#hacker would hack the machine

[diseaseriddencube]

[romerona]

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government���s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part I

This was never supposed to happen. Your role in this operation was simple—deliver the program, ensure it reached the right hands, and let the professionals handle the breaching.

And then, of course, reality decided to light that plan on fire.

The program—codenamed Ethera—was yours. You built it from scratch with encryption so advanced that even the most elite cyber operatives couldn’t crack it without your input. A next-generation adaptive, self-learning decryption software, an intrusion system designed to override and manipulate high-security military networks, Ethera was intended to be both a weapon and a shield, capable of infiltrating enemy systems while protecting your own from counterattacks in real-time. A ghost in the machine. A digital predator. A weapon in the form of pure code. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could disable fleets, and ground aircraft, and turn classified intelligence into an open book. Governments would kill for it. Nations could fall because of it.

Not that you ever meant to, of course. It started as a little experimental security measure program, something to protect high-level data from cyberattacks, not become the ultimate hacking tool. But innovation has a funny way of attracting the wrong kind of attention, and before you knew it, Ethera had become one, if not the most classified, high-risk program in modern times. Tier One asset or so the Secret Service called it.

It was too powerful, too dangerous—so secret that only a select few even knew of its existence, and even fewer could comprehend how it worked.

And therein lay the problem. You were the only person who could properly operate it.

Which was so unfair.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be your problem. You were just the creator, the brain behind the code, the one who spent way too many sleepless nights debugging this monstrosity. Your job was supposed to end at development. But no. Now, because of some bureaucratic nonsense and the fact that no one else could run it without accidentally bricking an entire system, you had been promoted—scratch that, forcibly conscripted—into field duty.

And your mission? To install it in an enemy satellite.

A literal, orbiting, high-security, military-grade satellite, may you add.

God. Why? Why was your country always at war with others? Why couldn’t world leaders just, you know, go to therapy like normal people? Why did everything have to escalate to international cyber warfare?

Which is how you ended up here.

At Top Gun. The last place in the world you wanted to be.

You weren’t built for this. You thrive in sipping coffee in a cosy little office and handling cyber threats from a safe, grounded location. You weren’t meant to be standing in the halls of an elite fighter pilot training program, surrounded by the best aviators in the world—people who thought breaking the sound barrier was a casual Wednesday.

It wasn’t the high-tech cyberwarfare department of the Pentagon, nor some dimly lit black ops facility where hackers in hoodies clacked away at keyboards. No. It was Top Gun. A place where pilots use G-forces like a personal amusement park ride.

You weren’t a soldier, you weren’t a spy, you got queasy in elevators, you got dizzy when you stood too fast, hell, you weren’t even good at keeping your phone screen from cracking.

... And now you were sweating.

You swallowed hard as Admiral Solomon "Warlock" Bates led you through the halls of the naval base, your heels clacking on the polished floors as you wiped your forehead. You're nervous, too damn nervous and this damned weather did not help.

"Relax, Miss," Warlock muttered in that calm, authoritative way of his. "They're just pilots."

Just pilots.

Right. And a nuclear warhead was just a firework.

And now, somehow, you were supposed to explain—loosely explain, because God help you, the full details were above even their clearance level—how Ethera, your elegant, lethal, unstoppable digital masterpiece, was about to be injected into an enemy satellite as part of a classified mission.

This was going to be a disaster.

You had barely made it through the doors of the briefing room when you felt it—every single eye in the room locking onto you.

It wasn’t just the number of them that got you, it was the intensity. These were Top Gun pilots, the best of the best, and they radiated the kind of confidence you could only dream of having. Meanwhile, you felt like a stray kitten wandering into a lion’s den.

Your hands tightened around the tablet clutched to your chest. It was your lifeline, holding every critical detail of Ethera, the program that had dragged you into this utterly ridiculous situation. If you could’ve melted into the walls, you absolutely would have. But there was no escaping this.

You just had to keep it together long enough to survive this briefing.

So, you inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and forced your heels forward, trying to project confidence—chin up, back straight, eyes locked onto Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, who you’d been introduced to earlier that day.

And then, of course, you dropped the damn tablet.

Not a graceful drop. Not the kind of gentle slip where you could scoop it back up and act like nothing happened. No, this was a full-on, physics-defying fumble. The tablet flipped out of your arms, ricocheted off your knee, and skidded across the floor to the feet of one of the pilots.

Silence.

Pure, excruciating silence.

You didn’t even have the nerve to look up right away, too busy contemplating whether it was physically possible to disintegrate on command. But when you finally did glance up—because, you know, social convention demanded it—you were met with a sight that somehow made this entire disaster worse.

Because the person crouching down to pick up your poor, abused tablet was freaking hot.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a head of golden curls that practically begged to be tousled by the wind, and, oh, yeah—a moustache that somehow worked way too well on him.

He turned the tablet over in his hands, inspecting it with an amused little smirk before handing it over to you. "You, uh… need this?"

Oh, great. His voice is hot too.

You grabbed it back, praying he couldn't see how your hands were shaking. “Nope. Just thought I’d test gravity real quick.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and his smirk deepened like he was enjoying this way too much. You, on the other hand, wanted to launch yourself into the sun.

With what little dignity you had left, you forced a quick, tight-lipped smile at him before turning on your heel and continuing forward, clutching your tablet like it was a life raft in the middle of the worst social shipwreck imaginable.

At the front of the room, Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson stood with the kind of posture that said he had zero time for nonsense, waiting for the room to settle. You barely had time to take a deep breath before his voice cut through the air.

“Alright, listen up.” His tone was crisp, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “This is Dr Y/N L/N. Everything she is about to tell you is highly classified. What you hear in this briefing does not leave this room. Understood?”

A chorus of nods. "Yes, sir."

You barely resisted the urge to physically cringe as every pilot in the room turned to stare at you—some with confusion, others with barely concealed amusement, and a few with the sharp assessing glances of people who had no clue what they were supposed to do with you.

You cleared your throat, squared your shoulders, and did your best to channel even an ounce of the confidence you usually had when you were coding at 3 AM in a secure, pilot-free lab—where the only judgment you faced was from coffee cups and the occasional system error.

As you reached the podium, you forced what you hoped was a composed smile. “Uh… hi, nice to meet you all.”

Solid. Real professional.

You glanced up just long enough to take in the mix of expressions in the room—some mildly interested, some unreadable, and one particular moustached pilot who still had the faintest trace of amusement on his face.

Nope. Not looking at him.

You exhaled slowly, centering yourself. Stay focused. Stay professional. You weren’t just here because of Ethera—you were Ethera. The only one who truly understood it. The only one who could execute this mission.

With another tap on your tablet, the slide shifted to a blacked-out, redacted briefing—only the necessary information was visible. A sleek 3D-rendered model of the enemy satellite appeared on the screen, rotating slowly. Most of its details were blurred or omitted entirely.

“This is Blackstar, a highly classified enemy satellite that has been operating in a low-Earth orbit over restricted airspace.” Your voice remained even, and steady, but the weight of what you were revealing sent a shiver down your spine. “Its existence has remained off the radar—literally and figuratively—until recently, when intelligence confirmed that it has been intercepting our encrypted communications, rerouting information, altering intelligence, and in some cases—fabricating entire communications.”

Someone exhaled sharply. Another shifted in their seat.

“So they’re feeding us bad intel?” one of them with big glasses and blonde hair asked, voice sceptical but sharp.

“That’s the theory,” you confirmed. “And given how quickly our ops have been compromised recently, it’s working.”

You tapped again, shifting to the next slide. The silent infiltration diagram appeared—an intricate web of glowing red lines showing Etherea’s integration process, slowly wrapping around the satellite’s systems like a virus embedding itself into a host.

“This is where Ethera comes in,” you said, shifting to a slide that displayed a cascading string of code, flickering across the screen. “Unlike traditional cyberweapons, Ethera doesn’t just break into a system. It integrates—restructuring security protocols as if it was always meant to be there. It’s undetectable, untraceable, and once inside, it grants us complete control of the Blackstar and won’t even register it as a breach.”

“So we’re not just hacking it," The only female pilot of the team said, arms crossed as she studied the data. “We’re hijacking it.”

“Exactly,” You nodded with a grin.

You switched to the next slide—a detailed radar map displaying the satellite’s location over international waters.

“This is the target area,” you continued after a deep breath. “It’s flying low-altitude reconnaissance patterns, which means it’s using ground relays for some of its communication. That gives us a small window to infiltrate and shut it down.”

The next slide appeared—a pair of unidentified fighter aircraft, patrolling the vicinity.

“And this is the problem,” you said grimly. “This satellite isn’t unguarded.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the pilots took in the fifth-generation stealth fighters displayed on the screen.

“We don’t know who they belong to,” you admitted. “What we do know is that they’re operating with highly classified tech—possibly experimental—and have been seen running defence patterns around the satellite’s flight path.”

Cyclone stepped forward then, arms crossed, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Which means your job is twofold. You will escort Dr L/N’s aircraft to the infiltration zone, ensuring Ethera is successfully deployed. If we are engaged, your priority remains protecting the package and ensuring a safe return.”

Oh, fantastic, you could not only feel your heartbeat in your toes, you were now officially the package.

You cleared your throat, tapping the screen again. Ethera’s interface expanded, displaying a cascade of sleek code.

“Once I’m in range,” you continued, “Ethera will lock onto the satellite’s frequency and begin infiltration. From that point, it’ll take approximately fifty-eight seconds to bypass security and assume control."

Silence settled over the room like a thick cloud, the weight of their stares pressing down on you. You could feel them analyzing, calculating, probably questioning who in their right mind thought putting you—a hacker, a tech specialist, someone whose idea of adrenaline was passing cars on the highway—into a fighter jet was a good idea.

Finally, one of the pilots—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, and very clearly one of the cocky ones—tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed too much confidence.

“So, let me get this straight.” His voice was smooth, and confident, with just the right amount of teasing. “You, Doctor—our very classified, very important tech specialist—have to be in the air, in a plane, during a mission that has a high probability of turning into a dogfight… just so you can press a button?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of being airborne.

