#password hacker program

[crazy-hazy-sims]

Hey everyone it seems there a malicious individual trying to hack the sims cc community again and fill it with malware you need to stay vigilant as a creator and a downloader so

i have some tips for both to stay safe while downloading:

1- sims cc file extension is always .Package never download anything that is .exe

2- do not auto unpack zip files and rar files into your mods folder directly, open each zip or rar individually check the file extensions and drag them to your mods folder one by one

3- the only mods that have a .ts4script extension are ones that affect gameplay or how the game works, understand that if you are downloading cas or bb items you shouldn't have a .ts4script file

4- if you are downloading gameplay mods that do have .ts4script make sure that A) the creator hasn't announced on their pages that its infected B) you are downloading from a link provided by the creator of the mods themselves not something off of google or a link you got sent and make sure dates of upload match dated of announcements

5- if the mod or cc creator has retired and hasn't posted for a while LOOK AT THE DATES OF THE UPLOAD if it has been "updated recently" after the creator has left the community its most likely re-uploaded by a hacker and infected

6- download mod gaurd by Twisted mexi and keep it updated and keep your windows defender or malware detector Program up to date and always running do not disable it

7- make sure everything you download comes from a direct link from the cc creator, in this day and age do not trust link shortners, adfly, linkverse, etc get the universal bypass extension and ublock extension to stay safe but genuinely NEVER CLICK ON THOSE no matter how much the creator reassures you its safe it. is. NOT.

8- this is more of a general saftey precaution but, create a system restore point weekly before you run the game with new mods that way if anything happens you could have a chance to restore your windows to an earlier date before you downloaded anything.

9- BACK UP YOUR SHIT im serious right now either weekly or monthly put your files somewhere safe like a usb a storage card a hard drive even an online cloud if you dont have any of the previous.

10- files you should back up are your media from games and media everything else, any mods, games saves, work files, passwords, saved bookmarks, any documents txt files word files pdfs, links you saved, brushes or actions for Photoshop if you have any, any digital bills or certificates if you have any, and keep a physical list of all programs you have installed and where you installed them from

11- turn on any 2 factor authentication and security measures for any account you have

12- google and firefox have the option to check your paswords and emails against any data leaks USE THIS FEATURE and change any leaked passwords

13- regularly check your logged in sessions to make sure all the logged in devices or computers are yours and log out any that aren't and any old devices or unused sessions do this for every website and app you have an account on if available

14- change your passwords often. I know this is a hassle i know its hard to come up with new passwords but changing your passwords every few months will help you against anything mention previously that wasn't detected.

15- and as a cc creator check your cc and the accounts you host cc on and its uplaod and update dates make sure nothing has been changed without your permission :(

16- generally try not to get swept up in the "i must get it" fever you do not need to "shop" for mods weekly or monthly you do not need to download everything by that one creator you do not need to download new cc everytime you want to make a sim, im guilty of this so i know how hard it is to resist but take a breath and think "do i want this or do i need it" before downloading.

These are prevention methods i cant claim they are 100% will prevent any hacking but its better to be safe than sorry and these do keep you safe so

Brought to you by someone who has had their laptop ruined and data leaked from downloading cc once upon a time

[joetastic2739]

Someone accessed my Gmail 2 days ago, compromising my linked accounts like Twitter and YouTube. Here's how it happened, why I fell for it, and what you can learn to avoid making the same mistake:

The scam I fell victim to was a cookie hijack. The hacker used malicious software to steal my browser cookies (stuff like autofill, auto sign in, etc), allowing them to sign in to my Gmail and other accounts, completely bypassing my 2FA and other security protocols.

A few days ago, I received a DM from @Rachael_Borrows, who claimed to be a manager at @Duolingo. The account seemed legitimate. It was verified, created in 2019, and had over 1k followers, consistent with other managers I’d seen at the time n I even did a Google search of this person and didnt find anything suspicious.

She claimed that @Duolingo wanted me to create a promo video, which got me excited and managed to get my guard down. After discussing I was asked to sign a contract and at app(.)fastsigndocu(.)com. If you see this link, ITS A SCAM! Do NOT download ANY files from this site.

Unfortunately, I downloaded a file from the website, and it downloaded without triggering any firewall or antivirus warnings. Thinking it was just a PDF, I opened it. The moment I did, my console and Google Chrome flashed. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. I immediately did an antivirus scan and these were some of the programs it found that were added to my PC without me knowing:

The thing about cookie hijacking is that it completely bypasses 2FA which should have been my strongest line of defense. I was immediately signed out of all my accounts and within a minute, they changed everything: passwords, 2FA, phone, recovery emails, backup codes, etc.

I tried all methods but hit dead ends trying to recover them. Thankfully, my Discord wasn’t connected, so I alerted everyone I knew there. I also had an alternate account, @JLCmapping, managed by a friend, which I used to immediately inform @/TeamYouTube about the situation

Meanwhile, the hackers turned my YouTube channel into a crypto channel and used my Twitter account to spam hundreds of messages, trying to use my image and reputation to scam more victims

Thankfully, YouTube responded quickly and terminated the channel. Within 48 hours, they locked the hacker out of my Gmail and restored my access. They also helped me recover my channel, which has been renamed to JoetasticOfficial since Joetastic_ was no longer available.

Since then, I’ve taken several steps to secure my accounts and prevent this from happening again. This has been a wake-up call to me, and now I am more cautious around people online. I hope sharing it helps others avoid falling victim to similar attacks. (End)

(side note) Around this time, people also started to impersonate me on TikTok and YouTube. With my accounts terminated, anyone searching for "Joetastic" would only find the imposter's profiles. I’m unsure whether they are connected or if it’s just an unfortunate coincidence, but it made the situation even more stressful.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ignorantia Neminem Excusat

(Ignorance excuses no one, lat.)

"Commissioner."

Jim Gordon doesn't jump. They are years and years into this rodeo, he's stopped actually jumping at Batman's silent approach a long time ago. Yet, Bruce still notices the way his shoulders twitch just the tiniest bit, and his hand makes an aborted motion to his gun holster. Still got it.

The man turns around. Bruce can see the 'must you always do that?' in his slightly narrowed eyes. He presses his lips tightly together in order to not smirk: Batman doesn't do that, even if it's admittedly funny to see the seasoned Commissioner get spooked every time.

"There's a kid that wants to speak with you."

Bruce frowns. A kid that warranted a BatSignal? Not that he minds, but this is highly unusual for several reasons; however, Jim is not the kind of man that would fall for puppy eyes of any level, so it must be something more important than an autograph session or a victim of any of the recent cases.

Besides, the way Commissioner worded it implies that the kid, whoever they are, requested Batman specifically.

"He is a hacker," Jim puts both his hands in the pockets of his coat — he is either cold or uncomfortable, and Bruce highly suspects it's both. What's more, he starts to understand why. "I'm sure you're aware we were trying to track the person responsible for the few recent cyber attacks on GCPD servers," Jim glances at him, and Bruce nods. He is aware, yes, but the case was low-priority — it wasn't even an attack, really, someone just accessed the system foregoing the passwords and clearance levels, went through a few files, seemingly at random, and did a fairly decent job of hiding their traces. Bruce would have even thought it was Tim, if this happened a few years ago, when the boy was just learning the ropes.

Commissioner sighs and looks away, "But when we brought him in, the boy said he will only speak to you, and none of us have been able to make him say a word since." He pauses, a grim kind of expression on his face, "This was six hours ago."

Bruce is grateful for the way his cowl hides how his eyebrows raise. There are hundreds of scripts officers, detectives, and social workers can use to establish contact. Quite a lot of them could be attempted in the span of six hours.

Whatever the kid wants to tell him, Bruce decides it's worth a try. If not anything else, he can at least admire the sheer stubbornness.

—×—×—×—

The kid sitting in the interrogation room looks... younger than Bruce expected. Fifteen, maybe sixteen. He is dressed like any other homeless kid in Gotham — a hoodie and a jacket over it, jeans that look a size too big on him, sneakers with mismatched shoelaces — but he clearly hasn't been out in the streets for that long. His hair is braided into cornrows, and it looks professional, even if the roots have grown out so now it's just messy. What's more, he is missing that telltale wariness in his posture that Bruce has seen in every other street kid that has been brought into a police station. They always slouch and curl into themselves.

This boy is sitting with his back straight. Yet, there's a tension in his body that Bruce can only associate with a battle stance — give him the slightest reason, and the kid will lunge.

He steps into the room.

The boy — he hadn't given a name, and there wasn't a single ID on him — zeroes on him instantly. His eyes are a very pale, almost translucent green: a rather strange feature for a black-skinned person, genetically speaking, but Bruce doesn't dwell on it. Yet.

But then, the face recognition program comes up empty.

As in, 'there's not a trace of this person's prior existence' empty. Not a single camera footage, no records or reports of missing, no pictures, no social media, nothing. Bruce frowns.

"Hi," the kid says, his voice raspy, "My name is Tucker Foley. According to the government, I don't exist, so if your recognition program doesn't find anything on me, that's why."

Bruce doesn't say anything. Tucker wanted to speak with him, and previously, he was only merely intrigued by that request. However, as of right now, he wants to hear everything the kid has to say before asking any follow-up questions.

Because that always present, cautious and bordering on paranoid voice in the back of his mind tells him he is about to get into something way more serious than he expected.

Tucker moves — he kept both his hands on the table, palms open and visible, but now he closes one into a fist. Although, before Bruce can react to it, he opens it again. A small, the size of a flash-drive, dimly glowing green object rests inside.

"Do you know what this is?" The boy asks. He hasn't looked away from Batman's face once; Bruce is not even sure he blinked at all since he entered the room. Come to think of it, even with his tense, rigid posture, Tucker is too still, almost unnervingly so.

Bruce glances down to the boy's hand.

"Yes," he answers curtly, and there it is, the smallest shift in Tucker's face: he clenches his jaw like he's trying to hold the words inside his mouth. Bruce doesn't like it.

"What is it?" Comes the next question, but it's not curiosity that prompts it. It's a test of some sort. Bruce likes that even less.

"A power source," he decides on a neutral answer, not entirely certain what the boy is expecting to hear.

It seems to be a wrong answer because for the first time, Tucker's emotions slip from under his mask, and he takes a sharp breath in, looking like Bruce had just slapped him across the face. It lasts only a moment — Tucker closes his eyes for a moment, slowly exhales, and speaks again, calm and focused once more.

