#swiss cheese security

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

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

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

[whencyclopedia]

D-Day was 80 years ago today!

D-Day was the first day of Operation Overlord, the Allied attack on German-occupied Western Europe, which began on the beaches of Normandy, France, on 6 June 1944. Primarily US, British, and Canadian troops, with naval and air support, attacked five beaches, landing some 135,000 men in a day widely considered to have changed history.

Where to Attack?

Operation Overlord, which sought to attack occupied Europe starting with an amphibious landing in northwest France, Belgium, or the Netherlands, had been in the planning since January 1943 when Allied leaders agreed to the build-up of British and US troops in Britain. The Allies were unsure where exactly to land, but the requirements were simple: as short a sea crossing as possible and within range of Allied fighter cover. A third requirement was to have a major port nearby, which could be captured and used to land further troops and equipment. The best fit seemed to be Normandy with its flat beaches and port of Cherbourg.

The Atlantic Wall

The leader of Nazi Germany, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945), called his western line of defences the Atlantic Wall. It had gaps but presented an impressive string of fortifications along the coast from Spain to the Netherlands. Construction of gun batteries, bunker networks, and observation posts began as early as 1942.

Many of the German divisions were not crack troops but inexperienced soldiers, who were spending more time building defences than in vital military training. There was a woeful lack of materials for Hitler's dream of the Atlantic Wall, really something of a Swiss cheese, with some strong areas, but many holes. The German army was not provided with sufficient mines, explosives, concrete, or labourers to better protect the coastline. At least one-third of gun positions still had no casement protection. Many installations were not bomb-proof. Another serious weakness was naval and air support. The navy had a mere 4 destroyers available and 39 E-boats while the Luftwaffe's (German Air Force's) contribution was equally paltry with only 319 planes operating in the skies when the invasion took place (rising to 1,000) in the second week.

Neptune to Normandy

Preparation for Overlord occurred right through April and May of 1940 when the Royal Air Force (RAF) and United States Air Force (USAAF) relentlessly bombed communications and transportation systems in France as well as coastal defences, airfields, industrial targets, and military installations. In total, over 200,000 missions were conducted to weaken as much as possible the Nazi defences ready for the infantry troops about to be involved in the largest troop movement in history. The French Resistance also played their part in preparing the way by blowing up train lines and communication systems that would ensure the defenders could not effectively respond to the invasion.

The Allied fleet of 7,000 vessels of all kinds departed from English south-coast ports such as Falmouth, Plymouth, Poole, Portsmouth, Newhaven, and Harwich. In an operation code-named Neptune, the ships gathered off Portsmouth in a zone called 'Piccadilly Circus' after the busy London road junction, and then made their way to Normandy and the assault areas. At the same time, gliders and planes flew to the Cherbourg peninsula in the west and Ouistreham on the eastern edge of the planned landing. Paratroopers of the 82nd and 101st US Airborne Division attacked in the west to try and cut off Cherbourg. At the eastern extremity of the operation, paratroopers of the 6th British Airborne Division aimed to secure Pegasus Bridge over the Caen Canal. Other tasks of the paratrooper and glider units were to destroy bridges to impede the enemy, hold others necessary for the invasion to progress, destroy gun emplacements, secure the beach exits, and protect the invasion's flanks.

The Beaches

The amphibious attack was set for dawn on 5 June, daylight being a requirement for the necessary air and naval support. Bad weather led to a postponement of 24 hours. Shortly after midnight, the first waves of 23,000 British and American paratroopers landed in France. US paratroopers who dropped near Ste-Mère-Église ensured this was the first French town to be liberated. From 3.00 a.m., air and naval bombardment of the Normandy coast began, letting up just 15 minutes before the first infantry troops landed on the beaches at 6.30 a.m.

The beaches selected for the landings were divided into zones, each given a code name. US troops attacked two, the British army another two, and the Canadian force the fifth. These beaches and the troops assigned to them were (west to east):

Utah Beach - 4th US Infantry Division, 7th US Corps (1st US Army commanded by Lieutenant General Omar N. Bradley)

Omaha Beach - 1st US Infantry Division, 5th US Corps (1st US Army)

Gold Beach - 50th British Infantry Division, 30th British Corps (2nd British Army commanded by Lieutenant-General Miles C. Dempsey)

Juno Beach - 3rd Canadian Infantry Division (2nd British Army)

Sword Beach - 3rd British Infantry Division, 1st British Corps (2nd British Army)

In addition, the 2nd US Rangers were to attack the well-defended Pointe du Hoc between Utah and Omaha (although it turned out the guns had never been installed there), while Royal Marine Commando units attacked targets on Gold, Juno, and Sword.

The RAF and USAAF continued to protect the invasion fleet and ensure any enemy ground-based counterattack faced air attack. As the Allies could put in the air 12,000 aircraft at this stage, the Luftwaffe's aerial fightback was pitifully inadequate. On D-Day alone, the Allied air forces flew 15,000 sorties compared to the Luftwaffe's 100. Not one single Allied aircraft was lost to enemy fire on D-Day.

Packing Normandy

By the end of D-Day, 135,000 men had been landed and relatively few casualties were sustained – some 5,000 men. There were some serious cock-ups, notably the hopeless dispersal of the paratroopers (only 4% of the US 101st Air Division were dropped at the intended target zone), but, if anything, this caused even more confusion amongst the German commanders on the ground as it seemed the Allies were attacking everywhere. The defenders, overcoming the initial handicap that many area commanders were at a strategy conference in Rennes, did eventually organise themselves into a counterattack, deploying their reserves and pulling in troops from other parts of France. This is when French resistance and aerial bombing became crucial, seriously hampering the German army's effort to reinforce the coastal areas of Normandy. The German field commanders wanted to withdraw, regroup and attack in force, but, on 11 June, Hitler ordered there be no retreat.

All of the original invasion beaches were linked as the Allies pushed inland. To aid thousands more troops following up the initial attack, two artificial floating harbours were built. Code-named Mulberries, these were located off Omaha and Gold beaches and were built from 200 prefabricated units. A storm hit on 20 June, destroying the Mulberry Harbour off Omaha, but the one at Gold was still serviceable, allowing some 11,000 tons of material to be landed every 24 hours. The other problem for the Allies was how to supply thousands of vehicles with the fuel they needed. The short-term solution, code-named Tombola, was to have tanker ships pump fuel to storage tanks on shore, using buoyed pipelines. The longer-term solution was code-named Pluto (Pipeline Under the Ocean), a pipeline under the Channel to Cherbourg through which fuel could be pumped. Cherbourg was taken on 27 June and was used to ship in more troops and supplies, although the defenders had sunk ships to block the harbour and these took some six weeks to fully clear.

Operation Neptune officially ended on 30 June. Around 850,000 men, 148,800 vehicles, and 570,000 tons of stores and equipment had been landed since D-Day. The next phase of Overlord was to push the occupiers out of Normandy. The defenders were not only having logistical problems but also command issues as Hitler replaced Rundstedt with Field Marshal Günther von Kluge (1882-1944) and formally warned Rommel not to be defeatist.

Aftermath: The Normandy Campaign

By early July, the Allies, having not got further south than around 20 miles (32 km) from the coast, were behind schedule. Poor weather was limiting the role of aircraft in the advance. The German forces were using the countryside well to slow the Allied advance – countless small fields enclosed with trees and hedgerows which limited visibility and made tanks vulnerable to ambush. Caen was staunchly defended and required Allied bombers to obliterate the city on 7 July. The German troops withdrew but still held one-half of the city. The Allies lost around 500 tanks trying to take Caen, vital to any push further south. The advance to Avranches was equally tortuous, and 40,000 men were lost in two weeks of heavy fighting. By the end of July, the Allies had taken Caen, Avranches, and the vital bridge at Pontaubault. From 1 August, Patton and the US Third Army were punching south at the western side of the offensive, and the Brittany ports of St. Malo, Brest, and Lorient were taken.

German forces counterattacked to try and retake Avranches, but Allied air power was decisive. Through August 1940, the Allies swept southwards to the Loire River from St. Nazaire to Orléans. On 15 August, a major landing took place on the southwest coast of France (French Riviera landings) and Marseille was captured on 28 August. In northern France, the Allies captured enough territory, ports, and airfields for a massive increase in material support. On 25 August, Paris was liberated. By mid-September, the Allied troops in the north and south of France had linked up and the campaign front expanded eastwards pushing on to the borders of Germany. There would be setbacks like Operation Market Garden of September and a brief fightback at the Battle of the Bulge in December 1944, but the direction of the war and ultimate Allied victory was now a question of not if but when.

[toccata-i-voir]

your sister, dear. after you were so selfish with the information, let´s just say I found some alternative sources. and oh boy, is it juicy... I may have hated my sister at some point, but I would never subject her to such treatment. Shame on you, Mycroft Holmes

You are right to fear your Eurus, if she´s really as antagonistic as I am led to believe. Though, putting her under lock was probably one of the stupidest ideas you ever had, as it only served to make her angrier, no ?

Who are you talking about, dear? What an odd name.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

“I got it from here..” Paladin Danse X Reader

______

(This was the winner and lemme tell y’all, stormy is happy)

Whoever first warned you that expeditions into the wastes would be difficult, seriously understated just how bad it was. Of course, in hindsight it was a stupid thing to be asked for the everyday dweller who had been born in the rotting, broken world around them. A world that was not your own. This was a world that demanded you to be strong, be vigilant, be fearless..but you were so very afraid.

Every ghosting of shadows over your campsite, every slight breeze rustling debris somewhere in the distance filled your body with cold dread- especially at night.

Tonight was no different, naturally. Even strapped in armor, loaded down with enough ballistics to turn a person into something resembling a macabre slice of Swiss cheese, and a stomach that wasn’t rumbling as a horrible reminder of just how famished the wastes left you..you were still scared. However the man in front of you, just mere feet away and leaned up against a post..he was scared too. Perhaps there was some comfort to be found in the mutual fear considering as far as you were concerned, he was the bravest man you knew.

For a brief, decent moment you were able to appreciate the man you found to be a constant companion of your’s. He watched your back when you went scavenging in the remains of the old harbor, meticulously clearing out whatever building you thought looked promising, then when night fell far too fast to retreat back to a settlement, it was he who secured an acceptable shelter to sleep for the night and fortified it with his beloved power armour serving as blockade from any intruding assailants. Even so, he just wouldn’t rest.

Those familiar deep, amber eyes systematically swept the surrounding area with his vantage point out the window. It was a pattern, up for a while..down..sweep from side to side and repeat again and again. It was his training after all, keep those under his command safe in shifts as the darkness of night cloaked whatever hostiles there might’ve been.

There was something different about your beloved friend tonight, or perhaps it was more the fact you finally took to noticing it for the first time. His sharp eyes faltered in their pattern, his body was heavy against where he rested, his head even rested against the wooden post in such a manner that if you couldn’t see his eyes you’d probably assume him to have fixed off. As silly as it sounded, it was then you finally noticed the speckling of silvery grey dappling his rich black hair right above his ears and randomly in his stubble. Danse was getting old..a silly thought in itself but sure enough he was, age wasn’t something he had the luxury of escaping.

That was something only ghouls and you seemed to be able to evade. Alas, Danse was human as far as you knew. He was flesh and blood and aged as was befitting of someone of his higher rank anyways..

“Danse..?” Your voice cut the comfortable silence residing between the two of you, amazingly drawing his attention with a blink that lasted a bit too long.

He didn’t say anything to acknowledge you, he didn’t really have to anyways considering you knew he was giving you his attention by the way those sweet puppy dog eyes locked with your’s, albeit in a tired haze. Exhaustion was no stranger to you, that was even before all the abominations that had befallen your life. So it was no hard task to elucidate the mysterious shrouding of his construction.

“I…” You began to speak up, words cut short when the man in front of you stretched his neck and furrowed his brows- yawning for what had to have been the first time you had ever seen him do so in the many nights you spent alongside him.

