#Bypass Firewall

[astral-space-dragon]

Damn. 12 years of this account?

That's unfortunate

[mazkeez]

It’s hard to imagine my agent 4 as a smarty pants scholar who is trying to pay off student loans and is a cybersecurity genius if her overall character gimmick/archetype is that he’s supposed to be a toon. But then I realized that she’ll just be spongebob in driving school. That’s the bit.

Also:

[tangledredstringsoffate]

This was PEAK humour in the early 2000's. I used to cry laugh to most of this. ... I was ready to kill any friend who played The Hamster Dance on repeat, tho.

[blackmoreops]

SSH magics

SSH tunneling (also known as SSH port forwarding) is powerful technique that allows system administrators to create secure encrypted connections between servers, bypass firewalls, and access services securely across networks. Its also known as SSH magics! Whether you’re trying to securely access internal services, create SOCKS proxies, or establish reverse tunnels to overcome network…

[lr-link]

PCle x8 25G Single mode Dual-port Bypass Adapter (Intel XXV710 Based) 👉Support three modes: Normal Mode, Bypass Mode, Watchdog Mode👈 LRES8004PF-BP-LR(SR) Controller: Intel XXV710 Port: 2xSFP28 Data Rate Per Port: 25Gbps PCIe Bus: PCIe Gen3.0 x8 Key Features: · Supports single channel bypass · DPDK, UEFI, Jumbo Frame https://www.lrnic.com/products/cid-107.html

[joetastic2739]

Someone accessed my Gmail 2 days ago, compromising my linked accounts like Twitter and YouTube. Here's how it happened, why I fell for it, and what you can learn to avoid making the same mistake:

The scam I fell victim to was a cookie hijack. The hacker used malicious software to steal my browser cookies (stuff like autofill, auto sign in, etc), allowing them to sign in to my Gmail and other accounts, completely bypassing my 2FA and other security protocols.

A few days ago, I received a DM from @Rachael_Borrows, who claimed to be a manager at @Duolingo. The account seemed legitimate. It was verified, created in 2019, and had over 1k followers, consistent with other managers I’d seen at the time n I even did a Google search of this person and didnt find anything suspicious.

She claimed that @Duolingo wanted me to create a promo video, which got me excited and managed to get my guard down. After discussing I was asked to sign a contract and at app(.)fastsigndocu(.)com. If you see this link, ITS A SCAM! Do NOT download ANY files from this site.

Unfortunately, I downloaded a file from the website, and it downloaded without triggering any firewall or antivirus warnings. Thinking it was just a PDF, I opened it. The moment I did, my console and Google Chrome flashed. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. I immediately did an antivirus scan and these were some of the programs it found that were added to my PC without me knowing:

The thing about cookie hijacking is that it completely bypasses 2FA which should have been my strongest line of defense. I was immediately signed out of all my accounts and within a minute, they changed everything: passwords, 2FA, phone, recovery emails, backup codes, etc.

I tried all methods but hit dead ends trying to recover them. Thankfully, my Discord wasn’t connected, so I alerted everyone I knew there. I also had an alternate account, @JLCmapping, managed by a friend, which I used to immediately inform @/TeamYouTube about the situation

Meanwhile, the hackers turned my YouTube channel into a crypto channel and used my Twitter account to spam hundreds of messages, trying to use my image and reputation to scam more victims

Thankfully, YouTube responded quickly and terminated the channel. Within 48 hours, they locked the hacker out of my Gmail and restored my access. They also helped me recover my channel, which has been renamed to JoetasticOfficial since Joetastic_ was no longer available.

Since then, I’ve taken several steps to secure my accounts and prevent this from happening again. This has been a wake-up call to me, and now I am more cautious around people online. I hope sharing it helps others avoid falling victim to similar attacks. (End)

(side note) Around this time, people also started to impersonate me on TikTok and YouTube. With my accounts terminated, anyone searching for "Joetastic" would only find the imposter's profiles. I’m unsure whether they are connected or if it’s just an unfortunate coincidence, but it made the situation even more stressful.

[aingeal98]

Cass picking up TV and Internet slang and incorporating it into her vocabulary with zero irony: Wonderful, amazing, 10/10 no notes.

Babs spending so much time around Cass that she ends up accidentally using that same slang while in Oracle mode and never being able to live it down: Total global communications breakdown. She'd burn the entire Internet to the ground to make sure the footage of her whispering "bazinga" while using a drone to shoot out the tyres of a mob car following Black Canary never reaches human eyes or ears.

But no matter how much technology she destroys there's no going back. Helena has heard her mutter "gg you fuckin noobs" while bypassing goverment firewalls, and no amount of insisting that it's actually a different term with a different meaning among hackers is going to fool a teacher who deals with teenagers on a regular basis. Her reputation is in shambles. The Birds keep buying Cass free drinks as thanks and she has no idea why.

[moonlightcycle571]

Captain Marvel not understanding anything about technology yet somehow being a technopath

I think it should be established that Billy Batson knows nothing about technology. He was stuck in the time bubble for over 50 years, and even then (before during and after), he’s a street kid. Man’s still on radio and old vehicles.

Every time she leaned something slightly techie, he gets flabbergasted. Mispronounces the name of so many machines and has no idea what’s the differences between an IPod and an IPhone. He understands even less why Sam’s song is beefing with an apple???

Having said that, Captain Marvel can be terrifyingly proficient in tech at random times, and the reasoning behind it is so dumb that any tech-savie person in the vicinity are either banging their heads or foaming in jealousy.

Electrics use electricity. Cap is technically Living Lightning. And magical. All Cap needs to do is think about something for it to appear in the nearest screens.

Batman: the access to the security are heavily locked and would take to much time to enter from the outside

Marvel: I got it! *camera footage appear on the screen*

Batman: hn?

*or*

Oracle: I need to bypass multiple firewalls. The coding is so complex, but if you give me ten minutes-

Marvel: oh it’s cool *waves his hand*

Oracle: …

Oracle: did you crack the code by waving your hand…

Marvel: yeah I just swishes off the weird blocks

Oracle, inwardly: THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

Oracle, outwardly: *noticeably restrained* cool 🙂

*Or*

Marvel: Hey Vic, do you want to get milkshakes?

