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peachhcs · 8 days ago

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If u have anything samy and will in ur drafts i needddd

the summer flu | the wonder years

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy and will are quarantined to the basement for two weeks when everyone but them gets sick with the flu. what could go wrong when two fourteen year olds have to spend two long weeks with one another.

words: 3.9k

omg i've also had this one in the drafts for like weeks and here it finally is finished! this feels very coming of age to me where samy and will go in hating one another and come out not hating one another as much -- the first actual fic in so long wow!

au masterlist

it started with jack. he complained of a stomach ache and raging headache for two days before waking up the next night throwing up his guts and a dangerously high fever. from there, it was all a domino effect and the two youngest happened to be the last ones standing and in a last ditch effort to keep them healthy, they were quarantined to the basement for two weeks.

"two weeks?" they exclaimed at the same time when ellen revealed the news. she was on the verge of catching whatever was going around the house so there was a decent 10 feet between them and her.

"yes, two weeks. you two are the only healthy ones left. meals will be delivered at the top of the stairs. everything else that you would need is down there and if you have to go outside, you need to enter through the doors downstairs," the instructions were clear, but neither of them looked too thrilled about spending two weeks together by themselves.

"mom, come on. you really think putting me with will alone for two weeks is a good idea?" samy tried to get out of it. she argued that she could spend time at a friend's house or something. ellen wasn't for it though.

"samantha, you argued with me last week about wanting to be treated as your age and this is me treating you as your age. you two are fourteen and i trust you know how to make the right decisions. this is for the health of everyone in this house," the older woman stood firm on her word. the girl groaned in annoyance just as quinn hacked up whatever from the living room. the two whipped their heads around, watching as the oldest hughes barely looked alive on that couch.

"anything is better than getting whatever we have right now," quinn said weakly as he listened to the conversation.

"ugh, fine. whatever," samy stormed away to get things from her room for the two weeks.

the lake house basement was completely finished with a spare bedroom, a bathroom, and a full living room so samy and will were basically set. they stood at the bottom of the stairs together staring at what they had to work with for the next two weeks.

"you can take the bed. i don't mind the couch," will mumbled.

"good, i wasn't taking the couch even if you asked," the brunette grumbled and walked straight into her new bedroom. will rolled his eyes and jumped onto the couch to watch tv. the perks of being alone in the basement? none of the parents were there to tell them to stop watching tv or playing video games nonstop and will could do whatever he pleased.

if samy was going to be stuck with will for two weeks, she might as well make the best of it. there was talk of a bonfire happening a few houses down later and considering they had a door right at their fingertips, samy was definitely going to take advantage of it. they'd grown out of their tattletale phase and she knew will liked sneaking out as much as she did.

"there's a bonfire happening down the street tonight. you in?" samy leaned over the top of the couch where will met her glance.

"nah, i'd rather not get in trouble," the blonde mumbled.

"and how would we get in trouble when we have a door right there?" samy pointed to the sliding glass doors. will glanced at them and looked back at her.

"you know there's a camera right outside of that door that your parents get notifications for, right?" the blonde looked at her like she was dumb.

"there's windows," samy just really wanted to sneak out and she was trying to convince will to do it too so if they got busted, she wouldn't be the only one getting in trouble.

"if you're trying to sneak out, i don't care. why would i snitch?"

"will, we're locked in this basement for two weeks allowed to do whatever we want because our parents will be too busy trying not to die upstairs. you know what that means? we can get away with anything for two weeks," and maybe samy just didn't want to have to walk down the street in the dark by herself so that was another reason she was trying to convince him.

"if we get caught, you're taking the blame since it was your idea," he gave in. the girl quickly grinned.

"i knew i could convince you. it starts at 10," she ran back into the room to pick out an outfit.

later that night, samy wiggled the screen from the window frame. will stood nervously behind her like one of their parents was going to come down to bust them, but everyone upstairs had been asleep since 9pm. the brunette hid the screen in the closet once she got it free.

"give me a boost," she urged. will sighed, but cupped his hands so she could step into them and he could lift her up. she used her hands to push herself onto the high window sill and then wiggled through the rest of the way.

once she was through, will hoisted himself up to the little platform. samy helped him crawl through while trying not to make too much noise and accidentally wake their parents. they shut the window once they were both outside and then waited a good 30 seconds before celebrating that they made it.

"i told you. they could sleep through a tornado," the brunette whispered as she pulled her phone out for the address of the party.

will couldn't help but eye the skimpy tank top and almost too short denim shorts the younger hughes chose to wear. he knew it was summer and this was a party they were going to, but he couldn't help but wonder who she was trying to impress or catch the eye of. he just threw on a better shirt since the once he had on had a stain on it from something.

the two teenagers started down the sidewalk once samy got the correct address. will began wondering what kind of people would be there. probably ones he's met before, but knowing that the people in this neighborhood were rich, the kids there were definitely rich too and hanging out with rich kids always rubbed will the wrong way because of how stuck up they all were. it was half of the reason why he didn't want to go in the first place because he hated having fake conversations with people who definitely wouldn't remember his name the next time he saw them around.

the closer they got, the louder the music became from the backyard. samy's smile grew as she took the lead into the back gate. ever since quinn, jack, and grace started going out a few years ago, the girl dreamt of the day she could do it too and talk to people that weren't her family for once.

samy and will were greeted with loud music and people scattered in the backyard. their eyes darted around, overwhelmed with the amount of guests and what they should do, but as if she was a natural, samy dove in. she stopped by the drink table that was mostly a mix of sodas besides the large bowl of god knows what. she went for whatever the drink of the night was, but will was quick to step in before she even poured any in a cup.

"i wouldn't drink that if i were you," he warned. she shot him a glare.

"what are you? the police? my mom?" samy yanked her hand from his grip.

"no, but i do know the shit that's put in there is never good. you don't know what's in it. wouldn't wanna explain to your mom why you're suddenly throwing up?" the two stared at one another for a moment. will stood firmly on his word while the soccer player narrowed her eyes at him before grabbing a sprite instead.

will followed her further into the crowd where someone that he did recognize appeared. samy eagerly waved at the two girls and the guy talking in one of the corners.

"you made it!" her name was beth.

"i told you, i would. this is my friend, will," samy introduced the blonde to the other girl and guy he didn't know. they all politely nodded to one another.

"will, i've seen your clips online. you've been playing some good hockey this year," beth grinned at the blonde. he quickly flushed at the praise.

"thanks. it was good season."

"you gonna do the development camp in plymouth in a few years? my brother did it. he said he loved it. great people and experiences," beth continued.

"yeah, i think so. that's the plan at least," will's gaze found samy. she had disregarded the conversation he was having with beth and started talking to the guy in the circle that will didn't really know. maybe that was who she was trying to impress.

he looked a year or two older than them and he was drinking whatever was in that bowl on the table. the way he was looking at samy left a strange and unfamiliar feeling in will's stomach. he kept putting his hands on her waist and samy seemed oblivious to it based on the way she just smiled up at him and laughed at whatever came out of his mouth.

"so what else has been new with you?" beth snapped the hockey player from his stare. she was looking at him already and he flushed again.

"not a lot. just enjoying summer," will rocked on his heels.

"yeah, same. i'm just glad i don't have to think about school for a few months. my parents and i are going to italy in a few weeks," there it was. that rich kid "i'm going abroad and i do it every summer." beth was nice and she definitely wasn't as stuck up as some of these other kids, but the money she had showed a lot.

"that's cool. hope it's fun," the boy wished he could walk away from the conversation, but it didn't feel right to him to just leave samy with this guy.

"you must travel a lot for hockey," beth continued.

"i mean yeah kind of," yeah, will travelled and he was grateful for it and sure, he knew his parents also had money, but he knew better than to rub it in other people's faces or act a certain way just because of it.

he eyed samy again. those two were getting dangerously close to one another and the guy's hands hadn't left her hips. an unfamiliar and unexplainable feeling ignited throughout the hockey player's system watching how close they got and he couldn't do anything about it but stand and watch.

he continued making awkward small talk with beth for the time being. she talked some more about her italy trip and what the plans were while will just smiled and nodded along. he did care and it was interesting, but his mind was on samy more than trying to be more engaging with the poor girl in front of him.

the guy was getting more handsy and then suddenly his hands were on samy's butt. the girl jumped and will was over there faster than his brain could process it.

"what? thought you wanted it?" the guy looked annoyed and samy looked somewhat scared.

"excuse me?" the girl countered.

"you're all over me and wearing that? practically asking for it," he laughed and will was tugging on the samy's arm.

"come on. we're leaving," he didn't really let her protest because he pulled her away and back though the gate where they came in.

it was now silence as the two walked back down the street to the house. will was more annoyed and angry at the guy than anything while samy just silently walked beside him. she seemed to not know what to say, but the hockey player wasn't expecting an explanation from her. he had a bad feeling about that guy anyway and that just proved his point.

when they got to the basement window will pushed it open and let samy go in first. he helped her slide down so she didn't fall before squeezing himself back through. they put the screen back in and it was like they never even left once the window was shut and locked.

the boy glanced over at samy who was standing and staring like she was zoning out. he snapped his fingers in her face. "you okay?" he asked when she looked at him.

"yeah, sorry. thank you..for..helping me. i'm sorry i dragged you to that. i'm gonna shower and go to bed," the brunette mumbled and went to the bathroom.

will frowned, but he figured she needed space, so he let her have it.

the next few days were a lot of the same thing. someone would knock on the door for food; they would eat either together or samy would go in the room and leave will in the living room; sometimes they watched tv together sometimes they didn't. after what happened the other night, samy wasn't too inclined to go out again and will didn't really blame her. he was completely fine staying inside, but after the fourth night of not doing anything, the boy was getting a bit antsy and he felt like he needed to move around.

samy was in the bedroom on her computer doing something when he knocked on the wall. she looked up, "i'm kind of bored. you wanna go outside and play in the driveway or something? a little driveway hockey?"

a soft smile fell on her lips, "yeah, sure."

they didn't have to sneak out through the window this time. they walked up the yard to the garage where will lifted it open and searched for the nets and sticks.

"we could make it more fun and use the roller skates?" samy giggled when she saw the pairs of skates laying against one of the walls.

"last time we played with roller skates you fell and dislocated your elbow. i'd rather not have that happen," will gave her a look.

"i was eight and clumsy, but whatever," they exchanged another laugh. will pulled the nets out and samy found the sticks and a few old pucks.

"we'll do best of 3 and play to 5?" the blonde suggested and samy nodded.

"fine by me. you know i never lose," it was true. the youngest hughes dominated in every aspect of hockey whether it was on the ice or on the ground. a lot of it was due to her brothers, but she definitely gained a lot of skill on her own.

the two started in the middle of the nets. will took the lead to shoot the puck straight down the middle, but samy jumped in with her stick to block the attempt. this head started what turned out to be a two hour long ordeal where they played until they physically couldn't anymore. like usual, samy won most of the games leaving will to winning at least one. their ankles were red and bruised from the stick missing the puck and slapping their ankles instead.

"good game, hughes," will offered her a high five when they got the nets back into the garage. they were both sweaty and ready for showers.

