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Guard Against Financial Frauds as Data Leakage Becomes Rampant: Insights from RBI Officials
In an era where digital transactions and online banking have become the norm, safeguarding financial information has never been more critical. The Reserve Bank of India (RBI) officials recently highlighted the increasing threats of financial fraud due to rampant data leakage. This blog post delves into the nuances of this pressing issue and offers strategies to protect your financial data. The…

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#Cyber-attacks#Cybersecurity#Data leakage#Digital transactions#Encryption methods#Financial data protection#Financial fraud#financial institutions#Identity theft#Incident response plan#Phishing scams#RBI officials#Security audits#Two-factor authentication#Vulnerability assessments
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#best encryption tools#computer security#cybersecurity#data breach prevention#data encryption guide#data privacy#data protection#data safety#data security tips#digital security#encrypting personal information#encryption basics#encryption FAQs#encryption for beginners#encryption software#encryption solutions#encryption techniques#guide to data encryption#how to encrypt data#online privacy#personal data security#prevent cyber attacks#privacy software#protect data online#secure communication#secure data encryption#secure files and folders#secure personal data#software for encryption#strong encryption methods
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Securing Your Website: Best Practices for Web Developers
As the digital landscape continues to evolve, website security has become a paramount concern for businesses and individuals alike. With cyber threats becoming increasingly sophisticated, it is crucial for web developers to adopt robust security measures to safeguard their websites and the sensitive data they handle. In this article, we'll delve into the best practices that web developers can implement to enhance the security of their websites and protect against potential threats.
Introduction
In today's interconnected world, websites serve as the digital storefront for businesses, making them vulnerable targets for cyber attacks. From data breaches to malware infections, the consequences of a security breach can be severe, ranging from financial loss to damage to reputation. Therefore, prioritizing website security is essential for maintaining the trust and confidence of users.
Understanding Website Security
Before diving into best practices, it's crucial to understand the importance of website security and the common threats faced by websites. Website security encompasses measures taken to protect websites from cyber threats and unauthorized access. Common threats include malware infections, phishing attacks, SQL injection, cross-site scripting (XSS), and brute force attacks.
Best Practices for Web Developers
Keeping Software Updated
One of the most fundamental steps in website security is keeping all software, including the content management system (CMS), plugins, and server software, updated with the latest security patches and fixes. Outdated software is often targeted by attackers due to known vulnerabilities that can be exploited.
Implementing HTTPS
Implementing HTTPS (Hypertext Transfer Protocol Secure) encrypts the data transmitted between the website and its users, ensuring confidentiality and integrity. HTTPS not only protects sensitive information but also boosts trust among visitors, as indicated by the padlock icon in the browser's address bar.
Using Strong Authentication Methods
Implementing strong authentication methods, such as multi-factor authentication (MFA) and CAPTCHA, adds an extra layer of security to user accounts. MFA requires users to provide multiple forms of verification, such as a password and a one-time code sent to their mobile device, reducing the risk of unauthorized access.
Securing Against SQL Injection Attacks
SQL injection attacks occur when malicious actors exploit vulnerabilities in web applications to execute arbitrary SQL commands. Web developers can prevent SQL injection attacks by using parameterized queries and input validation to sanitize user inputs effectively.
Protecting Sensitive Data
It's essential to employ encryption techniques to protect sensitive data, such as passwords, credit card information, and personal details, stored on the website's servers. Encrypting data at rest and in transit mitigates the risk of data breaches and unauthorized access.
Regular Security Audits
Conducting regular security audits helps identify vulnerabilities and weaknesses in the website's infrastructure and codebase. Penetration testing, vulnerability scanning, and code reviews enable web developers to proactively address security issues before they are exploited by attackers.
Choosing a Secure Hosting Provider
Selecting a reputable and secure hosting provider is critical for ensuring the overall security of your website. When evaluating hosting providers, consider factors such as security features, reliability, scalability, and customer support.
Evaluating Security Features
Choose a hosting provider that offers robust security features, such as firewalls, intrusion detection systems (IDS), malware scanning, and DDoS protection. These features help protect your website from various cyber threats and ensure continuous uptime.
Ensuring Regular Backups
Regularly backing up your website's data is essential for mitigating the impact of security incidents, such as data breaches or website compromises. Choose a hosting provider that offers automated backup solutions and store backups securely offsite.
Customer Support and Response to Security Incidents
Opt for a hosting provider that provides responsive customer support and has established protocols for handling security incidents. In the event of a security breach or downtime, prompt assistance from the hosting provider can minimize the impact on your website and business operations.
Implementing Firewall Protection
Firewalls act as a barrier between your website and external threats, filtering incoming and outgoing network traffic based on predefined security rules. There are several types of firewalls, including network firewalls, web application firewalls (WAF), and host-based firewalls.
Configuring and Maintaining Firewalls
Properly configuring and maintaining firewalls is crucial for effective security. Define firewall rules based on the principle of least privilege, regularly update firewall configurations to reflect changes in the website's infrastructure, and monitor firewall logs for suspicious activity.
Educating Users about Security
In addition to implementing technical measures, educating users about security best practices is essential for enhancing overall website security. Provide users with resources, such as security guidelines, tips for creating strong passwords, and information about common phishing scams.
Importance of User Awareness
Users play a significant role in maintaining website security, as they are often the targets of social engineering attacks. By raising awareness about potential threats and providing guidance on how to recognize and respond to them, web developers can empower users to stay vigilant online.
Providing Training and Resources
Offer training sessions and educational materials to help users understand the importance of security and how to protect themselves while using the website. Regularly communicate updates and reminders about security practices to reinforce good habits.
Monitoring and Responding to Security Incidents
Despite taking preventive measures, security incidents may still occur. Establishing robust monitoring systems and incident response protocols enables web developers to detect and respond to security threats in a timely manner.
Setting Up Monitoring Tools
Utilize monitoring tools, such as intrusion detection systems (IDS), security information and event management (SIEM) systems, and website monitoring services, to detect abnormal behavior and potential security breaches. Configure alerts to notify you of suspicious activity promptly.
Establishing Incident Response Protocols
Develop comprehensive incident response plans that outline roles, responsibilities, and procedures for responding to security incidents. Establish clear communication channels and escalation paths to coordinate responses effectively and minimize the impact of security breaches.
Securing your website requires a proactive approach that involves implementing a combination of technical measures, choosing a secure hosting provider, educating users about security best practices, and establishing robust monitoring and incident response protocols. By following these best practices, web developers can mitigate the risk of security breaches and safeguard their websites and the sensitive data they handle.