Cyborg: I can’t, the father box is acting up. I’ve been glitching all day.

Marvel: oh let me help

Cyborg: you can’t just-

Marvel: *slaps Victors shoulder* there!

Cyborg: … how???

Marvel: I asked nicely! 😁

Cyborg: I’m going to die now

Bonus:

Somewhere in a dark unused part of the watchtower, many capes gathered.

Barbara Gordon: Today we will welcome a new member to our support group. Introduce yourself, tell us why you’re here and will can start the meeting.

Roy Harper: Hi, I’m Arsenal, and today Captain Marvel broke my grenade launcher. He then felt bad and made me a pocket rocket launcher. Meaning it’s a rocket launcher but when I press a button, it turns into a small box for me to carry around. I asked him why make a rocket launcher and not a grenade launcher, and he asked me what’s the difference.

*echoes of ‘oooh’ and ‘welcome to the club’*

Tim Drake: I taught him on how to set a Facebook account and helped him set his profile. I go out to get an energy drink. I come back and he’s hacking conversations of the mafia, giving me info on the trafficking ring I’ve been tracking for a month.

*sympathising nods from everyone*

Jaime Reyes: Last Thursday, my scarab got scratched and was having trouble repairing itself. Marvel came in and put a bandaid on it. The worse part is… it actually worked.

*cue groans through out the room*

[aftertheleaving]

Not A Threat

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader

Genre: Light humor, fluff, slow-burn setup(kinda), soft enemies to lovers(again kinda), workplace antics

Warnings: swearing, caffeine abuse, reader is unbothered and slightly feral, Damian is suffering (but not really), no plot just vibes

Notes: for @ur-mums-house, who is my sleepy muse and deserves a fic where Damian gets emotionally steamrolled by a tech intern. Anyway I totallyyyy didn't find this while scrolling through all my drafts that I never posted (this is like from forevrrrrr ago when i told myself i'd start posting but never did). 🙃

1, 2, 3

You’re halfway through your fourth energy drink and at least eight hours into the worst debugging sprint of your life when you crack into a corrupted server cluster and find a file labeled:

"batcave_logs_alpha / GraySon_Phase02 / CodedAssets_v3"

Your first thought is:

Oh my god, they named a prototype ‘Grayson’? What is this, an anime?

Your second:

Cool. More dumb WayneTech documentation. Maybe I can finally go home.

So you click it.

And twenty seconds later, after bypassing a laughably weak encryption key (seriously, who still uses birthday codes?), you’re staring at a directory full of what are clearly mission logs. From vigilantes. Who operate out of a cave. With bats.

You lean back, sip your drink, and sigh.

“Well. That explains so much about this company.”

You don’t tell anyone—not because you’re scared, but because you’re underpaid, overworked, and Jenkins is still crashing. You simply do not have time for Batman’s extracurriculars.

Which is why, when you return from lunch the next day and find Damian Wayne himself waiting at your desk like a final boss, you groan out loud.

“You accessed a restricted directory,” he says flatly.

You drop into your seat. “Congrats. Want a cookie?”

He stares. “That information is classified.”

“So is the state of your backend infrastructure,” you reply, pulling up your terminal. “Your firewalls are like, held together with duct tape and prayer. You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally trigger a missile.”

He’s silent for a beat. You look at him, smirk creeping across your face.

“Oh wait,” you say, “I’m supposed to act shocked, right?”

You cup your hand around your mouth and whisper dramatically, “You know who.”

Damian visibly restrains the urge to walk into traffic.

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” you assure him, typing lazily. “I’m too busy fixing Jenkins and wondering if I can make rice in a coffee pot. I have bigger problems.”

“…What is Jenkins?” he mutters.

“A CI tool,” you say. “It breaks. Constantly. Like you, apparently.”

He mutters something in Arabic that you think is an insult, but you’re too caffeinated to care.

“Besides,” you say, grinning, “You’re kinda short for a terrifying vigilante.”

“I am five-foot-five.”

“Sure”

A few days later…

You see him again, lurking in R&D like a disgruntled gargoyle.

You walk right up to him. “I have an idea.”

He immediately sighs. “No.”

You grin and hand him a rolled-up blueprint. “It’s a modular shock baton with thermal sensing and EMP shielding. Built it on my break. While eating a sandwich.”

He unrolls it and—you see the exact second he realizes it’s actually… good. Really good.

“This is—” he starts, then stops. Glares at you. “You should not be this capable.”

“Aw,” you say, patting his shoulder, “is that your way of saying thank you?”

“I said no such thing.”

“You did in spirit.”

“…Why are you like this?”

You smile, eyes glinting. “You’re fun to mess with.”

I think I’m actually dying. I was working on a Tim fic, minding my business, and then I got a comment from ur-mums-house and genuinely tweaked. Like. Fully spiraled. So then I went rummaging through the massive (for some reason??) collection of fics I’ve written and never posted, searching for anything Damian-related for ur-mums-house—and now here we are. Okay. Gonna go back to working on my Tim fic now. Bye bye 👋 .

[anonymous-existences]

DCxDP Prompt 10 :

Death Defying Ship. Danny and Dick are childhood friends where the Fenton's would often bring Danny and Jazz to the circus to hang out with their old friends the Graysons, where Danny and Dick are very close and do dumb kid stuff but jazz is there to watch them so they won't get into too much trouble when the parents aren't looking.

In there Danny learns from the Graysons some basic Gymnastics and Dances that require two people and all that brings them all closer.

Dick and Danny lost touch after the tragic incident with the Graysons, Many years later the story progresses as usual. Danny moves to Gotham to pursue his pursuit in getting a Professional Engineering Recommendation to W.E. with a Bonus Dani that appears every so Often and Dan a normal Mechanic that's acting as his older brother.

Sam Manson happens to be once again forced to attend a gala but this Wayne Gala was Unique because of it's setting as a Masquerade Ball. Sam is thrilled as she can add spice to her gothic aesthetic clothing with a more gothic mask, Danny is being dragged along as because of BFF code, (if I get to suffer, you suffer too.) thus Danny is also wearing an almost as gothic clothing that matches Sam.

Dick and Danny meet there but ofcourse they don't recognize each other, a specific song plays and Dick ever so playful tries to dance a specific routine that only He and Danny knows as they both made it as kids with the help of Jazz. Dick is surprised that Danny is keeping up, Danny is ecstatic and pacing faster as both are in full rhythm and sync in movements.

