#manage passwords safely

[zentarablog]

Strong Passwords: 10 Golden Rules for Online Security

In the grand architecture of our digital lives, passwords are the keys to every door. They guard our most sensitive information: our emails, bank accounts, social media profiles, and private photos. Yet, for something so critical, they are often treated as a trivial afterthought. We use our pet’s name, our birthday, or the classic “Password123,” leaving these vital doors unlocked and wide open…

[dullahandyke]

'if youre looking to be secure, MFA is best' shut up + dont speak to me again + rot in hell + fuck you + fuck you again + let me turn it off or i crush you and your family with my psychic powers.

[gorbygames]

Password manager! Remember one password and never have to remember others

If there are others you want memorized you can put them in the password manager anyways, just in case :D

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

check out my buy me a coffee!

[snotgrl-02]

VPNs do not make you more secure

here's how they work!

first of all, most of your internet traffic is already encrypted via TLS (Transport Layer Security). Things that aren't encrypted are usually videogames or less important applications.

a VPN encrypts traffic between your computer and the VPN server you're using.

your Internet Service Provider (ISP) sits in the middle of that transaction.

cue the MS paint diagram

Without a VPN:

With a VPN:

the traffic between your VPN server and the rest of the internet is not encrypted any further.

things that VPNs are good for:

bypassing geo-blocking

bypassing website blocks set up by your ISP

obscuring network traffic from your ISP

things that VPNs are not good for:

browsing the internet without having your activity logged. every company that gives internet service logs the activity, it's half of how they make sure they're not being hacked.

hiding information from the government. VPN providers WILL bend to subpoenas, they WILL turn over logs of your network activity.

cybersecurity. VPNs can't save you once the traffic is between them and the final destination. they don't analyze your traffic to detect and stop hackers, they don't add any encryption where it matters.

VPNs are not a shortcut to security. you cannot pay 15 dollars a month to forgo all responsibility for your own digital privacy. do your research, use a password manager, stay safe.

my friends i hope you find this information useful. you have been sold a lie. remember to show extreme skepticism to youtube sponsorships and journalism websites which sing their praises.

sources: i have a certificate iv in cybersecurity

[calebsdog]

"Honey? Caleb is on his way. Just try and relax."

"Mmn?" Through half-lidded eyes you watch Tara tuck your phone into the safety of your purse. Did you give it to her earlier? You don't recall giving her the password either.

Though, your memory wasn't the most trustworthy at the moment. When you close your eyes, the rest of the world fades into nothingness around you. The party was an assault to the senses. The room reeks of sweat and booze, the music pounds in your ears, and everything was far too bright.

When Tara had invited you for a night out you assumed the two of you would swing by a bar, grab a few drinks, order some food, and catch a back home. Instead, she took you to a 'friend of a friends' house. Stepping through the front door made you think you had time traveled back to your college days.

How had a grown adult managed to turn their abode into a frat house? But also- why would anyone ever want that?

The party continues. Your body slumping over in your seat, neck crooked at an odd angle, wasn't enough to catch the concern of partygoers. The music thump, thump, thumps the walls of the hideous house. The glittering disco sloppily attached to the ceiling flashes nauseating colors, illuminating the cold sweat beading on your brow.

"Tara?" Blindly, you reach out for your best friend. You couldn't be sure she was still close to you. Your eyes have been closed since you saw her return your phone into your bag. All you know is that you were tired of astral projecting. You need to hold onto someone before you float away for good.

"I think someone spiked my drink." Blessedly, Tara takes hold of your fumbling hand. Her soft skin cools your overheated body. God, even if Tara is the one who brought you to this shitty party in the first place, she was still a perfect angel in your hazy eyes. You'd be all alone if she wasn't here watching over you.

"I don't think so baby. I was with you all night. You feel sick because you threw back three shots."

Maybe you let a little too loose tonight. In your defense, there was alcohol at every corner in this place. You weren't even able to take a bathroom break without someone stuttering drunk shoving an old, warm beer bottle into your hands.

Places like these were not your scene.

"Caleb's coming? When's he gonna be here?"

Forget whatever you were just talking about. Tara's words from earlier had suddenly clicks in your mind. She called Caleb to come pick you up. That must be why you gave her your phone.

Right now, what you want more than anything is to be at Caleb's side. With the music making your head pound, sweaty bodies brushing past you, and the puke bubbling in your empty, acid filled stomach, you want your safe space to come save you from this madness.

Ignoring the fact Caleb might be a little upset with you for not letting him know you were going out drinking tonight. It hadn't seemed important earlier when you thought you were going to a regular bar. Your mistake was when you neglected to give your location. Or pick up your phone the entire time you've been out.

Whatever. You'll accept the consequences of a disappointed Caleb. As long as he brings you back home to an actual bed.

He won't leave you alone when he's upset. He would never abandon you. Somewhere deep in your soul you know it to be true.

"You never told me he lives in Skyhaven. I was ready to find someone else in your contacts to come. But he seemed pretty insistent about being the one to pick you up. He said it would be thirty minutes tops."

Tara's mouth twists into a thoughtful frown.

"It's pretty late. There aren't going to be many trains running at this time. How is he sure he'll be here that fast?"

"He's Caleb. Caleb always finds a way." Or rather, Caleb owns a personal aircraft he can use as he pleases. But you don't feel like opening up that can of worms to Tara right now.

The playlist shuffles to another song. The bass thrumming through the radio shakes you down to your skeleton. Idly, you wonder how many times the owner of this house has received noise complaints from his neighbors.

Whoever was behind this stupid party is incredibly lucky they don't live anywhere near you. You put up with enough in your day to day life. One thing you would not tolerate is your neighbors blasting music at two in the morning.

Leaning your heavy head against Tara's shoulder, you try to let the world go quiet around you.

"Hey. Wake up."

Ah, there he is. The person you've been waiting for. The warmth of his large hand seeps through the strap of your dress. He's gentle as he shakes you awake.

It's a fight to peel your heavy eyes open, trying to regain control of your blurry vision. The world has been spinning around you for hours now. You kept your eyes closed, blocking out the dizziness to the best of your ability. But now, you have something you really want to look at.

"Hm. My hero."

The tension in Caleb's face is highlighted by the glittery lights strobing on the ceiling. Tara's call must have really worried him. It hadn't even taken him half an hour to fly all the way from Skyhaven to this strange, rundown property that neither of you will be setting foot on again.

It was probably just the alcohol. But the lighting makes it look like there's a halo floating over Caleb's head. Weirdly, you don't question it. It feels fitting. Like it's always been there, hidden from view.

Your drunken mind accepts Caleb's angelic appearance. Just as quickly as you accept it you're already moving on. Your body didn't have the energy to keep up with all these divulging trains of thoughts.

The worry creasing Caleb's face stutters. His purple eyes widen when his ears pick up on that single, precious word.

Hero.

"Silly girl."

He shouldn't take you seriously right now, he reminds himself. Your friend told him over the phone just how much you've had to drink tonight. You were bound to say pointless, silly things you didn't truly mean in such a state.

Caleb could replay that short moment over in his mind later when you're safe. This worry that's been building in his chest since he picked up the phone will only go away once he sees you tucked into bed, snuggled under the blanket like a sleepy kitten after drinking too much milk.

He'll think of how relieved you appeared when your eyes landed on him. How happy you looked just because he showed up. How that voice he loves so much called him your hero.

Some other time. Right now, all Caleb wants to have you home with him. These people were all too careless around you. He has to get you away from them.

Your slumped position doesn't cause him inconvenience. The booze had already convinced you that you've suddenly become weightless. You feel light as a feather as your large boyfriend sweeps you into his loving arms.

"I'll get her home safely. Thank you for calling me. And for looking after her."

Only half paying attention, Caleb bids Tara farewell with a grateful nod. It's unfair how easy it is for him to be charming. Everyone in your life is drawn like a moth to a flame with your Caleb. Yes, you should be grateful that your friends get along so well with your boyfriend.

Telling yourself that doesn't make it easier.

"Bye Tara..." Not wanting to leave without saying goodbye, no matter how sleepy you are, you lift your hand to give Tara a weak wave.

"Bye! Make sure to take it easy tomorrow, okay?"

"Mhm. I will." As if Caleb would let you do anything but have an easy day. You're a little afraid he might put you on a twenty-four hour lockdown for being so reckless.

Keeping you safe in his arms, Caleb starts to weave through the dancing, mindless drunkards stumbling all around the room. With your head leaning against his chest you're able to catch strong whiffs of Caleb's familiar cologne. The cologne manages to protect your nostrils from the pungent, musty stench you've been suffering for hours.

"Oh, life is worth living again."

The comforting embrace of freedom comes in the form of a cool night breeze, tickling along your flushed cheeks. Caleb pushes the front door open with his foot, releasing you from that hell disguised as a fun time. Even if it isn't enough to sober you, it's certainly an improvement in environment.

"I figured you'd be warm. I kept it cool in my aircraft on my way here. You'll be comfortable."

Caleb carries you a good distance before the two of you arrive at his personal vehicle. The craft was far too large for the humble parking lots of Linkon or the narrow street of the party house. It was best to keep something like that tucked out of the public eye anyway. He's careful as he sets your limp body in the passenger seat. He does the work of buckling you up.

A while ago, you noticed Caleb doesn't have a matching seat belt installed into his own seat. You haven't asked him. There was no point in answering when part of you already knows he built a buckle on the passenger just for you.

"Open your eyes for a sec, pip. I have some water for you." Carefully prying your fingers out of their clenched position, exposing the sticky sweat clinging to your palms, he passes you a cup. One of those fancy cups that can keep your drinks cold for hours.

"Drink up. We're not going home until you've had at least half the cup. I also have refills if you get thirsty on the way home."

"You filled the cup to the brim. Can't I just drink a third of it then we go?"

"Nope."

"You're the worst."

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you do your best to take slow, easy sips. Water probably won't make you anymore nauseous than you currently are. But it never hurts to be careful.

"Yup. Turns out I'm not a hero at all. I'm an evil monster who makes sure this little flower stays hydrated."

Caleb's hand reaches out, looming ominously over your head. For a second you're convinced he's about to tousle your sweaty hair.

You should start giving him more credit. Instead of worsening the matted tangles already beginning to form on your scalp he brushes away the strands sticking in front of your eyes.

"I drank half."

"Did you?"

Caleb's eyes drift to the cup in your hand. He's not able to see inside of it. But he can hear the water sloshing on the inside when you shake the bottle, proudly showing him that yes, you were actually behaving.

You've had a decent amount, even if it wasn't exactly half.

"Good job." Temporarily satisfied with your easy obedience, Caleb quits crowding your space. Checking to make sure you're properly buckled one last time, he makes his way over to the driver's seat.