“My apologies..” He grumbled, his voice a gentle grumble from the back of his throat- a tone that you maybe liked to imagine was what he sounded like first thing in the morning. Maybe that’s what he would sound like….no such things weren’t appropriate to entertain, Danse didn’t deserve such thoughts even if he had no way of knowing of their existence. “You were saying?” He asked, trying to be nonchalant in the way he desperately attempted to rouse his mind back to full acuity.

You couldn’t help the right press of your lips when you took in his exhausted state. He was always the one to protect, maybe now it was time for him to be protected- if only for a moment.

With an abrupt clear of your throat, you gathered your bearings and rose to your knees from your sleeping bag. After the initial jolt of feeling your blood pressure drop out from the sudden shift to an upright position, you were quick to grab your gun and meet him which thankfully didn’t require much movement in part of the less than spacious shelter you found yourself in. Of course, seeing you stumble even that small bit made your beloved companion scoff under his breath, the tiniest curl of his lips just barely breaking his helplessly tired expression.

“Let me take watch, just for a bit.” You offered, your gun slung over your shoulder and a smile on your equally weary face. Naturally, the stubborn Paladin had every intention of dismissing the offer..however your free hand clasping over his bicep in a gentle grip that shocked the both of you extinguished whatever fire he had about him. “Go rest, I got it from here..” You certainly didn’t..but you’d try for him.

He sighed, looking outside the window then to the sleeping bag. The exchange of glances allowed you to see how the light flickered from the lantern across his features, illuminating not only his freckles but also his newly acquired purple bags under his eyes.

Strange, you didn’t know someone could look like they were kissed by both the moon and the sun.

Deciding his exhaustion would only be more dangerous in the long haul, he buckled with little additional persuasion. “Thank you…I appreciate it. If anything goes wrong, I mean anything..wake me up. I don’t care if you believe it’s just the wind, I mean it.” He instructed, a worried chew of the inside of his cheek enough to signal to you that the apprehension may be for more than just fear for your lives..he knew how afraid you were of the wastes even after proving to be a capable fighter. Perhaps there was more though..

Once you nodded he was quick to finally go lay down, a joint or two of his popping on the way down which only made you chuckle as quietly as you possibly could as not to embarrass him. After that, it didn’t take long for him to fall into a light slumber- leaving you to gaze up out the window and into the vastness of the dark night.

You were afraid..but tonight you’d put your fears aside if it meant he could get some rest.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

*Jade enters to see if the rumors of a certain fox beastman entering his dearest bird’s nest was true. Unfortunately for him, the sight of the two from Playful Land was, indeed, real. He whisks a startled Miss Raven off to the side with a fake smile.* Hello my dearest…would you please tell me why you have such unsavory characters brought here? Would you like for me to remove them right away? I shudder to think what would happen if they overstay their welcome and take further advantage of your precious, kind heart. *He bows low to look you straight in the eye* It would be my pleasure to be your bodyguard.

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Jade’s lip curled as he surveyed the state of the attic.

Normally Raven’s space was already a cluttered mess (“It’s not a mess,” she would often argue. “Don’t call it that. It’s organized chaos.”). It had somehow managed to devolve since he had last (ahem) “invited” himself over. Her book stacks had been knocked over, stains of a non-ink origin decorating loose papers.

A thin, hard mattress had been laid out across the room from hers. Upon it, Fellow and Gidel lounged, happily digging into plates of food they had secured from the cafeteria. Crumbs and other loose bits scattered around them—sure to attract ants. They had kicked their shoes off, exposing socks with holes like swiss cheese (Fellow’s big toe poked out).

Their belongings were hastily shoved into a corner pile. All mismatched, patched up clothes and the bare essentials.

How slovenly.

Jade returned his attention to the quivering young lady before him. Miss Raven stood at a stature much smaller than his (so much so thar he had to bend down to meet her at eye level). She stood up straight, the feathers in her shawl puffing. It was a bird’s attempt at intimidation, as he had come to learn.

“They are my guests. I have willingly taken them under my wing, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t interfere.”

“Oya, such kindness and generosity.” He grinned, revealing two rows of sharp, pointed teeth. “You truly are your uncle’s child.”

“Coming from you, that doesn’t sound like much of a sincere compliment.”

Jade chuckled softly. A large hand landed on Raven’s head, playfully ruffling her hair. “I say this out of concern for you. Both you and I are aware of your… tendency, shall we say, to fall for crocodile tears and pleading.”

“Thanks for the tip, buddy,” Fellow called from his seat. He spoke with a mouthful of roasted chicken. “But we’re all good. How’d ya think we wormed our way in here to begin with?”

“How dastardly of you. This fellow is quite dishonest, isn’t he, Miss Raven?”

Fellow stopped chewing. “… You NRC brats never change, hmm? It hurts to be gossiped about and have kids sling mud at my pristine reputation.”

“Pristine reputation? Pardon me, but I seem to recall a mass kidnapping and shady dealings with the criminal underworld.”

“Hey, you’re pretty shady yourself so I don’t wanna hear that outta you!!”

“J-Jade…!” Raven sputtered. “Are you TRYING to fuel the fire?!”

“Fufufu. I’m afraid that, as a merman, this concept of ‘fire’ is foreign to me. I haven’t the faintest clue what you may be referring to.” Jade folded his hands together and took another bow. “… However, if you feel unsafe in Fellow-san’s presence, my bodyguard services are still an option on the table.”

H-He most definitely is provoking Fellow-san on purpose! Then once Fellow-san explodes, Jade will rush in and play the part of savior…!

“I will never, EVER come groveling to you for help,” she insisted through her teeth.

A cruel laugh cut through the tension.

“Looks like you two lovebirds have a lot of feelings to sort through. By all means! Don’t stop on my account,” Fellow jeered with a smirk. “Giddie and I could always make do with free entertainment you go along with our meal.”

Gidel glanced up from the barbecued rib he was gnawing away at. Mild confusion swam in his droopy eyes. It seemed he hadn’t been paying attention for the last several exchanges, only tuning in when his name was mentioned.

“W-We are NOT a live soap opera for you to watch! And nor are we lovebirds!! Lovebirds are small parrots,” she corrected him with a frown, “and I am a raven.”

“I’m certain he was referring to another definition for the term,” Jade suggested, trying to be helpful—or intentionally infuriating.

“N-Nonsense…!”

Fellow rolled his eyes. He leaned over to Gidel. “… Is it just me, or are these two already arguing like a married couple?”

Gidel blinked at him, befuddled.

“Eeeh, never mind. I’ll explain it to ya when you get older. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the show!”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚖 - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸

Warnings: +18, adult content, semi-erotic content, harsh language, dub-con, mild psychological torture, yandere vibes, slow burn.

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton, @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic, @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @adamjf , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch, @whenimakeitshine1234, @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore

Chapter 1

“But first” Claudio squeezed the flesh of her hip, making sure to apply enough pressure to make her feel his trimmed nails sinking into her skin. 

It was a silent warning, she could feel the harshness of every word underneath his deadly grip. She would have to be careful with this one, he wasn’t completely under her spell as Mox was. And even though Yuta was dangerous, he was a minor one compared to the bald man. 

She could see it in his eyes, as Claudio slowly released her flesh, that he wouldn’t think twice before hurting her. 

And if she’d like to have any sort of advantage over these men, she would have to get at least two of them on her side. 

“Let’s have our snack before it gets cold” Claudio grinned, his dark eyes sparkled with knowledge and a fake warmness that was meant to give her a false sense of security. 

She knew that look all too well, being familiar with it ever since she was a child, she could sense it from a mile away. This one was smarter than Yuta and Mox together.

This one was going to be responsible for putting her acting skills to the test. 

Claudio had brought them two grilled cheese sandwiches, a cup of coffee for himself, a cup of orange juice for her, and a small bowl of chopped fruits. Strawberries, kiwis, red and green grapes were the ones she could spot on the top of the porcelain bowl. 

She slightly frowned, these were not only all of her favorite fruits but it was also intriguing to her how they had managed to find kiwi in her town. 

The fruit is typically grown in temperate climates with mild winters and warm summers, and that was the exact opposite climate of her town. 

All of the times she craved to eat the exquisite fruit, she had to drive at least 3 hours to the closest state with a temperate climate so she could find the sweet yet tangy-tasting fruit at the grocery store. 

This was odd, to say the least. It was either an indication that they were distant from her town or that the men who kidnapped her came from somewhere far from where she lived. 

“Do you like kiwis?” Claudio asks, suddenly curious about her apparent fixation over the fruit. 

“Yes,” She nodded, momentarily licking her lips in order to try to fake a nervousness. “It’s one of my favorites…I haven’t eaten it in a long time”

“Well, ain’t today your lucky day?” The smile on Claudio’s lips was spine-chilling, like an owl’s hoot on a winter night. A bad omen for what was yet to come. 

Her eyes found the deer’s head on the wall once again, it whispered softly to her, humming a familiar tune over and over like a broken record. 

She felt it before she could see it, the sweetness followed by the tanginess and slightly acidic taste of the fruit against her lips, her eyes darted down to Claudio’s fingers, which held the piece of fruit against her bottom lip. 

The once-friendly flavor now tasted hostile, aggressive, malicious, and venomous. The man before her had poisoned it with his touch, and nausea began to rise up her throat. 

Staring at the Swiss man who was now face to face with her, she watched as his tongue darted out to collect the juices of the green fruit spread across her lips. She felt it, the warm and rough texture of the muscle tasting her skin. And before she could rationalize what had happened, the man whispered “Lay down”.

Her eyes fixated on his as he spoke:

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and for each correct answer I’ll reward you with some of your favorite fruits” Claudio smiled widely “Let’s begin”. 

The winter wind blew against her wet skin, prickling and burning her delicate flesh. Uncontrolled shivers run through her entire body, a sharp pain constricts her lungs and pressure begins to install itself in her chest, making her already shallow breath become weaker with each drag of breath in.

Her eyes tingled with the unshed tears and her throat burned with the desire to scream through the howling wind.

“I can see your tears from here, dytyna. You’re not fooling anyone” Mykola laughs, pulling a long drag of his cigarette as she screamed at the top of her lungs “FUCK YOU!”. 

The temper tantrum only served to make her father’s right-hand laugh louder, his combat boots sank into the snow as he squatted down, “Are you feeling better now? Good, now control your emotions from now on. You’re a smart kid, but you let your mind take over and that’s a terrible mistake. The last thing you want is to be your own enemy, got it?”.

She nodded weakly before Mykola snarled “I asked if you got it”

“Dobre, ya zrozumiv.” She answers, shaking violently as another harsh gust of wind hits her wet skin.

The Ukrainian man tossed the cigarette bud on the snow before helping her stand up from the floor, “Let’s get inside, we’re done for today”. Placing a thick blanket around her body, Mykola opened the back door of the warehouse and pushed her inside with him. A fluffy navy blue towel covered her head as he carefully dried her hair, “Can we go near the fire?” She asked with trembling limbs.

“No” Mykola softly pushed her down to sit on the old armchair, “You’re hypothermic, if we do that you’ll die. We need to warm up your body slowly, we’ll stay here for now, and as time goes by we’ll move closer to the fire”.

Mykola “Myko” Kolavenko was her father’s right-hand and her bodyguard ever since she was a child, he was the closest she’d ever get to a fatherly figure, and most of the time even being referred to as so by her. When she was 4 years old, Myko wanted to introduce her to martial arts as a way of discipline and self-defense, but her father completely forbade “Men are supposed to defend and fight, not women! I don’t want her to become a tomboy, Myko. She will fit the role God created her for, which is a woman who will be a wife, a mother, a nurturing figure” Was her father’s first and last statement about the subject.

After finding her in the kitchen crying over her father’s response, Myko sat beside her on the table, dried her tears, and whispered “Your father didn’t let us train your body, but he didn’t say we can’t train your mind”.