They don't even realize it but they've become the center of attention as they danced right in the middle of the ballroom. The song comes to a halt and Danny and Dick are breathing heavily, both smiling in excitement until Sam grabs Danny in a headlock and drags him away, scolding him for ditching her for another man.

Dick tries to stop them but was immediately blocked by many who wanted to converse or get his attention as he loses sight of Danny in the crowd of people.

Danny and Dick only ever meet in a gala but something keeps pulling them away from each other, both unable to get each other's names, Dick is totally mesmerized by Danny just as much as Danny is too. Sam finally tells him at some point that he's Dick Grayson. Danny's memories of their past flooding in but Danny didn't want to tell Dick about that because what if dick doesn't remember? What if he asked Dick and he didn't remember him? So Danny kept quiet until he can finally give Dick his name but that moment never came.

Danny is forced to go back to Amity because of the GIW and their Plan to once again destroy the Ghost Zone and Declare War, Danny is captured by the GIW and Sam in desperation with Tucker finally found a way to bypass the GIW firewalls and Break through to connect to the JL.

In the process of saving the captures ghosts with the help of the Justice League in infiltrating and dismantling the Anti Ecto Laws for going against the Meta Protection Rights. Dick doesn't recognize Danny as Phantom, they save him and all that process through Frostbite's help.

Jazz immediately recognizes Dick even as Nightwing and calls him 'Robin' and Dick immediately recognizes her because she is the big sister he always had and wished he kept. Jazz doesn't blow his Identity as expected but she does tell him about Danny as Phantom and Dick as A Wayne once again is processing all of those information in the Manor, Jazz had reassured them that Danny would visit at some point once he is fully healed and Dick waits everyday, waiting for Danny to call or text him that he'll visit.

Dick realizes he's fallen deep in love with Danny with his desperation and also everytime they've met and interacted with each other even for brief moments in the galas they've attended. Danny become the sole reason he'll force himself to attend a gala as he wanted to see the man, his best friend and his first love.

Danny eventually visits Dick and from then you can tell the story goes that way, it's sweet fluff with angst and Dick and Danny gets their happy ending.

[nyancrimew]

can u just post the text on your tumblr. why inconvenience your followers like that?

???? because im a writer who writes articles for her own website and various outlets and not just a tumblr blog? i mean really why would book authors on here try and sell you their book instead of just posting the text on tumblr?

if clicking a link (or bypassing a firewall that falsely flags my site) is too inconvenient for you i dont think i can help you

[punkinspice]

(progress so far. At least its colored now hehe)

BUT!!!! HEADCANON TIME!!! (under the cut)

What if!!! GUN caught Rouge trying to steal something valuable of theirs, and as punishment, put a permanent, tracker, bracelet on her that also zaps her (like a shock collar) to make sure they keep an eye on her and make her do their dirty work for them.

Meanwhile Shadow is out hunting for his other inhibitor and GUN is trying to get to it before he does, so they send in Rouge to go after it first, all the while telling her how dangerous he is and to be so careful, and it feels like they're sending her out like fodder.

Just as Rouge finds the ring, she gets stopped by a very desperate and mad looking Shadow and tells her to give him the ring to her, that he doesn't want to hurt her, but he'll do what he has to. Meanwhile GUN is screaming in Rouge's ear to return back to them asap. So Rouge has to make a choice, and she chooses to give the ring to Shadow.

The two decide to team team up because they both have beef with GUN. Rouge to get this stupid tracker off of her and get her freedom back, and Shadow to get the answers that he needs and deserves.

Rouge asks Shadow how he intends to get these answers, other than with violence, and tells him that she can help him hack into whatever system he needs. So they infiltrate GUN, teleporting and hijacking their way into everything. Rouge finally gets the key for her tracker from Rockwell, after a little fight, and is free!

Shadow then teleports the both of them into the deepest parts of GUN and Rouge is hacking and bypassing firewalls and codes like its nothing, until they find what Shadow is looking for, and that's when Shadow starts to learn what he might be and where he's from.

They also learn that there are more answers at a secondary more secret GUN base, and Rouge at this point is way to invested in this guy, so she also chooses to go with him there and help him.

After sneaking into the second GUN base, they go deeeeeeep underground, and discover that they're keeping the remnants of the meteorite that had encased Shadow all those years ago. It's also being guarded by a viscous tank of a robot that tries to take them out but Rouge manages to get an override on him and shut him down.

That robot of course being Omega, a robot GUN made using some of the blueprints they took from Robotnik after shutting him down. Omega listens to Rouge and Shadow planning and discussing things, and realizes he also wants to join them.

Besides, Shadow seems to be apart of the same biomaterial of the thing he was programmed to guard so he would still be technically be following out orders. (he's also bored as heck and feels like wasted potential)

so they all 3 team up and maybe end up going to space and fighting aliens, or the aliens come to them WHO KNOWS WHAT COULD HAPPEN NEXT, BUT JUST THINK OF THE POSSIBILITIES

[happypopcornprincess]

Chapter 4 || The Great War

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - will they survive the great war?

Word Count - 4.7K

Warnings: Angst, blood, gore, mentions of death

a/n - so a short storytime about the delay in the updates, well, long short I was off with family for Holi and almost got caught writing smut :) sprained my hand, which is why I couldn't type for days but I pulled through as injuries can wait but not my will to complete Joaquin and y/n's story. also imp. note that the narratives will now skip between a lot of characters so please let me know if there is any confusion :) thank you for sticking around <3 hope you would like this chapter.

<< Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 5 >>

Scorching sun rays on your body, and the hot desert wind on your face, You squinted through the binoculars, but your focus was split. Kingpin’s lavish bungalow, his desert stronghold, was a fortress, and you weren’t just watching—you were breaching it.

You could have done a better job at it, if it wasn't for Joaquin, who'd decided to join you, armed with binoculars.

"You know," you said, your focus unbroken from your screen, "we could have just sent a drone. Less chance of getting sunburned."

"Drones get spotted," Joaquin replied, his voice flat. "Besides, someone has to make sure you don't pass out and roll down this hill."

