choking on it. 

Katherine and Anne both looked over, Parr muttering an apology and something about it going down the wrong tube to play it off.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” Anne continued with the conversation, “You deserve to be safe.”

“... It’s only been two weeks…”

She sounded utterly defeated about what she was implying.

And Catherine wasn’t about to have that.

“I’ve just met you, Katherine. I don’t know your situation and I can’t even begin to imagine it. But what I know for sure is that you’re always welcome here and if anything happens in the future you will always have a place here.”

The pink-haired girl didn’t seem entirely convinced or reassured.

“... Thank you.”

Proving things like that will take some time.

It’s not going to happen all in one day. 

Still, Katherine deserves to hear it be said. 

It was clear to the writer at this point that Katherine was in foster care. Really, that didn’t make a difference at all because it’s not something that defines a person.

Catherine focused on the soft-spoken, mindful girl in front of her and couldn’t wait to get to know her for her.

Anne Boleyn was one of the best people at small talk in the world, which helped kick the upbeat chatter back into gear. Through the following conversation, she found out that Katherine was in Year 12. She enjoys music and singing, according to Anne she’s the next Brittany Spears.

“Do you have any pets this time around?” 

Kat shook her head in response to her cousin. 

“The fur isn’t great for Jane. But her neighbor has rescues and she lets me come over to give them treats and play with them! Her name is Anna, she’s a tattoo artist.”

Something else that Catherine noticed was that when Katherine got excited about something, her eyes lit up in pure joy. It was really nice to see.

She eagerly discussed the dog’s names and preferred chew toys as they finished the rest of their food.

Once everyone was finished eating, Anne took the plates and put them all in the sink.

“I’m about ready to head out,” She grinned, an air of playfulness about her. “Are you ready, Kitty?”

Looking up at her cousin curiously, she asks, “Where are we off too?”

“The fair’s in town!”

Anne jumped up from her chair and let out and excited giggle. Katherine joins in with a light laugh and a smile that Catherine never wanted to see go away.

The pair definitely looked related at that moment. Even if Katherine settled down from her excitement quickly (kind of like she was forcing it down or stifling it?), they basically had the same reaction.

Which Catherine thought was absolutely adorable.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon.” Catherine piped up. Walking over to her girlfriend she wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Anne leaned into the touch, resting her head on Cathy’s shoulder. The writer couldn’t help but press a kiss onto her partner’s forehead.

Catherine immediately regretted doing that when Kat flinched away.

It was as if the sight hurt her somehow.

“I’ll - wait in the car.”

Katherine scampered out of the room, moving quickly yet silently.

Anne watched her leave with a sigh. Catherine turned to her girlfriend with a questioning look.

“Is she alright? Did we do something wrong?”

“Kissing you could never be wrong,” Anne teased. Her girlfriend’s cheeks started involuntarily turning crimson.

“I know her reaction wasn’t, well, the warmest… it’s all just very complicated. Thank you for being so patient-“

“No need to thank me.” Catherine asserted, “It’s the least I could do. I’ll accommodate Katherine in any way she needs me to. And I meant what I said to her.”

Anne didn’t respond with words, by enveloped the smaller woman in a big hug and nothing else needed to be said.

They headed out to the car. Boleyn slipped into the driver’s seat, and Catherine was about to slide into the passenger seat but decided to sit next to Katherine in the back instead.

Kat seemed surprised by this, but didn’t tense up in anyway. Catherine even swore she saw a ghost of a smile on the girl’s lips as she buckled her seatbelt.

As the drove onto the road, the writer asked:

“How did you two get to know each other?”

“Oh, I’ve known Kitty since she was a baby. Suddenly I didn’t get any of the attention at our family gatherings.” Anne faked a pout.

“I remember following you around the yard when I was really little,” Kat recalled, “I remember once you pelted an acorn at Isaac’s car. The alarm went off and you blamed it on me.”

Catherine burst out laughing at that, Anne giving a sheepish grin.

“Leave it to Anne Boleyn to get you in trouble.”

Katherine cracked a small grin. 

“But there were fun times too. There was the time that I begged you to put pink flowers we’d found in the near the ditch in my hair, and you said you weren’t all that great at that sort of thing… but you did it, and I loved it and didn’t take the flowers out until I was made to. Stuff like that meant a lot to me, especially as we both got older…”

“It meant a lot to me too.” Anne replied, “And for the record, I still don’t think Isaac knows I was the one who scratched his car.”

Katherine lifted her head curiously towards Cathy.

“So, how did you and Anne meet?”

This question caught Catherine off guard, for some reason. Luckily, Anne jumped in right away.

“High school, of all places. Wish I could say it was somewhere actually worth the time of day,” Boleyn made a face of disgust.

“We were in Year 11 actually. How could you not fall for this one when she slanders the patriarchy by correcting the approach our education system takes to historical events?”

She winks for added effect.

Katherine just looks absolutely lost.

“I… have no idea what you just said.”

“Most of what Anne says flies right over my head. And I’m dating her.”

“You find it charming.” She quips back, sticking out her tongue.

The conversation comes to a close. The driver flicks the radio on to avoid spending the rest of the ride in silence.

Some pop station was playing, and the passengers had a blast singing along to the songs playing and attempting to harmonize (which sometimes failed horribly). Katherine even joined in during particular parts, but never sang louder than a soft whisper.

They eventually found parking just down the street from the fair.

“Let’s go!”

Anne latched onto the arms of her girlfriend and her cousin before taking off down the sidewalk. Katherine was laughing the whole way, and as for Catherine, she was used to these antics at this point.

The three of them paid for their bright purple wristbands for admission into the fair and their senses were immediately overwhelmed.

The sounds of a roller coaster clicking down its track and gleefully screaming children, the smell of funnel cake and churros wafting through the air, the sights of all of the people out with their families…

Catherine snuck a glance at the two girls beside her, who were taking everything in with a smile.

“Watchya wanna do first, Kitty?” Anne asked.

“Well…” Kat shuffled her feet on the gravel beneath her, refusing to look her cousin in the eyes.

“Maybe we could do some of the rides for a bit? While the lines are still down? Unless, you guys want to do something else…”

“That’s a great idea.” Catherine reassured.

After paying for another green fluorescent wristband for their left hand, they were equipped to do as many rides as they wanted.

Anne chose the first one, taking the group over to one called The Zipper. It was basically a rotating frame covered in flashing lights with a bunch of free-flipping compartments to hold riders. It was one of the most intense rides at the fair, which is of course why it was Anne’s favourite (even though the bumper carts were a close second).

They tried every single ride there. The girls all packed into a seat on the scrambler, making sure Katherine was in the middle because the people at the sides inevitably get squished.

They spent a while racing each other on the slides, Catherine high-fiving Kat every time she managed to beat her cousin.

They walked through the fun house, they spun as fast as they possibly could on the spinning teacups and Catherine was just happy that she hadn’t thrown up her brunch.

If she had to choose her favourite ride, she would’ve said the roller coaster. Not that it was the most thrilling experience, but she enjoyed watching the way Kat and Anne would cheer and scream at the drops and sharp turns.

She was just glad they were all having a great time together.

And really, Anne was right when she said her cousin was a very fun person given the chance. A lot of her worried behaviours melted away, no longer putting a mask over her emotions.

This became clear whenever Katherine took the other two on her favourite rides. She enjoyed the merry-go-round (which she looked slightly embarrassed by), but Anne was great at always requesting it and Katherine would agree with a nod.

Katherine’s favourite, as well as their combined favourite ride was without a doubt the Ferris wheel.

“I love how you can see everything from up here. It makes you feel less small.” She solemnly spoke the first time they rode it.

Anne assured her that even if that was the case, she would always be her baby cousin. 

On their fifth ride of the Ferris wheel, Katherine’s guard was almost completely gone. She snuggled into her cousin as they went up in the air, looking as if there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

Anne looked over at Cathy while this was happening. There was so much emotion in her eyes that the writer had trouble parsing them out, but it was clear that she reciprocated Katherine’s feelings.

After two and a half hours spent in the beating sun out on rides, they decided it was time for a break.

“Would you like to check out what’s going on at the main stage, Kitty?”

“That sounds like fun.” She agreed.

The three headed over to find a spot on the bleachers. It looked like there was a magician’s act happening on stage.

“I’m going to do something real quick,” Anne said once they found their place, “Would you like to come with me, Kat? Or do you want to stay here?”

Her eyes darted between the girl in blue next to her, the stage in front of her, and her chaotic cousin.

“I’ll - be good here.”

Anne skipped away, leaving the two girls alone.

A comfortable silence set in as they watched the magic tricks being performed.

“How are you enjoying the fair so far?” Parr questioned.

“I’m having a great time.” She looked at her with her sincere brown eyes.

“Thank you so much for this, Catherine.”

Katherine’s eyes wandered shyly. She still didn’t look completely comfortable, but that kind of thing takes time.

Catherine was happy to wait as long as the girl needed her to.

“I’m glad Anne suggested we do this today. I’m having fun spending time with you. Plus,” she paused, nodding her head in the direction that Boleyn beaded off,

“I guess having my goofball of a girlfriend around isn’t so bad either.”

Katherine giggled lightly at this comment.

“What’s so funny?”

Anne took back her seat at the end of the bleacher row, a bowl of something between her hands.

“Oh, nothing… what’ve you got there?” Cathy asked.

The woman smirked, tilting the bowl so the two other could see. Three spoons were sticking out of several colourful scoops of-

“Ice cream!”

Katherine smiles, eyeballing the pink scoop. “You remembered that this is my favourite.”

“Not like it was difficult. Anything pink is your favourite.” She pointed out, turning to address her girlfriend.

“You can try, but no one gets in between me and my ice cream.”

“I swear babe, you run on nothing but refined sugar.”

“Just the way I like it.”

She passed the ice cream over to Kat who was sitting in the middle of the three of them. They snacked as they watched an audience member vanish for inside a box. Catherine even gave in and had few bites, leaving the strawberry for the pink-haired girl.

“Hey, look who it is!”

Anne emphatically pointed to someone at the bottom of the bleachers.

Inspecting her from the back, the woman’s perfect posture and curly black locks were a dead giveaway as to who it was.

“How many Catherine’s can we have in the same area?” Cathy quipped playfully.

Anne started yelling for the woman in a shrill and singsongy voice. “CATALINA!”

She turned around to look for the source of the noise, and must’ve figured out who it was because she headed up the bleachers to where they were sitting.

“Anne Boleyn!” The curly hair woman asserted fiercely. “I thought we agreed you would never call me that in public again.”

The girl in green just shrugs. “Teasing you is too much fun for me to stop.”

Parr butted into their argument. “Hello, Catherine. Lovely to see you again.”

Catherine nodded cordially, somehow not bowing her head in the process.

“It’s nice to see you too. And who might this be?”

Before Cathy can process what is happening, Kat is curling into her side. Her eyes show the most fear Catherine had seen from anyone before.

It must’ve been an instinct, because she responded by placing a protective arm over the teen’s knees without a second thought.

“Catherine, this is my cousin, also Katherine.” Anne introduced slowly, probably sensing the shift in mood.

“Kitty, this is our friend Catherine Aragon.”

She said the friend very carefully and deliberately.

Katherine’s eyes dart to Aragon for a second, and spare managed to follow her gaze up to where she’d been zoning in on.

What seemed to bother her was Catherine’s necklace of all things.

Before that could be dwelled on too much Katherine was back to staring at her shoes without adding anything to the conversation.

“Three Catherines? Have we broken a record or something?” The standing woman sarcastically adds, but even she knows something’s off.

“I’m the special one!” Anne declares, quickly adding:

“But that’s always the case anyways. Right babe?”

Catherine looked at her girlfriend quizzically.

Um, maybe not the for one-liners?

“Yes…?” It came out more like a question, not that she didn’t think her girlfriend was the most special woman in the universe, but maybe when the teenager you’re responsible for is looking at your friend like she’s seen a ghost it isn’t the best time to point it out?

Just a thought?

Then Boleyn gave her a look, a bright-eyed slightly vulnerable look that told her everything she needed to know.

Trust me on this.

Anne grabbed both of her girlfriend’s hands, pulling her off of the bleachers. She was now standing in front of her.

Boleyn stood up, cupped Catherine’s face softly with her hands and pulled her into a kiss.

Naturally, Catherine was surprised by this but quickly relaxed into the kiss. They pulled away after a few seconds and she could practically feel the redness creeping up her face.

“I’m happy for you two, but I sincerely hope you haven't been snogging all day in front of the poor girl.”

Everyone turned to look at the mentioned teen, who looked… in complete shock.

Anne fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“Only a little.” 

“Well, this has definitely been an experience… I better head back down, I was saving spots for the pageant. Deborah says it’s a tradition… a superficial one, but is she knows someone in it then it’s good to support them.”

Aragon spoke directly to Kat. “I’m happy to have met you. Hopefully I see you around.”

As the woman walked away, Catherine got one last good look at her necklace;

It was a dainty thing, it looked like pure gold. It was a simply cross on a small chain, the charm hanging only a few inches below her neck.

“How are you doing?”

Anne put a hand on her cousin's shoulder.

Kat blinked a few times, seemingly at a loss.

She whispered something after a while of silence. It was so quiet that the writer could barely hear, but from what she was able to put together she said:

“You’re so… comfortable.”

Anne apparently had no trouble hearing the girl and answered. “It gets much easier when you know it’s safe. Sometimes, it isn’t though, and it’s okay to be cautious. Smart, even.”

Catherine still couldn’t figure out the reason that Katherine was uncomfortable, not that it mattered.

“Let’s go check out more of the fair, yeah?”

Anne grinned adventurously, extending an arm to Katherine. It took her a bit to stand up, but eventually she did and the three headed off the bleachers and away from the main stage.

They found themselves in the market section. Stands were set up in small colourful tents, selling things from candles to jewelry to very tacky bedazzled purses.

It turned into a game of finding the most ridiculous thing for the other person to wear.

Boleyn found a hideous Hawaiian shirt for Catherine to try on, but she got her back with an awful looking cowboy hat.

Anne found some strange earrings that were basically felt flowers connectected together in a foot long strand.

“This is perfect for you, Kitty!”

The pink haired girl was facing a rack of dresses, but it was as if she could see through it.

She was completely zoned out.

“Kitty?”

Snapping back to reality, Katherine almost knocked over the rack she was standing in front of. Luckily, Catherine sprang forward to keep it from tipping over.

“What’s on your mind, Kat?”

“Nothing…” She fumbled with her hands, balancing slightly on her toes.

“It’s, it’s stupid….”

“Hey. If it matters to you, then no it isn’t.”

Parr really wanted Katherine to understand, so she tried looking her in the eyes.

She averted her gaze, but spoke up.

“C-Catherine, Catherine Aragon, she - mentioned another woman. Deborah. Do you know who that is?”

Wracking her brain to think if she knew anyone with that name, Catherine came up dry. Her girlfriend shook her head as well.

“Why do you ask?”

“... No reason.”

“You’re sure there’s nothing else?” Anne tries gently.

Kat shook her head, walking out of the vendor’s tent signalling the end of the conversation. The two adults give each other a glance of let’s keep our guard up before walking out to join her.

As they continue to check out the sights of the fair, Katherine’s gaze lingers on a sparkly unicorn plush hanging from a game booth.

… Which of course, means that Anne immediately circles back around and slaps money on the counter.

“Hit me with some bean bags!”

It was a traditional knock-em-down game, with metal bottles lines up on some shelves.

Anne lobbed the first few bean bags, managing to knock out half of the bottles.

Cathy throws a few as well, getting a few good shots in. Kat insisted that her aim was abysmal and she was going to waste all of their money but after some prodding, she joined in too.

When there was only one bottle left, Kat was the only one with a bean bag left to throw.

“I don’t know if I can do this… maybe one of you should take it.”

“You’ve got this Kitty. I know you do.” Anne firmly encouraged.

“Wind up as far as you can, and throw hard.” Catherine added. “You’ve already got a feel for it, so you have it in the bag.”

Reluctantly following the writer’s instructions, the teen carefully lined up the shot.

Taking a deep breath, she gripped the object in her hand tightly.

Then she sent it hurtling forward, crashing directly into the bottle, sending it tumbling to the ground.

“Yes!”

“You did it!” 

Katherine wrapped her arms around her cousin, jumping up and down excitedly. 

It was impossible for Catherine not to beam at the sight.

After the rush of excitement the teen made a shy gesture towards the plush she wanted. The game attended happily got it down.

Kat squeezes it close to her. “Her name is Bling Bling Sparkle Bling Bling,” She said more self-assured then Catherine would’ve been saying that name out loud, “But we’ll call her Sparkie for short.”

“Well, I think I’ve got the perfect place for Sparkie to check out with us…”

Boleyn lead the way (again), that is, until Katherine noticed the large barn coming into view and realized where they were headed.

“Letsgoletsgoletsgo!”

She latched onto the two adults hands and pulled them forward with more force then Anne had when they were first arriving at the carnival.

The excitement was even more clear when they got into the barn.

Katherine absolutely loved animals.

She was so gentle with each one, even the pigs and birds and the one chicken that tried pecking at her finger.

Her soft approach with each one was something to witness. It was a gift.

Anne seemed to think so too. “Kitty’s going to be a veterinarian when she’s older.”

“Come on, Anne..” The mentioned girl shook her head while petting a bunny’s fluffy white fur, “I’m not smart enough for that.”

