#database masking

[neilsblog]

Ensuring Data Privacy with Data Masking: Techniques, Benefits, and Best Practices

In today’s data-driven world, organizations collect vast amounts of data to improve their products and services, enhance user experiences, and support business development. However, to maximize the value of this data, it must be shared with multiple teams, both internal and external, for various scenarios such as development, testing, training, and Data Masking. The use of productive data for…

[pokemanix]

Official Professor Kukui Cards from the Pokémon TCG

Professor Kukui (124 and 148) - Sun & Moon The Masked Royal (139) - Sun & Moon: Celestial Storm The Masked Royal (085/SM-P) - SM-P Promo Rockruff (TG07) - Sword & Shield: Silver Tempest Trainer Gallery Rockruff (11) - Satoshi vs Team Rocket Battle Set Professor’s Research (Professor Kukui) (168) - Starter Deck Generations

[chaosringvows]

hello there, doctor... 😳

[orphiicheartd]

Of those who went to Playful Land, Vil came out of it with a surprising aversion to all things puppets. And a constant Urge to scratch at the right side of his face, fearful of feeling wood rooted in there rather than human skin. Even months afterward, he'd still feel a certain ick when dealing with anything related to puppets and will have a blatantly obvious fear response to finding even stray sticks in his hair.

He wasn't really able to stomach having ribbons on his wrists or even wearing harnesses for commercial or modeling gigs he did that year for a bit either. He'd tossed the clothes from Playful Land in the back of the Film club's costume shed, as he didn't want them to go to waste even still. He'd even asked the other's willing to give theirs up to store them in there too. He doesn't think he would be able to use them for anything, though, as just the idea of wearing that ensemble again is Abhorrent to him. Even the mere thought of Epel try one on left him feeling nauseous.

[arolesbianism]

Was going to do some oni file digging but got too distracted playing the actual video game. Anyways look at her <3

[apatheticsunday]

Apprentice of the Butler

AKA "Alfred Pennyworth hires an interim butler while he recuperates from a Rogue attack. Who better than adoption bait Danny Fenton?" prompt!!

Okay, so imagine Danny moves to Gotham to pursue astrophysics at Gotham-U but he's having a surprisingly difficult time keeping a job. Every time he gets hired, the place gets burned down or blown up by Rogues; it's like he's catnip for trouble. Somehow, he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Alfred Pennyworth also happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's at the Gotham Market Co-op, where Danny's been recently hired, and suddenly it's gassed by Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. All the employees and customers scramble to put on their gas masks, but Danny's new enough that he has no idea what's happening. He's suddenly seeing Fright Knight, Dark Pariah, and the GIW. So, he Goes Ghost, defeats all of Scarecrow's goonies, and saves the day! If only his boss would think so, too.

Uh, no. Apparently Danny's now on a Wanted List as an undocumented meta?? And his boss can't be investigated by the GCPD (he's, like, four years behind on taxes and has been dodging the IRS for longer), so he regretfully has to let Danny go. But, hey! Maybe if he becomes a documented meta, he can get hired back. Except Danny can't because the GIW can access the meta registration database and he'll be found out faster than he can leave Gotham.

So, Danny's fired again.

And Alfred "Pride & Honor" Pennyworth?? He's not gonna let the child who saved him (because Scarecrow absolutely was going to snatch the Wayne's butler, who better to take hostage than a billionaire's publicly beloved Father Figure??) possibly become homeless. It's clear the kid is a college student and is barely scraping by, probably paying way too much for room and board at Gotham-U. And... maybe his wrist hurts a bit from a fall. He's older now, it's not impossible that he'd get a sprain or a broken bone. (Plus, Alfred knows the look. The same one as Dick, Jason, Tim, even Bruce. There's an immense grief in those small shoulders, fear and loneliness.)

Cue Alfred hiring Danny on as an interim butler while he recuperates (oh, he's terribly injured, thank you so much for helping me, my boy-). And Danny can't say no. I mean, this old man got injured during the Rogue attack he was apart of! And he's asking for help! And it's also nice to have some money. And a bed and... oh, God, he's working for a billionaire frootloop. Uh-oh.

(Alfred absolutely doesn't tell Bruce about his new son apprentice. It's worth it to see Bruce's eyes glaze over as sees a black-haired teenager standing in the kitchen with Alfred, then doing a double take when he realizes it isn't Jason. And the others are banned from the kitchen, so who is this child in his house?? It's not Kon or Jon either??)

Meanwhile, Danny is actually having a great time with Mr. Pennyworth!! The older man is kind, soft-spoken, and really knows his stuff. Danny really enjoys learning how to cook, especially because none of the food comes alive to fight him. Eventually the Batfam just become used to seeing Danny in the kitchens, gardens, around the house with Alfred. He's a cute kid, always smiling and talking about his college classes. He has effortless sarcastic banter with both Damian and Jason, bonds with Tim about some kind of difficult mechanical mathematics or something, trades dad jokes with Dick. He even manages to win over Cass, Steph, Duke, and Babs.