The aircraft thrums as it lifts off of the ground. Less than a decade ago Caleb was happy to earn his first car through long hours of work, through blood sweat and tears. He's been the designated driver since that day, letting you tag along in the passenger seat nearly every time.

It was odd how much life can change in such short amounts of time.

Flying like this with Caleb had made you dizzy the first few times. But after so many times sitting in this seat, it feels no different than taking a ride in a car.

The trip home, the home in Skyhaven that was slowly becoming yours, was mercifully quiet for the first few minutes. Caleb must sense that the worst headache of your life is starting to creep up on you. It's starting to tickle around the edges around your skull, warning you of what's to come.

Whether you would survive tomorrow morning's hangover was up in the air.

"What were you doing at a place like that anyways?"

Nevermind. Caleb was an inconsiderate jerk who would scold you hangover or no hangover. This was just the beginning stage of the healthy dose of disappointment heading your way.

"Tara invited me. I thought we were just gonna go to a bar."

"Your friend from work? She brought you there?"

"Don't be mad at Tara, Caleb. I wasn't in any danger. Everyone at the party was just really rowdy. I'm fine."

"And what if you hadn't been?"

Caleb never raises his voice. Never escalates these rare arguments that barely pop up in your relationship. It's only the arguments regarding your safety that ever manage to grow tense.

His voice is level, his posture remains calm. But you see as his worn hands begin to squeeze the life out of the poor wheel.

Caleb rarely gets angry. But Caleb is afraid. All of the time.

"You didn't even text to tell me you were going out tonight. Did you check your phone at all? You should know the kind of people who go to parties like that. If something had happened to you, it could have been hours before I knew anything was wrong. I'm not trying to insult your friend. But I don't trust her to keep you safe like I can."

Caleb has a habit of making you feel like a child. His care for your safety is always so sincere. Sure, he could be controlling, possessive too. And he keeps your best interest in his heart through it all.

"Caleb? I'm really, really sorry."

Caleb has the power to tell when you give him fake crocodile tear apologies and when you give him true, honest atonements. You truly mean this apology. Arguments with Caleb used to drag on for days at a time all because you refused to let go of your pride and just say sorry. Even when most of those times you had been totally in the wrong.

You were both adults now. Your relationship was only just beginning to blossom. You aren't willing to trample over this budding seedling because you couldn't let go of your childish stubbornness.

"That... Was unusually fast. Are you sure you don't have something else you need to tell me?"

"No. I just know that I was wrong. And you deserve an apology. So, I'm sorry Caleb."

Leaning forward, the seat belt tightening slightly around your chest, you try to catch his gaze. He's been staring out of the windshield this whole time. Even though there clearly wasn't any traffic in the open sky.

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? Ask me anything. I want to start being honest."

You can nearly see the thoughts running wild through Caleb's head. It never used to be this easy to get you to agree with him. Clearly, your easy apology has caught your boyfriend off guard.

But the offer you've laid willingly at his feet is too enticing to ignore. His white knuckle grip on the steering wheel begins to ease.

"How are you feeling?"

"Really, Caleb? I said you could ask me anything you want. Why is that what you want to know?"

"Because you said you would answer honestly. I want to know."

One of his hands departs from the wheel. It finds its way onto your thigh, as it always does when you're his passenger princess. He's only waited this long to touch you this way tonight because you needed to have this conversation.

"How are you feeling? Tell me, please."

"Honestly? I don't know if I've ever felt worse. I haven't gotten this drunk since college. I want to puke my guts out, dig my own grave, and crawl into the ground for the next hundred years."

"Hmph." Caleb's hand delicately squeezes your thigh through your wrinkled skirt.

"I can't offer you a grave. Can I offer a long night of sleeping together in bed instead?"

"Not quite the same. But I suppose I can settle." Sighing for dramatics, you tilt your tired, heavy body to the side. You don't realize how nearly all of your weight was being supported by Caleb. He was bearing the majority of the burden, as he usually does.

"One more question. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better before we get home?" The atmosphere gets a little less playful when Caleb asks you this. Seeing you like this, drunk out of your mind, worn to the bone, pulls on the heartstrings that only respond to you.

"Hm... There's one thing. Say 'I forgive you, baby.' I'll feel all better again."

What a little trickster Caleb had raised. Your ready apology earlier was almost successful in convincing him that you've matured. Turns out, you were still an annoying little kid at heart.

Spoiled. You've been taking advantage of this weakness of his since you had met. You'll be worming your way out of trouble for a long time yet.

"I forgive you, baby."

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ SAY IT AGAIN

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: you find out caleb had been logging into your phone at random times of the day to keep track of who you were texting. frustrated, you call him to yell at him only to question what exactly he was doing on the other end.

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+ , phone sex , sub!caleb (per usual) , masturbation , cnc , use of y/n

a/n :: highkey got this idea from that one scene in twk when cardans kissing jude & telling her to say she hates him..🌝🌝

he had absolutely no right to be invading your personal space. absolutely none.

you were so fucking angry.

caleb was away on a trip with gran. usually, he would simply ask to check your phone, and you'd happily give it to him- knowing he means well. but with the shit he has been pulling, you're starting to question whether or not he really does trust you like he says he does.

you had found out that he was hacking into your phone because the device started acting awfully odd. opening apps you didnt click on, siri turning on without any context, letters on the keyboard being pressed when you never tapped on them in the first place. confused (and frankly a little scared), you took it to a professional to get it checked out. when he asked if anyone else had the password to your socials, thats when the realization dawned on you.

you felt so stupid. utterly dumb. but how were you supposed to know? you had told caleb about the issue multiple times and each occasion you mentioned it he would always say the same thing: "thats so weird, pips.. maybe you should go get it checked out or something." feigning complete innocence.

you had enough.

driving home as fast as you could, you barely reach the front door before you're calling him nonstop until he answers.

"hey pips! i missed yo-"

"you fucking liar."

there's a beat of silence at that. your breathing is heavy, going right into the mic- giving caleb an idea of what he's in for.

"um.. excuse me?" caleb manages, swallowing thickly. he knows exactly what you're going to yell at him for and he's praying to jesus christ himself that he can manipulate his way out of it.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about, don't try to play dumb. you've been going into my phone and looking through my shit. i thought you said you trusted me? what happened to that? i mean, seriously, caleb, i thought we had gotten over this." you say, voice pinched a bit higher than usual. you're pacing around the room in order to keep yourself calm, heart beating at a distressing rate as you don't like to argue with him.

"pips, i really don't know what you're talking about," he utters, licking his lips. "i know whats been going on with your phone has been messing you up, but you don't necessarily have to blame me for it. look, once i get back i'll help you figure out what's wrong with it just to prove that it's not me. deal?"

you can tell that he's trying his best to soften his tone to make his lie more believable, but you aren't gonna buy into it.

"no. no, caleb, just quit the act already. i'm so tired of this. i'll give you two choices," you say, sitting down on the couch; elbows on your knees. "either you stop with the whole hacking thing and we stay together, or i cut things off with you and we never talk again."

for a moment, there's nothing being said. pure silence. he's absolutely speechless on his end of the phone, mouth agape and eyes wide. every few seconds, he'd attempt to say something but nothing would come out- resulting in something that resembled a stutter.

"well? what's it gonna be?" you asked, becoming to grow impatient.

"y/n.." he whispered. "you.. you can't do that to me. i-.. i'm sorry for doing all that crap. i didn't do it because i don't trust you... it's other people that i don't trust. please believe me, baby. i can't stop doing it, it's just my way of keeping you safe."

aaaand now it's your turn to be shocked.

"are you fucking serious?" you yell, and you swear you can see the look on his face regardless if he's visible or not. eyebrows raised up, cheeks as red as roses, eyes backed up with tears. you know how much he hates being yelled at by you... but he deserves it. "you can't be serious. please tell me you're pulling some joke."

" baby, please. i-"

"enough. just quit it. i fucking hate you, caleb."

he swallows. no, practically gulps. he shouldnt be turned on by the sound of that. he really shouldnt. he knows he should be terrified by the threat of you leaving him... but the tent growing in his pants is getting undeniably uncomfortable that he just can't seem to care.

unzipping his jeans, he gently lays his back on his bed, being carefully quiet to ensure you don't hear.

"you're fucking insane and no matter how much i try to talk to you about it you never change. it is draining, caleb. you have absolutely no idea how fucked up you are."

he's nodding against his phone, murmuring small 'yeah's here and there to let you know that he's listening. what you aren't aware of is the fact that instead of really listening, he's actually moving his hand at an insane speed on his dick. it gets to the point that he can't even respond, the pleasure taking over. all he needs is for you to tell him how bad he is and how much you despise him for him to be able to go over the edge.

the fact that you don't even know whats going on keeps him going for even longer.

"...-is so frustrating, caleb! you don't even care for me and... wait, are you even listening? hellooo?" you shout, expecting an answer.

he picks up his phone from where it was sitting on his pillow and takes it off speaker phone to reply. "y-yes, baby? 'm sorry.. i'm, um, listening. keep talking." he responds, stuttering over his words.

you roll your eyes, thinking he simply just doesn't care. "my god, you're so fucking annoying. i hate you so much, y'know that?"

he nods hastily, even though you can't see it. "y-yes. say it again. please." the last word comes out broken as he was embarrassingly close to cumming.

you stop in your tracks, both eyebrows furrowed. "um..." you utter, confused at what he was playing at. "i... hate.. you..?"

"f-fuck!" he whisper-shouts, hips thrusting into his hand as he drops the device back onto where it was initially. he brings his previously free hand down to his cock to stroke the tip, twisting his wrists. biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood, he makes his best effort to keep little whimpers inside of his mouth. it works for the most part... but you already knew what was happening. he does it too many times for you to not know.

"caleb." you warn.

he doesn't answer, he can't answer, mind is too hazy from the force of his orgasm. he's practically like putty on his bed, half asleep and half awake.

"text me in the morning." you say before hanging up and throwing your phone on the bed.

he will not ever learn.

[ms-demeanor]

I'm not the most security savvy but two-factor authentication makes me deeply suspicious. Is it actually more secure or is it just annoying? Especially the ones that send a code to your phone that pops up in your notifications.

It is genuinely, massively, TREMENDOUSLY more secure to use 2FA/MFA than to not use it.

One of our clients is currently under attack by a group that appears to be using credential stuffing; they are making educated guesses about the accounts they're trying to lot into based on common factors showing up in the credentials in years of pastes and breaches and leaks. Like, let's say it's a professional arborist's guild and their domain is arborist.tree and they've had three hundred members who have had their credentials compromised in the last ten years and the people looking at all the passwords associated with arborist.tree noticed that the words "arboreal" and "conifer" and "leaf" and "branch" show up over and over and over again in the passwords for the members of the professional arborist's guild.

