#why do i need my FUCKING PHONE TO LOG INTO MY COMPUTER

[mr-rogers-blood-stained-sweater]

Tumblr please im going to cry windows reset my fucking profile and the little carot triangle isnt there that shows my running applications and i dont know how to reactivate it google is useless, please i just need its name.....

[fuck-customers]

If you don't have the balls to come talk to me directly like a big girl and try to shame me over the radio in front of our coworkers, don't be mad when I call your ass out.

At my job, in order to clock in/out, we have to first sign into the desktop computer to get to the homepage that has the timeclock program shortcut. Think of it like windows 95 where each family member had a different log in to use the same desktop computer. The system also forces us to update our password every few months and sometimes doesn't register the new password after it has been changed. (yay technology)

SO when I tried to clock IN, the computer wouldn't accept the password that I changed it to a few days ago and I had to ask my coworker log into the computer so I could just clock in. I went about my shift as usual and planned to change my password before leaving for the day.

10 minutes or so before my shift ends, I have no customers and finished my tasks and I have a bit of downtime to change my password, so I get on the computer in between customers to do that. The computer is right next to the register and I make sure to watch the line and stop what I'm doing to ring up customers/answer the phone/etc. Changing my password takes only about 5 minutes.

Now, rather than coming up to me directly to privately talk to me and allowing me to explain the situation and why I'm on the computer, my chickenshit ASM decides to try to shame me over the radio for all of our coworkers to hear. (And probably some customers, because there weren't enough headsets for all the radios today-I know I had to use my radio with no earpiece) But I was not in the fucking mood for her shit and clapped back a little bit.

(I'll use a fake name, but similar enough to convey the idea)

*I see the ASM slinking around the register area a minute or two before this, but assumed she had some project to work on. She was alone and could clearly see when I was with a customer or not to come talk to me privately.*

ASM, over radio: "Whitney, if you don't have any customers, you should be doing something productive, like cleaning up the registers or the front end."

Me, not feeling so hot in the first place and hates her guts: "FIRST OF ALL, my name is BRITTANY, NOT Whitney. SECOND OF ALL, my login wouldn't work and I had to have Melissa log in to the computer just so I could clock in when I got here, so I'm trying to fix it so I don't have to bother anyone else when I need to clock out, since my shift is over in 5 minutes."

There was absolutely no need to make an issue of this at all and if you're gonna call yourself a manager, then you should be managing real people by talking to them like adults. Sometimes there's a legitimate reason for why they might be doing something a different or unconventional way.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[heartfullofleeches]

What if incel reader wants to turn a new leaf but V is making that extremely hard since he's fueling reader's gaming addiction and reader decides to leave him, albeit very reluctantly

(Angst time)

[Guys, I just got my first job! Didn't think anything would come in so soon since I just got my degree. Dont know when I'll have the time to log on, but I'll miss you. Take care.]

It happened again. This is exactly why you rarely played multiplayer anymore. Time and time again, people would detail their milestones in life, never to be seen again. New career. A baby. The list went on and on and on. It made you think about your life. Quitting your job and leeching off someone who gave you his all to play video games nearly twenty four hours a day. It's pathetic. You're pathetic- but you dont want things to stay this way.

You tried so hard to turn yourself around. Applying to jobs in the area, cutting back on your time online. The jobs never got back to you and V would remind you of a new dlc coming to a game you loved, pulling you right back in. V. You don't want to admit it. You wished for a reality where it wasn't true, but he was your biggest obstacle. His care, as well meaning as it was, was weighing you down and leaving you forever a shell of the person you were growing to be. If you wanted to get better, you'd have to let him go.

"H-hey, V. There's something I need to talk to you about. Before I start, I need to say that it isn't you. I love you, but I can't do this. Maybe, in a few years we can meet up and start over, but for now I-"

You choke. Tears flow in your reflection. You break down, crying over the bathroom sink for the millionth time. Even in practice, you can't stop yourself from falling apart. Your cries rebound against the walls, through the crack in the door where angry eyes watch as you wilt away on the bathroom floor. They're torn between comforting you, and breaking your computer to atoms. As much as it bound you to him, V always knew there was a possibility that it could tear you apart just as easily. He decides to take the third option, and quietly leaves the house.

-

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK."

V slams his fist into the steering wheel. He claws at his skin, picking at his filth ridden body and attempting to relieve his air flow as he hyperventilates. You can't leave him. You can't. He can't go back to watching you from afar, wondering how you feel beneath his touch. Having that beautiful grin directed at him. He felt horrible to see you in so much pain, but he refused to accept fault. To let you go. He just had to ease up, give you some of the freedom you so desperately craved.

-

You're sitting on the couch when he finally returns home. He uncharacteristically quiet. You rise, chewing on your lips.

"V, I-"

He hugs you. "It's okay."

Your eyes water. "No, it's not."

"I was here earlier..." He squeezes you tighter. "I heard everything you said."

By the way he shakes, you can tell he's crying too.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be... Let me help you."

"How can you possibly help?"

"My parents. They own a company. We can get you a job. Mail room, office work, it doesn't matter. We can switch off on the housework, go out more. Please...."

"I don't want to lose you, Y/n."

You crumble, sobbing like a baby as you cling onto him and use his shirt to catch your tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You've done so much for me and I was just going to leave."

V hushes you and rubs circles into your back. "It's okay, baby. You'll get better and everything will be okay. Okay?"

You sniffle as he wipes and kisses away your tears. "Okay..."

"Good. I'm gonna go take a quick smoke, but while I do, you go get dressed so we can actually go out tonight. Sound good?"

"Yeah.." You smile a bit. "It does."

"Good." V kisses your forehead and you part ways. Walking outside and leaning against the railing, he pulls put his phone and dials a number. What he didn't expect was an answer on the first ring."

"Hey, Mom?... Yeah, it's me. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Can you give my partner a job? Nothing too crazy, just something to keep them on their toes. Give them a couple promotions maybe, then fire them in a few months. The cameras in the main building are up to date, right?"

[stvrniolotrp]

matt sturniolo x fem!reader one shot:

requested:yes!

warnings:angst,then fluff and kissing not rlly warnings lmao(unless yall are weird and get mad over a kiss.)

summary:matt and reader have been in a relationship for a bit over a year now,and she notices that hes acting different and starts doubting herself.

“am i not good enough for u anymore?”

y/ns pov:

me and my boyfriend matt have been dating for a year and a couple months,he is the best boyfriend anyone can ask for he buys me flowers,reassures me,comforts me when i need it,and is just the absolute best

lately tho matt has been acting really difficult and dry with me,for example i would come over to his house and he would barely acknowledge me,give me attention.he would just stay on his phone or play games on his computer untill i announce im going home.

right now was one of those times,i was sitting against the headboard of matts bed while he was starting up yet another round of fortnite.i decide that maybe i should just talk to him and tell him we could do something like watch a movie.

“babe” i simply say hoping to get his attention,that didnt get his attention.

“matt”i say in a whiny frustrated tone hoping to get it his attention but yet again,that failed.

he let out a groan once he died logging out of fortnite and scavenging for another game to play

i decide to go home.if he invited me to hangout but all hes doing is play games,why should i stay?

“im going home” i simply say getting up from the bed,i go to get my car keys that were on matts desk.

once i took them matt finally looked at me “where are u going?” he says confused

“maybe of u were listening to me for the last i dont know 5 fucking minutes u would know” i say aggressively

i grab my jacket and head out of matts room,matt following shortly after me.

“why are u so mad i asked u a simple question y/n”

i take a deep breath and turn around to look at him standing in the hallway confused

“matt im not mad because u asked me a question,im mad because these last few days u haven’t given me any attention,not just that u flat out dont listen to what i say” he takes a breath to reply but i start talking again

“like seriously matt i called out ur name 500 times and u couldnt even spare me a look.” i stopped then continued again.

“why are u acting like this matt,u were never like this,u havents hugged or kissed me in a little over a week only sparing me a simple smile once i walk through the door” i start yelling while feeling the tears well up in my eyes

“so tell me please tell me,is there another girl?am i not good enough for u anymore?what the fuck did i do to make u act like this?” i yell even more and the tears start streaming down my face

“wait babe dont cry” matt steps closer and puts his hand on my shoulder

“im so so sorry,i didnt realize i was acting like this,i promise i wasnt trying to make u feel like that.”

he says but i just keep crying letting out all of my emotions from the past week or so

“and no there isnt another girl there will never be another girl y/n ur more than enough,i love u so much and im deeply fucking sorry i made u feel like that” matt says as he wraps his arms around my waist

i quickly wrap my arms around his neck

i enjoy his sweet comforting embrace till i break it,matt brings his hands up to my face and wipes away my tears his whispers a soft “im so incredibly sorry” before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

he then puts his arms around my shoulder and starts walking to his bedroom.

we then sat down on his bed

“what movie do u want to watch pretty girl?” matt says as i cuddle up into him

“can we watch harry potter?” i say while smiling

“i knew u were gonna say that” matt says grabbing the remote and putting my favorite movie on.

_________________________________________________

kinda hate this,idk if i executed the idea well

as always tell me what yall think plz🤗🤗

i love u all mwah

[stormy404]

How to hide being queer from your parents 101

First, before I start this mini-essay/guide, I want to say:

Te/rfs fuck off from this post. In fact, ageists fuck off from this post as well. You mfs are the exact reason why it isn't safe for most kids to come out as queer.