"thanks. you played good," the girl grinned. they headed back down the yard to the basement doors and samy let will shower first since he was sweatier than she was.

that was probably the first time in a long time that the two got along without getting into a fight and one of their siblings needing to mediate it. it almost felt..good to be able to hang out like that and not fight. samy was starting to think the whole quarantine thing wasn't so bad after all.

that night they decided to watch a movie together. will wasn't hugely into scary movies, but he watched one for samy's sake because she loved scary movies. they sat a few inches apart on the couch where samy was deeply engrossed in the movie and will was just trying to not look like scaredy cat because it felt a little pathetic being scared of horror movies at fourteen. anytime there was a jump scare, will would jump and samy just pretended not to notice because she was feeling nice and didn't wanna embarrass him.

when the movie ended it wasn't even ten yet so the two sat on the couch in comfortable silence. plus, will needed a second to calm down and get out of his head that a monster wasn't going to be watching him through the window tonight. he kept glancing at samy from time to time. he wondered how she was feeling after the other night when they went out. she hadn't really said much about it to him and the blonde definitely wasn't going to ask if she didn't want to talk about it.

"what if i quit hockey?" samy blurted out after another few minutes of silence. will snapped his gaze to hers.

"what?"

"i might quit hockey," the girl said again more sure of herself this time. this was completely new to will, so he was confused but wanted her to go on. "i think might parents might hate me if i do though, but i dunno. i really like soccer. it's fun and i think i'm good. plus, all the girls in my grade do it."

"why would your parents hate you?" will did not think ellen and jim could ever hate anything. they were always so nice no matter what was going on.

"because it's all my family has ever done and like..i dunno. they probably have huge dreams for me to become some professional hockey player like they do with quinn, jack, and luke," the brunette shrugged.

"i mean, maybe, but i think they would support you in whatever you decide to do. haven't they always told you that?"

"yeah, i just..i don't know. i probably won't quit and keep doing both. i was just thinking about it," samy threw her head against the back of the couch. will could see the thoughts in her brain repeatedly turning over.

"i get it. i feel like everything i do is to please my parents. be the good kid, get good grades, etc. etc. all because grace is already perfect," will hummed.

"sucks to be the youngest, right?" the two shared a laugh. at least that was one thing they could always agree on. they both hated when their older siblings bossed them around and acted better just because they were older.

"i know i kind of said it already, but thank you again for helping me the other night.. you didn't have to," samy changed the subject. she found will's gaze again and the boy smiled a bit.

"yeah, of course. i wasn't gonna just leave you hanging like that.."

"i should have listened to you and not gone. it was stupid. those people are stupid," the younger hughes shook her head.

"how do you know them?" will asked what he had been wondering since he saw that older guy there.

"they're a year older than us. they hang at the country club around here and the guy goes to school down where we live. he talked to me on and off all year and texted and asked if i was coming. i should've known," samy frowned.

"it's not your fault. that guy was an ass and he shouldn't have done that," will shook his head though. if he could go back, he'd punch that guy in a heartbeat. he didn't care that he was a year older. will was definitely stronger by a long shot.

"i don't get what the appeal is to go to those. jack hyped it up way too much when we were younger."

"it's all just guys trying to see how many girls they can talk to in a night or take home. it's stupid anyway," the blonde hummed in agreement.

"isn't that all hockey players are known for?" samy teased a bit which earned her a gentle punch on the arm. she giggled while will rolled his eyes.

"shut up. we're not all like that."

"i know. i'm messing with you. if you were like that, i'd give you so much shit until you fixed your act," she grinned.

sometimes will did wonder why he never found it appealing to try and talk to as many girls as he could or get their snaps and this moment seemed to tell him exactly why. he much rather preferred being called some incel or whatever his teammates liked to say than go around trying to find any girl to talk to. he had everything he needed right in front of him.

"are you excited for dev program? you're doing it right? like two more years?" samy changed the subject again. will didn't mind though. he never liked talking about one thing for too long.

"yeah, i kind of am actually if get in. i don't know if i'll get in. we'll see if i get the invitation for the evaluation camp in two years," will shrugged a bit.

"oh, come on. you're gonna get it. the scouts have been watching and talking about you for years now. they totally want you," samy argued mostly because she's seen will play and he was good. really good.

"you're just saying that," the blonde rolled his eyes.

"am not! i'm serious, will. you're gonna get in and i will be at every single game because it's only half an hour from the house," the brunette grinned which made will smile too.

"good because i'd force you to come anyway."

"serious though, you're gonna get in. they'd be crazy to not take you. you're one of the best junior players in the country and i don't just say those kind of things," samy said seriously and will's smile was genuine. him and samy may argue 24/7, but when it came to sports and their abilities in each, they never played around with that.

"thanks, samy. i appreciate it. i still got two years so i can only get better, right?"

"right," the girl smiled again.

the next week and a half went by fast. by the time samy and will were freed from the basement, a new respect and friendship had been formed. will had samy's back now and their petty arguing was about to become a lot less than before which everyone would be glad for.

"you survived!" luke exclaimed when he saw the younger siblings emerge. he grabbed will into an excited hug which made the blonde laugh. "how was it? was it awful? did she hurt you?" luke was being dramatic. samy punched his arm in annoyance.

"she didn't hurt me, don't worry. it was fine. we chilled. it was good," will shrugged because he wasn't going to air out their business, but he wanted to assure luke that they didn't tear each other apart for two weeks.

"i find that hard to believe. he's mine now," the middle hughes eyed his sister as he pulled will away so they could go do whatever. samy didn't care, but she noticed how will glanced back at her and a tiny smile appeared on her lips as she went to find grace.

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dolli3fication · 29 days ago

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lin lie head canons working as a part time hero ANDDD full time college student!

AHHHHH I love the idea that he has a double life.....

Lin Lie x reader college head canons! fluff & wav Note : Fully unedited and written just for fun !!

- Your precious Lin Lie, constantly overworking himself for no reason. (he's RUNNING to save the world btw) Sweat beading from his short black locks to his forehead, dashing down the hallway once the final assignment was given. - He's constantly late or hardly turns up at all. Given that he is the champion of K'un Lun, he was always in desperate need of saving the world! - Lie has his suit on him regardless at all times, he never knew when danger struck, his only danger alert being the fragments of the sword of Fuxi. Sending him waves of unbearable pain through his forearms, making it unbelievably hard for him to hold up a poker face in front of you. - "Why are you making that face ?...." "what face?" Get a load of this guy...... - Lie would pull the usual stunts Spiderman previously done, sneakily crawling through the window past midnight after a heated battle between him and demons of Chiyou. He'd hold his breath incase of being discovered, or worse, startling his dorm mate. - He would be on high alert at all times, perhaps even flinch if someone posed as harm. Resorting to a stiff tiger pose and an angry fist ready to charge! You thought it was hilarious, but...a little odd with his tense he gets. You honestly never questioned it. - He is always in constant pain! He can hardly lift up a pen, let alone write the date on his page. He prefers to type all the content he made note of. It's easier and requires less friction for him. - I'd say Lie has no extra curricular's ! Given how tight his schedule is, he doesn't participate in other activities out of college. - I wouldn't say his sleep schedule is shit, but definitely fluctuates once in a while. His body may be tense from the previous fights before school , but eventually he'd lay his head down, unconsciously drifting to sleep. You would pester him, poking his cheeks relentlessly until he woke up pissed. - His moodiness would eventually dissipate .With you framed in his gaze, he feels a sense of ease washing over him. - I wouldn't say Lie's grades would be bad, probably on the average thanks to your life saving hacks! He still puts effort into his school work despite having to throw fists most of the time. Though you suggest him to focus more on school then whatever extra activity he has outside the course. - You weren't aware of his situation, hell, you weren't even aware the fact he was the champion and protector of K'un Lun. You've offered him a hand if he needed someone to talk to, of course, your precious Lie clearly had a handful of responsibilities. Lie couldn't reveal his identity, not to anyone, not even you. - The immortal Ironfist is born to protect with the mighty power of Shou-Lao the undying, but Lie doubts himself as the current successor of the molten chi. How must an Iron fist fight with a broken fist? He's self aware of his defects, but what choice does he have but to push through? - You've dated Lie for a year, since the beginning of college. Fresh out of high school, the both of you were sweethearts. And yet, there was still so much to learn about him. - The two of you are equally as hard headed, guess you both were made for each other. - Lie is taking a business course, there are plenty of courses for him and he chose a business course for practicality (?). (To be honest, he wasn't really sure where he was going in life, he only chose the course because you were taking it.) - There would be times where he found himself drowsy from the lack of rest he receives. Dragging himself into your dorm and falling into your arms. He has always kept his stature strong and tall, but with you, he would allow himself to feel pathetically secured in your arms. - You honestly wondered how you bagged such a 10/10. Let alone, have a thick piece of meat laying on you all the time.

- He wears a jacket or long sleeved shirt at all times. Avoiding for you to discover the scars and crystal fragments embedded raw into his arms. You would hear constant wisps of winces from him. "Lie, you okay?" "yeahhhh..I'm good." - He clearly has bad pain tolerance. Still, he was resistant to open up. - And you? You wouldn't take no for an answer. - You see, that's the issue with you! You get into his business when the situation is dire. You know your boundaries well but it gets to an extent when your cosmic girlfriend third eye senses something wrong. Magically, you never pictured your Lie to be the Ironfist. Well avoided case! - He's starting to wonder whether you're just too blind to see he was the ironfist. - For a guy who lives a double life, he manages it pretty well. (At least that's what he thinks...).

#lin lie #iron fist #marvel rivals #lin lie x reader #lin lie x you #ironfist x reader #marvel rivals x reader #marvel #marvel comics #headcanons #hcs #UGHHH I LOVE HIM SOSOOSOSOS MUCH #I'm insane #Lin Lies no1 goonette #HE'S GETTING IT ALL ON HIM

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nahoney22 · 1 month ago

Text

Liar Liar (Part 10/?)

Part 10 - Seeing Double // <<< Part 9

🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female Reader

🫧Chapter Summary: When work is getting too much, you go to 79's to try blow off some steam. But, you find yourself living bitter memories and jealousy.

🫧Warnings: Angst, alcohol mention, light flirting, jealousy, arguing, awkward moments. Dancing, miscommunication, Drama drama dramaaaa (I’m convinced nobody reads these warnings)

The following week was exhausting.

Somehow—Force knows how—Thire and Hound had convinced you to stay.

It had taken hours of back-and-forth, of them wearing you down with reassurances and well-meaning arguments, but in the end, you let them win. Stone, however, remained blissfully unaware of the whole ordeal. Not for lack of trying, though. You’d bet a million credits that he had been pestering Thire and Hound at least a dozen times, demanding to know what was going on.

But, just as Fox had promised, he was too preoccupied with Coruscant’s safety to linger in the office. Not only was Rik Walder still at large, but riots and fires had been breaking out in the lower sectors of Coruscant so his work pile had doubled.

You saw very little of him, only ever catching traces of his presence in the form of an empty caf cup pile steadily accumulating on his desk. Yet somehow, even without seeing him, the weight of everything still lingered.