The only one Danny doesn't truly seem to like is Bruce Wayne, although he never outright disrespects him, since he pays the bills and Danny's midwestern manners kick in. Bruce is confused and very concerned because why is this kid literally glaring daggers at him all the time?? Is he going to poison Bruce's coffee?? Danny's just trying to figure out if Bruce Wayne is a "collects vintage dentures" or "keeps teenagers locked in his basement" type of billionaire frootloop. (He'd kinda prefer the kidnapping, Danny does not want to go looking for a wine cellar and find an entire basement of old teeth.)

Bonus if Bruce tries to subtly win the boy over and Danny's just like, squinting at him, white-knuckling a frying pan and muttering, "That's exactly what someone who collects teeth would say..."

[velvet-milk]

──── everybody knows that i'm a good boy, officer...

❤︎──── pairing: dick grayson x officer!reader.

❤︎──── summary: ❛❛as the newest cop on blüdhaven’s force, you hated masked freaks. nightwing, the masked freak himself, wants nothing more than your delicious, sweet approval. and maybe your naked body.❞

WARNINGS. dick wants your pussy so much he looks fucking stupid. 18+, jerking off. authority kink on his part. he loves a hot woman in uniform. hints of sub nightwing. female reader. officer reader. ©velvet-milk.

❤︎──── The first time he saw you, he had just taken down two armed robbers outside a liquor store — easy work, nothing fancy. A normal friday night for him. Dick was still catching his breath, escrima sticks holstered, the night wind tugging at his suit as he turned toward the flashing lights of the approaching squad car.

He muttered something to Oracle about the cops in the area and cut his comms. The flashing lights bathed the street in red and blue, casting just enough glow to catch the look you gave him — bored, patronizing, and vaguely amused. But the moment the window rolled down, he got hit with your full pretty face. And rude tone.

"Sweetheart, I know times are hard and stuff, but soliciting’s still a crime in this part of town."

Nice.

Your partner let out a strangled noise beside you. She leaned toward you like she could physically stop the words from coming out of your mouth, but it was far, far too late. You didn’t flinch. Just blew a bubble with your gum and popped it. Dick glanced down at himself �� the skintight suit, the very iconic symbol across his chest — then looked back up at you.

"I literally just stopped a robbery."

You shrugged, unimpressed. "Cool. And I just filed a report. We all have hobbies."

To his credit, Dick didn’t get mad. Just gave you this slow, stunned little laugh, like he wasn’t sure if he was offended or intrigued.

"Wow. And here I thought I had a decent relationship with the BHPD after all these years."

You smiled sweetly, razor-sharp. "Oh, don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against sex workers."

Your partner in the passenger seat looked like she wanted to crawl into the glove compartment. She pressed a hand to her face and whispered, horrified, "Oh my God… that’s Nightwing."

You didn’t even flinch.

"Night-who?" you said, glancing at her like she’d just made up a word. "Why would I know his stage name?"

She turned to you, pale. "He’s, like… famous. National superhero famous."

Yeah, he fucking was. Thank you very much.

He took one last look at you — still lounging behind the wheel, smirking like you hadn’t just verbally curb-stomped a national hero. The other cop couldn’t even meet his eyes. Poor woman looked like she wanted to dissolve into her seat from secondhand embarrassment.

"Have a good night, officer," he said, voice clipped but smooth.

Then he turned on his heel, tapped his comms. "Oracle, remind me to review Blüdhaven precinct relations tomorrow," he muttered, raising his escrima stick and firing the grapple line. "Preferably before I set myself on fire again."

The line snapped taut, and he vanished into the night sky.

❤︎──── Of course he kept tabs on you after that night. You called him a hooker, straight to his face, and somehow looked obscenely hot while doing it. What was he supposed to do after that? Move on?

He was a simple man. A simple man with a morally flexible sense of privacy and way too much access to high-end surveillance tech. At the moment, he had four tabs open on the BHPD’s internal database. When Babs and Tim asked, he muttered something about "tracking a person of interest in the department."

Which, technically, wasn’t a lie. You were very interesting. You had a sharp mouth, a mean stare, perfect lips, and the kind of tits that made even the Nightwing suit feel a little tight.

"Yeah," he mumbled to himself, eyes fixed on your ID photo. "That’s the suspect. Definitely her."

He kept digging. It wasn’t enough to memorize your patrol schedule and ID badge, no, he had to go deeper. He found your Police Academy files. Graduated top of your class. Commendations in firearms, tactical response, and, of course, disciplinary reports for "insubordination" and "excessive sarcasm."