“Well…” You gulped, very much aware of how absolutely insane this sounded when put like that. “It’s… more than just that, but, yeah, essentially.”

A slow grin spread across his face, far too entertained by your predicament.

“Oh,” he drawled, “this is gonna be fun.”

Before you could fully process how much you already hated this, Cyclone—who had been watching the exchange with his signature unamused glare—stepped forward, cutting through the tension with his sharp, no-nonsense voice.

“This is a classified operation,” he stated, sharp and authoritative. “Not a joyride.”

The blonde’s smirk faded slightly as he straightened, and the rest of the pilots quickly fell in line.

Silence lingered for a moment longer before Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson let out a slow breath and straightened. His sharp gaze swept over the room before he nodded once.

“All right. That’s enough.” His tone was firm, the kind that left no room for argument. “We’ve got work to do. The mission will take place in a few weeks' time, once we’ve run full assessments, completed necessary preparations, and designated a lead for this operation.”

There was a slight shift in the room. Some of the pilots exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming mission finally settling in. Others, mainly the cocky ones, looked as though they were already imagining themselves in the cockpit.

“Dismissed,” Cyclone finished.

The pilots stood, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out of the room, the blonde one still wearing a smug grin as he passed you making you frown and turn away, your gaze then briefly met the eyes of the moustached pilot.

You hadn’t meant to look, but the moment your eyes connected, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t want to know.

So you did the only logical thing and immediately looked away and turned to gather your things. You needed to get out of here, to find some space to breathe before your brain short-circuited from stress—

“Doctor, Stay for a moment.”

You tightened your grip on your tablet and turned back to Cyclone, who was watching you with that unreadable, vaguely disapproving expression that all high-ranking officers seemed to have perfected. “Uh… yes, sir?”

Once the last pilot was out the door, Cyclone exhaled sharply and crossed his arms.

“You realize,” he said, “that you’re going to have to actually fly, correct?”

You swallowed. “I—well, technically, I’ll just be a passenger.”

His stare didn’t waver.

“Doctor,” he said, tone flat, “I’ve read your file. I know you requested to be driven here instead of taking a military transport plane. You also took a ferry across the bay instead of a helicopter. And I know that you chose to work remotely for three years to avoid getting on a plane.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That… could mean anything.”

“It means you do not like flying, am I correct?”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet as you tried to find a way—any way—out of this. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to fly the plane. I just need to be in it long enough to deploy Ethera—”

Cyclone cut you off with a sharp look. “And what happens if something goes wrong, Doctor? If the aircraft takes damage? If you have to eject mid-flight? If you lose comms and have to rely on emergency protocols?”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting at the very thought of ejecting from a jet.

Cyclone sighed, rubbing his temple as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “We cannot afford to have you panicking mid-mission. If this is going to work, you need to be prepared. That’s why, starting next week you will train with the pilots on aerial procedures and undergoing mandatory training in our flight simulation program.”

Your stomach dropped. “I—wait, what? That’s not necessary—”

“It’s absolutely necessary,” Cyclone cut in, his tone sharp. “If you can’t handle a simulated flight, you become a liability—not just to yourself, but to the pilots escorting you. And in case I need to remind you, Doctor, this mission is classified at the highest level. If you panic mid-air, it won’t just be your life at risk. It’ll be theirs. And it’ll be national security at stake.”

You inhaled sharply. No pressure. None at all.

Cyclone watched you for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly softer but still firm. “You’re the only one who can do this, Doctor. That means you need to be ready.”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together before nodding stiffly. “Understood, sir.”

Cyclone gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Dismissed.”

You turned and walked out, shoulders tense, fully aware that in three days' time, you were going to be strapped into a high-speed, fighter jet. And knowing your luck?

You were definitely going to puke.

Part 2???

[black-fist-order]

Holyshit. Well here's a conspiracy theory for ya.

I've been wondering why Trump has allowed Elon free reign to upstage him and do what he wants. I'm sure he has to know the public has been calling Trump Elon's lapdog. And then there's the Time cover with Elon sitting behind the presidential desk. Trump should be fuming, but during Elon's press meeting in the White House, Trump just sat there like a castrated sad clown while Elon's kid told him to shut up.

But why? Why would Trump let himself be upstaged and mocked - especially by a child? He already won the election. He doesn't need Elon's money anymore.

But then Jess told me something Elon's kid said during an interview with Tucker Carlson.

When asked if Trump would win the election, the kid says "yes" and then says "they’ll never know."

https://gizmodo.com/elon-musks-kid-keeps-saying-weird-stuff-about-trump-2000563118

During the election, I knew something was up when Trump began accusing Kamala for cheating in Pennsylvania. That's very specific. And historically, he only blames others for things he's doing.

As a programmer, I know anything is hackable. An 11 year old girl at the hacking convention DefCon in Vegas was able to hack into a voting booth in 10 minutes. And that was back in 2018!

And while the voting machines aren’t connected to the internet per-se, it only takes 10 minutes to pop in a USB and get out. And it just so happens there was a bomb threat in PA where they emptied the building. But it wasn’t just one building, it was 67!

Of the 67 locations, 56 were in 11 counties that voted for Joe Biden in the 2020 election, including the eight most populated. Those high-population Democratic counties include voting locations for Milwaukee, Wisconsin; Detroit, Michigan; Phoenix, Arizona; Atlanta, Georgia; and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/amp/rcna179006

Hacker kids do this stuff for the fun of it. Imagine if they were getting paid millions of dollars?

And now, Musk has surrounded himself with these kids who have notoriously gained access to federal records, our records, with ease.

Four hours before election results were called, Elon announced that Trump was the winner and he had an "app" to prove it.

And then, there's this... Trump is a complete idiot and actually said this out loud after the election...

"He (Musk) knows those computers better than anybody. All those computers. Those vote-counting computers," Trump told the crowd. "And we ended up winning Pennsylvania like in a landslide."

https://www.newsweek.com/donald-trump-elon-musk-voting-machine-2017657

"They will never know."

Trump even said repeatedly before the election, "I don't need your vote." It's a weird brag that indicated he had already won.

I had been saying Trump was going to cheat long before the election. But the comment was instantly shot down by both sides. Conservatives thought we were being hypocrites, and progressives thought we should be above Trump-style conspiracies and gracefully accept the outcome.

Looking into this now, I'm not surprised I wasn't the only one. The internet is all over this stuff.

https://www.reddit.com/r/politics/comments/1i5uovx/donald_trumps_voting_computers_comment_sparks/

Will this info ever come out? Will it even matter? I have no doubt Elon's guys are at the top of their game, and the only way this will ever see the light of day is if one of these guys talks.

But for right now, it's obvious to me why Trump is letting Elon do whatever he wants.

Because all it would take is for Elon to turn to a camera and say a few words to the world, "I helped Trump steal the election."

Boom.

[sbcdh]

In order to foster adoption of commercial analogue phone technology in the 1960s, telecommunications companies were engaged in a PR race to be the first into every American home. Bell Systems found a novel approach in publishing their internal schematics as a monthly technology newsletter.

The practice did well, attracting the attention of both home technology hobbyists and government officials alike. Bell Systems phone technology was marketed with a no-nonsense, wave-of-the-future attitude. Tomorrow was here, and it could be purchased at a convenient retail outlet.

An unintended side effect of the practice was the subculture now known as Phone Phreaking, some of histories first hackers.

The accessibility of blueprints and technical specifications, along with detailed descriptions of the analogue communication network allowed phreaks to do everything from eavesdrop on conversations, to evading charges for calls, to the creation of false identities.

Phreaking was, naturally, a rewarding pastime for those with sensitive hearing. Additionally, Phreaking something that could be done without the need of eyes. It is rarely stated in many historical accounts of Phreaking, but many phreaks were blind.

Phreaks have assumed a nigh-mythical place in niche cultural spaces, especially among hacking communities. Phreaks were the blueprint. The OG. Legendary exploits of phreaks were told by many an early computer scientist while hunched over pegboard in darkened university basements.

70s counterculture did little to downplay these legends. Experimental psychedelics we're added to the mix. Tales of blind anarchists speaking to machines was a popular trope in folk stories. The cocktail of psychoactives would always change depending on who told the story. Sometimes it was LSD, sometimes it was Psilocybin, sometimes a sinister or mysterious research chemical. Sometimes they didn't need drugs at all. Regardless, the archetype of the "bakelite oracle" has maintained a strange persistence.

Recently declassified court testimony has revealed these rumors to even have penetrated the echelons of the legal world. Perhaps emboldened by a red scare in full swing, prosecutors we're known to occasionally attribute the ability of wanted activists to vanish into thin air to Phreak collaboration. Preternatural elements are often implied, if rarely outright stated. It is unclear how seriously authorities at the time took such claims.

Study is ongoing.

[artemismoorea03]

DC x DP or Marvel Prompt: The Gremlin Janitor

When Wayne Enterprises/Stark Industries hire two new people at the same time who just happened to share the same two references they just though it was a weird coincidence. After all, one was hired on as a programmer due to his excellent hacking abilities while the other was hired on as a Janitor.

They of course ran background checks on both of them but they came up clear. Fresh out of High School, lived in the area, came from Amity Park Illinois, and no criminal record outside of what they had actively admitted to which was only the one who was hired as a Programmer. He got caught for Hacking - hence how they knew about his skills.

But what caught everybody off guard was the first meeting.

Tucker Foley is rather tall, looks his age, and despite looking around like a kid in a candy store seems to have everything in order.

But then there's Danny Fenton. He looks too young to be out of High School though all of his information was sound and he even had paper documentation and other such proof that he was 19 and was as he claimed "Just short". But he was just here to be a janitor.

So did it truely matter?

If anybody was going to be a security risk it would be the hacker with a record.

The first week goes smoothly, but half way through the second week things start to get noticed. Not about Tucker but about Danny. Sure, there had been plenty of comments about his age but other than that he was just praised as being a hard worker even if he didn't understand the concept of wearing a mask and gloves around spilled chemicals.

But no injuries were reported any time he did this. Even when an experimental suit went out of control and started rushing through the building. It was small compared to some of the other tech, but it was still over six feet tall and easily 400 pounds. It wasn't necessarily on a rampage but it was out of control. People ran out of the way, tried to block it, but nobody was successful until Danny - short as hell Danny Fenton - threw himself right in front of it.

