#DART AI Review | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollerinna · 10 months ago

Text

WOULD YOU LIKE AN ALMOND JOY .ᐣ

( black noir x gn!crime analyst reader )

summary: after a long day of work, you try to unwind by watching your comfort show, but your solitude is interrupted by yet another visit from noir, who seems to be finding more and more excuses to spend time with you… (includes a C.AI bot as part 2 below!)

wordcount: 2k

tags: brief mention of NSFW pop-up ads, nerdy n’ socially awkward reader, noir’s disdain for almond joys but he makes up for it at the end <3

It had been a long day at the crime analytics office in Vought. As the sun began to set, exhaustion crept over you after reviewing incident report after report. Your eyes strained from the blue glare of your computer screen. You knew you had promised your boss you would organize the ever-growing database, but the tiny voice of procrastination was pleading for rest before your overworked brain turned into a pile of mush.

Rather than more paperwork—you, being the slacker of all slackers in this department, decided a well-deserved break was in order. And what better way to recharge than turning off the noggin and filling it with good ol’ fashioned mindless entertainment?

With a few tired clicks of your mouse, you booted up your go-to streaming site, which was none other than 123movies. Scrolling through the options, your cursor hovered over the play button of your favorite trashy drama. The kind of cheesy, perfectly predictable melodrama spun from the worst of amateur YA plots. It was practically comfort food for your fatigued mind, just what you needed to loosen up after the mental marathon that was this long day.

As the opening credits began to roll, your computer began to whir and hiss like an overtaxed engine, emitting gusts of unusually hot air from the vents. Suddenly, its screen slowed to a sluggish crawl, cluttered with a barrage of not-so-savory pop-up ads. Barely a minute in, the pixels already scrambled to form images better to left unseen—half naked women in risqué yet tacky mermaid-like attire, claiming they were ‘just around the corner and ready for a good aquatic fuck.’

First of all, what the absolute living hell is an “aquatic fuck”??

Did you even want to know? And most importantly, what happened to the ad blocker you installed just the other day? Judging by the contents, you had a sneaking suspicion that slimy, sea-dwelling degenerate, The Deep, had tampered with your computer… yet again.

“For the love of-… what’s with all these pop-up ads?” you muttered under your breath as excessively explicit ads crowded out the episode. Your eyes darted furtively around the room to check for wandering glances, hoping against hope that none of your coworkers had noticed the unwanted filth invading your screen. Heart pounding, you squeezed your chair closer to your monitor into a makeshift barricade, shielding the display as best you could while hastily clicking away at the intrusive ads.

As you hurriedly closed the remaining windows, an ominous shadow fell across the screen. Dreading what—or who—might be behind you, you slowly swiveled your chair around to find Black Noir's stoic stare boring into your own.

You stifled a yelp as you instinctively clutched the armrests, catching yourself on the edge of your seat before an ungainly spill to the floor. Noir had a way of materializing without warning, and it never failed to unnerve.

“N-Noir!” you managed, inwardly cringing as your voice broke on his name. “Fancy seeing you in these parts. I was just taking a quick break and y’know- stretching ‘em brain cells.” You tried for a lighthearted chuckle, but it emerged as more of a strained squeak that faded into an anxious hum.

With a jerky flurry of clicks and the browser minimized from view, whatever dignity you still retained disappearing along with it. All that did remain was you praying to the heavens above that he hadn't noticed its questionable contents (even if he most definitely had and simply chose not to comment)

When Noir offered no response, you of course charmingly barreled ahead in your frazzled daze. “But anyways, s-sorry about that… how uh, can I help you today?” your words tumbled out in a breathless rush, punctuated by a shrill laugh you hoped disguised the mortification simmering beneath.

Noir cocked his head, observing you with that same silent intensity. You fidgeted, hands twisting in knotted discomfort, the heat in your ears now engulfing your entire face. Was it the invasive pop-ups that had you squirming in your seat? Or the fact he could snuff out your existence faster than you can say “workers’ comp”?

Either way, beneath the weight of his stare, you already felt as if you were some peculiar, freakish creature pinned for study, rather than some bumbling employee just trying to unwind and watch their comfort show.

And to him, you indeed were a fascinating, bizarre little human.

Mercifully, Noir chose to extend a folder toward you, putting an end to your somewhat pathetic withering. You accepted it with a wordless nod, nearly sagging in your chair as tension drained from your shoulders.

Whirling towards the familiar clutter of your desk once more, you pretended absorption in the folder’s material, hoping this signaled Noir’s leave. After all, has anyone seen the state of you? It certainly wasn’t a flattering one. Yet from the corner of your eye, you detected no movement, no receding footsteps—his shadowy form remained statuesquely in place.

Believe it or not, this has been becoming a thing, a growing habit of late—and a suspicious one at that. Lately his breaks had grown longer, minutes lengthening to quarters of an hour, all spent hovering at your desk as you worked. However, his focus was solely on watching and observing you. He never exhibited a hint of thought or motive for his reason there, only leaving you with questions that seemed to multiply by each and every visit.

Noir, on the other hand, was somehow utterly convinced that you and him were two peas in a tightly-knit pod. He swore you two were best of buds for life—even if "life" so far had only amounted to the past two weeks' worth of half-hour stretches where he silently observed your work from the corner.

Ironically, you didn’t have the slightest inkling of how he really felt. Instead, you always assumed that he, like most supes, regarded you as little more than a puny mortal—a fragile, near-useless sack of flesh and bones whose skull he was one misstep away from caving in with bare hands.

But nope, Noir was simply here to bless you, the nerdy but cute crime analyst, with his presence—his rather… unsettling presence.

The familiar hush settled as you reluctantly returned focus to the task at hand. Hocus-pocus-focus, you chanted mentally, peeling away the last shreds of stray thoughts to tap into the zone of productivity. Unfurling the dossier Noir provided, you began sifting through documents for insight on his purpose in approaching you. Meanwhile, a flick of movement in the edge of your vision revealed Noir's attention veer off course, the almond joy perched beside your keyboard capturing his notice.

You tensed, hocus-pocus-focus breaking, all too aware of past disappearances of snacks in these briefings. Sure enough, his hand drifted noiselessly toward the candy bar, no doubt spurred by ingrained impulse to dispose of it per his usual custom. But you'd grown wise to his methods by now.

Not again, you sighed inwardly, snatching the almond joy and cradling it protectively as if it were your dear, beloved child.

Noir made no move to withdraw, palm outstretched expectantly. You frowned, struggling to keep frustration at bay. "Please, come on- not this time!.. It's my last one for the day." Brows pinching, your tone threatened to rise before steadying with a slow and calm inhale. No use losing composure over candy, no matter the principle. So all you could do was peer beseechingly at Noir in silent appeal, legs jittering restlessly under your desk in building apprehension.

Unfortunately, you found no signs of leniency in his obscured face—only his hand beckoning relentlessly for the almond joy. You plea was once again met with stony resolve, as if he was internally distressed by the mere presence of it. What was he? Deathly allergic to almond joys or something?

With a resigned breath, you delivered the almond joy towards Noir's waiting glove, unable to hide the disappointment dimming your features. Your lips curled into a slight pout, gaze sinking heavy into your lap at being parted from the treat. Though Noir was never one for words, it really didn’t take a rocket scientist to see you felt bullied into submission by his demands. At the end of the day, what power did a measly analyst like yourself hold against one of the Seven? As your fingers uncurled, releasing the candy into Noir's grasp, you couldn't help but feel a bit put upon, even if that wasn’t his intention at all.

Noir was well aware of the upset feelings his request had caused, so in an attempt to remedy the situation, his arm was sent in a backwards reach for the notepad he often used to communicate. However, he found himself at a loss as words eluded him, his thoughts swirling in frustrating circles of “What should I even say?”—muddled and incoherent. For a moment he stared at you, mask betraying no emotion as he grappled to find the right words, despite the prick of guilt nibbling at his conscience. Then, lacking any better option, he simply tossed the offending candy into the trash, perhaps with more force than intended.

Clearly, socializing was not Noir’s strong suit.

With no further acknowledgment, Noir spun on his heel and marched away. You watched his retreating, rigid form with discomfort clenching your insides, eyes falling onto the lonely candy discarded in the trash, its colorful wrapper mocking your current disheartened state.

Wearily, you turned away from the almond joy, redirecting your attention toward the computer as a means to divert your now soured mood. Maximizing the browser, you hoped that your planned show may have had time to load during the interaction. But upon inspecting the screen, you found the video remained stubbornly stalled, stuck on buffering dots and refusing to roll despite the minutes passed.

Just. Peachy.

One (super)human encounter had sucked the very life source out of your dog-tired body, and now this. It was really shaping up to be one of those days.

Thoroughly worn out, you gently laid your head down onto the desk, pillowing it against the crook of your folded arms as eyelids slid shut. All you craved was to simply sleep away the remaining time until you could finally escape this wretched shift and retreat to the sanctuary of your home sweet home.

─────────────────

As your shift wound down to its end, you were finally stirring from your slumber. Rubbing the sleep from your bleary eyes, your blurred vision sharpened to show your colleagues had long since departed while you were snoozing away.

Rising and squaring your shoulders, you began to gather your belongings in preparation to leave as well. Once you had collected everything and lifted to your feet, something in the far corner of your desk caught your eye. Approaching for a closer look in the dim lighting, the fuzzy outline gradually came into focus—a cluttered collection of Hershey's Kisses, their jumbled placement grouped to form the shape of a heart.

You blinked in bewilderment, rubbing your eyes once more to ensure you weren't imagining things. Stepping closer, you spotted a sticky note nestled within the heart of chocolates, scrawled upon in a crude, blocky hand. At first, you assumed it was some silly prank from one of your coworkers, but you knew you recognized the handwriting anywhere—it was Noir's.

Gingerly, you plucked the sticky note from the desk, lifting it to your line of sight to read the message. “Kisses taste better than almond joys…Sorry.” you read softly, your voice trailing off as confusion crept in.

Designed as a very apparent flirty gesture, the intent behind the note and chocolates still managed to whoosh straight over your head. As always seemed the case, even the most painfully obvious social cues could so easily evade your understanding—this proving no exception.

You slipped the sticky note into your pocket, then selected a foil-wrapped Kiss from the pile. Gently rolling the chocolate between your fingers, you unwrapped it and popped one into your mouth. You took time to savor its light cream filling beneath a smooth outer shell, face crinkling in thought and head tilting as you considered your verdict. “Eh… I’d beg to differ.” you mused with a shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you took your leave from the office.

-------☆-------

Pssst- likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

-------☆-------

a C.AI bot as your very own part 2 where you thank Noir the following day:

a/n: saw somewhere that kisses don’t contain nuts but then I also saw someone else say they actually do??? So let’s just pretend the kisses Noir chose are completely nut-free for the sake of the plot 😭

also, the reader is very much based off Anika if it wasn’t obvious enough haha! She’s so y/n coded 😤💗

♡ divider credits: @/ianrkives

2K notes · View notes

thaoworra · 11 months ago

Text

The Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association recently released the poems that made it to the finalist stage for consideration for the 2024 Rhysling Awards for Short and Long Speculative Poems of the year. Congratulations to all of the nominees! This will be the 46th year these awards have been conferred!

Short Poems (50 finalists)

Attn: Prime Real Estate Opportunity!, Emily Ruth Verona, Under Her Eye: A Women in Horror Poetry Collection Volume II

The Beauty of Monsters, Angela Liu, Small Wonders 1

The Blight of Kezia, Patricia Gomes, HWA Poetry Showcase X

The Day We All Died, A Little, Lisa Timpf, Radon 5

Deadweight, Jack Cooper, Propel 7

Dear Mars, Susan L. Lin, The Sprawl Mag 1.2

Dispatches from the Dragon's Den, Mary Soon Lee, Star*Line 46.2

Dr. Jekyll, West Ambrose, Thin Veil Press December

First Eclipse: Chang-O and the Jade Hare, Emily Jiang, Uncanny 53

Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness, Ali Trotta, The Deadlands 31

Gods of the Garden, Steven Withrow, Spectral Realms 19

The Goth Girls' Gun Gang, Marisca Pichette, The Dread Machine 3.2

Guiding Star, Tim Jones, Remains to be Told: Dark Tales of Aotearoa, ed. Lee Murray (Clan Destine Press)

Hallucinations Gifted to Me by Heatstroke, Morgan L. Ventura, Banshee 15

hemiplegic migraine as willing human sacrifice, Ennis Rook Bashe, Eternal Haunted Summer Winter Solstice

Hi! I am your Cortical Update!, Mahaila Smith, Star*Line 46.3

How to Make the Animal Perfect?, Linda D. Addison, Weird Tales 100

I Dreamt They Cast a Trans Girl to Give Birth to the Demon, Jennessa Hester, HAD October

Invasive, Marcie Lynn Tentchoff, Polar Starlight 9

kan-da-ka, Nadaa Hussein, Apparition Lit 23

Language as a Form of Breath, Angel Leal, Apparition Lit October

The Lantern of September, Scott Couturier, Spectral Realms 19

Let Us Dream, Myna Chang, Small Wonders 3

The Magician's Foundling, Angel Leal, Heartlines Spec 2

The Man with the Stone Flute, Joshua St. Claire, Abyss & Apex 87

Mass-Market Affair, Casey Aimer, Star*Line 46.4

Mom's Surprise, Francis W. Alexander, Tales from the Moonlit Path June

A Murder of Crows, Alicia Hilton, Ice Queen 11

No One Now Remembers, Geoffrey Landis, Fantasy and Science Fiction Nov./Dec.

orion conquers the sky, Maria Zoccula, On Spec 33.2

Pines in the Wind, Karen Greenbaum-Maya, The Beautiful Leaves (Bamboo Dart Press)

The Poet Responds to an Invitation from the AI on the Moon, T.D. Walker, Radon Journal 5

A Prayer for the Surviving, Marisca Pichette, Haven Speculative 9

Pre-Nuptial, F. J. Bergmann, The Vampiricon (Mind's Eye Publications)

The Problem of Pain, Anna Cates, Eye on the Telescope 49

The Return of the Sauceress, F. J. Bergmann, The Flying Saucer Poetry Review February

Sea Change, David C. Kopaska-Merkel and Ann K. Schwader, Scifaikuest May

Seed of Power, Linda D. Addison, The Book of Witches ed. Jonathan Strahan (Harper Collins)

Sleeping Beauties, Carina Bissett, HWA Poetry Showcase X

Solar Punks, J. D. Harlock, The Dread Machine 3.1

Song of the Last Hour, Samuel A. Betiku, The Deadlands 22

Sphinx, Mary Soon Lee, Asimov's September/October

Storm Watchers (a drabbun), Terrie Leigh Relf, Space & Time

Sunflower Astronaut, Charlie Espinosa, Strange Horizons July

Three Hearts as One, G. O. Clark, Asimov's May/June

Troy, Carolyn Clink, Polar Starlight 12

Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary, John Grey, Medusa's Kitchen September

Under World, Jacqueline West, Carmina Magazine September

Walking in the Starry World, John Philip Johnson, Orion's Belt May

Whispers in Ink, Angela Yuriko Smith, Whispers from Beyond (Crystal Lake Publishing)

Long Poems (25 finalists)

Archivist of a Lost World, Gerri Leen, Eccentric Orbits 4

As the witch burns, Marisca Pichette, Fantasy 87

Brigid the Poet, Adele Gardner, Eternal Haunted Summer Summer Solstice

Coding a Demi-griot (An Olivian Measure), Armoni “Monihymn” Boone, Fiyah 26

Cradling Fish, Laura Ma, Strange Horizons May

Dream Visions, Melissa Ridley Elmes, Eccentric Orbits 4

Eight Dwarfs on Planet X, Avra Margariti, Radon Journal 3

The Giants of Kandahar, Anna Cates, Abyss & Apex 88

How to Haunt a Northern Lake, Lora Gray, Uncanny 55

Impostor Syndrome, Robert Borski, Dreams and Nightmares 124

The Incessant Rain, Rhiannon Owens, Evermore 3

Interrogation About A Monster During Sleep Paralysis, Angela Liu, Strange Horizons November

Little Brown Changeling, Lauren Scharhag, Aphelion 283

A Mere Million Miles from Earth, John C. Mannone, Altered Reality April

Pilot, Akua Lezli Hope, Black Joy Unbound eds. Stephanie Andrea Allen & Lauren Cherelle (BLF Press)

Protocol, Jamie Simpher, Small Wonders 5

Sleep Dragon, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

Slow Dreaming, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

St. Sebastian Goes To Confession, West Ambrose, Mouthfeel 1

Value Measure, Joseph Halden and Rhonda Parrish, Dreams and Nightmares 125

A Weather of My Own Making, Nnadi Samuel, Silver Blade 56

Welcoming the New Girl, Beth Cato, Penumbric October

What You Find at the Center, Elizabeth R McClellan, Haven Spec Magazine 12

The Witch Makes Her To-Do List, Theodora Goss, Uncanny 50

The Year It Changed, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Star*Line 46.4

Voting for the Rhysling Award begins July 1; a link to the ballot will be sent with the Rhysling Anthology, as well as with the July issue of Star*Line. More information on the Rhysling Award can be found here.

758 notes · View notes

luckyroll3 · 2 days ago

Text

Down Puppy Chapter 1: Burnout

Masterlist and Summary

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, graphic language, etc. Author chooses to not extensively tag in order to preserve some elements of storytelling.

Word Count: 9,311

You’re teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown, your eyes darting between the table of stone-faced executives and the power-tripping projector that refuses to focus. Chris’ calm voice anchors you, dissecting the project's progress with surgical precision. You try to keep your cool, but the deadlines are closing in like a SWAT team, ready to take you hostage.

"This AI model should outperform our Q2 projections if we get the algorithms right," Chris says, like he’s discussing dinner plans. You envy his composure. His voice has that confidence-oozing quality that makes investors open their wallets and your heart occasionally falter. He's got a commanding presence, one you wish you could fully lean on right now.

"We need those ‘right’ yesterday," you counter, feeling the words churn in your gut. You're both standing, pacing like caged animals, while the others stare and type and frown.

Chris glances at you, the corner of his mouth hinting at a smile. "I can work miracles, but even I need a full day, baby."

The executives chuckle, and the tension temporarily thaws. You're grateful Chris knows when to diffuse tension in a room, but the clock ticks so loudly in your head it's a wonder you're not bleeding from your ears.

You stab the projector button again, and the graphs flicker, graphs that show everything you’re trying to achieve and everything that could go wrong. The room buzzes with potential and risk, and your usual cocktail of anxiety and adrenaline. You gulp it down, eyes on Chris as he holds the reins and hands you just enough slack to stay upright.

"What if we bring in more people on this? Reassign resources from the lesser projects?" one of the men asks, probably hoping for a gold star in his performance review.

You sigh, long and deep. "Yes, we could. But… We’d need more capital, more time. If we don’t—"

"—burn out," Chris finishes, pragmatic as always. He's right, of course, and that irks you.

The idea of burning out sounds delightful compared to another disaster at this stage. You run a hand through your hair; you’d given up on the bun hours ago, frustrated that this meeting was still going, and it was now a tangled mess of curls.

