#i think both sides need to have their routers shut off and to go into the wilderness for 4 years to think really really hard about it all

[dyketubbo]

just bitching in the tags a bit to get feelings out

[obeymeluv]

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc. 

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content. 

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts: 

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you. 

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates). 

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking). 

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy. 

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything. 

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair. 

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings. 

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree. 

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable. 

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

[neonponders]

*sigh* ..... Nobody’s surprised here lol I require very little enabling.

Here’s part 1 of this lil mafia_au ✨ @lovebillyhargrove 💗

This got out of hand quickly orz but I’ll hold onto this for a later time 🔥

And to answer your question.....yes, I do write smut 😘

Billy made Steve cum four times.

Four.

He couldn’t believe it. Once, standing up in his towel with Billy massaging his groin, and twice more while he opened him up. Steve knew he was pent up, but...this was something else.

Billy yanked the towel to fall to the floor and walked him backward into the bedroom, shedding Steve of his t-shirt. Then he spread Steve wide and licked inside his ass. Steve couldn’t really say if the next orgasm was normal, dry, or just a pleasurable spike from being overwhelmed from Billy’s fingers tickling deeper than he thought possible.

Some lingering brain cell chirped at him and he carefully turned over to start crawling over the bed toward the side drawer. He managed to get his fingertips on the brass handle before Billy laid on top of him, flush with his pants open. Steve’s cock kicked to full eagerness at the sensation of Billy behind him, soft skin and strong muscle.

His arm followed up Steve’s to the drawer, where he withdrew the lube. Steve flushed from embarrassment that he gasped against Billy saying into his hair, “I’ll take care of you.”

Steve could only manage, “Condoms?”

“I’m clean. You?”

Steve blinked, lust making his head heavy until he released his weight onto the mattress. “I think so. I haven’t checked.”

The sound of the bottle cap behind and above him. “We’ll get you checked if you want, baby. Lift your ass for me.”

He sluggishly moved his elbows underneath him to do so, but then his voice escaped with his surprise at Billy hefting his pelvis up. “Breathe for me. Let me hear you.”

Steve let his torso recline like a ramp up to where Billy began to push inside. As much as the stretch made Steve’s jaw intermittently go slack and clench, the little, repeated pushes against his prostate made him see stars. The way Billy pulled him back and pushed inside him with a steadily increasing pace...Steve had never just let go before. Was usually entirely devoted to making sure his partner got everything they wanted and needed.

Billy used him and it felt great. To reach behind him for Billy’s hip when he arrived at the pace that ramped up Steve’s panted whines. The soft moan Billy made when Steve pushed against him with stuttering pulses, so close, so so

Steve’s nails bit into Billy’s hip, silently begging him to stay put as he bucked against him, the two at a clumsy impasse as Billy tried to fuck him through it and Steve’s short thrusts negated his efforts but made wet slaps fill the small room.

“Hahh!” Steve exclaimed when Billy’s arm came around his front and he moved them further up the bed. His other hand pressed into the mattress beside Steve’s head. He loosely held onto Billy’s wrist as the man took his pleasure from Steve. The way he just handled Steve into position...

“What?” he grunted breathily above him when Steve laughed. Something twirled in Steve’s belly at how mutually wrecked he sounded.

“Nothing. I just like this.”

Billy came with two more stuttering thrusts that pushed his hips tightly against Steve’s ass. He didn’t know what to expect afterwards, and he was too fucked out and tired to care much. But Billy landed beside him and rolled Steve over to spoon his backside and feel that silk shirt against his skin.

Maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later, Steve felt Billy easing his thigh up to slot himself inside again. The angle shoved a gasp right out of him, but where before had been fast, Billy took his time now. Relishing each shiver that his nose and mouth caused behind Steve’s ear and on the side of his neck. The moan he got when he slid his hand down the inside of Steve’s thigh, easing it over his own leg to open Steve up further.

When his hand finally closed around Steve’s erection, Steve’s hand overlapped it, guiding him to what he needed. Billy came first this time, but he stayed inside and pumped Steve to his finish.

His last remotely cognizant thought went into noticing how Billy lifted his covers over their bodies as he slipped into slumber.

He shouldn’t have been able to wake up from the little shuffles and belt tinkering after the sun had risen, but Steve opened his eyes to see Billy adjusting his clothes in his closet door mirror.

“Do a turn.”

Billy perked up and looked back at him. He smiled like he’d been caught at something. “What?”

Steve gazed at him as much as he could from where his face was smushed against the pillow. He twirled a finger in the air. “Do a turn.”

Billy laughed softly, and...that was nice. He looked sweet when he smiled. It made a weight land in Steve’s belly, but a pleasant weight. It was even nicer how he held his arms out and rotated for Steve to see all of him. The silk shirt that was a dark, dark green; made the pink of his cheeks and lips pop. The black slacks around thick thighs...Steve wouldn’t mind having those wrapped around him.

“Gorgeous.”

Billy grinned through another laugh and let his arms fall back to his sides. He approached the bed and Steve’s eyes closed against the hand combing through his hairline. “What’s your shift today?”

“Closing,” he exhaled, his voice light with sleep.

He cooed a sound when Billy kissed his temple. “I’ll see you later.”

He hummed two more sounds like, Oh-kay.

Steve didn’t go to work.

His alarm when off, he stood up, and then fell back into bed while reaching for his phone to call his manager and use one of his sick days. Considering the tip he got last night, he could certainly afford a day off.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised, come dinner time, that a knock came at the door. Steve hauled his whole comforter with him to the door, where Billy immediately looked him over and stepped inside. “I went to the restaurant to see you. What’s wrong?”

Steve chuckled a little through, “Nothing’s wrong. I just called in sick.”

Billy lifted his gaze from the plush turtle shell around him. “You were fine this morn - ”

“I’m sore, Billy,” he droned and began to shuffle his way back to his room, perfectly content with the blunt look of surprise on the man’s face. For good measure, he sassed, “Coulda left me an ice pack.”

He head Billy shut the door for him and then the same rustle and twinkle he’d heard this morning, only in reverse as he undressed. He put his clothes on the couch until he wore just his briefs and tank top. Steve’s eyes followed him from the bed, because even those were a look. The man couldn’t do anything without a couple hundred dollars on his body.

He brought an ibuprofen and a tall glass of water to the bed. Steve had already taken one, but it had been some hours ago.

“Have you eaten?”

He nodded while gulping water. “Lunch.”

He left the bedroom again and Steve heard him talking on the phone about what sounded like Chinese food. He only paused to lean in and ask, “Steve?”

His bedhead lifted up, just eyes, nose, and hair above his mound of comforter. Billy laughed, “What sides do you want?”

“Crab rangoons,” he returned easily.

When he finished, Billy climbed into bed with, “Come here,” and Steve eased his way onto his chest. He lent some of the comforter over Billy’s legs.

It was nice. Really nice.

By the time the food got there, Steve could sit properly again and Billy respected Steve’s choice in watching Netflix anime on the laptop on the end of the bed.

It was nice. All of it went incredibly well considering Steve didn’t know Billy’s last name. And frankly, he didn’t feel confident enough to ask. Even if Billy filled up every spare minute he had with holding Steve’s body against his chest, pushing Steve’s hair behind his ear, kissing him until Steve didn’t know his own name - even if it was just for a glorious weekend

He was fine with it. Because Steve wanted to be wanted. And Billy unashamedly desired him.

Steve did manage to ask him if the phone number included with his tip was Billy’s. He took the small slip of paper from Steve and wondered, “Who did you think it was from?”

“I didn’t handle your tab,” Steve defended while their legs were tangle together and the room still smelled of sweet and sour sauce. “I didn’t handle anyone’s, and there were like, fifteen people in your party.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Do you often get numbers tucked in the receipt folder?”

“No,” Steve scoffed while rubbing behind his ear. “I did get a tiny baggie of cocaine once.”

“Someone thought tipping the waiter with blow would be fine? Wow. Did you try it?”

“It could’ve been powdered sugar, for all I knew. I didn’t keep it. I’ll stick to downers like classic THC.”

Billy smiled and Billy laughed. Sometimes he just touched Steve like he was curious, or...checking like he was really there. A finger under his chin. A nose turning into his hair and deeply inhaling. Sometimes he touched Steve’s leg so he looked at him, but when Steve asked what he wanted to say or ask, Billy just shook his head. Like he just wanted Steve’s eyes and attention on him.

Steve really should’ve expected the gifts.

First came the flatscreen television. The men who installed it were generous enough to provide the HDMI cable to connect his laptop to it.

Then came a new internet router.

And Billy started picking Steve up to take him to work. The first time was sweet and a pleasant surprise. Billy drove a luxurious car that looked demure on the outside but boasted upholstery that smelled expensive and the entire dash glowed with neon, indigo lining. He reeled Steve over the center console to kiss him before his shift.

“You’re dating either a criminal, or an heir to something,” Robin declared when Steve met up with her on his day off. Her words were tight due to the sheet mask on both of their faces. Steve folded his up so he could slurp on a Sprite can.

“I haven’t seen any security force, though? Shouldn’t a guy like that have a bouncer with him or a portable secretary everywhere he goes?”

Robin scoffed, “A portable - you mean a personal assistant? I don’t know, probably. Just because you haven’t seen one doesn’t mean he hasn’t got one or six. Make sure he knows I don’t get wet for dinguses.”

“You know, I never needed that,” he grimaced.

What did come as a surprise, though, is that Billy never initiated sex again after that first night. He and Billy kept rather busy schedules despite how often Billy walked into Steve’s life, but he couldn’t help but wonder what Billy’s motivations were. Maybe he just wanted to take it slow for the sake of Steve’s body. Maybe he realized Steve was a sap who could stick around for longer than a week.

He stopped wondering after an accident happened at the restaurant. Steve always did have a talent for landing himself right at the apex of one problem intersecting another problem.

A wine glass fell on the floor - nothing extraordinary - and someone bumped into him as he bent to collect the bigger pieces. His hand caught right on the upright, jagged stem of the glass. Yeah, it hurt like stepping into an oyster bed, but Steve carefully pulled the stem out of his hand and used one of the chef’s gloves over cotton and gauze to finish his shift.

Billy picked him up.

Steve knew what his car looked like now, and clearly Billy wasn’t taking chances on anybody else picking him up -

He leaned on the car as Steve approached, but he stepped off to stride right to him and lifted up his hand by the wrist. Steve’s mouth opened to speak, but no words came. He’d never seen Billy angry before.

The dagger hovered in Steve’s belly.

“What. Happened.”

“It was just an accident,” Steve tried to say, but his voice didn’t fully back him up. Billy’s grip tightened on his wrist. Steve tried again, insisted, “It was an accident, Billy. Someone dropped their glass. It happens all the time. I’m fine. Can we go?”

He couldn’t say what actually made Billy turn around and open the car door for him. But he didn’t take Steve back to his apartment. Or the Emergency Room. Billy didn’t talk during the drive. Steve didn’t know where he was going after Billy parked in a parking garage and he cradled his hand in an elevator that just kept going up.

“My place,” Billy finally said as the doors opened.

Criminal. Definitely a criminal, Steve’s brain declared as he slowly stepped inside the suite that the elevator opened directly into. He left his shoes by the elevator, not daring a speck of dirt on the marble foyer hallway or the carpeting beyond that.

He looked left. He looked right. The suite kept going on either side, like it was meant for a family of eight.

“Come here.”

Steve obeyed and sat on the crushed velvet couch. Billy set a phone down on its receiver. Steve hadn’t heard him say anything into it, but Billy went through a door while he removed his coat. Steve assumed it to be the bedroom. Or a massive closet. He stayed put where he was, petting the couch one way, making the threads look black, and then the other, glistening sapphire blue.

In a matter of minutes, the elevator doors opened again. Steve stood up but Billy reappeared and waved him back down. He was beginning to feel like a trained dog at this point.

“Dr. Owens. Thanks for coming up.”

“Always an obligation, Mr. Hargrove,” came the reply in the foyer.

Hargrove?

“Ah, are you the one?”

Steve’s mouth opened, but what came out was, “There’s only one of me.”

All three of them seemed to be mildly confused and disappointed in that sentence, but they each let it slide. Owens nodded at his bandaged hand. “Would you mind explaining your injury to me?”

He did while Billy sat on the other couch, knees crossed and a hand wandering his mouth. Brooding.

Owens began to look through the case he brought with him. It opened like a makeup kit, with three tiers that opened like stairs with medicine supplies. “I’m going to do some minor injections to numb your hand. Then I’ll need to look around for any lingering glass.”

“What if I’m afraid of needles?”

“You’re going to be more afraid of an infection caused by glass in the hand. If an infection gets entwined far enough with the metacarpals, it’s nearly impossible to clean it out. Hands and feet are the worst places to get injured.”

Steve’s shoulders drooped an inch. “Great.”

He felt and smelled Owens moving an alcohol swab all over his hand, but he otherwise kept his gaze elsewhere during the injections.

Of course he’d have to feel the first two or three.

Billy entered his vision, sitting next to him and curving Steve’s arm around his own, locking Steve to him. Steve’s vision couldn’t quite focus on him. Everything had a blurry edge.

“Lean back.”

The notion didn’t sound great. “I’ll vomit.”

“Then lean into me.”

That proved...more manageable. Billy held firm with Steve’s weight falling into him. He wore a blue shirt today. Just a nice, soft and mundane long-sleeve. He matched the couch. His hair had already grown out past the fade, too. Softly fuzzy against Steve’s face...

“Tell me what happened.”

Steve’s brain didn’t want to cooperate, and with each word he pushed out, confusion intertwined the cogs in his mind. “The...glass. Wine glass. I work in a restaurant - ”

His head lifted to look at him. “You don’t believe me?”

“I want to make sure.”

Steve stared at him. “What? That I can keep a story straight while trying not to pass out or vomit?”

“Keep your hand still,” Owens droned. Steve felt his dull hold on his wrist, and the distantly sharp exploration through his palm.

Billy didn’t respond, and Steve didn’t say anything else until Owens had finished. He rattled a small glass vial, two bloody pieces dancing around in it. “I’ll let you keep these unless you want me to dispose them?”

“I love souvenirs,” Steve remarked.

Owens looked just as pleased to be out of there as Billy looked unhappy at being left alone with Steve. The color had returned to his face while Owens wrapped up his hand, and now Billy paced his living room.

“Am I allowed to leave?” Steve asked the same time Billy said, “Want the tour?”

Billy frowned. “Do you want to?”

With his unharmed hand, Steve rubbed his face. “I don’t actually like staying up until four in the morning.”

Steve didn’t get the tour.

Billy drove him back to his apartment. He didn’t stay, but he said before leaving, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

It didn’t occur until Steve’s head was hitting the pillow that he didn’t have work tomorrow. What could Billy possibly be picking him up for?

So Steve made sure he wasn’t home.

Yes, it’s petty.

Yes, Robin called him a moron one the phone while he strolled through the park.

“You’re gonna die because you refused some rich douche bag’s date.”

“I am not going to die,” he refuted. “I’m just going - ”

“To explain why.”

He startled away from Billy walking beside him, causing the pebbles paving the walkway to go flying. “Steve?” Robin said in his ear.

“I’ll call you later.”

Billy didn’t look nearly as lethal as the night before, but he certainly wasn’t strolling through Disney World. “Why weren’t you at your apartment?”

Steve had a tendency to panic when overwhelmed, all right? He’d reached his limit and exploded, “I don’t know! Because you didn’t say why or when? Because I’m not one of your poodles? I’m a person who’s allowed to live their life like - like - normal?”

Billy blinked at him, his brows lifting until he said incredulously, “Poodles?”

“A trained dog! You know what I mean.” Steve waved his injured hand for emphasis and grimaced for it. “You’re suspicious as hell. Don’t think I’ll do anything you ask just because the sex was good - great. Whatever.”

A smirk began to warm Billy’s features. “Poodles.”

Steve’s hair bobbed over his face as he nodded. “Yeah? My aunt had two of ‘em. They were assholes. What are you not getting here?”

Billy laughed a little and, as he stepped close to him, Steve began to wonder if the park was...emptier, than it usually was on a Friday.

“You’re prettier than a poodle. And more disobedient than I ever tolerate, Steve.”

He tried to steel his jaw, but Steve had long since given up adolescent charades of hauteur. He shrugged, “What does that mean? You want your TV and router back? Are you going to sabotage my health insurance if I say no?”

Billy’s eyes lolled under a slow blink. “I’m not revoking your health insurance.”

Steve’s shoes touched Billy’s even though they had the space of the whole park. “Then what are we doing? I’m just some nobody. You’re clearly a somebody.”

“You’re not a nobody to me,” Billy finished, his breath tickling Steve’s lips. “I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.”

“Bossing me around isn’t going to end well for either of us. Especially if you can’t even believe me when I’m injured at work with an audience to vouch for - ”

Billy kissed him, but it wasn’t a hard, silencing kiss. It was one of Billy’s little touches. His cravings. To touch Steve. To share his air.

Steve’s brows furrowed and a conflicted moan hummed in his throat. His unharmed hand found Billy’s chest, and the latter took it as his cue to lace his fingers behind Steve’s back.

He’d barely broken the kiss before he started to say, “What we’re doing, is going to my car. You’re going to let me taste your dick behind my tinted windows because I’m done being considerate. Then we’ll go back to my place. I’ll give you the tour, and you’ll choose which room we fuck in first.”

Steve’s eyes ached with lust and how long he’d held them open. He gulped dryly. “This was an inconclusive argument.”

Billy smiled and turned them both to continue along out of the park.

[darthkruge]

Hi! I've seen that in your recent post you've been trying to make characters more gender neutral which I think is awesome! I'm gonna try and make my request gender neutral as well! I was wondering if you could do a criminal minds imagine (I'll let you choose the character that you wanna write it for cus I love Morgan, Hotch, and Reid equally) where the reader was taken by the unsub but they found her right before the unsub tried to (tw) k!ll the reader. If possible can the end be kinda fluffy♡

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Maybe

Summary: The classic kidnapping fic where the reader is taken by the unsub and Spencer finds them. Fluffy, comfort-filled ending <3

Warnings: Angst, language, violence, blood, guns, knives, torture, near-death experience, kidnapping in general, (happy ending I promise)

Words: 2.2k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me for taking so long to get to this!! And thank you for making your request gender neutral, too! That’s so thoughtful and sweet! And I decided to go with Spencer, although I also love them all. And yes the end will definitely be fluffy, as the angst with a happy/fluffy ending is basically my brand at this part. Thank you for requesting and, again, I’m so sorry for making you wait, I hope you like this!

You woke up and could only register pain. Well, pain and cold. Mind numbing, cuts to your bones, pierces your brain, cold. You tried to look around and get a sense of your surroundings but it was so dark; you could barely make out the shadows in the room, let alone any defining details.  

Judging by the old, dirty smell, you guessed you were in a barn or shed somewhere. You had no idea where; the asshole must have knocked you out. You’d been working the case for weeks. The team thought they found some DNA and were tailing the guy, but it didn’t pan out and, since then, the trail had basically been cold. But then you finally figured out what number to trace, cracked his encoded router, and got a license plate and ID. George Craig. On your way to tell the team, he had messed with your car and was able to jump you. Fuck, you hated him. 

Even so, you refused to give up. You had faith in your team and, most of all, you had faith in Spencer. Your brilliant, gorgeous boyfriend. You loved him more than anything and there was no one in the world you’d want on the case more than him. You knew the team was already looking for you, as it was only 10am when he got you and it was probably at least 7pm now, judging by the temperature and darkness. 

You tried to move your arms but your shoulders screamed in protest. You felt the chains around your legs and the handcuffs binding you to a pole above you. Judging from the pain, your shoulder was almost definitely dislocated. You were sitting at an awkward angle and could already feel your joints tightening. The frigid air definitely wasn’t helping, making your muscles contract and body stiff. 

“Hello, Agent L/N”

Your entire body stilled at that moment, sheer panic running through your veins. Stay calm, Y/N, stay calm. You tried to will air into your lungs, forcing deep breaths even though the terror was screaming at you to close up. You knew this man fed on fear and, thus, your best chance of survival was to pretend you were unphased. Even so, the logic felt severely discomforting with him standing above you, knife and gun in hand. 

“George. What the fuck do you want from me?” Your voice was venomous, the pure hate for him clearly pictured on your face. You decided that if an emotion was going to show, you preferred hate to fear. 

“My, my, my, look at you! I thought you were supposed to be smart. Or is that trait left for your boyfriend. Agent Reid, was it?”

Your blood ran cold. “Leave him out of this.”

“Ohhh, looks like I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I?” The man had a horrifying smirk on his face, clearly enjoying your struggle. 

You glared at him. “You never answered my question”

“Oh, yes!” George chuckled, “What the fuck do you want from me?” He said, mimicking your voice mockingly. “To kill you, of course. To take you away from Spencer, from the team. To make them feel the pain of losing someone, just like I lost-” 

He trailed off and you saw his eyes burn with anger. And under that anger, you knew there was pain. Even so, you couldn’t feel bad for this man, regardless of who he’d lost. You knew that at the slightest hint of your empathy, he’d take advantage of it and kill you on the spot. 