So they can make an educated guess for how to log in to accounts belonging to the tree-loving tree lover's club, combine that with the list of legitimate emails, and go to town.

And they are in fact going to town. We're getting between 1000 and 4000 login attempts per hour. It's been happening for a couple weeks.

And every single one of those attempts is failing - in spite of some pretty poor password practices that believe me, I have been doing some talking about - as a result of having MFA enforced for the entire group. They all use an app that is synced to their individual accounts with a mobile device, except that sometimes you have trouble getting a code when you're up in a tree so some of them have physical MFA tokens.

People try to sign into my tumblr sometimes. To those people I say: lol, good luck, I couldn't guess my own password with a gun to my head. But if I *did* have some password that was, like "tiny-bastard-is#1" they would also need access to my email address because I've got MFA set up on tumblr. And to THAT I say: lol, good luck, it's complex passwords and MFA all the way down.

Of the types of MFA that most people will run across, the most secure to least secure hierarchy goes physical token>app based one-time-passwords>tie between email and SMS. Email and SMS are less preferred because email is relatively easy to capture and open in transit and cellphone SIMs can be cloned to capture your text messages. But if you are using email or SMS for your authentication you are still miles and miles and miles ahead of people who are not using any kind of authentication.

MFA is, in fact, so effective that I only advise people to turn it on if they are 100% sure that they will be able to access the account if they lose access to the device that had the authenticator on it. You usually can do this by saving a collection of recovery codes someplace safe (I recommend doing this in the secure notes section of your password manager on the entry for the site in question - if this is not a feature that your password manager has, I recommend that you get a better password manager, and the password manager I recommend is bitwarden).

A couple weeks ago I needed to get into a work account that I had created in 2019. In 2022, my boss had completely taken me off of managing that service and had his own account, so I deleted it from my authenticator. Then in 2024 my boss sold the business but didn't provide MFA for a ton of the accounts we've got. I was able to get back into my account because five years earlier I had taken a photo of the ten security codes from the company and saved them in a folder on my desktop called "work recovery codes." If you are going to use MFA, it is VITALLY IMPORTANT that you save recovery codes for the accounts you're authenticating someplace that you'll be able to find them, because MFA is so secure that the biggest problem with it is locking people out of their accounts.

In any kind of business context, I think MFA should be mandatory. No question.

For personal accounts, I think you should be pointed and cautious where you apply it, and always leave yourself another way in. There are SO MANY stories about people having their phones wiped or stolen or destroyed and losing MFA with the device because they didn't have a backup of the app or hadn't properly transferred it to a new device.

But it's also important to note that MFA is not a "fix all security forever" thing - I've talked about session hijacking here and the way you most often see MFA defeated is by tricking someone into logging in to a portal that gives them access to your cookies. This is usually done by phishing and sending someone a link to a fake portal.

That is YET ANOTHER reason that you should be using a good password manager that allows you to set the base domain for the password you're using so that you can be sure you're not logging in to a faked portal. If your password manager doesn't have that feature (setting the domain where you can log in to the base domain) then I recommend that you get a better password manager (get bitwarden.)

In 2020 my terrible boss wanted me to write him a book about tech that he could have run off at a vanity press and could give to prospect customers as a business card. That was a terrible idea, but I worked on the book anyway and started writing it as a book about security for nontechnical people. I started out with a very simple statement:

If every one of our customers did what we recommend in the first four chapters of this book (make good backups, use a password manager and complex unique passwords, enable MFA, and learn how to avoid phishing), we would go out of business, because supporting problems that come from those four things is about 90-95% of our work.

So yes, absolutely, please use MFA. BUT! Save your recovery codes.

[diz-eaze]

online friend kinich

; and how he's closer to you than you thought.

; yandere, modern au, creepnich agenda, invasion of personal space, stalking, kinich is on his freak game, not proofread.

other people fear spiders and the murky depths of the sea. but you fear something else.

you can count the number of friends you have with just one hand, the single digit a direct result from your vehement avoidance of social interactions and fear of the outside. the idea of speaking to another person in public causes your throat to seize, your hands to clam up, and your knees to buckle. being perceived beyond a characterization you deem acceptable is too much for you to bear.

as a child, you were told the dangers of strangers, along with tales your aunt told of kidnappings, murder, and accidents that happen on the road, all of which have kept you awake at night countless times.

but children grow up, they abandon these fears to progress in their life. unfortunately for you, the fear sticks like a second skin, even burrowing beneath the surface and penetrating deep into your soul.

instead, you retreat. you keep yourself locked inside the comfort of your room, too scared to take a single step.

while your education still begrudingly takes place on campus, your already few friends can only access you through discord messages and tiktok streaks since you're gone with the wind as soon as dismissal rings. within the bleak, dark walls of your abode, accompanied by shelves lined up with merchandise of your favorite media, you only feel safe here. in here, there are no white vans or judgmental eyes.

besides, anonymity online allows you to act in a way that your peers would never expect you to be; it allows you to be yourself for other strangers to accept without risking your safety.

really, this is the only world that you need.

today, you fought with one of your friends over your lifelong fears. she had insisted that the solution was for you to go out more, and you blatantly shut all of her ideas down with a repeated anxious shake of your head. she persisted, but you stood your ground, even if your voice was shaky.but you're weak, so it ended with you running out of the classroom in tears. her scathing remark leaves a burning sensation in your throat, trapping the sobs that wish to escape.

she doesn't - couldn't - understand.

it's a mantra that envelops your mind when you harshly shut the door to your room, unalthletic lungs desperately heaving in oxygen to regain your bearings. tears stain your face, but you don't even bother to wipe them off when your legs maneuver you infront of your monitor.

it's practically muscle memory now; you turn on your computer, type in your password, open up discord, and your fingers dance around the keyboard as you type up a message to the only person who can truly understand you.

almightydragonlord1111.

a silly username, one that still manages to invoke a laugh to bubble out your throat even if cracked at the edges. he had explained to you once that he created his account back in middle school, hence the cringe-inducing title.

you never bothered to ask for his real name. he had offered once in the past, but you refused. you like the split between knowing all his vulnerable thoughts, yet not even knowing what his real name is or what he looks like. perhaps it makes it easier for you to hypothetically leave behind this stranger who knows everything about you, should a day like that come.

kal3idoscope: hi, almightydragonlord1111 can i vent for a min? only if ur not busy ofc. sorry lol idk anyone else to approach. haha.

leaning back into the cushion of your gaming chair, you release an exhausted sigh.

a second only passed when his reply came.

almightydragonlord1111: hey, of course it is.

almightydragonlord1111: you can even call me if you want :) i'm here for you, always.

kal3idoscope: i'll stay with venting thru dms haha

kal3idoscope: but thank u, seriously ☹️💘

and you do, you tell him of your deep-rooted frustrations, your fight with your friend, and being torn between staying in the comforts of your room or finally taking that first step to face the world. you tell him of how terrified you are to be viewed through the lenses of another person. you tell him everything, your feelings spilling over each sentence and letter typed.

when you finish sending it all, it takes him a couple of minutes to process the sheer amount of text you've made him read through, and you watch with abated breath, staring at his icon.

almightydragonlord1111: ... wow

almightydragonlord1111: honestly, i can see both sides of the argument

almightydragonlord1111: it's not like you asked to be afraid of these things. i get it. but at the same time, not everyone is out to get you?

almightydragonlord1111: and i don't mean that in a demeaning way, i promise

almightydragonlord1111: still... ultimately, she's right, you know. maybe you don't need to enjoy going outside after just one trip... but just take it step by step, yeah?

you know deep down that your friend was right to an extent, but being told of the reality by someone you deeply trusted stung your heart. you don't even know why you're hurt by it - maybe deep down, you wanted him to agree with you and take your side. but you suck in a deep breath, trying your best to not let your hurt shine through.

kal3idoscope: orfkrerbrnfvmkr

kal3idoscope: AHHHHHHHHHHHH

kal3idoscope: ok ok maybe im a bitttt too paranoid, thats fair 😭😭

kal3idoscope: but idk really know where to start eekkkkkk

almightydragonlord1111: hmm

almightydragonlord1111: maybe somewhere local for now?

almightydragonlord1111: you can even bring a friend with you if you feel too unsafe

kal3idoscope: oh

kal3idoscope: no need :')

kal3idoscope: i dont think i can talk to them rn

kal3idoscope: but yeah! ill try some cafes around my area :D maybe tomorrow or next week idk fkvvmkrni

kal3idoscope: thnx almightydragonlord1111, srsly

almightydragonlord1111: no prob :)

almightydragonlord1111: anyways, you up for valo?

kal3idoscope: always 🤓💯

you push the issue to the back of your mind, for now enjoying your time spent with him.

a week later, as you promised to almightydragonlord1111, you find yourself in a secluded corner of a cafe not far from your house. for once, you're outside for a reason other than school. sinking into the plush cushions, you obsessively eye anyone passing by, checking for any dangerous object they may carry on their person.

you probably look crazy to some of them, and the idea makes you wince.

you force yourself to stop looking like some creep once you realize that there are fewer people inside the cafe than you previously thought. soon, your body begins to relax after your mind has been on overdrive since you entered the establishment.

your order arrives, bid with a wobbly "thank you" from your lips, and you plug your earphones in. several minutes come to pass while you idly mess around on your laptop, trying to see how long you can last out in public.