Then came your field test footage. Blurry body cam recordings. One of you talking down a suspect at gunpoint with zero backup. Another of you pinning a guy twice your size to the hood of a cruiser.

Very sexy of you, officer.

So he kept in close contact with the BHPD — closer than he needed to, if anyone was being honest about it. It had been years since Dick hung up the badge. But as Nightwing, he still had full access to department files, incident reports, internal memos, almost everything. All the tools of his former life, right at his fingertips.

And he’d been using them for one very specific reason. You. Every report you wrote, every arrest logged under your badge number, every disciplinary note with your name at the top, he read them all. More than once. It wasn’t intel gathering anymore. It was something else.

Something worse.

And you looked at him like he was a freak, every single time he showed up at a crime scene near your precinct. Last time, there was a body on the floor, half a dozen uniforms already securing the perimeter, and you crouched low, gloves on, examining blood spatter like it was just another tuesday. He tried to offer something helpful, something sharp, something detective-y.

You didn’t even look up.

"Sure thing, doll," you said, tone dry as bone. "Let me know if you wanna borrow a flashlight."

Then you stood, brushed past him, and kept working. He was still standing there ten seconds after you walked away, jaw tight, pride stinging, wondering what the hell was wrong with him that that turned him on. The dismissal. The uniform. The way your hips moved when you walked.

Jesus, he hadn’t been that hard in months.

Later that night he found himself alone in his apartment, right after patrol, hand wrapped tight around his cock, jerking off with embarrassing urgency to the mental image of your thighs straining against those uniform pants. He moaned softly, his thumb touching his leaking tip.

Dick could almost see it when he closed his eyes with a tiny whimper.

You, officer, climbing into his lap in the backseat of your cruiser, straddling him like you owned him. Belt undone, holster still strapped to your thigh. His hands cuffed behind him, helpless to do anything but take it.

You’d ride him so fucking hard, your pretty little pussy gripping him tight, warm and soaked around his cock. One hand tangled in his black hair, yanking when he got too mouthy, the other braced against the fogged-up glass of the car window as your hips slammed down, again and again, using him like a fucking toy.

He’d choke on a groan, eyes rolling back, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, because you wouldn’t let him finish until you were done. Until you were shaking on top of him, breathless and spent, nails dragging down his chest.

He came faster than he wanted to. Pathetic, really. He groaned your name like a fucking prayer, teeth sunk into his own wrist to keep quiet, while hot, messy cum spilled over his fist, his stomach, his shirt — hips jerking up off the mattress, desperate for more.

Desperate for you.

He looked up at the ceiling with a sigh, hands still sticky with his own cum like some desperate, horny teenager who’d never even touched a woman.

What the hell had you done to him, officer?

[innovativeroutinesinternational]

Unveiling the Power of Database Masking Tools and Data Obfuscation Tools in Safeguarding Sensitive Information

In the age of information, where data is both a valuable asset and a potential liability, safeguarding sensitive information has become a top priority for organizations across industries. Database masking tools and data obfuscation tools have emerged as indispensable assets in the realm of data security. In this blog post, we will explore the significance of these tools, their key features, and the crucial role they play in protecting sensitive data.

Understanding Database Masking Tools

Database masking tools, also known as data masking tools, are specialized software solutions designed to protect sensitive information by replacing, encrypting, or scrambling original data in non-production environments. The primary goal is to create a secure testing and development environment without exposing confidential information.

Key Features of Database Masking Tools

1. Dynamic Masking: Database masking tools: employ dynamic masking techniques to alter data in real-time, ensuring that sensitive information is not exposed during testing or development activities. This allows organizations to maintain the realism of their datasets while protecting privacy.

2. Preservation of Data Relationships: One of the challenges in data masking is preserving relationships between different data elements. Advanced database masking tools can intelligently mask data while maintaining referential integrity, ensuring that the relationships between entities are preserved for accurate testing scenarios.

3. Format-Preserving Masking: To ensure the integrity of data formats, some database masking tools utilize format-preserving masking techniques. This approach maintains the original data format while obscuring the actual content, providing a balance between security and usability.

4. Role-Based Access: Database masking tools often incorporate role-based access controls, allowing organizations to define who has access to the original data and who sees the masked or obfuscated data. This granular control enhances security and ensures that only authorized personnel can view sensitive information.

Understanding Data Obfuscation Tools

Data obfuscation tools, on the other hand, focus on concealing sensitive information by modifying or replacing it with fictional or randomized data. These tools are not limited to databases and can be applied across various data storage and transmission channels.