"Or maybe just more coffee," you mutter, collapsing into a chair and letting the leather swallow you.

Chris watches you sink into the chair. “Let’s take a break,” He calls out to the room. “We’ll regroup in ten.”

You mouth a thank you in his direction. You don’t know what you would do without this man.

Before you can catch your breath, the door bursts open with Felix, arms crammed with files and his iPad, phone cradled between his shoulder and ear, and a fierce glare for anyone thinking of getting in his way. For such a small man, people were terrified when he had that look in his eye.

"Thought I was going to have to send in a rescue team," he quips, blonde hair falling into his eyes like a rom-com lead who got lost on the way to a photoshoot.

You barely suppress a grin. "Can that still be arranged?"

He dumps the paperwork in front of you like a delivery boy dropping off a stack of unwanted pizzas. "For when you come up for air," he says, then hands Chris another stack, though half the size, a fact you don’t miss.

Chris raises an eyebrow. "And the prize for most overworked goes to?"

"The CEO’s right-hand man," Felix retorts. “What she doesn’t take care of, you do. You know how this works Christopher,” Felix says dramatically, causing Chris to smirk. Felix turns back to you. "Since this project meeting is running long, I pushed your afternoon meetings. Again."

"And if I were to combust?" you ask, trying to make sense of the papers without actually looking at them.

Felix doesn't miss a beat. "Then I inherit the company, your penthouse, and all your savings. Remember, I had you sign all those contracts turning everything over to me?"

“Is that what those were?” you ask with a chuckle. At this rate, you’d give him everything right now so that you could get a full night’s rest.

Laughter ripples through the room, and even the tight-asses look human for a second. But the chaos has stirred the stress pot, and it starts to boil over. Messages, emails, notifications—your life reduced to a never-ending to-do list managed by a clipboard with legs.

The walls close in again. "What’s next?" you demand, desperate to rip the band-aid off.

"For today? Partner call with Japan at three. Market briefing at four. Media strategy five to six-thirty," Felix lists, each word a dagger to your soul. His deep voice is impressive when he's rattling off death sentences.

Chris stands, arms crossed, exuding relaxed authority. "And at six-thirty?"

"You drop dead," Felix deadpans, without a hint of remorse.

The building chaos presses down, thick and suffocating. Chris looks at you, a knowing glint in his eyes, the look he gives when he knows you've reached your breaking point.

You massage your temples, feeling the burn of expectation in every bone. "And I thought this meeting would be the death of me," you sigh.

Chris chuckles, his steady gaze a lifeline. He always seems to find the humor in these moments, even when you can't. The world feels just a little less daunting with him by your side, even if he is annoying as hell sometimes.

Felix snaps a picture of your tormented expression. "For the memorial," he says with a grin.

You shoot him a look that says you'd like to throttle him. "Can we get back to work now?"

"Can you?" Felix asks, and Chris joins him in a conspiratorial glance. Felix jumps back on his phone and heads out of the room.

You roll your eyes but feel a small sense of relief. Whatever happens, you'll get through it. With the help of these two. Probably.

****

The room empties like the final scene of a disaster movie, leaving you and Chris in the wreckage of charts and schedules. You exhale for the first time in what feels like years, sinking into the nearest chair and letting the tension dissolve. Chris lounges across from you, cool and collected, as if he didn’t just save your ass in front of half the company.

"Thought they’d never leave," he says, feet propped on the table, turning executive elegance into boyish charm. You remember why you keep him around—it’s not just his mind that’s sharp.

"And here I thought you were their favorite," you shoot back, but it's half-hearted, lazy. You let your eyes close, savoring the silence.

Chris’ voice cuts through, gentle but teasing. "You’re wound tighter than a cheap watch. More than usual."

You groan, knowing where this is going. He’s been hinting for weeks. "Not you too. Felix has already given me an earful."

"Maybe you should listen," he says, spinning a pen like a mini-baton. "He's not wrong, you know," Chris says, leaning forward. "You can’t keep running on fumes forever."

You open one eye, peering at him through a curtain of disheveled curls. "I’m fine. Just a rough patch."

"You used to be a better liar. A rough patch that’s lasted how long now?" He cocks his head, genuinely concerned. You hate that he can read you this well. "You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit that."

I’m fine, you want to say, but you both know that's bullshit. Instead, you sit up, reluctantly, and run a hand through your hair again, trying to tame the curls back into something approximating professional. "I just need to get through this quarter. Then maybe I’ll take a long weekend."

Chris laughs, a single bark that sounds almost painful. "A long weekend? You need more than sixty hours of R&R, babe. When was the last time you took a real break?"

"Chris—"

He rises from his chair, the leather creaking softly, and moves behind you. His hands, warm and firm, settle on your tense shoulders, kneading gently at first. A wave of relief washes over you as he begins the massage, releasing some of the stress you’ve been carrying. You feel gratitude for his magic fingers.

“When was the last time?” he murmurs, his thumbs pressing expertly into a particularly stubborn knot just below your shoulder blade. You wince slightly before the pain morphs into soothing comfort.

Your mind drifts back, sifting through memories like flipping through old photographs. Vacations had blurred into work trips, which had morphed into staycations where you’d inevitably end up back at your desk. The last non-working holiday you can remember is…

"Don't say it," Chris warns, reading your mind with uncanny accuracy. "If you say Cabo, I'm going to throw something."

"Fine, I won’t say it." You’d all taken a trip to Cabo to celebrate when your company, NextGen, received its first big investor. Eight years ago. After which the company took off.

NextGen exploded from a tiny startup into an industry titan, launching several products, like your AI-driven Personal Assistant app, each one a bigger hit than the last. Investors couldn't throw money at you fast enough, and growth came with a price. Your life became a relentless cycle of meetings, tech summits, and all-nighters fueled by adrenaline and caffeine. You were living the dream you’d envisioned, and it was a nightmare of your own making. Work was no longer a part of your life; it had swallowed it whole. The idea of a real vacation had turned into a fantasy as distant as a shooting star, impossibly bright yet unattainable.

You continue to think, delving deeper into your memories. “I had the weekend in Tahoe.”

"That was three years ago," he counters, immediate and precise. Of course he remembers; he probably has a timeline of your life stored away in that annoyingly efficient, competent, lockbox brain of his.

"Tahoe sucked anyway," you mutter under your breath. It had been a disaster of constant phone calls and emergency Zoom meetings. And the sex with your then boyfriend had been shit. You’d come back more tired and drained than when you left. “Mmmph,” you groan as Chris’ fingers locate another tight spot. “Stay right there,” you whisper and he obliges, his hands working wonders on the strained muscles of your neck and shoulders.

“Listen, I’m serious. Take tonight off,” he insists, his voice steady and sincere. “Go home, relax, pour yourself some scotch, and do absolutely nothing."

You let his words linger like the last sip of wine, savoring their potential. "Did you not see the stack of papers that gorgeous freckled blonde man handed me? There’s too much to do," you say, but even to your own ears it sounds like an excuse.

Chris sighs, deep and parental. "Look, all I’m saying is that you need to take care of yourself. The company will survive if you take one night off."

You chew on this, imagining a night where you could just breathe. One night does sound heavenly. "Maybe," you concede, already half-dreaming of your couch and a mindless TV show.

"And tomorrow," he adds, not missing a beat. His fingers move to your head, and he starts to give you a scalp massage. You melt under his touch, a puddle of overworked CEO in a too-large chair. “And while you’re at it, go get laid for Christ’s sake.”

You laugh, a soft, disbelieving sound. "Oh, is that all? Just take two to three days off and find someone to fuck? Easy peasy."

"I’m serious," he says, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. "You’re like a pressure cooker about to explode. You need a release."

The massage is doing dangerous things to your resolve. You’re too relaxed to fight him, too comfortable to argue. He’s not wrong; the tension in your body has been a constant companion, tight as a noose. Your mind drifts to the last time you were with someone, the awkward tangle of limbs and the unsatisfying finish. It’s been six months, probably more.

"You make it sound so simple," you say, closing your eyes again.

His fingers weave through your hair, kneading your scalp with expert precision. It’s very intimate, the way he’s touching you. If anyone were to walk by the conference room right now, they’d assume you were more than just friends. Most people who meet the two of you for the first time often think you are more than just friends and business partners.

"It is simple," he says, whispering in your ear. "Take a break. Have a fling."

You roll your head to glance up at him. "I thought that’s why I have you," you say, your tone a mix of teasing and something more suggestive.

He laughs, a rich, warm sound that melts a fraction of your stress. "That was one time. Six years ago. And I distinctly remember you firing me the next morning."

"That’s only because you’re impossible to work with. And it was eight times.” You remember the chaos of the morning after the first time you’d fucked, the hurried dressing, and the too-honest confessions between two people who had been each other’s best friends and confidentes since you were 17. “And obviously your firing didn’t stick."

"I’m impossible to resist," he counters, that familiar flirtation flickering between you. “And it was eleven times. Twelve if you count the…”

“I don’t!” you say interrupting him. Of course he would remember the exact amount of times the two of you fucked. Because he remembers everything and never lets you forget. That month had been a whirlwind. The sexual tension between the two of you had been at its peak and you both recklessly gave in to it after being platonic for over six years. Eleven times. And that one time that he— you shake the memory away. “You’re not that irresistible,” you say, barely convincing yourself.

“Oh, I am.” He throws his arm around your shoulder, that dimpled smile of his on display. The smile is disarmingly genuine, the kind that used to make your heart do stupid things. "Which is why you keep me so busy I can't get into trouble." His breath is warm against your cheek.

"You still manage to get in lots of trouble," you say softly, hyper-aware of how close he's leaned in, his eyes locked on yours with that unwavering focus that could buckle knees. Just not yours. Not anymore.

You think about the times you've seen him out, always with someone new, never alone for long. The way he balances his life with an ease you envy. The way he can switch from playful to serious in an instant, like now, where beneath the banter you can sense his true worry for you.

He plops in the chair next to yours, breaking the charged moment. He shrugs, the motion making the muscle beneath his shirt ripple. "Honestly, I'd offer, but I don't know if you could still handle me."

You smack him with a folder, and he’s all mock offense. But under the familiar push and pull, you hear his genuine concern.

"Handle you?" you scoff, but your mind flashes to that first night, to the surprising tenderness he’d shown, mixed with the unrestrained passion. You’d been curious what it would be like with someone you trusted so completely, and he’d exceeded every expectation. "I handled you just fine, as I recall."

"You did. But that was then. Now you’re all knotted up and exhausted. It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage."

You study him, wondering if he’s serious. Would you take him up on it if he were? But you know he’s not serious. That month together had been a fucking disaster. The two of you were great together, just not when sex was involved. Lots of fights had erupted that month, and despite how good the sex was, you both decided that you were better off as friends and business partners, nothing else. Yet, the thought tempts you more than it should.

You realize he’s right, and that annoys you almost as much as how much you don’t want him to be; you’re a fucking mess right now, and ready to burst. But could you really find the release you need with him, without complicating everything else? The idea is tempting, a whispering little devil that’s growing louder. But you know the answer is no.

"You’re very noble," you say, perhaps more cuttingly than you intend. "Don’t worry, I’m not looking for charity."

"I know," he says, his tone softening. "I’m just saying you have options. That’s all."

You let that hang in the air, the unspoken offer, the history between you, the possible futures. He’s always been a constant, a rock, even when you didn’t deserve it.

He leans back, fingers interlacing behind his head. "I hear there’s a whole world outside the office, you know. Full of interesting people. You might like it."

When you don’t respond he continues.

"It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, huh?" His tone is softer now, slipping past your defenses. “Almost eight months? The conference in Boston? Dude from SpaceX?”

He knows you better than you know yourself. So it’s definitely been more than 6 months. “Do you just have every detail of my life recorded somewhere?” you ask incredulously. He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t need to look at him beside you to know that he’s smirking.

"Come on, you know I only keep track because I care," he says, and you can almost believe the innocent tone he’s trying to sell. Almost.

"It’s been an eternity," you finally admit, staring at the ceiling like it might hold the answers to your life choices. Or lack thereof. “I haven’t even been able to get an orgasm from masturbation.”

His lips twitch. "Thought so. You poor thing."

You shake your head, almost laughing, almost crying. "Is it that obvious?"

"To me? Always."

"Great," you mutter. "So everyone else can tell too?"

"Everyone else isn’t me," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "But yeah, you’re walking around like a zombie. A very sexy, high-functioning, super tense zombie, but a zombie nonetheless."

"Thanks," you say, rolling your eyes. "That makes me feel so much better."

"I’m just saying," he continues, undeterred. "It’s not just the lack of sleep or the constant stress. You’re missing something essential. Something that used to make you… you."

You bite your lip, not wanting to go down this path but knowing he’s already dragged you there. "People change, Chris. I’ve got more responsibilities now. It’s not as simple as just—"

"Fucking someone and getting it over with? Letting loose every once in a while?" he interrupts. "I know. But it would help, is all I’m saying. It’s not healthy to keep all that stress and tension in your body. Working out and yoga helps, but they can’t get at everything. Balance, remember? You taught me that."

You sigh, a long, drawn-out release of air that takes a bit of your remaining willpower with it. "I miss it, you know. The balance. The fun."

"I know you do," he says, softer now, almost tender. "And I miss seeing you happy."

You let that hang in the air, heavy and fraught with more than just the current conversation. He’s always had a way of getting under your skin, of making you confront things you’d rather ignore.

"It’s not just the sex," you say quietly. "It’s everything. I don’t even know what makes me happy anymore."

You sit in the silence that follows, heavy with unspoken truths. Chris has been with you from the beginning, through the late nights and early mornings, the triumphs and the fuck-ups. He’s seen you at your best and your absolute worst, and still he stays. That kind of loyalty is rare, and you’re not sure you deserve it.

"You know," he starts, hesitating for once. "You don’t have to do this alone."

"Do what?" you ask, though you already know what he means. The company, the stress, the life you’ve built that’s slowly crushing you.

"Everything," he says simply. "We’re a team, remember?"

A team. The words should be comforting, but they prick at you like tiny needles. You’ve always prided yourself on being independent, on shouldering the load and pushing through no matter what. Admitting that you need help, that you’re struggling, feels like a defeat.

"I don’t want to put more on you," you say, and you mean it. Chris is already running the show most days while you drown in a sea of other obligations. If he left, you’d be well and truly fucked.

He shrugs, the motion making his shirt stretch across his chest. "I can handle it. You know I can."

Of course he can. Chris is capable of anything, and that’s part of the problem. If he took over, the company might run even better than it does now. Where would that leave you?

"I just…" you trail off, not sure how to voice the fear that’s gnawing at your insides. That if you step away, even for a little while, you’ll realize that you’re not as indispensable as you thought. That they don’t need you. That he doesn’t need you.

"... need to trust us," he finishes for you. "To trust me."

You bite your lip, weighing his words. Trust has never come easy for you, but if there’s anyone in this world you do trust, it’s Chris. He’s never let you down, even when you’ve been an absolute tyrant.

"You know I trust you," you say quietly. "It’s me I’m not so sure about."

He reaches for your chair and rolls it closer to his. Then he swivels it until you’re facing him, your knees in between each other’s, alternating. He leans in closer to you, placing his hands on your thighs and squeezing, his presence warm and solid. "You built this company from the ground up. No one is going to forget that, least of all me. And I won’t let anyone take it from you."

You want to believe him, to take comfort in his assurances, but the doubt lingers. Still, you’re exhausted enough to give in, just this once.

He takes your hands in his. "What do you say? The company's in good hands. Take a chance for once. Or at least tonight."

You look up at him, at the certainty in his gaze. The room feels alive with possibilities, some you’ve been avoiding for too long.

"Fine," you say, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "I’ll take tonight off. Maybe."

A slow smile spreads across his face, victorious but not gloating. "And tomorrow?"

"We’ll see."

“You want me to hook you up with someone? I can think of at least three guys who have asked about you recently.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You wrinkle your nose in mock disgust. “Eew, gross. Like I’d fuck any of your friends… again.” Chris laughs. “Besides, I’m a big girl. I have apps. I can find someone without the help of my COO.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it, big girl,” he says with a smirk. “But I want all the details… and your location before you go off alone with some strange man.” He stares deeply in your eyes. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know. I love you, too Chris.” He nods before kissing the tip of your nose, the gesture soft and affectionate.

Chris stands, and lets go of your hand slowly, like he's reluctant to leave you to your thoughts. But he does. He walks away and closes the door behind him. You watch through the glass windows as he walks down the hallway and disappears into his office.

Alone in the conference room, the silence hums with all the things you’ve yet to do, both in and out of the office. But for once, it doesn't feel like pressure. It feels like a promise.

****

You're on your couch, phone in hand, heart trying to escape your chest like it's auditioning for a horror movie. Chris' words loop in your mind, a dare you're almost brave enough to accept. You hover over the dating app, paralyzed by uncertainty and too much caffeine.

The app stares back at you, a gateway to questionable decisions and maybe something you desperately need. You inhale, summon your courage, and tap the icon. The screen lights up with possibilities, each profile a Pandora's box of expectations and potential disasters.

With a finger poised for rejection, you start scrolling. An onslaught of names, faces, bios. Each one demands you to make a snap judgment—dating as an Olympic sport, and you're hopelessly out of shape.

"Ski bum looking for love," says one profile. Too outdoorsy.

"Cat dad," says another. Too boring.

"Financial analyst, world traveler." Too much like the guys you spend 80 hours a week with.

You swipe left with gusto, the action becoming both easier and harder as you go. Why does this feel like choosing your own adventure, where every choice leads to self-doubt and maybe a painful death?

You pause on a model-esque twenty-something with a man bun and piercings. Probably too young. Probably trouble. Definitely the kind of guy you’d have gone for ten years ago. Another swipe. Another internal groan.

"What the hell am I doing?" you mutter, the anxiety piling up with each profile you reject. But there's a thrill there too, buried under layers of insecurity and longing.

You think of Chris's knowing smile, his words like a match to kindling. Could you actually follow through this time? Before you lose nerve, you push on, determined to make a reckless choice for once in your too-careful life.

A profile stops you dead. He's magnetic, a live wire through the screen. Long dark hair, playful smile, and eyes that say too much and not enough all at once. The bio is simple, confident, with a wicked twist of humor: "I don’t bite; unless you’re into that sort of thing."

You blink, unsure whether to run or leap.

Hyunjin.

Even his name feels electric.

You hover over the heart icon, your own doing somersaults. The internal dialogue wages war. You're crazy. You're desperate. You're... excited?

Fuck it.

You swipe right, and the screen flashes a match so fast it takes your breath and the last ounce of doubt away.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once, a feeling you've been chasing longer than you realized. A message pops up instantly—he's smooth, charming, and God help you, interested.

You stare at the phone, knowing Chris would call you a chicken if you backed out now. You know he's right, and with renewed thrill, you dive into the conversation with Hyunjin. An hour later, you’re heading out the door to meet him.

You almost back out three times before you make it through the bar's entrance, each step a testament to your resolve and the power of good wine. The place is loud and buzzing, the music a heartbeat matching your own. You spot Hyunjin, magnetic as ever, leaning against the bar with a confident grin that makes you forget how terrified you are.