“You know what? Death would be too easy for you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery. Then, and only then, will I shoot you. I will watch the blood run out of the bullet hole and smile, knowing the pain I caused you and your precious team.”

You wanted to cry, the fear pulling at you. Once again, you pushed it down and channeled your rage. Rage because you were in this situation. Rage because this man had ended so many lives. Rage because you were powerless right now. Rage because holy fuck your shoulder hurt. Gathering the fury, you spat at him. 

George’s mouth twisted into a sneer as he brought his leg up and slammed it into your chest. You heaved, the wind knocked out of you. Before you could grasp the air you so desperately needed, George kicked you again. And again. And again. You could feel the bruises forming, your ribs throbbing painfully.

He pulled his fist up and pummeled it into your cheek. Your left cheekbone busted open on impact and your lip split as he backhanded the other side of your face. He slammed the butt of his gun into your temple and your vision swayed, body crumpling as far in on itself as it could, given the restraints. 

He kicked at your legs repeatedly, both of them twisting at painful angles. You felt yourself start to black out, the pain unbearable. Every inch of your skin was ablaze, every muscle felt like it had been sledgehammered. Your bones ached, your body numb from his onslaught, the freezing cold, and the restrictive bonds you’d been in for hours. 

Finally, he took a moment to stop. He looked at you, at your barely conscious and recognizable state. You were beaten to a pulp, your face and body bloodied and broken. You could feel yourself wanting to give in but forced yourself to stay. For yourself, for Spencer, for the team. For that future you always talked about with him. For the house you were saving for, for the dogs and cats and animals you might one day get. For the family you might decide to have. For the idea of peace, you fought. 

George picked up the gun and pointed it at your head. A shot rang free and you braced yourself, a single tear running down your cheek as you realized you would never see your love again. Your ears rang and you felt like time had slowed. You knew the bullet would hit you. Until-

“Y/N, Y/N!” Your name was being called, the gentle yet panicked voice cutting through the ringing in your head. You tentatively opened your eyes and saw George’s body on the floor, blood oozing out of him. You slowly moved your eyes around, trying to take in your surroundings. 

Everything was overwhelming. Nothing was registering properly in your brain. It was just sounds filtering in an out, vision flickering. You felt like you were floating through the ringing in your ears. Tears ran down your cheeks as you shook. You didn’t know why you were shaking. The cold. The shock, you reasoned. Both seemed likely. It was like there was an overwhelming sense of calm. Your body was shutting down. Somehow, this gave you understanding. 

You felt the handcuffs around your wrists release and your arms dropped limply. You knew you should feel pain from your dislocated shoulder but, instead, you just let your eyes closed and felt your body fall. The last thing you remembered was coming into contact with a Kevlar vest, messy brown hair, and a familiar sense of warmth. 

When you awoke, you felt yourself being gently jostled. Your eyes slowly opened and you took in him. Spencer was looking at you, concern evident on his features.

“Hi.” You said, voice hoarse. 

“Hi, angel. Let’s get you inside, alright?”

You nodded, allowing him to help support your weight as you stepped out of the car. You leaned heavily into him, your legs badly injured. Spencer wrapped his arm snug around your waist as the two of you slowly but surely made it into your shared apartment. 

He helped you sit on the couch before moving to join you. 

“I’m surprised they let you take me home. I thought I’d wake up in a hospital, for sure.”

“They did take you there, love. You were at the hospital for a few hours but you were in and out of consciousness. You’ll heal, don’t worry. A few broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, severe bruising, sprains on your legs and ankles.”

“Plus a busted face” You add drily.

 Spencer wasn’t amused by your attempt at sarcasm. Instead, he just pushed your hair behind your ear and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have gotten there sooner, I should have been with you! If I was there, if I was quicker-”

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself for this! No one could have known. Besides, you saved me. And I’m not just talking about that in the literal sense. When he was beating me, when I was broken down, I thought of you.  I thought of our future, our dream. Holding onto that is the only reason I didn’t give up.”

Spencer’s eyes were filled with tears as he went to gently cup your face. He couldn’t find the words to express the love and relief he felt. “I’m just glad you’re back in my arms” 

You moved to hug him but winced. Even though the doctors had patched you up pretty well, the soreness and pain lingered and probably would continue like that for at least the next couple of days. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s go to bed. I think you’ll feel better once you lay down, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You followed him into the room, holding his hand the entire time. Spencer noticed but didn’t mind, he knew you were just looking for comfort, exceedingly normal for what you’d just gone through. 

You laid down, settling against the pillows and fluffy blankets Spencer had prepared for you. 

“Do you need anything, baby?”

“Water?”

“Of course.” He smiled at you before moving to get up but you quickly grabbed his hand, panic overtaking you at the thought of being alone. You looked at him helplessly, hoping your gaze would convey the words that died on your tongue. 

Spencer nodded knowingly. He helped you out of bed, pulling you along with him as the two of you went to the kitchen. He wordlessly got you the drink, making sure to keep touching you the entire way. Finally, you made it back and the both of you crawled into bed. You laid on your uninjured shoulder, placing your cheek on Spencer’s chest. His arm came around you, holding you to him and drawing soothing circles into your skin. 

You closed your eyes and were immediately sent back to the shed. You tensed, pulling back. Spencer caught on and looked deeply into your eyes. “You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t get to you anymore.”

“I know. Rationally, I know. But my brain won’t shut off. It’s like, whenever I’m not actively thinking about something else or looking at something else or hearing something else, it just comes back. Spence, I can’t- I can’t sleep. I just, I’m sure it’ll come back to me tonight.” Your voice broke, tears spilling onto your cheeks. “I don’t think I can handle reliving it and I’m so fucking exhausted. But I can’t rest because I can’t escape the nightmares.”

Spencer wanted so badly to comfort you but didn’t know what he could do. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take the pain away. He wished he could put the trauma onto himself but, unfortunately, he was powerless. Thus, he offered understanding. He gave validation. He gave kindness and pure, nonjudgmental love. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m here for you and I know that doesn’t do much right now but I am. I’ll be here when the nightmares come and I’ll be here when the flashbacks try and drag you under. I’ll be here when the trauma starts to fade but suddenly reappears and I’ll be here 20 years from now, when the memory will still be real and painful but not all-consuming. I’ll be here forever, I’ll be here always. Please, tell me what to do to help you.” Spencer begged, hoping beyond all hope that there was something he could do to ease your suffering.

“Read to me?”

“Wha- what?”

“Read to me.” You repeated, more assured this time. “I’m thinking that if I can hear your voice, maybe it’ll drown out my brain. Or something. I don’t know. I just want to hear your voice, it’s soothing. Please?”

Spencer was taken aback. He didn’t think something so simple could help you. He didn’t know his sheer presence brought you that much serenity. “Yeah, of course. Of course! Yeah, any preference?”

“Not really. Whatever’s here?”

“Okay, love.” Spencer picked up his current read and began in the middle. You felt the rumble of his chest, the vibrations of his voice and felt more at ease. The anxiety was still there, the panic never far away. And yet, curled into him, his breath tickling your ear, his body warming yours, it suddenly felt alright. Like maybe you hadn’t gone through some life-altering trauma. Or maybe you had but your life wasn’t over because of it. Maybe you’d heal. Maybe, if you could find a moment of peace now, you’d find more later. Maybe? Yeah, You thought. You could work with maybe.

--

i just made a taglist so if you want to join, go ahead!

tags: 

@saltybreaddream

[twomoonstwosuns]

friends.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, sweet fluff for the entire thing, age gap (reader over 18)

word count: 4.0k

a/n: feeling kinda meh about this chapter, i apologize if it’s not my best. enjoy the fluff, because we’re about to dive into some drama.

*updated masterlist with info about the number of remaining chapters! (but give me like 10 minutes so I can find the post and link things)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Is the Wi-Fi working for you?”

Poe looked up from his computer when you didn’t answer. Your head was propped up against your hand as you stared at the screen. “Y/N?”

You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the screen. “Sorry, what?”

He gave you a humorous smile. “Are you connected to the Wi-Fi?”

You glanced down at the bars at the top of your screen. “Um…oh, I guess not.”

Poe got up from the table to reset the router. You leaned back in your chair, head hanging over the back so your hair cascaded down the back of it, and groaned quietly. It was a late Sunday afternoon and you were sitting at Poe’s kitchen table doing homework. He had his computer open too, though you weren’t entirely sure what he was doing. A comfortable silence accompanied by soft music fell over you, interrupted only by the clacking of the keyboard. Beebs was off being Beebs. He had been bouncing between you and Poe, demanding attention until you finally caved. After a game of fetch with the purple dragon you bought for him that allowed you to procrastinate for all of two minutes, Beebs trotted off towards Poe’s bedroom to chew on his new favorite toy. Then you were stuck working again. You were quickly losing the will to concentrate, your head throbbing with exhaustion.

“What’s eatin’ you?” You lifted your head to see Poe back in his spot, arms crossed over his chest and an observant look on his face.

“This business marketing paper. The boring part of marketing,” you said, shutting your computer and pushing it away from you. “I need a break. What’re you working on?”

Poe just sighed heavily. You walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and peering at his laptop. There were multiple documents and webpages up.

“What’s eating you?”

Poe looked stressed. He grabbed your hand, bringing you around to perch on his lap. Your arm rested around his neck as his went around your waist to secure you in place.

“I’m…looking at Snoke’s dissertations, his research, the department head job…anything to give me an advantage.”

“Any word on when the interview is?”

“Not yet, but I got the names of some of the people interviewing for the position.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Armitage Hux?”

You narrowed your eyes as you thought. The name sounded familiar so you figured he was someone who taught at the university, but you didn’t know him personally. “I think I’ve heard the name before. If he’s a professor here, I haven’t had him.”

“Consider yourself lucky. He’s a pretentious jackass who thinks he’s above everyone else. Takes after Snoke.”

“Tell me how you really feel about him,” Poe snickered and gave your waist a squeeze. “Well, you’re the complete opposite of him, so I’d say that’s an advantage already. If there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know.”

Poe rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Resting your head against his, you ran your hand through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me fall asleep,” he said, leaning into your touch. You smiled at the pet name, a warm feeling settling in your chest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Poe rested his head on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling your collarbone. You continued running your fingers through his hair, a content groan coming from him as he completely relaxed. Moments like these were few and far between and greatly cherished, when you could just relax in each other’s embrace. There was no sneaking around, no pretending like you weren’t a couple in a room full of people. You could just be together.

Beebs suddenly barked loudly from Poe’s bedroom, startling the both of you out of your peaceful state. You looked towards the noise. “What’s gotten into him?”

Poe reluctantly unwound his arms from your waist, looking towards the room as Beebs’ barks turned to huffs.

“Maybe he found a mouse,” Poe said, smirking when you glared at him.

“That’s not funny!” You yelled after him.

A loud knock on the door startled you again. You could hear Poe talking to Beebs, which meant he hadn’t heard the door. You tiptoed over to the door to peak through the peephole when you heard a loud, booming voice.

“Poe Dameron, I know you’re alive in there!”

Yanking the door open, you immediately recognized the man and woman on the other side, but their faces showed confusion as they looked at you.

“You are not Poe,” the man said with a joking tone to his voice. You laughed.

“No, but I know you,” you pointed between the two visitors. “You’re Finn, and you’re Rey.” You recognized them from the pictures Poe had around his apartment and on his office desk.

“Is Poe here?” Rey asked kindly, and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god, yeah, I’m sorry.” You stood aside, letting them in. “Poe!”

Poe came out of his room with Beebs hot on his heels and you saw his face light up when he saw Finn.

“Buddy!” He engulfed Finn in a giant hug, patting him on the back. It had been far too long since they’d seen each other, and the reunion of two best friends made you smile. “What’re you doing here?!”

“I’m on leave for two weeks, had to come say hi. And I managed to steal Peanut from Florida for a few days.”

Poe found Rey from over Finn’s shoulder and grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her from the ground. They both leaned down to say hi to Beebs, the happy dog hungry for their affection, as he laid on the ground with his belly open for scratches.

“Guys,” Poe beckoned you over to him. “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is—“

“Finn and Rey, I know,” you smiled, shaking both of his friends’ hands. “It’s so great to meet you, I’ve heard so many good things about the both of you.”

“Oh god, now I have to know what he said.” Finn joked. “Are you sticking around a bit longer?”

You grabbed the phone out of your pocket and grimaced at the time. “Another time, I actually have to head out.”

Beebs grabbed Finn and Rey’s attention once again, showing off a toy in hopes they’d play with him.

“You know you can stay, right?” Poe questioned quietly as you packed up your belongings.

“I know, but Karé’s expecting me home to help her study and if I’m not there soon, she will kill me,” you explained, really wishing you hadn’t made the promise to your friend so you could stay. “Besides, it’s not everyday you get a surprise visit from your best friends. You haven’t seen them in months; you need to catch up with them. I’ll see you later.”

Poe smiled appreciatively and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. You whispered a goodbye to him before politely waving to Finn and Rey.

“So that’s your girl, huh?” Rey asked as the front door clicked shut, elbowing Poe in the ribs and wiggling her eyebrows. Poe looked from the door to his friends and back, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

》 》 》

The nerves were back in your belly.

Finn and Rey still wanted to get to know you, so they suggested drinks. This felt as big as meeting the parents. Finn and Rey were important and if they didn’t like you…you didn’t want to think about it.

You drove over to Poe’s apartment and he intercepted you before you could head inside, instead getting into his waiting car. Your phone rang and you pressed a finger to your lips as Poe opened his mouth to say hi.

“Hi, mom.”

“You will never guess who’s back in town.”

“I know Ben is, but who else?”

“Ben told you, good! Well his father’s back, too. They want to know if we want to have dinner with them and his mother, and they want you and Tallie to come too. Are you available Wednesday night?”

“You’re going to make me drive an hour home just for that?”

“Please, honey? They really want to see you. If it’ll get you here, I’ll pay for your gas.”

You threw your head back against the seat of the car, groaning inaudibly in discontent.

“If it’ll make you happy, fine. But you’re paying me back for gas.”

“Thank you, honey. I’ll let them know and I’ll text you when we settle on a time and place.”

“Sounds good, unfortunately I gotta go, I’m actually a little busy right now.”

Bidding your mother goodbye, you hung up and tossed your phone into your bag. Poe raised his eyebrows. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, apparently I get to drive all the way home to go out to dinner with some family friends who just got back to town,” you said, still confused as to why it was so imperative that you attend. “So…we’re not going inside?”

“Finn found a place an hour away. He figured we might like that since we’re always at my apartment.”

“Wow,” you said softly, awed at the sweetness of the gesture of someone who was still practically a stranger. “That’s so nice of him.”

“He likes you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“I’ve told him enough.”

“Oh yeah? What have you told him about me?”

“All the good stuff. Like how you snore.”

“I do not!” You swatted his arm. Poe grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and kissing your knuckles. He didn’t let go for the entire hour-long drive.

When you got to the bar, Poe grabbed your hand outside of the car and kissed you in the parking lot. Because there was no one around who could tell on you.  

Finn and Rey had already arrived, commandeering a booth in the corner that wasn’t hiding from the action in the bar but a little out of the way to ensure some privacy. You sat down nervously as Finn joined Poe at the bar to get drinks.

“Can I just clarify something before Poe comes back?” You blurted as soon as Rey opened her mouth to speak. She nodded. “I’m not using Poe to get a good grade or whatever.”

“Relax,” Rey laughed. You blushed, muttering an apology and wondering where Poe was with drinks. “We never thought you were. Poe’s told us enough where we never even considered it.”

You felt your shoulders relax. “Ok, now I have to know what he said.”

Rey eyed the guys coming back to the table and gave you a look that said you’d talk about it later. You took a long swig of your beer, bursting into giggles with Rey at the reason why. Poe shook his head.

“Do I want to know?” He asked as he put his arm around the back of the booth and you shook your head as you patted his knee.

“Nope. Our secret.” You clinked your bottle against Rey’s and Poe felt excitement in his veins that you and Rey were already getting along.

“All right Y/N, there’s a few things Poe didn’t tell us about you,” Finn said. “What’s your major?”

“Marketing, which will let me do pretty much anything.”

“Do you know what you’re doing after school?”

“Not even in the slightest. I probably should start setting up job interviews though.”

“Family?”

“Mom, older sister, brother-in-law.”

“Is this twenty questions? Because if it is, it’s totally one-sided.” Poe interrupted.

“We’re doing a crash course on Y/N. Pun intended.” Finn said, making Poe roll his eyes.

“Ok fine, but let me sneak in a question or two.” You said. “Family?”

Poe’s eyes flickered between his two friends as he tensed beside you. You froze, realizing you might’ve struck a nerve but not knowing how. Your nerves were back in full force, a warm uncomfortable feeling settling in your chest.

“We were foster kids,” Finn said. “I never knew my birth parents.”

“And my parents died when I was five.” Rey added. They sounded so nonchalant about it, like they’ve said it a million times. A sorrowful look crossed your face.

“Don’t be sorry.” Rey shook her head, placing her hand on yours. “We got lucky with loving families and it made us who we are.”

“And we’re awesome, so…”

You admired their perspective. You weren’t very familiar with the foster system, knowing only what you know through word-of-mouth and poor TV portrayal, but you knew enough to know that kids sometimes ended up in bad situations when they all deserved good situations. And you were grateful that Finn and Rey ended up with good families.

“My dad walked out on my family six months ago to be with his mistress and we didn’t hear from him for two weeks,” you admitted, breaking the tense silence. Poe squeezed your hand. “Since we’re swapping family stories.”

Finn and Rey were silent before bursting out laughing, which caused you to laugh, and then Poe laughed. Uncomfortable family situations you had no control over whatsoever wouldn’t ruin a good time.

You learned that Rey was incredibly gifted and the youngest engineer at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida, working between engine maintenance on planes and shuttles to computer data processing. She had two rescue cats named Ochi and Deo and hated the humidity of Florida but loved the ocean and the lush green of the Everglades.

Finn was a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force based in California, quickly rising through the ranks with his skill and natural leadership abilities. He had just been assigned to the base in California and he was still getting used to all the sun. He and Poe met in high school first and made a plan to join the Air Force together until Poe’s father got sick. The band had been Finn’s idea, having spent three weeks holding auditions until he found his bandmates.

“Your friends are cooler than mine,” you said quietly to Poe before turning back to Finn and Rey. “So NASA engineer and Air Force pilot/sergeant. Definitely cooler than a famous musician.”

“Poe told you about that?” Finn asked. “Did he tell you about Skywalker Records?”

“Only that they were interested in you.”

“Well, we actually sat down with the founder Luke and Poe was so nervous that he tripped over his own feet and broke one of his Grammy’s.”

You wanted to feel bad for your boyfriend, but instead you busted out laughing. Poe groaned in embarrassment and you leaned into him, patting his stomach. You and Poe were probably a little touchy feely given that you with his friends, but if they had a problem with it they didn’t seem to care. You never got to act like a couple in public and you were taking full advantage of it.

“So, are you excited to graduate?” Rey asked. You nodded, but deep in the back of your mind you didn’t want to think about graduating, entering the real world and leaving the comfort of a daily school routine. And, ultimately, the possibility of leaving Poe.

“It’s been a long ride and sometimes I think I’ll forget everything I learned,” you vented. “And sometimes I feel like all college has done for me is teach me how to function on very little sleep and how to get really good at Mario Kart, like those skills are going to take me far.”

“Depending on what you end up doing, working on no sleep can help you.” Rey answered. Poe shot her a look.

“Don’t encourage it, it’s not healthy.”

“But it’s true.”

“You any good?” Finn interrupted, looking directly at you.

“At not sleeping? Very.”

“No, at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Finn huffed and you furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, giving you a challenging look. “I just so happen to be the King of Mario Kart.”

You arched your eyebrow. Poe and Rey were looking at the both of you humorously.

“How good?”

And that’s how you found yourself back in Poe’s apartment, moving the coffee table out of the way while Poe hooked up the gaming system.

“How do you want to do this? No matter how good you think you are, your thumb is going to cramp after a couple of races. We’re going to need a break.”

“You don’t think you’re playing alone, do you?” Poe asked, looking between you and Finn. “You’re my girlfriend and all, Y/N, but I’m going to kick your ass.”

A smirk grew on your face. “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Poe stalked towards you, leaning down to your ear. “Just remember that I always win.”

Undoubtedly a little turned on, you had never been more determined to beat someone for. And Poe knew it.

“Fine. Finn and Poe against me and Y/N,” Rey said. “I hope you’re both prepared to get your ass kicked by a couple of girls.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Finn said, handing over a controller. Poe came back into the living room with a piece of paper and a pen.

“We’ll keep track of the points from each set of races. Whoever tallies the most at the end wins.”

As you picked your characters, Mario and Luigi respectively, Rey pulled you aside. “I think they’re strategizing,” she whispered, looking at Finn and Poe, who were huddled up together. Beebs just lay in the middle of the floor with his tail wagging, just wanting to be included.

“What is there to strategize on? You just race,” you said.

“I have an idea. Go for the speeder.” Rey said. “Finn will most likely go with something flashy that has better acceleration but the speeder is easier to control, which will give you the advantage when you get to the harder courses.”

You pointed at her with a smirk. “Good thinking.”