Danny blocked it, with just his forearm, stopping it from running over an intern who had been running from the area in fear of getting crushed by the machine. The intern would report that the area was terribly cold when Danny did this but when Tucker came out of hiding a few seconds later saying the machine had been shut down they attributed the cold to anxiety and figured that Tucker had stopped the machine before it had actually hit Danny.

A few weeks later there was a break in the dead of the night, a fight between the intruder and Danny broke out and again Danny held his own and managed to chase off the intruder but not before one of the metal tables were snapped in half. Danny claimed that the intruder had some kind of blade on his arm that cut through it but it was clearly not cut through.

After that Bruce/Tony starts paying more attention to Danny.

More and more minor things popped up until they were finally driven to a point where they just had to meet this kid in person and see him work.

Within moments of arriving they saw Danny Fenton pick up spilled container of Hydrofloric Acid like it was nothing. Which was just one of MANY things that Danny did within an hour that should have ended in disaster.

The final straw though was when Bruce/Tony decided to finally approach Danny and caught him yelling at a box that was mysteriously floating a few feet off the ground.

"PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!" The box then dropped, Danny let out a hiss that sounded like a feral animal, then turned and made eyecontact with the man a few feet from him. Danny's only response? To lean against the broom he was holding and smile. "Oh, hey boss!"

[discoscoob]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ PHANTOM

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚ Tom Ludlow x Hacker!Reader x Neo Anderson

VOLUME 001

CW: fem!reader, strong language, alcoholism, stalking

Synopsis: Veteran detective, Tom Ludlow, leads the hunt to find the hacker responsible for a cyberattack on the city’s police department with the assistance of Neo, a criminal hacker who he keeps out of jail in exchange for information. 4.0k words.

⋆｡°✩ Note: Reader has a hacker alias, like Neo, that she is referred to however this is not intended to be her real name. Although the story takes place in 1999, some creative liberties have been taken with the advancement of the technology but I tried my best to keep it realistic. I did some research but my knowledge of technology, American law enforcement protocols and hacking is limited/non-existent, so I apologise in advance if anything I’ve written is completely inaccurate. And finally, since I decided to set the story in Chicago, Tom works for the CPD rather than the LAPD. I think that’s all.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

CHICAGO, NOVEMBER 1999

The door chimes as you step into the refuge of the intimate coffee shop, escaping the deluge of the late autumn thunderstorm. Folding up the damp newspaper you had been sheltering under, you’re greeted warmly by the gentle aroma of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon. Beaded raindrops slide off the hem of your black leather trench coat, leaving a trail of droplets over the rustic floorboards on your way towards the counter.

Exploiting the vantage point, you subtly scope the room, scanning for the individual you have arranged to meet. Amidst the ordinary and familiar, a lone hooded figure hunched in the farthest, darkest corner catches your eye.

Cradling the steaming mug of coffee you ordered, warmth flows from the porcelain, melting the chill from your fingers as you weave through the bohemian maze of tables and chairs. Upon reaching the table occupied by the hooded man, you grab his attention by tossing your damp, tattered newspaper on the cherry-wood tabletop before sliding yourself into the chair opposite him.

“Impressive.” his low rasp flows above the bumble of chatter, the whir of the espresso machine and the clatter of the crockery, as he drums his bitten-nailed fingertips over the smudged headline of the dampened newspaper.

‘CYBERATTACK CRIPPLES CHICAGO P.D.’ it reads in bold font across the front page.

You conceal your troubled frown behind your cup of coffee, sipping slowly. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself with casual confidence, your stomach squirms with nerves as if contaminated by worms that coil and twist, leaving a weight of knots that only grows heavier with every glance over your shoulder.

When the man opposite you lowers his hood, you peek over the brim of the mug. The faint amber glow of the overhead lights casts a warm hue upon his pale face, revealing his buzzed haircut, sharp grey eyes and a cursive tattoo above his right brow that reads ‘escape.’

“I can see why you’re interested in some additional protection.” his hushed tone is laced with a knowing edge, as he leans forward, elbows resting on the tabletop, assessing you with a tilted stare.

“You got it?” you waste no time with false pleasantries, uninterested in conversation, you would rather keep this brief. Disregarding his attempt to assert control, your cool exterior remains unflinching as you nonchalantly trace your middle finger along the edge of your mug.

You catch the shift in the muscles of his cheek as he clenches his jaw and leans back into his chair. Grudgingly, he reaches into the pocket of his dark hoodie and pulls out a nondescript disc case. The clear plastic gleams under the overhead lights as he drops it on top of the newspaper with a sharp huff.

You quirk an eyebrow at his insolence, offering no more than that before your attention is snatched by the disc. Picking up the case, you turn it over in your hands and examine it with narrowed eyes.

“This is the only copy?” you double-check while opening the case with a soft click. The disc glimmers as it catches the light, momentarily illuminating your face.

“It’s custom software. No trails. No backups.” he affirms, crossing his arms over his chest.

Satisfied with his response, you scope the room once more, noting how the other patrons are too absorbed in their own lives to notice the rolled up wad of cash you slip into his waiting palm.

“Always a pleasure.” he appears pleased with the payment and stuffs the money into his pocket before he pulls his hood back over his head and leaves the table. As you take a sip from your coffee, the chime of the door echos and the draught from the storm sweeps in as he disappears into it.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

The glaring artificial light from the monitors reflects off the lenses of Neo’s metal frame glasses while his long, jittery fingers click furiously across his keyboard. The perpetual clacking of the keys blends with the low hum of Mezzanine by Massive Attack echoing from the stereo system through the dull and bleak apartment, drowning out the sound of the storm outside. Cables snake across the bare floor, intertwining with the wheels of the worn desk chair. Neo is hunched over his chaotic desk, littered with discarded snack wrappers, empty coffee cups and energy drinks.

Locked in the digital labyrinth, Neo navigates it with unblinking eyes, the code mirrored in his pupils is no doubt permanently scorched into his retinas. The heavy shadows under his eyes are a testament to the endless caffeine-fuelled nights he spends sitting at his computer.

A heavy, insistent knock at the door shatters Neo’s focus, tearing his gaze from the monitors with an agitated groan. The distinct knock and the late hour of the visit tell him exactly who’s at his door.

With a huff, Neo turns off his stereo and pulls himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head to relieve the tension in his stiffened joints. A satisfied moan rolls from his lips and his black T-shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of his pale, sun-deprived skin as his bones click and pop. He pads softly towards the door on socked feet, stepping over tangled cables and discarded wrappers along the way.

Just as he expected, he opens his door to find Tom Ludlow in the dark hallway, leaning against his door frame with a stretched arm. The hardened, veteran detective invites himself inside without waiting for an invitation, the pungent scent of vodka clings to him and wafts into Neo’s dreary apartment as he enters.

“You look like shit.”

The gruff remark comes as no surprise, Tom isn’t exactly known for his sunny disposition.

“You don’t look any better.” Neo kicks his door shut with a grumble before slouching back into his desk chair, returning his attention to his monitors and diving back into the digital labyrinth. Meanwhile, the seasoned cop noses around the cluttered apartment with a disapproving frown tugging at his lips.

Tom lets his heavy body sink into the cushions as he drops onto Neo’s worn two-seater with a long, drawn out sigh of relief. It’s the first time he has had an opportunity to relax all day. He takes a moment to appreciate it.

“That might have something to do with the fact I just spent the last twelve hours dealing with a fucking cyberattack that’s got the whole damn department by the balls.” Tom rests his head down on the back of the couch and closes his eyes as he rubs his hand over his weary face.

“What’s your excuse?” he pauses, lifting his head, letting his eyes trail from Neo’s socked feet to his tousled, unwashed hair. “You’ve got all the time in the world, you could at least attempt to make yourself look half-decent, if you stepped away from that computer for two goddamn seconds…” Tom trails off, realising his frustration might verge on cruelty if he lets himself continue. Instead, he shifts his focus to the murky apartment. “You know, I’ve raided crack dens cleaner than this…”

“So the cyberattack really pissed you off, huh?” Neo turns in his desk chair without acknowledging Tom’s insolent remarks.

“Of course it fucking pissed me off! The entire network is shut down, there’s an encryption or something, I don’t know, blocking access to all the files and data. The Captain’s on my ass to solve this shit internally and find the bastard responsible before the Feds start poking their noses in with all their red tape and bureaucracy bullshit. You know, I always said, you can't rely on computers. The whole damn department is falling apart because everything's digital these days. A cyberattack can bring down an entire system. You couldn’t hack a piece of paper. No, you'd have to burn down the whole damn building or something to get rid of all the physical files.” Tom throws his head back on the couch again and stares up at the stained ceiling, while Neo discreetly rolls his eyes at Tom’s drunken rant and aversion to modern technology.

“Dude, I hate to tell you this, but you’re in way over your head. You’d be better off saving yourself the hassle and leaving this one to the Feds.” Neo advises Tom, clearly doubting his ability to uncover the hacker.

“What do you mean?” Tom leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’re basically looking for the Banksy of cybercrime. A ghost. They’re completely untraceable. There are entire forums full of conspiracies — people think they’re ex-CIA, others are convinced they’re not even real.” Neo’s enthusiasm as he talks about the mystic hacker is met with an unimpressed glare from Tom, who rises from the couch and stalks toward him.

“Believe me, they’re real. A real fucking pain in the ass.” Tom grumbles sourly, hands resting on his hips. “What else do you know?”

“Just that they call themself Eris.” Neo softly mumbles, looking up at Tom from behind his glasses.

“And you found out all this on your forums?” Tom narrows his eyes while vaguely gesturing towards Neo’s monitors.

“Yeah, pretty much… I’ve been following it ever since the news broke. They’re going crazy.” Neo glances over his shoulder towards his monitors before returning his focus towards Tom when he is suddenly hit by a fresh wave of realisation.

“Hold on… you knew nothing? You mean, you’ve been chasing your tails for the last twelve hours?” Neo raises an eyebrow while barely managing to stifle a laugh.

