#my old account was hacked by a drug dealer
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mitsuwaltz · 9 months ago
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It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
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lisamorrisjulian · 1 year ago
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At almost 50 with 4 degrees the journey may just be beginning. I have an old alias name that can be retrieved running an Intelius background check under Lisa Hlavenka. The house of Taliban text is real and I can give the phone number as of being called yesterday-strong evidence of safe houses with addresses in multiple countries, down to Taskeeras and family details provided for years now. It’s taken an online art of seduction, never meeting anyone and lol don’t think I have ever broken a law.
I have refined my own tailored craft of cyber honey trapping bad bad men- likely one of the Yakoob faction Taliban. He tells me he loves me regularly and I wouldn’t give him the time of day in person….unless it took something worth sacrificing to get his iPhone SIM card out of that phone and to the closest US German military installation near Munchen, Germany where he smuggled into through the Polish border for 7K USD, which I certainly didn’t provide. He was drug smuggled out through Kandahar and claims the Taliban was holding him hostage. But I have many texts and they were all together using Sadats phone. Discussion of Darband, Peshawar, and laundry detergent devices made of special plastic. They have sent me pictures of dead children and used the chopping off arms and legs publicity stunt sending media video blaming myself. Yet the photos drive them back to me for more. I’m tough, military trained and don’t speak like a fucking snowflake to get intel, information, bank accounts, ethereum wallet addresses and anything else sought to get them turned over to the right agencies.
I’ve repeated these methods and have specifics on major illicit drug dealers see jordan999.com for his other vile side hustles. Have his Truist routing and bank account number and if I had the time I would hack the shit out of his account and transfer some to those affected by drugs and some to myself for dedication and hours building trust what they value to get the information. I spoke to a John Newkirk of Acuitus awhile back and asked if they had ever heard of a CIA spec ops girl named Jessica Sawyer? They didn’t say anything in return and I said ok same bad ass girl. And that’s the ultimate in compliments because I have a family made of millions and because they knew I was set up for CIA application as of May 2020 and had an NSA webinar I lost because of them—they have literally stolen my truck and I’m hostage at W339N6747 Log House Circle Oconomowoc, WI 53066. They have stolen everything monetarily from me since 2020 because the words Central Intelligence Agency scare the ever living shit out of them and makes me smile. That work makes someone like myself purposeful and driven and my family is terrified of it and I am remotely quarantined by them.
And they didn’t think ahead before leaving me in the family house with the account numbers to their purely selfish existence. And when I have people in the rear view mirror who could have saved 2 disabled non verbal little beautiful twins with a fraction of the half million plus annually and donate money only for tax deductions and misappropriation funds hiding—it’s time to roll. Now I have lovely CIA recruiter Mark on my phone but lol, it’s difficult to say hey uh, btw I have had really bad fucking ADD since 3rd grade, um I do outstanding legal writing, but I have really great pictures of my 49 year old tits that get the Yakoob faction on WA or Telegram instantly on video. My family is a bunch of rich sell out assholes. So uh Mark did the ummm case manager position seem like a good fit v legal? I mean you know General Mike Flynn and George Colella would vouch for me seriously. And yeah I have a NeuroQuant MRI and have a hippocampal volume that makes me an adobe cloud of algorithmic complexity that doesn’t belong in Stone Bank, WI and yeah the ADD right now is horrible remotely trapped. And if had access to a decent psychiatrist to get ADD treatment have entire legal plan in 3 steps to probably recover a million from per Se reputational damage my “sister” tried and failed miserably to not hand over inheritance. And I want settlement money now for the bullshit problems they’ve created unnecessarily and to not be on inheritance or any documentation with the names Gaeu or Hlavenka again. And hey Mark, I would be honored to meet someone like Jessica Sawyer because she understands service and sacrifice. Someone said to me at LaQuinta hotel in Fargo as I was being taught a little “dashboard” computer training, how to go through dark net with Tor, VPNs, firewalls, a guy named Pablo Mancini who thought he was funny and sent a dick picture flashing into my FB page then disappearing. But one unidentified person who knew the duress, trauma, worst possible scenarios I had endured, the Fargo Air National Guards misuse of MQ-9 drone reaper satellite fiber optics I unrigged and said Lisa, you’re a good mom. So Jessica if you had a mom who worked her ass off you had nothing cool to wear all your childhood like myself well you are a swimming success. My family never gave a shit about me and I left for USAF in 94 in aviation. They still don’t but even when it’s one good woman and you’re outnumbered by what seems like everyone constantly—-in my case have this almost one of a kind brain nobody else has. See Waukesha County Sheriff’s Department under Lisa Hlavenka it’s just strategy. Family took to falsely calling me bipolar and manic against my own doctor who laughed because he knew this was coming. And she set the police department up to mock and harass me needlessly and it’s all failing nicely. The outside of hotel hostage here looked like an FBI raid of 4 days straight and nothing happened to me although the intent was obvious. Sat calmly and smiled every time and nicknamed the dick cop Cookie Crisp online where now know he is forever nicknamed by his fellow officers.
And preceded to contact NAMI, the Waukesha County Sheriff’s Department CIT or crisis intervention team psych recognition training team. And these good folks are all slowly coming around to the fact that I think and speak similar to Spencer from CSI but I think at rate they can’t fathom. And when officer Cookie starts saying….Leeee-sa….do….you….even…..re-mem-ber my name I think to myself I don’t fucking care about your name but I remember your fat fucking out of shape douchebag attitude I could outrun at 50. And thus the last phase after trying to pull my damages settlement out of hotel trust fund here, is to get the darn ADD on track and get to a place like CIA. The officers, not Cookie, are coming around to the fact that the US IC intelligence community hires people with devastating disabilities and mental illness and that socially probably defective me lol forever has a home in these places with the world’s finest trained. I can’t fathom what I could help solve, contribute and assist with US National Security right now. Just takes a couple nude pics someday and a supportive call to say “you can do it Lisa” from the Taliban last night.
I understand this seems surreal impossible- I assure you anything is possible when you’ve survived and endured things like myself. I wish I could get to that bad ass physically trained state like Jessica Sawyer someday soon. Better yet my brain upgrade makes me one hell of an accurate shot both left and right handed. Center mass same bullseye right and left. I have even looked to going for sniper training because I love solely the challenge of the accuracy and distance. But my rights have been on hold to provide a little remedial education to a police department while being held hostage by my “family”.
Probably haven’t read one like this before. I’m not on SM much at all due to having to write motions for reasonable electronic means, tons of legal pursuance’s. Because it’s then open to go full throttle US intelligence applications and this cool cyber corporate honeytrap organization found. Happy Holidays from Stone Bank hotel hostage
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tetsurouskuro · 4 years ago
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Sweet Temptations
pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader
warnings: alcohol, swearing, violence, mentions of drugs, dom!kuroo, mafia!au haikyuu, smut, sexual tension, orgasm denial, spitting, spanking (with a belt and hand), hair pulling and other stuff i may have forgotten
word count: 9,654
tag list: @iwaqchan @myherowritings (message me if you want to be added)
a/n: forgive me father for i have sinned!! ok, so i saw THIS! picture of kuroo and all i could think about was “i need to write a mafia!au with kuroo” and here i am and oh god i hope it’s good because it sounded so good in my head and to put everything down to words is on another level!! in this story all of the characters (and you) are a bit older, around 25-ish! also, a big thank you to Sof aka @myherowritings for helping me through with this and listening to my ranting and stuff... anyways... feedback is always appreciated and i hope you guys enjoy it! <3
Synopsis: Kuroo is the grandson of Nekomata Yasufumi, from the Nekoma mafia clan. You’re the granddaughter of Ukai Ikkei, from the Karasuno mafia clan. A arranged marriage between the two of you would mean that two big mafia clans would be able to work together and get even bigger and cover more ground in Japan, but there’s only one thing stopping this from happening... Kuroo and you...
MASTERLIST!
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
Scotch whiskey in his hand, two ice cubes in the glass he twirled it around with his wrist while his other hand was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tightly as he tried to listen to Kenma, his righthand man talk about the current sales going around and how the next shipping was going for the states. Kuroo had one hell of a headache, and not because of the alcohol, no. He was anxious about meeting his boss, his grandfather; Nekomata Yasufumi.
“Kuroo, are you even listening to me?” Kenma sighed at his boss and best friend.
“No.” He answered bluntly, but truthfully. Not looking at the man in front of him.
“What's the matter? We need to get the shipping out soon and there's still a lot of people who haven't paid up our dealers.”
Kuroo opened his eyes, looked at Kenma as he drowned the scotch, the whiskey burning his throat, making his abdomen warm from the liquor. Taking a deep breath, he spoke calmly to Kenma.
“Don't worry about me and send Lev to the dealers. You can always trust a Russian around these kinds of things.” Kuroo stood up from his seat behind the big mahogany desk and walked around it to stand in front of his friend, placing his left hand on Kenma's left shoulder. “Fix it. I have some matters to take care of.”
“Of course, boss.”
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
Knocking on the big wooden door, he heard his grandfather speak, giving him the go to come in. Opening the door, Kuroo walked in, his legs carrying him inside with confident steps. The room was beautifully decorated. On the left wall was a built-in bookshelf. Books recorded back to the early 1700-century. To the right was a wine-red leather sofa, in front of it a rectangular coffee table. In the far corner of the room was a 1600-century Italian old-world globe bar. It stood open and two glasses were missing.
Looking in front of him, his grandfather was sitting behind a similar mahogany desk that he had in his office. Two chairs stood in front of the desk. Walking over Kuroo unbuttoned his suit jacket and took a seat in one of them, sighing in the process. Nekomata watching his only grandson, he could tell that the young man in front of him was stiff.
“Relax, son. What are you so worried about?”
“Ojii-chan,” was all Kuroo spoke. Nekomata placed a tumbler in front of him and Kuroo, each glass was half full.
“I didn't call you to talk business son. I wanted to talk to you about the Ukai's.” This made Kuroo perch up.
“Oh?”
“You know that you're marrying Ukai Ikkei's granddaughter in a couple of weeks, right?”
“Yeah, I know. It's an agreement our parents made before they died.” Both yours and Kuroo's parents had died when both of you were 5 years old, him being 7. Both Nekomata and Ukai did not want their grandchildren to be put in any foster home, so they took you in.
“Correct.” Nekomata pushed one of the half full glasses to Kuroo and both men brought them up to their lips, taking a sip. Kuroo started to think about his fiancée. Did she like whiskey or brandy? Truth to be told, he did not care. It also showed how little he knew about his soon-to-be wife. He did not know anything significant about her, other than her name and birthday. Everything else, Ukai Ikkei had kept buried. There were no pictures of you anywhere. No social media accounts or driver license. Nothing. You were like a ghost to him. If he did not know any better, he would've thought you didn't exist.
But it made sense, though. Kuroo would have done the same if he had a daughter. Family was everything. It was one thing his grandfather had drilled into his and the other members heads since they were children.
“There has been some change of plans. She's on her way here now.”
“What?”
“You heard. Ukai and I talked and come to the agreement that she should come here now and the two of you should get to know each other.” Kuroo didn't want to get married. He didn't want to marry you. He wanted to have the freedom of not being tied down to one woman.
But he also wanted to honor his family. Mostly his grandfather. Nekomata Yasufumi had done everything he could for Kuroo. At the age of 5, he had learned the truth about what his family was doing. At the age of six, he had learned how to fire of a gun, being skilled already at that young age. But most importantly, he had learned that blood is thicker than water. Family was everything. Absolute.
“You need to stop fucking that whore you bring around so much,” this made Kuroo smirk. Natasha, the whore Nekomata was talking about was the girl Kuroo had by his bed to pleasure him. She wasn't good looking, or smart for that matter, but that wasn't why Kuroo kept her. She had a good throat and a nice cunt.
“I'll get rid of her. I know what our agreement says.”
“Infidelity. Keep that snake in your pants.” Kuroo laughed at his grandfather.
“If I have to throw a paper bag over her while I fuck her, then I'll do it, Ojii-chan.”
“End it, now.” Kuroo stands up and throws back the rest of his whiskey.
“I will. When is she here?”
“They're already on the road, so approximately three hours. Don't be late.”
“I won't.” Kuroo stands up and is just about to leave when Nekomata hands him a big file.
“Read it. Yamamoto broke through their firewall and got a hold of their records.” Kuroo smirks at his grandfather and exits the room. The day couldn't get any better now.
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
“Yuu, what are you doing?”
“Huh? Oh! I'm playing a game.”
“Now? You're supposed to read the map!”
“Well, last time I checked it was still 5 miles left until the next exit!”
“Guys. Please I'm trying to read back here...”
“Sorry boss!”
Sighing at the two men in the front seat, you skimmed through the files that your grandfather had handed you (he and his goddamn files). There it was all the information about your future husband and the rest of his family.
“I can't believe Nekoma almost tripled their profits in less than a year,” you spoke loudly. Not really expecting one of the two men in the front seat to answer.
“They've also somehow gotten their drugs into Nohebi territories. Mexico, Russia, and the damn States. They have networks going through most of East Asia, those city boys.” Tanaka states and you laugh at his nickname for the Nekoma.
“Soon it'll be yours too, boss,” Nishinoya turns around in his seat to look at you and gives you reassuring smile.
“That's if he accepts the last-minute change in the contract,” you answer him back.
“You mean, where you demand to be kept informed and in agreement with his future decisions involving the business?” Tanaka laughs. “It'll be interesting to see his reaction.”
“It will be indeed. I allowed them to hack into our records also earlier today.” The men laugh at that. Not because it's funny, no. They laugh because Nekoma thought they had you now. Or so they thought.
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
“I'm telling you boss, they won't dare step another foot in our territory again,” Lev spoke as he took a sip of his can of soda.
“Good. Anything else? I need to get going soon. Kenma you're in charge while I'm gone.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Lev asked while Kenma just nodded as he read through some information Yamamoto had sent him earlier on his phone, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“Family business. If the Nohebi try anything else, you know what to do. No need to hold back.” Kuroo spoke with an even voice as he pulled on his suit jacket.
“By the way, boss. Are you friend with the Fukurodani boss?” Yaku spoke from his spot on the leather sofa.
“Yeah. Grew up with him. Why?” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow at the short savage.
“There's a file he sent us.”
“I'll read through it later,” Kuroo said and walked towards the door and said goodbye to the group that had formed in the basement of the hidden base. He walked to the underground garage and unlocked his jet-black Audi R8, taking a seat and speeding to the exit. Once he had turned and driven for 5 minutes, there was an incoming call, he simply connecter it to the car Bluetooth.
“Ojii-chan, I'm on my way.”
“Hurry. They're already here.”
“I figured. I'm 15 minutes away.” Hanging up, Kuroo let out a big sigh. He was not looking forward to this meeting. He wasn't looking forward to meeting you. He didn't want a wife. Yet, he wanted to know what you looked like. He was a little intrigued. He was about to spend the rest of his life with you.
Pulling up to the private road that led to the Nekoma mansion he parked the car next to a big SUV and got out. Walking towards the stairway that led him inside, he opened the door and walked in, announcing his arrival. He could hear chatter and he followed the sound of the voices, leading him into the dining room. Walking in he is met with his grandfather, a tall muscular man with a buzzcut, a short but also muscular man. The shortest had black hair, ruffled upwards. A tiny tuft of his hair falls over his forehead and is bleached dirty blond. Both men looked dangerous and he knew they were your bodyguards.
His eyes then travel to find yours and his breath hitches. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. From where he stood, he could tell you were perfection. From your wavy, (y/h/c) hair, flawless skin, and deep (y/e/c) eyes, to your perfect hourglass figure. The knee-length black dress hugged each and every one of your curves. But your ass – fuck. It was like your lips were demanded to be kissed, and Kuroo's cock demanded to have his way with you right then and there.
“It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm Kuroo Tetsurou,” Kuroo's eyes never leaving you. As if it only were the two of you there.
“Pleasure's all mine. You're taller than I expected.” You laugh. “I'm (y/n) (y/l/n).”
“6'2 to be exact, but who's counting.”
“Tanaka. Nishinoya. Could you leave us alone so we can go over the contract?”
“Ojii-chan?”
“Gentlemen, if you would follow me,” Nekomata speaks and Kuroo watches as the men exit the dining room, watching their backs disappear. Turning his head, he sees that you are watching him. His eyes are cold, his hazel orbs looking into yours. His facial expression is narrow, you can't read this man at all. You just stand there, watch this beautiful man in front of you and wonder what type of person he is. Is he brutal as the words are said about him back in the Miyagi prefecture?
Kuroo turns around and walks to the bar and pours himself a drink. Without turning to look at you he asks, “Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.” You answer him back, moving your legs to the windows. Watching and taking in the scenery. Soon this would be your new home, and behind you stood your future husband. Your fiancée, who you didn't know anything about and that was scary for you. It was one thing dealing with weapons and drugs, those were materials that you could handle and knew HOW to handle. This, Kuroo Tetsurou, was different. He had a brain, heart and soul for himself.
“How much are you involved in the business?” Kuroo speaks, turning around you see that he has taken a seat by the bar. Scanning him up and down, the black three-piece Giorgio Armani suit sits tightly around his thick thighs, arms and shoulders. The white button-down shirt is tight against his chest and abdomen, and the dark red tie is completing the look, making him look edible. He is leaning back in his seat; his elbows are bracing his weight as he slowly sips his liquor and watches you as he does it. Your panties are suddenly very, very damp but you would not let him see you this effected by just his looks. Composing yourself you answer his question.
“I oversee the weapons and drugs that come in and out of all of Miyagi. I am also in charge of selling the weapons to potential businesses, but also to send out threats and deal with any problem that may occur. It's also I who holds the annual gala and fundraising events that occur here in Tokyo for my grandfather’s business.”
“Wow. Impressive. For a woman.”
“Excuse me?”
“But you don't go out and handle clients?” Kuroo ignores your little outburst and questions you further.
“Oh. I do that too, Kuroo.”
“Interesting,” his glass is empty, and he sets it down on the bar, stands up and walks over to you. Even with your 5” heels he's still towering over your small frame. “Shall we sign the papers?”
“Have you read through the contract?”
“I've read it so many times I've memorized it now. Just sign the contract.”
“I've made some changes. You should re-read it.” Walking towards the table where the paper was lying, he picked it up and scanned the two lines that had been changed.
“You're kidding,” he snickered. “You're asking to basically babysit how I run my business?”
“Ah-ah. We are not married yet. It will be ours or there's no deal, so Kuroo Tetsurou, sign the paper and rule over both the Karasuno and Nekoma or leave it and there's no deal.” Stunned. His facial expression turns to pure hatred. To think that you were a witch. He was angered, his cock was hard, and he wanted to fuck some sense into you on the dining table.
Picking up the pen, he signed his signature next to yours. Kuroo agreed because of the honor he has for his family and wanted to please his grandfather. Yes, he would have liked you to be a wife that stayed at home, who cooked and cleaned. A wife he could fuck whenever he felt like it. But the mere thought of having you with him. Killing people together and seeing a ruthless side of you made his cock twitch in excitement.