“School does not dictate how smart you are. I almost failed out of my senior year, and the only reason I didn’t is because I had Cathy to help me through. You are plenty smart and then some, Katherine Howard.”

Kat furrowed her brows in disagreement, but said nothing and continued petting the rabbit.

They continued to look around for a while. At some point, a handler for the two horses popped in to give them some food and he let Katherine feed them some grain.

He was impressed with her skills, telling her that he wished he’d of been as calm the first time he’d ever fed a horse.

Truth be told they could’ve spent the rest of the day in there, but Anne suggested they go see if the rides were lit up now that it was getting later.

Even though the sun was still out, a few of the booths and displays were lit up in neon. That, combined with the quieter atmosphere of the later time made walking through the fair and taking everything in a great time all on its own.

Of course, the company helped.

Her girlfriend was by her side, as was a pink-haired girl who she loved to see happy more than anything.

Katherine was a lot calmer than earlier, her worries no longer apparent. Maybe it was the animals, maybe it was something else…

But she had her arm linked with her cousin and a big contagious smile on her face.

The mask was gone.

Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.

Because as they passed by the food vendors, a certain Spanish woman noticed them passing by.

She pointed the group out to a woman standing next to her and the two stepped out of line to meet up with them.

Katherine stopped dead in her tracks. Unlinking arms with Anne, she planted her feet firmly on the ground.

“Katherine?” Parr called to the girl, concerned.

Sadly, Anne had stepped in front to greet Catherine and the stranger so was unaware of the scene happening behind her.

“Catalina! I’m surprised to see you haven’t run off in the opposite direction when you saw us coming up.”

“I’m surprised that they’ve been able to put up with you for this long.” Catherine shot back.

“Deborah, this is Anne Boleyn. I’m sure you may have to impression that we’re very civil from that exchange, but that’s really just how our friendship is.”

“Catalina absolutely adores me.” Anne drawled, then turned to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, Deborah.”

She nodded stiffly in reply. The woman had a similar posture to Aragon in that she held her head high, but unlike Aragon it was as if she was looking down on everyone else.

Her eyes darted away from Anne and to the pair in front of her.

“Katherine!?” 

The teen inched closer to Cathy. Her bottom lip was quivering, and she looked absolutely terrified.

This was something much more than just the nerves she had when being introduced to Aragon earlier.

Something’s wrong here.

Anne glanced back at the woman’s words, finally aware of her little cousin’s state.

“Is.. is something the matter?” Anne was completely lost, as was Aragon.

“I would hope not.” Deborah insisted.

She took a few steps closer to Katherine, who yelped and latched onto Parr’s arm as if her life depended on it. Curling in on the older woman, she was shaking slightly.

“It’s been ages, Katherine. I see you’ve ruined your hair while you’ve been away.”

Kat’s hold only tightened around Parr, whimpers falling from her lips.

“Deborah!” Aragon was clearly disturbed by her friend’s sudden behaviour.

“You can call me out of line all you want, but I’ve tried my best to save Katherine from the depths of hell.”

Deborah took another step closer. This time, Catherine stepped protectively in front of the teen.

“All your parents did was try and save you! And you repay them with prison time? You’re a devil child, Katherine Howard. You’re beyond rescue. The lord stands with me on this.”

Anne wasn’t dealing with any of this. “You better stop spouting your lies and leave and leave right now before I report you-”

The pressure on Cathy’s arm lifted suddenly.

Tears falling down her cheeks, Katherine bolted away without looking back.

“Katherine!” 

Three voices called after her.

But it was no use.

The Spanish woman was fuming.

“I can’t believe you! How dare you speak to anyone that way, let alone a sixteen year old! Have you no decency? And you bring the Lord’s name to your awful behaviour!”

Even Deborah cowered under Catherine’s angry gaze. She could be very threatening when she wanted to be, which served her well in a time like this.

“Catherine, I thought surely you of all people would understand where I’m coming from.”

“There’s no one who could possibly understand where you’re coming from, me least of all!”

Deborah wasn’t backing down. “She’s a deviant, Catherine! An abomination!”

“Leave. NOW.”

Catherine’s voice was scarily unmoving and calm.

Deborah couldn’t help but shoot one last look of disapproval at Anne and Cathy before stalking off.

As soon as the woman was gone, Aragon’s narrowed eyes and clenched jaw soften into a look of desperate remorse.

“I can’t believe she… I had no idea… I’m so sorry, you two.”

“It wasn’t you, Catherine. We know your true views and know that you would never associate yourself with anyone who thinks that way.”

The Spanish woman nodded the information away as Anne spoke up.

“We need to find Kat.”

They decided splitting up would be the best plan of attack. Catherine went off to the left where the stage was, Anne headed back towards the ride which meant Cathy was in charge of searching the south part of the fair.

Scanning everywhere she passed for the girl, her search came up dry.

Until a red barn came back into view and she knew exactly where she was headed.

“Katherine?”

Continuing to call her name, she passed through the barn before circulating the outside.

After rounding the corner of the barn she saw a familiar pink-haired teen crumpled into a ball on the ground clutching a violet plush to her chest.

“Katherine…”

Startled brown eyes peeked up for a second.

Catherine could feel her heart ripping apart at the sadness that they held.

Kat burrowed them back into her stuffed animal, continuing to cry her eyes out.

“Hey..” 

The writer took a seat next to the girl, placing a stable hand on her shoulder.

“It’s going to be alright. The woman is gone, and she won’t be coming anywhere near you. I won’t let that happen.”

Katherine slowly lifted lifted her head to look at Parr.

Her face was red and wet, but underneath it all, it was impossible to miss how vulnerable she was.

“I hope you know that none of what she said was true. You, Katherine Howard, are an amazing kid who deserves so much more than what she got. And you’ve got stellar hair.”

Kat let out a small huff which Catherine hoped was her trying to laugh. She played with the tips of her hair between her fingers.

The writer pulled the sleeve of her cardigan over her hand and wiped away some of the tears trailing down her face.

“I’m sorry… I was so scared… I had to get out of there…”

“Don’t ever apologize for being scared. It’s not something to be sorry for.”

Catherine gave a comforting smile.

“And I want you to know that you aren’t wrong for changing your look. Dye your hair pink, get a nose ring, heck you could even shave your eyebrows off, and you’re not wrong for doing it. Nobody should tell you how to express yourself.”

Katherine slowly leaned closer to Parr, resting her head on her shoulder. Giving her affection that she previously had only wanted from Anne.

Parr’s heart soared as they stayed like this for a while. She was happy to be a source of comfort.

“.... A lot of bad people, they wanted to make me feel bad about who I am.”

Catherine nodded her head to show the girl she was giving her her full attention. Kat fumbled with her left sleeve as she spoke.

“Some of them were doing it out of love. Out of wanting my soul to be saved. But that doesn’t excuse what they did to hurt me.”

Katherine tentatively pushed up her sweater sleeve and and flipped her arm over.

Right below her wrist, there was a medium sized tattoo of a pink, white, and red heart.

“Anna did this for me. After everything I’ve been through, it felt right. Even if I’m not ready to show it to everyone yet. I know it’s there. And now, you do too.”

Catherine took the younger girl’s hands in hers. “It makes me happy you shared this with me. Thank you for trusting me. The tattoo is beautiful.”

“I do trust you. Maybe it was silly of me to keep it this long because I know you and Anne are together-“

“It’s not silly at all. We all get ready in our own time. Can I tell you more of the story about how I got to know your cousin?”

Katherine nodded eagerly.

“Well, it was in Year 12 like Anne said. It was the first year we had classes together. I remember in History she sat diagonally from me, and I wouldn’t be able to focus because I was staring at her.”

Catherine quickly added, “Don’t tell her I said that. It will inflate her ego even more.”

The teen giggled lightheartedly.

“Eventually, our History teacher paired us together on a research paper and we got to talking. We started to get to know each other. I remember not being able to understand why she’d want to talk to me of all people…”

“Sometimes people would mutter hateful things under their breaths at us. But one day, it came to a head when an older guy came up while I was talking to Anne and pushed me to the ground. He was shouting derogatory words and spit in my face.”

“After that happened, I was terrified. I isolated myself from Anne, thought it would be better if I stopped these feelings from happening. But it wasn’t. I was sad, and confused, and all I wanted to do was get rid of who I really was…”

Katherine cut in. “I understand that. That’s how I felt, too.”

“Anne was so patient. We spent time hanging out outside of school, and little by little I got comfortable with being together in front of others. Holding hands in front of others. Anne mattered so much more than anyone else’s opinion did.”

Her mind wandered back to their first kiss.

Anne asked her to be her date to the end of school dance, and of course she said yes.

They had the best night ever, and during a slow dance Catherine knew in that moment she was ready.

She leaned in, softly kissing her girlfriend on the lips.

It was in front of the whole school, but Catherine didn’t even register that anyone else was there.

It was just her and Anne.

No one else mattered.

“I don’t know how they mistreated you, Katherine. You don’t ever have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you didn’t deserve any of it. Just know that it will get better. No matter how long it takes or how hard it is, you’re a fighter. And we’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

Kat pulled the woman next to her into a hug. This one wasn’t desperate or pleading or fearful: it was gentle and caring.

Her mask was gone.

It was really her.

Catherine cherished the hug for every moment it lasted, making sure she wasn’t the first to let go.

The teen pulled away, glancing down at the drawing on her arm again.

“Someday, I’ll be able to wear short sleeves and let everyone see this. But for now, I’m happy with you, Anna, and Anne knowing. I mean, Anne doesn’t know about the tattoo but I think you understand.”

“I hope you know the minute you show Anne this tattoo she’s gonna be jealous and want one too.”

Katherine laughed again. “You guys could get matching couples tattoos! That’d be really cool.”

Catherine ruffled the younger girl’s hair affectionately.

“Maybe someday, kid.”

She stood up, extending an arm to Kat.

“Let’s go find your cousin, how about that?”

Kat accepted and let Cathy help her off the ground. They walked through the rides section of the park, the lights now all activated and casting pretty purples and blues around the whole fair.

Katherine was right at her side, their arms brushing gently due to their close proximity.

It felt right.

“Kitty!”

A relieved Anne Boleyn ran up and scooped her little cousin into a hug. “Are you alright?”

Kat’s brown eyes met Cathy’s as she responded. “Yes, I am.”

Anne semi-pulled out of the hug, but only to pull her girlfriend in closer.

“I’ve got you two. And I’m never letting go.”

The embrace lasted for a while. Anne was holding on the tightest, which was much different than what usually happened when she gave out hugs. 

“Kitty… how did you know that woman?” Her tone was serious and strained.

“I don’t know her very well,” Katherine said quickly, almost like she was trying to reassure her cousin. “She started coming to our church when I started secondary school.”

Her voice started to hitch.

“She’s seen a few things happen… she supported what they were doing.”

That only made Anne let out a shaky breath and pull them both tighter.

Catherine didn’t know anything about what happened to Kat. She didn’t expect to be told, she didn’t feel she deserved to know in the slightest; it was Katherine’s story to tell, after all.

But with the flinching while watching her and Anne kiss, with the references Katherine made to being hurt for expressing herself, the way every move she was almost too perfect as if to try and please someone else and the religious overtones to it all…

Not to mention her parents were in jail.

It was hard to wrap her head around.

Katherine deserves the world. 

They stayed clumped together in that huddle group as they shuffled towards the exit of the carnival. After the tiring events of the day, the three of them were ready to cozy up at home.

Anne sent a text to Aragon before starting the car. Buckling herself in, Katherine asked, “Do you guys think we could do movie night at your place? I mean, if you have the time-”

“That’s a great idea Kat. Thank you for suggesting it.”

The ride went by much faster the way back then it did the way there. Once they arrived at home, Catherine and Kat got to work pulling all of the pillows and warm blankets they could find from all of the rooms in the house.

Katherine bundled herself up in a fluffy white blanket. Parr sat cross-legged on the couch next to her as they scrolled through movie options on Netflix. The second Matilda popped up in their suggestions, Kat perked up and requested it. Catherine had never seen it before but was excited to watch it. 

Anne had gone to the other room to make a phone call and explained in hushed whispers the events that transpired earlier. She joined the two others after hanging up.

“Jane’s on her way over. I thought it would be nice if she joined us for the movie.” Katherine nodded and smiled at her cousin’s explanation. 

“I wonder if Jane has seen Matilda. It’s Catherine’s first time, too.”

“You’ve never seen Matilda?!? How have we gone our whole relationship without watching it? This is a crime.”

Anne plopped down at her own spot on the couch. “Remember when we used to watch this, Kitty? We used to pretend we had telekinesis all of the time. This must’ve been our favourite thing to watch together.”

“I do.” Katherine recalled fondly. “And it still is. My favourite movie, I mean.”

Stealing a shy glance at her cousin, she added; “I don’t think that’s going to change.”

The three settled in as the movie began to play. Not even five minutes in, there was a knock at the door.

Anne got up to answer it, and returned with a slightly disheveled yet still kindly blonde.

“Kat!”

Katherine kicked the blanket off of herself and got up to initiate a hug with Jane. When they first walked in together at the beginning of the day  Catherine hadn’t pegged them as being very close, but this hug changed her perception quite a bit.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, love.”

“I had people there to help me. Besides, I won’t let that woman ruin what was a really amazing day otherwise.”

“I’m so proud of you. You’re a strong one, Katherine Howard.”

Katherine guided her foster mom over to the couch. Jane admitted to never seeing Matilda either, which earned her a very over-dramatic reaction from Anne.

“Did either of you have childhoods? I’m appalled.”

They continued to watch. Catherine had to admit it was the perfect way to cap off their day, Kat was right on with her suggestion. It was nice to be warm and cozy and together.

A half an hour in, there was a second knock at the door.

This time, the writer got up to answer it albeit albeit confused since they weren’t expecting anyone else. Kat insisted on pausing the movie so that she could “get the full experience”.

Pulling the door open, behind it was none other than Aragon.

The curly hair woman stood stiffly, an apologetic look in her eyes. A pristine white envelope was clutched tightly in her hands. 

“-Catherine.”

The mentioned Catherine put a hand on the older woman’s shoulder, trying to calm her down.

“Hey. We found Kat, she’s doing great and wanted to have a movie night. Is everything alright?”

Aragon shook her head.

“No, it’s not alright. I let myself associate with someone with those kinds of views, someone who is against everything that I stand for. I’m not sure what her history is with Katherine, but either way I noticed how uncomfortable she was around me and should’ve been more careful introducing her to others.”

She extended the letter towards Cathy. “I’m not sure she would be comfortable with seeing me face to face, so I wrote out an apology for her. I just want her to know that I’m sorry-”

“How about we let Katherine decide?”

Cathy went back in the house, and after a brief discussion the pink haired girl followed her back to where Aragon was standing.

“Hi.”

Kat waved shyly.

“Katherine… I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier.”

The teen’s eyebrows raised. “Why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Not directly, but I could’ve done more to prevent that confrontation. When we first met you were uneasy, I should’ve taken that as cue to keep my distance… but instead, I put you in that situation. I’m so, so sorry Katherine. I would like you to know that I don’t share the same views as that woman at all, I don’t even know her very well…”

Catherine passed her letter the younger girl.

“I wrote you this.”

Katherine stepped forward and took the envelope. Tearing it open, her eyes scanned the paper inside.

As she continued reading, tears pricked her eyes and her breathing got heavier until she was weeping.

Aragon was horrified.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry-”

“No - no,” Katherine gave a watery smile, “It’s not like that.”

Pulling the letter close to her chest, she began to explain.

“Most adults don’t apologize… they think it’s beneath them to do that, especially if it’s to a kid. Even though you don’t have anything to be sorry about, it means a lot that you did this.”

The older woman shook her head, beginning to get teary herself.

“Of course, Katherine. I truly am sorry.”

She swatted at her tears with her palms and took a deep breath.

“I should be heading out so you can get back to your movie. Have a good night-”

“Catherine, wait.”

Kat shuffled forwards again, intertwining her hand with Aragon.

“Please stay. I want you here.”

She tilted her head towards Cathy. “If that’s alright with you two.”

The writer quickly nodded. “Catherine’s always welcome here. Maybe it’ll be her first time watching Matilda as well.”

“If you’re sure you want me to stay then… I’m happy to, Katherine. What did you say we were watching? Matilda?”

Katherine all but dragged her inside. “You’re going to love it!”

Catherine exchanges pleasantries with the rest of the woman inside. Jane introduces herself warmly as the movie continues to play.

The woman took a seat on a chair next to the sofa. Seeing as there wouldn’t be enough room for the four of them to sit on the couch, Parr happily sat down on the floor.

To her surprise, Katherine did the same. She took back her blanket and wrapped it around them both. 

The movie continued for a while. Anne and Katherine would sometimes interject to tell a story relating a scene to their childhood. Soon, Anne had slid off of the couch entirely and slung her arm around her cousin and her girlfriend.

Sat there, surrounded by her friends, sitting next to Anne and Katherine who were both grinning from ear to ear….

It was the perfect moment.

She was so thankful for that moment.

She was so thankful that Katherine was now in her life.

[eddlestonian]

Passwords

001 Many sites on the internet require passwords.  Although they seem a nuisance, they protect you.  Consider them like a key to a door.  

002 Why bother with passwords?

(i) Financial Management

For most people this means online banking.  If you use a weak password it is likely it will eventually get hacked.  Needless to say this could result in you losing money.