It was back and forth, round after round. You’d win a couple. Finn would win a couple. Then Rey, then Poe. Both teams took to over-the-top celebrations. The guys danced, you and Rey chest bumped. Celebratory shots after each round made their way into the game.

You were having the time of your life.

Entering the final race, the score was incredibly close, the guys leading you by six points. You needed to finish at least fifth in order to beat them. It was you and Finn, battling it out over who’d be crowned the best at Mario Kart. You had just gained the lead when you felt Poe’s hands on your hips. You tried to shake them off, but he wouldn’t budge. You ignored him, but he suddenly wrapped one arm around your waist and started pulling backwards away from the TV.

“Oh hell no! Poe!” you laughed, fighting against the pull, but it was useless. “Rey!”

You grabbed your partner’s attention and tossed her the remote as Poe pulled you back by the couch. You cheered victoriously when Rey got back on course and managed to pull back just behind Finn. You stopped fighting against Poe and rested your arms on top of his, hip-checking him as he buried his face in your neck and wrapped his other arm around you.

“You are such a cheater!” You were giggling uncontrollably as Poe placed kisses wherever he could. He kissed up your neck to your cheek.

“I’m sorry you didn’t think of it,” Poe said against your cheek, with humor in his voice. His lips moved all over your cheek. You turned your face and caught his lips, which he kissed multiple times as you laughed. The joyful crinkles by your eyes matched his.

Finn and Rey glanced at each other with knowing smirks. Their best friend was completely smitten.

Poe rested his chin on your shoulder as you both watched your partners finish the race. He subconsciously tightened his grip around you as Finn and Rey became neck and neck, you cheering as Rey crossed the finish line. She didn’t finish first, but she did beat Finn. Poe released you as you went to high-five Rey, picking up the pad of paper and writing down the scores. You waited anxiously as they tallied up the results.

“We win!”

You and Rey protested, grabbing the paper to double check the math. They had indeed won, and you knew Poe wasn’t going to let you live it down.

“A worthy competitor,” you stuck your hand out to Finn, who shook it. Poe stuck out his hand and you shook your head. “Not happening.”

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. “That’s not very friendly.”

“You and me: rematch.”

“It’s a date.”

He pecked your lips and grabbed the bottles of alcohol to put away. “It’s late, do you guys just want to crash here? I’ve got the guest room and the couch.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Rey said, looking at Finn who nodded. “Go take Beebs out, we know where your extra blankets and pillows are.”

While Poe took Beebs out, you helped Finn and Rey get the couch set up, turned off lights, and shut things down for the night. You met them in the middle of the living room, not quite ready to say good night.

“You know, I really admire how strong you’ve kept your friendship after all these years while being thousands of miles apart,” you commented. “I’m terrified of what’s going to happen with my friends here and my friends from high school.”

“Sometimes you just find people in your life who are worth the effort. Rey and Poe are that for me. And you seem to be that way for Poe.”

“So, does that mean I’ve got your approval?”

Finn and Rey glanced at each other before looking back at you. You gave them a knowing look in return.

“Damn, she’s observant,” Finn whispered loudly.

“Not that we should have any say over who Poe chooses to date,” Rey stated. “But yes.”

You gave them a small smile, whispering your thanks that was interrupted with a loud yawn from Finn.

“Sorry, it’s exhausting kicking ass,” Finn said. Both you and Rey rolled your eyes.

“I’ll get better by beating Poe and the next time you come up, we’ll play.”

“Deal.”

It was your turn to yawn, the sleepy ambiance of the apartment practically pushing you towards bed.

“Go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning.” Rey said, hugging you. You were surprised by the action, but hugged her back nonetheless. Finn tapped you on the shoulder as you pulled away from Rey.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with friends in the next room over.” Finn warned, pulling you into a hug. You chuckled.

“Poe’s gonna gloat all night, so don’t worry. It’s not happening.”

You caught Poe’s eye as he came in the door and seeing you hugging his friend. You expected him to give you a look for talking about him while he was gone, but instead you saw him carefully watching you with a smile on his face as he took off his coat. After just a couple of hours, you were getting along with two of the most important people in his life.

He couldn’t help but be happy.

tag list [open] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @umchrisevans @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps 

[nsheetee]

Wifi

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: Roommate AU || Fluff, slightly crack-ish Length: 2k Warning: one mention of an adult theme, implied female reader Summary: You and Renjun have been rooming together for a while, not knowing of your hidden feelings for each other. Surprisingly, it’s the bad wifi connection in your room that brings you together.

〈〈〈━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━〉〉〉

You sigh for what seems like the umpteenth time that evening, your fingers angrily keyboard smashing on your laptop when the wifi bars at the top of the screen show only one small, weak bar barely hanging on.

Ever since you moved in with your new roommate Renjun, you’ve noticed how every once in a while around 11pm, the wifi in your room goes weak. Being a creature of the night that always gets their homework done during this time, it frustrates you that you have to take small breaks every few minutes for your computer to catch up with the internet connection.

Finally fed up with waiting for your computer to load, you pick up your supplies and march over to Renjun’s room, which is the closest room to the apartment’s wifi router. You knock on the door and after hearing an affirmative, you walk into the room. Renjun is buried under a pile of blankets on his bed with his hoodie pulled up to his lips and the hood over his forehead. The only light in the room is coming from his laptop and he hisses when you turn on the room light.

“Good God, turn that off before you blind me. What do you need?” You turn the light back off and instead turn on Renjun’s desk light, setting your stuff down on top of his abandoned homework.

“Can I finish my homework in here?”

“What’s wrong with your room?”

“The internet’s being dodgy again.” You explain and Renjun silently nods, shutting his laptop and putting his airpods into his ears as he looks through his phone. You sit at his “organized mess” of a desk, open your computer, and sigh contently when the wifi works smoothly.

Renjun peers over his phone to look at you. You’re concentrating hard on whatever paper you’re writing; your pajama shirt is so big that it covers your shorts and your hair is only held in it’s messy bun by a couple of pencils. He can’t see your face, but admiration pools in his chest.

He’s been lovesick for you ever since you interviewed to be his roommate. When you introduced yourself and answered all of his questions in your own quirky way, Renjun just about handed over the lease for you to sign then and there and called off all the other interviews he had that day. Since then, his small crush has grown bigger, but seems to be unnoticed by you. Renjun, instead of doing the obvious thing and confessing, decided to help you find out about his feelings “by yourself.”

Renjun found out that he can manually decrease the bandwidth of the apartment’s wifi just by logging into his internet service provider account online. So, he began to weaken the wifi every few nights around 11pm, when he knew you were doing your homework. Like clockwork, he’d hear your groans of frustration for a few moments before your feet pad over to his room and knock on the door, asking to do your homework in his room.

Was Renjun being ridiculous? Maybe… Was he going to stop this game he has you unknowingly playing? Not until you realize he has feelings for you or he gets enough guts to confess. Renjun sighs dejectedly when he thinks about the likeness of either of those events happening anytime soon. He sinks down further into his nest of blankets in an attempt to stop the feelings from taking over his chest, but to no avail.

Renjun has a total, major, embarrassing crush on his roommate.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You knock on Renjun’s door once again, sighing when he tells you to enter from inside. You walk in with your books and pens in your hands, your computer haphazardly balanced on top of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Renjun asks from his spot on the floor. His project for his biology class is spread out on the floor; some sort of visual presentation that involves a lot of paper cut outs and glue.

“Internet’s bad.” You look over his work, “Are you actually doing your homework? I didn’t know that was possible.” Renjun glaces up from gluing paper to his presentation, a blank stare on his face. He didn’t manually decrease the bandwidth of the wifi tonight. Are the internet gods smiling down on him and bringing you to him through their own will? He hopes so.

“Those are bold words for someone who needs internet and the only place to get it is in my room.” It’s your turn to give Renjun a blank stare as you drop off your supplies on his desk. “Come here.” He commands. You sit down criss-cross applesauce across from him and he hands you a thick permanent marker.

“Write this here.” He points to a small passage in his notebook and a blank space on the presentation board before moving to glue a different piece of paper.

“Why? I’m not going to do your homework for you in return for wifi. I live here, I pay with this wifi.” You point the marker tip at him but he ignores you, too focused on gluing a piece of paper to the cardboard.

“Once again, this is my room.” You sigh at his stubbornness, deciding to help him just this once. You take time to look around; although you’ve been rooming together for a few weeks now, this is the first time you’ve casually been in his room. The wall above his bed particularly catches your eye; his drawings, the quick doodles that he seems to be proud of, are hanging over his bed. Some are of people he’s seen at the coffee shop he usually hangs out in, some are of your house plants that you bought for the window sill in the kitchen.

Your heart softens when you look back at Renjun; he seems to be hyperfixed on gluing a particular piece of paper to the cardboard, his lips open in concentration and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You feel courage build up in your chest and your gut fill with fearlessness. This is it. You’re going to confess your feelings for your roommate right here and right now.

“Nice drawings.” You mumble out instead, cursing to yourself in your head when the courage fades.

“Really?” Renjun asks, looking over his shoulder to the drawings. “They’re just doodles…” He tries to sound humble, but you can see the tilt of one side of his lips as he tries to hide his smile.

“Yeah, golden hands, they’re good.” You roll your eyes, deciding to feed his ego. It distracts him long enough to allow you to stand up and escape to Renjun’s desk chair. You start your own homework, a yawn leaving your lips. Maybe tonight isn’t the time to confess your crush on your roommate, but you hope he’ll be able to see the little hints you give of your feelings.

Renjun once again can’t help but stare at your back as you work, not minding that you’re not helping him anymore. He hates that your small, seemingly insignificant comment about his artwork makes his heart pound. He wishes the wifi could stop working by itself more often so he could see you naturally, like he did tonight.

〈〈〈〉〉〉

You don’t knock this time as you enter Renjun’s room, throwing up a peace sign as you close the door behind you and walk to his desk.

“Hey,” He raises his voice. “I get you have homework to do and the internet is weird, but at least knock. What if I was… masterbating in here or something.” He mumbles the last part and you snort.

“I still need to use the internet. So if you’re gonna masterbate anytime soon, please go do it somewhere else.”

“This is my room.” Renjun whines, throwing the drawing pad he was using before you barged in next to him and flopping onto his bed.

“Or so you keep saying.” You tease some more, setting down your supplies on his desk.

Renjun hasn’t touched the wifi bandwidth in weeks for fear that his meddling has caused the wifi to actually turn bad in your apartment. His wish came true: the wifi kept breaking and messing up in your room, all by itself. Now, you were constantly in Renjun’s room doing your homework and although Renjun likes you (literally), he doesn’t like how you welcome yourself in.

You surprise him by laying down next to him; you’re both facing the ceiling, hands on your stomachs and sighs escaping your lips every few seconds. Renjun can’t tell what you’re thinking, he’s too afraid to look at your face for the fear of not being able to quit looking. He doesn’t know if you’re as affected as him by your arm meeting his every time you breath, or if you can sense his thoughts racing at 1,000 miles an hour in his head. He tries to breathe evenly when he catches a whiff of your moisturizer, the one he said he liked a few weeks ago and that you’ve been using everyday since.

“Aren’t you here to do your homework? Why are you laying down?”

“No.” You gulp at the words that are about to leave your lips. “I’m here… for you.” You hold your breath after you finish talking.

“What.”

“The wifi has been working fine for weeks. I’ve been coming here to spend time… with you.” You can’t imagine how Renjun was dense enough to believe that the wifi has been poor almost every night for the past 2 months, but you hope it has something to do with him liking spending time with you. You got tired of waiting for Renjun to pick up your hints and stopped waiting for the wifi to cut out in your room to join him in his-- it’s not like he would ever know if the wifi is actually being dodgy on your side of the apartment.

You’re still nervously waiting for Renjun to say something or to tease you and kick you out of his room and tell you to find a different place to stay and then you’re going to be homeless and then you’ll definitely never have good wifi and then…

Renjun sits up and you don’t let your eyes meet, instead pulling your hood over your head and tightening the strings to hide away from your indirect confession. Renjun untightens the strings and pulls the hood off of you; he looks like he’s about to laugh at you and it makes you nervous.

“You’re a fool. I was the one that was cutting out your wifi.” His words make you sit up straight. Your jaw unhinges as embarrassment floods you. You thought you were only going to confess your feelings tonight, not the fact that you’ve been sneakingly lying to Renjun to hang out with him every night.

Renjun starts laughing and in your flustered state, you pick up his forgotten drawing pad and hit him with it. Renjun only laughs harder at your reaction, clutching his shoulder. He’s partially laughing because of the dumb situation you got yourselves in, but also out of joy because you just confessed your feelings to him.

“You! Do you know how angry you made me? I couldn’t get any of my work done for weeks.” You yell. You’re sure the neighbors could probably hear your mixed voices, but you don’t care. “Why did you purposefully cut out the wifi?” You groan.

“Because I knew you would come to my room if I did.” Renjun confesses, leaning back on his bed with his hands. Your heart soars at his words; it’s what you’ve wanted him to say to you for so long. You raise the drawing pad to hit him again but he catches it, fingers covering yours as he stops your second attack. You let him pry the pad out of your hands and he drops it to a different corner of the bed.

“C’mere, dummy.”

“Who are you calling a dummy?”

“You. Now get over here so I can finally kiss you senseless.”

[chemiste]

Foresight ~ ch.4

a/n: heyooooo, it’s chapter 4! btw, if y’all have requests send them in!!

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Once at the tour bus, you were met with various sleepy stares from a couple crew and the band members.

Sarah came up to you and basically melted into your hug, “I’m so tired…” She mumbled. You agreed with her as a crew person came up to take your suitcase and store it under the bus.

You realized there was more than once bus and wondered where you were supposed to go, “Hey Sar, do you know which bus I’m supposed to go on?” She rubbed the sleep out of her eye, “You’re probably on ours cause you’re Harry Styles ‘best friend’ right?” You nodded at her prediction and started to wonder about the friend thing.

Are we just going to pretend? Or does he actually wanna be real friends…

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Jeff tapping on your shoulder. “Good morning sunshine.” “Hey, Jeff.” “There’s an extra bed in the band’s bus you can take that one.” You gave a smile to him, “Thanks.”

Everyone climbed into their respective buses so they could start the 5-hour drive right on the dot. The bus was a lot bigger than you expected.

In the front behind the driver's seat was a long couch that sat opposite its twin couch, it the left corner close to the bus door was a tv drilled into the wall that sat diagonally. Farther back was a booth and table and then a mini kitchen on the right side. You walked farther back and saw on the left the small slide door to the bathroom and then another sliding door in the middle of the hallway opened to show the 4 sets of bunk beds, two on each side.

Each bed was covered with a curtain you could pull back. All of the beds thankfully, had their curtains open so you could see which one would most like be yours. It was the last bottom bed on the left side, it was the only one that didn’t have any pictures stuck on the walls inside around the tiny windows. One bed had fairy lights taped to the ceiling and another had a poster of Fleetwood Mac.

Putting down your backpack, you sat down onto the teal duvet that was too soft to be real.

“Innit comfy? 100% Egyptian Cotton.” You looked up to find a very cozy looking boy. Harry was wearing grey sweatpants and a tour hoodie.

His hair was sticking out from different angles and you could see the faint shadow of a beard growing. “Hi Harry, how are you feeling?” You asked as he sat down on the bed across from yours and started to take off his shoes.

“I’ll be better once we’re on the road.” Something about this tone made you wonder if he had a rough night but you didn’t ask anything else as the engine started up and the rest of the band came into the sleeping area to try and sleep the whole trip to Amsterdam.

Someone hit the lights off as the bus started to move and everyone’s curtains closed sans yours and Harry’s. You pulled your noise-canceling headphones you’d gotten as a present from a friend the year before and connected it to your phone to play some tunes to drown out the hum of the engine.

Little streams of light flashed in from your tiny window every so often so you pulled the black-out blinds shut and climbed into the XL twin bed.

You gave a little wave to Harry who had set up with a book and closed your curtain to try and sleep.

At some point on the drive, one of the turns the tour bus had taken jostled you awake. You pulled your blinds up a tiny bit to see that the sun was just breaking over the horizon.

You pulled your headphones off and took your hair down to brush through with your fingers. You contemplated going back to sleep but decided not to so you could enjoy the sunrise as you rode through the lovely landscape of Europe. You closed your blinds again and pulled back your curtains to get out of bed.

What surprised you was the bed across from you was empty, the curtain pulled back all the way and the conformer kicked down towards the end of the bed. After glancing around to see all the others were closed, you tiptoed out of the corridor and slipped out the sliding door, softly closing it behind you.

“Wha ’re doin’ up so early?

A British voice asked as you turned around to see the man of the hour sprawled out on the left side couch with a bowl of oatmeal in hand.

You padded over to the opposite couch and sat down into it, admiring how it swallowed you up.

Sorta like the cat bus in Totoro…

“Just got jostled awake by a turn, I wanted to watch the sunrise.” He hummed at your response and took a scoop of oatmeal.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the horizon painted with rays of yellow, orange, and peach.

“Sorta looks like a Sunflower doesn’t it?” You said aloud to him, still watching the new bursts of light dance around on the land below it. You heard the tap in the kitchen run and looked to see Harry rinsing out his empty bowl.

“Why are you up so early?” You finally asked, after swaying between thinking it might overstep boundaries or not. He shrugged and sat down, this time sitting on your couch. He rested an arm on the backrest and watched the road.

“Not sleeping well I guess.” You didn’t say anything, just watched out the window with him, not wanting to scare him if he decided to elaborate.

After a few minutes, he finally did. “I had a phone call last night that I wasn’t expecting and it just, messed with my head. Didn’t sleep very well s’all.”

Frankly, you didn’t know what position you were in to give advice but he seemed pretty torn up so you decided to give it a go.

“When I get into an argument with someone, I try and think of the qualities of them that I love them for and try to see my side from their point of view. Sometimes it infuriates me to the core cause I can’t see a different version of the story than mine, but once I do its easier to work things out cause then I can address the points that, if I were in their shoes, would upset me.”

He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “But Harry,” you put a hand on his shoulder and he turned his face ever so slightly to look at you, “remember that sometimes the other side of the argument may not be true and you can’t do anything about it. So if you can’t do anything to change it, don’t let yourself be consumed by it.”

You cracked a small smile, “Plus lavender and chamomile tea always put my mind at ease and it’s easier to sleep after a cuppa I think.”

The conversation ended without his response because Mitch and Sarah came into the main space to make coffee and breakfast. While the three musicians chatted, you slipped back into the cabin to grab your toothbrush and went into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do other things. You curled your eyelashes again, just in case.

After putting your makeup bag back in your backpack, you pulled your laptop out and sat down on your bed after pulled the blinds up. You didn’t get under the covers because it started to get warm in the bus.

“Clare?” The woman in question looked down at you from the top bunk that sat diagonally opposite yours. “Is there wifi on the bus?” She smiled and answered. “Ya, connect to the router ‘only’ and type in for the password ‘angel’.”

You snorted at the namesake of both titles and gave her a thanks. You opened your email account and sent an email to both of your college profs to plead to ask to transfer your work online.

Hello prof!

So, a situation has occurred and I’m going now to be in Europe for the next month. Is there any way I would be able to transfer my classes online for the time being?

Let me know what actions I need to take.

Y/N L/N

After re-reading it a couple times, you sent it off just to get out there before class was supposed to start again.

For the next two hours, you went over the syllabus and tried to find things you’d be able to write about or take pictures of incase your teachers needed a bit more convincing.

You had pulled out your camera and were looking through some of the recent pictures of Europe you had taken for the extra credit assignment your photography teacher had given you when Harry walked back into the sleeping area.

He sat on his bed and pulled his feet into a crisscross applesauce position.

“You’re a photographer?” He inquired. You glanced up at him for a moment and then looked back down in concentration on the picture in front of you and the screen of your laptop.

“Yeah, for class.—Damn, I don’t think this photo qualifies.” “Huh?” Harry hopped off his bed and peaked down to what you were looking at.

“Scoot over.” “What?”

He rolled his eyes are you and squished onto the bed with you. “What are you working on?” He asked with what looked like, honest interest. It surprised you a bit, since why would he care?

He could be doing so many, probably more important things on the ride than sitting with me.

“Well, I’m taking a photography class in college, one of my last actually. I did dual credit classes in high school and only needed a few to technically graduate with my degree.”

“Wha’s your degree ’n?”

“Photography and Media Arts with a minor in Creative Writing.”

He blew a larger breath out and sat back against the pillows you propped up against the wall, “That’s a mouthful innit?”

You smiled and held the camera up a bit to zoom into the picture. “I love it, I actually take photos for a few companies in New York which is exciting. It’ll help that I already have clients leaving college.”

“Where do you go to college?” “NYU.” “Very cool aren’t yeh?” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at the compliment. “So what’s wrong with the picture?” He asked.

“I’m working on an assignment—” “during spring break?!” “—an extra credit assignment, and basically for each of these words I need a picture that correlates to it. The crossed off ones I’ve already completed.”

Harry leaned forward to read the words off your laptop.

Extra Credit Work

Please take photos over this month and relate at least one picture to each word below. Each picture is worth 10 points. You can add a caption about the picture to help it associate in need.