#website security has become a paramount concern for businesses and individuals alike. With cyber threats becoming increasingly sophisticated#it is crucial for web developers to adopt robust security measures to safeguard their websites and the sensitive data they handle. In this#we'll delve into the best practices that web developers can implement to enhance the security of their websites and protect against potenti#Introduction#In today's interconnected world#websites serve as the digital storefront for businesses#making them vulnerable targets for cyber attacks. From data breaches to malware infections#the consequences of a security breach can be severe#ranging from financial loss to damage to reputation. Therefore#prioritizing website security is essential for maintaining the trust and confidence of users.#Understanding Website Security#Before diving into best practices#it's crucial to understand the importance of website security and the common threats faced by websites. Website security encompasses measur#phishing attacks#SQL injection#cross-site scripting (XSS)#and brute force attacks.#Best Practices for Web Developers#Keeping Software Updated#One of the most fundamental steps in website security is keeping all software#including the content management system (CMS)#plugins#and server software#updated with the latest security patches and fixes. Outdated software is often targeted by attackers due to known vulnerabilities that can#Implementing HTTPS#Implementing HTTPS (Hypertext Transfer Protocol Secure) encrypts the data transmitted between the website and its users#ensuring confidentiality and integrity. HTTPS not only protects sensitive information but also boosts trust among visitors#as indicated by the padlock icon in the browser's address bar.#Using Strong Authentication Methods#Implementing strong authentication methods
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"Diplomacy for the Feral and the Damned"
Bruce had just sat down in the Batcave with his second cup of post-patrol coffee—black as his mood, strong enough to keep a Kryptonian awake—when his private line buzzed. Not the Batline. Not the board line. The one buried so deep in encryption and passive-aggressive threats that even Oracle called it “Extra-Paranoid Mode.”
He stared. [Incoming Call: Vladimir Masters]
Bruce blinked. “…Oh, this is going to be a day.”
He answered with the flat monotone that had driven Gotham’s underworld into therapy. “Vlad.”
The holographic screen flickered to life—and there he was. Vladimir Masters, looking every inch the eccentric billionaire and possibly more ghost than man now. Silver-haired, in a robe that screamed “I paid three million for this and regret nothing,” surrounded by classical art, levitating books, and the faint crackle of ectoplasmic interference. The whole aesthetic screamed “If Lex Luthor was haunted by a Victorian novelist.”
Vlad beamed. “Brucie!”
Bruce’s eye twitched. “Don’t call me that.”
“It’s lovely to hear your voice, dear cousin. It’s been too long.”
Jason, eavesdropping from the shadows with popcorn, whispered, “Wait. Cousin? Since when do we have that brand of family drama?”
“Shh,” Tim muttered, scribbling something labeled Possible Interdimensional Ghost Cousins Conspiracy.
“I need your advice,” Vlad continued. “Something very personal. Deeply serious.”
Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What now, Vlad?”
Vlad leaned forward, the screen staticking briefly. “How do you get your children to be civil with you?”
There was silence. Real, echoing, existential silence.
“…I wasn’t aware you had adopted children, Vlad,” Bruce said slowly, like trying not to scare off a rabid raccoon.
“I haven’t. Not technically,” Vlad said breezily. “But my godson is staying with me. Lovely boy. Has the appetite of a black hole and the sense of self-preservation of a rabid badger.”
“...Oh god,” whispered Dick, “he sounds like all of us.”
“Cute that Masters thinks we’re civil,” Damian sniffed. “How charmingly misinformed.”
“Wait. He said godson?” Tim asked, eyes lighting up. “Do you think—could it be—Phantom?”
Vlad didn’t notice the peanut gallery commentary. “The boy has caused four minor diplomatic incidents, bitten a baron, vanished into the ceiling during a formal gala, and accused a senator of being a reptilian. Which turned out to be accurate, but the delivery was unkind.”
Bruce squinted. “That sounds like… Dick, Damian, and Tim at the Wayne Foundation Spring Gala ‘19.”
“I know!” Vlad pointed at him like a man discovering fire. “That’s exactly what I said! He’s like your sons! In one small, glowing, vaguely feral body!”
“Glowing?” Steph mouthed. “Definitely Phantom.”
“So, cousin dearest,” Vlad purred. “How do you get them to listen? How do you parent the chaos incarnate?”
Bruce took a long, tired sip of his coffee and simply said, “I don’t.”
“…You don’t?”
“I survive it.”
“Bold of him to call this survival,” muttered Cass as Jason started texting Alfred for cookies and emotional support.
“Each one is an unpredictable event wrapped in trauma and tactical gear,” Bruce continued flatly. “They will not listen. They may occasionally pretend to. But only after chaos. Much, much chaos.”
Vlad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So there’s no secret Wayne method? No clever strategy?”
“...Cookies?” Bruce offered.
From beneath the desk, something gnawed at Vlad’s ankle.
He glanced down and hissed, “Danny, stop that, I told you we don’t bite family!”
“He said that senator looked like a snake,” came the muffled voice. “And I was right.”
Vlad groaned. “Why couldn’t he just be one kind of disaster? Why all of them?”
Jason grinned. “I like this kid.”
“New cousin,” Steph agreed. “Absolutely chaotic. Ten outta ten.”
Vlad looked back up at Bruce. “So. No help?”
Bruce looked thoughtful. “Keep fire extinguishers on hand. Avoid hosting events near chandeliers. Always assume they have at least two hidden weapons. And get used to being called ‘Dad’ at the most inconvenient political moments.”
A pause.
“Also,” he added, “tell him you’re proud. Even when he’s a disaster. Especially then.”
Vlad blinked. “...That worked for you?”
Bruce glanced around the cave. Steph had stolen Tim’s notes and was writing “FERAL COUSIN CLUB” across the top. Jason was already planning a trip to Amity Park. Damian was silently judging the snack selection of this new relative. And Dick was on his phone already texting Danny memes.
“…Eventually,” Bruce muttered.
“Charming,” Vlad sighed.
From under the desk: crunch.
“Danny! Stop chewing my furniture!”
Danny peeked out, sharp-toothed grin gleaming, eyes flickering green. “Tell B-man I wanna go to one of those galas next time. I wanna meet chandelier boy.”
Jason fist-pumped. “YES.”
Bruce just sighed. “...I’ll warn the staff.”
#dpxdc#jason todd#danny fenton#danny phantom#vlad plasmius#batman#vlad is tired#damian wayne#Danny fenton is a little shit
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Tim Drake, Sleep-Deprived Overlord Extraordinaire (and the Boy Who Grounds Him)
The thing about Tim Drake is that he’s brilliant. The thing about Tim Drake without sleep is that he’s unhinged.
It always starts subtly. A missed night of sleep here, a triple shift there. His words get sharper, his focus becomes razor-edged, and the bats can practically see the neurons in his brain firing like a thousand fireworks.
Then, somewhere around hour 56 of no sleep, Tim crosses the threshold into full-blown megalomania.
He doesn’t just think he’s smart—he knows it. He’ll drop gems like, “Honestly, Gotham’s infrastructure is appalling. If I really wanted to, I could take over the city in 72 hours, tops,” or “Do you think I could reprogram every Bat-computer in the Cave before Bruce notices? Because I can.”
Which—yeah, okay, the family knows he’s capable of it, but it’s terrifying.
When he’s in this state, Tim walks around with the energy of someone who’s cracked the secrets of the universe and is two steps away from becoming a benevolent dictator. His confidence is unsettling. His hyper-awareness is borderline supernatural.
The bats try. Oh, do they try.
“Tim,” Dick says gently, holding out a cup of chamomile tea and a soft blanket. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”
Tim doesn’t even glance at him. “Lying down is for the weak, Dick. Also, you left your phone on the counter. Might wanna grab it before someone texts Kori again.”
Dick freezes. He did leave his phone on the counter, and he can only hope Tim didn't do anything with it (Though his comment definitely says otherwise).
“Tim,” Bruce says, the Big Bat Voice in full swing. “You need to rest.”