“It’s been pretty fucking hard with the entire department’s network shut down!” Tom immediately snaps defensively. “What do you think I came here for?”

“Okay, I get it, you want my help.” Neo lets out a deep sigh, gently swaying his desk chair side to side as he bounces his leg and avoids Tom’s fierce gaze. “But Eris isn’t just some run-of-the-mill script bunny, we’re talking about a master. It’ll be virtually impossible to track down their identity.”

“So you’re telling me you can’t do it?” frustration seeps into Tom’s tone as he folds his arms across his chest and leans against Neo’s desk, causing the empty coffee mugs to rattle.

“I didn’t say that.” Neo perks up and straightens himself in his desk chair as if trying to shake off the weight of his own self doubt. “Listen, I’ll try, okay? But I can’t guarantee that I’ll find anything. You’re asking me to find a ghost.”

“Even ghosts can leave traces, Neo.” Tom offers Neo a firm, encouraging pat on his shoulder before dragging himself back over to the worn two seater couch. Exhausted after a long, stressful shift and subdued by the vodka, Tom collapses onto the cushions horizontally.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

The faint click of keys is broken by the sharp hiss and pop of another energy drink opening as Neo scours forum after forum. The glow from the monitor is the only source of light in the room as he reads through endless streams of contradictory information and preposterous conspiracies. His attempts to reach out to fellow hackers has been predictably futile — dead ends, dismissals and wild goose chases.

When the deep repetitive rumble of snoring begins to flow through the room, Neo glances back at Tom, who is passed out cold with his arm dangling off the side of the couch. With a huff, Neo shoves his headphones on and blasts The Downward Spiral by Nine Inch Nails loud enough to drown out the sound.

Hours pass, punctuated by the clicks of his keyboard. His head feels foggy from exhaustion and the streams of meaningless data he has sifted through. But then, a pattern begins to emerge from a series of recurring orders of high-end custom encryption software from underground markets, all linked with the same digital fingerprint. A breadcrumb trail. His heartbeat quickens as he runs the information through a data-mining algorithm, leading him deeper down the rabbit hole. That’s when he finds it — an encrypted communication between Eris and a known cyber dealer.

The message is brief but reveals a meeting took place just a few hours ago at a local coffee shop, finally giving Neo a physical location to place the illusive hacker. With his pulse hammering, Neo hacks into the security cameras and pulls up the footage for the exact hour the meeting was scheduled.

Neo’s fatigued eyes scan the pixelated footage, searching for the possible suspect. His breath catches at the sight of a woman wearing a leather trench coat, walking with a confident stride. She tosses a newspaper on a table occupied by a hooded figure, before sliding into the chair opposite. Neo zooms in, every detail sends a jolt through him — her pretty face, subtle confidence, the quirk of her brow, the way her middle finger traces the rim of her coffee cup.

She’s perfect. So perfect and stunning.

Neo’s heart throbs, for once, it’s not due to the obscene amounts of caffeine in his system. A mixture of fascination and desire floods through his body and the hunt for the high-profile hacker slips to the back of his mind. He loops the footage, letting his mind drift until something in the video yanks him back to reality. He watches the man hand her a nondescript disc. After a brief inspection, she slips a thick wad of cash into his waiting palm in return.

Neo shakes his head, in an attempt to clear the haze of desire clouding his judgment. He replays the footage again, rewatching the exchange several times, until there is no doubt in his mind that she is the one he has been searching for.

Neo slumps back into his chair, defeated and elated all at once. He hadn’t expected this. Not only is she brilliant, elusive and smart but also gorgeous. It’s not fair. Staring at the frozen image on the screen, his mind races. The initial plan to assist Tom vanishes in a wave of wild impulse. Eris isn’t just another faceless criminal anymore. She is no longer a mystic ghost that exists only in the depths of endless conspiracies on hacker forums. Now, she is real, tangible and absolutely captivating. Neo knows he can’t just give her up.

“Fuck.” he groans, pulling off his glasses and burying his face in the palm of his hands with his elbows resting on the few clear spaces left on his cluttered desk. He tries to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Neo hears a faint grumble. His head snaps up, panic surging through him. He nearly gives himself whiplash with how fast he turns to look behind him. Tom, in a half-dazed state, sprawled on his stomach, his cheek pressed against the cushions and his arm dangling off the side of the couch, is just barely starting to come to his senses.

“N- Nothing… just…” Neo’s tone wavers with panic, his jittery fingers scramble to urgently close the security footage. He feels his face flush as he blurts. “I was… uh… I- I was watching porn.”

Neo freezes, his eyes widen and his face pales after those words leave his mouth without a trace of forethought as he wonders, out of all the possible excuses, why the fuck did he say that?

Still half-asleep, Tom huffs as he sits up, groaning at the throbbing ache in his skull from his hangover. He pauses, trying to process Neo’s words.

“You were… what?”

“I- I mean, no, I wasn’t—”

“Neo, are you being fucking serious?” Tom growls, his voice raising, along with his stress and frustration, his expression hardens with disbelief. “You’re telling me, instead of tracking down the hacker, like I told you to, you’ve been sitting there jacking off — while I’m right here! — like some kind of fucking creep. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“No! It’s not like that!” Neo pitches in desperation, his cheeks blazing red, realising what a freak he just made himself out to be.

“I haven’t got time for your bullshit excuses, Neo. I’ve got to get back to the station and do some actual police work.” Tom shoots up from the couch and paces, distractedly checking his pager for any updates from the department. “I should’ve known better than to trust some wannabe hacker, you can barely make it in the virtual criminal world on your damn computer, never mind the real world. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Neo jolts in his chair at the slam of the door, surprised it’s still on its hinges with the way Tom roughly swung it shut behind him after storming out. He knows Tom is stressed, frustrated, and hungover — a toxic combination — but that doesn’t soften the sting of his cruel words. They cut deep, no matter how much Neo tries to tell himself that Tom probably didn’t really mean them.

“Well done, Neo.” he mutters bitterly to himself, the sound of his own voice barely above a whisper in the now-empty room.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

Neo is fully aware that what he is planning to do isn’t exactly sane or rational. After Tom stormed out, he spent hours combing through more of the security footage, discovering that you frequent the coffee shop almost daily. You always settle in the little nook by the alcove window, overlooking the bustling city streets, with the same order: a coffee and panini. Now, on impulse, he has decided to visit the café himself, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in person.

Water droplets cling to his freshly showered skin, trickling down his pale frame in slow, meandering paths. A dark towel is wrapped securely around his hips, where faint tufts of dark, coiled hair peek out from beneath the terry cloth on his lower abdomen. He rifles through a haphazard pile of clothes on the floor, lifting several shirts to his nose, inhaling deeply before discarding them, searching for the freshest one.

Neo trails his sunken eyes over his reflection in the smudged mirror, a shaky breath escaping his moistened lips at the sight. His jittery fingers pat down his slicked back hair, pushing stray strands into place. The contact lenses — a change from his usual glasses — feel heavy on his tired eyes, sharpening the fuzzy edges of the world around him.

The sight of himself so neat and put together feels strange and offbeat — like a Halloween costume, if the costume was ‘Normal Guy.’

When Neo arrives at the coffee shop, he makes a sensible choice and orders decaf. He is jittery enough without the added rush of more caffeine racing through his veins. This coffeehouse isn’t his usual haunt — he tends to stick to instant coffee at home — but he can understand why you like it here. The cozy warmth and hushed ambiance even manage to unwind some of the tension coiled inside him as he settles at your usual table, the one tucked away in the nook by the alcove window. He hopes you’ll glance over to check if your favourite spot is taken — and see him. That would be enough. Then he will know you’re aware of his existence. Neo’s plan doesn’t extend much further than that for now.

The coffee, however, sits untouched as Neo anxiously taps his foot, his focus flicking between the door and the clock on the wall. His unsettled heart spasms with every chime of the door — half longing, half fretting — that it might finally be you, stepping over the threshold.

He wipes his palms on his dark jeans, feeling the contact lenses prick against his tired eyes.

Then the door chimes again.

Neo’s breath hitches. His heart leaps.

As soon as he lays his eyes upon you, the world ceases her rotation. The hushed chatter, clattering mugs and hissing steamer blur into a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of his throbbing heart against his ribcage. You step through the door, carrying yourself with effortless confidence that, to him, seems otherworldly. There’s something magnetic about you, every cell in his body feels the tug, luring him toward you.

You haven’t noticed him. Not yet. But you will.

Suddenly, there’s too much saliva pooling in his mouth, he swallows thickly, desperately trying not to choke and make a fool of himself. His fidgety fingers twitch, reaching for his untouched coffee cup just to keep them occupied and anchor himself. He fears he might float away, like an untethered balloon, if he doesn’t hold onto something solid.

It’s an overused expression, but he truly can’t believe his eyes. You’re real, standing right there, only a few feet away. Adrenaline surges through his quivering body, sending his pulse into overdrive. His thoughts glitch and stutter, suspending him over a chasm of indecision, caught between yearning to get closer and the impulse to crawl under the table before you notice him.

Before Neo has the chance to do either, the door chimes once more.

His eyes widen at the sight of Tom following behind you.

What the hell is he doing here? What the hell is he doing with you?

His mind floods with questions that twist his anxious stomach into knots. Did Tom figure out who you are? Has he caught you already? It doesn’t look like he’s arresting you. Perhaps he is just questioning you.

Panic coils around Neo’s heart like barbed wire, his fingers tighten around the coffee cup. Neo’s eyes bounce between you and Tom, trying to piece together an explanation, but it only leaves him more confused, more anxious.

This doesn’t make any sense.

His heart hammers against his ribs, dangerously hard, as Tom leans in, speaking to you in a way that’s far too casual, far too familiar. Neo’s mind spirals. Tom doesn’t look suspicious of you — he doesn’t seem suspicious of anything. In fact, he almost seems… apologetic.

The detective's lips move with words Neo desperately wishes he could hear, he wants to know what makes you stop and listen. Neo gulps, trying to force the air trapped in his throat back down to his lungs as he watches you process Tom’s words. Whatever he said, causes the faintest smile to tug at your lips, and Neo feels an unfamiliar twist in his chest, bitter and sharp.