Joy

Sour

Chaos

Silly

Bright

Anguish

Erotic

Heavenly

Red

Enigma

Due May 1st.

“This is the photo I wanted to use for Joy but I don’t know if it's too generic or not.”

You gave him the camera, the photo was of Maggie on the first day in Paris. She was leaning backwards, looking at the Eiffel Tower.

“See, you can’t see her face, which is okay but the body isn’t giving that much expression either so I’m not sure if it will come off as stiff or not.”

He spent a few more moments looking at the picture and then the word. “I think it represents joy perfectly.”

You tilted your head and gave a quizzical expression.

“Look,” he started, “your definition of joy is different from someone else, right? But it’s easier to see that the focus of the photo is in a carefree state, leanin’ back, hair down. An’ I don’t think her body is stiff, ’t’s just relaxed. You can add a caption too if you want right? Maybe add somethin' like, the true feeling of joy ’s when you can finally throw your head back an’ not worry about hittin a wall or som’hin like that.”

He handed you the camera back and you looked at the picture again with a different view on it. “Wow—thank you, that’s honestly just what I needed to hear.” He looked down to his fingers, “can say the same fo’ this morin’, thank you fo’ that.”

Close it quickly Y/N….

Close them…huh?

“Blinds!”

Someone yelled from the main corridor. Harry jumped up from the bed and you pulled your blind shut as he pulled his shut and checked the others.

“Wha’ is it?!” He yelled into the other room, you trailed behind him after putting your things back into your backpack. Adam had a clicker in his hand that put down a black veil over both large windows in the main compartment.

“This bus has blacked-out windows, why the veils?” You asked.

“Cause if fans come up to the bus with a flash camera, it can still take a picture of the inside, this way the veil blocks it out.” The veils still allowed you to see through them sorta and you gasped at the sight before you. It seemed as though hundreds of people had mobbed the as the bus was trying to drive through.

“We’re in Amsterdam.” You stated.

 “Yeah,” Mitch replied, “seems as though the fans were tipped off of which hotel we’re staying in or something.” After hearing that, the whole room filled with a slight tension that caused you back to ache.

Clare glanced at her phone, “Jeffery is telling us to brace ourselves cause the hotel doesn’t have a private entrance we could drive through, we’re gonna have to go through the crowd.” The band dispersed to get their stuff.

As you packed up, Harry’s phone started to ring.

“Yeh? Mhm, yeah—fuck you’r right.” The British heartthrob turned to look at you which made you wonder who he was talking to.

“Will do, bye.” He ended the call and took his black hoodie off.

“Give me your sweatshirt, Jeff says we’ve got to make sure you don’t draw too much attention to yourself cause we don’t want a riot since we don’t ‘ave security wit’ us.”

You nodded and shrugged off the pink long sleeve. Once you got the hoodie over your head, you noticed how it engulfed you slightly.

“Got any sunnies?”

You pulled some out from a case in your bag and slipped them on. “We’re as close to the door as we can get, it’s time to go!”

Sarah called out to the band. “Hold you’r backpack in your hand, don’t want them to grab the handle and yank you back.” You only nodded and tied your tennis shoes before following the rest of them out to the door.

“Ready? Open, open, open!”

<3

masterlist

[pilot-boi]

New Residents: Chapter Two

Tennants

They gained a dog, and it sets in even more that Ren is the only adult in a thousand clicks

AO3 LINK

The Berry rattled as Ren steered carefully through an asteroid belt. The handling on the ship wasn’t meant for sharp turns and quick maneuvers. He heard Petey and Jaune both yelp in surprise as the Berry turned nearly on its side. Ren quickly corrected their angle, silently praying that the crates in the hold would be able to stand the tossing and turning.  

“You two okay?” He called back.

“We’re good,” Jaune said. Another sharp turn had him throwing his arms even tighter around Petey, trying to keep her from slipping from his grasp.

“Just a little bit more,” Ren said, mostly to the ship. It shuddered in response. They really needed the cash from this job, just to fix the Berry. As their destination came into view, Ren took a risk and put on a burst of speed. He flinched when he heard something scrape along the top of the ship.

“What was that?” Jaune yelped. “Did you hurt my ship?”

“No?” Ren said, the word coming out more of a question than he liked.

The ship finally broke free of the asteroid belt, and Ren let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d be holding. The trade planet of Tregtar was approaching quickly, and Ren let the Berry slow down as they prepared for landing.

“Well, that could have been worse,” He muttered to himself.

---

“You did hurt my ship!” Jaune exclaimed, aghast, sitting on top of the Berry, elbow deep in the mechanics of it. “Fortunately, it’s just a scratch. I don’t think it got to anything internal.”

“That’s good,” Ren said into his communicator, heaving the crates out of the hold. None of them were damaged, luckily. Petey slept next to him, curled up on some empty sacks.

“Nope. Spoke too soon,” Jaune said, sighing. “The AI got hit. It’s totally busted.”

“Maybe we can find someone here who can fix it?” Ren suggested, closing the hold door.

“Sure hope so,” Jaune said, slamming the panel shut. “Or we’re stuck here.” He slid down back into the ship and emerged a few minutes later. Ren was shaking hands with a bird-like alien that clacked its beak a couple times and then handed Ren an envelope. 

A few more of the bird aliens carried the crates away while Ren checked the money. His face told Jaune that they’d been paid more than they should have been, but they weren’t about to tell their employers.

He pocketed the envelope and gave Jaune a thumbs-up.

Jaune tapped his watch a few times, pulling up a map of the local area. “There’s a town a little ways from here. Not huge, but hopefully we can find someone there who can help us.”

Ren nodded. They had more than enough to pay for an AI fix-up now, not to mention everything else wrong with the Berry.

“Where’s Petey?” Jaune asked.

“Inside,” Ren said. “She was sleeping in the common room last I checked.”

Jaune went back inside, running to their common room to check up on her. He hadn’t found a leash that would stay around her neck, yet, so they were going to have to leave her while they found a technician.

“Uh, Ren?” He called out.

“Yeah?”

“She isn’t here.”

Ren walked into the room. “Maybe she just moved to one of the other rooms?”

“You check upstairs. I’ll take this floor,” Jaune said.

When they reconvened, neither of them had found Petey.

“Maybe she slipped out when I was unloading the crates,” Ren said. “She can’t have gone far.”

Jaune was starting to panic. Their dog was gone. What if she got hurt? What if someone took her? What if she didn’t come back? What if… what if…

“Jaune!” Ren grabbed Jaune’s shoulders, holding him until his breathing evened out. “Snap out of it! Standing around worrying isn’t going to help us find Petey any faster.”

Jaune nodded, gently pushing Ren off of him. “I know, I’m just- I don’t want anything to have happened to her.”

“I know,” Ren said, leading Jaune outside. “We’ll find her.”

Petey wasn’t anywhere around the Berry. She wasn’t within ear shot. She always came when Jaune called. She must have gone towards the town, drawn in by whatever delicious smells were coming from there.

---

“Petey! Come here, girl!” Jaune called, a few aliens on the street giving him odd looks.

“Petey!” Ren yelled. “Petey, come on!”

No response. Jaune had to admit, he was starting to get tired. They had been searching for hours. He wouldn’t stop until he found Petey, though. Just a breather. A small but bright bar at the end of the street caught his attention, and he pointed it out to Ren.

“Maybe she went in there?” he suggested. “We could check, and rest our feet a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ren said. He didn’t look as tired, but Jaune could tell that even he was slowing down.

They entered the bar. Burnt neon lights decorated the walls. A few plants were placed in strategic corners. The place smelled like meat and beer. A few patrons sat at the bar, or at the various tables placed around the floor. No Petey in sight.

“I’m going to get some water,” Jaune told Ren. “Look around the back? Maybe she tried to get some scraps from the garbage.”

Ren nodded, “Get some for me too. My throat is dying.”

Jaune nodded back and sat down at the bar. The bartender, a Ninkain, stood behind the counter, polishing a glass and humming to herself. She looked up when Jaune collapsed onto one of the stools.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day,” she commented, speaking quickly. 

“You could say that,” Jaune said. “Can I get some water?”

The bartender looked surprised that Jaune didn’t order something a bit stronger, but she complied anyways. “Your friend looks like he’s looking for something,” she observed as she poured Jaune’s glass, glancing behind him as Ren walked back into the bar and looking him up and down.

“Our Dulcosi,” Jaune said, resting his head on the bar. “She ran off while we weren’t paying attention, and now we can’t find her anywhere.”

“What color is she?” the bartender asked, handing Jaune his water. “I think I might have seen one nearby.”

Jaune’s head jerked up. “She’s green, and responds to Petey.”

Ren came up behind Jaune, “Have you seen any Dulcosi that look like that? We’ve been searching for hours and we’re worried about her.”

“Give me a minute,” the bartender said. “I’ll be right back.” She retreated to the back of the bar. Ren and Jaune exchanged hopeful looks.

The woman came back out with an orange humanoid android wearing a bright green hoodie. He looked nervous, and the bartender appeared to be reassuring him as the two approached Jaune and Ren.

“This is Oscar,” the bartender said, flipping her vibrant orange hair out of her face and gently forcing the android to take a step closer to the bar.

Oscar waved, forcing a nervous smile. “Hi. You guys are looking for your dog?”

“Yes,” Jaune answered. “Have you seen her?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. She was wandering around outside. She wasn’t wearing a collar, and I didn’t want the animal control to get her, so I brought her inside.”

Jaune nearly vaulted over the bar. He wanted to grab and shake the information out of the android, but he was worried that he’d short the guy out, he was so anxious. “Where is she now?” he asked, standing up and almost knocking over his glass.

“She’s in the back right now,” Oscar said, startled by Jaune’s sudden movement. “I’ll go get her.” He quickly scurried to the back.

“Nora, by the way,” the bartender said, taking Ren’s hand and shaking it and giving him a wink. “My cousin runs this joint, but I help out when I can.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ren said, and Jaune was sure that if he could, that a flush would be spreading across his stone cheeks. “I’m Ren, and the impatient asshole is Jaune.”

Jaune frowned. “Dude, uncalled for.”

Before Ren could say anything else, Oscar reemerged from the back, carrying Petey carefully. The moment she saw Jaune she jumped out of Oscar’s arms and onto the bar, covering Jaune’s face in slobbery dog kisses.

“Oh my god, I missed you,” Jaune buried his face into her neck. “Don’t scare me like that, girl!”

“You two don’t happen to know a mechanic who could repair a damaged AI, do you?” Ren asked, pulling Nora and Oscar’s attention away from the happy reunion. Jaune wasn’t going to look up from Petey for another ten minutes or so.

Oscar and Nora exchanged looks. “I’m a mechanic,” Nora said, slowing her speech patterns for the first time since they’d met. “I should be able to fix your ship.”

“I know some things about ships too,” Oscar said, tapping his head. “Not how to actually fix it, though.”

“Any help is good help,” Ren said.

---

“Yeah, the router is totally fried,” Nora said, taking Ren’s hand as she climbed out of the Berry. “You’re going to need a replacement for that, as well as a few tweaks to the code. How hard did you hit this thing?”

Ren winced. “Pretty hard. An asteroid scraped along the top as we were getting out of the Muyeog belt.”

Nora frowned, hands on her hips and a frown on her face. “Oscar should be able to help with the coding, and I can show you where to find the parts you need.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ren volunteered. Nora grinned brightly and he averted his eyes again. “Jaune and Petey can stay here with Oscar. We don’t want her running off again.”

“Good idea,” Jaune said. “I should totally stay here with Petey. I should always be on Petey duty. Never let her out of my sight.”

Ren chuckled. “Sure,” he said, shaking his head.

“Let’s go now, while the good shops are still open,” Nora said. She and Ren waved goodbye to Oscar and Jaune and started down the street.

“So…” Oscar said, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. “You like… dogs?”

“Love ‘em,” Jaune said, rubbing Petey behind the ears. “You, uh… You gonna get started on that coding?”

“Oh, right!” Oscar scrambled out of the room. Jaune followed right behind, making sure Petey followed before he let the door slide shut. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a while.

Oscar went to their control room, pulling up the coding on the main console. Jaune sat behind him, pulling Petey onto his lap.

“You’re the only crew members?” Oscar asked, beginning to go through the ship’s main coding.

“Yeah,” Jaune said, patting Petey’s belly. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” Oscar quickly corrected. “I mean, most ships have a doctor or something, and someone who can do repairs. Sometimes a bodyguard. I’m guessing you guys are transporters?”

“Something like that,” Jaune said. “We just do odd jobs, really.”

Oscar nodded and went silent as he dove deeper into the coding of the Berry.

Uncomfortable silence.

---

A couple of hours later, Ren and Nora returned. Oscar had finished with the coding several minutes ago, and Jaune had been trying to keep up a conversation with the anxious android. 

Oscar seemed reluctant to tell Jaune much of anything about himself or Nora, but he had also seemed adverse to staying silent.

Ren walked right into the ship, carrying the parts. He gestured for Jaune to follow, while Nora pulled Oscar aside and began whispering to him.

“So, Nora and I got talking,” he started, setting down the parts they’d picked up, “and we could really use someone with her level of expertise on the crew. Apparently Oscar’s got some medical knowledge too, and is really good at coding.”

Jaune looked over at the two. It wouldn’t hurt to have more people on board, especially since he and Ren were barely managing this ship with just them.

“She’s talking to Oscar about it right now,” Ren continued. “As long as you’re okay with it, we should be good to go once she convinces him to come along with us.”

“Fine by me,” Jaune said. “I doubt that crash is going to be our last. We’re going to need a good technician.”

“Also with how much you get hurt we need someone with medical knowledge,” Ren said, ignoring Jaune’s indignant protest. “Face it, dude. You’re danger-prone.”

Jaune frowned and muttered, “It’s not that bad.”

“Even when we were kids, you couldn’t stop going into the hospital,” Ren said. “And it didn’t stop when you went off to the GAAP Academy, either.”

“I didn’t say I was against having a doctor,” Jaune said, still frowning. “It’s still a good idea.”

Nora and Oscar walked up just as Jaune finished speaking. Oscar was nervously tapping his foot and his hands. Nora was giving Jaune and Ren a Cheshire grin.

“We’re both on board. That offer still open?” Nora asked, still smiling.

“We’ll help you get your things from the bar,” Ren said, taking Nora’s hand and shaking it. “Welcome aboard the Berry.”

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: knife mention (pocket knife), general anxiety

Pairings: Eventual Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~3.2k

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Moving In

Patton Picani stared out the car window as they drove through their new town. He was careful to keep his excitement down so that he wouldn’t wake up his sleeping brother. He’d been so nervous about moving that he hadn’t slept at all the previous night, only to pass out as soon as they’d gotten in the car.

The moving van was leading their way through town. Patton could see a few kids his age looking at the van, probably wondering who the new people were. He hoped they were friendly!

“What do you think, Pat?” His dad asked from the front seat.

“I like this place.” Patton’s glasses clinked against the window as he pressed his face against it. “It’s a lot smaller than Elmville.”

“Hopefully it’s easier for V.”

There was some shifting in the seat backseat as Virgil finally woke up. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, panicking as he realized he was in the car.

Patton quickly reached over, grabbing his hand and rubbing soothing circles into the skin. “It’s okay V. It’s moving day, remember?”

There was only a slight release of tension in his shoulders. With the hand Patton wasn’t holding onto, Virgil flipped up his hood.

Shortly after, Emile pulled into the driveway of their house. The moving van parked by the curb and a few workers hopped out, heading for the back.

“You boys ready to work?” Emile asked as the three of them got out of the car.

They both nodded, Patton clearly more excited than Virgil.

Grabbing the boxes labelled ‘kitchen’, Emile set them on their island. “If you boys could get the kitchen set up, that would be a huge help. The movers and I will get the bigger furniture inside, so when you guys are done with that you can set up your rooms. When we’re exhausted, we’ll order some pizza.”

Virgil pulled out his pocket knife, slicing open the tape on the box. He and Patton immediately dug inside as their father left the room.

“What if we don’t like it here?” Virgil asked as they started putting mugs in a cabinet.

Patton pulled their favorites out, leaving them off to the side for later. “I think we will. You were asleep when we came through most of town, but everything is really close. The library is only a few blocks from here, we could walk to it every day. And there’s a cafe right across from it in case we get hungry.”

Virgil nodded, but Patton could tell he wasn’t convinced. He had that look in his eye that he got when he was worried about something, but he didn’t want to talk about it.

Instead of pressing the issue, Patton slid over the next box. “Can you open that one?”

The two quickly formed a rhythm. Virgil would open the box and decide where the items went. Patton would start emptying it as Virgil moved to the next box. When Patton could no longer reach, Virgil would take over, his few extra inches allowing him to just reach the top shelves in the cabinets.

It took them all morning to completely unpack the kitchen. The refrigerator was still empty, but all of their dishes were now in their proper places, as well as the cleaning supplies under the sink.

After stacking the boxes, they started looking for their dad.

“All done already?” He asked when they found him in the master bedroom. “I knew I picked the right ones for the job.”

“This is the last of it.” One of the movers said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Emile immediately grabbed his wallet. “Let me walk you out. Boys, you can work on your bedrooms if you like. If you’re too tired, just get out some clothes for tomorrow and throw some sheets on your beds.”

The two boys looked at each other before darting down the hall. They found each of their rooms with ease. Patton had a canopy bed, easily distinguished from Virgil’s more modern bedframe.

“Look at your window seat!” Patton bounced on his toes. “When it rains we can make a blanket fort in here.”

“We definitely have enough materials for that.” Virgil said, a small smile starting to form. “You have direct view of the driveway, Pat.”

“Good! I’ll know if any of our friends come over.”

Virgil sat on his window seat, wrapping his arms around his legs. “Pat...what if no one wants to be my friend?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Virgil shot his brother a look, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes.

“V, anxiety is something a lot of people have.” Patton sat across from his brother, nothing but truth shining in his eyes as he repeated what he’d heard their dad say a few times. “It’s not something to be ashamed about. And if people don’t like you for that, then it’s their loss because I think you’re awesome.”

The edges of Virgil’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Thanks Pat.”

“Hug?”

Truly smiling now, Virgil slid into his brother’s arms, the pressure calming him down almost immediately.

“Boys?”

“In here!” They called out in unison.

Emile walked in, peering through his glasses at his phone. “What kind of pizza do you want? They have a coupon for two one-topping pizzas and a liter of soda.”

“Pepperoni!”

“Sausage!”

Emile laughed. “Alright, pepperoni and sausage it is. I’ll get some Sprite for all of us, is that okay?”

“Yep!”

While they waited for the pizza, Virgil and Patton did a little bit of unpacking.

Virgil made his bed and grabbed his clothes for the next day, before digging through his boxes and finding his weighted blanket.

Patton did the same, but opted to start putting some of his clothes away.

When they heard the doorbell ring, they both headed downstairs, Virgil wearing his blanket over his shoulders.

Emile took the pizzas and handed them to the boys before giving the delivery driver a generous tip. “Thank you very much.”

“No problem sir.” The driver said, eyes widening at the tip. “Have a nice night.”

“You as well!”

By the time Emile got into the kitchen, Patton and Virgil already had pizza on their plates.

“I don’t have the cable set up yet, but I did set up the router.” Emile said as he grabbed a few slices. “We can watch something on Netflix.”

Patton looked over at Virgil. “Anything in particular you want to watch?”

“Just something relaxing.”

Heading into the living room, Patton grabbed the remote and pulled up The Great British Bake Off. “Is this good?”

“It’s perfect.” Virgil leaned back into their new couch, loving how soft it was. He rearranged his blanket on his shoulders as Patton picked a season to watch.

After finishing their pizza, Emile gathered their plates. Patton roused a nearly asleep Virgil, helping him to his feet.

“C’mon, V, we’ve had a long day.” He started leading his brother to their bedrooms. “Let’s get some rest.”

Half dragging Virgil, Patton got them upstairs. Virgil snuggled closer to him when they got upstairs.

“Did you want to sleep in my room tonight?” Patton whispered.

Virgil nodded, his eyelids drooping again.

“Go put on some pajamas.”

By the time Emile finished cleaning up and checked in on his sons, they were curled up on Patton’s bed. He smiled at their sleeping forms before flicking on the hall light and mostly closing the door.

Knowing the boys were safe and sound, he headed to his room, opting to watch some Parks and Rec on his laptop before he joined his sons in a peaceful slumber.

The next morning, Emile rose bright and early, like he always did. He took a quick shower before deciding to go for a walk around the neighborhood. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, painting the houses in a beautiful golden glow.

As he rounded the corner, he nearly bumped into small woman who had her hair neatly tied up in a ponytail, blonde waves cascading down her back.

“Pardon me!” He said, moving to the side.

Instead of continuing on, she stopped, pulling her headphones out of her ears. “Sorry, I don’t normally run into anyone on my morning walks. This neighborhood is full of night owls. It’s nice to meet another early bird!”

“Same here.” Emile held out a hand. “I’m Emile Picani. My sons and I just moved in.”

“Oh!” The woman shook his hand, flashing him a big smile. “You’re our new neighbors. I’m Juliet Task. My husband and I have a set of triplets. They’re sophomores at the high school.”

Emile couldn’t help but match her happy energy. “My sons will be starting on Monday! They’re freshman.”