"Oh, I'm touched," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“When I said ‘I want to help you Sam’, I meant fighting by his side, not babysitting you.” Joaquin muttered loud enough for you to listen.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” you snapped, your eyes still glued to the scene before you.

“Give me one good reason why I'm stuck with you here and not on the scene with the team?”

“You volunteered for this, very enthusiastically, might I add,” you mutter under your breath.

“I just want to say if this fails… I’ll personally haunt you in the afterlife.” Joaquin growls.

“And I just wanna say if you keep running your mouth I might have to punch you.” you retorted, your fingers flying across the tab. The bungalow’s security system was a labyrinth, but you were navigating it, line by line.

“And I just wanna say, if I had a gun, I’d have already put a bullet through my skull,” Kate interjected, her voice laced with dark humor that made you both whirl around.

She settled between the two of you, pulling out her own binoculars, though her gaze was drawn to your screen. "And before you ask, no, I didn’t crawl up here for the view. I’m here to make sure you two don’t fry a circuit—or each other."

"Oh," you muttered, your focus intensely on the code scrolling across your screen. "Almost got past the third firewall..."

“No, ‘oh kate i’m so glad you’re alive?’ or ‘i’m sorry for being a jerk, kate.’ or, ‘hey how about we go to the movies after this to forget how we almost kicked each other’s butts the other day.’”

“You can just say you want to watch a movie with me,” you muttered, your eyes still trained on the gates.

“Seriously, Y/N?” she whined, but the edge in her voice was gone. “I’m sorry. I was… riled up. Watching Frank and Daredevil crash our mission, and the fact that he wanted to kill Fisk… I took it out on you.”

Kate’s voice dropped, becoming softer, almost hesitant. “And I said some really hurtful things to you. I wish I could take them back. I shouldn’t have said that.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of her apology settling on you, but your hands never stopped typing. "I know," you replied, your voice tight. "It’s alright. I get it." You patted her arm awkwardly, a brief, almost clumsy gesture, before returning to your screen. "Almost there… bypassing the internal sensors… got it!"

Joaquin, however, didn’t miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. His gaze lingered on you as he watched you work. 

"What are you doing now?" He asked.

"Disabling the cameras, and internal sensors." You reply without looking up. "Once I do that, I can let the team know where the blind spots are, and they can go in… Got it!”

You smile, and speak into the comms, “Sam, defenses down. All data is with redwing you can proceed. Good luck.”

Kate tapped both your shoulders, “good luck.” and she went back.

Joaquin stood up, deploying his falcon suit, and you followed, tightening your utility belt and strapping your tab inside your vest.

You winced, “ah!” gripping your wound as it sent a jolt up your body. Joaquin’s hand raised to reach for you, but he retreated as you walked to him, his stance rigid. It was hard to read his eyes, now covered with his visor lenses.

“Don’t you dare drop me.” you state, locking your arms around his shoulders.

He let out a dry laugh, “ha, I wish I could.” saying so, he pulled you in by your waist, harshly, and took off into the sky.

The wind whipped at your face, stealing your breath. As on instinct, you clung to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You swore he held you closer, but maybe it was just the wind, or the way your mind was playing tricks on you. It was too easy, the way your body fit against his. 

It was like muscle memory, an echo of a time when you were friends, before the tangled mess of your arrangement. 

On you apartment’s fire escape, Joaquin sat on the stairs, holding out his hand, a teasing grin playing on his lips. “Come on.”

“I can’t!” you whined.

“You can’t be scared of heights when your best friend is the Falcon,” he laughed with a playful challenge.

“Y/N, I thought I was your best friend!” Peter’s voice echoed, and you looked up to see him hanging upside down just above you.

“Can you stop doing that?” you snapped, your stomach twisting with anxiety, a strange warmth spreading through you when you looked at Joaquin.

“Look, it’s only the fourth floor. It’s not that high! You know, I once flew next to an F-15 with Sam. You know how high that is?” Joaquin insisted.

“That does not make me feel better, Joaquin!” you scream.

“I’m here just in case you fall. I’ll web you up!” Peter offered, but his upside-down presence only amplified your anxiety.

“No.”

“Okay, that leaves us only one other way,” Shang-Chi spoke up from behind you, before literally hauling you up and pushing you out onto the fire escape. You screamed and thrashed a bit, but calmed down once you felt Joaquin’s hand hold you tight by your waist.

You breathed hard, but Joaquin let you wrap your hands around him, rubbing your back, his laugh vibrating through you.

“I got you.” he urged you to look at him and you did. His calm demeanor and his touch on your skin should have calmed you, but your heart raced faster. You shift your gaze to the New York skyline, the sun disappearing behind the tall buildings, the bustling crowds beneath you and the cold wind on your face.

Shang Chi sat next to you, placing his arms behind your body, and you calmed down completely.

“Incoming!” Kate laughed before rolling down from the railing above and lying down on your legs, laughing, all while Peter hung upside down.

You saw the new york sunset together, and sat there in silence until the sky turned blue. 

That’s when you hit Shang Chi’s arm.

“Ow!”

“That was for pushing me out.” you laugh.

 Kate gasped, hitting Shang Chi, “You pushed her out on the fire escape?”

“Can you both stop hitting me?” he protests.

“Okay, time out!” Joaquin leaned to make Kate stop hitting Shang Chi, and sneakily made a face, making you laugh.

“Can you move?” Joaquin’s voice vibrates through you, making you realise your legs were touching the ground.

You jerked away from him, as he disengaged his helmet, meeting your gaze with disappointment.

The comms came to life with Bucky’s voice, “we’re in! Y/n, you have 10 minutes tops, starting now!”

You crashed back to reality, all your focus shifting to your mission, “Roger that.” Saying so, you ran with Joaquin on your heels, the lingering warmth of his touch a ghost on your skin.

But as you moved, a dangerous, sudden realization slammed into your chest with the force of a physical blow.

You were falling for him.

And you were terrified.

It was the specific, visceral terror of falling for him. 

Joaquin, the man who had been your friend, your confidant, your… something else entirely. The man who had declared it was over, who had built his own walls, colder and taller than yours.

This was a dangerous game, where the stakes were your heart, and the opponent was someone who knew exactly how to dismantle your defenses.