It only worsens when he watches a rare curve appear on Tom’s usually rigid face. Since when does Tom smile like that? It’s all because of you…

You’re… amazing. Neo knows that for certain now, you had to be to crack someone as hard as Tom. That’s why Neo is so drawn to you, your power, your allure. No one else possesses the power to soften a man like Tom. No one but you.

But what do you see in him? Jealousy coils tighter in Neo’s gut, while his admiration for you grows with every second. You’re remarkable, strong, gorgeous, untouchable. And Tom? He doesn’t deserve any of it. He doesn’t deserve your smile, your time, your company. Neo hates it.

His jaw tightens when Tom pays for your order. What do you do to him? Tom isn’t charmed by just anyone. Neo’s thoughts churn, his unsettled mind runs in circles and his grip on the coffee cup tightens as he watches, helpless, waiting for the pieces to fall into place. But the puzzle remains a mess.

Then, your eyes shift.

Neo’s heart stumbles and drops like a rock and your gazes lock. His body freezes and his tumbling heart quivers with a racing pulse. No… no, no, no…

You saw him.

Neo quickly diverts his attention, but it’s too late. That one moment, your eyes locking, that was enough. An icy shiver crawls down Neo’s spine, melting at the base as dread seeps into his veins. She caught me staring? What must she think?

Neo’s chest tightens as you lean closer to Tom, he can’t hear your words, but the way you nod subtly in his direction makes his throat go dry. You’re telling him. You told him. Panic spreads like wildfire as Neo’s eyes dart around, wondering how quickly he could bolt to the exit without making a scene, but before he can act, Tom turns. The soft smile is gone, replaced by the sharp, hardened look Neo is more familiar with.

Tom’s gaze lands directly on him. Oh fuck. Now you’re both looking at him.

˙ ✩°˖📀⋆｡˚

⋆｡°✩ Note: I’m sorry this part is very reader lite but don’t worry reader is in the next part from start to finish and I’ll introduce the third mystery keanuverse character! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it enough to come back for more! VOLUME 002 will be posted in November!

[ihaznoclue]

Yay, I get to request again!

Could I request a hacker reader with Bumblebee and Knockout?

Pairings -> Bumblebee, Knockout x Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Reader being a hacker

Genre -> Fluff

Bumblebee

Literally is so amazed on how talented you are at computers

Literally once he realized you and Raf and literally the same since you both can practically do computer but you can hack!

Bumblebee would be so proud of you every time you archive

Like for a mission for example, Optimus told Raf if he could hack into the Decepticons data base but he seemed that Raf couldn't so you went in

And eventually you hacked into the data base easily with some typing and that's it

Bumblebee was so impressed by that

He would then question you but it seemed you can't understand him like Raf so Raf translated

"He said that you're very talented"

Knockout

He a doctor and your a hacker

Literally whenever Knockout is having trouble with the machines

You would always be there to help or he would just call you to the laboratory

Knockout would amazed at first and he is still amazed on how you little humans do it so easily sometimes

He would be nervous that you would be a secret spy or something that is getting information from him and the others

But he then knew you were helping them

You also helped them find the relics with sound wave

You and sound wave make a good pair (not romantically)

Knockout would always come to you because

I feel like he is scared of sound wave sometimes of how quiet he is

But never the less you are always willing to help Knockout

-A<3

[issy5316]

goodbye

this is a callout post to @hinatasweetgrape

i know you'll be reading this, so i'll let my friends do the talking

oh, and they've seen your other account, @hinataNSFW

season 1:

jones: oh god, you are horrible! simping for a child as well?! and calling out other people's art?! at least they make it look decent and not use AI!

nathan: this is a faith worse than death, to ridicule people who work hard! and you can't even use their correct pronouns at all!

grace: sexualizing a child is horrible! leave julian out of your disgusting fantasies!

ramirez: horrible, just horrible! i know my art isn't always the best, but at least i put in effort, and you don't even get the skintones right for many of them! or make the whiter!

alex: i'm sorry you think your art is good! looking at it is horrifying! and your comments are so innapropriate!

cathy: i'm a hacker, if i had the chance, i would hack your account and make it disappear!

king: i may not understand technology that well, but you are doing a horrifying thing!

season 2:

andrea: what you are doing is so horrible, you think other art is shitty, but it's your art that's horrible, you haven't even drawn it at all! it's AI!

amy: the art is......horrible, and your other posts are just.......just horrible!

russell:'shaking'you are a psychopath......

frank: ya! i know i wasn't the best person and i wasn't best buddies with russell, but i would never sexually assault him! what if my daughters saw your posts and think i'm a horrible person?! and you would never capture karen's true beauty!

hannah: i wish i could delete your posts off my brain.

roxie: all the alcohol in the world can't make me forget what i just saw.

yann: my children could see those posts! are you ashamed of yourself at all?! i am horrified by those posts!

karen:........i am disgusted, i know me and frank don't always see eye to eye, but he would never assault someone!

season 3:

ripley:.........'vanishes'

ingrid: i'm almost tempted to turn back to my ice cold self just by looking at those posts.

jack: what the fuck did i just look at?!

lars: those posts are just so weird........even when i got high, i didn't see stuff like that!

angela: i hope you are ashamed of yourself for what you have done.

carmen: i am not white at all! you are a horrible sorry excuse of a wannabe artist!

marina: you need all the therapy of the world, and i don't think it will even help you.

jonah: i'm going to lock my weapons up before anyone finds them after seeing your art.

elliot: your art is horrible, but i can't see your other account since i'm 17, but after everything i heard, i'm glad i'm not 18.

michelle:........prepare to get sued.

season 4:

arthur: i am horrified with what the future generation is coming to! i am so disgusted right now!

richard: this self experiment of what i saw is making me feel things i don't like at all.

viola: even bad written plays are better than what i saw and read!

maddie: i don't want to solve this case since it's horrifying!

charles:........i thought the inventions would be better, i guess i was wrong.......

isaac: at least i'm dead by the time this is created.

evie: this is why i stay with books......

rose: i don't know what to do about this.......this is horrifying.

diego: at least i make my art look decent, unlike this wannabe art i'm looking at!

season 5:

diane: this is the most horrifying thing i've ever seen, and i've been working in the law for a while!

gloria: i'm so glad my son isn't going to be looking at this stuff you created.

martine:'curses in french'

rita: i think i'm going to give myself amnesia.

rupert: amir, is the new generation always like this?

amir: no, no it's not.

gabriel: people are insane if they think insulting good art work is good.......

season 6:

christopher: what am i looking at right now?

zara: nightare fuel is what i'm looking at.

janis: my grandchildren have better manners than you.

theo: i'm getting my lawyers.

kai: and i'm fixing the time machine to prevent us from looking at this.

orlando: you have horrible taste in words!

penelope:.......maybe i should stop writing fanfiction for awhile.

season 7:

jacob: you must be working with the demons to have your head so far up your ass.

gwen: you don't put effort at all or think, i hope you realize you are wrong........but i don't have hope for you.

luke: now i wish i was old enough to drink to forget what i just saw.

ben: i'm disappointed that our fandom is becoming corrupted because of people like you, i know our games aren't the best, but we deserve some respect!

priya: i wish i was in my werewolf form so i won't remember this.

hope: i don't have hope for your future in this fandom.

felix: i'm going to look for an elixar to forget about this.

season 8:

JP: gauthier, please buy some bleach for all of us.

gauthier: yes papa, i want to forget about this.

hugo:......i think i'll consider changing my behavior for once in my life.

carrie: i did not come to paris to witness this!

nadia: disgusting.......writing noncon, sexualizing a minor! i know i call dead peopel pretty, but at least i ask for consent and make sure they are an adult! i hope you will realize your mistakes one day!

enzo: i think i might change my behavior as well.......like hugo said.

emile:'shaking'i am getting away from the internet is you are here to make it unsafe!

lea: i agree with emile!

and that's all

hinata

i know you will say something about this, and i will be honest with you

you put in no effort at all, you made fun of other people's art, this fandom already has enough problems in it

so us a favor and think before you act, this fandom has drama, like the others, but that doens't mean you need to create it, we just want to have fun and you aren't doing us a favor by creating stuff like this, and insulting other people's work

you can block me, becausee guess what?

i don't give a flying fuck about your opinion

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday - Johnny Storm

Summary: Johnny is a natural when it comes to cyber security but he has to tread lightly.

Warnings: None at this point. Please let me know if I missed any.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

“Hey, G, Geralt, did you get those latest security patches tested?” Johnny never bothered to knock on the cubicle the testers shared. They'd asked to be called by their last names, Hunter and Rivia, to avoid confusion with the double G names but Johnny preferred to be on a first name basis. Though no one actually knew G's full first name outside of management.

“Is the update still scheduled to go live today?” G asked, not looking from his screen. “Yeah,” Johnny replied.

“And are our initials on the code updates?” Geralt growled, also not looking away from his screen.

“Yeah.”

“Then we've tested them. Why are you bothering us?” G monotones before taking a sip from his coffee.

“Because you know how much I love annoying you two,” Johnny said with a smile. “How's the bug count going?”

“I'm ahead by three,” Geralt says with a bit of pride in his voice.

The two testers had a “friendly” competition every month to see who could find and resolve the most bugs. Pine and Syverson allowed it only because it never escalated beyond veiled threats of bodily harm from the loser. No one outside of the two was ever really sure what the stakes were but Johnny figured they must be incredibly good.

“Way to go,” Johnny congratulated. “G's got his work cut out for him.”

“If I give you one of the cookies I got from the vending machine will you go away?” G sighed, still not looking away from his screen.

“Yes,” Johnny nods emphatically. Still not looking away from his computer G grabs the small roll of cookies and tosses one to Johnny who immediately consumes it. “Love the sugar. Thanks! Happy hunting!”

Johnny settled himself into his “war cave” as he called his cubicle on release days. He's got energy drinks, candy bars, and occasional “healthy” meals to keep his stomach from getting too upset.