"And what exactly powers it?"

It's an important question, judging by the desperate, searching look in Tucker's eyes. His hands are not shaking, and there are no visible signs of distress, but for some reason, Bruce just knows that the boy's whole life seems to depend on the answer.

But.

"It's classified." Bruce doesn't take his eyes off the boy, but he still fails to see when he gets to his feet; the movement is quicker than the blink of an eye. All he knows is the aftermath of it, the screech of the chair legs on the floor and the loud slam of Tucker's palms on the table.

"Fuck the classified!" The boy yells, his face twisting in an awful mix of anger, hurt and a broken, terrified sort of hopelessness that almost breaks Bruce from the inside. "I need to know what they've told you, I have to- Tell me you think it's just a battery! Tell me you've never broke one to see what's inside, tell me you believe in science! They've showed you the research, didn't they?" Tucker's voice, so agonizingly different from the composed way he was talking before, breaks into a sobbing, almost hysterical laugh. His pale eyes are wide open and almost panicked, searching Batman's face for something he is not sure he can find.

"Tell me you've never seen one being made," this time, the boy doesn't yell, he whispers, his breath hitching and his knuckles white. "Please," he adds a moment later, and Bruce knows this kind of plea.

It's the plea of someone who is begging for the world to have mercy on them. A plea of a boy standing on their parents' grave, a plea of a man kneeled in front of his son's corpse.

Bruce swallows the bitter taste on the back of his tongue and takes a step closer. He sees the boy in front of him lean back and bend his knees, like bracing for impact, but he answers before any more misunderstandings can occur.

"I have seen the research. It provided enough information that I've never investigated further," he offers, and Tucker's shoulders slump like months and months of living in a constant state of fight-or-flight leaving his body all at once. Then, the boy's hands start trembling just slightly.

"Really?" He quietly asks, his eyes still glued to Batman, and there it is, the hesitant, uncertain hint of hope in his voice.

Bruce suddenly feels like not only this talk will be much, much worse than he ever feared, but also like in the end this will be another one of the things he will be blaming himself for. Things he could have prevented if he just tried a little harder.

"Really," he nods, taking a seat opposite from Tucker. "So explain what I've missed."

The boy keeps looking at him for a few more seconds, like trying to x-ray his thoughts for any sign of a lie. But then he blinks — for the first time, maybe — and rubs his face with his palm before all but dropping back in his own seat.

"Okay," he breathes out, evidently trying to collect himself and go back to the strong, focused self, "Okay."

[ part 2 -> ]

[makers-muse]

Cybersecurity in the Digital Age: Ensuring Online Safety for Children

Our children are growing up with technology at their fingertips. They can access a world of information and entertainment within seconds, but this digital wonderland also comes with its own set of dangers. Let's delve into the exciting world of Cybersecurity and discover how we can keep our young ones safe in the vast and sometimes treacherous digital landscape!

Did you know that cybercriminals are getting more sophisticated every day? Gone are the days when a simple password was enough to protect your accounts. Today, hackers use advanced techniques like phishing emails, malware, and ransomware to exploit innocent victims, and children can be particularly vulnerable targets.

With the rise of social media and online gaming, cyberbullying has become a menacing issue that affects countless young lives. The best part is that we have an army of Cybersecurity Experts working tirelessly to protect our little digital citizens. They're like modern-day superheroes, creating child-friendly browsers and ingenious parental control apps to shield our kids from online threats. These tools give us parents the power to keep an eye on their online adventures while still encouraging exploration and learning.

But it's not just about monitoring their online activities; we can also teach them the ways of responsible digital citizenship. It's like moulding young digital warriors who understand the importance of privacy, practice good online etiquette, and think critically about the information they come across.

Oh, and let's not forget that we, as grown-ups, need to lead by example. To ensuring Online Safety for children, like using strong passwords and being cautious about clicking on suspicious links, sends a powerful message to our kids. They learn from our actions, and being responsible digital role models is like handing them a compass to navigate the virtual seas.

As we embrace the wonders of technology, let's not forget that it comes with its own set of challenges. Cybersecurity is a responsibility we all share to protect our children from the potential dangers lurking in the Digital World. 

Let's protect our children online by staying informed, having open conversations, and using effective cybersecurity tools. Together, we can create a brighter future for the next Digital Generation!

[fairyminnie444]

[CONFIDENTIAL]

REALITY HACKER FILES

VOLUME 1

ULTRA LEVEL - RESTRICTED ACCESS

FILE: 001

CODE: I AM

→ Access password to the Creation System.

→ What you affirm to be, the System recognizes and executes.

→ Example: “I AM a millionaire.” Status: Command Accepted.

FILE: 002

CODE: REALITY IS PLASTIC

→ There is no solid matter. Everything is malleable data waiting for a command.

→ You are molding the hologram every second.

FILE: 003

CODE: TIME DOESN’T EXIST

¥→ The only real time is NOW.

→ Past and future are programs running in the loop of your perception.

FILE: 004

CODE: EMOTION IS THE KEYBOARD

→ What you feel commands the source code of reality.

→ Strong emotion = instant execution.

FILE: 005

CODE: OBSERVATION CREATES

→ Attention is vital energy.

→ What you observe, you feed. What you ignore, dissolves.

[█████████████████████] 100%

OFFICIAL SEAL:

█▓▒­░⡷⠂ >>> ＲＥＡＬＩＴＹ ＩＳ ＵＮＤＥＲ ＹＯＵＲ ＣＯＮＴＲＯＬ <<< ⠐⢾░▒▓█

[REALITY HACKER APPROVED]

Authorized Operator: YOU.

[[ ALGORITHM: YOU ARE GOD ]]

[[ COMMAND: MANIFEST ]]

Final Instruction:

“Execute without question. Trust the Code. Your Reality has already been updated.”

[malsmind]

file/information —

hacker!matt desperatly has to find a way to hack into

popular!reader's phone again.

file-warnings: stalking, male and female masturbation

you sat in the cramped lecture hall, the faint hum of the projector overhead mixing with the rustle of notebooks and the occasional cough from someone a few rows back. it was a typical tuesday morning at college—intro to programming, a class you only half-paid attention to because the professor’s monotone voice could put anyone to sleep. your phone buzzed on the desk, screen lighting up with a text from a friend about some party this weekend. you smirked, tapping out a quick reply, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching you from across the room.

matt slouched in his seat near the back, his hoodie pulled low over his forehead, hair spilling out in messy strands. he kind of looked like every other guy to be honest. he didn't dress in any 'weird' or 'nerdy' way, but there was something sharper in the way his blue eyes flicked toward you. he wasn’t just some slacker coasting through college. matt was a hacker, the kind who could dismantle a system in his sleep, and he’d been trying to crack into your phone for weeks. not that he hadn't done it before, he's hacked into your phone and other devices multiple times, but recently, your phone’s security was tighter than usual, probably because apple had sent you a warning when matt wasn't careful enough with hacking into it last time. some custom encryption he couldn’t quite unravel, and it was driving him up the wall.

the reason why exactly it was making him go insane was because last night, when he went to touch himself, knowing after a long day and a night out you'd shower, maybe even find relief in touching yourself as well, he was left needy and frustrated when your phone kept kicking him out. no mater what he did, your phone just wouldn't cooperate.

he chewed the inside of his cheek, spinning a pen between his fingers as he watched you scroll through your screen. he’d tried phishing links, brute-forcing your password, even sniffing the campus wifi for vulnerabilities—nothing worked. it was starting to feel personal, like your phone was taunting him. then, last night, hunched over his laptop in the living room of the house he shared with his brothers, the idea hit him: if he couldn’t hack it, he’d break it. get you a new one. slip in a backdoor before you even turned it on. his lips had curled into a grin at the thought, a little twisted but undeniably clever.

now, he just needed an opening. class ended, and you shoved your stuff into your backpack, slinging it over one shoulder as you headed out. matt followed at a distance, hands in his pockets, blending into the crowd of students spilling into the hall. he caught sight of you by the vending machines, fishing coins out of your jeans to grab a soda. perfect. he ambled over and “accidentally” bumped into you just as you turned around. your phone slipped from your hand, clattering to the tile floor with a sickening crack.

“shit, my bad,” matt muttered, crouching down to pick it up before you could. the screen was shattered, spiderwebs of glass radiating from one corner. he held it out to you, his expression all apologetic, but inside, he was buzzing. “damn, that looks rough. still work?”

you took it from him, frowning as you pressed the power button. nothing. just a dead, black screen. “great,” you sighed, “there goes my whole life.”

“m' sorry..” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “i’ve got an extra one back at my place, though. new model, still in the box. you can have it if you want—save you the hassle of dealing with the repair shop.” his tone was offhand, like it was no big deal, but his pulse ticked up a notch waiting for your answer.

you hesitated, eyeing him for a second. you’d seen matt around—quiet guy, always tinkering with something in the lab—but you didn’t really know him. still, a free phone was a free phone. “yeah, okay,” you said finally. “that’d be awesome, thanks.”

he flashed a lopsided grin, leading you across campus to his place. he dug through a drawer, pulling out a sleek, unopened phone box. “here,” he said, tossing it to you. “all yours.”

you caught it, tearing into the packaging while he leaned against the desk, watching. what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that he’d already cracked it open days ago, slipped in a custom firmware with a remote access trojan buried deep in the system. camera, mic, everything—he’d have it all. you powered it on, the screen glowing to life, and started setting it up, oblivious to the way his fingers twitched slightly, itching to get back to his laptop.

“looks good,” you said, pocketing it. “thanks..”