As you entered the enemy territory, the realization sent a shiver down your spine. You pushed it down, shoved it into a locked box in the deepest part of your mind, where it wouldn't interfere with the mission. 

But the fear lingered, a cold, hard knot in your stomach, a constant reminder of the dangerous path you were now on.

—/—/—

The moment you stepped through the reinforced door, the world shifted, a stark and unsettling contrast to the harsh desert landscape you'd just left. The bungalow’s interior was a crafted miracle, a bizarre blend of mid-century modern and Renaissance, as if a set designer had suffered a stylish, schizophrenic break.

It wasn't just a house; it was a stage. 

The walls painted a blinding, almost clinical white, stretched into high, vaulted ceilings, creating an echoing space. The walls were a gallery, a bizarre collection of paintings that seemed to have been plucked from different eras and styles. The air itself felt different, sterile, a faint tone of rose underlying in it. 

Every surface, every object, was eerily pristine, untouched by dust. It was as if the entire space was a museum exhibit, where nothing was allowed to be out of place. 

The halls of the mansion were empty, no soldiers in sight. You found a staircase leading upstairs, but your focus was to find a hidden wall or a door that leads downstairs; that’s where all the fun was.

Joaquin whispered, “y/n, look.” you turn towards the room he was pointing in, and see it; a huge 9-feet oil painting of Wilson Fisk and Vanessa Fisk, standing ominously, their gaze pouring into you both like a warning of not coming any closer.

Walking closer, you both quickly set to analyze the edges for some mechanism, or a hint towards an opening, moving your fingers around the edges, and suddenly a sharp click broke the silence.

Joaquin and you looked at each other, and he gave you a thumbs up. The painting started to move, slowly opening on the outside to reveal an elevator. You both rush in, and find only two buttons on it; G and -1. Clicking on the -1 button, the doors closed, and the elevator roared to life.

When the doors opened, you found yourself looking at a lavish living room; the walls painted maroon, the furniture all black, and a small kitchen counter on a corner filled with canned food… right next to a computer system with two screens stacked on top of each other.

Gotcha

“It’s a safe house within a safe house.” Joaquin muttered, as you made a run for the computers.

“Y/n!” the comms roared back to life, Peter's voice a shout in the midst of gunfire, “did you find it?”

“Yes!” you scream, your fingers itching to get to work.

“Finish up as soon as you can!” Kate screamed next, grunting, probably shooting arrows, “these soldiers are playing real dirty.”

“Got it.” your fingers fly on the keyboard as you fish out the tab from within your vest, shoving it at joaquin, “find me a passage to the dark web.”

“What?” he looks at you, dumbfounded.

“You heard me.” you command, without removing your eyes from the desktop.

Joaquin got to work, and you bypass the security and passcodes with algorithms to access the files. Writing a code for accessing all files at once, you find both screens filled with every single file from the computer.

And you froze.

Whatever you were expecting, this wasn't it.

“Ay dios mío” Joaquin muttered.

The screens were filled with videos of every single person on your team.

“Goddamn, He'd steal the pennies off a dead man's eyes” you exclaimed, your Texan drawl slipping through.

Bucky and Sam on the Flag Smashers mission, Frank Castle murdering a room filled with mercenaries, Kate with Clint on the streets of new york, but the most shocking one was of Peter changing into his spidey suit in an alleyway, and the Daredevil on a rooftop, pulling off his mask to reveal his identity.

“Mathew Murdock? The lawyer from Hell’s kitchen!” Joaquin’s voice was filled with disbelief, “but he’s blind!”

You shake your head, trying not to get distracted by the sudden revelations, and you type in another code to reveal only the statistical and recorded data over the years; logs of purchases, black money turning white, reports of how many corrupt officials were there in the system, and the most important, proof of all the crimes, and murders he had committed in the past years. You put them all in one, single, mega file, and readied to upload it on the dark web, “Joaquin, how long?”

“30 seconds.” he answers, his hands flying across the tab.

“Looks like you’re winning, y/l/n.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you turned around, whipping out your gun at the man standing behind you. Joaquin dropped the tablet, kneeling next to you with two Glocks in his hands.

Benjamin Pointdexter, instead of rotting in jail, was standing right infront of you, smirking, his hands twirling two razor sharp knives, “I know you don’t go by that name anymore, it’s just y/n now, right?”

Your mind raced to stall for time, you knew you stood no chance in front of a psychotic individual who could make impossible shots with his knives, earning him the nickname of Bullseye.

“Your folks back in Texas would be sad about you not taking your last name.” he laughed, “traditions and all, you know.”

“How did you find us?” Joaquin grumbled.

“You found me, actually. You really thought Mr. Fisk would leave this room unguarded?” he started to walk towards you, his fingers spinning the knives faster than ever, “any last wishes?”

Joaquin looks at you, and speaks just a single word, “10 seconds.” before opening fire at Dexter.

—/—/—

Those 10 seconds were the longest 10 seconds of your life. 

You leapt towards the tab, pressing upload on all the files to the dark web. Opening the comms, you screamed, “Backup, lower ground… fisk’s portrait!”

You whipped around, and your blood ran cold. A knife was hurtling towards Joaquin's neck. He reacted by twisting away, a blade flashing from his own jacket, plunging into Dexter's thigh. Dexter roared, an agonizing sound leaving his throat, kicking Joaquin away as he grabbed razor-sharp shards from his suit.

"NO!" a sound of pure terror ripped from your throat watching him about to throw them at Joaquin. You lunged, slamming into Dexter, sending you both crashing to the floor. You pound your fists against him, a frenzy of precise but desperate blows, but he just laughed, a chilling, maniacal sound before catching your fist mid-swing, twisting your wrist with brutal force.

A scream tore from your lips, the pain white-hot, unbearable. But you were beyond pain, fueled by rage. You punched him again, ignoring the agony. 

You saw Dexter's smile twist into something truly sinister. Before you could react, before you could even brace yourself, he stabbed you, the knives sinking into the same wound, the same place you'd been shot before.

He kicked you away, the force of it sending you sprawling. He pulled more knives, ready to inflict more damage. But Joaquin was on him with a whirlwind of furious strikes with his knife, only to have Dexter’s own blade slash across his neck. 

A crimson spray burst out of his neck, a horrifying sight.

It was as if time had completely stopped.