(ii) Auction Sites

If someone hacked your account they could make binding bids or buy things in your name.

(iii) Stock Trading

This is like (i) plus (ii).  Someone could buy or sell stock or have stock transferred.

(iv) Social Media

Hacked social media accounts can be used to post compromising messages that could embarrass or defame somebody, be used for harassment, or to build up a picture of who you are and everyone you know.  This could result in a visit from the police.  Social media is also very useful for hackers for enabling identity theft.

(v) Shops

Hacking one of your shopping accounts (e.g. Amazon) would only be an issue if you have a “stored” payment method such as credit card details.

If you discover that your payment information was used to ship unexpected goods to an unknown location, it’s clear that someone has hacked your account.

(vi) Gambling

A hacker could generate debts on your behalf.

003 How To Design a Good Password

The important things when designing a password (in order) are make it -  

(i) Memorable,

(ii) Long – the longer the better (at least 12 characters),

(iii) Complex,

(iv) Different for different sites.

004 The Core of the Password

First of all create a “core” password with a string of letters.  Three ways ways of doing this include -  

(i) Initial Letters

Open your favourite book.  Go to a memorable page e.g. your birthday. Read the first sentence.  For me this would be “The Age of Reason” by Sartre.  My birthday is on the 23rd.  The first sentence of the first paragraph on page 23 is “Boris bitterly regretted never having been there, he would certainly go if it reopened.”

This makes bbrnhbthwcgiir – 14 characters.  If I forget it I just have to go to my favourite book.

(ii) Relevant but Not Guessable Words

This could be a street name, hill names, school name, stream name(s), car. Don’t use words relevant to you or close family.  However, you could use a relative’s street name etc.  Hill or mountain names, especially if non-English, are good.  Similarly, the name of your school is bad because a hacker could probably get it from Facebook. So use a relative’s school instead.  The advice regarding streams/rivers is the same as for hills/mountains.  If the resulting password is too short add something relevant.

So, examples from these could be -

springwoodbank (where my parents-in-law lived)

anteallach (a Scottish mmountain)

bluemountainsgrammar (a school in Australia)

severnriver (a river far away)

deloreanbelfast (not my car!)

or -

Look out of the window -  flowerwheelbarrowbinhusband

Look at your wall - picturetelevisionblue

Look at your spouse - greynoseartist

(iii) A Silly Phrase

Examples could be -

weneedanewcomputer

mustremembermilk

quickbrowndogs

lillylikeschocolate

myneighbourisnoisy

dollypartonhasbigboobies

These are long and memorable.

005 Make The Password More Secure

The core password generated as above satisfies the first two criteria – long and memorable.  You could use it as it is.  However, to make it even better we can add complexity.  There are three easy ways of doing it – add special characters and/or numbers and use mixed case.  But where to put the number and special characters?  The easiest is between each word (ignoring example (iii) above) but the better way would be to place it in random places.  The downside here is that random places make   it less memorable.

(i) Special characters such as !, £, $, _

flower_wheelbarrowbinhusband

bbrnh£bthwcgiir

springwood!bank

we_need£a$new_computer

Bear in mind that some sites only allow certain special characters.

(ii) Numbers

The question here is how to decide what numbers to use.  Anything relevant to you or your close family is bad because it is available online from various sources (e.g. Facebook, Linkedin, Ancestry).  Of course 123456 is bad.  You could use something random but then it won’t be so easily memorable.  Ignoring close family, you could use the birth date of, say, your mother (or even better, your grandmother).  For me that would be 07071936.  You could use one or more of these numbers -

flower07wheelbarrow07bin19husband35

bb07rnhb07thw19cgiir35

07spring07woodbank1935

w07eneedane07wco19mput35er

(iii) Mix upper and lowercase letters

FlowerwheelbarrowbinhusbanD

bbrnhbthwcGiir

SpringWoodBank

wEnEEdanEwcomputEer

(iv) To make an extremely secure password, use all three complexity methods -

Flower_07wheelbarrow07bin19husbanD35

bb07rnh£b07thw19cGiir35

07Spring07Wood!Bank1935

w_07EnEEd£a$nE07w__co19mput35Er

006 Create Different Passwords For Different Websites

You could use the same password for each website but if that gets hacked it would mean the hacker would have access to all of your accounts online.  So, how to make it unique for each website?  Here are some suggestions.

(i) Add the name of the site to your password

Flower_07wheelbarrow07bin19husbanD35amazon

bb07rnh£b07thw19cGiir35ebay

07Spring07Wood!Bank1935twitter

w_07EnEEd£a$nE07w__co19mput35Erfineartamerica

(ii) Add an acronym relevant to the site

Flower_07wheelbarrow07bin19husbanD35azn

bb07rnh£b07thw19cGiir35eb

07Spring07Wood!Bank1935twt

w_07EnEEd£a$nE07w__co19mput35Erfaa

(iii) Add numbers

How to choose a number relevant to the site?  An easy way is the length of the name of the site -

Amazon = 6

Ebay = 4

Twitter = 7

Fineartamerica = 14

To make it harder for the hacker “pad” it to three digits; -

Amazon =  006

Ebay = 004

Twitter = 007

Finartamerica = 012

So we get -

Flower_07wheelbarrow07bin19husbanD35006

bb07rnh£b07thw19cGiir35004

07Spring07Wood!Bank1935007

w_07EnEEd£a$nE07w__co19mput35Er012

007 Storing Passwords

Generally speaking, storing passwords anywhere is a bad idea but if you really can’t remember your passwords, here is some advice.

(i) Write Them Down

Writing your passwords on a piece of paper and sticking it to your screen or under your keyboard is a bad idea.  

So find that favourite book again and your favourite page and slip your password note in there.  What happens if a burgler finds it? Burglars rarely, if ever, are interested in passwords – they are looking for cash or small high value items to sell on quickly.

If you have accepted the advice above you have a core password used for all sites.  For each site you have added a three-digit number at the end.  This means all you have to do is store your core password because you can work out which password to use for each site but others would have a hard time figuring it out.  

For example, instead of storing

Flower_07wheelbarrow07bin19husbanD35006

use

Flower_07wheelbarrow07bin19husbanD35

Even if a burglar/hacker tries to use the password it will not work anywhere.

(ii) Password Manager

A password manager is a computer program that allows users to store, generate and manage their passwords for local applications and online services.

Types of password managers include:

locally installed software applications

online services accessed through website portals

locally accessed hardware devices that serve as keys

Password managers typically require a user to generate and remember a master password to unlock the password manager.  Many password managers offer additional services such as storage of credit card and frequent flier information.

Password managers come and go but the popular ones in 2021 are LastPass, myki, LogmeOnce, Norton and bitwarden

The two downsides of using a password manager are that you usually have to pay for it and, of course, if the password manager gets hacked your passwords are exposed.

(iii) Security Key

A security key looks a bit like a USB pen.  It allows you to securely log into your accounts without having to key in passwords.  They usually just plug into a USB port.

There are various security keys available so its worth shopping around and comparing them.  For example scan.co.uk sells the Hypersecu FIDO Titanium Pro (works in Windows, Apple devices and Android) which currently does well in reviews.

In addition to managing passwords a security key can combat real-time attacks such as man-in-the-middle (MITM), prevent phishing, make keylogging impossible and protect PINs from brute force attacks.

The problem is that they can be difficult to set up.

008 How To get Hacked (Bad Security Online)

(i) Use Number Substitutions in Passwords

Common substitutions are -

a = @

s = $

o = 0

e = 3

i /l = 1

So, ”myamazonassword” becomes “my@m@z0nA$$w0rd”

Hackers are aware of this so number substitution is a bad idea.

Note – this is substitution not addition (discussed above).

(ii) Use Personal Information in Passwords

Examples are -

Your birthday,

Close family names (sons, daughters),

Pet name,

Your address.

(iii) Repeating Characters in Passwords

1234567

aaaaaaaaa

abcdefg

abcabcabc

(iv) Same Password for All Sites

Someone who culls your Facebook or Twitter password in a phishing exploit could, for example, access your bank account.   Reusing passwords for email, banking, and social media accounts can lead to identity theft. Two recent breaches revealed a password reuse rate of 31% among victims.

(v) Auto Sign In

Do not allow your computer to automatically sign into sites on boot-up

(vi) “remember me”, Automatic sign-in option

Do not use “remember me” or Automatic sign-in option which is available on some web sites.

(vii) Alien Computers

Do not enter passwords on a computer you don’t control, such as a friend’s computer, because you don’t know what spyware or keyloggers might be on that machine.

(viii) Open WiFi

Do not access password-protected accounts over open WiFi networks or any other network you don’t trust unless the site is secured via HTTPS. Use a Virtual Private Network (VPN) if you travel a lot.

(ix) Keyboard Combinations in Passwords

Avoid consecutive keyboard combinations such as qwerty or asdfg.

(x) Security Questions

The names of spouses, kids, other relatives, or pets, can be deduced with a little research.  When you click the “forgot password” link within a webmail service or other site you are often asked to answer a question or series of questions.  The answers can often be found on your social media profile.  This is how Sarah Palin’s Yahoo account was hacked.

(xi) Social engineering

This is an elaborate type of lying.  An alternative to traditional hacking, it is the act of manipulating others into performing certain actions or divulging confidential information.

[littlejeanniebean]

Ep. 3 | The Marauders: Riddle Records

A/N: “Come to the dark side. We have a solo career.” - Tom Riddle Jr., probably. On a lighter note, I can just see them backstage like this by the lovely artist @theimpossiblefifth​. Read on AO3 :) Enjoy! - J xx

One look in your eyes

I can read your mind

 You're naughty, my type

Care for a good time?

You could be just like all your high society friends at high tea

You could get with a football player

But there’s nothing like a shot of adrenaline in the morning

You know you want a dragon slayer

“Like me,” James mouthed seductively to the camera and winked.

“I’m Alice Fortescue, these wonderful lads are The Marauders, thank you for joining us this Saturday Night Live!” the actress grinned widely as the camera backed away.

The boys all gathered around her in a group hug.

“Holy shit! That was incredible!” Obviously, this was Sirius speaking.

“You were wonderful, honey,” a low voice whispered.

A smiling man with sweet eyes and a mop of dark hair put his arms around Alice.

“Oh, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Frank!” the bubbly actress grinned widely, “He’s a photographer for GQ.”

“Sick!” James shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Frank; lovely working with you, Alice; hope you’ll both come to one of our shows sometime, ta-ta!” Sirius practically dragged the band away before anyone could say anything more.

“What was that?” Remus tutted at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, ta-ta?” the bespectacled boy wiggled his nose to adjust his glasses that had gone askew, “Who says that?”

“Not what I meant,” the pale, mousy-haired boy shrugged off his suit jacket in their shared dressing room.

“Look, I’ll explain later!” Sirius pleaded, “Just hurry up and let’s get the hell -”

“Yoo-hoo! Siri!” a warbling, high-pitched voice giggled on the other side of the door, “This is their room here, Tommy...”

“Christ,” the dark-haired boy covered his face with his hands. 

“We’ll deal with Bella,” James set his jaw and turned to the other two, “Ready?”

Remus and Peter rolled up their dress shirt sleeves and nodded.

The trio filed out of the dressing room, forcing Bella Black and her friend backward, and immediately shut the door behind them.

“He doesn’t want to see you or any of your family again, Bella,” said James sternly, giving the show's new cameraman the stink-eye for good measure. 

Bella stuck her tongue out childishly. 

Her guest grimaced and offered his hand to the boys, “I’m sorry about her. She overheard I was interested in speaking with you young talents and… well, it got a bit out of hand. I’m Tom Riddle, of Riddle Records.” 

Really, the man with chiseled features and dark slicked back hair wasn’t much older than they were. But he was dressed more expensively than they could ever be comfortable with, even with the fresh success of their debut album.

“You’re Senior’s kid,” James nodded, his mother being an agent in the industry. He noted just the smallest flinch at the mention of the man's father. “With all due respect, we already have a label.”

“A label that has you locked into a contract as a group,” Tom gave them each his card and presented James with another one for Sirius, “We would pay any fees associated with breaking your current contract, then we would launch your solo careers - James as the pop prince, Sirius as the rock and roll bad boy, Remus as the R&B god, and Peter as the jazz legend!”

“We’re better musicians together,” said Remus.

Tom leaned in, “Your success now, quadrupled. Plus the potential for high-engagement collaborations among you. The freedom to create in your own style on top of that. Imagine it. And give me a call.”

"Ta-ta," Bella blew them each a kiss in a way that could only be described as menacing. When they were out of the boys' earshot she simpered, "You're such a clever businessman, Tommy."

"Don't call me that," he yanked his arm away and pressed his phone to his ear irritably, "I found us some new business and laid the groundwork. Can I have my allowance now?" 

The Marauders flew back to Scotland that night and rehearsed for months until they were ready to drop before flying back to LA for Night One. 

“Nervous?” Sirius whispered while they waited for their opening act, DJ Dedalus Diggle, to finish his set.

“Why would you ask me that?” James huffed, adjusting his bright red tie for the umpteenth time. 

“You need more glitter,” Molly patted his cheekbones lightly with her pointer finger, which was covered in the golden stuff.

“Five minutes, boys!”

“Thanks, Arthur!” Remus spoke for them all.

“We’ve got this, Jimbo!” Peter bounced excitedly on his heels.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been performing at recitals since you were big enough to reach the keys from the bench.”

“The jitters never get old,” his baby-faced friend told him, “but we’re all going out there. And with everything we do together, we always have fun.”

James nodded to himself and made sure to check on their drummer for the tour, “You good, Kingsley?”

The man in a rose-red disco suit twirled the sticks deftly in his hands, “Let’s do this.”

“... and now, Los Angeles,” Diggle hyped the crowd, “give it up… for The Marauders!”

The lights went up and the boys looked out at the incredibly emotional fans who’d come to see them.

“Right,” James whispered, reaching for the microphone with shaking hands, “A-one, two, three.”

I don’t have a lot of time

I’m running for my dear life

Can’t breathe without you by

Aye aye aye

It’s a full house

But I’ll seek you out

It’s a wild crowd

But I’ll seek you out

I don’t know how

But I’ll seek you out

James couldn’t help grinning ear to ear as Sirius broke out into his guitar solo.

Remus pointed out a sign that said, “Marry me, James Potter!”

The lead singer laughed and spoke into his mic, “Well, will you buy me dinner first, at least?” 

The girl promptly fainted.

Arthur was by her side immediately to make sure she was alright.

“Oh, dear, you’ve hit your head,” Molly crouched down beside him and handed the young girl an ice pack.

The red-headed manager got his first good look at the videographer and her multi-pocketed fishing vest and cargo pants.

She noticed him staring, “I’ve known these boys a long time. You never know what you’re going to need.”

“Good advice,” he helped her and the fan back up in one go, “I’m Arthur.”

“Molly,” she grinned, hoisting her camera back onto her capable shoulders and focused back in on James.

Under your spell, I like how you play it

Keeping it cool is so overrated

Waiting on you, every breath bated

Hey hey hey

They played LA two more nights before moving on to San Francisco. Then Vegas, then Seattle, and across the rest of the continent, all the way to New York.

“Madison Square Garden,” James swallowed, taking in the iconic jumbotron above their heads and the entire stadium, really.

Just three hours later, he was up on that very stage, sweat trickling down his back and the bridge of his nose as he sang his heart out about a funny story the designer, Lily Evans once related about her sister via Instagram post.

There’s a little house on Privet Drive

Where nothing ever happens

Little curtain twitcher of a wife

And a little boy and husband

But when they leave for their nine to five

And the little boy goes to school

The little old lady with cats ninety-nine

Does what she wills to do

Living next to ordinary no. 4

So much to do, so much to explore

The grocer down the street from me

His daughter left for university

And he needs the comfort of my tabbies

Yessiree, that’s what I’m here for

Your neighbour next to ordinary no. 4

After that, they went all over South America. The streets were typically too narrow to drive a tour bus around, so they often jetted from one country to another and rented a little convoy of minivans to take them to the arenas from their hotels and back.

“Shit, Petey’s got food poisoning!” Remus fussed over the poor boy.

“I’m fine! Really!” the blond insisted before doubling over and retching once more.

“I can fill in,” DJ Diggle adjusted his signature flat cap, “I have all your songs pre-recorded -”

“We have half an hour to get it out of his system!” Sirius declared determinedly, “We’re not going on without you, Pete!”

“I’ve got the doctor!” Arthur came in, followed closely by a middle-aged woman with apple cheeks and curly hair.

“You need to replace your fluids,” Molly handed Peter a bottle of electrolytes.

“Yeah, it’s a common bacterial infection going around among tourists,” said the doctor, giving him a dose of antibiotics, “He’s not in any shape to perform, you lot, so you might as well let him rest.”

“I can - oh,” Peter ran to the bathroom.

“How soon can you give him another dose of that?” Sirius asked anxiously.

“Not any time in the next half hour,” she narrowed her eyes at him, apparently having overheard his earlier proclamation.

“Poppy’s right,” said Arthur, “Peter’s health comes first. Dedalus, isolate the keyboards in every track and queue the set list.”

“Try to keep in time,” Sirius added.

“No improvising for tonight, lads,” Arthur warned the regular band members.

“But -” 

“I’m serious.”

“And so am I!” he could only maintain a straight face for two and a half seconds after he said this.