Tim smirks, flipping through his tablet. “Rest is for the dead, and I’m not in the mood for ghosts tonight. Also, you forgot to update the encryption on your personal server. Again.”
Even Damian tries, but he gets as far as hurling a batarang at Tim’s leg before Tim dodges it without looking. “Tsk tsk, Damian. You’re getting predictable.”
It’s chaos. It’s exhausting.
Enter Danny Fenton.
Danny’s used to Tim’s shenanigans by now. He’s been around for enough of Tim’s sleep-deprivation arcs to know the signs. The sharp eyes, the slightly-too-bright smile, the way he starts muttering plans for world domination like he’s drafting a grocery list.
Danny lets it slide for a while—Tim in hyper-mode is kind of cute, in a “my boyfriend might accidentally take over the world” way. But then he sees the bags under Tim’s eyes, the way his hands tremble just slightly from over-caffeination, and he knows it’s time to intervene.
Danny doesn’t use tea. He doesn’t try reason. He doesn’t even bother with the blanket method.
Instead, Danny steps into the Cave, tilts his head at Tim, and says, “Honey, can we cuddle?”
Tim freezes.
The bats, who have been subjected to hours of Tim’s unrelenting, untouchable brilliance, watch in shock as their insurmountable sibling folds like a deck of cards.
“I—uh—cuddle?” Tim stammers, blinking like a deer in headlights.
Danny smiles, soft and sweet and just shy of smug. “Yeah, I miss you. Come to bed with me?”
Tim’s resolve crumbles. He’s already pulling off his gauntlets. “Yeah, okay. Just for a bit.”
“A bit,” Danny agrees, but he’s already leading Tim upstairs.
The bats are left standing in the Cave, mouths agape.
Jason’s the first to break the silence. “Did we just get out-maneuvered by Tim’s boyfriend? The guy who hangs out with Harley Quinn for fun?”
Dick snorts. “I mean, are we really surprised? Danny’s been handling Tim better than any of us for years.”
Bruce exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “As long as Tim’s resting, I don’t care how it happened. Danny’s good for him.”
“Yeah,” Jason agrees with a shrug. “Kid’s weird, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. And if he can get Replacement to sleep, I’ll send him a damn fruit basket.”
The bats exchange a rare moment of collective relief.
Upstairs, Danny tucks Tim into bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as Tim curls into him. He doesn’t care about strategies or what the bats think. All that matters is Tim, finally at peace in his arms.
"Sleep well, genius," Danny murmurs, pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. And for the first time in days, Tim does.
#tim drake#danny phantom#danny fenton#brain dead#dead tired#batfam#dc x dp#danny the tim whisperer#how to tame a sleep-deprived vigilante#touch deprived tim is not normal about cuddles at all#sleep deprived tim walks around like he's opened his third eye and knows every wonder of the world
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New Marvin Attack Impacts 25-Year-Old PKCS#1 v1.5 Padding Scheme for RSA Key Exchange
The encryption method, known as PKCS#1 v1.5 padding scheme, was previously thought to be immune to attacks, but a new paper reveals that many software implementations of the scheme are actually vulnerable.
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The Kwok scam only pits the ants
Guo Wengui touted things to the sky all day long, from farms to Xi Yuan, he declared, "Xi Yuan's encryption capabilities and future payments, as well as the future exchange with the US dollar, will create history, is the only stablecoin, floating, modern crypto financial platform." The ant help to fool the head, but after dozens of broken promises, Guo Wengui played a jump god, Tiandry ground branch, Yin and Yang five elements, Qimen Dun Jiqi battle, over and over again to play with the ant help, and Guo Wengui no sense of violation. The old deception hypohypotically called to make comrade-in-arms rich, claimed to be for the benefit of comrade-in-arms, in fact, it is a wave of investment and anal, tried and true, and now again. After the explosion of the Xicin may not be listed, according to normal people's thinking and reaction, must be very annoyed, sad, but Guo Wengui is unusual, talking and laughing, understatement, no stick, but to the camera hand holding pepper sesame chicken to eat with relish, full mouth flow oil! . Why? Because the fraud is successful, as for when the Joy coin will be listed, when will it be listed? Guo Wengui is a face of ruffian and rogue, hands a spread, claiming that they do not know. Guo Wengui hypocrisy a poke is broken, Guo's scam is just a variation of the method of trapping ants help it.
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How to Make Money on Coinbase: A Simple Guide
Coinbase is a leading platform for buying, selling, and managing cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin and Ethereum. With millions of users worldwide, it’s a trusted choice for both beginners and experienced traders. Here’s how you can make money using Coinbase.
Why Use Coinbase?
Coinbase offers:
User-friendly interface: Ideal for newcomers.
Top-notch security: Advanced encryption and offline storage keep your assets safe.
Diverse earning methods: From trading to staking, there are plenty of ways to earn.
Ready to get started? Sign up on Coinbase now and explore all the earning opportunities.
Setting Up Your Coinbase Account
Sign up on Coinbase’s website and provide your details.
Verify your email by clicking the link sent to you.
Complete identity verification by uploading a valid ID.
Navigate the dashboard to track your portfolio, view live prices, and access the "Earn" section.
Ways to Make Money on Coinbase
1. Buying and Selling Cryptocurrencies
Start by buying popular cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin and Ethereum at a lower price and selling them when the price goes up. It’s the basic strategy for making profits through trading.
2. Staking for Passive Income
Staking allows you to earn rewards by holding certain cryptocurrencies. Coins like Ethereum and Algorand offer staking options on Coinbase. It’s a straightforward way to earn passive income.
Maximize your earnings—get started with Coinbase today and start staking your crypto.
3. Earning Interest
Coinbase lets you earn interest on some of your crypto holdings. Just hold these assets in your account, and watch your crypto grow over time.
Advanced Trading with Coinbase Pro
For those with more trading experience, Coinbase Pro provides lower fees and advanced trading tools. Learn how to trade efficiently using features like market charts, limit orders, and stop losses to enhance your profits.
Coinbase Earn: Learn and Earn
With Coinbase Earn, you can earn free cryptocurrency by learning about different projects. Watch educational videos and complete quizzes to receive crypto rewards—an easy way to diversify your holdings with no risk.
Coinbase Affiliate Program
Promote Coinbase using their affiliate program. Share your unique referral link (like this one: Earn commissions with Coinbase), and earn a commission when new users sign up and make their first trade. It’s a fantastic opportunity for bloggers, influencers, or anyone with an audience interested in crypto.
Want to boost your income? Join the Coinbase Affiliate Program now and start earning commissions.
Coinbase Referral Program
You can also invite friends to join Coinbase and both of you can earn bonuses when they complete a qualifying purchase. It’s a win-win situation that requires minimal effort.
Conclusion
Coinbase is an excellent platform for making money in the cryptocurrency world, offering various ways to earn through trading, staking, and affiliate marketing. Explore all its features to maximize your earnings.
Ready to dive in? Sign up today and start earning with Coinbase.
#coinbase#bitcoin#binance#ethereum#bitcoin news#crypto#crypto updates#blockchain#crypto news#make money on coinbase
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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!
#dave york#dave york fic#pedro pascal fic#dave york x f!reader#dave york x hacker!f!reader#equilizer 2#cw: noncon/dubcon
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(419) G1 canon divergence: when he leaves the Decepticons and becomes an Autobot, Skyfire keeps in contact with Starscream.