“If you for a second think I'm gonna listen to you. You're wrong. You think you got power, but so do I so all I'm gonna say is game on, Kuroo Tetsurou.”
In mere seconds Kuroo had grabbed you, pushing you against the nearest wall. One hand bracing both of your wrists above your head and his other holding you by the throat – hard enough so you would not escape, but not hard enough so he's choking you.
“First, your joke?” he spoke, panting in your face like some lion who's about to jump his prey. “Not funny.”
“Second,” slowly lifting his hand around your throat so he's holding your cheeks now. His thumb brushed over your lips. “The very moment that ink touched that fucking paper, you were mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to fucking command, and mine to put in your fucking place.”
“And third,” he crashes his lips to yours brutally. Your body loving the sensation, but your brain screaming for you to stop him. He pulls away and continues talking. “You're gonna stop this macho behavior, sit at my side and you stay beautiful, like a lady.”
He crashes his lips against your again – sealing this deal with a kiss. Again, he pulls away and you stared at him wide-eyed. “Are you finished?”
“Not quite. I don't think I'll ever be finished with you, (y/n).” Pulling your head back and smashing it against his so he tumbles back, you gently massage your wrists at the friction, also hating the feeling of missing his body against yours.
“Touch me again and kiss me again without my permission and I'll put a bullet between your eyes when you sleep, got it?”
“Don't boss me around and throw some empty threats at me, kitten. I'll be the one who rules when we're married. You'll obey me and listen to me, got it?”
He leaves the room, slamming the door after him as he leaves. Seconds later Tanaka and Nishinoya rushes in. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I'm fine.” If Kuroo, for one second thought he had won, he was wrong. You were just getting started.
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
A week later you had moved your things from Miyagi all the way to Tokyo, your new home. And of course, you'd moved in into the Nekoma mansion. You had gotten your own room, which you were thankful for.
When you arrived at the mansion after all the moving staff had fixed everything around for you, you didn't expect Kuroo to be waiting for you, in your room and asking how your trip went.
“Good. I thought you only cared about your company?” Closing the door and crossing your arms over your chest you watched as he stood straight, walking with confident towards you.
“I'm not that much of an asshole.”
“You kind of are though.”
“Watch it, or I might lock you up in the basement.” The man was in front of you now, his tall frame confident and a smirk on his face. You wanted to punch it away.
“Is that how you cats treat your woman?”
“No. It's how I treat my woman when she doesn't listen to me.” This sent shivers down your spine and left your panties damp. This ruthless behavior that he had was getting dangerous. It was making your head spin, almost like you were losing consciousness.
“What makes you think I won't be able to get out?”
“Oh, I know you'll be able to get out, kitten. I just don't think you'd appreciate the outcome of it.”
“What do you know? Maybe I like getting spanked and tortured in your chambers,” just as those words left your lips his face is in front of yours.
“Is that something you want to happen?” You looked into his hazel eyes and gulped. “Because I can make it happen kitten. Just say the word.”
“Brush that smirk off of your face before I punch you in the face,” you pull him away, but the man barely moves. Just as he's about to say something there's a knock on the door. The door opens and a tall man with light grey hair walks in.
“Excuse me boss, but they're waiting for you in the basement.”
“Thanks Lev, I'll be right there.”
“Wait, what's going on?” You watched as the man, Lev, leaves the room and closes the door behind him.
“Nothing for you to worry about, kitten. I'll see you tonight,” he leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek as he straightens up, turns around and heads to the door.
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, tonight. Dinner. You and me. 6PM. Don't be late.” He opens and exits the door, without uttering another word. Leaving you standing in the middle of your room, staring at the door and wondering what just happened. You were irritated, but also hot and bothered. How was tonight gonna end?
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
Walking down the stone staircase that would lead you to the patio where Kuroo was waiting for you in high heels was a challenge, but you were no woman that takes them off. You accepted every challenge that came your way.
You decided to wear a off-shoulder floor length black dress with a side slit. Your hair pulled into a tight ponytail and some nude smokey eye makeup, making you look like the boss that you were.
When you reached the patio, Kuroo was sitting by the far end of the table and waiting. His eyes locked on the phone as he kept typing something. The sound of a chair being pulled back made him look up and lock eyes with you. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of you.
A young girl, probably working for Kuroo had pulled out the chair for you. You took him in as you sat yourself down. Dress shoes (probably), black pants, a black button-down shirt, the first button undone and a suit jacket. If you thought you were hot and bothered before, your panties said a completely different story now as they were drenched.
“You look beautiful, kitten.”
“Thanks. You look rather dashing yourself, Kuroo.” He smirked at you and lifted two fingers, signaling for the girl to leave you two alone. Once she leaves, Kuroo takes a sip from his glass, his eyes gazing into yours.
“So, Kuroo. Are you gonna tell me where you went earlier?”
“It's nothing for you to worry about. I handled it.”
“It doesn't matter. If we're gonna get married and rule this 'empire' together you need to meet me halfway.”
“I don't have to do a thing. I tell you what I want to tell you and if I want to tell you.” Standing up, he walks towards the other end of the table where you're sat and stops at your side, slowly lowering his head so his lips are brushing against your ear. “And one of these days, you won't be able to say no to me. I'll fuck you so hard that you want me to stop.”
Gulping, squeezing your thighs together and the way his voice and words were making your body shiver of excitement, but also wanting to punch him for thinking he had some kind of mastership of you. Taking a deep breath, you collected yourself to answer him.
“I want in on this too. If someone is messing up with my business, or my stuff I want that sucker to feel pain because no one fucks with me; not even you. So, you're gonna start treating my like your wife and business partner or I'll find that marriage agreement and rip it apart.”
“And what would happen if I don't agree with you?” His breath hits your neck as you can feel his breathing beside you. His lips come down on your neck and you close your eyes for a brief second, loving the sensation, but opening them fast as you can't let him have his way. Not yet anyway. You need to stand your ground and show him that you're just as stubborn as he is.
“If you don't agree. I'll break off this fucking arrangement and then burn you to the ground.” Turning your head to look at him, you see him smile at you. His face mere inches from yours.
“One of Nohebi's men were caught trying to steal some of my cocaine and Lev, the man you saw earlier, caught him and tied him up in the basement. I beat him to the pulp, cut off two of his fingers and then sent him to his boss, with a sweet message.”
“And I couldn't be there because?”
“Because this was my shit to handle and I had something else I wanted to do before I did that.”
“Which was?”
“Gimmie your hand,” reaching out your left hand for him, he pulls on a big fat juicy diamond engagement on your ring finger.
“Buying that. I'm not liking this with letting you in on my business, 'kay? This is all new to me, but I will slowly let you in. Not entirely, but eventually everything that's mine... will be yours. Ours.”
“Kuroo, I-”
“But listen to me carefully. Now that you have that ring it means that you are mine. All mine. You will listen to me and do as I say. When I want to fuck you, you will let me. If you do as I say, I will reward you and... I will also give you what you want. In return.”
He pulls away from you and you watch as he turns around and walks back to his seat.
“Now, (y/n). Are you hungry? 'Cause I am starving.”
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
“I'm going to New York tomorrow to do some business with a friend of mine. I'll be back on Friday.”
“I can't come with you?”
“No. Not this time.”
Sighing at him you nod your head. You accept; for now. “Okay.”
You feel him push your back against the door to your room, both of your hands behind your back, him holding them in place as his lips are just inches from yours. “Good girl. Finally, you listen to me. Why you gotta be so disobedient?”
“'Cause life would be boring for you if I wasn't,” you manage to squeeze those words, just in time for his lips to crash against yours. Your head tilted back as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. Tasting both the liquor and food from him. His body comes closer and you can feel his rock-hard cock press against your lower abdomen.
“I am the only one who gets to touch you and make you come, you got that?” You just nodded your head.
Good. Now you should get some sleep. I'll see you when I get back.” And just like that, he leaves you, leaving one last kiss on your lips. Not wanting to seem totally desperate for him, you open the door to your room, walk in and close it, leaning your back against it. Feeling your own arousal, you decide to do something about it. Walking towards your bedside table, you open your drawer and pull out your purple dildo and climb onto the bed.
If you can't have Kuroo's cock now, at least you could imagine it was him fucking you instead of that dildo of yours.
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
The next morning you get woken up by the birds chirping outside your bedroom window. The sun shines through the curtains and hits you in the face, making you scrunch your face in disgust; you were not a morning person.
Stretching yourself on the big king-size bed you hear some strange sound and look to your left, seeing a white-yellowish envelope. Sitting up, you reach for it and open it, pulling out a paper, a handwritten note and start reading.
Good morning kitten, the fact that you touched yourself yesterday without my permission has my blood boiling. I told you that only I am allowed to touch you and make you come.
So, for being so disobedient, I've taken all of your toys and burned them all up. No need for you to have them when you have me, right?
Be a good girl and listen to your fiancé, if you want to come just call me and I'll fix it for you.
If I find out that you've been touching yourself without my permission again, I'll punish you when I get back. I've got eyes and ears everywhere.
I'll see you on Friday, kitten.
That fucking bastard.
You scrunched the piece of paper and threw it on the ground. Throwing yourself off the bed and pulling on your nightgown you are just about to head to the nearest staff member when your phone rings, knowing full well who it was.
“What do you want?” You answer angrily.
“I take it you've read my letter?”
“Oh, I've read it and I'm just about to burn it.”
“Ouch, kitten. My first love letter for you and you're already breaking my heart,” you could hear his smirking on the line and wanted to punch his pretty face.
“If this is breaking your heart, then you're easily pleased.”
“Oh, kitten. I am no-where pleased. I'll be pleased when I got you on my bed and my cock deep inside that cunt of yours,” you shivered at his words and could feel a tingling sensation in your lower abdomen, knowing full well what he was doing to you. He was gonna be gone for 5 days, meaning he had 5 days to tease you and if he continued like this then these 5 days were gonna be hell, especially if you could not touch yourself.
“You'll have to wait a long while for that to happen, Tetsurou.”
“The way you say my name kitten, next time you'll be screaming it,” a little laugh escapes his lips. “I need to go, just arrived at the jet. Don't miss me too much, when I get back, I'll have my way with you.”
He hangs up and you throw yourself on the bed. If you thought you could deny him much longer, you were dead wrong. You wanted him yesterday. You wanted him today; you wanted him now.
A knock on the door woke you up from your Kuroo thoughts. “Come in.”
The door opened and in walked one of your closest friends.
“Oh my god Daichi,” you jumped out of bed and into his arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet everyone? Just kidding. The old man sent me here to keep an eye on you.”
“Keep an eye on me? Why?”
“To make sure that the wedding happens. We all know how you've treated your other boyfriends.”
“I'm not gonna kill this one, okay?”
“I believe it when I see it,” Daichi laughs and you pout at him. “How's he? Kuroo?”
“Ugh, he's a sexist. A possessive and dominant bastard that looks down on woman.”
“But? I feel like a but is coming.”
“BUT... he's a sexy motherfucker that is teasing me and giving me all of these sexual desires that I haven't felt before and I've never wanted to fuck and kill someone as fast and hard as with him.”
“Seems like you've got it under control then?”
“Yeah. He's on his way to New York and will be back on Friday.”
“And when he gets back? What are you gonna do?”
“Nothing. Or maybe. No, I don't know. These emotions and feelings that are erupting from me is something new. I want him, all the love and hate. But I'm also scared because opening up to someone is dangerous in our business.”
“Oh, I know darling, but he's in this business as well and he's worse than you. I've met Kuroo before with the old man and when he loved and cares for something, he puts all of his heart into it. So, if something were to happen to you, he'd be sure to put a bullet on that bastard.”
“He thinks I'm his property, like I'm not a human being.”
“(y/n), we're the mafia and we protect our own and soon you'll be each other’s. He's gonna be your husband soon. Accept it.”
“What am I gonna do then? When he gets back?”
“You'll have to wait and see.”
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
It had gone two days since you last saw and spoke to Kuroo. You thought of him all the time. You even started to wear a elastic band around your wrist and snapped it every time you thought of him, but you had started to turn red because you were basically snapping your wrist all the time so you gave that up pretty quickly.
Now, you stood in front of your ensuite, brushing your hair and getting ready for bed. It was 1 am in Tokyo. 12 pm in New York. You didn't want to call him. Calling him meant that you thought about him, which you did but, it was different.
The sound of your phone vibrating against the marble counter made you jump as your thoughts had wandered to him once again.
“Hello?”
“Kitten. Why aren't you sleeping?”
“I was just getting ready for bed, but a very disturbing person called me, and I wanted to see what he wanted.”
“Sounds like an interesting man to me.”
“I'm sure he does... what do you want?”
“There should be a package coming for you about... now.” A knock on your bedroom door could be heard and you walked out of the ensuite and opened the door. There on the ground was a white package with a black ribbon around it.
“What's this?”
“Open it.”
“I will. But what is it?”
“Open it. You'll see, kitten.” Rolling your eyes, you closed the door behind you and placed Kuroo on speaker and threw the phone on your bed, the white package beside him. Pulling on the black string, the ribbon came undone and you lifted the lid and gasped.
“Kuroo... this is...”
“Put them on.”
“What? No!”
“Do. It.”
“Kuroo...”
“(y/n)... do as I say.”
You sighed and finally gave in. You pulled your panties down your legs and then put on the new ones. Kuroo had someone deliver a pair of vibrating panties. “Now what?”
“Now. Lay down on the bed. Put me on speaker and then place the phone beside.” You climbed onto the bed and did as he said.
“Done.”
“Good. Now kitten, tell me about your day.”
“My day? I went with Tanaka, Nishinoya and Dai- OH GOD!” Suddenly the panties started to vibrate.
“Hm? What was that?” The vibrating stopped and you gasped. That little fucker.
“I said. I went with Tanaka, Nishinoya and Daichi to the mall and bought some-fuck, Jesus, shit... s-some dresses.” The vibrating started again. The sensation hitting your clit perfectly, making your hips buck at the feeling. But also, wishing it was his fingers instead of some material rubbing against your sensitive bud.
“Some dresses huh? What kind of dresses?”
“Pretty ones.” You answered bluntly. You didn't want to talk. You just wanted to feel. And come.
“Kitten...” Kuroo's voice sounded dark and the vibrations stopped once again. You instantly missed the feeling. “Behave.”
“They're all different. Long, mid-thigh, short and so on. You'll see them when you get back.”
“Oh, will I?” Kuroo started the vibrations again, but this time he had increased the speed, making you moan out.
“Fuck.”
“Does it feel good, kitten. Do you want more?”
“Fuck, yes,” you answered him with a moan. Your hands fisting the duvet cover, eyes closed, mouth open and your head thrown back. Your back slightly bent and your knees pulled up. You weren't near close but as for having been horny for at least a week now, you just wanted to come. The release you got on the night before he decided to burn all your sex toys hadn't satisfied you enough.
“What do you want, kitten? Tell me.”
“Fuck, I want you. I want your cock.”
“Oh? Really?”
“Yes, really. You dumb fuck. Oh god, Kuroo.” He increased the speed once more and now you felt how your lower abdomen was tightening. “So close.”
“Good kitten. Now you've made me a very happy man. You wanna come?”
“Fuck, yes. Let me fucking come already.” The pressure started to keep getting stronger and stronger.
“I don't think so, kitten.” He turns it off. The pressure in your lower abdomen slowly started to fade but you still wanted to come. You didn't give a fuck anymore.
“What the fuck, Kuroo?”
“I'm the one who decides when and how you come. Don't forget that.”
“I'm not taking orders from you. Stupid sexist of a man. If you're not gonna finish it for me, I'll do it myself.”
“(y/n). Don't. You. Dare.”
“Or what? Are you gonna punish me? When? You're not here. I'll finish myself off without you.” Grabbing your phone, you clicked him. Putting an end to the call.
He had the audacity to boss you around, to think he could decide for you. No. You weren't going to listen to him. You pulled off the panties he gave you and stomped to the bathroom and threw them in the trash-can.
Stomping back to the bed, you pulled away the duvet cover and climbed into bed. Looking at your phone you saw a text message from him, and a picture.
Opening the message, you bit your lower lip, seeing what he sent you.
On the picture was Kuroo. He was stood in front of a mirror in just his briefs. Grabbing his cock through the briefs, seeing as it was hard underneath the material. Just from the picture you could tell that he was big, and that made your mouth water.
Underneath the picture was his message.
I'm so hard for you kitten.
I'M WET FOR YOU. You wanted to reply but didn't. You were still pissed off and you wouldn't let him get away easily. You had a plan how to get back at him. Alas, he was gonna kill you for it.
≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪
It was finally Friday. You had put on one of the new dressed that you'd bought. It was a short golden cocktail dress with a bare back. Your hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. A pair of high heels and a makeup look that suited the outfit made you look fuckable.
You had asked Kiyoko and Hitoka to go clubbing with you, which they didn't say no to.
Also, you knew Kuroo would be home late and when he would find out you were out clubbing and other men being able to see you looking like that, he was going to murder either you, the men, or both.
Besides having the two girls with you, you also had Daichi and Tanaka at your side as bodyguards. One thing your grandfather always told you was to always bring them with you whenever you could. Walking up to the club, the bouncers didn't ask for your name, they just moved aside and let you and your company inside. You could feel the ground shaking from the loud music that was blasting from the speakers. It was crowded, as expected for a Friday night. "Be careful boss," Tanaka spoke to you and you smiled at him.
"I will. I'll kill anyone who tries to lay a hand on me." "We know. But be careful," Daichi spoke next. "(Y/n)? Let's go dance," Kiyoko said and interrupted the conversation between the three of you, grabbed yours and Hitoka's hand and pulled the both of you into the dancefloor. The three of you stood in the middle of the dancefloor and moved your bodies to the music. After about 20 minutes it was time for some drinking. Hitoka went to look for an empty table while Kiyoko went to fetch some drinks. Just as you were about to join Hitoka you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around you see a tall man, well-built and quite good looking. But he wasn't Kuroo. "Hi, I promised myself that if you were ever to be alone, I'd come and say hello cause you might be one of the prettiest woman I've ever laid eyes on." "Thank you, that's very... sweet. Of. You." Your voice trailed off as behind the man you could see a face you hadn't seen in a while and that face was staring at yours. Kuroo stood by the exit door, both arms by his side and both of his fists clammed together tight. He was angry. He was fuming. He was seeing red. And, to make matters ever worse. You grabbed the stranger by his neck, pulled him down so you could say into his ear "let's dance". Grabbing the strangers hand you pull him farther into the dancefloor, farther away from Kuroo and on queue the song "Love Sex Magic" by Ciara and Justin Timberlake starts playing and you decide to start dancing sexually with the man. Your ass is rubbing teasingly at the stranger’s crotch as his hands are placed on your hips. But they leave you soon and you know why, because soon the stranger is being pulled away from you and you're being dragged across the dancefloor and to the exit. The cold air hits your body as Kuroo is still dragging you until you reach his car. He opens the passenger seats door. "Get in." "I think not. I'm here with my friends and I wanna party, so thanks but no thanks." "(Y/n). Get. In. The. Fucking. Car. NOW!" You decide to listen because; a) he's really pissed and b) your plan had worked out wonderfully. Taking a seat, you buckle up as Kuroo slams the door shut and walks around to sit in the driver’s seat. Kuroo quickly starts the car and speeds away. He drives in silence. The both of you are keeping your mouths shut and it's for the better. "Kuroo, I-" "Shut up. Keep quiet. Don't fucking talk to me right now," he interrupts you. His knuckles turning white from the hard grip he's having on the steering wheel.