He's impossibly good-looking, but not in the soulless way you worried about. No, there's life and humor and intrigue in his face. And you, caught in the aftermath of your own recklessness, are undeniably drawn to it.

"You're even more gorgeous in person," he says, his deep voice smooth over the music.

You laugh, nerves bubbling to the surface. "You must be Hyunjin. Or are you his better-looking stunt double?"

He smirks, that playful edge you liked in his messages even sharper now. "Depends. Would that get me a drink?"

"A drink, yes. Anything more and I'll need credentials," you shoot back.

He gestures for you to sit, and you do, slipping onto the barstool beside him. The close proximity sends a jolt of adrenaline down your spine, the kind that comes with skydiving, or possibly jumping into bed with a near-stranger.

You order, hands barely shaking, and the conversation flows as easily as the drinks. You talk about nothing and everything, the banter a seductive dance that leaves you breathless. He's quick-witted, daring, like a live wire waiting for you to touch it.

"So, are you always this straightforward, or am I just special?" you ask, raising an eyebrow as you down another sip of liquid courage.

"You're special," he says, the sincerity in his tone both reassuring and dangerous. His eyes lock onto yours, daring you to make the next move.

"You barely know me," you say, but it comes out more like a challenge than a warning.

He leans in, the faintest scent of cologne—no, pheromones—enveloping you. "Then maybe we should fix that." His lips press lightly against yours before you feel his tongue push gently into your mouth.

Your heart skids into high gear as you kiss him back, and you realize you haven't felt this alive in longer than you want to admit. The tension is thick, electric, impossible to ignore.

You pull away. "This is crazy," you murmur, half to yourself, half to him, knowing full well you're not going to back out now. Not after coming this far. Not after finally allowing yourself the thrill of something so deliciously unpredictable.

"But in a good way?" he asks, brushing his hand against yours before popping a quick kiss on your lips. The contact is fleeting but charged, a spark that ignites everything else inside you.

You grin, reckless and free. "Yeah. In a good way."

It's not a question of if you'll go home with him, but how fast you can get there. The world shrinks down to the space between you and him and a hundred filthy possibilities.

You leave the bar together, his hand confidently on the small of your back as if claiming you already. He leans in to suck on your neck gently as you walk. You’ve never been one for public displays, but right now you can't get enough of it. You don’t want to get enough of it.

You send Chris a quick message, letting him know you’re leaving the bar. He sends back a thumbs up and a reminder to ping him your final location.

The taxi ride blurs by in heated kisses and roaming hands, each second a ticking bomb of anticipation. His lips on your neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, breathing the same charged air and wanting, wanting, wanting.

His place is modern, sleek, not that you care or even notice beyond the front door. You've never moved so fast in your life, the urgency a tidal wave that sweeps you both under. Shoes, bags, jackets—it's a breadcrumb trail of restraint you can no longer pretend to have.

The apartment spins around you as you crash against the wall, his body hard and hot against yours. He's relentless, mouth claiming yours, hands mapping every inch of you as you moan into his kiss. You haven’t been with someone like him in a long time, someone who knows exactly what he's doing and does it so well you forget your own name.

"Are you always like this?" you gasp, fingers clawing at his shirt, needing him closer, needing him now.

He pulls back just enough to smirk, to ruin you with his cocky grin. "Only when it counts."

You laugh, wild and unhinged, yanking him back to you, devouring him in return. You thought you'd feel nervous, out of your depth, but instead you’re just desperate. Starving. Greedy for everything he wants to give.

Hyunjin lifts you like you weigh nothing, like the force of your bodies against each other is the only gravity he's concerned with. You wrap your legs around him, feeling his arousal hard against you, feeling your own ramp up with every second.

The room spins again, and this time it's the bed catching you, bouncing beneath your back as he climbs over you. He’s tearing at your clothes, your shirt sliding off, his touch like fire trailing over bare skin. Then his mouth is on you, sucking a nipple until you’re seeing stars.

You arch into him, cry out, not caring how you sound or who hears. You're soaked, aching, grinding up against his leg to relieve the pressure building between yours. He's merciless, teeth grazing your breast, a wicked look in his eyes that says you're in for it.

"Hyunjin," you gasp, a plea and a promise and all the things you don't have time to articulate.

His hands slide to your jeans, ripping them down, leaving you in nothing but skin and want and pure, throbbing need. His own clothes join yours in a heap on the floor. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, convincing yourself to wait patiently as he rolls a condom on. Then, finally, finally, you feel him against you.

The length of him, hard and smooth and tantalizingly close, pressed between your legs, teasing and torturous. He's on top of you, hair falling into his eyes, a look of pure, raw hunger as he lines himself up.

You're so wet it’s almost embarrassing, except the way he groans when he feels you makes it anything but. He thrusts in, deep and relentless, and you both suck in a breath that’s more like a shout. He doesn't wait, doesn't give you time to think or catch up; he just takes you, fucks you hard and fast and without mercy.

It's intense, blinding, the kind of pleasure that drowns out the world until there's nothing but him and the way he's splitting you open. You claw at his back, pulling him closer, meeting each thrust like it might be the one to finish you.

"Fuck," you moan, half in shock that it's happening, half in ecstasy because it is.

He keeps up the pace, sweat-slick and panting, the rhythm driving you closer to something wild and uncontainable. You're gasping his name, begging him not to stop, and his low, sexy grunts tell you he's not about to.

You’re close, so close, and you can tell he is too, the way he's pounding into you now, faster, deeper, his cock hitting that spot that makes you lose your mind. Your nails dig in, your body tenses, and everything goes white-hot as you come around him, shuddering and screaming and feeling more alive than you ever thought possible.

He’s right there with you, spilling into you with one final, ragged groan, collapsing against you, sweaty and breathless and satisfied as hell.

You lie there, tangled up and utterly spent, listening to the sound of each other's gasping breaths, hearts pounding out a messy duet.

He rolls off, pulling you into the crook of his arm, and you feel... good. Better than you have in forever.

He kisses your forehead, and it’s surprisingly sweet. "Crazy," he murmurs, voice a soft rumble.

"In a good way," you whisper back, smiling as you let sleep take you.

****

You wake up slowly, sensations filtering in one by one like they’re afraid of disturbing you. Hyunjin’s arm is draped across your chest, heavy and warm.

You hear your phone beep. You reach over and see it’s a message from Chris. He’s sent three in the past hour.

CB: Checking in. You good? Message me back please. You know that I will come find you if I don’t hear back, right??? I will kick this dude’s door in… and probably get arrested.

You: Relax. I’m fine, dad. More than fine. 😉

CB: I told you, it’s ‘daddy’, not ‘dad’, baby girl. 😏

You: Lol! Oh, fuck off! And I told you to stop calling me that

CB: Are you home?

You: No. I fell asleep.

CG: You’re sleeping over?!?!?

You: More like a quick nap. I’m heading out in a few minutes. Wasn’t this your idea?

CB: Just making sure you’re safe. You know I worry. Call me when you get home.

You: Okay. Okay. Now leave me alone.

You look over at Hyunjin. He’s so beautiful, even as he sleeps. It would be easy—so easy—to stay. But the part of you that doesn’t linger gets you out of bed and into your jeans before you can think too hard about it.

His apartment is silent, still wrapped in shadows. You dress, clumsily and hurried, pulling on last night’s mismatched fragments of yourself. He doesn’t stir as you gather your things, heart racing with the thrill of getting away with something dangerous.

You pause at the door, look back at the outline of him in the sheets, and feel an unexpected tug. You ignore it and head out into the early morning air, into a world that feels bright and raw and new.

You feel... liberated. Like you've shed not just clothing, but a whole layer of propriety and inhibition. The sidewalk stretches out like a yellow brick road, leading away from the most recklessly satisfying night of your life, at least in recent years. You're high on something no drug could ever replicate—freedom.

A taxi takes you from one kind of chaos to another. You think of Chris. Of how smug he'll be when you tell him it worked. Of how you can’t wait to tell him everything, despite yourself.

The cab is cold and sharp with the smell of pine air freshener. You roll down a window, stick your head into the wind, and let it clear your mind of everything but your next destination. It's ridiculous and entirely unexpected that you'd go straight there now, after last night’s escapades. Maybe it's guilt. Maybe it’s something you don't have a name for yet.

The shelter rises up like an old friend, and you walk in with the sense that you're where you're supposed to be.

Patty, the owner of the dog shelter, spots you immediately, eyebrows raising above kind, incredulous eyes. She stands among a sea of barking and clanging gates, dogs in various states of chaos as they demand her attention.

"Thought you were a ghost," she hollers over the din, "or the last person I’d expect to see this early!"

You shrug, sheepish and not at all apologetic. "Couldn't sleep," you shout back, though the real truth is far more complicated.

Patty meets you halfway, hair tied back and already frizzing free, as if in direct rebellion against any sense of order. "You know the rules," she says, "You come in, you work."

"That's why I'm here," you reply, and there's a calm certainty in the words.

She laughs, full and rich. "Where's that fancy man of yours? The hot one you’re always with."

"Oh, Chris?" You sidestep the mention of him and wonder what she'd say if she knew about your latest conquest. "Thought I'd manage without him today. I do that sometimes. And I’ve told you, Patty, he’s not my man."

“Sure.” Patty gives you a look that’s all mischief and mothering. "You clean up better than you used to," she says, "but you're still a mess."

You chuckle. Her words are spot on, and you wouldn’t have them any other way.

Together, you weave through the shelter, the noise and smell of dogs an oddly soothing balm after the sensory onslaught of a few hours ago. It's a wonder you find peace here amid the bedlam, but you do. It's a different kind of freedom, one you've rarely allowed yourself.

You help with the feeding, the water, the never-ending demands of creatures who need you in a way no one else does. They ground you, these ragtag bundles of fur and slobber, and you realize just how much you've missed it.

You crouch next to a new litter of puppies, their eyes barely open, their bodies warm and wriggling against you. You scoop one up, let it lick your face, let it remind you that there's more to life than late nights and deadlines and board meetings.

Patty watches you, leaning against the wall, her expression softer now. "You look good," she says, and you know she means more than your improvised morning-after wardrobe. “You’re glowing.”

“Thanks.” You nod, unable to voice the sense of relief and rightness you feel. How this little break from yourself seems to be what you needed most.

For the first time in forever, you're not just keeping up. You're actually ahead.

“So Patty,” you say as you cuddle the puppy, “I have an idea…”

****

Olivia opens the door to her new loft, a glass of wine already in hand. "Well, if it isn't the corporate sellout," she teases, pulling you into a one-armed hug.

"Nice to see you too, Liv," you say, taking in the space. Olivia’s new loft is exactly what you’d expect from her—a riot of color and texture, every inch of it screaming her eclectic taste. You’ve always loved how unreservedly herself she is.

She shoves the glass into your hand. "Drink. You look like you need it."

You take a grateful sip, the red warmth spreading through your chest. "I thought this was an intervention," you say. "Aren't I supposed to be sober for those?"

“You think I’d be the one to host your intervention? I drink as much as you do, bitch!”

Olivia flounces onto her couch, tucking her legs beneath her. She's wearing some kind of flowy, bohemian dress that looks like it was made from a dozen different scarves. On anyone else, it would be a disaster. On Olivia, it's perfection.

You sit on the couch next to her, and she proceeds to tell you everything you’ve missed since you last saw each other two weeks ago.

By the second bottle of wine, you’ve relocated to the beanbag across from the couch. It’s a ridiculous contraption that looks like a giant avocado. Olivia lounges on her couch now that she has the extra room.

“Jesus, Liv, where do you even find this stuff?” you ask, gesturing with your wine glass toward the avocado beanbag.

She smirks, taking a long sip from her glass. “I have my sources. You like it?”

“It’s fucking absurd,” you say, laughing. “I love it.”

The warm haze of alcohol makes Olivia’s company even more comforting. She’s been your ride-or-die since high school, through bad breakups and worse hairstyles. Where Chris is your steady rock, Olivia is the unpredictable lightning bolt that keeps life interesting.

“Sooooooo,” she says, drawing out the word in that way she does when she’s about to pry something juicy from you. “How was he?” She’s desperate to get you back on topic, talking about your date with Hyunjin.

You bite your lip, trying to contain the grin that’s been threatening to split your face all night. “Which part do you want to hear first? The fact that he’s even hotter in person, or that he has one of the prettiest dicks I’ve ever seen in my life.

Olivia leans forward, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Tell me everything, bitch! Start from the beginning. Was he a douche? Please tell me he wasn't a douche."

You swirl the wine in your glass, letting the memories of your time with Hyunjin wash over you. “He wasn’t a douche. He was nice, funny, very direct. Just the way I like ‘em.”

“And? You still haven't told me the most important part."

You raise an eyebrow, playing dumb. "Oh? And what part is that?"

She rolls her eyes, exasperated. "The sex, the pretty dick! Was he as good as he looks?"

“Good?” A wicked smile spreads across your face. "Let's just say he more than lived up to the hype. We're talking Olympic-level performance. He was fucking phenomenal. I couldn’t tell you the last time I came that hard.” You took another sip of your wine.

“Really?”

“Really. Granted it’s been almost a year since I last had sex and longer since I’ve had a real, honest to god, orgasm from sex, so it may just be the excitement of finally getting a good lay.”

“Like I’ve always said, a good dicking down will get you right every time! Am I right?” She reaches over to clink her glass against yours.

“You’re so right.”

“So one of the best you’ve ever had?”

You think for a second. “Definitely top 5.”

“Better than Christopher?” she says with a sly smirk.

Here she goes again, you think to yourself. Liv was one of the biggest cheerleaders for you and Chris becoming a thing. And she has tried, on multiple occasions, to arrange for you and him to rekindle what you had, despite the protests from both of you.

“You know with Chris it was different.”

“Different because of all the emotions?”

Yes. “No. Different because we were friends and I trusted him in a way I don’t trust most men. So there was none of the bullshit to navigate like there usually is with guys.” She’s skeptical, like she always is, but she doesn’t push. “Anyway, this was all Chris’ idea.”

“It was?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. He said I needed a break and to get fucked. He’s always right.”

“Mmmm. Are you going to see Hyunjin again?”

You pause, thinking about Hyunjin's sleeping form and how you'd slipped away. "Maybe. Maybe not. We were both upfront about not wanting anything serious."

“And you’re serious about taking a leave of absence from work?”

“Yeah girl. I am mentally and emotionally exhausted. It causing me to struggle. I’d rather take a self-imposed break than have a breakdown and be forcibly removed by the board.”

“That’s never a good look,” she agrees. “And can the company operate without you?”

“Yes. I mean, I’m not doing much these days except meetings after meetings after meetings and placing my signature on things. I just haven’t had the mental capacity for much else. That’s why this recharge is necessary.”

Olivia takes a long drink, finishing the last of her wine. She sets the glass down on the coffee table, a makeshift creation of reclaimed wood and sea glass, and stretches out like a cat. There's a moment of silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. You know her well enough to recognize when she's gearing up to say something important.

"I'm really glad you're taking this break," she says at last, her tone more serious now. "You know I love giving you shit, but... I'm worried about you. Chris and I have both been worried."

You shift in the avocado beanbag, its plush innards making you feel like you're sinking deeper into a hole. You finish your wine in a long, last gulp and set the glass on the floor. The room tilts ever so slightly as you lean back into the beanbag. "I think I liked it better when the two of you didn’t talk,” you mutter to yourself. “There’s no need to worry. I'm fine, Liv. Just tired."

"You're more than just tired," she says, swinging her legs around to sit cross-legged. "Babe, we’re not blind. You've been running on empty for years now. This isn’t just about being exhausted from work. We see how drained you are. How checked out you’ve been.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“Hear me out,” she says. “Remember when we used to have fun? Like real, stupid fun? Late-night drives to the lake, spontaneous road trips, even just fucking around in your mom’s basement playing video games?”

“Liv…”

“I’m serious. When was the last time you did anything like that? When was the last time you did something just to laugh and be happy? It’s more than just being tired. You’ve lost something. You’ve been different”

"Different how?" you ask, though a part of you already knows what she's going to say.

"Sadder," she says softly. "More distant. Less... alive."

The words hit you harder than you expect. Olivia is never one to sugarcoat things, but hearing her say this cuts deep.

"I'm just tired, Liv," you say, trying to explain away her concerns. "Once I get some rest—"

"It’s more than that," she interrupts. "You’ve lost your spark. The way you used to light up when talking about new ideas, new projects, shit, new music or TV—it's all gone. You’re going through the motions at work and in your life and it's killing me to watch."

You sink deeper into the avocado beanbag, the ridiculous thing swallowing you up like quicksand. Is this how they all see you? Just a hollow, robotic version of your former self? The thought gnaws at you, more painful than you want to admit.

"Liv, I—" you start, but the words tangle in your throat. What can you say that won't sound like a lame excuse? That won't make you seem even more pathetic?

She softens, her usual brashness tempered by genuine concern. "Babe, we just want you to be happy.” She joins you on the beanbag, sitting on your lap and throwing her arms around your neck. “You deserve that, you know?" You wrap your arms around her torso squeezing her tight.

The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken fears and hopes. You know she's right, that they're all right. But knowing and accepting are two different beasts.

****

The boardroom buzzes like an over-caffeinated hive, each member buzzing with anticipation and dread. They glance at each other, trading nervous theories about why you’ve called them in on zero notice. You watch the clock and your pulse with matching impatience, fingers drumming the table as you wait for everyone to take their places.

Anxious faces, expectant eyes, tension you could cut with a dull knife. They fear the worst: a merger gone wrong, the company in flames, the CEO resigning. They aren’t wrong on that last count—not really—but you’ll never admit it.

"As you all know," you begin, the calm before the corporate storm, "I’ve been running myself ragged. I need time to recharge. Time to focus on other priorities."

Eyes widen, darting from you to each other. Whispers spread like a virus. They didn’t see this coming, and that’s almost reason enough to do it.

"I’m taking a six-month sabbatical."

Silence, then an explosion of chaos. Questions over questions, demands for clarification, for reassurance, for you to change your damn mind. The one time they need you to be unpredictable, and they can’t handle it.

You stand your ground, unwavering. "Chris will handle day-to-day operations. I trust him, and so should all of you."

Chris nods, arms folded, the pillar of strength they can’t ignore. "I’ve got it covered," he says, and his words are an anchor in their sea of panic. "The company will survive without her for a few months."

"Not without heavy casualties," Felix mutters, flipping through your calendar on his ipad like it's a sacred text. "Half these meetings will have to be rescheduled. The other half will have to be burned in effigy."

The room doesn’t quite calm down, but the volume drops. They trust Chris—hell, maybe more than they trust you—and his confidence bleeds into theirs.

"We should discuss interim strategy," suggests a suit who’s always angling for more power. "Marketing. Finance. How will—"

Chris holds up a hand, stopping the flow before it turns into a flood. "We’ve already got a plan. I will provide full details after lunch."

Everyone stares at you like you've grown another head, but none of them dare to object. They nod, murmuring assent, no one willing to be the first to say they're terrified.

You can't help but smile, an unexpected lightness in your chest. They're in good hands—your best. You wouldn't leave them in any others.

Felix drops his ipad, and the sound is almost as dramatic as his expression. "You’re serious," he says, more accusation than question.