“Did you guys need any help unpacking? My husband and I try to keep our Sundays open in case the kids need any homework help, but we could spare a few hours.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

Juliet shook her head, a stern look on her face. “Nonsense! Our last neighbors were shut ins, I’m not allowing that to happen to someone as lovely as you. I’ll even bring over some dessert.”

Emile laughed. “That’s very kind of you, Juliet. You’re welcome at any time. Though my youngest does prefer to sleep in, and he’s had a bit of a rough move.”

“Poor thing.” Juliet put an earbud back in. “I’ll see you in a little while!”

“See you!”

Emile finished his walk, finding Patton in the kitchen when he came back in.

“I forgot we didn’t have anything in the fridge.” He said, his stomach punctuating the sentence with a growl.

Grabbing his keys, Emile said, “I’ll run to the store and grab some eggs and bread right now. Let Virgil know where I went if he wakes up, but I’ll be back in about five minutes.”

Patton headed back upstairs. He quietly unpacked a few more boxes, doing his best to not wake Virgil up.

The silence was ruined when he dropped a box on his foot and let out a yelp.

“Pat?” Virgil mumbled as he sat up. His normally straightened hair had started to curl overnight, pulling up and away from his eyes. “You okay?”

Patton opened the flaps of the box. “I’m fine! Just clumsy. Oh! Virgil, look!”

Patton pulled a small trophy out of the box. Virgil couldn’t help but smile, remembering how happy Patton had been when he’d gotten a trophy for ‘cutest smile’ in the fourth grade. Their whole class had voted, and since the winner had been unanimous, the teacher had bought a trophy. Of course, that had set off a whole slew of angry parents, but Patton didn’t know that.

In fact, Virgil only knew that because he’d come to class early, anxious about being late, and had overheard the teacher on the phone. He’d never told Patton, knowing it would crush his spirit.

The two of them perked up as they heard the front door open, darting downstairs. Emile set the bag down on the kitchen counter, pulling out a carton of eggs, a loaf of bread, and a small package of bacon.

“I’ll go grocery shopping a little later, but I figure we can have this for breakfast and some leftover pizza for lunch.”

“Okay!”

Patton grabbed a frying pan off of their rack, twisting the knob on the stove to get the heat going. Virgil started peeling apart the bacon and getting it in the microwave. They’d had a few issues with cooking bacon in the pan before. After that, they agreed that it was safer to cook it in the microwave.

Emile threw some bread in the toaster, not pushing the levers down until Patton cracked the first egg.

Working in tandem, they got breakfast on the table. Each of them grabbed their plate, moving to the dining room table for this meal.

“So, I ran into a neighbor this morning on my walk.” Emile started, smearing butter on his toast. “She said she lives right next door to us, and offered to help us unpack some things. Her name is Juliet and she’s very nice.”

“Juliet is such a pretty name!” Patton took a bite of his bacon.

“Are you going to be alright if she brings her family over, Virgil?” Emile asked, looking at his younger son. “I can always tell her that you’re sleeping.”

Virgil chewed on his lower lip for a second. “Her whole family?”

“Yes, she talked about bringing over her husband and her triplets. But if you’re not going to feel comfortable -”

“I think I’ll be okay.” Virgil said, spreading the egg yolk around his plate. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

Almost as soon as the three of them had finished and cleaned up their breakfast, the doorbell rang. Emile opened it up, feeling his sons behind him.

Once more a pair of sparkling blue eyes shone up at him. “Is it too early?”

“Never.” Emile said, waving a hand. Virgil and Patton moved out of the way as the Task family entered the house.

A bigger man with dark skin who stood tall, compared to his tiny wife, held out a hand. “Brad Task. Juliet came home absolutely gushing about the polite new neighbor.”

As the adults got acquainted, Patton and Virgil had led the triplets into the living room.

The triplets all shared the same wavy black hair and green eyes, which made it harder to tell them apart.

“I’m Tanya!” One of them said, her grin showing off her dimples. “That’s Ted and that’s Trevor. Trevor is the one with the birthmark in case you need to tell them apart.”

“Nice to meet you guys!” Patton wiggled in place. “I’m Patton, and that’s Virgil. We’re twins!”

Virgil nodded, beside Patton, doing his best to look inviting.

Tanya tilted her head, looking at Virgil. “I like your hoodie. It looks really comfy.”

“It is.” Virgil flipped the hood up, anxiety getting the better of him. “It’s starting to get some holes in it though.”

“I could help!” Ted offered. “My mom’s been teaching me a little bit of sewing. She said that since I keep putting holes in my clothes, I should learn how to stitch them up.”

As the kids bonded in the living room, the adults walked in and started unpacking. Brad helped Emile get the cable set up while Juliet got the kids to help her unpack all the knick knacks.

“This is such a cute photo.” Juliet said, holding up a photo in a silver frame.

Patton and Virgil exchanged a quick look, before Patton spoke up. “That was taken just after we were born.”

“Where’s your mom now?” Tanya asked, before she covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry, that was - you don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it’s okay.” Emile said as he walked over. “Their mom was a wonderful person. Unfortunately, she passed away not long after the boys were born. There had been some complications during the birth and the doctors didn’t catch them in time.”

Tears shone in Emile’s eyes as he spoke. Patton and Virgil hugged him tightly.

“Do you miss her?” Trevor asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Emile nodded, taking in a deep breath. “Every day. But I know she’s watching over us, and that she’d want me to keep living life to the fullest.”

“That’s a very positive attitude to have.” Brad said, wrapping his arms around his wife and kissing the top of her head.

One slightly awkward silence later, they continued unpacking.

With the help of the Tasks, the Picanis had a functioning home in no time at all. The only boxes left to unpack were sitting in each of their bedrooms.

“I think it’s time for a break.” Juliet said as Brad and Emile came back in from recycling the boxes. “Who wants some chocolate cake?”

“ME!” The kids all shouted.

“That sounds delicious!”

Brad grinned at his wife. “She makes the absolute best desserts. I guess that’s why I’m a little more like Santa.”

“If that makes me Mrs. Claus, then I’m all for it.” She said, going up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.

The triplets rolled their eyes in unison, making Patton giggle. Trevor leaned over to them. “They do this all the time and it’s so gross.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Tanya said. “But it is a bit gross.”

“Oh, hush.” Juliet walked over, grabbing a knife from Emile and slicing up the cake. “You’ll feel the same way when you’re older about a lucky guy.”

“Or girl.” Brad added on. “Or person. Whoever you end up with is going to be lucky to have you.”

“What if I want to be a cat lady?” Tanya asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Then we’ll love you just the same.”

Emile couldn’t help himself. “Awww, that’s sweet. And it’s great that you’re so accepting. Our last place we lived in wasn’t as...accommodating.”

Juliet’s happy smile vanished. “There’s still a few people in town who aren’t as open minded, but for the most part, the whole town is working on our acceptance. More and more of our kids are finding labels that fit them, so a lot of us are making an effort.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Despite Emile’s smile, there was a sadness in his eyes.

Brad and Juliet didn’t press the issue, instead enjoying the rest of the cake. When it was gone, they gathered up the cake pan and the kids.

“Thank you for all the help.”

Brad waved a hand in the air. “It was no problem at all.”

“Did you need the triplets to help your boys to the bus stop in the morning?” Juliet asked, hovering in the entryway.

Virgil’s eyes shot wide. Emile caught the look, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder. “That won’t be necessary, I’ll be taking the boys to school. It’s on my way to the office anyway.”

“No worries!” Juliet waved as she headed out the door after her kids. Brad followed right after, leaving the three of them in a now mostly unpacked, silent house.

Virgil immediately headed up to his room, mumbling something about ‘too much interaction’. Emile let him go, knowing that he needed a cool down before talking to anyone else for a while. Patton headed upstairs as well, hoping to unpack more of his stuff.

Looking at their empty fridge, Emile decided to take a trip to the grocery store. He popped his head upstairs to tell the boys were he was going before heading off.

With a general list of what he needed, as he was mostly getting the basics, he managed to power through the store. Just as he got to the checkout line, a man in a leather jacket stepped in front of him, throwing his items on the counter.

Emile bit his lip to keep from saying anything. After all, he didn’t know anyone but his neighbors. For all he knew, this guy was having a bad day, or maybe one of his kids was sick and he needed to get home quickly.

As the man gathered up his groceries, he finally looked at Emile. “Thanks for letting me cut babes.”

Flushing bright red, Emile was left speechless as the man left the store.

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[aye-write]

Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: If you’re interested in more information, exclusive updates, character art, and teasers for this fic, please consider following its sister tumblr @kildo-pokedex​

*****

Chapter Two

The kitchen was teeming with heat when Isla walked in. Everyone’s eyes flickered towards her, leaving her feeling very much like a prized Miltank on show. Heat crept into her cheeks. She glanced around, trying to find somewhere to let her gaze settle. Skye and Blair were working through plates of pancakes. Kenneth leaned against the countertop sipping black coffee. Rhona had her sleeves rolled up and was tending to something on the stove. Anxiety spiked in her chest. Discounting Nana Morag, she was the last one up.

“Good morning!” Isla said, trying to inject cheer into her voice.

Rhona turned around to face her. “Good morning, chick!”

She was smiling. Good. At least Isla knew she hadn’t committed some unspeakable faux pas before it even turned ten in the morning.

“Have a seat,” Rhona continued. “Do you want tea? Breakfast? It’s just pancakes today, so I hope you like them.”

What kind of world did she live in where home-made pancakes were “just pancakes”? Rhona obviously didn’t get enough appreciation. “I love them! And tea would be grand, thank you.”

“Help yourself, there’s some in the pot.”

A fat teapot sat in the middle of the table with a brown tea cosy pulled around it. Fixed with a pair of floppy wings and a crocheted head, the Pokemon it was supposed to represent looked like a fatter, happier version of Rhona’s Ruchter. Isla sploshed milk into her tea from a jug that looked suspiciously like a Miltank and loaded it with sugar, the first sip sending a pleasant, energising warmth through her.

The tea worked its magic on Isla, but everyone else looked pale and withdrawn, like they’d woken up on low battery. Isla sipped her tea and battled between two impulses that both felt equally rude.

Eventually, she settled on, “Is there anything I can help you with today? Like around the croft or… or anything?”

Blair leant back into his chair and stretched. “It’s all done,” he said. Something in his back popped, the noise like a gun going off.

Isla blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. We start at six.”

“In the morning?”

Everyone stopped. Kenneth’s eyes found Isla’s over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I just didn’t… hear anything.”

“We wouldn’t ask you to help out with anything,” Rhona said kindly. “And we didn’t want to wake you either. Especially with last night’s storm. We’re used to it here, but it can be quite distracting for folks not local.”

Isla had almost forgotten about the storm. The mention sent the image of the child from last night flashing into her head like the sear of a lightbulb. Her fingers tightened around her mug of tea. “Yeah,” she heard her voice waver. “The thunder and lightning were something else.”

Rhona’s eyebrows creased. “Thunder and lightning?”

“Yeah,” Isla said. Then she saw everyone else’s expression. “You guys didn’t hear it? It was like… It was like the world was coming to an end out there.”

They all returned blank looks.

“Well, did you guys notice the power going off?” Isla tried. “About 3am, I think it was.”

“I was asleep,” Skye said, spearing her pancakes and oozing sauce all over the table.

“So was I,” Rhona said, and Kenneth nodded his agreement. Isla was beginning to wonder if that man ever spoke.

Everyone looked at Blair, who bristled under their stares.

“I don’t remember the power going off,” he said, swilling the liquid in his mug. It smelled bitter and strong. Black coffee. No wonder.

“Then you didn’t see the—” Isla stopped herself. What would they think if she told them what she saw? She wasn’t even sure she knew what it was. Something deep inside her told her to hang onto it. At least for now. At least until she could do some further research.

Luckily, her trailing off went unnoticed as Rhona put a plate of pancakes down in front of her. She busied herself adding sugar and a squeeze of lemon as conversation slowly resumed around the kitchen table.

“So what’s on your agenda today, Isla?” Rhona asked, sitting down heavily in the spare chair.

“I’d like to get started on my research,” Isla replied, her mouth full of soft, fluffy pancake. “I brought some books and copies of old script with me, so I’d like to start organising my thoughts and think about what I’d like to tackle first.”

The others nodded politely as Isla explained her plans. Kenneth was the first to leave, dumping his coffee mug in the sink and ducking outside. Isla saw him lumbering towards the field of Wooloo in the distance a few moments later. After that, the rest of the family moved off like falling dominoes, until it was only Rhona and Isla left at the table.

“You’ll need the Wi-Fi password,” Rhona said, tearing off a strip of paper. “You might have a couple of wee connection issues since you’re a bit far away from the router, but you can always come down and work in the living room if you need to. Here,” she handed Isla the paper with the code. “We’ll try keep out of your way. We’ll be out working on the croft for a bit. Skye’s got some work to do in her room, but she should give you peace. Oh, and help yourself to anything you like from the fridge. Lunch will be about 1 o’clock. I’ll shout you down or I can take something up to you if you like?”

“It’s okay, Rhona,” Isla interrupted gently. “You’re doing so much for me at as it is. I’ll come down for lunch. I’ll probably need the distraction,” she paused. “Thank you, Rhona. I mean it.”

“It’s okay, chick. We’re family. That’s what we do.”

With that, Rhona headed out, leaving Isla standing in the kitchen, fighting a lump the size of a walnut in her throat. A minute to compose herself and she turned with renewed determination towards the stairs.

Back in her room, with the door shut against the world, she let out a long, slow sigh. The bedroom wasn’t the best as far as study spaces went. It was pretty small for a start. And like everything else in the house, it was cluttered and claustrophobic. But it was welcomely cool after the humid heat of the kitchen and after taking ten minutes to straighten up her things and clear the desk of all the tat and mess, she was starting to see its potential as a working space.

Isla unearthed her laptop from under a pile of clothes and plugged it in. As it chuntered into life, she released Soba, who curled herself up into a tight ball on the rumpled bedclothes. The WiFi was a bit dodgy as Rhona had fretted, but it was serviceable. As long as it didn’t drop entirely whenever she’d have to have a video call with the university department, she’d be fine.  

For the first ten minutes, she picked between a handful of internet tabs tuned to information she’d found vaguely useful in the initial research stage. Now that she was supposed to actually make sense of it all and turn it into something halfway presentable, it was like her brain had stalled entirely.

No, she told herself. She wouldn’t be beaten. She clicked open a new Word document and started to type.

To Do For Thesis:

Get translations for Kildonian Chessmen texts

Interview locals about legends

Find, research, and visit rumoured Chessmen resting places

Research divide in Kildonian population (Vitalities?)

 She paused, then added in:

Find out what was in the garden on the night of the storm.

**

A knock at the bedroom door startled her. Soba’s ears pricked up as Isla dragged herself back to reality. What was the time? She glanced at the clock. Nearly midday. Almost three hours had gone by no quicker than a blink as she clicked through research articles and flicked through books.

Scrambling to her feet, she answered the door to Nana Morag’s lined face. She was smiling, in a sort of mischievous way, one side of the mouth curved more upwards than the other.

“Heard you had a little powercut last night,” she said, conspiringly.

“Yeah,” Isla rubbed the back of her neck. “I think it must have skipped the rest of the house though. Or… or maybe it was just my imagination.”

“You think so?”

“I mean, it could have been,” Isla said, half-wondering why she was trying to rationalise it. “I was pretty tired. My mind could have been playing tricks on me.”

“Hm,” Nana Morag didn’t sound convinced. She glanced back down the hallway, before taking a step closer. “Isla, have you heard of Basinish Island?” When Isla shook her head, Nana Morag’s whole face illuminated. “Basinish Island is a small, abandoned island off the coast of Port Glen. About three or four miles…. that direction,” she pointed over Isla’s shoulder, past the window and towards the tracing-paper grey sky. “Legend has it that you can walk there and back from Port Glen on days when the tide goes out. Of course, no-one ever tries. It’s very dangerous.”

“Okay,” Isla said, wondering exactly what Nana Morag was getting at. “What does this have to do with—”

“There’s rumours that Voltean – the Electric Vitality – lives out that way. Of course, it’s never been proven,” she said, in an off-hand way like she was telling Isla the brands of cereal in the cupboards. “But I thought you might like to read about them in this.”

Nana Morag pressed a thick hardback book into Isla’s hands.

“This is an old text,” Nana Morag continued. “There are some newer edits now, but I think you still might find it relevant. Especially for your research. It’s translated, so it might read a little funny. But there should be plenty there to keep you occupied.”

Isla looked through the book in awe. Pages of intricate illustrations and small, looped writing teased her from within. She could barely get her words out to thank Nana Morag. Soba purred and chirruped from the bed in appreciation.

“Nana Morag, thank you so much. I’ll take really good care of it. I promise.”

“Not to worry, Isla. You seem to have your head screwed on tight. If there’s anything in there you need some help with decoding, you let me know and I’ll try and help.”

“That would be wonderful. I was actually wondering if I could ask another favour of you,” Isla said, feeling opportunity shoulder its way in. “I have some old translations about the Kildonian Chessmen and I need some help translating them. Could you help?”

“I can do one better,” Nana Morag said. “Come along to my class this afternoon. I teach the young ones how to read and write the old language. I find there’s so much more meaning in having done the work myself. Don’t you agree?”

The expectation trickled down Isla’s back like a sliver of ice. Would she have the time to learn for something like that? Surely it would only take a couple of hours, tops, for someone to translate the documents rather than possible weeks to learn even the basics of an entire ancient language? It didn’t seem like a good trade off. But Nana Morag had already been so kind to her. And there was no telling how she’d react if she refused. Maybe if she showed willing now, Nana Morag would be more flexible later.

Isla clutched the book to her chest. “When does it start?”

“I’ll be leaving now,” Nana Morag said, her eyes gleaming.

“Alright,” Isla nodded. “I’m with you.”

**

Nana Morag lead Isla towards a small community centre, off a narrow lane from the high street. The whole area was residential, cluttered with redbrick terraces and full of people going around their daily business even with the biting wind and the overhanging threat of rain. Nana Morag was stopped nearly a dozen times by passers-by, each one making the same guarded enquiries about Isla, wondering who she “belonged to”. Isla couldn’t tell if they were pleased or not when Nana Morag explained they were family.

The classroom was perfect for children, bright, colourful, and visually appealing, but its cheery theme did little to soften the sharp edges of anxiety in Isla’s stomach. It spiked even more when she sat down, on a too-small chair that creaked every time she even considered moving.

Nana Morag didn’t call attention to Isla when the children came in for her class, which she was eternally grateful for. Along with the rest of the children, she was given an easy-reader book in Old Kildonian, a language heavy with vowels and punctuated with strange looping symbols. There was also a sheet of paper, typed in large print, with what looked like an alphabet and a few short words paired with an English equivalent. Isla stared at them until her eyes went blurry. She couldn’t even figure out how to make her mouth contort itself to make those noises. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

The words were simple. Too simple. Words for “Mum”, “Dad”, “good”, “nice”, “friend”, and other twee phrases ran through her head. Not even a full sentence. Not even “Mum is nice”, “my friend is good”, just words, scattered over the page as if they were plucked from the ether. How would this help her? How could she translate complicated archaic documents with these basics?

The class hadn’t even started yet. Nana Morag was still talking to a parent while the children shouted and ran around the tables, obviously too overstimulated even before the lesson began. And Isla was spiralling. She could feel it percolating within her. As her breath raced out, she tried to clear her head.

This wouldn’t do. It couldn’t. Even if she attended one of these classes every day for a month, she’d be nowhere near ready to decode the Chessmen documents herself. She didn’t have that time to waste. The exhibition in Hydrogate opened in three weeks and she still had most of the region to see. Places to go. People to interview. Legends to find. She just couldn’t do it.

A blip pinged her phone, making her jump. While Nana Morag’s back was turned, still in conversation, Isla slid it out of her pocket and looked at it under the table.

Isla,

The Anthropology Department is concerned that you have not yet been in touch to update on your project. As such, we are writing to inform you that we have arranged a video conference with you at 1pm Johto Standard Time in two days’ time. Please follow the link below to attend your slot.

The department would like you to prepare a short presentation to highlight your progress as part of the video conference.

Please also remember you must submit proof of your passage to the Kildo region as evidence.

Regards,

           Prof F. S. Gardener

Isla could only stare numbly at the email for the first few minutes. Slowly, heat crept into her face. Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. How dare they? How dare they talk to her like that? The condescending attitude dripped off the words like hot grease from a searing grill. They wanted a presentation? In two days? It couldn’t be done.

At least, not while she allowed her time to be wasted.

**

Nana Morag looked disappointed, but said she understood when Isla explained that something had come up that meant she had to leave early. It didn’t make her feel better.

Outside the community centre, she sat on the nearest bench and took large lungfuls of crisp, cool air until the anger and anxiety gurgling in her stomach finally ebbed away. She cast a guilty look back at the door. Hopefully Nana Morag would forgive her.

It would take nearly half an hour to walk back to the house. Plenty of time to think about what direction to take the presentation. Even as she thought about it, her mind unspooled ideas. She could look through the book Nana Morag gave her, cite the conversation they’d had about the Vitalities, maybe ask Rhona and the family for any other stories they had. She could do this. She could pull this together. She’d show that professor exactly what she was made of.