“nah, don’t worry about it,” he replied, shrugging. “just glad it’s not going to waste.”

you left, and he waited a few minutes before locking the door, rushing up to his room and booting up his rig. the monitor flickered on, lines of code scrolling as he connected to the backdoor he’d planted. your camera feed popped up, grainy at first, then sharpening as you walked into your dorm room across campus. he leaned back in his chair, heart pounding a little harder than he’d admit, watching you toss your bag onto the bed and kick off your shoes. nothing special yet, just you being you, but the thrill was in the control. he could see you whenever he wanted again.

later that night, he couldn’t sleep. the room was dark except for the blue glow of his screen, the hum of his pc fan the only sound. he pulled up the feed again. you were in bed, the soft light of a lamp casting shadows across your walls—posters, a cluttered bookshelf, a half-dead plant in the corner. you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt, hair messy, scrolling through the new phone he’d given you. then, the phone started moving in a way that made him sit up straighter, turning up the volume of his headset. matt saw the expression on your face, hearing the small whimpering noises slipping past your lips, and knew what was going on behind the screen.

he'd been waiting for it all night..

matt’s breath hitched. he shouldn’t—he knew that somewhere in the back of his head—but the line was already blurred, and he was too far gone to care. he unzipped his jeans, hand slipping inside as he watched you shift, the shirt riding up slightly to expose the soft skin of your perfect tits. "shit—" matt hissed, his grip tightened, movements slow at first, eyes locked on the screen. your room smelled like lavender, he imagined from what he'd seen trough your camera so far, from that candle you always burned. he pictured the way you’d gasp if you knew, and just as his thoughts wandered to what your reaction would be if you knew what was going on behind the little screen you held in your hand, you moaned, wet sounds of your fingers working on yourseld echoing. he thought about what those moans would sound like if he was the one pulling them out of you, the thought sending a jolt through him.

the feed stuttered slightly as you picked up your pace, fingering yourself, but matt reloaded the page, keeping you in frame, fresh and in perfect quality. his hand moved faster, rougher, the sound of his breathing filling the silence of his room. "fuuuuck, y/n—"he whimpered pathetically, watching you as you bit your lip, breathing heavily as you tried to hold back your moans, and he groaned low in his throat, imagining the heat between your legs, the wetness clinging to his fingers instead of yours, the slickness he couldn’t see but could guess at. "fuck—fuck—fuck..." matt gasped out, body tensing up as cum hit his knuckles, hot and sticky, as he finished, chest heaving, eyes still glued to you lying there, oblivious, reaching your orgasm in synch to him without even knowing.

he wiped his hand on his shirt, leaned back, and smirked at the screen. “so fuckin' sexy..” he muttered to no one, already thinking about tomorrow, and the day after, and the many more days he'd watch you touch yourself, doing it with you.

@loser41ifee GAVE THE IDEA FOR THIS! (i hope i did a good job cause omg this took me way to long to actually start writing.)

series link

taglist

—

@backwardshatnick @sturniolosymphony @sturns-mermaid @realzula @courta13 @sturnzzlovee @chrissweetheart @sturniolosymphony @sturniolo1trips @freshsturnzx @sturnslutz @sturrrrnslvt

[mothandpidgeon]

keystrokes (dave york x hacker!f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

rating: E (18+!)

summary: You hacked into Dave Yorks computer and found more secrets than you bargained for.

contents: Non con/dub con, mean!Dave, voyeurism, sex toys, masturbation, mutual masturbation, porn, breaking and entering, violence?, gun, gunplay, choking, morally grey reader, reader is Girl with the Dragon Tattoo coded but not physically described

wc: 3.4k

a/n: So I've been having some ✨writers block ✨ (hence the lack of updates last month) but for some reason, Dave York did a little breaking and entering in my brain and shook it loose. I've been writing a lot of heartfelt romance recently and I think I just needed a little depravity I guess.

Thank you @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for giving this a look and for anyone I shouted at about this idea (looking at you @schnarfer and @toomanytookas but I know there have been others). Dividers by @ saradika-graphics.

You squint in the light of the refrigerator. It’s empty save for some cartons of half-eaten Chinese food and cans of energy drinks. Check the time— half past one. Too late to order in. Guess cold lomein it is. 

The apartment falls back into darkness once you swing the fridge door shut. You’re used to it, the soft glow of your computer monitors illuminating your little space. It’s easy to forget to turn the lights on when you’re focused on your work. Forget to eat. Forget to meet people that aren’t on the other side of a screen. 

You sit down at your desk, legs crossed in your seat, and shovel some food into your mouth. Most nights are like this, lost in your work. It’s never felt like a job, not really. More like a way to do the shit you’ve always done except now you get paid to do it. You’re a subcontractor of a subcontractor, someone far enough away from the government that they can get information while still maintaining plausible deniability. You don’t know who you’re working for and most of the time your assignments are vague. All you have to do is gather intelligence and put it into a neat little report without mentioning the methods you used to get it. 

You’ve always enjoyed uncovering people’s secrets, reading notes over your classmates shoulders, looking through the search history on friends’ computers. That insatiable curiosity is what led you to start hacking. The targets these days aren’t always exciting but at least tonight’s is. 

David York. 

Early 40s, divorced. Ex military. DIA. There’s much more to him than that, though. A little program hidden on his computer lets you track each keystroke he makes. 

You’ve learned all about him. Dave he prefers. There’s a lot that won’t make it into your report— where he shops online (Brooks Brothers), the take out he orders (one large pepperoni from Frankie’s Pizzeria),  the porn he watches (girl on girl). But there’s one thing your bosses will be interested in: Dave York is a contract killer. 

You could’ve ended this project by now. You’ve got plenty in your notes to make your customers happy yet you’re still logging onto his computer. It fascinates you that a man so normal, almost on the borderline of boring, could be so dangerous. 

You shovel some food into your mouth and go drag your mouse over your desk. You’ve been reviewing footage you recorded through his webcam today. A few lines of code and you were able to turn his laptop’s camera on without activating the tally light. He was smart enough to use unique, complicated passwords, two-factor authentication, and encrypted emails but he didn’t take the time to put a sticker over his webcam. 

You’ve found some interesting information this way— listened in on conversations, heard the things he only says into his burner phone. Tonight most of it is just Dave at the keyboard, his tie loosening over time. 

You scrub through the footage, Dave drinking coffee and typing in fast forward punctuated by stretches of his empty home office. Nothing exciting until—

You pause the video when you see it. Lomein hangs from your open mouth. He’s half naked, head thrown back, hand buried in his lap. His dick is engulfed in a big fist, a bead of precum frozen before it rolls over his fingers. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen a mark in a compromising position. In this line of work, you’ve seen all the dark corners of people’s hard drives.  There’s worse than nudes and home made porn out there. Normally— if it’s not illegal, at least— you just scroll by. But Dave, it’s different when it comes to him. For some reason, seeing him in a compromising position has your blood rushing in your ears. He’s a killer. How many people have had the opportunity to see him in such a vulnerable state? 

He’s bare to the waist, his chest so smooth you wonder if he shaves it or if he’s naturally like that. His broad shoulders look perfect to grab onto if you were on top of him. Riding him. 

Of course you notice all of this after taking a good, long look at his cock. A clutch of dark curls trail down his soft belly to where it stands, drooling in his fist. You realize you’re salivating. 

Guilt pokes at you as you move the playhead back. It’s a violation. Then again, you’ve all but eviscerated Dave's privacy. You know exactly how much money is in his bank account, that his daughter Molly has a sleepover this weekend, that he’ll kill innocents.

He’s not a good person. You’re not either. 

You roll back the tape, finding the start of this, and hit play. Dave’s palm traces his bulge through his pajama pants. He’s watching porn, you can hear the over-exaggerated moans through the computer’s tinny speakers. 

It’s not the first time you’ve noticed that Dave is hot. After all, you have access to all of the pictures on his laptop. Including the selfies he takes after his runs, muscles glistening with sweat. He’s a bit clean cut for your tastes but right now, he’s something else altogether– the lust in his brown eyes, the control as he teases himself. You swallow hard. 

It’s a while before he actually takes his dick out of his pajama pants. You remind yourself repeatedly that you can stop, just click away and let him keep this moment to himself but you’re on the edge of your seat, already throbbing. He finally pulls down his waistband and you’re looking at his upright cock again. It’s thick, a flushed vein running up the underside. He squirts lube into his hand from a bottle that’s just out of frame and when he finally lets his fist move down his length, his eyes sink closed, savoring the sensation. 

He touches  himself with a practiced motion, gripping the shaft and pulling upwards, a twist of the wrist so that his palm caresses the tip before squeezing back down the length again. His strokes are agonizingly slow. He’s so methodical, patient, like in everything else you’ve discovered. 

You’re holding your breath, the suspense aching in your core. There’s plenty of time to study him— those full lips parted, muscles in his arm flexing. Every once in a while he grunts and loosens his grip, keeping himself from going over the edge. 

By now, your hand has found its way between your legs. Your fingers trace absentmindedly over the seam in your sleep shorts, already sticky and soaked through. You match Dave’s lazy pace, giving yourself the same pleasure he’s experiencing. 

Without taking your eyes off of the screen, you lean over to the set of drawers beside your desk and pull out your favorite vibrator. You shimmy out of your shorts and panties and drag the toy over your needy clit. 

You moan with him, watching Dave’s toned arm flex up and down. His bottom lip looks so thick, you want to rake your teeth across it. It’s almost grotesque the way his nostrils flare, the rhythmic grunts that leave him as his hand works faster. The muscles in his neck strain and you can tell he’s close. 

You are, too. You swivel your hips against the vibrator, speeding up the thrusts and strengthening its power. Fuck. What would it feel like to have Dave’s mouth on you? His cock in you? 

He can’t hold back any longer. Dave’s eyes squeeze shut and his jaw clenches and he makes a noise more animal than man. The eruption of cum is the last thing you see before you’re sent reeling, moaning out your own desperate cry as you pulse around your vibrator. 

You take deep breaths as you return to earth, hitting the spacebar to pause the video and blinking back to reality. Your heart rate slows and you wipe your hand across your face. That’s enough work for one night. That might be enough Dave for good. Tomorrow you’ll finalize your report and put him out of your mind. 

The vibrator is tossed carelessly onto the desk. You put your panties on but leave your shorts discarded on the floor amongst the rest of your laundry and then you put your computer to sleep. Without the light of the monitors, the room is cloaked in darkness and you drag yourself from your chair a few short paces to the bed. 

It’s still dark when you wake, an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You strain your ears for noise, any sign of what woke you but there’s nothing. Then a creak. Your heart leaps into your throat. Someone’s here, in your apartment. 

You fumble for your backpack in the dim. Somewhere in the bottom there’s a can of pepper spray that you bought for a situation just like this but your hands are trembling and you can’t see a fucking thing. 