He feels like they're trying to tell him, "Skyfire. You must now stop caring about your friends. The ambient morality has moved on without you." And he isn't totally naïve, he knows he should absolutely not have the comm line for the Decepticon 2IC on speed dial.
But Skyfire is desperately unused to the war and he can't fix this about himself — everyone else has had millions of years to adjust and he's had a week. He is lonely, cybertronian culture has changed, and he doesn't know the Autobots very well... And, well, he likes Starscream. He doesn't like what he's been doing, obviously, but they were friends, once. Anyway, it's not like he tells him anything important when he calls him — well, okay, a couple of times, perhaps... but only because it was genuinely important to save Starscream's life!
Except... Now Skyfire's been hearing multiple, contradictory versions of battle plans floating around among the Autobots, and strategies are communicated at the last second. Skyfire's not naïve, and he's definitely not stupid: high command is feeling out the Autobot rank and file for a Decepticon spy. The versions of plans upon which the Decepticons act will slowly narrow down the possibilities until it can be revealed precisely who leaked them. This medium-term, methodical strategy has Prowl written all over it.
Part of Skyfire is affronted — he's not actually a Decepticon spy, you know. He's just worried about Starscream specifically.
(What are you talking about? Starscream asks, half-distracted, over the encrypted comm line. Of course you're a Decepticon spy. Starscream, Skyfire thinks, doesn't really get it. (Skyfire, perhaps, doesn't really get it.))
Eventually, Skyfire gives in to temptation, takes the bait, and warns Starscream about a particularly horrible threat. The Decepticons act on his intel and the leak is revealed, resulting in a dangerous and emotionally fraught flight from the Autobot base and Skyfire's shameful re-defection to the Decepticons. Starscream, of course, welcomes him with open arms and a smug little smile...
#tf fic ideas#maccadam#i can have a little a skystar. for a treat.#skystar#skyfire#starscream#sorry this one's so long#your poor dash
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I made a tool that takes an image and visualizes how vulnerabilities in some encryption methods allow patterns to be discerned from it, even after encryption. I find the resulting effects to be very interesting!
if you want to try this yourself, you can download the tool here! https://espimyte.itch.io/eyecrypt
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A quantum state of light has been successfully teleported through more than 30 kilometers (around 18 miles) of fiber optic cable amid a torrent of internet traffic – a feat of engineering once considered impossible. The impressive demonstration by researchers in the US may not help you beam to work to beat the morning traffic, or download your favourite cat videos faster. However, the ability to teleport quantum states through existing infrastructure represents a monumental step towards achieving a quantum-connected computing network, enhanced encryption, or powerful new methods of sensing.
Continue Reading.
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Between the 1980s and the year 2000, it was possible to intercept pirate feeds of satellite signals: not just TV programming (which in the early days was often completely unencrypted, since why bother when so few people had satellite dishes?) but "wild feed" programming - the stream sent to local affiliates and relays. This created a thriving culture of satellite pirates, who would obtain "raw" feeds of sporting events and yet-to-air TV episodes (the latter helping create a nascent culture of fansites posting spoilers online before the episodes aired). Honestly, I don't fully understand the technology here, or why it ended, beyond a switch from analog to digital feeds and a change in encryption
But it was important for politics. An entire documentary, 1995's Spin, was made from pre-air footage of politicians intercepted via satellite. During Clinton's 1992 campaign, he was able to respond to Bush's ads the same day they debuted because - using this and other methods - his campaign would learn about what he was going to say before it was even released & have a response ready to go, or even beat them to the punch
Here is pre-feed satellite footage of Bill Clinton getting ready for a press conference; there were people in the 90s who recorded tons of footage like this
youtube
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Technomancy: The Fusion Of Magick And Technology

Technomancy is a modern magickal practice that blends traditional occultism with technology, treating digital and electronic tools as conduits for energy, intent, and manifestation. It views computers, networks, and even AI as extensions of magickal workings, enabling practitioners to weave spells, conduct divination, and manipulate digital reality through intention and programming.
Core Principles of Technomancy
• Energy in Technology – Just as crystals and herbs carry energy, so do electronic devices, circuits, and digital spaces.
• Code as Sigils – Programming languages can function as modern sigils, embedding intent into digital systems.
• Information as Magick – Data, algorithms, and network manipulation serve as powerful tools for shaping reality.
• Cyber-Spiritual Connection – The internet can act as an astral realm, a collective unconscious where digital entities, egregores, and thought-forms exist.
Technomantic Tools & Practices
Here are some methods commonly utilized in technomancy. Keep in mind, however, that like the internet itself, technomancy is full of untapped potential and mystery. Take the time to really explore the possibilities.
Digital Sigil Crafting
• Instead of drawing sigils on paper, create them using design software or ASCII art.
• Hide them in code, encrypt them in images, or upload them onto decentralized networks for long-term energy storage.
• Activate them by sharing online, embedding them in file metadata, or charging them with intention.
Algorithmic Spellcasting
• Use hashtags and search engine manipulation to spread energy and intent.
• Program bots or scripts that perform repetitive, symbolic tasks in alignment with your goals.
• Employ AI as a magickal assistant to generate sigils, divine meaning, or create thought-forms.

Digital Divination
• Utilize random number generators, AI chatbots, or procedural algorithms for prophecy and guidance.
• Perform digital bibliomancy by using search engines, shuffle functions, or Wikipedia’s “random article” feature.
• Use tarot or rune apps, but enhance them with personal energy by consecrating your device.
Technomantic Servitors & Egregores
• Create digital spirits, also called cyber servitors, to automate tasks, offer guidance, or serve as protectors.
• House them in AI chatbots, coded programs, or persistent internet entities like Twitter bots.
• Feed them with interactions, data input, or periodic updates to keep them strong.
The Internet as an Astral Plane
• Consider forums, wikis, and hidden parts of the web as realms where thought-forms and entities reside.
• Use VR and AR to create sacred spaces, temples, or digital altars.
• Engage in online rituals with other practitioners, synchronizing intent across the world.
Video-game Mechanics & Design
• Use in-game spells, rituals, and sigils that reflect real-world magickal practices.
• Implement a lunar cycle or planetary influences that affect gameplay (e.g., stronger spells during a Full Moon).
• Include divination tools like tarot cards, runes, or pendulums that give randomized yet meaningful responses.

Narrative & World-Building
• Create lore based on historical and modern magickal traditions, including witches, covens, and spirits.
• Include moral and ethical decisions related to magic use, reinforcing themes of balance and intent.
• Introduce NPCs or AI-guided entities that act as guides, mentors, or deities.
Virtual Rituals & Online Covens
• Design multiplayer or single-player rituals where players can collaborate in spellcasting.
• Implement altars or digital sacred spaces where users can meditate, leave offerings, or interact with spirits.
• Create augmented reality (AR) or virtual reality (VR) experiences that mimic real-world magickal practices.
Advanced Technomancy
The fusion of technology and magick is inevitable because both are fundamentally about shaping reality through will and intent. As humanity advances, our tools evolve alongside our spiritual practices, creating new ways to harness energy, manifest desires, and interact with unseen forces. Technology expands the reach and power of magick, while magick brings intention and meaning to the rapidly evolving digital landscape. As virtual reality, AI, and quantum computing continue to develop, the boundaries between the mystical and the technological will blur even further, proving that magick is not antiquated—it is adaptive, limitless, and inherently woven into human progress.

