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mothandpidgeon · 4 months ago

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keystrokes (dave york x hacker!f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

rating: E (18+!)

summary: You hacked into Dave Yorks computer and found more secrets than you bargained for.

contents: Non con/dub con, mean!Dave, voyeurism, sex toys, masturbation, mutual masturbation, porn, breaking and entering, violence?, gun, gunplay, choking, morally grey reader, reader is Girl with the Dragon Tattoo coded but not physically described

wc: 3.4k

a/n: So I've been having some ✨writers block ✨ (hence the lack of updates last month) but for some reason, Dave York did a little breaking and entering in my brain and shook it loose. I've been writing a lot of heartfelt romance recently and I think I just needed a little depravity I guess.

Thank you @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for giving this a look and for anyone I shouted at about this idea (looking at you @schnarfer and @toomanytookas but I know there have been others). Dividers by @ saradika-graphics.

You squint in the light of the refrigerator. It’s empty save for some cartons of half-eaten Chinese food and cans of energy drinks. Check the time— half past one. Too late to order in. Guess cold lomein it is.

The apartment falls back into darkness once you swing the fridge door shut. You’re used to it, the soft glow of your computer monitors illuminating your little space. It’s easy to forget to turn the lights on when you’re focused on your work. Forget to eat. Forget to meet people that aren’t on the other side of a screen.

You sit down at your desk, legs crossed in your seat, and shovel some food into your mouth. Most nights are like this, lost in your work. It’s never felt like a job, not really. More like a way to do the shit you’ve always done except now you get paid to do it. You’re a subcontractor of a subcontractor, someone far enough away from the government that they can get information while still maintaining plausible deniability. You don’t know who you’re working for and most of the time your assignments are vague. All you have to do is gather intelligence and put it into a neat little report without mentioning the methods you used to get it.

You’ve always enjoyed uncovering people’s secrets, reading notes over your classmates shoulders, looking through the search history on friends’ computers. That insatiable curiosity is what led you to start hacking. The targets these days aren’t always exciting but at least tonight’s is.

David York.

Early 40s, divorced. Ex military. DIA. There’s much more to him than that, though. A little program hidden on his computer lets you track each keystroke he makes.

You’ve learned all about him. Dave he prefers. There’s a lot that won’t make it into your report— where he shops online (Brooks Brothers), the take out he orders (one large pepperoni from Frankie’s Pizzeria), the porn he watches (girl on girl). But there’s one thing your bosses will be interested in: Dave York is a contract killer.

You could’ve ended this project by now. You’ve got plenty in your notes to make your customers happy yet you’re still logging onto his computer. It fascinates you that a man so normal, almost on the borderline of boring, could be so dangerous.

You shovel some food into your mouth and go drag your mouse over your desk. You’ve been reviewing footage you recorded through his webcam today. A few lines of code and you were able to turn his laptop’s camera on without activating the tally light. He was smart enough to use unique, complicated passwords, two-factor authentication, and encrypted emails but he didn’t take the time to put a sticker over his webcam.

You’ve found some interesting information this way— listened in on conversations, heard the things he only says into his burner phone. Tonight most of it is just Dave at the keyboard, his tie loosening over time.

You scrub through the footage, Dave drinking coffee and typing in fast forward punctuated by stretches of his empty home office. Nothing exciting until—

You pause the video when you see it. Lomein hangs from your open mouth. He’s half naked, head thrown back, hand buried in his lap. His dick is engulfed in a big fist, a bead of precum frozen before it rolls over his fingers.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen a mark in a compromising position. In this line of work, you’ve seen all the dark corners of people’s hard drives. There’s worse than nudes and home made porn out there. Normally— if it’s not illegal, at least— you just scroll by. But Dave, it’s different when it comes to him. For some reason, seeing him in a compromising position has your blood rushing in your ears. He’s a killer. How many people have had the opportunity to see him in such a vulnerable state?

He’s bare to the waist, his chest so smooth you wonder if he shaves it or if he’s naturally like that. His broad shoulders look perfect to grab onto if you were on top of him. Riding him.

Of course you notice all of this after taking a good, long look at his cock. A clutch of dark curls trail down his soft belly to where it stands, drooling in his fist. You realize you’re salivating.

Guilt pokes at you as you move the playhead back. It’s a violation. Then again, you’ve all but eviscerated Dave's privacy. You know exactly how much money is in his bank account, that his daughter Molly has a sleepover this weekend, that he’ll kill innocents.

He’s not a good person. You’re not either.

You roll back the tape, finding the start of this, and hit play. Dave’s palm traces his bulge through his pajama pants. He’s watching porn, you can hear the over-exaggerated moans through the computer’s tinny speakers.

It’s not the first time you’ve noticed that Dave is hot. After all, you have access to all of the pictures on his laptop. Including the selfies he takes after his runs, muscles glistening with sweat. He’s a bit clean cut for your tastes but right now, he’s something else altogether– the lust in his brown eyes, the control as he teases himself. You swallow hard.

It’s a while before he actually takes his dick out of his pajama pants. You remind yourself repeatedly that you can stop, just click away and let him keep this moment to himself but you’re on the edge of your seat, already throbbing. He finally pulls down his waistband and you’re looking at his upright cock again. It’s thick, a flushed vein running up the underside. He squirts lube into his hand from a bottle that’s just out of frame and when he finally lets his fist move down his length, his eyes sink closed, savoring the sensation.

He touches himself with a practiced motion, gripping the shaft and pulling upwards, a twist of the wrist so that his palm caresses the tip before squeezing back down the length again. His strokes are agonizingly slow. He’s so methodical, patient, like in everything else you’ve discovered.

You’re holding your breath, the suspense aching in your core. There’s plenty of time to study him— those full lips parted, muscles in his arm flexing. Every once in a while he grunts and loosens his grip, keeping himself from going over the edge.

By now, your hand has found its way between your legs. Your fingers trace absentmindedly over the seam in your sleep shorts, already sticky and soaked through. You match Dave’s lazy pace, giving yourself the same pleasure he’s experiencing.

Without taking your eyes off of the screen, you lean over to the set of drawers beside your desk and pull out your favorite vibrator. You shimmy out of your shorts and panties and drag the toy over your needy clit.

You moan with him, watching Dave’s toned arm flex up and down. His bottom lip looks so thick, you want to rake your teeth across it. It’s almost grotesque the way his nostrils flare, the rhythmic grunts that leave him as his hand works faster. The muscles in his neck strain and you can tell he’s close.

You are, too. You swivel your hips against the vibrator, speeding up the thrusts and strengthening its power. Fuck. What would it feel like to have Dave’s mouth on you? His cock in you?

He can’t hold back any longer. Dave’s eyes squeeze shut and his jaw clenches and he makes a noise more animal than man. The eruption of cum is the last thing you see before you’re sent reeling, moaning out your own desperate cry as you pulse around your vibrator.

You take deep breaths as you return to earth, hitting the spacebar to pause the video and blinking back to reality. Your heart rate slows and you wipe your hand across your face. That’s enough work for one night. That might be enough Dave for good. Tomorrow you’ll finalize your report and put him out of your mind.

The vibrator is tossed carelessly onto the desk. You put your panties on but leave your shorts discarded on the floor amongst the rest of your laundry and then you put your computer to sleep. Without the light of the monitors, the room is cloaked in darkness and you drag yourself from your chair a few short paces to the bed.

It’s still dark when you wake, an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You strain your ears for noise, any sign of what woke you but there’s nothing. Then a creak. Your heart leaps into your throat. Someone’s here, in your apartment.

You fumble for your backpack in the dim. Somewhere in the bottom there’s a can of pepper spray that you bought for a situation just like this but your hands are trembling and you can’t see a fucking thing.

A figure appears behind the French door that separates your room from the kitchen and any drowsiness that was lingering evaporates immediately. It’s a man— broad body clothed entirely in black— and in his hand you make out the silhouette of a gun. The room’s too fucking tiny for there to be anywhere decent to hide. There’s no time to think. Your only choice is to brandish your bag as a weapon. He barges in and you swing for his face.

“Fuck,” he grunts but it merely slows him for a moment, knocking hm off balance and his beanie off of his head.

You scramble towards the front door but you’re tackled to the ground, wind knocked out of your lungs. As you gasp for air, you’re flipped onto your back and you find yourself face to face with your assailant. Even in the darkness, through your terror and disorientation, you recognize him.

Dave York glares down at you, his angular face cast in shadows, a menacing snarl on his lips. The muzzle of his silencer is far too close to your face but there’s no shrinking from it with your head against the floor and Dave’s heavy hand on your middle.

“You and I have a problem,” he growls. “You know why I’m here?”

You shake your head frantically, still barely able to fill your lungs.

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I know you’re not stupid,” he says.

He pulls you to your feet as if you weigh nothing and hauls you towards your room. You’re thrown into your desk chair, head still spinning. Dave stands over you and clamps your wrist to the arm rest.

“You know why you’re spying on me?” he asks, a cold threat in his words.

You nod.

“Then you know you don’t want me as your enemy.” You say nothing but a shiver runs down your spine. His eyes are nearly black, reflecting the dull light of the sleeping computer monitors.

“I want your hard drives. Back ups, too. Everything you’ve got on me,” he demands.

“Okay,” you manage. “Would you just get that gun out of my face?”

“Get to it,” he says, and spins your chair so you’re facing the keyboard.

The monitors come to life and, suddenly, you’re in deeper shit. You try to hit a shortcut on the keys to close the window that’s open but your fingers are trembling so hard, you miss. Dave sees it all.

Something changes in him— a tightening in his jaw, a flaring of his nostrils— as he sees the evidence of your surveillance. His spent form, blissed out and covered in his own release hovers on screen. Right where you left him.

Dave’s eyes narrow at the video then slide down to the toy sitting within arms reach and there’s no denying what he can see so plainly.

He rounds on you with a wild look, flinging the chair back so its wheels hit your bed.

“You get off on that?” he demands.

Your heart might have actually stopped for a minute.

“Answer me,” he demands.

“I– No,” you lie.

He appraises you with a deep scowl until a wicked grin spreads on his lips.