Key Features of Data Obfuscation Tools

1. Randomization Techniques: Data obfuscation tools use randomization techniques to replace sensitive information with fictitious or random data. This ensures that even if a breach occurs, the exposed data is of no value to malicious actors.

2. Tokenization: Tokenization is a powerful data obfuscation technique that involves replacing sensitive data with unique tokens. These tokens are meaningless without the corresponding mapping, which is securely stored, providing an additional layer of security.

3. Data Encryption: While data encryption is primarily a security measure, it also contributes to data obfuscation by rendering the information unreadable without the appropriate decryption key. This is especially crucial during data transmission and storage.

Real-World Applications

1. Healthcare Data Protection: In the healthcare sector, where protected health information (PHI) is highly sensitive, database masking tools and data obfuscation tools play a crucial role in ensuring compliance with regulations such as the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA). By obfuscating patient data during testing and development, organizations can create a secure environment without compromising privacy.

2. Financial Data Security: Financial institutions deal with vast amounts of sensitive financial data. Database masking tools are essential in protecting this information during software development and testing, ensuring that applications are thoroughly tested without exposing confidential financial details.

3. Compliance with Privacy Regulations: Data protection regulations such as the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) and the California Consumer Privacy Act (CCPA) mandate strict measures to safeguard personal data. Database masking tools and data obfuscation tools aid organizations in complying with these regulations by minimizing the risk of  unauthorized exposure.

Conclusion

As organizations continue to grapple with the challenges of balancing data usability and security, database masking tools and data obfuscation tools emerge as indispensable components of a comprehensive data protection strategy. By seamlessly integrating these tools into their workflows, businesses can create secure environments for testing and development while safeguarding sensitive information from potential breaches. In an era where data privacy is non-negotiable, investing in advanced database masking and data obfuscation tools is not just a best practice but a strategic imperative for maintaining trust, compliance, and the overall security of sensitive information.

[the-ugly-swan]

★ꓸ 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗘 !

𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗚𝗨𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗘

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝗨𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬: ❪ 𝗭𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗔-𝟬𝟲 ❫

𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗬 𝗭𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗕-𝟬𝟲

𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘:

Amelia Esmeralda De La Vega.

𝗔𝗚𝗘:

30 years old. ❪ present day ❫

𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥:

Female.

𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬:

American.

𝗦𝗣��𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗦:

Human.

𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡:

B-06

𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗧:

Earth.

Earth 1.

𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗧:

Earth.

Earth 1.

𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧-𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘:

Big City.

Mount Justice.

𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗦:

Lady Zorro. ❪ alter-ego ❫

Amelia. ❪ first name ❫

Amy. ❪ most common nickname ❫

Doña Amelia. ❪ by her butler Bernardo Montez ❫

Doña Zorro. ❪ by Wally West ❫

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗚𝗢:

Lady Zorro.

The Masked Vigilante.

Queen of Swords.

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘:

Alive.

𝗖𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗠𝗘:

𝗙𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗖𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗲: Her first costume consisted of a gray blouse, black pants, black boots, a black hat and mask, weapon-belt, and a black cape.

𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗲: Her second costume was designed by Zorro himself and especially for her. It consisted of a black jumpsuit with symbolic decorations, black boots, black hat with a feather, black mask, weapon-belt, and black cape.

𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗦:

𖧹Genius intelligence.

𖧹Swordswoman skills.

𖧹Privileged knowledge on every type of weapons.

𖧹Multilingualism.

𖧹Agility.

𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦:

𖧹Poor physical strength.

𖧹No superpowers.

𖧹Basic human weaknesses.

𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢𝗥:

El Zorro. ❪ Alejandro De La Vega ❫

𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝗘𝗬𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗥:

Dark brown.

𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗥:

Black.

𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗥:

White-tanned.

𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧:

1.60 ❪ 5 ft 3 in ❫

𝗪𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧:

41 kg.

𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣𝗦

𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥:

Esmeralda Sánchez.

𝗙𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥:

Alejandro De La Vega.

𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥:

Diego De La Vega.

𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥-𝗜𝗡-𝗟𝗔𝗪:

Maria Martinez-De La Vega.

𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗖𝗘:

María Esperanza De La Vega-Martinez.

𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗥 𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦:

Bernardo Montez.

Elena Montero.

𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬:

Amelia is extremely cold and serious. She doesn’t talk much and always maintains a numb expression. Although, she can make anybody laugh with her un involuntary sarcasm. Although, it’s been known she never denies anybody a word or a shoulder to cry on, even if she’s not really close to The Team.

𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗙𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦:

Amelia fears…❪ CLASSIFIED INFORMATION ❫

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗔𝗦𝗧:

❪ CLASSIFIED INFORMATION ❫

𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧:

❪ CLASSIFIED INFORMATION ❫

𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝗨𝗣𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬: ❪ 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗡, 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗔-𝟬𝟮 ❫

[flwrkid14]

Tim Works Hard So He Can Nap Harder

The thing about Tim is that he gets things done.