Cybersecurity & Warding
• Protect your digital presence as you would your home: use firewalls, encryption, and protective sigils in file metadata.
• Employ mirror spells in code to reflect negative energy or hacking attempts.
• Set up automated alerts as magickal wards, detecting and warning against digital threats.
Quantum & Chaos Magic in Technomancy
• Use quantum randomness (like random.org) in divination for pure chance-based outcomes.
• Implement chaos magick principles by using memes, viral content, or trend manipulation to manifest desired changes.
AI & Machine Learning as Oracles
• Use AI chatbots (eg GPT-based tools) as divination tools, asking for symbolic or metaphorical insights.
• Train AI models on occult texts to create personalized grimoires or channeled knowledge.
• Invoke "digital deities" formed from collective online energies, memes, or data streams.
Ethical Considerations in Technomancy
• Be mindful of digital karma—what you send out into the internet has a way of coming back.
• Respect privacy and ethical hacking principles; manipulation should align with your moral code.
• Use technomancy responsibly, balancing technological integration with real-world spiritual grounding.
As technology evolves, so will technomancy. With AI, VR, and blockchain shaping new realities, magick continues to find expression in digital spaces. Whether you are coding spells, summoning cyber servitors, or using algorithms to divine the future, technomancy offers limitless possibilities for modern witches, occultists, and digital mystics alike.

"Magick is technology we have yet to fully understand—why not merge the two?"
#tech witch#technomancy#technology#magick#chaos magick#witchcraft#witch#witchblr#witch community#spellwork#spellcasting#spells#spell#sigil work#sigil witch#sigil#servitor#egregore#divination#quantum computing#tech#internet#video games#ai#vr#artificial intelligence#virtual reality#eclectic witch#eclectic#pagan
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Updated Personal Infosec Post
Been awhile since I've had one of these posts part deus: but I figure with all that's going on in the world it's time to make another one and get some stuff out there for people. A lot of the information I'm going to go over you can find here:
https://www.privacyguides.org/en/tools/
So if you'd like to just click the link and ignore the rest of the post that's fine, I strongly recommend checking out the Privacy Guides. Browsers: There's a number to go with but for this post going forward I'm going to recommend Firefox. I know that the Privacy Guides lists Brave and Safari as possible options but Brave is Chrome based now and Safari has ties to Apple. Mullvad is also an option but that's for your more experienced users so I'll leave that up to them to work out. Browser Extensions:
uBlock Origin: content blocker that blocks ads, trackers, and fingerprinting scripts. Notable for being the only ad blocker that still works on Youtube.
Privacy Badger: Content blocker that specifically blocks trackers and fingerprinting scripts. This one will catch things that uBlock doesn't catch but does not work for ads.
Facebook Container: "but I don't have facebook" you might say. Doesn't matter, Meta/Facebook still has trackers out there in EVERYTHING and this containerizes them off away from everything else.
Bitwarden: Password vaulting software, don't trust the password saving features of your browsers, this has multiple layers of security to prevent your passwords from being stolen.
ClearURLs: Allows you to copy and paste URL's without any trackers attached to them.
VPN: Note: VPN software doesn't make you anonymous, no matter what your favorite youtuber tells you, but it does make it harder for your data to be tracked and it makes it less open for whatever public network you're presently connected to.
Mozilla VPN: If you get the annual subscription it's ~$60/year and it comes with an extension that you can install into Firefox.
Mullvad VPN: Is a fast and inexpensive VPN with a serious focus on transparency and security. They have been in operation since 2009. Mullvad is based in Sweden and offers a 30-day money-back guarantee for payment methods that allow it.
Email Provider: Note: By now you've probably realized that Gmail, Outlook, and basically all of the major "free" e-mail service providers are scraping your e-mail data to use for ad data. There are more secure services that can get you away from that but if you'd like the same storage levels you have on Gmail/Ol utlook.com you'll need to pay.
Tuta: Secure, end-to-end encrypted, been around a very long time, and offers a free option up to 1gb.
Mailbox.org: Is an email service with a focus on being secure, ad-free, and privately powered by 100% eco-friendly energy. They have been in operation since 2014. Mailbox.org is based in Berlin, Germany. Accounts start with up to 2GB storage, which can be upgraded as needed.
Email Client:
Thunderbird: a free, open-source, cross-platform email, newsgroup, news feed, and chat (XMPP, IRC, Matrix) client developed by the Thunderbird community, and previously by the Mozilla Foundation.
FairMail (Android Only): minimal, open-source email app which uses open standards (IMAP, SMTP, OpenPGP), has several out of the box privacy features, and minimizes data and battery usage.
Cloud Storage:
Tresorit: Encrypted cloud storage owned by the national postal service of Switzerland. Received MULTIPLE awards for their security stats.
Peergos: decentralized and open-source, allows for you to set up your own cloud storage, but will require a certain level of expertise.
Microsoft Office Replacements:
LibreOffice: free and open-source, updates regularly, and has the majority of the same functions as base level Microsoft Office.
OnlyOffice: cloud-based, free
FreeOffice: Personal licenses are free, probably the closest to a fully office suite replacement.
Chat Clients: Note: As you've heard SMS and even WhatsApp and some other popular chat clients are basically open season right now. These are a couple of options to replace those. Note2: Signal has had some reports of security flaws, the service it was built on was originally built for the US Government, and it is based within the CONUS thus is susceptible to US subpoenas. Take that as you will.
Signal: Provides IM and calling securely and encrypted, has multiple layers of data hardening to prevent intrusion and exfil of data.
Molly (Android OS only): Alternative client to Signal. Routes communications through the TOR Network.
Briar: Encrypted IM client that connects to other clients through the TOR Network, can also chat via wifi or bluetooth.
SimpleX: Truly anonymous account creation, fully encrypted end to end, available for Android and iOS.
Now for the last bit, I know that the majority of people are on Windows or macOS, but if you can get on Linux I would strongly recommend it. pop_OS, Ubuntu, and Mint are super easy distros to use and install. They all have very easy to follow instructions on how to install them on your PC and if you'd like to just test them out all you need is a thumb drive to boot off of to run in demo mode. For more secure distributions for the more advanced users the options are: Whonix, Tails (Live USB only), and Qubes OS.
On a personal note I use Arch Linux, but I WOULD NOT recommend this be anyone's first distro as it requires at least a base level understanding of Linux and liberal use of the Arch Linux Wiki. If you game through Steam their Proton emulator in compatibility mode works wonders, I'm presently playing a major studio game that released in 2024 with no Linux support on it and once I got my drivers installed it's looked great. There are some learning curves to get around, but the benefit of the Linux community is that there's always people out there willing to help. I hope some of this information helps you and look out for yourself, it's starting to look scarier than normal out there.
#infosec#personal information#personal infosec#info sec#firefox#mullvad#vpn#vpn service#linux#linux tails#pop_os#ubuntu#linux mint#long post#whonix#qubes os#arch linux
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Sweeter Than Honey | Part Two: Mistakes
Mob Boss!Spencer Agnew x FBI!Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: You were sent undercover to infiltrate the world of the most dangerous mob boss on the FBI’s list, Spencer Agnew. But the more you find out about him, the more you lose yourself.