30 minutes in, a hooded figure opens the glass door to the cafe, causing the chime to ring: a newcomer, it signals to the workers. you hadn't cared, eyes too preoccupied and with the music blasting in your ears as you tried to get used to the new environment.

but then the sound of a metal chair scraping against the floor as it's pulled back is heard through your earphones. you snap your eyes over to check, only to visibly flinch back upon seeing that the hooded figure chose to sit right next to you out of all the other available tables.

your body tenses up once again, spine set in a perfect vertical line as you try to rationalize the situation in your head. you survey the hooded figure from the corner of your eyes, noting the neon highlights in the outfit and that their face can't be seen at all, covered up by a black face mask and sunglasses. still, a silver dangling earring peeks out every now and then from his occasional movements. and his body figure isn't the burly type, though you know better than to underestimate a complete stranger.

who's to say they don't have sharp objects hidden beneath the layers of clothing? you shudder in terror, body unconsciously inching away from them.

unpredictably, they inch closer.

you suck in a sharp breath, extremely alarmed. the hooded figure must have heard it because you hear an amused huff shortly after. it only serves to turn your blood ice-cold.

as if to egg you on, they advance once more, leaving you with no room to exit as you're already pressed up by the corner.

shaking, you now know that you're not being paranoid - this person is really out to get you. your shaking fingers grip onto the cotton material of your graphic t-shirt, already feeling tears welling up in your eyes. you really shouldn't have gone outside today.

they shuffle closer, and you whimper out in trepidity.

on the table, you spy your laptop and phone on standby but too far away for you to grab. if you could, you would've opened up discord and frantically messaged almightydragonlord1111 your local area to call the authorities. sadly, there's no one here to help you.

you close your eyes, begging for an employee to glance over the corner of the cafe and see that you're in clear distress. but zero prayers are answered as their body soon comes into contact with yours.

they chuckle, a boyish tone that leads you to believe that this person is a man. he breathes down on your neck, chest heaving in a repeated up and down motion. the hot air of his breath hits your nape, and you shudder in disgust.

the world feels as if it's closing in, limiting the space until it can only hold you and this terrifying stranger. every second that ticks by only adds to your increasing anxiety, furthering your fear of the outside world once this situation comes to pass.

you should tell him to stop - to leave you alone. you should be angry, snarling out profanities and berating this guy for having the audacity to even come close to you.

but all that trickles out of your lips is a whisper, a plea: "please... leave me alone. please."

the hooded figure pauses, and you feel his stare bore into you, piercing through your clothes in order to truly peer in. a few deafening seconds cruise through, and a bead of sweat rolls down your temple.

finally, his body departs from yours, allowing you to finally exhale in relief. you watch with rapt attention as he languidly stands up, stretching his limbs and his silver earring even glinting against the overhead light. soon, he walks out of the cafe, leaving your heart wrapped in dread, not even ordering once.

your hands quickly grab hold of your phone and laptop, frantically shoving everything into your bag as you hastily exit the cafe with shaky knees. you hail a taxi, wanting to be in the comfort of your house as soon as possible.

once inside your abode, you bolt straight for your room, ignoring the inquiries of your older sibling. you shut the door with a loud bang, locking it for safe measure. you feel your legs give up on you, and you fall to the floor in a graceless manner. you try to inhale as much oxygen as your lungs would allow.

breathe in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out.

the sound of your notifications going off breaks through your spiraling mental health.

you move to sit up. fishing for your phone, your quivering breath turns labored when you see the message isn't coming from any of your social media, but from your phone's text messages itself.

someone found your phone number.

unknown number: it was nice to finally see you in person :) my real name is kinich, by the way.

unknown number: i hope we can share a conversation face-to-face next time.

unknown number: i'm glad you didn't bring a friend with you, it was just the two of us :)

you were right.

there really is something to fear about the world beyond your room.

[supreme-leader-stoat]

Can you expound on the doppelganger protocol? I'm curious

The doppelganger protocols are as such:

Upon encountering your doppelganger, attempt to ascertain if they are immediately hostile towards you.

If they are not immediately hostile, attempt to ascertain the extent of any shared memories using personal secrets/trust passwords.

If memories do not match, attempt to ascertain if you are dealing with an imposter or simply a divergent copy.

If they are immediately hostile, or if you're dealing with an imposter, attempt to retreat to a safe distance while maintaining observation, then call for backup i you can. Provide any backup you call with passcodes to prove your identity on arrival.

If you're dealing with a divergent copy, try to figure out the point of divergence (when the cloning occurred, where timelines diverged, etc.).

If the nature of the divergence suggests that you and your doppelganger are encountering each other as a result of timeline drift, attempt to figure out whose 'native' timeline you're currently in (if any).

Attempt to find secure lodgings and material support for the clone/non-native doppel if necessary.

Figure out which nicknames you and your doppel are going to use. Neither copy has exclusive use of your "real name" to prevent favoritism. This step is crucial to managing long-term friction between iterations, as otherwise the "not real" duplicate might grow resentful.

If the situation cannot be immediately resolved (e.g. help a timeline-displaced doppelganger return to their native universe). then get outside help to untangle the legal nightmare that is two people sharing literally all their identifying information.

The doppelganger protocols are primarily intended to diffuse tensions between multiple doppels with baseline or near-baseline morality and should not be treated as a catch-all solution. The doppelganger protocols are deliberately limited in scope as attempting to cover all possible scenarios defeats the purpose of an easily-memorized set of steps. Be prepared to adapt to unforseen situations especially in the event that you encounter a hostile or morally inverted doppelganger. Chuck is not responsible for any distress, injury, death, or existential damage that may occur as a result of applying the doppelganger protocols. Always think before you act and remember; if someone is your doppelganger, then that means you're their doppelganger too.

[nouearth]

breaking news.

bruce wayne x male reader headcanon.

summary: bruce has been making national headlines once again, but this time, you're caught up in it.

warnings: bale!bruce, panicked!reader, media frenzy surrounding relationship with bruce!

dating bruce wayne in public included explosive media coverage when the news of your relationship first leaked. for weeks upon weeks, it was all every news outlet and the public could talk about—gossip about. people couldn't flip through their tv, or scroll through their phone without seeing:

THIS JUST IN: BRUCE WAYNE, MULTI-BILLIONAIRE PHILANTHROPIST AND PLAYBOY, CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC RENDEZVOUS WITH... A MAN?

it all started with a photo; a voyeuristic shot that framed you and bruce sitting in one of the restaurants that he'd invested in, holding hands and laughing by the candle light. it was one of the many dates where he closed business for the night for privacy reasons—to keep you safe from the public's eye. and judging from the angle, it was evident that it was one of the employees that had managed to stay back in the building.

to be honest, it was tasteful. nothing scandalous or even remotely explicit, especially if you had to compare to the scandals of men of bruce's status. as much as you felt like your privacy was invaded, you couldn't help but feel relieved when you saw bruce's smile in the photo. the way he looked at you with such doting eyes, his thumb caressing over the bridge between your index and thumb, the plates of food left cold because you were addicted to his company, and vice versa.

it was an intimate moment that was ruined by selfishness—greed.

for a brief moment, you felt... scared. the windows in your apartment were immediately shut and blinded by curtains; the locks in your doors were triple-checked; your passwords were immediately changed to new ones you'd probably forget in the future. you felt eyes on your back, pierced through the walls, watching your every move even if they hadn't.

and as much as you teased bruce about leaving him after your fifteen minutes of fame, you needed him more than ever.

"bruce, what do i—what's happening?""alfred's coming, you're at home, right? i'm talking with my security team right now and—"

it wouldn't be long until people found out who the 'mysterious man' in question was.

in less than an hour, your social media presence had a tenfold increase. photos on your feed received more comments and likes you could ever count. many of them ran with the narrative that you were simply an object of bruce's undisclosed desire for men, his boy toy. and before you knew it, the news outlet began reporting the same, including their own findings of your life.

dating bruce wayne in public included him hugging you as soon as you arrived to his manor. it was a protective instinct that had been brewing since he heard how panicked—how afraid you were—on the phone. while multiple phones rang off the hook, bruce took the time to let you breathe into you, to find a sense of peace as he held you, comforted you with affectionate words in your ear, affectionate touches that rendered you calm and ultimately safe again.

dating bruce wayne in public included bruce addressing his relationship with you in a press conference. it was silly that it had come to this point, but he made sure his feelings regarding how the news outlets had turned a relationship between two men into a media frenzy were known.

"yes, i am in a loving relationship with (M/N)." "no, i am not dating a man for relevancy." "who wears the pants—really? security, let's escort him out, please?" "no, my fiancé is not what those rumors have suggested." "and yes, (M/N) is my fiancé. be kinder, and i ever so might have the fleeting thought to invite you all to my wedding."

dating bruce wayne in public meant that you were advised to keep your answers as vague as possible when you were approached by paparazzis. there were few times where you could escape, but they came in massive groups, bombarding you, and the security team that bruce had hired to protect you, with questions that would guarantee the tabloids massive engagement, but you wouldn't falter.

"ah... yes—he's doing very well, thank you." "oh? my coat? bruce gifted it to me on my birthday a few years ago!" "what do i like... uh, cooking! i make a mean burger—ask bruce yourself!"

and as the public began to know you more, through your timid answers, to the wary and tired smile that only emphasized the dark circles on your face, you were rather... charming? compared to bruce, they've quickly fallen in love with how personal you could be at times. where bruce was always stoic and formal in his answers, you stuttered and answered with a laugh, unexpectedly cracking a joke in between.

it didn't take much interaction before the public realized what made bruce fall in love with a man like you.

dating bruce wayne in public included you becoming quite of a celebrity yourself. alongside bruce's, your day was documented from the very minute you stepped onto a sidewalk and started your day. what was your order at the local coffee shop? what did you like having for lunch? your favorite movie? your favorite thing about bruce?

you were a hot commodity and everyone wanted a piece of you.

though, that never stopped your weekly dates with him. golfing, swimming, hiking, eating; you'd hear the clicks of photos being taken from the shadows, and it was bruce who always held you closer, by the shoulders or by the hand to remind you that you were safe with him.

"they'll get tired of us eventually.""hopefully..."

with him by your side, it wasn't so bad that the camera flashes never failed to blind you whenever you two shared a sweet kiss.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[seungkw1]

safe haven — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x fem!reader ♡ theme: fluff, hurt/comfort ♡ wc: 3.9k ♡ warnings: post-breakup dynamics, cheating (from ex), swearing, mentions of food ♡ a/n: written as part of the Winter with You collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here!! give all these talented writers some love <3 and big thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading!!

As if your fiancé leaving you for another woman wasn’t enough to make this the shittiest week of your life, now you’ve managed to lock yourself out of your house during an incoming blizzard. At least your next-door neighbor is home, and he’s kind enough to offer you shelter from the storm. You barely know Jihoon, only having spoken to him a few times - but soon, you discover you have more in common than you initially thought.

Five days ago, you made the innocent mistake of picking up your fiancé’s phone when you thought it was yours. You noticed immediately when you saw the lock screen - it was a photo of you and him from last December, posed in front of a Christmas tree, taken minutes after he proposed. In it, you’re smiling ear to ear, enthusiastically showing off the beautiful engagement ring he bought you. The photo has been his wallpaper ever since. “You look so happy,” he told you a couple months ago. “I can’t bring myself to change it.”

You go to set the phone back down, but a notification catches your eye. You take a closer look, discovering a string of WhatsApp messages, all from somebody named Kelsey. 

Huh, that’s weird, you think to yourself. I didn’t know he even used WhatsApp. 

Normally, you’d think nothing of it - but something feels off. You hesitate for a moment. You know each other’s passcodes for the sake of convenience; you’ve never felt the need to go through his phone, and you feel bad about even thinking about doing it. But, your gut is telling you to investigate.

You input the password and open the message thread. You’re not quite sure what you’re even looking for, but two seconds of scrolling tells you all you need to know. Dumbfounded, you read the particular message three more times before it sinks in: 

Can’t wait for our vacation next week baby, I really need to get away from all of this right now. 