"As a heart attack," you reply, and there's a wicked delight in Felix's theatrical distress.

“I can’t believe you didn’t prepare me for this!” He sits heavily in the chair, looking overworked and underpaid and maybe a little bit proud. "I guess I’ll survive," he says, resigned to his fate as caretaker of the company—and of you—from afar.

"Don’t worry. You can now harass Chris with the same love and care you do me," you declare, turning to leave before anyone can rope you back in.

“But I can’t stand him,” Felix says with a pout. That’s a lie. You know that Felix has had a huge crush on Chris for years now. And Chris being a huge fucking flirt doesn’t help.

“You love me,” Chris replies teasingly as he reaches over to tickle Felix’s torso. Felix grunts, sounding disgusted as he shoves Chris away from him. Chris just laughs.

Chris catches your eye, and you share a look, a moment, a promise that this will be good for you both. His support is like always: unwavering and damn near insufferable in its accuracy.

As you walk out, the chaos erupts anew as board members attack Chris with questions and concerns, but it's a distant echo, already fading from your mind. The world is wide open, and for the first time in forever, you’re free to explore it.

****

The hallways are quieter than usual, a side effect of your bombshell dropping the staff into hushed speculation. You make your way through the building, each step a strange mixture of light and heavy. Six months away. Half a year of not being yourself—or maybe finally being who you really are.

Your phone pings as you enter your office.

Hyunjin: You snuck out the other day. I was really looking forward to waking up next to you.

You: I didn’t really sneak out. You just didn’t wake up. Sorry, I had some work stuff to take care of.

Hyunjin: Hmmmm. I love workaholics. So many kinks to work out.

You smile at his words. Even through the phone his flirting is hot.

Hyunjin: I had fun. I’d love to see you again. Would that be okay, beautiful?

You: I guess that could be arranged.

Hyunjin: Perfect. Give me a call whenever.

You put your phone away and start to gather your things, the essentials for an indefinite leave, the parts of you you're willing to take on this adventure. The decision hangs around you like a new coat, awkward but full of promise. There’s a fear that clutches at your gut, the fear of letting go and everything that comes with it.

Then excitement comes rushing in, and suddenly you can't remember why you didn't do this sooner.

Chris finds you as you’re about to leave. Of course he does. He’s a mind-reader, and you're convinced he’s part bloodhound too.

"Still in one piece?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe with casual authority.

"Mostly," you reply, but the word sounds less uncertain than you expect.

He gives you a long look, one that sees past the bravado to the eagerness beneath. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he says, which means he expects you to do everything he would.

You laugh, more genuine than it’s been in weeks. "Planning on it."

His expression softens, all teasing aside. "You’ll be fine," he says, and it’s the final nudge you need.

"You too," you answer, and you both know it’s not just the company you're talking about. “Dinner on Thursday?”

“Sure. Your place this time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Bye.”

He watches as you walk away, and you feel the pull to turn back, to stay in the safety of the life you know. But you don't. You can't. This is the new you—reckless and hopeful and stepping into the unknown with both eyes wide open.

21 notes · View notes

feral-ffa · 2 years ago

Text

Updated list of my fave offsite stories. Will continue to update. A couple of these are pretty heavy slob FYI.

test

#textpost hub

66 notes · View notes

glennriley49 · 9 months ago

Text

The Watchers Complex

A short ghost/cosmic horror story by Glennis

Jake fumbled with his keys, struggling to balance the last box of his belongings while unlocking the door to his new apartment. The smart lock beeped cheerfully, a stark contrast to his weary mood. As he stepped inside, the lights automatically flickered to life, illuminating the sleek, modern space he now called home.

"Welcome home, Jake," the apartment's AI assistant chimed. "Would you like me to adjust the temperature?"

"No thanks," Jake muttered, setting down the box with a heavy thud. He gazed around the empty living room, devoid of the warmth and memories that had filled his old place. But those memories were tainted now, poisoned by the bitter end of his relationship with Sarah.

Jake shook his head, trying to dispel thoughts of his ex. This move was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to leave the pain behind and begin anew. The Nexus Apartments promised cutting-edge technology and unparalleled security – the perfect place to lose himself in work and forget about his heartache.

As he began unpacking, Jake's phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from the building's management:

"Welcome to Nexus Apartments! As our resident security consultant, you now have access to the complex's camera feeds. Please review the system at your earliest convenience."

Jake sighed, remembering the agreement he'd made with the management. In exchange for a significant discount on rent, he'd agreed to help set up and monitor the building's state-of-the-art security system. It had seemed like a good idea at the time – a distraction from his personal life and a chance to put his skills to use.

After a few hours of halfhearted unpacking, Jake decided to take a break and check out the security system. He booted up his laptop and logged into the building's network, bringing up a grid of camera feeds from around the complex.

The system was impressive, with high-definition cameras covering every angle of the building's exterior and common areas. Jake flicked through the feeds, familiarizing himself with the layout. As he watched, he noticed a flicker of movement in one of the hallway cameras.

Leaning closer, Jake squinted at the screen. For a moment, he thought he saw a dark shape dart across the frame, but when he rewound the footage, there was nothing there. He rubbed his eyes, chalking it up to fatigue from the move.

"Just tired," he muttered to himself. "Time to call it a night."

As Jake settled into bed, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had crept over him. The apartment felt too quiet, too sterile. He tossed and turned, eventually drifting into a fitful sleep.

In the early hours of the morning, Jake was jolted awake by a piercing scream. He sat bolt upright, heart racing, before realizing it had come from outside. Rushing to the window, he peered down at the street below, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Shaken, Jake decided to check the security feeds. He pulled up the exterior cameras, rewinding to a few minutes earlier. At first, he saw nothing unusual, but then a flash of movement caught his eye. He paused the footage, zooming in on a shadowy figure near the building's entrance.

The image was grainy and distorted, but Jake could make out what looked like a woman in a long, flowing dress. Her face was obscured, but there was something off about her posture – almost as if she were floating rather than standing.

As Jake watched, the figure seemed to flicker and disappear, like a faulty hologram. He blinked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. When he looked back at the screen, the figure was gone.

"What the hell?" Jake muttered, rewinding the footage again. But no matter how many times he replayed it, he couldn't find any trace of the mysterious woman.

Unnerved, Jake decided to head down to the lobby to investigate. The hallway outside his apartment was eerily quiet, the smart lighting dimmed to a soft glow. As he approached the elevator, Jake felt a sudden chill, as if a cold breeze had swept through the corridor.

The elevator arrived with a cheerful ding, but as Jake stepped inside, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone – or something – was watching him. He turned, half-expecting to see a figure lurking in the shadows, but the hallway remained empty.

In the lobby, Jake found no sign of disturbance. The night security guard, a middle-aged man named Frank, looked up from his crossword puzzle with mild interest.

"Everything alright, Mr. Chen?" Frank asked, setting aside his pen.

Jake hesitated, unsure how to explain what he'd seen. "Did you hear anything unusual a little while ago? Maybe a scream?"

Frank furrowed his brow, shaking his head. "Can't say that I did. It's been quiet as a tomb down here all night."

Jake suppressed a shiver at Frank's choice of words. "And you haven't seen anyone coming or going in the last hour or so?"

"Nope," Frank replied, glancing at the lobby's security monitors. "Just you. Why do you ask?"

Jake debated whether to mention the strange figure he'd seen on the cameras, but decided against it. He didn't want to sound crazy on his first night in the building.

"No reason," he said, forcing a smile. "Just thought I heard something. Must have been dreaming."

As Jake headed back to his apartment, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. The building seemed different somehow – colder, more oppressive. As he passed by the other apartments, he could have sworn he heard muffled whispers and the sound of shuffling feet behind closed doors.

Back in his own unit, Jake pulled up the security feeds again, determined to find some explanation for what he'd seen. He spent hours poring over the footage, but found nothing concrete – just fleeting shadows and inexplicable glitches in the video.

As dawn broke, Jake finally gave up and collapsed into bed, his mind racing with possibilities. He drifted into an uneasy sleep, plagued by dreams of dark figures and echoing screams.

The next few days passed in a blur of unpacking and settling in. Jake threw himself into his work, both his day job as a software engineer and his duties as the building's security consultant. He told himself that the incident on his first night had been nothing more than a combination of stress and an overactive imagination.

But as the week wore on, Jake couldn't ignore the growing sense of unease that permeated the building. Other tenants began to complain of strange noises in the night – scratching sounds in the walls, whispers in empty rooms, and the sensation of being watched.

Jake did his best to reassure them, chalking it up to the quirks of a new building and overly sensitive smart home systems. But privately, he was becoming more and more concerned. The security cameras continued to pick up anomalies – fleeting shadows, unexplained temperature drops, and occasional glitches that seemed to obscure entire sections of the building.

One evening, as Jake was reviewing the day's footage, he noticed something that made his blood run cold. In one of the hallway cameras, he saw a familiar figure – the woman in the flowing dress he'd glimpsed on his first night. This time, the image was clearer, and Jake could make out more details.

The woman's dress was old-fashioned, reminiscent of Victorian-era clothing. Her long, dark hair obscured most of her face, but what Jake could see looked pale and gaunt. As he watched, the woman turned slowly, seeming to look directly into the camera. Jake felt a chill run down his spine as he realized her eyes were completely black, like empty sockets.

Just as he was about to call building security, Jake's phone rang, startling him. It was Lisa, one of his neighbors from down the hall.

"Jake?" Lisa's voice was trembling. "I'm sorry to bother you, but something really weird is happening in my apartment. The lights keep flickering, and I swear I can hear someone whispering, but there's no one here. Can you come check it out?"

Jake hesitated, glancing back at the frozen image of the ghostly woman on his screen. "Sure, Lisa. I'll be right there."

He grabbed a flashlight and hurried down the hall to Lisa's apartment. As he approached, he noticed the temperature seemed to drop dramatically. His breath fogged in the air as he knocked on Lisa's door.

The door creaked open, revealing Lisa's pale, frightened face. "Thank god you're here," she said, ushering him inside. "It's gotten worse in the last few minutes."

Jake stepped into the apartment, immediately noticing the oppressive atmosphere. The air felt thick and heavy, and there was a faint smell of decay that made his stomach turn.

"Have you called building maintenance?" Jake asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Lisa nodded. "They said they'd send someone up, but that was an hour ago. No one's come."

As if on cue, the lights in the apartment began to flicker wildly. Jake heard a low, guttural moan that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. Lisa let out a terrified whimper, clutching Jake's arm.

"We need to get out of here," Jake said, pulling Lisa towards the door. But as they reached for the handle, it began to rattle violently, as if someone – or something – was trying to force its way in.

Jake and Lisa backed away, their hearts racing. The temperature in the room plummeted, their breath coming out in visible puffs. The moaning grew louder, and Jake could have sworn he heard his name being called in a raspy, inhuman voice.

Suddenly, the lights went out completely, plunging them into darkness. Jake fumbled for his flashlight, his hands shaking as he switched it on. The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating a horrifying sight.

Standing in the corner of the room was the woman from the security footage. Up close, Jake could see that her skin was a sickly gray color, her flesh seeming to rot and slough off in places. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream, revealing rows of sharp, blackened teeth.

Lisa let out a blood-curdling shriek, and Jake felt his own throat constrict with terror. He grabbed Lisa's hand and bolted for the door, which mercifully opened this time. They ran down the hallway, the sound of shuffling footsteps echoing behind them.

As they reached the elevator, Jake risked a glance back. The hallway was empty, but he could have sworn he saw a dark shape lingering at the edge of his vision. The elevator arrived with a ding that seemed obscenely cheerful given the circumstances.

Once inside, Jake jabbed the button for the lobby repeatedly, willing the doors to close faster. As the elevator began its descent, he turned to Lisa, who was shaking uncontrollably.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

Jake shook his head, struggling to find words. "I don't know. But we need to get out of this building. Now."

When they reached the lobby, they found it deserted. The security desk was empty, Frank nowhere to be seen. Jake led Lisa outside, where they huddled on a bench, trying to catch their breath and make sense of what had happened.

"We should call the police," Lisa said, her voice still trembling.

Jake nodded, pulling out his phone. But as he dialed 911, he realized with growing horror that there was no signal. He looked up at Lisa, who was checking her own phone with increasing panic.

"No service," she said, her face pale in the glow of the streetlights.

Jake stood up, looking around desperately for help. The street was eerily empty, no cars or pedestrians in sight. Even the neighboring buildings seemed dark and lifeless.

"This is impossible," Jake muttered. "We're in the middle of the city. There should be people everywhere."

As they debated what to do next, a blood-curdling scream echoed from inside the Nexus Apartments. Jake and Lisa exchanged horrified glances before Jake made a decision.

"We need to go back in," he said grimly. "There are other people in there. We can't just leave them."

Lisa shook her head vehemently. "Are you crazy? We barely made it out alive!"

"I know," Jake said, understanding her fear all too well. "But I'm the building's security consultant. I have a responsibility to the other tenants. You don't have to come with me, but I have to try to help."

Lisa hesitated for a moment before squaring her shoulders. "No, you're right. We can't abandon everyone else. But we need a plan."

Jake nodded, thinking quickly. "Okay, here's what we'll do. We'll go to the security office first. There are weapons there – tasers, at least. And we can use the building-wide intercom to warn everyone."

With a deep breath, Jake and Lisa re-entered the Nexus Apartments. The lobby was still deserted, the only sound the quiet hum of the smart building's systems. They made their way to the security office, Jake using his access code to get inside.

The office was in disarray, papers scattered across the floor and chairs overturned. There was no sign of Frank or any other security personnel. Jake quickly located the weapons locker, distributing tasers and flashlights to Lisa and himself.

As Jake booted up the main security terminal, Lisa kept watch at the door. The system came online, displaying the grid of camera feeds Jake had become all too familiar with. But now, many of the feeds were dark or filled with static.

"This is bad," Jake muttered, typing furiously as he tried to restore the system. "It's like something is interfering with the cameras."

Suddenly, one of the feeds flickered to life, showing a corridor on the fifth floor. Jake and Lisa leaned in, watching in horror as a group of shadowy figures moved across the screen. They seemed to be dragging something – or someone.

"Oh god," Lisa whispered. "What are those things?"

Before Jake could respond, the building's intercom system crackled to life. A garbled voice filled the air, the words barely discernible through the static:

"Jake Chen... We've been waiting for you... Join us..."

Jake felt a chill run down his spine as he recognized the voice – it was Sarah, his ex-girlfriend. But that was impossible. Sarah was hundreds of miles away, and the voice had an otherworldly quality that made his skin crawl.

"This can't be happening," Jake said, his voice shaking. "It has to be some kind of trick."

Lisa grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with fear. "Jake, we need to get out of here. Now."

But as they turned to leave, they found their path blocked. Standing in the doorway was Frank, the night security guard. His skin was pale and waxy, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

"You shouldn't have come back, Mr. Chen," Frank said, his voice flat and emotionless. "Now you'll have to join us. All of you."

Jake raised his taser, pointing it at Frank. "Stay back! What's going on here, Frank? What happened to you?"

Frank took a shambling step forward, a grotesque smile spreading across his face. "I've been enlightened, Mr. Chen. The Watchers have shown me the truth. They can show you too, if you'll just let them in."

As Frank lunged forward, Jake fired the taser. The electrodes hit Frank square in the chest, but he didn't even flinch. Instead, his body seemed to flicker and distort, like a glitching hologram.

"Run!" Jake yelled, grabbing Lisa's hand and pushing past Frank. They sprinted down the hallway, the sound of shuffling footsteps close behind.

As they ran, Jake's mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. The Watchers? Who or what were they? And how was Sarah involved in all of this?

They reached the stairwell, opting for stairs over the potentially trapped elevator. As they climbed, Jake could hear the sounds of chaos echoing through the building – screams, crashes, and that same unearthly moaning they'd heard in Lisa's apartment.

"We need to warn the others," Jake panted as they reached the third floor landing. "There has to be a way to get everyone out."

Lisa nodded, struggling to catch her breath. "Maybe we can trigger the fire alarm? That would at least alert the authorities."

It was a good idea, but as Jake reached for the nearest fire alarm, he hesitated. Something told him that conventional means of escape might not work in this situation. Whatever was happening in the Nexus Apartments seemed to defy the laws of reality.

Before Jake could voice his concerns, a piercing shriek filled the air. Looking up, they saw a figure leaning over the railing several floors above. It was the woman in the Victorian dress, her long hair hanging down like a curtain of shadows.

"Oh god," Lisa whimpered, pressing herself against the wall.

The ghostly woman began to descend, not by walking down the stairs, but by crawling along the walls like some monstrous insect. Her head twisted at an impossible angle, black eyes fixed on Jake and Lisa.

"Keep going!" Jake yelled, pushing Lisa ahead of him. They burst through the door onto the third floor, running down the hallway in a blind panic.

As they ran, doors began to open along the corridor. Pale, twisted faces peered out – their neighbors, but changed into something inhuman and horrifying. Hands reached out to grab at them, voices calling their names in a grotesque chorus.

Jake and Lisa dodged the grasping hands, their hearts pounding as they searched for an escape route. At the end of the hallway, Jake spotted a maintenance door that led to the building's exterior fire escape.

"There!" he shouted, pointing. They sprinted towards the door, the sounds of shuffling feet and inhuman moans growing louder behind them.

Jake fumbled with his key card, praying that his security access would work. For a heart-stopping moment, the lock blinked red, but then it flashed green with a reassuring beep. They burst through the door onto the metal landing of the fire escape, slamming it shut behind them.

The cool night air was a shock after the oppressive atmosphere inside, but they had no time to catch their breath. Jake could hear pounding on the other side of the door, the metal beginning to buckle under some immense force.

"Down!" Jake yelled, urging Lisa onto the stairs. They clattered down the metal steps, the entire structure shaking ominously beneath their feet.

As they reached the second-floor landing, Jake heard a terrible screeching sound from above. He looked up to see the maintenance door torn from its hinges, a mass of writhing shadows pouring out onto the fire escape.

"Keep going!" Jake shouted to Lisa, who was frozen in terror at the sight. He practically pushed her down the last flight of stairs, the two of them jumping the last few feet to the alley below.

They ran out onto the street, expecting to find help or at least other people fleeing the building. Instead, they were met with an impossible sight. The busy city street they had walked down just hours ago was gone, replaced by a foggy, desolate landscape. The buildings around them looked ancient and decrepit, as if centuries had passed in the blink of an eye.

"What... what happened?" Lisa whispered, her voice trembling. "Where are we?"

Jake shook his head, struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. "I don't know. It's like we've stepped into another world."

A cold wind whipped around them, carrying whispers that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Jake strained to make out the words, his blood running cold as he began to understand:

"The Watchers... they see all... they know all... join us, Jake... join us..."

Lisa clutched Jake's arm, her nails digging into his skin. "Jake, what are they talking about? What do they want with you?"

Before Jake could answer, a figure emerged from the fog. His heart nearly stopped as he recognized Sarah, his ex-girlfriend. But this wasn't the Sarah he remembered. Her skin was pale and translucent, her eyes black voids that seemed to swallow all light.

"Hello, Jake," Sarah said, her voice echoing strangely. "We've been waiting for you."