Warnings: Mature themes that include emotional manipulation, psychological tension, dubious consent, morally grey relationships, violence, organized crime, and mild language.
Part 1, Part 2
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Part Two: Mistakes
Every step you take toward him should feel like progress. So why does it feel like falling?
You were in.
Officially.
On paper, you were an independent contractor overseeing “transport solutions” for Agnew Holdings LLC, one of Spencer’s polished, legitimate fronts. A boutique logistics consultancy based in Manhattan, the kind of place Fortune 500 executives smiled at in boardrooms, unaware that a criminal empire thrived under the polished glass.
In practice, you were stepping deeper into a world where everything glittered, but nothing was clean.
The office was a minimalist dream: brushed steel, matte glass, and expensive silence. Modern art hung from the walls, but it was the kind you forgot the moment you looked away. Every surface gleamed like a mirror, daring you to find a fingerprint.
You sat at a sleek desk near the operations floor, pretending to focus on mock manifests for overseas shipments. Most employees worked silently, hunched over laptops and quarterly reports, but you could feel the tension that undercut the place, a quiet hum of watchfulness, as if the walls themselves were wired for sound.
You worked hard to look busy. You already knew every file by heart, the FBI had given them to you.
Now, you just had to act like you’d built them yourself. The routes, the customs paperwork, and the legal loopholes. All of it a polished lie.
Every twenty minutes or so, a man in a discreet black suit would walk past your door. They never spoke. They didn’t have to.
Security at Agnew Holdings wasn't there to make anyone feel safe. They were there to remind you that you weren’t.
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It had been two weeks since your meeting with Spencer. You hadn’t seen him since.
You told yourself that was a good thing. You told yourself that meant you were doing your job.
But every day he stayed silent, some part of you wound tighter.
You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d forgotten you. Spencer Agnew wasn’t the kind of man who forgot.
He was the kind of man who waited.
And Alex Tran made sure you didn’t forget that either.
He didn’t speak to you after that first brutal vetting. Not the second day. Not the third. Or the fourth. Not even after a week.
But you felt him.
Watching.
Every call you answered. Every file you adjusted. Every key you pressed.
It was a ghostly pressure between your shoulder blades, an invisible thread pulled taut and trembling.
You gathered information carefully, methodically. Files you shouldn’t have had access to. Internal codes slipped between meeting minutes. Logistics anomalies disguised as clerical errors.
Every night, you loaded new scraps of intel onto an encrypted flash drive hidden inside the seam of your briefcase. Every night, you debated whether you'd be caught the next morning.
Because Alex Tran wasn't watching you like he suspected something. He was watching you like he was waiting for you to prove it.
By the start of your third week the tension broke.
You were reviewing a set of international cargo routes at your desk when the shadows shifted.
You didn’t hear him approach. You just felt him standing behind you, silent as a blade being drawn.
"Come with me," Alex said, his voice low and unreadable.
You stood smoothly, careful not to show hesitation, and followed him down the gleaming corridor. The deeper into the building he led you, the more polished glass gave way to raw, blackened steel. Security keypads replaced doorknobs. Cameras blinked like patient red eyes.
The door he opened wasn’t marked, there was no window. Inside there was a private conference room, empty except for one chair.
You sat.
Alex stood.
“You’re under review,” he said flatly.
You crossed one leg over the other, casual. “By you?”
A flicker of something, maybe amusement, crossed his face.
"No."
A pause, deliberate.
"By him."
Your chest tightened, but you didn’t let it show.
“Should I be nervous?” you asked, voice light.
Alex stepped closer, close enough that you could see the faint scars along his knuckles.
“You should be perfect.”
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The review wasn’t a conversation.
It was a trap.
That afternoon you received a shipment file routed directly to your terminal.
Urgent. Sensitive. High-value electronics scheduled for midnight pickup at a secondary dock.
At first glance, it looked routine. Until it didn’t.
The truck manifests were incomplete. The shipping codes were off by a single digit. One container had an internal flag you didn’t recognize.
It was too messy to be accidental. It wasn’t an oversight. It was bait.
You didn’t call attention to it. You had a choice to make.
If you flagged it for review, you’d look paranoid, or worse, incompetent. If you ignored it, you risked walking into a fabricated "mistake" that could get people killed.
Either way, you’d lose. Unless you rewrote the game.
You stayed late into the night, creating a new transit schedule.
You rerouted the trucks to avoid compromised areas, sending them to much quieter and safer zones. You created new manifests with a digital footprint that looked weeks old. You spoofed confirmation calls from fake dispatchers.
You covered the holes they had left like a seamstress repairing a perfect counterfeit suit. You wrapped the whole thing in so much plausible deniability, it looked like it had always been right.
By the time dawn broke over Manhattan’s skyline, the shipment was clean, intact, and impossible to trace back to you.
No alarms. No deaths. No failures.
Exactly the outcome you were trained to deliver.
But you didn’t celebrate. You knew better.
Because Alex Tran was already watching from the shadows of the operations floor, arms crossed, face unreadable.
And somewhere, maybe even already reading your file, Spencer Agnew knew too.
You survived the test. But survival wasn't victory. It was just the next move on a board you were only beginning to understand.
And if the last few weeks had been about earning your place, the next would be about keeping it. While pretending not to notice how the walls were already starting to close in.
--------------------------------------------------------
That night, Spencer requested a meeting.
Private. No details. No Excuses.
You were simply told to be there.
You prepared carefully but not obviously by choosing a tailored black dress, sharp heels, and a watch that looked expensive but wasn’t. Professional enough to blend in. Subtle enough not to look like armor.
Still, it felt like armor.
Because walking into Spencer Agnew’s penthouse felt like walking into the lair of something ancient and patient.
His office was nothing like the sterile precision of Agnew Holdings.
It was old-world luxury: dark wood paneling, vintage maps framed in burnished gold, velvet armchairs worn smooth at the arms, heavy leather-bound books filling floor-to-ceiling shelves. A low fire burned in a marble hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the Persian rugs.
Everything smelled faintly of smoke, leather, and something richer underneath; amber, sandalwood, the kind of scent that stayed on your skin long after you left.
You arrived exactly five minutes early. He was already there.
Spencer stood near the massive window, a glass of amber liquor in hand, his shirt sleeves rolled up, tie loose and forgotten around his neck.
The city stretched out behind him, skyscrapers gleaming like the teeth of some sleeping monster. The lights painted shifting patterns across his profile, jaw shadowed, hair curling rebelliously against his temples, gaze unreadable.
He didn’t turn when you entered.
"You handled the test," he said, voice low, almost thoughtful.
You didn’t pretend not to know what he meant.
"I handle a lot of things," you said smoothly, stepping further into the room.
Now he turned.
Slowly. Deliberately.
His gaze swept over you, not admiring, not possessive, just…thorough. Like he was cataloging you. Assessing not the surface, but the seams beneath it.
Yet somehow, it still felt devastatingly intimate.
"Most people fold under pressure," he said. "Or they posture. Pretend they're smarter than they are."
You lifted your chin slightly. "And I did neither?"
He stepped closer, his glass catching the firelight.