“What do you mean?” She looked up at him, hope written all over her innocent eyes.

“Means you’ll be able to beat me at poker” Myko winked, which made her giggle.

The memory made her smile and from the armchair, her eyes now settled on his wrinkled face. “Do you think I’m able to beat you at poker now?” She joked, teeth chattering as Myko placed another heavy blanket around her body.

The man chuckled, pulling an old chair in front of her so they could seat face to face, “Absolutely fucking not. At least not yet, you still have a long way to go before I even allow you near a poker table”.

“Why?” She frowned

“Because I don’t want to lose money” Myko winks with a smirk. He grabs a whisky glass and fills it to the brim with the amber liquid.

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to do it, Myko? To control my mind, I mean. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck like it’s all for nothing. I don’t think I’m having any progress at all, and it’s fucking frustrating”.

Myko took a big gulp of the whisky and let the all too familiar burning feeling settle in his throat. “Training the body is easier than training the mind. After a few years of training you kill the receptive nerves of pain in your body and well, you become basically painless. Meaning it doesn’t distract you anymore, someone can punch you in the face and it won’t shock you or disorient you. Now the mind is way more problematic because it’s in constant change, as you grow older your mind and perception change and you have to adapt to a completely different reality. Compare yourself from 6 months ago to now, you’ve changed so much in here” Myko tapped her left temple, “And it will happen again 6 months from now, so you have to be able to adapt to everything, dytyna, because you never know what’s going to happen. The reason why I put you outside on a winter night in Kyiv and wetted your skin is to start to accustom your mind to be in uncomfortable and under pressure sceneries because that’s when your whole system becomes alert. Emotions appear all at once, your mind races due to stress, pain, and despair, and you either shut down or do something really stupid that will have catastrophic consequences so you have to learn how to act during times like this.

“You will register your feelings, your thoughts of despair and agony, but they won’t be what drive and guide you anymore because you’ll control them not the other way around. That’s the most valuable lesson you have yet to learn, divchynka. Control your mind before it controls you because if that happens, you’re doomed. Completely fucked”.

Myko grabbed another glass of whisky and filled it with the equivalent of two shot glasses, he handed the glass to her and she frowned in confusion. “It’ll be our secret” He winked as she took the cup in her hand.

“Here’s to not being completely fucked” Myko clicked their glasses together before smiling fondly “Happy 16th birthday”.

“Thank you” She smiled back, a hint of sadness hid behind her soft smile, “And thank you for not letting me spend today alone…it means a lot”.

“You can always count on me, dytyna. Even when I’m not there”.

And as the warm tears rolled down her cheeks, she felt Myko’s arms pulling her closer to a tight embrace.

Would Myko be proud of her? Not only of the adult woman she became but mostly of her approach to what was currently happening? Would he be proud of her Machiavelli-like persuasion, of her theatrical skills, and what about her ability to be cohesive? If he could see her now would he applaud her choices or curse her through her less appealing tactics?

“Everyone can lie, dytyna. But a valley is what separates a liar from a good liar. And a bridge is what separates a good liar from a magnificent liar. And that’s who you’re aiming to be: a magnificent liar. To a point where no one, not even me, can tell apart a truth from a lie”.

And that she had successfully achieved, if there was one thing she had learned from Myko from a very young age was to be a terrific liar.

That is her advantage over the Swiss man before her, he can have the wits and the strength, but she has the biggest advantage of all time: she knows how to lie.

[sidewalk-scrawls]

I get where you're coming from here, but from a development perspective, there are reasons why having more uniform systems are good -- It makes applications far easier to debug and makes development far less labor-intensive. If anything, developing for a single OS makes systems *less* prone to errors because there are fewer possibilities for variation. There are a lot of cross-platform development tools that are essentially made to mimic a single environment for this reason.

To be clear, there are a lot of problems with Microsoft, including the ways they've stifled open source development as well as their tendency toward being litigious toward competitors. I do not like this, and in terms of OS, I prefer to use Linux where possible.

However, based on the information we have so far, the fault in this situation is not with Microsoft. Instead, it seems to be primarily a result of poor Q/A practices on the part of CrowdStrike, as well as what I would personally consider a *far* too high level of confidence with automatic updates within vital sectors.

Losing my mind at this reply on that CrowdStrike post:

WHAT ELSE WOULD THEY BE USING???

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You)

First posted: January 25, 2019

Focuses on: Jason Todd and his various siblings

Favorite bookmark: "A variety of permutations and flavors of Robin h/c featuring Jason! The Baskin Robins of BatFam h/c, if you will."

Second favorite bookmark: "and so, step by step, the prodigal stray coaxes himself home."

Tier: #3 in hits & kudos & subscriptions, #4 in comment threads, #2 in bookmarks

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Individual chapter notations below the cuts.

Chapter One

First, to note, the title came last and is from "Hey Brother" by Avicii because it was already on my BatFam playlist and gave me strong sibling feels, so it worked!

Okay if I remember correctly, this fic came about because 1) I had jotted down story ideas, all surrounding Jason, that were all just a bit too similar for me to feel comfortable doing them as one-offs, and 2) it was late 2018 when I start writing so I was deep in 5+1 IronDad fics.

This fic was so deeply indulgent from start to finish, which I think might be why people liked it so much? Like, if you're into the tropes into this fic, you're really into them. It scratches the itch just right, because it's my itch and I wrote it for me.

The plan was to do like I did for my other multi-chapter fics (except Nature and Nurture, RIP me) and write it all out before posting anything, so I could be sure that I would actually finish. I don't have that kind of self-restraint anymore. But it was a fun challenge to figure out what should happen to whom and in what order.

Jason didn’t sleep much anymore. He’d always been a rough sleeper, his years spent in low-security public housing and then on the street grinding away at his ability to rest with ease. He slept lightly, his consciousness skimming just below the surface, ready to spring awake at the softest noise.

As I've said before, sometimes I have an idea for a fic but then, when trying to start it, a sentence pops up immediately as my opener. That's always a wild ride because sometimes it seems to have nothing at all to do with where I want to go, so then I have to backtrack and figure out but why tho????

Moving to the Manor had helped some, after he’d assured himself that no one was going to scratch at his door or steal his shoes. The cold mornings had been the best, spent curled under a mound of the softest blankets imaginable atop a mattress so perfectly contoured to his bones that it’d felt like floating on the surface of a pool. He’d slept, truly slept, at the Manor.

I like the idea of, even at Jason's most toxic and vitriolic, the Manor itself still representing safety and comfort. Maybe sometimes he would twist it into stifling or grossly indulgent, but I think deep in his stomach he would know that distortion was a lie. The Manor was safer than anywhere else, even with his mom.

Those days of rest were long gone. The Pit had done a number on his brain—intensifying and altering his emotions, erasing some old habits and dialing up others, leaving dark chasms where memories should be.

I've seen other fics play with the idea of the trauma of Jason's injuries, death, resurrection, and the Pit all combining to some degree or another to swiss-cheese his brain (a phrase I lovingly borrow from Quantum Leap.) And that of course leaves a bunch of really fun room to play with—how much does Jason know he's missing vs. how much is gone or totally distorted without him even being aware? (Again, another thing I tease out in various fics like N&N.)

It was like someone had jammed a stick in his skull and given his brain a good stir. Or maybe that was just the crowbar. Ha.

I made myself snicker with that one. It's so voiceily Jason but also that ha is so guttural and specific in my head, you all will never know.

He was making progress with his budding criminal empire—splashy progress, as displayed on the crusting cuffs of his sleeves and the splattered toes of his boots, but also more subtle progress, too. The subtle form was harder, so much harder, but he knew its changes would be more permanent, in the long run. Splashy got people talking. Subtle got them bowing.

Jason! Todd! Is! No! Thug! He is smart and cunning and uses violence to make an impact and that's that on that.

And though he’d heard her speak before in the careful neutral of the middle-class, the sounds being beat out of her now were Crime Alley crooked.

I like the idea of Steph and Jason growing up in the same neighborhood. It's not a hill I'd die on, but it makes for some interesting fic.

The girl put up a good fight. She was rough, no finesse, no real training. All knuckles and elbows and feet and knees. He spotted some of the Bat basics pop up in the way she ducked and spun, but she wasn’t lithe like Nightwing or crafty like the Replacement. She was a brawler. And she was losing.

She is who he might have been, without Bruce and Alfred and Dick. A decent fighter, stubborn, willing to brawl it out, but ultimately destined to lose.

It sucked in an abstract way, the way it sucked that someone was going hungry halfway around the world, the way it sucked when a stranger missed his bus. It sucked, but it wasn’t Jason’s problem, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care. B needed to learn to pick up his toys.

Starting with Steph made the most sense to me. She wasn't (and isn't) a member I know super well, with so much of her canon backstory being things I have no interest in, and she's part of the Family but in that awkward "we're maybe siblings but also I have a mom and also I dated one of you too??" ways, so she's got a little bit of distance, for me as a writer and also Jason. She doesn't have the emotional heat of the others. He doesn't hate her, just what she represents. He also doesn't care what happens to her, except—

The knife glinted in the amber streetlight and cast a shadow across the yellow emblem on her chest.

She's not Batman. She's not a Robin. She's Batgirl. And that's a different thing entirely.

Jason knew what they saw when they looked at him. He was big now, broad-shouldered and massive in a way he had only ever dreamed of being as a scrawny, malnourished street kid. His helmet was blood-red and gleaming, its angles sculpted to subtly suggest a skull. And his clothes were still stained with actual blood. He was an Alley myth, a nightmare with more bite than the Bat, because he wasn’t afraid to do real damage. He was death.

Jason Peter Todd is scary smart, and he knows how to make the exact impact he wants.

“I don’t know you, but I know your colors. You’re Ibanescu’s boys.”

I had to google Gotham crime families. I know literally nothing other than the name.

It was one thing to let her get the snot beat out of her. And even if someone else had taken a shot at her, he wouldn’t have minded. But he couldn’t. Not in that suit.

:3

“It’s not about you,” Jason repeated, his voice gravelly and rough. He pointed toward the yellow symbol on her chest, the symbol that, in the world he’d left, the world he remembered, belonged to someone else. “I owe her a debt. And now it’s paid.” Jason was a murderer. A thief. A criminal. A drug lord. He had no illusions as to his own goodness anymore, no hope for redemption or grace. But he had his values, the few precious things that he would not allow. One of those, it seemed, was watch a man restrain and stab a Batgirl while he did nothing.

Someday I'll write more about that. The partner and friend and maybe mentor who was still reeling from trauma and hadn't yet found her way when Jason was snuffed out of existence.

Jason was tired, but the night was just beginning.

So that's where it starts. Jason tired, literally caked with dried blood, stepping in not because of love or hate or curiosity or concern but because he felt he owed a debt to someone else and that debt instead landed on the person in front of him.

[kazz-brekker]

so, like, is the security at hbo some pieces of swiss cheese draped over their computers? because i cannot fathom how their security has enough holes to leak BOTH of the finales of this show so far several days early

[elliebyrrdwrites]

The Heist

(Again)

This story is too much fun to write.

“What,” Seamus began as he pulled up several screens of security footage. “Do we do about Pansy?”

“What do we do about Astoria?” Ginny set down a tray of sandwiches she brought from the kitchen. Turkey and swiss cheese with mustard and tomato, cut into little triangles and divested of its crust.

Draco lifted one up and took a bite from a corner and leaned back in his chair behind the desk.

Currently on the screens Seamus had set up was several visuals of the interior of Flamel’s home including the atrium, a parlor he apparently spent much time in, and his bedroom. The bedroom camera was placed by Draco and Theo last night during the gala.

Currently, Flamel wasn’t in the house, as he was at lunch with Zabini.

“What did she threaten you with?” Harry asked Draco as he settled onto the sofa with a sandwich.