Joaquin. Your Joaquin. The one whose laughter echoed in your ears, a constant, comforting sound. The one who had held you steady when you felt utterly adrift. The one you’d treated with a reckless, careless abandon, like a moth drawn to a dangerous flame, even though he deserved nothing but love.

And now, he was hunched over, clutching his neck, his fingers stained crimson. 

The sight was a brutal, visceral punch to your gut, a stark, horrifying image that burned itself into your mind. His comforting embrace after training, his laughter on the fire escape, his glances across the room searching for you at any moment, the night you two first met. Every laugh you’d shared, every moment you spent together, it all seemed to flash before your eyes in that horrifying moment.

The guilt, a heavy, suffocating weight, pressed down on you, threatening to crush you. How could you have been so careless with the man that you…

With the man that you loved.

The image ignited a fire in you, a desperate attempt of adrenaline pumping inside you,and you were moving like a broken thing driven by pure instinct. 

You stumbled at Dexter, your body screaming in protest, but you couldn't stop.

Then Dexter was throwing knives, every blade he had, a lethal rain aimed at you.

You coughed as they pierced through your body, a gurgling sound, blood bubbling up in your throat. Your vision swam, the pain a relentless, crushing wave. Your body was betraying you, cold and numb, but you fought, crawling towards the computer, a desperate last attempt to see if you were successful.

But Dexter was there, a dark shadow, his knives slashing, destroying the system. Sparks flew, screens flickered and died. All that work, all that pain, for nothing.

He loomed over you, a dagger in his hand, his eyes cold and cruel. "Well, this is a shame," he hissed, his voice a low, mocking growl. "I would have loved to have more fun with you."

His twisted smile was the last clear image you saw, before the world dissolved into a blurry darkness.

—/—/—

Gunshots.

A heavy thud of weight landed right next to you.

Shuffling of bodies, and somebody shouted your name from a far away distance.

"Dammit! Peter, get the Quinjet!" Bucky's shout echoed through.

Your name was called out again.

Your body felt lightweight, as if you were floating in air.

And then it was bright all of a sudden.

Your vision returned just to have a look at the crystal blue afternoon sky, the whirl of quinjet’s engine in the distance.

A sob went through your ears, a voice so familiar, "Stay with me y/n, baby, please."

Joaquin.

He was alright.

His voice was the last thing you heard before being catapulted into darkness.

—/—/—

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.!" Bucky roared, his voice cracking, his eyes glued to Y/N's still form on the Quinjet’s platform.

The minute he had entered Kingpin’s den his eyes had landed right on her. She was so pale, her skin like cold, lifeless marble. It sent Bucky to empty his barrel into Dexter who lay dead right next to y/n. The pool of blood beneath her was a sickening crimson stain, enough to send a wave of nausea crashing over him. He'd wanted to snatch her up, hold her close, but Sam's hand on his arm held him back, a silent, firm restraint.

Shang-Chi's rings glowed at that moment, and like a shimmering golden shield cradling her body, the rings lifted her gently off the ground. He was carrying her, floating, trying to minimize any further damage as they rushed her into the Quinjet.

"Scan complete. Multiple organ failure, massive blood loss, ruptured lungs, heart rate decreasing rapidly," F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's flat, emotionless voice filled the cramped space, each word a brutal blow.

"Any damage to the heart?" his voice was tight, strained.

"No critical damage detected."

"Okay... uh... okay..." Bucky's stomach churned. He couldn't look at the knives sticking out of her, couldn't bear the sight of her broken body. He turned away, but it didn't help.

Peter and Frank were with Joaquin, trying to stop the flow of blood from his neck. The cut wasn't deep, just above his collarbone, but his vest was soaked, a dark, horrifying stain. He'd passed out as they boarded the jet, his delirious cries for Y/N echoing in the small space, a desperate, broken sound that tore at Bucky's heart.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y... get the med bay ready," Bucky commanded, his voice rough.

"Shang-Chi—" Bucky started, but Shang-Chi cut him off, his face grim.

"The rings are creating a field to keep her blood from getting out. They will also keep her heart beating, just in case..." He shared a look with Bucky, a look that spoke of unspoken fears, of the very real possibility of losing her. A look Bucky hated.

Kate and Peter were at the controls, their faces tight, Kate occasionally getting a glance back at y/n, flying them back to the compound. Daredevil, mask off, sat huddled in a corner, his gaze fixed on the floor. Bucky was seconds away from snapping, from unleashing his pent-up rage, when he saw the object clutched in Daredevil's hand: a silver cross.

He was praying, silently. He was a man desperately hoping for a miracle.

Bucky's own throat tightened. He remembered a secret, a truth he'd only shared with Sam: Y/N reminded him of a person so close to him back then, it physically hurt him to even think about her; his sister, Beatrice. 

Hauntingly familiar, just like her. The same mischievous grin before she did something mischievous, the same laughter that could fill any room with joy. 

He closed his eyes, a silent prayer escaping his lips, a desperate plea to whatever power might be listening…

Please, save her.

-/-/-

Joaquin's eyes fluttered open to the sterile white of the med bay ceiling, the smell of spirit overwhelming his senses.

He was alive. His forehead ached like he could feel the blood flow in his head, and a sharp sting from the gash on his neck burned as he opened his mouth, but he was alive. 

His first thought, a desperate, clawing panic, was for Y/N.

"Y/N?" His voice was a raw whisper, barely audible. "Is she…"

Shang Chi helped him sit up on the hospital bed, and he was met with Peter and Kate’s grim faces, etched with a silence that sent a chill through him. They avoided his gaze, their bodies stiff, their silence heavy.

"Sam got Kingpin," Peter said, his voice flat, his shoulders slumped. "He's on his way to New York. Going to trial for everything you and Y/N exposed."

Joaquin barely registered the words. A terrifying feeling invaded his heart as it beat faster; why was Peter avoiding his question? His eyes were fixed on them, searching for the truth they were so clearly trying to hide. "And Y/N?" he repeated, his voice strained.

“Joaquin, how about you rest up a bit…” Kate says calmly as she approaches his side, but Joaquin shakes his head, repeating his question.

"She's… she's in surgery," Kate said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's… we can’t tell if she-" she choked on her words, falling on the chair next to his bed.