You sat quiet in your seat, looking out as you passed the city. The city lights shining on the road. But it was when Kuroo drove into a underground garage that had you stiff in your seat. Where was he taking you? He parked the car and got out quickly. He walked around to your side and opened the car door for you. "Out." You placed both of your feet on the ground and got up, doing it seductively, almost flashing your panties to him. Once you were stable enough on the ground, he grabbed you hand, hard, and pulled you away with him. He was walking fast, a little too fast for your liking. "Kuroo, slow down I can't walk that fast in these heels." "Oh, I'm sorry," you feel yourself being pushed against the cement wall of the garage, his hand around your throat. "Maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to dress up as a whore and go acting like one in one of my clubs." Even though you should be scared, you're not. You're wet by this action of his. The grip around your throat isn't hard, just firm. Like he's holding you in place. You're breathing heavily, your chest moving up and down. Your hard nipples are pressing against the fabric of your dress. "Your club?" Are the words that escape your lips. "Yes. My club. Do you know the frustration I got when I land and get a phone call from my staff there telling me that my fiancée just walked in wearing nothing but a garment around her," his free hand travel from inside your thighs to your core where you want him to touch you. "Would've you have liked anyone else touching you here, is that it?" His fingers teasing you outside of your panties. "Did you want that man touching you, is that it kitten? Or were you thinking that his hands were mine?" Now his fingers flick slightly at your sensitive bud outside of your panties. "N-No," you moan out. "No?" He withdraws from you and starts walking towards the entrance of the building, his hand in yours. You reach a small elevator, inside there's a keypad, he presses some numbers and the doors starts closing. There's tension in the air that could be cut with a knife. You release his hand and cross your arms over your chest and keep looking at him, taking him in. The suit he's wearing looks so good on him. Your eyes travel down to his crotch. You can see the outline of his hard cock.
"Are you just gonna stand there and watch?" The elevator starts to move up, the numbers getting higher in the small screen both above the doors and on the keypads. You still haven't answered him. You still keep looking at his crotch seductively. Kuroo starts moving towards you. You stand still and watch his feet get closer until they're in front of you. "Do you wanna touch it?" You slowly move your head upwards and look into his eyes. They're very intense and hard. Dark even. If looks could kill... Placing your hands on his hips you move them upwards to his chest, feeling his warm and hard muscles underneath, still not breaking eye contact. You slowly back away, being free from him for a second before he pulls you towards him; chest against chest. "Kitten... when your entire life is based on taking everything by force, it's hard to react in a different way. Especially if someone is taking away a pleasure you really desire..." His breath hits you in the face. "Don't provoke me." "Or what?" He presses you hard against the elevator mirror. Both of your hands above your head, his hand holding them in place while his other hand is grabbing your ass cheek. His tongue is invading yours and you welcome it, letting his tongue dance with yours. Tasting whiskey and mint from him. Suddenly the elevator car stops and the pulls away and sets you free, but only to grab your hand and pull you inside an apartment and slam you onto the wall beside the elevator. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to feel your legs for days." "K-Kuroo," you moan out as he starts kissing your throat. "When I fuck you, I want you to call me by my name." His words send shivers down your spine, making your nipples perk harder than before. Kuroo's hands grabs the hem of your dress and rips it apart and throws it behind him, the golden garment landing on the floor. "Kuroo, what the actual fuck?" "I'll buy you a new one," his lips travel to your naked breasts and he starts sucking on your right nipple, making you moan out and throw your head back against the wall. Suddenly he has you in the air and you wrap your legs around his waist, his arms holding you in place and his mouth back on yours as he walks you towards the living room and then into a kitchen. One of his arms lets you go and he throws something, or some things off the kitchen island, the sound of glass breaking on the floor. "I'll have someone clean that up later," he places you on the island and pushes your chest down so you're lying with your back against it. His arms grab your hips and pulls them towards him, your ass being on the edge of the island. "Now... What should we do with you?" He asks with a smirk on his face, his gaze being planted on your pelvis and going down. His fingers trace the edge of your panties, teasing you. Suddenly there's a a sharp dig in your hips and the sound of your panties being torn apart. "You won't be needing them anyway," his lips starts kissing around your areola. "Stop teasing me and just fuck me already," you moan out. Grabbing a hold of his messy hair in your hands. "You don't deserve being fucked just yet," he answers and grabs your thighs and starts kissing down your abdomen and to your core.
His tongue flick at your sensitive bud, making you jump from the friction; both good and bad. Usually, you didn't let men go down on you, you saw it as a type of weakness. A weakness you didn't want and liked showing. But now, here you were spread out naked on a kitchen island while Kuroo sucked on your clit making you shiver, moan and pull on his hair and wanting more. More than you've ever wanted before in your life. Losing control, a control you wanted back but also didn't. "F-Fuck. Kuroo. I- Stop. Shit," you sounded like a confused mess. A mess that Kuroo loved, but he wanted you messier. "Stop? Why? Because you can't control your own body? Oh, kitten... you lost control over your body the minute you became mine." Kuroo's tongue licks up and down your slit, spreading your juices all over. Tasting every bit of you. He then pulls back, and his thumb start to do slow circular motions on your clit. "What do you want, kitten?" "More. I want more." "More of what?" "More of you." "And who am I, kitten? Tell me," his thumb presses a little harder on your clit. Your back arching as the sudden pressure developing in your lower abdomen. "Fuuuuck. I-. Dammit Kuroo." "Not the answer I'm looking for," he stops paying attention to your clit. He stops paying attention to you at all. He just looks at you, waiting for his answer. "Do you always get what you want?" "Isn't it obvious that I do? Now answer my question. Who am I?" "Well. You're a lot of things. An asshole. A sadist. A sexist. A killer. A murderer. A drug lord. A possessive fucked up douche of a man." He then stands up straight and pulls off his suit jacket and throws it on the ground nearby. Then, his fingers start slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt, your eyes gazing at his fingers as they move down and suddenly, he's half naked as he discards his shirt as well. "Get off the island. Turn around and bend over. Spread your legs. NOW!" You take your time getting down, doing it so seductively as you can. His eyes watch your tits jump when you land on the floor and then quickly travel to your ass when you're bent over. "And now what? You gonna spank me?" You let out a small laugh but silence yourself when you hear him unbuckle his belt and remove it from his belt loops. "Spanking to put it mildly. Now, how many times have you disobeyed me?" "Disobeyed? Who do you think-" the harsh pain of his belt hitting your ass cheek has you both stiff and wanting more. "That's one. I think you at least deserve 5 more, kitten." His belt hits you again. And again. And again, until he's hit you 6 times in total. Your ass cheeks red from the friction of the belt hitting you. Your pussy leaking put juices from being so wet from the action. "Hands behind your back," he commands, and you obey, putting your hands behind your back. Kuroo takes the belt and tightens them around your wrists. Once he's done, he takes a step back to admire you from a distance, taking you in. Completely naked, only in those high heels that he wants you to wear while he fucks you. To stab into his lower back while his cock sinks into your folds. "Fucking perfect," he states and gets behind you again and pushes one finger inside your cunt. Your walls clamping around his finger. Wanting more. Needing more. "Fuck. Kuroo. Please." 
”Please what kitten?”
“Please, fuck me. Just fuck me already.” He adds yet another finger inside your cunt and starts pumping them in and out of you.
“Say my name, kitten. Say it.”
“Kuroo.” A slap on your ass cheek and you let out a loud moan from both his fingers giving you pleasure but also from the slap from his hand.
“Say. My. Name.”
“Fuck. Tetsurou. Fuck me Tetsu-Oh my god!” Another slap and his fingers disappear only to be replaced by his cock filling you up all the way.
“Fuck you’re so tight. I can feel you pulsing around me (y/n).” You try pulling your arms but are stopped by the belt holding them together.
“Kur- Tetsurou. Release me. Fuck you’re huge.”
“No and thank you.” He starts slowly thrusting in and out of you. The head of his cock hitting your g-spot softly, building up a pressure inside of you.
“T-Tetsurou. Shit, your cock. Oh.”
“I love it when you say my name. Say it again.”
“Tetsurou.” You moan out. One of his hands grab your ponytail and the other is placed on the middle of your back, pushing you down on the island. His grip on your ponytail tightens and he pulls on it, your head being pulled up slightly. He then starts to quicken his thrusts.
“Fuck kitten, just like that.” Kuroo’s gaze is locked on where the two of you are connected. Seeing his cock disappearing inside of you, going in and out. His cock being covered in your juices. A squelching sound being made from the friction.
“Tetsu. I’m close. Fuck I’m so close.”
“Yes (y/n). Come for me. Come all over my cock.” This does it for you. After almost a whole week of him teasing you, all the moments of sexual tension and him neglecting to make you come this is one of the biggest orgasms you’ve ever had.
“TETSUROU!” You scream. Your mouth wide open, eyes closed and tears falling from your eyes. The pleasure consumes you and you feel your legs wobble and just as you’re about to fall his arms are being wrapped around you, holding you up. Your breathing is heavy and trying to control it, as you move a little you feel him twitch inside of you.
“I’m not finished with you yet, kitten.” You gulp and release a moan as he removes himself from you. His hands go to unbuckle the belt and once you are free you rub your wrists together and slowly turn around to watch the devil in front of you. He is naked and your eyes falls on his hard member between his legs. Your tongue peeks out from your mouth and wets your lips, licking them seductively.
“C’mere,” he speaks, and you obey, walking so you are stood in front of him. Your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. His slightly bends down and picks you up, your legs wrapping themselves around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your lips connect and he walks the both of you towards his bedroom. He places you on his bed and you lie down.
“You’re fucking beautiful (y/n),” he compliments you and you slightly blush. How could this man’s words affect you this much?
His hands grab your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed, your legs in the air. He bends down and his head is between your legs. He spreads them wide open and starts devouring your opening. Your hands go and grab a hold of his black hair and watch as his mouth is covering your most private part, his eyes watching you.
“Tetsurou. Please give me your cock. I need more.” At first you think he doesn’t hear you over your moans but soon he pulls back and to your surprise he looks at your cunt and spits on it.
“You taste fucking delicious,” he doesn’t give it a second chance as he pushed himself inside of you again. You throw your head back against his bed and moan out loudly. He pulls your legs together and press them against his chest, hugging them as he thrusts hard in you, like some wild animal. The pressure in your lower abdomen coming back like a tsunami.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tetsu, I’m close again. I’m coming. I’m- I- FUCK,” and you come around his cock for a second time in just mere seconds.
“Fuck (y/n). I’m there.”
“Come inside of me.”
“(Y/N)!!” Kuroo releases his load inside of you. Milking his seed inside of you. His head thrown back, a vein of each side of his neck popping out. His mouth is slightly open as he lets out a couple of grunts from his orgasm.
After a minute or two, after the both of you have collected yourself his eyes search for your as he looks at you. Releasing your legs, he throws himself on top of you, one arm going to your lower back and lifting you up so your head is on a pillow. His head lands beside yours. The only sound in the room being the heavy breathing from the two of you. His breath is hitting you in the neck, making you shiver.
“Are you cold?”
“Oh- Um- No. Not really. Are you?”
“Me? I’m fucking sweaty and hot as hell.” You let out a laugh and can’t help but smile. His cock that is still inside of you twitch and you stop laughing.
“Your laugh is beautiful. Don’t stop.”
“Hm, well I stopped because someone twitched inside of me.”
“Oh, really?” He pulls his head up, his hazel eyes watching your (y/e/c) ones. His hips starts to move slightly.
“Mhm, Tetsu.”
“You want more?”
“Mhm, yes.” He places his forearms on each side of your head, his face being inches from yours. His lips crash against yours, him pushing his tongue inside of your mouth and you happily open and let him consume you again. If sex with Kuroo was like this, you never wanted him to stop and he didn’t.
The two of you fucked like two horny teenagers until the sun rose the next morning. After coming for what felt like the 20th time the both of you were both breathless and tired from all the fucking.
“Tetsurou. I want this to work between the two of us so please include me in everything you do, and I mean everything. I don’t want to kill you because this sex got me hooked now.”
Letting out a sigh he watched the ceiling and answers with a simple I’ll try. And that’s enough for you. He pulls you towards him, your back to his front.
“Let’s sleep. You need to recharge the energy you lost.”
“Why? Are we going somewhere?”
“No. But when we wake up, I’m gonna have my way with you again.” You gulp but smile. Closing your eyes and letting sleep consume you.
558 notes · View notes
imperiuswrecked · 4 years ago
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Spider Clones make an OnlyFans account. Peter finds out and flips in the spider group chat.
Peter: You are using my body to make money!!!
Ben: I mean I've got the mask on.
Peter: I'm not even getting paid!
Ben: It's not like anyone knows it's you.
Kaine: Oh were we supposed to keep the mask on?
Felicia: Oh I could tell it wasn't Peter. Peter's ass is flatter.
Peter: NOT HELPING FEL. KAINE WHY??? You have money! You robbed those drug dealers last month.
Kaine: Idk, Ben had an account so I got one too.
Peter: This is hell. I'm in hell.
MJ: Honestly I'd be more worried about Aunt May finding out.
Peter: Aunt May knows about Onlyfans?!
MJ: Yeah, I helped her set one up so she could subscribe to Namor's Onlyfans.
Peter: Oh. My. God.
Fel: Ben or Kaine, if I subscribe to your top tier could I request you wearing the mask on your-
Peter: I'm going to hack in and delete both of your accounts.
Ben: I've got a back up
Kaine: Sure Fel, I've got the scarlet spider mask and one of Peter's old masks.
Peter: This is happening because I'm being punished for something. I know it.
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rossodelgiorno · 3 years ago
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2020/ Chain of Fools
2020 was the year I adopted a boiler suit and gas mask as a daily uniform. The world had gone into a global lockdown to combat the COVID19 virus which meant we were only allowed to leave our house for essential reasons such as grocery shopping and exercise. When outside, we were government mandated to wear face masks to prevent the spread of the disease. They made me feel like a muzzled dog and I resented no longer being able to smile with strangers on the street. Feeling like a prisoner in his own home and under extreme stress from job insecurity, my boyfriend Jake’s amphetamine addiction began to spiral out of control.
As a result of Jake’s addiction, we had accidentally befriended a posse of drug dealers and prostitutes- bonded by our love of having a good time and a general disregard for consequence. We met Dani through a call girl friend of mine who had realised the difficulty of making a living through writing online fashion content. Dani had big brown eyes, fat, botoxed lips and dressed only in high end labels like Gucci and Balmain. Born into a wealthy family, she had acquired a taste for expensive things but lacked the work ethic to maintain this taste without selling her body for sex. Dani began to visit more throughout the lockdown to deliver Jake drugs, hidden in a bag of a groceries. One night, she played Carole King on our old vinyl player, while Jake rolled us a joint to share. I flirted with them both, knowing that it would lead to a threesome. We smoked Jake’s joint, snorted lines of cocaine off each other and then took turns going down on each other.
A week later, Dani introduced us to a crew of “script kiddies”- long haired, internet hackers with a love of mumble rap, cryptocurrency and ketamine. I made cocktails for everyone and established that one of these kids shared a mutual friend with Jake. They seemed fascinated by the genuine sexual chemistry between myself, Jake and Dani and expressed gratitude for our generous hospitality. Eventually I came to the conclusion that by associating us with this crowd, Dani had managed to successfully pray on the vulnerable- trusting junkies like us who were lax with internet security and keen for a good time. In retrospect, I wish I had known that Dani was a hustler at heart- making money in any way she could without considering the impact of her choices. At the time however, I felt like we were fully living life in the moment- something I was certain would bring me happiness, meaning and didn’t question her motives for a moment.
Ella, Dani’s best friend, had a boyish pixie cut, high cheekbones and was tall and slim. She had gradually joined in on our shenanigans, along with Mark, a dealer with a steady supply of the best gear available north of the river. We all hung out together in our plant-filled, converted warehouse listening to electronic music and sharing stories about our favourite mind-altering substances. My stories were consistently focused on MDMA. As a notoriously private person, I’d discovered MDMA helped me open up and allowed me to dance, free of fear of judgement. It had also helped Jake open up about the sexual abuse he experienced as child, a fact I doubted would have ever come up without the influence of a truth serum and something which I was certain had driven him to substance abuse in the first place.
While we laughed, chatted and danced with Dani and Mark, Ella, who claimed to be a part time poet and part-time model, entered a viral script virus onto our wireless network by requesting our wifi password. Something we provided willingly, without second thought. This meant remote access to every digital device we owned and access to all stored personal information including scanned copies of our passports and birth certificates.
The issue with Mark, despite his criminal lifestyle, was that he was excellent company. Intelligent, engaging and a DJ in his spare time- we thrived off his love of hip hop and old-school funk. Similarly, he thrived off our property location in the Inner North- close to his regular customers and discrete enough from the prying eyes of authority. We welcomed him into our home with open arms, deprived of social contact through social distancing practices enforced by the pandemic. We held COVID19 illegal gatherings where we got high off Mark’s supply, enjoyed each other’s company while Ella hacked our electronic identities. When you’re lonely, it doesn’t really matter if others are using you and you’re using them. As long as everyone is filling a clearly defined role, the maladaptive social ecosystem continues to function.
It’s unclear exactly how many international drug smuggling routes were established using our stolen online identities before Jake clued on that something wasn’t right. He told me that he had been locked out of his email account, that the speed of his phone had slowed and that he could hear clicking noises during his phone calls. He was certain that his was a breach of online security and started to question the motives of our new friends. I wrote him off as crazy, blaming his excessive use of amphetamines and the psychological effect of social isolation. I was determined to keep my online identity public, obsessed by the idea of becoming the next millennial therapist and too blinded by Dani’s beauty to believe that she would want to harm us in any way.
Eventually Jake’s distress became too extreme to ignore and he shook me violently one night, yelling at me to believe what I had assumed was a paranoid conspiracy theory. A sinking feeling in my gut became apparent when he started to coherently piece together his concerns about his online security issues. I realized that my sense of reality had been clouded by my lust for Dani and by a dark depression that had developed through my work as an essential worker during a pandemic. Based on Jake’s erratic behaviour, I knew we had to get out of the warehouse immediately, but I had no idea where to go and was fearful of drawing attention to any law-breaking activity when police presence was so prominent.
We agreed to seek refuge with our friends Trish and Rick, former 90s British ravers who had channeled their drug-fuelled benders into successful and respectable careers. I called them panicked that night, shaking and rambling about what had happened. Without hesitancy, Trish told us to come over right away. Rick’s brother back in the UK had recently killed himself and they were struggling too. Trish and Rick lived in an affluent area in the inner East which meant we needed to blend in quickly through a disguise of expensive athleisure and an almost painful sense of normality. It appeared that our efforts at disguise were successful and it seemed to result in freedom from any unusual online activity on our devices. We bought new phones, changed our phone numbers, email addresses and disconnected from the outside world for an entire week. We spoke about going to the police, however we both agreed that this would place us at too much risk to the criminal world to be a viable option.