“You’re a pretty little thing, huh?” he muses.

He drags the gun across your breast, your nipple hardening beneath the muzzle’s brush. You let out a whimper— out of fear or arousal, you’re not sure. You swear he growls under his breath.

“You’re trouble though,” he says.

You swallow thickly, your entire body quivering.

”Show me,” he says, depositing the gun on the desk and thrusting the toy towards you.

”What?” You ask.

”Show me how you touched yourself,” he tells you.

That’s what you thought he was saying. You stare at him dumbly, too shocked to even protest.

“You watched me. Only seems fair,” he says as if this is some bargain you’re cutting with the man holding the gun. ”Do I have to make you?”

He leans over you, his hand braced on the back of your chair, and presses the vibrator into the gusset of your panties. Rough and clicked onto the highest setting, you squirm and cry out. You’re already so overstimulated, it’s torture and bliss all at once. Your hips buck against the toy but Dave holds your thigh open.

”Okay! Stop! Fuck!” you whine, wrenching at his wrist until he lets up.

You try to catch your breath.

“Take these off,” he instructs, snapping the elastic of your panties against your waist with a thick finger.

You hiss and glare at him but you have no choice but to obey, sliding them down your legs. Dave watches, his eyes darkening once you’re revealed to him. He swears under his breath.

”Look at that mess,” he says.

Your whole body burns but the hunger in his gaze makes your fear take a back seat. Defiantly, you put your hand out for the vibrator. You open your legs wider so he can get a good look at you. There’s a tick in his jaw that gives you some satisfaction.

The vibrator purrs dully in your palm and you take your time bringing it to your clit. A low, long moan leaves you. You’re swollen but slick and even gentle strokes feel electric in your veins.

There’s a tent already forming in Dave’s pants. He’s a killer, sure, but right now he’s horny.

Your head falls back as you continue. His gaze devours each part of you— where the toy glistens against you, your nipples rising and falling below your shirt, the crease in your brow as you keen.

“You’re a filthy girl, huh?” he asks.

You nod and a smile actually pulls at the corner of your lips. It shouldn’t turn you on so much to jerk off in front of a man that has seemingly no hesitations when it comes to killing you but somehow that fact has arousal mounting faster. Your eyes drift closed as you focus on the heady sensation of the friction on your overworked nerves.

The sound of a metallic clink and soft zip distracts you from your reverie. When you look at Dave, you find his hand down the front of his pants, knuckles straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs as he tugs at himself.

“Keep going,” he breathes and you realize you’re staring slack-jawed, desire flooding out any remnants of fear left within you.

After a few blinks, you press the vibrator against your clit again. Your back arches and you give a luxurious sigh for his benefit. His fist tightens, muscles in his neck straining and, fuck, you have to grip the seat of your chair to keep yourself from falling out of it.

With a grunt, Dave’s pushing his jeans out of the way, freeing his cock so he can work himself in the angles he likes, the same ones you watched through his webcam. The sound of his shallow breaths and slick strokes mix with the rumble of your toy and the creak of your chair as you writhe. It’s absolutely maddening. And then he starts babbling. Saying things like, “You like this, huh?” and “Say my name sweetheart.” You do it, panting out the word to a hum of approval.

He crowds you and for a moment you prepare yourself for the chance he’s about to shove his dick down your throat. Instead he’s yanking up your shirt, exposing your tits to the cold air in the room. Dave fondles one and then the other, squeezing the tender flesh with a groan. His hand is much softer than you’d expect for a contract killer, his touch almost gentle as he teases your nipples with the pad of his thumb.

Dave’s expression nearly looks pained, a delicious frown over his plump bottom lip. It makes you mewl and your hips jump.

“You close?” he asks. His voice is ragged.

A breathless nod is all you can manage.

“Good girl,” he rasps.

His words are enough to send you over the edge, with a wanton moan. It crashes over you with so much more intensity than the one that came before it. Your spine locks up, thighs shake as you clench around nothing. Your heart hammers in your chest and between your legs and it’s as if the room is spinning. You twitch in aftershocks, completely spent.

The fog of pleasure has barely lifted when you glance up at Dave, fist still diligently pumping. There’s a fire in his eyes, that untamed excitement.

“Give me one more,” he commands.

“Can’t,” you plead. Need still bubbles at your core but your body is so exhausted from adrenaline and exertion, lust and release.

“You better,” he says.

Dave grinds the vibrator mercilessly against you and you swear aloud. He lets up only for his hand to close around your throat. It’s an unbearable mixture of pleasure and dull ache— the bruising pressure on your clit, the muscles in your thighs taught and burning— underlined by that euphoria. He squeezes around your jaw just hard enough to see stars again.

“That’s right,” he breathes against your cheek, his nose pressed into your temple.

Another orgasm comes almost immediately, pulsing at your core and squeezing through every fiber of your being. This time, you’re quiet, just a high pitched whine like a hurt animal though you’re anything but.

Dave groans. You can hear his teeth gritted though your eyes are shut. He swears and his hot release paints your bare chest, thick and sticky.

Everything stills as you both come down, all loosening muscles and shaky breaths. Dave remains close to you, stroking your cheek. His lips brush your hairline and you notice the smell of his cologne for the first time, something clean and masculine.

Dread should come now. He’s had his fun, now he can do away with you — yet it doesn’t surface.

Slowly Dave stands and tucks himself back into his pants. He almost looks ashamed of himself. You pull your shirt down, covering your stained breasts, and watch Dave smooth his hair.

“So are we good?” you ask.

“If you do what I said,” he answers. “You’re going to get rid of anything you have against me and you’re going to tell your bosses that all you found was a regular guy.”

“Alright, Dave,” you say.

He scowls at you like he doesn’t like your tone. “When I say delete everything, I mean everything,” he says, eyes flitting towards the monitor.

You steal a glance in that direction as well. Dave half naked, still frozen there looking absolutely ruined.

“Understand?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to know if you don’t because I’ll be watching you. And if you cross me, I’m going to come back here and I won’t be so nice to you next time,” Dave says.

You wish that threat didn’t make your body light up like a Christmas tree. It’s absolutely reckless. There’s no chance in hell you’re letting go of that piece of treasure and if the consequence is Dave knocking on your door– or letting himself in– that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

It’s as if he knows. Dave scoffs to himself, then fishes his hat off of the floor along with your panties.

“These are mine now,” he says.

And you’re almost sad to see him go.

comments and reblogs always appreciated! or scream at me in the ask box or dms!

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

#dave york #dave york fic #pedro pascal fic #dave york x f!reader #dave york x hacker!f!reader #equilizer 2 #cw: noncon/dubcon

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meow-moment · 4 months ago

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My distoipian short story i hope you like it

I wake up. I turn off my alarm clock (head implant) and leave my house. My mom is already at work, her job as a looping stripper hologram starts at 3am. I get on the city bus (flying) and head to dystopian megaschool. Chris Pratt Generalized Turbocademy, located in central HyperNeo CyberJersey.

As soon as I arrive the custodian android straps me into my infopod. The VR headset thrusts itself onto my eyes and feeds me two hours straight of propagandvertising (portmantaeu of propaganda+advertising). I am then quizzed.

"Who Won The Neon Wars?" It asks.

"PepsiCo," I answer.

"How Many People Died In The Neon Wars?"

"2.6 Trillion."

"Name One Long-Term Consequence Of The Neon Wars."

"The sun got extinguished."

And the quiz continues. I get every question right- if I got two or more wrong, my infopod would liquefy me and send my remains to the cafeteria to be served as lunch. The headset chastises my handwriting and recommends a stabilizer implant for my wrist. (I already have one but the machine is trying to get me to admit it's a bootleg. If I do admit it, I will also be liquefied.)

After that is lunch. They're serving my favorite today: liquefied students. I meet up with my friends Xyrone, Klazzz, and M.I.K.E. and we gossip together.

Xyrone is a hacker with a headset constantly strapped over his eyes and a bitcoin-mining rig surgically mounted to his back. He doesn't need to study because he can break through the school's firewall and change his grades to A's. We keep asking him to change ours too, but he's a Nova-Libertarian, so he thinks if we want it that bad we should do it ourselves.

Klazzz was recruited at age 8 to pilot a mech in the global manhunt for Saddam Hussien. (He'd have to be 900 years old by now at least, but modern medicine is crazy so I dunno.) A bully thinks it's be funny to mimic an explosion sound with his mouth right behind her, and her combat instincts kick in and she vaporizes him and his posse with her arm-mounted neutron cannon. (If anyone tries to remove it from her body, it shuts down her nervous system and then self-destructs, meaning it's classified as a disability aid)(that's why she's allowed to have it in school)

M.I.K.E. is a closeted singularity. He doesn't think anyone knows but he's obviously such a sjklop (slur for AIs) its not even funny. Sometimes I paint captchas on my face so he can't tell its me and then I beat the fuck out of him. I think it's funny.

We realize we all have next period free so we decide to skip class. On the way to our favorite pizza joint we notice a news bulletin being projected onto the sky. Greg (Eternal God-CEO, President, Emperor-Lord, and Judge of the Northern Hemisphere, as well as founder of tech startup Rooblop) is announcing that we're going to nuke Venus, just in case there are aliens there.

We turn around from the news just in time to realize that M.I.K.E.'s pathfinding has malfunctioned and led him into the middle of the street. He's hit by a car and immediately torn to shreds (all cars have sawblades mounted to the front to discourage jaywalking.) The driver doesn't even bat an eye (he's also an AI, his own pathfinding malfunctions a second later and he makes a sharp left turn into a crowded mall.) I save the footage and post it to the cloud. It gains 2 billion views over the next thirty seconds. Ten seconds after that, a rights organization cancels me for glorifying AI murder. On the horizon, I see a drone strike get called in on my Dystopian Megaschool, and I'm glad I skipped class.

We stop at the Dystopian Mega Pizza Shop on the way home. Their pepperoni is guaranteed to only be 90% liquefied high schoolers, and the cookies they sell even have real Khreim! (not to be confused with Cream, Creme, Kreem, Chreamm, or Kchreeighm.) Unfortunately, the entire restaurant is sold out, as the cadre of CopDrones in the corner bought everything edible in the building to fuel their starved appetites. Klazzz throws a disparaging insult in their direction, and in response they shoot Xyrone 87 times in the chest.