A figure appears behind the French door that separates your room from the kitchen and any drowsiness that was lingering evaporates immediately. It’s a man— broad body clothed entirely in black— and in his hand you make out the silhouette of a gun. The room’s too fucking tiny for there to be anywhere decent to hide. There’s no time to think. Your only choice is to brandish your bag as a weapon. He barges in and you swing for his face. 

“Fuck,” he grunts but it merely slows him for a moment, knocking hm off balance and his beanie off of his head. 

You scramble towards the front door but you’re tackled to the ground, wind knocked out of your lungs. As you gasp for air, you’re flipped onto your back and you find yourself face to face with your assailant. Even in the darkness, through your terror and disorientation, you recognize him. 

Dave York glares down at you, his angular face cast in shadows, a menacing snarl on his lips. The muzzle of his silencer is far too close to your face but there’s no shrinking from it with your head against the floor and Dave’s heavy hand on your middle. 

“You and I have a problem,” he growls. “You know why I’m here?”

You shake your head frantically, still barely able to fill your lungs. 

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I know you’re not stupid,” he says. 

He pulls you to your feet as if you weigh nothing and hauls you towards your room. You’re thrown into your desk chair, head still spinning. Dave stands over you and clamps your wrist to the arm rest. 

“You know why you’re spying on me?” he asks, a cold threat in his words. 

You nod. 

“Then you know you don’t want me as your enemy.” You say nothing but a shiver runs down your spine. His eyes are nearly black, reflecting the dull light of the sleeping computer monitors. 

“I want your hard drives. Back ups, too. Everything you’ve got on me,” he demands. 

“Okay,” you manage. “Would you just get that gun out of my face?” 

“Get to it,” he says, and spins your chair so you’re facing the keyboard. 

The monitors come to life and, suddenly, you’re in deeper shit. You try to hit a shortcut on the keys to close the window that’s open but your fingers are trembling so hard, you miss. Dave sees it all. 

Something changes in him— a tightening in his jaw, a flaring of his nostrils— as he sees the evidence of your surveillance. His spent form, blissed out and covered in his own release hovers on screen. Right where you left him. 

Dave’s eyes narrow at the video then slide down to the toy sitting within arms reach and there’s no denying what he can see so plainly. 

He rounds on you with a wild look, flinging the chair back so its wheels hit your bed. 

“You get off on that?” he demands.

Your heart might have actually stopped for a minute.

“Answer me,” he demands.

“I– No,” you lie.

He appraises you with a deep scowl until a wicked grin spreads on his lips. 

“You’re a pretty little thing, huh?” he muses.

He drags the gun across your breast, your nipple hardening beneath the muzzle’s brush. You let out a whimper— out of fear or arousal, you’re not sure. You swear he growls under his breath. 

“You’re trouble though,” he says.

You swallow thickly, your entire body quivering. 

”Show me,” he says, depositing the gun on the desk and thrusting the toy towards you.

”What?” You ask.

”Show me how you touched yourself,” he tells you.

That’s what you thought he was saying. You stare at him dumbly, too shocked to even protest.

“You watched me. Only seems fair,” he says as if this is some bargain you’re cutting with the man holding the gun.  ”Do I have to make you?” 

He leans over you, his hand braced on the back of your chair, and presses the vibrator into the gusset of your panties. Rough and clicked onto the highest setting, you squirm and cry out. You’re already so overstimulated, it’s torture and bliss all at once. Your hips buck against the toy but Dave holds your thigh open.

”Okay! Stop! Fuck!” you whine, wrenching at his wrist until he lets up.

You try to catch your breath.

“Take these off,” he instructs, snapping the elastic of your panties against your waist with a thick finger.

You hiss and glare at him but you have no choice but to obey, sliding them down your legs. Dave watches, his eyes darkening once you’re revealed to him. He swears under his breath.

”Look at that mess,” he says.

Your whole body burns but the hunger in his gaze makes your fear take a back seat. Defiantly, you put your hand out for the vibrator. You open your legs wider so he can get a good look at you. There’s a tick in his jaw that gives you some satisfaction.

The vibrator purrs dully in your palm and you take your time bringing it to your clit. A low, long moan leaves you. You’re swollen but slick and even gentle strokes feel electric in your veins. 

There’s a tent already forming in Dave’s pants. He’s a killer, sure, but right now he’s horny.

Your head falls back as you continue. His gaze devours each part of you— where the toy glistens against you, your nipples rising and falling below your shirt, the crease in your brow as you keen. 

“You’re a filthy girl, huh?” he asks. 

You nod and a smile actually pulls at the corner of your lips. It shouldn’t turn you on so much to jerk off in front of a man that has seemingly no hesitations when it comes to killing you but somehow that fact has arousal mounting faster. Your eyes drift closed as you focus on the heady sensation of the friction on your overworked nerves. 

The sound of a metallic clink and soft zip distracts you from your reverie. When you look at Dave, you find his hand down the front of his pants, knuckles straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs as he tugs at himself.

“Keep going,” he breathes and you realize you’re staring slack-jawed, desire flooding out any remnants of fear left within you. 

After a few blinks, you press the vibrator against your clit again. Your back arches and you give a luxurious sigh for his benefit. His fist tightens, muscles in his neck straining and, fuck, you have to grip the seat of your chair to keep yourself from falling out of it. 

With a grunt, Dave’s pushing his jeans out of the way, freeing his cock so he can work himself in the angles he likes, the same ones you watched through his webcam. The sound of his shallow breaths and slick strokes mix with the rumble of your toy and the creak of your chair as you writhe. It’s absolutely maddening. And then he starts babbling. Saying things like, “You like this, huh?” and “Say my name sweetheart.” You do it, panting out the word to a hum of approval. 

He crowds you and for a moment you prepare yourself for the chance he’s about to shove his dick down your throat. Instead he’s yanking up your shirt, exposing your tits to the cold air in the room. Dave fondles one and then the other, squeezing the tender flesh with a groan. His hand is much softer than you’d expect for a contract killer, his touch almost gentle as he teases your nipples with the pad of his thumb.

Dave’s expression nearly looks pained, a delicious frown over his plump bottom lip. It makes you mewl and your hips jump. 

“You close?” he asks. His voice is ragged. 

A breathless nod is all you can manage. 

“Good girl,” he rasps.

His words are enough to send you over the edge, with a wanton moan. It crashes over you with so much more intensity than the one that came before it. Your spine locks up, thighs shake as you clench around nothing. Your heart hammers in your chest and between your legs and it’s as if the room is spinning. You twitch in aftershocks, completely spent. 

The fog of pleasure has barely lifted when you glance up at Dave, fist still diligently pumping. There’s a fire in his eyes, that untamed excitement. 

“Give me one more,” he commands. 

“Can’t,” you plead. Need still bubbles at your core but your body is so exhausted from adrenaline and exertion, lust and release.

“You better,” he says. 

Dave grinds the vibrator mercilessly against you and you swear aloud. He lets up only for his hand to close around your throat. It’s an unbearable mixture of pleasure and dull ache— the bruising pressure on your clit, the muscles in your thighs taught and burning— underlined by that euphoria. He squeezes around your jaw just hard enough to see stars again. 

“That’s right,” he breathes against your cheek, his nose pressed into your temple.

Another orgasm comes almost immediately, pulsing at your core and squeezing through every fiber of your being. This time, you’re quiet, just a high pitched whine like a hurt animal though you’re anything but. 

Dave groans. You can hear his teeth gritted though your eyes are shut. He swears and his hot release paints your bare chest, thick and sticky. 

Everything stills as you both come down, all loosening muscles and shaky breaths. Dave remains close to you, stroking your cheek. His lips brush your hairline and you notice the smell of his cologne for the first time, something clean and masculine. 

Dread should come now. He’s had his fun, now he can do away with you — yet it doesn’t surface. 

Slowly Dave stands and tucks himself back into his pants. He almost looks ashamed of himself. You pull your shirt down, covering your stained breasts, and watch Dave smooth his hair. 

“So are we good?” you ask. 

“If you do what I said,” he answers. “You’re going to get rid of anything you have against me and you’re going to tell your bosses that all you found was a regular guy.”

“Alright, Dave,” you say. 

He scowls at you like he doesn’t like your tone. “When I say delete everything, I mean everything,” he says, eyes flitting towards the monitor. 

You steal a glance in that direction as well. Dave half naked, still frozen there looking absolutely ruined. 

“Understand?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

“I’m going to know if you don’t because I’ll be watching you. And if you cross me, I’m going to come back here and I won’t be so nice to you next time,” Dave says. 

You wish that threat didn’t make your body light up like a Christmas tree. It’s absolutely reckless. There’s no chance in hell you’re letting go of that piece of treasure and if the consequence is Dave knocking on your door– or letting himself in– that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

It’s as if he knows. Dave scoffs to himself, then fishes his hat off of the floor along with your panties. 

“These are mine now,” he says.

And you’re almost sad to see him go.

comments and reblogs always appreciated! or scream at me in the ask box or dms!

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

[sexhaver]

definitely one of the most difficult moments of my professional career was when i was doing tech support for [REDACTED]'s automated biomed research lab and like. hang on lemme greentext this

>tell them i can fix this issue in half an hour with a remote support session (aka Teamviewer)

>"you want to... control our computers???? over the internet????? like some kind of HACKER???????"

>their IT submits my request to upper management and after two weeks they reluctantly allow me to get remote access to their systems

>by logging into a virtual machine using a 20-digit password and then using a specific program inside of that virtual machine

>while sharing my screen with someone from their IT team the entire time

>finally get remote access to the PC with the issue

>go to open log files to start troubleshooting

>ERROR: User does not have read permissions.

>what the fuck

>ask their IT guy why it's saying that

>"...because we don't want you looking at our stuff, duh?"

>take deep breath before calmly explaining that i need to open files in order to fix their problem

>IT guy submits my request to upper management

>after another week i go through the whole process again but can actually open the log file this time

>cool, it's exactly the issue i thought it was and i know exactly how to solve it

>open the relevant settings file, change a single number, hit Save

>ERROR: User does not have write permissions.

>what the FUCK

>ask IT guy how i'm supposed to fix their system if i can't change literally anything on it

>takes 20 minutes of arguing to get him to admit that maybe i need write access

>he submits the request to upper management

>a week goes by

>upper management denies it

>says i can just verbally tell the IT guy on the call what to type and he'll do it for me

>deep breaths. deep breaths.