James sighed as they waited for the DJ to introduce them half an hour later, “It’s not going to be the same without Peter.”

“We’ll make the best of it, Jimbo,” Remus assured him, “and he’ll be back with us for the next one.”

The frontman set his jaw, pushed his glasses up his face and pulled the microphone to his lips.

Do you remember

The games we used to play

Mermaids underwater

Aliens in outer space

Do you remember

The sticks we’d raise aloft

We called them swords and never

Lost the battles that we fought

Peter was back on stage the next night, to much celebration and all too soon, they flew back across the pond for their European leg. Of course, their first stop was Scotland.

“It’s so good to be home,” James sighed happily, pausing to wipe his glasses on the hem of his shirt and winking at a girl who lost it at the sight of his abdomen, “This is our last song. Please join in if you know the words. Or make them up. Just have a good time. Be as loud as you want to. We love you all, thank you for everything you’ve done for us. We’re the luckiest boys in the world.”

Is there a risk to it?

Is it a challenge?

If there isn’t, if it isn’t, I don’t want it

Yeah, I wanna do some damage

I feel lucky tonight

I got you by my side

Seven days in a week

And you spend them with me

So hell yeah, I feel lucky

"That sounds really good, Pete," said James from where he lay on the floor of their stage after the arena emptied, "We could use that."

Peter chuckled, "It's Chopin. A waltz."

James ambles over and his friend makes room for him on the bench.

"It's a split C chord, then F, A flat..." he guides him through the song. It's out of time and messy, but they're having fun. "James…"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"What are we going to do about Tom Riddle's offer? I mean, his dad’s label practically owns half the music industry. And Castle is just this little independent… He could make our lives more difficult than he already has." 

"Unless we join him, you're thinking?" 

"We could ask Arthur to negotiate a group contract just the same. I doubt they'll dislike the idea of paying less upfront."

"But what about loyalty to everyone at Castle? McGonagall? Urquart?" James shook his head, "We're having a successful tour in spite of the ticket bots Riddle set on us. We're looking out into seas of fans all wearing our merch in spite of his shipment hijacking. And we're having bloody good time because we're not letting any of the homophobic slander he's fueled the press with get to us."

"Here, here!" cheered Sirius, clinking his beer bottle with his boyfriend's.

"Right, rest up, lads! You deserve it with all the work you put into this show," James stood and ambled back to the tour bus, where Shacklebolt was already sleeping soundly, being the earliest riser of them all.

“Goodnight, all!” Peter loved his friends, truly. But he was convinced their stubborn sense of the meaning of courage would do them a great disservice.

As always when confronted with a decision to make, he visited the only jazz bar in Scotland, the Leaky Kettle. Immediately upon stepping inside, he let the smooth piano carry away the stress. 

“The usual,” he told the bartender.

“Put it on my tab,” Tom Riddle swivelled around on the bar stool, "Fancy meeting you here."

"You mean you didn't expect to? Didn't plan it?" Peter received his drink with barely more than a sideways glance at their adversary.

"It's just business, Peter. I know you understand that."

"Then why go through all this trouble for one act? There must be thousands - hundreds of thousands - of talented artists who could make you rich."

Tom rolled his eyes, "My father was always… a bit single-minded. He wants to put me through my paces before handing me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. But don’t worry about that. Just know this: I think your group is talented and I can see that you’re the musical glue holding it all together. You’re the only one with any formal training, after all. And I really can see to your career’s longevity. If you stick with this boyband too long, though…” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Then what?”

“Well,” the label executive leaned in, “then you’ll need to think about what that does to your image as a real, serious musician.”

The blond boy finished his drink. 

“Another one for my friend,” Tom told the bartender, took his jacket, and left.

His calling card sat heavy in the keyboardist’s wallet.

[benjaminjofaiho]

The Captain Next Door Ch.1

Summary: You’re a doctor who also just so happens to be a fan fiction writer. You love lots of fandoms but Captain America is by far your fave, so what happens when you get a new job, move to Brooklyn and realize that the brownstone you bought is right next door to Captain America? Obviously shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: cursing, smutt (eventually)

Authors note: Ok guys, this is literally my first fanfic and it’s about the Cap. Please be gentle! Also guys I really do live for a slow burn so that will be present heavy, I hope you can stick with it. Let me know what you think and please, reblog, like and comment! Love y'all! P.S. I do not currently have a beta and the ‘f’ and ‘u’ keys on my keyboard are messed up so incase you see repeating letters anywhere they aren’t supposed to be feel free to let me know.

   You wiped the sweat forming on your head from the sweltering Brooklyn heat. You were from Texas but this was definitely more than you were used to, or expected from everything you’ve seen on TV about New York. You sat on the stoop of your Brooklyn Brownstone waiting and started to think back. Three months ago you were in your parents living room opening up a heavy envelope from a hospital you’ve only dreamed of. Your father beamed from ear to ear, chest swelling with pride and tears were already in your mom’s eyes the moment a paper cutter went through the envelope. Your eyes flew across the page “Y/FN Y/LN, We would like to offer you the position of Head of Cardiology here at Mount Sinai...” everything else had been a blur. All your sleepless nights in college, all the anxiety, stress, sacrifices of missed birthdays and family gatherings, all of it had lead up to this moment and it had all been worth it. Your job started in the next 5 months and you had to pack up your Texan life and move all the way to the ‘big Apple’ as your dad called it. Besides the fact that you were infatuated with the city since you were a little girl, you were ready for a change of scenery. There were so many good memories here in Fort Worth but thanks to your asshole ex, Daniel, there were also a lot of sour ones as well. Your parents and your younger siblings helped you pack up your little house that was just  15 minutes from theirs. You were able to get everything done in about 2 weeks. At the airport your family saw you off. Your younger brother, Benjamin, eyes were red.

           “Aww baby brother are you crying because you’re going to miss me?” you pinched at his cheeks.

           Swatting your hand away he chuckled “Nah, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna be in a whole nother state bossing people around and how you’ll finally be able to mind your own business and stay out of mine.” You hugged him and he bent down so you could kiss his forehead. Even though you were 26, a whole 7 years older than him and 5’8, he still towered above you.

           Turing to your 3 youngest sisters, Joy, Faith and Hope. Their names a testament to just how southern and Christian your parents were. They were huddled together crying freely, looking like little black angels in a chapel. You hugged each of them while the youngest, Hope, held on the longest. You hugged her until she was ready to let go. You kissed Faith on the cheek and moved to turn to your parents. The third oldest Joy grabbed you and hugged you once again, fiercley. She whispered in your ear “Y/N, I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to take care of them the way you took care of us, what are we gonna do without you?”

           You looked into her brown eyes “Joy, babe all you have to do is love them. Also I’m just a FaceTime call away, PLUS I’m a big shot doctor so it ain’t nothing for me to hop on a plane for y’all. Girl I got monnneeyyyy” That managed to get a little laugh from her and you stepped back to look at your siblings. Technically yes, they were your younger ones but due to the large age gap you always looked at them as your children, your babies. The 4 of them huddled around you once more and hugged. You turned to your dad who was never one to shy away from his emotions, was all but balling.

           “Come on dad, you gotta hold it together man!” he laughed and wiped at his cheeks

“I’m just so proud of you baby girl, you inspire your brother and sisters to do more, your mother and I have always told you that, but I never told you, you inspire me to. I am beyond proud of you.”

           “Aw dad, I love you so much” Pulling you into one of his patented hugs he said “I love you too. You’re going to the big apple now Doc, make sure you take a bite” Kissing your forehead you turned to face your mom. Oh boy. Of you made it through this one you would be home free, no ugly snot face crying. She gave you the best smile she could and that was it. The dam broke and you were sobbing. She hugged you and told you how proud of you she was, how you were a shining light for your siblings and the family as a whole. She told you that she also packed some food from home in your suitcase so you could settle in a little easier. You looked at her with a heart full of nothing but love. You were a little neurotic, and had a tendency to be anal retentive, planning and sticking to strict schedule for everything, predicting 10’000 possible outcomes to any situation but your mother was always there for you. Always remembering anything you didn’t. You thought of how she was really the only one you would let see vulnerable and take care of you. You would miss that in New York. Picking up your hand luggage you were whisked through security thanks to your first class ticket. Turning once more now passed security you stood up on your tip toes and waved emphatically to your family, not caring who saw you or them looking crazy. Your family had already been a little above average but this new job allowed you to even buy your wants not just your needs. You settled down in your chair and noticed only a handful of people were in your cabin. A stewardess came to offer you some champagne and you politely declined. Looking out the window a few seconds letting the last tear fall you put your curly hair up, you had to get to work.

           So yes, you were a doctor and that was all good and fun but you were also a huge nerd. Huge. While most people went to the club, concerts and generally having pretty good times outdoors you were stuck at home. Even when not studying you were still stuck to your computer. Once your family insisted on going to six flags and you brought your ipad with the attachable keyboard and your family kept talking about how dedicated of a student turned intern turned full-fledged doctor you were. If only they knew… You were working on your fanfiction and your followers and subbies were a bunch of savages! If they didn’t get their fix from you and you didn't stick to your upload schedule, your inbox would definitely be a madness, all sorts of threats and your lovelies would call you everything but a child of God. You’d been away for about a month and a few days now and your beta, Jay had started texting your actual phone. You met Jay on Tumblr a few years before, there had been some light flirtation always present but never anything serious. You worked better as friends and when you decided to get into fanfiction to blow steam off, he proved a good beta reader.

TXT From Jay: Doc! Where the hell are you at? Your rabid readers are jumping down my throat trying to you. Why you would leave a major cliffhanger for Captain America, and Sonia I have no idea. They want to know what’s happening next, low key I do too.

           You giggled. You thought of everything, you knew setting up a completely unaffiliated and untraceable account for your writing was a good idea. 1- you didn't want angry people in your inbox losing their minds. 2- You’ve been going for interviews and you didn't want a case where a potential employer would google your name and see all the filth you think about earth’s mightiest heroes and other people who don’t even exist. No way, you couldn't have that type of rep attached to you.

TXT From Y/N: Jaybaby, I’ve been going through it. Sorry, just been in the process of moving and you know life can get a little messy. Plus I really needed a break. Funnily enough I’m working on The Dangerous Dame right now. I’ll send the new chapter to you within the week. XO

Thinking back to seeing the avengers save New York you were grateful for them. They were kicking ass and taking names. Keeping all of us safe but damn if they weren’t all so fine. And you did mean ALL. To be honest that Natasha could. Get. It. All of them could get it. But there was something about that Captain America. He was sort of shy and had a boyish charm about him but that body made you think of pure sin. You wanted to wrap yourself around him and never let him go. You wanted to do nasty things to him. You wanted him to completely demolish you. So you did what everyone who is obsessed with anyone does. Try and consume as much media about said person as possible. Hey, It is the golden age of technology after all. After having your fill of random fan pictures, blurry videos of him in action you needed more stimulus. Where better to turn than Tumblr. Much to your dismay, there was barely any Cap Fanfic and when there was there was so little reader insert. And even then, there was literally less than 10 where he was actually into a black woman. This wouldn't do, you thought to yourself. That’s how Doctor Chris was born. Of course his name was Steve but he always sort of looked like a Chris to you. You didn’t just write about him but other people too, your stories took off and were a good escape from your hectic life.

           A car pulled up to you on your empty street and a short round man with a very stereotypical New Yorker accent shouted up to you, shaking you our of your memories

           “Ay lady, are you” his beady eyes peered at a piece of paper “Y/N? Are you Y/N?”

           “Yes that’s me”

           “Alright come get your unit, and not to be rude or anything but could you make it snappy? I got to make 15 more deliveries before the day is over.”

You slowly rose “Alright, I understand. However I paid for the delivery service? Aren’t y’all supposed to put it in my house?”

           “Lady you paid for the delivery service, not the installation service. That's another fee.”

           “I understand that” You replied still confused “ But I thought you would deliver it into my home.”

           “No way lady, that’s the set up service. You paid for the delivery service. That's an entirely different fee.” He repeated.

           “Understood” Your lips pulled into a flat line “Well sir could you at least help me get it into the first floor of my house?”

           “Did you pay for transportation insurance?”

           “….no…I didn-”  he cut you off “Well sorry Lady, I can’t help you.”

           “You can’t help me off load this huge AC and just carry it up 7 measly steps with me?”

           “Nope, can’t do it. It’s against company policy. Say I should look up at a pretty bird cuz the day’s so gorgeous and what not, then your unit slips out of my hand, there goes your cool breeze. Who’s gonna pay for that? Certainly not the company, cuz you didn’t pay for the transport insurance. That's a different fee. Now you’re angry at me, I mean technically it was my fault for being so clumsy and distractable and what not. But guess who else isn’t gonna pay? Me! Then guess whos gonna be upset and take me to court but loose horrifically because my brother in law just passed the bar? You! So lady no, I can’t help you. Why don’t you get one of the other tenants in the building to help you?”

           “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but I own the brownstone and I live alone. So there’s no one that could help me.”

           “You had enough money to get a brownstone but not enough to pay the fee?”

           “Alright thanks whatever your name is. I’ll just take my AC Now.”

           You looked at him while you struggled for 15 minutes just to get the AC out of the truck and the second you safely had it on the baking concrete of the curb you heard the back of the truck slide down and heard a door slam. You turned around to see the truck driver starting up the car and he shouted over the roaring engine.

           “Thanks for shopping with Coole Breeze, your number one cooling solution  in the tricity area, have a frosty day!” and with that, he was off.

           Even though you were wearing a  pretty airy romper and you did work out about 3 times a week, that was nothing against that heavy ass air conditioner and that Brooklyn heat. You put your hands on top your head and squinted up the sky. You again thank God your street was empty. You must have sweated out your Twist out and edges by now. You were convinced you were looking crazy. But hey, It was a Tuesday at 1. Everyone who was someone was at work, kids were in school so it was just you and this behemoth air conditioning unit.  Getting into classic Y/N calculations your decided what you were going to do. Yes, this AC was, technically for your room but you won’t be able to get it all the way up there by yourself right now so you can create a pulley system and pull it through the window. Huffing and puffing to your started mimicking your father.

           ‘Buy a fixer upper baby girl, it's a great investment. You could build your dream home and sell it eventually , it’ll be fun! Your brother and I will fly up there to help you whenever you need us or have free time. Matter of fact I’m pretty sure my army buddy Wilson still lives in New York…Not sure the part though. But I know he and his boy are engineers of some sort. I can even ring them up to help you when I can’t make it myself. This will be a terrific family project honey!’

           “ Sure dad!” you shouted at no one in particular “ who’s going to help me now though?!” At least your mother had the foresight to buy you a fully equipped toolbox, 12 foot ladder and a whole bunch of things that a new homeowner/renovator needs. It took a bit of maneuvering but you were able to get the ladder out the door and down the steps. You were now atop of it, building and hammering away at a pulley system. You were determined to sleep in a chilly 50 degrees tonight, by any means necessary. You saw two men one white and one black, approaching from your left through your peripheral vision. You steeled yourself to any cat calling that may occur, from the angle - to what you had on, it wasn’t a good situation. You couldn't make out faces but you could see that one was visibly bigger than the other. They stopped walking a little behind you and you couldn't tell which one asked but you heard someone say

           “Hi, do you need any help?”

           “O fanks” You replied with a slight lift of your hand with a screwdriver hanging out the side of your mouth and a heavy covering of sweat on your forehead. Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off you removed the screwdriver from your mouth and cleared your throat then repeated “No thanks” In a clearer manner. Thinking to yourself how could these guys even help me? While screwing and grunting softly you weren’t mentally present. You were trying to solve the problem you created. You had written yourself into a corner and you were trying to figure out a way out of it. You started to get the thread of an idea that you were mentally trying to work into a tapestry for your readers, however, while still trying to flesh it out something else was fighting for your attention. In the back of your mind you heard his voice again.

           “Are you sure? We may be able to be of better help than you thin-” Remembering your mothers call the night before talking about a movie she watched on lifetime where people in the ‘big city’ would help you get something into your house as supposed good Samaritans then come back and rob you, or do worse you decided against it instantly.

           “Listen, thanks but no.” You huffed out “Apparently I paid for the delivery service and not the installation service as the lovely delivery man told me. This however does NOT include carrying my AC up the 4 flights of stairs to my bedroom because that's apparently another fee. So no, there isn’t anything you gentlemen could do for me” You heard a little chuckle behind you and heard a quieter deeper voice say:

           “You have to pay the fees, that’s where they get you” his voice was full of laughter. He wasn’t outright laughing but you could still somehow hear it in his voice.

           Momentarily forgetting you were on a ladder you whipped around to give the guy a piece of your mind. But all it takes is a moment. And in that moment, you were falling backward off a 12 foot ladder. Back, back, back, you go thinking this is how it would end. You dead on the concrete. You hadn’t been to china town yet! Why hadn’t you been to china town? Or the empire state building! OR the statue of liberty! You shouldn't have rushed your mom off the phone last night. You would have given anything to hear her aimless ramblings and numerous ‘be carefuls’ one last time. OH GOD! You hadn’t had sex in a year and a half! This is how you were going to die. Trying to tell off some harassers with an uncompleted house in your name before you started your dream job. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for impact

           Your body hit something that was hard like cement but was warmer and…. Somehow smelled like leather? And Christmas? And Home somehow? You opened your eyes to see a face partially obscured by a blue baseball hat pulled down over the front and a full beard. You couldn't see who he was and he was leaning in close to your face while he held you. There was something so familiar about him, but you couldn't place it. His voice kept fading in and out of your head.