Your stomach lurches as if you’ve just been punched in the gut. He told you he was going on a business trip next week. He told you that months ago. 

Get away from ‘all of this’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Does he mean… me???

Blood rushes through your ears as you read through the never-ending series of sexts, nudes, notes more romantic than anything he’s ever said to you before, an entire paper trail of all the times and locations of the evident affair - until you feel like you’re going to be sick. 

No, it’s not real. It can’t be. There’s no way…

Paralyzed, you stand there in disbelief, but as several more minutes of scrolling pass, it becomes clear that this is actually happening. Tears start to well in your eyes, but you quickly bottle it up, converting the energy into anger instead. You take the phone and march into his office to confront him - ready to shut him down when he tries to deny it. 

But, he doesn’t even try to deny it. He doesn’t even care.

“Well, it’s about time you found out anyway,” he tells you nonchalantly.

“Our wedding is in three months!! How fucking long were you going to wait to tell me??”

“I was gonna tell you soon, I just needed it to be the right time.”

“The right time??!! When is there a right time to dump your fiancé???”

“Listen, y/n-”

“Don’t tell me to fucking listen!!” you raise your voice at him. “In fact, don’t say anything else. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“You can’t tell me to get out, this is my house too,” he replies, with the sheer audacity to have a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“It’s MY name on the fucking papers. Get. Out.”

And so, he left. Didn’t even give you his set of keys back. Didn’t even say goodbye.

Now, you sit here parked in your driveway, the howling of harsh winter winds whistling over the melancholy tune playing loudly from the car radio. The volume is cranked all the way up, but despite your best efforts to drown out the outside world, the sharp whooshing sounds persist. Looks like the incoming storm is going to be as bad as predicted - if not worse. The blustering begins to jostle the whole vehicle. You stare aimlessly out the front windshield, watching chunks of snow flying erratically through the air as the winds pick up further. With a sigh, you turn the ignition off, the engine and radio going silent. If you're going to sit around moping, might as well do it inside where it's warm. You reach for the garage door remote clipped on the visor above you, but your hand only hits the soft padding. Right, you think to yourself, still gotta get that one replaced too. 

You drag yourself out of your car, hastily throwing your coat on and stumbling through the wind toward your front door. Flipping through your keys, something feels off. You look down, assuming your frozen fingers are just too stiff to pick out the correct one. You stare at the collection for several seconds, but your house key is not there. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself in confusion. Then, a horrible realization sets in: you never put your new key on the keyring after getting your locks changed. 

You brace yourself against the wind, trudging through the pile of snow accumulating in your front yard. As you reach the window, you lean over the bushes, peering through the partially-shut blinds into your kitchen to see a set of gold keys, sitting upon the center of the countertop. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your stupid ex-fiancé isn’t even around anymore and he’s still finding new ways to make your life miserable. If he had just returned your damn keys, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Tears start welling in your eyes - and this time, you surrender. The droplets begin to freeze on your face almost instantly, but you let yourself cry. After several minutes, you’re feeling slightly better - but you’re getting quite cold. You decide to head back to your car, at least turn the heat on while you try and figure out what to do, no need to stand here and get frostbite-

“Um, excuse me…”

You jump at the sound of the voice coming from behind you, whipping your head around to see a very bundled up man. You can’t see much of his face, but he looks to be in his late-twenties, with dark hair peeking out from under a thick beanie. It takes you a moment, but you realize it’s your next-door neighbor, Jihoon, whom you've met approximately once.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay,” he says loudly, doing his best to speak over the noisy wind. “You’ve been standing out here for a while.”

“Oh,” you reply, also speaking up. You wipe the tears off your cheeks with the back of your gloves. “Um, I’m kind of locked out of my house.”

“Is the lock frozen?”

“No- well actually, I don’t know, it might be, but I don’t have my key,” you explain, gesturing through the window. “It’s in there.”

“How did you manage to do that?” he inquires, not being condescending, but genuinely asking.

“The front door locks behind you when you leave.” 

“Ohhh. Well that’s no good.” He pauses for a moment, looking at you curiously, before continuing.

“Um, well I know you don't know me very well, but if you need a place to wait while you call somebody you are welcome to come in,” he tilts his head toward his house. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but it’s really dangerous to be out in this storm.”

Normally, you’d be standoffish to a man you barely know inviting you into his house - but, something about him tells you you can trust him. He looks and sounds sincere, and you really don’t have anywhere else to go. Plus, you’re fucking freezing. You nod at him.

“I would really appreciate that,” you shout over the wind. He nods back, gesturing for you to follow along. He walks with you to his front door, the both of you taking large steps to trek through the several inches of snow that has already accumulated. He turns the knob and ushers you inside, following quickly and shutting the door behind him. 

The sounds of the howling wind abruptly stop, the door creating a barricade between you and the heavy winter storm. Your ears ring slightly, but as you adjust to the quietness of indoors you pick up on a familiar tune playing from the other room. 

“Is that En Bateau I hear?” you ask as you unlace your boots. 

He’s in the middle of unwrapping his scarf from around his head, but he perks up at your question. “Yeah! You know Petite Suite?” 

“It’s one of my favorites,” you reply warmly as you take off your coat. You try to avoid letting the jacket’s heavy dusting of snow fall to the floor, without success. 

“Dammit, I got your floor all wet,” you inform him with a sigh. You realize you’re shivering - the house is warm, comfortably so, but standing out in the cold for however long you were out there certainly chilled you to your bones. He takes your coat from your hands, shaking off the rest of the snow before putting it on a hanger for you.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he tells you, grabbing a neatly folded towel from the closet and mopping up the mess. “There’s some blankets on the couch, you should warm yourself up.” 

The prospect of a nice cozy blanket sends you speedwalking into the living room. You spot the stack of blankets, also neatly folded, and grab the thickest one you see - it’s plush and velvety, dark red in color, and gigantic. You wrap the soft fleece around your whole body, plopping cross-legged onto the couch, practically turning yourself into a cocoon. Immediately you start to warm up, your poor frozen extremities finally relieved of the painful cold. As you defrost, your brain begins to work again, processing your surroundings. Though you’ve never been inside, your neighbor’s abode feels very homely - the decor is largely cream-colored, accented with warm earth tones, doused in low lighting sourced from a few lamps placed strategically around the room. Though a plain, warm white, the walls are flourished tastefully with various unique artworks - nothing you recognize, but all very pleasing to the eye. Not that your ex was a slob, but you’ve never known a man to be so neat and tasteful. Refreshing, you think to yourself.

You hear soft footsteps from behind you as Jihoon enters the room. You turn to see him bearing a glass of water, a piping hot mug, and a small metal tin. 

“I don’t know if you like tea,” he starts as he sets the beverages on the coffee table’s coasters. “But I thought you might want something warm to drink.”

“Tea sounds great, thank you so much,” you reply as you wiggle your arms out of the tangle of blanket surrounding you. Reaching for the tin, you pull out a bag of Earl Grey and place it in the mug to steep.

“It’s y/n, right?” he asks as he sits in a nearby armchair.

“That’s me,” you reply. “And you’re Jihoon, yes?”

He nods to confirm. “I know we met once a while ago,” he adds, “but I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

"Of course I remember, I accidentally stole your packages,” you say with a laugh. “I felt bad about that for months.”

“No harm done, it was an honest mistake,” he replies with a calm smile. 

The tea is nowhere near ready, but you take a sip anyway. The hot liquid sends a wave of warmth through your whole body, making you instantly feel much better. Now that you’re not freezing and in tears, you can finally think straight, and you remember why you’re here in the first place.

“I should call the locksmith, god knows how long it’s gonna take them to get here in this storm,” you state as you look around for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh, I think my phone is still in my bag.”

You start to get up, but Jihoon is faster.

“Here, I’ll grab it for you.”

He disappears from the room in an instant, returning a few moments later with your bag in hand. Thanking him politely, you rummage around for your phone until you find it. You open Google and type locksmith into the search, calling the first one you see with good reviews. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, due to the storm we aren’t able to send anyone out until tomorrow.”

You try another one, but it’s the same story. A third one, no luck either. Nobody is able to come out until tomorrow morning. Dejected, you go ahead and schedule an appointment for 7am the next day. You do your best to remain calm, but you’re too exhausted to hold in your tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say to Jihoon, burying your face with your hands.

“Hey,” he replies softly. “It’s gonna be okay. You can stay here as long as you need.” 

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you sigh.

“You’re not,” he assures you. “I promise. You’re welcome to take the guest room.”

“Are you sure?” you say with a sniffle, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Of course,” he nods. 

“Thank you so much,” you tell him sincerely. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem at all,” he says with a soft smile. “Also, are you hungry? I have some leftover stew I was going to heat up, if you’d like some.”

You didn’t even realize that you were hungry, but the mention of food makes your stomach rumble. 

“That sounds amazing,” you reply. 

Jihoon spends a few minutes in the kitchen, returning with two steaming bowls of a hearty-looking beef stew. 

“This is delicious,” you remark as you scoop another chunk of potato into your mouth. “I’m gonna need your recipe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jihoon replies humbly. “I’m glad you like it.”

Several moments of silence pass between you two as you enjoy the meal, the music of Debussy’s piano filling the room in lieu of conversation. But instead of it being awkward, you feel peaceful, replenished from the food and the warmth of Jihoon’s home.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he eventually turns to ask you. “I like having something on while I eat, but if not it’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply. “What are you watching right now?”

“Oh, um, I like… anime,” he says sheepishly, turning slightly pink with embarrassment. “But we definitely don’t have to watch that. What do you like?”

“Have you seen The Great British Bake Off?” you respond. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Never heard of it,” he admits, but he already has the tv remote in hand, opening the app.

“I haven’t seen the new season yet, if you want to start there.”

“Will I understand it if I haven’t seen the other seasons?” he inquires, causing you to giggle.

“It’s a reality show, each season is different,” you fill him in, proceeding to explain the premise. He listens earnestly, but his facial expression tells you he is skeptical. 

“It’s really good, I promise!” you assure him.

“I don’t really get it,” he admits with a confused look on his face. “But if you say it’s good, I’ll take your word for it.”

He puts on the first episode, letting you explain the different challenges to him. About halfway through the episode, he turns to you.

“So… what exactly do they win?”

“A cake stand,” you answer. The look of bewilderment on his face makes you laugh again.

“So they don’t even get any money from it??”

“Nope,” you reply, cozying up under the blanket again. “That’s why it’s so wholesome.”

“Ah, okay,” he says, still unsure about the whole thing. But by the end of the first episode, he’s hooked.