At least Pia had been keeping you distracted. She messaged every night, checking in, filling the empty space with something lighter. It helped. And with Fox nowhere in sight, the ache in your chest had started to dull.

Unfortunately, the ache in your head was another story.

The systems were a disaster. What you had initially assumed was a one-time mishap with reports and patrol logs had spiraled into an ongoing nightmare.

Errors crept in like clockwork, reports misfiled, schedules jumbled. No one could even work out how it was happening. Technicians were brought in, sifting through the logs for signs of hacking and slicing but nothing. Nada.

Everything was now even triple-checked before uploads, and yet, somehow, the mistakes kept slipping through. And Thorn -bless his soul- was barely holding it together.

He loomed over everyone’s desks like a vulture, giving reminders, breathing down necks. You liked Thorn as a Commander well enough, but if you heard “make sure it’s secure again” one more time, you might throw yourself out the window.

But at least now it was your lunch break. And you could get some peace and quiet. Almost.

“Plans for tonight?” You looked up from your tray in the cafeteria, spoon hovering mid-air, to see Hound and Stone standing in front of you.

“Sleep,” you muttered, eyeing the unrecognisable grey slop on your spoon. “Why?”

“We’re going to 79’s.” Stone rolled his eyes. “I need a break from all these kriffing error checks.”

Your stomach twisted. 79’s. “I don’t know…” You trailed off, letting the spoonful of slop fall back onto your tray with an unceremonious splat.

Hound shot you a knowing look, knowing full well why you didn’t want to go. But Stone, still in the dark, pressed on. “Come on,” he coaxed, grinning. “It’ll be fun. Thire’s going too, though let’s be honest, he’s only going to see your friend.” He waggled his brows.

Your ears perked up. “Pia’s working tonight?” Now that had your interest.

It had been over a week since you last saw her, and the last time you had, you were ugly crying into her arms while devouring an obscene amount of sweet treats. You needed a new memory that was less embarrassing.

You also wanted to know if the two of them ended up on a date, too.

Hound gave you a small nudge of encouragement. “What do ya say? You need a break. Just a few drinks, some bad music, and—” he smirked, “—watching Thire completely lose his cool over Pia.”

You exhaled through your nose, arms crossed. “I’ll think about it.”

“You don’t have to drink,” he added quickly. “Or stay long. But you do need to get out of this place before Thorn gives himself an aneurysm.”

Stone grinned. “You’re coming. I can see it in your face.”

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of a change of scenery and even of normalcy, even for a night was becoming harder to resist. You didn’t want to keep avoiding places just because he had been there. You weren’t about to let Fox ruin 79’s for you.

“Fine,” you muttered, “I’ll go.”

Stone clapped his hands together. “Good. Now you’re making smart choices.”

Hound shot you another look, quieter this time almost as if he was checking in, making sure you were really okay with this. You gave him a small nod. You’d be fine. One night wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

“Oh, and since you’re here—" You barely had time to react before Stone pulled a handful of data pucks from his belt, holding them out like an afterthought. "Can you drop these off with Officer Sinja? The new one?"

Before you could protest, he unceremoniously dumped them onto your tray—right on top of the unappetising slop—then bolted, Hound trailing behind him with a barely concealed grin.

Unbelievable.

Then again, running an errand was still preferable to forcing down whatever questionable meal the kitchen had concocted today. With a resigned sigh, you picked up the data pucks, abandoning your tray altogether.

At least it gave you something to do. Something that didn’t involve system errors, Thorn breathing down your neck, or—

No. You weren’t going to think about him .

Tucking the pucks securely into your belt pouch, you made your way through the corridors, weaving past troopers and officers alike. The station was as busy as ever, filled with the usual hum of voices, boots against durasteel, and the occasional curse from a frustrated officer and new prisoners being escorted to the cells in the lower levels.

It was all fine. Normal.

Until you passed that same vent.

It was shut . But you could have sworn that just for a second, you had seen it shift. Like it had just barely snapped back into place after being moved.

You swallowed, glancing around. The corridor was empty now. Too empty.

You're imagining things. You had to be. Between the stress, the lack of sleep, and the mess of emotions still tangled inside you, it was no surprise your mind was playing tricks. If anything was in the vents after all, it would have been set off in the security alerts.

With a tense inhale, you forced yourself to keep walking, quickening your pace. Maybe getting out tonight really was a good idea.

It isn’t long until you realised you had another problem on your hands that wasn’t the data pucks. The problem was that you had no idea who Officer Sinja actually was.

With a frown, you realised you’d left your datapad in the office, and the idea of trekking all the way back for it just to turn around again made you groan internally. But if your memory served you correctly, Sinja might’ve been that young officer you’d spoken to in the hangar once—back when you were looking for Whisky.

That was as good a place as any to start.

You reached the lift, hitting the button and waiting as the numbers flickered down. The doors slid open, and you stepped inside, selecting your floor. The red lights above blinked with each passing level, and you exhaled.

Then you noticed one light turn green. Someone else was about to join you.

You shuffled toward the side, hoping— praying —it wasn’t a horde of astromechs again. The last time that happened, you’d been wedged into the corner while seven droids piled in, then spent four hours trapped when the lift broke down.

With a small wince at the memory, you kept your gaze down as the doors opened, waiting for whoever was about to step in.

As the door opened, your gaze inadvertently travelled along the floor when you spoke a pair of white boots. And then as your gaze moved up, a deep red stripe along the knee plates.

Instantly, your head snapped up and your eyes lock onto the visor that was probably the last one you wanted to.

Your body stiffened, fingers curling at your sides. He froze, too, hovering at the threshold like he’d just walked into a battlefield unarmed. For a second, neither of you moved.

Then he shifted back a step. “I’ll get the next one.”

His voice was gruff, controlled. But he wasn’t looking at you. His helmet was tilted just slightly toward the floor, like if he didn’t see you, this wouldn’t be happening.

You weren’t sure why you did it. Your body moved before your mind could catch up, and suddenly, your hand shot out, stopping the door from sealing. “N-no, it’s okay,” you said, voice quieter than intended. “There’s enough room.”

Fox hesitated. You swore you felt the weight of his stare even though you couldn’t see his eyes. He glanced between your hand and your face, as if trying to decode something—why you’d stopped him, why you would let him in.

Stiffly, he nodded and stepped inside.

The air in the lift grew heavy the second the doors slid shut.

He reached forward to press his floor button, and you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he couldn’t see the way your fingers trembled.

The silence that settled between you was thick, stretched taut like a wire about to snap.

The lift hummed. A steady, low vibration beneath your feet.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “How’s your hand?”

The question startled you. You blinked, glancing at your palm—the one you’d burned on scalding caf last week.

“Fine,” you managed, though it came out too high-pitched, too breathy. You cleared your throat. “Uh, the medic put some kind of gel—or spray—on it. I don’t know. But yeah, it’s fine.”

Fox shifted on his feet, rocking slightly on his heels. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s good.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say.

The tension wasn’t budging. It was thick, suffocating, like the walls were about to close in like a trash compactor.

You sucked in a slow breath, then blurted out, “How’s, uh… life?”

Really? That was the best you could come up with?

Fox exhaled, the sound somewhere between amusement and exhaustion. “Same old, same old.”

Except it wasn’t. You heard it in his voice—the weight of something unspoken.

Maybe small talk wasn’t the worst idea. Maybe if you could just talk to him, things would feel less… tangled. You risked a glance at him, but it only made your stomach tighten and heart sink.

“Any luck on that prisoner?”

This time, he did sigh, lifting a gloved hand to his helmet as if pinching the bridge of his nose beneath it. “No. Nothing yet.”

“Oh.” You shifted uncomfortably.

“Are you… worried?” He didn’t turn his head, but you caught the slight tilt of his helmet as he regarded you from the corner of his visor.

“Sure,” you admitted. “From his record, I don’t remember anything particularly pleasant. I just… hope you catch him.”

“Yeah,” Fox murmured. “Me too.”

Are we not there yet?

The silence stretched again.

“Haircut?”

This time you looked at him, raising a brow. “S-Sorry?”

“Your hair… looks different.”

Your hand moves to your hair as if it wasn’t you who had washed, brushed it and styled it this morning. “Uh, no.” You say almost sheepishly. “I’m just wearing it up today.”

“Oh, yeah. Obviously.” Fox swallows, looking away from you.

You inhaled slowly—then regretted it immediately.

He still smelled the same. That warm, familiar scent that clung to your memory, pulling you back to that night in the cab. To the way he’d drawn you close, arm slung over your shoulders, voice murmuring into your ear…

You swallowed hard.

“Any plans this evening?”

His voice snapped you back to the present, and you jolted. “Oh—uh. Yeah. Hound asked me to go to 79’s with him.”

Silence. A few seconds too long.

“He did?”

There was something odd in his tone. Strained.

You suddely realised how that might have sounded. “And Stone,” you clarified quickly. “They both invited me. Y-You could come too.”

Fox didn’t speak at first. Then, briskly, he nodded. “You deserve a break.” He settled.

Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I guess. Though instead of actually taking a break, I’m running errands for Stone.”

Fox tilted his head—a familiar motion, one you now hated to admit looked adorable on him. “Why?”

You explained the data pucks, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you felt the eye-roll behind his visor. “Could he not do it himself?”

“Obviously not,” you muttered, sighing.

The lift still wasn’t there yet.

“Do you even know who Officer Sinja is?”

“Kind of.” You hesitated. “I think I met him in the hangar once.”

Fox let out a breath and nodded. “You did. That’s him.”

You resisted the urge to shift again. You remembered that conversation now. Sinja had been smooth-talking, arrogant in a way that could be charming or insufferable depending on the day. And you remembered something else, too:

Fox had been watching.

The lift finally dinged.

The doors hissed open, revealing your destination and Fox stepped aside giving you room to pass.

But for a moment, you didn’t move.

And you weren’t sure why.

The air felt different now. The weight of his presence behind you pressed against your skin, a silent question hovering in the air between you both.

Then, just as the door started to close, Fox stopped it with his foot.

His voice was quiet when he asked, “Is this where you want to be?”

The question wasn’t just about the floor. It wasn’t just about the lift.

It was about him .

Was this where you wanted to be? Standing on the edge of something unresolved, pretending it didn’t hurt?

Your breath hitched. Then, softly, you nodded.

“Yes.”

And you stepped out.

You walked ahead, not looking back but you felt his stare on you and you will yourself not to look back.

Although, you find yourself really wanting to.

⋅⋅───⊱༺  🦊 ༻⊰───⋅⋅

Getting ready for 79’s took longer than it should have.

You stood in front of your closet, arms crossed, debating over what to wear like it actually mattered. It didn’t, really. It was just a night out; a distraction. But something in your gut told you to put in the effort.

Your fingers skimmed over the fabric hanging before you, pausing when they brushed against something familiar. Soft material, deep red.

The dress.

You pulled it from the rack, letting it drape over your hands, the weight of it heavier than it should’ve been. It was the one you’d worn that night. The night with him . The one that never really got to happen.

A sigh escaped you as you ran a hand through your hair. You should have let Pia keep it when you left it at hers. Stars, maybe you should’ve burned it. But… you hadn’t.