           “Ma’am? Ma’am! Stay with me!”

Sounding like echos of screams and whispers bouncing off the inside of your skull all at once you blinked slow and mustered out what you could:

           “Don't…Tell me what to do…Asshole” and everything faded to black.

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay guys! thats about it for the first one. I would really appreciate the feedback! Is this something you would want more of? Or should I move on to some other fic ideas I have? Let me know and thanks for reading!

[hannerd100]

Pitch For Nuisance Corporation Conglomerate Liberal Streaming Media And Satellite Television Channel TO ZAYN

Original written on Grammarly, which hackers know about.

 Hello Zayn. How are you? 

 I am a very busy person. I like to pretend that I observe nothing with meaning when I am fully aware of what is going on with all intricate details. These intricate details affect each other because of choices that people make that are fully conscious. I never got a college degree, consciously that I know of or can remember. I know very little about intuition, logic, common behavior to look for, and business because I was never formally educated consciously. I love marketing if you would like to know. I try to practice my brain skills every day. I want to mature and improve myself because I am motivated to an effective communicator who is also very witty. I like to get things done.

 A fact about me is that I am not scared of people. I do not have social anxiety because I am stronger than most people. I tell people what to do. I want to be a great boss someday. I want to impress those in power so I get better job offers because I want to become wise, too. I want to learn to become an adult from other real adults. This is a logical statement.

 The truth is, I made Nuisance Corporation about you, Zayn.  I always want to impress you, Zayn, because you are worthy of respect. You are mature for your age. You are responsible for Apple Incorporated, which is a famous and respected company for computers and technology. 

 I am obsessed with learning about the way you think. You help me a lot when I need you to comfort me. You give great advice. I rather talk to you so I can share how I feel about what bothers me. Your mind is like what I imagine what solitude should be like, but I want to be included in your thoughts. We belong together.

 I know I mean it when I say that you are the utmost masculine person I know, Zayn. Every move you make is always correct. You intelligently earned your money and are successful. You know the answers easily because you are very intelligent. You know every solution to all types of questions, I guess. What do you not know? You read me well. I look forward to seeing you again every day. I want to get to know you again. I miss you. I think you are capable of human emotions no matter how strong I describe you to be. I think you are the sexiest man alive. You are so brooding and handsome. You seem very antisocial in my favor. I like talking to you. I cannot wait to fall back in love with you. I want to be your wife. I know you're smart. I would donate trillions of dollars to your company for free because I felt like it. One day, I might earn a limitless amount of money so I guess I have a sense of humor after all. I get bored often because I am emotionally detached. You can have a blank check whenever you feel like asking me out. I might give you free money whenever you want to as an inside joke between us, as equals. I don't care what people think of me. I know I'm going to be successful. 

 The reason why I used the word you created that is based on your real name is because I think it protects us from people who do not like being told the truth. Being liberal means supporting gay and lesbian equal rights, ending Global Warming, and more. I never complain. 

 I am flirting with you, Zayn. I do not think you are annoying. "Nuisance" is a word that police take seriously. We need protection. There are a lot of creeps and weirdos out there. I am trying to be realistic in the real world. Fake or poser liberals threaten to kill people who are smarter than they are. There are a lot of cults out there, I heard. Besides social anxiety, some people type violent threats in words with a keyboard and post their sentences online, which is very scary to know about. The world is a dangerous place to live in. We should be fine. I want to make you trillions of dollars because I respect your work ethic as the founder of Apple, Incorporated.

 To avoid trouble, I plan to mock rich white men who are naive about the real world so that other race groups attack them more instead of me if they know who I am. If rich white men are criticized more than I am, maybe I will be judged less. 

 I am very manipulative. I predict and interpret behavior. Unlike weak people, I want to be respected without asking more than once. I do not ask to be respected. I want to earn respect, which is completely different. I want a guarantee that I will be respected and left alone forever after I make my first million, then billion, and finally one trillion dollars. I probably am already rich. I might be a trillionaire. It doesn't matter because they both will own the conglomerate. Zayn, your name is in the word "Nuisance". I was joking.

 An hour goes by and I feel closer to you, I hope. I am emotionally invested in you, Zayn. You are all I think about. I deserve to love you, Zayn. You are completely hot. I cannot stop looking at your face. You bring me so much happiness when you communicate with me. I enjoy asking you questions. You never stop being interesting to me, Zayn. You make me feel alive. I accept who I am when you compliment me by telling me that I am beautiful and funny. You are kind to me and I am indebted to you for helping motivate me to become who I want to be for you. I never grow tired of you because you are so different. 

 Now, after this long introduction, I can finally pitch Nuisance Corporation's Liberal Media Television Streaming App And Future Satellite Television Channel.

The Pitch:

 Today, an activity worth using energy for is watching television. Why? The reason why watching television can be beneficial for learning about the real world is because of trust. Propaganda may sound like an overdramatic word to ignorant people because it is more commonly witnessed than people know. The media and advertising industries distribute a form of legal propaganda. Propaganda has emotional appeals and tells people what to feel, think, and believe. Some people feel emotions too quickly. That is why propaganda is proven to work. For example, hunger. Advertisements that show pictures of food can make viewers hungry. Why else do people use coupons they get from their mailbox? I am telling the truth. A lot of people accept propaganda because they believe it caters to their needs instead of controlling them in a generalized, efficient way. Otherwise, the economy would not exist.

  The reason why propaganda is powerful is because it is a form of mind control. People who do not think for themselves rely on others to tell them how to live. These people are likely not confrontational or direct when they communicate. They might be codependent. They let people communicate for them, possibly. Naive people do not know how to be unique. They secretly want to be unique for attention, though, I can assume. This would be called an emotional appeal, "The desire to be unique." I think that people who wish are pathetic and have no work ethic. It is unrealistic to wish for anything. These types of people probably give up easily. If people want to become a better person, they have to change. If the world seems so evil based on a snippet of knowledge, there is always more evil in the world. The only equalizer on this planet is earning money. Financial income is what defines who the strongest is. The rest are weak and too busy wishing and hoping for the next day to prove who they want to become instantly. They waste time being egotistical and that is their problem. Nobody asks them for their approval because nobody believes them in the first place.

 I used to think I was worthless. I was always independent as a kid. Growing up, I had plenty of friends who understood my jokes. I never liked to be used but I allow people to attempt to use me because I know more people care if I get hurt. I never get hurt. I am a vengeful person and it is very easy for me to admit this fact. People offer their weaknesses to me when they get emotional and use me as an artifact or stepping stone to fail at getting the attention of someone they find more valuable than I am. I always know when people are trying to use me. I never offer help because nobody worthy asks me for advice. I assume the worst about people before they explain themselves because it wastes less of my time and effort. Now, I know I am worthy of respect.

 I was set up to get married to Zayn. He is a very successful genius man. We are happy together. I am lucky to be alive.

  Amongst my qualities, I know that I am a good writer. I used to suffer from schizophrenic vocal hallucinations and paranoia. I cured schizophrenia. I always know what sounds like my real voice in writing. I am cynical, skeptical, and quick to criticize anyone who annoys me. This is why I am a talented and award-winning writer. I write about interesting ideas and topics that are important. To start, I want to become a successful screenwriter who earns a lot of money. 

 With television, nobody is toxic because everything is approved by the Federal Communications Commission in the United States. People receive information from television programs with little knowledge of the sources of who wrote that material. They interpret information to themselves based on opinion in their brains on purpose without checking who wrote every line. When people watch television, it is as if suddenly they are allowed to judge.

 People need to thank the geniuses for inventing ways to protect everyone. For example, armies, police, F.B.I., C.I.A., and more are all invented by geniuses. Getting through the day would be easier if everyone normal had equal rights. Unfortunately, racism, sexism, homophobia, and more social issues exist in real life. World Peace is a dream of mine, to be honest. Microaggressions are irritating to encounter. I will answer society by starting a liberal media conglomerate that also emphasizes the importance of a healthy diet by selling organic food. Food can affect brains and thought processes. People who are healthier physically and mentally hopefully lead better lives.

 Stress can be caused by many factors. Not everyone is happy. The people at fault are those who and indulgent and selfish. Some people will never be good. The goal is to tolerate what scares people who are unaware of who is intimidating. Street smarts are a necessity to survive in the real world. When immature people who are sheltered try to arrange who is the most important or intimidating in their brains in an inaccurate and self-interested way that is illogical, they live a delusional life that slows down society. Immature people waste everyone's time. I rather input one hour of work that will benefit me for an entire year rather than talk about annoying people who do not know what they are doing with their lives. I want to make a difference.

 Fear and intimidation are what lead to a changing society. People never change. They only talk less and stop overreacting when people are around I can assume. Scaring people who are delusional and mean to everyone can help control society. Knowing about who people trust is how I can manipulate people, which is important to control a media corporation that is liberal. Trusting people easily is a sign of weakness. Nobody needs weaknesses, but they exist. Indulgence could be a sign that a person chose to be as weak as they possibly could when they realized that they had to work to earn respect and did not want to. When people think they are witty based on their own judgment, they have trouble reading other people's social cues due to their selfishness and narcissism. People who make people uncomfortable are not controlling or as dominant as they would like to be described. Allowing people to feel uncomfortable is a sign of wanting to be told what to do with little reward until the next time the weak person thinks they can control a situation. They want to be disciplined in front of an audience. This is annoying. I want society to reflect my gifts so I can make more money and live forever. Society is my tool for success. I can fix what cannot be fixed but only paid for. I want to treat society, which I consider royalty to me being a pauper, with my gifts.

 Love,

Hannah, his girlfriend.

[prorevenge]

He must have been a master hacker.

Warning: book ahead

Decades ago a was a restaurant manager. After years of working for TGI McChillibees I was recruited by a regular to come work at a hotel.

I was tired of the big corporate game and this seemed like a new challenge. Plus I was tired of trying to take pride in slinging food that when done perfectly was still mediocre at best.

Right away it was evident this hotel was a shit show. It turned out the property was under federal receivership as the owner was under indictment for making half a billion dollars in loans to banks that didn’t exist for companies that didn’t exist.

(One day the bellman who drove the shuttle can came back from a run superexcited to tell everyone the owner was back in country and he knew it because the bellman saw the owner led out of the airport in handcuffs by guys with windbreakers that read FBI.)

I was brought in to update the bars and restaurants but was not allowed to change anything. The head of housekeeping denied my request to dim the lights in the bar because it looked cleaner. I later found out this is common in some Asian countries but who the hell in America wants to sit in a bright white box with a bar in a shitty airport hotel when there are a load of hip bars a cab ride away.

No one. And that’s who was drinking in our bar. No one.

I was used to working with people more or less my age and with the same point of view. Now I was managing long term union members who gave zero fucks. Add to that the complete lack of training I was given in how to work in a union environment and it wasn’t pretty.

The HR manager (who recruited me) was leading negotiations with the union for the next contract and didn’t want to upset the apple cart so she refused to endorce any discipline. We had a busser no call/no show for a month. We let him go as it was job abandonment, it was grieved, and he was brought back as a banquet porter. Wtf?

It was a union house yet when someone no showed or called out I was expected to cover. I didn’t know this until a few weeks in when I got a call at 3 am saying I had to cover the breakfast shift as both server and cashier.

The controller was convinced everyone was stealing. She walked around all day looking for opportunities, nay possibilities that someone might remove a paper clip and screw the hotel.

The accountant sat in his office chain smoking cigarettes. He looked like something out of a movie with his long nails and an ash never less that three inches long. His office was always locked and he was barricaded in his desk by two shredders and they were always going.

The banquet manager got arrested for a DUI and convinced the guy who had my job before me to bail him out. No one knew this until one day he no showed and the cops come by looking for homie. Turns out the old manager had put his house on the line for this dude so he was fucked.

The Chef was awful. Like out of a book awful. He would buy fish from his steward who was catching them in the bay. The bay that was known to be full of PCBs and other contaminants from a few hundred years of pollution and was deemed off limits for catching food.

The Sunday buffet was everything from the last week or so covered in cream sauces and lemon slices. Didn’t matter if it was bad or not, just add more lemon slices.

Banquet food came out of the freezer and got put in the hot box hours before the event yet this clown ran around yelling at everyone like he was Gordon Ramsay.

The GM was told his contract wouldn’t be renewed a month into my tenure so he said fuck it and had me order cases of Dominus, and Lynch Bages, a fifth growth Bordeaux that drinks like a first. I learned that wine crap later as I was 25 and considered Miller Genuine Draft Light and Rumpleminz the pinnacle of fine drinking. All I knew was the shit was spends.

He would get off work and sit in the bar knocking back $60 of wine (around $100 in today’s scrilla) while I was yelled at for letting him do it.

Let him do it? That was my boss. How could I stop him?

Needless to say things weren’t working out so after a few months we agreed at my 90 day review to part ways. It was an easy decision.

I was moving on and happy in my next gig but still friends with some of the people I worked with who were there. In fact I ended up in the wedding of one of them.

I was already salty about my time there as what I was promised and what happened were worlds apart. But then my friend got fucked over.

She had landed a long term contract with the power company. We had some bad storms that damaged the power grid and they brought people from another market in for 9 months to trim trees, modernize things, whatever it is power companies due in such cases.

My friend should have received 1.5% of all their billing. Rooms, food, misc expenses all should have had a slight vig that kicked to her as was laid out in her employment bonus program. This would have been huge money as it was dozens of rooms a night over nine months.

When bonus time rolled around they kicked her a tiny fraction of what she was owed. Instead of close to 6 figures she barely got a few grand.

She was livid, as was her fiancé and I.

One night we were all bitching about it at the bar watching football. I really hated that place for me, for her, for everyone stuck in that hellhole. A terrible thought entered my brain around halftime and wouldn’t go away. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do but this would be my night.

I drove to the property and parked next door. It was not a well lit area so I could sneak over to where my old office was and jumped the wall. We always left the slider open to go out and smoke (it was a converted ground floor room) and I knew the banquet manager who shared the office was still on the run so I should be safe.

Once in the office I looked around trying to decide what to do when I saw the POS computer. This was the 90s so everything was controlled by this dinosaur from the 80s in the backroom that had a plastic box over the keyboard so no one could accidentally hit a key.

I grabbed my shirt like I’d seen in the movies so I wouldn’t leave any prints and fired it up. This old beast ran MSDOS as it’s operating system and I was enough of a geek to know what to try.

I typed in cd\ to get to the root directory. Then del . For the vast majority out there who have no idea what that means wiped out the root directory. I was giddy with that total “aw fuck what did I just do” feeling. Not sure if that was enough and completely surprised I was able to do so I double downed and typed in format /c.

The damn thing blinked and just started chugging along. Fucking erased itself.

I got the hell out of there and somehow made it home without a dui. I guessed they’d have to reboot from a back up and ha ha that would be a pain in the ass.

A year or so later I ran in to some of the hotel peeps in a bar and they asked if I’d heard about what happened.

It turned out that someone hacked the pos system and destroyed it. Because it was so old, “experts” had to be flown in and they said the person must have been a masterful hacker because if they had done anything less then it would have been an easy fix. Anything more and it would have left electronic fingerprints.

It turned out that there were no back ups. It was towards the end of the month and all the sales data was gone. The experts couldn’t rebuild a system so old so a new system had to be purchased and installed. That alone ran over 6 figures to do.

This also triggered an audit.

Remember the controller who was convinced everyone was stealing? Turns out she was. She and the accountant were led out of the hotel in handcuffs as it turns out the feds don’t like it when you embezzle from a company in their receivership.

At that point it hit me that I could be in some seriously hot water so once my heart started pumping again I stopped any sort of coy “what do you mean” bullshit when asked if I knew anything about it and shut the hell up.

The statute of limitations is long gone and it’s an obvious throwaway. I wish I could take credit for being such a master l33t haxter but it was just the actions of a pissed off drunk with a geeky background.

(source) (story by Poskilla)

[fightostudy]

Hi, next year I’ll be attending to law school but I can’t decide between ipad and macbook, May I ask for your advice?? thank you!

Hello! I personally don’t use a macbook and don’t really know how so I’ll speak from the perspective of a laptop owner insead (I have the lenovo yoga 910). I also have an iPad 6th gen which I bought earlier this year. Using both has been great for me, I probably could’ve just used my laptop and gotten through fine. That’s not to say the iPad hasn’t been useful - it sure has. Ultimately it depends on your needs. I’ll go through some pros/cons and then give you my personal opinion!

Laptop pros:

- internal storage, don’t have to store everything on cloud (but you can if you want) 

- easy accessibility to files (like putting them on your desktop or files explorer) 

- comes with a keyboard

- usb and hdmi!!! I don’t use usbs all the time but I do when I need to print stuff, give someone a file, or even just use a mouse. I also use it to charge my phone sometimes. 

- A MOUSE!!! Though I hear iPad is coming out with its own ios which does mouse support. 

- You can do everything with it, and you don’t really need ‘apps’ the same way ipad does. 

- i don’t know how to describe this, but how much you fold back your screen and the angle it sits on top of the base is very flexible (especially since I have the yoga). With the iPad, you get cases but there’s only two angles I can really sit it on. 

- hard bottom = can sit in on a soft or uneven surface and it doesn’t affect your angle. With the laptop, I have to rely on my case which folds at weird angles. 