“How do they do that??” he remarks at each contestant’s fanciful cake in the final challenge, his eyes glued to the tv. As soon as the credits start to roll, he clicks the Next Episode button.

“See? I told you it was good,” you say with a sleepy smile. The combination of the satisfying dinner, the warmth of the blanket, and the relaxing nature of the show is quickly making your eyelids turn heavy. You lean your head against the back of the couch, determined not to doze off - but within a few minutes, you are fast asleep.

The soft light of early dawn glows through your closed eyelids as you begin to awaken. You’re so warm and comfortable that you don’t even bother opening your eyes - instead you just lay there, relaxing under the blankets. As your brain slowly wakes, last night’s events start to register in your mind - you grimace as you recall the bitter cold of being stuck outside your own house, having a breakdown, feeling utterly helpless until-

Your eyes pop open. Sleepily adjusting to the morning light filtering in through the windows, you see that you’re still in Jihoon’s house, on the couch. You turn your face to see a pillow underneath your head that wasn’t there previously, and an extra knit blanket draped over the red fleece one that was already wrapped around you. Jihoon is nowhere in sight, presumably still asleep. You wonder what time it is - when suddenly you remember the locksmith appointment you made for 7am. Panicked, you bolt upright, searching for your phone amidst the blankets, until you spot it laying upon the coffee table, plugged into a charger that isn’t yours. You snatch it up, your heart sinking when you see the time: 7:34am.

“SHIT,” you grumble to yourself. You hurriedly unravel yourself from the tangle of blankets - it’s still warm in his house, but a chill hits you in the absence of the cozy covers. Sitting fully upright, you feel your feet bump something as they touch the carpet. Looking down, you spot a pair of slippers - light beige in color, women’s, brand new with the tags still on. For a moment you feel a bit weird about putting them on (Why does he have these, anyway?), but you’re cold, and at this point you don’t care. You slip them on, the comfort of the fluffy interior immediately making you  glad you did. They feel high quality - luxurious even, and now you feel nice and toasty. Rising from the couch, you grab the top blanket and wrap it around you. The inviting scent of coffee suddenly hits you - you follow it into the kitchen, where Jihoon stands before a brewing coffee pot. Noticing you have entered the room, he turns to greet you.

“Good morning,” he says warmly. He wears a pair of plaid pajama pants, seemingly with a matching top underneath a dark fleece quarter-zip. You note that he also has slippers on, not too dissimilar from the ones currently on your feet. As the coffee finishes brewing, he grabs two mugs, gesturing to you with one. 

“Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some,” you answer. He takes the pot and pours the piping hot beverage into your mug.

“Cream and sugar?” 

“Yes, please.”

He fixes your drink and hands you the steaming mug. You take a small, careful sip, your insides instantly warmed by the smooth brew.

“Delicious, thank you,” you tell him, taking another generous sip.

“Of course,” he nods.

“Guess I missed the locksmith,” you say with a sigh. “I should’ve thought to set an alarm before I passed out.”

He turns, reaching for something on the counter. Turning back, he extends his hand to you, your keys laying in his palm.

“Already taken care of,” he says with a smile.

“How did you…” Your words trail off as you take the keys, your fingertips lightly grazing his warm skin. 

“I met the locksmith and explained the situation,” he explains. “He picked the lock in like, one minute.” He gives you an apologetic look as he continues. “I’m sorry I went into your house without asking you first, I felt bad, but I didn’t want to have to wake you and drag you out into the cold.”

“Don’t apologize,” you reply, shaking your head quickly. “I really really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he tells you with a soft smile.

“Thank you for the pillow too,” you add. “And the slippers, glad you had these laying around,” you say with a grin. His smile fades slightly, glancing away for a moment. 

“They were supposed to be a gift,” he says as he looks at you again. “But I didn’t need them anymore. You can keep them.” He smiles, but despite trying to hide it, his tone is tinged with sadness.

“Oh,” you say softly. “You sure?”

He hesitates slightly, unsure whether to tell you.

“They were for my girlfriend, but she left me a couple weeks ago,” he admits. He looks down at his coffee, stirring it aimlessly with the spoon. A pang of sympathy hits you. 

“I’m sorry,” you say gently. “I unfortunately can relate. My fiancé left me five days ago, for another woman.”

He perks his head up slightly in surprise. “Oh wow, what an awful week this must be. I’m sorry, too.”

“Yeah, quite honestly, it fucking sucks,” you say, staring off into space a bit. 

“I was about to propose,” he adds, unsure exactly why he’s telling you this. But you both are feeling a newfound, unspoken kinship in your aligned misfortunes. “But one day she just told me she didn’t love me anymore.”

“Jesus, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry,” you empathize. “I found out my fiancé was cheating on me and confronted him. He didn’t even give a shit so I kicked him out, haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Wow,” Jihoon says with wide eyes. He lets out a sigh. “I had already bought a ring, too. She didn’t know, but I had the whole proposal planned out.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “I guess it’s for the better that she left before I even bothered.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it any less painful though.”

“Definitely not. And I wasn’t even able to return the ring.” He laughs, letting out an incredulous huff. 

“Oh my god,” you react in bewilderment. 

“It’s alright,” he says calmly. “Maybe I’ll be able to use it someday.”

His eyes linger on you slightly too long as the words roll off his tongue. The moment is brief, fleeting - but it’s enough for you to notice. 

“Would you like any more coffee?” he asks before you can fully process anything, nudging the pot in your direction.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you reply, finishing the last bit in your mug. 

“Here, I’ll take it.” 

“I better get going, now that I can actually get into my house,” you announce with a smile. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You weren’t a bother at all,” he assures you. “But I’m sure you’re dying to go home.”

Jihoon walks to his entryway. He gathers your things for you, taking your coat from the closet and helping you into it.

“I truly can’t thank you enough,” you tell him sincerely. “You really saved my ass.”

He smiles at you. “You’re very welcome. It was nice to finally properly meet you, y/n.”

He hands you something as he opens the door for you. You take it - it’s a blue sticky note, with his name and phone number written neatly on it.

“You can always call me if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you smile warmly, folding the note and tucking it safely into your pocket. “I will.”

[corvessa]

Finding Out You're Dating a Security Risk

a/n: honestly had a thought that theo wouldn’t be the one with good online safety habits, and since the reader’s super tech-savvy, it created this sweet, mildly stressful, and kinda educational moment. tried to keep it easy to follow, even if you’re not into tech stuff. Summary: A coding stream takes a turn when a casual chat with Theodore reveals a surprising security risk, and a very patient lesson in digital hygiene begins.

Your stream was already buzzing. No League today, no cozy indie games. Just your VSCode window open, some terminal lines running, and a full-blown “tech talk” kind of vibe.

“So,” you said, gesturing at your screen, “when someone logs into a website, their info—like username and password—gets sent over HTTPS. That’s basically a secure connection. Like a locked box for your data.”

Next to you on camera, Theodore nodded slowly while sipping his tea, trying to look like he understood more than five percent of what you just said.

“So… it’s like an invisibility cloak for your password?”

You laughed. “Sure. Basically. It keeps bad people from spying on your info while it’s being sent from your computer to the website.”

“Spying how, exactly?”

“Well,” you explained, “every time you go online, you send tiny packets of data—little bits that make up whatever you’re doing, like loading a page or logging in. If someone’s watching the network and it’s not encrypted, they can steal that data.”

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “Wait. So if the connection isn’t locked, people can just… grab my password mid-air?”

“Exactly.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds super illegal.”

“It is. That’s why HTTPS is non-negotiable. Every login page. Every time.”

You turned back to your code, typing out a function. There was a quiet moment.

Then he casually asked, “So, if one of my passwords is encrypted on a site, it’s safe everywhere, right?”

You didn’t look up. “Not really. Why?”

“Well… I just use the same password for everything. One good one. Easy to remember.”

You froze mid-keystroke.

“…You what?”

“I mean, sometimes I switch it up. Like I’ll add a ‘99’ or an exclamation point, depending on the mood.”

Your head slowly turned toward him. “Theodore.”

“What?”

You minimized your code window.

“Please tell me you’re not using the same email for all of those accounts too.”

He blinked. “Uh… yeah? Isn’t that what people do?”

Your eye twitched.

- she's buffering - ERROR: boyfriend has no digital hygiene - help. she’s going to ascend - he’s charming and a walking data breach

You took a long breath.

“Okay. Picture this. Just one of those sites gets hacked. Just one. Your email and password are out there now. Anyone can try logging into your other accounts using the same combo.”

He tilted his head. “That actually happened to me once.”

You stared at him. “I'm sorry—what?”

“Yeah. A couple years ago. I got logged out of Spotify, and when I got back in, all the playlists were in Portuguese.”

- NOT THE PORTUGUESE PLAYLIST TAKEOVER 💀 - i am CRYING - the man’s passwords are possessed

You opened another browser tab and typed in his email on Have I Been Pwned—a site that shows if your email has been in any known data leaks.

“…Theodore, you’re in five data breaches.”

He squinted at the screen. “Wait, that’s me? Why is my email there? Who even uses Adobe?”

You pressed your hands to your face. “Babe. No. We need to talk about password managers.”

“But I remember all my passwords! I use the same one, and I just—"

“That. Is. The. Problem.”

He tilted his head again like a golden retriever being scolded gently. “I thought I was being smart.”

“You’re being hackable.”

- ICONIC LINE - protect him. educate him. at all cost. - she’s gonna install NordPass with tears in her eyes - build him a digital sandbox and keep him in it

You leaned back, trying to stay calm.

“Okay. New plan. After the stream, we are:

Downloading a password manager.

Turning on two-factor authentication. Everywhere.

Deleting anything with a birthday, pet name, or your favorite pasta in it.

NEVER using your go-to password again.”

He winced a little. “...Even for Netflix?”

You stared at him like you were considering launching him into the sun.

“Got it. Changing Netflix. Copy that.”

You sighed. “You are… my favorite vulnerability.”

He lit up. “Aww.”

“Not in a good way.”

- the romance is coded in JSON - cybergeek x golden retriever is THE blueprint - imagine being so hot you get away with this kind of digital crime

Eventually the stream wound down, and Theodore helped you shut things off. He looked sheepish.

“Hey… thanks for not yelling.”

You shook your head. “I’m not mad. Just… wildly, deeply concerned.”

He chuckled. “At least I learned what HTTPS is. And I’m kinda excited to get a password manager now. Can I name it something cool? Like… Vaulto, the Guardian of Secrets?”

“…Yes. But only if I get to set it up for you.”

“Deal.”

You paused. “Also, we’re changing your email recovery questions. ‘Favorite food: pasta’ is not cutting it.”

He nodded solemnly. “That’s fair.”