Just as she pushed herself to her feet, something thudded to the ground. Isla froze, her concentration shattered. Her hand sought the familiar Pokeball hanging at her waist and she rolled her fingertips across its keenly smoothed surface. Something crept into the corner of her peripheral vision. A dull, murky, red-brown shape, a rusted stain on the greenery encroaching the community centre. Her stomach tightened. Nausea crept up her throat and she had to fight a sudden, violent urge to vomit.

When the nausea passed, and the world faded back in, a noise trembled through the earth under her feet. A low rumbling whinny followed by the steady, echoing beat of hooves.

 Isla called Soba out. It was an unwelcome return to reality. She was in a new region with strange new Pokemon and she hadn’t even taken five minutes to look at the kinds of creatures that lived in the area. If there was something there that could hurt her, then she was playing a dangerous game. Could she even defend herself?

She should ignore it, she reasoned. Ignore it and head back to the croft. Wild Pokemon attacks on humans weren’t common, especially in fairly urban areas, but something still spurred her into action. Sweat stood out on her brow as she circled the Community Centre, Soba in pursuit.

There was nothing there. No people. No Pokemon. The only thing that stood out was a patch of disturbed grass by the window that looked into Nana Morag’s classroom. A line of hoofprints sunk into the long, leafy fronds, each one fringed with thin purple liquid. .

Soba coughed and retched.

“Easy, girl,” Isla returned Soba to her Pokeball. The last thing she needed was for her only Pokemon to become unwell. That would just be the rotten cherry on the top of the already disgusting cake.

She took one last cautionary glance around the area. Leaves trembled in the trees. Cars sloped down the road. Children played in a park down the street, their voices carrying over a thin, brisk wind.

When she looked down at the prints again, the strange liquid was gone.

**

Back at home, Isla shut herself back in the tiny room, opened her laptop, and focused. Hours fell away. Daylight morphed into darkness. All Isla knew was the tapping of keys and the pages of books stiff with bookmarks and post-it notes.

She was turning over into a new chapter – The Shifting Traditions – when her stomach gurgled, lifting her out of her study induced stupor. What time was it? It had gotten dark without her even noticing. She groped for the desk light and clicked it on, the room touched by a jaundiced yellow light.

The clock flashed back; 18:47.

She didn’t want to seem presumptuous. Running a croft with only a few family members must have been tough. She could imagine it was the kind of work that never had a clear end goal, that there was always something that needed done. And she’d only been here a full day. She didn’t know their routines yet. Maybe they were a late dinner type of family. And she definitely didn’t want to pressure anyone. But it was very late now. She hadn’t eaten any lunch. And there hadn’t been any noises in the house for hours.

Downstairs, every room was draped in darkness. Isla felt around for the light switches, but the unfamiliar walls wouldn’t give up their secrets, and she clattering through the house like a particularly ungraceful Hippopotas. It confirmed one thing. There was nobody home.

Panic rose in her chest as she picked her way towards the windows, hoping that she could let some light in via the curtains. I

With a bang, the door opened, bounced off the wall, and light spilled into the room. Rhona stood in the hallway, shelling herself from a puffy jacket.

“Rhona?” Isla squeaked.

“Oh, gosh! Isla!” Rhona’s hand flew to her chest, her skin translucent. “Chick, why were you standing there in the dark?”

“I couldn’t find the light switch,” she said lamely. “I’d been upstairs, and I got a bit worried I hadn’t heard anything down here for a while.”

“Oh, God. You didn’t get the message?”

“What message?”

“Kenneth sent Drambark to the house with it,” Rhona said, hanging up her coat.

Isla wasn’t sure exactly what a Drambark was, but she didn’t think now was the right time to ask. “I didn’t get anything, sorry. What’s happened?”

“It’s Nana Morag, chick. She came over very ill just before she finished her class. She was taken to hospital.”

“Hospital?!” Isla gasped.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, but she’s okay, she’s stable and responsive. They’re keeping her in overnight, but I think it’s just as a precaution.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“They don’t know yet. They were running tests when I left.”

“I’m sorry, I…” Isla stammered. “I should have stayed with her.”

The look in Rhona’s eyes became sharp and probing. “Yes, why did you leave? I thought you wanted to learn about the language.”

“I do, but…” Isla heaved a sigh. “I got an email from my course supervisor when I was in the class telling me I have to do a presentation for them. In two days. About the progress I’ve made in the project. And I haven’t… I haven’t had much progress yet because I’ve only just got here. So I panicked and came back here to start working on that immediately because… well, if I don’t jump through their hoops, they’ll pull approval on the project.”

Rhona nodded the whole time Isla spoke. “Och, chick, maybe it’s for the better that you didn’t stay.”

Isla frowned. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t just Nana Morag who became ill. Everyone attending that class did.”

[overdrivels]

@romancedeldiablo just reminded me the entire cybersecurity/information security industry is having the greatest field days ever since this whole Covid-19 triggered a mass work from home exodus.

I have so much to say about it and all the security issues that are occurring. This mostly pertains to the US. This isn��t meant to scare anyone, they’re just food for thought and a bit of explanation about my industry.

PSA: Not all hackers are bad, just a reminder. There are very legitimate reasons for hacking such as compliance and research. When I talk about hackers here, I’m talking about the bad ones who are exploiting without permission and for malicious reasons.

The main thing about this whole working from home thing is that most organizations don’t have the infrastructure to support their entire workforce. Not every company uses Google Drive or OneDrive or DropBox.

This means that companies with on-premise servers, isolated servers or networks are screwed. Imagine trying to connect to your friend’s computer who lives on the other side of the world and controlling their mouse. Can’t do it. Gotta download something on both ends to do it. Now imagine that for 500 people at home who are trying to connect to a single server. You’d need to open that server/network up to the internet. That has its own risks because without controlling WHO can access the server, you’re basically allowing anyone (hackers especially) to go in and take all your data.

But then you ask, “Isn’t that what passwords are for?” BITCH look at your own passwords. Do you really think 500 people will have passwords strong enough to withstand a rainbow table attack or that the server won’t shit itself when receiving 500 connections from unknown locations by means of a not-often used method? Hackers only need to exploit one password (for the most part) while the company needs to ensure ALL 500 are protected. That’s difficult as all hell and if it were that easy, I wouldn’t have a job.

Then there’s shit like Virtual Private Networks (VPNs) and RADIUS servers that’ll secure the network connection so it can’t be hijacked and do authentication respectively. Here’s the problem. VPN solutions need to be downloaded on the client system (your computer). When your organization has very technically illiterate people, that becomes a nightmare. ‘Cause you have to set up their accounts on the VPN system and set the permissions for each of them so they can only access what they’re allowed to access otherwise Bob from sales now has access to the HR system with everyone’s social security numbers. It’s very time consuming and can get very complicated. Even worse is that VPNs often require licenses. When you only have 50 licenses and suddenly 500 people want access, you’re screwed. But you can always purchase more licenses, no problem. Here’s the rub. Suddenly, this VPN tunnel needs to accept connections from 500 people. This tunnel is only strong enough to accept 50 concurrent sessions. When 10x that amount get on, guess what? The tunnel shits itself and basically the company has DoS’d itself. Now no one can get any work done until IT figures out how to get 500 people on a system that’s only capable of supporting 50.

Fuck, almost forgot about RADIUS. There’s DIAMETER, too, but shut up about it. It’s an authentication system but depending on how it’s set up, you’ll have to also set up the users. That’s an extra step and it’s a pain in the ass if RADIUS somehow isn’t connected to AD and the user has different passwords and shit.

Not to mention hackers suddenly gaining access to all this information because they’ve already infected people’s home computers and routers prior to the work from home stuff. There’s very limited way for IT to control what happens on a personal computer, so these personal computers can have no anti-virus or security software. This means all data is in danger because someone decided Windows Defender is annoying. (Windows Defender is pretty great, btw.)

Physical robberies are occurring a little more because there’s no one to protect the stores and such. Physical security is taking a hell of a beating.

There’s been an increase in phishing scams around COVID-19. Unemployment sites are probably being (and probably already have been) hacked and the data is being stolen. I think there were some people who were creating fake unemployment sites to steal PII. There are e-mails going out to people saying stuff like, “Your computer has been infected with the CORONAVIRUS. Click here to clean it up.” And you’re wondering, “What sort of morons…?” Don’t. It’s very easy to give in to your panic. Hackers don’t hack computers solely. They hack into human emotion, into the psyche. Anyone can fall for their shit.

The thing with Zoom? Basically they’re so insecure, people are hacking them without issue. How? Because people are silly and put out links, chat logs are saved onto insecure machines that have already been hacked, there are a bunch of exploits available for Zoom, etc.

Healthcare organizations. Oh boy. So, we all know healthcare organizations are working their damnedest to save people suffering from COVID-19. Every second counts and any delay in that process could mean life or death. They work hard. Here’s the thing. There has always been a delicate balance between security and usability. Too secure and it’ll make it difficult for the end user to do their job. Usable without security just makes it easier for an attacker to do their job. Why am I talking about this?

Healthcare organizations usually hold sensitive information. Health information. Social security numbers. Birth dates. Addresses. Insurance information. Family member information. So much stuff. They are a beautiful target for hackers because all that shit is right there and it’s accessible. Healthcare organizations, by and large, do not put a lot of emphasis on security. That’s changing a bit, but for the most part, the don’t care about security. They do the bare minimum because guess what? Every additional control can add time to a doctor or healthcare worker’s routine. Computer lockscreen every 5 minutes? Now the doctor has to re-logon every 5 minutes. This adds about 15 seconds to their rountine. Multiply that several times over for every patient that comes in assuming a doctor will need to log in at least 3 times during a single visit. That can clock in at at least an hour throughout the day. A hour that they could’ve spent doing something else. So imagine more controls. Password needs to be reset. Need to badge in. Log into this extra program to access this file. Call IT because this thing locked them out. Each one of these normal controls now feel insanely restrictive. The ease of use isn’t there and so organizations might look at reversing these security controls, potentially making things even less secure than before in the name of efficiency.

Don’t @ me about HIPAA. I will start rants about how non-prescriptive and ineffective it is to actually get proper security implemented.

LOL @ internet service providers. Internet speeds are dropping due to the amount of traffic they’re getting. Commercial internet really wasn’t prepared for this. Those poor bastards.

Some organizations outsource their IT teams. Those people (Managed Service Providers aka MSPs) are not prepared for this nonsense. It’s popular now to go after these guys for hacking. An MSP usually works for multiple organizations. So, why try going after 50 organizations individually when you have just one organization with poor security controls managing everything from one place? You’d logically go after the one rather than 50. It’s easier.

MSPs are now overworked because they also have to work from home to connect to systems that can’t support so many people connecting to it on personal computers that the MSP can’t log into like they normally would to fix any issues. This makes them tired. What happens when you’re tired? You make more mistakes. And that’s exactly what hackers go after. Once they’re in the MSP’s system, the hacker can now potentially gain access to the 50 clients’ systems. Easy win.

Shadow IT and alternate solutions. This is another doozy. Imagine all your files and shit are on your company’s network. No one is able to access it because there isn’t any VPN or remote sharing system or FTP server set up for this stuff, but you still need to do your job. So, what do you do? Obviously, you start making stuff on your own computer using whatever you’re comfortable with. Google Drive. Dropbox. Box. Slack. That shitty PDF reader you downloaded three years ago and didn’t update.

Now imagine sharing it through things like your personal e-mail which may or may not have been hacked without your knowledge. Or maybe the recipient’s been hacked without anyone’s knowledge. Maybe your files are normally encrypted if they’re on the company network. Now you’re off of it and nothing’s encrypted. Maybe you forget it delete a file or 80 off of your system which has been infected. Or maybe you pasted shit on pastebin or github and it’s available to the public because that’s just easier. Now anyone searching can find it. This is how database dumps are found sometimes and they’re really entertaining.

Shadow IT putting in alternate solutions without the company’s knowledge is always a fucking nightmare. I get that people need to do their jobs and want to do things a certain way, but can you not be selfish and put everyone at risk because you decided your way or the high way?

That sounds awfully familiar…it feels like a situation that we’re going through right now…hey, wait a minute…

Long story short, this whole working from home thing opens up a lot of security issues. Most companies are ill-equipped to handle IT issues, let alone cybersecurity/information security/IT security issues, but because of that, we’re seeing a lot of interesting things happening. Such as finding out New Jersey’s unemployment system runs on a 60+ year old programming language.

Holy shit I can talk about this all day. I’ve definitely glossed over a lot of stuff and oversimplified it. If anyone wants me to talk about any specific topic related to this or cybersecurity or information security in general, drop an ask. I’m always, always more than happy to talk about it.

[nightingaletrash]

Part 2 to this drabble, because I wanted to follow up on it real bad.

---

Dying never got easier. 

Sara gently probed her mottled skin and winced as a jolt of pain shot through her collarbone. The bruising had blossomed across the left side of her chest and even crept over to the right; it looked more like she had been beaten down in a boxing ring rather than laid on the ground for several minutes.

But it just seemed to be how her body was coping with the stress of her systems forcefully shutting down and starting up. Perhaps it wasn’t the most grim reminder of her brushes with death, but it wasn’t a pleasant one either.

So she pulled her underarmour back up and tried to ignore the deep-rooted aching in her chest as she rose to her feet and began to pace the length of her room.

Ordinarily, she’d have leapt at the chance to change into something soft and loose, but given the current situation, she couldn’t afford the illusion of rest. Not with the Hyperion in Kett hands.

Her gut twisted horribly. Casey and their father had both been on the Hyperion when the Kett took it, and SAM’s router was dark and silent on her desk. An eerie reminder of what the Archon now held in his hands. 

She’d successfully rallied her team, convinced them to stand ready to fight for Meridian, and they were working on rallying the rest of the cluster behind them, but even now she had her doubts.

How many would answer the call? 

She dragged a hand through her hair and sucked air in through her teeth. Another pang of pain rang through her chest. 

Wincing again, she dropped down onto the sofa. If she was going to fight against the Archon, she needed to rest, or else it would be one hell of a gauntlet. Well, it would already be a hell of a gauntlet, but a sore chest would make it much worse. The less time she spent wincing over some bruising, the better off she’d be.

Yet she just couldn’t bring herself to relax. There was so much that needed doing, and it felt wrong that she wasn’t taking part. Everyone else was either prepping the Tempest and the Remnant for action, or were on non-stop calls across the cluster, spreading the word and trying to gather as many people as possible for the fight.

And here was Sara, sitting on a sofa and itching to do anything but rest. Yet if she tried doing anything to help, Lexi would undoubtedly skin her alive.

“You need rest,” she’d said in that stern, mothering tone of her’s. “Now go lie down or I’ll strap you to a gurney.”

There wasn’t a doubt in Sara’s mind that the threat had been completely serious, so she had retreated to her quarters and proceeded to do anything that even remotely resembled resting. All she’d done was pace and fret and fear that she had led the cluster to a point of no-return because she had done nothing but push forward. 

Right into the Archon’s hands.

She looked up at the brief rap on her door. It opened before she even got the chance to reply, and she half-expected it to be Lexi coming in to check that she really was taking the opportunity to rest.

“Sara.”

Her heart leapt, and she had to do a double-take to be certain that- yes, Reyes Vidal, in the flesh, had just walked into her room.

His hair was ruffled and messy, and he looked exhausted and strained with worry, as if he’d been running on empty for hours. Just like how she felt to be perfectly honest.

As he started to cross the room, Sara leapt to her feet, not pausing to think, and met him halfway. Her arms automatically wrapped around his middle as his folded around her in a fierce, warm embrace. She felt his nose press into the crook between her shoulder and neck, and he took a deep shuddering breath. Like he was reassuring himself that she was real.

She just buried her face into his chest, taking reassurance in his warmth. Even now she could feel the tension leaving him, the muscles in his back uncoiling beneath her fingers, and she could feel him melting into her, warm and steady and something holding her tightly and gently at the same time.

It felt like weeks since she’d last felt this safe. Enveloped in him, the rest of the world just ceased to be, and what she wouldn’t give to indulge in this feeling more. It was hard to justify travelling to Kadara more than was needed, but getting to steal even a few minutes of time with him was worth the occasional eye roll.

But then it clicked in her brain why all of this seemed so strange.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, unable to keep the trembling note out of her voice.

“Keema told me about the Hyperion,” he replied. “I tried to call. Couldn’t get through. So I called Lexi. She told me you were-”

He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath and pressed his lips to her neck. She didn’t need to hear the rest. It was clear enough.

“I’m okay. I’m here, Reyes.”

She ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it out, and kissed him on the hollow of his jaw, as if to prove it, and his teeth grazed her skin as he pulled back.

“I know. But you weren’t, and that scared the shit out of me Sara,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His eyes met her’s - green flecked with gold met dark brown - and she could see it in his eyes. Not knowing if she was alive, not knowing if she’d come back from it this time, and not being able to do anything about it except wait for news… It had terrified him. 

The only time she could think of when she had seen him scared was when she’d learned the truth of his identity as the Charlatan. 

“I liked the way you looked at me. I was afraid that would change.”

That fear was like a flickering candle compared to this one. This fear had driven him to fly lightyears in search of the Tempest just to reassure himself that she was still alive. Something about knowing that - seeing him like this - made her heart feel tight. Not quite fear, not quite relief. It was a cocktail of emotions she couldn’t really explain in one go. Too intense. Too messy.

All she really knew was that this was the only place she wanted to be right now.

She reached behind her and removed one of his hands from her back, and gently led it to her chest. She rested it over her heart, laced her fingers over his and touched her forehead to his, keeping her eyes locked on his.

“I’m here,” she repeated softly. “We both are. That’s all that matters right now.”

“And what about next time?” he whispered. “Or the time after that? How do I know you’re always coming back?”

“Because I’ll fight for it.”

They held eye contact for a few moments, the words slowly sinking in, before Reyes finally broke it. He swooped down, kissing her hard on the mouth as he cradled her jaw, and Sara couldn’t help but melt into the contact, hands grasping at his shoulders as she kissed back. He tangled a hand in her hair and gently tugged. She groaned, and he kissed harder before stepping back, leading her in step across the room.

She barely even realised what was happening when they were suddenly falling onto the bed, still firmly pressed together. Her leg instinctually wrapped around his waist and she pressed her body against his firmly as her hands trailed down his chest, and while the sensible part of her brain told her that this wasn’t a good idea right now - Lexi would definitely have her hide for it - the need to be as close to Reyes as possible was overriding sense.

Reyes, however, sided with sense.

“Easy there, Pathfinder,” he chuckled, breaking the kiss. “Lexi wouldn’t even let me on board until I swore to make sure that you got some rest.”

Sara huffed and proceeded to kiss his neck while fingering the waistline of his trousers, which only served to make him laugh. He cupped her chin and angled his gaze to meet her’s.

“We both come back from this fight alive, and you’ll have my undivided attention. I promise,” he said with gentle devotion. “For now, let’s get a little shut eye, okay? It’s been a very long day.”

She pouted, but relented and laid beside him. He brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her temple. She curled up and tucked her head under his chin, draping an arm over his waist. He wrapped an arm around her, keeping her close.

As they lay there - and as Sara got over her initial disappointment - her mind turned back to the Hyperion. Were Casey and Alec alright? The Archon needed just one of them for their SAM connection, but keeping one spare would only be an advantage...

Her stomach flipped. It was sick, trying to get into the mind of the Archon, just to figure out if her family was still alive. And it must have shown, because Reyes bumped his forehead against her's, and his eyes were filled with concern.

"Something bothering you?" he asked, petting her hair.

She hesitated, and said, "my dad and brother. They were on the Hyperion. The Archon wanted SAM and their implants."

She worried at her lower lip.

"I'm scared he has them, but if he has them then they're alive. But dad and Casey - they'll fight, which means the Archon will hurt them, and he only needs one of them, and dad was hurt on Habitat 7 and, and Casey only came out of his coma a little while ago and-"

It came out in a cascade and Reyes held her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder. With every word the reality hit harder. The last members of her family, the only ones who had come with her to Andromeda, were likely in the hands of an alien hellbent on destroying them all and didn't care a jot for the suffering he inflicted, provided he got what he wanted.

"We'll get them back Sara," Reyes said firmly. Then he grinned down at her. "After all. They can't give me the shovel-talk if I help you save them."

She managed a small, wet laugh.

"Dad'll do it out of principle. And Casey? He'll just be mad that I got here first." She grinned in spite of herself. "If anything, I'm the one who'll get shovel-talked."

"Well at least I've got someone to do it on my behalf," he joked.

They shifted closer, legs tangling together, Reyes' nose buried in her hair, and Sara finally began to feel the weight of exhaustion creeping up on her. Her chest was still sore, and her family felt so faraway, but it was reassuring to know that, even if the call-to-arms went unanswered, she wouldn't be facing the Archon alone. She still had people she loved and cared about ready to stand at her side and fight alongside her.

"I love you," she murmured as she drifted off to sleep, engulfed in warmth and safety that she had only ever associated with Kadara.

She was conscious just long enough to hear the murmured reply.

"I love you too."