Not in a normal, reasonable, “wow, he’s really productive” way. No, Tim operates on an entirely different plane of efficiency—one that defies common sense and possibly the laws of physics.

Give him a five-hour task? He’ll finish it in two. Tell him something is impossible? He’ll stare at you, offended, before proving you so wrong it physically hurts.

Sometimes, it’s out of sheer spite. Bruce once told him a mission was too complicated for him to handle alone, so Tim completed it in record time out of pettiness alone. Jason told Tim he didn’t have the skill set for corporate espionage. So Tim hacked three shell companies overnight, uncovered Black Mask’s entire financial network, and sent Jason a PowerPoint presentation with the subject line: “Skill Set Acquired”.

Other times, it’s about time management. Tim understands, at his very core, that the faster he works, the sooner he can stop working. If he has to burn through a mountain of reports in a single hour so he can take a nap, then so be it. If he has to analyze data at inhuman speeds so he can binge-watch a show later, then he will.

The bats have learned to just… let it happen.

Dick once made the mistake of asking Tim to help him streamline his schedule. Tim, in under an hour, not only optimized his entire calendar but also accounted for every possible emergency, scheduled backup time slots for rescheduling, and somehow made Dick twice as productive without making him feel busier. It was kinda terrifying.

Barbara asked him to double-check some intel. He cross-referenced it against every available database, found three hidden links no one had noticed, and sent her a color-coded report with visual aids.

Bruce told him to track a smuggling ring in Gotham. Tim mapped out their entire operation in one night, had arrests lined up by morning, and then went home to sleep like a corpse.

Steph once sarcastically asked if Tim could figure out how to clean up the Gotham underworld in a week. Tim pulled out a ten-step plan before she even finished her sentence.

Tim doesn’t waste time. He doesn’t believe in half-measures. He works fast, works well, and then disappears before anyone can ask him for more.

The only thing scarier than Tim’s efficiency is the fact that he actively chooses to use it selectively.

Because while Tim is capable of working like a one-man army, when it benefits him, he’s also capable of weaponized uselessness. If he doesn’t want to do something, suddenly he’s the most inefficient person alive.

He’ll take weeks to answer a text. He’ll forget how to do basic tasks. He’ll act so completely incapable of anything that people just stop asking him for things.

But when he wants something done?

It’s over before you even realize he started.

[neilsblog]

Best Data Masking Tools: Protect Your Sensitive Information

Data masking techniques have emerged as valuable assets in an age of growing data breaches and privacy restrictions. Are you concerned about the security of your sensitive data? Don’t worry. Data Masking software may render data almost invisible to inquisitive eyes. These technologies enable organizations to protect their data and comply with privacy regulations such as GDPR and CPRA. In this…

[housecow]

it’s so bad but. ruination is one of the hottest parts of feedism for me... i’ve set myself up well so far. i’ve made good decisions that’ve paid off—but i want all of that to mean nothing eventually.

does it even matter that i’m a published academic when i can’t get myself off the couch without help? unread emails from colleagues i haven’t seen in years. inquiries about a database i poured my soul into developing for grad school, unread and untouched for months because i can’t bother to reach over and pull the laptop onto my massive belly. maybe i’d figure out a way to forward them to someone else, removing any potential responsibility. why keep up with those connections when it’s so much easier to keep shoveling food into my mouth?

i can’t wait for all of my accomplishments to pale in comparison with the hundreds of pounds i’ve put on. my world will narrow—my feeder and the piles of food he supplies will be the only things that matter. his careful and strong hands, massaging the rolls and folds he so lovingly made sure were our priority. it started with a simple, “close the laptop and come sit, i got the shake ready”

one day i just won’t open it ever again. the tv remote is right there, my phone is tucked somewhere under the flab. there’s a few pizzas on the way. premade shakes are in the mini fridge next to the couch i fill up almost entirely by myself. my mind is finally blank—no one would expect i was ever more than a useless cow

the occasional trip to the fridge is the most i’d accomplish in a day, maybe even a week. my feeder figures out he can lace the shakes with thc and keep my mind numb, just like i told him i needed. no more documentaries. shitty reality tv keeps me entranced and distracted, thousands of calories devoured each hour. after work he finds me where he left me, surrounded by wrappers and working on a tub of ice cream. “babe, how many has it been?”

can i even count at that point? “i don’t know, can you get me another?” he’d pop it in the microwave first because spoons are getting hard to hold in my pudgy hands. sticky sausage fingers grasp the tub as he hands it to me and he slides onto the couch next to my massive figure.