When your online identity is stolen, you quickly start to daydream what it would be like to steal someone else’s identity. For example, what exactly would you do with those proceeds of crime? Which tropical island would you escape to, what designer clothes would you wear, which car would you drive? I quickly became entranced and jealous at the thought of this fantasy life, but then spent time reflecting on my own morality and these feelings subsided. Instead, an intense anger developed at the thought of others taking advantage of Jake and his mental illness. High on a sense of ethical superiority and new found fury, I decided to employ my favourite psychological defense mechanism, repression, to cope with my latest traumas. May you rest in peace, memory, I said to myself before engaging in my daily mediation ritual.
While repressing my consciousness, I also began to focus on the importance of social support. I knew this shit was important but didn’t fully understand until Trish brushed my hair one night, my arms too frail from fear and stress to function. Trish and Rick played familiar Britpop, drank tea and encouraged us to embrace the therapeutic benefits of music through use of the guitar and keyboard that we had brought to their house. We took turns cooking for each other, played board games and counselled each other through each personal problems, one at a time.
Jake and I stayed with Trish and Rick for two weeks until we could establish an exit plan from the city. We migrated to rural Victoria like many other Melbournians, traumatized by the lockdown. The pace in the country was slow yet calming and people genuinely seemed to care about your welfare when they inquired “How you going, mate?” After such an extended period of social isolation, many of us forgot how to interact with others. We valued and craved human connection more than ever, and yet we seemed scared of what we might connect with. We continued to develop our own deformed version of sign language to communicate through the face masks and focused on re-developing social skills that had been lost through extended disconnection.
Jake and I continued to battle through the challenges of online identity theft and the consequences of his addiction issues. Jake’s substance use had subsided substantially without the influence of Mark and Dani and we eventually adjusted to living normal, routine driven lifestyles. He had cycled through periods of problematic use before, however I still felt somewhat shell shocked by the intensity of his most recent relapse. However, one day late in December I found myself wandering through the tranquility of the Otways, fully freed from the constraints of the lockdown which had finally lifted and contemplating my progress in life since leaving this place as a teenager. The rainforest sounds were vivid and the smells of the ocean salty in my nostrils. I wasn’t where I had planned to end the year 2020, but I was alive and I had Jake. And for that, I felt eternally grateful.
Rosso Del Giorno
Your journey starts here.
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strawberrysoup · 5 years ago
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Let’s Review || Chapter 1
Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks
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relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
This story is, as advertised, fucked up. It’s inspired by the recent influx of Dark!Steve and Dark!Tony fics and there is a lot of potentially triggering material so please read with caution. Our heroes are not heroes in this story; they’re criminals with limited to no consciences. 
There weren’t many things that Penny Parker could really rely on. Her paychecks fluctuated unfathomably every two weeks, the electricity bill was never consistent, and for some reason even when she drove her car dry it never took the same amount of gas to fill the tank. Peter’s class schedule seemed to change every time she asked about it, his after-school club activities were never on the same day, and why did she have to sign this report card but not last quarter’s, Pete? Consistency was something she’d learned not to hope for. Mostly she kept her fingers crossed that things would somehow work out to her advantage, day by day.
For the most part, it did. She’d dropped out of high school when uncle Ben died to start working, to help support aunt May and Peter. It had taken three years to get her GED between the three jobs she worked, but she managed. GED accomplished, she checked off that box on her mental list and signed up for night classes at the local community college. It was hard, but she could make it work. Then aunt May had died.
Custody of 14 year old Peter Parker had been hotly contested, as Penny had only been 21 at the time of aunt May’s death. Technically, she was an adult. She had two jobs, a steady income, an apartment, a decent credit score. Somehow, like most things in her life, it had just kind of worked out and she was granted sole custody of her younger brother. She’d dropped her night classes, picked up a third job overnight, and kept her fingers crossed that social services never asked why her “two bedroom apartment” only had one bedroom.
Semi-decent luck was the only thing that really kept her life running, and by extension Peter’s. She knew it would wear off someday, she’d been granted the lion’s share of good fortune in Queens when it came to looking after her brother and it wasn’t super fair. She just didn’t think it would end so spectacularly. The end of the luck was supposed to be a low, painful fizzle.
Instead, it was a flashbang that started with Peter acting like a cokehead. Peter had never been a particularly twitchy kid; Penny had leeched all the chaotic energy from their mother’s womb and left the intelligence behind for her kid brother. Over the course of several months though, he’d begun jumping at the drop of a hat. Penny would turn the corner into the kitchen and startle him so badly he’d have an asthma attack. If she even glanced at his phone when a notification lit up the screen he’d lose his mind, accusing her of not respecting his privacy and dart away into his room. Asking if he needed anything from the store was suddenly the Spanish Inquisition and god forbid she offer him a ride to school.
Because she’d graciously left all the IQ points for Peter, Penny had a tendency to do stupid things. Like assume Peter’s behavior was because he had gotten a girlfriend or was just going through usual teenage boy hormones that made him act like a jackass. Luckily the dumbass wasn’t actually a cokehead, considering he still blanched whenever she had weed in the house, but fuck if he wasn’t acting like a freak. It came to a head when she happened to be coming home from her second job at the same time he was getting home from one of his after-school club meetings.
She hadn’t been sure what she was seeing at first. It was definitely Peter, he’d hit a growth spurt finally and started to put on some height and muscle mass but was still a lanky little shit, and he was arguing with a man in a suit who was walking next to him. Both were being followed by a slow-moving car with blacked out windows and no front license plate. Peter’s body language was uncomfortable, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders angled away from the man and tucked in, eyes down.
When Penny called out to Peter, the man had gotten into the backseat of the black car which promptly drove away. Her brother had gone red in the face and ran up the steps to their apartment complex without waiting for her to catch up, locking himself in the bedroom and refusing to come out when she followed him in. She’d given up on being the casual guardian, the cool big sister who let him live his life. Penny had begged him to come out, to tell her what was going on. She just wanted to help, how could she help him if he wouldn’t talk to her?
It had started with simple answers, after Penny had started to cry, through the door.
Who was that man? Tony Stark.
What did he want with Peter? To offer him a job.
Why were they arguing? Because Peter rejected the offer.
He was lying. Penny knew what it sounded like, the way his voice changed. She’d been glued to his side since their parents died when she was 13 and it had only gotten worse with uncle Ben’s passing. Peter was lying through his teeth and Penny had no idea why, no idea what to do. Helplessness had settled over her shoulders like a lead blanket, her chest tightening. If Peter was willing to lie to her, then whatever was happening with Tony Stark was really, really bad. And she had no fucking idea what to do.
***
“JARVIS, bring up Peter’s file.”
The voice cut through the silence of the car like a shot, Happy glancing at the man in the backseat through the rearview mirror questioningly. Usually his boss was in a pretty good mood after having harassed the high school kid he’d become obsessed with over the last several months, but the tone of his voice said otherwise.
“Of course, sir,” the AI responded dutifully from the Stark phone, a document appearing on the screen, “anything in particular, sir?”
“Peter told me he was emancipated after his aunt’s death and that he lived alone. I think my boy’s lying to me, J,” Tony’s voice was lower than usual, irritation apparent in his stony expression.
“Straight home, boss?” Happy asked quietly, humming in response when the man in the backseat nodded.
“Records show that Peter Parker is under the guardianship of one Penelope Parker, 24 years of age, relation: sister.”
“So he did lie to me,” Tony ran a hand over his goatee, sighing through the motion in disappointment before anger overcame him again, “You mean he lives in that shithole with someone? She’s supposed to be taking care of him, that place is a fucking drug den!”
“The police have indeed responded to 23 calls involving illicit drug use in that apartment complex in the last 10 days, sir. Another 10 calls were answered in response to domestic violence, 5 calls in regards to loitering, 7 calls in—”
“Thank you, JARVIS,” he waved his hand impatiently before the AI could recite every reason his boy shouldn’t be living in such a fucking pigsty, “tell me more about Penelope.”
The name was said with enough venom that Happy’s eyebrows went up, glancing once again at his boss in the rearview mirror as he navigated through the congested New York City streets.
“Penelope Parker, 24 years of age, born in New York City, New York. Dropped out of high school at 16, accomplished a GED at 19. Currently employed at Little Hands Daycare, Starbucks Coffee, and Kroger’s. Owner of a 2001 Toyota Camry, license plate 605-CEG, rents a one-bedroom apartment in Queens for $1,200 a month, credit score of 713, 1 speeding ticket, no medical insurance—”
“Stop,” Tony grit his teeth, tilting his head from side to side to crack his neck, “a one-bedroom apartment. No medical insurance. Didn’t even graduate from fucking high school. How the hell did she get custody of my boy?”
“Custody of Peter Parker went to his closest living relative, with the stipulation that social services kept up regular visits on account of the young age of the guardian. Records show that visits kept up for roughly 3 months before ending.”
“3 fucking months, those useless fucks,” it came out as a snarl, “look up the case workers, I want their names. And their heads. On a platter. Get a lock on their wifi signal, I want to know what they’re doing at all times. I already have a tracker on Peter, hack into the GPS on Penelope’s phone and keep track of her too.”
“The phone number listed on Ms. Parker’s work forms is a prepaid burner with no GPS capabilities. I can use triangulation to pick up on her general location when she connects to cell phone towers.”
“Seriously, a burner phone? Is she a drug dealer?” Tony’s eyes shot up to meet Happy’s in the mirror, “Oh my god is my baby’s guardian a drug dealer?”
“There is no evidence of any misconduct on the part of Ms. Parker, sir,” JARVIS stated calmly, despite the edge of infuriated panic from Tony, “she has no arrest record or suspicious activity.”
“That doesn’t mean anything and you know it JARVIS,” Tony pressed his head back into the cushion behind him, squeezing his eyes shut, “I’ve got to get him out of there, sooner rather than later. Happy, once we get home, start coordinating with Rhodey for extraction plans. JARVIS, keep an eye on any activity on their WiFi network.”
“Shall I connect to the webcam on the laptop computer, sir?”
“And the camera on my baby boy’s phone,” on his own phone, Tony opened his picture gallery to swipe through the images he already had of Peter, a small smile taking over his mouth in the process, “Keep any recorded video for at least 24 hours, let me know if anything interesting happens.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Happy, let’s get everyone ready for my boy’s homecoming,” Tony stated, shifting in his seat as they pulled into the private garage beneath Stark Tower, “its coming up sooner than we anticipated.”
***
Penny had started googling Tony Stark the moment she realized Peter wasn’t going to part with anymore information. The longer she sat in front of the laptop, the more panic began to grow in her chest.
Tony Stark was a bad man. A very, very bad man who made very, very dangerous weapons and had lots of very, very important and powerful people in his back pocket. There was no real evidence, of course. None of his misdeeds could be proven in court, none of the weapons he invented could be traced to his company, none of the people he practically owned would even admit to knowing the man. He was incredibly powerful and so fucking dangerous that Penny’s teeth ached at the thought of him even being near her baby brother.
“Fuck,” she muttered dragging both hands through her dark brown hair, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
There was no reason for a man like Tony Stark to be offering Peter a job. Sure, Peter was smarter than anyone she’d ever met. The kid’s IQ had to be off the charts, he’d gotten into that insanely expensive private science school in Midtown. But there was no reason for Tony Stark to recruit a high school senior, even if he was a budding genius.
“What are you doing Pen?” Peter’s voice was raspy from crying and the sound made Penny jump, turning in her seat to look at the teenager behind her.
“I’m…,” she glanced guiltily at the laptop before sighing, “I didn’t know who Tony Stark was off the top of my head. I had to look him up.”
Peter quickly reached out and closed the internet browser before shutting the lid of the laptop, running his hand through his hair in a way rather reminiscent of his sister, “You shouldn’t google him, he’s got enough of an ego that he probably gets an alert every time his name comes up.”
Penny bit her lip, rubbing her hands together in her lap before gathering as much courage as she could and pushing out the chair at the table next to her, “we need to talk, Pete. I need you to tell me the truth about why he was talking to you, no bullshit. I can’t help you if I don’t know the situation.”
The teenager hesitated for all of 30 seconds before dropping into the chair, his expression one of dismay, “I can’t tell you anything, Penny. Its too dangerous, he could hurt you—”
“I’m not worried about me, Peter,” she cut him off, hand rising when he started to open his mouth again, “Stop. Listen. Its my job to take care of you, to keep you safe. Start from the top, how did you meet Tony Stark?”
Another hesitation, eyes darting away from her face before he answered, “on accident. He saw me on the street, I was looking for a job at one of the coffee shops near school.”
Penny held her tongue, refusing to lecture him on getting a job and derailing the current conversation, “and he approached you?”
“Yeah,” Peter rubbed a hand over the back of his head, “Asked me my name, about my uniform. Asked me if I liked science since I went to a special school. I thought it was cool, he runs a research and development laboratory. Then he started… showing up in different places.”
“You think he was in those places deliberately?” The question was a quiet prompt when Peter seemed to clam up and he nodded in response.
“It was weird, but I… I liked the attention,” it was whispered, tears gathering in his eyes as shame built in his chest, “He told me how, how smart I was and how impressed he was by me. Talked to me about science and then just… about me. He wanted to know what kinds of things I liked to do for fun, what kind of movies I liked. I kind of thought we were friends but then…”
“Its okay, Peter,” Penny reached out and grabbed both of his hands in hers carefully, tears in her eyes as well, “what happened then?”
“He started getting handsy,” he murmured, a shiver going down his spine, “at first it was just, just like him putting his hand on my back when we walked through a door. Or he’d put his arm over the back of my chair and touch my shoulder. It was weird because he was an adult but… he’s handsome, Pen. He’s really, really handsome and I was excited because he was interested in me for some reason but now I realize that it wasn’t good and it’s not good and I shouldn’t have let him and I’m so sorr—”
“Don’t say sorry, Pete,” a quiet sob escaped Penny’s mouth and she covered it with her hand, the other still clutching at his, “Don’t apologize, you have done nothing wrong. Oh God, Peter, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I noticed that you’d started acting differently but I passed it off. Oh my God, I should’ve talked to you so much sooner. I should’ve asked what was going on. How long has this been going on, Peter?”
He was quiet for so long that another sob was ripped from Penny’s lips and she shot forward, dragging her little brother into a nearly suffocating hug. Fuck, fuck how long had that piece of shit been conditioning her little brother. That fucking pedophile how long had he been stalking her little brother. Fuck the age of consent in New York, fuck the law, Peter was a baby—he was a fucking child.
“You don’t have to answer, Peter, its okay,” it was a soft whisper, her hand carding through his hair while he cried against her, “I’m going to figure something out, okay? I don’t know what yet, but I’m going to make sure that he leaves you alone. I’m going to take care of this, I’m going to take care of you.”
“You can’t, Penny,” his cries were breathy and quiet, “you can’t take care of me this time, he’ll hurt you—”
Penny couldn’t say it out loud, because Peter would lose his mind, but Penny would let Tony Stark murder her in front of an audience if it meant he’d leave Peter alone. Every promise she’d ever made, to her mother on her deathbed, to aunt May on hers, was to keep Peter safe. To make sure he had every opportunity. Peter was so smart, he had so much potential, if she could just give him the chance, if she could just get him to the point where he could make something of himself—then she would consider her life perfect. She’d die knowing she had done her job, she’d opened the gates for her brother’s success.
“I’ll figure it out Peter, one way or another.”
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nodesiretogrowup · 5 years ago
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alrighty, review time!
Do you think Donald wrote the song? He did write a song when he was younger and the lyrics fit him best
I love that Donald is the sane man of the Caballeros
Why did you choose the bathroom? That’s really weird and kind of perverted
I love the picture of a rubber ducky in a top hat on the wall
Just how big is that bathtub? Four grown men were able to fit in it at the same time
Never mess with a man who has a demon-ghost butler
“That’s the FOURTH rich guy’s bathroom we’ve been kicked out of.” I...I would like to know about the other three. And again, WHY THE BATHROOM?!
“We just need someone to listen to us!” Donald giving us the theme/moral of the episode
Was Louie just waiting out there?
Louie looks like a drug dealer. He also looks a bit like the reboot version of himself from that poster in Quack Pack
“And you’re willing to do whatever I say, at any cost whatsoever?” “Well, not any...” “QUIET, DONALD!” Guys, you should listen to Donald, he knows Louie better than you
Poor Donald, the only sane man here
I love the stickers on Louie’s laptop. I wonder if he actually knows how to hack
I love the stupid “it” trends. Hats-Hats and Invisible Piercings, what will they think of next
Of course Dewey would keep up with an IT list. He actually cares about his image/how his peers view him
The lead singer of the Feather Weights looks like a punk girl version of Drake. I’m gonna go with them being related somehow. Or they used to date. Or they go to the same hair stylist. THEY ARE TIED TOGETHER SOMEHOW
Yo-yo tricks were more of a 2000s thing, Dewey (seriously though, does anyone else remember when yo-yos were SUPER POPULAR for some reason?)
Panchito is so ridiculously EXTRA and I LOVE HIM
“These are my people.” Oh sweet Dewford, they wish they were on your level
“Internet fame-the most important fame of all” Well it’s the most achievable
And then Dewey just rolls off screen
“If only someone had a super-elaborate scheme to get in...KA-BOOM!” Dewey’s not the only showman in the family
This show LOVES some big boards
Why/when did Louie plan all of this? I mean he did want the Caballeros to make him their manager so he could get a cut, but why?
Already you can see that Louie’s pride is gonna get in the way
Again, Donald is being the responsible one
I love their signatures. Panchito’s is like a 12 year old girl’s, José’s is curvy, and Donald’s is the least showy. And I love that Panchito thought “Don” was enough lol. He is close to Launchpad levels of ditziness
The pictures Louie uses on his board are GREAT! I love fridge-raiding Panchito
Agent Dewey-License to Chill. Dewey, that was two episodes ago
“I have a very special job for you.” “Oh-ho ho-ho, special.”
Luis P Canard. Is that a false identity Louie already had or did he make it up for the party? Or is there an actual Luis P Canard?
Huey looks SO CUTE! Though he should have known something was up when Louie asked him to forge a signature. Do you think Huey has forged other documents with or without knowing it?
Louie looks good with that black “lipstick”
“Welcome to the scheme.” “What scheme?” “Nothing.” “TELL NO ONE.”
Gyro Gearloose-Kid inventor. Does that mean he was a child prodigy or that he LITERALLY invents kids? Or both? The possible clone’s tube had K.I.D. on it. I bet this will be explored more, probably next episode
I love how they all stare at the earpieces when Gyro says the DEFINITELY won’t explode 
I love that the lion statues have sunglasses and there’s a statue of a ballerina hippo from Fantasia
OUR QUEEN HAS ARRIVED
How do ducks whistle if they don’t have lips?
Daisy-smiles, Donald-I WOULD DIE FOR YOU
I love Daisy’s fake laugh
With both of them in tuxes you can really see that Dewey and Louie have different body types. Louie has broader shoulders.