I arrive home. My mom is home on her 30 minute break. She's made meatloaf, made with Tomaytoh Soss(tm,) Garlic, Liquid Teenagers, and a whole lot of love. I give her a big hug. She says she has to run, but there's a special birthday treat in the freezer. I open it up to find a whole pint of ice cream waiting for me. My favorite flavor: mint chip.

And you'll never guess what it's made of.

That's right: Bugs.

THIS POST IS SATIRE

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fashionablyenigmatic · 9 months ago

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Alphonse was about to head to the buffet table, but seeing the crowd gathered around it, he changed his mind. "Better idea—let's raid my kitchen. I have some sausage and pepperoni pizza I prepped earlier. It was Irma's suggestion."

Irma nodded in agreement. "I figured local is best. Less chance for data collection. You know how hackers are."

@sweetandsoursaws

"Oh, Lake, it was Clever. Honestly, it reminded me of my Broadway days when I played Magical Mr. Mistoffelees," Alphonse replied

Irma groaned, "Alphonse, you only performed once because you were an understudy."

Al frowned but brushed it off. "Ignore her. She’s just bitter because she lost the role of Mrs. Lovett to Angela Lansbury."

When the gifts were presented, Irma's expression softened, her gaze turning kinder. Maybe she won’t mess with you... today. "Thank you, this is lovely," she said graciously.

Alphonse, on the other hand, was nearly bouncing with excitement when he received his. "I HAVE A DESK WITH NOTHING BUT DESK TOYS!" He quickly composed himself, putting the gift in its place. "Thank you, Lark. This is delightful."

Irma has turned her attention to the small robot darting around the table and looked at Lake. "Interesting. Does this item have any latency with its organizational skills?"

Al turned his attention to Lark "Lark you look half starved and frankly I need a snack before I look look at more art, So please let me take you away from these two while they discuss..." He grimaced "Organizational robots.." We're artists what's organization?

@sweetandsoursaws

#Alphonse Monroe #Lark and Lake #Irma Tempest

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years ago

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A Year in Illustration

Creating visuals for abstract ideas with the public domain, fair use, Creative Commons and zero artistic talent.

Process notes on Medium.

Image descriptions:

A club-wielding thug whose off-hand is making a ‘give me’ gesture; he is wearing a green eyeshade and standing alongside a desk with a green-shaded lamp on it; in the background is the tri-color Italian flag.

A late 19th century illustration of Gulliver unconscious and bound by the Lillputians; his eyes have been replaced with Turbotax’s checkmark logos and an Intuit logo is stitched on a patch over his breast. Another embroidered patch bearing the Federalist Society logo is stitched over the shoulder of his jacket.

A ransom note that says “Pay Up Or Else” and is pinned down by a bloody hunting knife. A troll holds up a club in triumph.

A ‘thin blue line’ flag but instead of a blue line, you can see the top of a greasy pepperoni pizza.

The state flag of California; the bear is wearing a scrub cap and procedure mask.

Jean-Leon Gerome’s painting Pollice Verso, 1872, depicting gladiators in an arena with noble onlookers giving a thumbs-down gesture. The tapestry before the nobles has been replaced with a US $100 bill in which Ben Franklin’s mouth has been replaced by an Amazon smile logo.

A ‘big brain’ Talosian alien from ‘The Cage,’ the 1965 pilot for Star Trek: the original series; the alien’s face has been replaced with Mark Zuckerberg’s.

A vintage rec-room with hobby equipment. Its floor is animated gold glitter. Posed within it is a male human figure whose head has been replaced with a money-bag.

A still of Michael Meyers as 'Dr Evil' from the Austin Powers movies. He is holding one pinky finger to his lips. His face has been replaced by Peter Thiel's.

A Chinese revolutionary poster depicting a marching army of peasant soldiers. It has been altered so that a man at the front of the column is carrying an Ipad. The image is surmounted by Apple’s ‘Think Different’ wordmark.

A vintage trustbuster cartoon depicting John D Rockefeller holding the Treasury building in the palm of his hand, peering at it through a watchmaker's loupe. Rockefeller's head has been replaced with Sam Bankman-Fried's. His collar bears the Alameda Research wordmark.

Two business-suited male figures seen side on; each has a bomb for a head, and each is holding a lit lighter that has ignited the other's fuse. Each bomb is wearing a green accountant's eyeshade. In the background is a fiery mushroom cloud.

An altered version of J.C. Leyendecker's Labor Day 1946 cover illustration for Hearst's 'American Weekly' magazine. The original features a muscular worker in dungarees sitting atop a banner-draped globe, holding a sledgehammer. In this version, his head has been replaced with a faceless hacker-in-a-hoodie, and his sledgehammer has been filled with Matrix code-waterfall characters. Leyendecker's signature has been replaced with an IWW graphic depicting workers with upraised fists.

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

A statue of Plato with a Greek temple behind him. Plato has been tinted blue and out of his eyes glare the hostile red eyes of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The temple behind him has been tinted dark red. Part of the temple's facade has been replaced with the Matrix 'Code Waterfall' graphic.

Moses confronting the Pharaoh, demanding that he release the Hebrews. Pharaoh's face has been replaced with Elon Musk's. Moses holds a Twitter logo in his outstretched hand. Moses's head has been replaced with the head of Tusky, the Mastodon mascot. The faces embossed in the columns of Pharaoh's audience hall have been replaced with the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The wall over Pharaoh's head has been replaced with a Matrix 'code waterfall' effect.

License information and credits:

Tobias Bomm (modified)

https://www.flickr.com/photos/tobias_bomm/31182687746/in/photolist-NkjzuR-PvvqFm-PozUDp-LnDNQ1-wrWcMy-vaXcuQ-vbLykc

CC BY 2.0

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Zack Middleton (modified)

https://www.flickr.com/photos/ztm/5665782941/

CC BY-SA 2.0

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

Cointelegraph (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sam_Bankman-Fried.png

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

Vectorportal.com (modified) https://vectorportal.com/vector/business-deal-illustration/23215

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

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

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

Mosiac36 (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/mosaic36/14231376315

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Heisenberg Media (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Elon_Musk_-_The_Summit_2013.jpg

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

#pluralistic #gimp #creative commons #social media

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tanoraqui · 3 years ago

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So, what about Celebrimbor's Haunted House Adventure?

I’ve been sitting on this for a couple weeks because I thought the first two parts would be a prologue to a proper (silly) haunted house horror story...but honestly, I’m not gonna improve on the humor here. Also for @katekatharos and an anon.

Partial transcript of in-house call between the desk of the CEO of Fëa Technologies, Inc., and Mechanics Workroom C, where someone finally tracked down the Director of R&D, placed 12:25pm:

M: When this afternoon am I getting the rundown on the new killer robots?

C: What? Next week, when you said you needed the new killer robots by.

M: This week, I said this week. Today, Friday the 13th.

C: Well, you’re not getting them today, because they’re not nearly done yet and I’m leaving early. It’s date night.

M: Yes, yes it is! Which is why I need the killer robots!

C: Tough. Our dinner reservations are at 6:30 and we already got Tyelpe a sitter.

M: Can you come back afterwards to manually—

C: Date night. It’s our anniversary next week. I got a welding studio and a hotel room.

M: Just for an hour—Mala can come too, obviously—

C: Because I want to have future anniversaries, I am not bringing anyone I love, including myself, within 3 miles of your and Fingon’s weird foreplay ever again.

M: …Fine. Say, the robots run on electricity, right? Who’s babysitting Tyelpe?

C: What the fuck did I just say, Nelyo?

Transcript of in-house call between the desk of the CEO of Fëa Technologies, Inc., and his secretary’s desk, placed 12:36pm:

M: Deb, get me a car at 4pm today and reschedule anything I have after that. I’ll be kidnapping my nephew from his after-school program, and when we get back, I’ll need some sort of DVD player, both Home Alone movies, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and anything else you can think of that’s instructive in that genre. Also a large pepperoni pizza—actually, one large pepperoni and one medium everything-meat—and 2 large jars of lightly irradiated peanut butter. And highly caffeinated soda, but I’ll update you on what kind from the car.

LOH Mission Report 002745, filed by Valiant; Summary Page

Operation: Knife’s Edge

Objective: Infiltrate Fëa Tech main offices and steal back the plans for the neutron-splitting knife recently stolen from NOGROD, believed to now be in Fëa’s R&D vaults.

Agents:

Valiant (Operative Class A, 3c-mod 5, flight/weapons skill, team leader)

Blink (OpC B, 2c-mod 2, invisibility)

Rabbit (OpC C, 3c-mod 3, hacker)

Aqualia (OpC C, 3c-mod 2, hydrokinesis)

Phantom (Contractor, 2c-mod 1, professional thief)

Foes:

Spark (3c*-mod 3, electromechanicokinesis)

Phoenix (3c-mod 5, empathic influence (mostly just there to gloat toward the end))

Huan (3c-mod 2, giant Valarin dog (mostly there as babysitter))

way too many robots. even the roombas.

Objective Result: Mixed.

Summary: Plans retrieved (Phoenix’s personal safe, not R&D), but Phoenix likely had copies made and backed up elsewhere. Phoenix is capable of being a Cool Uncle, but pride is still his downfall; I left him handcuffed temporarily incapacitated. 5 agents injured, 1 serious but not life-threatening (Aqualia, broken ankle). Everyone but me got dragged out before reaching objective. Spark could be a real problem if he commits to villainy, but right now he’s mostly just 9 years old.