this is the best part of the day. he rubs my belly in circles, pressing deeply into the soft and dimpled fat as i desperately gulp down the slurry of melted ice cream. he grips a roll and gives it a shake, making me groan a bit—in a good way, it freed up a bit more room. not like i would’ve stopped eating anyways. he shakes his head and tuts: “you still have room?”

i don’t say anything but i smile and lazily look at him, slow and dumb but knowing what that disapproval means. he reaches to the table and pulls the funnel mask out, slipping it over my face. “good girls can barely breathe by the time i get home.”

god, at one point in time people thought i actually had potential. i can’t wait to ruin it all

[bluesunss]

Little fool Choi Su-bong x F! Reader

Fools part 1

part 2

summary: you’ve got a fever and text your best friend ‘hel me, m feelin hot’. he’s high and interprets it as you wanting him. but when he comes over it ends up being more wholesome than you (him) think.

heads-up: dirty minded Su-bong, idiot with a crush, pretty wholesome, bad at feelings, clumsy, au with no games, brief mention of pills, confident reader

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I’ve never used tumblr before, hope I’m doing this right! also English isn’t my first language so please correct me if you notice any typo :3 I’m open to requests if anybody likes this and would like to see more/something different!

"Hel me, m feelin hot."

When Su-bong first saw the message, he momentarily let go of the shisha, his eyes widening.

"Yo, what’s up, bro?"

Two of the guys around him snickered, the fruity, intoxicating smoke curling from his nostrils.

"A girl?"

A dark-haired guy, whose name he had long forgotten, craned his neck over his phone.

"Oooohh. Getting laid. I seee."

Su-bong stared at the screen. Usually so chatty, words suddenly got lost in his throat. The others lost interest in his phone, yet he kept rereading the message. "M feelin hot." His trousers tightened slightly, and he swallowed a groan.

"Shit, guys, I gotta go."

He rose, giving them a quick dap, and they smirked, mimicking breasts and an obscene gesture with their hands and mouths. He flipped them off and stumbled out of the bar. Could it be? No. He reread the message. "Hel me, m feelin hot." Were you in heat? Your period had ended about a week ago - you complained about it constantly - and he knew ovulation or whatever it was could make women... desperate. Could that be the reason? The thought sent a rush of exhilaration through him.

"Fuckkk," he exhaled.

His pants were growing uncomfortably tight. Clenching his cross in his palm, he flagged down a cab, reciting your address while attempting to stifle the impure thoughts unfurling in his mind. But he was burning up. The moment the taxi halted, he fumbled for old, crumpled bills in his pocket, shoved them at the driver, and stumbled out.

Then, suddenly, he doubled back and entered a convenience store, purchasing a small square packet. Protection. Breathe, he told himself. Just breathe. You had been very close friends for over a year, best friends, maybe too, ever since you, a nurse, had helped him when he’d gotten a pill lodged in his nostril. It hadn’t exactly been funny, but you had stifled a laugh while assisting him, smiling warmly. He had quite enjoyed the glimpse of cleavage beneath your uniform, the sight of your lips when you lowered your mask. But you had a boyfriend. And even though he had managed to dig up your number from the hospital database, you had blocked him.

Then, a few weeks later, he had spotted you at a bar, kissing some random guy. He had seized the opportunity to inform you that your "boyfriend" was downright hideous. You had laughed, telling him it wasn’t your boyfriend - you had just been dumped. You had unblocked him that night, and the two of you had been texting ever since.

You two never slept together. That is why, one, he was so damn confused, and well, two, that it had blossomed into something resembling a friendship. Getting along well, having inside jokes, he wasn’t sure he wanted that ruined for just a one-night stand. But damn, was he turned on right now.

The idea of sleeping with you, not sleeping with anyone, but you, it was so new and so… so good. And it made his heart flutter in a way it hadn’t before. Never. Which is why he was twice as confused now. Why was he feeling like this? Maybe, just maybe because you were great friends. Yeah, that was it. It could only be this.

Sure, it was sometimes ambiguous. And, well, you in scrubs drove him insane. But friendship wasn’t too bad. Especially when you allowed him to hug you, letting him nuzzle into your chest like a child. "Such a kid," you used to laugh. He was cute, but so immature.

You were so out of his league. Outgoing, confident, you had a job and not any job, you were a talented nurse, and you were funny and smart. Maybe that is why his heart beat so fast. Of course.

Now, however, his vision blurred. He stepped out of the store, unfastened his cross, and swallowed a pill to regain composure. Fuck. Nothing was strong enough to quell this fire.

Crossing the street, he reached your building, pushed the door - then cursed, remembering he had to pull (he always got it wrong). He took the stairs two at a time.

Shit. Triple shit. Standing before your door, he felt disoriented. Utterly disoriented. His heart pounded, palms slick, throat parched, like a teenager before his first crush. God. You were fine. But not just that. You were witty, and he adored your laughter. You even laughed at his dumb jokes.