>start third remote session

>go to open the relevant .log file in notepad, which isn't the default program it opens with for some reason

>they fucking disabled right clicking

>[REDACTED] has a $118 billion market cap btw

>manage to walk the IT guy through using the command line (which he had never seen before and was scared of) to edit the relevant file

>three weeks go by

>new support ticket in my inbox

>"why didn't your fix fix this completely unrelated issue?"

>they still won't give me write access

>VP of [REDACTED] yells at me in our weekly meeting for taking so long to fix a third unrelated issue they never submitted a ticket for and is also not actually an "issue" but an intended feature of our software that they don't like

>i went to college for this

[madamsnape921]

Phone Help

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

WC: 2557

Warning: f/f smut; I really went out of my comfort zone for this one but I think it turned out okay; my husband deserves a shout out for his help of writing this one: Thank you, Nick!

Tags: @alwaysachorusgirl @beccabarba @storiesofsvu

You had just started your first month at Quantico, not exactly your dream job but it provided a steady income and federal benefits. It was a relief to be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment in the city after your recent relationship ended. However, the agents were a challenge. They were arrogant, thinking they were the ultimate saviors, and their actions reflected that attitude.

“YN?”

As you snap out of your self-absorbed tirade, you notice one of the top members from the Behavioral Analysis Unit standing in front of you, looking just as perplexed as you feel. Why is she here? You wonder to yourself.

“Yes, Agent…?” you look for a nametag.

“Prentiss. Emily Prentiss. I am with the BAU. So, hey. Our normal tech person is not keen on doing our personal phones. She mentioned I should come to the new girl, which I am assuming is you, to help me?”

You despised phone work. Actually, you loathed it. But you knew that earning some brownie points with a senior agent could be beneficial in the future. So, you forced yourself to answer the call and politely responded, "Of course, Agent Prentiss. What can I assist you with?"

“The phone is acting slow and I can’t seem to find any of my files,” she hands you a card. “YN, here is my work number. Call me when you figure it out?”

“Sure. I’ll look at it here and then I’ll see what I can…,” you started. 

I'd rather not use agency time or equipment for this task. The data on my device is personal and I don't want anyone else to have access to it. One of my close friends happens to be a top-notch hacker, so she probably has something lurking around in there.”

Prentiss gave a nod and then exited your office. She walked away with ease, her sensible pantsuit moving smoothly with each step.

After a grueling day at work, you finally reach your apartment. Your fingers are still warm from typing on the keyboards as you touch the doorknob. You step inside and are greeted by your faithful feline companions. "Sorry guys, Mom has to fix a friend's phone."

A friend's phone? That was unexpected, you thought.

You pour yourself a glass of wine and sit down at your computer, confident that this task will not take too much time. All I need to do is scan the phone for any harmful files and reinstall everything. It should be a piece of cake, you think to yourself. After completing the scan and finding everything to be in order, you give Agent Prentiss a call, relieved by the ease of the process.

“Hey, Agent Prentiss, it’s YN. Your phone is finishing up now. If you want to head down I can text you my address.”

“YN, that would be fantastic! Thank you for being so efficient,” Prentiss exclaimed. “I'll be at your residence in 15 minutes.”

“How do you know that?” you asked.

“I’m with the government. I know everything,” Prentiss joked.

After completing the scan, you realize that there is an issue. The program alerts you to the presence of a malicious app on the phone, Calculator PlusPlus. You launch the app and it prompts for a password. Using your own knowledge, you successfully crack the password and let out a triumphant laugh, "Take that, Penelope."

The next thing you see are numerous pictures of nude women, all with the same hair color and style as you. This must be what's taking up all the storage space on the phone, along with all of the data. You panic when you hear a knock at the door.

“YN, it’s Emily. I’m here about my phone,” Prentiss called from the hall.

DOUBLE SHIT. MINIMIZE MINIMIZE MINIMIZE! SHIT it’s frozen. SHITSHITSHIT.

“YN, I thought it was ready,” Prentiss knocked again. 

After hearing a knock at your door, you call out "Coming!" and get up to answer it. You open the door to see Agent Prentiss standing there.

"Hey there, Agent Prentiss. Please come in," you say with a smile, dressed in your comfortable lounge pants and cat mom tank top.

“Please call me Emily, we’re not at work.” You close the door behind her, her in the same suit from work.

“Please sit. Do you want something to drink?” you offer. 

“I’ll have a beer. It’s been hell with the BAU.” She sits on your couch and begins to pet one of your cats. “Beautiful cats, YN!”

“Thanks, they’re my babies,” you smile.

You grab the beer from the fridge and pop it open, handing it to Prentiss. As you both relax and chat about work and other small talk, an hour and a half quickly passes by. Suddenly, you remember something and say, "Oh, your phone! It's in my room. I'll go get it for you."

Upon entering your room, you find the computer still frozen on a picture of a nude woman. The figure resembles you, but not entirely. It's almost like a lower-quality version of yourself. You are immediately jolted by the realization that these intimate images are displayed prominently on your oversized screen.

“Oh, I see you found the Calculator PlusPlus App…,” Prentiss whispered.

“OH MY GOD! I AM SO SORRY. I was trying to find any malicious apps and I cracked this one’s code and…. I wasn’t snooping. I promise,” you apologised.

“I believe you, but you know what this means, right” Prentiss scowled.

“No…,” you said in response.

Prentiss puts her hand on her gun holster, “I’ll have to kill you to keep my secret safe.”

The room fell silent, and Prentiss let out a chuckle. "Just kidding," she said with a smirk. "Just put them back and don't tell anyone. I have a type...smart, dark-haired girls like yourself."

The phone was too easy to fix. Would she… she wouldn’t.

Prentiss gently brushed your hair and whispered, "We can keep another secret just between us, if you'd like." Your face paled as she tenderly kissed your lips. You had never been with a woman before, let alone one as stunning as her. Feeling unsure of yourself, you tentatively kissed her back, unsure of what to do next.

“Do you want to do this, YN?”

You nod your head.

Prentiss continued to kiss you softly. Mostly on the center of your mouth, but then switching to the left and the right sides, keeping you guessing. You felt yourself become weak in the knees. 

“Let’s sit on the bed, YN.”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss.”

You both sat on the bed and continued to kiss. Prentiss’ hands exploring your body. Your mind and your arms begin to open up.

“Good girl, YN. Take off my jacket.”

You obey the orders given to you, carefully removing her jacket and placing it on the chair next to the bedside table. She sits there, still wearing a sleeveless blouse and her gun holster.

“Now take off your top, YN.”

You cautiously remove your top, wondering how she has such control over you. Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air, and the intense energy in the room causes your nipples to harden. Suddenly, a soft yet firm suction envelops your left nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You've had boyfriends do this before, but never a woman. Prentiss continues to knead and suck on your breast while gently stroking your hair, creating an overwhelming sense of bliss.

Prentiss stopped and moved to the other breast. It was just as amazing. However, you where brought out of bliss with a sharp bite. “Ow,” you moaned.

“Pay attention,” Prentiss stated.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you moaned again.

Prentiss finished with that breast and stood up and removed her shirt, bra, and gun holster. “Now you do me,” she smiled.

You attempted to replicate Prentiss’ actions on her, but your efforts fell short. Prentiss chuckled and giggled as you struggled, until you accidentally bit down too hard. She stopped and got up. You panicked.

“Pants off. Now!” Prentiss ordered.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you jumped to your feet and stripped. She stood there and watched you sit back on the bed.

“Lay back.” You did as you were told. “Now don’t cum until I say or I will have to leave. Understand?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you sigh. 

Prentiss flashed a sly smile before sinking to her knees. From this new vantage point, she spotted a drawer slightly open and couldn't help but peek inside. She found a small vibrating wand tucked away and placed it beside her feet. Starting at your thighs, she lavished kisses leading up to your glistening womanhood. You let out a soft moan as she got closer to your sensitive areas. With deft fingers, she parted your lips and exposed you fully to the world. "I bet your ex never did this," she said with a hint of smugness. "And I guarantee it won't be this good with anyone else."

Prentiss pressed her tongue against the sensitive spot above your clit, applying a constant and firm pressure. At the same time, she used her thumbs to press into your lips, causing a rush of sensation to flood through your body. It was a new experience for you, and you couldn't help but gasp in response. With a smile, Prentiss continued her oral exploration, slowly moving down from the flat spot towards your hood. She flicked her tongue gently against your hood, alternating between soft and medium pressure while also pulsing on your opening and lips. Your moans of pleasure grew louder with each movement she made.

“Don’t cum, YN. Don’t be a bad cadet!”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss, I will be a good cadet.” Cadet, where did that come from?!

Prentiss started licking your clit. This licking was a continued game of alternate pressures and circular licking. You hear a vibrator turn on.

SHIT! SHE FOUND MY STASH!

Prentiss moaned. 

“You naked girl, spread out for me, huh?” She did two licks around your clit. “Mmm, who’s wearing the pants, cadet?”

“You are, Agent Prentiss.”

“And who is the naked slut, cadet?”

“I am the naked slut, Agent Prentiss.”

“Who’s in command of this pussy, cadet?” 

“Agent Prentiss is the commander of this pussy.”

Prentiss then takes the vibrator and places it firmly on your clit. You start to buck. You are so close. You don’t want her to leave. Prentiss then takes two fingers and slides them into you, putting sudden and strong pressure on you G-Spot.”

“What do you want, cadet?”

“To cum, Agent Prentiss.”

“You may cum, as long as you ask nicely.”

“May I cum, Agent Prentiss?”

“Nicer.”

“May I please cum, Agent Prentiss?”

With that she presses hard against your clit with the vibrator and your g-spot with her fingers. You quake as a hard, loud, and wet orgasm rolled through you. You feel shaking and the last thing you see before passing out is a smiling Prentiss.

You came to and found Prentiss taking her phone from your computer. She is now fully dressed.

“How long was I out?”

“Thirty seconds or so. I got you a glass of water. It’s on your table. I’m going to leave, wheels up in the morning.”

“If you need any more phone help, let me know.”

“Oh, next time I need phone help I’ll make sure you do all the work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can feel every thrust deep inside you. Each one makes a distinctive thud and shlick sound. Your orgasm is building, getting closer with every movement. You tightly grip onto the strapon as it fills you up. Nothing has ever felt as unyielding and solid as this before. The plug in your backside grinds against the bright red toy, adding to the intense pleasure of being penetrated.