“I’M GONNA DANCE DOWN THE RED CARPET.” No Dewey, that’s for the after party
It’s the PEP guy! I feel like he’s gonna become a villain with how much he’s been embarrassed (and he already LOOKS like a cheesy superhero show villain)
GRAVES IS BACK, BABY
Dewey has made a LOT of enemies
“New plan-Dewey is NOT going to the party!” DAMN, THAT’S COLD
“This is the Dewey-est party in town!”
“Oh, WHY was I cursed to be so FLASHY and UNFORGETTABLE?!” I love my dramatic son
Why did the Caballeros have to switch hats?
“SO TIGHT. !”
WE NEED MORE DJ DAFT DUCK
Ok, real talk? That party looks boring as fuck 
I like that there’s sweat when Dewey pulls off his helmet. It’s the little details
“Everyone listens to my plan.” Dewey looks PISSED
“The plan to wow Glamour with our haunting melodies.” Panchito is Drake/DW if he was a Latin Lover. THEY NEED TO MEET. IT WOULD BE HAMMY AND GLORIOUS
“You mean our SICK dance beats!”
Donald is like “girls, girls, you’re BOTH pretty”
But seriously, they need to decide what direction they want to go with their sound
Donald is ALWAYS the voice of reason (except in The Town Where Everyone Was Nice, he got a bit caught up in that lie)
“I will charm my way on stage with my golden voice.” #youtried
That smirk José gives him, beautiful
“Easy, grownups.” YOU JUST GOT DISSED BY A 10 YEAR OLD!
“So I’ll dazzly Daisy with my hip, cool yo-yo tricks.” I would have liked to see how that played out
Does Louie have some kind of dirt on Jane? Why does she keep helping him out? Why does she call him “Mr. Duck?”
Glamour is a BITCH. And it seems like Daisy might share the same luck as Donald and Della
SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO YOU HAVE ON HER, LOUIE?!
Donald was posing all cool
Why send Donald in to do the most important part of the plan? At least have someone with him. Louie should have gone with him so Donald could distract Daisy and Louie could use his pickpocket skills to get the pass. Louie did not account for the variables
“Ooooh PHOOEY.” I love that all of the Duck family say Donald’s catchphrase
POOR DEWEY!
I love Louie’s other distraction ideas-explosion, food poisoning, SET FREE A WILD MONGOOSE, ghosts, ANOTHER explosion 
LET DAISY SAY FUCK
I’m pretty sure Donald got a boner when he saw Daisy DESTROY that vase (I also found it hot). He was scaroused
OUCH. That HAD to have hurt/broken SOMETHING
How did Louie get that picture of Webby? Hell, how was that pic taken in the first place?
“WHEEEEEEE” Webby knows what’s up
“MY FAULT! It’s...your bag.” Oh Donald
LET DAISY SAY FUCK
“My band is sorta...crashing the party.” DONALD YOU ARE TOO CUTE
The yo-yo just rolls away
Louie, you hurt Dewey’s feelings! Also, your plans are pretty ridiculous too, including the one you are currently trying to pull off. There had to be a better idea than a harpy
Listy-er
GLAMOUR MUST DIE FOR WHAT SHE DID TO LOUIE! IT’S A GOOD THING DONALD WASN’T THERE OR ELSE SHE WOULD BE
“I don’t want to be at Funzo’s forever.” “Why not?” Oh Webby, so innocent to the horrors of minimum wage jobs. Also it’s nice to see Webby being able to have an ordinary conversation with someone
FALCON’S EYEBROWS ARE MESMERIZING
It’s equal parts cute and sad how long Dewey takes to count
MANNY IS FUCKING SWOLE
Manny is 0 for 2 when it comes to being the muscle (I’m counting him vs Mega-Beaks as well)
“That was odd.” You have no idea
Donald sees Daisy as the GODDESS she is. GET YOU A MAN LIKE DONALD
I KNEW IT! I KNEW SHE WANTED TO BE A FASHION DESIGNER! It was like the only guess I got right so let me have this
“Nobody listens to me either.” Awww
“They don’t understand me.” AWWW
“Well that’s weird, I understand you perfectly.” MY HEART!!!
I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH! And when it changes into how Daisy hears him...chef’s kisses. It reminded me of Remember Me from Coco and I Love You Too Much from Book of Life
Real talk-the song really got me. I feel a lot like Donald. A lot of times it feels like no one is listening or understands me because my thought process is a bit different. Or they can understand but they don’t care, like how Daisy feels. When Donald sings for her, I teared up because I want to be comfortable enough with someone to let down my guard like that. Music is a big part of who I am so I would love if someone sang for me even if they don’t have the “perfect” voice. I want someone to feel comfortable enough with me to let down their guard and be real
Daisy is a woman of ACTION
Do you think she’s been stuck in that elevator before?
“My kids!” “Wait, you have kids?” Whenever Donald calls them his kids I gain 5 years to my lifespan. I can’t wait for Daisy to officially meet the kids
“Oh no, not again!” Starting to rethink your life-choices aren’t ya?
I love Mark. He’s so stupid and out of touch with the real world
“Oh Gravesy! Long time, no crime.” GRAVEBEAK LIVES ON!
I love Mark’s hoverboard crashing and catching fire in the background. And then it chases Slash
Haha, Mark’s name is Markus. What a dewb
I was rooting for rich lesbian aunt, but mom works too
Graves is SO DONE with these people
Dewey is all of us
Poor Louie. His self confidence is the most fragile of the kids
Nerp
“Just listen to me for once.” WE ALL NEED TO LISTEN TO EACH OTHER, THAT’S THE THEME OF THE EPISODE
THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS! And Mark seemed into it ;)
“I want to look away but I can’t” CALLING IT NOW, THIS LINE’S GONNA BE A MEME
I want Dewey’s yo-yo skills to be a reoccurring thing
That’s one of the things he has in common with his uncle-being a performer even if they aren’t the best at it
Louie’s face as he sneaks away is great
“The failure of it is ridiculous...and BEAUTIFUL!” Gonna use that to describe myself from now on
Dewey is IT. SO FABULOUS!
Daisy, maybe you should let the man get rid of them
DOUBLE BADASS ONE-LINERS
LET DONALD SAY FUCK
HE’S SO PROUD OF HIS BOY
I like the “totally not Pirates of the Caribbean” music that accompanies José when he’s fighting
“Nice singing.” “Nice moves.” NOW KISS
“Oo, nice dagger.” Webby, not the time for that
There is NO WAY that the scene with Gabby and Webby isn’t foreshadowing SOMETHING
“I gotta get out of Duckburg.” Jane starts a GoFundMe page to get out of Duckburg when she gets home
BATTLE COUPLE!
DAISY WILL FUCK YOU UP
DON’T MESS WITH HER MAN
It was then Donald realized that he had met his future wife
DONALD AIN’T GONNA TAKE THAT SHIT FROM YOU
It was then Daisy realized she had met her future husband
“LOVE YOUR BLOG” Who knew Manny kept on on the latest trends
Glamour probably realized those fuckers were crazy so she should back off
SILENT M’MA CABRERA!
OMG EVEN THE TREE HAS FUCKING SUNGLASSES
Manny is one suave motherfucker
Glamour playing with the yo-yo while Mark acts like a spoiled brat
DEWEY IS PROUD OF HIS DADNALD!
IF WE DON’T GET DEWEY’S DOZEN AT SOME POINT I’M SUING
“Our brotherhood is the greatest scheme of all!” SO FUCKING WHOLESOME! MORE LOUIE AND DEWEY PLOTS
“HEY, YOU’RE MESSING WITH MY MOJO!” Don’t be a hater, Manny!
“I could listen to it all night.” DAAAAAWWWWWWW
GAAAAAAHHHHH THIS EPISODE WAS SO GOOD! I love that there was a common theme of feeling like you aren’t being heard. Daisy felt like she was too unimportant to be listened to, Louie doesn’t listen to Dewey because he feels like Dewey isn’t serious enough, and NO ONE listens to Donald because his voice is hard to understand. In the end they all get heard, with Donald and Daisy getting the bonus of finding someone who understands them. The two of them really are relationship goals. I cannot WAIT for more wholesome Donisy content. This one bumped Quack Pack down from my favorite so far.
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haven-gypsygossip · 5 years ago
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I have John's full cell number that Nettie texted. What she did is she blocked the number and then texted this bullshit. The last digits of his personal number start with two zeros. John Fink is not an attorney. He's a fuckin' private investigator for an attorney named Kevin Mills in West Virginia. How long are you gonna lie? Now I'm getting more shit of someone posting up where LO says I'm a prostitute?! I don't know how many times my black ass has to explain it. I never sold my pussy and my mother was never a hooker either. She was a motherfuckin' legal secretary that was doing paralegal work for a high end law firm in Dallas, TX called Baron & Budd before she got laid off and she worked for 2 other insurance firms before she died. My stalkers can go and look at my mother's LinkedIn. It shows all of her credentials. See, LO got mad because someone allowed her and NCT to go into their FB account in a group private chat to see what I was saying because I didn't agree with all the money that followers were giving Mellie. I didn't want our page to look bad. This particular person also lied and said that LO & NCT hacked into her account and got those messages when in reality she gave them her info to get in. I said things out of anger and LO did too but she even admits it wasn't true. Now, I confided in someone and they twisted up my story big time. I had found out that my father was living a double life. He has a fiance and was fuckin' prostitutes that are his youngest daughter's age. He wouldn't pay them in money he paid them with cocaine. My father was also a drug dealer and for exchange for sex he paid them in cocaine. I was disgusted and told them. My father has his masters in computer science and somehow hung out with the wrong crowd and started to going downhill but he hid his double life well. When I first moved to Cali I didn't know my father. The first I have ever been around him since I was 11 or 12 years old. But if I sold my goods, baby I would tell ya! I have no reason to lie. I am an open book. The only person that is a proven liar is the ones feeding the bullshit to Nettie along with Nettie herself. Stick your fingers up your loose twats and spin on it.
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miadearden-speaks · 6 years ago
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Summary of being back on the streets so far
Three cat callers
Gave two of them a bloody nose
The last one ran before I could do anything to him
I got in a fight with a rat
It was a pretty big rat
I won anyways
I helped an old lady cross the streets
Made a friend with this dude who lives in a dumpster
Use a library computer to locate my dad
Gonna hack into his bank account
Got approached by four drug dealers
Gave three of them a bloody nose
Pickpocketed the fourth for cash
Used said cash to buy a pizza
Shared pizza with a group who let me hang out by their fire
Broke a guys arm after he tried to touch me
Ended up running from the cops cause one of the guys I gave a blood nose reported me for assault
That's about it so far
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karenfordonte · 3 years ago
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Hacked PC
my phone broke completely cause my two roommates chargers couldnt charge it either i think my pc was hacked because somethings i tried to open like anti virus and remove apps would close on  their own right after i open them but i did a complete fresh restart to clean it all and i didnt save anything just in case and i had to google least likely to get hacked  best safest email lol and i had to google best pc protection software and edit my safest browser i googled the settings lol to make it all hack free well try to then i had to update my ebt site account info after all that was taken care of chose new security questions too changed email, password, and address and rent price already so yeah thanks for everything adrianna and heavenly mother + etc  i really love it here its nice and i really thank you for helping me so much hope you are having a nice day just to be extra sure i make my pc sleep every time i leave it alone cause its password protected
my dad used to be a computer teacher for like 20+ years ? he knows how to build computers and he knows some code too went to school for it etc and he used to clean peoples computers from viruses for a side job so he taught me some cool things lol ive been using the pc since age 5 and he said when i was 2 he didnt show me how but i knew how to turn his music back on on his pc and ive been on  the internet for all my spare time on my pc all my life every day almost starting at age 10 i think lol age 5 i used to play computer games alot lol  and word doc for school etc  he taught me all about pop ups and certain kinds of viruses and scam websites from a young age lol ive been protecting my pc all day lol in many different ways lol
my room mate tara mentioned the names dee andre today also rihanna and miko etc on the phone but i wanna be cautious just in case still lol i get a bit worried just with the mention of his name but she said dee andre is bbq-ing but she mentioned rihannas name then her baby then miko i wasnt paying attention to all details but yeah lol old site https://smilesooner1111.wixsite.com/my-site that i need to adjust and update lol but  i still think its a god tv cause it fastforwards live tv no matter how many times the channel changes and its not on demand with a menu but she changes it so much to synch up with my life a ton and sometimes the commercials do too so lol these people seem to heart flow a ton of making my life so convenient even the staff  lol i think they all low key heaven walkers lol
this video is my feelings for the situatiion: ps the screaming part of the cc in the video i hear: "you're in heavenly mothers house marry dad" and the tv in our room just said that too + more lol:  "you're in heavenly mothers house karen im right here .... is that ri....... focus on me got you...... were here... censored...heard you leave hell hope you leave fast get clear nice work.....thanks for jesus.... wait for jesus? my wife annie k ..... that old drug dealer isnt the best witness.... etc crime show  stuff  etc lol "
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that video had a suggestion she linked lol confirmed the twin flame whole soul monogamous:
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potcpoi · 7 years ago
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Hi, just want to ask you opinion.
Read this on AO3 comments (by DACjr):
[According to Barb in May of 2012, Trent passed away “almost fifteen years ago” which would mean he died in 1997. This is consistent with the fact that Barb had received 16 copies of “Flowers for Algernon” from all around the country, one for each year from 1997 through to 2012. However, Root stole that drug dealer’s money and opened a bank account in Hanna Frey’s name with Trent as a co-signatory in “back in ‘93.” So, there’s a four-year discrepancy between when “Hanna” opened that account and when Trent was killed. Anyway, if Barb and those 16 books are to be believed, then that means that Sam, who was 12 when Hanna disappeared in 1991, would have been 18 when Trent was killed in 1997, and 23 when she left Bishop after her mother died in 2002.]
So, let’s assume the writer didn’t screwed-up the timeline,
1991: Root (12), Hanna went missing. 
1993: Root (14)  - hacked Jose Barilla (drug dealer ) account, stole $100, 000 and opened a joined bank account (co-signatory: Trent Russell) in Louisiana, withdrawn in cash over the next 3 weeks, closed the account. 
1997: Root (18), Trent was killed. 
2002: Root (23), mom died, left Bishop.
What do you think happen? 
Jose Barilla and his people were too stupid to find the culprit right away? Root has to leave some clue for them? But why after 4 years?  Do you think there might be more victims and Root found out? Pedophile never change/never stop, Trent was rich, had good reputation, very easy to cover up all his crimes. Although I don’t think 14 years old Root will hesistated once she’s set the whole thing up. 
Root: I’ve been hiding since I was 12. (Hiding from Barb & Trent Russell. The library is off limit I guess? Any idea where she do all her hacking and masterminding?)
(I love little Root so much, my heart broke for her)
Hiya! Sorry for the super late response to this, we had to rewatch Bad Code a couple of times so that I could verify the timeline.
So at some point we have this bit of dialogue from John: “She set him up. She stole 100 grand from a drug dealer. When he found out it was missing, the person he went after was Russell. Russell denies it, but it’s useless. His name is on the account. The only other name is that of a girl who’s been dead for two years.” [bolding mine]. This is consistent with Barilla finding Trent almost immediately and killing him while Root was still 14 in 1993. 
Given these discrepancies, I’m just going to assume that the writers screwed up the timeline somewhere. If you’re looking for a Watsonian explanation, then the best I can come up with is that little Samantha Groves seethed every time she had to see Barb for a couple of years after Trent was killed, finally decided that she must be punished too, and for some reason decided to do it psychologically via sending her the books. I’ll admit it’s not the best headcanon I’ve come up with, but I’m really at a loss as to how to explain this one!
And yes, I think she would want to avoid the library as much as possible given how Barb yelled at her the last time she saw her. She might’ve used the school computers to practice hacking, or even stolen one to take home with her. 
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mcndozaas-blog · 7 years ago
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☾ —— have you met kaden mendoza, the thirty year old male that looks a lot like bob morley? he has been in the syndicate as a robber for fourteen years now and is known around as the cataclysmic, because he is cunning & adventurous, as well as hedonistic & cocky. not just a gang banger, reaper is also a drug dealer.
*uberhaxornova voice* alright helLO ( watch, no one else knows who that is ) its me, ur resident trash qeen & angst n pain lover, caitlyn. i’m 23 and i live in cst so like ?? yeah hi hello how are ya’ll ?? this is my baby kaden that’s actually ?? a hot ass mess lmao ?? under the cut is his long as hECK bio and stats because... im the most extra binch you’ll ever meet and i ramble my ass off so if u make it through that bio ?? bless ur frickin heart? i’m so ridiculously excited to be here as well so that made my rambling worse ?? just like it is right now jfc okay i’ll stop. anywHO i’ve got a basic af list of wanted connections for him right HERE & his bio page right HERE. if you wanna plot w this hot ass mess, just like this or hop into my IMs bc i cannot wait to plot with all ya’ll.
ps: this is totally queued because i am currently at work ( i get off @ 8 my time ) so if i don’t reply to your IMs straight away, that’s why!!  
TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of death, murder ( ??? ), gang/cartel related things, alcohol, drugs  & guns.
past.
kaden james mendoza, you were born into a life money, power and crime. your father being the most powerful cartel leader that new york had seen in over thirty years, meaning that anything and everything illegal that happened in and out of your hometown had your dad’s last name and extremely reliable reputation on it. but he wasn’t just that person, the harsh, cruel and brutal person that the people who worked for him were lead to believe. quite the opposite, really. he was kind to you and your mother, gave you both everything you could ever ask for and made sure that both of you were safe. you never knew what it was like to struggle, never had to because everything was handed to you on a silver platter, and you loved every single second of it. you had a thing for being at the top of the social ladder even at that age, meaning that you never understood that there was a life outside of the sliver-lined one you had because you never in your life believed you’d see the day where anything in your life changed. you had that ‘happy family’ people talk about wanting all the time and you thought that no one could touch you or them because your father had everything sorted out.
not until you turned nine, that’s when all hell broke loose.
your father had gotten old, people were constantly claiming he was weak or that he was ‘too soft’ to be the leader anymore, and so he went out and tried to prove that he wasn’t. set up a meeting with someone he’d found to be a rat in his crew, the guy constantly running back and forth from one cartel to the other and your father wanted to put an end to it, while proving that he still had what it took to be the leader. but what he hadn’t expected was for the mutiny to happen, for people to tired of his leadership, for them to someone who wasn’t ‘growing soft’ ways. which meant there was talk of his plan to take the guy out far before the meeting had ever been set up in the first place. meaning that the one person who your father tried to keep in the dark about it ended up finding out.. and needless to say, his ‘fool proof’ plan failed. the meeting was compromised and the other male was able to sneak in his own weapon of choice, a dagger. one that found your father’s heart just before he was about to do the same to the other. but you didn’t know he died, not at all. the people around you, the people that betrayed your father lied to your mother, lied to you. made up this grand story about how he just decided to leave new york, how he decided he wanted to start a new life and leave everything and everyone about the old on behind. a lie that would come back to bite all of them in the ass eventually. a lie that every single one of them would regret for the rest of their lives.
your mother never fully believed the lies, but went along with them to ‘keep you safe’, to shield you from the real truth. in order to do that, she downed bottle after bottle of a liquid you’d been told to avoid because it was only for adults, knowing her behavior would drastically change with each swig she took. sure, she never got mean, never got violent and for that you were grateful. but she did get distant, would lock herself in her room and stay there for days, refusing to come out even for you. kaden, you had no idea why she was doing this, all you knew what that you hated every second of it, wanting to do whatever it took to make sure she was happy again. the only thing you could think of that used to make her happy was your father or the material things he used to buy for her every single day before he came home. sometimes it was flowers, other times it was jewelry, it all depended on just how long he was out doing ‘business’ for. but you didn’t have any money to your name, not really at least. yes, your father made tons of money doing what he did, but all of that went to your mother and she seemed to be blowing all of it on booze and cigarettes which meant you had to figure out a way to get them on your own.
you were at one of your friends’ house when you learned that you had quite the knack for all things technology related, using your laptop to hack into random websites, changing small things here and there that almost went unnoticed most of the time. but you wanted more than that, you’d had a taste of it and you craved more, so you logged into your father’s bank account one day and realized that every single member of the cartel he’d ran for years was tied to that account, that you could hack into any one of their accounts whenever you pleased. so you did, taking small bits of their money and depositing it directly into your own bank account. it wasn’t much at first, a hundred here and there after you’d gotten everyone’s information, but after a while, the bit you started to take wasn’t enough, you wanted more and you knew you could take it, so you upped the total, hitting the hundred thousands by the time you were done. however, your lucky streak ended when one of the cartel members noticed their account had quite the chunk missing out of it, all of them quickly pinning it all on your mother as they figured it was some sort of ‘revenge’ for your father… even though they assumed you both still bought into the lies they told you about him. after hearing multiple people screaming and yelling at your mother to give the money back, you fessed up, told them it was you who’d taken the money and you explained why. but your surprise, you weren’t the one reprimanded for your actions. instead, your mother put you to work, giving you stack after stack of files that had to do with the disappearance of your father, wanting you to uncover the truth behind the lies.. wanting you to find anything that had to do with him.
but that wasn’t even enough for you, not even at the age of thirteen. you need more, some gratification other than the praise of your mother and one night you found out just how to get it.. all while being able to expose and exploit some rather nasty individuals. that became your new form of income, finding out people’s dirty laundry only to hold it over their heads. you blackmailed people and you made good money from it. money you kept because you’d always remembered your father talking about how important money was when it came to his line of business. one you found yourself following, even if you couldn’t see that quite yet. you though you were just working for your mother to help you both find the truth about your father and you left it at that, but all the while the members of his cartel whispered about your talents, knew that you’d be more than likely to take the whole operation out from underneath your mother’s feet one day. but you weren’t just good at hacking into things, no. you could pick up new languages like it was as easy at breathing, able to talk to multiple people who would make your family name even bigger than it already was in their native tongues, meaning you quickly overruled your mother when it came to where you wanted the cartel to go. however, that wasn’t for you.. you liked what you were doing when it came to exposing bad people to the world, all while keeping your families dirty laundry buried deep within encrypted codes that only you knew how to unlock.
kaden, you should have known that wouldn’t be the way things worked for long. you liked power, you liked money and you loved the gratification that came from doing illegal things. so you found another way to gain power and respect, all thanks to a group of kids that your mother would have shamed you for hanging out with. but you didn’t care, not anymore, being with them gave you freedom, something you hadn’t had your entire life and they had you wrapped around their manipulative fingers faster than you could blink an eye. you were so naive before you met them, and they called you out on it, bet you wouldn’t show up at one of their parties one night because they knew it’d get under your skin and you’d do anything to prove them wrong. so did, you went, you snuck out of the house and everyone was pleasantly surprised to see you. not long after you got there, they invited you to a basement, showing you that there was another life within the walls. a life that didn’t involve following every order you’re given without question. you also figure out that there’s a perfect way to let out the anger set deep within you and you begin to participate in boxing matches. a “fight club” of sorts, really. most of the people there were in it for the money, but not you. you could just take your father’s card and get whatever you wanted, so you didn’t need or want the money. no, you wanted the power you felt after you won, the praise that filled your ears for the first time in your life was beyond intoxicating and you couldn’t get enough of it. things started going in a circle for you after that night, but you never wanted it to change. you’d get up, go to school, come home and do your homework, pretend that you were sleeping and then you were out the door, dressed in all black as you made your way to the next basement to ultimately win the fight you were signed up for.
the rebellious streak you found yourself on didn’t end with the boxing matches, though. you were intoxicated from the feeling you felt and it started to consume you. you wanted to find more ways to give you that feeling and you weren’t going to stop until you found them. this lead to you meeting more people like you, more people who wanted to find some form of power that didn’t come from their family names. you ended up finding your safe haven in the most unsafe way you could have. you started drinking at a very young age, doing other illegal substances if they were offered. not to mention the fact that the boys in your little ring of friends would always bring girls to your fights. you’d never even really thought about girls until one day one of the ones your best friend brought with him decided to hang all over you after you’d won yet another fight. it sent your confidence soaring and you loved it. but you didn’t like the idea of just being with one specific person, it was to ‘normal’ for you. you felt like if you were to go steady with one person, you’d turn out to be far too normal and well, you didn’t like that thought one bit. so you ended up breaking that girls heart by sleeping with another, and then another after that. yet another horrible cycle you didn’t seem to want to break. a cycle you let rule your world, all while taking money from unsuspecting people’s bank accounts to line your pockets. how’d you end up becoming just like your father in his younger years? a question heard your mother mumble to herself on evening, but chose to ignore because you had it all, money, power, reputation, girls, alcohol.. it was all at your fingertips and you weren’t letting that go.
however, as much as you loved what you were doing, you decided to go back to your roots when it came to hacking. to go back and find people who were doing wrong things and expose them, just because you figured that if the world was paying attention to those people, they’d turn a blind eye to all the illegal things you seemed to be getting yourself into. it sounded good in your head, and you wanted to push yourself past where you’d been before, to go for someone with more power than those you were hacking into, for someone who had more power than you did, and so you did. you couldn’t believe that you found hacking into the secretary of state’s email address to be easy, but you did. it only took you one red bull, a bag of popcorn and three hours to find out that even the 'good’ guys weren’t as good as they let the cameras believe. something that made you smirk to yourself because it just meant that what you were doing wasn’t that bad at all. you now new that the secretary of state was having an affair on his wife, gambling state money and taking money from charity funds for himself. things you figured that new york deserved to know and with few mouse clicks later and all of those emails were sent to cnn. causing you to instantly became the talk of the town, they wrote articles about you while using the codename 'ph4n70m’ which stood for phantom, something you considered yourself to be as you’d lived in the shadows for most of your life anyways. they had you on the top stories in news broadcasting, your codename was trending on twitter and you were the ticket item for months as everyone tried to figure out who you were, and you absolutely loved the feeling, loved knowing that no matter what, you were being talked about, all while keeping your identity, your mother’s identity and your father’s business off the radar. it was like this new game for you, finding more dangerous things to hack into all while doing random odd-jobs for friends and fellow students for some money on the side. this was it, the life that you wanted, a life that gave you everything your father had.
during your school years, you’d come home and instantly sit down on your computer, finding the next big thing that would continue to keep your codename alive, to keep you the m moment. but after a while, that began to die down too and you knew you needed something that would get you noticed, something that would get you thrown in jail for the rest of your life if you were caught. so you decided to attempt to hack into one of the most secure buildings in the united states: the pentagon. you didn’t even really have a reason, and honestly? you didn’t need one, but you were rather nosy and wanted to see if you could uncover any more dirty laundry. much to your surprise and disappointment, you didn’t find anything that was worth your time. a few people had been discharged for a few things, but nothing was news worthy. so you left it alone and went back to exposing people who had done things that would get you that fifteen minutes of fame all over again. but that wasn’t enough, so you decided to make a move you never thought you would. you took over for your mother, told her you were old enough ( you were eighteen, which meant you were legal, so you figured why not ), told her that she didn’t need the burden of the business on her shoulders anymore and that you’d take over from there. but what you didn’t tell her was that you planned on getting back at every single person that’d done your father wrong in the process. you weren’t a voilent person, you took your anger out in your boxing matches, so you knew you weren’t going to hurt anyone even though it had crossed your mind a few times. no, instead you decided to do what you were best at, hacking into all of their accounts and linking them to a cartel that’d try to plant it’s roots in your territory, a cartel that you quickly had exposed to the police via a few emails under the 'ph4n70m’ alias. two birds with one stone, why not go for it? but your mother didn’t approve of you basically firing all of your men. you couldn’t do this alone, you knew that, but you sure ass hell didn’t want backstabbers working for you. something she needed to understand, something you proved to her by showing everything you’d found years ago about the mutiny.
but things didn’t stay that way and you found out that life can change in the blink of an eye. you’d met someone in school, someone who saw past the wall you kept up around your heart, someone you found yourself falling for. it was young love, yes, but it was unlike any feeling you’d ever had. the people around you didn’t find that as a smart move, though, they started calling you weak, whipped and a million other things that got under your skin because you’d learned that your father had something very similar to this situation happen to him. however, you knew the outcome wouldn’t be the same, and you showed that by cracking down on people who were slacking and making sure everything was run just as smoothly as it could be, all while still having that person what every one called you weak for falling for, showing them that they were wrong. showing them that you could do both and still be the 'heartless asshole’ you needed to be when it was necessary. however, you should have paid attention to the people around you that weren’t your employees, because there was a storm brewing that you never thought would hit so close to home. there was a rival cartel trying to weave their way into new york, and they’d been doing their research on you. knowing that the only way to get to you was through the one person who had gotten past your wall. you woke up to a text message from an unknown number telling you that you had twenty-four hours to get the hell out of new york or everything you knew and cared about would be burnt to the ground.
what other choice did you have but to obey? if they’d threatened you, it would have been find, you would have rolled your eyes and moved on. but they’d attached photos of you and her strolling down the streets, hand in hand along with your address and hers. so you made the hardest choice you would have to make in your life, you packed up everything and left. leaving notes for your friends and her with your mother, telling her to give them out because you’d made the choice to move and get out on your own. she didn’t understand that, though, you were only fifteen and couldn’t actually get a job anywhere, you couldn’t drive, yet you were packed up and had a plane ticket for a town in indiana that you’d never even heard of before, but it was so off the radar that you figured it’d be the best bet. you had to get away, had to start all over. but that was okay with you. you knew that you could manage, you knew you’d be able to figure something out whenever you got there. yes, it’d be hard, but you were strong and you knew that.
however, what you didn’t expect was to find a lifestyle there that wasn’t all that different from the one you’d lived in new york. you’d been pick-pocketing people for money to afford a shitty hotel room, one that you now called your home when someone saw you tricking someone else. whenever the person approached you, you fully expected them to call you out and put you under citizen’s arrest, but to your surprise, they offered you a job. it wasn’t much at first, you’d go to their hq and clean up and never asked questions about what in the hell they were doing because honestly? you had a general idea and you wanted in, no matter what it was they were actually doing. you found out when someone came in with a duffel bag full of money, something that made your heart start pumping once again. you hadn’t seen that much money since you’d been the “leader” of your father’s business, so you knew with every fiber of your being that you needed to be more hands on, that you needed to be involved in the heists they set up.
to their surprise, you were good with guns, good with violence. good with not showing emotions other than anger. that you could become a really good asset for them. so began your 'new’ life. you became a robber, meaning you became more hands on than you ever thought you would have been. and you loved every single second of it. you had power, but the focus wasn’t just on you. you had other people you were working with and for once, you were okay with working with others. they became your family, you found yourself realizing that year after year that went by, you’d do anything for them. kaden, you found a life for yourself that not only made you happy because you were able to do what you wanted to do, but you found people who loved it just as much, people you could trust your life with, people who you found yourself actually caring for. more so than you’d ever felt that for anyone. but there was that small part of you that thought you needed more, so more was what you went for and not long after that, you found yourself falling back into the old habits of dealing drugs. you started small at first, dealing nothing but weed, but a year after that you were back to selling everything you’d been selling back in new york and for the first time in your life, you were content. this was the life you’d wanted. power without being a 'leader’, fun without worrying about the consequences.. you had it all, and you were so damn happy.
present.
you’ve lived that life for fourteen years now, and there isn’t a damn thing you’d change about it, nor do you see yourself stopping any time soon. you have it all, all while keeping yourself so far off the radar that people from your past couldn’t find you even if they tried. not to mention the fact you’re able to do whatever you want with your money, spending it on alcohol, drugs, cars, shoes, clothes, clubs, bars and women. things that you’d had back in new york, sure.. but here? here it was different. you were able to do all of the things you wanted to do without having to worry about any of your choices effecting an entire business. yes, you made mistakes, some that were hard to fix or cover up, but they were covered up in the long run so that took the weight off of your shoulders. of course, you have to be careful with how you act in public, but you’d always been good at that anyways so that was as easy as breathing in your honest opinion. what still troubles you from time to time is the fact that you have to let people in, that the people around you know far more about you than you ever thought they would have fourteen years ago. that’s hard, yes, and you struggle with it, slipping back into your 'heartless asshole’ reputation you had back in new york far more often than not. but you’re sure the people around you know that you can’t help it, that it’s just how you are.. and that you don’t mean to offend anyone with your actions or words. or at least you hope so, because you’d actually do care about them. they’ve become closer to you than your old friends or family. you also still have your side job of dealing drugs to people around monroe, and you’re doing everything you can to keep both of your jobs going as smoothly as possibly, all while still living the way you want to live.
however, even though you keep your jobs and the syndicate on the down low and in the shadows, you have a tendency to flaunt your money whenever possible, something that makes your mother roll her eyes because she didn’t raise you to be 'pretentious, arrogant and vain’ but you don’t mind because at the end of the day, she still loves you with all of her heart. something that you cherish with every fiber of your being, something that you actually allow yourself to feel because you’ve learned that in your line of business, bottling up every emotion you’ve got works far better than letting them all out. which also means that you still tend to sleep around, a habit you couldn’t seem to break and honestly? it’s probably better that way, or at least that’s what you tell yourself all the time. 'it would be far too dangerous to involve someone in your life for more than just a hook up.’ it’s a plausible excuse, and you’ve never led someone on, making them believe you were looking for more than just that.. so you don’t really see an issue with it. as long as it’s not hurting anyone else, why should you stop? you tell yourself that far too often, any time you come home with a different person, any time you go out and party as if you’ve just turned twenty-one. but what you don’t realize is your friends are concerned about you. they see through the lies when you tell them 'you’re fine’ or 'i got plenty of sleep’, but they never call you out on it because they’re worried their jobs would be at risk if they did. that’s the person you’ve become, kaden. someone who drinks too often, someone who doesn’t get enough sleep.. or at all because of just how busy juggling two lives is. but you’re determined to go on living the life that you want to live, acting the way you want to act because in your mind you’ve earned every second of it. which, you might have, but that doesn’t stop you from being a human being. someone who needs rest, someone who needs to stop juggling everything, someone who needs to stop thinking he has to do everything on his own. but hey, it’s your life, you’ll ignore most people whenever they try to tell you how to live your life because you’re stubborn, just like your father.. someone who would be so proud of you for picking up his legacy and making the 'family business’ grow to heights he never could have done, and that’s all that matters to you. you’ve become the man he wanted you to be from the moment you were born, and that might not be the best thing in the world due to the fact you have to live your life so shut off from everyone else. you’re lonely, kaden, and that’s not something you can fix by partying, hooking up with other people or running businesses. you need to find a way to balance everything in your life.
personality.
hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, anger and lust.
doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him due to his job.
wears glasses to read and mess w computers, but hates them a lot and probably won’t wear them if people are around.
loves suits & everything expensive.. will probably look like he just came out of a photo shoot like 8 times outta 10 ??
however, he rocks jeans, v-necks, shorts, sweats, leather jackets and anything that makes him look like your typical fuckboi jock?? it’s kinda his aesthetic.
is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.
has a motorcycle and it’s his baby.. has a few cars too bc tbh he likes to flaunt his money
a hot mess
loves halloween so much?? even though it’s his birthday?? he gets so hype for that holiday it’s unreal.
fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators at meetings with potential business partners.
lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s not the complete asshole role that he plays on a daily basis and is actually a very hurt person bc if people started realizing that, he’d have to start feeling again and tbh, he don’t wanna do that.
is the biggest flirt you will ever meet??
will try to get everyone to go to bars n parties with him because that’s his life in a nutshell.
hella nerd on the inside though like owns so many comic books, loves to play video games, read books, write songs & all that jazz.
super, super intelligent. had he not gone into the life he did, he’d probably be working for nasa or something idk.
drinks like every night?? it’s a problem tbh.
he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.
full of horrible and cheesy pick up lines and jokes and frequently texts people said pick up lines and jokes.
owns a book that is full of nothing but blank pages and keeps it on his coffee table because he 'relates’ to it.
is a highkey hoe but he keeps it on the dl
speaking of….. might be a highkey dom yikes
super into fitness as it’s a way to keep him away from drinking every evening, even if that doesn’t actually work ??
loves boxing so much and can be seen at the gym almost every night..
also has bruised knuckles 24/7 because of it as it’s a way to take out his aggression and feelings out on a punching bag??
actually super loyal and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall??
which is really hard to do due to his job but if u do it he’ll cherish u.
is one of those people who’s instagram feed is nothing but pictures of his dogs and food.
has a bad habit of smoking whenever he’s stressed out or drunk.
will also talk about his dogs more often than he talks about his life.
highkey into cuddling and all the cute shit like that but would literally never tell a soul because then they’d see that he isn’t such a hardass.
is a burnt cupcake who has really good intentions but has horrible execution skills.
statistics.
full name: kaden james mendoza.
nickname(s): kade, reaper, k or m, ph4n70m ( phantom. ).
age: thirty.
date of birth: october 31st.
zodiac sign: scorpio.
place of birth: new york city, new york.
gender: cis-male.
sexual orientation: bisexual.
romantic orientation: bisexual.
religion: n/a.
occupation: robber / drug dealer.
language(s) spoken: english, french, spanish, welsh, russian, korean, japanese, italian, romanian, greek, gaelic and bulgarian.
accent: american.
physical appearance.
face claim: bob morley.
hair color: brown.
eye color: brown.
height: 6′ 1″.
weight: 225 lbs.
build: athletic.
personality / traits.
label: the cataclysmic.
positive traits: cunning, adventurous, intelligent, charming & brave.
negative traits: hedonistic, cocky, impulsive, flirtatious & closed off.
fears: claustrophobia.
hobbies: playing video games, reading books / comics, boxing, pool, going to sports events, soccer, football, going to the gym, playing guitar, playing piano, cooking, hiking, camping, fishing, golf.
quirks: belives in karma, fights for animal rights, fights for gender equality, fights for human rights, fights for marriage equality, wears mismatched socks ( sometimes ), counts stairs, plays with fire, plays a musical instrument, boxes, enjoys nature, tells the truth / can be brutally honest, uses bad puns whenever possible.
likes: rain, thunderstorms, cars, shoes, boxing, sports, nighttime, fall, traveling, swimming, cooking, art, astronomy, greek history, food, animals, movie marathons, comic books.
dislikes: seafood, heat, bad traffic, being bossed around.
family
father: gideon james mendoza. ( deceased. )
mother: lindsey rose williams-mendoza. ( living. )
siblings: a younger sister ( living. )
pets: two siberian huskies named balto and steele.
financial status: upper class.
tests.
myers-briggs: estp-a
enneagram: type 8 ( the challenger. )
moral alignment: lawful evil. ( the dominator. )
temperament: choleric.
hogwarts house: slytherin.