He rang the doorbell.

No answer. Anxiety gnawed at him - had he misread the situation? He rang again, then checked his phone. The message was still there. Then why weren’t you-

He suddenly remembered he had your keys. He rummaged through his pocket, mistakenly pulling out his motorcycle keys before finally finding the right ones. Turning them in the lock, he stepped inside your small studio, only to find it empty. Panic swelled in his chest.

"Yo? Señorita?"

Fumbling for the light switch, he flipped it on - only to be met with utter chaos. Your apartment was in complete disarray, the air thick and stifling.

"Where are you? Fuck."

He set the convenience store bag atop a drawer and began searching. That’s when he noticed - the bathroom door, slightly ajar. And light flickered from within.

He panicked.

Then-

There you were. Gripping the faucet, face ablaze, lips trembling.

"My God, what’s wrong?"

He rushed forward, and you collapsed into his arms. Your breath, hot against his chest, trembled as you murmured, "Hot," "Fever," and "Lost."

Poor thing.

Biting his lip at his own idiocy, he carefully helped you out of the bathroom. He had no idea what he was doing - hesitated, then finally settled on laying you down on the couch before fetching a damp towel.

A feeble chuckle escaped your lips as you exhaled what little air remained in your lungs - because he hadn’t wrung out the towel, it was drenched, and he had grabbed the overused one hanging by the sink. That clumsy idiot.

He sat cross-legged beside the couch, back to you, fiddling with his cross.

"You want a pill? Might help."

You feebly smacked his shoulder, mumbling something incoherent. He turned, finding you feverish and drenched in sweat.

"Want me to open the window? Run downstairs for some painkillers? Or maybe give you a massage? Hey, señorita, don’t die on me!" he whined as you shut your eyes.

You mumbled again.

"M’sorry, I didn’t understand could you like repea-“

"Shut… up and come here," you managed.

His heartbeat went wild.

Trembling, he hesitantly perched at the edge of the couch, leaving a respectful gap. His back still faced you.

"Hey, don’t tell me you’ve never been in bed with a girl. Lie down and talk."

Well, you weren’t exactly wrong. But this was different. You weren’t just "a girl." And after tonight’s message, his mind definitely crossed a line, making it painful - humiliating, even - to face you.

But then, your feverish, trembling hand grasped his. And his whole body ignited.

Finally, with great effort, he lay down, swallowing hard, now facing you. Space was tight. You radiated heat. Then, without warning, you tucked your head against his chest, pressing your overheated skin into him, breathing laboriously. You burned against him, and his chest fluttered with butterflies.

"Hold me," you whispered. "Talk. Say something."

Tentatively, his fingers found your waist, pulling you in, holding your body weakly against his.

You gazed up at him, hands clutching his shirt, eyes wide, fever-bright. Sweat clung to your hair, strands plastered to your forehead, and beneath your long lashes, this gleaming gaze became the most breathtaking sight he had ever beheld.

Shit.

Desperate to steady his hammering heart, he forced words out.

"I… I’m working on a new track for the Underground rap battle. I really think I can win this time. It’s good. The manager says it could blow up."

Gradually, he relaxed, holding you closer, feeling your breathing even out against him. Your body slackened, and you nuzzled into his shirt, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and shisha.

"Hey, señorita, you should come watch me. I’m too sexy when I sing. Apparently, I sweat from my forehead, and it’s super hot. That’s what all the girls say when they hit on me. There’s a lot, you kno-"

He looked down.

Against him, you had drifted off.

A soft, barely-there snore. A faint trickle of drool. Stray strands of hair. Flushed cheeks.

And just like that, he forgot all about the small, unopened packet at the threshold, the heat your message had sparked within him, and focused solely on the languid softness of your form.

It suddenly struck him. More than any of his dirty thoughts, what he had truly longed for was this. Overcome with a mix of confusion and longing, he murmured a quiet "goodnight" that was swallowed by the surrounding darkness, his yawn stretching before he succumbed to the comforting pull of your embrace.

The next morning, when you awoke first, you were in full vitality. You sprang from the couch, flung open the windows to let in the air - it was stifling - and made your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a refreshing glass of orange juice, after gently covering your friend.

Then, on the entryway shelf, you noticed a small bag, which you opened, revealing a distinctively familiar package.

You snatched your phone from the counter, suddenly recalling the message you had written. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you returned the protections to their original place, deciding to act oblivious, eyes gleaming, before grabbing the juice to cool off.