“Come for me, Cadet.” Prentiss demanded.

You feel the grip of orgasm squeeze you tightly and pleasure erupts from within your core. Your body trembles and shivers as a powerful orgasm overcomes you. As it subsides, you take a moment to catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you exclaimed with gratitude.

"Rocking a holster isn't the only thing I'm good at," Prentiss replied with a sly grin on her face.

She gently pulls out your plug and carefully cleans you up with a towel from the bedside table. You thank her with a smile as she helps you stand up and put on a robe. Prentiss starts to get dressed, putting on her panties first before reaching for her pants.

“Why don’t we spend the day together? We can watch a movie?” You suggested.

“YN, we just finished fucking… you don’t need to ask me for a “movie” to watch,” she laughed.

“No really, Emily, stay with me.”

You two have been fucking feverishly and often in a kinky mist of desire and need for a few weeks at this point. Emily was not an odd name to call her, but it was new. You didn’t know if you should call her that or Prentiss.

“Why? We both finished and I’m sure you’re busy today. As am I.” Prentiss declared.

“Actually, it’s Saturday… at 11 am. I’m off today. Aren’t you? Or am I a lunchtime snack?” you smiled.

“You’re definitely satisfying my appetite,” she replied with a coy smile.

I stood up from the bed and handed her a shirt.

“So, we have underwear and shirts covered… I’ll grab some drinks. You can choose the movie.” You suggested.

Prentiss strolled into the living room and switched on Netflix while you headed towards the kitchen. You grabbed her favorite European beer from the fridge, excited for the chance to surprise her. Balancing both beverages in your hands, you made your way back to the couch where Prentiss had already pulled up "Une vie de chat," a French cartoon about a cat.

You sit down and offer her the beer.

“Thank you! This is my favorite beer! It’s only at that one German store downtown. How’d you know?”

“You mentioned it once. I thought it’d be a nice treat,” you smiled.

As the cat's misadventures unfold, you realize that you and Prentiss have gravitated towards each other on the spacious couch. You rest your head on her shoulder as you continue to watch the show together.

As she begins to say, "This is my favorite..." you rest your head on her shoulder. Emily grins and gently kisses the top of your forehead. It's a new experience for both of you, but it feels natural and perfect in that moment. Your stomach flutters with excitement, but it's a pleasant sensation that matches the rhythm of your heart. It's a mix of thrilling and serene feelings all at once.

"Emily, this is really nice," you say with a smile.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, YN. It's been a while since I've felt this relaxed. I could definitely get used to this," she replies, returning the smile.

"I have a proposition for you. In here, I have my Emily and in there..." you start, but she interrupts with a knowing smile.

"...you have Agent," she finished your sentence. You try to hide in her embrace, but she finds you anyway.

"Yes, YN, you can have your Emily out here and your Agent in there," she confirmed, snuggling into you as you both fall asleep watching TV together.

[simplybakugou]

Story Mode 2 | Mystic Academia: Sero Hanta's Route

⋆ PAIRING: hacker!sero x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; slight angst ⋆ WORD COUNT: 547

A/N: back to back written story modes YUUUUPPP. this would’ve been done sooner but i’ve been thriving lately with the eagles winning the super bowl, securing tickets to see beyoncé, and getting numerous snow days from classes LOL HOWEVER i am back to working on this hehe. this part is lightly based off of one of the story mode’s from seven’s route so apologies for the minor angst lol. here's to the last part of day 3!!

NOTE: credits to @eraserhead-transparents for the sero cap

Mystic Academia: Sero Hanta's Route Masterlist

The alarm continued to blare and pierce your ears and you winced slightly. Sero walked towards the door, pulling the electronic pin pad out and rewiring it. He reset the password and he wasn’t going to let anybody else break into the office again. While simultaneously fixing the door, Sero pulled his phone out from his pocket and with a push of a single button on his screen, the alarm ceased immediately.

Just as the alarm stopped, with its remnants still ringing in your ears, you realized how fast your heart was beating. The gravity of the situation hit you in that moment and you felt like you were going to collapse to the floor. Unknown had been targeting M.F.A. for three days straight and had finally targeted the office for who knows the reason. And it seemed as if Sero recognized him, considering the fact that Unknown referred to Sero as “Cellophane.”

A million questions began buzzing in your mind and you finally snapped out of your daze. You looked at Sero who had a blank and unreadable expression on his face. You couldn’t decipher how he was feeling but he just looked… devastated. 

“Should we evacuate? You said there was a bomb that was about to go off,” you asked, your tone full of worry.

Sero snapped his head up, as if he finally broke free from the trance he was in and realized where he was. “Oh, the bomb? I lied to get S–”

Sero stopped speaking immediately, pursing his lips together as if he was about to say something he shouldn’t. “I lied to get… that guy out of here. It was just a fake alarm. There’s no bomb.”

Sero’s sentences felt short and to the point, sounding like a robot that was programmed to say these things. 

Despite not being able to fully grasp the situation, you took notice of Sero's hand that was shaking from how tightly he was gripping his phone. You moved towards him. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

He immediately took a step back, causing you to stop in your tracks. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.” He turned around, looking up to the lofted second floor of the office and he began to ascend up the stairs. 

“I’m going to work on fixing the security system up here. I don’t want you to get hurt so I need to make sure no one else can break into the office again.”

You nodded, watching as he sat by your desk and pulled out a computer from a backpack that you hadn’t noticed previously. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“There’s nothing you can help with,” Sero said curtly in a manner that made you flinch. “Just focus on the party.” 

“O-Okay,” you stuttered due to the harshness in his voice. 

Sero began working immediately, typing away at a speed that you didn’t think was humanly possible. He stopped momentarily. “Don’t tell the others what happened.”

You were taken aback. It seemed like an important and big thing that everyone in the organization should be aware of. Before you could question his decision, Sero shut you down by taking out a pair of headphones and putting them over his ears.

JOIN THE TAGLIST

[beesmygod]

your IP address is useless to any potential hackers, you should store your passwords in password keeper (a program, NOT a real life book lol) instead of your browser. you should install firefox. you should turn off your VPN when you aren't using it just because it can cause more problems than it solves. or leave it on i dont care. don't delete system32. you should turn all of this shit off. this is my wisdom.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday - Introductions

A/N: Entirely written on my phone. Apologies for errors!

A/N2: This chapter is mainly an introduction to the setting and the majority of the characters. It'll be different readers for each character (give or take).

Ok, first day, very important to not make an idiot of yourself. That's been your internal mantra for the entire commute. You've been really hoping it'll help you out today.

You've gotten a ticket to take to IT for your new work laptop but you got lost trying to find your way there. You look around at the signs, trying to figure it out when someone gently coughs to get your attention. Turning you see a tall, lean man with short blondish brown hair and light blue eyes.

"Do you need some help?" His accent and soft tone help soothe your nerves.

"Um..." you hesitate. "I'm, I'm trying to find the IT department?"

His eyes widen as he smiles, "you must be the new hire." You nod and he holds out his hand, "I'm Jonathan, manager of the IT department. I'll show you the way."

He talks as he guides you to the one section of the building you hadn't been to yet.

"Here is our own little corner of the world," Jonathan gestures around the open area. "For a new employee you're going to want to talk to Jake." He points to a young man with spiky hair, glasses and a goatee who's talking on the phone.

"Ain't gonna happen for a while." A large bear of a man with a beard and a bald top, wearing a Lynyrd Skinner shirt steps towards you. "He's helping that little old lady on the third floor that never remembers her password."

"Ah, yes," Jonathan winces. "She is quite the talker." He looks to you and introduces the second man as Syverson. "We both run the department but Sy is better at managing the employees while I'm better at convincing the higher ups to give us a better budget."

"One of th' smoothest talkers I've ever worked with," Sy grins. "As far as your laptop, you wait right here an' I'll go get from Walter. He's our main hardware guy. Then we'll get...hmmm." He looks around as he ponders.

"Johnny is currently mid battle with that hacker he keeps toying with," Jonathan muses. "How is Ransom's mood today?"

Sy snorts, "same as always. Definitely don't wanna scare the lady away." He snaps his fingers, "Rogers!"

A head pops out of a cubicle, "you call?"

"Got a new employee," Sy explains. "Gonna need you to help her get her laptop setup." Sy turns and heads to where you're guessing Walter is with the hardware you'll need.

You turn back to where Steve was situated and almost jump at seeing him so close. He's huge but you didn't hear him at all! The big and tall blonde man's eyes are shining with enthusiasm.

He holds out his hand and you introduce yourself. "It's nice to meet you. Not a lot of new people around here lately. I work with the designs for our internal programs. Me and Bucky," he gestures back to his cubicle, "work together on the UX and accessibility stuff for the external website."

"That's impressive," you nod, practically hypnotized by his eyes. And his muscles, if you're being honest with yourself.

Sy returns and hands Steve the laptop. "Follow me," Steve smiles as he turns. You try your best to fight the urge to ogle his ass. It's your first day and you don't want to already make a fool of yourself! No matter how handsome these guys are.

Steve takes you through the setup. He's incredibly patient and kind. Plus his voice could keep your attention forever. He's going through some of the standard company security stuff when there's a knock. You both turn and you see a burly man with a beanie and a beard so full you almost miss the lip piercing.

"Hey, Curtis. What's up?"

"Bucky's out getting another coffee," Curtis starts. "Need you to tell him I've got the code worked out for the next update and need him to check the legacy compatibility."

"Sure thing," Steve nods and Curtis heads back to whenever he'd been.

"Don't you have an internal communications thing for this?" You're surprised that someone has to intervene in the communication.

Steve chuckles as he pulls out his phone. "Bucky never responds to work stuff while he's out, even just to a cafe. But there's a time crunch on this and I'm the only person he'll actually check his phone for."

"Oh," is all you can say.

Steve finishes his text and gets back to your training. When you're done you thank him for everything and he blushes a little.

"If you want I can help you with the physical setup at your desk?" He almost looks like he's pleading for you to say yes.

"It won't be a problem? I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Not at all," he assures. "Besides, I don't want to be here for the upcoming Bucky and Curtis debate."

You giggle nervously, "ok. And thank you!"

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

Also tagging @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory to test if this post is working!