[writinginstardust]

An Unexpected Christmas

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x reader

Prompt(s):  my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry

Warnings: pretty sure there’s some swearing

A/N: Thanks to @writingbychelle for requesting this prompt! As you can tell by the word count, I had a lot of fun with this one and got very carried away.

Word Count: 3484

*

The White House Christmas party could either be the most entertaining or dullest event of the year and it was in full swing right now. Fortunately this year it was erring on the side of entertaining, mostly due to the increased presence of people my own age. The White House trio in particular. They were respectable - you had to be - but by god were they good at livening up a bunch of boring politicians. The ones that needed a little livening anyway. Some, I knew, could do it on their own.

Alex, June, and Nora. I envied them sometimes. They always had each other and they positively shone in the spotlight, unlike me. I tended to slide into the background alone and for the most part I didn’t mind. I’d been dragged to these things for half my life, one or both of my parents having held high offices since Obama was first elected, and for most of those years there’d been no one my own age I’d really managed to make friends with. I’d always been alone at parties and desperately tried to hide from anyone who wanted to engage in any sort of political discussion or ask about my future. Which was just about everyone. 

I knew my parents ambitions for me, everyone did. And they all would have assumed whether my parents had said a thing or not. But that was never what I wanted. It came as quite a shock when word got out that I was going to Georgetown to study art with a minor in creative writing. It’s funny. Maybe if I’d followed in my parents’ footsteps I’d actually be friends with Alex and not alone at this party.

It’s not as though I never spoke to any of them, we saw each other constantly at state functions where there generally weren’t many other young people to talk to since we were usually the only ones living in DC, but I knew I wasn’t exactly their first port of call for entertainment. They had each other and I had a 10 year old coping mechanism. And that was fine. It was all very fine. I was used to it. I just kind of wished things were different.

“(Y/N)!” June’s voice drew my attention and she beckoned me over to where she was talking to Nora and Alex. 

“Hey,” I offered them all a smile when I reached them, noticing that June and Nora both looked way too pleased and Alex ever so slightly uncomfortable. Huh, that was odd.

“Enjoying the party?”

“It’s one of the better ones I’ve been to. Half the interns are already drunk as are the Attorney General and Defence Secretary and I heard someone mention karaoke so hopefully it will be spectacular.”

“Karaoke?” Nora asked in surprise.

“Yep. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I have a lot of questions.”

“And I have a lot I could tell you.”

“Not right now though.” June interrupted. Alex, surprisingly, hadn’t said anything yet. That was weird. 

“You’re right. Ask her then,” Nora prompted. I looked back at June expectantly.

“Mom heard that you’re not going away with your parents for Christmas?”

“Unfortunately not. They get to enjoy the Bahamas and I’m stuck slaving over an assignment.” Normally I wouldn’t mind but my art professor had been in a rather cruel mood and set the class a 10,000 word paper and a large scale practical project right before Christmas break. All because someone laughed when he tripped on the way into class.

“Well, she wants to invite you to spend Christmas with us instead so you’re not all on your own. Unless you already made other plans, that is.”

“No...I, uh, had nothing planned.” Surprised at the invitation, the words were out of my mouth before I could really consider their consequences.

“So you’ll come? Mom is pretty insistent so if you’re saying no, I’m making you tell her yourself.” Well, looked like I was spending Christmas at the White House then. It’s difficult to say no to a president, especially when that president is Ellen Claremont.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Brilliant!” June was positively gleeful. “I’ll go tell mom.” She spun on her heel and took off to the other side of the room, Nora trailing behind her. That left me alone with Alex who was still uncharacteristically quiet.

“Are you alright?” I asked when the silence started getting awkward. “You haven’t said a word.”

“I am so so sorry.”

“Why?”

“Why on Earth did you say yes?” He asked rather than answering my question. “You must have realised what that was.” 

And I had. It was a very obvious and deliberate attempt at a set-up. Just about everyone apparently thought that we’d be great for each other and I knew everyone badgered Alex about it all the time. Maybe that’s one of the reasons we’d never really managed to become proper friends. I didn’t have it so bad. I was an only child and most of the people I really cared to talk to knew very little about this part of my life. There was the odd comment from my parents but they knew by now that I wouldn’t just go along with what they planned or thought best for me. I’d overheard enough to know Alex wasn’t so lucky.

“They caught me off-guard. It’s not ideal, I know, but it’s better than the Christmas I was in for otherwise.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think about that. It’s going to be unbelievably awkward you know?”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“How can it not be?”

“Just try to ignore it all.” I sighed. “Look, I know it will still be a bit awkward no matter what we do-”

“A bit? Do you realise how relentless my family are?”

“I know. But maybe we should just actually talk. Get to know each other a bit. It might make it more bearable.”

“Or less.”

“Alex, like it or not, we’re stuck in this situation now, we might as well make the best of it. Maybe this will give us a chance to actually become friends.”

“Friends, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, if everyone thinks we should get together then there must be something compatible about us. We could try and be friends rather than having whatever this is.”

He knew what ‘this’ I was referring to. Whatever was between us. Neither of us really knew what it was or what to call it. We weren’t friends. It wasn’t some weird sexual tension. We were more than mere acquaintances too. A couple of young people in the same position who talked and occasionally got drunk together but had no significant attachment to each other (well…) was about the closest description. Whatever ‘this’ was, I didn’t want it.

“Okay. Let’s see how this goes.”

*

It went pretty well in the end. 

I woke early on Christmas morning, hours before I needed to think about leaving for the White House, I always did. Trying to sleep again would be futile so I rolled out of bed and went to make myself pancakes, shooting off a quick message to Alex to check the time and what I should wear on the way. It was a valid question. Some people dressed up, some didn’t leave their pyjamas, I didn’t want to be over or underdressed. I put the kettle on and felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was Alex. I had a text from him timestamped at 3am and it was 7am now. Did he sleep at all?

It was still weird - getting texts from Alex. He’d taken my suggestion of friends to heart and had been texting me about all sorts at all hours of the day and night for the past week. It was odd, but nice. And I - and by extension, everyone - was right. We had a lot in common. 

I checked his text.

Alexander the not-so-great: I’m already up so come by whenever. Dinner at 1 though so before then.

Me: Okay. Making pancakes now, see you in a couple of hours?

Alexander the not-so-great: ...If I come over, can I have pancakes?

Me: Sure.

I froze. Had I seriously just invited him over for breakfast? I read the text again. Yes. Yes, I had. Okay. This wasn’t weird at all. Too late to do anything about it now though. 

10 minutes later I heard a car pulling up outside. That would be him.

“Merry Christmas!” I smiled as I opened the door for him, trying to look as if I wasn’t freaking out a bit at this turn of events.

“Hey,” he smiled back and I swear that smile didn’t used to do the things it was doing to me now.

“Come in, food is nearly ready.” I stepped back so he and one of his security team could come inside. I couldn’t help feeling bad for the woman that was stuck coming out here with him so early in the morning.

Breakfast turned out not to be as awkward as I’d anticipated, in fact it was quite nice. I hadn’t actually seen Alex since the Christmas party last week but thankfully we were getting on as well in person as we had been over text. Better, even.

“Okay, I need to go take a shower,” I said when we’d finished washing up our plates. “Wi-Fi password is on the router in the living room through there if you want it. Just make yourself at home while I get ready.” We wandered out into the hall and I started up the stairs before pausing and adding. “Guest bathroom is at the end of the hall upstairs and the door next to it is the guest room, you can use anything you need in there. There’s towels and stuff if you need a shower or anything.”

“Is this your way of telling me I stink?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“No worse than usual.” I grinned back and finished climbing the stairs, Alex’s laughter following me until my bedroom door shut between us.

I tried to get ready quickly, feeling as though I was keeping him waiting somehow even though he’d said there was no rush. I managed to shower in record time but that was all I got done quickly. Everything seemed to have gone missing, my hairbrush, moisturiser, toothbrush - which I could have sworn I left charging on my desk, and half my clothes. Maybe I should have tidied my room a bit over the past few weeks, but to be fair, I had a lot of work to do and keeping my things tidy wasn’t much of a priority.

Kicking a pile of clothes to the side, I freed my underwear draw and managed to find a clean set to wear. That was something at least. I looked in my wardrobe, at what was the only selection of clothes I knew for sure were clean, and tried to find an outfit in there somewhere. There was a cute dress or two, but I still wasn’t sure if that was too formal, and a few paint covered t-shirts, some jeans, all my party clothes, and a few shirts. I could probably find something that would work but I needed to check with Alex first. I tried texting him but he didn’t answer. Of course the one time I needed a reply, he was ignoring his phone.

With a huff, I threw on my bathrobe and went downstairs to find him. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen and his security was still here so he hadn’t left. I asked her if she knew where he was and she told me he’d gone to the bathroom. Thanking her, I padded back upstairs to intercept him on his way out. That turned out to be a mistake. 

The bathroom door opened and Alex stepped out. Apparently he’d taken me up on my offer of the shower and I was having a hard time deciding if I was happy about that or not. On the one hand, the sight of him still slightly damp with water dripping from his hair and a towel slung low on his hips was fucking glorious. On the other, the sight of him like that was probably going to kill me.

I could feel my cheeks burning as I tried and failed to keep my eyes on his face and not his annoyingly toned abs but I could tell he noticed as he smirked at me. Asshole.

“Can I do something for you?” Yeah. He could take the fucking towel off. I swallowed those words that got alarmingly close to spilling out of my mouth.

“Yeah. I wanted to ask what I should wear. I’m a bit low on options but I don’t want to be overdressed or anything.”

“What have you got?” And I definitely shouldn’t have, especially not now, but I gestured for him to come into my room and take a look.

“Sorry about the mess. It’s not usually like this,” I apologised when I saw how taken aback he looked. I pointed at my open wardrobe. “That’s the only stuff I know for sure is clean.” He considered for a moment before pulling out one of the slightly more casual party dresses along with a cardigan.

“This should be fine. Don’t bother with heels or anything though, just put some sneakers with it.”

“Thanks.” I took the clothes from him and shooed him away. “Go away now. I can’t get dressed with you in here.”

“You sure?” He winked and I smacked his arm, rolling my eyes.

“If I’d have known this was what being your friend entailed, I never would have suggested it.”

“That hurts.”

“You’ll live. Now go get dressed.”

“Sure you want me to?” He winked at me again and in all honesty, I wasn’t sure but I needed him to if I was going to stay sane.

“Oh my god, just go.” He grinned at me one last time before I shut the door on him and let out a deep breath. Alex Claremont-Diaz was going to be the absolute death of me.

*

We got to the White House just before nine and the rest of the family were up and waiting in the living room. And that was something interesting to walk into. Never in my life did I think I’d see President Ellen Claremont half asleep on the floor in her pyjamas. There were some very meaningful looks aimed our way when we walked in together and I could tell we were both regretting turning up at the same time. It was too late to do anything about it though.

“So that’s where you disappeared off to this morning,” June said with a smirk.

“Well I had to do something while I waited for you all to wake up.” There were raised eyebrows at that and Alex froze for a moment as he realised how that might have sounded. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

No one bothered to respond to that and just shifted to make space on the floor by the tree for us, failing to repress their smirks when they basically forced us to sit together. Alex really hadn’t been exaggerating about how bad his family was with this.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that everyone had got me gifts to, and good ones. They apparently knew me better than I’d thought. Thankfully I’d managed to find something for everyone too, though I doubted my gifts were quite as good. But it’s the thought that counts after all.

Soon after the presents were done everyone headed back to their rooms to get dressed, once again leaving Alex and I alone. I didn’t miss the wink June threw our way as she left and pointedly shut the door behind her. I kind of wanted to die.

“I am definitely starting to understand why you seemed so horrified by this idea,” I groaned when the door clicked shut.

“I did warn you.”

“Yeah, after I’d already agreed.”

“You could have just said there was a change of plan.”

“You try telling your mother that.”

“...Okay, you have a point.” I sighed and laid down on the rug. 

“It could be worse. At least they’re not saying anything embarrassing yet.”

“Give them time.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“With good reason. I hope you’re ready for this.” And, like a fool, I thought I was.

Christmas lunch passed agonisingly slowly with meaningful glances thrown both my way and Alex’s from Zahra and every member of the family. The food was great though and it was still enjoyable when I was able to ignore the looks and immerse myself in the conversation but even that didn’t last long. Leo just had to ask about both our love lives. Alex managed to field most of the questions and more than once I saw him shoot his family murderous looks which made them drop it for a few minutes. I appreciated the attempts.

Drinking and ridiculous games followed for the rest of the day and I lost track of time, enjoying everyone’s company even if they were still giving us looks and comments. I found myself minding less and less the longer I was there though. It sure wouldn’t be the worst thing to get together with Alex and honestly the idea was becoming very appealing. 

11pm rolled around. Eyes started drooping, conversations died down, and murmurs about heading to bed started up. I was half asleep myself, leaning on Alex’s shoulder and not really caring anymore what anyone might think, and dreading the prospect of getting up and making my way home. I’d gotten a lift with Alex from my house and I was regretting it now. Either I’d have to trouble someone for a lift home or walk. Neither option seemed great but I’d have to pick soon. The longer I stayed there, the harder it was getting to move.

Ellen and Leo stood and announced they were heading to bed and I decided that probably meant I should leave too, no matter how much I didn’t want to. I shifted and started to get up but Ellen stopped me.

“(Y/N), honey, it’s late, you can stay here tonight.” There was only the faintest smirk on her face now so I knew the offer was more out of care than the family’s attempt to set Alex and I up.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” She smiled and left, Leo following with Zahra close behind. I hesitated for another few moments. I probably shouldn’t stay but the option was incredibly tempting.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Alex said quietly. I looked over at him and he was smiling slightly, the look on his face softer than any I’d ever seen before. “But I’d like you to.” There was something strangely vulnerable in his voice and I found myself agreeing to stay without thinking.

“Okay.” He grinned and stood up, much more himself now.

“I’ll show you to a guest room.” We both pretended not to notice the smirks on both Oscar and June’s faces as we left. I didn’t have the energy left for conversation so we walked through the residence in comfortable silence until we finally arrived at a door that looked just like every other. 

“Well, goodnight I guess.” Alex finally spoke again. “I hope today wasn’t too awful.”

“It was actually really nice.” I smiled sleepily at him.

“Even with all...that?” He gestured vaguely to indicate his family.

“It wasn’t so bad.” I mean, it totally was but being with Alex had been worth it.

“I’m glad. It was nice having you here.” I tried to ignore the way my heart swooped at that but it was difficult in my tired state. “I’m just along the hall in the east bedroom if you need anything and I basically never sleep so don’t worry about disturbing me.”

“Thanks Alex. And thanks for today.”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight.” And then, quite unexpectedly - though maybe if I’d been paying more attention it would have been less of a surprise, he leaned in and kissed me. Just lightly, his lips soft and warm against my own for a few brief moments before he pulled away with a soft smile. “Sleep well, (Y/N).”

He turned and headed to bed himself, leaving me standing dumbly in the hall, surprise rooting me to the spot. After a few seconds spent staring after him I finally shook myself out of it, turning the doorknob and slipping inside the guest room. My whole body felt warm and molten and I collapsed on the bed, mind swirling with thoughts of Alex. Today hadn’t been what I expected but it was better than I dreamed. Maybe being set up wasn’t so bad after all.

*

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa @moderngenius94

[secretgamergirl]

“What can I do to help?”

As I’m writing this, I’m dealing with a rather astounding amount of vicious harassment which is taking a very serious toll on me. Usually when this is happening, I try not to talk about it publicly, because the sort of people who do this love nothing more than seeing evidence that it’s working, but sometimes, exceptions need to be made. And more to the point, as someone who deals with these sort of attacks as a constant presence in my own life, as well as helping others deal with the same in what is arguably a professional capacity, it seems to me the state of things today is at a point where we need a fresh round of public education on how these sorts of attack play out, and what any given person can do to actually help people deal with them in a meaningful way.

Predators and Herds

As a basic fundamental primer here, I’m going to need everyone to start looking at things from the perspective of a herd animal, because not only is it a pretty clear metaphor for a lot of this, I honestly think this is literally the sort of ancestral memory/instinct that drives this sort of thing. Plus there’s an amusing irony in telling people dealing with these sorts of predatory scumbags that they aren’t acting ENOUGH like sheep.

Some animals are predators. In order to survive, they have to stalk/chase/pin down other animals and kill them in order to eat. Invariably, the animals they target are those that are the most vulnerable. It’s the easiest way to go, and the one with the least risk of anything going wrong. If you’re a hungry wolf, you’re not going to mess with the big beefy ram who can headbutt you and break some ribs, or the really fit sheep you’d have to chase for an hour and still might never catch up with. You’re just going to go for the one with the broken leg, or the little defenseless baby lamb. Those ones you can definitely pick off without much effort at all, and they can’t really fight back in any meaningful way.

Some animals deal with predators by just focusing single-mindedly on defending themselves. If you can outrun the predators, and never let them get the drop on you, or you hide well enough they can’t ever find you, or you know how to really fight back and hurt them badly enough they know not to mess with you, then cool, you aren’t going to get eaten. At least until you let your guard down at the wrong time, or you get injured, or age starts taking its toll. Plus with all of these you’re just living your whole life in this constant state of fear, actively aware that death lurks just around the corner, and you can’t really form any real attachments with anyone else or protect them. It’s no way to live your life, and all of these require you to be able to outperform any predator who comes at you.

The other way to survive with predators wanting you dead is to be part of a herd. If everyone the predators want to prey on are in a big group, there’s inherent safety in numbers there. Not, to be clear, simply because having so many potential meals to choose from means the odds of you being chosen drop. Predators have to weigh the risks now of coordinated defenses. That big tough ram they’d rather not tackle for fear of getting hurt is right there next to that shaky-legged little lamb that would otherwise be the easiest meal to snag there is.

Herds cause a whole lot of headaches for predators, so when they’re a factor, the first step is pretty much always going to be to scatter the herd in some fashion, so all the prey that would be a pain to deal with leave, and the easily picked off targets are left behind to move in on. There’s a lot of ways to do this, and I don’t want to get into too much detail because the metaphor would get too strained, but the real key counter-strategy is to keep the herd from scattering.

Wolves are going to show up, they’re going to show up in packs, they’re going to start snarling and howling and all that, and some sheep are always going to run when that happens, and some sheep aren’t going to be able to. The trick is to have as many sheep as possible stand their ground. If there’s only a couple who do, they’re just going to get picked off along with the ones who can’t run or fight back. But if enough sheep stand their ground to keep those intimidating numbers, nobody’s getting eaten.

There’s our big framework for looking at this, don’t ever let it drop.

How Predators Attack

Now, the next thing to keep in mind here is that people who haven’t been really hit hard by the sort of attacks I’m talking about here tend to be totally clueless about what they actually involve, and even those who have been targeted tend to be really bad at recognizing when other people are being put through the same.

What people imagine to be a “really devastating attack” is when, say, 2000 different twitter accounts all coordinate to hurl violent threats and horrible slurs at a single person over a single one-hour period or something. Don’t get me wrong here. That does happen, regularly, and that’s never a fun thing to deal with, if only because it essentially serves as a DDoS attack, rendering you unable to see any messages from people you want to see things from, but at the end of the day, it does no more harm than having your router go down for a few hours, maybe a day or two in the most extreme cases. It’s also not something that ever really gets sustained in the long term. It’s more like the predators are just holding a pep rally and testing how many accounts they can direct at once.

The really devastating attacks are the effort to drive herds away. They’re a hell of a lot less flashy, generally. They’re hard to point out to others. When really well executed, the target doesn’t even necessarily see anything happening. And what’s happening is elaborately orchestrated character assassination.

I can’t really convey the seriousness of this without some very specific examples. I may follow this up with a roundup of every attack I’ve personally had launched against me, but for now, let me present a very old and famous example, along with the one I’m most recently dealing with.

The classic, of course, from way back in 2014- “Zoe Quinn slept with five guys from various publications in exchange for good reviews of a game.” If this were the first time you encountered this statement, odds are good your personal reaction would be along the lines of “who?” or “who cares?” The goal here isn’t to make everyone hate Zoe Quinn though, just people immediately around Zoe Quinn. The premise of trading favors for good press is something anyone involved in the press is going to take quite seriously, with even baseless claims having an extreme chilling effect. For another crowd, promiscuity is considered a crime worthy of stoning someone to death (and it’s rather telling that the most commonly repeated version of this attack shortens it to simply “Zoe Quinn slept with five guys”). Much more to the point though, the premise that anyone reading this hasn’t previously encountered this line. That message was shouted from the rooftops all over the world for five straight years, over every possible channel.

More recently, I’ve been dealing with... this incoherent mess. This is much less coordinated, with just a handful of people in the think tank, testing every attack live on the fly. You can watch, more or less in real time, as this predator tosses out a variety of defamatory attacks, switching to a new one every time one falls flat. I’m friends with Graham, then I’m business partners, then I’m either paying him or maybe sleeping with him in exchange for promoting some website. I’m a professional journalist (which is a rather weird angle to press as an attack). Then suddenly I’m a “pedophile defender.” A new attack every day.