New security updates means new attempts by hackers. He's gotta be on high alert for at least the first day, if not the rest of the week. He's got his work computer with his credentials and his laptop with his own TheHumanTorch69. Going back and forth between the two of them allowed for a two-pronged defense against would-be hackers.

In truth, there was one username in particular he was looking for: DarkAngel2000. She was always the biggest threat to the firewall. He'd taken great pains to befriend her using his personal credentials without earning her suspicion. He pretends to work with her to break everything but, in fact, uses the intel to counter her on his work account. It's a difficult line to walk, not being too obvious, trying to appear actually helpful, but he's gotten good at it. The sugar rush definitely helps.

He gets a notification on his personal account:

DarkAngel2000: ready to party? TheHumanTorch69: always! DarkAngel2000: got ur sugar rush started? TheHumanTorch69: way ahead of u DarkAngel2000: let the games begin!

For the next several hours Johnny goes into a bit of a trance as he gets to work in his two-faced role. It's almost a dance, well, more of a mosh-pit, but he's got the skills to navigate it.

You're taking notes on your conversation with TheHumanTorch69 and seeing if you can find correlation with the company drone account you keep seeing countering your hacking attempts. You're certain there's more to Torch than what he's telling you. He might even be this JStorm account from the company but you need evidence.

You need to be careful. Torch is a good coder, one of the best you've worked with. But ever since you started working with him, the vast majority of your plans have gone south. You don't appreciate being duped and if it turns out Torch has been playing you, there will be repercussions.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

[yabsthesquare]

JSABtober day 7 🔺️ At the Speed of Light: The Hacker

Status in my AU: 🟡Debating if canon🟡

(Atsol, they/them/any)

Just your average weeb, geek and computer guy who probably spends too much time in their room. They may not know what the sun looks like, but they sure know how to use their four hands... for hacking, dummy 👁/sil

They're an incredibly skilled hacker capable of handling 4 machines or more at the same time, truly a useful ability to turn off security systems or getting classified info. Of course, their service comes with a price... whether that would be money or the latest anime figurine in the market

They weren't gonna be canon but just as I typed their description I went "HMMM.. I could use a hacker in my story" lmao

Also yes Zoro got so lost he ended up in the jsab world 💚🔥 Gotta love Zoro

[aardvaark]

i neeeeed to talk about the leverage/person of interest crossover that only exists in my head, where the leverage characters are in the person of interest universe & vaguely following some of the person of interest plotlines (TM = The Machine, POI = Person Of Interest):

nate’s got a lot of similarities to harold. just replace nate’s evil ex-employer (insurance agency which let his son die) with harold’s evil ex-employer (government ppl concerned with The Machine, which lets innocent "irrelevant" people die) and voila. i think nate’s son (sam) was murdered instead of sick in this universe, and nate realised that TM predicted it and no one did anything. nate still doesn’t have the great computer/hacking skills harold does, he was involved in TM on behalf of the government or something. regardless, he knows a lot about it, but did not actually code it himself. he would struggle soooo much with the ethics of all this like harold does, and struggle with the legality like carter does.

unlike grace, if nate faked his death like harold did, maggie would absolutely know that nate was still alive. she 100% expects that shit from him. so either he doesn’t fake his death and just disappears without explanation, or maggie quickly confronts him and is really mad that he’d pretend to be dead when their son recently really did die. maggie is also quite a bit like carter, since they’re both very perceptive and not easily fooled.

parker mirrors root in a lot of ways, and a bit of shaw. the harold-root dynamic and nate-parker dynamic have some similarities too, with parker eventually becoming the mastermind, just like root becomes the analogue interface of the machine that harold built. also root & parker both became known as only one name lol. before POI, root was an assassin, hacker & thief. parker (pre-leverage) wouldn’t do all the grifting that root did in her pre-POI jobs, so parker would probably be using her own thief methods back then. parker is also much less concerned with hacking and i don’t think she’d think of TM as god-like, in the way root does. parker would instead become analogue interface because she’s *already* on the team and her thief skills are best suited for many of the "tertiary operations" that root performs. i mean, can’t you just picture parker doing the "im not talking to you" bit? like shaw, parker has always been told there’s something wrong with her and has been treated badly because of it. so on the emotional/personal side of things, i think parker would be quite close to shaw’s emotional arc in many ways.

hardison is also a bit like root and harold, but mostly because he’s a hacker, not because of who he is as a person. i think nate would not have the hacking skills required to deal with a lot of the stuff harold does in POI, so hardison would fill that role instead. hardison may have, at some point, been involved in the making of TM, or probably tried to hack it early on and actually succeeded. im not sure hardison would necessarily *want* to make TM and i definitely don’t think he’d make it reset every night like harold did, so that’s why i don’t think he’s necessarily the creator. like reese and shaw, hardison sometimes uses grifting to get into the "irrelevant" numbers’ lives. also like how root loves shaw for exactly who she is, hardison loves parker for exactly who she is, and their relationship would fit very well into a person of interest AU in that way. without root, who refers to the machine as "she", either the machine would get called "it" or else hardison might give it a name and pronouns and recognise that it’s… well, a bit more than the average AI.

eliot has some combination of reese & shaw’s backgrounds mixed in with his own. ie, at some point, he was unknowingly following TM’s orders, but he was on the "relevant" side of things. he may have been suspicious of how they were getting the numbers, but we know that pre-leverage eliot was kind of in a state where he was killing without caring about it for quite a while. perhaps once he quit the jobs involving killing, he might have gone looking for answers. whether or not he finds those answers prior to joining the team… that’s a story for another time.

sophie is a little like root (in that she mostly uses grifting for her jobs) but only slightly. honestly, person of interest doesn’t really have a character like sophie because POI is fine with killing people off, whereas leverage uses grifting instead of killing tons of people. so really, sophie’s kinda filling reese’s role, despite how odd that might sound. plus reese is the only team member that harold really chooses, a bit like how nate goes out of his way to track down sophie in leverage. i’d still like nate & sophie to have a history though, unlike reese and harold.

tara might be a fixer and similar to zoe morgan. and she would pose as a number or pretend to be involved in helping a number in the same way she pretends to be a lawyer in her first leverage episode.

leverage really doesn’t have comparable character roles to carter and fusco, particularly since they obtain their own info rather than secretly getting info off cops. i guess there’s bonnano and fbi guys but they’re much less present and not similar to carter & fusco. however, the leverage characters all get to be a bit comedic, which replaces a lot of fusco’s comedic relief, and ive mentioned how nate and maggie have some carter traits. this does make the "infiltrating corrupt cops/HR" plotline harder though.

let’s go steal the northern lights :)

[carnyreborn]

Sombra finding a way to hack and corrupt Hana's mech, while she is still inside corrupting her in the process

Ask originally sent by @tokufan400

Hana is... a bit suspicious of Sombra. She knows that the girl is... a friend of Lucio's, given his Freedom Fighter past, but even then, their methods and behaviours are rather different. Sombra is a dark creature, walking in the shadows - so much so she made that her name - while Lucio shines in the sunlight, inspiring and bringing hope to others. There's a reason why she adores the Brazillian man, and she is even dating him. But Sombra's friendship with him, and even her flirting with the two of them can be a bit too much sometimes. Even if she has to admit, seeing those two gorgeous teammates did awaken something inside of her, but she'd never admit to it. She doesn't have the courage to do so.

Well, not like it matters. Hana is currently inside her mecha, training alone in Gibraltar. Most of the Overwatch crew is busy, even Lucio had left for a mission with a few others. Just her, Sombra, Tracer and Zen were left back at the base, and knowing Tracer, she'll spend the entire day inside the plane simulator of their base. Of course, that isn't an issue... or she doesn't think so. After all, she has no idea that an invisible Sombra has been watching her for the past 30 minutes or so as she flies around and shoots different targets.

Sombra is... a bit annoyed with Hana. She has always known that Lucio likes girls that are... softer. While Hana is a bit of a gremlin, their relationship is pure and wholesome... which is an issue for the Mexican hacker. After all, she has a crush on both of them and she wants to both fuck the tiny Asian whore and also be pounded from today until tonight by the Brazillian stud. A big issue... until she found a solution.

Hypnosis isn't the catch-all solution to everything many people think it is. It's complicated, technically complex and more often than not, too hard to implement. The subject needs to be in an isolated environment, slowly pushed towards their true self, and that needs to be something they at least like or want to become. Not the easiest of conditions to be fulfilled, but right now, Sombra knows she has Hana right where she wants.

She makes sure she has that small hypno background program going on and sends it towards Hana's mech. The thing is a fortress, one of the most complicated hardware and software links Sombra has ever seen... or it would've been if she hadn't purchased the schematics of its own software in the black market a few days ago. It was a piece of cake to get inside the bot and to start blasting two different things. The first of them is a song so low Hana wouldn't be able to hear it even with her guns not firing, but one that would blast her brain. And the second one is a small hypno pattern on top of her HUD, that would start with a spiral.

Hana, of course, doesn't even pay any attention to what is going on, even as she sees something... different with her HUD. Given her training inside that bot and all the effort, she puts daily, even the smallest of differences would jump up to her, but she can't pin... anything too wrong. Just like there's some sort of interference... which she chalks up to the girl who just comes around.

"Oh, Hi Sombra. Was thinking about ya, even." Hana says, moving to get off her bot, but Sombra shakes her head.

"Hi, Chica. Always nice to meet you again! No need to hop off, wanted to see you a bit in action inside that machine!" Sombra chuckles, knowing that is a normal request - she has to admit, it is impressive seeing the different members of Overwatch doing their best to work as hard as possible in their own field. Seeing Hana flying around has a beauty to it, and the gal also understands others will be interested in that.

"Eh, sure. I'm having some fun here!" The gamer grins, back towards her training and enjoying it once more. Sombra, however, isn't there just to stay silent. The hypno patterns prime the woman towards the corruption, the bot itself with so many juicy options, but for now, she wants to get the hypno ball going.

"It must feel great to be there, just shooting at things in the outside! Almost letting you get in the zone, right?" Sombra ponders, with Hana nodding.

"Sure is. It feels good and it is nice to just... let go sometimes. I can feel my mind growing empty sometimes!" The zen of a battlefield is a well-known effect, drawing attention to it would help Sombra getting Hana deep into her own trance without the gremlin noticing it.