Jake instinctively pushed Lisa behind him, raising the taser with a shaking hand. "Stay back! You're not Sarah. What are you?"

Sarah – or the thing wearing Sarah's face – smiled, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. "Oh, but I am Sarah, Jake. Or at least, what's left of her. The Watchers showed me the truth, just as they wanted to show you."

"What truth?" Jake demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. "What are the Watchers?"

Sarah's form seemed to flicker, like a faulty hologram. "They are the true owners of this world, Jake. They've been watching us, studying us, for millennia. And now, they're ready to reclaim what's theirs."

As she spoke, more figures emerged from the fog. Jake recognized his neighbors, the other tenants of the Nexus Apartments. But like Sarah, they were changed – pale, hollow-eyed versions of themselves.

"You were the final piece," Sarah continued, taking a step closer. "Your work on the security system, your connection to the building's network – it created the perfect conduit for the Watchers to breach our world."

Jake felt a wave of guilt and horror wash over him. Had he inadvertently caused all of this? "No," he said, shaking his head. "This can't be real. It has to be some kind of mass hallucination or-"

His words were cut off as Sarah lunged forward with inhuman speed. Jake fired the taser, but the electrodes passed right through her flickering form. She grabbed his arm, her touch burning cold.

"Let him go!" Lisa shouted, swinging her flashlight at Sarah's head. But another figure – Jake recognized him as Mr. Patel from the fourth floor – grabbed Lisa from behind.

Jake struggled against Sarah's grip, his mind racing. If what she said was true, if he had somehow been the key to all of this, then maybe he could find a way to undo it.

"The network," he gasped, an idea forming. "If I can shut down the building's systems, maybe it'll sever the connection."

Sarah's grip tightened, her nails digging into his skin. "It's too late for that, Jake. The Watchers are already here. Soon, this entire city will be theirs. And you'll be part of it."

As she spoke, the fog began to thicken, swirling around them in unnatural patterns. Jake could see glimpses of impossible things in the mist – twisted landscapes, writhing tentacles, and eyes. Hundreds of inhuman eyes, all fixed on him.

"No!" Jake shouted, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. He twisted in Sarah's grip, managing to break free. In the same motion, he grabbed Lisa's arm, pulling her away from Mr. Patel's grasp.

"Run!" he yelled, and they took off down the strange, fog-shrouded street. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, as shadows pursued them through the mist.

Jake's mind raced as they ran, trying to formulate a plan. If the Watchers had used the building's network as a conduit, then maybe the key to stopping them lay in the central server room. It was a long shot, but it was the only idea he had.

"We need to get back inside," Jake panted as they ran. "To the server room in the basement."

Lisa looked at him like he was crazy. "Back inside? Are you insane?"

"Trust me," Jake said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "It's our only chance."

They circled back towards the Nexus Apartments, the building now a twisted, impossible version of itself. The sleek, modern facade was replaced by ancient stone, covered in strange, pulsing growths. The entrance yawned open like a gaping maw, darkness spilling out onto the street.

Jake and Lisa paused at the threshold, both acutely aware that stepping inside might mean never coming out again. They exchanged a look, no words necessary to convey their fear and determination.

Taking a deep breath, they plunged into the darkness.

The interior of the building was a nightmarish fusion of modern architecture and eldritch horror. The smart lighting system flickered erratically, casting strange shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. The walls pulsed and writhed as if alive, and Jake could have sworn he saw faces pressing out from within them, mouths open in silent screams.

They made their way to the stairwell, the steps now made of some strange, spongy material that squelched under their feet. As they descended towards the basement, the air grew thicker and harder to breathe, filled with spores or ash or something worse.

"Almost there," Jake wheezed, his lungs burning. Lisa nodded grimly, unable to speak through her coughing.

When they reached the basement level, they found the corridor leading to the server room blocked by a pulsating mass of tentacles and eyes. The eyes swiveled towards them, and the tentacles began to writhe more violently.

"Now what?" Lisa gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jake looked around desperately, his gaze falling on a fire axe mounted on the wall. Without hesitation, he smashed the glass and grabbed the axe, its weight reassuring in his hands.

"Stay behind me," he said to Lisa, before charging towards the blockade.

Jake swung the axe with all his might, the blade sinking into the fleshy mass with a sickening squelch. Black ichor sprayed out, burning where it touched his skin. The eyes blinked rapidly, and a psychic scream tore through Jake's mind, nearly causing him to drop the axe.

But he pressed on, hacking and slashing at the writhing tentacles. Lisa joined in, using her flashlight to bludgeon any appendages that got too close. Slowly, agonizingly, they carved a path through the nightmarish growth.

Finally, they broke through, stumbling into the server room. The space was transformed, the racks of equipment now fused with organic matter, pulsing with an otherworldly energy. At the center stood a pillar of swirling darkness, tendrils of shadow reaching out to connect with every piece of technology in the room.

"That must be it," Jake said, pointing to the pillar. "The conduit the Watchers are using."

As they approached, Jake could feel an immense pressure building in his head. Whispers filled his mind, promising power and knowledge beyond his wildest dreams if he'd only submit to the Watchers' will.

Jake gritted his teeth, fighting against the psychic assault. He raised the axe, ready to strike at the heart of the dark pillar.

But before he could swing, a familiar voice rang out. "Jake, stop!"

He turned to see Sarah standing in the doorway, her form flickering between her human appearance and something far more alien and terrifying.

"You don't understand what you're doing," Sarah said, her voice echoing strangely. "The Watchers can give us everything – immortality, knowledge, power beyond imagination. Why fight it?"

For a moment, Jake hesitated. The offer was tempting, the promise of transcending human limitations almost overwhelming. But then he looked at Lisa, saw the fear and determination in her eyes, and remembered all the people in the building who had been twisted and changed against their will.

"No," Jake said firmly. "Whatever the Watchers are offering, it's not worth the cost. This ends now."

With all his strength, Jake swung the axe into the pillar of darkness. There was a moment of resistance, and then the axe sank in, as if cutting through thick syrup. An unearthly shriek filled the air, and the entire building began to shake.

"Again!" Lisa shouted, and Jake obliged, swinging the axe over and over into the writhing mass of shadows.

With each strike, the pressure in Jake's head increased, and he could feel something vast and alien pushing against his mind, trying to break through. But he focused on the task at hand, channeling all his fear and anger into each blow.

Sarah lunged forward, her form twisting into something inhuman, but Lisa intercepted her, swinging her flashlight with all her might. The two grappled as Jake continued his assault on the pillar.

Finally, with one last, mighty swing, Jake felt something give way. The pillar of darkness exploded outward, a shockwave of energy throwing everyone off their feet. Jake's world went dark as his head struck the ground hard.

When Jake regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the floor of a normal, if somewhat battered, server room. The organic growths were gone, replaced by sparking, damaged equipment. Lisa was stirring beside him, a nasty bruise forming on her forehead but otherwise appearing unharmed.

There was no sign of Sarah or any of the other transformed residents. The oppressive atmosphere that had permeated the building was gone, replaced by an almost painful normalcy.

As Jake helped Lisa to her feet, they could hear sirens in the distance, growing closer. Somehow, impossibly, it seemed they had done it. They had driven back the Watchers and restored the world to its proper state.

But as they made their way out of the building, leaning on each other for support, Jake couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't truly over. The Watchers had been watching humanity for millennia, biding their time. Who was to say they wouldn't try again?

As paramedics and police swarmed the scene, Jake made a silent vow. He would be ready next time. He would watch the Watchers, and he would make sure they never again came so close to claiming our world as their own.

For now, though, he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. The nightmare was over, at least for the moment. And in the light of dawn, the Nexus Apartments stood silent, its secrets once again hidden behind its sleek, modern facade.

***Epilogue***

Six months had passed since the incident at the Nexus Apartments. Jake sat at his desk in his new apartment across town, surrounded by monitors displaying various security feeds and data streams. He had thrown himself into researching the Watchers, using his computer skills to scour the darkest corners of the internet for any sign of their influence.

As he sifted through lines of code, a notification popped up on one of his screens. It was an email from Lisa, who had become a close friend and ally in the aftermath of their shared ordeal.

"Jake,

I hope this finds you well. I've been following up on some of the leads we discussed, and I think I've found something. Remember the strange energy readings we detected near the old factory district? Well, I went to check it out, and... Jake, I saw something. I can't explain it over email. Can we meet?

Stay safe,

Lisa"

Jake frowned, a familiar sense of unease creeping over him. He was about to reply when his lights flickered, just for a moment. It could have been a simple power surge, but Jake knew better than to dismiss such things now.

He glanced at his security camera feed, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. At first, everything seemed normal, but then he noticed something in the corner of the frame. A shadow that didn't quite match the others, moving in a way that defied natural laws.

Jake's heart began to race as he zoomed in on the anomaly. For a split second, he could have sworn he saw a familiar face forming in the darkness – Sarah's face, her eyes black and empty, her mouth stretched in an impossible grin.

Then the image was gone, leaving Jake to wonder if he had imagined it. But deep down, he knew the truth. The Watchers were still out there, still watching, still waiting for their chance to break through once more.

Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. He began to type a reply to Lisa:

"I've seen something too. Meet me at the usual place in an hour. And Lisa... be careful. I don't think we're as alone as we thought."

As he hit send, Jake couldn't shake the feeling that unseen eyes were upon him, watching from just beyond the veil of reality. The battle, it seemed, was far from over. In fact, it might have only just begun.

#cosmic horror #hp lovecraft #ghost stories #scary horror stories #horror stories #short story

7 notes · View notes

sphinxshreya · 1 month ago

Text

What to Look for in the Best Flutter App Development Companies?

Introduction

In today’s competitive digital landscape, businesses need mobile apps that are fast, scalable, and cost-effective. Flutter app development companies play a crucial role in building high-performance, cross-platform applications. With Flutter’s ability to deliver native-like experiences across Android and iOS, businesses can reach a wider audience with a single codebase. But how do you choose the right development partner? This blog explores what to look for in the best Flutter app development companies to ensure your project’s success.

Why Choose Flutter for Mobile App Development?

Flutter, Google’s open-source UI toolkit, has gained popularity for its flexibility, performance, and cost efficiency. Flutter app development companies leverage this powerful framework to create visually stunning and highly responsive applications.

Key Advantages of Flutter:

Single Codebase – Build for iOS and Android with the same code.

Faster Development – Hot reload enables real-time updates.

Cost-Effective – Reduces development costs and time.

High Performance – Uses Dart for optimized speed.

Customizable UI – Extensive widget library for beautiful designs.

Flutter App Development Companies vs. In-House Development

Many businesses face a dilemma: Should they build an in-house team or hire a Flutter app development agency? While in-house development offers control, it often comes with higher costs and longer timelines.

Why Partner with a Flutter App Development Agency?

Access to Expert Developers – Work with experienced Flutter professionals.

Reduced Development Time – Agencies follow agile methodologies for faster delivery.

Cost-Effective – Hiring an agency eliminates recruitment and training expenses.

Scalability – Expand your team as per project requirements.

Ongoing Support – Agencies offer post-launch maintenance and updates.

Partnering with a Flutter app development agency ensures efficiency and top-quality results, making it a preferred choice for businesses worldwide.

What to Look for in the Best Flutter App Development Companies?

When selecting a Flutter app development company, consider the following key factors to make an informed decision:

1. Experience and Portfolio

Check the company’s past projects. A strong portfolio demonstrates their expertise in delivering Flutter applications across various industries. Look for case studies and app demos to evaluate their work quality.

2. Technical Expertise

The best Flutter app development companies have a team proficient in Flutter, Dart, and Firebase. Ensure they have experience integrating APIs, third-party services, and advanced functionalities like AI and IoT.

3. Client Reviews and Testimonials

Read client feedback on platforms like Clutch, GoodFirms, and Google Reviews. Positive testimonials indicate a company’s reliability and ability to meet client expectations.

4. Development Process and Communication

A transparent development process ensures smooth collaboration. Check if the company follows agile methodologies, provides regular updates, and maintains open communication.

5. Cost and Budget Considerations

Compare pricing models to ensure you get value for money. Some Flutter app development companies offer flexible pricing plans, including fixed-cost, hourly, and dedicated team models.

Understanding Flutter App Development Services

Not all Flutter app development companies offer the same services. Here are key services to look for:

1. Custom Flutter App Development

Building tailored solutions that meet specific business needs.

2. Cross-Platform App Development

Developing high-performance apps for both iOS and Android.

3. UI/UX Design

Creating visually appealing and user-friendly interfaces.

4. App Migration and Upgrades

Moving existing apps to Flutter for better performance and maintenance.

5. Ongoing Support and Maintenance

Ensuring app stability with regular updates and bug fixes.

Choosing a company that provides a complete Flutter app development service ensures a seamless development experience.

How to Evaluate a Flutter App Development Company?

Once you’ve shortlisted potential Flutter app development companies, conduct a thorough evaluation using the following criteria:

Technical Interview – Assess their understanding of Flutter’s architecture.

Project Roadmap – Request a clear development plan and timeline.

Trial Project – Test their capabilities with a small project.

Legal Agreements – Ensure confidentiality through NDAs and contracts.

Post-Launch Support – Confirm their maintenance and support offerings.

A company that meets these criteria is likely to deliver a high-quality Flutter app development service aligned with your business goals.

Benefits of Flutter Mobile App Development Services

Investing in professional Flutter mobile app development services offers several advantages:

Faster Time-to-Market – Develop and launch apps quickly.

Consistent UI/UX – Ensure a unified experience across platforms.

Scalability – Easily add new features as your business grows.

Seamless Integration – Connect with third-party tools and APIs.

Robust Security – Implement secure coding practices.

With reliable Flutter mobile app development services, businesses can achieve digital transformation efficiently.

Trends Shaping the Future of Flutter App Development

The future of Flutter looks promising with the following emerging trends:

AI and Machine Learning Integration – Smarter and more responsive applications.

IoT and Wearable Apps – Expanding beyond mobile devices.

Progressive Web Apps (PWAs) – Delivering app-like experiences on the web.

Augmented Reality (AR) and Virtual Reality (VR) – Interactive and immersive applications.

Increased Adoption by Enterprises – More large-scale businesses are shifting to Flutter.

Conclusion

Choosing the right Flutter app development companies can make a significant difference in the success of your mobile app. By considering factors like experience, technical expertise, service offerings, and cost, businesses can find the ideal development partner. Additionally, investing in professional Flutter app development services ensures high-quality, scalable, and cost-effective mobile solutions.

Whether you need a startup MVP or a large-scale enterprise application, partnering with the best Flutter app development companies will help you build a top-performing app that meets user expectations and business objectives. If you’re ready to take your mobile app to the next level, now is the time to explore the potential of Flutter!

0 notes

michellesmusing · 4 months ago

Text

Schiller's day off

*Not Written by me, but by AI. It helps me reading more and learning new words since English isn't my first language... I only use AI for ideas sometimes, or short funny stories...*

Schiller thought he had the situation under control—until Aleksandra, his 2 year old daughter discovered the dog.

Not Schiller's dog, of course. He didn’t do pets. The tiny French bulldog belonged to one of his neighbors, but it had somehow wandered into his apartment when his security detail cracked open the door for a delivery.

“Puppy!” Aleksandra squealed with delight, toddling toward the squirmy ball of fur before Schiller could intervene.

“Aleksandra, no—”

It was too late. The dog, equally thrilled, darted toward her with all the force of a torpedo, knocking her flat on her diapered bottom. Instead of crying, Aleksandra erupted into giggles, wrapping her arms around the dog’s neck in a sloppy hug.

“Puppy likes me!” she declared.

The dog, meanwhile, seemed to have developed an affinity for Schiller’s imported leather loafers, which it began gnawing on with gusto.

Schiller stared at the scene in horror. "This... is unacceptable."

He reached for his phone, intent on summoning the building’s security team to remove the intruder. Before he could make the call, the dog barked and scampered away—directly toward his desk.

“Stop it! Nyet!” Schiller barked, but the dog was already up on the chair, sniffing around the documents he’d been reviewing earlier. With a triumphant yip, it grabbed one in its teeth and bolted across the room.

Schiller lunged after it, narrowly missing the corner of the coffee table. “That is classified information, you flea-ridden menace!”

Behind him, Aleksandra clapped her hands and cheered, clearly thinking this was all part of the fun.

The Bathtub Incident

After finally coaxing the dog out of the apartment (and rescuing the now slightly chewed document), Schiller decided it was time for Aleksandra’s nap. Unfortunately, Aleksandra had other plans.

“No nap!” she shouted, squirming out of his grasp like a particularly slippery spy.

“You need to rest,” Schiller said, trying to sound calm. “Even operatives must sleep.”

But she was already halfway to the bathroom, her tiny hands fumbling with the faucet on the oversized tub. Within seconds, water was gushing out, splashing everywhere.

“Aleksandra, stop!” Schiller snapped, rushing to turn off the water. But not before Aleksandra had tossed in an entire roll of toilet paper, which promptly disintegrated into a soggy mess.

“Bath!” She declared, clapping her hands.

Schiller closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to summon the patience he usually reserved for dealing with inept subordinates. “Fine. Bath it is. But no more destruction.”

What followed was twenty minutes of chaos: bubbles overflowing onto the marble floor, a rubber duck flung with surprising accuracy at Schiller’s forehead, and a toddler who seemed to think splashing him was the height of comedy.

By the time he finally got her out, dried off, and into pajamas, Schiller looked like he’d just escaped a firefight.

The Toy Debacle

With Aleksandra finally in her playpen, Schiller allowed himself a moment of respite. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, letting the amber liquid calm his frayed nerves.

But the peace was short-lived.

“Daaaaddy!” Aleksandra called, her voice sweet and sing-song.

Schiller froze. That tone usually meant trouble. He turned to find her holding one of his prized possessions—a Fabergé egg he’d acquired during a particularly daring operation.

“Aleksandra, put that down,” he said carefully, setting his glass aside and moving toward her with the precision of a bomb disposal expert.

“Pretty egg!” she cooed, shaking it like a rattle.

Schiller’s heart nearly stopped. “Do not—”

Too late. The egg slipped from her tiny hands, tumbling toward the hardwood floor. In a flash, Schiller dove forward, catching it inches from disaster.

He sat on the floor, cradling the priceless artifact like it was an injured comrade. Aleksandra, oblivious to the near-catastrophe, plopped into his lap and kissed his cheek.

“Love you, Daddy,” she said, beaming up at him.

Schiller sighed, his frustration melting away. “You are lucky I love you too, malyshka.”

By the end of the day, Schiller was utterly defeated. As he finally tucked Aleksandra into her crib, her little hand clutching his finger, he whispered, “You are the most dangerous mission I’ve ever taken.”

She yawned and smiled in her sleep, and for the first time in years, Nicholae Schiller let himself laugh.

The Unexpected Visit

Schiller had just managed to settle Aleksandra in front of the TV with her favorite cartoon, giving himself a precious moment to collapse into the armchair and sip what was left of his whiskey. His shirt was damp from the earlier bathtub debacle, and there was a faint smear of mashed peas on his collar, but he didn't care anymore.

The knock at the door was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“Boss?” came a familiar voice from the other side. It was Ivan, one of Schiller’s most loyal (and least perceptive) lieutenants. “It’s urgent.”