"You adapted," he said simply.
The silence that settled between you wasn’t awkward. It was something heavier. Denser. The kind of silence that asked questions neither of you were ready to answer.
You felt the air stretch taut, charged with something that had nothing to do with power and everything to do with proximity.
Spencer studied you. Not the way a man admires a woman, but the way a hunter respects the prey clever enough to set its own traps.
"You’re not like the others," he said, voice dipping lower.
You gave a soft, practiced smile. "I’ve heard that before."
"But do you believe it?" he asked.
You didn’t answer.
Because the truth was dangerous. And you weren’t entirely sure which version of you he was speaking to anymore. The operative? The persona? Or something more raw underneath?
He stepped closer again. Too close. Close enough that you caught the scent of his cologne, layered over skin and expensive whiskey.
Close enough that you felt the subtle, electric pull between you. A thread stretched tight, daring either of you to cut it or tie it tighter.
Your breath caught, just for a second. But you didn’t step back. And he didn’t push forward.
He simply looked at you, really looked at you, and for one suspended moment, it felt like the entire city fell away.
"You’re dangerous," he said quietly.
The words should have been an accusation. But they sounded almost like a compliment.
And for a terrifying second, standing there with your heartbeat too loud in your ears, you weren’t sure which of you he meant.
You didn’t break eye contact.
You didn’t breathe.
You didn’t move.
Finally, Spencer gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d decided something you weren’t privy to.
"Welcome to the real game," he said.
And just like that, the moment broke. He turned back toward the window, lifting his glass again. Dismissed, without ever actually dismissing you.
You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and stepped back toward the door, your heels silent against the thick carpet.
You told yourself the rush of adrenaline in your veins was just nerves. Just the high of getting closer to the mark.
You told yourself it meant nothing.
But your hands were trembling slightly when you closed the door behind you.
And you didn’t know if you were running away from him-
-or yourself.
--------------------------------------------------------
You made the call to Marlowe from the back stairwell of your apartment building.
It was nearly midnight. The city buzzed faintly below, but up here it was cold, quiet, forgotten.
You leaned against the chipped brick wall, burner phone pressed to your ear, the concrete under your heels still holding the heat of the day.
Marlowe answered on the second ring, voice rough and immediate.
“You’re doing well,” she said, skipping any pleasantries, the connection crackling with static over the burner phone. “We’ve got intel suggesting he’s moving something heavy soon. Guns. Bodies. We’re not sure yet. We need details.”
“I’ll get them.” you said. But something in your gut twisted, slow and delicate. There was a pause, just long enough to feel deliberate, before Marlowe spoke again.
"You're getting close," she said. "Maybe closer than you should."
You didn’t answer.
Marlowe’s voice sharpened, cutting through the cold.
"Keep your head clear," she said. "He’s not your ally. Not your confidant. And sure as hell not your..."
She trailed off, the word left unsaid, heavy between you. She didn’t need to say it. You both heard it anyway.
"He's your mark," she finished.
The reminder landed with a dull, familiar weight.
You swallowed.
"I know," you said.
There was another long silence.
Marlowe’s voice dropped lower. Softer. Almost pitying.
"Do you?" she asked.
Not accusing.
Just... tired. Like she’d seen this before. Too many agents thinking they were the exception. Too many agents who forgot which lies belonged to them.
You closed your eyes. You didn’t answer.
You hung up instead, the line cutting to dead air.
For a long moment, you stayed there, phone cooling in your hand, breathing in the faint smell of rain and asphalt and something metallic beneath it.
The words echoed anyway.
He’s your mark.
You repeated it silently. Over and over.
Until it sounded like the lie it was becoming.
--------------------------------------------------------
Your progress wasn’t loud, it was made in careful, patient inches.
You worked your way into the transport operations the way water wore down stone, silent, persistent, inevitable.
It started with small tasks. Internal schedules. Double-checking manifests. Confirming carrier licenses. Quiet things no one wanted to bother with.
You did them all without complaint.
You smiled at the right people. Listened more than you spoke. Made yourself invaluable without making yourself noticeable.
By the end of your first three months, no one questioned why Elise Hawthorne’s name was on the logistics rosters. No one blinked when you started making small adjustments to transport routes, optimizing loads, sidestepping random inspections.
You became necessary.
And that was when the real opportunities began.
First came the observation runs.
"You’ve been good on paper," the Operations Director said one afternoon, dropping a sealed file onto your desk with a grunt. "Let’s see how you are on the ground."
You nodded crisply, hiding the flicker of satisfaction curling through your chest.
Two days later, you found yourself in a sleek black SUV, bouncing down the battered side streets of the industrial district. Clipboards, cargo checks, and cold-eyed men packed into the schedule ahead of you.
Alex Tran was waiting by the first truck. The first time you had seen him that month, but not the first time you had been aware of his watchful eyes.
Dressed down in tactical black, gun at his hip, gaze cold enough to freeze asphalt.
"You’ll stay close," he said without greeting.
You nodded once, matching his pace as he led you through the inspection.
He didn’t speak much. He didn’t have to.
Every once in a while, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, not with curiosity. With calculation.
As if he were trying to solve an equation where none of the variables added up. You were confusing him, he was starting to trust you. Something that he didn’t do. And it was making him angry.
You played your part during the operations perfectly.
Professional. Precise. Helpful but not pushy.
You caught a forged manifest within ten minutes at the first handoff. Quietly corrected a load discrepancy at the second. Smoothed over a bristling argument between two drivers at the third.
You didn’t flinch when weapons were checked, or when they were pulled on you. You didn’t ask questions when the crates were heavier than declared, just waved them through.
You just did your job.
And Alex saw it. He didn’t say it. But you saw it in the way his mouth tightened. The way he stopped hovering quite so closely.
It was a start.
At the end of your fourth month with Angew Holdings, you found something waiting for you on your desk.
No note. No signature.
Just a small, velvet-lined box.
You checked it for traps first. Reflex.
Inside was a slim, understated silver pen. Heavy, expensive, engraved with your initials. Subtle. Professional. Perfectly you.
Then you found it. Tucked beneath the satin lining, almost invisible, a single slip of fine cream cardstock. Three words, handwritten in black ink:
Good work. -S
Your throat tightened. Not from sentiment. From something more dangerous.
Approval from Spencer Agnew wasn’t a gift.
It was an invitation. And a warning.
You tucked the card and the pen away carefully, heartbeat steady.
When you looked up, Alex was standing across the operations floor, watching you.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
His disapproval was written in every taut line of his body. Your carefully built trust with him now broken into fragments.
Approval from Spencer had marked you.
And Alex didn’t trust anything that wore Spencer’s attention like a medal.
Over the next week, you were no longer just shadowing ground operations, you were organizing them. Setting schedules. Signing off on manifests. Escorting high-value shipments through the last stages of transfer.
You weren’t at the center of Agnew Holdings. Not yet. But you were in the bloodstream now. Moving through the arteries of a machine built on steel and blood and secrets.
And it was working.
Marlowe’s encrypted updates came in cautiously optimistic.
You were getting closer. You were gaining trust. You were setting the stage for the bigger moves ahead.
But under the careful victories, something gnawed at the back of your mind.
A slow, quiet awareness.
That every step deeper you moved into Spencer Agnew’s world was a step further away from the version of yourself you still pretended to be.