#the silmarillion #ficlet #superheroes #did i make up an entire superpower classification system for this au? yes #but i explain it in a half-written fic involcing celechwes being suspended over a pit of sharks so i'll share that later maybe #my fic #celebrimbor #maedhros #curufin #fingon #everyone else is ocs #except huan ofc #(for whom the irradiated peanut butter. v important to bribe hte real intended babysitter into compliance)#(also the extra meat pizza)

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snowdice · 3 years ago

Text

Creased Hoodies (Chapter 8: Cheeseburger Bribery) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil, Janus/Patton (background), Remus & Roman (background)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Virgil

Appear: Patton, Roman

Mentioned: Janus, Remus

Summary: Virgil just wanted to go on his planned summer research trip to do an anthropological study in 2005 America. However, when he is taken off course by an unknown enemy, he ends up stranded in the summer of 2018 with no way to get back the the 44rd century. Luckily, 2018 happens to be where a certain illegal time agency is based, and he might have an in with one of its agents.

This is the intermission for the story Folds in Paper. It takes place between Folds in Paper Book 1 and Book 2. It also takes place after the first 5 chapter of “Messages for a Hacker” which are side stories in the universe. Check all of this and more out on my Folds in Time Master Post.

Chapter Summary: Logan gives Patton a yummy bribe.

Notes: Time travel AU

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

The museum ended up being interesting to Virgil. Though, this was not because any of the exhibits taught him anything more about the events they displayed. No, it was interesting to learn what history people in the 21st century cared about and how they presented past events. It was an angle he’d never really thought about studying, but he might put a pin in the idea of going to different museums from this time period to study how the 21st century viewed history.

His and Logan’s conversation quickly became a game of not only finding the mistakes made in the exhibits, but of hypothesizing why those mistakes had been made: prejudice, missing information, and unreliable secondary sources all contributed. Logan’s contributions were a whole lot less technical than the theories Virgil threw out, however he seemed to keep up well.

They spent a few hours in the museum before deciding it was time to head back to Logan’s apartment. However, not before stopping at a small hole-in-the-wall bar inhabited only by day drinkers.

“I have to bring home a peace offering after running off this morning,” he explained to Virgil when questioned. “Patton will forgive me easier if I do and will be more likely to agree to a time travel mission for me.”

“…And Patton likes… vodka?” Virgil asked with an eyebrow raise.

“No,” Logan replied, seemingly amused at the thought. “This establishment serves cheeseburgers which are apparently the ‘best in the city.’ It is the only thing they cook. They don’t even serve fries.”

Virgil gave the location a dubious look but didn’t question it. Sometimes good food was found in the weirdest of places. The best tacos he’d ever eaten had been bought out of a window on the side of a laundry mat in the late 1900s.

When Logan handed him one of the unlabeled brown paper bags that looked as though it had been dipped in hot oil instead of just its contents, Virgil shot him a raised eyebrow.

“Ah yes,” said Virgil dryly as they left the restaurant, “the quintessential 21st century American meal.”

“You once ate only bagged pepperoni slices meant for pizzas as your breakfast for an entire week,” Logan pointed out.

“I told you that in confidence!” Virgil said, smacking him lightly with the bag of grease.

“And I have told no one,” Logan responded. “Therefore, I have not violated any part of our agreement.”

“You’re making fun of me. That’s a part of the agreement too,” Virgil said.

“I don’t remember there being any clauses like that in our verbal contract,” Logan replied with a slight smirk. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Besides, I’m not truly making fun of you. The decision to fuel your body solely with pepperoni is, while not the best strategy and one that would certainly prove detrimental in the long run, better than eating nothing.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Well, good.”

“I am simply citing another example where not perfectly healthy food can be good in the short term,” Logan said.

“But in this case instead of depression eating to stay alive, the purpose is bribery?” Virgil asked.

“Precisely,” Logan said with a smile. “Bribery to end the time distortion and get you back to the proper time.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Virgil conceded. “It’s still horrible nutrition wise.”

“You don’t have to have any if you don’t want it,” Logan promised.

“Oh, no, I’m going to,” Virgil said instantly.

Logan paused and turned to look at him. “Then why are you complaining?”

“I just thought you should know your time has much too greasy food.”

“Thank you for the information,” Logan said dryly. “I’m sure it will be very useful going forward.”

They’d made it to the apartment by then, and Logan stuffed the bag he was carrying under his arm to unlock the door.

“And where have the two of you been all morning?” Patton’s voice called as soon as the two of them walked through the door.

“I have cheeseburgers for you,” was how Logan answered, following his roommate’s voice towards the kitchen. Virgil followed in his wake.

Patton rolled his eyes as Logan set the bag down in front of him. He was sitting at the kitchen table typing on a laptop, but he paused to peak into the bag. “The French toast wasn’t that bad,” he tried to convince them.

“I will take your word on that,” Logan said.

Patton just shook his head and reached into the bag for one of the cheeseburgers. Logan kept looking down at Patton, and obviously that meant something that Virgil didn’t know, because Patton glanced up at him after eating a couple of bites. “What?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Virgil and I went back to the location he arrived at,” Logan told him. “There are signs that one of the devices that cause time distortions caused the crash and is still active in this time.”

“There aren’t any weather disturbances though,” Patton pointed out with a frown.

“It seems to be a more advanced version of the devices we’ve seen so far,” Logan explained. “Which will make it much more difficult to trace.”

“Okay,” Patton said. There was still a good amount of distrust in his tone. “Then what are we going to do about it?”

“Well,” Logan said, “if we could gain access to an older version of the device, we could likely study it and reverse engineer a way to track the current one’s location.”

“And how exactly are we going to get an older version?” Patton asked, eyebrow raised.

“I do understand that you have only been back from your last trip for a little over a week,” Logan said quickly. Patton was already frowning, “and that your last trip through time was a challenging one, but,” he nodded at Virgil, “we do know of the time and place one of these devices exists and I have it on good authority that you have a good chance of finding it, deactivating it, and bringing it home if you travel to Camaguey Cuba 1755.”

Patton groaned. “And judging by the obvious source of this information, I’d be stealing it off of the TPI.”

“Well, yes,” Logan admitted.

“Excellent.”

“At least, in this particular circumstance, you will go into it knowing there will be no major disasters.”

…

Should Virgil… say something? It’d be rude to not mention the whole time shredding almost full party drowning experience, wouldn’t it? Then again… giving him foreknowledge could be a danger to the timestream and he was going into an already messy time disturbance.

Virgil debated with himself on whether general social courtesy should trump the possible destruction of all of space and time.

…

Maybe he’d just suggest a boat if they weren’t already planning to pack him one. Just in case.

“Fine,” Patton said with a sigh, “but you’re finishing your tech updates and my survival pack before I make any jumps. I am not making the same mistakes again.”

Logan nodded. “I can do that,” he agreed. “Give me a list of what you want in your survival pack by tomorrow.”

“I’ve already been working on a list,” Patton said. “It’s in the Google Drive.” He turned back to the computer he’d been working on and typed a few things to pull up a google document. “You can add to it if you think of anything.”

Logan looked over his shoulder at the list. “…Do you really need all of this?”

“Yes,” Patton said, taking another bite of his cheeseburger.

“I will do my best,” Logan said.

“You will do it,” Patton returned.

“Right.”

Patton sighed and turned back to his laptop. “And I’ll start researching Cuba in the 1700s,” he said.

Virgil watched him pull up google on his computer. He looked at the 21st century computer and then back to Patton. He couldn’t help but think of the museum he and Logan had been to earlier, in particular, all of that museum’s inaccuracies.

“Do… you want help?” he offered.

Want to read more? Click below!

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

My Main Masterpost

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #analogical #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #mentioned moceit #mentioned janus sanders #mentioned remus sanders #time travel au #folds in time universe #creased hoodies #adriana writes

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 5 years ago

Text

Worth It

Pairings: Dousy, background Pepperony, FitzSimmons, Philinda, Mackelana, and Huntingbird

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of gun use, mentions of ptsd, light swearing

a/n: Here’s my soulmate au for day 6 of @aosficnet2 ‘s AoS AU August! It’s got Modern Man!Daniel Sousa based on Enver’s appearance as a police officer in The Avengers.

___

Daisy “Quake” Johnson - Inhuman, hacker, Agent of SHIELD, and now she could add “Avenger” to her list of descriptors. The agent hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d received an impromptu meeting with Director Nick Fury about her powers. At the time he had told her he was putting together a team, a group of people with super-human abilities that would work together to defend the world if the threat arose. She had signed on, she was already a SHIELD agent and she’d had plenty of training with her ability from her mom growing up at Afterlife, but she never met the team. Well, until about 24 hours ago. They were a bit of a nightmare (a complete shitshow if she was being blunt), none of them had worked together before so it was no surprise that they were butting heads. Daisy got along just fine with Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow as the two of them had crossed paths from time to time within SHIELD, but she couldn’t say the same for scientist Bruce Banner (the Hulk), billionaire Tony Stark (Iron Man), or the first-ever superhero Steve Rogers (Captain America). Of course, now they were also dealing with a Norse god of thunder who was supposedly good and his brother who was apparently bad. Thor, Stark, and Rogers: three massive egos in one aircraft.

Judging by the footage they were streaming from the museum Loki was more than just bad. Daisy had always been wary of powers, her mom had taught her that. Power was extremely dangerous when put in the wrong hands, that’s why Afterlife was so selective in choosing who got to go through terrigenesis. Loki was clearly the wrong hands and even though she really hated the men she was surrounded with, if they were the world’s only hope then she’d put up with them.

“So you expect me to believe there is life on other planets?”

Daisy sighed, trying not to get too frustrated. The man had been in the ice for seventy years, he missed a lot and probably had no reason to expect that “aliens” existed. Of course, she had known the truth since she was a child: not only was it highly probable that life existed elsewhere in the galaxy, but she was part-alien herself. Of course, no one else knew that. Inhumans were a secret from the rest of the world and it would need to stay that way.

“Oh, I’m sorry Seismic Activity, did you know that already?” Stark asked sarcastically, raising a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Quake, actually, and yeah, I knew that, statistically, it was highly probable that alien life exists,” she bit back, glaring at the man, “Just about everyone in this century knows that.”

“Agent Johnson if you have some sort of issue with when I was born then you should just come out and say it,” Cap said, a frown on his face as he sat up in his chair.

“Look, I couldn’t give two shits whether you were born yesterday or a thousand years ago, I just don’t think we really have time to be debating extraterrestrial life right now,” Daisy said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again as she gestured to the holoscreen displaying Loki’s cell.