Alright, now let's get to the actual guide.

If it can be avoided, never use the apps for social media where you're out as queer. All it takes is one unlucky search through your phone by your parents in order to out you. Instead, use the websites. If you really have to use the app, uninstall it when you're done with it, and only reinstall it when you know your parents are somewhat far from you. Also, make sure to log out of said accounts when you're not using them.

Regularly delete your search history. I don't just mean to do it once every couple days, do it ASAP whenever you've searched something you wouldn't like your parents to see. It may look suspicious, but suspicion is better than being outed to homophobic parents. I recommend having a search browser like opera gx or firefox nightly where you can easily and quickly delete search history.

When on the internet, always have a "Decoy Tab" ready. Simply have a tab open with some generic news site or youtube video open that you can switch to whenever you need to close out of a tab.

When coming out to someone in school or otherwise, only do so if you're absolutely sure they won't tell your parents.

You're gonna need to learn how to lie a lot. Always have an alibi on hand, and practice being able to make up lies on the spot. You're also gonna need to play dumb if you're caught.

Never browse queer content when near your parents. The bare minimum distance is 6-10 feet. The optimal distance is them not even being in the same building. I've almost been outed many times because my parents were close enough to quickly grab my phone.

Know the locations of your breaker and your wifi router. If your parents are searching through something like a desktop computer or a laptop, be prepared to cut out the wifi or even the power as a last resort.

Listen for footsteps and doors opening, and listen hard. If you even so much as think your parents are coming nearby, close out of anything you don't want them to see.

So yeah, that's the end of my tips. I would greatly appreciate it if you reblog this post, as I feel like it could help many people here. Also, feel free to add your own tips as well.

(As a final note, don't add any reblog bait in your reblogs like "unfollow me if you can't reblog" and similar stuff in that vein, as it can trigger people with OCD or anxiety. Thank you for your time.)

[duskwoodgirl4life]

What the hell have I just written lol 🤣 thank you ladies from the discord server when I asked where to have MC meet Jake for the first time/have their first date. I wasn't expecting this 🤣🤣 I only wanted to know if it should be an abondoned building or log cabin

This oneshot contains drugs and so much fucked up things 🤣

I was busy getting ready for my first official date with Jake, it had been a year in the making. He kept his promise to meet after Hannah had been saved. I was a little sad that it wasn't going to be right away but I understood his reasons. He did keep in contact with me when he could. Every time my phone went off my heart started to beat faster. It's like my heart was telling me it was Jake. I've been standing in front of my wardrobe for the past few minutes trying to decide what to wear. Nothing really stands out until I find what I am really looking for a black hoodie. The hoodie he left for me outside my apartment. The hoodie still smells of him. I take it off the hanger and put it on. It feels so soft against my skin.

I take out my favorite pair of black skinny jeans and put them on. I grab my trainers and put them on. I take a look at the time and it's almost time to leave. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. I'm both excited and nervous at the same time but nothing can take the smile off my face. I get to finally meet the love of my life, the man that walked into my life wanting me to help find his half sister. Taking my keys I lock my apartment door and walk towards my car. My phone starts to buzz just as I reach the car.

Jake: hello MC, I can't wait to see you drive safe x

A smile spreads across my face and a warm feeling in my body.

MC: hello Jake, I can't wait to see you either see you soon x

Putting the phone back in my pocket and I get into the car and make my way to the location Jake told me to meet him. Half an hour later I arrive at my destination, it's an old abandoned building. There are several homeless people standing around a round metal barrel with wood sticking out of it set on fire. I walk past them as carefully as I can without attracting too much attention. Once inside the building I go in search of Jake. He told me to make my way up the stairs and walk down the hallway and it's the 6th door on the right. I reach the door and I push it open. I see Jake's computer screens lit up but Jake is nowhere to be found. I softly call out to Jake but my efforts go unnoticed. I take out my phone and call him.

I can hear ringing coming from another room as I get closer. The ringing gets louder. I push open the door and find Jake sitting on the floor with Chinese noodles on his head sitting talking to the takeout container. "Jake!! What are you doing?" I walk closer to Jake who still hasn't noticed I'm there. I kneel down and try to get his attention. "Jake? It's me MC are you okay? Why do you have noodles on his head?" This time Jake looks up at me with a grin across his face. "Shhh they will hear you" I look at Jake in confusion "what do you mean? Who will hear us?" Jake looks to his left and right before answering. "The noodles they will hear you we have to keep quiet or they will attack"

I stand up and take a look around the room and notice an empty packet of pills on the floor. "Jake, have you taken all these pills? What the hell is going on?" After inspecting the packet I found one tablet left over. I know what he's been taking by the color. "Jake, why have you taken LSD? Do you know what that can do to you?" I got no response from him then he stood up and walked closer to me. "Quick the noodle army is on the way we need to attack first" Jake rushed out of the room, noodles still on his head shouting. "Attack of the killer noodles arghhh"

I start running after Jake to try and get him to be quite long enough for me to get him to the hospital. But I know that might not even be an option at the point I notice as he's running he's holding his left side. I start to work out what has happened. He's hurt himself and can't go to the hospital so he's taken a load of drugs to dull the pain. When I finally catch up with Jake he's in the kitchen with a sieve on his head and a spatula in his hand. "I've got a plan but we have to act quickly. The noodle army will be here any moment" when i looked at the counter Jake had wooden spoons all lined up in a row. "Jake come with me I know where we can hide" trying to humor him i put out my hand and he thankfully takes it. I led him back up the stairs and into his office where his computers are. "We can hide in here they will never find us" Jake looked at me with a questioning look then he smiled "good idea I will stand guard just in case"

The next few hours Jake walked up and down with the shive till on his head and spatula still in his hand. It was one of the longest two nights and days I have ever been through. Jake finally passed out on day 3 he's curled up in a ball in the corner of his office. I was finally able to take a look at Jake's injury. It was a deep wound but I was able to clean it up and put a bandage on it. After almost 24 hrs Jake finally woke up clearly wondering what the hell had happened. "What the fuck happened? Why do I have noodles in my hair? And why is there a sieve and a spatula next to me? Why are you here MC? What the fuck happened?"

This is going to take a long time to explain"let me go make some coffee and I'll explain everything"

[vintage-tech]

Oh, Microsoft...

computer: Hey, just picked up the October update to Windows 10. Want to reboot now? me: I'm leaving for work in a little while so just reboot then shut yourself off after in a few minutes. computer: Okily. [I go away, it's doing the update.] me: [9 hours later] Computer, I'm home! computer: Hello! I have restored Panes to your Start menu! Do you like it? me: There's a reason why I turned that garbage off, dude. Undo that now. computer: Okay, great! So you're not online, you should connect to the WiFi! me: I didn't disconnect. And it's not logging in, but I know the WiFi works on my phone. computer: Avast has updated! You're online now! me: Great. I need to synch my Fitbit now. cell phone: So you need to log into Fitbit! me: I didn't log out. And my password isn't working. cell phone: Okay, so let's reset it. me: How about... what it should be. cell phone: Can't let you use that, you already used it before. me: Because that's my fucking password!! Fine, here's something new. cell phone: Great, you got 13,213 steps logged. computer: Did you know Google has gone token instead of two-factor authentication? me: JFC!

[autumntouched]

Day 14 of Ode to Phoenix

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!! Hopefully it's been filled with all the smut and/or pairings you could hope for, and this fic can serve as a little digestif

Summary: Hangman has a Valentine's Day gift for Phoenix

Pairings: Single Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

A/N: Inspired by @coraphoenix's comment on Open House. As frequently happens with these, from my head to the page with few edits. Apologies for any mistakes. xx

Valentine's Day Surprise

Natasha knows it’s going to be a long day when it starts with a flat tire. Hoping today isn’t one of the days Bob decided to go in early, she calls him for a ride. It takes him longer to get to her than she expected because her backseater was at the gate when she called and turned around to get her. 

Now they’re both running late. She’s on her way to her desk when Fritz waves her down in the hallway. “Hey, Phoenix! Did Hangman find you?” He gives her an exaggerated wink that pulls her up short. What the hell? 

“He’s looking for me? Did he say what he wanted?” 

Fritz lifts his eyebrows suggestively. “I thought you would know.”

Natasha tries to hide her irritation but checks her watch. She has less than an hour to finish and submit a report before her class starts. “No idea. Tell him I have a phone and he can text me if you see him again.” Fritz gives her a strange, skeptical look that she no longer has time to figure out. “I’ve gotta go but good to see you!”

Natasha has just logged into her computer and brought up the report when Glider knocks on her door. She’s the newest member of the squadron, recently arrived from Corpus Christi. “Some guy came by looking for you,” she says, not at all trying to hide the curiosity in her voice. 

“Let me guess,” Natasha sighs, annoyed. “A tall, blond dickhead with a toothpick.”

Glider looks surprised. “Oh I thought—,” she catches herself and tilts her head bemused. Her eyes sweep over the desk, sparsely decorated with a cup holder, a picture of her family, and the picture of her with Hangman’s niece in front of a Hornet. 

Natasha is actually curious about what Glider thought because she’s remarkably perceptive. “What?” she prompts.