The words hung in the air. A wave of nausea washed over him, a cold, sickening dread.

Shang-Chi placed a hand on his shoulder, sighing, a gesture that was meant to be comforting, but felt like a lead weight. "She's strong, Joaquin. She'll pull through.”

Joaquin saw the flicker in Shang-Chi's eyes, the carefully neutral expression that masked the unspoken fear. He knew they were holding back about her, trying to shield him from the truth. 

A small part of him still wished this was all a dream. A bad one, but still. Any minute now, he would wake up, right next to her sleeping form, and he’ll hold her, hug her, tell her she’s gonna be okay.

Then he heard Kate and Peter's hushed conversation next to him, the words cutting through the sterile silence of the room. "...we need to contact him."

“But, Kate…”

“Connor is her emergency contact peter, this could be the last time they-”

"Connor?" Joaquin's voice was sharp, a sudden jolt of confusion. "Who's Connor?"

The others exchanged a look, filled with confusion.

"You don’t know about Connor?" Peter said, his voice barely a whisper, “he’s her brother.”

Joaquin's breath hitched. Her brother. He knew she had a brother, but he had never known his name, never had any real details. Why did she never tell him before? Why was her brother the emergency contact? What about her parents?

His heart dropped when he recalled her behaviour. Overtly self dependent, her episode at the apartment, her smile disappearing at any mention of family, the phone call the day before the mission. His mind raced as he joined the dots in his head. Could it be…

"I need to see her," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

"Joaquin, you need to stay here," Shang-Chi said, his voice low but stern, "You need to get yourself together."

"Get myself together?" Joaquin's voice rose with his anger, a raw, broken sound, "She's dying! And you want me to get myself together?"

He tried to get out of the bed to stand, but his legs were weak, his body trembling. He stumbled, only to be caught by Shang Chi.

"Joaquin!" Shang-Chi's voice was sharp, a rare scolding tone. "You're not going anywhere. You're lost too much blood, you need rest. You will only make things worse."

Joquin breathed hard, clouded by the single thought of her. y/n smiling down at him from the fire escape, how she fitted right into his arms, her heartfelt laughter ringing in his ears, how her existence made him brighter. 

Joaquin sank back onto the bed, his body shaking, his eyes filled with a desperate, agonizing helplessness. He closed his eyes, hoping to see her image sitting next to him bathed in sunlight… alive.

But instead, he saw her face in the Kingpin's den, frozen, blank, seconds before Dexter's knives plunged into her. A replay of his worst nightmare. He remembered his desperate attempt to reach her before Dexter could do the unthinkable. 

The way her eyes had flickered, then gone blank.

The weight of suffocating darkness that threatened to consume him entirely loomed over him. He was alone, and the only light he ever cared about, was fading away.

To Be Continued...

<< Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 5 >>

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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[pascalissmoked]

Hello, I am wondering if u take request for a Tony Stark x female reader, who is also best friend of Tony Stark before he came Iron Man but she has been by his side through everything as well. But it’s a fluff one shot as at the end where they both reveal their feelings for each other which they had from the moment they met and they have their first kiss between them as well.

Ofcoursee, here it is! Hope you like it :)

Virtual Insanity

Summary: In which the infamous line "make love not war" isn't well-respected by this pair of friends. When cyberbullying at Stark industries level develops into a game between these two collegues and friends, something more begins to unravel between the two.

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: none except Tony's unsufferable ego (all jokes)

A/N: This is a short oneshot. Might turn into more. I'm also still working on the "Soft in the right hands" series for bucky so stay tuned!

You’d known Tony Stark long enough to remember when he didn’t wear the suit — physically or emotionally.

Back then, he was all sharp smiles and sharper intellect, more interested in building arc reactors with cocktail napkin schematics than charming investors. Reckless with nearly everything except the way he treated you. Somehow, against all odds, you’d slipped past the velvet rope that guarded the real him — the sleepless inventor who showed up on your fire escape at 3AM with a bottle of Scotch and a theory about thermal diffusion that couldn’t wait till morning.

You were best friends before Afghanistan. Before Iron Man. Before Stark Tower had its own AI department and a floor reserved just for “Tony’s regrets, part I through XXV.”

And none of that stopped him from hacking your firewall during lunch.

You were approximately three minutes into a well-deserved lunch break — grilled cheese in hand, Spotify playlist on shuffle, and the sanctity of a lab entirely free of explosions — when your firewall went up in flames.

Digitally speaking.

The code on your main monitor began to twitch. Literally twitch. Then twist. And then it smiled at you. A little pixelated smiley face blinked up from the line of code you’d just written, followed by a dancing ASCII cat wearing sunglasses.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, setting your sandwich down like it had betrayed you.

You knew that coding style.

You knew exactly who was responsible.

With the patience of a saint and the energy of someone who was one click away from snapping, you launched into the system’s backend, pulling apart the layers of the digital graffiti with expert ease, unraveling each line of smug Stark-ware. And sure enough, right at the root folder, embedded in a hidden command string, was a line of text:

"Nice firewall, sweetheart. 7/10. Would hack again. - T.S."

Your eye twitched. Your soul twitched.

He didn’t just breach your system. He decorated it. That wasn’t a hack — it was a housewarming party in enemy territory.

The man had billions of dollars, a global tech empire, multiple Iron Man suits, and — apparently — nothing better to do than hack into your secure files during his downtime like a caffeinated raccoon with a superiority complex.

You were going to kill him. Slowly. Or worse — give him a lecture so long and boring it could be classified as psychological warfare.

And thus, the war began.

With your jaw clenched and your heart pounding in that very specific, very annoying way it only ever did around Tony, you stormed out of your lab and stomped down the hallway of Stark Tower.

You bypassed three interns and a mildly offended elevator AI before slamming open his door like righteous judgment. Finally, you flung open the doors to his R&D suite without knocking.

Tony didn’t flinch.

Sleeves rolled up, arc reactor glowing, fingers dancing across a holographic interface. He looked up. Grinned.

“Hey, sunshine,” Tony said lazily from behind a table cluttered with open panels, a half-dismantled drone, and at least three coffee cups. “I was just thinking about you."

“You’re a menace.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He finally looked up, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “But usually by people who didn’t bother updating their encryption protocols.”