"You have been going there for half an hour? You must be... rather close." She teases once more, intensifying the lights and the spiral just a tiny bit.

"...Y-Yeah..." Hana takes a moment to reply, her hands growing a bit sloppy at the target, she is just... really zoning out, huh?

"So much so you are almost asleep." Sombra is now inside the speakers from the mecha that were producing the low song. Her voice coming from all around Hana, who is starting to get so much under it she doesn't even notice that Sombra is doing something, just that something is wrong.

"S-Sombra, som'ting is off, I need to..." She tries to get off... but Sombra made sure to deactivate that leaver too.

"No no, no getting off, you are so tired, so into the combat feel, it would be dangerous. Stay there, look at the spiral~" With another flick of her wrist, the spiral takes full control of the HUD she is using, not letting her gaze be adverted at all. "Relax. Let the spiral and my voice control your thoughts, you can let go."

"I can... let go..." Hana mutters, she barely had any fight, but it is already gone as she snaps down towards the abyss of the hypno world.

"...Amazing! Great work, Chica! This feels fantastic, doesn't it? The feeling of nothing, of the emptiness, of letting your mind fully relax. You are loving it" Sombra grins, with full control of both the mecha and the mind of the overwatch agent. And no one to interrupt either of them.

"It feels... fantastic," Hana mutters back. "It feels fantastic to let go, to be like this." Her usually energetic voice is now far quieter, more poignant, more... mindless.

"You see Hana, for a while now, I had a crush on you and on your cute boyfriend. But the two of you are so soft, so... ugh, wholesome, and while that is nice and all... you are lacking something."

"...I'm lacking something." Hana can't fully understand the words. Just the small bits it is what her mind is listening to. One of the perks of hypnosis is not needing to fully understand Sombra's monologues.

"Yep, you sure are!" The Hacker continues. "You are missing... a kinky side Chica! You are so soft and so cuddly... but Lucio told me he wanted someone far more... active. Energetic. Open to new and kinky possibilities." Of course, Lucio had said no such thing.

"I am... missing a kinky side." She replies back, that fact being implanted deep inside her mind.

"And I'm here to help! I'm your great pal Sombra, someone who you always had a crush on!" She continues, not knowing that is actually true. Ending up on true factors helps to drive the hypnosis even more in her subconscious. "So, once the hypnosis is down, I'll try something fun with you. If you have fun with it... you'll start thinking about adding me to your relationship!" Sombra knows that Hana wouldn't want to listen to Lucio bringing someone new to their relationship, but Lucio would absolutely do whatever he could to please his girl. A perfect plan.

"I would... love to add you to our relationship~" Hana let a soft moan, her previously empty mind now full of amazing things.

"Of course, you also won't remember this specific chat, your mind will, but you won't. However, you'll remember this great state, so any time Sombra asks if I want to see the spiral movie, you'll grow excited and willing to follow her and allow her to put you back here in this state with ease." There's no way a hacker wouldn't leave a backdoor whenever exploring someone's computer or someone's mind.

"I will... do all of that." Her mind is too focused on the mental images of Sombra and Lucio between her legs, the two of them worshipping her holes with their skilled tongues and fingers.

"Great! Now, you'll slowly wake up now!" Sombra orders. "Remember all I told you in your subconscious, but never as an active memory. Even if you feel a bit weird about not remembering, you'll just think you were in a fighting trance" She makes sure that backdoor wouldn't be found and... perfect!

Hana takes a bit to wake up and as she does, she looks around the mecha, and to the clock. Damn, over 15 minutes since Sombra had gotten there!

"O-Oh, damn!" Hana mutters, blushing a bit as she does so. This is wild. "I must've been really out of it! So... wanna use here the training area?" She asks Sombra, trying to avoid anything too wild or too weird with the other gal.

"Mhm... not really... I did want to train with you, however." Sombra continues, still with her hacking gloves pointing at Hana. She messed with the mecha's software, it's time to fuck with its hardware. And with Hana herself.

"I wanted to try something with your bot, nothing too crazy, but I'm sure you'll love it." She says with Hana just moving the Bot's cockpit up and down. A common signal she has developed to 'nod' while inside her machine.

Of course, there is no preparing for what Sombra has cooked as the bot glows with Sombra's typical purple, small... tendrils come all around her. Hana knows those are usually the repair tendrils that come around to fix small issues in the middle of the battle but now... they are weird. Her more lewd prone mind, set up by Sombra, finally sees them as... the slightly phallic.

"W-What are you doing?" Hana questions, as the tendrils start rubbing against her body. Couple of them at her face, many more around her body. Given how she is laying down to operate the mecha, she doesn't have much of a range of movements to get freed up, or even just wiggle.

"Oh, nothing too grand, just checking a few things of the bot..." Sombra continues... as the tendrils create smaller tendrils. Usually, that is just for fixing but now, they aren't fixing things. No, they are ripping her own clothes off, taking all of them away from her body and leaving her naked inside her mecha.

"S-SOMBRA?! WHAT ARE YOU DOOOOOING~!!!!!!" It started as an angry and surprised exclamation but became far more powerful as the robotic tentacles - she can't deny it is what those are - start rubbing her body, making her breathing grow slower, more powerful.

"Mhm... what it looks like, I'm teasing a cute little whore~" Sombra continues, sitting down on a nearby bench, pulling out screens that are showing the cameras from inside the bot, so she can have a full show.

The tentacles are really rubbing against her entire body. From a few just keeping her arms stuck without being able to fire but more importantly making her feel even more like she has no escape to the current peril, to others who are teasing her tits and nipples, to even more who are focused on her ass and cunt, rubbing and kneading every sensitive inch of her body. "I-I'm not a-" She tries arguing but another tendril rubs against her lips... and she can't help but lick it.

"Oh, but you are~ I know the true you, who had a crush on me..." Sombra continues, as the tendrils start getting more aggressive. The one in her lips starting to push to enter... And Hana not being able to resist simply starting to suck it off. Unlike its robotic appearance may indicate, it's warm to the touch, using the feeder supplies to even add a nice salty taste to it. The others down her body get more aggressive, the ones at her nipples gaining suction cups and probing at her nipples while the ones on her crotch start to really rub at her lower holes, shooting the natural skin-safe lubricant she uses for her hands, now down at her entrances. "And the one who is loving it." Hana is, of course, too busy giving a blowjob to a tentacle as her entire body is attacked to even care.

"MMHHMM~💕💕" She is moaning, as she moves her head up and down. Shit, how is this, this good? She is adoring it all and she can barely control her own pleasure. And the moans grow even louder as from her lower holes, she feels the phallic tentacles moving away from the rubbing... before thick, long monsters probe against her holes. She doesn't understand why and how... but now? Now she couldn't give any more of a crap about it, trying to thrust back against those thick monstrous dicks... but given her position that isn't possible. But seeing her despair and her lust, there's no way that Sombra won't let Hana have what she wants... and with a flick of her wrist, the tentacles are pushed inside her pussy and asshole together.

Hana feels all of her three holes being filled, even more as the tentacle on her mouth gets deeper, with her feeling it sliding inside her throat. Thanks to it being a tentacle, not a dick, it has no issues getting there and pumping up and down, all the while her lower holes take down far more cock she has ever taken. She has used toys to have fun beforehand, but never something like this. And it all only improves even more as they start to vibrate. As soon as she feels the throbbing of those machines, little Hana Song reaches her climax, her eyes crossing up as she orgasms the first minute of the fucking, but Sombra is relentless. It's not just from one or two orgasms that will stop Sombra from having her fun, oh no, she is going to ravish Hana until she says stop... and with a robot cock filling her throat, that ain't happening too soon.

Hana gets the full fucking from her Mecha. All of her holes are abused, her mind almost broken, for over an hour more and more tentacles are forced inside of her. Two inside her throat, and three more inside each of the lower holes, not even talking about the ones used to spank and tease her. At one point Hana's entire world became just... orgasms and the pleasure Sombra is bringing her.

Sombra can't cum from just using tentacles, but she doesn't want it. She does take pleasure just... getting people there and also watching them be fucked. She grins as she sees how spent Hana is after the hour, pulling all the tentacles back, the Korean gamer passing out almost instantly, something she also predicted. Sombra opens the mecha up, setting up to walk away. The first part of her plan finally over, as she carries the naked gamer away. She knows that after this performance Hana will go crazy trying to introduce her to their relationship. A perfect plan... or so she thinks. So distracted with Hana she didn't even notice as a British operative who got bored flying wanted to check on her friends... and saw a lot of what happened. Lena has info on Sombra... something that is never a good thing.

[p1nkshield]

Estranged Uncle AU! Part 2

"Oh nope! No you don't!" Tim said as he reinforced the computer's defenses. This was slowly moving from being a fun little challenge to being concerning. Who ever this was was really close to fully breaching the batcomputer. Good thing Tim is so good at his job; whoever it was finally got the hint. Tim took a sip of his coffee and went back to the latest case he was looking at.

Tucker took a bite of his beef jerky in triumph. "Too fine foley has done it again!"

His little strategy worked. He would come in front and center with all the fanfare and popups of a hacker with a big ego while his program would sweep dirt in from the back door. While whoever was on the other side focused on his obvious, ham-fisted hacking. Sure Tucker got a little carried away but he was having fun until he was nearly uno reversed. Tucker really didn’t feel like being fully roped into whatever weird billionaire crime "Brucie Wayne" was probably knee deep in. Speaking of Tucker should probably take a look at what he managed to skim.

Now this was weird. Weapons schematics? Info on Gotham's biggest criminals and their whereabouts? Oh no no. This is not good. He really needed to warn Danny.

Danny was blearily enjoying a stack of delicious, stationary pancakes when his phone buzzed.

'RED ALERT DUDE'

'???' Danny replied.

'Bro is a weapons dealer! To like, all the baddies in Gotham!'

Tucker then sent a bunch of screenshots of the small bit of evidence he found. There was even a machine gun flamethrower combo! That one however had a note saying 'sorry jaylad, I’m vetoing this one'.

'so many questions. Who is Jaylad Danny? If you find out tell me so I can avoid them!'