Granger was avoiding the conversation, flipping through a book. Ignoring the longing looks from Theo and the provoking ones from Draco.

“She wants my ring.”

“What ring?” Theo asked, pulling his gaze from Granger.

“The one I would have given her, had I married her.”

“Why does she want that ring?” Teddy grabbed a second triangular sandwich and proceeded to stuff the entire thing into his mouth.

“It’s quite expensive.” Draco shrugged. “And if I give it to her, she would show up on the family Tapestry.”

“But you wouldn’t be marrying her.” Harry said it slowly. “Right?”

“Sliding that Malfoy ring onto a witches hand is as good as marrying her. It would bind her to me and my family.”

Granger’s eyes snapped up from the book in her lap.

“Why would she want to do that? It’s been ages since you two ended.” Ginny glanced over at Granger.

Draco shrugged and tossed the last bit of sandwich into his mouth and chewed, considering her question.

“She just wants access to the vaults.” Theo scowled and Draco nodded in confirmation.

“It would humiliate me, in her eyes.” He added. “My name has been burned off of the Malfoy tapestry. But hers wouldn’t be,”

“How would that work? Isn’t blood required for those sort of binding contracts?” Granger asked, finally unable to hold her tongue.

“It is. The ring will not go on without either of our blood being spilled.” He grinned at the absurdity of the situation. The entire thing was archaic and worked like a curse on both participants.

“How do you intend to take care of all this?” She glanced down to her lap.

“I intend to employee the work of a highly regarded Curse Breaker.” He dug his fingers into the pocket of his pants and pulled the ring he had retrieved from his home late last night.

When she looked up at him, he smiled.

Everyone looked at the ring he held up. It was a platinum ring with a large pure Columbian emerald and a diamond on either side.

Ginny gasped. “Holy crap. That thing must be worth hundreds of galleons!”

Draco sniffed and set it down on his desk. “It is.”

Granger stared at the ring like it might bite her. “You want me to break the wards on it.”

“It’s more like a curse.” He smiled and flicked his wand toward the platter of sandwiches, summoning a second serving.

She nodded slowly, scrutinizing the ring from where she sat. Which was not her usual spot on the edge of his desk. It was in a chair that was nestled into the corner of the room.

Theo stood near the bookcase, eyeing her.

“Okay, so let’s say Hermione breaks the curse on the ring, then what?” Harry asked, also staring at the ring like it might bite.

“Then I’ll give it to Astoria. It wont bind her to me once the curse is broken. She can do with the ring, what she wants.”

“But it’s a family heirloom!” Ginny screeched. “What happens when you find a witch you want to marry?”

Draco looked to his own little thief as she looked up at him. He smiled gently and shrugged. “I’ll get her something better.”

Theo huffed out a laugh, his eyes suddenly brightening as they shot between Draco and Granger.

Draco tucked away that reaction as he turned to Seamus. “The trick is understanding Pansy’s roll in Flamel’s life and his estate.”

Seamus nodded and tapped a few keys. One of the screens changed views of the house. There was an image of the pool and several lounge chairs set up around it. On the farthest chair from the camera, laid Pansy.

Dressed in a two piece, she soaked up the rays of the sun, her face shaded with the aide of a large floppy hat.

He noticed Granger sneak a peak at Theo, who was frowning up at the screen.

“She looks comfy.” Ginny drawled, rolling her eyes.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from Princess Pansy.” Seamus snorted.

“God, I always hated her. She wanted to sell Harry out to old Vordy. Remember that?” She nodded to Granger.

Granger sniffed and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Theo wasn’t staring at the screen anymore. He was watching Granger with a renewed sense of vigor.

“We create an alibi.” Harry suddenly said. Draco tilted his head and gestured for him to go on.

“We need you, Theo and Hermione to be seen by her on the day of the heist.”

Everyone nodded, following along.

“We need three decoys that not only Pansy will see but Astoria, too. She’s onto us, right?”

“She is.”

“We need three extra people to Polyjuice as you lot, and that can be where you give Tori the wand.” He shrugged. “Or the Polyjuiced version of you, that is.”

Draco leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly. He ran a hand along his jaw, scratching thoughtfully.”

“How are we going to get those two girls in the same place? Don’t they hate each other?” Theo asked.

“There’s a reunion coming up.” Granger said. “Hogwarts throws a reunion for all alums every summer.” She nodded to Harry. “We got our invites weeks ago.”

“Should I be offended that I never received one?” Theo mused. He looked at Draco. “Did you receive one?”

Draco shook his head but was frowning at the logistics for the idea Harry suggested. “Sure, that’s fine but who would we use as our decoys?”

Ginny cleared her throat. “I have a few ideas.” She raised her hand and smiled over at Theo.

“You mean more Weasleys.” He leveled her with a look of discontent.

She nodded. “George and Charlie would definitely do it. And, uh,” She cleared her throat and looked at her husband. He grimaced as he nodded. “Ron would.”

Theo closed his eyes and too a deep breath. Upon exhaling, his eyes opened. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

Granger snorted, abruptly, from the corner of the room. Everyone’s attention turned to her. She looked ready to burst with laughter but she pressed a hand over her mouth and shook her head. Clearing her throat, she held up another hand. “Sorry. No, it’s just.” She giggled but stopped herself with a sigh. “We’re dealing with Pansy and Astoria and now Ron?”

Draco found himself grinning at her.

“But we’re not really going to use him, are we?” Theo demanded. The corner of his lip twitched, fighting against a smile. Whether it was for the situation, or the sound of Granger’s laughter, Draco wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know who else we can trust.” Harry shrugged, agreeing with his wife.

“Well, I don’t want a Weasley polyjuicing into me, seeing my bits and pieces.” Theo sniffed.

“Ron can be me, he’s already seen all of my bits and pieces.” Granger offered, causing Harry and Ginny to grimace. Teddy gagged and put a decorative throw pillow over his face.

Draco smiled blandly at her while Theo blanched.

“Maybe Ginny can be Hermione.” Seamus offered.

“And have one of my brothers be me and chance seeing my bits and pieces?!”

Granger snorted again and threw her hands over her face.

“I can be you.” Harry offered.

“Then who would be you?” Theo asked.

“Ron.” Harry answered. “We’ve already seen each other naked.” He shrugged. “We shared a dorm for six years, a tent for another and regularly take showers in the same locker room at work.”

“Why,” Draco began. “Are we assuming that the polyjuiced versions of ourselves will see our bits and pieces?”

Theo looked at Draco like had had gone bonkers. “I imagine one may need to take a wee at some point. He’d be using an exact replica of my wand, if you know what I mean.”

“Everyone knows what you mean.” Seamus said as he and Teddy unraveled into laughter.

Harry lowered his head into a hand and sighed loudly.

But Ginny was undeterred. “George and Charlie can be you two.” She said it with finality. Like they had all agreed that this was the route that they would indeed take.

Draco considered, as he reached for another sandwich with his wand, that is most likely was decidedly so. He needed to clear these hurtles before they managed to set a date on hitting their actual target.

“Well,” Ginny stood and nodded to her husband. “We have a dinner to plan.”

“What dinner?” Harry lifted his head from his hand and eyed his wife.

“For my brothers. We have to wine and dine them, as you know, in order to get them to listen to us.”

Harry shrugged and stood with his wife.

“Wait, so that’s it? It’s decided? We’re actually going to use the Weasleys?”

Draco shrugged as he watched the Potters wave goodbye.

Seamus stood and stretched. “I’ve got a date.” He checked his watch. “You got this, right?” He said to Draco, nodding to the screens on display.

“What do you mean, you’ve got a date? You mean that muggle woman from the museum?” Teddy sat up straight.

Seamus nodded and made his way across the study. “Yeah, her names Charlotte.” He grinned as he said her name.

“You look serious.” Teddy observed with a raised brow.

“I am. We are.” Seamus waved and left them behind.

Teddy looked around at the room. Observed Granger, once again, flipping through the book in her lap. Eyed Theo and Draco and stood, clearing his throat. “I have a witch to visit.”

“Weasley?” Theo asked.

Granger smiled at Teddy. “You mean Victoire?”

“Yeah. I owled her this morning and asked her to meet me at Florean Fortescue's.”

“Good call, cousin.” Draco raised his sandwich in a salute before taking a bite.

“And you three clearly have some things to talk about so,” Teddy added with a pointed look at Draco and Theo before he waved goodbye and left Granger with her two thieves.

Draco dusted his fingers off and eyed Theo.

“Granger,”

She sighed and closed her book. She quickly stood from the chair and sent the book sailing back into its spot on the shelf. “I have to go, too.”

“Where are you going?” Theo pushed away from the bookcase. “You can’t leave.”

“I can and I am.” She glanced over to Draco. “I’ll look at the ring when I get back.”

“Granger, don’t shut down.” Theo was hot on her heels as she strode for the door.

“I’m not. I have a meeting.”

“With who?”

Draco watched the confrontation with little amusement.

“None of your business.” She didn’t turn to look at him as she swept from the room.

Theo froze at the door and angrily shoved his hands into his hair with a growl.

“Why do you think she’s so upset?” Draco asked, dusting off his fingers.

“Because she is a woman of dignity.” he shrugged and the added, “She doesn’t want to end up alone?”

Draco nodded toward the screen, where Pansy was still lounging beside the pool. “Do you think she knows what kind of wizard Flamel is?”

Theo shook his head. “I don't know how I'd feel if she did.”

“I suppose we’ll find out.”

“Hello!”

Zabini waltzed into the study but stopped when he beheld the two wizards. “Where’s Granger?”

Theo rolled his eyes and settled onto his perch on the desk.

“She’s busy.” Draco replied and nodded to Zabini. “How did the lunch go?”

“It was...educational.” He paused. “Eventful.”

“Flamel is a scoundrel?” Theo surmised.

“Indeed,” Blaise settled into a chair. “So it was your guys’ intention to get me invited to a sex party?”

Draco chuckled while Theo replied, “Yes. When is it?”

“It’s on Friday. I can’t go. That Hogwarts Alum thing is the same day.”

Draco’s eyes flicked to Theo as he scoffed. “You got an invite?”

“Of course. I get one every year.”

“Well, now I know it’s personal.” Theo muttered.

“You’re gonna have to go to Flamel’s sex party.” Draco said, plainly.

Zabini shook his head. “That sounds incredibly uncomfortable. Why would I do that?”

“Because you promised Granger your full cooperation.” Draco reminded him, thankful for Granger’s carefully worded ultimatum.

“Plus,” Theo grinned. “We’ll be there.”

“You two?” Zabini laughed.

“Yes, and Granger.”

Zabini narrowed his eyes in on Draco, considering. “What is the end game here?”

“We keep Flamel distracted. Well,” Draco paused. “You keep Flamel distracted.”

“Where will you lot be? You interested in purchasing sex workers?”

“No,” Draco plucked the ring from his desk and palmed it. “We’re going to be part of the entertainment.”

[waywardtavsanddurges]

BLOG ROLL FOR MY RP BLOGS

Origins RP Hub - @faerunsfinestmisfits - An RP hub blog for Origins muses. Each Origin has their own sideblog.

Tavs and Durges RP Hub - @waywardtavsanddurges - The following blogs follow from here.

Felyn'afae - @felynafae - Rough around the edges drow who guaranteeably hates her people as much as you do. She seems strict and unbending, but she'll get soft and bendy for the right pretty face. Loves strong women and a guy with a beard.

Tryck - @tryckthebard - A circus performer, drag artist, confidence man, flirt, and terribly addicted to sex. Yes, he is that kind of bard, but he's a sweetheart once you get to know him. Plus he's pretty in a tux or a ball gown.

Sinder - @sindernosaint - Orin quite literally made swiss cheese out of his poor brain so hard he barely knows which way is up. Like a feral goat who will imprint on you if you give him nice things like compliments and security.