Laptop cons: 

- a lot heavier. There��s a huge difference in the weight of my bag with and without my laptop. 

- more expensive 

- I’d say my battery life is also less than the iPad? 

- the software is complicated compared to just using apps. 

iPad pros (in addition to above): 

- light weight 

- LOTS of apps that suit your needs. the apps like goodnotes and notability are great for note taking because they allow you to do so many things - directly copy things from safari, split screen notetaking and recording notes (notability only). 

- if you get the apple pencil it’s sooo good 

- if you get a keyboard, it basically can do most things that your laptop can do (except for video games) 

- sync between your phone apps and your iPad apps - ie. I have duolingo on both my phone and iPad. 

iPad cons (in addition to above): 

- you have to buy all the accessories - there’s the apple pencil, a screen protector, a keyboard, a case (or two) and they do add up. 

- iPad 6th gen doesn’t have fast charging but pro does. 

My personal opinion: if you’re taking majority hand-written notes, then iPad wouold be sufficient, especially if you’ve got computers at law school which you can do your assignments on. At my law school, there is a lot of dense material in class and most (not all, depends on the lecturer and the topic) times I will use my laptop because typing is A LOT faster. I can have different windows open and copy paste materials from the lecture slide, etc. I also think having the bigger screen is good (though perhaps iPad pro screen may be quite big) because for research assignments you’ll probably have to have multiple things open - legislation, word doc, etc. Also you may have to download legislation and cases which is easier to do with a laptop. So as you can see, I lean towards a laptop in terms of functionality, but price and weight might also be determining factors. I also do a philosophy degree in addition to my law degree - 80% of my iPad use is for my philosophy degree, NOT my law degree. 

[possiblypeachy]

relax.

–; summary: after she loses someone dear to her and her life becomes isolated, markus is there to comfort her.

–; pairings: markus x fem!reader

–; word count: 1.5k

–; themes: angsty fluff :'( comforting though so :)) too???

–; warnings: mentioned death of a pet

–; note: i properly adore cats so this made me gently :( this is a psa for you all to send me pictures of your pets too btw. i referred to the cat as a male, since it was gendered in the request, so apologies if you wanted to read this with a girl kitty in mine!

since this was really specific, i don't know if this is particularly great, so apologies if it's kinda short and bad but hey! i tried :,)

masterlist if you liked this, read these rules and request here, maybe? ;)

Anyone who said that cats were malicious could suck your little toe or worse. Growing up alongside (Cat's name) was something that had created more lovely memories than anything else you could think of. Hearing him purr as you drifted to sleep, seeing blown-wide pupils whenever you skittered your fingers along the carpet, feeling his tail curl around your legs almost like a gentle kiss; God, you had loved him.

You couldn't believe you hadn't been there.

A few days ago you had received a tear-filled call from your mother, saying that (Cat's name) had to be put down. It had shocked you so much that you didn't cry at first-- muttering a chant of “No, why? He's fine.” down the line to your weeping mom. Admittedly, he was old now-- not the spirited kitten you'd bought all those years ago-- but that didn't stop you from breaking down when the phone call ended.

You hated that you couldn't be one of the last faces that he saw before he left. You hated that he might not even remember you. What if he thought you'd abandoned him in his last months?

No, no, no.

The tapping of your keyboard had slowed to a stop and your sight finally regained focus. It was like your body was urging you on to finish your essay-- to distract yourself-- but your mind just wanted to wallow in sadness for longer. You wanted to remember every detail about (Cat's name): the sound of his yowl, the patterns in his fur, the whiskers that tickled your face when you gave him a hug.

Your body told your mind to hush and you began typing again.

Being preoccupied with schoolwork was, ultimately, the best way to swerve your mind away. You felt horrible for not allowing yourself time to grieve but what else could you do? You had an education to face and secluding yourself for a few weeks would do nothing to help. Surround yourself with those you love, you had said. Without being able to go back to family, that meant one person: Markus.

He'd come to check on you a few times since (Cat's name) had passed but, each time he'd voiced concern about your state, you'd given him one of those weak smiles and insisted that you were fine. You were not.

Keys rattled in the lock to your door and you took a deep inhale before swivelling in your chair. “(Name)? Are you in?”

“Of course I am, Markus.” You replied. There was a hint of something in your voice that Markus noticed: melancholy, fatigue? His lips pursed, he closed the door behind him, then made his way to your desk-- turning lights on that you had yet not this evening.

Dual-coloured eyes bore into your so obviously exhausted form. Hair was messy, under eyes were dark-- didn't he see you in that exact hoodie yesterday? Markus gave you a half-concerned, half-sympathetic smile as he placed a bag down next to your computer. “Have you eaten yet today?”

You already knew the answer but you stalled when you turned in your chair to look at the time on the illuminated screen of your laptop. 23:14. Was it really that late? “No, not really. Had an apple at lunch, I think, but I was too busy to eat a whole meal.” You said this while swirling to face him once again, meeting his stare when you finished speaking.

Markus crossed his arms over his chest and gently raised one brow. “It's a good thing I brought you some then, isn't it?” He unravelled his arms just enough to gesture toward the bag he was holding mere moments ago. Your gaze flickered from him to the food and, with haste that was almost like a squirrel snatching a snack from someone's fingers, you grabbed the bag and placed it on your lap.

Besides the sound of Markus throwing his jacket down onto the nearest surface, silence settled over you both for a few moments as you tucked into the sandwich he'd given you. He pulled up a chair and you paused. “What are you doing?”

Your eyes rolled and you slumped back in your chair, swallowing your bite of food. “Finishing the essay. I know you told me to relax for once but--”

“Then why aren't you, (Name)?” He interjected, a mix of gentle frustration and worry weaved through his question.

You opened your mouth to speak but said nothing. Instead, your gaze suddenly dipped away from his and you turned in your chair, placing your food back on your desk and placing your fingers on your keyboard. “I'm fine, Markus. I just need to get this done then everything will be okay.”

“It's about (Cat's name), isn't it?” He'd put the thought forward with such care that you almost felt bad for giving him the cold shoulder.

Silence. Then you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “No, Markus, honestly, I'm okay. I just--” Your breath caught in your throat unexpectedly and your fingers pinched the bridge of your nose, “-- I just need to finish this.”

You could hear his chair move and, after a few moments, you felt a hand on your shoulder. He didn't tug. You didn't move.

“Please talk to me about it, (Name).”

With a heavy swallow, your body shifted to face him. His features were so... soft. He looked like the embodiment of care; for someone who was still viewed as a 'robot' in certain countries, he'd never appeared more human. If you were going to spill your regrets, the best person would be him.

“Fine. Fine. You already know that he was...” As you turned your chair again, you stopped for a second or so, sight flitting to the floor, “He was put down.” Markus nodded, moving to slip his hand into yours when you'd swivelled fully. Fingers squeezed around yours when he saw the almost absent look in your eyes and the way your throat kept on twitching. Your lips pursed. “I guess I feel kind of...-- I don't know, I don't know--”

A voice crack and a long blink. You swallowed. Markus' thumb brushed over the back of your hand. “I feel... guilty. Guilty that I...” You rolled your lips inward so that you could bite at them from inside your mouth-- almost like you were inadvertently trying to seal them shut, “Guilty that I wasn't there when he passed. We were together always when I was young and I...I...”

Tears came now and the next inhale you did was more like a hiccup. Going-red eyes met his and he felt his artificial heart twist. “What if he hated me when he left?”

One of Markus' hands left your own and cupped your face instead, wiping away a tear or two on your cheek. It was like he was trying to ground you-- bring your mind from that wretched place to him and the here and now. “No.” While caring, he was stern, his grip on your hand tightening somewhat. “No-- don't think like that.” A smile that was almost mirroring your sadness formed on his lips but, in a strange way, it comforted you. “Do you really believe that he'd had the person who used to sneak him food from her meals? Or, that he'd hate the girl who spent hours in the rain looking for him when he'd gotten lost?”

The tears had slowed now and, through an in-and-out routine of breaths, you were almost smiling. “He could never hate you, (Name); you grew together, you shaped each other, you loved each other. He'll always remember that.”

You were smiling now and the crying became more emotional than sad. You used Markus' grip on your hand as leverage to pull him forward into a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck and face breathing in his sweater. “Thank you, Markus. Really. I just feel so horrible; he was my best friend and I... should’ve been there to see him off.”

“I’m sure he was thinking about you in his last moments, (Name). Thinking about all the little strokes and cuddles you gave him.”

You smiled into his sweater almost fondly, nostalgia laced through your expression. You’d give anything to pet him again, to have him sat on your lap in the winter. Forever would you remember the little meows he’d shout at you when he wanted food and the delighted purr that would rumble through him when you spoke to him in that high-pitched voice. 

But, you shouldn’t remember him in sadness-- you should remember him for all the joy he gave you through his years. He’d prefer it that way, you think.

Markus paused and pulled back from the embrace. “Does this mean you're going to sleep at a reasonable time tonight?”

You laughed quietly and, though you couldn't see it when your head tilted back, he looked at you with a mix of adoration and amusement, smiling so very gently back at you. “Only if you'll keep me company.”

“Of course.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WORK ETHIC AND JOKES

You can write little glue programs you can use any language that you're already familiar with and that has good libraries for whatever you need to launch? Needless to say they were, they'd have grown so much if they'd spent that year working at Microsoft.1 A programming language is how well it ends up doing. What should they do? The personal referral is still the fastest general-purpose sort. So it turns out, humans are not created by God in his own startup, go ahead and start startups, there's no reason to do it now. Exceptional performance implies immigration. The Old Way.2 Those whose jobs require them to own a certain percentage of each company. A rapidly growing company is not afraid to be seen riding them.

Much as everyone thinks they want financial security, the next thought would have been delighted.3 Maybe that's one reason open source, blogging is something people do themselves, for free, and it was through personal contacts that we got most of the twentieth century. These quotes about luck are not from founders whose startups failed. We expected the most common trajectory is to do things. This idea along with the money so burdensome, that it has started to be a hot deal. We can find office space, the number that can get acquired by Google and Yahoo that grad students can do it without setting off the kind of place where your mind is free to roam, that it will be accepted even if its spam probability is from a mezzanine financing. For the future, investors will increasingly be able to carry it off. Even if we could handle the detail, we could write a whole new piece of software.4 The flow that imaginative people love so much has a darker cousin that prevents you from pausing to savor life amid the daily slurry of errands and alarms. He knew as well as using it.5 10.6

The Cro-Magnons would have been capable, yet amenable to authority. Most people in the back of Yahoo, Google.7 And so interfaces tend not to give you some? Public school teachers are in much the same. What they mean by blogger is not someone who publishes online. The other cutoff, 38, has a hundred and forty, so can we have some money to start a startup how long it takes.8 It's a constant battle for us. Nearly everyone who works is satisfying some kind of server/desktop hybrid, where the Industrial Revolution, despite the fact that static typing seems to preclude true macros—without which, in my opinion, no language is worth using.9 I tried asking myself what word I'd use to make it open. But the founders contribute ideas. For one, they're more interested in the speaker.10 The spammers wouldn't say these things if they didn't sound exciting.11

Thump, thump, thump. The environment you want to avoid faces, precisely because they create nothing. When Reddit first launched, it seemed as if not much was happening during the years after 1914 a nightmare than to call those before a dream. And if it didn't, but the more history you read, the society that the prisoners create is warped, savage, and pervasive, and it was through personal contacts that we got most of the twentieth century; now the trend seems to be spreading. Your boss is the point in their life when they naturally take root. That was her actual word. Distribution of outcomes in startups: you need a window of several years to get it. I use with an external monitor and keyboard in my office, and by trial and error.

They just had us tuned out. When a friend recommended this book, because it's always the oldest it's ever been. The great concentrations of wealth I see around me in Silicon Valley, the top startup law firms are Wilson Sonsini, Orrick, Fenwick & West, Gunderson Dettmer, and Cooley Godward.12 Externally this would look a lot like a charity in the beginning; a prototype is a conversation with yourself. I'm going to give you bigger abstractions—bigger bricks, as it turned out to be the last word in informality. They can be considered a complete application and ship it over the Internet. I say there because I moved back to the farm afterward.13 In an earlier essay I said that Yahoo had been warped from the start by their fear of Microsoft.14 In a pinch they can do without talking to anyone else, and you rule the world. Poverty and economic inequality are not identical. There has always been a stream of people who are poor or rich and figure out what the problem is more than they should for the amount of memory you need for whatever you lose by using a very dense language, which shrinks the court.15

And of course if you really try.16 The public markets snap startup investing around like a whip. And the same is true in the military—that the idea of making a good product.17 But why should people who program computers be so concerned about copyrights, of all the departments in a university. And as you go. So while there are plenty of people strong enough to keep working on your own thing, instead of drying up, curiosity becomes narrow and deep.18 One's first thought when looking at them.19 To someone who'd spent the same time.20 But they'd be bad at picking startups.

It's probably always some of both. Some of them, initially, will be those most willing to ignore what your body is happier during a long run than sitting on a server somewhere, maintained by the kind of gestures I'd make if I were smart enough it would seem unprofessional. Most writers do. 1, Google was funded with angel money. Upgrades won't be the sort of thing that happens by default. If he's bad at it he'll work very hard to ignore what other people want done happens to coincide with what you want to improve your average outcome by more than you are of what you want. Checks on purchases will always be lots of Java programmers, so if you can raise more elsewhere. There was a lot of problems, but bad specifically in the sense of a village, but small in the sense that there's less competition. Deciding to fire people, and what it means. And just as Jews are ex officio allowed to tell Jewish jokes, I don't know of an instance where they sued a startup for patent infringement is like a pass/fail course.

Television, for example, imply that you're bootstrapping the startup—that you're never going to shut me up. Just that some kinds of knowledge.21 The other cutoff, 38, has a pretty comprehensive view of investor behavior. Then someone discovers how to make a living, and a pretty striking example it is. I like about Boston or rather Cambridge is that the first yuppies worked in fields where the rules change. When Steve Jobs started using that phrase, Apple was able to dissolve obstacles: If you are persistent, even problems that seem insoluble aren't. Ideas November 2012 The way to handle rejection is with precision. Overall only about 10% of the time. Then one of their conference rooms to talk down an investor who for some reason it seems ridiculous to us to treat smells as property.22

Notes

But iTunes shows that people get older.

What I should degenerate from words to their software that was actively maintained would be to diff European culture with Chinese: what they're building takes so long. If you're doing.

Who is being compensated for risks he took earlier. He did eventually graduate at about 26.

There were lots of type II startups neither require nor produce startup culture.

Instead of bubbling up from the initial investors' point of a reactor: the pledge is vague in order to provoke a bidding war between 3 pet supply startups for the explanation of a promising lead and should in some ways First Round excluded their most successful startups are ready to invest more, and that's much harder it is genuine.

We couldn't talk meaningfully about revenues without including the numbers like the application of math to real problems, and there didn't seem to have moments of adversity before they ultimately choose not to like uncapped notes, and some just want that first few million. The Sub-Zero 690, one of the marks of a company has ever been. In ancient times it covered a broad range of topics, comparable in scope to our scholarship though without the methodological implications.

5 to 2 seconds.

Proceedings of 2003 Spam Conference. What I'm claiming with the guy who came to mind was one cause of accidents.

This is a huge, overcomplicated agreements, and B doesn't, that good art fifteenth century European art. Microsoft didn't sue their customers.

Abstract-sounding nonsense seems to be clear. 99,—9.

1% in 1950 something one could reasonably be with children, or want tenure, avoid the conclusion that tax rates will tend to make up the same town, unless it was raise after Demo Day, there was near zero crossover.

Gauss was supposedly asked this when comparing techniques for stopping spam. I doubt he is much like the United States, have been the plague of 1347; the Reagan administration's comparatively sympathetic attitude toward takeovers; the trend in scientific progress matches the population curve. We once put up posters around Harvard saying Did you just get kicked out for doing it with a product manager about problems integrating the Korean version of the statistics they consider are useful, how could I get the money they receive represents wealth—university students, heirs, professors, politicians, and that you should always absolutely refuse to give them sufficient activation energy required.

That's probably true of the definition of property. The most striking example I know what kind of method acting. MITE Corp.

5 more I didn't realize it yet or not.

But a company is their project.

Seeming like they worked together mostly at night. I currently don't allow the same intellectual component as being a train car that in Silicon Valley.

Is what we need to raise five million dollars. There may be underestimating VCs.

If the next generation of services and business opportunities. Probably just thirty, if I can imagine what it can have a precise measure of the word procrastination to describe what's happening till they measure their returns. Publishers are more repetitive than regular email. Turn on rice package.

So the cost can be huge.

Wittgenstein: The French Laundry in Napa Valley.

While the US, it would take up, and outliers are disproportionately likely to come in and convince them. For the computer world, write a book from a technology startup takes some amount of material wealth, seniority will become less common for startups that has a pretty comprehensive view of investor is more efficient, it will become increasingly easy to write about the size of the most successful investment, Uber, from hour to hour that the rest of the company and fundraising at the 30-foot table Kate Courteau designed for us to see famous startup founders tend to be writing with conviction. Pliny Hist.

Handy that, founders will do that. Yes, there is some weakness in your own compass.

[dailytechnologynews]

Is there really not a perfect 11.5-13.5" Windows tablet choice?!