Glider folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Well today’s Valentine’s Day, Phoenix. You’re single, he at least doesn’t have a wedding band, and he’s looking for you even though he could find your office phone in the directory if he didn’t have your number. So, according to my research, he has something he wants to tell you in person that probably isn’t work related.”

Apparently, Glider has also figured out that sometimes it’s easier to spell things out for Natasha when it comes to her personal life than to drop hints. And fuck! Why is Hangman such an idiot? She’s pretty sure whatever he wants has nothing to do with Valentine’s Day, and he has no idea of the rumor mill he’s set in motion running around looking for her on today of all days. She rubs her forehead, feeling something like a headache brewing.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she promises with a groan. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

Glider gives her a pitying look. “Or so you think,” she says pointedly. And having dropped that bomb into the conversation, she pushes herself off the wall and strolls back to work. 

Natasha needs to text Hangman to stand down, but she doesn’t have a minute to spare for whatever antics he’s going to throw back at her if she’s going to get this report in on time. She works five minutes into her buffer to send it off before class. 

Which means she arrives after some of her students but still ahead of the stragglers. Her slides are already projected onto the board, and they’re the right ones so at least it’s now Bob and the projectionist who have her back today. There seems to be an unusual amount of buzz in the classroom, but she chalks it up to an evening of Valentine’s Day plans ahead of them. Until Glider reminded her, Natasha had forgotten today wasn’t just February 14th and a shitty day with a flat tire.

She’s lining up her notes when Murchison calls out, “How come you never told us you flew with Maverick and Hangman?” 

Natasha’s head flies up to find everyone looking at her with interest. With his two air-to-air kills, especially now that one of those is a fifth-gen fighter, Hangman’s something of a legend to far too many of the young aviators who haven’t had the pleasure yet of crossing paths with his obnoxious ego. “It never came up,” she hedges, sounding a lot more tempered than she feels inside. “I try to focus on execution rather than who’s doing the execution since any one of you could be in a position to use what you learn here.” A rather inspired and neat answer, if she says so herself.

“Well, he said we should ask you about it because you’re probably not going to brag enough about everything you’ve done.”

She marvels at Hangman’s unique talent to make her want to strangle him at the same time she feels gratified for the way he apparently talks about her behind her back. It’s probably because his head is so big he doesn’t think she poses any competition for him, but still, it’s far nicer than some of the things she’s heard others have had to say about her. 

“Let me guess,” she sighs. “He was looking for me?” 

Murchison settles back in his chair, a cheeky lift to his mouth. “You just missed him. He said he needed to give you something but had orders to hand it to you directly.” At least that’s more information than anyone else has been able to give her, but how does Hangman know her schedule well enough to anticipate where she should be?

A few of the aviators exchange shrewd looks and smiles, and Natasha considers excusing herself to chew Hangman out right then and there. Instead, she dangles something she hopes they’ll find more interesting than the assumptions they’re making about her love life. “Thanks for passing along the message, Murchison. Since he brought it up, I guess I can go over a few of the details I’m allowed to share about the mission.”

That grabs their attention, and Natasha ends up glad the mission came up because there are some aspects of it that enhance the lesson she planned for the day. In the back of her mind, she makes a note to text Hangman after class but there are so many questions at the end that Bob is waiting for her to go to lunch by the time she dismisses everyone. 

You could text me instead of running around base looking for me, she fires off. What do you want? She shoves her phone into her back pocket.

“Did Hangman find you yet?” Bob asks as soon as her attention is freed up. 

Natasha stops and gapes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she demands. “What, you too now?” 

“Me too what now?” he asks dumbly, eyes wide behind his glasses at her exasperation. 

“What are we? Back in the nineties without cell phones!” she bursts out, yanking her phone out again and waving it in his clueless face. “If he wants to see me, he could just send a fucking text instead of making the whole base think we’re having some clandestine affair.” 

It is not the time for her wizzo to exercise his sense of humor. “Okay Daphne.” She hates that his sisters introduced him to Bridgerton. “Clandestine affair? We just call that ‘friends with benefits’ these days.” 

Natasha makes a furious noise in the back of her throat and storms off for the NEX. So much for Bob being one of the two people to have her back. He laughs and jogs to catch up to her. “So you’re not even curious about what he wants?” he wheedles. 

Yes. But, “No,” she says firmly. 

“I think it’s sweet.” 

Whose side is he on? And he knows what it is? Fuck, it’s too late for her to ask. “If it’s so important for me to know what it is, he can text me. Like a normal person.” It’s bright outside and she reaches for her sunglasses only to remember that they’re in her car. She puts her head down to keep the sun out of her eyes.

Bob, like Glider, gives her some slack. “Okay, yes, but he wants it to be a surprise. And to be fair, if he told you he had a surprise for you today, you probably wouldn’t text him back about it until tomorrow unless he told you what the surprise is.” 

So Hangman knows her schedule and her MO now? 

Natasha caves and turns to him, shielding her eyes to read his expression. “You promise I’m not going to want to punch him for it?” 

“I think you’re going to appreciate it,” he says genuinely. “And you’re not going to want to be grumpy when he gives it to you.”

She keeps checking her phone through lunch, but there’s no response from Hangman. Back at her desk, she pulls up the flight schedules and realizes he’s in the air until late afternoon. She drums her fingers on her mouse, trying to decipher Bob’s clues. What could Hangman possibly surprise her with on Valentine’s Day that she would appreciate? 

Their Commanding Officer waves anyone who’s finished their work out of the office early so they can get whatever extra time they can with their loved ones. There’s a race for the door and soon she’s one of the few left, using the quiet to review the latest NATOPS manual. Bob stops by to offer her a ride home, but she tells him she still has work to do. 

“So Hangman hasn’t texted you back?” he asks with a knowing smile. 

“This has nothing to do with Hangman,” she sniffs. “I’m doing my job.” 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “See you tomorrow and good luck with the tire.” 

“Oh, by the way. Happy Valentine’s Day,” she remembers to tell him before he leaves. 

He shakes his head lovingly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoenix.” 

As soon as there’s no chance of him turning around and coming back, Natasha pulls out her phone. Nothing from Hangman. She swivels around in her chair to look outside. The sun’s low in the sky so if he’s still on the hop, he’s been delayed. But it’s not like she has anything to rush home to. 

Still, she leaps for her phone when it finally rings. It’s Hangman. “Hello?”

It sounds like he’s running full speed. “Please tell me you’re still here?” he begs breathlessly. What the hell is he up to? Is he running to her?

“I’m in my office.”

“Don’t leave!” he commands. “I promise I’ll be right there.” He hangs up before she can say anything else. 

God, this man should be an actor with his flair for the dramatic. But her curiosity is now at full pitch, so there’s no hope of her focusing on the manual. She closes it and plops it back on the shelf. Natasha looks around for something to do so Hangman doesn’t think she’s sitting there waiting for him in suspense like she very much is. 

He comes barreling into her office, still in his flight suit and drenched in sweat. He wipes his arm across his forehead before he crosses the threshold and tosses an envelope on her desk. “I’ve been trying to give that to you all day,” he pants, hands on hips while he tries to catch his breath. He winces and hugs his side, leaning into a cramp. 

Natasha picks up the envelope. Her name is written across it in large, uneven letters. It looks like a child’s handwriting. She glances at him suspiciously, but he’s too busy trying to ease himself out of what must have been a full tilt sprint. 

Inside, she finds a folded white card with two stick figures. The taller one has a brown ponytail off the side of her head and is wearing the same boxy green squares as the smaller one who has a yellow ponytail. She opens the card.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoenix!!!

You are the best and you are my hero. 

When I grow up, I will fly planes and be brave like you.

Love, Phoebe Nicole Adler 

Natasha’s nose is suddenly feeling runny and her throat a little achy. Blinking rapidly against the tears gathering in her eyes, she reaches for a tissue. 

“Phoebe’s been asking all day if you got her card,” Hangman tells her. “My sister’s called and texted me every day since it came in the mail to make sure I didn’t forget to give it to you so I promised to take a picture of you with it for her.” 

And to her dismay, Natasha finds herself crying in front of Hangman. She sets the card on her desk so she doesn’t ruin it with her tears while she tries to scrub them away. 

“Damn, Phoenix,” Hangman drawls, very clearly entertained. “I didn’t think you knew how to cry and here you are bawlin’ like a baby over a piece of paper.” 

“I can cry and punch you at the same time, Bagman.”

When she manages to clean her face up as much as she can, she holds up the card for the picture he promised. Suddenly the grin falls from his face. 

“What?”

His gaze is trained over her shoulder. “Is that always there?” he asks. 

“Is what–,” she turns to see what’s behind her and her eyes land on the photo of her and Phoebe from the open house. “Oh. Yeah, I keep that for the tough days on the job.” 

When she looks back at him, she’s surprised to see his own eyes have turned glassy. He sniffs. “I know I said a picture but—.”

“Yeah,” she says. “We can FaceTime her.” 

Phoebe is dressed for bed when her face pops into the screen. “Guess who’s here with me, Pheebs?” Hangman asks, extending his arm so Natasha appears beside him. She waves. 

Phoebe squeals and the view goes haywire with her excitement. “Mommy! Mommy! It’s Phoenix!” she shouts. 

Noel chuckles in the background. “Okay, Pumpkin, but she can’t see you if you don’t hold the phone steady.” 

Phoebe comes back into the frame, face alight with awe like she really is staring at her hero. Natasha tries not to cry again. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Phoebe!” she says. “Thank you so much for your beautiful card. I love it so much!”