“She’s right, gear up.” Director Fury said. Daisy wasn’t sure when he had entered but she was glad he was taking her side. “We’re under attack.”

Daisy nodded, rushing out of the room to find her gauntlets and her weapons. It wasn’t a great idea to quake on a giant helicarrier so she’d probably be fighting old school.

“Woah, what the hell is that Johnson?” Natasha Romanoff was sneakier than Fury and Daisy hadn’t even known she was in the room until her wrist was tightly in the woman’s grasp.

She sighed, tugging her arm out of the redhead’s grip and slipping on her gauntlet to cover the writing. The marks weren’t uncommon, most of the world had them. They developed at age 16 and were usually the first words your soulmate said to you. However, not everyone got one or soulmates died and SHIELD specialized in utilizing the soulmark-less. That’s not to say there weren’t agents with soul marks in the organization, for ordinary agents SHIELD held a mostly don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Typically the only way to get into high-risk assignments like the Avengers was to prove the lack of a soulmate, but of course, the Avengers were less than typical.

“They make exceptions for people with powers.” She brushed it off, slipping on her other gauntlet.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re connected to someone,” Natasha argued and Daisy huffed, turning away.

“Stark’s got a mark, and he’s actually met his soulmate. If something happens to me mine’ll never know what they missed.”

Daisy quickly slid her various knives and guns into place in their holsters before leaving, effectively putting an end to one of the worst conversations she’d had in a while. She didn’t need the Black Widow to guilt-trip her, she had herself for that. She’d heard the stories about the pain people felt when their soulmate died and it often kept her up at night, but right now she had a job to do and she’d be damned if she sacrificed the world for one person she hadn’t even met.

Of course, her dedication to the cause hadn’t mattered much, she still wound up on the floor of the helicarrier with Phil Coulson bleeding out. She didn’t know the man super well, but he was usually the agent present whenever an 0-8-4 was discovered and since Daisy was something of an 0-8-4 herself, they crossed paths pretty frequently. She knew he was an upstanding and kind man, she knew he was a good agent, and she knew he didn’t deserve to die like this.

It wasn’t long until Fury came and swept him away and Hill ushered her back into the briefing room where some of the others were gathered. They all looked worse for wear and apparently they were about ready to give up. The Hulk was gone, Loki had jettisoned Thor from the airship, and he has the tesseract and would likely be taking over earth shortly. Daisy couldn’t believe it.

“I just watched several good agents die, and you want to throw in the towel? Do you have any respect for yourselves?” She questioned, glaring at Rogers and Stark.

She stormed out when she was met with silence, passing Fury in the hallway. She wanted desperately to change out of her skintight Quake suit and get cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet, opting instead to unzip the top half, tying the sleeves around her waist. She wandered around the ship like that, her sports bra the only thing covering her torso, before finding herself on the top deck, leaning over a railing.

“Have you met them yet?”

Daisy turned to see Rogers gesturing to her wrist where the words “Who the hell are you?” were written in a neat script.

“Nah,” she shook her head, barely concealing her disappointment with a smile.

“You’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find you.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for not berating me for risking my life while my soulmate is out there somewhere.”

“Hey, I hid my makr to join a highly experimental drug trial and enlist in World War Two so I don’t have much room for judgment.” He joked and Daisy laughed, feeling a little better.

___

Daniel Sousa had been sure this would be another day at the station as he slipped his uniform over his shoulders, covering the soulmark on the back of his shoulder. Soulmarks appeared when a person turned 16, appearing at the place where their soulmate would first come in contact with them. The combination of the location of his mark and the words (“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go”) had always been a mystery to him though he hoped he would solve it soon.

He took the subway to the station, just like he did every morning. Daniel was a police officer for the 99th precinct in NYC which was about a fifteen-minute subway ride away from his apartment. Despite its obvious flaws (thanks MTA), he liked taking the subway - it was more environmentally friendly than driving himself, it was much faster than trying to make it through New York traffic or walk (though sometimes he did walk when it was nice and his leg wasn’t bugging him as much), and the crowds increased the probability that he’d come across his soulmate.

She wasn’t on the subway today again and so Daniel resigned himself to daydreams of how they might meet. He hoped it would be romantic, that she’d bump into him accidentally (it was the best way he could explain the back of his shoulder), maybe he’d catch her as she tripped over him and they’d lock eyes and she’d take his breath away. He pushed away the fears that she would be freaked out by his prosthetic or the fact that her words on his shoulder didn’t fit that scenario at all. He wanted their meeting to be perfect for her.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by his partner, Jack Thompson, telling him they had to go check out a call downtown. There weren’t any detectives involved so it likely wasn’t anything serious- probably a noise complaint or something equally mundane.

Daniel had been right, the call was a typical noise complaint, easily solved and probably ignored as soon as they left the building (Jack bet they’d be back in 24 hours, Daniel gave it 32). However, he never could’ve guessed that when they went to climb back into the squad car a portal would open up in the sky and a bunch of space creatures would attack earth. Thompson grabbed the radio to inform the station of the situation. It took a few minutes of convincing (he didn’t blame them, he only believed it because he was seeing it) and a few more to figure out what to do (there really isn’t an official protocol for Hostile Alien Invasion) before they were told to stay put and that backup was on the way.

Daniel reached for his gun, steeling himself for the fight he was sure he was about to be involved in. An alien invasion would be a really bad time for his crippling ptsd. Still, he was sure his hand would shake if he had to actually lift his gun, his finger would hesitate on the trigger, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes open because if he closed them all he’d see was Afghanistan.

“Sousa you with me?” Thompson asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath, when had he stopped breathing?

Thompson nodded, more to himself than to Daniel, “Good, cause we’re going to get through this.”

___

If she had been really thinking at all, she might’ve wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience as she moved through the streets of Manhattan with the purpose of a woman on a mission. The Avengers were scattered across the borough trying to fight the Chitauri with mixed success. It seemed like no matter how many they blasted, quaked, shot, or struck with lightning more kept coming through the portal. Daisy was taking out as many of the aliens as she could while trying to command the local police forces- badges or not, they were purely human and severely underprepared to fight this threat. Their services were more equipped to evacuate and protect the civilians.

She hadn’t been paying attention when she knocked into someone’s shoulder. It was a police officer, she noticed, though where most of the officers she’d seen seemed ready to take on the Chitauri head-on, he looked terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could run off.

“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go.” Daisy bit back angrily and the man gasped, dropping her arm and backing away like she had burned him.

“You’re- we’re-” The man stuttered and even though he could’ve been about to say anything (maybe “you’re Quake!” or “We’re gonna die!”) Daisy knew exactly what he meant. She knew from the burning sensation on the wrist he had been holding. He was her soulmate.

“Oh my god, I don’t have time for this!” Daisy yelled angrily, quaking the alien that had appeared behind the man.

She silently cursed fate or destiny or whatever was behind this for planning her soulmate meeting during a literal alien invasion.

“Listen, I need you to leave the frontlines- spread the word: all officers are to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Focus on protecting them.” She ordered making an effort to put the world-altering event before the life-altering event she had accidentally just stumbled upon.

“Who’s going to be there to fight?”

Daisy quaked another approaching Chitauri soldier. “Leave that to the people with powers.”

The officer nodded mutely, seemingly stunned into silence.

“Sousa!” Another officer called out, “Quit chatting we have a job to do!”

The dark-haired officer, her soulmate, nodded to the man and started to move away.

“Officer Sousa!” Daisy called, taking steps backward herself, “Maybe we can get some coffee when this is all done?”

“Sure but how’ll I find you?” He asked, turning back to stare at her hopefully.

Daisy’s steps were picking up speed, the urgency of the day not lost on her. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you!”

And with that she was off, turning on her heels and sprinting towards Stark Tower.

___

Daisy stared at the computer monitor in front of her. It had been a few days since the Chitauri attack and while New York and her mental state was still a disaster, she needed to do this. The file she had found in SHIELD’s database was a welcome distraction, as was the handsome face staring back at her from the screen.

Daniel Jordan Sousa. Born 1984 in Twin Falls, Idaho. Served one tour in Afghanistan before being discharged due to an injury resulting in the amputation of his left leg.

She scrolled down to the contact information.

Cellphone: (xxx)xxx-xxxx

Bingo.

Daisy: Hi, it’s Daisy Johnson, your soulmate? I was wondering if we could get that coffee?

She was surprised by how quickly he responded.

Daniel: I’d love to!

Daniel: btw how did you get my number?

Daisy: It’s a bit of a story, mind if I tell you over that coffee?

Daniel: does 1:00 work? Maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we’re at it?

Daisy smiled before checking the time, 11 o’clock. She had two hours to get ready.

Daisy: 1:00 sounds great. I know a cute place off 12th ave

___

Daniel had no intention of pulling his soulmate from the field, he knew it was where she wanted to be and he’d never dream of taking it from her. However, he’d be damned if he wasn’t out there to watch her back. So, he joined SHIELD not long after they met. Despite his prosthetic, he climbed the ranks relatively quickly though Daisy wasn’t surprised. She had seen his record both in the military and the police force, Daniel Sousa was a damn fine agent.

The two weren’t in any hurry relationship-wise. They had moved in together fairly quickly but even two years later they had yet to get engaged. It was a bit of an anomaly - soulmates were usually hitched within a year of meeting each other but Daisy didn’t really hold much stock in a piece of paper declaring their relationship valid and Daniel decided he really didn’t need that paper either as long as he still had Daisy. Besides, with their separate jobs at SHIELD, they didn’t really have much time to plan engagements or weddings.

In 2014 the pair were recruited to an elite team by Phil Coulson, the man Daisy could’ve sworn had died in her arms, the man the Avengers were told had died. She had shaken her head at Fury when she found out. “You manipulative son of a bitch,” she had said though she had meant it fondly. Who knows what would’ve happened when the Chitauri invaded if he hadn’t done what he had.

Daisy and Daniel joined scientist duo and soulmates Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz as well as Coulson’s soulmate Melinda May on the Bus, a giant plane Fury had given Coulson as reparations for his death. The team had its bumps in its initial missions but they quickly became a tightly knit family that only grew when Coulson took over as Director of SHIELD after the Hydra takeover.