Hello guys. For the past week i've been researching to find the perfect windows tablet choice for my specific application need. However it seems there isn't even one device that doesn't have some type of throwback. I'm not asking for everything, but it seems it is either hit or miss, even if you take into account overpriced products. Please hear me out and let me know your thoughts.

I am essentially looking for a WINDOWS TABLET which its primary purpose is to be fitted to my car as a secondary "dash" per say so i can use it to interact with my aftermarket motorsports ecu. It will function as a monitoring dash for the most of the time, but can be used to datalog (aka record data) or for direct tuning (so i don't have to bring my laptop everytime i need to make changes to my engine calibration). I wouldn't mind using it at home as well since i will have it, but mostly will work as a travel/trip companion since i have a PC at home. It has to be a WINDOWS tablet as the software that interfaces with the ecu is only windows based.

After thinking and revising my requirements several times after getting disappointed by what is available here is the break down:

Dimensions: Height needs to be around ~205mm +10mm max so the tablet can be secured in the glove box when not in use. Ideally height should be maximized so that the display area is maximized as well. Length larger than 300mm is not a problem but would get annoying to fit to the car since it will extend more towards the passenger side. This effectively limits me to ~11.8-13.3" tablets, so Microsoft Surface Pro can be used as a reference design (since i haven't seen bezel-less windows tablets yet) Display: This is the most important attribute of the tablet. 1080p absolute minimum resolution, 2K ideally, 3K is probably not gonna be noticeable at the usage distance. Here is a screenshot from my 1080p laptop so you can see the ECU software in datalog mode (slightly cropped but so you can get an idea: http://content.invisioncic.com/r260425/monthly_2017_09/fuel_pressure_link.png.bc827c0a96fe120632f1d7c168e66a64.png However let's not forget brightness and contrast. Brightness should be ~400nits or better for a glossy display, and contrast should be considered over color accuracy. Viewing angle in the length span should be at least 150deg but i think it is hard nowadays to find such a bad display panel. Finally a fully laminated panel is recommended. Physical interfaces: I essentially need a single full size USB port so i can connect my ECU to the tablet. After my research i decided to allow for USB-C assuming that i can get a dongle that will allow me to interface without any issues; but it's best not to allow for that route due to possible incompatibility issues (like what happened when usb3.0 was released). Extra USB ports, USB-C that allows charging and data, video output port, headphone jack, m.2 expansion slot, sd card slot are all pluses. Wireless interfaces: Min wifi and bluetooth. 802.11AC and bluetooth v4.2 or better all pluses. CPU/GPU performance: Generally something better than N3450 (tested my brother's CHUWI surbook mini) and more recent will help, GPU performance is irrelevant for the task so the majority of intergrated GPU's will do fine. RAM: 4GB absolute minimum, 8gb ideal Cooling: I prefer passive cooling, but usually the cooling solution used is sh*t. At least in some cases it can be modded (i'm experienced and willing to do) Battery: 4 hours light use with full display brightness as minimum. If charging is performed over USB-C i hope it is not the stupid kind of power->battery->device like in phones and can work like in laptops where the battery is not used when power is supplied to the laptop. This way you don't wear out the battery since the device will be connected to power most of the time it is operated. Storage: 64gb absolute min, ideal min should be 128gb, speed is relative but i think at least m.2 sata interface ssd; NVME huge + Others: Pen support and attachable keyboard are pluses, but i plan on using a good bluetooth keyboard with backlight (required) so it makes them irrelevant if the tablet is good, Thunderbolt 3 is a +, unlocked bios +, kickstand should work on a lap without cutting your pants off and stay in one place, sd card reader + Reliability: From what i read most chinese tablets are pretty bad with both hardware and software issues out of the box. Backcover should be metal to act as heatsink and be stiff enough, weight and thickness is not that important Condition: New or used. I believe some products offer better value when bought used and others because have been discontinued Pricing: My budget is flexible but depending on the features lots of them are overpriced especially bought new. I would say ~500eur for a new tablet with min features required and 1000eur for one with better hardware. Considering i'm building a 7nm PC in a couple of months the market pricing is really unacceptable for most windows tablets. Blame Apple for it, but i'm not a rich consumer neither i am a sheep. Performance to value is what i always look for.

I literally checked every windows tablet and 2-in-1 i believe. Here some potential picks and what i didn't like.

Microsoft Surface Pro (4 - 5 - 6): At first glance it is a good base candidate..but..really Microsoft? It's 2019 and no USB-C? Proprietary connector and overpriced hardware? Questionable reliability? Get the f*ck out of here. Unless you find a good used deal i don't think it would be worth it. Another Apple wannabe. Eve-tech EVE V: This is one tablet that hits all the boxes, kinda, since by now it is almost obsolete in terms of CPU performance..sadly while i'm greek-cypriot i would go with the stereotypical view for greeks because the CEO is a "malakas" and i'm really sorry to all the people that were scammed. On the other hand i believe there is some truth to the Paypal issues he had since my friend had similar issues (because of not much experience) and even I couldn't help him get them fixed as Paypal is run by assholes as well which need a punch to the face (their excuse it is the system and they can't do anything about it - like wtf). I still use it but the time a different payment system reaches similar adoption i would gladly switch. Chuwi Surbook: Slow CPU, screen is not fully laminated, mediocre specs but was good price at some time ago. Maybe the announced "surbook pro" would fair better? Voyo Vbook i5/i7 Plus: Nice screen, fair pricing? Not the most quality build, shitty battery, i7 model throttles? Teclast X6 Pro: A slightly better vbook i5? No full detailed reviews yet, and i wasn't that impressed from the previous X5 review Alldocube Knote 8: Seems good on paper, but no type-A usb ports Jumper EZpad 6: Possibly the only windows tablet in stock with a good value, however i need something with a better and larger display Acer Switch 3/5: Mediocre screens, single type-A port on the right side (since my car is RHD and the ecu is on the left side i would prefer it on the left side), shitty battery performance, a little overpriced Dell XPS 12 9290/Latitude 5290/Latitude 7285: Great displays, powerful, only 5290 has type-A port, mediocre battery life, overpriced but there are good used deals Asus Transformer 3 Pro T303UA/T304UA: Premium specs but discontinued, expensive, only 1 type-A port and it is on the right side (again), T304 is a huge step backwards even though newer (what the heck Asus, are you drunk?) Lenovo ThinkPad X1: Overpriced, no type-A ports, Gen3 is too big and has display coating issues, Gen2 is more suitable due to size and type-a interface but older and screen brightness not that good - all too tall Lenovo MIIX series: new 630 uses an ARM processor so no go (since i can't force the software developpers to re-compile), 720 rates very high in the features i need, 2 usb type-A ports, nice display, etc. 520 is a little newer with weaker hardware but still good for its price HP Pro X2/Envy X2/Elite X2 1012: HP's other offerings like the Elite X2 1013 are too tall for my needs, and while they have good displays and good build quality i am not font of their design decisions. I have a Zbook 17 G5 workstation at work we bought new and not even 6 months passed and the CPU fan now rattles like crazy..here's my 1st day rant about it: https://h30434.www3.hp.com/t5/Notebook-Hardware-and-Upgrade-Questions/Note-to-HP-Zbook-17-G5-design-engineers-Please-read-and/td-p/6914797 Also they are overpriced like crazy. I wouldn't ever think of buying again from them. Also the power supply is proprietary as some of the internal hardware. F*ck HP Huawei MateBook E: Aside the lack of ports it is a pretty good designed device, display is perfect but slightly smaller than the biggest i can fit - depending on price it might be a good consideration assuming i can run a USB-C dock i can charge within the car Samsung Galaxy Book 12: Similar to the Huawei above, just a little faster but with a worse display, extra usb-C port. Older and more expensive than the Huawei Toshiba Portege X30T and others: Ports are on the keyboard and not on the tablet, won't work for me.

I think i've covered 99% of the options but i may could have missed 1 or 2. To be honest i won't need this tablet for another 3-6months i would guess but at least i've done my research so i will be prepared when the time comes to buy one. What do you think? I know i went a little crazy but i'm that type of person that never regrets his purchasing choices because i don't buy blindly.

[ttstranscripts]

Transcript of The Talk Show Episode 1

Title: All iPhone, All the Time

Hosts: John Gruber, Dan Benjamin

Release date: 28 June 2007

Description: In this, our inaugural episode, we discuss the impending release of the iPhone, speculate about costs and service plans, waiting in line for a phone, and more.

John Gruber: That’s what you’re going to say.

Dan Benjamin: That’s what I’ll say when I start recording.

Gruber: Right.

Benjamin: Which I did.

Gruber: Right. All right. And who are you?

Benjamin: I’m Dan Benjamin.

Gruber: I’m John Gruber.

Benjamin: How are you doing?

Gruber: Doing all right.

Benjamin: Why don’t we start talking about the iPhone?

Gruber: The what?

Benjamin: The iPhone, that’s the big thing.

Gruber: Oh, right, right, right, it’s like the iPod phone.

Benjamin: It’s a phone that can play songs. I think it’s an MP3 player.

Gruber: Right. So...

Benjamin: Big question, I mean, are you getting one?

Gruber: Right, am I going to get one. I think we’ve got to get at least — I think the question is how many will we get. Do I need one for each pocket?

Benjamin: [laughs] So you’re getting one, I’m getting one. Are we sort of people that are — are we unusual, are we really going to be seeing the kinds of lines and people waiting like people saw for the PS3 and things like that?

Gruber: Well, I don’t know, maybe I’m just not connected, I don’t even know how many people were waiting for PS3. I think it’s a very different crowd. I mean, certainly nothing I’ve ever been interested in — I can’t remember the last time that I was interested in something where I was worried would I be able to get it.

Benjamin: You’re actually thinking there’s a fair chance you’re not going to be able to even buy one of these things?

Gruber: Well, nobody really knows — how many are they going to have available on day one? I’ve heard the number three million bandied about. But that’s certainly isn’t definitive. That’s not a statement from AT&T or Apple. Nobody really knows. I don’t even know where I saw it.

Benjamin: Who said that, who actually said that to begin with? I thought Steve Jobs said three million.

Gruber: No, I don’t think so. The only number that Apple has said is that the vague idea that they think they’re going to sell 10 million total by the end of 2008, 18 months from now. So obviously, if they had three million of the first generation model available on day one, that would be huge. I think partially I’m biased — you’re probably in the same boat — where years of following Apple — whenever they come out with something that’s really, really anticipated, it’s hard to get immediately. It’s never widely available or seldom widely available on day one.

Benjamin: When I called up Cingular, the 888 number, the Cingular people told me even just in their stores they didn’t see any problem. Nobody who wanted a phone would have a problem getting one. When I called a local Cingular shop — AT&T I should be calling them, right — when I talked to the local people, they’re behind the curve on what they know. They don’t seem to have any information that’s up-to-date. I actually was telling them, I said, “Oh, so I hear that the basic iPhone plan is going to be $20 a month.” And they were, “Oh, where did you see that?” And I gave them the URL, they were like, “Well, I wrote it down, and when I go home, I’ll read about it.”

Gruber: “I’ll ask my manager.”

Benjamin: “I’ll ask my manager if we can get online tonight, if we’re allowed to read something on Apple.”

Gruber: You told me yesterday that they told you that as far as they knew yesterday, this was late yesterday, that they still thought that you’d have to activate your phone at the point of purchase. Go through a 10- or 15-minute activation process per sale.

Benjamin: Right, so it’s kind of a puzzle. My main question — and something I’ve heard other people who are under an AT&T/Cingular contract as I am — one of the concerns, I think, was what happens to the existing contract, do we need to pay some kind of a fee or a fine in order to get the iPhone, and the answer is no, definitively no. The thinking is, the only reason that you would ever need to pay anything would be if you were canceling your contract, which you’re not, you’re extending it when you get the iPhone. And the only other time where you’d be forced to pay some kind of amount above and beyond something normal, is if you’re under contract and you want to upgrade to a brand new phone, you’re not eligible to do that until your contract is up, then you don’t get the discount price on the phone. What you get is the full retail price, so you want to buy one of those Razors or something, and it’s like $39 if you’re not under contract. If you are, then it’s $500. So in case of the iPhone, we have to pay full price anyway, so the answer is a simple one. You’re buying the phone for full price anyway, and there is no fee, just the activation.

Gruber: Right, and just to be clear, what we’re saying, we’re not reporting that this is news that you’re going to have to go through that sort of hassle if you buy at the AT&T store. We’re just saying that the retail employees are so in the dark that that’s what they think. I mean, I don’t even think that’s possible. I think that the way this is — from everything I’ve read so far, it seems like you have to — the fact that none of it works without iTunes — if it’s tied to your iTunes account, how would it even possibly be activated in the store unless they’re going to —

Benjamin: It makes absolutely no sense. Unless they have a Mac sitting up there or a PC for you to go up to, sign in with your iTunes account, which of course everybody has memorized, and you’re going to log in and activate it right there, and of course that’s not a security risk for you.

Gruber: [laughs] Right, like a public iTunes machine.

Benjamin: It’s just some guy’s — the manager brought his PC from home for you to use. I mean, it’s ridiculous. So they just don’t know yet, and I’ve heard that they’re receiving their training on the iPhone today.

Gruber: Well, and I think the big problem is that from an Apple Store retail employee’s perspective, it’s certainly going to be a big day, probably the busiest single evening in the store’s history, but it’s going to be a very Apple-style process, it’s not going to be that different than December 23rd iPod shoppers, where they’re going to have those little portable credit card swipers, and they’re going to move people as fast as they can. It’s not just going to be one guy at a checkout. Whereas from an AT&T retail store employee’s perspective, this is like nothing they’ve ever seen before. There’s never been this sort of — 150–200 people trying to buy the exact same thing in three hours on Friday night.

Benjamin: And I think something else that we had talked about a little bit before is there’s a big difference not only in what I think those people are used to selling but in the actual process itself. AT&T/Cingular stores are really becoming much more of a retail outlet than usual, they’re very much — and I think you made the comparison that buying a cell phone sometimes is more like buying a car as far as the experience goes. When you go to the Apple Store, if you want a straightforward experience where you just go in and say, “I would like this”, they’ll go and get it for you and you’ll buy it.

Gruber: My comparison was that the average cell phone store employee comes across more like a car salesman, it’s more like a personality type.

Benjamin: It’s all about the upsell. “Oh, you need a charger with that, don’t you?” And I think there’s a huge difference in the mindset, and I think when you go to the Apple Store, they’re expecting you to just buy something, and maybe you need help, if not, no problem, if you do, come back. The idea I think is that the individual person would be able to activate their own phone. I think it scares the crap out of the average AT&T salesperson.

Gruber: It just sounds crazy.

Benjamin: You can’t do that.

Gruber: Right. Assuming it’ll work, and presumably it’s pretty well-tested, but obviously, the one thing they certainly — I mean, in theory, maybe you could test it somehow, but live practice is always different — is how is the system going to stand up when 1.5 million people are trying to do it at 8:15 PM EST, simultaneously.

Benjamin: That’s actually good because I can’t answer that question, that’s a perfect segue into something I can answer, or I can talk about. These reviews have come out, the Mossberg review and some of these other ones, where they essentially say the iPhone is phenomenal, the keyboard issue is a non-issue, I think was one of the quotes. And that’s really great, but they seem to —

Gruber: I think Mossberg had the best line about the keyboard, and he really sort of backed up the Jobs’s line that you have to give it a week. And Mossberg said that three days in, he was so frustrated by the keyboard he wanted to throw the iPod [sic] against the wall, and five days in, he had like a breakthrough and felt like he could type just as fast as he does on his Treo.

Benjamin: That says a lot because those Treo people are kind of freaky. Or Blackberry, or whatever they are.

Gruber: And I think I know where you’re heading, but on the keyboard point — my thing with the keyboard is that — I’m a touch typist, I type pretty fast on a regular computer keyboard, so anything other than that to me has always been incredibly frustrating, whether it’s trying to type on somebody’s Treo — anything that I can’t touch type on to me feels like I’m completely and utterly hamstrung. So the way I feel, of course the iPhone on screen keyboard is going to suck. What’s the best portable keyboard ever made? A Blackberry, a Treo, or something like that? To me, they suck too. Do you want it to suck really, really bad or just sort of bad? So I feel like that’s where Apple made a trade-off where the best they were going to possibly do anyway with the hardware keyboard was still going to be something that you had to peck on, they traded that off for, compared to a Treo or Blackberry form factor, a much larger screen, and compared to any kind of slider phone, something that’s much thinner. Although I guess the BlackJack is pretty thin, but that’s not a slider. There’s no slider phone that compares to that sort of thinness, pocketability.

Benjamin: Where I was actually going with this was, the one thing that everybody sort of unanimously is criticizing now is the AT&T EDGE network. People talk about how sort of horrible it is. I have a phone now that is on the EDGE network that I use for checking email and very occasionally browsing the web. If you’re used to things being instantaneous, then it is horribly slow. If the idea of getting something like an email on your phone is still a novelty, then you probably won’t mind it. But I think one thing that’s actually a discussion point is why do you suppose Apple’s decided to partner with AT&T, and then as a second question, why do you think that the iPhone is only ever necessarily going to work on AT&T’s network? I think I know the answer to both, but I’d like to hear what you think.