The view goes haywire again, flashing upward at Phoebe, the ceiling, a blur. “She got my card! Mommy, she got my card! Uncle Jake gave her my card.” 

Hangman tries to hold in his laughter. “Pheebs, can you give Mommy the phone so we can see you?”   

Phoebe returns, this time at a slight distance, with her hands clasped beside her cheek. “Want to see what else I have?” Natasha asks and holds up the framed picture of them. 

Phoebe leaps forward and almost knocks the phone out of Noel’s hand. “Is that me?” 

“Yep. I keep it on my desk so I can remember getting to meet you.” As dramatic as her uncle, that makes the little girl collapse on the floor and no amount of coaxing from Noel can get her back on her feet.

“Someone’s not going to be able to sleep tonight,” Noel chuckles, flipping the camera so they can see her. “But thank you so much, Phoenix, this made her day.”

“Day? This made my whole life!” Phoebe yells from the background and both Natasha and Hangman can’t help laughing aloud this time. 

“This made my whole life too, Phoebe,” Natasha replies, which is met with a muffled, nonverbal scream of excitement. 

They exchange Valentine’s Day greetings and goodbyes with Noel and hang up. Hangman gets to his feet and stashes his phone in his pocket.

“Thanks for that,” he says sincerely. “You just made all eight years of her whole life, and I guess I’ve been replaced as her favorite aviator.” 

Natasha grins. “I’m sure you’re still her favorite uncle.” 

“Going to have to defend that title with my last breath,” he jokes. “It’s the only one I got left.”

It’s several moments before she realizes they’ve been sitting and standing there grinning stupidly at one another. She pushes herself around in her chair. “Thanks for making sure I got the card. I should put it up–.” 

“Want to get ice cream?”

Natasha looks at him sharply. “After you ran around all day making the whole base think that there’s something going on between us?” she demands.

Hangman has the common sense to look chastised. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I guess…yeah, I’m sorry about that, Phoenix.” 

Maybe it’s the rare apology or maybe Phoebe’s earned her uncle a little extra grace. Whatever it is, Natasha shrugs. “As long as you give me a ride home after. My car has a flat.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s the least I can do after you made my niece’s whole life.” 

“That’s something I’m remembering for the rest of mine,” she laughs, but she’s not joking. Phoebe’s card is one of the best Valentine’s Day presents she’s ever received. 

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Tag list: @melodiousoblivionao3

[noforkingclue]

Dead or Alive- Chapter 8 (James Bond x reader)

James Bond tag list: @mxacegrey

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

‘How’s your cat?’

You frowned at the familiar ping of the message and quickly walked over to your laptop to read it. Despite the rush you were in you couldn’t help but smile and type out a brief response.

‘Not my cat’

‘Your friend’s cat then’

‘They came back.’

‘Well that explains why you’re suddenly typing much better again.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Still charming as ever.’

‘I’m just happy that the cat is gone. He’s not my problem anymore.’

‘Not a cat person?’

‘They’re ok in small doses. More of a dog person.’

You didn’t bother to wait for Bond’s response as you hurried around your flat. You cursed under your breath as you looked in your bag and couldn’t see your oyster card. You could’ve sworn you had it in this bag. You glanced over at your laptop when you heard the familiar ping of a message but didn’t go over straight away. You sighed in relief as your hand curled around the familiar card and pulled it free from its confines. Why was it whenever you were in a rush important things always went missing?

‘Does your landlord allow you to keep pets?’

‘What makes you think I’m renting?’

'Logic'

‘Not he doesn’t. But with how absent he is I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t notice if I got one anyway.’

You couldn’t help but let a hint of bitterness creep into your message. You glanced around your flat and grimaced at the repairs that needed to be done.

‘I thought that you would be able to find something on him to get him to do those repairs.’

‘I don’t blackmail.’

‘But you do hack in Government organisations.’

‘It’s not my fault you made this so easy.’

‘I’ll pass that onto Q. I’m sure he’ll be very happy to hear it.’

‘I’ve told him that plenty of times.’

‘And his reaction?’

‘To offer me a job on how to improve it.’

‘Seems fair.’

‘I’m sure your boss would love to have me on the pay roll.’

Your phone buzzed and once against you were distracted. You smiled at the message and quickly type out a response. You had to leave now otherwise you’d be late.

‘It’s been a pleasure as always, Mr Bond, but now I really must go.’

‘So soon?’

‘Unlike you, I have a life outside of this.’

‘Meaning?’

‘I have a date. Goodbye Mr Bond.’

And with that you logged off and went on with your life.

*

Bond was left with a strange feeling at your last message. He leant back in his chair and was only vaguely aware of Q approaching him. He leant over Bond’s shoulder as he read through your messages.

“Well then,” Q said, “hopefully this’ll give us some breathing space.”

“Yeah.”

Q frowned and looked down at Bond who was still looking at the screen.

“Bond?” he said

This seemed to snap Bond out of his thoughts. He stood up quickly and marched out of the room. Q glanced back at the computer before smiling. So, this is what Bond is like when he’s jealous. Interesting.

[cursethememory]

Fbdodndosbdodd why do streaming services make it so insanely awful to try to sign in on a device? My parents get hbo max as part of their cable package so I’m trying to sign in on my ps5. So I had to do their provider log in which requires scanning the code on my phone, signing into their cable account (including getting a code that was texted to my mom), then being told that if I don’t have the voice remote, I need to sign in with the max log in. So I go to do that, which tells me to use the code and follow the link on my computer to get to the sign in screen. I sign in and it says to continue streaming I need to reset the password. So now I need to log into my dads email, get the password reset link, and change his password. Like just fucking kill me

[numbugwritingblog]

The Miracle Mind of Serene: the Tale of a Girl and a Ghost (Chapter 2)

Previous Chapter

Index

---

18/01/2018

Serene swung back in her chair as she turned to face her phone, her telekinesis typing away at the computer without her even looking. “So! First of all, Mortis, I’m going to need you to gather up all of the information you can think of about Richard.”

“Well,” the phone blared out in that deep, distorted voice that it had whenever Mortis was talking through it. “He’s a bitch.”

Serene shook her head. “No, no, I mean anything that can help identify him. Stuff like surname, species, address, age at the time you, er… died.”

“Well…” Mortis paused for a moment, the only sound being that of Serene’s keyboard going clickety clackety on its own. “He was around 20, 30 years old, and… well I don’t know what his address was, but the people he brought into the United Federation arrived by boat on the South-East coast, and he’s a rat - that’s both literal and an insult.”

“Mortis, you can’t just call someone a rat like that.”

“... He’s a bitch. Is that there.”

“That’s… I suppose…” Serene turned back to the screen as the keyboard finished typing, her initial search starting. “Say, when did you die again?”

“1967.”

Serene stopped entirely, slowly turning in her seat to look at the phone. “... The 60s? Do-... Do you know how old he’d be then?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’d be like 50 or something.”

“No, he’s going to be 70 at the very least, maybe even 80.”

“... Fuck me.”

“He’ll be an old man who’s lived through most of his life by now,” Serene explained. “You sure you still want to find him? And not, I don’t know, find something else to do?”

“No. Finding him and drinking milk are the only two things I want now.”

“But-” Serene blinked in surprise at that last statement. “Wait, milk? I-”

“Milk is fucking delicious.”

She shrugged. “Alright, fair enough… But, well, what are you really going to do once you’ve found him and you’ve given him a piece of your mind?”

Mortis was quiet for a moment, before speaking up. “I assume I’d just fade away on the spot, like this is that unfinished business kind of deal.”

“You assume?” Serene asked aloud, staring at Mortis for longer. “Don’t you know what being a ghost even means? Maybe from other ghosts or-”

“Nah,” Mortis interrupted her outright. “I’m the only one I’ve ever known of, so I have to guess at what’s going on.’

That was when the doorbell suddenly rang, Serene flicking her head over to the approximate entrance.

“Eugh,” Serene grunted out as she rolled her eyes. “Just a moment, Mortis.”

“Why? What is it?”

“Oh, probably just a fan wanting to meet me,” she explained. “I always get some from time to time. Hard not to be famous when you’re the only psychic in the world.”

Mortis let out a huff, dropping out of the phone and following along behind Serene.

Serene immediately put on a smile moments before opening up the front door.

What she wasn’t expecting to see was a male buffalo in a suit, his I.D. labelling him as a government agent. “Serene Cirillo, you’re under arrest.”

Serene paused, her eyes slowly going wide as her smile faded very quickly. “Wh… Under what charges?” she mumbled out. Already her body was getting tense, hand clenching the door handle tightly.

“You violated your official agreement and went off surveillance”. The officer moved aside to escort Serene out.

Serene cleared her throat, holding out her hand. “Let me get my lawyer, because there’s clearly been a mistake-”

“At 9:01 PM last night you went off surveillance without approval.”

Serene glared at him, her eyes starting to have a faint white glow. “... I got approval. You can check the voice logs at 6:13 PM yesterday, the 17th.” She didn’t question how she knew the exact time down to the minute, right at this moment she knew something was wrong. Afterall, how could they forget? They never forgot.

The officer didn’t react beyond speaking further. “It likely is a misunderstanding, then, but until it’s cleared up you’re coming with us.” He then moved aside to give Serene the chance to walk out peacefully.