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

[firespirited]

Hackers 1995:

The computer nerdery is terrible (do watch Halt and Catch Fire if you want a history of computers) however the film does start out with social engineering and blind folder browsing using common passwords before it devolves into throwing viruses at a private server to 'overload' it.

The costuming is impeccable early 90s : well-off rebellious girl in rip curl, genderbending grunge, stretch tees for your futuristic cool guys.

Missing the heap of badly rigged computer junk that makes the room overheat and puts wires everywhere. Also missing in action : scraggly facial hair, terrible posture, the huge levels of racism and homophobia (yep, even coded into the programs).

You all were wrong about Matthew Lilliard as Cereal Killer being transfem... that was gangly white boy with postpunk swag in the 90s. There's a cartoon-cat-girl wearing phone hacker in high-waisted-trousers, leopard print and dancer's body language right there. Wild how the codes changed in the mid 90s, like how Barbie's Ken was sporty and bold then seemingly overnight he was gay if he wore a dash of colour with his suit.

The story and pacing weren't bad, the bad guy had period accurate pickup artist clothes and general vibe. The stakes weren't too silly.

It definitely has the pre-2001 optimism that permeated the web before the patriot act and y2k bug conspiracies. I miss that, a sweet spot between cyberpunk, cheap geek jokes and the hackers-as-villains trend.

It's just fun. Lilliard gets the best comedic lines, Miller is doe eyed and baby faced, Jolie gets to kick off her streak of strong female leads with an adorable pixie cut and lots of sporty ocean blues. Nikon appears late, Phreak and Joey are in jail half the movie so they get less attention which is a shame, I really liked their characters.

Highly recommend watching with the pause and rewind button to look at background costume and set designs for the club. Pretty camp, getting camper with time. The type of film to rewatch with company and quote at eachother.

This film was tailor-made for teen me: it would have landed perfectly: the music is spot on, the tech, the fashion, the sense of community and fun.

[jumpscaregoose]

if u ever have the free time to do so i would love to hear the things you like abt 1980s hacking culture -kenta torture

HI I HAVE FREE TIME NOW I ESCAPED THE TORTURE NEXUS

so the 80s are my favourite era of computer hacking and it's probably. fairly obvious why. despite being a kenta loser I am not a programming loser and like. computer hacking REALLY fell off in cool factor into the 21st century. malware especially

mostly I find the 80s fun to look at because you don't need to understand a bunch of programming and computing stuff to get how the cool bits work. and because everything operated on phone lines there's this really beautiful overlap with phone phreaking (exploring and exploiting phone lines) in a physical-media heavy way

also media! a lot of the tropes we associate with hacking culture today emerged in the 80s (mostly because of wargames)

let's talk about wargames actually wargames is very important.

the protagonist of the film is david lightman, basically the progenitor teen hacker trope. wargames is about this kid accidentally hacking into a government computer running nuclear war simulations and nearly triggering full on armageddon. the actual plot and themes are about the futility of nuclear war but the biggest impact the film had was broadcasting the hacking/phreaking subculture to a mainstream audience and showing what could be done with personal computing

...which meant that when some teens from Milwaukee managed to access a weapons development laboratory using war dialing and weak passwords mere months after the film released the media FREAKED THE FUCK OUT (hiiiiii 414 case hiiiiiiiiii criminology paper topic)

this led to greater discussions around computer crime which led to the computer fraud and abuse act which was used in the criminal conviction of robert tappan morris. aka the guy who wrote the morris worm aka THE quintessential computer worm. when the average person pictures how a virus works they picture something like morris (in fact, so does hackers (1995), which can be pointed to as another codification of teen hacker tropes)

but honestly? my all time favourite thing about this era is the PRIMARY SOURCES

some of the biggest publications from within the community are still archived online and you can read them!

my favourite one of these is phrack, a hacking/phreaking e-zine that's been running since 1985 and is STILL RELEASING ISSUES. there's so much to find in the old issue archives but I'm gonna direct you to issue 7 file 3 to start because it's. you'll understand when you read it

my favourite part of reading old phrack issues or the official phreaker's manual or even random old computer books from my uni library is. they just talk like that. I'd say the kenta mannerisms are closer to these old hacking zines than modern 4chan speak (I checked. for science) (at least from the tls I've read language barrier etc)

I really really recommend poking around those links, just to see. during my descent into madness I've uncovered a couple major public/legal cases like the release of wargames, the 414s, and morris- and you can see how the community reacted and the massive hater energy that was there! it's great!

there's something so timeless about going on the puter and talking about how you were into a thing before it was cool and look at all the filthy casuals taking the heat off the real ones-

oh wait this was about what I like about it

finding a shared interest with my father history major nerd shit. the pre-digital requirements for physical media in computer hacking. timeless nature of haterdom. movie that is good (wargames)

uh idk how to end this. funny text from my father to my mother a year ago

[mariacallous]

Two years ago when “Michael,” an owner of cryptocurrency, contacted Joe Grand to help recover access to about $2 million worth of bitcoin he stored in encrypted format on his computer, Grand turned him down.

Michael, who is based in Europe and asked to remain anonymous, stored the cryptocurrency in a password-protected digital wallet. He generated a password using the RoboForm password manager and stored that password in a file encrypted with a tool called TrueCrypt. At some point, that file got corrupted and Michael lost access to the 20-character password he had generated to secure his 43.6 BTC (worth a total of about €4,000, or $5,300, in 2013). Michael used the RoboForm password manager to generate the password but did not store it in his manager. He worried that someone would hack his computer and obtain the password.

“At [that] time, I was really paranoid with my security,” he laughs.

Grand is a famed hardware hacker who in 2022 helped another crypto wallet owner recover access to $2 million in cryptocurrency he thought he’d lost forever after forgetting the PIN to his Trezor wallet. Since then, dozens of people have contacted Grand to help them recover their treasure. But Grand, known by the hacker handle “Kingpin,” turns down most of them, for various reasons.

Grand is an electrical engineer who began hacking computing hardware at age 10 and in 2008 cohosted the Discovery Channel’s Prototype This show. He now consults with companies that build complex digital systems to help them understand how hardware hackers like him might subvert their systems. He cracked the Trezor wallet in 2022 using complex hardware techniques that forced the USB-style wallet to reveal its password.

But Michael stored his cryptocurrency in a software-based wallet, which meant none of Grand’s hardware skills were relevant this time. He considered brute-forcing Michael’s password—writing a script to automatically guess millions of possible passwords to find the correct one—but determined this wasn’t feasible. He briefly considered that the RoboForm password manager Michael used to generate his password might have a flaw in the way it generated passwords, which would allow him to guess the password more easily. Grand, however, doubted such a flaw existed.

Michael contacted multiple people who specialize in cracking cryptography; they all told him “there’s no chance” of retrieving his money. But last June he approached Grand again, hoping to convince him to help, and this time Grand agreed to give it a try, working with a friend named Bruno in Germany who also hacks digital wallets.

Grand and Bruno spent months reverse engineering the version of the RoboForm program that they thought Michael had used in 2013 and found that the pseudo-random number generator used to generate passwords in that version—and subsequent versions until 2015—did indeed have a significant flaw that made the random number generator not so random. The RoboForm program unwisely tied the random passwords it generated to the date and time on the user’s computer—it determined the computer’s date and time, and then generated passwords that were predictable. If you knew the date and time and other parameters, you could compute any password that would have been generated on a certain date and time in the past.

If Michael knew the day or general time frame in 2013 when he generated it, as well as the parameters he used to generate the password (for example, the number of characters in the password, including lower- and upper-case letters, figures, and special characters), this would narrow the possible password guesses to a manageable number. Then they could hijack the RoboForm function responsible for checking the date and time on a computer and get it to travel back in time, believing the current date was a day in the 2013 time frame when Michael generated his password. RoboForm would then spit out the same passwords it generated on the days in 2013.

There was one problem: Michael couldn’t remember when he created the password.

According to the log on his software wallet, Michael moved bitcoin into his wallet for the first time on April 14, 2013. But he couldn’t remember if he generated the password the same day or some time before or after this. So, looking at the parameters of other passwords he generated using RoboForm, Grand and Bruno configured RoboForm to generate 20-character passwords with upper- and lower-case letters, numbers, and eight special characters from March 1 to April 20, 2013.

It failed to generate the right password. So Grand and Bruno lengthened the time frame from April 20 to June 1, 2013, using the same parameters. Still no luck.

Michael says they kept coming back to him, asking if he was sure about the parameters he’d used. He stuck to his first answer.

“They really annoyed me, because who knows what I did 10 years ago,” he recalls. He found other passwords he generated with RoboForm in 2013, and two of them did not use special characters, so Grand and Bruno adjusted. Last November, they reached out to Michael to set up a meeting in person. “I thought, ‘Oh my God, they will ask me again for the settings.”

Instead, they revealed that they had finally found the correct password—no special characters. It was generated on May 15, 2013, at 4:10:40 pm GMT.

“We ultimately got lucky that our parameters and time range was right. If either of those were wrong, we would have … continued to take guesses/shots in the dark,” Grand says in an email to WIRED. “It would have taken significantly longer to precompute all the possible passwords.”

Grand and Bruno created a video to explain the technical details more thoroughly.

RoboForm, made by US-based Siber Systems, was one of the first password managers on the market, and currently has more than 6 million users worldwide, according to a company report. In 2015, Siber seemed to fix the RoboForm password manager. In a cursory glance, Grand and Bruno couldn’t find any sign that the pseudo-random number generator in the 2015 version used the computer’s time, which makes them think they removed it to fix the flaw, though Grand says they would need to examine it more thoroughly to be certain.

Siber Systems confirmed to WIRED that it did fix the issue with version 7.9.14 of RoboForm, released June 10, 2015, but a spokesperson wouldn’t answer questions about how it did so. In a changelog on the company’s website, it mentions only that Siber programmers made changes to “increase randomness of generated passwords,” but it doesn’t say how they did this. Siber spokesman Simon Davis says that “RoboForm 7 was discontinued in 2017.”

Grand says that, without knowing how Siber fixed the issue, attackers may still be able to regenerate passwords generated by versions of RoboForm released before the fix in 2015. He’s also not sure if current versions contain the problem.

“I'm still not sure I would trust it without knowing how they actually improved the password generation in more recent versions,” he says. “I'm not sure if RoboForm knew how bad this particular weakness was.”