You crossed your arms. “You hacked into my system during lunch, Stark. That’s below the belt. I was eating grilled cheese.”

“Maybe next time add some brie and fig jam. Class it up a little.” He grinned. “You’re welcome, by the way. I just gave you a free security audit.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Did your ego eat your moral compass for breakfast?”

He stood, sauntering over like confidence incarnate in a Henley and jeans, and leaned against the edge of the workbench — arms crossed, smirk fully loaded.

“I’d argue my ego is my moral compass. And it always points due north to: mess with you.”

“You hacked my system,” you repeated.

He tilted his head. “If I can break in, so can Hydra. I’m doing you a favor.”

You crossed your arms. “This is the third time this month you've done something like this. Last week, you turned my digital assistant into a sassy version of yourself. I had to argue with my microwave for twenty minutes before it would heat my soup.”

He beamed. “He’s got a personality now! Named him Toasty.”

“I’m going to rewrite your DNA.”

“Only if we cuddle after.”

You were going to scream. Or kiss him. It was a very fine line these days.

“I’m going to kill you,” you said conversationally.

He grinned wider. “You’re going to miss me.”

So instead, you narrowed your eyes and said, “I hope you like Shakespeare just as much as JARVIS does.”

He blinked. “What?”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, already typing."Your little AI pet seems to have brushed up on his Shakespeare, because he’s about to speak exclusively in iambic pentameter for the next twenty-four hours."

“Wait. No—”

“And make all puns food-themed.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “You’re a monster.”

You shrugged, already walking toward the door. “Some people bake sourdough for fun. I emotionally sabotage billionaire AIs.”

Tony groaned. “JARVIS

, don’t you dare—”

“Verily, sir,” JARVIS chimed in serenely from the overhead speaker, “I find thy attitude rather cheesy, like brie upon a croissant most greasy.”

Tony’s head hit the desk.

You smirked. “Toasty says hi.”

It went on like that for weeks.

Tony retaliated by installing a movement sensor in your lab. Every time you entered, SexyBack blared at full volume. FRIDAY wouldn’t let you disable it. She said it was “legally classified as a morale booster.”.

It was a war.

You replaced his AI’s voice with Gilbert Gottfried reading Twilight.

Tony responded by having your smartwatch shout hourly affirmations about his hair.

You hacked his suit’s startup sequence. Now it greeted him with:

“Iron Man: The Human Hot Pocket. Online.”

It didn’t stop there.

He replaced your screensaver with a live feed of himself winking, finger guns included.

You programmed his coffee maker to scream “INCOMING!” every time it dispensed espresso.

Naturally, collateral damage was inevitable.

Bruce’s tablet was cursed to play Baby Shark whenever opened. He developed a twitch.

Sam’s Falcon gear announced all takeoffs with: “I’m a little teapot, short and stout.”

Steve’s toaster quoted Pride and Prejudice in Cher’s voice.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” it belted one morning, “that a single man in possession of breakfast must be in want of jam.”

He punched a wall. You both got fined.

Even Clint, ever the stealthy one, wasn’t spared. Every time he drew an arrow, it whispered “pew pew” in Tony’s voice.

The tower teetered on the brink of chaos.

Pepper threatened to move to Dubai.

It was late.

The Tower was asleep, mostly. Except for Tony, who you found in the R&D lounge, hoodie on, arc reactor glowing soft under worn fabric. He looked… still. A rare moment for a man who moved like his thoughts could outrun time.

“You gonna yell at me for the coffee pot thing?” he asked, not looking up.

“I should,” you said, easing into the seat beside him. “FRIDAY tried to launch a counterstrike when I made a cappuccino.”

“She’s passionate.”

Silence fell. He just stared at you like he was debating something he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head.

You blinked. “What?”

Tony opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, “Do you want me to stop?”

You frowned. “Stop what?”

“The pranks. The hacking. I mean, I know it’s probably childish and annoying and… I don’t know. Maybe I just like having a reason to see you all worked up, to just see you more.”

You sat back, heart thudding.

“That,” you said slowly, “is the least emotionally articulate confession I’ve ever heard.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. I build flying suits, not feelings.”

You stood and walked over, stopping inches from him. His breath hitched, and yours did too.

“For the record,” you said, “I love your flying suits. But I also kind of love… this.”

He blinked. “The chaos?”

“The banter. The sabotage. The way your face lights up when you think you’ve outsmarted me, even though I’m always two steps ahead.”

“Debatable,” he muttered.

You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“And I love the way you look at me like I’m the only firewall you’ve never wanted to break.”

He stilled.

Then: “I’ve been in love with you since the day you fried that Russian botnet and called it ‘a poorly coded insult to my intelligence.’”

You smiled.

And then, you kissed him.

It was messy and hot and gloriously overdue. His hands cupped your face like he’d been dying to do it for years, and your fingers curled into his shirt like gravity had given up and he was your anchor now.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he whispered, “I should have hacked you sooner.”

You smacked his shoulder. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

He did.

And that night, neither of you changed each other’s passwords.

You called a truce.

Sort of.

Now your prank war has a rulebook and a scoreboard. Nat is the referee. Bruce runs support (begrudgingly). Steve is still in therapy.

JARVIS still speaks in sonnets during thunderstorms. Toasty hosts a podcast. FRIDAY hosts a revenge fund.

A year later, Tony proposed via custom hologram code embedded in your firewall — romantic, glitchy, and absolutely extra.

You said yes.

And now, sometimes, late at night, you’ll find yourselves coding side-by-side, teasing each other like always — except now, there’s no more pretending.

Just love. Loud, messy, sarcastic love. With bad lighting, too much coffee, and more happiness than either of you thought you’d ever deserve.

And every morning, when you walk into the lab, “SexyBack” still plays.

You don’t stop it anymore.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to leave a comment behind <3

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

When it’s only 7am at Darkness Academy and Xivu is yelling across the classroom, Calus is drinking “””””””””water””””””””” from his golden Stanley, Rhulk just reminded the Witness that it forgot to collect the homework, Savathûn bypassed the school firewall to play TravelerMath games on her Chromebook, Nezarec just walked in blaring shitty music on a JBL speaker in his bag, Eramis skipped class so she wouldn’t have to present, and Oryx’s big ass head is blocking the board 💔

[lifebloa]

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