Serene hesitated, before seeing Mortis pass by and possess the agent right in front of her. “Mortis, no!” She held him in place, Mortis unable to even check the agent for any weapons. “Get out of him, now!”

“You know it’s bullshit,” Mortis hissed out in the officer’s voice. “There’s no way that they just-”

“Just stop,” Serene cut him off without pausing. “This is just going to make things worse. I’ll just get this misunderstanding sorted out, it won’t be long at all. Please.”

There was a long pause. Before finally Serene could see Mortis leave.

Serene then let the agent go, watching him drop to his knees as he hacked and coughed.

“I am following you now,” she explained immediately. “I am exercising my right to remain silent.”

The officer glared at her, but said nothing else as he let her lock the front door before cuffing her and bringing her along.

---

“Name?”

“Serene Cirillo.” God, even in interrogations Serene was still being asked the same routine.

“Age?”

“21.” Not a single thing had changed, despite the fact that it was a police officer instead of a neuroscientist.

“Occupation?”

“Can we just skip to the actual interrogations please?” Serene complained, getting to her feet. “It’s me, the psychic girl, and I can prove I’m the psychic girl real quick by using my psychic powers.”

With that she lifted herself off the ground, hovering for a few seconds before she landed back down. “Is that good? Do you believe that I’m the psychic girl now?”

The officer looked to Serene with a raised brow, but sat down in his chair all the same. “My apologies, miss Cirillo, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Serene dropped back down onto the chair, putting her hand on her forehead. “Thank you, it’s just… It’s been stressful. Today and yesterday.”

The officer nodded. “I understand why it’s so stressful, but hopefully we can resolve this swiftly. It says here that you’re under supervision due to your unique psychic powers.”

Serene didn’t say a word, instead nodding.

“And it says here you’re under arrest for endangering others via illegally interrupting that supervision-”

“6:03 PM yesterday, I rang up to organise my given week of no surveillance,” Serene repeated. “It’s in the logs.”

“I’m sorry, miss Cirillo,” the officer said with what seemed to be a genuine look of disappointment. “But the logs have already been provided, and there was no call from you yesterday.”

Serene’s eyes began glowing white again, silent as she processed this information. “... It must have been tampered with, then. I can provide evidence, too.”

The officer raised his brow again, looking back to Serene. “And what evidence is that?”

“Oh, it’s-” she paused, cogs turning in her head. They couldn’t have forgotten. And… And Mortis had to turn the surveillance off on her end… Why is she only realising now? They’re doing this on purpose. “... Actually, can I speak with Mortis first, please? He’s the ghost that’s been following around.”

The officer was very clearly trying to hold back a laugh, every fibre in his being telling him that laughter was a very poor action to take. Despite all of that, he still failed, a quick chuckle escaping his lips. “R-right,” he said, trying to regain composure - but it was already too late.

Serene blinked, looking over to the ball of fire that only she could see. “Mortis, can you hear me?”

Mortis obliged and flew into the officer, his posture abruptly changing. “Yeah, yeah, the sooner you’re done with this the sooner we can get back to business.”

Serene gave a nod. “Right. Before you even answer me, just ASAP, can you fly back home and into my phone, please? Guard it, just in case-”

She saw Mortis leave the officer’s body as he flew directly up.

At that same moment, the officer was hacking and coughing intensely, almost falling off of his seat. He slowly sat back up, eyes wide in realisation that he was just possessed for nothing more than a brief conversation. “You- the ghost- I-”

Serene nodded. “I haven’t been lying at any point in this interrogation, I promise.”

The officer let out a heavy sigh, getting to his feet. “Well for your sake, I hope you’re right. Don’t worry about Mortis, we’ll make sure the phone stays locked up in evidence until it’s time for the court case.”

With that, the officer turned and left the interrogation room, leaving Serene sitting there alone.

He turned to an officer that was waiting just outside, whispering into his ear. “There’s evidence in her phone, wipe it immediately. Don’t bring any weapons, and stick to a group of three or larger at all times. We don’t know what this ghost is willing to do, but he is real.”

---

Mortis had made his way back to Serene’s home (knowing full well in the back of his head that Serene’s bleeding heart was going to make him make it up for the unfortunate driver he used to get here).

The door was still locked, but that was no trouble, as he just phased through the door to get to the other side.

Guarding the phone… was going to be boring. As Mortis prepared himself for the dull task, he noticed something.

Serene’s computer was still on. And it was on a webpage. He slowly moved into the computer monitor right away, looking to see what he could.

…

He couldn’t scroll.

After a few awkward moments of moving between the monitor and the mouse, he managed to see what was on this webpage. Information on Richard. It looked like he founded a restaurant called the Delicious Den.

He could just go there, and linger until he found the little rat and-

Oh, he loved it so much.

… But they knew he’d be searching for Richard now, surely. Now it’s only a matter of Richard changing restaurants and he’d be back at square one. He couldn’t have that.

At least now he was getting help from that naive little girl, at least now he had a back-up if things went back to square one. So when he left the monitor, he made his way into the phone. He then lifted the phone up all the way to the roof. Might as well make it impossible to spot while he waited.

…

He might be able to make the machine do whatever he wanted, but that didn’t mean he knew how to navigate the web. Maybe now was the time to practice, while he’s stuck inside.

He tried to use this fancy schmancy search bar to find something to watch.

a… c… t… i… o… n… space… m… o… v… i… e… s…

…

Enter?

Ahah, that worked!

… What is all of this rubbish? Why does it look so fake? And why’s this one called volume 2? Guess they just can’t make movies anymore…

---

25/01/2018

Serene was confident that she’d come out of this court case with a success. Her lawyer was unusually incompetent, and the prosecutor was a clear expert, expertly weaving his words into compelling nothings. By all accounts, anyone would think this was a complete disaster.

But thanks to Mortis, she knew that her phone was safe.

And right she was, as when it came time to present that phone to court, the evidence that she had made the call was right in there, time and everything. Even despite the prosecutor trying to argue that the audio was faked, there was nothing he could say to throw it away as evidence.

So she was rather pleased with herself as she walked out of court as they pronounced her innocent, even managing to successfully argue for a full month of no surveillance. It was while she was walking out that a grizzly bear stepped out, wearing a government suit. It was the person in charge of her experimentation, General Thomas.

“Congratulations on the court case,” he spoke warmly, extending a hand. “I hope there’s no hard feelings, miss Cirillo.”

Oh, there were plenty of hard feelings. But Serene didn’t share any of them as she shook his hand. His grip was unusually fierce, her hand even hurting a little from it. “It’s okay, General. But I will be making sure the surveillance is actually off from now on. Hope you understand.”

He looked her right in the eyes with his good eye as he ended the handshake. Behind the smile Serene could see something focused, calculating.

“Of course, you can never be too careful. I’ll likewise be making sure that this embarrassment doesn’t happen again.”

Serene nodded, stepping to the side. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you for your next scheduled experiment in a month. Might even ask for two hours in exchange. Bye bye~” As she continued walking, she briefly twirled around in order to wave at him, smiling wide. Now it was a simple case of making her way to the bus stop.

An ear piercing, high pitched screech rang out from her phone, immediately followed by an annoyed huff from Mortis’s hellish voice.

“Wait for me, why don’t you?”

Serene let out a small giggle, turning the voice speaker off before putting the phone to her ear, as if she was making a phone call rather than talking with her ghost friend. “I did, I was talking with the man who was probably behind all of that. The big grizzly bear.”

“Oh him? He was angry as fuck, definitely trying not to swear in public.”

Serene let out a sigh, slowly shaking his head. “I really can’t believe they’d do this. I spent my whole life trusting them, and… eugh. I’m so glad I can trust you to help me out when I need it, I don’t know what I would’ve done with somebody.”

There was a small silence before Mortis answered. “Of course you can trust me.”

Serene smiled wide. She knew she could trust him, she had made the right call. It was then that the bus arrived. “Just a sec,” she said before lowering the phone.

Once she was on and seated, she brought the phone back to her ear. “And back.”

“Thank god, I was dying of boredom.”

Serene rolled her eyes. “Now that that’s dealt with, we’re going to continue looking into your reunion, aren’t we?”

“Sure am, while nobody was at your house I quickly checked what you left open on your computer. Richard was apparently the founder of some Delicious Den place.”

“Right, but…” Serene briefly pauses to look around, noting that around half of the bus has noticed her, some giving occasional looks, some trying to avoid eye contact entirely, and the few kids that are on the bus staring at her in awe. “... I can’t go as Serene. And besides, I’ve just gotten a big success, I really want to spend the night celebrating.”

She heard the long, drawn out groan from Mortis. “Fine, fine. But we’re going there tomorrow, no matter what.”

---

General Thomas was slumped in his office chair, his grip on his mug unusually tight. He was glaring at the files, just knowing what the week’s papers were going to say.

Psychic Girl Found Innocent Thanks to Supernatural Intervention!

All of his plans with experimentation on this psychic girl, ruined because of this stupid little ghost! This was going to set him back years if he can’t find a way to control the situation! Where did he even come from?!

No, no, he couldn’t let failure distract him, no matter how much it humiliated him. He had to figure out why Serene had searched up information about this ‘Richard’ individual, and why this ghost is helping her. Hopefully his employees have already-

“Sir.” He didn’t move, but his eyes glancing up to the agent that entered his office told that he was paying attention. “We’re in touch with Mr. Richard, and he’s asking for our protection in exchange for his information.”