And you weren’t sure what that said about you.

“Whatever,” you muttered, shoving it back and reaching for something else.

A top you hadn’t worn in a while. A skirt that felt a little daring (in your eyes, at least). Heels that deserved a night out, even if they’d make you regret it in the morning.

It wasn’t for anyone in particular. Just for you . That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

79’s was alive with its usual chaotic energy by the time you arrived.

Music thumped through the walls, a steady bassline that vibrated under your feet. The scent of cheap alcohol and something fried lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and polished plastoid. Conversations overlapped, voices rising and falling, troopers crowded around tables, shouting over drinks, some even dancing, playing hologames. or just simply blowing off steam after another long shift.

You moved through the bodies, sidestepping a trooper who nearly sloshed his drink on you, and made your way to the bar. Settling onto a stool, you scanned for a familiar face. It didn’t take long as Pia was in the thick of it, handling a rush of orders.

When your eyes met, she practically lit up, waving so energetically you thought she might knock over the bottle she was reaching for. Instead, she managed to steady it at the last second, shooting you a quick ‘one sec’ before turning back to pour a round of shots.

“A beauty, isn’t she?” You turned to see Thire settling into the stool beside you, his eyes fixed on Pia with such open admiration it was almost laughable.

You grinned. “Always has been.”

Thire exhaled, like he was trying to play it cool but failing spectacularly. “We went out last night.”

“Oh?” You leaned in, thoroughly enjoying his smug expression. “And?”

He smirked, slow and self-satisfied. “It went great .”

Before you could pry for details, Pia finally made her way over, all confidence as she purred, “Hey, hot stuff.”

Thire barely suppressed a grin, straightening. “Hey, you—”

“I was talking to her,” Pia cut in smoothly, glancing your way with a mischievous smirk.

You snorted into your drink, and Thire’s face immediately fell, mouth snapping shut.

Pia, delighted with herself, laughed before leaning over the bar and pressing a kiss to Thire’s cheek. Just like that, his mood rebounded, his smirk returning in full force.

“Hey, you,” he murmured, clearly savouring the moment.

You rolled your eyes. “You two are cute. I hate it.”

Pia winked as she reached for a glass. “You love it.

She slid a drink across the bar toward you with a flourish. “On the house.”

You frowned. “Pia—”

“Nope.” She folded her arms. “As long as I’m working here, you don’t owe me a single credit.”

You sighed, eyeing the drink, then her. “Fine. But I’m buying you food later.”

She considered this, then gave a slow nod. “I’ll allow it.”

Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Thire. “Stone and Hound here yet?”

Thire rolled his eyes. “They’re outside. One of the new shinies from the 212th had one too many shots and thought he could go round-for-round with a Corrie.”

You snorted. “Let me guess, thought he could hold his liquor?”

Thire smirked. “Poor bastard didn’t even make it past the third shot.”

The three of you fell into easy conversation, drinks flowing. Pia and Thire were perfect for each other, bounced off each other and you had to try and suppress a jealous feeling in your stomach.

Eventually, Thire finished off his drink and stood with a stretch. “Gonna go check in on the lads.”

Before he could step away, Pia grabbed his hand, tugging him back just enough to steal a quick kiss. “Don’t start any fights.”

Thire grins down at her. “No promises.” She swatted his arm, laughing as he disappeared into the crowd.

Alone now, Pia wiped down the bar as the onslaught of clones dwindled before leaning forward against the counter. There was a look on her face, hesitant but knowing, and you could already guess where this was going.

“You can ask if you want,” you muttered, swirling the ice in your glass.

Pia sighed. “How’s the thing with you and Fox?”

You exhaled slowly, staring into your drink. “There is no ‘ thing’ to begin with. I just… feel weird whenever I’m near him.”

Pia arched a brow. “Weird how?”

You hesitated, then told her about the lift; the tension, the awkward small talk, the way Fox had hesitated before stepping inside and how you let him in in the first place. How, for a brief moment, you’d both just stood there when the doors opened, neither of you moving.

Pia, for once, was quiet. You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

She bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. “Don’t hate me because I know how much this upset you… but do you think it’s worth possibly exploring something with him? As Fox?”

You stared at Pia, almost disgusted at the thought. “He lied to me, Pia”

She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I know, I know. And I’m not saying what he did was right, because it wasn’t. But—”

“Oh, there’s a but now?” You huffed, crossing your arms.

Pia gave you a look, the kind that said don’t be difficult , but she pressed on anyway. “We know he didn’t do it to mess with you. He didn’t do it to get you fired. Or humiliate you. Or as some kind of stupid prank.” She shook her head, watching you closely. “He did it all on his own. No one put him up to it.”

You scoffed, looking away and back down at your drink. “Right. And that makes it better ?”

“I just think…” Pia hesitated, then continued carefully, “Maybe he really liked you.”

The words twisted something in your chest, but you forced a bitter laugh. “Doubt it.”

Your mind went back to that night in the refresher—the way you had cornered him, raw and desperate for the truth, asking if any of it had meant something, if anything he said was true. But he had just stood there. Silent. No answer. No confirmation. Not even a single damn word to give you peace of mind.

Pia studied you, but she must have seen the storm in your expression because she softened. “You should talk to him.”

You tensed. “No.”

“Just hear him out.”

“No.”

She groaned, throwing her hands up. “Oh, for kriff’s sake, will you just —”

“What ? ” You snapped, voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the bar. “Let you and Thire push me into talking to him? Try and set us up again like you’re some kind of miracle workers? Just because your love life is suddenly peachy doesn’t mean I should forgive someone who deceived me and embarrassed me!”

Pia’s expression flickered with hurt and frustration. Then, with a shake of her head, she muttered, “I need to serve someone on the other side of the bar,” and walked away.

The moment she was gone, guilt sank its teeth into you.

You knew she only meant well. She always did. But she didn’t know what it felt like to build a connection with someone, to feel that pull toward them, only to find out it had all been a lie .

Nobody did.

You huffed, rubbing your temples and slouching forward on the bar. Everything inside you felt messy and tangled.

You felt sorry for yourself, sure, but you felt even worse for Pia. Her usual spark, that infectious joy that lit up every corner of a room, was gone. She moved mechanically behind the bar now, polite but muted, handing drinks over with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Your gaze drifted across the room, zeroing in on the empty stool near the far end of the bar. That stool. The one Fox had sat at the first night you met ‘Whisky’. You stared at it like it might conjure him if you focused hard enough—but it didn’t. It just sat there. Vacant. And the longer you stared at it, the more your gut twisted with confusion.

Would you ignore him if he were there now? Would you walk up and demand answers? Or would you crumble under the weight of everything you still felt, despite how badly you wanted to be over it? Over him?

Frustrated, you let your head fall into your hands with a groan.

“Can I refill your drink?”

The voice came from behind, a little too smooth to be accidental. You blinked, lifting your head and glancing over your shoulder.

A clone stood there—handsome, of course. They always were. But this one was clearly a shiny. Stark white armour, no markings, no scuffs. Practically fresh out the vat. He gave you a charming smile, the kind that probably worked on half the people in here already tonight.

You lifted your glass, giving it a tiny shake before setting it back down. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

He moved to your side, still keeping a respectful distance, like he’d been trained well in the art of not being pushy. “No worries. Just saw you sitting here. Looked like you needed a bit of a pick-me-up.”

You snorted softly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Well,” he said with a playful shrug, “you’ve got that look.”

You arched a brow. “What look?”

He grinned. “The ‘I need someone to come over and distract me from whatever is eating me alive’ look.”

You let out a laugh “You might be onto something.”

He leaned a little closer, his tone lighter. “So… how about a dance? Just one. You look like you could use a little movement therapy.”

You hesitated, glancing down at your half-finished drink, then back toward the empty stool across the bar. The music was loud, the bass thrumming through your chest, and the lingering buzz from your drink made everything just a little warmer, a little fuzzier around the edges.

Screw it. What’s one dance?

“Okay,” you said, pointing a mock-stern finger at him. “But no funny business.”

“Cross my heart,” he said, miming the gesture with a grin.

You let him lead you to the center of the dance floor, bodies pulsing and swaying around you in time with the beat. The music was thunderous, the lights casting bright flashes across the room, and for once, you let yourself lean into it.

The liquid courage you had been served by Pia made your moves smooth, fluid even. As for the Clone, he danced like he knew exactly where the line was and kept it friendly, playful, respectful.

It was exactly what you needed. A distraction. A little freedom.

The clone spun you smoothly with a boyish grin, and as the beat picked up again, he leaned closer and asked with a playful lift of his brow, “Another?”

You hesitated for a breath, eyeing his outstretched hand. He looked so eager, so harmless in his own cheeky little way—and truthfully, the night had already gone off the rails emotionally. What was a little more harmless chaos?

“Screw it,” you muttered and took his hand.

He beamed and pulled you right back into the rhythm, both of you swaying to the beat. This time, though, he dared a little more—his hand found your waist, featherlight at first, just testing. Waiting for the pushback.

You didn’t give it.

His confidence kicked in. The grip on your hip firmed just a little, and his other hand stayed loosely linked with yours as he guided you through the crowd. His voice was warm and easygoing as he leaned in. “You dance pretty well for someone who looked like she was about to cry into her drink.”

You shot him a glare. “Wow. You always this smooth?”

“Only when it’s working.” His grin widened.

“You trying to pick me up, shiny?”

“That depends. Is it working?”

You snorted, tilting your head with faux-seriousness. “A little. But I’m still undecided.”

“Good. I like a challenge.” He winked.

The conversation was easy and natural. His flirting was cheeky enough to be fun without being suffocating. You were actually enjoying yourself—laughing even—as you both leaned in close to hear each other over the pounding bass, your bodies swaying in tandem.

And then you saw him.

Over the clone’s shoulder, you caught a glimpse of red armor moving past the crowd. Fox.

Just off to the side of the bar, leaning against it with his usual practiced stillness, arm braced as he reached for a drink offered by one of the droids. Pia was nowhere near him—and of course she wasn’t. You knew she wouldn’t serve him.

But your body froze.

The clone you were with was still talking but his words came through like static.

Because then she appeared.

A woman. Striking. Stunning.

She stepped up beside Fox with all the familiarity of someone who knew him well. You watch as her hand lands lightly on his forearm, leaning in to speak.

Your stomach twisted.

That sick, lurching ache started in your chest and crawled down your spine. It was a feeling you knew all too well—the same hollow punch you’d felt when you caught your ex sneaking around behind your back.

Except this wasn’t your ex. And he wasn’t yours.

“I’m Whisky, by the way.”

The voice snapped you back like a slap. You blinked, suddenly aware of the clone’s hand still on your waist, his face inches from yours, smiling.

“What?”

He tilted his head, confused by your expression. “My name,” he said, still smiling. “Whisky, ma’am.”

Your world spun.

You simply stare at the clone. Your voice had vanished, like your brain refused to make sense of what he’d just said.

“Is that a joke?” you manage, the words flat and shaky.

He shifts, confused. “Ma’am?”

Completely unaware of the war now erupting inside your head, he blinks at your sudden switch in emotion as you pull away from his touch.