When Daniel finally proposed Jemma had been her maid of honor and Bobbi and Elena had been her bridesmaids. Likewise, Fitz had been Daniel’s best man and Mack and Hunter had filled out the rest of the groomsmen roles. It had been a small but beautiful wedding, Daisy’s mom had allowed them to have the ceremony at Afterlife and Coulson and May had been their officiants.

Daisy had cursed fate when they met, but looking back she realized it was all worth it for this.

___

a/n: I had no idea how to end this. Also, I have no clue where the 99th precinct operates in NYC (if it even exists) I just wanted to make a Brooklyn 99 reference. Though I’m realizing belatedly that B99 takes place in Brooklyn and probably doesn’t operate in manhattan but oh well.

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firstdmschuylerbblog · 4 years ago

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Skyler was born in London but grew up in New York, and was raised by his paternal grandparents – a famous sci-fi writer and a talented cabaret singer. Thanks to them, he finally managed to accept the fact that his parents had selfishly abandoned him. After his grandparents’ death, however, Skyler felt incredibly lost again. It wouldn’t have ended well for him if he hadn’t discovered how interesting computers and programming languages could be, which helped him stay away from trouble... for some time at least. He doesn't care about his parents – who still live in London – and tries to stay away from his past as much as he can.

Skyler Bane / not ‘Sky’ / 28 / British American / IT & hacker / liar&great pretender / hates formal wear / loves bad puns&The Matrix / says FUCK a lot / has 2 silly tattoos and one that is pretty normal / likes photography & pepperoni pizza / will find trouble before trouble finds him

#dmfmintro #tw:death

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yourlocalpizzaguyelliot · 4 months ago

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MOD RULES

━━━━━━━━━━━

1. Nothing about Gaza, or Palestine or war or anything again you will be blocked.

2. No discourse, hate, or drama brought to my blog. You will be blocked.

3. Mod is a minor, nothing NSFW, suggestive is fine, but I'll decide whether I'll answer your ask or not.

4. DON'T criticize or "correct" how I roleplay Elliot. You will be blocked.

This is subject to

change or be added onto.

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Name ; Elliot Finch

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Important interaction / info posts !!

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Chance & Ells - Trigger Warning Self Harm

Before event

Event ; MELTING POINT

Melting point how it happened.

Event start

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Kasper , Radio , or Bramble // He / It / Ask

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#pizza box - rp tag

#toppings - in character posts

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#> gambling 4 pizza < - @casino-connoisseur

#> blades and pizza < - @divine-swordsmaster (sorry if you don't want pinged)

#> builder brothers pizza < - @theworldsarchitect (sorry for the ping lmoa)

#> the roots yearn for you < - @/treeparamind

#> Hackers and Pepperoni < - @

#> mafias pizza boy < - @godfather-hare.

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hollenka99 · 5 years ago

Text

The One Where Jackie Meets The Others

Summary: Chapter 4. Jackie enjoys a couple trips out with Marvin.

Warnings: death and blood mentions

@bupine @badlypostedeverything

Things don't smoothly transition back to the way they were following that morning. However, they both agreed it was clear Anti's intentions were to divide them. Therefore, it would be dumb to give him that satisfaction. When Marvin asks, out of pure curiosity, about the mullet, Jackie doesn't really have an answer. He'd simply liked the style. But maybe it was time to move on. The chances of him returning to the '80s were particularly slim. With the green having faded weeks ago, he has it cut so it now only reaches his ears. The style is nice but he does miss his old look. He supposes Marvin was pleased with this development. He definitely got a lot of joy from teasing Jackie about how much curlier his shorter hair became following showers. The only quip he has in response is that the hero's hair wasn't much better when wet either. The next thing on the agenda was the excursion to Pizza Hut. The four of them agree to meet on Thursday. In preparation, Marvin offers Jackie a copy of the restaurant's document on allergy information. Marvin faces falls when he learns just how many items he loved posed a certain risk to Jackie's health. Nope, no pepperoni for him. No garlic breadsticks or cheesy fries either. Fried items were a contamination risk too, apparently. He lies when his friend asks about stuffed crust. Jackie trying the crust option was one of the main reasons they'd agreed to visit the establishment. Besides, it wasn't guaranteed it would trigger a reaction. He could possibly get away with sampling a little of Marvin's crust if he didn't push his luck. It is comforting to learn Henrik, the friend who made educational videos for others, had coeliac's disease and therefore had to be wary when eating as well. Jameson was Marvin's cousin of sorts. Their grandmothers had been sisters. Then their mothers were friends, leading to their sons to develop a good relationship while growing up. Jameson was a performer who used his control over time and sound for entertainment purposes. He and Marvin frustratingly run late due to the hero misplacing his wallet. They are apologetic to Henrik and Jameson who have already found a table and ordered drinks for themselves. Jameson has neat brown hair that extends down his face to his jawline and closely surrounds his mouth. Henrik, on the other hand, has black hair which has been swept back as well as glasses. The two of them promise they don't mind the delay. They haven't been here for ages anyway. In time, four pizzas are delivered to the table. There is the pan BBQ americano, gluten free Hawaiian, cheesy bites pepperoni and stuffed crust BBQ beef and onion. Marvin suggests he and Jackie trade a slice. His friend makes a supposedly humourous comment about how he identifies as Jackie's pizza base but it's lost on the former drummer. How someone can deeply relate to dough that's been baked in a pan, Jackie has no clue. He allows Marvin to take a slice regardless. However, when it comes to him returning the gesture, Jackie insists he only wants a little bit of his friend's crust. Half a slice's worth of stuffed crust is placed on top of his own pizza. Jackie regrets it as soon as it enters his mouth. God damn it, it was actually really tasty. He could see why Marvin was so enthusiastic about it. His expression remains neutral as he chews, well aware he has an audience. He hates how disappointed Marvin looks when Jackie gives a bullshit review about the cheese within being too chewy. Allergies and cross-contamination risks fucking sucked. Screw his body for being an asshole who overreacted to a commonly used spice. "Oh well, more for me." Marvin winks as he recovers from the blow before stealing a piece of chicken from Jackie plate. Alright, maybe letting one small inconvenience ruin tonight in his mind was stupid. Marvin had said he'd act as translator. Which was a lovely gesture. Jackie was grateful he was prepared to sacrifice part of his evening to play the middleman so he and Jameson could communicate. Except Marvin got sidetracked at one point and had delved into a whole conversation with his cousin, spoke entirely in BSL. It looked like a funny one too. Jackie was glad the pair were enjoying their evening. He stuck to conversing with Henrik instead. It's a struggle as they don't seem to have much in common. That is until Jackie absentmindedly asked what sort of food Henrik enjoyed. This in turn triggered the German man sitting opposite him to enthuse about fried potato slices with pieces of bacon and onion. Jackie himself launches into a story about how his mother used to work with a woman who had family in West Germany. Then this German colleague would sometimes write down a recipe or two to give to them. In no uncertain terms, those foreign dishes beat jacket potatoes or beans on toast any day. The four men give their stomachs a chance to settle a little while they chat as a group. Then it was time to finish off the night with ice cream shakes. Two strawberries, an oreo and a chocoholic are brought to the table. Although there had been several mentions of what Jameson did for a living, it is only at this point that a proper conversation about is initiated. "Jameson's doing a show on the 4th. I think we should go. What do you say?" Jackie's response is delayed due to Marvin making the suggestion just as he takes a long sip of his strawberry shake. "Oh uh, yeah, sure. What exactly will be in the show? Time stuff, right?" Jameson taps the side of his nose with a wry smile. The younger of the cousins translates this as "I believe he's saying that's for him to know and for you to find out." The performer signs something. "Expect the unexpected." Marvin rolls his eyes with a smile remaining on his face. "Oh yeah, like when you get a younger member of the audience to volunteer for your sound tricks. I once heard Hacker T Dog from CBBC sing Thinking Out Loud, you know. That was an experience." Jameson makes a comment. "I haven't seen the weirdest combinations? Well yeah, I sure hope I haven't. Kids' minds can come up with bizarre things. Henrik, especially, should know that." Henrik nods to this with a sense that this was a profound understatement. The banter carries on and Jackie soon feels like less of an outsider. The ice creams shakes eventually get drained as the evening draws to a close. Once all the goodbyes and "It was nice to meet you"s are over, the tow of them hop into Marvin's car to head home. Bohemian Rhapsody happens to begin playing on the radio as they set off. Jackie doesn't even have to ask before he's turning the volume up for both their benefits. They haphazardly fall into a duet. Jackie's heard Marvin singing absentmindedly to himself before this. He therefore already knows he has a good voice. But it isn't until tonight that he's able to hear it out loud. "I need you to do me a favour. Do you mind headbanging like in Wayne's World?" "What?" "Wayne's World. Never seen the film myself but there's a pretty well known scene where a bunch of them are in the car while this song is playing. Then during the instrumental that's coming up, they really rock out. I've always wanted to do it while in a car but I always seem to be the driver when I get the chance. So do you mind rocking out in a minute on my behalf?" Jackie chuckles. "Sure. My pleasure." As Freddie finishes claiming Beelzebub has a devil put aside for him, Jackie springs into action. He moves his head back and forth in rapid succession to the music. The pair follow along with the next verse as loudly as possible. At least, they attempt to. It isn't long before they have both descended into raucous laughter. "Thanks!" Marvin manages in between breaths when it calms. "We should do that again. With us stationary next time so you can do it too." "Deal." Marvin bursts into laughter once more and Jackie thinks he's growing particularly fond of it. --- Another crime scene, another person fighting to remain alive while bleeding from the neck. Cat is only able to stand by while the paramedics do their job. He'd like to beg them to not take this guy to hospital, to not risk history repeating itself. But it's not like he can ask anyone to skip properly treating the victim. He's sure everyone here knows this situation is a catch 22. However, they can't do anything other than perform their jobs. It takes great deal of convincing but Cat is allowed to stay outside the patient's room for the night. He's been standing guard for a good while when midnight passes. A doctor comes along on her rounds. She speaks to Cat and the other member of security he's been spending the night with. While she's talking, Anti's latest victim begins coding. Any and all resuscitation efforts prove futile. The guy is gone. So is the doctor. If she even existed in the first place. And Cat suspects Anti himself is long gone too. The day afterwards, he catches some reporting of the murder while flicking through channels. The victim has an identity now. There's a name, age and grieving loved ones. The television is bitterly switched off as Marvin searches for his notebook instead. Joining the countless other entries is 27/4/19 - Nick Shaw, 34, wife + 2 little kids The next time he sees Anti, he's not fucking around. Enough was enough. Marvin was putting a stop to this once and for all, by whatever method was necessary. --- The first Saturday of May is a cloudy one. That doesn't stop a crowd from flocking to the Jolly Gentleman's show. Chase is still getting out of the car when Niamh races out, the name Oscar having barely left her mouth before doing so. It is with great relief that Chase witnesses his daughter collide with a familiar man. The pair of single fathers briefly kiss as a part of a greeting while the five year old girl is returned. Her twin sister and older brother hover around as the greetings continue. Eventually, Fletcher drifts into his own group with both of Oscar's boys. The seven of them make their way inside. "So where is this friend of yours?" Oscar asks as they take their seats. "Do you see him?" "Not yet. He should be bringing his new roommate with him." His scanning of the tent is halted. "Speak of the devil." Chase spots Marvin entering the area, along with another man whom his best assumptions identified as Jackie. They seat themselves in the same row as the fathers. The children sit directly in front of the adults. Marvin introduces him to Jackie as Dr Chase Brody, emphasising the title. "I'm just spending the day out with my kids, there's no need to be throwing my doctorate around. Chase." He offers his hand for Jackie to shake. "And this is Fletcher, Ciera and Niamh." Oscar carries on the round of greetings by introducing himself, Milo and Max. They spend a full minute going through the mundane pleasantries before Marvin and Jackie finally stay seated. As the performance begins, Chase relaxes. They'd filled the wait time with small talk and chatter amongst themselves, however, he had intended for today to be a chance to spend time with his partner. He gives Marvin the benefit of the doubt. The thing is, Jackie came across as a decent enough guy. He also understandably seemed a little overwhelmed by the amount of people in the group. If the chit chat served as a distraction, then fine by him. Besides, he only looked like he was in his late teens anyway. They did share a history of drumming when they were younger though which was a nice surprise. That certainly allowed for a whole avenue of conversation. As soon as Jameson emerged to start his performance, the auditory atmosphere changed. There were speakers around the place and at certain points of the show it almost felt as if the sound was travelling around the space as a physical thing. He also seemingly teleported to a different spot than moments before. A woman was completely flabbergasted when she discovered a small thank you card in her handbag that certainly hadn't been there when she arrived with no easy explanation for how it got there. Throughout the performance, one of his colleagues acted as his commentator. Among his other tricks, the Jolly Gentleman sets a row of plants on fire with an elongated lighter. One of his colleagues dramatically shows up with a bucket of water to extinguish it. The performer stops him with a raised hand. He then holds the lighter, still producing a flame, up for the audience. It trails across the plants, erasing any evidence that there had been any combustion taking places. Not a single scorch mark or hint of smoke in sight. A little girl is summoned from the audience. She's about the twins' age, maybe slightly younger. After being asked what her favourite character was (Daddy Pig, of all things) she was encouraged to sing a song she really liked (I'm a Little Teapot). Already familiar with work stories his friend had, he knew what to expect. The crowd was treated to Daddy Pig's rendition of I'm a Little Teapot, complete with actions. Or at least, they were partially treated to it as the volunteer kept giggling into the microphone throughout her performance. It is evident that Jackie is too enthralled by the show to notice the barely subtle yet fond glances in his direction from the one sitting next to him. Ah, so it was like that, huh? Good for them. Chase catches Marvin's arm as they head out, taking advantage of Jackie going to speak with Jameson. It would be more discreet if Marvin's friend wasn't in earshot. With a wink, he teases his friend. "And they were roommates." "Hey, shut up. It's not like that." "Sure. And Oscar is nothing more than my buddy." "Chase-" "Seriously, what have you got to lose? If he's straight then it might get a little awkward for a moment. But I feel like he would be reasonable and appreciate the honesty. Well, you know him better than I do. You tell me." "You sure?" "Listen, I was already married to a woman when I started being cool with liking dudes. But since the split I've been around the block a few times. It is going to be fine." Marvin moves towards his car as Jackie re-emerges from backstage. It's clear he's still very much skeptical about it all. "If you say so, Chase." ---- Joel makes the judgement that Jackie would probably be fine to travel through his portals a week later. His apartment is pleasant. The ledge of one of his windows has a cushion to improve comfort. Jackie notices remnants of blu tack on the wall where something had clear been removed, which was odd. He almost makes a joke about it but decides against it. "Well... fáilte!" Joel spreads his arms to gesture to the whole room. "Wait, you know some Irish?" "Yep. Had an Irish grandmother who got me conversational." "Really? Nice. In that case, go raibh maith agat." Jackie chuckles. "So... anyway, you going to tell me how you know I'm from '86 or not?" "Okay, so you already know about my portals." "Are you trying to tell me you portalled me through time?" "What?! No, of course not. Bold of you to assume I have any control over the 4th dimension. I meant, I have powers and therefore I inherited the ability to have them." "So how then?" "One of my dads has a time based power and I guess, that trickled down to me a little. Stuff like that happens sometimes. I think Jameson might have an unusually strong immune system because his mother has enhanced immunity. Either way, I just have a sixth sense for time stuff." "...Right." Joel huffs in annoyance. "Alright, believe me or don't. The point is I want to help you go back to your own time if that's what you want." Ah. That's where that elephant was hiding. He was slowly getting used to the future but there was an inexplicable longing to return to where he came from. He was never meant to be 20 in 2019. There was no denying that fact. And as much as he enjoyed hanging out with Marvin and the rest of his new friends, it felt wrong somehow. That said, he was particularly good at going with the flow where necessary. If he was stuck in this century for good, then he'd deal with that. But if there was a chance he could be returned to 1986, there was no way he wouldn't take it. "How?" A sly smile appears on Joel's face. "Ah, for that, we will need Jameson and Henrik's help. All we have to do is wait for the right moment to ask for it. And seeing as it's now May, I don't think we'll have to wait that long."