Schiller groaned, downed the rest of his drink, and went to open the door, fully prepared to chew Ivan out for interrupting him. But before he could say a word, Aleksandra toddled over, clutching her stuffed rabbit and grinning up at the visitor.

“Hi!” she chirped.

Ivan froze in the doorway, his eyes darting between the toddler and his disheveled boss. “Uh... Boss? Who... is this?”

Schiller ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “This is Aleksandra. My daughter.”

Ivan’s jaw dropped. “Your what?”

Aleksandra, clearly delighted by the newcomer, held up her rabbit. “Bunny!”

“I... I see that,” Ivan stammered, still trying to process the scene. His fearsome boss, the man who struck terror into the hearts of rival operatives, was currently being climbed like a jungle gym by a two-year-old.

“Is this the urgent matter?” Schiller asked, his tone icy.

Ivan blinked, snapping out of his daze. “Oh! No, sir. There’s a... complication with the shipment. The buyers are getting impatient.”

Schiller pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course they are. Handle it.”

“I would, but they’re asking for you specifically,” Ivan said, glancing nervously at Aleksandra, who was now tugging on Schiller’s pant leg. “Uh... should I come back later?”

“No,” Schiller growled, scooping Aleksandra up and handing her the TV remote to distract her. “We’ll deal with this now. What do they want?”

Before Ivan could answer, Aleksandra accidentally pressed a button on the remote, changing the channel to an infomercial featuring blenders.

“Look, Daddy! Spinnies!” she squealed, pointing at the screen.

Ivan coughed into his hand, clearly trying not to laugh. “Boss, maybe I should—”

“Say one word,” Schiller cut in, fixing him with a glare that could freeze water, “and I will personally assign you to babysitting duty.”

Ivan wisely fell silent.

The Conference Call Fiasco

Moments later, Schiller was on a secure video call with the impatient buyers, Ivan standing awkwardly in the corner. Aleksandra sat on Schiller’s lap, happily munching on animal crackers and occasionally trying to press buttons on his keyboard.

“This is unacceptable, Schiller,” one of the buyers snapped. “You promised delivery by tonight!”

“You’ll have your shipment,” Schiller replied coolly, effortlessly shifting into his trademark calm, menacing tone. “There have been minor delays. Nothing more.”

Aleksandra, meanwhile, had grown bored of crackers and decided to grab Schiller’s pen, drawing wobbly circles on his arm.

“Is... is that a child?” another buyer asked, squinting at the screen.

“No,” Schiller said flatly, placing his hand over the webcam before anyone could get a clearer view. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand.”

But Aleksandra had other plans. She reached for the keyboard and hit the spacebar, unmuting the call just as she declared, “Daddy! Look! I draw!”

The buyers stared, visibly stunned. Ivan, on the verge of losing his composure, turned away to hide his laughter.

Schiller closed his eyes, muttering something in Russian under his breath before addressing the buyers again. “The situation is under control. You’ll receive your shipment by morning.”

He ended the call before they could respond, slumping back in his chair as Aleksandra beamed up at him.

“Draw more?” she asked innocently.

Schiller handed her a piece of paper and the pen. “Draw here. Not on me. Or the walls.”

Ivan, still trying to suppress his laughter, finally spoke. “Boss... you’re, uh, surprisingly good at this.”

Schiller shot him a withering glare. “Say that again, and you’ll be negotiating with the buyers instead of me.”

Bedtime Chaos

By the time night rolled around, Schiller was confident that nothing could faze him anymore. Aleksandra had already upended his meticulously ordered world, and somehow, he’d survived. All that remained was to get her to sleep.

“Okay, Aleksandra,” he said, carrying her to her small bed, which had been hastily set up in his guest room that morning. “Time to sleep.”

“No!” Aleksandra declared, clutching her stuffed bunny tightly.

Schiller sighed. “You’re tired. Even you cannot deny this.”

“No!” she repeated, bouncing on the mattress with the energy of someone who hadn’t just spent all day wreaking havoc.

“Fine,” Schiller muttered. “What do you want? A story? Music? Bribery?”

Aleksandra considered this, then pointed at him with a mischievous grin. “Song!”

Schiller blinked. “A... song?”

“Yes, Daddy! Sing!”

Schiller, who had successfully brokered deals with warlords and assassins, was suddenly at a loss. “I don’t sing.”

Aleksandra pouted, her big green eyes filling with crocodile tears. “Pleeease?”

He stared at her, weighing his options. Giving in was a hit to his dignity, but the alternative was a tantrum loud enough to wake the entire building—and possibly alert rival operatives.

“Fine,” he grumbled. After a moment’s thought, he began humming a lullaby he vaguely remembered from his childhood. His deep, steady voice filled the room, and to his surprise, Aleksandra’s eyelids began to droop.

“Night, night,” she mumbled, snuggling into her pillow.

Schiller exhaled in relief, quietly backing out of the room.

A Threat Revealed

Schiller was barely two steps into his study when his phone buzzed. The number on the screen sent a jolt of tension through him. It was Andrei, a rival with a penchant for overstepping boundaries.

“What?” Schiller answered sharply, keeping his voice low.

“You’ve been busy,” Andrei drawled, his tone laced with smugness. “I hear you’ve taken up... parenting.”

Schiller froze, his blood turning to ice. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Schiller. Word travels fast, especially when someone as secretive as you is seen buying animal crackers at the corner store.”

Schiller clenched his jaw, mentally cursing his earlier trip to appease Aleksandra’s snack demands. “If you’ve touched her—”

“Relax,” Andrei interrupted. “I haven’t done anything. Yet. But it’s interesting, don’t you think? How vulnerable you’ve become.”

Schiller’s grip on the phone tightened. “If you so much as breathe near her, I will destroy everything you’ve ever built. Do you understand me?”

Andrei laughed. “Such a doting father. We’ll talk soon.”

The call ended, leaving Schiller staring at the phone, fury and fear battling in his chest.

The Resolve

Steeling himself, Schiller went to check on Aleksandra. She was still fast asleep, clutching her bunny, her peaceful face illuminated by the soft glow of her nightlight.

Schiller stood in the doorway, his jaw set. For years, he’d been untouchable, a ghost who operated in shadows. Aleksandra had changed that—she was his one weakness, and now his enemies knew it.

But as he looked at her, so small and innocent, he felt a fierce protectiveness that eclipsed his fear. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if it meant taking more extreme measures to ensure no one dared threaten her again.

Quietly, he pulled out his phone and dialed Ivan.

“Double the security around the building,” he ordered. “And find out who leaked Aleksandra’s existence to Andrei. I want them found. Now.”

“Yes, boss,” Ivan replied, his voice unusually serious.

As he ended the call, Schiller leaned against the doorway, watching Aleksandra sleep. She had no idea how dangerous the world around her was, and he intended to keep it that way.

“You are more trouble than anyone I’ve ever known,” he whispered. “But you’re worth it, malyshka.”

Aleksandra stirred slightly, murmuring something in her sleep, and Schiller allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.

The world would come for him, as it always did. But now, it would have to go through him to get to her.

#Imagine Nicholae Schiller as a father who has to take care of a toddler #hilarious

1 note · View note

hrsoftbd · 8 months ago

Text

We are Hiring Flutter Developer (Onsite)

Job Context: HRSOFTBD is one of the progressive software company in Bangladesh providing best ERP, AI, OMR Solution, Website, Mobile App, Software, Bulk SMS & Voice Call Marketing Service. We are looking for an enthusiastic Flutter Developer for desktop/mobile application development. . Vacancy: 02 Last Date: 15 September 2024 How to Apply: Only appropriate candidates are requested to apply through email [ [email protected]] and mention the job title as subject. Applicant must enclose his/her photograph with cv. Job Responsibilities: • Design, develop, and maintain high-quality features for our mobile/desktop app (Apple/Android/Windows) using Flutter. • Very Good UI/UX Design Knowledge. • Developing user interface components and implementing them by following well-known Flutter/Dart workflows and practices. • Good understanding of state management, Flutter flavors and app architecture • Good Practice of Clean Code & Documentation. Requirements: • Bachelor’s degree in Computer Science, or related field, or equivalent practical experience. • Good communication skill. • Applications from freshers are welcome, though candidates with experience will be given priority. Job Nature: Full-time. Working days: 5 days Full Time, 01 Day Half and Friday Off. Salary: Negotiable Others Facilities: • Festival Bonus: 2 (yearly/ Eid-ul-adha and Eid-ul-fitr). • Salary Review: Yearly or Semiannual • Yearly Extra Salary of 15 Days. • Lunch Facilities: Partially subsidize. (Minimum 50%) • T/A, Mobile bill. Internet Bill Job Location: P-7, Nurjahan Road, Mohammadpur, Dhaka. #job #hrsoftbd #jobpost #flutterjob #vacancy #jobopportunity #flutterdeveloper

#hrsoftbd #software company #bangladesh #flutter app development

1 note · View note

sathiray · 1 year ago

Text

INFLUX AI Review

Welcome to my INFLUX AI Review Post. Generating leads and securing free buyer traffic stand as a pivotal aspect in any business endeavor, be it online or offline.

The ability to attract potential customers serves as the cornerstone for sustained success. Leads are not merely contacts; they signify potential sales, conversion and ultimately revenue.

Yet, the crux of the matter lies in discovering a solution that blends effectiveness with affordability.

While the market brims with a plethora of tools and platforms for lead generation and traffic acquisition, a substantial number of them come with a hefty price tag. Subscribing to multiple services or investing in premium features can swiftly escalate into substantial monthly expenses.

For numerous businesses, these expenses can easily burgeon into thousands of dollars annually. Enter INFLUX AI, a paradigm shifting solution in the realm of lead generation and traffic acquisition.

With its innovative approach, INFLUX AI not only delivers effectiveness but also ensure cost efficiency.

Art Flair and Pallab Ghosal stand as the driving forces behind InFlux AI, reshaping the landscape of AI-powered digital marketing.

Their collaborative efforts and forward-thinking approach have birthed a groundbreaking platform that leverages a loophole in 2024, granting user’s access to free buyer traffic and the potential for effortless income generation.

Their commitment to innovation and value provision has solidified Art Flair and Pallab Ghosal as trailblazers in the digital marketing sphere. Through InFlux AI, they have empowered countless individuals to reach their financial aspirations.

Their track record speaks volumes, with successful launches like SLICK AI, DART AI, Perpetual Host, RISE AI, VIP NEW YEAR DEAL, Flipped AI, AI MOGUL, MIRACLE AI, STELLAR AI, PREMIER AI, and many more, serving as testament to their expertise and influence.

InFlux AI emerges as a comprehensive marketing automation platform harnessing AI to optimize lead generation, nurture leads, and facilitate conversions into loyal customers. Its array of tools is meticulously crafted to simplify marketing endeavors, enabling businesses to realize their growth objectives seamlessly.

Picture abandoning laborious manual lead scouting and generic outreach strategies. InFlux AI employs AI algorithms to pinpoint and engage with your ideal customer base, thereby conserving invaluable time and resources. The platform hosts an array of features tailored to streamline the entirety of the marketing journey.

From built-in email marketing, complete with an AI-driven email composer for crafting personalized messages, to social media management tools facilitating audience interaction, and even AI-driven content creation to churn out compelling content resonating with your target demographic.

read more : https://rkt-review.com/influx-ai-review/

#Bizopp #Free #howtoINFLUXAIworks #INFLUXAI #INFLUXAIbonus

1 note · View note

this-week-in-rust · 1 year ago

Text

This Week in Rust 530

Hello and welcome to another issue of This Week in Rust! Rust is a programming language empowering everyone to build reliable and efficient software. This is a weekly summary of its progress and community. Want something mentioned? Tag us at @ThisWeekInRust on Twitter or @ThisWeekinRust on mastodon.social, or send us a pull request. Want to get involved? We love contributions.

This Week in Rust is openly developed on GitHub and archives can be viewed at this-week-in-rust.org. If you find any errors in this week's issue, please submit a PR.

Updates from Rust Community

Project/Tooling Updates

esp-rs quarterly planning: Q1 2024

Meilisearch 1.6 - AI search & 2x faster indexing

capnproto-rust: 0.19 - ergonomic setters and faster reflection

hyper - 2023 in review

Observations/Thoughts

A universal lowering strategy for control effects in Rust

Passing nothing is surprisingly difficult

The memory remains: Permanent memory with systemd and a Rust allocator

Higlights of 2023 for cargo-semver-checks

The bane of my existence: Supporting both async and sync code in Rust

A Guide to Rust ORMs in 2024

Semantic search powered by WASM and WebGPU

Embassy on ESP: UART Echo

Rust Walkthroughs

Adventures in Binary Serialisation

Creating 2 'Simple' Allocators

Rust macros and Lambda boilerplate

Let's make an information display in rust Part 2: The Frontend

Miscellaneous

Clap - subcommands for command line applications in Rust

SurrealDB in-memory with SQL demo in Rust

Multi-counter with embedded SurrealDB database

Xilem 2024 plans

Rustaceans, say goodbye to lifetime errors: announcing nolife 0.3

Auto-generating API service using Rust, to TypeScript & Dart

From the rust community on Reddit: Rust in Aviation

[audio] Apollo - Rust in Production Podcast

[audio] Prossimo with Josh Aas

Crate of the Week

This week's crate is fish, a friendly interactive shell that used to be written in C++, but was recently rewritten in Rust (though admittedly they'll have to do some work until it hits your distro's repos).

Despite a lamentable lack of suggestions, llogiq is reasonably satisfied with his choice.

Please submit your suggestions and votes for next week!

Call for Participation; projects and speakers

CFP - Projects

Always wanted to contribute to open-source projects but did not know where to start? Every week we highlight some tasks from the Rust community for you to pick and get started!

Some of these tasks may also have mentors available, visit the task page for more information.

ZeroCopy - Use cargo-semver-checks to make sure derive feature doesn't change API surface 2

Ockam - remove_address_record function is called two times per Address during Processor shutdown

Ockam - Command - refactor to use typed interfaces to implement commands for kafka services

Ockam - Library - Validate CBOR structs according to the cddl schema for nodes/models/services

Hyperswitch - [FEATURE]: Make cache configuration configurable at runtime

Hyperswitch - [FEATURE]: Implement Code cov for local system using makefile

Hyperswitch - [FEATURE]: Setup code coverage for local tests & CI

Hyperswitch - [FEATURE]: Add domain type for client secret

Hyperswitch - [FEATURE]: Have get_required_value to use ValidationError in OptionExt

Fluvio - connector: fluvio-http-source, add an option to read data from a websocket

Fluvio - MQTT Connector: Prefix auto generated Client ID to prevent connection drops

If you are a Rust project owner and are looking for contributors, please submit tasks here.

Updates from the Rust Project

418 pull requests were merged in the last week

GNU/Hurd: unconditionally use inline stack probes

rustc_codegen_ssa: Enforce rustc::potential_query_instability lint

~const trait and projection bounds do not imply their non-const counterparts

add assume into NonZeroIntX::get

add explicit none() value variant in check-cfg

add more information to visit_projection_elem

allow ~const on associated type bounds again

avoid silencing relevant follow-up errors

check rust lints when an unknown lint is detected

coverage: add enums to accommodate other kinds of coverage mappings

coverage: simplify building the coverage graph with CoverageSuccessors

delegation implementation: step 1

disallow reference to static mut and adding static_mut_ref lint

don't ICE when noting GAT bounds in report_no_match_method_error

don't reexport atomic::ordering via rustc_data_structures, use std import

exclude well known names from showing a suggestion in check-cfg

exhaustiveness: abort on type error

exhaustiveness: track overlapping ranges precisely

exhaustiveness: use an Option instead of allocating fictitious patterns

fix ICE when suggesting dereferencing binop operands

fix all_trait* methods to return all traits available in StableMIR

fix allow_internal_unstable for (min_)specialization

fix is_global special address handling

fix unused_parens issue when cast is followed LT

fix an ICE that occurs after an error has already been reported

new flag to emit all the delayed bugs as errors (add -Zeagerly-emit-delayed-bugs)

making User<T> and User<[T]> Send

merge dead bb pruning and unreachable bb deduplication

never patterns: Check bindings wrt never patterns

pass LLVM error message back to pass wrapper

remove -Zdont-buffer-diagnostics

stop mentioning internal lang items in no_std binary errors

store the segment name when resolution fails

suggest upgrading compiler for gated features

suggest quoting unquoted idents in attrs

support async recursive calls (as long as they have indirection)

taint _ placeholder types in trait impl method signatures

unify query canonicalization mode

remove a large amount of leb128-coded integers

varargs support for system ABI

stabilize mutex_unpoison feature

A more efficient slice comparison implementation for T: !BytewiseEq

tune the inlinability of unwrap

cargo metadata: Stabilize id format as PackageIDSpec

cargo resolver: do not panic when sorting empty summaries

cargo: add guidance on setting homepage in manifest

cargo: add unstable --output-format option to cargo rustdoc

cargo: crates-io: set Content-Type: application/json only for requests with a body payload

cargo: add rustc style errors for manifest parsing

cargo: only inherit workspace package table if the new package is a member

cargo: implementation of shallow libgit2 fetches behind an unstable flag

cargo: introduce -Zprecise-pre-release unstable flag

cargo: strip debuginfo when debuginfo is not requested

rustdoc-search: reuse individual types in function signatures

clippy: from_over_into: suggest a correct conversion to ()

clippy: useless_asref: check that the clone receiver is the parameter

clippy: correctly suggest std or core path depending if this is a no_std crate

clippy: extend useless_asref lint on map(clone)

clippy: fix false positive in PartialEq check in unconditional_recursion lint

clippy: fix suggestion for map_clone lint on types implementing Copy

clippy: make HirEqInterExpr::eq_block take comments into account while checking if two blocks are equal

rust-analyzer: add notable_trait predicate to CompletionRelevance

rust-analyzer: assist to merge nested if

rust-analyzer: acknowledge pub(crate) imports in import suggestions

rust-analyzer: differentiate between vfs config load and file changed events

rust-analyzer: fix ast::Path::segments implementation

rust-analyzer: fix incorrect parsing error on method call on range

rust-analyzer: fix nested includes resolving from the wrong base file

rust-analyzer: fix rust-analyzer-proc-macro-srv failing to spawn on windows

rust-analyzer: preserve comments for extracted block expression in 'extract_function'

rust-analyzer: remove sysroot-abi feature flag from proc-macro-test

rust-analyzer: replace SourceRootCrates hashset output with slice for deterministic order

rust-analyzer: resolve panic in generate_delegate_methods

Rust Compiler Performance Triage

This week had some small regressions that did not warrant further investigation, several of which were dismissed as being noise/blips in the data. There were also a number of gains. (Don't get exicited about that 20.6% improvement, its an measurement artifact from a temporary blip in the PR that immediately preceded this week's triage.)

Triage done by @pnkfelix. Revision range: 76101eec..f9c2421a

3 Regressions, 5 Improvements, 5 Mixed; 3 of them in rollups 55 artifact comparisons made in total

Full report here

Approved RFCs

Changes to Rust follow the Rust RFC (request for comments) process. These are the RFCs that were approved for implementation this week:

RFC: Precise Pre-release cargo update

Add RFC combining Infra and Release teams

Final Comment Period

Every week, the team announces the 'final comment period' for RFCs and key PRs which are reaching a decision. Express your opinions now.