You muttered under your breath. “If you’ve ever typed ‘password123’ I swear to god—”

“…With a capital P?” he offered.

You facepalmed.

a/n: Yes, Have I Been Pwned is a real website (haveibeenpwned.com) where you can check if your email has appeared in any known data breaches. It’s free, safe, and surprisingly eye-opening. If you haven’t checked it before, this is your sign — stay safe online, use strong passwords, and maybe... don’t reuse the same one everywhere like our boy Theo in this story.

[imagineweasley]

Into the Basement for You

fred weasley x reader

summary: you, fred, george, and lee have been on the road running potterwatch for the past few months, managing to stay in hiding. unfortunately, death eaters track you down and rip you away from them. fred plunges straight into the darkness with you - he'll never let them take you from his side.

warnings: mentions of violence and injury

y/n: your name

submit requests here! | masterlist

author's note: my writer's block made me want to jump off a cliff but here it is finally done!

--

the door was thrown open with a loud creak and a bang as it hit the wall and made the basement shake. you could see two faint silhouettes, one of which was fenrir greyback; the werewolf was one of voldemort's top henchmen, and the reason you had ended up here. fenrir's growling laughter echoed through the dank basement as he threw the figure onto the ground. the newcomer grunted as he hit the floor but managed to throw an obscene hand gesture at the werewolf before the door slammed shut.

darkness engulfed you again. it had been days - or maybe weeks - since you had met the poor newcomer's same fate. you had been ripped away from your boys: george and lee, but most devastatingly, your boyfriend fred. for the first few days, you pounded on the door and screamed until your fists were black and blue, but even the strongest can be weakened. ever since that night, you had barely been able to eat or drink; the anxiety over your friends was debilitating, and you spent all your waking hours wondering if they were alive or dead. thankfully (but quite unfortunately), luna and ollivander had been able to coax some food into you, just enough for you to survive.

--

the four of you had been on the road for months now, ever since the trio disappeared on their mysterious mission. at least once a week, you, fred, george, and lee ran a secret broadcast called potterwatch, a radio show you had come up with to keep the wizarding world informed and aware to the best of your abilities. fred and george had worked out the kinks while you and lee used your vast connections to recruit trusted informants.

one night, after bill's guest segment on goblin sentiments, you leaned against the wall of your latest safespot - a shed behind an abandoned warehouse - and chatted with him as he packed up his things to return home.

"y'know, the news isn't the only thing people like about the show."

you tore your gaze away from fred, who had just pelted himself in the face with a ball he had bounced against the wall, and turned your attention to bill.

"really? what else is there to enjoy?"

"the fun of it."

you were taken aback. "the... the fun? of the war?"

"yeah," bill smirked, "even when you're reporting on a war, you lot have a very difficult time keeping it doom and gloom. they like the jokes and shenanigans - makes things feel kind of normal."

you couldn't help but chuckle. he wasn't wrong about the lack of ability to be serious in the group. from then on, potterwatch turned into a part-time comedy show, with the four of you hopping on once a week to simply chat about everything and nothing and hopefully make people laugh.

the night you were attacked had been the first warm night in months. you had just finished a broadcast - "... the next password will be 'marauders.' keep each other safe. keep faith. and goodnight" - and were hanging out in the front yard of your latest hideout, which was a small cottage in the middle of an abandoned town.

you sat on the front steps with fred, watching as george and fred pelted snowballs at each other and giggled like little boys. you leaned fred's head against his shoulder and he held you close to his side, rubbing your arms to keep you warm even though you already were.

you were the first to break the silence, humming, "fred, when all of this is over, what's going to happen?" the two of you played this game everyday; it was an excuse to be able to fantasize about a future, something that was never guaranteed these days.

fred's face split into a smile as he replied with his line, "hm, i think we could have a little cottage like this one."

"yeah?"

"yeah. and we could have a nice garden -"

"neither one of us know how to garden."

"- that we would kill every year, and george would probably be there because he's an annoying git."

george stopped mid-throw to point at his twin and yell, "save me a room!" lee took this opportunity to hit him in the face with a large snowball. fred rolled with laughter and you shook your head, giggling at george's stunned expression.

when fred was done laughing at his brother, he wiped tears from his eyes and pointed at you, "now your turn."

you tapped your chin with your finger, feigning deep thought even though you knew exactly what you were picturing. "i think i'd like a flat in london too. our cottage would be where we can get away to when london gets to be too much. d'you think we could do that?"

fred chuckled and pecked you on your lips, "anything you want, baby."

he opened his mouth to continue when there was a CRACK and suddenly, you were engulfed in robes. a scream escaped your lips as rough hands grabbed your arms and started dragging you before you could even reach for your wand.

the boys roared with anger and through the robes, you saw red lights flashing back and forth as they fired curses at your captors.

"you'll have to try harder than that!" it was fenrir. you had heard whispers that voldemort himself had put him in charge of hunting down wanted wizards. he cackled as he easily dodged the curses and continued to drag you away from the group.

you heard another familiar laugh. "gotcha now, weasleys! he's going to be so happy with us!" yaxley swerved back and forth, effortlessly avoiding the flashing light.

you kicked and screamed as hard as you could, twisting to try to reach your wand, which was tucked in your pocket, mere inches away from your fingertips, but fenrir's grip was too strong.

"YAXLEY!" he boomed, "this bitch is too squirmy, we need to come back for the rest of them!"

"you stupid werewolf, there is no way we are returning without them!" yaxley's turned slightly to fenrir with annoyance in his eyes, and george took the split second to hit him in the chest and knock him off his feet.

"GIVE HER BACK!" through the grunts and yells, you heard fred's yell in a way you had never heard before.

"FRED!"

"Y/N!" his voice gave you the strength to twist around and kick fenrir in the shins. he growled in pain and slammed you on the ground. the wind was knocked out of you and you couldn't respond to fred, who was trying to fight his way through to you.

yaxley managed to catch his breath and pushed himself ofof the ground. "FINE. let's go. but you're going to have to explain to the dark lord why we've only come back with this girl." panic bubbled in your throat, but all you could do was lay limp on the ground, struggling to breathe. you started fading into black and the last thing you heard was fred screaming your name in agony.

--

the newcomer groaned again as he dragged himself upright.

"dickhead."

your focus on the wall wavered as you registered his voice. something in your hazy mind blinked awake.

"bloody fucking hell."

the brain fog lifted and your heart dropped. you were fully upright now and squinted at the figure in the dim light, trying to make out the familiar voice. you'd know this voice anywhere, from the countless moonlight nights in his arms and kisses in the rain. but it couldn't be. you pushed the hope that was rising in your chest.

his name escaped your lips, dry and crackly from having not spoken for days. "fred?"

he froze. you could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

"y/n?" fred's shaky voice called back. yes. it was him.

a sudden burst of energy surged through your body, and this time, you called out for him with all the strength you had. "fred! fred, i'm here!"

a flash of red hair in the dim light as he scrambled to his feet and ran to you. he was wrapped around you in a second, calling your name with the desperation built up over days of anguish.

your arms wrapped around his neck, and tears mingled as you pressed together as if trying to meld into one.

"fred, my love, is it really you?" you gasped through sobs.

"it's me, y/n, it's me baby. i'm here. oh merlin, you're alive. you're alive!" and then his lips were pressed against yours. you kissed him back as a weight lifted off your chest. you finally felt alive. he kissed you everywhere he could reach, your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, and you couldn't help but laugh, partly in relief, partly in disbelief. it felt good to laugh again.

george. lee. their names suddenly flashed through your mind, and you pulled back. panicked, you gasped, "the rest of them? the boys, are they -"

fred nodded furiously, "they're alright, they're with mom and dad right now. don't you worry your pretty head about them." you sighed in relief and sank into his chest. he pressed you again his body and in typical fred fashion, chuckled, "should i be worried you're thinking about them while you're kissing me?"

you laughed and gently hit his arm, which elicitted a sharp gasp of pain from fred. you pulled back in concern, and finally were able to really inspect his face. blood flowed from a gash on his forehead, only just beginning to stem and coating his cheek with sticky red. his left eye was turning a sickly shade of purple and cuts covered his arm. the arm you had hit was slightly bent at an unnatural angle.

you couldn't help but gasp as you ran your fingers over his wounds.

"merlin... what did they do to you? you look terrible!"

"thank you for that, baby." he grinned before stroking your face and running his eyes over your own relics of torture, his smile fading just slightly, "you look gorgeous yourself." he did mean that. of course you looked beautiful even with cuts and bruises all over your face.

he sighed when you didn't reply, and begrudgingly answered, "they did exactly what they do to people who turn up on their doorstep. they were very happy to see me, it was quite welcoming, actually." you sank down on your heels, lost for words.

"you... what?" tears brimmed in your eyes, and the joking glint in fred's eye disappeared.

"y/n-"

you covered your face with your hands and a muffled cry came out, "how could you, fred? how could you do that?" you were angry that he had risked his life to save you, that he had risked a world in which you would never see him again. "i could have figured it out, you shouldn't have done that."

fred gently took your hands in his, uncovering your face, but you refused to look him in the eyes. he gently replied, "i know you could, but you shouldn't have to. there is no world in which i wouldn't come after you, y/n. i'd cross every ocean, fight any death eater, go into any dark, gross, mouldy basement, just to find you." he kissed the top of your head and stroked your hair, and your anger melted away, just like that. your eyes slid shut as you leaned into the his chest and felt his heartbeat against your cheek.

every beat of his heart was confirmation that he really was with you now, and for the first time in days, you felt hope again. as long as you were together, you'd figure it out day by day, take each step together.

[nightghoul381]

Victor ~ Mistress Contract - Chapter 1

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

CW: This whole thing is centered around affair partners so if references to cheating/affairs bother you, you may want to pass on this one!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

--This was a mansion in the suburbs of London.

Beyond the door lay a glittering world.

The Mistress Club was a place that only men and women in a mistress relationship could enter—that was the place that we would be infiltrating for our mission.

Victor: “Just as I heard, security is tight.”

A burly gatekeeper stood guard in front of the door.

Victor: “Are you ready, Kate?”

Kate: “…Yes. Today, I will play the role of your mistress to the best of my ability, Victor.”

Victor: “That sounds promising. Well then, let’s go.”

As we approached the entrance, the gatekeeper looked at us--.

Strong Gatekeeper: “Complete the phrase. ‘Love is…’”

Victor: “The best service.”

Strong Gatekeeper: “’True love is…’”

Kate: “Phantom.”

Strong Gatekeeper: “’Pleasure is…’”

Victor: “An excellent dessert.”

We answered the three passwords that were known only to members of the Mistress Club, and Victor stared intently at the gatekeeper’s face.

Their expressions didn’t even change a little. The tense atmosphere made me hold my breath—

Strong Gatekeper: “Everything is clear.”