At this, Thomas looked up to the agent, a brow raising. “Protection? From what?”

“From Mortis, sir. Claims that they knew each other.”

General Thomas paused, his frown slowly fading away. This could be the key to solving this little setback. “Very well. Let’s hear him out.”

---

Next Chapter

[my-breakup-playlist]

I've heard people with OCD talk about intrusive thoughts that take the form of a constant debilitating fear that you're secretly [a child abuser/a murderer/etc] and that you just didn't notice it yet, or that you're so deep in denial that you even managed to fool yourself.

I lived in constant fear that I was mentally/emotionally abusing my ex. To the point where I would regularly check with mutual friends and with our therapist, to see if there were any red flags-- hell, even any pink flags-- in my behavior that I needed to correct. Always the answer was no (but what if I'm just that good at covering my tracks, the fear says--)

He called me abusive.

Even then, our therapist said that no, I wasn't. Not even close.

And as many times as he said it, he only ever named two behaviors. Withholding affection (by 'affection' he meant specifically, explicitly, 'sex'-- to the point that I had to start marking sex on a calendar every time it happened, just so i had physical evidence that it hadn't in fact been months since the last instance) and invading his privacy (asking him to explain his thought process was deemed to be surveiling behavior-- I didn't touch his phone, I didn't go into his office or get on his computer except to play video games on it, always with his permission. His feelings, though-- those were off limits to me.)

Maybe that's some DARVO shit. I know that him calling it abuse actively played into those fears that I had confessed to him. He knew that calling it that was a sure-fire way to shut me down, and it always worked (even if he wasn't doing it intentionally, it got results, so why stop?)

Even now, more than a year since I last saw him face to face, I'm still wrestling with that fear.

Did I send an online order to his house because I was careless with autofill, or was that some secret subliminal plot to hurt him? Did I screw myself over financially with a bureaucratic blunder because I made a dumb mistake while stressed, or was it a cunning plot?

Which is dumb, because I know the answer. I was there.

But let's walk down that road for a minute. Let's say I've got a Tyler Durdan situation going on and I'm secretly, subconsciously doing these things to fuck with him.

I would have landed myself the single most milquetoast evil alter at the offensive-DID-stereotypes factory, if the most diabolical thing it can think of is to send him shampoo and request he log on to the BMV website. Worst case, he... What? Thinks about me in annoyance for a day? At worst, I've robbed him of the hour it takes to drive to my mom's house and back to drop something off.

I'm not contacting him directly or showing up at his house, in respect to the boundaries he set.

And the thing is? Maybe he's calling it abuse anyway. Maybe he's telling his friends and family that I'm actively terrorizing him or something. But even if he is, that's a him issue. Because of he wants to make me into a boogeyman, then there's nothing I can actually do to convince him otherwise. Every act and accident will be cast in the worst possible light anyway, regardless of reality.

Which is why I'm posting this here.

Because I tend to re-read these posts when I get twisted into knots about it all, and also because I'm probably not the only one who has this particular flavor of fucked up in a relationship. Maybe it'll help them, or future me.

Here's hoping.

[simmonsized]

⭐Star⭐

star! again! gasp, wheeze. the pressure to come up with something.

man i am terrible at coming up with things to talk about here

UPDATE: my friend has given me a list of things to talk about. since it's like, you know, once ask, one thing, I will be talking about, as @alexharrier put it, "The Significance of the Dorito Locos Tacos."

This is going to be a bit silly, and probably also not like, completely non-nonsensical. Bear with me, maybe?

(Inevitably we will also cover some of la petite mort. hoping i won't have to explain the name to anyone, since you know. it's one of those terrible jokes we all hate.) <- SPOILERS FROM FUTURE ME: we cover la petite mort (ch 6)

So I guess the way it started was my own, personal enjoyment of these little nightmares, but also because Doritos feature pretty heavily in my Striderian lore. Or rather, Nacho Doritos specifically are a staple part.

Why, you may ask?? Well, it's simple really.

It all comes back to Mad Snacks Yo.

Well, that and the Braj Shop from Paradox Space. The weird secret to me is like, I mean I don't actually care that deeply about canon specifics but i LOVE to make little nods and references to them

In this case, I guess I decided that Doritos, specifically nacho Doritos, were a Staple part of the Strider household diet, and then I just. Dug in. sometimes, the why is just "because it's fun," and because there were other little canon things that just kept leading me back to Nacho Doritos.

And! Since I was like, man poor Dirk probably has grown up with all these references to Taco Bell built into Alpha Dave's work, which, yes, I was this deep in at this point, I decided he would probably be deeply interested in seeing what fast food had to offer him.

That and, if you did not know, or are not Logged The FUCK into the Taco Bell wikia like I am, Nacho Doritos Locos Tacos came out in February of 2012. It's like the fucking stars aligned, my friends. It was meant to be.

Much like Dirk, some of my best ideas come to me in the shower. Most of the time I do not climb out to get my phone to text them to people, but. You know. Special cases and what have you.

Also not to-- well yes to get deep into it. When you're juggling a cast and such, sometimes finding moments Alone can be difficult. This chapter required me getting Bro and Dave alone. At this point in time, Dave has been avoiding Bro on purpose, basically shrugging him off onto Dave, letting him handle it because if he does the work, Dave doesn't have to think about it, and doesn't have to think about all the complicated feelings he has in relation to Bro being back from the dead. He's also still dealing with the Dirk thing so. Yeah, his shit is fucked up.

He needed to talk to someone who isn't Dirk, and talking to Rose didn't make him feel worse, but it didn't make him feel Better either. So you know, while not reliable, Bro is the only adult Dave has ever really known, except maybe like, five seconds of Dad Crocker right before the End of the Game.

Also I already talked about ch 16 but this is the start of Dave's real "Bro is Actually Here and is a Person": "You let that feeling build up in your chest, and find it at war with your desperate need to make sure he isn't dying again. Fuck you couldn't even get the katana out of his chest. You wonder, hysterically, if he's got a scar."

Idk if I talked about this but at this point Bro is still re-calibrating, kind of stuck in between "i'm alive??? does not compute" and being fuzzy and confused and tbh, quite fucked up lol. can we get into lil cal and his influence? yes. should we?? nah probably not. should Bro be driving???? nO????????????????? but god, who else will deliver us taco bell. ubereats did not rear it's ugly head til '15, and in some places we are sTILL struggling to get these doritos locos tacos to the people. it's a crime, really. RIP in peace to the fucking beefy nacho burrito, but may the beefy 5 layer live on in its spirit.

The other point of the Trip to Taco Bell is that it is (said above) Bro and Dave's first REAL interaction. this is Dave dealing with a person he hasn't known for three years, who is fundamentally the same, yet so, so different. Bro's thoughts are ?????? shaded from us at this point, but I think he cares less about actually being different rather than just doing what is "easier," and in this instance, this means conceding to Dave's visceral reactions to pretty much each and every single thing he does. he's annoyed, but he's also a jackass, so who cares about his feefees.

fun little parallel we see in ch 31 later first begins in ch 6 too (not taco bell related): You stare. He curtsies. You scowl.

Anyway so this is one of them Pivotal Car Scenes. It is the moment I consider one of my Most Important (i like to use the capitals for emphasis). There's a lot I could say but like, those conflicting feelings are super important to me. Dave saw Bro as this giant, a hero he could never live up to, and now he is just some tired dude, but also simultaneously the same person, but Dave(sprite) wants better, and Dave is realizing, maybe, just maybe, he is allowed to want better, too. That that first death doesn't have to be the end of everything.

And then of course the tacos. You know, first of all, they are fucking delicious. Second of all, it's a silly little bonding moment for them, and then becomes a moment that is so sincere that Dave ruins it by admitting to his uh. Compulsion. as it were.

Anyway so this is just i guess. the beginning of the Dorito Locos Tacos extended universe. The tacos and their conversation and the staple of that horrible neon orange shell has radiated throughout time and space (aka, several different fics, none of which i will mention here lol)

But more importantly, today my friends openly admitted that they cannot help but think of rng when they go to to taco bell, and really, what better legacy could i possibly have?

Basically the Dorito Locos Tacos managed to create a cornerstone First Step, as it were, and uh. Well to this day chapter 6 is still my absolute FAVORITE chapter i've ever written so! idk if that says anything about me but there we have it.

[thessalian]

Thess vs One Of Those Days

Well, today was a mess.

First, of course, was the early wake-up, the cramming myself onto a bus and barely getting a seat (at least on the first one; the second one was okay) and dragging my sorry self into work. I was not in good shape when I arrived. I was in worse shape after a half-hour of working, when I remembered just how shitty my ergonomic situation at the office is. Yes, corner desks are great, but when all you have is corner? It can be problematic.

And then, a half-hour in, my internet connection died. And not, like, throughout the department or the building. Just my computer and my phone, because our phones are internet phones. So I had to move to a different desk (less corner, but worse keyboard - I don’t know what the fuck Goblin does, but her screen’s a mess and her keyboard is sticky) for most of the day. This screwed with my workflow. When the IT guy eventually arrived (three hours after I logged the ticket; thanks for that), turns out that apparently some of the connections were clogged with dust and that made everything not work. Apparently the cleaning crew does sweet fuck all. So another dent in productivity as I took the lesser of two evils - at least my keyboard isn’t sticky.