RFCs

[disposition: merge] Avoid non-local definitions in functions

Tracking Issues & PRs

[disposition: merge] Stabilize single-field offset_of

[disposition: merge] Undeprecate lint unstable_features and make use of it in the compiler

[disposition: close] Fix non_camel_case_types for screaming single-words

Language Reference

No Language Reference RFCs entered Final Comment Period this week.

Unsafe Code Guidelines

No Unsafe Code Guideline RFCs entered Final Comment Period this week.

New and Updated RFCs

RFC: Out-of-tree test suite

Call for Testing

An important step for RFC implementation is for people to experiment with the implementation and give feedback, especially before stabilization. The following RFCs would benefit from user testing before moving forward:

No RFCs issued a call for testing this week.

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear on the above list, add the new call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

Upcoming Events

Rusty Events between 2024-01-17 - 2024-02-14 🦀

Virtual

2024-01-17 | Virtual (Vancouver, BC, CA) | Vancouver Rust

Rust Study/Hack/Hang-out

2024-01-23 | Virtual (Halifax, NS, CA) | Rust Halifax

Rust&Tell - Halifax

2024-01-24 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | WeAreDevelopers Community

WeAreDevelopers LIVE - Rust Day

2024-01-25 | Virtual (Charlottesville, NC, US) | Charlottesville Rust Meetup

Crafting Interpreters in Rust Collaboratively

2024-01-25 | Virtual (Mexico City, DF, MX) | Rust MX

Iniciando 2024 con Rust

2024-01-28 | Virtual (Wrocław, PL) | Stacja IT Wrocław

Wprowadzenie do języka Rust

2024-01-30 | Virtual | Bevy Game Development

Bevy Meetup #1

2024-01-30 | Virtual (Buffalo, NY, US) | Buffalo Rust User Group

Buffalo Rust User Group

2024-01-30 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust

Last Tuesday

2024-01-31 | Virtual (Cardiff, UK) | Rust and C++ Cardiff

Rust for Rustaceans Book Club launch!

2024-02-01 | Virtual + In Person (Barcelona, ES) | BcnRust

12th BcnRust Meetup - Stream

2024-02-01 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | OpenTechSchool Berlin + Rust Berlin

Rust Hack n Learn | Mirror: Rust Hack n Learn

2024-02-03 | Virtual + In-person (Brussels, BE) | FOSDEM 2024

FOSDEM Conference: Rust devroom - talks

2024-02-03 | Virtual (Kampala, UG) | Rust Circle

Rust Circle Meetup

2024-02-04 | Virtual | Rust Maven

Web development with Rocket - In English

2024-02-07 | Virtual (Indianapolis, IN, US) | Indy Rust

Indy.rs - with Social Distancing

2024-02-08 | Virtual (Charlottesville, NC, US) | Charlottesville Rust Meetup

Crafting Interpreters in Rust Collaboratively

2024-02-08 | Virtual (Nürnberg, DE) | Rust Nüremberg

Rust Nürnberg online

2024-02-10 | Virtual (Wrocław, PL) | Stacja IT Wrocław

Rust – budowanie narzędzi działających w linii komend

2024-02-13 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust

Second Tuesday

Europe

2024-01-17 | Girona, ES | Rust Girona

Que és Rust i els seus beneficis / What's Rust and its advantages

2024-01-17 | Praha / Prague, CZ | Rust Prague

Rust Meetup Reloaded 2024

2024-01-17 | Zurich, CH | Rust Zurich

How to Community - January Meetup

2024-01-23 | Aarhus, DK | Rust Aarhus

Hack and Learn

2024-01-23 | Paris, FR | Rust Paris

Paris Rust Meetup #64

2024-01-24 | Zagreb, HR | impl Zagreb for Rust

Rust Meetup 2024/01: WebGPU intro using Rust

2024-01-25 | Augsburg, DE | Rust Meetup Augsburg

Augsburg Rust Meetup #5: Async Part2 and Async in action

2024-01-25 | Vienna, AT | Rust Vienna

Rust Vienna Meetup - January - Blockchains and Data Pipelines

2024-02-01 | Hybrid (Barcelona, ES) | BcnRust

12th BcnRust Meetup

2024-02-03 | Brussels, BE | FOSDEM '24

FOSDEM '24 Conference: Rust devroom - talks | Rust Aarhus FOSDEM Meetup

2024-02-06 | Bremen, DE | Rust Meetup Bremen

Rust Meetup Bremen [1]

2024-02-07 | London, UK | Rust London User Group

Rust for the Web — Mainmatter x Shuttle Takeover

2024-02-08 | Bern, CH | Rust Bern

Rust Bern Meetup #1 2024 🦀

North America

2024-01-17 | Chicago, IL, US | Deep Dish Rust

Rust Happy Hour

2024-01-18 | Seattle, WA, US | Seattle Rust User Group

Seattle Rust User Group Meetup

2024-01-22 | Boston, MA, US | Boston Rust Meetup

North End Rust Lunch

2024-01-24 | Austin, TX, US | Rust ATX

Rust Lunch - Fareground

2024-01-27-28 | Calgary, AB, CA | Rust Calgary

Harnessing Rust for Real-World Problems hackathon: Day 1

Harnessing Rust for Real-World Problems hackathon: Day 2

2024-01-30 | Cambridge, MA, US | Boston Rust Meetup

Harvard Square Rust Lunch

2024-02-07 | Brookline, MA, US | Boston Rust Meetup

Coolidge Corner Brookline Rust Lunch, Feb 7

2024-02-12 | Minneapolis, MN, US | Minneapolis Rust Meetup

Minneapolis Rust: Open Source Contrib Hackathon & Happy Hour

2024-02-13 | New York, NY, US | Rust NYC

Rust NYC Monthly Mixer

2024-02-13 | Seattle, WA, US | Cap Hill Rust Coding/Hacking/Learning

Rusty Coding/Hacking/Learning Night

Oceania

2024-02-06 | Perth, WA, AU | Perth Rust Meetup Group

Rust Feb 2024 Meetup

If you are running a Rust event please add it to the calendar to get it mentioned here. Please remember to add a link to the event too. Email the Rust Community Team for access.

Jobs

Please see the latest Who's Hiring thread on r/rust

Quote of the Week

Congrats to the #Rustlang and #Rust-for-#Linux community: the #LinuxKernel now contains the first useful thing built using Rust!

– Thorsten Leemhuis on FOSStodon

As with the crate of the week, this week saw a total lack of suggestions, so llogiq would like to offer you this piece of good news from the Linux side of things.

Please submit quotes and vote for next week!

This Week in Rust is edited by: nellshamrell, llogiq, cdmistman, ericseppanen, extrawurst, andrewpollack, U007D, kolharsam, joelmarcey, mariannegoldin, bennyvasquez.

Email list hosting is sponsored by The Rust Foundation

Discuss on r/rust

#rust-lang #rust #rustlang #twir #long post

1 note · View note

scintillatingfish · 2 years ago

Text

Concept: real life superhero costume.

This is just how I would do it if I actually had expendable income.

Anyway.

First point - superhero strength and speed.

I've seen many videos on YouTube etc about "kangaroo shoes" that act as springs providing both extra jump height and speed when running. However these are clunky so it would be ideal if these were retractable. In this sense you could run and walk normally but then activate the special shoes to run faster or jump higher. Alongside this you could use hydraulic presses or something similair to allow for massive explosive jumps. These would be attached to the legs.

Hydraulic presses could also be used on the arms for big punches. These things would be incredibly heavy so an exoskeleton suit would have to be used. Minimalistic bars of steel that create a frame around your body which help to take the weight off your fragile limbs.

Second point - Web slinging/miscellaneous projectiles

The exoskeleton steel frame thing would take the weight while swinging so by attaching to the frame and using a harness I think you could do it.

As for the "web", intertwined fishing line might do it if it was braided or something.

On each arm there could be projectile shooters that use pressurised gas canisters these could be pumped up by said hero before hand. These could be loaded with anything like crossbow bolts or flash band grenades or even microphones to eavesdrop on people from afar.

Third point - improved senses

Goggle could be used with a tiny projector. Using buttons on the side of the headset you could zoom in with a camera on top of your head which would then be relayed onto your goggle lenses. In addition you could have an AI software analyse everything you look at so you can recognise criminal faces or calculate the price of a car just by looking at it. This camera would have infrared night vision etc. It would also record your activities so later you can review them and pull a Tony stark by learning from your mistakes.

You could also have microphones that pick up really white things and play them to you louder.

Fourth point - gadgets plus wrist screen

Me personally I would have a foldable drone that could be controlled. On top of this I would have a swarm of tiny Drones which could fly through windows and hallways and swarm people. It would have a camera a microphone and darts that put people to sleep. Also I would have little microphones I could chuck out that eavesdrop on people. I would also have a backpack with food, Swiss army knife etc. This is a bit random but I would also have laser tripwires I could put down to know who was coming.

I would have a wrist screen to control the Drones. I could also use it to send texts etc

Fifth point - weapons

As for weapons I already have projectile shooters, Drones and powerful punches so I would probably use a big club as my exoskeleton allows me to use heavier than usual weapons. This means it also wouldn't be instantly lethal if fighting criminals

Sixth point - suit itself

Colour scheme of the suit would be dark colours to blend in with shadows.

It would have spikes on shins and forearms to allow me to climb up surfaces. Appendages on back of ankles to allow for speedy swimming

Seventh point - name

I dunno

#ideas #marvel #supernatural #superhero #inventions #dc comics #marvel mcu #dc universe #the avengers #spiderman #across the spiderverse #batman

0 notes

stellar-eyed · 2 years ago

Text

Gorou wasn't about to correct his oshi on his name. Still, there was a hint of confusion in his eyes, with them darting off and remaking eye contact with here in a split-second motion. She did just say his name correctly, didn't she?

But would he even consider that Ai might be messing with him? Nah.

"Well..."

Gorou pushes up his glasses with an index finger, giving a smug and slightly proud smile to himself. Ai being interested in what he actually does for a living? Why that's a pleasant surprise!

"I'm flattered you want to know more about being a doctor but, Ai, I'm just afraid there's not much you can do. Its just going to be sitting my office while I review charts. I can't even talk about what I'm doing because of confidentiality, after all."

Gorou ended his words with a sigh, his shoulders slumping at the disappointment of his own rationality. The truth was, no matter how much he put Ai on a pedestal, he wasn't going to risk breaching the trust of dozens of people to sate her curiosity.

"Awh, you didn't miss my cute face, Gorou?"

Ai beams, as her eyes glint deviously. Ai, c'mon, focus..

That being said, she moves to grin, as her hands move behind her back, she tapping her foot a bit as she muses.

"Yeah- Ichigo was a bit busy with a few others in my usual group, so.. I sorta was dropped off here a bit earlier then expected. But hey! At the least I can see you do your usual job for a while now.."

...Thing is, Ai was also.. a bit horrible with directions.

"So, Goromi- can I do that? Or should I be sitting my cute butt in a waiting room~?"

#;;ic #;;gorou #;;thread

4 notes · View notes

strawberrysoup · 5 years ago

Text

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

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.”

#steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!tony stark #background starker #dark!mcu #let's review #let's review chapter 1

245 notes · View notes

stregacorvina · 5 years ago

Text

She-ra!! (part 1)

Good morning! As you may have noticed, I decided to add a new entry on my journal routine: every Tuesday I will show you a single set, not a collection.

And from the title, you can easily tell what is the topic of this new entry, She-ra! This weekend I bing watched the 5# season on Netflix and I was so ispired to do a Bjd version! I will miss this show soooo much now that is gone, I really want more episodes...

I have to say that it has been a very long time since I fell so in love with a tv show, even if I wasn’t a big fan of the 80s version (I have seen it when I was a child but I don’t remember much) I think it is so full of positive messages and representation, we needed a show like this from a long time, especially if we consider it is a show for young people.

I will not write a full review here as there is plenty around the web, but I really suggest you to check out the show!

The animation is just average-good, modern anime get us used to excellent quality levels, but every character is so well characterized (well, the main ones, the background cast are just...background unfortunately) and as I said it is full of positive messages and LGBT representations that are still lacking in most tv shows, most of all the ones for young peoples... in conclusion, it is not the BEST show ever but a very interesting example in the wide world of the tv shows! How I wish a show like this when I was a teenager!

Going back to the costume, I will not spoiler you the new costume of this latest season (even if you probably have seen it in the Netflix thumbnail as I did) and also because I do not like it very much, I decided to make the first one, very different from the 80s one but very fitting for this new teen reboot!

I was already studing this costume when the first season aired because I was thinking of cosplaying She-ra in some conventions (as right now I have almost the same bodytype), I am still thinking about it... never say never...

Let’s start talking about the...

- Materials

I chosed white spandex for the main part of the costume: the top and the shorts, golden spandex for the details (with some foam structure inside to keep the shape) and red cady fabric for the cape - I have already used this fabric for a Thor cape some times ago and even if it is a bit pricey compared to my usual materials but it is really worth the price! It has the perfect flow and the look...speaks for itself! -

For the chest and the tiara’s gems I will use some glass gems I bought from Aliexpress some time ago, painted with different nailpolish; for the shoes, the armbands and the tiara I will use foam and fabrics...I am still thinking about making the sword or not...we’ll see....

- Step 1: patterns

I decided to use the patterns I did for the pajamas set with a few alterations.

For the top I used the t-shirt base without the sleeves (I am still thinking about making a binder - a sport bra to compress the chest, often used for female cosplayers to do male characters - because these dolls have sooo much breast compared to the original character...)

For the shorts I used the pattern for the pajama pants, already altered to make some leggins a while ago (I will show you their set in a few weeks)

When the She-ra set will be done you will find the PDF pattern pieces, including accessories, in my Etsy shop. Done with the bases, last’s start with the...

- Step 2: shorts

I decided to start from the shorts because I tought they will be the quickest piece, so after cutting the white spandex base I started to handmade sew the golden stripes on the sides...you will see A LOT of handsewing in this project!

Before joining the two parts I decided to give the stripes a good press and I fitted them on my model doll to check the lenghts.

After I decided the hem lenghts I sewn waist and legs with a very tiny zig zag stitch on my machine and i noticed that the spandex elasticity was enough to not use an elastic band on the waist.

(After seeing them with the top on I then decided to shorten them for the second time because I didn’t like the final lenght) With the shorts done, it was time for the...

- Step 3: top

I made the base in white spandex but before joining the pieces I decided to do the crest on the front.

As you can see in the pictures, at the beginning I was going for a single piece, a top with a flared bottom, but in the end I decided to redo this part because I didn’t like the “skirt”.

I decided also to add two little darts on the bust because these dolls have really too much breast! As everythig is soo small in this project it was almost all handsewn, so I decided to discard my initial idea to make the crest with foam covered in golden spandex and I went for a golden spandex cut-out, handsewn obviously.

After finishing the crest I decided to wait until the end of the top to add the glass bead because I will probably work with this piece a lot! So i decided to go on with the flared part and to do the final version of it. Firsty of all I cut away the wrong part,

then I redraw it as a half circle “skirt” in three parts, one for the back and two for the front, with the center front slightly shorter than the back. I was thinking about leaving the raw edge but in the end I made a little zig zag stitch just like the shorts.

And then, for ending with the white spandex, I made a tiny hight neck collar, mostly handmade as well. I was thinking about the usual stripe of velchro fastener in the back but I noticed that a small slit on the back was enough to fit the doll’s head, so I didn’t add it but only a small snap button on the neck (most of the back will be hidden with the cape anyway...)

To finish the top I started to make the epaulettes, with 2 mm foam as a base. I drafted the basic shape in paper pattern, then I made it two times in foam and then on a double layer of golden spandex.

I sewn the little gap with tiny handmade stiches and the I attached them on the sleeve cap with some others handsewn stitches.

This is the (almost) finished top! Isn’t it lovely? My fangirl soul is so eager to finish this costume!

This is a little preview with the flared part attached...I’m alredy in love!!

- Step 4: cape and belt

Before starting with the accessories, that I will probabily show you in Part 2, I made the cape and the belt to finish the base of the costume.

For the cape I made an half-circle to add more volume at the hem and I also made the top wider than the shoulders so I can gather it a bit more.

(BONUS PIC - Salem wants to try the cape on)

I really love the look of it! I put the cape aside for now because I still need white thread on my machine so I will hem it later on...

For the belt I decided to sewn it onto the top instead of doing another single piece (also to hid the waist seam because I didn’t like that much)

I made a mock up with white spandex to check the lenght and the V depth, then I use this mock up as the pattern for the final one on golden spandex.

And this is the finishe top! I really like it and I cant’ wait to finish this project! As finishing touches I still need to add the glass bead on the crest and the snap button on the neck.

See you on Thursday as usual for the second part of this loooong entry where I will show you the accessories and the final look.

See ya!

Chiara (StregaCorvina)

Bentornati! Ho deciso di inserire una piccola “deviazione” alla pubblicazione del giovedi: il martedi sarà dedicato ad un set singolo, non una collezione!

E come potete immaginare dal titolo, questo primo martedi è dedicato a She-ra! Quest weekend ho divorato la 5° Stagione appena uscita su Netflix e mi sento decisamente orfana percio ho deciso di realizzare anche la sua versione BJD.

Devo dire che il reboot Netflix di She-ra è una delle serie che mi ha “preso” di più negli ultimi anni, era da tanto che non mi appassionavo così tanto ad una serie, sebbene non fossi una grande fan dell’opera originale (che ho visto da piccola e non mi ricordo quasi per niente...) Secondo me è una serie piena di messaggi e rappresentazioni positive, c’era davvero bisogno di un cartone simile, soprattutto se consideriamo che si tratta di un prodotto indirizzato ad un pubblico giovane.

Non starò qui a fare la recensione dello show visto che in giro se ne trovano tantissime, ma vi invito caldamente a guardarla se non lo avete ancora fatto! Le animazioni non sono eccelse ma sono belle, gli anime più moderni ci hanno ormai abituato ad un livello qualitativo davvero alto, ma i personaggi sono caratterizzati benissimo (per lo meno i principali, diciamo che i secondari sono davvero...sullo sfondo e basta) e come dicevo la serie è piena di messaggi positivi e rappresentazioni LGBT che sono ancora un po troppo trascurate dagli show per ragazzi...insomma, non sarà il capolavoro del secolo ma una piacevole novità nel panorama cosi vasto delle serie televisive! Avrei tanto voluto crescere con una serie cosi vent’anni fa...ma mi rendo conto che ai tempi una serie così per ragazzi era impensabile!

Parlando di She-ra, per non spoilerare troppo il nuovo costume che indossa nel corso di questa serie e che non mi piace particolarmente, (ma se avete visto la copertina su Netflix ve lo sarete spoilerato comunque come è successo a me) ho deciso di riprodurre quello della prima trasformazione, che si discosta parecchio da quello originale degli anni 80 ma che calza a pennello per il mood più teen di questo reboot!