Penelope Loremaker - @penelopeloremaker - A sweet Mephistopheles Tiefling bard, who plays the flute and sings, and is rather adept at designing a room. Oh, and she happens to be a vampire spawn of Cazador's, destined to be his interior decorator forever.

On RP Hiatus (stories will be told but RP interactions are closed)

Zatara Seachild - @zataraseachild - A halfling pirate raised on the sea, found inside a trunk in the driftwood of a shipwreck when she was a baby. She believes her survival was because of Umberlee. Short Lesbian Sea Queen. Her adopted mother is the Captain of an all female crew of pirates on a ship called The Blessed Bitch.

Wood-Knott - @woodknottmossborn - Total dirty hippie. Talks like Tommy Chong. Just wants to have a good, mellow, peaceful time. Vibes with nature and the Universe, all about balance and harmony. He will hit you with his stick if you push him, though.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google is (still) losing the spam wars to zombie news-brands

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 3) in CALGARY, then TOMORROW (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Even Google admits – grudgingly – that it is losing the spam wars. The explosive proliferation of botshit has supercharged the sleazy "search engine optimization" business, such that results to common queries are 50% Google ads to spam sites, and 50% links to spam sites that tricked Google into a high rank (without paying for an ad):

https://developers.google.com/search/blog/2024/03/core-update-spam-policies#site-reputation

It's nice that Google has finally stopped gaslighting the rest of us with claims that its search was still the same bedrock utility that so many of us relied upon as a key piece of internet infrastructure. This not only feels wildly wrong, it is empirically, provably false:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

Not only that, but we know why Google search sucks. Memos released as part of the DOJ's antitrust case against Google reveal that the company deliberately chose to worsen search quality to increase the number of queries you'd have to make (and the number of ads you'd have to see) to find a decent result:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Google's antitrust case turns on the idea that the company bought its way to dominance, spending the some of the billions it extracted from advertisers and publishers to buy the default position on every platform, so that no one ever tried another search engine, which meant that no one would invest in another search engine, either.

Google's tacit defense is that its monopoly billions only incidentally fund these kind of anticompetitive deals. Mostly, Google says, it uses its billions to build the greatest search engine, ad platform, mobile OS, etc that the public could dream of. Only a company as big as Google (says Google) can afford to fund the R&D and security to keep its platform useful for the rest of us.

That's the "monopolistic bargain" – let the monopolist become a dictator, and they will be a benevolent dictator. Shriven of "wasteful competition," the monopolist can split their profits with the public by funding public goods and the public interest.

Google has clearly reneged on that bargain. A company experiencing the dramatic security failures and declining quality should be pouring everything it has to righting the ship. Instead, Google repeatedly blew tens of billions of dollars on stock buybacks while doing mass layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Those layoffs have now reached the company's "core" teams, even as its core services continue to decay:

https://qz.com/google-is-laying-off-hundreds-as-it-moves-core-jobs-abr-1851449528

(Google's antitrust trial was shrouded in secrecy, thanks to the judge's deference to the company's insistence on confidentiality. The case is moving along though, and warrants your continued attention:)

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/the-2-trillion-secret-trial-against

Google wormed its way into so many corners of our lives that its enshittification keeps erupting in odd places, like ordering takeout food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Back in February, Housefresh – a rigorous review site for home air purifiers – published a viral, damning account of how Google had allowed itself to be overrun by spammers who purport to provide reviews of air purifiers, but who do little to no testing and often employ AI chatbots to write automated garbage:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

In the months since, Housefresh's Gisele Navarro has continued to fight for the survival of her high-quality air purifier review site, and has received many tips from insiders at the spam-farms and Google, all of which she recounts in a followup essay:

https://housefresh.com/how-google-decimated-housefresh/

One of the worst offenders in spam wars is Dotdash Meredith, a content-farm that "publishes" multiple websites that recycle parts of each others' content in order to climb to the top search slots for lucrative product review spots, which can be monetized via affiliate links.

A Dotdash Meredith insider told Navarro that the company uses a tactic called "keyword swarming" to push high-quality independent sites off the top of Google and replace them with its own garbage reviews. When Dotdash Meredith finds an independent site that occupies the top results for a lucrative Google result, they "swarm a smaller site’s foothold on one or two articles by essentially publishing 10 articles [on the topic] and beefing up [Dotdash Meredith sites’] authority."

Dotdash Meredith has keyword swarmed a large number of topics. from air purifiers to slow cookers to posture correctors for back-pain:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/keyword-swarming-dotdash.jpg

The company isn't shy about this. Its own shareholder communications boast about it. What's more, it has competition.

Take Forbes, an actual news-site, which has a whole shadow-empire of web-pages reviewing products for puppies, dogs, kittens and cats, all of which link to high affiliate-fee-generating pet insurance products. These reviews are not good, but they are treasured by Google's algorithm, which views them as a part of Forbes's legitimate news-publishing operation and lets them draft on Forbes's authority.

This side-hustle for Forbes comes at a cost for the rest of us, though. The reviewers who actually put in the hard work to figure out which pet products are worth your money (and which ones are bad, defective or dangerous) are crowded off the front page of Google and eventually disappear, leaving behind nothing but semi-automated SEO garbage from Forbes:

https://twitter.com/ichbinGisele/status/1642481590524583936

There's a name for this: "site reputation abuse." That's when a site perverts its current – or past – practice of publishing high-quality materials to trick Google into giving the site a high ranking. Think of how Deadspin's private equity grifter owners turned it into a site full of casino affiliate spam:

https://www.404media.co/who-owns-deadspin-now-lineup-publishing/

The same thing happened to the venerable Money magazine:

https://moneygroup.pr/

Money is one of the many sites whose air purifier reviews Google gives preference to, despite the fact that they do no testing. According to Google, Money is also a reliable source of information on reprogramming your garage-door opener, buying a paint-sprayer, etc:

https://money.com/best-paint-sprayer/

All of this is made ten million times worse by AI, which can spray out superficially plausible botshit in superhuman quantities, letting spammers produce thousands of variations on their shitty reviews, flooding the zone with bullshit in classic Steve Bannon style:

https://escapecollective.com/commerce-content-is-breaking-product-reviews/

As Gizmodo, Sports Illustrated and USA Today have learned the hard way, AI can't write factual news pieces. But it can pump out bullshit written for the express purpose of drafting on the good work human journalists have done and tricking Google – the search engine 90% of us rely on – into upranking bullshit at the expense of high-quality information.

A variety of AI service bureaux have popped up to provide AI botshit as a service to news brands. While Navarro doesn't say so, I'm willing to bet that for news bosses, outsourcing your botshit scams to a third party is considered an excellent way of avoiding your journalists' wrath. The biggest botshit-as-a-service company is ASR Group (which also uses the alias Advon Commerce).

Advon claims that its botshit is, in fact, written by humans. But Advon's employees' Linkedin profiles tell a different story, boasting of their mastery of AI tools in the industrial-scale production of botshit:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Advon-AI-LinkedIn.jpg

Now, none of this is particularly sophisticated. It doesn't take much discernment to spot when a site is engaged in "site reputation abuse." Presumably, the 12,000 googlers the company fired last year could have been employed to check the top review keyword results manually every couple of days and permaban any site caught cheating this way.

Instead, Google is has announced a change in policy: starting May 5, the company will downrank any site caught engaged in site reputation abuse. However, the company takes a very narrow view of site reputation abuse, limiting punishments to sites that employ third parties to generate or uprank their botshit. Companies that produce their botshit in-house are seemingly not covered by this policy.

As Navarro writes, some sites – like Forbes – have prepared for May 5 by blocking their botshit sections from Google's crawler. This can't be their permanent strategy, though – either they'll have to kill the section or bring it in-house to comply with Google's rules. Bringing things in house isn't that hard: US News and World Report is advertising for an SEO editor who will publish 70-80 posts per month, doubtless each one a masterpiece of high-quality, carefully researched material of great value to Google's users:

https://twitter.com/dannyashton/status/1777408051357585425

As Navarro points out, Google is palpably reluctant to target the largest, best-funded spammers. Its March 2024 update kicked many garbage AI sites out of the index – but only small bottom-feeders, not large, once-respected publications that have been colonized by private equity spam-farmers.

All of this comes at a price, and it's only incidentally paid by legitimate sites like Housefresh. The real price is borne by all of us, who are funneled by the 90%-market-share search engine into "review" sites that push low quality, high-price products. Housefresh's top budget air purifier costs $79. That's hundreds of dollars cheaper than the "budget" pick at other sites, who largely perform no original research.

Google search has a problem. AI botshit is dominating Google's search results, and it's not just in product reviews. Searches for infrastructure code samples are dominated by botshit code generated by Pulumi AI, whose chatbot hallucinates nonexistence AWS features:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/05/01/pulumi_ai_pollution_of_search/

This is hugely consequential: when these "hallucinations" slip through into production code, they create huge vulnerabilities for widespread malicious exploitation:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

We've put all our eggs in Google's basket, and Google's dropped the basket – but it doesn't matter because they can spend $20b/year bribing Apple to make sure no one ever tries a rival search engine on Ios or Safari:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/google-payments-apple-reached-20-220947331.html

Google's response – laying off core developers, outsourcing to low-waged territories with weak labor protections and spending billions on stock buybacks – presents a picture of a company that is too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Google promised us a quid-pro-quo: let them be the single, authoritative portal ("organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful"), and they will earn that spot by being the best search there is:

https://www.ft.com/content/b9eb3180-2a6e-41eb-91fe-2ab5942d4150

But – like the spammers at the top of its search result pages – Google didn't earn its spot at the center of our digital lives.

It cheated.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Image: freezelight (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spam_wall_-_Flickr_-_freezelight.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[odysseywritings]

What Would a Point and Click Adventurer Do?

@flashfictionfridayofficial

(tw cult, dark comedy)

The mysterious island, with its beautiful sparkling ocean and pink sky, held the next important item for Sierra Lucas. Shiny jewelry, strange tools, a taxidermied head, and so much more filled her endless inventory. But a missing slot was reserved for the elusive pink rat, held captive in a luxurious building with an eight pronged sigil and a capital S in-between two overlapping squares.

Sierra rapidly walked to the front, aimed her lips at the golden complex, and said "Golly, these guys aren't short on donations."

Her eyes bugged out and saw the building's security. Sierra needed to be stealthy and clever to distract the armed guards. She sifted through her inventory, saved her progress in a diary titled 'Bomb,' and hoped for the best. She was ready to chuck the bomb until the sizzle alerted the guards and she turned into Swiss cheese.

Thankfully she loaded back to before that horrible event, and went for another item, this time throwing a gem in front of the guards. The two bickered about who saw it first, became impetuously angry, and riddled the other with bullets. She quickly sauntered by and entered the building.

The interior was immaculate and large, yet the the doorways stretched out to cartoonish degrees and she felt she could see the other rooms and a staircase from how compact everything looked. The members were deathly nervous and smiled with gruesomely gummy grins while their eyes shifted like a compass. Any information from them about the pink rat was irrelevant.

"A pink rat? Why, that's the silliest thing I ever heard! Next you'll say it's behind that door there! Oh, and if you see our leader, would you tell him how good I was at lying?"

Sierra continued to browse the gawdy, Escher-esque pastel nightmare house until she saw a door labeled "Get out!" It seemed to be enough for an obedient population.

Sierra opened it and found the cult leader trying to seduce a younger follower. She didn't want to create a scene, so she pulled out her inventory again, and tried finding the subtlest way to dispatch him.

She jabbed 8 poisoned needles into him and he convulsed on the floor. Sierra smiled like a gleeful child.

"You know what they say, it's the dose that kills you, so I brought every dose just in case. Just like Dad taught me!"

Grateful for the rescue, the follower helped Sierra find the pink rat, sad and bored in its little cage as it played a tiny harmonica. Sierra briskly acquired the rat and headed off and wore the leader's clothes.

"My people, you are under new management! Leave now or I will smite and sic my lawyers on thee!"