“Did I say something wrong—?”

“I have to go,” you rasp, voice barely holding together. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t wait for his response. Couldn’t. You turned and pushed through the crowd, shoulder brushing shoulders, limbs catching on others mid-dance. The music was suddenly thunderous, pounding through your chest like your heartbeat was syncing with the bass. Lights flashed, voices shouted, laughter echoed—but it all blurred into a wash of noise that had now swallowed you whole.

You felt like the walls were closing in. Your breath came short. Too many bodies. Too many faces. Too much everything.

You finally broke through the crush at the exit and staggered into the cold night. A gust of chilled air slammed into your lungs, and you gasped like someone who had been drowning.

Your hands trembled as you leaned against the nearest post near the cab bay, chest heaving like you’d just run a marathon. But it wasn’t exertion and it wasn’t the alcohol.

It was the cruel, gut-punch realisation of how fate had twisted the knife.

What were the odds?

Falling for a man who lied and called himself Whisky —only to later dance with the real one . A clone who was bright, kind, flirtatious… and had done absolutely nothing wrong except exist.

You let out a bitter laugh that barely made it past your lips. What’s joke.

But then your mind cruelly drifted to him again. Fox.

The flash of red armour, the drink in hand. The woman beside him. Her fingers brushing his forearm.

Pia’s voice echoed in your head, maddening and far too well-timed. "Maybe he really liked you."

You let out a breathless, humourless huff. “Yeah. Joke’s on me.”

“You alright?”

You flinched, spinning so fast on your heel you nearly toppled over. Luckily you were caught by a hand on your shoulder that belonged to Hound.

He steadied you with ease, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in your sickly expression, watery eyes, and unsteady stance.

“Too much to drink, eh?”

You tried to speak. Tried to wave it off, make a joke, anything . But nothing came.

Then he saw it, your eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Wait, hey,” he said, voice dropping in concern. “Are you alright?”

You broke.

The emotion hit you like a crashing wave as you stumbled forward and sobbed into your hands, chest heaving under the weight of it all. “I feel so stupid , Hound,” you choked, the tears falling now, unrelenting, hot against your cheeks. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I feel so… so…”

But the words failed you. Because how could you even begin to explain it? The betrayal, the confusion, the jealousy, the aching longing for something that might never have been real in the first place?

Hound didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to offer clumsy comfort or tell you that everything would be okay. Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you

One strong arm crossed your back, the other settling gently at your shoulder as he pulled you into his chest without hesitation. You collapsed into him, clinging to the warmth and stability he offered like it might keep you from falling apart entirely. His hand moved slowly in comforting circles across your back

You didn’t know how long you stood there like that, locked in a silent embrace under the hazy streetlight glow outside 79’s. But eventually, the storm inside you dulled just enough for you to pull away, still sniffling as you swiped your cheeks with trembling fingers.

You exhaled, shaky and uneven, and looked up into the night sky in a vain attempt to keep any more tears from spilling. “Sorry, Hound.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said simply, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t like seeing you like this. None of us do.”

You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite make it past your lips. “I don’t think Fox would care.”

But Hound just shook his head slowly, lips pursing in quiet disagreement. “He definitely would.”

You let out a bitter, disbelieving scoff—but nausea coiled in your stomach at the memory of Fox at the bar. The look on his face. The way the woman touched his arm. That stupid, stupid beautiful woman.

“I’d like to believe that,” you said hollowly, “but if he told me? I wouldn’t believe him.”

Hound didn’t push. He only nodded solemnly and raised a hand to signal a cab. “Get some rest, this thing you’re going through will pass.”

When one pulled up, you stepped toward it, but not before snapping a little too sharply: “I’m not going through anything.”

The silence that followed stung.

You closed your eyes, hating how your voice had cracked, how petty it sounded—even to you. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, quieter this time. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know,” Hound said gently.

The cab hissed open, and just as you stepped forward, he pulled out a handful of credits and handed them to the driver before you could protest. You gave him a small, wordless nod and climbed in.

As the cab pulled away, taking you from a rather terrible evening.

As Hound turned, ready to rejoin Thire and Stone, he stills as he came face to face with Fox.

The commander was standing rigid, eyes locked on the departing cab, his jaw tense and unreadable. A heavy silence settled between them before Fox stepped forward, his tone sharp and bitter.

“That looked cosy.”

Ah. There it was.

Jealousy.

Hound’s face remained calm, but his mouth tightened ever so slightly. “Probably looked the same way you and that civvie looked. You know, the woman at the bar. Same one you were with in the same spot you first talked to her.”

Fox’s face twisted in frustration, already shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. She was just thanking me. I pulled her out of that apartment fire in Sector Eight the other night.”

Hound raised a brow. “I believe you. She didn’t.”

Fox’s fists clenched tighter as he gave the ground a frustrated kick, scuffing his boot against the duracrete with a low growl that sounded far more dramatic than he intended. “How the kriff am I making things worse when I’m not even with her?”

Hound leaned lazily against the railing beside him, arms folded, watching traffic streak past on the levels below. “I thought you said you talked to her today?”

Fox groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “I tried. I think I said something about her hair.”

There was a pause. “…Her hair ?” Hound’s lips twitched, and Fox didn’t have to look to know he was holding back laughter.

“I panicked, alright?” Fox muttered. “It looked nice and I forgot how to be a person. My brain turned into soup.”

Hound finally let out a low chuckle, patting him condescendingly on the shoulder. “Smooth. Real smooth.”

Fox glared at him but didn’t deny it.

“I just—” he exhaled hard. “Is there even a point anymore? She was dancing with some shiny tonight, probably moved on. And then there was you ,” he added with a bitter edge, side-eyeing Hound. “She had her arms all over you.”

Hound didn’t even flinch. He just slapped Fox on the back of the head.

“ Ow. ”

“She was crying,” Hound said flatly. “She is not into me, she was just upset. And like I told you, she saw you with that civvie at the bar and her whole face changed. She looked like someone punched her in the gut.”

Fox instantly panicked when he heard you was crying, worried that you had been hurt Fox blinked. “Wait… you think she was jealous ?”

“Yeah,” Hound said, nodding. “I do. And you know what that means.”

“That she wants to feed me to a rancor?” Fox guessed.

“That she still cares , idiot.”

Fox went quiet, staring down at the passing speeders below. He chewed the inside of his cheek, thoughts tripping over each other. She cares. She was jealous. She danced with someone else but still cried about me. Okay. That’s good. Terrible. Confusing. But good. Kinda.

“…She’s still pissed at me, though.”

“Oh, that’s a given,” Hound said, clapping him on the back again. “But maybe that’s not a bad thing. Means she still gives a care. And before you ask, no, I am not speaking to her on your behalf.”

Fox sighed, leaning on the railing beside him. “So what do I do?”

Hound raised a brow. “Figure out what you want to say. Then actually say it before you combust.”

Fox nodded slowly, eyes narrowing in determination. “Okay,” he muttered, “but just to be clear… I’m never mentioning her hair again.”

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autolenaphilia · 8 months ago

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God, the end of support for Windows 10 will be such a fucking bloodbath. It’s coming a year from now, 14 october 2025 and it will be a disaster. The one Windows version supported by Microsoft will be Windows 11, and its hardware requirements are like the rent, too damn high.

Literally most computers running Windows 10 can’t upgrade to Windows 11. 55% of working computers aren’t able to run windows 11 according to an analysis. A man quoted in the article argues even that is too optimistic considering how many older computers are still used. He thinks even an estimate of 25% of win10 machines being able to upgrade to win11 is too high an estimate, and frankly he sounds reasonable.

This will probably lead to two things.

Number one is a mountain of e-waste as people get rid of old computers unsupported by microsoft despite the hardware working fin ,and buy new windows 11 machines. It’s the great Windows 11 computer extinction experiment, as writer Jenny List called it. And when you buy a new computer with windows pre-installed, the windows license fee is baked into the price. So a windfall in license money for Microsoft, and the real reason why they are doing this.

Number two is a cybersecurity crisis. A lot of people will keep on using Windows 10 because “end of support” doesn’t mean it will stop working on that date. But the end of support means the end of security updates for the operating system. That will make those systems very unsafe, if they are connected to the internet. Security flaws and exploits for windows 10 will be discovered, problems that will never be patched because win10 isn’t supported anymore and they will be used against systems still running it.

Apparently a lot of people don’t understand this so I’ll try to explain this again as simply as I can. No human being is perfect, and accordingly nobody can write the perfect software that is safe from all cybersecurity threats forever. Security flaws and exploits will always be found, if the computer running that software is connected to the internet, which means it can be attacked by every bad actor out there. This is especially true if that software is as complex and important as an operating system, and it’s also widely used, which is true of Windows. But if the software is supported, the people who design and distribute that software can write patches and send out security updates that will patch the exploits that are found, minimizing the risks inherent to software, computers and the internet. It’s a constant race between well-meaning developers and bad actors, but if the developers are good about it, they will stay ahead.

But when support for the software is dropped, that means the developers will no longer patch the software. And that’s what happening to Windows 10 in october 2025. Any new exploits for the operating system that are found, and they will inevitably be found, won’t be patched by Microsoft. The exploits will stay unpatched, the system will be old and full of holes and anyone using it will be unsafe.

We already have this problem with people who are still using Windows 7 and Windows 8, years after Microsoft dropped support, often because their computers can’t upgrade even to windows 10. They are probably a disproportionate amount of the people getting hacked and their data stolen. From reading what they write to justify themselves online, my impression is that these people are frankly ignorant about technology and the dangers of what they are doing. And they are filled with the absurd self-confidence the ignorant often have, as they believe themselves to be too careful and tech-savvy to be hacked.

The problem will however explode with windows 10 ending support, because the gap in hardware requirements between win10 and win11 is so large, as already explained.

(sidenote, running unsupported operating systems can be safe, as long as you don’t connect the computer to the internet. You can even run windows 3.1 in perfect safety as long as its kept off the ‘net. But that’s a different story, I’m talking here about people who connect their computers to the internet)

So let’s imagine this very common scenario: you have a computer running Windows 10. You can’t upgrade it to windows 11 because most win10 computers literally can’t. You want to keep the computer connected to the internet for obvious reasons. You don’t have the money to get a new windows 11 computer, and you don’t want to throw your old perfectly useable hardware away. So what do you do?

The answer is install linux. Go to a reputable distro’s website like linuxmint.com, read and follow their documentation on how to install and use it. Just do it. If you are running windows 10, you have until October 14 2025 to figure it out. And if you are running windows 7 or 8, do it now.

There are good reasons for not using Linux and sticking with windows, linux has serious downsides. But when the choice is literally between an old unsupported version of windows and Linux, linux wins everytime. Every reason for not installing linux, every downside to the switch, all those are irrelevant when your alternative is literally running old unsupported windows on a machine connected to the internet. Sure linux might not be user-friendly enough for you, but that’s kinda irrelevant when the other alternatives presented is either throwing the computer away or sacrificing it to a botnet. And if you believe yourself to be too tech-savvy and careful to ever get pwned (as some present-day windows 7 users clearly believe themselves to be), that’s bullshit. If you really were careful and tech-savvy you would take the basic precaution of installing a supported operating and know how to do it.