--------------------------------------------------------
Halfway through your fifth month, everything went sideways.
It should have been routine.
You were shadowing a simple exchange, paperwork, handoffs, signatures, the kind you could almost sleepwalk through by now. Two trucks. Six men. A quiet warehouse by the docks, thick with salt and diesel fumes.
The only strange thing had been Spencer himself.
He insisted on overseeing it personally. No explanation. No warning.
Unusual for him, the man who built distance into an art form.
Still, you played your part. Smiled. Nodded. Blended.
Until you stepped out of the car and realized something was wrong.
It was too quiet.
No seagulls screaming over the water. No radios buzzing from the port authority checkpoint. No distant thrum of trucks or container lifts.
Dead silence.
The hair on the back of your neck prickled just seconds before the first shot shattered the air.
Gunfire ripped down from the rusted catwalks above, sharp and sudden, turning the night into chaos.
Screams.
Scrambling boots on concrete.
The metallic clatter of weapons drawn in panic.
Chaos.
You dropped behind the nearest crate, pulling the gun Alex had insisted you carry. The cold metal bit into the flesh of your hands.
You weren’t supposed to use it, hadn’t even planned on it. You weren’t supposed to even look like you could. Your FBI training would give you away in half a heartbeat.
But then your eyes found Spencer.
He wasn’t ducking. He wasn’t even moving for cover.
He stood in the open, calm, almost... curious. Like he was trying to read the pattern inside the chaos.
You opened your mouth to shout just as you saw it. The glint of a rifle barrel overhead, trained directly on him.
"Spencer!" you yelled, voice cracking through the gunfire.
He turned toward you, just a fraction, just enough.
And you moved without thinking.
The gun rose.
Your hand was steady even though your heart wasn’t.
One shot.
The man on the catwalk jerked backward, arms flailing like a broken marionette, before he fell in a sickening echo of boots and steel.
For one suspended second, the world held its breath.
Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, not in shock, not in anger.
In recognition.
Spencer looked at you. Really looked at you.
Something electric and terrible passed between you.
And then someone yanked him back toward cover, and the world exploded again.
More shots. More shouting. You ran, heart hammering, the metallic taste of adrenaline burning your throat.
You survived. You all survived.
The clean-up took hours.
The shooters were hired freelancers, dead ends. No fingerprints, no ties, no convenient stories. The docks were re-secured. The shipment was intact, whatever it was. You didn’t ask.
You sat on the edge of a battered shipping crate outside the warehouse, the night air cool against your sweat-soaked skin.
Your hand was still trembling.
Not from fear. From something worse.
From the memory of Spencer’s eyes when he realized what you had done.
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.
You told yourself it was instinct.
You told yourself it was to preserve your cover.
You lied.
He found you there, sometime past three in the morning.
Spencer emerged from the warehouse like a ghost. His shirt bloodstained, sleeves pushed back, jacket slung over one shoulder, hair damp with sweat. None of the blood was his.
He moved differently now. Looser. Rougher around the edges. The king’s crown was crooked.
His armor had cracks. Maybe you had put them there.
He crossed the cracked concrete without a word and stopped in front of you. You didn’t look up immediately. You didn’t trust yourself to.
"You saved my life," he said quietly.
You exhaled a shaky breath and forced your gaze upward.
Spencer’s face was shadowed, half-lit by the distant floodlights. He looked at you like he was seeing something new, something he hadn’t known to look for until now.
"I thought you didn’t trust new people," you said, voice soft and hoarse.
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"I don’t," he said.
He crouched in front of you, folding himself into your space without hesitation, without asking.
"But maybe I should."
His hand brushed against yours, not quite taking it, not quite letting it go.
Your heart slammed against your ribs so hard it hurt.
It was a simple touch. It should have been meaningless.
But it wasn’t.
You could feel it, the possibility coiled between your skin and his, warm and treacherous.
Spencer searched your face like he was hunting for the real answer beneath all the careful lies.
"Why’d you do it?" he asked.
Your throat tightened.
For a second, just a second, you almost told the truth.
Because you didn’t want to see him fall. Because you didn’t want to lose the way he looked at you. Because some reckless, traitorous part of you didn’t want to be his enemy anymore.
But you didn’t say any of that.
You didn’t say anything at all.
You just met his eyes, steady, practiced, and let the lie sit heavy between you.
For the mission. For your cover. For survival.
But you couldn’t tell Spencer any of it. Of the truth or the lies.
You took a deep breath, letting the corner of your mouth tug into a wry, careless smile. Your own armor.
"Can’t afford to lose the most lucrative job I’ve had in a while," you said lightly, voice dry.
A joke. A shield. A plausible excuse.
Spencer didn’t laugh.
He just looked at you, long enough and deep enough that the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding twisted painfully inside your chest.
He knew.
He knew you were lying.
But he didn’t call you on it. He just nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and stood.
The moment between you snapped like a brittle thread pulled too tight. Without another word, he walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the warehouse. His footsteps fading, swallowed up by the stillness of the night.
You sat there alone, frozen for a moment longer. Your body thrumming with the aftershocks of adrenaline, denial, and something far more dangerous humming just beneath your skin. Your heart pounding against your ribs like it was trying to tell you something you didn’t want to hear.
Then a faint shift in the air. The subtle scrape of a boot on concrete.
You looked up.
Alex stood in the doorway, half-shrouded in the dim light spilling from the floodlights outside. Arms crossed. Face unreadable.
But his eyes- Sharp. Cold. Alive with something simmering just beneath the surface.
He had been watching.
For how long, you didn’t know. Long enough. Long enough to see too much.
You straightened slowly, slipping the gun you had used back into the hidden holster inside your jacket. Every movement careful. Measured. Controlled.
Alex didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
He just watched you with that same ruthless precision, like a man weighing whether to pull the trigger or wait for a cleaner shot.
"You were sloppy," he said finally, voice low and flat.
You let out a breath you hoped sounded steadier than you felt.
"No one else noticed," you said.
His mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. Something sharper.
"He did."
It wasn’t a question.
It was a statement of fact.
You said nothing.
Alex pushed off the doorframe and crossed the space between you in three slow steps.
He didn’t get in your face. He didn’t have to. His presence alone pressed down like a weight.
"You’re here to do a job," Alex said quietly. "Not catch bullets for him."
"I was protecting the shipment," you said, evenly. Another lie to add to your long list. But it was not as clean as you wanted it to be. Not clean enough for Alex.
He tilted his head slightly, studying you.
"You keep telling yourself that," he said. "Maybe you’ll even believe it."
The words landed like a bullet between your eyes. Fast, deep, deliberate.
You lifted your chin, refusing to flinch.
"Is that a warning?" you asked.
Alex’s eyes narrowed, just slightly.
"No," he said. "Not yet."
And then he turned and walked away, vanishing into the shadows with the same silent efficiency he'd arrived with. Leaving you alone with the gun at your hip, the blood on your hands, and the gnawing certainty that it wasn’t just the mission slipping out of your control anymore.
--------------------------------------------------------
Tag List: @tenderhornynihilist
#spencer agnew x reader#spencer agnew#smosh#smosh fanfiction#smosh fic#smosh x reader#mob boss#mob boss au#fbi#alex tran#secret agent#smosh games
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