He was rather endearing, that little fool.

ayy lmk what you guys think

[chaosringvows]

day #75489674867865 of how much i want to make out with my kamen rider/ride kamens f/os while they're in suit

[menop033]

My favorite crimes Barbara Gordon has committed

Full disclosure, I am considering only New Earth Babs because the other versions are simply inferior. I will ignore the typical masked adventurer crimes she did as Batgirl, like assault, breaking and entering, trespassing, obstructing justice and vigilantism. I will also not really consider the very classic Oracle shenanigans like hacking, accessing some databases she probably shouldn't, stealing from rich criminals to fund her own (kinda criminal) operation, invading privacy and literally doing illegal spy work with Birds of Prey. Because those are boring and I want something that's not just another Tuesday. So, in no particular order:

Changing the light on traffic lights

Stupid and small but I love it. Very iconic and very Barbara-like.

+Extra Helena who has very logical and understandable qualms about Oracle's power and influence

[Birds of Prey (1999) #58]

Blackmailing Catwoman into returning stolen paintings

And threatening to send her money to charities. Catwoman begrudgingly obliged.

I am not too sure about what happened leading to that moment. That comic didn't have a particularly strong story. I think Selina stole them while Barbara was still Batgirl?

Either way, the ending is pretty memorable for me. Ultimate irony - threatening her into returning stolen goods by stealing funds from her.

[Birds of Prey: Catwoman/Oracle]

Making a deal with Gotham City's emergency services

and then using the tech she implemented to override the control of the vehicles when needed. Or, when she wants to. This one instance was because Steph just got shot in the head and didn't really want to end up in an ER where her mother worked, exposing her (third) secret identity. It worked out so yay?

[Batgirl (2009) #6]

Sort of kidnapping Wendy Harris

To be fair, she did it because Calculator, Oracle's arch nemesis and Wendy's father, was endangering her and she did it to protect her but a little more explanation couldn't hurt. But that wouldn't be Barbara without her genial tendency to keep everyone but herself in the dark. I guess she really did keep Wendy in the dark. In the basement.

[Batgirl (2009) #11]

Political corruption

We never get to learn what exactly she did. She just said that many leaders owe her their positions. it sure as hell doesn't sound legal. World-wide corruption? Why not. Entirely too much power for one person to hold. 10/10

Also, I bet you that those power grids aren't exactly controlled legally.

[Birds of Prey (1999) #103]

Blowing up a government facility and getting rid of some evidence

Well, Cass decided to break into a government facility and free a terrorist to prove a point that everyone can change. And in doing so she left them some photo, video and DNA evidence.

Oracle therefore later sent her back there to destroy it, blowing the building up in the process. Oh and she also presumably helped the guy get fake documents but that's not 100% confirmed (Cass said that it's from her friends as she gave them to him).

She really cares about her not-quite-daughter <3

[Batgirl (2000) #17]

Her father/uncle (the Gordon family was kind of a mess after Crisis) might be the commissioner of Gotham but she clearly doesn't respect the law in the slightest. They love eachother, of course, they just don't share the same views on the law.

I simply enjoy how unhinged her methods sometimes usually are and we need to recognise that. Also, while we are at it, get rid of Prime Earth Barbara's characterisation and bring back the competent and sarcastic control-freak.

[acey-wacey]

True Love's Kiss

Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil

Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?

...

🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮

"ME?!"

Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.

"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"

"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."

"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"

"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."

Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.

"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"

Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.

Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).

"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"

"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.

"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."

"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"

Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.

"Y/N... likes me?"

Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.

"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"

Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.

Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.

You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.

"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."

Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.

"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."

"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"

"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.

"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."

"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"

That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.

Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.

"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.

It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.

Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.

"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"

Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.

"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."

Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.

"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"

...

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

"This is such a bad idea."

Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.

"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."

"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."

"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."

"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"

"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.

"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.

"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.

"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."

"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.

"That remains to be seen."

"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.

"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."

The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.

Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.

"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"

"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.

"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"

"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.

"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.

"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."

At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.

"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"

"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."

It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.

Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.

Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.

"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.

"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.

Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.

Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!

You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.

"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"

He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.

"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.

After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.

"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."

He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.

"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."

Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.

"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."

Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.

"Oh, screw it!"

He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.

He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.

"What is... Where am I?"

Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.

When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.

"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."

Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.

"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."

"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."

You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.

"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.

"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."

You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.

"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"

"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."

You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.

"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.

"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."

You looked at Azul incredulously.

"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"

Azul was quite confused now.

"Do you not want money?"

"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."

...

🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞

It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.

No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.

Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.

For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.

Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.

"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.

There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.

"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."

He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.

You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.

It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.

No matter what it took, he would find a cure.

"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."

"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."

"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"

Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.

"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."

His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.

"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."

"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.

"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"

Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.

"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."

Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.

"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.

"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.

Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.

"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."

Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.

"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."

Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.

"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"

"Mine, probably."

Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.

You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.

"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."

Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.

"My word against yours, potato."

...

Buy me a Kofi! ☕