I don’t think everyone can just switch to linux, at least not full time. If you need windows because your work requires it, frankly your only realistic option is to have a computer that supports win11 when october 2025 rolls around. If you don’t, either you have to pay for it yourself or ask your employer to supply a work computer with win11. Just don’t use Windows 10 for work stuff past that date, I doubt your co-workers, your employer or your customers will appreciate you putting their data at risk by doing so.

The rest of you, please don’t contribute to the growing problem of e-waste by throwing away perfectly useable hardware or put yourself at risk by using unspported versions of Windows. Try Linux instead.

#windows 10 eol #my posts #linux

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fanficsandcodposts · 8 days ago

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König X Reader (F) ~Nerdy Little Maus~ When the reader successfully gets into a Dark Web Forum and makes a name for herself, how unfortunate for her she's a little to trusting with her client. How fortunate for the client, König, though that she falls right into his trap for him to take his nerdy little maus, all for himself. (Daddy Issues, Sugar Daddy, Kidnapping, Corruption Kink, Size Kink, Female Reader) Ao3 Link No TW - Part 1

Life had not been kind to you when you were young. Your mother passed away tragically, leaving you to be cared for by your father, who took the bottle to cope with her death. You tried desperately to gain his favor by excelling in your studies, but sadly, his drinks kept all his attention.

You were taking a computer science class in high school and excelling at learning code. The teacher, Mr. Johnson, was impressed at your ability to pick up the new information so quickly. Mr. Johnson pulled you aside one day and handed you a flyer for an ethical hacking competition; he truly believed you had what it took to win. For a few weeks straight, you stayed after school studying with a small group of other students, learning everything Mr. Johnson knew to teach. On the Saturday of the competition, your father begrudgingly permitted you to go with Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson, and a few other classmates as a group.

You won the competition that day and were awarded a $10,000 scholarship to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). The joy you felt as you stood on stage accepting your scholarship brought tears of happiness to your eyes. It was a shame your father was too busy-(drunk) to see how you glowed with pride at the most significant achievement of your life thus far.

Now, you sat in a dingy studio apartment. Staring at your Dell laptop at overdue bill emails. Student loans, rent, and credit card payments all accumulated with no significant income to pay them. You graduated from MIT but at the cost of over $80,000 in student loans. You couldn't find a job in the computer science field; the only work you landed was as a bartender at the bar down the street from your place. At least you were good at making drinks; tips kept the lights on, but you were sure you'd never make it out of the financial ruin you sadly got yourself into.

Whenever the manager encountered computer issues, you were always the first one he'd call. One day, while on the clock, you sat in his office, updating his pc to Windows 10. He watched as you had no issues clicking here and there; it was almost infuriating because, to him, what you did so effortlessly would have taken him hours to achieve just step one.

"You know, sweetheart, you need to get out of here and get a job in the computer field." Mike, the manager, said gruffly as he leaned arms crossed on his office door frame.

"Would if I could, Mike. I've all about givin' up on that dream." You replied, still staring at the blue computer screen.

"Don't cut yourself short. You are young, beautiful, and way smarter than any of the other idiots I have working here. Bring in the most money, too. I would miss that, though, if ya leave."

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, well, I use my pretty privilege more than my fucking MIT degree. But it helped me pull a $100 tip last week from the bachelor party, though. So don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, Mike."

Mike stands quietly and clears his throat, waiting a brief moment before he speaks again.

"Don't tell anyone I told ya, alright? But my buddy David knows a kinda underground Dark Web group that is always looking for someone like you. You know, that knows how to do computer stuff." He talked as he gestured vaguely with his hands.

You turn your head to Mike with a curious, almost dumbfounded look. "I don't know, Mike. The Dark Web is a pretty scary place I've heard. But they have open computer science jobs?"

"Yeah, from what I could understand, it's like a job forum, I guess. They have special passwords and whatever, but if you get in, they post jobs for people to take up and work."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Mike, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness in thinking of you, so you decided to take the bait.

"Sure, you give me the info, and I'll look into it, boss man."

A few days later, you received an email from someone you guessed was Mike's buddy, David, on your day off and clicked the link that opened a new web browser to a black screen. You fiddled with the settings on your old Dell laptop while sitting cross-legged on your thrifted couch when you increased the brightness to see a small set of instructions.

"I'll be dammed." You spoke quietly as you began your journey to unlock the puzzles hidden in the code.

It took five hours to finally get to the last section that unlocked access to the Dark Web forum. Sure enough, there were jobs from all around the world posted. As quickly as your excitement grew, worry flooded over you. These were not regular hacking jobs. Some were as simple as finding passwords to ex-lovers' accounts, but others were looking for classified government data locked away behind high-security firewalls. The thought of possible jail time or worse was frightening, so you shut your laptop and went to shower before bed. That night, you couldn't sleep, primarily due to the fear of the unknown but also because some of the jobs posted had the amount of money they were offering when completed. The memory of a 10,000 dollar payout for a hacking job bounced around your mind, toying with you. It danced along in bitter-sweet harmony with the memory of the 10k scholarship you won so many years ago.

On your next day off, you entered the forum again. It was too hard to resist the temptation of a simple job paying your rent for the month. So you avoided the big, scary ones and stuck to hacking into wealthy civilian accounts. You created an online persona account that allows the clients to send money and messages as needed. You called yourself "Cookie," a play on Cookie pop-ups for advertisers to gather your online information. Soon, you grew a small following and became recognized for your impressive hacking abilities and Trojan Virus creations. You told yourself repeatedly you were only ruining wealthy people's lives. What is a million dollars stolen from a billionaire anyway? It only took eight months to pay back almost all your debts. You've paid your rent up, no more credit card bills, and you've paid $5,000 into your student loan debts. You felt on top of the world and proud of your mischievous achievements.

It had been a long shift at the bar, and you entered your tiny apartment completely exhausted. You reheated some leftovers and took your regular seat on the couch. You open your laptop to see a new message on your Dark Web account.

"Hallo, Cookie. I am very impressed by your work. Care to look at a job I think you would be perfect for?"

You stared at the message as your curiosity peaked. You click on the stranger's profile to learn more about the mysterious sender. There is no profile picture, but in a small bio, the sender had "Austria" with a cute little red and white flag. They identified themselves as male, and his username was "TheKingCol."

That's interesting, you thought. You haven't worked with many international clients thus far. Your eyes began to cross as exhaustion set in deep in your bones. So, you decided to pick back up with the stranger tomorrow after sending him a message.

"Thank you for your message; yes, I would like to speak further with you. Let's chat more tomorrow."

You woke up later than usual with the sun high in the sky, peeking through your closed curtains. You stretched your body, and after a trip to the bathroom, you returned to your laptop. A new message was waiting for you, and you clicked it open to read. It was a Word Document link with what the client needed. He needed a Trojan Virus, and it had to be discreet so that the victim downloading it wouldn't know it was a fake link.

"That's not too bad." You thought to yourself.

You had created multiple Trojans up to this point, but it helps tremendously if you know what would make the victim unsuspecting to download the disguised Trojan.

"Hello again. I received your instructions, but I would like to discuss more details needed to create the perfect Trojan you are looking for, if possible."

You sent the message and waited a few minutes before your stomach began to growl. You stood up and began to rummage through your fridge for anything you could make to resemble breakfast and settled on making two fried eggs and a buttered piece of toast.

Once you ate your food, you returned to your seat to see another message had come through.

"Ja, may I call you to discuss details?"

You stared at the email, re-reading it. You quickly googled what language is spoken in Austria, and it said that mainly German is spoken. "He must not be a native English speaker," you thought, but that shouldn't be a problem. You, however, only knew English and maybe one or two words in Spanish.

"I'm sorry, I do not make phone calls or talk to clients outside the forum." You sent the message back and waited while you took sips of coffee from your favorite mug.

"Ah, but can't you make an exception for me? I understand your concern, little maus. I see you are a woman, no? Your father taught you well not to trust strangers on the internet."

You scoffed out loud at his message, placed your mug on the coffee table in front of you, and typed him back before thinking.

"Let's be clear that my Father has never done shit for me, first of all." You instantly regretted the message sent, normally you would write messages but always caught them before you tapped the enter button. There is no way to unsend a message like on Facebook. Airing out such dirty laundry to a client was entirely uncalled for and absolutely embarrassing.

"I'm sorry, that was very unprofessional of me. Please ignore that comment." You sent another message as quickly as you could type it. A few agonizing minutes later, you received a response.

"Is that so? A woman needs a supportive father to look after her, you know. No need to apologize Liebling. Here is my phone number; please call me if you decide to proceed. I will not discuss any more details by message."

That was the last message he sent before his profile was marked as "offline."

A day later, you paced around your living room. You held your phone tightly in your right hand. There was something about what he said that stuck with you long after you read it. Why on earth did you let your daddy's issues slip through to a prospective client? Embarrassment washed over you all over again, and soon enough, the anxiety of calling a client outside the forum was an afterthought. Before you knew it, you had typed in the number and hit the green call button.

The phone connected, but on the other side of the receiver was quiet.

"Hello?" You called out. "It's um, Cookie, from the forum." A second passed before you heard a voice from the other end.

"Ah, my little maus, so happy you've finally called."

#call of duty fanfic #könig #könig x reader #cod fanfic #könig cod #cod x reader

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hackeocafe · 1 year ago

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youtube

Raspberry Pi 5 Mastery: Create a Powerful Home Server/Home lab

Learn how to become a Raspberry Pi 5 Master. Create a Powerful Home Server/Home lab using just a Pi 4 or 5 using Docker.

#education #free education #hacking #security #Raspberry Pi 5 Mastery #Raspberry Pi 5 #Create a Powerful Home Server #How to create a Powerful Home Server #home server #windows 10 #youtube #cyber security #home lab #raspberry pi server #raspberry pi docker #raspberry pi #Youtube

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neon-kazoo · 2 months ago

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A Hero’s Guide on How to Get the Fuck Out of Town

(50% success rate!!)

Chance of survival guaranteed

So you’ve found yourself in a bit of a predicament.

Say, you accidentally caught a glimpse of your nemesis with their mask off. Maybe your nemesis caught you catching a glimpse of them with their mask off. Possibly, they have been chasing you around nonstop since, vowing to end your life the second you slip up and make a mistake. If things are really going bad for you, said villain might be the most well-connected in town with plenty of friends to help hunt you down. One of those friends might even be the mayor.

Just as an example.

Don’t you worry, this guide is here to help save the day by teaching you the foolproof method of how to run the fuck away.

That brings us to our first and most important piece of advice.

Don’t make a mistake.

Seems simple, right?

Yeah, right up until you face plant in the middle of the sidewalk and roll into oncoming traffic during a close foot pursuit.

Hypothetically, of course.

That brings us to our second, and slightly-less-important-but-still-very-relevant piece of advice.

When you do make a mistake, don’t panic.

Calmly rise to your feet and make a timely exit out of the roadway. Freezing in the left hand lane and flailing like a half-dead piece of roadkill won’t make the situation any better. In fact, it will only allow the villain to get closer and greatly increase the risk of an auto accident. You might even lose a finger or two between a tire and the asphalt.