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #my writing #writersofjack #jumbled au #tw death mention #tw blood mention

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riddl3r · 6 years ago

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CHARACTER INTERVIEW / HEADCANONS

BASICS !

NAME : Edward Nashton Nygma NICKNAME : does Eddie count? or THE RIDDLER AGE : 25 in s1, can you believe that the smug asshole in the banner is 27-28 SPECIES : human

PERSONAL !

MORALITY : (closer to) chaotic neutral and maybe some parts of neutral evil RELIGION : atheist SINS : greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES : chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice KNOWN LANGUAGES : English, French, Spanish, Russian, Latin, Ancient Greek, some modern Greek, German, some Hebrew. Verse dependent, but he learns some Hungarian because he wants to impress Oswald. SECRETS : his childhood?

PHYSICAL !

BUILD : scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average HEIGHT : 6′00′’ or 185cm SCARS / BIRTHMARKS : he has a few small scars from his childhood, a shot wound on his upper arm, two scars from being stabbed on his leg and abdomen ABILITIES / POWERS : genius level intelligect. among other things he can build pretty much anything, excellent hacker. RESTRICTIONS : his mental disorders (mainly OCD & DID), when he is not taking care of himself.

FAVORITES !

FOOD : Chicken fingers PIZZA TOPPING : pepperoni COLOR : green, blue MUSIC GENRE : multiple / classical MOVIE GENRE : documentaries, then it depends on the film CURSE WORD : oh dear. he doesn’t curse. if he has to, ‘fuck’ SCENTS : mint

FUN STUFF !

TOP OR BOTTOM : mostly a top, but he switches. SINGS IN THE SHOWER : sometimes!

LIKES PUNS : he loves them!

Tagged by: @feltcalling Tagging: @eloquentyrant, @lovesgctham and whoever else wants to do it!

#tag game #thank you for tagging me!!

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afteriwake · 6 years ago

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A Potential Loophole To Exploit (8/10 - A “Just Pieces On The Board” Story)

And here’s a little bit of Pepperony and Tony’s interactions with some of the other women gathered in Asgard. And also, I think two more chapters and this baby is done!

A Potential Loophole To Exploit - After Thor and Loki leave a meeting with their mother, they start to talk about what can be done to stave off the foretold arrival of their sister, Hela, and begin to make plans.

Tony had found that the hacker from S.H.I.E.L.D. and Foster’s assistant had gone to the same section of the palace grounds as he had, being lured by a look at the technology. They were attractive women, but he wasn’t about to flirt with either of them, despite the fact that he used to go after women their age fairly often in the days BP, or Before Pepper. And speaking of her…

He wasn’t sure if he’d have cell phone reception here, but he doubted it. He was glad their tour was being led by the woman introduced as Sif. She seemed a little dour but polite, if blunt. And he hoped she didn’t mind having her conversation with Skye and Darcy interrupted.

“...a pub in London?” Sif was asking. “I suppose I could go to Earth again for a bit to join my soon to be new team.”

“Cool,” Darcy said. “I’m being told I have to go too. Something about how Thor said Jane would get lonely.” She rolled her eyes. “With him there, I doubt that will be a thing that is happening.”

“Well, I’ve only been to London once or twice myself, and you actually spent time in the area, so if it gets boring you and I can go pub hopping,” Skye said, linking her arm through Darcy’s.

“There’s a party and I’m not invited?” Tony said with a grin, finding that to be the most logical way into the conversation. “I’m hurt.”

“Oh my God, if you came that would make Fitzsimmon’s night if you don’t mind having your ear talked off by our resident science siblings.”

“Someone once said Bruce Banner and I were ‘Science Bros,’” Tony said. “But before I say yes, I need to find a way to communicate back with Earth. I don’t think my cell phone can handle the roaming, though who knows.”