Most fled but the higher ups chased her and wanted to silence her for seeing too much. The fake religion wouldn't stop until she was dead, and she knew they'd target her to the ends of the earth. She managed to get outside and block the door with the dead guards, but the cult heads kept banging to get out. With little to lose, she poked and prodded the rat for help.

The pink rat squeaked and raised its skinny forelegs out as if to pray. The door was sealed shut with divine rodent energy with a large rat stamp of approval. Sierra sighed in relief and kissed the rat for its help. She could continue her adventure without those duplicitous charlatans hounding her.

Yet her curiosity got the better of her and went through different saves and loads to see what would happen. She decided to throw ordinary table salt on the building and it exploded into a smoking pile of rubble.

"I had a feeling that would work! And no one important died!"

[no-see-um-incorrect]

This is to help y’all recover from this summit 

My versions of redacted GEN 2

If you guys like the small character profiles I’ve made I will continue  also, this is my opinion based off my headcannons for the listeners 

Sorry if the formatting is a bit everywhere

Shaw pack edition (I don’t own this art(i used a picrew) I haven’t had time to make any)

 Gabriel Shaw

“my father made this pack what it is today and I will do my very best to honor that legacy”-Gabriel Shaw

He/him/his

Age: 16 

Parents: David/Angel Shaw

Best friend: sparrow 

Favorite activity: when his dad takes him on a low level security job 

Favorite food: uncle Milo’s Swiss mushroom jackfruit  burger (don’t tell his dad)

Favorite color: “vampire gold~… I mean Ju-just gold I guess..I don’t know….why are you asking me?!”

He’s quiet, and at most times very formal, Takes alpha training VARY seriously (David and Angel are trying to help him ease up)

Loves writing poetry and stories in his free time, Does not have his drivers license (and is the only person in his age who isn’t allowed to get it till he’s 19)

Has his eyes on a particular vampire princess

————————————————————————

 another Shaw child

She/her/hers

Ashlyn Shaw 

“What do you think?……Caelum says cookies first”-Ashlyn Shaw

Age: 9

Favorite color: Green

Favorite activity: teasing her brother 

Favorite food: daddy’s bacon mac & cheese 

She is an actual menace (takes after her parent) when she was little little and just starting her menace tendencies, David would call her “Littler snot” 

Was the youngest of her pack to fully shift.

She can see caelum

————————————————————————

 she/her/they/them

Maria Greer jr (MJ for short)

“yeah, that’s GREER put some respect on the name”-MJ Greer

Age: 16

Has stealth abilities (but much like her dad sucks at shifting)

Best friend: Astrid Collins 

Parents: Milo/Sweetheart Greer 

Favorite food: “Law & order with a side of spite!…you can’t say that hun…Fiiine….BBQ rice bowl…”

Favorite activity: learning about history 

She wants to be a Reporter.

ABSOLUTE DADDYS GIRL

Loves hearing her dad tell the story of the inversion  but the way Milo tells it frames it so that she doesn’t actually know it’s him and she has made it her life‘s mission to figure out what happened that night  and the identity of the “mystery hero” her dad would tell her about 

————————————————————————

Sparrow Talbot

“I may or may not have ran face first into a tree….you didn’t see that”-Sparrow Talbot

Age: 17

Parents: Asher/Baabe Talbot

They/them/theirs 

Best friend: Gabriel

Favorite activity: wolf Zoomiez 

Favorite food: “last meal” no one knows what that means 

When they first adopted them they were very quiet, very calm, very chill. And then Asher shifted in front of them for the first time. And they have been a rambunctious dumbASS since then (and we love them for it)

They always have snacks and drinks on them, seemingly out of nowhere because they don’t carry a bag.

Unlike their father, they actually can cook and they’re pretty freaking great at it.

(all of the scars are from eating shit in wolf form, and not wanting to hear Marie’s lectures)

————————————————————————

Astrid Collins 

They/she/him

“and so what if I replace Alexis‘s shampoo with Nair…OH COME ON IT WAS FUNNY!”-Astrid Collins 

Age: technically 16

Favorite activity: snooping around places they’re not supposed to be (urban exploration)

Empowered: ???? Vampire+???

Best friend: MJ

Favorite food: “anything papa cooks is good I don’t really need to eat though”

Loves to play pranks mostly targeted at Alexis…….OK always targeted at Alexis. 

Sam found her one day when she was little and turned her then when he brought her home and got her through the newborn stage…. she started displaying elemental abilities??? But also vampire abilities??? But she also grows up and ages like a human???? so yeah bit of a mystery 

They are pretty standoffish  they don’t talk a lot and they’re pretty rough around the edges (Darlin who?)

Very attached to Sam (as you can expect) but also extremely attached to Darlin

he built his prosthetic himself  out of an old VCR, a broken toaster, a ripped up T-shirt and scrap metal 

————————————————————————

 And that was my next gen Shaw pack kids

Hope you enjoyed and give me suggestions on like little details for them and other characters (I really wanna do the damn crew but I need suggestions) i’m gonna say it again. These are based off of my headcannons for the listeners feel free to disagree with my opinion just don’t be mean about it (we’re just having fun here)

If you can’t tell, I was a Monster High/ever after high kid And I love writing shit like this 

[boneheadboner]

Depths in Despair; Megalosomnia

Deep Down Deep Part 2/2

Things don't pan out for the Good doctor the way he had hoped. And under a mountain of work, it's no wonder a Slate fell by the wayside.

Fun is what he would have had…. Had he the chance to. 

Not long after she succumbed to his control, he brought her back to the lab and got her initially checked in. He took a few spare moments to check over her memories… Merely out of curiosity, to determine how long she evaded him.  And found that what was going on in her head was far more concerning than he initially thought. If the voices that spoke to her weren’t signs something was off about this woman, her memories certainly would have told him. It was as if swiss cheese had a love child with patchwork. Many memories of things that he’d not believe were he not able to observe them in her mind. And so, so many significant gaps. Troublingly so. Memories of her life on the surface were rare, and far more frequent were memories that… Held familiar faces, and yet so foreign. Even those were addled with holes and gaps. It seemed that Sonia hadn’t been underground long, and her time wandering through it before meeting him was the most clear any of her memories were. 

He’d dealt with subjects that had portions of their life locked away in their memories, as a result of traumas they had endured in life. It was always a case of finding what helped pull them forward, finding a key to that lock. This…? There were no locks to hide memories, there were no closed doors to memories too harsh to remember. 

Just complete sizable absences and gaping holes where memories should have been. Nothing to tether one memory to another. As perplexing as it was to analyze and assess, he was interrupted by Alphys. 

Something else demanded his attention more, which required he leave the new human to Cecilia to process further. Cecilia could handle it, after all. The blasted CORE. Another failure in sector B28-21. Always sector B28… If it wasn’t one problem there, it was another. 

Of course, being part of the CORE that distorted atoms to radiate ambient magic throughout the underground? Made it one of the primary necessities to keep running.

If so much as one sector went down, it could throw the whole CORE out of balance and cause a catastrophic meltdown. If it wasn’t such a boon to have in the first place, he’d happily track down the person who designed it, and throttle them.

If anyone even remembered WHO designed the thing… 

His last foray of frustrations towards the CORE’s creator, and desire to seek them out? Left him without any answers, and a week worth of time wasted for it.

Still, he wasted no time…

– … Because there was never any time to waste. Once the CORE was sorted out, which took him four days to narrow down and solve, due to juggling what other pressing issues he was presented with, there was another issue.

And another after that.

And another after that.

Resources distribution. 

Five hours, two cups of coffee. One tasting flavorful and robust, the second tasting quite obviously as though the assistant who brought it to him reheated it in the microwave. He’d have words for them later.

Tracking movements and changes in the underground. 

Two more births in Snowdin, fortunate news. A Falling Down in Waterfall, another lost to dwindling HoPe. Three moving from Hotland to Capitol. 

Seven hours, six cups of coffee. 

The first tasted so weak that Baggs questioned if he was drinking water and not coffee. The following three were of more serviceable quality. The remaining two tasted like tar, and were it not an invigorating tar, he’d have refused it. And Baggs made the decision that Casey was no longer allowed to bring him coffee after discovering he was responsible for preparing the last two. Bright as the man might be, he’s better suited to helping study the barrier than preparing coffee. 

Keeping systems in check, ensuring security detail is up to par. 

Two new humans were caught and transported to the lab. Cecilia reported that the two were significantly xenophobic, and hostile. Thus would be housed on Floor 18, Block 10. Block 10 was designated for more aggressive and dangerous humans, to be studied on how to rehabilitate or utilize even aggressive members of the species. 

Twelve hours (until interruption). Sixteen cups of coffee.

The first five, typical. With a far more bitter flavor at the fifth. Noted.

The sixth. It took him twenty minutes to try his first sip, so focused on his work that he hadn’t taken a sip until then. 

It felt like a heady jolt of energy flooded his body, the notes of the clearly fresh brew rising up, as if to sing to his senses. And the warmth as it melted into his magic thrived in his body, relaxing him far more than a cup of coffee typically did. 

He’d not seen who brought it, but he did make note of the sound of their walking. It did sound different from the usual assistants who brought him his coffee, but he didn’t think it important at the time. 

Perhaps one of the other scientists decided to brew him something nice. It couldn’t have been Alphys, as it had the lacking anxiety he could always taste in coffee prepared by her. 

No matter, the identity of the one who made this would be revealed in the next cup, he was certain. 

And disappointed with each proceeding cup brought to him over the hours. 

Seventh, from the same pot, but not prepared and delivered by the same hands as the one before. He could tell by the intentions that bled into the brew. The assistant who delivered it unintentionally let their emotions seep in and altered the feeling within the coffee he drank. 

Not the same. Not bad, but nowhere near as good as the prior mug. 

The assistant, a young whimsun monster named Fen, had panicked over his expression of disappointment… But, he reassured them and sent them on their way. The eighth, to the thirteenth, much the same. Decent, but disappointing by comparison. Fortunately a fresh pot was brewed by the tenth. 

Fourteenth cup of coffee, Baggs nearly spat it out. And demanded to know who prepared it, to find he was 13 minutes late to fuss at the one who concocted the nightmare that barely resembled coffee.

Fifteenth cup. Cecilia, It was fucking Cecilia. 

Not the one who brewed bliss in a mug, but the one who concocted terrors unknown into a coffee.

He had the good fortune to be done sending out a U-mail to ‘recommend’ a security plan for Waterfall, when the fresh cup was placed down, ready for him to take his first sip of it. And nearly spat it out again, placed the cup down roughly, and turned towards the offender. Reddish hair, tied in a bun, eye bags that rivaled his own hidden beneath reading glasses, and a look that held more contempt for humankind than any Monster was capable of. And she was human.Perhaps humans simply don’t know how to not brew a cup of coffee that tastes like every agitation in their present mind. 

“Cecilia, what is this supposed to be?” Perhaps his tone was far less reserved than usual, but he did imbibe something foul that masqueraded as coffee. The woman just looked at him flatly. Her response was equally as dead in tone as her gaze. “Coffee, sir.” She retorted, Baggs was no stranger to her sass. Usually it made days entertaining. 

Those days were not ones he was served bad coffee. “My dear, did you even try a cup of that? That is death in a mug.” Baggs fussed. 

Cecilia looked at the cup, and then at Baggs. Her expression was perplexed. He pried at her mind, to determine whether or not she realized she almost poisoned him. Only to find that she was genuinely confused. “... You mean that coffee isn’t supposed to taste like shit?” An exasperated sigh, and a shake of his head. “Cecilia, you are henceforth banned from preparing or bringing anyone coffee. That tastes so bitter, I’d dare not have another monster drink it, lest they dust on contact.” “Fine by me, sir.” Cecilia responded, before placing some papers on his already tall workload of information to analyze. “What is–” “The information regarding the new ones.” Cecilia sighed, before turning to walk away. 