Not that that would ever happen to you specifically, but trust me it could.

But just in case you do end up panicking, all hope is not lost. Here’s what you want to do:

Make the best of it.

Use that flailing to flag down a passing car. Get a phone and call for backup. If you stumble over your words urgently enough, the driver might even let you hitchhike. Or, if worst comes to worst, a simple carjacking might be in order. Just be sure to pay them back later.

Or don’t. Once you’re out of town, you’re going to need to stay out of town. No contact. Can’t let rectification be the reason you are found.

Speaking of being found, you might want to dump that tracker the villain put in your shoe. Throwing it out the window of the car you may-or-may-not have stolen should work.

Now, you may be more or less fingerless, but at least you’ve gained some ground. Try backroads, there’s less cameras for the villain to gain eyes on and less people around to keep an eye on. That is only, however, if you know your way around, which highlights our next point:

Know how to read a map.

Brush up on your Never Eat Soggy Waffles skills, cause you’re gonna need them. GPS can be hacked. A simple brochure map you nicked off a tourist, however, cannot. If you can hold the map right-side-up, you’re on the right track. I cannot advise against driving around in circles enough. Sure, you might confuse your enemy for a second, but ultimately it will get you no where. Literally.

Speaking of directions:

Be random.

North, South, East, or West? If you have a coin, flip it. Preferably more than once, unless your coin has four heads. Don’t head for your vacation home or your best friend’s house. That one town you planned a trip to as a project in elementary school? Absolutely not. Not even your boss’ cousin’s wife’s dog’s breeder’s childhood remote cabin. I mean random. Never heard of it? Perfect. Population of 60, bingo. Population of 10 million, also a winner. Forget logic, forget means. Just don’t be predictable.

Trust your gut.

If it looks like the gray SUV has been behind you too long, that’s not just paranoia. If you think you’re being followed, you probably are. To lose a tail, you just need to be able to do one thing:

Move like a bat out of hell.

Driving? See that pedal on the right? Step on it. Forget the brakes, red lights, pedestrians, and any signs and drive like you were taught by your blind aunt who secretly wanted you dead. Don’t worry, that thud was probably just an orange cone. Once all you see in the rear view is skid marks and destruction, feel free to lighten up on the gas. Enjoy a slight reprieve before our next tip.

Use cash.

All that running made you hungry, I get it. Your fuel tank is probably running pretty low, too. You’re going to want to stop at the sketchiest gas station you can find. I’m talking open drug deal in the parking lot here. The attendant smoking near the pumps look like they’re straight out of a wanted poster? Perfect. The least amount of questions they ask, the better.

Don’t think this makes you safe, though. Remember:

Stay suspicious.

Clerk being a little too friendly with an awkward laugh and sweat dripping off his brow? Gaze keep darting around and not in the typical high as a kite fashion? You might want to grab your mini m&m’s and run.

Relatedly:

Civilians are not your friends.

Don’t learn this the hard way. It doesn’t matter if you saved their kitten from a tree once, it only takes a wad of cash or the flash of a gun to turn somebody against you. Next thing you know, that very same clerk is pulling out a rifle from behind the counter and pointing it straight at your back. This is where our next piece of advice really pays off.

Be aware of your surroundings.

Does the pharmacy, perhaps, have mirrors angled on the wall that you can use to catch the bolt being pulled back just in time to dodge the bullet whizzing past your head? If it does, excellent. If it doesn’t…well I’d suggest you don’t turn your back on anybody. And watch out for those middle-of-the-aisle displays if you plan on walking backwards all the way out of there. Wouldn’t want to die falling on a heap of beanie babies, would you?

Don’t dilly dally.

Forget dodging, start running. Make your get away swift. Just make sure you pumped your gas first. (And don’t drive off with the nozzle in your tank, that would just be embarrassing.)

Let’s take a moment to discuss unexpected obstacles.

Your number two nemesis, let’s say: the roadblock. So maybe you were a little too loose with the rule about randomness, or maybe your villain has a doctorate in statistics. That doesn’t matter now. Now, it’s fight or flight and, quite frankly, this is not a guide on hand-to-hand combat. I have but one thing to say on the matter:

When in doubt, flee.

Now, this may be covered under no dilly dallying, but I believe it’s worth restating.

Every moment is precious.

It’s all about timely decisions. Two ways to turn and don’t know which one to pick? Allow only a split second to make the decision. A fraction could mean the difference between life and death at an intersection. Channel your inner try-hard and run in a direction like you’re a fifth-grade boy playing tag.

And at that, we finally arrive at one last piece of advice (and I fear this one may be nonnegotiable):

If the villain is waiting for you around the left corner, you might want to go right.

#Hero’s how to guide #hero/villain snippet #hero #villain #writing #original writing #hero x villain community #heroes and villains

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michaelcerascream · 2 months ago

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Javi Martinez headcannons! no crash modern day au 😞🙏

• everytime Nat and Travis go to a gas station to buy cigarettes, he begs Travis to buy him the cheap ass lollipops at the counter.

• loves diary of a wimpy kid books cuz I said so.

•has tons of those caps in every colour that he wears CONSTANTLY. his mother has to force them away from him to wash them.

• takes bad photos of Travis on his camera. like Travis would be mid - bite of some cereal and he would sneak up and snap a picture.

• everytime he gets a sticker from someplace, like school, or a doctor's office, he keeps them in a little box and waits for the perfect moment to use them. he is NOT a sticker waster.

• every party, wedding, quinceanera, he goes to that has a dancefloor, TRUST he is forcing Travis up there. once Travis has had a few drinks and actually does go up, he is literally the jolliest ever.

• he's "too old for toys" yet buys all these silly figures and stuffed animals, and when Travis confronts him and teases him about it, he retorts with "they're collectables!!"

• he loves the zoo. always makes his parents buy him the animal plushies even if they cost like 40 bucks. he has a whole pile of them at the end of his bed.

•watched the diary of a wimpy kid movie and tried to start a cheese touch at his school. failed miserably.

• once got kicked out of a sports store with Travis because Travis kicked a ball at his head on accident and he started screaming and crying.

• whenever Travis was annoyed, Javi and Nat would dance in his room until he smiled. Trust Javi always gives it his ALL.

• has an old tiktok account where he posted like funky ass videos with millennial audios from when he was like 7. he can't figure out how to delete it since he was logged out of the account. he will never show ANYBODY.

• contrary to popular belief, he would not like Fortnite. he tried to play it a few times with some of his friends, but rage quit after 10 minutes.

• minecraft warrior. Has a shared world with Travis where he always blows up his stuff.

"Javi, for fuck sake, dude!!"

and he's mischievously giggling for hours.

• also he is partial to Roblox too. one time he grinded on work at a pizza place for HOURS. he always used to role-play the hated child on meepcity...

• stole one of Travis' colognes and sprays it everytime he's going someplace nice. REFUSES to buy his own and when the one he stole from Travis is running low, he'll fill it with a teeny bit of water...endless cologne hack!!

• ate a piece of Lego once. he was trying to rip two bricks that were stuck apart, so he used his teeth and boom, swallowed a piece. he cried for hours and Travis told him it would be stuck in his stomach forever.

• everytime him and his family go to a restaurant, and they give him a kids menu, his mom forces him to eat from it, because it's cheaper, and he always gets so mad and doesn't talk for the whole meal, with a pout on his face and his arms crossed.

• car window warrior. always glancing out the window on long car rides, making up imaginary lives for everyone he sees going past. his own personal headcannons if you will.

#michaelcerascream #yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets moodboard #yellowjackets headcanons #javi yellowjackets #javi martinez #javi martinez yellowjackets #javi headcannons

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xiao-come-home · 1 year ago

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stone faced anon (💫 anon if it's free) here; as someone who has a hyperfixation in IT and coding I also think it would be very funny if Boothill had an s/o who wasn't necessarily a mechanic but like a software engineer or just a real big nerd about coding or something. He'll be experiencing a malfunction or a memory leak and go "oh yeah this happens sometimes don't worry about it" and then 10 minutes later he's sitting down plugged into a laptop listening to his s/o rant about how terrible his code is (crack hc: boothill's code was written in javascript) and how it's a wonder he hasn't bricked* yet

Would also be mad funny if Boothill ever got hacked and his s/o basically says "no you're not" and uses a previously made system restore point or something because of course they would both use and design every feature imaginable to keep Boothill in control of his own body, can you imagine the stress that losing control would cause him?? Even better if whoever designed him originally intentionally left a backdoor incase he ever went against their orders and when they try to use it his s/o just goes "oh yeah I quarantined and encrypted all the old files related to that backdoor and whatever else you were planning on a partition as bait and personally rewrote every file and function involved since your code is *an actual crime against technology*. by the way i'm going to go ahead and format that partition i mentioned, boothill- we won't be needing anything on it now that we can trace whoever made it. trust me, this won't be happening ever again."

*(bricking is a term mostly used to refer to hardware that's been rendered basically completely nonfunctional and beyond saving by using it wrong, mostly by messing with system files. Kinda like how windows can't even repair itself if you delete the system32 folder. Though i guess you could still install it with a usb stick if you formatted your pc- i digress you get what I mean. also since this almost happened to me recently: if you manage to fill up a hard drive to the brim, with literally 0 bytes of space left, that bricks it. reminder to check your storage thoroughly and often!)

Honestly wow I read it all and I'm a little bit speechless 🥹 thank you 💫 anon, it was great 🙏

Boothill would DEFINITELY appreciate a s/o who's a tech savvy in general! I think at some point, he'd be pretty shocked you're so knowledgeable and just sit there, listening to you rant.. and just letting you do your thing.

Don't get me wrong, he definitely knows a lot about his body, his system and the way he works, but once you start to get in the zone and explain stuff to him, berate his code even, he just sits next to you, plugged in to your laptop, leaning his cheek against his hand listening to you like he obviously understands everything you say.

His other hand begins to gently play with a stand of your hair, humming deeply when the soft clicking sounds of your keyboard reach his ears; he twirls your hair with his fingers and chuckles, "mmm, really now?" Boothill raises an eyebrow, "encryptin' this, encryptin' that... How about we do somethin' more fun instead?" And then you shut him down from your laptop (😭).

Jokes aside, he'd feel very secure with you especially when he first got his new body, just knowing you'll probably fix a lot of things that could possibly blow up his face in no time, maybe even improve his life even more.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill #.💫 anon #.anon thirst

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dioslesbianwife · 9 days ago

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can u do bucci gang with a reader who is like edward from cowboy bebop(platonic pliz)

sure, i've barely seen any cowboy bebop so i'm going off what i googled on this character, hope u enjoy ty for requesting

Bucciarati

Has no idea what to do with you at first.

You speak in riddles and call him “Zippity-Zap Bossman” and he just blinks.

But the moment you save the squad from an ambush using a hacked security drone and a can of ravioli, he’s like:

“Alright. They’re... unconventional. But they're family now.”

Absolutely acts like your tired dad. Tries to impose rules like “no climbing walls during breakfast,” and “no chewing on Narancia’s shoelaces.”