“I think we should be able to come up with a way,” Sif said with a smile. “Back before the Bifrost was repaired, Thor wished to try and communicate with Dr. Foster.” Her lips seemed to thin a bit at her name. That was curious. “It was not finished before the Bifrost was functional again, but it was what we used to contact the Son of Coul to start making the arrangments for today.”

“Technology that can span the universe for a single conversation?” Tony said, impressed. He could see Skye’s eyes sparkling as well. “You know, that could be some of the tech I could talk Molly into letting me have.”

“Hell no,” Skye said. “I want first crack at a communications system like that.”

“We could share?” Tony suggested, tilting his head. “I’ve heard about you. It could be interesting to see what you and I could do together.” And he meant it. Skye was formidable from what Coulson had said with her computer hacking skills. Technology seemed to be her thing and if Molly was going to take the really good stuff for S.H.I.E.L.D. then he could take S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best programmer to help him for a bit. If Skye agreed that was.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she said with a grin, but he was pretty sure she’d agree.

“You take your time, but I do actually hope you say yes. I’m not above using flattery, and maybe even bribes. Not that you probably couldn’t crack Stark Industry’s computer system on your own and take whatever you want.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Skye said as they entered a room that he had the feeling housed the communication system. Both of them stopped their banter and stared at the sophisticated system with wide eyes. “Damn, this is cool.”

“It certainly is,” he said, his voice humming with reverence. He moved over to look at it more closely, leaning in to take in the schematics in his head. He had the feeling that talented as he was, this was something he never would have been able to dream up on his own, and he really wanted to spend time with it.

Sif looked back and forth between them and then turned to Darcy. “I see this has captivated their attention.”

“Oh yeah. I don’t think we’ll be leaving for a while,” she said. He could see Darcy grin back at her when he shot them a quick look. “Not that I mind. I mean, technology isn’t my thing, but this is pretty cool.”

“What is your thing?” Tony asked, turning back to the machine.

“Honestly? Still not sure. I’m a poli sci major, not a science science major. I think I’ll figure it out eventually, but in the meantime, I’m gonna enjoy the cool perks of working with Jane.”

“Makes sense,” Tony said. He looked over at Sif. “I need to talk to Pepper Potts. Can you get in touch with a specific person?”

Sif nodded. “That shouldn’t pose a problem.” She began to move to the machine, operating it. He marveled at what she was doing, and he could see Skye doing the same thing. Soon, he saw Pepper as clearly as if they were Skyping.

“Tony! How are you…?” Pepper asked.

“Asgardian technology. Don’t worry, I got Stark Industries a lion’s share to work with, but I may not be coming home tonight. I’ve been asked to hit the pub with the S.H.I.E.L.D. team and I’m going to try and poach some of their team.” He could hear Skye give a slightly amused snorty laugh behind him. “I might only come back with one, but it’ll be worth it.”

“Well, take your time, I’ll make sure Stark Industries is still standing when you get back,” Pepper said with a smile. “But you owe me dinner at Masa.”

“The most exclusive restaurant in New York? Pep, you drive a hard bargain, but I’ll do it. See if we can get a reservation for some time this year.”

“I think I can finagle something for this week. Friday?”

“It’s a date. See you when I get back.”

“Bye Tony.”

Pepper ended her connection and he turned to witness three women smiling at him. “What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some genius billionaire playboy or something?” Darcy asked, tilting her head, the smile still on her face.

“Reformed playboy, as you can obviously see,” he said with a warm, genuine grin on his face. He didn’t really care if he got crap over being in love. He was, and he loved Pepper and he didn’t care who saw.

“You know, I think that display of awww might have convinced me we’ll make a good team,” Skye said. “I’ll help work with you on this tech.”

“Excellent,” he said, his grin widening. “I think we need to go find your boss to make a few arrangements then, don’t we?”

“I think that would be a good idea, yeah. Or we can wait till pub time.”

“I don’t try and mix business and pleasure,” he said. “But I may make an exception in this case. Want to get a closer look?” He indicated the machine and at Sif’s nod, Skye moved over. This trip was going better than he could have imagined. Much, much better...

#mcu #sherlock #pepperony #fanfic #fanfiction #tony x pepper #tony stark #skye | daisy johnson #darcy lewis #sif #pepper potts #my au: just pieces on the board #multipart: a potential loophole to exploit #marvel cinematic universe

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vbsitservices · 3 years ago

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Can Your Password Stand Up to A Data Breach?

At this point, it’s simply a matter of time before some company somewhere asks you to change your password because something somewhere down the line got hacked. In fact, in June of 2016, Fortune Magazine said, “It’s almost fashionable to become the victim of a data breach these days, or at least you’d think so, given the who’s-who list of companies announcing them.” In other words, everyone from Fortune 500 companies and hospitals to small businesses and tech giants are experiencing the rippling impact of a data breach.

Does your password stand a chance?

As an individual rudely thrown into the middle of a data breach, the first thing you should do is change your login credentials as quickly as possible. The quicker you change your credentials, the less of a chance a group of hackers has to use your preexisting password to access your account. But this will really only work if your preexisting password has made it through the initial waves of cracking and hacking.

What is hacking software?

Cyber criminals and hackers have developed a variety of software with the sole purpose of cracking your passwords. This can be done through a Brute Force attack where hackers try tens of thousands of password combinations within minutes. If the credentials are encrypted or hashed, this process can be a little more difficult.

However, as we saw with Ashley Madison in 2015, how the data is encrypted or hashed will simply determine how much longer it will take to decrypt the data or match up the hashes with the correct algorithm. As Ars Technica reported, the Ashley Madison passwords were hashed with a rather sophisticated algorithm; nonetheless, this particular hashing involved a number of programming errors, allowing 11 million of the stolen credentials to be hacked in less than 10 days. If those errors were not present, it would have taken centuries to crack as many as they did.

How else can your password be hacked?

Cracking software is not the only way an account can be unlocked. This can go down in a variety of ways, and it doesn’t always involve a massive data breach.

Phishing: You might receive a malicious email. The email will appear to come from a credible source, and it could potentially ask you to login to your account or send your information over for an “account verification.” Once you do this, the hackers will have full access to your account.

Security Questions: Just like a password, your security questions can also be hacked. People tend to answer security questions in the same way – simply due to the nature of the question itself.

For example, “What is your favorite football team?” only has a handful of legitimate answers, and people naturally want to answer it accurately to ensure they can recall it at a later time. In other words, a person isn’t going to say that his or her favorite football team is Pepperoni Pizza.

Malware: If malware has wiggled its way onto your connected device, this could also result in a leaked password. Some malware can track your every movement, and keyloggers can record every letter you type. If they’re tracking and recording at the right time, they could match up the right website with the right credentials.

What does a good password look like?

When it comes to good ol’ fashioned hacking and cracking, it’s important to have a strong password. Like mentioned earlier, your password needs to be legit enough to make it through the initial waves of hacking and cracking – giving you the time you need to get to your account and change your password. Part of this will depend on how sophisticated the hashing and encryption standards are, but the other part of this will rely on the password itself.

Use phrases.

The longer your password is, the more difficult it will be to decipher. But, at the same time, this also means that it will be substantially more difficult for you to remember. To make this easier on you, use phrases. These are simpler to recall than a long string of random letters.

Don’t use common phrases.

Phrases are certainly better than standalone words, but that’s only if the phrase in question is unique and random. People are starting to use phrases as passwords more routinely; however, they’re also using the same phrases over and over again. And usually this consists of a phrase with the word “like” or “love” somewhere inside it. So instead of using “Ilikepeanutbutter,” use something more like “Mytummyenjoyspeanutbutter.”

Experiment with capitalizations.

Lifehacker asserts that there’s a huge difference in time when it comes to cracking a password with all lowercases versus cracking a password with all types of characters. For example, a password that does not use a word out of the dictionary, that has eight characters and all lowercases should take around 2.23 hours to hack with a basic computer. If you throw a capital letter or two in there, then that period of time should bump up to 2.21 years. Quite a bit of a difference. Now, if you did use a word out of the dictionary and you had a computer with some serious computing capabilities, this time would substantially decrease – however, a capital letter will still provide you with the solid buffer you need.

Throw in a character or number.

If a capital letter increases the strength of your password that much, consider what it does for your password if you add in a few numbers or a special character (like an exclamation point or an asterisk). However, just as it is with using common phrases, make sure you aren’t using these numbers and special characters in obvious ways. For example, just because you put “123” on the back of a word doesn’t mean this password is more secure. In fact, these combinations are attempted in hacking software automatically. But this also goes for letter replacements. For example, replacing an “E” with a “3” or an “a” with an “@”. These are obvious, and hackers will look for it. If you’re going to throw in a number or a special character, make sure it counts.

Is there another way to protect your account?

Passwords will only take you so far, especially if you’re subjected to sophisticated social engineering. These attacks rely on the human element to dupe you into dropping standard security procedures and releasing private information – like passwords. For this reason, you should consider implementing 2-factor authentication on any sites that offer it.

2-factor authentication requires two separate methods of authentication before you’re allowed to login to your account. This might consist of your password and a code given to you via a text message or email. This could even be your password plus a security question. Most major websites have adopted 2-factor authentication.

On top of 2-factor authentication, some websites (like Facebook) offer login approvals or login notifications. This means that if someone tries to login to your account from an unrecognized browser or device, you’ll be sent a notification (usually through an email). If this attempt was not made by you, then you will have the opportunity to change your password.

If you want to protect your data and online accounts, then 2-factor authentication and login notifications are a necessary step. They create an additional layer of security and provide a much-needed facelift to a system of verification that’s outdated and out of touch with modern society.

How can we help you?

If you’d like further assistance protecting and securing your online data, we can help. As an IT Provider to many local businesses, we help secure massive amounts of data every day, and we can do the same for your business. Give us a call today at 1-877-709-2656 or visit our website at www.vbsitservices.com to learn more!

For more information please contact:

Miguel Ribeiro, IT Consultant

B. 416-900-6852 | 1-877-709-2656

Instant message: https://www.vbsitservices.com

VBS IT Services

6021 Yonge St. Ste.420

Toronto, Ontario, M3M 3W2

Canada

#password #cybersecurity #vbsitservices

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