"I knew it!" Danny said loudly.

"What?!? Knew what?!? What do you know?!" Clark said suddenly, dropping his fork.

"My uh history test came back.”

“Oh.”

Poor Clark might be in too deep. To err on the side of caution Danny decided he needs to find out just how deep. Time to deploy his secret weapon.

After Clark left for work Danny immediately booked it to Jazz.

“So, I didn’t like Brucie’s vibe and had Tucker look into him.”

"Danny! Try not to project your experience with one specific rich person onto every rich person you come across!"

"You say that but both times I was right about my hunch!"

Jazz frustratedly looked through the evidence until her face was pale.

"We will unpack your fear of billionaires later, first we need to save our uncle."

Clark returned from work and was met with the gentlest interrogation he’s ever experienced.

"Would you mind if I asked why Bruce was in your house?"

Oh no. Why was she asking that? She seems smart and Clark knows he's a terrible liar. Think Clark. Think.

"He uh, was there for an interview!"

Jazz just nodded. Does that mean it worked? Was that the right thing to say?

"Does Bruce usually make house calls for his interviews?"

What kind of question is that? When in doubt double down on the Brucie Wayne cover.

"I think he finds me entertaining so he kinda just does that. He's pretty eccentric but all of my most popular articles are about him so... what are you gonna do?" Clark added a shrug for good measure.

Jazz nodded again.

"We need to get him away from Clark as soon as possible."

"I was right!"

"you were right."

Part one

[klbmsw]

Robert Chapin- THIS!!!!!!

oStndeospruy80uAhl3129mce 3611a5i3airgFftc8h4atm t 1 :0r4bic70M  ·

Holyshit. Well here's a conspiracy theory for ya.

I've been wondering why Trump has allowed Elon free reign to upstage him and do what he wants. I'm sure he has to know the public has been calling Trump Elon's lapdog. And then there's the Time cover with Elon sitting behind the presidential desk. Trump should be fuming, but during Elon's press meeting in the White House, Trump just sat there like a castrated sad clown while Elon's kid told him to shut up.

But why? Why would Trump let himself be upstaged and mocked - especially by a child? He already won the election. He doesn't need Elon's money anymore.

But then Jess told me something Elon's kid said during an interview with Tucker Carlson.

When asked if Trump would win the election, the kid says "yes" and then says "they’ll never know."

https://gizmodo.com/elon-musks-kid-keeps-saying-weird...

During the election, I knew something was up when Trump began accusing Kamala for cheating in Pennsylvania. That's very specific. And historically, he only blames others for things he's doing.

As a programmer, I know anything is hackable. An 11 year old girl at the hacking convention DefCon in Vegas was able to hack into a voting booth in 10 minutes. And that was back in 2018!

And while the voting machines aren’t connected to the internet per-se, it only takes 10 minutes to pop in a USB and get out. And it just so happens there was a bomb threat in PA where they emptied the building. But it wasn’t just one building, it was 67!

Of the 67 locations, 56 were in 11 counties that voted for Joe Biden in the 2020 election, including the eight most populated. Those high-population Democratic counties include voting locations for Milwaukee, Wisconsin; Detroit, Michigan; Phoenix, Arizona; Atlanta, Georgia; and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Hacker kids do this stuff for the fun of it. Imagine if they were getting paid millions of dollars?

And now, Musk has surrounded himself with these kids who have notoriously gained access to federal records, our records, with ease.

Four hours before election results were called, Elon announced that Trump was the winner and he had an "app" to prove it.

And then, there's this... Trump is a complete idiot and actually said this out loud after the election...

"He (Musk) knows those computers better than anybody. All those computers. Those vote-counting computers," Trump told the crowd. "And we ended up winning Pennsylvania like in a landslide."

https://www.newsweek.com/donald-trump-elon-musk-voting...

"They will never know."

Trump even said repeatedly before the election, "I don't need your vote." It's a weird brag that indicated he had already won.

I had been saying Trump was going to cheat long before the election. But the comment was instantly shot down by both sides. Conservatives thought we were being hypocrites, and progressives thought we should be above Trump-style conspiracies and gracefully accept the outcome.

Looking into this now, I'm not surprised I wasn't the only one. The internet is all over this stuff.

Will this info ever come out? Will it even matter? I have no doubt Elon's guys are at the top of their game, and the only way this will ever see the light of day is if one of these guys talks.

But for right now, it's obvious to me why Trump is letting Elon do whatever he wants.

Because all it would take is for Elon to turn to a camera and say a few words to the world, "I helped Trump steal the election."

Boom.

[kandisheek]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week 2024

Smut Saturday: July 27th

Prompt: Give all the recs for those spicy fanworks that make your blood run hot or make your heart thump harder.

Smut, you say? Smut, you get. I had to really restrain myself from reccing my entire list of bookmarks, and the selections was harder than it should have been, but here are some of my favorite smut fics of all time:

-- Torque and Friction by BewareTheIdes15

The armor is his religion. And, c'mon, does anyone really expect that Tony Stark wouldn't want to have sex with his religion? He's just never found anybody before who could handle it.

-- Against The Norm by justanotherStonyfan

When Steve and Tony wake up to find that they've been captured, they assume things can't get any worse. They're wrong.

-- Good Vibrations by isozyme

Steve had sounded like he really genuinely wanted to see Tony and hear about the new robot-heart and Stark Solutions, so Tony decided that a weekend trip was worth it to see his friend in person. His friend, Tony had reminded himself. Not anything else. It wasn’t fair to Steve if Tony spent their entire visit thinking un-friend-like thoughts about him, and his muscles, and his sweet smile and his careful, firm hugs. However, Tony had a plan. All he needed to do was to tire his dick out on the way over, and he’d be fine. Fortuitously, the Mark 20 had a few brand-new bells and whistles that would help him blow off some steam before meeting up with Steve. Tony built a fucking machine inside the armor. It would be a shame if it malfunctioned in the worst possible way, at the worst possible time, in front of the worst possible person.

MORE RECS BELOW THE CUT:

-- dick drunk by mistymountainking

“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” Steve says, pulling away only a fraction of an inch to say it, a promise as deep and certain as the look in his eyes, “and you’re going to take it. Aren’t you, Tony.” Tony wants a drink. Steve gives him something else.

-- Steve's a Sensitive Boy by Unosarta

Steve's uncircumcised and no one has ever known what to do with him. Tony knows exactly what to do.

-- Exerted by orphan_account

Unabashed, self-serving, OOC porn in which Steve humps the Mark IV armor and fun is had by all.

-- Unfurl Your Gown by theladyingrey42

"I feel ridiculous." Steve scowls at his drink and pretends he's not shifting just to feel the skirt against his thighs.

-- Operation Spank Bank by fohatic

Tony really shouldn't be hacking into classified SHIELD files behind Steve's back. Steve is a SHIELD agent, now—as well as Tony's captain—and this sort of thing reflects badly on him. So why is there a locked file titled "Operation Spank Bank" on Tony's private OS? And why hasn't Steve been briefed about any such operation? The file is password protected, but Steve has an eidetic memory and has seen Tony enter it, before -- it would serve Tony right if Steve were to 'hack the hacker' and learn for himself what "Operation Spank Bank" is all about...

And two of my own fics:

-- Beating the Heat

It's too hot to do anything but lie in bed together. Steve and Tony find ways to entertain themselves.

-- Til Death Do Us Part

Steve and Tony work as stand-ins for other people's marriages. They've gotten married thirty-six times, thirty-seven if you count their own wedding six years ago, but they still enjoy it every time. The honeymoons are the best part though.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Hi! Its 02 Anon again, I have some thoughts regarding how Roblox works in canon that i've been stewing over for my oc's story.

Cough, anyways, so, 'Spawn' is technically a real thing, but its not just a plate with a symbol on it, no no, its a giant fucking orb. Yep. That's it, a spawn is just.. ORB.

Every Spawn is held up by an Atlas, a machine that holds the code and programming for that designated Spawn.

Woah? What do you mean 'every' Spawn? Theres multiple!

Yess Socko, there are multiple!

Okay, lets say every actual game in roblox is a special world in 'canon'. (We're using Meepcity as an example) Spawns listen to something called a Base Instance* or a B.I.

*A base instance is the basic layout of the code that an Atlas feeds into a Spawn. the information every base instance contains is basically just the code that the developers updatein Roblox studio.

So you're a Robloxian who lives in MeepCity, right? We know meepcity has thousands of players on it (I think it still does?) So how come its not full to the absolute brim?

Well, Spawns have the power to create other instances of the world, or servers. Each server is called a Platform, and has a designated Mod* and Spawn Shard*. So you could be living on Platform A-73* of Meepcity, and your friend could be living on Platform X-52 of Meepcity.

*A Mod is basically Roblox's version of civilians working in government jobs, and are chosen by the Spawn for every platform to maintain that platform's piece or fragment of spawn. Without it, a Platform can decay and just..not exist, and eventually infect the main Spawn, killing it.

*Platforms are labeled Alphabetically with two numbers following it to make it easier for the Admins. Usually a platform will be put into files with the following template: MeepCity, H-27

Hackers usually hack Platforms rather than base instances, as its easier and harder to notice. Sometimes, there will be Hackers who use Platforms to get to main instances however. C00lkidd for example (because he used Client-side hacks) ruined platforms and their shards of spawn, rather than the entirety of the Base Instance.

All Spawns are connected to the Main Spawn, or Respawn. Only the Admins know where the hell it is, though there have been hackers who have tried using Base Instance Spawns to get to Respawn.

Heres how it works,

Respawn > Spawn > Spawn Shards

Uhhh, I don't have many other thoughts right now, but i'll probably come back with some drawings to show what i'm talking about better :3

-02 Anon

..also it would be cool if people used this idea too, but uh, I dunno I would like some creds kek since this is more world building than headcannon. I work under @praisebethespawn if anyone wants to listen to me yap about roblox world building more lol.

This is so well thought out oh my goodness... The names the worldbuilding the t God I love this so much I can't put it into words ahhjsdhjdshfkhkjsdhfk

You absolutely cooked 02 anon, you cooked.