Giorno

Finds you fascinating. Like a particularly feral endangered species.

Watches as you scurry across the floor on all fours and babble nonsense, then five minutes later crack into a military server and disable enemy reinforcements.

“You are... unique. But very useful.” Translation: I do not understand a single thing you say, but I cherish you deeply.

Will turn a broken headset into a living butterfly just to cheer you up when you're feeling “bleepy in the head-meat.”

Mista

"What the hell is this kid’s deal- did they just hack a car using a fidget spinner and spaghetti???"

Barks at you constantly but like... you’re his goblin sibling now.

He tries to keep you out of trouble but ends up enabling you.

“Don’t eat that, it’s a bullet casing- hey, wait, are you frying it?? ...You know what, never mind. Carry on.”

You crawl into his lap like a cat and steal his food and he acts mad but secretly gives you the crusts from his sandwiches.

Abbacchio

Hates you at first. Full stop. Calls you a “little gremlin freak” to your face.

You once taped googly eyes to his wine glass. He didn’t speak to you for a week.

BUT… when you hacked into police databases to delete some of his old records, he stared at you in stunned silence and muttered:

“…Okay. You’re alright. Still weird. But alright.”

You sit next to him now with your head on his shoulder while he broods and sighs dramatically.

Fugo

This man is STRESSED.

“Why are you upside down?? Why are you humming to my textbooks??”

You once drew a smiley face in mustard on his jacket. He screamed for 10 straight seconds.

But you're also incredibly smart- and he lives for someone he can bounce weird intellectual theories off of.

Secretly loves that you call him “Brain Fruit.” Pretends he doesn’t.

Trish

At first she’s like, “I don’t do dirty little weirdos.”

Then she sees you build a 4-monitor tracking system out of trash and duct tape and goes, “Okay, that was actually kind of amazing.”

Lets you do her makeup sometimes. Even when you use glitter glue and stick googly eyes on her cheeks, she smiles and takes a selfie.

Protective older sister energy. Tries to teach you how to brush your hair. Fails. Accepts you as you are.

Narancia

IMMEDIATE BFFS.

Y’all are chaos incarnate. You feed each other weird snacks and talk in made-up languages.

“They’re just like me fr” - Narancia, two seconds before both of you fall out a window trying to catch a pigeon.

He absolutely lets you ride on his back like a backpack.

You once built him a custom speaker system shaped like a dinosaur that screams “YEAHHHHH” before it plays music. He cried tears of joy.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno giovanna #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio #narancia x reader #narancia ghirga #mista x reader #guido mista #fugo x reader #panacotta fugo #trish una x reader #trish una

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xvazx · 2 months ago

Text

The Beauty of Our Chaos

Part 6- Smile For The Camera

Prev. Part/ Next Part

I had one mission.

I slipped into the STEM building’s admin office while the secretary was in the bathroom—a risky move, but I’d timed it perfectly. The door clicked shut behind me. Heart pounding, I crossed the room in a few silent steps and crouched behind the desk.

There it was.

I plugged in my laptop and typed fast. Lines of code ran down the screen like raindrops on a window. After a few minutes and some network-jumping magic, I had control of one of the main classroom projectors.

Perfect.

No traces. No tracks. I unplugged, closed everything, and vanished like a whisper.

Mission Impossible - Complete.

I strutted into class five minutes later, dropped into my usual seat, and couldn’t stop the smug smile tugging at my lips.

“Yo chica, what’s up with that Cheshire Cat grin?” Damien asked, raising a brow.

I shrugged, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Luigi reached for something, and slid it across my desk—a drink from the campus café. My usual order.

“What’s this?” I asked, blinking at him.

“We never got that coffee. Also, consider this a thank-you for handling Missy.”

I blinked. “Wow. Thanks.”

I sipped and nearly moaned.

Thank God for caffeine and sugar.

How did he know I liked caramel syrup?

Class began. The professor launched into a dense explanation of multi-threaded algorithms, and I let my fingers hover over the keyboard.

8:00 a.m. sharp.

I hit Enter.

The projector shut off, lights dimmed, and the entire room was suddenly bathed in confusion.

A video flickered onto the screen. Static. Then a voice, distorted and masked, filled the room. A figure in a Guy Fawkes mask appeared.

“Students of UPenn,” the masked figure intoned in a distorted voice. “Your campus has been compromised. Your freedom… intercepted. Your intellect… challenged.”

I watched the room hold its collective breath. “What the hell?”

“And now…” the voice said dramatically, “prepare for the reckoning.”

BOOM.

A burst of digital glitter exploded across the screen, followed by flashing neon letters:

“DELTA NU’S HALLOWEEN COSTUME PARTY. TOMORROW 10 PM.”

Silence.

Then the screen cut back to the professor’s slideshow like nothing happened.

Every head slowly turned to me. I didn’t even blink.

The professor blinked, took off his glasses, and stared. “Did you just hack my class… to promote a sorority party?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, sir. I did.”

He paused.

“That was…” He raised his hands dramatically. “INCREDIBLE.”

Applause broke out. The entire class clapped like I’d just disarmed a bomb. Even Damien high-fived me. Luigi gave a low whistle.

“I could honestly pass you just for that V for Vendetta execution,” the professor said with a proud nod.

Class moved on in a haze of admiration. When it ended, half the guys made promises to show up to the party. I packed up my things, still riding the high, when Luigi walked beside me.

“So…” he said, “what’s your costume?”

“Highly confidential,” I said, smirking. “And you?”

“There’s a lame but safe option,” he said, looking sheepish.

“The Jonas Brothers are not lame.” i faked being offended.

“Oh God, never in a million years.”

“You mean until the year 3000?” I added with a wink.

He shook his head and was about to say something when Damien interrupted—reminding him about paint prep for the game. I was already planning to skip—until…

“Hey,” he said, suddenly hesitant. “You’ve never been to a Quackers game, have you?”

“Football?” I raised a brow. “You mean the game you mostly play with your hands?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Well… if you want to come, I’ll be there. It gets a little chaotic.”

My stomach fluttered.

“I’ll ask the girls,” I said. “We’ll see ya’ll at the gate?”

“Deal.”

THE GAME

Kaylee and I arrived at the field, Mariel bailing last-minute due to a sorority emergency, which we all knew meant “Laundry Day.”

“Oh. My. God,” Kaylee whispered as she noticed something from behind me.

“What?” I asked and turned

No es cierto. (No way)

A mob of shirtless guys, covered in blue, red and white body paint, were lined up like a Smurf army. And yes. There he was. Luigi, all in blue.

“You’re telling me if I wore a Justin Bieber shirt, I’m the crazy one,” I said outloud. “But you can walk around looking like an Avatar reject and it’s supportive?”

“We’re committed to the bit,” he said.

“Clearly,” I said. “You know that paint won’t come off in days right?”

…

We all took our seats, surrounded by half-painted boys who smelled of Gatorade and misplaced confidence. The game started. People yelled. I tried to care.

Who am I kidding? I zoned out halfway through the first quarter.

I leaned back, dissociating, letting the buzz of the crowd wash over me—until I felt eyes on me.

Luigi was looking my way again. He motioned for me to come over.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning close so I could hear.

“I don’t really watch sports,” I confessed.

“Fair,” he said. “Can you stay for halftime?”

“Don’t worry, Kaylee is having a good time and we need to get back to the house together.” I explained. “You’re stuck with me.”

He shrugged, “Not complaining.”

To be honest, he wasn’t wrong. Halftime had all my attention. They brought out the cheerleaders for some slutty routines, there was a mascot race, and we witnessed a tuba player fall and land on half the band. Nice

And of course -

💋KISS CAM💋

My stomach dropped.

I’ve seen videos of this on the internet. Mostly of embarrassing moments.

It started harmless. Sweet couples. A few awkward pairs.

Then… Damien appeared.

He looked at Kaylee, and she rolled her eyes. He turned and fake kissed one of the painted guys, prompting cheers—only to whip around and plant a real kiss on Kaylee, who shoved him so hard he nearly fell off the bleacher.

He loved it. Freak

We laughed. But then—

I saw someone in a jacket like mine. My hair. My seat. My—

“Oh no,” I muttered, covering my face. “No no no no—”

The camera zoomed.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” the crowd roared.

I peeked through my fingers.

Luigi turned to me, soft. “We don’t have to.”

I blinked, heartbeat sprinting. “I… ok.”

“You sure?” he asked again.

My brain screamed RUN. My mouth said, “Pfff—sure.”

He grinned—paint-smeared, stupidly handsome. And then—his blue painted hands stained my cheeks and his mouth met mine.

And I… I think I blacked out a little. The world stopped and all I could hear was Sixpence None The Richer on the speakers.

So much better than the dream.

Until foreign cold water hit us both.

“GET A ROOM!” someone yelled.

I stared, soaking.

“Tell me it’s just water,” I said, dripping.

Luigi winced. “You want the truth?”

“Nope. Lie to me.”

I could feel it—that awful heat crawling up my neck, across my ears, setting my face ablaze.

God, I hate blushing.

Luigi was looking at me, water dripping from his jaw, blue paint streaked down his chest like some modern art tragedy.

I couldn’t let him see how bothered I was.

“I think I should go,” I said, brushing wet strands of hair from my face, trying to sound casual. “I can’t risk getting a cold.”

“I’ll go with you,” he offered immediately, already moving like he meant it.

“It’s okay,” I cut him off, waving him back. “You’re having fun.”

“Too much fun,” he said, eyeing me up and down.

The weight of that kiss still hung in the air between us like a secret.

“Yeah… umm. I’ll go,” I muttered, flustered now, the cold and adrenaline making my thoughts skip like scratched vinyl.

He stepped forward, expression suddenly unsure. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No.” My voice cracked. I forced a laugh and regretted it instantly. “I… I wanted you to.”

His brows lifted, flattered.

“I mean—it was consensual,” I rushed out, eyes wide. “Obviously. Same page.”

What am I saying?

“See you at the party!” I blurted, already turning on my heel. “Adios” (Bye)

And then—I ran.

Literally ran. Through the crowd, across the quad, past the vendors selling UPenn merch. My heart was thudding in my ears like a war drum.

Behind me, I heard someone calling out, but I kept going.

Kaylee caught up a few moments later, breathless and slightly confused.

“What happened? That was so cute, except for the splash, obviously,” she said, breathlessly laughing.

I took a few seconds to catch my breath, trying to cool down. “I know, I just freaked out,” I explained, still a little shaken. “I started blushing.”

Kaylee smirked and wiggled her eyebrows. “Was the kiss that good?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide how much her teasing affected me.

She grinned wider. “Yes?”

“Well duh”

“Then tell him!” She poked my ribs, and I swatted her hand away.

“I don’t like that,” I said, my voice serious now.

Poking people’s ribs should be illegal.

@nosebeers @mrs-cactus69

hi i’m Vaz, this was just a product of my active imagination, free time and the need for a better outcome. Hope u enjoy xxx

Mwah… kinda short ngl.

I gotta say, I’ve only gone to a few sport games before. Yikes

#luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione x latina reader #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn

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