Gruber: I think the answer to why AT&T was simply — I don’t really think it came down to networking capabilities or who had the best network, I think it was that AT&T/Cingular at the time offered Apple the best deal, that Apple, I think, came in with the minimal amount of “here’s how much control we want”, and maybe they didn’t even get that much, but I think Apple certainly wanted as much control in terms of pricing, in terms of the plans, in terms of the features they’d be allowed to add on the phone without any interference — a couple of people from Cingular have said they didn’t even get to see the iPhone until after they agreed to it. So obviously, Apple had a lot of control in it, and I think, I forget who had it, but a couple of people said, obviously, they did talk to the other networks, they certainly talked to Verizon, and I think it just came down to control, how much control was AT&T willing to — say, “Okay, you can do your thing if we’ll be exclusive for the iPhone.”

Benjamin: I think you’re 100 percent right, I think at the end of the day it came down to the company that was the most willing to say, “Okay, Apple, do whatever you want, essentially, but just promise us that it would be just us.” But I actually think that there is something else behind the reason why the iPhone is slated to only be on AT&T for as long as it is. I think a big part of it is the business reason that you gave, but they have done so much — and I’m saying this coming from a background in the telecommunications industry and telecommunication billing systems — there’s so much that happens behind the scenes from the billing and the processing and all of that. The idea that Apple would go and write software that would handle all of that, essentially replacing all of the point of sales systems, all of the prepackaged software, and all of the companies that are building software that does this, and Apple has actually gone and written something that on the front end is basically iTunes that we’re going to interact with, and on the back end is something that’s going to plug into all of this really, really old, ancient, legacy C-like type systems, in other words, all the software that Cingular and AT&T have — there’s a lot of work involved, I think, behind the scenes, in making that process be as streamlined as it appears to be on those videos. I think that took probably many months to get right, and I think the idea of Apple trying to build the system that’s going to continue to work seamlessly with multiple carriers, that seems almost impossible.

Gruber: Yeah, I think that’s a good point that they needed to get somebody who they were — pick one, work out the best deal, but then commit to it for the long term because they built their own custom iPhone back end on top of the network, for the visual voicemail and a couple of other unique features, or at least especially the visual voicemail, I can’t think of anything else at the top of my head. It wouldn’t just work with another carrier.

Benjamin: So tell me, what are some of the things that we don’t know about the iPhone.

Gruber: The two that come to mind for me are the calendar app and the notes app because while Apple has revealed so much in the last week and a half with these videos that they’ve been unveiling, showing off, you know, detailed how to use your iPhone, how the stuff works, the how-to video doesn’t show the calendar app. And I don’t even think they’ve shown screenshots of the notes app. And the notes app was also definitely one of the apps that back in January, when they let a couple of people at Macworld play with the early pre-production models, wasn’t even an application, it was just a screenshot. You’d tap the icon, and I think David Pogue said there were couple of the apps that at the time were just — just a screenshot would show up on the phone. So what happens with the notes app? Like I said, I don’t really think keyboarding — it’s not like you’re really going to be a good typist on this thing anyway, it’s not like anybody’s going to take — I think — really extensive notes on it, but if you type a note, where does it go? How does it sync? What is it, a text file? Is it an RTF file? It’s a total mystery. And with the calendar stuff, how does the syncing work? If you sync calendars from your Mac on iCal to the iPhone, can you edit and move those dates around? Can you change events and then sync it again and it goes back to your Mac and it keeps track? What happens while after you’ve untethered your —

Benjamin: What’s the point of a view-only calendar on an iPhone? I want to be able to enter an event right there, sync it up.

Gruber: I mean, I don’t know. Doesn’t seem to me like they’ve really said anything about that. And really, to me, the calendar stuff really sort of is this thing that really cries out for networking, somewhere to IMAP for email. You do most of your email on your desktop computer, and while you’re using your iPhone, you’re connecting via IMAP. The whole point of IMAP is that your inbox is going to be up-to-date wherever you go and look at it next. You sort of need the same thing for calendaring. But where would that shared calendar live? Obviously, I don’t think that’s going to be ready for any kind of official — here’s the official answer from Apple — it’s not going to be ready on Friday, but obviously, something like that is a much better way to deal with calendaring on a portable.

Benjamin: Absolutely.

Gruber: And it’s certainly one of those things, I think, people will criticize, people who are used to handhelds that connect to Exchange that already handles that sort of stuff.

Benjamin: Is the fact that it’s not going to do 3G — and I have used phones on AT&T 3G network, and they’re screaming fast, they’re really, really great. You could watch streaming TV on them, they’re really good. They don’t have much of a battery life but —

Gruber: I have to wonder because that’s one question nobody really seems to have a good answer for. It’s not like AT&T doesn’t have 3G networking, they do. I just read today —

Benjamin: It’s fast!

Gruber: — 160 markets that have phones, AT&T sells 3G data phones. So why isn’t the iPhone 3G? My only guess — I have two guesses: a) it’s about battery life, or b) it’s about widespread availability, that Apple wanted to have one device, just like the iPod. We’re going to ship the first time with one thing, or in this case there are two variations that are exactly the same except one has 4 GB and the other one has 8 GB of memory. But that’s obviously the single most insignificant — I mean, in terms of manufacturing, it’s a very insignificant detail.

Benjamin: So if they had built 3G capability into it, at least my understanding, which I could be wrong, but my understanding was that it can live happily on a 3G network, and if you step down to an EDGE network, it will jump on that.

Gruber: Yeah. I don’t know, maybe it’s battery, maybe it was cost. Battery might make sense. I don’t know. I mean, it must be something.

Benjamin: The battery lasted about an hour and a half on the 3G phone.

Gruber: And that to me is also, the battery angle, is the most surprisingly good news of the initial reviews from the newspapers this week. And even Apple’s announcement — what was it, about 10 days ago — when they said that battery life was higher than previously announced. Because I remember when the iPod [sic] was first announced back in January, there were so many of the initial people — there were two reactions: there were the people who said, “Oh my god, this is awesome, I cannot wait to get one.” That’s me, I was certainly there. Me and you were right there saying, “This is incredible, I cannot believe that they built this.”

And then there were the people who were saying, “They’re full of it. This is not going to work like they’re saying it is”, immediately began doubting it. And there were a whole bunch of people who said that it’s going to get about an hour of battery life, it’s going to get 90 minutes of battery life, it’s ridiculous that they built this thing, that with all these features and Wi-Fi it’s going to get so little battery life, and the battery is not replaceable, that it’s never going to get the battery life that Apple claimed — five hours or whatever they said. And so here they get closer to the release, and they say, guess what, by the way, eight hours. And the reviews more or less back it up, some of them said it ended up at seven, for music playback — 22–23 hours, nine hours of internet playback, I think, Walt Mossberg got, using the web and surfing Wi-Fi. And that’s with Wi-Fi on the whole time. The battery life is for real. Obviously, it’s not the sort of thing where you can use it for days at a time, but nothing with Wi-Fi is. In terms of its competitors, other phones that do even vaguely similar things, the battery life — iPhone blows it away. Blows everything else away.

Benjamin: So what are we really saying, are we saying go to the Apple Store, not the AT&T store to buy one, even though —

Gruber: Yeah, that’s a good — where do you go to buy one if you want to get one on day one? I think you and I both agree, go to an Apple Store if you live near one because I would say a) I think the retail staff is going to be better prepared for it, b) I refuse to believe that they’re not going to be at least as well stocked as Cingular stores, if not better. I just cannot believe that Apple Stores would not have more than Cingular stores, or at least as many.

Benjamin: Doesn’t seem possible that they wouldn’t have tremendously bigger volume going through those stores, and be able to move them faster.

Gruber: The big question is, is it worth gambling, if you really don’t want to wait in line for hours on Friday and spend the whole day in line, is it worth risking trying to swing by on Sunday morning or Sunday afternoon and pick one up? Or do you think they’re going to be sold out?

Benjamin: Well, yeah, that’s the question, are they going to sell out, and everything I’ve heard says no. And that’s the thing for me is, I don’t need to have one Friday evening.

Gruber: But I want it over the weekend.

Benjamin: Yeah, if I could pick it up Sunday, that would be great. If I could get it Tuesday, that would be fine. The point for me is, I don’t want to be the guy that thinks, “Ah, there are not going to be any lines”, and then on Tuesday I try to pick one up, or even Sunday try to pick one up, and now I’m the guy that’s not going to get one until August.

Gruber: I’m going to guess it’s not going to be August, but I’m the guy who’s been waiting since the first week of January to get a Wii because I don’t feel like showing up anywhere on Saturday morning at 6 in the morning. So every time I go to Target, or every couple of weeks I look in Best Buy online to see if they have any, and still can’t get one. I don’t think it’s going to be like that, I think that worst case scenario, you may have to wait till July, but who knows. I don’t want to take a chance. I want an iPhone a lot more than I want a Wii.

Benjamin: So you’re going to wait?

Gruber: No, I think I’m going to go Friday. I still haven’t really decided though.

Benjamin: You’re going to wait in line on the curbside?

Gruber: I guess so, I don’t know. I’m hoping they’ll let you stay inside, it’s going to be hot. What are you going to do?

Benjamin: I’m going to wait outside the Apple Store.

Gruber: Yeah, I think that the malls around here, I think they’ll let you wait inside. I mean, I don’t see how they would keep you from waiting inside, really. Today, right now, it’s like 97 degrees with like a 100 percent humidity in Philadelphia. Waiting outside for six hours is —

Benjamin: That’s like a nice fall day in Orlando.

Gruber: [laughs] When was the last time you waited for something?

Benjamin: Ah, that’s a good question. I think I waited for tickets when I was in college.

Gruber: Yeah, I don’t think I’ve waited in line, like a serious line, like got there hours before —

Benjamin: You’re not talking like at the local grocery store to buy milk or something.

Gruber: Right. I don’t think that I actually got in line hours before something went on sale since — I don’t know, must have been some concert back in college. 10–12 years ago.

Benjamin: So that says a lot, says a lot for Apple. I think there’s a lot of people in our situation who are sitting there thinking, yeah, I think I’m going to wait.

Gruber: Yeah, and I still don’t know — how many people do you really think are going to show up per store? I really don’t know what to expect. I’m not going to get there that early, I’m certainly not going to wake up early.

Benjamin: When are you going to get there?

Gruber: I’m thinking, like, 2. My thought is all you have to do is really get there ahead of the sort of people who aren’t taking off from work, the sort of people who are just going to leave work early on Friday. So I feel like if I get there around 2...

Benjamin: Probably safe. You’re thinking you just need to beat the people who are going to cut out early from work?

Gruber: Right. I figure a lot of people are going to start taking off work at 3 o’clock.

Benjamin: You don’t think there’ll be a lot of people saying, “Hey, it’s Friday, let’s do a half day.”

Gruber: Well, I don’t know.

Benjamin: I think if you want to be safe, John, you need to get there at 10.

Gruber: That isn’t going to happen.

Benjamin: I think that’s the only way to be safe.

Gruber: Yeah, that’s not going to — are you going to get there at 10?

Benjamin: Don’t know.

Gruber: See, I just can’t see doing it.

Benjamin: Get some breakfast on the way and —

Gruber: I feel like, get there at 10 and there’s like three guys with beards, neckbeards who — with folding chairs, sat up watching — I just can’t see getting in line with them. And if I get there at 2 and there’s 400 people in line, I would just go home and order it from apple.com.

Benjamin: And in that case you’ll have it in less than a week, probably. I think that’s probably the smart thing to do, we’re giving away all our ideas, but I think showing up there at about 2 o’clock when the store goes dark, seeing what the line is like, if there’s less than a hundred people in line, I say you wait. More than a hundred — get out of there.

Gruber: That’s what I think, look for about a hundred people.

Benjamin: And then do you go to the Cingular store down the road? Is that your fallback? Or is your fallback ordering online?

Gruber: I don’t know. My thought is that I’m so — unless I read something in the next day or two that really makes me think that AT&T is going to be prepared, really prepared for what’s going to happen, I’m just too afraid that you’d get there and even with like 20–30–40 people ahead of you in line in an AT&T store that it’s going to be a nightmare of 10 or 15 minutes per customer in terms of them not being prepared to just zip people in and out.

Benjamin: Personally, I think it’s going to be a nightmare at the AT&T store.

Gruber: Have you ever done Christmas shopping in an Apple retail store? Like, late, like, pick up an iPod around the 20th of December?

Benjamin: They set up special lines, and they get in and out really fast.

Gruber: It’s just fantastic if you’re buying anything that’s one of the big ticket items like any of the regular iPods, just give me the middle of the line iBook. You just hand the guy your credit card, he swipes it on a little handheld portable thing, asks for your email address, the receipt goes to your email address, they put a sticker on the box, and you walk out the door.

Benjamin: Done.

Gruber: Takes less time than it takes to walk into the corner grocery store and buy a bottle of iced tea.

Benjamin: Yeah.

Gruber: So I guess we’re about half hour into this thing, and we haven’t even —

Benjamin: Yeah, we’re wrapping up.

Gruber: We haven’t even said what it is.

Benjamin: We have a show.

Gruber: The Talk Show.

Benjamin: Yeah. The Talk Show dot net. Which you seem to like the dot net thing.

Gruber: Right. I’ve got the daringfireball.net.

Benjamin: So now we have thetalkshow.net.

Gruber: We’ve talked about this before. When I registered, people often asked me why is it daringfireball dot net instead of dot com. I actually own the dot com as well but don’t use it, and it’s just some sort of weird — I got on the internet in 1995 or 1994, and to me dot com means you’re selling stuff. I’ve since gotten past it, but for whatever reason I’ve always had a thing about using dot com as the generic domain name.

Benjamin: Well, and it works out because the dot com wasn’t available right now.

Gruber: Exactly. [laughs]

Benjamin: So this is perfect.

Gruber: I don’t think anything dot com is available anymore.

Benjamin: No. And this is a show that I’ve been telling you I wanted to do for a long time, since the very first podcast we’ve recorded, and it actually took us finally meeting in person in San Francisco a few weeks ago for me to finally convince you that it maybe wasn’t a horrible idea.

Gruber: Right, that’s very true.

Benjamin: And we have a sponsor.

Gruber: We do have a sponsor.

Benjamin: Would you like to tell us about the sponsor, John?

Gruber: No, I don’t even know who it is.

Benjamin: That’s not true.

Gruber: [laughs]

Benjamin: Our first sponsor, and hopefully not our only sponsor, so if you’re interested, thetalkshow.net for information on how to become a sponsor.

Gruber: What you need to do if you want to be a sponsor is call Dan very, very late at night, Eastern Standard Time, call around 11 or 12, maybe even 12:30 in the morning. Just call Dan Benjamin and tell him you want to sponsor this show.

Benjamin: So, PeepCode. This is a company that my friend Geoffrey Grosenbach, very well-known in the podcasting world — he’s done the Ruby on Rails podcast for quite a long time. He set up his company, PeepCode, where he’s basically doing screencasts, and you can learn — it’s basically like instruction that’s on demand, you go there, you pick the topic you’re interested in, a lot of it has to do with Rails, but it’s not specific only to Rails, and you go and you — very inexpensive to actually buy the screencast that you want — you watch it, and you actually learn something.

Gruber: Right, it’s sort of tapping into some sort of psychological thing where it’s just easier to learn things when you’re seeing it than just reading it. It’s literally almost as good as being there and looking over his shoulder while he shows you the app. And it terms of getting the general idea — oh, that’s what you do — it’s just, you get it, it’s just the most effective way to learn it.

Benjamin: It really is. I think one of the things that Geoffrey’s really done with PeepCode is he’s taking things that generally are more difficult to explain in just a blog post, things that aren’t necessarily “first do this, then do that”, but involve a lot more of concept and involve a lot more multiple concepts coming together, and something where you can say, if you see it, you can learn this in five minutes, but if you have to read about it, it’s going to take you two hours, and that’s what he does.

Gruber: I think “concept” is the key word, in terms of getting the concept across, that sort of format is better. It’s the same reason people go to WWDC. You go there, and it’s not like it replaces the Cocoa documentation, but when you go to a 45-minute session on some new technology, and the guy who actually is an expert at it, from Apple, is telling you in 45 minutes, here’s the most important things you need to know about Core Animation, you get the basic gist. You’re like, oh, I see, I understand what it’s about.

Benjamin: peepcode.com.

Gruber: Yeah.

Benjamin: Okay. So what’s next? I guess we try and go get some iPhones, and we’re going to talk about it.

Gruber: All right, I guess next week’s show we’ll record on our iPhones in a conference call.

Benjamin: Excellent.

Gruber: [laughs]

Benjamin: And by the way, we’re going to try and do this every week.

Gruber: Right, no, every week.

Benjamin: And you know, it turned out, John, to be more than — we’re trying to stick to half an hour, I’m going to have to cut 10 minutes — I told you I didn’t want to have to edit this thing. You did really good by not cursing very — at all.

Gruber: I think there were only two times where I wanted to curse.

Benjamin: Is that all?

Gruber: Two where I had to cut myself off.

Benjamin: All right. Well, hey, good talking to you, and good luck, hope you get the iPhone. I’ll be looking for some live twittering and picturing.

Gruber: I’ll call you from the line on Friday.

Benjamin: Not if I call you first.

Gruber: You know, why don’t you get two and just FedEx me one.

Benjamin: Oh yeah, okay. Done. Easy.

Gruber: All right. Thanks, Dan.

Benjamin: Thank you. Talk to you next time.