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cryokinesisandlight · 7 years ago
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EXO KoKoBop Criminal AU
With the new concept I got a new AU ... 
Yes, I have a criminal AU based on KoKoBop because why not and I want to talk about it because there's no actual story connected to it, just a bunch of babes~
It’s gonna be a long post, though. 
This is kind of a lazy gang but I love them.
Minseok (Xiumin) is the leader and he doesn't really do much right now other than being soft and kissing his babes. It's not really some kind of harem or whatever because it's mostly just platonic kisses but he just cares for the members so. fucking. much like where would he be without them? 
That's a good question and also he would probably be in jail, not because he'd get caught but just because what's the fun in doing soft crimes and stuff if you're all lonely? 
So yeah, he has done most of what the others do but they do it far better than he does - and because he's got an organized mind and is really good at figuring out how to work everything so nothing ever goes wrong, he's just ... the leader. 
Honestly, he doesn't look like the leader at all but hey, that's good because nobody would actually think he could do the shit he does. And if you were to betray him, he would kiss your temple right before he cuts your throat. That's my boy Minseok.
Jongin (or Junghwa, maybe Junghwa tbh) is 2nd in command but only because they're romantically involved with Xiumin lmao. Like that's literally it. The two of them just love each other a little more than they love the rest of the members. They're also the scariest member of the gang outside of Xiumin whose appearance betrays his mind. 
Either way, Jongin/Junghwa is scary as fuck. They do most of the murders and honestly, they mostly do them for Chanyeol's sake but they can do them for any of the gang members. They enjoy it, the desperation of their victim as they stare death in the eyes. Exhilarating! And it's just so enjoyable to lift that gun, aim that knife, press those fingers into throats. 
Jongin/Junghwa loves looking into the eyes of their victims to really see the fear and they honestly have absolutely no trouble killing kids either. 
There's nothing psychopathic over them as such, though. Emotions fully intact, moral code just completely screwed. 
They love cuddling after a job well done tho and they sleep practically 15 hours a day so most of the time they look so so so soft and approachable lmao.
Chen (Jongdae) is the information. Mostly he gets it from eavesdropping and monitoring the police and the political people but sometimes he also gets it on the streets. Honestly, Jongdae is so wild on the streets like he can sniff up the most irrelevant information and still have it be relevant. Ask about anyone and Jongdae will get you information. 
He's got a lot of informants as well. Actually he prefers everything but hacking because hacking is really really boring and it leaves him alone in front of a computer. He's a social guy, man, what did you expect? 
He knows how to hack, though, but it's just not something he does if he can avoid it. Getting information the old way is preferred. 
Jongdae used to be a spy for North Korea but then he ended up liking South Korea too much so he defected and found Xiumin and Jongin/Junghwa instead and hey, that was pretty good as well. 
Jongdae has gotten new identities countless of times but hey, with a guy like Chanyeol, it couldn't get any easier.
So yeah, lets talk about Chanyeol because now I've mentioned him twice, haha. Chanyeol does ghosting. That's primarily his job and oh boy does he enjoy it. In case you don't know what ghosting is, it's taking the identity of someone that few people know has died. 
And that's where Jongin/Junghwa comes into their partnership because what better way than to steal a dead person's identity than to kill them first? 
That way very few people will know they have died (if any at all) and fixing passport photos etc. is a piece of cake. So mostly they ghost when they need knew identities because that way they can take on a "living" person's identity and if everything else fits (age, appearance to a certain extent, nationality and so on) then why not? 
He can make fake identities from scratch as well but that requires more work and Chanyeol actually likes ghosting. To think of the lives they overtake and wonder who they were in the past. 
Oh, to dig up all those childhood memories of the ghost and hand them to a member - what a joy. 
Chanyeol honestly lives for ghosting. 
He's also tall as fuck and has a wide smile on his lips so being in public is not really any problem and - seriously, Chanyeol has so much free time, what is he gonna do with it?
Which leads us to Joonmyun. Not really but I want to talk about Joonmyun. So ... Joonmyun actually does a lot of the footwork in the gang. How boring, now isn't it? Okay, no, not really. 
Joonmyun is a total babe and mostly he just sets stuff on fire. 
Arson is his specialty and he's developed his own way of doing it. Like you just know when it's EXO's arsonist that has been lighting fires but nobody is able to catch him because he's just that sneaky. 
He's so good at what he does, though, because he lingers in the night and also looks like a normal business man at day, assessing the buildings, how to light them on fire subtly and makes mental notes for days or even weeks. 
Every arson is so well-planned that it's just impossible to trace it back to him, yet at the same time there's just this thing that makes it his entirely. 
He also does drugs as in he sells them. Sometimes he hands them out at night clubs because why the fuck not and he's got that dealer reputation but nobody really dares take him down as a dealer either because Joonmyun is the perfect liar and he can get away with everything. 
Smooth motherfucker really.
Let's talk about Soo next. I kind of want it to be Sookyung, though. She's a badass woman. She holds a master in biochemistry and that's actually her best weapon. She spends most of her time in labs and she hates noise and bothersome gang members that just wants to cuddle like get the fuck out of her lab. Right now. 
She is actually kind of harmless, even if she's also the most deadlist.
Sookyung usually makes CBRN threats. She has yet to actually release anything to create a contamination but that's beside the question. The threats are definitely enough to have people do their bidding, especially political people. 
If you don't know what CBRN stands for, it's an abbreviation of Chemical, Biological, Radiological, Nuclear and it's used as either attacks, defense or happens as accidents, usually with quite horrible consequences. 
While Sookyung deals mostly with the Chemical and the Biological aspect of CBRN, she has knowledge of the other two as well. She doesn't really use them for consequences but rather nurses her vira and bacteria and tries to combine and create new fatal chemicals. 
She's a little introverted and mostly wears a scowl on her face but she's also fiercely loyal and when she's comfortable she can speak for hours about her small microscopic children. 
She prefers Xiumin, Jongin/Junghwa, Seyoon and Lay over the talkative members such as Jongdae, Chanyeol and Baekhyun.
Lay operates in a business suit as he walks around in the daylight and looks into numbers. He works top jobs and steals millions of money with fraud, but he's the kindest person on Earth and nobody would consider him worthy of such crimes. 
He's intelligent as fuck, often leading to confusing moments and he's often far ahead compared to the people around him. It makes him seem rather dazed and sometimes people think he smokes weed. Yixing has never touched such substances, though, his intelligence just puts him on another level. 
Fraud keeps him sane and he loves tempering with the numbers, watching his own bank account grow as he empties banks and large companies before he moves onto the next one. 
Originally from China, he has contacts in China as well and sometimes operate there. He likes traveling around the world and Xiumin mostly lets him. 
Innocence is his appearance and nobody would suspect a bad bone in him. Too bad they're wrong.
Baekhyun and Seyoon have a small competition, but let's talk about Baekhyun first.
Baekhyun is a thief. He likes action and stuff happening and if he's without his gun it's all just wrong. That's why he has found solitude in robberies and shoplifting, stealing mostly in broad daylight where the chance of getting caught is high. 
But Baekhyun is also like a magician and even if he is caught, there's no way to find the stolen goods on him. He cannot be spotted on cameras and he's like a chameleon as he blends in with people. He's absolutely sneaky and he's so observant. 
Baekhyun always knows the trends, come to Baekhyun for anything and he will know. The most social of them all (although followed closely by Jongdae) Baekhyun loves to be where people are. 
He also pickpockets and he's good at it. Refined pickpocketing with a dash of excitement is his specialty along with the shoplifting and the robberies. 
It isn't uncommon that he shoplifts something none of the other members of the gang don't think they need such as expensive wine, Hawaiian shirts and sunglasses.
Seyoon is also a thief, but she has specialised in much more refined theft. 
Her specialty is racketeering and her patience and persistence is what lets her get away with it. She plays on fear and often convinces her victims they need the protection she offers, even if the danger is completely fictional. She enjoys the smooth lie that slips through her lips and the fear she can instill in people, only to collect hard cash in her hands. 
She loves watching her bank account grow with deposits and her lips are usually curled into a small smile. She's cocky as fuck and considers her work the most important for the gang. Where would they be without her really. 
She also does pickpocketing because she cannot let Baekhyun have all the fun. 
While she isn't as extroverted and social as he, she has the benefit of her good looks and men are so easy to pickpocket when they're drunk. Her playing field is clubs and bars and she rarely sets foot in a shopping mall.
At the end of the day, she and Baekhyun always counts who got most money from their pickpocketing and while Baekhyun often wins, Seyoon still considers herself a more successful thief. After all, she does the refined theft.
I'm not even sure this gang could work in the real world, but they're important and soft and even though they don't necessarily do all the dirty work with extreme violence and such they still have enough money and most certainly enough power to secretly run the government. 
That said, they're usually also hidden from other gangs because of their little street-action and involvement with the rest of them.
Shimmy shimmy kokobop, I think I like it~
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miseryff · 7 years ago
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16. Boyfriend
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[ Chris ]
“You sure this is the address, man?” I asked my private investigator friend, Daryl, as I looked over at the decent sized home. I told Daryl to just text the address to my phone but he insisted on coming along with me in case shit hit the fan. His words not mine. “That’s the address, mane. The cell signals pinned Paris’ location to this house. Plus, when I hacked into the street cams it showed Paris getting out of that car,” he pointed to the clean, black, BMW sitting in the driveway.
Who the fuck did Paris know in Houston, Texas?
“Aight, stay right here. I wont be long.” I adjusted the NY baseball cap on my head before hopping out of my rental car. I noticed there were two cars sitting in the driveway. The black BMW and then this white Range Rover. The motherfuckers who lived here had money, that much was clear. I rang the doorbell and then looked back at the car. Daryl was now outside the car and leaning up against the hood. I shook my head. Could this look anymore like a cop? God damn.
Maybe a minute passed before the locks on the front door were being tampered with, and I was standing face to face with this brown skinned chick. She looked to be Paris’ age. “Hi, can I help you?”
“Is Paris here?” Her face twisted up in disgust, and she scoffed before mumbling some shit. She walked away from the door and I just stood there awkward as fuck. Should I walk in? Who the fuck leaves their front door open with a random standing on the other side? This chick obviously lacked common sense. Paris came walking up to the door and her facial expression must have changed three times in the past five seconds.
“Dad? What the fuck--”
“Why you here, P? What happened to rehab in Brooklyn?” I chuckled as I watched her turn red in the face. I was the one who was justified to be irritated if anything. Shawty really had me and her moms fooled that she was getting her shit together and ditching this nasty ass addiction she picked up. Rehab my ass.
“I lied about that shit. You and mom were on my dick and not tryna have me leave for the weekend so I--”
“So you what, Paris? You made up some bullshit lie and took a flight out here anyways? Who the fuck do you think you are?” I didn’t realize that my volume had gone up until Paris pushed me off the doorstep and closed the door behind her. “Dad, I--”
“Naw, I don’t wanna hear shit you gotta say. Go get ya shit so that we could bounce. A friend of mine is flying out later and said that we could catch a flight on his jet.”
“I’m not leaving until Sunday, dad. Can we do this shit when I get back to NY? Cause I’m really having a good time here and I don’t need you fucking it up. Matter fact, how did you even find me?”
“I got connections.” She sent me the ‘really, nigga’ face before looking behind me and at Daryl. “You really had your cop friends track me down? It was never that serious.” She rolled her eyes and then went to walk back up to the house but I grabbed her elbow. “Unless you going into that house to get your shit, I suggest you get in the car.”
She snatched her arm back from me and then closed her eyes. I watched as she took in and released several breaths. When she opened her eyes again I was surprised to see a smile on her lips. “I’m here spending the weekend with my boyfriend, dad. His name is Derrick and if you’d like to meet him he’s inside.”
“Boyfriend?”
I sized the lil nigga up as I watched him hold my daughters hand. I already pressed him on his background, past, and current occupation. I may have even sent Darly a text with his name and asked him to do a quick profile purge. I ain’t know this lil nigga from nowhere so I wasn’t putting anything past him. “And where did yall two meet?”
“We met that night that I needed you, and I was calling your phone down like crazy but you wouldn’t pick up. You remember that?” Paris’ attitude was not needed right now. But I ignored that shit as I waited for Darly to hit me back and tell me about the skeletons this lil nigga had in his closet. I know Paris and I know she has a type. This nigga had to be a drug dealer-- ain’t no way he got this nice ass house and that fire ass car from running no sneaker store. Fuckkkdatshit.
“I know you probably skeptical of me being with your daughter, Mr. Brown. But you really don’t got shit to worry bout. Paris is good with me, and she’s only here until Sunday, anyways. Then we flying back out to NY.”
“What you mean we flying back out to NY? Don’t you live out here?”
“I do live here in Houston, but I’m currently spending the summer in the Hampton's with my aunt and cousin.” I nodded coolly, and then went to respond but my phone started vibrating. “Excuse me.” I stood from my seat on the couch and went out into the hallway. “What you found?”
“He’s clean, man. His pops used to own a sneaker spot down on 24th Street until lil homie took over for his pops. He opened up another store last year too. They got some fire ass kicks up in there. I copped the 12s--”
“Aight, man... good looking. I’ll be out soon... start the car.” I sighed as I walked back into the living room. I came back just in time to see Paris tonguing down the lil nigga. Clearing my throat, they quickly parted ways. I watched as Paris wiped the side of his mouth with her hand. “Aight, Paris... chill...” I chuckled as I watched the man push Paris’ hand from his face. She was really pampering him like he was a baby or some shit.
“Come here, P...” I fanned her over as I kept my feet planted in my spot. I was about to be up out this bitch. “If you think that I’m flying back with you then--”
“You ain’t gotta fly back with me. I ain’t wanna have to do this trip out here, Paris, but you can’t be doing shit like that. Can’t you see how unnecessary that lie was that you made up? You deadass booked a weekend at a rehab center... how much that shit cost anyways?”
“Check your account statement and you--”
“No the fuck you didn't...” I pulled her into a hug as her laughs started to grow in volume. “Don’t pull no shit like this ever again, Paris. I keep telling you that you not too old to get that ass tapped.”
“Whenever you ready, old man. You know my hands work.” I was the one to laugh this time as I watched her lil ass struggle to hit me in the face. Her hands ain’t even make it up to my chin. It was sad. “Aye, lemme talk to you outside real quick.” I called to the Dre nigga, or Demetri... shit I forgot his name.
“Don’t press him, dad. He’s real good to me.” I only pushed Paris’ lil body out the way as the grown men started to walked outside. I waited until he pulled the door behind him to speak. “On the real, you bout five years older than my daughter. I don’t want you fucking with her head. Cause I’m pretty sure you could see that she don’t got all her marbles there already.” I joked before putting back on the parental glare.
“That’s not my intentions with Paris. We’re still getting to know each other so shit is moving pretty slow. I’m not trying to rush into anything and neither is Paris. We just chilling right now.” I chuckled. I was a nigga so I knew exactly what we just chilling meant.
“All I’m saying is if you get my daughter pregnant or hurt her in anyway, you not gonna be able to leave NY and make it back to this nice ass house of yours. Don’t make it come to that, aight?” I held a hand out to him. He didn’t hesitate to dap me up. “I got you, and I understand where you coming from. I hope that in the future when things get more serious with Paris and I, that me and you can sit down and have this conversation.. you know, under different conditions”. I nodded before looking back at the rental car. “Aight, Demetri, tell Paris that I’ll see her on Sunday.” I started to walk off to the car.
“I got you, and the name’s Derrick!”
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[Paris]
“I mean if you was tryna be my girl all you had to do was ask.” I rolled my eyes at Derrick. He’s been on my dick about me introducing him to my dad as my boyfriend, all night. My pops literally been gone for like three hours and Derrick was still clowning me for the boyfriend comment. “Don’t nobody wanna be ya girl, hun. You wouldn’t even know what to do with a bitch like me.” I was the one to wear the smirk this time as I watched him suck his teeth.
“Nah, you wouldn’t know what to do with a nigga like me. I’d have ya ass all types of crazy.”
“Oh, so you drive bitches crazy? That’s the type of timing you on?” I teased as I positioned my body on top of his. Looking down into his brown orbs, I got lost for a second. He was so fucking fine and all I wanted to do was split on this dick. But my cockblocking ass period decided to show up a few hours before my pops came to the house. I was pissed.
“You heard me, lil girl?”
“Nah, what you said? And don’t call me a lil girl.” I leaned down until my face was directly in front of his. For some reason I wanted to kiss his cheek, so I did just that before pressing my lips to his full ones. “Ima call you whatever the fuck I please. How many times I’m gonn tell you that, baby?”
“I’m baby now?”I licked over my lips before pressing them to his again. He was the one to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue into my mouth. I moaned into his mouth once I felt him grip on my ass. “You think I just take any random chick to my house? Nevertheless, a chick that I met only three weeks ago? Damn right, you my baby. My lil baby that don’t listen.” I cheesed when he brushed a hand over my cheek.
“I only listen when you hitting it right. Too bad my period wanted to be a fuckboy and ruin shit.” I pouted as I sat up straight. “Why you pouting? I can always fuck ya shit up in the week. I ain’t even tripping.” When he shrugged is when I fell out laughing. Of course he wasn’t tripping, It’s not like he was the one who had to go through the period pains that was; cramps, bloating, cravings, and mood-swings. Sometimes I wish I was a nigga.
“You got any jet black hair dye?”
“Now why the fuck would I have jet black hair dye, lil girl?”
“Umm, maybe because I know your hair isn’t naturally blonde with ya wanna be Odell Beckham ass. So, do you have jet black hair dye or nah?” He smacked his lips before sitting up right and leaning against the headboard. “You gonn stop saying I wanna be that nigga. Ain’t nobody tyna look like him. But go and ask my sister... she should have all that shit in her room.” I was the one to smack my lips this time.
“Can you go ask--”
“Am I the one who needs it? Naw. And bring me a bottle of water when you coming back too.” He easily dismissed me and then went to grab the controller off his nightstand. “Broke down OBJ...” I grumbled as I sped out of the bedroom. “Yeah, you better run!”
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terabitweb · 5 years ago
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Original Post from Krebs on Security Author: BrianKrebs
In April 2013, I received via U.S. mail more than a gram of pure heroin as part of a scheme to get me arrested for drug possession. But the plan failed and the Ukrainian mastermind behind it soon after was imprisoned for unrelated cybercrime offenses. That individual recently gave his first interview since finishing his jail time here in the states, and he’s shared some select (if often abrasive and coarse) details on how he got into cybercrime and why. Below are a few translated excerpts.