Now, in both these cases, there’s no truth at all behind any of these attacks. None of these are even stories with two sides to consider. Zoe Quinn’s game was a little choose your own adventure story comprised of a few simple HTML pages linking to each other. No one ever reviewed it to begin with, so the whole thing falls apart. Graham Linehan is a disgusting crusader who attacks children’s charities for daring to provide support to trans children, and quite famously has some weird fixation on publicly attacking me, and I’m a trans woman who hasn’t had any real luck finding work of any kind since coming out half a decade ago. I’ve never run any website that wasn’t a simple blog like this one, or this one which I think puts that last claim to bed well enough.

But again, the idea with attacks like this isn’t to be credible, or even plausible. People don’t make these sorts of attacks based on anything the target has done, it’s all about what will do the most harm if even one person actually buys into it. You want to hurt an indie game dev? Get people to believe they have to bribe people with sex to get any positive mention of their output. You want to hurt a trans woman? Get people to believe she’s friends with and/or sold everyone else out to the king of the transphobes. Someone who does real work to shut down child porn sites? Secretly a pedophile. Etc. Etc. And the success rate of attacks like this is never zero. No matter how transparently false the claim is, shout it at enough people and SOMEONE is going to treat it as ironclad fact, spreading it around in turn and coming off more credible because they’re quoting someone.These rumors spread like wildfire since, let’s be honest, social media sites are all just glorified gossip mills at the end of the day, and all those laughable details from the original lie drop away, replaced with lists of all the very credible people who always know what they’re talking about these scathing claims have been filtered through.

In my experience, honestly it’s the all the most pathetic claims that do the most damage. “Slept with five guys” sticks more than “in exchange for reviews” because it’s such a non-crime that people default to “let’s say that’s true - who even cares?” rather than question the veracity. And I swear all the most damaging attacks I’ve ever suffered really just boil down to baseless claims that I really just don’t like some arbitrary collection of mostly women (a mix of strangers and people I generally view in a positive light).

Having established all of that, we can finally get around to the big question found in the title of this post:

What can I do to help?

Really, the most meaningful and impactful thing you can ever do when someone is being attacked like this is just to do whatever you can to get in front of it. If you know someone has some predator out there trying to convince people she eats puppies, broadcast a big announcement about how that’s happening, along with how and why you’re as confident as you are that she doesn’t, and it’s a baseless hit job. If you have media connections, try to get a story printed about the whole mess, or set up an interview where the victim can talk about how surreal the experience is. If you don’t, just shout about it where you can, so people know not to trust it when word eventually reaches them of all the depraved puppy feasts.

Past that, just be an active support. Tell the alleged puppy eater how you have her back. Ask how she’s holding up. Offer to talk for a bit, or watch a movie. More often than not, attacks like this cost people career contacts and close friends, and cause a lot of trauma. Whatever you can do to help beat the encroaching darkness back helps.

Also? Don’t fall into that trap of granting these sort of BS claims are true to argue the point that they’re stupid reasons to attack someone. They’re always going to be a big deal to someone, and your hypothetical just makes it seem more factual.

Do keep in mind though that these sorts of solidarity moves are going to make the predators real mad. They want to drive you away, and failing that, they’re going to want to take you down too for not running off with the rest of the herd. If we can establish these sorts of defenses as a cultural norm, or you’re personally the sort of person it’s too risky to go after, this is a total non-issue, but if you’re also particularly vulnerable, and nobody else is following suit, be aware of the risks you’re taking.

Finally, make sure you don’t fall into the trap of becoming a predator yourself. So many people get this idea in their heads that the best defense is a good offense, and set out to “turn the tables,” but frankly it just doesn’t work. When you go on the offense, you can’t help but take on those predatory instincts. You end up targeting the most vulnerable people you can find and convince yourself are “the enemy.” I mean that’s almost certainly how the batch of predators you’re trying to fight got started in the first place.

So just... try to be kind. Be supportive. Get out in front of life-ruining rumors. And don’t just do it for people you know and trust. Do it for strangers who are plainly being preyed on. Look for people who just live to tear into people, especially when they keep tearing into the super marginalized. Object to that on principle. And remember anyone can fall into doing it, no matter how long you’ve known and trusted them, or what their politics are.

And some more thoughts on this topic.

[morethankradio]

Something Awesome: Data Thief or Gift Recipient

Okay, we’ve seen more than a few attacks that can be performed when someone clicks a link or navigates to a website.

Cryptojacking

Cross Site Request Forgery

Drive-By Attacks

Zoom 0day

But it’s time to pay homage to the attack that’s hidden in plain site. 

tldr; head over to https://fingerprintme.herokuapp.com/ for some fun.

Passive Data Theft

I hesitate to call it theft when in fact we are giving all of this data to every website we visit like a little gift. 

Please, accept this bundle of quasi-identifiers as a token of my appreciation.

Many internet users have no idea just how much data is available to websites they are visiting, so it’s worth exploring just what is in our present.

IP Address and Geolocation API

Like any good gift giver, we better write on the tag. 

To: <website server> From: <your IP address>

Your IP (Internet Protocol) address is a little 32-bit (now possibly 128-bit) number that uniquely identifies your device on the Internet. This is by design; people need to be able to address you to be able to send you any packets. A static 1:1 mapping of devices to IPs is definitely a massive exaggeration today as as we use technologies to let multiple devices share one IP, dynamically acquire an IP for each session, and our ISPs (Internet Service Providers) may also dynamically assign our IP address.

Nonetheless, IP addresses have (again by design) another function; location addressing. This is because when you’re internet traffic is propagating through the Internet (a global network of routers) it needs to know where it physically needs to go, and fast. Owing to this, the internet has taken on a hierarchical structure, with different ISPs servicing different geographical regions. These ISPs are tiered such that lower tier ISPs service specific subsets of the upper level tier’s region, providing more geographical specificity. It is this property of IP addresses that allows anyone with your IP address to get a rough idea where you are in the world. Moreover, IP addresses from specific subnets like AARNet (for Australian Universities) can be a giveaway for your location.

Try Googling “my ip” or “where am i”. There are many IP to Geolocation API services available. I have made use of https://ipgeolocation.io/, which has a generous free tier 🙏.

User Agent

Every request your browser makes to a server is wrapped up with a nice little UserAgent String bow, that looks a little like this,

User-Agent: Mozilla/<version> (<system-information>) <platform> (<platform-details>) <extensions>

Oh how sweet 😊 it’s our Operating System, our browser and what versions we of each we are running, and if the server is lucky, perhaps a few extra details.

Here are a few examples from MDN:

Mozilla/5.0 (Windows NT 6.1; Win64; x64; rv:47.0) Gecko/20100101 Firefox/47.0

Mozilla/5.0 (Macintosh; Intel Mac OS X x.y; rv:42.0) Gecko/20100101 Firefox/42.0

Mozilla/5.0 (X11; Linux x86_64) AppleWebKit/537.36 (KHTML, like Gecko) Chrome/51.0.2704.103 Safari/537.36

Why might this be a problem? Allow me to direct you towards my earlier post on Drive-By Attacks. Vulnerabilities are often present in specific versions of specific platforms. If an exploit server detects that your particular version of Chrome for Windows (for example) has a known vulnerability, well then prepare to be infected. 

Navigator

Okay, I think we’ve been polite enough, it’s time to rip this packaging open! Ooh what is this inside? It’s an invitation to our browser of course! 

When we send off a request to a web server complete with our IP and User Agent string, the web server will typically respond by sending us a web page to render. These days a web page can be anything from a single HTML file with a few verses from a dead poet, to a fully fledged JavaScript application. To support this development, browsers are exposing more and more functionality/system information through a special JavaScript interface called Navigator.

From MDN,

The Navigator interface represents the state and the identity of the user agent. It allows scripts to query it and to register themselves to carry on some activities.

...to carry on some activities... I wonder. The list of available properties and methods is pretty comprehensive so I’ll just point out a few interesting ones.

getBattery() (have only seen this on chrome)

connection (some details about your network connection)

hardwareConcurrency (for multithreading)

plugins (another important vector for Drive-Bys)

storage (persisted storage available to websites)

clipboard (requires permissions, goodness plz be careful)

doNotTrack (i wonder who checks this...)

vibrate() (because haptic is the only real feedback)

While I’ve got it in mind, here’s a wonderful browser localStorage vulnerability I stumbled across https://github.com/feross/filldisk.com. There’s a 10MB per site limit, but no browser is enforcing this quota across both a.something.com and b.something.com...

I have no idea why Chrome thinks it’s useful to expose your battery status to every website you visit... Personally, the clipboard API feels the most violating. It requires permissions, but once given you’re never asked again. Control/Command + V right now and see what’s on your clipboard. I doubt there’s many web pages that you’d actually want to be able to read your clipboard every time you visit.

Social Media Side Channel / CSRF

Okay, now we’re getting a little cheeky. It’s actually possible to determine if a browser has an authenticated session with a bunch of social media platforms and services.

It’s a well known vulnerability (have a laughcry at some of the socials responses), which abuses the redirect on login functionality we see on many of these platforms, as well as the Same-Origin Policy SOP being relaxed around HTML tags, as we saw was sometimes exploited by Cross Site Request Forgery attacks.

Consider this lovely image tag.

<img src="https://www.facebook.com/login.php?next=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Ffavicon.ico%3F_rdr%3Dp">

As you can see, the image source (at least originally) doesn’t point to an image at all, but rather the Facebook login page. Thanks to SOP, we wouldn’t and shouldn’t be able to send an AJAX request to this website and see the response. But this HTML image tag is going to fire off a GET request for it’s source no problem. 

Thanks to redirect on login, if a user rocks up to the login page with the correct session cookies then we won’t have them login again, but rather we redirect them to their newsfeed; or, as it turns out, whatever the URL parameter next points to. What if we point it to an actual image, say the website icon, such that the HTML image tag loads if we are redirected, and fails if not.

Simple but effective. You can try it for yourself here, by opening my codepen in your browser when you’re signed in to Facebook, and when you’re signed out (or just use Incognito).

Fingerprint Me v1.0

Okay, time for a demonstration. I took the liberty of writing my own web page that pulls all this data together, and rather than store it for a rainy day (like every other page on the web),  I present it to the user on a little web dashboard. It’s like a mirror for your browser. And who doesn’t like to check themselves out in the mirror from time to time 🙃

Random technical content: I had to fetch the geolocation data server-side to protect my API key from the client, then I sneak it back into the static HTML web page I’m serving to the user by setting it on the window variable in some inline script tags.

I bust out some React experience, and have something looking pretty (pretty scary I hope) in some nondescript amount of time (time knows no sink like frontend webdev). I rub my hands together grinning to myself, and send it off to some friends.

“Very scary”. I can see straight through the thin veil of their encouragement and instead read “Yeaaaah okay”. One of them admits that they actually missed the point when they first looked at it. But.. but... nevermind. It’s clearly not having the intended effect. These guys are pretty Internet savvy, but I feel like this should be disconcerting for even the most well seasoned web user... 

Like that moment you lock eyes with yourself in the mirror after forgetting to shave a few days in a row.

Fingerprint Me v2.0

An inspired moment follows. I trace it back to the week ?7 activity class on privacy:

It is very hard to make a case for privacy. What is the inherent value of privacy? Why shouldn’t the government have our data, we give it to a million services everyday anyway, and receive a wealth of benefits for it. Go on, have it. I wasn’t using it for anything anyway. 

It is very easy to make a case for privacy, if there is any sense that someone malicious is involved. As soon as there is someone who would wish us ill it becomes obvious that there are things that the less they know the better. 

<Enter great The Art of War quote here.>

~ Sun Tzu

Therein lies the solution. I need to make the user feel victimised. And what better to do it than a green on black terminal with someone that calls themselves a hacker rooting your machine.

DO CLICK THIS LINK (it’s very safe, I promise) https://fingerprintme.herokuapp.com

Some more random technical content: Programming this quite synchronous behaviour in the very async-centric JavaScript was quite a pain. It was particularly tricky to get around the fact that React renders it’s component hierarchy top down, so I needed the parent components to mount empty in order for them to be correctly populated with child components later. It was also a pain to access and render child components conditionally, especially if you want to have sets of child components in different files, as though they aren’t ultimately nested in the DOM, React will treat them as if they are.

Some User Reviews:

“It feels like I should shut the window”

“This is SO RUDE”

“Battery level. I mean. Literally. How.”

Excellent.

Recommendations

Know what’s in your present, and who you’re gifting it to 🎁

To protect your IP address/location consider using a VPN or ToR

Check out NoScript, a browser plugin that will block JavaScript by default, but allow you to enable it for trusted sites.

Check out and share https://fingerprintme.herokuapp.com 😉

[dbhtychou]

Chicago: Become Human (Teaser)

Hey guys, it’s February. Here’s a little teaser of my fanfic. Still scheduled to go up on or around Valentine’s day.

Paring: Connor x OFC Summary: A damaged RK800 “Connor” model android is repaired and repurposed to work as a bodyguard for a private foundation.

**********

Chicago: Become Human

Chapter One: Connor Repurposed

October 2037 – One year and one month until the android revolution.

The RK800 model, serial number 313 248 317-48 sat in the back of the police cruiser with detached patience. Designated “Connor” by his designers, the android was at the mercy of the officers in the front seat. He went wherever they deemed to take him. Androids were not allowed to drive. They were also not permitted to carry any sort of firearm. They were allowed to work jobs and handle people's money, or look after children without human supervision. But cars and guns, the public was not ready to trust them with such things alone.

Connor had no opinion of it either way. He was not programmed to simulate opinion, only tell facts as he saw them. He was also programmed for infinite patience, which led to many, many hours sitting in the back of police cruisers, sometimes even locked inside alone. Connor had no opinion of this either.

Instead, he idled his time by rolling a quarter over his knuckles, back and forth, over and over in a perfect ripple. He had found the coin in one of the cruisers a few weeks ago and offered it to the officer on duty. The human just looked at it as if the money wasn't worth the effort to put it in his pocket and told Connor to keep it if he liked.

Connor didn't know about liking it, but he did keep it. In those quiet hours when he was forgotten in the back of the squad car, he would pull the quarter from his pocket and fiddle with it. Flipping it up in the air was the first thing he taught himself. Then it was rolling it over his knuckles from one hand to the other. Then came more complicated tricks: spinning it on his finger tips, flicking it from one hand to the other, nearly faster than the human eye could catch. He did not know why he taught himself these tricks, he just did them.

The squad car pulled into a small neighborhood. Connor noticed young children riding their bikes and trikes in the cul-de-sac where their target destination was located. Not an adult in sight—human or android. Very irresponsible, Connor observed. As the two officers in the front opened their doors, there was clear yelling coming from the house where they parked. The car doors were shut, leaving Connor alone inside. The back doors of the cruiser did not open from the inside, as that was where perpetrators were placed. Connor was used to it.

The entire purpose of the RK800 test model was to construct a perfect program that would eventually allow Cyberlife to release an enhanced android exclusively available to police departments. Something far more advanced than the regular beat cop models they already used. The main goal was to provide quick analysis to on-site crime scenes and assist in more complicated police matters. Especially those involving other androids, which, in just the few past months, was becoming an issue that had never arisen before.  When the Detroit Police Department was given the android, however, they didn't seem to know what to do with him, which was why Connor spent so much time in the car.

He expected it to be much of the same this time, until the officer on the passenger side opened the door for him.

Officer Green was his name. “There's an android on scene. We might need extra assistance.”

“That's what I'm here for,” Connor said politely. He put the coin in his pocket as he stepped out of the car and straightened his tie. It was in his coding to always look as professional as possible. Cyberlife was trying to sell a product and it was his duty to make the product always look good.

Neighbors were gathering around the yard as the homeowner, a middle-aged woman, continued to scream hysterically in the driveway. Particularly at the the individuals that sat locked in her car. She had been frantically yanking on the door handles, screaming and swearing, and beating on the windows when the officers had pulled up.

“It's about time you got here!” The homeowner then turned her rage on the officers as they arrived. “That thing could have hurt my kids by now while you took your sweet ass time!”

Neither officer looked particularly concerned with the scene. As they tried to placate the woman about their lack of punctuality, Connor scanned the car. There were three bodies inside: two human, one android. The humans were in the back seat. Both were male, twins. Likely between the ages of five and six. They looked concerned, their hearts beating a bit faster than normal.

The android sat in the front seat of the car, hands on the steering wheel. She was an RX200: a domestic model specifically programmed for housekeeping and minding younger human children. Her face also looked stressed, her LED flickering quickly between yellow and red.

“That android could have taken off with my boys and done God knows what to them!” the homeowner continued to rant. “I called the station nearly forty minutes ago!”

“Ma'am, I assure you that is not a possibility,” Connor offered before the other officers could reply. “The RX200 model is programmed to be protective of children, not to harm them. And all Cyberlife androids have a fail-safe. Their program freezes if they attempt to drive any vehicle. The time-frame of our arrival would not have mattered. The android is incapable of driving away.”

The woman looked at him as if a lamp post suddenly started talking to her. She turned back to the officers. “Get that damn thing out of my car and away from my babies!”

Assured by Connor's words, neither officer responded as urgently as the mother. “Can you tell us why the android put the kids in the car?” asked Officer Barton, the one who had driven them to the scene.

“I have no idea. It's been glitching these past few weeks. I've been meaning to take it in for maintenance, but I haven't had the money.”

“Ma'am,” Connor offered again, “if you like, I can access the car's computer and unlock the doors.”

Suddenly he was someone worth the woman's attention. “Oh, yes please! Unlock the car!”

Connor hacked into the car's system with ease, but as he ordered the machine to unlock the doors, he was blocked by another cybernetic entity. The clash of two sent a painful feedback into his processor as a female voice screamed in his head. “GET OUT!”

Connor jerked back from the assault, his systems scrambling to block out the other android.

“What's wrong?” Officer Barton asked him.

“The other android, she's communicating with me over my radio frequency.”

“Stay out! They're safe with me!” the female android yelled in his head. Her voice was strained, static, and glitchy. “These are my children! Not hers! I raised them! I fed them! I put them to bed! My children! She can't take them away from me!”

“She thinks the children are hers. That you are trying to take them away,” Connor translated for the rest of them.

“I am trying to take them away from it! It's broken!” the mother spat. “I am their mother! I carried those boys in my body! How dare that plastic piece of--”

As the woman stalked toward the car, the engine jumped to life and everyone froze.

“She can't,” Connor insisted. “Her programming will never allow her to leave the driveway.”

The car lurched back and stopped, and lurched again, as if the driver were having physical trouble pushing down the pedal.

“Shouldn't be possible,” Connor muttered to himself.

“Stop it!” the mother screamed. “Stop it from taking my babies!”

The car lurched again as it backed out of the driveway.

“No, no, no!” Officer Barton called as the android-operated vehicle plowed its back end into the police cruiser.

With a grinding of gears, the car was forced into drive, the damaged back bumper now scraping on the ground. Connor processed the car's intended pathway instantly. The android was driving blind with panic, focusing only on fleeing. It took no notice that it was now putting other children in danger. Something that none of the Cyberlife models should have been capable of doing. They were programmed to shut down instantly if they were about to act on harming any human. And yet, here was an android driving a car and careening straight for a little girl pedaling a purple plastic tricycle.

Connor sprinted into the pathway of the fleeing vehicle. As the little girl came up fast, he dove bodily into the blacktop, shoving the small body out of the way. He saw the blunt nose of the runaway vehicle careening toward him.

He was aware of physical impact, then static.

Then nothing.

**********

Model RK800 “Connor”, serial number 313 248 317-48 was aware as he was brought online. His internal clock synced with online routers to confirm it had been two months since he had been active. Immediately, a smattering of damage reports flooded in. He felt no pain, but also could not feel his left arm. It was completely torn off. The rest of his limbs he was unable to move. He wondered if that coin was still somewhere on his person.

“Well, look, I guess it does still work,” said a female voice.

There were three humans standing in front of him. The one who spoke was Amy Witman, a technician with Cyberlife. Connor recognized her from his memory banks. She had begun working with the company two models ago. Each Connor, after the body was damaged, would have all programming, memories and data downloaded into a new body and sent back out into the field. The current Connor was eighth in the line of androids sent out in the field. After being offline for so long, no doubt the ninth Connor was already back with the police department for weeks now. Perhaps even that was damaged and now the tenth was in the back of someone's squad car.

There were two other humans with Amy: a broad, tall female with sharp features and short, dark hair, and a much larger male with a short marine-style cut and various pale scars on his face. Neither of these humans were in Connor's database.

“It's pretty hashed,” said the unknown female. “Is it even worth the effort to put it back together?”

“Yeah, the Detroit PD is pretty rough with them,” Amy agreed with a bit of irritation. “Those guys don't understand how expensive these are. They'll just take them anywhere. Several have come back with bullet holes. We do have other RK800's in storage that are brand new. Maybe you should ask about getting one of those.”

The unknown male stepped closer to Connor, eyeing his form up and down. “This is the one that jumped in front of a moving vehicle to save a kid, right? This is the one I want. And since it's all chewed up, no one's going to care if we do a little customizing when we put it back together. Maybe change that innocent little baby-face, too, while we're at it.

The unknown female took her turn to get close to Connor's face. “Nah, leave it that way. He's cute. She'll like it.”

Amy stepped forward and turned the android off. And Connor ceased to exist once more.