Baggs gave pause for a moment. New… Ah, right. Humans. “Oh, uh. Sir? There’s been a mag-lock failure on Floor 17, Block 8.” Baggs sputtered, shooting the woman a glare. “And you thought to mention this in passing, why?!” he blurted out. 

Cecilia stared at him, before offering a shrug. “The one contained there is a non-issue. She’s not going to cause anyone problems.” If he didn’t trust Cecilia’s judgment when it came to her fellow humans, he’d have far more words for her. 

But for her to make such a statement? Meant that the human contained in such a cell was likely terrified of her, and would make a whimsun look brave. 

“Ugh… I’ll send a U-mail to request immediate work on it.” Baggs scoffed. “Don’t you mean E-mail?” The red-head looked at him, with a sly smirk on her face. Baggs certainly didn’t have the time nor desire to get into this with her again. “You’re dismissed, Cecilia.” “Understood, sir.” Cecilia smirked, before she absconded. 

Likely to do her damn job and oversee Floor 16-18. And fortunately not to unleash terrors unbeknownst to monsterkind by trying to fix someone a drink. And it was imperative that he have that Mag-lock issue sorted out. Were a human to get out, and find a way out of the labs? It would be absolute chaos. 

–

With another 11 U-Mails sent out, two specifically to make demands regarding the mag-lock, and one to Asgore as an update on matters that he wanted to know about. Another cup was brought to Baggs. 

He had noted the click of heels upon the floor, and the cup being set down. With a heavy sigh, he took a drink of the fresh brew as the clicking of heels started again towards the door. The invigoration, the warmth– “WAIT!” Baggs nearly shot up as he called out… And spilled some of the blessed brew on himself in the process. He could mourn spilled bliss later. Barely catching a glimpse of the taller woman before casting his gaze downward at the spill on his labcoat in frustration. “M-Master!!” The clicks sped towards him, before the owner of them dropped to her knees. As a kerchief was very hastily applied by gentle hands to soak up as much of the spilled coffee. “Master, are you alright? Oh s-stars, you didn’t get burned, did you?? I’m so sorry…!” The woman’s voice was wrought with anxiety.

Stars, he should know her name, shouldn’t he? Especially with how wonderfully she addresses him… And perhaps stroked his ego just right.

“I– No, I’m fine. I merely wanted to–” Auburn brown hair, tied in a bun. Large glasses. Green eyes. Pale complexion.

“Sonia?” 

“I– Y-Yes master?” She halted her fretting over his wellbeing to look up at him. 

The human he brought in nearly a week ago. He didn’t immediately recognize her, she looked so different in formal attire. A white coat cinched tightly around her, accentuating her curves. A simple black pencil skirt, sheer pantyhose with black stockings on top. And a pair of white pumps.

Baggs found himself immediately remembering that he sorely needed to alleviate stress–

A rough clearing of his throat was necessary, business before pleasure, he reminded himself. 

He still had to thoroughly examine her and ensure she wasn’t a risk, by… Ensuring she was loyal, before she was permitted to walk around the labs. Baggs kept his tone gentle, remembering how skittish the woman was when he had first met. Given that he hadn’t had the chance to fully condition her, it’s entirely likely she’d be just as nervous. “Aehm… How, did you get out?” Baggs softly queried.

Sonia bit her lip, and looked away meekly. “Um… I… A-Asked very nicely…?” “Mmm hmm…” His tone was that of disbelief. She began fidgeting with her hands. “O-Okay so um… There was an issue with my door… It uh… Doesn’t close like everyone else's…” Ah, so this was the person who had been designated to that cell. With such a timid disposition, it’s no wonder Cecilia let it slide. “But..! It made it so I could actually help out, a-and help out Ms. Cecilia! She’s scary a-at first, but she’s a good person. She even helped me get new clothes on my second day here..!” Sonia explained, a warm smile on her face.

That solved that mystery. Did Cecilia dress her that way on purpose, just to fuck with him?

“I see… And the coffee?” Sonia lit up with excitement, he could feel it from her. “Oh! Yes! See um… E-Earlier in the day there was some fuss regarding the coffee maker making a weird noise.. So I thoroughly cleaned it, checked it to e-ensure that there was nothing loose or damaged… Aaaand brewed a fresh batch, to test it~! Suffice to say, problem solved!” She beamed with pride, satisfied with her small victory.

That sort of satisfaction and fulfillment certainly explains how that earlier cup wound up so potent. 

“A-and, well… Since I got to fix it, I… Wanted to deliver a cup specially for you…” Her voice shrunk so much, as she idly twirled a strand of her hair and averted her gaze. 

Oh. Oh.How curious.

“Well, I HAD meant this cup, but it is nice to know that you’re the one who brought me coffee earlier.”

“Oh… This time? um! Ms. Cecilia requested a fresh batch of coffee. Something about you b-being in an awful mood! So I… Well. I wanted to make sure I made the best cup I could, to… Well, bring a little sunshine into your day?” Sonia looked up at him, with such a gentle and hopeful look. 

“Well, then I personally shall–” It looked as though something clicked in her head, and the woman was back into an anxious rambling mess.  “M-Master, am I in trouble? I k-know I’m not supposed to be out b-but I only wanted to help– I m-mean it’s OKAY if I’m in trouble, I promise I can handle it if I need to be p-punished. I d-don’t mean to tell you what to do, but if I’ve personally upset you, I–” “Sonia.” “Y-Yes Master.” A simple word, and the human woman fell quiet, wincing her eyes shut as she lowered her head.

Baggs cleared his throat. “While you are not in trouble for this, there are questions I have regarding… Well…” Baggs trailed off. Where to even start? It was a significant security risk for a human he personally hadn’t cleared to be running around. Gentle or not. Furthermore, being permitted to bring him coffee that they could have theoretically and literally tainted is something that can’t be overlooked...

“Well… I suppose those questions are more for Cecilia…” Baggs mused out loud, frowning. 

“Then… What questions do you have for me, Master?” Sonia asked, tilting her head in confusion. The one that was confusing the moment she started talking to him. 

Her apparent loyalty. “I… You seem so… Eager to call me ‘Master’.. And yet I’ve not asked you to. It piqued my curiosity.” 

And Baggs would love to hear what manner of reasoning she would have for that. After all, he hadn’t really subjected her to the conditioning he’d need to for such loyalty to become second nature. 

Sonia blushed, before looking down. “... I felt it.” 

Baggs raised his browbone at the statement.

“When you silenced all those voices I… Felt it. Your magic… How it called to me. How it called for me to serve… To obey…” Sonia shivered a bit, her blush deepening. 

A wry smirk grew on his face. “And you… Didn’t even try to fight it~?” Sonia looked up at him, with a frustrated pout at his accusation. That was expected.

“After all the good you’ve done me?!”

Her words? Were not. Baggs was taken aback, looking upon the human woman before him. It was possible he looked like a whimsun caught doing, well… Anything, with the expression of sheer shock on his face. “Since the day I woke up, everything has been loud. Everything has been loud for as long as I can remember, for all I can remember…!” Her voice was filled with pain and confusion. “I can breathe, I can think without h-having to worry about being overwhelmed by all the things I’m hearing that make no sense, I can make my own thoughts about whatever I see, without hearing twenty different voices loudly arguing over what choices I make and what things I say…” Sonia carried on, before looking up at him. The tears prickling at her eyes were visible, but it did not make their presence any less surprising to him. 

“I’m thankful, Master. And I am happy to help you in any and every way I can. You’ve brought me something I never knew I needed. You brought me peace, Master. I only hope that I can even begin to return the favor.”

Baggs had conditioned many humans. His experiments required both willing and unwilling participants, and spanned many methods. All to further monsterkind’s safety and hopeful co-existence with mankind. 

Even Cecilia, who despised her own species, required conditioning to become loyal to him. So he would know that she wouldn’t, couldn’t betray him. To have a human kneel before him on their own full volition, after a mere few hours of his magic several days ago? He’d have never considered it. 

And yet, here one was.  

Something like this was… Simply put, too good to be true. 

And so he peered into her thoughts, there had to be some manner of plot something she was planning–

A memory. So close to the forefront, he could tell she was remembering it fondly.

-

An expanse of dark blues and blacks, splayed overhead, pricks and pins of white in the ceiling.

“... Y’know, before I met you, I… I always kinda took this for granted.”

Her voice, carrying on. Not echoed or reverberating in the room. 

Chirps of crickets abound in the grass around her.

Another voice, deeper in tone. Familiar.

“heh… well, you coulda fooled me. you never took our stars for granite.”

Those… Were… Stars??

“Well–” a pause, before she snorted, and giggled. “Nice~... Well, there’s nothing wrong with feeling sedimental about yours. I mean, a dazzling ceiling full of sparkling gems? Kinda rocks~.” 

“heh, not bad. but don’t be too rough on yourself. for you? a sight like this was just a stone’s throw for you to see.” the other voice responded.

Seems that Sonia and this other person had a sense of humor…

“Yeah, but you literally had to move– out of – a mountain to see this!” Sonia lightheartedly fussed. 

“heh… and you had to fall into a mountain to see things crystal clear.” the other voice responded. “Yeah… Well…” She trailed off. A somber note in her voice. “At this rate, it’s like Sisyphus for you to even enjoy this.” 

“... and it doesn’t stop being worth it. trust me, nothin’ peats this”

“Sans…?”

Wait… Had she known even back then that he’d be–

“yeah?”

Sonia looked over at the other person. A skeleton, with a blue hoodie, white t-shirt, and black basketball shorts laid lazily in the grass. His arms folded behind his head. 

What….?? That… That looked so much like him, before he…

Sonia stared at him, staying silent for a few moments. “... sheesh, was it that bad?” 

“... I promise you. No matter how many times you have to push that boulder back up…? You won’t ever have to do it alone again.”

“hey, now. don’t go promising things you might not be able to keep.” “I won’t promise you then… I’ll pumice you.” A look of surprise, before the both of them devolved into giggles. 

“oh man, that was so bad…” 

“Look, with a last name like ‘Slate’, you think I’d have to dig for rock jokes? I learned them real early.” 

“.... like ‘archeology’ early or?” An exasperated gasp, before she looked over at him. 

The skeleton started laughing. “Y.. You! I’m not that old!! I’m 27, going on 28! Not 27 going on 200!!” Sonia fussed. “you sure about that? how long have you been 27 going on 28?” He asked through laughs.

“You know that’s a loaded question! How am I supposed to keep track of how old I am if things keep RESETTING?” …!! She… Knew about that? Nevermind, she’s experienced that??

“heh, now you know why i took so long the first time you asked me, ‘sans, how old are you?’.” “Hmph!” Sonia fussed, before rolling over and pinning her hands on each side of the ground next to the skeleton’s head.

He… didn’t even flinch?

“oh, wouldja look at that. ‘view got even better.” the lazy smile tugged up more, as did his eyesockets. 

“If I’m ancient Egyptian artifacts, then you’re dinosaur bones, you dork!” Sonia huffed. “... like… cretaceous period or triassic period? the difference there is pretty jurassic.” he gave a wink. 

“... I mean it though… As long as I can be there for you? I will be. As long as I’m alive, you won’t have to face this eternal hell alone. I promise.” A firm sense of confidence and determination.

A soft sigh escaped the skeleton, as he looked up at her.

“... thank you, sonia… you… don’t know how much that means to me…”

“Master??”

“Master, are you alright???” -

“Master! Please, speak to me…!!”

Baggs gasped as he snapped back to reality. Stars, that memory was so vivid, it practically pulled him in… And left him with more questions than answers.

“Oh thank goodness. M-Master, you zoned out there for a moment… I was worried! D.. Did I offend you? Or… Oh stars, um… Listen, I… I don’t know what happened? B-But I’m here for you.” Sonia offered, her tears overflowing. 

When did his vision get so blurry?