When I first encountered now-31-year-old Sergei “Fly,” “Flycracker,” “MUXACC” Vovnenko in 2013, he was the administrator of the fraud forum “thecc[dot]bz,” an exclusive and closely guarded Russian language board dedicated to financial fraud and identity theft.
Many of the heavy-hitters from other fraud forums had a presence on Fly’s forum, and collectively the group financed and ran a soup-to-nuts network for turning hacked credit card data into mounds of cash.
Vovnenko first came onto my radar after his alter ego Fly published a blog entry that led with an image of my bloodied, severed head and included my credit report, copies of identification documents, pictures of our front door, information about family members, and so on. Fly had invited all of his cybercriminal friends to ruin my financial identity and that of my family.
Somewhat curious about what might have precipitated this outburst, I was secretly given access to Fly’s cybercrime forum and learned he’d freshly hatched a plot to have heroin sent to my home. The plan was to have one of his forum lackeys spoof a call from one of my neighbors to the police when the drugs arrived, complaining that drugs were being delivered to our house and being sold out of our home by Yours Truly.
Thankfully, someone on Fly’s forum also posted a link to the tracking number for the drug shipment. Before the smack arrived, I had a police officer come out and take a report. After the heroin showed up, I gave the drugs to the local police and wrote about the experience in Mail From the Velvet Cybercrime Underground.
Angry that I’d foiled the plan to have me arrested for being a smack dealer, Fly or someone on his forum had a local florist send a gaudy floral arrangement in the shape of a giant cross to my home, complete with a menacing message that addressed my wife and was signed, “Velvet Crabs.”
The floral arrangement that Fly or one of his forum lackeys had delivered to my home in Virginia.
Vovnenko was arrested in Italy in the summer of 2014 on identity theft and botnet charges, and spent some 15 months in arguably Italy’s worst prison contesting his extradition to the United States. Those efforts failed, and he soon pleaded guilty to aggravated identity theft and wire fraud, and spent several years bouncing around America’s prison system.
Although Vovnenko sent me a total of three letters from prison in Naples (a hand-written apology letter and two friendly postcards), he never responded to my requests to meet him following his trial and conviction on cybercrime charges in the United States. I suppose that is fair: To my everlasting dismay, I never responded to his Italian dispatches (the first I asked to be professionally analyzed and translated before I would touch it).
Seasons greetings from my pen pal, Flycracker.
After serving his 41 month sentence in the U.S., Vovnenko was deported, although it’s unclear where he currently resides (the interview excerpted here suggests he’s back in Italy, but Fly doesn’t exactly confirm that). 
In an interview published on the Russian-language security blog Krober[.]biz, Vovnenko said he began stealing early in life, and by 13 was already getting picked up for petty robberies and thefts.
A translated English version of the interview was produced and shared with KrebsOnSecurity by analysts at New York City-based cyber intelligence firm Flashpoint.
Sometime in the mid-aughts, Vovnenko settled with his mother in Naples, Italy, but he had trouble keeping a job for more than a few days. Until a chance encounter led to a front job at a den of thieves.
“When I came to my Mom in Naples, I could not find a permanent job. Having settled down somewhere at a new job, I would either get kicked out or leave in the first two days. I somehow didn’t succeed with employment until I was invited to work in a wine shop in the historical center of Naples, where I kinda had to wipe the dust from the bottles. But in fact, the wine shop turned out to be a real den and a sales outlet of hashish and crack. So my job was to be on the lookout and whenever the cops showed up, take a bag of goods and leave under the guise of a tourist.”
Cocaine and hash were plentiful at his employer’s place of work, and Vovnenko said he availed himself of both abundantly. After he’d saved enough to buy a computer, Fly started teaching himself how to write programs and hack stuff. He quickly became enthralled with the romanticized side of cybercrime — the allure of instant cash — and decided this was his true vocation.
“After watching movies and reading books about hackers, I really wanted to become a sort of virtual bandit who robs banks without leaving home,” Vovnenko recalled. “Once, out of curiosity, I wrote an SMS bomber that used a registration form on a dating site, bypassing the captcha through some kind of rookie mistake in the shitty code. The bomber would launch from the terminal and was written in Perl, and upon completion of its work, it gave out my phone number and email. I shared the bomber somewhere on one of my many awkward sites.”
“And a couple of weeks later they called me. Nah, not the cops, but some guy who comes from Sri Lanka who called himself Enrico. He told me that he used my program and earned a lot of money, and now he wants to share some of it with me and hire me. By a happy coincidence, the guy also lived in Naples.”
“When we met in person, he told me that he used my bomber to fuck with a telephone company called Wind. This telephone company had such a bonus service: for each incoming SMS you received two cents on the balance. Well, of course, this guy bought a bunch of SIM cards and began to bomb them, getting credits and loading them into his paid lines, similar to how phone sex works.”
But his job soon interfered with his drug habit, and he was let go.
“At the meeting, Enrico gave me 2K euros, and this was the first money I’ve earned, as it is fashionable to say these days, on ‘cybercrime’. I left my previous job and began to work closely with Enrico. But always stoned out of my mind, I didn’t do a good job and struggled with drug addiction at that time. I was addicted to cocaine, as a result, I was pulling a lot more money out of Enrico than my work brought him. And he kicked me out.”
After striking out on his own, Vovnenko says he began getting into carding big time, and was introduced to several other big players on the scene. One of those was a cigarette smuggler who used the nickname Ponchik (“Doughnut”).
I wonder if this is the same Ponchik who was arrested in 2013 as being the mastermind behind the Blackhole exploit kit, a crimeware package that fueled an overnight explosion in malware attacks via Web browser vulnerabilities.
In any case, Vovnenko had settled on some schemes that were generating reliably large amounts of cash.
“I’ve never stood still and was not focusing on carding only, with the money I earned, I started buying dumps and testing them at friends’ stores,” Vovnenko said. “Mules, to whom I signed the hotlines, were also signed up for cashing out the loads, giving them a mere 10 percent for their work. Things seemed to be going well.”
FAN MAIL
There is a large chronological gap in Vovnenko’s account of his cybercrime life story from that point on until the time he and his forum friends started sending heroin, large bags of feces and other nasty stuff to our Northern Virginia home in 2013.
Vovnenko claims he never sent anything and that it was all done by members of his forum.
-Tell me about the packages to Krebs. “That ain’t me. Suitcase filled with sketchy money, dildoes, and a bouquet of coffin wildflowers. They sent all sorts of crazy shit. Forty or so guys would send. When I was already doing time, one of the dudes sent it. By the way, Krebs wanted to see me. But the lawyer suggested this was a bad idea. Maybe he wanted to look into my eyes.”
In one part of the interview, Fly is asked about but only briefly touches on how he was caught. I wanted to add some context here because this part of the story is richly ironic, and perhaps a tad cathartic.
Around the same time Fly was taking bitcoin donations for a fund to purchase heroin on my behalf, he was also engaged to be married to a nice young woman. But Fly apparently did not fully trust his bride-to-be, so he had malware installed on her system that forwarded him copies of all email that she sent and received.
Fly,/Flycracker discussing the purchase of a gram of heroin from Silk Road seller “10toes.”
But Fly would make at least two big operational security mistakes in this spying effort: First, he had his fiancée’s messages forwarded to an email account he’d used for plenty of cybercriminal stuff related to his various “Fly” identities.
Mistake number two was the password for his email account was the same as one of his cybercrime forum admin accounts. And unbeknownst to him at the time, that forum was hacked, with all email addresses and hashed passwords exposed.
Soon enough, investigators were reading Fly’s email, including the messages forwarded from his wife’s account that had details about their upcoming nuptials, such as shipping addresses for their wedding-related items and the full name of Fly’s fiancée. It didn’t take long to zero in on Fly’s location in Naples.
While it may sound unlikely that a guy so immeshed in the cybercrime space could make such rookie security mistakes, I have found that a great many cybercriminals actually have worse operational security than the average Internet user.
I suspect this may be because the nature of their activities requires them to create vast numbers of single- or brief-use accounts, and in general they tend to re-use credentials across multiple sites, or else pick very poor passwords — even for critical resources.
In addition to elaborating on his hacking career, Fly talks a great deal about his time in various prisons (including their culinary habits), and an apparent longing or at least lingering fondness for the whole carding scene in general.
Towards the end, Fly says he’s considering going back to school, and that he may even take up information security as a study. I wish him luck in that whatever that endeavor is as long as he can also avoid stealing from people.
I don’t know what I would have written many years ago to Fly had I not been already so traumatized by receiving postal mail from him. Perhaps it would go something like this:
“Dear Fly: Thank you for your letters. I am very sorry to hear about the delays in your travel plans. I wish you luck in all your endeavors — and I sincerely wish the next hopeful opportunity you alight upon does not turn out to be a pile of shit.”
The entire translated interview is here (PDF). Fair warning: Many readers may find some of the language and topics discussed in the interview disturbing or offensive.
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Go to Source Author: BrianKrebs Interview With the Guy Who Tried to Frame Me for Heroin Possession Original Post from Krebs on Security Author: BrianKrebs In April 2013, I received via U.S. mail more than a gram of pure heroin as part of a scheme to get me arrested for drug possession.
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lewisgabriel84z31 · 7 years ago
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Shitcoin of the Week: Top Secret!
Shitcoin of the Week: Top Secret!
Coinstaker is very pleased to announce that this week, we’re covering the smelliest shitcoin of all. If Skycoin had an ugly paint job, and Tronix has a  used-car vibe, this one’s the roaring dumpster fire of the cryptocurrency world: a toxic, fuming wreckage of bad code and worse management with no benefits other than to make the rest of us feel better about our tanking portfolios.
Unfortunately, due to complicated restrictions involving  a Top Secret clearance and a pinky swear with my very real Canadian girlfriend,  we can’t disclose this week’s stinker just yet.  Before we reveal the Shitcoin of the week, we need to raise at least 3 million dollars in to make this project work.
Please donate to the address below so we can reveal this exciting crypto-turd.
ETH Address.
Did you donate yet? We can’t reveal anything until we meet our fundraising goal.
Please Donate here.
Okay, good. Surprise! The shitcoin of the week is: Verge.
Verge-in Birth
Verge(XVG) is the youngest sibling in the family of “privacy coins,” the projects designed to safeguard the secrecy and anonymity of their users. Whereas Bitcoin and Ethereum have public ledgers, allowing sufficiently-motivated busybodies to theoretically deduce who owns what, these coins help you hide your wealth from the IRS, the police, and your wife.
There are couple of different ways to do that. Monero, the preferred medium for darknet drug dealers, uses enhanced encryption to disguise addresses and transaction volumes. Dash  PrivateSend allows coins from multiple transactions to be mixed for greater anonymity. Verge uses Tor,  the IP masking system used by Dark Net Markets, Chinese activists and other cyber-miscreants.
As described in the XVG Black Paper(an admittedly clever bit of branding) Verge hides a users’ identity by island-hopping their transactions through a chain of nodes. There’s also the Wraith protocol,  which gives users the choice of recording transactions on a public or private ledger. 
Incidentally, Verge is also French for “penis,” a word we expect to appear on the XVG website in the coming weeks.
Brown Flag No. 1: The Dog Keeps Eating Their Code
Most of us learned about Verge after its first bull run last fall.  To novice investors, XVG  was crypto-catnip: it was cheap, had just mooned spectacularly, and had a heavy shilling from John McAfee, the L. Ron Hubbard of cryptocurrency. And it had just announced the Wraith Protocol, about which we knew nothing except that it had a really cool name.  
I immediately decided to throw some money at it, but a gut feeling held me back. Maybe it was the cultish shilling and endless Lambo-talk, but for some reason I decided to wait and see what the Nazgul money had to offer.
Then the Wraith protocol took a sickday. Then it was delayed by bugs.  By the time  it finally did come out, Verge looked like the digital equivalent of a guy selling speakers from the back of a van.
Brown Flag No. 2: Don’t Give your Money to Someone Who Won’t Tell You their Real Name
“Officer, that’s the man who ran off with my money. The cartoon character with the glasses. His name is SpookyKid.”
Verge is brought to you by “Sunerok,” which sounds like the Bizarro-world equivalent of Justin Sun.Apparently it’s a pseudonym for Justin Vendetta–I say “apparently,” because Vendetta sounds as much like a real name as Sunerok.
“Sunerok’s” other  colleagues include such distinguished crypto-luminaries as “SpookyKid” and “CryptoRekt,” as well as a team of identical grey silhouettes with names like “Yakuza112” and “XVGMonk.”
We’ve harped on this before, and not just because fake names make you look dumb. Having real names is an important sign of a projects’ security: it’s much harder to pull off a scam on people who know where you live.
Brown Flag No. 3: Don’t Trust a Locksmith Who Keeps His Key Under The Doormat
There are two things almost everyone should learn before they’re allowed near a computer. The first lesson, which I learned the hard way, is that you should always use Incognito Mode so that you don’t spend your teenage years with a therapist who specializes in cat porn.
Only slightly less important is to protect your passwords. That’s why you need twelve different alphabets just to get into your email. Usually when  you hear about someone famous getting hacked, it’s because all of their passwords are “Guest.” 
So it was a pretty bad sign when Verge—”The future of privacy”—got its Twitter account hijacked like a teenagers’ Instagram.
Sunerok would later shift the blame to Yahoo,  saying the hackers exploited a leaked database. The fact that a leading cryptocurrency developer is using Yahoo in the first place should be a pretty big warning sign by itself.
At least he wasn’t the only idiot in the room.
Urgent: My account was hacked. Twitter has been notified. The coin of the day tweet was not me. As you all know… I am not doing a coin of the day anymore!!!!
— John McAfee (@officialmcafee) December 27, 2017
Brown Flag No. 3: Please Contribute To Our Moon Fund
Most of the cryptocurrency world was ready to give XVG the benefit of the doubt. Sure, they had some green programmers, but they’d put too much work into it to exit scam. And then:
….A global organization with a vast network of high traffic sites is looking to enter the cryptocurrency market and form a strategic business alliance with Verge as the preferred form of secure payment method, offering a quick and private means of transaction to hundreds of millions of potential consumers daily. This partnership represents an enormous potential market with a global reach that will compete with multiple fiat currencies. We are eager to see this partnership materialize and invite everyone in the Verge community to support this groundbreaking initiative. Help us accelerate this crowdfunding effort and reach our target by donating coins today.
That’s the future of money, rattling a tin cup and promising to make you rich. In other words, your Verge could be the new Bitcoin—but only if you give us more money.
Justin Sunerok’s fundraising strategy. I mean, Justin Vendetta. How is that a real name?
This is textbook Nigerian prince-ing,  almost as sketchy as the time Elon Musk promised to send me ten Ethereum. He still hasn’t paid me back, but hopefully the Binance guy will pull through. 
“……..and the worst part is, I signed an NDA so I can’t tell anybody yet who we have this massive potential partnership yet with is….”
The secret “partnership” attracted wide speculation within the Verge community, and wider ridicule outside of it. Could it be Amazon? Microsoft? Or some fake shell corporation in the Bahamas? After much well-deserved roasting Bizarro-Justin produced the following, totally credible explanation, courtesy of his rectum:
We were talking about doing a crowdfund to get Verge supported on Ledger Nano, and uhhh, then I got an email from somebody at a big company, and uhh,  they said, “hey, we’ve been checking out cryptocurrencies for the last few months and we really like Verge. Can you come talk to us?” And I said, sure. And I met up with them, everything kind of worked out, and they said, “alright, if you guys can raise the funds to cover the integration and some marketing and stuff, we can make this all happen.”….and the worst part is, we signed an NDA so I can’t tell anybody yet who we have this massive potential partnership yet with is.
And later:
” I think that this is the largest adoption of a non-top three coin  to ever happen. It could be the largest adoption of a virtual cryptocurrency ever…..”
The secret to a good lie is making it believable, but Justin can’t even get that part right. Can anyone imagine a conversation like this happening in a real business run by grownups?
CEO: “We’ve decided to make our foray into cryptocurrency. As you know, this is a high-stakes business deal and we can only partner with the most sophisticated, professional development teams. We certainly can’t endanger our brand with a second rate partnership. How’s the research going?
Minion: “Well boss, there’s Bitcoin, but the fees are kind of high and its market dominance is slipping. Plus we have no idea if the Lightning Network’s going to work. We could try partnering with Ethereum, it’s not had quite as much time to prove itself but the market cap has grown by quite a lot. There’s one called Dash too..”
Boss: “Dash is out, they’re wasting their money on some sci fi show. Any other promising contenders in the top ten?”
Minion: “Well, there’s one called Bitcoin Cash, which forked from Bitcoin last year.
BOSS: “Bcash. LOL. What else? Anything in the top twenty?”
M:“No, but according to John McAfee there’s a one-year old privacy coin developed by volunteers. It’s unproven, doesn’t actually offer any real privacy, and keeps missing deadlines. It’s called Verge.
BOSS:“That’s just the kind of project we’re looking for! Let’s just hope they don’t get hacked in the next few days.”
Brown Clouds on the Horizon
Any doubts or reservations about XVG’s toilet quality should have been flushed away last week:
We had a small hash attack that lasted about 3 hours earlier this morning, it's been cleared up now. We will be implementing even more redundancy checks for things of this nature in the future! $XVG #vergefam
— vergecurrency (@vergecurrency) April 4, 2018
The “small” attack, which actually lasted for thirteen hours, exploited a loophole in Verge’s rules which allowed the hacker to successfully mine empty blocks in less than a second. Sunerok did not address the hack until it was discussed on Bitcointalk.
Instead of forking back to a pre-attack state, Sunerok panicked and pushed an update to the node software. The update caused an unexpected hard fork, which paralyzed the network, froze many users’ wallets and allowed the hackers to walk away with a million dollars in tokens.
Paradoxically, XVG tokens continued to soar on most exchanges, for the simple reason that the tokens were still impossible to move.
As usual, Verge downplayed the enormity of their fuckup while continuing to upsell their “groundbreaking” partnership. Meanwhile, somewhere in Silicon Valley, we can only guess what when down with Verge’s totally-real partnership when the protocol’s Swiss-cheese security was revealed. 
Diagnosis: Get your Umbrella
Until recently, even the deepest skeptics  didn’t really question the honesty of the Verge team. Although it had all the signs of a naive project by get-rich-quick amateurs, there was no reason to think it was an intentional scam.
That perception changed as the Verge team alternated between bungling their software and deceiving their investors. Their inability to demonstrate any technical skill–besides digging their hole deeper–make us wonder if they hired Firano the Bomber to help with the coding.
The mystery hack also set off alarm bells, and not just because of the shitty coding. The timing of the attack–and the strange decision to let the “hacker” walk with the coins–seem to echo the bad omens that foreshadowed the collapses of Mt Gox, BitGrail, BitConnect, Davorcoin and many bigger projects. 
 The only way to improve this project would be to exit scam, which at least would prove that Bizarro-Justin can get one thing right. On a scale of one to BitConnect, Verge gets a score of Nine Carlos.
Seriously. Get out while you can.
https://ift.tt/2ITHZ1n
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