Customers may also still be using passwords that were generated with the early versions of the program before the fix. It doesn’t appear that Siber ever notified customers when it released the fixed version 7.9.14 in 2015 that they should generate new passwords for critical accounts or data. The company didn’t respond to a question about this.

If Siber didn’t inform customers, this would mean that anyone like Michael who used RoboForm to generate passwords prior to 2015—and are still using those passwords—may have vulnerable passwords that hackers can regenerate.

“We know that most people don't change passwords unless they're prompted to do so,” Grand says. “Out of 935 passwords in my password manager (not RoboForm), 220 of them are from 2015 and earlier, and most of them are [for] sites I still use.”

Depending on what the company did to fix the issue in 2015, newer passwords may also be vulnerable.

Last November, Grand and Bruno deducted a percentage of bitcoins from Michael’s account for the work they did, then gave him the password to access the rest. The bitcoin was worth $38,000 per coin at the time. Michael waited until it rose to $62,000 per coin and sold some of it. He now has 30 BTC, now worth $3 million, and is waiting for the value to rise to $100,000 per coin.

Michael says he was lucky that he lost the password years ago because, otherwise, he would have sold off the bitcoin when it was worth $40,000 a coin and missed out on a greater fortune.

“That I lost the password was financially a good thing.”

[aces-come-in-spades]

FROM THE LIBRARY OF AN ACE OF SPADES: CHARACTER MASTERLIST

Please read all of the following information. This covers some basic in-universe mechanics and provides enough background information to interact with the characters, as well as some info on the characters themselves.

BE ADVISED: SEXUAL ASSAULT, SUBSTANCE ABUSE, AND TORTURE ARE DISCUSSED BELOW!

FROM THE LIBRARY OF AN ACE OF SPADES is a series of science fiction novels. Currently, only one book, The Heart of Chicanery, is in the process of being written. The other four books, a novella, and an anthology, are all still in the process of being planned.

The plot of the Library series revolves around a group called Society X (or the Society for short), whose members are able to manipulate technology in a seemingly supernatural manner. Roman Nilsen is one of the members of the Society... until he and his friend Jazz discover a prisoner named Logan, who begins to exploit the true story and motives of the Ten, the elites who control the lives of the Society's members.

Roman's mission is to find Logan's sister and convince her to free her brother from his imprisonment, all while living his daily life and lying to his next door neighbor and best friend, Alan, who he promised to never lie to. Eventually, another group, the Aviates, enter the scene and rescue Alan from a life-or-death situation, while Roman, Jazz, and Logan are all forced to run away and travel from city to city in an attempt to shake off the Society after the Ten learn about Roman and Jazz's attempts to free Logan.

In the Society, powers are programmed at random into microchips inserted into every member of the Society, and are activated when a pair of Society-issued wireless headphones and Society-issued gloves connect to the microchip. Most members do not know about the microchips and are taught that the powers stem from a mutation of DNA that the original members of the Society carried (as all members, with the exception of Roman, are born within the Society). Members are trained for ten years to use their powers, starting when they are eight and finishing when they're eighteen.

There are four power types in the Society: technokinesis, cyberkinesis, cyber-technokinesis, and "select skills."

TECHNOKINESIS is the ability to telepathically manipulate any device powered by electricity or dependent on electrically-controlled devices, such as cell phones, charging cords, or CDs. It's basically an incredibly specialized telekinesis that only works on electric and electric-dependent devices/objects.

CYBERKINESIS is the ability to telepatically operate electrical devices. Imagine operating a phone without ever having to come into physical contact with it. With enough practice, this power also automatically bypasses any passwords and security on a device, turning the user into an unstoppable hacker. The Society's training program allows enough time and training for cyberkinetics to utilize this ability.

CYBER-TECHNOKINESIS is a combination of technokinesis and cyberkinesis. They have both power sets, but are forced to go through extra-intense training in order to be properly skilled at the end of the ten-year training period.

"SELECT SKILLS" are a secondary skill that works separately from the previous powers, but they can't work unless one of the previous powers is present. These powers can be nearly anything, and even the most technically-minded members of the Society struggle to explain how these skills work. Roman can light objects on fire with a touch, Jazz can administer high-voltage shocks, and Logan can trigger illusions and explosions.

ROMAN KEITH NILSEN (#roman keith nilsen)

a paranoid artist with a gift for both lies and keeping quiet. he's incredibly shy and was diagnosed with pyromania when he was fifteen, which causes him to light objects on fire when his stress or anxiety is very high.

he found the society when he was eight. he decided to be difficult and wandered out into the woods alone on a cold snowy night and got very lost before running into the complex (society hq) and accidentally starting a surveillance drone! poor guy.

there's a crackfic college au you should ask him about because there is way more characterization in that.

(he/him, bisexual, pyromania. birthday november 27. cyber-technokinesis.)

likes: cryptids and folklore, lo-fi, painting, hiking hates: liminal spaces, physical combat fun fact: roman has no sleep schedule. like, at all. he's been known to stay up for four days in a row without sleep, consistently.

LOGAN VAILE (#logan vaile)

logan is the grandson of the society's founder, but hates being reminded of this. he shows his disdain for his family's prestige by wholeheartedly embracing every chance to (not in his words) "degrade himself," mostly through heavy drinking and chainsmoking. with his parents and grandparents both dead and his sister taken away, he has no one to rely on but himself, and grief is a hard thing to deal with alone.

after being forced to take on his father's role as a director of all espionage missions at 15 years old, he was locked away for shooting the highest of the Ten for attempting to sexually assault his little sister. now he's trying to seek revenge on the society, all while still being forced to play at a role he never wanted.

(he/him, straight demiromantic asexual, habitual smoker and drinker. birthday march 15. cyber-technokinesis.)

likes: dancing, horror novels, herbal tea, fiction podcasts hates: cramped spaces, fruit-flavored juice drinks fun fact: logan prefers to go by the code name pyre unless he really, really trusts who he's talking to

JASPER "JAZZ" VAN JANSEN (#jazz van jansen)

jazz was born into the society and selected to take a "special program" when he was ten due to a defect in his microchip that gave him the ability to shock people and prevented him from using a standard headset. the "program" turned out to be project nightmare, a streamlined training program designed to create deadly field agents. jazz was subject to a lot of physical and mental torture as part of the program, much to the dismay of the person who was forced to draw up the program for him.

as part of the project, jazz is forced to attend therapy before moving on to the actual training itself. an incarcerated logan is forced to serve as jazz's therapist, which is pretty sadistic, but logan was also forced to draw up the project entirely from scratch (it was that or his sister got killed). jazz sees logan and roman as the only people he can trust.

despite all of this, he manages to keep up a cheerful attitude, although sometimes he seems to act crazy and manic. this is due to the "agent nightmare" persona he was forced to adopt. he also has no clue how life outside the society works, and often says things without knowing the true gravity of the meaning (he calls himself a "terrorist" and an "anarchist" but doesn't know what either of these mean).

(he/him, straight, adhd + ptsd. birthday january 2. cyberkinesis.)

likes: white chocolate, board games, rainy days, getting to see the world/traveling hates: dogs, eyestrain colors fun fact: to designate him as agent nightmare, jazz has a barcode tattoo on the right side of his neck

ALAN HARPER (#alan harper)

alan is roman's next-door neighbor and best friend, but has no clue that the society exists until one new year's eve where jazz manages to escape the society and stumbles upon roman and alan talking on the sidewalk. when alan tags along with roman and jazz to break logan out of his cell, he gets shot in the side and eventually rescued by an enemy of the society known as the aviates, who his parents apparently used to work for

alan is slated (against his will) as a future leader of the aviates due to having an extra-strength microchip stolen from the society in his arm that his parents put in there when he was a baby. this microchip allows alan to use technokinesis without a headset and gloves. he's very pissed about all of this and wants to make sure roman's okay, but the aviates are keeping him close and won't let him go anywhere.

alan likes to know everything about the people he's close to, including any secrets they might be hiding. despite this being seen as very up-in-the-face behavior, he's so kind and charming that people still like him. however, he only has one actual friend: roman, who swore he'd never tell a lie to alan. which, of course, didn't work out.

(he/him, cishet but swore himself to virginity, basically a nerdy-looking normal white boy. birthday august 24. technokinesis.)

likes: physical media, thrift shopping, stargazing, helping people out hates: cilantro, arguments fun fact: alan is, in fact, catholic! (i needed someone i could relate to religion-wise but don't worry, he's a chill catholic)

ALTAIR SANDLER-MCBRIDE (#altair sandler-mcbride)

altair is a member of the aviates. he's mostly there to be a nuisance, but his primary jobs are taking care of the aviates' drones and keeping an eye on alan

he's very much unhinged. and is half jewish and half irish. and has a very strong accent (it's either scottish or irish, i can do it but i have no idea what to classify it as)

(he/they, gay, audhd. birthday december 1)

likes: video games, running, any caffeinated drinks, the aviate drones (he treats them like his siblings) hates: hot weather, golden oreos fun fact: altair has a male white pomeranian named azrael, and he loves the little guy to death

honorable mentions

AUGUSTINE "ACE" VAILE: (he/him, refuses to confirm his sexuality for me) logan's deceased grandfather and the founder of the society

COLLIN CROSS: (he/him, gay) altair's boyfriend

ANNA VAILE/AGENT AURORA: (she/her, straight) logan's sister

KEITO TSUNUKO: (he/him, straight): jazz's former combat instructor and one of logan's former superiors

honorable mentions open for asks

JAMIE WINCHESTER-SOMERSET & ELLIOT ROUSSEAU: characters that technically belong to @gala-xyzz (mod's irl sister) who have both met logan at some point in their lives (#jamie winchester-somerset & #elliot rousseau)

jamie (he/him, claims to be straight) is one of the aviates and is also the scion of a wealthy british family. his grandfather was very close with ace, logan's grandfather, and jamie is desperately trying to learn more about both of them. he spends his time traveling the world and getting chased around by elliot. he's also incredibly sarcastic, even more so than logan is.

elliot (he/him, has declined commenting on his sexuality) is a member of the nexus foundation and is also very much crushing on jamie (jamie doesnt know it yet.... or does he?). he's technically supposed to capture jamie but talks his way out of it by claiming to play a long game that will eventaully result in jamie's capture. he is an annoying perfectionist and prone to being a little hissy bitch.