Dumbest part? I was only called in because we were short on people (Goblin and our Friday part-timer were both off sick) so we’d have someone to mind the phones. Not counting the IT guy demanding I come pick him up from the elevators (Scruffman offered to go but I went specifically so that the jackass who refused to even look for the door to our office would know why maybe he should do his own legwork when someone sounds reluctant to make a trip to find him), the phone rang twice all day. I was not needed ... but I guess Scruffman wasn’t to know.

Anyway, decided that in a choice between trying to get on the 363 at Elephant and Castle with all the other commuters and taking the Overground everything from there to Peckham in the hopes of a less full bus, I’d take the latter. Didn’t help that they’re still ripping up one of the roads near the hospital (I swear, the traffic there hasn’t been normal in about six months) so the first bus trip would start slow and frustrating. The Overground ... wasn’t great. Had to wait for a seat because no one, not even the people sitting in the priority seats, would move for me. Not even the one using their seat as a bag rest. Only two stops, but not what I needed. Got out at Peckham, and ... well, Peckham’s always a little off. First there’s stairs. Then, at the bottom of the first flight, someone kicked my cane in an effort to shove past me and I nearly went flat on my face. Then another flight of stairs where people shoved past to get between me and the one handrail I can actually use, which I need to help balance me on stairs when it’s a bad pain day. So I had to make it downstairs with only the support of my cane and with the worry of having the people brushing past me get too close and knock me down the fucking stairs. Thankfully they did not, but I don’t need that anxiety, thank you.

Got out just in time to see my bus go by, so I stopped at the nearest grocery store (the only one that wouldn’t require me to cross a road, at least) to see if I could find myself a treat. I found some fruit for the dehydrator (they were having a sale), some more oat milk, and toffee poporn ice cream bars, which I am looking forward to trying. Not that lugging any of that home was any fun at all, but still.

Even when I got home, it wasn’t straight to relaxing. I could have maybe waited another day to put some of my fruit in the dehydrator, but also didn’t really want to take that chance. If it weren’t for that slicer gadget @fauxfire76 bought me awhile ago, I wouldn’t have been able to, but I managed, and now I have very thin slices of pears turning into pear chips in the dehydrator. Hopefully the painkillers will have kicked in by the time those are done so I can put in the nectarines I bought.

I have at least now had time to sit down and take the aforementioned painkillers. They haven’t quite kicked in yet, but soon, I’m sure. Then I will have dinner of leftover curry (because like fuck am I cooking right now) and then episodes of The Legend of Vox Machina when I feel less like screaming.

At least I have a week off now.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Down Time...

Alright...That should about do it.

*Kuripa, Rantaro and Kibin all sit on the first-floor lounge while Nico on the scaffolding closes down the computer and climbs down the ladder towards them.

The analysis is complete, and now the data just needs to process into the Symettra. I don’t know if it will be finished in time, but...It will most certainly come down to the wire at best.

*sigh* I suppose it will have to do. Thank you, Nico.

Hey, you brought it up before, but...what IS this “Symettra” thing? Isn’t that like...an Overwatch character?

It’s a surprise tool that’ll help us later.

...

...You don’t have to look so grouchy...

So...What happened back then is still playing on your mind?

...Rantaro said he’s answer my questions as soon as we got back...

...You will...won’t you?

...With as much honesty as I can, but since the Symettra is Nico’s secret project, I’m not the one to ask.

But if you wanna rapidfire questions, go for it?

To be honest...Giving it a bit of thought, I only really have ONE. And I’m the sure that you know what that is...

*He leans in.

Why the fuck were Shuichi Saihara and Kaede Akamatsu even HERE?

Akamatsu said that you called her here, but...Kibin told me afterwards you didn’t mean to. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

...Well, that’s complicated...

Then you’d better start making it real simple, real soon...

Alright, alright...I got into contact with Kaede and Shuichi the same way I did you. You went on the ERR0RM3SS4GE website and I initiated a direct call to you.

A couple of hours before that, I had sent an anonymous letter to Club La Vitesse to inform someone that I needed their help. And that to get in contact with me, they needed to use this method.

That “someone” being the person sitting next to you right now.

Kibin!?

...

Yeah. In case you hadn’t already figured it out, Kibin was the one who cleared out half the factory before we arrived. I figured her covert ops skills could...come in handy.

Luckily for us, she agreed almost instantly...as soon as we showed her the pay of course.

Oh, of fucking course it was the money.

Heh...You know how it is for me, tiger. For the right price? I’ll help anyone. Plus, I can’t always rely on you to be my sugar daddy.

Right, but...how the fuck did Shuichi and Kaede get roped into this?

Something happened that I wasn’t expecting. At around the same time I informed Kibin to contact me, Shuichi and Kaede ALSO logged into the website.

Seeing as the source was from Club La Vitesse, I of course, assumed that it was Kibin who had logged in, so I infiltrated the PC and started a call...Only to be caught unpleasantly off guard.

You know, I WAS thinking that this method could easily backfire. For a worldwide hacker organization, this isn’t very smart.

Well, excuse you! It’s one of the only safe and secure ways we can go about our business.

Digital mails, phone calls and video calls can all be tracked by the government and Future Foundation. With the ERR0RM3SS4GE original algorithm, we don’t need to risk that.

Sure, it’s got it’s bugs, but...at least we don’t get interrupted.

Well...you DID get interrupted. By Shuichi and Kaede...

He’s got a point.

Hmph!

But why didn’t you just...end the call?

By that time they had noticed me, and if I didn’t come up with an excuse, they could have easily reported to the authorities or their bosses that ERR0RM3SS4GE was stalking them.

I had to think of something, so...I decided to call them over here to help out.

*Rantaro bows his head.

But as you know, that didn’t work out in the long run. I apologize...and I accept whatever blame you lay on me.

...

Gonna be honest Rantaro...

A part of me wants to lunge at you and tear your head off...but...

That’s less to do with your actions and more because I’m just...SO...ANGRY...right now...

I understand...

I have one more question for you though.

Those kids...they KNEW you...You’ve met them before, haven’t you?

...

But where? And how?

Actually, I think I already know the answer. I just want him to confirm it.

Rantaro...You’re...not from this world, are you?

...

You’re one of the 16 people who participated in Dangarnonpa V3, right? That’s how you know them. You come from the same world they do.

...Yeah. That’s right. Actually, those two have spent the last few years looking for me.

My Ultimate Talent is the Ultimate Survivor...Not only did I participate in Dangaronpa V3, but I ALSO participated in the Killing Game BEFORE that. And I was the penultimate winner.

Seriously...!?

Yeah...But that’s a story for another time.

Aside from me, there’s only one member of the original lineup that’s still missing. And...Kaede and I have a notably interesting history...

Interesting in what regard?

Because for the longest time...Kaede thought that she had murdered me...

...

Elaborate...

*Rantaro takes a few minutes to explain the entire situation, from start to finish.

That’s...wow...That’s a lot to take in...

For real. I’d heard bits and pieces of this story but...not the full thing.

Later on, when everyone came upon my body, everyone was mystified as to why and how I was killed. Due to the altered crime scene and nobody other than Tsumugi knowing what really had transpired, Kaede was shocked and horrified at the thought that she had killed me instead of her intended target.

As a result, everyone was fooled into believing that Kaede was the culprit during the Class Trial, including Kaede herself, and it was made worse by the fact that she was unable to expose Tsumugi during the trial.

That’s so...FUCKING unfair...! Guess Shirogane’s not as inclined to the game as we all thought she was.

I doubt Tsumugi intends to participate in the Killing Game this time around, so it wouldn’t be a worry.

No, she won’t...Because we’re gonna stop Survivor before it happens.

...I like the way you think.

But...on that note, I need to apologize. I believe that I may be partially to blame for Kaede’s actions.

Wh-Why?

Something was eating at her. You noticed it too, right? She wasn’t in her right frame of mind from the moment she showed up. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but seeing me and being reminded of what happened...that guilt she felt...it probably didn’t help.

After the Future Foundation refused to work with me in light of the whole “kill Katagiri” thing, a part of me realized that Shuichi and Kaede might refuse too...

And that’s...fine and all, but...I didn’t think she would attack us and try to steal the drive...

It’s alright Rantaro. I’m sorry I got mad earlier.

Does that mean...?

That our partnership and arrangement is still on? Obviously! I’ve come too far to back out now.

No matter what’s transpiring, and no matter if the Future Foundation comes hunting me down for this, someone HAS to do something. WE have to do something!

But...I am really tired...and sad...and angry right now.

It’s ok. We won’t attack Central Park until tomorrow night. Take a day to rest and recover should you need it.

Actually...about that...

*Everyone looks at Nico.

I’ve decided. We have an arrangement with the rest of our group, so...the place is yours tonight Kuripa.

Don’t break or touch any of the equipment obviously, but if you want to relax here tonight, you’ll have plenty of space to.

Are you sure Miss Himuro?

I think you could use it. Just...take the time to catch up with your girlfriend. That’s ok with you, right Rantaro?

It’s more than fine. See you tomorrow night.

*After packing up, and after a quick pat on Kuripa’s shoulder, Rantaro follows Nico to the elevator. Nico gives on last wave of goodbye before she and Rantaro head down.

...*sigh*.

*Kuripa leans forward, with his head in his hands. Kibin looks at him with worry.