(…Great. Now we can go inside.)

The reason I felt so relaxed and relieved is because of what Alfons had told me.

The biggest hurdle in infiltrating a mistress club is the security at the entrance.

--Flashback—

Alfons: “Once you answer the passwords at the door, all you have to do is jump into a world of free and unconventional love.”

Alfons: “It would be best to give you a lecture on this as well, Kate.”

Alfons: “Are you familiar with the ‘Three Rules a Mistress Relationship Must Follow’?”

Kate: “No, not at all.”

Alfons: “Fufu, what a noble reply. I also find it more rewarding to teach people who have zero knowledge.”

Alfons: “’The Three Rules a Mistress Relationship Must Follow.’ First is to never reveal each other’s secrets.”

Alfons: “Second, you must actively consider any proposal for an affair, even if it is abnormal.”

Alfons: “And the third is that if either of you gets a new lover, you’ll end the relationship.”

Alfons: “When you’re on a mission, keep those three things in mind and enjoy your mistress experience.”

--End Flashback—

(I got a lot of advice from Alfons… So I have to do my best on this mission.)

I regained my courage and tried to head towards the door—but.

Strong Gatekeeper: “Finally, show me your membership card.”

(I haven’t heard of such a thing.)

However, Victor was smiling brightly next to me as I anxiously waited…

Victor: “Should I show my membership card?...Okay, I’ll get it ready now.”

(Eh?)

Victor came closer and his lips brushed against my cheek, and I felt a sweet sensation on my neck.

Victor’s fingertips push the hair that had flowed down my shoulders to the side.

His lips moved to my nape, pecking at the skin with a soft squelching sound…

Kate: “…Ngh.”

Instead of the sensation going away, a red mark was left behind on my neck.

(How come he’s leaving a love bite?)

Victor: “Is this okay?”

Strong Gatekeeper: “Membership confirmed. Please come in.”

Victor: “Thank you. Let’s go, my love.”

Victor winked at me, then took my stiff waist and led me through the door.

Victor: “We managed to get through the difficult part safely.”

Kate: “Y-yes…Actually, Victor, did you know about the membership card?”

Because of my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but speak in a tone that sounded like I was blaming Victor.

(The place where he left the mark… it’s still hot.)

Even though it was necessary to get inside, a feeling of embarrassment continued to fill my chest.

Victor: “The information wasn’t from a reliable source. I didn’t know if it was true or not, so I didn’t tell you.”

Victor: “I was also shocked to learn that a love bite was a membership card.”

Victor: “…But I’m sorry. I touched you like that right at the start of the mission.”

Victor: “I have to pretend to be your lover during the mission, so it’s difficult for me to refrain from touching you.”

Victor: “If you feel uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to tell me.”

Kate: “I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. I was just a little surprised, but I didn’t dislike it.”

Kate: “In fact, your touch was so gentle and made my heart flutter…”

(What am I saying…?)

Victor: “…”

I looked up and saw Victor looking a little confused—

Kate: “N-never mind what I just said. Let’s focus on our mission, Victor!”

Victor: “…As expected of you, Kate. You’re fully prepared to take on the task of being Crown’s fairy tale keeper!”

Victor: “I’ll also work hard from here on out so that you don’t regret teaming up with me.”

Kate: “Now that I think about it… Why did you end up being in charge of this mission, Victor?”

(I wonder if there’s something that requires Victor to go out himself…)

Victor: “There wasn’t any particular reason. I just felt jealous.”

Kate: “Jealous…?”

Victor: “Of everyone who goes on missions with you, every single time.”

Victor: “I’m a member of Crown too, and I thought I’d like to spend a pitch-black night with you.”

Was that a joke, or was he serious—

(But, I think both things are correct.)

Victor: “I think I’ll have you all to myself tonight, my lovely love.”

Behind the light, champagne-like words, there was something that seemed clear but was not.

Just like the Victor I knew now.

He placed my fingertips on the palm of his outstretched hand as if inviting me to dance.

(My heart is beating so loud…)

(It must be because of the love bite he gave me earlier.)

Kate: “I’m looking forward working a mission with you too, Victor.”

Victor: “Ah, then let’s enjoy this jet-black world together.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

[bruh-anator3000]

im obsessed with the Black Cat, I hope that's clear, too. and Miguel. And Logan and Wade, so what if we mashed them all up in a blender and see what happens?

Edit: I didn't mean for this one to get so out of hand, but it did, so its a short story now I guess.

Warnings: sexual themes, hella suggestive, SPOILERS HINTED from the new Deadpool, tension sexy styles, I might get Gambit '97 involved so we can listen to '4 big guys' for part two, it is a love triangle/square, trust and don't worry. Everyone's bisexual. No pronouns for reader used, but written w fem!reader in mind, that's why I'm saying bisexual, but this could just be gay for my amabs.

Parinings: Black Cat!reader x Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson (uh-huh. I said what I said)

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

Like, you didn't want to bring your roommates along with you for this heist. God. You didn't even want their sticky fingers on the paper plans. But you were running low on rent, Blind Al was a bitch now that they suspended her coke supply, and your normal crew got sick!

Dr. Boris Korpse was the smartest man alive. He could hack any system, jimmy any lock, and blew the ones he couldn't up. Bruno wasn't the brightest, but he was the bravest. And he had the muscles to prove it. He was a great getaway driver, too. And they were sick.

Wade was smart... enough. Logan was... decently strong. Logan was more of a brute, actually. Careless with his strength when it came to it, but trusting Wade Wilson to drive you home safe? With his self destructive streak? It was safer to have him do the code cracking. Hopefully.

"I wonder how many people caught the earlier exposition is from the actual comics," Wade grunted under his mask, typing in a special security code into the keypad.

Looking around with furrowed brows, he did realize it was just you three, right? You glanced at Logan, wondering if he understood what Deadpool was saying. He only gave a slight shake of his head.

"It's a quick in and out," You reminded the two, walking past the gates as the hissed open, thanks to Wilson. How he knew the password so easily, you didn't know. He said something about 'writer being too lazy to build up to the reveal,' which made it 'easier to follow if he just knew.'

Logan grunted as he followed. It frightened you how well he could retain the plans you've gone over so many times this week. It was great for him, and for you! But also sucked, because they guy replacing your 'smart guy' still needed a refresher.

You take your stance beside the large bars hiding the painting. Idly looking around while Logan let out a primal roar as he pried the gap between the metal bars wider.

"I bet that's what it sounds like when you're close, huh?" Wade snickered, pinching the yellow fabric on his hips. You cringed for several reasons. Wade's constant immaturity. And, God's above, Logan's ridiculous outfit.

Honoring the X-men or not, the yellow was as bright as a trafficlight.

You slipped through the widened gap now, ignoring Wade's whistle behind you. "You do realize this is supposed to be a silent mission?" You sneered, now on the other side of the enclosure.

Wade shrugged. "Don't worry, peaches. Nothing bad ever happens to the sexy ones. Logan might get left behind, but you and me?" His mask hid the way he bit his lip and winked. It looked like he was just staring at you.

"Alright." You sighed and moved on. That was the best way to handle these two. They gave you no other choice. I mean, you could give in and fuck them, but you were planning to save that for later if they did a good job tonight.

With the painting carefully removed, the bars bent back in place, and Wade managing to keep his pants on for a few minutes, all that was left to do was leave. You had Logan carry the painting as you all ran back to the World War 1 exhibit - the way you entered through.

You made sure the two were in front of you the entire time. You couldn't risk them getting lost, their bulk and dead brains might break something if you weren't watching them carefully. And the red and blue lights glowing as you ran past were not any help.

You stopped dead in your tracks. That wasn't your normal bisexual lighting. There were no sirens, either.

You jogged back a few paces, stopping by the archway of one of the many halls in the museum. Face to face with the digital glow of a blue and red mask.

"Hey Spider," Grinning softly, you leaned on the doorway. The Spider-Man hung upside-down on his red wire webs, per usual. You didn't need to see his sexy face to see that stoic pout he always wore.

"Good evening." He greets in that deep voice, hinting with an accent you loved. The red outlines of his eyes squinting as you boop his nose. "Are we really going to do this tonight?" He scowls, and you swoon.

He flips down, landing on his feet. Broad shoulders and thin waist beautifully extenuated by the suit that was more code than fabric. Towering over you, red blades on the back of his forearms.

"At least take your mask off," You taunt. To which he does. When has Miguel ever denied that request? As infuriating as it was, it was also a very freeing day when the two of you finally put the suits aside and fu- talked. In bed.

His brown curls looked neat today. Dark red eyes watching your every move. That pout on his sharp angled face was too cute. He was so grumpy all the time.

He glances behind you, leaning over slightly to look at the damage you've done. "Portrait of Madame X?" He notes the missing piece of work. Thick brow arching in suspicion.

You shrug. "She's an idol of mine." An idol worth 20 million to your buyer. But he didn't need to worry his pretty little head about the details.

"Do you want a 10 second head start?" He offers, placing a hand by your head and leaning in. Keeping you between his hard chest and the wall. His lips parted with a slight smirk.

"Bub, where'd you go?" Logan's gruff voice grows closer. Wade skipping alongside him. Both of them stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of Miguel.

His mask quickly ripples into place and he steps back, snarling. "Who are you?" His eyes dart to the painting you were supposed to be stealing, in some other man's hold. Keeping his body towards and more in between to block you from the other two, he snarls.

"I am soaking wet right now." Wade groans softly, admiring this little stand off. He wasn't kidding, Spider-Man had been in his 'hit' list for a few years now.

Miguel bristles, back going tense. And as great of a view that was, you knew it meant trouble.

"No, they're with me." Grabbing his broad and beefy shoulder, you push him back. Accidentally putting yourself in the middle of this odd triangle you've created.

Miguel glowers at you. "My regulars were out. I needed an extra hand." You shrug it off. That's all they were. Extra hands. In a heist. You totally weren't going to make out with them on the car ride home.

Tension thick, your shoulders weigh down as you look at all three of the men. A tinge of embarrassment hits you as you realize how similar their figures looked. You definitely had a type.

Wade breaks it up, or attempts to with another sentence you don't exactly understand. "Jesus, if the writer would get over themselves, I would fuck you two so hard." He gestures to Logan and Miguel. Earning an angry grunt from both of them that just seems to further his excitement.

"I'm so pissed we have to wait for a part two."

"Part two? Of what?" You raise a brow, looking at Wade.

He waves a hand. They don't get it.

...

But you do. And if you want a part two, please let me know! This was just an idea festering (that got out of hand a little) and I'm not sure what to make with it just yet. I also need a title for this, so if you guys have any suggestions, please let me know. Love you!