Avevo già puntato questo costume quando uscì per la prima volta su Netflix perche avendo un fisico abbastanza simile ad Adora, avevo in mente di farne il cosplay in qualche prossima fiera....progetto che non ho ancora abbandonato del tutto chissà... perciò partiamo con la scelta dei materiali.

- Materiali

Ho deciso di utilizzare lycra bianca per le parti principali del completo, la casacca e i pantaloncini, lycra oro per tutti i dettagli (irrigidita da una base di foam qua e la in base alla funzione) e cady rosso per il mantello - avevo già usato questo cady di medio peso per il mantello di Thor in un precedente cosplay e anche se è leggermente più caro del tipo di materiale che sono abituata ad utilizzare ne vale decisamente la pena! Cade benissimo e l’aspetto...si commenta da solo -

Per il petto e il diadema userò degli ovali di vetro colorati con smalto per unghie per lasciare intatta la trasparenza, mentre scarpe, bracciali e diadema avranno un’anima in foam e il resto in tessuto... sono ancora in dubbio se fare la spada o meno, vedremo un pò in futuro...

- Step 1: patterns

Avevo in gran parte le basi gia pronte da quando ho fatto i pigiamini, perciò per la casacca sono andata abbastanza tranquilla con la base della tshirt (sto ancora valutando se fare una sorta di binder - per chi non lo sapesse è una sorta di reggiseno sportivo che comprime abbastanza il seno, usato parecchio dalle cosplayer per avere un aspetto più “maschile” - per nascondere un pò il seno delle bambole e restare più in linea con la fisionomia del personaggio)

Per gli shorts invece ho utilizzato il cartamodello dei pantaloni del pigiama che avevo precedentemente modificato per fare un paio di leggins super aderenti (che vi farò vedere prima o poi)

Quando il set sarà finito troverete il cartamodello in PDF nel mio shop su Etsy completo di accessori. Le basi ci sono, perciò iniziamo subito con...

- Step 2: shorts

Ho deciso di iniziare dai pantaloncini perchè mi sembravano la parte più rapida del costume, perciò dopo aver tagliato la base in lycra bianca ho iniziato ad applicare - rigorosamente a mano per mantenere l’elasticità - la striscia dorata sui lati.

Prima di unire le due parti ho dato una bella stirata alle strisce e ho fatto una prova sulla bambola che stavo usando come modella per vedere la giusta lunghezza.

Soddifatta degli orli ho cucito gambe e vita con uno zig zag stretto e alla fine ho deciso che l’elasticità della lycra era sufficente perciò non ho inserito nessun elastico in più.

(Una volta finita anche la casacca ho deciso di accorciare ancora un po i pantaloni perchè mi sembravano troppo lunghi). E con i pantaloni finiti era il momento di passare alla...

- Step 3: casacca

Ho realizzato la base in lycra bianca e prima di unirlo al dietro ho iniziato subito sul davanti la decorazione in lycra oro.

Come potete vedere nelle immagini, inizialmente avevo pensato di fare una casacca svasata sotto, in un pezzo unico, invece poi sono tornata su questa decisione perchè non mi piaceva la parte della “gonna”.

Ho anche aggiunto delle piccolissime pences nel giromanica perchè queste bambole sono troppo prosperose per non averle! Viste le dimensioni ridotte dello stemma sul petto alla fine ho deciso di scartare la mia idea iniziale di farlo in foam e ho semplicemente fatto un’applicazione di lycra cucita poi a mano con micro punti nascosti.

Una volta cucito tutto il contorno dello stemma ho deciso di aspettare la fine della base per incollare la pietra al centro visto che avrei dovuto manipolarla ancora tanto, perciò sono passata oltre e come vi accennavo all’inizio, ho deciso di cambiare la parte bassa della casacca perchè non mi piaceva più e l’ho tagliata via.

Per fare la parte svasata ho tagliato una “gonna” a mezza ruota divisa in tre parti con cuciture sui fianchi, leggermente più corta sul centro davanti. Avevo pensato di lasciare l’orlo a taglio vivo ma poi ho deciso di fare un piccolo orlino a zig zag come per l’orlo dei pantaloni.

Infine per terminare le parti in lycra bianca ho fatto un mini collo alto, anche questo cucito prevalentemente a mano visto le dimensioni ridotte.

Avevo deciso di chiudere il retro con una striscia di velcro ma considerando la presenza del mantello ho deciso di fare solo un’apertura fino alle scapole e chiudere poi il collo con un automatico.

Per concludere la base del costume ho iniziato le spalline, dopo aver fatto una prova con un pezzo di carta per decidere la grandezza definitiva ho realizzato una mezzaluna in foam (bhe, due) e l’ho riportata su un doppio strato di lycra oro.

Ho chiuso poi la parte lasciata aperta con dei piccolissimi punti a mano e le ho attaccate al giromanica, sempre a mano, con dei punti nascosti.

Ed ecco la casacca quasi pronta pronta! Non è un amore? Il mio animo da fangirl è super entusiasta di fare questo costume!

Per concludere la casacca ho attaccato la parte della “gonna” ed ecco una preview...gia la adoro!!

- Step 4: mantello e cintura

Prima di passare agli accessori, che visto la lunghezza di questo post verranno presentati in una Parte 2, mi sono occupata della cintura e del mantello, per concludere la base del costume.

Per il mantello ho deciso di realizzare una mezzaruota per averlo bello ampio e fluente, leggermente più ampio della larghezza spalle in modo da drappeggiare un pò la parte alta.

(BONUS PIC - Salem che decide che vuole provare il mantello)

Direi che come ampiezza ci siamo! Per il momento visto che mi serve ancora il filo bianco sulla macchina da cucire mettiamolo da parte, lo finirò più tardi.

Per la cintura invece ho scartato l’idea di fare un pezzo separato visto che il costume aveva già tanti pezzi e ho deciso di cucirla sulla casacca per nascondere la cucitura sotto la vita.

Ho fatto prima una prova con un pezzo di lycra bianca per decidere l’altezza e la profondità della V, poi l’ho usata come base per quella vera e propria realizzata con due strati di lycra oro.

Ed ecco la casacca finita! Mi piace sempre di più e non vedo l’ora di finirla!! Come ultimo tocco devo aggiungere solo la gemma al centro dello stemma e l’automatico dietro per chiudere il collo.

Visto che questo post sta diventando lunghissimo vi farò vedere gli accessori e il final look nel prossimo post, che verrà pubblicato normalmente di giovedi.

A presto!

Chiara (StregaCorvina)

#bjd #bjddoll #bjdcosplay #cosplay #sheracosplay #bjdshera #custombjd #handmade #handmadecosplay #bjdclothes #handmadebjdclothes #bjdset #she ra reboot #she ra netflix #sewing #seamstress #handmadesewing #cosmaker #stregacorvina

37 notes · View notes

wickednerdery · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: Out of Time: Time Out Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Loki x Stark!OC, Steve Rogers Rating: FRT Summary: “I am Loki, of Asgard.” Notes: Continuing my strange little foray into cyberpunk with Loki on a futuristic Earth (after his escapes with the Tesseract in Endgame?). This one has a bit more cursing, drinking, and original characters...and a cameo by one Captain America!

Chapter 1

Loki stays with her right up until there are boots pounding their way to the exhibit, then vanishes from human sight. He watches security rush in and spread out to secure the room, including some breaking off to investigate the hole made by the shooter’s body. He takes note of the one who takes his place at Ms Stark’s side.

“Ana?” The gentleman is older, most certainly the one in charge, as he crouches and tears the dress at the wound. “Get the fucking medics in here now!” He pulls a pen from his inner pocket and slips one end into her wound. She whimpers, then gasps. “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Orson. Just checking for toxins.”

“F-Fuuuck…” Her teeth grit hard, her breath a hiss as he pulls bloodied pen back out to read. She pants, her eyes darting for the mystery man in black. “Wh-where i-is…” Her head of security again encourages her to stay calm. “…The man…Where?”

Orson sighs in relief, no toxins detected. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him. Medi-!” He’s cut off as they arrive, switches to answering questions and reminding them exactly how important she is.

A medic stretches pale flesh-colored tape across her wound as another unfolds a sheet that hardens into a flat stretcher. Loki watches with interest as it hovers after she’s placed on it. It floats out, leaving the medics free to attend to Ana as security escorts them towards an emergency back exit window. He hears the helicopter, but doesn’t bother to go watch her loaded into it. Instead he teleports himself into the crowd now being forced to exit, remaining unseeable to take in the scene unbothered.

Ana’s eyes open to a white ceiling dotted with black, red, and gold. Her ceiling. “Status report?”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” says Tony in his usual laissez faire. “The bullet went through and through without caustic or explosive damage. Stem cell injection patched up the insides, skin patch worked for the aesthetics.”

“How long was I out?”

“Two days out at the hospitals, three days in and out at home.”

“Is the data from that night filed?”

“Filed, examined, and filed again.”

“Examined by who?”

“I’ll give you one guess - wait, it’s not me - now I’ll give you one guess.”

She knows. “Is he here?”

“Not at the moment. Want me to ring him up?”

“Fuck, no. Am I mobile?”

“Vitals say yes, but I’d take it slow.”

For all intents and purposes, her head of security aside, Tony is all she has. Her parents died in the last outbreak, she’s no siblings. What little extended family left were too busy bickering over the Stark name and fortune to make nice. And the Avengers? They were little more than a fairy tale, a myth, now. It was just her and her innovations.

She lifts camisole to examine her midsection, pulls off the now clear patch to see underneath. The skin came in well, smooth, with perfect tone match. Deep breath in, then out, with minimal pain overall. She reaches for the med pack and tears off a square to pop in her mouth. The analgesic spreads warm across her body as it dissolves. She smiles, gets up slow and ensures she’s stable, then prepares for the day.

Up on the rigging his eyes stay on the man below. So this is what passes for a knowledgeable man these days? Hardly impressive, even (or especially) with the women swarming him. Loki watches carefully as each in turn chat, some getting tabs or a tap of the wrist with his, while others leave with no contact only for the man to swipe and type a handheld glass panel after. A dealer of some sort. The god waits for him to be alone, then slips down into the bright, grubby, streets of this new Midgard. He’s surprised, impressed, when the other clocks him within four feet.

“No new clients, pal, sorry.” Cyno slips phone into backpack, then swings the mass over his shoulder.

Loki grins in confidence of his skills. “I urge you to reconsider.”

The man seems entranced before blinking the charm away. “Yeah, no. Nice try though. Haven’t had that chem mix in me before. Strong stuff, kudos to you and yours.”

The god is stunned, then enraged. “You will help me, mortal!”

Cyno gauges the other’s seriousness, then laughs. “Man desperate as you…I expect high and constant pay.”

“Then you shall have it.” Loki can’t be unreasonable, not right now.

“And what do you want?”

“I want information on Ms Ana Roget Stark.”

“Do I look like an IronMan to you? I know what everyone knows. Genius, zillionare, party girl, philanthropist.”

“Surely there must be more to her than that.” Nobody gains such a skilled assassin without cause.

“Like I said, I’m not an IronMan, I don’t know what happens behind the golden screen.” Cyno watches the other’s brows rise expectantly and sighs. “Stark International controls security for most of the world. Every aspect of surveillance, whether you see it or not, is theirs. These days Ana is the head of the family and the company, but that’s always being contested by an extended family member or business rival.”

“...Go on...”

“The rest is rumor. Secret labs making mutate super-soldiers, mutant-android experimentation camps, inter-universal trade. Hell, there’s even one of a first generation Captain America module she plays when lonely. Impossible to say what’s bullshit and what’s fact.”

The information was as intriguing as it was irritating. “Yes, well…surely you can find ways to dig through the gossip for the golden nugget.”

“What?” This guy spoke a different language to Cyno. “Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

“I am Loki, of Asgard.”

Cyno smirks, snorts. “An anarchist. Figures.” He sighs. “Well, look, Loki of Asgard, you got the credits I’ll get what I can as far as facts, but no promises. I’m no IronMan and I ain’t risking my life playing one so you can virus the Stark woman on the dark net or whatever the fuck you’re planning.”

Loki’s smile spreads slow and malicious. “Leave what’s done with the information to me, you just get it.”

“Fine, meet me at Kibishī Ākēdo Ten at 23:30 tonight. Go to the bar, order the house cider, and wait in the back. I’ll be there first.” He always is. “You pay me two-thousand and I give you a sample of information. If you like it, we can set up...a subscription, if you will.”

“I require a guide for this world, can you procure one for me?” He will not make the same mistake as in New York. He will understand this new Midgard far better than the old one before making any moves.

“Male or female or....?”

“It hardly matters.”

“You wanna be able to play?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Fuck it, guy. You wanna be able to fuck it?”

“Did I ask for a whore?”

Cyno sighs. “I’ll get you an open one, help you set it up.”

“Now.”

“Yeah, now, com’on.” Cyno shifts bag fully onto his back and heads down the street, leaving Loki to follow.

“Display layout, with guests, at the opening of the museum gala. Pull up all bios available.” Ana heads towards her main room, throwing hair up into a bun. She’s showered, dressed, but still sore, too high for the lab. Today will be a regroup and review day - she’ll go through each guest until she finds the man in black. As the hologram of the charity event populates stats on all guests she heads towards the bar of the open kitchen.

“Don’t you think you should slow down on that?” His voice is gruffly calm. “At least while still doped.”

She turns to see her head of security, in the flesh. “Tony said you weren’t here.”

“I lied,” her AI confesses without guilt.

“I made you too smart.” Ana sighs, carrying on with her plans. “And I can drink whenever I damn well please, Orson, so just move on.”

He remembers Tony like this too - stubborn, defeated, ready to slip back into the bottle - but pushes on. Now was not the time for a lecture. “We found the shooter. Dead. Blasted through the wall.”

“Who was he? Was he part of a group or lone nut?”

“Mac Headstrom, part of the Altered Brotherhood.”

“Which ones are they?” There are too many to even bother to keep track of.

“The same ones that blew our labs in Costa Rica, think we’re making an army of mutants out of the homeless.”

“Ah.”

“You didn’t tell me you rigged a charge to your ring, Ana.”

“I didn’t, I only had the taser.” She pours out liquor, ignores Orson’s sigh as she drops another analgesic strip into it for good measure. “It was the man in black. The guest.”

“The guest in black?”

The sweet rush of numbness almost causes her to moan. “Yeah. Got in via one of the golden ticket invites, but didn’t seem to understand that himself. Didn’t seem to understand much, actually. Weird thing was…” She grabs a slice of cold pizza. “I thought he used a hologram to contact me the second time, but he…he caught me.”

“Caught you?”

“After I was shot. I was going down and he was able to catch me.”

“So he actually teleported?”

“Apparently.” She stays standing at the counter, unwilling to walk away from the bottle or take it with her into the living room. “But his tech knowledge seemed nonexistent. How does a guy not even know he’s got a codes tab, but then be able to navigate teleportation?”

Orson hesitates, then proceeds. “Maybe he’s a mutant?”

“I thought most of your kind died out with the Legacy Virus.” Not the same as the one that took her parents, but just as devastating.

“Most did. But not all.”

“If I might cut in,” says Tony. He reddens one of the people in the hologram of the party, pulls aside an enlarged image of the man. “But if this is him, he’s not a mutant.”

“That’s him, yeah.” Ana pours another drink, finally coming around the counter to sit. As she does, her chair adjusts for her comfort. “You already ran checks on him?”

“He’s a core file in my coding from the original Tony.”

“Loki.” Orson sighs, jaw clenching with a tension that Ana rarely sees from him. “Adopted brother of Thor Odinson, from Asgard. Basically a god. Iron Man fought him with the rest of the Avengers when he attacked New York City in early 2010s.”

“The Chitauri thing?”

“Yeah, the Chitauri thing.”

“So an intergalactic terrorist god…” She sips. “Came from the past.” Holds up a finger when Orson threatens to speaks. “To save the descendant of his enemy?” Her finger stays up until her drink is downed.

“Ana -”

“No, no. I’m sorry, I’m not nearly sober nor drunk enough to unpack all that just now.” She waves the hologram away and gets up. “And I’m not up for the ‘shit I did wrong’ security debriefing either.”

“Ana.” Orson pleads, for what he’s not sure.

“So, you don’t have to go home…” She heads back towards the bar. “But you do have to get the fuck out. Right now.”

The man’s eyes go to the ceiling, the cameras in the black dots. Nothing. Not a peep from Tony. “Fine, I’ll check in on you later.” He stands with a sigh. “But you better not be half-in-the-bag then.”

“Half in the bag?” She smirks, he uses such old-timey turns of phrases sometimes.

“I want you clean and sober before I return.”

“Can’t be that until you actually leave.” The liquor and pain meds cause her to happily slur her words. She follows him all the way to the elevator with goodbyes, watches until his car exits the property, then goes to pour another. “Tony?”

“Yep?”

“Activate Captain Comfort.” If a disembodied AI computer program could roll its eyes, Tony did. “Have him waiting.” Ana finishes her latest glass, sets it in the sink, and heads back to her room. She doesn’t want to think about the crazed assassin, the terrorist organization he was part of, the time-traveling god, the security upgrades Orson’s no doubt already planning, or anything else. She doesn’t want to think at all. “Captain?” She calls out, already letting her hair back down.

“Ma’am?” He steps out of the bathroom clean and clean-shaven. He’s tall, well-built, with broad shoulders and ramrod posture.

She smiles. “Call me Ana.”

The phrase triggers his softer expression, going from stern soldier to caring man. “Ana, are you all right?”

“Comfort me.” She relaxes into his arms easily, smiling at the warmth and sense of care he provides. “Kiss me.”

He does, passionately, and she returns it in kind.

Sorry, I couldn’t help but make the rumor about Ana having a Captain America pleasure-bot true, LMAO!! (I may write a separate, smut, piece of their full interaction, lol!) If you’re wondering why Loki’s mind control didn’t work on Cyno it’s because - using a magic-as-science type concept here - he’s got a way to clear out drugs/toxins/chemicals from his body (I confess, I’ve no specifics beyond that just yet, sorry, lol!) and that includes what Loki’s magical charms can do to one’s brain chemistry. ALSO...Orson (Ben Mendelsohn faceclaim) is an OC from another series (not on my masterlist yet oops). He’s a mutant with super-strength who’s impervious to damage, illness, and (for the most part) aging...he also lacks touch sensation for the most part. Ana’s faceclain is Evan Rachel Wood. Cyno’s faceclaim is Ryan Gosling and you’ll find out more about him as we go, lol! ;-)

Still/Always playing with this one, feel free to share ideas/thoughts/suggestions!! 😉

Tagging: @lady-crowned-with-stars, @beccaliciooouuusss, gravitational-anomaly, @fuckthatfeeling, @v-2bucky, @ultrarebelheart, @tarithenurse @latent-thoughts @chibiyanai @lukeevansandjdmobession @sweetfictionalworld @ladyfluff @theangelsfightwithdevils @holykryptonitekitten @kpopgirlbtssvt …And I legit don’t know who else to tag anymore lol

Gifs made off ones I found on Google, then combined myself.

#loki #tony stark #steve rogers #fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #Iron Man #captain america #OC: Orson #OC: Cyno #stark!oc #my writing #not my gif #kinda my gif #cyberpunk

44 notes · View notes