Was he…. How was he going to explain that one? “I… You’re fine, my dear. I was… Simply moved to tears by your display of such… Such inspiring loyalty.” 

It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh… I.. Oh gosh, I… I didn’t think it was that special, but…” Sonia averted her gaze, shrinking a bit. “More special than you know…” Baggs gave pause, to compose himself. 

“Now, you are not in trouble. However, there are procedures for handling new humans, as I’m sure you’re aware. To ensure that you’re in good health, and that you’re properly documented as safe to roam.”

Sonia blushed a bit. “O-Oh! Gosh… I’m so sorry… I-It’s been awhile, and I didn’t mean to skip any sort of line… I’m sorry.” She looked sheepishly guilty. 

“No no, you’re fine. I’m the one who must conduct these procedures personally, and there were many things that came up of critical importance, and… Admittedly your processing fell by the wayside. But, rest assured. I’ll handle that as soon as I am able to.” Baggs explained, watching how her gaze fixed onto him as he spoke.

Fascinating. “Oh! So… I think I understand now. Thank you, Master. Shall I return to my cell and um… Remain there until further orders?” Sonia queried. He did need time to think about the new information he obtained from her. The surface… Somehow, someway, she had seen someone like him, with his name, on the surface… And they spoke of the RESETs…

“Yes, I think that would be perfect. Worry not, it won’t be much longer, pet.” 

The last word slipped so easily from his mouth, he furrowed his brow as he realized what he said by mistake.

But he did not miss the squeak she made, or how her lip quivered and her flush deepened at that single three letter word. 

Oh.

Well then. That explained her eagerness to call him such a title. “I… Y-Y-Yes, Master. I’ll be patient. I um, I hope you e-enjoy the coffee. I-If you ever need any when I’m able to roam, you n-need only say the words…” Sonia shakily stood up. With a coffee as resplendent as she prepares? Stars… The amount of work he could get done with ease… 

“Oh, rest assured. I won’t hesitate to call upon you if I’m in need of a cup.” The warm smile and light giggle that escaped her was like sunshine. “You are dismissed.” Baggs calmly waved his hand. A simple nod, and he could hear Sonia’s heels clicking with vigor. “Don’t run in those, you’ll break your ankles.” He swiftly chided.

“Y-Yes, Master!” 

And with that, his new pet– subject left. 

Baggs sighed, there was certainly going to be much to study with her, he could tell. He returned to his chair, to finish what information he needed to dispense with the remaining U-mails. As he took a sip of his coffee, feeling that warmth and invigoration flood his body, he pondered a whirlwind of new questions and information to mull over.

Frankly, he’d been quite lucky that it was her cell that had the mag-lock failure. Had it remained in tact, he might not be blessed with such a reprieve from the usual, much less comforted from the catastrophe that was Cecilia’s coffee. 

Upon consideration, added another question to the pile;

What sort of emotions did she feel when she made this coffee?

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Dubious Benefits

Pairings: Claudio Castagnoli x Fem!Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, slight degradation, dirty talk.

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl

“I need to find someone to fuck, no strings attached, so I can get rid of this stress before I have a heart attack!” That was the statement that started this mess over a year ago.

They started this as good friends, but then that friendship started coming with, shall we say, benefits. Perks if you will, that would eventually complicate things, but for the time being, were pretty handy and mutually beneficial.

She needed a distraction, just a few hours where her mind could shut off, and she would only have to listen to her body’s needs and be fully in the moment

Claudio on the other hand needed intimacy. Over the years, he had grown tired of fucking random women without any kind of attachment. Sure it was nice back in the day, but now he needed more.

“I need something more than that. I need the security, the intimacy of just laying around in a comfortable silence, enjoying someone else’s company without it being awkward or uncomfortable. I want to be able to have a nice conversation before and after the fucking, maybe have casual talks while we cook dinner or watch tv. I want someone who knows me and will fulfill me emotionally too, not just physically. Is that weird?” He asked before looking at her while she sat across from him on the couch.

“No, it’s not” She hid her teasing smirk behind a handful of cheese puffs “You’re just getting old, my dude”

She couldn’t hold back her laugh though when the pillow that was resting on top of Claudio’s thighs hit her perfectly on the head, messing up her hair before it fell on top of the rug.

Claudio was always dressed in his best attire whenever he came to visit her.

She even teased him once, saying that he should show up dressed in sweatpants for a change so that she didn’t feel like this was becoming some kind of a serious relationship.

“I only dress equivalent to the beauty of the woman I am visiting, biberli” He winked

“Why do you call me that, by the way? Is that some sort of secret curse word used by Swiss people that I’m not aware of?” She teased, with a chuckle

“No” Claudio grinned, “Biberli is a sweet, it’s two slices of sweet gingerbread held together with a sticky honey-almond filling. It’s like you, sweet and soft on the inside but also has that spicy outside that has my mouth watering” He playfully growled, before running after her up the stairs to her bedroom.

The cherry lip tint that she applied had begun to dry up when the doorbell rang. She ran barefoot to the front door, her hand closed around the doorknob and she opened it to find a large bouquet of red and white roses.

“Great, now you bring flowers too?! Can you be less perfect, please? For my heart's sake” She teased with a smirk

“Wow, you look gorgeous!” Claudio smiled widely, making her cheeks feel hot from embarrassment. He handed her the flowers and she thanked him before stepping aside so he could come in.

“I’ll put this in a vase” She stated, while walking towards the kitchen “Make yourself at home, ok? I just need to grab a few things and then we can go”

After setting the flowers on top of the counter she turned around to find Claudio standing behind her

“Jesus, you scared me” She chuckled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. But you forgot to give me something”

“Oh, shit. You want something to drink? Sorry, I didn’t hear you asking for anyth-“

Claudio took one step forward, trapping her body in between himself and the counter. His hands were inside his navy blue dress pants pockets and as his head leaned down, she felt herself drowning in his scent.

“Schmatz” Was the only thing he whispered against her lips.

She gave him a soft peck on the lips and Claudio leaned back, giving her the false impression that he would let her step aside. Once she did, he hooked his finger around the belt loop of her flared pants, quickly pulling her back to her previous position.

Claudio’s hands cupped her cheeks and held her head in place as he captured her lips in a needy kiss.

“If I remember correctly a ‘schmatz’ is a peck on the lips” She giggled breathlessly as he pulled her closer to his body. Claudio’s hands traveled down her curves, marking their favorite path down her body.

“It is. But I couldn’t help myself” His hands cupped her breasts through the light pink satin tank top seconds before his fingers pulled the spaghetti straps down her shoulders.

Claudio’s lips gave open mouth kisses to her neck, traveling down her body and taking the same path his fingers had traced mere seconds ago.

“Shit” She moaned when his tongue traced small circles on the sensitive points of her neck and collarbone “You know that if you keep this up we're going to be late, right? And you hate being late”

Claudio’s tongue traced a lined from her neck to her chin until he reached her bottom lip “I do” He whispered “That’s why I came to pick you up 3 hours early”

She felt him smirking against her lips before she cackled “Oh, so you purposely came early so you could take advantage of me? Where did all that chivalry of yours go, Mr. Castagnoli?”

“I am a gentleman, biberli” Claudio placed her on top of the kitchen island and slowly began to pull her pants down her legs “I treat women as they wish to be treated. It’s not my fault that you love being treated like a cheap slut who gets fucked on top of a kitchen island, in broad daylight, with the curtains wide open for all the neighbors to see” His small shrug only caused her to chuckle.

“Asshole” She teased, being taken by surprise when Claudio ripped her emerald colored lace thong and placed it in his dress pants pocket.

“Not right now, biberli. I missed your pussy way too much to fuck you in the ass. But if you behave like a good girl for me, then maybe I’ll think about fucking your ass the way you like it later tonight”

Claudio tapped his tip against her clit, making her whine his name and pull him closer.

The only word her brain could form was “Please”

“Please, what? You have to be more clear than that” He chuckled and mocked, mimicking her voice “Please, sir, put your cock in my pussy, I need it in me” Claudio laughed when she narrowed her eyes at his mockery. He continued to rub his tip against her clit and continued:

“Or perhaps it’s: ‘Please, sir, fuck my ass’. Which one is it, Bibi?”

“What about: please sir, shut the fuck up because your mouth is ruining my mood?” She retorted as she plastered on a fake smile.

Claudio chuckled, pressing his tip against her entrance and thrusting his hips forward ,he felt her walls beginning to close around him as he spoke “If I wasn’t so horny right now, I would show you exactly how well my mouth can ruin you, biberli”

“Is this your way of telling me you missed fucking me and your hand wasn’t enough to give you relief? Aww, look at that, the old man really is a softy” She teased, lips spreading into a wide smile once she felt his stubble scraping the delicate skin of her neck.

“Old man?” Claudio laughed breathlessly “Tell me, who got you this wet by just speaking a few words to you, bibi?”

“You did, old man” She teased again “Unfortunately you’re that good”

“Unfortunately? Is this a burden to you? Are you performing an act of charity for an old man in need? Should I leave?” Claudio smirked, as he rolled his hips before thrusting deeply in her. His pace changed from insanely fast to slow and deep whenever he felt himself or her getting close to the edge.

“Fuck” She moaned against Claudio’s lips “You’re not allowed to leave until you give me a handful of orgasms and food, old man”

Claudio captured her lips as his pace gradually sped up. Their tongues danced slowly around each other, lips getting sucked, pulled and nibbled on.

“So you just want me for my dick and wallet? Rude”

They laughed in sync as Claudio’s nails sank into the skin of her hips. She could feel the burning sensation of his scratching on her skin, and she reveled in the feeling of his primal urges.

“I don’t care about your wallet, but I do love your dick” She teased breathlessly, her arms closed around Claudio’s neck to pull him closer. “Although you have some other qualities that are pretty amazing too”

“Really? And what are those?” Claudio pulled back to look in her face, his hips thrusting back and forth slowly as he pushed her sweaty hair away from her face.

“Your ego is already humongous and very hard to deal with, we don’t need to make it even bigger” She cackled

“But you just said that you love my cock” He pouted playfully, causing her to take a quick bite into the pumped flesh

“I hate you” She laughed before asking “Faster, please. I want faster, fuck me hard”

Claudio’s head buried itself in the crook of her neck, with his hands gripping tightly to handfuls of flesh on her hips as he held her in place.

She never knew a man could be this fast until they began to have sex. Claudio was a fucking machine in the flesh, the positions and pacing were worthy of a sex god. She didn’t know how he could do all of this but fuck was he amazing! Not only as a lover but as a friend, as a person, as a man…she was certain she would never be able to find a man as perfect as Claudio in her life.

“I missed you so fucking much” He whispered against her cheek. One of his hands traveled down to her mound, circling her clit and adding the needed pressure to help her cum faster.

“I missed you too” She whispered back, hands cupping his cheeks, eyes searching him with need. “I can’t hold it anymore, Claudie. Please”

Claudio’s hips settled for a new pace again, only this time, torturously slow. He dragged himself in and out of her without a hurry, his dark eyes focusing on her face and savoring her every feature, as he felt himself getting intoxicated in her beauty and being. She was the sun to his gloomy days, her sarcastic humor was a remedy for his seriousness, her loud and over the top laugh was a siren that brought him back to reality when everything else managed to overwhelm him, her touch was comforting like a warm blanket in the freezing winter, her smile hid the perfect amount of teasing and sweetness that constantly reminded him to not take things so seriously, her child-like spirit taught him how let things go every once in a while, her kind heart lull him to peace when his perfectionist traits began to haunt him, her body was like a glass of water in the screeching sun, and her being summed up everything he wished to find in a partner.

Claudio’s hips froze in place,as he stood there, buried inside of her, hands touching her skin, eyes wandering around her face, and for an instant he caught himself asking *Is this what it feels like? Is this how…*

*True love feel like?* She finished the same question in her mind, before they leaned forward to each other’s lips to find the answer.