Hey...You ok...?

...No, I’m NOT ok! I’m very...very...VERY NOT OK! Ugh!

*He pauses for a moment to compose himself.

...I...I meant what I said...you know? Kaede and Shuichi, I...I only ever loved them...They’re great kids and...they’re wonderful to be around...And look what I DID! I lost control, I let my anger get the better of me...and Kaede almost DIED!

Not just that...I punched Kyoko...I abandoned Boss and the others...I even forced Maya away!

...

...I’m...I’m pushing away the only friends I’ve ever had...The only people who ever gave me a place to belong-What...

What the fuck am I doing Kibin...!?

*sigh*...

*Kibin pulls herself up the sofa and nestles in closer to him. She rests her head on his shoulder.

I’m gonna be real Kuripa. Aside from Kanjiro and his late wife, I didn’t really have anyone I considered a friend before I met you...So if you want advice then...I’m the wrong person to give it to you.

...But I can damn well try...

...!

*Kibin suddenly grasps Kuripa’s face.

You’re not a monster Kuripa...You’re a hero! You’re just...a hero on a different side.

Not the wrong side...Just...YOUR side...And I’m on your side too.

So is Rantaro, so is Nico...Hell, even Maya is probably still somewhere on your side. You DON’T have to be the mindless, murderous, hostile creature that they think you are. Believe me, that much I know.

Do ya...?

I’m a hitwoman honey. In case you forgot. But now, I spend less of my life hurting people and more time helping them. And that’s because I met YOU.

You have your issues...You have...a LOT of issues, but...you ARE doing the right thing, even if your methods aren’t...let’s say, “morally acceptable.”

And soon, the Future Foundation...if they are the family you think they are? They’ll understand that.

...Heh...Thanks...

*Kuripa hugs her. The two share an embrace for a short while.

Although...Something else just occurred to me...

Now that Rantaro and Nico have left...and they said we had the place to ourselves tonight...I’ve just realized, this is the first time you and I have been in complete privacy together for...well...MONTHS!

Holy shit, you’re right...Hm...

Welp...Since you and me are completely alone...are you thinking what I’M thinking~?

Hmmmmm~? What’s thaat~?

*Kibin pulls her cellphone out of her pocket.

Want me to show you the pictures I took of the stray cats around the club!?

Um! Of FUCKING-COURSE I do!

[charubblogs]

Reaserch log one

date: -redated-

scientist conducting testing: -redated-

reaserch subject dubbed "Cherry sour" due to the bait used and colorations on the subjects cheek protrusions.

attitude of subject aptly has remained combative to all forms of authority or commands. two agents in subject handling have recived small injuries, allowing me to find my first peice of information about the species.

the extraterrestrials jaws are a vary complex mechanism, with the ability to tighten its face to more resemble what seems to be a facsimile of a human skull or loosen it to give a set of false lips. behind the first set of jaws is a secondary jaws resembling that of a phython, set backwards to ensure that once bitten, the target has little recourse in escape.

subject shows human level of intellagaince, able to operate celluler devices, computers and modi, even creating its own from what seem to be scraps.

communication attempts one through three have been transcriped and will be attached to the end of the document.

findings from communication attempts:

subject dosent seem to register attempts to switch languges even in the middle of sentances. seemingly able to learn how to communicate in the new languge with abnormal speed to near native levels as long as they hear enough of the languge first.

cherry sour shows misanthropic tendancies, showing little empathy towards their victims nor their attempts to falsely imprison a human for their home.

subject responds well to trade attempts, tradeing information about their species for a box of "cherry sours" and the ability to speak freely and honestly for their cell phone.

they seem willing to trade a computer for the ability to speak with their "sister". will ask head-quarters to provide a cheap gameing computer to see if over-tradeing will result in extra information or the ability to run small physical tests.

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

Communication attempt one: subject brought to holding facility, reaserch under heavy guard and only allowed to commuicate with subject outside of barrier.

-redacted-: Could you please state your name?

subject: YES, THAT WOULD BE MR.EAT MY ASS, THATS FIRST MIDDLE AND LAST NAME

-Redacted-: Could you tell me why you attacked the agents transporting you here?

subject: THEY TRIED TO TAKE MY FUCKING PHONE, SO I MADE SURE THEY PAID THEIR DUES FOR EACH ATTEMPT.

-redacted-: and what would you have tried to take if they managed to succeed?

Subject: PROPS THEIR HAND LOL? I DONT KNOW, DEPENDS ON THE "AGENT"?

-redacted-: I see. can you tell me where you come from? why did you attack Frank quichmen?

Subject: OH MY GOD, HIS NAME WAS ***BITCH-MAN***??? PFFF HAHAHAHAHA, OH MY GOD HE FUCKING DESERVED WHAT HE GOT, HOW THE FUCK DO YOU GO THAT LONG WITH ***BITCH-MAN*** AS YOUR LAST NAME?!

-redacted-: please stay on topic.

Subject: UUGH, FINE...i DIDNT WANT TO LIVE IN THE RIVER ANYMORE

-Redacted-: you can live underwater?

subject: YOU CANT? DAMN, SKILL ISSUE.

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

subject at this point lost intrest in the conversation and loudly played music from their phone, no longer responding to any form of verbal response. Second commnication attempt starts when seemingly at random the subject began speaking to me when i was makeing rounds.

subject: I FOUND A HOUSE, TOOK IT AND THEN THAT BITCH ASS JERK FRANK WALKED IN AND TRIED TO "TAKE IT BACK" WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS, SO I KEPT HIM IN THE BASEMENT.

-redacted-: you didnt feel the need to kill him?

subject: LOL, OF COURSE, DUDE WAS SO FUCKING ANNOYING, WHINING CONSTENTLY, BEGGING WHEN I WAS FUCKING PUB STOMPING IN PIRATES 101...

-redacted-: oh I have a kid that loves that game...so what stopped you?

subject: WELL MY SISTER WOULD THROW A BITCH FIT ABOUT IT, SO WHY WOULD I DEAL WITH A TOTALLY UNTASTY LOSER, A MESS AND SOMEONE HARANGING ME ABOUT MY OBJECTIVLY CORRECT DESCISIONS REGARDING SOMEONES LIFE.

-redacted-: you said sister, you have a sibling? we only recorded one pick up...

subject: YEAH.

-redacted-: so that would mean shes still out there?

Subject: MAYBE.

-Redacted-: i see where not getting anywhere like this...

Subject: I DONT WANT TO ANSWER A RANDOM WIMPS QUESTION WHEN IM FUCKING STARVEING

-Redacted-: really? where you never provided the ration pack?

subject: THAT FUCKING GREEN THING??? YEAH I ATE IT, BUT IT HAD NOTHING IN IT, JUST MUSHY ASS FILLERS AND WERID METALS, TASTY METALS BUT NOTHING, I NEED REAL FOOD!

-redacted-: we can set up something with the chef to see what you would find more fullfilling, for right now all I can really offer are some cherry sours I got from the gas station

subject: OH FUCK FOR REAL? HELL YES, HURRY AND HAND EM OVER, ASK AWAY DUDE

Subject: I FOUND SOME OF THESE IN A WERID BUILDING AND SNAGGED A FEW BAGS AND THEIR SO GOD DAMN GOOD, PERFECT TEXTURE, PERFECT TASTE, THE PLANET KNOWS HOW TO DO CONFECTIONS~

-Redacted-: really? well... if you can help me learn a bit more, im sure I can get you some more, maybe even introduce you to some other Cherry candies.

Subject: SHIT...FINE, DEAL, JUST HAND THE BACK OVER, THOSE FINGERS BERELY HAD ANY MEAT ON THEM

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

conversation ended as subject ate through what may have been 4 pounds of cherry sour balls. we had agents go and quickly collect a small stock pile to futher tempt the subject but they seem to lack any ability to stop themselves, only stopping when they find that there is none left.

third communication attempt.

subject: YEAH YOU GOT HER TO, YOU'LL MEET HER WHEN I DECIDE TO GO TO SLEEP.

-Redacted- and how does that work...?

subject: I DONT KNOW??? SHES THE ONE THAT KEEPS TRACK OF THE BIOLOGY SHIT, SOMETHING ABOUT HOW THE HALFS OF OUR BRAIN ARE ADVANCED ENOUGH TO HOST SEPERATE CONCIOUSNESS???

-redacted-: I cannot think of a singuler reason why you would need something like that... regardless, would it be possible to speak with her?

SUBJECT: WHAT? NO, I DONT WANT TO GO TO SLEEP, SHES GOING TO THROW A FUCKING FIT

SUBJECT: SHES GOING TO FUCKING TEAR INTO ME BECAUSE IM SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT A SECOND HOUSE WITH COOL SHIT IS ACTULLY A TRAP, SPEAKING OF WHICH, I NEED TO KICK FRANKS ASS FOR THIS!

-redacted-: we can talk about that later, for now, we can perhaps help assuage your sisters fear by providing some more furniture, a computer, bed, things like that. but we do need you to start helping us more, do you understand?

Subject:... FINE, BUT I WANT TO SEE THE COMPUTER FIRST.

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

reaserchers final evaluation:

subject is violent, crude and seemingly incapable of remorse. recommending tightened security or a custom facility to be made. subject can be subdued easily but should negotations fail we can learn just as much from a cadaver as we can a live subject.